#I had to research the topic to settle this (it was never settled)

[ndostairlyrium]

Wing-it commission for @idolsgf / @blightbear featuring A BABY <3 been fangirling over Bohean for a while, the fact I could draw him sent me over the moon ;u;

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[honey-pages]

Study Date - Viktor x Reader

Description -

Viktor waits for you in the library for an unexpected study date.

1.9k Words.

Part 2

F/M. 18+. Smut. Semi-Public Sex. Fingering. Dirty Talk.

Your project was due soon - next Wednesday, and with all the work that went into the subject you were working on, you desperately needed some focused library time. Maybe borrowing some books, writing down your initial thoughts, and annotating your materials would clear your brain. You were assigned an important research topic not long ago, by your supervisor and it was imperative that it was done quickly and accurately. The library was not far from your room and warm at this time of night. They liked to give out blankets on loan at the door, it wasn’t unusual for researchers to work overnight or with the aid of supplements to allow them to focus for longer periods of time, usually spanning until morning.

As you approach the main entrance, you pick up a blue blanket and scan your identification card. The staff at the desk smile at you as you walk through, you are familiar with them, and they are accustomed to your presence there. You climb the first set of stairs, undecided on where to go. The library seemed empty tonight. You climb another set of stairs. At the top was a sharp corner leading to your favourite seating area. In an alcove surrounded by bookshelves is a small desk with four chairs, and seated there, almost like he was waiting for your appearance, was Viktor.

You were not surprised to find him here; he was a busy man. You were however a little confused as to why he wasn’t in his lab and was instead in your favourite study spot. The library was a silence only zone on the floor you had reached and as you looked over at Viktor, he raised his gaze and held eye contact with you, a smile slowly seeping across his face. He pats the chair directly next to him, summoning you forward.

You had always felt a certain appreciation for him. The way he worked, his personality, his cause. You cared deeply for him, not only as a friendship, but intimately. You hadn’t figured he was interested in that kind of relationship. He was always so invested in his work; it didn’t appear he had much time for more. But sometimes at night, your mind wandered, and you pondered a reality in which he did. What would he do? Who was he interested in? You had hoped, in that reality, that it would be you - but you could never be sure. Quick glances were untrustworthy, and kind words can always be misinterpreted, though sometimes you were sure you noticed something in your interactions that was different: intimate.

You watched him closely as you approached the seat, admiring him. You perhaps hadn’t realised the extent of thoughts you had about him. You felt fluttery and a little weak but that was nothing more than you felt towards him on the regular. Settling down into the seat, you slung your bag against the leg of the table and pulled out your books, setting the blanket down over your lap.

In a hushed whisper from your left came, “Hello (Y/N), it’s nice to see you here, I was wondering when you would show.”

He faced the paper he was working on. On the table splayed out were multiple thick tomes and sheets of paper littered with equations and lines of handwritten notes.

“I should say the same”, you replied, flattered that he had been waiting for you, “it’s so rare to see you out of the lab. What are you working on?”

He swipes his hand, referencing the mass of papers in front of him, “oh nothing. A mechanised power fist for a robot that needs some tinkering with.”

He looks up at you with the last of these words, smiling at your interest in his work, even if he does downplay its importance. In his time away from his main work, he is focusing on improving and fixing his personal projects. You had heard whispers previously about a robot he had been working on. It was not common knowledge around those who studied in your department. You returned the smile.

There was an alert over the announcement system, “Please be aware that this floor is a dedicated silent area. Thanks for your cooperation”

Viktor made a mock grimace before shrugging and smirking, “I feel someone would like us to be quieter.”

You smirk back at him, settling back to face forwards in your chair. You hadn’t realised that your body had turned to face him, hips angling at his knees. Your body language was betraying your attraction. In some ways, in acknowledgement to his intelligence, you figured he must know. He is simply too smart to not realise that you felt the way you did.

You tried to immerse yourself in your work, however his presence did become somewhat of a distraction. Just his proximity to you made you feel seen and watched. You spent what felt like an hour within your own thoughts, sometimes drifting in between fantasies about him, and unfocused thoughts of your deadline.

Viktor placed his hand on your thigh.

A burning surge ran through your body to your stomach, your leg felt hot where his hand lay. You were in disbelief, as though all the ambiguous questions you had were instantaneously answered and you were given an impossible positive answer. You felt your internal organs drop and raise, replaced with butterflies. There was silence. You stole a glance to your left, to his face. He was completely stone faced and confident in his focus on his work. Is this why he saved you a seat?

You shifted slightly, Viktor flinched his hand away, startled. “Oh sorry, have I misread, do you not- “

Without thinking you reach and grab Viktor’s hand and replace it where it had just been. A silent gesture of reassurance that he is exactly where you want him to be. He smirks once again, removing his hand once more. He reaches down for the corner of your blanket, pulling it over the laps of you both, before slipping his hand underneath, allowing it to rest where it just was but now out of sight. The library was not even half full, and no one was looking at you both closely, but the secrecy of his touch and its closeness to your inner thigh made you feel fuzzy.

If previously you couldn’t focus, you had no hope now. He holds your attention firmly, all you can think of is him, his hand, his fingers, his-

His hand slides further to your inner thigh. You freeze. You steal another glance at his face but this time he catches you; your eyes meet.

“Viktor, I- “you manage to murmur.

“Miss (Y/N), this is a quiet space, please, focus.”

As he holds your gaze, the corners of his mouth raised, he slides his hand further forward, holding it firmly at the seat of your trousers, pressing and nudging at the sensitivity there. Your mouth drops open slightly and he notices, chuckling lightly and turning back to his work. He props his head up on his other hand, rubbing his chin in faux concentration. He shuffles closer to you, changing his angle as he rubs and grinds his fingers into you.

You watch others pass by the entrance of the alcove, some smiling in recognition at you, some your friends from previous research projects. Thankfully no one stops to talk. Maybe it is Viktor’s presence that makes you unapproachable, he could be quite intimidating. You shuddered at the thought of how you looked together, sharing a blanket with his arm dangerously close to you, it appeared innocent but was so indecent.

Viktor's hand moved from you and snaked up your hip to push its way down into your trousers. He flattens and slides under the hem of your underwear, lying flat against the front of you. You try to remain calm and hide your squirming, but inevitably, your hips begin to grind on their own. They slowly lower, pushing up against the middles of his fingers, before raising up, pushing your clit desperately against the tips. This repeats for a few long slow grinds, however on the last, as your hips raise, his fingertips flick forward against you, making you jolt in your chair and elicit a sharp though quiet moan.

“Careful now, you don’t want people to see what I’m doing to you, do you?” He purred.

He moves his other hand from his chin to the desk, laying it flat before lifting it again to raise a paper closer to his face, reading intently. His middle finger slides between your folds, dipping itself into the wetness. You stifle yourself. He pushes his middle finger inside gently, making you take the full length of it slowly.

You stammer, “Viktor- “.

At the sound of his name, he inserts another finger.

“Viktor!”

You both look up. Jayce stands by the entrance of the library floor holding up a folder.  Viktor's fingers do not cease, slipping in and out of you deliberately. Jayce quickly approaches your table, throwing down his things on the table in front of you.

“I finally found the blueprints you were looking for this morning, I thought I’d bring them by you.”

Jayce smiles at you warmly, you are both acquainted after being on a work trip together, he quickly makes small talk and relates that it is nice to see you and Viktor together.

“I thought I would have to introduce you to each other, you seem so well suited!” Jayce beams.

Viktor slides in a third finger, looking toward Jayce to give thanks for the folder.

“Ah! Very helpful, thank you. Miss (Y/N) here is helping me look through the documents. It’s somewhat of a study date.” Viktor chimes.

Your core is as tightened as you can make it, focusing completely on not showing anything more than the light blush which is already painting your cheeks. You knew Viktor was collected but how is he so calm right now? Jayce makes a further comment about the two of you together before turning and exiting by the stairs. The speed increases, Viktor’s fingers getting messier and sliding more easily between the folds, holding you open and hungry. He slides his fingers up to your clit, circling and flicking at the heat there.

“The way you are handling this is incredible (Y/N). So composed, so beautiful when I’m inside of you.”

Your grinding is less controlled now and Viktor’s hand is fully wet, your underwear clinging damply to the back of his hand.

“Do you think that if I did this? - “Viktor adds pressure to your clit, you feel the rising feeling of your orgasm building. “-again and again, I could ruin you in the library?”

His growled words were sending you over the edge.

“Viktor, I’m going to- “. Your hips were rapidly meeting his hands. Viktor increases his rhythm on the downward motion, he begins to curl his fingers up, sliding against the hot tight core inside you. As he repeatedly met it with his fingers, you felt your wetness drip and pool in the base of his palm.

“You sound so sweet like this, coming over my fingers in the library where anyone could see. I had no idea you were so dirty Miss (Y/N)’”

His fingers are hitting all the right places, and the building pressure is rising to a blinding white light. Your hips seem to freeze in motion, and he takes full advantage, pushing and grinding you over the edge. Your hands grip around his forearm and he revels in your stifled moans as you come over his fingers. He lightly chuckles, burying his face into your neck to whisper in your ear.

“I have work to attend to in the lab if you could be of assistance?”

[alotofpockets]

Staring | Leah Williamson x Interviewer!Reader

Where you're interviewing Leah, and she can't stop staring at you

Woso masterlist | Words: 1.1k

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Usually, you felt prepared when interviewing someone. Always doing a bit of research beforehand and going over your notes one last time before they arrive. But today you were more nervous than you had ever been before.

You’ve interviewed plenty of celebrities on your radio show before, but your guest today was the first one you were really nervous about meeting. She was a guest you didn’t have to do a lot of research on, as you were a bigger fan of her than you cared to admit. Leah Williamson was set to show up in the next few minutes. While most people knew her for her football, having captained the Lionesses to victory in the Euros, to you she represented so much more. The way she used her platform for the better, never shying away from harder topics, shedding a light on the more taboo subjects, you admired that part of her.

As you flipped through your notes, in an effort to calm your nerves, a soft knock on your open door startled you. The unexpected sound sent your notes flying through the air. You spun around just in time to see Leah rushing over.

“I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to scare you.” Her voice was soft and apologetic. Leah had gathered most of your papers before you had even had time to react. She handed you the papers with a sheepish smile.

Meanwhile her cousin, Jordan, watched the scene unfold with a knowing grin. She knew Leah well, and could immediately tell that Leah thought you were attractive, and while she didn’t know you, she could tell by the light blushing off your cheeks, that you thought the same about Leah.

“I’m Jordan, by the way.” Jordan cut through the silence that filled the room after the two of you had introduced yourselves to each other. You blinked, realising you had been too lost in the moment to even realise that there was another person in the room. 

You quickly turned to the voice with a warm smile, “Nice to meet you, Jordan. Thank you for joining us today.” Leah smiled gratefully, giving her cousin a nod. “It means a lot to have her with me to talk about the book, so thank you.”

Luckily during the interview your nerves settled a bit. You were totally in your element in your recording studio. Behind the microphone with your headset on, it gave you the comfort you needed to completely forget about anything else besides giving the listeners a good interview.

You started off talking with just Leah, while Jordan sat to the side. Speaking about her recovery from her ACL injury, as well as her comeback, but mostly focussing on the mental health aspect of her recovery. Just like Leah, you used your platform to speak about subjects that weren’t talked about enough, using your platform to show that struggling with your mental health isn’t something you need to hide.

It was wonderful getting to speak with Leah about it, and get to hear her experience on it on a deeper level than she had spoken out about before. Throughout your conversation you and Leah held a lot of eye contact. When you spoke, you made sure to speak around the room, and also make eye contact with Jordan and your staff members. But every time your eyes made their way to Leah, she was still watching you. 

At one point Leah’s gaze on you was so strong that you stumbled a bit over your words. You cursed yourself for letting your feelings get to you while you were live on the radio. Meanwhile Leah was watching with a proud smirk at your stumble, but so lost in the moment that Jordan had to nudge her to answer your question.

Luckily the next part of the interview would be about the book, so Jordan joined in on the conversation. You spoke on how it was to write the book, as well as what it was about, and what they wanted it to say to children. 

You were excited to hear all about it, as your two nieces loved Leah, and you had read the other books in the series plenty of times with them. Getting a little insight into the story that was ahead was definitely going to score you some auntie points.

After wrapping up the interview, your staff members left the room, and Jordan quickly made an excuse as well, leaving the two of you alone. “My nieces are going to be so jealous, they’re big fans of yours.” 

“I was hoping you were a big fan.” Leah said with a challenging, yet playful look in her eyes. Your cheeks flushed and you were at a loss for words. “I’ll tell you what, I will sign a copy for each of your nieces and they can have the books before they’re released.” 

Your eyes widened, “You would do that?” Leah smirked, “Yeah, just on one condition though. You have to admit that you’re a fan.” You chuckled, “Of course, I am a fan. How could I not?” Now it was Leah’s turn to get flustered at your words.

Leah signed two copies, each with a little personalised message for your nieces. “Here, hand me your phone real quick.” You did so without hesitation, and watched as Leah recorded a little video for them as well. 

“Thank you so much, Leah. They are going to be so happy with all of this. My auntie points are going to be through the roof!” Before Leah hands you back your phone, she quickly types her number into your phone. “Well if you want to get more points, text me and I can get you all into a match.”

“Are you sure? That’s so kind.” Leah smiles and nods, “Of course, it means I get to see you again.” Your heart starts beating fast, you weren’t imagining things right? “I- eh thank you.”

Jordan walked back into the room, “Have you asked her out yet? We have to head back.” You both blush at her words. “I eh, I hadn’t gotten that far. But yeah, I would love to see you again. Would you like to go out for lunch some time this week?” 

Your smile grew, “I would love to.” With a racing heart you stood there. “Glad you got there and I didn’t have to do everything for you.” Jordan joked, earning herself a glare from Leah. 

“I have to go, before she embarrasses me more, but text me later to make plans?” You smile at her, “Yeah that sounds good, looking forward to it.” Leah looks back before walking out of the door, “Me too.” 

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[aerynwrites]

Unexpected, But Not Unwelcome

Gale Dekarios x afab!Reader/Tav

A/N: based on this request - god I literally wrote this the second that I got it lol. Gale was the perfect one to write this request for imo and it was such a pleasure!

Word Count: 1.8k

Warnings: pregnant reader, slight angst, pregnancy, fluff.

The longer you’ve lived in Waterdeep the more you start to understand why the balcony outside the study is Gales' chosen spot in his tower. 

You still remember the slight shock you felt when you first arrived to see the space was exactly like the illusion he showed you all those months ago. 

Now it’s also become your place of solace, much to the wizards delight. 

“Views like this are much better enjoyed with company. And I couldn’t wish for a better half to spend it with.” 

The balcony is swathed in deep orange light, the sun slowly creeping towards the horizon, the bottom just barely kissing the edge of sea way out in the distance. Her fading rays dance along the calm bay waters, the only disturbance to its surface being the few ships leaving or entering port. 

‘What do they carry?’ you wonder. 

Fine silks and clothing? Or perhaps rare spices from across the world. It’s a game you find yourself playing more often than not whenever you sit out here. But now…

Now it’s all you can do to try and focus on the ships, your mind constantly flitting back to the news you were given earlier in the day. 

You’d missed your monthly cycle a few weeks back, and while it wasn’t immediately alarming, that along with other symptoms finally made you decided to seek out a healer. 

Gale had told you of his plans to spend the day at Sorcerers Sundries, looking for a specific tome for research he was working on. So, today was the perfect day to slip away unnoticed. You didn’t want to worry your husband unnecessarily, but now you want nothing more than for him to be home, the news eating away at you. 

You’re pregnant. 

It’s honestly nothing you’ve ever truly thought about. Before the tadpoles, you’d been alone, just living day to day in Baldur’s Gate. Then of course the whole tadpole incident happened and then…you met Gale and fell in love and started to build a life with him here, in Waterdeep. 

You’re honestly surprised the topic never came up. But now, with it staring you in the face��a sense of uncertainty settles deep in your belly. 

Tara noticed immediately of course, aware of your unusual quietness as you retreated to the balcony as soon as you got home. You’d found yourself spilling the news to the intelligent cat as soon as she asked, her deep eyes softening ever so slightly as she jumped in your lap and curled up. 

You couldn’t help but sense a wave of excitement coming from her, though. A sense that somewhat calmed you despite the nerves running wild in your mind. 

That was a few hours ago, Tara hasn’t moved from her spot, lounging peacefully as you stroked her fur and watch the ships glide across the water. 

Only the very distant sound of the tower door opening and closing, and Gales faint greeting finally pulls you from your thoughts, that anxiety creeping back in full force as you tense. 

Tara sits up as well, stretching and letting out an enviable yawn. You wish you could be that relaxed. 

“Relax, dear,” Tara says gently, nuzzling your hand before turning to jump from your lap. “I feel you have nothing to be worried about.” 

She turned and pads towards the inside of the tower just as Gale appears in the archway, stopping to offer her a welcoming scratch before she disappears.

He sends you a warm smile as he rights himself, approaching and taking a seat next to you on the padded bench, arm wrapping around your waist instinctively as he presses a kiss to your temple.

“How was your day, my love?” He asks, nose nuzzling your cheek. 

You smile, realizing it doesn’t quite reach your eyes past the anxiety roiling in your chest. “It was good,” you tell him, not completely lying but not offering the full truth either. “How was your adventure to Sorcerer’s Sundries?” 

At the mention of the bookstore Gale’s eyes light up as he tells you about what he found. Slowly, as he talks about the new information he found regarding his research, you both maneuver into a more comfortable position. Gale moves to lay across the length of the padded bench, leaning against the armrest as you settle between his legs, back resting against his chest. 

His arms wrap loosely around your middle, hands resting over your stomach, completely unaware of the life that’s now growing there. 

His words fade into the background as your mind starts to wander again, your hands moving to rest atop his own, your fingers slipping to toy with the simple gold band around his ring finger.

You don’t truly have many worries about the news. You know that Gale will weather anything with you but…you don’t want this to be a storm, or anything negative. What if Gale doesn’t want children? What if he pulls away from you when you tell him the news or is just as scared as you feel?

Soft lips against your neck pull you from your thoughts, familiar fingers slipping between your own to give them a squeeze. 

“I know my research ramblings can at times be boresome. However, you seem to be lost to me more than usual this evening.” His words are gentle with just a touch of amusement as rests his head against yours. “What’s on your mind?”

You don’t respond right away, your nerves at an all time high and making your already tumultuous stomach even more uneasy. You squeeze his hand in yours.

“I went to see a healer today.”

Gale’s arms tighten around you, and you can feel the way he sits up straighter, your words concerning him. 

“A healer? I didn’t even notice - are you sick?” He asks, worry clear in his voice. “I cannot believe I was so preoccupied I failed to take note of-“

You tug on the sleeve of his robes, holding him tighter to you. “I’m not sick. At least not…” You trail off, taking your lip between your teeth.

Gale urges you on with a gentle press of his lips to your shoulder, and that action alone seems to calm the raging sea of anxiety within you. 

“I’m with child, Gale.” 

The silence that follows your revelation feels oppressive. The only sounds meeting your ears being the lapping of waves against the shore and the distant call of gulls in the air. 

Emotion clogs your throat as you clutch his hand. “Please…say something.”

You sit up then, turning to face the man behind you, but before you can fully do so, two strong arms wrap around you and bring you to your feet. Your surroundings turn into a blur around you as Gale spins you through the air, boisterous laughter falling from his lips until he brings you to a stop, capturing you in a breathtaking kiss. 

His lips are warm and his arms secure as he holds you to him, as if afraid this would all fade away if he were to let you go. 

Heat floods your cheeks when he pulls away, elation adorning his features as he looks at you, eyes glowing with an utter joy you’ve never quite seen on him before. He cradles your face in his hands, thumbs brushing softly against your cheeks. 

“I’m going to be a father? We’re going to have a child?” He asks, whispering the words in unbelieving reverence. 

The smile that splits your lips is almost painful, any and all anxiety dissipating from you as you take in his reaction. 

“Yes they…The healer said I would start showing soon, and if we want…Towards the end of the pregnancy they should be able to tell us the gender,” you tell him, hands grasping at the fabric of his robe. 

Gale smiles wider, hands falling down to cradle your stomach and the new life that sits there. 

“It doesn’t matter,” he says gently. “They will be loved either way, and no doubt a powerful wielder of the weave if I have anything to say about it.”

You can’t stop the chuckle that slips past your lips, and the surprising happy tears that fall down your cheeks. Gale notices the streaks immediately, smile faltering ever so slightly as he reaches back up to wipe the tears away.

“Why the tears? This is a joyous occasion, we should be celebrating!” 

You shake your head, reaching up to place your hand atop his own as you turn to press a kiss to his palm. “They aren’t tears of grief…I was worried. Worried about telling you. I didn’t…we’ve never talked about children.”

Your husband smiles gently, eyes reassuring as he leans in to press a kiss to the corner of your lips. “I can admit that this news was unexpected, but it’s…it is not unwelcome,” he tells you, eyes bright once more. “I’ve never given much thought to children because of everything that had consumed my mind in the past and then you appeared in my life and took over the rest of my thoughts,” he laughs. “But this…” He presses his hands to your belly again. “This is more than I could have ever asked for. More than any power I’ve ever dreamed of having. I find myself filled with indescribable joy at the thought of creating a life with you - a family.”

You press your lips to his as soon as the words leave his lips, pulling him impossibly closer until you break away to nuzzle into the space between his head and shoulder, excitement and happiness threatening to burst from your chest. 

“I love you, Gale Dekarios.” You say, smiling as he pulls you tighter against him. “I can’t wait to start a family with you.”

You move to speak, but the presence of a familiar winged feline interrupts you as Tara rushes onto the balcony, wiggling happily. 

“Oh my!” She exclaims, weaving between yours and Gale’s legs before jumping effortlessly up to perch on his shoulder as you both separate. “This is most exciting! Another Dekarios, can you believe it?” She asks, turning to Gale. “Hopefully this one won’t light himself on fire like you did all those years ago.”

You watch in amusement as Gale flushes a light shade of pink, flicking Tara’s ear playfully. “I was just starting to learn to master the weave! And I was eight, you can hardly blame me.”

You chuckle at their antics and reach up to card your hands through his hair at the nape of his neck, drawing his attention back to you.

“Well, they will have the best teacher. There’s no telling what they will accomplish with you as their guide.”

Gale smiles, leaning down to kiss you one last time before embracing you once more. 

“We’ll guide them together.”

You hum in agreement, basking in the golden rays of the setting sun, the snapping of sails echoing across the water as you whisper against his skin. 

“Together.”

Tags:

@dark-and-kawaii

[saintzweig]

nsfw patrick zweig x camgirl!reader

–based on this blurb PART TWO HERE

– wrote this with 5 hours of sleep, not proofread because i'm lazy so i apologize in advance for the mistakes or if its shitty :3 wasn't actually going to write this but i couldn't stop thinking about it sooo

it was 3pm on a thursday, you were sat in your history class bored out of your mind. it was your last class of the week and it had only half an hour left but with the way your professor was droning on and on about god knows what, you couldn't wait to get out of here fast enough. 

you had a live scheduled in two hours, as well. you needed enough time to rest and freshen up before you turn your camera on. you did live cams anonymously on some sketchy website just to get by, a cam girl if you will. you grew up in a strict religious household so you've never thought you'd end up doing this but desperate times call for desperate measures, it was an easy way out of your financial problems. plus, if you were careful enough no one would have to find out. its not like you were going to do this forever, only until you graduate and find a job with a decent pay. by then, your account will be deleted and forgotten about, as if it never existed in the first place. 

your mindless scribbling was interrupted when your professor called your name. "l/n, zweig"

your head snapped up to the front and then to patrick zweig who sat two rows infront of you. 

"your presentation will be a week from now, your topic will be on the reconstruction. i expect you'll do a thorough research." 

you quickly wrote down the details as your professor dismissed the class, students rushing to get out of the room while you stayed behind to gather your things. before you knew it, patrick stood infront of you. his backpack slinging over one shoulder and his hands in his pockets. 

you didn't know patrick zweig, you knew of him. a great, cocky tennis player who was supposed to go pro after juniors but his friends, art and tashi, convinced him to accept his standford offer. so he'll have something to fall back on if things don't go to plan. 

you've heard people talk about him, how he's reckless in his plays yet he keeps winning. how he doesn't do anything in class yet he keeps passing. you had to stop yourself from sighing in front of him, is he going to make you do everything? 

"y/n, right?" you've never heard him talk before, atleast not anywhere near you so you were surprised that his voice sounded ... attractive. you took this time to actually look at him, he wore a plain white shirt and denim jeans, which isn't much but he made it look so good. his face was slightly scruffy, his nose statuesque and his pink lips was pulled into a slight smirk. you had no idea why his appearance made your heart beat faster than normal. 

the two of you discussed when to meet, deciding to do the work in your dorm every other day during his free time. so now, on friday evening, you were sat on your desk working on the outline for your project as you wait for him to arrive. 

not long after, there was a knock on your door and patrick entered in his tennis attire, carrying his equipment. "a single room?" he asked with his eyebrow raised, taking in the sight of your room. the white walls adorned with tapestry and posters, your bed covered in a pink bedding and your desk was cluttered with your study materials. 

"i got lucky" you sat on your chair as he settled on your bed, laying on his back in exhaustion. there was something familiar about your room, he just couldn't put his finger on it. has he been here before? did the two of you hook up and he had just forgotten about it? or maybe it's because most dorms look the same, it's probably just similar to tashi's. he put the thought on the back of his mind as you started to discuss your project with him. 

it went surprisingly well the first day, although patrick was stubborn, he knew he couldn't just skip on this project because he'll end up having to do it alone so he decided doing it with you now was the better option. the next day, he got too comfortable that he's so easily distracted. you started bribing him with his own pack of cigarettes, taking it from his hands and putting it under your thigh as the two of you sat across from each other on your bed. 

it was a little difficult to work with him, considering he's not so good at studying but it was fun, you had fun with him. he made jokes that you tried to keep a straight face on but end up laughing so hard your cheeks were starting to hurt. he keeps trying to flirt with you too, which just ends up with you scowling at him and slapping his arm. 

and as soon as he left, you turned your camera on and positioned yourself on your bed. normally, you would only strip and massage your body, never going as far as playing with yourself in front of your viewers. but this time, you couldn't stop thinking about patrick. how big his hands were compared to you, you imagined it wrapped around your wrist, or holding your waist, or choking you. the thought making you squeeze your thighs together. you made soft noises as your massaged your breasts, imagining what it would feel like to feel his hands cupping you. you felt yourself get wet as you pressed your fingers against the fabric of your panties.

tonight's live felt a bit more sensual, it was almost difficult to stop yourself from getting carried away but you needed to be careful. so after an hour, you turned the camera off and placed your laptop under your bed. as soon as you lay back, your hand found its way inside your white, lacy panties. you shiver as the pad of your pointer finger brushed against your sensitive clit, feeling the slick against your skin as your press against your cunt. 

you spent the next hour touching yourself to the thought of patrick using your body, feeling his lips against your skin, lapping up the juices leaking out of you. the sounds you were making were too pornographic that you had to place your hand over your mouth. your fingers covered in your juices as you desperately fucked yourself. it felt like a pretty sight to see that you almost regretted turning your camera off. 

you wanted someone to see you, you wanted him to see what he was doing to you. 

the next time he came over, he had just come straight from tennis practice. his skin was slightly moist with sweat and he wore shorts that rode up his legs when he sat on your bed. you couldn't focus on anything but his thighs. 

“you feeling alright? you're looking kinda red, zoning out too” you blushed, feeling like he just caught you red handed. 

you nod, “yeah, it's just a little hot” 

he smirked, telling you to take your shirt off if it's that hot, he wouldn't mind it at all. you rolled your eyes at his suggestion, turning your attention back to your laptop. you were tempted to do it, it took you everything in your body not to. even with your choice of work, you still had a little bit of self respect and discipline left. 

that night, you ended up touching yourself on camera for the first time. making yourself cum infront of your viewers while they had no idea you were thinking of patrick, again. having your lips on his skin, straddling his lap and feeling his bulge press against your clothed cunt, his hands on your breasts as you bounce on his cock. you made the highest amount of money you've ever made since you've started. but you made sure to tell them it was a one time thing. 

the next evening, was the day before your presentation. patrick was on his way over so the two of you can practice and prepare yourself for tomorrow. 

you bumped into him on your way to the communal bathroom, telling him to go right ahead. 

patrick entered your room, dropping his equipment by the door as usual. instead of laying in your bed like he always does, he sat on your chair. leaning back with his arms crossed as he observed the trinkets on your desk and the photos pinned on the corkboard. 

a few minutes later, you walked in and sat on your bed, facing him. he turned around in your chair to ask you something about the photos but the sight of you on your bed left him dumbfounded. the realization of why your room looks familiar finally came to him, the only reason it took him so long was because the only way he's ever seen it was through the camera, facing the exact direction he's looking at right now. 

you were the anonymous cam girl he had been jerking off to after your sessions, you were the girl he had just sent a hundred dollars to the night before. 

[fixfoxnox]

I Know You Didn't Take Requests But Just Curiosity... What Would Happen If Makarov Was Obsessed With A Nervous Russian Woman?

Kissing you (with your permission) for asking about Makarov I've been wanting to write with him so much since the newest trailer dropped AHHHH also I'm gonna take this as an x reader Makarov headcanon request if thats alright

Makarov Obsessed with Nervous Russian Fem! Reader

Warnings: Dub-con, loosely implied non-con, kidnapping, stalking, obsession, knife kink and blood kink, jealousy, murder

Makarov and reader meet before his time as an ultranationalist, when he's still at least a little good.

He's Spetsnaz and you're just a secretary trying to stay under the radar and make a living for yourself. Being around hungry men, men constantly away from their respective families or partners, never quite allows you to settle into peace.

You're one of the only women working on the base, and the men laugh when you jump at their sudden arrivals or hands on your shoulder. You don't find it funny, but they assure you that you have no reason to be nervous. You don't believe them, you're nervous all the time in a place like that.

There's one man who doesn't laugh at you. He's a captain and any time he makes you jump, he apologizes. He's kind and charming and, honestly, the only man on base you're able to find any sort of comfort in.

Makarov isn't sure what it is that starts his obsession with you. Perhaps its the amusement he feels when you stutter over yourself as you speak. Maybe its just that he enjoys having someone kind around. Maybe he just latched on to someone and you happened to be the unlucky victim.

Either way, it didn't matter. After a week of knowing you, Makarov is enamored. He's interested.

When Makarov is interested it means research. Research means watching you even when you think you're alone. Sneaking into your home or desk and snooping to understand more about you. He watches and learns all of your little quirks, everything that makes you tick. And Makarov is good at his job, so it's not surprising that you never realize.

Then the papers are sent. Makarov is discharged and the rumor floating around base is that it was an order by the UN after his cruel and inhumane treatment during war.

You don't believe its true, you don't believe Makarov is capable. Still, you're only a woman on a base surrounded by men, you can't voice your thoughts to anyone.

To you, Makarov dissapears. In reality, he's still around.

He joins the ultranationalists and stops trying to hide who he really is. With them, he's appreciated. His bloodlust is praised. He thrives under the guiding hand of Imran Zhakaev.

As he thrives, he doesn't forget you. He watches from the shadows, keeping tabs on your every move as he works himself up the totem pole of Ultranationalists. He keeps you as close as he can without you ever knowing.

And, in the shadows, he pushes and prods reader exactly how he wants her. He keeps men away from you, many of them never showing for plans you made. He encourages activities and learning about certain topics with hidden items for you to find.

And, when Makarov is made Zhakaev's second (only behind his son) and given more control and power, he takes no time in claiming his obsession.

He wouldn't be gentle about it. You'd been out of his grasp for far too long and now he had you here? Well the idea of bruises or bleeding skin only lit him up with excitement.

Now he isn't violent when he kidnaps you. Only disciplinary, as he says. You struggle and he corrects that action. And, as he settles you in to the base he's been staying at, you understand this is your new future.

Makarov is obsessed with you, he wants to own you, he wants every piece of you to be his. And that desire involves you giving yourself to him, giving in to his own wicked desires and playing along.

Maybe you resist at first, but at the end of the day you're a nervous person and you can do nothing but cower behind him. You're in deep, a madman is obsessed with you, and you're trapped behind enemy lines. What choice do you have but to give in and become Makarov's play thing.

Now, once you do give in, Makarov treats you like a queen. You are his after all, and what belongs to him gets taken care of.

I think Makarov is the type to shower his partner in gifts. Jewelry and silk. Anything that he would be able to physically see on his partner like a mark of his ownership over them.

He's an overprotective and jealous man. God help any ultranationalist who tries to flirt with you or insult you. After Makarov is done dealing with them in the only way he knows how, his ire often falls to you.

He takes his anger out in the bedroom in those moments. Making you beg and declare his ownership over you repeatedly.

Now, this doesn't define your more intimate moments with him. As much as Makarov loves having control, he's more than willing to let you take over and do what you will to him until he orders you to stop. He likes to let his inhibitions go under your touch.

Makarov likes to play domesticity. He likes it when you make him breakfast and see him off for the day with a kiss to his lips. He likes to have you waiting in the room for him, ready to cater to his needs. He likes playing house, pretending to be the perfect husband of a normal family.

He doesn't succeed most of the time. Meetings upon meetings often bleed into the sanctuary he wants with you and, more often then not, you find Makarov entering the room speaking in a quiet and clipped voice with other men, future plans for the Ultranationalists being discussed between them.

And finally, I think Makarov enjoys showing you off, to an extent. He's obsessed with you and he has you, of course he wants everyone to know it. Of course he wants to show you off.

But, at the same time, Makarov hates the ideas of others looking at you, of anyone else even possibly thinking that they could hold you and have you like he did

This often results in meetings or casual sit downs where you're pulled onto his lap or tucked against his side. You keep your eyes down and Makarov watches like a shark, ready to attack anyone who would so much as look at you.

Also knives in the bedroom and you should probably get used to blood, because you'll be helping clean it off of him most days, whether that's running him a bath and scrubbing it from his skin, or joining him in a shower for a much more intimate approach to ridding him of the blood.

[scramblescrew]

Hey can I request uh....ancients with a y/n who finally gives up but ends up depressed? Like they usually lay there and do nothing and be basically a sad doll that needs lots of comfort?

((Sure thing, Anon! Here ya go! Sorry it took me so long! Writer’s block has been killing me

(TRIGGER WARNING FOR THEMES OF DEPRESSIVE TOPICS! IF IT IS TOO MUCH FOR YOU, PLEASE MOVE ON PAST)

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Dark Cacao Cookie would start having a bit of an easier time realizing what you’re feeling. He had felt the same depressed, empty feeling when his son, Dark Choco Cookie, forced his hand and he was cast out of the kingdom.

But when he found out you were just laying in bed, usually motionless, he was concerned. He understood that you weren’t in an ideal mental state but you still needed to care for yourself.

Instead of having one of the citadel staff bringing you your rations, Dark Cacao did instead. When he unlocked the door to your chambers and entered. His heart ached even more watching you lay motionless on your bed, your chest slowly rising and falling with each breath.

“Y/N…”

DCC walked over with the food, set it down on the bedside table and sat down on the edge of the bed.

“Please understand why I had to keep you here in the citadel…the world outside of these walls would corrupt you…take what it would from you then leave you for dead. I couldn’t have that for you…I can’t lose you…!”

After a few minutes of silence, DCC sighed and laid down beside you, pulling you in close, and wrapped his arms around Y/N.

“Please know that I love you…even if in your eyes it doesn’t seem so…”

—————————————————————————

Scared. Pure Vanilla Cookie is scared when he finds to mindlessly and silently pacing the grounds of his kingdom for who knows how many hours and even more fearful when he catches up to you and you stare blankly and wordlessly at him.

His heart breaks at this as he pulls you close and hugs you.

“Let’s get you back to bed, you must be exhausted…wondering for so long isn’t good for you…”

PV helped you to your shared bedroom and let you have privacy to get changed into more comfortable clothing before helping you into bed and healing any injuries you may have gotten from your wonder.

After everything was settled down and you were physically well again, PV got into bed with you, pull you close, and started kissing your forehead and gently rubbing your back as you lay there.

“Please don’t scare me like that…I never want to see you hurt…”

_____________________________________

Hollyberry was excited when you had taken your stay in her castle, your new home, better than she had anticipated, you occupied her to events without complaint (maybe a bit of reluctance and though not very much), you started to give her small bits of affection like holding her hand and reciprocating her hugs even if you were still very reserved, but somethings were still worrying…

What she worried about was went you started having sudden outbursts of rage and berating her for getting to close. It was like flipping a switch in your brain at random and it was…SCARING your captor.

After leaving you be for a while and do research on what she could do to help you and came up with a solution.

That night she sat you down and gently hugged you, explaining that she understands that you’re going through a rough time and that she wanted to help you. She was going to set up meetings with a therapist and will let you roam the kingdom with less strict supervision. All she wanted was you to get better and to love her.

“All I want in return is your love…please give me your love, my dear…”

—————————————————————————————————————

White Lily Cookie understood… being forced to stay in a barely familiar place with someone who claims to be your lover but is actually your captor can take a toll on a cookie. So it was understandable that you would fall into a depression. One where you couldn’t sleep(understandable as White Lily Cookie made you sleep in the same bed as her), you refused food or drink much to her worry, and your memory was getting worse by the day due to the aforementioned symptoms and more.

It all came to a head one day when you…just stopped moving at all, you didn’t get outta bed, you stopped what little resistance you gave to White Lily Cookie’s attempts to give you affection. You accepted all the hugs, kisses and the cheek and forehead, accepted her cuddling you at night, everything. You just stopped responding.

After a thorough examination from a doctor that was called in (No, Pure Vanilla Cookie was not asked for help. He had his own darling to deal with), it was found out that your depression had gotten worse, to the point of you had fallen into a Catatonic state.

After this revelation, White Lily would try every day to get you to get up or even just open your eyes and look at her. But White Lily soon conceded and focused on being there for you, gently holding you close and letting you be her sad little doll…

“My sweetest doll…it’ll all be ok. Please just open your eyes..for me..?”

—————————————————————————————————————

Golden Cheese Cookie held you in her arms with her wings wrapped around your body. With what has happened to her in the past, Golden Cheese Cookie understands what it’s like to feel so empty and hopeless.

But you staying in your bed all day….something in her….BEGS…for you to get up again…

The next thing you know, you are subjected to bi-daily tests and a sarcophagus is built to hold you and keep you inside of it. It was built so only Golden Cheese Cookie could get you out if she ever wanted to.

And that was the hardest part, the easiest part was locking you inside. You didn’t really fight back like you used to, like you did when she first brought you to her kingdom. But that just meant you would be hers sooner…

Once you were in GCC’s digital kingdom, you felt the urge to get up, to walk around, to be free, much to Golden Cheese cookie’s satisfaction and joy. She once again hugged and held you close with her wings wrapped around you.

“It’ll be ok now…I’ve got you…and you’ll never want for anything, my gem…”

————————————————————————————————————

Im here this is here, it’s raw, it took forever- I need a nap (I pulled an all nighter for this request so I could get it out for you all😊) *Dies*

[ripleylove]

SFW alphabet ; Rhea Ripley.

pairing: Rhea Ripley x fem reader.

genre: fluff <3

A/N: I miss Rhea. These are my thoughts.

⋆ ˚｡⋆𔓘⭒๋࣭

A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)

Rhea is for sure clingy. Like, she'd be always close to you, holding your hand or wrapping her strong arms around your waist,and she always wants to feel your touch.

I think she loves to show affection through kisses and,more precisely,with sleepy cuddles. Her arm draped over your body carelessly,while her left arm is under your head,serving as a pillow (best pillow ever besides her chest).

B = Best friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?)

She would be those kind of friends that are a "ride or die": you and her would do the most stupid and insane things together,all while enjoying each other's company. Also, she'd be your safe place to run to at hard times,her always listening and always giving you advices would always make you feel better and,most importantly,special.

C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)

Cuddles with her are MAGNIFICENT!!!! Like,of course she cuddles (and loves to be cuddled) and of course she'd be like a mama bear,cause her strong arms and her big figure would wrap you up like a burrito so perfectly, that you would never want to go out of her arms. Also,she loves to just spend days in bed with you,under the covers,in which the only thing that will be done,is giving and receiving cuddles.

D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)

For sure,Rhea would be the most excited about settling down with you and starting a family: she only wanted you as her girlfriend, wife,and mother of her children. When she would see you playing with little girls and boys,she'd always have major baby fever,with one of her biggest smiles on her face.

To her,cooking and cleaning doesn't feel like any chore at all,if she gets to do it with you. For example, she would be eager to do the dishes with you after lunch or dinner,you would be washing and cleaning and she would be drying and placing the dishes in their respective places.

E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

If she wanted to break up with you,of course she would talk to you about it. For any reason,for example the distance while going on the road or any lack of communication, she'd always respect the way you think and you would do the same for her.

F = Fiance(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)

Rhea,being head over heels for you,would be the most loyal person you've ever met. If someone tries to flirt with her,she'd always shoo them away,because no one could ever get her like you do. If,for example, you would get jealous of her TV relationship with Dominik,she'd do anything it takes to show you that it's all fake and that you're the only one ruling her heart.

She would like to get married 2 or 3 years in the relationship, because she doesn't want to rush things,but if the love you felt for each other was too strong,she'd propose as soon as possible.

G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

She'd be so so so patient it would make you want to cry. If you struggle with past traumas or anxiety, in the first months of this relationship she would do late night researches on the topic while you were sleeping,reading any tips about panic attacks etc.,so she could help you without feeling helpless.

Physically, she's also very gentle and sweet. After you'd come home late at night,very exhausted, she would remove your jacket and your shoes, before wrapping you in her embrace. I also think she's the type to lay you on the bed, and to massage your sore shoulders,slowly lulling you to sleep.

H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)

Oh,as said before,she's THE hugger. Almost a professional hugger,I must say. Head on your shoulders,arms wrapped around your waist,and you caressing her back: that's how she likes it. If she could, she would be attached to you 24/7,because your arms are so warm and so lovely and the list could go on!! Hugging her would feel like heaven, literally. Especially if she'd start to tickle you,that would be literal paradise,but anything she does is heavenly (duh).

I = I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?)

Oh,I think she'd say it in like 2 or 3 weeks. I SAID WHAT I SAID!!!! Because,c'mon,it isn't impossible to fall in love with you and your personality. The way you'd always blush around her,or how you'd always share your food with her,or even the way you'd shily slide you soft hand in hers. She would be head over heels for you,like,I'm not even joking. Also she'd be saying that she loves you every single minute. Over text,with calls, while colliding her lips with yours etc.

J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?)

Rhea doesn't get jealous easily,because she knows she's yours and you're hers. But,sometimes,you don't even realise that someone is actually talking to you to get you in bed,and often you just mistake that intent for a simple and unhurtful small talk. And this thing happened many times in many places,for example in a a bar. Rhea,ever so caring and attentive,would notice that,and she would come over to you (and the person you're talking with) and put her arm around your waist. "So,baby,where do you wanna go now?"

K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

The feeling of her kisses would be like feathers,her plump and soft lips lovingly meeting yours in a passionate and sweet kiss. While kissing,she would hold your cheeks with her rough hands,and you would caress her long hair,sliding your fingers through her black strands. Her favourite places to get kisses are: lips (obviously), neck,hands and head. (although, sometimes you would kiss the tip of her nose,and she would act like she hates it,but she actually loves it).

L = Little ones (How are they around children?)

Around children,at first she might be anxious, but when you'd help her to hold little babies or when you would join a toddler that was playing with barbies,she would start to warm up to the children. She'd have the preference to newborns and little babies,because she dies from their cuteness,but she also loves toddlers! This whole babies thing started when your bestfriend Mina asked you to babysit her children while she worked,and Rhea joined too. (Now she got a little attached to the babies,but this is a secret).

M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)

To be honest,mornings with Rhea are different based on her and your mood. If you both are tired,you would stay in bed until afternoon while either sleeping or cuddling while watching any TV series; If you both want to try cooking breakfast, you would try cooking pancakes (which often would come out either burned or raw) or,if you both feel motivated enough,you would even go to the gym with her.

N = Night (How are nights spent with them?)

Obviously, she's a night owl. She goes to sleep at least at 2 or 3 AM on a daily basis,and,as much as you try to keep up with her sleeping schedule,you just fall asleep as soon as possible. But,when you would manage to stay awake with her,you would be doing the most random things: playing uno,watching south park together,doing each other's make up... in the end,nights with Rhea are never boring.

O = Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)

Rhea would talk about herself and her past only later in her relationship. During your first date,she would talk about her passions,her likings and her disliking, but she wouldn't go past that. Only when she started fully trusting you,she would talk about her experiences, and about the sad and happy things that happened to her. And you would do the same thing for her,of course.

P = Patience (How easily angered are they?)

As I already said before,she is the most patient person ever. She understands your struggles,and doesn't shame you,instead,she helps you to overcome them. She hardly gets mad at you,but when she does,she doesn't shout or raise her hands,she just closes herself in your shared room to cool off. And,obviously, everything goes back to normal after a good talk <3.

Q = Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?)

She would be the human version of a memories box: she would remember any little detail of yours,your favourite color,what you like to do and even your habits. Everytime you tell her something about you,it's like a little drawer in the back of her mind opens,and in there gets stuffed the new information.

She would buy you a purse you told her you've always liked,and you would be surprised. "You remembered?" You would ask,and she would answer: "Obviously! It's the australian memory!"

R = Remember (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?)

Rhea's favourite memory could be when you went to the beach together. You played in the water and even had a swimming competition (that she let you win). Also,you tanned,and while doing this,Rhea had her hand over your waist,and the print of her hand was very noticeable. She had to take a picture,that she even posted on her Instagram stories,and she laughed her ass off for almost 30 minutes,while you were sat here pouting.

S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?)

Saying that Rhea is overprotective is and understatement: when you go out,she always holds your hand and always protects you from paparazzi,to keep you safe from any uncomfortable situations.

When you protect her though, she feels butterflies making their way in her stomach. For example, if a nosy fan would bother Rhea with uncomfortable questions,you would immediately jump in the situation and protect you girlfriend without hesitation (she thought about it for weeks).

T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

Even though she's often on the road,she always finds time and effort for dates during special occasions (or even to pamper you). Taking you to fancy restaurants, going on a walk together, taking you on the beach or even going to get nails together were things you would do on a weekly basis,since Rhea always likes to spoil you.

U = Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?)

One of her bad habits is that she always cracks her knuckles, and you always scold her,and during your scolding she looks like a lost puppy (but she never listens and you keep on scolding her). "Rhea stop doing that!" You'd shout,and she would raise her hands in surrender. "Okay,Okay,damn!"

V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?

She doesn't care that much about her looks,because she knows she's beautiful, and you even tell her everyday that she doesn't need makeup because hers it's a natural beauty; but she likes to take care of herself: doing her hair,her skincare,and choosing carefully her outfits. (she might get ready just to hear you compliment her,but nobody knows).

W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)

Oh,without you,she would feel like every piece of her puzzle was missing,and she would make sure you know that. When she's on the road for RAW,you'd get a "i miss u :(" text at least every hour,and when she'd get to her hotel,she would immediately videocall you to stay up Kate while she watched you sleep <3

X = Xtra (A random headcanon for them.)

She would totally have a photo album in her gallery which contained 1000+ pics of you in any context: sleeping with drool coming out of your mouth,eating burnt pancakes,getting your make up done,and her favourite one is the one she took with her professional camera on your first date,that she still has in the back of her phone,in her cover.

Y = Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?)

I think Rhea would hate people who ghost others. This might be,as she thinks,one of the worst trait a person could have. Also she hates people who don't help people in need for their own dignity and image. These are the biggest red flags a person could have!!

Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habits of theirs?)

She just has to be next to you,or else she won't even close her eyes. Your heat and your natural smell lull her to sleep,and,without having you sleeping next to her,it would be impossible for Rhea to feel comfortable in a cold and lonely hotel room. That's why,like I have said before,she needs to facetime you,because even seeing you sleep,makes her feel better. <3

taglist: @stellakiddsblog @bibibi-tchx @p-mp @teenagedramaqueenlisa @thegalacticnacho091 @judgementdaysunshine

[livesworthlivingau]

Lives Worth Living Chapter 0

CW: Hospice Care/Deathbed

(It's been years since you were all last together. The days of you traveling together had long passed, and now your lives had all settled into their own places. You and Isa were now married and had moved in together in Jouvente, where you often helped Isa at his wonderful little Tailor shop. Mirabelle had moved to Bambouche with Bonnie and Nille to open her own House of Change and spread the gift of her belief with all those who would like to accept it, and finally Odile... a world renowned professor on the theory of craft and its various applications... and one we would soon lose as she laid on her deathbed.)

(It's nice to see everyone again after so long, though the circumstances in which you find yourselves does make it a bit awkward. You all sit silently in the somewhat familiar living room of the famed researcher, who was spending her last days at home in hospice care, other than Bonnie and Nille, the former of which frantically working in the kitchen as the latter supervised. Bonnie never broke the habit of trying to solve everything with snack time, though to their credit it did work a good portion of the time.)

(After what feels like an eternity of waiting, no one even knowing where to begin with what to say, just waiting on the doctor to give the go ahead, they finally exit her room and approach our gathered little family.)

"She's ready to see you all now." (They say, with a trained, soft tone, the voice of someone who cares but sees this far too often to let themselves care too much... as if acting in a play, you think to yourself almost nostalgically...)

(As the other two are collected and you all crowd into the room, stifled sobs and gasps fill the air, seeing the once so well kept and excellently postured researcher of your group, reduced to such a fragile state.)

"Gems alive, you all need to work on your poker faces." (She rasps out in her weakened state in a light hearted manner, still proving to be the most mentally hearty, even in the face of this.)

"Sorry M'dame Odile, it's just hard to see you without a ruler in your hand, shouting at kids to get off your lawn." (Isa chimes in through his uneasy voice, trying not to choke up as he speaks. Despite being such a big loveable oaf, he was always the softest out of all of us.)

"And you, our own little head housemaiden, I know that look, and don't even try it... there's nothing to heal, nothing to fix... it's simply my time." (Odile said, shocking Mirabelle out of her thought spiral. Even in her final moments she was still better at reading us all than ourselves, and just as blunt in spite of that.)

"I-I made your favorite, Dile." (Bonnie stammers out, fighting back a wave of tears as they hold up a plate of Onigiri filled with pickled plums, as fresh as can be. We all know she won't be able to have any, but the gesture alone was enough to bring a bright, genuine smile to Odile's face.)

"Oh Boniface... come here dear." (Bonnie almost moved faster than could be seen to the naked eye, burying their face into Odile's body as they gripped her in such a careful but loving hug, unable to stop from sobbing now while their grandmother figure just rests her pruned and shaking hands on their back.)

"Well... you must be simply dying to chime in with some horrid pun by now." (You find your eyes locked with hers suddenly as her words rolled out towards you, almost feeling like a deer in headlights since you always did prefer the background after all.)

(You must have something for this, you can't miss your moment in such a grim time.)

          "I'm too lost in regret for never figuring out your top secret research topic."

          > "Simply dying huh?"

          "Just desperately trying to figure out how to start looping again."

"Oh dear, it seems your incessant word play has rubbed off on me, the horror." (She teased in her familiar dry way, though it's still a nice moment as you both share a half smile, leaving the rest unspoken, as there was no need to say it aloud, you both already knew all there was to say.)

(You find yourself tuning out for most of the rest of this, after all, you had your moment already, and it was all the both of you needed, everyone else could have theirs now.)

(You don't know how much time has passed, but a harsh cough suddenly snaps you out of it. Odile rasps sharply for as much air as her failing lungs could manage, sighing it back out as she takes a moment to collect herself.) 

"... It's time... No looping our way out of this one, huh Siffrin?" (She tries to smile, but she was too weak to hold it for long. You return one in kind as you feel a tear start to pour down your cheek, almost wishing you could still at this point. You simply walk beside her and take her hand, Bonnie and Mirabelle having taken the other already and gripping it as firm as can be without causing her pain, Isabeau soon joining and taking both your and her hand in his own massive one.) 

(Time slows, each second getting longer than the last, Odile's eyelids getting heavier and lower, it only takes a few moment, but we were all there, holding on tight, lost in an endless, painful moment, a sharp pain through your heart as you lose one of your closest family members... when you start to feel a... tug... on your... sto-)

"FRIIIIIN! FRIIIIN WAKE UP! WE DID IT! IT'S TOMORROW! NO MORE KING! NO MORE LOOPS! WE CAN GO GET MY SISTER NOW!!"

[momojedi]

— LOSS topic. hunter x gn! jedi! reader

**

type. one shot note. this is just a small drabble while i finish all the other requests i've gotten! yes, another tlou reference. my fist hunter fanfic and obviously its angst, ugh. this is set a while after omega's abduction. tech is alive. reader met the remaining batch while they were out scavenging for any intel on omega's location - they don't know about who they're looking for specifically, not her importance. warnings. angst, argument, hurt/no comfort, kidnapping word count. 1,135

star wars masterlist || pinned post

10%

I feel the familiar knot of anger boil in the pits of my stomach. It's been a little over a month since I decided to fall in with the three mercenaries that had happened to go after the same bounty as me. It was only when we had settled on splitting the credits that my blood had run cold the second their helmets were off. It had taken Hunter a lot of patience and persuasion to finally get me to lower my lightsaber.

Hunter and I had quickly clicked from then on. But as time passed, I noticed more and more how protective he became of me, giving me little room to breathe and jumping in to defend me despite knowing I could handle myself. When Tech told me about Omega, the girl they'd ben so invested in finding, my heart broke for him. A father figure and his daughter separated by a gruesome Empire? I quickly took pity on him, tried to accommodate his behaviour but when he'd taken a blaster shot for me during a difficult mission, I cracked. I'd screamed at him, scolded him for putting himself in danger for me before storming off, the desperation in his eyes burning itself into my mind.

I've been hiding in the Marauder ever since, trying my best to avoid Hunter in the guise of assisting Tech and Echo in their research while listening to Wrecker's quiet chewing as he devours ration bar after ration bark, much to his brothers' annoyance. But of course, he won't let that slide.

"[Name]?" I bite my tongue when I hear the creaking of the metal steps under his weight as he steps into the shuttle. I'm not sure I can stand looking at his hurt expression, nor the dent in his armour where the shot had hit. So, I sigh.

"I know about Omega, Hunter."

Hunter freezes when her name falls from my lips and suddenly the air grows tense. "What?" His voice is shaking, as if it were still trying to grasp a sense of understanding on what I just said. I sigh, setting down the datapad as the download I was previously supervising proceeds.

20%

"Tech," I explain, rising from my seat and motioning toward said man who curiously enough started burying his face in his own datapad, "he told me about her and━" "[Name]." I stop dead in my tracks. Never has my name been spat harsher than it now. Hunter's eyes are shut, brows furrowed as he speaks with a precision that makes the hair on the back of my neck stand up. His tone is dangerous, almost threatening when he finally opens his eyes again, the usual warmth in his gaze gone.

"You are treading on some mighty thin ice there."

I bite my inner cheek, letting out a deep sigh before crossing my arms over my chest. "I'm sorry about her, Hunter, I really am," I hesitate for a second before meeting his eyes again, "But I have lost people, too."

30%

Hunter stares, a cold and piercing glare that I hardly withstand. He's seething, fists clenched at his side. Then, he opens his mouth and my heart stops━

"You have no idea what loss is."

My mouth goes dry. Echo takes in a sharp breath. Tech awkwardly clears his throat. The loud clang of Gonky landing on the ground makes it clear even Wrecker is taken back.

"What?" It's more of a heartbroken grasp for reality than a question but I speak it anyways. Hunter remains quiet. "Hunter, I... Are you serious?"

40%

I didn't break away from society, didn't remain on the run, didn't lay low for months to be met with this. I know Hunter's words are lead by pure despair and fury toward the Empire, yet they still affected me. And so they did, badly. Echo set his healthy hand on the sergeant's shoulder. "Hunter, I think that's enough━"

"No," I bark, dashing forward and driving an accusatory finger into Hunter's chest plate, "No, you listen here and you listen good. Everyone I have ever cared for, my master, my troops, my friends - all of them have either died being slaughtered by the Empire, or left me." A familiar wetness forms in the corner of my eyes as I blink back the tears. "All except for you!"

50%

I swallow the lump in my throat as my voice breaks into a sob. "So don't act like you can't be taken away from me, too, because truth is, it just hurts me more."

Silence fills the Marauder once more. I can practically feel the tension radiating off Hunter as he watches me. Finally, he moves, but his action brings more harm than good. He turns away from me. Before disappearing into the cockpit though, he halts and faces the side to look at me over his shoulder.

"You're right. I don't have to protect you. You're not our family, after all," he stops, letting the words sink in. Then, he shoots his final bullet, sure to leave a deep scar, "We're dropping you off on Koboh. From here on out, we'll be going our separate ways."

Download cancelled!

Then, the door slides shut behind him. I remain frozen on the spot, the stares of the other batch members fading into the background along with the datapad subtle beeping as the download stops. Echo is the first to move. "I'll go talk to him." When he too disappears into the cockpit, Wrecker is the second to find his voice. "It'll be fine," he tries to reassure me, laying a comforting hand on my back, "it's a hard topic for him, just ... give him some time."

The air around me suddenly feels stuffy, rendering it hard to breathe. I barely excuse myself and leave behind a confused Wrecker and a perplexed Tech as I rush outside. I don't hold back, stumbling through the woods, away from the shuttle, from the Batch, from Hunter. Away from everything.

It's only after nearing a cliff at the edge of the forest that I stop, catching my breath and falling to my knees. My stomach churns as I feel my world fall apart. The last time I've felt like that, I watched my fellow Jedi be slaughtered by their own men. I bury my face in my hands, salty tears clinging to my palms.

As my surroundings are darkened, I barely detect the imperial shuttle closing in on me from above. Only when the lamps power on, throwing a blinding light on me, I look up before swiftly being caught off-guard as the electrified net lands on me, partially knocking me out. Steps. A shadow looms over me, modulated voice barely drowned out by the shuttle's noise.

"Sir, we found the Jedi."

[strawberrygummiess]

forwards, beckon rebound

leona kingscholar x gender neutral! reader 2.1k words cross posted on ao3

As a college student, you always wished you could return to high school.

You’d go back in time with all the wisdom you could possibly have in your early twenties and do it all differently. Try a little harder, be a little wittier, and be a little nicer to your parents… if you could, you would make every right decision. If you laid a solid foundation, maybe you’d be employed with a real job, in a nice apartment. Maybe your post-grad life wouldn’t look so bleak.

And yet, now that you’re presented with the opportunity, this hypothetical has never felt so incredibly stupid.

Since you were transported to Twisted Wonderland, you’ve floated through limbo. Too old to relate to the students you hung around, too young to understand your professors. Not only were you aged out of your peers, but you had no grasp on how this world worked. Everything was foreign, and no one cared to help you. Even your college-grade research skills did nothing to help you understand the rules of this world. It was an isolating experience that no one could have ever foreseen in their stupid “if you could go back to high school with all the knowledge you have now” hypothetical.

Maybe that was why you were glued to Leona as much as he would let you be.

Since helping him through his overblot (in what world would your college experience help you with that scenario?) you couldn’t help but latch on to him. It’s not that you enjoyed the danger of near death, it was that you could finally speak to someone relatively your age. The long conversations you had in the infirmary and in the darkness of his room were quiet and familiar. It felt like you were back in your dorm room, recapping your day to your roommates in hushed whispers. It was a little thing, but it grounded you down more than you cared to admit. And when your life had turned into reliving the worst parts of high school, fighting poverty, and just trying to survive potentially deadly magical scenarios, you could live with the little things. And you didn’t really care if Leona wanted you there or not.

“Back again? Is there no one else for you to bother?”

Leona’s grumble shook you from your thoughts. It was a routine at this point. Once again, you stood over him in the gardens, silently asking for permission to sit next to him while you skipped your potions class (because you just didn’t have it in you to do high school over again, really). He would pretend to be annoyed, tease you for your lack of friends, and settle into a comfortable silence while you sat with him. Sometimes you would attempt a conversation, but most of the time you just sat quietly until the class period ended. Today would be the same as it always was; you, gaining a bit of sanity back before rejoining the freshmen in their classes and feeling lost all over again.

“You already know the answer,” you reply, sitting in the grass next to him. “Besides, I can’t stand potions. Or Grim. Not today.” You lie back in the grass and sigh as the tension in your back dissipates and wait out how today’s hour will go.

Leona hums in response and closes his eyes again. You expect this to be the end of your conversation and get ready to zone out for an hour before he continues.

“Can you stand it any day?”

It’s vague. Purposefully so. Leona tests you. Your intelligence, your boundaries, your limits. In this moment he could be referring to anything. Your class, Grim, your peers, your new life- you could choose to answer to any of these topics, and he would respond accordingly. He was quicker than you, smarter than you could’ve ever hoped to be, all naturally. If you were still in school, you’d be jealous of this kind of wit. Now, you’re just happy to be challenged. Except now, of course, when you didn’t know how to answer his question.

Truthfully, the conversations you had with Leona were rare. You could count them on one hand. Asking for too much will scare him out of talking. You’ve learned the hard way what makes Leona shut down. And usually, it’s you digging too deep too fast. You know gradually chipping away at his shell is the only way to make him vulnerable, but you can’t help but be impatient, and greedy. You want more than he’s willing to give because you’re desperate for something to latch on to. So, of course, when you’re finally presented with the opportunity to learn more, you’re floundering.

“No, not really.”

You match his ambiguity. Admittedly, you can’t decide what deserves a rant from you first. The ridiculous expectations that Crowley has imposed on you, the exhaustion that comes from dealing with Grim, the frustration with your lack of funds (that admittedly, you’re used to after only landing a retail position post-graduation).

“I’m just tired of being older than everyone else.”

It comes out before you realize it. You and Leona are around the same age. You can only imagine the agony of being an adult student around the rest of Night Raven College. To the rest of the students, being a few years their senior feels like nothing. To you, it feels like you’ve stepped out of a nursing home. You’ve never asked Leona his feelings about it. You just hoped it was an unspoken understanding that you two needed each other, if just for this. You knew you needed him, at least.

“Yeah? Join the club.”

He answers, before opening his eyes and looking at you. His face was relaxed but his gaze was focused and sharp. He was the hunter, and you were the prey. He was studying you, preparing for your next step. It was frustrating just how easily he read you. It was like he already knew everything you felt. And yet, you knew nothing about him. Nothing important, anyway. He always knew how to avoid your pressing. Every step forward came at the cost of three steps back. You weren’t privy to much of anything, just bits and pieces of surface-level information that never helped you understand him. That’s how he wanted it. But you couldn’t stand it anymore.

“How do you live like this? This… limbo? I feel like I’m not in my body.” You decided to test the waters. Push him a little further. Beg for more information. Desperately trying to get inside. You sit up and try to gather your thoughts and strategize, but you keep talking before your brain can catch up.

“Everything is monotonous, and yet not at the same time… and I feel like I can’t keep up with anything! Socially, and academically, I’ve never felt so out of place… I feel so old and young in all the wrong ways. And I get this is what your twenties feel like. It’s just never felt so obvious before.”

“Hmm… speak for yourself. I’ve never felt so in with the times” Leona jokes, before sitting up alongside you. Giddiness fills you before you can stop it. Engaging him in a conversation is so rare, you love it when you get it right. You love feeling a bit of normalcy.

“C’mon, you know that’s not what I meant. It’s developmentally y’know? Because… I’ve already been to high school- sorry, college, - graduated, went to university, and then graduated from that too! And now I’m back? It feels weird… I feel weird.”

You wait for him to respond after your outburst, but he doesn’t say anything. In the back of your head, you remind yourself that he doesn’t know your plight. Leona hasn’t graduated from Night Raven yet. This is his first time through high school. And he has the bonus of being from this world. You’re in a unique situation that no one else could ever possibly relate to. But his silence makes you feel uneasy. You feel the need to keep explaining, to word vomit your feelings out until they go away. You hope that eventually, all the circles you’re going in will lead you in a different direction. Or at least lead to Leona saying he understands you. Maybe by the end of it, you can even understand yourself.

“People from my world always ask, ‘What would you do if you could go back to high school with the knowledge you have now?’ and I always had a solid plan. I’d be a better student and a better person, and I wouldn’t work in a grocery store by the end of it. But no one ever thinks about how weird it is to have an adult brain stuck in a system designed for kids. No one talks about how that messes up your plans before they even start.”

Leona huffs again.

“You were after me. You’re the one who had to realize it.”

It was true. You were the traditional, model student. You did everything you were supposed to, on schedule, with perfect timing. Yet you couldn’t help the frustration rise within you. That wasn’t what you meant. He knew that. He was too smart not to know what you meant.

“I never said you didn’t understand. I just want to know how you handle it. It’s eating me alive. I don’t know if I can handle high schoolers anymore.”

You let out a strained chuckle. You hope he won’t notice your annoyance at his flippancy. You needed to remain calm. Otherwise, he’d pull away and you’d have to navigate your feelings alone again.

“I handle it like this, Herbivore. Take it or leave it.”

He moves to lie down again, and you can’t help the desperation that seeps through you. You move to grab his shoulder, to steady him before he’s unavailable again. He looks at you, intrigued by spontaneity, but says nothing else. The ball is in your court. And yet, you can’t find the words to continue.

This is how he handles it. He sleeps away his problems and runs from them until it culminates into a fury of anger that pushes people away. No one knows Leona Kingscholar, they only know the twenty-year-old junior who hides his intelligence in his dreams. You can't help but tighten your grip on his shoulder. You hope if you hold him there, he won’t hide from you.

“Does it help to have someone else?”

You ask sheepishly. You think you know the answer. He doesn’t say anything. His ears twitch as he stares at you, waiting for you to continue. You were hoping for him to say something else, but he waited.

“It helps me at least. Even if you don’t talk much. It’s nice to float through limbo with someone else if we can’t help each other.”

You settle on boosting his ego. Telling him you need him. You’re sure he knows this already. You seek him out every day. Even if he won’t tell you, he needs you too. He would’ve already pushed you away if he didn’t. At least, that’s what you tell yourself.

Leona, horrifically, says nothing. He just stares at you with his piercing gaze, filling you with unease. He always knows how to make you regret digging too deep. Unfortunately, he doesn’t know how to get you to stay away permanently. Maybe his silent stare will finally scare you away. Maybe, silence was the only appropriate way to respond to your outburst. You decide you sounded crazy, and you overstepped. You open your mouth to do some semblance of damage control before he beats you to it.

“Of course, you need me, who doesn’t?”

He breaks out into a comfortable smirk. His arrogance usually annoyed you, but this time, you were relieved. You haven’t messed up yet. You didn’t move forward, but you were okay with staying where you were if it meant he’d keep you around. He gently removed your hand from his shoulder and began to lean back. You knew your hour was up. You had to find Grim and join the freshmen for their next class. Leona had to sleep his emotions away.

As you left the gardens, you felt yourself entering autopilot. Your brain was away from your body as you joined Ace, Deuce, and Grim. They chattered about their last class, excitedly discussing their plans with one another while you thought about your routine. You will be in the gardens tomorrow, avoiding your classes, and desperately trying to befriend someone who can understand you but doesn’t want to. At least for one hour, you would be grounded again.

[skylarsblue]

✦Slashers With An ADHD S/O✦

This could also be taken as slashers with a s/o that has unmedicated ADHD, it's essentially just them responding to your info dumping or random-ass questions. This is definitely not me just wanting to project random facts onto people-

✧GN!Reader, mention of skinwalkers(in case you're worried bout the energy that might bring), brief mention of cannibalism✧ ✧Bo; He/Him, Vincent; He/They, Lester; He/Him, Thomas; He/Him, Bubba; He/She/They, Stu; He/Him, Billy Lo; He/Him, Brahms; He/Him✧

❀Bo Sinclair❀

He's gonna act so sick of it but he often gets wrapped up in what you're doing. I've always been on the fence if he's neurotypical, or if he has unmedicated ADHD.

If you ask a random ass question that he can't immediately answer, he'll try to brush you off, but then he'll get too curious. Leading to hours of you two coming up with theories or researching some obscure topic. Sometimes it leads to debates that might get heated, but they never turn into actual fights.

Although sometimes he's too tired to deal with your random shit. Like, if you two are in bed, and you roll over with a super obscure topic? He'll give you some tired grunts as responses, but eventually, he'll cover your mouth and tuck you under his chin. "Doll, I'ma need you to shut ya mouth." He loves you but he needs his beauty sleep.

You were washing dishes as Bo sat in the living room, sipping a beer and losing his focus on a TV show. Things were quiet and peaceful. He'd been a bit on edge today, but that was chalked up to his lingering headache. Aside from that? Nothing was wrong, and it allowed everyone in Ambrose to relax...assuming they weren't encased in wax. But your brain was not relaxed. Not with the question that had been bouncing around all day. Finally, it was too much to bare on your own, so after drying your hands you poked your head around the door frame to the kitchen. Staring at Bo on the couch. He sensed it, setting his beer on his knee as he looked over, expecting your words.

"Bo, how come you never see an ad for microwaves?"

His brow furrowed before his eyes rolled. "Really? Darlin' what kind of stupid ass question is th-..." He trailed off as he properly processed the question. You blinked, staring, waiting as you watched it settle over him. The same confusion. He shook his head. "Prolly 'cause everyone knows ya need one." He said, trying to brush it off, but that answer was not satisfying. "But then why are there ads for other appliances? Or toilet paper? Everyone knows you need that stuff." You replied. Bo bit his lower lip as he looked up, thinking again. "...well shit, I don't fuckin' know." He admitted. You jumped in the air and made dramatic hand motions. "SEE?! Right?! It's been bothering me all day!!" You exclaimed. Bo rubbed his forehead as he tried to come up with an answer, or perhaps bring forth the memory of a microwave commercial.

You hopped over the back of the couch and settled next to him. "Bo, it's been eating away at me. I can't come up with anything." You whispered. "I can't either...shit! Why is that a thing?!" Bo demanded, you laughed and put your face in your hands. "Nah nah, we're gonna think of something. This shit's gonna eat at me." He said, setting his beer on the coffee table. He was in too deep now. There was no escaping without an answer.

❀Vincent Sinclair❀

Vincent can't really respond to your random questions or factoids, his vocal cords are damaged and he only speaks when necessary. However, he'll listen! Most of the time anyway. Occasionally, they'll be too focused to hear what you're saying, but they'll pause and sign for you to repeat your last sentence. He wants to indulge you.

You'll remind him of Lester when they were all younger. For this reason, they won't get annoyed. They're a seasoned veteran of the random ramblings of an individual with ADHD. That, and it makes him feel at peace hearing you in the background of whatever he's doing. Reminds him of a more peaceful time.

Vincent's an insomniac. He can stay awake to hear your latest info dump, but, if he's exhausted enough? He's gonna pass out. It doesn't matter how loud you're ranting either. He finds your voice soothing and it's hard to stay awake when they're so tired, and you feel so safe. But don't worry, if you want, they'll ask you to start talking about the topic again in the morning. After their coffee, of course.

There was a quiet scraping sound mingling with the bubbling of wax in a large vat in the basement. Vincent's hands worked diligently as he formed the shape of a man's arm, carefully sculpting the subtle curve of a bicep. They were in their zone, completely focused. Taking even, deep breaths as they went to grab a more precise tool.

"VINCENT!"

And the silence was shattered, making the man fumble with the tool, doing a short juggling act until he caught it. He looked over at you bouncing into his workspace, grinning. "Oh! Sorry, did I mess you up?" You asked as you noticed he was working. Vincent let out a sigh and shook their head, allowing you to relax, energy coming back full force. He set his tool down and signed to you. "What's wrong?" He asked, making you shake your head. "Oh nothing, but I just learned something super cool!" You walked closer and pulled up a chair, setting yourself on top of it.

"Do you anything about Egyptian mythology?" You asked with an excited grin. Vincent paused and tapped his fingers a few times on his leg before shaking his head. "Great! Okay, so there's this god, Anubis, also called Anpu or Inpu. He's a deity relating to death and the passing of the people of Egypt. He's got a jackal head most of the time, which is basically a canine. One of the things he's known for is this ceremony where he weighs a heart against a feather to see if it's pure, and if the heart is heavier than the feather, it's impure. So! He'll feed it to this other deity named Ammit. Which would basically mean your soul can't move on to the underworld." You paused to take a deep breath. Vincent had settled in his own seat at this point, listening intently. He'd never been much for mythology aside from his Greek phase in high school. But you were so passionate and admittedly? The factoids were interesting.

They'd gladly listen for hours on end, it made you so happy, how could he not indulge?

❀Lester Sinclair❀

This man is the king of random factoids, are you kidding me? Do you think he wouldn't be as passionate about your random topics? Fool that you are! He has just as many! It's definitely a bonding thing for the two of you.

The things he brings up most are bug & plant related, but he loves learning from you. He's got several learning disabilities so learning from a book is a bit difficult. This is partially why he loves learning from you. Be careful to have your facts straight though.

You could wake him up at two am and get him enraptured in a conversation with ease. He won't be mad, just a bit groggy at first. He utterly adores the fact you're so willing to share the things you're passionate about, no matter how random they are. And Lester is elated that you return the favor.

Wood shavings fell to the ground as Lester whistled a tune, carving a new knife handle out of some old cherry oak he'd found. He'd hoped to give this one to Bo, in order to replace the switchblade the man had that was starting to give up on him. It was peaceful on his cabin porch. Birds chirping, bugs buzzing, trees only swaying in a slight breeze. He stopped his whistling tune when he heard the screen door creak open and saw you walk out. He smiled as you sat beside him. "Afternoon' sugar." He greeted.

"Lester, I need you to confirm something for me." You said with an intense look. The man rose an eyebrow and looked you over. "Alright...what is it?" He asked. He watched you inhale deeply and finally open your mouth with the question. "Is it true that there are creatures in the ocean that look like tiny bunnies but they're slugs?" Lester blinked before he laughed a bit, a grin stretching across his face. "Yeah, there are! They're called sea bunnies! They're real small critters, buncha slugs in the ocean look real cool. There's one that looks like 's made of leaves too. It eats like a plant too! That photosin-photo, whatever's called." He mumbled. You gasped loudly.

"There are sea slugs that can photosynthesize?! Oh my god!" You cheered. Lester snickered and nodded vigorously. "Baby, I thought they were fake! They're so small and cute, I just wanna squish'em." You explained, making a little squishing motion with your hand. Lester hummed in agreement. "There's this other one. Looks like a dragon, but ya can't pick'em up 'cause they're real poisonous." He said, feeling his heart swell as you let out a sad whine. "All the cool things are poisonous." You complained. You looked back at him with adoration and a smile made from sunshine. "Can you tell me more about random animal stuff?" Lester couldn't have been happier to hear you ask. "Well, don't mind if I do." He adjusted himself in his seat, feeling joy rush through his brain as he started his factoid rant.

❀Thomas Hewitt❀

Alright, he's neurodivergent, but he's never been the type to info dump or even deeply explore his interests. Mostly because he's never had the time or ability. However, seeing how deep you get into your stuff will probably inspire him to indulge himself more.

He doesn't know what a hyperfixation is but he'll relate if you tell him about it. Thomas' tend to be things like sewing and, fittingly enough, mechanics of things like chainsaws. He used to be into old cars when he was younger but Luda Mae would often tell him not to poke around, for fear he'd get hurt by something.

Thomas finds your ease around him cathartic. Sometimes, when you're rambling, he won't be fully listening. Not because he doesn't care but because he's too focused on the fact you're with him. Even when he's at his most exhausted, he'll always find time and energy to watch you be passionate. To share those things with him? It feels unreal sometimes.

Thomas huffed as he tossed a small bale of hale towards a pile in the back of the dilapidated barn. Sweat rolled down his skin, which he wiped with the fabric of his shirt. He tilted his neck and only slightly winced when it cracked loudly. "Tommy!" And there it went again, feeling his heart melt and his stress fade away. Usually when his name was called it meant someone needed something, that he was about to be insulted, that he was doing something wrong. But not with you. No, you always said his name in the sweetest tone. He turned to face you, watching you run up to the barn with a smile. You remembered to step over the board at the entrance since it had unhidden nails.

"Tommy! Okay, baby, I know you're working but can I tell you about something really cool?" He exhaled and his gaze softened. With a deep grunt and a nod, he moved a hay bale off to the side and motioned to it. You cooed and walked up, sitting down on the bale with a grin. "You're a sweetheart." You praised, making him blush. "Okay, so, you know how Native Americans have super rich history? And like, they even have things akin to cryptids and they have their own folklore?" Thomas nodded as he went back to work, showing he was still listening.

"Alright, well, don't take my word for everything here because I may be wrong on some of it. But! There are these things called skinwalkers, in English anyway. They're a thing most notably spoken about from Indigenous tribes around the southwest, like here and Oklahoma and stuff. Typically they're described as shapeshifting beings with deformed, almost, humanoid bodies. The origins kind of vary based on where you get it from, but some traditions say that they used to be powerful medicine men who succumbed to evil. Some other origins think that they're people who committed a deep sin." Your hands moved with your words and you occasionally paused as to not stutter over the words. Though it was a taboo topic to speak about and not something Thomas would've ever sought out, he listened. Pausing his work to stare at you lovingly as you rambled about a creature that was probably pretty nightmare-inducing. He couldn't bring himself to be disturbed. Only succumb to the adoration in his chest.

❀Bubba Sawyer❀

Bubba's neurodivergent as well, they have their hyperfixations, but sadly can't share them much. One, because her family often expressed annoyance so she's no longer willing to show them. Two, she can't really talk. He's only able to babble things that sometimes sound kind of like words.

But oh, oh he ADORES when you share your interests or ask him weird questions. It brings him so much joy. And they feel so seen when you acknowledge they want to share something with you as well. You become Bubba's hyperfixation safe space and he returns the effort tenfold. (Her fixations are jewelry & fashion magazines)

She'll never not listen to you. Of course, if he's working, he'll need to be focused on that. But you're more than welcome to sit nearby and keep talking. They take note of everything you say, and if it's something he can find and give to you? They'll search for something you'll like so hard every chance they get.

Bubba patted his hands on his lap as you sewed a hole in his apron. Though Bubba knew how to sew, and enjoyed it, sometimes their big hands made it difficult. That and their random muscle spasms. But, you were always willing to help, something that made his love for you triple almost every day. You smiled as she leaned in to watch you work more closely. "You know, Bubs. Maybe I should make you a dress. I have a few designs I think you'd look great in." You said. Bubba's brown eyes widened and she squealed, watching you finish the stitch, placing the needle down. As soon as he was sure you wouldn't get pricked, he squeezed you in his arms, making you laugh.

You set his apron in his lap and stood up, grabbing a busted-up sketchbook that they'd grabbed off a meal once. You sat back beside her and flipped open to a page. Bubba flapped her hands excitedly as she caught sight of a chubby figure in the concept of a flowy dress. "See, I tried to consider what would be best with your work. I figured sleeves would get in the way so I kept them either short or just as straps, adjustable of course." You explained as you pointed to the sketches. "I mostly took inspiration from those magazines you have. Most of those dresses have shirt tops and blouson cuts, but I couldn't help myself by when I imagined you in a sundress." Your smile grew wider as Bubba wiggled in place, letting out happy squeals and excited squeaks.

You began to ramble about different waist cuts and fabric patterns, colors that you felt would compliment Bubba's skin tone. Eventually ending up in his lap as he squeezed you, rocking back and forth. Feeling adored and cared for. No one else had ever put in this effort to indulge her and she felt ready to cry from joy. You hummed and turned a page. "You know, I think a babydoll cut nightgown would also be real cute on you.~" You purred, going to slowly turn the page again. Bubba caught sight of a slightly revealing babydoll cut "nightgown", with detailed lace, clearly meant to be a bit see-through. They squeaked and covered their face. You laughed fondly and reached to place kisses on the backs of their knuckles.

❀Stu Macher❀

Again, you think this dude doesn't have ADHD? There ain't no way in hell. This man is a poster child for unmedicated ADHD if I've ever seen one. His hyperfixations being horror movies and true crime, clearly. He loves to have someone to rant about these things with, but a lot of people aren't down with it. Imagine his joy when he found out you were. And even more so when you do the same back.

He's a bit hard to get into things that don't already interest him. But, he does his best to listen anyway, since you do that with him. However, if you have a similar interest to him? Stu is all over that shit. He finds you so sexy when you rant about the cinematography of your favorite movie or the psyche of a fictional killer.

If you know you have ADHD and tell him, you might actually be able to convince him to get tested. It won't change anything, but Stu being on meds would probably help him out in school...or it would just help him be more down to earth. That's wishful thinking though.

"Babe! Baby, babe babe babebabebabe!" Your voice cut over the movie Stu was watching, making him pause it. The image of Jason standing in a doorway to a cabin fizzled and glitched on the old TV. He laughed when you dove over the back of the couch, setting down the snacks and drinks you brought, quickly turning to face him. "I have theories and I need to spill them before I forget about them." You said. Stu grabbed a soda and cracked it open. "Well spill then baby! I'm all ears!" He grinned, taking a large gulp of Dr.Pepper. You got yourself comfortable and cleared your throat, starting off with a deep breath. "It's about the Ghostface killings recently." Now that caught his attention. "Yeah? What'cha got, babe?" Twisted excitement formed in his chest as he awaited your words.

"I don't think there's one killer, I think there's two." His brain sparked up and his heartbeat arose, leaning his arm on the back of the couch as he listened. "See cause, when Casey was in her house, she was called on the phone and the killer talked to her right? They probably were giving her things to make her think she could survive, if it were me I'd choose...like, a trivia thing. Get the answers right, ya live. But of course she didn't They killed her boyfriend on the porch while she was still on the phone, but then evidence showed someone was in the house to hunt her down. That doesn't make sense! There would be no feasible way only one person could utterly tear Steve's organs out and then get into the house without her noticing. She probably had both doors locked anyway! But, if someone else was already inside while a second killer Jack-The-Ripper-style killed Steve, it would make so much more sense!"

Stu ran his tongue along his lower lip, watching you get more animated and invested into your theory. Despite talking about a recent murder of peers, the terrifying concept that there were two people out there ready to commit horrific acts, you were smiling. Buzzing off excitement while talking about a murder. "And! The amount of strength and time it would've taken to tie her and pull her over a tree branch, not being seen? One person doing that is hard to believe, but two people? That's a piece of cake!" You declared, only to be cut off by a passionate kiss to the mouth. It silenced you for a moment, but it didn't do anything to your stuttering heartbeat. Stu pulled back with a smug grin. "You're so sexy when you dissect murder plans." He said. You snorted and let out a loud laugh. "I'm a fuckin' freak, huh?" Stu laughed. "And I love it, baby!"

❀Billy Loomis❀

He deals with Stu every day, he's used to it. Billy's not one who infodumps or hyperfixates, but he's not incredibly annoyed by it. Most of the time anyway.

If you catch him in a bad mood, he might ask you to be quiet, but it's not personal. It's not that he doesn't care or anything, he's just not in the mood for a lot of information being said to him at a fast rate. Most of the time though, he'll be perfectly fine with it.

He won't really get into it with you, but he'll support your interests and occasionally entertain your weird questions. Billy's particularly happy if your hyperfixation benefits him, however. Like with Stu, true crime & horror movies are things he's always willing to hear about.

Billy paused the movie and looked over. "You've been chewing on your lip this entire time, just spit it out." He said bluntly, though he had a calm smile on his face. Both of you were sat in your bedroom on your bed, watching a copy of Halloween H20 that you'd rented. Billy didn't really like movie talkers so you'd tried your best to hold it all in until the end, even if you had a million things to say. But he knew better and he was in a good mood. As long as you weren't talking over the movie, he wouldn't have a problem. He bit back an amused snicker as you let out a relieved breath and got ready to rant.

"I was just thinking if there was maybe a reason Michael can survive so much. Cause like, he is human. He needs to eat, we hear him breathe, even if he doesn't die he does get wounded by people attacking him. So it's not that he's a demon, even if Loomis calls him pure evil, so maybe there's a medical reason he can withstand all that!" You began. Billy set the remote down and pulled himself up to sit against the headboard, crossing his arms and nodding, urging you to continue. "Okay, so, hear me out. What if he just has a surplus of stem cells? Like, they're out of control." You said, starting to talk with your hands. "Stem cells? Remind me what those are again."

You huffed and muttered something fondly about how he failed biology. He snorted at the comment. "Stem cells come from your bone marrow and they're what helps you heal from stuff. Like, if a section of your liver is removed? Stem cells will make the organ grow back to the perfect size for your body. When we get older, they tend to slow down, which is why it takes longer to heal from stuff. But theoretically, if Michael just has a fuck ton, he could come back from almost anything. As long as he has bone marrow, he'd keep producing stem cells, and he'd keep healing. At that rate, even old age couldn't kill him. Old age doesn't kill you, it's just your body's functions shutting down because of old dying cells." Billy hummed and rose his eyebrows, considering your theory for a moment. He then nodded with a smile. "That would actually make a lot of sense. A lot better than the cult idea." You beamed. "Thank you! Also yeah, that movie was fuckin' awful." He laughed and opened his arm, allowing you to lay against him. "You gonna let it play now?" He asked, to which you nodded. He patted your arm and grabbed the remote, allowing the movie to play again.

❀Brahms Heelshire❀

Aight, he's autistic, he doesn't have ADHD. He needs strict structure, he has no idea how you just wing everything. You're all over the place! It's frustrating! ...sometimes, other times it's fun to watch and listen to you. Brahms hasn't ever really had friends, not ones that seem so excited to talk to him anyway. It's a nice change, actually.

He'll start to be more comfortable with sharing his own thoughts on things he's really into. Brahms has never been able to speak for an hour on a chapter in a book before, and he feels really at ease when you listen to him. He's a bit hypocritical and occasionally tunes you out when you're ranting, but he'll usually try to listen.

Brahms is amazed at how many topics you can seemingly flow into, even when starting on something completely unrelated. He's endlessly entertained by you, so much so, that it'll occasionally make up for you accidentally letting time get away from you and going off schedule. Occasionally.

Brahms cleaned his brush as you spoke, running it over a napkin to dry it off and ensure it wasn't holding any more of the green paint. You'd been rambling for an hour now, more so to yourself than to him. The noise was a nice change from the deafening silence that he'd been used too in the walls. Brahms lifted his mask slightly to take a bit of the sandwich you'd made him, allowing himself to tune back into your rant. "Actually, some people have said that there's a stage of decomposition where the stench is almost sickeningly sweet. I've never smelt it like that though, the stench of death is pretty recognizable as not sweet." Brahms stopped mid-chew and stared at you. Where in the hell had you gotten this from? He could've sworn you started on food first.

"I wonder if cannibals found that smell appealing, actually. Maybe they considered it the "still safe to eat" time for when a body is already dead. I imagine they'd want it fresh though." You muttered whilst putting away a glass. "Actually! Interesting fact, some cannibals have described human meat as being akin to pork, just with a strong & bitter aftertaste. And the more muscular someone is, the chewier they are. Also I think I read once that tattoo ink has a terrible taste, which would make sense I suppose. In history, human was sometimes described as long pig or hairless goat!" Brahms cleared his throat and snapped you out of your train of thought. You made eye contact with him through his porcelain mask, seeing his look of confusion and slight concern. You chuckled bashfully, rubbing the back of your neck. "I don't know why I know these things, but I promise it's not from personal experience." You reassured.

Brahms sighed and shook his head. You untensed a bit when he let out a little chuckle, one that was deep and genuine, not covered by his "child" voice. "You have got to be the most interesting nanny I've ever had." He said, accent thick as he spoke. Your face heated up and you let out a soft laugh, nodding. "Probably the most out there for sure. I'll take that as a compliment and uh, stop talking about cannibalism now." Brahms nodded and took another bite of his sandwich, pushing the chair out next to him with his leg. You took it with a smile. "How about you talk instead, hm?" You offered. Brahms cleared his throat again and nodded, he had plenty of things to discuss. Perhaps the eras of painting styles would be a good choice.

(bet you thought the cannibalism was gonna be in Thomas or Bubba's huh? YOU THOUGHT WRONG)

[totallyjustabunchofhocuspocus]

Fic: One Foot Out the Door (Won't You Come Back Inside?) 1/2

Eh, I got a little stalled on Come Away, O Human Child and felt like writing some different flavored angst :) (Happy Ending guaranteed though!) Besides, all the cheating 'fics in the Buck/Tommy tag on AO3 made me sad this week (no hate, I just don't like infidelity stories) so I thought I'd give Tommy some angst that didn't involve him getting cheated on.

Pairing: Buck/Tommy (mentioned Buddie, but it's one-sided in this)

Being perfectly honest, Tommy had always kind of known that Eddie might eventually come between him and Evan.

The concept hadn't even really bothered him at first. Kissing Evan had been an impulse decision…he was unfairly hot and kind of adorable when he was flustered, and he said he wanted Tommy's attention. What was he supposed to do? Not take the opportunity to see if any of the (admittedly, kind of mixed) signals the kid had been throwing off would lead anywhere?

Even after their (disastrous) first date, and the (awkward) encounters at Howie and Evan's sister's wedding, he really and truly hadn't thought things with him would go anywhere serious. He liked Evan, sure. He walked that line between pretty boy and muscle man that got Tommy's motor running, they had great conversations, and (and Tommy knew this was selfish, but he'd never claimed to be completely altruistic) being with Evan brought him plenty of chances to reconnect with the 118 in ways that his text-every-once-in-while friendship with Hen and Howie just hadn't provided. Sue him—he liked Harbor just fine, but that was a job not a family and he was kind of bummed that the 118 had only become what it was now after he left.

He'd honestly thought his relationship with Evan was just going to be a fling. He'd have a nice time with a gorgeous man and maybe get the chance to resolidify his ties to the 118, and in exchange he'd give Evan the kind, gentle introduction to life as a queer man that Tommy had never really gotten. They'd have a good time for a few weeks or months and then probably part ways…hopefully amicably so Tommy could keep his friendship with Eddie and his place with the 118. In the best case scenario, he and Evan could still be friends too.

That had been the plan. That had been the logical conclusion just based on his observations of Evan and his own experience and relationships. He saw where this was going, and he was okay with that. Really, he was. Tommy had learned a long time ago that Happily Ever After was only easy to find in the movies, and even when it did show up in the real world, it wasn't people like Tommy that found it. Didn't even have anything to do with being gay. Life had taught Tommy Kinard to temper his expectations long before he'd ever realized that part of himself. So. He'd scouted the terrain, decided it was worth his time, and settled in for the perfectly predictable ride.

And then Evan had fucked it all up by making it completely, utterly impossible not to fall completely, utterly in love with him.

Evan…Evan was fucking sunshine.

Tommy had known he enjoyed talking to him…he'd been unprepared for how much he'd come to love the way Evan's brain worked. The random facts and research binges, the constant shifts in focus. Evan was so curious about anything and everything, and Tommy had grown used to the cadence of his boyfriend's voice washing over him like the waves of the ocean whenever they were together, the way Evan filled the silence of his house whenever he was there, but always let Tommy talk too, always listening attentively and engaging, even in topics that didn't really interest him.

He'd expected Evan to be a good lay. He just had that vibe about him and…look, people gossip okay? Evan's…exploits right after he joined the 118 weren't exactly discreet. He had not been expecting to discover a lover. Evan was generous in bed, adventurous and creative in ways that left Tommy a little breathless. He'd expected to have to take the lead, but apart from some understandable hesitance at the start, Evan had never been shy about…well, anything they did. He could be coy and sweet, happy to be manhandled and bossed around, to look up at Tommy through his lashes and call him Daddy in a voice that went straight to Tommy's core. But he was equally thrilled to turn the tables, be loud and demanding, pin Tommy down to the nearest surface and go to town…whatever suited their mood. God, Tommy had never had someone match him like this. Never had someone who felt like they were made to be in his arms. Never found someone who could slot so seamlessly into his life.

They had their hiccups, of course. They were both stubborn men who weren’t always great at communication. They had to learn each other's tells and signals. Evan got into his head about things, could be clingy and needful in ways that were a little foreign to Tommy at first. Tommy tended to bottle things up until they festered, could become snappish and aloof in ways that had clashed badly with Evan's abandonment issues a few times. They worked through it, though. They learned together, improved together. Tommy didn't think he was exaggerating when he said this was the healthiest relationship he'd ever had. He couldn't help the warm glow of pride the day Hen had confided in him that she thought it was Evan's healthiest relationship as well.

He loved Evan. He hadn't expected to, but looking at where they were now, it seemed inevitable.

But. He had always kind of expected Eddie to eventually come between them.

Tommy wasn't an idiot. He wasn't unobservant. It took him approximately zero point five seconds past meeting them to clock the weirdly intense energy between Evan and Eddie. Tommy was no stranger to the kind of bonds their line of work tended to inspire. He was ex-military and a first responder…he knew you didn't rush into life-threatening situations with someone and have a normal friendship with them. Whatever was between Evan and Eddie wasn't that.

They were entrenched in each other's lives. Damn near inseparable. Tommy had seen plenty of guys become unofficial family, plenty of guys who stepped in as uncles and godfathers for their squadmates’ kids. But Evan was effectively Eddie's co-parent. Christopher's other father. Eddie clearly relied on Evan for emotional needs that a partner (a life partner, not just a work partner) should fulfill, and Evan did the same.

He'd be lying if he said it wasn't a little off-putting for someone who wanted to date one of them. But he liked Eddie a lot, and Evan was so damn gorgeous…and he really wasn't expecting it to get serious. Their connection read to him as intimate, but not sexual–even if he privately thought that was mostly because Evan could be charmingly oblivious and Eddie was deep in the kind of denial that only intense therapy and self-reflection could break through–and so he decided to risk it.

In a way, he thought that he had it easier as Evan's partner than anyone who tried to date Eddie would ever have it. He understood Eddie and Christopher’s place in Evan's life, cared about them both, and was perfectly content being a “trusted adult” rather than any kind of parental figure in Christopher's life. And it wasn't like Evan was Chris's primary parent. Evan just had more room for a partner in his life and his heart than Eddie did.

To be completely fair to Evan, Tommy didn't think he was a replacement or a substitution. He knew Evan loved him. Just…he had never been able to shake the feeling that he wouldn't have been his boyfriend's first choice. And if Eddie ever figured himself out, ever got to a place where he was comfortable offering Evan a choice, Evan would take it.

It wasn't something he dwelled on. Not something he spent all his time waiting for. But it hovered on the peripheral of his growing feelings for Evan, snuck in haunt him at odd times, a darkness that never overshadowed their love, but never dissipated either. He thought he had it handled. He really did.

*

“So,” Karen drawled, flopping down in the lounge chair beside him with a glass of wine and a slice of the (very excellent) cherry pie Buck had made for the gathering. Tommy was considering going to get another slice himself…he loved Evan's dedication to his fitness routines, certainly had no complaints about the results, but he did enjoy it when his boyfriend took breaks from his more restrictive nutrition regimes.

“So?” he repeated with a raised eyebrow, well used to the roadmap Mrs. Wilson (both of them) tended to follow with serious conversations. And judging by the tilt of Karen's mouth, this was going to be a serious conversation.

“How are things? Haven't seen you in a while,” Karen replied, taking a sip of her wine.

It was true. Tommy hadn't been able to attend the last few get-togethers at Bobby and Athena's new place for work-related reasons (wildfire season was the worst no matter how you sliced it, but it was especially shitty for air support), and his and Evan's schedules had been lining up infrequently enough the last few weeks that when they did have time off together, they mostly spent it in bed rather than socializing.

“Going great,” he said, settling more comfortably in his chair to watch Evan swing Jee-Yun up onto his shoulders and start galloping around the yard while she shrieked in delight. He didn't even try to hide the dopey smile he knew was spreading across his face. It wasn't like their friends weren't aware of how smitten he was with his boyfriend.

“Did you and Buck have a good time up in San Diego? I had to work late the night Buck came over for dinner. Missed the pictures.”

The smile widened, a warm flush flooding his chest at the thought of the trip he and Evan had taken just last month. An anniversary trip. Their one year anniversary (okay, more like fifteen month, because wrangling PTO from two separate stations was a bitch), a milestone Tommy had only made it to a handful of times, and never since coming out. It wasn't anything extravagant or fancy. They hadn't even flown, preferring to drive up the coast and stay for the weekend in a charming bed and breakfast Evan had found online. They'd gone sightseeing, eaten entirely too much “viral” food Evan found on TikTok (a surprising amount of which had actually been worth the hype), and filled their nights with the kind of unhurried, earth-shatteringly intimate lovemaking Tommy thought existed only in romance novels.

“We had an amazing time,” he gushed. As if drawn by a magnet, his eyes found Evan again, watching his boyfriend fondly as he tossed his niece in the air a few times before spinning her around and dramatically pretending to ‘drop’ her, only to catch her and resume tossing her high.

Karen nodded to herself, smiling gently. “Gotta say, you really messed up a few betting pools. Romantic getaway, one year anniversary…we were pretty sure you’d come back with some kind of announcement,” she said, wagging her eyebrows significantly.

He froze a bare second, but his wits rarely let him down. He smirked at her, and rubbed his belly. “Sorry, nobody's pregnant. I've just packed on a few pounds. Evan's a damn good cook, you know? Although I did notice Athena's not drinking tonight…”

Karen leveled him with a look. “I dare you to go say that in earshot of her,” she said dryly.

“Oh God, do I really look that stupid to you?”

“Kinard.”

“What?” He held his pretended ignorance for a few more seconds before cracking.

“Not to be all stereotypical on main, but showing up to the second date with an engagement ring and a UHaul is more your tribe's deal, Mrs. Wilson. It's only been a year.”

“Hey!” She balanced her plate of pie on her lap and reached over to smack him lightly on the bicep. “And no, it's not like we expected you two to come back engaged–”

“What'd Howie have the odds at?”

Karen waved a dismissive hand. “Seventy-five to one, but that's beside the point. You two have been solid. I've never seen Buck this happy, and you seem pretty content yourself. But you're not even talking about taking next steps? Moving in together? Getting a dog? Something?”

For the second time that evening, Tommy froze. He knew he was staring at Karen like a deer in headlights, knew he was giving away far too much in his expression. His brain ticked over a few times, like an old engine trying to cough to life on a cold day. Shit. Shit, shit, shit. He and Karen were friends, he liked her a lot…but they weren't this kind of friends. They weren't confidants like this. Unless…

“Did Evan say something?” he sputtered finally.

Karen took a contemplative sip of her wine, watching him with sharp, assessing eyes. Fuck, he'd prefer getting grilled like this by Hen. She was scarier, and fiercely protective of Evan, but also a little less surgically insightful in her observations.

“Hen brought it up last week,” she admitted after a moment, with a slight wince. “She was teasing him, since she knows his lease is up in a couple months. Buck…spiraled a little.”

And damn it. Damn it. He'd known about the lease, of course. Evan had mentioned it in passing a couple of times. But not in a way that had any weight of expectation…not in a way that made Tommy think he was hinting at anything. Fuck.

Karen narrowed her eyes at him, brow furrowing a little. “I mean--it’s not a big deal. Stereotypes aside, a year really isn't that long in the grand scheme of things. Buck's not expecting you to ask to move in together. I think it was more that you two haven't talked about the future at all. Which, again, everyone has their own timeline, but just in case you were waiting on him to bring it up, it's gonna have to be you. Buck's too gun-shy.”

Tommy couldn't help grimacing at the words. Yeah. That tracked. He knew all about Evan's previous girlfriends, and the couple times he'd ended up cohabitating. Of course Evan would be wary of even broaching the subject. Goddamn it.

“Hey,” Karen said suddenly, her voice going a bit quieter. “Tommy, I was just curious. Maybe a little worried. You two have seemed really happy….”

Tommy shook his head, sighing. “We are. Yeah, no, we are. I should've figured he was…I just should've noticed.”

Karen seemed to be realizing she had stumbled onto a larger issue than she initially thought. The wineglass joined the pie plate on the grass and she scooted her chair a little closer to his, turning her whole body towards him. “Okay, I feel like I'm missing some context here. What's going on?”

Such an easy question. One he even knew the answer to.

He wanted to take the next step with Evan, was the thing. Fuck, if he was honest with himself, he'd been wanting to take the next steps for a while now. Moving in together. Joining finances. Getting a goddamn dog.

Little pieces of Evan had been finding their way into his place for months, now. His toothbrush and preferred shower products in the bathroom. His spare clothes in the bottom drawer of Tommy’s dresser. His weird-ass organic oat milk and protein powder in the kitchen. Small little pieces and Tommy wanted more. Wanted it all. They'd been together for almost a year and a half. Karen was right, if Tommy saw a future with Evan it was well past time to start the discussion. The way they'd been going, their anniversary trip would have been the perfect time to bring it up, to ask Evan to just give up the loft and come stay, come be with Tommy all the time.

He could see a future with Evan. He could see everything with Evan. Rings. Vacations. Pets. Fuck, Evan had him thinking about kids and he'd never thought that was something he wanted. He could see it, though. He could see them growing old and gray together. So what was the hold up?

A loud burst of laughter startled him, and he looked over to find Eddie had stolen Jee from Evan and was spinning around and around while she shrieked for him to go faster. Evan was perched on the arm of Christopher’s lounge chair, watching the scene with a soft smile as he draped his arm around the boy's shoulders.

Yeah. That was the hold up.

Something must have shown on his face, because Karen followed his line of sight. He averted his eyes when she looked back at him.

“Tommy,” she started, but he just shook his head.

It wasn't like he hadn't known going in that Evan's place in Eddie's and Christopher's lives (and theirs in his) was…a lot. Probably more than a lot of people would be willing to put up with. He cared about the Diaz boys too, though, and again…he hadn't been expecting to love Evan so damn much. And really? It had been fine. A little awkward at first, but he liked to think that they'd all learned to walk a line that let all of them get what they needed out of the relationships. It had been fine.

Then Eddie started getting more serious about therapy. Not that he hadn't been before. After the…situation…that had resulted in Chris going to spend the summer with Eddie's parents, he'd started seeing one of the department counselors again. But eventually he'd moved on to more intensive therapy–sought out more specialized treatment. Tommy had actually been the one to put him in touch with a veterans’ group some of his friends from the service attended, and through them, Eddie had found a therapist he really clicked with. Someone who worked with combat veterans exclusively, saw PTSD every day.

It had been great. Even knowing him for a relatively short time, Tommy could see how much stronger he was. How much more settled and sure of himself.

How much he was realizing about himself.

Tommy wasn't going to say anything. He wasn't going to bring it up until Eddie did, knew intimately how difficult it was for you to admit something like that to yourself and live honestly…especially for guys like them, however unfair that was. He'd supported his friend, he and Evan both had, but privately he thought it was kind of a tossup if Eddie would ever let himself finish that journey.

It was fine. It was all fine.

Eddie was getting braver, though. Tommy could see it. Could see him settling further and further into his own skin, getting closer and closer to being able to be who he was meant to be. It was wonderful, and awful at the same time. Wonderful because Eddie was his friend who he cared about, and no one deserved to have to live a lie. That kind of denial festered inside you. It poisoned you from the inside out. Eddie was a good man. A good friend. Tommy was glad it looked like he'd be able to lance that wound and drain the poison.

It was awful because Tommy wasn't an idiot. And he could see the way Eddie looked at Evan.

He'd always kind of thought Eddie might come between them eventually.

“Look, I love Evan. I really do. I want a life with him. But–” he gestured towards the charming tableau: Evan with his arm around what was for all intents and purposes his and Eddie's kid, while Eddie played with Evan's niece. He shrugged at Karen, twisting in his seat a little so he wasn't facing his boyfriend and the man who was also in love with his boyfriend, and who had a connection to his boyfriend that Tommy deep down didn't think he could compete with. “Writing on the wall's a little obvious, isn't it? Sue me, I'm kind of hoping to at least keep my dignity when he…” He broke off, gritting his teeth so hard he felt the muscle in his jaw jump. “When he moves on,” he finished, as steadily as he could. Fuck. He'd never said it out loud before. It fucking hurt.

“What?”

He hadn't heard Evan approaching them. Neither had Karen, judging by the way her eyes widened. Slowly, agonizingly, Tommy turned in his seat to find his boyfriend staring at him with the most hurt, betrayed expression he'd ever seen on Evan's face.

He'd always kind of thought Eddie might eventually come between them.

But not like this.

[5starluvr]

Link up

Paring:Yang Jeongin × Reader

Genre:fluff,angst(just a tiny bit)

Warnings:fighting

Spider Kids

Something sweet before It gets angsty again ~

"Jeongin, you'll be partnered with Y/n," Ms. Jung declared, her voice booming across the classroom.

Jeongin's heart lurched. Y/n, the brilliant girl who seemed to exist on a different academic plane altogether? He stole a glance, catching her surprised gaze before she quickly returned to her meticulously highlighted notes.

The initial awkwardness was palpable. Summoning his courage, Jeongin mumbled a hesitant hello. Y/n offered a shy smile in return, her usual focus on academics momentarily broken. They settled on bioluminescence, a topic Y/n suggested with a shy smile. As they delved into research, a hesitant camaraderie blossomed.

———

One afternoon, hunched over laptops at the library, Jeongin blurted out, "You know, Spiderman uses bioluminescent material in his suit to blend in with the shadows."

Y/n's eyes widened in surprise. "Really? I never thought about that!" A spark ignited, and for the next hour, they weren't just classmates, they were co-conspirators, weaving science and fiction into a captivating presentation.

Weeks leading to the science fair flew by in a flurry of activity. Their project evolved into a dazzling display of glowing concoctions bubbling away in beakers and informative posters that showcased bioluminescence in nature and its potential applications. But the real magic happened during their presentation. Jeongin, usually tongue-tied, spoke with newfound confidence, his enthusiasm infectious. Y/n, at his side, chimed in with insightful details, her voice brimming with a shared passion.

They didn't just win first place; they won the respect and admiration of their classmates. As they packed up their project later, a comfortable silence hung between them. "Hey," Jeongin stammered, "maybe we could hang out sometime, outside of school?"

Y/n's cheeks flushed a rosy pink. "I'd like that," she said, her voice barely a whisper.

The weight of her backpack seemed to lessen as Y/n spotted Jeongin by the school gates the following afternoon. A nervous thrill danced in her stomach, a new sensation when it came to him. This wasn't just about dissecting the science fair aftermath; it was about exploring a newfound connection.

They walked side-by-side, replaying the highlights of the day. The golden light of the setting sun painted the world in warm hues as they found a quiet corner in the park. Jeongin pulled out a notebook, causing Y/n's heart to do a little skip.

"I was thinking about our project," he began, a hint of shyness tinging his voice.

"Me too," she admitted, excitement bubbling within her. "There's so much more to explore. Perhaps other bioluminescent organisms?"

His eyes lit up, mirroring her enthusiasm. "That's a great idea! We could even try creating a prototype for… hmm, maybe a self-illuminating bike path?"

Hours melted away as they delved into a whirlwind of ideas. They sketched diagrams, debated possibilities, and bounced thoughts off each other like fireflies flitting through the gathering dusk. The science project, a forced partnership at first, had blossomed into something more – a shared passion for science that crackled with intellectual curiosity.

As the stars began to pepper the darkening sky, reality intruded. "We should probably head home," Y/n said with a reluctant sigh.

Jeongin nodded, a similar sentiment etched on his face. "But hey," he added, a playful glint in his eyes, "who says the brainstorming has to stop here?"

Y/n's heart did a little flip. "Right," she managed, a smile blooming on her face. "Your place or mine?"

"My place," he blurted out, then cleared his throat. "If that's alright with you."

The warmth in his voice sent shivers down her spine. "Perfect," she replied, a feeling far stronger than just liking blooming within her.

——

The crisp autumn air swirled fallen leaves around their ankles as Jeongin and Y/n walked home from their usual science hangout. Laughter bubbled between them as they debated about various things.

Suddenly, a guttural roar shattered the peaceful evening. A hulking figure, shrouded in shadow, emerged from a deserted alleyway. Venom, the symbiote-enhanced villain, loomed before them, his glistening black form radiating menace.

Y/n's breath hitched. Fear, icy and sharp, clawed at her throat. Jeongin's face paled, but his stance remained resolute. He knew he had to act fast.

"Y/n, stay behind me!" he commanded, his voice firm despite the tremor within.

Y/n scrambled back, her eyes wide with terror. In a single, practiced motion, Jeongin ripped off his sweatshirt, revealing the now-familiar red and blue suit clinging to his skin. A mask materialized over his face, obscuring his features.

"Venom," Spiderman's voice, distorted by the mask, rang out. "Leave her alone."

Venom chuckled, a grotesque sound that sent shivers down Y/n's spine. "Another spider to squish," he snarled, his razor-sharp teeth glinting in the streetlight.

A brutal fight ensued. Venom, fueled by a dark rage, unleashed a barrage of razor-sharp tendrils. Spiderman, nimble and agile, dodged each attack with practiced ease. He countered with precisely placed web shots, attempting to immobilize the monstrous villain.

Y/n watched in stunned silence as the boy she knew as Jeongin, the one who stammered over complex scientific theories and built glowing concoctions, battled a monstrous creature with superhuman speed and agility. A newfound respect, tinged with a sliver of fear, bloomed in her chest.

As the fight raged, Y/n noticed a shift in Venom's movements. The symbiote seemed to be struggling, its black form flickering erratically. It was then she remembered something from their recent bioluminescence research – certain frequencies of light could disrupt some bioluminescent organisms.

"Jeongin!" she yelled, a desperate plea escaping her lips. "Light! You need light!"

Spiderman, momentarily distracted, caught her frantic scream. He glanced at the traffic light above, an idea sparking in his mind. With a well-aimed web shot, he triggered a short circuit, showering the area in a chaotic flicker of red, yellow, and green.

The effect was instantaneous. Venom recoiled, the symbiote writhing in agitation. Disoriented and weakened, the villain stumbled back, a frustrated screech tearing from his throat. Seizing this opportunity, Spiderman launched a final web attack, successfully encasing Venom in a sticky cocoon.

The air crackled with an unsettling silence as the villain struggled, his black form pulsating against the white webbing. Y/n rushed to Jeongin's side, relief washing over her features.

Jeongin, panting and slightly bruised, turned to face her. The mask felt suffocating, the secret it held a heavy burden. Yet, seeing the awe and gratitude in Y/n's eyes, he knew he couldn't keep hiding.

"Y/n..." he began, his voice strained. But before he could confess his dual identity, a wave of dizziness washed over him. The exertion of the fight, coupled with the emotional strain, took its toll. He stumbled, his vision blurring.

Y/n caught him before he could fall. As he looked into her worried eyes, he knew the truth would come out anyway. With a shaky breath, he pulled off the mask, revealing his face etched with exhaustion but resolute.

Y/n stared at him, her eyes wide with surprise, then with a slow dawning realization. Recognition flickered in her gaze, followed by a hesitant smile. "Jeongin?" she breathed.

A wave of relief washed over him. He wasn't sure what he'd expected – fear, anger, even disgust. But instead, he saw acceptance, a spark of something more complex in her eyes.

"It's me," he admitted, his voice barely a whisper.

A beat of silence hung heavy in the air, broken only by the distant wail of approaching sirens. Then, to his utter astonishment, Y/n burst out laughing, the sound echoing through the deserted street.

"Oh my gosh, Jeongin," she said, wiping a tear from her eye. "You're Spiderman!"

Jeongin stared at her, surprised by her reaction. "You're not mad?"

Y/n shook her head, her eyes sparkling with a newfound respect. "Mad? No way! That was amazing! You saved me!"

Jeongin let out a shaky breath of relief. The relief that washed over Jeongin was so profound it almost knocked him off his feet. Here he was, exposed, vulnerable, and… met with laughter and admiration?

Y/n, still wiping tears from her eyes, reached out and squeezed his hand. "Seriously, Jeongin, that was incredible! The way you moved, the strategy with the lights – you're a genius, even without a lab coat!"

A nervous chuckle escaped his lips. "Thanks, Y/n. I… I just wanted to protect you."

Her smile softened. "I know," she said, her voice barely a whisper. "And you did. You're my hero, Jeongin. Spiderman and… just Jeongin."

He couldn't help but grin, a warmth spreading through him that had nothing to do with the exertion of the fight. The secret was out, a weight lifted from his shoulders. But more importantly, a deeper connection had formed between them, forged in the crucible of danger and a shared secret.

The wail of approaching sirens grew louder. Y/n glanced down the street, her smile fading slightly. "We should probably get out of here before the police arrive,baby."

Taglist:open : @juskz @blackhairandbangs @sxnset-angel @emossssss @hanjsquokka @feelikecinderella @starlostastronaut @kpopsstuffs @lixxpix @jinnie-ret @bangchans-angel @puppyminnnie @michelle4eve @skzswife @saiko-skz @quailbagutte @briqnne @ilychee08 @dollce-exe

[sleepyparalysisdmon]

Orbit - Act Two

Y/N has a little problem and it’s that she’s literally never alone. She hasn’t known what a little peace and quiet is for nearly a decade. When her therapist suggests a wellness retreat, she expects to be bored to death and just maybe learn to like meditation a little bit. She does not expect to meet someone that she has an insane connection with. Too bad it might be too good to be true.

You can find the masterlist here. 

Genre: medium au, a hint of soulmate au, heavy on the angst 

Pairing: Minghao x reader (featuring therapist!Jeonghan, best friend!Junhui, and ghost!Vernon, with a tiny bit of coworker!Seungkwan)

TW/CW: *deep breath* a lot of discussion of death and moving on (or not) afterwards, grief, trauma (specifically regarding a car accident), therapy, meditation, hypnosis, sleep disturbances, psychic abilities, discussion of mental illness and treatments, and explicit smut. MDNI. 

There are some difficult topics in this story and they are handled as delicately as possible, but proceed with caution if anything here might be upsetting.

Word count: 9.4k

Jeonghan sets a metronome in front of you and you glare at him. 

“I am not in the mood,” you warn, feeling particularly temperamental today. You’re running on next to zero sleep and the only reason you showed up today is because he’d give you a hard time for cancelling on him. Again. Jeonghan huffs at you.

“Y/N, you have to work with me here. I’m a therapist, not an expert in mediumship, but I’m really trying here.”

“Where did you even get that thing? And are you trained in hypnosis? You know it’s not a recommended practice, right?” Your tone is biting, and Jeonghan narrows his eyes at you across the coffee table. 

“You’re in a fine mood today,” he bites back. “And if you must know, I borrowed it from a friend and I did take a class. And I was the one that sent you the article saying it was not recommended, remember? But your file breaks all of the rules for typical therapy, so I’ve tossed out the rule book when it comes to you.” 

In the six months since your wellness retreat, Jeonghan had doubled down on trying to find things that could help you gain control of your abilities. He had seemed to fully accept that you were indeed a medium. 

Maybe it had something to do with you relaying a message for him from behind the veil. His grandmother was not happy about the woman he was dating. Jeonghan had thrown his notebook in the trash can and announced his resignation, particularly after you nailed the way his grandmother would have ranted about it. And yet, he was there the next week, ready to try something new. 

He’d pressed about how your wellness retreat had gone and you’d done your best to dance around the topic. Yes, it was insightful but it would take some practice. He’d given up on pressing for more details and just asked for you to send him the things you found insightful so he could research them. This had led him down the rabbit hole over the last few months and now today’s experiment was apparently hypnosis. 

You’re still glaring at him from across the table. “What’s your goal with hypnosis?”

“First, to see if it works,” Jeonghan bites, before huffing, settling into his seat, taking on a defensive pose that you almost call him out for. “I think it might since the meditation has been working. And I’d like to explore your lost time.”

You tense. “What lost time exactly?”

Jeonghan hesitates before finally saying, “I’d like to explore the lost time of your accident. But we can start with smaller bouts of lost time instead, if you’d prefer.”

You shake your head. “I don’t know that it would be worth exploring the lost time during the accident. Supposedly, I was unconscious upon impact.”

Jeonghan nods, pursing his lips. “Maybe. But one thing I’ve learned from working with you is that you can’t assume that a word like ‘unconscious’ means ‘unaware’.” 

Your jaw ticks. He’s asking you to relive the genesis of all your troubles now. The only thing that could be worse than not knowing like you have for almost a decade is actually knowing. A lot of days, the facts you’d been given were enough. “If I… agree to this, how do you pull me out? I’m not interested in being re-traumatized on this fine Tuesday afternoon.” 

Jeonghan looks pleased that you’re even considering it. “We’ll use a code word that we establish up front. It would ideally have nothing to do with your situation and hearing it should break you from whatever you’re experiencing.” 

You can’t help but grimace a little. “You really have been to a hypnosis training, huh.” 

Jeonghan rolls his eyes. “Are you in or out? I have a back up for today if you’re out.”

You don’t have much to lose, except for maybe your sanity, but that’s been hanging by a very thin thread for a while. But missing your subway pickup might snap that thread just as easily. “I’m in.”

Jeonghan has you sit in the center of the couch, leaning back into the cushion. He says it’s important that you’re comfortable and relaxed. He even gives you a pillow to hold, musing that you can keep your defensive pose if it makes you feel safer. Then he sits up across from you, starting the metronome that faces you on the coffee table. 

“This is similar to meditation in the beginning. Watch the metronome, get in tune with the ticking. Maybe even sync up your breaths with it if it’s comfortable. When you’re ready, close your eyes,” Jeonghan instructs, sitting back in his seat. 

You’d gotten a little better at filtering and meditation, so you slip into that state with only a little resistance. Your eyes drift closed after a while, focusing on the steady click of the metronome amongst the noise. That noise starts to fade, but you hear Jeonghan somewhere in there. “Y/N, if you can hear me, nod your head.” You respond robotically. “Good. Our code word is ‘elephant’. If I say it, I want you to come back.” 

Silence stretches for a while and you do your best to focus on Jeonghan’s voice amongst the ticking when he speaks again. “Let’s go back to that night. You were driving right? What were you listening to?” 

You feel your body jerk in a weird way and then suddenly your hands are on the wheel. It’s dark and your passenger seat is full of bags. Jeonghan calls your name. “Some rock station, I don’t know the song,” you mumble. 

“Good. What were you planning to do that night when you got to your parents’ house?”

It’s not a memory exactly, but rather an active thought. You can’t wait to have dinner. Your mom is making one of your favorites because it’s your first time back home in nearly six months. “Hungry,” you say shortly. “Mom is making dinner for me.”

“You’re doing good, Y/N. How’s the weather?”

“Terrible. A lot of snow. I’m driving slow but it’s still slick.”

“Okay.” You wait, still ‘driving’ with your grip on the steering wheel tight. “Now, think about just before the accident. What do you see? Take a look around.” You look around, right and then left. There are no turns ahead yet but there’s a car coming your way on the other side of the road. The headlights veer in an unsettling way and then the light closes in on you fast. Panic slices through you. “Deep breath, Y/N. It’s a memory. It can’t hurt you. Slow things down. This is all up to you. Hit pause and look around.” Jeonghan’s wrong. It isn’t all up to you and you can’t hit pause because the car is on you in a heartbeat. But, unlike how your memory stops at that moment, you’re still conscious. “Y/N?” 

In the blink of an eye, you’re in the ditch, a horn blaring, but you aren’t sure which car it comes from. You look to the left. “It’s a tan sedan,” you blurt. 

“Okay. Can you make out anything else?”

You shake your head in this little vision of yours because you can’t. It’s too dark. There’s motion from the other car and even though you’ve sort of lived this before, relief floods you. Someone approaches in the darkness, but you can’t make it out. Whatever out of body you’re experiencing is starting to fade. Your neck and left side suddenly hurt. You’re in the car and yet you’re not. 

When it starts to become unbearable, you hear Jeonghan say, “elephant” and then you’re slamming back into your body. You squeeze your eyes shut because the light is too bright and all the noise makes you feel like your head might explode. All of it makes you fold into the pillow in your lap. The clicking stops and Jeonghan’s hand is on your back, a solid pressure that gradually brings you back to reality. He hands you a wad of tissues when you sit up. When you wave him off, he gets you some water and sits back down across from you, not looking relaxed at all. 

“Anything?” He finally asks. 

You shake your head, feeling defeated. “No. Not really.” The timer goes off and he turns it off, before pinning you with a long look. 

“Do you want to talk about it now? Or do you want some time to think about it?”

You feel so drained that the only thing you can say is, “I’ll see you next week.” He lets you go without a single snarky comment this time. 

You arrive to work a few minutes early and are kind of surprised by how many people are already there. Seungkwan spots you from the crowd and comes to meet you at your desk. “Did I miss a meeting invite?” You ask, scrambling for the app on your phone. 

“No. Didn’t you get the email?” Seungkwan asks, confused. You give him a blank look that must be answer enough. “Mr. Kim died yesterday.” 

Your eyes widen and you place the phone on your desk, giving Seungkwan your full attention. Mr. Kim was one of your managers, a sweet old man that was well past retirement age but enjoyed working to keep busy, particularly after his wife had passed and his kids had all moved away. His death isn’t a surprise exactly, but it’s still devastating in that he was such a positive force in the office. Everyone loved working with Mr. Kim. “What happened?” You ask weakly.

“He wasn’t feeling well and stayed home from work yesterday. When he didn’t answer the phone, one of his neighbors came to check on him. Must have gone in his sleep,” Seungkwan explains, clearly upset. You mask your relief because it’s not at all appropriate to show, but you think that it’s a good thing that it was in his sleep. You’ve seen what a traumatic death does to someone and you would never wish it on anyone, least of all Mr. Kim. 

“That’s awful,” you sigh. “Have they made arrangements yet?” 

Seungkwan shakes his head. “Not yet, but I hear they will today.”

You nod, letting Seungkwan drift to someone else as they approach with the same confusion that you had. You make it a point to not go to funerals for obvious reasons, but you’ll make the exception for Mr. Kim. 

Speaking of, you sit down at your desk… and see Mr. Kim. He’s sitting at his desk, twiddling a pen with a soft smile. He makes eye contact with you, raising the pen in his boney fingers like he’s waving at you. You smile to yourself, before wiping it away because it’s totally inappropriate amongst the grieving and log in to your computer. You have a feeling he won’t stick around for long, which is all you hope for Mr. Kim, even if you’ll miss him. 

You make it a point to not go to funerals, but you know you should show up to one with flowers when you go. After all, you had nineteen normal years to teach you those sort of things. 

You get to the area of town that the funeral home is in early and find the nearest florist shop. It’s a cute, little place, the exterior a dark red brick with pristine white shutters nailed around the wide windows. The bell dings above the door when you walk in and the shop is empty, save for you and a bunch of plants. 

Plants aren’t your forte, but you browse them. Most are too bright for the occasion - you don’t need a florist to tell you that. “Hey, I’m sorry, I was wrapped up in something.” 

You twirl at the sound of the voice, not because it came out of nowhere, but because it’s familiar. Minghao is standing behind the counter, clad in an apron, wiping his hands on a towel. He looks equally shocked. 

“Y/N? This is a surprise.” You feel warm all over at how his face lights up, like he’s genuinely happy to see you despite how you’d left things six months ago. You give him a shy smile back. 

“It is. I didn’t know you were a florist.” You glance around the shop before looking at him again. “This does remind me of you, though. It’s… comforting in here.”

He looks a little sheepish. “Maybe. I’m still trying to make it mine. I bought it off of the previous owner last year. I worked for her for years and couldn’t stand to see the place fall into someone else’s hands.”

You feel even more warm and fuzzy. “That’s thoughtful of you.” You both stare at each other for a long moment. “I’m… sorry I didn’t reach out. I feel stupid about it, but I lost your number somewhere between the airport and home.”

Minghao kind of looks entertained. “And here I thought you were just ghosting me.”

“No, not on purpose anyway,” you chuckle. 

He’s still smiling softly as his eyes sweep across you. “You look good, Y/N. Dare I ask what brings you here though?”

You’re not sure what kind of answer he expects, but he turns sympathetic when you say, “I’m attending a funeral in a couple hours.”

“I’m so sorry for your loss. Let me help you find something,” he says, walking around the counter to meet you out in the open. He takes you to a particular shelf containing some muted flowers. “Can I ask who it’s for?”

“One of my managers. He was a sweet guy, always looking out for everyone, particularly the younger team members,” you answer, feeling the sadness creeping up again every time you think about it. You haven’t had to grieve very many people in this way, though you’d sort of grieved plenty of people you didn’t know. Minghao’s hand brushes your shoulder in comfort and you suck in a breath as the sound mutes just like it did six months ago. He must think he’s done something wrong, because he pulls back quickly, going back to business.

“Roses and Lillies are typical choices for something like this. You can’t really go wrong with it. Marigolds work too.” You wait because he doesn’t seem totally pleased with any of these options when you glance up at him. “These are from you alone?” You nod. He abruptly spins, walking to the other side of the shop and you follow. “These are hyacinths. The purple ones symbolize sorrow.” You look at the flowers in front you and then up to him questioningly. He gives you a bit of a rueful smile. “Your relationship with this sort of thing isn’t really typical. You need something a little special.” 

You look up at him, blinking back tears. He might think it’s because of where you’re going later today, and it certainly contributes, but really you’re overwhelmed just like you were six months ago by how he just gets you. Your voice is a little watery when you say, “That sounds great.”

He arranges everything just so with a level of perfectionism that feels unmatched. You wonder if he puts that kind of work into every order. Perhaps he does. He seems like a meticulous personality, but you kind of wish this was something special for you and you feel selfish for the thought. When you pull out your wallet and ask how much you owe, he waves you off. “Minghao, please let me pay.” He stubbornly shakes his head, handing you the bouquet over the counter. You sigh, accepting them and holding them against your chest gently. “Thank you, Minghao.”

You aren’t ready to leave right this second and he must sense it. He walks around the counter, taking the bouquet from you and lying on the counter. Then he’s opening his arms to you and you don’t think twice falling into them. It’s not even the silence that is peaceful. It’s his scent and warmth and the way he gently rubs your back. When you eventually pull away, he beats you to drying your tears, hand lingering against your cheek. 

The shop phone rings, the tone shocking you out of the moment. “I’m sorry, I should let you get back to work,” you say, pulling away from him. He lets his arms fall but he doesn’t rush for the phone, watching you grab the bouquet and make your way to the door. Your hand is on the door knob when he calls out your name. 

“Don’t be a stranger. You know where to find me now.”

You smile and nod. You do know where to find him and you don’t know if he was ever really a stranger. You just don’t know what to do with any of that because the connection with him is scary in its intensity. 

You don’t have time to think about it because you have to get to the funeral home. 

Vernon nudges you awake sometime after 3am. You blink sleepily at him and you can already tell what he’s going to say because you’ve seen that face before. “Working again?” You mumble. 

“Yeah. It was a lot this time. Scoot over,” he says simply. You do as he says and he plops down next to you. You feel yourself dozing off again, the effects of the medication you took before bed still strong in your system. You hadn’t made a habit of taking it, but you thought you might need some help tonight after spending the afternoon at a funeral home - aka a hotbed for ghosts. “It hasn’t been quite that bad in a while,” Vernon muses, making you jolt from sleep.

“Had to go to a funeral today. I think I have some stragglers,” you mumble, rubbing your eyes. 

“Ah,” Vernon says like it makes all the sense in the world. Maybe it does to him, being on the other side of the veil. 

“Vernon?” He hums. “Do you remember dying?”

He’s quiet for a long time. This is a topic that you don’t bring up often. He just doesn’t seem to want to talk about it. Eventually, he says, “Sort of.”

You look at him with hopeful eyes. “I’m not the only one with breaks from time?”

Vernon shakes his head. “No, you aren’t the only one.” He stares up at the ceiling for a while. “I remember drifting away. But I don’t remember a lot before that moment. One moment I’m with my friend and the next I’m staring up at a bunch of doctors and nurses, fading in and out.”

You blink at him in the darkness. In the nearly ten years that he’s been around, he’s never given this much information. “That must have been scary,” you mumble. 

Vernon looks at you with an entertained smile. “It’s funny that you of all people should say that. The only difference is that you didn’t drift away for good.”

“Can I ask you something?” You say. He raises an eyebrow, probably biting back a comment that says you already have. “Do you know why you haven’t moved on yet?”

“Trying to get rid of me?” Vernon teases. You pin him with a look and he rolls his eyes. “Sorry, sorry.” Then he gets serious. “I don’t know. It’s not like I haven’t tried. It’s just out of reach and I don’t know why.”

You nestle into your pillow a little more, lost in thought. “I’m sorry.” 

He shakes his head at you. “There’s nothing for you to be sorry for. Life keeps going, even when it looks a little different. Go back to sleep. I’ll be here.”

As you doze off again, you resolve that if you can ever figure out how to use this little gift, you’ll help him move on if he wishes. You just have to figure out how to do that first. 

Some Saturday mornings, you’re so restless that while you’d love to be in bed asleep, that doesn’t happen. You give up trying to go back to sleep around 5:30am and get dressed for the day. You kind of like to walk it off while the city is still sort of asleep. So you slide on your headphones and start walking aimlessly. 

You end up on the subway, riding for a while, then pick a stop at random really, getting off to walk the streets some more. Your mind is elsewhere and this isn’t quite the time loss that you and Jeonghan talk about all the time, but it’s certainly related. You don’t know where your mind is at when you end up in front of Minghao’s shop hours later. 

It’s a nice morning now, a little breezy but sunny at nearly 10am. You study the front of the flower shop. The lights are on but the sign on the door is flipped to Closed. You turn, thinking about where to go next. Your head is a little fuzzy when you snap back to reality like this, like parts of your brain are still booting up, and you don’t hear the shop door open behind you, too busy thinking about which line you should get back on, or if you should just hike it now that it’s daylight. The sunlight would be good for you, probably. 

“Y/N?” 

You spin, wide eyes meeting Minghao’s. He’s propped the door open, maybe to let some fresh air in. He smiles like he did last week when you stopped in and surprised him, but the longer he looks at you, his face starts to shift in concern. If he had any smart ass comment or cheery good morning, he doesn’t say it because he must sense you’re a little off kilter. “Do you want to come in?” 

Your feet carry you in without your mind really catching up. Minghao lets you ramble the store for a while, while he does some opening chores. You don’t hear him sneak up on you, but you know he did when the world goes quiet at the pressure of his hand on your shoulder. 

“Why don’t you help me water some of these?” 

You’re suddenly totally with it, looking sheepish. “Oh, I shouldn’t. I have absolutely no green thumb. It might actually be a danger to your business for me to even be here.”

His eyes crinkle when he smiles. You hadn’t noticed it before. Maybe he just hadn’t smiled like he is now. It’s relaxed and easy, soothing even. “I trust you.”

“You shouldn’t,” you snort. “At best, I’ll under-water it, and at worst I’ll drown it.” 

He picks up a small watering can from one of the shelves, handing it to you. He lets go of your shoulder and your eyes widen because the sound doesn’t rush back, at least not how it often does with him. It’s not a 0 to 10 sort of thing today. It’s more of a 0 to 5 at most. Not that you even know what to say about it, but he’s leading you to one of the shelves by the window, pulling you out of your thoughts. 

He keeps you busy most of the morning and you let him. A handful of customers trickle in, most for orders that are waiting for them already. You even handle a couple of those while Minghao consults with customers who aren’t sure what to buy. 

The afternoon is quiet. He’s taught you how to properly trim stems so you both are working on that when he asks, “feel better?” 

You feel so transparent around him, and normally that sort of thing would drive you up the wall, but you find it makes you feel safe with him. “Yeah, thank you for letting me hang out here.”

“My door is always open for you.” The ingenuity in his voice makes your throat clog up with emotion. “Do you wander like that often? You seemed kind of checked out.”

“Occasionally,” you say. “There are some gaps of time where I do that. I’ve been told it’s a stress response, but I don’t know.”

He’s quiet for a bit, but you know he’s not ignoring you. You know better than to think that. Whatever he says is always thoughtful. So you wait patiently, snipping stems. 

“I thought about you, you know?” You glance up at him and he’s not really cutting anymore, stem and scissors loose in his hands. He must think you mean about your last night together and he shakes his head. “Not like that. At least not as much as I was worried about you. I left that retreat wanting to see you happy, not being weighed down by everything you experience.”

You always feel so fucking emotional with him. You suck in a shaky breath, busying yourself with another stem. “It’s gotten… better. Incrementally, at least. I’ve kind of resigned myself to not having a cure for this sort of thing, but it’s not quite as suffocating as it once was.” You stop yourself before you tell him how much of an impact he had in just a few days on that. 

His gaze is sweet and you have to look away again, busying yourself with the next stem. You don’t know how many seconds, or even minutes, tick by before he finally says, “that’s great, Y/N. I’m really glad I met you.”

You give him a shy smile, hoping your eyes don’t shine as much as you feel that they do. “Me too, Minghao.”

Jeonghan gives a look that is crystal clear. That’s one thing about him, he does very little to mask what he’s thinking. He probably could (and he’d be far more ‘professional’ for it), but there’s something disarming about him choosing not to. It sort of takes the edge off of his typical bluntness when he speaks. 

Minghao squirms under Jeonghan’s look, which makes Jeonghan’s mouth tip upwards even more. Minghao knows he’s in trouble when Jeonghan puts his notebook aside, settling into his seat with a sly smile.

“Xu Minghao is twitchy. This should be something,” Jeonghan muses, waving his hand expectantly. “Come on, tell me.”

Minghao pins him with a look. “I regret ever calling you and making an appointment. You’re actually the worst.”

Jeonghan snorts. “You think that offends me? Someone threw a pillow at me yesterday and that was the gentlest of threats during that session.”

“You probably deserved it,” Minghao bites, crossing his arms. “You like to mouth off.”

Jeonghan still looks highly entertained. “That’s what I was told then too.” He finally settles, smile dimming to something more appropriate for therapy. “Come on. What’s on your mind?” Minghao blinks a few times. Jeonghan narrows his eyes and then groans, rubbing a hand down is face. “What is it with you people shutting down on me in the first five minutes?”

“Try having some tact,” Minghao smarts, picking up a pillow to hold in his arms. Jeonghan watches him move into the defensive pose, an unusual look flashing across his face, before he shakes it off. 

“Fine. Serious therapist face on now. What’s the deal today?”

“It’s kind of a long story,” Minghao dodges. 

Jeonghan gives him a dry look. “You have an hour and you’re paying me to listen. So I have time.”

Minghao scoffs, looking anywhere but Jeonghan. He doesn’t like therapy. It requires divulging things that he feels are too personal, which he only does on the rarest of occasions. He knows that’s the entire point but it makes him squirm in a way that he normally never would. He sometimes forgets why he called and made an appointment almost two years ago, mostly because he clammed up in the first appointment and has stayed clammed up ever since. 

He’s also not prone to blurting out things, but he just spits it out because it might drive him crazy to hold it in any longer. “Do you believe in soulmates?” 

Jeonghan’s quiet for a few long beats and Minghao is afraid to look at him, opting to stare at a pot of fake flowers on Jeonghan’s bookshelf in the corner. Minghao keeps telling Jeonghan he’ll just bring some fresh ones in regularly and Jeonghan brushes him off every time. He thinks he might just do it one day without asking.

“I can’t say I’ve ever experienced something like that myself, but I’m kind of a fan of the concept. It’s pretty romantic. Why do you ask?”

“I met someone,” Minghao finds himself mumbling. 

He doesn’t have to look at Jeonghan to know that he’s intrigued. “Oh? Recently?” 

“Not exactly.” Minghao twirls the tassels of the pillow distractedly. “It was about six months ago. At that retreat. I ran into her again recently though.” 

Jeonghan hums and Minghao sort of wishes he’d pick up the notebook again. He hates when he makes a ton of notes, but he thinks he hates it more when he completely abandons the concept of notes altogether. “Fascinating.”

“Try to seem less excited. You’re supposed to be sympathetic,” Minghao practically begs. 

“You haven’t given me any information to be sympathetic about yet. And I wouldn’t think finding someone you consider your soulmate warrants sympathy, anyway. So I’ll need you to fill in the gaps here.”

Minghao isn’t really proud by how so not composed he is when he huffs, tossing the pillow aside and standing to pace. He feels Jeonghan watch him and Minghao’s sure he’s entertained. He’s never been a pacer in therapy, or really anywhere else in his life. He’s usually not even much of a talker. Jeonghan has to work pretty hard for the bits of information he does get in their sessions. 

“I don’t think I’ve ever connected with someone like that before. It’s something really special. To me, at least.” 

“And you said that you’ve run into her recently?” 

“I didn’t think I’d see her again actually. I don’t even know her last name or what she does for a living or much of anything else because it never even came up. And then I didn’t hear from her after we left the retreat. And then she just walks into my shop one day six months later. We were both surprised.”

“Romantic, something out of a movie, really,” Jeonghan muses. “Is she into all the spiritualist stuff too?” 

Minghao snorts. “Not really. At least, not much.” 

“Why is that?” Jeonghan asks curiously. 

Minghao wants to say more, wants to get it all off his chest, but it’s not his thing to share. “It’s hard to explain. But she started to come around to it at the end of the retreat.” 

“And does she seem into you?” 

The question shouldn’t blindside him the way it does, but he stops in his pacing. He rubs the back of his neck. He thinks you probably wouldn’t have slept with him that night if you weren’t at least a little into him. You don’t strike as the type to just do that. Not that it would be a problem, but you seem to like your space and a one night stand felt uncharacteristic. It makes him wonder why he seemed to be an exception. 

Jeonghan calls his name and Minghao is pulled out of his daze. “I don’t know. Maybe.”

Jeonghan’s smile is light, losing the look of pure entertainment from a few moments ago. He shrugs. “It’s worth exploring. I can’t make any comments on soulmates or anything.” He rolls his eyes, “but I’ve been researching some pretty interesting things lately, so… just see where it goes. What’s her name?”

“Y/N,” Minghao says, sighing a little, defeated. Jeonghan’s expression changes for only a flash before he is smiling lightly again. 

“See where it goes. Not just anyone shakes the Xu Minghao.” 

Minghao decides to take the leap. At some point today, anyway. When he works up the courage, that is. 

It’s a slow day at the shop. All orders have been filled and he doesn’t expect a lot of business today since it’s the middle of the week. There will be a rush after most people start getting off of work, but until then he has nothing to do. No orders. No watering. No repotting. 

That means he has all the time in the world to stare at your contact on his phone. 

It’s a pretty new addition, just entered into his phone a couple weeks ago when you last visited. It was you who thought to ask and he was elated to give his number to you. But since trading numbers, he hadn’t heard from you. Hadn’t seen you either. Since the beginning of all this, he’d decided to let you come to him. You seem like you wouldn’t like the pressure of him pursuing you. But he was getting antsy to be in your presence again. He wishes he had something, anything to do to keep him from almost calling or texting. He can’t think of a single time that a woman had made him so… twitchy. That was the word that Jeonghan had used. He’d known he was in trouble the moment he met you that first morning at the retreat. Then he thinks maybe that’s not totally true and brushes it off, busying himself with moving pots here and there in the window just for the sake of something to do. 

Minghao’s rewritten a single text a dozen times and finally feels satisfied enough to hit send when his phone buzzes and he almost drops it, heart racing. It’s a message from you. ‘Do you happen to be free tonight?’

It takes him an embarrassingly long time to reply because he needs some time to panic. Finally, he sends back, ‘You read my mind.’ He trades a few more messages with you to make plans.

Minghao closes up shop right at 5pm and rushes home to shower. His hands shake a little when he pulls up in front of your apartment building. He said he’d go up and get you when he was here, but he parks and turns off the car, just taking a breather. Pursuing this is simultaneously the best and the worst thing he could do. But he would be helpless to turn you down. He’s felt that way since he met you. 

He jumps at a small ‘knock knock’ on his passenger window. It’s dark but he knows it’s you. He just knows. It’s so ridiculous how all his panic drains as you open the door and slide into the passenger seat, giving him a soft smile. 

“Sorry, I got impatient,” you say sheepishly. Your words make all of his insides do little flips. You look pretty, hair pulled up in a ponytail away from your face. You’d followed his instructions, dressing warmly in thick leggings, a sweatshirt, and boots. You’re also wrapped in a puffy coat that swallows you. It makes him so fucking soft and he can’t believe you’re in his car right now. You reached out to him this afternoon to see him.

“That’s okay, I was just about to come and get you anyway,” Minghao answers, feeling sort of shy. 

In the darkness, it seems like you might flush a little. It’s strange because you usually seem so unaffected by those sort of things. Until you two slept together on the last night of the retreat, he really assumed that things were one sided. He’s still not sure if you feel anything close to what he does, but he’s hooked regardless. 

“What did you have in mind?” You ask gently. 

Minghao blinks, coming back to reality. “I was thinking a night drive, maybe look at the stars.” He watches the corners of your lips turn up, eyes turning a little entertained. “Unless you don’t believe in that sort of thing either.”

You snort and he thinks it’s one of his favorite sounds. It’s the type of thing that couldn’t be attractive if anyone else did it, but he loves when you do it. “Hao, I’ll go look at the stars with you. You don’t even have to ask.”

Minghao can’t help the big smile that spreads across his face. This might be the first time he’s felt giddy. “Buckle up.”

Nearly an hour later, he parks in the middle of nowhere outside of the city. He meets you at the hood of the car with a blanket, holding your hand to help you climb on and lay down. When he’s laid down next to you and tossed the blanket across both of you, he finds that you’re already looking at him. Your hand lands on his chest at the exact same time that he throws out his arm for you to slide into. He suppresses a deep sigh once you’re curled up into his side with your head on his chest. His hand curls into your waist and he thinks this must be what peace feels like. It’s what he’s been after for years. 

Minghao kind of thinks you might have dozed off when you surprise him by turning to look at the sky. “So what am I looking at here? Be my tour guide.” He tilts his head down to look at you and you meet his questioning look. A little playful pout falls onto your lips and he really has to resist kissing it off of you. “What? You were my tour guide at the retreat. You know about stars too, right?”

It’s his turn to snort. “Not that much, no. I just think it’s pretty.” You chuckle against his chest and you can probably feel how his heart races. But he still tells you want he knows. It eventually devolves into just finding your own shapes in the sky. But at some point, he realizes that you’ve stopped looking at the sky and are looking at him. He gives you a curious look because he doesn’t quite understand the expression on your face. It’s vulnerable but he doesn’t know what it means. 

“Are you always this romantic?” You ask like it’s a serious question. 

“No,” Minghao says automatically. “At least not like this.”

“Oh, so I’m special or something? You don’t take women out to look at the stars all the time?” You tease, grinning up at him. 

He absolutely cannot help reaching out to brush your cheek. He likes how your eyelashes flutter at the touch. “You’re very special, and no, this would be the first.” He bites his tongue to keep from saying it will probably be the only one too. He can’t imagine doing something like this with anyone else. It would feel too hollow and performative - a strong attempt to be romantic, whereas with you, it’s effortless.

You still look vulnerable, your big eyes staring up at him, but there’s something sobering about your expression. “Hao? What’s happening here?”

That’s such a loaded question and it makes him hesitate. It’s not that he wants to be dishonest - far from it. But there are some things he just doesn’t know how to say yet, so he opts for something he knows is true. “It’s what you want it to be.” 

“So you feel something then?”

Again, such a loaded question. “I feel a lot when it comes to you.” He brushes some baby hairs out of your face. “Do you?”

“Yeah,” you whisper. 

“Oh, thank god,” Minghao sighs. 

You aren’t totally sure how you got here. You and Minghao eventually get cold while laying on the hood of the car but aren’t ready to go home so you both climb in the back seat. As you warm up, it starts with taking off your coats, then your sweatshirts. And now you feel like you’re dripping sweat as you’re nearly naked in Minghao’s lap as he sits in the backseat. 

The tone of this is different than that night at the hotel. It certainly doesn’t lack the intimacy and passion, but it does lack some of the gentleness he used last time. There’s even a tinge of desperation that makes your head spin. You’re enjoying it, the way he grips your hips and leaves some stinging bites on your neck and chest before soothing the sting with a sweet kiss or a soft sweep of his tongue. The back and forth of rough and sweet has you on the edge, gasping for air before he’s even felt how wet you are. 

Minghao finishes sucking a bruise onto your collarbone, sighing against the sore spot between little kisses. “You sound so pretty. Do you feel good?”

Your mind is numb in the best way. Not only is it silent, but you couldn’t imagine thinking about anything besides him. Nothing else exists outside of this car to you at the moment. “Yes,” you mumble, gripping his shoulders as he starts another bruise on your breast this time. “Can I have you?”

He groans against your breast, his fingers digging into your hips roughly. “You already have me.”

Last time was slow, almost painfully so. This time, it’s painful how much time it takes to yank his sweats and boxers down to his thighs and to pull your panties to the side. He maneuvers you by the hip, helping you slide down on him. The deep sigh that he lets out into your ear rattles our brain and when you’re fully seated, the rush from moments ago is gone. Like last time, he stays buried inside of you, totally still. You fold into his neck and his arms wrap around you tightly, hands soothing up and down your back. You wonder if it will always end up being less about the sex and more about the intimacy with him. He took you to the sky last time, of course, but what you remembered the most in the months that passed since then was the way that he held you close like this. 

You have no idea how long you sit in his lap like that. It’s only when you place a mindless kiss on his neck that the fire lights up in you again. The moment your lips hit his neck, you feel the little vibration of the sound he holds back. You place a few more kisses there, testing the waters. But the moment he tilts his head to give you more access, you’re all over him. As you kiss and suck spots onto his neck, you feel him tensing under you - his shoulder under your hand raises a bit, his fingers dig into your waist, his cock twitching inside you as his hips jerk up on occasion. It makes you grind a little and you love how he becomes putty in your hands. A moan falls from his lips and it spurs you on, lifting your head to press your lips onto his. His tongue dips into your mouth as you lift your hips and lower again, starting a slow rhythm. 

Your thighs ache when he finally pulls away from your lips to whisper against your lips, “I’m close.” 

“Come inside, I’m on the pill.” 

The words seem to light a fire. His eyes pinch closed and his hand flies into your skewed underwear to rub your clit. It all has you gasping, tears pricking your eyes at the overwhelm. “Please come. I’ll come with you.”

The promise throws you over the edge, back arching. His hands slam you down to take him deeply and he holds you there, burying his face in your neck as he comes. The feeling is totally consuming, just like everything else with him. 

When you both have come down some, you both relax. He slumps back into the seat and you slump into him. You both have long caught your breath and the sweat has started to dry when you chuckle against the skin of his neck. 

“What?” He asks sweetly. 

“This will sound stupid. But does this mean we’re together?”

You’re sort of afraid to look at him, but he doesn’t make you. You feel his heart underneath your hand and it makes you feel better that you aren’t the only one. His hands sweep up and down your back in a way that you don’t think you’ll ever get enough of. “That’s what I’d like. Do you want that?”

You place a little kiss on his neck. “Yeah,” you whisper. “That’s what I want.” You swear you feel him sigh underneath you.

Minghao is laying in your bed next to you. It’s become a habit over the last month or so since getting together. He likes being in your space and you must like it too because you’ve already given him a key. When you did, he asked if you were sure and you’d given him this look that he still can’t figure out before insisting. 

He kind of feels like he’s floating with you. He gets the stuff that kept him grounded out of the way - he knows your full name, and what you do for a living, and where you’re from. All those things that you both would already know if you had more than a couple minutes of normal chitchat when you first met. But truly, your surname doesn’t matter, and neither does your job or where you’re from. Nice to know, sure, but your answers would have had very little impact on how consuming his feelings for you were becoming. 

You both had dinner together tonight and he agreed to stay over. It’s really his favorite thing, the domesticity of it all. He thinks he’ll never get tired of it. Like now, you’re curled up into his chest, snoring softly. You say you get better rest when he’s here. He does too, even though his night is no less active than usual. 

When he dozes off, he knows the moment that he slips away from his body. It’s happened enough times over the years that he knows it’s not just simple dreaming. Jeonghan calls it drifting. Minghao remembers how perplexed he’d been at his therapist’s word choice, but Jeonghan wouldn’t budge. Maybe it was because things like lucid dreaming or astral projecting didn’t fit into his textbooks or any version of the DSM, at least not in any sort of diagnosable way. Minghao knew that dreaming was really a huge question mark for psychologists, so he had resigned himself to Jeonghan or any other therapist not really being able to fix his issue. 

The drift looks different every time, like he’s standing in a different spot in the room every time. This time, he’s right where he fell asleep, in bed next to you. He can’t feel you curled up next to him, though he can see you. But he sees other things when he drifts. 

At the moment, that’s Vernon, sitting at the desk watching the TV on mute. It’s not the first time he’s seen Vernon. “Do you ever leave?” 

Vernon snaps his head in Minghao’s direction, a guarded expression on his face. “Yes, quite often actually.” He whispers. Minghao doesn’t quite know why he does that, but he thinks maybe Vernon is afraid of waking you up. Minghao still doesn’t understand everything, but it seems like people like you can peek into other planes. Vernon had likened it to a building. He’s upstairs, but when Minghao drifts, he drifts upstairs through the ceiling, usually without meaning to. And you, well… you know exactly where the stairs are whether you realize it or not.

“And you check up on my girlfriend all the time, why?” Minghao prods. 

Vernon rolls his eyes, turning back to the TV. “I’ll have you know that I’ve been visiting her for nearly ten years. You’re the one that’s truly new here.” 

“Do you have a crush or something?” Minghao teases, ignoring the unsettled feeling in his stomach. 

Vernon rolls his eyes again. “You know, I’ve hated you since I met you.” Minghao rolls his eyes back. “No, I don’t have a crush. It’s just that I’d consider her a friend and I worry about her.” Vernon crosses his arms, leaning back into the chair. “Plus, I can’t move on, so…”

Minghao doesn’t quite know what to say because that’s pretty far outside of his wheelhouse, no matter how spiritual he is. Vernon stands, turning off the TV and stretching. “Leaving?”

“Yeah,” Vernon says. “You guys are gross and I’m not needed anyway.” 

“Not needed?” Minghao echoes, confused.

Vernon gives him a look that says, ‘are you stupid?’ “There’s no line. She’s actually sleeping. Seems to be something you can handle, so that means I’m going for a walk.”

Minghao blinks as Vernon leaves, looking around the room. Huh. There is no line. He wonders how long that’s been the case. He doesn’t drift far from his body, just in case. 

It’s on a Sunday in late November when it clicks for Minghao. He’s at your apartment again. The shop is closed today so you and Minghao take it slow this morning. It starts with the sex. He thinks calling it sex is too crass. It doesn’t capture the depth of the moment accurately. He laughs to himself a little as he’s washing your hair in the shower afterwards because ‘making love’ doesn’t feel like it really comes close either. You think he’s laughing at how you’re squinting to keep soap out of your eyes and you scold him lovingly without even looking at him. It doesn’t click then. 

You guys make breakfast together. Since you both have the time you make a big spread, not just some toast. He listens to you chatter the whole time. He thinks he would have never gotten to the point where you talk the way you do with him now. You were so tightlipped when he met you. But he thinks he’d never get tired of the sound of your voice. It doesn’t click then. 

You wash the dishes while he dries them. He makes a smart ass comment and you flick some water at him. The air is sweet, overwhelmingly so, and he really can’t help the grin that’s spread across his face. He gets the cheesy phrases that he used to roll his eyes at. Weak in the knees. Heart racing. Brain empty except for anything to do with you. Head over heels. That last one in particular always made him chuckle, but he gets it now and never wants to not feel that way again. It doesn’t click then. 

It’s chilly, but you guys decide to grab your coats and go for a walk. It’s brief but he holds your hand the entire time. When you guys settle in again at your apartment, he goes to make some tea. You both sit on the couch and watch the TV on a low volume, drinking your tea. When both mugs are empty, you throw back your blanket and lay down, opening your arms to him. His brain stalls out. This is when it clicks. 

There’s some emotion bubbling up in him and his eyes prick with tears that he tries to blink back. He likes taking care of you and protecting you. Likes how you seem to feel secure around him when that seems to be sort of uncommon for you. But when you look at him like that, offering him a warm place to lay under the blanket with you… well, it crushed him in the best way possible. 

Minghao crawls to lay half on top of you, face pressed into your neck. Your arms fold around him and then the blanket comes around you both. That emotion might eat him alive, especially as you start to comb your fingers into his hair. 

“I love you.” Your fingers stop in his hair and he can feel your pulse quicken under his lips. “I’m in love with you. I don’t think it could ever be like this with anyone else.”

You pull back, making him meet your eyes, and his body floods with relief that there’s just as much emotion swimming in your eyes. “I love you too. In love with you. Nothing will ever compare for me either.” 

You both meet in the middle, kissing sweetly. Then his face is back in your neck and your fingers are combing through his hair again. 

He says it at least ten more times that day, if only because he needs you to know how much he means it. You say it back and kiss him every time. 

Jeonghan looks up from his computer when Hana enters his office with a soft knock. She doesn’t look happy to see him, but he isn’t really surprised by that. He’s kind of surprised she hasn’t quit yet, honestly. The downside of dating your receptionist, he guesses. When you break up, things get awkward. 

“I’m heading out,” she says curtly. “Are you staying?”

He bites back a smart ass comment like ‘obviously’, because she has her puffy winter coat on and her bag on her forearm and he’s buried in handwritten notes to type up. Obviously, she’s leaving and he’s staying. But he doesn’t need to give her another reason to hate him. So he nods evenly. “Yeah, I’m going to finish some things up. Go home and have a good night. Be careful.”

There’s a little flash of emotion that she masks almost right away. Their breakup wasn’t bad exactly, but she’d been much more into him than he had been into her. It felt unfair to string her along, so he cut it off as kindly as possible. He didn’t blame her for being bitter and he certainly didn’t blame her for feeling a plethora of emotions bubble up when they did have to interact. He’d be in the wrong profession if that sort of thing bothered him. 

Eventually, Hana nods. “Don’t stay too late. I’ll lock the front door behind me.” And with that, she’s gone. 

He finishes up the stack of patient notes and sighs, turning off the overhead lights and opting for his desk lamp. He grabs a glass and bottle of alcohol from his bottom desk drawer. It’s been one of those days, otherwise he wouldn’t reach for such a vice. He talks to clients all day about bad habits, and tries to not be a hypocrite when he almost lectures them. But the first sip takes the edge off, so he finishes that drink and pours another. He’ll need it because he’s been putting this off. 

The file is buried under a bunch of things on the corner of the desk. He got it weeks ago and has been hesitant to pull it out so it got buried. The tab on the file folder has a date of nearly a decade ago. He takes a deep breath and flips it open. 

He likes a mystery, mostly because he likes to toot his own horn when he’s smart enough to solve said mystery. But this one hasn’t been straight forward, not by a long shot. He needed more information, so he made a few calls. 

He kind of feels like he’s swimming in the deep end when he finally opens the file and picks up the first page inside. Your name is at the top of it, amongst others. 

It really is what you said it was. A not-so-freak accident in bad weather. No driver was deemed at fault because it’s described that even emergency vehicles and tow trucks had a hard time that night getting to the location of the crash. 

Vehicle descriptions are also there. Your black sedan and as well as a tan sedan. That last detail sends a little chill up his spine when he reads it. Occasionally, he doubts your ability, but according to the report, there should have been no way you knew it was a tan car because you were indeed unconscious when emergency personnel responded. But you did under hypnosis. 

He wonders if you’ve seen this report, but he thinks better of it because you’re so avoidant of everything to do with this situation. He thinks about the months that you dodged even addressing it beyond, “I got into a car accident.” He’d had to put in some serious work for you to even tell him how you felt about that accident. 

Objectively, looking at the pictures, he thinks everyone involved could have died. Jeonghan wonders if he should bring any of this up. Your appointment is tomorrow. 

He closes the file, stashing it away in a desk drawer, and finishing his drink. He feels kind of bitter because he’d hoped the contents of the folder would hold all the answers. 

That night, he sleeps restlessly, eventually giving up and opening his laptop. There must be 20 tabs open and he flips between them, well beyond laughing to himself about him, a psychologist, browsing metaphysical sites and articles about psychic abilities, active dreaming, and… soulmates. This whole thing makes him want to scream. 

He resolves to have you try hypnosis again tomorrow. There are dots he can’t connect and he needs you to help him, if only so it saves his sanity. 

[marquisecubey]

I have a new dnd character and I’ve been drawing her so much for the past week uuuuuuhhhhhh anyway here’s sister Frenelle I named her after a type of light fixture

(Congratulations! You have clicked on the Read More and you have unlocked her long ass backstory. Enjoy this thing I sent to my dm, which I can only assume that she must have liked because she gave me a free legendary magic item lmfao. Don’t worry if you’re not up to snuff on Eberron specific lore, I catch you up on the important bits.)

The secret child of an elven nobleman and a human scholar, Frenelle Albright was born in the isolated island nation of Aerenal.

Aerenal was not a kind place to anyone who was not a full-blooded elf, and with very few flesh and blood friends to talk to, her mother's wide collection of books became her dearest companions. From an early age, the doctor saw great intelligence and curiosity in her daughter; the tomes she pulled from her mother’s shelves were leagues above her expected reading level, and by the age of eight, she could even hold entire conversations about complex historical topics.

Humans cannot wander freely across Aerenal with no reason, but it was a vital place when it came to Dr. Albright’s research. The goal of the books she was writing was to help the rest of the world gain a greater understanding of Aereni society, and to hopefully encourage them be less afraid of their open practice of necromancy. But sadly, while it was a fantastic place for a researcher, there were also very few opportunities for her bright young daughter to truly flourish and learn at her own pace. So one day, she had a difficult conversation with her daughter: For the next several years, she would stay on the island, while Frenelle would be moving across the sea to attend a boarding school in Fairhaven on her father’s coin.

Frenelle was terrified at first of being alone. She was already a terribly shy girl by nature, and the new city and climate were overwhelming. For the first month, she hardly spoke to anyone at all, not even to her teachers. However, over the next few months as she properly settled into Fairhaven, she was taken aback by how welcoming the new environment was, especially compared to the coldness of her hometown. People actually wanted to talk to her, and they remembered her name. She had peers that she could talk to about all of the math and magic and history that were bottled up for so long, and when she excelled at a topic, she was rewarded instead of scolded.

The most exciting thing about the academy was that she wasn't even the only half-elf there. Or rather, Khoravar as they called themselves, and as they called her too. The main group of khoravar who took her under their wing were a group of rambunctious kids from House Lyrandar, and it was here that she met her best friend, a boy named Leeko.

Leeko was outgoing, kind, and a bit of a hothead, but he was also passionate and smart in the same way she was. He loved all of the flying machines and massive airships that his family was building, and he talked intensely about how excited he was to pilot them one day, proudly showing off the Dragonmark of the Storm on his right hand. Despite them seeming like total opposites at a glance, the two couldn't have been closer. Every time they met up to try and study for classes, they'd end up talking for hours on end about everything from old magic to new technology. For the first time in her life, Frenelle wasn't alone.

Each year, she would return home to her mother for a couple of weeks, but as she continued to thrive in Fairview, she began to notice that the doctor was growing more isolated and depressed each year back on the island of the dead. Eventually, she was able to convince her mother to leave behind her studies, coming home with her daughter, never to return.

Frenelle quickly rose to become one of the top students in her class, graduating from her boarding school with honours and moving on to study divination magic and history at the University of Wynarn. By then, Leeko had left for the island of Stormhome to train as a pilot, but the two continued to write long, cascading letters to one another every single week.

Her unconventional background gave her a unique perspective when it came to her studies at Wynarn. This was all well and good, until it led to her constantly interrupting professors during lectures to question their biases. This was especially true when it came to the taboo field of necromancy, which she had grown up seeing as a very normal thing in her culture. Eventually, however, she quickly grew wise to the fact that if she wanted to succeed as an academic, she would need to suck up to her less worldly professors every now and again. After all, if she wanted to make her point of view known, she should attempt to hear them out as well.

While working on one of her Master's degrees, Frenelle's work ethic and passion managed to attract the attention of a temple of Aureon in Arcanix, where she was offered a position as a novice. She was hesitant to quit her studies at first, but at the urging of Leeko, who just had gotten a job as an air shuttle pilot at the floating towers, she dropped everything and accepted the massive opportunity.

In fact, the chance to see Leeko again may have been her biggest reason for moving to Arcanix, because it turns out, she had started to develop romantic feelings for him. And, as she would later come to find, he felt the exact same way. She would even learn that he had planned on marrying her, which was no small deal of course. After all, Leeko wasn’t simply just her best friend, he was an heir to House Lyrandar, the Half-Elven dynasty who controlled the rapidly growing industry of air travel across the civilized world, using the Dragonmark of the Storm that ran in their blood.

A proper, pure Dragonmark gives a person tremendous power. Most importantly to those in the twelve Dragonmarked houses, it is a predictable power. However, the same cannot be said of the unpredictable power that results when people from two different houses produce a child. Unpredictability is volatility, and volatility is danger. For the sake and the preservation of society, all marriages and sexual relations between those with different Dragonmarks are strictly prohibited.

Frenelle didn't actually notice her mark for the first few days. She had figured it was some benign skin condition, a small rash around her eye. When it didn't go away, she went to see one of the healers at the temple, who laughed when she said she had no idea what it was. When he realized she was being serious, he explained that she was a foundling, a Dragonmarked person with no previous ties to a house.

He explained that her Dragonmark of Detection was an incredible thing.

With the power of her newly manifested mark, Frenelle became an obvious standout among the rest of the clergy in ways she hadn't even thought were possible. She could look into people's thoughts, see entirely new creatures from beyond the material world. She could protect people from danger.

The royal family of Aundair was in search of a governess for their children, but not just any regular teacher would do. They needed a cleric, a person who could embody the very will of Aureon, the god of magic, knowledge, and the law itself. Their job wouldn't be just to teach, but to physically protect the future of the kingdom. And, who in the world could possibly be better for that than the gifted foundling who just landed on the steps of Arcanix?

Frenelle walked past the cockpit as she boarded the air shuttle. The pilot smiled as he called her name and waved with a childlike excitement. She lowered her head. Words that he’d never get to speak reverberated through her skull. She felt his heart sink like a rock through her own chest. He wanted to marry her.

Vows of celibacy aren't necessarily a requirement for becoming a cleric. However, many choose to take them on in an effort to avoid mortal matters clouding their judgment. It's not as though she had much of a choice in the matter. After all, when the queen who funded your schools and the god who bestowed you these powers give you a call to action, to uphold and protect the law, you listen.

So, as a cleric with a high stakes mission, Frenelle simply chose to take that mission very seriously. And you see, it's actually fine. She's fine. They're fine. It’s fine. He’s fine. They’re fine. They're all fine. She's fine. It’s fine.