#Please read this book its an easy read and so adorable

[tldaydreamer]

"Oh humans. Bless them, they try. "

[jaal-ama-daravv]

dissecting the mortal emmrich argument scene (all routes)

dissecting the graveyard scene dissecting the mortal romance path scene how I think an argument reconcilation scene could've went emmrich x rook cinematic (mortal)

lich version dissecting the alternate romance path dissecting the argument scene (lich path) mortal vs lich romance path emmrich x rook cinematic

Emmrich Volkarin - Dissecting the Mortal Argument Scene

welcome back dearies

lets not dally with this one and get right into it -

starting strong with emmrich reviewing his will and testament/s -

important, but not yet, so do go on -

the emphasis on will tells us alot. coming from a storyboarding background, its easy to see why the emphasis was put on will. emmrich chose mortality, and will thereofre face death head on, as will rook. but due to rook being younger than emmrich (in any capacity), emmrich states that rook will outlive him. now he hasn't said it yet, but his fear is about to rear its head. keep in mind throughout all of this that this man is scared of how much he adores you.

but in the same sentence, we've got, "You've... grown to mean much to me..." - head over heels in love, rip my heart out and serve it to you in a platter, my heart, body and soul is yours type o' love.

I just wanna shake him, oh i just wanna shake him like a bag of treats, but very aggressively. he is so obviously LYING, rook makes a comment earlier in the game about how he is a SHIT LIAR. it sounds the exact same. BUT, and I say but with a hint of 'ah -ha!', lets read between the lines -

I care for you Rook! Deeply. - man has never been down as bad as he is - emmrich has never felt love like this. But there are such years between us - shut up rn I shouldn't heap you with that burden - HERE. he knows that Rook loves him, he can feel it. I imagine between quests they hold eachother's hand as the read books together on the balcony. as they make tea. as emmrich shows rook his mothers recipes. emmrich knows rook loves him, he just doesn't realize can nor accept how much rook loves him.

bonus, BURDEN ME, Im begging you, to BURDEN ME.

DIVERGENCE

god it hurt to replay this scene 3 times

Path 1 - Please don't worry, Emmrich.

he also broke my heart by worrying because i too, love him

fuck this line. i love you but look, I get where emmrich is coming from, but no. no no no, no no. whats fair would the world to be ending and being able to spend every waking moment in eachothers arms, to spend the final moments of 'what if' craddling your insecurities and nurturing love. instead we at the end of the world, arguing, because both rook and emmrich are fucking terrified to lose eachother. something about 'being fair' to someone by 'leaving' them irks meeeeeeeeeeeeeee.

solid and appropriate response

moving on because i have nothing nice to say

get his ass

emmrich is shockingly, overthinking the concept of death. ya know, that thing that cant be soothed or mulled over, pierces his heart and shakes his core? that, thing. yes shockingly, overthinking it. i get both perspectives here. Rook just wants to be taken serously and not for their age gap to come between the love they have finally found. emmrich so scared out of his mind he's trying to avoid it entirely. if you want a really gutteral playthrough before point of no return, pick this. I did, on my blind playthrough, it was a mistake, i cried alot.

unfortunately, very valid on both statement, but also true on both statements. Emmrich is both worried about Rook and insecure about dying. because either way, he loses rook, he loses his time with her. in this line of dialogue, emmrich is vry concerned with burdening rook with his death and the grief that will follow. Rook essentially tries to calm him in the worst way possible and it escalates. im not a fan of this dialogue path at all as the "at your age" comment is so out of pocket.

Path 2 - I mean something to you!

if you were to of told me that the purple rook option is the 'nicest' in these scenarios, I would...not believe you at all. It's still painful, but it's not an 'argument?'

strong start ngl

mans immediately defensive, but his tone of voice isn't raised like in the other scenarios. its more poised with care through it, more 'ugh, yes, i care about you, but this is about death'

in this dialogue path rook attemps to 'waylay' emmrich, aka, distract him and change the subject to something nicer, more comforting. though unfortnately, for people with crippling anxiety, nothing calms the mind when its in black and white mode.

eh, not what I would've gone with saying rook but ya know. eve before a battle, tensions high. still not great

emmrich wants to discuss being a burden to rook and rook is just not having it, im kinda into it.

again rook is trying to waylay emmrich into realising that he is overthinking things. however, to emmrich, this is real, rook may as well be dying in his arms rn. thats how real his fears are. we think back to emmrich being a child and losing his parents in a collapsed building accident. its likely he was there, and survived.

hence why it is so very important that we remember that his romance confirmation is the question, what would my parents want for me? and the answer is HAPPY WITH SOMEONE WHO CARES ABOUT YOU.

he is so terrfieid of death, and you and I both know, that when you have such a fear, it is amplified by 14747% when it is someone you truly care for. let alone the type of connection these soulmates have.

emmrich desperately pleading to talk about being a burden to rook, and rook is still just going, 'no', youre my burden now.

wee woo, a winner in my books because rook is not insulting his very existence or dismissing emmrich.

rook knows that emmrich is scared and would rather talk to him about being SCARED, instead of him being a burden because she fucking loves him and would never leave him.

rook is just as scared as emmrich but in this path, is trying to level with him. this is probably the one path where it concludes and I dont have a clear answer on who said the worst shit. i dont think any of them did, it was just riddled with concern, and a lack of communication.

Path 3 - Love scares you.

Rook pointing out the obvious. blunt and to the point. I do love that Rook is able to identify this straight away

Emmrich, taken aback by the comment by Rook, because it's the truth. he is scared because he loves rook. both by actually loving her and by how much he loves her.

"I can't... at my age" Is what this line is meant to be.

But once again, and we have discovered in previous posts, Emmrich has never considered himself 'worthy' of this type of love. And now that he has the love he has craved for decades, he considers himself too old. most likely due to his belief ssystem morphing over time to, "if it hasnt happened by now, it never will" probably in his 30's. Thats almost 20 years of doubt. We know Emmrich has been in relationships and involved with others since then, but nothing that even comes close to what Rook and Emmrich have. Keep in mind as well that Emmrich hasn't formed a connection with anyone in several years and has solely focused on work (i.e., lichdom) because what else do you do when you have given up?

straight to the point again

reiterating that this is a hard topic for him - kindness in this situation would desecalate emmrich and calm his mind, but unfortunately the end of the world takes no prisoners

man is terrified of love and the grief and vulnerability that embodies it

ouch

ouch

Rook's defensiveness and frustration reaches an all time high. rook wants the love of her life to tell her that he loves her, and emmrich doesn't want to burden his love with the grief that will embody her for the rest of her days. rook walks away feeling defeated, with a hole in her heart. emmrich is left with his overthinking thoughts, and most likely spirals.

Conclusion

In their facial expressions, and I have slowed them down to each frame per second whilst analysing, and both Emmrich and Rook share the same process of emotions after Rook's final statement.

Both Emmrich and Rook start out with a cross look on their face, eyebros tilted, eyes squinted, portraying anger, which is covering defensiveness, which is a defense mechanism for being vulnerable. After Rook says their final statement, this line is what 'pulls them out' of their defensive trances, but its too late, the damage has been done. Their facial expressions switch to a more, 'oh, oh that was just said', it turns to regret. the over arching theme of the game. they regret what they said, and their pride wont let them budge rn. the argument scene is important to the romance considering what happens next in the game.

"We'll talk when we get home, Emmrich. I promise." (the reconciliation line before fighting ghil)

hit me like a frieght train that did when i found out we were in the fade for weeks. emmrich, canonically, cries alone and has cold sweats at night when he is upset. do with that information what you will. it definitely happened when rook was gone. Hence why it takes Rook dissapearing in the fade for several weeks for their walls to collapse completely.

god fight, stuck in the fade, emmrich meticulously searching for rook, crafting the fake dagger, pulling them out.

At the end of the scene, Emmrich looks frustrated and devastated. the type of facial expression where it is clear he wish that conversation had gone differently.

Emmrich has low self-esteem, there is no simpler way to put it. This is apparent in the way he holds himself, in his mannerisms, and the way he reacts to rook expressing romantic interest in him. As two examples, consider the date with Emmrich, "apart from the compliment of your interest?", and in two flirt dialogue lines, he responds stating that he is surprised rook has shown interest in him. he wants this love SO BADLY, but he is so scared especially with how much death is around them. but emmrich is braver than he believes. it just takes, almost losing rook for him to embrace it.

phew, what a rollercoaster. ill have the mortal romance scene break down for you in coming days ♥

[mattslolita]

she - c. & m. sturniolo ( 001. )

in which . . . the new girl down the street catches the attention of two brothers who grow infatuated with her.

( ghostface!chris x black!fem!reader x ghostface!matt )

warnings ; black!bimbo!fem!reader , ghostface!chris , ghostface!matt , obsessive!chris & matt , blood , gore , knives , mentions of death , eventual smut , threesome

"o𝒏𝒆, 𝒕𝒘𝒐, 𝒚𝒐𝒖'𝒓𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒈𝒊𝒓𝒍 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒊 𝒘𝒂𝒏𝒕."

pt. 1, 2, 3, 4 💌

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨ ʚɞ ୧⋆ ˚｡⋆⋆ ˚｡⋆୨ ʚɞ ୧⋆ ˚｡⋆⋆ ˚｡⋆୨ ʚɞ ୧⋆ ˚｡⋆⋆ ˚｡⋆୨ ʚɞ ୧⋆ ˚｡⋆⋆ ˚｡⋆୨ ʚɞ ୧⋆

it all went downhill in the small town of somerville when you moved in — down the street, the third house on the right side of the street. you'd been carrying boxes up towards the front door, your pretty pink bow holding back your dark hair in a high ponytail. you beamed, dimples accentuating as your brown skin glimmered in the sunlight that casted down on you.

you were unaware of the lingering eyes of two brothers, their gazes locked on you for what felt like forever. it wasn't until your eyes had unintentionally found theirs, your lips curling up into a soft smile as you lifted one hand in the air, the wind blowing past your mini skirt as you waved your freshly manicured nails at the two.

matt sturniolo stood dumbfounded for a few moments, but chris sturniolo was quick to wave back ever so slightly, a grin spreading across his freckled face as he licked his lips. matt eventually snapped out of his trance, waving back to you. you were a little confused on why they had stared at you for so long, your big, brown eyes widening curiously as you stared at them for a bit longer. you bat your long eyelashes before humming, continuing to move the boxes into your new room.

and that's how it started.

that day, matt and chris just knew they had to have you — and they would do anything to have you, at all costs. they brainstormed, planned, and came up with the perfect solution. they followed every path you took throughout the town, found out every little detail about you and what things you liked and disliked. it was quite easy to do really, you were so unsuspecting, didn't have a single clue about their intentions. you always pranced around with a bubbly smile, batting your eyelashes and saying your 'pleases' and 'thank yous'. they found it adorable, really — you were so clueless. matt and chris had done everything in their power to perfect their plan, making sure nobody got in the way of it.

one night, you were laying back in your back, a book your sight of interest as your wide eyes roved over the pages with inked paragraphs. you were so nose deep in the book, you had hardly looked up from it.

( if you did, you would've noticed chris sturniolo peering into your room, from the side of your window, in the bushes — even doing something as simple as reading a book, you looked oh so beautiful in your element. )

you were so wrapped up in the book's events, that the ringing of your landline had almost gone unnoticed by you — it rang eerily, causing you to gasp slightly as you slammed the book down, looking around your room in a startled manner.

your eyes swiftly traveled to the landline on your bedside desk, the phone still ringing — you let out a sigh of relief, hand on your chest as you picked the phone up from its stand.

at first, nothing but silence was on the other line — you could've sworn you heard breathing, almost like the person was waiting for you to speak. "hello?"

"hello."

it caught you off guard — the voice was deep, almost unnatural but something about the unnerving voice had an attraction to it. whoever it was was completely unfamiliar to you, yet you found yourself fully intrigued by the prospect of it.

"um, who's this?" your voice squeaks, nails tapping against your bare thighs in anticipation.

"i'm whoever you want me to be," the voice purrs back huskily, causing you to bite your lip as your eyes widen intently, "what's your name?"

you knew it was wrong, telling a complete stranger your name — you had no idea who this person was! yet against your better judgement, curiosity gets the best of you as you lean forward, lips curling into a small smile. "i'm y/n."

"y/n," he repeats, a small chuckle sounding from the other line, "pretty name for i bet an even prettier girl."

this makes you giggle slightly — it's music to chris's ears, he could listen to the sweet sounds for the rest of his days. and soon, he would.

"so stranger," you giggle unsuspectingly, toying with the phone's cord around your fingers, "why is it that you're calling a random stranger like me this late at night?"

"i've got a question for you, pretty girl," he says into the receiver, posing your interest as you hum, "what's your favorite scary movie?"

───

you hadn't told anyone about the phone call you got that night — you especially didn't want to startle your parents on your first day of senior year, because you felt ashamed.

see, you enjoyed the conversation with the stranger, much more thank you should have. you liked scary movies, a lot. it was wrong of you to be talking to someone you don't know, and it was even all the more embarrassing to find yourself waiting for yet another phone call from this mysterious man.

you were as clueless as the day they had seen you when you moved in — your eyes darted around the unfamiliar campus, nose scrunched in concentration as you tried to figure out were you needed to go and where your classes were.

you hadn't been paying any attention when you collided with a hard chest — a small gasp leaves your lips, apologies ready to spill from you as you timidly scooted back from them.

"i'm so sorry! i'm new here, and-"

"s'okay, darling," a voice tells you, his hand going to your waist as he steadies you upright, "y'got no idea where you're goin', do ya?"

you look up and meet four pair of blue eyes staring down at you, grins plastered on their faces as you examine their features — the one who had been speaking to you had middle parted hair, tousled across his forehead messily. he wore a plain white tee, a silver horse chain dangling from his neck as a few rings littered his hand. you were nothing short of mesmerized by him, and you felt your cheeks grow hot under his gaze.

the other brother looked exactly identical, save for the freckles that were scattered across his face — his sharp cheekbones were prominent as he licked his lips and grinned down at you, causing you to smile shyly. a beanie covered the unruly mop of brown curls on his head and a silver chain was on his wrist. both brothers were so handsome, and you had only just stopped staring once the brother with the beanie cleared his throat.

an embarrassed giggle leaves your lips as you hold the paper to your chest. "s-sorry again, that's my bad. i'm-"

"y/n," the ring-clad brother finishes quickly, causing your eyebrows to furrow as his brother nudges him slightly, "yeah, heard a lil' about you when you got to the office this morning. i'm matt."

"an' i'm chris," his younger brother states, nodding towards you, "let me see that, yeah?"

"sure," you squeak, holding the paper out to him for him to take.

matt watches as you readjust the pink skirt you're wearing, his eyes then roving over your breasts that sit firmly with the white, cropped shirt you're wearing along with it. like that day, a pink bow accessorizes your dark hair that's pulled back into a bun, showing your pretty dark skin against the daylight. gosh, matt could stare and stare at you for hours.

"alright kid, looks like y'got business math, spanish, an' english with me an' matt," chris announces with a grin, handing your paper back to you.

"you wan' spend the day with us, angel?" matt asks you with a grin, causing your cheeks to warm up.

the nickname catches you off guard, but you wanted to hear it fall from his lips over and over again. "mhm," you nod up at him, eyes wide as you beam.

"good girl," chris purrs, casually throwing his arm over your shoulder as he begins leading the way. matt walks with you on the other side, eyes occasionally darting to you.

it should've raised eyebrows and you should've questioned how quick matt and chris wanted to keep you under their wing — the way from that day forward, they monitored everything you did and everywhere you went.

you were oblivious to the obvious obsession they had blossoming for you.

( kiwi's corner 🥝💌 )

new series, yeahhhh😫😫. had this hoe BREWINGGG okay like i have everything planned out, i just need to write it ! this is based on a dream i had ab matt & chris and i couldn't get it out of my head & it was making me a horny mess. 🤭 anyways angels, i hope you all enjoy this! i love you forever muah, thank you so much for 3k. 💌

taglist🥝 : @muwapsturniolo @thenickgirl @luverboychris @cottoncandyswisherz @chanelles-world

@sturnprime @middlepartmatt @chrissturniolossidehoe @sturniqloo @chaossturns

@fairyrcts @mbbsgf @sturnsxplr-25 @moonk1ss3d @oliviasturniolo21

@wh4re4chratt @cyberdre4ms @angvlarabella @pvssychicken @lovesturni0l0s

@delilahsturniolo @venusxsturnio @chrissystur @sweetangelgirl7 @wovenribbons

@chrispotatos @chrissystur @jetaimevous @55sturn @yn-ws

[honeytonedhottie]

how to be a whole new student this school year (A MASTERPOST)⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🎀📔

HOW TO BE BETTER THIS SCHOOL YEAR ;

TAKE ADVANTAGE. take advantage of extra credit opportunities, make sure to advocate for urself and take advantage in any way that u can. by simply doing ur homework you'll have a much better grade in the overall class which gives u wiggle room to make a mistake. but if ur slacking off on ur homework, ignoring extra credit opportunities AND doing bad on tests then ur basically setting urself up for failure. and by doing the opposite then ur setting urself up for success.

something i've noticed (and im guilty of this too sometimes) is that i spend so much time making my notes aesthetically pleasing that i forget to actually go over them which defeats the whole purpose of notes. theres nothing wrong with having fun and creative adorable notes that spark joy and happiness but PLEASE actually use them, trust me you'll love them more…💬🎀

furthermore understand that getting good grades isn't as daunting and difficult as u may have imagined. just remember to always do ur homework, take advantage of extra credit, projects are an easy test grade, and get things done as fast as u possibly can.

FIND WAYS TO STAY MOTIVATED ;

the best way to stay motivated is through ROMANTICIZATION. when u learn to enjoy going to school, your going to be motivated to do well in school. because school is so IMPORTANT not only for ur education but also ur future. so take school seriously. and if u wanna become an academic weapon for the long term the best thing u can do is learn to make the best of, and enjoy it. some ways to romanticize school include ->

♡ create a school playlist that embodies the school vibes that u wanna have : i have lots of new jeans in my school playlist : i rly like the songs cookie, ditto and hurt for when im at school

♡ creating a study blog or study group to hold urself accountable in a fun and healthy way

♡ ur appearance : if u go to a school where u dont have to wear uniforms, i strongly recommend getting dressed and getting ready meticulously bcuz when u look good, u feel good, and therefore u perform well. if u do wear uniform, wear accessories or hairstyles that make u feel and look pretty. i wear leg warmers with my school uniform and my signature is hair clips and barrettes.

♡ read at school : i always walk around with a book bcuz i like to read a lot but if reading isnt ur thing, listen to a podcast about something that interests u (i rly like true crime)

♡ take pride in ur notes : invest in cute stationary! i swear, sometimes i dont feel like studying but since my stationary is super cute and pink i get motivated to study just by looking at it lol. invest in quality stationary that u love and make ur notes look pleasing to you, and also effective. effective + aesthetically pleasing.

♡ doing homework/studying in the library : or at least changing the scenery and location that u do ur homework from time to time. do yk how boring it is to do work in the same place every single day? give urself a break from the places u see all the time and spend time studying or doing homework outside of ur home. in a cafe or in the library, inside or outside, just change the scenery a bit

♡ start a video diary : i started a little video diary with my friends so that we can remember our school memories. i just think its rly cute and a great way to bond with ur friends, make memories, and romanticize school.

try and formulate a PASSION for learning as a way to cultivate the school romanticization attitude. be passionate to learn and be an academic weapon…💬🎀

CHANGE UP ROUTINES ;

in my next point i talk about the importance of routines but its also important to change little things about ur routine. dont go and change the whole structure of ur school routine but make sure to add little changes to spice things up and not keep urself like a hamster on a wheel. i find when i do this i just feel a lot better and its easier to romanticize.

MAKE A REGIMEN ;

make a pretty basic routine to stick to, to make sure that u balance school and personal life. having a routine can make falling into line and following through with tasks a lot easier. its easier to do things personally when u MICROMANAGE urself. at least from my own personal experience.

ABOUT STUDYING ;

every single day study (at least for a little bit) ofc this will vary depending on ur personal schedule but the goal is to do a little bit of studying everyday, and if that isnt possible, designating 3 days a week to a thorough studying session.

the way that i divide my time with a study session is 40 minutes of work time and 20 minutes of downtime. during the 40 minutes of work time u need to LOCK IN. lock in on whatever assignment needs to be complete or lock in on whatever material it is that ur studying. ofc this'll differ between all subjects but dont study all subjects in one night!! thats ambitious, but i find it'll just burn u out so stick to studying for 2-3 subjects max.

HOW TO STUDY WITHOUT BURNING URSELF OUT ;

♡ get off ur device. literally put the phone down. 9 times out of 10 the burn out that ur feeling is just the dopamine detox and laziness

arguably, the most important aspect to prevent burn out is ENERGY management. when ur burnt out u can literally feel ur energy tank on zero, so regardless of all the study techniques, however effective they may be, if u can't even muster up the energy to do them then they're useless…💬🎀

♡ get PRODUCTIVE rest. what is productive rest? scrolling endlessly on tiktok is NOT productive rest. productive rest is actually letting ur mind and body REST. like, taking a nap, indulging in self care, or whatever relaxes u.

STAY ORGANIZED ;

find a tool and stay ORGANIZED. i personally use notion. and on my school notion i create a space for me to write my own notes, a calendar to put important academic dates, resources like passwords and logins, and a to-do list where i can put down some of my assignments. keeping everything organized is so so important. its non digital as well, make sure to keep ur desktop space organized, ur supplies and physical notes organized also. the more organized the better.

SOME POSTS FOR RESOURCES ;

how to get good grades without excessive studying - by yours truly

ways to romanticize school - @4theitgirls

studying methods + tips - by yours truly

youtube channels to help u out this semester - @4theitgirls

creating a study schedule and routine - @prettieinpink

how to study like rory gilmore - @itgirldiary

my studying plans as an accounting major - @iluvprettygirls

citation resources - @workitgurl

how to get good grades without excessive studying - by me

khanacademy.org

coursera.org

annualreviews.org

google scholar - research

google calendar - organization

notion - organization

[familyvideostevie]

time you will not spend alone

joel miller x fem!reader, 18+ mdni romance at the end of the world is this: flowers, lazy nights in bed after long days, and savoring every moment | or, joel makes you something. jackson!joel au, fem!reader, fluff, maybe a bit cheesy but idgaf, ellie cameo cause i can't do a damn thing without her, tommy gets some page time here too, smut (riding, unprotected p in v sex, some finger sucking lol), tenderness, gift giving | 5.7k a/n: i think this is the last part of the just and just as series for the foreseeable future. thank you for reading about this little au and these two lovebirds! i adore them. thank you @frannyzooey and @macfrog for your eyes and support on this. and thank you everyone else for being patient. <3

Spring sweeps into the valley seemingly overnight. The peaks remain snow-capped but the bare branches of trees between the evergreens begin to bud. Chilly mornings lose their bite and frost turns to dew and every day there is more light.

You've always thought Jackson looks its best in winter, but it's a damn sight to see as life and color return. And the latter is your favorite part -- the rolling hills outside the walls and the forest patrol paths are dotted and then overflowing with flowers.

It makes you feel more alive. Patrol isn't a freezing ordeal anymore -- it's an opportunity to see the remaining beauty in the world.

Today's shift is short and easy but you find yourself lingering, running your hands through pine needles and turning your face to the sun. Your horse is happy to munch on a patch of grass in a clearing just off the main trail, but your patrol partner is less than impressed.

"Are you serious?" Ellie moans. "You're stopping again? What the fuuuuuuuuck."

She sags in the saddle. The pout on her lips makes her look like a kid sent to bed without supper rather than an almost-twenty-year-old forced to spend some extra minutes in the fresh air. Shimmer has no problem chewing on some weeds despite her rider's moaning.

"Let me enjoy the sun," you say. "When you get older you'll appreciate the little things, too."

You hop off your horse and Ellie sighs loudly.

"Jesus, you're not that old," she mutters. "Seriously, what are you doing?"

You sweep your arms around you, gesturing at the meadow. "These flowers are nice," you tell her, pointedly. She adjusts the rifle slung over her shoulder. "I think I'm going to pick some and bring them home."

She snorts. "Oh, is Joel suddenly into flowers?"

You ignore her bait and crouch, gaze sweeping over the array of colors in front of you. You tried to learn the names of flowers years ago when you found a book on them in an old bookstore but they never stuck. Purples, pinks, and yellows, large petals and small ones, delicate yet hardy to survive the world past its end.

Joel isn't a fussy man. Young fathers don't get to be, and anyone alive these days sheds that impulse just as quickly. He's happy to wake up every day with you by his side, his kid in the garage out back and walls around everything he loves, keeping it all safe.

It makes it both easy and hard to please him -- you want to give him everything but he seems to want nothing. A perfect paradox, a puzzle to solve. 

God, you love him. You love spring, you love Joel. Everything feels good.

So, you start to gather stems, snapping them at their bases, humming as you work.

"How do you choose which ones to pick?"

"Fuck," you gasp, careening forward onto one palm and looking over your shoulder. Ellie is off her horse and much closer than before, standing directly behind you. "Jesus, you're stealthy."

She shrugs, her smirk a pleased slash across her face. "You're oblivious as fuck."

You roll your eyes at her.

"Seriously," Ellie says, crossing her arms. She jerks her chin at the small bouquet you've got in one hand. "How do you make it look so nice?"

"Oh, so we've moved on from the making-fun-of-me part of this?"

She crouches next to you, elbows on her knees.

"I, uh -- " Her cheeks go pink, freckles standing out against her blush. "Dina likes flowers."

You bump her shoulder with yours. "I'm going to be so nice and not tease you."

"Fuck off," she scoffs, tucking her smile into her shoulder.

It's quick work. Ellie follows your lead, balances out the blooms she picks with some leafy weeds. She ties them together with one of the minimum four spare hairbands she has on her person at all times -- bits of cloth, occasionally a rare unused elastic from before if she's found some on patrol.

"Isn't it kinda shitty?" she muses, nimble fingers turning her bouquet this way and that to admire it. "We're killing them. The flowers, I mean."

"Little late to have a conscience about killing," you say lightly. The two rabbits she pulled from Jackson snares hang from her saddle. You've seen her in action, too -- gun raised, hands steady, blood splattered across her cheek. It's not an accusation, far from it. Violence is a language you both speak, one she's known for most of her still-short life.

She rolls her eyes, every bit a teenager. "Whatever."

You sigh. "You're right, though," you say. "There were whole shops dedicated to this before. Selling flowers, making bouquets and centerpieces and all that shit."

She probably knows this, but she lets you describe it. Ellie soaks up bits of the old world like it will materialize before her if she listens hard enough. Joel says it was much worse when she was younger, right after they settled into Jackson. She wanted details about everything and watched every movie she could get her hands on. You think she was satisfying her curiosity, sure, but also that she was trying to understand him better -- but didn't know how to say so.

"Weird," she mutters. "And you just...bought them for other people?"

"Or yourself." You pat her shoulder and stand. Your horse tries to nibble on your flowers before you haul yourself back in the saddle. "It was just a nice thing to do, I guess."

"Killing something to make someone else happy," Ellie says with a dry laugh. She tucks her bouquet in the crook of her arm once she's back in the saddle. "I guess everyone does that these days."

It's absurd when she puts it that way, but it's true. You've all got blood on your hands. You would kill for this girl, for Joel, for pretty much anyone in Jackson. And you have.

The flowers are for Joel, they're for your house, they're for you. Something beautiful to bring home alongside your dirt stains and scarred hands, your haunted eyes and nightmares. No one is spared those.

It's only mid-morning by the time you get back to the wall. You and Ellie left at dawn, short sticks drawn for the early shift. She leaves you in the stables with a mock salute and a shout of thanks, practically jogging to Dina's to give her the flowers.

You're untacking your horse when you hear familiar laughter, a deep chuckle and Ellie's faint indignant protest.

"Mornin'," Joel says from behind you. "Was hopin' to catch you at the gate."

"Can you hold these?"

You blindly extend the hand with the flowers. His fingers carefully extract the bouquet and you return to brushing out your horse.

"Does this have somethin' to do with Ellie runnin' out of her with flowers of her own?"

"Never let anyone say you're unobservant, Joel Miller."

He snickers. You leave your horse with a final pat on the neck and thanks for a job well done.

When you face Joel, he looks tired -- he's been pulling extra long days replacing windows and roof tiles after the winter's damage. God knows that man never seems fully rested, but it's a little worse when the seasons change.

He's told you time and time again that standing two stories off the ground is a hell of a lot safer than fighting some Infected on patrol, but you still worry. Just like you know he worries about you beyond the walls, how he's a little tenser whenever you're not in sight, whenever he hasn't seen Ellie for a few days ‘cause they're both busy. It's just how he loves. It's how you both love.

You make no move to take the flowers from him, instead brushing some sawdust from his shoulder.

"Did you have a job already?" you ask.

"Small one. Fixin' a crooked over mailbox." He looks pointedly at his full fist. "You gonna explain now?"

"They're for you."

Joel blinks once, twice, brows furrowing like you're speaking a different language. Maybe a few years ago you'd start to feel self-conscious, unsure of your romantic gesture and insecure in his reaction. But now, as fully in love and connected to this man as you are, you lean in.

"If you're too manly to carry flowers through town --"

You make to take them from him but he snaps out of his daze and wraps an arm around your shoulders, pulling you to his chest in a smooth motion.

He also holds the bouquet in the air and out of reach.

"Hey, now," he says. "Hands off. These ain't your flowers."

"I picked 'em," you remind him, poking him in the ribs for good measure. 

He flinches just a little but doesn't move. His embrace is warm and familiar and you sink into it. "Gettin' romantic," he mutters and brings the flowers back down to eye level to examine them.

"I'm just trying to catch up to you," you say into his jacket. He huffs and his palm rubs a slow line up and down your arm.

You wiggle out of his embrace to shoulder your pack.

"I am pretty romantic," he muses.

It's true. Even if he's joking and even if no one but you gets to see it, Joel has always made sure you feel loved. Courtship and romance look different these days, but it still comes naturally to him -- loving. Dinner dates, jewelry, and trips to the airport have become a battered paperback, a sharpened knife, and bloody knuckles, but it rings just as true. He loves you and he loves his family the best way he knows how – by keeping you all safe.

And you do your best to convey the same thing. You tell him, of course, but you also mend his shirts and chop wood when his back is acting up, and you look after his kid like she's your own.

Joel deserves to know that he can receive all that he gives, too – the protection, the tenderness, the beauty. Moments of softness and rest where he knows he’s taken care of, thought of, that he matters beyond the things he can do for everyone else.

So, you also do things like bring him flowers.

Sometimes you feel like it will never be enough. You will never have enough time to show him how much he means to you, how he's saved you, how important and cherished and loved he is. How good he is.

Joel reaches for your face with his free hand. He traces the line of your cheekbone with his thumb and smirks when you inhale sharply. Another patrol returns and the stables are suddenly louder and more crowded than before. If you're both free for the rest of the day, you want to drag him up to your bedroom and spend the hours there. You want to show him, for the millionth time, how much you love him.

"Okay, Mr. Pretty Romantic," you say, grabbing his hand and tangling your fingers together. "Let's go home."

___

Joel is hiding something from you.

The flowers last for a week and you watch him eye them and smile every time he enters the kitchen.

But after they droop and go in the compost pile, something shifts. Something subtle, sure, but you spend most of your waking hours looking for or at Joel, so you notice.

He starts keeping his workshop door closed. Normally you'll sit and watch him work, or he'll teach you a few chords here and there on the guitars he's making, but your lessons move to the porch and the upstairs hallway loses the scent of wood glue and stain.

In fact, he actively steers you away from the room altogether. He's all just needs a deep clean and it's messy, is all. It's not rocket science -- he's making something for you, clearly. But giving him a hard time is too fun to pass up.

One night, you and Ellie wait at the bottom of the stairs. There's a dinner and movie night in the old church and you're taking the opportunity to make it a family outing.

"You coming?" you holler up the stairs. You hear the door creak open.

"Gimme a second," he calls back down.

"Jesus," you mutter. You tap the side of Ellie’s sneaker with your boot. "You know anything about that?"

Honesty is important between all of you, but you know Joel and Ellie need to have their secrets. There is too much tangled history between them for you to understand it all. It's important to you that they have a relationship all their own, even if it means they scheme.

Ellie is examining her switchblade with intense focus. "I might," she says with a smirk. "He's a lovesick loser, I'll tell you that."

You lean on the banister and raise your eyebrows. "Do you remember when you asked me how to embroider so you could put Dina's name on her jacket?"

The knife swings closed with a snick and she rolls her eyes at you, cheeks pink.

"Shit, dude," she says. "Why do I tell you anything?"

"She liked the flowers, though, didn't she?"

Ellie crosses her arms and smiles at whatever memory she's seeing in her mind. "Yeah," she says. "She did. Jesse gave me so much shit, though --"

The door upstairs closes and Joel's heavy footfalls cut her off.

"Finally," you grumble. He trods down the stairs, arms half in his jacket when he catches sight of the two of you. "Are you hiding state secrets in there?"

"What the fuck does that mean?" Ellie asks.

"Might be," is all he says. He's got that twinkle in his eye that means mischief but he looks proud of himself. You can let him have this, whatever this is. You trust him and you'll find out eventually.

"Alright," you say, pushing off the banister and heading for the door. "You're going to breathe toxic fumes with the door closed."

"No, seriously," Ellie says. "What kind of secrets would a state be keeping?"

"Ain't nothin' toxic in there," he says lightly. He bumps Ellie's shoulder with his. "C'mon."

She throws her hands up in the air. "You know, it's shitty when you ignore me."

"Did you hear somethin'?" Joel says to you.

You shake your head, swallowing your laughter. "No," you say. "Nothing."

"Assholes." She pushes past you and down the steps onto the street. "I'm going to make sure there are no mashed potatoes left when you get there."

__

You don't mind letting Joel do whatever he's up to in all of his spare moments. It does mean you have more time to yourself, so you pick up some extra wall shifts.

And when one of those shifts is with Tommy? Well, you can't help but needle him a little bit about it all.

"Do you know what your brother is up to?" you ask him.

The wind today carries some lingering winter bite, so you've got the collar of your coat pulled up around your ears. Tommy’s hair whips around his face when he raises his eyebrows at you.

"Gonna have to be more specific," he says. "My brother is always up to some shit."

"I think he'd say the same thing about you."

Tommy laughs. He's got the reputation for being the more easy-going of the Millers, but you know he's more a match for Joel than most think. Out in the world, they work as one, silent and deadly, always in step when it counts. They still speak a language all their own with just a look and you see so much of them in each other when you pay attention.

"Well, I learned it all from him," he says. He adjusts his grip on the rifle and sighs. "I happen to know what you're talkin' 'bout, though."

"Is he just telling everyone but me?"

"Nah," Tommy scoffs. "Asked me and Ellie for help, s'all. And you know he tells that girl everythin'."

You both smile for a moment at your fondness for them.

Tommy clears his throat. "Does it bother you? Him keepin' a secret?"

You know Tommy won't let your answer get back to Joel. He's asking as your friend, as your kind-of brother. He's asking because he cares.

A patrol crests the hill, green flag waving in the air. They whistle and shout for the gate to be opened. 

You step closer to Tommy so he can hear you. "No," you say. "I just like to gossip."

"Don't I know it," he chuckles. "You two are the eyes and ears of this damn town. Knowin' everything."

"Except what happens in my own home," you tease. 

He shrugs. "You'll like it, if that helps," he adds.

"I know I will."

You look out at the world beyond the wall and smile to yourself. 

Joel has made you a few things over the years. He works wonders with his hands all the time: Beautiful, intricate carvings for the house, for Ellie, for new babies in town. The wall of guitars, not to mention the ones he's made for kids to learn on in school. You're better at sewing than he is, but he's pretty damn good – fixing up pillowcases and blankets and clothes of all kinds. Joel is a craftsman.

Hands that hold you can also pull a trigger, punch until there's nothing left, and craft a work of art.

And he knows you. He pays attention -- there is a reason behind everything he does. If he's making you something, you know you'll love it.

"Strange, ain’t it?" Tommy says. You turn to him, a question on your face. "World ended and here we all are, happy. Makin' shit for each other. Gosspin'."

You sigh. “Took a lot to get here.”

“Damn right,” he says with a long whistle. “Lotta shit behind us.”

“Do you ever regret it?” you ask. 

Tommy considers your words. You two talk plenty, but you’ve never really spoken about the past. Joel tells you whatever you want to hear about the years before you knew him, so you’ve got a pretty good picture of their lives after the outbreak.

"Can I tell you somethin’?” Tommy asks. You nod. "Alright. I – I never thought I'd see my brother this happy again. And I wish every damn day that Sarah was here to see it. To know him this way, to meet Maria. To know you and Ellie."

Joel has said the same thing before and it’s an honor greater than you can ever explain.

"When I saw him and that girl a few years ago, I thought --" Tommy clears his throat. "I thought maybe he’d made it through all the shit we did. And I was right. She brought him through it. And now he’s here, doin’ stable life shit we dreamed about before."

"Ellie is a force," you say, a little surprised to find your voice watery. The love between Ellie and Joel is fierce and powerful, evident to anyone who witnesses it. They would do anything for each other, even though they're mending.

"She is," he says. "And so are you.” He sighs and runs a hand through his hair. “Shit, I don’t know where I’m goin’ with this. Point is – seein' him love you, too, shows me he’s through it. He's alive again, you know? And I’d do all the shit we did over again just to get us all here. So, no. I don’t regret it."

It’s nothing you haven’t thought before, but the words work their way into your heart and sit there, heavy and warm.

“Damn,” you say. You swallow and give him a wide smile. "If you keep going, Tommy Miller, I will start crying and that would embarrass us both."

He laughs and blinks a few times. You join in, wiping your eyes.

"Alright, I won't," he says. "Jesus, all you did was ask what he's doin' in that workshop."

You clap him on the shoulder. "I won't tell anyone you started blubbering on duty."

He snorts. "Ain't that generous of you.”

__

Days pass. A week. You almost forget about Joel's project because he spends less and less time in the workshop and more on tasks around town as the days get longer. You're both busy -- chopping wood, planting bulbs for the fall, helping de-shed the horses. There's always work to be done.

After a particularly long day on your feet, you come out of the bathroom wrapped in a towel to find he's gotten home while you were in the shower.

"Hey, stranger," you say. You're mostly dry but some water drips down your back and you shiver. Joel is leaning against the headboard on top of the sheets without his shirt, reading whatever book he's onto now.

"Didn't hear me come in?" he asks. He sets his volume aside and pulls off his glasses.

"I was too busy coming back to life under some hot water." He probably heard you singing off-key to some long-lost song stuck in your head for the millionth time. "And you're quiet as hell, Joel."

He shrugs.

You just look at each other, the intimate gaze of two people who know every inch of each other and never tire of it.

The sleep pants he wears to bed this time of year are lightweight, thin enough that you can see the outline of him from here. His stomach is soft where he's bent at the waist and the trail of hair above his waistband is dark, darker than the rest of what's on his chest.

The golden expanse of his skin just begs to be touched, so you make your way over to him in your towel. He makes room for you to perch on the edge of the bed, the bare skin of your thigh pressing into his pants. His palm rests on your knee.

"I haven't seen much of you lately," you say softly. "’Cause of that damn thing you're working on."

His fingers press into your skin.

"Ain't patience a virtue, or something like that?"

"Whatever magic you're working better be worth waiting for," you tease.

Joel's hand resumes its path up your leg and he smirks.

"I can work some magic right now," he says.

You laugh, throwing your head back as his fingertips edge under the towel.

"That was awful," you say. "I should get dressed in all of my layers right now and go sleep on the couch."

You pull away from his touch so you can straddle him, your towel only held on by one hand at your breasts.

Joel snickers. "But then I wouldn't be able to do this."

Nimble fingers find your cunt between your spread legs and you gasp a laugh, one hand on his shoulder to balance you in his lap.

"Smooth," you manage. His other hand tugs on the towel and you release it, your slightly damp skin breaking out into goosebumps in the air of the bedroom.

Joel drags his lips between your breasts and you feel his smile.

"Christ," he says. "You comin' outta there in just a towel and you expect me to go to sleep?"

He pulls his fingers from you and frames your face with both hands to drag it down to his in a lazy, thorough kiss, like he's savoring each moment.

His tongue traces the seam of your lips and you let him in readily, arms wrapping around his shoulders as you grind down on the hardness you can feel through his pants.

"I've missed you," you say, dragging your tongue along down his jaw. His fingertips press into your bare hips hard enough to bruise, but it's a grounding touch rather than an urgent one. You want to take your time because you have missed him, and you think he feels the same way.

"Sorry, sweetheart," Joel groans, dragging your lips back to his. "It'll be worth it."

You pull back to look him in the eyes. The hazel-grey is almost totally taken over by his pupil, but his gaze softens when you cup his cheek and smile.

"I know," you say, and mean it. Naked in his lap in your bedroom, you mean it. You always mean it. You always trust him.

Joel kisses you once, twice, and you pull on his lower lip with your teeth when he pulls away. His nostrils flare and before you can tug his cock from his pants, he holds two fingers out to you.

You laugh, circling his wrist and bringing the digits past your lips. You swirl your tongue around them and really take your time with it, laving at his knuckles before releasing them with a pop.

His cock twitches beneath you and he huffs.

"You're an easy man to please, Joel Miller," you tell him, tugging down his pants and letting his shaft spring free. You stroke him root to tip and he hisses.

"Nah," he manages. "It's ‘cause it's you."

He follows his words with a circle of your clit from his spit-slick fingers.

"See?" you gasp. "Romantic."

It's a bit crowded, his hand rubbing your clit and yours slowly jerking him, but neither of you rush it. You pant together, dotting lazy kisses on any piece of bare skin you can reach. You breathe him in, the combination of sweat and gun oil and fresh detergent that's just Joel. A rush of tenderness hits you so suddenly your nose stings.

"Joel," you say, a bit ragged. "Joel, can you --"

A gentle hand on your face brings your foreheads together, his eyes on yours.

"Whatever you want," he groans. "Whatever you want, it's yours."

You can't help it -- you laugh. Brightly and happily, almost in disbelief that this man is yours. Real and solid under you right now, beside you every night. Yours to love and cherish and all the rest.

"You laughin' at me?" he grumbles, though you can tell he's fighting a smile.

"I just love you, is all," you say. You probably don't say it enough. You and Joel show each other every day, so much so that you can't imagine he doesn't know. As it is, you feel loved by him with every move he makes, every time he looks in your direction, every time he says your name.

"And I want you to fuck me," you add.

It's Joel's turn to laugh.

"Now who's the romantic one?" he says. 

You rise from his lap and settle onto your back on the other side of the bed, stretching with your hands above your head.

His eyes follow the line of your bare body, fondness and hunger recognizable in his gaze.

"Always so damn pretty," he grumbles. "Prettiest thing I've ever seen."

"Flirt," you tease.

He rises to his knees and pumps his cock a few times with his fist. You spread your legs for him, knees bent up against your chest.

He settles between your knees and you lock them around his hips. Joel honest-to-god winks at you before dragging two fingers through your folds to make sure you're slick enough.

"Ready?"

You nod. He enters you in one practiced move and you groan in unison as you adjust. It takes some shuffling but he finds a position he can hold, and you wrap your arms around his neck.

Joel fucks you slow and deep. Each drag of his cock against your walls curls your toes and drags whines from both of your throats. He keeps up his usual babel -- doin' so good, feel like a dream, so damn tight, cunt's a fuckin' miracle -- and you press your hands into his bare back like he's a life raft.

Sweat beats on your brow, your chest, everywhere, and you suck bruises into his neck as his thrusts get a little frantic. Your own orgasm sneaks up on you, the pressure building and building and building until it snaps without warning.

"Joel -- Joel, fuck, I --"

You clench around him and he chants your name, that's it, baby, come on my cock, and buries himself to the hilt to finish inside you.

He hovers above you on trembling arms long enough to press a sweet kiss to your lips before rolling off of you.

"Now I'm ready for bed," you say, panting.

You fling a hand out lazily and it lands on his chest. He intertwines your fingers and his gaze finds yours. You smile as you get your breathing under control.

Joel smooths your brow with a thumb. "Don't forget to --"

"I know, I know," you say. "C'mon, you know this isn't my first rodeo." You get up from the bed and head to the bathroom.

"You sayin' I'm a bull?" Joel calls after you.

"Save a horse, ride a cowboy!" you holler back, cleaning yourself up. "Didn't people used to say that?"

Joel doesn't answer you but you laugh at your own joke. You make your way back to the bed in old pyjamas and find him back in his sweatpants, feet flat on the floor like he's about to get up and go somewhere.

"Joel?"

He sighs, his shoulders moving up and down like he's bracing himself.

"It's done," he says. "Your surprise."

The confession stops you in your tracks.

"Oh?"

You know Joel better than mosty, but sometimes he's still a puzzle. The hesitation, the slight air of anxiety about him as he says it confuses you. Because Joel is good at taking care of people, and he has to know it -- those years he and Ellie didn't speak you know he left her things, know that he took care of her from afar as much as she would let him. It's just what he does, he uses his hands to beat and shoot and bloody – but also to carve and hold and love.

They're the same thing, really.

And he's made you something – one of countless gifts he's given you, tangible and not, throughout your relationship.

But he's nervous. As if you wouldn't love anything he made, anything he does. As if you're not gone over every part of him.

"Hm," he says. "Yeah. Let me --"

Joel gets up from the bed and pads over to the dresser to rummage around in a drawer. You meet him back on the bed and he's holding a square-ish parcel wrapped in cloth.

You gingerly take it from him.

"This is what you've been working on?" you ask softly. He nods.

You unwrap the cloth and find yourself holding leather-bound journal. The hide is smooth under your fingertips, scraped clean by hand and tanned a dark chestnut.The spine is about an inch wide, the whole thing swen together with neat stitches of what can only be catgut. A thinner strip of leather is wrapped around the cover and tucked into itself carefully. It must have taken him ages to make. 

"Joel," you gasp. "It's...god, it's beautiful."

He tells you how he found it on patrol a few weeks ago. The cover was fucked but the paper was somehow fine, so he dried out the pages and rebound it with a hide he tanned himself. You run your hands over it again almost like you can feel his fingerprints all over it, the hours he poured into the pages.

The inside cover falls open easily when you undo the tie and you see letters in the bottom left corner of it. Your eyes sting.

Joel has carefully burned your name into the leather, each letter perfectly lined up with the next. You haven't had something with your name on it in years.

He clears his throat. "Ellie said she'd give you some of her pens. Show you how to refill 'em."

You look up from your gift and find so much love on his face you can hardly stand it. He was inside you not that long ago and somehow this is more intimate. You surge forward into his space and wrap an arm around his shoulders, burying your face in his neck.

"I don't know what to say," you confess. "Just -- thank you."

He runs his hand along your spine.

"S'nothin'," he says. "Just saw it and thought of you, is all."

You release him and shake your head in disbelief. This man.

"What should I write in it?"

Joel's cheeks darken a little. Of course he's thought of everything.

"Figured you could write about...all this." He waves a hand in the air like that explains anything.

"All what?"

He shrugs one bare shoulder.

"Life," he says. "Jackson. Folks here. Might be nice, havin' the memories."

You scoot closer to him so you're almost in his lap again.

"You want me to write down the gossip?" You mean it as a joke but Joel nods.

"You pay attention," he explains. "Someone's gotta."

You're not much of a writer anymore, haven't had cause to be in twenty years. But you do like to tell stories. You both do. 

The pages are soft under your fingertips as you flip through them again. You're going to fill them with stories -- about this town, about Joel and Ellie and Tommy and the people you love. The people you've lost, too. The memories that hurt like bruises, like fresh wounds. But the good stuff, too. The gossip, the love stories, the plants in the yard and the flowers on the trails.

Joel has given you the ability to record your lives.

You reach over him to set the journal on the nightstand before you frame his face with both of your hands.

"I'm going to write pages and pages about you, Joel Miller," you whisper.

He huffs, cheeks warm under your palms. "That's borin'."

You shake your head and lean in until your lips brush and your eyes flutter shut.

"That's the story," you say. "That's my life. This is my life. You are."

“I love you,” he breathes. “So damn much. Y’know that?”

How could you not? You say so and kiss him firmly but without hurry. You’ve got lots of time. You’ve got forever.

[quimichi]

-ˏˋ . . . ⇢ ˗ˏˋ CRUSH HDCS ࿐ྂ Pt. 1.....

WARNING: × pure fluff in my opinion

SUMMARY: just some idiots with a crush...you :)

CHARACTERS: Aether, Albedo, Al-haitham, Amber, Arlecchino, Ayaka, Ayato & Baizhu x F!Reader

WORD COUNT: 1.537

AETHER

ᯓᡣ𐭩 Paimon is so done with his constant ranting and crying about you

ᯓᡣ𐭩 She had to stop herself from telling you so often like "Just PLEASE date him already" because she couldn't just fall into her besties back like that

ᯓᡣ𐭩 you would think he doesn't really like you cause he's all quite. Wrong, he actually jusz tries to cope with his rising heat and nervousness around you

ᯓᡣ𐭩 did he once tell you that you smell nice even tho you were sweating lile a sinner in church? Yes

ᯓᡣ𐭩 did he also tell you that you look a bit different and like you haven't slept good after a haircut?...yes

ᯓᡣ𐭩 listen, he was concerned for you-

ᯓᡣ𐭩 everything was so embarrassing for him he thought you hate him now--- well, you didn't. Its hard not to find this weird and awkward ball of sunshine nice

ᯓᡣ𐭩 he also helps you out a lot, no matter whats the issue he's ready to help. And Paimon is the third wheel

ᯓᡣ𐭩 sometimes when he's nervous and talks to you he like suddenly needs to swallow down spit cause it gets stuck in his throat?? Idk how to explain it but i have this issue lol and its so hard to cover up the swallowing cause then people know youre nervous-

ᯓᡣ𐭩 literally once walked into a wall because he was looking at you. Luckily no one saw...except Paimon--she won't let him forget that ever

ᯓᡣ𐭩 speaking of Paimon, bro literally asked her for advice, and she was useful? Hey, look. Shes more than just emergency food-

ᯓᡣ𐭩 she was like, "If you truly love someone, you cook them something good! Love goes through the stomach!"

ᯓᡣ𐭩 and thats why he desperately cooks for you every day---just put Paimon out of her misery and kiss him already

ALBEDO

ᯓᡣ𐭩 has no idea how and why it happened but he won't complain, you are pretty so-

ᯓᡣ𐭩 kinda takes it as an opportunity to study love a bit lol. Its not like he's dumb, far from that, he knows what hes feeling and why he feels attracted to you.

ᯓᡣ𐭩 but somehow he can't tell you, words fail him to explain why although he knows

ᯓᡣ𐭩 is confused and is irritated lol

ᯓᡣ𐭩 did tell Succrose about it and my girl can hardly keep secrets-

ᯓᡣ𐭩 oh and like around a week after he noticed his crush on you he confessed

ᯓᡣ𐭩 he's pretty blunt and honest, straightforward if you will.

ᯓᡣ𐭩 there's honestly not much to say, he knows he likes you, also probably knows it's mutual, logic conclusion would be that he confesses so you two can consider a relationship after some time

ᯓᡣ𐭩 easy??? Like what's not to get???

AL-HAITHAM

ᯓᡣ𐭩 the strongest feeling he ever had for someone else was a book character-and that's also pretty rare cause he doesn't read fiction he only reads facts-

ᯓᡣ𐭩 treats you normally with a sprinkle of kindness

ᯓᡣ𐭩 you don't notice, no one would notice. Good for Al-Haitham cause ew what if people realize hes just a regular human being?? Can't have that

ᯓᡣ𐭩 would tell you to take breaks and eat an apple or other fruits in those breaks so you can concentrate better afterwards. Oh and take a breath of fresh air

ᯓᡣ𐭩 keeps the bitch face on. Only drops it when you're not looking.

ᯓᡣ𐭩 finds it incredibly cute when you play with your hair or bite your lip. Your concentration is adorable...

ᯓᡣ𐭩 if you read like him, he would consider reading one of your favorite books, even if it's stupid and not his thing at all. He wants a good reason to talk to you

ᯓᡣ𐭩 has no idea how to get out of the "I'm so fucking cool" bs to actually get closer to you without seeming cringe or needy

ᯓᡣ𐭩 feelings aren't his thing but hey, he trys. Just pay more attention and maybe you make it easier for him by doing the first step

AMBER

ᯓᡣ𐭩 nah cause she's so honest about it-

ᯓᡣ𐭩 probably all Mondstadt and their granny's know that Amber has a crush on you, except for you....dumbass

ᯓᡣ𐭩 she always asks you if you wanna join her on god knows what adventures

ᯓᡣ𐭩 she also always packs lunch for you

ᯓᡣ𐭩 like i said, she is pretty vocal about it and shows it quite well that she has an interest in you....and youre just brushing it off as kindness

ᯓᡣ𐭩 always ready to help! And she doesn't even need a thank you. Helping you is enough to make her happy, seeing your relieved is all she needs.

ᯓᡣ𐭩 gifts you flowers on a regular basis because they're just as pretty as you ♡

ᯓᡣ𐭩 she's so straightforward about her crush on you it's insane. People think she's dating you already, well wrong--

ᯓᡣ𐭩 big talk and actions but when it comes to beinh very vocal about her feelings she shuts down-she would stutter and blush not knowing what to say-

ᯓᡣ𐭩 like, pls stop being so oblivious to her attempts and just tell her you like her--then she'll confess too!

ARLECCHINO

ᯓᡣ𐭩 look, she's a busy woman (father), she doesn't have time for stupid crushes. She'll either tell you immediately once she figured it out, or just waits till the feelings disappear over time.

ᯓᡣ𐭩 why? If she is uncertain that this would work out with a fatui harbinger, then she wouldn't confess at all. You won't notice a thing.

ᯓᡣ𐭩 but if she does feel like it could work out, maybe not immediately because you need time...and yeah maybe she needs to know a 100% too, she would court you (??)

ᯓᡣ𐭩 presenting you the finest things from all nations. Also giving you ifts from your home region cause...well maybe you miss it? And if you're from Fontaine she gives you only the most expensive shit hidden from all normal ordinary people-

ᯓᡣ𐭩 she sneaks her way in your heart ngl-

ᯓᡣ𐭩 and if she ever sees you with one of the things she gave you, she would make sure others know. Who knows who might have an interest in you.

ᯓᡣ𐭩 would also make some space in her schedule just for you. Lets you know too. No, not to make you feel bad, nahhh. She wants you to know how important you are to her.

ᯓᡣ𐭩 and that she will always have time for you no matter what.

ᯓᡣ𐭩 she's kinda advertising herself. "Look, I'm the baddest bitch around."

AYAKA

ᯓᡣ𐭩 also makes space in her very busy schedule just for you. And if she can't find the time so you both can be alone, she takes you with her to her appointments and everything.

ᯓᡣ𐭩 wants her brothers 'ok' for it all. She wouldn't feel quite comfy if Ayato wouldn't like you. Thomas opinion is also very important to her.

ᯓᡣ𐭩 if she every plays this weird cooking game with you, she trys to make it tame. She doesn't want you too disgusted or near throwing up cause then she'd feel bad

ᯓᡣ𐭩 and also trys cooking for you normally. She trys ok, she's getting better and better. Takes this as an excuse to cook your favorite meals.

ᯓᡣ𐭩 dances with you! She's shy about it but she does. Ayaka teaches you her favorite dances and moves, and would get quite close to you by doing this...plus for her

ᯓᡣ𐭩 but besides this she's very shy about her crush on you and won't admit it very fast. Even after months she wouldn't dare say a word about it to you or hint anything to drastic.

ᯓᡣ𐭩 tbh, it has to be you who would need to make the first step lol

AYATO

ᯓᡣ𐭩 very obvious...I mean...he gives you flowers, jewelry, new clothes. He takes you to events or dinners, important meetings. Lets you stay in the Kamisato estate for free. Bitch you even have your own room??

ᯓᡣ𐭩 ITS SO OBVIOUS

ᯓᡣ𐭩 i can't tell you more, except, just...just talk with him about it. Confront him and say, "yes" that's all he wants to hear from you.

ᯓᡣ𐭩 and see you happy ofc

BAIZHU

ᯓᡣ𐭩 if Chansheng can keep her mouth shut he wouldn't tell you at all. Or at least not so fast.

ᯓᡣ𐭩 if you know, you know. Baizhus story is...something. i won't spoiler tho

ᯓᡣ𐭩 because of that he needs to be very sure about it all. He can't just jump into something that might not work out at all or have no future in the beginning.

ᯓᡣ𐭩 he would show his interest with nice little gestures. Giving you medicine for free, helping your loved ones when sick also for free, smiling just a bit more at you or teaching you about herbs and all.

ᯓᡣ𐭩 he's very gentle with you, scared he might break you. In truth it's actually him who would break--

ᯓᡣ𐭩 Qiqi would notice, she's a smart girl ofc she would. Yeah she knew you two were a thing before you two knew lol

ᯓᡣ𐭩 oh yeah and Changsheng blew it all-

ᯓᡣ𐭩 "Your hands wouldn't shake so much if you wouldn't love her"

TAGLIST ♡

@hehothrowawayfae @lucienbarkbark @ryu--19 @theblades @rikasurl

[midnightmoonkiss]

Language Of Love

AlHaitham X GN! Reader

“‘Italics’” = he’s speaking another language

“So.. you can speak 20 languages?”

A random conversation.

It was easy to guess how you got to this point, boredom.

Spending time with your.. acquaintance, who you may or may not have a crush on, wasn’t on your agenda today, but here you are - sitting on a chair in his office as he effortlessly scribbles down sophisticated words onto parchment.

The sound was certainly pleasing to the ears, skrch sccrch sckrch.

You had no clue what he was doing. Oh, the duty of a scribe..

Or why you even came here..

No.

You knew why you came here, to spend time with him, as a friend only. Or maybe you were less than friends. It was hard putting a label on things when it came to the emotionally stunted AlHaitham. He was almost as bad as the General Mahamatra.

You just forgot how boring spending time with him can be if he’s busy working, thus leading you to flip through one of the many books on his bookshelf.

Yeah, you quickly got bored of that too.

These weren’t story books, they were informative books. You suppose to a man like him who enjoyed learning, this was like being surrounded by candy. To you? Its like being surrounded by encyclopedias.

He probably reads encyclopedias for fun.

So here you were, starting a conversation on a little fact you heard an academia student mutter like it was a piece of gossip even though it was probably outlined somewhere.

“Yes,” The scratching of quill to paper continues even as he glances up at you for a split second, “It’s important for scholars to broaden their knowledge and fluency of languages as to not hinder important research that may be written in a different dialect.”

All of Teyvat spoke the same language, it was easy to wonder why everyone from ancient times suddenly decided to switch. Of course you wouldn’t ask him such a thing, not right now anyway.

You had a plan.

A plan to woo this man.

The many failed attempts before can not hinder you.

Smugly, you said to him, “I bet I know one language you can’t speak.”

Oh, you were already giddy.

Curiosity peaked, his scribbling halted, eyes on you, “Is that so?” He was eager to hear you answer.

Whether you were toying with him, or genuinely knew a language he could add to his list, he was willing to listen.

“Do tell.”

Clearing your throat, you sat up straight and gave him a cocky smile, “The language of love.”

You were met with silence, as expected.

He was starstruck, surely. In awe. Was he wooed?

You could easily speak up with the punchline after his response, oh!! You would say, ‘but I can teach you!!’

Oh, he’s about to respond! He’s-!

“You must be referring to the ancient Fontaine language used by higher class citizens, commonly known to scholars as the language of love due to how words would ‘roll off the tongue like silk’ when speaking it.“

–an idiot? You were gobsmacked.

And he was smirking on the inside.

“I’m surprised you know of this language, you must have learned something from one of the books you’ve flipped through in the library.”

“That’s not,”

“I can even demonstrate it for you.”

“Wait!”

You began to fluster as he indeed began speaking a language completely foreign to your ears.

He was right, the words did flow silkily. This did not make you feel any better. Your pickup line failed miserably.

“‘You are so adorable, trying to trick me like this.’”

You can’t help but pout, wondering just what he was saying.

“‘Look at you, cheeks flushed and puffed like a fish. Honestly, how am I supposed to work efficiently if you’re here distracting me.’”

“Aw come on,” You began to complain, frowning at the gloating male, “I can’t understand you, y’know.”

“‘I do wonder if you’re aware that I know you like me, you wear your heart on your sleeves, my dear,’” he smiles ever so slightly, which completely unnerves you, “‘I like you too.’”

His cheek rests on his knuckles as he leans back and observes your frustration. Oh, how happy he was you brought this up. Any chance to show off his ability and confess without you knowing is always a good opportunity.

He’d shower you in compliments and confessions in all 20 languages if he had the time, perhaps even spill secrets to your unknowing ears.

Oh, how he would like that. He could say his deepest, darkest desires and you’d only look at him with confusion.. maybe even annoyance.

The thought pleased the busy scholar.

“That’s so mean you know, am I supposed to look up your words in a dictionary or something?”

“Oh, they wouldn’t be in a dictionary.” He reaches forward and tugs at your cheek, elation swirling in his broad chest as you whine and swat at his large arm.

“Should you remind me at a later date,” when he’s finally made you his, of course, “I’ll happily tell you what I said.”

“How about right now.”

“It is not a later date, only the time has changed.” Breathing out a sigh, faking annoyance, he turns his attention back to his paperwork, picking back up his quill.

“Ok, so I can ask you tomorrow.”

“You can, however, I’m under no obligation to tell you until I want to.”

“I dislike you very much, Scribe.” You grumbled, settling back in your seat.

He chuckles to himself, “I’m sure you do, ‘sweetheart.’”

[solbaby7]

Hiii, can I get a margarita with a salt rim on the rocks, please? Thank you!💕

[ “got a mouth on you. someone should teach you how to use it.” + smut + rhysand ]

-> BLURB BAR <-

Rhysand liked wild things—had this affinity for collecting strays; plucking them from their prisons and providing a life of freedom and luxury.

Maybe that’s why he’s so drawn to you. This rabid animal of a thing with a serious aversion to proper clothing and absolutely no regard for others personal boundaries. “Back for more charity work?”

“Is that how you think of my visits? I’m hurt.”

You look down at him with amusement, crouched low on a branch with a skirt so short it takes effort not to stare. “We both know you aren’t,” You make tree climbing look easy, bare toes trodding across branches that don’t look sturdy but hold strong bearing your weight. “What’d you bring me this time?”

Rhysand dangles the wicker basket before him with two fingers. He’s teasing, offering; luring you in closer as the laws of the Middle insists that its lands and the creatures in it must welcome you and not the other way around. “Come see for yourself, trouble.”

He’s grown fond of the wild way you move, confidently twisting and ducking through the forestry—the breathable linen of your strapless top flows with the breeze. Handmade necklaces kiss at your clavicle, all braided leather with bleached bones, carefully woven shells and shiny geodes. Once you get close enough he can see the neat braids peeking through loose strands, interwoven thread adding pops of color in haphazard places. “More naughty words on paper,” You chuff out when the weight of two books sits in your hands. The pages are pristine; probably first addition and perfectly cared for. “Always knew you High Lords were just pampered perverts.”

“Didn’t seem to bother you when you read the last two I brought you.”

Rhysand is sure he’ll have dreams about the pretty blush on your cheeks. He’s certain fantasies have planted their seed with intent to grow and grow like fucking ivy until nothing in sight could be see but you and that feisty furrow of your brow and the sharp roll of your eyes. Curious hands dig around the basket, sifting through cured meats and cheeses, parchment paper and oil pastels, rich fabrics and a case full of fresh sewing needles. “You trying to turn me into a fucking housewife or something? Charcuterie boards and fixing the buttons on your rich boy clothes.”

“Got a mouth on you.” Rhys chuckles in amusement, aubergine irises twinkling with silent adoration. “Someone should teach you how to use it.” You don’t seem the slightest bit ashamed when forcing him to hold onto your things, urging him to follow with a jerky nod of your head. “Could start by saying thank you.”

“Make me.”

Something in the air shifts. It alters the way he stands. Awakens a creature lurking in his shadow and its sights lock on you—the female with no fear of monsters. No, instead you hunt them, wrangle them up and tame them. Rabid beasts crooned into fucking house pets and Rhysand yearned to be the stray you took pity on. “Make you use your mouth properly? Or make you say thank you?”

“Both.” He’s hooked; shoes sinking into your footsteps until thick forestry breaks into a clearing with a house built smack dab in the middle. It’s surrounded by flowers, lavender and lemongrass guarding hand built basins labeled with fresh produce to fend off freeloading animals. Ivy creeps up one side of the greenhouse attached to the back. “Show me how to do it like they do in the books you bring me.”

Is it possible for a mouth to dry up and salivate at once? Because Rhys suddenly finds his in an odd mix of something in between. You barely notice the clumsy way he sets aside your basket of goodies but you’re fully aware of the eager way he pulls you in, stopping you from taking a step further. “You sure you know what you’re asking for?”

You scan the length of him, running over the strong set of his shoulders and the practiced ease in the way his arms rest at his sides. Every breath strains against the soft cotton of his shirt, solid muscle radiating warmth when you rest the palm of your hand against it. It’s a slow drag down and you feel no shame for your curiosity when exploring the length of his abdomen, fingers hooking in the loop of his belt. “I’ve got a pretty good idea.” The metallic click of his belt unbuckling, the sharp undoing of tied dress pants. “But, I’m a visual learner.” Rhys’ heart throbs in his chest when you sink to your knees, blood rushing lower until the true extent of his affection towards you is standing at attention in your face.

“I can help with that,” He’s already easing down the top of your shirt, groaning at the sight of bare breasts and pebbled nipples. “Though, my teaching style is a little more…hands on.”

You don’t have time to ask what that means when he’s giving you exactly what you asked for; tugging down his pants just enough to show off a throbbing erection, ruddy tip leaking pre-cum. Two fingers tap at your cheek twice and you have no control over the way your mouth drops open.

He knows he’s being a little rougher than he should—it’s probably your first time giving head and yet he can’t slow down his movements. You don’t even complain, breathing through the way his cock is fed to you, spit glistening along the length and dribbling down your chin. “Quick learner, aren’t you?” Rhys praises so prettily, such nice words spewing free as if he wasn’t rutting his prick down your throat.

Thumbs clear away the tears from under your eyes when you gag. The rasp of his voice urging you to work harder, to hollow your cheeks and run your tongue along that vein that has blunt nails digging into the nape of your neck. Swears spill in a sloppy slur, hands guiding the bob of your head until his release shoots down your throat with a choked grunt.

There’s no way you don’t look a mess when you peer up at him. Fucked out eyes. Tears tracking down your cheeks. Bruised lips. A wet patch dripping down your chest and still you utter the words, “Thank you.”

Just perfection and something inside him screams ‘mine’ the same time Rhysand replies with a breathless, “You’re welcome.”

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

the girl next door 2

Warnings: this fic will include elements, some dark, such as age gap, manipulation, chronic illness, noncon/dubcon, coercion, and other untagged triggers. Please take this into account before proceeding. It is up to curate your online consumption safely.

Summary: A new neighbour moves in and upends your already disarrayed life.

Author’s Note: Please feel free to leave some feedback, reblog, and jump into my asks. I’m always happy to discuss with you and riff on idea. As always, you are cherished and adored! Stay safe, be kind, and treat yourself.

This lewk but silverfox

You gnaw on your cheek as you read over the letter. Final warning. You really didn't think much of the first five but that word catches your worry; litigation.   

Your mother grunts and clicks her pen, dropping it as she curses under her breath. She tosses the crossword book away from the chair. For all your life, you remember her working on her puzzles. Now, she can hardly hold pen steady enough to put in a single clue.  

"Mom, you want another coke before I head out?" You ask.  

"Where are you 'headed out' to?" She scowls.  

"Just outside. Try to figure out the mower."  

"Piece of shit," she sneers and for a moment, you're not sure if she means the machine or you.  

"So..."  

"Just go," she snips.  

You purse your lips around the cut of her tone. You leave her in her recliner and you go down the hallway to the back door. You shove your feet into your stained vans and let yourself gently outside.  

You come down the steps and cross the overgrown grass to the garage. You prop the door open with an old paint can and drag put the mower. You haul it over to the little patch of pavement by the house as the sunlight raises beads of sweat across your forehead.  

You shade your eyes and squint. You don't get the thing. It's not even motorized, it just started catching. You can't push it hard enough to make it go. It only bounces uselessly across the ground.  

You squat and put it on its side. You examine the blades, nervous to dig between the mulching teeth. You grab a stick and poke around. It breaks and you rip it out.  

"Dang it," you whisper.  

You stand up. It's too hot to think. As much as you miss the sunshine in the grim winters, the heat is less than welcome.   

"Hey, excuse me," a voice startles you. You ignore it, thinking maybe it's just the neighbours on the other side of the fence. "Um, miss?"  

You turn towards the voice and find a man peeking through the loose slat in the fence. You sigh. Yeah,   

that needs to be fixed too.  

You stare dumbly. You recognise the man. It takes a few seconds to remember where you saw him. He was with the realtor. You hadn't see much yet, not that you ventured outside often. The sign changed to sold and that was that.  

"Hi, uh, so this," he touches the plank, swiveling it on the hanging nail.

You nod and go to the edge of the patch of pavement but no further. You nibble your lip and search for something to say. Talking to mom is easy, you know what to expect, but strangers are different.   

"Gonna fix it," you assure him flatly.  

"Yeah, well, I was actually thinking, I'm just doing a few touch ups right now and I could spare a couple nails or two."  

You tilt your head and bring your hands together, mashing your palms anxiously, "it's rotted."  

He wiggles the wood and little slivers fall away. He hums disappointed, "sure is." He smiles as his blue eyes shine in the sunlight, "no problem then. I'm sure I can find something at the hardware store."  

You hesitate. You should mention you can afford even half a plank. Grandma left you the house and enough to cover property taxes, but mom's monthly cheques are already stretched thin. If he doesn't ask, you won't offer.  

"Steve," he stretches his arm through the opening.  

You look at his hand. Your stomach flip flops. You don't want to be rude as much as you don't want to touch this strange man. Well, no use in making another enemy around here.  

You lift your feet as you trudge through the high grass. As you near, the sweat slakes down your back. You gently shake his hand, just for a second, and pull back.  

"And your name? Neighbour?" 

You stare at the collar of his grey tee shirt and eke your name out. 

“Is it just you over here?” He asks. 

You shake your head. You bend your arm to pick at your sleeve. You don’t mind introductions but you’re not much for conversation. You don’t need him prying into things. If anyone really saw inside those walls, they’d only feel bad for you. You’d rather their apathy. 

“Oh, you got kids? A husband?” 

You wince. It’s almost a flattering assumption yet a reminder of everything you don’t have. You’re not old enough to really think about all that anyway. 

You glance back at the side of the house. You should hose that down and get rid of the mildew. Another tick on the endless list. 

“Mom,” you say. 

“Ah, makes sense. You in school?” 

You shake your head again. He’s quiet. You sway listlessly. 

“Anyway...” he says. 

You put your head down and back away. You go back to the mower, bending down to fiddle with it again. You could see if anyone would lend you one but that means asking and as much as the neighbourhood paints itself in friendly smiles, they aren’t genuine. The letter on the kitchen table is proof of that. 

“Not working?” The man, Steve asks. You cringe and stand up. He’s still there. 

You shrug as you look at him. You turn back to the mower and lift it by the handles. You try to ignore the nosy neighbour and line it up with the grass. You push and it doesn’t move easy. You grunt and it rolls over the grass. You think maybe it’s working but as you turn, you notice the grass stands back up, only slightly bent. 

“You know, I got a nice electric one. Isn’t here yet but I can bring it tomorrow on the truck,” he offers, “I wouldn’t mind doing a once over, if you need.” 

You huff and push the mower over. 

“Can’t pay you,” you stomp back towards the house. 

“I didn’t say anything about money,” he chimes. 

You stop by the steps and cross your arms. You look at him, “too much.” 

“Well, if you change your mind, you can just come knock on my door,” he says. 

You nod and spin around again. You climb the steps, fighting to keep your steps even. You want to run inside and hide but you don’t want him to see how desperate you are to get away. 

The screen door snaps shut behind you. You kick off your shoes and go down the hall. Your mother huffs from her recliner. 

“You figure it out?” She asks. 

“No,” you flop onto the couch. 

“Knew ya wouldn’t,” she snorts as she stares out the window. “Man’s back. Musta bought the place.” 

“Uh, yeah,” you lean back, pulling the collar of your shirt over your face to sop up the sweat. “It’s hot.” 

“Nah, you’re just whiny,” she snickers. 

You don’t respond. You know better than that. You let her have her truth. Whatever she thinks of you, you can’t disprove. The world is she says it is. 

🏠

Your bedroom window shines yellow with the noon sun. The heat beams down on the folding table, warming your hands as you scratch charcoal onto thick paper. You still have grass stains on your fingers from another fruitless attempt at fixing the mower. Another day and you expect another letter isn’t far behind. 

As you focus on the lines and curves left by the pencil, your anxiety subsides. Drawing is the only thing that helps you forget. Really forget. You don’t think about the house or the lawn or the HOA or your mom. It’s just you and the pencil. 

You lean your forehead in your hand as you cross hatch the shadows. The chirping birds and the soft breeze deepen your trance. The world around you is distant and dim. You’re only awoken but the sudden and unfamiliar ‘ding dong’. 

You sit up. It takes a moment before you realise what it was. The doorbell? No one ever rings it. No, even Marge from the HOA waits until you come out to get the mail to accost you. 

You put the pencil down and get up. You go out and peek down the hallway. You creep along and stop at the doorway to the front room. You mom sniffs and wipes her eyes. She must have fallen asleep in her chair. 

“Who is it?” She snarls with grogginess in her throat. 

“I don’t know,” you go to the door and pull the curtain away from the long window beside it. You peek out at the figure on the porch and quickly hide behind the fabric. Too late. “It’s... the neighbour. I think he saw me.” 

“Ergh, don’t be stupid, girlie,” your mother barks, “help me up.” 

“Oh, uh, okay.” 

You go to her and offer your hand. You get her to her feet. She slightly hunched and slow but she makes her way to the door. She pauses and turns to the mirror above the little bench against the wall. She tidies her hair and wipes her mouth with the back of her hand. 

She leans on the door as she grips the handle. She opens it and the man from next door, Steve, greets her with a grin. 

“Hello?” She sweetens her tone. 

“Hello, miss, sorry to bother you,” he says, “I just moved in next door and I’m getting settled in. I was just about to do some lawn work and I thought maybe I might offer to do yours? It’s no trouble, I just thought I’d offer.” 

“Oh, what a honey you are,” she preens, “of course, that would be lovely of you. My daughter,” she sighs and shakes her head, “I’ve been nagging her for weeks to get it done.” 

“Really, it’s not a bother,” he assures her, “I’m Steve by the way.” 

His smile is just as charming as his introduction. 

“Holly,” your mother returns, “I’ll make you some lemonade for your trouble. It’s a hot one, isn’t it?” 

“Sounds good,” he agrees, “I’ll try not to make too much noise.” 

You peek out from behind your mother. Steve’s eyes meet yours for an instant before she blocks her out, no doubt eager to hide the state of the house from him. You back up as she turns to you.  

“What’re you doing hanging on like a rodent?” She hisses, “go make some lemonade.” 

[melancholiania]

DESCENSO

[yandere! king magnifico x reader]

summary: snippets of king magnifico's love with you, his darling, a bright light in a kingdom he is rapidly losing control over.

[you assume queen amaya's role in this fic, but this is a gn!reader fic and there is no reference to reader's gender.]

warnings: THIS IS A YANDERE POST/FIC. read at your own risk. pretty tame, but watch out for auditory hallucinations, aggressive behaviour and the like. one mention of blood, and one mention of murder.

word count: 3.6k+ words

a/n: so...wish was low-key ass (asha deserved a better movie). but magnifico is one of the few highlights of the movie, and he is so ripe for yandere potential!!! a traumatised man who clings to the people's wishes out of his own skewed sense of right or wrong and his descent into madness (as poorly as it was done)? ooh baby!!! so for my writing comeback, enjoy this fic! (i'm also taking a lot of liberties with the wish system and overall lore because the way they explained it was irritatingly confusing with so many plot gaps, so if there are any inconsistencies please forgive them haha)

please reblog and reply! would love to see your comments!

✵ When his homeland was ravaged and his parents were murdered in cold blood by bandits and thieves, Magnifico, having just barely come into his own as a man, in his grief, swore he would never cause harm like this to befall any home he would find ever again. He would run, and run, with only a tattered tapestry being the last reminder of the birthplace he knew would never exist again.

✵ His gift of sorcery was, despite his innate talent, not an easy one contrary to popular belief. Years of blood, sweat and tears were spent pouring over tomes and scrolls filled with the whispers of strength and potential. He would travel all across the Iberian peninsula, seeking out and absorbing knowledge to protect himself. He travelled often, collecting books and tomes to keep for himself (especially one rather large book unexpectedly given by an odd stranger that he never dared to open), and never settling down in fear of danger befalling him and anyone he would meet.

✵ That is, until he met you.

✵ He'd never have known today was going to be any special. The sky is clear, a light breeze flowing through the ports, with grand sailboats almost flying across the Strait of Gibraltar. Magnifico reads his notebook of spells by a small cathedral, the only place he had been able to beg for sanctuary. As he angrily scratches out the wrong glyphs with his stylus, a leaf, its hues of midnight blue and green rich and fresh, casually falls onto his notebook. Irritated, he looks up.

(In his older years, he would realise it was a mere coincidence that a simple leaf, serendipity, let him discover you.)

✵ You are a vision as you pick oranges from trees by the cliff overlooking the docks, hands skilled and adept. Despite your simple garb denoting your lack of status, you are stunning. Magnifico swears he can almost hear your sighs of exertion as you drop a hefty basket of said oranges. His hardened heart sinks, but it is not a bad feeling, not at all.

✵ His...infatuation feels like he's drowning in marzipan, a sweet, beautiful sight for him to consume and devour, gorge on until he cannot eat anymore. It feels like drinking rosewater, or even like the feel of lavender oil, a soothing balm in his soul he cannot bear to let go of. He shakes his thoughts, palms suddenly sweaty and ruining the ink of his spellbook as he decides, for the very first time since the massacre, to bear his heart to someone.

You.

✵ And it all started with a simple "Are you alright?!" As he haphazardly shoved his book into his rucksack and rushed to help you on that fateful day.

✵ Years pass after your fateful meeting and eventual marriage. Building the kingdom of Rosas with you as his beloved partner is a dream that Magnifico has nearly completed in full earnest. The people adore him and you...you are loved too, yes, but you prefer to be more in the background, wanting to support your husband, yet your reserved nature not being the best suited for public speaking.

(A small, tiny, itsy bitsy little part of Magnifico, tucked away beneath his glossy veneer of a royal persona, secretly prefers it this way.)

✵ By now, the wish-granting is in full effect. Every new resident of Rosas is told of the miracles their king provides (often with great enthusiasm by its citizens.) You willingly petition to give up your wish to the king during court, in exchange for your utopian life in Rosas, and King Magnifico will grant it in front of the entire kingdom, a spectacle of light and wonder.

✵ To be truthful, Magnifico loves the power to help his people. It feels euphoric, granting their wishes as his power flows from his very essence to aid the world. The way the people's faces light up when he gives them their heart's...no, their soul's desire, it strokes his ego in a way little else can do. The hypnotic allure of power flouncing through his fingertips is a tempting feeling for reasons he cannot describe with common words.

✵ But, unbeknownst to the general population, he saves his most powerful magic for you, his darling, his star that fell from the heavens, the one he loves with every fibre of his mortal flesh. You are that little else who matters more than actually granting people's wishes. Your wishes are more important to Magnifico. And that is especially true today...

.

.

.

The sun is rising as you peer over your documents in your personal study, with trade agreements and decrees that make your head spin. Magnifico has little interest in these matters, so as the second half of the royal couple and the ruler who actually bothers to worry about these matters, you have to take on the bureaucratic duty.

The golden hour casts streaks of sunlight all over your spacious chamber, and the ceiling sparkles with accented gold paintings of constellations replicating the night sky above Rosas (Magnifico had instantly conjured them there when you lamented over the plain white stucco on top). You hear your door open.

“My love?”

You crane your neck and smile as the white-cloaked figure of Magnifico saunters in with a restlessness that belies his stormy blue eyes. He seems rather nervous, hands already twitching with sparks of sorcery that make you eye him fondly. He always acted much younger than his slowly graying dark hair would have one believe.

“¿Mi rey?” You soften your gaze. "What's wrong?"

Magnifico sits on the armrest of your chair, leaning in to inhale the scent of the nape of your neck as he sighs in relief. He seems rather apologetic suddenly, arms hugging himself as he eyes you with those same blue eyes, lightening just a bit so they seem like circles of roiling seawater and not storm clouds crying in anger.

“It’s your birthday today, my love.”

You raise your eyebrows, relieved that it is nothing more than a trivial matter. "Oh, who cares about that nonsense? You know I never truly celebrate my birthday publicly, Magnifico. Just you and I—"

“My...Our people have not made celebrations in your honour.” You tilt your head at his rather matter-of-fact statement, your brows furrowing in concern as you realise Magnifico has become rather upset.

“Magnifico, I—“

“Rosas should be celebrating YOU LIKE I DO! I would create miracles for you, destroy mountains, reshape forests for you, my love. The least my people can do is to acknowledge that you even exist as my spouse and consort!”

You sigh and ruffle his hair, soothing his heaving breaths as you gently wipe his glimmering eyes. “No, Magnifico...all I need is you, mi rey. You, the man I love, with me by my side.” Magnifico leans into your touch, chest slowing as he calms down.

"I just wish the world saw how much I adore you, my light," Magnifico mutters as he pulls off you and gets off the armrest. He turns around in a flourish of his shimmery cape to face you, left hand outstretched as his magic conjures a small figurine of your visage, made of glittering, mirror-like crystal. You chuckle. "You are such a hopeless romantic, mi rey." "Only for you, my love." He then leans in to kiss your forehead, eyes half-lidded as he watches you with adoring eyes.

"Only you."

✵ Rosas is no exception to the rule of time, so years pass as is the natural order of things. The kingdom has only grown in scale and vibrancy, people slowly but surely filling the kingdom with every day that passes. You and Magnifico settle into your roles as King and consort, Magnifico's magic allowing you both to last longer than your people could ever imagine.

✵ And, well...Magnifico begins to grow resentful. ✵ Wish-granting is becoming more of a chore than a true display of his powers for the common people to admire and sing their praises for. Week by week, day by day, he must grant wishes to the people who seem utterly ungrateful, only waiting for their turn at a chance for power, opportunity, or some other useless wish that Magnifico, for lack of a better term, could not give a rat's ass about. And they have begun to take his sorcery for granted.

.

.

. "¡Joder!" You startle as Magnifico sends his tubes of potions flying, clattering, shattering onto the polished marble floor with a CRASH!, the purple liquid seeping out onto the tile. Your husband is not like himself tonight, all anger and no lighthearted smugness, no kindness at all. He heaves, arms crackling with pale blue energy, fingertips craning as if they were claws. You had come here to bring him to bed, the moon having risen long ago and the lights of Rosas dimmed for the night. He had recently become more irritable and gruff, but you had been assuaged with honeyed words from him assuring you it was alright and he was just having an off-season. When you had opened the mirrored door to his private laboratory with a wave of your hand (only he trusted you with the gestures), you had not imagined it would be this dire. "¿Mi rey? Please...come to bed. You seem unwell, and experimenting all night is not good for your health, even if you want—" "NO!" He angrily circles the laboratory, furious as he crunches the glass of the broken test tubes beneath the sole of his boots. His pupils are contracted, and his breaths are constricted, as if he needs to explode lest he causes something truly harmful. "My people....they take and take and they take, with no thanks or gratitude for me! I take care of them, I clothe and house them out of the kindness of my own heart, and all they want is their wishes!??" He sends a bronze cauldron flying with his magic, a burst of pale blue that makes the cauldron clatter next to your feet. you step back, and the squeak of your slippers alerts him, his head snapping at you. He is on you in an instant, arms wrapped around you like a vice as he gasps and snarls hefty breaths, chest rising up and down in rapid succession. He breathes your scent of orange and cinnamon, and his heartbeat slows to a simmer, and he quietly murmurs, voice tired. "I'm sorry...sorry, so sorry, my love. I just...I cannot keep giving and giving and seeing n-nothing given back to me from my people..." Magnifico's voice is chock full of exhaustion, a pain he cannot let you truly feel. "Our people are a demanding bunch, are they not?" Your attempt at a joke makes Magnifico huff with mirth, a rare occurrence these days. He pulls back and brings his hand to caress your cheek, and you lean into it. His magic, now much less volatile, manifests as small glittery specks around you both. "They are. they really are," your husband replies. He looks at the glitter surrounding you both and brings his other hand to reach out for them. You watch him do this and quirk a small smile. "You do not need to bow to our people's wills every single day. You are only one man." You push in for a kiss on his soft lips, and he clearly wasn't expecting it, his blush hot and red as you pull away, turbulent blue eyes brightening like clouds parting on a sunny day.

The soft linen of your night clothes swishes as you begin to exit his laboratory, and you turn your head to utter one last thing. "Tell me when you are struggling, please. I'll always be here for you, Magnifico." As you head off, Magnifico places his fingers on his lips, tracing the remains of your lips on his own, heart racing once more with a longing that threatens to consume him. He looks up to the high ceiling of his observatory, the dark austerity of the structure calling to him. Wait.

Yes. Oh, yes, he finally knows how to fix this. "Thank you, my love. Thank you, so very much."

And with a flourish of his cape, he puts on a manic grin as he levitates the broken glass with a flick of his hands. Time to put his plan into action.

✵ Another few decades have passed, and it is currently the present day. Rosas is a flourishing, robust kingdom, a place that most other countries would consider a utopia, all thanks to King Magnifico and his consort ( ). In the years leading to now, Magnifico has only grown in skill and power, thanks in part to his new form of wish granting that has eased his own suffering. ✵ Every month or so, Magnifico takes the people's wishes when they turn of age, the most important wish, the one that powers one's being. He takes care of them in his laboratory, and on the same night, he grants one person's wish, which of course, he does with his usual penchant for spectacle. ✵It's so much easier. No more begging, no more exhaustion, no more fear of handing power to the wrong person's hands. After all, only he trusts himself with this power he worked so hard to hone and maintain.

(What he fails to mention to his people is that their wishes are of no benefit to him, not anymore. He has lost any true care for them, for his new system is to only prevent them from trying anything. He only cares for the one closest to him now.) ✵He has you to thank, after all. His smart, gorgeous, talented, beautiful ray of light, who allowed him to even think of this new system, and who stayed after his outburst that should have scared you off. And he does thank you, by pampering you as much as he can. ✵ He conjures the finest clothes for you, pieces of cashmere and silks and taffetas. He makes (forces) the cooks to cook for your every whim and desire. On public tours of the kingdom, he makes a reminder for any citizen who even inconveniences you just once. ✵ And later on, if people forget the miscreants even exist...well, that is not his problem to care for.

✵ Magnifico needs a new royal apprentice, as the last one blew up part of his front-facing study. He could have easily fixed that with a wave of his hand (and he did, all while glaring daggers at his very terrified apprentice), but he fired the man nonetheless. Frankly, he felt good getting rid of him. He was completely useless at making even the simplest potions anyway. ✵ Sure enough, after a soul-sucking set of consultations, the last hopeful, Asha from the village of Hamlet, arrives. Magnifico sees you talk with the young girl as you two ascend the Sisyphean number of stairs leading to his study. His heart flickers with a sense of paranoia once he sees Asha; something about her bothers him. ✵ He's been recently having similar bouts of suspicions and delusions, all green-tinged scenarios of you leaving him and the kingdom he worked so hard for falling into chaos. The little vegetable seller by the sea during your royal tours could be an assassin to kill you. The little child who you greet by the palace could be a plant from a neighbouring kingdom set out to kill you. The royal kitchen could poison his beloved's meal and you would choke out and pass in his arms. ✵ Whispers cloud his mind, his ears fine-tuned to the haunting words they serenade for his ego. They tell him that this girl is someone who will destroy him and all he loves.

✵ Everywhere, he sees your death. And every time, he vows to prevent those ideas from ever reaching the light of day.

✵ But for now, as you introduce Asha to Magnifico at his doorstep, he quietly grits his teeth and forces his lips into a smile. Maybe this Asha girl will be helpful for him, and not spell the kingdom's downfall he has seen in his visions.

✵ A Star was ripped from the sky. ✵ A. Star. Was ripped. From the sky!!!! ✵ This is not good. Not good at all. Magnifico was specifically reminded of this in his visions. A star falling out of the sky, destroying the kingdom of Rosas and dragging you into the depths of darkness, leaving him forever alone. .

.

. Magnifico paces around his study, you sitting in the armchair by the fireplace, eyeing him with concern masking your wariness. A worried Magnifico is a reckless Magnifico, and as he throws a sacred tome to the fireplace, it raises alarm bells in your heart.

You immediately get up a second after when he reaches towards the locked Book of Spells, ignoring his buzzing blue sting-flies as they leap from the glass case as a defensive spell. His hands begin to be ravaged, but he ignores the pain and blood as he pulls the book out, ignoring the bottle of obsidian oil as he opens the pages. "Mi rey, forbidden magic is not the answer, you know this!" You yank his arm away from the Book, and Magnifico's eyes lock with yours, eyes narrowed in a desperate glare. For a moment, you swear they flash an unnatural green. "You should do well to not test me, ( )." You frown, upset. Magnifico does not threaten. He whines like a child at times, yes. He even yells if he's truly tested on a bad day, angry and petulant. All of that you have seen in your decades of marriage to your beloved. But to threaten you? You fear something has gone terribly wrong, even as you convince him to put the book away. As you both gaze over the kingdom from his personal balcony, his arm around your waist has never been tighter than it has been today, bloodied fingers gripping you as if you are a doll he cannot bear to let go of. He whispers in your ear.

"I'm sorry, my dear. I just...you are the only thing I want to keep safe anymore. Tell me that you understand. Please." He kisses your hand with an adoration that feels heavy and oppressive. He gazes into your eyes, and they are back to their crystal blue, reflecting the bright blue of Rosas' morning sky. "I am so lucky to have you," he whispers once more. You wonder if you feel the same.

✵ In hindsight, you should have convinced him more effectively. ✵ The minute you had seen the centre of his study already opened, stairs leading a downward spiral into the depths of darkness, you feared the worst. And you were right, much to your exponentially increasing terror. ✵ Your husband, still dressed in his white robes, is hunched over his worktable, inhaling audibly as he pulls out a staff of crystal, sleek and sharp, from the cauldron bubbling with the same unnatural green magic you swore you saw reflected in his eyes. ✵ You know you are outmatched once his laughs of excitement deepen and stagger into maniacal wheezes that fill the dark chamber, the green consuming the background as he turns to face you. ✵ "Daaaaarlinnnng..." ✵ So, the only thing you can do is try and reason with him.

.

.

. "So you side with her, then? That traitor?"

The way he speaks Asha's name with such disgust coating his words already adds to the mountain of warning signs your heart is screaming at you. But you press on. "No, Mi rey, I—" The sharp end of his staff lands only inches away from your neck. Magnifico tilts his head to the side in a mockery of innocence, and if this was a different, much less terrifying time, you'd admire the way his eyes filled with adoration and the way his white hair was slightly dishevelled, his smile wide like a hyena's. "You know, I've realised a few things." He saunters closer to you, staff back at his side like a knight with his sword. He hugs your waist, eyes gleaming green with adoration.

"No one matters to me. It has been this way for a long, long time. Not the kingdom, not my cavalry, not my staff or my alchemists. Not anymore." He gently places a hand on your chin, and you resist the urge to scream and push him away. "But I love you. And me, of course," He adds with a humorless chuckle and continues. "But all this time, I've loved you so much. I built this cursed kingdom for you, I studied sorcery to provide you the best life I could give with my heart and soul. Every bit of anger, every bit of sadness, every bit of happiness, I feel for you." You try and reach for a ceremonial dagger that is only inches away, hanging on the dungeon wall. You're so very close to it, but you miss Magnifico's eyes shift quickly to the left and notice. "So when I see you conspiring...with that STAIN on our happiness..." He grabs your hand, crushing it like a thumbscrew would, and you realise your hopes of escape are dashed. "...I get, well, a little upset." Magnifico grits his teeth, shards of crystal-like mirrors blasting up from the dungeon floor, and you finally scream as he grabs you close, the dungeon ripping into itself as you both rise up on a small platform made of black glass. Now back in the grand study, you can only watch helplessly as he slams you to the floor, staff pointed at your injured form. The mirrors only grow higher and higher, surrounding you both as he laughs the most sinister laugh you have ever heard from him, oily, layered like a crowd of Magnificos are laughing along with him, revelling in your fear. His eyes are acid green, and his smile is wistfully manic as he speaks his final words in a sing-songy tone.

"After all, if I can destroy myself for you and you don't even want me anymore...well, we can't have that, can we?" His perfect white smile is hellish.

"I'll keep you safe here where no one else can harm you...all to myself."

gif by @/picsani border by @/enchanthings-a

[ki-yomii]

helloo! could you recommend your favorite jungkook and yoongi fics? thank you and have a lovely day ♡

hey there~ 💛

... tbh i haven’t read too many fics for my boys lately 🙈

i've been trying to work through the books sitting on my shelf collecting dust + i got sucked back into fallout now that the show is out lol.

but i do have some all-time favorites!!

please mind the warnings/tags - you're responsible for your own reading consumption. that said, all of these fics are 🔞

i hope you have a great day nonnie and if you have any recs send them my way 🥰!

JUNG KOOK FICS

the crimson shell series by @angelicyoongie

mermaid aus are my lifeblood istg. and this is one of the best one's i've ever read!! it's dark, it's creepy, it's foreboding - and tantalizing. everything i love about mermaid/siren aus crammed into one series.

you had always found comfort in being at the beach, often spending hours just watching the waves lap against the shore. but unbeknowst to you – something had been watching you back.

make you mine two-shot by @colormepurplex2

i'm a sucker for abo, and as such, have read a looot of it over the years. its a genre that's very easy to descend into wtf-how-are-they-still-alive-after-THAT territory but this fic does it very well in a way i haven't seen too often. i loved the world-building and set up.

Alphas might rule the world, but Jungkook finds himself being ruled by the need to make you his. Omegas are rare, precious, and pliant. At least, most are. When you present late, well into your twenties, you're already set in your headstrong ways; a challenge even for a commanding alpha like Jungkook. Add to that the centuries-long feud between your families and the last thing anyone expected was for him to claim you as his soulmate.

a sea of indigo series by @foxymoxynoona this was the first BTS fic i ever read... and is a big reason as to why i got into the fandom in the first place. i had no clue who they were before then. i'd heard of them + listened to agust d without knowing it was yoongi 💀 but this fic made me check out BTS RUN and now here we are 🤪

Pitbull Hybrid Jungkook has finally been freed from the fighting rings, and now finds himself at Marigold Sanctuary & Transition Estate, a place for healing and self-discovery for rescued hybrids. It's stupid, dumb, cheesy, and hell-bent on helping Jungkook "heal" and "find himself" and "decide the course of his life." And right at the center of it is Y/N, a nurse who's got everyone bamboozled that she's like some awesome person. She's not that great. Jungkook hates it here.

YOONGI FICS

witch oneshot by @sailoryooons

this is easily one of my top 3 yoongi fics. the world building, the tension, the relationship between yoongi and reader. it ticks all my boxes and vividly paints a picture of this universe. i adore the concept, and love the way this fic is brought to life through sailoryooons storytelling.

For years, you and Yoongi have played cat and mouse. It’s his duty to rid the world of witches, but he always finds a new excuse to let you slip through his fingers. When you find yourself at his mercy, you wonder if the great witch hunter will finally end your game of chase, or if there’s something that will stay his hand. 

desolate series by @angelicyoongie

one of the first hybrid fics i've read for bts 😭 i love my lil meow meow and the set-up for this fic is amazing. it takes a fresh direction with the hybrid trope and builds a relationship that feels organic and progresses very naturally💛

you just wanted a cute little normal cat to keep you company. so you're not really sure how you ended up with the grumpiest hybrid on earth that seems hellbent on making your life difficult.

ps. i woof you oneshot by @gimmesumsuga

this one is just so so cute and asjhdjsghfjs!! i adored remi and thought about having yoongi and holly as neighbors for days after reading this lol.

The one with a happy accident of the furry, four-legged kind - “Are you calling my dog a slut?!” 

first and last and always oneshot by @floralseokjin

i'm not one for holiday fics/aus usually but there's something about this one that i absolutely adored. it felt very realistic and drew me into the relationship within the first few paragraphs. the angst is so well done and heartfelt, it made me cry lol.

You and Yoongi broke up two months ago. It was mutual, you’re positive, but there’s one teeny tiny issue... You never told your parents, and now they’ve invited you back home for Christmas. Both of you. You can’t say no, but you also can’t bear to go alone, so you do the only thing you can think of, plead with Yoongi to come with you and pretend like everything’s okay...

go send these authors some love!!

[pookie-mulder]

June 2024 fic roundup

Here are my favorite June reads:

👶📝 Of Our Own Making by @television-overload

I totally forgot to put this on last month’s list! I absolutely loved reading each new chapter every morning at work. I can’t not read a marriage of convenience fic, especially when there’s a baby involved.

💌🦃 Small Lives Awake by Jesemie’s Evil Twin

You know when you read something so sweet, so pure, that you feel like it breaks your heart in the best way? That’s this fic. It’s incredibly fluffy without being cheesy, and the writing style is so elegant.

🏝️👨‍👩‍👦 The Eden Series by Jacque LaVa

Was this the best fic I’ve ever read? No. Was everyone OOC? Definitely. Did I still enjoy it? You bet. I cannot resist the siren call of a survival fic, an amnesia fic, or a kidfic, and this had all three.

👰‍♀️🤵‍♂️ The Marriage Spectacular by @cecilysass

I’ve never met a cecilysass fic I didn’t like, and this was no exception. Fake relationship my beloved! Only one bed my beloved! Mulder and Scully being idiots in love my beloved! Absolutely delightful. 10/10, no notes.

🌀☔️ Hurricane Season by beduini & rah

This fic perfectly captures M&S’s “we’re completely and utterly devoted to each other and literal soulmates yet we still doubt our place in each other’s lives and we never actually talk about it” dynamic that we know and love. It takes place when William is a few months old and they’re still trying to define their relationship. I loved it SO MUCH!

(hmu for an epub — the chapters are long, which makes it easy to lose your place if you don’t finish the chapter in one sitting)

❄️✈️ WHITEOUT by EvanBlack

A classic “Mulder and Scully get in a plane crash and have to survive until help arrives” story. (You all know by now how much I love a survival fic!)

I absolutely adored the dynamic between them in this one. They’re down SO bad for each other, and it shows. I especially loved the beginning when they’re both wishing they were sitting next to each other so they could hold hands. That’s the good stuff right there!

🛁🧪 Antidote by Rachel Howard and Karen Rasch

Mulder and Scully investigate an unknown contagion in a remote town. You can probably guess what happens from there.

This was the perfect road trip read! Engaging and exciting without being too plot-heavy.

🤰👶 40 Weeks by @malibusunset-xf-blog

What if the IVF worked?

The most delectable pregnancy fluff with a dash of smut and a healthy serving of Mulder and Scully figuring out their relationship.

🪶🐎 Omens by @lepusarticus

I cannot say enough good things about this fic. It’s definitely a new addition to the Holy Grail list.

It’s a casefic, but it doesn’t feel like a casefic…more like an exploration of magic and family and love. With its spooky small-town gothic vibe and emphasis on powerful women and strange houses and ancient magic, it reminds me a lot of my favorite book series, The Raven Cycle. (If you liked this fic, you should go read TRC!)

This fic has layers and nuance and themes and motifs and gorgeous metaphors and one incredibly hot scene that ticked all my boxes. Even the OCs are rich and compelling. I would read a whole series set in this universe!

💥🚗 Goshen by Bonetree

Emily angst plus survival plus tending to each other’s injuries plus hurt/comfort? Yes please! I love it when I find a fic that seems to be created in a lab just for me.

(After reading the summaries of the following installments, I’m not quite sure if they’re really my thing. Has anyone read the rest of the series? Did you like it?)

👦🏻🦊 A Boy and His Fox by 6hoursgirl

Mulder and Scully “platonically” coparent their son. Mulder learns what it means to be a dad. Pure, unadulterated fluff! If you like kidfics, this one is a must-read.

📚👩‍⚕️ Heuvelmans’ On the Track by The_Mythopeodic

This fic is a fandom classic, and I can definitely see why. The author uses language in unexpected and interesting ways, which is not something you see very often in fic.

I tend to go for “popcorn” fics that are addictive and easy to binge. This one is more like a hearty slab of meat. Both types are good in their own way, but this fic made me work for it.

Anyway, I got a bit frustrated with myself around the halfway mark and kept having to reread passages a few times to truly understand what’s going on. I lamented that I needed a reading guide like they used to give you in English class.

After putting it aside for a few days, I came back and DEVOURED the second half. I don’t want to spoil anything, but if you’ve read it, you know what I’m talking about. I loooooved seeing Scully be resourceful and scrappy and capable, and the epilogue is incredible. I’m glad I pushed through!

🪡🌨️ Skamania County by Sarie_Fairy

This is actually the second time I’ve read this one, which I didn’t realize until near the end when I tried to leave kudos, haha. Anyway, I loved it both times! It has everything that makes survival fics so enticing: a nice trip to the woods that quickly goes wrong, one person hiding their life-threatening injury from the other, the intimacy of tending to their wounds, cuddling (naked) for warmth, and finally resolving that UST. Chef’s kiss!

🧙‍♀️🔭 The Mars Differential by @asteraceae-blue

This one is a WIP, and I cannot wait for the rest! It’s an intriguing casefile with plenty of msr.

I also read a bunch of @o6666666’s fics thanks to this masterlist that made its way around recently!

They are the master of writing fic that hurts so good. This IVF arc one might be my favorite, along with this season 9 one that squeezed my heart like a stress ball.

[aanoia]

No

James Potter x reader

Summary; James won't give up until he gets a yes

Warnings; James is lowkey and pushover and I'm pretty sure asking someone to go out over and over again is harassment so that too

Words; idk man

Pt. 2

“No.” I said sternly, returning to my book.

“Come on, Y/n, please. One date, then you can be done with me forever.” James pleaded, an easy smirk resting on his face.

“James, I’d rather be done with you right now.” I persisted.

“But you can’t. So, a date?”

“You know this is harassment right?”

“I am very aware. Does tomorrow sound good?”

I scoffed and shook my head, “No.”

He smiled proudly and began walking away, “Tomorrow it is. Meet me in the common rooms at 10, baby.”

I rolled my eyes as Remus laughed quietly beside me as he listened to the interaction.

“Are you gonna go?” He asked quietly.

“Nope.” I sighed and went back to reading.

“I don’t believe you, like at all.” Sirius deadpanned as he sat on the couch in the common room, his fingers gently threading through Remus’s hair who had his head on his lap as he quietly read his book.

“I’m serious, Sirius.” James said, waiting patiently for his date.

“No, I’m Sirius, James.” The boy responded.

James rolled his eyes as the clock rang out, signaling the new hour. It was officially ten. James stood up excitedly, knowing Y/n was always perfectly on time, never early and never late, with the exception of class where she seemed to get there before the dismissal bell even rang. He waited patiently, however the girl never came.

“Oh, Prongs, I knew you were lying.” Sirius said.

“No, she’s coming. She must just be late.”

“She’s never late.”

James ignored him and continued watching the stairs from the Girl’ dormitory. Thirty minutes passed before James sat down with a sigh.

“I’m sorry, James. She probably forg-” Peter paused as he looked up, expecting to see a sulking James, instead, the boy had a smirk on his face, already planning the next way he was going to ask the girl out. It was going to be big this time.

Y/n sat quietly in the Great Hall, working on a potions essay as her friends laughed around her. The mail owls swooped in but Y/n ignored them, not expecting anything. She jumped slightly in surprise when a piece of folded up parchment was dropped in front of her.

“I thought you weren’t expecting anything, Y/n.” Her friend said and Y/n cautiously held the paper in her hands.

“I wasn’t.” She told them and gently opened the paper.

‘Look up.’ It wrote and she furrowed her brows before doing as told. The moment she looked, flower petals of all kinds dropped around her like an endless rain. A small gasp left her lips as she felt her clothes change and she looked down to see herself in a beautiful white, flowy dress. Petals began sewing themselves into the dress, creating pink and red flowers. Her hair had been taken out of its usual ponytail and had been let down and slightly curled as the raining petals weaved themselves into a flower crown around her head. Loud music began playing as students burst into the Great Hall with instruments, causing her to jump slightly. She looked down the table as she heard the Marauders hollering at her with large smiles on their faces.

James stood on the table in a slightly tattered tux, probably from his dad. He held a large sign in his hands. Once Y/n saw what was written she stood up angrily and walked to the end of the table, the petals following her as her dress swished violently behind her.

“Y/n!” James said excitedly and jumped off the table. She didn’t say anything, instead she roughly grabbed his arm and dragged him out of the Great Hall. She led him outside, where the sun was setting.

“What is wrong with you?” Y/n questioned, raising her voice slightly as anger flowed through her veins. “I’ve said no a million times! Why can’t you just take no for an answer and leave me alone! I am so sick and tired of this, James!”

James smiled softly at her. It was different from his usual smirk, this was sweet and adoring.

“You’re beautiful.” He whispered and the girl was slightly taken aback, having never received that compliment from anyone other than her parents and close friends. Never from a boy. “And I will always, always ask you out. Until you say yes, I always will.”

Y/n let an angry sigh from her nose, “I’ll never say yes.” She told him.

“I don’t believe in never.” James said.

“I don’t believe in always.” Y/n countered.

“Well, opposites attract.”

“Never.” She raised her brows.

“Always.” He finished, smirking

[padfootagain]

Bookshelves

Hi everyone ! Here is a cute little something to answer this anonymous request for my 6k event : “I am in love with your writing style 💖😍 Can you make ben Barnes one with trope 16?”

Thank you for your request, anon! Hope you like the cute drabble I wrote for it!

****

Pairing: Ben Barnes x reader

Warnings: so much fluff you will get cavities

Summary: Nothing’s better than reorganizing your bookshelves with the love of your life on a crispy autumnal afternoon…

Word count: 1258 (short but sweet!)

Ben Barnes’s Masterlist – Main Masterlist

The air is crisp and cold and you love it. It’s greyer than the leaves outside, they still wear their orange and red colours. The sky matches the global atmosphere of that afternoon: heavy with upcoming rain, gradients between black and white, smelling of the earth after a storm. You have a warm mug waiting for your lips right by your side, there, on the floor. A warm blanket wrapped around your frame and a fire cracking over cold stones. It’s warm, it’s autumn in all its splendour.

It's a simple afternoon, basked in Eta James’s voice, and it’s easy to forget that tomorrow is just another Monday, that you will have to go to work and get up before dawn and fight the cutting edges of the cold wind against your cheeks. It’s easy to forget that this day will have to end. Especially when Ben’s voice rises from somewhere behind you, a low hum that spreads warmth and reassurance across your heart, makes it skip a few beats in its excitement. He’s humming along the melody, matching the warmth of the saxophone and the quietness of his padding feet against the tiles. When he sits down by your side again, a refill of warm tea in his favourite mug, his hair is dishevelled, wearing an old black hoodie and some sweatpants, along with colourful fuzzy socks.

And you love it. You’ve never found him as stunning as he is now, looking cozy and warm and infinitely intimate in the simplicity of his appearance. Nothing fancy. Nothing done to impress you. You’ve passed this uneasy stage of your relationship a long time ago. You love each other too much now to accept anything from the other but their true self. You admire the curve of his jaw darkened with stubble, and the grace of his eyelashes brushing his pale cheeks, and the enticing beauty spot under his right eye. You’re not even thinking as you reach up to brush his messy dark strands of hair back, out of his face, so you can see him better. He’s smiling, turning towards you as you move your fingers through his hair, just the way he likes it.

“Alright, so… how do we proceed with this?” he asks, something mischievous glinting in his dark eyes, and you can’t supress a smile.

The task at hand is huge: rearranging the bookshelves of two people who adore reading is going to be a mission that will keep you both busy for the whole day. You’re going to love every second of it, no doubt.

“Do you want to reorganize everything by author? Genre? Colour?”

“Author is more practical.”

“Colour is prettier.”

He chuckles, rolling his eyes.

“I will do whatever makes you happy, my darling.”

“Do you want to separate our collections?”

He raises an eyebrow at that.

“We share a last name by now, we’re done compartmentalizing stuff and labelling them as ‘yours’ or ‘mine’. Whenever you’re sick, even your bloody virus becomes mine…”

You laugh at that, playfully pinching his thigh.

“Hey! It’s not my fault if you caught my cold last month! I told you to stop cuddling me, and you didn’t!”

“You looked too miserable. I was feeling too bad for you…”

The admittance is a mix of fondness, shyness and something extra-sweet that your heart can’t handle. It quickens its pace as it overloads.

“Right, so… we’re putting them all together, but how? Because for now, our books are a mess.”

“I vote authors. Because I’m an organised person,” Ben argues, but you pull your tongue at him at the playful teasing in his tone.

“I vote colours, cause it’s more aesthetically pleasing.”

“I vote for whatever makes you happy, cause I’m a clever lad, and I know I need to pick my battles in this relationship…”

“Clever lad, indeed!”

You exchange a laugh and a tender kiss, before starting to empty the shelves, Ben standing up to take the books out and passing them to you so you could organize them in piles.

It takes what looks like forever to empty all the shelves fully. You have mountains of books around you by the time you’re done, and Ben has changed the music to some Louis Armstrong and his trumpet. It has started to rain, and you have to turn on the lights as the sky turns a darker shade of grey. The rhythmic pattern of the rain against the windowpane and the rooftop warms your heart, and draws white clouds over the windows.

Ben is becoming increasingly distracted though. By the time the shelves are empty, he’s restless and keeps on playfully pushing your legs with his feet.

“Stop it!” you smack his foot away when he attacks again, making him giggle in the most adorable way.

“Let’s take a break,” he argues with such an adorable pout, you are this close from yielding, but you don’t, shaking your head.

“Come on, we can cuddle after we’re done with this,” you offer, and you notice the grin he fails to hide.

“In bed?”

“In bed.”

“Can I be little spoon?”

“If you want to, sure.”

This time he gives you a proper grin, bright and full of mischief.

“Oh, that’s a deal! Hurry up!”

You laugh at him as he starts picking piles of books, but he quickly slows down to organize the shelves correctly.

And you love it, it’s so satisfying to reorganize your bookshelves. You add some figurines, some cute pictures of the two of you as decoration to fill up the empty spaces on the shelves. And then it’s finally done, complete.

“I have to admit that the rainbow thingy looks stunning. Highly impractical, but stunning.”

“I think so myself!”

Ben drinks up the cold remnants of his tea, wincing at the nasty taste.

“We did such a good job! All our books finally put together in a pretty way!”

Ben hums in agreement, wrapping his arm around your shoulders to hold you closer, dropping a sweet kiss to your head.

“We did an excellent job!”

That’s when he realizes that his favourite figurine is missing. He looks around frantically, but you merely chuckle as you point towards the coffee table.

“Marty’s over there,” you joke, and he heaves a relieved sigh, walking over to get his Back to the Future figurine, and he places it on a shelf.

“Now, it’s perfect!” he chimes, turning towards you. “And I think we deserve to rest now.”

“You mean… cuddle?”

“Of course, I mean cuddle! You promised I would get cuddles out of this, do not break your word!”

You laugh at him but follow him anyway, teasing him some more while you make your way to your bedroom.

A few minutes later, you are buried under blankets, watching the rain fall on your windows, the touches of red from the trees in the distance, Ben tugged into your side, his head buried in the warmth of your neck as you stroke gently his back.

He heaves a content sigh.

“I love you, darling,” he whispers into your skin. “God… I’m so happy right now. This is the best, isn’t it? Just… doing the simplest of things together. Just… doing nothing. Just… being here, together.”

You hum, kissing his forehead, and you notice then that he has closed his eyes. He’ll soon fall asleep, he often does when you hold him like this. He can’t help it. He feels so peaceful in your arms, safe, untroubled.

“Yeah… yeah, I think that’s the best, indeed…”

[daichiduskdrop]

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚⋆·˚ ༘ *𝙎𝙣𝙤𝙬 𝙖𝙣𝙜𝙚𝙡 ⋆·˚ ༘ *ੈ✩‧₊˚

Chapter 37

Pairing: BTS Ot7 X fem! reader

Genre: A/B/O AU, Fluff, Angst, Strangers to lovers,

Warnings: None! Enjoy!

Words: 3547

A/N: I have added a small part from the book Thinking Fast and Slow by Daniel Kahneman, and all credit goes to the original writer.

Lots of love, thank you for the support

Taglist: @thelilbutifulthings @ilovemoneymorethenmen @singukieee @cherrysainttt @felicityroth @mageprincess7 @lucis-noctiana @danielle143 @osakis-gf @girl-nahh @vintageoldfashionstyle-blog @neverthefirstchoice @juju-227592 @silentreadersthings @i-have-no-life-charlie @everyonehatesshani @iamkookiesforyou @dragons-flare @fangirl125reader @roseidol @frieschan @popcatx0 @liz67900 @exfolitae @plexcaffeinate @strawblueberrys @massivelyfullenthusiast @iimichie

(open)

Previous:

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Namjoon looked at you gently, his eyes caring. The alpha reached for a book he had been reading for a while now, Thinking Fast and Slow by Daniel Kahneman.

The packalpha kept you close as you layed sweetly tucked away with Jimin and Jungkook on each side of you. The youngest alpha layed in front of you, his eyes sweet and caring on your form.

The young man wasn't able to go to sleep; he was far too worried about you to truly rest. Even when your scent has lifted by now and you don't seem as upset anymore, he was still worried in the back of his mind.

Instead, you just seemed tired and yawny and definitely had enough for the day. They all knew well why this happened and that it would be for the best if you would get to rest up for a while longer.

And so, when your hand reached up and nudged against Namjoon's, looking up at the packalpha with those eyes he learned to adore over time. Looking up at him in hope, he couldn't help but coo at you.

„Aigoo, aren't you just the cutest baby?" He said under his breath, smiling softly so that his dimples showed, letting his much bigger hand cover yours.

You squeezed his fingers slightly, letting your interwoven fingers rest next to you as Namjoon got into reading, his calming timber filling the large room.

"The two systems of thought can best be understood as separate and complementary modes of processing information.

System 1 operates automatically and quickly, without explicit attention or conscious effort or awareness. It operates on the basis of heuristics, the mental shortcuts that allow us to process and respond to the world with remarkable efficiency.

System 2, by contrast, is slow and effortful. It operates with deliberate attention, logical analysis, and conscious reasoning. Although we can voluntarily direct our attention and choose to engage System 2, in most instances, we rely on System 1.

The two systems work in tandem, but they do not work in harmony. System 1 often leads us astray because of its tendency to produce easy, quick, and emotionally pleasing responses that we accept without questioning.

System 2, by contrast, is capable of correcting the errors of System 1, but it takes time and effort to do so."

The packalpha's voice was gentle, calming your eyes as you watched Jungkook's rising and falling chest.

You rested calmly, the oldest of the three alphas settling you down even further. All of the plush and comfortable blankets and fabrics you were tucked away into felt comfortable on your skin.

You didn't understand everything Namjoon was reading to you about, but you found comfort in his presence, and while poetry was sometimes complicated with the language for you, you liked it a lot when he would read for you. And so you listened closely.

„Another key aspect of the two systems of thought is that they are influenced by different types of motivation. System 1 is motivated by the desire for immediate gratification and pleasure, whereas System 2 is motivated by the desire for accuracy and logic.

This means that our mental processes are often influenced by our goals and emotions, which can lead to biases and errors in our thinking and decision-making. It is important to be aware of these biases and to use System 2 to correct for them when possible.”

„Oppa?” You asked softly, playing with the packalpha's fingers as the man looked over to you, the book in hand that was borrowed from the library.

While the alpha owned stacks upon stacks of books, full bookcases in his room until he couldn't get any more, just stacking the stories onto themselves on the floor or any space available.

He has enjoyed going to the libraries since forever. He used to go there to study growing up, but he always loved reading, and the relationship developed as he grew older.

The man didn't get to go that often to see new stories as much as he wished he could, but whenever he could, he left with a bunch to read, even though he knew he wouldn't have enough time to read everything.

He loved visiting bookstores, especially whenever they went to different countries. Sometimes, his packmates would get angry at him for his suitcase going over the weight limit (even though he packed less to keep space for the books he would bring home! ).

„Hm?” He hummed softly, looking at you with soft eyes. He leaned closer to brush your hair behind your ear, smiling at you.

„Do you like cupcakes?" You asked almost in a whisper, your grip tightening onto his fingers.

Even when the mall trip didn't go as well as everyone hoped it might, you remember the sweet time you shared with Jimin earlier this morning when you and him baked.

The almond cupcakes with butter cream that you so carefully decorated and prepared with the sweet help of the alpha were still waiting in the fridge.

You weren't sure if any of the alphas had seen them yet or even had a bite or taste of them, but you really hoped that they would like them. They would, right?

„Of course I do, little pup, do you?” The packalpha wasn't sure where the question came from, but he watched you lovingly.

You nodded. The times when you got to have a sweet treat weren't many, but the last time you tasted a cupcake, probably in elementary school in a baking class, was a nice memory you kept.

„M-Me and Jimin-Oppa made cupcakes for every-one." You whispered softly, having Jungkook's sleepy eyes open wider, soon creasing as he smiled, his teeth showing.

Namjoon followed suit, his dimples on full display as he leaned over, leaving sweet pecks on your forehead.

„Really? Awh, babybun!” The youngest gushed, his arms wrapping you closer to his chest, having Jimin grumble lightly from his deep sleep.

The alpha slept calmly, with occasional soft snores leaving him. He felt content with you in his arms, your back right against his chest as he breathed calmly.

The third youngest made sure you were kept warm and cuddly, as during sleep his body naturally turned warmer as a natural reaction to your omega sleepy scent in close proximity for a longer time.

„That's so sweet of you, pup. Should alphas have a taste now?” The packalpha asked gently, not sure if that was what you wanted.

You nodded bashfully; you really wanted to see their reaction. Before you could say anything, Jimin woke up, lightly rising up as he blinked away his sleep.

„Hyung, you didn't tell me about making cupcakes with babybun!” Jungkook grumbled; he wanted to be the first one to cook with you. Though the eldest would surely be even more jealous,..

Jimin hummed, too sleepy to realise what he was necessarily saying, as he ruffled up his hair, looking over at the alpha, who sported a not too deeply meant frown.

To be truthful, the youngest alpha was still far too excited about the promised sweet treats to get really upset at his hyung for keeping away the exciting news, and he wasn't too upset in general either.

„Come on, bun bun, let's go!” The youngest said happily, picking you up quickly before Jimin could realise that you were suddenly out of his arms; he was already on his way.

The packalpha soon followed, chuckling at Jimin, who grumbled out a soft: What? as he watched you be carried away to the kitchen, closing the book and putting it away.

The two alphas who currently stood in the kitchen, Taehyung and Yoongi, preparing spring rolls, looked over, both smiling at seeing your still slightly dazed, ruffled-up state.

Both of the men had aprons on; the older was in charge of frying and preparing the few different fillings, while the younger helped with folding the spring rolls and making the side dishes.

„Hi kitty.” Yoongi said gently, his gummy smile on full display, as he turned back around to take out the crispy spring rolls.

They made three types, one vegetarian and the other two with meat. The first batch they prepared was already finished, with the filling consisting of cabbage, carrots, cilantro, garlic, and shallots with sesame oil and soy sauce, sugar, and a little rice vinegar and sriracha.

Taehyung was good with the folding; the rice paper never folded over itself, and he was clever in making sure to not place any of them too close to one another so when they would stick to one another.

„Babycheeks, do you want to have a taste? We are still making two more types; will you tell alphas which is your favourite?” You nodded sweetly, going over to the alpha, who smiled widely at you.

He picked up the still warm roll with chopsticks, dipping it into a sauce before he fed it to you, smiling as he saw you chew.

It was crispy but chewy, the filling delicious, and the sauce made the flavours pop even more. You nodded vigorously as you chewed, happy to have tasted something so nice.

„Is it a good kitten?” Yoongi asked gently, stirring the pan with the filling for another batch. This time it had shrimp and ground pork in it, along with fish sauce and some other things like cabbage and carrots.

„It's really tasty, oppa!” You exclaimed, your voice uplifted and happy, as you swallowed before speaking. You were very excited for dinner.

„Princess? Where did you go? ” Jimin's raspy voice from sleep mumbled, the alpha coming over to hug you close, letting his chin rest upon your head.

You hugged the alpha back, your arms wrapping around his waist. He kept you close, letting his scent go over you even more than had already happened.

„Hyung, the cupcakes!” Jungkook hoped to see them already, wanting to have a taste.

„Cupcakes?” Taehyung turned around from spooning the filling into the softening rice paper, his eyes filled with questions and a soft smile on his face. Yoongi looked over his shoulder too, but made sure to pay attention to the frying process.

"Yeah, pup and Jimin-ah made cupcakes for everyone this morning, right?” You nodded in response, agreeing with Namjoon's words. The alpha that helped you hummed softly, agreeing.

„You kept it secret, Hyung!" Tae gasped, acting as if Jimin had betrayed him. The older alpha chuckled.

„You don't have to eat them, Tae-ah." At his words, the younger gasped in offence, abandoning the now freshly folded spring roll and turning around, bewildered eyes on the older.

„Hyung!” 

„I'm just joking; don't stress yourself; you'll get white hair."

„You're older; if anyone, you'll be the one with white hair!"

As Jimin went to disagree, your soft giggles interrupted them instead, smiling at them.

„Oppa, look!” You said gently, holding a tray full of the baked cupcakes. Jungkook was already holding one as he chewed on it, and Namjoon was just taking one himself.

Before the two, playfully arguing alphas could realise what was happening, Yoongi himself walked over, praising your work. 

„They look really tasty, my kitten. Can I have one too?” He asked you gently, looking at the sprinkles and edible flowers you decorated the carefully done butter cream on top. 

„Of course oppa!” You said, the man smiling even wider at your answer, leaning over to give you a caring forehead kiss, letting his hands caress your cheeks before he took one of the corner ones too. 

„Bunny you have to bake more often, these are delicious!” Jungkook gushed, happily humming as he chewed, very pleased with the sweet treat. 

The youngest was used to keeping a strict diet in check, but he would always make an exception for you. Gosh, he would do anything if he would get to have such sweet treats everyday. 

It was fluffy, the batter rose so well, and the buttercream was airy and creamy, and overall a great mix of sweet and sour. 

„Oh wow...” Namjoon whispered, tasting the cupcake. Both Jimin and Taehyung bounded over by then, each grabbing one themselves. 

The younger hummed loudly, nodding at the taste, agreeing with everyone. 

„You're so clever babycheeks! Alpha is very proud.” He said softly, letting you set the tray onto the dining table before he hugged you close, his chin going over your head as he gently rubbed your arms. 

You smiled bashfully, not used to getting so many compliments. Just then Jin came inside, freshly showered with his hair only towel dried. 

The eldest packmember's cheeks were tinted pink and he wore comfortable clothes. He was quick to notice everyone in the room eating the sweet treat, looking for the source himself. Before he got to ask though, Jungkook already bounded over. 

„Hyung, have one too! Babybun and Jimin hyung made cupcakes, they are so good!” 

„Really? Aigoo, you're so sweet cub, making a sweet treat for everyone?” He gushed, crouching slightly before you as he pecked your forehead, Taehyung's arms still wrapped around you. 

„Oppa helped a-a l-lot...” You whispered softly, feeling bad that they were constantly complimenting you, but the alpha who helped you so much wasn't as praised. 

„No, no my princess. I only helped with the mixing, you did everything yourself!” Jimin was quick to let you know, as he smiled at you. The cupcakes were really tasty...

„Is that so? Aren't you just the most clever, little pup. Alpha is very proud of you.” The packalpha said gently, pouring himself a cup of water as he gently watched over you, leaning against the counter. 

Seokjin was quick to take one himself, and when he got the first bite of the sweet heaven, his eyes widened, quickly finishing the cupcake in a few bites. 

„Peaches it's really tasty! Let's bake more often baby, did you have fun?” At your smiley nod, he gently combed through your hair, already planning the different cakes and treats he would make with you. 

The alphas had you take a seat at the dining table, talking to you as they prepared all of the cutlery and plates, glasses and various dishes. 

„...Of course you can come with us little kitten, we wouldn't mind. You'll just have to make sure to stick close, okay?” You said an okay, looking forward to when they would take you to their group photoshoot tomorrow. 

The packalpha knew that it would require them being very careful, considering you would most likely be entering a slightly busy workspace, but they would always be close by to make sure you were okay. 

You would get a VIP pass, and would stick close, and surely you would be okay. Maybe, if you would feel like it, they could take a group photo with you too... 

When they would make an announcement, it might come in handy, to have a truly well photographed group picture with the whole pack to post online. 

They haven't really talked about when the news would be released to the public, they would have to discuss it with their managers too and set on a precise date.

Namjoon wasn't truly keen on making a structured, email-like message that would come from HYBE directly to the ARMY. Maybe mentioning it in a podcast or a radio show would be smarter and less in everyone's face.

Even when they hoped with every fibre of their being, there were bound to be people disagreeing with this, and so they needed to be careful with the backlash, especially the one purely directed at you.

He could only imagine how stressful this would be for you, and so as a well-structured pack, they knew it would be best for you to have as much time as needed.

They had to figure out more things beforehand anyway; for example, the den was important for everyone, and it would be sweet and precious to have a nice and calm Christmas and New Year too.

The pack has already planned a few upcoming trips and events with you; some they have discussed more, some left only in the back of their minds as an idea to share in the future.

And Jin had a small idea like this at the back of his head for a little while by now, and so, today while you were away at the mall and in the morning with Jimin, the oldest alpha found a little gap in his busy schedule for it.

He had voice training and dance practices pretty much the entire day and got home earlier this afternoon, but before then, he took a short trip to a few clothing boutiques, hoping to find something he was looking for.

The alpha was planning to buy you a swimsuit, but since he wasn't sure of your exact measurements, after a short discussion with the store assistant, he left the few luxury stores with different sizes and styles, hoping at least one of these would be comfortable enough for you to wear with no worries.

Jin didn't know what colours or patterns you would go for; heck, he didn't even know if you would like to go swimming with them. But surely, since you wanted to go to Hawaii to see the sea turtles, you wouldn't mind the water?

And so, the alpha was left with many decisions to face, but in the end, he chose enough of everything so he hoped to get it all covered.

He could imagine you being way too frightened to try swimwear on in the try-on rooms, and so his best bet was to save the receipts and return any that you wouldn't like and wouldn't fit right.

As you all took a seat at the table, a freshly purchased peach juice they knew you liked and wouldn't upset your tummy in a tall glass before you, all of the pack members dug in.

You had a few neatly placed spring rolls on your plate, along with some side dishes like kim-chi or the sweet radish Namjoon plated for you.

„It's really nice, oppa!” You gasped, having the second oldest who sat next to you show a gummy smile, the man saying a soft thank you.

Truth be told, Yoongi was on his knees for you.

„...And what about the Harry Potter series?” You shook your head at Jimin's question, the man's eyes widening.

„We have to watch it, princess! I think you would love it!” He gasped, and Jungkook and Hoseok, who'd come over to the table as soon as the dinner was served, nodded at his thought.

„How about we watch one of the movies tonight, Sunny Bub?" He asked you gently, taking another fried roll into his chopsticks before he placed it on your table, noticing that you only had about two left.

You nodded happily, smiling widely with your eyes creasing slightly.

„Okay...” You said softly, looking forward to the movie. The dinner continued, with everyone enjoying the well-prepared meal.

„Cub?” You looked up from drinking, your eyes meeting Jin's gaze for a little second before you set the glass down, the alpha's sweet eyes watching over you. You hummed in question, listening.

„Would you like to go swimming with alphas tomorrow? We don't have to if you don't want to,-" though, the older man was interrupted by your vigorous nodding and excited gaze.

You didn't swim in years; honestly, you weren't too good at it, but there was always something about it that seemed so fun and calming to you, unless you weren't in too much of a deep water, of course.

"B-But, oppa, I don't have a swi-msuit..." You mumbled, only now remembering.

„It's okay, baby, I went to look for some this morning. Would you like to see them?” You gasped quietly before you nodded happily, sliding off of your chair before you hurried over to the oldest alpha.

Jin took your hand in his, and the other pack members smiled sweetly at your excitement as they started to clean up the table, happy that your mood had lifted even after the terrible afternoon.

„Are we going swimming in the morning then?” Taehyung asked. They would have to leave by ten in the morning at the latest to go for the photoshoot, and they would most likely come back home late in the evening.

„I think so, yeah..." Namjoon said patiently, loading the dishwasher with the others.

„I'm not going to swim in the ice cold morning hell no-” Yoongi went to grumble. Why would he go swimming when he could be sleeping?

„But Hyung, have you seen Sunny's face? She is so excited!” Hoseok gasped, looking at the older man in disbelief. That would break your heart!

Yoongi sighed, closing his eyes for a little while. Sometimes, he would have to sacrifice his sleep for something—or rather, someone—more important.

„...fine.” 

The alpha grumbled, shaking his head as he left to go to his room and shower, already expecting them to rest once again together. You would probably fall asleep during the movie, as he could imagine.

Truly, he loved to rest and nap with you on any occasion. You were naturally sleepy and cuddly, and so the alpha that was able to fall asleep anywhere loved to keep you company while you rested.

Yoongi has truly gone soft for an omega—something he didn't think could ever happen to him.

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Next:

[sseanettles]

@lasarusbird you wanted my essay sooo I’m gonna word vomit for a bit about the dichotomy of Arthur Holmwood/Lucy Westenra and Jonathan Harker/Mina Murray and it's gonna be really rambley and not fully fleshed out and start with me just going off about lucy and then forced emotional repression so bear with me but likeeeeee okay. okay. hm.

I know there are less kind (& tbh likely on point to stoker’s authorial intent given he was a Victorian man) analyses to do of the women in this book and their relationships and of lucy specifically & her whole portrayal/her death/the way Stoker’s vampiricism vilifies women for having a sexuality and how a staking death is very phallic apparently and Lucy’s death was “overly graphic.” but like. I think that’s a highly unimaginative, easy take because. um.

there’s also an entirely different way to read it?????

(to preface, I am a romantic sex-repulsed/indifferent ace, so I really, truly adore Lucy and relate so fucking hardcore to the whole loves big, loves broadly, it’s confusing, it’s hard, you don’t want to hurt people but do not mistake my intent thing, and the horror of being twisted into something that went from loving broadly and romantically and within her own control to lusting uncharacteristically with an insatiable hunger with no other drive than to hurt and to drain just….really hits in a way that I get can offend allosexual folks but like for me is a very deep-hitting horror.)

So anyway the BIG fucking thing for me is that it's NOT that lucy is “punished” for wanting three husbands. Dracula does not pick her because she dared to have desires. Lucy’s big-hearted love kept her alive for so much longer than Dracula intended. Lucy’s love saves her for as long as it can, it staves off Dracula for as long as it can until that gluttonous, cruel being who seeks only to destroy, who seeks to covet and absorb and steal, finally, finally gets what he came for. Lucy’s love fills her with the blood of four men, pulls her from the edge of death time and time again, but because she’s a sleepwalker, because her mother thinks she knows best, because the gang doesn’t communicate openly and effectively and honestly with each other, because they can’t talk openly and honestly with Lucy’s mother given her own illness (and as someone who literally works with heart patients for a living, the high stress will kill them thing at ESHF is very real), because her husband is not home to see the extent and speed of her deterioration because he is simultaneously tending to his beloved, dying father, because Dracula gets what he wants once he’s decided he wants it, Lucy dies. Lucy dies, in the end, because she is alone.

Lucy lived as long as she did because she loved so much. And because so many loved her.

She is not penalized for her love. Her love keeps her alive for as long as it can until the unstoppable march of the Count claims its final victory.

And Arthur…Arthur knows about her love for Seward and Quincey!!! When he goes to Lucy’s body after her first death, he brings Seward in with him. He tells him I know you loved her, she told me, and she loved you, you were her best friend, she told me everything. He does not hate Seward. There is no jealousy, no grandstanding, no you had your fling, your fleeting romance, but she was mine, your grief has no business here. There is instead I loved her. And I know you loved her, too. And I know she loved you. Please…please come with me. Please stand in my grief with me, because I know it’s your grief, too. There is Quincey staying with Arthur throughout his mourning, keeping him steadfast company because his grief is Arthur's grief and reverse, there is Quincey giving Mina a passing glimpse into his own grief that he keeps smothered down to tend to Arthur as best as he can.

And yes, you can read this as the “mother-ing” of the women, the diminishing of them to the angel in the house and the caretaker.

But you can also read it as a pulling back of the curtain on the tragedy and pain that is existing in a world that demands such stoicism of men in the face of such loss and grief. Arthur lost his wife, killed his wife, and he is not allowed to mourn openly. He has no less than three separate breakdowns, and the only one who gives him the space to lean into it, to fully release to body-wracking sobs and self-harm, is Mina. Mina is the only one who has a place in Victorian society that allows her to feel grief to that depth (hell we STILL fucking deal with that toxic bullshit mindset today), and Arthur needs that space, he is denied that space, he is denied that release, and until he steps into Mina’s world, he has been suffering on a level that cannot be healed for a man in this society. But Mina’s world gives that mercy. Patriarchy is a double-edged sword. And Quincey gets a passing touch of that mercy too when he sees Mina’s own emotional aftermath to Arthur’s breakdown and offers her some compassion for her pain, for Arthur’s pain. Which is why they all react in the way that they do to Mina’s gentleness and kindness (hey, Harker, your wife is a goddess among women). It’s not oh look, fucking mother-role and caretaker and angel-wife strikes again.

It's you have an emotional intelligence and freedom I so desperately need but cannot access for myself. I have never been given this. I don’t know how to do it. How do you do this, how do you mourn like this, Arthur is shouldering the grief of his father, his wife, his mother-in-law, the grief of his friends, of Mina—how does a single man bear all of this?

The answer is, he doesn’t. He shouldn’t. He should be allowed to cry and to scream and to sob and to beat his hands upon his head and to weep like a child because this is so much pain. It is so much pain, and it needs to be released, and he is not allowed by societal script and mandate to do so.

Until Mina enters.

You can read it as perpetuation of the same sexist dysfunction. Of the separation of the spheres and of emotional labor.

You can also read it from today as a (likely accidental) critique of it…as a good god, look at this extra level of tragedy. Look at this extra level of fucked up. Look at how this system has failed everyone in it. And look at how they are starting to chip away at the boundaries of it all by talking to each other, by sharing in their love, in their pain, in their sorrow. Look at how it binds them together and in the end lifts them to victory over the Count who operates by isolating and coveting.

Anyway. Now we get into Arthur vs. Jonathan. Because oh MAN do I have thoughts and I know we all go feral over Jonathan and Mina and for like. Obvious reasons. But if we can also go apeshit a bit over Arthur/Lucy uhhhhhhhh I would love that folks okay let me get on my soap box real quick.

Jonathan/Mina and Arthur/Lucy are two sides of the same coin. We all know all the pages and pages of meta about Jonathan and Mina that we’ve all written about the Victorian Addamses of it all and the “I would damn my soul to stay at your side” and the “if you’re damned, I’m damned with you” and the sickbed wedding in a world where the man was the breadwinner and the financial and inheriting power, if he was disabled or insane or died, you as a woman were fucked. We know all that. We were all at the devil’s sacrament, we’re all that good place meme. And I do adore them very much.

But Arthur/Lucy.....Arthur/Lucy is “you asked me to bring you peace…and even if it robs me of mine forever more, I shall bring you peace.” Arthur/Lucy is “I will open my veins for you until there is nothing left to open, even if our hope of a happy ending is slimmer than that Arthurian sword at sunrise, I will open my veins for you and I would fill you with my own self until I am on death’s threshold myself.” Arthur/Lucy is “you are my wife. And our vow was til death do us part, and I will honor that. I will honor that, I will ensure that death has truly parted us, til death do us part, and this is not death, so I will not yet be parted from you.”

Arthur/Lucy is “like the figure of Thor.” And this part is what makes me so goddamn feral over them. Okay, so I’ve done quite a lot of research into Norse mythology both for my own interest and as a pagan and particularly through sources that do their best to separate (to the best of our historic ability) Nordic faith from Christian missionary distortion and common misrepresentations that exist because of that lens. And one of the big ones Thor is not a battle god or a war god or anything like that. If you’re thinking battle frenzy beserker that’s actually O∂inn. What Thor was the god of was the god of hallowing. Thor rendered things holy/drove out dark and troublesome elements. Lightning, thunder, the hammer--all means of that hallowing. Thor was a defender, a god of honorable men and honorable fighters. Thor was invoked at weddings to bless the newly married couple and the life they were about to embark upon together…to bless the way ahead to be traveled.

Now, again, I doubt Bram Stoker knew this. I doubt that was what he intended as he had Seward describe Arthur staking vampire Lucy as “like the figure of Thor.” But it is, nonetheless, what he has written on an actual factual level.

And that (please read sarcastically) “phallic, overly violent, misogynist” death scene that “punishes Lucy for having desires?” With the imagery of Thor, god of hallowing, the blesser of marriage and unfolding life, husband to Sif goddess of the earth’s fertility…that becomes a husband fulfilling his vows to his wife. That becomes him honoring their vows in the way they never could because the Count robbed them of their future. That becomes him reclaiming Lucy’s soul and spirit and heart and love from the Count, giving it back to her, to how she existed and how she loved and how she lived, because that is what a husband and wife do. They safeguard each other, and he promised. He promised he would give her peace. He promised he would love her and protect her. And so, he kills the monster that had made a home within his wife’s body, banishes it from his beloved’s form until she is herself again. Until she belongs to herself again and is granted peace in God’s rest. And yeah. The monster writhes and screams and sprays blood everywhere because it’s an animal getting put down with a stake. There is a lot of blood in a body that has been drinking nothing but blood. If you want to read that sexually, go for it. You can also just. Not. Do that. Also, she made her main food source kids, what the fuck do you mean Lucy’s vampiricism is unhinged sexuality. As a vampire, she tries to lure (if I remember right) exactly one man to her, her husband, with a temptress’ voice and trance state. When it doesn’t work, she doesn’t start luring men left and right which is what she should have done if her vampiricism was truly punishing her for “sexual desire of multiple men.” Instead, she lures children to her and eats them as a twisting of the mother she would have been. She becomes the perversion of the life that was stolen from her, of the future the Count robbed from them. And Arthur gives her back to herself. He gives her the peace that she asked Van Helsing on her deathbed to give her.

Even if it destroys him. Even if it leaves him sobbing and wrecked. Even if it brings him such pain, even if it distresses him so much that he is just drenched in sweat and collapses at the end not from exertion but from the sheer emotional and psychological toll it took on him, even through all of it….

Where Jonathan looked Mina in the eye when she said “do not let me turn into this godforsaken monster” and he replied “I’m sorry but I cannot promise that, I cannot kill you, but I can promise you won’t be alone,” Arthur Holmwood looked his beloved Lucy in the eye, kissed her on the brow, and said “no matter how it pains me, I promise I won’t leave you barred from your peace.” Where Jonathan went from sweet and wide-eyed to the world to jaded and driven and almost angry, Arthur went from generous but solemn lord-in-waiting to a vulnerable and open, kind, sorrow-edged man. Jonathan’s pain drove him inward. Arthur’s drove him outward.

And call me basic…but I see you, Lord No-Don’t-Call-Me-Godalming-Not-Yet. I see you, Arthur Thor Holmwood. I see you, Mister Peacegiver. And I give you your flowers.

up next a rant about claims that van helsing was creepy with lucy on her deathbed or infantilizes only the women