#I will do something better later- it's dawn now and I feel a little tired

[chocolatepizzaaz]

INK SANS!!!

Yeah? Okay then

Doodle of Ink, I hope you like it, buddy

[i2sunric]

MON AMOUR (p.sh)

pairing: husband!sunghoon x reader (f)

summary: after a tiring day spent following your twin children and doing the chores, what could be better than letting your husband take care of you?

warnings: fluff & smut. unprotected sex (don’t be silly, wrap your willy), they have a daughter and a son, creampie, p in v, dirty talk, meandom!hoon, breeding kink, mentions of pregnancy, making out, kissing, cuddling. lmk if more. NOT PROOFREAD.

wc: 3.1k

published: 20th May 2024

taglist: (permanent) @stolasisyourparent @jaeyunsbimbo @heelvsted @jwnghyuns @seunghancore @bangtancultsposts (one shot) @slut4hee @love13tter @deobitifull @xiaoderrrr @cha0thicpisces @minjaexvz @crimnalseung @skylaly @ensaz008

a/n: based on this ask from anon. hope you don’t mind i changed it a little bit <3 i just love imagining how enha would call their kids (like, in heeseung’s fic, jia 😭😭)

“I want the pink toothbrush!” Your daughter shouted with her high pitched voice, pointing at the toothbrush of the respective colour.

“Alright.” You smiled and handed it to her, “Here you go, Haneul.” 

“And you?” You looked at Haneul’s twin brother, smiling ever so sweetly “I want green.” Yohan answered, his chubby finger pointing at the toothbrush. 

You removed it from the wrapping and handed it to him “Now, brush your teeth, I want them all clean, alright?” 

Both of them nodded and you started filling in the laundry, programming it to function for that night. Spring coming with its perfect weather for the twins to play outside, it also meant your laundry had to work overtime with the amount of mud they get on their clothes.

Turning around, you noticed them arguing over the toothpaste. You shook your head and took it out of Haneul’s hand before she could make a mess and put a little bit on it on both of their toothbrushes. 

Patrolling so that they wouldn’t argue over something silly again, you helped them in their pyjamas and tugged their covers.

With one kiss on each of their foreheads, you whispered “Good night.” And exited their room, hoping none of them woke up for the whole night.

You rested your back against the door, rubbing your temples with a soft sigh. You loved the twins, you had never wished for something as wonderful as them— But it was draining to follow them the whole day and also do all the chores. 

You tried your best not to let it show, Sunghoon surely had it worse, waking up at dawn and coming back later than sunset. It must be so exhausting you didn’t have the heart to complain about your own tiredness.

You walked to the bedroom, opening the door just to widen your eyes when you saw Sunghoon’s figure, removing his blazer meaning he had just come home. 

You smiled “Hey.” You said, closing the door behind your back. 

He raises his eyebrows at the sight of you. “Hey pretty,” Sunghoon murmured, his eyes trailing along the length of your body.

He threw his jacket on the edge of the chair sitting over by his desk, his eyes not leaving you for a moment.

“You’re back.” You stated, fighting the urge not to add a ‘finally’ and walked towards him, taking the jacket to fold it better.

He watched as your fingers nimbly folded the jacket, a soft smile appearing on his tired face. 

Sunghoon felt the stress of the day slowly disappear from him when he looked at you. He reached out and took the jacket from your hand, setting it down before pulling you close to him.

“I couldn't stay away from you three any longer.” He mumbled, pressing a soft kiss upon your lips.

You wrapped your arms around his neck, tilting your head “They kept asking about you.” 

A small laugh escaped his lips and he tightened his arms around your waist in return, “Did they really?” It was rhetorical since he already knew the answer. 

He hadn’t been home early enough to see them for days due to his work and he couldn’t help but feel guilty at the fact. Sunghoon knew that he needed to spend more time at home, with you and his little daughter and son.

You hummed, resting your head on his chest with a small sigh. You had missed the way your bodies mended together, just so perfect for each other.

His warm embrace always made your day better, no batter what hardship you had encountered— He just knew what made you happy.

Noticing that you weren’t saying much as usual, where you would tell him all the things that happened through the day, Sunghoon gently cupped the back of your head, his fingers brushing your hair out of your face.

“You ok, love?” He asked softly, tilting your head up so he could look at you, his eyes scanning your face to search for any sign of discomfort.

“I’m sorry,” You shook your head “I’m just tired.” You gave him a small smile, not wanting to worry him much. 

He nodded, understanding that you were going through a lot as well, “Don’t apologise,” Sunghoon mumbled, before pressing a gentle kiss on your forehead.

“I think we could both benefit from being in bed right now,” He teased lightly, a smirk appearing on his lips “You worked so hard, even ironed all my blazers.”

“Yeah but you take a shower first.” You pointed a threatening finger in his chest “I just changed the sheets.” 

Sunghoon chuckled lowly, “Then come join me,” He winked, gently squeezing your hip as he stepped back towards the bathroom, not letting you take a moment to respond that he was dragging you with him. 

“Hoon…” You murmured, looking back anxiously, despite the bathroom being private, they still might hear you “We need to be quiet.” 

Sunghoon looked over at you with a cocky smile, unbuttoning his shirt slowly “You know I’ll try my hardest.”

You narrowed your eyes “You never do.” 

He smirked back at you as he dropped his shirt to the floor, “You love it though,” He quipped teasingly, watching you as you stood there, watching him unabashedly.

You crossed your arms “The twins might hear us, I’m not sure they’re asleep yet.” 

“I’m sure they are.” He commented, stepping closer to you and pulling you flush to him once again.

“Besides, it’s you who needs to keep quiet, baby.” He mumbled softly as he leaned down to press a trail of kisses along the side of your neck.

You let out a contented sigh, tilting your head back to give him more access.

His hands slipped under the shirt you were wearing, his fingers gliding over the bare skin of your stomach.

Sunghoon pushed you against the counter, his teeth nibbling your collarbone, leaving small, red marks.

His hands squeezing your hips gently to keep you in place.

He was desperate to have you close again after being so busy for days and his body was missing you.

You let your hands wander all over his bare chest, feeling his shaped muscles. The feeling of your hands all over him made him eager and desperate to touch you as well. 

He quickly grabbed the hem of your shirt, bringing it over your head before tossing it to the side. 

Sunghoon let out a small groan when he noticed you weren’t wearing any bra. His hands found your breasts right away, groping them.

You attached your lips to him and as the kiss deepened, his hands started trailing down to your hips once again, his fingers digging into the flesh. 

Sunghoon pulled you even closer, moaning lowly into the kiss as he grinded against you, his desire for friction evident against your body.

You let out a shaky breath and trailed your hand down to palm his clothed bulge. 

His breath hitched and his forehead rested against yours, looking into your eyes as you palmed him. 

His lust-filled gaze locked with your own and his hand moved to grab yours, gently pulling it away.

Sunghoon had a smirk on his lips as he brought your hand to his mouth, pressing a gentle kiss on the inside of your wrist. “Not yet, love.”

You looked at him puzzled “Why not?”

“I want to take my time with you tonight,” Sunghoon spoke gently, his eyes burning into yours. 

One of his hands lifted to move strands of your hair and place it behind your ear. “Just because I haven't been home much doesn’t mean I’ve lost any of my skills. Just relax.” He reassured you, wiggling his thick brows.

“Yeah?” You chuckled “How about you show me?”

Sunghoon’s lips stretched up into a mischievous smirk, pulling the elastic from your hair and letting your hair fall down your shoulders.

He pushed his knee up between your legs, his smirk widening at the small gasp he managed to pry from your lips ”That's exactly what I plan on doing,” He replied.

His knee rubbed up against your heat, applying light pressure every now and then just to tease you. He could feel how hot and desperate you were becoming.

When you felt something sharp on your shoulder, you gasped “Sunghoon… No marks.”

He grinned against your skin, “But you love it when I mark you,” He purred into your ear. 

You lightly hit his shoulder “Still, it’s difficult to hide them.”

Sunghoonleaned closer so his lips hovered over yours, the two of you sharing the same breath and exhales.

”I don't want you to hide them, love,” His eyes burning with desire as he looked down at your body. “I want you to wear my marks with pride.”

You nagged “How will I explain to the twins where these marks come from?”

A low chuckle left his lips as he let his head drop down to your shoulder, his nose rubbing against your skin. 

“They’re too young to know,” He mumbled against your neck, “And these are for my eyes only anyways.”

You rolled your eyes at his shameless he was “You’re incredible.”

Sunghoon’s other hand moved to hold your chin gently so you’d look at him, his dark eyes boring into yours.

His leg moved up again, pressing harder and rubbing up against the sensitive spot he knew you’d moan at. 

“Hoon…” You murmured, unable to grind your hips on his thigh with the way he was holding you.

 “Do you know how much I missed this?” He breathed out, his fingers gently caressing your cheek before pulling your face closer to his, his mouth hovering just over yours.

“As much as I did.” You replied and made your lips crash back together, your tongues dancing the ballad of love.

“Please..” You pleaded, feeling your body burn in desire “Sunghoon, please.” 

“Please what, pretty?” Sunghoon asked mockingly, knowing exactly what it was that you wanted, but not giving it to you just yet.

“Stop teasing.” You said desperately “Stop teasing you say?” He grinned, “And just give you what you want?” He murmured before pressing a gentle kiss on the shell of your ear.

“Not tonight, baby. Tonight I want you to take what you’re given and you’ll be grateful for everything I do to you.”

Your body shuddered at his words, just the thought of finally being able to be his all over again made slick pool your panties. You nodded obediently, his husky tone just fuelling your desire.

 “Good girl,” Sunghoon mumbled softly, his hand reaching out to gently pull you forward.

“C'mon, you deserve to unwind after dealing with our babies all by yourself,” He reassured with a warm smile, leading you towards the bedroom.

You walked beside him and laid down on the bed, all bare except for the shorts you were still wearing. You looked up at him with utter lust, your nipples hardening at the sight of his huge bulge poking through his working pants. 

Sunghoon noticed it and massaged your breasts, licking his bottom lip.

Your breath was heavy, your eyes piercing through his body and your pussy aching for his cock.

“I need you.” You whispered “Yeah? Need me that bad?” You nodded, rubbing your thighs together.

Such a sight made his cock twitch in his pants, the fabric becoming more and more tight “Can’t wait anymore, mh?” He said and reached for your pants.

“Lift your hips for me.” He said and you complied, helping him remove them. 

Sunghoon held his body above you, his hands on either side of your head to prevent himself from crushing you. 

His tongue quickly slipped into your mouth once again as he relished in the taste he’d missed so badly.

“I’m going to fuck you,” He kissed your lips, unzipping his pants “I’m going to fuck you so good, put another baby in you.”

He groaned at the memory of your swollen belly, carrying not one but two of his children. The idea of having a third one went straight to his cock.

“Knock me up.” You said, blissful euphoria clouding your senses.

Sunghoon pulled down his boxers and pants, his cock sprung free, angry and pulsating. 

Your hand went down to pump it, wanting to provide him some kind of relief.

He let out a moan, bucking his hips to fuck your fist “Do you want me to prep you?” He asked. 

“No, just fuck me.” You said, impatiently, “Make me yours.”

You didn’t need to say more, Sunghoon pulled your hand away to align himself to your entrance after slipping your panties to the side and then pushed his thick tip inside of you. 

“So wet already.” You moaned out at the stretch, so sweet and painful at the same time until he pushed all of him inside of you, his tip kissing your cervix.

“You feel so good, baby,” He mumbled quietly, his body desperate for more of the feeling of you wrapped around him. 

Sunghoon’s hands gripped your hips as he slowly began to roll his own against your body, setting a slow rhythm for both of you.

You rolled your eyes back, mouth agape as you felt him pull out just to push himself right back into you.

“S-shit baby.” He groaned as he picked up pace “Squeezing my cock so tight.” 

You grasped his forearms, his muscles under your palms “Fuck— Yes.” You moaned, a little too loudly.

“Shh,” He shushed by crashing his lips on your, swallowing your moans “You don’t want Haneul and Yohan to hear you, do you?” 

You shook your head, looking at him through half-lidded eyes. 

Your own hand went down to rub small circles on your clit, bringing yourself even more pleasure.

Sunghoon craved you, your body, your mind, your whole being. He wrapped his hand around your throat and pushed himself deeper, hitting spots you didn’t even know existed. 

“My wife.” He grunted “My gorgeous wife.” 

You hummed, hips bucking up to meet his thrusts “I missed you so much.” You breathed out. 

Sunghoon nodded in understanding, claiming your lips once again “I missed you too, baby.” 

Sunghoon squeezed your nipples, making you moan “I’ll take tomorrow off, fuck the company, just want be with my family.” He snapped, his hips moving more harshly against yours.

You didn’t have the mind to reply to his rumbling, his pace along with the feeling of him was enough to make the knot in your stomach tighten. 

You clenched around him, making him curse under his breath “How come you’re still so tight?” He scoffed mockingly “Pushed out two babies and you feel tighter than before— Shit!” Sunghoon bit down his bottom lip to muffle his moans.

You wrapped your arms around his neck, bringing him more down to you “Hoon, I’m gonna cum.” You warned.

“I know, pretty,” Sunghoon panted heavily between moans, his pace even faster as he chased his own end. “Cum for me, yeah?” He mumbled, “Wanna feel you come undone for me.”

You tried to hold it back, wanting the moment and the pleasure your husband brought you to last forever— But it had been a while since you two shared an intimate moment and your body wasn’t used to it as much anymore. 

With one particular deep thrust, you came with a muffled moan, your body squirming and back arched. 

Watching your orgasm sent him over the edge and he came soon after, “Fuck, Fuck.” Groaning heavily as he felt your walls clenching around him. 

He emptied his load inside you, coating your insides with his cum “Take my cum, angel.” Sunghoon twitched inside you “Take it all, good girl.”

As you both tried to come down from your high, he laid on top of you, not caring that he was probably crashing your body. You didn’t care as well when all you wanted was for him to stay close.

One of your hands went to brush his bangs out of his sweaty forehead and you pressed a small kiss on his thick brow. 

Sunghoon chuckled, the aftercare sessions always full of giggle and unspoken affection..

“Will you seriously take tomorrow off?” You asked quietly after a while, unsure whether he was being serious or if he was just too in the moment. 

He chuckled, caressing your cheek with his thumb “I’m the CEO, I decide what I want.” He said proudly. 

You smiled widely, a warm sensation spreading inside your chest “Really?” 

“Really.” He promised, brushing his thumb against your bottom lip “We’ll make a big surprise to the twins and after we take them to kindergarten….” He bucked his hips, his cock still inside your warm pussy, none of you wanting to disconnect your bodies.

He leaned down to whisper inside your ear “I’m going to have you all for myself, fuck you full of my cum until you can’t no more.” 

You kissed him, biting his bottom lip harshly “I’m down.” Sunghoon moaned, pulling you into another make out session, your bodies moving at a slow rhythm.

After cleaning up, you laid down side by side, his big body engulfing yours, warm arms protectively around your waist.

You missed all of it, the smell of his cologne, the warm feeling of the sheets around both your bodies, his soothing presence.

Sunghoon traced small patterns on your back “Stop drawing dicks.” You nagged, chuckling.

He smiled and pressed a featherlight kiss on your head “I’m so lucky to have you.” He took your hand in his, both your rings tingling “And I never tell you enough how grateful I am for our babies.”

You snuggled closer to his chest “I’m so lucky to have you too— I wouldn’t have made it alone.”

“I love you so much.” Sunghoon whispered, his eyes slowly closing, exhaustion overtaking him “I love you more.” You murmured back.

[imnotaacat]

I Can Not Do It Without You.

husband!Anthony x fem reader wife.

— Summary: You have been married to Anthony for a year, and you are about to give birth to your first baby. However, after overhearing a conversation between his younger brothers, Benedict and Colin, it makes you doubt whether your marriage is prosperous and honest, which leads to an early and complicated birth.

— Warnings: Angst, mentions of death, fluff at the end, no use of Y/n, mentions of deception. (I think that's all)

A/n: English is not my native language, sorry if something is written wrong, I hope everything can be understood. :)

“It’s funny that she thinks Anthony is still in love with her.” You heard Colin’s voice behind the door, followed by Benedict’s laughter.

That was enough for you to ask the footman accompanying you to prepare the carriage, you would return home. Since a few weeks ago you suspected that Anthony was cheating on you, the last few weeks he began to go out more often with his younger brothers, and of course, there was nothing wrong with it, but it happened every night and he always returned at dawn. And you, who were about to give birth, only wanted to feel protected, cared for by him, but you felt the opposite, he simply left, leaving you completely alone.

“My dear, won’t you stay for dinner with us?” Someone asked behind you, it was your mother-in-law, Violet. “Oh, I really appreciate it, you must excuse me, but I would like to have dinner with my husband.” Violet smiled. “Don’t worry dear, it’s okay, give him my regards.” You nodded and walked to your carriage, the footman helped you get in.

Once home, you entered and began to climb the stairs, as fast as your belly allowed you.

“Honey, you're back, I was waiting for you for dinner.” Your beloved husband's voice said with his beautiful smile at the bottom of the stairs. Something inside your chest stirred. You smiled.

“Oh dear husband, I apologize, but I've already had dinner with your mother and brothers.” You said, he smiled, he loved the way you got along with his family, he couldn't have chosen a better wife. I apologize for not accompanying you, but I feel very tired. — He nodded again.

“Don't worry, rest, I'll be with you in a few moments.” You nodded. You finished climbing the stairs that led to the room you shared, you asked your maid for some help to undress. Once you were ready, you got into the sheets of your bed, but you couldn't even close your eyes. Thirty minutes later you heard your husband's footsteps coming up the stairs, you settled down with your back to the door and closed your eyes pretending to be asleep. You listened to his footsteps and movements around the room, a few minutes later you felt the mattress sink and then the warmth of his body, he placed his hand on your belly, kissed your temple, and got ready to sleep.

About an hour later, he was finally fast asleep, you got out of your bed and left the room making as little noise as possible, you went down the stairs and headed towards his study, you placed the candle you were carrying on his desk and you got ready to look for something, something that would help you, something that would give you a clue about something. And as the saying goes, “Curiosity killed the cat.” In one of the drawers of his desk, you found several newspapers. As you skimmed through them you noticed something. They all had an ad for an opera concert and all of them had one name repeated: “Sienna Rosso.” You didn’t know whether to be happy for having found what you were looking for or to cry for what you had found. The second to last ad was dated two days ago, the last time Anthony had gone out, and the last ad was dated two days from now. You put everything back the way it was, closed the door to the study, and headed back to your room. To your relief, Anthony was still fast asleep.

“Good morning,” you said, announcing your entrance to the dining room. Anthony smiled. “Good morning, dear. Did you rest?” He asked. You nodded, at that moment the maids came in with their breakfast trays, so they began to eat, leaving a comfortable silence in between. — You know… yesterday I saw an announcement, about an opera concert— You spoke breaking the silence and lifting your face to look at him, he already did. — I heard that the girl is very good, I think her name is Sienna… yes Sienna Rosso— Anthony coughed. — And well, I would like to find out for myself, and why not with my dear husband? The concert is in two days, so, could we go? — You asked with a nice smile, Anthony quickly nodded.

“Sure, why not, I have a little work, but I will do it in these two days, so we can go out.” You nodded with a smile.

During those days when the long-awaited night arrived, Anthony, no matter how much he wanted to concentrate on his work, couldn't do it. The only thing he had in mind was your request, but rather, the way you asked for it, your look when you asked him, during their first year of marriage, he had noticed that whenever you asked him for something there was a special sparkle in your eyes, however, that morning he couldn't see it, instead there was something else, your gaze had something dark in it.

When the agreed time and day arrived, you went down the stairs while he went up, you were wearing a Bridgerton blue dress, white gloves, and a pretty pearl necklace, he praised how pretty you looked, he asked you for a moment so he could get ready and go out with you.

Once at the theater, you asked to sit up front, and he accepted without arguing anything, minutes later the concert started, and boy was the girl good, she was wonderful, out of the corner of your eye you noticed that throughout the act Anthony looked at the stage a couple of times, most of the time he saw you, the floor and the ceiling, and of course, anyone would say it was romantic, but you knew it was guilt.

Once the concert was over you told Anthony that you needed to go to the bathroom, he nodded and joined another group of men who greeted him happily.

“Miss Sienna, someone is waiting for you in your dressing room.” A voice said behind the girl as she walked off the stage, she smiled and thanked him with a nod. Finally, Anthony had returned. However, he froze when he saw a female silhouette in his dressing room, you were with your back to her. You were looking at each of her outfits with a smile, and from time to time you touched the fabrics with your hands what caught her attention the most was your belly, you could give birth at any moment, even now.

“Were you hoping to see the Viscount?” You asked still with your back turned, you only heard a low “Excuse me?” before turning to look at her. — I asked if you were hoping to see Anthony. — You asked again, Sienna was surprised that you called him by his name, but it was logical, you were his wife. Seeing that she had no answer you sighed and spoke again. — I know he has come to see you frequently, so I wanted to meet the woman who fucks my husband. — You said with a forced smile on your lips. Sienna smiled back, she didn't expect the Viscount's wife to be like this, she imagined a silly girl, but no, you were different, you were direct. At that moment something occurred to her, something that would make Anthony come back to her again.

“Yeah well, Anthony comes here often, he even comes with his brothers.” He said with a smile. You just nodded, but anger was growing inside you, how could she call him by his first name? — You know, it's nice that he comes to see me at my concerts but to attend with his wife... it's very bold.” She said with a smile.

“Sienna... I was the one who suggested he come, he came simply because I asked him to accompany me, if he had wanted... or rather... been able to, he would have stayed in his studio.” You saw how Sienna's face fell.

Seriously Anthony had stopped loving her? Just like that? After you two got married he paid you one last visit, where he made it clear that you would never have another meeting. In exchange for various favors, she was able to arrange for several Lords and Dukes to meet Anthony at the theater or places where she would perform. She knew that once they were alone, Anthony would come back to her. Her surprise came when he didn't even look at her, or even notice her presence, and she was accompanied by her brothers. Every time she passed by his place, she heard how wonderful his wife was and how much he was in love with her.

“Listen to me-“ She began to speak, calling you by your name, but you interrupted her.

“For you, I am Lady Bridgerton,” you said. Anthony heard it and went to the place where your voice came from. He noticed that you hadn't returned from the bathroom, so he decided to make sure everything was okay. He followed your voice, down that path that he had walked so many times a few years ago. — You can fuck Anthony as many times as you want, it's fine, but listen to me, I'll be the only one that Anthony will present as his wife, I'll be the one who will have his children, his heir, my children will carry his blood, my children and I will be the ones who will wait for him at night to have dinner, I'll be the one who will see him walking arm in arm through the parks, while you... you will simply meet him at night, when everyone is already home, you will stay in the dark, hiding, making sure that no one can see you. — Sienna was definitely speechless, after hearing everything you had said, you were right, he would never leave you for her. Anthony, who had heard everything while walking towards you, was proud to hear what you had said, you didn't even raise your voice, much less attack her to leave her speechless.

“Whatever you say Anthony loves me-“ Once again she was interrupted, this time by Anthony's voice.

“For you, I am Lord Bridgerton, I will never allow you to call me by my name again, our relationship ended a long time ago, Miss Rosso, and that day I made it very clear to you that I would never return to you again.” You smiled at the look on Sienna’s face in front of your husband’s back. — If you will excuse us, the Viscountess and I must retire, good night, Miss Rosso. — He said, giving you his arm so that you could walk with him, and said goodbye to the friends who were still there.

Anthony helped you get into the carriage and once inside silence reigned between you, you were sitting face to face, so Anthony could see how your eyes began to get brighter and tears began to appear in your eyes. He felt guilty, guilty because he was the reason for those tears.

“Honey I-” He started to speak but you interrupted him. “I don’t want to hear anything Anthony.” He nodded. Once at home he helped you get out of the carriage and both of you climbed the stairs that led to his room.

“Marie, please tidy my room, I’ll be staying there tonight.” Your maid nodded and took from both of your rooms the things she would use at that moment and the next day to get ready, you heard a sigh from Anthony, and then his footsteps moving away towards the master bedroom, so you did the same, but in the opposite direction, before reaching your room you felt a pang in your lower belly, you grabbed the wall, Anthony turned and walked towards you when he heard your moan. “I’m fine” You told him when you heard his strides towards you, he stopped and nodded, but as far as he could see after you closed the door, he noticed that you were holding on to the wall as you walked.

Anthony wanted to talk to you, he wanted to tell you that it was all a misunderstanding, his affair with Sienna had ended a long time ago, even long before the two of you got married. Unable to fall asleep, he went down to his study and made himself a drink, then sat down at his desk hoping to be able to concentrate a little and even distract himself from what was going on with his work. He didn't even notice when he fell asleep at his desk.

“Mr. Bridgerton! Mr. Bridgerton please wake up.” When he opened his eyes he felt disoriented. “Mr. Bridgerton” The woman made a small bow. “Lady Bridgerton has gone into labor, but she is in very bad shape,” the maid said just as she heard a scream coming from the upper part of the house. — We have already sent for your mother, the Duke, and the Duchess, the young lady asked for it, and the doctor and the midwife are already with the lady. — The girl spoke as she followed Anthony up the stairs, another scream came from your room, with long strides he arrived at your room, and he saw you there, screaming and writhing in pain, and then he was nineteen again, panic began to bloom in him.

“Lord Bridgerton, the baby is not in position, I need to know what to do, save the baby, or save your wife.” Another scream from you was heard. “I told you to save my son.” You screamed with difficulty. — The decision must be made by the lord. — The doctor spoke. And one more scream was heard.

“Save them both,” Anthony spoke. “Sir, we will try, but-” Anthony interrupted him. “I told you to save my wife and my son,” Anthony screamed. — Yes sir, we will do our best.” And once again the doctor entered your room. Tears began to sting his eyes, just at that moment the doors of his house opened, it was Simon, his mother, and his brothers.

“Simon, Colin, and Benedict stay with Anthony, Daphne comes with me” Violet said as everyone went up the stairs. “Everything will be okay dear, I promise,” Violet said before entering your room with Daphne. The screams were getting louder, and his brothers didn't know what to do, or how to comfort him, Simon was already a father, of course, but none of Daphne's births had been like that, they didn't know what to do.

“Anthony, everything will be okay, your wife is a strong woman” Benedict spoke. There was silence. “It's my fault.” Anthony spoke. “She found out about Sienna, she noticed that I was leaving at night and she thinks I've cheated on her.”

“But it’s not like that, you ended your relationship with that woman, we have been with you so that you could avoid this.” Colin spoke, and Anthony nodded. “And I thank you, I should have told you what was going on” Anthony said, his head down. “I don’t know how you found out, but two days ago she asked me to go to the concert tonight, she had an argument with Sienna, and then when we got back home, she asked to have her bedroom fixed, she complained of pain, I should have insisted that she sleep in our bedroom, I should have stayed awake to take care of her.” Anthony spoke. Your screams still hadn’t stopped, they could hear the voices of the midwife, her mother, and Daphne asking you to push.

Anthony looked at his watch, it was almost five in the morning, and the fear he felt was from another world, he didn’t know what was going on in there, he only heard your screams. The four men were desperate, they knew there were only two options. Finally, the cry of a baby, their baby was heard behind the door, the four men looked at each other, then looked at the door, Daphne came out with the baby in her arms wrapped in a blanket. “He’s a cute little boy” she said with a smile, putting the baby in Anthony’s arms, he smiled. “Daphne, how is she?” Simon asked, Daphne just lowered her head.

“Daphne, how is my wife?” Anthony asked. “She is not well Anthony, she lost a lot of blood, she has a high fever, and the doctor does not know if she will survive.” Anthony sighed, he was happy for the birth of his son of course, but at the same time the love of his life was between life and death, he could not do it without her.

“My lady, stay with me, do not close your eyes.” the voices of the maids were heard, alarming everyone who was outside. “She cannot die” Anthony said finally letting the tears come out, hugging his little son.

It had been a week since you had given birth, and the fever and bleeding had stopped, however, you were still weak, you still had no strength, and you spent your time in your room. Violet and Daphne had asked to stay home with you, to help you and Anthony.

“Anthony dear,” Violet spoke entering her son's bedroom, Anthony was playing with Edmund, they had agreed to name him in honor of his father if they had a boy. “You should talk to your wife, I don't know what's wrong Anthony, but it's like she's rejecting her son.” Violet paused. — The only moment she is with him is when she breastfeeds her son, that's not good, you're doing an excellent job as a father, but this baby also needs his mother. — Anthony nodded, left his little one in the bassinet next to his bed, and called a maid to keep an eye on the baby. Leaving with his mother he went to your room, opened the door, and could see you, after a long time, you were looking out the window with your back to him, you had your hair down, a silk robe, you looked very beautiful.

“Love…” Anthony said. There was a pause, he expected you to say something or at least turn to look at him, but it wasn't like that, you continued looking at the window. “Since we met I noticed your desire to be a mother… But now that we have our son, you… you reject him.” Anthony doubted if he was using the right words, he didn't want to be hard on you, so you lowered your gaze to your lap. “What's wrong? You know you can tell me anything.” There was a long silence for his liking, or rather, for the moment you were in.

“I don't want him to get used to me.” You spoke and finally turning to look at him, Anthony looked at you confused. “I’m dying Anthony, just look at me.” And yes, you looked a little haggard, you had lost a little weight, but nothing that a little food couldn’t fix. “Besides…” You paused. “I’m scared Anthony, I’m scared of being just like my mother.” You finally burst into tears, Anthony was a little surprised, you had known each other for a little over a year and a half, and he had never seen you cry like this, or rather he had never seen you cry, it was a little difficult for you to show your emotions one hundred percent. Because of how you grew up, your parents never showed any kind of love between them, nor to you or your siblings, you and your siblings were raised for society, with no laughter or exaggerated emotions, just enough, if you wanted to cry or express your emotions you had to be completely alone, no one could see you like this or they would call you exaggerated. Anthony took a few steps to be closer to you and wrapped you in his arms. “You’re not dying, sweetheart… you’re not a bad mother either… Do you think I don’t notice how you play with Gregory or Hyacinth? Or how do you interact with Augui?” Anthony spoke, you smiled remembering how good it felt to play or spend time with them. Anthony pulled you away from his chest so you could look into each other’s eyes, he cupped your face in his hands, and with his thumbs, he wiped your tears away. “You’re nothing like your mother… but if you keep acting that way… rejecting your son, you’ll be just like her.” You nodded and hugged him again, he also hugged you back, and kissed the top of your head, both of you stayed in that position for a few minutes.

“I’m sorry.” You said, separating from the hug. — Not just for this… also for what happened a few days ago at the theater, I shouldn’t have acted that way. — Anthony shook his head.

“The one who should apologize is me.” He said take your hands. — I wasn’t honest with you, I should have told you what was going on because I went out every night… somehow that woman made all the business be handled in those places, I asked Colin and Benedict to accompany me, just to avoid this, but I should have told you too. — You noticed the sincerity in his words and the regret in his eyes.

“You should have told me, of course, but I acted recklessly, I should have talked to you before, can you imagine the scandal it would have been if someone else had heard? Can you imagine if it had been Wistledown?” Anthony laughed.

“But I must admit, you acted better than I would have acted if I had been in your place.” They both laughed. “But you know… I’m a little curious to know how you knew?” Anthony asked.

“Well… I heard your brothers saying it was funny that she thought you were still in love… and well, you know what happened.” Anthony laughed. “Instead of helping me, they sink my head into the mud.” There was a silence between you. “It’s nice to be with you again,” Anthony said. — But I think you should meet someone… Give me a moment. — Anthony left the room, and a few seconds later he entered the room again, but this time with the baby in his arms, you smiled when you saw him, the tender image of your husband with your baby would be an image that would stay in your mind and heart for a lifetime.

Anthony walked over to you, pulling you close and helping you carry your baby. You finally allowed yourself to see your baby's face, you knew it was too soon to say it, but he was a lot like Anthony.

“Hey baby, you look so cute today.” You said the little baby let out a small laugh. Both you and Anthony smiled at it. You definitely scolded yourself for depriving yourself of this thing you had always wanted.

Anthony guided you to the bed so you could get some rest, despite everything, he knew you were still a little weak, Anthony placed himself right next to you so you could lean on him, and you stayed like that, he held you close, while you held your little baby close.

“You are the best thing that has ever happened to me” — Anthony said while smiling at you.

You two definitely, unexpectedly changed each other's lives. You both knew that nothing and no one could separate you or hurt you after this day.

I would also like you to give advice or recommendations. I hope it's not too long or boring. I would appreciate your comments. 💗

[kizxxxxz]

Oops !

pairing ⸺ jealous!sprout x fem!reader summary ⸺ your best friend isn't too happy about the new friend you've made. tags ⸺ jealousy, semi-public, caught, rough sex, groping, light bondage, making out, marking, light choking, scratching, orgasm denial, biting, loud, hair pulling. word count ⸺ 1,111 words 5,925 characters notes ⸺ no good reason for writing this help me😍

--- Let's just say this started a few weeks ago. You had been helping Rodger carry around paperwork, manage his cases and what not - you'd say you were just helping a friend. Maybe every now and then Rodger let out a little flirty comment or two and you flirted back but it was friendly and you both knew the other meant nothing of it, until Sprout found out and maybe even witnessed one of the few times these interactions happened.. His reaction? Not the best.

Before that though, you had been yet again assisting Rodger in his usual duties and gosh was it tiring. He glanced over at you and scoffed out a laugh at how sweaty and tired you looked yet you had only been helping for 20 minutes.

"Hah, you alright?" You looked up with a slight shock before laughing as well and nodding.

"Never been better…" You finally got to his office and put the stack of papers down before you turned to him as he left to get the last stack, informing you it may take a minute since he had to sort them first but to wait for him so they could catch up later, you agreed and stayed.

You looked at the marked papers in curiosity before you heard footsteps behind you. A swift turn to check who it was and your panic was quickly soothed at the sight of your good friend, Sprout. Though maybe he wasn't as delighted to see you as you were him.

"Having fun?" He crossed his arms and looked you up and down as if you were guilty and the way he looked at you made you feel guilty alright..

"I guess? He's just making me carry papers for him so maybe not.." His gaze sharpened but he smirked right after as if he had an idea. Slow steps towards you trapped you between him and the desk behind you which you were now gripping with anticipation. What was he doing? No idea, don't ask me! The close proximity between you two was unbearable for you only as it seemed to not affect him at all and you thought you were maybe overreacting, he was your friend after all! Why were you getting hot all of a sudden..?

"Would you wanna go out for some tea later?" He mocked and for a split second you were confused before it settled in that you had asked Rodger that same question just 10 minutes ago and you flushed, especially when he said it like that.

"As friends? Why does it matter to you anyway..?" That seemed to anger him a bit, unbeknownst to you he had liked you for longer than he can even recall and the fact that you spend all your time flirting with Rodger openly with him instead of picking up on the millions of hints he drops for you everyday very obviously pissed him off.

"You never ask me to go out with you for tea." He challenged and you furrowed your brows in confusion. You hung out with him everyday and you wanted to say this but angering him further from now would've dug you an early grave - something you didn't want.

You looked away with a half-guilty expression and felt yourself get even hotter as it dawned on you what kind of position you were in against him, basically at his mercy. Thoughts bubbled up in your head overwhelmingly until you felt a hand at your waist and when you looked up your surprised eyes met his dark and lust-coloured ones, only turning you on more.

He slips off his scarf and you stare at his now bare neck in curiosity before he moved his hands behind you and then you felt your hands being tied, your thighs shook at the feeling of the thick material binding your hands. Speaking of thighs, he snuck his hands under yours and lifted them to wrap around his waist and positioned you at the end of the desk comfortably.

Taking off whatever you had on he finally got his hands on your neck, lightly squeezing which shook you to your core and made you quiver lightly beneath him - something he picked up on and smiled. His free hand trailed to your chest and grabbed at it shamelessly, staring at the flesh sitting so neatly in his hands as if it was made for only him to hold. His lips find your shoulder, then your neck and soon enough he's at your jaw and kissing, biting leaving any kind of mark to show that he was on you and you were all his.

Unfortunately for him he had to release your chest and instead had to forcefully pull you back by your hair, bunching it up mercilessly and pulling it back so he had more access to your neck which was also beginning to become obviously marked. You were surprised but smiled a bit and let out a noise of approval as he battered your neck with his soft lips. Shifted his grip to your thighs which were actively tightening around him and spread them open forcefully to your almost shameful wetness. He reaches down with two fingers and spreads your folds playfully as you stare in embarrassment. A thumb is pressed against your clit, smooth motion stimulating you nicely, throwing your head back further and accidentally making you fall back further onto the desk.

"Careful.." He laughs at your desperation and pulls himself out of his pants, already hard and standing tall before he lightly positions his length on your clit and admiring how much smaller you were - to be fair he was taller than most toons at GardenView but he only had eyes for you anyway so nobody else mattered.

You laughed too and sat up before he pushed into you, you instantly pressed your chest against his but ended up arching your back at the unfamiliar feeling. His thickness opening your walls without a second though or any sign of hesitation and you realized this wasn't just a last second decision but that he really meant this. After a while of adjustment he finally begins to move and you cant help but be loud, his solution for this? Untying your hands and instead tying it around your mouth and securing it at the back. He pushed you back onto the desk so you laid against it with your thighs still squeezing around him, thrusting in a slow motion as he took both of your wrists and held them loosely in his one hand - putting it up above your head to have you splayed out on the desk.

When he picked up his pace you almost drooled and felt yourself getting closer and closer to spilling over the edge. Slightly louder moans slipped past you and you rolled your eyes back, ready for an orgasm that - wasn't coming.

He stopped.

You looked at him and he was just smirking at you, you panicked and sat up a bit. He pulled out and sat you up against his chest again, you were confused and drowsy from the orgasm that had been denied when you least expected it..

"You look disappointed. You think you deserved an orgasm after flirting with him and not me?" He glared and you felt yourself crying a bit, in which he saw and his gaze softened only for him to let out a soft and calm laugh that contrasted his statement.

"I love you.." You muffled through the wet thick fabric sitting in your mouth and preventing you from making some noise. He smiled at that and pressed his soft lips against yours, not rough at all, like he loved you back (he did).

"With all the shit I went through to get you here I'd say it was worth it.." Picking you up he held you tightly and thrusted up into you, your nails clawing at his back at your orgasm returning and the hurry in his movement. He placed you onto the desk and started going faster.

You missed it but the door opened. Not stopping, Sprout turned his head to the door only to see Rodger who had dropped his papers and was now standing there obviously bewildered - he smirked and stared right at him as he leaned down to kiss you as you moaned and orgasmed right then and there, Sprout's coming not long after yours. Rodger closed the door abruptly and Sprout laughed, unsure what he was laughing at you laughed a tiny bit along more happy to have done all of that with him rather than caring about what he found funny. You reached up to touch his face and then you realized you were on Rodger's desk, You look towards the door to see some papers in front of it.

You gasped and sat up - that's what he was laughing at.

note ; AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA i love sprout gng. (someone give me requests im going insane)

[verdantlights]

ZEN: LOG FOUR

TIME: POST ROUND FOURTEEN

After holding me for a while, Scorpius leaves. I stay curled in on myself, wishing to be done with everything. Wishing for a world where I can run barefoot on real grass with real flowers and real trees with my brothers.

My brothers...

Something uneasy settles in my chest. I can't pinpoint exactly what it is or why I'm feeling it, but it gets me to stand up, so I don't question it too much.

Now that I'm up, I can see that it's my dorm room. I don't have any roommates, so there's no emptiness to lament. This room has always been empty.

I managed to get changed into something comfortable. It's an outfit I don't get to wear often, but it's my favorite one nonetheless. Just a fitted black sleeveless mock-neck and loose green pants.

I'm tired. I'm so tired. I want to sleep. It's dawn in the Garden, so it wouldn't be too odd to sleep now. I know I'm skipping breakfast, but I can't eat like this. I wouldn't be surprised if none of the contestants showed up to breakfast.

Wait... it's dawn?

That means that the next row is starting in a few hours. I must've been sitting in my room for longer than I thought. An involuntary shiver runs through my body, that uneasy feeling getting stronger.

Despite every bone in my body screaming at me to collapse into bed and sleep, hoping I'll wake up in another world, I walk out of my room to go search for Scorpius.

I called her my mom. I didn't mean to do that.

Why did I do that?

I don't even... remember my mom. All I have is a very faint memory of a eucalyptus scent and short midnight blue hair and eyes. Her eyes were just like mine.

I reach back and run my fingers through the long portion of my hair, looking at its green-ish teal color. Whoever my dad is... if I even had one, must have had really strong genes and bright green hair. Star definitely got his hair, if that's the case. His hair is much lighter than mine.

I dunno. Maybe I'll ask Scorpius.

My hands come up to hold my arms, leaving me a bit slouched with crossed arms. I'm not cold, I just need something to hold onto.

Walking through the winding corridors of the facility is always a dreadful experience. I hate it so much. All I want to do is get to the visitor's office to see if Scorpius is still here.

I pass by screens and advertisements, but I stop in front of a screen that displays the tournament bracket for ALIEN STAGE.

The unsettling feeling hits me like a brick.

Right there, at the very beginning of the row, is Star vs Sun.

I notice that Sun and Daian were switched as punishment for Star and Kay's misconduct. A sigh of relief escapes me before I can stop it. I was worried Star would have to face Daian, and I didn't want to think about that at all. I don't want to watch the two most important people in my life sing for their lives, only for one of them to end up dead.

I just have to hope and pray that Star can pull through.

.

.

.

I have to kill the voice in my head telling me it'd be better if my brothers died, so that they wouldn't have to suffer in this hell anymore.

.

.

I forget to go find Scorpius and ask her about my real mother.

TIME: ROUND FIFTEEN

Watching the first round, I feel nothing but existential dread. Everything feels heavy. I hate the feeling. I'm wearing my outfit for my round later this afternoon and it's less uncomfortable, but it's warm and I'm already sweating. The anxiety really doesn't help here, I have to say.

.

.

Star and Sun, such complimentary names. They dance beautifully, honestly.

There's one issue, though. Star is losing.

I don't know much about Sun, but I can't watch my little Star die. My little brother.

The longer the round goes on, the more sick and panicked I get. I'm watching as Star looks ready to accept his fate with a smile. I kill that voice in my head again and my leg bounces like a jackhammer from the pod I'm sitting in as I watch.

As the song ends, the votes are tallied with Star being in second place. Star lost.

Star lost.

My little Star...

.

.

.

The audience is deathly quiet as they watch Sun receive her knife to perform the execution.

She doesn't stab Star though, she stabs herself.

I feel dizzy. I watch my brothers face fall and the audience gasp out in shock.

I feel ashamed and guilty for the sigh of relief I let out, but knowing my brother is alive is enough.

Knowing my brother is alive is enough.

hi lol

Star belongs to @lookuptotheskiesandsee (@/starry-skiez)

Sun belongs to @paradisedisconcert

Daian belongs to @apple8ees

Kay (only mentioned once) belongs to @imperfectnothing (@/rockwgooglyeyes)

@chevalperd @alien-til-i-stage @ivanttakethis @bluemoonscape @awaggaa @junebluues @yunoftheclouds @friedclownshrimp @4listr @nottoonedin @messengers-of-the-gods

ALSO IM NOT THE FUCKING HORSE PRINCE IM NOT IM NOT IM NOT IM NOT IM NOT IM NOT IM NOT

[inoreuct]

During a supply run with Zoro, a well-meaning lady tells Sanji he's pretty. Not handsome, no--PRETTY. "Your swordsman over there is handsome," she says, pointing at Zoro, who's examining liquor bottles over at another stall. "YOU are pretty." How does he react, & what happens next? 👀 (1/2)

he just laughs at first, if only to cover up how that one word from a stranger has hit him like a punch to the gut.

he looks like a man, and people don't call men pretty. rogueish, certainly. even charming; he's gotten that before at least, but pretty? he laughs some more, gives her a smile and a few words that he doesn't even register, and the merchant lady tilts her head. "you don't get that often, do you?"

"never gotten it at all, actually," he answers, bravado draining away to leave a mumble that he isn't even sure she can hear.

but she must have, because she slides his purchases to him and hums, "well, you're very beautiful. anyone'd have to be blind not to see it."

"maybe," he allows hesitantly, taking the bag with a nod of goodbye. he cannot help but feel as though he's realised something that he won't be able to ignore.

and sure enough, back on the ship, the words swim in his mind. they pop up in blinding white font against the dark of his eyelids as he tries and fails to get to sleep. you're very beautiful.

do i want to be beautiful? he asks himself, and halfway through he already knows, he knows the answer. feels it like an ache in his bones.

sanji's never let himself think about it, but once he starts he can't stop. he imagines himself in makeup, pots and pencils and brushes in front of a mirror, his hair fluffed to perfection, lips red as the dawn and a beauty mark beneath his eye. he thinks about what it would feel like to put on a dress, a proper one; cotton and linen traded for silk, starched dress shirts abandoned in favour of satin blouses and full skirts that nip in with ribbon at the waist. he thinks of the wicker wedge sandals that nami sometimes wears. he thinks about being a man, with a little something more.

he flips over and shoves his face into his pillow. he needs to stop thinking about things that he wants but can never have.

*

sanji's usually better at keeping his secrets, but eventually he slips. he should have known it was only a matter of time before the magnitude of it all became too much to bear and spilled out across the floor.

fortunately, his crew is there to catch him.

they take all of it in stride, even though sanji himself doesn't even know what all of it is yet; he figures things out as they go along. he finds clothes that aren't his in his closet, accessories appearing on his dresser. zoro keeps buying him silk blouses and it makes him want to laugh and cry in equal amounts. nami sees her chance to snag a makeup practice dummy and grabs it, which results in many a night in the girls' quarters, fooling around with makeup until they're either too tired or too giddy with laughter. the rest of the crew show their support in smaller ways, though no less significant—

and now, a year later and leaning against the bar counter of a vaguely familiar town, sanji suspects that he's somehow found himself. it hits him with all the grandeur of someone realising oh, it's stopped raining, or oh, tomorrow's tuesday— sinks into him honey-slow like the burn of the whiskey he sips, warm and comfortable, like a coat he hadn't realised he'd been wearing this whole time and had become his favourite without him even knowing. put like that, it sounds incredibly silly; sanji chuckles as he takes another drink, and a hand settles low on his back where the blue velvet of his dress dips down.

"hey, beautiful," zoro whispers by his ear, pressing a kiss to his cheekbone before leaning over his shoulder to order, and sanji smiles as he swirls his glass with a slow twirl of his wrist.

maybe he'll go look for that merchant lady again. he's fairly sure he owes her a thank you.

[gravitywonagain]

Sake and Cider at Sunrise

(a Fresh Powder in the Pine Trees story)

.

“Tomorrow morning, what are you doing?”

Lan Zhan is sitting at his desk in the middle of reading through something that looks exceedingly boring. Probably budget reports or something equally dull. Wei Ying isn't interrupting him so much as saving him.

Wei Ying half-sits on the edge of the desk as he grabs the paperwork from Lan Zhan’s hands and skims it. It is a budget report. 

“I --” Lan Zhan reaches to take the report back, but Wei Ying is faster, pulling it away as he interrupts whatever Lan Zhan was about to say.

“Nope. The answer is ‘meeting Wei Ying at Dafan for fresh pow.’”

He grins as Lan Zhan lets out a small sigh, his shoulders slumping under the burden that is being Wei Ying’s friend. 

In the most deadpan manner possible, Lan Zhan looks at Wei Ying and repeats, “Meeting Wei Ying at Dafan for fresh pow.”

Wei Ying bursts out laughing, almost falling off the desk, “You should say ‘pow’ way more often. I’ll die. It’s amazing,” he says, getting control over himself again. “Okay. But really. You wanna go?”

“I… sure. What time?”

“You’re gonna love this: Meet me there at five-thirty.”

The confusion on Lan Zhan’s face is understandable.

“In the morning?”

“In the morning.”

The skepticism is... also understandable, if a little dramatic. 

“You, and I quote, ‘hate waking up before dawn with the fire of the noonday sun which is way better than the dawn sun anyway.’”

Wei Ying laughs again, “I can’t believe you remember all that!”

Lan Zhan’s expression shifts to one part it’s true so what the fuck are you on about with this five-thirty nonsense, one part am I being pranked?, and one part I listen to the things you say and Wei Ying isn’t quite sure what to do with any of that. 

“But, yeah, that’s true. Unless it’s for powder. I will do many things for good powder.”

Now Lan Zhan looks like he’s filing that bit of information away for later, which is not concerning in the least. He turns his body to face Wei Ying and gives him his full attention. It’s a lot.

“Okay. What should I bring?”

Right. Backcountry. 

“Any gear you would want for hiking and powder skiing. You can borrow Wen Ning’s skins and bindings, I already asked. They won’t be perfect, but they’ll do for now, and I’ve got beacons and shit that I can lend you. You’ve done avalanche safety, right?”

“Every year since I was twelve.”

“Wow, say that with a little more disdain, Lan Zhan.”

“It was a requirement in school and now a requirement for my certifications.”

Wei Ying chuckles at the weird contempt Lan Zhan has for his many certs and their annual requirements. “Okay. Well, maybe this will make it feel more worth it.”

“If you say so.” Lan Zhan does not sound convinced.

“I do! The snow report looks epic!”

“Epic?”

There’s a small quirk in the corner of Lan Zhan’s mouth that makes Wei Ying’s heart beat faster.

Wei Ying nods, “Epic, Lan Zhan.”

“I hope you don’t mean that in the alpinist sense.”

In the alpinist sense, “epic” would mean that they hike, get lost, someone’s binding breaks, a freak storm hits, they have to dig in for the night, they leave at least one piece of gear on the mountain to be found in the spring, and, eventually, they make it back to the cars, hungry, tired, and probably after running into their own search party on the way down. This is absurd. Lan Zhan is such a fucking nerd. Wei Ying has no idea what he sees in him. 

He rolls his eyes but can’t quite keep himself from smiling, “When have I ever meant anything in the alpinist sense?”

Finding out Lan Zhan was a budding alpinist had been almost as bad as the minor panic Wei Ying had over the golfing scare with Jin Zixuan. Who wants to freeze their ass off, crossing crevasses on stupidly unstable ladders and getting hypoxic, just to stand on top of a mountain? Lan Zhan, apparently. 

“I will get you on big mountains one day.”

“Only if I can ride down.”

“Hm.”

Lan Zhan narrows his eyes, calculating but smug. Like he’s just won, or figured out how to win but needs to adjust his strategy. 

Wei Ying kind of hates it. But it’s kind of captivating, too, and hot. Very hot. 

Especially when Lan Zhan leans in slightly and Wei Ying mirrors him, caught in the gravity of Lan Zhan’s sharp gaze. Lan Zhan’s eyes flick to Wei Ying’s lips and Wei Ying is about to say something about them being in the fucking Ski School office when, suddenly, Lan Zhan snatches the budget reports out of Wei Ying’s hands and leans back in his chair. 

Smug, indeed. 

-

It’s still dark when Wei Ying pulls into the Dafan parking lot in his and the Wens’ well-loved, mostly-red ‘98 Subaru Outback. Did he make fun of Wen Qing for being a stereotype when she bought it? Yes. Does he love driving it around the mountains because it is, objectively, a good mountain car? Also, yes. Of course, next to Lan Zhan’s clean, white 2018 Jeep Cherokee, it looks like an absolute beater. 

Wei Ying looks at the clock on the dash as he cuts the engine. 05:27. Fuck yeah. He zips up his jacket, grabs the two thermoses from the passenger seat, and gets out of the car to meet Lan Zhan where he’s lifting the Jeep’s hatchback. 

It’s cold and quiet. Dark. The sun hasn’t even really started lighting the sky yet. Wei Ying breathes in the mountain air, pine trees and snow and granite, and lets it freeze his lungs for a moment. His shoes crunch on the snow and gravel as he walks toward Lan Zhan. 

“Good morning, Sunshine!”

“Good morning, Wei Ying. You’re… awake.”

Wei Ying smiles at Lan Zhan’s surprise, “Yeah, well, I drove here, so I sure hope so.”

“Mn.”

Their breath condenses in the air and swirls in the light from Lan Zhan’s open door. 

Wei Ying hands the cleaner, less dented, stolen from Wen Qing thermos to Lan Zhan, then turns to open his own hatchback to begin sorting through his own gear.

He can see Lan Zhan out of the corner of his eyes as he does. Standing as if frozen, with the thermos held out in front of him, confusion radiating off him like body heat.

“A Wei Family treat for the top!” says Wei Ying.

It doesn't seem to clear up Lan Zhan's questions.

“Okay, well, yours is just tea, you fucking lightweight." Never. He will never let it go. "But mine is sake and cider!”

Lan Zhan's eyebrow pops up, but it's an expression of curiosity rather than confusion. Wei Ying doesn't let himself think for too long about how well he can read Lan Zhan's silences these days. Or how fucking sculpted Lan Zhan's cheekbones and jaw are.

“My dad used to make up thermoses for my mom when she was backyard touring. He made them when we were all together, too, and let me have sips at the top.”

“Of sake?”

“Yeah. It wasn’t much, just a taste. But now it’s a tradition.”

Lan Zhan nods and sets the thermos down on the bumper of the jeep as he gathers his gear. He, as it turns out, already had touring bindings and skins, or his brother did, so they’re actually more prepared than Wei Ying had planned for, which is perfect.

“You’re gonna have your own gear by the end of the season,” says Wei Ying with a grin.

“Am I?”

“You are. And it’s going to be all the really nice, expensive stuff and I’m gonna be so jealous.”

“Hm. We’ll see.”

—

The hike starts out smooth, though Lan Zhan struggles a bit with the grade of the climb. Wei Ying cheats a little by putting his own climbing bars up, "Stiletto mode," he calls it, and Lan Zhan grumbles even though he's not the one breaking trail.

“Have you ever actually worn stilettos?” Lan Zhan asks.

“Oh, Honey, just wait until you see me in drag. You will lose your gotdamn mind.” 

Lan Zhan is mostly silent as they hike. Wei Ying lets the quiet linger.

It's early. They're surrounded by soft, fluffy powder. The air is still and freezing.

By the time they're halfway up the hill, they can turn off and stow their headlamps, the cold light of dawn shading everything blue. When they reach the top, the sun is peeking over the ridgeline, painting the sky and snow with pinks and purple, gilding the moutnains across the valley, sparkiling on the calm lake water in the distance.

Wei Ying drops his pack, fishing out his thermos and watching Lan Zhan do the same. He takes off his gloves to unscrew the cap, to press the release and pour himself a little cup of nostalgia.

The hike wasn't particualrly long or arduous. He feels his legs engaged, not tired. They still protest when he sits, though the chill of the snow through his snowpants eases some of their complaints. The sake eases them further.

Lan Zhan's eyes fall closed as he sips his tea, still standing, skis and poles stabbed upright into the snow next to him.

"This is nice," he says, and Wei Ying thinks he's not talking about the tea.

He's so beautiful in the morning light. It might be worth waking up early just to see him like this: serene in the cold, lit gold by the sun.

Steam rises from his thermos cap, turning his nose pink.

"Yeah," says Wei Ying, "yeah, it is."

After a calm moment, they begin to strip the skins off, the ripping sound loud in the near silent valley. Wei Ying shows Lan Zhan how to fold them in on themselves so that they won't stick to anything and everything in his pack.

When Wei Ying grabs his toolkit and gets to work switching his bindings around, Lan Zhan asks if he can try Wei Ying's drink.

Well, no. He asks if he can try the "Wei Family treat," but Wei Ying can't think about that too hard right now. He just grins and asks, "You gonna pass out on me at the top of this mountain, Lan Zhan?"

"Just a small sip," Lan Zhan says, taking the proffered thermos.

The face he makes rivals the cute scrunching of his nose when he tried beer for the first time.

“This is not sake or apple cider," he says, disdain and distrust in his voice.

Wei Ying laughs, “It is!”

“No, this is brewed rice alcohol and instant cider mix.” 

“You’ve seen my car. You think I can afford good alcohol?”

“I think this is closer to a cleaning solution than food grade,” he says, sniffing the thermos, wincing dramatically, and then handing it back to Wei Ying.

Wei Ying takes the thermos laughing, “Not all of us own a mountain, Lan Zhan!”

He loves bitchy Lan Zhan. He does not understand how Lan Zhan has managed to convince everybody that he’s all serious and stoic all the time. 

“Real sake need not be expensive,” Lan Zhan says, sounding exactly as rich as he is. 

“Like you’ve ever even tasted ‘real’ sake,” Wei Ying shoots back with a smile. 

“I’m not sure I’ve tasted any sake.”

Wei Ying snorts into a new bout of laughter and drops to his knees in the snow next to his splitboard. He giggles his way through configuring it back into a snowboard shape while Lan Zhan adjusts his ski bindings. 

“Alright,” says Wei Ying when he calms himself enough to speak, “Are you going to keep making fun of me? Or are we going to get some sunrise fresh tracks?”

“Just waiting for you to finish minor surgery on your gear.”

Wei Ying has to stop strapping in because he can’t breathe. It’s the deadpan snark that just fucking kills him. That bone-dry delivery. That playful glint in his honey-brown eyes. That deep, smooth baritone. Getting off track.

“Okay, punchy,” he says with his arms resting on his knees and his lungs labored with his amusement, “Is this what alcohol does to you before you pass out? Do we need to wait for you to sober up from your single, tiny sip?”

Lan Zhan makes a face that is somehow haughty and embarrassed and unimpressed all while saying fuck you with his eyes. 

Wei Ying loves it. 

“You’re so fucking cute,” Wei Ying says to no one in particular as he stands and clips the chest strap of his back pack together. He checks himself, looks around their spot. Nothing looks out of place. 

He shakes the adrenaline into his arms, feeling the moment shift. Lan Zhan, too, seems to feel the change in mood as he adjusts his goggles on his face. They share a look, a nod. It feels as natural as the smell of pine trees on the breeze. 

“Okay,” Wei Ying says with a smile, “let’s go.”

Wei Ying hops his board once, takes a deep breath of cold mountain air, drops his nose into the bowl, and floats.

Riding in untracked powder down a steep, open slope is one of his favorite things in life. He carves into the mountain and feels it carry him. His toe-edge cuts through the powder and he leans into the slope, dragging his hand through the snow just to catch it on his glove. It’s light, airy, cold. The wind rushes in his ears and he hears his own heartbeat.

His shoulders roll with the turns and his hips follow, easy as anything, used to this from years and years of muscle memory. He cruises down the slope, big easy turns, powder spraying in his wake. The sun is still lancing its rays across the mountain and it sparkles with the colors of dawn. He flows with it. His knees bend into the stretch, toes curling in his boots, weight shifting without him ever having to think about it. 

He sees Lan Zhan fly past him and the cold stings his lungs. Lan Zhan is beautiful in motion. This is not the first time he’s thought this. But, here, in Wei Ying’s world of quiet mountains and fresh powder, Lan Zhan is beautiful. His turns are clean and graceful, a slow rhythm building when he plants a pole. 

For a moment, Wei Ying sees his baba. 

When he meets Lan Zhan at the bottom of the hill, Wei Ying is smiling so hard he can’t control it. He, very carefully, does not spray Lan Zhan with snow when he stops, choosing to stop down mountain on his toes. There will be more laps. This one he wants to be as smooth and perfect as their first tracks. He wants so badly for Lan Zhan to be happy, to be enjoying this with him.

“What do you think?” he asks, trying not to let his anticipation color his voice. 

Lan Zhan turns toward him, then looks back up at the mountain, then back to Wei Ying. It’s not easy to see behind the goggles, but there’s a fire lit inside him. 

He smiles at Wei Ying. It’s small, a twitch of his lips, but real and young and happy. The same almost childish exuberance colors his voice when he says, “Again.”

The second lap is excellent, not only because Wei Ying gets to stare at Lan Zhan’s ass for the entire hike up, but also because the ride down is just as floaty, just as soft and perfect and breathtaking as the first. He does manage to spray Lan Zhan with powder this time and Lan Zhan’s unimpressed face kills Wei Ying for a second time before 8am. 

The sun shines bright in the sky on the third hike up and already the heat is rising. They begin to strip layers even before they start the climb -- jackets stowed in backpacks as they each drink some water and reset their gear. 

Wei Ying’s shirt comes off about halfway up the mountain. 

At the top, Wei Ying finds that Lan Zhan’s insulation layer has been tied around his waist and that there’s a silver necklace chain barely visible under the collar of his henley. 

When he asks about it, Lan Zhan takes his gloves off and pulls it free. It’s a family necklace, he explains, a diamond and aquamarine accented platinum snowflake on a platinum chain. His brother has a matching one, so do his father and uncle. 

He trails off and Wei Ying thinks there’s more to the story, but he doesn’t want to press. Not now. Not the time. 

They glide down the slope, crossing nobody’s tracks but their own. It’s quiet and peaceful and it’s just them. Only them. A perfect kind of solitude. 

It’s not until the fifth hike up that Lan Zhan finally gives in to the heat. 

Their muscles and bodies are warm from exertion, midday is truly upon them. In the rising temperatures Lan Zhan stops climbing, plants his poles and starts removing his pack. 

The sudden cessation of hiking noise and the sliding plastic sound of a backpack buckle behind him causes Wei Ying to stop and turn. When he does, he sees Lan Zhan, gloves stowed on his grips, shirt coming off over his head, winter-pale skin shining in the high noon sun. (Best sun. Best sun for so many reasons now.)

Wei Ying’s brain breaks a little. 

It’s one thing to know that someone is an athlete. It is another to see the sculpted muscle and lean lines that that entails. It’s a third to see all of that for the first time surrounded by mountains and powder and pine trees and perfectly lit by winter sunlight and the surrounding snow. Wei Ying wishes he had his camera. 

“The Heavens have blessed us this day.”

“Wei Ying.” Lan Zhan sounds both pleased and annoyed as he tucks his shirt into his backpack. The gemstone snowflake hangs between his collarbones, askew from his movement. 

“Seriously, Lan Zhan. Holy fuck. How is that fair?”

The man has a six-pack and sex lines and still manages to look genuinely confused by Wei Ying’s reaction. The audacity. 

“I bet you have a gym in your house, don’t you.”

“I do,” Lan Zhan says easily, putting his gloves back on and drawing attention to his forearms. As if Wei Ying weren’t already absurdly attracted to him. 

“Oh, fuck off.”

Lan Zhan’s shoulders and chest and arms flex as he pulls his poles out of the snow and gestures with one up the hill. It doesn’t even look deliberate which drives Wei Ying crazy. His snow pants sit low on his hips and Wei Ying wants, almost desperately, for a reason to make Lan Zhan go first so he can check out his back muscles as he hikes. Nothing comes to mind. He settles for maybe, possibly, getting a repeat wardrobe change on their next lap. 

Fuck, he wants to see those muscles work. 

“Yeah,” Wei Ying lets his eyes drag over Lan Zhan one more time before turning back up the trail, “I’m gonna go bury my head in the snow to cool off now. Thanks. Where’s an avalanche when you need one?” He stabs his poles into the snow and grabs his t-shirt from his waistband. 

“What are you doing?”

“Putting my fucking shirt back on. I have enough self-esteem issues, thank --”

“Don’t.”

There’s something in Lan Zhan’s voice that forces Wei Ying to turn and look at him. Something vulnerable and raw.

“Don’t?”

“Please,” he says softly, “I like looking at you.”

Wei Ying feels speared open by that. He feels… The blush that creeps up his chest is bared already. 

“Aiya, Lan Zhan. How are you so fucking sincere?”

Pink graces Lan Zhan’s ears as he holds Wei Ying’s eyes. He says nothing. He doesn’t look away. 

Wei Ying gives.

“Okay. Okay, the shirt’s staying off.”

When they reach the peak and start stripping the skins off their skis, Wei Ying does, in fact, stick his face in the snow. It only helps a little. 

They finish after a sixth lap. 

Lan Zhan does take off his shirt again as he leads the hike up. 

Wei Ying, somehow, doesn’t die about it. 

-

The next day, after lessons are closed, Lan Zhan meets him by the instructor lockers and hands him the thermos he’d taken home. When Wei Ying grabs it, it’s heavier than he expects and it sloshes like it’s full. He quirks an eyebrow at Lan Zhan, but Lan Zhan just nods at it, clearly waiting for Wei Ying to take a sip. So he does. 

It’s hot and sweet and… alcoholic? It’s smooth and thick, but not syrupy, and smells spiced. 

“This is delicious, Lan Zhan!”

“Mn.” Lan Zhan looks smug as hell and says, “That is sake and cider.”

Wei Ying’s laughter can probably be heard all the way in HR, he shakes so hard with it. 

He loves it when Lan Zhan is a bitch. 

[honey-crystall]

FANFIC "NO, I'M NOT A CORPSE"

CHAPTER 1. THE MEETING OF OPPOSITES

I don't remember how I ended up in the raspberry bushes, and it was so bad that I couldn't get out. It's funny. The thorns dug furiously into my icy skin, leaving bloody marks on the exposed parts of my body, which were few: my face, neck, and maybe my fingers. I tried several times to get out of the raspberry's embrace, but it didn't seem to want to let me go.

— No cóż, to jest po prostu wspaniałe!¹ — I swore in Polish, abandoning all attempts. I think I'm going to burn under the rays of the searing sun. Huh, of course it's silly - I was exhausted two days ago, and now I'm going to die again very painfully. — Why is it like this?

Suddenly, I heard approaching footsteps. I froze and tried to sit up, wanting to see the source of these sounds. Without my glasses, I'll be honest, my vision is terrible, but right now they're in terrible condition. When the lanky figure approached me, I could finally make out the silhouette better: a gray T-shirt with some kind of print, black shorts, a thin body and an obviously surprised and irritated face with dark circles under the eyes. I pursed my lips, feeling how the words kept getting stuck in my throat like a painful lump. The man looked me over and sighed heavily.

— Fuck, what the hell are you doing there? — he asked rather rudely, rubbing the bridge of his nose. — I don't get it, is there honey on this or what?

I took a deep breath, looking the stranger straight in the eyes... Well, where they should be, since I can't see very well.

— I'm sorry to bother you at such a late hour, but... can you please help me get out of here? — I asked, ashamed of how pathetic I looked right now.

The man sighed heavily, grabbed me by the armpits and pulled me out of captivity quite easily. He sat me down on the grass with the wall facing the house and sat down next to me. Now I could more or less make out every wrinkle, the scar on the bridge of my nose and tired eyes. A few seconds later I caught myself staring at him for a long time and turned away abruptly, blushing a little.

- Sorry, I was lost in thought... - I muttered briefly, adjusting my hair, and with a heavy sigh I felt raspberry branches in my hair and began to take them out. - Well, I had to fly into the bush!

The stranger just chuckled, helping me pull the twigs out of my curly hair.

- Forget it, I won't die from it. Better answer, how did you end up there? - asked the brown-haired man, carefully untangling his hair and taking out the leaves. - You might as well have hidden in the nettles.

I bit my lip, realizing how stupid I looked during that time. I pursed my lips, shrugging.

- As funny as it may sound, I don't even remember it. I just suddenly came to myself - owch!.. - I cried out quietly, not having time to finish the sentence. It seems the man pulled the branch unsuccessfully.

— Sorry, but I got your point, — he threw the branches aside, then glanced at his watch. I rubbed the place where it hurt from the twitching and looked at the man with interest, while my face was emotionless. The man looked at me a little worriedly and seemed to be thinking about what to do with me. — Listen, dawn is coming soon and standing in the sun is not an option, so I suggest you stay with me until next night, okay?

I raised my eyebrows, not expecting such mercy from a stranger. I wanted to politely refuse, but realizing that it was a bad idea to stay in the open during the day, I sighed:

— If you don’t mind, then I don’t mind, — I said, looking at the man. — I was just looking for a quieter place.

The man nodded contentedly, leading me to the porch. He was tall, two meters for sure, and his limbs seemed somehow too long and rather thin. Something about him was attractive... but it was hard to say what exactly.

We entered the house, when a dog with fluffy black and white fur ran up to us and joyfully greeted us, quietly barking and jumping on me, which was a little annoying, but the man pulled the dog away from me so as not to stain my clothes.

— Silly girl, damn her... and don't be afraid, Nika doesn't bite, at most she'll lick you to death, — he grinned, stroking the dog on the top of the head. — By the way, what's your name?

I smiled weakly at the statement about licking and relaxed a little.

— Eugene, just Eugene,— I extended my hand for a handshake.

— Sergey or Sych, as you prefer, — Sych chuckled, shaking my skinny hand. After that, I shuddered, hearing the plaintive rumbling of my stomach, to which I only sighed heavily, patted my stomach (well, more precisely, where it should have been instead of a dark hole) and pursed my lips. Sych decided not to leave a comment on this, but only offered. — I have food, unless of course you prefer to starve.

I looked at my stomach with slight hostility and, looking down a little, straightened my jacket and nodded.

— Tak², I definitely will, but do you happen to have any bandages? — I was worried, though I kept my face blank and my eyebrows furrowed. I wanted to bandage my stomach so I couldn't see the damn hole, and I didn't want to get an infection. I know what you're about to say: "But you've been walking for a long time without bandages, why complain?". It's called survivor's error, and I don't want to risk it.

Sych looked at me with slight surprise.

— You're hurt?

— Tak, but I can treat and bandage it, — I mouthed. He shrugged, took me to the bathroom, which was quite spacious, and, after a little digging in the medicine cabinet, handed me a bottle of peroxide, cotton pads, and bandages, and then went out to the kitchen, leaving me alone. — Dziękuję!³

I took off my jacket and sweater, placing it carefully beside me. When I saw my reflection, I sighed heavily. My ribs were sticking out, and my sides had gotten smaller. I looked like a martyr. I poked my finger into my skinny sides a couple times, feeling the firmness of my skin and... rumbling again. I hadn't eaten properly in a long time, truth be told. Not even when I was alive since medical college.

It wasn't hard to bandage my stomach and treat the scratches from the raspberry bushes, it was just uncomfortable and if someone had helped, I would have finished faster, though I'm not ready to reveal all my cards. After looking at my reflection for a while, I threw on some clothes and suddenly froze. I was naked now and didn't I feel any colder? I stared at myself, realizing how deeply mistaken I was, but I couldn't part with my winter jacket anymore, because I already felt like it was a part of me. I chuckled quietly and left the bathroom, heading to the kitchen.

When I peeked out from behind the door, I could see Sych standing at the stove, heating something. I walked quietly into the room and sat down at the table, savoring the pleasant smell of pork and buckwheat. It had been so long since I had smelled that pleasant aroma of the past. Sych looked around and asked:

— I see you're done. Just in time, I'm all set, —he said, turning off the burner and putting the food on a plate with a fork, then setting it in front of me. — It wasn't a masterpiece, but it tasted good, I thought.

I hesitantly put the fork in my mouth and got a slight nostalgia for my childhood in my forehead and began to chew more actively, barely managing to swallow, because I was so hungry. Sych looked at it with great amazement. He probably didn't expect me to get so excited, but at that moment all I cared about was filling my stomach. When I was done eating, I looked at Sych and looked away.

— Przepraszam⁴, I haven't eaten in a long time... — I sighed, nervously clicking my knuckles, trying to keep my mask of calm, though inside I was in a hurricane of emotions, ranging from shame to sadness from not the most pleasant thoughts. But, to my surprise, he looked calm enough, despite his stern look and sharpness.

— You've got something to apologize for. You're as worried as if I'd put you out on the street for it, — said Sych, chewing on the end of his pencil and thinking about something. Maybe sudoku or a crossword.

In that second, I felt a kind of relief that for once I wasn't being judged for something I'd done. I filled the plate with water and put it in the sink, finally relieved of the hunger that was eating away at me. I turned my head, looking around the kitchen. Not a bad setup: table and chairs by the curtained window, a refrigerator in the corner, a silvered stove next to it, bollards and a rakwina; there was a bowl of water and food near them, and a rack with a radio, books, and some souvenirs.

— You have a cozy kitchen, — I said, looking at the painting on the wall. It's called "Boulevard Montmartre at Night". It's quite beautiful. — I remembered our kitchen was the same size, but everything was so out of place that my eyes were ready to run away.

— I'm afraid I can't imagine what it looked like,— he grinned, putting the paper and pencil aside. He looked me over, as if he wanted to read everything that was on my mind. — You must be tired from the road, and the bags under your eyes are below sea level.

I couldn't disagree. I was ready to pass out at any time and collapse on the floor. Sych took me to one of the rooms and even helped me make up the bed. It was nice to lie on a firm mattress and not have to use the mailman as a pillow. I looked at Sergei with a look of gratitude.

— And before I go to my room, I want to make one thing clear. If you try to kill me or do anything to Nika, I won't spare you, — his tone was firm and confident. It was like he was giving a command to a dog, which wasn't very pleasant, but I didn't argue, because this was his house, and given the hell that was going on outside, his distrust was understandable. — Ahem, have a good day.

I replied with a nod, wrapping myself in a blanket and turning off the light.

Dziękuję Ci bardzo, Serge...

(¹From Polish "Great, just great!" - or something like that.

²"Yes"

³"Thanks!"

⁴"Sorry")

I almost died while I was translating..... Can you please draw something on this chapter?:_)

You can find the original in Russian here

https://ficbook.net/readfic/0196474b-95fe-727c-87a7-f4a161999f77

[felixsramen]

When i saw the part where y/n said that she was an introvert and loves reading i was in tears really i wanna thank this person that she reqested that!

So i wanna ask if you could do maybe a oneshot where y/n has a really down day couldnt sleep and when it was morning she was out for groceries and the members were at work and when they came home they saw y/n lying on the couch sleeping but with a book in their hand and the members realize how much y/n was struggling lately and they do something to help her getting better maybe? If thats okay for you i mean you dont habe to but i would really love that

I really liked this ask. Im sorry it's a little short though.

It was probably about 4am now. You were awake on the giant bed that your boyfriends had decided to buy so you all could sleep together. You were currently in-between Changbin and I.N. It was raining at this point and the rain matched your mood. You couldn't sleep after being stressed from work and getting that promotion that had you working later. Instead you climb out of the bed and make your way to the living room.

It hadn't been even a week of getting that promotion. You go to the blinds and open them all the way. You watch as another flash of lightning brightened the sky. You couldn't help but sit on the couch by the window looking out it.

The rain splattered across the sky and you watch as the leaves and tiny branches from the tree in the front yard come down. You couldn't help but cry. You had been yelled at yesterday by your boss for the stack of papers that she had gave you earlier in the week, when she had given you the promotion, hadn't all been filled out by yesterday.

Luckily she didn't force you to do another day of work and told you she expected it done when you returned. It didn't make you feel any better though knowing this was just the first week. It didn't help that your boyfriends were busy working and getting ready for their comeback. So they were staying late practicing and would come home tired and just ready to eat and rest. It didn't bother you much but you were starting to miss spending time with them.

You were sobbing at this point as the droplets hit your window covering it up. Eventually the tears dried and so did the rain but the clouds were still grey. You had stayed up all night and into the morning.

You hear the door open. The light turns on and you see Seungmin who has bed hair. He yawns and stretches. "What are you doing in here this early?" He asks you in his morning voice.

"Couldn't sleep." You tell him and he makes his way to the couch. He goes up to you and climbs onto the couch cuddling into you. Your hand goes to his hair and he sighs.

"They'll be getting up in a few minutes. I have to get ready for work too." He says yawning again. Your nails go into his hair and scratch his scalp and he sighs with content.

He slowly pulls away from you reluctantly. He goes into the room again probably to get the rest of the boys up. Within 30 minutes the house is full with your 8 boyfriends.

"Fucking hell. It's too early for this." Jisung whines onto Hyunjin who is half asleep but ready to go on the other couch.

Your other 6 boyfriends make their way to the living room. "I really don't want to go. Sometimes I wish I had decided to do literally anything else that doesn't involve me waking up at the ass crack of dawn." Minho grumbles as he grabs the keys.

Chan nods eyes heavy as he takes a sip of his coffee. "I'm so tired." Jisung whines again.

"Lets go. They said they'd let us leave work early and then we'll have a couple days off after." Chan says taking another sip of the coffee he made.

The boys file out of the house waving at you and telling you they love you. Changbin sighs. "We'll be back around 1." He says bag on his shoulder.

"I'd appreciate it if you went shopping today. I left money on the nightstand." Minho says yawning and you nod your head.

"I love you." He says and you return it. He sighs as he closes the door behind him. You let out your own sigh.

You weren't feeling much better. You instead went on your phone scrolling through for the next few hours before you decide to go to the grocery store.

You don't feel good about yourself so you throw on a pair of sweatpants and one of Felixs hoodie, opting on going for a more lazy look. Who cared anyways? It was just the grocery store. You grab the money that sat on the nightstand and you put it in your wallet and grab your purse shoving it inside.

It didn't take you long getting in the car and going to the store. Luckily Minho had made a list of things that you needed to get. You were quick to find them knowing you couldn't stand being out in public at the moment. You checked the list once again making sure you had gotten everything.

Your phone buzzes. "Also me and Bin need protein shakes for working out. Love you and thank you!" A message from Chan reads. You try your best not to make a face at the mention of the protein shakes Chan and Changbin would chug. You sigh but go towards that aisle.

You quickly grab it and check out. You were glad the house wasn't too far. You got home and put the groceries up quickly and it was around noon. You wondered if the boys kept your book out that you had currently been reading or if Minho had put it up with the rest of your books.

You go to the drawer occupying the room and open it finding your book. Luckily the bookmark was in it still. Jisung had a habit of picking your book up wrong and the bookmark falling out of it. You grab the book shutting the drawer. You make your way to the hall closet grabbing an extra blanket from there and making your place on the couch.

You had gotten halfway through the book before your eyes started getting heavy. Not being able to sleep last night must've taken a toll on you because before long your eyes give up on you.

The boys pull up to the house getting out. "Why did we have to be there so long today? I thought we were getting out at 3." He complains as he grabs his bag.

"We would've left around 1 if you spent more time practicing than complaining about doing it." Hyunjin says glaring at his boyfriend.

"It was hard and we were there all dayyyy." Jisung says dragging out his last word.

Minho raises an eyebrow at his boyfriend. "You literally got it in like 20 minutes after you stopped complaining." He says as Chan grabs the keys from his pocket.

"So you're saying it's all my fault?" He says pouting.

"No it's not Ji. You weren't the only one complaining instead of practicing we all were." Changbin says as Chan unlocks the door letting them inside.

"Y/N!!!!" Jisung yells out for you ready to jump on you and smother you with love. Instead he sees you on the couch with a blanket and one of your books laying on you.

He comes up to you and the boys follow behind. Usually you'd be up doing stuff around the house to keep you busy while your boyfriends were gone on your off days.

"She's asleep." Jisung says to his boyfriends.

"We can see that Ji." Hyunjin says to him. Jisung glares at his boyfriend.

"You know what I meant." Jisung says looking back at you.

"I don't think she slept at all last night." Seungmin says speaking up to his boyfriends. They look at him confused.

He sighs. "I got up before you guys and I didn't see her so of course I went looking for her. I saw her looking out the window on the couch. So I went up to her and asked what she was doing up so early. She told me she couldn't sleep." Seungmin says to his boyfriends and they look at you concerned.

"I woke up at one point and noticed she wasn't in bed but I didn't think much of it at the time. I was too tired." Felix says to his boyfriends.

"How long has she been like this?" Changbin asks no one in particular.

"I think we should be concerned Chan." I.N. says and he nods.

"I don't think any of us realized how much she's going through especially with the new promotion." Minho says sighing.

Chan nods once again. Minho grabs the book and places the book mark in it. He sighs watching you.

"Should we wake her?" Hyunjin asks his boyfriends. Chan shakes his head.

"Not yet." Minho says agreeing with Chan.

"We should at least take her to the room." Felix says and they nod. Changbin scoops you up into his arms careful to not wake you up taking you in the room and laying you down.

Jisung and I.N. climb in bed too pressing their bodies against you. You cuddle into I.N.s chest who stays still. "Since we have the next few days off I think we should come up with days we each try and spend with her." Chan says and the boys agree.

"Me, Hyunjin, and Innie were going to go to the new little coffee shop tomorrow. We were planning on inviting her too." Seungmin says replying to his boyfriend.

"Okay good. For the next few days we're off let's all invite her to go with us wherever we go." Changbin says watching you.

You slowly open your eyes to being cuddled behind and in front of you. "Hey love. How'd you sleep?" Jisung asks from behind you.

"Better." You say sighing and rubbing your eyes. You try to sit up but I.N. and Jisung keep you in place.

"Did you sleep last night?" Changbin asks you concerned. They finally let you go so you can look at your other boyfriends. They all have concerned looks on their faces as you sigh.

"No." You say admitting it and Chan comes up beside I.N. and sits on the edge of the bed.

"Are you guys upset at me?" You ask them. You quickly get all 8 boys shaking their heads.

"Not at all we're just worried about you that's it." Minho tells you and you want to break into tears at their words.

You can't help but bite your lip to try and stop the tears. Chan sighs seeing you do that with a sad smile on his face. "What did I tell you about that?" He says hand coming to your face tugging your lip from your teeth.

That does it and you burst into tears. All of the boys quickly try and comfort you by hugging you. "It's okay love." You hear Seungmin say and that causes you to cry harder. "I missed you guys." You sob into their arms and they feel guilty about not being able to spend as much time with you.

When your tears finally stop the boys pull away but Felix doesn't. "You have to take care of yourself. Okay? No matter how much you miss us. You have to promise us that okay?" Felix says holding a pinky promise and you can't help but smile at the childish gesture. You take his pinky finger in yours too.

"I promise." You say and he kisses your hand.

"HUG PILE!!!" Jisung shouts and he throws himself on you followed by the rest of your boyfriends.

"You're squishing me!" You manage to say while laughing.

"Yeah. With our love." Hyunjin says making you laugh harder.

The boys pull away not before each kissing you on the lips. "We all love you no matter how busy we get. Remember that." Hyunjin says planting another kiss on your lips.

You were grateful to have all of your 8 boyfriends love for you and each other.

[sxilor-1010]

Yule Log

Words: 1074

☾★☾★☾★

Getting caught up in work, it’s easy to forget to have time for yourself, especially during the holidays. She’s heard a lot of concerns and reminders from her coworkers, and all of them went by her head saying she’s “relaxed a bit.”

It was her day off, and she had been fighting off the urge to work through celebrating Christmas. Or, in her case, Yule. Now, she wouldn’t say she was a witch. She liked magic, but magic in a world full of technology isn’t known too much.

Why do magic when you have many robots already doing stuff for you? Well for starters, they don’t know how to make a proper Yule log. Which is exactly what Emilyn is doing to celebrate her day off.

Sure she had to go some shopping for some of the things needed, but a little shopping never hurt her. Her table was dawned in bright red plaid, courtesy of Djenne and its amazing fabrics, with a fresh wooden log and other things.

Emilyn hummed to herself, holding a knife as she approached the table. With the log in her hands, she began to carefully carve holes big enough for the candles to fit. The wood emanated a nice scent, and she couldn’t help but close her eyes to admire it all. Her mouth moved on its own, just mumbling a song she remembered hearing while scrolling through YouTube earlier.

“God rest ye merry, pagan folk,

Let nothing you dismay.

Remember that the Sun returns

Upon this Solstice day.

The growing dark is ending now

And Spring is on its way.

Oh, tidings of comfort and joy,

Comfort and joy!

Oh, tidings of comfort and joy…”

Before Emilyn could continue singing, the distant noises of an aerial jet had caught the wind in her ears. Her hands stopped carving and she opened her eyes, looking towards a nearby window to see a familiar face smirk at her. “I didn’t think you’d stop by today, Starscream.” Emilyn approached the window, opening it to look at his face.

“My plans haven’t been the greatest this year, and I’m tired. What better way to relax than to accompany my little moon~?” He said slyly, Emilyn blushing just a bit as he moved a digit to caress her cheek. “You’re lucky I’m in a good mood to handle your flirts. Might as well come in.” Starscream smirked, drawing back his digit and walking to her door. Emilyn closed her window and opened the door, the Decepticon now mass displaced.

It wouldn’t be long before Starscream took notice of Emilyn’s little project, and he walked over with curiosity. “What are you making here?” Emilyn turned, smiling just a little bit before taking a seat back down. “It’s a yule log, just something to celebrate for this year…” Her words slightly drifted when turning to face Starscream, confusion glinted slightly in his crimson optics. “Oh, right… You’re probably not aware of Yule or Christmas, huh?”

“No, I’m not. Perhaps you can give me some insight later…” The Decepticon spoke, grabbing a chair of his own to sit next to Emilyn. She chuckled, keeping that as a mental note in the back of her mind. “Alright well, you can watch what I’m doing if you want. Up to you.” With that, Emilyn got back to carving, and Starscream watched intently, curiosity soon drifting towards the other items around her. There were a few candles, greenery branches of pine and cedar, not to mention dried fruits and pinecones.

“Quite the inventory of primitive materials, but what does one do with all of this?” Starscream spoke, plucking a pine branch in between his fingers to get a feel. Emilyn turned towards him, grabbing that branch and placing it back into the nearby pile. “You decorate this log, and supposedly it brings good luck and warmth to those who light the candles. It also wards off bad energy from harming you.” Ah, superstitious stuff. He should’ve guessed. “Peh, superstitious and magical nonsense. Humans are weird.”

That was enough to have Emilyn frown at Starscream, who laughed and smirked. “Well, not nonsense to you, my dear.” She rolled her eyes, grabbing the nearby hot glue gun and the pine branch he was fiddling with earlier. “Does magic not exist as a concept to you guys?” She turned to face Starscream, who placed a couple of digits on his chin in thought. “Not as much as you’d like to think. It exists in concept, but it was never said to be shown.” Huh, so it did exist in some way at least.

“That makes sense, given you and the Autobots are from a planet of metal, right?” Starscream nodded, albeit frowned a bit at the mention of the Autobots. “Magic can’t exist in a place that has metal, or iron. One of the two.” Emilyn spoke, Starscream watching carefully with curious optics as she glued the various nature pieces she had gathered onto the log. “I like to believe that even within today’s times, there’s still magic in this world. Hell, there might be pixies and fairies dancing outside my house right now and I wouldn’t even know it.”

Starscream looked in quiet awe seeing the once naked log now adorned in pine branches and dried fruits, not to mention the interesting scent it gave off. It surely was something magical, but it felt like something was also missing. Luckily, Emilyn was just about to get to that when grabbing ahold of the long candles. “Alright, I’m gonna need your help on this one. You’re gonna hold these perfectly still while I add glue onto the bottom.” The Decepticon looked in confusion but grabbed one of the candles nonetheless. It felt waxy amongst his digits, but it was a nice shade of red. He watched as Emilyn took the glue gun, adding a nice warm dollop to the bottom.

“What do you do once you’re done with this… ‘yule log’?” He asked curiously, Emilyn moving the glue gun away to glue the sides of the holes she carved out earlier. “Well, you just kinda leave it somewhere nice to burn until the end of Christmas. There’s not much else to it.” He nods, Emilyn taking the candle and placing it on the far right. “Only two more and then we’re done.”

“Maybe after we’re finished, I can explain Yule to you.” Hearing that, Starscream smirked lightly and chuckled.

He’d appreciate that very much.

[diediegamchicothdie]

Still of the Night

[Pelle and Quorthon]

Baby comeback, I was wrong, I can't live without you.

3/?

Also available in AO3!!!!

The music was loud, mixed with the strong smell of tobacco and alcohol. The air was running out in the room full of idiots, making Per even less patient. The noise of guitar solos, laughing posers and beer bottles crashing, felt his body heavy, really didn’t want to do anything, but was bound by that contract. He looks behind the bar, he was not yet used to that place. Although it had been a long time since he started his work days, there was something that his body rejected from Quorthon’s shop, as if this place would cause him to rot. Still far from the social circle full of annoying conversations, foolish girls who approached in vain tried to attract the attention of the chestnut without success, tarts fame-seekers who would not get anywhere. For his part, he kept himself distant, distant in body, perhaps a bit too in mind, just landing to check on the jerks or bring more bottles or cigars for Thomas’s invented ones. 

Thomas, who played to drink a beer and then put his eyes on the blond who was only there to be paid for overtime. Part of him wished that But he had been more interested, perhaps the seventeen-year-old Per would have jumped out of his skin for the thrill of sharing such an intimate space with him, no longer. He himself knew it better than anyone, The Per he met years ago was blinded by a sickly fanaticism, an obsession passionate about him, who until that moment was his idol. To the disgrace of Yngve who used to idealize people too much, he had not fulfilled their expectations. Sure, it was very easy to write emails where the tone remained mysterious, hidden between the veil of distance and the cold of technology, preferred that to much warmer and more personal letters. Per loved the cruel version his mind had concocted, the terrible man who screamed on the records he had so much cherished, for whom the name “Bathory” was carved into his body. It was bad to think of them, perhaps, but it was impossible for him not to do so with Per. If he had been the man that the blond man desired, perhaps he would be the one huddled against his chest that night. Instead, he was now standing at the counter, with his tired celestial eyes, patiently staring at his low pamphlet, as if chewing every letter printed on the paper.

The tension was like a piece of ice, it burned slowly if you held it for a long time, but kept the room cool. Thomas liked the feeling, the insults so sincere contrasted with the idyllic atmosphere, as if the cold hands dragged him to the ground, it would be so perfect if only the two of them. Now, Per was content to ignore, could not keep up with the situation, felt that accommodating himself to Quorthon’s needs was a matter, though exclusively monetary, carried a trail of humiliation, as if he had given him reason. Perhaps he should have listened to the major and not pursued such absurd dreams.

Per never thought to set foot in “HeavySound” again, much less behind the counter, cleaning up dust and monitoring Quorthon, he was decent, had spent years fixing his brothers' messes. Later than early, Per had learned to be in charge, with his parents busy between work, their drama and eventual separation, he came to the realization that it was just him and his brothers. Strangely feminine, quickly took the form of mother and father, knew how to do everything required in a home. A load that came from dawn to dusk. With such a small body and broken hands, he soon began to get impatient, carried along by his little brothers. 

Soon at school they began to murmur, Per, with small body, belly of wire and legs of stick.  He who carried the little children to their halls, and waited for them with some book in his hands until the moment of leaving, was a fag. You can not deny nature, nor educate the fool, Per, so young and innocent was just like a woman. Do not deny the tree with twisted branches, it must be cut. The rumors fell in blows on the blond’s body, as if it were snow, his limbs numb as if he had struck a frozen lake, and all murmured “Per has his mother’s face!”.

He had no peace in those who were misnamed the sweetest years, felt the beasts lurking behind his small figure, burning eyes on his neck. Perhaps the burning eyes of Quorthon, who had always reminded him of a werewolf, hurt him so much, devoured him in the days. Although his routine was oddly comforting, with the blonde arriving at 9 AM and leaving at 7 PM, perhaps a little longer. Had nothing better to do than talk shit of Quorthon in his face, besides cleaning, attending assholes, selling shit music and making coffee, besides ordering the worst possible lunch for his boss (as I did not lose hope that the latter would have been poisoned by surströmming).  The routine slowly killed him, like dust accumulating in his lungs, he felt his asthma strike behind his bronchi, scratching the back of his throat and filling his respiratory system with mucus. Everything was suffocating, he felt his lungs weaken with each breath of air, as if they could hardly function, so the arrival of Jon was a breeze of icy wind for his heavy chest.

— Pelle! I’m so happy to finally see you.

He salutes the teenager with his face that still had childish features, cheeks a little chubby and the look of berk. Pelle could not help smiling back as she took off her blanket, feeling a strange familiarity with the boy, he could easily be another of his brothers. He was endearing, cute. 

— Anyway, I didn’t think you’d really come.

Said Pelle, his voice still as he placed his chest on the counter. 

— Of course I would! You tell me that you can see me now and then invite me to the Quorthon shop, it was pretty good to be true.

Pelle laughed, approaching the boy with complicity, putting her lips as close as his ear. Jon, also put his side by bringing his body closer to the major who seemed far away from the frontman of “mayhem”, yet could feel the darkness in his pale eyes, this excited him. 

The elder’s fine lips opened in a malicious smile that accompanied his poisonous words — Quorthon is just a poser whose daddy pays everything.

He muttered the poisonous but firm words in a brazen mockery of his boss, who was just inches from the pair of young men laughing loudly, in a complicity that neither Per nor Thomas could experience.

— I know, I still like your music.

Admitted the teenager, with his face slightly flushed, he was really ashamed to admit that in front of Pelle, who took away weight from his insecurity by shrugging his shoulders.

— If you say so, I will not argue with you, not tonight — threatened Pelle in a jester tone while he was away playing to have a more serious attitude.

— Are you upset that I still like his music even though he’s a poser?

Jon asked, with his eyes looking forward to the blonde, who shook his head as he walked away for a beer.

— For nothing Jon, I’ve already told you, do not pay too much attention to us, if it helps you to continue doing brutal — clarified the blonde by bringing the drink to the minor who took it anxious — Do you want to go meet him? 

The question was in the air as Jon quickly drank the drink, stood watching the liquid go down his throat, and then the bottle fell on the counter with a strong blow. The intense eyes on Jon were set upon him, as if he was about to kill him. That thought made him so happy, that Pelle could not help enlarging his smile. Jon’s nerves were piling up in his throat, hitting his chest hard, as if he could vomit his heart at that moment, the seconds lengthened into a silent talk, until he could speak.

— What happened to “mayhem”? , with Øystein? , I was hoping to see you, I say, you both, together, in Oslo next year.

Pelle’s smile broke, he took it from the counter and refused to walk a little, trying to regulate the words that ran in his mind, what happened with Øystein? , that was the real question. It was time to recognize that I still did not know how to deal with the situation, it was a fresh wound that hurt with the slightest breath of fresh breeze. He couldn’t think, his head hurt, What happened to Øystein? He wanted to know, too. 

— You shouldn’t ask that kind of thing on an empty stomach, sure you’ve traveled all day, let’s go inside, I still have my lunch — Yngve explained while fiddling with his fingers on the table. After a moment he decided, I walk a couple of steps. Finally, he got close enough to Quorthon to scream with all his might — I’m going to the cellar! 

The loud voice overcame the music, now Thomas could focus all his attention on the blonde without it looking weird. He stood up, leaving his guests aside to stand in front of Pelle, who had already taken the liberty of passing Jon behind the counter. Displeased, he held his gaze fixed on the blond, who seemed upset at not being able to follow his whim, grumbling slightly as he took off his latex gloves.

— What do you want?

He questioned, already irritated by the silence of his boss who was driving him crazy, pushing his fury with his silence. His gaze that revisited Per’s face and the face of the kid who hid what tick behind the back of the dead boy. 

— Who is he? You didn’t tell me you had a guest.

— It’s Jon, he’s my friend, he has a band, and he’s just looking for advice.

— What kind of advice?

Demanded to know Thomas, who did not trust in that closeness, in his eyes the way of acting of both young men was totally reprehensible, who watched him with a desire to tear off his head.

— What do you care! Those are personal things of us.

Pelle fought back while Jon, like a little child, hid behind his back, with his head slightly down. This attitude made Thomas upset, who gave his beer to Per by pushing it against his chest, with a smile he ordered: “Open it”. The left hand took the bottle, brought it to its mouth, hooked the metal cap to its lips, cutting a bit of its mouth. Per felt the blood, tasted it and then pressed, pulling the cold metal, a hollow sound rumbled in the ears of the Per. The aluminum lay between the cracked lips, suffering pressure from Yngve, before being ejected with a burst of saliva. With the accuracy of a marksman, the cap flew like a projectile to the chestnut’s forehead, who took a few steps back. Thomas’s hand stroked his forehead, the traces of saliva stuck on his fingers, so gross. He wanted to disappear for a moment, but he could not do it, much less could control his employee, who had already gone down to the cellar next to the teenager.

Pelle sighed, annoyed, really hated that bastard whom he had chosen as chief. He shook a little the feeling and all the food tray that had saved, really did not want anything.

— It’s chicken, eat, I haven’t touched it.

Offered Pelle while he settled on one of the boxes of merchandise. Jon imitated him quickly, he ate desperately and stained his face in the process, had not eaten anything since morning and that was already affecting him. He chewed large chunks of food in front of Pelle’s tender smile, who was already preparing his speech. While Jon’s stomach was heating up, Pelle’s was cooling down, not so long ago it felt like that, between the file of his memory the images became clear. What happened with Øystein? , he didn’t know it well either, that’s life. He had his heart in the mouth, he wanted to spit it out, resigned himself to all the feelings that still made him human. Pelle I saw the night come out with love, he looked at the moon in Øystein’s face, he knew that they were breaking before the fall of the stars before dawn. What happened to them? , he didn’t know, he was still trying to process the end of both.

— About Øystein… can you tell me what happened?

Question the teenager in a low voice, as if he feared to start an explosive reaction in the major, it was obvious that this affected him, even though he tried to stay strong. Pelle, he had a pale face, with the eye basin sunken. Pelle was a strong guy, only shrugged his head.

— Things just didn’t go as we planned, at first it was great, everything seemed to be going well, until it wasn’t.

— Why?

The question, so simple, carried with it a veil of doubt, a waterfall that reminded him of the tears that Pelle had shed from his journey from Norway to Sweden, shattered, with lungs like a forest fire. He could do it, he looked down at the floor, that helped him to keep his voice loud.

— Human relationships are very complex, sometimes everything goes sideways, that’s very easy to happen — he clarified by taking a can of beer that was in a six-pack they had not yet opened, he was supposed not to drink on the working day, but the words hurt his throat — our relationship gave us more suffering than kindness, the band was not going anywhere, and Øystein was making plans in which I did not want to participate.

— Have you been fighting?

Curiosity mixed with genuine concern, uneasy about the situation he had completely ignored. Pelle noticed how the teenager struggled to understand the dynamics of that broken relationship, he understood it, it is difficult to let go of people.

— No, in the end we did not, just talked and agreed — he explained with a calm voice. Carefully choosing each word to avoid misunderstandings — the last few months we were already supporting each other, fighting all the time — the words of Pelle stopped in the eyes of Jon, were lacking in brightness, was there, with the disappointment stabbing his brain, as it hurt him to do that — just, we no longer wanted to feel like this, we came to the conclusion of following separate paths.

— What now? — questioned still stunned, Jon thought that would never happen, but apparently even people who live tied to the hip can separate not return, or no? — Do you have other plans? Are you going back to music?

Pelle again denied with his head in an act of resignation — No, things are better this way, now we’re just at different times, different things, Øystein is going to open the store and a record company, now he keeps saying that it’s only going to be for Norwegian bands, but it won’t last long, opens the doors to anyone he likes.

— I understand — the teenager muttered, he felt defeated, but Pelle came over stroking his back in a comforting act — I really wanted to see them both next year in Norway, now I don’t know if I want to go. 

— Don’t say that Jon, Øystein is really cool, the most brutal guy I’ve ever met, whatever happened to us should not destroy the relationship you already have.

— You gonna be mad at me for going with him?

The question made Pelle laugh slightly who again denied — No, not at all, I know you will do it amazing, hated listening to the demos of all those idiots who thought their music was good enough to be called black metal, but you, your band was always something special, don’t ruin that opportunity.

Jon nodded by leaning his head against Pelle’s shoulder, sighing, letting go of his doubts for a moment. The loud music was muffled by the concrete walls of the basement, the white light, the black painted walls and the blonde who looked like a ghost under the dim lighting. Everything was so confused, the scene I had heard so much about no longer existed in the same way, and the man I had spoken to for over a year, death, was as warm as a mother. The blonde was aware of it, the approach so sweet, both experienced at the time, with his hand on the shoulder of the chestnut as a sign of comfort. He felt like judging, as if something was behind the door, looking behind the door, stalking his movements, as if he was doing something dirty. He knew that he was not doing it, Jon was just a child whose idol had disappointed him, but he would be fine, he was strong, more than anyone, could overcome it. What could never be changed is that Pelle had his mother’s face, but perhaps he was a little more like his father.

— Come on, let’s go.

He said getting up to leave the place with his heavy feet, really it weighed him walking. Jon followed him in the same step as he wiped his mouth.

— So what do you plan to do?

— I want to enter an art school, I thought of “Konstfack” or “Kungliga Konsthögskolan”, but, all require me to finish school, open a portfolio and stuff — I explain something annoying by the situation — it’s very complicated, and I don’t know if I managed, Besides there’s an aptitude test and an interview, I’m terrible at it.

— You can finish school at a distance, take classes from home, maybe in the middle of work, find a space and finish the lessons.

Cheer up Jon as they returned to the counter. Pelle shrugged, taking a couple of beers to pour. The suggestion made Pelle smile foolishly, who took the beer in small sips and then answered.

— You may be right, but the aptitude test and the interview… it kind of keeps me up at night.

— You’ll do it incredible, they’d be idiots who know nothing about art if they ever turned you down — the words came out of his mouth while he was bringing his beer to Pelle, who only raised an eyebrow — let’s drink, because when you present your works I will be the first to go see them, I swear it in the name of Satan!

Jon lifted his beer over his head, with a serious expression, squeezing his lips and lowering his eyebrows. Pelle nodded, laughing at the boy’s excitement. The beers collided and were then swallowed in a silly game, a competition of who finished his drink first. Pelle finally relaxed, talked to the teenager, a little more, the band, the music, the future plans of “Dissection”. Jon’s eyes were alive, and terrifying, a beast. Pelle smiled, knowing he could do what he always dreamed of, trusting Jon so much.

The clock struck 10 o'clock, it was time to leave, the blond smiled, stretched out thundering his backbones and let out a sigh. He looked at Jon saying “I’m going to get my jacket and we’re leaving” and then left the last beer in front of him. Walk to the kitchen where he had left his things that morning, started preparing for his departure, but his boss prevented him with a quiet but firm sentence.

— I thought you were staying here until the party was over.

Said Quorthon lying on the frame of the door, he was drunk, and his expression was obvious annoyance. Pelle refused without paying much attention, while he looked in the cupboard for a pack of cookies.

— No, I would do triple, maybe, quadruple shift, and the truth I want to rest — opened the package while he took the sweet to his mouth, giving a small bite, chewing ridiculously slow — Besides, I want to take Jon to his aunt’s house, is a little drunk and is younger.

— I overheard your conversation.

That revelation angered the blond, who approached threateningly, pushing Quorthon against the wall of the corridor, hitting his boss head and back in the act. His face with the expression totally irritated, out of place. Per had the face of a maniac, really was a psychotic, because he still remembered well the gifts of fresh dead animals. That meant love for Per, a crucified rat.

— ¡You’re a fucking gossip! I told you it was personal stuff! — The blonde guy screams loudly, taking the torn neck of the chestnut man’s shirt as he sighs — What the fuck do you care what he is talking to?!

Thomas’s eyes opened wide, his trembling hands took Per by the shoulders, pushing him away from him, ripping off some of the highest man’s clothes in the process. The blond banged against the wall, leaving a faint white noise on his head, but he didn’t have time for that. Walk behind the chestnut, who was yelling at his guests to leave. Drunk and aggressive, he quickly took people out, turned off the music and broke beer bottles out of frustration. Pelle was disgusted, looked at him with disgust as he approached Jon and took him by the shoulder.

— What’s the matter?

Asked the teenager confused by the scene, somewhat astonished by the vocalist of “Bathory”, so far from the perfect image of the face of Swedish extreme metal. 

— It happens that he is an idiot who does not know how to face the consequences of his actions — I assure you while starting to walk next to the chestnut — I told you, he is a fucking idiot, apart from love gossiping.

Jon, who was clearly already drunk, laughed loudly, calling the attention of the rest of Quorthon’s stupid friends who also came out, embarrassed or upset by being taken out in that way. For his part, the youngest still clung to Pelle not to go away from face to face, he still did not know how to handle so much alcohol in his blood. They walked to finally meet under the huge flame moon of June, the blond always puzzled and terrified by the passing of time, as if it stabbed him. I look at the huge moon with eyes full of nostalgia, What happened with Øystein? 

He held the boy by his side, plunged into thoughts, talking mentally to the moon. His mind was a hole that swallowed every sense of solemnity, until he felt as they stroked from the nape of his neck to the lower part of his back. The blond man quickly turned, in a little leap, before he saw him, he recognized the warm and large hands that touched him so familiarly.

— Take me home, I can’t drive like this.

He asked with his head down, as if he were a scolded dog, pathetic, impotent, and above all, terribly drunk. Pelle thought of it, he didn’t want anything to do with the jerk who kept embarrassed by his acting, but Jon was drunk, and it would be great if he vomited in his boss’s car.

— Okay, give me the keys.

Per demanded, stretching his hand towards the chestnut’s face, who quickly handed them to him. They walked quietly to the car, which they soon boarded, with Jon lying in the back seats, Thomas as co-pilot and Pelle in front. He took a sigh, pulled out a pack of snus and bit it, smashing it between his teeth hard before pulling away. The contents were spilling in his mouth as he sped through the streets of Stockholm. Their eyes fixed on the road, avoiding looking at Quorthon who had not stopped looking at him since they left, nor knew what he wanted, but it was not good. The journey was short to get to Jon’s house, parked in front of this and said goodbye to the boy with a “take care, then we will see the city,” he promised firmly with the minor, following his lively tone reply: "Let’s hit some faggots fans of Glam". The strong between both frame the end of that intense night, followed the calm post storm, Jon took all the chaos when he got out of the car (to Per’s sadness: no trace of vomit). 

After the farewell, there was silence among the passengers, with the lights off and the radio disabled. Pelle, now turned to look at Quorthon who did not understand his look, could only remain silent waiting for the minor to speak, to his misfortune, Yngve no longer had any interest. It was time to be swallowed up by the violent silence of the Swedish streets. Neon lights blinded the chestnut, the face of the blond with the red face of the traffic light, a demon. The chestnut licked his lips, with his hands clients, even with alcohol in the system, really enraptured. He thought of all that happened as he put a lock of hair behind Per’s ear, this act did not mute him, it was another of the occurrences of missing gray matter of Quorthon, who began to speak. Now he knew he needed to do it.

— So, what about Pelle?

Question that nickname, curious about it. Pelle, was as similar as different, much more tender in some way. Soft on the palate, did not scratch the throat as its original name.

— My friends call me Pelle, it’s a nickname for affection.

Explain the blonde spinning through the streets without a fixed sense, only the desire to explore the streets in the quiet night, empty streets, only the two enemies who by chance shared the road.

— It’s a good nickname…

— It’s a nickname — short the blonde very quickly trivial conversation, as he hated them — Where do you want to go? , you haven’t told me where your house is — he pointed out with quite desperate obviousness for the attitude of the highest — Tell me!

— Don’t yell at me…

Asked Thomas in a submissive tone, fabricated by the grief that still generated the scene of jealousy. There was no logical reason why Per could have such a real connection, what part of his disgusting being was worthy of so much trust? , what did the dead man have to be treated with kindness even though he didn’t deserve it? Life was really unfair, despite his success had been condemned to be Fenrir. He was isolated, afraid to open up, never had felt that anyone had the desire to hear his words, not even his music was appreciated as he wanted it. He lazily leaned his face on his right hand, holding with the little strength that alcohol had not snatched from him, and licked his lips shyly to begin talking.

— The "Heimskringla" has 16 tales, well, those that have been considered official so far — he started to explain by playing with his fingers on the dashboard of the car, felt Per’s eyes on him, a really curious look — It is better known as "Chronicle of the Nordic Kings" but I prefer to use our own language to define it, it’s like taking ownership of my roots. I fell in love with that book when I was about 12 years old, it was fascinating.

— What made you fall in love with that book?

Asked curious Per, who now, himself debated to see the chestnut or see the road. Thomas was pleased, tapping his fingers harder against the board. He moved his head from side to side, with his eyes looking at the blond, at the road, and within his memory, happy to be able to talk, finally talking about something important. 

— It’s fascinating, the first part talks exclusively about mythology, although small touches of reality, small introductions to meet the first Scandinavian kings — his eyes the blonde who tried to give him all his attention, jumping between the streets, until the darkness consumed them, moving away from the city — For me the book is divided after the death of Odin, it’s when it takes a more serious turn, well, it’s not as if the above was a joke, There had been a lot of fucked-up things going on since the “Ynglings” were crowned, but when Odin died.

Per looked at him with an expression of utter disbelief before stopping at the entrance to a forest, looked down for a while — did Odin die?

— Yes, he was murdered, it’s common knowledge, everyone knows.

— I didn’t know, he was supposed to be very powerful, how did he die?

Asked Per curious about that information. Thomas nodded slowly and stepped out of the car to sit at the front of the car, leaning against the windscreen. Per imitated the action by sitting next to him while offering a pack of snus that Thomas accepted.

— It’s a complicated thing, in my opinion it starts from the search for knowledge of "Odin", who knowing already the prophecy of the "Ragnarök" takes a reflective position before the end of days - explained while he bit the pack of snus, popping between his teeth, relaxed a little more and timidly approached by passing his fingers on the thin arm of Per - he "Ragnarök" was an inevitable event, like the death of "Odin", here comes someone very important: "Fenrir", son of "Loki", a large wolf that had been banished by the fear of the Gods, as it became larger and more and more filled with resentment when denied contact with others, but the burden of "Fenrir" is that it could not be controlled.

— Is it so bad not to be controlled? —  questioned Per, full of snus, with relaxed eyes, tired, just like his words, soft but doubtful, really understanding the chestnut’s words —  He was just being the same, instincts can’t be held back, only coupled.

Thomas firmly denied while he was settling down to detail the cold eyes of Per, so sad —      joined the chaos of "Ragnarök", finally facing the cause of his loneliness, for him already strengthened "Fenrir" was not difficult to kill "Odin", who had already been through enough battles, even with his few forces, tried to fight back, but we can’t beat fate —  he explains as his hand went up Per’s arm to his shoulder, doubting if he would touch his face —  died like a warrior, the death of "Odin" was like the death of "Ragnarök" itself, the ultimate sacrifice to make way for the new world composed of fumes and gods who managed to survive.

At the end of the explanation, Per nodded slowly as he closed his eyes, he really needed to rest. He stuck his face against the windscreen, exhausted, it was too much for today.

-I’m sorry to have overheard your conversation, it was weird seeing you in confidence with such a young boy…

He admitted shyly, hated to say that he had been wrong, but the anger of the blond was much more weighty. Shy because, he who was the biggest among the three had not endured curiosity, jealousy, everything, was weak before everything. 

— No, I’m not like you — explained the minor with a laugh, but without raising his head and much less open his eyes — it is something rare, very significant for both.

-You were like a father explaining a divorce.

He pointed out Thomas with suspicion, did not want to hear the words, but had to, because otherwise I would end up killing him. He would end up dead because of the intrigue.

— It’s a bit like that, now I understand a bit my father — he explained to finally sit down, taking his words into the woods, it was obvious that he didn’t even want to keep them in his mind — when my parents got divorced, it was really fucked up, obviously they no longer loved each other, Maybe they never did.

— Where are we? 

Asked the chestnut to take away weight from Yngve’s words, he really cared few or nothing about his current location.

— In an alternative entrance to "Skogskyrkogården", I found it when I just came back, the bastards who guard the main entrance were denying me passage for months — he said excited pointing out a specific part of the forest, Which Thomas can’t see — Do you know why I brought you?

— No really — he assures you without giving much attention to his words, concentrating on the blond’s euphoric face, finally putting his hand on his face, exploring his skin as cold as porcelain — you are a very weird guy, surely want to steal a corpse.

— No… — he murmured to finally put his eyes on Quorthon, with a soft expression, innocent, and drugged by the snus effect — it’s because I made a tomb for you, and plan to bury your body there tonight.

The statement startled the major, he found no trace of fun in those words, obviously the minor did not joke, knew him well enough to know that. He was capable of doing that, would not shake his hand to execute it. The seconds became eternal, neither moved, and Thomas’s mind went to sleep, the fight-or-flight response turned into a total incapacity generated by the impact of not knowing what to do now. 

Per came closer, leaving his lips a few inches away. He breathed against his mouth, his body so relaxed. He had a long, thin body, if each scar was a thorn, it was a dangerous figure. Per, venous, lethal, a Venus Fly Trap, He approached him, made him tremble for his life, fear for his hands, desire his chest, his arms around his body. Pelle seemed ever closer, imposing, and he swears he would have devoured him before he started laughing, pushing him slightly.

 —That I’m kidding! I didn’t make you a grave!

Loud cry, waking up the birds, which took a night flight over their heads. The chestnut raised his gaze, noticing the animals on top of them. It was too much, with Per everything was too much, he did not get used to it, never knew who was hunting whom. Which dog knows how, the other dog.

— What happened when your parents got divorced?

Per hesitated for a few seconds to speak, but he was tired of drowning, now there was no one, only that idiot who insisted on knowing his secrets. What else did he have? , he knew that when he resigned, Quorthon would deny his words. They never met.

— My father spoke to me first, it really wasn’t such a big revelation, it was the best for everyone — he said coughing a little to finally spit even side of the car — it’s much better to have two separated, happy parents than having them together, miserable.

— I understand…

— Yes, then asked me to explain it to my brothers, they have always been more attached to me, and I was neutral in the situation. It was really hard to explain that our parents would no longer be together, they were much younger and cried. They cried so much for days that I thought of drying their tears to save the salt — he swallowed again, breathed, looked.  Looking at everything and nothing, wanting to be a bush or bird, anything but human — it’s easy to forget the feeling for a moment, when you’re distracted, talking, watching a movie, going to the park, but, when you’re alone your mind tends to betray you, you end up thinking, remembering every moment — Pelle seemed depressed, it was too late, the tranquility had made him a sad waste of man — I remember so much those days, my poor children were burned their faces from so much crying.

Thomas actually passed his arm over the shoulders of the blond, drawing his frail body into a hug that broke the cold of Per’s memories. As if his arms really possessed that ability. No heat could pull Pelle’s sadness.

 — I know Jon won’t cry, he’s a brat, he really is, immature and naive, but he’s strong…

 — You’re saying that you and Øystein are officially divorced? 

He questioned with his heart beating fast, knowing that it would not change their relationship or their feelings. He hated Per, was nasty, dirty, unsavory, his smell was foul, his mark was death, stripped of all grace or charm. What he hated most was his lack of strength to take what he wanted, like a fucking coward. In his eyes he was just a madman who was damaged, destroyed his body calling it art. Although, at that moment, under her arm, she will look like “Freya”, sweet “huldra” with a goat’s tail. He really hopes for his lips, trembling and unprotected, beautiful and fragile creature who only wanted to be worshiped. He passed his hand back over his cheek, down the chin, holding it for a while carefully, did not want to break it.

 — Yes, we have, we no longer have any kind of relationship, since that day, everything is silence.

He cleared his eyes, his face, the voice was broken in small whispers, unable to keep going. His throat was as tight as his lungs. Thomas’s restlessness was not contained, no more, he raised his face and left a soft kiss on the lips of the minor. Knew alcohol and snus, a sudden, premeditated crash, both already knew they were breaking. Per’s heart was aching, holding it steady, like a wooden puppet, his mind rejecting him, his organs too, his soul glued to that of Øystein, with his primary senses stunned. He continued, a little more between the hugs of his idol that I once loved, because although he hated it, let go, well they knew it, Per did not pursue any logic. When they separated, the question was not let wait, it was as necessary as breathing.

— Pelle, you told your little friend that everything was fine, so why do you want to cry? — He muttered with his lips still close, a claim among irritated flesh  —Had you not ended well? That both decided to take different paths?

He questioned Thomas with the minor still in his arms, wishing to crush each of his bones with his body. If I could teach him, correct him to be content to merge with him. That he did not deny with his head, that he surrendered to his will and whims as if he were a good boy.

 — No, Thomas, I have not decided, Øystein asked me to leave  — he confessed with a broken voice — Øystein told me one morning, it would be better if I returned to Sweden, that’s why I’m here again.

[brainfilehasstoppedworking]

I'm a bit tired and high on absolutly nothing but air, and i come up with this weird headcanon :

Kiyondo (and a tiny bit Celestia) forced Kiyotaka to watch Twilight. For absolut no goddamn reason.

Here is his differents reaction to the movies iconic moments (that i chose. Obviously)

First movie ; The "You better hold on thight spider monkey" Line :

Taka : Why does he say that ??

Kiyo : Dunno, dude's weird.

Taka : Let me look up something quickly.

Kiyo : *pause the movie while Taka is writting violently on his phone*

Taka : *show something on his phone to Kiyondo*

The picture on his phone :

...

*silence*

Kiyo : It does look like her-

The "Sparkly vampire"

Taka : Why ?

Kiyondo : *shurg*

Second movie ;

The "I am depressed for 8 months because my hot vampire boyfriend left me"

Taka : ... Somehow this feel familiar ?

Kiyo : How ?!

Taka : I-I don't know ! It feel like something i have done in another life or something...

Kiyo : Okay !! Coffee break !! Now.

(I don't remmember what happened in the other movie so fast foward to Breaking dawn part 1)

The "Oh god, oh god, he broke the freaking bed frame 😳" scene

Taka and Kiyo : ....

Taka : ...Is it weird if i want that ?

Kiyo : If it's weird i don't want to be normal...

Taka : God...

Kiyo : ...You think Mondo can do that ?

Taka : Brother !... I-I don't know...

Kiyo : Well you know what to do next.

"What the hell happened to the house- THEY HAD SEX ??? THAT'S WHAT HAPPENED ???"

Taka : I need that man but only for that part.

Kiyo : This movie is awekening something in ya and i am all for that bro.

Taka : I mean, Jacob is more handsome but if Edward do that to me...

Kiyo : Bro ! Stop ! But yeah, Team Jacob ?

Taka : Yes. Team Jacob.

Kiyo : Anyway back to the fact that ya are a slut-

(If you want more of Taka reaction to certain movie just come in my ask box bro, i'm so bored and i'm okay with watching weird movie lmao)

LMAOOOO, OMGGG, TAKA ME FR!!! Get you a guy who loves you AND WILL BREAK THE DAMN BED WHILE Y'ALL HAVE SEX! (I wonder who he gets that from...*looks over at Takaaki*)

Also, yes, Team Jacob, he was a little annoying in later movies, but like...love him <33. I wonder how he'd react to Edward telling Bella he watches her sleep. From the first movie fndne. It's not iconic, but broski is so weird for that, like HELLO???

Also, go to bed soon! Sleep is very important! (<- hypocrite)

[mercurialanthology]

I don't usually post out of context random drafts but I was going through some of my WIPs and decided this one was decent enough to share. So here's a little blurb of me and my partner's Stardew Valley OCs for fun! This hasn't really been edited much so don't mind if it's clunky.

Shane manages the best he can to leave quietly once Ju-Ri is finally off to sleep. Having to hop out the window isn't the most ego-boosting thing for a guy to do. Especially in his current shape, it wasn't too easy either. The two of them were basically together at this point, they fucked more days out of the week than not. But besides that, they hung out…normally as well. He was surprised Ju-Ri was still keeping their relationship hidden, but he didn’t dare pry into the matter. Luckily, Shane didn't always have to make an escape plan late into the night, but when he did, it was dreadful.

Shane figures Hei-Ran, Ju-Ri's seemingly overbearing older sister, has to be asleep at this point. It's probably well close to 4 AM. Surely if he walks quietly enough and moves the door slowly, she wouldn't wake up. Shane makes his way to the front door of the house, mumbling a profanity at the fact that it's the only entrance and exit other than the many windows. He twists the knob very slowly, careful not to let it click when it opens and turns. Once he's sure he can, Shane opens the door smoothly, the hinges blessing him with silence. He closes the door the same way he opened it, and then quickly starts to shove his shoes back on. He can't see much in the very early break of dawn, but it's just enough for him to amble home safely.

"Hello"

"Jesus fuck!" He nearly shouts, instead it's a harsh whisper, the sudden voice a couple feet from him causes Shane to drop his sneaker loudly on the porch.

Hei-Ran sits politely in a porch chair, staring at the guilty man in front of her, "Long night?" She jests, evident that she’s aware of their situation. The palm of Shane's hand drags along his features before he pinches the bridge of his nose.

"Something like that,” he scoffs.

"May I ask why you're leaving my house at,” She glances around her as if to estimate the time from the sunrise, “What is it now, four in the morning?"

"Figured you'd be sleepin', got tired of using the damn window," Shane confessed, obviously annoyed that he managed to get caught despite his cautiousness.

Hei-Ran quirks her eyebrow, "So that's where you typically flee from," she takes a sip of her tea. He curses himself mentally for slipping up. Even though her countenance is quite calm, Shane feels intimidated by her aura.

Shane throws his hands out to his side as if to shrug, "So…" Ju-Ri was going to kill him for getting caught for sure.

“Well, if you’d like to stay for breakfast you can. I’ll be starting it soon,” Hei-Ran offered. Contrary to what Shane expected, she didn’t seem mad. Her offer was genuine, her mood tranquil. Her discontent would likely be directed at Ju-Ri later for her secrets and lying. He cringed slightly at the idea of Ju-Ri’s fiery rage coming towards him in return later.

“I better get going,” Shane shuffled a foot on the porch, looking out onto their farm. Marnie’s wasn’t far from here, and he needed to rest for a few more hours before work, “Thanks though,” the gratitude rolled off his tongue awkwardly, and he shambled off the porch steps with haste, disappearing into the dreariness of the dawn’s shadow. Hei-Ran finished her hot tea before standing to head inside and start breakfast.

~

A few hours later, Ju-Ri got up at her usual time.

“You’re up early,” She yawned to Hei-Ran as she grabbed some coffee, “Must be getting old,” She giggled before hopping in a seat at the table. Hei-Ran gave little reaction to her statement, she was used to her little sister quipping at her.

Ju-Ri’s behavior was typical, it always was even when she was hiding something. It was something she got used to doing over the years. Her history of displeasing her parents only made her better at being sneaky. Hei-Ran finished up with her cooking, and brought the food over to the table where Ju-Ri watched the TV as she sipped her coffee. Steam was still curling over the rim of the cup. In a show of polite manners, Hei-Ran served Ju-Ri food onto her plate.

"Thanks," Ju-Ri's gaze was still focused on the screen in front of her, a news anchor's voice announcing the weather forecast.

"So," Hei-Ran started, gracefully putting food onto her own plate, "I saw Shane this mor-"

"Idiot!" Ju-Ri shouted, slamming her fist into the table, plates rattling against the surface. Hei-Ran jumped back at the severity of her tone.

"Ju-Ri," Hei-Ran said in a stern tone, like a mother scolding her child.

"Look, if you're going to get onto me for it I don't want to hear it," Ju-Ri said begrudgingly, throwing her hand out to the side like she had already given up.

"It's not like I haven't known," Hei-Ran treads carefully, shrugging her shoulders, "I just don't understand why you kept it a secret from me. I'm not going to be upset with you."

"You were when it was Sebastian," Ju-Ri's arms were crossed, avoiding eye contact with her sister, who was now visibly tense.

"That was different," Hei-Ran's lips are pursed, tension evident in her shoulders.

"Whatever," Ju-Ri started shoveling food into her mouth in a fussy manner, "As long as you don't bother me about it."

Hei-Ran gives a disappointed sigh, “You don’t have to hide it from me. I like Shane,” she looks into her sister's eyes, whose gaze is focused back onto Hei-Ran, “He’s welcome here whenever. I mean that.”

Ju-Ri’s face becomes tinged with pink as she turns her head away, taking another gulp of her drink. She gets up from the table, gathering her dishes. Without saying another word to Hei-Ran, she heads out the door to take care of the animals. Hei-Ran knows Ju-Ri isn’t typically as closed off about this sort of thing. That’s how she knows this is different. Ju-Ri wouldn't necessarily shy away from telling her sister she was fooling around with someone. But this wasn’t that simple, and Hei-Ran knew that. Luckily, she was patient enough to wait for Ju-Ri to realize why she felt the way she did.

[fareehaandspaniards]

21 and 25 for Damian! And 22 for any characters you're like to talk about

21. If you're a fic writer and have written for this character, what's your favorite thing to do when you're writing for this character? What's something you don't like?

All his lines, speech, facial expressions - I can feel them so much I start jumping on my chair and squeal, it's not a joke xd He is so tender, I can't? Every his thought starts with a "What (insert name) would want? What would they feel?". It IS such a delight to write a character who is so kind, so you might show his affection for others in small details. A delight to write a pure soul who has inner conflict and always tries to make everything better for others. I love writing him and all little details for him... He suffered a lot in my stories, but all his torment led him to become who he is, and in the end he lived to see the real Yharnam Dawn Q_Q Even his suffering is pleasant to describe in some sense, because through it you lead him to a better future, you make him understand something. Oh...

25. What was your first impression of this character? How about now?

Hehehe xd I met him first time only when was fighting Ebrietas and was surprised that there is someone except Micolash with that silly cage on his head. I didn't pay much attention to him (woah, grandpa from the School of Mensis :/) unless realized that I absolutely can't understand him (from the School of Mensis AND helping to player! Wow!) and started to dig into his character? The fact that he wields shield and a threaded cane, using lots of arcane magic and even healing choir bell, his tired look - he gave me vibes of a Protector archetype. Also he is old. I love it. Somehow an old man with long hair is my kink and I can do nothing about it (and don't need to) xd

Right now he is my sweetest blorbo, beloved, little meow meow and ooooooof I search for any content with him EVERYWHERE

22. If we talk about Damian - it is so rare that anyone detalizes his character. Damian always plays second role, nothing surprising actually, but I always want more about him.

Also lady Maria - I am living for fics where she acts like a young girl! I mean she is sensitive, enthusiastic, curious and opens her big heart to every new adventure (to close her heart later and suffer a lot Q_Q). I like her very much in your "Scholar's Dream" and waiting for more!

[on-my-contrarian-sh1t]

speak now (taylor’s version) ! this is possibly my favorite song on this album. tell me your favorite song on this album + your character of choice and i’ll write a blurb for you. OMG HAUNTED W REMUS OMG OMG OMG

i wrote this entire thing at like the crack of dawn and proofreading is stomping on my creative judgement (translation: i don’t feel like proofreading) i hope you like it though! i really enjoyed writing it.

“ HAUNTED ” REMUS LUPIN + FEM ! READER ( blurb )

For years, your relationship with Remus was fragile. But you never thought it was fragile enough to break. 

There was a good reason for it to be fragile. You were the first person to find out Remus was a werewolf and he always thought it would push you away. It never did. What really pushed you away was the fact that Remus felt inhibited by you. You never wanted him to feel like that and you did your best it show him that. Somehow, your point was never gotten across. After years of being together, you slowly began to doubt the relationship. Am I really that awful of a person? Am I like this with everyone? Would he be better off if I just left? No, you can’t leave. That would prove what he thought all along. 

The beginning of the end began late one night. Remus and you were fighting. Despite your situation, it was very rare for the two of you to actually get into an argument. 

“You can’t just tell me you care about me and then push me away,” he told you, his voice rising. 

“You can’t be serious, Remus,” you replied harshly. “You’re the one who constantly needs me to bend over back to show that I care about you but then you push me away! I’m sick of carrying this relationship, Remus.”

“You know it’s hard for me to trust–“

“No, Remus, no. Don’t do that,” you said, shaking your head and burying your face in your hands. “No. It’s hard to trust someone you just met. It’s hard to trust someone who’s betrayed you. It’s hard to trust someone shady. It’s not hard to trust someone who constantly tells you they care about you. It’s not hard to trust someone you’ve known your whole life. It’s not hard to trust someone who cares about you and loves you to death.” 

“You don’t understand the situation I’m in!” he exclaimed. There was something on his tone. It wasn’t quite anger – it was nearing anger – but more of frustration. 

“You’re right!” you snapped at him, pointing your finger angrily at him. “You’re right, I don’t understand. Because you don’t let me in! You don’t even try. It’s like I mean nothing to you. It’s like everything I do to try and make it easier for you means jackshit.”

“You know that’s not true–“

“Remus, I’m sick and fucking tired of you telling me what I know and don’t know, what I understand and what I don’t understand,” you interrupted, shaking your head and looking away. 

“You have to try and be more understanding here,” he told you firmly, his eyebrows knitting together.

“I am trying,” you replied stiffly, turning around. “I’ve been trying. For seven years, I’ve been trying. What have you done? You’ve shut me out.” You sighed. “Remus, I love you. I really do. But it’s hard. We’ve had this issue before.” You swallowed. It felt like you were swallowing spoonfuls of sand. “Remus, honey, I think we should end it. End this.”

Everything seemed to go still. Nothing moved. The air was thick and still in the room. 

“What?” he asked. He genuinely sounded confused and it truly broke your heart. 

The next time you spoke, a few seconds later, your voice was hoarse and quiet. You tried not to show emotion and let your point stand strong but it was hard. You looked at him with sad eyes but all he say was coldness and distance. The same coldness and distance he feared for years. “I think I should leave. You can keep your secrets. I love you. I always will.”

“What?” repeated Remus, this time his voice a little more sturdy. “What? You can’t leave. We can make it work. We can handle this.”

“I don’t think you understand, Remus,” you told him, biting this inside of you lip until you tasted the faintest amount of blood. “I’ve been single-handedly trying to make this work with you. I don’t want to leave you like this but you knew we were like this. You knew we were fragile. You knew what we had was delicate. I’m sorry.”

“No,” he murmured. “No, I’m sorry. I love you.”

“I know,” you replied before turning away to go pack your things and Remus left to go have some space.

The memories of your past relationship floated around you like a purposeless ghost. One that had no one to haunt besides the innocent. You missed Remus. Many times throughout your life, you contemplated many times going back to him. You knew the two of you could never make it work seriously. Not again. But you felt that if both of you really put in enough effort, the two of you could be something special. This frequenting daydream of yours was crushed after years and years of hoping when you received a letter from god-knows-who informing you that Remus had been killed in war at Hogwarts. Now, you really felt ghosted by your past. Haunted by everything.

[deepdowninmybones]

CtM Fanfic

Everything is just as ought to be

(Have a nice weekend you all!)

Chapter 3 - The Good Doctor

Late October - 14 weeks

Taking advantage of the end of the first block of lessons, Timothy decided to go home for a few days and spend some time with his family.

He would have followed his father at work, which usually meant learning more medical knowledge than he could in a week of school, he would enjoy playing with his brother and sisters and last, but not least, he would be spoiled by his mother and spent some precious time with her.

The decision had been sudden, he tried to call home the previous afternoon but no one answered. In all likelihood they were at work, never mind! He would have given them a nice surprise!

He left at dawn and after the train journey, he was greeted by the London rain.

Some bus later, he was finally at the front door of their house, cold and hungry as usual. He was confident that a nice warm shower and something to eat (he trusted in some leftovers from the fridge) would make him feel better again. At that time his mother was certainly at the Maternity Home, he couldn't expect much more.

He entered the house, took off his raincoat and left his things in the laundry room where the washing machine was running. Why is running if no one's at home?

He immediately noticed something else weird: there were partially sliced vegetables on the counter and the sliding door was open. Someone was definitely at home.

"Is anybody there?" he tried to call. No answer.

Chilled, he closed the window and then headed towards the kitchen where there was a teapot with some still steaming tea on the stove. Just what I need! He thought, pouring himself a cup. In the corner of the kitchen counter, he noticed a pack of iron tablets.

As he sipped his tea, pondering why anyone would need iron supplements, he saw two feet descending the stairs and his mother's figure looming with each step.

"Mum!" he exclaimed in surprise.

"Tim! What are you doing here?!"

He went towards her for a hug.

"I had a few days off and I thought to come check on you…but I didn't think to find you here!"

"Well" she blushed "I had a lot of things to do and…I stayed home"

To Timothy it sounded like an excuse. Weird…again.

"Mom, is there anything I can eat? I'm starving! Leftovers will be perfect!".

"Oh dear, I'll make you some toast right away! Please sit and make yourself comfortable! I guess you must be tired!"

"Just a bit."

Timothy sat down and while he waited, he was captured by watching his mother make that sandwich with all her love and care. Yes! I'm home, he thought.

His mother was radiant today and had a particularly bright smile. He realized that she seemed somehow different: the line of her hips was rounder, softer. He thought it should be a change due to age… she isn't so young anymore after all.

When she turned, his eyes fell on other details…her belly was slightly rounded too, advancing age side effects supposed. But when she handed him the plate with his toast, he found himself with her clearly enlarged breasts at his eyes level… and that, he knew, had nothing to do with the physiological changes due to age.

He paused for a moment before taking the dish, hit by a brainstorm: breast enlargement, rounded hips, rounded belly, iron tablets (for anemia), she's not at work…oh goodness… it can't be that!

"Timothy?!" his mother called him "I asked if you wanted some orange juice!"

"Sorry mom, yes please…orange juice is perfect"

He just saw her turn around to open the fridge, when she swayed a little before grabbing onto the kitchen counter. Without hesitation, he quickly stood up to hold and support her. He added dizziness to his list and easily summed things up.

"It's nothing Timmy, I just lost balance…"

"Yes, sure…come on mom, I'll take you to the settee."

"It's not necessary, really. I am fine!" she replied stubbornly.

"Mom! I know you're fine but I also know that it's better if you lie down now and rest. In your condition, rest is recommended" he told her firmly as he helped her lay down.

His mother's eyes looked at him in amazement. He smiled, and tenderly kissed her cheek, then took a seat next to her.

"How do you know? Did your father tell you?"

"No, don't worry… dad didn't say a thing. But you asking…? You've just confirmed my suspicions!"

"But how did you get it? Is it that clear?"

"You're more…well mom…there's more of you. But the very first reason is that I'm a very promising medical student!" he replied beaming.

She smiled too. It was true, he was very promising. He would become a very good doctor soon.

"I'm sorry you had to find out like this. We didn't want to give you the news over the phone, your father and I wanted to wait until you were home and do it together."

"But I messed up your plans!"

"And you're not the only one as you can see. Oh Tim…we really don't know how this happened…"

At those words, Timothy started chuckling.

"Why are you laughing now?"

"Well, a doctor and a midwife who don't know how this can happen…it's pretty fun! I always told you to be careful with all your mushy-stuff"

She was giggling too now, after all Timothy wasn't entirely wrong.

"Mom, I've always teased you about this but the truth is that I'm glad for it"

"Oh dearest…" she took his hand.

"You know… almost all my friends live very different situations at home. They come from families in which there is no dialogue, there is no love. And this also affects their lives."

"Oh Timothy…it's not easy sometimes."

"That's the point mom… it's not been easy for you as well, but you two make it work! And I believe that is a credit of what there is between you and dad. The love, the respect and the trust that exists between you two is something special… and we have grown within it, feeling loved and protected. And so it will be for him…or her…as it is for me, Angela, Teddy and May."

Turning towards his mother, he noticed that her face was streaked with tears.

"I didn't mean to have this effect on you…"

"It's a beautiful effect. Even if this makes me realize that you are really an adult now."

"That's why you're replacing me with Number Five?" joked Timothy.

"Timothy, don't say that! Nobody is replacing you! It doesn't matter how many children a mother may have, nor how old they are… each one is unique and special and in the eyes of a mother they will always be little children."

"I will allow you to still consider me your little child…but don't tell dad!"

They recognized the sound of Patrick's car parking in the driveway. The kids were home again and Timothy helped his mother slowly sit up on the couch before they entered. He hadn't asked but it was pretty obvious that his little brothers weren't still aware of the new baby.

They heard Patrick saying from outside "If you tidy your rooms, you can watch some telly" and just a few seconds later the door slammed, the three kids darted one after the other up the stairs saying "Hello mummy!".

Closing the door, Patrick announced "We are at home, darling!"

"So am I!"

"Timothy?! What a surprise!" exclaimed Patrick, side-looking at his wife.

Tim enjoyed observing the glances that his father tried to give his wife to understand if the secret was already revealed. She silently answered simply smiling and nodding. He was amused, but also fascinated by the ability his parents had to communicate even without words.

"When did you arrive?"

"Just after lunch… Well…dad" he made sure to remark that word "I think I'm going upstairs now to say hello to the kids and take a shower. I know you two need to have a talk…"

While the children upstairs celebrated Tim's return, Patrick joined Shelagh on the sofa. They looked at each other smiling.

"So you told him?"

"He actually figured it out on his own…"

"And how did he do it?"

"He says there's more of me…I didn't think I was showing already."

Patrick grinned, rested his eyes on his wife's breasts pretending to control and traced her new shape with a finger.

"So it seems…"

"Patrick!"

"What? I was just doing a quick check!"

"Is this really the moment…?"

"Clinical purpose only, I'm a doctor!…but maybe I will continue my inspection later with more personal aims"

To prevent Shelagh from arguing, he placed his lips to kiss her tenderly. They broke the kiss before it could go beyond the definition of amorous effusion.

Patrick helped her get up from the sofa and said "Come on Mrs Turner, one is down…the rest of the world's to go!".