#since i quit my job to help move and also because it had become unbearable

[milkweedman]

It's really something to hear my sister talk about how much moving was a mistake. Given that she is the only one who wanted to move and it was supposed to decrease her commute which it did not at all, and also cost me my entire life savings and a semi functioning knee. Like wow. It was a mistake you say. That's crazy bro. If only someone had told you this multiple times and tried to talk you out of it. Fucking alas.

[misseligon]

HAPPY FIRST BIRTHDAY TO THE HELL TO PAY PILOT!!

God, a whole year just went by??? Doesn't feel real honestly... I didn't expect to jump from just 15 subscribers on youtube to 739 in just a year! A lot has happened over the year. I graduated from college and got my Bachelor's Degree, I got to see my mom's side of the family for the first time in my life. And my peepee brain was busy taking a half year hiatus whilst also hyper fixating on a lot of different crap.

I got to brainstorm more what I want for Hell to Pay. Ik you guys were asking for a full animated series but i'm gonna be honest here... the pilot was written and animated all by me, and I had my online and college friends help voice act the pilot for a final. I don't really intend to continue the series animated-wise because that requires a bigger team and a budget and I... don't have the latter.

I've always wanted to continue the story as a webcomic b/c I have an easier time getting the story out at a faster pace compared to another 40-minute animatic episode that'll take another half year to get done... and trust me if I continued at that pace I think Hell to Pay would be incomplete by the time I turn 80 years old and keel over.

Unfortunately for my little baby project's first birthday, I don't exactly have much to give here, since i've been extremely busy storyboarding and drawing concepts for the next episode. But for you guys I can give you the synopsis of the first 5-ish episodes!

BEGINNER'S GUIDE TO SUMMONING

In his second day in the afterlife, Profundus has to learn the ways of haunting in order to make a living not only from the three demons whom he met yesterday, but 10 more demons who Mollis brought in for extra help. Meeting new faces, witnessing more traumatic ways how to torture the living, Profundus finds out that being summoned by the living could bring him closer to finding his home universe and locate his wife Honey. But what happens if the first time he's summoned he gets trapped by a group of demon-worshipping college students?

CE N'EST PAS UN TRAVAIL

Profundus needs to find a job on top of his haunting duties in order to make a much more stable living, starting from rock bottom. After failing to find a suitable job from his "friends", he's offered a job as a still-life model from a self-proclaimed "Dadaist" named Clades. Upon hearing the demoness' name, Infortunii and co. warn of how infamous and dangerous Clades can be. Can Profundus quit his job on time before Clades and her followers lead Profundus into certain death?

PRISONER OF THE BODY

Attending classes on spells for newly deceased demons, Mollis teaches the easiest lesson for demons, possession. Concocting a plan to find a way into his universe and get a chance to speak to Honey one last time, Profundus plans to possess a mortal and meet up with Honey as said mortal. But plans go awry once Profundus accidentally kills the body of the man he was possessing and is trapped inside his body. Can the gang help pull Profundus out of this predicament?

BOX BITCH

Having no choice, Infortunii has to let an old acquaintance move in with her and Profundus after Box Bitch's landlord kicks them out (Fyi, their name is not actually Box Bitch, that's Infortunii's unaffectionate nickname for them). Times get tough when Box Bitch becomes an unbearable roommate and troubles both demons living under her roof, but tension rises once Box Bitch brings up that Infortunii used to be the life of a party, now she's a sanitized wet blanket, which easily ticks her off. What happened to Infortunii that soured her relationship with an old friend?

-SPOILER EPISODE, ONCE REVEALED POST BEGINNER'S GUIDE TO SUMMONING-

FALLEN

News riles up in the afterlife, an angel has been banished from Caelestia and has fallen down to Damnatio! Taken in by Mollis and into safety, the fallen angel introduces herself as Lapis. Seeing her as the closest thing to a holy being, Profundus tries to bond with Lapis, claiming both have common ground in this hellish afterlife. Selfish motives aside, could Profundus and co. help and protect a struggling Lapis adjust in the afterlife?

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

Hell to Pay as a series is planned to have 4 seasons/books. The first season/book is planned to have 33 chapters, idk how long it'll take to finish the first book, but a few years is definitely the most realistic expectation.

Thank you guys so much again for all your support and dedication! I'd like to thank all my friends and partners who made this whole project become a reality, and I hope to see you guys again soon! Check back on my tumblr for more future news about Hell to Pay! See you guys real soon!

<3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3

[i-love-an-alcoholic]

Story of M: How I became an addict, Part One

CONTENT WARNING: Alcohol and drug abuse

Edit: I want to add that alcohol withdrawal is potentially lethal and should NEVER be attempted without consulting a medical professional!

I began using alcohol as a coping mechanism at age 17. I was an outcast at school. My parents' marriage was nothing but a facade and my mother took her frustrations about their impending divorce out on me. I had very little hope for the future and being told I'd never amount to anything did not help. I had always dreamed of becoming a visual artist but felt I had no talent at all and I was doomed to fail at everything I tried. I had been diagnosed with depression at 14 and received counseling for it which was a positive, but as soon as the bi-weekly session was over I had to return to my regular life which was becoming more and more unbearable every day.

My parents didn't drink a lot, but we had a fairly well-stocked liquor cabinet full of souvenir bottles from my father's travels. "Nobody's going to drink these anyway", I thought and took some of the bottles and hid them in my closet. After my parents and sibling went to bed, I'd take a bottle and force its contents down my throat. My room was on the opposite side of our apartment from other bedrooms and it also had a convenient second bathroom right next to it, so when I had had too much I could throw up discreetly without waking them up.

I did this multiple times a week. My grades went down because I was groggy and hung over at school. One time I took a whole bottle of champagne and went outside to drink it. I was sitting on a park bench next to a playground, drinking straight from the bottle, all alone.

Legal drinking age is 18 where I live, and oddly enough, turning 18 slowed down my drinking. I didn't have to drink my parents' booze or hide my alcohol use any longer, but I had to buy it myself and store it in the fridge where my mother would see and comment about it. Things were pretty good for a while. I graduated from school with average grades, managed to get into a university and moved out at 19, at the same time my parents divorced.

I failed hard at uni. After two years, at 21, I changed schools into a more practical one, and for the first time in a long time, felt good about myself. I did well academically and was popular within our group. I even got a good friend, J. J was a party dude and we partied a lot, more than everybody else. Despite that everything was good for a year or so.

At the time I was in a relationship with a very troubled guy (I could go on forever about him, but I digress) who got into designer drugs and convinced me to try them too. To this day I have no idea what the stuff even was, but I believe it was a synthetic cannabinoid. I was sold. I took that stuff daily for several weeks, while neglecting my schoolwork. After that I would actively seek drugs in addition to binge drinking 2 to 3 times a week.

Despite this I managed to get my degree and landed a fairly well-paid job straigh out of school. I had to move cities for my job, but stayed in a long-distance relationship with the aforementioned troubled guy mainly because of his contacts. My job was at times very stressful, which I used to justify my binge drinking and occasional drug use. Work hard, party harder and so forth. I was around 26 when I began to notice negative side effects of binge drinking: I was overweight, bloated, irritable when sober and had scary hangovers. I tried to quit drinking, but found out I couldn't do it for more than a week.

Since I couldn't quit on my own, I went to see a doctor and asked for an Antabus (disulfiram) prescription which he happily gave to me. I know that Antabus does not work for everybody but it helped me immensely. At first everything was terrible, but after some weeks it got easier and easier until all the cravings were completely gone and I felt like a new person. All's well that ends well, right?

Wrong. To be continued.

[eijishimas]

midnight snack.

18+ nsfw content, minors dni. all characters are aged up.

masterlist.

content warnings: oral sex (f!receiving), penetrative sex, unprotected sex (use protection irl pls!), quirk use (electro stimulation), a hint of overstim, & a sprinkle of degradation. f!reader.

notes: all i could think about while writing this was “and they were roommates! ohmygod they were roommates.” also thank u bria ( @rekiri ) & sun ( @kiridarling ) for keeping me sane while writing this, ily both <3

wc: 3.0k

You rarely got hungry in the middle of the night. You usually went to bed full of food cooked by yourself or ordered takeout by your roommate, Denki. Tonight was different, however. You had been working on a project, one that was taking up far too much of your time due to your incompetent group members causing you to pick up the slack. You had been stressed beyond belief lately because of them. Maybe a small stretch would help clear your mind, you reasoned to yourself internally. While you were at it, a midnight snack wouldn’t be too bad. It would help ease your nerves, even. You stood from your desk, stretching your arms above your head and cracking the joints of your shoulders. Now exiting your room, you threw a glance across the hallway to see the light under your roommate’s door was still on. Of course he was staying up again, when did he not? Probably off playing video games with the guys again.

You yawned, bare feet pattering against the hardwood of your apartment floor on your way to the kitchen. You shivered, wearing only a cropped sweater you had thrifted and a pair of your comfiest shorts. So what if they were a little short on you, they did the job of keeping you comfy while you slept. No one besides Denki saw you in them, mostly because you wore them to bed. Opening the fridge door, you cringed at the harsh lighting hitting you square in the face. You bent over, eyes scanning the bottom shelf for something to pique your interest. Since you figured Denki was in his room, you didn’t bother to bend your knees while you were searching for your snack.

“Uh- I uh, whatcha lookin’ for?” Denki’s voice cracked slightly. What were the odds? Your head whipped up so fast from the fridge, you nearly knocked into the door of it. Your face began to overheat as you saw your roommate standing there in his pyjamas, fighting off his own blush as he looked at you. Had he seen how your shorts rode up your ass, giving the perfect view of the lace black panties you had been wearing that night? Maybe. The answer was most definitely a yes, but he wasn’t going to admit that to you. He really didn’t want to die by your hands.

“I was, well I was grabbing some water,” you fumbled for your words as Denki approached you, moving around the bar counter of your apartment to peer into the fridge himself from behind you. His hair was damp, sticking to his forehead indicating that he had just hopped out of the shower. No kidding, he had used your fruit passion shampoo along with lemon scented body wash again. You felt his hot breath on the back of your neck from how close he was to you, your tongue wetting your lips as you tried to ease your building nerves. You were never so nervous around him, he was your roommate and your best friend. The two of you had always been comfortable around each other.

You stood perfectly still, razor focused on the fruit cup on the top shelf to distract your mind that was buzzing with electricity. He smelled so good. He felt awfully warm. And he was incredibly close to you, so much so that you could hear his own inner monologue if you listened hard enough. You were so caught up in your thoughts that your mind barely registered that his hands were sitting comfortably on your waist. “Hey,” Denki spoke up, “Did you wear that for me?”

Processing his words, there was a tiny heat that began to burn low in your stomach. “I’m sorry?” you squeaked out.

“The black lacy ones. The ones that make me want to eat you out on the counter until you’re screaming. Did you wear those for me?” his voice was low, whispering deliciously into your ear. Sinful thoughts were clouding your mind, your previous intentions of getting a snack now lost to the idea of possibly choking on something else entirely tonight. “Denki—” His hands slipped beneath your shirt, stopping just below your breasts. You were starting to feel something hard poking at the cheek of your ass. Your breath hitched, thighs clenching together in an attempt to tame the growing heat between them. The two of you had been dancing around the notion of having feelings for each other for a long time.

You tried to look the other way every time he would stare at you for just a small bit longer than he should. He pretended to not notice the way you sat so very close to him, despite the entire couch being free. The way your fingertips brushed his thighs when you leaned over him to grab the remote. The way his touch lingered on your hip when he went to pass behind you while you cooked dinner together, his palms warm and jittery. Everything clicked together so perfectly for the two of you, it was beginning to become undeniable and almost comical at this point.

Tonight only made you more desperate for some type of release, since all of the previous tension between the two of you had crescendoed into Denki moulding his lips to your neck and sucking deep purple marks in a lovely pattern against your hot skin. Your legs felt weak, a strained moan escaping you. Between the cool air of the open fridge and his hands exploring your torso, it felt like heaven. His fingers pinched and pulled at your nipples eagerly, his name falling off your tongue as if second nature. You wanted him bad. And he wanted nothing more than to strip you of your clothes and have you right there in the kitchen.

Your legs quivered as he touched you, allowing yourself to lean back against him and succumb to his affection. “I’ve been waiting to do this for so long, baby,” the confidence radiating off the blond was dripping right into his tone. It made more of that liquid heat manifest in your lower half. You were quite certain that those lacy black panties Denki had been talking about now had a wet patch from all of his ministrations. His hands kept massaging at your breasts, small whimpers leaving your lips as you whispered out how you needed more from him. You panted, craning your neck to the side to give him more access to your skin. Your hips seemed to move on their own as you wiggled your ass right up against his prominent hard on. “Fuck,” he swore, fingers dipping into your shorts and past the waistline of your underwear to feel your slick. You were soaking from his touches, thighs shaking and fingers finding purchase in blond locks as his finger pad grazed your aching clit. “More,” you whined with need, “I wanna.. I wanna touch you, please.”

Denki’s mind felt like it was melting. Was this a dream? He never wanted to wake up if that was the case. He inserted a finger into your core, heart fluttering upon hearing you moan out for him again. Your walls hugged his single digit, his dick twitching at the sensation. You were feeling unbearably sensitive for some reason that night, the way his thumb drew circles around your clit paired with his finger reaching within you made your head light. “You’re so greedy, look at you fucking yourself on my fingers. Moaning like that for me. From how much you walk around like a little slut, you had this coming,” Denki nibbled at the lobe of your ear before adding a second digit, curling his fingers and further sending you into your pleasure. “Denki,” you called out again, head tossed against his shoulder, ass rubbing right against his dick in ways that made his head spin. “You’re so wet, do you hear that? Holy fuck, I can’t wait to taste you,” Denki’s words made the coil inside the pit of your stomach snap, your first orgasm of the night finally washing over you as you clenched around his fingers. It took all of Denki’s willpower not to cum in his boxers right then and there. Falling against him for support, your hips lazily rolled against his digits to ride out your high.

“Up on the counter babe, we’re not done yet. I’m still feeling a bit hungry,” he murmured into your ear. The two of you backed away from the fridge, leaving the door open to allow some light in the darkened kitchen. You turned to face him, seeing a bit of a loopy smile on his face despite his lust blown pupils. You wasted no time in connecting your lips, tongue sliding into his mouth with ease. Your body pressed his against the cool granite of the counter, his hands drifting lower down your back to meet the flesh of your ass. He tapped your ass a couple times, his fingers pinching at the fabric of your thin shorts. “You won’t be needing these,” he chuckled deeply against your lips. His drop in octave made you shiver. Your own hands mapped out his body, feeling across his abs that he prided himself on as a pro-hero while your other went right for his cock.

Your excited fingers pulled down his gray sweatpants along with his boxers, his cock springing free from its confines. There was a lovely amount of precum beading atop his reddening head, your thumb swirling the natural lube around his tip. The action elicited a groan from the blond, grabbing a bit harder at your ass. You were gentle, teasing even, your eyes glazed over in lust as your hand pumped his dick at a slow tempo. Denki’s hips began to fuck into your hand, his chest heaving as he took this time to shed himself of his t-shirt. He felt entranced by how your fingers looked so delicate fisting his cock, breath hitching in his throat as your wrist rolled with each stroke of his dick. “Do you know how— fuck — how long I’ve waited for this?” Denki’s words are gentle, his neck craning back down to nip at your exposed skin.

“Too long?”

“Way too long.”

You giggled and he groaned, a low rumble against your soft skin that makes you shiver yet again. You smirked with amusement as you felt him pulse in your hand, yet Denki pulled away from your touch just as you were about to tip him over the line to his own orgasm. “You, you first,” he told you, golden eyes trained on yours, “I like seeing you come undone for me.”

A whimper escaped you, his grin hungry with want for you and only you. “Let’s see how good you taste,” he pressed a final kiss to your lips as he eagerly dropped to his knees. With a shy look in your eyes, you allowed your legs to spread, giving Denki a full view of your pretty pussy. He was practically salivating, eyes taking in your wet sex with a strange fire lit behind them. He was eating good tonight. With your fingers threading in his hair and tugging lightly, he took it as his signal to go. You sucked in a gasp of surprise as something cool touched your already slick entrance. Oh, you had forgotten that Denki had a fucking tongue piercing.

Instinctively, your thighs started to close around Denki’s head. He held them open with ease, the metal ball of his piercing following the tip of his tongue as he happily traced your entrance. “Denki,” you huffed, growing frustrated at his languid pace. For a man who seemed rather eager, he was going very slowly. Denki hummed in response, lips now attached to your clit and you felt your body jolt at the feeling. Fuck. Maybe you should have bit your tongue instead. Channeling electricity through his quirk, you felt a shock emitted from the tiny piece of metal in his mouth to your aching clit. “Denki!” you moaned, eyelids fluttering as you struggled to keep your gaze on him. Your hands kept pulling at his semi-damp hair, rutting your hips as best as you could into his face as your heart beat rapidly in your chest. You felt ten times hotter than you did when you first entered the kitchen, your hands expelling your own sleep shirt to the floor as Denki moaned at the sight of your exposed tits. This gave him the opportunity to push his tongue into your pussy, your toes curling at the sensation of his tongue entering your heat. He had his fun, darting his tongue in and out of you as he kept moaning to keep up the tiny vibrations. Moving his bangs away from his eyes, you could only watch as he ate you out with his skilled muscle.

His tongue reached deeper inside of you, his hands holding your thighs apart firmly as they were threatening to clamp around his head with more force. You hadn’t anticipated that Denki would be this fucking good with his mouth. Your inner walls squeezed around him, your moans picking up in volume. Your nipples were peaked, your back arched and your head thrown back as all you could do was continuously grind your hips against his face. This only edged the blond further, his nose stimulating your swollen clit as his tongue delved as far as it could into your dripping cunt. You nearly screamed his name as you were finally tipped over the edge, your chest heaving as Denki suckled at your sensitive lower lips. He drank your essence happily, your body prickling with heat as he drew back to watch in awe at how your pussy fluttered invitingly around nothing. He was drunk on the feeling of you cumming on his mouth. You two were definitely doing that again.

As you steadily regulated your breathing, Denki slowly got up from his position on the floor. Wiping away a bit of your cum from the corner of his mouth, he threw you another grin. You swallowed dryly, “Need you.”

“What was that, baby?”

“Need you, Den. I need you in.. Please.” Your eyes were begging him to give you more. You had seen how much his cock had been leaking onto the kitchen floor, practically throbbing between his legs from not having given release. With a cheeky sort of smile, Denki gave you a kiss to your cheek before settling his lips to the shell of your ear. “Whatever you say, babe.”

In an instant, you were swept off the counter, your body being caged between the closed freezer door and Denki holding you up from beneath your thighs. His cock fell heavy against your stomach, twitching in its desperation for attention. The light emitting from the open door of the fridge illuminated the right half of the electric blond’s face, his expression lustful and giddy in the harsh LED lighting. It made your heart buzz with anticipation, your body tensing as he eased the head of his cock past your folds. Your hands scrambled for his shoulders, fingernails leaving red crescents along his creamy skin. Denki’s eyes were on you, his breathing irregular as you wasted no time in pulling out and thrusting back in with confidence. His lips swallowed your moans, the wet, lewd sounds of your fucking adding more tinder to the heat now coiling in the pit of your stomach for the third time tonight. “Please,” you begged, practically trembling from overstimulation as Denki rocked you into the cool aluminum of the freezer door.

“Please what, baby?” the playfulness in his tone didn’t match the serious manner in which he kept pistoning into you, chasing his own release as your slick from previous orgasms now coated his cock and ran down his thighs. Each time he went in, he angled himself right up to meet that special spot inside you to make you see tiny specks of white dot your vision. “I- I, ah! Denki!” Fingers now grasping at his hair again, you yanked harshly as you came around his pulsing cock for the third and final time, squeezing him snugly as you desperately attempted to catch your breath. There was a tingly sensation running through your legs starting from your thighs, numbing and electric as Denki kept up his quick pace to chase his own release, groaning dirty praises into your ear that made you keen. Your legs wrapped around his waist, urging him to go deeper and finish inside of you. His hips met yours for one last time, stuttering as he pumped his sticky cum into your abused hole. You two stayed there for a moment, you letting out quiet giggles as Denki took his time in getting the air back into his lungs. He let you down steadily from the position you had been in, making sure to hold you up since the feeling was still a bit lost in your legs.

“Wow that was,” Denki paused, struggling to find the right word for the situation you two had caught yourselves in. “Satisfying,” you finished for him, to which he blushed deeply. The smile he flashed you was earnest and relieved, if he was being quite honest. “Ah, nice! Let’s get you something to eat, maybe a cheese string. But definitely water!”

“I’m actually feeling pretty full right now in terms of cheese. Thanks for that, Den.”

“Wait really?” Denki questioned as he swept his boxers along with his shirt off the kitchen floor, his concern showing through his furrowed brow, “Not even for a cheese string?”

A deadpan look crossed your face, sighing as you gave in to your dumbass of a roommate. “One cheese string.”

“Bet!”

Needless to say, post sex activities consisted of a hot shower, the second Shrek movie, and two cheese strings (per Denki’s request). Not a bad way to relieve your stress, you concluded to yourself happily as you snuggled closer to your roommate, fingers intertwined beneath the blanket as you allowed yourself to slip into a comfortable slumber against Denki’s shoulder.

all works © eijishimas 2021. do not reuse, modify, or repost.

tags:

@cynthus-no @stoopidnekobish @brialoveskbtbb @baku-deku1 @cherrychan0

want to be on the taglist? see here.

[marycecilyy]

Hey could you do headcanons for the mcl guys (or if not all of them castiel, armin, and kentin) when their S/O is a famous singer? Thank you❤

Oh god this turned out so longer than I expected huahahushaushu

First of all, these are too long to be headcanons, all three of them have more than 1k words each. Also, I changed a bit the prompt. It's more like "Candy has the dream of becoming a famous singer". The rest you'll see... I'll only say that I'm very proud of this one ;)

Castiel, Armin and Kentin with a Candy that wishes to be a famous singer

Castiel

Castiel wasn’t one to be friendly to new students, but he knew you weren’t like any other when you came to him and asked if Winged Skull was one of his favorite bands too. He was shocked to know that there was another person at Sweet Amoris who enjoyed the same bands as him. Yes, bands (in plural). After he answered that, yes, Winged Skull was his favorite band of all times, you started talking about your common interests and discovered that there were many.

He was a very closed off guy, but somehow you managed to break into his skull in a short time and, in a few months, you turned into best friends.

When Debrah came back and that whole situation happened, your fight with Castiel had a lot of impact over you. In your head, you had just lost your best friend forever. Fortunately. Lysander not only helped you recover from the blow and gave you energy to gather your friends and expose Debrah, but also helped you admit to yourself that, you did have feelings for Castiel.

Once she was unmasked and ran away like a coward, things quickly came back to normal. In less than one week, you had restored your reputation, your friends apologized for misjudging you, Castiel and you were once again friends. The only difference was that you knew that you were in love with him.

You didn’t tell him about your feelings right away, you decided to keep your friendship and focus a bit on your lifelong goal: become a music star. You started learning how to sing properly and doubled the days of your guitar lessons. Castiel even helped you get into the music club (they were full when you got into Sweet Amoris, but he found a way to enroll you).

You knew that your chances of actually becoming famous were pretty low, the market was difficult and depended a lot on having the right contacts. That was why, while you tried putting your name out there, your plan was to get a degree in music as soon as you finished high school. Antheros Academy offered a good education and was close, it was your best option.

As you channeled your energies towards your goal, Castiel started to acknowledge his own sentiment towards you. He liked to watch your focused face as you tuned your guitar and your singing voice earned a sweet accent all of the sudden. He always considered you a special girl, but, to his surprise, feelings were starting to develop inside his closed off chest.

That was why, as soon as he won those concert tickets on a raffle, he knew he’d take you there as your first date. Luckily for him, you accepted right away. Castiel had a feeling that night would be something else.

And it really was, as he kissed you, without even thinking it through, when the vocalist sung what he knew was your favorite tune. When you kissed him back, he wrapped his hands over your waist and lifted you up, feeling your warm lips open up for him.

The months that followed were full of bliss. With you and Castiel officially dating, the school had a lot to talk about. Amber pestered you quite a bunch of times, but that didn’t mess with your relationship at all. Everything was perfect, as it was supposed to be.

But that didn’t last long. Right after you finished high school, your dad had to move to another town because of his job and you had no choice but to go too. You were sure that your relationship would survive the distance, after all, you were in love. This situation would be worked out.

Castiel came to your new house a couple of times and you two called frequently, but in the end distance started to grow between the both of you… and it hurt. Knowing that Castiel was sad made you miserable and you decided to break up before it became unbearable.

You lost your count of how many nights you cried thinking about him.

4 years later.

You were zipping your jeans up when you heard a knock on your dressing room’s door. Who could it be? Your parents had already congratulated you over the phone, there was no one supposed to come that night. Did your manager schedule a press interview for after the show?

You put on your shirt and told whoever was on the other side to wait. When you finally opened the door, your jaw almost fell. You couldn’t believe he was there.

He looked exactly like in the magazines, (a bit less photoshopped, but that was to expect. You went through that as well and it sucked). His hair was shoulder-length and he wore a black shirt that showed off the tattoos up to the middle of his arm. He wore some light makeup, most on his skin, which you deduced his manager made him put on. Castiel looked like you expected him to after all those years, but one thing about him surprised you.

His eyes, although more mature and serious, had the same brightness as before.

"Are ya going to keep staring like that?” He asked and you noticed you had just been looking at him for a solid minute.

“Sorry. Come in.” You said and made space for him to enter the room. For your luck, there was nothing private to be seen, you had the habit of leaving your clothes and personal belongings messy and only cleaning up the second you had to go.

Castiel cleared his throat. An awkward silence hung between you. You hadn’t been alone with each other ever since the breakup. You two were two of the biggest stars of nowadays rock music, but you barely had any opportunity to talk. Not that you haven’t tried, it was the opposite. You avoided contact. Your fans knew you had dated in high school (you used to have pictures on your personal instagrams and fans were quick to dig over old accounts to find information about their idols), so they never expected a feat or any kind of collab. Everyone knew that you weren’t on best terms.

You remembered just a couple of days ago, when you were interviewed for one of those talk shows. The host made a lot of personal questions about Castiel and even asked if you would get back with him if you had the chance. You tried to avoid answering, but the public instantly read your unconscious signs: yes, you would.

That was why, you assumed, he was there. To make things clear. After all, because of you yours and his fans started shipping you two and got you on twitter’s trending topics. He probably was pissed. There was also a possibility of him wanting to take advantage of the situation, maybe propose a fake relationship? No, that wasn’t like him. Or was it? You barely knew him anymore.

“So… you probably guessed why I’m here. I saw your interview” You were right, then. “And I want to make things clear.” Ouch. You should prepare for the blow. “Look, we both know time has passed and we’re not the same as before. You broke up to avoid more suffering, and I get that. I really do.”

Castiel crossed his arms and glared at you. You looked back at him with fear, fear of knowing what his next words would be. “But...?” You asked.

“Tsk.” He huffed. This would be more difficult than he thought. “Look, little girl…” You felt a shiver run through your spine at the sound of the old nickname he gave you. You had always loved it, even though you didn’t say it out loud. After what felt like hours, he continued. “I don’t want to be cheesy, that’s not like me. So I’ll just say that if what all of the fans are theorizing is true.... If you do want to try again....”

Castiel took your hand and you jumped in surprise. He turned your palm to him and grabbed a pen from his back pocket. He wrote down a phone number on your hand and let go of it, capped the pen and turned around to go.

"That's my personal number. It’s pretty useful if you wanna call me without having to schedule an appointment with my manager.” You managed to laugh. You knew exactly how these things were annoying.

Inside, you were bursting with excitement. However, you answered playfully “Hm…. I’ll think about it, mr. Rockstar” Castiel chuckled and excused himself, saying that his manager would get pissed at him if he took too long. You smiled.

Maybe it was not over, after all.

Armin

When you told Armin, very early on your friendship, that your dream was to become a famous singer, he got so excited for you. He already knew that you played the guitar and was good at singing, but he had no idea that you wanted to make this your career path.

You couldn’t have chosen a better partner. Being the tech nerd that Armin was, he helped you a lot in recording your covers with the best quality possible considering the amateur camera and microphone you had.

However, the times that his presence most comforted you was when you showed him your new songs. He was always eager to see your composing progress and gave you pure honesty in his feedback, keeping in mind that he was no expert but still wanted to help you.

You always asked him for a way to return his favors, but he always said that it was his duty as your best friend to support you and that it was more than enough having you to talk about all his geek interests.

As time passed, you started to notice that you liked him way more as a friend. Without an idea of what to do, you asked Rosa and Alexy for advice. They were your closest friends apart from your crush (and you couldn’t run to him in that situation, duh)

After a dozen pro tips and date ideas from them, you decided to take Armin to the movies (basic, you knew, but couldn’t go wrong).

When you asked him if he was available Saturday night, you didn’t say properly “Hey, we’re going on a date”. Actually, you didn’t mention the word “date” at all, hoping that he would read between the lines.

And he did, because as soon as you sat and the film started, Armin grabbed your hand that was resting in the armrest and entwined your fingers. You couldn’t pay attention to what was going on screen at all and your attention was completely drawn from the movie when the boy grabbed your chin and brought your lips to his.

You only stopped kissing when the lights went on and the credits started scrolling.

“Hey…” You asked as soon as you two left the place, holding hands with him. “What was the movie about again?”

Armin laughed out loud. He teased you about it a lot before you made him confess that he didn’t know either.

A few days later, it was him who asked you out. You kept going on dates for the next week, all of them simple but interesting at the same time. However, you two weren’t dating. The whole school knew there was something going on between you two by the chuckles and timid kisses when you thought nobody saw them, but you didn’t make things official… yet. But that was about to change.

It was friday and you invited Armin over to “study” (he was sure that the afternoon would be spent between videogames and kisses, but if you wanted to call it a study session, it was okay for him).

As he comfortably sat on your bed as if it were his own, you told him to wait as you brought him some juice. When you came back, he was already grabbing his nintendo switch from his bag.

“What makes you think that we’re here to game?” You teased, handing him the glass.

“Come on, Candy, we both know that none of us are interested in learning orbital hybridization…”

“Maybe I am. I really need a good grade on those tests.” You approached him and held his jaw up so your foreheads touched. With a trailed voice, you continued. “Unless you have something more interesting to do in mind...”

Armin opened up that playful smile of his. “Oh, I do, actually.” In a quick movement that caught you off guard, he threw you in bed and started pampering you with kisses all over your face. You couldn’t stop laughing from how his hands tickled your belly, but you managed to stop him. “W-Wait, Armin!”

He looked at you, confused. “What?”

As you caught your breath, you explained that there was something you wanted to show him first. You got off the bed and went to grab your guitar that was hung up on the free wall of your bedroom.

“Did you compose a new song?” Armin deducted as you sat in front of him again, this time with your guitar in hands.

“You’ll see.” You tuned your instrument under his curious gaze. When you felt satisfied with the sound, you looked back at him. Armin didn’t miss the blush that coloured your cheeks. “I know you’d never do it, but I have to ask even so: promise you won’t laugh.”

You started playing the first chords of the song you had finished composing just a few days before. Usually, you composed simple songs that anyone could identify with, songs about friendship, inspiration, changing the world. You never wrote about your personal feelings. The notes never made you cry.

This song was special, though, because it was about him.

The day it hit you that you had feelings for him, you had the idea of writing random verses that could one day fit into a new song. After your first date, you felt so overwhelmed that, looking at the words, you decided to turn them into a song. You didn’t think it would turn into something so personal and emotional. Every note, every word, everything was clearly about him, that dorky geek you had fallen in love with.

Falling deeper every time

I can’t help but think, oh my

I’m through, but I don’t mind

Would you trade you 2D girls

For this hopeless lover

That just wants your heart?

I’ll just say that he got the message very clearly and, as soon as you finished playing, he practically jumped on you, kissing your lips with such tenderness that you almost teared up.

Of course, he asked you to be his girlfriend XD

Kentin

The first time he heard about your dream, he was still little Ken. It was one of your first days at Sweet Amoris and you two were eating cookies in the staircase. You were ranting about how sad you were that the music club was already full and you couldn’t join. Ken asked you the reason why you were so upset.

“Well… There weren’t those kind of classes in our old school. Learning how to play an instrument and sing, even during extra classes would be so cool! If I went well, maybe I’d be able to convince my dad to pay me for some private classes and then I’d be one step closer to my dream!”

“Your dream?” Ken muttered.

“Yeah! I want to become a famous singer in the future! I know that it’s impossible and even kinda silly, but-”

“No, Candy! It’s not silly at all!” Ken said. Learning more about you made him happy and he didn’t want you to think for even a second that your dream was worthless. “You shouldn't be ashamed of dreaming big. You’ll have a long, difficult path to walk through, but when you get there - and you have my word on that - I’ll be cheering for you!”

“Ken... “ You flashed your best smile at him. It meant a lot to you to have his support, he was a kind person and a very good friend (he did cross a few limits with his adoration for you, but you weren’t bothered by it). You liked being around him a lot.

-x-

“Kentin!” You threw yourself in his arms and gave him a tender kiss. “Good morning.”

Your boyfriend chuckled and held your hand, walking with you through the hallway. You talked about how your weekend had been and, between light smiles and sweet kisses, you thought of how quickly things changed between you two.

When he came back from military school, a lot of things had changed in him, including his nickname. You were facing a new person and it had been a challenge discovering Kentin and building a new relationship with him.

Even though he was a different person from before, one thing didn’t change at all and you noticed it clearly: he still liked you. Obviously he was no longer that guy who professed his feelings to everyone and followed you everywhere, he had found new ways to show you his love. You enjoyed that more mature version of him, but wished he had the opportunity to grow into a man without all the trauma he went through. You knew that most of his growth had been through suffering, and that upset you.

You didn’t know when, but somewhere into your friendship you started to grow feelings for him too. After some coaxing from Rosa and Alexy, you managed to ask him out on an official date.

The whole school already knew that Kentin was head over heels for you, but everyone was shocked to know that you loved him back as your relationship became official.

“Hey, love.”

“What?” You asked your boyfriend back as soon as you got in front of your lockers. You started looking for your books, checking that day’s classes.

“I really liked that video you posted on youtube yesterday. I never heard that song before, did you compose it yourself?”

The book you held in your hand fell to the ground. “What video?” You whispered, eyes wide.

“What do you mean, babe? That video of you singing and playing the guitar. You uploaded it yesterday night. I saw right away, you know I have my notifications turned on to all your videos. I got surprised that you decided to finally show your face and sing something of your own and- Candy? Is everything okay?”

Kentin noticed your face and got worried for you. You looked absolutely terrified.

“That video… How did you see it? I posted it as private”

“No, you didn't. It was public.” Kentin was starting to understand why you were so surprised. He put one hand on your back as you blushed and hid your face on his chest in embarrassment.

“Oh god, I can’t believe I did that! I’m so stupid! The first time I record something like that, I accidentally post it for everyone to see! Dumb, dumb Candy! Dang, now everyone’s gonna know I’m bad!”

“First of all.” Your boyfriend frowned, bringing you close to him. “You’re not dumb, you just made a mistake. And it’s okay, probably just a few people saw it. Last time I checked was before I went to sleep and it only had 20 views. But why are you so upset, Candy? Didn’t you tell me a few days ago that you were finally ready to show your face along with the covers. Did something happen to change your mind?”

“Well, I was not ready to show right away, especially not in a video that I looked terrible in. And it’s not just that. It was my first original song. I never showed it to anyone, what if it sucks?”

Kentin held your chin up and looked you in the eyes. “Candy, it doesn’t suck and you look great in the video!” You closed your eyes and snuggled close to him. “But I understand your concerns. Luckily, that can be solved if you delete the video. You’ll have other opportunities to get famous, and with better videos.”

“Yeah, I can do that.” You reached for your phone and went to your youtube page. “Fu... No way…!”

Your hands trembled. Kentin was right, the video had few views (which was good). Only 50 people had seen it, but the problem wasn’t that. For your bad luck, one of those people had been Amber. You knew that because she had left three comments on your video.

AmberOfficial: lmaooooo

AmberOfficial: Thank you for the laughs. That’s hilarious

AmberOfficial: Just give up already, looser

“That girl....” Kentin grunted, looking at your phone screen. “I swear to you, Candy, I’ll make her regret this. I’ll-”

“You don’t need to, I’m fine.”

You untangled your arms from his torso and started walking away, trying your best to hide how upset you really were. Amber was right, your music sucked. You should give up on your dream of becoming a famous singer, not only because you were bad, but also because you could barely show your face to a few people without feeling like shit. You wouldn’t be able to deal with fame.

Kentin tried to call you, but you didn’t answer. He figured you needed some time alone. He could use that time to think of something to support you and get back at Amber.

-x-

You walked out of the bathroom, your eyes red and swollen from crying. You had already deleted the video, but you couldn’t stop feeling stupid for getting so upset by a few bad comments. And feeling stupid made you even more upset.

When you got to the hallway, it was empty due to classes having already started. You probably spent half an hour locked up, but at least no one would mess with you.

You went to the garden to get some fresh air and wait until the next class started. You sat at the bench, breathed in and finally calmed down a bit.

“Candy.”

You turned around, surprised to see your boyfriend. “Kentin! What are you doing here? Classes have already started.”

He just waved his hand in a “don’t worry about that” way and sat beside you. He kissed your cheek and took your hand, checking how you were. Seeing that you seemed to be more calm, he smiled lightly at you. “So… I talked to Armin. He already found out Amber’s password and he’ll hack into Amber’s youtube account. He’ll just mess with it for a bit, delete some videos and upload some random stuff. Nothing too bad, I promise, just some memes and rickrolls.”

“Hmm…” You muttered, thinking about what he said. It wasn’t right, for sure, but you didn’t feel like stopping them. You were still hurt. “Okay. Just promise you two won’t do something serious, okay?”

He agreed. You felt a bit better, but that wasn’t enough to lift your mood and Kentin knew that. That was why he also had something else prepared. "That 's not all. I did some quick search for places where you could record that music of yours with its deserved quality. You are a good composer, Candy, believe it. Your talent doesn’t have to stay hidden in a dark room with only you, a guitar and your cellphone recording it.”

“Kentin…”

“If you want to, I’ll help you rent a studio and record your song. That would be very useful for your portfolio. I know that’s expensive, but we can find ways to-” You cut him off with a kiss. He cared about you so much, to the point of skipping classes to think of ways to make you feel better. You loved your boyfriend so much…

Lucky. You felt lucky to have him.

“I love you. Thank you for taking care of me... “ You kissed his cheek, happy to have his support. That was more than enough at that moment, Amber’s words were far behind you. All that mattered was that you could go through this.

You had Kentin, and when you had him, you had your whole world holding you so you wouldn’t fall.

[alaskasmonsters]

Patch-Up | Levi Ackerman

levi got injured and you clean his wounds and patch him up, feeling guilty about being the reason he got hurt.

pairing: Levi Ackerman x gn!reader

w.c: 2.665

warning: very minor description of injuries, mentions of blood, Levi is kinda very soft in this one

a.n: i wasn’t actually planning to finish this so quickly, haha, levi i love you. also, i feel like he might kinda be ooc??? i just idk, maybe? i hope it isn’t too bad, though.

A frustrated sigh left your lips as you inspected Levi’s face closer, trying to hide your concern about the head wound and the now dried-up blood that marked a trail from the man’s hair line down to his chin.

He’s been hurt during your fight against Kenny and his guys, hitting his head horribly at one point during, leaving a nasty cut behind.

You already felt bad about that, since it was kinda your fault he hit his head in the first place, as he had to protect you in a moment you weren’t entirely focused and would have certainly died if Levi hadn’t swooped in and saved your ass.

It didn’t help that Levi’s eyes, who were usually set in a cold and unbothered glance had grown softer, which smoothened out the frown he almost always wore on his face.

It was terrifying.

You hoped the man didn’t have a concussion because of your stupidity.

“I’ll clean the wound,” you mumbled weakly, repeating words you’ve already said once to remind yourself to keep moving towards him.

You were hyper aware of the captain’s eyes on you and the way the matratze softly bounced as you sunk down on the bed beside him. You reached for the bucket with fresh water and the cloth hanging off it and noticed in horror that your hands were shaking.

Calm down. It‘s only a little blood.

Dipping the fabric into the water and wringing it out you tried to focus your attention on calming your breath, scared Levi would notice you panicking and get annoyed by your sensitive nature as he once called it.

As you were sure your heart rate had slowed you turned again, sending the brunet a small smile, hoping it looked reassuring, as you moved the cloth to start cleaning around the area of the eyes first, so he could see again.

Your hands were still shaking, you noticed bitterly, but you tried your best to make it seem like it was fine.

A hand then took hold of your wrist in a surprisingly soft manner, holding your arm in place.

You froze in surprise, eyes glancing up to find Levi staring at you. His gaze studying you calmly.

“I‘m okay,” he said.

You averted your eyes, biting your lips.

So he had noticed.

Of course.

He was way too observant to miss your fidgety movements and shaky breath. You should probably be more surprised about the soft tone of his voice and the absent annoyance in his features.

„I know,“ you assured, trying and probably failing at putting a tone of certainty in your voice.

Levi studied your face once more, before he gave a slow nod of approval, letting go off your wrist again.

You hoped he didn’t see you visibly relax after he did.

Quickly, you went to work and started cleaning off the dried blood from beneath his left eye first. That proved itself more difficult than you had expected as the constant weight of his eyes on you made you feel nervous and short-breathed.

Silence fell between the both of you, the only sound being your breathing and the occasional water splashing, when cleaning off the rug.

“Close your eye,” you ordered as you had removed all the blood from his cheek.

Levi did what you told him without complaining, closing his eye while he continued watching you out of the other in the meantime.

You clenched your jaw, slowly growing frustrated by the eerie silence between you two and Levi’s uncharacteristic calmness.

Not that he usually screamed at you, but the aura of annoyance that enveloped humanity’s strongest most days, especially when interacting with you it seemed, had disappeared.

It kinda scared you.

His persistent glance on you, now out of two eyes again as you moved to clean off the cloth, would have felt more comfortable if he’d just rolled his eyes once in a while.

It almost seemed like he was expecting you to do something, or hoping maybe. Although you had no idea of what that could be.

Slowly the silence was growing heavy for you, the urge to fill it with words becoming unbearable. So when you turned back to move on to his forehead, softly brushing dark strands of hair out of his face you said the first thing that came to mind.

“I‘m sorry.“

The familiar frown appeared on his face again and your heart jumped in your chest.

“What are you talking about?“

You shrugged, trying to focus your attention on your task at hand instead of letting your eyes shift back to his.

“I was being stupid and didn‘t pay attention and you had to save my ass...now you‘re hurt,” you whispered, words dripping with guilt.

Tears pricked the corner of your eyes and you cursed yourself at being so hypersensitive. Levi hated when you cried about stupid shit, he hated it when you were being dramatic.

You bit your lips, forcing the tears back down.

„Tch. It wasn‘t your fault your ODM gear malfunctioned, brat.”

Levi did finally sound annoyed (his voice still had that soft nuance to it, though, so it didn’t completely count).

“If I wasn't distracted that moment, I wouldn't have been almost sliced up by one of Kenny’s guys despite my malfunctioning ODM gear and you wouldn’t have had to swoop in and save my ass and then you never would have gotten hurt...” i explained, hands moving faster to rub the blood off of his skin as my voice rose in frustration.

If you had only been able to save face, keep calm and not fall into utter panic the moment something didn’t work out as you had expected it, too. Then this would have never happened.

Levi was right. You were irresponsible and childish and hot headed and...

A cold hand snuck around your wrist once again, squeezing your skin once, twice. Your hand stilled. Turning your face away, you bit your lip in frustration.

You had been told often, by almost everyone you’ve ever gotten to know throughout the years with the Survey Corps, that you wore your heart on your sleeve. Some found it endeatring, calling you soft hearted and gentle, while others were (rightfully) scolding you for it, saying you’d never make it far in this kind of profession when you weren’t even able to hide your frustration with the smallest things.

Armin, one of your new recruits, had once told you you had an honest face. Said it was the reason many people trusted you, since they knew you couldn’t hide your lies or insincerities as easily as others.

Levi had told you many times that it was your biggest disadvantage and he was right. You’d never be able to rise in the ranks, never would be declared the leader of a squad or trusted in a position with responsibility. After all, nobody wanted to take orders from someone who couldn't hide their fear, anger, frustration or sadness.

You almost expected Levi to scold you for it once again, grip your wrist and tell you, no, order you to get a grip, not to let anybody see your weakness...

He didn’t.

“I told you, it wasn‘t your fault,” he told you sternly as his thumb softly stroked the inside of your wrist.

Your brain so gracefully short-circuited at the action and unwillingly, as if you were pulled towards a magnet, your eyes were drawn back towards Levi.

His facial expression was just as monotone as usual, but his eyes, they were different still. An emotion you couldn’t quite grasp hidden just beneath the surface. You didn’t know what exactly it was, but it made your heart flutter.

“I‘m still sorry though,” you protested weakly, smiling a little, hoping it would ease the thick tension.

Levi continued to study your face in silence for a few seconds before he finally let go, with a roll of his eyes and a scoff.

You could hardly hide the feeling of triumph that gave you.

“Brat.”

You grinned at him, turning your attention back to his wounds.

You hadn’t even noticed how long you’d already held his hair back, cradling his head in your hand.

The realization made your cheeks glow and you quickly sneaked a look at the man but noticed thankfully Levi had either not noticed or decided not to comment.

You went back to your job, chest a little lighter.

When you were finished cleaning off all the dried off blood you took a closer look at his injury. Despite the vehement blood loss the cut in his skin was relatively small. It didn’t even need stitches, although it might leave behind a bump, considering the velocity he had hit the roof with on his way down.

You sat back on your hackles and raised your finger. You gave Levi a stern (or hopefully stern) glance as you told him to follow your movements.

“Don‘t be an idiot, i don‘t have a concussion.”

You gave him a pout, unmoving as you eyed him stubbornly.

Judging by how easily he gave in, indicated by a sigh and another roll of his eyes, your worry might be justified.

You started moving your hand slowly and Levi followed the movement for a while, sending you a glare when you started drawing circles and spirals into the air.

You just gave him a grin.

“Okay, any dizziness? Headaches?” you asked.

“Why need a headache when you‘re around?” Levi answered sarcastically.

Seems like he was alright enough to be a little shit, then.

“Don‘t insult the person who‘s been cleaning blood off of you for 10 minutes!“

Now the only thing left to do was patching up his head, Thinking about it, a bandaged head would probably only add even more to his already above average appearance.

You started applying the cloth, carefully wrapping the material around his head. Levi endured your slow process like a champ.

You peeked at him from time to time, making sure the man had no complaints. He was very precise and hated sloppy work and you didn’t want him to think of you as unfit to fix him up. After all you had been the one offering, no, persisting to take a look and you didn’t want him to regret giving in to you.

“Stop looking at me like that, brat.”

You frowned, glancing down at him again.

“What? I don‘t know what you mean. I‘m not looking at you in any specific way.”

The corners of his lips moved up slightly, close enough to resemble a smile and your breath stuttered at the unfamiliar action. Your eyes were pulled towards them, the soft curve of his mouth was strangely captivating to you.  

“It‘s the way you‘re always looking at me,” he explained with a teasing tone and his smirk widened a little, making him look less and less like the Levi you’ve talked to every day.

Your face flooded with heat and you quickly snapped up your eyes, to no longer stare at the man’s lips (yes, you had been staring, how embarrassing) but instead into his eyes.

Big mistake.

The amused glint you found there made your face flush an even darker shade of red.

You could curse yourself and that you were once again acting like a smitten teenager instead of a soldier in front of your captain.

Trying to gloss over your embarrassment you shook your head, scoffing softly. Then you focused your attention on finishing your work with the bandage.

“I don‘t look at you any differently than I look at other people,” you declared in frustration.

He laughed. Levi Ackerman, emotionally stunted Levi Ackerman laughed. It was quiet and breathy, more likely a chuckle, almost inaudible, too.

But it shook you to your core.

“You have no issue declaring your love to me multiple times a day, but now you‘re getting shy?“ he asked in amusement, cocking his head to the side.

You huffed.

He wasn’t wrong, you were awfully direct with your affections towards the captain. Just like you couldn’t hide your emotions when it came to your face, you were horrible at concealing them in general.

How could you not comment on his strength and attractiveness when it was a blatant fact. Although you often did it in a joking manner, teasing Levi for having the prettiest face in the Survey Corps and acknowledging his skills with the ODM gear.

It wasn’t fair he was using this against you now.

“Shut up!” you grumbled, pulling at the cloth to straighten it out again.

Levi did shut up, although the smile didn’t fall from his face and his eyes watched you work with interest.

You finished quickly, partly because his gaze on you was nothing short of unsettling, partly because you hoped you’d get away before he started full on teasing you.

You couldn’t quite hide your frustration (as already established) and let out an exasperated groan.

“And stop smiling!” you warned, not sure where you’ve gotten the courage to do so.

Levi followed your movements as you picked up the bucket and brought it across the room to empty its contents into the sink.

“Is my smile bothering you? Didn‘t you say i should smile more?“ he asked in confusion.

“Yeah, but just in general. Not when i‘m in the room!“ you corrected him halfheartedly.

The chuckle you got in response made your brain short circuit once again.

How the fuck was this man so hot?

”Any specific reasons as to why, brat?“

You could only speak of luck that your back was turned towards Levi so you could hide the traitorous shade of red your face must be spotting at this moment. There would have been no denying it if the captain had chosen to comment on it.

Knowing him, he would have.

“Shut up.”  you protested again, subtly raising your hands to your face to cool your cheeks a little.

You couldn’t see his face this way but you were sure that Levi put his newfound ability of a smile, maybe even a smirk, judging by the goosebumps you felt on the back of your neck, to use.

While you were busy washing the bucket, Levi got to his feet to study your work in the mirror by the cupboard. He took a few seconds, and you believed he must be sorting the criticism he had by fatality, starting with the least life threatening mistake you made and moving on to the most hard hitting insult.

Despite what you had thought he gave his reflection a satisfied nod.

Okay, what?

“Decent job, brat,” he complimented and yes you might have combusted that moment.

You turned back to the sink, a satisfied smile growing on your lips. Your stomach felt all fuzzy and warm at Levi’s praise.

You didn’t notice the captain approach, only noticing his presence when he was already leaning into your personal space, whispering a soft “Thank you.” into your ear. His hot breath fanned over sensitive skin and you froze in your movement.

To torture you or maybe he didn’t get enough fun out of the situation already, he then proceeded to plant a small kiss to the corner of your lips, missing just enough so it wouldn’t count as a real kiss, before retreating again.

He left the room as if nothing of importance had just happened, leaving you behind, frozen in your spot and heart hammering in your chest.

Levi was already gone when you were able to shake yourself out of the shock.

You carefully touched your cheek, the ghost of a sensation of soft lips against your warm skin still prominent. The memory of him lingering for just a second too long now fresh on your mind.

A huge grin split your face, the urge to jump on the bed and hug your pillow while giggling manically overcame you out of a sudden.

You really were acting like a smitten teenager.

[engagemachine]

"You're so gentle," she tells me. They all say it. I hear it from my patients every time I take their arm to wrap the blood pressure cuff around it, or when I place my stethoscope on their belly, or when I rub circles into their back when I've helped them sit up on the side of the bed for the first time in three days. Sometimes they cry, because it's the first tender touch they've felt since they've been in the hospital. It's very humbling and at the same time very concerning -- why has no one else offered this tenderness to you? Why am I always the first?

But I don't feel gentle. Not when a pair of ribs are cracking beneath my hands as I'm doing chest compressions on a Covid patient who's stopped breathing--the second time I've administered CPR on a Covid patient in two days. I don't feel gentle when I'm wrestling with a patient and begging for them to keep their oxygen mask on. When I have to hold them down and hold them still so my coworker can draw a blood sample. I don't feel gentle when I'm inserting a nasogastric tube down someone's nose, then throat, and into their belly while they're gagging around the tube and their arms are flailing. And I don't feel gentle when I'm washing a sacral wound with bleach and they're crying because it hurts. I don't feel gentle when I have to shout, beg, and plead for patients to listen, when I tell patients they're going to die if they don't keep their oxygen mask on. I don't feel gentle when I have to place a patient in restraints, or when I call a family member and tell them that their loved one's condition hasn't improved. I don't feel gentle when a patient tells me they can't breathe, they can't breathe, I can't breathe, and I'm yelling for coworkers to call the doctor while I'm cycling through different oxygen masks and trying to administer medication to slow their respirations and calm their anxiety.

I'm writing this because I feel like I've been living a little bit behind a veneer on here, although I know deep down that's not really true; I have always wanted my blog to feel like a positive space for anyone and everyone, including myself. I come here to have fun and destress and that's why you usually don't see me reblogging content having to do with politics or global news. I think it's possible to create a healthy space where one does talk about those things and spreads awareness for important causes, but for me, Tumblr is where I come when I need to escape the harsh realities of real life. This is my platform where I can indulge in my fictional proclivities and interests, where I can appreciate art, photography, beautiful writing, my favorite films, music, and cute animals. That's what this space is about. I also have loved meeting new people and getting to know my readers and making new friends and chatting about my stories. That's why I'm here and I thank you all so, so much for indulging me in my passions and for encouraging my writing the way that you have: it has helped me weather the current storm of stress I am feeling in more ways than I could possibly convey.

But I have to be very honest with you all about how much I've been struggling lately, as I feel like I'm reaching a breaking point and I'm somewhat at a loss for how to handle it.

Since September of last year, I've been on an accelerated track to finish the degree I'm working towards, which is a Bachelor of Science in Nursing. I've been a nurse for four years, but I graduated from a two-year nursing program versus a four-year program because I wanted to get into the field earlier than some of my peers, which has been great. Anyway, my school counselor/mentor and I agreed that I could obtain my BSN in a year if I really pushed myself. The program I'm in is self-paced, which has been both a blessing and a curse. Most of my classes I have finished in about three to four weeks. Other classes, like biochemistry, took substantially longer, about seven or eight weeks, if I remember correctly. All of the classes have relied on my ability to self-teach, as there are no scheduled lectures to attend, only assigned readings and videos to watch, if you choose to do so. Fast forward to the end of May, when I went to visit some family, and, upon my return home, really started to lose some of my motivation to complete my classes. I was meant to finish my program in August (this month) but agreed with my mentor that I would take a short break and put my last three classes on hold so that I could resume the program in September. I've enjoyed approximately a month off from school, but "enjoyed" is a term I use loosely here as I was also picking up extra shifts at work because we've been so short staffed and losing nurses left and right.

Which brings me to the main cause of my stress. This pandemic has completely changed the landscape for how I administer care to my patients, and the stress of the care itself has been so utterly overwhelming at times I can hardly bear it. I broke down in tears at work on Sunday morning, shortly after 4:30 am, right there at the the nurse's station, and was sobbing so hard that my supervisor had to pull me away so that I could have some privacy. I wish I could tell you that I sobbed harder than I have in a long time--but I had sobbed at work with that same intensity just four weeks prior, only, I had been alone at the time. It's becoming a trend--I either cry at work or I cry at home--because the stress of this job has become unbearable.

I wish--I desperately wish--I could convey to you the seriousness of Covid. I think so much of the world has already decided to move on from it because they're so tired of having to deal with it and, quite simply, are ready to return to normal. I don't even know what normal is anymore and when--or if--we'll ever be able to return to it. And that has caused me a fair amount of stress and anxiety in and of itself. I miss traveling so much and I don't know when I'll be able to do it again. I haven't seen one of my best friends since the fall of 2018 for this reason, which kills me.

I've seen so much death. Transferred so many patients to the PCU and ICU. Frantically chased patients' oxygen saturation, trying to keep them from circling the drain. Being responsible for six or seven human lives at one time is a stress you cannot fathom unless you have done it yourself. I have cried with a patient, a young woman, who had lost her husband to Covid only hours before in the ER, a young woman who was now faced with battling Covid herself but also planning the funeral of her high school sweetheart from her hospital bed. I have wheeled a patient to the ICU so that he could say one final goodbye to his wife--married for over 50 years--before they pulled the plug and removed her from the ventilator. I have raced down the hallway with my patient on BIPAP, pushing his bed to the ICU and praying that he doesn't stop breathing on the way there. I've had to console crying family members over the phone who are worried about their loved ones, not to mention my crying coworkers who are as overwhelmed as I am. These are just a handful of experiences from the past month alone. There are so many more.

The discomfort of my job has become secondary. I expect, now, to be wearing an N95 for a full twelve or thirteen-hour shift because there isn't time to take it off. Not having a chance to pee or go to the bathroom during that time. Not drinking any water until I'm in my car and taking off my mask and finally taking a deep breath.

On a more personal note, I am continuing to lose weight and it's so discouraging. In high school I used to wear a size 2 or 4. Now, depending on the brand, I wear a double 00. My hair is falling out because of my stress. I haven't slept during the night in... I don't even know how long. I'm constantly tired. Exhaustion hits me like a great tidal wave and I am powerless to stop it. I expect now to crash during the middle of the day on my couch, only to wake up at 11pm and be wide awake for the rest of the night, and, if not wide awake, then in an out of nightmares and sleep paralysis. I have thought about leaving my job, but the idea of job hunting during a pandemic, and while I'm in school... it just makes me feel even more stressed.

I need a break, but it feels like there's nowhere to go to escape. I fantasize about some great adventure, going somewhere I've never been, but I also really miss my family and I'm scared to go home to visit.

This post doesn't really have a conclusive ending. I'm just exhausted and overwhelmed. Any prayers/thoughts would be greatly appreciated.

[julieloveupstead]

"To Infinity and beyond" - Upstead (part 1)

Description: First morning as brides. They are as happy as ever. How will Will react to the news that his little brother has knelt before Hailey?

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

Did what happened last night really happen? Did he really propose to the most gorgeous woman he knew? Did Hailey really say yes? Had he dreamed it?

Looking now at Hailey still sleeping in his arms tears involuntarily welled up in his eyes, his heart began to beat unmistakably fast and his smile widened more and more with each passing moment.

It all seemed surreal to him, but he couldn't have imagined a better evening and a better engagement.

If someone had told him just six months ago that the most gorgeous woman he'd ever met and an amazing police officer with an incredible career ahead of her would choose him over every cop's dream job at the FBI he would have laughed it off.

But he did. Hailey Anne Upton chose his Jay Halstead over a career with the feds. He asked himself what he had done to deserve her.

From then on, he couldn't imagine a morning without her smile, the smell of her skin, and her morning voice. Her kisses and the fact that he was the first to look at her every day.

There wasn't a day that went by when he couldn't imagine a romantic dinner where he would ask her to marry him and give her the ring she deserved and reflect how special she was, even though he knew he would never find one. He even had a plan to write an engagement speech. He wanted to do absolutely everything to show how much he loved her and the fact that he couldn't imagine his life without her.

When he told her that he had been thinking about eternity with her for years, he wasn't lying and he really couldn't remember the specific moment when he had had that epiphany. He felt like it had always been her that mattered.

And maybe his proposal was not as he had dreamed, but maybe that was the secret. All it took was the two of them doing 'Their Thing That Works' to make a supposedly not unusual and not overly thought out proposal be unusual and the way it should be. Just theirs without all the noise and talk.

He felt the small person in his arms move so he looked at her. He smiled and kissed her neck.

- 'Good morning, my fiancé,' she whispered without opening her eyes yet and Jay's heart stopped to start faster. She's going to drive him crazy someday. He thought and kissed her again but this time on the cheek.

- Good morning, my fiancée - he whispered wrapping her in his arms so he could kiss her properly.

- Did that really happen yesterday? - Hailey asked putting her hand on the man's cheek and a smile wandered across her face.

- Mhmm, yes you proposed to me and I said yes - he replied with the same smile and pulled her even tighter to him.

- Fact - she laughed into his chest and feeling grateful that Jay didn't see her blushing. Hailey as she remembered thought it was the craziest idea ever. She had been so terrified after everything that had happened in that warehouse that her only clear thought had just been Jay and that she only wanted to be with him. Her first thought after saying those words in front of Jay was that he would say no and that would be the end of it, and when he didn't answer anything she felt even weirder and the whole situation with Roy.

Then his positive answer and then this time his statement was the last thing on her mind at that moment.

It was like she was in a dream and still it was all not getting to her.

- But you proposed too, and I said yes," she said lifting her head to look into his green eyes.

Jay put a strand of her hair behind her ear and with a big smile and still with tears in his eyes he bent down to bring their lips together.

- How did I ever deserve you? - he whispered against her lips.

- I don't know, maybe with those good waffles and coffee - she replied shrugging her shoulders and drawing stencils from his jaw to his neck and chest.

- I got the message. - Laughed Jay, kissing the top of her head. - And as much as I'd love to make you the first breakfast in bed today as my bride, we did arrange for Will and I to have breakfast today, remember?

- Oh crap actually. Is today the opening of that new breakfast place? - She asked a little disappointed that he was running away from her.

- Mhmm - he muttered.

- All right, what time should we be there? - She asked kissing Jay's neck. He might not get breakfast in bed tonight, but maybe he would get something else.

- O 10? - Jay feeling Hailey's lips on his neck could barely concentrate.

- What time is it now? - she asked without stopping the kisses.

- Mmm - Jay had to pull his neck out to see the time, which forced Hailey to stop. - 7:23, we still have plenty of time. - He replied, and knowing what was going through that gorgeous blonde's head, Jay nipped at her lips with a sly grin.

✾✾✾

- Do you think Will will be very angry? - Hailey asked nervously looking ahead as she and Jay drove to breakfast together. They were quite late, but it was Hailey's opinion that it was all Jay's fault for not wanting to let her go, although she would be lying if she said she protested too much.

- Maybe a little, he'll harbor a redheaded nature, but once he gets his food and finds out about our engagement he should be over it pretty quickly. - He replied with a laugh.

- Do you think so? - Hailey although she was trying to be serious and really cared that the older of the Halsteads wasn't offended at them couldn't help but laugh when she imagined the look on Will's face when they told him.

Hailey looked at Jay who was focused on the road and an even bigger smile appeared on her face. So many hours had passed since Jay had knelt down in front of her, and she still couldn't believe it was happening for real.

She never thought there would be someone in her life who would love her in spite of everything and above all else. She didn't know if she would ever deserve true love, but everything changed when Jay came into her life.

- I love you Jay - those three words had become so natural to Hailey, and yet she still felt excitement every time she said them.

- I love you Hailey - Jay saying looked up at her and put his right hand out, so he could grab her left and intertwined their fingers.

The blonde looked at their hands, and she couldn't feel happier than at this moment and with this man.

✾✾✾

- The big one didn't make it? - indignantly spoke up Will as soon as Jay and Hailey crossed the threshold of the breakfast bar.

- We sorry. - Hailey was the first to speak up when she sat down at the table.

- Can I know the reason? - asked the older Halstead brother curiously looking at his two companions, but noticing the reddened cheeks on their faces and the smiles they were sending out, he regretted asking the question. - You know what I don't want to know, he waved his hand and reached quickly for the menu to hide his embarrassment.

Hailey and Jay seeing the doctor's behavior only laughed and also reached for the menu.

✾✾✾

- I'll tell you how delicious those pancakes were - Hailey put down the cutlery and leaned against the back of the chair she was sitting on.

- Better than mine? - said Jay, leaning back in his chair and looking at his fiancée defiantly.

- Mmm well... I mean - Hailey straightened up at the look on her fiancé's face - I love your breakfast and your pancakes are delicious, but these were delicious too. - She explained quickly hiding her forming smile.

This man will drive her to passion.

- You're lucky I'm marrying you," he leaned closer to the blonde, "because I'll have all eternity to prove to you that my pancakes are the best in the world," he whispered in Hailey's ear, so Will wouldn't hear. The woman had to bite her lip to keep from laughing out loud, and then Jay, not caring about the people in the restaurant, kissed Hailey.

- God you guys are awful - Jay and Hailey pulled away rolling their eyes with laughter hearing Will's indignant groan.

- And you've gotten awfully embarrassing - laughed his brother Jay getting a roll of his eyes.

- Okay boys I'll go to the bathroom quickly and we can get going - she said laughing at her brothers.

- Okay but come back quick - said Jay causing laughter from his wife who got up and walked towards the bathroom.

- You guys are really getting more and more unbearable by the day, Will said, drawing the attention of his brother, who kept looking in the direction Hailey had gone. Jay couldn't help it that even in a regular restaurant he had to be 100% sure that his beloved was safe. It's already a habit he hasn't been willing to unlearn.

- Gosh and you're really getting grumpier by the day, the brunet bit back.

- God. - Will rolled his eyes at his brother. He took a large sip of his coffee mug to his lips and put it down, turning back to his brother. - Something makes me feel like I'm probably going to have to pull my mom's engagement ring out of the depths of the dresser and just count down to the time you propose to her.

Jay hearing his brother's words almost choked on his own coffee trying to stop himself from telling the truth. He turned towards the bathrooms checking to see if Hailey was coming back. He didn't want to tell the story without her presence.

- Are you okay Jay? - Will asked concerned.

- Yeah, just - he coughed - I won't be needing that ring anymore.

- What do you mean, you haven't gotten married yet, did you? - asked Will jokingly, but when Jay didn't laugh he widened his eyes and opened his mouth wider. - What? How? When? Why? What? - Will knew that Jay had completely lost his head for the petite blonde detective and with reciprocation, but he hadn't expected such revelations so soon.

- Hey slow down man - laughed Jay at his brother's reaction. - First of all, I'd rather talk about this with Hailey, but since you brought it up yourself, tough. - started the brunet, still unable to stop laughing at his older brother's embarrassment. - Secondly, I proposed last night, and to tell you the truth, she proposed to me first.

- What? - the still surprised doctor couldn't make out the words. - Never mind, it's long story and just Hailey and my story - he stuck his tongue out at his brother. Jay couldn't stop grinning at the memory of those moments. He knew his brother was curious about all the details, but Jay wanted them to stay just for him and Hailey and didn't want to reveal anything to anyone, not even his older brother. What's between him and that gorgeous blonde is so special and just them that he didn't see the need to tell about it. - And to your question 'why?' the answer is simple. I love this woman madly and after everything we both went through before, and now I can't imagine my life without her. These few months with her have shown me that I don't need to procrastinate anymore, that we have already procrastinated too long anyway, so I just said what I felt, knelt down and asked myself if she wanted to spend life with me. She said yes, and since yesterday I am the happiest man in the world. - He said, not ashamed of the tears of joy that appeared in his eyes at that memory.

- Wow, I don't know what to say, little brother," he said, still shocked but also visibly happy and proud of his brother Will. - I'm proud of you and happy for you guys.

- Thanks man - replied smiling widely Jay.

- What about the ring, I haven't seen any on Hailey's finger - Will asked, completely forgetting about his coffee.

- Ammm, because it's not here yet. - said Jay uncertainly. - I didn't want to give Hailey our mom's ring because somehow it's unlucky for us - he pointed at his brother and himself. - And besides, I want Hailey to get something special, something that we can associate with this special event and only us, not Erin or Natalie. And most of all, I want to give Hailey a ring that she deserves, that reflects how much I love her and how special she is to me. - Jay concluded. There was silence around the table for a moment. Jay was still reliving the events of last night vividly, and Will couldn't get over how his brother had matured over the years.

- Jay - Will spoke up after a moment, drawing his younger brother's attention to himself. - I'm proud of you. - He said, looking into Jay's eyes, who nodded approvingly. - And I know our parents would be too, especially mom.

- Do you think so? - asked a hopeful Jay.

- I'm sure of it - nodded Will with a confident tone. - Thanks Will - smiled with thankfully Jay.

- What did I miss? - Hailey suddenly appeared at the table and watched one brother or the other with curiosity.

- Nothing much - Will was the first to speak up, getting up from the table and approaching the woman. - Welcome to the family, future sister-in-law - he embraced a surprised Hailey, who looked at Jay and asked for an explanation without speaking out loud.

Jay just smiled, and that was enough for Hailey to guess that Will had found out about the engagement. There was nothing left for her to do but smile gratefully and return the hug.

- Thank you, Will - she said, close to tears and feeling the tension coming off that she didn't even know she felt.

Looking at the two people closest to him, Jay smiled and thought that he had always dreamed of having such a family and that he was really happy.

He also knew that Will was right, his mother and even his father would not only be proud of him but would love Hailey.

He looked out the window and looked at the blue sky and smiled.

Yes, without a doubt, Hailey would earn their adoration.

[astralkoo]

the huntress | jungkook (teaser)

Pairing: jungkook x (f.) reader

Genre: werewolf au, hunter au, action, thriller, angst, fluff, smut

Rating: 18+ (graphic violence / explicit sexual content)

Estimated Final Word Count: 15-20k??? Maybe more bc it’s already at 7.4k and I haven’t even fully hit on the main plot yikes

Teaser Word Count: 1,780

Summary: You are a hunter. You are a protector. And you are a killer. These are simple facts. Facts that have been drilled into your head since you were a child. These facts are all that you know, all that you can rely on when the world around you is constantly changing. But, what can you do when one of the very creatures you’ve been taught to hunt, taught to kill, taught to hate makes you question everything you once believed?

Warnings: explicit language, descriptions of blood, graphic violence, death, killing/murder, jk is kept in a cage, panic attack, betrayal, sad jk, explicit sexual content; sex in a lake, unprotected sex (please be safe!!), sub!jungkook, dom!reader, virgin!jungkook, lots of whining, light dirty talk, hand job, fingering, jk has a kissing kink, oral (f. receiving), biting, reader calls jk puppy (all warnings are subject to change)

Release Date: TBD

A/N ; ah shit here we go. she’s been coming along pretty smoothly, so I thought it was the right time put the teaser out for you guys! I’m really excited to get the full fic posted and hopefully it won’t be too far in the future, but with my track record... I can make no guarantees. thank you for 1.4K followers!! I hope you enjoy!

You felt it building in your chest, swelling into something large and uncontainable. The sensation creeping up your throat, filling the back of your mouth and forcing open your jaws. Tears sprung to the corners of your eyes and your dry lips strained as they stretched open, the monstrous yawn finally breaking free.

Fuck. You are so tired.

It had been an exhausting day to begin with and of course, with your luck, it was your turn to take the night watch.

Around you, the forest was alive: crickets and cicadas singing lazy songs, the warm summer breeze rustling through the leaves, the waning moon casting a cool silver glow over the sleeping earth. Beside you, the dying remains of a bonfire flickers and spits blazing embers, choking and fading with every gust of wind. The darkness is slowly closing in, the eerie shadows of the surrounding trees creeping closer and closer with every passing minute.

Gravity pulled at your eyelids, the sweet lure of sleep all too tempting.

Crack.

You shot upright, eyes wide and alert, ears straining. It was too dark to see past the outer layer of trees, and a heavy silence followed, only remedied by the soft crackling of the singed wood. There’s a familiar prickle under your skin, the hairs on the back of your neck standing on end. It’s dark, but you don’t need to see to know that there is something out there. Call it a self-made sixth sense if you will, something you’ve developed and trained into perfection over the course of many years.

Instinctively, your fingers reached for your bow. The sleek black metal scraped against the large stone it was propped up on as you swiftly and silently fall into position. Unsheathing an arrow from the leather quiver, you pull it back against the string until you feel that perfect tension. The side of your thumb caresses the cool skin of your cheek, and you close one eye, honing in on the dark tree line.

Come on. Give me a reason.

But you’re only rewarded with silence.

After a few tense moments, you slowly lowered your weapon, brow twitching in irritation.

“Get a grip, y/n.” You grumbled roughly.

You were on edge. It’s understandable; you were in completely unfamiliar territory, with no reliable knowledge of the land or its inhabitants to lean back on. The knowledge which you did have, however (that being the knowledge that the nearby town had been getting ravaged by a bloodthirsty beast under the cover of nightfall), didn’t ease the tension in your shoulders in the slightest.

After all, that was the whole reason for your troop’s relocation.

A little over three weeks ago, the head of your troop received a letter from a desperate mayor, pleading for your help. They had a problem. Almost every night for the past month, towns people that wandered the streets late into the evening when the sun had set behind the hills and the moon had risen past the horizon, whether it be walking home from a long day of work or going for an evening jog when the summer heat wasn’t so unbearable, had been getting killed. No, not killed— slaughtered.

You’d seen the pictures.

No human being was capable of doing what had been done to those people.

Ergo, the exigency for your troop’s presence.

This town didn’t need cops, they didn’t need police or detectives searching for some rampant serial killer. What they needed were hunters. More specifically, werewolf hunters. Which is precisely what you were. ‘Slayers of the Supernatural’, some might say. Your job was simple: find the murderous creature responsible for the bloody deaths of thirty seven innocent civilians, and eliminate the problem, once and for all. Pretty cut and dry when you think about it.

And for a troop as skilled and experienced as yours, finding and ending this bloodthirsty beast should be a cinch.

But, that didn’t make sitting out, so painfully alone in the dark of night with a killer werewolf on the loose any less unnerving.

Now, you weren’t afraid of the monster itself, you’d held your own against its kind and worse plenty of times in the past. No, it was the deafening silence that was most disquieting. The stillness. The lack of happening. It set you on edge, made it feel like you had to hold your breath to get the slightest idea of what was going on around you. The wait had always been your least favorite part of the hunt, despite it being one of the most vital.

You’ll admit, you can be impatient. It was your most notable cause of failure back in your training days and in some of your earlier hunts. But you’ve gotten better, become capable of capping your overzealous antics, improved in terms of self restraint. Though, you’d still much rather be in the heart of the action than sitting on the sidelines and waiting with buzzing anticipation nipping at your heels.

Exhaling heavily, you slumped back onto the ground, exhaustion quickly seeping back into your sore muscles once the brief flush of adrenaline drained from your system.

Then you heard the rustling of leaves. But this— it was different from the sound made when the breeze wisps through them. There was a certain force to it, a heaviness in the way the branches clicked and the leaves crunched. It was the sound of a body moving through the heavy foliage. A large animal? Maybe. Or perhaps it was something else entirely. Not human. Not an animal. But something in between.

Your hand was around the grip of your bow in less than a second, body swiftly falling into a low crouch.

It was dark. But the moon spilled just enough light over the forest for you to catch a glimpse of a silhouette: a tall, dark shape moving slowly through the brush. You had your mark. Now you just needed a reason to loose your arrow.

Never strike without absolute certainty that you have your eye on the right target. That’s what Junmyeon always drilled into your head during training after you attacked too early and without proper understanding of who (the dummy representing an innocent civilian, in such cases) you’d been aiming at. Because if you somehow mistook an innocent for one of the beasts you hunt— it was a thought you didn’t want to so much as consider.

Teeth gritting, you carefully followed the shadowy figure, feet shifting silently across the dirt. Suddenly, your boot clad toe suddenly knocked a pebble, sending it skittering across the ground. You froze, and so did the silhouette. Then its head whipped in your direction, and the very second you saw the flash of two unmistakable red eyes, your fingers released the taut string, sending the arrow whizzing into the tree line.

A shriek of agony ripped through the calm night air. The figure staggered, doubling over, before quickly righting itself and whirling around, taking off into the dense, black forest.

You didn’t let so much as a fraction of a second pass before you launched yourself off the dirt ground and bolted into the woods after the creature, a delicious combination of red hot adrenaline and childlike excitement immediately consuming you. It was this— this feeling, this exhilaration that you lived for. That you hunted for. It drove you in ways nothing else ever had. The combination of blood rushing through your veins and your heart thundering in your ears created an almost euphoric sensation. It was a high, thrilling and electrifying. But perhaps those weren’t quite the right words to describe it.

Maybe it was the fact that for these moments as you were rushing through the brush, low branches slicing at your arms and face, cool wind winding through your hair, you could clear your mind and focus only on this one thing, on putting every ounce of your energy into this one moment to accomplish this one feat. There wasn’t— there couldn’t be a single invading thought, doubt, concern. There was nothing but boiling determination, molten in your bloodstream.

Ahead of you, the creature rushed frantically through the dense forest, weaving and staggering around the bulging trunks of towering trees. It was trying to lose you. But you excelled when it came to the chase. The fact that it was wounded also helped; the dark red blood stained the leaves and mossy earth, leaving a clear path for you to follow.

You were catching up, the distance between you and it growing smaller and smaller with each moment. You could hear the creature's heavy footfalls, the crunching of leaves and snapping of twigs. Within a few strides, you were within arms distance. If you were to reach out your hand—

Just as your fingertips grazed its back, you broke through the tree line. The creature, caught off guard, stumbled. A fatal mistake. Before it had a chance to recover, you rammed your shoulder into its back, directly between its shoulder blades, sending it stumbling forward with a stunned yelp. You hadn’t even noticed the massive body of water until he fell into it. Always be aware of your surroundings, you reminded yourself sharply, before honing in on your target. The water, reflecting the night sky like a mirror, rippled and spat around the form of the creature as it attempted to scramble away from you. But you didn’t let it get far.

You thrust yourself on top of him, pinning his kicking legs down with your own and making a grab for his flailing arms. A sharp hiss rushed past your teeth when you felt something slice into your arm, but you paid no heed to the warm, familiar trickle of blood. It only fueled the roaring fire of determination inside of you further. He was bucking up, thrashing wildly, trying to throw you off, but you held fast, angling yourself in such a way that you had the upper hand. Icy water splashed across your face, seeping into your clothes as you used all your strength to keep him down. But it wasn’t easy fighting a werewolf with your bare hands. Not even a wounded one. And you were quickly growing sick of feeling the piercing sting of his claws cutting through your clothes and biting into your skin.

In one swift motion, you unsheathed the silver blade hidden in a pouch sewn into the inside of your boot. Every muscle in his body froze up at the feeling of cold metal pressing threateningly against his vulnerable throat.

Panting through clenched teeth, you pinned him with a chilling glare.

“Give me one reason why I shouldn’t slit your throat.”

[chaoticpuff17]

Something Wicked

part 10

masterlist

Jin had become a little less volatile in the following days, but he had become almost unbearably smothering when he wasn’t disappearing into his office to take mysterious phone calls. He always seemed to be touching her, kissing her. The man was practically glowing with excitement, and his excitement never boded well for her. She tried at least to enjoy the relative peace while it lasted. He hadn’t tried to initiate anything either. It was a relief for her. There was a lot she could put up with, mostly because she had to, but that was not something she wanted to give to Jin.

She had never like Kim Seokjin. He was not a good man, even before this, but now, she firmly believed that he was the devil. What else could he be? He was the subject of nightmares, the creature that mothers warn their children about. He was the monster her parents had warned her about. She should have gotten away when she’d had the chance. She should have quit all those years ago when she first realized how horrible he was to work with. None of this ever would have happened if she’d taken the job in the first place.

Her father had always taught her to try to find the good in any situation, but she couldn’t find any here. There was no good to be found in Kim Seokjin. In a way she was glad that her father was dead. She would have hated for him to see how far she had fallen. He’d always wanted a good life for her. Maybe if Jin wasn’t psychotic, and they had met in a different life one where Jin had wooed her like a normal man, he could have provided that for her. There was no chance of that now though. Jin had taken everything from her. He’d taken her freedom, her dignity. She had a sneaking suspicion that he had been behind Minseok’s demise. And now, he was going to permanently tie them together.

Jin had presented her with a ring as gaudy as he was, happily slipping it onto her finger gripping her hand a little too tightly for the gesture to be sweet. The large diamond was prominently sat in the middle of a platinum band with two smaller baguette diamonds on either side of the central emerald cut stone. It was a hard piece of jewelry to ignore. Every time she moved it caught the light drawing her eye down to the horrid thing. Jin was so proud of it. He declared it worthy of the future Mrs. Kim, but she detested it. Every time she looked at it, it made her stomach turn. She wanted to chuck it over the balcony and down to the busy streets below, but she refrained too frightened of what Jin would do to her if she did so.

He’d brought in a team of ladies to primp and poke her into the image of Kim Seokjin’s wife, as well as a team to groom poor Jinnie, but not before thoroughly threatening her. Jin couldn’t risk her asking for help. He couldn’t risk his image as Seoul’s golden boy. He was perfect, and his future wife had to be too.

Every time she thought of his dead eyed smile as he’d spoken to her, as he’d threated to kill Jinnie, to hurt her, a shudder went down her spine. It had been a struggle for her to keep quiet when the ladies had been there fixing her hair and doing her nails. Even if she had wanted to speak up, Jin was always there leisurely seated a few feet away giving instructions to the ladies. He wanted her to be perfect, his version of perfect. Her hair was styled to his specifications. Her nails were shaped and painted in a demure neutral color, because the wife of Kim Seokjin was to be a perfectly demure lady, and she hated it. She had never been a very vibrant woman. She’d always been a little softer, a little more neutral, but something about that fact that it was now being dictated to her made her hate it.

She was filled with the urge to take a pair of kitchen scissors and cut off all of her hair. She wanted to paint her nails a violent shade of pink just to spite him, but how could she? He was always there, always hovering over her shoulder. He was so thrilled with the idea of their wedding, and she had never dreaded anything more.

He was almost manic in his excitement. He was constantly bringing her wedding magazines forcing her to choose between preapproved flowers, colors, food. There was nothing that wasn’t already Jin’s choice, not that she really wanted to be involved in wedding planning. She knew what would happen once the wedding took place. She’d be legally tied to Jin in the eyes of the law and the eyes of the public. There would be no escape for her, not that there was much chance now.

She’d learned a lot about Jin during her captivity. She’d always known him to be meticulous, a perfectionist, but there was something about seeing him in all his psychotic glory that stripped her of all hope. He was almost obsessive, no, he was obsessive. Every detail of her captivity was planned just as every detail of their wedding was planned. There was nothing she could do to fight against him, not when he held all the cards.

“Hello, my darling.” Jin greeted her placing a kiss to her forehead. She was getting better at accepting his displays of affection, or she was had been well trained. Any rejection of Jin was met with violence so she kept herself calm. She kept herself gentle and passive just as Jin wanted her.

“How has your day been?” He asked sinking down to sit next to her.

“It’s been fine.” She smiled setting her book aside. She wasn’t allowed to do other things when Jin wanted her attention. Her focus was always to be on him. He was a narcissist at heart. Everything had to be about Jin. “Do you have anything you want me to look over?” She asked. Jin wanted her active and excited in the wedding planning, so she pasted on a smile and pretended as best she could if only to keep him calm.

“No, darling.” He cooed smiling gently as he played with her hair. “Not right now, we have almost everything decided. It won’t be long now.”

A thought she dreaded.  Marriage to Jin was the last thing she wanted, but it wasn’t as though he was giving her a choice.

“What’s that?” She asked looking at the file resting on his other side. If he’d brought it instead of taking it directly to the office, it had to have something to do with her.

He smiled picking up the file and opening it up. “This? This is your medical file, darling.”

She froze dread filling her. What could he possibly want with her medical records? How had he even gotten them? She wasn’t sure who to be more upset with, Jin or her doctor, but the likelihood of her ever seeing the doctor of her choice again was slim. It would probably be Jin’s choice from now on. He was an overbearing bastard.

“We’ll have to get your IUD removed.” He mused flipping through the pages. “We’ll be needing an heir, and that pesky little thing will get in the way.” He looked back at her gently brushing a stray strand of hair out of her face. “But we can take care of that after the wedding. I want to enjoy you before we have a son.” He leaned in nipping at her ear.

“A baby?” She whimpered doing her best not to flinch away from him.

“Of course, darling.” He chuckled trailing light kisses down her neck. “Mother and father are anxious for grandchildren as well. Seokjung won’t be much help to them in that regard.”

She stiffened even more at the mention of his brother. It was rare for Jin to bring him up. Not many people even knew the fate of the older Kim brother, but she had been working with Seokjin for years. She’d even met the man a few times, quite the feat considering how the family kept him away from the eyes of the public. The poor man wasn’t even mentioned with the rest of the family, not since the accident.

Kim Seokjung was set to inherit the company until there was a skiing accident when the brothers were in high school. Seokjung had ended up paralyzed from the waist down and had become effectively useless in the eyes of his upper crust family. He received the best of care, but his life was essentially over. Seokjin had risen as the only son and heir of the Kim family.

Of the two, Seokjung was definitely her favorite. He was a pleasant man, far more pleasant than the rest of his family and surprisingly optimistic considering the life he’s been thrust into. Assistants had no place in private family matters, but Jin had insisted on bringing her to the family home on more than one occasion, and that was where she had met Seokjung.

She first encountered him in the kitchen in the family home. To say that both of them had been surprised would have been an understatement. She had only been working for Seokjin for a year, and she had never heard mention of a brother, but they’d quickly settled into conversation seated at the little breakfast nook in the vast kitchen with a cup of tea that Seokjung had made for them himself. There wasn’t much for him to keep himself occupied now that he was effectively under house arrest by his own family, but he was excellent at making tea. He was also an amateur chef. She loved talking to him. The few times she had met him were the highlight of her time working with Jin.

One thing that never made sense to her was the accident. Both Seokjin and Seokjung were very athletic back in the day. Seokjin was still athletic. One of the things that the Kim family excelled at was winter sports. Seokjin preferred to snow board, but from what she had heard, Seokjung was quite the accomplished skier. They’d been to that resort hundreds of times. He’d skied those hills all his life. The conditions hadn’t even been bad on that fateful day, but something had gone wrong, so wrong that Seokjung no longer had the use of his legs. Now knowing Jin more, she now had to wonder if he had had something to do with the accident. She wouldn’t put it past him, not now.

“Wouldn’t that be nice, darling?” Jin cooed bringing her back to the present as he nuzzled into her neck. “A little son.”

“I don’t… I’m not…” He breath hitched as Jin nipped at her neck more harshly.

“You’re not what, darling?”

“I’m not ready for children.” She whispered trembling as she waited for Jin’s reaction.

Jin pulled away staring her down before a grin stretched across his features. “Not to worry, darling. We can wait a little before we start our family. I want to enjoy you first.” He purred nipping her neck again.

“No, Jin.” She whispered pushing him away gently. “I don’t want children.”

She had always been on the fence about kids. It was the biggest fight that she and Minseok had ever had. He’d wanted a houseful of them. She wasn’t even sure she wanted them. She’d never had siblings, and she’d cared for two ailing parents in her life. Kids had never really crossed her mind, but she knew she definitely didn’t want them with Jin. She doubted she had much choice on that either, but she had to try.

Jin frowned before pasting on an indulgent smile. “Two I think. Two boys. Doesn’t that sound nice, darling?”

“I don’t…”

Jin cut her off his smile becoming more strained, his eyes darkening. “You don’t know what you want, darling. That’s why you have me.” He pet her hair his tone taking on a condescending air.

“Jin…”

“My poor stupid darling.” He cooed pulling her up onto his lap, wrapping his arms around her tightly. “How did you ever survive without me?” She grit her teeth restraining herself from snipping at him. She’d gain nothing from upsetting him even more than she already had. “Don’t worry, darling. By this time next week, we’ll be married, and you’ll never have to worry again. Daddy will take care of you.”

Yes, that was exactly what she was afraid of.

part 11

[bookstantrash]

A/N: Shoutout to all of those beautiful, incredible supportive and awesome people who encouraged me to write this Emeriel (Azriel x Emerie) one shot. I really like this crackship, and I’m hoping we see more of Emerie in the next acotar books.

With this, I’m officially in ghost mode till acosf and for some time after its release (probably a month). My askbox and dm are open for prompts tho! So feel free to send me any writing requests!!

Falling in Shadows

Azriel was lost.

Not lost as in ‘I don’t know the Cauldron where I am’. Not in the physical way lost.

No, Azriel was lost in the emotional way. Lost as in ‘What the Cauldron I am feeling?’

If he was to be honest with himself, he had been feeling like that for quite some time now. Ever since Cassian had asked him to go to that wooden building and spied a certain female through the clothier’s window.

Azriel was usually uncomfortable around other Illyrians. He sometimes forgot he too was one, his hatred for his people in some occasions being so unbearable he found himself a youngling once again, locked in that dark cell, denied the skies.

How could he be an Illyrian, feel like one, when his own people had cast him aside? Had tried to strip him of his heritage?

That was one of the motives he avoided going to Windhaven. But after that day he visited Cassian and Nesta — he was surprised to see how their relationship was going, despite the circumstances that had made Nesta go to Illyria — Azriel found himself looking for reasons to be in Windhaven.

All because of her.

Because of Emerie, the fierce owner of that clothier.

Once he had gotten inside the shop, Azriel had willed his shadows to fade — few were the Illyrians and Fae not afraid of them, afraid of him and his job in the Night Court — and tucked his wings tight. He knew how the Illyrian females were treated. How they were supposed to look down and not talk back when in the presence of a male. He didn’t want any other reason to scary the shop owner.

To his surprise, however, he was met with a different scenario. An Illyrian female who didn’t look down, was not afraid to speak her mind and didn’t cower in his presence.

Emerie didn’t even bat an eyelash at him or his shadows, not even glancing at his scarred hands when he handed her the money — an act he was already used to.

Azriel was in and out of the shop in less then five minutes.

He met her again some time later, having tea with Nesta when came back to Windhaven. They exchanged a few words and he got even more curious about her.

And then, before he had even noticed how, they had become friends.

Azriel would pass by her shop whenever he went to visit Cassian and would chat with Emerie, sometimes joining her and Nesta for tea — Azriel dragged Cassian with him when that happened, a little scared to be beneath the sharpe of gaze of both females by himself.

Not that he told Cassian, or anyone else for that matter, the truth. He’d rather swim naked in one of Windhaven’s deathly cold lakes.

Azriel had female friends, so it was not like he was embarrassed around Emerie because of that. Feyre was his friend, as was Elain — although Feyre seemed to think there was something between him and her sister, they were only on friendly terms. Elain was still processing what had happened to her, being Made and losing everything she had, not to mention Graysen. The man was one of the finest pricks he’d ever met, but love was not rational.

Azriel and Elain understand each other in some level, her being a seer and him a shadowsinger. But nothing more.

And then there was Morrigan. He’d been in love with her. Once. And he knew she didn’t see him like that.

His feelings had faded over time, leaving only respect and brotherly affection towards her. Azriel knew he sometimes overreacted when it came to Eris, but it was not due to a lover’s anger. No, he felt guilty of what Mor had been through, years ago. He was her friend and couldn’t help her when she needed the most.

His love towards Mor may have changed, but it still hurt to see that she was keeping something from him and flirted so shameless in front of him as to keep him away. Whatever it was that she had to say, he’d understand. So he’d wait, until she was ready to talk to him.

When it came to Emerie, however, he felt something. Something different. Something he could not quite place.

Azriel also felt fear.

Fear of what that feeling may represent. Of what Emerie thought of him. He had to keep himself in check around her, least he loose control of his shadows, who always seemed to get agitated whenever they were together.

Sighing, he shook his head to try and rid himself of these thoughts. He could feel an headache coming, and he had to wake up early to met Cassian and the Camp Lords for a meeting regarding the Blood Rite. He needed sleep.

His feet, on the other hand, had other ideais. Before he knew what he was doing, they had taken him on the way to the small craftsman center of the camp, where Emerie’ shop was.

Maybe he could say he had thought of saying a quick hello, see how the things were going with her sells.

“It’s not that late yet. And I didn’t come today to see her. So a late night tea won’t hurt, right?” Azriel thought, trying to calm himself down.

He sent one of his shadows ahead to see if there was any light on the clothier, just in case. If it was off, he’d take it was a sign to leave it alone and go rest.

But when it returned, Azriel felt his blood run cold, and he quickly moved through the shadows to get there faster. And the scene in front of him made his heart stop.

The shop windows were broken, as was the door, and he could see some of the clothes thrown on the floor by the door.

Azriel heard screams.

Heard Emerie screaming.

He entered the shop to find her being restrained by a male, while two others ransacked the place.

Azriel did not fail to notice how the male holding her looked pissed. Maybe due to his bloody nose and black eye.

Azriel smiled internally. His girl would not go down without a fight it seemed.

“And just what do you think you’re doing” he said, announcing his presence.

Four pairs of eyes looked in his direction, and he got smug satisfaction at the clear fear that shined in the males’ eyes.

Specially when they saw Azriel unsheathing Truth Teller and gave free rein to his shadows.

However, in Emerie’s dark brown eyes he only saw relief.

“Close your eyes Em” he said.

And then Azriel exploded.

He had the two males pinned down by his shadows in no time, bounding their wings and squeezing their throats strong enough to leave them breathless.

And a little purple.

But the one that held Emerie... that one he would take his sweet time.

Appearing behind the male — which quickly released Emerie in hope to attempt an escape — Azriel slammed him down in the polished counter.

“What should I do with you” he snarled, bringing Truth Teller dangerously close to the male’s throat, making a thin cut in his skin.

“P-please,” the male whimpered “have mercy”

“Did you show mercy to her? Did you?!” Azriel shouted, pressing the knife harder “I should Clip you. I should Clip all of you and take my sweet time doing it”

He heard the other two males struggling against his shadows, trying to get away again. Azriel only whiled them to tighten their grip, and he swore he heard one start to cry.

“You will never appear here again. You will not bother Emerie any longer” he leaned down to whisper in the male’s ear “You will tell that to your other friends. To anyone who has ever messed with her. And if I hear that you came back — and trust me, I will — I will hunt you down myself”

“Are we clear?” he added, letting his threat sink.

“Y—yes sir” the trembling male managed to gasp through Azriel’s hold on his neck.

“Go” he said, freeing all three, who quickly left the place, running for their lives.

Azriel then turned to find Emerie with her eyes open, staring at him.

He froze. She had seen him. Had seen him act as the High Lord’s spy master. Had seen him being territorial and scary and—

“I think I’ll have to redecorate” was all Emerie said, her voice trembling a little.

Azriel couldn’t believe it. She had been attacked, her shop destroyed and she had time to make a joke.

He shook his head in disbelief and stopped in front of her, holding himself back to not touch her to see if she was hurt anywhere.

“Are you—”

Her knees gave out before he could say anything else, and he quickly caught her in his arms.

“You put your arms around me and I literally felt my kneels buckle, this is so pathetic” she scoffed, looking at the floor.

“Em...”

“I usually can handle it on my own” she shook her head “Nesta taught me some self defense moves. I can’t leave the shop to go for the training ring and I have no desire to be a warrior”

“This...this was the first time that more than one came” she added in a soft whisper.

Azriel felt a calm rage settle in his bones.

“This is not the first time something like this has happened,” he wanted to shake her until she got some sense in that stubborn head of hers “and you didn’t tell anyone about it”

“As I said, I usually can handle it” she snapped back, finally meeting his eyes “I was closing the shop when they appeared. I tried to fight back, but I only managed to punch one before he restrained me. If you hadn’t appeared I—”

She didn’t finish that sentence, bitting her trembling lip to keep herself from crying.

“You are one headstrong and fearless female, you know that?” he said, daring to hold her closer.

“I was scared”

And to Azriel’s surprise she buried her head on his chest, gripping his leathers for her dear life, her body shaking with silent sobs.

“I know Em” he murmured, one hand caressing her hair in comfort.

His shadows closed the door and gathered the clothes on the floor, putting them on the counter.

“I’m going to take you upstairs, okay?” he asked softly, and Emerie just nodded her head.

Gathering her in his arms, Azriel climbed the stairs to the upper part of the shop, where Emerie lived.

He decided to place her on the sofa. He didn’t want to invade her personal space and walk into her bedroom.

He carefully sat on the sofa, adjusting Emerie in his arms so she’d be comfortable. By the looks of it, she wasn’t letting go of him soon.

Not that he was bothered by that.

“Em...it’s okay. You’re safe now” he tenderly raised her head, both hands cupping her cheeks and brushing away her tears.

“Thank you. For arriving when you did” she sniffed, but then reality seemed to fall on her “Why where you around here at this hour?”

Azriel felt the tip of his ears getting hot, and he almost faded back in the shadows.

“I wanted to see you” he mumbled, so low he hoped she had not heard him.

“What was that?” she asked, and by the way she was trying to suppress a grin Azriel could tell she had heard him loud and clear.

“I’m not repeating it” he said, feeling his whole face getting hot

Emerie laughed, and the sound of her laugh was enough to put Azriel at ease.

“I wanted to see you too” she confessed, looking deep into his eyes.

Azriel could swear his heart skipped a beat at her words.

“You did?” he softly asked, afraid this was all a dream and he’d soon wake up.

“Yes” she said, and tenderly took one of his hands on hers, not flinching at the scars on them “I wanted to hear your voice”

She kissed his fingers.

“I wanted to see you trying to come up with topics to talk with me”

She kissed palm.

“I wanted to see your shadows acting all agitated and you trying so hard to control them thinking I’ll be bothered but,” Azriel took a sharp breath when she kissed his wrist “they’re not a bother. I’m not afraid of them. I like them”

Azriel was falling. He was spiralling down into himself, all the way to his shadowed heart.

“You like them?” he asked so quietly, fear lacing his every word.

“I do. They’re part of you Azriel” she interlaced their hands “What is there not to like?”

Azriel felt like crying. He felt like crying because for the first time someone outside of his family had looked at him and actually seen him.

Not a monster who killed and spied and tortured for his High Lord.

Not an Illyrian who was a traitor to his own race.

Not the quiet friend who was satisfied to be in the shadows.

Not a protector doing his duty.

Emerie saw him.

She saw all the good, the bad and the awkward Azriel so desperately tried to conceal.

And she was not afraid.

“Can I hope then?” he dared himself to ask, resting his forehead against hers “Can I hope you feel this? This feeling that I can’t quite place?”

“You can” she answered “Because I hoped you felt the same thing”

Azriel still did not know how to name this feeling between them yet. But he was sure of one thing.

He was dying to know what it was.

And Emerie would help him in every path of this discovery.

•

Emeriel Tags: @julemmaes @angrypotatofairy @illyrianwitchling @moe8 @thewayshedreamed @ko0mbayamylord @rosegoldannie @fourshizzle149 @arin1030 @elide-lochan-salvaterre @the-bookish-deer

Fixed Tags: @sayosdreams @thewayshedreamed @sjm-things @perseusannabeth @arin1030 @caotica-e-quieta @vidalinav @swankii-art-teacher @ireallyshouldsleeprn @duskandstarlight @greerlunna @thegoddessaltenia @dayanna-hatter @verypaleninja @awesomelena555 @courtofjurdan @allilal @sensitiveillyrian @moe8 @illyrianwitchling13 @silvernesta @bri-loves-sunflowers @queenestarcheron @imwritingthesewords @vasudharaghavan

{I ended up creating an Emeriel tag list, so please let me know if you want to be added in either the Emeriel or my Fixed Tag list}

[ageofevermore]

Golden

summary → in which Harry doesn’t understand how he can possibly love such a small baby so painfully much. 

word count → 1.7k

note → this might require a few deep breaths because oh lord, i really laid the fluff down thick. 

add yourself to my taglist

When you and Harry had fallen pregnant it was unexpected. You had been talking about starting a family in the near future, but hadn't felt the need to fall in deep. You were aware of the problems you might face with natural conception, especially due to the stress of being employed by the entertainment industry, but just three days after your conversation, the both of you had gotten carried away in a moment of beautiful love.

You had been on birth control ever since your seventeenth birthday when your mother figured you might begin to explore your sexual desires. It was something she was quite open about, making it easier to tell her that you were seeing a green eyed wonder called, Harry.

It was just after a morning run through LA that you took a test. It was some cheap brand, an impulse buy after laying in bed worrying about your lack of protection weeks prior. You had been paranoid for days, your cycle abnormally long and lacking the usual symptoms of tension and muscle aches. Instead, you had full fledges cramps and headaches.

When the first test came back positive you almost fainted on the floor of your en-suite. Harry was just downstairs and heard the unusual commotion. You were usually light on your feet, a classically trained ballet dancer as a child. It was worrisome to find you doubled over on your hands and knees beside the tipped over nightstand. Harry had immediately rushed to your aid, collecting your frame in his hands and pressing soft kissing to your forehead until he could get your attention. Your eyes were dazed, hands balling into the fabric of his thick black jumper. You were completely beside yourself with joy.  

"What's a'matter, moppet?" He mumbled against your forehead, pulling your legs over his lap so her could bring you closer. He softly pried your hands away from his jumper, kissing your clenched knuckles fervently. "Scaring me, love. What's got you so worked up?"

The thought of the positive pregnancy test in your palm brought on a new wave of tears. The tip of your nose trembled as you broke into a wide grin, breaking down completely into Harry's chest with gleefully shocked giggled. Harry didn't waste a minute, wrapping his arms around your middle and pulling you closer to his chest. Your legs wrapped around him like a koala, but it only made this moment sweater for you. For now, you were the only one that knew about the growing baby making a home for itself inside of you. For years you had overlooked how special this moment would be.

"Pet." Harry cooed, bringing his fingers down your spine. The metal of his rings was cold when he lifted your shirt and tickled your back with scratches. "Gotta tell me what's got you so giddy."

Uncoordinatedly you smashed your lips against Harry's. Your teeth knocked against his harshly, but all you could manage was a smile that left his lips wet, "We're parents." Your whispered.

-

The end of your pregnancy was brutal, complete with unbearable braxton hicks and obscene swelling. You had been riddled with insomnia for weeks as well, and the throbbing in your fingers was brought on by the wedding band stuck between your knuckles that even elevation and heating pads couldn't help. Harry had done his absolute best to make you comfortable, but even his hour long foot rubs and 3am snack runs did little for you. None of that was relevant now, nor was the stitching holding your torn vagina together. Your baby, sweet Indie Anne Styles, was here. She was perfect, and she was finally before your eyes.

Her warm pink body was flush against your chest. Harry stood off to the side, tears blurring his vision as he took in the picture before him. His first true love was embracing their own little mini. He had no doubts that his little Indie was a product of the truest breed of young love. Indie, Harry wasn't so sure the big name fit her little body and button nose.

"Look at her, lovie." You sniffled, running your finger down her cheek. She had finally stopped wailing, settling into your warmth and letting herself fall asleep in your embrace. You were certain birth was tiring for babies, glad to see that your little love was resting up now and getting ready to experience the life you and Harry had shaped just for her. "She's perfect."

"Knew she would be, love." Harry came closer to the both of you, bending down to press a kiss to your sticky forehead. He loosely grabbed the newborns hand, chocking on a sob when she gripped his thumb. Her grip was tight for such a tiny human, and already Harry was sure he wouldn't be able to live every day with a heart so heavy with love.

Your husband was barely keeping himself together over your shoulder as he admired your daughter. You had gently coaxed a pacifier between her lips after watching her squirm, and the soft pink plastic only brought Harry a new wave of overwhelming love and protection. He never wanted anything to hurt his littlest love, his precious baby Indie.

"Thank you, pet." He cried into your crown, pressing gentle kissed to your hair and face at an uncomfortable angle. He didn't want to hurt you, but he needed to thank you for this moment. It was everything he had always dreamed of and so much more, "Thank you for her. Thank you."

-

It had taken Harry three weeks to call Indie her name, having a habit of referring to the newborn as 'his little angel'. You didn't mind the title, but hearing her name on the tip of his tongue made you weak. He had taken great to becoming a father, like you knew he would. You had never had any doubts about just how unconditionally Harry would love your little human. He was up with you during every feed, changing all the diapers until you were healed enough to bare standing at the change table for long stretches.

He bought only the best for his Indie too. Her nighttime routine was prepped with high end vegan moisturizers and ointments. Her diapers were made of organic, non toxic, vegan materials. He didn't care for prices, only quality. Harry was as relatively humble man. He never talked about wealth or thought it as anything valuable, but he also, despite what it seems, didn't splurge on high end products often. He had his limits and boundaries, but his money was used wisely and not thrown away on material. He refused to let Indie soak in a cheap diaper though, even when you assured him that most diapers were exceptionally made and there was no need to spend a few hundred dollars every month.

It didn't take long for Indie to form more defined features, one being her insanely bright blue eyes and thin strands of soft blonde hair. You weren't quite sure where your baby girl came from to be honest, seeing as your eyes weren't near the same shade of color as hers nor were Harry's. Her hair was ungodly as well. Almost like your favorite disney film, her locks were strikingly golden. It had only taken a month before you caught Harry above her crib, whispering a fond, "Good morning, golden girl."

Golden had been her name since that dewy spring morning. You couldn't see her as anything but, adoring the nickname Harry had brought upon the three of you. It was odd when you had family visiting and they would refer to your precious Golden as Indie.

It was just after two am when the shrill screams of your infant severed the sleep you and Harry were catching up on. His arm was thrown around your waist, and for a minute neither one of you moved. She was going through a growth spurt meaning the usually laid back baby you shared a house with was needy and desperate for her fathers attention and your satin milk. It was hard to give her what she wanted at times. You knew she was hungry, but she didn't want to leave Harry's arms.

That had happened just the other day. With the luck you were working on, you had forgotten to pack away another pre-made bottle. She was eating so frequently you hadn't had the need to pump, but that decision came back to bite you when she woke up from her nap hungry and only wanting her daddy. You both had eventually figured out a way to please her, but it had been frustrating and stressful on the three of you alike. It was safe to say you were always on top of bottles now.

When Harry finally did pull away from your warmth, he kissed your temple before feeling the room, not before you heard the last of his mutter, "I'm coming, Goldie."

You were sure your heart exploded in that moment. When you saw him again, this time with a squirmy baby impatiently suckling on the nipple of a pacifier, tears were gathering in your eyes. You smiled widely down at your little love, affectionately stroking her cheek. You settle her against your chest, wincing when she latches, but relaxing when her sucks become rhythmic and predictable.

In the darkness Harry couldn't make out your teary smile, instead just moving around the master and preparing another diaper for Goldie, having felt the wet one when he picked her up from the crib moments ago. He could hear you praising the baby for doing such a good job, promising that it was okay if she woke up every thirty minutes, but what caught him off guard was when you brushed your thumb over her cheek and whispered, "Look just as pretty as your Daddy, Goldie."

"Y'heard that, huh?" He stuttered. He knew you weren't too fond of the first few nicknames he had given Goldie, and he was almost fearful that you would reject his shortened version of Golden.

You rolled your eyes softly at his question, patting a patterned on your baby girl's diapered bottom as she nursed with sleepy eyes. "I think it's cute, fits her."

Harry smiled widely at the pair of you, the dim moonlight capturing the perfect moment in his memory. His love for you and Goldie somehow got deeper every day. He never wanted to leave this stripped down midnight moment. This perfectly golden moment.

[phoebenavarro]

the more things change

rarepair time! I have not known peace since mag117. feat backup archivist martin with beholding powers

the magnus archives, martinelias, 2100 words, warning for dubcon kissing

read on ao3 here

“Jon is in trouble,” Martin says as he bursts into Elias’s office. A few months ago, the concept of doing something so brazenly rude to Elias would have made him freeze on the spot. It’s funny how things change, Martin thinks bitterly, and how things stay the same. He’s still terrified of Elias, although now for completely different reasons.

“Martin,” Elias replies, “Come in. What can I do for you?” He glances up at Martin briefly before returning to his paperwork.

Martin’s brain stutters. He didn’t really think this through, and he didn’t expect Elias to be so nonplussed.

“Jon’s in trouble,” Martin repeats, some of his anxiety chased away by a need to do something slowly creeping back in, “and I’m worried,” he finishes, summoning back the indignation he feels towards Elias at all times lately.

“Did something in particular happen?” Elias asks, “Because ‘worried’ seems to be a constant state of being for you.” He sounds bored, and that makes Martin angry, angry that Elias clearly doesn’t care about Jon’s well-being, and deeper down, angry that Elias doesn’t take him seriously.

Martin scoffs, but he realizes he can’t really explain what actually brought him to Elias’s office. He clenches his jaw.

“I don’t know!” he grits out, “Jon was fine, on the bus in America, then he was at a rest stop and a woman came up to him and forced him into her car.”

That makes Elias look up, and his gaze is even more piercing than normal, like he’s trying to rip through Martin with his eyes.

“How did you know that?” Elias asks, his tone so severe that Martin folds in on himself.

“I-I don’t know!” he squeaks, and he frowns. He realizes he really doesn’t know how he knew that. “I just— I had a feeling, I guess…?” He trails off. Even he knows how weak that sounds.

“I don’t think you did,” Elias says, raising one of his perfect eyebrows at Martin, “You just knew, didn’t you?”

Martin stutters, trying to come up with some explanation, but he realizes that Elias is right. He just knew.

Fuck, Martin just knew. He sinks into the chair across from Elias, stunned. Elias’s face breaks out into a grin. He chuckles quietly.

“See, this is what I like about you, Martin. You don’t lie to yourself. Oh, you may spend all your time lying to everyone else, keeping them at arm’s length because you’re terrified they won’t like you if they get to know the real you, but you’re honest to yourself.”

Martin stares at Elias, thrown off-kilter by being told such intimate things about himself so matter-of-factly. He wonders if that’s how Elias sounded when he did whatever it was he did to Melanie. “W-what?”

Elias leans back in his chair, grinning. “You know, when I asked you to start recording statements, I never expected you to progress quite this quickly.”

Martin’s eyes harden. “Are you saying I have freaky eye powers now? Like Jon?” Of course Elias planned for this, wanted this, and Martin just went along with it. Elias stands and crosses to the other side of the desk, perching on it across from Martin.

“Not quite like Jon, no. Jon is the Archivist. I’m sure your own Becoming will be different.” Elias turns his gaze back to Martin, but this time it feels more appraising. Elias leans forward, and Martin feels cold dread pooling in his gut. “I’m actually quite pleased. This is a promising development.”

“R-right, but what does that actually mean, though?” Martin asks, trying to stay calm and refusing to think of the implications of him being able to just know things. Elias wants to knock him off balance, keep him a stammering mess so he won’t get any answers out of him. “Is this going to keep happening? Will I develop other… abilities?”

“Yes, it will keep happening as you get stronger. As for if you’ll gain more abilities, I don’t know, Martin.” He leans forward. “But I’ll enjoy watching.”

“O-Okay, but what does that mean? Practically? I mean, the Eye’s not giving me these powers out of the goodness of its heart. What do I have to do? Can I stop it?”

Elias smiles at him with an almost unbearable fondness, which Martin has never seen from him before, and it makes Martin uneasy. “I’m afraid there’s nothing you can do to stop it at this point,” he says, and Martin sighs. Figures. “You don’t need to be doing anything you won’t be doing already, just reading statements.”

“Right, as I become less and less human,” Martin spits.

“Being human isn’t everything, Martin. You’re not going to stop being yourself.” Elias’s smile turns cruel. “But maybe you’d like that, to stop worrying about being good and nice all the time. Doesn’t it get exhausting?” Elias asks conspiratorially.

Martin narrows his eyes at him, refusing to rise to the bait. “You knew about my CV the whole time, didn’t you,” Martin says. It’s not a question, but Elias answers anyway.

“Oh, yes,” he chuckles, “It’s why I hired you in the first place. It impressed me, honestly. Such a bald-faced lie, you were so terrified, but you barely even flinched. It was charming, really.”

“Charming,” Martin repeats skeptically.

Elias tsks. “Come now, Martin, I know you don’t think highly of yourself, but is it really so hard to believe that someone would find you charming?”

Martin seriously doubts that anyone has found him charming in his life. Cute, maybe, but charming? No.

“Why…” Martin begins, but he shakes his head, “It doesn’t matter. What about Jon?”

“What about him?”

“Is he in danger?”

“Almost certainly,” Elias smiles, “but he’s survived worse. You’ll just have to trust me.”

Martin starts laughing. “You— you cannot expect me to trust you, after you trapped all of us here, after you let Sasha get killed— for God’s sake, you admitted to murdering two people! And now! I’m getting monster powers because of you.”

Elias rolls his eyes. “Martin. Don’t start lying to yourself now. I gave you the push, but you embraced the Eye on your own.” He places his hand on Martin’s shoulder, his thumb resting against Martin’s neck in a possessive way that makes Martin’s heart skip a beat. “Your need to know more hasn’t been as fervent as Jon’s, but it’s there. You tell yourself it’s to help Jon, but really, it’s all you.”

Martin finds himself unable to move away, despite how much he wants to, almost hypnotized as Elias moves his hand up to cup Martin’s cheek. His breath catches in his throat. He has no idea the last time he was this close to someone, and even on his loneliest nights, he never thought Elias would be the next person to touch him like this.

Martin has no way of knowing if Elias is actually telling the truth, or if he’s just trying to manipulate him. Probably a bit of both, he thinks.

“I just don’t know how you can keep letting Jon get hurt,” Martin says, trying to push on like Elias is not tenderly cradling his face, “I mean, he’s your archivist, whatever that means. I’d think out of all of us, he’s the one you’d care what happens to.”

Elias sighs. “I don’t like it much either, but that’s how these things go. It’s necessary for Jon to grow into his potential.”

“So, what?” Martin stares at Elias defiantly, “You’re just going to leave us in the dark? Let us get killed? Do you care at all?”

Elias strokes Martin’s cheek with his thumb, and Martin shivers. “I am sorry about Sasha,” he says quietly, “I didn’t want that to happen to her.”

And Martin, God help him, believes Elias. Maybe that’s why he still doesn’t pull away when Elias’s other hand comes to rest at Martin’s hip, when he leans in to press his lips to Martin’s. Martin freezes as Elias kisses him, but Elias doesn’t seem bothered that Martin isn’t responding.

“What are you doing,” Martin breathes as Elias pulls away briefly.

“I thought that was obvious,” Elias quips, and he settles into Martin’s lap, straddling him. Martin makes a surprised noise, but he doesn’t push him away.

“Why, then?” Martin asks, looking at Elias warily.

Elias squeezes his hip. “Because you’re mine,” he says with a predatory glint to his eyes. Martin’s blood runs cold, and now he tries to push Elias away, but Elias’s grip on him tightens, and Martin can’t get the leverage he needs. “The others may also be tied to me, but none of them have embraced their roles like you have. It has been truly a pleasure to watch you come into your own over the years.”

Martin looks away, his eyes burning. He thinks about his younger self, when he started at the Institute. He had been absolutely terrified of Elias and the way he seemed to see right through him, but also because he thought Elias was gorgeous. He still does, he supposes, especially with Elias so close to him. They’re so far beyond that now; Martin wishes Elias was just a normal, intimidatingly handsome boss. Elias brushes one of Martin’s curls behind his ear before leaning in to whisper in it.

“Do you want to know what I think? Being trapped working at the Institute doesn’t upset you as much as you think it should. Where else would you go? You’ve worked here your entire adult life, and few places will be as open to your lack of formal qualifications. You want to be angry like Tim, but you’re actually relieved. For the first time, you’re not worried about losing your job. You hate the way reading statements makes you feel, but you love feeling useful. For Jon,” he nibbles on Martin’s earlobe, making Martin gasp, “And for me.”

It’s horrible, but what’s more horrible is how Martin doesn’t want Elias to stop. He doesn’t want Elias to stop touching him; he doesn’t want Elias to stop telling him all the awful things about himself Martin usually buries deep within.

Elias grips Martin’s chin and forces him to look him in his grey eyes. Eyes that are unusually warm, and Martin’s face is so hot that he’s sure Elias can feel it.

“Oh, look at you,” Elias croons, “You’re lovely.” And that is finally too much for Martin; it feels like Elias is mocking him, there’s no way he can be sincere.

“Stop,” Martin says, and it feels far too much like begging for mercy. Elias frowns.

“Alright,” he says, “But I do mean it, you know. You are lovely like this.”

“Get off me,” Martin says, and he tries to make his voice sound as commanding as possible, but it comes out breathy and weak.

“Is that what you want? Really?” Elias asks, idly running his hand up Martin’s flank.

No, Martin’s treacherous brain says, and Martin desperately tries to remind himself that the man sitting in his lap is a murderer. Elias grins like he heard that, and hell, maybe he did; Martin doesn’t know how his powers work. Martin doesn’t know what he wants at this point, clearly, only that the weight of Elias in his lap shouldn’t be as comforting as it is.

Elias presses one more chaste kiss to his lips before climbing off Martin with a contented sigh.

“Well,” he says, “I think this development is worthy of celebration, don’t you?” Martin stares at him, slack-jawed as he continues. “Would you like to get dinner tonight?”

Martin knows he should say no, should tell Elias to fuck off, and he should tell Elias off for kissing him and touching him like that on top of everything else, but. It’s an opportunity to get Elias alone and maybe get some answers out of him for once, and Martin can’t pass that up. He knows that’s giving into the Eye even more, and he can already hear Elias’s smug voice telling him just that, but he can’t keep living like this, constantly in the dark, not knowing what’s going on or if Jon has been kidnapped again. Martin’s going to get a stress ulcer at this rate. And well, if it’s true that there’s no way out of this for him, then at the very least he’s going to use this to help the others as much as he can. (Martin ignores the way he can still feel the ghost of Elias’s lips on his own, or how he doesn’t actually hate that Elias had kissed him.)

Martin shrugs. “Sure, if you’re paying,” he says, and he doesn’t miss the way Elias gives a genuine laugh at that. Elias acting so openly… fond of him will take some getting used to, but as they walk to the restaurant Elias has chosen, Martin finds himself thinking of ways to exploit that affection.

[terubakudan]

My Lesbian Experience with Loneliness by Nagata Kabi - Book Review and Impressions

(light reflection) Perfect :D Hoping Tumblr doesn't flag me for this xD

Ok, I'm going to start this off with 'this is probably the first and only book review I'm going to do' xD Because I rarely do read books now, and just as rarely buy them. Also, I would have preferred to buy the English version but alas they only had the Chinese version in stock ^^"

Stumbling upon this on the Internet, I was immediately compelled to buy this, as if I knew I would love it and that Nagata's story would resonate with me.

【Short Version】 I can't recommend this book enough, it doesn't matter what sexuality you are or from what culture are you. Nagata makes sure to tell an honest and 'naked' (without embellishments) portrait of her own personal experiences. How she herself is a college drop-out (having only graduated from high school), pushed herself to live/work while struggling with depression and eating disorders, not being sure of what she wants and feeling that she doesn't 'deserve' things, realizing her own sexuality in that she likes girls, and just not feeling 'good enough'...all through her cutesy and unassuming art style.

I will say again though, cutesy art style aside, the book deals with some very heavy topics. Nagata is very honest and doesn't shy away from the gritty details, and I admire her all the more for doing so. Many yaoi and yuri comics often portray an unrealistic and fetishistic view of the LGBTQ+ community whereas Nagata's story is much more grounded and sincere. This is not an easy read, but it's not an overly depressive one either. Nagata literally struggled for years with her mental health, but ultimately found light on the other side. Not mainly through the help of others, but through her own choice to forgive and love herself.

5/5⭐ Definitely recommend and would read again. And if I could, I'd give Nagata a big hug and a heartfelt 'thank you' for sharing her story.

【Long Version】 While it's written primarily from an Asian (particularly Japanese) perspective, Nagata's experiences are ones that should resonate with anyone who has been through the same or similar things, regardless of one's personal background. And I myself, while being fortunate enough to not have gone through eating disorders or self harm, am no exception.

I grew up in an Asian (Taiwanese/Chinese Filipino) household, while my parents weren't Tiger Parents (no offense but fuck Amy Chua for thinking that's a proper way of raising your children), they still had certain expectations on their children: to find a good husband/wife, have a good education, have a 'stable' career, etc. And while I love my parents very much, I'd be lying if I said there weren't any times where I felt they were smothering me, there weren't any times where they kept on nagging and bugging me for very trivial details. My biggest pet peeve: guilt-tripping me just for wanting to spend time alone.

"For me, my parents' opinion of me is absolute." (NOTE: While I won't be providing exact translations of the excerpts I used here, I'll do my best to summarize the gist of them.)

At the same time, I cared very much about their opinion of me. I made it a point to do well in school, to do things according to their wishes, and just like Nagata, I didn't know what I wanted. This even extended to caring about others' opinion of me, more than my own. In my freshman year of college, I 'went along' with being friends with someone, who while was nice to me, turned out to be a manipulative bitch skilled in passive-aggressiveness xD Being half-Taiwanese/half-Filipino, it was hard to fit in since people always treated me differently, it didn't occur to me I could be choosy with friends, I thought as long as they were 'nice' to me, that would do.

Asian culture is largely a collective one, where we define ourselves by our relationships with others, compared with Western culture (primarily America, I'll be using America as a reference point) where individualism is absolute, where you define yourself as you like. In Asia, it's also normal for children to still live in the same house as their parents well into adulthood, compared with Americans who are expected to move out the house once they finish high school or start college, and they're quite literally 'on their own', having to pay their own tuition, rent, etc. Where I live (Taiwan), it's normal for adults to continue relying on their parents financially well until college. Nagata for instance, while saying her parents really make her feel so pressured, is grateful that she still had a home to stay in (and she's 28!).

If you ask me though, neither a collectivist culture or an individualist culture is absolutely good nor bad. Each have their own pros and cons, and both Asian culture and Western culture could learn a thing or two from each other.

After going through quite a few job applications, one of the interviewers tells her "Ganbatte!" (You can do it!) after Nagata tells her what she really wants is to be a manga artist.

And sometimes that's all we need really, a small gesture or kind remark can do wonders. Even if there's no base or reason for it, it's something worth believing in.

I often have doubts if I'm doing what I really want, if I chose the right major for college, if I'm doing the right thing, if I'm 'good enough'. I didn't grow up with much self-esteem as a kid, and often derived my value from others. But even at my lowest times, a 'you're doing ok' was very reassuring to me, be it from family, strangers, or people I care about. Sometimes that's exactly what we need, it may be small but it could be the difference between continuing to wallow in depression or re-evaluating and choosing to be better to oneself.

I find it's really important to know, that however alone you may feel sometimes, there are other people out there going through the exact same thing. It's something universal, and while a lot of things are really unfair in life, each person has their own lot or burden to deal with. I have a Taiwanese friend who, while being more financially well-off than me, has terrible parents. And I mean parents who are quite so literally toxic, unsupportive of her, and would outright say the worst things to their own daughter.

How depression and anxiety can feel sometimes, we can literally feel like it's impossible to breathe and be in a state of disconnection from the world.

"The sounds that invaded my ears occupied my empty brain, making me unable to think at all."

If you only did what your parents asked you to do, wouldn't days like those be very painful? In the end, only you can understand what you really want.

Nagata's art style is one I would describe as simple, cute, and effective. I personally think had her story been drawn in a more serious style, it would have been even harder to read, much less finish. It's also a choice that has artistic appeal to me, serious subject matter juxtaposed with a 'kawaii' art style.

Nagata also depicts very well her mental state and thoughts throughout her struggle and journey to self-actualization. Depression is a really tough thing to deal with, and sometimes we don't even realize that we have it or if we do, refuse to acknowledge it. In Asian cultures especially, mental health has always been something of a taboo subject and there is a very heavy social stigma associated with it. Nagata herself even said that her parents seemingly refused to acknowledge that their daughter's mental health was in a state of distress. In Japan, there is a concept called gaman (我慢), which is described as 'enduring the seemingly unbearable with patience and dignity', and while it is portrayed as an ideal virtue that inspires perseverance, it can be a source of heavy pressure for others. Gaman also means that you are expected to suppress whatever emotion or negative feelings you have, often for the sake of others and no matter how tough the situation becomes for you. And while I agree that through gaman you can become more selfless for others, it shouldn't have to come at the expense of your own well-being.

I was quite fortunate to have grown up in a more liberal Asian household, but even when it came to mental health, our family also adopted the same kind of attitude towards it, by carrying on as if nothing was wrong, or just not talking about it. And to be honest, there were numerous times I wished we had been more open about what was bothering ourselves at that time. Talking and being open about your feelings is not a 'weakness' but something incredibly brave to do, and it's my wish for that to slowly become more acceptable in Asian cultures, which I know is kind of a stretch, but it doesn't hurt to hope.

Nagata makes the decision to clean herself up, by taking a bath everyday, habitually exercising, and no longer wearing worn-out clothes.

Depression especially can be a bitch. It deprives you even of your physiological needs, like your need for food. Nagata had to struggle with that on top of eating disorders for a long ten years. She ate so little and even felt that she didn't 'deserve' to eat, and at one point, anorexia became hyperphagia, and she would feel so guilty for eating almost expired/expired food. Things that would otherwise be simple to do also end up becoming difficult/impossible to do, like taking care of your personal hygiene, getting up from bed, doing simple tasks etc.

Thankfully, after Nagata realizes that she never truly 'valued herself', she starts to turn over a new leaf. Even just starting with cleaning herself up, she takes this as a form of 'valuing oneself' and her mood starts to improve, which her family also points out. In the end, taking care of yourself is not a selfish thing to do, it can even make you a better person who is there for others.

Nagata meets up with the female escort she hired, as a means to experience human sexuality, which she had always repressed her curiosity for and treated as a taboo subject. (NOTE: And I'm glad that she met a really nice girl for her first time too!)

Sex and sexuality is also a subject that I feel is hard to talk about sometimes, which I think also owes itself to most Asian cultures being relatively conservative about it. I myself have only recently identified as bisexual, which I attribute to internalized homophobia, not wanting to admit I was into girls too. And to be honest, 'coming out' is something I'm still uncomfortable about, because I don't want to risk my relationship with my family and it's still something I would choose to be selective about with colleagues and friends. I'm grateful though that as crazy the Internet can be sometimes, it can be quite accepting and tolerant towards things that we wouldn't otherwise discuss with even the closest people in our circle. Nagata's memoir ended up capturing the hearts of many readers ever since she first published it on Pixiv.

Exploring your sexuality doesn't have to be scary, it should be something exciting and liberating. Nagata decided to take matters into her own hands, and while the days leading up to the encounter made her really nervous and she even considered not going through with it at all, she willed herself to continue, because she wanted to do this for herself, it would be pointless if she gave up after coming so far in her decision to value herself.

And it's these series of actions that she decided to do that ultimately led to her life turning out for the better, it gave her the courage to do what she always wanted: to be a manga artist, which lead to the publishing of this autobiographical memoir, something she wanted to create that would 'make people want to buy this book' and from her own preference for reading stories that 'speak of secrets people wouldn't want to tell others'.

Nagata mentions what she calls 'honey': something that varies from person to person. It could be your reason for living, that thing that drives/pushes you, or even your sense of belonging. It may not be something permanent, but you can always find yourself a new one. (she mentions the last time she had her 'honey' was during her high school days, and while she has grown apart from the friends she made, she has found her new 'honey' in the form of being a full-time manga artist.)

Nagata stumbles and trips a lot on her way to being a better version of herself, but who doesn't? She admits to things not necessarily being smooth, but at least she's doing better than before. And it's that decision to at least try that counts. We don't have to be perfect, we're all human after all.

TL;DR My Lesbian Experience With Loneliness is a honest, down-to-earth, and ultimately hopeful memoir about the struggles of mental health and learning about one's sexuality. It's an amazing book, and very much worth the buy.

A big thank you if you read through all of this too. I know it's a mess and writing isn't exactly my strong point, but hopefully I've convinced some people out there to give this book a read! Please feel free to share your thoughts and I'd appreciate it very much too if you reblog/like this post.

[stagbells]

Summerdew and Sweet Kisses

From: @daikoski

To: @strawberryaeris

Written work under readmore!

notes: hello!! i had lots of fun writing this, it was such a joy to work on! it’s my first time writing lacenet, so i hope you enjoy!! summertime love :D

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

It’s date night, and Lace has full reign on what they’re doing today.

It’s less of a spoken thing and more a silent agreement that one of them can take the lead and decide what sort of day the two will share together. Whether it be cozying it up at home, or working on individual projects with the other close by, going hunting, or seeking out a new activity to share, most of everything is free game when it comes to them. 

To which, she’s deliberately chosen something new.

Hornet had mentioned one time, in idle conversation, that she’d never really swam for the sake of it. If anything, it was a shortcut, if she couldn’t easily cross the body of water with her needle and silk. That she hadn’t really considered it as a fun passing of time, a recreational activity of sorts.

Well. Neither had Lace, but the thought of it now sounds far more appealing now that they’ve both claimed better lives for each other, for Hornet’s family, doesn’t it? It’s safer now, and they’re easing into a life beyond just fine, but something good instead. 

And... there are plenty of beautiful, isolated spots within the land that Lace has seen, and what better to enjoy it than with her darling? 

And what a pretty little area it is too; a pond, hidden within the depths of a lush grove. hidden, but with evidence of prior life, if the cute wooden dock is any indicator. The surface of the pond is scattered with aquatic plants in little vibrant clusters, pearls of colour that sway with the breeze. 

“Are you sure you don’t want to enter the water, dear?” 

From her spot, with Hornet sitting perched on the dock, dangling her peets into the water and swishing them around in such a way that makes Lace laugh, before settling her always so composed regard on her, she looks nothing less than perfect. And also very wary of getting wet beyond that.

Cute. 

“I’m considering it,” is just enough of a not-response that Lace hums, a touch understanding, a touch mischievous. Ah yes. She’s considering it. 

Hornet has been sitting on the edge of the dock for almost an hour now, the two making idle conversation as they enjoy the balmy air that’s heavy-sweet with ripening fruits and bright flowers, hot to the point of being almost unbearable, but alas, she is still considering it. 

Such a shame.

Lace splashes the unsuspecting spider. 

Not a full-on wave, of course, she isn’t that mean, but as of now, a little urging on her part wouldn’t hurt, and Hornet immediately shields herself from the water. The top-half of her cloak is soaked.

“Lace—!” 

“Yes?” Her voice as innocent as she is not, she merely swishes her hands within the water, propelling herself back a bit from the dock before holding her hands out in gesture, as if to catch Hornet if she were to dive in. “My, dearest, do you need any help with that? You’re already halfway there!”

“My silk is going to melt, and my things could rust...” 

“A little water won’t hurt, but if you need a place to keep them, there’s a little nook over there that’ll keep them safe.” Shrouded by bits of sweet grass and soft soil, it’s a perfect spot to keep anything important safe. Besides, they’re both well aware that both of their belongings are far sturdier than that...

“If you had wanted me in the water so bad, you could have asked.” 

Kind of haphazardly, more deliberate than not, Hornet unburdens herself of all the little tools and trinkets she keeps within her cloak, before finally sliding into the water. (It’s a mess, but a mess that she understands and who is Lace to question that.) 

“There. I’ve removed everything from my pockets, and I’m here now.” Her tone is just a touch grumpy, though that’s easily dismissed with the way Lace can feel the faint stutter-rumble of her purr as she rests a hand on Hornet’s chest.

“Cute, but I think the little questions I’ve scattered into our conversation were not given much heed.”

“Maybe if you asked again...” Ah, now that is most certainly petulance. “You’re enjoying making a fool of me today, aren’t you?”

Hornet’s claws are carefully gripping her own, smaller hand, and Lace brushes the pad of her thumb over her now damp fur. The distant, light waves that carry them ever so slightly kind of pushes her to Hornet, and she can only smile wider at the way her lover’s claws go to brace her gently.

“Ahh, my apologies, I'm not trying to be mean!” 

“Really.”

“Mm. At least, just a little bit.”

“So you do admit it.”

“And you must believe me, dearheart, when I say I have no ill intent~!” 

Intentionally, Lace lets her mandibles curl in a teasing, honey-sweet manner that always has Hornet unable to look away for just a little bit, and she relishes in the attention just as much as the way her darling swats a wave of water her way in reciprocation.

Because even if she says it in a teasing way, going so far to jab her elbow lightly into Hornet’s side with a laugh, she hopes that the cute spider knows she means every word of it. 

Because she’s something wonderful, isn’t she? Direct in a way that’s refreshing, because how often is it that Lace gets to experience something like that? Sharp and honest (and even if she does sometimes struggle with expressing her feelings, she’s still honest) and it’s in such a way that makes Lace want to be the same towards her, be something more open, more real.

...Weird concept, and Lace finds herself laughing to herself, just a little trill of delight. 

Yes, but nothing could ever make her stop wanting to tease the spider. Her reactions are so cute after all! 

But, her sappiness can be saved for later. Not when there’s currently the cute culprit of these thoughts right in front of her. It’s fun to splash around and goad her dearest on into something of a playfight, one that results in the both being absolutely drenched, but it’s just as nice to relish the coolness of the water against her shell, and in turn be able to admire the many facets such a new experience has brought upon Hornet’s visage. 

Cute.

Such as the vague flit of surprise that had so graced the spider’s face when Lace had dunked herself beneath the water; not so many bugs feel comfortable doing such a thing, after all. Or the fond, subdued smile that quirks her fangs just so with each sharp banter that slips so naturally out. It’s nice. 

And when the sunlight becomes something a bit too bright and Lace can see the films of Hornet’s eyes try to flick up as she winces from it, she can’t help but bump shoulders with her, before drawing her hand over the smoothness of Hornet’s mask in an unsubtle way of blocking the light, for even just a moment. 

“You’re getting water in my eyes,” Hornet half-protests, fangs scrunching but looking so much more relaxed now, and Lace can only think of it as a job well done. 

She had purposefully made it so that they would go out later in the day anyways; noonlight was something so sharp sometimes, but alas, even in the evenings can the sunlight bother her dearest like so. They continue like that for a good while longer, idly floating about and conversing, one instigating another splash war on occasion.

It’s all fun and games until they have to get out of the water.

Hornet, the poor little thing, looks just a bit miserable as she works on flicking the water from the tufts of fur that lines her body, chelicerae working ever so slightly concentration. Well, it’s good she’s come prepared.

“Here you are, lover!” Easily tossing a towel around Hornet’s shoulders, Lace gives it a light tug to pull her spider down to press a little kiss and a nuzzle against the side of her mask.

“You planned for this.” Hornet is nothing short of accusatory, and she laughs, just letting a playful hum be her response as she helps tumble dry her.

“What, to trick you into the water so I can give you a kiss?” 

Could it really be considered such a devious plan when she was planning on kissing her either way? Endearing thought, especially since Hornet herself is the one to go through some length to muster up something as direct as asking for a kiss. Usually all she’d need to do is start purring up a storm to leave Lace as the one giving the kisses!

At some point, Hornet had cuddled up to her, both drying beneath the steady heat of the sun, but indulging in the warmth of one another for as long as they were allowed. Laying back onto the wood of the deck, peaceful and soft and warm, where the only sounds were that of trickling water and slowing breathing.

Despite appearances, Hornet can be quite the cuddler, curling herself as close as possible to Lace, little tail and everything looping around her as she dozes. Well, this is her fate now. 

She doesn’t have the heart to move and disrupt Hornet from a well-deserved nap, even if the way they cuddle always traps her beneath her weight. Not until the sun begins to fall, and the faint glimmers of the starlight begin to settle in, does Lace think of stirring the spider. 

This is the sight she wanted to share with her, after all. To deliberately take a moment and enjoy the sight the massive void above has to offer, with all its strange mysteries and stories to tell. Stories she only really heard as a grub, but ones she’s more than willing to try and scrounge up to share with her lover if she so asked...

“Hello there, darling,” Lace carefully nudges her girlfriend awake, and Hornet untucks her face from the crook of her neck. “The sky is clear tonight, take a look.” 

(There’s no teasing note to her voice—there’s no need to bring it forth, rather. Not when everything is so quiet, so subdued, and Hornet is still shaking off the last lingering bits of sleep from her eyes, looking so peaceful and comfortable that the sight brings an ache forth in her chest.)

(That this is something they both get to have.)

“It’s night time already?” Hornet murmurs, twisting herself to lay on her back, “Would you not get cold?” The sleepy note to her normally composed and cold voice is something so cute, and Lace leans in to give her a little nuzzle. 

“No, and even if I do, I have you, as well as the shawl you had weaved for me so kindly.” And alongside that, the soft, genuine fondness in her own voice is still something so faintly unfamiliar, yet so nice. She could get used to it. 

Hornet flushes a bit, perhaps at the prospect that Lace had decided to take the gift she had made for her along in case the night air became chilly, before letting a little ‘mrr’ of disappointment out. 

“I am not sure if we should stay out so late...” she begins, before gesturing a bit vaguely, “that, and I had mistakenly assumed we were to return home by nightfall, so...”

Ohh, are her siblings expecting her?

Lace sits up, and unable to help it, stares for a moment. It clicks. Right. They usually go hunting during their dates, two belflies with one stone so to say. 

“Did you leave your siblings at home with nothing to eat?” is her automatic question, more concerned for Hornet than anything else. Hornet sits up as well, adjusting her cloak.

“Not nothing.” Hornet frowns, but there’s a small smile hidden, tucked away beneath her mask and Lace knows she’s not truly upset at her question, “they’re most likely eating as we speak. And if they so happen to finish all of our food at home, neither are the type to allow the other to go hungry anyways...” so they could very well be hunting, too.

“Ah, but I can tell you still dislike the notion of leaving them without a fresh meal.” Lace points out, and Hornet leans into her side a bit. 

“...Yes.”

“Cute! If it so soothes you, my worrier, then we can take a little detour. I wouldn’t mind if this date takes a turn for our usual.” Carefully extracting herself from Hornet’s hold, Lace hops up with ease to swipe up her belongings—including her pin.

Hornet visibly hesitates—and by visibly, there’s the slightest press of her claws against Lace’s arm, just a light pressure as if to gently tug her back to her side—before she too stands. Not one to leave things undone, not one to linger, but oh, so it seems for the both of them, lingering is just so much easier nowadays...

“Apologies...” she mumbles, and whether it be due to cutting their plans short, or the hesitation, Lace hums affectionately to comfort her. “We could stay a little longer?”

“We can always go stargazing another day, my dear. And hunting with you is always a treat, there's nothing to apologize for.” and with a little nuzzle, the two are on their way.

(A part of her delights so wonderfully at the fact she’s come to pick up so many of Hornet’s cues; not when so few bugs can say the same, and it makes her preen with a silly sweet sort of pride. Hers, just as much as she is Hornet’s.)

It isn’t until they’re both following an easy scent trail that Hornet speaks up again, breaking that routine silence and looking beautifully dangerous in the moonlight, needle and silk carrying her onwards.

“...Did you call me your ‘warrior’ or ‘worrier’?”

Pfft!

“Wouldn’t you like to know?”

...

“I suppose I’ll just earn back my title as your warrior with this hunt.”

[barbasbodaciousbeard]

Love you to the Moon and to Saturn

Summary: Caring is not an advantage. To Mycroft, this was a belief he found through the calculated logic that ruled his life. If was analytical and detached and certainly had nothing to do with Sherlock or the childhood neighbor. 

A/N: In a break from my regularly scheduled SVU writing, here’s a four part Folklore inspired Mycroft Holmes thing.

Please, picture me in the weeds Before I learned civility I used to scream ferociously Any time I wanted

“Mycroft, promise you’ll remember me here,” Ruth whispered, laying on the blanket beside where he sat with his legs before him. It was wholly undignified, but it was the clearing they spent their free time in the summer when Sherlock wasn’t there for them to watch over.

“Why here?” he asked, brow lifted as he watched her carefully weaving the bevy of flowers she’d picked. It had made their walk three times as long, but he was content to watch her as the sun shone on red curls and the yellow sundress flowed in the wind. Uncle Rudy wouldn’t approve of the way he was beginning to think of her. The neighbor girl in the summers who helped him watch over his precocious brother and never knew the sister that still haunted his nightmares. He was sixteen now, but the tension was not yet gone in the Holmes house. Ruth’s insistence on dragging him to the clearing always served as a reprieve.

“You don’t act so stuffy, so it’s where I’ll remember you. I want our memories to match when you go off to school in a couple years.” He might have taken offense if she weren’t right, something she must have known because she added, “It’s probably good one of us already acts politely. But I like seeing you when you don’t look so stressed.”

“I’m under no stress, Ruth.”

“You’re a good liar. But we’ve also spent four summers together now. You always play quite serious, but I’m learning to read you.”

There was no reason she needed to know what weighed so heavily on his shoulders. His parents had yet to realize the weight their pressure put on him. He’d been scolded for not watching Eurus more closely, not watching Sherlock and Victor as they played. Then, Uncle Rudy had decided two years before that fourteen was man enough to know the reality and partake in taking care of the family. 

Rudy would always claim he occupied a minor position in the British government, but whatever it was allowed him to put Eurus somewhere far, far away. In a few years, Mycroft would go to Oxford, study something that prepped him to join Rudy. When the time came, managing the secrets would be his job. He would minitor Eurus at Sherrinford, hide the secrets away from his parents, let them think their daughter dead and maintain the illusion she was. At least he would give her creature comforts, gifts on birthdays. 

Mycroft wouldn’t lose the humanity or kindness Rudy had. It took work to learn it, but it was carefully curated and hidden away, reserved for a select few, and Ruth was one of them. He didn’t want to tell Ruth all the darkness Rudy kept tucked away or the way he had to monitor Sherlock to ensure he didn’t remember Eurus or that redbeard wasn’t truly a dog.

“I am unknowable, Ruth,” he nearly hummed, allowing the corner of his mouth to lift. “But I promise to remember you dirtying a perfectly lovely dress in order to weave flowers into a wreath.”

“It’s a crown, Mycroft,” she said emphatically. “I bring blankets now so you won’t dirty your slacks.”

“What a kindness.”

“You used to be more like me.”

“What do you mean?”

“You act like a teacher. All serious and proper and wearing slacks and a sweater and a collared shirt to spend a day in the yard.”

“I’m just trying to act like an adult.”

“We’re not adults.” 

He wanted to tell her he wasn’t allowed to be a child anymore. That he wanted to go with her to get drunk at bonfires and snog and do all the things his peers did. But, between his intellect making most people simply unbearable, the jealousy he wouldn’t acknowledge when some lad talked to Ruth, and the fact that would mean risking something happening to his brother, he couldn’t. If Sherlock were hurt, his parents would blame him, as they did with Eurus, so Mycroft hovered over him. Luckily, he seemed to like the attention from his big brother, often snatching books he knew Mycroft had finished and devouring them to discuss them proudly in earshot of Mycroft.

“I suppose you’re correct. I still have no intention of going to one of those bonfires with you. Sherlock will be home soon. We ought to go back.”

“You’re not his parent.”

“I just enjoy his company.”

She squinted, placing her newly finished ring of flowers atop her head, and he smiled despite himself. It was probably good she made him take these breaks in the summers. Otherwise, he’d never take the time to breathe or feel the sun on his face or anything else. One day, he wouldn’t have the option. Caring wasn’t an advantage. That’s what Rudy kept telling him, but Mycroft couldn’t see how this could be anything but.

Sweet tea in the summer Cross your heart, won't tell no other… Passed down like folk songs The love lasts so long

“This isn’t tea, Ruth,” he said, distaste apparent as she set the pitcher before him. 

“It’s sweet tea, Mycroft. Just try it.”

“You were raised by Americans. This is a bastardization of tea. I won’t have it.”

“You take your tea with so much sugar, anyway. It’s hot out, and I wanted something that wouldn’t make me hotter. There’s mint in it. And sugar. Just try it. For me?”

Mycroft made a noise of dissatisfaction, taking the offered glass and sipping it. He didn’t want to admit it was bearable, but when he took another sip, he could see the look of pride on Ruth’s face. Expectantly, she crossed her arms, and he sighed as he realized she’d wait until he answered.

“It’s acceptable. Still a bastardization. Hot tea is perfectly lovely on a hot day.”

“I’ll take it. Especially given how easily you’re drinking it.”

“Impossible.”

“You love me,” she sang playfully, and he wanted to tell her he was becoming quite sure he did. She was who came to mind when he heard love described. Ruth was who he trusted, was comfortable around, and made him want to be less of a miserable pain. She was also beautiful and smart and interesting, not like everyone else he’d dubbed as goldfish as of late. It was infuriating. 

“To the moon and to saturn,” he said softly, mirroring the way she’d said the same thing affectionately to both him and his brother. His eyes were closed as his head rested against the back of the patio swing, and he felt the tickle of Ruth’s braids before he felt her press a kiss to the top of his head. His heart pounded, and Mycroft was suddenly more aware of her closeness as he opened her eyes. The sound of Sherlock calling out to his audience of toys as he played echoed to them, but for once they were the background noise to his mind and all he could focus on was Ruth’s soft laugh as she watched his brother from her place beside him.

“To the moon and to saturn,” she smiled. “You’re my best friend, Mycroft.”

He didn’t like the word friend in that moment, but saying as much would mean admitting he was smitten with her. There was no way he could keep that from mummy and father. He wasn’t one for affection, but he let her rest her head upon his shoulder, a dignified hand pressing to her cheek before returning to his lap. 

“And you are mine, Ruth.”

“You mean that?”

“I do.”

“Thank you.” 

Ruth stayed against his side, only sitting up when Sherlock ran up clutching some piece of a broken gardening trow he seemed quite proud to have found. Ruth took it gladly, promising she’d try to think of a way to give it a handle again. In the fall and spring, it was always harder for him to keep up with his younger brother; mummy and father both taught at the university and found their time researching and writing indispensable so they could enjoy the winter break and summer. They said the boys would be fine on their own, but what they meant was Mycroft would be watching. It was better with Ruth, who genuinely seemed to enjoy helping to make Sherlock feel included. 

With Eurus gone and Victor dead, the ten year old only had his brother and their neighbor. He also had the same distance Mycroft remembered so well, the sea between himself and everyone else because their minds simply worked differently. People could be so boring, especially if they were unwilling to deal with the Holmes’ peculiarities. Everyone was so delicate, still learning who they were and building self esteem, that Sherlock and Mycroft with intelligence to rival the teachers and eccentricities abound didn’t know how to interact, especially given how long their mother had kept them home schooled. Victor had always understood his brother, and now he was gone. Ruth was the first close friend Mycroft had found, the only one where he didn’t have to calculate what his next move should be.

“Mycroft,” Sherlock asked, pulling on his brother’s sleeve. He was still all dark curls and blue eyes. It was still admiration on his face instead of the annoyance that would take its place ten years later. “Do we have any of the big wooden dowels left? Ruth says we could use them to make a handle!”

“We do,” he said softly, straightening the boy’s collar. “You’re quite lucky she’s always so willing to assist in your restorations. Her father does restorations for museums. I’ll fetch the dowels. You help Ruth set up your work station.”

I’ve been meaning to tell you I think your house is haunted Your dad is always mad and that must be why I think you should come live with me  And we can be pirates, then you won't have to cry

“Why are you hiding?” 

Mycroft looked up from his book, back against the wall of the attic. It was the first Christmas since he’d left for Oxford, and he was pleased to learn both families would spend it as they did their summers. If anything had been confirmed for him, it was that he was irrevocably in love with her. He’d now kissed and slept with a couple of people and each time he wondered how it would be if it were Ruth. 

Rudy had made it apparent that until he was needed at a job once he graduated, his summers were his, and he was pleased to know he had three summers with her before Eurus was his responsibility. Sherlock had been acting out since he left, and he had a feeling soon enough the boy would be his responsibility from afar.

“I’m not hiding,” he argued as she settled beside him. “What, no hello?”

“Hello, Mycroft. I missed you terribly.”

“I missed you too, Ruth.” 

“You never call me. We don’t get to run into each other when you’re at school. So we’ve got to put in effort.”

“I’ve nothing terribly interesting to say.”

“Call and bore me then, okay?”

“You require quite a lot of attention.” His tone was as playful as she’d ever heard, though to anyone else she was certain it sounded monotone. But, the corners of his mouth weren’t turned down, even if he did seem more exhausted than she’d ever seen him.

“I just wanted to make sure you’re okay, Mycroft.”

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

“I could hear your dad.” Mycroft sighed, placing his bookmark and setting the novel aside. His hands came to rest on his lap, fingers laced, and he just couldn’t quite bring himself to look at her. “Was it about Sherlock?”

“He’s been acting out with regularity. Mummy and father think I should come back more. That he misses me. I do not know when they expect that I will be able to, but I’m going to make an effort to.”

“Mycroft, he’ll find something else to act out over. He’s only turning eleven. It’s a change he’ll have to get used to because one day, you’ll be prime minister or something and never have time for any of us.”

“Don’t wish that upon me.”

“Sometimes, I think something bad happened here. And that the energy gets to your dad. He isn’t like this in the city from what you tell me.”

“Are you implying ghosts make my father angry, Ruth?”

“Maybe,” she shrugged. “You should come stay with me. I’ll sneak you in through the window.”

“Your father would have me killed. He’d assume I had nefarious intent.”

“He left,” she muttered, picking at the loose thread of the rug. 

“Ruth-”

“I’m fine. He still visits me, and I visit him. It’s just so strange being here for Christmas without him. He met a woman at work…”

“How’s Catherine?”

“She’s taken it well. She stays out a lot. But she’s been home for the holiday since we came out here.”

“I am always here if you need to talk about it. You could have called me.”

“I know,” she said, squeezing his fingers. “Are you ready to run away from responsibility yet? I still think we could have a lovely roadside stand somewhere. A cottage.”

“You could always come to Oxford.”

“Maybe I will.”

“I’ll always have a place for you.”

“I’m just pleased I get to see you. It’s been too long. You’re my favorite person, you know?”

“And you’re mine.”

“No, Sherlock is,” she teased, nudging his side. “But that’s fair.”

“I love you.” The words tumbled out before he could stop them. He’d said it dozens of times, but always in response to her. There was something else behind it now as they hid away from their families. It felt comfortable. He felt at home now that she was here. Wasn’t that a sign? That he still felt unstable when surrounded by his parents and Sherlock, but a peace washed over him when Ruth’s head poked out from behind the attic door. 

“Mycroft-”

“It’s perfectly alright if you don’t.”

“I do.”

“What?”

“I said I do. I love you too, Mycroft Holmes.”

He didn’t know what to do now. Oxford was the first place someone had kissed him, a brunette boy at a party his roommate had held. There was also a woman, one much older than him, who he met at the library. Those had been simple enough because the weight of his feelings wasn’t attached. He’d worked so hard with Rudy to control them, to remember caring isn’t an advantage. It was acceptable to love his little brother; Rudy reminded him that would make everything easier. But loving Ruth? He’d always made their friendship an exception, but as he realized he had the opportunity to kiss her he took it. 

Long fingers cupped her jaw, and his heart soared as he realized she was looking to his lips. She leaned in before he could, hands going to his sides as she kissed him sweetly. Each kiss he’d had before had a purpose. It was hard and wanting and found the inexperienced Mycroft in a bed somewhere. Now, he could just hold his lips to hers like this forever, never progressing, and be happy. When they did separate, she buried her face into the crook of his neck, and his arms circled her waist as he savored the closeness. He could feel her heart pounding as his was. 

“I love you, Mycroft.”

“And I love you, Ruth.”

“Promise?”

“To the moon and to Saturn.”