#What Ever. I've said my piece in private places.

[shehungers]

IMPOSTER

possessed!scholar husband x reader |18+| 3.8k

in an act of self-preservation, your family marries you off into an exorbitantly wealthy family. it's a loveless marriage to a reclusive and reticent man. one day, he informs you of leaving to handle the last affairs of his deceased uncle's estate. when he later returns, you're convinced this man is not your husband...

story warnings; dark content, dubcon, explicit sexual details, masturbation (mc), mirror sex, implications of sadism, classism, animal death (mentioned briefly), grotesque details + body horror, murder, pseudo-victorian setting, I am well aware that this is not how Victorian marriages would've gone — bite me 👊🏻, detail + prose heavy, roughly proofread

this is a concept piece #1 for my upcoming project: the lord of phantasm. please let me know if you'd like me to post the other concept pieces!

reposted from my deleted blog: theoxenfree.

if you enjoyed, please leave feedback + reblog to help your girl out 💓

In the airless dark of your bedroom at night, you knew the man lying next to you under covers was not your husband. Once he had been, but now he no longer was.

The revelation had come to you before noticing the stillness of his broad frame in bed, certain stiffness which seemed more alike to rigor in a days old corpse rather than a man wrapped in the comforting spell of deep sleep.

His breaths were silent, if he even breathed at all, reminding you of childhood where the floorboards wouldn't creak so loudly if you sucked all the air out from your lungs into your throat, snagging it, holding it firm. Suddenly, you'd be lighter; effervescent; floating across the wooden slabs towards the kitchen past midnight, or out the front door during the years where testing your parent’s patience and fraying the head maid’s nerves was your favorite thing to do.

You’d learned later on, after the loveless vows and complicated legality behind joining your two families, that your husband had a knack for slipping away at night as well. Only, he wasn't at all the sort for flirtatious gallivanting and loquacious rendezvous with secret lovers in dim rooms, smells of mildew masked by a numbingly sweet, perfumey fog.

He was reclusive and reticent; one of those outstandingly brilliant scholars who believed the rest of the world was below him because he hadn't found an equal in conversation or thought. Social obligations—no matter the occasion or person—pained him to where he intentionally brought you as a buffer between himself and whomever was trying to speak to him.

Some of the talk was so astronomically beyond you that parroting the long-winded answers he spoke softly into your ear back to his audience made you burn under the collar from embarrassment and his proximity to you. His peers could not understand why he simply wouldn't talk for himself; meanwhile, they also wondered why someone without their level of formal education had even accompanied him.

At night, he became one with darkness and retreated to the depths of his study across the massive house you shared together. It was part of one of his family’s various estates dotted across the country and his favorite, due to its location near the university where he worked (at his leisure), and its closeness to his only relative he actually cared about.

“My uncle—he has passed. Of complications caused from tuberculosis, I've been told. I was the only family member placed in his will, therefore it falls to me to settle all remaining affairs he may have overlooked,” he said, letting you help him into his heavy, wool coat he left on a hook near the front door. At his side was a hulking suitcase; one he often used for trips that were days—weeks away from home, from you. “He was a far more private man than I, so there's no telling what I'll come across while I'm there. I cannot tell you how long I'll be away. I'm sorry.”

You expected nothing less from him. This man who had only ever touched you once, on your wedding day. He did everything that he was supposed to: tonelessly regurgitate scripted vows he committed to memory, hold your hands, and kiss you at the altar for more than two seconds but less than five, and then gently lead you away once both families were pleased with the performance.

Right after, now as newlyweds, he poured bourbon into exquisite crosshatch crystalware and examined the glistening amber under wan lamplight. He apologized for kissing you, that he wouldn't have had at all if it hadn't been so important for your families.

At the time, it made you feel very ugly and undeserving of the silk and ornate lacework decorating your body. The gold band fitted around your finger was a lofty symbol of acquired wealth, heavy and unforgiving.

“Write to me every once and a while,” was all you could think to say at present, managing your composure well enough as he gripped the handle of his suitcase and leaned into its heftiness on that side. “It'd just be nice to know how you're doing. If you find anything interesting. When you'll be coming home. It gives me something to look forward to.”

“I'll try to,” he said, but looked through you, pierced you, as though trying to see something else. You saw this look most often at events or parties where he'd fixate on a specific point (usually you) and seem to recede inside himself, into his thoughts, perhaps trying to dissect them or make them congeal into something linear.

“Uncle was an eccentric man. There's no telling what he's left behind for me to find. I must go. Be well, my dear.”

Once again, he left you behind without remorse.

Four months passed with agonizing, gripping slowness from the crisp mornings of late autumn into the icy vise of winter and a shimmering white-blue landscape outside your windows. In those days, you occupied yourself as best you could with guests and alcoholic merriment, whisked yourself away to parties and dinners after wringing out the invitations from friends, and spent many sleepless nights sprawled across the floor beside the fireplace coveting self-pleasure.

You imagined it was your husband there with you, immediately a renewed man after his return and finding you boundlessly desirable, fucking you with his cock rather than the freezing metal dildo you thrust inside yourself.

Even once you were finished, fucked out by your own hand and the object gaping you wide, you kept masturbating until you lost sensation, the motions and metal numbing you inside—until the intimacy and thrill of self-discovery had lost meaning to you.

Sometimes, you were found the next morning by a maid like that: thoroughly debauched with the phallus having rolled away nearby or still shallowly pressed inside. You only needed to threaten her livelihood once for her to never speak of it, pretend each time she hadn't witnessed a regrettable case of personal depravity.

It'd eventually become a frequent enough sight to her that she knew better than to look directly at you when she entered the room. Rather, now, she carried a laundered pair of trousers in with her. They were draped neatly over a bent arm, along with a warm and soapy rag in her hand, which she used to lightly clean you of dried fluids. Afterward, she helped you into the new garment.

“You have received a letter from the Master,” she said unexpectedly one morning, after fastening your pants and tucking your blouse inside them. “It's strange, though, because it doesn't feel like a letter. Not enough… substance. Shall I open it for you?”

“No! No, that's alright.” You took the long, pale envelope from her once she revealed it to you, realizing that she was right. There was nothing to it. Light as a feather, but completely sealed on the back with his personal emblem hastily stamped, or more appropriately, smeared, with red wax dribbling away from center towards the bottom of the envelope as if sudden jerkiness had unsteadied his focused pour.

You flipped the thing front to back several times, testing the way the opposite ends fluttered from nothingness within, and glanced aside to your maid.

She looked to be just as thrown.

“You're sure this is from him?” you asked, bemused. “Who delivered this?”

“Why, a courier on horseback, of course!” she said with conviction, so you knew she wasn't lying to you at that moment. It wasn't her habit to weave tales to get a rise out of her employers, anyway. “I even spoke to the courier for a while because I made a comment about it being so light. He wasn't sure about it, either, but the description of the man who hired him matched the Master almost exactly.”

You had found a letter opener on the desk nearby and made a quick cut under the wax to break the seal without ripping the envelope itself.

“Almost? What does that mean here?” you raised the intact flap with the messy seal attached, freeing all of the residual tracks of wax from the paper so that they fell to the hardwood below like pebbles shaken out of a shoe after a stroll through the yard. “The man was either my husband or he wasn't.”

The maid tried to subdue her intrigue of the envelope, turned, and moved onto bunching up the soiled sheet you'd spread out on the floor last night. “Please don't misunderstand. It was him. But, the courier described him as ‘a very interesting and friendly fellow to converse with’.”

“What?”

You were responding to two things simultaneously right then: what your maid had just told you, and the fact that the only content inside the envelope was a single shred of paper torn from an unlined journal.

The maid fluttered back over to your side as you plucked out the slither of paper, letting the envelope fall freely from your hand to the floor. Leaning into your proximity, she read aloud the same three words that your eyes skimmed:

“Father Marius DuMonde.”

Just as you had done before with the envelope, you flipped the scrap back and forth as though trying to magically flip something into existence. Your husband's handwriting was recognizable in the lettering, but it was impatient; scrawled across a page in one journal in his vast collection like he hurriedly walked past, and then ripped it out.

Nothing else was revealed to you in the seconds after, nor in your long, contemplative stare.

“Who is that?” you asked the maid to alleviate a fast yawning gap of uneasiness beginning to make you fidget and fluster. “A priest?”

The maid beamed in awe of your fast deductive skills and nodded eagerly. “It would seem that way! The city has more places of worship than it does homes for the hungry and sick. Although, I suppose a church offers some of those services.” However, the lightness sank out of her face when you didn't reciprocate that enthusiasm whatsoever. “You’re unhappy? What's wrong?”

“My husband is a scholar. A rigid man of science,” you said, bending over to pick up the discarded envelope to closer examine the disastrous wax seal. “He denounces faith in all forms. Why did he write a priest's name to me?”

That maddening thought followed you for days afterward, sufficiently distracting you from all the regular vices you'd come to rely on to fill the void of your husband's absence. Fulfill the needs he'd never tried to meet even while he was around.

You spent your days brooding in the window seats in whichever room was warmest, molding against their domed shape while leaning a cheek flush to frigid glass, eyes bloodshot and watering against the sun’s searing neon reflecting off of a lawn of undiluted, glittering white.

Seldomly, a finch or small vermin would come into your view—hopping or lunging through the snow, making tracks, digging holes, disturbing your beautiful wonderland and almost arousing you into unreasonable outbursts which then inevitably became the servants responsibility to contend with, should any be nearby to provoke you.

It was the early evening during one of your normal watches, just after dinner and a glass of red wine, when a great clamor carried swiftly to you from the foyer of the main entrance. The servants’ voices were a feverish amalgam of nonsensical babbling, high-pitched, and accommodating in a way that made you think of groveling dogs with flattened ears, wagging and tucked tails, bellies upturned to their masters.

“Come! Come quickly!” called your maid from the sitting room door, her shrill, excitable voice a violent jostling in your head, scrambling your thoughts and anger with it. “Master has returned! He's asking for you.”

You delayed the reunion, waiting several minutes after she had gone before standing. You realized that the anticipation you felt swelling in your chest, rising like growth—a malignant tumor into your throat, thickening your tongue and fouling your taste and smell, was because you were uneasy, haunted by the cryptic message he had presumably sent you weeks ago.

A while later, you entered the foyer to see most of the staff had already dispersed and the ones left behind were your husband’s most loyal. There among them, speaking so unremarkably, so casually in a way you'd never witnessed, was your husband. His good spirits and animated gestures as he handed off all his things to many hands were an odd sight, staggeringly unlike his typical dour.

So, the rumor was true. There was something discomforting in that.

Whatever topic he'd been engaged in fell wayside once he took sight of you: standing, waiting, subtly shifting your weight, picking your overgrown cuticles to remedy how nervous you truly felt in that moment. You'd always been a little uncertain of how to deal with him as he was hardly affable, but this—

“Oh my… there you are, my sweet!” his voice was exactly the same, but his way of speaking was too jarring, almost lilting. Unnatural. No one else seemed to notice. “I was worried you may have been cross with me for being away for so long. As it turned out, uncle had far more beneath the surface to find than I once thought. But, all is well! The old man has been laid to rest forever. The estate is in the right hands. I've come back to you.”

Could this man really be your husband?

He came to you in brisk strides with a certain clumsiness to the way he moved, somewhat off. You thought about seasoned drunkards who could walk along a path, but never on a straight line without gently swaying on and off of it. Mostly in control, but never so well to appear normal.

But, you didn't detect that stiff, hot, fermented reek of alcohol on his breath nor any subtle odor sticking to his clothes as he gripped you tight in an embrace. The only one he'd ever given you. Where you should have been over the moon in joy at his profound change in heart, the little sweetness was like an anchor—arms of a sinewy willow pinning you to an even stronger trunk.

“God, you're breathtaking.” He even sounded winded as he spoke, lifting your face up with both hands to see his dark, dark gleaming eyes. You startled from his cold touch, fingertips pinpricks of pure frost and ice as they pushed into your skin, but you felt trying to reach much deeper than that. “Come with me, my love. Let me show you just how much I've missed you.”

As if fantasy had become real, he fucked you relentlessly that night next to the fireplace, consuming you so completely that every orgasm made your insides churn in agony.

He laved at you with his entire mouth, tongue and teeth hardest at work while his hands bruised and fondled you, fingers thrusting up into your tight hole oozing his saliva and your arousal. It was shameful to think that it took this sort of handling from another person to get you off, squeal like a sow.

He fucked you however he could, wherever he could. Rutting you from behind and against furniture, pressing your bare chest flush to frosted over window panes to make your nipples erect and ache from the cold biting them. Then, you were settled on his lap in front of a mirror hanging adjacent across the bedroom, his thighs spreading you wide open before your own reflection where you watched his cock plunge deep, filling you to the base of his shaft, balls slapping your sticky skin.

“Touch yourself, darling.” His throat rumbled, turning over stones and shards of glass, overall sounding very husky. There was something of wheeze that trailed the end of his every word, like he’d been patched for a long time. “Touch yourself. Watch yourself while you do it. Fuck yourself like the whore you are.”

Although the things he said were horribly uncouth, unbefitting of a man of his status and who you'd known him to be, there was great allure in hearing him, obeying his wants. You'd only had one glass of wine that evening, but your head and body warmed and buzzed like you'd had several.

His voice was a raspy whisper in your ears, seeping deep into your mind; spreading; fitting the grooves of your brain like the slow sprawl of sap through the gaps in bark. You were hardly yourself those minutes, those hours onward where you witnessed your reflection stroking throbbing parts, moaning, weeping, cumming until it hurt, and then doing it all over again.

The person in the mirror seemed to be someone completely different, whether simply disassociation from yourself or some hallucination evoked by exhaustion and ecstacy. Your husband had faded into the background, his voice creating sounds and noises, holding the cadence of language while seeming entirely unprobable, unknowable to you.

You couldn't understand him, yet you could, and the things he said were vile and disgusting and moralless. He told you of every way he'd like to fuck you, watch you be fucked; but, mostly, he wanted you to fuck yourself with the bulbous bedposts, the metal phallus held under lashing flames to be inserted next to his own cock.

He suggested orgies where the servants could take turns with you. He had almost convinced you to call for your maid so he could watch you suck on her breasts and lick her clit, while he rammed you from the back. He suggested drugs and whores, robbing the mortuaries, and worse and worse and worse and worse…

The next morning, you were stiff and immobile, bedridden unless two servants came into your room to help you squat on the commode. Your abdomen was tender and your genitals were untouchable, forcing you to lie in bed without undergarments to alleviate the raw chafing that could happen with fabric.

“I'm sorry, my darling. I—I lost control of myself. I got carried away,” your husband confessed later on, his sallow complexion keeping a weird, waxy sheen to it. A mask that fits, but not quite perfectly. Some of his former somber nature had returned to him as he sat on the edge of your bed, caressing the side of your face. He was still ridiculously cold. “Forgive me. I never meant to hurt you. I didn't realize just how desperate I was to see you again until you were in my arms. And then—and then, it was like it was all a dream.”

You thought the very same. You could believe he forgot himself in an uncharacteristic blaze of lust, as men were never taught to be any other way, and most men couldn't fathom the level of restraint he’d had until last night.

Everything else, you'd wanted to believe, was simply imagined after drinking more than you once thought and getting inside your own head full of sinful indulgences.

Still, one thing bothered you: Father Marius DuMonde.

“I need you to go to the city and find him. And show him this paper. Explain to him everything that you know, you hear?” You'd handed your maid the old envelope and scrap of paper, and handed her a generous bag of coins from your own safe. She looked at you, everything else, in bewilderment. “Don't ask questions. If you're able, bring him back here. Beg him if you must. If it's all nothing, he will simply be an honored guest we feed well, house, and send off gracefully the next day. Should it be something…”

“Are you afraid of him? The Master?” asked the maid, perhaps out of faithfulness to him. Perhaps out of devotion to you the most. “What do you think happened at his uncle's estate?”

It would all be speculation and unjustified gossip without proof, of which you had none. So, you told her that you couldn't be sure of anything right now. “Wait until sundown. Take the old pony in the stables, the one that usually lags behind all the rest. Be silent. Be careful.”

The maid did as you asked and left right before the final light was extinguished by indigo nightfall. You were able to move to one of the windows, seating yourself gingerly, watching her lead the sluggish old pony into cover of tree tops and then nothing else.

But, five days later, the maid hadn't returned from her mission, nor had you received any correspondence from her, nor the priest that she was supposed to retrieve.

A week after that, it was revealed to you that neither she or the old pony had made it out of the woods. The details of the old pony were so gruesome you couldn't bear to remember them. But, the maid was found nearly decapitated, head twisted around to face backwards, her pale skin hideously purple and black and swelled where it had been stretched like a strap of wrung leather. It was mentioned she had been disemboweled as well, but you promptly burst into tears and ran from the room before the visiting coroner could finish speaking, leaving him to discuss the rest with just your husband.

That night, you lay next to your husband in bed. The deep silence of night filled your ears with static and crunching cotton, whereas a hum resonated inside your head, your chest, seeping into your bones like a cold blanket of rainfall. The black air took on weird shapes: imagined appendages curling, reaching across the ceiling towards the bed, towards you. Your eyes couldn't focus enough to ward them off, nor the depth of dark your husband's silhouette had at your side.

He was faced the other way, his clothes back to you, completely unmoving. You ventured closer to listen for the thin breathing of sleep, the automatic rise and fall of his body, and yet he could've been mistaken as one of the dead. As dead and gnarled as your maid.

“Who are you?” you asked him. Asked the swirling nothingness in the room. “Where is my husband?”

“You've nothing to worry about, my sweet,” he said readily, so clearly anticipating to have your voice ring out at some point in the night. “He is here with me. Such a selfish, unlovable man. I am the one worthy of this vessel and you. Not he.”

Then, he rolled on top of you and kissed you deeply. Your bedclothes were shucked from your bodies and he pushed your thighs apart to seat himself inside of you. He took you with greedy thrusts, face fitted against the arch of your neck where his breath left a moist film across your skin, but the rest of him was freezing.

Your whimpers of pains were dwarfed by his hot moans into your flesh, teeth suddenly sharper and sinking deep when he bit into your neck. You were trapped staring at the ceiling, wrapped in agony and pleasure, feeling his body under your fingertips beginning to distort and change into something far more monstrous.

a/n; the upcoming story is meant to be my take on the whole possession subgenre in horror. if you're interested in reading it, I suggest you stick around my blog bc I do intend to start working on the actual story here in the next month or so!!

also, father marius dumonde is the same priest from my vampire priest x reader fic—of flesh sin. so, father shaw will be making a reappearance in it.

[ranvwoop]

Obligatory Statement. I have been aware of current happenings! This is for sure! I can just sort of wish that Shbble can be somewhat at peace in all of this

consider this my public denouncement of That Guy

[ceesimz]

We're All We Need Today

Hey, long time no story! I'm back with this, something I had the idea for a long time ago but it was low on my list of favourites. Then I re-jigged it and re-worked it and now it's done! Everybody's favourite trope, or mine at least, angst to fluff!

It should have been just a normal Tuesday. A normal evening on a random day mid-week in May. Training for you both that ended just after lunchtime, before meeting up at Alexia's apartment early evening after the pair of you attended meetings or completed other pieces of work. That all went smoothly, it was perfectly fine.

Alexia shouldn't have looked at your phone without your permission though. She shouldn't have looked at your messages in the first place, nevermind doing it behind your back.

"I cannot believe you told your friends and did not tell me first!" Alexia shouted at you as soon as you walked out of the bathroom, your phone opened onto your friend groupchat in her hand.

"What? Alexia, what are you doing? Are you looking through my phone?" You cried out, marching over to snatch it back, but she holds it in the air out of your reach like a high school bully. "What the hell do you think you're doing!?"

"You told your friends without conferring with me first. You went behind my back and you know I didn't want anyone knowing!"

"You've gone behind my back too, looking through my phone! Why did you do that?" You jumped and grabbed your phone, confirming exactly what you thought.

She had gone through your phone whilst you were out the room, had clicked onto a chat with your closest friends who you trusted more than almost everyone in your life, and she had read just one message that said 'What does your weekend look like in sunny Barcelona? Any plans with A?'

"No, no. You aren't flipping this around. You swore to me-" She jabbed her finger harshly against your chest as she spoke. "-that you would not tell anyone until I said you could."

Is she for real right now? Who are you even talking to?

This is not the woman you fell in love with almost seven months ago. This is not the woman who used her captaincy as an excuse to get your number. This is not the woman who asked to be your girlfriend in such a shy and awkward manner as she stumbled over her words whilst eating dinner with you on her sofa. This definitely isn't the woman who cares for you how no one else has, nor is this the woman who loves you infinitely and shows it in ways you never could have thought possible.

This is a selfish, egotistical, self-centred, and downright cold-hearted person you do not recognise. The version of Alexia in front of you here is one you thought you'd never, ever encounter. Yet, look at the situation now.

"So, what, I have to run everything by you? I can't tell my closest friends possibly the biggest detail in my life? I can't tell them I'm in love and happier than ever?"

"No. Not now. We promised we wouldn't tell anyone, and you have betrayed me." Alexia huffed angrily, her hands on her hips as she turned away from you.

"I wanted to share this part of my li- you, with them! And, Ale, you've told Alba and Eli, why can't I tell my friends?" You moved to stand in front of her so you're facing her again, and she fixed you a disapproving glare with a jut to her jaw.

"Friends are different to family - I've never met these people! What are their intentions? I don't know, and I don't want them knowing private facts about me. That is why I'm mad." Alexia gritted her teeth as she spoke, fury swimming through her veins as her hands gripped her own hips so tightly you were sure there'd be bruises the next time she looked.

"What are you even saying? Do you hear yourself right now?" You scoffed, your anger almost tripling when the woman in front of you chuckled.

"Trust me, I hear myself. I also hear you denying everything, denying the fact you've outed our relationship, denying the fact you've broke my trust. Betrayed the one thing I asked you to promise not to do. Maybe you're the one who needs their ears checking, remember when I said 'let's wait some time to tell people.' Maybe you misheard me and thought I said 'how about we tell every fucking person in the city?' So yes, I hear myself. Very clearly, you don't have to worry about that."

You stared, glared, at her for a few moments, gobsmacked at the turn of events whilst also trying not to burst into tears. This is a situation you never thought would occur between you both, and the vile way she spoke to you paired with her foul accusations had you slipping on your shoes and leaving her apartment. And, possibly the worst part of it all? She didn't even try to stop you.

Why was it always about her, about what she wants, always on her terms?

What about your opinion? She didn't care to hear you out, and it sounds like she doesn't give two flying fucks what you've got to say. Alexia Putellas and her dense head coming into play again, only caring about herself and her legacy and what people say about her. You'd think that as someone who, to the public, seems so very secure and content in her position as the best women's player still in the game, that she wouldn't be so worrisome and out-right vile if there was a chance something wasn't going her way.

No, she wasn't like that with you at least, not at all. You hadn't been together long, but the secrecy and, what you inferred now as shame, seeped into your mind and with each step as you walked home that day, you grew more and more, not only utterly infuriated, but overwhelmingly perturbed at the prospect of just... everything.

Perhaps your whole relationship had merely been a fluke. Something Alexia didn't take serious in the slightest, and nowhere near serious enough for you to tell people about it. Maybe, at the end of the day, you were too much for her to deal with, and the only way the Catalan could cope was by keeping you behind closed doors. The theories your mind was coming up made you sick to the pit of your stomach, and it was a miracle that you made it to the bathroom of your apartment by the time you were emptying the contents of your body.

There was some kind of higher power watching over you, because this whole fiasco had occurred when there were two days off afterwards. It was coming up to the tail end of the season, and as the latter half of the month was jam-packed with tense games, you had planned to make the most of the time off. With a few social events scattered across the two days, you had been greatly looking forward to spending time with your teammates outside of the pitch, your friends, and at the time most importantly, Alexia. That all didn't seem enticing anymore, nor did it even seem possible.

For the time being though, as you stumbled your way out of the bathroom and fell into bed, the breakfast catch-ups and evening dinners were the last things on your mind. The only way you wanted to spend your time off, was wallowing in a trench of self-pity.

And that's how you found yourself in the gym of your apartment complex some fourty hours later.

Jab, jab, hook. Jab, jab, hook. Right hook, then a left uppercut, and another right hook to follow.

Punch after punch after punch after punch. There was no stopping you in this mindset. Not with the things your head was chanting, Alexia's words circling endlessly around your mind. They were what fuelled you right now, allowing you to lay into the punching bag before you with no second thought to the consequences.

And those consequences were sure to bring you a lot of pain later, in your hands that weren't wrapped up like they should, nevermind wearing gloves.

There was music playing through the earphones you had in, but for the life of you, you couldn't even register it right now. Your vision was blurred by pure rage, failing to recognise the cuts forming with every unrestrained punch and the bruises beginning to form along the bumps of each knuckle. You had tunnel vision on one thing and one thing only, and that was trying to dispel yourself of the all-consuming anger that had plagued you for almost two days now.

"Amiga! Basta, basta, hey." A soft voice broke through your trance as your earphones were delicately tugged from your ears. "Hey, you hear me?"

As your hands were gently taken ahold of by the figure to your right, you took a deep breath and leaned forward to rest your forehead against the bag. It was now that the woman beside you realised just how poor your breathing was, and she brought one of her hands to rub caringly up and down your back.

"Más despacio, relájate. Tómatelo con calma, vale? Relájate." Her voice soothed you a little, giving you the peace of mind you needed to set your breathing back to normal. "Are you with me?"

At that, you nod and take some more breaths before leaning up and taking in the person beside you. It was Mariona, who you shared the same apartment complex with, a fact you had forgotten about. In this moment, you weren't sure if you were thankful for that fact or if you resented it.

"Yes, with you." You wiped your face on the sleeve of your shirt before properly looking at her.

"Are you okay?" Mariona knew it probably wasn't the wisest thing to say, but for the moment as she collected her thoughts and did an internal assessment of the situation, it was more of a buffer than anything.

"Um, I guess there's no point lying, is there." You state flatly, the Spaniard smiling sadly at you and shaking her head. "Things aren't great... right now, so."

"Okay. That's okay." Mariona's smile was perhaps the brightest thing you'd seen, and with her looking at you the way she was, with so much care and a major lack of judgement, it was hard to reject the help she was soon to offer.

"Will you let me take care of you? I have a first aid kit in my apartment that I can use for these." She gestured down to your bruised and battered hands that were growing more painful by the second. "We can talk if you want, or you can at least let me patch you up and I can call somebody else. It's up to you."

You thought you knew what you wanted, and it wasn't this, but now that the offer is glaringly right in your face, your inner monologue urged you to fall to your knees and beg for assistance, for someone to scoop up all the negativity in your mind and lift the weight of it from your shoulders.

Isolating yourself from everyone, as you had done in the last days, wasn't healthy in the slightest, and rationally you knew the excuses you gave for doing so were completely unwarranted. Yes, you were the newest signing, and yes, Alexia was the captain and the glue of the team. However, that did not lessen your worth, you still deserved your spot on the team and you deserved to be treated with humanity. As Mariona had shown in the span of a few moments, your teammates wouldn't pick sides depending on how long you had and hadn't known people, and they certainly wouldn't treat you any less just because you had fallen out with - foregoing her team title - your girlfriend.

You were only human after all.

"I would appreciate that, thank you, Mariona."

Once more, the forward smiled politely at you and nodded, moving to wait at the door to the gym to wait for you as you collected up your things. Each movement of your hands had you grimacing in discomfort, a fact not lost on Mariona as she took the items, like your water bottle and your jumper, from you just to take the edge off a little.

You weren't too close with Mariona, you had gravitated towards the likes of Ingrid and Fridolina and Aitana when you joined (and Alexia, of course), but at the end of the day she was still your teammate and you often found yourself in a group with her in training since you were also a forward. The 28 year old was a hard-worker, yet she was also one of the most laid-back people you'd ever met, so in her presence it was hard not to allow yourself to relax even just a tiny bit. The aura that radiated off of her was oddly settling, and as you both made your way up to her apartment in relative silence, you were offered your first slice of serenity since that day not too long ago.

"Would you like a shower first? You look like you worked yourself hard in there." Mariona offered as she closed the door of her apartment behind you.

"No, it's okay, thanks." You gave her an awkward, tight-lipped smile, feeling somewhat embarrassed at having been caught in such a vulnerable moment - a moment when you were filled with such rage and negativity, that all you could do was lay into a harmless object like a woman possessed.

"Alright. Sit down at the counter, I will get all I need and be with you in a second."

With a sheepish nod, you complied and sat at the island counter in the kitchen, taking a moment to compose yourself before you knew an emotionally charged conversation was about to take place. You were tempted to take Mariona up on her offer to call somebody else, but honestly you were already exhausted and just wanted to get this whole situation off of your chest.

You'd been lugging it around for days now, encumbered by the weight of anger that, as time went on, was bleeding into exasperation and disconcertion because, in all honesty, you just wanted your girlfriend back. That was a little difficult though, because the woman in question was still being as cold as ever and for the life of you, you couldn't get a good read on her to figure out what her stand was on it all now. Whether she'd confided in Mapi or Irene or her sister or even Mariona, you had no idea, you just hoped there was still an ounce of her that cared for you in just a sliver of the way you did for her.

Though you hadn't seen or heard from her since that evening, her actions and her words were still fresh on your mind, and no matter how much time you spent mentally going through each doing of hers, it all made zero sense. In no way shape or form had Alexia portrayed such viciousness towards you, nor had she ever been so horrible and completely unfair in the time you had known her. Maybe it was a case of only knowing her for a short-ish amount of time, but her behaviour seemed so out of character that it set a feeling of uneasiness in your chest.

Hopefully, bumping into Mariona, someone who had been good friends with Alexia for a long time, would give you some insight into why the Barcelona captain had acted in such ways.

"Here we go. I'm sorry if I hurt you, but it is unfortunately a necessary evil in this case." Mariona purses her lips forgivingly as she pulls out two alcohol wipes that already have you wincing at the thought. "Are you ready?"

"Yep, just get it done with. Please."

You hold your breath as she rips open one of the packets, then you watch on as she takes hold of your left hand first and lightly runs it over and in between each knuckle. It hurts a hell of a lot, sure it does, but with the tenderness that the Spaniard treats you with, all you can focus on is trying not to burst into tears at the kindness you're faced with. Your mind has been anything but towards you, and the last proper human interaction you had that had been longer than a few brief minutes was your intense argument with Alexia. So this moment here was overwhelming, in many more ways than one.

"That's one done, your right hand looks a bit worse. Am I okay to carry on?"

Honestly, why couldn't you have fallen for someone like Mariona, instead of the ignorant, hot-headed woman you were in love with?

"Yeah, it's fine."

The silence between you both is weirdly not unsettling or awkward at all, instead it's relatively comforting and for the first time in days, your skin isn't crawling at the fact you're left alone with nothing but the sound of your endless cycle of thoughts.

The Spaniard standing beside you was correct, your right hand was indeed slightly worse off than your left, and that was only made more clear with each brush of the wipe, clearing away the blood only to show cuts in the divots of your knuckles and bruises covering the entirety of the right end of your hand.

"You have a good punch on you, ever thought about boxing instead of football?" Mariona joked, trying to uplift the heavy atmosphere in the room.

"No, wouldn't want to mess up this face." You replied, the forward laughing quietly and nodding.

"You are right, and football is much more easy to watch."

You supplied her with an agreeing smile, trying to hide your discomfort as she moved your hands around to assess the damage and make a plan of action.

"Okay, I think I will apply some antiseptic cream for your cuts and wrap them up with bandages. Then I will give you an ice pack for each hand, does that sound alright?"

"That's perfect, Mariona, thank you." You smile gratefully at her, and thought it's not a genuine smile, you hope she understands the appreciation you hold for her.

"It is not a problem. We look after each other at Barça, sabes? Anything you need, please do not be afraid of reaching out. To any of us."

And there is her segue into striking up the conversation you'd both danced around since she saw you.

You had to give it to her, she let a few moments pass by so it could come across as a bit less obvious, but nevertheless it happened just as you had expected.

"Are you comfortable talking to me about what happened in the gym?" She took note of the hesitation you greeted that question with, so she put the tube of cream down and faced you fully. "That was a bit concerning to walk in on, and I wouldn't be at peace with myself if I let you out of here without checking in on you."

"I... I guess, yeah." You sighed.

"Thank you. How would you like to start?" Mariona wondered with her ever-present smile, pairing it with a nonchalant shrug, further evidence of her care-free nature that continued to draw you in. "You can start talking about what is on your mind, or I can ask some leading questions to help. I am fine with anything, I just want you to leave here feeling a bit better."

Mariona had asked you a few moments ago if you had ever thought about boxing. Now, you wanted to ask her if she'd ever considered being a psychologist.

"I think it would help if you asked some questions, maybe." You decided, and she nodded instantly. She grabbed the tube of cream again and started applying it at the same time she uttered her first query.

"Do you normally practice on the bag without gloves on?" It was a very light one to start off with, perhaps something to be grateful for, but despite feeling a little calmer now, your mind was still in turmoil and wasn't fully recovered yet.

"No, I always wrap them up. I didn't even plan on using the bag today, it just... I was on the treadmill and then I saw it and wanted to use it. I wasn't really thinking straight, so. Yeah. This is the result of that." You took a sharp breath as the forward smoothed over a particularly bad cut with the antiseptic.

"Mhm. And, forgive me for this one, was it your intention to hurt yourself?"

That one took your breath a little.

"No, no, not at all. It wasn't even a thought in my head, I swear, I only wanted to get my anger out." You responded hastily, trying to convince her that you were relatively okay and that this was just a blip, and you didn't need some kind of intervention.

"Okay, thank you for being honest. I'm very glad to hear that, and I'll take your word for it." After finishing with your current hand, she squeezes it comfortingly and moves onto your other one. "Are you willing to tell me what's wrong? Why you needed to get some anger out?"

"Yeah... yeah, I am. I have to give you some context though, and I'd be really grateful if you kept it between us."

Mariona wasn't a gossip by any sorts, but as a result of the months of Alexia's words drilling into you of how nobody can know about you both, it was still an anxiety you had. Yet, the woman looking after you in such a heart-warming way was quite possibly the good samaritan you needed right now, her acts of kindness a reminder to not lose all hope with the world around you. You were well within your right to freak out in the way you had - not only were you in an entirely new city, learning a language you hadn't paid any mind to since school, but rather naively you had probably depended on Alexia more than you should have.

It was a lesson to be learnt, a mistake you wouldn't make again, though in the future even if you didn't recognise it yet, you'd look back on your time so far and wouldn't even regret it that much. After all, every moment of the past ten months had led you to the love of your life, and nothing was ever completely perfect. You would take a few bumps in the road if it meant you could end the season with a few medals around your neck and the greatest woman you'd ever met on your arm. Sure, you might not think the greatest of her right now, but you would mend it. You were sure you would. Hopefully.

"Of course, I won't tell a soul. You can tell me anything and no one will ever hear a word of it." Mariona reasurred you and though you hadn't really doubted her in the first place, you were still beyond grateful to hear that.

"So, um... Alexia and I have been in a relationship for a few months."

Yet again, Mariona continued to surprise you with how marvelous she was. Or maybe it was just an after effect of how much Alexia's words had got to you, because when the islander simply raised her eyebrows for a millisecond before nodding as you revealed your news, you're shocked at how much of a low-key reaction she gave. Whether she had an incredible poker-face or she just didn't care half as much as Alexia thought people would, your body sagged in relief at that minute response. As far as human beings go, this one right here wasn't too bad at all.

"And, for reasons I still don't understand, she was adamant that we keep it a secret. Like it was some kind of war tactic we had to keep safe. She made it out to be a make or break situation for us. But she told Eli and Alba less than a week after we made it all official, which I didn't think much of. I talked to her about it back then, wondering if it was just something she wanted to keep quiet while we were only in the dating stage, but she told me I still couldn't tell anyone. I guess because I was still relatively new here, with not many close friends and still with the mindset of trying to earn my place in the team, I agreed. Then as time went on I got a bit... annoyed with what Alexia wanted, but whenever I brought it up with her she would immediately shut the conversation down. I figured I could do it slyly, without telling her and without telling anyone any kind of intricate details of our relationship. So I took matters into my own hands."

You sighed and pinched the bridge of your nose at this point, knowing it was here in the story where things got quite rocky. Mariona had finished applying the antiseptic at this point and was now getting the bandages ready, prepped with the medi-tape beside her to secure her wrapping. With each new fact you unveiled, she nodded along in understanding, completely on the same page with you. She didn't understand the actions of her friend as of yet, wondering why on earth she'd be so intensely secretive about her relationship to the point of not telling a single soul, but those were thoughts she wouldn't voice yet.

Mariona herself was in a private relationship, and she was happier than ever in it. However, it wasn't a secret. Sure, she wasn't posting photos of herself and Lia all over her social media, but if you looked close enough the facts were clearly there. Plus, pretty much everyone in her personal life and Lia's knew about the pair of them, and nobody was fussed. So why Alexia was acting in this way, she didn't have a single idea.

"I told my closest, most trusted friends that I was in a relationship, and that the name of the person I was with began with 'A'. That was genuinely all I gave. I warned them not to nag me with guesses of who it was as that would break my own personal rules, because after all I didn't want to go behind Alexia's back more than I already had. Then... Alexia went through my phone. She saw that my friends were making plans in the group chat back home, and then they wondered if I had plans with 'A' over the weekend."

"She went through your phone?" Mariona questioned, in disbelief at the invasion of privacy you'd experienced.

"Yes, she did. The text flashed up on my lock screen while I went to the bathroom, and then she just went on my phone and looked through my messages. I don't know how in depth she went, but..." You shrugged, averting your gaze to your aching hands, ultimately defeated by now; by Alexia and her stubbornness, by your own mind, and lastly by the fact you had been so suddenly caught out by one of your teammates.

It was at this point that the numbness dispelled and gave way for shame, embarrassment, and a bit of anxiety. After all, you didn't know anyone from the team in depth, you were still just getting to know them, and the first thing you had done when you arrived was dive head first into a relationship with their captain. There was an endless possibility to the vast amount of opinions each person could hold for you and how they felt about your relationship (even though there was almost no way at all they could know about it), and as the silent seconds ticked by, it started eating away at you.

Though, somehow, in some magical, god-given miraculous way, Mariona saw right through you. And from now on, you were to make it your life mission to give back to this messiah in the form of an attacking footballer from the Balearic Islands of Spain.

"Hey." She tapped on the counter in front of you to get your attention, achieving that when you look up at her. "You don't have to... to get defensive with me. I can bet what you're thinking, and you don't have to worry about all those thoughts. I am neutral here, helping a friend. I will not go and tell Alexia or anyone about this, not if you don't want me to. And trust me, I am on your side. I have never heard of her acting like this, I am shocked and slightly outraged too."

That was undeniably relieving to hear, for a number of reasons. But for the most part, you were glad to hear that because for the past few days your mind had been trying its damn hardest to manipulate you into thinking this whole commotion was your fault, that you were the fault-line in the relationship that had caused this rickety earthquake.

No, that was no longer a worry, because here was possibly the human example of sunshine saying she shared your view and was just as displeased as you when it came to the Catalan's behaviour. Now, knowing you had at least one person on your side, this obstacle felt a little easier to climb over.

"I do have one thing I'm wondering." After a curious hum from you, she explained. "Is there anything you would like me to do in this situation? Like, bring it up with Ale? Because for both of your sakes, I want this to be solved in the easiest way possible."

Was it a good idea, judging off of Alexia's already toxic reaction to the point where she refused to hear you out? Most likely, but, not only did you think Mariona could teach her a thing or two when it came to human interactions, there was a small (actually fairly large) part of you that wanted to fight back against Alexia's unfairness by showing her you simply were not one to be trampled on.

There were two people in this relationship, and in this moment you realised that rank, longevity, and status in a football team were measly things to worry about.

"I think that would be a good way to start. Having someone knock some sense into her." You answered, quietly delighted when Mariona laughed momentarily at your words.

"I will try to do exactly that, for you. Promise." For the millionth time that evening, you found yourself completely under the influence of that goddamn smile.

"You're very good at communication. Unnervingly good." The hearty laugh you got in response forced the first genuine smile out of you all evening.

"Well, when you have a very emotionally intelligent girlfriend, you have to keep up."

"If you could give Alexia some lessons, I would appreciate that a lot."

"I will talk to her. Don't worry."

You left Mariona's apartment not too long after, both hands wrapped precariously and feeling significantly better than you did during that gym incident, finding solace in the fact there was now a fairly solid plan of action.

The only thing you could do now, was wait.

That was harder said than done, because for the rest of that day you didn't hear from Mariona at all. Nor did you hear from her before training the day after, and for the first time since you arrived, you were wracked with nerves as you walked into the building.

Not once during the whole session did Alexia glance towards you. Not once did she even acknowledge your existence. It drove you crazy, her acting as if you were invisible. As if she couldn't get anymore fucking immature. It took a lot of self control to not act like a petulant child towards her, desperate to piss her off in a quarter of the way she had to you, but you were better than that.

So when she rocked up outside your apartment later that day, with freshly dyed blonde hair that was styled in a frustratingly attractive way, a bouquet of chrysanthemums in one hand and a takeaway bag in the other, it took all of your strength to not slam the door in her stupidly hot face.

"What are you doing here?" You asked flatly, followed by a sigh that clearly indicated she was the last person on earth you wanted to see right now.

Well, with that haircut, maybe not the last person...

"I have a lot of explaining to do, I know that. And a lot of grovelling too. I was hoping you didn't hate me that badly to let me in." Alexia smiled sadly down at you, a slight shrug to her shoulders when she speaks.

Your mind goes back and forth for a few moments, briefly running through pros and cons of letting her in, before you decide fuck it, worst comes to worst you can show off your new boxing skills.

Eyebrows raised, you walk away from the door back towards your sofa, leaving her to wonder what to do for a moment. Ultimately, she decides to slowly follow after you once she'd softly closed the door. A quick glance around your apartment tells her you hadn't eaten yet, and she takes that as a small win before heading towards where you were seated.

"I brought your favourite takeout. Would you like to me dish it up?" She asks, a little disheartened when you shake your head.

"If you came here to talk, we're gonna talk." You state firmly, waiting expectantly for her to come sit with you.

She should have expected this really, knowing how royally she'd screwed it up with you and how disgusting she had acted. But hearing you speak so sternly was a bit unnerving, even if Alexia did recognise she more than deserved it.

A second later, she nods and places her items down on your dining table before making her way over to you. Rightfully so, she leaves some space between you both when she sits down, and you have to stifle a laugh as to not ruin your façade with how on edge she looks.

"Uh, so, me first, or..." Staying silent, you raised a daring eyebrow at her, thoroughly enjoying putting her through this slight torture. "Sí, okay, me first."

Anxiously, she wipes her clammy palms on her thighs. Then she cleared her throat, glancing at you periodically before taking a deep breath and starting her explanation.

"I am well, well aware of how bad I have acted towards you. I want to make that clear first. I acted like an idiot, to the worst degree. I was selfish, rude, I invaded your privacy, and I completely fucked it all up."

Hm, not too bad of a start.

"Congratulations, you took responsibility!" You responded sarcastically, fighting the urge to give her a round of applause too. Then you're fighting off a bubble of laughter at the nervous chuckle she gives before speaking again.

"I will regret my actions until the day I die. I promise you, I will never behave like that ever again. I've never been more ashamed of myself in my life, and knowing it's you who I acted like that towards makes it a hundred times worth. Because, you..." She shakes her head and waves her hands in the air like she's speechless. "You're you. You're the most selfless person I know. Your heart is something I do not deserve to have, because of how pure and kind and beautiful it is. You are so caring, and you love with every fibre of your being. Not only that, but you're so open, and I really admire that, because that is something I'm not. I'm... I'm ashamed to admit that even now I'm still anxious, and being secretive is how I've lived all my life. I want to be more open and care-free, I really do, it's just... hard for me."

With each word, each compliment, and each reason she gives, your hardened exterior towards her is slowly getting chipped away. You're not a grudge holder, it's not in your nature. And no matter how much you tried to fight it, it was inexplicably hard to not get wrapped up in her.

"Mariona... Mariona said you didn't even tell your friends it was me you were with. She said you only told them my name began with A, and that was it."

Alexia trusted Mariona of course, that was something that naturally occurred having known her for so long, but she wanted to get confirmation from you.

"I did. They don't know it's you I'm with." You told her, and if it was somehow possible, Alexia's heart shattered just that bit more.

"Well, I'm sorry, amor. I'm sorry for jumping to conclusions, it was really stupid and unfair of me. I really appreciate that you didn't break my trust, like I thought you had. I... that just shows how little I valued you. And I swear, that's something you'll never have to doubt again. I value you more than anyone in my life. I have a reason for why I was... more than reluctant to tell people about us. But I don't know if you want to hear it. I don't want you to think it's some flimsy excuse."

"Well, I mean, you may as well say it now." You scoffed, watching as she gulped nervously before nodding.

"My last relationship... with Jenni. That's why I'm so worried about telling people. Because even now, years after we ended our relationship that I would never ever want to go back to, people still talk about us, comment on our posts, make edits of us, and freak out about every little fucking interaction between us. It drives me crazy, even now, when I know I should not let it get under my skin, but it does and I can't stop it."

She shrugs dismissively as she talks, eyes cast down on her hands as she fidgets with the rings on her fingers. It's clearly a topic for her that's hard to discuss, and you want to reach out and take hold of one of her hands, but you don't want to distract her.

"When I was with Jenni, I was nowhere near as 'famous' as I am now. Now, I get the most vile and intrusive articles written about me, there are always cameras on me, paparazzi trying to figure out where I am at all times, and it really worries me because I don't want to involve you in that. If the media started writing things about you that were even just half as nasty as the things they've said about me, I would never be able to live with myself. It would eat me up, amor, I don't want you to go through that."

Okay, out of all the overthinking you've done in the last three days, your mind had not mustered up this point of view. This was undeniably sweet, a stark contrast to the way she'd treated you during the argument. You'd been with Alexia long enough to be more than familiar with how she acted on her anxieties in rather unhealthy ways for herself with harmful consequences for those around her as a result. Most likely, you realised, her recent behaviour was a demonstration of that very fact.

"And though those reasons shouldn't excuse my behaviour, because I should never have acted like that, I hope it gives you a tiny bit of insight into my head and allows you to recognise my actions came from a place of love, not malice. I showed it in completely the wrong way, but I swear to you from this moment on I will treat you better than I ever have, if you let me live up to that promise."

A shaky breath leaves the woman beside you, signifying the end of her ramble. And, to be honest, you'd forgiven her long before she finished speaking.

"Thank you for opening up to me. I forgive you, I do, but I won't forget how you treated me. If you ever show even a hint of that behaviour ever again, I'm out, Alexia, you must know that." You give her a clear warning, despite the fact your heart is crying out for you to just jump right back into her arms.

"I do know, I absolutely do know that." She seems to make the leap for you, as she shuffles along the sofa and gently takes ahold of both your hands. Your wounded hands. "Amor, what... what happened?"

Her voice is filled with concern, immediately overcome with nausea as a result of the worry she feels at the sight. However, that's nothing compared to the guilt she feels when you tell her what happened.

"Oh, um... an unfortunate run in with a punching bag not too long after our argument." You reveal sheepishly.

Alexia's heart drops. It drops from her chest, to the ground, through the core of the earth, and all the way down to China.

"This... this is because of me?" She whispers the question like she's terrified to utter the words. She's even more terrified of the answer.

"I guess. Yeah. I had to get my anger out some way, and I'm sure you're glad it wasn't your face." You try to joke, but it lands flatter than a pancake.

"Amor, I..." She can't find the right words within her to even attempt to apologise.

The great thing about mental health, was that 99% of the time you couldn't see it. That meant Alexia couldn't see the psychological damage she had caused you with her words.

But this, this was concrete evidence of just how much her treatment had affected you. She had done so much damage to your self-esteem, that you had no choice but to lash out to the point of injury. That, she feared, she would never get over.

"I guess Mariona failed to mention this part to you." Another pitiful attempt to lift the mood.

"She took care of you?" Alexia asked tentatively, the tiniest bit relieved when you nod.

In a split second, her arms were wound tightly around you as she tugged you into her lap. A rush of Catalan spilled from her, of which you gathered were words of apologies and sweet nothings to convey her intense regret. You didn't catch a word, not too familiar with the language despite playing for the pride of Catalunya, but you got the gist quite quickly and it didn't take you a moment longer before your arms were wrapped around her neck.

You were flooded with relief now that you were back in her hold, the embrace finally silencing the relentless voice in your head that had been going non-stop for days now. There were tears dripping onto your neck though, something that has you furrowing your brow and urging her to lift her head up.

"Ale, what's this for?" You asked, delicately wiping some of the tears that were overflowing.

"I just... I fucked it up so bad. So bad. Dios mío, you've ended up hurting yourself because of it. I'm just so sorry. I'm so so sorry."

Alexia falls apart then, breaking out into sobs that, though it's a rather a harsh thing to admit (not that you ever would, verbally) really exemplify her guilt and regret, and tie off her apology. You hate seeing her cry, hate seeing her so ruined, but all you can do now is hug her just as tight back and hope your words provide her some comfort.

"I forgive you, Ale, I do. My hands aren't your fault, it's a result of me not being sensible when letting my anger out. It's not your fault, mi corazón, not your fault at all."

You carry on spewing words of comfort for her until her cries finally subside a few minutes later. How she rubs at her eyes is something you find adorable, the way she does so reminding you of a young child. Your own hands follow her calloused ones, treating her with the same care she had complimented you on not so long ago. It warms her heart to no end, and it offers her a little reassurance of the fact you don't hate her guts.

"It's my fault a little bit." She mumbles, and there's a speckle of humour in it that you're not hesitant to jump on.

"Maybe a tiny bit." You whisper scandalously, smiling at the tearful laugh she lets out. "But I don't resent you for it. If I did, we wouldn't be in this position right now, okay?"

"Whatever you say, amor." Alexia nods, a semi-genuine smile on her face as she leans forward to rest her forehead on your shoulder.

"There's one thing I need from you for us to move past this." You state seriously a few quiet moments after.

She lifts her head up and nods vigorously, prepared to do just about anything you asked for if it meant she could love you for the rest of her life.

"I want to be able to tell people that are important to us. My family, my friends. Your family and friends. Our teammates. I'm not asking for us to go public on social media, I'm not asking for anything like that. I just want us to be more open. I want to be able to walk around Barcelona with you, like we did together when we started out dating. Because those moments with you, where you showed me your favourite restaurants and cafes and places special to you, they're some of my favourite memories with you. I just long for us to have a normal relationship, not one kept in the safety of our apartments behind closed doors. Because it's embarrassing and... and soul destroying being treated like I'm invisible. Just... treat me like a human fucking being in training, please? In public?"

It felt rather humiliating to be begging for such normal things, but that was the exact word you would use to describe this whole thing for you. Humiliating. To be treated like you had by, arguably, the sole person who shouldn't treat you like that, was something you never wished to experience again. Because, if you did? Well, there was simply no coming back.

But, you supposed, being in love was all about taking chances on people and relationships couldn't be built without a steady foundation of trust. That's all you could do now; trust in Alexia to nurture your heart like a delicate blossom where she cherishes every petal with gentle devotion.

"I will. Mi amor, I will do that and more. I will do anything you want me to, I promise that I will change my bad habits so that you never have to suffer at my hands again. I will love you like it's the last thing I'll do. You could never be invisible to me, you never were. From the first time I saw you, in your two-sizes-too-big Barça jumper on your first day, you've been everything but invisible to me."

Finally, the nail in the coffin to this whole ridiculous thing. And man, were you glad to see the back of it.

"As long as you don't embarrass me by one-upping me with your flawless free-kicks."

Despite the push to the shoulder you give her, you giggle and pull her back in for another hug. You'd been deprived of her embrace for far too long, and you planned to make up for it.

"I can't make any promises, unfortunately." You teased, grinning into the skin of her neck as her hands splayed out over your back, rubbing up and down comfortingly.

"I think I will take that." Alexia murmured, hugging you just that bit tighter before she leaned back. She moved her hands from your back to softly cradling your face, her eyes jumping from each feature to feature, trying to commit her favourite art piece in the world to her memory. Then, she met your gaze, and the sincerity and earnest present there was breathtaking. "We'll be okay?"

It was asked in such a vulnerable tone, you couldn't help but smile down at her.

"We'll be okay, Ale."

Going into training the next day, there was a spring in your step. Alexia had stayed over at yours the previous night, near enough refusing to leave. That meant she was wearing the same trousers as the day before along with one of your sweaters that, to your amusement, was evidently slightly too small for her as the cuffs ended just shy of her wrists. Call it your revenge perhaps, but as you both arrived at training together, chatting freely with content smiles on your face, it felt like a new leaf had been turned.

Alexia had made many mistakes with you, that she knew. She also knew she had no more chances, so she was going to try her absolute hardest to never act like such a fool again, even if it killed her. However, the shy smile on your face when she bounded up to you after Jona demanded the team to get into pairs for 1-on-1 practice, was enough proof for her to realise that it wouldn't be such a shame to go out of this world as a result of your love.

She almost came to regret that though when you handed her ass to her on a plate with each of your attempts to get past her. Because, quite frankly, you did embarrass her. Crossing her sides and body-checking her and out-skilling her each time was satisfying to no end, and it was exactly what you needed really. At one point, there was an ounce of worry that perhaps Alexia would be annoyed, but that dissipated immediately when she would laugh and slap her own forehead each time she was outshone.

That tiny speck of worry was completely forgotten about when, after the last attempt of the day, Alexia ran up behind you and lifted you up off the ground with her arms around your torso. Her mouth found its way to your ear as she took a few steps whilst carrying you, squeezing you tightly once.

"Never embarrass me like that again." She murmured jokingly, fighting back a grin as you laughed unabashedly in her hold. Afterwards, she put you down and moved to walk closely beside you, heading back to the main building as Jona called the end of training.

"You're the one that partnered up with me, Ale." You nudged her in the side with your elbow, gazing up at her with an adoring look that had Alexia's heart jumping in her chest.

"Maybe, but I only have one thing to say."

"What's that?" You hummed.

"Thank god for Mariona." She murmured, smiling as you giggled and nodded.

That smile was wiped off her face when an arm flung around her shoulders not a second later.

"Thank god for who?"

"I don't need your bragging right now, Mario, you're ruining a nice moment."

"I made this nice moment happen, Ale, you better thank me properly soon."

With that, the islander left just as quickly as she had arrived. When Alexia noticed the teasing grin on your face at the interaction, she shoved at your shoulder with a grumble under her breath.

"She really got through to you, then?"

"Oh, yeah, she beat my ass."

[moonselune]

Could I request a Tav that has a gorgeous sibling, that has stolen at least one of Tav's lovers in the past, and tries to put the moves on one of the boys when they get back to the city?

ooohooohoooooooooo I love this

Gale:

The library at Candlekeep was a sanctuary of knowledge and tranquility. Gale was engrossed in a tome, his mind deep in the arcane intricacies of a spell when he heard the soft padding of footsteps approaching. He looked up to see your sister, a vision of beauty with her hair cascading in waves and eyes that sparkled with mischief.

"Gale," she purred, stepping closer. "I've always admired your intellect and… other qualities."

Gale arched an eyebrow, sensing the underlying tone of her words. He had heard about her previous antics and was prepared to be anything but tolerable. "Is there something you need?" he asked, keeping his tone polite but distant.

She moved closer, her fingers brushing against his arm. "I was hoping we could get to know each other better," she murmured, leaning in as if to kiss him.

Gale stepped back, his expression one of clear distaste. "You must be joking," he said, a hint of laughter in his voice. "The very idea that I would be interested in you rather than dear Y/N is frankly laughable."

Her eyes flashed with surprise and embarrassment. "But… why?" she stammered.

Gale's gaze softened slightly, but his resolve remained firm. "Because I love them," he stated simply. "And nothing you could offer would ever tempt me away from them."

With that, he turned back to his book, chuckling to himself, leaving your sister standing there, her cheeks burning with humiliation. You walked in, a brow cocked at your sister, wondering why she looked distressed and it didn't take you long to piece together why.

Smugly, you strode over to Gale, placing your chin on his shoulder and wrapping your arms around him, kissing his neck. Gale flustered but reciprocated and your sister quickly left to leave you to your private moment.

"I love you," You told him between kisses.

"I love you more." Gale smiled and held you closer. Your sister long forgotten.

Halsin:

Halsin was tending to his herbs and potions in the corner of the camp, his hands moving deftly as he worked. Your brother approached, a feigned look of distress on his face.

"Halsin, I feel so unwell," he said, clutching his stomach dramatically. "Could you please help me?"

Halsin glanced up, his keen eyes immediately recognizing the act. "Of course," he replied, though his tone carried a hint of skepticism. Especially as this was only one of your brother's latest acts. "What seems to be the problem?"

Your brother stumbled forward, leaning heavily on Halsin. "I just need some… intimate attention," he said, his voice dripping with insinuation.

Halsin's brow furrowed in confusion and then realization. He gently but firmly pushed your brother away, his expression one of clear rejection. "I'm afraid you're mistaken if you think I would fall for such a ruse," he said, his voice calm but stern.

"But Halsin, surely you could make an exception," your brother pressed, trying to regain his footing. "I know nature calls to you just as it calls to me, primally."

"It does," Halsin shook his head, his eyes unwavering. "But my heart belongs to your sibling. They are the one I care for deeply, and I will not be swayed by your attempts," he said firmly. "Now, if you are truly unwell, I will help you. But if not, I suggest you leave."

Your brother's face turned red with embarrassment, and he quickly retreated, his plan thwarted. As he walked away you approached Halsin, no words needed to be exchanged and you relaxed in his embrace, knowing that his heart was yours, and yours was his.

Wyll:

Wyll was in the middle of practicing his swordplay near the camp when your sister approached, her eyes gleaming with mischief and intent. She had a reputation for causing trouble, and Wyll had heard the stories, but he always gave people the benefit of the doubt.

"Oh, Wyll," she exclaimed suddenly, her voice filled with a dramatic tone. "I feel so faint!" She staggered forward, pretending to swoon, and Wyll, ever the gentleman, instinctively moved to catch her.

"Are you alright?" he asked, concern evident in his voice.

She batted her eyelashes at him and clung to his arm, her face inching closer to his. "Oh, Wyll, you’re so strong and handsome. How could I ever resist you?" She leaned in for a kiss.

Wyll's eyes widened in realization, and he immediately pulled back, letting her drop unceremoniously to the ground. "What are you doing?" he asked, a mixture of confusion and disgust in his voice.

Your sister looked up at him, shocked and embarrassed. "I thought—"

Wyll shook his head, laughing at the absurdity of the situation. "You thought I would choose you over my love? The very idea is laughable. My heart belongs to them, and nothing you do can change that."

With that, he turned and walked away, leaving her sitting in the dirt, her face red with humiliation.

Astarion:

Astarion was sharpening his daggers by the fire, his eyes reflecting the flames, when your sibling approached, their steps deliberate and their eyes predatory. Astarion glanced up, sensing their presence, but he kept his focus on his task.

"Hello, Astarion," they purred, their voice dripping with false sweetness. "I hear you're quite the expert in, shall we say, matters of blood?" They extended their arm, a small cut visible on their wrist. "Care to help me clean up?"

Astarion's eyes narrowed, his nostrils flaring slightly. He could smell the desperation and deceit. He leaned closer, his expression turning from mild interest to utter revulsion. "Your blood stinks," he said bluntly, pushing their arm away.

They recoiled, shocked and offended. "What did you just say?"

Astarion stood up, his gaze cold and piercing. "I said, your blood stinks. And more importantly, you disgust me. Do you really think I would prefer you over my beloved? The very idea is laughable."

He turned away, leaving them standing there, their face flushed with shame and anger, the sting of his words lingering in the air. "Oh darling you would never guess what just happened-"

Rolan:

Rolan was busy studying his spellbook, completely immersed in his magical studies, when your sister approached, her intentions clear to everyone but him. They sat down next to him, leaning in far closer than necessary.

"Rolan," she whispered, their breath brushing against his ear. "I've always admired your intellect. Maybe you could teach me a few things… in private?"

Rolan looked up from his book, blinking in confusion. "Huh? Oh, sure, I can teach you some spells if you want," he said absentmindedly, turning back to his book.

They placed a hand on his thigh, leaning even closer. "I was thinking of something more… personal."

It took a moment for the implications to register, but when they did, Rolan's eyes widened, and he burst into laughter. He laughed so hard that tears streamed down his face, his laughter echoing through sorcerous sundries.

"You… you really think I'd be interested in you?" he gasped between laughs. "That's hilarious! Oh gods, that's rich. You should be a comedian at the Elfsong!"

Your sister's face turned bright red with humiliation and anger. "But—"

Rolan wiped the tears from his eyes, still chuckling. "Oh, please. The very idea that I would choose you over Y/N is laughable. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have some actual important things to do."

He turned back to his book, leaving them fuming and embarrassed, her plan thoroughly thwarted. He was still laughing to himself when he returned to the tower and you looked up in him at confusion yet he wouldn't tell you what happened, just suggested that you should skip your trip to your sister's next month:

Raphael:

The elegant and opulent atmosphere of the Hells always had an air of temptation and danger. Raphael lounged in his luxurious chamber, a goblet of fine wine in his hand, when your brother approached with a sly smile.

"Raphael, I've heard so much about your… unique talents," he said, his voice smooth and seductive. "Perhaps we could make a special deal, just between us."

Raphael's eyes flickered with amusement and disdain. "Oh? And what could you possibly offer that would interest me?" he asked, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

Your brother moved closer, his intentions clear. "Anything you desire," he whispered, leaning in.

Raphael laughed, a sound both melodious and menacing. He pushed your brother away with a flick of his wrist, sending him sprawling. "You really think I would choose you over your sibling?" he scoffed. "The idea is utterly laughable."

Your brother's face flushed with anger and humiliation. "But I thought—"

"You thought wrong," Raphael interrupted, his tone icy. "My interest lies solely with them. You are nothing but a poor imitation."

With that, Raphael dismissed your brother with a wave of his hand, turning his attention back to his wine, his loyalty to you unshakable.

Hope y'all enjoy this - Seluney xoxo

[kanmom51]

Are you sure?! Sapporo - Episode 8

I know.

I know it's been a bit and a half.

I know it's taken me time to come here and talk about the last episode.

I've been digesting, totally in the feels, and trying to recover.

The photobook, JM's little piece of information regarding his whereabouts night before Jeju and the pic. OMG, that JK marked by JM pic. The more you think about it the crazier it gets. That they actually did that and that the photo made it's way into the book (not to mention us knowing that JM has that pic he took of JK on his phone). All quite a distraction from me working through my thoughts about the episode. A welcomed distraction, but a distraction none the less.

This last episode we got of their Sapporo trip was an emotional rollercoaster. Not only for JK and JM. The level of Joy on the one hand. Seeing them so very happy. And them allowing us to see even more of them and their happiness. Like JM said:

Thinking again about what he said here... and then going back to this:

Yeah, I know he was talking about their Sapporo trip, but you know that this isn't the first time we saw JM wanting to claim his territory.

I know I don't have to point out where JM was pointing where he was going to be writing "Jimin", right?

So, this too is something JM does at home? Just a thought, lol.

And then those two just had to kill me. I know they were both pensive and sad it was all coming to an end, but JM crying, that just devastated me (because It's JM, and JM struggles so with showing himself so vulnerable).

So yes, it has taken me a second to get my wits together and come back and talk a bit with you about what we had in Episode 8.

When I finished watching the episode for the first time I couldn't help but think:

It's the end of the world as we know it...

Well, not really, because we knew it pretty well, but for those that didn't (or wouldn't see it, or denied it, or lived in a delusion that it wasn't happening) it sure is changed.

And then we get JM and JK just crushing down all those TKK rickety houses of cards (see what I did there?) with the photobook. Absolutely priceless!!

Are you sure?! Episode 8

Filled with romance and sentiment and so much feels. Couplie feels.

This episode, is the one, out of all those it followed, to cement for us, the spectators (all spectators, not only Jikookers), that these two are... drumroll... a REAL LIFE long term ever so loving couple.

No huge ear sucking, hickey showing or sunscreen claiming moments. And yet, this episode differs so much from the ones that came before because the whole aura of it was so heavy in "if it looks like a duck and quack like a duck then it's a fucking couple you idiots, just open your eyes".

This is JM and JK just being themselves albeit Sapporo Jikook are innately different due to timing and place - Japan and last trip before enlistment made this so much MORE for the two of them, and we most definitley saw just how much so at the end of this episode.

But this is also the editors doing, with the company's ok, of course, allowing us to see so much MORE. I do believe, that just like with the hickey finding it's way into memories 2020, this episode, the editing of it, was a conscious decision of both Jikook and the company. Jikook being themselves and allowing us to see more of it. More of them. I can assure you there is much we did not get to see, just like there was much we did not see from the previous trips and episodes, but we were allowed to see MORE in episode 8.

And again, it's not about seeing sus moments, because we definitely got a few of those in this episode. We had some in previous episodes as well.

It's about the MOOD.

it's about the editing allowing for more private moments (emotionally private, couplie private, not necessarily what people love to see or think would be the most suspicious ones, the more obvious ones with sexual innuendos), moments that I am sure happened in the other two destinations as well but were edited out.

But there were still things we weren't allowed to see.

Like when a crying JM goes to wake up JK in the morning.

Too personal. Too emotional. Too private.

Beyond the MORE, it was just TOO MUCH.

And yet we did get Jikook just being themselves and us getting to see it. Jikook just BEING. And it was beautiful. It was emotional. It was intimate. It was so very special.

We got to see them react to the first episode of the show. And although this most definitely wouldn't be the first time we got to see them sit down and watch and react to BTS content, that was always within the context of BTS content and with the other members. I can think of one time we got to see them watching their own interactions during the Black Swan shoot.

But even that had them sitting apart and the whole group present.

This was intimate. Just the two with only a red pillow between them (which I am 100% they put there to remind themselves of where, when and what they are doing). JK holding on to that pillow, to prevent hands from straying? I guess it kept them at bay... at times...

So yes. We see JK and JM (oh boy JM) definitely in the feels. And the different editing. Allowing us to see and feel their intimacy.

And with all that, the whole intimate aura surrounding that whole episode we got some cute and some more obvious moments (those moments you can point your finger at and say "there you go", unlike a feeling you get from just watching the two BEING).

We got so so much in this episode.

We got their usual playful flirting.

One example of many:

I mean, really???

The facial expression while saying it, and the mostly lack of reaction from JM as well. No flinching, no "you shouldn't say stuff like that", nope... just this:

This, to me, is not stressing about JK saying this to him but more about it being said for us to hear.

And I'm sorry, but whichever way you look at it, this is not the reaction you would get from a bro who was just told by his bro to strip.

We got more flirting in the car, at the convenience store, at the accommodations, in the hot tub as well. I will get to it all, don't worry, lol.

We got the touchy.

We also have the full combo of flirty playful and touchy:

We got JM telling us 3 times he was taking and took a boyfriend pic.

We got them calling each other pet names.

We got JM talking about his butt and JK's familiarity with it...

We got JK showing off his BF privileges.

We got JK trying to uplift JM's mood.

We got JK telling us all these trips with JM have been the best of his life,

and:

We got JK totally lost, gazing all stary eyed at JM.

Fuck, that was so beautiful!!

I want to go back a second to the clip I shared - what the absolute perfect ending to an absolutely wonderful show. And that little surprise at the end.

Even watching it again now I'm balling my eyes out.

JM rubbing his shaved head... I can't...

😭😭

The one thing that gives me strength is knowing that they are there TOGETHER!!!

[theladyofbloodshed]

Mama Nesta Part Two

Thanks to brain rot, I've done a fluffy part two of Mama Nesta

The darkness enveloped them as they winnowed to the mortal manor once more. Now that Cassian knew what he’d expect there, it didn’t make the anticipation any easier. They had visited once since, to meet with the mortal queens. Although it had been a complete disaster, it had not lasted long either. They had refused to share their portion of the book so when it was done, they had not lingered – although it pained Feyre to leave her sisters again.

They hurried across the grass to escape the rain which lashed at the windows. So much for the arrival of spring to the mortal lands, he thought, as his boots squelched through the mud.

The mortal queens would arrive in the morning at eleven, but Rhys had wanted them to be there earlier to secure the home and scout the area. The thought of doing that in this weather made Cassian shudder. He’d had a lifetime of miserable conditions in Illyria, but it didn’t mean they ever became easier to endure.

Elain welcomed them with the same nervous hesitation as the previous two times, but her sister was nowhere to be seen. They heard her though or, rather, they heard Oliver crying in another room.

‘He’s been grizzling for most of the day,’ Elain explained. ‘Dinner has been prepared. Shall we?’

Feyre wolfed hers down then slunk away from the table in search of Nesta, who hadn’t dined with them. In their last visit, she had brought clothes and gifts for the baby, so Cassian did not doubt that she’d done the same this time. From the happy glow upon Rhys’ face, he wouldn’t care if Feyre spent every coin he owned. Their mating bond was fresh and new, the haze of love powerful.

They were shown to the same rooms as they had previously stayed in as though Elain couldn’t wait to escape their presence without her sisters flanking her for support. Rhysand joined them in theirs, sitting at the bottom of Cassian’s bed while they went over the plan again. They weren’t sure how many queens would grace them with their presence – or if they’d receive the book. They were desperate for it.

When Feyre arrived with tea, she gently set it down then pressed a finger to her lips. ‘There’s a leak in the roof so Nesta is sleeping in the room next to this one,’ she said, gesturing to the wall that Cassian leant against. ‘She thinks Oliver is cutting a tooth. Both are asleep, so be quiet in here.’

The familiar click of Rhys’ shield sounded as it slid into place.

‘She should be in Velaris,’ said Rhys. ‘Not only is it safer, she would have you to help too.’

Feyre grimaced. ‘I’m not sure she wants my help – or anybody’s. She’s too proud to accept help even though she looks like a ghost. I doubt she’s had a solid night’s sleep since he was born.’

Discussing Nesta Archeron was one of Cassian’s favourite things, but there was usually more subtlety about it. Whenever Feyre mentioned her previous life, Cassian would harvest the snippets of information about her eldest sister carefully to examine in private. It was his hobby to piece each part of the puzzle together and discover who Nesta Archeron was. It felt wrong to be discussing her openly when she slept in the room next door. He knew instinctively that she’d hate it.

Although Oliver had cried on and off through the night, Cassian didn’t dare go to her as he had the first time in this home. From the lightness of Azriel’s breathing, his brother wasn’t sleeping. The last thing he needed was Azriel finding out that Cassian was utterly obsessed with the eldest Archeron – then they’d all find out and he’d blame his shadows.

A golden light was carried by the dawn and with its arrival came Mor; she was Rhys’ secret weapon against the queens. Having known their ancestors, they hoped she might appeal to the queens’ reason. Cassian highly doubted it. But, as an extra precaution, Mor carried the Veritas Orb in an onyx box. They would show the queens Velaris.

In the moment prior to the queens’ arrival, Nesta joined them. The babe was hidden away in another room, likely full of milk and fast asleep, timed for this very minute.

Only two queens decided to attend their meeting. They did not miss the love overflowing between Feyre and Rhys. Feyre held the queens’ stares as she and Rhys both sat in their chairs, with Mor sliding into one beside him. ‘I do not think that it was mere coincidence that the Cauldron let us find each other on the eve of war returning between our two peoples,’ said Feyre.

‘The Cauldron? And two peoples?’ The golden queen toyed with a ruby ring on her finger. ‘Our people do not invoke a Cauldron; our people do not have magic. The way I see it, there is your people — and ours. You are little better than those Children of the Blessed.’ She lifted a groomed brow. ’What does happen to them when they cross the wall?’ She angled her head at Rhys then him and Azriel. ‘Are they prey? Or are they used and discarded, and left to grow old and infirm while you remain young forever? Such a pity … so unfair that you, Cursebreaker, received what all those fools no doubt begged for. Immortality, eternal youth … What would Lord Rhysand have done if you had aged while he did not?’

‘Is there a point to your questions, other than to hear yourself talk?’ drawled Rhys.

Despite Feyre’s protests, Rhys beckoned for Mor to offer them a glimpse of Velaris. But it was not the queens that Cassian looked to. Nesta’s eyes were glued to the green roofs and sprawling townhouses. There was something on her face that he couldn’t entirely place – resignation or longing? As the orb flashed through Velaris, past its ships in the port and the gleaming Sidra, the tightness eased from Nesta’s face.

Back and forth, the pairs argued. Rhys with his clever words and the queens with their stubbornness. They wouldn’t give up the book. The distrust between their kinds was too deep.  

But then the ancient one said, ‘Who is to say that this is not all some grand manipulation?’

‘What? Mor blurted.

The golden queen nodded her agreement and dared say to Mor, ‘A great many things have changed since the War. Since your so-called friendships with our ancestors. Perhaps you are not who you say you are. Perhaps the High Lord has crept into our minds to make us believe you are the Morrigan.’

Rhys was silent. They all were, until Nesta said too softly, ‘This is the talk of mad women. Of arrogant, stupid fools.’

Elain grabbed for Nesta’s hand to silence her, but Nesta stalked forward a step, face white with rage. ‘Give them the Book.’

The queens blinked, stiffening.

‘Give them the Book.’

And the eldest queen hissed, ‘No.’

But Nesta went on, flinging out an arm to encompass them, the room, the world, ‘There are innocent people here. In these lands. If you will not risk your necks against the forces that threaten us, then grant those people a fighting chance. Give my sister the Book.’

The crone sighed sharply through her nose. ‘An evacuation may be possible-’

‘You would need ten thousand ships,’ Nesta said, her voice breaking. ‘You would need an armada. I have calculated the numbers. And if you are readying for war, you will not send your ships to us. We are stranded here. There isn’t time.’

The crone gripped the polished arms of her chair as she leaned forward a bit. ‘Then I suggest asking one of your winged males to carry you across the sea, girl.’

Nesta’s throat bobbed. ‘Please.’ The word clanged through Cassian like a mourning bell. It was the final plea of desperation to save her son. ‘Please— do not leave us to face this alone.’

Cassian couldn’t take it. She was a young mother who should have been filled with joy at the prospect of their future, not preparing for war. Cassian crossed to Nesta. He studied Nesta for a long moment. She was still glaring at the queens, her eyes lined with tears — tears of rage and despair, from that fire that burned her so violently from within. When she finally noticed Cassian, she looked up at him. There was fire there, yes, but also grief and pain for what was to come.

His voice was rough as he said, ‘Five hundred years ago, I fought on battlefields not far from this house. I fought beside human and faerie alike, bled beside them. I will stand on that battlefield again, Nesta Archeron, to protect this house—your people. I can think of no better way to end my existence than to defend those who need it most.’

A tear slide down Nesta’s cheek.

He gathered his courage to wipe it away. He never wanted to see her face broken by sadness again.

***

As though her son was in tune with their precarious situation, Oliver waited until the queens winnowed away to give a gurgle from the other room. He was beginning to learn how to smile although his teething was trying to ruin that. A gummy smile was offered to Nesta as she scooped him from his bassinette. She knew Feyre would want to see him and that thought made her heart swell; there was another in this world that loved her son.

‘The book,’ murmured Feyre. ‘She left it for us.’

Within a lead box, Rhysand touched a book. There was a thin envelope on top. ‘We shouldn’t linger.’

The others stood, following his command instantly. Cassian’s gaze grazed her neck, but Nesta couldn’t look at him. She’d felt it often as the queens spoke with her sister and her faerie mate. Felt the ghost of the fingertip that had traced her cheek. Nesta had vowed never to let a man touch her again, but that touch lingered there.

‘It is your choice, ladies, whether you wish to remain here, or come with us. You have heard the situation at hand. You have done the math about an evacuation.’ A nod of approval from the high lord as he met Nesta’s stare. ‘Should you choose to remain, a unit of my soldiers will be here within the hour to guard this place. Should you wish to come live with us in that city we just showed them, I’d suggest packing now.’

Elain thumbed the iron ring on her finger. She would stay. She would stay and risk the consequences because love had blinded her.

Elain swallowed, a doe caught in a snare. ‘I—I can’t. I …’

Rhysand nodded with understanding. ‘The sentries will be here, and remain unseen and unfelt. They will look after themselves. Should you change your mind, one will be waiting in this room every day at noon and at midnight for you to speak. My home is your home. Its doors are always open to you.’

Oliver stared about the room. Nesta was unsure how much he could truly see, but his eyes landed on Cassian’s sprawling wings. The male looked to her then her son in pleading.

Nesta cleared her throat. ‘Promise me that my son will be safe. Promise me, Rhysand, that no harm will ever come to him in your court.’

Her heart thumped.

She couldn’t look at her sister, couldn’t take the betrayal in Elain’s eyes that she was choosing her son. Choosing herself.

Rhysand stepped closer and extended a hand for her. It was warm and firm as it clasped her fingers. ‘I vow to you, Nesta Archeron, your son will be protected. He will be safe.’

A stinging feeling crawled upon her hand. Black ink spread across her hand where he touched it, similar to the marking on her own sister’s arm.

‘Tomorrow,’ Nesta whispered. ‘We will leave tomorrow.’

Without a further word, the Night Court disappeared from sight.

Her heart would break if she lingered in that room, if she even offered one glimpse to Elain. Elain was following her heart – and so was Nesta. Oliver had been brought into this world by her. It was her duty to find the safest path for him, and if that was with fairies then that was the path they had to walk.

She cradled Oliver’s head as she hurried up the stairs to the attic.  

‘You can’t leave me,’ sobbed Elain. ‘If war is coming then we must be together.’

Her face was red from crying and she frequently touched her engagement ring to remind herself of her decision to remain with Graysen.

Although there was little to pack, it had been interrupted frequently by an unsettled baby who constantly wanted to be in Nesta’s arms. The rain had started again. It hammered upon the roof while thunder rumbled in the distance.

‘You are choosing what’s best for you, Elain. I am choosing what is best for Oliver.’

‘Faeries?’

‘Yes, faeries. If that means that he will not be caught here in a war then I will endure every faerie north of the wall for as long as I live.’

Elain gave a wail, sounding more like a spoilt child than ever before. ‘You will leave me here alone.’

It would be easy to argue with her. Too easy. Instead Nesta let herself breathe in and out a handful of times to calm her frayed nerves. It wasn’t a decision she made easily. Had she not shared the glimpse of Velaris, her decision would have been to remain in the mortal lands – her lands. ‘Do not try to make me feel guilty for the choice I am making for my son. You are choosing your heart as am I.’

‘After everything we’ve been through-’

‘Yes,’ Nesta said, not hiding the snap from her voice this time. ‘You cannot expect me to be your shield forever. You and Father have made it explicitly clear that being an unwed mother is an embarrassment. Consider the removal of my son and myself from your life a favour.’

Oliver gave another grizzle that was a prelude to another night of little sleep.

‘If you will kindly remove yourself, I must pack.’

***

‘How exactly do you plan to carry a mortal woman, her child, and all of their belongings to Velaris?’

Cassian bit the inside of his cheek. ‘Maybe she wouldn’t like winnowing.’

‘And flying is the better alternative? For hours and hours across every court with a baby in tow?’

Rhys eyed him, but said nothing more. There was enough weight in his stare to have Cassian shifting on his feet.

Feyre offered him a pitying smile. ‘We appreciate you offering to help. Me and Azriel will be just fine.’

‘Why does Az need to go?’

‘Azriel can winnow. Azriel can fight if needed. He can protect my mate – and her family – if anything happens.’

‘I can do all of those things except winnow,’ he protested.

‘Why are you so desperate to go?’

Cassian had spent most of the night helping Feyre to prepare the bedroom for her sister. He was on hand to move furniture and offer compliments on her colour scheme in the hope of collecting a little more information about Nesta. Feyre and Rhys had likely debated where was safest for a mortal mother and her baby; they had decided upon the town house. It gave Nesta access to the garden as well as Velaris’ shops. Cassian, with his own selfish thinking, knew the opportunity to speak to Nesta in private was less likely to happen in the town house. He should have been glad for it. Apart from being Feyre’s sister, Nesta Archeron and her son had no bearing on his life. In fifty or sixty years time, she would be only a ghost.

There was absolutely no reason to grow attached.

He felt his face heating. ‘I’m not desperate,’ he lied.

‘Then there’s no issue with you remaining here, is there?’

Rhys departed the room, claiming he needed to speak with Amren regarding the Book of Breathings, leaving him alone with Feyre. Her stare bore into him.

‘Nesta might not admit it, but she would be glad to have a friend here,’ she said.

They were so similar – the eyes, the hair, the ears. Where Feyre was freer, Nesta was more guarded.

‘Tonight, I can imagine she will be overwhelmed. I don’t know if she’ll manage to persuade Elain to come,’ she continued. ‘If she wants to spend time in the bedroom rather than join us for dinner, let’s not push her on it. There will be other nights.’

Cassian felt himself frowning. ‘What does it have to do with me?’

Feyre’s head tipped back with soft laughter and she patted him on the arm. ‘Like I said, it would be nice for Nesta to have a friend.’

***

The city was beautiful. The orb had not done it justice. As the sun slid across the horizon to soak the roofs with its golden glow, Nesta knew she had made the right decision. It was the best choice for Oliver, but also for herself.

Faeries were bigger and stronger, natural predators whose den she was in. But there was ink upon her arm and a deal from the high lord seemed no small thing.

Her heart ached for Elain, but the space inside of it for her sister grew smaller and smaller each day.

The room provided for them was utterly beautiful. It was on the ground floor with double doors that extended out into the gorgeous garden. Pale blue walls had golden milling throughout and a large bed was draped with creamy furs. A new bassinette had been placed beside her bed for Oliver and a wardrobe was already well-stocked with light, summer clothing for him. Money wasn’t everything, but a life without it was hard.

Nesta had joined her sister and the others for dinner while Oliver slept, though she stayed quiet for most of it. There was a camaraderie amongst them. Their words were spoken with a teasing that Nesta had never known before. It was easy. But when Oliver began to cry, she was relieved to be away because she had been an outsider on the fringes of a group.

Adjusting to a new life would be difficult, but she had done it before. Oliver had given Nesta a future – and it was her responsibility to ensure a future was safe and happy for him.

She dabbed at her baby’s chin. He gave a grizzle and hung his head down, back towards the bed.

‘You can’t decide if you’re tired or hungry or happy,’ she murmured, tickling his back.

Each day he grew stronger, pushing his weight onto his arms when she lay him on his stomach. The ends of his hair were starting to curl about his ears. If she ran a finger along the bottom gum, she could feel the nub of his tooth ready to cut through.

Oliver gave a little shriek into the blanket as he pushed. Nesta helped him to roll onto his back then blew a raspberry against his neck.

Never did she imagine herself as a mother. The word repulsed her thanks to her own.

But it was easy.

It was so easy to love him.

No matter how tired, how exhausted, she loved him so much. The four months since he’d entered her life had been four of the best, even with the threat of war looming.

That night, he’d woken with such a cry, it had startled her from sleep. It took a moment or two to get her bearings – to realise that they were no longer in their manor in the mortal world, but instead in Prythian.

He was a hungry, little boy. Some days, Nesta felt no more than a cow whose only purpose was her breasts when he latched on hot and sweaty like a little lump of heat. Oliver had learnt that he had legs and hands so smacking her as he fed was a new activity. She dreaded all of his teeth coming through. The thought of him biting her nipple made her wince even now. It was more common for women of her mother’s status to hand over their babies to other women to raise, or even to feed. Although Nesta couldn’t conceive of robbing these moments from herself, a child with small teeth near such a delicate area did entice her somewhat.

Full of milk and full of energy, Oliver would likely not go back down to sleep until the sun was up. It was all great fun for him. One gummy smile had Nesta smiling back.

‘Mama is very thirsty now,’ she said, pulling on the new dressing gown that had also been left for her in the wardrobe.

Nesta was still figuring it out. These weren’t talks she’d ever had with her mother – nor would she have been able to. It had been the servants who’d offered advice to a desperate mother when her son wouldn’t settle or when he wouldn’t latch on in those first few hours of life. She hadn’t known how painful the delivery would be or how her body would feel so foreign in the weeks following it. Nesta had not known how thirsty she would be either.

It was her thirst that had the pair of them padding along the quiet corridor silhouetted by moonlight in search of the kitchen.

A light was already on and a pair of wings blocked the figure from view. The two Illyrians were similar with their dark hair and umber wings, but Azriel was more subdued, less prone to smiling. Cassian also had more bulk.

It was his dark head that was leaning over the stove, stirring a pan.

‘Let me guess, Oliver has decided now is a good time to wake up,’ he said, glancing over his shoulder at them.

‘I just needed water,’ replied Nesta. ‘I don’t want to intrude.’

Cassian made a scoffing noise as if Nesta was completely wrong then pulled out a chair for her at the small table, more suited for quiet meals rather than the large dining table they’d eaten at earlier.

‘Do you like tea?’

‘Yes.’

Cassian whisked the pan one more time then turned the heat off. ‘This is how we make tea in Illyria.’

Whether Nesta wanted to or not, Cassian gave her no choice. He was already pouring a steaming mug, which was rich with spices, for her then placed it out of reach of Oliver’s flailing arms.

‘He’s more energetic now,’ Cassian noted. He reached out a huge finger which Oliver clutched. Amongst his gurgles and giggles, he shook Cassian’s finger with vigour. ‘And how is the teething?’

‘The first one will be through soon,’ she said.

‘Can I hold him?’

A stroke of fear made her heart stutter. ‘Why?’

She caught the bob of his throat as his eyes flickered between Oliver and her. ‘I like babies.’

‘You. You are the general of a faerie army. You like small children.’

He gave her a sheepish nod then said, ‘I never knew my parents. I grew up alone. There are lots of children in Illyria like me.’ Cassian shrugged. ‘I have a soft spot for children.’

This was her home now. Nesta had chosen this place because it offered the safest path. These faeries were Feyre’s family. They loved her and wouldn’t see harm come to her sister. It had been Cassian who had stood at her side against the queens. Cassian who touched her face, the heat of his fingertip remaining there like a brand.

‘He’s quite fidgety,’ she said, standing to pass Oliver to Cassian.

She could have sworn that the male’s face lit up as he gathered the boy into his massive hands. Oliver gave him a thorough inspection then smacked a hand against Cassian’s jaw for good measure.

‘One day, we will go flying,’ Cassian told him, not caring as Oliver made a high-pitched squeak as he slapped him again.

‘Sorry.’

‘I probably deserve it.’ The deep rumble of his voice was comforting in the way a storm at night was. ‘Drink your tea in peace, Mama.’

It was an innocent comment. She was sure he meant it innocently. Then why was her heart stuttering with excitement?

Oliver was bounced on his knee, the mug clutched in his other hand. Both were content. There had been no trepidation on Cassian's part and Oliver had took to him like a duck to water.

Why was he awake at the same hour? From the inside-out clothing, they’d been hastily thrown on too.

Had he come to make the tea specifically for her?

No, that was silly. Nesta was getting carried away with herself.

Or, perhaps he had. She was Feyre’s sister after all and it was a kind thing to do. It was an innocent thing to do. A way to settle her into his city.

‘I could show you the city tomorrow.’

Her stomach tensed. ‘Well. Well, it depends. Oliver has been out of sorts with his teething.’

He nodded in understanding as though he’d accept anything she said. ‘Do you have a stroller for him?’ Before Nesta could explain that she had very little for her son, Cassian went on, ‘I can take you into the city. We can buy him a stroller so then you can push him around – some babies settle easier when being pushed. It will give your arms a rest too.’

‘I don’t know.’ Nesta worried her lower lip.  

Cassian reached across the table. His hand engulfed hers. She pushed down on the instinct to throw it off.

She dropped her voice to a whisper. ‘It is a city of faeries. I am mortal.’

His fingers tightened on hers. ‘Then it’s a good job that your friend is the general of the Night Court then.’  

[highhhfiveee]

mint

pairing: mike schmidt x blackfem!reader summary: you’re abby’s mint chocolate-loving babysitter. mike takes notice. wc: 1.3k tags: suggestiveness, swearing, fluff. *minor movie spoiler that isn’t a spoiler fr but kind of is* a/n: oi. this is my first official piece of fanfic on tumblr and i'm excited but also super nervous. i never knew what characters i wanted to write for as most of my fandoms are obsolete tbh (teen wolf and maze runner, i'm looking at you 💔) but after watching the fnaf movie and falling in love with j hutch like i'm 14 again, i wanted to try to write for mike!  i'm sorry if this story sucks tbh. i wrote it pretty quickly, did not edit it in any way (watch for grammar and spelling errors!) and i'm still trying to establish characters and plot and do all this silly billy worldbuilding, but i'll get better! i'm also taking requests for both fluff and smut, so if y'all would like to send anything for me to write, i'll def accept! like i said in my last post, i think i'm gonna redo my tumblr layout so i can feel like a true fanfic/misc blog lmao so ignore its under construction phase ((: i hope y'all enjoy this though bc i've been thinking ab mike schmidt all night 

i have sooo many ideas, but between last night and this morning, i’ve been thinking of abby’s babysitter!reader (bc fuck max). 

you’ve been channel surfing in the living room since you put abby down, working with her to lock down a nightly routine. ideally, she’d bathe, eat dinner (god willingly), brush her teeth, and then you’d be able to get her to lay in bed and doze off. some nights, this required dessert. 

“you just brushed your teeth though. it’s gonna taste gross.”

“not if it’s one of those mint chocolate things you always have.” you straighten up, eyes squinted at the child before you; she meant the small, sometimes melted, squares of Andes mint chocolate you always kept. they’d always been your favorite, a guilty pleasure in this fucked up world. 

you hadn’t been babysitting abby for long, and you didn’t realize that she'd been watching you crush the chocolates like it was light work. they were easy to eat, and once you had one, you found out how easy it was to eat another one, and then another one, and then another one until there was a mountain of crinkled foil next to your phone and chocolate smeared on your face. 

"please, y/n. just one," you didn't exactly know if it was a lie. abby was convincing, able to break you down with her eyes, pleading and puppy-dog like. "please." 

you cave, leaning down to brush her hair back from her forehead and place a gentle kiss on the skin. with pursed lips, you whisper, "fine, but tomorrow night. i have to get some more." 

abby does nothing but smile, eyes fluttering closed. you stay with her for a bit like you always do--watching the way her chest rises and falls, and how her features twitched with slumber. features scarily similar to mike's. 

of course she'd look like mike. they were siblings, no shit, but the resemblance occupied your brain. there was sweet abby, with her colorful clothes and scribbled drawings and persuasive aura, and then there was mike. 

you shake your head, giving abby another kiss before exiting her room. you didn't need to think about mike. he wasn't what you were here for. you'd come to abby's school as an aide and after she'd privately confided in you about her home life, you knew you had to help her. you would do anything for her, even if that meant taking care of her while suppressing the overwhelming school girl crush you had on her older brother.

mike was a bit older than you, which didn't scare you at all. guys in their early 20s were rarely mature, doing anything they could just to fuck; but guys in their late 20s, mike specifically, had only ever shown you couth, surprisingly. 

for nearly two months, five mornings a week, the sound of the door being unlocked would ring out. you'd turn to see sunshine pouring into the living room, enveloping mike's brooding figure in a radiant golden glow.

he'd hang his coat on the wall hooks, drop his bag down to his feet, and give you a small but warm smile. you'd try to not to embarrass yourself as you two made small talk, packing up your things.

you always left unscathed, but recently it'd been hard. you were always thinking about him, dreaming about him even; how his hair would feel between your fingers, how his hands would feel on your face, how his face would feel between your thighs. 

the thought is washed away, drowned out by the sound effects of a loud infomercial when the door opens, and you're turning and squinting against the wash of pale yellow on your face. mike steps forward with a, "hey, y/n" and you meekly raise your hand to wave. 

he hangs his hoodie up to reveal his shoulder blades flexing under an uncharacteristically tight navy blue sweater. you can't help but stare.

"just wake up?" his voice is raspy, but he's still facing the wall, rummaging in his bag for something. 

"um...yeah. brain's still turning on," you lie, tossing the thick blue blanket off your body. you didn't sleep at all, kept up with your thoughts and the last of your Andes mints (though you loved her, you couldn't give abby your last ones).

"hm," he mutters, finally turning to you but keeping his hands behind his back. something crinkles in them and you raise your eyebrow at the tired yet amused expression he takes with you. it's enough to make your body hot and you awkwardly pull at the collar of your shirt, fanning yourself off.

"hot?" the gravelly tone sends you into a giggling fit, shaking your head as you shoot to your feet. you have to leave before you do or say something you regret. 

"uh, yeah, it was s-super hot under that...um...blanket. i shouldn't have worn sweatpants to s-sleep," you stutter, nodding your head along with mike as he steps closer to you. this couldn't be the moment something happens, right? it'd been so casual between you too, very friendly, and he'd never shown any signs of trying to do anything with you before. why would he choose right now, so spontaneously? 

he stands before you, the slightest bit taller than you. you're able to see every pore, every freckle, every microscopic detail in his eyes and lips.

you open your mouth, hoping your heart doesn't fall out, to ask what's happening, when he reveals a bag of Andes mints, one bigger than you've ever seen.

your mouth stays open in surprise. "wh-"

"abby's been talking about them. i wondered where she found out about them but--" he nudges his head towards the coffee table, where a small mound of green wrappers lay. you swear under your breath, cursing yourself for not throwing them away like you usually do. 

"i'm sorry," you whisper, blushing beyond measure as you begin to frantically pack your things. "i should be more careful with that stuff."

"god, y/n, you're saying it like it's coke," mike chuckles. he sets the bag down on the couch and reaches out to you, placing his hand on yours as you shove things into your tote. "hey." 

his voice forces you to stop and look up. you melt under his stare just like you do with abby. the puppy-dog thing must run in the family.

"i feel bad about not being able to pay you yet, and i really appreciate all you're doing. abby told me that you loved those mints, so..."

"thank you, mike," you say over the sound of your pounding heart. you didn't care about the money, you didn't need it. being appreciated by someone who made your heartbeat resonate throughout your body was payment enough. "this is really sweet." 

"thank you, y/n. you don't know how much this means to me." You scoff, throwing your tote over your shoulder and looking down at your feet. 

"i'm always happy to help." you and mike stand facing each other for what feels like hours, the air as thick as molasses between you. his eyes were squinted, low and dark and intriguing.

you wished you could read his mind. what was he thinking? did his heart do the same thing as yours, wacking against his ribcage with no end in sight? did he stay up thinking about you when he was supposed to be sleeping, imagining how you felt, what you sounded like, how you tasted---

"see you later tonight?" his voice rocks you out of your trance. he's not thinking about you. he's tired, wondering when you'll leave so he can fall into his bed and doze off. 

"yeah. tell abby i said i'll see her tonight." your smile is tight as you exit the house, cursing at yourself as you get into your car. 

you didn't know how long you could go on like this. 

ya, i know this sucks and it isn't really anything but we're gonna work our way through these fics and blurbs to really develop a cute relationship (,: i will still be writing other fics for mike, and possibly using another babysitter!reader in a different universe, but as for now, we're gonna be rocking with these two (: (thinking that we’ll label her as 🌱🍫!reader)  all notes are appreciated (: thanks for reading!

[beforetimes]

have to preface this by saying i don't really care about jayvik and i probably won't be posting about them after this but i DO subscribe to the meljayvik agenda. but only in the context of a very specific dynamic i've invented for them in my head that i can not explain without giving an example, which is what i've come to lay out today.

let me set the scene: pre-act two, mel and viktor become. acquianted. mostly through ""closet-detours"" during very long and boring parties mostly about acquiring funding for their projects when hex-tech is still being built up. viktor is not totally sold on anyone on the council and mel doesn't really care to know viktor as a person but there is a serendipitous moment where mel looks at viktor and is like 'i can tell you don't want to be here' and viktor looks at mel and is like 'you are doing a great job of sounding as if you like these people but i can tell that you definitely don't want to be here right now.'

anyway, this is how they first get acquiainted. and its mostly stress-relief and no one is privy to it except for jayce, who doesn't explicitly get told but after spending so much time in viktor's vicinity and also around mel he can sort of put together the pieces in a way that no one else can. and after a few years of this very casual no strings attached fling going on, mel and viktor both kind of realize that they need more to get the same thrill they did at the very beginning of their little arrangement.

which is where jayce comes in, after all the pieces are set in place.

inviting you to imagine jayce to have the same disposition as this poster on twitter while all this is going on because its an essential part of his characterization in this scenario i've concocted: "Me [heard "PAWG" and got so hard i got nauseous]: i think i hauve Covid." this describes jayce's state of mind far more succintly than i could ever hope to.

now, in this scenario, mel pulls the same little show that she does in season one that eventually leads jayce to sleep with her. this is without the added backdrop of viktor's illness getting bad because it's pre-act two. but jayce knows that mel has something going on with viktor, even if he can't really put into words what it is along with the fact that neither of them have ever said anything about it out loud. so jayce, trying not to do his friend dirty, asks 'what about viktor?' to which mel replies 'he doesn't have to know.'

viktor knows. he is incredibly aware of this. mel also knows this.

anyway cut back to mel's room and they're in the middle of foreplay where jayce is so unravelled at this point that he can't tell if he's enjoying himself or halfway to a panic attack because wow mel is so beautiful and he's lowkey been fantasizing about her for years but also he feels so guilty because he knows that he's definitely betraying viktor's trust but also now he's started getting into this he thinks he'll die if he tries to walk out on mel. which is obviously when viktor walks in.

now i hear you saying: wouldn't the natural reaction be for viktor to start yelling, asking what the hell is going on, or for mel and viktor to have constructed this entire charade for viktor to let loose on him in some weird continuation of their foreplay? i see where you are coming from. that is not the way this unfolds.

viktor, very blase and casual about it all, says 'don't mind me' and takes a seat in the corner. now he is a spectator.

mel is very into this. viktor is very into this. jayce thinks he's going to pass out and he can't exactly tell why. but also i want to remind you of the 'got so hard i got nauseous: i think i hauve covid' mindset jayce is walking into this with. now imagine that times about one hundred. this is the only way i can explain that somehow, some way, jayce continues and they sleep together similarly to the scene in season one while viktor watches them the whole time. jayce, privately, can't tell if he's into this or not. he thinks he is, which is terrifying, but he kind of ignores viktor the entire time and mel does too.

the next morning jayce wakes up. he is much more soberingly aware of what exactly went down the night before and thinks his life is essentially over. viktor is, like, his only friend besides caitlyn. and maybe yesterday mel wasn't thinking straight so she regrets it this morning and now she won't want to see him either. but he can't ask her because he woke up in her bed and she isn't here.

now, today is saturday, which is usually when he and viktor have breakfast together in the lab because they trade-off on treating each other to waffles from one of the pastry stores down the street after a week of hard work. jayce is already convinced that he's going to go down to that lab and find one of two things: 1) empty lab, no viktor and no waffles, where he will proceed to kill himself in his head and cry for about two hours before going home and lying in bed the rest of the day or 2) viktor in the lab, mad, and ready to ream him out in a way he couldn't when mel was in the room yesterday.

neither of these options are very appealing to jayce, so on his way down to the lab, as though he's walking to the gallows, he stalls and kills himself in his head preemptively about three hundred times. then, about half an hour later than he's usually there, walks in.

bad news: viktor is there. good news: there are also waffles?

jayce is baffled. then immediately jumps to the logical conclusion that this is a friendship break-up breakfast and they are never going to speak to each other again after this.

viktor, who heard jayce walk in a minute ago before he froze at the sight of pastries, turns around and is like 'what took you so long? you're never usually late.' very casual. jayce, again, is baffled. viktor is seemingly oblivious to jayce's gripes [not true. he is incredibly aware] and invites him to sit down and eat waffles. viktor does not mention the night before.

mel, when he eventually sees her later, doesn't mention it either. jayce is so confused. no one is talking about it. he expected to ruin this entire interconnected trio by sleeping with mel in front of viktor the night before but literally nothing has come from it and he is waiting for the other shoe to drop while also coming to a vaguely terrifying sexual awakening after interrogating the fact that he was kind of into it when viktor was watching him and mel in bed but also he really liked sleeping with mel when it was happening. but anyway, getting off-track.

this is the rundown:

jayce isn't talking about it. he's decided that viktor not talking about it is some sort of implicit forgiveness where they both silently decide to never discuss it again because then they don't have to dissolve their friendship and make the rest of their partnership awkward. viktor reinforces this belief by acting like absolutely nothing is wrong.

mel isn't talking about it. she is very aware of the fact that jayce is being put through the horrors and interacting with him after that night and acting like nothing at all has happened while continuing to flirt with him makes his reactions to her advances about twice as entertaining and three times as attractive in how disproportionatley flustered he gets every time.

viktor isn't talking about it. he doesn't care that jayce slept with mel because watching was kind of hot as fuck and he was into it and he thinks that watching jayce slowly die inside every time mel drops by in the lab is very entertaining. especially considering the fact that jayce would usually vent to him but because of The Night he is absolutely not going to bother viktor with sexual frustrations about mel.

mel and viktor don't talk about it with each other. they only debrief during one of their closet-detours during a party where they kind of get each other off while in a very false-casual tone mentioning off-handedly how much more fun it would be if jayce was here right now.

jayce is not aware of the extent to which they've manufactured that specific night and the aftermath to ensure that he is in the torture chamber at all times. mel and viktor are slowly wearing down at jayce with their own almost imperciptable advances. after The Night, the culmination of months of planning and pointed remarks and lusting from mel and viktor, everything becomes a waiting game. and lowkey a competition between the two of them, too: who can get jayce to crack and talk about it.

the moment he does talk about it, they plan to invite him into the fold by having viktor seduce him into sleeping with him before mel joins in properly instead of just watching. in this scenario, jayce wakes up and mel and viktor are both there and they act like this is also very normal until jayce goes with the flow and accepts this new throuple-ish dynamic where no one actually says anything.

for now, though, they are waiting. jayce has no idea any of this is going on. he is the most stressed man alive and he thinks he is going to die about three times a day and kills himself in his head once a week because he can not stop thinking about viktor in the corner of the room and also how entirely overwhelmingly good he felt all because of mel. and he thinks he is bisexual but he was employed and a little mentally unstable for most of his teenhood so this is the first time he's thinking about it. and mel and viktor are still having their closet-detours while trying to sweat jayce out.

to me personally, this is the ideal pre-act two, season one dynamic for meljayvik to work. hope you all see the vision too

[romchat]

The Double (Ep. 26): A place to rest your head

"Everywhere else is not comfortable, but the place you picked sure is not bad."

Can we just take a moment to gush about THIS scene?

There's so much going on here and it's equal parts delicious and beautiful. Look, the writers and director of The Double don't always get it right, but when they do? Perfection. Fangfei and the Duke might now be one of my fave OTPs ever.

I've said this before but one of my favorite elements of The Double's storytelling is its use of extended metaphor, particularly its use of theater to represent Duke Su's character. Not only does he put on a good show but he also appreciates one. And Fangfei looks like a piece of art he can't help but admire.

Look at how lovingly the camera glides over her to represent his gaze. He could stare at her for hours and never grow bored. It's sexy but also incredibly intimate, especially since there's nothing really else in the frame but their faces. Both might say they lack a home, but it seems like they've been able to carve out a space for only the two of them just fine.

(See all those window and doorway frames within frames--they’re like a cocoon, protecting them from the outside world.)

But unlike Rapist Zhou, Duke Su doesn't want to conquer and possess Fangfei like an object, and you can immediately see him repressing the rage he feels at seeing her bruises in the close-up edit that lasts a beat too long.

It ties back to their earlier conversation about her wanting to switch roles with him and be the player instead of a pawn. He doesn't balk or make fun of her desire to see the world from a more powerful vantage point and instead clarifies whether she'd like him to be her pawn as well.

The fact that he knows what she has suffered at the hands of her ex husband and Rapist Zhou but only asks about what would make her feel empowered? Telling you, the man is trauma-informed. He knows when to ask questions and when to shut up.

And this close-up shot after the camera slowly pans from her bruised wrist to her gently smiling face? This shot made my heart twinge.

That Fangfei felt comfortable enough to come to his home and even rest in his private quarters after almost being assaulted is so incredibly telling. She knows he's gazing at her bruises and she smiles at him because she trusts that he'd never do the same.

I love that his presence gives her space to heal. It's such a marked difference from when they first met in that room.

SIDE NOTE: Whenever she gets to use that fan on him, I will go freaking feral.

Give me what I want, show.

[hugshughes]

Casual J. McCarthy

JJ McCarthy x fem!reader

synopsis - Although your relationship with JJ has always been categorized as no strings attached, the way he makes you feel is anything but casual.

wc - 4.6k

contains - she's angsty :( takes place in a universe where JJ and Katya broke up during like spring 2023!!! friends with benefits but more!!! "casual" relationship that acts like more, cursing, kissing, making out, reader's not great family life is mentioned once or twice, sex references (no elicit smut!), caught feelings, arguing, misunderstanding, shouting, eating, crying, hurt with comfort??? i think that's it!!! lmk!

an - wowwwwww this oneeeee. this took me so long to write like SO FUCKING LONG. started it, got sick, got better, wrote some more, got sick again, got better, THEN FINALLY FINISHED! ummmm idk... OH! i was surprised with tickets to Olivia Rodrigo and flew out to her Charlotte show A WEEK AFTER I COME BACK FROM THERE FOR SPRING BREAK to go with my favorite person ever! and Chappell Roan is her opener currently and SHE PLAYED CASUAL AND I CRIED.

-

my friends call me a loser, 'cause i'm still hanging around.

You often got shit from your friends over your relationship with JJ McCarthy. If you could even truly call it a relationship. The two of you had gotten "together" around the beginning of the school year. He'd followed you on Instagram after meeting at a party. How romantic?

He and his long term girlfriend, Katya had broken up about 6 months prior and the boy was not ready for another true commitment of any kind. You'd also gotten dumped by your boyfriend of over two years over the summer, so honestly neither were you.

You two were strictly casual. Just two not quite friends but also definitely not dating kids who made out and fucked, but also cuddled and kissed each other with no sinful intentions. He took you on dates but God forbid you call him your boyfriend.

i've heard so many rumors, that i'm just a girl that you bang on your couch.

You knew people talked about you two. Girls at parties and in random classes in hushed conversations while they glared into the back of your skulls.

"No, she's not like his girlfriend. She's like his no strings attached side piece or something."

Your eye twitched when you heard it whispered all too loudly behind you in a marketing class. You sighed and shrunk into your chair, reminding yourself that you were gonna private your Instagram.

JJ treated you like his girlfriend, point-blank. It wasn't even like a switch from in private to in public. He always did. But nevertheless he always said that it was all informal. There had been many nights where you stayed up questioning it all. Was you falling sleep on his chest while he played with your hair and kissed your head just another Saturday night for him?

i thought you thought of me better. someone you couldn't lose.

JJ made you feel special, like you were special to him. Special was something you didn't feel often, not after how your ex treated you. You were lucky to even get the bare minimum from him, yet you stayed because he made you believe that was what you deserved.

You and JJ both truly cared about each other. Even though you two were not together, you guys did everything two people that were together did. You went on dates, went together everywhere, cuddled, kissed, had long conversations. It was hard to not imagine how it would feel for him to really be your boyfriend.

You remember the night JJ unknowingly broke your heart. You were at a party, and you'd left to get drinks for the two of you. You were walking back over when you heard one of JJ's friends ask a stupid question.

"Where's your little girlfriend, Jay?"

"Oh, we're not together."

you said "we're not together". so now when we kiss, i have anger issues.

He laughed awkwardly as he said it, rubbing the back of his neck. You turned around and explored the rest of the party for a little while before going back over to JJ. When you returned and stuck a can in his hand, he pulled your arm towards him and kissed you deeply. It was a good kiss, all kisses with JJ were, but it left you hurting.

you said, "baby, no attachment",

It was always the same with JJ. There would be a long while where you and him were in a blissful and amazing haze of acting like a couple without having to be one. Then someone would ruin everything by asking if you were together, causing you two to realize you acted too much like a couple.

You and JJ trusted each other entirely. You'd seen every inch of each other. Helped each other through the bad days, all of it. You'd held him in your arms while he cried over the pressure he felt because of football. You cheered him on at every game. You spent countless nights in each other's beds. He listened while you talked for hours about problems with your family.

but we're... knee deep in the passenger seat, and you're eating me out.

You'd done stuff with JJ you'd never have the heart to repeat to anyone. You got closer to each other than you'd ever been with anyone else, and still there was a strict separation between you.

Your head often drifted to one of the many nights you spent in intimacy with JJ. Flashes of you in the backseat of his truck, in his bed, his shower, all of the above. You never let the words JJ said to you while he groaned above you in bed get to your head. You wanted to believe them, but knew you were better off to not. He made you the happiest you'd ever been while also making you completely miserable sometimes.

is it casual now?

Over the winter JJ had even brought you to dinner with his family. You'd met his parents, and his sisters, and they immediately fell in love with you. They assumed you were his girlfriend, though he never actually said that. They were so glad to see their boy so incredibly happy after being in the dumps over Katya all summer.

You remember at that same dinner freezing in your seat when his mom had what she felt was a bright idea.

"Oh, JJ, she should come to the beach this summer!"

You had to awkwardly laugh it off, throwing a joking 'Maybe!' out as his sisters boasted about how that was a great idea. JJ smiled uncouthly, laughing and carelessly nodding his head. You knew that topic would never be brought up, JJ would definitely not be asking you to spend the summer with him.

two weeks and your mom invites me, to her house in Long Beach. is it casual now?

You liked to pretend he was your boyfriend, it wasn't that hard most of the time. You were exclusive with each other, that was made clear at the beginning of your "relationship". JJ said something about how he wasn't the type to see more than one girl, and that you were that girl for him.

You were the one with him when he won the National Championship. He'd invited you to sit with his family. Like, what the fuck? How were you supposed to not be in love with him?

You knew JJ only wanted something casual. You tried not to think about how he was probably just with you to get over his ex. He told you about her, sometimes. He said how he thought he was gonna marry her, but she didn't want that. You couldn't imagine why. JJ was everything you'd ever need in a man. He was stable, and loyal, and made you laugh so hard you cried. He cared for you, no matter the status of your relationship.

i know what you tell your friends. it's casual, if it's casual now. but baby, get me off again. if it's casual, it's casual now.

What you had going on with JJ was great, and you were in no position to ruin it with your stupid feelings. You didn't really care what you were, as long as it was with JJ.

Now you were getting ready to go over to JJ's apartment for the night. He invited you over a couple hours ago, telling you he wanted to watch some movies and hang out with you. Of course you said yes, how could you not? He'd just finished up with the NFL Combine a couple days ago. And spring break had just ended so you hadn't seen him since before then, you were excited.

You adjusted your hair for the fourteenth time before you were satisfied. You would only be going from your place to the car to JJ's apartment. You still wanted him to think you looked good, good enough to be more than just his fling.

You grabbed your small overnight bag filled with the barebones of your necessities and left your apartment, swiftly locking the door behind you.

You listened to low music while you drove lowly through the college town. It was only a seven minute drive, so you got there right away. You parked your car and sat for a second as you were overcome with a random wave of dejection. You took a deep breath, your brain reminding your heart not to get too excited. You shook off the feeling, grabbing your bag from the passenger seat and exiting your car, locking it behind you.

You knocked lightly on the door you'd walked through all too many times. Barely ten seconds passed before the door opened, a bubbly dirty blonde with the cutest smile you'd ever seen standing opposite you. JJ immediately grabbed you by the hips, pulling you to hug him. You wrapped your arms around his neck, tucking your head into his shoulder. You let yourself believe all the stupid fantasies for just a second.

dumb love, i love being stupid.

"Missed you, gorgeous."

dream of us in a year.

You shut your eyes, squeezing him. He giggled, turning his head to kiss your neck. You felt his smile against your flushed skin.

"I missed you."

He held you tighter, pulling away to kiss your forehead and grab your hand. He shut the door behind you and pulled you further into his apartment. He led you to his bedroom before dropping your hand, turning to go back to the front of the apartment. You dropped your bag next to his bathroom door before taking your shoes off and tucking them just underneath his bed so they were out of the way.

maybe we'd have an apartment. and you'd show me off to your friends at the pier.

"How're you doin' pretty?"

JJ's voice echoed from the kitchen, you could literally hear his smile.

"'M doin' okay! Nothing new, y'know."

JJ heard something different in your voice. Something other than happiness, which obviously concerned him. You sat back on his bed, sighing.

"What's wrong? Sure you're good?"

"Yeah, it's fine! Some shit happened over spring break so I've just been a little out of it is all. Don't worry!"

The blonde came through the doorway again, this time holding a plastic bag with a logo you knew all too well. You gave him a smile that didn't aid his now worried mind.

"What happened? You could've called me."

"Oh come on, Jay. You were literally at the NFL Combine. I was not about to distract you with my stupid problems."

It's not like I'm your girlfriend. JJ shook his head as he sat the bag next to you, turning to open his closet door and rummage through his clothes.

"You can always call me. I wanna hear about all of your problems. You're my best friend, y'know."

i know, "baby, no attachment." but we're...

You winced, fuck. The man you were certain you were in love with just 100% friend zoned you. Just his best friend that he kissed, laid skin to skin with, told his family about.

knee deep in the passenger seat, and you're eating me out.

"I know! But still, you're Mr. National Champion and I'm not gonna bother you with dumb things."

"You're never bothering me. You don't bother me."

He came out of his closet, now shirtless and in new sweatpants. His eyes found yours and he raised his eyebrows, waiting for you to agree with him.

"Okay, okay, whatever. Come eat."

He climbed over you onto "his" side of his bed. You ate while asking him about the combine, as if you hadn't watched the videos of JJ's performance. You definitely appreciated how he looked in his tight red shirt.

"It was fun, nerve wracking as hell though. Kinda like made me realize that like I actually am going to the NFL. It's a lot closer than it feels."

He could say that again. You knew your time with JJ was coming to its end. Whenever he got drafted to an NFL team he wasn't gonna keep wanting a random girl from his old college. Not one that wasn't actually his girlfriend or anything. He'd find another one very quickly, you knew it.

"That's so scary. I couldn't imagine that. Having so many people depend on you for their happiness is too much. But you're good at it."

He threw you a smile, moving closer to you.

"I just love it. It's so fun for me. Obviously not like losing but having so much support is actually really nice sometimes."

You nodded, trying to fathom how it was possible for the boy to be so positive always. You both were done eating so JJ took all of your trash and threw everything into the garbage. When he came back he pulled you closer to him, your head on his shoulder and your back to his chest.

"But enough about football. How was spring break? D'you have fun?"

"Um, yeah! For the most part it was really fun. Florida was fun but when I went home for the last three days it was honestly the worst. My mom was so mean for no reason the whole time, I don't know."

He ran his hands over the tops of your thighs before wrapping his arms around your hips. He kissed the side of your head sweetly, not moving as he spoke into your hair.

"'M sorry baby. Y'don't deserve that."

"Eh it's whatever. I'm used to her not being my biggest fan at this point."

JJ felt so bad. He couldn't relate to you on this level. He'd never know what it feels like to not have good parents.

"Well if it helps any, my mom's your biggest fan, to be completely honest. She keeps texting me to make sure you know you're invited to the beach this summer."

two weeks and your mom invites me, to her house in Long Beach.

It comforted and hurt you all the same. There's no way you could accept that invitation, no matter how sweet it was. You couldn't survive a week with his family while still only being casual. No way in hell.

"That's really sweet, Jay."

You shifted in his arms, turning so your cheek laid against his bare chest. You smiled and lightly kissed his pec.

is it casual now?

"So, what are we watching, Jay?"

"Whatever you want."

It was just another small thing that made you fall harder for him. You didn't know how much longer you could pretend like you didn't want him more than physically.

"How To Lose A Guy In 10 Days?"

"Are you plotting or somethin'?"

You can't lose something that isn't yours. Your smile faltered but you let out a forced giggle, telling JJ to just play the movie. You watched the majority of the movie in silence, answering JJ's questions whenever he had them. At some point the movie got boring, you'd seen it a million times before. You started running your nails over JJ's pec, unknowingly distracting him. He traced his hand up your back and to your hand on his chest, interlocking his with yours.

i know what you tell your friends. it's casual, if it's casual now.

You leaned away from him just a bit to look him in the eyes. You stared at each other for just a few seconds, just until JJ took his hand out of yours, grabbing ahold of your jaw. The thoughts filling your mind seemed to quiet down as JJ kissed you. The kiss quickly grew hot as JJ's hands traveled back down your body. Your tongue hit the seam of his lips, a downright immoral sound leaving his mouth.

You shifted onto your knees over JJ, the connection between you persistent. Your hands ran through his hair, tugging slightly at the dirty blonde locks.

but baby, get me off again. if it's casual, oh, oh, oh.

Your chest pressed against his as he pulled you closer, leaving no space between you. Every move of JJ's mouth and hands cushioned your spiraling thoughts, muting them. Your could focus your thinking on nothing but the physicality of the situation. Until JJ shifted his hands to the curve of your ass and gentley moved so your back was flush with his comforter, the quarterback kneeling over you. It was the position change as much as what he groaned out when your lips parted for just a moment that had you stopping in your tracks.

"Fuck, my girl."

His girl. His girl? How could you be his girl? You didn't mean to hesitate in your kiss with JJ but you did, pausing for just a second. Though it was long enough for JJ to notice and immediately grow concerned. He pulled back from you, his eyes full of worry. Did you not want this?

"Hey, what's wrong? We don't have to do anything, you know that. Right? Sorry I got carried away, baby."

He comforted you immediately, like a man who loved you would. Not like a no strings attached fuck friend would. It soothed you but also made you ache even more. Why did he have to act like he cared? It wasn't fair.

"No, Jay. Sorry, it's fine. I just,"

You trailed off, wanting to hide from his concerned blue eyes. You kind of wished he'd get pissed off that you were hesitant, asking 'The fuck is wrong with you?' instead of being the most gentle and loving person you'd ever known.

"Hey, it's more than okay. Alright? Is something else wrong?"

Yes. Something else was wrong. You're in love with JJ but he's unattainable. You wondered if he knew, if he knew and was still treating you the same just to keep you loyal. Your silence proved JJ right, something was seriously wrong.

"Talk to me, okay? I wanna make you feel better."

You finally looked into his eyes. He was now next to you, laying on his side, confused and concerned.

This is where it ends, you told yourself. There really wasn't a way around telling him, and all you could do was imagine his reaction. You sat up, crossing your legs and looking down at your hands. How the fuck were you supposed to start this? Do you just break it off with no explanation, or let him do it after you tell him you're in love?

"Well I just, I don't know if I can do this anymore, JJ. And I'm sorry, I really-"

"What? That's really not what I thought this was about."

He was shocked, his chest tightened as he leaned away from you, moving off the bed to stand. He crossed his arms over his chest for some comfort.

it's hard being casual, when my favorite bra lives in your dresser.

"JJ, I'm sorry, really. I just, we're supposed to be strictly casual and it's honestly kinda hard when we're so close to each other. Like a quarter of my clothes are in your closet! It's just kind of a lot."

You too stood from his bed, now standing on opposite sides. You didn't want to hurt JJ, but it would only hurt you worse and worse in the end if you kept letting yourself indulge in him.

"Baby, what changed? I thought everything was fine the way it was."

it's hard being casual, when i'm on the phone talking down your sister.

"Jayj, it's just kind of a lot of pressure. Like, we FaceTime your sister when we hang out! Your mom invited me to your summer vacation! Like how is that casual?"

JJ stood there, astounded. He was shocked you felt this way. He thought everything was better than okay. He would've never guessed it all felt too relationship-y for you.

"So, what? Are you like breaking up with me, or?"

"That's exactly my point, JJ! What do you mean by breaking up? There's nothing solid in between us! Our quote unquote label is 'friends that fuck but also sometimes just lay skin to skin and talk for hours on end'. That's fucking confusing JJ! I don't get you!"

and i try to be the chill girl, that holds her tongue and gives you space. i try to be the chill girl but, honestly, i'm not.

Your volume rose as felt tears pricking behind your waterline. You brought your hands to your eyes, rubbing aggressively with the heel of your palms. JJ was so hurt. He didn't think of you as just something casual, not since the very beginning had he thought you two were just random and informal. He knew you two weren't a couple, but he didn't think of you as anything near just his fuck buddy. Watching you, obviously distraught, almost crying in his bedroom over him being too much of a boyfriend had JJ rethinking himself.

"Am I too much? I thought we were more than that to you. I thought I was more than that."

"You are! You are and it's ruining my fucking life!"

knee deep in the passenger seat, and you're eating me out. two weeks and your mom invites me, to her long beach house. i know what you tell your friends. baby, get me off again.

You shouted, tears starting to fall down your face. You tried to wipe them away as you hiccuped, cutting JJ off before he could respond.

"You tell me all you want is something casual so that's what I give you! I was there when you needed it, I left you alone otherwise. But then you just didn't let me go! You make me feel important! And like I'm special to you, then I hear you tell your friends we're nothing serious! I met your family, I went to your championship game and sat with them! Do you know how fucked that is? To tell a girl that is obviously invested in you that she means something to you then doing that! I just- I really wanted you to like me, for real. And you act like you do! But I know you don't really care about what we are. I can't pretend to not like you more than that, JJ. It's not fair anymore."

i fucked you in the bathroom, when we went to dinner.

Holy shit. You'd just practically told JJ you were in love with him. He was even more confused now, was this a joke?

your parents at the table, you wonder why i'm bitter?

"What are you talking about? This hasn't been casual to me since fucking October! I do this shit because I like you! Like, I really like you! You know, before I got broken up with in February last year, I thought I was ready to fuckin' marry her. And then seven months later you come into my life, and you're supposed to be this girl that I'm not really committed to, and that distracts me from how hurt I am. But, I'm more in love with you than I ever was with her! And I thought I would spend my entire fuckin' life with her! Do you know how scary that is? That someone I've known for barely seven months is making me feel more than the girl I dated for years! I'm terrified, it fucking sucks!"

bragging to your friends, i get off when you hit it. i hate to tell the truth, but i'm sorry dude you didn't.

Your mouth fell open, pupils constricting under the haze of tears. JJ just told you he was more in love with you than the girl he thought was gonna be his wife. His tears were flowing by the end of his emotional outburst. He buried his head in his hands, turning away from you.

You couldn't believe what you'd heard. The boy you were convinced didn't want you enough to really have you had just poured his entire heart out over how much he loved you. You were in love just as hard.

You moved slowly around his bed, watching for signs of him shifting again. You gently grabbed his wrists, urging his hands from his face. You jumped to throw your arms around his neck, wrapping him in a hug. His arms wrapped around you so tightly, he cried into your shoulder.

i hate that i let this drag on so long. now, i hate myself.

"I'm sorry."

"'M so sorry."

You both let out your apologies at the same time, causing JJ to let out a wet giggle into the crook of your neck.

"I just love you so much."

Your heart squeezed as JJ spoke into your shoulder, teary and sweet. You loved him just as much. You couldn't believe what was happening.

"I've been in love with you since you took me to the lake."

You whispered it slowly, muffled by his shoulder. On that chilly day in November JJ had driven you guys an hour or so to the coast of the nearest Great Lake, Lake Erie. You ate of the sandy shore and watched the water. It was one of the first times you two were together where it really felt like you were boyfriend and girlfriend.

You'd realized he was the sweet and caring one you'd been waiting for for so long. And it ruined you.

JJ squeezed you tighter. A little sob mixed with a giggle shaking through him. He sniffed, kissing your neck gently.

"I didn't wanna believe I was in love with you, as obvious as it was. I was scared of really being in love after what had happened before. You were just so amazing, and kind, and you listened to me. I've been trying to push it away 'cause I didn't think it was how you felt. Which I can't believe you didn't just tell me, by the way."

You giggled now, pulling away from his shoulder to look at him, jaw dropping.

"Alright, Mr. I don't really need anything serious right now I'm still hurt over my ex. Yeah, sorry I never told you I was in love."

JJ just kissed you, and it felt so incredibly right. Kissing the boy you loved, in his bedroom, where half of your clothes lived. The boy who's whole family, including him, loved you and thought you were perfect for him. You smiled against his lips, you just couldn't help it.

"Can't believe you went from friend zoning me to telling me you loved me in two hours."

JJ pulled away from you abruptly, confusion filling his face.

"When did I friend zone you? I didn't do that!"

"'You can always call me. I wanna hear about all of your problems. You're my best friend, y'know.' It wasn't very soothing to a girl who was actively debating telling you she was in love with you."

"Well you are my best friend! But also the girl I want so, two for one."

You laughed, rolling your eyes playfully as you pulled him by his neck to kiss you. You both couldn't help it as you smirked and giggled into your kiss, hands and minds wandering.

JJ pulled back from you for just a second, causing you to groan.

"Can I be your boyfriend?"

Your annoyance was quickly replaced, your eyes widening. You just smiled and nodded pulling him back in.

"Duh."

Your boyfriend squeezed your ass at your playful response, kissing you deeper. Your head was spinning, JJ was finally yours, for real. You were his girlfriend and he was your boyfriend. And one day, you'd walk down the aisle with him waiting at the altar, not that either of you knew that now. So much for keeping your relationship casual?

i hate that i let this drag on so long. you can go to hell.

[according2thelore]

Do you have any spn omegaverse fic recs?

oh boy, do i!

this is a pretty exhaustive list of omegaverse, with varied designations and (less varied) ratings. this is in no particular order (and not a list of every fic i've ever read and enjoyed), either, just some fics i've collected over the years.

please note that some of these are underage (as they are teenchester fics and the like), and some deal with sensitive topics so please be diligent about checking the notes/tags!

samdean:

alpha4alpha Series by HandsAcrossTheSea & trashhearts67

[RATING: E, Warnings: None, A!Dean & A!Sam] The most forbidden fruit tastes the sweetest, and Dean wants a taste of Sam. Two alphas shouldn't want each other. But when has Dean ever had any use for what should be?

The Bite of Knowledge by theproblematique [rec note: THEE omegaverse fic imo]

[RATING: E, Warnings: None, O!Dean & A!Sam] Omegas can tell when alphas are attracted to them. It's a survival mechanism. After years of buildup, Dean finally realizes that Sam is attracted to him. It's a shitshow.

Only Real When I'm With You by WhiskyBoys

RATING: E, Warnings: None, O!Dean & A!Sam At sixteen Dean was exceptionally pretty. Even for an omega. Fair hair, pale skin, big green eyes and wholesome freckles. And he was a virgin. The training officers, always smirking, said that was a good thing. Told him that was why his pathetic omega life was valuable enough to pay off all his father’s debts.

Gunpowder & Honeysuckle by hereforsammy [private}

RATING: E, Warnings: Underage, A!Dean & O!Sam One would think it would be enough; All of those bits and pieces that made up the large jigsaw puzzle of their lives, smashed in the back of an old black car tearing down highways in backwater towns, and nights spent in stale motel rooms with cigarette holes burned into every surface, to let Dean know the glaringly obvious thing he had been both running to, and avoiding, was staring him in the face all along. Heated neon in the pitch black sky over shabby dives of no name towns, that painted themselves on the backs of your eyelids even when you blinked. His baby boy smelled sweet.

Three Weeks Too Late (the 'Five Weeks' remix) by rei_c

RATING: E, Warnings: None, A!Dean & O!Sam Dean swallows at the thought of that: Sam's home, his soon-to-be omega's scent everywhere, on everything. Sam wants to take Dean back to his den. "Okay," he says. "Your place. But not -- it has to be now, Sam. I can't wait much longer." "Yeah," Sam says. "Yeah, it's been five weeks since your birthday." (aka, the one where Dean finally claims his omega.)

The Hottest Days by WevyrDove [rec note: a classic; w this and the bite of knowledge, i think one of my first wincest fics, lol]

RATING: E, Warnings: Underage, A!Dean & O!Sam John is away on a hunting trip when Sam experiences his first heat cycle. Dean panics and makes Sam lock himself up in his room in a desperate attempt to keep temptation at bay.

5th Period by alwaysthrowsscissors [rec note: also a fandom classic]

RATING: E, Warnings: Underage, A!Dean & O!Sam Without hesitation, Dean dropped to his knees, burying his face in the wet seat of Sam’s jeans, teasing out the cutest little whimper. “Am I- God, am I...” He trembled, voice soft. “Yeah,” Dean groaned, muffled, nuzzling against the rough fabric. His fucking greatest dream came true. Precious, beautiful Sammy; an omega. Dean always knew that whatever Sam presents as doesn't matter; he's going to fuck Sam hard and claim him either way. But, Dean never imagined that all eyes at school would be on his little brother, waiting to see what he will become and who will get to claim him as their mate. Sam goes into his first heat in the middle of class.

Sam's Inner Omega by TammyRenH

RATING: Unrated, Warnings: None, A!Dean & O!Sam Another spn_kink meme fill (just trying to un-rust my writing skills - such as they are) For the prompt: There are two sides to every Omega; the side that wants to be cuddled and pampered. And the side that wants to be pinned down and fucked roughly like a bitch in heat. Up to you who tops and who bottoms. I’m good with any kinks as long as all aspects of the fic are consensual. Please and thank you!

Taste Every Fruit by thatsakitkat [rec note: aka the lactation fic, a fandom classic fr]

RATING: E, Warnings: None, O!Dean&A!Sam There's no real words to describe how feeding Sam feels. Dean thinks it might be better than orgasms, but it's a whole different kind of pleasure, one that makes him feel sleepy and proud of himself for being able to take care of his brother this way. Everything feels right in the world, all Dean's problems taken away in the gentle pulls of Sam's mouth.

A Blind Fool's Luck by hellhoundsprey

RATING: E, Warnings: None, A!Dean&O!Sam Prompt: sam is an omega. or, he was. before puberty really hits, john puts him on suppressants/has him surgically altered so he doesn’t attract aggressive alphas/is put in less danger/makes their lifestyle easier. sam’s too young to really consent. his feelings of being a “freak” stem from not feeling right in his own body. this is why sam is abnormally large for an omega, this is where a lot of his self loathing stems from. dean didn’t know before and carries guilt for not stopping it. doesn’t know how to make it better, tries anything he can, which in dean’s world is a lot of pretending it didn’t happen out loud. sam gets by until he starts getting closer to 40 and it starts to get to him more than it used to. amara either gives dean THAT gift instead of bringing mary back, or rowena finds out and gives sam the spell to fix what happened to him at his choice. sam doesn’t tell dean about the change, but he can scent it. it’s obvious sam feels more comfortable in his skin again. suddenly sam smells like his dream partner. cue him dealing with that, dunno if he tells him or acts differently or what. basically it comes out that sam has always scented dean that way and then happy parts ensue.

Hymenated - Demon by forlovedones

RATING: E, Warnings: Chose Not to List, O!Dean&A!Sam Demon Dean is loose in the bunker and stalking his Alpha through the halls. Maybe there'd be time to fuck Sam's brains out first, before he bashed them in with the hammer.

Unexpected by fullmoon_nightowl

RATING: M, Warnings: None, A!Dean&O!Sam Sam always wanted children, but he’s been infertile all his life. Two months after Chuck’s defeated, the stick turns blue. Dean’s protective instincts go into overdrive.

It's Yours, My Demon by littlefirefly31

RATING: E, Warnings: None, A!Dean & O!Sam Prompt: Could I please for fic where Omega Sam found out a couple a days before the last episode that he is pregnant with Dean's child, but now his alpha is a demon and Sam is doesn't know what to do, but the demon!Dean finds out ... (knotting, bottom!Sam, happy ending)?

To Give You What You Want by littlefirefly31

RATING: E, Warnings: None, A!Dean & O!Sam Prompt: Post 9 season AU where alpha Dean isn't a demon and brothers lives together as mates (alpha and omega). They are happy but both really wants to have a baby and during Sam's a few day heat Dean going to finally breed his omega (knotting, mpreg) Summary: Sam and Dean were content, but they really wanted something more. They wanted a child. So Dean knew he was going to try everything to breed his omega and give them what they wanted.

And nothing else matters by waywardelle

RATING: E, Warnings: None, A!Dean & O!Sam Dean inexplicably pushes Sam away when their mother returns to their lives. After she leaves, Dean stays away anyway. Sam wants to kill Dean for ignoring the fact that they're fuckin' mated, but the omega in him tells him to be patient. So, he waits. And he misses his Alpha like crazy.

All in the Timing by C_aura

RATING: E, Warnings: Dub-Con, A!Dean & O!Sam Sam hasn’t had a heat in ten years. Dean may not be his mate, but he’s past waiting patiently and decides it’s time to take a more hands-on approach.

Happy Birthday to Me! by WhiskyBoys

RATING: E, Warnings: Underage, O!Dean & A!Sam Dean wants to be an omega, and he wants Sam to be the one to turn him. Sam doesn’t stand a chance.

A new Life by KillerOfHope

RATING: E, Warnings: Underage, O!Dean & A!Sam Prompt Fill for SPN Kinkmeme: AU for S10E12 - "About a boy" The witch wasn't just deaging adults, she had them turned into Omegas as well, since she preferred the taste of fresh young Omegas. The cake she and Hansel fed their victims was spiked with magically enhanced Alpha sperm to ensure a quick turn. So when Dean showed up at their motelroom, Sam wasn't just faced with a teen version of his brother, but with a newly presented Omega.

and it's you that i want by according2thelore [rec note: i'm not above a self rec, lol!]

RATING: E, Warnings: None, O!Dean & A!Sam "You know that’s not what I meant.” Mr. Smith says into the phone, and he sounds exhausted. Sam doesn’t turn around, trying to give him as much privacy as possible, even if it’s imagined. Sam throws his whole body weight into his next pull of the handle, feeling the budding sweat from earlier as a full-body wave, pricking at his neck and armpits and forehead. Nothing. The door doesn’t budge. Sam’s trapped. Or: Sam Wesson gets stuck in a supply closet with his boss, who's hiding out to fight with his girlfriend. Sensing the available omega that Sam's been into for months, Sam goes into an early rut.

since you said "spn" and not specifically wincest, i also have a handful of J2 fics here. i don't even think i really ship J2, but while going through these i realized i have...uh...quite a lot lol...

J2:

for a good cause by hellhoundsprey

RATING: E, Warnings: None, O!Jensen & A!Jared Jensen covers for a teammate in the kissing booth of a local charity event. It’s for a good cause, after all, and only for an hour. What can possibly go wrong?

Neighborhood Love by ashtraythief

RATING: E, Warnings: None, O!Jensen & A!Jared Jensen might be an omega, but that doesn’t mean he’s just going to say yes to any alpha who comes along. His parents think he has impossible standards, his friends think he’s a grumpy bastard. There’s probably some truth to all of that, but there’s also the fact that Jared, a really cute and really tall alpha just moved in next door and Jensen has a crush. Thankfully, as it turns out, so does Jared.

Perfect Disaster by ashtraythief

RATING: E, Warnings: None, A!Jensen & O!Jared Jared never banked on the perfect romantic moment of meeting his mate, but having him come into the ER as a patient is ridiculous. Even after Jensen is recovered, life keeps getting in the way of them properly consummating their mating, until Jensen has enough of the interruptions and whisks Jared away for a weekend getaway.

Crazy About You (Two) by ashtraythief

RATING: E, Warnings: None, A!Jensen & O!Jared One of the many things that attracted Jared to Jensen when they first met was that Jensen was such a laid-back alpha. He never did any of the dumb alpha posturing, wasn’t possessive or jealous. But recently—recently things had taken a turn. And Jared doesn’t mind the frequent and quite frankly amazing sex they’re having, but when Jensen becomes possessive, quite literally refuses to let him leave the bed, Jared realizes that something’s different. And he does not like it—until he figures out why Jensen’s so possessive all of a sudden.

Better Late Than Never (I Guess) by littlefirefly31

RATING: Not Rated, Warnings: None, A!Jensen & O!Jared Prompt: Could I ask for fic where alpha Jensen taking care of Jared during his heat (knotting, marathon sex), please? Summary: Jensen's lived next to Jared for five years and he has no idea how to tell the omega he loves him.

Patience Is Not a Virtue by fullmoon_nightowl

RATING: E, Warnings: Underage, A!Jensen & O!Jared J1 and J2 recently got mated. J1 is older and wanted to wait for J2's first heat to have sex. J2 doesn't really appreciate it because he's been crushing hard on J2. So while J1 tries to make their first time gentle and sweet, J2 just wants to get his dick already.

Taste Like Sugar by littlefirefly31

RATING: E, Warnings: None, A!Jensen & O!Jared Prompt: Speaking of series, could you do one where omega!jared is a very tiny wolf and alpha!Jensen, who's large for a wolf, if very protective over him?

Mistaken Identity by littlefirefly31

RATING: Not Rated, Warnings: None, A!Jensen & O!Jared Prompt: Jared is an unmated omega because of his size most alphas find him intimidating. Or confuse him for a beta. Of course this makes him have insecurities so he starts hiding his omega status. He meets Jensen and of course Jensen is all over him and wants to mate him but Jared thinks he's playing because he's been hurt in the past before. Sorry if it's too long. True mating welcome go free with it. I'm always interested how you put your twists. Thank you.

World Goes 'Round by Misunderstanding by queerly_it_is [rec note: a fandom classic]

RATING: E, Warning: Underage, O!Jensen & A!Jared Jensen and Jared love each other, but neither of them knows that. Jensen goes into heat and seeks out Jared, who gives in to what’s he’s ashamed of wanting. Jared calls Jensen’s parents who make a deal with Jared that they don’t see fit to inform Jensen of, and matters only get worse when Jensen finds out he’s pregnant and runs away from home to keep his baby.

thanks for this ask, anon! i hope you enjoy reading through these! :)

-lizzy

[angelswing236]

"Let's try this."

Fictober 24 challenge

Fandom: Downton Abbey

Fanfiction

‘Nanny Archer, you said there’s a problem with Master George,’ Thomas said, trying to keep his worry under control. The maid the nanny had sent to find him hadn’t been able to fill in any of the blanks.

‘Oh, Mr Barrow, thank goodness. I didn’t want to send for Lady Mary or Mr Branson. Not without trying everything first. You were the only person I could think of who might be able to help,’ the nanny said, clearly more exasperated than worried.

‘Help with what?’ Thomas scanned the room anxiously seeing no sign of the boy. ‘Where is Master George?’

‘He’s under his bed.’

Thomas did a double take, not quite sure he’d heard her right. ‘Under his bed?’

‘The little scamp won’t come out,’ Nanny Archer said, irritably. ‘I’ve tried everything I can think of, but he simply refuses to budge. He hasn’t even come out for his lunch.’

‘Do you know why he’s under there?’ Thomas asked, pursing his lips.

‘I've no idea.’

‘Right. Let’s try this,’ Thomas said, swiping the apple sitting on the table with Master George’s untouched lunch.

Wandering over to the child’s bed, he slid down the wall to sit on the floor. He pulled his penknife from his pocket and began to peel the apple.

‘Hello, Master George. It’s Barrow,’ he said, concentrating on peeling the skin in one long, curly strip.

There was silence for a moment and then a small voice replied, ‘Hello, Barrow.’

‘How are things? Nanny says you’ve been under that bed for a while. Are you quite comfy there?’

‘No. It’s made me sneeze a bit.’

‘Dusty, is it? I’ll have to tell Mrs Hughes to tell the maids to give it a good, old clean. A man can’t have a dusty den, can he?’

There was silence again, so Thomas finished peeling the apple, coiling the long strip onto the floor beside him.

‘You’ve missed lunch. You must be hungry. Would you like to share my apple?’

‘Yes, please.’

Thomas sliced off a piece of apple and held it out towards the bed. A little hand snaked out from underneath it and took the slice, disappearing back into the dark.

Slicing another piece, Thomas popped it into his mouth. ‘Oh, that’s a nice apple, isn’t it? Nice and juicy. I like them like that, don’t you?’

‘Yes.’

‘Would you like another slice?’

‘Yes, please.’

Thomas held out a second slice, pleased to see the little hand flash out and take it again.

‘Now, I’m all for a man having his own private space where he can think about things, Master George, but if you don’t mind me asking, what made you retreat to your den?’

For a moment, the boy said nothing, and Thomas began to wonder if he’d overplayed his hand. Resisting the urge to fill the silence, he cut another piece of apple and held it out.

George took the slice and then said in a quiet voice, ‘Donk said Isis has gone to heaven, so I won’t ever see her again.’

Thomas pressed his lips together. Now they were getting to the heart of it. ‘Yes, that’s right. She has gone to heaven.’

‘Why? Why couldn’t she stay here?’

‘She was very poorly, Master George. I expect she didn’t want to leave you, but sometimes it can’t be helped.’

Silence reigned again and Thomas held out another slice of apple. George took it and munched it before speaking again.

‘Mummy says Daddy is in heaven.’

Thomas paused for a moment in slicing the apple, his heart going out to the boy. ‘Yes, he is.’

‘And Sybbie’s mummy is in heaven, too.’

Sorrow twisted in Thomas’ gut for a moment. ‘Yes, Lady Sybil is there, too.’

‘So, they’re all there together?’

‘Yes. I expect your daddy and your Auntie Sybil are taking Isis for a good, long walk, just the kind she likes.’

‘But if they’re all there together, can’t we go and visit them?’ the child asked, plaintively. ‘Like we go and visit Granny Isobel?’

Thomas thought for a moment, slowly cutting another slice of apple and handing it over.

‘You can’t visit them, Master George. Heaven is a lovely place, but you can only go there once and then when you get there, you can’t come back.’

‘Why not? Aren’t there any cars in heaven?’

‘No, there aren’t.’

‘That’s why I’ve never met my daddy? Because I wouldn’t be able to come back home?’

‘Yes,’ Thomas said, gently.

‘I don’t think I’d like not being able to come home.’

‘No.’

‘Is anybody else going to go to heaven, Barrow?’

‘We’ll all go at some point, Master George, but not for a long while, I hope,’ Thomas replied, hoping that would be enough for the boy.

‘Hmm.’

All was quiet as George considered that.

‘May I have another slice of apple, please, Barrow?’

‘Of course, you can. Although, between us, Mrs Patmore has an apple cake downstairs that’s even tastier. That’s if you’re ready to come out of your den.’

‘Apple cake?’

‘It looks delicious.’

George scrambled out from underneath the bed, blinking in the light. ‘Do you think she’ll let me have a slice?’

‘I think if I have a word with her, she will.’

The child grinned as Thomas stood up.

‘Master George and I are going to the kitchen on important business, Nanny,’ Thomas announced, the boy’s hand tucked in his.

[quintessenceofdust88]

👵🏻👵🏻👵🏻👵🏻👵🏻

🍼 🍼🍼🍼🍼🍼🍼

Please and thank you 😊

Hi Diana darling! Of courseee, I've got you, my love ♥ Here's 15 (ok, 17, but you know how Nonna is, she always wants extra sentences for everyone!) sentences of Nonna Rosa, a direct continuation of my fuck it friday snippet: 👵🏻

“How come you never told me you’re an artist?” Buck asks him, and Tommy frowns at him until his eyes land on the painting that Buck’s close to. Then he rubs his neck, his blush deepening and not from the cold this time.

“Nonna, are you already throwing me under the bus? It hasn’t even been ten minutes since Evan’s got here” He says with a nervous chuckle, and Nonna doesn’t look even the tiniest bit apologetic.

“I haven’t started throwing you under the bus yet, Tomasino, I am merely letting Evan know about your talent”, she tells him, patting his cheek. 

“And she is right, you are very talented, babe”, Buck interjects, still admiring the four or five paintings that adorn the small living room; it seems Nonna has put them in every wall space available. It gives Buck a warm feeling in his chest; it’s exactly the kind of thing Maddie would have done if he had any sort of artistic talent. “How come I never saw anything like that in your house?”

“Ah, I wouldn’t call it talent, I just… Anyway, I haven’t painted in a really long time”, Tommy shrugs, his eyes scrutinizing his works with a much more critical glance than Buck. “My… My father didn’t like it, said it wasn’t something men did. Eventually it became too much work, trying to hide it from him, and I just stopped”

There’s a smallness in his voice as he admits to that. Not for the first time, Buck privately wishes he could meet Tommy’s dad just so he could give him a piece of his mind. Tommy barely talks about him, the little Buck’s known has been pieced together by glimpses here and there, but it seemed the man tried to squash down every urge of Tommy that didn’t fit his own twisted idea of what ‘real men’ should be like. He knows he lives in this very same town, but that Tommy has no intention of extending the visit to him. 

“Pah, that man was always too stupid to understand anything”, Nonna says, disdain clear in every word, but then she looks at Tommy with the softest look. “You should pick it up again, tesoro. It used to make you so happy, working through a painting, and they were always so beautiful. You deserve beautiful things in your life” She looks meaningfully at Buck, who does his best not to look like a deer caught in the headlights and smiles softly at her. (Blobs under the cut!)

And here are 21 sentences of Little Blobs, ch. 3, for you: “...A stork plushie?” 

Tommy groans, sitting up in bed and blinking at Evan. His husband is lying down on his side, his hand draped over his belly as it’s become his habit in the last ten days. There’s the tiniest bump under his shirt; it’s barely noticeable, really, and they only know because they’ve been avidly looking for it ever since finding out about their blobs. But it’s there, and Tommy smiles as his hand joins Evan’s, even though he sighs exasperatedly at his husband’s idea. 

“Where exactly do you plan to find a stork plushie, Evan? And how exactly would that announce your pregnancy to your family?”

Evan shrugs, as he usually does when Tommy points flaws in ideas he thought infallible. 

“I don’t know, Amazon?” He says, and before Tommy can think of an answer, he’s already lighting up, sitting in bed with an excited smile. “C’mon, can’t you imagine it? We could put two little bundles in the beak and a plate saying ‘Special Delivery!’. It would be so cute!”

“You’re cute”, Tommy can’t help but say, placing a kiss on Evan’s cheek, and the way he blushes and smiles bashfully, even after eighteen months together, will never cease to make Tommy’s heart skip a beat. “But I don’t know, darling, sounds like a lot of work. And what if someone comes by and sees the plushie earlier? You know our friends have no boundaries, they just drop by whenever”

Evan hums thoughtfully, nodding and then dropping his head by Tommy’s shoulder, snuggling into his chest. Tommy cuddles him close, softly caressing his arm as the two of them try to think of another way to announce their babies that’s cute and not absurdly tacky. 

“How about we throw a barbecue?”, Tommy suggests after a while. “We have two weeks before we’re ready to tell, right? So we find a way to get everyone’s shifts aligned, throw a barbecue and just… tell them?”

“Hmmm, I like the idea of a barbecue”, Evan says delightedly, and Tommy snorts; in the last few days, his husband has been liking the idea of any food.  His morning sickness is a lot more subdued, only showing up with some specific foods, and the rest of the time he’s been ravenous. And the worst part is that the cravings are starting to show up; just two days ago Evan asked Tommy to go to the market to get him coconut yogurt cause he desperately needed it. Once Tommy brought it, he had to watch Evan drop Cheetos into the yogurt and eat the concoction as if it came from a Michelin restaurant.Tommy's still not over it, and he's not sure he’ll finish this pregnancy with his sanity intact.

-- I hope you enjoy it, darling, and that you have a great week! ♥ ♥

[the-ghost-of-jason-todd]

Hello MotA and other WWII fandoms (based on real people or not)! I have a fun piece of history for you that you may or may not be aware of.

I just finished my last day working at a pretty cool place. It's a branch of the public library in Albuquerque, New Mexico, U.S.A. What does this have to do with WWII? Let me tell you!

I just so happened to work at the Ernie Pyle branch, named so because it was the only house that the WWII war correspondent Ernie Pyle and his wife Jerry ever owned. Ernie Pyle, if you have never heard of him:

went overseas with the soldiers to document the second world war

pioneered human-interest style journalism for war reporting, specifically focusing on the lives of the soldiers and conditions on the front lines

wrote MANY MANY articles about the soldiers and their daily lives

won some awards, including a Pulitzer Prize

and was killed in action in Japan in 1945, at the age of 44

Here he is, looking a lot more serious than a lot of the pictures of him in his home, as well as a shot of him, his wife, and their dog, named Cheetah:

And, if you've never seen it, the house-turned-library looks like this:

The Indiana University has a few of his articles free to read, so check those out if you want to get an idea of the kind of journalism I'm talking about here: https://erniepyle.iu.edu/wartime-columns/index.html

For the MotA fans specifically, one cool fact about Ernie Pyle is that he had not one, but TWO separate B-29 "superfortresses" named after him. One was just called the Ernie Pyle, while the other was called Ernie Pyle's Milk Wagon (in reference to a quote of his calling the bombings of Japan "milk runs"). The library has a picture of the Ernie Pyle up on top of one of the windows:

And here it is in flight:

So, why a library? Why not, say, a museum? Well, there IS a museum--in his hometown of Dana, Indiana. After his death in 1945, and before his wife's passing that same year, Jerry Pyle (said wife) decided to give their house to the City of Albuquerque in order to honor his memory. There was a lot of back and forth, but one thing stood out above all else: Ernie was a private guy, and this was his home. According to an interview he once gave, he'd said that he built a house because he "needed a place to store his books"--and so what better way to commemorate his work than to fill his house with books?

The house was built in 1940, and as a library it has been in near-continuous use since 1948. It's now a national historic landmark, as well, and celebrates National Ernie Pyle Day every year. It is the second oldest library of the Albuquerque Bernalillo County Library System--the oldest being our Special Collections library--which makes it the very first satellite of the ABQ library system. The ABQ library system now boasts 19 locations. The Ernie Pyle branch is, still, the smallest.

It also has an Ernie Pyle G.I.Joe action figure on display, which is clearly the most important thing to note here:

I don't know how Ernie would feel about the fact that people come from all over the country to visit his home, but at just over 1000 square feet, it's the coziest library I've ever been in. I think it's really neat how history ties us together, and it seems pretty profound to me that Ernie Pyle was so dedicated to immortalizing the men who risked life and limb to fight a war that spanned the entire globe.

Not to mention the fact that I got to put up a lot of staff picks and displays, which was hella fun. Here I am with Moby Dyke and Chainsaw Man (top) and some pictures of one of my favorite silly displays (bottom):

(when is the best time to come out of the closet? ...when the coast is queer!)

I also got to make our holiday card this year! So, to all you WWII nerds, fandom or otherwise...

[lumina-shade]

Idk if your requests are open if not respond to the Privately but So idk if you actually feel comfortable writing for Luffy I am looki for one piece x reader writers who have the requests open and came across you anyway I request takes place after the time skip where reading I ask Luffy if next year they can celebrate Ace with Luffy aka next year on the day of his death instead of feeling sad they want me make sure Luffy is happy so they will spend the entire day doing things would love like eating us favorite foods and doing things he would love

I'm totally fine writing this! I'll try the best of my abilities to write what you requested. If you dont like it I can make another. Also I'll make it a Luffyxreader thing

First ever ask!!!!

"Changing a tragic into comfort" Luffy x Fm!reader

You knew this day exact day your lover Luffy brother died. It had traumatized him so much that on the next year he sat in his room and barely ate, concerning you and the straw hats.

This year was the day that Ace died and when you woke up to hopefully to find Luffy next to you, you find him at your desk his hat covering his face and when you realized it he was asleep as you brought a blanket and tucked him gently.

Your head was clouded as you went onto deck watching over the railing the ocean. How couldn't you helped your lover the time he needed it the most. Were you just a bad lover and spouse.

You didn't keep track of time that Sanji called for dinner and Nami had to call you over. You could tell everyone was quiet today aswell. The death of the Fire Fist Ace and the traumatic Luffy had effect them as you guys all ate silently.

You step slowly as an idea clicked into your mind. Why don't you guys make him a small party a supporting comfort party with his favourite food items. It was the best idea you ever thought of till now as you spoke up from the quiet dinner hall.

"Please excuse me but I have an idea on how we can help Luffy." You said as you wiped your hands with a towel.

"Help Luffy?" Chopper asked as his little hands ate a loli Robin gave him.

"How can we help Luffy, we can't just being Ace back" Zoro said as he kept eating he wasn't wrong so Nami didn't hit him.

"I've heard of these things for people who have went through a traumatic event and losing sombody, it's called a..-" you tried to remember the title of this party.

"An offer party, where people who have gone through grieving often remember that it is the person who offered reassuring hope, the certainty that things will get better, who helped them make the gradual passage from pain to a renewed sense of life." Robin offered as you nooded.

Everyone seemed to listen up as you continued talking of a party and probably it might be f everyone in the crew. You know everyone in the crew as lost a loved one from a trainer to a father figure ect.

"I hope we could make a kind of party self care I believe where we get our favorite food, items, games, drinks ect and get comfort from each other."

"..." it was silent in the room it made you sweat thinking of their opinion and thoughts about this party thing.

"Y/n your idea is....SUUUUUUUPERRR" Franky says as he does his iconic pose."also can we have cola and bugers there too" he adds as you all laugh.

"And cottoncandy!" Chopper says as he jumps off Robin laps.

"The great captain Usopp declares he will want a grilled fish!"

"Yohohohoho! I would be delightful to have some curry aswell too!"

"I can pick Mikans from my garden!"

"I would enjoy sandwhiches"

"Onigiris"

"Mozuku seaweed"

"Guess I should get onto cooking then if I'll have to make all this food" Sanji chuckles a he goes to start cooking.

The dining room was as loud as it usually was which is more comforting then that dead silence a few minutes ago.

Nami ordered around for decorations. Zoro messed up. Usopp getting some of his fairytails books. Brook being out his guitar and getting it ready to place with. Franky using his robot skills and Jinbei helping Nami with decor. Chopper grabs some small royes he holds in his bag to show. Robin using her devil fruit to help around.

You smiled as you saw everyone getting ready as it remind you, you had to get Luffy as you trolled into his room.

"Luffy?" You said as you peeked your head through the door.

You see him staring at the window as you went next to him.

"Everything's alright?" You asked as you rubbed his head.

"..."

You sighed as you kept looking at him and brushing away fallen tears of his and plopped his strawhat back on.

"You know Ace wouldn't want you crying over him, he called you a crybaby when we were younger remember? He wound want you to accomplish your dreams to be the pirate king not let an incident stop you" you say as you rubbed his head.

You hear him sniffle as he wobbly answers.

"You’re ri-right I should keep going no m-mattered what. Fo-far Ace"

"Yes, yes for Ace" you said as you slowly hugged him.

".....now how about we head outside? I think everyone wants you back as a captain? A crew can’t be a crew without a captain."

"Okay." Luffy said as he stood up as you stood up aswell grabbing a handkerchief wiping his tears as you lead him outside.

When you lead him outside onto the deck you could see his face light up at the celebrations with tables of food decor and the crew "helping" eachother.

"Luffy!" Chopper squeaked as he ran towards Luffy.

"Hey your back!" Usopp ran towards Luffy as well.

More and more people in the crew went to Luffy talking to him, showing him items they hold dear or giving him food

You could see him smile wide as he went around talking with his crew.

Usopp had a crafting stand and some childhood fairytale books

Choper has some little toys that Robin joined playing with him.

Sanji showed some childhood snacks he would make for his mother.

Nami opened her garden to anyone who could pluck a tangerine which was rare.

Franky shad a show to show off his robot abilities and skill.

Brook played songs for the crew.

Jinbei played around like a father being dragged to every station.

Robin teached some of an old language she used to know.

Zoro slept.

And Luffy laughed as he sprung around and also ate half the food.

You let out a breath as you saw Luffy happy again and enjoying the time with the crew.Everyone seemed so happy and joyous even when something tragic happened that turned into something joyus, and comforting.

Luffy wrapped his rubber arms around you thanking you for helping him and also letting him have party that is for everyone on the crew.

You loved this crew so much you would shake the world for them to be happy.

You couldn't hope for a better crew than this.

Shoutout to petalpetal for being my first ask I hope I did this the way you wanted this I really enjoyed writing this very much!

[snippychicke]

Kinktober Week Two-- Garp

Prompt: Phone Sex

Warnings: these poor communication snails. Otherwise just a lot of dirty talk. Nsfw, 18+, just look at the title.

You sat at the library of the marine headquarters, mindlessly reading quite possibly the only piece of fiction in the entire place. The library was calm, quiet, with just a few soldiers as well as cadets milling about, looking through old journals and log books. Pieces of history to help them plan the future.

You sat at the library of the marine headquarters, mindlessly reading quite possibly the only piece of fiction in the entire place. The library was calm, quiet, with just a few soldiers as well as cadets milling about, looking through old journals and log books. Pieces of history to help them plan the future.

The quiet was interrupted by a chirping sound. Not the transponder snail on your desk, but the ear-slug in your purse.

Garp.

Your breath caught, he rarely ever reached out on the private line, usually happy using the official lines even if it was just to whine and tell you how bored he was, or how much he missed you. Often to everyone else's annoyance.

You quickly fished the small conch out of your bag as you stood and retreated into your office, sure whatever he was calling for was private. "Garp?"

"Heh. Wasn't sure you'd answer," Came your husband's reply. "You do still keep the little bugger with you."

"Of course I do!" You said, though relief wasn’t instantaneous. You knew Garp, he'd chit chat before admitting he had a massive hole where his stomach was. "Is everything okay?"

"Yeah, I was just missing you." There was a huskiness to his voice, making you frown. It wasn't pain. But… "Are you able to slip away and talk in private for a little bit?"

Something about the way he said it made you blush, as if he was right there whispering into your ear. "I'm in my office with the door closed."

"Perfect. Have you got a new desk yet?"

You blushed as you looked at your desk, covered with papers and books, it wasn't nearly as grand or large as the last one. Or the one before that. Or the one before that.

All broken by your husband during his… visits.

"I do. It's not very well made, I guess they got annoyed about how many we've broken."

His laughter echoed in your ear. "I can't wait to get back and break that one too. I'll push all those boring dusty reports to the side, throw you up there and start railing you. Whole place is going to hear me fuck my wife."

If your face was't red before it was now as you slumped in your chair. Throat became dry as you listened to his slightly-heavy breathing. "So that's why you called me."

His chuckles echoed down your spine, goosebumps pricking your skin. "I've been out to sea too long. Can you blame me for wanting to hear my wife's voice as I jacked myself off."

You could just imagine him in his quarters, sitting at his desk, legs splayed wide open, cock hard as the mast as he teased himself. After all, how many times had you seen it when you worked as his secretary? First on accident, then on purpose.

"Are you already touching yourself?" You purred, switching mental gears, and heard him groan in response.

"Barely. I wanted to see if I could get you at least breathing heavy first."

You relaxed back in your chair, teasing your nipple through your outfit. "What got you all hard and bothered, sailor?"

"All this goddamn paperwork made me remember the days you used to sit beneath my desk and reward me for doing my reports," He answered. "Talk about initiave when you have a pretty woman giving you head, knowing you get to fuck her wet pussy once you're finished."

Your breath hitched between his words and memories. Hearing him growl in frustration as he tore through his work as you lazily sucked him off. "It was the only way to get you to work," You teased, making him growl.

"You fucking loved it. You start loosening the buttons on your blouse, showing your cleavage as you delivered reports. Bright red lipstick. You were begging me to fuck that pretty mouth of yours."

"I was," You admitted with a sigh, now fully groping yourself. Eyes closed as you focused on his voice and memory. "But could you blame me? I was serving under the vice admiral. Those huge muscles, that smile. I swear your eyes smouldered when you’d eye-fuck me. And then that is cock of yours. So big and girthy. I felt like a cat in heat wanting to be fucked by it."

"I shouldn't have wasted time. I should have just bent you over my desk that first day and claimed you right then and there, instead of hoping you didn't notice me jacking off under my desk while watching you work."

Your pussy clenched at the thought, and your hand pulled up your skirt and brushed the fabric of your underwear. "That would have been some first impression. But I admit, it felt rather nice realizing I had the legendary Monkey D. Garp lusting over little ol' me."

"Turned you into a little brat," He moaned. You had no doubt he was touching himself now from the way he was breathing. Stroking his hard cock, head leaned back with eyes closed. It was such a beautiful image. "It was like you were testing your limits. Seeing how far you could push until I snapped."

"No. I wanted you to snap. I knew you wanted me. I knew the mess you were making beneath your desk--you're hardly quiet with those growls of yours. I wanted to hear those growls in my ear as you fucked me. Those hands gripping my hair."

That growl was cutting every breath now. "Fuck darling. Please tell me I got you a little wet."

"A little?" You moaned as you pushed your underwear aside and teased yourself. "Sir, I am dripping."

"That's my girl," He snarled. "Always so wet and willing. How long would it take for you to come for me?"

"I thought you just wanted my voice," You teased.

"Plans change. I wanna hear you come. I wanna hear you whine and moan as you fuck yourself. I want to hear you begging me to come there and fill your pussy up."

You whimpered as you started to finger fuck yourself, rolling your hips in time with your thrusts. "Please, promise me you will. As soon as you're back to headquarters."

"Oh yes," He panted. "As soon as this ship's close to shore I'm jumping overboard and running straight for you. Fuck everyone else, I'm going to find you first. I'm gonna carry you into that little office and eat that pussy until you're a sobbing mess, and then we're gonna break that damn desk as I fuck you. The whole base will know I'm back just to satisfy my wife."