#and now i feel the label has very little left to offer me

[fuckdamn]

everytime i’m faced with wild overt misogyny that’s just platformed like it’s nothing i remind myself that people don’t actually have to feel this way about women. men are fully capable of treating women like human beings and viewing them as such. “but socialization but male fantasies but patriatchy speaks through us even when we don’t recognize it” sure but actually regardless there exist men who are fundamentally not raging misogynists and they generally seem happier and better adjusted. misogyny to me isn’t disappointing because “oh i can’t believe Men, as an essentialized category of person, are like this” it’s disappointing because people make the choice to be like this. “it’s my biological imperative as a man to dominate you” okay well it’s my biological imperative as a freaky bitch to dominate you so what now. what biological imperative is making you comment “onlyfans detected opinion rejected” on every picture of any attractive woman. i think i will always be understood by most people as a woman and i’m learning to accept that and trying to like it but misogyny makes me feel very trapped of course. but misogyny is a choice. which means some people make the choice to be misogynistic which is profoundly frustrating. but many other people choose not to be actively misogynistic and i believe anyone could choose not to be actively misogynistic if they wanted. so it’s a whole thing

[exopelagic]

okay I severely misjudged spaghetti guy he’s actually just really cool

[timmydraker]

Tim isn’t the only queer person in the family, in fact he’s probably one of the last members to actually accept or even realise he wasn’t in the heteronormative category.

But he’s the most open about it.

After Janet died and Jack woke up, the man actually tried to do right by Tim and outwardly told him he was going to try be more understanding of his bisexual son. The two never became the father son duo Tim wanted, but he started to see Jack better, kind of like an uncle in a way.

It was enough for him to feel better making comments on male actors at movie nights, to joke about him being in the gay group of people who didn’t know a single thing about fashion and calling himself a stereotype breaker because of it.

Dick never wanted a label and Bruce was still in denial about his various male crushes, which was probably why Tim was in the situation he was in now.

Tim didn’t turn around to face Damian, if only because the younger had very purposefully sat directly behind him where he was sitting on the library floor.

He played over Damian’s question in his mind, “Why is it important to people that you Mary the opposite gender?” Because holy shit was that a big question.

Eventually Tim answered once Damian tensed in a tell tale way that he was about to run away, “Ignorance, mainly, but it’s all about what people are taught. It’s like how people believe in gods and supernatural things, it’s them hearing what others have said or not being able to understand something purely cause it doesn’t apply to them.”

A moment passes and the other doesn’t respond, so Tim adds a bit more.

“People struggle with change, especially when they are right something to be wrong or evil. Often they just get scared or feel threatened and just… don’t even try to learn. It’s okay to not know something, it’s when people refuse to learn that it’s bad.”

Tim thinks he feels Damian nod behind him but it’s hard to tell until the other lets out a tiny hum of affirmation.

When he doesn’t respond, Tim goes back to his tablet a little awkwardly and tries to figure out why his brother had asked such a question.

After around five minutes Damian finally speaks, his voice strangely timid, “If someone has… wrong opinions or has been taught something false, are they able to come back from it?”

That… wasn’t what Tim expected.

Did Damian know someone close to him that was being homophobic or had the League held hetero standards?

Knowing to tread carefully, Tim didn’t ask for confirmation on any of this lest he scare of his rather temperamental brother.

“Of course. Just look at my father, he was raised to hate people like me but his care for me made him try. He’s not the best at it, but he’s trying and that’s more than I ever expected. You can’t fix hate with love, you need understanding and sometimes you just need to offer the chance to try do so.”

Another lapse of silence, though this time shorter before Damian stood up. “Thank you, Drake.”

As the youngest Wayne left, Tim was left feeling both shock and pride at Damian saying a real, not forced ‘thank you’ after asking for help with something on his own.

Tim knew that Damian came to him because he was so loud about his acceptance of his own sexuality and his push for queer rights, but even months later he had no idea what pushed Damian to ask at all.

Either way he was happy to help his little brother.

[babextoken]

︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

mirror talk fake love

︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

adventures in skincare routines with your soft boyfriend, praisekink!vessel.

nswf • mdni • fem!reader • allusions to self-loathing and body dysmorphia • praise • vessel x you

vessel doesn’t know anything about skincare but he knows it makes you happy. well…buying skincare products makes you happy, but he’s been encouraging you to finally use them.

as your bend down to rinse your face, you hear him stalk into the bathroom, humming contentedly. you dry your face and smile at him as he considers your little collection of products. your eyes aimlessly wander over his naked torso and long legs clad in jogger style sweats.

he lifts a small bottle with orange liquid in it. “what does this do, love?”

“it’s a chemical exfoliant,” you say shrugging. “Gets all dead skin cells off without scratching me up.”

“I see, I see. And this?” he lifts a small jar of cream that clearly boasts overnight under eye miracles on the label, but honestly he’s playing dumb just to show interest and be near you.

“oh, that’s just under eye cream. For fine lines. Dark circles. Whatever.”

“But you don’t have those.”

“Exactly.”

Your quick answer elicits a smirk and a little closed mouth laugh. As you apply your moisturizer you, see him take in your form…head to every precious toe…but not without letting his eyes linger on your soft, beloved midsection. His arms snake around your waist as his toned chest and abs press against your back.

You lean back, feeling his smooth skin share its delicious warmth with you.

“does it bother you, Ves, that I feel like I need all this stuff?” you ask, gesturing vaguely to your assortment of products.

He lets out a soft huff; it’s almost like you’ve insulted him.

“tsk. why ever would that bother me? Darling…don’t you see? This shows me…”

his hands begin to trail up your waist…

“that you know how to take care of yourself. You have all the tools…”

his right hand gently caresses your chest, near your heart…

“you simply require the encouragement to use them. To show yourself love.”

He nuzzles against the shell of your ear and whispers huskily, “just look at you…look in the mirror.”

You look and instinctively your eyes meet his. You take in his features. His pouty lips. His short but angular jaw. He shakes his head softly and hisses gently…

“I said look at yourself, darling.”

And finally, you do. You consider yourself in your bralette, which does nothing but look pretty, offering no real support (Vessel approves of this wholeheartedly btw), and your old pj bottoms with some cute character on them. Your hair pulled back haphazardly with a fluffy headband.

“ok, I’m looking.” As if you’re expecting a lightning strike of inspiration and self-acceptance. You don’t look bad, but you don’t look your best. But somehow…that doesn’t matter. You feel an overwhelmingly pleasant sense of…neutrality.

“are you not glowing right now?” Vessel asks as his fingers delicately caress the column of your throat. You let out a soft gasp as his left hand gently grabs at the flesh of your waist and lower tummy. It is the very same flesh you prod at and attempt to hide…and the one that drives him to near insanity when he can only look but not touch. The same that has been marked with teasing bites and gentle bruises from his thumbs…holding you in place as he coaxes out the single prettiest sounds he’s had the pleasure of hearing…of producing.

“is this not the skin of someone who cares for themselves?” He continues, letting his lightly parted lips drag across your neck.

“Is this not the skin…of a good girl?”

[ask-the-royal-absol]

(@ask-the-fogbound-serpent) Vourison squinted as he stuck his head through the portal, eyes adjusting to the light of this realm. After his most recent… encounter, he’d become concerned and decided to take the chance and check up on the Absol. The Absol who was, apparently, not an Absol?... An illusion? Whatever, it didn't really matter. He just needed to make sure that they weren't mad and debauched, and from what he could see, he was right. Destino was fine, though it still didn't answer what he’d seen, who he’d spoken to. So many questions left unanswered…

For now, he focused on the present. Tilting his head towards Destino, he rumbled, “Hello again. I do hope you’ve been giving my advice some thought. In any case, this seems like a nice little food stand. Uh, not really sure what else to say honestly. Have you tried any of the food yet? I’m sure there are some dishes unique to this place you could give a try.” He’d really only come to ensure Destino was (relatively) mentally stable, so he was a bit awkward as he spoke, trying to bring up topics that may be relevant. Whether he was succeeding or not was to be seen.

Champ: W-what is-

Viridis: Serperior.

Champ: A serperior? But it's-

Viridis: Yes, huge. Have you never seen giant Pokémon before? Like, there are huge Pokémon here. Get over yourself. Perhaps try looking in a forest or something.

Champ: But I've been to almost every major forest in Naaturo and I've never seen a serperior that b-big.

Viridis: Listen, I don't think you should be judging the giant serperior right now. Perhaps just accept it and move on, alright?

Champ: R-right.

Viridis: This Serperior has a good point though. Food. I feel I could go for something. Give me the best you can offer.

Hope: Champ. I will pay for this but I feel Viridis here would really enjoy the Inferno Overdrive curry.

Champ: Are you sure? It's on our secret menu for a reason.

Hope: I am certain. Do it. I will give you extra.

Champ: If you say so.

Viridis: I don't even get to decide? Wow. Rude.

Hope: You said you wanted food and I come here often enough to know what's best.

Viridis: ...

*Champ knew exactly what the princess was doing. It was the spiciest meal he had ever made and had to be put onto a secret menu because of that. A single spoonful for those who couldn't handle spice was sure to burn them to a crisp. Still, he got to work, retrieving the deep red container with the very bold warning label from his ingredient's shelf. The pepper that he took out always had such a distinct shape to it.

Champ added four of these chopped up peppers to the mix he had going and let all the flavours combine together. He wasn't going to taste it but he knew he had made something taste bud damaging. It almost radiated a nuclear red energy. He placed the curry in a bowl along with some rice and brought it out to the leafeon. He saw an oh-so-smug smile had crept across Hope's face.*

Champ: One Inferno Overdrive curry. It's quite hot so be careful.

*Viridis took a single look at the curry. The smell of spice hit their nose immediately. It smelt really good but, judging by Hope's reaction, they weren’t too sure if they should eat this.*

Hope: This may be your only opportunity to try something that I often get. Unless you're a coward, that is. It's ok, I know that not everyone can handle a challenge like this.

Viridis: A challenge you say?

Hope: Maybe. Not like you'd be able to pass it however. I'm always able to eat this easily but I understand if you're too weak.

*Viridis confidently grabbed one of the wooden spoons that had been placed out for them. They weren't going to let Hope win that easily.*

Viridis: Hopey, you've got to understand that any challenge you give me is going to end up with me winning. I just so happen to be the best at everything.

Felix: I don't know about this.

Viridis: Buddy, relax. Whatever Hope throws at me is going to be a mild inconvenience at best. I'm sure this'll be fine.

*Placing the spoon into the bowl of food, they grabbed a generous portion and lifted it to their mouth. If they were an absol at this moment, their horn would be vibrating like crazy. Too bad leafeons don't have the disaster sense.

When Viridis felt the food hit their tongue, the spice immediately began its work, coating the inside of their mouth. It started off as a simple tingle, which made Viridis feel that this wasn't such a big deal. When the spice continued to grow however, things took a turn for the worst. Sweating. Pain. The need for something to drink. And that's when the most intense part hit them.*

*Hope fell off their chair in a fit of laughter. The way they confidently shoved the huge portion of curry into their mouth and the almost instant reaction to the spice made her day. She was never going to let Destino live this down.*

4/4

*Destino/Viridis, Felix and Hope are unavailable for questions. Champ is unavailable for questions.*

[heygirltimeformorning]

come ride on me (i mean camaraderie)

4.5 words, Explicit, Buddie

Summary: “Eddie, this isn’t -- casual for me,” Buck says finally, like he’s cutting the wires to a bomb. “I can’t -- I don’t do casual anymore.” He looks up at Eddie, open and bleeding, totally disarmed. He’s the most beautiful thing Eddie’s ever seen. Buck takes a breath, looks down, shakes his head. “I mean,” he says, “I can’t do casual with you.”

“Who,” Eddie asks, very quietly, “said anything about casual?”

*

Eddie has to confront the fact that he’s gay and not just confusing platonic feelings for sexual ones because he’s lonely on a Sunday afternoon when he walks into the locker room after a call where Buck had gotten up close and personal with the business end of an elephant, and Buck is naked, toweling his hair off, still grumbling about elephant shit and why the fuck animal control had a weight limit, and something about turkeys and llamas, but Eddie’s brain goes offline when he sees Buck’s dick.

Look, it’s just there. It’s not like he’d been looking, he’d just glanced over at Buck, and there it was. It’s not even the first time he’s seen Buck’s dick (the showers are communal, he’s seen everyone’s dicks, if they have them) but this is, like, full frontal; it’s the first time Eddie has come eye-to-eye, so to speak, with Buck’s dick, and look, Eddie is not a dick expert, but Buck’s dick is -- well, it’s not small, even soft, not even close, and Eddie yelps, like one of those little rat dogs getting stepped on, and leaves the locker room immediately, which is totally normal behavior after seeing his best friend’s dick.

“Eddie?” Buck pokes his head around the door of the locker room, brows knit together in concern.

“Fine, I’m fine,” Eddie says, in response to the question on Buck’s face. “I’m fine. Just -- uh -- tripped over - over - something. I’m fine.”

Eddie is not fine. He hobbles through the rest of the shift -- there isn’t much left of it -- and then he goes home, avoiding Buck’s offer of post-shift food, which is their ritual, now that Chris is in Texas.

The problem is, Eddie can’t stop thinking about it. Well, that isn’t the problem, but the problem is that when he thinks about Buck’s dick, he has other thoughts. It would be one thing if he just thought about Buck’s dick like wow good for him, but Eddie wants to see it again. He wants. He wants, that’s the problem. Frank would have a field day with that, but Eddie is not sharing this with Frank (or anyone). He’s been on the cusp of a gay realization for -- well, awhile. It’s been coming - somewhere between the cheerleader with the broken pelvis, and confusing his hatred of Tommy for homophobia when it was jealousy - Eddie might have been in the closet, but he wasn’t stupid. The problem wasn’t that he was (apparently) gay, or bi or whatever (he hasn’t had time to experiment with labels -- or, rather, he’s had nothing but time to experiment with labels, but it doesn’t interest him that much), the problem was that his not-straight feelings were, apparently, manifesting as lust about his best friend. Realizing he’s gay? Fine. Realizing he wants to get up close and personal with a penis? Also fine. Realizing the penis he wants to get up close and personal with is one specific penis -- the one attached to his best friend? Very much not fine.

finish reading on AO3 :)

[sleepynoons]

Unconditional

Were you worthy of someone as irreplaceable as him?

ooc!gojo x f!reader, sfw

word count: ~2,300

cw: explicit language, body image issues + insecurities, anxiety attacks

notes: wrote this before gojo got... uh... :)) i also wrote this last year when i had a very different understanding of gojo's character than i do now (cross-posted from my ao3), which is why i labeled him as ooc. anyway, this is my love letter to those who struggle with feeling mediocre and insignificant and unneeded.

TO BE clear, it wasn’t like Satoru was never explicit in his affections for you. In fact, it was the entire opposite – he would plant a disgustingly wet kiss on your forehead every morning, dog whistle when you changed for work, and treat your body like a temple as soon as dusk hit. He drowned you in praises whenever he could, but perhaps that was the issue.

Were you worthy of someone as irreplaceable as him? Gojo Satoru may stroke his own ego by calling himself “the blessed one,” but it wasn't like he was wrong for it. In the jujutsu world, he was the industry’s ultimate weapon. Outside, he was a very striking and sexy man – tall, lean, born with the bluest eyes –, and while he was annoying, grating, and reckless at times, he had awareness and compassion that made him personable and trustworthy.

As a matter of fact, that’s what made you take the leap to become his. You're no jujutsu sorcerer, and you learned just how dangerous Satoru’s job was before you even began to develop feelings for him. Yet the self-assuredness he radiated when he spoke convinced you to trust him. You wouldn’t be able to lose him, even if you wanted to – he is the strongest, and he will continue to be so until he dies.

On the other hand, you were… well, you were just you. You weren’t ugly, but you weren’t stunning or gorgeous. You were neither thin nor thick, and you weren’t especially gifted in any particular intellectual matter. At times, you think, had you been specially endowed or gifted in one way or another, you wouldn’t have this internal turmoil. But in reality, your mediocrity was all you had to work with, and you’re not sure if Satoru’s love for you will last once he realizes that you have little to offer him.

“Hon, you’ve been in there for a long time! Is everything alright?” Satoru’s voice and his knocks on the fitting room door break you out of your trance.

You’ve been standing in front of the mirror in the same dress for a few minutes now. The way the dress sits on your frame dissatisfies you, and you realize that that was probably what triggered your spiraling in the first place.

You quickly respond. “Sorry for making you wait! Let me get changed.”

Right. There was no need to get into your head. It doesn’t matter if you were dating Satoru or someone else; relationships, even marriages and years-long friendships, are fragile in nature, so the only thing you should focus on is appreciating the present.

You unlock the door and let Satoru help you gather your things.

“Anything catch your eye?” he asks as he slips your bag onto his shoulder.

“Not really,” you say. “Let me return the clothes first. Meet you at the store entrance?”

He pouts and peers at you over his sunglasses. “Not even the dress I picked out for you?”

Ah, there was more to it. It was because Satoru had specifically picked out that dress that made you hope it would suit you. You smile apologetically at him before heading out.

The car ride is quiet, aside from the occasional hum that Satoru lets out as the speakers play your playlist. You would have felt much more relaxed, too, had you not noticed your boyfriend’s intense gaze on you. He has been looking at you since the two of you left the store, and while you know he has no bad intentions, his stare is only getting more pointed by the second. To any onlooker, they would think you're overthinking it – and maybe they’re right. After all, Satoru’s posture is still casual, and it’s not like there’s electrifying tension in the air. But still, you have been with Satoru for two years now, and your gut is telling you that if you looked back at him right now, it would only prompt a conversation that you weren’t ready to have. So you don’t return his gaze and, instead, pretend to be distracted by the streetlights and waning moon.

It isn’t until the two of you return to your shared home that he breaks the silence.

“What’s on your mind, hon?” His voice is gentle, laced with concern, gentleness, and curiosity. His tone is coaxing you to be truthful, but a discomfort sits at the bottom of your stomach that holds you back.

You don’t say anything as you take off your shoes, aligning your heels next to each other on the shoe rack. It’s only when you stand back up that you say, “I… I’m not sure if I want to talk right now, Satoru."

He stills behind you, a second longer to tell you that he’s thinking, before he gives you a brief back hug.

“That’s alright. Take your time,” he whispers. You lean into his touch before he pulls away.

Then, he begins to whistle and muses on about dinner as he strides towards the living room. All you can do is follow as you shake your head and chuckle under your breath.

The evening is spent with warm food and a drama playing in the background. The two of you cackle at the silly antics of the characters (“I could probably bench press the antagonist,” Satoru groans) and talk about how the jujutsu students are doing (“You should find some time to let the first- and second-years actually enjoy the amusement park,” you chide).

However, the insecurities never quite leave you. When your boyfriend moves to wrap his arm around your waist, you immediately lean forward, away to grab the remote control to turn the TV volume up. When he tries again – this time, resting his hand over your knee – you switch your posture and adjust the cushion in your lap. You hear Satoru grumble with displeasure but elect to ignore it.

Eventually, after several more attempts of trying to initiate any semblance of physical affection, Satoru finally groans aloud. He reaches over you to grab the remote, turns the TV off, and takes your face in his hands. Now you’re forced to look at him, and without his sunglasses to mute the blue of his eyes, his stare sends a jolting shock through your body.

“Hon, I know I said I would be patient, but this is getting out of hand.” You squirm a little, but his hands are sturdy in cupping your face in place. Like a child, you simply huff and close your eyes. “Oh, c’mon! At least look at me!”

You huff again. “No, I don’t want to.”

It’s silent.

Another moment passes, and Satoru lets go of your face.

It’s too silent.

You wonder if Satoru has teleported away. You’re sure he’s playing with you, but what if he just… gave up? Just like that? Maybe something just clicked in his brain, and he left because he realized you were too naïve and boring and normal for him?

You’re stubborn, but the urge to know overwhelms you and you open your eyes.

He’s still there. Satoru immediately falls back, laughing and rolling on the floor.

You grimace. “I wish you would be that quiet on a daily basis.”

“Oh, no, you don’t!” Satoru’s laughing so hard, he’s beginning to clutch his sides.

You roll your eyes and begin to stand up. You feel a hand clutch at your wrist, and you glare down at the man(child). “I’m going to clean things up here while you waste away on the floor.”

“That was hilarious!”

“The only thing that’s hilarious here is your shit sense of humor.”

You don’t resist as Satoru pulls you down, wrapping you in his arms as you both lie on the floor. He’s still chuckling, but he’s turned his attention towards soothing you, running one of his hands through your hair and fiddling with the hem of your shirt with the other.

“Are you ready to tell me what’s on your mind?”

You hum, your smile melting off. You bury your face in the crook of his neck and mutter, “Why do you love me, Satoru?”

“I don’t know, there’s too much to love.”

“Cheesy. Bad answer. Give me actual reasons.”

“Where’s this coming from?”

You let out a strangled, muffled cry. “I asked first, Satoru.”

“I'll only answer if you give me context.”

You peer at him, and you see a patient and loving look settle on his face. You don’t want his expression to turn into one of hurt.

Finally, you admit, “I don’t know, I just don’t really get why… you’d date someone like me. It’s not like I’m useful in any way.”

Satoru’s hands continue their motions. He’s unfazed, almost as if he expected you to say this.

“Do you think people love others based on their utility?” he asks.

“To a certain degree, yeah.”

“Okay, so you’re saying you don’t add any value to my life?”

“Well, I hope I do. I just… don’t really know what that value is exactly.” Satoru sighs before lifting both of you into a sitting position, though you’re mostly in his lap. “Listen, I can’t speak for others, but I know I don’t love others just because they do things for me. Hell, Megumi was literally a child when I took him in. What could he have possibly done for me?”

“Be an adorable, chubby baby?”

Your boyfriend rolls his eyes. “Not the point.” You acquiesce. “All I’m trying to say is that our relationship isn’t transactional.”

You huff again. You know you’re acting childish. “But that doesn’t explain why you chose me. Like I’m not special, Satoru. I feel so… unworthy.”

Satoru’s face immediately drops, and he’s holding you tightly. “Why do you feel that way, hon? Am I not loving you properly?”

“No, not at all!” you say. “Satoru, no, sweetheart, this has nothing to do with you. You’re just so good to me. I-I don’t know what I did to deserve all of this.”

You sigh and slump into his hold. Tears are prickling in your eyes, and you feel your face heat up as you overwhelm with a discouraging mixture of shame, embarrassment, and guilt. Yet you hold back because this conversation is already as humiliating as it can get.

“But that’s what I’m trying to say, hon.” Satoru is cradling your head as he speaks to you softly. “My love for you is unconditional. I love you because I am in love with you.”

You shake your head and ask, “In love with what? Mediocrity?” Satoru takes a sharp inhale.

You continue, “Satoru, I’m no model. I’m also not a genius. I’m not particularly talented in anything or especially beautiful, and I’m not even a part of your world. Literally, what is there to love –”

“No one else has loved me for who I am until I met you.”

You look up at him quizzically.

“Listen.” Satoru readjusts your position so that the two of you are sitting facing each other. This time, he's not looking at you. Rather, he looks down at where your knees touch and interlaces your hands with his. “To the higher-ups, I am just the pillar that maintains balance. To the kids, I’m their mentor. And to the others, I’m just a colleague. Not a single person in my life has loved me so deeply before.”

“But what if you had met someone before me who could love you just as deeply, if not more?”

“But I didn’t. And that’s all that matters now.” Satoru takes your hands fully into his. Staring straight at you, he says, “You took me in, knowing all the dangers that come with being my partner. Maybe in another timeline, another universe, you aren’t my lover. But in this one, you are, and I have no intention of letting you go.” He pauses for a brief second before muttering, voice cracking, “I can’t lose you.”

The tears you had held back come streaming down, and you have to bite down on your lip to stifle your sobs. You manage to whisper back, “I can’t lose you, either.”

Satoru kisses you once, twice, thrice. Gentle touches on your lips, only filled with adoration and longing. He continues to press his lips around your face, mumbling praises between each of his actions.

“Beautiful.” Kiss on your forehead. “Compassionate.” Kiss on your nose. “Thoughtful.” Kiss on your temple. “Bright.” And his flurry of kisses and compliments don’t stop until you stop crying. Eventually, you start giggling at the light, feathery sensation, and when he is about to mutter something else, you take the chance to kiss him back.

It’s nothing sensual or breathtaking – just your lips slotted firmly and perfectly against his. But you feel so grounded and content, and the insecurities and anxiety that have been bothering you all day finally fade away. When you break away, Satoru gleams at you with pride and admiration, and you beam back at him.

“Feeling better?” he asks. You nod fervently before giving your boyfriend another quick peck.

“Thank you. Always,” you say.

His eyes crinkle at the sight of you happy and energetic again. “Of course, hon. Anything for you.”

It’s difficult to not fluster at his words sometimes, so you turn away and hide your face behind your arm, denying him any satisfaction.

Satoru whines and says, “Hey, lemme see you. I deserve it for being such a good boyfriend.”

You respond cheekily, “I’ll only admit that you’ve been a good boyfriend if you also wash the dishes.”

“Hey, that’s not fair!”

You giggle as you slide off the couch. “I’ll leave it to you!”

[vshiftsss]

asks for saia's ask game!!

⊹ 🔮 PROPHECY — ✶ do you have a special role or purpose in your dr world?

⊹ 🛍️ TREAT YOURSELF — ✶ what’s the coolest thing you own in your dr that you don’t have in your cr?

⊹ 💔 GHOST OF THE PAST — ✶ have you experienced loss or heartbreak in your dr?

⊹ 💭 UNWRITTEN PAGES — ✶ if your dr had a book, what is a chapter title that describes your journey?

SMALL TOWN DR Q&A 2 - (ASK GAME)

woo! row's back again! thank you for the ask fren <3

🔮 - PROPHECY...

i wouldn't say i have a special role, per se, but everyone knows me as either the librarian or the substitute teacher in our town. eventually, once i start helping simon with the case he keeps coming back to the library for, the town starts to see me in a different light. so i'm not sure if i have a special role or purpose, but i try my best to help as much as i can!

🛍️ - TREAT YOURSELF...

the coolest thing i own is definitely the family piano. it's been passed down from generation to generation, and in our town, it was initially used by my great grandmother who was a famous musician in her time. she collaborated with many legends, and we even have some signatures on the lid! some of the keys still have faded labels on them from when i was learning how to play. as for the piano itself, it is a beautiful chestnut color with a glossy finish. very pretty! i play it often, and simon tries his best occasionally.

💔 - GHOST OF THE PAST...

the first thing that comes to mind is when my mom first told me she was leaving to live in another state. there was a hospital offering her a higher position than the one she had in our town, so she took that opportunity immediately. however, she told me (i was 19 around this time; just got my job at the library and i was enrolled in community college) that i would need to take care of the house and my sister. of course, she would send financial support, but i couldn't handle the fact that my mom, the sole figure i looked to for guidance and comfort, was leaving. in such a short time, as well.

after she left, the house didn't feel the same. aviva (my sister) seemed as if she was mostly fine, but she could tell i was feeling the pressure from the sudden shift in authority. but, we worked around it, and now we're closer than ever. now that i'm financially stable on my own, my relationship with my mom has weakened, mainly because she's so busy and, frankly, doesn't try to reach out as much as she claims. but we move!

💭 - UNWRITTEN PAGES...

holy shit. a chapter title? you would think i could come up with those, but if i'm being frank...i haven't titled a chapter since i was in fifth grade. erm. awkward! i can try though.

i think mine would be, "she's trying. she's succeeding. and finally, she's opening her eyes."

this dr is just a fun small town, but it's also a place where everyone already knows you. whether it's as the librarian that's all easy smiles and playful banter, or as the oldest sister of two who tries too hard just for no one to see her. when you get a new chance to prove yourself as someone who is worthy of being proud of, you take it. and that opportunity is simon asking me to help with his case.

i learn a lot of things, i make mistakes, but most of all, people see me. people see the woman i can be and what i can do for others. i finally feel as if i made an impact, and that i did something that benefits everyone. even if my mom doesn't see me, other people do. simon does. my friends do. aviva does. and at the end of my journey, i finally notice that. shit like that changes mindset, and it will in my dr!

whoops, got a little deep there...lol! my bad.

END OF POST - HAPPY SHIFTING!

divider.

tags...@visualcve @julianasversee @miaojune @avelineshifts

ask game :)

[dizzycoffee]

Oh my gosh I really love you Vox x Angel Reader!

Can we please get a part 2 of it but Valentino tries to take Reader away?

(Because you can't have a nice cup of tea without any drama 😏)

— Vox / Angel!Fem!Reader; Headcanons Part 3

it's a little shorter from the rest, but here you go !!

for the first post, click here ! for the second post, click here !

*･゜ﾟ･*:.｡..｡.:*･ HEADCANONS ･*:.｡..｡.:*･゜ﾟ･*

Obviously, Vox put all his efforts in ensuring you and the other Vees DIDN'T meet

So when he comes to his private bedroom and finds Valentino and you pleasantly talking, Hell went on a blackout for good minute

"Voxy! How come you didn't tell me you were keeping this cute little angel?" Valentino's voice made Vox freeze for a brief moment, watching as the moth demon smirked up at him. Vox couldn't help but follow Valentino's hand, which was placed around your waist. Vox felt like tearing Valentino apart right then and there.

After you left for the day, Vox made it very clear that he didn't want Valentino around you

To which Val replies "But how could I do that when she's just so appetizing?"

Vox feels like he's going to lose it

At first, he feels like maybe Val is just teasing him. He thinks to himself, Val isn't that fucking stupid to actually go against his commands, not when Vox has been compliant with Val's own rules in his sets, right??

Oh boy was he WRONG

Those private moments the two of you shared became a trio hanging session

Vox HATED having to share moments with Val, especially since he hardly considered preserving your pureness

Val constantly making dirty jokes or offering you "a job" as "a star" made Vox sick to his stomach

You reassure him that you've heard worse by a certain angel coughcough adam but it still pisses Vox off to no ends

What's worse is that Vox knows that had he established a relationship for the two of you sooner, maybe Val would've had better decency

What REALLY drives Vox to become openly possessive was when Val had the balls to actually take the initiative with you

"Let's go on a date, pretty angel. I'll be sure to make your time worthwhile!"

Before you could reply, you felt Vox stiffen behind you. His claws dug into your waist as he pulled you back into his chest. You didn't turn to look, but you were sure he had a death glare in his eyes as he said, "Sorry to disappoint, but she's my girlfriend. Now, do you mind fucking off? We've got our own date to get to."

After Val had "fucked off," Vox and you FINALLY put a label on the relationship

He confessed that the simple idea of you being with anyone but him made his blood boil

He wants you all for himself, as selfish as it is

You tell him it's okay to be selfish sometimes, because as pure as you are, you selfishly want him just as much

Pulling you into a warm embrace, your wings instinctively around him, he also confessed that he loves you <3

[chaoticisis]

I feel like I am going to get a lot of hate for this, but I don't care anymore at this point. The needs to addressed.

I believe there's a lot of toxic positivity in the interactive fiction community. Specifically, text based IFs.

Everytime, I see someone offer criticism, it gets shot down immediately and ends with them being labelled as a hater and downvoted to oblivion on the hosted games reddit. There's nothing wrong with disliking some elements in a story and being vocal about it as long as you are not harassing the author. You should not have to praise the book in order to make your opinion matter.

Yes, a lot of people misuse the anon feature. There are comments people have made towards authors and made assumptions about them that have left me reeling but not every comment has to be an attack. When someone says "oh i didn't like ABC book because of XYZ in it. I wish it was YXZ instead, I would have enjoyed it more then." There is always someone in their replies with the "if you don't like it so much, why are you even reading it. Maybe don't tell the author what to write?"

Here's the thing :

Wishing for something to have been a certain way doesn't mean it should have been that way alone. It means the poster would have enjoyed the work more if it was written that way, it doesn't necessarily mean, they are imposing their opinion on the author.

Also, why is our immediate response to any kind of criticism "yeah, well maybe its not for you, stop reading it" because why should they?? Maybe there's a lot of things they like about the book? Maybe they are interested in the setting? The premise? They are actually looking forward to how the story will develop or are at least curious about in which direction the author is going to take it? Maybe they love the relationships in it?

I recently came across the post of an author making fun of people who has a discord server to "hate" on IFs. Now, I don't know much about this so I could very well be in the wrong here— if that's the case then I sincerely applogise in advance, but I am assuming there are no authors in the server. If that is the case, then I don't see how that is an issue? We watch shows. We get excited about them. We want to have someone to talk about it. People make edits of it. We read things. We get frustrated about it. We need a space to vent about how it made is feel. It's exactly that.

It's actually a great thing in my opinion. It's a discord server so these haters won't be in the authors' faces— unless you deliberately join the server, in which you don't have anyone else to blame but yourself. It's a discord server, not a place you can go looking for constructive criticism. I remember looking at the post and thinking how incredibly rude it was when the author told those people to get a job. (Especially the way they worded it) Because would you say the same to the people in your inbox? Or the people taking the time out of their life and drawing art for your characters because they loved your work? Or the ones making memes? Or the ones writing those extremely lengthy posts on reddit about an IF? Or those who join fan based discord servers of IFs to gush over them? No, you wouldn't. Because that benefits you. When you post something online it is bound to receive both negative and positive reaction. Collen hoover is a best selling author, yet a lot of people dislike her work.

However, I do understand that IF authors are more accessible and hence, have to face harassment by these people hiding behind anon. I have defended authors myself. It does get out of hand sometimes. But still.

I came across this discussion on the forum about how people feel about ROs potentially getting into a relationship with an NPC. Someone said how they don't like it because they read books to escape reality. They are not a fan of realism in fiction. For them, fiction is fiction. Now, personally, I don't care about it. I like me a little realism but I understand. At the end of the day, it's upto the author and i will just have to look for books that align with my tastes. But somebody dismissed this person by saying how "its just words on the paper" and how its weird for them to be jealous.

No. It's not just words on a paper. It's so much more than that. People read books, people get attached. We cry when our favourite character dies or gets injured. We get angry when we see a character we dislike show up on screen. Both are valid. Books are there to make us feel. I don't think any author would like it if they wrote something and it didn't make anyone feel any kind of way.

[spookypete-94]

Dark Horse-Fight or Flight

Chapter 6

PricexFem!reader

PriceXFem!reader

Reader is a single mother, working double shifts at a restaurant. Father of the child starts to become a problem while reader is at work and Price offers a solution. Slight age gap between reader around 25 and Price around 35. Will be around 3-5 Chapters once finished (Probably will be more about 6-8 chapters total now)

Sorry its been a bit for an update. Finally moving up in shifts and got to bid days is leaving me trying to find time to write. 7 months pregnant and tired all the time too isn't exactly helping.

This one might get a little dark (drowning/death/language), coming to wrap this one up. Might be two more chapters left.

John's activities went on for a few hours into the night. Starting in the living room and ending in the bedroom. Somehow, through all the activity, you awoke still on your schedule. The morning light beamed in golden rays next to the side of the bed. Yesterday was so extraordinary, but here it returned to normal routine once more.

John laid next to you, on his stomach arms folded underneath a pillow holding it close. His legs still strewn in with yours. Carefully pulling them out of the entangled snare, you slipped away quietly heading to the bathroom to get showered for work. Today, you would talk to Kate about transitioning to part time... for the first time in your life.

Part time...Only partly at work. More time at home. More time with Abel. More time with your husband.

The shower curtain being pulled back startled you, making jump dropping the bottle of soap on to the bottom of the shower.

"Ya' tellin' me ya wan' somethin'... or...," John's morning voice rumbled from his chest, making a slight innuendo as he bent down to pick up your soap. On the way back up he greeted you with raised eyebrows and a cheeky smile.

"Ha-ha," you announced sarcastically. "Forgive me, I don't have many that join me in the shower."

"Better start gettin' used to it, takin' any chance I get. Could of woke me, would of joined you sooner." He had taken your loofah and dumped soap on it, starting to wash you.

"You were sleeping."

"Want to take you on a honeymoon sometime, feels strange not doing something after were married. Untraditional." He said kissing the back of your wet head.

"No offense, I'm grateful but this whole thing was kind of untraditional."

"Do you regret it?"

Instantly you shook your head. "No," quickly escaped your mouth. The regret or hesitance better labeled left you sometime yesterday. This was no doubt now in your head the best choice. It's always been you and Abel. Part of you longed for someone else to fill that void... But Abel's father was never qualified to fill that position. John's over qualified.

Upon reward for your eager answer, John's hand slipped off the loofah and further down your body.

***********************************

John and Abel joined you at your morning shift for breakfast. Both sitting at the counter while you waited tables. John had already asked Abel if he wanted to join him and the others for a fishing trip for the weekend.

The young boy excited to partake with something in the outdoors. Abel's father had always wanted him to stay indoors with him and played video games, which was fine. But you had noticed that Abel's soul often craved more. He was a boy who had a hard time sitting still for long periods of time. Maybe this was the answer he needed. All very clearly over 6'0 ft and pure man and willing to teach.

If you'd of asked yourself a few days ago, never in a million years would of sent your son off with someone you had just got to know. However there was something about John that made you trust him. You would give him your soul... bound to your bone and blood.

It didn't take long for John's strays to find and join him. Taking a seat further extending your counter. It really was a sight to see, four very large, very built, very dangerous men... and there sat little Abel. It would of been worth a picture to you if you had time to take one.

"Wanna wish you an' the Captain a Congrats," the one you had learned as Gaz started off.

"Congrats indeed, he's lucky he fund ya firs', bonnie lass," "Soap" joined in. "Any o' us would of made you a wife jus' as quick."

Very quickly you dropped their plates in front of them, your cheeks burning red and walking away. It made laughter erupt from Soap, while John side eyed him carefully.

"Easy Mactavish, can't scare the help away." Ghost, the giant always in black said, giving a slight pop on the back of Soap's head.

"I don' mean nuthin' by it, just happy for the Cap' is all."

John's watchful eye dropped back to yours were he sighed.

"Sorry love, why I meant we don't feed the strays. They don't deserve it."

All of them groaned loudly at his words.

"We haven't even left yet, and you're already making him mad." Gaz said elbowing Soap.

Ghost had rolled his mask halfway up his face to eat his breakfast making Abel lean forward to look at him. John had told you enough that Ghost wears the mask to stay anonymous to people having "died" years ago.

"Abel..." your voice warned, trying to keep him from being rude. Ghost's eyes glanced down towards Abel, as if asking him what he wanted.

"Yes?" Ghost acknowledged him.

"What do you look like under there?" His quiet shy voice asked.

"An ugly mug," Soap answered long before anyone else could. Again the laughter echoed in the diner.

"Quite the loud bunch," Kate said brushing past you grabbing a coffee pot.

"Won' be here long, Kate." John said trying to curb her building anxiety.

"Would like to talk to you later today." Your courage finally building having a second to talk to her.

"Not quitting on me are you?" Blunt. Straight to the point. Kate was never one for beating around the bush.

"No... not exactly."

"After the rush. We'll sit down take break and you can tell me what's going on."

***********************************

Little arms wrapped around our waist, Abel buried his face in your abdomen.

"Love you, mom."

Stroking his hair back you leaned down, inhaling his hair.

"Always love you more."

Just like that he ripped himself from you, running to the vehicle they had all packed to go on their little "trip". Sure, Abel spent weekends away from you with his dad before... but this felt different. You wanted to bond as a family, but it was important that Abel and John bond together as well.

"Gonna be alright, love?" John asked arm wrapping around your shoulders and pulling him into you.

"Yeah..." you muttered into his shoulder, laying your head against it.

"Just one night, we will be back tomorrow before noon."

It was like he knew you through and through. Like he was looking past glass and could see what was making you tick.

"Just one night." You mirrored back at him, trying to convince yourself.

"Wouldn' even worry about it, if I hadn't of promised the others when we got back."

"You need your time too, John."

"And so do you, relax at home for once." He said rubbing your arms and kissing your forehead before tilting your head up and planting a gentle kiss on you.

"Besides, had you busy enough for the past couple of days, you could use the break." The same smirky smile and attitude from your shower together returning. It made you pat his chest lightly with a little slap, your way of telling him to get going. It made him chuckle, the rumble you have come to love echo from him.

You waved goodbye to all of them, Abel's hand slipping out the window at to you. They disappeared turning a corner to go out of town, and there you stood all on your own.

Going back inside, there sat Kate, two pieces of pie and two cups of coffee. The sugar and caffeine trick to get you ready to the next "rush" as she calls them.

"Probably shouldn't let you have coffee, knowing you could be pregnant." She teased, making you roll your eyes.

"Haven't I been picked on enough today?" Referring to the earlier banter.

"Come on, sit down and tell me what's going on." She said still laughing quietly, patting the seat next to her.

***********************************

The walk home was quiet, peaceful. Kate had taken the information well, telling you she had started to expect it and was honestly happy for you. This whole feeling was alien to you, spending most of your life struggling for the things you had or being in fight and flight mode.

Tonight, the first night you had to yourself in ages. The possibilities were endless, but still it seemed your heart wanted one thing. To be with Abel. He needs this you reminded yourself. You needed this too.

Stopping at the store on your way home, buying a bottle of wine to pair with your burger and fries you had brought home for dinner. You glanced at it while pulling it out of the brown bag the store had hidden in it. Still trying to be a responsible adult, working on your daily chores, you then ran a bath and ate your supper.

Glass of wine in one hand, you slipped into the bath, resting the bottle next to you on the table. near by. The water was hot, scalding your skin, but it felt so nice to be engulfed by it all while you soaked. Propping your legs up on the tub, toes out of the water, you sent John a picture. Trying to communicate without being over bearing, missing them both still.

"You just send my kid out with random people?" A voice asked coming from the open bathroom door making you jump and look over.

There stood your ex... impending doom in the doorway.

"What are you doing here??" You asked sitting up, fear rising within.

He bolted to you, one hand at your neck pushing you under. The water was even hotter inside your body. Quickly filling your lungs, air leaving your cells.

You tried to scream, instead it left your body in large ripples floating to the top were they popped. Useless, it was futile. The feeling of fight or flight returning once more... and you couldn't leave. You have to fight.

Wrapping a hand around his arm, you grabbed and squeeze digging trying hard to push him back.

There was recoil as he brought you back up from the water.

"Fuckin' dumb bitch!"

Heavy large waves of water pouring off of you and back into the tub made it hard to hear, but he was close and loud enough you could make out every syllable and vowel. Rage and hatred dripping off his words.

"You know what I'm gonna do?" He dangerously asked. The tone matter of fact. Finally striking you as rhetorical. He wasn't worried about what he was going to do, as much as he was making you pay.

"I'm going to hold you underwater, let them think you drown. I'm going to clean up the water, refill the tub. You're already drinking, making this easy for me." he said gesturing to the broken wine glass on the floor. "You'll be dead and look like a drunk. I'll have Abel full custody then. What a terrible mother," mockingly.

There he forced you back into the water and down to the bottom.

"No!" You shrieked trying to resist, still unable to.

The battle started all over again... The blazing feeling of the water. Who knew water could burn? Your tongue was heavy in your mouth, the urge to get up leaving you.

Splashes and splashes of your spent oxygen rising to the top, towards your attacker. Your last gift to him.

Fight or flight.

War. This means war and death and you were picking yourself, tired of bowing to this man.

Your hand reached up pulling up on the tub, reaching, passing, bucking. Finally finding the bottle you gripped it, swinging as hard as you could. It smacked him, making him let go. Breaking, wine mixing with the matter on the floor, blood soon following. A large gash was on the side of his head, but he was still conscious. His hands reaching for you again, making you strike him once more. More of the bottle breaking, shards flying out and into his flesh.

Down he went, body lying on the floor. His face was hacked, skin and muscle torn down from his head to neck and into his shoulder.

It looked like an animal was let lose, like a bear had mauled him. The bathroom an entire wreck. Eyes wide as you glanced up in the mirror. Your skin red from where he had a grip of you.

Where was your phone?? You needed to call. You needed to call him now.

Finally you found it near the tub on the floor, covered in water. Reaching for it you tried to wipe the excess off... praying and hoping it worked. By the grace of gods, it somehow lit up. A new text message from John blessed the screen.

Looks nice love. Meaning the picture you had sent before the attack took place. Oh, how ironic.

Using it as a shortcut, you called him. Instantly he knew from how you were breathing something had happened.

"Love?? What's wrong?"

"He broke in." A sob, loud breaking your words after.

"He still there?" Hastily asked.

"Yes... but."

"But what dear?"

"I...he's..Hes dead!" you wept.

"I'm comin'."

"No, Abel will know somethings wrong." It was short and choppy. Relayed in away that you hoped he understood. You didn't want Abel to see this. You didn't want him to know you had killed his father.

John was quiet for a moment trying to come up with a solution.

"I'm sending, Simon." His next trusted, next in lead to come help you.

There, John listened to you cry, trying to motivate you to get dressed before Simon got there.

Finally, you had enough nerve to get out, finding simple clothes. A T-shirt of Johns on and a pair of shorts. Huffing the material of his trying to find peace and the ability to stay sane...A knock at the door breaking your temporary peace, bringing you back to your bloody reality.

Carefully you opened your door a crack, brown eyes behind smudged eye black and mask waiting for you.

"You ok?" he asked waiting for you to open the door fully.

Breaking the threshold, you pushed the door open for him. Simon stepped full foot in, scanning his eyes over you looking for injuries before turning the way you were pointing.

You followed him, but him stopping in the living room made you confused. Looking around there you saw curtains billowing. Simon approached it pulling them back looking through the window, the screen down on the ground.

Your ex had popped it off and crawled through...

"How he got in without you knowin'," Simon said dropping the curtains heading back towards the bathroom.

"Steamin' Jesus," His voice quiet. Harsh whisper as he looked at the literal blood bath in front of him.

"Put up quite the fight didn' ya'?" He asked looking over his shoulder sympathy in his voice.

"I tried."

Simon grabbed a towel placing it over the mixture of blood, wine, water and glass, sliding it away. Pushing his way through the debris to get to him.

Both of you jumped and startled as your ex groaned on the floor.

"Did you make sure he was dead?" Simon asked, almost like he was shocked that you hadn't.

"No!" fear settling back in to your bones.

Simon dropped a foot on his chest, a loud groan leaving him. Clearly very much still alive.

"Go back out an' shut the door." His voice low, matching what you were sure the one he used in a warzone.

"GO." he said louder and firmer. You watched as your ex's hands reached around his leg attempting to push him off. Simon replied with a harder press making him cry out... This you realized was Ghost.

"Gonna finish what she started, and end this problem once an' for all." Ghost's growled reaching down, your ex screaming. The fear he must feel seeing death stand before and on him... His last gift to you.

Just as soon as it had started, it stopped. You dare not ask Simon how he ended it... but part of you relieved it would never happen again... this would never happen again.

The door finally opened where he dried his hands off.

"Next time, sweethear'. Make sure they are dead."

Next time? you wanted to say. Next time?

Like this was so easy for him, like they all did it for a liviung

Taglist:

@cutiecusp @angeldemon28 @simplyymee98 @beebeechaos @cadotoast @talooolaaloolla @lhhlver @hon3y-cloud @spktrgantenk @generalruinsexpert @freshlemontea

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Captain John Price Masterlist

[reasonsmandy]

You Intrigue Me

Billy Dunne x Fem!Reader

✧.* part two — is there something lost in the sky?

✧.* requested by anon — Hi! If you're still taking requests can you do one for Billy dunne? The reader is a pretty popular well liked girl in the same way Billy was and she's basically the one for Billy but they never really cross paths so she doesn't know he likes her like that, they just stay friends. She's not in the band so she doesn't see them often but when she visits during the tour daisy realises she's who Billy's crazy about. Thanks in advance!

✧.* summary — He made you curious in so many ways and you wanted to know why, it was like looking at yourself in a mirror. It was curious how you mirrored each other and at the same time showed each other a new world.

✧.* warnings — none.

✧.* word count — 4.6k

✧.* 🎤 — Billy Dunne's masterlist

✧.* mandy's notes — I didn't put Camila in this story because I didn't want her to be cheated on or have her heart broken, so we're left without her in this universe :)

There were layers in you that weren't easy to access, not even for you, moments and experiences that shaped your being that were so complex to disentangle that just guide you along the way to where you are. Every passion, frustration and new encounter arising in your being during your life was demonstrated by you to others in only one way: music.

You've always shown everything you felt in music and you knew that's what you wanted to do in life from the beginning, and you followed that path with perseverance until you conquered where you are now.

Every chorus the audience screamed at the top of their lungs reverberated through your body and made your bones tremble, while your band played the songs you knew by heart since you were fourteen when you started creating them in your room, you danced around the stage, interacted with the audience and gave your all for each of those individuals who made you so proud of your work.

They jumped up and down as if it was the last night of their lives, the signs with funny phrases, praise for you, and of course several lyrics of your songs, some looked at you with tears in their eyes others with so much emotion that you couldn't help thinking that some drug was involved, but who were you to judge if the one you had this morning was still on your system?

Those were usually the best nights of your life, you loved the shows, the energy of the audience vibrating so intensely full of energy feeling every lyric just like you felt living what you write and sing on each album. It was her way of connecting with the world, of feeling seen by someone, of being heard. And it seemed to work when you looked at those faces.

The spotlights focus on you for a few seconds while you sing the last notes to finish, you close your eyes feeling that adrenaline through your veins once more, it was good to be sober to witness the ecstasy of it, the wonder it was to hear the applause and achieve what you'd always wanted.

You walk backstage with a washcloth slung over your shoulder, panting from everything you've just experienced. Someone from the staff you don't recognize because of the dark offers you a bottle of water and you gladly accept it, taking quick sips eager to quench the thirst that has grown in you since the fourth song. Your back was leaning against some speakers while you caught your breath, from time to time wiping the beads of sweat that descended from your forehead, you heard a few steps behind you and opened your eyes in curiosity.

"You were rocking up there." A man with curly hair and a waistcoat says with a broad smile, Warren Rojas, you'll soon recognize it.

"Thank you Rojas." You say while nodding your head, soon the other band members join you.

You knew very little about The Six, they were new to your label and they were buzzing around, you were happy for their success, after all it wasn't easy to get off the ground that way in the first place. But no one in their right mind could deny that 'Look Me in The Eye' was sensational, they were very good and deserved the recognition they gradually gained. They were on their first tour and Teddy Price had asked you for a favor to open their first show, you were a little reluctant to accept because you didn't know if your songs fit theirs, but something inside you told him to accept the invitation.

It was their first night and you could see the nervousness mixed with the longing to meet their audience, little by little they headed to the stage and again the crowd was agitated amid screams and applause. You tried to ignore the heavy presence of Billy Dunne a little far from you, he looked thoughtful, as if thousands of things danced in his mind driving him crazy with their jumps and twirls. You think about approaching him but are reluctant... There is something so intimate in his figure, almost similar to a mirror.

You had never talked much, and you weren't sure if you wanted this closeness with him, something in you said that getting closer to him meant getting in touch with those layers in you that were so unreachable. You blatantly stare at him, and when he looks back at you it's like a vulnerability attacks your body, you straighten your posture.

"They're waiting for you." You say nodding towards the stage exit, The older Dunne looks straight into your eyes and sighs. "Look, I know it sounds scary, but when you get there, the music takes you with it. At least that's how it is with me."

He listens to you, which surprises you, on the outside he doesn't seem like a good listener at all. Something inside you gives a twinge, you recognize yourself in his eyes in a way.

"They are here for you, take your moment and feel that energy in your bones. I assure you there is nothing like it." You say lighting a cigarette and bringing it to your lips, your words emboldened the word him and you could see it by the way he took a deep breath.

He walks up the stairs listening to the crowd cheer as Warren begins the countdown to the entrance of the song noticing the figure of Billy at the foot of the stage, he looks at you before putting the guitar around your neck.

"Thank you." He murmurs, you just smile.

…

The show had been spectacular, it had been a while since you had witnessed such energy as an audience and you had to admit that you had been ignorant to think that your music styles didn't match theirs. From the balcony of your hotel room you could hear the city quieting down, there is something curious about the early mornings that make your thoughts wake up, it was always difficult to fall asleep during these days on the road, it was like a constant reminder that moving through various cities was more belonging than what you called home.

When the energy of the shows wore off and you found yourself alone in that hotel room at your own mercy, it was almost bizarre how you managed to entertain thousands of people but never yourself. The early morning breeze hit your skin like a call to the earth, bringing you back to the scene in front of you as you felt your hair stand on end in the frigid air. Your gaze goes to the clock, three in the morning.

You sigh, engaging your body in a hobby, deciding to go for a walk when you notice that you wouldn't quiet your thoughts so easily. Yellow lights illuminated the hotel lobby, you can see the surprise of the two employees who were behind the counter when they saw you exiting the elevator, you offer them a small smile and head for the exit.

It wasn't much different from the balcony in your room, maybe just a little cooler. Maybe now it was more vivid to be able to notice the details of what you admired from afar with a better perspective. At the same time that environment is so distant and apathetic towards you, it brings you a strange comfort.

There is something admirable about silence, about questions that cannot be answered, about the curiosity that surrounds each individual. Being there in the insignificance of your being through the greatness of it all, was a call to question yourself every time you caught yourself admiring the sky too much. Was there any purpose in this relentless pursuit?

"Is there something lost in the sky?" A low voice brings you back to reality once more, you bring your attention to the man with long hair who slowly approaches you.

"Not that I know of." You shrug, opening a small smile. "But there probably is, if I'm lost here, imagine whoever is up there."

You didn't understand why you were being so honest with him, it was the second time you interacted with him but it felt natural, and necessary. Billy looks at you in curiosity, understanding you, you notice.

"Do you think there's someone up there?" He asks, the question makes you think, you shrug deciding not to answer. He looks at you arching his eyebrows. "You intrigue me Y/N."

You light a cigarette, offering him another, he accepts. "And why's that?"

He takes a long drag, you watch the way his lips wrap around the object and that for some reason captures your attention. "There's a fine line between identifying with someone and wanting to be like them." He blows the smoke to the other side, "I don't know how I feel about you"

His answer makes your legs weak, you swallow hard trying to understand if the intensity of your day confused the discernment you were having of this moment, or if it was those eyes that simply made it impossible for you to respond.

"I just think you're an interesting person." He adds, you can't help noticing that now he was looking at the sky like you. "You know, I would love to write a song about you."

This captures your attention more, you turn your body fully towards him now, turning your face in curiosity. "Look, it usually works, I've been doing it for a few years."

Your comment makes him laugh, you notice that such a sound warms your stomach, it was good. "But I doubt you can do a better job than me." You shrug, he smirks at you with a curious look in his eyes.

"It's a challenge?" You can see that he was shivering a little, probably regretting his choice of outfit as he left his room.

You cross your arms with a bigger smile on your lips, the cigarette was already ending at this point. "Let's do it like this, I write about you and you about me. And we will see which album does better."

His eyes gleamed with the idea, it wasn't a fight between you, but a competition surrounded by curiosity and eagerness to see where it would all go. You were full of talent, reigns of genius in every line and musical note, from there wonderful things would come out for the music industry for sure.

"It's a deal!" He extends his hand towards you, you notice his calloused fingers probably because of the guitar, you shake his hand.

"See you around Billy Dunne." You throw your cigarette butt in the trash can next to you, entering the hotel once again.

…

The "See you around Billy Dunne" was in fact a prediction of what would happen in the coming months, you didn't have much time together even more with the continuation of the 'SevenEighNine' tour and later your own. You exchanged glances and several conversations during some early mornings from time to time, as time went by the line that connected you two was gradually pulled closer and you strangely loved it.

When you returned to the day of the record company, you saw each other in some meetings and among the halls of the place, the tension grew with each look, with each simple touch between you, with each non-verbal conversation. It was like a growing need that yearned to be satisfied, and how to satisfy that? You two had an escape from such needs, a way to demonstrate what words themselves could not do, it was the melodies that you showed all of that.

Each new song was a new hook to create more, a quest to light and increase that flame, it was addictive and you loved it.

You hummed softly as you strummed the guitar in the empty sound room, from time to time removing the pencil that is resting behind your ear to write in the notebook in front of you, days like that were good... Being inspired and proud of what you created was sensational.

A sound makes you come out of the trance, your eyes go to the big door that is opened by the figure of Billy Dunne, surprised you raise your eyebrow without saying anything. He tosses a notebook above yours, sitting by your side, you remain silent he then runs his hands through his hair.

"I wanted you to see this one." He says with a sigh, you open a small smile taking the object in your hands.

His handwriting was complicated, but you decide not to comment on it, making an effort to understand his notes. You feel his gaze on you, you know exactly what that feeling of vulnerability was, having your writing in someone's hands at the mercy of their judgment is as vulnerable as sex. He was nervous to know your opinion, his eyes analyzed every corner of your face in search of something that showed what you had found, you made sure not to let it show.

The lyrics were like the mold of his core, it was deep, delicate, at the same time harsh and brazen, it screamed at you while holding you in its comfort, it made you think and question and be sure about the little you already know. It was like delving into his soul, it was intimate and vulnerable, the feeling that you know so much about someone while not having exchanged a word with him in your life was peculiar. With each verse you delve deeper and deeper into the knowledge and meaning it brings to a new vision, and you understand that the magnitude of such sets was not just for being a demonstration of his vulnerability but also because it made you question and go in search of your own vulnerability. The peculiar thing was that, you felt like you knew about him when in fact the music was leading you to yourself from the beginning.

You only notice that you are crying when your tear hits the page, you are quick to suck your cheeks trying to recover from the wave of emotions that invaded you after the bridge of the song, how he did it you had no idea but he was able to access the layers you never got in yourself. You bring your gaze to him, a small smile on his face shows he is proud of his work.

"You intrigue me Billy Dunne." You quote him, then applauding what he had read. "Do you already have an idea for a melody?"

"Daisy is helping me with this, I mean, we fight more than we help each other but..." He says through a weak laugh. "I'm sure it will come out eventually."

"I want to be the first to hear it when it's ready." The smile on your face was inevitable, as was the need to be closer to him. For an instant you swear you can swim in the depths of his blue eyes.

His sapphire eyes wander in looking at yours and your lips, he slowly approaches you, another silent need hovering between you, but it was no secret to either of you that there was little left for that line to be crossed, his hands gradually approached your thigh and you allow him to touch you, feeling the great wave of electricity through you.

You take one of your hands to his cheeks, and kiss him unprecedentedly. As your lips meet, the atmosphere around you crackles with an electric charge. The kiss is a fusion of urgency and tenderness, a long-awaited culmination of desire. Your hands find their way to each other, intertwining and exploring with a delicate, passionate touch.

The kiss is a revelation, a meeting of souls that transcends words. It is an exploration of unspoken desires and hidden depths, an intimate connection that takes both of you by surprise. Time seems to stand still as your lips dance in perfect harmony, each movement deepening the connection between you.

The taste of the kiss is intoxicating, a blend of sweetness and longing that leaves you craving more. It is a sensory experience, heightened by the touch of your hands on each other's bodies, creating a symphony of sensations that sends shivers down your spine.

In that moment, the world outside fades away, and it's just the two of you, lost in the intensity of the kiss. It is a meeting of minds, a collision of emotions, where every touch and every breath speaks volumes. The chemistry between you is undeniable, and the passion that courses through your veins is palpable.

As the kiss reaches its peak, a mixture of desire, vulnerability, and connection fills the air. It is a moment of surrender, where inhibitions melt away and the depth of your connection becomes undeniable.

As the kiss slowly comes to an end, you find yourselves breathless, your lips tingling with the remnants of the shared passion. The silence remains, almost as present between you as the other feelings, he licks his lips and soon smiles, picking up his notebook.

"I'll call you when it's ready." He speaks in a hoarse voice, you open a big smile watching him leave through the same door he entered.

…

For Daisy Jones, Billy's creativity operated in a very complex and different way from her own, after all, she rarely did this sober. For her it was like seeing a rare phenomenon happen before her eyes, and besides, it was very curious to know what was the basis for such inspiration in the songs that were entrusted to him. He was a quiet person, he didn't even open up to his brother who had been there forever, so Jones's biggest hobby together with Warren was to go in search of who was the inspiring muse of the older Dunne.

They had become addicted to it, searching for little clues and hints Billy left in the lyrics, or analyzing every change in attitude, every longer exchange of glances, but they had nothing but big guesses. Warren swore it was one of the helpers Teddy had hired over the past month, but Daisy maintained that the songs were too deep to be about someone the Dunne knew for such little time.

But the redhead didn't know you, she couldn't take her guesses to you because she had no idea of your existence until that day. Eddie played around doing some riffs, catching Graham's attention, who wrote it down in a notebook nearby—noticing only later that it wasn't his, but Warren's. Karen hunched over the keyboard sleepily waiting for Billy to show up, Warren had gathered several cans and was drumming on them as he talked to Daisy, both of them smoking cigarettes.

When opening the studio doors it was like shouting at a room that had just entered, because everyone immediately turned their eyes to you, you smile small as a way to avoid more extensive hellos, Billy doesn't take long to come after you with a huge smile on his face, which does not go unnoticed by Daisy.

She looks at Warren with wide eyes, as if begging him to understand what she was trying to say, Rojas doesn't even notice. She rolls her eyes and walks over to her microphone putting her headphones, the musical aura has always been a home for you so it's not uncomfortable being there with these people at any time.

You really wanted to hear how they had shaped those lyrics as a team, creating and bringing music to life was always and will be the best art form for you, and to see that magic happen before your eyes was always spectacular. The song didn't disappoint you in any way, you were too proud of what they had done there, you wanted to cry again but maybe it was too intimate for you to let that happen there.

You close your eyes letting the melody invade your eardrums, your hair shivers, the butterflies in your stomach grow again and you feel like you belong. When the melody drops and you notice the song gradually fading away, you applaud them with a gigantic, proud smile. Interestingly, Teddy does the same on the other side of the glass.

Daisy comes to her senses then, she notices the look in the older Dunne's eyes, the way he seems light in her presence, the way he seems to involuntarily reach out to you. She asks Teddy and Tobias if they had finished recording and they release her, she doesn't take long to grab Rojas by the hands and pull him out of the room.

"What happened?" Warren was high, she could tell because she was coming off her own.

"It's her!” Jones exclaims, pointing to the room that had the doors closed beside them. The drummer frowns, she sighs. "Billy's inspirational muse is that girl inside."

"Y/N?" He questions as if trying to connect the dots, he moves his fingers as if he's doing the math. "You think?"

"I'm sure!" The redhead exclaims excitedly, it was as if looking at you she could read Billy's lyrics. "I've never seen him smile like that."

"It must be because he hates you." Warren shrugs, smoothing his mustache. She frowns. "Are you sure it's not Gabriela?"

"He never exchanged a word with her Warren!" Daisy looked irritated, the drummer thought it was funny.

"You never saw the two of them talking either." He snaps his fingers pointing to the door like he's made the best argument in the world.

"Looking at her is like I'm looking at songs from this album, Warren!" She says hitting the key of her argument, Rojas is thoughtful. "I mean, apart from my songs."

"I still don't think we can rule out the idea that Gabi..." He starts to speak but is interrupted by the door being opened.

You walk out the door with Billy Dunne at your side, you guys laugh at something he had commented about Graham inside, it was curious how good and comfortable you felt next to him. Daisy looks at Warren with emphasizing what she had already said with just a fixed look, Warren closes his eyes still uncertain.

"Teddy gave us a few minutes to spare before the next round." Billy clarifies, running his hands through his hair. "We're going to the diner nearby, do you guys want something?"

"No no, enjoy." Daisy smiles small, almost like a smirk on her lips.

"I want a natural sandwich, an orange juice and if you can, bring me a granola bar too." Rojas says adjusting his vest, getting a chuckle from you, an annoyed look from Billy and an incredulous one from Daisy.

…

The background music was yours, you smile small with pride in your chest but try not to show it. You decide to sit at a table farther apart, avoiding prying eyes, you both knew you weren't very talkative people at times like these. Billy asks what he wanted to eat, you do the same and remind him to order for Warren too.

"And? What do you think of the result? "He questions drinking some of her juice. Looking deeply into your eyes.

"It was perfect, I had no doubt it was going to be so fucking good." You say, biting the sandwich that rested in front of you.

"To hear that from you means a lot." He sounded sincere, you decide to believe him. "Don't ask me why, it's complex."

You raise your hands in surrender, causing him to chuckle. You then open your bag and take out your notebook, he watches your every move with curiosity.

"My turn to surprise you." You hand it to him gently, you felt very vulnerable now, he accessed his layers slowly and it was scary, but it was good when it was done with him.

As Billy receives the notebook from you, his eyes flicker with a mix of anticipation and curiosity. He holds the notebook gently, his fingertips tracing the worn cover before opening it, revealing the pages that hold your musical creation.

As he starts to read the lyrics and notes, a range of emotions flicker across his face. His brows furrow slightly, indicating deep concentration as he absorbs the words and melodies you've crafted. The lines etched on his forehead soften, transitioning into a subtle smile that tugs at the corners of his lips.

You notice a glimmer in his eyes, a spark of recognition and appreciation. It's as if your song has struck a chord within him, resonating with his own emotions and experiences. The way he leans into the notebook, immersing himself in your creation, speaks volumes about his genuine interest and investment in your art.

He takes a moment to collect his thoughts, his gaze shifting between the notebook and your expectant face. When he finally speaks, his voice carries a mix of awe and reverence.

"This is incredible," he says, his voice filled with sincerity. "Fuck Y/N… This is indeed a masterpiece."

A smile spreads across your face, mirroring the warmth and pride that swells within your chest. His genuine admiration and appreciation for your work validate the vulnerability you felt in sharing it with him.

"I still have things to polish on it." You make it clear, taking another bite of your sandwich. "But I think something really good is going to come out of it."

"You think? I'm sure." He looked proud of you, it was a good feeling.

Billy looks up at you, his eyes shining with admiration and gratitude. He reaches out to place a hand gently on yours, a silent gesture of connection and understanding. The unspoken bond between you deepens in that moment, as your artistic expressions have transcended words and touched something profound within him.

His reaction is a testament to the power of your song, and you feel a surge of confidence and joy. This exchange of creativity and vulnerability strengthens your connection, reminding you both of the unique bond you share as artists and individuals.

"When is the album ready?" He asks, the french fries in front of him didn't look very good but he kept eating them every now and then. "I don't want to rush you or anything, I just want to hear you sing again."

"You don't need any excuse to hear me sing Billy Dunne." You smile small, admiring his beautiful eyes.

He doesn't know much what to say, so he watches you intrigued, trying to decipher where you're going with this.

"Meet me tonight at the studio, I'll sing for you." You offer by opening your purse and leaving money on the table for your order.

"Are you asking me on a date?" He asks without taking his eyes off yours, you feel your legs go weak.

"Come and find out." You wink at him leaving the room.

Daisy pushes Warren a little to the side, he complains about the slight pain he feels in his arm but continues with his role of observing the table of the two from afar.

"You see? They're clearly having something!" She says proudly at having figured out her big mystery.

"I never would have guessed, really." He shrugs, playing with one of his curls.

"What the fuck are you guys doing here?" Billy asks when he notices familiar voices when he goes to pay the bill.

"Eating dinner?" Warren tries to coax him with a wide smile. Billy rolls his eyes, leaving the place. "Hey wait, did you buy my granola bar?"

...

Hi, I hope you enjoyed it... If you wanted to ask for something my requests are open, and if you want to ask and don't have any ideas check out my prompt list :) xoxo

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[strawberryya]

rainy nights

pairing: seungkwan x reader

synopsis: Is your fiancé ready to weather the storm if your worst nightmares were to be revealed? Maybe it's just the frigid weather seeping inside, unfurling all the anxieties you've locked away, or perhaps there's more to it.

word count: 4.6k

genre/cw: angst, fluff, hurt/comfort, established relationship, fighting, cheating allegations, mentions of food and alcohol, a lot of insecurities in relationship

rating: sfw

a/n: autumn angst coming your way!! This is for the svthub fall-ing collab which u should check out for all the cozy fall vibes that are needed during these cold and dark months 🫶

network tagging: @svthub @cultofdionysusnet @k-labels @kvanity-main

You came home to find a sleepy Seungkwan, nodding off in front of a movie he seemed to have barely begun watching. Your fiance has been working hard these past few weeks. With his newest show airing and promoting things left and right every day, you knew how exhausted he must feel. He answered your greeting with a drowsy hello as you stepped into your shared flat. The living room looked so warm even without any sun shining through the windows, the darkness outside seemingly unable to get inside through the glass panes. Quickly shaking off your outerwear you immediately ran over to Seungkwan, and the warmth he and the blankets offered you. 

“Long day?” 

Seungkwan nodded in response, smiling a little as you buried yourself on the other end of the couch. It was chilly outside, and you were cold to the bone after walking home. Seungkwan jumped at your cold feet snuggling against him in search of warmth, “My god, how are you so cold?!” 

“I didn’t realize it would be that cold outside today, so I wore my cute shoes…” you cried out, earning a sympathetic, but chastising look from Seungkwan.

Shaking his head, he told you what you already knew. “It’s fall, how could you not think it would be cold outside? What if you catch a cold?” 

“I know, I’m the one freezing because of it…” You frowned and cuddled into the blankets even more. 

Your fiance only hummed in response, having accepted your cold limbs resting against him and slowly but surely warming up. He looked very pretty tonight, his dark hair messily falling over his forehead. He had showered and changed into comfy clothes right away after coming home. You had meant to do the same, but the sting of getting into a hot shower right away after being in the freezing cold did not feel like a good idea once you had gotten inside. Cuddling was definitely the better option. And spending some time like this with Seungkwan was honestly exactly what you needed right now. It had been a while since you had been able to talk or spend time together since the both of you were working until late way too often. Resulting in the both of you being too tired to do much other than cuddle a bit or simply fall asleep. 

“Did you have dinner?” you asked, patting his leg to get his attention. He was close to falling asleep again, the movie apparently not interesting enough to keep him awake for the hour that was left. “Mm, we had a team dinner,” Seungkwan mumbled. 

“Ah, the entire crew? Where did you go? Did you eat something tasty?” you asked excitedly. Usually, Seungkwan would bring you take-away of whatever food he had eaten when going out, and you would of course do the same if you found it tasty. It was a little tradition you had created over the years. Since you both had a hard time going out to restaurants for actual dates during your busy weeks, it was easier to bring it home and share the experience once you were both home. With Seungkwan, even doggy bags had become something romantic to you. 

“It was okay, the autumn-style stew they had was pretty good though, there's some in the fridge for you if you haven’t eaten yet,” he said and let the corners of his lips curl when he heard you exited shout, he loved making you happy through small things like these. “It was me, Eunji, and a few crew people since we were the only ones left when we stopped filming today. It was pretty fun, but I think I should’ve drank a bit less since I’m supposed to film tomorrow too…” he added, making your excitement dissolve as quickly as it had appeared. 

You would’ve reassured him that it would be fine, he would do his best as usual even if he was slightly hughover. But all you could hear was her name. Eunji… Seungkwans university girlfriend. The model-looking actress who was working on the same show as Seungkwan this time. She was his first true love. She is gorgeous, kind, and worst of all: you even find her likable. 

You aren’t a jealous person, you never have been. But when it came to her… you couldn’t help but feel inferior. It was hard to speak about that with Seungkwan, he wouldn’t see it how you do. 

With a forced smile, in case his drowsy eyelids weren’t covering his sight as much as you thought, you pretended to be okay with what he had told you. 

“Eunji… It’s been a while since you worked together.” 

With a slow hum, Seungkwan agreed. It wasn’t often the two got to work together on shows nowadays. It had been more frequent right after university, their past relationship hidden from the public as a close friendship, and both of their careers within the acting industry taking off. This was also around the same time he had first met you…

“She says hi, by the way.” 

“Oh, well, tell her I said hi back next time then…” 

Seungkwan had stopped resting his head on his hand, instead letting his head fall back on the pillows leaned against the armrest. Warm light from the kitchen was lighting up his soft features, making your heart flutter when you thought about how someone like him had fallen for you. And then you felt that familiar, sinking feeling that bubbled up from within and whispered in your ear: maybe your love for him isn’t enough to keep him. 

He held your heart in his hands, and you stood powerless beside him. Still waiting to see what he would do with it in the end. If he decided to win back Eunji’s heart, what would he need yours for? 

You bit the nail of your thumb, shoulders tensing up as you watched your fiance nodding off yet again. Knowing would be better than not knowing, right? It would be less painful if you could see it coming. You were engaged, but if you didn’t get married before he broke your heart it would be easier for the both of you, wouldn’t it? 

His lips sat in a perfect pout, pretty cheekbones making him a vision to look at, and still, you felt like he wasn’t truly yours to look at like this. Did he still think about what could’ve been with Eunji? 

You couldn’t help but recall an autumn night much like this one at the beginning of your relationship. Back then you had stayed up talking late into the night. Both of you were tired, but not ready to put the threads of your conversation to rest just yet. You had told him about thoughts you had never shared with a partner before, things only your best friends knew about, things that were so deep-rooted within your thoughts that they affected your entire person. Insecurities, convictions, and the silly plans you saw in your future. He had understood you, at least you were convinced he had. You wanted to think that he still did. 

Back then, when the leaves were turning copper, and golden sunshine tainted your relationship he had told you about Eunji. The girl he wasn’t sure he would ever fully get over – his first true love. 

You had listened and felt like you understood what he had meant back then. You had your past relationships as well, with your fair share of guys you thought you would never get over until you had. She was just like that, time erases all, you were so convinced of that back then. 

Now, you felt differently. During the years since that first autumn, you had fallen deeper in love with him than you had ever been with anyone before. You had realized that he was your first true love. And you weren’t his. 

He was fast asleep on the couch next to you. You should let it all go, cuddle up next to him, and deal with your emotions after some sleep. But should do and do are very different things. Instead, you buffed Seungkwan’s leg yet again, his eyelids sliding open to look at you. “Mh?” 

“Am I your rebound?” you asked softly, tears stuck in your throat.

Your question seemed to catch him off guard. It took a while for the words to register in his tired brain. “What do you mean by that? I don’t even know what the fuck you want me to answer to that.” He barked out as he squinted at you. 

His tone was snappier than you had expected. All of your worst fears about your relationship swarmed your thoughts, and his tone made you feel like he had something to defend. Like your words had rung true, that you were just a rebound, even though he hadn’t said it straight up. 

“I mean what I said, am I your rebound? Do you still think about her?”

“Have you lost it? I can’t mention Eunji to you without you getting jealous about it?” Seungkwan had stopped trying to adjust his tired eyes to watch your expression, too tired and tipsy to take your questions seriously. It wasn’t the first time you had become overly worried about the smallest thing. He didn’t pay it too much mind and usually made sure you got some peace of mind. But tonight he didn’t want to be the one to calm your mind – he wanted to sleep. 

“Can’t we do this tomorrow instead? My head hurts.”

The tears your body was too tired to hold back came welling out, staining your cheeks. You knew it was stupid, but it wasn’t too far-fetched. People went back to their exes all the time! What made someone as amazing as Seungkwan want to stay with you instead of be with someone who was both a whole lot prettier than you and also famous in the same industry as him? She probably understood him better than you, maybe he was her true love as well. You kept making yourself more and more riled up, the longer Seungkwan kept his eyes closed, his arm now covering his tired eyes. 

“Why can’t you just tell me that you miss her? I know you do.”

Seungkwan sighed, he was getting annoyed with you now, you felt it. “You don’t know what I'm feeling. Why are you trying to start a fight?”

“I’m not trying to start a fight! I just want you to be honest with me! We don’t talk anymore and I just want to spend some time with you, and I know I can’t blame you for that, but I just… You don’t even seem to notice how much more time you spend with your ex compared to me, your freaking fiancee! So I just want to know now, before it’s too late if you even want to be with me.”

You were sobbing, desperation, anxiety, and weeks of exhaustion all washing over you at once. It was all too much, and you just wanted him to comfort you. 

“Please, just stop overthinking, I really don’t know where you got all that from… let’s just go to bed and we can try and fix all that tomorrow. I can’t deal with this right now.”

“Deal?” You sobbed. “Am I something you have to deal with? Why are you being mean? I just want to know who you even love…” 

“My god, what the fuck are you talking about? I’m so tired, I really cannot do this right now.” Seungkwan groaned, throwing the blankets off his body and walking off towards the bedroom. You didn’t say anything when he slammed the bathroom door a bit too harshly, quiet rage simmering inside of you. He seemed like he would be okay even if you were to walk out right at that moment, he didn’t even seem to care about your tears or your feelings one bit. Would he have cared if you were Eunji? 

“Fine!” You yelled towards the closed doors separating you from your fiancé. “I won’t bother you then!” 

Quickly you shoved your feet back into your shoes, throwing your jacket on, and slamming the door behind you when you left. It was childish, you knew it was. You wiped at your tears, the wind helping you dry off a little, and the cold making you question if you shouldn’t go back instead. 

But going back wouldn’t solve anything. Staying away for now was best for everyone. You needed time to cool off, time to somehow talk yourself down, and reason with your anxieties enough to go back without crying and asking stupid questions again. 

You could call someone, sleep somewhere else, and try again tomorrow night after work. Before you could even finish making up a plan like that you realized that you had left your phone at home. You hadn’t brought anything but the few things already in your jacket pockets. Under a streetlamp you checked what you had: gum wrappers, a spare charger, and your wallet. At least that would be useful… 

You weren’t sure you wanted to talk about it yet anyhow, and it was too late to barge into someone’s place unannounced. Nevertheless, you would need to find someplace warm soon, the autumn wind blowing up golden leaves around you was already biting at your skin. You decided running to the bus stop and heading further into the city would be the best idea right now, hoping to find some restaurant that would stay open even this late on a weekday. The cold had almost made you forget about why you had even gone out, but the wound of his distant words was still fresh, and your heart ached even as you ran towards the bus. 

Seungkwan heard the door slamming shut behind you, it echoed through the house. 

“Where are they even going?” he grumbled to himself. 

He could’ve gone after you, but he wasn’t ready to face you yet, he couldn’t stop being mad about the whole conversation. He wanted to fall asleep. He wanted to forget that you had doubted him, that you had cried because of him. To Seungkwan it wasn’t even a possibility that he would ever get back together with Eunji, she was a part of his past, and now a colleague. Nothing more. He thought you knew that. 

It was impossible to stop thinking about the way you had sounded so hurt, so painfully weak while you asked who you were to him. The annoyance and anger over how you had started a fight over nothing was slowly but surely morphing into worry the longer he thought about it. 

His head throbbed as he tossed and turned in bed. He still hadn’t been able to fall asleep, his mind and body too busy trying to listen to the door opening, and the faint sound of your footsteps on the wooden floor. It was always easier to fall asleep when you were beside him. For hours he tried to get his mind to let go and give him some rest before you would come home and he would try and make things right. 

He wasn’t blameless, after all. If you thought he was able to do something like that he was partially responsible, he thought as he stared into the darkness surrounding him. Should he try calling you? If he knew where you were, even if you didn’t come back home tonight, maybe he could get some sleep and apologize for his response. He had been tired, but he knew he couldn’t blame that entirely. You were tired too. It had been a long week, and he didn’t even welcome you home like he wanted to. 

Picking up his phone he was started by the bright blue light that hit his sleepy eyes. He dialed your number, hoping that you would at least pick up. 

The beeps as he waited for you to pick up sounded throughout the empty bedroom, but a faint buzzing sound traveling from somewhere further away was distinguishable after a while. Were you still home? Had you never left? He ran up before he could think twice about what to say if you were sitting out there after all this time. 

You weren’t there though, your phone ringing alone on the counter where you had left it along with your house keys and bag. “Shit, she ran out without bringing anything?” 

Seungkwan’s hand brushed through his hair, head hurting as he felt the anxious thoughts about where you could have gone and if you were safe and warm arise in his mind. What if you were outside freezing in the cold, refusing to come home because of him and his mean response? He thought about running out to find you again. But it had been hours since you left. There was no way he would be able to find you wandering the streets at this hour. He pulled open the front door, the chilly autumn breeze giving him goosebumps. The leaves were wet and stuck to the shining asphalt outside. Rain drizzled and the wind forced the tiny drops inside. He quickly shut the door again, leaving it unlocked in case you came back without him noticing. You didn’t have your keys after all. 

Now he felt even worse. Had he done enough to reassure you that he was as madly in love with you as he felt he was? What had made you doubt him? When would you come back? It was overwhelming, his mind spun, and he had no control over himself anymore. 

Seungkwan decided that it was best to not spiral too far before he knew that you were safe. He called everyone he could think of. Your parents, your best friends, and even some acquaintances who lived close by. Only a few picked up, it was past midnight on a workweek after all. The few who did were more confused than anything. Nobody had seen or heard from you, and why was he calling this late at night looking for you? Had something happened? He didn’t know how to answer the questions they all asked. Once he knew that you weren’t there he simply hurried to apologize for disturbing you so late before hanging up and trying the next person. 

But you weren’t anywhere. Nobody had seen you. Nobody had heard from you. Which wasn’t strange, since you had left your phone behind. Seungkwan held his face in his palms, staring at his list of contacts, there was nowhere else you could’ve gone. He had called everyone he could think of. You might have been with one of the people who hadn’t picked up, of course. He tried to tell himself that you were safe and warm, asleep at a friend’s house. He imagined your tears dried, and your resting figure under a blanket. Safe from the storm that was continuing to pick up outside. 

“She’s ok, I know she is,” Seungkwan mumbled to himself, hands rubbing against his features, legs unable to stay still where he sat at the kitchen counter. Hoping that someone would call back and tell him that he could relax for even a couple of hours. 

He slanted over to the couch. Once again he tried sleeping but woke up every twenty minutes, the weakest sounds of wind outside waking him where he lay, your next to his on the coffee table. It had been left behind just like he had. You had just fucking left. And now you were somewhere out in the cold or at some friend’s house seething about what a dick he was. And he was. But couldn’t you have stayed at home and let him know how much of a dick he had been instead of leaving him all alone? 

As he dozed off he could hear your laughter, he remembered it so clearly he almost thought you had come home. It wasn’t real, he could recall the day when you had been laughing just like that. A couple of years ago, on an autumn day much like today, you had moved in together, into this house. You had been so excited, and he had never felt so fond of someone as he had that day. Seungkwan had always wondered what it would feel to fall in love with someone over and over again, but with you, he had found out. Every day he found a new thing about you that drove him mad. The way you pouted, when you sang in the shower, how you would kiss him goodbye even if he was sleepy and had morning breath. It all made his heart beat an extra beat, and always put a smile on his lips. You had rolled out the carpet beneath the couch he was on right now together. You had been adamant about making sure that he got two dozen kisses before you got up from the floor to continue unpacking, leaving him chuckling on the new carpet, looking up after you as you made the house into your home. 

He had been so happy back then, and you had a magic about you that could make him happy still. 

And somehow, he had made you doubt how much he loved you. He didn’t know how, but recalling your tears as he ignored your worries last night made his heartache. A silent tear fell from his eye, waking him from his sleepless dreams. 

That first night when you had begun living your lives together in this house you had baked an apple pie. You said that the house needed to be told that someone was being loved inside of it again. Apparently, a house found out that love was present through the scent of freshly baked pies. It had made him laugh back then, but he had loved that pie. The memory gave him an idea. 

Because, if he wasn’t going to get any sleep, he might as well do something other than sit around worrying all night. 

It took him a while to follow the recipe in your favorite cookbook, he wanted to get everything just right. Carefully peeled apples, sliced and covered in butter, sugar, some flour, and a lot of cinnamon were placed gently in a pan. He had some trouble getting teh dough perfect, but after a second try, he managed to cover the filling with a thin layer of what soon became a flaky crust, a heart visible from the tiny cuts on top decorating it. 

He stared at the pie from across the kitchen floor the entire time it baked. A hundred different ways to apologize, argue back, and confess his undying love swirling around in his mind until the buzzer went off. 

When the pie stood on the rack to cool off, and the oven was turned off, Seungkwan sank down on the floor yet again. His back was against the cupboards, and his eyelids were heavy with sleepiness. He let it wash over him this time, knocking him out swiftly, and leaving him sleeping sitting up where he was. 

The rain had soaked your hair on the short run from to and from the bus. The restaurant had closed, and one of the servers had gently woken you up from your agitated sleep. You had been a bit embarrassed about having fallen asleep and leaned against your table like that, apologizing for being a nuisance to the staff while quickly paying and running out into the rainy night. 

You wanted to go home and sleep in your bed, next to Seungkwan. There hadn’t been much of a choice at that point. It was in the early hours of the morning, and the last shop had closed for the night. Home was the only place for you right now. 

The door blew open faster than you had intended for it to, the wind grabbing ahold of it as you tried to escape the cold rain. Inside it was warm, and a sweet scent filled the space, confusing you more than anything had that night. You dropped your wet jacket on a chair, mind trying to tell you to go dry off your hair, but feet dragging you towards the kitchen, too curious about what could’ve created the delicious smell of apples, cinnamon, and buttery dough. 

In the dim light from the kitchen counter lights, you found Seungkwan. Asleep on the kitchen floor, with tear-stained cheeks, and flour on his clothes and in his hair. You didn’t know how he had been able to make such a mess. You had only been gone a couple of hours. 

He made you afraid of everything that could take him away from you, and yet you couldn’t help but love him. 

You looked at the picture-perfect pie on the counter and knew you would never be able to leave him. He was your person, he had been your person since the day you had first met during that rainy fall, and he would continue to be your person until the day you were no longer on this earth. 

You bent down to him, brushing away some flour from his soft cheek. Reddened eyes blinked back at you, seemingly not quite sure if they were awake or still off in dreamland. Seungkwan’s arms wrapped around you quickly once he knew with certainty that you had come back for real. You embraced him back, tears welling in the corners of your eyes. You pulled back from him, whispering “I’m sorry,” and getting an equally apologetic look back from your fiancé. 

”I have been yours for years, please believe me when I tell you that I can’t imagine a future where you are not the only person I love.” He whispered, wiping away a water drop from the side of your face gently. You nodded, you did believe him, most days. But you felt like you needed to explain yourself, explain why you couldn’t escape your doubts about how long you would get to keep him to yourself. 

”I wouldn’t be able to do the same.”

”What?” Seungkwan’s thumb stopped moving on your cheek, confusion visible on his face. 

You took a deep breath. ”I wouldn’t be able to move on with someone else if we broke up, because you’re my first true love… and she’s yours. So how can I believe you?”

He fell silent. He remembered the words he had used that first autumn with you. ”My first true love.” Had you been hung up on Eunji all these years simply because of those words? He had thought you were only jealous of her or didn’t trust him enough. But it was his fault, to begin with- 

He hadn’t reassured you enough, he saw that now. 

”Eunji was my first love, that’s true.” He nodded slowly. When his warm hands slid up to hold your cold cheeks you could smell cinnamon on his skin. ”But I want you to be my last true love.” 

Tears fell from your eyes, ”Couldn’t you have said that earlier?” You sobbed out, ”I drank way too much for a work night…”

This made Seungkwan chuckle. His forehead pressed against yours as you both cried silent tears on the kitchen floor. ”I thought you knew.” 

You hugged him tighter, folding yourself into his warmth and his overwhelming love. ”I’ll make sure to tell you every single day from now on,” he whispered before pressing a soft kiss to your lips. 

Reblogging and commenting is highly appreciated!! Hearing what you thought is what makes writing and being here overall so much fun! Ty and ily 💕

[waitingonher]

Hi can you do some Percy Jackson x Hades Child hc?

percy jackson dating a child of hades

pairing: percy jackson x child of hades!reader

content warning: cursing

word count: 780

author's note: sorry this one's a bit shorttt

a son of poseidon and a child of hades? ANOTHER POWER COUPLE. 

everyone knows not to mess with either one of you, or else they’re in for a doozy. 

percy’s always making sure that you’re not overworking yourself. he saw what it did to nico, so he for sure does not want that happening to you too. 

he’ll usually ask in more subtle and casual ways like “training was rough yesterday, how’d you sleep?” or “the lunch selection was good today, what’d you think?” 

it may be overbearing to some, but percy honestly can’t help it. the very last thing he wants is you being too hard on yourself. 

when you two first started dating, you guys—for some reason—decided to make gardening your little thing together?? but when you had accidentally killed them with your aura, you and percy decided to go forward with something a little less…alive. 

LOL so now your guys’ little thing is baking!! 

somehow chiron allowed you and him to use the camp kitchen?? 

anyways, you guys are pretty much pro bakers now! well, if you ignore the time when percy mistook the salt for sugar, then you guys are basically pros. 

you reach your hand out to your boyfriend, “perce, pass me a cookie.” “here,” he passes you a cookie while grabbing himself one, “on the count of three?”  you nod and begin counting, “one, two, three.” taking a bite of the warm cookie, you both immediately realize something’s wrong. the cookie tastes…salty? you see percy’s eyes widen as you two make a dash towards the sink.  “oh my gods! why is it salty?” percy screeches, the chewed up cookie muffling his voice.  after what felt like years of rinsing your mouth, the unpleasant salty taste had left your mouth, “babe, you were in charge of the dry ingredients...so did you use the salt instead of the sugar?”  percy’s eyes widen to the size of saucers, “no…i’m not that stupid. look,” he grabs the plastic container and turns it around, only to reveal the label that reads ‘salt’, "oh…yeah, that’s my bad.” 

considering the reputation your dad has, percy’s always looking out for you. but don’t get me wrong, everyone at camp could not give less of a shit about your dad, but it’s the newcomers he worries about. 

some of the new kids are so bold??? but don’t worry, cuz you and percy ALWAYS find ways to humble them. 

percy’s the type of bf to have almost anything you may need on hand. you need a hair tie? he’s pulling one off his wrist. your lips are chapped? he’s taking out his aquaphor. 

he loves seeing you use your powers, because like…pretty gf who has cool powers over the dead?? what is there not to love??

sometimes when you two are training, you’ll look out the corner of your eye to see your boyfriend just staring at you? percy has ZERO shame and will stare at you whenever he feels like it. 

whenever you guys have sleepovers, he always makes sure you fall asleep before him. it’s more of a comfort thing for him. percy just sleeps better knowing that you’re already sleeping. 

normally he’s a pretty light sleeper, but around you, he’s an even lighter sleeper. he just wants to make sure that he’ll be awake to comfort you in case you have any particularly alarming dreams. 

when you two eat, he never fails to save and offer the last bite to you. but percy doesn’t want you to feel bad about you eating his last bite, so he just nonchalantly offers it to you. 

movie nights with percy!!! 

you’d make him watch all the classic horror movies. shit talking the ones with bad acting and graphics is your guys’ favorite pastime. 

“oh my gods,” percy groans for the umpteenth time, “i swear, it’s probably a mortal who made this movie. they can’t even get the stupid ghosts to look right.”  you laugh at percy’s passion for complaining, “literally! okay but can they get some other guy to play the main character?” 

at this point, you two should make your own horror movie because you’re too busy making fun of them instead of actually enjoying them. 

you also made percy watch tusk… 

ever since watching it, he can’t look at walruses the same. (me too percy)  

gods forbid he runs into one in the ocean. 

percy also has a cork board in his cabin with a shit ton of polaroids on it jdfsksd 

they range from pictures with you to pictures of the sunsets.

but if you pay attention, you’ll find that the majority of the photos include you in them <33

[heygirltimeformorning]

I'm back on my feral cat shit again.

I give you: Eddie freaking out about seeing Buck's dick.

This is just, very close to crack fic, but whatever, man.

Most of it is going under a cut bc there there be talk of penises.

Eddie realizes he’s gay on a Sunday afternoon when he walks into the locker room after a call where Buck had gotten up close and personal with the business end of an elephant, and Buck is naked, toweling his hair off, still grumbling about elephant shit and why the fuck animal control had a weight limit, and something about turkeys and llamas, but Eddie’s brain goes offline when he sees Buck’s dick.

Look, it’s just there. It’s not like he’d been looking, he’d just glanced over at Buck, and there it was. It’s not even the first time he’s seen Buck’s dick (the showers are communal, he’s seen everyone’s dicks, if they have them) but this is, like, full frontal; it’s the first time Eddie has come eye-to-eye, so to speak, with Buck’s dick, and look, Eddie is not a dick expert, but Buck’s dick is -- well, it’s not small, even soft, not even close, and Eddie yelps, like one of those little rat dogs getting stepped on, and leaves the locker room immediately, which is totally normal behavior after seeing his best friend’s dick.

“Eddie?” Buck pokes his head around the door of the locker room, brows knit together in concern.

“Fine, I’m fine,” Eddie says, in response to the question on Buck’s face. “I’m fine. Just -- uh -- tripped over - over - something. I’m fine.”

Eddie is not fine. He hobbles through the rest of the shift -- there isn’t much left of it -- and then he goes home, avoiding Buck’s offer of post-shift food, which is their ritual, now that Chris is in Texas.

The problem is, Eddie can’t stop thinking about it. Well, that isn’t the problem, but the problem is that when he thinks about Buck’s dick, he has other thoughts. It would be one thing if he just thought about Buck’s dick like wow good for him, but Eddie wants to see it again. He wants. He wants, that’s the problem. Frank would have a field day with that, but Eddie is not sharing this with Frank (or anyone).

He’s been on the cusp of a gay realization for -- well, awhile. It’s been coming - somewhere between the cheerleader with the broken pelvis, and confusing his hatred of Tommy for homophobia when it was jealousy - Eddie might have been in the closet, but he wasn’t stupid. The problem wasn’t that he was (apparently) gay, or bi or whatever (he hasn’t had time to experiment with labels -- or, rather, he’s had nothing but time to experiment with labels, but it doesn’t interest him that much), the problem was that his not-straight feelings were, apparently, manifesting as lust about his best friend. Realizing he’s gay? Fine. Realizing he wants to get up close and personal with a penis? Also fine. Realizing the penis he wants to get up close and personal with is one specific penis -- the one attached to his best friend? Very much not fine.

And what’s he supposed to do with that? More specifically, who is he supposed to talk to about that? He can’t exactly call Buck up and say hey, I saw your dick in the shower. Congratulations, by the way, but now I can’t stop thinking about what I want you to do to me with it, now can he? Buck has a boyfriend. Buck does not need Eddie’s congratulations or his complicated feelings.

coming soon to AO3 :)

[lemon-russ]

More smutless (for now) Leman Russ fic. Whats important is that I'm having fun and subjecting you all to it lol.

(Thanks @squishyowl for the dividers. Idk if getting tagged every fic bothers you, lmk :,) )

Wolf Mother (Ch. 2)

<Prev. | Next>

Ao3

Leman Russ x Fem OC

CW (not necessarily this chapter but overall): Trauma, anxiety, PTSD, General WH40k violence, Sex, probably breeding kink stuff eventually, if there's something I miss and you want labeled let me know!!

Summary: Wren and Guilliman arrive at The Fang and meet The Wolf King.

Word count: 1,637

Wren Vaille walks down the corridors of the Macragge's Honour to the door of Guilliman's office. He smiles a greeting to her when she opens the door, and walks beisdes her down the hall.

“Thank you for giving this a chance, Captain.” He says with a smile.

She gives a small smile back, walking around him so he walked on her right side where she could see him. “Of course, sir. It would not be very honorable of me to not even attempt to help you.”

Guilliman raises a brow, then glances at her blinded left eye, scar running through it, and has a small look of understanding, moving aside to give her room. “Still it is a huge favor. But I wouldn't send you somewhere you're in danger. My brother may be rowdy, but I think he will like you.” He smiles at her. “You have the same indomitable spirit.”

She scrunches her brows together. “Uh-huh. Sometimes I fear you have a very inflated idea of me, my Lord.” She says with a small chuckle.

Guilliman chuckles back. “I think you have a very under-inflated view of yourself, Captain. You'll handle the space wolves well, I think.” He says with a pat on her shoulder.

She stumbles a little under the sudden weight of his ceramite gauntlet, bionic leg whirring a groaning noise as she tripped and caught herself before falling.”um- thank you, sir, I suppose.”

They reach the bay doors to the hangar, peppered with blue armored forms and uniforms scurrying around gunning ships and thunderhawks.

A thunderhawk near them was being loaded with what few material possesions she had, a few boxes and a large bag. She swallows hard, her mouth dry.

Guilliman waved to a serf, who brought over a folded coat. “Here, I had this brought for you.” He says, holding up a warm looking, fur lined coat in ultramarine blue. “Fenris is bitterly cold, especially for baseline humans. I worried you wouldn't have sufficent layers.” He smiles.

“Oh, thank you my Lord.” She says, taking the warm, insulated coat. She swallows back some emotion. This may be the last Ultramarine thing she'll own. The rest of her uniform would be packed away with her old Auxillia fatigues.

She gives him a tight smile, trying to not get sentimental. “I really appreciate this, it was very thoughtful.” She says as she pulls on the thick coat.

He smiles and pats her shoulder again. “It's ok to feel emotional, Captain. It is the human thing to feel sad at goodbyes.” He says in a softer tone.

She bites her lower lip. “This is probably only temporary, anyways, my Lord.” She says, walking with him toward the thunderhawk. “I doubt I'll be able to actually keep up with space wolves.” She says with a forced smile.

He smiles and offers her a hand to help her up the ramp of the ship. “Of course, Captain Vaille. It's hardly permanent.”

He helps her settle and buckle in, then tells the pilot to head off.

“I'll see you off to my Brother. It's been too long since I visited, anyway.” The primarch says, sitting next to her as much as the small seats allow.

The ride to the surface of Fenris is short enough, and soon they are landing on the landing bays of The Fang, the massive mountain fortress that serves as the seat of the Space Wolves.

An icy blast has Wren clutching her new coat tight around her shoulders and shivering as the doors to the ship open. Guilliman chuckles, patting her back.

“That's why I got you a coat. Come, Leman should be around and he is terrible at sitting still, so we should be quick so he doesn't run off on us.” He says as he helps her down the ramp.

Her bionic leg, junky as ever, immediately tries to seize as the cold air plays havoc on the metal gears and hydraulic pistons. She gives it a couple whacks with the side of her fist and hobbles off after Guilliman.

They enter the Valgard, the uppermost structure of the fortress and the only place with ship bays. The rest of the fortress is in underground tunnels through the mountain. Thankfully the interior of the mountain is a bit more hospitable.

They walk through corridors of metal, wood and cave tunnels, with busy lifts moving Space Wolves and serfs around. Guilliman leads her through a massive, ornate room of pure granite, down a concerning lift, and through more halls until he stops at a door and knocks.

“Skítja, Who knocks in the Aett?” Someone curses in a rough voice, stomping to the door and flinging it open.

“What- Oh!” The Primarch goes from annoyance to joy in a flash. “Ah, Roboute, I was wondering who would be so formal, I forgot you were coming today.” He laughs.

Leman Russ is a couple feet taller than his brother, and grins down at him with a fanged smile. “Come, come- I was just rehashing defense nonsense.” He says, waving Guilliman in to the defense overlook. Wren, seemingly forgotten, scurries after their long strides into a smaller room of cluttered papers, books, scrolls, and maps laying across a table.

Russ flops onto a large wooden high back chair, leg over the arm, grinning and motioning for Guilliman to sit in a similar one. “So, you sent word of some sort of paperwork thrall?” He asks.

Guilliman chuckled under his breath as he sat, and Wren awkwardly stood beside his chair. They call Serfs thralls? That isn’t very reassuring, she thought to herself.

“Not quite, but yes. This is my assistant, Wren Vaille.” Guilliman introduces, and she gives a polite salute. “I want to offer her to you to do what she does for me- Paperwork, scheduling, some logistics, communicating on my behalf with other Primarchs…” he says, patting her back. “Clerical type work that you seem to need.” He adds, eyeing the piles of strewn papers with a tight frown.

Leman looks at her for the first time, eyeing her up and down, then quirks his head to the side in a way that can only be compared to a curious dog. “Where’d the other half of you go, girl?” He asks curiously.

Guilliman’s eyes go wide, “Leman, have some tackt-” he snaps softly, but Wren chuckles a bit. No one every even acknowledges her differences, let alone so boldly. It is always your condition and because of, well, you know.

"Long gone, I’m afraid.” She says with a small smile. “But I assure you I can work just fine with one eye and a bionic leg.”

Guilliman looks embarrassed, but Leman grins his sharp toothed smile at her. “Hah, well I’ll get a story out of you yet girl. No one loses and eye and a leg and walks away without a tale to tell.”

He hops up from his chair and walks over to her, standing close enough it forces her to crane her neck up. He looks her over, walking in circles around her and making her purse her lips nervously at the inspection.

“Any more of you missing?” He asks, bending down to look at her closer.

She raises her brow. “Uh- a kidney? On the left side, but otherwise no just the eye and leg…” she replies, stepping back a step as he gets close to her face.

He hmphs, then sniffs her, making her blush a bit.

Guilliman sighs. “Leman, she’s only here on a trial, please pretend to be civil for 5 minutes…?” He says, gently pulling Wren back toward himself by her shoulders.

Russ huffed through his nose. “What? I can’t smell her? You can tell a lot by someone’s smell.” He grumbled. “My sons will sniff her too, she may as well get used to it…”

Guilliman and Wren made a mirrored uncomfortable look, and Russ rolled his eyes. ”Fine fine. Tell me, thrall, can you fight still?” He asks, quirking his head to the side again.

Guilliman frowns. “She is here to help you file paperwork and make meetings, Leman.” He says sternly.

Russ frowns, furrowing his brow. “Well she obviously fought at some point- it is important to me that this secretary thing can follow me in dangerous places.”

Wren purses her lips. “I can fight, if needed. Not so well with shooting anymore, what with the eye, but, I can defend myself with melee and I can flee.” She says nervously.

He seems satisfied with that, smiling and giving a nod. “Good. We will get you back up in proper fighting shape so you do not get killed the second something looks at you.”

Guilliman sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose. “Remember, this is a trial, Leman. If you scare her off I’ll take her home.”

Russ scoffs, “If she is scared off, she would make a poor assistant to me.” He grins and claps her on the shoulder, making her leg whine mechanically as she stumbled a little from it. “You look sturdy, though, even for a female so small. Humans do not get that amount of scars from twiddling their thumbs.” He turns on his heel, heading for the door. “Come, paper-thrall, I have duties to attend.”

Guilliman lets out a tired sigh, then pats her back gently. “Thank you again, Wren. I’m always a messenger away, if anything happens and you want to return early, you need only ask.” He says gently. She smiles nervously, giving him a nod, before Leman calls again.

“Thrall! Come! I shall not wait for your tiny legs!”

She stiffens and scrambles out the door.