#the bit at the end where he does the baby girl pose and kicks his legs in the air because he’s besotted with her. unfixable

[chartedrights]

There is nothing better in a romance than a man falling in love with a woman not in spite of her ridiculous quirks and massive issues but because of them. This is why Grace/Max will always be a winner for me. He doesn’t want to change her. She is literally unhinged and he loves it. He loves that she is like that and it’s so funny.

[tasteracha]

no air

word count: <2k

warnings: afab!reader, slight orgasm denial, soft dom!minho, sub!reader, minor choking, minor breathplay, hair pulling, minor degradation, a bit of manhandling, reader is called kitten and baby girl, unprotected sex (use a condom, folks), teasing - smut, MINORS DNI

synopsis: you come home to minho gifting you a corset. of course you have to put it to good use.

“i got you something,” is the first thing you hear when you walk through the door of your shared apartment, ready to change into pajamas and curl up against your partner for the night. you place your bag down before turning towards him, an eyebrow quirked, but his face doesn’t betray anything beyond the excited mirth in his eyes.

he’s sitting on the couch, making the perfect picture of relaxation, body slumped and legs spread. a white box tied shut with a glittery ribbon lays on the coffee table in front of him, and the slight shake of his hand when he gestures towards it shows what he’s trying to hide. he’s nervous.

you approach the box timidly, gently pulling apart the ribbon and pulling the lid off. when you push back the thin tissue paper on the inside, you have a let out a gasp as your heart skips a beat. a black corset is placed there, lacy and ribbed, with shiny black ribbons on the front and back criss-crossing with the strings hanging off the end.

“baby,” you breathe out, running a fingertip over the ribbing. “for me?”

“no, for me,” he snarks, smiling fondly at you. “of course, for you. i saw you looking at them the other day on the computer so. i got it. do you like it?”

“maybe i was looking for you, i think you would look sexy in this,” you tease, matching his crinkly eyed smile with your own and softening your voice. “i love it, min.”

“we don’t have to use it today. i just wanted to give it to you as soon as it arrived.” he says, edges of anxiety peeling back to reveal satisfied contentment at your reaction.

“good, because tonight i want to cuddle you until your limbs fall asleep.”

“oh baby, you have such a way with words.”

—

it takes two weeks for you to finally put it on, wiggling your body into the material and clumsily tying the strings in the back. you leave the ones in the front untied, tightened with no knot - he’d want to do that part himself, you’re sure.

you’ve chosen a day where you know he’ll come home with the desire to relieve some stress. he’s at a meeting with some higher ups, ones you know he doesn’t get along with, and your entire body shivers in anticipation as you think of the way his jaw is probably tightening in anger right now on his drive home. you’ll be the perfect release for him today, you’re sure of it.

you forgo bottoms for just a simple pair of black cotton underwear, knowing that he won’t pay attention to anything other than the mesh and lace that’s melting into your skin. you do put on a simple black choker with a metal “M” hanging off of it, a gift he got you for christmas last year that you treasure and only bring out on special occasions.

this seemed like a special enough occasion to you.

your heart races when you hear his keys jangling against the front door, and you run to the door, struggling to stand in a position that didn’t look like a pose.

“baby, you wouldn’t believe the day i’ve had-“ he starts, the complaint on his lips dying as he takes you in, takes in what you’re wearing, just for him. his jaw drops a bit as he kicks the door shut, dropping the keys to the floor instead of hanging them up in his usual near manner. “well, what do we have here?” he purrs, stalking towards you with feline eyes. you blush under his intense gaze, body twitching as he approaches you slowly.

“wanted to do something special for you, min,” you say, voice trembling a bit at the edges, insecurities that you never could squash coming up to your throat. does he even like this? sure, he bought it for you, but what if it was a joke?

you let out a gasp as he finally lays his hands on your waist, fingertips digging in slightly as his soft lips press a kiss to your jawbone.

“bedroom, now.” he says, voice hard and commanding, arousal dripping off of it like honey. it’s like a switch flipped in his brain the second he saw you, and that’s exactly what you wanted.

you rush to stand in the middle of your shared bedroom, in front of the bed, knowing that he probably wants you on the mattress on all fours but not wanting to give into him just yet; he loves the chase just as much as the act. you can’t help the anticipation from crawling up your chest, sending waves of arousal through you as you wait for him.

he stalks in a few minutes later, collar of his shirt unbuttoned, showing off his defined collarbone and the column of his neck. he’s taking off his belt, the buckle jingling in the silent room, and for a second you think he might use it to cuff your wrists together before he throws it off to the side.

“and what’s my kitten doing all the way over here?” he purrs, clicking his tongue as he buries his fingers soothingly into your hair before jerking, your head whipping up, giving his access to wrap a hand lightly around your throat. his hand digs the metal of your collar into your skin and for a second you can’t breathe. “you know where your place is.”

he walks you backwards and pushes you roughly, your knees buckling as they hit the edge of the bed and your breath rushing out as your body hits the mattress. he wastes no time stripping himself of his pants and boxers, the clothes pooling on the floor. he leans over, climbing onto the bed on top of you, stalking like a feline who’s caught it’s prey. his fingers dip into the band of your underwear as he finally captures your lips in a heated kiss, all teeth and tongue, messy and delicious.

he slides his hand into your panties, his warm palm sending a fresh wave of arousal throughout your entire body. he plays with you with his fingers, sliding through your folds and digging into your clit perfectly, sparks flying up your spine as you moan into his mouth. he doesn’t bother taking your panties off, his hand moving furiously underneath them, and that makes the heat bubbling up in you even worse.

he breaks the kiss when you start panting, not able to hold back as your orgasm quickly approaches. you hold onto his arm for dear life, rutting up into his hand desperately and making little whines every time he pressed harder.

“min- ah,” you breathe out, the words barely making it past your swollen lips. you’re already delirious and he‘s barely even done anything yet. “min, please.”

“oh, baby girl,” he says, a sick satisfaction burning through your head when you realize that he’s breathless, too. “you wrapped yourself into a nice pretty present for me. let me open you up properly.”

with that, he plunges three fingers into your cunt, your wetness proving more than enough slickness for them to slide in easily. you clench around them as you moan, high and thready, each push and pull of his hand punching an eager sound out of you.

your eyes roll back into your head as the coils in your lower belly tighten, more and more until-

he removes his hand completely, letting you slump back into the mattress, clenching around nothing and choking out a sob.

“my kitten’s been so good, hasn’t she?” he says, voice velvet as he breaths words into your ear. he peels back your underwear in one swift movement, leaving you open and exposed in front of him. “she deserves a reward, hmm?”

“yes, yes, been good,” you babble, not able to lift out of the daze that he’s put you in to be embarrassed about how desperate you’ve become in just a few minutes. “kitten’s been good for you.”

“all for me,” he says, teasing the tip of his cock through your folds, smirk widening when you jump as it catches on your hole, oversensitive from being denied your release. “right, baby? my perfect little kitten, wrapped up tight, all for me.”

you scream as he finally pushes into you, one sure thrust until he’s fully seated inside. he’s filling you up perfectly, like he was made just for you. or you were made just for him, you can’t tell anymore. his hands run up and down the corset, fingers playing with the ribbing as he moves in and out of you shallowly.

“min,” you whine, bottom lip trembling as your legs shake, desperate for him to move, to do something, anything. “more.”

“you want more?” he says, pushing into your hear harshly, punching the air out of your throat as you choke on a sob. you nod, a few stray tears escaping you as he finally sets up a brutal rhythm, his hair matting against his forehead with sweat; he’s just as desperate for you as you are for him.

he slams into you, over and over, the force of his hips moving your body synchronously with his. each thrust sends fireworks sparking up your spine, bursting behind your eyes until you can’t control them from rolling to the back of your head again.

you gather the strings at the front of the corset and clumsily press them to his palm.

“pull,” you breathe out, thoughts not coherent enough to say anything else. his hips stutter in surprise, stopping completely as he slumps a bit into you, breathing hard.

“are you sure?“ he says, kitten eyes wide with curiosity. you nod vigorously, the moment making your head spin, even more when he resumes his movement with a newfound intensity. he wraps each string around his hands, flexing his fists before tugging, sharp and strong. you feel your breath constrict, your lungs lodged up in your throat and your heartbeat loud in your ears. you’ve never done anything like this before, anything past his wandering hand squeezing lightly against your throat, never enough to rob you of your breath. you don’t even realize you’re cumming until it hits you all at once, a crescendo of waves washing over you, leaving you fucked out and dazed with pleasure. he lets go of the strings, your breath rushing back into your lungs as he works you through your orgasm, one hand moving to rub circles into your clit while the other slides along your waist.

his own breath is coming out in short bursts, close to his release, but you’re too overwhelmed to notice when he spills inside of you. you’re dizzy, lightheaded in the best way, barely whining when he pulls out. he presses a few tender kisses to your lips, your forehead, your cheek, but you still make a sad noise at him when he walks away to find a rag to clean you up with.

your breathing is still shallow when comes back, constricted by the ribbing in the corset, and it does nothing to help the lightheadedness you’re feeling. he tugs on the strings with gentle fingers, loosening them and helping you sit up so he could tug it off over your head. he lays you back down, massaging at the indentations the hard edges of the corset left into your skin. you sigh into him, letting him pull you into his arms and pillow your head on his chest.

“you always take such good care of me,” he murmurs, tracing idle patterns into your bare skin. “my pretty girl.”

[multifandomworldsposts]

Trouble

Pairing: mafia!austin butler x stripper!reader

A/N: I watched the musical Chicago and I got the idea to do something similar to a scene in the movie. And this story is based in the 20s.

warning: smut, reader getting eaten out, make outs

Y/N’s POV

I get ready for my performance that I’ve been working on for awhile. I hope it goes well. I put my eyeliner on until I hear footsteps behind me, I look in my mirror and it’s Lola.

“Hey Y/N, you on in 12 minutes.”

“Thanks Lola.” I still look at her in the mirror.

12 minutes later

I go to the curtains to do my entrance and kinda got nervous. Jules saw that I was nervous so she hugged me from the behind and whispers in my ear,

“Just breathe in and out and pretend that there’s no one there.” I nod and looked at her and said “Thank you.”

“Go kick ass baby!” She kisses my right cheek and goes back to the dressing rooms.

“Ladies and Gentlemen, please welcome, Sparkle.”

All eyes are on me, I get on the chair and did my pose, which a lot of the women here thought it was sexy. The piano starts to play, I start to dance. I walk up to in front of the stage and noticed a attractive man with other men. He notices me, his friends starts whistle, he gave me a look that I’ve seen before, a look that says, She’s mine for tonight.

I do my ending pose and try to walk off stage really sassy, I hear a lot of clapping, I nailed it!

Jules gave me water and I sat at my mirror and tried to relax and bit. I drank a bunch of it.

“Y/N that was fantastic!” Lola approached behind me.

“Oh thank you. I- I’m happy that I did it.”

“So we’re there anyone that caught your eye?” Allison said. I turn around and said

“Well there was this man and he looked so attractive, he gave me this look that I’ve actually have seen before.”

“What was it?” Jules questioned.

“He wants me.” The girls and I giggle.

20 Minutes Later

“Y/N! You have a request!” Allison gives me a folded paper. The women around gathered around and I opened the paper to see what it say.

‘Sparkle, meet me at the table that I was at when you and I made eye contact. A.B.’

A.B.? I wonder who that could be?

“What does it say Y/N?” Jules put her right hand on my right shoulder.

“Read it Jules.” I hand her the note and she starts to read it and looks up at me,

“Well what are you waiting for Y/N/N! Go to him!”

“Okay!” I go to my mirror and retouch my makeup and got my outfit that I had on before getting my costume on and went to usual room to get the outfit on.

I get my purse including my fur coat and said bye to everyone and went out the door to go to the bar. I go to the table where A.B. and I made eye contact and I see him with a drink in his hand. He notices me. He gets up and approaches me

“I’m Austin Butler and you must be Sparkle?”

“Sparkle is my stage name, it’s actually Y/N.”

“That’s even more beautiful.” I get flattered.

“You wanna go somewhere more private Y/N?” He smirks.

“Where to?”

“You’ll see honey.” He takes my hand and takes me to a car that I’ve never seen before.

9 minute car ride

We get to a house, a big one, it looks beautiful. Austin gets out of car and goes to the passenger side and opens the door for me and reaches out for my hands and took me to the front door, which looked beautiful. He opens the door and let’s me in first. I look around and the house already looks beautiful, the front door closes and I feel hands on shoulders, I look behind me, it’s Austin wanting to get my coat off of me. I take my coat including my purse off and Austin takes it to his coat hangers. I turn around to see him and he approaches me and wraps his arms around my waist and says,

“You want a drink?”

“Yeah sure what do you have?”

“Champagne, Vodka, Whiskey, and Wine if you want anything of them.”

“Champagne.”

“Go sit on the couch over there and I’ll get the champagne for ya.” I go to the couch, which looks so comfy.

“I have a question for you Y/N.” Austin says.

“What?”

“When did you start doing, you know, your job?” says while pouring my champagne in a wine glass.

“You can say being a stripper, I don’t mind.” Austin chuckles.

“When did you start being a stripper?” Austin walks up to me and gives me the glass of champagne.

“Thank you. Well I actually was a bartender there at first and every time I would see the dancers doing their routines and I thought it looked fun and I auditioned and I got in.”

I drank a little of the champagne.

“I think you looked really good on that stage.”

“You think so.” I set the glass on the table and look at Austin.

“Yeah Y/N.” He smirks and came closer to me and says,

“The way you danced.” He grabs my waist.

“The way you swayed.” I wrap my hands around his neck.

“And the way, you looked at me.” He gets more closer to me. We start to make out. He stops kissing me to take his clothes off including myself.

9 minutes later

I’m in his bed, heavy breathing, him eating me out. He could tell I’m enjoying it, me lightly gripping on his hair and moaning. He starts kissing my inner thighs, ‘God he’s good’ I thought.

“Thank you baby.” he continues to kiss me.

“I said that out loud?” I look down at him.

“Mm-hmm.” He stops kissing me and gets closer to me to face me.

“I’m so embarrassed.” I said.

“Don’t be hon, now, where we’re we?” He kisses my neck, I can feel him giving me hickeys. I moan again. I look at his dresser and I see a gun. I scared so I stop him.

“What’s wrong?” He looks at me confused.

“Why do you have a gun?”

“Well I bring it with me everywhere I go.” I look at him confused,

“What do you mean?”

“I’m in the mafia.” I get scared.

“What!?” I sit up on his bed and cover myself up.

“It’s not what it looks like Y/N.”

“You’re from the mafia Austin.” He looks guilty.

“So we’re those men with you, were they your members in the mafia?”

“Yes Y/N.”

“Oh god.” I lay on the pillow, hiding my face.

 “I just had sex with a mafia member.” 

“Y/N, I’m still the same guy you met at your work.” I look at him,

 “I know but you should've told me when we met.” 

“I was worried about you not going out with me.”

 “Austin, I would still go out with you, it’s just, I would keep your ‘job’ a secret.”

 “I would keep your ‘job’ a secret.” 

“Those men were with you.”

 “Half the men were there, I would tell them that I met you nowhere near the strip club.” 

“Fine, but I don't want that gun around me or any of my coworkers.” He starts kissing me.

I kinda don’t trust him but I can trust him in bed. 

[seasonofthewicth]

nobody does it like you do - act 3

Here is act 3!!! Thank you so much for all of your enthusiasm so far! Hope you enjoy :)

8.6k - masterlist - ao3

--

Aelin has never really thought of herself as someone with a lot of friends. She’s always had Elide, Aedion and Lysandra, but they almost fall into a separate category. Like what they’ve been through surpasses friendship, and she thinks at this point Elide and Lysandra are as much her family as Aedion.

Throughout her years in the industry she hasn’t made many friends, Chaol and Dorian are probably the only two, but she's learned how things work. It didn't take her long to realise that all the girls she met at auditions, and bonded with over all of the things they had in common, would have stabbed her right in the back at the earliest opportunity.

It's cutthroat, but she can't say she's never succumbed to the temptations.

She’d be lying if she said she’d never pretended she was there to audition for another character just to get the other actress to spill her analysis of the character. She can’t say it was unintentional when she’d leave the audition room and then pretend to take a phone call where she’d discuss how pleased the casting director had been with her take and had promised to call, watching the faces fall of the other hopefuls she waltzed past.

She can’t say she’d never do it again.

That said, she feels like she has a good thing going with Fenrys, Manon and Rowan. They've hung out a couple of times and she likes them admittedly more than she thought she would at first. The dynamic is fast and snappy, funny and sarcastic, and she can feel herself getting back into the old motions.

Aelin knows they’re friends now, and it feels really fucking good, but she has one concern. She’s not entirely sure that what she feels for Rowan can be described as friendship and she’s kicking herself for letting it happen. The physical attraction she can excuse, he looks how he looks and she’s defenseless against that, but the rest? The rest is where she’s really let herself go.

He’s opened up to them a lot more now, and they spend a lot more time together than they did at the start. Just last week she had thrown herself into her seat at the end of a long day of shooting and plunked her feet in his lap. She had expected him to throw them off and growl something at her, but he had simply rested his left hand on her ankle and continued to scroll through his phone with his right.

It had felt far too easy to settle into his touch, and far too enjoyable to have the heat of his skin against her own.

Even so, there’s a level of detachment to his interaction with them. He falls somewhere between bemused dad and despairing lecturer tasked with herding a group of unruly children through a life or death venture. He curses actors all day long but he’s just as dramatic. There are moments when she catches him beginning to smile at a comment from Fenrys or the bickering she and Manon do before he halts himself and seems to rein it back in.

She wants to see him grin.

It’s kind of weird to think back to the first week of shooting and how unsure she felt around them, how insecure she was of her own ability compared to theirs, but by now she’s pretty sure she’s past the worst of that and she doesn’t want to waste any more time doubting herself, at least in comparison to them. It helps when Rowan makes little comments like nice job, Aelin or when she catches the nod he does after she nails a scene, especially when he tries to hide it.

She posted a picture on Instagram of the four of them from set last week, her and Manon crouched at the front wrapped up again in the massive coats they give them on set, their faces almost completely covered by the puffed up collars, and Rowan and Fenrys stood behind them, their arms crossed across their chests and faces twisted into overly dramatic imitations of anger. It had taken some pleading and possible bribery from Fenrys to get Rowan to agree to the pose, but they had succeeded in the end.

She had captioned it so we stole their coats… and tagged each of them, watching as the likes came flooding in. Only seconds later the comments had begun to run a bit wild.

This is going to be so good I can already tell.

fenrys looks so hot fuck me up

ARMS!ARMS!ARMS!ARMS!

Are they dating?

She stopped reading the comments pretty quickly after that.

They’re about a third of the way into shooting, and Aelin knows what she’s accomplished so far is some of her best work. It hasn’t been easy, but she’s put hours and hours of her time into understanding her character and she feels like she truly knows Feyre, and almost sees some of herself in her. There are differences of course, Aelin isn’t quite as naive as Feyre or as forgiving, but they’ve both been dealt a shitty hand, and Aelin likes to think she’s working just as hard as Feyre to pick herself back up.

She finishes the take, and slaps her usual high-five against Fenrys’ palm and sends her regular nod over to Rowan. Good? Her nod asks. Good, his own gesture returns. She tucks her smile away as she begins to wander over to where he’s stood chatting with a producer.

She’s built a habit of going over to him once they finish shooting, she wants to seek him out constantly, and she feels drawn to him in a way that she’s beginning to lose the fight against. She’s about halfway towards him when she spots a tall head of brown hair making its way towards her.

She barely has time to process before there are a pair of strong arms around her waist and she’s being lifted up and swung around, her feet dangling inches above the ground.

“Hello, superstar.” His voice is deep in her ear and she can feel the vibrations where she buries her face into his neck.

“Gods! I thought you weren’t coming for another two weeks.”

She gasps as he places her back down on the ground and she can finally smile up at Chaol. Taking in the chestnut-brown of his hair and the faint creases beginning at the corners of his rich brown eyes. Gods, she’s missed him.

She’s known he’d be visiting the set at some point. The Crescent City is his baby, a script he’s been working on for years, and she knows he couldn’t stomach leaving it all to Rowan without any supervision.

He had first mentioned it to her a few years ago, but back then it was nothing more than an idea. Aelin knew he had been chipping away at it in the background for a while and it wasn’t a surprise when he first sent it to her. It’s different now though, now that there’s a budget and a set and actual progress made in getting it on screen.

It feels like a big deal to her; she can’t imagine how Chaol feels.

She had never dreamed though, through all of their midnight conversations about it and their half-dreaming out loud discussions, that she would be the one to star in it.

Chaol just grins at her, a twinkle in his eyes that she knows means he’s happy, and says “thought I’d surprise you.”

“It’s definitely a surprise.” She leans up to wrap her arms around his neck for a second time. She squeezes him tight and breathes him in, his smell is comforting and it makes her feel young again. “How long are you here for?”

He gives her waist a short squeeze, reminding her that his hands are still resting there with hers still up on his shoulders. It’s not the closest she’s ever been to him, and it doesn’t cross her mind for her touching him so freely to be an issue.

“A couple of days.” He smiles down at her again. “Lunch?”

“Of course, let me change first?” She asks, releasing his shoulders and turning to walk back to her trailer. He holds a hand out, as if to say lead the way.

She sets off as he follows, and she can feel the lightness of the wide smile across her face. It’s a kind of comfort now that Chaol is here, he’s taken care of her for so many years and his presence grounds her in a way she hasn’t really found with many other people.

Rowan still stands with the producer behind where some of the team are tinkering with the filming equipment. His brow is drawn into a frown and the producer standing with him has begun to look profoundly uncomfortable.

The take was good, she knows that, and when he runs a jagged hand over his face a jolt of concern strikes her. He looks anguished, or frustrated, and she wonders how he’s soured so quickly after the silent exchange they shared mere moments ago.

His gaze snaps to hers and it’s a powerful thing. His stare weighs heavily into her, so much so she wants to look away and her steps falter. The stumble is barely perceptible, but she sees it and thinks maybe he does too. There’s something thorny in the pull of his brows and the twist of his mouth and she wants to go over, ease his troubles, but that’s not her place. And Chaol is inches behind her following her lead.

Rowan’s eyes flick to Chaol and his mouth twists further. And not to get ahead of herself yet again, but surely not, right? His gaze switches back to rest on her, only for a second longer before he mouths something short and sharp to the producer and disappears.

Aelin shakes it off. She might think they’re friends, but as has become her mantra, he’s her boss. What she needs is something gentle and simple and uncomplicated. In the real world, everything she wants from Rowan is decidedly complicated.

Sitting opposite Chaol is a place she’s been many times before. More often than not, Dorian would have taken up the mantle at Chaol’s side, the pair of them closer than brothers. They have the kind of relationship she thinks truly cannot exist for people other than the two of them.

The level of understanding they share, the lengths they would go to for each other, it’s unparalleled and she longs to find a bond like that one day.

When she was younger being sat in a position like this, opposite Chaol, so close they could whisper to converse, would have been a dream. She had a bit of an infatuation with him when she first met him; he was a few years older than her, charming, handsome and calming. He had been her entrance to the world she lives in now and he had kept her safe and taken care of her.

She had thought he was everything she wanted.

She had realised pretty quickly, after going in for an ill advised kiss that he had swerved, that that would never be an option for them. He had let her down kindly and gently, which she appreciates now, even if it felt like a blow at the time.

He hadn’t let her pull back from him though, he had kept her close until she eventually got over the embarrassment and was able to look at him without blushing. It’s not something she dwells on now, she was young and naive and she could have done a lot worse than Chaol.

He was who she had gone to when she had met Sam. She had waxed poetic to him about the boy with the curly brown hair and the shy smile. She smiles lightly to herself at the thought of him, what he would make of where she’s at now.

He’d kiss her cheek with his arms around her waist, boasting how his girl, his baby, was a star in the making. She swallows the thought, struck by both the image and the lingering pain it brings, but also by the knowledge that she’s gone a couple of days without thinking of him.

She hasn’t thought of the boy with the brown eyes in a few days, hasn’t woken up screaming in even more. She breathes past the panic that threatens in her throat, both at the idea that she hasn’t thought of Sam for a while and the reasons there could be for that.

“How is the love of my life?” She focuses back on Chaol and watches him try very hard not to choke on his mouthful of his drink.

He had picked the cafe, even though she’s been in Rifthold for a while it is still far more his space than hers, and he knows the hidden gems like this that she isn’t privy to yet. It’s rustic and cosy, the brick walls have colourful bunting draped between them and none of the chairs inside match. She’ll have to come back if the food is good, the atmosphere inside is relaxed and busy enough that she can feel completely anonymous. She doesn’t want to leave, maybe next time she can bring a book.

“My beautiful wife is well,” he manages once he swallows, and she smirks at how he knows exactly what she’s asking. “Almost past the second trimester now, and still refusing to slow down.”

That sounds exactly like Yrene. She says as much and Chaol nods wearing the expression of a man who, if he didn’t love his wife so much, would be tired of chasing after her.

Yrene is a whirlwind of energy and efficiency and it’s why she’s one of Aelin’s favourite people. She’s full of exciting tales and inspiration, that is, when she can get Yrene to slow for a second enough to catch up. She probably doesn’t need her high paced job as a doctor in Rifthold General Hospital, like, Chaol’s scripts are successful, he’s won a number of awards that sit in a special cabinet in their house, but that’s just how Yrene is.

Caring and kind and so, so smart. If Aelin didn’t do what she does, she’d love to be like Yrene.

“Second trimester?” She cries. “He’s almost here!”

Chaol is again at risk of choking. “Aelin, please. I still have a few months left to get ready.”

He looks almost panicked and she scoffs. “Chaol, please.” She mocks his tone perfectly and ignores the eye roll he gives her. “You were born ready. You’ve basically raised me for the past few years and look how well I’m doing.”

He laughs, and she smiles, it’s exactly the reaction she wanted.

“I’m not sure that’s the glowing compliment you think it is,” He says dryly and she just pokes her tongue out at him.

“Chaol,” she begins, seriously this time. “You are already the best dad I know, you’ll be fine. And if not, the baby has Yrene, so he’ll definitely be fine.”

He doesn’t bite on any of it, just looks bashfully to the table cloth and nods. She can’t resist one last comment.

“And even then, he’ll have me and Dorian.”

“Gods, Aelin. The thought will send me to an early grave.”

She tilts her head to the side and sketches a flip of her hair over her shoulder. The combination of her and Dorian and a baby probably would give Chaol a heart attack but she’ll embody her role as the cool aunt, and Dorian can more than handle the cool uncle.

“Do you not want your child to be cool?” She knows he’s barely finding her funny at this point but she’s missed him and she loves winding him up.

He’s saved from having to respond by the arrival of their food. She stares longingly at his burger and greasy side of fries and forces herself to take a mouthful of her wilted salad.

After a few bites she notices his expression, something pinched around the corners of his mouth, and she knows there's something he wants to say.

To say that Chaol is less invested in her sobriety than Aedion and Lysandra would be a lie, but he doesn’t question it as openly as they do, so she doubts what he wants to say is anything to do with that. She’s ordered an orange juice to spice it up, and he has a tap water that he ordered without question so she thinks he mustn’t be concerned.

“What?” She says slowly, whatever it is she wants to know, and the pain of waiting for him to spit it out was almost too much.

He shakes his head and pops another fry into his mouth. She can’t resist stealing one and a swipe of ketchup off his plate.

He begins carefully, after using his napkin to dab at the corner of his mouth. “How is it going? You read the script pretty early on, do you think…”

He trails off, and seems to pause while he considers his words, but she doesn’t need him to finish.

“Chaol, I think it’s going really well,” she says and it’s sincere. “And it’s not just because I’m in it.”

It’s far easier to crack jokes and reassure others than it is to be the one being reassured.

He shoots her an unimpressed look, but she knows her words have done their job. Even through her faults she knows he trusts her judgement.

“I feel like you asked that in a way that meant you thought it wasn’t going well.”

She’s fishing a little, but Chaol is a gossip at heart, even worse than Dorian despite how he’d deny it.

He sees right through her, but relents as he takes another bite of his burger. She stabs another bundle of lettuce, dipping it in a pool of dressing resting in the bottom of her bowl as he swallows and speaks.

“I didn’t think it would go badly, but Fenrys Moonbeam has a bit of a reputation, and I just hope he’s taking it seriously. I put a lot of work into it.” He pauses and Aelin just waits. It doesn’t seem like he’s quite done. “Rowan Whitethorn too. But I think his reputation is a bit different.”

It puts her in a bit of a weird position with a sharp taste in her mouth, wanting to defend her new friends to one of her oldest, but Chaol has to understand that how he sees them isn’t right.

“I don’t think either of them is quite how you think.” She says it gently because she doesn’t want to risk irritating Chaol with this. “Fenrys works really hard, you know. He’s putting a lot of work into understanding Rhys, Rowan too. He puts a lot of thought into what he does, he’s really smart.”

He’s watching her silently, his eyes shining with a question she doesn’t want to answer.

“You’ve written an incredible story Chaol, we all want to do it justice.”

The quirk of his eyebrow is somewhat impressed as he takes her in, but maybe there’s something more in there. Something that catches the difference between the way she talks about Fenrys compared to the way she talks about Rowan.

“I’m glad,” is all he says.

“It’s going well,” she says and truly believes it. “I’ve said it before, but it really is a work of art, Chaol.”

She pauses, her next words thick in her throat. “Thank you… for writing it, I mean. It means a lot to me, and I am honoured to play this part.”

He nods thankfully, and she knows he appreciates the compliment but his response is typical Chaol. Quiet and understated but shining with sincerity.

There’s a moment before the corner of his mouth pulls upwards and she knows he’s just about to turn the game around and tease her now.

“A part of me wishes I hadn’t written so many intimate scenes between them, the thought of you and Fenrys Moonbeam…” He trails off.

She tugs her lips inwards between her teeth, pleading with the blush on her neck not to rise. They haven’t got to those scenes yet, and she’s been avoiding the idea of them. She doesn’t want to think about what she’ll have to do with Fenrys in a couple of weeks.

Fenrys isn’t the problem though, she knows he’ll be professional and respectful. The problem is that Rowan will be there, watching them, watching her, and the idea plays with her in a dangerous way. Everything about Rowan feels dangerous to her, and gods if that isn’t half the draw.

“I know we joked before, but you do know you’re not my father? You’re worse than Aedion,” she laughs.

Chaol just shakes his head, “I’m allowed to look out for you.”

“I didn’t say you weren’t, but you’re only, what? Five years older than me?”

“Six. And Rowan Whitethorn is older than me.” The way he says it is noticeable, like he has a point to make.

“He is?”

So she didn’t know that, but it worries her how it doesn’t change things even a little bit. It doesn’t change how attractive he is, or the fact that she should be going nowhere near the idea of the two of them. She needs to call Elide, or her actual therapist.

“Yes, I think he was in the year above me at the Royal.”

She really doesn’t know all that much about him, hadn’t even known he went to the stage school in Adarlan.

What she knows is the fleeting moments she sees of him behind the camera, the expressions he makes when he’s impressed and when he’s not. She knows things like his coffee order, his hatred for the little pastries the catering department provide and how he doesn’t seem to drink alcohol. She knows about Lyria, but it’s from the internet, not him.

She doesn’t know him.

“Oh,” is all she manages.

Chaol eats another fry, watching her the whole time, and she wants him to look away. She has nothing to feel guilty about; they haven’t done anything. She has one, probably inadvisable, crush on her boss that she’ll speak to Elide about and get over. Then the movie will be done and she won’t ever have to see him again.

The dropping sensation in her stomach at the thought is less than desirable.

Chaol stays for a few days. He hangs around on set and sits in her chair while she films. It’s a pleasant kind of relief, tinged with an element of nostalgia, to have him around. He makes her feel like a kid again, and she feels herself looking towards him for approval when she desperately avoids how she wants to do the same to Rowan.

He relents on the second day, after having met Fenrys and Rowan properly, and admits to her that he thinks his baby is probably in good hands. She just says “I told you so,” because she’s a child and annoying Chaol is fun.

She’s sitting in Manon’s chair next to him, and they’re talking about Aedion. He and Chaol have a friendship she likes to pretend doesn’t stem from a mutual concern for her. Chaol is saying something about how he doesn’t envy Aedion’s schedule, but she’s barely listening.

Aelin’s watching where Rowan stands a few feet away. He’s wearing a soft-looking black sweatshirt and jeans, and she can’t help but imagine how it would feel to slip the sweatshirt on herself. How it would still be warm from his body, how the sleeves would trail way past her fingertips, how the smell of him would surround her.

He’s directing Manon, gesturing jaggedly with his hands and she’s nodding along. The shades of their hair almost match, Aelin notices absently, but she prefers the silver shine to Rowan’s compared to the clean-white of Manon’s. Rowan makes a gesture with his right hand and his fingers flex in a rhythmic movement, the elegant lengths of his fingers flowing freely in motion.

She wants to take that hand and put it on herself, she wants to run it down her side and between her thighs. She wants to take his fingers into her mouth and suck.

And like, what the fuck Aelin?

Texting Rowan is, objectively, a bad idea. Not that it’s a bad idea to text a colleague and ask to hang out, it’s just that that isn’t exactly what she wants to get from texting him. So yes; it’s a bad idea, and Aelin knows this, but she’s been thinking of doing it for a couple of days and the desire to do so hasn’t faded. She’s thought about it for long enough that she’s rationalised it, it’s not rash.

Aelin wants to know Rowan.

She taps away at her screen, hi rowan… No. That's not right. Aelin deletes it.

Hey, I was wondering if you wanted to… Nope. Not right either. She bites her lip while she backspaces the string of letters.

She wants to seem casual, so if he’s not into it it’s not awkward. Aelin’s a feminist, but she still doesn’t want to outright ask him out until she’s tested the waters a little more, got a bit of a better read on him and whether he could be into it or not.

She thinks he is, at least a little bit. She knows his eyes linger on her sometimes, sometimes her face, sometimes her arse. She likes it, but whether all he feels is attraction, or whether he feels the same as her is a mystery.

She still hasn’t spoken to Elide about it, but there’s a devil on her shoulder whispering that she’s probably past the point of no return already.

i’m sick of takeout, she types. want to go and grab a bite somewhere???

Aelin taps send before she can overthink it. She can always invite Fenrys to come along too if Rowan doesn’t seem keen on doing something just the two of us.

It’s not long before her phone buzzes with a response. You’re sick of takeout, so you want to go and eat out?

She chews the inside of her cheek, his response doesn’t really give her much. And while it’s not a rejection, it’s not a yes. Maybe her text was stupid, gods, why didn’t she think-

Her phone buzzes again. How about I cook something instead?

Much better. She smiles as she writes her response.

i don’t really want food poisoning :/// my boss might be a bit pissed if i can’t work

The bubble with the three dots pops up immediately, and her thumbs hover over the screen as she waits.

Ha. Ha. He sends, and she can’t fight the little laugh that escapes her as she imagines him rolling his eyes at her. His next text comes through pretty quickly. I’m on board with going out if you want, just thought something more private could be better.

And shit. There are a number of ways she could interpret that. Aelin’s trying not to read into things, things like Rowan saying he wants to go somewhere private with her, he could just be talking about paparazzi. Damn, he probably is just talking about paparazzi.

oh yeah sounds good actually but pls don’t poison me

He just sends a straight faced emoji.

Aelin leans back into her couch as he sends another follow up text.

Do you want to come here?

She could, but he hosted last time. And while she liked the atmosphere at Rowan’s house, she can’t deny that she likes the idea of him here. She likes the idea of seeing Rowan making his way around her kitchen, likes the idea of Rowan sitting opposite her at the end of this couch.

or you could come here????

She bites the corner of her nail as she stares at her screen, waiting for his response to come through.

Sure. I’ll swing by the store to grab some ingredients. How many people am I cooking for?

Aelin pauses, her thumbs hovering above the keyboard.

was thinking 2 but i can invite others if you want

She thinks that’s pretty clear, but it also puts the ball in his court. She’s the most nervous she’s been so far as she waits for his reply, and the three dots pop up before disappearing again. They pop up again, before finally his message comes through.

Don’t. His text reads. I’ll pick up enough for two.

His response is pretty clear too, and she smiles as she sends three thumbs up emojis.

Her apartment isn’t dirty, or even messy, but once she’s locked her phone she’s up and full of nervous energy. It’s probably presumptuous to make sure her bed is made, but she does it anyway. She leaves the leggings and oversized sweater she wears on, it’s casual, she’s chilled out. Or she can at least pretend to be.

She’s doing her last round of the apartment, keeping her eyes peeled for any stray socks or underwear that she could have left anywhere. A blush threatens her cheeks at the thought of Rowan and her underwear, but she forces it down when there’s a sharp knock at the door.

She swings the door open and there he is.

He looks good, as always, but today it’s highlighted by the deep green military-style jacket he has thrown on over his plain white t-shirt. The tan of his skin always looks good against bright white, and the green of his jacket draws out the depths of his green eyes.

“Hey,” she breathes as their eyes meet.

He smiles, a slightly crooked thing, and he just looks even more attractive. “Hey.”

He’s carrying a brown paper bag pressed against his side in his left hand, and she reaches out to take it from him as she steps aside to let him in. He steps in, but resists her grab for the bag, instead wrapping his right arm around her waist to pull her into a brief hug. “Thanks for having me.”

His words take her back to the first time she visited his house. The time with Fenrys and Manon and the football game. The visit with her and Rowan in his kitchen.

She’s nowhere near as stiff with him as she was then and she lets herself relax into the hug.

“I only let you in on the promise of food,” she says into his chest and feels more than hears his reluctant snort of laughter.

Every time they touch she’s struck by how much she likes it. How much she wants more. But then he pulls back, twisting to push her door shut.

“I feel like I should let you know now before we go any further that I can’t cook.”

Rowan only raises a brow.

“Seriously, when I was in college I set off the fire alarm in my residence at least three times.”

“Three times?” His eyes widen in playful disbelief. “What were you making?”

“Well,” she laughs. “The first time I was trying to make Lysandra a birthday cake but then I got distracted and left it in the oven for three hours. The fire department got called but it was not that big of a deal, there wasn’t a fire.”

There’s laughter dancing in his clear green eyes as she regales her tale of youth. She practically beams at the knowledge that she has put it there.

“But our kitchen did smell like smoke for the rest of the year.”

“That doesn’t sound like you’re bad at cooking.” Rowan tilts his head down at her and she realises they’re still standing in her entryway. “That sounds like you don’t pay attention.”

Aelin shrugs at his teasing. “The third time was the worst. I was trying to do that thing where you put vodka in pasta sauce.”

“Gods,” Rowan’s laughing now and she loves the low rumble of the sounds. It pricks the hairs on her arm as the sound washes over her skin.

“There were some flames,” she confesses and he winces.

She didn’t have a completely normal college experience, she was acting part time in very minor roles during her time there but she managed to make some memories in her short time there. After Sam she dropped out and the memories always leave a bittersweet taste in her mouth.

Talking about this with Rowan and laughing at her silly little anecdotes is one of the first times it hasn’t hurt.

“Sucks to be an actor,” he says mockingly with a nod into her apartment as she finally leads him into the kitchen. The apartment she’s staying in is fine, more than fine, it’s actually a really great apartment and she tries to fake a frown through her smile.

Aelin shrugs. “We can’t all be big, household-name directors, living in glamorous mansions, too famous to go out to eat.”

She shoots him an amused look, and Rowan just smirks, tilting his head to the side in a way that exposes the length of his throat.

So maybe this was a fucking dangerous idea.

Inviting Rowan to her apartment had seemed like a good idea at the time, but now he’s here, now he’s in her space, looking all… damn him, he looks so fucking good she feels flushed.

She used to think brunettes were her type, Chaol and Sam were both brunette, with tanned skin and brown eyes. Recently though, as much as she wants to resist it, her type has pretty much become Rowan.

Rowan with his silver hair, and green eyes. His low voice with it’s lilting accent from across the sea. His skin is tanned too, but she knows it comes from spending hours outside rather than genetics.

She hasn’t thought seriously about another man since they started filming, or more likely since the moment they met in the hallway.

And if she allows herself to admit it, probably a lot earlier than that.

She shakes herself as he watches her.

Rowan smirks at her as he places the bag on the counter. “We’ll have to try not to set this kitchen on fire.”

She’s perched atop her counter, with one knee crossed over the other, as she watches Rowan unpack the items from the bag. He’s shucked off the jacket by now, and the t-shirt he wears gives her uninterrupted access to the image of his toned arms and the tattoo that swirls down his left side.

She realises a moment too late that he’s asked her a question.

“What?”

She can tell Rowan knows why she didn’t respond, she just hopes it’s not too much for him. From the smirk he wears she thinks maybe not.

“I’m trying to teach you a valuable skill, it may help to pay attention.” She flips him off and revels in the dark flash of a smile he offers. “I asked if you have a frying pan.”

Aelin pulls a face, she hasn’t done a lot of cooking here past the basics like pasta and soup. Her microwave has been a trusty companion.

“I don’t know.” She waves a hand to the cupboards that line the side of the room. “Have a look in there.”

He gives her a look that tells her he’s deciding whether or not he likes her giving him orders, but then he turns to rummage through her cupboards before returning triumphant and waving the silver frying pan in her face.

“So, what are you making for me?” she asks as he finds a chopping board and unloads the hoard of vegetables he brought with himself.

“Veggie burgers,” he states simply, and she knows she pulls a face because he laughs. “Before you complain, they’re good for you. And they’re tasty.”

She still wrinkles her nose at him, unconvinced.

He cocks his head as he pauses his rhythmic chopping of the leafy green vegetable he has on the board. She’s trying desperately hard to make eye contact and not just stare at the motion of his hands, and his arms, and the ink swirling down his skin.

“Didn’t I promise not to poison you? Do you not trust me to take care of you?” Aelin doesn’t think she’s reading into things to hear the flirty tone to his voice.

“I’ll let you know after I’ve tried the burger.”

Rowan shakes his head at her, the ghost of a smile floating across his face as he resumes his chopping. “Ye of little faith.”

Aelin just shrugs, making a show of being sceptical by turning her nose.

“You could always help,” Rowan comments. “Or do you regularly invite guests around expecting them to make you a meal?”

“Tell me what to do, chef.” Aelin holds her hands out, ready for instruction. “I am yours to instruct.”

Rowan nods and reaches back into the bag and pulls out a can, he turns to find a bowl and a fork and places them in front of her. She’s impressed that in under half an hour he knows his way around her kitchen far better than she does.

“Mash these,” he says.

Her disgust isn’t pretend this time and her lip curls. “Mash these beans?”

Rowan nods.

“Mash them?”

“Yes, you do know what that means don’t you?”

Aelin hits him with the fork on the bicep and he laughs again, the sound smooth and rich in her stomach. “Shut up. You’re not convincing me this is going to taste good.”

Even so, she opens the can and is about to tip them into the bowl when Rowan grabs her hand. His fingers are warm and solid where they wrap around her own, and she snaps her eyes to his face at the contact.

“Rinse them first. You warned me and yet I still overestimated your ability in the kitchen.”

He’s smiling slightly, exposing the whites of his teeth, and he’s so close to her face. They’re almost level where she sits on the counter and Aelin swallows. His eyes are bright as he looks at her and she feels her smile grow involuntarily. Something flickers across his face before he clears his throat and steps back letting go of her hand. She misses his touch immediately after it’s gone.

Aelin slides off the bench and turns towards the sink to compose herself, she rinses the beans under the tap and Rowan stays silent while she does.

She turns back and tips them into the bowl and begins to mash as Rowan grates a carrot. Aelin really didn’t know her flat even came with these things.

“This is actually fucking disgusting.”

She’s managed to turn the bean mixture into a grey-ish mush. There’s no way this can taste good, she’s going to struggle even putting it in her mouth without retching.

Rowan snorts. “It’s good for you.”

Aelin wrinkles her nose again, but keeps going. It speaks volumes that she’s willing to trust Rowan on this.

It feels weirdly domestic to be here with him in her kitchen, and they move with an easy kind of synchrony. He adds his chopped vegetables to the bowl and she mixes them together as he readies the pan.

“Up for getting your hands dirty?” Rowan asks her once he’s done, and hell if Aelin doesn’t read far too much into that. The answer is yes.

“Always.” Sue her if she makes sure to look up at him through her lashes, and to bend forwards towards him as she rests her forearms on the kitchen counter.

“Grab a handful of the mixture,” He points to the contents of the bowl. “And shape it into a round patty.”

Aelin goes to put her hand tentatively into the bowl, it’s now a grey-ish mush with flecks of orange and green and she’s dreading it getting under her nails.

“Wait,” Rowan says, and he reaches out to roll the sleeves of her sweater up. It’s such a sweet gesture that it kind of takes her by surprise. The gentleness with which he holds her wrist as he rolls the fabric is nice, and she finds herself watching his face as he does it.

His brows pull together, in an expression she assumes is concentration, as he makes the careful motions. He looks good, she notes, not for the first time.

His thumbs and index fingers move down to squeeze the junction where her wrists meet her hands as he finishes and says, “there you go.”

“Thanks,” she breathes.

Aelin turns back to the bowl, attempting to somehow calm her heart. Rowan really needs to stop touching her if she wants to get over whatever this is. But now that he’s here, and he’s looking at her the way he is, and specifying that he wants to spend time with her, just the two of them…

It’s the first time she allows herself to consider that maybe, just maybe, this isn’t something that’s only dangerous. She finally allows herself to consider the idea that this could be fun, this could be something she could really enjoy. And here, in her apartment just the two of them, he doesn’t have to be her boss. He’s just Rowan and she’s just Aelin.

She really likes that thought.

Rowan clicks the pan on, and the sound startles her out of her head. Aelin hesitates before finally plunging her fingers into the mush and gods, she has some faith in Rowan if she’s going to even consider eating this.

It’s gross, but she manages to shape it into two round patties, and she places them into the pan when Rowan instructs.

Aelin washes her hands as Rowan pays attention to the burgers, and she retakes her seat on the counter after sorting out their plates and condiments. She might not be a great cook, but she can be a good host.

She watches him flip them a couple of times, taking the opportunity to ogle without risk of being caught staring. He has strong arms, and the tattoo snaking down his left makes her mouth water with every flex of his muscles. He has wide hands with long, almost elegant fingers that she wants to link through her own. Aelin is reminded, as he lifts the pan, of the thought she had the other day when he was directing Manon.

It wasn’t the first time she had considered Rowan in a sexual way, but it was the most direct, and she’s not complaining, but sometimes it makes it a little difficult to concentrate in his presence.

Finally, he switches the heat off and turns to place the patties in their buns. Aelin has to admit they look a little better now that they’re cooked, but she’s still not convinced.

He presents her with the plate, wearing a bashful little smile, and she’s taken by how adorable she finds it. He’s actually nervous to hear what she thinks.

She slathers it in ketchup, hoping to make it somewhat palatable and lifts it to her lips, about to take a bite when he speaks.

“We’re eating here?”

Aelin pauses, putting the burger back on her plate. “Where else would we eat?”

Rowan shrugs, still holding his own plate. He doesn’t put any ketchup on his and she’s trying not to be disgusted. She taps the bench next to herself, and Rowan seems to deliberate for a moment before finally hopping up at her side. He towers over her again now that they’re on an even playing field and she likes it. She likes how much bigger he is than her, and likes it even more how she still feels safe with him.

“Okay, now go,” he says, still apprehensive of her reaction, and Aelin makes a big deal of taking a deep breath before her first bite.

She chews it all silently before swallowing, working to keep her expression neutral, and Rowan doesn’t look away from her face the whole time. She purses her lips afterwards, and waits for him to speak.

“So?”

“It’s not terrible,” she admits with a small smile creeping up the sides of her mouth.

Rowan quickly takes his own bite, and she watches the way his fingers dwarf the same bun that fills her hands. He hums his own pleasure.

“Not terrible,” he repeats. “Admit it, it’s good.”

She flips a strand of hair over her shoulder before she takes another bite. She was sceptical -- more than -- when it was still a mush, but she has to admit it’s tasty, and very Rowan. She doesn’t know for sure he’s a health nut, but based on the parts of his body that she’s seen and his distaste for all things sweet, she can guess.

“Maybe,” is all she says before taking another bite. He watches her with a smug smile, one she desperately wants to get rid of. It isn’t helpful that the way she wants to do so is by kissing him.

“Oh!” She jumps down from the counter, throwing her plate to the side, suddenly reminded. “You know what I have that would go perfectly with this?”

She grabs two glasses out of the cupboard and sets them down on the bench in between where she’s been sitting and Rowan. Aelin turns to the fridge before pulling out the small bottle.

Rowan groans, and she tucks the sound to the back of her mind. “Aelin,” he starts. “I don’t want any of that.”

“Come on,” she cries. “A milkshake is an essential with a burger and this is the best I have to offer. If I’d thought ahead I could have at least found a bottle of wine to go with the dinner you cooked for me.”

She’s not entirely sure why she said it, especially when she’s pretty sure she’s deduced that he doesn’t drink, and the reason for it, but it feels like an automatic apology that just slips off her tongue whenever she’s in a setting where alcohol could be a presumption.

Rowan’s expression locks down at her comment and she immediately regrets it.

“Um-” she starts but Rowan clears his throat.

“It’s okay,” he says slowly, avoiding her gaze, “I don’t drink.”

“Oh,” Aelin all but whispers, and it surprises her when Rowan lets out a dark huff of laughter. “I’m sorry.”

“You don’t have to be sorry,” he says, shaking his head. “I’m guessing you know why.”

His voice has a somewhat bitter edge to it that she hates.

“I wasn’t-”

She stops when he finally looks up at her and she sees his expression.

“I’m sorry,” she says again quickly and he only shakes his head and pats the counter at his side.

“You have nothing to be sorry for.”

There’s something in his eyes that makes her retake her seat at his side and pick her burger back up, taking a bite as he takes a breath.

“It’s not something that usually falls into casual dinner conversation.”

“You don’t have to share if you don’t want to.”

It’s something she isn’t sure she realised the importance of at first. The offer of whether to share or not. She fights a desperate war inside of herself every time conversations head down a lane like this. The desire to scream her story from the rooftops squaring off against the desperation to remain closed up where no one will ever know what bubbles just below the surface.

Usually privacy wins. Usually she swallows those words down and stays quiet, keeping this reel of pain and loss and tragedy buried deep within, but here with Rowan, tucked away in the kitchen of her temporary home, the words don’t feel so daunting.

“No.” He shakes his head. “It’s often something that makes other people feel uncomfortable. They pity the guy with the dead fiancée”—Aelin blinks past the way his voice wavers—“but they don’t want to actually hear about it. I’ll spare you the gorey details but after that I couldn’t bring a drink to my lips again. I’ve never so much as considered it — never wanted to.”

There’s an ache beginning in her chest, and she puts her burger back down on her plate. Rowan hasn’t touched his since his first few bites. She desperately wants to comfort him, wants to place a hand on his shoulder and take the pain away any way she can, but she knows from experience that it can’t be done.

This kind of pain, this grief, is something that can’t be taken away. She lives with her grief and her guilt after Sam every day of her life, and she thinks she will forever. No matter how many therapy sessions she goes to, no matter how many days and weeks and months pass, Sam will always be a part of her. Scrawled across her heart in his messy penmanship.

“I understand,” she says quietly. “More than you’d think.”

This is the moment where she could probably finish, where she could twist the conversation back to Rowan and pat his shoulder sympathetically, or where she could tug it to somewhere new and safe.

But she doesn’t often get opportunities like this, in the dim light and the quiet of her flat where the only other sound is the noise coming from the hood above her cooker. She doesn’t often get to talk about this with someone who truly understands.

All of her friends tried in the months after Sam, and gods bless them they still do, but none of them were as close to Sam as she was. They were upset for Aelin and her loss, not at the loss of Sam. And Rowan, who sits next to her staring at the floor, she thinks he could understand.

His gaze lifts from the floor to meet hers as she begins to speak.

“His name was Sam,” she says and Rowan nods.

“I know.”

Aelin feels her breath leave her chest in a whoosh.

“I saw some of the headlines at the time, Aelin I’m so sorry.”

Her jaw works as she tries to find the words, any words, to respond to that. But she’s shaken. She didn’t think anyone knew, or even noticed, outside of her immediate circle. But then she thinks back to the dinner they shared, the way his gaze had burned into her when the conversation had turned to her break. He knows — he has known — and he gets it.

She shakes her head, composing herself enough to speak. “You have nothing to be sorry for.”

His lips twist as she repeats his words back to him.

She doesn’t mean to say, “I knew about Lyria too,” but Rowan just nods, breaking their gaze to stare down at where their hands lie beside each other with an expression she can’t read.

Aelin knows she shouldn’t, for any number of reasons, but she reaches out to twine their fingers together atop the marble of her countertop. His fingers are rough and calloused between her own but the thumb he rubs against the back of her hand is gentle and reassuring.

He doesn’t speak, but there isn’t anything Aelin feels the need to say. It’s a kindred kind of silence, one borne of more pain than either of them could bear to speak aloud, and there’s an awful feeling of comfort in it. She knows he’s thinking of Lyria the way she’s thinking of Sam. But there is a part of her mind, a part that’s like a rising sun creeping above the horizon to break the shadow of night, that’s thinking of Rowan too.

Eventually she picks her burger back up again, it’s cold now but she can reluctantly admit it doesn’t taste horrendous. Their fingers stay linked as they each eat single-handedly, building themselves back up to sharing short stories and playful quips.

She’s glad she invited him, her boss or not.

[punkrockmads]

Found Family

Abby x F! Reader Mini Series

Warnings: Small bit of angst, violence, this chapter is a little bit longer

Chapter Four; Light Of Our Lives

*A MONTH LATER*

Abby has been such a joy to have in my life. I've moved out of the guest room and into Abby's bedroom, the two of us rapidly growing closer over the past month. We've had a couple little bickering matches over whether I should be doing patrol at three months pregnant, but that's to be expected for any couple worried for their baby. She's been a huge help with the baby, always staying by my side during my bouts of morning sickness and my occasional nightmares. We still haven't told Lev, waiting for my baby bump to get a little bigger before telling him. Lev is such a sweet kid, always energetic and happy. He and Abby are always jabbing at each other with their sarcasm and jokes. I sometimes cut in with my own teasing remarks, usually teaming up with Lev to harass Abby. The other day, Lev and I got up early just to sneak downstairs and hit Abby with pillows while she was cooking. Scrambled eggs ended up all over the floor and she made us clean it up but we all thought it was hilarious.

I sit behind Abby on our bed, braiding her soft blonde hair back as she talks.

"So we fell like a thousand feet through a glass ceiling and into a fucking swimming pool." Abby chuckles, telling me the story of the sky bridges for the twentieth time. It's one of my favorites, I'm always asking her to tell it.

"It was not a thousand feet!" Lev yells from his bedroom across the hall. Abby and I burst into a fit of laughter. "It was like ten!"

"Okay well it FELT like a thousand!" Abby yells back between laughs. "Anyways." She sighs, feeling my fingertips brush the back of her neck lightly as I continue to braid her hair. "I crawl out of the pool and lay there sprawled out on my back and Lev looks at me like I'm crazy! He's just up and ready to keep moving as if we didn't just almost die!" The two of us laugh as I use a hair tie to hold the ends of her braid together. I lean forward, placing a kiss on the back of her neck.

"All done." I mumble against her freckled skin. Abby turns around, pressing a sweet kiss on my cheek.

"Thanks, babe." Abby smiles. "You ready to head out?" Abby and I have early patrol this morning. It's rare we get assigned together since Abby is much stronger so she's usually doing assignments that put her muscles to use. Things like helping out with construction, moving heavy equipment, sometimes even helping people move furniture in and out of homes. When Abby does go outside of the base, it's for a supply run that's in a more dangerous area. That part always scares me, knowing they intentionally send her places with unknown numbers of infected. I know why they do it, though. She's more than capable of protecting herself and her group.

"Yeah." I nod. "Just gotta get my boots on." I stand up, getting ready to leave the room when Abby grabs my wrist.

"Uh, babe?" I look back at her, confused. "What's goin' on with your buttons there?" She asks, referring to my black button-up shirt. I look down, noticing two of the top buttons were missing.

"Oh!" I laugh. "So THIS is the shirt with the missing buttons!" I shrug, searching through the clothes in our closet. I find a grey sleeveless shirt hanging up on Abby's side of the closet. I glance back, seeing her making the bed. I take off my button-up, letting it fall to the floor as I take the sleeveless shirt off of its hanger and pull it on. It's a little too big, but I tuck it into my jeans and it fits a lot better. I pick up the button-up, spinning around and tossing it at Abby. It hits her in the face.

"Hey!" Abby looks over at me with a playful glare before freezing. She points at me. "Is- is that my shirt?"

"Perhaps." I grin, doing a little pose with my hands on my hips. "New fashion statement?" I chuckle. Abby walks over to me, putting her hands on my hips. She pecks my lips lightly. I place my hands over hers.

"You're such a dork." She smiles. "C'mon. We gotta get going."

"Alriiiight." I groan. Abby grabs my hand, pulling me into the hall. "Lev, don't be late for school!" I yell from the stairs.

"I'm never late!" Lev yells back.

"Literally last week!" Abby reminds him.

"Fuck you!" Lev replies as Abby and I laugh. I kneel down by the door, putting my brown leather boots on and tying the laces. Abby watches with a playful smile. I grab my dark blue backpack and bow before looking up at her.

"What?" I question, standing back up.

"Nothing." Abby shrugs. She puts a hand on my stomach. "Pretty soon you won't even be able to tie your own shoes."

"Six more months!" I sigh. "And then this little bean will be the reason we don't get a good night's sleep for years."

"I can't wait." Abby chuckles, following me out the front door. The two of us head to the main gate, spotting a few people waiting around talking with each other. "Get us signed out?" Abby asks.

"If you grab us lunch." I reply,

"Deal." Abby agrees. She lets go of my hand, walking off to the right while I continue forward to the booth. A woman with long red hair and blue eyes looks up at me.

"Oh, hey Y/N!" She greets, setting down the clipboard she was holding. "How're you doing?"

"Hey, Kayla." I smile. "I'm doing pretty great! They've got you workin' at the booth instead of the farm?" I pick up the clipboard and pen, signing my name and Abby's on the sign out sheet.

"Yep." Kayla tsks. "Shawn's sick today so I said I'd fill in. Nice break from being covered in dirt all day."

"And the booth is always shady." I shrug. "I'd say Shawn's got us beat!"

"Got that right." Kayla laughs. I jump when I feel a hand on my lower back. Kayla laughs harder. I don't even have to turn around to know who the culprit is. "Hey, Abby!" Kayla greets.

"Hey there." Abby replies, looking at me with a mischievous grin. "I'd love to stay and talk but the rest of our group is here. We gotta head out." I reach up to fix a loose strand of Abby's hair that's fallen in front of her face. She's a couple inches taller than me so I stand on my toes to make to easier.

"Be safe out there, you two!" Kayla calls as I follow Abby toward the group.

"Will do!" Abby turns around to wave back. The two of us join the rest of the group, piling into the back of a military truck and heading out to the first checkpoint where we'll all split into pairs and take separate routes.

Ten minutes later, we get to the first checkpoint, an old bar. I hop out of the truck, Abby following close behind. We get inside, everyone double checking their gear and partnering up.

"Okay." I sigh, everyone looking to me for instructions. I'm not exactly sure why, but Abby says I'm a natural born leader and that they trust my judgement. I had taken on the role as unofficial team leader without even realizing till she had pointed it out to me a few weeks ago. "Our team's covering the north routes today. The northeast route's been a little more active lately so I want four people to take that one just in case things get hairy. Any volunteers?"

"Mike and I can do it." A woman with brown hair says.

I nod. "Alright. Who's going with Mike and Bonnie?"

"We are." A man in the back says, gesturing to him and his partner.

"Okay, Mike, Bonnie, Chris, and Eric on northeast. Hayley, I want you and Moira to take north, okay?" Moira nods and Hayley holds a thumbs up. "Abby and I will take northwest. Be safe out there, guys. Be smart." With that, we all head off on our routes. Abby follows me, making sure to keep an eye on the treeline. The woods around us are full of life. Birds, deer, squirrels, insects... they all create a beautiful melody; the song of nature.

"Y'know..." Abby starts, pulling me out of my thoughts. "It's pretty hot watching you boss people around."

I scoff, kicking the dirt on the path as I walk. "I don't boss anyone around!"

Abby walks beside me, a teasing smile playing on her lips. "You so do!"

"Shut up!" I shove her playfully. She laughs, lightly shoving me back.

"You love me." She hums, taking my hand and kissing my knuckles lightly.

"I do." I hum back. We walk for a bit longer before we reach the first lookout, a gas station attached to a mechanic's garage. We sit and talk for a few minutes, writing in the sign in notebook that there were no signs of infected. After dawdling long enough, the two of us make our way to the second lookout. Ten minutes into our journey, I spot something moving in the trees.

"To our right." I whisper, both Abby and I ducking behind a bush and aiming our guns toward the movement. Just as I'm about to move up closer to try and get an angle, I hear maniacal screaming. I spin around to see a runner charging at me. I have no time to react as I'm shoved violently to the ground with the runner pinning me down, using all of my strength to keep the runner from biting me.

"Y/N!!" Abby screams. Before she can shoot the runner, a second one comes out from the trees. Abby quickly shoots that one before rushing back to my side and ripping the runner off of me. "You motherfucker!" She growls, slamming the runner to the ground and crushing his skull with her boot, the blood splattering on her and me. I lay there frozen, feeling like the wind got knocked out of me. "Shit!" Abby whisper yells. She kneels down beside me as I gasp for air. "Are you okay? Did it bite you?" She's panicking, frantically searching for any sign of injury. I grab her forearms, keeping her from moving them.

"I'm okay, Abby." I assure her when I catch my breath. "I'm okay." Abby grabs my shoulders, helping me sit up.

"Oh shit, your head is bleeding." Abby says, seeing the blood drip down the back of my neck. I feel the warm, sticky crimson flow down the back of my shirt. "We gotta get you back."

"The baby." I whisper, feeling lightheaded as Abby hands me her bag and gets in front of me, helping me onto her back. "We gotta check on the baby."

"We will, sweet girl." Abby says, walking as fast as she can while I cling to her like a little backpack. "Just hang on." I rest my head on her shoulder, closing my eyes as she carries me all the way back to the checkpoint. From there, she uses the radio to call an emergency pickup. She leaves a note for the rest of the team before helping me into the car and telling the driver to get us back as fast as possible. The car ride is a blur. I lean against Abby while she presses her jacket against the back of my head to keep me from bleeding out. I keep my hand on my stomach the whole time. Finally, we get to the infirmary. A nurse cleans me up and stitches the back of my head, giving me water and crackers to help with the dizziness. When I tell her I'm pregnant, she immediately understands my concern and checks the baby's vitals and preps me for an ultrasound.

"Ultrasound?" I ask as the nurse moves the hem of my shirt up to the edge of my bra, exposing my tiny bump. I've never heard anything like that before.

Abby takes my left hand in hers, squeezing it lightly. "It's kinda like a camera." She explains. "It's so they can see the baby. I read about it in a book." As I'm looking at her, I feel something cold and sticky being rubbed lightly on my stomach. I flinch, looking back at the nurse who is applying a clear jelly-like liquid to my stomach. Abby immediately senses my panic, leaning down to press a kiss to my temple. The bed creaks beneath her as she moves. "It's okay." She mumbles against my temple. "It's just to help the camera." I take a deep breath, sighing as I nod, letting Abby know I'm okay. I peck her lips lightly before she sits back up.

"You two make a cute couple." The nurse says, reaching for what I assume is the camera. Abby thanks her as I laugh a little. "You ready to see your baby?" I nod eagerly, Abby doing the same. The nurse presses the camera against my stomach lightly, moving it around as what looks like static appears on the camera. "There." She says finally, holding the camera in one spot. "See that little blob that's kinda shaped like a bean? That's your baby." I gasp, suddenly feeling tears running down my cheeks.

"Abby." I whisper, staring at the little being on the monitor. "Are you seeing this?" I hear Abby sniffle, looking up to see her crying, too.

"That's our baby, honey." She sniffs. I take her other hand in mine, squeezing both of them. "That's our tiny human in there." She's just as amazed as I am.

"It's perfect." I say, laughing a bit at our reactions. The nurse simply gives a proud smile.

"The baby's perfectly healthy, no sign of injuries." The nurse says. Abby and I feel immediate relief. "If you want, I can print out a picture of it for you. This old equipment still works pretty well.

"Absolutely!" Abby says, barely waiting for the nurse to finish her sentence. The nurse cleans off the gel, prints out a photo of our baby, and hands it to me before Abby and I head out to go home. The entire walk home is spent gushing over the photo, feeling like a warm, beautiful light is shining down upon us. When the two of us get home, Abby closes the door before grabbing my face and kissing me hard. My hands instinctively move to her cheeks, my eyes closing as I feel Abby's lips on mine, curving into a smile. She pulls away, leaving me breathless. "You are incredible." She says, only loud enough for me to hear. She strokes my cheeks with the pads of her thumbs. "I love you... so fucking much."

"I love you too." I whisper, pressing my forehead against hers. She kisses me again, this time gently, as if I might break if she kisses too hard. She pulls away after a few seconds, taking my hand and guiding me into the living room. I sit beside her on the couch, my legs resting across her lap and my body leaning into hers. We sit there in peaceful silence, Abby and I staring at the photo of our baby while she rubs gentle circles on my stomach with her warm hand. Just as I'm about to fall asleep, the front door opens.

[transmasc-wizard]

the kitkat sounds wonderful I hope you enjoyed it

ok SO

You already heard about Amaretta, fire magic, made her way here to the city from a tiny fishing village way up north and took a ship and went through mountains and altogether traveled very far but won't talk about most of it, baby of the family, all that. Here's kind of what she looks like except less picture-posed and glammed-up, just imagine like Merida from Brave if she was a real person instead of animated

Then there's Jaena, the only one of the four with a happy childhood. she has earth magic, which her grandfather also had (it skipped a generation), and taught it to her when she was a little girl before he died. she lived in a rural area not too far south of the city where they all end up and her family ran a successful farm/herb garden kind of situation. Unfortunately when drought hit and Jaena's family was the only family whose crops were still doing well, the villagers became suspicious. Magic was regarded with wariness so Jaena's magic was.. kind of a semi-open secret. She tried to sneak out in the night to help the neighbor's crops, too, but was found and there was enormous uproar and all sorts of accusations. To protect her mother and sister, she left quietly and headed north to the city. She's quiet, responsible, has quite the dry sense of humour, is fiercely protective of those she cares about. She's not a doormat but she is sometimes hesitant about confrontation or rocking the boat. At 18 she's the oldest. I couldn't find a good photo for her but she looks kind of like this except her hair's a tiny bit longer, just like tight coils/4c hair about a half inch/inch in all directions, her skin is darker, and she doesn't have like manicured eyebrows and makeup and all that haha

Mariana! Mariana grew up in the city as the daughter of rich merchants from far away across the sea. She was often hidden away in the house because of her water magic, which would ruin her father's credibility if his daughter was found to be a "witch." She tried to just sort of will her magic away and suppress it which... does not work and just makes it more volatile, not as bad as Amaretta, but not exactly controlled. Eventually she ran away/got kicked out (haven't yet decided) and we first see her sobbing while doing funky water magic with her tears. She starts out seeming passive, naive, and sheltered, but soon we get to see a bit more of her personality, she's a bit of a romantic, her moods can change quite quickly, her temper is kind of passive-aggressive, she finds joy and beauty in little things. She was also allowed out into the courtyard to practice archery with a delicate not-really-a-weapon bow as an acceptable outdoor pastime, and it turns out those skills translate quite well to actually-a-weapon bows once you can manage the draw weight. Here she is. I sadly can't find a higher-resolution version of this (stolen stock) image:

And Azha! If there's a main character of the cast, Azha's the main character. She's 16 years old. As a baby she was orphaned/abandoned (circumstances unknown to her), so she was raised about a half a day's ride from the main city in a Namas'kia (House of the Goddess), basically a convent sort of situation where the Namas'kor (Daughters of the Goddess), who are kind of like nuns, run an orphanage. Azha is the only character born without magic. However, when Azha is 8 years old, some of the king's men turned up at the door of the orphanage requesting to be allowed to visit with a child aged 6-10 who was especially resilient. The Namas'kor cared for the children in their house and did NOT care for this delegation, but there wasn't much they could do in the face of an order from the king, so the king's delegation was allowed to see Azha. The delegation had brought along four mages in captivity: one earth, one air, one water, one fire— the four possible magical gifts. Their goal, unbeknownst to Azha or the Namas'kor? Artificially imbue a child with all four gifts, then raise them at the palace as a formidable weapon. Their result? A tired, vomiting child who absolutely cannot manipulate flame, or water, or air, or earth. Considering the mission a failure, they leave Azha behind to recover, and they don't look back. If they had, they might have noticed the small child standing in the shade of the eaves, shadows pooling at her feet, sliding over her shoulders, and dancing at her fingertips.

At 14, Azha leaves the Namas'kia for fear of her magic being discovered. It would be even worse for her than most mages, because not only does she have magic, it's an artificial, corrupted gift that has never been seen before. So she runs to the city and lives on the streets for 2 years, her shadow magic helping her to go unnoticed as she goes about surviving. By the time we meet her, she's used to looking out for herself and only herself, she's wary of others, and she's constantly on the alert and ready to fight. Her resourcefulness, cleverness, and independence make her the leader of the group— she's the most world-wise and wary because even though she's the second-youngest, she's been the longest on her own. She first bonds with Jaena and they're most often on the same page, both of them keep their cool in crazy situations better than Amaretta, who grows furious, or Mariana, who grows panicked.

She looks kind of like this except she's younger and her hair is half this length and none of the makeup earrings fancy clothes etc. Even though those are a lot of differences, I liked this picture because Azha has that same neutral alert always-watching expression as her default facial expression

Bonus: The first book's antagonist, a girl on whom the king's little magic experiment actually succeeded. (I don't have her name or what she looks like yet.) She has all four magical gifts. She's been told that Azha's "corrupted" magic is a threat to the world and the only way to get rid of this threat is to find Azha and kill her. Having been raised in the palace, she believes this. Unfortunately, Azha has no idea that any of this has been happening.

Excited to hear how they would interact with your characters!

it has been an illegally long time since you sent me this ask and i am very very very sorry BUT i have finally!! gotten up the energy!! to answer it!! so yeah

onwards

first of all, this SLAPS. these characters are all so wonderful and interesting, and I'd love to hear more about them! and your worldbuilding is awesome /gen.

so, I think Amaretta would.... not get along with Vanya, per say, but rather be forcibly adopted by him. He's only 17, but he would definitely feel very protective over a chaotic person like her. She and Angel would also immediately team up and see what chaotic fuckery they could cause with combined fire and necromancy powers i think. Corey would find her insufferable, but he finds everyone insufferable, so it would not be personal.

Jaena..... im going to jump over to RoseLibrariansVerse and say that Jaena and Eleanor would get along perfectly. they both seem to be the quiet, slightly anxious type who just wants to help the people they love. Popping back into GFSverse, Jaena and Oliver would either get along really well bc they seem to have similar motives, or have that whole "you are Too like me and i don't like that" thing. Also, to take a peek at the val saintly gang, Jaena and Val would definitely be good friends.

Mariana..... first, i want to give her a hug. Second, she and Charlie Roselibrarians would get along very well i think! They're both people who seem very kind if not passive, who suppress their natural instincts at some point in their lives. Mariana and Hope Gfsverse would also work really well together, for gfsverse-y spoiler reasons. I think Rowan would, and i mean this nicely, Hate Her, though. Rowan is the type of person who's very quick to judge, and would probably slot Mariana in the "useless" pile due to not bothering to look beyond the surface.

Azha! My gut instinct is "Angel would relate very strongly to her", because Angel also has weird shadow powers that aren't smiled upon very strongly. Val Valsaintly would also see Azha as a kindred spirit i think, or maybe a little sibling to protect, due to how Val was also sorta... forced into things she had no choice in. Azha also seems like one of the rare people that Corey Gfsverse would actually really like.

the antagonist...... rowan would be fascinated by her, because that's really similar to her own situation. That basically sums up what I have to say there.

Overall I think the main characters of my various ideas would actually interact really well with yours! I could see them causing chaos and/or world-saving with them.

Again, this is just generally really really cool, and sorry for taking so long!!

[nctsjiho]

King JiHo (Favourite JiHo moments)

Fan Video by ‘Haechan’s Children’ on YouTube

(indented text = comments added by the maker of the video) I’m 100% convinced that this is JiHo’s world and we’re just living in it. Here’s some moments that prove this <3 Enjoyyyy~~

[[N'-135] New Thangs🙆‍♀️🙆‍♂️New Thangs👍👃 | ‘영웅(Kick It)’ 인기가요 대기실 비하인드]

NCT 127 was chilling in their dressing room, backstage, waiting for their turn to perform ‘Kick It’. JiHo sat in one of the chairs in front of the mirrors, ready to get her make up done. Taeyong who was holding the camera walked up to the girl ready to interview her.

“And here we have our lovely JiHo getting ready for our stage.” He commented, earning a hum from the girl. “How are you feeling- oh? What’s that?” The camera wasn’t pointed at anything anymore as Taeyong leaned in closer to the girl then readjusted the camera again to focus on JiHo. His hand reached out to grab her chin and his thumb lightly pressed against a purple spot beneath the left corner of her lip. “Is it real?” The concern was audible in his question and JiHo nodded.

“I thought it was fake! What happened? When did you get that bruise? It looks painful.” Taeyong kept firing out questions which had both JiHo and the make up artist, who was currently working on her, laughing. “It doesn’t hurt too bad.” JiHo answered coolly, her eyes darted to the mirror in front of her and she noticed Mark walk behind her.

“Mark and I got into a fight yesterday.” Taeyong gasped and Mark snapped his head towards her after hearing his name. “What?” Both men asked shocked at the statement. “Mark hit you?” Taeyong asked once again pointing towards the bruise on JiHo’s face. “What are you talking about?” Mark stuttered over his words and turned his head to take a closer look at the bruise. JiHo didn’t say anything as Taeyong put down the camera on the table in front of them and started scolding the innocent boy.

Both JiHo and the make up artist were laughing and JiHo decided to grab the camera and point it towards both boys. “Oppa. I’m just kidding, leave poor Mark alone.” She explained, trying not to laugh again.

Johnny who had been watching everything happen had joined the group wordlessly. “Lim JiHo! You can’t joke about things like that!” The leader scolded and Mark let out a relieved gasp. “What?” She laughed at his expression. “I know we didn’t get into a fight, but I almost started second guessing myself that I somehow did do that to you.” With a hand on his heart, the panic lingered in his eyes for a few more seconds before it slowly vanished.

“You two are so gullible, oh lord.” JiHo chuckled and Johnny now settled between both boys, patting them both on their shoulders. “Taeyong you should’ve known better. If JiHo did get into a fight with Mark, we all know Mark would be the one to come out that with bruises. Not the other way around.”

She has these boys wrapped around her finger and she knows it!

[NCT 127 Talks "Superhuman", Tour, and KPop]

“What makes NCT 127 different from every other boy band?” Jaehyun’s eyes met JiHo’s, who is sitting on the front row of members next to Jungwoo. They shared a smile as Zach, the host, continues his question.

Johnny translated the question to all the other members and JiHo slowly brought the mic up to her lips. Once Johnny finished translating, the female voice of JiHo resonated through the room. “Well...” She stopped there with a nod and everyone started laughing.

After Taeyong and Johnny finished their answer JiHo grabbed her mic once again. “Just want to clarify, I’m not saying I’m the only reason we’re different, I’m just saying, if you’re calling us a boy band then of course me being a female member would technically already make us different from all other boy bands.” She quickly added.

“How does that feel? Being the only girl in a group of men.” Zach asked and JiHo shrugged. “It doesn’t feel abnormal to me. I think after knowing the guys for such a long time I just like, kind of found my spot with them and it just feels normal.” “I think JiHo sometimes forgets that she a girl...” Johnny added carefully, his voice turning a bit unsure at the end. With the boys laughing in the background JiHo waved a piece sign in front of the camera closest to her and started “acting cool” before talking into the mic with a deeper voice. “I’m part of the boys. Part of the homies. Ya know?”

JiHo sweetie, I know you wanna look cool, but all you’re doing is looking adorable. Please stop I’m gonna have a heart attack

[⚾️시티고 야구부⚾️ EP.1 라커 급습 | NCT 127 Baseball Team]

After Johnny’s joke about copying Mark(’s butt), Taeil spoke up, “Aren’t we missing someone?” “Where’s JiHo?” Yuta spun around once as if he was looking for the absent girl. “Tsk. Again, she’s late-” “Lee Haechan!” A voiced boomed off of frame.

JiHo walked in with a confident stride stopping in the middle of the room and staring straight into the main camera. “Don’t speak about your baseball team leader like that.” She said in a cold tone. “Sunbaenim, where were you?” Johnny asked. Since the age rolls were reversed, JiHo was now the oldest in the group. “I just came back from the gym as the leader of the cheerleading team who just finished practise.” “You’re also their leader?” Doyoung stifled a laugh and JiHo turned to him sending him a glare. He put up his hands in a defensive pose and took a step back after which JiHo turned back to the camera.

“Why? Don’t you believe me?” “I don’t know JiHo. It’s just that-” Mark stopped talking before being able to finish his sentence as the girl kicked up her left leg. She caught her foot with her left hand and pulled her leg up until it was next to her face, extended into a heel stretch. Her right hand was also in the air, showing of how great her balance and flexibility is. She kept the pose for a few seconds before bringing her foot back down to the ground. “Wow!” The boys gasped in surprised.

JiHo isn’t trying to be flexible, flexible is trying to be JiHo

She eyed Mark who quickly acknowledged the fact that she fit as the role of the cheerleading team. “Don’t underestimate me Markie.” The teasing tone along with the nickname sent a shiver down the boy’s spine, the other boys either oohing or being slightly scared themselves.

Why is Mark always the victim of JiHo’s teasing?? I can’t with them

[‘To You’ #3]

The whole ‘To You’ series was really sweet and emotional. So this isn’t as funny as the previous clips, but I felt like this still fits the theme so well. I also think that not that many fans have seen this before, so after this clip you should watch all 3 videos <3

PS. this isn’t the full clip but here are some of my favourite parts of Taeil’s message to JiHo

“It must have been hard right? Your position in the group is very special and it must come with a lot of pressure.” Taeil’s eyes fell into his lap, a sad smile on his lips. “But you always try to hide your hardships from the group.”

I believe what he means with ‘position’ is being the maknae of the group as well as being the only girl

“I wished that you could come to us more and open up about those things, because I know that everyone (in the group) would drop everything they were doing in a heartbeat to hear you out.” He took a deep breath before continuing.

“Haechan is the mood maker in the sense that he likes joking around and being loud, but you also are a mood maker. Just in your own unique way. You’re such a good listener and observer so you notice things other people might not. You approach members silently or make small gestures, which mean a lot, to cheer someone up. But you can also be funny and loud. I appreciate both of those sides of you.”

I’m not crying, you are ::>_<::

It was silent for a little as Taeil seemed deep in thought. “I know you don’t like to be treated in a more special way than the other members, and the older members really try not to show it. But in our minds... and in our hearts, you do have a special place. I know you are a strong person and can protect yourself just as well, if not better, than the other members, but I can’t help but want to protect you.”

“Whatever anyone says, those people who aren’t our fans or don’t understand us, I hope you don’t take their painful words to heart. Because you are just as fit to be in NCT as any of the other members.”

I’m so happy to see how much NCT cares for JiHo, not that I ever doubted that they didn’t, but seeing this was so heart-warming and JiHo’s reaction was so sweet as well as her message to Taeyong (but you have to go watch the original video for that ;-) )

[[Un Cut] Take #4 I ‘NCT - RESONANCE Pt. 1’ The Future ver. Jacket Behind the Scene]

The camera focused on JiHo who was currently doing her individual shots. She was wearing a beige oversized long sleeve that showed of her collarbones but covered up most of the rest of her body.

JiHo squatted down and tilted her head to the side to show of her jawline. The staff were complimenting her as the shoot went on.

A particular switch in poses had elicited a surprising response from one of the female staff members. “Wow~ Has she always been this pretty?” She said in awe, which caused everyone to start laughing and agreeing.

After JiHo’s shoot it was Ten and Kun’s turn. During Ten’s individual interview he brought up the event that happened before his shoot started. “I heard that the staff was surprised by JiHo’s visuals.” He chuckled. “My baby is very pretty everyone. Don’t forget that or you’ll be surprised and fall in love with her like the staff member did.”

I don’t know if I’m freaking out more because Ten just called JiHo his baby or because she called her very pretty so casually? Also thanks for the warning Ten, but I’m already madly in love with JiHo so... a bit too late for that.

[Idol Crushes? | HDIGH Ep. #xx Highlight]

“Weren’t you promoting (’Revolution’) recently?” Jae (Day6) asked AleXa who was sat next to him. She hummed. “Actually it was around the same time that NCT was promoting their music.” “Oh did you talk to them?” AleXa shook her head whilst laughing but then stopped suddenly as if she remembered something.

“She wasn’t promoting with them at the time, but I saw JiHo sunbaenim backstage.” This comment perked up Jae’s interest as he sat up in his chair. “Did you introduce yourself?” “Yeah she actually noticed me first and came to say hi.”

Diane, who was the person behind the camera gasped loudly. “Why haven’t you told us about this?! She knows you?” The small girl nodded embarrassed and then explained what happened on that day.

“She’s super nice and complimented my music and dancing. I didn’t think I’d ever been at such a loss for words as back then. I got so nervous because even though she’s really nice, she has such a strong presence? If you know what I mean?” Jae and Diane hum in understanding. “Just seeing her up close like that was so intimidating. Like she told me she was there to support her members so she didn’t have any makeup on, but she was still insanely beautiful.” Jae laughed at the girl’s dramatic explanation. “You sound like you have a crush on her.” AleXa stuttered for a second before replying. “I think I might!” They all laughed.

“Did you exchange phone numbers?” Diane asked and AleXa nodded excitedly. “We did! We don’t text each other often, but every once in a while she reaches out after a new podcast episode comes out to tell me about the parts she liked.” “Oh so she watches this?” Jae’s eyes widened. “Yeah.”

AleXa turned to the camera and waved. “JiHo sunbaenim, if you are watching this, thank you so much! I hope we can get closer someday.”

I don’t know AleXa that well, but I think a collab between her and JiHo would be so powerful!

Thanks for watching this video guys! And leave a comment on what kind of content you want to see next, byeeee o/

[canary3d-obsessed]

Restless Rewatch: The Untamed Episode 03

(Masterpost)(Previous Episode) 

Warning: Spoilers for all 50 episodes!

 Wei Wuxian demonstrates the purple nurple technique of the Jiang Clan

Should’ve Used Trivago

The Jiang Clan’s reservation got cancelled while they were on the road, so they are going to wander around this small inn for hours being fussed about it, rather than trying another inn. Yes they say the other inns are all full but…so is this one, now. 

The Jin Clan sends an advance party to fancy up the inn for them.

Fuckboi Wei Wuxian

Wei Wuxian decides to use his considerable powers of prettiness to get them a room.  He drops some poetry on Mianmian and brazenly flirts with her before shifting to properly introducing himself and asking for a room. 

This actually works.

...until her boss shows up.

(Much much more after the cut!)

Worst Person // Best Jin

Jin ZIxuan is an ass and a snob. 

I guess we have to give him credit for having a beautiful sidekick and never hitting on her, given that his dad is a rapist and one of his half-brothers is (reputedly) a sex pest and the other half brother is (definitely) an incest perp. But I feel like it doesn’t take much to be the best Jin of his or his father’s generation.

The Jin folks are snobs and talk about how great their fancy and expensive stuff is. It’s an interesting contrast with true connoisseur Nie Huaisang, who loves everything that is fine and beautiful and can quote stacks of poetry off the top of his head, but is not even a little bit of a snob. 

This Tea Smells Like Farts

Ok, let’s talk about generation names in the Jin clan. Ru is the name for Jin Ling’s generation, hence his courtesy name Rulan. The name for the current generation is apparently Zi (子), because both Zixuan and his jerk cousin Zixun have that as their name.  Sect Leader Jin Guangshan would seem to be using the generation name Guang, but then names his son Jin Guangyao so…the whole system breaks down. 

Anyway, my point here is that even considering generation names, if I had a baby and named it Zixuan, and my sister-in-law promptly had a baby and named it Zixun, I would slap her. 

Find you a lover who does not make you feel like this 

Jin Zixuan is mildly intrigued by his betrothed, and expresses it by being rude to her in front of Wei Wuxian, starting a chain of events that will culminate with Wen Ning’s fist going all the way through Jin Zixuan’s chest.

Side Note: Look at these young Jiang Brothers and their casual shoulder hugs. Sigh.

Wei Wuxian’s Combat PlayBook

When Wei Wuxian wants to throw down, he starts with smack talk, moves along to boundary crossing, then to direct threats, and then brings out a weapon if he hasn’t won already. 

Here he starts shit with Jin Zixuan by complaining at him for taking up too much space and having too many sycophants.  Then he goes for the unwelcome shoulder touch. 

Having been sufficiently provocative to get someone to draw a sword and threaten him with physical violence, he shifts to formal verbal sparring. 

This gets the other guy to back down, because even at this age no-one actually wants to tangle with Wei Wuxian, and Wei Wuxian gets to claim the moral advantage, although he still doesn’t get to keep his hotel room. 

Actually Not A Fan of My Sister’s Betrothal

Jin Zixuan and Jiang Yanli have the first of many, many moments of heterosexual ineptitude together. Wei Wuxian quickly rescues them.

Hi, I’m Young Master Cockblock.

Neither of the boys understands what Yanli sees in Zixuan and neither do I, at this juncture. He does improve later after multiple beatings from Wei Wuxian.

This Is The Day Your Life Will Surely Change

Yanli’s encounter in the Inn is the first step toward the inexorable end of the three of them as a unit, although it’s still a long ways off. They are all growing up and she and Wei Wuxian are both going to fall in love at summer camp, like in a 1980s teen movie but without the virginity betting (presumably). 

Meanwhile poor Jiang Cheng is going to be swept along just trying to keep up with events, which becomes the story of his life for the next two decades.

Welcome to Transylvania

We meet Wen Ruohan. He is boring and he sucks. Also I’m summarizing the Transylvania parts out of order because they break up the rhythm of the story. And are boring and suck.

We meet Xue Yang. He seems nice.

Wen Ruohan’s living room is like a shitty nightclub where everyone is too drunk to dance except Xue Yang.

Dee Jay: Undead undead undead, Bela Lugosi’s dead

[OP can’t get a video to embed in this post with looping enabled, so the alternate version of this joke has its own post right here. That will teach OP to get fancy.]

Anyhoo

We meet Wen Qing. She is the bestest most wonderful girl in the world but this isn’t actually when we find that out. 

Right now we just find out that she is absurdly pretty, that she loves her brother deeply, and that she is helping Wen Ruohan with his “take over the world by murdering cultivators” project. OKAY, PROBLEMATIC, BUT SHE IS THE BESTEST GIRL OKAY? 

Gatekeeping

The Jiang Clan don’t get another inn but they do manage to change into immaculate white robes while they’re out on the street, so - nice work, Jiang Clan. Be free!

They get stuck outside the gate because they don’t know that the secret to getting into Cloud Recesses is to set the gate guard on fire. 

Walking Thirst Trap Hanguang-Jun

Lan Wangji shows up and everyone except Yanli, who is already in love with Sir Golden Pants, makes thirst faces at him. Including Jiang Cheng tho he will never admit it. One girl in the background is actually biting her knuckle. 

Note: Lan Wangji knows exactly how fine he is. Look at his fucking hairstyle. 

He is sixteen years old. The only person in the entire cultivation world with fancier hair is Nie Mingjue, and that’s because he indulges his dìdi’s braiding hobby. 

Wei Wuxian loudly stage whispers that LWJ is their key to getting in and LWJ is is like, not fucking likely, person I didn’t glance at yet. 

But then Wei Wuxian says a smart cultivator thing about the puppet dude, and Lan Wangji turns around and has the first of many long mutual staring sessions with this boy he totally isn’t going to like at all.

Jiang Cheng has a bad feeling about the future: a 2-frame gif

Unrelated gardening note: the red-crack puppet is more commonly grown in Gusu and Dafan, while the black-line puppet is native to Yiling

I Must Arrange a Date with this Uninteresting Boy

The rest of the evening is a series of tests that Lan Wangji puts Wei Wuxian through. Wei Wuxian doesn’t know this and Lan Wangji probably doesn’t exactly know it either. 

First he sends WWX back to town to get the invitation. Yes, go get it. Not your entourage; YOU, talky person who thinks he can manipulate me and is smart and looks...intriguing. Go find it and come back. 

When Wei Wuxian complains, Lan Wangji silences him, which is literally the most boss move he could have used on smooth talking Wei Wuxian. 

You tried, Fuckboi.

Would you like to try some more because I think I would like you to try some more

Jiang Cheng is the Better Baby Brother

Sorry, he just is. Wei Wuxian is all about being taken care of and adoring Yanli without actually doing much for her. Jiang Cheng is the one who thinks about her feelings and giving her what she needs, even to the point of arranging that wedding rehearsal dinner so she can be with her favorite brother again -- the favorite who isn’t him, much as she also loves him. 

Date Test 1: Can You Get In.

Once Wei Wuxian is definitely gone, Lan Wangji shows up again and collects the entire retinue, guaranteeing that Wei Wuxian will be stranded outside the gate when he gets back.  LWJ doesn’t wait by the gate; he goes and waits up on the roof instead of going to bed or whatever else he’s supposed to be doing. Because he already knows the route Wei Wuxian will be taking. 

Wei Wuxian passes the “get in through the wards” test with no problem besides a minor headache and bent fingers. 

Is that Xiao Zhan’s hand or did they use a double-jointed hand model?

Date Test 2: Fight Me (Lan Wangji’s Combat Playbook)

As soon as Wei Wuxian shows up on the roof, Lan Wangji picks a fight with him. 

LWJ fights all the time; he’s perfectly comfortable when he’s fighting and it’s a good venue for him to express himself. His style is graceful and aggressive. 

Attack attack attack strike a pose, vogue, you know it.  

He starts by going all in on swordplay, but that doesn’t gain him the advantage; Wei Wuxian fends him off without ever drawing his sword. Which is probably the hottest thing that has ever happened to Lan Wangji in his young life.

Do you like me better when I’m horizontal? 

Next Lan Wangji deploys the pettiness by breaking WWX’s wine. Then when Wei Wuxian starts insulting him he upgrades to next level pettiness by dropping another silence spell, this time with the added bonus of preventing WWX from drinking. 

Wei Wuxian’s Combat Playbook, Redux

Meanwhile Wei Wuxian is running his own fight routine, starting with a charm attack, which doesn’t work at all. 

Are you admiring the moon? 

He keeps trying to de-escalate for the first phase of their fight, until they reach a pause and he reflects that Lan Wangji has real skills. As soon as he makes that determination he goes on the offensive - with words. 

He very formally says he’s too busy to continue fighting, and turns away, which is a pretty solid roast when you say it to someone who’s been trying really hard to kick your ass. Then he continues defending easily until Lan Wangji uses the wine against him. 

At this point the gloves come off, with Lan Wangji lecturing Wei Wuxian, Wei Wuxian making ad hominem attacks, Lan Wangji forcibly shutting him up... 

...and then throwing him on the floor in front of Lan Qiren and Lan Xichen. 

Sincere Grief for the Death of our Colleague

Lan Qiren and Lan Xichen feel really bad for their disciple who has been horribly turned into an undead creature. Ha ha j/k

Date Test 3: Face the Authorities

Lan Wangji gets to pick Wei Wuxian’s punishment.  This probably won’t awaken anything in him. 

Surprise surprise, Wei Wuxian actually passes the Authority test with flying colors. Lan Qiren doesn’t like him, but listens respectfully to his thoughts about the undead cultivator. And Lan Xichen clearly does like him.

When Wei Wuxian learns that Lan Wangji was nice to his sister, his entire demeanor changes, to such an enormous degree that Lan Wangji starts to run away.

He’s not going to let this boy (who has passed all the tests oh no he passed all the tests) make out with him in front of his family like he is obviously planning. 

But once again, Wei Wuxian’s cultivation knowledge captures Lan Wangji’s attention and breaks through his reserve. 

This Hardy Boys moment is the beginning of their cultivation partnership.

Lan Wangji is brave but is extremely constrained: by the authorities in his life and by his own rigid reserve. Wei Wuxian is brave and is also free. His companionship gives Lan Wangji an opportunity to engage with a much broader range of the things that interest him than he’s ever had before. 

After Wei Wuxian has been sent to bed, Lan Wangji stands outside and -- just as WWX had suggested at the beginning of their date/fight -- admires the moon, with an expression that’s anything but upset. 

Sure, sex is cool (probably), but have you ever analyzed a walking corpse with a beautiful boy in the moonlight?

If you’ve got your true honey Life can be pretty funny If you've got money, money to burn Rooty toot toot for the moon It's the biggest star I've ever seen

The Fine-as-Hell Brothers

Alone together, Lans Xichen and Wangji talk over the various things on their minds. 

Xichen: What the fuck is up with you? ...Rooftop fights and dropping spells on boys?

Wangji: You and uncle were ignoring me so I was making my own fun

Xichen: Yeah, we are dealing with this zombie situation; shit’s going to hit the fan

Wangji: what are you going to do about it?

Xichen: fuck-all

Wangji: Well, you can rely on me

Xichen: I totally do. So how about you get to know this Wei kid, he seems like a fun ride.

Wangji: *death glare*

Xichen: You know, since Dad died you’ve become even more uptight. I wonder if I’ve been too strict with you?

Wangji: Um, you think? 3000 fucking rules, dude. Fortunately I’m not going to go off the rails and fall in love with my polar opposite and cause havoc in the cultivation world or anything like that.

Xichen: good, me neither

Outtro

Writing prompt: Lan Xichen’s secret nightly letter to his Mom’s memory or spirit (your choice), in which he confides in her about his day. May be written in flute solo form. 

(As always if you use this prompt feel free to post a link to your fic in comments!)

Soundtrack: 1. This Is The Day by The The  2.  Bela Lugosi’s Dead by Bauhaus 3. Rooty Toot Toot for the Moon, Greg Brown version 4. Madonna, Vogue

Bonus: FineAsHell-Jun

Episode 04 Restless Rewatch coming soon!

[watchingspnagain]

Rewatching No Exit

Welcome to “He’s Just Not That into You, Jo: A Supernatural Rewatch Blog” with Lor and Mace!

 Up today, s2,e6: No Exit

  Sam and Dean discover that Jo wants to hunt but Ellen is vehemently against it. They try to stay out of it, but when Jo gives them a case file on a building in Philly where young blond women keep disappearing in impossible ways, they take the case. When they get there, they find Jo already there, working the case herself. The three team up (against Dean’s better judgement), and while Jo makes a bit of a mess of it at first, she does successfully act as bait for the ghost of H.H. Holmes, American’s first serial killer and the monster of the episode. So it’s not a complete disaster, and when Ellen shows up spitting nails, Dean tries to defend Jo. But it turns out John was along on the hunt that got Ellen’s husband and Jo’s father killed. The episode ends with the Winchesters on the outs with the Harvelles—at least for the moment.

 Below is a log of our real-time reactions as we watched. Remember that there may be spoilers for any part of SPN’s 15-season run here. Note also that the nature of our conversation is adult and thus it may contain adult language and themes.

 [and we begin:]

  Mace:

 oh goodie. the one where Jo tried to be a big girl hunter

  Lor:

 yeeeeah

Mace:

 would Dean be afraid of your mother?

  Lor:

 yeah

it would take a little bit to realize it, but yeah

  Mace:

 he wouldn't be afraid of mine - he'd LOVE her. she makes THE BEST pies

  Lor:

 aw THAT IS THE BEST

I think he'd like my mom, too. just, you know. also afraid

  Mace:

 Ha! My mom can make people cry, too, but she'd love Dean so there's be no reason for him to feel her wrath

  Lor:

 thanks, Dean, I thought it was the other Los Angeles

  Mace:

 "and for you so bitchy" HAHAHA

  Lor:

 LOLOL

  OMG this family

  Mace:

 WHY would you think this pithole is a place to take your toddlers?!

  Lor:

 RIGHT?

 the look on Dean's face

 they probably have some dumb idea about seeing the local shit

  Mace:

 snork

 spoiler yes, yes she will lose her

  Lor:

 HA

well, not really. cause she dies at the same time =p

  Mace:

 yeah

  Lor:

 hand freeeeeckles

  Mace:

 YES

 HAHAHA Ghostbusters reference

 Lor:

 YES

  Mace:

 dream on, Jo, he'll never be your boyfriend

  Lor:

 RIGHT?

  Mace:

 Dean-o? REALLY?!

  Lor:

 RIGHT?

 did she FLY?

to get there before them?

  "untwist your boxers" hahahahaha

  Mace:

 Dean only seems like the kind to speed - he'd never put Baby in danger so he generally drives the speed limit

so she beat them here easy

  Lor:

 hahahaha I love it

 THIS 100% sibling behavior Jo and Dean are doing

  Mace:

 YES, on his part

she's got the whole puppy love thing going

  Lor:

 Dean drives EXACTLY one mile under the speed limit

 yeah

  Mace:

 YES

 she's trying to act like a badass and Dean's having none of it

  Lor:

 yep

  Mace:

 DEAN ISN'T CHAUVINIST

 fuck off, Jo

  Lor:

 "women can do the job fine. amateurs can't"

I LOVE HIM

  Mace:

 YAAAASSS

  Lor:

 no, Jo, you are not twisted AT ALL

  Mace:

 yeah

he's not interested in you and your tough girl act will not entice him GO HOME

  Lor:

 yeah

  Mace:

 there was no garbage bag in that can

WHO DOES THAT?

  Lor:

 LOLOL

  Lor:

 kick it! kick it's fingers!

  Mace:

 snork!

  Lor:

 OMG DEAN

he is gonna need a massage

I VOLUNTEER

  Mace:

 isn't that the exact sleeping pose of Marty McFly?

  HAHAHA

  Lor:

 if not it is VERY CLOSE

 FUCK YOU JO if you weren't gonna sleep, let the poor guy have the bed

  Mace:

 HE TOLD YOU TO PUT THE DAMN KNIFE DOWN

  YES

  Lor:

 "sorry. my mistake"

I love him

he knows when not to be that way

  Mace:

 yeah

  Lor:

 (she still needs a better knife though)

  Mace:

 but she was flashing that knife around just waiting for him to say something so she could play the I-lost-my-daddy card

  Lor:

 is he talking? i can't hear him over the freckles

  Mace:

 can you tell that she annoys the piss out of me?

  Lor:

 lolololol

  Mace:

 HA

  Lor:

 how do you feel about Jo, Mace?

  Mace:

 we hates her, precious

 oh, I'll tell you what's wrong with that: it's selfish as hell

GROW UP AND GO HOME

  Lor:

 John used to pick Dean up like too, but he stopped bc he got awful

 YEP

  Mace:

 don't threaten Ash, lady

  Lor:

 right?

Ash is absolutely more afraid of Ellen than he is of Jo

  Mace:

 RIGHT?!

  aw Sammy's freakish love of serial killers for the win

  Lor:

 aw, Sammy knowing the serial killer stuff

 LOL

  Mace:

 HAHAHA

  Lor:

 omg Sammy, a little less joy over the facts of the dude's serial killing

  Mace:

 SNORK!

  Lor:

 starting to freak out a little, JO?

  Mace:

 yeah, GO HOME, child

  Lor:

 she could have been SO COOL. it annoys me

  Mace:

 RIGHT?!?!

  Mace:

 same with Ellen

  Lor:

 yep

  Mace:

 and Mary

  Lor:

 also, is Jo significantly narrower than Dean?

in that direction?

  Mace:

 HA

  Lor:

 i think turned sideways they are equally tiny

  Mace:

 yeah

  Mace:

 congrats Jo, you just made more work for the boys

  Lor:

 yyyyep

 like, imagine if Ellen and Jo were as good at hunting as SnD

like if they KNEW things

  Mace:

 RIGHT?!

  Lor:

 "feminine business" and the way he knows that's not gonna work before he's even done saying it

  Mace:

 SNORK!

  Lor:

 "this building doesn't have a basement" I love that he just knows. he doesn't have to check. pets his competent little head

  Mace:

 snork! well, they have been looking at the floor plans lately

but yes, yes, your Dean is a smarty

  Lor:

 yes, yes he is

  Mace:

 thanks for mentioning that Sammy figured out the sewer system thing, btw

you're not biased at all...

  Lor:

 I mean, i have to concentrate on something other than how annoyed I am that Jo could have been awesome and isn't'

 Sammy is also so very, very smart

  Mace:

 TOO LITTLE TOO LATE, LOR

  Lor:

 isn't she a little sort for a stormtrooper

 pouts

  Mace:

 "just be quiet" oh don't act like you didn't scream like a putz when he caught you, Jo

  Lor:

 LOL

  Mace:

 HOW do you look that hot carrying a shovel?

  Lor:

 "don't mind us, we're just using a metal detector and carrying a shovel. not up to anything at all. look, we're cute"

  Lor:

 LOLOLOLOL

  Mace:

 OMG

HAHAHA

  Lor:

 gah creeepy

gives me the shivers

  Mace:

 yeah

  Lor:

 grrr she didn't want to finish the job

  Mace:

 yup, amateur, just like Dean said

  Lor:

 YEP

  Lor:

hehehehe traps

  Mace:

 Ha! yep

  not because of you, Jo, don't take any credit here, honey

  Lor:

 right?

  Lor:

 I'm gonna need the story of how Dean got a cement mixer

  Mace:

 um, he just told you

  Lor:

 shrug I'll give it back

  Mace:

 he borrowed it

  Lor:

 I LOVE HIM

  Mace:

 SHOCKED

I AM SHOCKED

  Lor:

 look. I don't think the mockery is called for. I'm just little

  Mace:

 snork!

  Lor:

 Oh, Dean

  Mace:

 Dean, bud. Read the car

  Lor:

 YEP

  Mace:

 ELLEN DO NOT TOUCH THE RADIO

  Lor:

 I guess shotgun doesn't shut her cakehole when it's Ellen?

 RIGHT?

NOT YOUR CAR ELLEN

  Mace:

 EXACTLY

 JO DID NOT DO GOOD, DEAN, DON'T LIE

  Lor:

 ooooof, Ellen, Dean did not deserve that

it is not HIS fault John was awful

  Mace:

 yeah

  Lor:

 no their other father, Jo

  Mace:

 snork

  "not right now" YOU JUST SIGNALED YOU WANTED HIM TO FOLLOW YOU, IDIOT

  Lor:

 yeeeah

  Mace:

 JO. You ASS. He just saved your life. You owe him much more than your bitchiness

  Lor:

 yep

  Mace:

 such poor writing here

  Lor:

 yeeeeah

  Mace:

 female characters are so poorly written on this show

(well, at least at first)

  [after the episode ended]

 Lor:

 it's like they're trying to force something bt Jo and Dean that's not working and then trying to complicate it with something that doesn't feel authentic

   Lor:

(yep. the back half is full of female characters I LOVE)

  Mace:

 (YES)

  Lor:

 (I think part of the mistake early is making them all narratively tied to Sam and Dean. they are there to push the boys' story and... that's it. so if the actors don't have chemistry, it dies. the later female characters are all massively weaved into SnD's story (obviously, that's the show), but they are their own thing too/first)

  Mace:

 yeah

also, I think they just get better at writing believable strong female characters. they learn somewhere along the way that a strong woman doesn't need to be a scary mother hen

or a size 2 girl trying to wear big boy hunter pants and failing

 Lor:

yep

[ficforce]

Circles and Crosses and Heroes

Shinmon Benimaru x Reader OC Child SFW No set timeline as an OC AU Benimaru’s Daughter wants to get married

“Unca Konro!”

Konro bent down and picked up the toddler with a smile, she settled against his side and was content to be quiet whilst he finished his conversation with another man. Once he was done, Konro turned to look at her, “Do you even know where your mouth is?” The man pulled out a handkerchief from his belt, he usually kept it on him when he was babysitting, and wiped her face of the rice bits, “What’s up?”

She made a grab for the piece of cloth but missed as he pulled it away, “Can’t find Papa.”

“Papa is training with Arthur and Shinra,” Konro walked toward the back of the guardhouse with the tiny girl and slid open the shoji door. Arthur was lying face down in the dirt whilst Shinra and Benimaru went at it, Benimaru wasn’t fighting particularly hard but he was giving the kid a workout, “See.”

“Papa!”

Shinra let out a sharp yelp as the Captain caught his ankle and launched him across the yard into a wall, he hadn’t seemed to have made any effort to do so and that ticked Shinra off. The teen jumped up and fired up his feet to attack again - stopping as he realised that Benimaru was already by Konro and taking his daughter from the man. It melted his heart to see the little girl snuggle into the most dangerous man in Asakusa, she was a really cute kid and it was obvious she had Benimaru wrapped around her little finger. “What?” He demanded from his child, tipping his head back as she reached for his hair, “You never do this to Konro, he’s got more to pull on, brat.”

“Because she respects her Uncle, I need to get the reports from across town, Waka. Y/N’s not back yet.” Konro loved looking after her but he still had duties and he wasn’t going to leave a two and a half-year-old alone, “I’ll leave her to you - try not to teach her anymore swear words.”

“It’s not my fault she’s got big ears,” they were never going to forgive him for that. Benimaru kicked Arthur to wake him up and then held her out to Shinra, “I got a few errands to run too, take care of her. If her eyes turn into crosses then be ready to put out some fires…” He ruffled her hair and headed off, “Be good!”

Shinra looked at the toddler with a nervous smile, he loved kids, he loved playing with them and generally being around them but this was Shinmon Benimaru’s daughter. If even a single hair on her head were damaged - He’d be dead. He didn’t usually spend much time with her, mostly in Asakusa for training and when he did see her she was usually with her mother and not interested in anyone else. She was a cute kid, all of her father’s colouring but looking more like her mother, “You hungry?”

“Nope.”

“Sleepy?”

“Nu-uh.” she smacked her hand onto his cheek and pulled a little, “You gots shark teefs.”

Arthur sprung up and held his arms out for her, “He’s a devil! I’ll protect you, Princess!”

The toddler blinked at him and puffed out her cheeks, her eyes narrowing as her iris’ morphed into crosses and Arthur’s right sleeve caught fire, “Papa protek me…” They returned to circles and she wriggled around until Shinra put her down, “Wanna Daifuku.”

“But you said you ate already,” Shinra crouched down to her level, ignoring as Arthur waved his arm around and blew on the flames, they weren’t particularly hot but Shinra figured it would be dangerous if she burned something and it got out of control. “I guess that little old lady would be happy to see you though… Want me to fly you there?”

Benimaru’s daughter looked excited all of a sudden and bounced in place, “Like Papa does?! Like a witch!”

The teen snorted into his hand, he could see how the matoi might look like a fiery broom and give that kind of imagery, “Nah, Like a hero!”

“Hero?” She couldn’t quite imagine it but didn’t object when Shinra picked her up and kicked dust and fire up into Arthur’s face before rocketing up into the sky. The little girl squealed in delight and giggled as he did a loop just to show off a little.

He had them to the old woman’s stall in no time flat and landed in a pose. “That’s how a hero lands!”

“So dumb!” She didn’t care about his crestfallen expression and ran toward the old woman, grabbing her sleeve with big eyes, “Biddy!”

“O-oi… that’s kinda rude…” Shinra watched as the woman stroked the girl’s hair and made it a little neater, already fussing about how cute she looked and how big she was getting. Within moments the toddler was munching on fresh sweets and the old woman was shovelling more into a bag for her to take home to her family. “Don’t forget to thank the lady.”

“Thanks, Biddy!” She made a run between Shinra’s legs to the stall across from the Daifuku and began chatting with the vendor, watching as he threw some ingredients into a boiling pot of oil.

The teen figured that everyone likely knew who she was and he relaxed a little, Benimaru was loved by the people of Asakusa and he had no doubt that love was extended to his daughter. He half kept an eye on her as he chatted to the old woman, catching up on the latest news and then he felt that odd sensation he got when something was about to happen. Was it an infernal, red eyes zeroed in on the toddler, he would make sure she was safe first but then he gasped as he saw her stumble, her tiny little hands grabbed the pole holding up the hot oil and the boiling liquid began to spill toward her.

Shinra had never been so grateful for his speed as he had been then, the training he had received from Benimaru and all the practice he put into his Rapid attack were all worth it. He underestimated his stopping point and he ended up rolling a few feet across the street, the little girl bundled to his chest as he used his legs and arms to keep her from getting hurt. He glanced at the spot where she had fallen and swallowed thickly as he saw the spot now covered in oil, scorching the ground - he didn’t know how fireproof she was but the toddler would have been badly hurt. Sitting up he checked her over for any scrapes, “You okay?” Her crimson eyes began to fill with tears and she let out a loud wail as she began to cry, Shinra sighed in relief as he found no harm had come to her, she was just freaked out from the accident, “It’s okay, Save-the-girl-and-be-a-hero-man is here.” He hugged her close and picked her up, figuring he should at least carry her home.

— -

She stuck to his side from then, following him around the guardhouse, holding onto his pant leg and insisting he carry her for the rest of the day. When her mother arrived home first she ran to Y/N and the woman pressed a kiss to her head, “Thanks for helping out, Shinra.”

After that people began to return to the guardhouse for dinner or to get changed and go home, some of them had plans already but the whole place became more lively, Hinata and Hikage cheered as they saw him. The news of what Shinra had done to save Benimaru’s daughter had spread throughout the town… So it was really no surprise when the teen found himself pinned to the wall by his throat. Benimaru’s eyes were glowing bright and he looked about ready to incinerate the other there and then, “You made her cry.”

‘You made her cry,’ not, ‘You nearly let my child get horribly injured,’.

He couldn’t reply even if he wanted to, he grabbed Benimaru’s wrist and tried to loosen his grip a little so that he could breathe. He was about to kick at the Captain when the pitter-patter of little bare feet rushed toward them and the toddler pulled on Benimaru’s leg, “Nooo! Papa! No!” She tugged on him harder and a spike of heat travelled up the man’s leg as the clothing began to burn. Benimaru looked down at her as he extinguished the small flames, her eyes were beginning to water, the crimson orbs glowing as brightly as his and her body heat raised enough to dry out her damp hair from her bath. Letting Shinra go he scooped her up and carried her over to sit by the table, placing her on his lap and getting her to calm down before she had a burnout. “No hurt Shinra! You can’t!”

“Why not.”

“Gonna marry Shinra!” She yanked on her father’s clothing and pulled his sleeve down his arm. It was then that Y/N came in and took her from Benimaru, snuggling the toddler until her small tantrum calmed enough that she wasn’t a walking fire hazard. “Like Shinra!”

“Papa isn’t going to do anything to Shinra,” Y/N turned to half glare at the man, “Right, Beni?”

Benimaru shrugged and glared at the teen, he had other ways of showing his displeasure and if Shinra wasn’t dead after training the next day then he would just have to try harder. Of course, he was grateful that his daughter hadn’t been hurt and that the other had protected her but Shinra had let her get that close to danger in the first place. He had calmed down by the time dinner was ready and he looked around for his little girl, usually she sat on his lap during dinner, he froze when he saw her climbing onto Shinra’s lap. He glared across the table and his chopsticks snapped in his grip - that was his baby…

“Beni,” Y/N placed her hand on his thigh, “You’re the only man she really loves.” She could tell when he was jealous, he always pouted and his body temperature would rise, he had been known to get jealous even when Konro got all of their daughter’s attention. “She’ll forget all about him when he goes back to the 8th.” The toddler spent the evening glued to Shinra’s side, the boy blushing as she told him that he was her husband now and had to listen to her. Benimaru sulked the entire time and continued to do so even as he laid down to sleep.

Benimaru was used to being the hero for her, he didn’t like sharing her at all…

“Papa…” The door slid open a little and the toddler wriggled through the gap then ran over to him as he sat up, “Papa.”

“You should be in bed, what’s wrong, bad dream?” He let her climb onto his lap and pat his cheeks, grabbing his hair and making him bring his head down so she could press a wet kiss to his nose.

“Love Papa the most.”

[pallasperilous]

Funny Bone

The other day Supernatural9917 threw out this meme as a cracky Halloween Dean/Cas prompt and I was SO MAD, because I then had to write it:

And so here it is. Goddammit.

Funny Bone

https://archiveofourown.org/works/26761150 Words: 4930 Castiel/Dean Winchester Fluff and Crack, Crack Treated Seriously, Skeletons, Bad Pick-Up Lines, No Angels AU, Men of Letters Bunker, Mild Gore Mature (mentions of lewd acts, canon-typical violence, and some truly horrible pickup lines)

It wasn’t even a particularly creepy skeleton; it was in kind of a “just chillin’” pose on the floor. One ankle was still locked up in a heavy iron cuff, at the end of a short chain leading back to the wall. Snoresville, as dead stuff goes; Dean’s seen worse at Disneyland. It was the skeleton’s comment about Dean’s ass that really livened things up.

Discovering the bunker in the first place was a helluva surprise. The whole facility is legitimately batshit; Dead Guys of Letters knew how to live (and, apparently, die. All at once.).

But after plowing through a dozen rooms worth of priceless treasures and crusty boobytraps, even Sam was looking kinda full up on shock and awe.

“We can hit the basement tomorrow,” he said. There was a big smudge of dust across his nose and some cobwebs in his hair.

“Nuh uh,” Dean answered, kicking the door shut with the toe of his boot. “If there’s shit still kicking down there, we gotta clean it out before it cleans us out. It’s that or we’re sleepin’ in the car.”

“Ugh,” Sam said, as if twenty minutes ago he hadn’t been losing his mind over a rare book about werewolf hemorrhoids.

So discovering that the basement included a no-shit actual dungeon felt more like an unanticipated bonus, and stumbling across a skeleton while exploring it barely even registered. Skeletons and dungeons! They go together like rama lama lama ka dinga da dinga dong.

It wasn’t even a particularly creepy skeleton; it was in kind of a “just chillin’” pose on the floor, inside a big circle of greasy black ash.  It looked a little mildewy in in places. One ankle was still locked up in a heavy iron cuff, at the end of a short chain leading back to the wall. Snoresville, as dead stuff goes; Dean’s seen worse at Disneyland.

It was the skeleton’s comment about Dean’s ass that really livened things up.

“Welp,” Dean had said, holstering his gun and wiping his hands on his jeans. “We’re all clear. Let’s head back upstairs, salt the shit out of everything, and then we can pick up some groceries.”

“Do I get to buy a vegetable that doesn’t fit in a bun, or are we still in the refractory period?” Sam snarked from the corridor.

“I don’t see you cookin’, “ Dean started, shuffling back towards the hall, and that’s when the skeleton butted in.

“Are those astronaut pants?” it asked. “Because your ass is outta this world!”

Dean absolutely did not scream, but it’s possible there was a yelp. 

He almost unloaded a clip into it – unclear what that would’ve possibly done, but it’s good to start with the simple, available solutions. Next he nabbed the lighter fluid off of Sam and dumped out half a pound of kosher salt as a chaser and set the fucker alight.

This does not have the intended effect.

“Baby, I’d like to put my meat on your grill,” the skeleton says, greenish flames dancing between its ribs, “because you’re hot, and I’m smokin’.” Then it sits up a little, just enough to shoot Dean some finger guns.

“What the fuck,” Dean says.

Sam makes a little evaluatory noise. “Sexually harassed by a skeleton,” he chuckles. “I think that’s a new one. Even for you. Is that a new one? I know a lot of strange shit went down in Purgatory.”

The skeleton perks up even more at that, grungy eye sockets sweeping up and down Dean’s body. “Are you a time traveler?” it asks. (Maybe he asks, because the voice is pretty deep and dude-ish, although possibly just on account of its vocal cords being leather shoelaces.)

“Wh…no, I’m not a time traveler,” Dean fibs. He’s more of a time trafficking victim, anyway. “Oh, wait, god,” he says. “Please don’t tell me you’re asking that because –“

“– I can see you in my future,” the skeleton finishes, eagerly, and Dean really wishes this thing had eyebrows so he could tell if they’re waggling.

“Yeah, okay. That’s enough for today,” Dean groans. “I need a drink.” He starts to back out of the room as a pre-emptive strike against Bones commenting on how he hates to see Dean leave, but loves to watch him go. Dean’s working on stumbling back again Sam’s left shoe when the skeleton pipes up one last time, this time with a husky, anxious edge.

“I realize that Purgatory isn’t accessible through a simple chronological shift,” it says, teeth chattering. “But it does require travel between modalities, and if you’re capable of that, I would very much like to speak with you again.”

Dean and Sam’s heads slowly swivel back towards the skeleton, like two little pizzas on the same Lazy Susan.

 An hour later, they’re still in the dungeon, working on dousing the skeleton with every possible anti-bad-stuff solution they’ve got, just in case he’s a vampire skeleton or a ghoul skeleton or a witch skeleton or maybe just a wendigo that’s incredibly bad at its job. In between progress reports, he’s still hitting on Dean.

“Dude, don’t you have an off switch somewhere?” Dean asks him.

“Well, Dean, you certainly make me feel like a light switch,–“

“– because you turn me on,” all three of them say in unison.

The skeleton looks a little embarrassed, which is kind of impressive when you think about it. “You’ve…heard that one before?” he asks.

“I spend a lot of time in bars,” Dean deadpans. “Okay, sage is a no-go.”

Sam strikes a line off on the clipboard he found upstairs. “Is this part of a curse or something?” he asks, glancing up at Bones. “Like on top of being a sentient skeleton, you can only speak in horrible pickup lines?”

The skeleton shakes his head, which produces a sound Dean recognizes from his kneecaps on cold mornings. “No, the spellwork allows me to speak freely on most subjects; except who I am, or how to free me. But it’s helpful to use language modern humans can easily understand.”

“Huh. Well, in a way, it is Dean’s native tongue,” Sam says, smirking.

“You shut your face,” Dean hisses.

“When I first saw you, I lost my tongue. Can I try yours on for size?” Bones asks Dean.

“Buddy, I don’t know where you get your information from, but nobody actually talks that way,” Dean tells him. “Nobody sober, anyway. Who isn’t a virgin.”

The skeleton slumps. “I learned from my last visitor. He tried to release me on several occasions, but he either died or abandoned the project.”

Dean arches a brow. “The project being…you?”

“I would be very valuable under the right circumstances.” The skeleton shrugs and casually holds out an arm for Dean to scrape at with the demon blade. “He gave me lessons in modern vernacular as a way to pass our time together.”

“Sounds like a peach,” Dean says, before he can catch himself. “If you have a peach-related pickup line in there, man, you’d better just sit on it.”

“That’s what-“

“I will smash you with a hammer,” Dean barks.

The skeleton relents, but with obvious reluctance.

 They call it quits before Kansas rolls up the sidewalk for the night and leaves them stranded with nothing but two Clif bars and a gross of septuagenarian cans of franks ’n beans. Bones shifts nervously when Dean leaves – “Which is better, pancakes or waffles?” he asks.

“Pancakes,” Dean says, with a sense of grim duty.

“Because I’d like to know what you’re making me for breakfast,” says Bones, his voice trailing off as Dean books it down the stony corridor.

  By lunch the next day (bologna sandwiches, so sue him, he’ll make something good later) they’re pretty sure that Bones doesn’t pose any known, immediate threat – other than to Dean’s sanity – so they switch gears to springing him. Maybe he will be worth something, or maybe he’ll crumble into dust and Be Free, or maybe he’ll just stop being chained to the basement wall, in which case he can become their skeleton butler or something.

There are weird runes on the ankle cuff, so Sam snaps some quick photos and heads upstairs to feel up the library. This leaves Dean in the basement with Bones, some good old-fashioned power tools, and Bones’s ex-suitor’s gross sense of humor.

“You know I can understand you just fine when you’re talking normally,” Dean says. “You’re just reciting some prehistoric shit that idiots say to girls to get a pity-laugh, hoping it leads to a pity-fuck.”

“What’s a pity-fuck?” Bones asks, all mildewy innocence. Dean’s pretty sure the grunge in his eyeball sockets is dried eyeball.

“Pretty much what it says on the tin, my guy,” Dean answers, and reaches for the acetylene torch.

 “Enochian,” Sam says, when Dean surfaces for another sandwich and possibly a beer. He’s really disappointed about the torch.

“Gesundheit?” Dean replies, around a mouthful of bologna. Like everything else here, the kitchen is pretty schwa, although the inside of the fridge required three exorcisms and half a jug of bleach.

Sam paws around the smelly old book in a way that makes Dean feel sorry for the girls Sam dated in high school. “The symbols on the cuff. I think they’re Enochian. It’s a fake celestial language made up by some sixteenth century con artists.”

Dean coughs up a bit of Wonder Bread. “I respect the hustle, but what’s it doing on an ankle cuff in a dungeon younger than Mickey Mouse?”

Sam frowns. “Well, it could be for show. But just because some nutbars made it up doesn’t mean it’s totally powerless. Maybe it does have some kind of…heavenly mojo.”

“Liwl probbem,” Dean observes, finishing off his sandwich. “Def nuh heggen.”

“Huh?”

Dean takes a swallow of beer. “I said: there’s no heaven.”

Sam shrugs. “We didn’t think there was a Purgatory, either.”

“Okay, but if we find out angels are real,” Dean snorts, “then Bones can fuck me in the ass.”

 Sam reports his findings to Bones, who sits placidly on the back of his pelvis, carpals splayed out on his kneecaps. What’s even holding him together? Dean can see what’s left of his ligaments, but they look like petrified gas station jerky.

“Do you know what they mean?” Sam asks him, pointing at the sigils.

Bones’s jaw creaks open a little, then closes again, and then he shakes his skull (something rattles inside.) Finally he makes a little frustrated noise and replies – “Baby, are you a book? Because I’d like to check you out.”

“Hey!” says Dean. “Keep it in your pants, man, I’m right here.”

Sam squints. “I think…Dean, I think he’s trying to tell us something, but the spell on him means he can’t say it directly.”

Bones clenches his fists, releases them, clenches them again.

“Yeah. Keep him talking. Let’s see how close he can get.”

Clack clack clack.

“Uh,” Dean says, rubbing the back of his neck. “Okay. Do I need to, like. Give you some kinda opening?” he asks Bones.

“Sweetheart, I’d like nothing better,” Bones answers, then clacks his knuckles on his brow with exasperation.

“Sorry, Christ. Hit me with your best shot, buddy. Dealer’s choice.”

Bones clears his…ghost throat? and tries: “Tell me, Dean…did it hurt?”

Dean blinks. “When I…fell from heaven?”

Sam claps his hands. “Fucking knew it. It is Enochian, and it does have something to do with this. I think he wants me to check the library for another book. Maybe there’s one misshelved or something that I can actually use to translate. Or I can Google around, maybe there’s a subreddit.”

Dean’s pretty sure Bones has never heard of a Google or a subreddit (for that matter, does Dean actually know what a subreddit is?), but it seems like there’s a glimmer of hope deep in those scum-holes.

 Sam gets translations for a few of the words – “obedience” and something he’s fifty percent sure means “millstone” – but the rest is still gobbledygook, and he hasn’t come down with another update in hours. The dungeon is pretty roomy, but it’s not like there’s a foosball table or a cable TV pickup down there, so Dean and Bones wind up lying on the cold-ass ground, staring up into the dark reaches of the ceiling together and, like. Chatting.

Occasionally Bones goes quiet and Dean glances over at him. He really could just be a totally normal, completely dead dungeon skeleton. A good power washing and the right mounting hardware and he’d be ready for a high school biology classroom.

“So if these runes are a celestial thing, does that mean you’re some kinda demonic...thing?” Dean asks. “Cause I gotta say, you’re a much less of a douche than the demons I’ve met.” He snorts. “I know you probably can’t say.”

Bones sighs (how? With what lungs?). “The last person who tried to free me was a demon.” He shifts a little, maybe surprised that he can say this out loud. “It had been so long since somebody had spoken to me…I’m afraid I came close to actually enjoying his company. But he was no better than his kind usually are.”

“Don’t suppose you caught his name? Maybe Sam or me killed him for you already.”

“He called himself—no, I can’t say it.” He makes a sound resembling a harumph.

Then his skull creaks over to look at Dean. “Does your name start with ‘C’?” he says, very deliberately.

Dean is momentarily puzzled, but he works it out by the time Bones wincingly adds “…because I’ve got a D that wants to come behind you.”

There aren’t too many demons under the “C” tab in Dean’s blood-stained mental rolodex, and when he says the name out loud, Bones makes a sound like an entire set of dominos being thrown down a spiral staircase.

  Crowley is pretty pissed, which is fun.

It’s nice that the dungeon floor already has a perfect trap on the floor; they don’t even have to hit up Ace Hardware for paint. A damp shop cloth and a little nail polish (Wet ’n Wild in “Red Red,” don’t leave home without it) brings it right up to working order.

“Why does it smell like a nail salon fucked a bloody wine cellar?” Crowley says, after he’s settled down a bit. He manifested right in the creepy torture chair (in the shackles, even! What service!) and he made some escape attempts followed by angry noises about rust stains. Now he’s recovered his dignity and has kicked back a bit, legs crossed, fingers steepled, oozing maximum levels of 2 cool 4 school.

“How do you know what a nail salon smells like?” Dean retorts.

“I get a monthly mani-pedi. There’s no shame in a little self-care, boys.” Crowley’s eyes trickle down to their feet. “Imagine what fungal horrors those work boots must conceal.” Then he squints, and looks up, finally taking in the whole room. “Could swear I’ve been here before. Little upscale for you, isn’t it? Did we splurge for a vacation rental?”

“Crowley, why don’t we roleplay Titanic?” Bones growls from the wall behind him, and Crowley’s face goes slack. “I’ll be the iceberg, and you can go down.”

Crowley swallows and slowly twists back, as far as the shackles let him. “Feathers, is that you? Well, as I live and breathe.”

“You do neither,” says Bones, with so much gravelly contempt that Dean suppresses a little shiver.

“Oh, I still breathe now and then, when the mood takes me. I’m a sentimentalist.” Crowley cranes his neck a little harder and squints into the dim. “Goodness, you’ve dropped some weight since we last spoke, haven’t you. Finally let go of all that pesky soft tissue?”

Bones tilts forward and kind of clatters onto hands and knees, then tipsily begins to rise up to standing. Dean’s a little concerned he’s gonna topple right over and they’re gonna spend the next two hours collecting him in a basket, but when he moves to help out, Bones waves him off. After a couple false starts he makes it up onto his feet bones and then shuffles out to the end of his chain, right under one of the overhead lights. He’s still a good couple feet off from Crowley, but Crowley looks like he wouldn’t mind a few extra acres.

Bones sways a little bit, just enough for Crowley to wince. “You didn’t come back.”

“I got busy.”

Sam shifts impatiently. “What is he?” he snaps, gesturing at Bones.

“Exceedingly dull,” Crowley says. “I should’ve guessed you were friends.”

Dean uncorks a fresh bottle of holy water.

“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you,” Crowley amends, quickly. “And even if you did, you wouldn’t know what to do with him. It’d be like giving a laptop to a pair of howler monkeys.”

Dean puts his thumb over the mouth of the water bottle and holds it over Crowley’s head. “Try me.”

Crowley scoffs, rolls his eyes. “It doesn’t matter what he is, since he’s useless as long as he’s chained up. And I wouldn’t have left him down here if I had a single clue how to smuggle him out.  I haven’t even been in here since the Bay of Pigs; I’d worked a loophole in one of the defense spells here that let me in. When it broke down, I lost my exploit. Wasn’t worth the bother after that.”

Dean slides his thumb a millimeter north of a perfect seal, and a fat drop of water busts its ass open on Crowley’s forehead and sends up a thin line of steam. “Good thing I’ve got a limitless supply of bother,” Dean notes. “Sam, we still got those syringes in the trunk?”

Crowley snarls. “Go ahead and melt me like the cartoon shoe in Roger Rabbit, it’s not going magically make me come up with a solution.”

Bones grunts and rattles his leg chain. “Do you speak Spanish, Crowley? Because you look like the Juan for me.”

“Did I teach you that one? You absolute xylophone.” Crowley glances back at Dean. “Do your worst, Squirrel, I deserve it.”

Sam frowns. “He uses the lines to get around the spell’s speech restrictions. This is something about speaking languages…were you able translate the Enochian symbols on his cuff?”

Crowley blinks. “What symbols?”

 After a whole lot of faffing around with mirrors and terrible cellphone photography, they confirm that Crowley can’t see the symbols at all.

“More demon-proofing. Clever little buggers, those Men of Letters,” Crowley sighs. “A real shame they were peeled and eaten like bananas.”

Finally Sam just hunkers down with a pencil and pad to transcribe the entire ankle cuff, and Dean awkwardly holds up Bones’s ankle, like he’s being sized for a glass slipper. When they shove the results in Crowley’s face, Dean watches his eyes dart along the words.

“Well, it’s your lucky day, boys. Along with the usual wankery, there are instructions on how to release the cuff. I can translate it,” he finally says, with an unusually low inflection of bullshit, “but I’ll thank you to release me, first.”

Dean is flummoxed. “What, you’re not gonna haggle for a cut of the profits or anything?”

“Activating the release mechanism will free him completely, and restore his…restore him. I’d rather be at a safe distance.” He glances back at Bones, looming in the shadows. “A continent or three should do the trick.”

“If it doesn’t work–“

“I’d be more worried about what happens if it does,” Crowley sighs.  “But feel free to summon me back for tea and sympathy. Here, I’ll even give you my number. But please, no personal photography. I pity you enough as it is.”

  Crowley finally smokes out, and Dean has a beer to celebrate while Sam looks over the list of what they need and Bones clatters his fingertips like castanets. The ingredients are (as always) larded with shit that’s exotic and expensive; Sam is looking crestfallen at some of the items. “I’ve heard of all of this, but I’ve only seen maybe half of it for sale anywhere.”

“Baby, are you a yard sale? Because you’ve got some serious junk in that trunk,” Bones monotones. He’s back to lying on the floor.

At least it’s getting easier to translate this shit. “They’ve got all the ingredients here somewhere,” Dean says. Sam looks skeptical. “C’mon, Sam, no way these dudes would use a lock when they didn’t have the key.”

The ensuing scavenger hunt takes a few pints of elbow grease, but at least by the end they’re both familiar with the Bunker’s floor plan, document filing system, and inventory records. They find virtually everything in-house, though they do end up driving to the nearest farm stand for some hen’s eggs and rosemary (and heirloom tomatoes, because they look bomb).

Dean christens – or maybe exorcises – the kitchen range with some red meat, and they fuel up with burgers before taking the plunge. Dean’s still licking the ketchup off his fingers when Bones pipes up one last time. “Can I ask you something?” he says.

Dean and Sam brace for impact.

Bones sighs. “That’s not the start of a pickup line. I genuinely have a question.”

“Shoot.”

“Why are you so intent on freeing me? You could have just left me down here. I’m not a threat this way. You only have Crowley’s word that you might profit - or suffer - from my release.”

Sam gives Dean a look; it’s the look that says I sure hope you have an answer, because I think this entire thing has been dumb as shit and half as necessary. It’s a look Sam uses pretty regularly.

“Uh. It’s the right thing to do? As far as I can tell, you haven’t hurt anybody or done anything else to deserve being down here. We went through all those records upstairs, and there’s no note that says ‘by the way, that skeleton downstairs eats babies for breakfast.’ This place is cool, but the dudes who built it were obviously shady as fuck.”

“I see.” Bones sounds a little disappointed.

Sam fake-coughs into his hand, and Dean sets down his paper napkin. “Also, you seem cool. Like, you’re easy to hang out with. Other than the stinky one-liners, and we’re gonna wean you off of those.”

Bones straightens himself out a little. “Thank you, Dean. You know, on a scale of one to ten, I’d rate you a nine.”

“Okay, okay. Why not a ten?”

Bones sets his chin on his knuckle bones with a tidy little clack. “Because I’m the one you’re missing.”

Dean groans, but he thinks the guy might be smiling, somewhere behind that skeletal grin.

 By hour two, Sam’s pretty tuckered out from pulverizing a billion and three mummified dove livers while reciting nonsense syllables, and Dean’s right arm is about to fall off from holding up this giant silver swizzle stick that’s either a really weird short sword or a decorative javelin, but Bones has never looked perkier. He’s lying on a nice white bedsheet and looking fresh as a recently exhumed daisy.

“Okay,” Sam rasps. “Light the candle and we should be good to go. Any last words, Bones?”

“Are either of you religious?” He crosses his arm bones over each other.

“Fuck no,” Dean answers, before Sam gets a chance to launch into it.

Bones shakes his skull fondly. “You should reconsider. Because you’re the answer to my prayers.”

Dean makes a gagging noise and lights the candle.

 What happens next (well, after the cuff pops open) is some of the freakiest shit that Dean has ever seen, and his Freaky CV is pretty fucking impressive, thanks. Bones tells them to avert their eyes, “just in case”, but he takes a peek between his fingers anyway, because he’s an idiot.

For a second Bones is just lying there, and Dean has a second of real disappointment that maybe he’s Moved On Past The Veil or something, but then he starts…foaming. It starts out kind of uniform and colorless, but then it really picks up speed and volume and starts to separate into swaths of distinct and horrible colors and textures. He closes his eyes again for a second to give his stomach a chance to reboot, and when he looks again the foam is gone, and instead there’s a whole lot of angry jelly trying to form into organs.

Just as the jelly is really getting its shit together and looking more like lungs and intestines and stuff, the heart-jelly pulses once and sends out a fistful of big squishy vines…veins? and a fat white worm of nerve scrambles down the spinal column and starts putting out franchises. This is followed by some disturbingly tasty-looking red sheets of muscle that swiftly sheathe over all the whole scene, and then the muscles start sweating out fat and cartilage and this is the point where Dean decides that looking away is actually definitely one hundred percent for the best. Even then, the sounds are tough to handle.

Kinda wild: he’s seen people taken apart, but watching one get put back together is somehow gnarlier. Well, if this guy is even a person. It’s a human skeleton, sure, but god knows even Mickey Rourke has one under there.

Finally everything seems to have quieted down.

“How you doin’ over there, Bones?” Dean asks, and dares to take a peek.

Bones is crouched down in front of them, fists balled up in the bedsheets (it’s a relief that the bedsheets didn’t get accidentally sucked into the muscle layer or something, like one of those surgeons who leaves a sponge behind). Dean sees white guy skin and some dark messy hair and gets the gist of a decent build.

The face slowly cranes upwards, and Dean is really truly ready for anything here; tusks, fangs, Klingon forehead ridges, gingivitis. Instead he gets a faceful of hot math teacher. Bones’s eyes are still closed, but he’s frowning like he’s mentally reviewing his strategy to explain the quadratic equation to a roomful of horny teens.

He slowly rises to standing (yikes! Naked! Dean is a Moderately Bad Man, so he glances, but just long enough to register “nice), uncurling slowly and carefully.

Then he’s all the way up. Bones squares his shoulders and straightens the last kink in his spine, and the frown resolves. Dean’s about to say something, when his eyes snap open, and this cold white light absolutely blasts out of them, and fuck, Crowley wasn’t kidding: this guy is definitely A Thing. The whole room flattens and distorts in the light. Shadows race up the walls like they’re looking for a way out, then snap together into the shape of enormous ragged wings, stretching thirty feet higher than the actual ceiling clearance.

Then the light dies down; the wings fade into regular-grade shadows. Instead of a terrifying unearthly avatar of Oh Shit, Dean’s looking at a buck naked thirty-something math teacher. Who happens to be an unearthly avatar of Oh Shit. And has nice eyes.

“My name is Castiel, angel of the Lord, Seraph of the First Shield,” the avatar says, in a piss-shakingly resonant version of Bones’s voice.

Then: “Do you speak English, Dean?”

“Yes?” Dean fumbles.

“So do I,” says Castiel, and smiles.

Then he makes finger-guns.

  Castiel sticks around for a grand total of five minutes before he’s suddenly gone again, because angels are (a) real and they can (b) teleport? at (c) any moment because (d) fuck you, then he reappears six hours later (clothed) standing over Dean’s bed, having apparently forgotten that humans like to sleep; this time Dean does shoot him, but luckily he doesn’t seem to take it personally.   

“I located Crowley,” Bo- Castiel says. The silver sword-javelin thing is sitting on the kitchen counter in front of him; apparently it’s an Angel Blade and it lives in Castiel’s coat sleeve and can vaporize demons. It doesn’t look like it has any Crowley on it, but maybe it’s self-cleaning.

“Did you kill him?” Dean asks, now that he’s semi-coherent and wrapped around a cup of coffee in the kitchen.

“Not this time,” Cas answers. “He did help, after all.”

“Sure,” says Dean.

“You don’t need to let me fuck you in the ass, either,” Castiel says, and Dean honks some coffee up the back of his nose.

“Oh,” he gasps. “Okay. Cool. Thanks. Didn’t realize you could hear that convo all the way down there.”

“Angels have excellent hearing. Mine wasn’t impacted by the spell.”

Dean can think of at least three very private moments Castiel almost definitely could hear every instant of, and longs for death. Or maybe not, since apparently this guy lives in Heaven and could hear him there, too. “Great. Good to know. Noted.”

“But…” Castiel looks wistful.

“What?” Dean nudges him. Dean Winchester: angel nudger.

Castiel frowns. “If I said…” he stops himself. “This is…what I want to say is very irregular, at least between angels and humans.”

“Jesus christ on a goddamn pogo stick, man. It’s three in the morning, some of us have a circadian rhythm and a limited lifespan. Say whatever it is you gotta say.”

Castiel looks up and drowns Dean in his swimming pool eyes, which Dean has learned belong to a radio ad salesman in Illinois, who Castiel possessed a few years back before jumping several decades into the past to run some errands and getting rope-a-doped by the Men of Letters and then warehoused in their basement; after they all spontaneously bought the farm, he just slowly ran out of the power reserves needed to keep his vessel from turning to mush and hey presto, talking skeleton.

Classic story, really.

“If I said you had a beautiful body, Dean,” Castiel says, solemnly, “Would you hold it against m-“

Dean doesn’t let him finish. {AO3 version}

[ground-riot-jack]

doesn’t equal forever | r. tanaka | part 1

bestfriend!tanaka x reader

tanaka has been your bestfriend for years, but you’re determined to confess your feelings this movie night

warnings: angst, a lot of angst, cussing of course, a little bit of fluff.

You and the crazy ball of aggressive energy that you called your bestfriend, Tanaka, have been friends since middle school. You’d been sat next to each other in homeroom so it became natural to ask the other for a pencil or homework answers or to just study together. You’d grown close and decided to both attend Karsuno High School. Your first year you realized you had feelings for Ryu. He was funny, nice and he always made sure you were okay. As the time went on your feelings for Ryu only grew stronger.

The only person who knew about your feelings was your mutual friend Nishinoya. You’re not sure how but he figured it out before you did, teasing you quietly to make a move on the bald crackhead you liked.

You never tried too hard to show Tanaka your feelings for him, sticking to light flirting and usual bestfriend antics. You figured if he liked you, he’s forward enough to tell you. By your second year, you quickly realized Tanaka didn’t have feelings for you, but instead was obsessed with Kiyoko, team manager.

It began as a joke, really it did. Noya, Ryu and you would fangirl over Kiyoko any chance you got as an inside joke about her beauty. Then you slowly backed off as the boys took their job as Kiyokos personal hype man and bodyguards a little more seriously.

Today was like every other day. You were helping Noya and Ryu set up some drills in the gym, talking and gossiping about random things when the gym doors opened quickly, Kiyoko and Yachi jogging in quickly and immediately going to Coach Ukai and Takeda.

“Awe man, It looks like Kiyoko got us that practice match we’ve been looking for. What can’t she do?” Tanaka sighs dreamily while watching his older manager. His task was long forgotten and now laid on you and Noya to complete.

“Oí, have some respect for Kiyoko and yourself. Quit staring” Noya smacks Ryu on the back of his shaved head, who jumps and goes back to his task, while mumbling about a new headache.

“So, do you guys wanna come over and finally watch the season finale of-“

“VAMPIRE DIARIES” The boys shouted in unison.

“Of course y/n, we’ll meet at your place at 8. Ive gotta shower and big sis cooked dinner tonight.” Tanaka replies

“Okay, i’ll grab us some snacks and be ready at 8. if either of you aren’t there before 8:30 I’m starting the show without you.” You send a pointed look at the two boys who weren’t very good at time management.

Once practice ended, you, Noya and Ryu were getting ready to walk out when Tanakas name is called. You all stop and turn and see Kiyoko motioning him over.

“She’s calling me? She wants me!” Tanaka stutters out before sprinting full speed to where she’s standing across the gym.

“whatever, let’s just head home, get a head start in my shower and dinner.” Noya pouts, clearly jealous. You both begin the walk home, living fairly close to each other.

“I think tonight’s the night Noya.” You sigh dreamily.

“The night? Like tonight? Woah y/n, when did you get bold?”

“I just-I really really like him and i’m tired of hiding it. Plus, we’ve been flirting since we were kids. He has to have some kinda feelings for me. And if he doesn’t it’s fine, i’m a big girl and rejection is just apart of life” You huff. You look over and see Noya wiping fake tears from his eyes.

“My baby is all grown up” He fake wails into the air, causing you to shove him to the side. He gasps before jumping on you and tickling you making you beg for mercy. When you beg and his hands finally let up, he lets out a light sigh. “I’m serious y/n, i’m proud of you, plus i think he likes you too, you’ll be so cute together” Noya smiles brightly before hugging you and waving bye before heading down his street, leaving you to yourself.

8pm rolls around and You hear a knock on your front door, before you can move to open it, it flies open revealing Noya standing there in pajamas holding candy.

“Damn, do come in them bitch” You giggle at the energetic boy.

“Ryus not here yet?” Noya says, plopping down on your couch.

“Uh, no. I’ll text the group chat.” You vite your lip and pull out your phone.

“Uh he’s so lucky, Id die if Queen Kiyoko asked me to run an errand for her.” Noya sighs dramatically.

“Even if it was during your bestfriend weekly movie night?” You grumble before standing and moving to the kitchen to bust your mind.

“Don’t be upset pumpkin, Kiyoko is just like a little crush everyone, even you, has so Ryu is doing something for her. He will be here in no time, you can confess your feelings and then we can watch our absolute favorite show.” Noya follows you, smiling brightly at you.

“Yea you’re right, i’m just a little nervous. You wanna watch some youtube till Ryu gets here?” You smile back. You both head into the living room to pass time until your other bestfriend arrives.

At 8:45, you and Noya began getting a little worried. You’d called Ryu but he hasn’t answered. He wasn’t always on time, but he was never this late without contacting one of you. You went ahead and texted Ryu and couple more times just in case he fell asleep after his shower. You sat silently chewing your lip, worried about Ryu when Noyas phone dinged. He tapped the screen to reveal a text from the man of the hour.

Tanaka 🥵✨

on my way!

Noya relayed the message to you and decided to use the bathroom before Tanaka got there so you could go ahead and start the episode. While Noya was gon his phone, left on the coffee table, made another ding. You took a quick look so you could tell Noya when he came back, like you usually do.

Tanaka 🥵✨

also y/n kept blowing up my phone while I was with kiyoko, she almost cock blocked me 😭it was low key annoying

Your chest tightened, your stomach dropped, your heart broke and your breathing sped up. Ryu had never once expressed that you were ever bothering him, to your face atleast. Maybe he always texted Noya about you like this. Your eyes stung with tears that you pushed back. You re read the text until it something else crossed your mind. You’d almost cock blocked him? Does that mean-

You’re interrupted by your front door swinging open to reveal a exasperated Ryu. You stood and ran to the kitchen, claiming you needed more snacks. You heard Noya leaving the bathroom and saying hey to Ryu. Then you heard hushed yelling, but you couldn’t make out the words. You gathered food and took a deep breath before waking back out. You just had to casually ask Ryu about his night with Kiyoko, then you could admit your feelings if the time was right.

You walked in and saw Noya looking at his phone then Ryu and then you. You set the food down and got on your phone to text Noya, letting him know you saw the text. You heard his breath hitch and he looked at you with pity and confusion.

“Where’s my hug y/n?” Ryu smiles brightly, you hugged him but pulled back slightly when you realized he smelled like expensive perfume instead of his usual cologne. He took his jacket off and sat on the couch, and your heart broke more than you thought it could.

There were atleast 5 hickies on Ryus neck, and one peeking out the collar of his shirt, letting you know there were more on his chest. You looked at your lap but saw Noya kick Ryu in the shin.

“wha- oh you guys want an announcement, haha i get it. Yes okay, I slept with Kiyoko. No big deal” Ryu bragged, striking a pose as you held back a fountain of tears.

You tried to open your mouth to share a false congrats but the lump in your throat made it next to impossible to say anything without sobbing. You gripped your sweatpants tighter in an effort to calm yourself. The air in the room grew awkward as everyone sat in silence.

“Y/n? Are you okay? What’s wrong?” Ryu asks, at his question you can’t help but let the dam break, sobs racking your body as tears flowed from your face. You could do nothing but cry into your hands.

“I-i, i don’t understand. Are you okay?” Ryu moves closer but you run upstairs and slam your bedroom door shut. You can vaguely hear them talking downstairs but not clearly enough to even tell who’s speaking. Meanwhile, the boys were having a heated discussion.

“You absolute idiot! Why would you do this.” Noya gripped his hair and pulled.

“What the hell is going on?” Ryu pleads.

“I-You- You just had to fuck Kiyoko on movie night? You just messed everything up! Oh and y/n saw your text by the way! Some friend you are” Noya laughs dryly at the taller boy.

“My text...Oh shit! I didn’t mean it like that. I just- I didn’t. Kiyoko asked me to help her with something and I did and then she was flirting with me and then-“

“Y/n IS IN LOVE WITH YOU IDIOT!” Noya shoves Ryu over the couch, causing his to trip and land on his ass. “She loves you more than a friend and she was going to confess tonight, then you stroll in here almost an hour late with hickies all over you and smelling exactly like Kiyoko. You don’t think that hurts y/n, and then on top of that you called her annoying when she was worried about you. So you either need to go up there and say you like her too or you need to apologize and leave because I will not sit here while you play with her feelings.” Noya says now standing over the taller boy.

“I-, I didn’t know she liked me. I-I don’t like her like that. She’s my bestfriend Nishinoya. Of course I love her, but like you love a cousin or something.” Ryu spits out, eyes full of regret.

“Then go upstairs, apologize and let her down gently.” Noya picks Tanaka up by his collar and pushes him towards youre bedroom. Tanakas throat tight hens as he gets closer to your room. He can hear you sobbing from down the hall he’s walked a million times.

He slowly pushes open your door and see you laying in your bed, face pushed into a pillow and sobbing.

“I love him so much, Noya. And stupid gorgeous Kiyoko gets him. She wasn’t even there for everything. She wasn’t there for him like I was!” You scream into your pillow before looking up and seeing Tanaka standing in your doorway. You quickly straighten up and wipe your face while avoiding eye contact with your crush and bestfriend.

“Y/n, i’m so sorry. I’m so sorry, I didn’t know. I wouldn’t have-“

“It’s fine Tanaka, if you like her then you like her” You sigh.

“I didn’t mean to call you annoying. You know you’re my bestfriend and I love you, but not like that. I’m sorry y/n, I can’t be what you’re expecting me to be.” He sits at your desk chair.

“Then why are you here Tanaka? Here you can have all your stuff back-“ You stand, speeding into the anger stage of your grief. You quickly grab jewelry and stuffed animals you’d received from him over the years.

“Stop calling me Tanaka, and I want you to keep the stuff”

“I will continue to call you Tanaka because I clearly don’t know you as well as I thought I did. And you think I want your stuff in my room? You think I wanna roll over and be reminded that you will never feel the same way about me and that fucking Kiyoko was the one to get you in the end? I’m not doing that. You think i want your stupid hoodie that smells exactly like you in my closet? or even on me? So i can be reminded that I can never hold you this close again and that you will never be my Ryu. Is that what you want for me Tanaka? So take your shit and leave, please” You box as much of his things as you can and press the box into his chest.

“Y/n...”

“No Tanaka. It’s okay. Deep down I always knew you didn’t feel the same. The way you look at Kiyoko, I knew you’d never look at me that way. I’m just your friend right, so i have no choice but to support you.” You sniffle and open your bedroom door for Tanaka to walk out of.

“Y/n, can you just wait a second. I’ve barely got a word in,”

“If you’re not going to tell me you love me, then you need to go because honestly dude, it’s hurt so fucking bad just looking at you.” You bite your lip and keep your eyes trained on the floor. You dared to sneak a glance at Ryu but what you saw caused ur heart to clench. His eyes were wide and glossy, his hands were lightly shaking. When he was like this, your normal reaction was to hold him and tell him everything’s gonna be okay, but now you couldn’t. You kept your hands to yourself and you waited as he walked out of your room.

“I’m sorry y/n. I am” He sighs before leaving your house completely.

Authors note: PHEw!!! i actually cried writing this so i’m sorry, i hope you liked it. I love tanaka so much and i love kiyoko but i saw the opportunity and i decided to hurt my own feelings :)))

[lizacstuff]

Another very good episode despite the sad ending which was very well executed by hande. What did you think of the episode?

Very good episode. One nice thing about these new writers, so far, is that the episodes flow a bit better than they used to flow. I think the prior team had trouble putting 2+ hour story without it being disjointed.  These guys seem to be able to manage the format better. 

So much to love in this chapter. So much comedy. So much fun. So much ripping my heart out and stopping on it and then kicking it a little and then throwing it into a fiery lava volcano pit for good measure. 

All those emotions were felt. 

Edser to come, but let's start with Babaanne and the Prince.  It really feels like these characters were introduced with another story in mind, and then the show pivoted. Perhaps the new writers wanted something else, or maybe Fox wanted to renew but wanted the show to get back to basics so they changed course to this reset of sorts? It all feels unfinished.

(continued under the cut)

I think we were all expecting more trouble from both characters.  Not that kidnapping Eda isn't causing trouble, it clearly is, but the fact that it was resolved in the first 5 minutes is notable. What was the point? It did give them a cliffhanger, a chance for Serkan to be a hero, a reason for Serkan to fire Balca, and a reason for Babaanne to change her tune, so it wasn't completely pointless, it served some plots, however it was very anticlimactic. 

Babaanne was pretty anticlimactic too. She comes on like a house on fire in 25, having Serkan arrested on serious charges that could have stuck, framing Alptekin, ruining the project the team had won via the tender. She manipulates Eda into breaking Serkan's heart, goes full matchmaker with the Prince, but then when Eda decides, "Nah, I'm not only not going to give up on Serkan, I'm gonna marry him." she backs off all her threats? 

It does make me wonder if both or either (offscreen) the Prince or Babaanne have something to do with Serkan's plane going missing.  Just so they can fulfill their evil potential. Either of them is powerful enough to pull that off, and it makes more sense than either of them giving up so easily. 

As for Aydan and Ayfer, they made for some pretty good laughs this episode. I think the friction caused by their inherent differences is much more funny, than the fighting over Chef Alexander. As I said in another ask, Ayfer worked my last nerve in her very first scene this episode. She wakes up after being dosed by her mother's choice of life-mate for Eda, but immediately blames the Bolats. Fuck off with that. She enabled her mother, she is more to blame for this situation than anyone but the villains. If she would have stood up to her mother and supported Eda instead of choosing to further Babaanne's agenda by opposing the wedding, maybe Eda's life wouldn't have been put in such danger.  I can't with her. She would deserve it if Eda puts a little distance between them.  

GO DETECTIVE MELO! Love her tenacity in putting together the pieces of Henna night and rightly figuring out Balca's duplicity. For a second there I thought they weren't going to tell Serkan what they found, which made me nervous, but then at the first opportunity she blurts it out. Well done!  We should have known Serkan would be two steps ahead of them except that he's been two steps behind when it comes to Balca since the very beginning. It was very satisfying to watch him fire her. Though, I do wish we would have seen him find out she purposely put strawberry in his drink.  Good riddance!   The ILYs between Serkan and Melo were very sweet, it speaks so well of Serkan that he has such a soft spot for her. Of course it is only natural since Melo has been an unwavering supporter of his since the beginning, Serkan picks his allies well. 

Now onto the couples. The tension between all the romantic pairs this episode was fun, and obviously done for over-the-top comic relief, but also very silly, lmao. Those boys are so DUMB!  Engin has the sensibility of a preteen boy and Ferit never knows when to shut up, he's so naive and he can't read a room.  

However, who didn't love the friendship growth between Serkan and Ferit?  They planned a 15-day bike trip? I'm dying! And crying! However, I fully believe that Eda-broke-up-with-me-I-have-a-sad-and-need-a-distraction Serkan planned that trip and I found it preposterous that Serkan would have any desire to still go right after he got married.  We're supposed to believe that schmoopy, smitten, horny Serkan is ready to leave his newlywed bride for that length of time? Puh-lease he's planning every way he's going to sex her up over the next 6 months, and it's going to take every free minute. Also they can't even find time to get to Paris for the night, but he's going away for that?? NOPE.  Maybe next year, Ferit... but also invite the girls to the bike portion.  

The tension between Eda and Serkan in the first half hour of the ep was a nice little truncated story of the stress wedding planning and a looming, giant life change can put on a couple. Edser started the day in a very schmoopy place, but by the time they left Aydan's they were already starting to feel the pressure. The bickering between Ayfer and Aydan felt typical, and I felt myself being more sympathetic with Aydan.  They're rich, why wouldn't they hire a wedding coordinator? That's a helluva lot of work to do in 3 days!  Why would Ayfer want to spent that time doing centerpieces when she could be enjoying the pre wedding festivities? Dumb. The gems as favors do seem a little over-the-top, but I'd like to take home one of those aquamarines when I attend their wedding, so I won't complain. As far as where they're going to live, both ladies need to step off! They need to be at least 15 minutes of driving distance from both of them.  Not living on the Bolat property and not living in Ayfer's neighborhood. Geez. I'm stressed just typing it up, no wonder it set the betrothed couple on edge.  Obviously, they were having a major disconnect when they got to work. Serkan was dealing with a crisis and probably should have just told Eda that instead of burying himself in work, ignoring her, and getting irritated with her. Meanwhile, Eda should have noticed he was more focused than even the typical workaholic robot, and that meant something important. 

The misunderstanding that fueled their full day stand-off was so silly, and preventable, but also led to hilarity and one of my favorite scenes ever so I won't be too hard on how manufactured it was.  Each of these things-- family wedding planning stress, Serkan being inattentive due to work crisis, and Serkan acting a little "the old ball and chain" when Ferit was blundering along about guys trips and postponing the wedding-- all led to an Eda who was already feeling a bit insecure, so when she overheard Serkan's phone conversation it's not shocking she took it the wrong way.  However, it takes a bit more handwaving to believe Serkan took the conversation the wrong way and went right to freezing her out. Come on, Serkan, you're less emotional and have less reasons to be feeling vulnerable at that moment. She was in your office trying to get your attention on wedding planning and your home and future. You were the one too busy to engage!  Though, I suppose it's believable that these two stubborn souls would allow the misunderstanding to fester out of pride, rather than confront it head on and clear it up right away. It's pretty consistent that when one of them gets their feelings hurt and feels rejected by the other, their defensive walls go up and they both revert to pretending they're just fine and the other's rejection can't hurt them. They need to get over this asap.  

That poor wedding planner. She has a couple insisting they get married in 3 days, they're entirely unhelpful and now they aren't even speaking to one another?  I understand her frustration and don't ding her for asking if they're sure they're ready to get married, but her saying that was definitely one of the things that contributed to the insecurities they were both already feeling. They were both so sad when they had the last conversation in the office, each one suggesting the other to take time to think and rest. Their video call that night was equally as fraught and sad. Sweet, dumb babies. 

The entire sequence of the girls stealthing into the hotel and hiding on the couch was hilarious. I love that Eda doesn't realize that crashing the bachelor party could be embarrassing until she's flat on her back on that couch, hiding behind lobby foliage.  As for the boys, they redeemed themselves a little bit, by being too upset to enjoy themselves.  

One of my favorite parts is Eda trying to be breezy as if the girls being there has nothing to do with the bachelor party. I laughed at Melo taking the blame for suggesting the resort. The single gal always takes the blame, just like the unmarried/not engaged Ferit gets the blame later.  This moment (click here) is one of my favorites of the episode. I still am not sure what she's trying to say with her looping gestures and pointing upstairs and then her haughty pose, and I don't think Serkan knows either, but yet he just gets a kick out of her. The guy who Engin said never smiled, smiles pretty damn easily these days. Also j’adored the wardrobe that had them matching perfectly in shades of cream and olive. In sync and gorgeous. 

Speaking of wardrobe, during that fireplace conversation Serkan looked so huggable in that fleece pullover (more casual Serkan, please!) that I felt terrible that they were not in a place where she could cuddle up to him in front of the fire. Come on! We deserved to see that. That was the biggest tragedy in that scene, slightly ahead of them postponing the wedding. As for that, they were both so convinced that the other thinks they're going too fast, that neither of them was listening to how the other positioned it. Each positioning it as the other's preference. That illustrated the trouble that a little insecurity and a lot of pride can cause.  

Now on to my favorite scene of the episode! Seriously, immediately after watching it I mentally vaulted it to my top 10 scenes list (no such list exists, and if it did it would change all the time, lol).  First, can I say how I appreciated that the friends were all shocked at the news they were postponing the wedding? Ferit and Engin couldn't believe it, and Melo, Ceren and Piril all actively questioned the idea that Serkan would want to postpone. Thank you! You just know if Ayfer were there she would have tried to say "Oh, that's too bad, but really for the best, let's celebrate!"  

Anyway, I loved every second from the moment Serkan says, "Eda, can we talk?" until the apology. Finally, instead of being led by their pride, they both show some hurt which is the catalyst for the heated conversation that clears everything up.  

It's impressive how consistent they've been with some characterizations and how Serkan and Eda yin/yang each other. Eda has always had trouble saying, "I love you." It just doesn't come easy to her. She illustrated that in episode 12, she can handle the sentiment and agree with it, "our feelings are mutual" but it's hard for her to say the words. 

Conversely, Serkan has never had that problem. From the minute he confessed he has told her how much he loves her many, many times and in many, many different ways. What Serkan has trouble with is "I'm sorry". It is so hard for him to say those words. In episode 9, all it would have taken to get Eda back was a simple apology, instead he spent an entire episode doing everything to get her back, but the very simple act of saying, "I'm sorry. That is some next level aversion to apologizing. Whereas Eda doesn't have that problem, she can own her mistakes and apologize pretty easily. 

These scenes outside showcased this dynamic beautifully.  After the misunderstanding is rectified, Eda very easily apologizes, but Serkan goes with a "me too" type of response. The sentiment is there, but he doesn't say the words. A few minutes later, after the crew joins them, Serkan goes all romantic robot and tells her how much he loves her, then prompts her, but instead Eda teases and teases until she finally whispers it. 

Obviously, she loves him and obviously he is sorry about the misunderstanding, but I like the consistency that they both still have trouble vocalizing these specific things.

The fact that Serkan was ready to chuck the guys and his bachelor party in order to have a romantic night with her is very sweet, and also points out how silly the notion of him wanting to travel extensively without her right after they get married. I don't mind things that are exaggerated for humor, but still humor shouldn't need you to completely change the attitudes of the characters in order to hit. And playing on jokes about how marriage and a wife might be viewed as a burden, especially in context of a couple who aren't even married yet, isn't awesome. Which I get, the fact that it is a shitty attitude and a crappy joke fueled the fights between the couples, so at least there was that. It wasn't accepted. 

The lovely montage by the lake was a wonderful way to show us some quiet, romantic moments between them. That's one of the great things about this format, they have time to occasionally gift us with scenes that don't drive the plot, don't move forward any story or character development or even have dialogue, they just exist to make us swoon and fall even more in love with this couple. Mission accomplished! The fact that Kerem is the one who found that location just makes it sweeter. 

Engin, Engin, Engin. What makes you think it is a good idea to judge a beauty pageant?  Your wife is in the hotel! Not that she would be jealous, but, you know, assigning a number value to women based on their looks... it's not great. Also I realize that it's a necessity while shooting with Covid, and we just have to suspend disbelief in scenes that should have tons of extras but are barren, but the hotel holding a beauty pageant and the only people in attendance are three dudes who just happened to be bored in the lobby is funny in and of itself.  But glad the girls got a chance to take their revenge and make the boys feel what it's like to be judged in such a way. Plus it was worth some laughs and gave us a way to unite the bachelor party with the pajama party. 

For me the next scenes only exist to have Edser draped all over each other in the bar.  I didn't really pay too much attention, I think Piril/Engin and Ceren/Ferit all made up, but I do know Serkan wanted to ditch everyone and go back to the room and since we know what happened next.... we know why!  Though I did wonder, did he have a massage appointment for like 10pm?  Or was it the next day? It matters not at all, but it did strike me while watching. I CAN'T BELIEVE HOW MUCH WE GOT OF THEM IN THE TUB!!!  *flings self into the sun*  That was quite something.  Bless these new writers and their willingness to go there.  I love that scene so much. Serkan's smile is just... something else. 

One nitpick is the lighting. Obviously, with the timeline they shoot on, some production value will go by the wayside, though mostly I think they do a decent job despite all the constraints. However, one place that is consistently lacking is lighting in indoor, one-off locations.  The coffee shop in ep 12 is an example, and this was another one. I can understand they need to get in and out quickly. In this case the crew wouldn't have been able to probably prep as much as they'd like, because you're probably not going to put any stand-ins in the water, and you can't take time to perfect it once your big stars are in the tub, mostly naked, submerged and pruning, but the harsh shadows across each of their faces is distracting. Where were the bounce boards? Even those lines out. 

But obviously we don't care. WE GOT THEM BEING SEXY AND PLAYFUL IN THE TUB! What a bounty. That's all that matters.  Loved all the wedding prep, especially the lovely Aydan and Eda scenes. There was SO MUCH JOY... until there wasn't. 

I'm not going to spend much time on the contrivance that led us to the final scenes. I mean, first, Erdem... why are you so incompetent?  And, second, do they not have E-signature in Turkey? Or scanners? Or even fax machines? The idea of having to fly to Italy just to sign something is ridiculous. Oh well, whatever drives their plot, I guess. 

The final Edser scene was brilliant and beautiful and heartfelt and romantic and ominous and painful. All the things it should have been for what happens next.  Poor Serkan! Poor Eda! Why can't they catch a break? 

[btsqualityy]

BTS Second Pregnancy Series #13: Final Preparations

36 weeks, or 9 months, pregnant

Kim Seokjin

“Hey you two,” you called as you walked into the spare bedroom where Jin and Kaiden were sitting on the floor, trying to finish putting the new baby’s crib together.

“Hi Mommy,” Kaiden chirped as he looked up at you and you gave him a small smile before looking over at Jin, who’s tongue was poked out of his mouth as he concentrated on what he was doing.

“How’s it going?” You wondered and Jin finally looked up at you, a small pout on his face.

“Was it this hard to put together this crib when you were pregnant with Kade?” He wondered and you shrugged your shoulders.

“You and Hobi put it together last time, remember?” You told him and he nodded.

“Remind me on why we took this crib apart once Kade was done using it?” Jin requested.

“Because he was getting bigger and he needed a big boy bed,” you chuckled. “We also didn’t know when we’d end up having another baby.”

“I used to sleep in here?” Kaiden questioned as he pointed to the parts of the crib and you nodded your head.

“Yep, for a pretty long time too,” you told him. 

“Ugh, this is so unnecessarily complicated,” Jin exclaimed as he threw down the two parts that he had in hands onto the floor. “Do I really have to finish this now?”

“It’d be nice if you did,” you giggled. “But we also don’t want you to have a hernia so you don’t have to worry about it today.”

“Thank God,” he muttered as he stood up from the floor and stretched his arms out. “At least we got the rest of the nursery done though.”

“You and Kade did a great job,” you nodded as you looked around the room.

“Do you like my pictures Mommy?” Kaiden asked as he pointed up to the handrawn pictures that he had made that were in frames on the wall, which included the one that he had drawn a week ago of your whole family.

“I love them sweetie,” you nodded, a giggle escaping you when Kaiden hugged your leg tightly. “I think the baby is gonna love them too.”

Min Yoongi

“Hey baby girl,” Yoongi smiled as Kinsley walked into the kitchen, having just woken up for the day.

“Hi Daddy,” she replied, wiping at her eyes. She then walked over to you, climbing up onto the chair next to you and looking up at you. “Hi Mommy.”

“Hi sweetheart,” you replied, leaning over and kissing the top of her head. “What do you want for breakfast?”

“Can I have oatmeal please?” She requested. 

“Of course,” Yoongi nodded as he set to work making a bowl for her. 

“With the brown stuff too?” Kinsley added.

“It’s called brown sugar,” you told her with a chuckle and she nodded her head.

“Brown sugar too please,” Kinsley corrected and Yoongi nodded.

“Kins, me and Daddy have something that we have to ask you,” you spoke up and Kinsley looked up at you. “So, you know how Kammie is gonna be coming really soon, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, when I go to have her, only me and Daddy are going to go to the hospital so we wanted to ask you who would you want to stay with while we’re gone?”

“I can choose?” She wondered and you nodded.

“Yeah, you can,” Yoongi said as he brought over her bowl of oatmeal and set it in front of her. “Be careful, it’s still hot baby girl.”

“You could stay with grandma and grandpa,” you said, referring to your parents. “Or with your grammy and papa,” you finished, referring to Yoongi’s parents and Kinsley tilted her head to the side as she thought about it for a few seconds.

“Can I stay with god mommy?” Kinsley asked, referring to your best friend and you raised your eyebrows in surprise.

“Is that who you would want to go with?” You checked and she nodded her head.

“I’m sure she’d love to have you over,” Yoongi smiled. 

“Are you gonna be gone for a long time when sissy comes?” Kinsley wondered and you shook your head.

“Only for a few days,” you assured her. “Not too long.”

“Ok,” Kinsley nodded before grabbing her spoon and starting in on her oatmeal, while you and Yoongi watched her fondly.

Kim Namjoon

“No Mason!” You heard Namjoon shout as you walked through the front door of your house, fresh off from work. After you took off your shoes and set your things down, you walked up the stairs and followed the sounds of both your husband’s and your son’s voices, eventually finding them both in your daughter’s nursery.

“What is going on in here?” You laughed in disbelief as you took in the scene in front of you. Both Namjoon and Mason were covered in yellow paint, with paintbrushes in their hands and shocked expressions on their faces from seeing you.

“Jagi, you’re home early,” Namjoon chuckled awkwardly and you nodded with a smirk. 

“Yeah, you know that today was my last day before maternity leave so my boss decided to let me go early,” you explained. “What are you two up to?”

“We painted Maia’s room!” Mason spoke up and you laughed as you nodded your head and looked around the room. 

“I see that,” you giggled.

“It was supposed to be a surprise,” Namjoon added. “I know that you’ve been a little stressed out that we hadn’t finished her room yet and I decided to get a jump on it so that you wouldn’t have to worry about it during your maternity leave.”

“Joon,” you smiled, blinking your eyes rapidly as you felt your eyes becoming blurry.

“Is that bad crying or good crying?” Mason wondered as he looked up at his father.

“I think it’s the good crying,” Namjoon replied and you nodded quickly in confirmation. 

“I really appreciate it,” you smiled. “I’d hug you two, but I don’t want paint on me.”

“Can I get a hug if I take a bath?” Mason asked and you nodded your head.

“Absolutely.”

“Alright jagi, I don’t mean to kick you out or anything but I don’t want these paint fumes affecting you or the baby,” Namjoon said. “So shoo.”

“Ok, ok,” you relented, holding up your hands in mock surrender. “Come find me when you two are finished.” You then turned around and walked down the hallway to your bedroom, grateful to have such an amazing husband and son. 

Jung Hoseok

“Mommy, why do you have a baby doll?” Berkeley asked as you walked into the living room, a small plastic baby doll cradled in your arms. Berkeley, Lennox, and Hobi were all sat on the couch together and you walked over to join them. 

“Well, you know how Daddy and I told you guys that we were gonna teach you how to hold a baby?” You said as you sat down next to her and she nodded. “That’s what it’s for.”

“But it’s not real,” Lennox pouted and Hobi chuckled.

“It’s just for practice so it’s ok that it’s not real,” Hobi told him. You handed the doll off to Berkeley, who immediately hugged it to her chest. 

“Like this Mommy?” She wondered and you shook your head before gently taking the doll and positioning it so that she was holding it correctly, supporting it’s head and body.

“Like that,” you smiled. 

“Here, let Lenny try,” Hobi spoke up and Berkeley extended the doll to Lennox, who grabbed it by it’s arm and took it from his sister.

“You can’t be that rough with Hendrix kiddo,” you corrected him. “He’ll be really little so we’re gonna have to be really gentle and careful with him.”

“Oh ok,” Lennox nodded and Hobi helped him position his arms correctly. 

“How does it feel buddy?” He asked Lennox.

“Feels weird,” Lennox replied honestly and you giggled. 

“It does but you’ll get used to it,” you responded. 

“Is Hendrix really gonna be little, like the doll?” Berkeley questioned. 

“Probably,” Hobi nodded. You looked towards Lennox, who was still holding the doll and you were shocked when he suddenly lent down and kissed the doll’s nose.

“Was that soft enough Mommy?” Lennox wondered and you nodded your head, your eyes becoming wet with tears.

“That was perfect Len.”

Park Jimin

“I feel fucking huge, my feet are swollen, and my cheeks are so puffy, I can barely see out of my eyes,” you complained as you stood in front of Jimin, who was posing behind you with his hands on top of your bump while Jungkook got his camera ready. 

“I know baby, but you were the one who said that you wanted some professional grade photos of your bump before you went into labor,” Jimin pointed out.

“I know what I said and I only said it because we took some with Noah and I didn’t want to not have any with this baby,” you explained. “But I also under anticipated how much I was going to feel like shit.”

“Well, you might not feel that great but you look amazing,” he whispered into your ear, running his hands over the fabric of the form-fitting green dress that you had on. 

“Oh, you’re such a good husband, lying to me like that,” you laughed as you looked over your shoulder and up at him. “I appreciate it, really.”

“Yeah, except I’m not lying,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to the spot right below your ear and you couldn’t help the smile that crept onto your face.

“I’m sorry if I’m a little cynical these days,” you apologized. “I’m just so ready to meet them and be done being pregnant.”

“You mean done being pregnant ‘for now’, right?” Jimin checked in.

“For now,” you assured him with a nod. 

“But I don’t mind it because I know it’s especially hard for you at this point in your pregnancy,” Jimin said. “But you just have to keep in mind that it’ll all be worth it.”

“I know it will,” you smiled. “I can’t wait to see what gender they are and what they’ll look like.”

“Hopefully like me, just like Noah does,” Jimin chuckled. 

“Oh, if this one looks like you too, I’m never giving you another baby,” you teased, squealing lightly when Jimin softly bit the lobe of your ear. Just then, you saw a camera flash go off and both you and Jimin looked over at Jungkook, who was lowering his camera down from his face and smiling his large bunny smile.

“You both said that you wanted candid shots,” he shrugged, making you and Jimin both laugh loudly. 

Kim Taehyung

“You got it Spence?” You checked as you watched Spencer drag the laundry basket behind her as the two of you walked down the hallway to your and Taehyung’s bedroom.

“Got it Mommy,” she nodded with a grunt and you had to bite your lip in order not to laugh out loud. For the past few days, Spencer had been like your super helper, offering to carrying things or get things for you so that you wouldn’t have to be bothered with getting up. You had a sneaking suspicion that Taehyung had talked to her about how her little brother was coming soon and about how you needed to rest, but you decided not to ask because it was so sweet to watch how eager Spencer was to help you out. 

“Here, I’ll put it up onto the bed for you,” you told her after the two of you had made it into your bedroom. You bent down and picked up the basket, lifting it up and setting it on top of the bed while Spencer busied herself with climbing up onto the bed.

“Ready to fold Elijah’s stuff?” You asked her as you overturned the basket, letting all of the onesies, t-shirts, pants, bibs, and blankets fall out and onto the bed spread. She nodded happily and you watched as she picked up a blanket and started to fold it.

“How much longer until he comes out?” Spencer asked and you shrugged as you picked up a onesie to fold.

“We’re not exactly sure. Now that he’s been in my belly for a while, he could come at any time,” you told her. 

“Even at night?” She wondered in awe and you laughed at her facial expression before nodding.

“If that’s when he decides that he’s ready, then yep.”

“When did I come?” She questioned and you smiled as you remembered the day that you went into labor with her.

“Well, it was early in the morning when I figured out that you were ready to come out,” you said as you finished folding the onesie before moving on to a few of Elijah’s t-shirts. “I was cleaning the kitchen and Daddy was telling me that I should rest because you were gonna be coming soon but I didn’t listen to him.”

“Daddy said that you have to rest with Elijah too,” Spencer murmured as she focused on folding a bib and you smirked at how she unknowingly confirmed your earlier suspicions

“Yeah well, I felt that you were ready to come out and you were born at 4:38pm,” you smiled.

“On August 17th,” she added and you nodded with a smile. “Is Elijah really gonna wear all of these clothes?”

“Yeah, because babies pee, and poop, and throw up on themselves a lot,” you told her. “So there’s gonna be a lot of laundry to do once he gets here.”

“I’ll help you Mommy,” she chirped and you smiled before leaning over and kissing her cheek.

“I know Spence, because you’re the best helper,” you told you and she looked up at you with her wide boxy smile. 

Jeon Jungkook

“Why do you have to have such a big bag Mommy?” Ava wondered as she sat on the bed in your and Jungkook’s bedroom, watching as the two of you packed your hospital bag.

“Well, because once we get to the hospital, Aria could take a while to come out so we might be there for a while,” you told her.

“And Mommy and Aria will have stay in the hospital for a few days after she comes too,” Jungkook added.

“For a long time?” Ava asked softly and you could hear the worry in her voice so you looked up and shook your head while giving her a small smile.

“Not long at all,” you promised her. “Just long enough for them to make sure that me and Aria are ok.”

“Ohh,” Ava drawled out as she nodded her head. “And then she can come home?”

“And then she can come home,” Jungkook chuckled. “You’re gonna get to come see her in the hospital after she gets here too, though.”

“Really?” She asked in awe.

“Of course,” you nodded as you sat down on the bed next to her. “I can’t go too long without my kisses and cuddles from my Ava,” you smiled as you leaned over and blew raspberries against her cheek, which made her squeal loudly. 

“Are you ready to meet your sister Angel?” Jungkook asked as he sat down on the other side of Ava.

“Yeah,” she nodded. “She can wear the dress that we got her!”

“It’ll be a little while before she can fit it though Ave,” you said with a laugh and Ava immediately pouted. 

“Oh. Can I still be your helper?” She asked hopefully and both you and Jungkook nodded your heads.

“Of course,” Jungkook told her. “And I think Aria will like her big sister taking care of her,” he added, which made Ava grin widely and you smiled at how great he was with her and you couldn’t wait to see him with another daughter. 

[let-it-raines]

What a Wicked Game {13/15}

Killian met her in a pub on a rainy night in March. Going inside was only supposed to be a way for him to avoid the rain and fight off the demons in his head. It was a place for him to pass through, not stay. But then he was charmed by a blonde woman with a quick wit who had absolutely no interest in him or who he was.

That was a first. It was also the beginning of Emma Nolan helping to bring him back to life. It was the beginning of everything.

Five years later, with their worlds crumbling around them, Killian can’t help but wonder if this is the end of the peace they have known now that his family knows about his relationship. It wouldn’t be a problem if his father wasn’t the King of England.

rating: mature

a/n: thanks to @captainswanbigbang​ for making this possible, to @resident-of-storybrooke​ for being the best cheerleader/proofreader, and to @captainsjedi​ for making me beautiful artwork and also being a wonderful cheerleader!

This is the last *official* chapter. The next two are epilogues to honor the original story and it’s epic crazy epilogue. 💕

ao3: beginning | current

tumblr: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 

-/-

November 10th, 2018

Elsa gives birth to a girl.

It happens quickly, a quarter past five on the morning on November tenth, and the text wakes Killian from his slumber to find a picture of Elsa holding a small, red-faced child named Elizabeth.

Princess Elizabeth Amelia Zara Jones.

Lizzie.

“She’s beautiful,” Emma whispers over Alex’s head as his small limbs kick into Killian’s stomach like they’ve been doing since he was dropped off last night by frenzied parents.

“She looks demonic right now.”

“Stop,” Emma hisses with a roll of her eyes. “All babies are the most gorgeous creatures on the planet. You’re not supposed to point out that they can look demonic and be unattractive.”

“If it’s not my child and I’m not saying it to the parents, I can say whatever the hell I want.”

“And if it is your child?”

Killian reaches his hand over to tug on Emma’s waist, pulling her closer to him so that her freezing feet tuck between his calves and they won’t wake Alex with their whispering. “Now, Swan, we’ve talked about this. We’re just practicing with our naked sleepovers. No babies are going to be involved.”

“I hate you.”

“You love me.”

“Not right now,” Emma huffs, but he can see her smile. “Can you believe Elsa and Liam have another baby?”

“Aye. Known it would be happening for awhile now. Elsa’s ever burgeoning stomach gave me a few clues.”

If she didn’t have a toddler between the two of them, he knows that she’d slap his shoulder over his cheekiness and maybe a little bit to get back at him for accidentally slapping her earlier. Instead she reaches across Alex and cups Killian’s cheek, thumb running across the bone.

“Do you remember the night you told me Elsa was pregnant again?”

He does. He remembers how distraught he was over thoughts of this child growing up in the same way he had. He’d shown up at the pub a complete mess and tried to get Emma into bed instead of talking through what was bothering him. But she’d known him so well, knows him so well, and made him talk about what was bothering him instead of drowning himself in her and in alcohol.

That was only six months ago, and his world has flipped on its head several times since. It’s so much that he barely knows what to do with any of it. Really, all he knows is that he’ll never have to worry about Liam treating Lizzie in a different way than how he treats Alex. Brennan will never understand or realize how awful he is and how backward his mindset can be, but that won’t truly matter. Not when Alex and Lizzie have incredible parents who aren’t going to fall into the trap that this family seems to keep falling for.

Not when they’re going to change everything about this family so that future generations will never go through what they’ve been through.

Emma. All of this is because of Emma.

She’s changed his world.

(And is changing a monarchy.)

“Yes,” Killian whispers back to her.

“So much has changed since then. Everything really. You and your family are an actual family, babe. A family with issues and that one awful relative that we’ll pretend doesn’t exist, but there’s also so much love. It’s amazing.”

“It’s all because of you, Emma.”

She laughs, so quiet so as not to disturb Alex in this hushed conversation, and he knows she’s going to brush it all off.

“I mean, I was at the root of some knock down drag out fights, so I wouldn’t say that.”

“I would.”

“Killian, if the relationship you have with Liam is better, that’s all you. You fought for what you deserved, no matter how hard it was, and I’d like to think that you’ve got a winning strategy.”

Except for with his father…

But no matter, this woman next to him with red pillow crease lines on her cheeks and tangles in his hair continues to change his life, and if it wasn’t for Alex between them and the day he knows he has ahead of him, Killian would get the engagement ring out of his shoe in the closet and ask her to marry him right now.

Having that ring made while they were broken up was the most idiotic idea, but he thinks much like Emma and her lightning bolt tattoo, a part of him knew that it would all be okay.

Best stupid decision he’s ever made.

“I love you. I think I might love you too much”

And it’s true. As sentimental and slightly vomit-inducing as it might be to some, he does love her so much that his chest pangs.

He loves her not simply because she is beautiful and a light in his life who makes him laugh even when he doesn’t know how anymore. He loves her for the way that she enjoys watching stand-up comedy even when it’s bad and stops her runs to dance along to the music playing through her speakers. He loves that she is kind to others and compassionate about those who she cares for, and he loves the energy she brings to her own life. He loves her not for what she does for him but for who she is. She’s Emma, a mess of good and bad qualities.

She’s brilliant in a multitude of ways.

And she’s here and not going anywhere. He’s not going anywhere either. It’s a constant reminder between the two of them, something they both need to hear, but Killian knows deep in his belly that they’re not going to go through another separation again.

Will they have other shit to deal with? Of course. But they’re doing it together.

“Not possible,” Emma murmurs before kissing his nose. “I love you, too. I’m glad you won’t call our babies ugly even if you think they are.”

Killian laughs loud enough this time that Alex stirs between them and groggily opens his blue eyes, looking between he and Emma. He stretches his arms above his head and kicks Killian’s stomach before turning into Emma and wrapping himself into Emma like the little traitor he is.

“Emmy,” he giggles, pressing wet kisses over Emma’s face. “Emmy is here.”

“Yeah, buddy, I am. How do you feel about going to take a bath? You and Killian need one before we go visit your new sister.”

“Noooo.”

“Yes,” Emma confirms, squeezing onto Alex and scrunching up her nose. “Especially Killian. He’s smelly.”

“Oi,” Killian scoffs. Every kind thought he had about this woman has disappeared in that exact moment, but he can’t wipe the smile off his face. It’s been a good morning. A good few weeks really. “I’ll have you know I bathe quite frequently thank you very much.”

“Then you’ll have no problem taking a bath right now.”

-/-

Emma is visibly nervous when they arrive at the hospital and are surrounded by people, fans and photographers alike. Her leg tapping up and down is shaking the entire car, but she doesn’t say anything in protest to getting out. When he asks if she wants to stay inside, she shakes her head and turns in the backseat to unbuckle Alex from his car seat before exiting the car to a loud clamor of voices.

The press have a field day seeing Alex walking into the hospital holding Emma’s hand, all of them calling out questions and trying to get Alex to pose or wave for the cameras. When Emma picks him up, resting him on her hip and telling him to wave, he happily complies as long as Emma waves with him.

Good. That’s a good start.

As they’re nearing the stairs a photographer yells out, “Emma, why is Prince Alexander walking with you and not Killian?”

Killian thinks Emma won’t answer. Her relationship with the press is abysmal as best. It was like that before the accident, but ever since, she’s hated them even more. He has too. All of the ones here today may be here to celebrate the birth of a new member of his family and may not mean any harm, but it’s easy to clump them all into one category.

They could have killed the woman he loves all over a picture, and Killian will never forgive anyone for that – not the press, not August Booth, no matter any of their motivations. If the three of them were able to go inside today in a different entrance, there would be no question as to how they would enter the hospital. At least no one is asking about the bloody breakup. That’s been a constant topic every time he’s stepped out into public lately.

Small wins and all.

“To tell you the truth,” Emma begins, shifting Alex on her hip. She’s talking to the people, the ones who aren’t holding professional cameras and microphones, and that makes a bit more sense to Killian. “Alexander here is always telling me that he loves his Emmy more than he loves his Uncle Killian because I know where we keep the good cookies…I mean, biscuits. Still getting used to the change in vernacular no matter how long I’ve lived here. That one will always throw me off.”

“Biscuits,” Alex joins in, raising his hands in the air and then rubbing his belly, causing the reporters and the crowd to roar in their laughter.

“Killian can’t give them to him because we hide the biscuits from him. He’s got a bit of a sweet tooth, you know.”

“Well, that’s why I love you, darling,” Killian teases. “Because you’re so sweet.”

“He’s also apparently got a thing for cheese,” she tells the crowd, throwing a wink at him. And he should have known that she would tease him when given the opportunity. Her heart has to be hammering in her discomfort, but she’s trying her best to be a part of his world.

There are parts of him that are still so fucking livid that he doesn’t know how to function seeing the flashes and hearing the clicks of the cameras, but he knows that he can’t do anything about it. At least not now. Right now all he has to worry about is making sure that Emma and Alex are safe.

Killian leans down to give her a quick peck, making Alex cover his eyes with his hands like he does nearly every time, and he can hear the laughter mixed in with the clicks of the shutters on the cameras. Some will be mad that Emma came with him to the hospital, but those without a stick up their ass will see the moment as a simple every day, family moment. He doesn’t care what anyone thinks, and if they have something to say, every press privilege for an official will be revoked in the snap of his fingers. He’s glad she’s here. Always.

After making a few more pleasantries and waving goodbye, the three of them are ushered inside by Graham, who is almost scarily professional while working. The man is an old friend and Ruby’s boyfriend, but no one would ever know that for the job he does.

Good.

They can be mates at dinner or when he’s off duty. For now, Killian wants the assured protection for his loved ones.

“My boy,” Liam greets once they’re in the maternity ward and away from most prying eyes. “I have missed you.”

“Papa,” Alex squeals, squirming out of Emma’s arms to run to his dad and be swooped up into his arms for a bracing hug. “Emmy gave me biscuit.”

“For breakfast? That’s nutritional.”

Emma huffs and crosses her arms over her chest even as Liam walks toward her and brushes his lips over her cheek. “He had oatmeal for breakfast. We just happened to be talking about biscuits outside. How’s Elsa?”

“Tired, happy, wonderful,” Liam laughs with genuine joy, eyes reddened from lack of sleep and tears of joy. “She just woke up from a nap to feed Lizzie, and I know she’s chuffed to see you all.” Liam turns his attention to Alex now. “Are you ready to meet your new sister?”

“She’s here?” Alex gasps. “Not in tummy?”

Killian chuckles and shakes his head. They went over this on the ride here and this morning, but the concept might be too big for a toddler to understand.

“She’s here, Alex, and I know that Mummy is ready to see you again. She’s missed you.”

Liam starts to walk away, Killian walking with him, but then he notices that Emma hasn’t moved from her spot, and Killian makes some half-assed excuse about letting Liam take Alex to see the lad first and that they’ll join them later.

“Hey,” he says to Emma, cocking his head to the side, “what are you doing? Don’t you want to go see Elsa and Lizzie?”

“I just...I need a moment.”

Killian arches a brow, but she doesn’t see it. Instead, she closes her eyes and leans back against the wall, her chest visibly heaving.

“Tomorrow or in a few hours or at some point in time,” Emma whispers, eyes still closed, “Elsa is going to walk out that door in heels and a pretty dress with a newborn in her arms and be photographed within an inch of her life. She’s still going to be wearing a damn diaper under a five-thousand-dollar dress, and I...I…shit. The people don’t scare me, but the press does. I flinch at the sounds of the cameras, am constantly worried that someone else is going to chase me or want something from me and I - ”

Emma opens her eyes, the green watery. He’s got no idea what’s happening, and he feels like he should.

He knew she was nervous when they were in the car, that it was a big deal for her to come with them today, but he foolishly thought she’d made it through the experience unscathed.

“I know that it’s an adjustment,” she continues, “and I’m only just learning, but I...if we have kids, I don’t want them on display like that. I don’t want myself on display. I don’t want to disrespect your customs and traditions, but I also want to respect myself and our kids. They shouldn’t have to be terrified of the click of a camera like I am right now.”

“Emma - ”

“I’m fine,” she sniffles, wiping her eyes. “I really am. That was just a lot outside, and I’m tired and I wanted to let you know how I’m feeling because that’s something we’re working on. I - ”

Killian steps forward and tucks her hair behind her ears, swiping his thumb across her cheeks to wipe away the little flecks of mascara. “It’s a process, my love, and if you think I’m not still fucking angry over what happened to you, you’re wrong. I’m livid. It’s not going to be something either of us get over in a blink of an eye or possibly ever, but I will do everything in my power to protect you and these hypothetical children and dogs or cats or even lizards.”

“Lizards?”

“They’ll get their own security guard too.” Emma laughs and leans forward into him until her face is buried in his shoulder. “I’d go to the end of the world for you. Every damn day.”

“That’s dramatic.”

“I try.” Killian rubs his hand over her back and kisses the side of her head. “Thank you for sharing what was going through that head of yours.”

“Thank you for not making me feel like I’m crazy.”

“I’ve given you a pass on that for today.” Emma huffs into his shoulder, and he kisses her hair again. “Are you ready to go into the hospital room now or do you need more time?”

“I think I can handle going to see that ugly baby you were talking about earlier.”

“Please don’t tell them I said that. I did not call Lizzie ugly.”

“It was implied.”

Emma gasps when Killian lightly taps her ass, but he doesn’t get to see the look on her face since he’s quickly walking ahead of her toward Elsa’s hospital room. She catches up, slapping his shoulder before hooking her arm around his and holding onto his elbow.

When they walk into the hospital room, Elsa is sitting in the bed wrapped up in a robe with her hair in a bun, and she’s holding both Lizzie and Alex while Liam sits at the edge and quietly talks to all of them. Killian feels like they’re intruding on a moment, like this isn’t meant for him and Emma.

His brother is a good but broken man, and Killian is happy for him. For all of them.

“They look so happy,” Emma whispers in his ear before placing her head on his shoulder.

“Aye,” he agrees. “I think they are.”

“Would either of you like to hold her?” Elsa asks them, waving them into the room even though Killian thinks they might need to slink away to give them privacy.

“Can I?” Emma asks, voice small as if she wasn’t just directly asked.

“Of course you can,” Elsa answers, motioning for Emma to come closer. She carefully hands Elizabeth over to Emma, the both of them cradling Lizzie’s head. “She’s wavering in and out of sleep.”

“Oh, she’s so beautiful, Elsa,” Emma compliments, running her finger over the covered swaddle of Elizabeth, before tacking on, “and Liam. I guess you possibly had something to do with this, though I think she’s likely to get all of her good looks from other members of the family.”

Liam laughs, actually laughs at Emma’s tease, white teeth flashing in an exuberant smile that Killian has rarely seen in his life.

Well, he’s seen it lately. A lot actually. But he’s not accustomed to any of this yet.

His brother is his friend and is capable of joking with Emma. It’s pretty much some kind of miracle even if he knows it’s through a hell of a lot of hard work and tough conversations.

If he looks back too quickly, Killian will get whiplash.

“I think that sounds about right,” Liam chuckles, moving over to stand next to Killian and throwing his arm over Killian’s shoulder. “You best hope your children get their looks from you and not this one here.”

Emma’s face flushes red, but she doesn’t say anything back, just shoots Killian a timid smile and mouths “he’s right” to Killian. She throws in a wink just for extra emphasis. Killian is hit with a sense of want – want to have children, want to have those children with Emma, and want for those children to look just like her – that he has to stifle, just winking right back in response.

They’re not ready. They can talk all about future plans and wants for that time, but they’re not ready. They’re still so young, and they have all of the time in the world to figure things out. They’ve just gotten back, and he doesn’t want to rush anything.

But it’s undeniable how incredibly, stupidly jealous he feels of Liam for getting all of this.

Is it possible to be genuinely thrilled for someone and jealous all the same?

Elizabeth starts fussing in Emma’s arm, a slow cry that’s only going to get bigger, and he watches Emma hand the baby back to Elsa and sit down on the bed to talk to Alex, who is absolutely enraptured with his sister. Killian wonders just how long that’s going to last before Alex is absolutely cross with all of the attention Lizzie will be getting.

“She’s doing so well,” Liam says suddenly, arm falling from Killian’s shoulder.

“Elsa? Yeah, she seems to be doing great, the tough lass she is. I’ve never quite understood how women are able to give birth.”

Liam just chuckles, shaking his head. “Brother, when a man loves a woman - ”

Killian gently slaps his brother’s shoulder. “You know what I mean.”

“Aye, I do. I can’t quite understand it myself. I think they might be magical. And Elsa is incredible, bloody amazing really. I’m forever in awe of her. It’s just that I was talking about Emma. It takes a strong woman to stay with the two of us despite our lives, and we’ve found some of the good ones. I’m sorry for everything before. I can’t say that enough.”

Killian doesn’t know what to say, doesn’t know how to deal with hearing everything he’s ever wanted to hear from his brother yet again, so he redirects the conversation. “So a little lass, huh?”

“I’m already out of my league.”

“You’ve been batting out of your league for your entire life, brother.”

Liam barks out another laugh. “Was that a baseball term? Have you ever seen a baseball game?”

“I’m dating an American whose father is obsessed with baseball, so I think you can fill in the blanks.”

Killian doesn’t want to intrude on Liam and Elsa, knowing just how exhausted Elsa has to be and how special this time is, but then Liam is asking if Killian and Emma would like to stay with her while he takes Alex home to be with his nanny and to keep his schedule from deviating too much. They insist that they can watch him for the day, but Liam and Elsa both would rather him be home and don’t want to burden the two of them.

It’s not a burden at all.

But that’s how Killian ends up holding Lizzie as she sleeps, little sputtering noises escaping her lips. She doesn’t at all look like a little red demon now, and he was wrong to have said that earlier. He thinks they’ll be rather good mates.

“I think she likes you,” Emma whispers, trying not to wake Lizzie or Elsa.

“Well, I’ve been told that the hair all over my body makes me comfortable to sleep on.”

“Whoever said that is brilliant.”

“Aye, I think so.”

“Do you think we should put her in the bassinet?”

“I’m scared that if I move it’ll disturb her.”

“It won’t,” Elsa mumbles, still mostly asleep.

He and Emma both quietly snicker, and carefully, Killian stands from the couch and walks to the small rolling bassinet, placing Lizzie down. She doesn’t startle or wake up, and he takes it as a win.

“I’m going to go get some tea or coffee, love. Do you want something?”

“Coffee. See if you can charm a nurse to get you the good stuff instead of the ones at those stations outside.”

Killian winks. “I’ll try.”

When he walks outside the hospital room door, he nods his head in acknowledgment to Elsa’s security and his own, telling Graham that he’s going in search for coffee, and Graham directs him to a small coffee and tea station around the corner. It’s exactly the bitter stuff he didn’t want, but since he doesn’t see any nurses or doctors to charm into letting him use the good pots in their lounges, this will likely have to do.

He got so little sleep last night that he’ll take anything with caffeine to bring a little life back into his eyes and his body.

Just as Emma’s disposable cup is filling with bitter coffee he knows she won’t drink without copious amounts of creamer, there’s the sound of doors opening and the loud clatter of footsteps moving down the hall.

It’s his parents and their security.

Shit.

He didn’t think they’d come for a few more hours.

“Killian,” Allison blushes, her smile growing in size as she scurries through the hallway to embrace him, her frame so small in his. “I didn’t know you were here.”

“Aye, Emma and I brought Alexander to see his sister and mum a few hours ago and have been keeping Elsa company while Liam takes Alex home.”

“Well, that is a wonderful surprise. We knew Alex and Liam had gone home for a bit, but I didn’t know you were here. I can’t wait to see my new grandchild.”

Killian pats his mum’s back before pulling back and kissing her cheek. “She can’t wait to see you. Why don’t you go on to the room? I want to speak to Dad for a moment.” Allison raises her brows. “I’ll be fine. Go meet your new granddaughter.”

Allison nods and steps away from him, and Brennan begins to do the same until Killian places his hand on his chest and keeps him from walking down the hallway.

“Do you need something?”

Killian swallows and sets his shoulders back before directly looking in his father’s eyes, ones he’s never seen show kindness to him, ones he doesn’t expect to.

At this point, he doesn’t want that. He doesn’t need that. He’s not looking for the approval of this man.

“I’m going to say this one last time,” Killian begins, clenching his jaw to keep himself as steady as possible, “and if you don’t listen, I will go through with every word  I’ve ever said about exposing you and ruining that pretty image you like to keep up.”

Brennan’s jaw clenches, but his age shows on his face instead of his anger. “You’re my son. I don’t have to listen to you.”

“There are hundreds of people out there, each of them with a camera on their phone. That doesn’t even take into account the news outlets. In less than two minutes, I can ruin you. Do you understand that?”

Brennan blinks and looks away before turning back to face Killian, no emotion on his face. It must be from years of practicing or possibly years of uncaring. “Go on then.”

“I’m marrying Emma. I don’t know when, but I am. When that time comes, you will sign every necessary piece of paper and approve every detail of the wedding. You will lie and say that you’re happy for me because it’s good for your image, and you will not fight with us behind the scenes. You don’t have to like me or Emma, but you will not continue to cut her down. I won’t let you, Liam won’t let you, and I can guarantee that Mum won’t have it anymore.”

“Anything else you’d like to command of me today or are you done asking for things I don’t have to grant you?”

Bastard.

His father is a bastard, but Killian is in this now. He’s not backing out now.

He’s not losing Emma again.

“Emma will get a full team of security protection under your personal pay until we’re married and she can legally have the same arrangements as the rest of us, you’ll agree to cut off any press from official events if they try to slander or attack her again, and you will release statements to have her protected so she doesn’t almost fucking die again. She could have died because people wanted a picture of her, and I will not stand for that again. These aren’t negotiations. These are demands. Any kind of protection Elsa has, Emma will have as well, whether we’re married or not.”

“How do you - ”

“No negotiations,” Killian repeats, refusing to back away from his father. “I’m happy to help set all of this in motion for you if you need me to. I’ve been working on a few things. I’ll send them to your office tomorrow.”

When Brennan doesn’t say anything and doesn’t move from his sport, Killian raises his brows and inches closer. “Do you understand? Stepping out of line will have repercussions for you, and threatening me will do you no good. I’m willing to step away from the cushions of this life. I’m not dependent on the coin purse and the good publicity. You are.”

“None of this is going to be pretty for you. The public will continue to despise her and think that everything she does is wrong. Every misstep will be magnified, and your popularity will plummet.”

Killian scoffs and shakes his head. This man is never going to get it. “The beauty of the whole thing is that I don’t fucking care about any of that. I am going to choose Emma every time. I’ve never loved this lifestyle or craved the approval of the press like you. I’ve never wanted any of this. I respect the history of our family, and I can guarantee that Emma and I will do our best to honor that. However, we’re forging our own path with our own family, and if I end up having to leave this family later for Emma’s well-being, there won’t be a second thought to it. Now go greet your new granddaughter. I hope she never has to know what a bastard you are.”

Brennan nods his head before quickly stepping away and storming down the hallway, the swinging doors quickly closing behind him with his security following after him. Killian needs a moment to breathe, to calm himself, because there’s a pretty good chance he could vomit right now.

That has to work.

That has to be the final time. That has to be the nail in the coffin and the thing that gets them moving forward. He can’t move backwards. He can’t.

They can’t.

Moving forward and moving on to something real and concrete is what he needs, what Emma needs too, and that has to work. Getting knocked down on his ass again isn’t an option.

Emma getting hurt again isn’t an option.

May his father have one modicum of decency. Or really, may he be so damn scared of losing public favor that he complies. That’s Killian’s ace up his sleeve, and God, he hopes it works.

(It’s going to.)

“You having trouble working the coffee machine?”

Killian huffs and turns his head to look down the hallway to see Emma walking toward him. “No, I think I’ve got it figured out, but I believe the coffee I made for you may be cold by now.”

“Guess you’ll have to make me a new one then.”

“Guess I will.” Killian opens his arms, and Emma walks right into them until she’s nuzzled into his chest and his chin is resting on her head. “Did you see my Father?”

“I did.”

“Did he speak to you?”

“There was a slight nod.”

“Of course,” Killian scoffs, rubbing his hands up and down her back as she does the same to him. “I just gave him an ultimatum, finally, and God, Emma, I hope that it works.”

“Me too. We’re going to be okay. I don’t know how, exactly...I just know, okay?”

“Yeah,” he whispers, kissing the top of her head, I know that too.”

They only linger in the hallways long enough to fix one new cup of coffee before a nurse rounds the corner and offers to take them to the lounge where they have the good coffee and tea. He didn’t even have to charm someone to get the stuff that wasn’t going to be acid in his stomach, and he’s thankful for small miracles.

He’s also thankful for Emma. She has every right to be angry or closed off or even nervous as hell when they go back to the hospital room where his parents are. She’s not making some herculean effort to make conversation with his dad, but she’s also not letting him push her into a corner where she can’t enjoy being around people she loves.

Killian’s been learning to do that his entire life. Emma has nearly perfected it in a few months.

Emma nudges his shoulder, and he looks down to see a napkin in his lap. God, he’s missed passing napkin scribblings back and forth with each other. He’s got a box full of them somewhere in his apartment.

Your mom has been looking over at us with “please fuck and give me grandchildren” eyes for the past ten minutes.

He snickers and leans in to whisper in Emma’s ear. “I’m sure there’s somewhere around her where we could get that done.”

“That’s disgusting.”

“You’re the one who said my mum was thinking about us fucking.” Killian brushes his lips over the shell of Emma’s ear, flicking his tongue so that goosebumps rise over her skin. “Would you like to go home now?”

“I would.”

Killian tucks the napkin in his back pocket and stands from the couch, holding his hand out to Emma behind him. They say their goodbyes, both of them kissing Elsa’s cheeks and running their finger over Lizzie’s stomach, before telling his mum not to hog the baby for too long. It takes far longer than it should for them to take their leave, but eventually they’re walking back to the entrance of the hospital with Graham in front of them.

“Every time this door opens for the next two days, all of these people are going to think it’s Elsa stepping out. There’s going to be shouting and photographers. Can you handle that?”

“I know,” Emma tells him. “And I can.”

Emma threads her fingers between his, her palm as warm and soft as always, Killian sucks in a deep breath, and he hears Emma do the same. “You ready to go, my love?”

She squeezes his hand, the tightness lingering a second too long, and answers, “I’m ready.”

-/-

-/-

@mrtinski​ @klynn-stormz​ @jonirobinson64​ @snowbellewells​ @therealstartraveller776​ @thejollyroger-writer​ @sherifemma​ @shardminds​ @captainsjedi​ @galaxyzxstark​ @galadriel26​ @idristardis​ @karenfrommisthaven​ @teamhook​ @spartanguard​ @searchingwardrobes​ @itsfabianadocarmo​ @owlways-and-forever​ @jamif​ @shireness-says​ @ultimiflos​ @nikkiemms​ @resident-of-storybrooke​ @onepunintendid​ @bluewildcatfanatic​ @397bartonstreet​ @killianswannn​ @carpedzem​ @captainkillianswanjones​ @mayquita​ @jennjenn615​ @onceuponaprincessworld​ @a-faekindagirl​ @scientificapricot​ @scarletslippers​ @xellewoods​ @ultraluckycatnd​ @stahlop​ @kmomof4​ @tiganasummertree​ @singersdd​ @captainswanbigbang​

[chierafied]

Challenge Accepted! (SKW2020D7)

For SessKag Week 2020 Day 7, I tried my luck with the SessKag Trope Generator and got "Sesshoumaru mistakes Kagome's Sass for Flirting" & "Sesshoumaru's mobile day care". This bit of silliness ensued.

Also posted on AO3, Dokuga & FFnet!

When, in the final year of high school, Kagome had needed to fill out forms for career counselling and to start seriously planning her future… This hadn’t made the list.

For one, she had not been sure back then if she ever could return back to the Feudal era. 

But even when she had been considering that unlikely (or so she had thought) scenario, she had pictured it all very differently.

She’d had daydreams of her and Inuyasha. Of a peaceful life in the village together with Miroku and Sango. Or maybe one of adventure, back on the road and roaming across the Sengoku era Japan.

Being covered in someone else’s bodily fluids and wrangling a hanyou toddler gearing himself up to a full-blown temper tantrum hadn’t featured into her expectations. 

Not even in those rosy imaginations of her and Inuyasha’s possible future children.

She really hadn’t had a clue back then, huh?

To begin with, the well had reopened, and Kagome had abandoned all the plans she had made for the future in a split-second decision to return to the past.

Secondly, she and Inuyasha, well… It turned out they were the best of friends, but any romantic notions Kagome had once harboured had died a fairly quick death when expectations and reality did not quite manage to meet.

And finally, somehow, she had ended up running an unofficial orphanage in Edo.

It had probably begun because Kagome had been giving lessons to Shippou and Rin, as well as Miroku’s and Sango’s children. 

She’d wanted to fill her days with something productive, but it turned out that growing up in the 20th century didn’t really give you all the skills and knowledge needed to fit into the life in the 16th century.

But the one thing that she did have that most people around her in the village lacked, was comprehensive education.

In hindsight, deciding to put her knowledge into a good use might have been a mistake, Kagome reflected, struggling to tie the obi around the screaming toddler. 

Another young hanyou, twin sister of the charming boy currently preoccupied with throwing his tantrum, tottered in on unsteady feet, then latched onto Kagome’s leg.

Literally.

Kagome winced.

“Momo-chan, sweetheart, please remember to be mindful of your claws,” she told the hanyou girl clinging to her leg.

The girl solemnly looked at where her tiny hands were resting on Kagome’s bare shin, and then carefully eased her hold.

Kagome let out a breath, and as little Mr Cranky Pants was all changed up, set the snarling and shrieking child down.

He kicked his tiny clawed feet against the floor in utter fury, and Kagome had a snapshot of understanding what Inuyasha might have been like as a child. 

She'd probably dodged a bullet there. Imagine her and Inuyasha's offspring, inheriting their temper from both parents!

Not a rosy picture at all, that.

In fact, it suddenly made Shinji-kun seem a veritable little angel.

Or perhaps that title should go to Momo-chan, Kagome amended, as the girl knelt down by her brother and stroked his hair.

Awwww!

Moments like these, Kagome thought, warmth swelling in her chest, were what made it all worthwhile.

But first things first, she really needed to change into a clean kosode herself and wash the baby puke out of her hair.

“Rin?” she called out, hoping the young woman would be free to look after the twins while Kagome made herself presentable again.

All right, so she might have exaggerated a little, earlier. It wasn’t really an unofficial orphanage, and Kagome wasn’t quite running it either.

They had six orphans altogether, and although Kaede, Rin and Kagome were the main caretakers for the children, the whole village pitched in to help where they could.

Even Shippou, who was always a very sought-after playmate whenever he came back to Edo.

Most of the children were human, only the young twins were hanyou. 

The three oldest children, each old enough to look after themselves, for the most part, lived with Kaede and Rin. The arrangement suited all of them, actually, because Kaede was not getting any younger, and the additional help around the house was a huge weight off of her and Rin’s shoulders.

Kagome, meanwhile, had had the dubious honour of looking after the hanyou twins.

The logic there had been that, as a miko, she was the best suited for the task, as most villagers would not be a match for a pair of half-demons, toddlers or not. And unlike Kaede, she was young enough to keep up with the pair.

Kagome, technically, was also taking care of the youngest child, hence the baby puke in her hair.

In practice, though, the infant boy spent a lot of time over at Sango’s and Miroku’s, as Sango had very kindly volunteered to be the little baby boy’s wet nurse.

Rin still had not showed up, but all of a sudden, Shinji-kun’s temper tantrum ended, and the snarling and shrieking stopped.

Ahh, blessed silence, was all that Kagome had time to think before a flare of youki from the edge of the village raised her hackles.

Oh no.

He was back.

And he only ever did that stupid flare thing when he wanted her attention.

And he only ever wanted her attention when…

“Oh god, not another one!” Kagome groaned out lout, exasperation seeping into her very bones.

It was all the miko’s fault.

Sesshoumaru did not know how, but it was the only logical conclusion he could draw.

For years, decades, well over a century, he had wandered far and wide, in perfect solitude. (Jaken didn’t count.) 

But somehow, right after his paths had first crossed with the miko, he had met Rin. 

Eventually, they’d been joined by Kohaku.

After their victory over Naraku, he had parted ways with the both of them and resumed his peaceful lone existence.

And alone he had remained (Jaken still didn’t count), for a blissful three years.

Then the miko had returned.

And once again, inexplicably, he had come across a human child who had insisted on following him.

Then there had been two others, banded together until they stumbled on Sesshoumaru.

Then a pair of young neglected hanyou.

Then he had come across a raided village and had heard the wail of a human infant from among the ruins, tucked away into a safe corner, probably by its now-deceased mother.

Since it was all miko’s fault, Sesshoumaru had decided the children should be her responsibility, not his.

It was a stroke of genius, even if he said it himself.

Like killing two birds with one claw.

From the very start, the miko had been a complete mystery to him.

Not the least because of the mixed signals she was always sending.

It had always been obvious there was some sort of… involvement between the miko and his younger half-brother. Sesshoumaru hadn’t known or hadn’t cared to know the exact nature of it.

Yet, throughout their very loose acquaintance, the miko had been challenging him.

Even upon their first meeting, when she had watched from the side lines while he and Inuyasha had battled over the mastery of Tessaiga in their father’s tomb, the miko had still managed to stand up to him, by yelling advice to Inuyasha.

Then, adding insult to injury, she had been the one to pull their father’s fang out.

At every turn, she had defied him and stood her ground, talked back to him, demanded explanations of him, called him names, never shown fear... Always ready to pitch her will against his.

The miko had shattered his armour with her arrow early on in their acquaintance, and if that hadn’t been a challenge, Sesshoumaru didn’t know what was! Especially when she had promptly fired another arrow at him afterwards! 

So now, at last – and once it had become clear whatever there was between Inuyasha and the miko did not exceed the bounds of friendship – Sesshoumaru had started to challenge her back.

Currently, his preferred method of doing so was depositing the orphans he collected at her doorstep.

And to the miko’s credit, she had risen to the challenge marvellously.

Speaking of…

Sesshoumaru slanted a glance over his shoulder, and at the human boy following after him beside Jaken.

“We are almost there,” he informed them, his voice even.

Soon enough, they could see Edo in the distance.

A small smile rose to Sesshoumaru’s lips.

He was looking forward to the next encounter, eager to see how the miko would respond this time.

Sesshoumaru gathered his youki around himself and then let it flare up, sending a signal to his miko.

He was coming to give her her next challenge.

After finally getting Rin to look after the twins, Kagome marched to the edge of the village, where she immediately assumed a confrontational pose – hands on her hips, blue eyes glaring at Sesshoumaru.

Her gaze flicked to the young boy nervously fidgeting next to Jaken. He was human and looked to be around ten years old.

Kagome swallowed a sigh and turned to the boy.

“Hello, sweetheart. Welcome to Edo, my name is Kagome. I’ll talk to you a little later; for now you’d probably like something to eat, right? Jaken, please take him to Kaede’s.”

The kappa sputtered, but despite the grumbling under his breath, obeyed, telling the boy to follow along as he tottered away.

As soon as the two had left, Kagome whirled back to Sesshoumaru.

“How does this keep happening?” she demanded to know. “Where do you find these children? Why do you keep on bringing them here? I can’t do this anymore Sesshoumaru, I swear! This has gone on long enough!” 

She was pushing into his personal space now, all but wagging her finger at his face in righteous fury.

“I agree,” Sesshoumaru intoned smoothly.

“I’m telling you,” Kagome growled. “...Wait, what?”

“You are correct, miko, that is time to bring this charade to an end. Entertaining though it has been, I suggest it is beyond time for us to formalise our relationship.”

And just like that, Kagome’s anger was gone. Vanished, together with any sense she’d previously had of this entire conversation.

What was the infuriating daiyoukai on about?

“What relationship?” Kagome asked, suddenly apprehensive.

“Do not act coy with me, miko,” Sesshoumaru said, his eyes hooded. “We have been going around these circles for years now.”

“What circles?” Kagome was growing both more alarmed and confused by the second.

“I have presented you with multiple challenges,” Sesshoumaru told her patiently, nodding towards Kaede’s hut. “You have risen to each one and proven yourself brilliantly.”

“Challenges?” Kagome glanced at Kaede’s hut, then her own, then at Sesshoumaru. “You’ve been bringing me children because you’ve wanted to challenge me? What the hell?!”

“In part. Mostly I brought them because of the inconvenience. Nevertheless, I figured you would not be averse to a challenge, now that you and Inuyasha are no longer… involved.”

Flabbergasted. That was the word. That was what Kagome was feeling. Her mind simply wasn’t keeping up with the complete lack of logic of Sesshoumaru’s conversation.

“What does Inuyasha have to do with this?” 

“You have been challenging me since the beginning of our acquaintance,” Sesshoumaru began.

I have? Kagome wondered, trying to think back to see what on Earth Sesshoumaru could be referring to.

Maybe the time she’d had an arrow ready and aimed at him and had shouted the next one would be for his heart?

She grimaced.

“But for the longest time I was not certain if I should respond in kind, especially as Inuyasha had a prior claim,” he continued.

What claim? No. Kagome shook her head. No matter how much the daiyoukai tried to explain, none of this was making any sense.

“However I have now responded to you in kind. And you have proven yourself to me, and I assume likewise my performance whenever you have challenged me has met your approval as well. Thus, I think it is time to stop playing these games and make it official.”

“Make what official, Sesshoumaru?” Kagome snapped losing patience. 

Feeling stupid also didn’t help her temper.

Sesshoumaru blinked, slowly.

“Our mating, of course.”

Kagome’s mouth fell open. No words came out.

She was pretty sure that hell had just frozen over.

Unless…! Maybe?

She pinched herself and hissed in pain.

Nope, still in the middle of this absurd conversation.

She probably should say something.

Ask Sesshoumaru if he had completely lost his damn mind, maybe.

Be firm.

“M-mating?” Kagome squeaked.

Way uncool, Kagome, she chided herself.

Her mind was furiously trying backtrack. Trying to find a previous save point from a time when the world had still made sense.

“Yes,” Sesshoumaru said, unhelpfully, plunging Kagome further into chaos.

“So what you mean by challenging is…?” Kagome asked, in a vain attempt to recover some sanity.

“A typical behaviour of a suitor. How do you know if the object of your interest is truly worthy of your affections if you do not challenge them to prove themselves to you?” Sesshoumaru said, finally sounding unsure of himself

Oh.

The light bulb finally clicked on.

Oh no.

Was Sesshoumaru telling her… That basically the entire time they had known one another… he had thought she’d been flirting with him?

Kagome stared at him in mute horror.

He’d been bringing her orphan children in some convoluted and misguided effort to flirt back?!

Oh god.

“I sense some reluctance from you.” Sesshoumaru frowned.

No shit!

Kagome tried to gather her brain from the floor and scramble it for some sort of sensible words she might offer to Sesshoumaru, but before she could find any, he continued.

“Perhaps I have not proven myself to you yet? Do you wish to issue one last challenge?”

“I… Umm…” were all that Kagome’s poor brain had left to offer.

Sesshoumaru nodded gravely. “Very well. I accept.”

With three quick steps, Sesshoumaru had closed their distance.

All of a sudden, Kagome had to crane her neck in order to meet his eyes.

There was a look there, glimmering in those golden depths, that unnerved her more than this entire disaster of an encounter had.

As he leaned forward, Kagome’s eyes widened, her heart jumped, her stomach plummeted, her breath caught.

And then he was kissing her and… wow.

Wow. 

Okay, maybe this crazy notion of his did have some merit if this was what he had to offer.

His hand had come up to cradle her head. His fingers tangled in her hair, his claws lightly scraped against her scalp.

Whoo, talk about toe-curling.

One eternity later, Sesshoumaru pulled away.

Kagome drew in a quivering breath, her heart beating a mad, giddy rhythm. 

Had he proven himself?

You bet.

Still dazed, she looked into his eyes, the slow beginning of a smile blooming on her lips.

And then Sesshoumaru spoke.

“Are you aware that someone appears to have vomited milk in your hair?”

Ahh, yes.

That.

That they would probably still need to work on.

“Yes, I am,” Kagome retorted. “That tends to happen around babies.”

“Noted,” Sesshoumaru replied, deadpan. “So, have I proven myself sufficiently?”

Kagome bit her lip and took a moment to consider.

“You have proven yourself,” she said slowly. “But I am not ready yet to make our mating official. I think it would be fair if we tried some human courting, first.”

Sesshoumaru tilted his head.

“I suppose that your customs should require equal opportunity,” he admitted, his voice considering. “I must confess, however, that I am woefully ignorant of the ways of human courting practices.”

Kagome gave him a rueful smile.

Just as ignorant as she’d been about youkai flirting, she’d bet. But still, going forward, it would be best to avoid any further confusion and miscommunication.

“Don’t worry,” Kagome told him, reaching to take his hand in hers. “I’ll tell you all about it.”