#saved her life so she thought she was lucky in that regard

[dahkis]

i wonder where asha is after sephiroth burned down...i doubt she's dead but i hope we get to see her in the grandis storyline

[comradecowplant]

damn, s i o u x e r z was one of my earliest tumblr follows-- she's a thin, conventionally attractive, white (or at least white passing) woman, which made her a big hit with the tumblr gays, & there was a period of time when her pics were everywhere, like the Alex Evens of tumblr lesbians-- so its a bummer to have to unfollow her after all this time, but since she's decided to become a cowardly piece of shit & throw her lot in with the r*dfems, she won't be missed.

so psa for any cryptkeepers like myself who followed her back then & haven't been paying attention to her since she came back.

[horangare]

lucky girl

pairing : model!jeonghan x fem!reader

content : smut (mdni), angst, fluff, fake dating, unrequited (but not rlly) love, friends to strangers to lovers

in which : jeonghan has no interest in a relationship, however it seems that everyone else is sticking their nose into his nonexistent love life. you’ve been in love with him for as long as you can remember, but that was ages ago. he shouldn’t remember someone like you, but he does. and he wants you to be his girlfriend (just for a little while though, right?)

warnings : public sex TWICE (this mf fucks u everywhere but a BED), couch sex (see what i mean???), oral (m & f receiving), unprotected sex (be safe i’m begging), idiots in love vibes like so strongly you two are dorks fr, dirty talk, y’all want each other so bad, praise, cockiness, like one innuendo, a bunch of other idols make features in this (twice, txt, le sserafim, and svt ofc), mentions of rehab, crying, “arguing”, jealousy, pining and yearning and things of that nature

wc : 14.9K words

note : this took me so much longer than i thought it would but it’s finally here 😭😭 written from this request

Junior year of highschool is when you first fell in love with Yoon Jeonghan.

You were the new girl. The transfer student. The awkward, hormonal, sixteen year old girl who felt oh so small in such a big school. The nobody.

Pretending like the lingering stares, the pointing, the whispering—all of it—was just a figment of your imagination was easy. You had been used to tuning things out. At acting like it didn’t phase you.

Private school was different than public school. Too different. The only reason you were in this place is because you were sent to live with your aunt because of the fact that your mother was in rehab and your dad wasn’t in the picture. Many of the public schools in the area weren’t the best, so she pulled some extra money from her savings to send you one of the nicer, private schools.

You were grateful, for her concern regarding where you went to school, but the huge contrast from transitioning to this new place was anything but easy. You may have looked just like everyone else, but you never felt like them. A bunch of self obsessed, privileged, stuck up rich kids. Yeah, you weren’t that. Not by a long shot. It’s like they could tell you didn’t belong here, but you already knew that.

All of them except for him.

Jeonghan had heard the mumbled talk of your arrival since he arrived on campus. He didn’t get what the big idea was. New kids came all the time, bought their way in with mommy and daddy’s help. Each and every other student here was one in the same. Predictable. Boring.

“Shit, look, there she is,” Joshua whispered amongst the small group of boys, his head jerking in your direction. The rest of them—Minghao, Mingyu, Soonyoung, and Jeonghan—all spared you a single glance or two.

Minghao chuckled dryly. “She’s gonna get eaten alive.”

"She's kinda hot though, don’t you think?" Soonyoung mumbled, trailing his eyes over your body. "That skirt is way too small for her."

“It’s like six in the morning. Can you not be horny right now?” Mingyu sighed, yet Soonyoung’s gaze remained on you until you disappeared from his line of sight. Jeonghan remained silent.

Joshua nudged his friend. “What? You have nothing to say?”

“What is there to say?” Jeonghan asked, swirling around his iced coffee that had been way too expensive to taste so cheap. “She’s a girl and she’s new.” Soonyoung booed him, loudly, attracting the attention of other passing students.

“You’re no fun.” He said and crossed his arms. Jeonghan gave him no response. “Whatever. How long do you think she’ll last?”

“I’ll give her until the end of the day,” Mingyu nodded. The others looked at him in disbelief, which made the boy roll his eyes. “What? I’m an optimist.”

Soonyoung hummed in thought, weighing his available options. “Four hours max.”

Minghao shook his head. “Two and a half.”

“I’m gonna say…One hour.” Joshua added. Then they all turned their heads to Jeonghan. He didn’t respond until the staring became unbearable.

“God, you’re all such pessimists, you know that?” He scoffed. “I’m not doing this with you today.”

“You have faith in her,” Minghao teased, poking the older boy in the side. “You’re so easy to read.”

“Cut that shit out.” Jeonghan hissed, pushing away Minghao’s hand. Minghao, Mingyu, and Joshua giggled. He was so easy to piss off.

“I’m gonna go talk to her,” Soonyoung cracked his knuckles with a confident—bordering on arrogant—smile.

“Seriously, don’t—” Minghao sighed, but the other boy was beyond reason. By the time he even said anything, Soonyoung was literally in your face.

The expression on your face was pensive, relaxed even. Until…

“Hey, new girl.”

You looked up, your eyes looking over him with disinterest. Soonyoung cleared his throat when you didn’t reply, running his hand through his hair in an attempt to relieve the awkward atmosphere.

“I’m Soonyoung, but you can call me Hoshi.”

“No.” You deadpanned.

His eyes widened. Were you serious? He could hear the others trying to keep in their laughter behind him.

“Is there something you need?” You asked, raising one of your eyebrows. Soonyoung stammered, only managing to speak the words “I…” or “what?” before he sighed and lowered his head.

“Hoshi, are you done making yourself look stupid yet?” Mingyu shouted, stopping between almost every word so he could laugh. By now, there was an even bigger scene being made by Mingyu’s additional comment, much to your embarrassment.

“Excuse me,” you mumbled to him as you scurried off to the bathroom, leaving not only Soonyoung shocked but also the little audience you had gathered shocked as well.

“Wow, what a smooth talker.” Joshua clapped, a wide grin on his face. “She was all over you.”

Minghao giggled. “I recorded the entire thing. Hey, who should I send this to first?”

“Oh fuck off,” Soonyoung hissed, his face flushed with embarrassment. “Nobody needs to see that shit.”

“Right, like half the school hasn’t already.” Jeonghan gestured to the multitude of people still lingering around in the hallways, huddled in groups whispering about the events that had just happened. Glancing at Joshua after you were gone, he smirked.

“So?” Joshua asked. “What’s your judgement?”

Jeonghan sipped the last of his drink, shaking it around and poking at the ice with his straw to see if there was any left. When he discovered none, he discarded the cup in the trash and crossed his arms over his chest. “I like her.”

You spent very little time in the bathroom, your visit only being to calm your nerves and steady your thoughts, but you didn’t expect to see the same boy and the rest of his friends huddled outside the bathroom waiting for you.

Wide-eyed, you stared between the five of them.“Um…hello?”

“Hi!” Mingyu smiled at you brightly, side eyeing Jeonghan when he nudged him aside. A quiet gasp slips past your lips; this boy was gorgeous.

“I assume you have a name? Or should we continue calling you new girl?”

“My name…?” You repeated, feeling your body growing warm at the proximity between the two of you. “Oh, my name. I’m [Y/n].” Jeonghan nodded, and then he smiled at you. You felt even hotter now. A little dumb, too, certain that you were embarrassing yourself.

“That’s cute,” he said, still smiling softly. Jeonghan threw one of his arms over your shoulder, keeping you close to him as he and the rest of his friends started to walk down the hallway. “So then, you’ll sit with us at lunch, right [Y/n]?” You stared at him, dumbfounded, unable to believe that he was actually being serious with you. Soonyoung, finding this funny, couldn’t help but laugh.

“Who’s stammering now?” He quipped, earning him a glare from Jeonghan. Soonyoung didn’t speak again.

“Sit with you?” You asked again, and Jeonghan nodded. “Are you sure?” Everyone’s eyes seemed to be on you as you were basically escorted down the hall with Jeonghan at your side, except this time it wasn’t your imagination. For some reason it felt like you were being stared at now more than ever.

“Of course we’re sure.” Joshua reassured you. When he looked close enough to fully take in the look on your face, he gave you a smile that was full of sympathy. “Ignore them. They’re all assholes. We’re the nice ones!”

Joshua was right, in a way. Jeonghan and his friends were the nicest group of assholes you’ve ever been associated with. It was one of those “mean to everyone except you” type of dynamics, especially with Jeonghan himself. You knew it wasn’t wise to, but you couldn’t help how your heart would beat faster whenever he was around since he only seemed to regard you as a close friend and nothing more.

You also couldn’t help but notice that he was as oblivious as he was cute. The others noticed, (Joshua was the first, obviously, then Minghao, then Mingyu, and then Soonyoung, who was heartbroken that you’d choose Jeonghan over him, and you didn’t know if he was joking or not) but he seemed like the only one who couldn’t get a hint. Even when you were being as direct and obvious as possible, Jeonghan still remained as unaffected by your affection as a white crayon did on white paper.

By senior year, you and Jeonghan started to grow apart. It was gradual, falling out of touch with one another as the last school year just passed you both by, until it seemed like Jeonghan was once again nothing but the cute boy you knew nothing about like he had been on your first day. The rest of the boys were devastated, Joshua most of all.

Aside from you, it seemed like he was the one who wanted Jeonghan to quit being dull and realize you liked him. Just tell him already, that’s what he’d always say. You always said you would, only to end up doing the opposite.

What if Jeonghan didn’t feel the same way? What if it destroyed your friendship? What if he never wanted anything to do with you after you told him? Each question seemed more unbearable than the last. It was easier to love him than to lose him.

The last time you saw him was at graduation. After the ceremony, roaming around the parking lot past all the smiling families taking pictures of their children with their brand new diplomas, looking for your aunt’s car—you ran into him.

“[Y/n]!” He called out to you, waving both of his arms in the air to draw your attention. He hugged you once you were close enough, squeezing you a little bit. “I’m sad now, we’re not going to see each other every day anymore,” he pouted, and you smiled, even though the thought of that saddened you just as much.

Having him act so naturally with you threw you for such a loop. Talking to him like this made it feel like your friendship hadn’t come to an end, like you two were old friends who had never been apart.

“Don’t be sad. I’m sure we’ll run into each other again.” You continued to smile, trying hard to make sure it didn’t look fake. You needed to believe what you were saying if you wanted him to do the same. Luckily for you it seemed effective, because Jeonghan’s face soon broke into a smile as well before he held his pinky up to you.

“Promise?”

Now you were smiling for real. Jeonghan, at the ripe age of eighteen, still believed deeply in pinky promises. They were sacred, never to be broken, those were his words. Others may have found him childish for this, you found it noble.

Nodding, you linked your pinky with his. “Promise.”

The promise you made with Jeonghan turned five today. Five years since senior year ended, five years since you made that promise with him, five years since you’ve seen Yoon Jeonghan’s face in person.

Now you saw him everywhere; on billboards, in ads, plastered on posters in the windows of just about every store—everywhere you went, Jeonghan’s face was sure to be there.

He was certainly doing better than you, no doubt. Odds are he wouldn’t even recognize you anymore. You worked at the local Ihop, drive your aunt’s old Toyota Camry, trying to save up enough money to move out of her house and into your own apartment.

You had wanted to attend college, even if only for a little, but your aunt only had enough money stashed away to send you to that ridiculously pricey private school, not to mention room she was already taking care of you for your mom while she was still…away, and you couldn’t afford to go into debt or pay anyone back.

So while Jeonghan walked runways in Milan and New York, you stayed in town and missed him every time his name was mentioned by one of your coworkers, forcing away the feelings you harbored for him.

Something like that was bound to happen to him, though. He was already so handsome, and his parents no doubt had the connections needed to allow something like that for their son. You were happy for him. Even after all this time, you continued to remain his biggest supporter. You’d buy every product he endorsed, watch any content he was featured in, and you’d stare at his pictures in awe, unable to believe that he just always seemed to get more and more good looking.

To Jeonghan, it was different. He enjoyed the attention. He liked being told by other people how handsome he was. He liked having people who adored him. But that was about it. Not once did he enjoy waking up early, rushing from shoot to shoot, sitting through meetings, none of it. He could live without the pressure to keep smiling, or the nagging from his parents, or—worst of all—the questions on his love life.

Jeonghan had never dated anyone since becoming a model, not even in private. There were zero scandals regarding a romantic relationship when it came to him, but the media was still unconvinced. He wondered how or why they always found the time to be so nosy. Why couldn’t they understand that’s just not what he was looking for right now?

“So Jeonghan, I think you all know the question on every one of our minds, right?” Jihyo asked with a smile, shifting around in her seat a little. Jeonghan responded with his convincing fake laughs—he had to have them mastered by now after all the invasive questions he’d constantly be asked by people like the paparazzi, or in this case, talk-show hosts. “Is there a special girl in your life that you’re hiding from us?”

The audience erupted into a fit of “ooo’s” and “aah’s” all while Jeonghan tried to hide his discomfort with the subject. “Honestly, Jihyo? There really is nobody right now. I’m just…not interested in dating.”

“Oh, come on! Are you sure you’re not seeing anyone in secret?” The sound of Jihyo’s laughter echoed through the studio as is blended with the reactions from the audience. Jeonghan laughed along with her, wondering how much longer he’d be here. He’d already had to have a long meeting with his parents and his agency this morning, then done a product endorsement for a cosmetics brand afterwards, and now he was here, entertaining Jihyo and her live studio audience. Today was relatively low maintenance for him, so after he left here there was only one thing he wanted to do before going home; eat.

Jeonghan shook his head, a small smile on his face. “If I were seeing someone, they wouldn’t be a secret.”

Jihyo’s face lit up in surprise, her mouth parting as she took in his response. “Wow! It seems like Jeonghan is that kind of boyfriend, huh?” Various reactions came from the crowd, most of them being screams of Jeonghan’s name praising him for his response. “All right, that’s all the time we have for today, but tune in tomorrow to hear Jo Yuri talk about her acting debut! That’s all for now!”

“Alright, that’s it people! Let’s wrap it up!”

Jeonghan exhaled with relief, saying a polite goodbye to Jihyo before he excused himself off the set and to his car. He cursed when he noticed how dark the sky was beginning to get. Most of the places he wanted to go would be closing by now. He thought hard to remember the places that stayed open late, then remembered that the local Ihop was always open. He wasn’t the biggest fan of the place, not by a long shot, but he’d just have to suck it up for the sake of his hunger.

Business at work had been slow today. It was only Monday, and you never got too much of a crowd during the start of the week, especially not when it was so early in the morning. Chaewon had suggested the two of you take a short break in the bathroom (though knowing her, she just wanted to gossip).

“No way, [Y/n]. You’re telling me you really knew Jeonghan in high school?” Chaewon asked you, leaning against the bathroom sink as she brushed some of her hair out of her face. “What was he like?”

You shrugged as you washed your hands. “He was nice. Well, he was nice to me.” This made Chaewon gasp and grab onto your shoulder, pressing her lips together to try and hide the smile creeping onto her face.

“Oh my gosh, he was totally into you!”

Yoon Jeonghan? Into you? You laughed dryly, really finding your friend’s enthusiasm cute, but at the same time you seriously doubted it. If what he said in those interviews were true, there was no chance. He wasn��t interested in dating; in relationships altogether.

You were just about to respond to her when the door to the bathroom flew open. Sakura, your manager, was standing in the doorway staring at the two of you like she’d caught you doing something you shouldn’t have.

“What are you two still doing in here?” She asked. “Someone is waiting to have their order taken.”

“Coming,” you sighed, patting your hands dry with three paper towels too many and rushing out behind Sakura. You approached one of the booths closer to the entrance, notepad in hand. “Welcome to Ihop, what can I—”

The person sitting in the booth lowers the menu, and time seems to stop. He looks up at you. You look down at him. It was like neither of you could believe you were seeing each other in this setting, of all places.

“Jeong…han?” You mumbled, blinking rapidly to see if he was really the person sitting there. He couldn’t really be here, could he? But then he smirked and you were convinced; he was real.

“It’s good to see you too, [Y/n].” He muses, flipping back and forth through the menu a few more times before setting in down on the table. He soaks in the dumbfounded look on your face with an overly smug smile. “Don’t just stand there, sit.”

“I’m the waitress, I can’t just—”

“Sit.”

You slid down into the seat across from him without missing a beat. A part of you felt embarrassed for giving into him so easily, the part of you with dignity.

“What are you doing here?” You asked, which got you an amused laugh from Jeonghan.

“I’m hungry, [Y/n]. Why else do people come to Ihop?”

Well, it was good to know he was still a smart ass after all this time. Even if you were attracted to him, then and now, you still couldn’t help but roll your eyes. “Okay, you know that’s not what I mean.”

Jeonghan tilted his head to one side. “I live here too, remember?” Then he sighed and laughed weakly. “Has it really been that long?”

A frown found its way onto your lips. Maybe it has been that long, it was like Jeonghan was suddenly a stranger to you even after the time you’d spent together in school. Thinking about that made something inside of you ache.

“I guess it has.” You mumbled. Your eyes remained locked on the table and not Jeonghan, not even when he started to give you his order. Sliding out of the seat, you gave him your usual service industry smile. “I’ll be right back with that.”

You scrambled to the kitchen, handing off the order to the cooks. “Hey, Chaewon, can you go bring the customer out there his drink?”

Slightly skeptical, Chaewon glanced down at the glass in your hand yet took it anyway. “Why can’t you go bring it to him? You already took his order.”

“Just help me out, okay? Just this once?” The girl sighed, mumbling under her breath as she exited the kitchen. You try to take this moment to finally catch your breath and calm your nerves, but it’s quickly ruined when you hear a shriek, followed by Chaewon running back to the kitchen, a starstruck look on her face.

“Yoon Jeonghan is in our restaurant,” she says, her hand clutching the front of her shirt. “And he’s asking for you, [Y/n].”

Of course he’s asking for you. There was no way you’d get out of this little reunion with him so easily. Jeonghan never let things be simple, you’d learned that quickly from your time being friends with him.

“Just bring the food once it’s ready, Chae,” you muttered, walking out of the kitchen and back to the booth Jeonghan was seated at. He looked up at you, pointing to the spot across from him, and you sat. “Is there something you want from me, Jeonghan?”

“Just some company,” He replied with a faux pout. He noticed that you were still looking at him like you could see through his lie, so he shrugged and smiled. “Okay, fine. I really did come here to eat, but I do need help with something else too.”

Raising your eyebrows, you urged him to continue. “I need you to be my girlfriend.” If you had opened your eyes any wider, they probably might have popped out of your head.

“W-What?” You shouted. Jeonghan put one of his fingers to his lips to shush you, which only helped to get you quiet and not to calm your racing heart. “But you’re always saying…”

“Listen,” He held one of your hand with both of his. “I know, I know. I’m always saying I’m not looking to date right now. But that’s exactly why I need you. I’m hoping to get everyone off my fucking back even if it’s just for a little while. Once the news of our relationship dies down, we can call it quits.”

You felt like this was a really vivid dream; like your subconscious was playing an elaborate trick on you and that none of this was actually real. Jeonghan squeezed your hand and looked at you expectantly. This must’ve been really important to him, and he was counting on you. Curse your simple heart, seven years had passed and you still felt like the love struck sixteen year old you were when you first met him.

This was a bad idea. No, this was a terrible idea. You should tell him that. There is no way you should say—

“Okay, fine. But only until the news dies down.”

Jeonghan grinned, visibly pleased with your response.

“I knew I could count on you.”

Thinking with your brain was always hard for you to do whenever you even thought about him, so having him make such a large request of you was basically keeping you from acting with any sort of rationality.

But Jeonghan didn’t need to know all that. You propped your elbow up on the cool surface of the table and leaned your head into the palm of your hand, swallowing down your apprehension. “What are friends for?”

When you woke up the next morning, the only thing on your mind was Jeonghan. Your interaction with him at your job hadn’t been a dream. He had asked you to be his (pretend) girlfriend, and you had agreed. You partly regretted the decision like you would a hangover, knowing that you still had feelings for him and telling him you’d go along with his plans could only end so many ways. You’d have to stop thinking with your heart so often.

In your moment of doubt, you received a text from Jeonghan. After he had finished his very late lunch yesterday, he tore off a piece of the receipt and scribbled down his phone number on it for you to keep, leaving you behind with a generous tip and a fuzzy feeling in your stomach. Fucking butterflies.

He’d also left you a very lovely, romantic text.

I’m picking you up at 7:45.

Ever the charmer. You checked the time; it was exactly 7. You groaned and hoped that this wouldn’t become an everyday thing, you didn’t even go into work this early.

Jeonghan ended up arriving outside your aunt’s house ten minutes later than he said he would, which only made you feel dumb for racing against the clock to make yourself look presentable.

He kept his eyes on you as you buckled up. “Good morning.” You side-eyed him, just barely making out the stupid lopsided grin on his lips.

“For you, maybe.”

“You’ll get used to it, I already have.”

So this would be an everyday thing. Great.

Accompanying Jeonghan around had given you a unique perspective on your own life. You had already thought there was a lot on your own plate, but Jeonghan, you weren’t sure how he handled it all. Sitting through meetings, fittings, hair and makeup, and photoshoot after photoshoot was tiring you out and you weren’t even the model.

You did like the rush of pride you got whenever Jeonghan introduced you as his girlfriend. Getting to see the shocked look on the faces of the people who worked beside him made you feel like you were important. If you didn’t have to get up so early all the time, maybe this was something you could get used to.

“It’s boring, right?” Jeonghan said, pulling you out of your thoughts.

“What do you mean?”

He sighed, waving away the man that was wiping off his makeup. “The sitting around, the waiting, all of it. You’re bored, aren’t you?”

You raised one of your eyebrows. “Why would you think I’m bored?” You asked. “Are you bored?”

“Obviously,” he scoffed in reply. “I would’ve rather done pretty much anything else. I mentioned being a model, like, one time and they just went with it. I didn’t wanna argue with my parents, though.” He shrugged, and that was it.

There was a sudden awkward tension in the air with Jeonghan’s overly honest confession. You glanced at the man who was in charge of removing his makeup, sharing a sheepish look with him before breaking eye contact. He was two for two on the eye opening revelations today, and you weren’t too sure you could handle a third.

Clearing your throat, you tried to think of a way to steer the conversation into a different direction. “So, uh, where to after this?”

“The gym. I would’ve gone tomorrow but Joshua said he’d meet me there.”

Finally, a break in this drag of a schedule of his. And you’d get to see Joshua. You could feel your boredom melting away like ice on a hot day as you got up and stretched.

“I’ll be in the car.”

So, about the visit to the gym…

It was fine at first. Normal. You greeted Joshua, hugged him, expressed how good it was to see him and how much you had missed him after all this time, and he smiled and done the same.

Speaking of Joshua, he had almost screamed when Jeonghan mentioned that you and him were seeing each other, and when he looked at you to confirm that he was telling the truth, he did scream, earning him confused and concerned stares from the people around you. Lying to him warded off the happy feeling you had built up on the way over here in a heartbeat, so you stayed silent for the duration of his workout with Jeonghan.

“Shit, dude, I gotta go. Something just came up,” Joshua apologized quickly and rushed out of the building, leaving just you, Jeonghan, and a small handful of other people rich or important enough to get into this private space.

You weren’t sure why, maybe it was the hot, sticky air of the gym. Maybe it was Jeonghan sitting there, all sweaty and panting and looking at you with that stupidly sexy smirk on his face. Maybe it was a bunch of other things you couldn’t bring your mind to conjure up the words for, but something was about to happen, you could feel it.

“I should shower.” Jeonghan suddenly said, parting his sweaty body from the machine he had been occupying. His eyes flashed with something you couldn’t quite place. “Wanna join?”

That’s the short version of how you ended up pressed up against the wall gym shower, your back to Jeonghan as he took you from behind. Your head spun with desire and a dash of shame. Even though it felt really good, you hadn’t even kissed Jeonghan once since declaring your status as (fake) girlfriend and boyfriend.

“Oh, baby. If I had known you felt this good I’d have done this ages ago,” Jeonghan moaned into your ear, and you could feel your knees buckle under you. That sweet-talking mouth of his would definitely be a problem for you, you were calling it now. Hearing such vulgar comments fall from his lips so naturally made you wonder why he was so good at this.

“F-Fuck, Jeonghan. Don’t stop…” The tiles of the small shower felt cold and wet against your skin, the feeling being the only thing keeping you somewhat grounded. Jeonghan’s hands held your hips tightly when you almost slipped as he mumbled something about being careful. If you weren’t in this position you’d have slapped him. “You’re not funny.”

Jeonghan isn’t bothered by your remark in the slightest. He snaps his hips forward, loving the way you gasp and push yourself back to meet his thrusts. He really thought you looked cute like this, so easily losing your composure because of him. He knew about the effect he could have on people, but none of them mattered now that he saw how you reacted to him. “Tell me how it feels baby.”

“So good, Jeonghan. F-Feels so fucking good.” You whined, your mine tuned in on the feeling of his wet skin against yours and the sounds of both of your moans.

“That’s right, feels so good. You’re so cute, you know that?”

Your muscles clenching around his cock when he said that was the one thing that seemed to have Jeonghan lose his cool. He nestled his face in the crook of your neck, kissing and sucking at the skin there while he rubbed your clit in fast circles, urging you closer and closer to the bliss of your release.

“Gonna…I’m g-gonna—” You try to say only to be cut off by your own hoarse wail of Jeonghan’s name as your orgasm hits you. Afraid that you might fall, Jeonghan holds onto you even tighter all while continuing to fuck you through your high. He glances down, biting his lip at the sight of the white ring forming at the base of his cock and the streaks of cum streaking down your inner thighs. Never did he think a visual so filthy would get him off, but he couldn’t help but bite your shoulder and curse quietly as he felt himself cum.

The water had gone cold by now, making the realization of just how long you’d been in here weigh heavy on your mind. Jeonghan squeezed one of your hips before he pulled out of you and stepped out to find some towels. You turned off the cool water, leaning back against the same wall you’d just been fucked against and sighed.

Now you really couldn’t go back.

Out of nowhere, a hauntingly embarrassing thought crawled its way into your mind. “Oh no,” you gasped. “Jeonghan, what if someone heard us?” He just laughed at your panicked words.

“Private gym, private showers.” He explained, smiling when you visibly relaxed. “You make some pretty funny faces, has anyone ever told you that?”

You rolled your eyes, but there was a smile on your face. “Yeah, you have, back in school.” There had been many instances in your teenage years where Jeonghan had often laughed harder to your reactions to certain events more than the event itself, and he’d always tell you how “fascinating” your range of facial expressions were. History does repeat itself after all. “Has it really been that long?” Hearing the words he’d said to you the other day elicited a soft chuckle from Jeonghan as he pulled your body closer to his, wrapping one of the warm towels around your shivering frame.

You didn’t like the way your heart was beating faster at an action as simple as that as if he hadn’t just had his way with you in that little cubicle this place dared to call a shower, but you just laughed with him and hoped that he wouldn’t notice.

“I guess it has.”

When you returned to work on Friday, you received a warm welcome from your favorite coworker and best friend.

Translation: Chaewon screaming at the top of her lungs and shaking you back and forth.

“You didn’t tell me you’re DATING YOON JEONGHAN!” Her grip was entering bruise territory. “I thought we were friends!”

“Chaewon, please,” Sakura sighed, prying you out of her arms. “You’re dating that boy that came in the other day? What’s the big deal?”

Chaewon had never looked so shocked. Well, that’s a lie, but right now that’s just how her face looked. “The big deal is him! He’s literally everywhere, Sakura. He’s YOON JEONGHAN!”

The customers could no doubt hear her frantic screaming from the kitchen despite your best efforts to make her quiet down. Unfortunately trying to get Chaewon to calm down was like trying to get a penguin to fly.

“How do you even know about that anyway?” You asked. Chaewon held up a finger, quickly pulling her phone out of her pocket and typing a few words into google and hitting search. She held it out to you and Sakura, and your jaw dropped.

Pictures of you and Jeonghan leaving the gym together, hand in hand, along with a plethora of articles inquiring about your identity as Jeonghan’s girlfriend. Your face wasn’t visible in any of them, but anyone who knew you could tell that you were the one beside him in those photos.

“Oh, wow. Yeah, that’s you alright.” Sakura hummed without even sparing you a glance. “That’s nice. He’s a handsome guy. Good for you, [Y/n].”

You smiled, feeling a little awkward with all the sudden attention. “Thanks, Kkura.” You couldn’t even prepare yourself to be grabbed by Chaewon a second time, so you just let it happen.

“Tell. Me. Everything.”

“Uh…”

“You can talk after work,” Sakura sighed, pulling you away from Chaewon once again. “[Y/n]’s boyfriend will still be with her after her shift is over.”

You really hoped so.

For almost the entirety of your shift, you were somewhat unfocused on your actual job and more on the leaked pictures of you and Jeonghan. Never had you been used to having so much attention on you, especially over a guy. Of course, Jeonghan wasn’t just any guy, but still. All of the hype had to be because of what he’d always preached about not being interested in dating, no doubt, but other than that your sentiment was similar to that of your manager’s: what’s the big deal?

Chaewon also seemed off, though it was mostly only because she couldn’t wait to pick your brain about your relationship with the model. She kept looking at you and smiling for the entirety of your shift, and you’d just try and pretend you didn’t see her. It was working fine until you know who came back to pay you another unexpected visit.

“Hey, your boyfriend is here!” She whispered to you when you returned from a quick trip to the bathroom. You felt confused and surprised at the same time, he was supposed to be…anywhere but here right now. The stupid organ in your chest jumped when you considered the possibility that he was actually here for you.

Making your way to the front of the restaurant, Jeonghan stood there, hands in his pockets, looking pleased to see you.

“Jeonghan, what are you doing here?” He pouted at you.

“Is that the only question you know how to ask me?” You crossed your arms, not in the mood for his little games right now. “Sorry, fine. I wanted to see you. Make sure you’re handling the news well.”

“News…? Oh, that.” You weren’t too thrilled to talk about your sudden rise to fame even though it had been the only thing on your mind ever since finding out from Chaewon today. Kind of ironic. “It’s whatever, I guess. I mean, I couldn’t believe it when Chaewon showed me the pictures, but that was pretty much it.” You shrugged.

“Wow,” Jeonghan hummed. “Have you always been this blunt? Where’s the girl with the bob? I like her energy better.” He started to laugh, the sound only getting louder when you hit him on the chest. You knew didn’t hurt him, not even in the slightest, and his cute giggling only made you madder. Damn him and his smart mouth. “Just kidding, baby.”

And there he goes with the nicknames again. Seriously, damn him and his smart talking, filthy, mouth and all the words he’d speak with it to get you all flustered.

“You never answered me. Don’t you have a photo shoot or a fitting, or, I don’t know, somewhere else to be instead of Ihop on a Friday?”

Jeonghan just smiled at you. “Forgive me for wanting to just stop by and say hello to my girlfriend.”

“Jeonghan.”

Your eyes watched him as he tried to bite back the smile on his lips to no avail. He nodded slowly, seemingly getting the hint that you could always manage to see right through him. He didn’t know if it was a good or bad thing.

“Alright, alright. You remember that show I was on not too long ago? The one with Jiyho?” Of course you remembered. Chaewon had sent the link to the video once it was uploaded to youtube (like she did with everything involving Jeonghan) along with a bunch of incorrectly spelled words in all caps expressing her excitement and disbelief. He continued speaking once you nodded. “Yeah, so, she pretty much wants me back on the show…with you.” He puts his hands on your shoulders, waiting for you to object to the whole thing.

But you don’t object. You glance to the side once, then back at him, and shrug like you had done moments earlier. “Okay. I’m off on Wednesdays and Thursdays.” The man in front of you sighed and shook his head.

“She wants us there tomorrow. Can’t you get someone else to come in for you, or something?”

You exhaled a heavy, dramatic sigh. “Fine. But you owe me, okay? This is coming out of my paycheck.” The look of utter happiness on Jeonghan’s face whenever you give into him is something you think you’ll never get tired of seeing, like he really thought it’d take more convincing to get you to say yes. You��ve literally been wrapped around his finger since you were sixteen, it was honestly surprising that he had the nerve to explain himself to you sometimes when you damn near lacked the ability to say no to him.

“You’re the best,” he was still smiling when he pressed a chaste kiss to your forehead. “I’ll pick you up tomorrow, okay? Wear something cute.”

You made some sort of strange yet quiet noise of acknowledgment, watching him with slightly parted lips as he walked out of the doors and back to his car. Jeonghan had just kissed you. On the forehead, yeah, but it was still a kiss. And not like he had kissed you in the shower, either, this one felt different. Tingly. You’d have probably stayed rooted to that spot if Sakura hadn’t started yelling for you to get back to work.

“Coming!”

Mornings always seemed to come too fast for you, especially when you were going anywhere with Jeonghan. Time had to be speeding up on purpose knowing that you were always rushing to get ready lest you make Jeonghan late to one of his unmissable and very important (that you were still shocked to discover how much he despised) events.

You were worried about wearing the “wrong thing” even though you had no idea you should wear for something like this and texted Jeonghan for help last night. He responded with a short explanation of what he’d be wearing and said that you could just wear whatever you thought would match or complement what he’d have on. And then he’d sent one more a few minutes after that. One that read:

good night [y/n] sleep thigh

You had responded with a series of question marks, expecting some kind of explanation or clarification, but he must’ve gone to sleep right after that because there was no response for the rest of the night.

So when you had settled yourself into the passenger seat of his car, you’d decide to question him about it now.

“Oh, I meant sleep tight,” Jeonghan told you. He pointed at the seatbelt, staring at you until you were buckled up and only then did the car start to move. “Were you really thinking about that all night? Even I make spelling mistakes, [Y/n].”

You could sense that he was about to start laughing even before you started talking. “No! I just…whatever, nevermind.” And you’d been right, Jeonghan laughed just like he always did whenever you seemed to make what you considered a fool of yourself in front of him. He noticed that you were frowning from the corner of his eye and placed one of his hands on your thigh. You flinched at the contact.

“What?” He asked, starting to pull it away, but you grabbed it and placed it back down.

“Nothing.” You shook your head. “It’s nothing. Your hands are just cold.” This made him smirk. He poked your cheek, your forearm, and your upper thigh, the smile on his face getting wider each time you shivered and tried to push it away. “Quit it!”

“You like it,” he was giggling now, and you were too. You didn’t even realize that you were until he had pointed to your mouth and laughed even harder. As long as Jeonghan had known you, you’d never giggled before. He joked that he was starting to rub off on you as he poked you with his cold fingers one more time. “I like that dress, by the way.” His hand found its way back to your thigh, feeling slightly less cold now. Maybe the heat of your body was warming him up, because you definitely felt hot right now.

“Thank you.”

“Mhm. You wore it just for me, didn’t you?”

Your eyes grew the slightest bit wider. That was partly the truth, yes. You’d also worn it because he’d told you to wear something nice and this dress just so happened to be one of the nicest pieces of clothing you owned that was appropriate for an event like this. The former option seemed to be the one he was more interested in though, seeing as how he was pushing up the hem of the dress and glancing at your underwear—and the wet patch on it.

“Well, yeah, you kinda told me to.” Jeonghan loved the fact that you were actively choosing to either ignore the fact that you were wet right now or pretend like it didn’t faze you. He pressed one of his (still somewhat cold) fingers on the spot and started to rub it, making you shiver and moan. “J-Jeonghan, you’re doing this now?”

“Ah, you know what? You’re right. My hands are still cold, aren’t they?” He mumbled, but his hand stayed placed firmly against your upper thigh. You hated the way you whined at his teasing and the way you craved more. “Aww, baby. I was just doing what you wanted. Are you mad at me now?”

“You’re literally the worst!” Huffing, you slapped his hand away and Jeonghan, stubborn as ever, just placed it right back down on your thigh. “Don’t touch me.” You tried sounding stern despite the way you were starting to grin, much to Jeonghan’s amusement.

“I owe you one, okay?” His voice was full of nothing but sincerity as he pulled the edges of your dress back down. “Put on a good show for Jihyo and I’ll let you cum as many times as you want later, deal?”

Your response came immediately, like you hadn’t even had to think about it. “Deal.”

Jihyo was even prettier in person. You weren’t used to seeing her without her hair in a bob, like Chaewon, but she seemed to be in the process of growing her hair out. Her skin was a little tanner in person and she had a smile that was kind and natural, which made you feel at ease.

“So, everyone, I’m sure you’ve all seen the pictures, right? Of Jeonghan and his supposed girlfriend?” Jihyo turned so that she faced the audience, nodding along at their responses. “I know, I saw them too, and when I tell you my jaw literally dropped. I was like, I’ve gotta get him back on the show. Well here he is, everyone! And with his mystery girl too!” She held one of her arms out and the audience erupted into applause seeing you and Jeonghan hand in hand walk onto the set. Jihyo clapped as well, watching the two of you the whole time while you took your seats beside each other.

“It’s good to be back, Jihyo. Thanks for having me.” Jeonghan was as polite as ever, his fingers still interlaced with your own. The woman just scoffed and shook her head.

“Oh, it’s nothing! You know how much of a joy you are to have on set.” Then she turned to you, eyebrows shooting up. “And you! What’s your name, sweetie?”

“I’m [Y/n].” The smile on your face was a little awkward, but the audience still received the interaction positively and applauded once more.

“Well [Y/n], aren’t you a lucky girl?” She leaned a little forward in her seat. “You’re doing what a lot of other girls could literally only dream of. How does it feel to be dating Jeonghan?”

It’s everything I’ve ever wanted. It’s like a dream come true. It’s perfect, in every sense of the word. And it’s all one big lie.

“It’s…it’s really crazy to think about it, you know? Like, I’m just a normal girl, but I’m dating him?” You ended your reply by gesturing to Jeonghan, both of you smiling. More clapping came from the audience. It seemed to be going well.

“That’s totally understandable. If I were you, I would’ve lost it. You probably did lose it a little, I would imagine, right?” You nodded at her question, recalling the day he had proposed the whole idea to you. Thinking about how you managed to keep your nerves under control in that situation amazed you, followed by a surge of pride for being able to keep up your act on nonchalance so well when in Jeonghan’s presence. So in Jihyo’s words, yeah, you did lose it just a little.

“Right, right. And you, mister, how long has this been going on?” Jihyo pointed one of her neatly manicured fingers right at Jeonghan. “I remember you saying you’d never keep that special someone a secret.”

Jeonghan leaned back and rested his hands flat on the arms of his chair. “[Y/n] wasn’t ready to be in the public eye. She was just nervous, and I’d never make her do something she didn’t want to. Forgive me.” Seeing the fake pout on his lips caused one to form on Jihyo’s face as well. He was pretty good at this lying on the spot stuff. Maybe a little too good.

“You sweet thing. What a considerate boyfriend. Anyone else feeling a little bit jealous right now?” Jihyo glanced at the audience, responding as eagerly as ever. “I’m definitely feeling a little envious. Like just a pinch. No, but seriously, I wanna know everything. Oh, tell us this: who fell in love first? I’m really curious.”

You sat up in your seat a little straighter. Should you answer? Should you tell the truth? Would Jeonghan finally get the hint you just confessed right now, or would he think you’re just playing along?

“I did.” You snapped your head in Jeonghan’s direction, and you felt tingly again. It didn’t help that he winked at you either, insinuating that this was yet another lie and that you should continue to act naturally. The audience was eating this up.

Jihyo held her hands over her open mouth, looking between you and the crowd. “Wow! I…just wow! I’m so shocked! I was expecting you to be the one who…” She couldn’t even finish speaking given her exasperation, but you could read between the lines. Jihyo wasn’t the only one thrown for a loop with his answer, you genuinely had no idea he would say that. “[Y/n], sweetie, did you know he was the one who liked you first?”

“No,” you were being honest for the first time. “I’m just as shocked as you are.” You look at Jeonghan once again, your eyes immediately noticing the smug look written all over his face. You didn’t like it.

A few more questions later, Jihyo announced that there was “no more time, sorry, i know,” and started to dismiss everyone on the set. You and Jeonghan gave her one last round of polite smiling and goodbyes before you let Jeonghan escort you back to his car. The difference in your moods was stark; Jeonghan seemed to be on cloud nine while you were still hung up over what he had told Jihyo earlier.

“Um, Jeonghan, about what you said back there…”

“I know, right! Did you see the faces of the people in the audience?” He looked so happy, sounded so happy. Anyone could tell he was enjoying the attention. You weren’t. You wanted answers.

You rolled your eyes. “Yeah, I saw them. They really just eat up anything you say, even if you’re lying.”

For the first time in a while, you noticed a dramatic change in Jeonghan’s expression. It was only for a second, maybe less, but it happened. Something like nervousness mixed with a dash of sadness and a pinch of guilt mixed together and slapped right onto the canvas of his face to create the masterpiece of his composure being lost. And then just as quickly as he let it fall, he slapped the mask back onto his face in the form of that carefree grin.

“I know, and I’m sorry baby. I’ll drop you off and then we’ll talk all about it.”

Jeonghan was good at keeping his promises. He kept the one you made at graduation to see you again—which was probably just dumb luck, but it counted. He kept the one he made to you after you left the gym and brought you to your favorite coffee place so you could a drink and a cake pop. He even kept the one he made to you in Junior year when you dropped Minghao’s phone in the pool (you both blamed it on Mingyu). He had not kept his promise to talk to you about what he said in the interview with Jihyo. You were too occupied with his other promise (technically, it was a deal) you’d made with him before that.

“You’re a natural on camera, baby,” He whispered into your ear, running his hands up and down your sides. Jeonghan had his hand down your underwear the whole drive back to your aunt’s house, and when he finally pulled into the driveway, you were scrambling into his lap. Seeing you so worked up made Jeonghan feel good. He leaned back the drivers seat and let you grind against his erection, flooding the inside of your mind until you could think of nothing but him. “I can tell they just loved you.”

“You really talk too much sometimes,” You mumbled. Jeonghan loved nothing more than when you talked back to him, it only made things more fun when he watched you fall apart on his cock in the moments that would follow. “You and your filthy mouth.”

“Shut me up then.”

Jeonghan licked his lips, and you watched him do so with bated breath. He was challenging you. Up until now, you had never kissed each other. You were afraid that if you did, some kind of invisible, imaginary line would be crossed and then it’d be that much harder to let him go. But what the hell, you’d already had him balls deep inside of you, what was a kiss compared to that?

His perfect, pink, lips were calling out to you like a siren does a sailor. There was no resistance when you finally kissed him, finally feeling the softness of his lips against your own. Jeonghan pulls you closer, the sudden friction between your bare core and his clothed cock making the two of you moan into the other’s mouth.

“Ride me,” He whispered with need. Need, you thought, Jeonghan needed this from you. This would’ve been the ideal time to tease him back considering his current state. But fuck, you needed him too.

Jeonghan helped you unbutton his pants and slide them down along with his boxers just enough for you to sink down onto his aching cock. It felt different, but not in a bad way. He felt so much deeper, so much better, so much closer.

He let a chuckle slip past his lips. “Your heart…it’s beating fast.” His ability to be snarky and annoying never seemed to escape him.

“Is yours not?” You asked him while you rocked your hips back and forth lazily. The last thing you wanted to do was rush this moment, this might be the last time you got to have him like this, you wanted it to last. Jeonghan wrapped his hand around one of your wrists and placed it flat against his chest.

His heart was beating just as fast as yours.

There was probably a word out there somewhere to properly convey the emotions you were feeling, not that you could think of it right now with the way Jeonghan was scrambling not only your insides—but your mind, too.

Neither of you spoke again after that. You became caught up in the moment, in the way each other felt. Jeonghan’s eyes fluttered closed when the motions of your hips became faster, the obscene sound of his moaning overpowering your own gasps and whines of pleasure. He looked a fucked out mess; swollen lips, dark eyes, messy hair, the whole nine yards. If your eyes could take pictures, you’d want a million of him in this moment.

Jeonghan couldn’t stop kissing you. He’d been waiting for you to take the initiative, to let go of your hesitation. And now he was addicted to you and the way you kissed him and slipped your tongue into his mouth like you just couldn’t get enough.

“‘M gonna fucking cum, baby,” he breathed, thrusting up into you without warning. You wrapped your arms around his neck, panting, feeling yourself get close too. He kissed you, sloppily, his dick bruising the spongy spot inside you until you were seeing white. No less than a few seconds later Jeonghan was doing the same, your sloppy cunt milking him dry. You stayed like that for a while, his forehead pressed to yours, until the speed and sound of your breathing fell into the same rhythm.

“I’ve gotta go,” is how he chose to break the silence, kissing you to silence your whine of protest. “I know, I’m sorry. But hey, my family is having a party in a few weeks. Some business shit, probably for publicity. I don’t know all the details, but they told me to bring you so they could finally meet you in person.”

You couldn’t muster any other response aside from a sigh. “I’ll be there.”

He kissed you one last time. “That’s my girl.”

One promise kept, another one broken.

“You know, that day you asked me to cover your shift, I didn’t expect it was because you were running off with your boyfriend to go on some talk show,” Yeonjun mumbled, taking the somewhat heavy box labeled “bathroom” out of your hands and walking it to that room. “It must be nice, right?” His voice echoed through the empty space of your new apartment.

“Why, you jealous?” You could hear him scoff all the way from the bathroom, making you and Chaewon laugh.

It’s been two weeks since you’ve heard from Jeonghan. His schedule has gotten increasingly busier ever since his reappearance on Jihyo’s show (which only made the news of your relationship more popular) , and you missed him for a multitude of reasons. One of them being that talk you never had about what he’d said that day. Every time you’d try to bring it up with him there was always a way he managed to weasel his way out of giving you an answer, so you’d given up trying at this point.

In better news, you’d finally managed to save up enough money to move out of your aunts house and into a decent little apartment downtown. It was kind of small, but it was just you, so you were fine with it. Today you’d finally started to move in most of your things. Joshua, Mingyu, and Soonyoung would come over tomorrow to help you set up your bed and shelves and other things that required the ability to decipher Ikea instructions. Minghao would come too, but not to help put anything together. He just wanted to scope out the place and advise you on the best way to decorate it.

So for now it was just you, your coworkers, and a couple of boxes containing the few things that you owned.

“What was it like seeing Jihyo in person?” Chaewon asked, taking a seat on the edge of the kitchen counter.

“She was nice. And pretty. She’s also more tan in person.” You replied. “I really need to go to the store, I’ve barely got any real furniture.” You stared into your box labeled “kitchen” and felt taunted by the plastic cutlery that rested inside.

There was a sudden knock at the door. You looked at Chaewon and she shrugged, just as clueless as you. You padded to the door, unlocking it and opening it just a crack. It was Jeonghan. Chaewon gasped, and you could hear her jump off of the counter and shuffle over to the doorway. He looked tired and a little annoyed standing there with his hands buried in his pockets. Today must’ve been one of his off days because he was dressed way more casually than he normally was.

“Hey baby. Hi Chaewon.” His voice sounded slightly deeper than you were used to hearing it. Chaewon waved tentatively from her position behind you. “Can I come in?” You took a step to the side, enough to let him come in, and he looked around the mostly empty space with an unreadable expression. “You never told me you moved out of your aunt’s place.”

“Right, yeah, sorry,” You shrugged. “You were just so busy, I didn’t want to bother you. It just slipped my mind.” Jeonghan just shook his head and leaned against the counter.

“It’s fine, I would’ve made time to stop by and help if I’d known. Would’ve been better than all the shit I’ve been doing.”

Chaewon stood awkwardly to the side, soon accompanied by a clueless Yeonjun who had just gotten over the initial shock of seeing Jeonghan inside your apartment. “Um…we should get going right now actually. We’ll come back another day, okay [Y/n]?” She smiled at you and waved to Jeonghan with a bit more confidence this time and yanked Yeonjun out of the apartment behind her by his wrist, shutting the door behind her with a kick of her foot.

The air suddenly felt a lot thicker.

“Do you think you could do me a favor?”

You hummed questioningly, watching Jeonghan’s head drop down and his gaze lower. You followed his eyes all the way down to the bulge in his pants. He frowned when you started laughing.

“This is funny to you?” You only laughed harder, one of your hands hovering over your mouth. “I don’t find anything funny about this.”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” you spoke through your laughs. “How did this even happen?”

He leans his head back and sighs. “I was thinking about you.” Your laughter immediately stops.

You’ve just come to two realizations.

1. Jeonghan admits he gets hard at the mere thought of you.

2. He came running here during one of his few days off because he wants your help dealing with it.

You felt a mix of things right now. Horny—obviously—but also proud, and kind of special. Weirdly enough, you liked the idea of Jeonghan running to you to find some sort of release. Or maybe you just really missed him in the wrong way.

“Come here.” Jeonghan beckons you closer, cupping your face in his hands and rubbing his thumb along your bottom lip. “You’re so pretty…”

“You too,” came your mumbled reply. You reached down to palm him through his sweatpants, eliciting a drawn-out groan from Jeonghan. His hips bucked into your hand, one of his hands wrapped firmly around your wrist similarly to the way he’d done in the car. You slowly sank to your knees, never once breaking eye contact with him.

The sight of you on your knees, looking up at him through your eyelashes and your bottom lip between your teeth, Jeonghan could’ve blown a fucking load right then and there.

“Did you miss me, Hannie?”

Jeonghan sucked in a sharp breath when you yanked down his pants and boxers at the same time, exposing his cock to the cool air of your apartment. “I always miss you, baby.”

You paused for a moment and wondered if he really meant that, but with his dick literally in your face you came to the conclusion that maybe it wasn’t the best time to mull things over. You peppered his tip with kisses and ran your hands up and down the base. You’d almost forgotten how much you love it when he moans for you.

“S-so good…you’re so good to me,” he rested his hands on the top of your head, breathing shakily when you finally closed your lips around him. Just when he thought he couldn’t become any more addicted to you, you went and proved him wrong.

You choked and dug your fingers into his thighs at an unexpected show of force from Jeonghan, pushing his cock deeper down your throat with a thrust of his hips. A loud gag shot out of your mouth when it hit the back of your throat, tears starting to well up inside of your eyes. He would’ve apologized if he didn’t think you didn’t like the sight of you like this. “You’re fucking perfect,” he said it without thinking, too caught up in the moment.

A single tear trailed down your cheek. You moaned around him and he copied the sound, the vibrations making him shiver with pleasure. Your jaw was starting to hurt, just a little, but Jeonghan seemed too far gone go notice anything but his own need to cum down your throat. You whined as loudly as you could, and that’s when he finally seemed to get the memo.

His grip became the slightest bit looser, letting you wrap your hands around whatever you couldn’t fit in your mouth. You feel kind of gross when you notice that there’s spit dripping down your chin, but Jeonghan thought it was one of the hottest things he’d ever seen. He literally couldn’t take his eyes off of you, big brown eyes now dark with arousal.

“Will you be good and swallow for me, pretty girl?” He asked, though the question seemed entirely unnecessary given that you would’ve done so anyway. Nevertheless, you hummed in agreement, which was all he needed before the warmth of his cum spilled into your mouth. His body went limp once you tore yourself away from him and he leaned back against the countertop.

“I’ve never actually done that before, by the way,” you mentioned all too casually. Jeonghan stared at you, completely dumbfounded, like you hadn’t just sucked the soul out of him. Your face felt hot when you noticed his face. “What?”

“It’s kind of hard for me to believe that after what you just did, but okay.” He shook his head. “Oh, by the way, the party my parents are having is on a Thursday. Totally random, I know, but at lease you won’t have to call off and miss work. You can still make it, right?”

He really remembered that?

“Yeah…I can still come.” Jeonghan smiled and kissed the tip of your nose. It made you giggle. Maybe he really was rubbing off on you after all.

“Perfect.” You expected that to be it and for him to leave you, but instead he picked up one of the boxes on the floor and began unpacking the contents inside. “Do you like it here?”

“Huh?” You pushed aside the shock you felt by him still being here to give a proper answer. “Oh, yeah. It’s nice. The people upstairs are kind of loud at night, though.”

Now he was giggling. You groaned and rolled your eyes. “Not that kind of loud, Jeonghan. You’re so gross.” He was smiling at you, totally unbothered.

“You love me.”

Oh, if only he knew.

Thursday has never come so fast. Time definitely had something against you, and this was the proof.

The venue for the party—some building as fancy as it was big located in the heart of the city—was hot with dim lights and hallways that were way too long. Dozens of people were lined up around the entrance with cameras and microphones. You couldn’t tear your eyes away from them, even from the passengers seat of Jeonghan’s car, and he grumbled.

“The fucking press is still out here?”

It’s late in the evening. The sun is setting. They’ve been camping out here for days. These people are nothing if not devoted.

“You did say this was a publicity event,” you squeezed his hand. “We’ll just walk fast and smile.”

A smile broke onto his face. “I’ve only done that, like, three times.”

“I remember it being more than that, actually.”

He pouted at you, making you giggle. He was so cute it was almost unbelievable.

“Are you nervous?”

“Well, maybe just a little.” It wasn’t the party or the public that scared you, but the idea of meeting Jeonghan’s parents made your stomach churn. He eased your worries with a kiss, then another, and another.

“You’ll be fine. I promise.”

You wanted to believe him. You don’t know if you really do. There’s no fooling your brain, but your heart is much more easily swayed by his words. He holds your hand tightly as he leads you past the hundreds of cameras and people crying out your name followed by some of the strangest questions you’ve probably ever been asked—no, definitely ever been asked. You squint your eyes, allowing them to adjust to the low interior lighting, and you can see two people approaching. Jeonghan’s thumb rubs the back of your hand to soothe you.

“Ready?” He mumbles. You smile and nod.

“Not like I have a choice.”

“Jeonghan! [Y/n]! So happy you could make it.” His father greets you warmly, paired with a smile and a firm handshake. His mom is a bit less reserved with her affection, immediately pulling you into a hug.

“You look lovely, dear. Absolutely stunning.” You smile at the compliment. “It’s so good to finally meet you in person.”

“I feel the same. I’m still a little shaky.” You laughed and it seemed to ease the tension, given the way his parents laughed along with you. His father handed you a skinny glass of champagne which you eagerly accepted, sipping down the bubbly liquid. Jeonghan let go of your hand, now holding a glass of his own.

“I hope Jeonghan doesn’t give you too much trouble. We know he can be a bit of a handful at times.” The woman said, getting another laugh out of his father and you.

“Mom, please.”

“No, it’s okay. He’s really such a great guy. Our time together has been…” You sucked in a breath and glanced up at Jeonghan. He looked down at you, smirking. “…special.”

“Jeonghan? Oh, it really is him! Jeonghannie!”

You and Jeonghan both turned your heads to search for the source of the voice, both of your eyes landing on a girl with dark hair and plump lips waving at Jeonghan.

“Momo,” he smiled at her. “Good to see you. I didn’t know you’d be here.”

Momo smiled back. “We would’ve been here earlier, but Sana couldn’t decide on what to wear and Mina wasn’t being any help.” She huffed at the memory and shook her head. “But we’re here now. Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t even see you.”

You smiled tightly, trying to remain polite. “It’s fine.” It wasn’t fine. It was the exact opposite of fucking fine. Not only was this Momo girl interrupting your moment with Jeonghan and his parents, but she was also acting as if you were invisible. And worst of all, Jeonghan seemed less bored with her sudden appearance and was paying more attention to her than you.

You paused. Were you getting jealous?

“Hey, you don’t mind if Jeonghan takes some pictures with me and my friends, right?” She put a hand on your arm and squeezed lightly, snapping you out of your daze.

“No, it’s okay.” Momo smiled again, and you couldn’t help but notice just how pretty she was. With your approval, Momo linked her arm with Jeonghan’s, leading him to the opposite end of the room where two other girls stood waiting, their faces lighting up at the sight of the male model she had managed to drag along with her.

“Come on [Y/n] dear, he’ll be back. Oh, there are some people we’d like you to meet. Have you met Kang Seulgi? She’s a very talented designer.” Jeonghan’s mom rambled on, guiding you towards an expectant looking crowd of people.

Shockingly (well, it was shocking to you), your attention is the one thing that the majority of the other guests seem to be after. Many of them gather around you and Jeonghan’s parents, hanging off every word you say and looking at you like you’re one of the most precious things they’ve ever had the pleasure of laying eyes on. The topic of the evening is, of course, your relationship with Jeonghan.

"It's..." You search for him in the somewhat dark expanse of space, but you couldn't find him anywhere. He probably ran off somewhere with Joshua, no doubt.

Jeonghan had fucked you over. He’d brought you here just to abandon you. He made you feel special just so you’d make him look good in front of his parents. You felt like some kind of broken toy, so easily thrown to the side once he no longer wanted to play with you.

"I don't know. It's a lot of things. I'm happy though, you know? He's good to me." You smiled, the lie stinging your throat and burning your tongue. There was only so much more of all this attention you could take.

“You’re so lovely, [Y/n].”

“Isn’t she just a dear?”

“She’s the sweetest! Don’t you just love her?”

And there it was; your breaking point. One of your hands flew over your mouth, keeping the pathetic sob from escaping. Concern flashed across the faces of the guests, and you apologized as best as you could as you pushed your way through the mass of bodies and out to the hallway. None of them followed you, probably still confused as to why you had even run away in the first place, but it didn’t matter. None of this mattered.

Jeonghan’s friends loved you. The media loved you. His parents loved you. All these guests whose names you didn’t even know loved you. Everyone loved you but Jeonghan, so in the end none of it even mattered. He had no problem discarding you when you were no longer of use to him, like you were nothing, because he didn’t love you.

You finally cried. The regret, the guilt, it consumed you. You slid down to the floor, your face covered by your hands, crying on the floor like a child.

“[Y/n]?”

You could recognize Jeonghan’s voice in a heartbeat. He stared down at you, worry written all over his pretty face, but you gave him no response.

“Why are you crying?”

He knelt down beside you, trying to get you to at least look at him. You wiped away the last of your tears and sighed.

“I think we need to end this, Jeonghan.”

“What?” He seemed genuinely shocked that you said that. “[Y/n], we’re more popular than ever. That wasn’t the deal.”

You picked yourself up off of the floor, suddenly overcome with anger. "Is that seriously all you care about? How popular you are? What about me?”

His silence was painful.

“God, of course. I don’t even know why I bothered asking. You only care about yourself.”

“That’s not true. I care about you, [Y/n]. You know that.” Jeonghan frowned.

Under different circumstances you might’ve believed him, let him sway you with his sweet words and sad little expression.

“Do you? It feels like you only care about me when you want your dick sucked or when you want someone to clap for you.”

The look on his face changed in an instant. Jeonghan’s patience was wearing thin, you could tell, but there was a part of him that was holding back.

“If that’s how you really feel, why didn’t you say anything? Why even agree to do this in the first place?”

The words came flying out before you could stop them. “Because I love you, Jeonghan! I’ve always loved you!”

A heavy silence enveloped the hallway. It was tense—suffocatingly so. You could hardly make out how his face changed once more in the low lighting that enveloped you.

“[Y/n]—”

“I’m not done!” You’re not sure when you started crying again, but you arely registered the wet droplets streaming down your cheeks. “I don’t even know why I’ve tried so hard to get you to notice the fact that I love you when it’s obvious the only person you love is yourself. You’re nothing but a selfish asshole. I hate you.”

Your vision was blurred with your tears, but you could just barely make out the dejection painted on his face. It didn’t suit him. You hoped that he would say something, anything, but Jeonghan did nothing but stand there. You couldn’t do anything but laugh pitifully.

“I’m going home. Have fun at your party.”

“Wait, [Y/n], please don’t go. Let’s talk about this.” He held onto your hand when you tried to walk away. You tried to get him to let go, but he wasn’t ready to let go.

“What else is there to say, Jeonghan? We’re over, now leave me alone. Why don’t you go ask Momo to be your fake girlfriend, I’m sure she’d be more than happy to.”

You snatched your hand out of his grasp, fooling yourself with the last bit of hope you had that maybe he would chase after you. He made you a promise, after all.

It’s a shame he couldn’t keep it.

You didn’t go into work on Friday. Or Saturday. Or Sunday. After you got home last night, you buried yourself beneath the covers of your bed, too exhausted to do anything other than lie there in the darkness until you fell asleep. When morning came, you couldn’t even muster up the strength to move, so you called Sakura and said that you were sick and wouldn’t be able to come in for the next few days.

Jeonghan had left you an unbelievable amount of texts and calls, none of which you bothered to respond to. Chaewon and Joshua also texted you to ask about the party and if you’d heard anything from Jeonghan; apparently no one had heard from him since the party. As if you’d know.

On Sunday, you’d managed to tear yourself away from your bed—for longer than a trip to the kitchen or the bathroom—and out onto the couch. A rerun episode of Jihyo’s talk show was playing on the TV, the one that featured you and Jeonghan. You watched with a heavy heart as the two of you walked hand in hand, smiling, waving to the studio audience.

How could you ever fall in love with him? He was just another self serving rich boy who used you for his own personal gain. It didn’t matter that he was charming or funny or cute or—

Fuck, even when you were mad at him you found it impossible to ignore the beating of your own heart when you remembered just how nice it felt to be with him, even if it was all just for show.

Someone was knocking. You sighed, not wanting to get up, but the knocking only grew louder and more urgent.

“Okay, I’m coming! Damn…” You shouted, lifting yourself from the couch and over to the door, frowning at the person standing on the other side.

Jeonghan’s state of being didn’t seem to be any better than yours. His eyes had bags under them, his hair was in desperate need of a brush, and he was still in his pajamas. Even so, he smiled weakly at the sight of you. “I was worried you wouldn’t answer. I’m happy to see you’re doing okay.”

You scoffed. “I’m not.” You missed the way his smile dropped at that. “What do you want?”

“I want to apologize to you.”

Shaking your head, you started to shut the door, almost closing it on Jeonghan’s arm in the process.

“Wait, please! I really mean it, just give me a few minutes and then I’ll be gone, I swear.”

There was no way you were in your right mind, because you actually let him in. He smiled and followed you to the couch, sitting at a distance to keep you from getting uncomfortable.

“I thought about what you said at the party. The stuff you said about me wasn’t wrong. I was being selfish. I did only care about my image. You had every right to be upset with me.”

“I’m still upset with you.”

“And that’s perfectly fine, but just hear me out,” His voice was frantic. “Those two weeks I didn’t talk to you were the worst two weeks of my life. I wasn’t lying when I said I missed you. I really missed you, [Y/n]. And the more I thought about you, the more I realized that I was falling in love. I’m so in love with you, [Y/n].”

You weren’t buying it. “You could’ve texted me. Or called. Or something.”

Jeonghan turned to face you, eyes flickering over your face. “I wanted to, and I should’ve, but…”

“…But what?”

His cheeks were growing pinker by the second.

“But what, Jeonghan?”

“But I didn’t want you to leave me. I didn’t tell you how I felt because I thought it would overwhelm you. If you start to feel real feelings in a fake relationship, what are you supposed to do?” He sounded so…sad.

When the reality of his words finally sunk in, clarity followed. Jeonghan was in love with you. Jeonghan was scared that you would want things to be over. Jeonghan was worried about how you would react to him.

You breathed out a laugh.

“You’re such a dummy, Jeonghan. Why would I ever leave you?”

His sadness evaporated, now replaced with relief and joy and love. He pulled you into a hug and sighed happily when you returned it.

“I’m so sorry. I never meant to hurt you. My heart literally fucking broke when you cried because of me and my shitty attitude.”

“Oh, but I love your shitty attitude. Just not when it’s making me cry.”

“Good. Pretty girls shouldn’t cry.” He whispered against your lips before kissing you. You felt giddy at the way his lips moved against yours, smiling into the kiss. He gently pushed you so you were lying on your back, breaking away to look down at you.

“My pretty girl…” He said again, voice sweeter than sugar, fingers trailing up your legs. They felt cold against your burning hot skin, and it made you shiver. “Gonna let me make you feel good like you deserve?”

“Yes, Hannie, please.”

Jeonghan groaned, pausing the movement of his fingers to bask in the sound of you begging for him. You had no idea what you did to him and it made his dick that much harder. “Good girl. I’ll take care of you.”

“Hurry up, your hands are cold,” You whined. His eyes flashed with mischief, pressing his fingers down into the flesh of your inner thigh, watching you shiver and moan.

“I don’t know, I think that you like it, am I right?”

“If you don’t hurry up and touch me, I’ll do it myself.” To prove your point, you slipped your shorts off and tossed them somewhere onto the floor. Jeonghan touched you before you could even think about sliding off your underwear, cupping your leaking cunt with his hand.

“The only one who gets to play with this pretty pussy is me, baby. Don’t ever forget it.” You moaned at how fast his demeanor seemed to change, nodding furiously as you tried to grind into his hand to relieve the ache he was making you feel.

Pouting and panting, you looked up at him. “Hannie, don’t be mean…”

He found it insane how he didn’t realize how whipped he was for you earlier. Like really, he was totally wrapped around your finger. This must’ve been how you felt for all those years.

“Whatever you want, baby,” He lifted your legs a little higher, situating himself so he was lying flat on his stomach, face only a few inches away from your cunt. He pushed your underwear to the side, gasping at the sight of how wet you were. “Shit, baby, you’re fucking dripping.”

“Just for you.”

He seemed pleased with that. “Better be.”

Jeonghan buried his face in between your legs, groaning when the taste of you hits his mouth. He’s making an even bigger mess of you, licking at you greedily and sloppily, drowning himself in the wetness between your thighs.

You’re moaning louder than you think you ever have in your life. Shaky fingers slide into his soft dark hair, gripping tightly. He doesn’t seem to mind though, already too caught up in you to register the little bit of pain. You grind into his face, staining the lower half of his face with your arousal.

“Hannie, fuck,” You manage to say despite your fucked out state. Jeonghan hums, and the sensation makes your thighs close around his head. If you could speak, you would apologize, but Jeonghan seems to grow impossibly more aroused by the act.

He slips two of his fingers inside of you, it’s easy given how wet you are and keep getting, while he occupies his tongue on your clit. Your eyes roll into the back of your head, any and all coherent thoughts having escaped you in that moment. The only thing you could focus on was Jeonghan, his lips, and his fingers.

You could feel yourself getting close, a familiar feeling blooming in your stomach. Jeonghan could feel it too with the way you were tightening around his fingers and arching your back to stay as close to him as you can. He circles your clit with his tongue before starting to suck on it, your legs shaking with the force of your orgasm.

“You taste so good,” Jeonghan says, licking his lips clean of every last drop of you. He presses one last long, lingering kiss to your pussy before gathering the strength to pull away and wipe his mouth clean.

“We could’ve kept going.” The look you gave him was so innocent and sweet, a contrast to the way your legs were still spread open with your juices staining your inner thighs. You almost convinced him. Almost.

“Don’t look at me like that,” He spoke slowly and softly, as if he was in no rush to give you more despite the painfully obvious tent in his pants.

“Well then hurry up and fuck me already.”

Jeonghan doesn’t want to keep you waiting, but he can’t help but tease you just a little bit more. He sheds his clothes with little urgency, and he smirks like the little cocky shit he is when he sees the way you’re looking at him, like you could just devour him here and now. It’s like you were seeing him naked for the first time all over again, astonished by the sight of him. He was just so pretty all over.

He slides the tip of his cock up and down your slit, teasing your entrance until you were squirming. “Hannie, please,” you whined, steadying your hands on his shoulders. Clearly he was just as desperate as you were, because he pushed into with a groan no more than a moment later.

“So tight, baby, shit. Are you trying to make me cum already?”

His strokes are slow and deep, and you can feel every single inch of him inside of you as he drags himself all the way out before slamming back inside. Whenever you clench around him, he falters and lets himself moan something unintelligible about how good you feel or how pretty you are.

“F-Faster, Hannie, I want—” Jeonghan cut you off with a sloppy kiss, swallowing each and every one of your noises.

He cooed at you and shook his head with fake disapproval. “When did you get so demanding?” Your words turned into whimpers when he increased both the pace and the force of his thrusts, rendering your ability to speak useless. “You know I’ve got you baby, I know what you need.”

“Stop talking like that.” Your nails dragged down his back, streaking his unblemished skin with thin red lines.

“What are you gonna do if I don’t? You gonna cum and make a mess of yourself all over my cock, huh baby?”

You whimpered again, leaving Jeonghan to assume that he was correct and giving him yet another ego boost. With one hand, he pushed your shirt up to reveal your braless chest, kissing and sucking at the supple skin of your tits.

There was no way you weren’t going to be getting a noise complaint. The sounds coming from Jeonghan’s hips snapping against yours paired with the steady stream of sounds coming from both you and Jeonghan were sure to have them making a fuss. Not that any of that mattered at the moment, well, not to either of you.

His hand snakes between your bodies, rubbing feverishly at your abused bundle of nerves, whispering so sweetly into your ear the words “cum for me” which is all you needed before doing just that. Jeonghan watches your face as you cum, and he thinks that you’ve never looked more beautiful than you do now, letting yourself fall apart underneath him like this.

“I love you so much,” He says in between his strained grunts of pleasure. “So fucking much, baby.” Even after you had already cum, Jeonghan’s hips never once stopped moving against yours.

“I love you too, Hannie, fuck.” The overstimulation was starting to hit you, and you whimpered because of it.

“I know, baby. I’m almost there.”

His tip is bruising your sweet spot with each of his thrusts, making you squeeze around him impossibly tighter, and the feeling makes him so dizzy, reminding him of the fact that he is truly and utterly yours. “Want me to cum inside you, pretty girl? Use your words and tell me.”

“Yes, yes, please, Hannie! Need your cum inside of me!” Your mouth and body are reacting on their own, saying and doing what they want as you feel yourself cum a second time. He doesn’t hold back anymore, the warm sensation of his cum being fucked deeper and deeper into you overtaking all of your senses, leaving you feeling fuzzy and lightheaded.

Jeonghan’s head rests on your chest, breathing in your scent and listening to the sound of your heart. He’s too lazy and too tired to pull out, but you don’t mind. “Can you be my girlfriend for real now?” Even as you work to catch your breath, he still manages to make you laugh.

“Hm, I don’t know, nobody was around to hear you say that, should we go find you an audience?” You tease, and Jeonghan whines loudly and shakes his head.

“In that case, yes. I’d love to be your girlfriend.”

[is-on-its-way]

The moment Mulder quits

A point in which Mulder was ready to quit the minute he saw Scully hold a baby in season 7 and its effects in season 8

*this is my headcanon, its not gospel obviously Firstly, two scenes that are very linked in my head

Season 7 Ep 22 Requiem and Season 8 Ep 16 Three Words

Look at that face. That dead serious, at all costs face.

Season 7

Requiem. The culmination of Scully and Mulder's secret yearish? long quest for a baby. They've tried for a baby with IVF already. Mulder has promised her he wont give up on a miracle for her and they're well... trying basically, throughout season 7. Perhaps I would call it "hoping" for a baby. Maybe Mulder is hoping and Scully is characteristically ambivalent? Fully not using any contraceptives and I know there's a fic in there somewhere, anyway

The first scene above is why Ive never watched past the season 8 finale. nothing past them agreeing to be a family makes any sense because of Mulders face here. People knock Duchovny for not showing out when acting, but I will always be a defender of subtle acting. The way he can say an entire monologue of dialogue with the minute expressions on his face is quite breathtaking here.

Hes goes from sorrow at Scully not being able to have a baby, sorrow at her loss, sorrow at not being able to give her that; to regret at what he thinks is all his fault, at dragging her into this life; to pure love and affection for her seeing this baby in her lap and how good she is with him; and then a smile peaks out. A smile of hope that could compete with the Mona Lisa. Hope for their future and the certainty with which he knows what he wants so clearly, maybe for the first time in his life. His own family.

Like for the first time hes really deciding the cost is too much and he chooses her over the mission. He chooses their future over everything. And he's hopeful and perhaps even happy about it. which for someone with his amount of family trauma is a seismic shift. For so long he's chased the past in hope of fixing it, completely discombobulated and reckless in his search for well, his family.

Though, from the beginning of that moment in the rainy graveyard, he has slowly unconsciously coming to regard Scully as his family. In small gestures, a hand on her cheek or voicing out loud how important she is to him; to big gestures, giving up who he believes is his actual sister to save her.

We are lucky here, to be able to witness the moment the sparks of unconscious thought bloom into the flame of certainty. He follows up as well. Tells her she has to stay, that the cost doesn't outweigh the price anymore. Sure he wants to finish out this case, but he doesn't work without her, thats been established. Him telling her to stop, is his resignation as well. (There's a fit there too, with Skinner and him on the plane probably Skinner already knowing he's done.)

Thomas Flight praises subtly in acting better than I could ever articulate here:

Season 8

Mulder was weird and the PTSD was implied, but I choose to see it everywhere. After the moment in three words where Mulder tries to let them go gently because he thinks he's too damaged to be a father (Thanks @randomfoggytiger for the meta on that) (there's a fic here obviously where Scully gives him the space to be broken and also hers) After this though, he's not the Mulder as we've seen, ever. He's not the Mulder who

cares about exposing the government so he can say I told you so

cares about saving the public from the invasion

cares about finding the ultimate truth that has driven him since he found the X files

cares about solving cases and one upping the FBI, trying to force them to admit the truth out loud.

Mulder is fighting the entire season for his family.

he cares about exposing the conspiracy so everyone including his child will be safe.

he cares about saving the earth for his child's future

he cares about his childs and his families safety

he has zero concern about the FBI and what they do anymore.

In the second scene above, he's about had it with the entire conspiracy and he's downright pissed. He wants it all to end he doesn't care how. He wants to protect his child above everything. Sure he's usually reckless but this isn't for him and his self involved cause anymore, it's for his family, his wellbeing be damned at some points along the way. He states his thesis in three words while breaking into FBI files in an astonishing show of recklessness

"Look, Scully, I need to make sense of what happened to me. So that I can stop it. Because if I can't stop it, it could happen to anyone. It could happen to you. And who's to say it's going to stop there?"

I always wondered why he was putting Scully through all that, without realising this was the reason. Poor guy. There's nothing else in his purview anymore besides that baby who's in danger, and his family, so much so, when he is ultimately fired from the FBI, he's positively giddy at his newfound freedom.

If he had then gone down a path temporarily where he murdered his way through the remnants of the syndicate to assure the safety of his family John Wick style, I would've absolutely believed it.

It would've been insanely intriguing look at an evolving dynamic between Scully and Mulder. Scully law abiding Mulder reckless as always but with a different motivation. Becoming what he's always feared, to protect the family he has never had. A family he feels like he's only grasping at, as they're slipping through his fingers due to the danger and his recent and past traumas.

There's a reason a lot of the fandom sees Mulder as a happy stay at home dad post wherever they decide to end watching. Thats what he's been searching for his entire life. A happy family with loving parents. When he let go of that dream for himself in Closure, he found he could want that for his future family whatever that looked like (adoption, a miracle, etc.) in Requiem. And I personally don't believe he ever would let that dream go once he realised, I mean we all saw the devotion he had to his sister right?

In other words these are my reasons season 9 onwards make zero sense and I regard them as AU

[artful-aries]

Genshin Headcanons: Ways They Show Affection (Dottore, Dehya)

Dottore

​​Affection is not the Doctor’s forte

​​The definition of calm, cool, and collected, he’s not going to just give you a kiss on your cheek or hold you in his arms

​​If anything, you’ll find yourself begging for him to pay some attention to you

​​The man just often gets sucked into his research, almost forgetting about your existence. You’re still special though, if anyone else interrupted his research, they would be dead by now

​​Still, for him to stop his research and actually give you attention, the stars need to align and he needs to be in a good mood

​​On these lucky days, he will gladly hold you hand as he works, or perhaps sit in his lap if it doesn’t impede his research and you promise to not squirm around too much

​​If you are really good and let him finish his research for the day, Dottore will give you the affection that you crave. Kisses, a warm embrace, the whole nine yards. He’s just….a little intense about it

​​Takes the time to tell you how wonderful he thinks your body is, but not in a sexy way

​​The way he talks, it almost sounds like he either thinks you’re the divine among mortals, or a prime candidate for organ harvesting. You still aren’t sure which he leans towards

​​Outside of physical affection, Dottore is thoughtful enough to leave you notes before he heads off to the lab to research. They are simple; telling you to take care of yourself, where you can find him, sending you his regards, nothing poetic but it shows that he does think about you.

​​He gives gifts…in the form of the results of his latest research. Sometimes it genuinely neat things, like brighter, more sustainable magical crystals. Other times, it’s strange amalgamations of things you rather remain blissfully unaware of

​​It’s almost like he’s showing off his abilities, like a cat that brings back a dead mouse for you to praise them for

​​

​​Dehya

​​Her affection is rough, but it comes in abundance

​​She totally gives you noogies on top of your head, plays pranks on you to get you flustered, or straight up manhandles you and flings you into an oasis pool. Having grown up mostly around men her whole life, she doesn’t see anything wrong with this

​​If you complain she will try to be more gentle; she won’t give you noogies anymore, but she won’t stop the pranks. Sorry, she thinks your shocked face is hilarious

​​Physical affection comes naturally to Dehya, she’s always got an arm around you, planting kisses on your cheek if other mercenaries stare at you for too long, etc

​​When the two of you alone, Dehya almost gets nervous about touching you. She wants to so bad, but she psyches herself out, thinking that she might go too far and make you uncomfortable

​​Dehya is a good gift giver too, she secretly saves up money from her jobs to get you nice trinkets and things that she finds in her travels

​​Her fatal flaw is that she is bad about taking you in dates; she spends a lot of quality time with you, but rarely thinks about taking you to any place fancy

​​It’s not that she doesn’t love you enough, the concept just seems a bit weird to her. Why would she take you to a stuffy place when she can spend that time stargazing with you out in the desert?

​​If you insisted she would make a good effort, but you would be able to tell she’s a little on edge and uncomfortable the entire time

​​The best time for Dehya is sitting under the shade of a tree at an oasis, soaking her feet in the water with you as you both laugh about everything and nothing at all

[riphobisbraces]

The Lucky Seven | BTS ot7 x reader

Hybrid/Royal AU

~ Prologue ~

[word count: 500+]

❀ genre: dark royal core, hybrid au, royalty au, hybrids/knights!ot7 x human/princess!reader, afab (she/her) reader, polyamory (mostly ot7 x reader), strangers to lovers, daddy dom, smut and sexual sometimes. tiny bits of horror

❀ warnings: smut, swearing, murder, death (not the reader or ot7 though, I’m not evil), mentions of inbreeding (not between reader or ot7) some unsettling horror depictions, it won’t be every chapter though or the whole story, just little bits here and there. (I’m willing to re write chapters for you to read if you can’t do horror but still wanna follow along, just ask! 🖤)

——— summary ———

In a world of hybrids and humans, following each other closely to extinction, you are one of the last full humans, Princess y/l/n of the emerald nation. humans are essential for the survival of hybrids so why are assailants hunting you and your family down? because of this, the court has decided it’d be best for you to be guarded at all times by the nations strongest knights, you’ve only ever heard of them but have never seen their faces. What will happen once you come face to face with the infamous “lucky seven”?

^^ you know the vibes! :))

[ prologue ]

Humans are precious, without them, the hybrid species would not be able to survive. Because of this, hybrids have always put them in high regards, protecting them and being more than happy to serve families or single households as butlers, maids, governesses and more but most importantly, becoming a part of the family, a family member.

However one incident hundreds of years ago have put both the human and hybrid species at risk, now humans hold even more power than they did before, with only a few dozen of full human families left. This incident a hundred years ago led to an agreement amongst high ranking hybrid officials, these families will become protected and considered what we know as, royals.

Kingdoms arose far and wide, each nation has their own human royal family, the lifeline of the hybrids of that nation. But because of the fear of extinction and inbreeding within the humans, there have been rules implemented , each family must produce at least one heir, they must court another member from another family and so this happened. This went on for years and the officials thought hybrid and human-kind were safe but failed to acknowledge the impending danger.

They realized they would soon have to start inbreeding within the families. The horrifying predicaments that their last human families could end up in was more than enough to choose something else, something unheard of.

Instead of the atrocities that could await their humans, they decided to create half hybrids, and then quarter hybrids in an attempt to keep the human blood strong, they allowed certain higher ranked hybrids to mate and produce half hybrids with the royals, of course this was all in vain because now there only leaves one full blooded human family left. humans are hybrid lifelines, without them, they cannot survive. Hybrids need the blood of humans to survive, without it, they can stay trapped in animal form forever.

They would lose their senses, memories then soon enough, perish. Because of this, humans are seen as gods, something to be grateful for and protect. A single droplet of pure human blood can save a whole village for a year. their bodily sacrifices are seen as selfless therefore hybrids feel the need to repay them for their lives in any way that they can.

But because of hybrid-human breeding, the blood is getting weaker, needing more and more to sustain a village. there is only one royal family left with full humans. you are the princess and only child of that family.

Your family is being targeted for unknown reasons, seeing as the species needs you to survive and stay strong, it’s basically unheard of. The court and your father have decided that they need to assign their strongest knights in the kingdom to guard and protect you. They are the most noble and capable knights heard of throughout the nations, their name is enough to make any criminal or wrong doer shiver and back down.

They’re a pack of full hybrids, and they’re called the lucky seven.

a/n: I’m so very excited to be finally writing this, this concept has been on my mind forever! also it’s my first fanfiction so please be nice :) I’ll be writing chapter one and two tomorrow 🖤

Next chapter :

[ijustliketoreadstuff]

The choice that Kagami regretted.

In "Protection", Kagami comes to the realization that she had fallen in love with Adrien again.

Originally, Kagami was set in her decision to not only end her romantic relationship with Adrien, but also help him and Marinette find their way to each other, as she knew long ago that they were the ones who were made for each other. 

(in "Mr. Pigeon 72", Regardless, of Marinette's effort, Kagami was set in her decision to end things with Adrien)

(In "Mr. Pigeon 72", Kagami understood Adrien and Marinette were made for each other)

And yet, despite previously accepting that a love life with Adrien was likely not meant to be, it was Lila who made Kagami question the choices she felt certain were right, and it all started with resurfacing one simple little emotion, pain.

Kagami used to believe Adrien was perfect and in turn the only one who was perfect enough to be worthy of her love, but it was not until they actually started dating did she realize that she did not know him as well as she thought. Adrien was secretive because of his life as Cat Noir, he distanced himself during important moments to save the day with Ladybug, and his at times undecisive choices disappointed her as it held him back from taking the initiative and saying what he needed to say.

However, in "Protection", as Kagami heard Lila talk about how she too was left broken hearted by a boy she once loved and struggled with the pain of knowing they would never be together, for a split moment, everything Kagami did in regards to Adrien and Marinette came flooding back, revealing to her a truth she had previously accepted, but had not properly grieved and gained closure on, the end of what she thought would have been a long and meaningful love life with Adrien.

(Back in "Heart Hunter," Kagami confides in Ladybug that she truly believed she and Adrien had a future together, believing they were made for each other as they were a lot alike. Such a future with him was something she could not give up, even if it was for the sake of friendship. )

Although Kagami tried to shrug off her past with Adrien and push away any feelings she believed were unimportant, to instead focus on her friendships and attempts to help him and Marinette get closer, it was a single conversation in the kitchen that would not only change her whole perspective of Adrien, but their lost love.

In the kitchen, as Kagami consulted Adrien over the events of the failed Ferris wheel plan and Marinette's struggles, Kagami witnessed Adrien do something she had never seen him do before, she saw him set aside his doubts and take charge.

As much as Kagami knew that Adrien disappointed her in their past relationship, to see him now in "Protection" proclaim how he should be the one to take care of a problem, all the while expressing a great deal of determination and confidence in his decision, made her realize that he was now far from the person who previously disappointed her, he changed, but it was precisely this change that made her fall for him all over again.

As Kagami heard Adrien make so much effort to plan something special for Marinette, she was honest when she said how lucky Marinette was to have someone like him, but deep down, Kagami felt a sense of pain surfacing as she heard the guy she once dated make so much effort for another girl, but not show that same effort when he dated her.

(Back in "Lies", it was Kagami who made the carefully constructed plans for the two of them to spend more time together, outside their busy schedules while also keeping their alone time a secret from their parents.)

(In "Protection", as Riposte Prime, Kagami speaks out about her frustrations and reminds Adrien about his past lack of effort in loving her when they dated)

As much as Tomoe wanted Kagami to take a second chance with Adrien, she couldn't, because she knew Adrien loved Marinette. Coming between them would not only hurt them, but her as well, they were after all, her friends and she loved them both. However, what Lila told her next, not only made Kagami doubt Adrien's past lack of commitment, but her entire perspective on breaking up with him.

Although Lila's words helped resurface Kagami's romantic emotions for Adrien, and although her own mother pushed her to cut the bonds she made so she could take Adrien back from Marinette, the one thing which held her back from taking her mothers extreme advice, was her sense of moral as she knew it was wrong to betray a loving and caring friend like Marinette, a friendship that was ultimately something Lila took away in an instant with a single lie.

Lila knew Kagami would never turn against Marinette if she did not cast aside the love and respect she had for her, and what better way to do that than by convincing Kagami that Marinette was a fraud. (More here)

As much as Lila's lie convinced Kagami that Marinette was secretly a horrible person who lied and manipulated her since the day they met, what finally crushed Kagami was the belief that she had wasted her life trusting and loving a friendship that was never real. As for the time and effort she spent helping Adrien and Marinette come together, well, all of it was now meaningless as it meant that she had not only lost Adrien, but also aided in helping him start a relationship with someone who was completely wrong for him, something her own mother had strongly believed.

Kagami had made the decision to break up with Adrien back in “Lies”, but given all that she has seen Adrien accomplish and having now been swayed into believing that Marinette had lied and manipulated her way into stealing Adrien from her, left her questioning if her decision to break up with him was not only too sudden, but possibly the biggest mistake of her life.

( As Roposte Prime, Kagami claims that Adrien's efforts and love towards Marinette is nothing more than the result of her “lies” and “manipulation” pushing him to love her and do more for her, it was not real and he was a naïve fool for ever believing it was )

Kagami used to believe she and Adrien were made for each other, and knowing now that Adrien had the capacity to change, was enough for her to question if Lila's words were true, that they truly were the ones who were made for each other and that things between her and Adrien were bound to work out, Adrien just needed more time and help from her to become the guy she always thought him to be and had now become, but for the wrong person.

Even after Kagami was de-akumatized, Lila's words stuck to her, making her believe that any of Marinette's attempts to reconcile with her was nothing more than another attempt to lie and manipulate her way out of trouble. Although she attempted to push Marinette away for "falsely befriending her" and "robbing" her of a life with Adrien she thought was meant to be, it was Adrien who took the initiative and cleared her clouded judgment, reminding Kagami of the truth she lost. 

Adrien cared for Kagami and cherished her just as much as any good person in his life, he knew that no matter what it was Lila told her, Kagami knew just as much as he did that Marinette had always proven herself to be a kind and considerate person.

But for Kagami to see Adrien proclaim why it was he loved Marinette, reminded her that true love was something that could not be controlled, the knot that tied Adrien and Marinette together could not be undone, and despite her mother's belief, it could not be cut, not even by her own sword, because no matter how different her friends appeared to be, what they had was real, it was no lie.

Despite the love she and Adrien shared in their past relationship and despite how alike they thought their lives were, the two of them understood they could not ignore the truth, and the truth was that they too were still very different people with their own individual issues, and no matter how they tried to go about it, things just didn't work out between them, because they were simply not meant to be.

No matter how much it pained Kagami to realize that she and Adrien would truly never be together, she knew now better than ever before that she had to learn to acknowledge and sort through her own emotions, to learn to move on with her life just as he did, and accept that no matter what love she had left for him and no matter what future she thought they could have had together, such a life between them would never come to be, Adrien's heart belonged to someone else, and that someone was Marinette.

[nerdyjournals]

SCORPIUS

Genre: mystery Y/N Notes: they/them, female presenting Ship: REVEALED IN THIS CHAPTER

MAN WANTED FOR THE SUSPECTED MURDER AND DISAPPEARANCE OF TWO JYP UNIVERSITY STUDENTS

Two hours ago, police released information regarding the ongoing case of the body found in the Han River earlier today as well as the disappearance of her friend.

The man in question is connected to a fatal shoot out that took place seven years ago that took the lives of three people, including local Detective Kim Jonghyun.

When reaching out to the family of the late detective, they revealed that the suspected identity of the body is their younger cousin. This case is suspected to be treated as a homicide case moving forward.

The autopsy of the body is currently underway and we hope to uncover the identity of the body soon.

If you have any information regarding the suspect, please contact your local authorities.

-

The TV clicked off as you leaned back in the hospital bed.

"Is this really going to work, Minho?" You looked over at your friend, sighing as he sunk in the uncomfortable hospital chair.

"It has to. The guys have already gotten to the detectives and are plotting what to do next." He looked over at you. "I know that look. Speak."

"Maybe we should call it." Minho shot up and reached for your hand. You flinched but let him take hold. "Too much is happening because of me, and you already got hurt." Your eyes drifted over to the small spattering of belongings, finding the little charm that matched with two others. "I don't want anyone else getting hurt."

"Hey, look at me." He tilted your head towards him, eyes drifting to the charm around his neck. "We already told you that we're in this for the long run. No matter what." His hand gripped yours tight as his phone began to ring. "Are you up for another visitor?"

"Is it him?" Minho nodded. "Go get him please."

-

Jisung rocked on his heels as he stood in the hospital waiting room. Jinki dropped him off before he went off to help set up the con with the others.

"Jisung," Minho's voice caught his attention, "you have your pass?" The boy nodded. "Come on. She wants to see you."

Minho gently took his hand and took him down the hall. Jisung felt his chest clench at the sight of you on the hospital bed. You held out your arms and he rushed into them, gently holding you and sighing into the crook of your neck.

"I'm okay, baby," you whispered into his ear. "Minho saved me. Our hero, right?"

"I thought you were gone." He slowly began to rock you back and forth. "I thought Minho was gone." The other boy sat on the other side of the bed, laying one hand on your shoulder. "My heart hurt so bad."

"It would take a lot more than a couple bumps and bruises and broken bones to get rid of me." You chuckled. "Besides, we still have to tell the others about us." You pulled back and pressed your lips to his forehead as Minho leaned his head against yours. "I love you both too much to let this go unsaid."

They all pulled away from each other and settled into the silence.

"Why is he after you?" Jisung asked.

"My cousin killed his brother in a shootout months ago. He wants revenge on those who killed him." You started to run your fingers of the back of his hand. "I'm just thankful it's only one and not any of the others."

"What would getting rid of you do?"

"Fulfill his need for revenge? I don't know." You turned to Minho. "How's the case building?"

"We have enough to get him on attempted first degree murder, but with his brother's connection they may be able to dig up more. Possible sentence, life in prison. Best sentence, the death penalty."

The other two looked a bit uneasy at how gleeful Minho looked at the last sentence.

"You're lucky we love you or we'd put you in an asylum," Jisung laughed.

"So what's the next move?" You asked. "Minho mentioned something about a con?"

-

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[meetinginsamarra]

mayprompts2024 #10, choice

Read parts 1-8 on AO3 here

++++++

The Perfect Place - Part Nine

They kept leaning against the shop’s brick wall, long after their laughter had ebbed off. A comfortable silence had ensued as each of them had become lost in thoughts.

Sherlock glanced sideways at John, watching him staring into space with a blissful expression on his face. The sight made him happy and full of hope that John might come with him to the flat. He further hoped that John would be so impressed with 221b that he would also move in as Sherlock’s flatmate (and loving boyfriend, of course).

In his mind, John was miles away from London. He reminisced his time in Afghanistan, being an army doctor and a soldier and how he had missed this life terribly after being invalided out. Every day there had been full of excitement and danger, he had done important work and had been needed to save limbs and lives. He had been respected, had lots of comrades and his life had been full of options.

When he had returned to London, everything was the exact opposite. No perspective for the future, no money, no job, an invalid with a dodgy leg and a trembling hand and no friends. Taking on the position and a bed shop assistant had been an act of sheer desperation and also mirrored the exact opposite to his work back in Ahghanistan.

And now, this Sherlock Holmes who wanted to buy a boxspring bed had turned John’s stagnant and depressing life upside down and John loved every minute of it. He could not recall a time when he had had so much fun.

John sighed and wished this moment would never pass.

“Do you plan on actually putting this bed into your flat?” John asked.

"Yes, of course. I really need one and also, it’s a very comfortable bed.” Sherlock grinned. “I bought it, remember?”

“For your second bedroom.”

“For the main bedroom. There is a second one, but it is unused. The main bed is terrible, the mattress would cause any orthopaedist nightmares and it’s too short for me either.  It’s still from Victorian times like most of the flat’s furniture. But it will be a lovely flat, once everything is sorted.”

(Sherlock meant once when all of the bits and bobs and odds and ends he had scattered everywhere had been sorted. Preferably by some benign person who liked tidying up.)

John hummed. “Ah, so you’re only about to move in?”

“Yes, I’ve helped the landlady and she gives me a discount on the rent.”

John looked sharply at Sherlock. “You intimidated her, too?”

“I did not intimidate Bernie.” Sherlock protested. But John kept staring at him until he relented. “Okay, I did. Whereas Mrs Hudson’s discount has been made out of genuine gratitude.”

“Where is it?”

“221b Baker Street.”

“Oh, wow, central London.” John thought of his miserable bedsit he could afford just so. “Must still be expensive even with a discount.”

Sherlock seized the opportunity. “Well, actually, you’re correct. Therefore, I have been looking for a flatmate.”

“Oh.” John’s face fell, clearly disappointed. “Who’s the lucky guy?”

High time for the next step, Sherlock! His brain egged him on, finally invite John to see the flat!

“Erm, no one, so far.” Pretending to be non-chalant and not caring much about John’s answer, Sherlock continued, “Would you like to have a look? After all, you promised to take care of the Feng Shui energy, didn’t you?”

“No, I absolutely did not”, John chuckled, “you only made that up to give Bernie a heart attack.”

“But you’re interested in seeing it, yes?”

“I’m wondering why you haven’t already found a flatmate. I mean it sounds like a great place so where is the catch? Noisy neighbours? Nosey landlady? Cockroaches? Leaky plumbing?”

“If you choose to come with me, you might find out.”

Since Sherlock made it sound like a dare, John took the bait at once. “Lead the way then.”

(John had the impression that he made a deliberate choice to follow Sherlock this day, when, in fact, John would never have any choice at all regarding Sherlock.)

+++++

tagging some people @calaisreno @totallysilvergirl @lisbeth-kk @peanitbear @raina-at

[elliebyrrdwrites]

Dramione Blurb 2.5

The Time Turner

Once upon a time, there was a boy who loved a blah blah blah.

The book snapped shut and was thrown across the room, landing beside the latest copy of the Daily Prophet. On it was a moving picture, a reel that repeated over and over and over.

Draco sneered at the paper, eyeing the boy who loved the girl who didn’t look like a girl anymore. The boy didn’t always love the girl. He was intimidated by the her. She was a full of knowledge and heart that was uncanny. The boy was lucky that she had fallen for him.

She had, somehow, been blind to how much he loathed the way she saw the world. The way she was able to pick it apart and piece it all back together. She could manipulate stories and she would show the world, and the people would ooh and aah and say, of course, what a wonderful story!

And all it took was a mere glimpse from her. And she would pierce through all of the bullshit and manage to create something new and beautiful.

So why, then, hadn’t she seen through the bullshit that was the man she had chosen to marry? Why had she said yes to the boy who hated her. The boy who coveted keeping her all to himself, determined to tamper the light that was so fucking brilliant, he should have been blinded!

Draco paced the length of the parlor room. He retraced the space that had once held the girl. Had held her crying bleeding body while this boy had done nothing. Which really doesn’t make him any better than the boy who had won her heart.

But still! Draco was fraught with unreleased tension. With regrets and indecision.

Draco Malfoy was in a bad place.

Which is what might had led him to seek out that Time Turner his father had stolen once upon a time and hidden in the back of his study. Behind a spelled book case that would only reveal itself to the lord of the manor.

Which, with his father now in prison, was him.

And so, it was with little regard and a lot of Fire Whiskey, that Draco tore from the cursed parlor and down the long hallway that would inevitably lead him into his father old study.

He remembered when his father had brought it home. Draco was six years old at the time, having no idea that his life would come down something as mundane as blood. Which every single person possesses. Blood was plenty! In the Muggle world, they had types of blood like O and A and B or C. He really didn’t know what or how they labeled a persons blood. All he knew is that they used it to save lives, not determine if it allowed a person to be hunted by a dark lord or not.

Little Draco, who knew nothing of blood status and wouldn’t until he was eight years old, watched as his father presented it to him. Like a bit of show and tell his class would sometimes do on Fridays. He held it in the palm of his hand, and pivoted it back and forth.

“Look at this, Draco.” His father said, his voice eerily quiet. “This is going to bring our family luck one day. One day, we might need to use it. But until then,” His father cleared his throat and turned to the book case behind his desk. Draco watched in awe as he reached out to place it into the book case. Only it didn’t appear on a shelf. It disappeared and Draco had been amazed. How wonderful and powerful his clever father was.

The nerve of the youth and their ignorance.

But now that he was Lord of Malfoy Manor, he could see it. The glamor of the book case wilted away and in it’s place sat a different kind of shelf. It held at least two dozen little intricate items. Urns and orbs. Jewelry that looked like it had oxidized and wooden crosses. Pearls that were silver and black. Candles that Draco wasn’t entirely sure about. Probably cursed to summon a demon when lit, he thought, just before his eyes fell on the Time Turner.

It sat just between an old wooden shoe — whatever the hell that was — and a painting of an old house by the sea. It was all rather odd but it wasn’t important.

He reached out for the Time Turner.

And hesitated.

What would he actually do, if he went back in time? Would he save Granger from being tortured? If he did, would she have been able to aide Potter in his victory against Voldemort?

If not, that would be...disastrous to say the least.

He paused and looked at the door to the study. Beyond it was the hall that led back to the parlor.

Where he had thrown the book.

It was a book somebody had written about Ronald Weasley after the victory of the battle. A book that was written using interviews from him, his friends, acquaintances. They hadn’t interviewed Draco, of course. Not hat he would have agreed.

But if he could, somehow, go back in time and stop her from going back with Weasley. Stop her from agreeing to be his fucking wife! he had to try.

And so, with only a hint of apprehension, Draco put the chain over his head and rushing through the calculations in his head, he quickly did the math that would cause him to turn the dial several times. Giving him, he assumed, the opportunity to best win her over. To make her his.

Draco finished turning the hourglass and watched as days and months passed.

He felt dizzy, watching it all morph with elapsed time.

When everything settled and he found himself in the same quiet house, Draco took off. Tucking the Time Turner into his shirt, he stepped through the Floo and stepped directly into a home he didn’t belong in.

A home that belonged to the only Pureblood family who wanted nothing to do with Draco Malfoy.

[sotwk]

I just read "A stab to the heart", and first of all, I loved it, just... perfect! The way the Thranduil is so worried for her and he can sense when she wakes up is just way too good for me!

Honestly, the last line of the fic: "We saw ada frightened" just hit me so deep that I had to come here. So, I didn't check to see if you have already written about this in the headcannons masterlist (and I'm sorry if you did and I haven't noticed!) but how do you think that Thranduil and their kids reacted when she died? Like, how their feelings and thoughts after this? I've always assumed Thranduil being an extremely good father, so I can't truly imagine him being mean to any of their kids, but how do you think that they (specially Thranduil) took the news that their queen had died?

Eeek! What lovely feedback and an even lovelier fic-related question! (I am so lucky and grateful to get such nice Anons in my inbox; I am spoiled.)

A Stab to the Heart (Fic Link)

Part 2 of this 2-part fic is over 50% written, but has been stalled in the basement of my brain for over six months now (yikes)! Hopefully I can shove it back into motion soon!

In regards to Thranduil being so in-tune with his wife that their minds are practically in a constant state of ósanwë (Elvish mind-link), I would like to point out a few key details about their relationship:

"A Stab to the Heart" takes place in Third Age 1012. By this time, Thranduil and Maereth have already been married for 1,188 years and have been mutually in love for an additional 1,700. And ever since they married, they were hardly ever parted for any significant amount of time (as opposed to most other Elven couples, like Celeborn and Galadriel, who would live apart for years). Needless to say, you would be hard-pressed to find a couple more tightly, lovingly bonded then the Elvenking and Elvenqueen were to each other.

THEIR ROMANTIC HISTORY: (Link to related HCs HERE) It took Thranduil about 50 years of sporadic meetings to realize he was falling in love with Maereth. However, he knew his father would loathe the idea of his son pairing off with a Noldor (much less one descended from Fëanor) and it would have great repercussions on their kingdom, so Thranduil tried to ignore his growing feelings and sought to maintain just a friendship with her.

Maereth nearly died in the Sacking of Eregion, and Thranduil had been there to witness it; he had held her while she was gravely injured and felt the terror of her slipping away from him. Ultimately, she was saved by the healing of Elrond, but this experience left a permanent mark on Thranduil. From that day on, he found the only thing that ever scared him in his life: losing Maereth to the Halls of Mandos.

What do you do when you realize you love someone so much you cannot live without them? You ask them to marry you, of course! And so Thranduil did, but it took another thousand years of determined courtship to get Maereth to say "yes".

The Aftermath of the Elvenqueen's Death

I have yet to fully write the story of this terrible tragedy (I'm intimidated by it, to be honest), but a version of it was written, including the immediate aftermath, in my Thorin-centric fic, "The Broken Shield", where Maereth died during the War of the Dwarves and Orcs. I wrote out more details of her death in this headcanon post.

As for the reactions of the family (those who were left, anyway)?

OH BOY.

(SPOILERS to the SotWK AU, if anyone cares about that sort of thing, under the cut. Also, it gets pretty sad, so I apologize for the emotions this story may cause.)

Thranduil very nearly died from heartbreak. This was the darkest point in Mirkwood's history, the kingdom that had already been fighting off spiders, orcs, dark creatures, and poisons for centuries. All that was nothing compared to the realm's grief over their Elvenqueen's death, and fearing the likelihood their beloved Elvenking would either die from heartbreak, or finally leave them for the Undying Lands.

Note that by the time the Elvenqueen died, Thranduil had already lost three out of five of his sons. Only Gelir and Legolas remained, though he also had his daughter-in-law, Itarildë (Mirion's widow) and two grandchildren, Crown Prince Aranion (heir to the throne) and Princess Anariel.

Upon his return home to Mirkwood to bury the Elvenqueen's body, Thranduil was uncharacteristically cold and seemingly emotionless. He turned into stone (metaphorically) as a way of holding himself together, for the sake of the people who depended on him. He did not have strength left to properly comfort his family, and could only parrot the kingdom's motto, telling them they "will endure".

Gelir, the most impulsive of the Thranduilions (and second to Turhir as the most hot-tempered), lashed out in vengeful rage. Legolas just barely convinced him not to immediately ride out to seek revenge against the Orcs.

However, about three years after the Elvenqueen was laid to rest, Gelir once again tried to convince his father to allow him and Legolas to lead their armies to rejoin the Dwarves (Thrain's people) in their war against the orcs. Thranduil refused, and instead decreed that all travel to other realms was forbidden while the Dwarves fought their war.

Frustrated by this (and still grieving his mother), Gelir finally broke down and rebelled openly against the Elvenking. He attempted to leave Mirkwood on his own, only to be chased down by his father and dragged back to the Halls in chains, where he was thrown in prison.

Does this sound harsh? I take a pause in this dramatic tale to point out that Thranduil was a very, VERY good father to his sons all their lives. The Princes were over 2,000 years old by the time their mother died; not only were they adults, but they were wise enough to know that they were not exempt from their kingdom's laws, and should understand the grief their father carried from all these terrible losses. Not only did Thranduil need to demonstrate the strength of his authority, but he also refused to risk the death of another family member, even if it meant imprisoning his own child.

After the war ended in TA 2799, Gelir was finally released from prison, after being held there for 3 years. But instead of making peace with his father and submitting to the King's decrees, he openly criticized Mirkwood's isolationist policies, which had become even stricter after the Elvenqueen's death.

Legolas, caught between the two dearest people in the world to him, could not get them to reconcile their differences.

After another year of strife between father and son, Thranduil gave Gelir an ultimatum: reaffirm his fealty to the Elvenking and his laws, or be banished from the kingdom. Gelir, believing his home had become a "cage" that he refused to be locked in, chose banishment.

Gelir asked his brother to come with him, forcing Legolas to choose sides by staying with Thranduil. He remembered a prophetic plea his mother once made to him many years before her death: "above all, choose your father". His decision was also influenced by the special closeness he had with Thranduil.

Thus, Gelir left the kingdom in the winter of TA 2800, and cut off all contact with his family. Legolas was the only Thranduilion left.

For a century (TA 2800-2900), Thranduil struggled against his personal demons of anger and grief and longing to be with his beloved wife again. In spite of his depression however, he continued to govern his people effectively, but only with the help and loyalty of Legolas and his devoted daughter-in-law and grandchildren. (Note: SotWK AU does NOT accept the coldness and rift between Legolas and Thranduil as shown in the film adaptation. Legolas ultimately proves to be Thranduil's most steadfast son. The conflict between Tauriel and Thranduil, and her romance with Legolas, do not occur in SotWK either.)

In TA 2850, when Gandalf uncovered Sauron's identity as the Necromancer--something Thranduil had suspected for centuries, but his reports went unheeded--the Elvenking slowly began to return to himself, remembering the hard battle that still needed to be fought to protect his kingdom.

In TA 2911, Thranduil even began to loosen the restrictions against traveling outside of Mirkwood, when he allowed Itarildë and Anariel to join Gandalf in giving aid to the Hobbits of the Shire during the Fell Winter, just as their family had done previously during the Long Winter (TA 2758).

By the time Thorin and his Company arrived at Mirkwood in TA 2941, the remnants of the royal house of Thranduil were back in fighting form, although the Elvenking would always carry a longing for his wife that would not be healed until their reunion in Aman over a century into the Fourth Age.

For more Thranduil/Mirkwood headcanons: SotWK HC Masterlist

Elves HC Tag List: @a-world-of-whimsy-5 @achromaticerebus @aduialel @asianbutnotjapanese @auttumnsayshi @blueberryrock @conversacomsmaug @elan-ho-detto-elan-15 @entishramblings @freshalmondpandadonut @friendofthefellowshipsnerdblog @glassgulls @heranintomyknife23times @ladyweaslette @laneynoir @lathalea @lemonivall @LiliDurin @quickslvxrr @ratsys @scyllas-revenge @stormchaser819 @talkdifferently6 @tamryniel @tamurilofrivendell

Other useful links:

Introduction to SotWK

Fanfiction Masterlist

Fanfiction Request Guidelines

[matan4il]

Eddie and baby trapping

Okay, so I remember when 505 aired, I made a joke in my weekly meta about Eddie smugly looking at Buck and saying, “you’re stuck with us,” because he KNEW his baby daddy wasn’t going anywhere. I think it was about a day or so after I posted that meta, I saw the joke about Eddie baby trapping Buck in reference to that same scene for the first time, and I laughed and thought it really says something if so many people understood the scene in more or less the same way.

Some time ago, I was talking to @toughpaperround about an old TV show I love (it finished airing before my parents even met, which is why it kinda feels redundant to name it, I’m just “lucky” to live in a country where, when I was a kid, they used to air old shows during the day). I got all nostalgic and ended up looking for it online. Turns out that as a kid, I only caught the second part of the show. So guess what? I knew back then that The Hero was raising a kid on his own after he lost the kid’s mother. What I didn’t know at the time was that the kid wasn’t The Hero’s biological son. And I’m actually kind of even more in love with the fact that he raised that boy so much as his own that I had no idea they weren’t blood related. However, seeing the first part of the show made it clear that The Hero WAS, in fact, baby trapped.

The shortest version of the story is that there’s a great disaster, The Hero is sent to save and get out as many people as possible, which happens to include this very beautiful woman (and she’s also kind of famous in that reality, I think) and her son. After everyone’s been rescued and goes on with life, the mom finds The Hero and tells him her son has been distraught since he lost his dog in the disaster. She said with how The Hero treated him while saving everyone, she’s sure The Hero is good with kids, and she needs his help with hers. Mind you, she’s the actual parent, The Hero is single, has no kids, is not a professional who is trained to help or has any kid experience in any way, is very handsome and brave, saved everyone, won a medal, and looks damn good in a uniform. Did I mention he’s very pretty? And as a guy who regularly puts his life on the line to save others, he’s also clearly someone who’s not gonna say no to people asking for help. Especially not when it comes to a kid. Long story short, he helps the kid, the boy expresses a wish by the end of this story arc for The Hero to be his dad, Hero and mom get married, she dies shortly after, Hero’s left emotionally scarred, I skipped to the second part of the show.

Because watching the first part, I was like... “Oh, she baby trapped him for real. Not as a funny joke fans tell.” And I came to realize, I quite detest when shows do that. When they’re too lazy to work on building a real connection between two characters, so they shove a damsel in distress with a kid into the path of a Good Guy, and the initial, deeper bond is between the guy and the kid. The damsel sort of... comes with the package of wanting to be the kid’s actual dad and all sorts of family feels that muddy the water.

And the beautiful thing about Buddifer is, that's NOT their story. During 201, when Eddie is trying to get into Buck’s good graces? He clearly never even thinks of bringing up Chris and using him like that. In 202, when Buck asks about the phone call, Eddie is hesitant when it comes to telling him about Chris and showing Buck his photo. We never see Eddie explicitly asking Buck for anything regarding his son, he never tries to dump a part of his parental responsibility on someone who isn’t a professional in a relevant field.

It’s Buck who in 202 chooses to go on consoling Eddie with why Chris is actually real safe, in 203 it’s Buck who chooses to right away alert Eddie that cellphone reception is back, in 204 Eddie still never asks Buck for help (presumably indicating that he also didn’t ask for any at the end of 203, it must have been Buck who offered to drive Eddie to Christopher’s school) and so it’s Buck who smooths things over with Bobby before any problems might arise, and it’s Buck who’s thinking about how to help Eddie when talking to Maddie, and it’s Buck who decides to set up the connection with Carla.

I just need to say how much I love Buck for being that person, not just the man who feels compelled to help when asked to because he’s a Good Guy, but the person who is sincerely interested, and who for real falls in love with Chris as well as with the way that Eddie loves his son. See, when they reach the school at the end of 203? It’s very evident that Eddie isn’t thinking about Buck for a second when he runs in to hug Chris. He’s not concerned about what anyone else might think, their hug is the most genuine expression of love, and relief and their strong, beautiful bond. And Buck just sits in the car with the biggest case of heart eyes ever observed on any TV screen.

And I also love Eddie for being that person, who can accept help when it comes to Chris (help for himself is a different matter) from professionals, but isn’t looking to dump his burden on others. He won’t actually baby trap anyone into helping him or being his friend or involved more than they actually want to be. He’s the man who hesitates before he shows his son’s picture to a relative stranger, because that’s a part of being a protective parent as well, but he’s not closed off to the point of being suspicious and rejecting Buck’s wish to be there and step into the mess with them. Eddie somehow manages to find just the right balance between not dragging Buck into Christopher’s life more than what Buck might be comfortable with, and yet not shutting off his new friend either. That’s not easy in this sensitive situation, especially for a man like Eddie, who has never had a good role model in terms of how to let people in and accept the right amount of help, how not to become extreme in either direction.

I still think the joke is hilarious! But if we’re being serious, I believe a part of Buddifer’s magic is that there was no baby trapping. They really chose each other and became a real family. The show took its time investing in them and building them up as a family. It’s at least a part of why I personally love them so much!

~ ~ Thank you so much to the wonderful @buckleyirondad for helping me with the gorgeous gifs for this meta! You’re a star! xoxox

[zalrb]

Hey! so what did you think about Claire on the bear? I've seen some people call her a mary sue, a mpdg, a pick me which feels a bit much to me lol. I generally agree w people who say that she wasn't fleshed out and felt out of place bc of how carmy viewed her. My only thing is she never felt like an ER Doctor. Her career was supposed to be equally demanding so it should've affected their relationship in some small way at least but she kinda just seemed available for him at any given moment.

One of them I can see an argument for, the other two no. So before I get into the one I can see an argument for, I really need people to understand that these terms actually mean something. They're not blanket descriptors for female characters who annoy you and while we're at it, just for initiumseries, I'm going to add for the record that there aren't male versions of pick mes and manic pixie dream girls because these stock characters (or in the case of a pick me, viewpoints,) are rooted in misogyny

A Pick Me is specific

A Mary Sue is specific

Mary Sue stories—the adventures of the youngest and smartest ever person to graduate from the academy and ever get a commission at such a tender age. Usually characterized by unprecedented skill in everything from art to zoology, including karate and arm-wrestling [...] She saves the day by her wit and ability, and, if we are lucky, has the good grace to die at the end [...]

Like even Nathan Rabin who coined the term MPDG apologized for doing so because it keeps being misused:

I feel deeply weird, if not downright ashamed, at having created a cliché that has been trotted out again and again in an infinite Internet feedback loop. I understand how someone could read the A.V. Club list of Manic Pixie Dream Girls and be offended by the assertion that a character they deeply love and have an enduring affection for, whether it’s Diane Keaton’s Annie Hall or Katharine Hepburn in “Bringing Up Baby,” is nothing more than a representation of a sexist trope or some sad dude’s regressive fantasy.

It doesn't make sense that a character as nuanced and unforgettable as Annie Hall could exist solely to cheer up Alvy Singer. As Kazan has noted, Allen based a lot of Annie Hall on Diane Keaton, who, as far as I know, is a real person and not a ridiculous male fantasy.

From what I can recall, nothing about Claire is "Pick-Meish" or "Mary Sueish", she explains that when they were kids and a girl broke her arm, everyone was freaked out except for her because she wanted to understand the injury, that is not Pick Me-ish.

This is Claire

not this

The fact that she has six months left on her residency doesn't make her a Mary Sue.

Now with regards to being an MPDG, these are the characteristics of one:

That day in 2007, I remember watching "Elizabethtown" and being distracted by the preposterousness of its heroine, Claire. Dunst's psychotically bubbly stewardess seemed to belong in some magical, otherworldly realm -- hence the "pixie" -- offering up her phone number to strangers and drawing whimsical maps to help her man find his way. And as Dunst cavorted across the screen, I thought also of Natalie Portman in "Garden State," a similarly carefree nymphet who is the accessory to Zach Braff's character development. It's an archetype, I realized, that taps into a particular male fantasy: of being saved from depression and ennui by a fantasy woman who sweeps in like a glittery breeze to save you from yourself, then disappears once her work is done.

She isn't quite the "pixie" part of the trope, I don't think she's whimsical enough for that, instead I would say she's the "insufferable female lead in an indie" trope (love this!)

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because she does kind of just appear or sweep in to Carmy's life and has this history with him

and instead of giving Carmy her number, she asks for his, therefore the narrative places the onus of initial pursuit on her

she's been carrying this torch for him since they were kids

and her role is to be someone in his life that makes him feel good, that takes his feelings into consideration,

that gives him peace

that urges him out of his shell

that shows him another way he can be and feel outside of the restaurant

while we basically know nothing about her outside of that role.

What makes this iteration more complex than others is not Claire, it's not that she's a fully fleshed out character and we see more than a glimpse of her life and it's not that we get to know about her personally because we don't really, what we get is this

which just goes back round to Carmy and his complicated relationship with food and cooking anyway

the subversion lies with Carmy and how he needs to heal and still has a lot of unprocessed trauma that doesn't go away because Claire entered his life, the show shits all over the typical outcome of the MPDG coming into the male protagonist's life and making it all better.

I'm not saying that they did that purposefully as in they're trying to say something about MPDG, like I don't think the show purposefully framed her as one or views her as one, I think they just wanted to show how deep-rooted generational trauma is and how it presents itself and how it affects your current relationships and it ended up being subverting an MPDG-esque trope for the male protagonist.

I don't know if any of this makes sense, I haven't slept and it's like 5 AM lmao.

[lets-try-some-writing]

Please continue the Smokescreen story.

(Gore-tober Day 4 - Peaceful)

Will do!

Prompt here.

━━━━━━ ⊙ ❖ ⊙ ━━━━━━━━━━━━ ⊙ ❖ ⊙

“He won’t last at this rate.” Ratchet proclaimed as he hooked up the spark stabilizer to the Matrix. Optimus sat still on the medical berth, the container placed firmly on his lap as the connectors to his spark chamber and the relic within were attached to the delicate life fluttering within its glass confines.

“If we don’t get him a protoform, his spark will go out within the next three cycles.” The doctor sighed as he took scans and began the process of collecting Smokescreen’s memory from his processors. Arcee didn’t know much about medicine, but even she could tell that they were lucky to have even that much. Smokescreen’s frame was devastated, his limbs torn to shreds and his body contorted in ways it shouldn’t have been. She didn’t like looking at what remained of his face, it reminded her too much of Tailgate as he hung in Arachnid’s grip.

“Can he be carried by a surrogate to extend his predicted lifespan?” Optimus asked seriously as he ran his digits along the container, humming a soft tune as he did so. The Prime looked… sullen. Arcee couldn’t blame him. Smokescreen was young enough that saving his spark wasn’t impossible, but he was also likely too old to be carried for very long.

“Perhaps. But that is a last resort that I prefer we not fall to. Carrying the spark of a grown mech is-” Ratchet trailed off as he finished drilling connectors into what remained of Smokescreen’s processor. The team as a whole tensed as the implications hit them. Even Bulkhead seemed to know the ramifications of carrying a spark.

The only bots strong enough to carry a spark were Ratchet and Optimus. They had the right frame specs and their sparks were in the upper echelons signature wise. But Optimus carried the Matrix and Ratchet was older than what was safe for such a thing. Arcee would have offered her services, but she was far too small a bot to take care of a spark as bright as Smokescreen. There really was no other choice except to get the rookie a new frame if they didn’t want to risk Optimus accidentally killing him or Ratchet offlining as well in an attempt to support a spark aside from his own.

Her servos clenched into fists as she watched those gathered look between each other and the container sadly. Optimus’s optics cycled in on it as he brought it closer to himself, a song softly flowing from his vocalizer in an attempt to comfort the fragile life in his care. Bumblebee’s door wings dipped low as he placed a servo on the container as well, his field wrapping around those present in grief. Ratchet simply sighed and went about his work in silence while Bulkhead muttered a soft apology.

“You shouldn’t have had to do that newbie… I’m sorry it ended up this way.” Bulkhead leaned against the wall, his face in one of his servos while his other remained in a tight fist. Arcee for her part stared at all those present in disbelief and growing rage. Were they all just going to let him die? Were they going to lose another teammate because of the Decepticons?

“I will stay with him and do my best to ensure his passing is comfortable.” Optimus, seemingly having read her thoughts, spoke gently. His entire frame seemed to radiate grief, but he did not appear inclined to do anything aside from keep Smokescreen’s spark ablaze. Arcee wanted to scoff. What was the point of keeping his spark stable if he was just going to putter out?

She couldn’t allow that. Not again. She wouldn't lose another partner. 

“Do we still have the coordinates for the Nemesis?” She broke the solemn atmosphere as she stepped forward, her expression resolute. The team regarded her sadly, but Ratchet nodded all the same.

“We do. The Nemesis hasn’t gone far since Smokescreen…” The doctor bit his lower derma and stepped back to his console to continue his work. Bulkhead and Optimus were too occupied to pay her much attention, but Bumblebee seemed to perk up.

“You think… we might be able to get him a protoform in time?” Bumblebee’s question had those gathered finally paying Arcee the attention she needed. Her digits twitched and her spark blazed with determination. Starscream made clones of himself, there had to be more protoforms on the Nemesis being held in stasis. Arcee was the smallest, and she’d managed to get onto the ship before. If she could get on and grab just one protoform, they could save Smokescreen before it was too late.

“I’ve snuck onto the Nemesis before. I can and I will do it again.” She stared up at her fellows in defiance. She would not allow Smokescreen to die without at least trying to do something to save him.

“Cee, are you sure you can do that? Megatron must be on high alert after the Omega Keys.” Bulkhead put forward his concerns, but Arcee could sense hope in his words. He wanted to believe there was a chance, and looking around at the increasingly bright faces of the team, they wanted to believe it too.

“I can. Just let me try.” The team exchanged glances, silence overcoming the base until Optimus nodded once in assent.

“I give you permission to try. Ratchet, prepare the groundbridge.”

—----

Arcee ran as fast as her legs would allow her to as soon as she got through the portal. She had no real map of the Nemesis, but based on what she knew, the protoforms would be near the Vehicons quarters. A timer ticked on her wrist, a reminder of her limited time. They would lose the Nemesis’s coordinates within a half an hour. She had to be quick, and that meant stealth was largely out of the question.

“INTRUDER!” A Vehicon screamed as Arcee threw herself into her alternate mode and pushed her engine as hard as it would go. Her tires skidded across the ground as she pushed herself down every hall she could find in a desperate attempt to locate the protoforms she knew the Cons had. 

“SHOOT HER DOWN!” It might have been Knockout who gave the order. Arcee couldn’t be sure as she started to zigzag to dodge the fire of her enemies. The timer ticked on her arm, signaling she was running out of time as she continued her frantic search. A shot hit her back, forcing her to begin moving by pede somewhere around the fifteen minute mark. 

It burned, but she couldn’t afford to waste time returning fire. She kept moving, her every system screaming at her as she ran faster than she had ever done before. She was no racing unit, and her frame reminded her of it as she at last skidded into the section of the ship holding the protoforms. 

“Finally.” She panted as she looked up at the stasis locked protoforms. She stumbled back up and reached out to input the command needed to release one. A quick hack cut precious seconds off her timer, but before long the protoform dropped to the ground, lifeless but in pristine condition. She grit her denta as she hurried to it and pulled it along by its arm. She had underestimated how large it would be.

“You aren’t going anywhere, two wheeler.” A shot flew past her helm and Arcee stopped dead in her tracks as the slag maker himself stepped into the room with all the egotistical grace of his station. A frantic message to Ratchet had her counting down the seconds until the groundbridge would open and she could flee with her gains. Until then, she had to buy time.

“The gaurdsmech needs a new frame? I imagine his tumble from my ship did inflict substantial damage onto his pitiful body.” Megatron grinned, seemingly content to take his sweet time taunting Arcee as he moved forward. The Vehicons stepped back and Arcee dragged her gains close to herself. Her field flared in warning, but Megatron merely smiled wider.

“You Autobots must be quite desperate to send such a small bot to steal from me.” The warlord mused as he pointed his blaster at Arcee’s helm. She steeled herself, her frame in front of the protoform protectively. If all else failed, the team could retrieve the protoform over her dead body. 

“Go rust.” Arcee cursed as she readied her only free arm, her blaster lining up with Megatron’s. The warlord sneered, and Arcee prepared to be blasted into slag as the groundbridge bloomed behind her. 

“I’ve got you covered!” Bulkhead stepped through and blocked Megatron’s instinctual shot. The Decepticon leader roared in outrage as Bulkhead picked her and the protoform up and threw them both threw the bridge. She grunted as she hit the ground hard where the blaster shot hit, but she paid it no mind as Ratchet rushed forward and grabbed the protoform, not paying her a bit of attention. She didn’t begrudge him that as she stumbled to her pedes once more and closed the groundbridge behind Bulkhead as he entered. 

“Thanks for the help Bulk.” She smiled as the Wrecker tumbled in and rubbed his scorched plating. Evidently, he hadn’t escaped Megatron’s wrath unscathed. 

“Hold still! If you move he may become unstable!” Ratchet’s command echoed in the base and Arcee rushed over to watch as the medic carefully paid out the protoform and imputed the medical commands needed to open its empty spark chamber. Optimus for his part stood still as a statue, the connectors keeping him hooked up to the container holding Smokescreen’s spark glowing in response to his emotional state. 

“Come on Smokescreen, don’t reject the frame.” Ratchet pleaded as he lifted the container and ever so gently lowered it so that it hovered over the protoform’s spark chamber. Arcee could have heard a pin drop with how tense the base was as Ratchet unlocked the container. 

Not a spark said a word as they all watched in terrified but hopeful awe as Smokescreen’s spark fluttered from its container and was promptly caught in the protoform. The moment it was in place, Ratchet slammed the protoform’s spark chamber closed and stepped back. Optimus grabbed the container and Arcee moved closer to watch with rapt attention. This was it. This would decide Smokescreen’s fate. 

The air was tense enough to be cut with a knife as the protoform remained still for a worrying few kliks. But then, just as Arcee began to fear the worst, it began to shift. Protomatter began to alter, facial structures started to emerge, and within another klik, the base of Smokescreen’s old frame was easy to see. Bulkhead cheered, Arcee smiled and leaned on a nearby wall, relief flooding her spark as Ratchet praised the Allspark. Bumblebee, who had remained dutifully by Optimus the whole time, whirled in joy as Smokescreen’s vents fluttered and his systems hummed to life.

“He’s accepted the frame. He will be alright.” Optimus confirming their collective relief caused Arcee to smile wider. Smokescreen would live. He hadn’t been lost like Cliffjumper.

She’d done one thing right.

[surplus-of-sarcasm]

The 24th One

TW: Blood, guns, attempted murder, fear, pain, stitches, painful wound cleaning, emotional breakdown, threats, slightly flirtatious drama queen villain, male whumpee

"Take it easy," a firm, but somehow saccharine voice called out from Civilian's living room.

Treading lightly and letting out an involuntary sharp gasp, her gaze flitted over to a figure mostly hidden by the shadows, like a charcoal drawing, the first rays of the sun peeking through the sheer, half-open curtain outlining his edges.

"Who are you?" she questioned, going back into her room to fetch a gun from the safe.

She tiptoed into the room, fingers tightening on the weapon as she flicked off the safety.

Civilian was met with a soft, amused chuckle. "I thought the spandex would be telling," the man she now identified as Villain replied, practically slouching in her armchair like he owned the place.

Her breathing went shallower, and her face paled. The all-too-happy figure in a dark, form-fitting suit with heavily mussed up light brown hair lounging around in her living room was one of the city's most dangerous criminals. And she was all alone with him and a gun she barely used. She wished to curse the fact that she'd chosen to live somewhere quiet, right on the outskirts, closer to her job. It didn't seem all too convenient now, did it?

"I'm gonna need you to put that down, love," the villain crooned, voice gentle and silky, but the hint of warning in it wasn't lost on her, much like a rose with thorns scattered across its stalk in a subtle manner, but still not invisible to the keen eye.

"And why should I do that?" she challenged, strengthening her death grip on the gun, defiance ablaze in her eyes. She wished she was as brave as she might have looked.

Except that didn't matter because the criminal seemed entirely amused with the situation, raising an eyebrow and letting out a soft laugh, greyish blue eyes sparkling in the sunlight with mirth. "Ah, as much as I admire the courage, I'm not in the mood for any games, so put the gun down and don't even think about calling the police. Not that it would save you anyway," he growled. The playfulness was still there in his demeanour, but he didn't make an effort to mask the threatening air of his tone.

"I hope you don't think I'm joking," he drawled lazily, pulling out a gun of his own and training it on Civilian's face.

"No," she stage-whispered, trying to ignore the nausea washing over her and the tightness in her chest. She mentally cursed herself for not shooting him the second she'd recognised him.

But killing people was not like the movies. It isn't something you walk away from, something a good night's sleep, if you could even afford such a luxury, would help you forget. Only truly terrible people, like the villain in her armchair, she presumed, could treat murder as a mundane part of their daily routine, like how one regards brushing their teeth.

But now, she didn't hold an inkling of power on the crime lord because while the civilian might hesitate, might back out completely, he wouldn't.

And besides, he had goddamn superpowers at his disposal; he could create wind. She would have to be extremely lucky to get a hit on him, and that was never something she was willing to gamble over when it came to her life.

She pried for any weaknesses, anything to use against the villain, but all she saw was a calm, almost relaxed person and a deadly weapon in his merciless grip.

"You know I really didn't want to do this. In all honesty, it's been a while since I've seen a girl this cute," he supplied, and if she didn’t know better, Civilian would've sworn he actually sounded disappointed, "but I don't like having to repeat myself," he concluded, a slight downturn of his lip being the only indication of any negative emotion he may have felt, with nothing behind those cold, steel-coloured eyes.

He rose up from the chair, and panic gripped the civilian. Both of them shot and missed, except the villain cried out, letting out a sharp gasp as he fell to the floor, holding onto the chair's leg like a lifeline. His gun was hurled across the room with a loud clattering noise, far away from his grip. A nasty laceration across his his abdomen spurted out blood.

She wondered how he'd gotten hurt if no bullets had hit him, and when the sunlight moved further into the room, she noticed that he'd popped some poorly executed stitches with his sudden movements. He tried to use his powers to pull his gun closer but to no avail. The pathetic, little breeze he'd created could barely move a leaf. Apparently, his injury had affected his power tremendously.

For a moment there, Villain looked terrified. Frantically groping around for his gun, looking two seconds away from howling out in agony as he moved as fast as his injured body could handle. There were bruises on his face, no doubt from a previous fight, and his eyes were wide as saucers, his breathing laboured. He was now at Civilian's mercy, and he knew it. This was his end, no way around it. For a man the heroes said claimed to 'dance with death', he seemed incredibly frightened of it. For the first time that night, he looked unbearably human.

She didn't understand why some sort of misguided empathy had led her to crouch down to his level and ask, "Can you walk?"

"What?" he choked out, snapping his head up sharply at her. And as though the fear from before had never been, he clenched his jaw, contracted the muscles in his face to pull it into something stone-hard and expressionless, trying his hardest to pull his form up into a semi-standing position, holding onto the coffee table with a white-knuckled grip. He tried again for his powers, but they failed him once more. Still, she could see the hint of wariness in his eyes as his gaze trailed over to her gun.

She got up and threw it aside. "Goddamn it," she snarled, drawing in a sharp breath and exhaling slowly. Well, if she died for being foolhardy, at least it would be a noble death. However, she'd made sure to keep both guns in her room. No more chances.

The villain's eyes widened again, not out of fear, but out of shock, clearly not being used to any displays of kindness. She walked over to him, letting him put his arm around her shoulders, struggling to shoulder his weight. He was incredibly tall, lean muscles outlined by his suit. The civilian finally managed to get him over to the couch. "I'm a med school student, final year," she supplied, and he let out an overly exaggerated sigh of relief.

She would've smirked, but she caught herself. Don't get too familiar. "Friendly reminder that I don't have any anaesthesia on hand right now."

He simply responded with a scoff, rolling his eyes at her.

"Alright tough guy, how would you rate your pain on a scale of one to ten?" she asked, looking for a needle, thread and some antiseptic.

"Seven," he answered coolly. It still surprised her how he managed to preserve his composure while wounded like this, no wincing or shivers. But she reminded herself again that he was not a normal person.

Civilian unzipped the suit down to his abdomen, and the villain gave her an unbearably cocky grin, somehow managing to do that with blood snaking down from the ugly laceration on his body.

"Don't flatter yourself," she scolded, and she didn't understand why she'd said that, as though they were old friends used to exchanges full of banter. The civilian wondered if she'd become so secluded and terribly lonely that human interaction with anyone seemed appealing to her.

"Don't flatter me yourself with those eyes, love- ahggg!" The velvety tone and the lazy, half-lidded gaze were swiftly replaced with a sharp hiss as the villain squeezed his eyes shut, contracting and relaxing his muscles rhythmically to distract himself from the agonising sensation of the alcohol seeping into his wound, leaving his skin feeling like it was on fire.

"Easy, it'll be over soon," Civilian soothed awkwardly, unable to conceal the pang of sympathy she felt for him right now.

"Don't coddle me," he snapped, clearly more concerned with his wounded ego above anything else. Even beneath the smug smiles and stoicism, he clearly loathed the vulnerability. He hadn't been afraid of dying, she realised; he was afraid of dying in such a humiliating state.

Tragically poetic how he had the words 'Pride is my sin' tattooed on his right arm in all capitals, dark ink and a stylish font.

The civilian got him through the stitches, years of intensive studying and practice overriding her nervousness, stopping her hands from shaking the way they desperately wished to. Villain barely shivered or flinched during the process, and while he raised a sceptical eyebrow at her when she offered him a glass of water and painkillers, he swallowed them readily.

She washed her hands and threw him an icepack for the swollen bruises.

"I'm going to get ready for bed, and you should be uh, fine here," she supplied, gesturing to the couch with one hand as she zipped up the criminal's suit with the other.

"I guess this means I owe you a favour," he stated bluntly, a thoughtful, enigmatic look in his steely eyes.

"What?"

"I'm a crime lord, but that doesn't mean I'm a complete bastard," he reasoned, "you didn't kill me even when you had the chance. It's only fair."

"Why would I need a favour from you of all people?" She raised an eyebrow at him, moving a strand of ash blonde, wavy hair away from her eyes.

"In this city, you'll never know when you might need a favour from a guy like me. Anyway, take care of yourself, love." He sounded genuinely concerned, and the civilian hated it, so she awkwardly nodded at him.

When she got into the shower, finally away from the villain, her emotions came crashing down on her shoulders like solid rock. Her brave face in front of the villain had been a facade. She was terrified, incredibly guilty, all of the worst outcomes tormenting her mind in flurries of terrible thoughts. Try as she might, she couldn't stop the tears from streaming down her face. There was no going back now.

Civilian may have preferred to stay awake after sunrise, but she was too exhausted. Or actually, she wished to escape her hellish thoughts, and this was the fastest and easiest way to free herself from her shackles.

We all dream of being kind, of offering help to those in need, yet in an imperfect world, acts of kindness come with an expensive price, one not everyone is willing to pay. This hour's enemy is the next hour's victim, today's proud and cruel are tomorrow's weak and defenceless. But the beautiful irony of life is that no matter how far one runs away from it, vulnerability is a destined fate, written in stone, an unavoidable risk. It is the one thing in a person's nature that marks a human being as such.

Almost forgot, tagging for comfort fics: @roblingoblin285

✨️Le Taglist: @larinzz @syberianjade @lateuplight @altu-interactions @enbious-prince @astr0-mj @thelazywitchphotographer @a-fucking-simp-00 @addictedsandwhichaki @justalittlecorrupted @quaggasus @theangstyclown @vernilliom @mothmancommitsarson @starssabove @kurai-hono-blog @talkingsperm @muffinrebel44 @sunnynwanda @annablogsposts @cardboardarsonist @itsmyworld23 @onlywhump @shr3ya @crotchgoblin69 @wtfevenisausername @pendarling @avloki-pal

Wanna be on the taglist? This'll take you there!

[kumeko]

A/N: For the @violeteverzine! I wanted to dig a little more into Clara’s story, it was so heartbreaking and I love the idea of leaving letters for the future, for those who miss you to help ease their pain and tell them all the things you’ll never have the time to.

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By the eight letter, Clara Magnolia’s voice faltered. It surprised her, a little, that she had managed to make it so far, that her aching body had carried her voice for as long as it had. When she’d first paid for this commission, she’d been afraid. There was so much she wanted to say and so little time to do it. Even now, they still had six days to go and yet another forty letters to dictate.

And her body would only get worse with time. Fortunately, her daughter Ann wasn’t peeking inside the window like she usually did—seeing Clara like this would have only made her worry. There was no time to reassure her.

As she rubbed her throat, her companion looked up from her typewriter and impassively regarded her.  Even for a Doll, there was something remarkably doll-like about Violet Evergarden, from her soft blonde hair to her distant blue-green eyes. Her delicate prosthetic fingers gleamed silver in the light as she paused. “Do you need a break?”

“A little,” Clara admitted ruefully, leaning back in her wicker chair. Bright green plants infused her sitting room with a show of life that she just didn’t feel. Picking up her tea, she wrinkled her nose as she sipped the now-cooled liquid. “I should have drank this earlier.”

“I can make you a new one,” Violet offered, her expression unchanged. It was hard to tell if she was asking out of concern or politeness.

“No, that’s fine.” Clara set down her tea once more. “Besides, I’m sure your fingers need to rest too. It must have been difficult, keeping up with my rambling thoughts.”

“No, that…that was fine.” An unreadable expression flickered across Violet’s face as she looked down at the stack of papers next to her. Her silver fingers lightly touched the sheets. “How many letters are you planning on writing?”

“As many as I can,” Clara answered honestly. With the condition her body was in, that was all she could promise. It had taken her time to save enough money to hire a Doll to write her letters, especially over the span of a week, and she knew she had to make the most of it. Even now, she could feel herself dying, her breath clawing its way out of her chest. “Forty, at least. Seventy, if I’m lucky.” She chuckled, her fingers gripping her chair tightly, the stray wicker cutting into her skin. “Forever, if I could.”

Violet tapped the paper again. Inquisitively, she asked, “Do you have a lot to say?”

Clara stared at Violet, surprised by the frankness of the question. After a moment, she laughed, a short bark that her father used to love. Another thing she had to add to the letter—the memories of a grandfather Ann would never meet. “I do. I think we all do, no matter what age we are. There’s always something more you want to tell the ones you love, always something else you need them to know.”

She picked up the closest envelope, its contents already sealed inside. Her fingers pressed against a coin stuck in the letter—it was a family tradition to give a silver coin on a child’s tenth birthday. One day, Ann would give it to her own daughter. “I’m just lucky I have a chance to put it all down on paper. Too many disappear or die without saying goodbye.”

Violet’s lips parted. Her head bowed slightly, her bangs hiding her eyes, but Clara had lived long enough to recognize a pained expression when she saw one. “It is hard,” Violet murmured, her fingers curling on her lap. “When they don’t say anything. When you can’t ask.”

Who are you thinking of? Clara almost asked, but the war was still fresh, and Violet’s prosthetics were obvious. Everyone lost someone in a hail of bullets and fire, in the bombs that had hung over their heads precariously. Even someone as young as Violet hadn’t been untouched by it all.

“It’s painful,” Clara agreed instead. She could almost see Ann in the teenager in front of her, hurt and alone. “I don’t think there is any way to stop that. There will always be unanswered questions. Unsaid things.”

Violet looked up, her expression calm once more. “Is that why you’re writing so many?”

It took Clara a moment to realize Violet was talking about the letters. She lowered her gaze to the letter in her hands, her fingers still pressed against the coin. “Partially.”

“Partially?” Violet cocked her head, perplexed.

“It might be a little vain of me,” Clara admitted, setting aside the letter as she picked up another. She could smell the flowers inside, the roses and sweet peas pressed to a page as a reminder of the greenhouse. By the time Ann got it, would she remember the other flowers that bloomed? Or would these pressings be the only survivors in her memory? “After I die, all Ann will have are her memories of me and these letters.  The memories will fade, but these letters…I hope they last. I hope she’ll have them for the years to come.”

“If…” Violet paused, hesitant. She brushed her hair behind her ear. “How do you know what to tell her?”

“I don’t,” Clara answered honestly. Death made her frank in ways her life hadn’t. “I’m trying to summarize my entire life and the life we could have had together. It’s hard to pick what to say. Anything I don’t…will be lost forever.”

Stories of her grandparents. Clara’s own memories. The way she spoke, the foods she made—even with the recipe cards she’d prepared for Ann’s eighteenth birthday, there would be so many more dishes abandoned to the stream of time. The only parts of their family, the only parts of Clara that would live on would be whatever Ann knew, whatever Ann shared.

“I suppose...I’m just picking the important things.”

Violet’s eyes widened. Her right hand clutched the green jewel pinned to her cravat. She wet her lips and breathed, “The important things?”

Clara smiled softly. “Anything that can give her my love. She’ll be lonely, but she won’t be alone.” She picked up another letter. This one had a ribbon inside, a gift for Ann’s fifteenth birthday. At that age, she’d probably have a crush or two. At that age, she’d need advice more than ever. Clara’s throat burned, filled with everything she’d never say. “I hope these words, these letters, will be there for her when I’m not.”

It was impossible, she was sure, to infuse her life into ink and parchment, to pour every ounce of her being into a hundred, even a thousand letters.

But she wanted to. She needed to.

Violet clenched her jaw, that unreadable expression back in her eyes. Her finger brushed the jewel once more. This time, when she spoke, it was with a quiet confidence. “They will be.”

It was a kind response, a polite answer, but something in Clara eased regardless. “Thank you.” Sitting up once more, she cleared her throat. “Shall we continue, then?”

“Of course.” Violet smiled briefly, her fingers already hovering over the typewriter.

Despite all that lay ahead, Clara knew her messages, her love would reach her daughter. Her gaze flickered to Violet’s pendant.

Hopefully, whoever Violet was thinking of, their messages, their love would reach Violet too.

Leaning back in her seat, Clara pictured her daughter as a bubbly, confident teenager, making the most of her gangly arms and confusing feelings. It was easy, so easy, to think about what she wanted to tell this future Ann.

“Dear Ann, happy sixteenth birthday! I’m sure you’ve gotten so big by now. Hopefully you’re taller than me. Sixteen is a special milestone, so I want to leave you something special in the envelope. It’s a pin your grandmother gave to me.”

Clara unclipped the pin on her chest, a bright, cheerful yellow pansy. Brushing its petals, she closed her eyes.

“Maybe one day, you’ll give it to your daughter and tell her stories about me.”

In her mind’s eye, she could see Ann grow, from sixteen to twenty to thirty, from child to woman to mother. At forty, her hair tied up in a bun and laugh lines showing her age as she pinned the pansy to her own daughter’s chest.

Ann looked up, her eyes still as bright as a child’s, and smiled at Clara. She mouthed, Message received.

She mouthed, I love you.

Clara opened her eyes, returning to the greenhouse and her letters. To the small Ann, still years from receiving the letter, still sullenly wondering what was happening. Violet looked at her expectantly.

She smiled. “Dear Ann, I know this is a scary time, full of changes, but everything will be okay.”