#*Wise* words!..Sober thoughts..I need to write that down.

[grunklefordpines]

Wow, drunk ford! Never thought I’d see that after your “karaoke” night. People say “drunk words sober thoughts”, so what are your thoughts on Calypso, and did you and Bill ever actually date? (Am I asking this cause I wanna hear ford drunkenly gush and rant? Yes.)

(due to everything going on during the Christmas Party, I didn’t get the chance to get to my inbox!

But, now that I have the opportunity, I will begin to answer questions that were directed to Ford while he was intoxicated.. “translated” text will be in the tags)

Wwise words! (mumble mumble)..Ssober tthoughtss…..I nneed t’ write—tthat down…

Callie?..Haha…II rreally enjjoy hher company….hher ppresence is…Wwith jjust a word, oor a llook..II’m weak! Haha!

Ssshe iss..llike an angel—Jjust the...Tth—the Sweetest. Jjust the best ddate..I’mm gglad she llet me bring hher…

—But. Bbill? Ggod, ddon’t get—mme sstarted.

Wwe..nnever rreally put..a llabel on itt…Sspent a llot of ttime together..kkaraoke..mmaybe shhared a mmoment or ttwo..Bbut he betrayedd—hhe used me—Thhrew oour rellationshhip—whatever—awayy. Nnone of it mmatters anymmore.

Hhis loss.

II’m ddone—ttalkin’ aabout it.

[cissyenthusiast010155]

Can I request a story where larissa is working at in her office and hears someone stumbling around in the hallway only to come and find out it's one of her *18* students drunkenly stumbling around. She quickly goes over making sure shes ok and getting her back to her dorm. Y/n tells larissa that she wants to get her feelings out now because she knows she wont have the courage to do it sober, she tells larissa how beautiful she is and how she wishes to be hers. Larissa gets y/n into her dorm and puts her to bed. Y/n wakes up with a massive hangover but still remembers what happened the night before....

Please 😬❤🤗

Heyyy anon!! Thank you for your request! I would love to write this for you 💞 Hope you Enjoy ♥️

Drunken Courage ~Larissa Weems xFem Student!Reader

Mommy… Master List

Requests & Prompt-List

Warnings: fluff, drinking, age gap (all legal), confessions of feelings, happy endings, etc.

Enjoy (;

You stumbled through the corridors, your vision blurry and your mind lost. You were trying to make it back to your dorm but every turned seemed to take you back to the same corridor from whence you came.

As you turned the next corner, you suddenly clashed into someone. You yelped and went falling. But delicate hands caught you, stopping you from your fall. You blinked and looked up, only to find Principal Weems to be holing you in her arms. Your throat went dry at the stunning sight above you.

“What are you doing out so late, Darling…?” The principal concerningly asked.

“I… um… principal…” you drunkenly stammered, trying to get a clear thought out.

“I could hear you all the way down the hall, love…” Ms Weems softly chided, “Come on, let’s get you to bed…”

The tall blonde led you to your dorm. You stumbled down the halls and Principal Weems was there to help you. She got you to your dorm and into bed. She tucked you in, but as she was about to leave you grabbed her wrist.

“Wait… Ms Weems…” you whispered.

Principal Weems turned her attention back to you.

“Darling…?”

“I… I won’t… I have to tell you… Or.. or…”

“What do you have to tell me?” She softly asked.

Your drinker eyes met her caring ones.

“You’re beautiful… And… I wish I was yours…” you whispered.

“Shhh, Darling, time to get some sleep…” Ms Weems cooed.

~~~

You woke up the next morning with a splitting headache and a massive hangover. You noticed that on your bedside table, there were two tablets of advil and a note, which read,

Please meet me in my office when you wake up, Darling.

-Larissa Weems

You gulped. You tried to remember what happened the night before. You remembered drinking far too much, even for a Friday night. And you remembered wandering the halls. And someone helping you…? But after that, everything went blank.

You sighed and got dressed. You made your way to the Principal’s office, knocked and entered. You sat down at the woman’s word. For some reason, you were extra anxious and couldn’t make eye contact with the blonde.

“Miss L/N, I’d like to talk to you about last night.”

You gulped and went red.

“I know, I’m sorry. I should have had that much to drink, I shouldn’t have been drinking at all. I apologize, and I understand if I need to be reprimanded.” You breathed out.

“That’s not what I wanted to discuss…” she gently spoke.

At This, you finally looked up at the blonde and met her gaze.

Now it all rushed back to you… Shit.

“Oh…” you whispered.

You immediately avoided her gaze again in embarrassment.

“Look at me, Love.”

You looked back up at the blonde principal.

“I’m humbled by your confession. But I do not think it wise to pursue anything as you are my student and I am your principal.” She explained.

“I understand…” you whispered.

“However… you graduate this year…”

Your eyes widened lightly at the woman’s hopeful tone.

“And if you’d be interested, I wouldn’t mind pursuing something once you are no longer a student here. Would you like that?”

You nodded vigorously.

“Very much so.”

“Excellent.” Larissa hummed.

~~~

Larissa Weems Masterlist

[kdipshit]

Jesus motherfucking Christ ;

I would say I’m dependant on marijuana as my emotional regulation medication, so being off it, even for a day, I have seen that it drives me absolutely insane. Am I trying to ignore that feeling? I mean I fucking guess, the feeling when I’m off weed, is so unbearable, I must be choosing to run from the feeling. I have to be, other wise why else does that same sickening, disturbing anxious feeling come up. I’m finding it hard to sit with myself during these times, I’m usually crying, which is good, but my entire body shakes, my teeth chatter, emotional feelings become more real than physical touch, my emotional feelings are stronger than my senses.

Im not sure how long its going to take myself to pull it on up sober. I feel lost, but I know where to go. For the greatest time, I know where to go. Its a troublesome journey, like wizard of oz, I just gotta feel what I feel. I have so much faith that I will be alright. I’ve been writing with the door open, if you know what I mean, raw words, raw thoughts.

My drug and alcohol councillor is so happy that I’ve started a blog, I don’t know why I need this to be out there. I guess my energy is needed whenever I am, so I find myself always on the right path. Even during the sad moments.

I’ve put aside an hour to just write, my body is telling me I need to chill, for some reason my legs have been hurting for the past 2 days making it a massive effort just to walk, it has to be a sign, so I’ve been taking a rest and kind of laying down not really feeling productive, even tho I do everything I need to do throughout the day, I still feel like I’m stuck sometimes. I kind of have to trust that I will be okay, which I have recently learned so I’m not trippin. I just get scared about bad feelings or bad energies never going away. Again it’s pointing me to the fact that it’s my attachment to the feeling that isint letting me let it go. Just let go. Fuck I wish it was that easy. I’m sure it is lmao, but I might have a few blockages in my way still. I’m not afraid I’m just a little tired and need a break.

I can see my dark shadow lingering, behind the smoky mirror, behind the doors, behind my eyes.

Sometimes I feel like im an alien and none of this works for me. Am I really human? I dunno man. I guess not, it’s just a label right? I just am. Forget about language for a minute, forget about labels, attachments, thoughts and feelings, everything is still here without it all. That’s where I am. Accepting reality for what it is can get tricky when you experience psychosis. Never the less, it’s still there, it’s always there, the present, the now, it’s all that’s there.

Some days I’m just meant to be doing nothing but healing myself, with my same thing that wrecked me. Isint it ironic, of course if your brain can make u suicilly it can do the opposite. Just have to teach yourself.

Boredom is such a strong emotion, it’s stronger than most anyways, I can’t really be in my body when I’m bored, I don’t like the feeling, maybe boredom is a trigger lol. I guess I don’t like it bc I think I don’t, lol.

[imagine--if]

Haiiii 🖤 can u do a sfw/fluff alphabet or headcanon for Battinson please?? I love your blog and writing 😄

A/N: I absolutely can 💕 enjoy!! And what the hecc, WhY dO i LoVe ThIs GiF sO mUcH?!? His eyesss and anfghsedsvf he's too cute 🥰

Pairing: Battinson x reader (The Batman 2022)

Warnings: FlUfF 😍

A- Activity (What is their favourite activity to do with you?)

Bruce doesn't spend much time out in public with you, because it's really annoying when paparazzi and journalists barge in on dates and simple outings... and he's more comfortable in the night's darkness. Still, he'll go out with you if you like anyway, but he prefers when you two do stuff together in the manor. And there's always something to do 😉

B- Beginnings (How do they act in the beginning of a relationship?)

It takes a little while for Bruce to open up completely, but give him time, and he'll definitely come around. Poor guy's been through quite a lot, but he finds it so easy to talk and be around you. He's a little shy and nervous about doing anything wrong, since Bruce isn't very experienced relationship-wise, but he grows more comfortable and sappy every day 😊

C- Communication (Are they good communicators? How do they normally talk about their problems or solve issues?)

Like I said, Bruce is quite a quiet and closed-off person, but with you, he really wants to tell you everything. It's just really hard for him to put it all into words, to rehash the painful and bittersweet memories. Sometimes he writes them down in his jornals and gives them to you to read when he's not around. Other times he'll murmur about a memory at night in bed or something. Apart from that, he's pretty open about everything else that goes on in his life. You probably know that he's Batman early on in the relationship, since Bruce would find it difficult to keep that big part of him seperate from you. But after you accepted that and totally agreed to keep it secret, Bruce knew that you're a trustworthy person, so there's no need to hide anything from you.

D- Drunk (What are they like when they’re drunk?)

Bruce doesn't really get drunk much lmao, unless he's had a particularly rough day/night. I feel like he'd ramble about random thoughts and feelings a lot, space out and stare at you, point out everything he loves about you in precise detail that he'd be a little too shy to do properly when he's sober 😌 Then you'll have to deal with him being put and embarrassed the next morning hehe

E- Emergency (How are they in emergency situations? You get hurt, they get hurt, someone is dying etc?)

Welp, Bruce is Batsy, so if you ever got hurt, he'd be sooo quick to get you help and patched up. He gets all sorts of bruises and cuts while he's out patrolling the nights, but it's you that he's concerned about, so he'd just have to try not to panic and deal with the situation as calmly as he can. He's so protective and in love, so your safety and well-being are his priority.

F- Free Spot (I’ll give you any headcanon I come up with.)

Bruce prefers it when you come with him to events he has to turn up to, like special galas and meetings and stuff. You help ground him and put him at ease, even though the cameras flashing and the persistent questions about your relationship from the press and such get on his nerves as he sends them with death glares 😂 He writes about you a lot in his journals too. Like, he's writing down everything that happened on the night, but then the rest of the page is just about how he's doing this for you and won't let anything bad happen to you and you're the only person he cares about 🖤

G- Gifts (What kind of gifts do they give? What kind of gifts do they get?)

It's fair to say that this man spoils the hell out of you. Bruce isn't a very materialistic person, doesn't really care about latest models to blow his money on, but with you, he'll throw it around like nothing. You could literally be looking through a book about private jets and he'll be like: "Do you want-" "No, Bruce, I'm literally just reading 😂😂" He gets you meaningful presents too though, things he thinks you'd like and know is your style, because he's pretty attentive and observant.

H- Hugs (How do they show affection/cuddle?)

Oh boy, Bruce can't get enough of cuddling. He's a little shy at first about initiating it, just in case you're busy or don't feel like it, but you end up pulling him into a tight embrace which he reutrns fully. He loves being close to you, burying his face in your neck, letting himself just get lost in the warmth and love he's missed ever since his parents died. Even when he's writing up reports after being Batman for the night or is working on some other Wayne business, you'll most likely be held securely in his lap while you do your thing 🥰

I- Irritation (What is something that irritates them? How do they show their irritation?)

Bruce is massively protective over you so when anyone makes you feel uncomfortable, puts you in any danger, tries to expose you to anything that'll be bad for you... Anything like that, and he'll really get annoyed. Because you're all he's got left, and he's not giving you up anytime soon, especially to some careless person in Gotham. He won't go raging mad on them, but his jaw clenches as he tells them in his firm, quiet tone to back off and be careful and all. If they still don't get it, he'll make sure you're away from them before he properly does something about them, probably through Vengeance.

J- Jackpot (How would they spend their winnings if they won the lottery?)

Yeah, like Bruce Wayne needs to win the lottery 🤣 This guy’s literally a BiLlIoNaRe, in case you didn’t know 😎 and he spends a lot of it on you, as I’ve already established. He’s not at all social-climbing.

K- Kryptonite (What is their ultimate weakness?)

It's gotta be you, one hundred per cent. If anything happened to you, he'd never forgive himself. No one knows about Bruce being Batman except for you and Alfred though, so no threats of that sort come about, otherwise that'd really cause some issues.

L- Laughter (What makes them laugh?)

Whenever you're laughing, I think. Like, if you find something hysterical, or you're just in a giggling fit for no reason, Bruce finds it really hard not to chuckle at you with a fond smile. Sometimes he videos it so he can watch it in the rare times you're not together 💕

M- Morning ( How do they wake up in the morning? Are they a morning person or a morning grouch?)

Bruce Wayne isn't a morning person at all, due to him being out for most of the night as The Batman. He has curtains in the bedroom that block out the light, and he'd probably stay in bed with you all day if Alfred let him 😂 He just as his legs over your body and head in your neck in a sprawled out cuddly mess and refuses to let you move until you really have to, or Alfred yanks the curtains open and teases him lol

N- Needy (When do they feel particularly needy? How do they show it?)

He's needy a lot of the time, particularly for affection and attention. Bruce will do subtle things like move closer to you or hold your hand or lean against you slightly, and that's all you need to hold him properly. He loves kisses too, they're just so sweet and intimate and it makes him a blushy, lovestruck mess 😍

O- Oasis (Where is their happy place? Where would they go if they didn’t have anything holding them back?)

Wayne Manor and The Cave are his familiar places and his home. Bruce is dedicated to saving Gotham, but after a while, he wouldn't mind going out of town or the country for a few days or so to unwind or something. Still, that's hard with him being The Batman, but he'd find a way somehow.

P- Pain (How do they handle pain? How do they handle when you are in pain?)

Honestly, when he's hurt, it doesn't matter much to him. He'll grit his teeth and let Alfred or you bandage him with a light scolding, but like I metnioned earlier, if you're in pain, Bruce will do anything to help. Even if it's cramps or something, he's immeditely getting you meds and comfort and relief. It breaks his heart to see you hurt, so you'd get a hell of a lot of attention from him throughout the day, to the point where he'd be willing to stop early for the night to get back to you instead of staying as his vigilante self.

Q- Quote (What’s a quote that fits them and your relationship)

"And they will be the light your darkness has longed for." - Joseph Colombrita

R- Reunion (How do they celebrate seeing you after a long time of being apart?)

He's pretty clingy, wanting nothing more than to just melt into your hugs and keep you by his side for as long as possible. Bruce doesn't like being apart from you for too long - he can cope with the late nights and stuff, but not days at a time. He'd find it really hard to stay focused and Bruce would miss you too much 🥺��

S- Stress (What stresses them out? How do deal with stress and how do they relieve it?)

Daily pressures of being social as a Wayne, the responsibilities of being Batman... there's a lot he deals with, but you're always there to help him unwind, so you're what makes everything better for him. He'll willingly go through all the stress in Gotham if it means that you're there every step of the way.

T- Terror (What are they afraid of?)

Bruce's biggest fear is losing you like he lost his parents. He's admitted this several times in vulnerable moments where he clings to your like a life force at nights, forcing back tears, while you assure him that you'll never leave him and love him just as much as he loves you 💕

U- Unique (What is a quirk that is unique to them?)

Does being The Batman count? It should 😂 Bruce likes it when it's darker - like, did you see him putting sunglasses on while he was indoors in the movie?? - but he likes to see all of your face and features more clearly in the light too, so, dilemma lmao

V- Violence (Do they fight a lot? Are they a good fighter? What is their fighting style?)

Yep, Bruce fights a fair bit as The Batman, and knows exactly how to defend himself. He has his gadgets and techniques that work well for him. We know this stuff hehe

W- Wow (What do you do that really surprises them? What do you do that they really like?)

Bruce loves you being you. Watching you be comfortable in your own skin wherever and whenever is so beautiful and amazing to see, because he loves everything about you and seeing the little things you do that just make his day.

X- (Explicit headcanon. For all you degenerates)

Yikes, I don't really write smut 😅🤣 I will say that Bruce is a really soft, passionate lover, and any way the two of you can bond and be close together, he's more than willing to try it. He just lives to make you happy 🥺

Y- Yucky (Is there something that grosses them out so badly that they can’t deal with it?)

I'm not sure about this one... that stuff wouldn't be typical phobias and disgusts to do with bugs and sicky basic things like that. Even though Bruce is Batman, seeing sadistic acts and torture makes him shiver and feel sick to his stomach, though you'd never be able to tell.

Z- ZZZ’s (What are their sleeping habits? Both with and without you?)

He finds it hard to sleep anyways, unless he's seriously worn out from being Batman. Bruce will sleep better with you there cuddling beside him, his arms wrapped protectively around you, because he knows you're there and safe, and loves the feeling of you in his arms

This was so fun and cute to write 😘

[cyborg-franky]

Hii franky congratulations for the 1300 followers!!!🥳🥳

for your milestone event, can i get lucky number 13 with Roger (if you write to him) or Shanks? Cannon and gn reader please

once again congratulations angel, love your blog and your writing💖

Ahh thank you so much love! and this will be my first time writing Roger so I hope it goes well and you enjoy <3

Roger x GN Reader SFW Prompt: Confessing Feelings [GOOD END] word count: 418

Roger was popular, he was beloved by all the crew, he could have his pick of anyone whenever you docked at an island. He was handsome, funny, charming, just a loud ball of energy that would draw anyone in. So, what chance did you have of getting anywhere with the future pirate king?

You spent many nights when the rest of the crew were celebrating crying drunkenly against Rayleigh, the blond would laugh and pat you on the back, tell you to ‘go for it’ that Roger wasn’t the type to be cruel about it, or make it awkward.

Sometimes you thought maybe Rayleigh knew more then he let on, such a wise man. It was because of him you decided to set down your mug and confront your captain with your overflowing amount of feelings.

Drunk, full of courage you simply sauntered up to Roger as he sat on a crate, laughing with some of the other members of the crew. “Captain! A word?” You asked, louder then you had meant, wobbling on your feet.

He blinked at you before letting out his loud boisterous laugh, slapping his thighs in amusement as you almost tripped over your own foot to sit across from him. Other crew members that had been loitering around had shuffled off, taking the party elsewhere.

“Captain” You started again, swaying even now, sitting, and staring at him. You took a breath and went to touch his knee, missing.

“You alright there?” He chuckled and helped you back up, his strong hands on your shoulders as you blinked.

“I know this isn’t the normal and I’m sorry if it’s inappropriate but fuck it, we are both pirates so what’s abit of unprofessionalism huh?” He still had that smirk on his face, amused at your drunken rambling.

“Captain Roger, sir, I fucking love you and not in a drunk ‘I love you’ way but in a I really love you way” You huffed when he just chuckled. He stood and picked you up bridal style, your arms going around his neck on instinct.

“Your feelings ain’t one sided but you need to sober up before you confess these things kid” He chuckled and walked through the crowd of the crew, some clapping and wooting as he carried you below deck.

“Talk to me tomorrow, if ya feelings are still the same with no booze in you, we can do something about this mutual pining, alright?” You nodded to Rogers words, feeling your cheeks heat up.

[rowanaelinn]

Fire on Fire - Chapter Eight

Chapter seven // Chapter nine

Warnings: suicidal thoughts.

It’s kinda rushed but it kinda fits with today’s prompt for rowaelin month! next chapter is going to be way longer :)

————

Rowan took a piece of towel and used it to remove the foam from his client's leg, revealing a tattoo he had been working on for four long hours.

It was a large bouquet of flowers, each one a different color to represent a member of the client's family, with writing in the Old Language with their names.

“Here it is,” He told her, holding a mirror above her leg so she could see all the details. Her smile grew as she took in her tattoo. It was one of his favorite parts of his job, the emotion on their face. He loved to be able to bring such feelings to the people he worked on.

“I love it.” She said and Rowan only nodded, a hint of a smile on his lips. He put away his equipment, throwing away the little pots of ink that he hadn't quite finished while his client left, thanking him, before going to sign the last papers at the counter. When he finished, Rowan joined her and gave the invoice to Remelle, their assistant.

He left to clean up his workroom before entering the break room, heading straight to the fridge to take out his food. He had spent an hour yesterday cooking pasta, chicken and cutting up his favorite vegetables to make a salad. Cooking had always helped him to keep his mind busy and these last days it was more than necessary.

A few minutes after Rowan settled down at the round table in the middle of the room, fork in hand and his dominant hand busy holding an Apple Pencil while he multi-tasked eating and drawing for his appointments, Gavriel entered the room.

Rowan tried not to stare at him, exactly as he had done all week. But today it was more complicated as Gavriel sat down next to him, getting his full attention. He tried with all his might to concentrate on the drawing in front of him, but the temptation was too strong. "How's..." He cleared his throat, the words hard to come out. "How's Aelin?"

He avoided any eye contact, his eyes fixed on the tablet even if his drawing hadn’t progressed in the last ten minutes. He hated the feeling of worry in his chest. Rationally, he knew she was physically okay or Gavriel and Aedion would be by her side now. But she had been good at hiding her emotions, so good that her family didn’t see anything worrying. Apparently, he was the only one who saw anything, and it did nothing to help his worry about how she was right now.

After long seconds without a response, Rowan dared to look up at Gavriel. His head was turned toward Rowan, fork a few inches from his opened mouth. His entire face was frozen. Rowan just raised his eyebrows, waiting for anything to come out of his mouth. His boss shook his head, seeming to come back to reality. “Yeah. She is, why?” He could see the confusion on Gavriel’s face but Rowan wouldn’t answer that question so he just shrugged.

Rowan managed to stay quiet a few more minutes, even if he could feel the awkwardness in their air, but another question was burning his throat. “Have you ever met Arobynn Hamel?”

This time he looked up to see Gavriel look at him as if he was an alien, but thank the Gods, he didn’t comment on his interest. “Once or twice, but very briefly. Generally, that was just when he was picking Aelin up.” Rowan nodded, still trying to understand what Aelin had meant by The furthest they are from Arobynn, the safest they are. She hadn’t said anything else, leaving him more confused than anything.

“How did she met him?” He tried to appear casual as he asked that, taking another fork of food in his mouth. The food tasted sour as Gavriel kept watching him suspiciously. He couldn’t ask these questions to Aedion, knowing his friend he would be too defensive of his cousin, especially if Rowan was the one asking the questions. Gavriel knew about Aelin and Rowan’s disdain for each other but he knew less than Aedion, he hadn’t seen the two of them yell at each other or hadn’t witnessed them doing absolutely everything to ruin the other’s day.

He didn’t dare to ask Lysandra either, he was sure the woman would stab him with her hells if he even dared to pronounce Aelin’s name.

So Gavriel was the safest choice.

He seemed to think about who to tell him before opening his mouth. “At a party, when she was sixteen or fifteen, I think.” He took a bite of his food. “Arobynn’s an old friend of her father, both went together to college and were best of friends there, but they lost contact and met again at a gala. They talked about Aelin and found out she wanted to work in the same industry as Arobynn. He’s been her mentor ever since.”

Fifteen? Maybe Rowan’s mind was just fucked up to think it was weird, maybe he was just influenced by what Aelin said the other night. He might not have found it weird if she hadn’t said anything. He was just thinking too hard, trying too hard to find an explanation for what’s happening to her.

“You think he’s good to her?” Gavriel was a wise man, he was trying so hard to be part of his son’s life and it included taking care of Aedion’s cousin. Surely, he didn’t notice the little things Rowan did, but maybe he noticed something else. Rowan’s boss only shrugged.

“He found her a place at her university, made her TA, and gives her a job every summer. So, yeah. I guess so.” And he was paying for her education, a fact Aelin hid from her family. Why would she? It was what didn’t make sense, what was weird with all that. “I’m even sure he’s the first person she went to see when she left her parents in Terassen.”

What?

“What do you mean, ‘left’?” He asked, his brows furrowed. It wasn’t the only thing that didn’t make sense, he knew for a fact Aelin came to the house first. He hadn’t talked to her that day, he and the boys were sent to their room as if they were teenagers the moment a crying Aelin knocked at the door. He had lingered longer than necessary in the staircase, long enough to see her in a dress, shoes in hands, and cheeks filled with black makeup that had run down her cheeks.

Next thing he knew, Aedion spent a week at his father, trying to get Aelin better. Rowan had thought about this night for too long, Rowan always thought Aelin had partied too hard (because from her outfit, it was quite clear she had partied) and it was the straw that broke the camel's back for her parents. Even without wanting to, it had been impossible not to know about Aelin Ashryver Galathynius.

Pictures and videos of her in more than indecent dresses for her age were on page one of every magazine, when pictures of her sniffing coke had leaked it had even been made to National News. She had been sixteen at the time, and it had only been one of many times she had been caught doing what she shouldn’t have.

Before Gavriel could answer, the door opened to let Aelin appear in the doorway. She was holding flowers in her left hand, a smile on her face as she saw her uncle. Unfortunately, her face froze when she saw Rowan. Rowan’s entire body stilled, eyes roaming all over her body. She seemed okay, not skinnier than the last time he saw her, not hurt.

“Oh,” she said, opening and closing her mouth multiple times. She swallowed before clearing her throat. Only a blind person wouldn’t see her anxiety. “I didn’t think you ate there.”

He usually didn’t, having enough time to go back home. It was more comfortable to eat there, but he had been burying himself under work since he woke up in her empty bed. “You thought wrong.”

She was uncomfortable, and he both wanted to make her feel that way for hours and wanted to comfort her at the same time.

Sensing both of their unease, Gavriel stood up and went to leave the room. “I brought you those, your favorites,” Aelin said, giving her uncle the flowers. “I went to your favorite flower shop.”

Gavriel smiled and kissed Aelin’s cheek, earning a smile out of her. “Thanks.” He looked back at Rowan, he knew it was a warning glare but he didn’t care. He needed to speak with her. Gavriel left, pretending to have something else to do but it was all an excuse to let them speak.

“So, you’re alive.”

Aelin snorted. “I don’t know if you look relieved or sad.”

He fought his lips from rising. “Anything to say?”

Aelin looked at him, her bottom lip between her lips and her hands fidgeting. “Your shirt is ugly.”

It was his turn to snort. Of course, she wouldn’t go straight to the point. He arched a brow, waiting for a real answer. Even though he was the one sitting, he held more power than her now.

“What do you want me to say?”

“I don’t want you to say anything,” he said as he closed his tablet, letting his fork down on the plate to have his hands free. “I just want you to act like the adult you are, and it doesn’t include running away in the middle of the night after telling someone you want to die.” His voice was hard, it made Aelin flinch.

“I never said I wanted to die.”

“You said you didn’t have the strength to live, Aelin.”

“Yeah, never said I wanted to die.”

“But do you?” He had to ask, because if she did… He would do what was necessary, he couldn’t let her die. She was already killing herself slowly, between the sex and the alcohol… She told everyone she was sober from drugs but she had been lying for so long to everyone he had a hard time believing it.

Rowan got his answer when she avoided his gaze, focusing on the floor. His heart broke, he needed to help her and he doubted sending her to a psychiatric hospital would help.

“What are you doing here?” He asked, voice heavy with emotions. With his head, he made her sign to sit next to him, and to his surprise, he complied. She turned her chair to face him, their knees brushing. He could see the dark circles around her eyes from that close, her lips dryer than usual and dotted with small wounds that he knew were due to her teeth.

“I’m coming back home.” He told him, finally looking at him. “I was around, I finished school yesterday and had to sign some things at Arobynn’s office. So I bought Gavriel’s favorite flowers to thank him, I didn’t know you would be here.”

“You hoped I wouldn’t.” He stated and she only nodded. She looked broken as if she knew she could let her guard down after what happened between them Monday. He was happy she knew he would be here for her.

“I was ready to call the cops when I woke up alone, Aelin,” Rowan confessed. He needed her to understand people suffered from her actions. “I was going to until I heard Aedion complain to Lysandra about you leaving him for his father.” He exhaled a loud breath, trying to forget everything he felt that morning. “Aelin, I thought you were dead somewhere.”

Her hand gripped his, he couldn’t hide the surprise from his face. She kept her hand in his, her small fingers enveloping his. He couldn’t tear his gaze away from it, they had never touched like that. “I’m sorry,” her weak voice said. “I panicked. I didn’t think…” He looked back at her, letting her time formulate her thoughts. It was hard enough, she didn’t need to be pressed. “I didn’t think you’d care, to be honest. Nobody ever did, you said it yourself. Aedion was annoyed I was at Gavriel’s, not that I was gone. It’s always been this way, I’ve always been… free.”

It wasn’t freedom, it was negligence. But she didn’t need to hear this now, so he kept his mouth shut, just nodding in understanding. He linked their fingers together, delighted to see the surprise on Aelin’s face, at least they were even now. He squeezed her hand, accepting her apology. Two weeks ago he would have thought Aelin did it on purpose to have attention, but he began to realize he was wrong about her.

“It’s your birthday tomorrow.” He said, changing the subject. He had to get back to work soon, and he didn’t have the time to unpack everything he wanted right now. Aelin still looked at their hands, feeling too hard to describe on her face. She nodded.

“Lysandra and Dorian spent the week throwing a huge party for you,” It wasn’t exactly a surprise, Aelin knew there would be a party but probably thought it would just be her and her close friends. Lysandra and Dorian had another idea in mind. “If it’s too much, we can ditch. We’ll find an excuse.”

Finally, her eyes looked back at his face. She had a small smile on her face, Rowan’s heartbeat eased at that. “No.” She shook her head. “A party is what I need right now.”

Rowan wanted to disagree on that, but she was an adult. She knew what was best for her. “Then let’s party.”

Her eyes widened. “You usually don’t come to my birthday.” She was right, he had avoided these parties full of teenagers as much as he could, but he wanted to stay with her.

“I thought were an English major,” he teased her, pulling at her arm slightly making her smile. “What part of ‘you don’t have to be alone anymore’ don’t you understand?”

At that, she smiled so brightly Rowan could have sworn it lighted up the entire room.

————

tag list: @sheharahu // @morganofthewildfire // @thestoriesyoutell // @fromthelibraryofemilyj // @swankii-art-teacher // @itsforeverinnocent-blog // @becarefuloflove // @imnotsogoodatthis // @rowaelinismyotp // @a-court-of-milkandhoney // @feysand-loml // @surielandiareendgame // @live-the-fangirl-life // @story-scribbler // @loves-books // @fangirlprincess09 // @theysayitscrazy // @hellasblessed // @danibutterr

[holykillercake]

Emergency Light

ᴋᴏʙʏ x ᴍᴀʀɪɴᴇ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

word count: 2.6k

summary: 

Female reader developed a crush on Koby since he stood up against Akainu in Marineford. Someday at a party at the marine´s, you get drunk, too drunk. Koby takes you to your room before a disaster happens. You two get stuck in the elevator while everyone is busy partying.

highlight:  You wondered if they were training kamikaze marines now.

warning: 1. ¨Do not press random buttons.¨ - LAW, Trafalgar; 2. Trafalgar Law is not part of this story, but his wise words are worth of quotation. 

notes: *knock knock* Hi, guys! After a terrible writing block, I finally finished @pure-kirarin​´s lovely lovely request, which I used as summary since it was really good! I really hope you like it! <3 A little disclaimer! At some point, the ¨too drunk¨ part vanished from my brain, so our reader is just... drunk, hahaha. 

𝕃𝕖𝕒𝕧𝕖 𝕔𝕠𝕞𝕞𝕖𝕟𝕥𝕤, 𝕙𝕖𝕒𝕣𝕥𝕤, 𝕒𝕟𝕕 𝕝𝕠𝕧𝕖!

¨Y/N-san!¨ 

You were wiping a sweat drop from your forehead when the pink-haired boy appeared beside you, offering an isotonic drink and a warm smile. 

You did your best to hide the tiny heart attack you had.

¨Koby-san!¨ you shouted, smiling awkwardly. ¨Oh... is it for me?¨

¨Of course! You have been working really hard these days.¨

¨Thanks.¨ you took the drink from his hands. The heat and condensation caused a layer of cold sweat to wrap the bottle. ¨I just don´t know why they are making us help prepare this party. They have a team for this, Koby-san! Besides, we´re Captains now.¨ you pouted the last bit. 

¨Yeah...¨ he scratched the back of his neck. ¨well, at least we get to spend some time together!¨

¨I know, I just-¨ you stopped talking as his words processed in your brain. 

You felt your blood vessels dilating on your cheeks, leaving a hot sensation on your face. 

Perhaps he was just being polite, or maybe you were making a big deal out of this, but you couldn´t help. You have been fond of him for a while now, and you couldn't stop that involuntary reaction of your body when he said such lovely things. 

Koby realized the words that came out of his mouth, and the scene that followed made even your spirit giggle. His eyes opened wide, and you could almost feel his throat running dry with all his stuttering.

 If that was a blushing competition, you would be down to the second place. 

¨W-We´ve been on separate missions for ten months, right? I m-mean... and it´s not dangerous or anything, and-¨ 

¨Yeah, you´re right, Koby-san.¨ a smitten smile blossomed on your lips, and you tried to hide it by sipping the refreshing drink. 

As stated by the boy, you had spent almost a year in different locations of the Grand Line, leading missions of your own. That was the kind of thing you had to do as promoted Captains.

You had no idea where Koby ended up going. These subjects could not be discussed over snail transponders, just for precaution. In fact, you barely spoke to him during this time. There were only a few nights when you would exchange coded messages. 

Since you became Captains, your tasks have kept you apart for much longer than before. You couldn't help but miss him and wonder how he must be doing during those times. 

You have already met thousands of Marines. Some even stronger and more agile than him, but no one had his willpower. You would put your hands on the fire for that. 

Whenever you felt unmotivated or helpless, the memory of the boy standing up against Sakazuki, putting his life on the line to honor his fallen comrades made your blood burn hotter. 

He did what no one else had the guts to do. 

Too blinded by the bloodshed, in the end, the number of casualties made it clear that accomplishing the task was no reason to celebrate.

When the sole of your shoes stained with blood and the blade of your sword sliced through anyone who didn´t wear the justice symbol on their back, you questioned if the Marines had finally lost their purpose. 

You should be civilized and do justice, but not at the expense of soldiers who had families to return to. If the target had already been eliminated, why were you still fighting? 

A chill ran down your spine when, for the first time, you looked up and faced the massacre. It was as if before, you could look at everything and, at the same time, see nothing. 

If Koby hadn´t stood up at that moment, you wouldn´t be here today. Maybe for leaving, maybe for dying. But his act of braveness and courage returned a bit of your hope. 

You wanted to see how far he could go, and hopefully, you would be by his side. 

Before, you used to watch him, along with his colleague Helmeppo, getting beat up and beat up by Garp and always put himself back on his feet. 

You wondered if they were training kamikaze marines now. 

From your room, you had a perfect view of the training circuit, so you could see the cycle repeating itself over and over again. Boys, seduced by the idea of absolute justice, strength, and power to fight bad guys, came to Marineford willing to prove their worth. They would fall a few times before the sparkle in their eyes started to fade. 

Eventually, they would fade too. 

Those boys, however, fell and fell, being punched to a pulp, then patched back together only to suffer on Garp´s hands again. Watching them became your late-night entertainment, and seeing their improvements and growth turned out to warm your heart. 

At some point, you were assigned to be their opponent, and from that moment on, your days became brighter. They would share the craziest stories and tell the funniest jokes. Or not so much tell jokes. They were naturally clumsy and fun. 

Although, if you could choose, you would prefer to spend more time with Koby. Nothing against Helmeppo, he was just too much sometimes. But apparently, they came in a two-for-one pack. 

                                                             ***

It has been only a few hours since the party started and you reached the jackpot. You had taken all your frustrations on alcohol and rice cakes, and it showed. 

Every ten seconds, the memory of what you wanted to do disappeared, and that was somehow hilarious, making you explode in laughter and cause commotions. So for every ten seconds during the first hours, one of the last remaining sober in the enclosure had tiny cardiac arrests. 

Everyone was drunk enough to have a good time without causing any trouble. But the detail worth mentioning was that your party had started a little earlier, under the statement that you needed a little incentive to help you through the night. 

It meant that your energetically loud phase was close to reaching its end, giving place for your sleepy and distracted persona. Your eyes felt heavier by the second, light dizziness fogging your brain, but it felt relaxing. 

¨You know Koby is a type of meat?¨ you said, resting your chin on the table and giggling to yourself.

¨Y/N-san, I-I don´t think that´s the name of it.¨ his face turned red as he shifted on the cushion, adjusting his posture. 

¨Ugh, you´re so nervous Koby, you should relax.¨ you sang the last syllable. ¨Look at Meppo, he´s relaxing.¨

Your lips bent in a goofy smile as you watched your comrades building an okaki tower on Helmeppo´s head. The blonde had passed out on the table a few minutes earlier, too exhausted and drunk. He looked so peaceful in his sleep that a yawn escaped your mouth, catching Koby´s attention. 

¨Y/N-san, you should go to bed already. Y-You look tired.¨ his voice trembled when he took sight of your sparkling but sleepy eyes, rosy face, and messy hair. 

¨Hmm, no... I´m still good.¨

Another yawn. 

¨Come, I can walk you to your room before you relax like Helmeppo.¨ 

Your brain was working in slow motion, so by the time you thought of answering him, your grip was already tight in his. A little tighter than necessary, but you were afraid your wobbly legs would cease, and honestly, he didn't object at all.

The air outside the salon made your nostrils hurt within every breath, not because it was freezing cold but because the alcohol made your body run hotter than usual. Your ears felt like they were clogged, but that was merely the tingling silence on the empty hall. 

When he guided you inside of the elevator and pressed the corresponding button to your floor, your gasp, which echoed through the narrow walls, made Koby jump back, scanning for any sign of danger. 

¨Oh my God, look at this, Koby!¨ 

He watched you walk closer to the panel, completely mesmerized. ¨Uh... what, Y/N-san?¨ 

¨Wow! They never did this before!¨ you shouted, falling on your knees and leaning in like a child on an ice cream shop showcase. 

The boy kept staring at you, who pressed the buttons in a row with shimmering eyes. What was in that saké?

¨They never did...?¨

¨Look!¨ you clicked some more. ¨When I press the buttons... they light up!¨

A moment of silence fell upon the two of you, and although Koby always felt comfortable in your presence, he wasn´t sure what to do now.  

You, on the other hand, didn´t seem to mind, too focused on your groundbreaking discovery. 

¨Y/N-san, they have always...¨

¨This is so cool!¨

¨Y/N-san... I don´t think you should...¨

¨What does this one do-¨

A loud shriek escaped your mouth when the shaking of the elevator took you off balance, making your butt meet the floor in a thump. The lights flashed a few times before everything in your sight was pitch black. 

You heard Koby call your name, asking if you were hurt, but all you could do was hold still, fearing for your life. The alcohol made the bouncing feel like a devastating earthquake. 

¨Y/N-san!¨ you felt light pats on your shoes. ¨Are you ok? I can´t see anything!¨ 

Koby crawled on the floor, using your foot as a way to locate you. 

¨Koby, stop moving.¨ you whispered, but he seemed not to hear, lost in his rumbles. ¨Koby, stop moving!. We´re going to fall.¨

¨Wh-no! Y/N-san, are you hurt?¨

¨No, I don´t think so.¨ you answered, head swirling and heart racing in your chest. 

¨Y/N-san, did you press the emergency button?¨ 

¨No!¨ you stopped for a second, failing to hold your drunken giggles for yourself. ¨But that´d be a great idea right now. I think I remember where it is!¨ 

You twisted your body towards the panel, ignoring Koby´s attempts to stop you, and started to touch the many buttons, searching for the emergency one. 

Click. 

Click. 

Click, click, click. 

¨It´s not worki-¨ you squealed when the elevator struck again, piercing sound of creaking metal cooling every disc in your spine.

¨Y/N-san, please stop pressing the buttons!¨ Koby cried. 

The feeling was too strange. You felt everything rocking slightly, no light was coming in, and the adrenaline made it difficult for you to calm down and adapt to the darkness. 

Your breathing had already become irregular and heavier when the emergency light turned on. It was dim and greenish but better than nothing. 

¨Oh, no.¨ he said.

¨No, no. Don´t say oh, no.¨ You shook your head. 

¨Y/N-san, that´s the emergency light.¨

¨Yeah, so...?¨

¨So the elevators are not a priority now.¨

¨And that´s bad...?¨

¨Well, yes, because the energy is being used somewhere else.¨

You stared at him for a few seconds. All of his words made total sense, and in a normal situation, you would be able to handle it without further complications. 

¨Koby, I don´t know if you´re getting somewhere...¨

¨Y/N-san, there was probably a problem with the generators, and they had to redirect the energy consumption.¨ you nodded, starting to connect some dots in your head. ¨I think they are sending everything to the kitchen beca-¨

¨Wait.¨ you said with a terrified expression painted all over your face. ¨We´re stuck?¨

He saw the panic grow in your eyes. 

¨Y-Yes. B-But it should be back soon, don´t worry. Someone will come.¨ 

You remained in silence for the first hour, mainly because you kept falling asleep.

Little by little, the effects of the alcohol on your body began to cease and your temperature to cool down. Added to that, the darker the night fell, the chillier it got. So at some point, you couldn´t sleep anymore because your bones wouldn´t stop shivering. 

Koby handed you his coat as soon as he took notice of your discomfort. 

¨No, you don´t have to-¨

¨Y/N-san, you´ll end up getting sick.¨ he spoke, leaning a bit forward so you could take the piece of clothing. 

¨Thanks.¨

A huge smile rose on your lips when the coat fell on your shoulders. It was incredibly warm and had his soothing laundry fresh smell. 

Maybe with a hint of meat from the party. 

It served you like a cape, so you pulled the collars closer to your body and curled up to retain the warmth. If you closed your eyes, you could almost feel like it was him. 

That granted you another nap. 

Still, after about twenty minutes, something woke you up. This time it was a sneeze from Koby, who leaned against the wall, hugging his legs close to his body. 

Guilt hit you right in the guts. 

You crawled towards him, gently poking his leg. 

¨Koby-san...¨

He raised his head and mumbled something you didn't understand. Maybe he asked if you were ok. 

¨I... I´m still a little cold... c-can I sit by your side?¨

¨Uh? Yes, of course.¨ he shifted on the same spot, only to return to the previous position. 

His voice was a little nasal and rasped, probably from the cold. You hoped he wouldn´t get a sore throat. 

The coat became a blanket that you used to cover both of your legs, although he made sure you had gotten the bottom end since it had more fabric.

¨Are you feeling better, Y/N-san?¨

¨I am, thank you.¨ you whispered.

¨Y-You can lay on my shoulder... if you want.¨

You smiled and did as he suggested, curling up closer to him. It took you very little to fall asleep once you rested your head on his shoulder. His body began to feel warmer, and he even asked if you wanted to hook your arm with his to maintain warmth. 

Using the last bit of boldness provided by the saké, you reached for his hand. You had this sensation, deep down, that the feelings you carried for him were reciprocated. But you could deal with this some other time. For now, you focused on calming down the fireworks inside of your chest. 

[EXTRA SCENE]

A roaring noise followed by a ray of light fished you out of whatever dreams you were having. You pulled the blanket up to cover your eyes and snuggled deeper into the warm body in front of you.

Nothing crossed his mind at that moment. All you wanted to do was get rid of the light and have a few more hours to sleep. However, a sound like a throat clearing caught your attention.

You blinked a few times, images of last night taking form in your memory. The last thing you remembered before blacking out was you leaning against Koby.

I must have slipped to the floor at some point. 

Your hands were wrapped in a turquoise fabric, and it didn't take long for you to realize that the fabric was wrapped around someone.

Koby's scarf.

Koby!

You ended up lying in front of each other, sharing his uniform. Your face a few centimeters from his chest.

After yawning a couple of times, you opened a distance to look at him. 

His face was wrinkled, brows furrowed, and lips turned into a pout. The round glasses were no longer on his head, and the bandana, like his hair, was frowzy. 

So adorable.

A louder throat clearing made you turn your head. The groggy smile on your lips disappeared instantly with the image of the elevator repairer, Garp, and dozens of other marines staring at the two of you.

[socheckitout-mikey]

Can I request a Johnny x soc reader where they hide their relationship and suddenly realize they really dont want to so now they have to adjust

heya birdie! i only really write hc’s so that’s the format they’re in. also, i kinda focused it more heavily on the reader meeting the gang, bc johnny would be pretty set on her meeting them since they’re pretty much his family. i hope you enjoy what i came up with! - mae

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

Johnny Dating a Soc Reader and Hiding their Relationship Hc’s:

° None of the gang seemed to pick up on the fact that Johnnycake is dating you, and honestly, Johnny is pretty happy about that. Boii get’s teased enough as it is whenever he does open his mouth, he doesn’t need to be flooded with an onslaught of attention in regards to you.

° It’s just not Johnny’s style to be propped on top of a roof of a building, yowling about how he’s together with you. That’s more of Two-bit’s style. It’s not born out of embarrassment of dating you, someone who’s in a different social class altogether, it’s more over the fact that attention tends to overwhelm Johnny since he’s a raging introvert.

° In fact, Johnny is incredibly ecstatic to have you as his s/o despite the ample amount of insecurities he has about himself and his social status. He considers himself a lucky guy to have bagged someone as amazing and understanding as you. You balance a lot of his anxieties and insecurities out with patience and reassurance: Two things that we all know Johnny desperately lacks outside of the gang.

° Johnny tends to get effortlessly embarrassed whenever the spotlight is scorching on his form. So when you had told him you wanted to keep your relationship a secret, a part of him was incredibly relieved, but not before his mind started racing madly over the negative avenues for your reasoning.

° That other part of him felt ashamed of himself, especially because he primarily thought you were doing this out of the fact you were embarrassed of what others would think of you if they discovered the pair of you were dating.

° Yet you swiftly shutdown those ridiculous avenues of thought, ensuring him that you cared for him deeply and that societies prim and proper nose wouldn’t make you change who you loved, - even if it was upturned -. Similarly to Johnnycake, you relinquished from attention, the sheer thought of all these eyes being on you both made your skin crawl grotesquely.

° And thus began the comfortable pinnacle of your relationship with Johnny Cade. There was never much pressure, the pair of you free in the lack of obligation of speaking about your relationship to anyone else. It was beautiful while it lasted.

° You see, the gang weren’t blind. Soon they began to notice a spring in Johnny’s step, how he spoke a little more, how he disappeared frequently. The amount of times he’d led the gang on wild goose chases across town to lose them somewhere along the way to yours drove him insane!

° Teasing became an ample part of his life, the gang eventually guessing that he was dating someone. And although his crimson cheeks probably gave him away, his mouth never did. But Dally was hot onto the younger boy with a knowing smirk because Johnny may’ve slipped it loose once or twice whilst the guy was drunk: Sometimes, miraculously, Dally remembered his drunk endeavors.

° And your friends... fickle they were! Figured it out two weeks into your relationship with Johnny. Though fortunately for you they were trustworthy folk, they never pushed the topic, ready for whenever you were ready to tell them on your own terms.

° It was incredibly comical when you and Johnny met one night, both wild eyed and slightly breathless. The pair of you were sat in your car, the soft drawl of the radio humming whimsically in the background as Johnny sucked the life out of his tenth cancer stick of the night.

° “We gotta talk-” the paid of you mumbled out desperately in unison, the anxiety shivering in your tones made the pair of you spooked. Now that you look back on it, you laugh.

° “You first-” a unison it was once more and Johnny couldn’t help but crack a wry toothy grin before throwing his cigarette butt out the window.

° “Okay, you shoot first, Y/N.” Johnny stated in a shaky tone, his stammering long gone. You were one of the only people he felt real comfortable talking with.

° “I-I think we should tell our friends, because my friends are figurin’ it out.”

° And that night the pair of you stayed up till the early hours devising a plan on how best to break this to your friends.

° Johnny decided he’d need to pull up his bootstraps and meet your pals first, considering they were the nicest of the bunch. After all, the gang were notorious for being nasty to people they didn’t know, though laid off once they did get to know people. It was precautionary.

° And him meeting your friends went spectacularly! They loved Johnny so much and had nothing but great things to say about him. It was a bit of an ego boost for the kid, albeit incredibly overwhelming. He was still grinning in the vacant lot that night when Dally sat with the kid, fully sober for once.

° “Dal,” Johnny had hummed through the night air, shaking softly as nerves wracked his guts, “I gotta come clean about somethin’.” Did he have to say it so corny?

° “Shoot, Johnny-kid, what’s up?” Dally stated, seriousness taking him by the reins.

° And out it all came...

° Dally was ecstatic to say the least, taunting came out in boisterous fits and soon enough he’d wrestled Johnny into the Curtis house, gloating about how Johnny had snatched himself someone fancy.

° No one believed him initially, but then Johnny told them your name and when I tell you Soda’s jaw slammed onto the floor, it really did. They were so happy for him! And with happiness came the wild teasing of six boisterous boys, all eager to meet the person who’d won Johnny’s attention.

° Johnny was on edge about you meeting the gang, considering that you’d seen some of their antics in person from afar. He assured you that after awhile, they’d lay off; but for now, you’d be like that new attraction at the zoo. You hated that analogy but it made you laugh.

° You’d pretty much prepared yourself for the absolute worst, and although you were scared stiff, you sure didn’t show it. It made Johnny admire you more because you took everything the boys gave you in stride: I mean, it wasn’t like you weren’t a stranger to how teenage boys acted, after all, you did go to school with a whole bunch of em’.

° Darry was the most intimidating besides Dallas, due to his stature and height, but also because of that notorious icy look in his eye. He’d firmly shook your hand, muttering a brief “Hi, I’m Darry,” before slinking back into the kitchen to finish cooking dinner. Darry was a tough nut to crack, something Johnny had told you not to take personally: In fact, Darry really liked you from the moment you walked through the door because you were precisely what Johnny needed in a partner. You were also a good kid, something he hoped eventually would rub off on the other boys, but he wasn’t exactly expecting miracles.

° Sodapop was wild eyed and dreamy as ever, albeit just as dirty as the other boys. He flirted with you every chance he could get, eliciting Johnny to wise off to him; something that made the gang both gawk and simper like wolves.

° “What? You’ve never heard him speak before?” You’d quipped back wittily. You were also weary on how witty you were, seeing as you were typically seen as someone out of their leagues, you didn’t wanna come off as preppy, like you looked down on them. The truth was, you didn’t look down on them. After all, they were important people to Johnny, so they deserved as much respect as anyone else.

° Steve was cocky and smart mouthed, something you had witnessed all too often at school: In fact, you were pretty sure you’d been on the receiving end of his callous words more than once. You took everything he said with a grain of salt. He was also a little intense to begin with, joining in on Soda, Two and Dally flirting with you, but only in the sense to get you to be severely embarrassed.

° And Johnny was almost defensive of you, swatting away the gang and wising off to them to cut it out and leave you alone. He should’ve known better than to rise to their bait, because after all, that’s what they were really looking for; to get him going all red in the face.

° “You guys are nasty! I swear, ain’t nobody was this bad when Evie came round...”

° The minute you’d walked through the front door, Two-bit was hot on your heels, with Dally in tow, attempting to make you laugh up a storm. Well, he did, because it’s Two-bit after all: Who couldn’t that guy make laugh? His flirting would’ve been smooth if not for him having hiccupped halfway through his sentence.

° “Hey, sweet cheeks, why don’t you ditch Johnny for a real good lookin’ man like me, huh sugar?”

° “If the mirrors the one who told you that, then it’s lying.” You quipped back skillfully, more than comfortable taking on someone as wise-cracking as Two. The insult seemed to break the ice somewhat because Two didn’t take anything personally. In fact, all the boys thought it was pretty funny.

° Dally was the one that genuinely terrified you. The lines between a hood and a greaser weren’t present in him after all: Dallas Winston was as bad as they got, like Tim Shepard, and if it weren’t for him being Johnny’s buddy, you’d have avoided him at all costs. You weren’t sold short on his little show at the beginning, flirting with you, pulling on your hair like you were his kid sister or something... Dally found every way to irritate the hell out of you.

° “C’mon now, Dal! Cut that shit out!” Johnny snapped particularly at one point, but he meant business: Johnny never really wised off to anyone, so it took some guts for him to go out for Dally like that. Dally just grinned at him silly before ruffling the kids hair. “Alright, alright! Who knew you dug this one so much, eh?”

° Ponyboy, although quiet, was probably your most favorite of the gang. You really weren’t a stranger to him at school, often having some classes together with him. So it was somewhat refreshing to see someone you knew a little well in class. Every so often you’d catch the kid looking at you apologetically from the dining room whenever Steve or Two would say something that would’ve made anyone else run for the hills.

° “You know, if you keep goin’ like that, Johnny-cakes’ heads gonna burst into flames.”

° Whenever the boys got too rambunctious, Darry would pipe up from the doorway, reminding the boys that they needed to tone it down. After all, they’d promised Johnny they’d be on their best behavior, which in fact, that whole promise had been thrown out the window long ago. You’d just accepted it at this point.

° Eventually nighttime curled over Tulsa Oklahoma, and it was time for you to head on home. As soon as you and Johnny got down to the lot, he was intent on apologizing for their awful behavior, absolutely certain that you wouldn’t wanna be with a bum like him that hung out with trash like that.

° “What’re you apologizin’ for? I like em’. I mean, they’re awful, but...” You grinned at your boyfriend, linking fingers with him.

° “Did Two sneak you some booze?!” Johnny was animated, his voice cracking as it reached an octave that it hadn’t before.

° It did take awhile for the gang to accept you as Johnny’s girlfriend, but that didn’t matter to you as the cat was out of the bag: Outing your relationship to both of your friend groups was probably the best avenue to have gone down, since it was never in either of your guys’s nature to have just shown up to school one day holding hands and all that mushy galore!

° Everyone at school made a huge deal out of you guys dating for about a week until the next ‘crazy’ rumor swept their attention. Although you were still subject to some odd looks and some remarks, the pair of you just ignored them.

° The most the pair of you would do in public was hold hands or Johnny’s arm was around your shoulders. Subtle things. He got a whole ear full from the gang about how whipped he was. Johnny just didn’t dig the whole possessive thing that Dally was into. He didn’t need the whole world watching him make out with you!

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

please like, reblog and follow for more!

requests: open!

[aquamoonchaii]

CHEERS TO US >> JUYEON

⍣ genre: fluff; slice of life; comfort!au

⍣ warnings: none

⍣ pairing: juyeon x reader

⍣ word count: 2.7k

⍣ collab: This is for the collab Summer Love - The Boyz from lovie @bangchan-fairy

⍣ charlie’s notes: juyeon is here! i did a comfort au so you guys can read it to feel better always uwu, this lovely banner was made by the precious @halliney

⍣ summary: juyeon needs to talk to someone, you appear with a glass of wine ready to make his life a little better.

This was his second night in this bar, he would never have expected himself to be alone in a small town drinking beer with snacks on a friday night. But he was desperate and he had to do something, his mind needed to relax.

He has a beer in his hand as he smiles back at the pretty ladies that pass by his table and look at him with desire and interest. JuYeon likes the attention but turns down any invitation to go to another table or even to hotel rooms, he already has a target and is not interested in anyone else.

At least tonight.

Because his target is special, he wouldn't be able to talk about this to the other girls.

Usually summer vacations are all about relaxing after the hard work of a whole year, thinking about all the goals he has reached and the new goals he wants to set for himself. But not this time, he gulps down all the beer and sighs.

JuYeon feels trapped in some kind of existential crisis thinking about if what he is doing is correct and if his life is turning out the way he wanted. Usual stuff that makes young people think a lot.

He is just here waiting for the girl that said would be here around the same time as yesterday, where she literally just came to take care of a drunk friend who was heartbroken. He wasn’t heartbroken but her words certainly had some healing effect on him and he seemed really anxious to talk to her or...

...to anyone really. He is used to being the one who is reliable and the man all his friends go to have some type of advice or comforting words. And being him the friend in need? Hell no.

The irony on him not being able to ask for help or even having the strenght to let out all his weak thoughts is stupid and makes him smile bitterly against his beer. He wonders what the hell he is actually doing here, maybe he is desperate for some comforting words coming from a wise stranger.

“Are you really drowning in alcohol for a woman that cheated on you, idiot?” It was late and the only thing he could hear was the voice of the girl that just entered the bar, she waved at the bartender and he finally noticed the loud sobbing of the wasted man that was two tables apart from him, his whining was part of the whole mood of the bar so JuYeon didn’t even pay attention to the scandal, his own problems were loud enough in his head. He turned his attention to them when the crazy wasted man hiccups and finally shuts up, not even the bartender or the other drunken friends of his could do it. The scene was pretty unforgettable: a tall strong drunk man that was pretty aggressive when someone asked him to lower his voice while sitting down holding a glass of vodka is now hugging the waist of the woman that just called him an idiot. But your next words made his mind explode, he wonders if he is as drunk as the crying guy there.

“If you want to scream, do it to let go, cheer yourself up and move on, don’t just drink and act like an asshole with people.”

Random but effective words. He expects her to mock the man there, instead she hugs him back and pets his hair and talks with a gentle voice but it also sounded strong. JuYeon found her words weird and comforting even if they weren't directed to him or even to anyone to hear he was just close to them and it was pretty late so there was little noise and he could eavesdrop. “Let’s go, you can cry at my house. I won’t look, I promise~ Then we will be sober, you are going to write down all your happy feelings, smile at them and that’s it. The other paper with all the bad feelings is going to be burnt and we are going to kick ass, ok?”

She didn’t make a fuss of it, the woman just petted his friend’s hair until he calmed down and probably passed out when the bartender came to her. “Y/N! You are the drunk whisperer, that was awesome! Why don’t we put him to bed, he can stay the night up in my room and you have some snacks here? I haven’t seen you in weeks!”

“I would love to have a snack from my favorite bartender but the taxi is waiting for me to let my drunk one at home, I promise I will come tomorrow at this exact time. I’ll eat like crazy I promise!”

JuYeon came here at the exact same hour.

He isn’t sure why he came because he didn’t know anyone or had planned anything really, he just hopes you read his mind and approach him to talk about your weird speech that made him feel good for no reason. Or something like that at least.

So when you appear, he notices something.

He is completely sober tonight and doesn’t know what to do to approach you. You are a pretty woman indeed but you intimidate him for some awkward reason. He feels like an idiot but it feels like you are going to read him like a book after looking him in the eyes. So JuYeon stands up and goes to the restroom to gain courage, he will do what he knows best: being a charming perfect boy.

A bit of flirting, maybe a date. That’s all he needs to have a little conversation with you.

"Jacob, can you please stop staring at the random guy? Is he that good looking? Your eyes are glued to him." You laugh as you eat the snacks your friend put on the bar for you to eat as you chat about a whole month of not seeing each other.

"Dude, this guy comes and kills all the ladies. But he is looking at your way too much, I own this place~ He wants something and I will not offer you as a tribute." Jacob follows the tall man's steps with his gaze, he stops when he sees his figure disappear in the restroom. His face is recognizable because well, he is quite handsome for the girls that asked a lot for him that came only yesterday and Jacob just said he is a regular to gain a few more female clients. Actually, he never saw him before and it's a big no for you to even look at his direction.

"Ok but stop staring and what makes you think I'll agree to something? I just want to have this awesome glass of wine as I talk to you about our Sunwoo and his broken heart." He laughs as he wipes the glasses that were recently washed. "I want to slap some sense back to him."

"He needs some time. Let's just be patient with his wailing at least this week, he needs to let it all out." There is this untold secret that only Jacob knows too: your feelings for the guy you took home drunk last night were strong and you decided to let Sunwoo go so your heart was also healing, it was a slow and silent process that was shut by a glass of bitter wine. You would always drink a glass of wine when your feelings were out of control as Sunwoo falls hard and easily and suffers too because of girls.

"Is this your last glass of wine?"

"Of the bitter one, yes. My heart and my liver are all good now, I'll take sweeter things this time." Jacob smiles and nods, he understands and pats your head. A client comes in and he excuses himself to go attend them.

"Is this seat taken?" JuYeon asks and when you look at him, he shows his biggest smile. You pat the seat next to him. "My ego usually needs an extra seat but I guess you can take it." He seems taken aback for the quick answer but he quickly smirks triumphantly and sits next to you. You've met him before but apparently he doesn't remember you.

"May I offer you a drink?"

"No, because this is my last glass of alcohol but we can share snacks as you seem lonely." JuYeon must feel like a champ because he sticks his tongue out sexily and nods, grabbing a toothpick that holds a little cube of cheese on your plate and eats it. "You don't remember me?"

"Is that a pick up line? Because I'm trying to think of one that will make you swoon."

"So you don't." You see JuYeon’s mind wandering at your smirk and trying to read something in your eyes.

It was indeed unexpected a target to flirt back or to be this mysterious because- Wait.

Holy crap.

You caress SunWoo's hair as he blacks out completely on his bed. Of course you feel bad for him, you treasure him a lot but your heart is finally at peace, you’ll be there to pick up the pieces of his oftenly broken heart but yours who used to suffer in silence is okay now. You let him go just as you kept your crush on him. In a blissful secret.

"I'll be right here for you. And I'm voicing out this because it's over and you are half-dead. I liked you so much it's crazy how I could keep it to myself. My crush on you is over and it was beautiful for me and our friendship stays strong as always." You smile at his passed out figure and make him company until his cousin appears to take care of him and calls a taxi for you. The taxi will wait for you in the convenience store as you wanted to buy some things, it’s pretty late but this small town is safe, or at least this neighborhood is.

"I'll have these cereal boxes and these snacks please."

"Is SunWoo still sad for that bad ex- girlfriend? He used to come here and buy her favorite snacks all happily until yesterday when he just bought beers with swollen eyes. We talked for a bit as his first question was why women were so unfaithful."

"Oh really? He came crying? Oh dear, this guy… Yeah, he is a sad single person now. Hopefully, he will cheer up quickly as always. He is now half-dead so he won’t feel any pain." The old lady who attends there knows you because you hang out a lot with Sunwoo and Jacob who lives nearby too. She nods and laughs until he stares over your shoulder.

"Me! Me! I want snacks too! I'm lonely, we can share them!" A man behind you makes you startle with his loud voice as you are paying your stuff, you turn around and find the cute man you saw at Jacob's bar. He is more than tipsy, his cheeks are red and he has droopy eyelids. "I heard you talk to the crybaby~ Talk to me too!"

"Young man, you are drunk. Go to your house!" The lady explains she saw him coming with luggage and he is staying at the house in front of your sad friend. He is pretty quiet and always arrives at the store early with hangovers asking for ramen, she points out he is indeed a gentleman and he must be here for summer vacations so party nights must be his thing or something.

"I'm not a young man, I'm JuYeon sweet lady. I wonder where my money went, my whole wallet disappeared just like my motivation to do stuff." He huffs and you laugh sharing one of your snacks. “Is this for me? You are so sweet, can you be my life mentor? I’ll treat you well I swear!” The store lady laughs at the cute behavior the drunk handsome man has and hushes you as she sees your taxi at the entry. “Wait! Don’t go, I’m trying to propose, drunk whisperer!”

JuYeon’s seductive mood dissipates with the beer foam in his glass. He wonders how the blackout and don’t remembering a single thing after getting drunk should have its negative side. Like this moment, he feels so embarrassed but of course, his stoic face remains the same.

“Oh God, this is so embarrassing. I can’t even pretend I don’t remember stealing your snack, can I?” You shake your head and clink your glass of wine with his glass of beer. “Well, I guess I should use my drunk self to start a conversation.”

And he did, JuYeon initially tried to start a casual little conversation to ask about you and stuff but he ended up spilling about why he is in a small town searching for some peace but apparently it’s his mind the chaotic one instead of the city and its loudness. When he started speaking about it, there’s this feeling of a really heavy load slowly leaving his shoulders and maybe he understands now the american movies that use this plot about talking about your problems with a stranger. He felt relieved, JuYeon is the kind of guy that seems impassive at everything around him and he is praised a lot because of his drive and his determination of not give a single fuck.

But he cares. He notices everything around him. And feeling like he could appear vulnerable sounds awful, just thinking about it makes him regret even approaching you. JuYeon suddenly falls silent, half studying your reactions and half awkwardly shutting up because this was too much information.

"Sometimes a lot of thoughts just turn in a big skein. It's okay to feel weird about it too." You said emphatically (or at least that's his conclusion as you don't mock or roll your eyes), he can't help but stare at you. He was right all these hours thinking about you and your words, his drunk self was right too. You can be a life mentor. The conversation ends when Jacob introduces himself and says he is going to close the bar and that if JuYeon is even trying to talk more with you, he needs to promise he will let Jacob chop his head off if he does something inappropriate.

"Date me."

“No?”

“No, why would I?” This is the fourth night of a long conversation about life and deep topics he thought no one would want to talk about, JuYeon forgot about seduction tips after the second night of just one beer and lots of good talking. He feels comfortable and his mind thinks less of his apparent poor self worth and he now feels encouraged. “If you feel happy singing and being a performer, why are you doubting?”

Good question.

He wants to date you.

It’s kind of impulsive coming from him and basically you two are already hanging out meeting in Jacob’s bar every night. He wasn’t expecting you to say no that easily, it’s shocking and honestly sexy, his ego feels slapped too.

“What?”

“Yeah, we clearly have a mental connection and yes, you are pretty attractive” You say like it's pretty obvious. "But why would I date you?"

"Because… I don't want to eat alone?"

"...and?"

"And I am kind of attracted to you and your amazing brain?"

"...and?"

"Because I feel like you are pretty as fuck and also a friend I will treasure a lot and I will probably scream because I don't know if Jacob is your friend or your boyfriend?"

"What?" You laugh at his sudden confession and at his reaction that seems pretty surprised at his own words. "Well, that kind of convinced me."

"You always make me talk, it's embarrassing and really interesting. How am I supposed to meet another person like you- Wait, I convinced you?" You nod and feel your cheeks heating up as he stares at you and laughs happily.

You can be a life mentor and he will protect you from everything. Maybe you could be a couple.

© aquamoonchaii. all rights reserved

taglist:

@halliney @bangchan-fairy @kpopsnowball @melonmochimoon @prettyjaems @soleilsuhh @haifengg @purplepsycho03

[damianosismyking]

from the prompt list: 3 or 6 for lamen :) love your writing sm!

Hello dear anon! Thank you so much for the prompts and kind words <3 Unfortunately, this turned out a little long. I hope you enjoy it anyway.

|Prompts chosen from this list! |

#3: “Come with me to the other room” – “We are not going to talk about this now.”

#6: “Here, take my jacket” – “I told you I’m not cold” *shivering*

~~

[1,9K words]

It had everything to be the perfect night, but of course, fucking Aimeric would ruin it.

Laurent had been impossible to convince, deadly opposed to getting out of the house unless it was indispensable, and more so getting out of the house to be somewhere loud and crowded.

In the end, Damen managed to convince Laurent through bargain: if he came with him to this one party his friend was throwing, just this time, then Damen would spend the next three months giving Laurent as many back rubs as he wished without complaint.

More than anything, Damen was just happy to get Laurent out of the house. It did him well to be around people that weren’t Damen or his coworkers for a change. To talk about things that didn’t include slide presentations and spreadsheets and whatever he saw on the TV or read on some site. Shake things up a little.

And it worked wonders. Laurent had found a clever girl with whom he connected and had been chatting for a while. He even allowed himself a soft drink (which didn’t have enough alcohol to qualify as an alcoholic beverage). Damen’s heart lurched as Laurent smiled politely, very obviously entertained.

Convinced that Laurent was fine on his own, Damen left the room to witness a drinking competition unfolding in the backyard. He fully intended to take part in it when the lightweight college boy on the left inevitably passed out.

It couldn’t have been more than five minutes. It was just enough time for Damen to step out to the backyard and see the college boy hurl his insides on the grass, and Laurent was poking Damen’s back with a brutal force.

The light quality that had been on Laurent’s face a moment ago had vanished. His jaw was locked, and Laurent seemed angry like Damen hadn’t seen in a while.

“What happened?” Damen asked, but as soon as the words were out, the reason materialized into the backyard.

Aimeric. Fucking Aimeric.

He came hand in hand with an older guy who was not Jord but might as well have been, greying beard, receding hairline and all. Aimeric’s hair had grown long enough to tie up into a bun since the last time Damen saw him. He greeted and smiled a very politician smile at some folks by the pool, making his way to them.

“What are you doing?” Laurent clutched the front of Damen’s shirt. His eyes on Damen were piercing, and Damen knew it was in an attempt to not let them travel east, to the last person any of them expected to see there.

If only Damen had known, he’d never have invited Laurent along. “Let’s go home,” he suggested.

“No,” Laurent replied steadfastly. “I want to see what you’re doing.”

Damen pulled Laurent to his side, a protective arm swung over his shoulders to keep him from view. The issue was that even trying to keep Laurent from harm, the harm had already reached him. Before Damen had a say in it, Laurent was stepping into the place emptied by the college kid, asking the host to explain the rules for the game.

Calling after him resulted in nothing. A second after, Laurent’s hands were tied back, and he was bending over shot glasses placed at the table, grabbing them with his mouth and tossing his head back to drink. He dropped the glass unceremoniously at the table to mouth the next one and the next one, down the line like it was water.

Laurent won, finishing his shots first. The next opponent took the place of the girl Laurent beat. Once again, Laurent won. He was getting ready for a third round when Damen stepped in.

“Come here.” Damen pulled Laurent closer reaching behind him to untie the hands.

“I was playing a game,” Laurent protested but ultimately allowed himself to be untied and dragged away.

Damen returned inside the house, guiding Laurent by the hand. The shots hadn’t hit him yet, but they would soon. Finally, they made it to the kitchen in search of water.

And there was Aimeric too, like a bad presage. In his heart, Damen prayed Laurent would overlook Aimeric with the back pressed to the stove talking to some guy who very evidently drooled over him.

Of course, Damen wouldn’t be so lucky, and Laurent would gulp his water while burying Aimeric with a deadly glare. It certainly didn’t help that Aimeric met the gaze and leaned into not-Jord’s ear to whisper something and giggle.

It certainly didn’t help that it happened again and again. One too many times.

If it bothered Damen, who objectively had nothing against Aimeric, he could only imagine what it did to Laurent to see his ex-friend magically pop up at every location they ran to and very conveniently start whispering to the nearest drooling idiot.

Laurent’s pupils were blown wide already and his lids heavy. It would get worse, and when it did, it was for the best if Aimeric wasn’t anywhere within Laurent’s sight.

“Come with me to the other room,” Damen whispered into Laurent’s ear.

“We are not going to talk about this now,” Laurent’s groggy response. He didn’t even bother masking that he was intently staring at Aimeric, who laughed carefree with not-Jord’s hand in his back pocket.

“Who said anything about talking?”

Laurent tagged along with Damen, wavering behind him. They crossed the restriction rope to make it upstairs, to the room area Pallas may get angry at him for invading.

But Damen knew the place, and he knew that in Pallas’ parents’ room, there was a nice balcony with a bench where he had sat more than once to get high with his friends throughout high school. It opened to the view of the sleeping neighborhood and blocked the noises from the party happening downstairs.

The night was chilly, even for late Autumn. It ruffled the tops of the trees and shifted strands of Laurent’s hair.

Damen started to remove his jacket, but Laurent rose a hand to his face. “I’m not cold.”

Laurent walked right past the bench and propped himself up to sit at the balcony with a leg hanging off each side. Damen went to stand beside him, in case Laurent lost balance.

Laurent breathed in deeply, his head lolling against a column. “I hate drinking,” he said, squeezing his eyes.

“Do you need more water?”

“No. I need to be sober.”

“Water could help you with that,” Damen pointed.

Laurent shook his head lazily. He swayed until his head hit Damen’s chest. “No.”

Damen tilted Laurent’s chin up to peck at his lips. Laurent’s mouth tasted disgusting, but he leaned in with a soft sigh, and Damen kissed him deeper. It went on for some time. When Damen pulled back, Laurent shivered.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Damen offered, tucking a strand of hair behind Laurent’s ear.

“About what?” Laurent said. His speech was even more dragged than before, but he knew precisely what Damen had referred to. “There’s nothing to talk about.”

“Laurent.”

“There is nothing to talk about.” Damen recognized a sign to drop the subject when he saw one.

He knew, however, that the fallout with Aimeric was still a sore spot for Laurent. And that regardless of his claims, he missed his friend. Aimeric had been one of the few people Laurent trusted enough to befriend, and after the blown-out fight that resulted in them never speaking again, Aimeric changed drastically into the role of one of Laurent’s fiercer – if not to say most dedicated – antagonists.

Laurent had been telling Damen for months that Aimeric fed people lies about him and twisted his secrets to tarnish Laurent’s image all around. Damen had thought it was the paranoia speaking, the way sometimes Laurent thought people were looking at him a certain way or laughing behind his back. But, as it turned out, Laurent had been right. The realization curled Damen’s stomach and boiled his blood.

“Are you going to tell Nicaise?” Damen asked, running his fingernails lightly up and down Laurent’s nape.

Laurent smiled. “I don’t want him to kill Aimeric.”

“Wise.”

Laurent’s eyelids grew heavier with each passing moment. His pupils were so wide his irises were reduced to little blue bands. He shivered, losing a battle against his trembling jaw. “Here,” Damen said, “Take my jacket.”

“I told you, I’m not cold.” A strong shiver followed the statement.

Damen wrapped his leather jacket around Laurent and pulled him close, resting his chin at the top of Laurent’s head, blond strands tickling his neck. There was a good chance Laurent may fall asleep like that, and Damen would have a tough time getting him off the balcony. “Are you going to throw up?”

“No. I think.”

Damen laughed into Laurent’s hair. “Come lay down.”

“I’m not in the mood tonight, Damen,” Laurent frowned.

“I meant actually lay down. You’re barely awake as it is.”

“I’m awake,” Laurent said, but he swung his leg over the balcony and hopped off, staggering on his feet.

It was an easy task to take off Laurent’s sneakers and tuck him in bed, always so impossibly pliable when he had a little too much to drink. He was reaching the worse of his drunkenness, barely capable of keeping his eyes open anymore.

“Please tell me if you need to throw up,” Damen said, sitting at his bedside just to look at him. Even poorly illuminated and wholly wasted, Laurent managed to be the most beautiful thing Damen’s ever laid eyes on.

“Lay with me,” Laurent whined.

“In a minute,” Damen said. He planned to go back downstairs once he was sure Laurent had blacked out, to explain the situation to Pallas and try to save face, but Laurent didn’t need to know that.

“You think Ric is going to hate me forever?” Laurent’s eyes were closed, face going lax. The chances he’d remember that conversation after he woke up were minimum.

Damen ran a finger down Laurent’s cheek. His face was flushed red and warm. “Will you?”

Laurent nuzzled Damen’s hand, pinning it in place with his own. “Probably.”

Laurent’s breathing evened out. He didn’t stir when Damen pulled his hand from under his or when Damen stood. To make sure, Damen whispered, “I’ll be back in a minute,” into Laurent’s ear just to see if he’d react. When Laurent remained the way he was, without a muscle on his face twitching to indicate any part of his subconscious remained awake, Damen snuck out with silent steps.

He’d bring a bucket up with him when he came back. And a bottle of water.

Before that, though, he may have a thing or two to solve with a certain brunette.

[sixteenthshen]

i need help

I read a post on Zhihu last night - “How to evaluate the finale of Word of Honor?” The top commenter’s writing just killed me.

Heavy spoilers for episode 33/34. There’re no spoilers for the episodes after that, but I can’t guarantee this if there are replies.

The rest hidden behind a cut. 

I don’t need help explaining the finale or the happy ending, bad ending whatever it is, I’ve found my own way to come to terms with it. But I can’t accept what happened in 33/34 and the lack of follow up on the core of the issue, and that’s blocking me from enjoying the “HE”. To be fair, I think I may be a bit hormonal? Because this is really making me feel like crap. 

-----

This is a comment made by a Chinese user on Zhihu: 

I only want to say; the show might as well have ended when A-Xu jumped down the cliff after WKX. Even though it's a bit lame, at least the soulmate feelings were still there.

The grand finale basically destroyed the soulmate bond built up over 20+ episodes. The essence of it is gone; all of the "candy" and "knives" feel like they've been stripped away.

I've written so much about WKX & ZZS and how they were both falling for each other, saving each other. And now it all looks like a big joke.

It turns out ZZS's soulmate is ZZH, not WKX. The mountains and rivers in the world can't compare to meeting my soulmate. Since my soulmate is gone, I might as well die. (Play on the quote from the drama, instead of why should I live, it becomes I should just die)

(The poster starts talking to ZZS directly - referring to him as you) You're really a mistreated (tortured?) concubine, aren't you? Once you decide to give your whole heart, whole person away, you somehow always end up meeting some fake evil bastard (reference to Farewell my Concubine, basically that ZZS always ends up being suckered)

When you first fell into Prince Jin's trap, it's because you were young and not yet wise to the ways of the world, and believed in the grand words of your cousin and got conned into the world of politics. Sinking into the dirtiest, muddiest of marshes.

You plotted tirelessly for 18 months, suffered through 18 months of pain from the 7 nails, and finally exchanged it for 3 years of freedom. But when you met WKX, you fell right back in again.

Heraclitus said, "You cannot step into the same river twice" <<(I think this person mixed up the meaning of this quote, cause it doesn't fit, but basically intends to say people shouldn't make the same mistake twice)

The first time you stepped into the river, you got away with only half your life. The next time you stepped into the river, you nearly lost your life 4x (under YBY's sword, when you jumped off the cliff to your death for love, pulling out your nails, exploding the mountain to cause an avalanche + suicide), in the end you became a living dead person on Changming mountain.

I don't know if I should call you a living dead man, anyway, in my heart, once you pulled out the nails from your body, cutting off any other alternative you had just to help WKX take revenge… while WKX came back from the dead, and worked with everyone present at the scene to give the performance of a lifetime, you were already dead.

What a mockery, a farce.

You gave up everything but in the end, you were nothing more than a spectator.

He wanted you to give him face, to let him go home to explain things. You quietly stepped aside and gave him the stage. He wanted your baiyi sword to demonstrate his family's sword technique, to prove his identity. You gave it to him without a second word. He cut Zhao Jing's arms and legs tendons, crippled his martial arts, finally took revenge. You were happy for him despite everything.

When Mo Huaiyang accused him of being the Ghost Valley Master, he openly admitted to it and said the entire first part was just an act. You stood in front of him, to protect him. Said he is your shidi, and stood with him without any reservations.

But he had secretly already reached an agreement with Ye Baiyi. He knew YBY wouldn't hurt him, but you didn't know and yet you still shielded him. So terribly afraid that YBY would hurt him because of his identity. 

Everyone knew this was part of the scheme he laid out, everyone participated in his scheme. Only you didn't know. Only you foolishly believed that he wouldn't be alright without you, that he needed you to help him take revenge. That he had his difficulties so he couldn't confess the truth to you, as long as he did, then you would be the first to know everything. That he was your soulmate. This word "soulmate", if said enough times, it would even be real. In this life, right up until the end, we can't even fully understand ourselves, how do we talk about others?

----- 

the source is the top voted answer here. I like this poster a lot, she shared some great things throughout the course of the drama, 3 of which were the base of poems-related posts I’ve made here. I was doing fine before, but in the course of translating this answer for a friend, I made myself feel worse.

She later forced herself to look at it from WKX’s perspective and wrote a piece on it as well, but it... was very forced and I’m not too sure she even believed it herself. She ended that part with - “this made her feel very keenly that no matter how similar two souls may be, in the end, they are still two souls. He isn’t you and he will never be you. You can work endlessly and tirelessly to be closer, but your souls can never meet.”

I... I’m too sad to translate the WKX part in order to be fair to WKX in this post (if I feel better about it, i will later? but it didn’t make me feel better at all tbh) 

Can someone who can articulate well and believe that what WKX did was right, please help to make me understand episodes 32-34 from his perspective?

My main issues are:

We never got a proper 1-to-1 discussion between WKX and ZZS over the issue. At first, they were celebrating as a group, I can accept it. There wasn’t a time or place.

But when ZZS went back to his room early and sober, when everyone else was still drinking and having fun, I felt so bad for him.

When WKX came into his room, looking for ZZS when drunk, I know it isn’t supposed to be like this - but I can’t help but feel he didn’t dare to talk to A-Xu 1-to-1. Instead he went when he was drunk to spill his heart. It can be thought of as sweet, because the first person he thinks of when he’s drunk is A-Xu... but I can’t help but find it very selfish, because it leaves A-Xu with no way to talk about things. If you’ve ever talked to a drunk while sober, you would understand what I mean, it’s a one-way conversation, you can’t get anything through.

But that conversation left A-Xu with enough guilt that he can’t come clean to WKX about what he did. How can he tell WKX that he pulled out his nails, and is about to die. To take away WKX’s happiness, when Lao Wen just told him about how happy he was to have him in his life?

Lao Wen had 0 intention to be cruel, but it ended up being more cruel. And this lack of a proper discussion between the two of them, makes me call into question the whole thing about soulmates. I believe Lao Wen loves A-Xu the best he can (with his somewhat emotionally stunted self), but he’s not putting himself in the other person’s shoes to care for them. 

Love =/= care. And by not caring enough in this matter, I feel it’s thrown him into OOC. Where is the WKX who cared so much for ZZS at the start? Where is the tenderness? 

The drama never properly addressed why WKX faked his death and not tell A-Xu. The only reason they gave was that A-Xu was heavily injured (through Wu Xi). WKX just admitted he was wrong (and should drink). That’s all.

Thankssss. 

Please don’t preach to me about the happy ending or talk about the finale. I personally can’t resolve 32-34, I have found a way to accept the ending as long as I can accept these 3 episodes.

I may not be able to immediately accept your POV but I will force myself to try to find something that fits. I want to keep shipping wenzhou :( 

[willowcrowned]

For the meme:

She smiles at him, the hint of mirth in her expression matched with the predator’s satisfaction exuding from her every look. “First things first, Obi-Wan. I feel I should clarify that I never intended to become pregnant.”

He tilts his head slightly. “I was not aware,” he says smoothly, “that the Naboo had ethical issues with the termination of pregnancy.”

“We don’t,” she says, “but let’s not distract ourselves from the point at hand.” She pushes out her chair and gets up, not yet pregnant enough to render her graceless, and walks over to sit beside him. “Do you know what he said the first time I asked him how our political system should work?”

Obi-Wan cringes instinctively. He remembers Anakin’s thoughts on bureaucracy as a teenager, slowly growing more and more supportive of the ruthless militaristic sensibilities that Palpatine had clearly favored and yet unable to defend any of his points with the grace and eloquence expected of him.

“He said that people should sit down and actually talk about the problems.”

“Oh dear,” Obi-Wan murmurs.

“And that if they couldn’t, someone should make them.”

Obi-Wan lets the blow hit, willing himself not to grimace, and looks down, away from her. “He... has shown an affinity towards expediency over empathy.”

Padmé snorts, a sound that so completely startles him coming from her that he refocuses on her face. “He was arguing in favor of fascism, Obi-Wan. Let’s not mince words.”

Obi-Wan sighs. “I was being politic.”

“I’m his wife. You’re his friend. If we can’t acknowledge his faults without ‘being politic’ then we’ve already failed him.”

Obi-Wan concedes the point by inclining his head slightly, allowing her to continue.

“In any case,” she continues, “when I asked him who he thought should ‘make them’— his words, not mine— he said ‘Not me. Someone wise.’ I confess that, until that moment, I had been on the verge of sending for a different Jedi and suggesting very strongly that the Council keep a closer eye on him.”

Obi-Wan gives her a look. “Yes, he does have his moments of self-awareness.”

“He does,” she agrees, a genuine smile pulling at her lips, but her expression soon sobers as she refocuses her attention on Obi-Wan. “Do you know how large the political and commercial influence of a former queen of Naboo, let alone a senator for the entire sector, is?”

[Send me a <500 word snippet of my fic and I'll give you the equivalent of a DVD commentary track]

Of Love, Peace, and Restraint

Back in January, when I was writing this, I was very interested in the idea that a lot of what we see of Padmé in the films is from Anakin's perspective, and that a lot of who she is is obscured by Anakin's romance-cum-obsession. Writing OLPR was my way of sort of... negotiating with that—figuring out the kinks of who she might have been otherwise.

OLPR is very consumed with the idea that there's a lot going on outside Anakin's periphery, specifically with the people he cares about. Obi-Wan and Padmé do sort of exist to serve his character development in the movies—at the very least, George Lucas is much, much less interested in them than he is in Anakin—so reframing that as "the movies are interested in Anakin because Anakin is the viewpoint character, and Anakin is mostly interested in Anakin" made it possible to start mocking up my own character concepts for them, still in line with who they are in the movies, but a little more nuanced.

This snippet in particular is the lead up to Obi-Wan figuring out why Padmé is interested in Anakin romantically. As with the rest of the fic, it's fairly consumed with illustrating that there's a lot more going on with Obi-Wan and Padmé beneath the surface, and that the reason Anakin never picks up on it is because it's very subtle—all allusions and tiny gestures, and very very little plain speech. But the main focus of it is confronting the fact that Padmé willingly chose to marry a guy who thought fascism was the word of god.

In Smoke Raised with the Fume of Sighs, I go a very different route, and have her be a little... hm, I think the technical term is 'so out of her mind with loneliness and obsessed with love that she's willing to find excuses for almost everything provided she knows somebody loves her.' Here, there's still a lot of that—Padmé is finding excuses for him, and it's because she wants somebody to love her that she knows she can trust—but she also has a lot more faith in his goodness.

Part of the reason she does have that faith is because Anakin never Fell and killed children (which: yes I know he kills Tusken children, but I'd forgotten Padmé knew that when I wrote this), but part of it is that she just... doesn't think he wants to or is capable of seizing power for himself. And he doesn't! And he's not!

Obi-Wan knows this—and knows it very well—but he's still convinced Padmé is the normal sort of madly in love with him, and he can't picture her being fulfilled with him, because, well, Anakin doesn't operate the way Obi-Wan and Padmé do.

Part of the reason he's talking to her is to break up her and Anakin before she hurts Anakin irreparably. Padmé knows that, and knows what she wants, and her acknowledging Anakin's flaws here and then chastising Obi-Wan for refusing to name them (which he can't, because he'd need to reprimand Anakin if he acknowledged they existed, and he knows that reprimands don't work) is her way of proving to him that she can be good for Anakin in a way the Jedi can't be.

Anyways, that was very long and rambly. It's a piece that's very interested in navel gazing, and thinking about it just leads to more navel gazing.

tldr; Padmé's got a little too much faith in Anakin, and she's pulling power moves on Obi-Wan

[homesteadchronicles]

Original Writing Excerpt: “To Me”

Hello, my homies! I have an unexpected piece of writing to share with you all today, one not related to my known WIPs. Instead, this comes from the world I detailed here, one I’ve now been given permission to flesh out into a full-fledged story.

You don’t need to know the world in order to read, but I’ve provided the necessary context below in order to dive on in!

CHARACTERS:

Ero “Del’Gris” Idess: An intergalactic music idol in service to her agent, Kiladian Wellthane, who enlists her help in exposing his enemies’ corruption. Yoselle of the Starsea (”Ghost”): Ero’s bodyguard and long-time employee of Kiladian Wellthane whose unspoken feelings for Ero grieve him.

CONTEXT:

Ero and Yoselle have been dispatched by Kiladian to the Polaris Nightclub in order to secure information on the corrupt CEO of a pharmaceutical empire. When Ero botches her mission, she seeks comfort from a source both she and her target know can only lead to complications.

THE EXCERPT:

You are a specter: ethereal, immaterial, insignificant. She is a spotlight: illuminating, enticing, unyielding. These two halves cannot hold one another. These pieces fit different puzzles. But she needs something to elucidate and you did not hallucinate her invitation to centerstage. Still you skirt around the sidelines, flirting with shadows, fearful of exposure. She stands, a beacon in the clubhouse, awaiting your answer.

You refuse to reply.

Polaris, you convince yourself, requires better surveillance than the shoddy bodyguards provide it. Expensive liquor, lavish decor, and a distinct lack of security – the omen of emergencies. It was everything you loathed and Ero loved.

She didn’t seem to mind now, not that she ever had before. Why would she? She has you. Needs you. Wants you, a part of you thinks, hopes, refutes. Ero plays her role without shame. Flattery reserved a permanent space in her mouth and her lips make use of their eternal inhabitant to elicit information even when her hips were in motion.

Your place lies elsewhere. Astride. Afar. Procurer and protector both had their parts to play. Separately.

Then why does she keep staring at me?

It is your fifth circuit around the dance floor when you notice her attraction attention. Her gaze ought to be on your target, on Gentarou Hongou, on the mastermind of a corrupt pharmaceutical company. Her hand would bat his chest as her lashes bat her cheeks and he would indulge her as everyone always did. Their mission depended on his entanglement. Did she expect to seduce him with a half-given gaze?

Either Ero or Gentarou comes to the same conclusion, as she discreetly excuses herself to evacuate the floor and he does not even bother watching as she goes. You give chase, coming to a heel behind her as she reaches the dancing’s edge. Stress tugs her brows together. She has disappointed her target. Disappointed herself. Worse, you realize, she has disappointed Kiladian.

“You’re off your game,” you note. A comment and a question intermingle therein, indiscernible.

Ero maneuvers through the crowd with angered grace. Each foot falls just shy of stepping on another’s toes, the click of her heels on the metal beneath like a tongue snapping against bared teeth. “Hongou’s harder than I thought,” she mumbles, “and not in the way I need him to be.”

The bar comes quickly into focus as you follow her. It’s going to be a long night.

Ero glides into the shaky comfort of a barstool. Before you can intercept, she has the bartender concocting something with a name you won’t remember for a price you cannot fathom. Ero’s erratic when inebriated and adamant when infuriated – not a winning combo for their cause.

She beckons you over with a caress of the empty seat beside her and you stiffen. Your place is beneath behind her. But, for a moment, weariness cracks her mask and the lonely soul inside creeps out. “Ghost,” she drawls. Her fingers walk up your chestplate, eyes unblinking in unspoken expectation, and you will indulge her as you always have. “To me.”

The seat is filled before you can stop yourself.

Two drinks slide along the countertop and stop in front of them, one a glittering gray encrusted with crystal and the other a dusty yellow clouded by rising mist. Ero cradles the latter before acknowledging the former. “Oops. Looks like I ordered one too many.” Her tone holds no remorse, only mischief. She nudges the glass towards you. “Guess someone ought to keep me sober.”

You can’t deny that. Deny her. You drink.

Each sip is a burning kiss to your lips, searing all the way down until the sweetness kicks in thereafter. It’s easier to forget the sting when the aftertaste settles in. You swallow again. Again. Again, until you learn to love the flames, too.

Ero only toys with her order. It’s not her usual selection, not her Nightfire. The glass in front of her holds Del’Gris’ favorite - all flash and fruitiness - but no bite. Which means she believes the show must go on. Which means Del’Gris gets an encore.

You need to navigate this delicately. “Hongou gave you the slip?”

“He may as well have. Kiladian’s information was off – Hongou’s not involved.”

“You’re sure?”

Ero dips her head as if to nod before it droops in defeat. “Honestly? I don’t know. Making heads or tails of the man is more complicated than making eyes at him.” She retrieves the cherry inside her drink and rips it clean off the stem. “I’m not myself tonight.”

“That’s not true.” The words slip out before you can subdue them. An unfortunate error, but Ero appraises you with wide-eyed surprise and you wonder whether it was a blessing in disguise. “You were not Del’Gris tonight, true. Del’Gris holds every man captive in her grasp. But you were Ero tonight – and any glimpse behind the curtain is enough to fluster a lesser man like Hongou.”

Ero twists your words around in her mind like the stem she knots in her mouth. When she pulls the stem free, her answer spills out too. “You know me too well.”

Not as much as I’d like, you think. Still not enough to keep you safe. It is an unbidden - but honest - admission. Not one Ero would adhere to half-plastered and wholly penitent. You settle for “well enough to know when you’re not well.”

She scoffs into her cup, a bitter laugh against sweet liquor. “Can’t get any worse”. Ero raises her hand and requests another round of liquid courage: Nighfire on the rocks. It’s a slow burn, she told you once, reeking of booze and other bodies, just the way I like it.

You hadn’t liked it. Hadn’t liked the way her hair ensnared your shoulders, encircling you in her scent as you scraped her offstage. Hadn’t liked the lingering kindling of body heat. Hadn’t liked how much you dreamt of her touch afterwards.

The bartender brings her his poison and she tips it back in one go. Tipsy, but standing, Ero advances towards the dance floor. “Well, if our mission’s botched, must as well bust a move.” Half-lidded eyes hone in on you. “Don’t make me do it alone.”

There’s a plea beneath that tease, but the implications complicate your reaction. To stay would be wise. To go would be wine, a gradual inebriation, a delight today and a mistake tomorrow. A slow burn.

Noticing your hesitance, knowing your heart’s a mess, she approaches. “I’m not the only one unwell,” Ero whispers. Her tender denouncement strangles your judgment. “But we both have to choose health.”

She steps away. The crowd begins to swallow her, enclosing on all sides. Ero extends her hand to you. “Ghost,” she calls out. Her fingers curl inwards, a gambler clutching their stake. “To me.”

Your hand finds hers before you can stop yourself.

Polaris’ patrons shove you deeper into the throng of hedonism. Writhing bodies surround you on all sides, ushering you and Ero closer, closer, closer along to the beat of a song. You can’t make it out – not over the beat of your heart. 

But Ero can. She leans into you, giggles sending shockwaves against your skin, and it’s then you realize: the woman on the soundtrack is Del’Gris, but the one in your arms is Ero.

In my arms. The thought locks into place before you can register that your arms are, in fact, around her. Mechanically? Yes. Uncomfortably? Undoubtedly. Neither of you seem to mind, if the way she slides her hands around your neck and nuzzles into its crook is any evidence. 

Then again, you always were the problem. After all, what right have you to hold her after haunting her for so long?

“You’re overthinking it,” Ero says. You’re not the only one who knows the other too well. “Maybe I ought to take the lead.”

You both laugh at that, at yourselves, at everything that your twisted lives have led to because if you don’t laugh, you might both break. Then again, at least you’d crumble into one another.

Ero only leans back and leads on. Your hands keep her feet aloft, her back aligned. This imperfect rhythm, this imbalancing act, leaves you both in synchronized breathlessness.

Neon lights illuminate your mingling skin in a patchwork of discordant colors. They rise to wreath Ero in a heathen’s halo: green envy, violet ire, scarlet lust. The crowd around exalts her alias - “Del’Gris! Del’Gris! Del’Gris” - but Ero has only ever worshipped you.

Always the star, you muse, and I am but the planet trapped in orbit.

“They’re calling for their queen,” you tease.

“They’re calling for Del’Gris,” she clarifies, “but I believe someone requested Ero.”

“You must have heard a ghost.”

Whatever impish inclinations Ero might otherwise maintain were exorcised in an instant. Seriousness seats itself in place of playfulness, mouth thin and eyes taut. Her hand rises to graze his cheek. “Ghost you may be to everyone else, but you’re always Yoselle to me.”

You have been brutalized by mobsters, held for ransom by hitmen, and crushed by an atmospheric crucible more times than you can count, but nothing has ever taken hold of your heart half as hard as that. “I never mind playing the specter if it means shadowing you.” And it’s true. You would spend the rest of your days in obscurity if it meant skirting around her radiance.

But Ero has never been one to settle for second best.

“Oh, is that so?” That ruinous mischief reclaims her lilting smile as she presses herself inward, upward. “In that case,” she whispers and her breath is a phantom promise against your lips. “Ghost, to me.”

Your mouth finds hers before you can stop yourself.

[pretty-setter-bois]

toxic

     ‘I’LL BE LATE’. a small text, really. maybe it wouldn’t hurt so much if it hadn’t been sent so many times in the past. or if it had been sent at all, in fact.

today was wednesday, the fourth day of the week. this week, it was the fourth time suna was late, but the first time that he’d arrived hours after work without further notice.

you roll over on the couch, coming to the conclusion that the anxiety eating up at you wouldn’t stop anytime soon.

what if he’s gotten tired of me? what if he’s seeing someone else? what if he’ll leave me for someone better?

to anyone else’s perspective, your thought process of the relationship would’ve sounded completely toxic.

the sound of the big hand reaching twelve on the clock was loud. it always was.

eight o'clock.

your mind drifts back to the morning, where suna had been awfully quiet — much quieter than he usually was, anyway. 

“you sure you’ve had enough for breakfast?” you’d pestered.

“yeah, don’t ask me again.” he replied, a small hint of irritation in his usually relaxed tone.

“okay.” you answered, a bit hurt.

the rest of the morning was silent, and suna had left earlier than he usually did.

maybe i should text him, he’s been gone longer than he was for the last two days. but he did sound frustrated this morning, and he was complaining about me being clingy recently.

you decide against your negative thoughts — he was your boyfriend, after all, right?

8:12 PM

me

hey, can you tell me when you’re coming home?

after waiting for a few minutes without a response, you partake in an endless scroll along several apps on social media to take your mind off of the message you sent.

8:57 PM

rin <3

in a few minutes

you shut off your phone, feeling that if you stay on it for too long, you’d get your hopes up. in your dictionary, ‘a few minutes’ from suna meant a little under an hour. if only you could go back to when a few minutes meant a few minutes.

9:00 PM

me

stay safe!

seen

     “OI, SUNA,” WASHIO calls out in his deep voice. “don’t you think it’s time for you to go home?”

“what do you mean?”

“he’s kind of right.” komori says, stirring the ice in his drink. “wouldn’t (Y/N) be worried right now?”

he shrugs, taking his phone out at the mention of your name.

8:12 PM

(Y/N)

hey, can you tell me when you’re coming home?

he places his phone back in his pocket, eyes glancing over to the clock of the bar.

8:30 PM.

practice had ended three-and-a-half hours ago, to be exact. he’d spent the past hour joking around and poking fun at komori’s drinking habits, the time before that being post-practice training.

“i mean, you’ve been late a lot recently. i know if i had someone waiting for me at home, i’d try to avoid being late.” washio speaks again.

“ah, speaking of keeping someone waiting,” komoya stands up. “i’m supposed to be picking sakusa up after his practice, so i’ll get going now.”

“goodbye.” washio nods.

“later.” suna salutes.

after paying his bill, komoya places on his jacket and leaves.

“you might wanna lay off on the drinking a little.” washio suggests.

“we don’t have practice tomorrow, it’s coach’s daughter’s birthday.” suna replies, downing what remained of his drink.

“and friday-”

“is also off, coach has to go to that ‘all japan’ meeting for the coaches in the prefecture.”

“still, it is not wise to consume all of this-”

“another one!” suna calls out to the bartenders.

it was hard to believe how different he could be after a night of drinking. his usual introverted, lazy-self almost transformed after a few glasses of the intoxicated drinks.

this time, he drinks the glass all in one sip, ignoring washio’s warnings of protest.

"suna, it's starting to get late." washio sternly states.

"mhm." suna replies, taking his phone out of his pocket to text you.

8:57 PM

me

in a few minutes

the middle blocker quickly rises to his feet after that, forgetting the 200 milliliters of alcohol he’d consumed a few minutes ago.

he wobbles on his feet, trying to see what was in front of him despite the dark, recurring spots that obstructed his vision.

"hey, suna!" he faintly hears.

his teammate pays the bill, placing the middle blockers arm around his shoulder and taking his leave.

     THE SOUND OF the doorbell was loud in your empty, melancholic apartment, causing your heart to jump and your body to rattle after it. you hastily make your way to the door, half confused and half terrified.

rarely anyone rang the doorbell, and when they did, suna answered it. what if suna was at the door? he usually had his own key, so he didn't need to knock.

you open the door, greeted by the sight of washio struggling to hold a half-asleep suna.

"what happened?" you ask, worried.

"ah, he ended up getting a little carried away..." he sheepishly admits.

suna practically throws himself onto you, head nuzzling into your shoulder.

"thank you, washio-san. sorry for the trouble." you apologize.

"it was nothing at all." he shakes his head. "have a good night."

"you too." you nod, closing the door after he'd left.

"(N/N)." suna mumbles.

your breath hitches. it had been ages since he's called you that. in fact, ages since he's been so touchy.

he often kept his distance from you now, only speaking to you when he was asking you where something was in the apartment or telling you that you need to go grocery shopping.

"yeah?" you respond.

"i'm tired."

"alright, come on."

you take him to the bathroom, pulling down the toilet seat for him to sit on while you brushed his teeth. you'd rather him whine about being sleepy rather than getting a cavity.

when he finished that, you gave him a change of clothes to put on before he'd slept. him, of course, being half-asleep already, couldn't tell half of what was happening, and you ended up helping him in the end.

you'd led him to bed after that, covering him in sheets and wishing him a goodnight. as you began to stand up, he grabs your wrist.

"(Y/N)." he whines a little, voice softer than before.

"yeah, rintaro?"

"don't leave me alone."

the words take a few minutes to register in your mind.

don't leave me alone.

maybe you'd made up the entire morning. what if he was just grumpy? everyone's grumpy in the morning, so it wouldn't make a difference if suna was.

besides, his nature was being lazy. maybe he was just a bit tired and wanted to go on with his day. they say a sober mans thoughts are a drunk mans words, right?

you glance at his face, an innocent expression donning his sleepy features. how could someone like this ever wrong anybody?

"just give me a few minutes." you finally, breathily exclaim.

he gives what you assume is a nod, and you head into the bathroom to brush your own teeth and change.

when you come back, suna's already fast asleep. he looks so peaceful, so happy.

you'd give anything to see him like that again, even if it meant to unintentionally lose yourself in the process.

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TAGLIST ☆☎☂♔

@stfucanunot ​@sunaswife​

NOTES ☀♕❣⁂ღ

i hope i got this write hehe.

[nooneelsecomesclose17]

Go to the ends of the earth for you - Part 1

I truly have no idea where all this writing is coming from, and I have no willpower to actually sit on a fic until it's finished before posting, so enjoy.

I've tried to research but I'm probably WAY off here with any charges etc but soap magic...just enjoy it and don't take much notice of reality!

(AO3 link)

“Well it’s not quite that simple.” Ethan pipes up and Aaron spots a tiny roll of his eyes as he looks from Vic to Cain. “From what I’ve been told, you did actually hit this Lee Posner, but I don’t think it should’ve been classed as GBH with intent originally, which automatically became a murder charge.”

“Wait, are you saying Wise trumped up the charges on purpose? Why?” He reaches for Robert’s hand again, he sounds completely bewildered and he doesn’t blame him, his own head is spinning.

“Not exactly. What I’m saying is, all of his convictions are now in doubt. We’re talking cases going back years.” That has him freezing, gripping Robert’s hand even tighter because if they were looking at everything then that meant…He stops himself from going down that road, there was nothing they could do, Gordon was dead, it was over. “It means there’s a case for your charge to be reduced to involuntary manslaughter, or more technically subjectively reckless manslaughter because it can be argued that you didn’t actually intend to kill him, and given the harassment you were subjected to. I don’t know why your last solicitor didn’t make more of that really.” Aaron can’t help raising an eyebrow at that. “Which would obviously carry a much lighter sentence than a murder charge. I think, even with the absconding we could get a sentence of eighteen months to two years, likely only half of which would be custodial.”

Aaron’s not sure how long they’d been there, not speaking, the only sound was Seb’s occasional giggles as he watched a cartoon. Robert’s standing at the window staring out over their garden and he’s in the chair by the fireplace watching.

“Robert, talk to me.”

“I don’t know what to say.” He’d barely said a word since Ethan had spoken. It had been left to Aaron to convince them to leave them to it, give them some time alone. Vic had protested, Cain had complained about the cold, and in the end he’d all but shoved them out the door. Only Ethan had nodded an understanding and Aaron was glad of it. He still had no real idea who the guy was but he seemed alright. He knew Vic wouldn’t stay away that long and still he and Robert hadn’t spoken. “It doesn’t feel real.”

“We need to decide what to do though, because I know your sister and she’s going to be banging the door down soon enough.”

“You want to go home don’t you?”

He doesn’t answer straight away because honestly he doesn’t know. Going home means Robert going to prison, albeit for a much shorter time. It means seeing his family again, dealing with all that stress. But it also means Robert won’t be classed as a murderer any more, it means they can go where they like, when they like without worrying about what’s round the next corner. It means they can have Seb back in their lives.

“Aaron? It’s ok if you do.” Finally he turns round.

“What do you want?” A shrug is all he gets. “I can’t make this decision alone Robert, we both have to agree on this. What are you thinking? I’m not going to get mad or ‘owt, but I need to know.”

“I don’t…” He perches on the arm of the sofa, hand running through Seb’s hair. “I don’t know that I want to go back to the village. I’m always going to be the Robert Sugden who killed someone, the Robert Sugden who cheated, there’s too much history and not much of it good.”

“Ok, so we find somewhere else.”

“Just like that?” He nods. It’s simple enough to him. “I’ll still go inside.”

“Yeah.” The thought of it alone leaves him cold. “You will, but it could be just a year Rob, maybe less with a great barrister. We were expecting that anyway weren’t we? And I’ll be there, every week, I promise.”

“What if…what if they decide it’s murder anyway? I did kill him, DS Wise didn’t lie about that?”

“I don’t think Cain would’ve come to us with this if he wasn’t sure. That Ethan seems to know what he’s talking about. If we go back then we just have to take a big leap of faith. But if you don’t think you can do it then we’ll just stay where we are.”

“Without him?” He nods at Seb. He was the major sticking point. It was clear that neither of them was truly bothered about going back to Emmerdale, but staying meant Seb wouldn’t be with them, he’d have to go back to Vic.

“How are you…I mean about Rebecca?” He’d not said a word when Vic had told him about the accident, how she’d been called by social services looking for next of kin for Seb.

“I…everything I didn’t want for him is happening. I let him down, left him behind, he’s lost his Mum…how did this happen Aaron? It was all going to be so different for him.”

“You can’t make life perfect Robert, all you can do is deal with what comes along. He’s loved, he’s safe and he looks fairly happy to me. Surely that’s the main thing.”

“Maybe. Doesn’t help us decide what to do though, does it?”

“Talk to Ethan again, just you and him, no interference from anyone. Find out how sure he is about all this, and then whatever you decide is what we do.” He knew already, he knew Robert wouldn’t leave his son again, and there was nothing tying them to the village anymore, they could go where they pleased, just like they could now he supposed, but this way they’d be together. He just needed Robert to come to that realisation himself.

—————

“Ready?” He puts the key into the ignition, looking over at his husband. All he gets is a nod. “Right then.”

They’d decided to go home, like he’d known they would. Robert hadn’t wanted Seb living with Vic, he wanted him with them. He’d always be grateful for her taking him in when she had her own newborn to cope with, but he couldn’t leave him without his Daddies any longer.

“You know I won’t get bail don’t you?”

“Yeah. Like Ethan said though they want all this sorted so they’ll get to you pretty quick. Besides one of the advantages of remand is I can come and see you every day.”

“You don’t have to.”

“Don’t be an idiot. Besides I’ll be glad to get out of the village won’t I? By the time you get out I’ll have everything sorted and then we can go where we like. Can even come back here if you want.”

“You’d want that?”

“Sure. Seb would love it here, he could grow up bilingual and all.”

“That’d be handy seeing as your French ends up getting us into trouble.” Their laughter fills the car for a few moments before Robert sobers. “We’re really doing this, I’m really handing myself in?”

“Looks like it. Ethan’s going to meet us at the train and go with you, and I’ll carry on back to the village.” They’d been over and over it. He’d wanted to go with him and Ethan but as Robert reasoned there was little point, he wouldn’t be able to see him once he was arrested. All he could do was go back and wait by the phone. “I’ll book in at the B&B.”

“You could go to Mill, you own half of it.” Robert tells him as they head out onto the main road, the cottage disappearing from sight in the rear view mirror.

“No. I don’t want to go there now. It’s not home anymore. Paddy saw to that.”

“Are you going to see him again?” Robert sounded concerned and he couldn’t blame him.

“I doubt I’ll have a choice. No doubt Mum will be round as soon as she knows I’m there. Don’t worry, I can handle him. All I’m interested in is seeing Seb, getting all that sorted, and visiting you. Everything else can wait.”

“I wish I was coming back with you. I don’t like you being there alone.”

“Like I told you when we left, getting arrested for murdering Paddy isn’t going to help our situation is it. I’m done Robert, I’ve seen now, I know what was going on and that’s it, it’s not happening anymore. I’ll be fine.”

“Hmm.” He looks over, then pulls the car into a lay-by.

“Listen to me, when you’re in there, I don’t want you worrying about me, ok? I need you to concentrate on yourself, getting yourself through it, keeping safe and out of trouble.” Robert nods. “We’re going to get through this, and then it’s just going to be you and me, and Seb and we’re going to live our best lives. Trust me.”

“I always have.”

The rest of the drive is quiet, only his chatter about nothing in particular breaking the silence, trying his best to keep Robert’s mind off everything that’s coming. He’s relieved when Robert falls asleep, needing the peace just as he had when they were making the reverse journey. This felt much harder, going home, leaving Robert for who knew how long. He had to be strong, to not let Robert see how worried he was. For so long it had been Robert who was the strong one, the one he knew he could always lean on, even when Robert himself needed someone. This last year he’d been the strong one, trying to keep them both together and he just had to do that a little while longer.

————

“How much longer?” Robert’s pacing and driving Aaron slightly crazy. They were parked up near the station, waiting for Ethan.

“Come here.” He holds a hand out to him, waiting until he relented and sat beside him on the bonnet of the car. “He’ll be here.”

“I just want it over with.”

“I know. He text me, he’s nearly here, and he’s set up a meeting with one of his colleagues so we can get the ball rolling on Seb coming home to us.”

“Don’t bring him. To prison. I don’t want him to see me in there.”

“Ok.” It wasn’t as if Aaron wanted to take Seb into that place either. “But don’t you go getting any ideas about cutting off my visits. I know you, you’ll get some noble idea in your head, but don’t. I’m going to be there as much as I can, like I told you.”

“I promise.” He looks round, seeing a car pull in next to them, recognising Ethan in the driver’s seat. “Well…”

Now the moment is here, Aaron doesn’t want him to go, wants to hold onto him as long as he can.

“Sooner you go, sooner you’re home, right?” He gets up, relieved Ethan’s staying in the car, giving them some time. “Call me, the minute you can.”

“I will.” He can’t help it, steps closer, holding onto both his hands, foreheads touching, savouring every moment. “I love you so much.”

“Love you too.” He still doesn’t move, not until he hears a car door open and Ethan’s quiet cough behind him. “You better go.”

“I could come through with you.”

“If they stop you it’s better you’re with a solicitor. It’ll be just as hard to leave wherever we are.” He kisses him then, trying to commit the feel of him to memory, hoping it won’t be that long before he comes home. “Go on. I’ll see you soon.”

He watches him go, eyes locked with his until the car has turned and he can’t see his face any longer. Only then does he get back into his own car.

———-

The village looks exactly the same as he pulls to a stop outside the B&B. It’s mid afternoon and there are people milling around although he doesn’t recognise them. He can see Vic’s car outside the house and he decides to go over later, to see Seb, but first he wants to get inside the B&B without running into anyone he knows.

“Well, well, well, look who the cat dragged in.” He can just manage a tired smile when he hears his Gran’s voice. “The proverbial black sheep.”

“I’m too tired for a lecture Gran.”

“No lectures here love. You’re not the only one on the naughty list this year. Now, I guess you’re after a room?” He nods. “Just you?”

“Yeah.” He tries really hard but he can’t help but check his phone again. It’s on it’s loudest setting along with vibrate, he doesn’t want to miss a call, but there’s nothing. “I don’t know how long for.”

“Here you go, number five. Go on, I’ll bring you up a nice hot cuppa. You look like you need it.”

He all but collapses in the chair when he gets to the room, worn out and worried. It’s the first time since he first came to the village that he feels as though he has nowhere to go. Now he’s here, it’s harder than he thought. Knowing his family are right there and could come up to him at any time isn’t at all comforting. He knows he has Cain to go to for help, but other than that he’s not sure who to turn to.

Just as there’s a knock on the door his phone rings. Grabbing it he answers as he opens the door to his Gran.

“Hello?”

“Hi.” Robert’s quiet and he holds the phone closer as if that will make him closer to him.

“Robert. You ok?”

“Yeah. Are you home?”

“Just now. Gran’s just brought me a cuppa. Where are you?”

“Still at the station. They’re moving me soon I think, I don’t…I don’t know if I can do this Aaron.”

“Yeah you can. You’re stronger than you think you are Rob, and you’ve got me, and you’ve got Seb and we love you. We’ll be right here, whether you like it or not.” He wipes his tears away with his sleeve, sensing his Gran sitting beside him. “We’re not going anywhere.”

“I know. I have to go.”

“Yeah. Get Ethan to let me know where you are and I’ll come and visit as soon as I can…You know.”

“I know.” He’s barely hung up when his Gran is gathering him up and holding him as the tears he’s been holding in since they made the decision to come back finally fall.

“Come on now love, this isn’t going to help him.”

“I know.” It was just everything finally getting too much, he’d held it all together until he knew Robert was as safe as he could be and now he couldn’t do it any longer.

“Come on, drink up and then go over and see that little boy of yours.”

“I don’t know. I’m not really up to running into Mum, or Liv, or Paddy, not yet. Might just stay here tonight.”

“Wallowing isn’t going to help. I know for a fact that your Mum has taken your little sister into Hotten and Paddy was complaining of a day full of calls this morning so you should be just fine. Liv’s at college.”

“Sister? I thought…”

“We all did love. Bit of a surprise. They called her Eve, bonny little thing she is too. Didn’t Cain tell you?”

“I didn’t ask. Last time I text Mum she didn’t reply so…” He’d taken it to mean she’d sided with Paddy, wasn’t surprised. How often in the past had she sided with anyone but him. “She’s…she’s ok right?”

“Perfect. I’m babysitting tomorrow in fact so I’ll introduce you.” That makes him smile and he nods. “Now, like I said, go see that little boy of yours. You can’t do anything for Robert right now, it’s time to take care of yourself.”

———-

He’s just leaving Keeper’s when he sees Ethan’s car and he jogs over. An evening with Seb had been just what he needed and he’d only left when he’d put him to bed.

“Ethan! Do you know where he is? Can I visit?” He realises he’s being a bit over the top when he opens the car door for him. “Sorry. I…spoke to Robert. Was he ok when you left?”

“He’s ok. He’s been moved to Hotten remand centre, and he should get a court date in a few days. You can visit tomorrow.”

“Thank you, for everything…and it’s like you said? Involuntary manslaughter?”

“The prosecution are willing to go with that charge. Like I said before they want all this to go away. Given Robert’s lack of previous convictions, the mitigating circumstances, the fact he’s not a threat to the wider community and his guilty plea, I’m pretty confident. Try not to worry.”

“Why are you helping us? You don’t even know us.”

“I won’t lie, this kind of case for a relatively new solicitor, it’ll give me a leg up. Mostly it was because Victoria wouldn’t let me rest until I did.”

“That sounds about right. Well, whatever the reason, thank you. You don’t know how much this means. I owe you.”

“Well I don’t do this for free.” He laughs, he likes him. “But you can always buy me a drink if we happen to meet in the pub.”

“I’m not sure you should have to pay for a drink again for doing this. Thanks again.”

“Anytime.”

He looks up at the pub when Ethan’s gone, knows it’s inevitable he’ll have to go in at some point but he’s not ready. The whole place feels alien to him now, their little sanctuary in France feels so far away and Robert feels even further.

He takes one more look before turning away and going back to the B&B. It can wait. Now he just wants to get through his first night without Robert.

[thesleepy1]

Death’s Imminent Door

A/N: I need more Eskel fics. That’s all. Also, writing prompt from @whumpster-dumpster “Kiss with bruised lips”. There was also, “Dying breath kiss,” and, “Kiss with trembling lips,” but I thought we’ll go for something more light hearted today. I thought, but let this be a warning that I’m not good at fluff. Unbeta’d as always. 

 Pairings: Eskel x Reader

 Summary: You’re injured in a fight defending Eskel’s honor.

 Word count: 1651

 Warnings: Violence, blood, injury, language, hurt/comfort, fluff, angst, suggestive language, whump,

 To be fair you shouldn’t have even been there. Eskel had long retired for the night and was peacefully sleeping in the room upstairs. You on the other hand wanted another drink. That was a mistake. 

 Everything was fine for the most part. You enjoyed a tankard, a drop of ale sliding down the corner of your mouth. There was a bard, not Geralt’s, singing in the tavern. Some song about sleeping with a goat or some sort of lucid dream the man had. You weren’t sure and at the time you didn’t really care. 

 “Just like that witcher!” 

 You sobered instantly at the mention of your partner in hand and trail. “What did you just say?!” you slurred, slamming your almost empty tankard down. A tremble shot up your arm but you shook it off, standing as tall as your drunk self could allow. “Say that to my face, bastard!”

 “Oh it’s the witcher’s bed warmer.”  

 “With a dick as big as his, gladly!” You took large strides to the equally drunk man who had dared to taint Eskel’s honor. To your surprise he was the same height and of a smaller build. All talk and no bite. This fight will be easy...unfortunately for you, it was not.

 “Oh, so you admit you spread your legs for that goat fucker!” the man yelled, spit flying out of his mouth. He stank of ale and week old hay, likely a local stable man. 

 “At least he’s not the one letting the horses outside fuck his ass open,” you shot back, an audience growing. The bard was strumming a tone played at debates and tense scenes in plays. He would have gotten on your nerves if you weren’t focused at the scum of the continent in front of you. 

 “What did you just call me?” 

 “Sorry, do you still have horse cu-” 

 Before you knew it a fist came in harsh contact with the side of your face. Too drunk to stay afoot you fall back onto the table behind you. A couple enjoying their date lept in surprise at your semi conscious figure on their dinner. 

 “Too busy getting fucked to learn how to fight?” 

 “No,” you stumbled out, standing on wobbling feet. “Just too busy riding your h-” Another punch came your way but this time you blocked it, twisting his arms and slamming his body on the floor. He groaned and choked out a sob, grabbing onto your unsteady leg. Pulling it forward he brought you down onto the floor with him. 

 Out of the corner of your eye as you fell, a barmaid scurries upstairs to where Eskel rests. “Already cheating on that witcher with the pretty barmaid?” the man brought your attention back to himself. 

 “I wouldn’t dream of it,” you roll yourself on top of him, straddling his torso and sending fist after fist to his face. Your knuckles were bleeding and he was screaming, bloodied face such a beautiful sight. It was a joy before someone roughly pulled you off of him. 

 “Get off of him, you bastard!” a different barmaid shouted, tugging at your arms and for some reason your clothes. 

 “Hold the fucker down,” the man on the floor ordered, slowly pulling himself together with whimpers. Blood was trickling down his neck and his clean shirt was red with it all. You couldn’t help but smirk at your handiwork.

 “What are you smirking at?” 

 “I saw a big stallion in the stable earlier. You were brushing his coat awfully well. One could only think why-” 

 With the new barmaid holding you down and the man on his feet you really should’ve shut up but you couldn’t help it. His fists were smaller than yours but packed the same amount of force. While you enjoyed watching as blood coated his face, smiling even. He was getting angrier and angrier. Each punch was worse than the one before and that was prior to when he brought his booted foot into the mix. 

 Your groans began to fill the tavern but were mostly drowned out by the cheers of the crowd. The bard began a quicker tune, leaping up onto a table to dance. He twirled and sang like you weren’t being beaten to a pulp. The couple whose date you ruined joined the man in the fun, trading hits and cheers.

 The ale in your system helped with most of the pain but you could feel your body going slack. Unconsciousness was edging it’s way into your mind. Sleep seemed like a blissful option in comparison to the beating, but waking up wasn’t guaranteed. 

 Oh wouldn’t that be a sight, Eskel waking up to take a new contract the next town over only to see your unmoving husk of a form on the floor. Dried blood coating your barely recognizable face, your clothes torn and ripped from your still body. You weren’t sure what the barmaid wanted with your clothes but she would probably take them off if given the chance. 

 He would be angry, livid really. Sobbing in the dead of night where no one could judge him. The two of you weren’t the type to constantly tell each other you loved them throughout the day. You showed that with actions. Helping him sharpen his swords, setting up camp, defending his honor in a bar fight. 

 Unable to bear to see his grief stricken face, you hesitantly opened your eyes. They were swollen, that was obvious even without a mirror. And the rest of you wasn’t fairing all that well either, but you were alive. That was something to be proud of. 

 “Oh look, the bed warmer is awake,” the man taunted, taking your tankard and pouring what remained over your head. The ale against your open wounds stung and you gasped, biting your tongue to suppress a scream. 

 “What are you stopping for? I want to mark up this pretty skin,” the barmaid snarled behind you with a grin. The tavern suddenly grew quiet. Even the bard stopped playing, stepping down from the table, his eyes never left what was behind you. 

 Your movement was limited but you managed to look over your shoulder. Eskel in all of his shirtless, disheveled glory was at the foot of the stairs, a glare and the remanence of potions evident on his face. His eyes were a dulling dark gray, the black veins faded but still present. Gods and whoever was listening you wanted him to stare you down as he took you against the wall. Unrelenting in his haste to finish and rough with need. 

 “Lovely evening isn’t it, love,” you greeted nonchalantly, unable to feel your legs.

 “Care to tell me what happened?” Eskel asked in fake calmness. You have been with him long enough to know when he was seconds from stabbing the nearest person in the heart.  

 “Oh nothing much, love. Just some imbecile, horse fucker, baby killing, grime under my foot, bastard decided it was wise to call you some ill choice words in my presence,” you explained, your eyes drooping in an attempt to stay awake. You were alive, you told yourself. Eskel will be fine. You will be fine. Just a night’s rest and you will be as good as new the next morning. 

 “Would you like to tell me who?” his dark gaze swept across the room. Everyone was frozen in their place, smart enough to know when they were at death’s imminent door. 

 “Just her, him, and those two,” you gestured with your eyes but was unsure how much Eskel was able to catch. He could always smell the blood from their bleeding knuckles, so really you had no need to keep your eyes open. “That annoying bard had something to do with it but I can’t remember.” 

 You didn’t have the energy to keep your head on your neck and just let it fall. The barmaid dropped you immediately, but Eskel was quick enough to catch you. He grabbed onto you, his grip a little too tight in sensitive areas but he lightened his hands when he noticed the spike in your heart beat. A growl was building deep within his chest from the sight of your injured form. 

 “I recommend you run while you can,” Eskel spoke to the people in the tavern, already having memorized the faces and scents of the people you pointed out. He’ll give them mercy, a night before he ripped their spines from their backs and their egos from their groins. 

 “Can you stay awake for me, darling?” Eksel whispered to you, his arms underneath your legs and chest. 

 “Only If you’ll have me against the wall,” you mumbled, barely able to sense what was happening. Before you knew it you were in the inn room, a still warm bed underneath your aching body. 

 “Just open your eyes for me, darling,” Eskel forced out a timid chuckle. An ache grew from your chest, and not due to the beating. Your poor witcher was afraid you wouldn’t wake up when the sun came up. He had nothing to worry about. You could still feel the upper half of your body. That was something. 

  “Can’t get enough of my beautiful orbs?” you joked, your voice much weaker than you realized. Some job you did reassuring him, he sounded like he was about to cry. 

 “Never enough.” He planted a soft kiss onto your bruised lips. So caring in your injury, he made sure to not apply too much pressure onto the wounds. 

 Before you woke the next day, because you did, although a bit late into the noon, Eskel had gone out to hunt. Not for food, oh no. For sport. 

 Five bodies laid in the stables for the stable boy to see; the stable man, a couple, a barmaid and a bard with the neck of his gittern through his own neck.