#// he was the storm that made her feel safe; she learned to love the lightning (rufus x liesel)

[southsidestory]

The Valley of the End: Ch 21 Sneak Peek

When Sasuke was four years old, a thunderstorm hit Konoha. He’d only seen rain, never lightning, and the bright, branching flashes outside his window terrified him. Father would be angry if he found out. Even as a little boy, Sasuke knew that much.

He also knew that his mother was the safest place in the whole, wide world (a small world, actually, but he didn’t understand that yet).

Sasuke woke her in the middle of the night with a silent tug on her nightgown sleeve. Father was out of town on some important Hokage business, so he didn’t have to worry about getting caught.

“What’s wrong?” she asked, her question blurred with sleep.

“The storm. It’s…” 

“Scary?” 

He nodded.

Sometimes when Father was away and Sasuke had a nightmare, she let him sleep in the big bed, but this time she said no. 

“Bad dreams can’t hurt you when you’re awake, but storms are real. When you’re scared of something real, you shouldn’t run from it. Running will only make you more afraid.”

That didn’t make sense to Sasuke, but she taught him in the best way he could learn: by taking him outside to see the storm.

A porch wrapped around the back half of their house like protective arms. That’s where she took him that night, where she picked him up and held him on her hip, telling stories about lightning and fire.

“You’re a son of the Uchiha,” she said. “This is who you are, Sasuke. Never fear that.”

He nodded, but the next jolt of lightning still made him flinch.

His mother hugged him tighter through the rolling thunder, then sat on the porch swing with him curled up in her lap.

“As long as I’m here, I’ll never let anything hurt you.”

That wasn’t true. She tried her best, but there was only so much a wife could do from within a cold-hearted Hokage’s shadow.

Maybe she hadn’t realized that on the night she held him in her arms, teaching him that not only was she the safest place in the world, she would shape his world to be safe for him. 

She killed his fear of storms that night. As rain played music on the roof and lightning burned the skies, Sasuke discovered a love for something as beautiful as it was deadly.

Looking back, that should have been a warning sign, a lesson in and of itself. When he feels loved enough, he can look past a pretty lie. He can trust for the sake of comfort, even if real danger is barely hidden overhead.

~ ~ ~

AN: I hope you enjoyed this sneak peek of Chapter 21! Fingers crossed that I'll have a full update to share soon.

[asonofsoddensoil]

So uh if anyone in the brave little toaster fandom finds this, hello, hope you enjoy my ramblings. The themes of these two works are just so fascinating and parallel in ways I find very interesting. This movie was my first fond memento mori in fiction and gave me a safe place to explore existential and societal fears early on in life. It gave me a more conscious appreciation for the horror genre with how gently yet seriously it nudged me towards facing my fears.

Also I refer to Toaster in this post as a she because if Toaster were human I'd headcanon her as a trans woman and the first two movies taking place during her egg phase. I also headcanon Lampy and Radio as trans, Blanky as genderfluid, and Kirby as occasionally gnc if he feels more relaxed. All of them are gnc to me by virtue of how many people with a difficult or heavily tested relationship with gender love this movie. Gender norms are very arbitrary yet are used to define people by function. So, while it's not as directly applicable to the characters as appliances, the ideas sprung up about identity and purpose overall bring up interesting questions about gender.

🍞 All those nightmares robbed Toaster of restful sleep for years. Toaster tried desperately to protect everyone and keep them all together, so afraid of being the spark that ignites their doom that she kept her distance from them. But watching the gears of the crushing machine turn, its image inverted against her reflective chrome, she felt for a moment that she fully knew this was what fate had in mind for her all this time.

🥀 Blanky was swept up into the trees, shroud in a darkness so deep that a strike of blindingly bright lightning barely even glowed there. It was horribly homesick and wished for someone to hold it tight, feeling as helpless as the child it once warded from monsters under the bed and in the closet. The wind threatened to blow it away at every moment, but it held on tight all through the night, clinging to the branches that tore and dirtied its fabric.

📻 Radio got so used to trouble at the cottage that he readily took on whatever role the situation called for when they left. Leading the charge or signing off for good, he always made sure to put on a good show to keep morale up. But who would put their life on the line to save the one who brought their butcher to them, he wondered...?

💡 Lampy surrendered to the storm in a rare moment of certainty, surviving though he knows now he very much shouldn't have. That night, he would have done anything to pierce the cruel, unyielding darkness, and lightning struck to provide him the way out of it. He learned to trust in himself and others, and from that night on he let compassion be his guiding light.

🧹 Kirby stood at the edge of a cliff, heart heavy with regret for being too weak to hold on tight enough to keep them from falling, for being so closed off, for the last things he said to them, for the last thing he said to him. He's so distant up here that his friends disappear into the mist below. Choking down his fear, he steadies himself and takes a leap of faith.

List of episodes I associate with the main 5 and other important characters directly below the cut. Then there's a buffer space prevent spoiling those who haven't listened to the whole series.

Toaster: 8, 11, 26, 29, 37

Blanket: 9, 12, 15, 22, 32

Radio: 1, 7, 16, 29, 31

Lamp: 4, 12, 17, 23, 38

Vacuum cleaner: 2, 10, 13, 31, 33

Air Conditioner: 8, 13, 19, 26, 35

TV: 3, 5, 24

Rob: 5, 24, 38

Kris: 1, 3, 25

Parts Shop appliances: 14, 18, 30, 34

Junkyard appliances: 5, 15, 30, 32

Tinselina: 21, 24, 28, 34

Ratso: 7, 26, 31, 32, 35

Wittgenstein: 8, 16, 23, 32, 35

Spoilers for episodes 80-200 below this point.

Anyway so now that only the ones knowledgeable of TMA are here, the Dread Powers seem to both kick their asses and love them. Which dread powers I think they'd be aligned with, you likely get a clue based on my descriptions and chosen episodes if you're down here. But I'll make it clear here because the implications are so much to me.

Toaster: Terminus, The Mother of Puppets, The Lightless Flame

Blanky: The Forever Blind, The Crawling Rot, The Future Without Us

Radio: Butchery, Viscera, I Do Not Know You

Lampy: It Is Not What It Is, Beholding, Vertigo

Kirby: Too Close I Cannot Breathe, Everchase, The One Alone

Air Conditioner: The Mother of Puppets, The One Alone, Ceaseless Watcher

TV: I Do Not Know You, The Future Without Us, It Is Not What It Is

The scene where they all sink is like watching the swamp of sadness in The Neverending Story, it's so sad to watch everyone's last instinct be to save their own lives, if it ever comes to their minds. I've thought way too much about this subject in particular because this scene reveals their impulses under crisis very handily. That it's a scene that handles Kirby's greatest vulnerability after we see him overcome his greatest fear is heartbreaking in itself on top of everything it reveals about everyone else. It's his final instinct rather than his first to call for help, and Toaster doesn't even try to save herself when it comes down to the wire before trying to tell someone already sinking deeper to do so.

Radio then saves their lives by not shutting up, as usual, but the helper they receive puts them directly in danger. 😭 He's so slaughter aligned that he maladaptive daydreams about war and always picks fights with everyone even if it's clear he's outmatched.

Kirby calling Blanky crying "disgusting" is honestly so horrible because he's so averse to weakness he can't stand to see it in others, but it's also a perfect way to show the difference between them too cause Kirby likes things clean. It's like he sees Blanky's open vulnerability as a contaminant that will infect him, and Blanky really needs the kind of support Toaster provides.

If Toaster's chronic nightmare is not End and Desolation coded I really don't know what is. The inevitable loss and mortality vs lost potential burning out, it's kinda crazy to consider the fact that this movie's plot begins and ends with a death. If this movie were a Leitner, it would absolutely be of the End and Desolation. I can even envision a corrupted version where they lose each other one by one and Toaster, the last one remaining, accepts the End that inevitably waited for her. All those precious lives lost in a fruitless act of devotion is so Desolation.

[fantasyideas1]

quotes almat

foaming at the mouth with passion and animal lust in love, mechanical excitement and falling in love, instinctively subconscious, I like every second spent with you, infinitely beautiful, deeply loving beauty of perfection, you are a pure form of erotic passion, the fire of lust in my erotic dreams, your beauty increases the degree of lust, sets fire to sperm like gasoline with passion, your pheromones are flammable, erotic hypnosis of your charms, you are a powerful via agra, you can stab a sofa with my boner, I have sperm incontinence in my pants because of you, fall in love deeply to trembling in my soul, vibrate from orgasms of love, it’s hard to breathe from admiration, deep tenderness in my soul from your beauty , juicy pleasure for my soul, an explosion of genitals, a head out of your beauty, a heart attack from an orgasm of falling in love, your beauty is like an erotic vibrator for the cells of my body, a tremor of a vibrator of excitement in love, every second with you is overloaded with passion and love, epic romance of eternity , devotion in thoughts to you, my love for you elevates me to the highest feelings of bliss, the circulation of love for you fills me with life, in the repetition mode, thoughts idolize you, jokes The guy says: I won’t go to the zoo anymore, the chimpanzee showed like she licked me, and then pointed to her vagina You've got wrinkles on your forehead like zen sand, storming on the waves The boy has seen enough action movies, he has a shooter in his head (shooters), I was also so wild and stupid now I work in the service staff Long time no see, god the years have fucked you He has a safe with a scanner for his nose, you need to put his nose and a penis made under a cast of his penis and nose into the hole, the robbers came to stick his nose into this vagina, the nose scan began, and now the penis into this hole, well, excite him like he does passed out, the police came and sees the robbers jerking off the guy to steal his money, one policeman says it reminded me of marriage with my ex, the policeman gives an interview this was the most unusual robbery case considering that the penis safe hole was just a joke Why did you lick the window of a fitness club where fitness girls train on treadmills Have you seen the new guy in our sales department, yes, for our employees, he is like a vibrator for the clitoris You have high heels, it’s like you’re learning to walk again, your nose is probably bleeding, the police stopped you because of a drunken walk, as if you were walking on a tightrope like a drunk on roller skates, a cute blush of bruises on your knees, angry that the guys seem lower , like a spire for lightning, you can see my house from above, there is probably rarefied air at your height, on the sides of your girlfriends to catch And I don't understand what unboxing a virgin means That's my beach tan, you got khaki skin like a computer desk Why don't they take me to work sniffed my armpit, grimaced, checked my breathing heavily went off scale Paranoia? Like a cobweb got on your head, but in fact there is no cobweb Honey, I have a brutal boner on your new hairstyle, my penis is foaming from the mouth from lustful rabies, don’t come bite, run, he gnaws through my pants, mad dog wants to be free, shave your head You almost got pregnant twice by her, you couldn't finish and she ended up squirting into the penis a lot, I don't know how it's possible, the doctors called you a rare phenomenon of a loser Lawyer, collector, after marriage it's the same thing, after marriage your wallet is a

Author musin almat zhumabekovich

[the-faramir]

Extinction Curse Session 2022/11/16 Part 2

The next morning, Jae Abber, mayor of Abberton came to speak to the Circus of Wayward Wonders. The balding nebbish came up to the circus wagons and asked for our heroes personally.

Dagmar, Fizzarolli, Kobrak, and Midori emerged to greet the mayor.

“Thank you so much for agreeing to see me. I saw your show last night, and it was spectacular! But then, this morning, I learned that you and your people were attacked by someone from Abberton, or perhaps from the Hermitage of Blessed Lightning? Our little town, it’s been terrorized for weeks, since long before you showed up. I’m so sorry that you got caught up in this.

“I can’t see how anyone from our town would be involved in such villainy, but I can’t believe anyone at the hermitage would do so, either. The hermits are kind, humble, and pious folk, devoted to Gozreh. Their master is a man named Harlock Hamdeel. He’s a fine person, loves animals and nature and such. Honestly, it’s impossible to imagine him countenancing anything like what happened last night.

“But that doesn’t mean the town and the hermitage always agree. Abberton has had some challenges lately. There’s been little rain, and the fields are dry. The heat has withered plants, and then we got a cold snap that froze what survived. The wind has pulled what’s left of the topsoil into dust storms. Many of our wells have dried up, and the streams…I’ve never seen them so low. Some have vanished completely. Now, it’s nature, and it goes in cycles, I know. Many of us figure we just need to be patient. The rains’ll come back. But some of the hermits have blamed us…for what, I don’t know. It’s like they think we’ve done something wrong. But we’re just farmers!

“Over the last month, things have gotten really bad. Hemmema got attacked by a wild boar in the street. Abberton’s miller, Seirah Hawfton, and her family have gone missing. No one would blame them if they left town, but maybe they were driven off. Normally, I’d go to the sheriff with this; she’s always kept us safe, but no one’s seen her, either! And I…I…I heard how you protected innocent people here last night, and I thought, maybe, maybe you could do for us, what you did for them? If you could, I’d gladly speak to Harlock about the woman who attacked you last night, perhaps even get you admission to the hermitage so you could talk to him and see for yourself they’re harmless.”

"Yeah, the Hermitage," Midori mused. That's on our list of places to go. But, I tell ya what, we need to take care o' some things around town first. Then we'll head off to the Hermitage an' go check out your lead."

"Thank you all very much," the Mayor replied, "I appreciate any help you can give us!"

After the Mayor had left, some members of the Professor's Sideshow of Everyday Marvels returned to the circus grounds with information and rumors that they gleaned throughout Abberton.

Hesper and Meitas, the Unjoined Twins, corroborated Mayor Abber's story of Hemmema getting attacked by a wild boar in town. There could be a family of wild boars that need to be taken care of.

The Tattooed Woman, Tahala, heard that Hawfton Mill was infested with wasps and the Hawfton family was nowhere to be found in the area. The mill is still operating, though.

Gidarron the Bearded Man told the tale of a gang of criminals (aptly named "The Muggers") hanging out at a tavern called The Mad Mug. They drink at the tavern all day and cause trouble all night long. The sheriff is doing nothing about them.

The Dog-Faced Dog, Cubby, reported that there is a church of Abadar in town that might possibly be associated with the Hermitage. The church smelled of rotting flesh and the general feel of the area made Cubby's skin crawl.

The party discussed which location should be the top priority. Midori interjected, "Well, I sure could use a drink!"

The rest of the party shrugged in tacit agreement, so they set out for The Mad Mug. On arrival, the company noticed that there were indeed unsavory, rowdy individuals who have taken over the tavern. Surely, walking straight through the front door would be suicide. They decided to circle around to the back of the building, where they discovered a window leading to a bedroom attached to the tavern common room, probably belonging to the owners. They decided to sneak in and take a look at the common room through the inside door. Surely enough, there were four human ruffians and a dwarf woman who appeared to be their boss, a goat by her side.

Midori whispered, "There are too many of them to take at once. We'll die! I don't like dyin'!"

Discussion ensued, with very few good ideas. Finally, Kobrak seemed to have the beginnings of an idea: "If only one of us were a female…."

Midori, offended, turned on Kobrak and spat out "Whaddaya talking about? I'm a woman!"

Kobrak replied, "Huh, I guess you are. Okay, then here's the plan. You seduce the bandits one by one. Each one will come to the bedroom here on his own. Once inside, we close the door and jump him!"

Midori's jaw dropped. "Kobrak, that is the dumbest…. Well, nothin' else seems like it'd work. Ugh! Well, I don't wanna die in this place. An' this way, they won't have a chance to touch any of us." She grumbled, "At least you don't want me to turn into a human first."

Kobrak interjected, "You can do that? That might improve our chances with these guys. Who knows if they're into furry women."

"What?" Midori hissed, "How dare you! I am downright adorable! Jus' watch me! Ready? Let's go."

She opened the door to the tavern and leaned out, making eye contact with one of the bandits. She gestured to call him over with an overexaggerated, awkward wink and a fake, cheesy smile. Surely enough, the ruffian was so tipsy that the plan worked! As he entered the room, Midori's voice grew seductive, "Get ready to live out your wildest dream!" The door closed behind the bandit, who slowly looked behind himself to see a group of rag-tag carnies ready to strike. "Or maybe your worst nightmare!"

One by one, Midori seduced the ruffians and the party knocked them unconscious, tied them up, and tossed them out the window to be dealt with later. The bartender behind the bar saw this happening, and just rolled her eyes and went back to work.

Midori looked into the tavern again. She saw an angry, heavily muscled dwarf woman walking toward the door, muttering about how her men shouldn't pick fights they can't win and rolling up her sleeves to expose tattoos, accompanied by her pet goat. "Uh, guys? What was the next step of the plan? Here comes their boss!"

So began the battle with Pruana Two-Punch and Violet. Fortunately, the party had strength in numbers, and Pruana was only able to land a few hits on our heroes, including a bloodying punch to Dagmar's nose, causing him to rage.

Once she herself was bloodied, Pruana raised her hands. "All right, all right! I give! I give! Just don't kill me. I'll give you that information about the halfling I hear you circus folk are looking for, as well."

In Dagmar's fit of rage, he delivered a final blow with his axe, killing her.

"Dagmar!" Kobrak shrieked, "we won! We were just about to get information out of her!"

Dagmar's rage subsided and he saw what he had done. "Well, what did she expect for bloodying my nose?"

Off to the side, Fizzarolli, the bone collector that he is, took Pruana's skull as a trophy.

"All right," said Midori, "now to question the Muggers an' see if they have the information their boss had."

[recitedemise]

Alone, magic is something he mightily delights in. However, to share in its majesty, it is made much sweeter. Off on his own, it would rhapsody his bones, every marrow and sinew sung cloying and sweet. But now, it is wilder. More prominent, its pace. And with the urgency of ruin, it's no longer just a song, but a cacophony of lightning worth its weight in spring.

This would be Eve. This, pure chaos. The dam wedged between them is steadily falling, and they're merging, spilling, and growing as one.

Gale breathes. Her feels her... intimately. Personally, in fact. He notes the magic in her veins, the crackle as it trills along her flesh, and the flavor as it strikes and settles in her throat. He feels her heart, too, power tizzying up her belly, but more compelling than this is the fragrance in her mind, an image, unbidden, rippling clear. It is alcohol and oud. Parchment and inkwells. And he would hear his voice as well, their nights with their books, as there's the far-away flavor of Marpenoth fruit. Persimmons, fall-fattened, lay on his tongue. (Persimmons, all sugar, is how he'd taste.) He notes the smile on her face, and he would wear his own; power and steep fondness... what a sweet mix. "A woman is as ferocious as the most potent of spells," he imparts, emboldened. "I've devoted myself entirely to the pursuit of magic. Corralling a storm and learning her sway... in my studies, I was not content to stop at ruining. I knew myself more capable. I can bring rapture."

Gosh. The mood feels increasingly, excitingly warm. With the Weave sung between them, the balminess swells like summer. Yet, wordplay aside, Gale had meant it utterly, confessing from the heart how he loved his chaos. She feels the Weave as destruction, loves all it propensity for doom, but him, unlike hers, thunders less a crescendo. No, he is a nocturne. Well-tamed. Rapturous.

She was wrong about you, Gale. You are deserving. Better.

And as her feelings swallow him, he sees himself in her mind. Gale's breath slowly stoppers. She sees him beautifully.

A surge of fondness, shared with her like a burst of solar flares, rages up the bones of his ribs. Gale's eyes widen, doe-brilliant and rained-earth-warm, and when he holds her gaze, the feeling is touched. He is remarkably swayed. Utterly stunned. "Oh--" he starts. "You would see so much in me." Is this true? Gale swallows, and gods, he can't help the color that tickles up his throat, a shade less embarrassed-tender and more humbled-pink. He's tempted to stop, to sever this connection before his yearning spills onto her, but this mood they've cultivated from the ruins of battle... Gale, with a swallow, surges on. "We can stop, of course, if you'd prefer," he offers, daydreams whirring, "but I can do more than simply show you." He raises his hand. "I can take you to the eye of the storm itself. You can become the beholder of endless potential."

Storm Sphere. At once, a dome of lightning encapsulates them, a pulse of raw energy erupting as it does. However, they themselves stand safe, untouched as a storm swell crackles thunderous up the trees, stretches of grass yielding, disturbed, and their laid low foe dragged with the force. His skin sings with the power, the ozone flavor now honey-drip-thick. Gale looks to her, pulsing godhood still there, but so, too, springs the feeling of them hand-in-hand. How she makes him stronger. A better man, too.

Gale? "I--" His concentration falters. Oh, no.

Eve has always felt rather PRIMAL when she has magic in her hands, never understanding what it means to be raw magic until she's unleashing it from her fingertips. The weave isn't the home to her that it has been to Gale for so long, but it still holds a comfort inside of it that she's always longer for. With Gale here with her, it feels more complete, but such thoughts are not her own when they've opened up the floodgates to the universe as one, and the thought that he'll know she prefers him here in it with her, is enough to cause her cheeks to flush.

"Storms are wholly misunderstood," she explains, but she knows there's just as much DEVASTATION in them as there is beauty and power. They leave their mark every time, but the taste of their energy when they fuel her is everything she's ever wanted. And Gale! Gale shows absolutely no backing down; the way he can guide whatever she conjures, excites her in new ways she'd never even begun to imagine, and it's desperately hard to keep from smiling as he stays close to her. She never expected this heat to thrum through her, but he's showing her things she's never truly imagined before. "You have experience in ruining a woman, haven't you?"

The innuendo is not lost on her, but between the gaze he's giving her and the way the magic sings through her nerves, it's enough to TEMPT her into all sorts of things. Is this how it feels? To have nothing but power coursing through you? Because with Gale as a conduit, she feels far more in control than she's ever felt, and she can taste the magic on her tongue. If this is how the Gods feel, then what a truly incredible notion that they can feel this without the need of such things as ascension. To be a God would mean incredible power, certainly, but she's still hesitant about the partnering responsibility...and Gale is genuinely SPECTACULAR without having to prove himself thus, so that has to mean something, doesn't it?

As far as Eve's concerned, Mystra was a fool to make him feel like anything less than her equal in the first place, regardless of her status as a Goddess. The power that Gale seems to be able to WIELD thrills her in ways that she's now unable not to dwell on. This hold he has over the weave is quite beautiful, and in an instant, Eve realizes she doesn't see him exactly as her equal either: he's entirely her better. Not to the point that she feels they don't have equal footing. No. He's simply truly a force to be reckoned with, and the fact he could lay waste to their enemies around them and still muster up the energy to give her a lesson in quelling and guiding explosive magic, only made her more in AWE of him. Oh, what she can only imagine he could do without the tadpole hampering his skills.

Someday, perhaps, she'll get to see it.

"You are truly a man of many talents..." she whispers reverently, feeling this feeling all the way into her bones as she manages to conjure a fireball with the heat they've manifested at this point. "Show me the lightning?" Eve asks curiously, already picturing a THUNDERSTORM inside of her head as she says it. She wishes to be able to call upon the arcane the way he can, and doesn't even second guess that every thought she's cycled through now, he's probably glimpsed.

[noblehcart]

relationship tags:

bookdoctor:   // he read the pages of her soul & knew it by heart (henry x liesel)

kimfinn: // we’re dancing in the gray & i’m slipping in his eyes (kim x finnegan)

mashstef:  // many times we were tragic but many times we were happy too (masha x stefan)

steffin:  // i was yours before i knew and you have always been mine too ( (stefan x finnegan)

glenya:   // you waged war on my heart as i waved the white flag  (glenya: hyprnovae)

jareth & liese: //  there’s magic in your kiss and i’m ready to be consumed (jareth x liesel)

rufus & liese : // he was the storm that made her feel safe; she learned to love the lightning (rufus x liesel)

adam & liese:  // darling lets make heathcliff & cathy jealous; love me just as wildly (adam x liesel)

tristan & liese:   // our game is so much more than black knight & white queen  (tristan x liesel)

trisolga : //  his soul and mine are made of the same thing; god knew we belonged (tristan x olga)

[omniscientwreck]

Let me combine both of your favorite things! I would love a little thing about Caduceus (in his infinite wisdom and questionable intelligence) trying to give either Essek or Caleb relationship advice that may or may not be actually helpful. Those two wizards are probably too much in their own heads to see what's right in front of them and could use a little nudge. Just imagine both of them going to Caduceus for advice on how they're attracted to the other and Caduceus just sitting there trying to fight to urge to facepalm.

Hello! Thank you for combining my two favourite things into this fic that took way too long but I'm quite pleased with! I hope you enjoy!

In which Caduceus has three conversations with two wizards fighting against a force bigger than either of them.

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The first of these conversations Caduceus had was expected. Gardening alongside Essek, teaching him how to sow beauty where destruction had laid waste had been therapeutic for both of them. Caduceus had never given up on the war criminal. It’s difficult to feel no sympathy for someone whose story was written across their face in blank but pleasant stares and a mask of platitudes.

The state he’d been in when they met him at the outpost had filled Caduceus with determination. He’d been as close to a wreck as they’d ever seen him and now kneeling alongside him and looking over to see a small self-satisfied smile as he observed the work they’d done, it feels like they’ve done something right. This second chance had been well earned and he has faith that Essek will continue to earn it for the rest of his days.

This Essek is determined to right wrongs, and he’s started with the garden. He pays careful attention to the plants, always asking if he’s unsure about the compatibility of certain species, and making sure to put them exactly where they tell him. When they work past the point when the sun disappears behind emerald leaves he takes off the gloves Jester had made him and digs his hands into the ground. It seems to bring him peace, it’s good that he’s found any.

Most of the time when they work it’s silent, creases pressed into Essek’s forehead. He sweats through the layers that serve to keep him safe from the heat overhead and always has to be cajoled into taking breaks or drinking water. It reminds him a bit of Yasha.

On the third day, when he’d nearly gone faint Caduceus has to intervene, “You don’t need to hurt yourself to repent you know.”

Essek takes great care to swallow and not choke on the water he’d been sipping, bad timing. The mask comes up again, “I don’t know what you mean.” he states flatly. He knows that Caduceus is smarter than that and it shows.

“Hurting yourself doesn’t change anything. It’s the creation of beauty here that tips your scales, not the destruction of yourself.”

He nods slowly, indigo eyes downcast. “I suppose you’re correct. I have much to atone for Caduceus. There is much work to be done before I will deserve any of the kindness you foist upon me.”

“Hey now, I decide who deserves my kindness. We all do.”

Essek nods again, running a dirt stained hand through his silver hair. It leaves streaks of dirt, Caduceus says nothing.

“It’s difficult to be made aware of your stark moral failings, to learn what it means to truly care for someone again. It’s difficult to care more than you expect and to know what is enough, if anything is.”

His eyes flick behind Caduceus, where he can hear Caleb explaining something to Luc and he understands more than Essek probably wants him to. “You’ll find enough.” Essek looks at him, eyes full of a delicate hope, easily shattered, “He’ll tell you when it’s enough.”

His eyes widen just slightly and a deep blush spreads across his face alongside a smile so small it’s like he doesn’t want to let himself accept the barrage of feelings it holds back. “If.” His voice is small but the weight is heavy in the tone.

Caduceus reaches a hand to cover one of his, “When. Remember, I see things the rest of you don’t.”

Essek smiles wryly at that, voice full of mirth, “Of course Mr. Clay the ever observing.”

They go in for dinner and Essek speaks up a little more, he’s a little more alive. The change is small, but Caduceus notices.

----------

The second conversation is less expected, completely unexpected if he’s being honest. Caleb arrives at the doorstep of the grove one evening around 8 months after they’d last seen each other. “Hallo friend, I hope I am not intruding.”

His smile is easier now, though still restrained by sadness. “Not at all Mr. Caleb you are always welcome here. There should be left overs from dinner, fix yourself a plate.”

Caleb allows himself to be ushered in and fussed over. He tells a few stories of the trial but Caduceus tries to steer away from that particular vein of conversation. It’s raw and it doesn’t look like he’s fully healed. There’s still one catch somewhere that he needs to loose himself from before the smile will be easy and free, before he can walk away from his past and toward the future.

“I am going to Aeor next.”

Ah.

When Caduceus doesn’t say anything he continues, voice laced with trepidation, “I am going to ask Essek to join me.” he wants Caduceus to convince him of something.

“Well, two wizards is better than one.” He eyes Caleb knowingly and the wizard squirms a bit under his gaze.

“It is just, a little strange isn’t it? The directions we are led in.” He trails off again, maybe he’s hoping for wisdom. Caduceus decides he can probably dispense something.

“You’ve never seemed like someone who wanted much to be herded into decisions to me.”

“It’s been a journey.”

Caduceus clears his dish and sets down a teapot, “It’s a journey you’re still on. One that might not have a definite end. Is it worth it to deny yourself happiness because you’re worried about whether you deserve it?”

That caught him a little off guard, copper hair shook a bit as he’d clearly gone a little further than Caleb was expecting. He likes to talk in metaphors so that he can hide from truths later, or at least pretend everything can have multiple meanings. It’s time for Caduceus to stop letting him twist words around in that expansive brain of his until the original meaning is obscured by hypotheticals.

“I cannot tell you what’s right Caleb, but if you came here for a reasonable perspective listen to the one I’m giving you.” He pours the tea and offers honey, “You will never know if you don’t go and I know you better than you think. You don’t like loose ends, not as long as there’s something to learn.”

He nods, staring into tea, they’re so similar and so stubborn that Caduceus can feel the loving annoyance usually directed at his siblings creeping in. “Caleb, stop punishing yourself for something that wasn’t your fault in the first place.” Caleb nearly interrupts but Caduceus keeps barrelling through, “Self-flagellation won’t get you anywhere, you’ll just end up with regrets and what ifs. Go explore Aeor, forget everything else for a bit. Do that thing the two of you do where you’re finishing each other’s sentences and nobody knows why you’re bothering to speak out loud because it’s obvious you’re thinking the same things.”

Caleb’s smile is smaller now, but lighter. “Ja mein Freunde, I think you will. Thank you for tolerating questions I don’t know how to ask out loud.”

Caduceus smiles back, “I think this will be good. If you need anything while you’re there don’t hesitate to reach out. Stock up on healing, you’ll need it.”

Caleb laughs at that and spends the night, before heading to Zadash the next morning, undoubtedly to clear out Pumat’s stock of healing potions.

----------

The third time this conversation is had it’s his fault. He doesn’t mean to start it, but honestly the situation is getting ridiculous and the sibling feelings Caduceus has to both the wizards are firmly cemented.

They decide to get everyone together maybe a year after the last conversation. It’s his first time seeing any of them since then and as soon as they’re all in the same room it’s like no time has passed at all. Essek had come to get him while Caleb gathered the rest at Beau and Yasha’s home in Rexxentrum. Jester wraps him in a crushing and loving hug, Beau gives him a punch that’s soft for her but still stings, Yasha offers clippings of flowers immediately, and Fjord’s hug is warm. Veth’s family is here and she looks happier than he’s ever seen her. Caleb greets him with the warmth that’s always burned behind eyes that hold less and less sorrow every time he sees him. He hopes they’ll drop it all together one day.

When they pop back into existence from the way Caleb and Essek look at each other Caduceus expects something to happen. He doesn’t know what exactly but they hold each other’s eyes in a profound way. There’s gravity to them and everyone can feel it, he’s getting tired of watching them fight it.

It seems so simple even though he doesn’t feel that kind of pull, to see where this is going. It’s feels like the days before a big storm, when everyone knows what’s coming and it’s getting a little ridiculous that you’re still waiting for lightning to strike.

Everyone else drinks, they cook and eat and tell stories. Caleb and Essek sit apart but spend the entire time stealing glances across the table when they don’t think the other is looking. Nearly always they catch each other.

Yasha plays on the bone harp, she’s gotten very good and Jester swings Veth around into a dance. Kingsley, three sheets to the wind, grabs Beau and whips her into a reluctant dance and her initial protests eventually bubble into laughter. Caleb sits beside Caduceus and Jester has switched to twirling a flustered Essek across the floor of the livingroom. It often turns to dancing with these people and he loves that they love it so much.

“As I recall you’re an excellent dancer Mr. Caleb, go cut in.”

He shakes his head, “Ah- I couldn’t. Yasha is playing and I don’t think you’re much of a dancer.” He looks over with a quirk of a brow.

“I���m sure Jester won’t mind a break.”

He coughs at that, “I ah-”

Caduceus shakes his head, “No, talking is done, this is getting ridiculous.” He puts a hand square on his back and guides Caleb to stand, “You two will weave circles of metaphor around each other until one of you drops. Go Caleb, follow gravity.”

He seems to understand, seems to accept Cadcueus’ words and as soon as he stands to full height, Essek is watching over Jester’s shoulder. She, thankfully, understands the same way Caduceus does and even sends a wink as she loudly proclaims, “Oh my gosh Essek I’m so tired, I think Caleb needs someone to dance with, go to him.” She extends her arm, releasing him, and his levitation doesn’t allow him to stumble at the abrupt change in momentum.

Essek and Caleb meet and Essek steps to the ground gracefully as Caleb holds his hand out and pulls him in.

Nobody says anything for fear of spooking the delicate peace that settles over both of them as they gently turn, but Yasha slows the music she’s playing a bit and a quiet celebration is shared in the eyes of the rest of the Nein.

Caduceus breathes a sigh of relief and Jester sits herself beside him, bringing an overly sweet juice she’d found on her travels for him to try. She tells him stories into the night, and the wizards never let each other’s hands go.

[kagehinafromtheconcrete]

afterglow || ch 07: thunder

fic summary: Kageyama has learned a lot of things since befriending Hinata Shouyou. Things about Hinata, things about himself. How to open up. How to be vulnerable. How to love. And Hinata? Hinata learns more about Kageyama than he ever thought he would. Kagehina drabble collection ft. the rest of Karasuno, written for sarahenany. prompt: “i'm here for you. don't forget that.” (no. 33) by @nightprompts  ch summary: Kageyama isn't afraid of thunder. It's not about fear, really. It's about how loud it is, and how his body reacts to how loud it is—all flinching shoulders and trembling hands and shuddering gasps—and he hates it. Even more, Kageyama hates that Hinata finds out.

ao3 // all (tumblr)

Usually, Kageyama practiced so long and so hard that sleep came easy and early.

He seldom stayed up past ten-thirty. After all, sleep was important for volleyball, and he didn’t want to show up to practice exhausted because he stayed up too late. With the Inter-High prelims less than a month away, he had to keep his body in the best shape possible.

Tonight, though, mother nature had different plans for him.

“That storm’s not going to pass soon, is it?” Hinata asked sometime around nine, having just returned from the bath. “I’m glad you let me come over since it’s been raining. I don’t know if I’d make it home safely on my bike.”

Kageyama swallowed and hummed, oddly unsettled by the idea of Hinata getting hurt. He didn’t turn around to face him, and instead, kept his focus on the sports magazine in his lap as the rain poured and poured outside. “Don’t worry about it.”

Lightning flashed. Thunder boomed above them, loud and intense enough to shake the house. Kageyama swallowed again and used a lot of willpower not to stiffen.

“My mom’s asking if… if I could stay the night,” Hinata said hesitantly after a few moments. “She doesn’t want to bring Natsu out in the storm or leave her by herself.”

His stomach dropped, and not because he didn’t want Hinata to stay—he was going to suggest it sooner or later if the rain didn’t let up—but because of the uneasiness that already made itself a home in his body. 

On the outside, he shrugged. “That’s fine.”

“Are you sure?” Hinata persisted. “Your parents won’t mind?”

Another shrug. “They won’t be home till after we go to sleep anyway.”

“Ok.” Hinata paused. “Thanks again. For lending me clothes and letting me use the bath.”

“Nn. No problem.”

Silence followed. Well, not really, considering how violently the rain drummed at Kageyama’s roof and the ominous rumbling of thunder. Hinata didn’t speak, though, and Kageyama couldn’t decide if he was grateful for that or upset about it.

Still, he remained quiet. Thumbed the page to give his hands something to do.

“Ok, I texted her back,” Hinata announced. “Thank you. Again.”

“Stop doing that,” Kageyama said, with more bite than he intended. “It’s weird. I told you it’s no big deal.”

Hinata huffed audibly. “Well excuse me for being grateful, bakageyama.”

Kageyama didn’t respond. Turned the page of his magazine, gaze sweeping over its contents. This article discussed college teams in Tokyo.

Lightning again, flickering at the corner of his vision. A dreadful crash of thunder followed only seconds later, and Kageyama’s grip tightened so much on his magazine that his knuckles turned white.

“Man, that’s loud,” Hinata said. “How are we going to sleep tonight?”

Good question. Kageyama closed his magazine and swung his legs over the side of his bed to stand. He needed to move. Needed to get this unsettling feeling out of his bones. “I’ll go get the futon.”

“Alright,” Hinata chirped. “Need some help?”

“No. I got it.”

“M’kay.”

His footsteps seemed so quiet compared to the torrential downpour outside. Kageyama ignored it and made his way to Miwa-nee’s old room, and ignored the nerves and ignored the way his heart leapt in his throat when her room became illuminated with another flash of lightning.

He could sleep in Miwa-nee’s room if Hinata wasn’t staying the night. Could pretend she was there to chase away this silly, childish fear of his—a fear that he should’ve outgrown by now. Could pretend she hadn’t left for college. Could even pretend that Ojii-san was there.

“Here,” he said tightly when he returned, dropping everything gracelessly on the floor.

“Hey,” Hinata snapped indignantly and then paused for a moment. “Oh—hey, are you cold? You’ve got goosebumps.”

“M’fine.”

“Are you sure?” Hinata blinked owlishly. “You should probably get under the covers. I can—”

He flinched when Hinata reached for him. Stumbled back a foot or so. “Don’t. Don’t touch me.”

“...oh. Ok.” 

Hinata’s voice dropped low. Soft. Hurt. Kageyama’s gaze was drawn back to him because of this, and the pain in Hinata’s eyes was enough to send waves of guilt through him.

“Sorry,” he mumbled awkwardly. Quietly. “Um. I’m fine. Let’s set up the futon and—and go to bed.”

“I can set it up,” Hinata said. “I’m sorry for, um. For the intrusion.”

Shit. Hinata… Hinata probably thought that Kageyama didn’t want him here. Was—was this bad? He didn’t usually have guests over. He wasn’t sure what to do. How to ease Hinata’s mind when his own mind was presently occupied.

Kageyama drew in a shuddering breath—one that was meant to be cleansing—and shook his head.

“No, that’s… that’s not it,” he said, his brain grappling for an excuse for his behavior but ultimately drawing a blank. Because of course his brain did that. Every time he needed it. “I’m just. The—the storm. It’s loud.”

“Oh,” Hinata repeated softly. “Yeah, it is.”

Another silence ensued, filled only by the drumming rain above. Kageyama stubbornly looked at the floor, so he barely caught the flicker of lightning and didn’t have time to prepare for the booming, crackling round of thunder.

It was the loudest one yet. So loud, in fact, that it elicited a sharp inhale of breath from Kageyama, and his hands moved on their own to cover his ears because thunder always hurt his ears and he hated, hated, hated it.

“Are… are you afraid, Kageyama?” Hinata whispered.

“Of course not,” Kageyama said on instinct, but the words came out too shaky, too rigid. Like his voice was a string pulled taut, threatening to snap. Still, he insisted, “I’m not… I’m not afraid.”

“It’s alright if you are,” Hinata said. “Thunderstorms are loud and upsetting.”

“I’m not,” Kageyama persisted. “I’m not scared.”

Hinata stepped forward, slowly and cautiously, and something warm touched his hands. It took a moment to register that it was Hinata’s hands, covering his own, and he couldn’t read the expression on Hinata’s face.

“Ok,” Hinata murmured with a slow nod. “You’re not scared.”

“Yeah. I’m not.”

“Ok. You’re not.”

“I’m not.”

The thrum of rain continued like some sick, frightening soundtrack to a movie. The pathetic, childish part of Kageyama desperately wanted to go back to his sister’s room. He really, really wished Hinata wasn’t here just because he didn’t want Hinata to see him like this.

Slowly, slowly, he lowered his hands, and gradually, gradually, Hinata pulled away. Kageyama cleared his throat in an attempt to get rid of the knot that had formed. “Let’s—let’s, uh, go to bed.”

“O…ok,” Hinata agreed.

They did. Kageyama helped set up the futon just for a distraction, but less than a minute later, he was in his own bed, listening to the downpour outside. Maybe if he had functioning headphones, that could help, but he didn’t, and it wasn’t comfortable to sleep with them on, anyway. And—

“Kageyama?”

“...what?”

Some shuffling. Footsteps, muffled by the rain. “Scoot over.”

“Wha—absolutely not! What’re you… hey, what’re you doing?”

Crawling into the bed with him was what Hinata was doing. He slid under the covers without warning, and Kageyama made an embarrassingly high-pitched noise when a pair of arms slid around his waist.

He planned to push Hinata away. Planned to shove him off the bed and scoot as close to the wall as possible. Planned to put as much distance between them as he could. 

Except the room became illuminated with lightning at that moment, and the house seemed to quake with the intensity of the round of thunder that followed. And Kageyama’s hands, which were prepared to forcibly remove Hinata from the bed, gripped Hinata’s shirt, and another humiliating sound left his lips.

“It’s ok,” Hinata whispered. “You’re safe.”

It wasn’t about being safe. It was about how loud it was, and how pathetically unprepared he felt with each rumble of thunder, with each flash of lightning. No matter how much he expected it, his body still jolted in surprise. His brain still said, “Too loud, too loud, too loud.”

Kageyama didn’t admit any of this to him, though. Nor did he release Hinata. Instead, he held on tight, wincing at the piercing sound of thunder once again.

Hinata quieted. Kageyama tensed when fingers trailed up his spine but relaxed a little as Hinata began drawing little shapes, over and over. 

 Kageyama’s eyes widened in surprise, focusing on those shapes, on the way Hinata’s fingers moved. It was… it was an intimate gesture, but also relaxing. Pleasant.

So relaxing and pleasant, in fact, that it once again caught Kageyama off-guard. When… when had anyone ever done this to him? Pull him close regardless of how much he fought it and traced invisible patterns on his back to calm him?

“Kageyama?” Hinata repeated in that same low voice.

“Nn.”

“You’re… you’re crying.”

Hinata’s fingers paused as he spoke, and Kageyama was too embarrassed to ask him to continue. He only realized, belatedly, that Hinata's words were true when something rolled off his chin and hit his sleep shirt.

“I’m here for you,” Hinata whispered. “Don’t forget that.”

The rain drummed heavily above them. Kageyama squeezed his eyes shut when the lightning came and clung to Hinata when he heard the thunder. He didn’t respond to Hinata’s statement.

Without prompting, Hinata resumed his task of drawing shapes on Kageyama’s back, his nails trailing up and down, up and down. Kageyama drew in a shuddering, wet breath and noticed afterward that his nose was buried in Hinata’s hair.

Soft. Hinata’s hair was soft. Hinata’s touch was soothing. It left him feeling warm and comfortable, like the downpour outside didn’t exist at all. Like he’d found the sun that had gone missing when the storm began.

The rain let up sometime after midnight, and only then did Kageyama start to doze. Even with the storm gone, Hinata remained by his side, tracing pictures on his back until Kageyama fell into a peaceful, comfortable sleep.

[honeyedhoseok]

Blue | 01

genre | jeon jungkook x reader; lifeguard!JK but this isn't really a lifeguard fic; soulmate!au if you squint; smut; angst

word count | 9.9K

summary | that summer with jungkook was blue--a shade that carries with it a tinge of melancholia that you should have accepted from the beginning.

or,

to say that you fell in love with a color was an overstatement, but to say that you fell in love with him was an understatement.

a/n | i've been writing this to avoid my responsibilities. hope you enjoy! <3

series masterlist

It rained the first day Jungkook worked at the pool.

You’d heard the news of a few new lifeguards starting that day, but you’d been too busy serving ice cream at the snack bar to really get anything other than a quick glance at the lifeguard stand before you were locking eyes with the next greedy customer in line.

It was the beginning of summer, with the air sitting hot, dry and heavy on the normal patrons of the pool: older moms who sunbathed and gossiped with their friends while their kids splashed in the shallow end and gave the lifeguards something to do. Teenagers too cool to actually get in the pool littered the sides, only dipping their feet in while using expensive Ray Ban frames like a headband to hold their hair out of their eyes while they talked with their friends.

The forecast had mentioned some scattered storms, but normally that just meant getting everyone to come inside for a few minutes until it passed. The storm that day, however, had plans of sticking around a little bit longer.

You were passing a cup of strawberry shortcake soft serve out the window when the first clap of thunder sounded, followed by a lightning storm that sent the lifeguards in a tizzy. Multiple whistles blew at the sudden appearance of a storm, and the atmosphere was a rush of splashing and commotion as people made their way out of the water and to their belongings scattered in chairs on the sides.

“Well, that came out of nowhere,” your coworker, Jihyo says, sidling up beside you to look at the clouds looming over what was supposed to be a normal day at the pool. “Wonder if we’ll get to go home early?”

“I hope not,” you reply. “I need these hours, damn it. The Blooming Festival is in a few weeks, and I plan on taking off at least three days to soak it all in.”

Jihyo rolls her eyes. “Yeah, you’ve only mentioned it, maybe, every day I’ve worked with you so far?”

Serving ice cream at the pool was just a summer job. You were working there to make some money so you could do things with your friends, put gas in your car, and occasionally splurge on a new outfit or pair of shoes. It was supposed to be as normal as every other summer you’d worked there in between college semesters—until he showed up.

In fifteen minutes, the pool was shut down completely; all of the patrons were packed up and back in their cars after an announcement from your manager that the storm was forecasted to not let up for at least another hour and a half.

“Oh, we’re definitely going home,” Jihyo says, shutting the serving window and twisting the lock. “When’s the last time Seokjin shut down the pool indefinitely?”

You purse your lips, leaning back against the counter behind you and looking out at the pouring rain behind Jihyo. The wind was starting to pick up now, leaves and debris filling the once-clean surface of the cerulean water of the pool.

You start to make a bitter remark but the sound of heavy, slapping footsteps cuts you off, followed by a loud pounding at the back door. Jihyo looks toward the source of the noise with furrowed eyebrows, tilting her chin up stubbornly.

“More twelve-year-olds coming to demand that we restock Moose Tracks?”

“Hey, Moose Tracks is a classic!” you call at her back as she goes to unlock the door. “It’s not their fault you keep picking unpopular flavors to order each week—like Mint Chocolate Chip!”

The back door opens, and the shop is suddenly flooded with voices following Jihyo back into the small space.

“MCC is the goddamn classic, Y/N,” Jihyo says, stomping back into the conversation like she never left off. “Don’t ever bash it again, or I’ll stop ordering Sea Salt Caramel for your uncultured ass!”

You want to laugh, but you’re too distracted by the hoard of boys—lifeguards—trailing behind her. Yoongi and the two new guys crowd your space suddenly, and you find yourself backing up into one of the corners and trying not to look as embarrassed as you felt for just arguing with Jihyo over ice cream flavors, of all things.

The boys are soaking wet, puddles collecting at their feet on the tiled inside of the kitchen, but they seem unphased by it as they huddle in. Thankfully, one of them comes to your rescue.

“I’m with her,” he says, giving you a nod. His smile fills up his whole face as he talks, making his eyes turn into little crescent half-moons. “Sea Salt Caramel is where it’s at.”

The other lifeguard doesn’t say anything, gaze focused over your heads outside where the wind is knocking sunbathing chairs over. You realize then how tall he is—possibly half a foot or more than you—and the thought that if you were close enough, your nose wouldn’t even brush the dip of his clavicle, has your cheeks burning.

He and the half-moon lifeguard have similar builds: long, lean body statures, almond-shaped eyes, the same dark hair that falls in wet strands in their eyes. You wonder if they’re related. Maybe the taller one is the older brother, you think.

“The great ice cream debate,” Yoongi murmurs suddenly, sounding bored. “How about we have some and solve this problem once and for all?”

As he reaches for one of the serving spoons, Jihyo’s arm flies out, smacking it out of his hands. It falls with a clatter onto the counter, and he looks at her with an animated expression of surprise and disgust.

“Uh-uh,” she says, wagging a finger at him. “It’s like Seokjin’s only rule for us.”

“Seokjin can kiss my—“

As if on cue, the back door swings open and Yoongi shuts his mouth as Seokjin comes in, looking incredibly dry due to the floor-length plastic covering hanging from his umbrella.

Leave it to Seokjin to own something as extra as that, you think.

“Get comfy,” he says as he steps out of the plastic, shaking water off the top that splashes onto your scuffed, white Keds.

You gaze down, realizing only then that none of the lifeguards are wearing shoes. Yoongi’s pinky toe is edging dangerously close to a melted puddle of chocolate ice cream you forgot to clean up, but you don’t have the guts to tell him in front of your manager, so you shoo the thought away and focus on the grim look on Seokjin’s face. He’s chewing gum and looks slightly annoyed at the thought of all five of you huddled inside instead of doing work.

“I hate to be the bearer of bad news,” he says, “but I need you guys to stay here until the storm calms down. It should pass in an hour or two.”

Jihyo frowns. “And if it doesn’t?”

“Then I’ll send you home.”

She grins triumphantly.

“And I’ll need you to come in early tomorrow to clean up that mess out there,” Seokjin adds, giving her a sickly-sweet smile. He blows a bubble with his pink chewing gum for emphasis, the pop resonating in the small space.

Yoongi frowns and Jihyo’s mouth drops open. The new lifeguards seem as surprised as the other two, and they eye Seokjin curiously, probably trying to figure out what kind of manager he is. Even after all this time working for him, you don’t really know the answer to that question, either.

“Any more questions?” he asks, tone leaning somewhat on annoyance. But then again, that’s how Seokjin always sounded.

Jihyo shakes her head and Yoongi gives him a deepened frown in answer.

“Good. You,” he says, looking pointedly at Yoongi and mimicking his annoyed expression. “See to it that Hoseok and Jungkook get acquainted with the rules.” He steps inside his clear cocoon of an umbrella, reaching down to zip it up above his head. “And I’ll let you know when it’s safe to go outside and clean up.”

Jungkook, you think. You know immediately that it’s his name because it just fits him. You feel yourself rolling the unspoken syllables around the inside of your mouth, wondering when you’ll get the first chance to say them aloud.

Yoongi salutes half-assedly, and Jihyo elbows him in the side after Seokjin turns around and makes his exit. After the back door is shut, the five of you visibly deflate, and Yoongi sucks his teeth.

“That guy,” he mutters. “One of these days—”

“I wish you’d learn your lesson and stop messing with him,” Jihyo says, interrupting whatever nasty comment was about to spill from his mouth. “It’s probably because of you that Seokjin wants us to stay, instead of going home in this god-awful weather.”

“Why doesn’t he like Yoongi?” Hoseok asks, eyes flickering to the chestnut-haired, simmering boy to his left.

“His most recent offense?” Jihyo ponders, crossing her arms over her chest as she thinks. “Not showing up for his shift—threedays in a row.”

“I was sick,” Yoongi says dryly, narrowing his eyes at her. “What did you want me to do? Not stay in bed and get better?”

“Oh, your bed must suddenly have relocated to the pool hall at five in the afternoon, huh?” she says, tilting her head to the side in mocking. “Snapchat locations don’t lie, Yoongi. If you’re going to play hooky, do it better.”

Hoseok chuckles. “Damn, man.”

Yoongi, never one to back down from an argument, flicks his brown fringe out of his eyes. “Why don’t you teach me then, Little Miss Stomachache?”

“I had cramps!” Jihyo says indignantly.

“You’ll learn that being around these two is like being around an old married couple,” you murmur to Jungkook and Hoseok as Yoongi and Jihyo’s voices rise louder and louder in contest. “They get along like cats and dogs.”

Jungkook grins at your comment, and you think your heart stops a little in your chest before starting an accelerated rhythm that has you feeling light. His lips pull back prettily over his teeth, his cheeks balling a little from the force of it.

“I’m thinking cats and dogs might actually be more civil than this, to be honest,” Hoseok says, gesturing to an annoyed Yoongi threatening to rub his clammy, wet feet on Jihyo’s bare, shorts-clad legs.

In the time that you had worked there, there were very few civil moments between Jihyo and Yoongi. You think that maybe they were civil when Yoongi first started, and you remember faintly a comment made by Jihyo that Yoongi was “cute” and maybe that they exchanged numbers at some point—but then rumors went around that Yoongi said Jihyo was too loud and controlling, and Jihyo said he was a selfish bastard, and you think they’ve been sworn enemies ever since.

“You’re probably right,” you say finally, giggling at Hoseok’s comment. You stop abruptly when you see Jungkook’s eyes fall to your mouth at the sight of it splitting open with a grin. They linger there for a moment before he speaks for the first time since entering you and Jihyo’s space.

“What did you say your name was, again?” he asks.

His voice is soft and low, almost a lilted hum, and it catches you off guard in comparison to his very boyish, young features. You expected it to be higher, to sound almost preteen-like, but it’s nothing of the sort—it immediately has you questioning how old he is in comparison to Hoseok.

“Y/N,” you say. “Sorry, I forgot to introduce myself, I guess.”

Jungkook smiles again, and this time it feels like one especially conjured up for you.

“Y/N,” he repeats, the sound of his tongue rolling over the syllables sends a little zap to your insides. “You um, have a little something there, on your shirt.”

He takes one hand out of his blue swim trunks and points to your breastbone, where a dark splotch of chocolate ice cream sits over your sternum.

“Aw, fuck!” you murmur, facing burning as you spin around on your heel, grabbing the nearest hand towel and dabbing at your shirt. “These kids—”

“It wouldn’t stain like that if it was Mint Chocolate Chip,” Jihyo sneers suddenly, cutting whatever Yoongi was about to say to her off. She grins triumphantly at the stain, returning to your argument from earlier. “Would it?”

You flip her the bird, still dabbing at the fabric—but you can’t help but revel a little in the cute smile Jungkook gives you as he watches you fuss over yourself, digging around the kitchen space for anything to save you from the ice cream on your shirt.

After that fated day, your mind lingered on Jungkook incessantly. At the pool, you glanced at him more often than not from the serving window of the ice cream stand, committing him to memory. You found yourself reminiscing over the upended triangular shape of his upper body, the lithe muscle covering his shoulder blades, the image of a whistle poised between his rosy lips, his teeth pressed tightly against the metal, his body wet and glistening as he rose out of the pool—

“You’re literally drooling, Y/N,” Jihyo says, breaking you out of your reverie by snapping her fingers in front of your face. “Why don’t you just, I don’t know, go talk to him?”

“I will,” you say indignantly. “I told you—I’m waiting.”

“It’s been three weeks.”

“Yeah, I know,” you say, nodding. “Still waiting.”

“Jesus,” Jihyo sighs. “I didn’t want to do this, but you know he’s only here for the summer, right?”

You freeze in the middle of cleaning the counter. “He’s what?”

“You heard me—you have less than three months, Y/N,” Jihyo says firmly. “I know rushing isn’t your style but, uh, you might not have a choice this time.”

“Why didn’t anyone tell me!”

You hate how your voice sounds pitiful and whiny, but your heart is literally sinking at this news—three months? Less than three months? Where was he going? What would you do with your time when he wasn’t there to look out the window at? It dawns on you suddenly that you won’t be there in three months, either. School started back at the end of August—your sophomore year.

“Why didn’t you let me know you were interested in him?” Jihyo crosses her arms over her chest. “I’ve been watching you fawn over him for all this time, just waiting and hoping you’d confide in me, but no.”

“What was I supposed to say?” you retort glumly. “That I like the lifeguard that seems the least interested in my existence? Yeah, no, I’ll save myself from that sadness train going nowhere, thank you very much.”

“Maybe I can help you,” Jihyo says with confidence, turning to the window. “Hey, Jungkook!”

You freeze. “What? What are you doing?”

Jungkook looks your way, raising an eyebrow above his black Ray Bans. Jihyo leans out of the serving window, beckoning him over with a wave of her hand.

She turns to you. “Look how easy this is going to be.”

You swallow to combat the sudden tightness in your throat, watching with bated breath as Jungkook climbs down the lifeguard ladder and walks to you two, his feet slapping a little on the wet cement surrounding the pool.

“What’s up?” he says, pushing his sunglasses back on his head and unknowingly releasing the full intensity of his doe-like eyes.

You inhale a small gasp that Jihyo obviously hears, because she lightly presses her Ked-clad foot on top of yours below the counter.

“Me, you, Y/N, Hoseok,” Jihyo says with a confidence you could never muster. “Dinner and a movie on the boardwalk this weekend?”

Jungkook’s eyes pass from hers to yours for a split second, and your pulse picks up speed in your veins. If he seems surprised from the random invitation, however, he doesn’t let it show on the easy-going expression that he wears.

“Sure,” he says. “Can you remind me when it gets a little closer? I’ll have to make sure my parents don’t have anything planned.”

Jihyo flips her hair over her shoulder, casually producing her phone from what feels like thin air. You blink down at her hand, realizing this was her plan all along.

“Put your number in,” she says. “I’ll make us a group chat. We should probably have one anyways, since we work together. You know?”

Jungkook nods and puts his number in before handing it back to her. A commotion happens in the water behind him, and he glances over his shoulder with concern. “I should probably head back,” he says. He gives you both a small smile before he flips his sunglasses down over his eyes again, hitting a slight jog back to the lifeguard stand.

When he’s out of earshot, Jihyo texts rapidly on her phone. When she’s done yours vibrates three times in your pocket: the start of the group chat, you’re sure.

“And that, my friend,” she says, giving you a grin that could rival the Grinch when he decided to steal Christmas, “is how you get the ball rolling!”

Unfortunately, Jihyo’s plans—which she has annoyingly coined as Operation: Get Y/N Laid—don’t stop there.

On Thursday, just two days before the plans, she convinces Hoseok to come with her to something before the meet up that’s going to coincidentally make them late so that you and Jungkook have time to be alone.

When she tells you this, it’s as she’s making a double scoop chocolate cone, but you can’t help the overwhelming urge that comes over you to put your hands around her neck.

“Ack! Y/N! Let go!” she says between breaths with wide eyes. “I’m going to drop the ice—”

“You’re so dumb!” you yell, squeezing a little harder. “That’s such an obvious ploy to get us alone, he’s going to realize it!”

Jihyo finally squirms out of your grip by turning her head and licking your arm. The warmth of her tongue makes you recoil, and she gasps with relief as air floods back into her lungs, looking at the now-lopsided cone in her left hand.

“Now how am I supposed to give this to that little brat outside?” she says, frowning. “His mom will come and eat me alive if I hand this slop out of the window.”

“You probably deserve it,” you say sourly. You lean your hip into one of the counters, crossing your arms over your chest. “Take your plans back, Jihyo.”

“I can’t,” she says calmly. “Hoseok is already in on it.”

“He’s what?!”

“He’s in on Operation: Get Y/N Laid,” she says again, with that same ridiculous manner of calm, like you didn’t just make her life flash before her eyes thirty seconds ago. “Stop freaking out—he wants to give you some time alone just like I do. So, he’s not going to say anything to Jungkook. The plan will go on like normal, you will just have to do a little acting when we don’t show up on time. Got it?”

In all honesty, it’s not the worse plan she has ever come up with. But you don’t want to give her the satisfaction of knowing so, so you keep your current frown plastered on your mouth for a little longer to let her know your displeasure with the sudden turn of events.

“Oh, don’t you go all pouty on me,” Jihyo says, wagging a finger at you as she trashes the cone you messed up and grabs another. She scoops more ice cream out of the container below her, giving you a look that reminds you of a mother watching her children open Christmas presents after telling them they weren’t getting anything for months. “You’ll thank me later—right after you tell me if Jungkook has anything worthy of talking about.”

“I’m sure he does,” you respond indignantly, falling right into her trap. “He’s intelligent.”

Jihyo hums a nod before brandishing the new cone, two scoops of chocolate perfectly centered and balanced on top of each other. “Before long this will be you two—are you a top or a bottom, though? I forgot.”

You groan in anguish as Jihyo lets out a cackle, opening the window to your stand and handing it out the impatient little boy that waits outside. You’re grateful for the breeze, although its simmering warmth does nothing for the same feeling that has settled high on your cheeks, dusting pigment there reminiscent of a similar shade of red Jungkook sometimes sports on his swim trunks.

The day of the boardwalk date, you find yourself sprawled out on the floor in front of your closet in your underwear and bra, contemplating why you ever purchased every single item of clothing in your closet.

These kinds of freak outs are normally reserved for the pressing dates in life—first day of college, nights out with the girls, birthdays—but today, you find yourself freaking out over the instance of having to wear the perfect outfit in order to feel comfortable around Jungkook.

Comfortable, and most importantly, pretty.

You shuffle through your two final picks, laying them across your bed in order to get the full effect of what they might look like on. They were both incredibly simple—your college wardrobe either consisted of exercise shorts and t-shirts and hoodies or going out clothes that were much too revealing for a fun night on the boardwalk. But you fret over them some more, so much that you almost have a nervous breakdown and text Jihyo to call the whole thing off.

But the slight hum of your phone vibrating your bed stops you before you can do so. It’s from Jungkook, and you heart beats a little off kilter at the sight of his name popping up on your phone screen.

Jungkook 5:15PM : We still meeting at 6?

It’s directed to your group chat with him, Jihyo and Hoseok. You take a deep breath. Jihyo had told you that she wasn’t going to respond to any messages until the last minute, to really sell her “emergency” that she had to bring Hoseok along on. You were driving separately, as was Jungkook, but the two of them had decided to conveniently carpool a day prior.

Y/N 5:18PM : I’ll be there! Park at Pier 14, it’s the closest one to the boardwalk

Jungkook 5:20PM : Yes ma’am 😊

You smile down at your phone, biting down on your bottom lip softly as you read the message over a few times before clicking the screen lock button. You prop your hands on your hips, deciding that it’s now or never. The nights got chilly in the summer when the sun wasn’t beating down as heavy, and you hated being cold. So, you choose the outfit on the right—a simple, oversized pullover and bike shorts, paired with some scuffed white sneakers, and rush into the bathroom to get ready so you’re not late.

You get to the pier at exactly 6:01 and search around for a parking space.

A part of you feels like this is a bad plan. Especially when you look down at your phone after cutting the engine and realize that Jihyo has texted you something that makes your stomach drop.

Jihyo 5:59PM : Haha…bad news

Jihyo 5:59PM : DON’T KILL ME

Y/N 6:02PM : Please, no!!! What is it!!

Jihyo 6:03PM : The check engine light on my car came on as I was leaving Hoseok’s. Don’t panic. We are waiting for AAA to come get us and take us back to his house so he can drive. I repeat: DON’T. PANIC.

“Okay, okay” you say to yourself, taking a few calming, deep breaths in. “At least she has a plan? This can still work out. I’m not panicking. Yet.”

Y/N 6:03PM : When are they estimated to be there?

Her messaging dots appear and disappear for a few minutes and your anxiety skyrockets.

Y/N 6:06PM : JIHYO

Jihyo 6:07PM : between 6:45-7PM…

Y/N 6:08PM : THE MOVIE STARTS AT 7:05 YOU ABSOLUTE

There’s a knock at your window that has you almost jumping out of your skin. When you look up, you’re met by the wide grin and big, childlike eyes of Jungkook. He peers at you through the tinted glass, looking a little sheepish at having scared you on accident.

All your anxiety about Jihyo having an actual emergency disappears as you unclick your seat belt and scramble out of the car to join him.

“I really didn’t mean to do that,” he says, stepping back and giving you space to swing your door open. “Is everything all right?”

“What?” you say. “Oh, yeah. Everything is fine. Well—sort of.”

Jungkook raises an eyebrow at you. “Did something happen?”

“Jihyo is having car trouble, so her and Hoseok are going to be late.”

You bite down on your bottom lip, shifting your weight from leg to leg. The outing was supposed to be all of you as a group—and originally, them being a little late wouldn’t have been such a problem. But you were thinking thirty minutes max, not an hour and a half!

You’re relieved when Jungkook shrugs. “Oh, okay,” he says. “Well, I’m still cool with walking around until the movie starts if you are ?”

You nod with enthusiasm. “Right—we’re already here, might as well go do some stuff?”

Jungkook smiles again, and you finally take a good look at him. He’s wearing a dark t-shirt under a black zip-up hoodie and a pair of chinos—a simpler outfit that looks way too good on his tall, lean frame. You hadn’t seen him in much other than his swim trunks because the only time you two really saw each other outside of this singular moment, was at work.

Of course, you weren’t complaining about that aspect. You could probably pencil out in detail the muscles of Jungkook’s upper chest and stomach, the way water rolled off them when he got out of the pool, the way they flexed when he pulled his whistle to his mouth. That is, if your drawing skills weren’t absolute shit—so bad at that a kindergartener could probably put you to shame with snapped Crayola’s and disproportionate stick figures.

The sun has already sunk below the horizon, taking with it all the heat and warmth of the day and leaving you with a slight breeze that could give you goosebumps if you let it, and a sky the deepened color of cornflowers.

It’s twilight, you realize, as you trail beside Jungkook from the parking lot cement onto the wooden planks of the boardwalk. A backlit, blue-hued time of day that you absolutely adored during the summertime because you still had just enough light accomplish the activities you wanted to.

Not that you needed to worry about light at a time like this—the bright boardwalk stadium lights are almost blinding, and because it’s the weekend, the two of you find yourself periodically weaving in and out of the crowd that seems to get busier and pushier the further you walk.

Jungkook takes the lead, his taller frame holding more of a reason for people to move out of the way than yours. You watch the back of his head the whole time, noticing the way his raven hair reflects the light—shiny and clean and looking incredibly soft.

“How about a snow cone?” he calls over his shoulder. “It looks like there might be somewhere for us to sit up there.”

He points ahead and you call out an agreement to him, hoping to be heard over the ruckus.

You realize that the crowd isn’t going to let up anytime soon—people have no qualms about walking in between you two, and you find yourself speeding up in order to not be further separated from him.

At some point Jungkook glances behind him again and realizes your struggle. He slows his pace, and you happen to look down and realize he is holding out the long sleeve of his hoodie for you to hold on to.

“Don’t get lost,” he says with a grin. “This snow cone will be worth it, I promise!”

You return his smile, holding onto his arm with a light touch as he continues to lead through the crowd. You curse Jihyo silently in your head—despite her fake emergency turning into a real emergency, she was right about one thing: time alone with Jungkook was something you couldn’t pass up.

When you finally make it to the snow cone cart, you let go of Jungkook’s arm quickly. He looks at you with suspicion as you snatch away, the corner of his mouth quirking up into a shit-eating grin, like he knew exactly what he was doing to your racing pulse by offering you his touch.

“What flavor do you want?” he asks, looking at the menu stand on the right. “My treat.”

You both immediately point to Tiger’s Blood, and Jungkook seems pleased with you.

“Good choice,” he says. “If you picked Pina Colada, I was going to lose it.”

You giggle. “You don’t like coconut?”

“No,” he says, frowning. “I snuck some of my mom’s Malibu one time without realizing and I almost barfed.”

You laugh again, shaking your head. You realize that you still don’t how old Jungkook is, and while he orders your snow cones, you look at him with scrutiny. There was something young about his eyes and face, the roundness of the tip of his nose and cheeks making you believe he was younger than you. But his body—good grief, his body—and the sharpness of his jawline and said otherwise.

When you’re both seated at a picnic table, you decide to ask him.

“Why?” he says. “How old do you think?”

You take a timid bite of your snow cone, relishing in the satisfying crunch of ice between your teeth. “Hmm, I know you’re college-age. Just wondering how old.”

“That story I told about sneaking alcohol was from a few years ago,” he says, laughing. “I’m twenty-one.”

“Oh.”

“You’re only nineteen, right?” he says, but it doesn’t seem like he cares much that you’re younger.

You nod. “But my birthday is in September.”

“So is mine,” he replies with a grin. “We’ll have to try to celebrate together, somehow.”

You try not to let on how happy his suggestion makes you—that months from now, you two will be friends that throw parties together, or possibly more—and you settle into your seat, munching happily on the cold treat that is slowly turning from ice to mush in the paper cone in your hands.

“So why the pool?” you say a few moments later. “Did you work at another one before ours?”

Jungkook blinks. “I have my CPR certification from another part time job I had at a gym,” he said. “I don’t know why they made us get it, honestly.”

You laugh. “Maybe in case one of the meatheads lifted too much at once?”

“Maybe,” he says, grinning. “But the gym couldn’t work around my school schedule anymore. So, when I came home I saw the pool was looking for a new part-time lifeguard and I applied.”

“You only come home during the summer?”

Jungkook nods, but a look of annoyance flashes across his face before he answers. “There’s not much for me here, honestly. I like school and being on my own, away from my parents.”

“I get that.”

It was something you could both agree on. You didn’t realize freedom could taste so sweet until you moved into your dorm on campus. You could stay up when you wanted, sleep when you wanted, go out when you wanted. As long as you kept your grades up and didn’t lose your scholarship for your parent’s sake, you were literally allowed to do whatever your heart desired.

“It’s too far away to fly back and forth, anyways,” Jungkook adds, suddenly. He tilts his paper cone back, dumping all of the remaining liquid into his mouth before crumpling it in his left fist.

“How far?”

“California.”

“Oh. Why there?”

Somehow, you were taken aback to hear that he’d chosen a school so far from his home. You wonder suddenly if the sullen look he’d given your earlier had more to it than you realized.

Jungkook ignores your question—like you expected—and stands up. You scramble to finish the remains of your cone and he holds his hand out for your trash. You give it to him, feeling the slight brush of your fingers against his palm that reminds you of earlier when he’d offered his arm. He doesn’t this time, but you find yourself wishing he would again. Or that you two were close enough for you to reach out and grab it without his permission.

“That’s a story for later,” he says, giving you a look meant to soften the blow of his hard statement. “I don’t want to talk about it right now—it’ll ruin the mood.”

You nod slightly, bringing your bottom lip back between your teeth to gnaw on. You hadn’t meant to upset him.

“Is there anything you want to do?” he asks, looking around. “We have about thirty minutes before we should head back to the car for the drive-in movie.”

The boardwalk was in full swing as the night progressed, the sky now a deep shade of indigo behind him. You stand with him, leaning onto your tip toes in an effort to recognize any signs further down the wooden path.

“The arcade, maybe?” you suggest.

Jungkook fake clutches at his chest, staggering with clumsy steps to one side. “A woman after my own heart,” he says theatrically. “I might faint.”

You laugh loudly and roll your eyes to cover up your own heartbeat thumping wildly in your ears. You use the rush to match his energy: “I’m only saying it because I want you to win me a plushie.”

Jungkook smiles, his eyes full of light and mischief at getting to show off his skills. “That, madam, is a deal. Let’s go.”

Jihyo still hasn’t texted you by the time you and Jungkook exit the arcade.

You want to send a scolding text to her, but in reality, you don’t really care if they show up anymore. Jungkook seems to have forgotten they were coming—he doesn’t look at his phone once while you two flit from game to game in the arcade.

You’d watched from the side as he entered a water pistol race with a few other patrons of the boardwalk. He sat down on a stool right in the middle of everyone, leaning over the gun and closing one eye for better accuracy. His tongue poked out between his lips, his form rigid and unyielding until the announcer blew a whistle to start the race. You held back a laugh at his seriousness, pressing a hand to your mouth in case he looked over at you.

He did, but only once the flashing lights above his booth went off, signaling him as the winner. He’d hopped off the stool and raced over to you, placing a hand above your elbow before pulling you over to claim your reward from the prize table.

You chose a blue and white dolphin that was just big enough to be slightly comical. Jungkook carried it over his shoulder as you two walked back toward his car, giddy from the excitement of playing carnival games and teasing each other all the while.

“Okay, but you wouldn’t have even beaten me at basketball if yours didn’t come to my side and knock my shots off course constantly!” Jungkook insists. “You’re a sneaky little thing.”

“Why can’t you just admit my two-pointer is better than yours?”

“Y/N,” Jungkook says, shaking his head in disappointment. “I’m almost six foot and you’re what—five-one? You simply can’t be a better shot that I am because of your genetics. I’m sorry.”

Your mouth drops open. “I’m literally five-three!”

“Minus two.”

“Oh, whatever!”

Jungkook laughs loudly, throwing his head back from the force of it. You pout alongside him, but you can’t help the telling smile that creeps onto your face. You like this side of Jungkook—it was so different from the stoic and quiet lifeguard you knew him as before.

“The drive-in is just a block that way, right?” he asks once you two come up on the parking lot. He shifts the dolphin higher on his shoulder, stopping in his tracks to turn and look at you. “I can drive us in my car, if you want.”

Your eyes widen a little at his suggestion. You didn’t even think about the fact that if Jihyo and Hoseok weren’t here, it would just be you and him watching the movie together.

“Oh—um, I mean,” you stumble over your answer. “If that’s okay with you?”

“I offered, didn’t I?” he says with another laugh. He gestures to the stuffed animal perched on his shoulder. “Plus, we’ve got a nice seat cushion, here.”

You smile and nod before following him to his car. It’s a little navy SUV—something you didn’t expect him drive at all. He seemed like a “car guy” for some reason, one that would have driven something old and sturdy and loud.

“This is—cute,” you say, for lack of better wording.

Jungkook sucks his teeth. “Man, why does everyone say that?” He groans. “This thing is great on gas, okay? And look at all this trunk space! I mean, if you lived all the way in California—"

“Hey, hey,” you say, holding your hands up in defense. “I’m sorry, that was terrible wording. Did I say cute? I meant cutely efficient. You didn’t let me finish.”

Jungkook laughs again, nodding. “That’s what I thought you meant, yeah.”

He throws your dolphin in the backseat and then opens the passenger side door for you to get in. Your cheeks are hot as you move past him to settle into the seat, giving him a timid smile as he shuts the door behind you. You watch him walk around the front of the vehicle, lit up by a neighboring car’s headlights for just a fraction of a second.

He’s handsome to you while doing the most mundane of things, and your heart hurts at the thought. You couldn’t have a crush on him. He was your coworker for one, and for two, he didn’t live there. He went to school across the country, and he was only home for three incredibly short months. There would be nothing to your relationship, so you couldn’t let yourself fall into the trap of having a crush on someone so, well—unavailable. You pinch yourself hard on the thigh as a seal of reminder: this could not, would not, happen.

The slam of the car door brings you back to reality. Jungkook presses the start button on his dashboard before clicking his seatbelt across his upper body.

“You good?” he says, looking over at you with a furrowed brow. When you nod, he backs the car out of the space, his hand on the back of your headrest for good measure.

You take a few uneven breaths in and out at the action, forcing yourself to remain looking out of the front windshield and to not turn your head towards him even a fraction. You know doing so would put your faces at an incredible proximity, and you what the hell did you just pinch yourself over if you weren’t going to stick with it!

“Any word from Jihyo and Hoseok?” he asks. “It would be cool if we could still get dinner with them afterwards, at least.”

You pull your phone out of your crossbody. The screen lights up to no new unread messages, so you sent Jihyo a quick text in your private chat.

Y/N 6:58PM : Update?

It sends but doesn’t get read immediately in normal Jihyo fashion.

“Hm, maybe the tow truck is there, and she can’t talk,” you say. “I hope everything’s all right.”

“Me too,” Jungkook says. “But this is fun—with just us two.” He pauses, glancing over at you. “Don’t you think?”

“Yeah, of course,” you say quickly, giving him a smile. “I’m having a great time.”

He seems sated by this information, but you’re not sure why. “I’m glad.”

Jungkook drives you to toward the movie parking lot—a grassy field with neat rows of cars guided by a parking attendant in a bright, orange vest—and Jungkook reverses in the directed spot in the middle row of cars. You can see the screen perfectly, but only out of the back window from the way he parked. That does little to deter your excitement, though.

“The screen is huge!” you say in awe, twisting in your seat.

You look on as it plays movie trailer previews for remaining months of the summer, and the thought flits across your mind just how many you might get to see with Jungkook before your time was up.

“You’ve never been to a drive-in?” Jungkook asks. “We gotta make this one extra special, then.”

You look over at him with an eyebrow quirked. “What do you mean?”

“I mean,” Jungkook begins, unlocking the car doors, “I’m pulling out the big guns.”

He hops out and heads to the trunk of the car. You scramble after him, shutting the passenger door behind you and joining him where he stands with the trunk popped open. You watch as he lowers the second row of seats flat after moving the dolphin plushie and a conveniently-packed duvet. You look at him with raised eyebrows as he unfolds the blanket across the flattened seats, making you two a perfect spot to lay in the back of the car while watching the movie.

Jungkook sees the suspicion on your face and chuckles, scratching the back of his head. “I just thought we might want to be comfortable if we’re going to be watching a movie for two hours, you know?”

You ignore him and climb in through the open trunk, settling down with the dolphin as a cushion for your back. “Where’s the popcorn?” you ask, laughing. “This is perfect.”

Jungkook holds up a finger. “One moment, m’lady.”

He takes off from the car and you sit up on your elbows, watching him jog up to a stand at the front of the drive-in parking lot that was selling snacks and drinks for the occasion. You pinch yourself again for good measure when he comes back a few moments later, reminding yourself of your pact. Just because you two were alone, in the back of Jungkook’s car, laying down, about to watch a movie together, alone, didn’t mean anything!

The scent of butter and salt fills your nostrils as Jungkook returns, handing you the popcorn and drinks as he climbs into the trunk and settles beside you. He sits cross-legged and digs into the pockets of his chinos to reveal candy in both hands.

“Sour straws or gummi bears?” he asks.

“Gummi bears, but I want a sour straw, too.”

Jungkook laughs. “Agreed.”

As you two dig in, the beginning of the movie flickers onto the big display screen. People pass by Jungkook’s car on their way to the food stands at the front, and you and Jungkook settle against the giant dolphin propped on the back of the front seats.

“I’ll have to figure out a way to repay you for all of this,” you say quietly in between sips of fizzy Coke. “You keep paying for everything before I can offer.”

“Would you rather us go Dutch?” he asks in the dark.

He’s incredibly close to you—his forearm brushes against yours when he moves because the dolphin only spans so far when you lay it down. It wasn’t the biggest prize, because you didn’t want to carry around a massive plushie, but it certainly wasn’t the smallest they had, either.

On screen, the heroine is introduced going about her daily life. She gets ready, brushes her teeth and hair, puts on her makeup for a normal day at school. When she pulls up to school, a sleek, black motorcycle is parked in her usual spot. A little ways from it, she notices the culprit—an extremely handsome guy holding a bike helmet within the crook of his arm as a swarm of cheerleaders surround him like he’s the coolest thing since sliced bread.

“Yeah,” you say honestly. “I mean, I hate the thought of depending on other people.”

Jungkook turns to look at you as you say this, and when you glance at him, there’s an emotion plastered on his usually friendly face that you can’t pinpoint.

“Consider it our first date,” he says finally, with a shrug. “Then you don’t owe me anything and you’re not depending on me, either.”

Your heart lurches in your chest. “Oh—um—well—”

Jungkook tilts his head down as he bites into a sour straw, pulling the candy away from his clenched teeth so it makes a small pop as it separates. He nudges you with his shoulder that is already leaning against your own.

“Did you see that?” he asks with a chuckle. “The stunt doubles are so noticeable in this movie—they have totally different builds than the main characters.”

You swallow the lump in your throat and manage a breathy laugh. A date. The word echoes within the chambers of your mind, repeating over and over like he just yelled it into a cave at the top of his lungs. It reverberates around your skull until you feel your skin buzzing from the meaning.

So much for your pact when he was saying things like that so casually. God, you couldn’t wait to get Jihyo alone to tell her everything.

The movie continues, and a glance down at your phone lets you know that it’s only thirty minutes in when Jihyo finally texts you back.

Jihyo 7:36PM : Hoseok and I aren’t going to make the movie. We’ll just explore the boardwalk until you two lovebirds are done and then we can get food!

You relay the information to Jungkook—leaving out the lovebirds bit. He nods in understanding.

“I figured they wouldn’t—but I’m glad we’ll get to see them,” he answers. “Hoseok texted me a while ago and said Jihyo’s engine light was on because she slams on her brakes too much. He thinks he has whiplash.”

You giggle. “Somehow, I’m not surprised.”

“My little mom-car doesn’t seem so bad now, does it?”

“I told you I liked it! I would totally pick my kids up from soccer at 6PM on Thursday in this!”

Jungkook throws a half-popped kernel at your forehead. “Rude.”

“You said the mom thing first!”

“Because I’m allowed to pick on Cheryl—she’s mine.”

“Cheryl?!” You dissolve into a fit of giggles. “Please—don’t tell me—”

Jungkook takes the weight of his shoulder pressed against yours and pushes you over with it before you can finish your sentence. You lean away from him but bring the force back with your own shoulder, fighting him for more room on the dolphin-plushie-turned-back-rest.

You two battle for a second, pushing against each other like children until Jungkook lifts his arm up and around you, cocooning you in his warmth and bringing you to rest fully on the right side of his body. He’s leaning a little against the corner of the back of the SUV and you are nestled within his side body, feeling the heat of his chest pressed against your cheek. You breathe in and out before you realize that maybe, you should move.

You go to sit up, but Jungkook says, “Wait, stay. You’re warm.”

It’s not you that’s warm—your face, sure—but Jungkook’s body feels like your own personal heater. You try to relax, leaning against him once again in a better cuddling position with your head resting on Jungkook’s chest, right below his collarbones. You can hear his heartbeat this way—thudding what you think is a little faster than normal underneath the layers of his thin hoodie and T-shirt.

“Are you comfortable? Can you see?”

You’re not sure, but you think he sounds a little breathless—from the sudden change in your positions, or the tussle before, you can’t tell which is the culprit.

“Yeah,” you say, shifting a little so that you’re more on your side rather than just leaning over onto him. “Are you okay?”

“I’m great,” he says, and again, it sounds like there’s a hint of smile in his voice.

You can’t focus on the movie after that. Jungkook is too close, his intoxicating scent swirling into your nostrils with every inhale, your head rising up and down with each breath he takes. This was what friends did, right? This was totally friendly. He just wanted you to be comfortable. You repeat this to yourself as Jungkook’s hand—that was once just dangling over your shoulder—begins to trace soft patterns into your side.

You close your eyes, focusing on slowing the thumping of your heart, timing your inhales to let him know that this is okay. This is totally fine. You aren’t freaking out. You’re just here, enjoying everything that Jungkook had to offer you.

It’s fine. He’s fine. You’re fine. Maybe he was just touchy—some boys were like that, after all. Some friendly relationships included tons of skinship. You just weren’t used to it, and you needed to quickly acquaint yourself with the fact that this was how it would be with him if you continued to hang out.

Before you know it, you’re so lost in your thoughts you don’t catch most of the end of the movie. In fact, you don’t even realize it’s over until the credits are rolling and people are moving around you again, the sounds of car doors and trunks slamming as people get ready to move onto their next activity.

It’s only 9PM, but it’s dark outside—the blues of the sky that had enticed you so much once before had faded to an indescribable navy, a blue so deep that it looked black. If you focused, you could see the minute twinkling of stars past the stadium lights on the outskirts that blink on after the movie is over so everyone could exit in a timely and visible fashion.

Jungkook yawns, patting your side. “I think I fell asleep for a moment—I was so comfortable here.”

He laughs in spite of himself, and you give him a breathless chuckle in return. “Sorry if I made your side sore.” You get off of him, scooting over to give him a little room to sit up straight.

“Sore?” he asks incredulously. “Y/N, you’re like a feather. I’m not that breakable.”

Boy, did you know. Thoughts of his muscular stomach flash in your mind, and you will them away. He watch him reach up to close the trunk as people begin to move outside of the car, cocooning you two back into a comfortable darkness from the tints on the back windows.

“Still.”

“Still, what?” he says. There’s a small silence that ensues. “You’re so nervous around me. Is it me?”

“What?” you say, furrowing your brow. Your skin pricks with the same nervousness that you are about refute. “I mean—”

“I know I’m pretty standoffish at the pool, but I don’t mean to be that way,” he admits. “I just felt like I was in this new place with all of these established relationships and rules. You have Jihyo, and well, Hoseok and I are close, but we’re not best friends.” He pauses. “I was really surprised when Jihyo invited me out with you all.”

“Surprised,” you repeat quietly.

His words absolutely contradict the Jungkook you thought you knew. But maybe that’s how it would always be—you realizing he had his own motives and reasons for being the way he was, and you not understanding a bit of it until he decided to divulge you in them.

“Yeah, surprised,” he nods. “I feel out of place, here. If I’m being honest.”

“But you live here.”

“I don’t have any friends though, because I’m gone for nine months out of the year,” he says, shrugging. “I didn’t have any in high school, either. It was just—I don’t know. I didn’t like it here, so I didn’t see a reason to have any ties.”

You can’t really wrap your head around it, but you realize Jungkook is being vulnerable to you in this moment. You don’t want to make him regret it, so you reach out to him—the closest thing to you is his hand, resting on the duvet between you two—and you run your fingers over the soft skin in a timid, unsure fashion.

“Jihyo and I will never say no to new additions to our friend circle,” you say with a smile. “It gives us reasons not to kill each other if someone else is watching.”

Jungkook chuckles a little, holding your gaze. The trunk of the car is still closed, and most of the crowd has dispersed to other parts of the beach where the boardwalk is still alive and filled with weekend nightlife.

“That’s good to know,” Jungkook says softly, looking down at your hands on the blanket. He slides his underneath yours and links his fingers through the spaces in between.

“Y/N—” he says, leaning closer to you, “—thanks. Really.”

You lean closer as well, feeling the magnetism of your two bodies being pulled together in the dark. Your breath comes out in unmeasured puffs, threatening to give away how nervous you are. You’re glad Jungkook can’t really see you anymore, and you’re certainly glad he can’t hear the unsteady beat of your heart as your faces inch closer and closer. As the quiet of the night cocoons you two like a soft blanket, there is no noise other than your heartbeat in your ears as Jungkook’s mouth hovers over your own.

You feel his unsteady sigh outwards as he says, “Are you sure you’re not—”

You use your remaining courage to stop him before he can finish his sentence, closing the distance between your mouths into a soft, sweet kiss. It stays that way for a moment—closed-mouth and innocent—before Jungkook brings his hand to the back of your head and deepens it, pressing his mouth hard against your own in a way that is a command all in its own.

Your lips part involuntarily and Jungkook’s tongue presses softly against the ridge of your mouth, tracing the outline until he is exploring the inside with ease and expertise. As your tongues lace together, you find yourself placing heavy hands on his chest, slightly wrinkling the collar of his shirt with your nails before you slide your hands up and over his shoulders and hook them together behind his neck.

Your head tilts to the right and you push back against him, following the energy and putting it into the most passionate kissing session you’ve had—well, ever. Jungkook places his hands on your hips and pulls you over him so that you are straddling his waist, his experience showing as he places you right on top of his hardening member. You have no choice but to feel it between your thighs and the thin material of your bike shorts—a decision you certainly didn’t realize would come in handy when you’d picked them out a few hours ago in your bedroom closet.

You two kiss and kiss and kiss, getting lost within each other for what feels like hours. You can’t allow yourself to disassociate and think about anything other than what was happening in the moment—although there was a part of your brain that couldn’t believe it was happening, surely.

You were kissing Jungkook. Jungkook was kissing you—no, it was more than that. He was touching you: his hands making a lazy trail up your back, in between your shoulder blades and over the hump of your shoulders until they entangled in your hair and kept your mouth criminal to his. He was breathing you in: making a trail away from your mouth, down your jaw and neck, where he settled on sucking small, reddened splotches into the thin skin just around the collar of your pullover. You want more of him, but more would have to wait.

Jungkook pauses underneath you, much more intact with the real world than you are because he shushes you politely so that you can hear it: the tell-tale sound of your phone humming the vibrations of an incoming call.

“It’s Jihyo,” he says in the darkness, allowing the brightness of your screen to illuminate your faces, inches apart. He hands it to you, and you clear your throat in an attempt to sound less breathless than you actually are as you greet your friend.

“Where are you?” she asks—but it sounds more like a demand. “I know the movie is over by now. You haven’t answered my texts. Are you okay?”

“What?” you say but shake your head. “I’m fine, sorry. Jungkook and I were trying to find our way out of the theatre parking lot. It’s really crowded over here so we had to wait for our turn.”

In the light of your phone pressed against your cheek, you can just barely make out Jungkook’s knowing smirk in the dark.

“Hoseok and I are waiting at Pier 14. Did you two still want to get dinner?”

Jungkook nods in answer, leaning forward a little to press his lips softly against the center of your throat while you talk. You take a calming breath in and out as he mouths at the skin there, swiping his tongue over the space lightly before continuing to kiss away any of your troubles. You close your eyes again, feeling like you’re disappearing under his soft touch before you realize Jihyo is still waiting on your answer.

“Dinner sounds good,” you manage. “Text me an address—you and Hoseok can choose. I don’t care.”

You hang up before she can protest. Your mouth hovers over Jungkook’s, lips pressed together in a solid line.

“That wasn’t very nice,” you admonish him, placing your hands on his firm shoulders. “I was trying to talk.”

“I know,” he says in a soft tone, breathing out a laugh. “I’ll make it up to you, I promise.”

“You better.”

He gives you one last lingering kiss—one that steals the breath from your lungs and makes you feel lightheaded before he lets you go. You feel warm all over as you two crawl toward the front of his car, returning to your seats while stealing knowing glances at each other.

You don’t want to dwell on the thoughts too much, but a lot had changed in the last hour that you couldn’t even wrap your head around, much less understand and come to accept. Your lips tingle as your mind flies through the events again, attempting to see you and Jungkook from a third-person perspective in your mind, but really just focusing on the way it felt when he was kissing you, touching you, breathing you in.

You knew one thing for certain, though: your pact with yourself was up. You weren’t just diving into the shallow anymore. You were in the deep end.

[startanewdream]

hi, Mah! well i don't really like the winter solstice as i don't deal with winter very well but i love birthdays!

so, to join the game I'll send to you a prompt you and let you send me another one - any couple you want <3

for you: 1. “We found you crying. What happened?” and 13. “You’re supossed to be mad at me! Why aren’t you yelling at me?” + jily lives <3 (if you want to do just one, that's fine)

Hi, Sweet! I like to think winters solstice just means my birthday has the longest night of the year. More stars!

Well, for you I went with what's probably my fave soft moment between Lily and Harry (with a little twist on quote #1). All love here. Hope you enjoy it! ❤

The thunder shakes the windows of his room. Harry peaks from under his blanket, watching the rain lashing the window. It’s just a summer storm, he tells himself, trembling. Uncle Moony explained to him why there are more storms in the summer, and it should be something very normal.

And yet he can’t help but recoil as lightning crosses the sky, illuminating all the room and creating shadows that Harry never saw before inside his room. Monsters and ghosts and claws and what if they catch him...

He puts the blanket all over his head, but it doesn’t help much. He can still hear the rain and the wind and his heart skips a beat over each thunder. He wishes he hadn’t told his parents they could store away his lion plushie (‘I am seven, Mum, I’m too big for plushies!), because he really wanted a company right now.

And not any company.

He raises hesitantly, careful to avoid looking in the direction of the window again, and he leaves his room quickly. The hall is deserted, but the lights are on, and that gives him a small comfort. By the time Harry reaches his parents’ room, he is already feeling silly for being afraid of a storm. Perhaps he should get back to his bed, be the brave boy his father tells him he is, and just laugh of the whole thing—

But another thunder breaks through, resonating all over the house, and Harry opens the door to his parents’ room without further thinking about it.

The room is dark, only illuminated by the lightning that crosses the sky every now and then, but here the sound of the thunder seems less strong, as if the sheer presence of his parents is enough to draw away its force. Harry breathes in easily now, walking on tiptoes until he reaches his mother’s side of the bed.

She is sleeping peacefully and he pauses again; he doesn’t want to bother her, not with his stupid fear… But another thunder shakes the window and he lets out a tiny whimper.

‘Mum?’ he whispers, but she doesn’t move. ‘Mum?’ he grabs her arm, shaking her carefully.

She awakes with a start, blinking fastly. ‘Harry? Is everything all right?’

‘Yeah, yeah,’ he assures her quickly, with a glance towards the bundle in bed that it’s his father, but he didn’t seem to be awake, for which Harry is grateful. He doesn’t want his father to even suspect his silly fears.

Lily sits on the bed, watching him with concern, raising her hand to take out the fringe out of his sweaty forehead and then drying the tears Harry hadn’t even noticed before.

‘You are crying… What happened, Harry?’, she asks in a whisper, and Harry hesitates. He is seven, after all, and he shouldn’t be afraid of anything, and yet…

Thunder makes the window tremble again and he shivers, moving closer to his mother.

‘Ah, Harry,’ his mother sighs, raising now to place her arms around him, holding him safe in her arms. ‘Everything is fine—’

‘I know, I—’, but he doesn’t finish his sentence, shame wrapping over him as powerful as her hug.

‘You just wanted a hot chocolate,’ she guesses for him, breaking apart just enough to take her robe and put it around her shoulders. ‘What do you think?’

He nods, grateful—anything so that he doesn’t get to be alone while the rain falls heavily.

They go together to the kitchen, and with his mother holding his hand, Harry thinks the rain seems to have weakened a little. He sits at the table while she prepares the chocolate, watching her. It almost looks like it’s an usual morning in the Potter house; it’s comforting.

‘Why don’t you use magic, Mum?’ he asks, as she breaks chocolate bars in small pieces with a knife.

‘I like to do things how I learned,’ she explains, turning to him with a warm smile. ‘It’s how my Mum made it for me.’

‘Grandma Evans made hot chocolate for you?’

‘Oh, yes.’ There is a nostalgic glint in his mom’s eyes now. ‘We used to talk until late at night over a hot chocolate cup, just the two of us. It was nice’. She pours the milk over a cup, offering him. Harry mixes the milk. ‘I miss her.’

Harry nods somberly. If he didn’t have his mother, he would miss her everyday too.

‘I’m here, Mama,’ he promises, slipping into the nickname for her he is trying to overcome (he is seven). ‘We can share hot chocolate and talk like you did with her.’

His mother smiles, warmer than the boiling milk.

‘I would love that very much’.

Harry beams.

When their chocolate is over, Harry glances in the direction of the stairs, wondering if he feels brave enough to face his room alone. Maybe if he could ask his mother to tuck him in for the night… but he is seven, he is too grown up for that…

‘I am not sleepy yet,’ his mother declares, watching him with that glint that always makes Harry feel as if she can read his mind. ‘Why don’t we stay a little in the living room?’

‘I can keep you company,’ Harry says, almost nonchalantly. The smile on his mother’s face just becomes brighter.

At the living room, his mother lights up the fireplace before sitting on the couch, and Harry sits next to her, his head on her shoulder before he admits defeat and lays his head over her lap.

His mother doesn’t say anything, though, just staring at the fire as her hand runs through his hair in a soothing movement.

‘Are you cold?’ she asks after a while.

‘No, I’m fine.’ She hums in answer, distracted. ‘Mum? Could you not tell Dad about… the storm?’

She gives him a knowing look, a soft smile on her lips.

‘There is nothing to be ashamed of, Harry.’

‘Dad always tells me to be brave… I don’t want to upset him.’

‘The only thing your dad will be upset about is that he didn’t join us for hot chocolate,’ she assures him. ‘He loves you so much, Harry. And you always make him proud.’

‘I don’t want to be a coward. I want to be brave like him. And you.’

‘You are brave like your own,’ she tells him, touching the point of his nose and making him smile.

‘Even when I am afraid?’

‘Especially then. It takes courage to admit you fear something. There are all kinds of courage, Harry.’

‘Like there are all kinds of heroes?’

‘Exactly.’ His mother sighs. ‘Sometimes the hero is strong, sometimes he is smart, sometimes he sings all his troubles away. You’ll find your own.’

Harry nods, even though he still thinks he wants to be brave like his parents. They faced an evil dark lord after all. He touches the scar on his forehead absently. ‘Could you tell me a story, Mum?’

She looks at him, her eyebrows raised.

‘One that I want, or your type of stories?’

Harry sighs dramatically.

‘Your stories always have a kiss!’

‘It’s what happens before the happily ever after!’ she remarks, though the grin on her face tells Harry she is not taking this very seriously. ‘Fine, I will try to tell you one that no one gets kissed.’

‘With heroes!’

‘Ok.’

‘And swords?’

‘You want sword fights and no true love’s kiss?’

‘Fine, it can have one kiss. Just one.’

Lily laughs, lowering her head to place a soft kiss over his forehead.

‘There, one kiss.’ Harry can’t help but giggle. ‘Now, close your eyes and imagine it. Once upon a time, there was a noble warrior —’

[pigeon-princess]

TYBALT MONTAGUE’S BACKSTORY

It’s been a long time coming but here is the compiled backstory of my DnD Half-Orc Bard/Fighter Tybalt, tracing his life up until he joined the adventuring party known as The Tresspassers. I’ve also included drawings by me and other party members below the cut! 

(CW: SEXUAL ASSALT, RAPE) A small portion of Tybalt’s backstory contains some traumatic events, however they are not described in detail.

There is a collection of Islands off the coast of the continent of Iona, known by many as The Isles of Thiva. The culture of the islands is very Medditeranean, Italian and Greek inspired, so as you travel through you’d likely be seeing beautiful cliffside cities, lush wineries and lively street culture. 

For people living in Thiva, Orc pirates from across the seas are a serious problem, especially for certain villages on the Eastern coast. When an Orc raid passes through a city there is always a wave of destruction from the pirates, resulting pillaging, raping and murder thoughout.  

For the few women who survive their traumatic assault, only a handful of them are strong enough to survive and give birth to Half-Orc children. Because of this, Half-Orcs in Thiva are often looked down upon and shunned, almost as if they are a walking reminder of the trauma that the Isles have suffered. 

TYBALTS EARLY YEARS

Tybalt was one of these children. His mother was an Elven woman called Marina, from a small fishing village called Alta Maria. At the time of the Orc raid she had a husband and two, young half elven children called Mercutio and Benvolio. After surviving the attack, everyone thought she had gone mad for wanting to keep the child, but she was determined to love the baby despite the slander her husband threw at her. For her, the child was her own and one she wanted to protect them at any cost. Young Tybalt barely ever left his mothers side for the first 6 years of his life, his older brothers never wanted to play with him and his mothers husband couldn’t stand the sight of him. Despite all this he was happy by his mothers side. 

Marina - Tybalts Elven mother (Art by @lulii999​) 

Marina’s Drawings -  A young Tybalt finds a crab, Mercutio, Benvolio and baby Tybalt nap together, A grown up Mercutio and a grown up Benvolio (Art by @lulii999​) 

When Tybalt was around 6 years of age, his older brothers who are now 10 and 12 years old, invited him to play with them for the first time. He excitedly followed them to the docks where they managed to trap him in a fishing net and throw him onto a small fishing boat. Unable to escape the rope, the ship left port leaving Tybalt alone, trapped and afraid. He managed to survive the two day journey and the fishing boat arrived in the port of the capital city, Santiados.  When the boat made port, Tybalt made a run for it. He was lost and confused, but managed to survive by stealing food, avoiding the other Half-Orc kids that lived on the streets and sleeping in a barrel at night. Unable to find a way back home, and at this point thinking that perhaps his family didn’t want him anymore, Tybalt stayed living on the streets for 6 years. 

ON THE STREETS

During his time on the streets, when Tybalt was around 10 years old, he got into an altercation with an older Half-Orc boy who was picking on him. In a rage Tybalt pushed the teenager away from him, causing the boy to slip and stumble down a flight of stairs, cracking his head. When the other Half-Orcs saw that Tybalt had killed this kid, he became infamous and reveared among the Half-Orc street gangs. All Tybalt wanted to do was stay out of it. 

A NEW FAMILY 

At the age of 12 Tybalt decided to break into one of the larger merchant estates in the capital, thinking that he’d be able to steal a good amount of things from within. While rummaging through the mansion’s pantry, he was discovered by the family's 10 year old son, Romeo Montague, a human boy with bright blue eyes and blonde hair.

Tybalt threatened that he was going to hurt the kid if he came any closer, and instead Romeo suggested that if he is looking for food he should take the biscuits that they have at the back of the pantry. Tybalt hesitantly went further into the pantry to grab the biscuits, giving Romeo enough time to push the doors closed and lock him inside. Romeo immediately ran upstairs and called his parents to come down and see the kid in the pantry, his parents definitely thought he was making up some kind of imaginary friend until they heard angry yelling from behind the doors in the kitchen. 

Eventually the couple, Lorenzo and Helena Montague, sat Tybalt down and asked him about himself and why he was stealing from their pantry. With a bit of probing he told them that he lived on the streets and almost against his will Tybalt was given a bedroom to stay in and one day turned into a week. Before long Tybalt had a new family. 

Lorenzo and Helena Montague (Art by me) 

Teenage Romeo Montague (Art by me)

Growing up with his first ever friend, Romeo and Tybalt would get up to so many things together. They would spend their time pulling pranks, running away from lessons and throwing their tabaxi friend Antonio (Against his will) off the balcony to see him land on his feet (The tabaxi friend’s full name is Antonio Banderas). 

During their teenage years, Tybalt realised that his feelings for Romeo were beyond friendship and he developed a very deep, long standing crush for his best friend. He’d write poems and songs about his angst, about how much he loved him and how he was always chasing girls and never looked at him that way. 

Adult Romeo Montague and Antonio Banderas (Art by @lulii999​)

A TERRIBLE STORM 

By the time Tybalt was 21 and Romeo was 19, Romeo had started working for the family business in the merchant trade and Tybalt worked full time as his personal bodyguard and right hand man. Things took a turn for the worse when they sailed out to a business meeting with a man called Lord Magnus Kraus, an extremely well known merchant sailor in charge of an armada of sailors known as the Magdolina. 

As Magnus controls a large portion of the trade routes between certain ports, it was vital that Romeo secure this business deal in order for the Montagues to open up further trade. During the times negotiations seemed to be going poorly, Tybalt was starting to be very wary of the way that Magnus was looking at Romeo. It was like he was some kind of creature in an exhibit, and in a way that was extremely sinister and sexual. As Romeo appeared to be completely oblivious to this Tybalt confronted Magnus alone and threatened him. 

Magnus was curious about Tybalt, and offered a deal, if Tybalt agreed to sleep with him, he would agree to the trade deal and he wouldn’t lay a hand on Romeo. Tybalt was stuck in an awful situation, he knew that if he refused Romeo could be in danger and the trade deal would completely fall apart. Magnus Kraus is an extremely powerful man and one bad word from him could run their whole business into the ground. He agreed, and the next night he showed up at Magnus’s quarters. 

That night Magnus sexually assaulted him and treated him more like a beast than a person, using ropes to restrain him and whips to beat him with. Calling him awful things and breaking him both physically and mentally. There was terrible thunder and lightning that night, and from this day on Tybalt has a fear of storms as it always reminds him of Magnus. When Tybalt thought it was over, Magnus ordered him to come again tomorrow night or the deal was off. 

Terrified, beaten and bruised, Tybalt did just that and the ordeal continued every night for the next week. He even lied to Romeo that he was going to do extra work for the Magdolina so Magnus could get Tybalt alone on his ship for another 2 weeks. When all of this was done Tybalt returned back to the Montagues and swore he’d never tell a soul what he’d been through. The new trade routes were going extremely well and his parents were over the moon at Romeo and Tybalt's successful trip. 

It was shortly after this that Romeo met a beautiful red haired woman called Juliet Capulet, and Tybalt watched the love of his life fall head over heels in love with someone else. Juliet was extremely smart and insightful, early on she could see how Tybalt felt for Romeo. She tried to confront him about it to say she wasn’t sorry for loving Romeo but was sorry about how it was affecting Tybalts feelings, but he continued to deny anything of the sort. 

A few years later Romeo and Juliet announced their engagement and asked Tybalt to be their best man.  On the night before the wedding, Tybalt couldn’t bear to ruin their day with his own heartbroken feelings. Without saying goodbye or even leaving a note, Tybalt fled Santiados and sailed away to Estredios across the sea. 

A SAILOR AT HEART

Heartbroken, and lost, he spent all of his savings on food, alcohol and plent of company. When he was properly broke he hopped on a boat and started working on the open ocean as a sailor. 

During his time is Estredios and at sea, Tybalt did what he knew best to escape his heartbreak. He flirted and slept with people to his heart’s content over the next 2 years, learning not to get too close with people to keep his heart safe. He made a few good sailor friends who managed to pull him out of his darkest times and allowed him to enjoy his time on the seas. His memories of his time on the ocean are some of his favourite, although it was tough work at times Tybalt felt truly at peace when he was aboard a ship. 

Wanting to explore beyond the sea, his escapades eventually lead him to arrive at the docks of Finras, a port town on the coast of the continent of Iona. And it was there in a tavern where he picked up a job to help find a dwarven woman’s missing father, and that’s where his adventure with the party began…..

Thank you so much for reading Tybalt’s backstory! I’ve been playing this dnd character for over a year now and he means so much to me. If you have any further questions feel free to send me an ask! I’d love to answer them.

[p4lparker]

Calming Touch, Racing Hearts

You could feel his calm breathing, his chest rising and falling smoothly as he slept soundly. You on the other hand couldn’t get your mind to stop racing- you’d panicked, when it came down to it you were scared. Not of him- or the act, just what it might result in; over the past few days, you couldn’t see how this situation could possibly resolve without one or more of the party being hurt. You cared for both of your boys, deeply. And those feelings had only been more cemented. They were two sides of the same coin.

JJ like a wildfire, that spread through your body like a current of electricity. He was rash, and full of bravado; but that was only to cover the pain he was in, he relied on you and John B for more than friendship. He was beautiful and broken. But he was caring and sweet, loyal to a fault. He was carved by the gods- his eyes the bluest thing you’d seen since the ocean. His smile could light up the darkest of rooms. And he would protect you and John B regardless of the cost to himself. He made you feel safe and loved, in the small things he would do for you; like buying himself Reese’s and then letting you devour them instead as he knew they were your favourites, like when he carried an extra hoodie because you would always get cold and would never bring one yourself, like when he constantly touches you in some way or other whether it’s a hand twirling the ends of your hair or fingers tracing patterns on any exposed skin. You bit your lip as you felt John B pull you closer in his sleep, and the guilt that washed over you felt almost unbearable.

And then there was the boy holding you close to him now. John B was the calm before the storm- where JJ was rash and impulsive, John B was cool and collected. He was just as beautiful as JJ- dark gaze always betraying his emotions, they were always displayed so clearly for all to see. John B was the light to JJ’s dark. He made you feel calm like waves lapping at the shore, being with John B felt like coming home after an adventure. He wore his emotions on his sleeve, and was always tried to what he felt- letting his heart lead him and get him into trouble more times than not. John B was gentle- fingers ghosting over your skin, and he had an obsession with your hands. His fingers playing with the tips of your own or stroking the delicate skin of your wrist.

Your mind was a blur, thoughts about both boys were vying for your attention and your heart. But neither was winning out- whenever you thought about your future all you could see was you and your boys. If you imagined going on a date with one of them- a day dream about the other would pop into your head. And thinking about these boys were driving you to despair. You felt a deep sigh leave you lips, your phone buzzing and chiming beside you- swiping on the screen you saw the weather update, this storm was the tip of the ice berg, there was more to come, much more. You brushed your hair from your face and turned to look at the sleeping boy beneath you, raising a hand an stroking along his cheek softly, watching as his lips quirked into a gentle smile before his eyes opened and his blurry gaze was settled on you.

“Hey you… Guess I fell asleep…”He whispered, his voice rough form sleep, he just looked so soft. Hair even more of a mess than usual, hazel eyes unfocused and droopy and the content smile still tugging at his soft lips. His eyes gazed up at you, and it felt like he as trying to read your mind. “You didn’t sleep though…” He murmured, bushy brows furrowing as he lifted a hand and let his thumb smooth across the frown lines on your forehead and between your own brows. You shook your head and smiled slightly.

“How’d you guess?” You asked, letting your finger tap against his throat in time to the steady beating of his heart and pulse. You watched as his expressive eyes widened slightly and he cleared his throat.

“You always look really cute when you just wake up… you get all soft and pouty… But now you’re all frowny..” He muttered, his own brows slanting downwards to match your own. You raised you brows and painted a smile on your face- before pushing yourself up and off him, and reaching blindly for clothes that were still scattered around the pair of you. Tugging on articles of clothing haphazardly you tossed a shirt and some shorts to him as he stayed laying on his back watching you dress. The clothing landing on his face and he let out an ‘oof ‘ as they landed in a pile. You moved the fabric from his eyes and showed him the weather update.

“We should be getting back to your place.. it’ll need storm proofing..” You stated and continued to shimmy clothes onto your cold body. You could feel the tension settling within your body once more. And you didn’t want to let John B in on your inner monologue- so rushing him to get redressed and hide his tempting body from your greedy eyes. He got dressed- though his gaze never faltered from you, even when you both were situated in the seats up front and he was manoeuvring the Twinkie through the rainy streets; the storm having let up slightly, the thunder and lightning having stopped a short while ago, and the darkness of the evening drawing in. The wet road seemed to stretch on before you for eternity, and the journey to the chateau seemed to take forever and a day- your leg was bouncing as you tried to rid yourself of the nervous energy your body seemed to be storing; you were coming to the realisation that you needed some advice, and that meant Kie. You wondered whether you should reveal all to her or try and keep her mostly in the dark- you swiped and tapped at the screen of your phone- letting Kie know you were on your way to her, now all you needed to do was make a get-away from John B, you wracked your brain as he pulled onto the dirt track drive in front of the chateau. You followed him in to the messy building, stepping over pizza boxes and empty beer cans and bottles. You watched as he paced around slightly, something bothering him- from the frown marring his handsome face to the darkening of his eyes, and the way his hand carded through his curls- it was obvious he had something on his mind, and he was trying to find the words to broach the subject.

“Hey, are we okay?” He blurted, his other hand which wasn’t caught in his curls catching on your wrist and tugging you to him. You nodded and tried to paint a convincing smile on your face. His frown only deepened.

“Look, if its about what happened in the van… It’s fine. Like me and Jay said; this goes at your pace.. what you say goes..” John B murmured as he tugged you closer and let go of his hair before wrapping you up in his arms; face burying in your hair as he dropped a kiss to the crown of your head. You cuddled closer to him and breathed him in, he chuckled lightly- you knew he was right, but you felt almost guilty. You were the one who’d asked him for this, and then suddenly you didn’t want it. You head was a mess as he let you go.

“I’m going to grab a shower… and you are more than welcome to join, like Kie says we need to preserve the planet.. so we should conserve water and all..” He grinned and even gave you a cheeky wink as he stepped backwards in the direction of the bathroom, his fingers trailing down your arm until they were only touching the tips of your own as he stepped further away. You laughed, the joy bubbling in your belly as you pushed him away from you. He scoffed and held a hand to his chest in mock hurt, before shrugging and making his way to the bathroom. You waited until you could hear the shower running before booking it from the chateau and into the darkness. You didn’t hear him calling your name- he’d wandered into the main room and expected to see you on the pull out, but he was on his own, his apology falling into the loneliness of the chateau.

Your feet leading you to the Carrera’s place on auto-pilot, your mind focused on how the next conversation was going to go between you and Kie. You were still undecided as to whether or not you should admit to Pogue- on-Pogue-on-Pogue macking. You clambered up the handy tree outside her window and crawled through the open window, Kie waiting for you sat crossed legged on her bed. Mirroring her- you sat facing her and with one look at your face, she quirked one of her brows at you and waved a hand gesturing for you vent- and with that one motion, it all flooded from you like a river bursting its dam, words flying from your lips so quickly Kie’s head shook and her eyes widened as she tried to keep up.

“I’m doing something and I’m not sure it’s a good idea anymore. But I’m not sure I want to stop, but if I don’t someone could end up hurt..” You stated, hands waving in front of you as you spoke. “I’ve been hooking up.. or rather learning how to hook up with someone, or well two someone’s and I think I have feelings for them both and it’s a mess. But I don’t really want to stop… But then I kinda did today cause when it came time to actually hook upI freaked and told him to stop..”

“Did he? Stop?” She interrupted her hands clasping onto your own, and you froze- brows furrowing. But nodded.

“Of course he did.. its in the rules; at my pace. But I really want to have sex with him and the other guy… but I dunno, I guess I’m scared. Cause I don’t want to get hurt and I can’t bear to think about not having either one of them in my life if it works out with one of them and not the other.. I couldn’t lose either of them ever…” You rambled, barely breathing as the words spewed forth and Kie took them all in- a small smirk resting on her pretty face.

“So how long have you been fucking around with Jay and John B?” she asked, glancing at her nails, pretending to not be bothered. But you gasped, and tried to cover it with a cough.

“What makes you think its them?” You tried tom laugh it off, but the laugh came out nervously, and you may as well be carrying a sign telling her. She rolled her eyes and laughed.

“How long Y/N?” She asked again, not playing along with your bullshit. You sighed and tugged at your head, she shook her head and pulled you around like a rag doll until you sat with your back to her and he was able to get her hands in your hair and begin to braid it- her fingers twisting and turning your hair soothing you.

“Not long… but they’re them. And I can’t stop myself falling under their spell when they make me feel so good. And they’re treating me so well, they go at my pace and when I’m with them- it sounds cheesy, but I feel complete… But I don’t want to hurry anyone. I mean its not like if things work out we can all be together- and I can’t imagine the rest of my life without them in it…” You whispered out, Kie’s fingers tucking strand after strand of your hair around, seemingly being the key to ease you enough to stop your mouth running at the same speed as your mind.

“Who says you can’t? Have you spoken to them about this? Have you even asked them about it?” She asked you, her voice soft in your ear as she continued to braid.

“You’re right… They might not even be interested in me. Like they could just be doing this to help out a friend… so the only person who could get hurt is me… well fuck…” you whined the last part and shook your head, until Kie gave your tresses a sharp tug and tisked.

“Not what I meant, its obvious those boys would literally die for you. I don’t know when it happened- but I’m pretty sure they both love you or are even in love with you..” she stated matter-of-factly. “I meant who says you can’t be with both of them? Nothing has to change between you guys… I mean you’re practically together with them as it is!” She exclaimed, it was you turn to scoff at her- and she gripped your shoulders, making you turn to look at her over your shoulder.

You stayed silent and mulled over her words; and even you couldn’t deny there was some truth ringing through them, when all of this started, it had never been awkward as you imagined it could be, and the euphoria you felt when you were with them was undeniable. You let your mind wander; the boys treated you with the utmost respect. Each showing they cared in their own way. Your heart pattered unevenly as you imagined your life with them both, and maybe Kie had a point, maybe it wouldn’t be all that different to how things were currently? As you were lost in your own mind, Kie had finished twisting your hair into two braids and was tying them off with hair ties. You breathed in deeply, and nodded to yourself.

“So how come I stopped him? Like what if I’m not ready?” you whispered out, the Carrera girl smiled and tugged on one of your braids.

“You’re ready, when you’re ready. It’s up to you and you said yourself he respected that when you asked him to stop… and its in your rules. You set the pace remember?” Kie stated holding your hand in her own and squeezing gently. You bit your lip and smiled at her, before dropping a kiss to her cheek and thanking her as you made your way back out of her window and into the heavy rain. You’d made up your mind, you wanted John B and JJ. And you needed to show them that, you would start with John B. So you made your way back to the chateau- the rain soon soaking you as your walk-jog to his place seemed to last a lifetime. Streets passing in a blur as the rain trickled into your eyes. When you finally made your way to the chateau, you felt like you were in a cheesy romcom scene; running to admit your love for the main character- slowing your pace even more and letting the rain truly soak you, you tried the shake the cliché from yourself as you entered the ramshackle home- no knocking necessary as the door was never locked to any of you, this place was as much your home as his. And there he was sprawled on the pull out, scrolling mindlessly on his phone as the tv played in the background, beer abandoned on the floor beside him and a half eaten pizza accompanying it. When you barged through the door, he shot up- eyes wide as he took in your drenched form.

“Y/N.. what the..?” he started as you took steps towards him, throwing your arms around his neck and pressing your soggy self against him as your lips found his. The kiss wasn’t rushed, it was passionate- it had that familiar languid pace which as John B entirely. His hands found their way to your cheeks and he cradled your face between them, his plush lips caressing your own, as his breathing became more laboured as the kiss continued until he could take it no longer and reluctantly pulled away from your lips- your lips soon missing the pressure of his and went searching for them.

“Not that I’m complaining, like at all, but what the hell are you doing coming here in this weather?” he whispered, not trusting his voice just yet- as his forehead rest against your own. His breath fanning across your face, as you panted lightly.

“I needed to see you. I ditched you and ran away from you like a little bitch cause I was scared… But I’m not scared anymore and I want you.. I want you to teach me my next lesson!” You stated softly, surging forwards and meeting his lips with your own once more. Your tongue traced over his bottom lip seeking entrance- and that was when he pulled away again, making you sigh in frustration.

“Are you sure?” He asked, eyes searching your own as he held your face delicately between his large hands. You rolled your eyes but smiled at the same time.

“At my pace right? Well this is me setting the pace… so take me to your bedroom and teach me Routledge…” You whispered, staring into his dark gaze as his eyes widened slightly- his mouth dropping open slightly.

“Yes Ma’am…” He murmured against your lips as his hands dropped from your face to grip your own and lead you through the house- he stumbled slightly every couple of steps as he was not only walking backwards but also connected to your lips and with his eyes closed, it was a minor miracle you both made it to his room without serious injury- instead the journey was filled with giggles muffled by kisses. Once in his room, his kisses became more- tongues tangling and teeth nipping, bottom lips were sucked and breathing began to race as fast the hearts beating within your chests. Your hands wandered him; tracing over the muscles of his shoulders, his biceps, his chest- the pounding of his heart underneath your palm, his abs- stomach tensing and twitching at the ticklish contact before settling on his waist and pulling him closer- so the entirety of your soaked front was pressed against his shirtless one. Goose bumps raising on expanse of you both. His lips met the corner of yours before venturing downwards and meeting the sensitive flesh of your neck- leaving wet kisses, his tongue flicking out before his teeth nibbled into the skin making sure to leave a faint ache there as a mark was delivered. He let his hands drift to your hips and tugged on the drenched and borrowed t-shirt you were wearing- he struggled to pull it up your body, the sopping material clinging to every part of you- it getting stuck on your head and made the pair of you split from each other as you worked in tandem to rid you of the shirt. You both laughed victoriously as the offensive fabric was tossed carelessly across the room as far away from you as possible. John B brushed some of the baby hairs- which had fallen loose from your braids during the struggle- before his fingers dug their way through the tangled tresses and pulled your lips needily against his own. He began to move you backwards until the back of your knees met the soft edge od his bed- he leaned into you until you tumbled back, him following and landing atop you.

Your kisses travelled along his pouty lips and chiselled jaw to his tanned neck, gentle and tickling kisses being left there. His fingers traced along the edge of the bra covering you from him, tips dipping below a cup and teasing your already hardened nipples- smoothing over it before flicking at it- causing it to harden more, his clothed hips thrusting against you own as the needy whine left your throat. His finger traced lower the calloused pads tickling against your stomach making giggles erupt from you and vibrate against him. his hand cupping and rubbing against you clothed core- leaving you wondering whether your panties were wet from the rain or the arousal coursing through you. His deft fingers found the button and the zipper on your shorts- undoing them both and moving to wriggle the sodden material down your hips and thighs before being removed from you entirely. One of his skilled hands found its way to your cloth covered core and began teasing you through the material as his lips claimed your own once more. His fingers tracing up and down you still covered slit- moving to rub figure eights onto you clothed clit- eliciting the most delicious moan he’d ever heard from you, continuing their ministrations the tips of his other fingers tugged the saturated material to the side before they ventured within your drenched folds. At the contact a high pitched whine echoed around you. His lips left yours to nip at your chest, chin nudging the cup of your bra out of his way as his plush lips captured your hardened peak- laving it with attention, his hand left your core the slide behind you and undo the irritating fabric, pulling it from your body and taking his time to marvel at you.

His fingers swiftly returned to your hips, tugging on the band of your underwear and pulling them too from your body, leaving you completely bare before him- making you skin heat in a flush that made him groan and bury his head in your neck marking up your pretty skin. Trailing his lips further down until they met the skin just under your breast- he let his attentions focus there as he left a more prominent mark, which wouldn’t be easily hidden in your usual summer attire and activities. His fingers moved between your slick folds, doing the most sinful of things- building you up, winding the coil deep within you belly tighter and tighter- your release so close, but just out of reach making you whine out frustratedly. John B chuckled huskily as his lips found yours again, his tongue working it’s way in to your mouth once more, teasing yours in a similar fashion to that of his fingers. And as he plunged his middle and ring finger within your slick entrance and began pumping with purpose you felt yourself teeter over the edge and the knot within you snapped with a high pitched keen- which was muffled by his pouty lips. his fingers pumped within you lazily- coaxing you through your high, as you hand began to wander down the expanse of him once more. One palm grazing against the prominent bulge within the confines of his shorts- you rubbed against him as he huffed out air and moaned in your ear- as his head fell to your shoulder. His reaction to your hands movements spurring you to unbutton and unzip him; before reaching into the tight fabric and meeting the soft flesh beneath, pulling a gasp from you at his lack of underwear. He pulled your hand from him, before kissing you swiftly on the lips once more before moving himself from you and tugging his shorts from his body- leaving him bare before your greedy gaze. He sprang free- the russet tip leaking, the slit glistening in the low lighting of the dark room- it was silent, barring your panting breaths and pounding hearts. You reached a hand towards him once more, but his hands clasped onto your wrists before you could make contact.

“Are you sure? We can stop now if you like…” He asked, dark gaze locked on yours- eyes searching for a response, you just smiled and nodded your head before cradling his chin and pulling his kiss swollen lips towards your own in a gentle kiss. When you parted, he puffed out the breath he had been holding and turned to his bedside table, delving a hand within and retrieving the small foil packet. He held it up for you to see, and you reached forward and took it from his hand- holding it within your sweaty one. You ripped the packaging open and proceeded to pull the protection from its confines, before manoeuvring it to roll onto his awaiting member, rolling down his length and pumping him a couple of times before kissing his lips gently once more. you then moved to lay back on the bead- head resting against the pillows that smelled of him, your heart racing with anticipation as his fingers delved within you once more- gathering some of your slick and coating himself with it, letting his fingers linger and tease you for a short time before sliding himself up and ontop of you, his hips nestling between your spread legs, his weight being supported by one of his strong arms beside your head as the other hand laved your most intimate area with attention- his lips seeking your own in a searing kiss as he began to push into you. You hissed at the feeling, it wasn’t necessarily painful, but it was kind of uncomfortable- it was a strange feeling to be connected with him, as you felt full almost complete as he pushed further into you. His lips leaving your to pepper soft kisses around your face and neck, before he buried his head in the crook of your neck as he bottomed out within. He fought the urge to begin moving before you were ready, waiting for you to tilt your hips to urge him on. And once he had that confirmation, he pulled back agonisingly slowly before pushing back in at the same pace. He slid within you easily, your slick coating him, and your thighs as he moved at a languid pace.

Your moan loud in his ear as you became accustomed to surrounding him in the most intimate of ways, urging him to move faster- his hips surging forwards and retreating at a quicker pace as his own moans flooded the room. A giggle escaping you as you felt yourself succumb to the pleasure and dig your nails into the tan flesh of his back, leaving a white trail as you dragged them down before they met the curve of his ass. Your hands resting there and then grabbing a cheek in each hand and pushing him closer to you. John B got the message and whined out as his hips began a punishing rhythm, his hips slapping against your own- skin meeting skin and lips meeting lips as he climbed closer to his peak. He was reaching his end, but he knew you were nowhere near, and so he tried to hold himself back, but the warm, welcoming tightness encompassing him was too much, his rhythm faltered and his hips moved erratically as he reached the peak.

“Y/N..”was groaned sinfully in your ear as he emptied into the protection. You stroked your hands down his back and hair as he calmed from the high. His spent body collapsing atop your own. His weight a comfort as your calming touch tried to ease your racing hearts. All too soon he was sliding himself from you with a sickening squelching sound, he slide down your body and you leaned yourself up onto your elbows curiously as you watched him bury his head between your thighs, and as his tongue met your sensitive and slick flesh a gasp left your kiss-swollen lips. He licked along your lower lips. He then dove in- tongue tasting you- licking and caressing you the way his lips had done elsewhere. Your breathing becoming laboured at the sensations on your already stimulated core. He focused lips on your sensitive nub, lips closing around it and suckling gently making you whine. His lips and tongue worked you as if telling your core the most salacious secrets, you were reaching your end. The familiar tightening in your belly becoming almost too much to bear as your legs went numb, a truly sinful noise leaving your delicate lips- almost had him hardening at the sound. He let his tongue and lips clean you of your juices before his head reappeared from the depths of your thighs. His plush lips and chin glistening with the evidence of your orgasm. He wiped at his chin with he back of his hand- but left the slick on his lips as he met yours in a sordid kiss; letting you taste yourself on him, to him you were the sweetest nectar, and he wanted to share it with you. As your lazy kisses became pecks- he pushed himself away from you, moving around the room, he discarded of the used condom in the small trash bin near the door- before leaving the room, and as you watched his back move away from you. A panic settled within your chest- as your mind replayed the image of him walking away from you in your minds eye, until his smiling face re-entered the bedroom his hands holding a washcloth, which he used to clean you sensitive core properly. Before tossing it away into some unknown corner of the room- he then jumped onto the bouncy bed beside you and laid back. Wrapping his arms around your shoulders he tugged you to lay atop him, your ear pressed to his chest. And he kissed you gently; your forehead, your cheeks, your eyelids, your nose, your jaw and then finally your lips. the kiss was soft- but was full of the emotions John B was bursting to tell you, but couldn’t, not yet. So for now the gentle kiss sufficed, as the two of your succumbed to a peaceful sleep.

[redinkofshame]

One of my favorite scenes I've been saving forever. It was supposed to be the Epilogue of the Marigolds sequel, then I moved it to Prologue of the post-canon fic. Now it's here.

Keria commits many stupid drastic, desperate things in her effort to stop Solas and save the world. It takes a lot to take down a god.

content warning: faint suicide ideation, drug addiction (lyrium)

The Oncoming Storm

Keria stepped out of the Fade and into the Storm Coast, immediately buffeted by wind and icy rain. This was easily one of her favorite discoveries during her time as Inquisitor; a place where it stormed more often than not. She loved a good storm.

She tilted her head back to the skies for one peaceful moment, listening to the comforting rumble of thunder overhead.

Then she got back to work.

Down she went, into the Fissure she’d once explored when she still held that title, though after they had defeated Corypheus. After he had left.

She put thoughts of Solas out of her mind. The important part was that he had not been there to see the Inquisition seek out the source of an earthquake and find themselves inside a titan.

Not that his spies wouldn’t have reported as much, of course, and no doubt he knew more about titans than anyone else alive… But he wouldn’t know the particulars, and with any luck wouldn’t have sent anyone to watch over it.

As she passed the encampment where once an expedition table had been set up the flashes of memories that came with it made her blood run hot then cold with betrayal — not Solas that time. Cullen. She’d thought they’d been finally starting to understand each other when he’d proposed a mission: to have troops patrol the area to ‘keep the Sha-Brytol from becoming a threat to the Inquisition’s interests by taking the area over completely’.

For years she and that human had worked to build a tentative trust, all for it to shatter when he thought nothing of using troops to slaughter people protecting their home from invaders, all because they were inconvenient — as if he’d learned nothing from when his troops had surprised Clan Lavellan, leading to bloodshed.

Interesting. When had she started thinking of them as ‘Clan Lavellan’ and not just ‘her clan’?

She reached up and brushed her lone hand over where her vallaslin had once been and moved on. Moving as silently as possible she moved down, down, and down further still, following the scent of lyrium and brine, only skirmishing with a handful of darkspawn in Thaig Heidrun before she reached her target.

In the uncharted abyss she found it: the Bastion of the Pure.

She was equally awed by it as she had been last time she was here. Electricity hung in the air from the lyrium veins that looked like blue lightning frozen in time, and a vast underground sea crashed endlessly against the rocks. At least she assumed it was vast; darkness swallowed it up, making it too hard to guess how deep or wide it might be. The waves didn’t move like the tides of the ocean pulled by the moons. The air was full of mist but no wind, and yet the waves surged, high and erratic, a dangerous storm strong enough to sink a dreadnought with ease.

The phenomenon had not been studied, but she could feel the distilled lyrium in the ancient waters, as if they’d become more saturated with mana with each passing century. If she had to guess she’d say it was simply too much energy to be contained calmly.

She’d been eager to get a closer look when they’d been here before, but her party, knowing how she was with water, had kept her firmly away, citing that it wasn’t safe to get close to the edge. Which is wasn’t. But they weren’t here to stop her this time.

It was a stupid thing to do — what if she fell in, never to be seen again? She was the best chance they had for saving the world. Again.

Well, if she died and the veil fell and swallowed up all of Thedas she wouldn’t be around to care. Besides, it would serve him right, always wondering and never knowing what had happened to her, in the end.

‘I will never forget you.’

The first thing she did was tie a rope around a stalagmite and then around her waist. She wasn’t completely suicidal. Then she pulled out her satchel of empty vials and approached the surging waters carefully, hearing Cassandra’s warnings about how slippery the wet stone was, and Varric’s complaints that it wasn’t worth it. She was pretty sure Dorian would be secretly pleased over the samples, though. She would send him some.

She was soaked head-to-toe before the first vial was full, and she could feel the energy seeping into her skin. It wasn’t as cold as she’d expected.

As far as they could tell, he could watch them from anywhere, at any time. Perhaps he was scrying… Or perhaps he simply visited her allies in their dreams and pulled out their memories just as a demon would, the dream fading away upon waking so they’d never suspect a thing.

Whatever the case, she couldn’t let her beloved watch her. If he knew where she was and what she was planning at any given time, there’d be no point in even trying. She’d grown increasingly strong in her awareness in the Fade and ability to traverse it — in fact she was quite pleased with how she could Fade-step for miles now — but she couldn’t rely on that alone. Instead she relied on shrouds of protection and obfuscation spells. Layers of them.

They were a constant draw on her energy, but she didn’t dare ease up on them for a single moment. Which meant she’d come to rely on mana potions to keep her going. Which meant ingesting lyrium.

It had started with just one every couple of days, then every day, then several times a day… She knew she was so in so deep the withdrawals would probably kill her now. Another reason, perhaps, that she avoided her former commander. She didn’t need the lecture. What was a little lyrium addiction when it came to saving the world?

Mana potions and the raw lyrium to make them were expensive, though. During the days of the Inquisition they had a steady supply that they used only sparingly, leading to a surplus that she’d refused to give up when the Inquisition had disbanded and Skyhold had been abandoned. That has been nearly a year ago now, though, and the surplus was long gone. There was only so much Varric could do to keep her supplied.

And so, when her hands started shaking with need as the water seeped into her skin and hit her blood stream, she decided she wasn’t going to wait for Dagna to analyze it. The first vial she filled she immediately emptied, swallowing it down before she had a chance to second guess herself.

It was even saltier than she’d expected, but the saline taste was easy to ignore when the energy flooded through her. It was good. Really good. Better than anything the Carta had. Keria felt better and more awake than she had in months.

She could tell it was strong enough to cause an overdose in anyone else — if she hadn’t been building a resistance for the last year it probably would have killed her. At least she wouldn’t have to share. She eagerly bottled more, using the satchel of empties she’d saved, only taking another sip here and there. It was a relief that they weren’t going to have to find a way to mine the stuff, or find a way to go without.

When her soggy satchel was full she used the drenched rope to pull herself back to relative safety, belatedly remembering to look out for the Sha-Brytol. The coast was still clear, luckily, and it was time to go.

But…

Her feet stilled before she reached the entrance to the tunnel that led up. She stared up at a large vein, shining such a bright blue in the relative dimness that she had to squint past the stars in her eyes. Then her glance drifted to a much smaller one beside it.

She tentatively ran her palm against it, and it sang beneath her hand.

She tilted her head, and focused on the voices that haunted her. In the time since she’d drank from the Well of Sorrows she’d barely improved her ability to understand them, though she was much better at shutting them out so they wouldn’t drive her to madness at least. Still, she tried to consult their wisdom, listening close and trying to parse the whispered words of her nearly-forgotten language.

She wasn’t sure if she was hoping they’d talk her into it or out of it, and when the answer was not forthcoming she pushed them back in disgust. Useless. If she was a better mage, a better elf, maybe she could head their advice…

But she was a broken shell of a Dalish First, and she had only her own hard-won wisdom to guide her.

Fuck it. She’d come this far.

Her hand shot out and wrapped around the small vein.

Whether she’d screamed out loud or only in her mind she could not say, the energy in the vein lancing into her, drawn to the excess that already swam in her blood, overwhelming her senses until all she knew was blinding light and pain. She fought to release her grip and it felt like an eternity before she managed to stagger back.

It felt as if her heart was struggling to beat in her chest but she forced her eyes open. Immediately she saw a pair of shining blue eyes of the Sha-Brytol reflecting off the wet stone in front of her and she whirled, hand raised… And saw nothing. She could hear nothing past the uneven pulse of in her ears and she felt dizzy as she turned back.

She blinked, and the reflection of eyes blinked back. It wasn’t the Sha-Brytol; it was her own eyes shining back at her.

She blinked several more times, expecting the glowing to fade, but it remained steady. She dug in her pack for a rejuvenation potion and swallowed it, just in case. As her heart and her breath steadied as well she realized that she felt powerful. It no longer hurt, and it didn’t feel like a foreign substance the way mana potions once had. The strength had become her.

She’d never become a god, an evanuris, would never be as powerful as her adversary… but she could certainly see why the assholes had let it go to their heads.

The small vein was now dim and lifeless, but she still heard no footsteps in the distance, so it seemed the titan didn’t notice such a small injury. So one more couldn’t hurt, right?

She reached for another vein.

[the-iceni-bitch]

A Warm Fire

Pairing: Valkyrie/Brunnhilde/Fem-Reader

Word Count: 3876

Summary: Val helps you warm up after you get caught in a storm.

Warnings: Fluff, Spoilers for Avengers: Infinity War and Endgame (erring on the safe side with this one), Explicit language, explicit sexual content (oral sex- f receiving, scissoring, fingering) SMUT, 18+

A/N: I’ve decided for my b-day week I want to bless all you sweet bitches with a brand new smutty fic each day. My holes are worn out from all the rough himbo sex I’ve been throwing at you, so today I wanted to soften things up with something for my WLW ladies. I sub for no man, but Val could spit in my mouth and turn me into a housewife!

“Well, fuck.” You sighed.

You had hoped you’d be able to outrun the storm you saw rolling in off the coast on your weekly trip to New Asgard but hadn’t even been driving for an hour when lightning started streaking across the sky and the clouds let loose a deluge that had your ancient pickup’s wipers maxed out. You couldn’t even see 20 feet in front of you and slammed on the brakes suddenly when you came upon a massive tree blocking the road. The engine stalled out and you had now been trying to turn it over for 10 minutes with no luck.

You had thankfully been able to contact Aud and Sigurd and have them bring your animals in and batten down the barn, but there was no way you were making it back tonight. You resigned yourself to sleeping in your front seat when a pile of rocks reared out of no where and tapped on your window, causing you to let out a shriek.

“Everything ok in there?”

“Jesus Christ, Korg, what are you doing out here?”

The massive Kronan straightened back up and you thought you saw his brow furrow before his face split open in a wide grin.

“Y/N, excellent! Some of us got concerned once the storm rolled in and Val sent out a group to make sure you made it off of the Fjord ok.”

“Ok, well clearly this piece of shit is not cut out for Skagerrak storms.” You told him as you stepped out into the deluge, pulling your parka around you tightly as the wind tried to whip your hood off. “I don’t suppose you drove here in any sort of vehicle?”

“As a matter of fact, Miek drove the Jeep.”

“I’m sorry, Miek drove?” The thought of the Sakaarian larval creature driving a vehicle filled you with equal parts horror and mirth. “Do you mind if I drive us back?”

“Probably for the best. I told him that knife hands are not conducive for steering but you know he doesn’t listen to me.”

You let out a laugh as Korg lumbered into the large trailer hooked to the back of the Jeep, causing it to sink into the mud a bit. Miek scooted into the passenger seat as you turned the vehicle around and started to head back to Tønsberg.

Your cautious driving extended the trip by a good 45 minutes. The thunder had stopped but it was still pouring as you parked the jeep in one of the converted stables. Korg and Miek gave you a wave as they headed back to Thor’s, Korg carrying 3 of the pallets of Aquavit you had brought with you earlier.

You headed towards the town square and saw Brunnhilde leaning against the posts in front of her small brick house, watching the storm that was still raging out at sea before she saw you and broke out in a grin.

“Y/N, I told you not to head out in this! That piece of shit truck of yours give out on you?”

“What do you think, Hilde? I just decided to walk all the back to your house for fun in this?” You shook out your hair as the two of you stepped inside, spraying her with a thin mist of rainwater.

“Ah, you bitch! Get out of those wet clothes, I got a fire started and some dry towels and blankets set out for you. Want a hot toddy?”

You winced at the thought as you started peeling yourself out of your soaked jeans. “I’d like to be able to wake up tomorrow hon. Your hot toddys are literally just a hot mug of Aquavit with a slice of lemon.” You cursed yourself silently for introducing the Asgardians to the spicy Scandinavian liquor that you now had to truck in every week. While it was extremely lucrative, they now put it in everything.

Hilde sauntered back into the main room carrying two steaming mugs as you wrapped yourself in a wool blanket and settled in front of the fire, wearing only your bra and panties.

She rolled her eyes at you and handed you a mug, which you took a wary sniff of and were pleasantly surprised to find it was just peppermint tea.

“You’re just a lightweight.” She said as she curled up in her armchair, wrapping one hand around her mug while the other picked up the worn book that was sitting on the end table.

“How do you like it so far?” You asked her, sipping your tea slowly as you waited for it to cool.

“The writing is lovely, but it’s pretty inaccurate.”

The friendship the two of you had built over the past 3 years was something truly lovely. When she and the rest of the refugees had landed, after the snap, they were all hollow shells of grief. Thor shut himself away almost immediately, and Hilde found herself thrust into a position of leadership she had never wanted. All of them wanted nothing more than to be left alone with their sorrows, doing just enough to keep themselves alive.

The first storm off the Skaggerak had almost devastated their new home though, and when she contacted Banner for help, he called you. You still kept in touch after your years together at university, and he knew you had settled somewhere in Norway and could arrive to lend a hand faster than he could.

Your arrival brought some much needed distraction to their sleepy town. You had managed to round up a group of your Norwegian neighbors, along with some fellow expats, and set about making the necessary changes to assure that New Asgard would be a thriving community. While the rest of your group set to restructuring architecture, and teaching the town’s new inhabitants the necessities of a seaside existence on the windy Fjord, you began the slow process of helping the refugees move on from their sorrow.

Your anthropology doctorate was specialized in Norse culture, after all, and you would often bring small reminders of their lost home with you whenever you came to visit. Whether it was a collection of replicated Talharpas, Skalmejens, and Lurs to give to the children to learn music or a large cache of drinking horns to stock their taverns, every time your truck came lumbering down the hills, Brunnhilde watched the faces of her citizens light up with anticipation for some new pleasant surprise. When you arrived with your first load of Aquavit and spent the night drinking with them and singing the drinking songs they knew well, you were all but confirmed as an honorary Asgardian. Your haunting rendition of Lilja actually brought tears to a few eyes.

Brunnhilde made sure to let you know how grateful she was as much as possible. She would always have some small gift for you when you arrived, but all you asked her for was to sit and talk, discussing the history of Asgard and the nine realms as you scribbled copious notes. She loved watching your face screw up in concentration as you bent over one of your notebooks, one stubborn lock of hair falling into your face.

She laughed to herself softly now as she remembered the visit a few weeks ago when she had first introduced you to her winged steed, Aragorn. Your look of awe had been replaced quickly with uncontrollable laughter when she had told you his name. You refused to tell her what was so funny, but she was determined to get it out of you at some point.

You had brought your original copy of Snorri’s Edda the next week, and she had read it through 3 times already.

She ran her hands softly over the spine of the book before tossing back the rest of her toddy and setting the book and her mug back on the end table before sinking to the floor behind you and nuzzling herself into your hair, sighing as she inhaled the scent of fresh rain.

You leaned back into her slowly, giving a soft hum of contentedness. She slipped the blanket off of your shoulders to pool around your waist as she left a trail of soft kisses down your neck, before softly raising a bruise into your collarbone with her mouth.

The moan you gave her made her grin against your skin, and she slipped one hand into the front of your bra, softly drawing her fingers across your nipple.

“Fuck, Hilde!” you pressed your chest further into her hand as her other moved behind you to unhook your bra and slip it off your shoulders, freeing your breasts. She felt your nipples harden against her fingers as she turned your head and slowly teased your mouth open with her tongue.

“Eyes open, pretty girl.” She whispered as her left hand continued to palm at your breast and roll your nipple between her fingers. You stared at her through your lashes as she brought her right hand up and put her index and middle finger in your mouth. You gave them a soft nip before sucking and swirling your tongue around them slowly.

She grinned at you wickedly as she dragged her soaked fingers down your torso at an agonizing pace, leaving a thin trail of your saliva before she tucked them under the edge of your panties and dragged them over your sopping cunt, separating the soft folds there to tease against your entrance.

“Oh, poor baby, look how much this pussy missed me?” She said as you let out a thin keen, screwing your eyes shut and dropping your head against her neck. She slapped your tit suddenly and tweaked your nipple hard, making you gasp. “You better keep those eyes open if you want me to let you come sweetheart. You want me to stretch this pretty pussy around my fingers and make you feel good?”

“Yes, god” you let out breathlessly, forcing your eyes open as she studied your face.

“Ah, ah, ask nicely.”

“Yes please.” You hissed as her fingers continued to tease at your folds, lightly brushing against your clit.

“Good girl”

She slipped one finger inside of you slowly and you immediately clenched around it as she pressed it against that soft spongy spot.

“Ooh, honey. You’re so fucking tight, I’m gonna stretch you out so good.” She whispered against your lips as she kissed you softly.

Her second finger slipped in easily and she started fucking them into you slowly, pressing her palm against your clit as she did so and your arousal seeped all over her hand. Your breath was hitching in your chest as she increased her pace.

You felt yourself flutter around her and it took all of your willpower to not screw your eyes shut and drop against her shoulder. You ground yourself against her hand as she suddenly slowed down, hungry for more friction.

“You want me to add another finger, sweet girl?” She asked slyly, teasing her promise against your entrance.

You didn’t trust yourself to speak so you nodded at her, your chest heaving as she continued palming your breast and you felt a resounding shiver in your core.

“You’re lucky I’m soft on you sweetie, I should be making you beg for this.” She murmured as she shoved all three of her fingers in suddenly, causing you to let out a small cry as she started fucking them into you at a rough speed. “I’m just finishing you off so I can feel this sweet mouth of yours on my cunt. You want to taste me baby?”

“Shit, Hilde!” The thought of her taste on your tongue sent you over the edge as she drove her palm into your clit one last time and you released around her, fluttering as you soaked her hand. Her strong arms held you still as your orgasm wracked you and every muscle trembled. Once you had ridden it out, she drew her hand out of your ruined panties to suck on her fingers.

“Mmm, you taste so good honey. Don’t you think?” She placed her mouth on yours and pressed her tongue against yours and you moaned as you tasted your own release.

“Help me out of my clothes baby, I need to ride that pretty face.”

She climbed around you and settled into your lap, kissing you deeply and making happy little humming sounds. You drew her sweater up over her head and tossed it aside, and were pleasantly surprised to see she wasn’t wearing a bra. You gave her a wicked grin before lifting her up and pressing her chest to your face, latching your mouth to one of her nipples as your hands cupped her ass through her leggings. She gave a light laugh and tossed her head back as her fingers carded themselves through your hair. You brought one of your hands between the two of you, shoving it down the front of her leggings and drawing your fingers through her slick, making her gasp.

“God, baby, you’re so fucking greedy.” She laughed lightly as you peppered her chest with kisses, occasionally creating some light suction with your tongue to raise a light bruise. “Mmm, you know just what to do, but I want to come all over that beautiful face of yours.”

You smiled against her chest as you gently nuzzled yourself between her breasts before falling back abruptly and making her gasp.

“You are being such a trouble maker, today, Y/N. Fine, I’m going grind your pussy so good before I rub that smirk off your face with my cunt.”

She sat up between your legs a drew your soaked panties off before removing her own leggings. She stretched your right leg off to the side and lightly drew her fingers up the inside of your thigh, removing them right before she reached your quivering pussy and making you whine.

“Don’t be a brat baby. Look at this pretty pussy, just weeping for me.” She stared at your swollen cunt with a grin as she hooked a hand under your left knee and positioned herself so she was straddling you, her soft folds just kissing yours as she hovered there. “You want to feel my pussy on yours, baby? Want me to grind that clit so good? You better fucking beg for it.”

“Oh god, pleasepleaseplease…” you let out in a hiss as she pressed herself down and ground herself into you.

“Mmm, I feel that sweet pussy quivering for me. God, you’re like my own fucking vibrator.” She kept twisting her hips into yours, hitting you at that perfect angle each time and making you mewl and whimper unintelligibly as she edged you closer to your release. She unbent your right leg slowly, running her thumb up your calf before nipping at the pad of your big toe, making you arch into her. “No no, sweetheart, isn’t it so much better when you hold still? You know I’ll take care of you.”

She stretched your right leg out so you were wide open and pinned your thighs down with her hands as she picked up the pace. She bit her lip and gazed down at you through hooded eyes and you felt her core twitch against yours. One more drive of her hips and you came apart at the same time, your releases mixing together to coat the insides of your thighs. You let out a scream while she just gasped, still managing to hold you down as your pleasure wracked through you and you wound your hands into the blanket beside you for some kind of anchor.

“Fuck baby, this pussy is so good to me. I wanna run my tongue over this pretty cunt while I ride your face. You better be good for me.”

She twisted herself around to straddle your face. You softly nipped at her left cheek then gave her ass a slap, making her yelp, and she responded by smacking your pussy twice before grinding into your face.

“Oohh, are you going to be a bad girl?” She scolded you as you wrapped your arms around her thighs and teased her folds with your tongue. “Am I going to have to edge you all nigh… Fuck!!” Your tongue found her entrance and you moaned into her cunt, causing vibrations that made her clench against your face. “God, baby, you’re so good at that. Your miss this pussy so bad, look at the mess you’re making.” She separated your folds and softly blew against your clit before shoving three fingers into you with no preparation. “Mmm, you’re fucking ready for me sweetheart, I’m barely even stretching you now. You want me to add another finger?”

She gave your clit another soft slap and you came suddenly, legs and core trembling as you clenched and released around her fingers. You tried to come up for air, but Hilde just ground her hips into your face.

“Na-ah.” She scolded you. “You wanted to get fresh with me and now you better make me come if you want to breathe. You get to work. I’m going to wring every ounce of pleasure out of this pussy until you give me what I want, I don’t care if you pass out.”

She inserted a fourth finger into your canal and started to fuck them all into you, flicking soft kitten licks against your small bundle of nerves before she latched onto it, sucking hard.

Tears started streaming down your face as another orgasm ripped through you. You were starting to feel light-headed from a mixture of pleasure and oxygen deprivation. She drew her tongue slowly up and down your entrance while her fingers kept moving inside you, doing her best to lap up your release before her tongue went back to massaging your clit.

You barely skimmed your teeth against her clit and she let out a soft cry against you, slapping your pussy in response and making you come again. You shook your head to bury yourself deeper into her folds and fought off the urge to pass out before shoving your tongue into her pussy and bringing your fingers up to rub harsh circles into her tiny apex of pleasure.

She collapsed against you at the sudden change in sensation with a gasp before she rose up to really grind into you.

You started fucking your tongue in and out of her, making sure to press it against her g-spot each time and felt her thighs tense around your face.

“God baby, don’t fucking stop. Fuck, just like that, right there. That tongue of yours is so fucking good. You’re so fucking good. Feels so good.” You knew when she started babbling breathlessly like this she was close. She brought one of her hands up to palm her breast as her other gripped the wrist of the hand you had working her clit, making sure you didn’t move away.

Just as the edges of your vision started to close in, you felt her core vibrate and her cunt clenched around your tongue as her release gushed into your mouth. The only sound she made was a rapid breathless pant and she rolled off of you slowly, finally allowing you to suck in oxygen as stars swam behind your vision. You did your best to catch your breath as you felt her stretch languidly beside you before she sat up to stare at you.

“Fuck, baby. I don’t know why I let you take this pussy away from me. I know you just lay there by yourself every night dreaming of my fingers buried in you.” She slowly drew a hand along your slit and you groaned when she brushed against your overstimulated clit. “Just swollen and crying for me. Whose pussy is this baby?” She asked you, curling her fingers against your mound.

You knew if you didn’t tell her what she wanted to hear, she would wring it out of you, and if you had any more orgasms you were going to pass out. “Yours, baby.” You murmured, staring at her through your eyelashes.

“Good girl.” She patted your cunt twice, making you twitch, before she bent down and kissed you softly.

She stood up and collected your mugs and brought them back into the kitchen, wiggling her ass at you when she felt you watching her, making you laugh.

“Can you throw some more logs on the fire, Y/N? I’ll grab us some clean blankets and pillows and we can sleep out here.”

“Yes ma’am.” You called back to her, breaking the current logs apart with the poker before adding three new ones and stoking it. You gathered your discarded clothes and the soiled blanket in a bundle and headed to the bathroom to put them in the hamper and run a damp towel against your sex to clean up, bringing another out with you as you headed back to the fire, where Hilde had piled a ridiculous amount of blankets and pillows in a massive nest for the two of you.

You sank down next to her and she drew your face to hers for a kiss. You smiled against her lips as you gently drew the soft towel you had brought with you over her cunt and along her thighs to clean her off as she gave a contented sigh.

“Stay.” She said softly, nuzzling softly into your neck as you held her against her chest and slowly sank back against the pile of cushions, giving her hair a soft kiss.

“Hilde, the road is out, I’m not going anywhere until tomorrow.”

“No, Y/N. Stay. Move here with me. I need you.” She looked up at you with genuine pleading in her eyes. You had never seen such open emotion on her face before.

You only had to think about it for a minute. The weeks between your trips were always spent planning your next visit. Thinking over what you wanted to talk to Hilde about. Your bed felt empty without her there.

“I need you too baby. I love you.” You whispered to her, tipping her chin up to look into her eyes as you gave her a gentle smile.

Her face split into a grin. “Is that a yes?”

“Of course, Hilde.”

“Oh god, Y/N, I love you too!” She drew your face down to hers and kissed you deeply, clutching you to her needily before releasing you with a grin. “I miss that pussy almost as much as it misses me.”

You laughed at that and laid back with a sigh. Hilde rested her head between your breasts and brought her hands close around your sides, pulling the thick wool blanket around the two of you tightly.

“Just make sure Miek doesn’t try to fight my sheep again.” You whispered to her, running a hand softly up and down her back.

“That was a misunderstanding.” She smiled against you as her breathing slowed and deepened, and she sunk closer to sleep.

The two of you laid there intertwined for the rest of the night, drifting off as the fire crackled and died. You had never felt so content in your life.

[heavenunderthemoon]

hi umm i love your work! could you do a jj x daughter reader where readers is like 16/17 and she's so scared that her mom might not come home one day :( thank you! & take ur time :)))

“I’ll Always Need you” (JJ x daughter!reader) 

warnings- angsty? mentions of death and gun violence 

kind of short, hope you enjoy!!!

xxTobin

The analog clock on the eastern wall of the Jareau household ticked agonizingly slow, mocking you as time went on. It was teasing you, the seconds, minutes, and hours passing by without hesitation, when you felt as though your own world had stopped long ago.

The rest of the household was silent, Henry being put to bed long ago, Will only going to sleep a couple of hours ago.

"She's okay-"

"Okay?! You call being shot in the shoulder okay?" Your voice was a high screech and Will moved to shut Henry's door, ushering you to the living room as he shook his head. Your mother had been deployed on a rather long case, one of the longest yet. For almost two weeks it had just been him, you, and Henry. His exhaustion was evident on his face illuminated only by the lamp on the end table. It was a gift from Penelope, something she had found at a flea market. The base of the lamp was flower petals, roses, because she knew they were your others favorite. JJ loved it, claiming the spot on the couch beside it as her 'reading spot'. How often had you curled up next to her, placing your head in her lap as she read to you softly? Even as you grew older, sixteen years of life molding you into a young woman- one that should've been too old to sit on their mother's lap- she did so without resistance because what if the day came that you no longer wanted her to hold you?

If she had ever voiced that thought to you, you would've thought it absurd. Would a day ever come that you didn't need her? That you didn't need your mother? Impossible, you thought instantly, because you needed your mother, you always would. You needed someone to wake you up in the morning, shaking your shoulder gently as their lips came down to touch gently upon your forehead. You needed someone who had a strange ability to know where everything you inevitably lost is (she had an unbelievable knack for knowing where you left things). You needed someone to tell you about their day, tell you things that made them think of you, tell you that they missed you, tell you that they loved you more- even if you thought it impossible. You needed someone who cooked spaghetti with a hilariously poor Italian accent, just because they knew it made you laugh. You needed someone to scream at the refs during soccer games and eventually get thrown out, just because they were on your side that badly.

And when your mother was away, you had Will, and he would gladly do all of those things, but you didn't want him to. You wanted your mother to, and what if one day, she wasn't here to do them? What if, one day, she were to go away on a case, and never come back?

That thought was intensified by the news of your mother's injury, and it consumed your body in a mass panic.

"She's fine, I promise. She's not even gonna be home until real late tonight- heck, might even be early morning- just go to bed-" He was trying, really, he was. The pleading look on his face, the hand on your arm, the understanding smile- because he understood. Truly, he did. He understood what it was like to worry about JJ. Jennifer Jareau, a woman who would always choose to be a hero, something that both attracted him to her and terrified him simultaneously. But, the sixteen year old before him shouldn't have to worry like he did.

You scoffed. Later, you would feel badly about how dismissive you were being but, then again, you had been this way all week. Crabby, moody, and agitated, all because your mother wasn't here with you. How childish, you thought, but truthfully, you didn't care.

"I'm not going to bed, I'm waiting for her." And when you said that, your face screwed into one of determination, persistence, and straight up stubbornness, Will saw just how much you took after your mother. He saw it often enough. He saw her in you whenever you ate breakfast. You had a nasty habit of inhaling your food as soon as it was set in front of you- he could swear that if he entered the Jareau women into a competitive food eating contest the two of you would win. He saw her in you when you played soccer, that look of competitiveness, that god awful smirk and that smug look you got when you won. He saw it when you plated with Henry at the park, the protectiveness, the tight hold on his hand, that look in your eyes that made him think you might never let go. And to see it now made him know that he wasn't going to win this fight.

With a sigh, he had lowered his head in defeat, squeezing your shoulder and wishing you a goodnight.

And now the seconds were tantalizingly slow as you sat in your mother's reading spot, the cushions just a little bit colder without her there.

The sound of the key turning in the lock jarred you from your thought filled stupor, your sock clad feet on the ground in seconds.

JJ was hobbling through the doorway, her bags hanging on one shoulder causing her entire body to droop to one side. If it had been any other circumstance you might've teased her for it, maybe you would have made a reference to Hunchback of Notre Dame, or Igor, or anything else that would have made her laugh, but your eyes were glued onto the bandages wrapped around her free arm.

Her blue orbs traced the source of the light. It wasn't abnormal for it to be on when she came home. You had an unspoken tradition to leave her lamp light on when she was gone, a way to keep her with you she she wasn't there, but you standing before it was new, especially at 4:30 A.M. on a school night.

She would've yelled. She was just about to, actually. She was about to hiss some motherly threat, some kind of 'go to bed' order that, when demanded correctly, had you listening instantly. But she didn't. She didn't do that because the look on your face, pale and ashen, had morphed into one of relief whenever you saw her.

She dropped her bags onto the floor, opening her arms and allowing you to run into them. She let out a small grunt when your body collided with hers, and you lessened your hold slightly, afraid you might've hurt her. That is, until she squeezed you harder, her hand coming to cup your head. Your nose buried into her shoulder, and you felt childish all over again.

"You waited up for me?" She didn't sound mad. She wasn't. She was worried. Worried for you.

Guilt washed over you in waves and you just burrowed yourself farther into her. "You're hurt." Was all you said, and she nodded.

The only light int he house was that rose petal ridden lamp. "I'm okay."

Oh, how long she could've held you in her arms. She thought back to those days. The nights of just you and her, the endless sleepovers, the never-ending tea parties, the countless games of hide-and-seek. How had you grown up on her?

The whispered reassurance made you frown, pulling away. You fell back onto the couch, arms hooking around your knees, and she fell back with you, tossing an arm around you.

"What if you weren't? What if you had died?" It was barely a whisper, weak and broken. You rested you rhino onto your nee, staring into your mother's eyes so long as she let you. The fears wouldn't subside, wouldn't stop crashing over you with a stupendous amount of strength, burying you in them, controlling your thoughts, feelings, actions.

Now, JJ was frowning. "I didn't."

"But what if you did? You go on these cases every week, and you get shot at." You winced when you said shot, eyes landing on the bandaged arm. JJ folded it into herself, pursing her lips. She wished you weren't in pain, she wished you weren't so scared because this fear wasn't something for you it was something for her. Your fears were about her, and it was about something she couldn't control. And it would have been so much better if she was able to control it, if it were a monster or a bad guy, because she hunted those for a living. But this wasn't a tangible thing. This was a feeling, and she couldn't fight feelings.  "You promised you would stay safe." Your voice cracked, lip trembling.

And what was JJ to say? She had. She had promised you, just like she did on every case before that. She promised she would try, but didn't she? Hadn't she tried? That counted for something. Looking at your face now, the tear tracks fresh as they ran down your cheeks, she supposed it didn't count for anything. That it wasn't enough. That nothing would ever be enough.

"You're gonna die one day." You spoke again, and this time it wasn't a tone of sadness, or fear. It was a statement. "You're gonna die one day, and then what am I gonna do without you?"

It sounded selfish, and whiny, and petulant, but none of that mattered. All that mattered was her. All that mattered was the nights you had spent in her bed, waiting out a terrible storm, counting the lightning strikes until you fell asleep, her hand in yours. All that mattered was your pleas for her to not let go when you learned to ride a bike, that fear of falling consuming you until you had heard whooping and hollering and turned to find her yards away, that proud smile on her face that you could swear was the brightest thing in the world. All that mattered was career days, dressing up like her, your collared shirts ironed and crisp, and when the teachers asked if you wanted to be a media liaison you didn't bat an eye as you responded that you didn't care what you were, as long as you were like your mom. All that mattered was a strong woman, the strongest you thought you would ever find, and her vulnerability, because unlike what you thought when you were younger, she wasn't immortal.

JJ's breath hitched, bringing her hand out to wipe a freshly fallen tear. Her hand was warm, and you leant into the touch. "I'm not dying for a long, long time. And, by then, you'll be all grown up, and you won't need me anymore."

"I'll always need you." You responded immediately.

JJ shook her head, a sniffle escaping her own nose. She shook her head, giving a watery smile. "You'll always want me. But you won't need me." She corrected softly, palm coming to rest against your cheek.

You thought about that for a moment, still not entirely sure if it was true, but becoming far too tired to argue. You were going to regret staying up this late in a couple of hours. But, for now you focused on your mother. Her smile, her touch, her warmth, and you sighed.

"I love you."

"I love you more."

You smiled tiredly. "I love you most."

The blonde chuckled, leaning her head against your knee. "Not possible."

Kinda short, but I tried lmao. To all who sent requests, I will get to them, just give me a second! I start classes again tomorrow so I might be a bit preoccupied:) 

[honey-milk-depresso]

Xing (Genshin OC)

Just makin’ a quick bio-

“It’s about time you go away, pal.”

Name: Xing 

Gender: Male

Age: 47 (Yeah, he’s old-)

Birthday: 14 November

Originated from: Fontaine (previously), but was born in Liyue first before moving to Fontaine

Currently living in: Liyue (yeah he went back after so long- sort of-)

Eye color: Yellow (didn’t show lmao-)

Hair color: Silver (again didn’t show-)

Relatives: 

Lyric (biological cryo user niece, who’s also an autistic genius, used to be from Fontaine) 

Thelonious (adopted geo user son who was abandoned in Mondstadt) 

Mana (adopted electro user daughter who’s wild as heck and abandoned outside of Inazuma)

Ana (adopted hydro user daughter who was abandoned in Liyue. The youngest and most precious obviously-)

Unnamed twin sister (Mother of Lyric) (deceased)

Occupation: Entrepreneur, CEO of Liyue’s Casino Slumps (it’s hidden though but classy-), Businessman

Affiliation: Jin Chi Casino, The Fatui (in good terms)

Vision: Electro

Weapon: Catalyst

Constellation: Kong Que

Status in-game: Not playable

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Personality: The old man himself is quite secretive of his own past, an enigmatic man from Fontaine who travelled to Liyue to reside there. Although he has successfully run a legal casino, much to some of the members of the Qixing’s disappointment, he has never done anything crude and unjust before... sort of. 

At least, nothing to do with money, he still plays fairly in the market. For years, people have respected and fear him, for his wealth, power and how intimidating he imposes to the public, a seemingly cynical businessman. 

On the contrary, Xing is actually a soft hearted person. Though he doesn’t show it to most people to keep up his public image, Xing cares for his children, biological or adopted, he sees them all as his family, sometimes though, he covers it up.

Despite his extreme wealth, Xing is surprisingly modest, and also a vegetarian. He seems to like the dish of Hand torn cabbage (Shou si yuan bai cai; a dish where you tear the cabbage and fry with some seasoning. I like it lolol-) in particular.

Xing is an intelligent old man, and recalls a lot of things and picks up on even the smallest details, showing that he’s very attentive. Straightforward and blunt, he’s very a very honest person and will not hesitate to say out loud what’s in his mind when he wants to. A little sarcastic though, especially with some of his humor, even dry humor-

Xing despite being a cold and harsh person at first sight, respects the traveler and trusts them. He also likes collecting things like gemstones and somehow envelope designs from around Teyvat. 

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What other characters think of Xing

Zhongli: He has mix feelings towards him. While he does not like the fact he’s running a casino in Liyue, he respects his care towards the children he has adopted, and respects he still abide to the laws of Liyue. All in all, he’s okay with him.

Ningguang: Same reason with Zhongli, but she also likes the tea and conversations he makes. He has quite the humor.

Ganyu: A little skeptical towards him, but very much respects he has a heart for his children and that he hasn’t done something troubling with the Qixing, except maybe his casino, but nothing illegal.

Keqing: Pretty much hates him for running a casino. She is relieved that Xing has never carried out illegal business in Liyue, she feels he’s ruining the image and “creed” Liyue upholds.

Xiao: He doesn’t really care much, but he respects him for caring for his own children.

Yanfei: She finds his business skeptical, but still respects that he abides to the rules of Liyue, so he’s fine in Yanfei’s books.

Childe: He’s alright with him. He just thinks Xing’s a cool, hip old man. He’s good in his books, especially how he cares for his children. He respects that.

Scaramouche: The fatui respects him, and he shall too. He’s never really interacted with Xing too much, but he likes the conversations he brings up and respects his intelligence and straightforward attitude, though sometimes if it’s to insult him it’s irritating.

Signora: Respects Xing. His humor is quite funny, and he is very knowledgeable and straightforward with no funny business whatsoever. She respects that.

Lyric: His biological niece. While she doesn’t like him occasionally smoking sometimes, she is very fond of Uncle Xing, and know he’s a good person at heart.

Mana: She loves him as a father figure. She looks up to him, sometimes trying to learn how to be a catalyst herself, seen while combining her scythe polearm with catalyst based moved as inspiration from Xing. She thinks he’s awesome.

Thelonious: Nious, like Mana, also looks up to his uncle. While he doesn’t really like he’s running a casino, something Xing has been trying his best to hide, he thinks his uncle sharing his vast knowledge, and sharing stories of Teyvat is something he really enjoys.

Ana: Ana is the precious jewel of Xing, well, everyone is but Ana’s the youngest. She feels most safe with Xing, and he loves it when he shows her all the gemstones he collects and Xing telling stories to her and Nious.

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**Even if he’s unplayable, you can use him temporarily during the events of any of his children’s Story Quests.

Normal Attack: Gold Lightning

Performs up to 6 Electro Attacks, dealing Electro DMG (Normal Attack)

Consumes a certain amount of stamina to deal Electro DMG after a short casting time (Charge Attack)

Gathering Electro energy, Xing uses electro powers to plunge towards the ground, decimating all enemies in his way. His attack can trigger other objects as well, such as rocks (geo) and water (hydro), dealing with AoE Electro DMG with either/both Geo DMG or/and Hydro DMG depending on the field. (Plunge Attack; Old man can’t plunge himself like he used to :,)) )

Elemental Skill: Feathers from the Storm

Creates a mist from three peacock feathers swirling around him from his command in an AoE, dealing with AoE Electro DMG. Every four seconds, within 20 seconds, 1) Deals with Electro DMG with opponents, 2) Regenerates HP of character within the field, 3) Dealt as a shield with DMG Absorption.

Press: Fires off 5 Feathers.

Hold: Fires off 10 feathers, plus the ones used for Regenerating, but shield remains, gaining a 75% DMG Absorption Bonus.

Elemental Burst: Bolt of the Peacock

Summons a peacock illusion made with Electro Energy, before it fires away its feathers turning into lightning bolts, launching surrounding opponents.

A big peacock feather would continue emitting lightning towards opponents with Electro DMG for so long as it persists.