#and we know he was in an easy to find place

[magicbeardpowers]

The analogy I've landed on whenever I think "how can anyone be undecided?" is that a lot of people know about politics the way I personally know about football. I watch one game a year, the Super Bowl, mostly because it's also a family gathering for us. I find out who the teams are the week of. I pick one I want to win pretty arbitrarily, and often I'll start rooting for the team that's a little behind in he 4th quarter. I learn the names of specific players during the pregame interviews. I only know one guy's name because he's dating Taylor Swift, and I don't know what position he plays except it's not the quarterback because that's the position of the only other player I can still name. Long passes are fun to watch but driving up the middle seems boring and is completely indecipherable, and it doesn't seem to push forward very much so I don't know why they do it. I know very little about the actual rules of the game. "Holding" and "false start" are easy enough to get, but is there an offsides rule? Just typing this, I can't say with certainty how many points a touchdown is, just that the field goal after gets more points (4 points and 3 points? It seems like sometimes it's 7 points total but I swear I've seen multiples of six). How many yards is it actually to get a first down?

Meanwhile, I was at a trivia night last year where a whole category was to name the college football team exclusively from a picture of their helmets. Because giving more information would be too easy I guess. Most other tables got like 8 out of 10, many got more.

What I mean by this long football analogy is that we (the Democrats) need to get people interested in our candidates in a similar way the Super Bowl gets non football fans involved. Not literally funny commercials and a half time show, but it couldn't hurt. They also build narratives around their players too. "Can this older quarterback win his probably last Superbowl and get a record breaking number of wins under his belt, or will the younger quarterback come out on top and pick up his first ring?"

Time and again people approve of left or Democrat policies when they're not attached to Democrats. I've seen it mentioned in several places that my home state of Missouri both voted for Trump and voted to allow abortion and raise the minimum wage. If I remember right in 2020 Florida also voted for Trump while raising the minimum wage and legalizing marijuana.

I need to clarify that I am not trying to make a claim to moral superiority by saying "I know important things like politics instead of stupid football". I know about politics because I'm a nerd. These things are interesting to me in the same way I'm interested in the fiction I read and in the way football is to a lot of people. It's a matter of temperament, not character.

the lesson I'm taking away from this election is not that the Democrats need to become more left wing or more right wing but moreso that they need to find a way to cater their rhetoric towards people who genuinly have no idea what is going on. the target audience for every speech and political appearance should be someone who doesn't know what the three branches of government are because they were drawing a Cool S during high school civics

[starboye]

how i met roommate!vinnie hacker

you and him both needed to find a new place to stay after having to downgrade to a place for affordable for the california prices that were currently rising, meeting him at an open house for a very nice place, there was great space (a little to much if you ask me)

and after talking to each other for some time you both thought wouldn't it be such a great idea to just be roommates and split rent to make it more affordable, although maybe vinnie was in for a little something more with the way he was checking you out but maybe you're just imagining things

when moving in you both set some pretty easy rules, you both cleaned up, whats yours was yours and whats his was his, and if you make a mess clean it up, it was pretty easy going for a couple of months until you started to see a shift in vinnie, he wanted to be around you always, asking you to hang out with him or just talk with him

you didn't find it weird at first since you both lived under the same roof so you might as well get to know each other better, that was until some days you'd come home to hear him jerking off with the door to his room wide open, like he wanted you to find him or he'll wear pants that would show the outline of his meaty cock

very rarely although sometimes even he'd walk past you and slap or grab your ass then play it off as a joke he usually does with friends, that was until one night when he came home drunk out of his mind and started mumbling about how much he wanted to fuck you, how you looked so sexy and he jerked off to the thought of you every night

so was it really wrong you ended up having sex with him, it was just a little one night stand, that then turned into another night... and another... and another but can we really blame you, he's just so hot and that cock is to good to give up

so you both ended up making it a roommates with benefit kind of arrangement but if anyone asks vinnie what you guys are he'll tell them you're dating

[deusfoundry]

popstar!reader has actor!sylus completely wrapped around her pretty little finger.

so when you ask him to co-star in the music video of your album's single, slinking up to his bed one night dressed in one of his hoodies that makes you look like you're drowning in the thick fabric with those wide eyes and charming smile that turns him to putty in your hands, he happily complies. without so much as a question of what exactly he has to do, sylus nods and lets you thank him with a kiss.

you want him to act? he can do that. it's a craft that he lives and breathes, so it should be easy enough, right?

he arrives on set with you in tow, but you're quickly pulled into different dressing rooms by the stylists. he's handed a prisoner's uniform, slipping the costume on before sitting down and letting one of the make-up artists do their work, painting bruises on his face to make him look as scuffed as possible.

you've briefed him on the way here about his role. he's supposed to play a criminal, the gun-donning, bank-robbing, getting-into-fights-with-shady-men kind who's constantly in and out of prison. and you're his less than willing accomplice who begs him to stop fucking up.

with the few minutes he has before you two are called to start filming, he seeks you out in your dressing room. he knocks on the door, twisting the knob as he hears your sweet voice say "come in." inside, he finds that there's no one else in the room but you. you, and your blue, velvet mini dress that ends right around the middle of your thigh. there's a small sliver of skin that seems to tease him, while the rest of your legs are covered in black stockings.

sitting cross-legged on your chair, you greet him with nothing more than a smile and quiet "hey."

"well what do we have here?" sylus stalks towards you, footsteps slow and steady. "aren't you a pretty kitten?"

he plants both of his hands on either side of your chair, trapping you in place like a predator hunting his prey. his eyes travel down your body. he soaks it all in, one of his hands moving to caress your waist. there's a mischievous glint that flashes through your eyes when he takes your chin in his hand, urging you to look at him. the ghost of a smirk rests on your lips.

you're hiding something, might even be planning his demise as you're sitting pretty beneath him, but he doesn't care. not enough to stop himself from kissing you, at least.

he captures your lips in his, pulling you impossibly closer to him to deepen the kiss. you gasp when he gently yanks you up off your chair, turning you around and lifting you up so that you're sitting on the vanity of your dressing room. he wraps a strong arm around your waist. sylus' lips remain unrelenting as his hand begins to you fiddle with the lace of your stockings, fingers travelling up and slipping underneath the fabric of your dress.

sylus toys with your inner thigh for a while, squeezing and pinching at the flesh. when you whine a complaint against his lips, he does nothing to fight his low laugh.

he's about to grab the edges of your dress and pull the fabric up to your waist when-

"y/n? the director's looking for you. we're about to start filming."

you pry yourself away from his lips. sylus nearly whines. "hold on a sec! i'll meet you there."

in an instant, your whole demeanor shifts. gone was the blissful look on your face as you fix your hair. sylus is frozen, stunned. and as if he wasn't weirded out enough by how you're acting as if you didn't just want him to take you then and there, you give him a slight nudge on the shoulder, a silent plea for him to move aside.

when he doesn't respond- doesn't make a move to let you hop off the desk, you look at him with curiosity. it's accompanied by a hint of innocence as you tilt your head to the side.

"sylus? honey, we have to go."

except, sylus knows you're far from innocent in this scenario.

you minx.

you had this planned all along, letting him inside your dressing room, getting him all riled up, only to leave him high and dry.

and you thought you could get away with it.

how adorable.

sylus leans forward to speak directly to your ear, hot air fanning across sensitive skin. "don't think i'm done with you, sweetie. you should know what happens when pretty girls like you misbehave."

your breath gets caught in your throat as he gives your thigh one last squeeze before assisting you off the desk.

but you've never been one to back down after all. two can play this game, and you still have quite a few tricks up your sleeve.

[reidmania]

slow it down | s.reid

summary; when life feels like its moving too fast and you feel like you're falling behind, spencer is there to slow it down.

warnings; i kind of feel like this is occ.. fem reader, established relationships, feeling like your falling behind in life, overwhelmed, insecurity, comforting wise spencer, i lowkey feel like this is kinda cringe but IDK.. self reflection

an; um.. so i am so sorry for neglecting you guys lately.

You’re sitting on the edge of your bed, fingers tracing over a stack of old photos from years that somehow feel closer and farther away than they should. The soft morning light filters through the curtains, casting a warm glow over the room, but you can’t seem to feel it. It’s like you’re living in fast-forward, like everyone around you has figured out the secret to living, and you’re just scrambling to catch up. There’s a constant hum in the back of your mind, a quiet sense of urgency that keeps telling you, You’re falling behind.

And then there’s Spencer. Reliable, steady, intelligent Spencer, with his endless curiosity and his warm, steady gaze. Sometimes, you think he sees the world at a slower pace. He notices the way the trees change color in the fall, the way the clouds drift lazily across the sky, the way your breathing hitches when you’re overwhelmed. You’re not sure how he does it — how he lives in a world where time is patient, gentle even.

“Hey,” his voice breaks the quiet as he steps into the room, soft but firm, pulling you back to reality. “I noticed you didn’t sleep much last night.”

You give a small shrug, brushing the hair out of your face. “Just… thinking. That’s all.”

He sits beside you, close but not overwhelming, his presence grounding. “Do you want to talk about it?”

You’re not sure where to begin. There’s so much tangled up inside — the worry about where you’re going, the guilt of not doing enough, the fear that everyone else is moving forward while you’re stuck in place. It’s all too big, too heavy, and it clings to you like a second skin.

“Sometimes,” you say, staring down at your hands, “it feels like I’m watching everyone else live their lives at this… impossible speed. Like they’re running ahead, and I’m trying so hard to keep up, but I just… can’t.”

He watches you with that familiar look of quiet understanding, as though he’s absorbing every word. “I know it feels like that. But you’re doing more than you think, even if it doesn’t feel that way. Life isn’t a race, no matter what it seems like.”

You smile a little, but it’s strained. “Easy for you to say. You’re Dr. Spencer Reid. You’ve got three Ph.D’s.” It was unfair, you knew life wasn’t easy on him. He didn’t mind, he didn’t take offence at your insecurity.

His laugh is soft, a bit self-conscious. “It’s not always about how much you’ve done, you know. It’s about… what’s meaningful to you. And the world can feel fast because it’s busy and loud, but that doesn’t mean it’s moving faster than you can handle.”

You let his words sink in, wanting to believe them. He’s always been so good at that — seeing things in a way you can’t, finding meaning in moments you’d overlook. You think back to all those quiet mornings with him, sipping coffee while he reads, or the way he’ll point out little details in the most ordinary things. He lives with intention, like every second holds something worth noticing. “Teach me how to do that,” you murmur, almost to yourself. “How to… slow down, like you do.”

He shifts a little closer, his arm draping over your shoulders. “We can start now, if you’d like.”

“Here?” you ask, a little surprised.

“Why not?” He gives a small shrug, his fingers lightly tracing patterns on your shoulder. “The world outside can wait a little. Right now, it’s just us.”

So, you close your eyes, focusing on the warmth of his hand, the even rhythm of his breathing beside you. He begins to talk, softly, almost to himself, about the small things that make up the moment — the softness of the sheets, the faint sound of birds outside, the warmth of the sunlight coming through the window. It’s strange, hearing him describe the world like this, like a piece of poetry instead of a rush of responsibilities. And slowly, something shifts within you. You’re not sure if it’s because of his voice or his hand on your shoulder, but the weight on your chest starts to ease.

“Sometimes,” he says, “I think we get caught up in thinking life has to be monumental, or it has to mean something big. But there’s value in the small moments too, even the ones where you feel like nothing is happening.”

You open your eyes and look at him. His gaze is soft, steady, like he’s known this all along but has been waiting for you to see it too. “You really believe that?”

“More than anything,” he nods, his hand slipping down to intertwine with yours. “And maybe if we slow down, even just a little, we can find that there’s more here than we thought.”

He suggests you both go for a walk. At first, you resist — it feels like there’s no time for that. But then you see the gentle insistence in his eyes, and you let yourself give in. Outside, the air is crisp, and the leaves are beginning to change, painting the trees in vibrant shades of red and gold. You wouldn’t have noticed it on your own, but Spencer points it out, marveling at the colors like it’s the first time he’s seen them.

The path winds through a quiet park, and he takes his time pointing out things you’d usually ignore: the sound of a squirrel rustling in the bushes, the faint smell of pine, the way the sunlight filters through the branches. You begin to feel your mind quiet, your worries slipping away as you take in each small moment.

“See?” he says, smiling as he catches you watching a butterfly flutter past. “The world doesn’t have to be rushing by. We just have to choose not to rush with it.”

And for the first time in what feels like forever, you feel yourself relax. You’re not falling behind. You’re not racing to catch up. You’re just here, in this moment, with Spencer beside you, and that’s enough.

After the walk, you both settle into a quiet cafe nearby. There’s no agenda, no rush, just the simple joy of being together. You sip your coffee slowly, tasting it in a way you usually don’t, letting each sip warm you from the inside. Across the table, Spencer is reading a book, but every now and then, he glances up, meeting your eyes with a quiet smile. It feels easy, natural, as though the world outside the cafe doesn’t even exist.

The afternoon stretches on, a lazy, unhurried thing, and you find yourself wishing that every day could be like this — free from the pressure to be something, to achieve something. Just… peaceful.

“I think I could get used to this,” you say, looking out the window, watching people stroll by without a care in the world.

“Then let’s make it a habit,” he replies softly, reaching across the table to squeeze your hand. “Slow days. Just us. Whenever you need it.”

“Really?” you ask, a little surprised. “Even with your job? With everything you have going on?”

He nods, his gaze steady. “Life doesn’t have to be all or nothing. I want to be there for you. To be here, with you. No matter what else is going on.”

For the first time, you feel a sense of calm settle over you, like maybe — just maybe — you don’t have to keep running to be enough. That there’s space in this world for you to slow down, to take things one step at a time. And knowing that Spencer is by your side makes it all feel possible, in a way it never has before.

You lean across the table, resting your head on his shoulder, breathing in his familiar scent. “Thank you, Spencer. For… reminding me.”

He smiles, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of your head. “Always. Just remember, you’re not alone in this. I’m here, and we’ll figure it out together. One slow day at a time.

As you sit there, nestled against him, you let yourself believe that it’s true — that life doesn’t have to be a race, that you’re allowed to live at your own pace, to notice the small things, to savor each moment as it comes.

For the first time in a long time, you feel yourself slow down, the endless rush in your mind finally quieting. And in that silence, you find something you didn’t even realize you were missing: a sense of peace, of belonging, of knowing that right here, in this moment, you are exactly where you’re meant to be.

[justastraymoa]

Unwilling Alpha

Chapter 13

Masterlist

Warnings ⚠️ swears, abo dynamics, mentions of slave trade, mentions of rape, mentions of abuse, mentions of death, fear, manipulation. Mentions of blood and unaliving. Mentions of selling body parts and black market trade.

Nothing within reflects anyone or anything irl. Pics off pinterest.

◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇

Early the next morning a brand-new wardrobe was delivered. More clothes than I could wear in a year. As well as bags, purses, jewelry, hats, everything you could possibly think of.

“They got you the hook up! All the brands latest styles! I’m going to steal some of this.” I.N announced immediately, grabbing a couple items that caught his eye.

I laughed at his antics. “Sure, why not. I’m sure I’ll steal your clothes at some point.” I shrugged fingering through what was left. Some of this stuff isn’t too bad.” I was pleasantly shocked. The fabric felt different, and they all had name brands on them in some way, but they weren’t over the top. They looked- at least most did-casual and comfortable. Cozy. Exactly my style, but with a luxury name. J managed to find me – even in name brands. That man really is the best. He knew what was bothering me without me having to explain.

With a watery smile I hid my face in a Tommy Hilfiger t-shirt. Arms embraced me. “I hope those are good tears.” Changbin spoke into my hair.

I sniffed and nodded, lifting my head again. “J found me. Found a way to keep a part of me.”

Bin squeezed me tighter. “We will find a happy medium. Weve always done the impossible.”

“We do things our own way. We’re Stray Kids.” Chan put in.

Lee Know punched my arm gently. “You’re one of us now, Jagi.”

I sniffed again and let out a watery laugh, nodding my head. “Let’s go on tour.”

The Omegas cheered happily and reached out to touch me. Still smiling I wiped my eyes and got back to my new clothes, assessing. “I don’t have enough time to put everything away right now. Who wants to help me pick an airport outfit?” I asked, not even sure where to begin. The sheer number of clothes in front of me was overwhelming.

A pile of clothes was shoved into my arms. “Already done.” I.N stated dusting off his hands. He had come back from stashing the clothes he stole and apparently moved on to the task of my outfit.

I looked at the pile of clothes and shrugged my face. A nice, neutral set of grays and blacks in a mixture of brands-a couple I have never even heard of.

Hyun handed me a shoebox and a crossbody tote bag, oiling them on top of the mountain of clothes already in my arms. “You will need these too.”

“What do I need to pack?” I asked. This was my first time on tour with Stray Kids and I wasn’t really sure what I would need.

“Most everything is provided, but anything personal. Chargers, laptops and stuff like that. Books, stuffed animals, anything you think you may need.” Chan shrugged.

Easy enough. And I could fit everything in the bag Hyun chose for me, but I had to hurry. The van to the airport was due in an hour. The Omegas were already ready to go. They had this whole thing down to science. It was me that was holding them up.

Once we were on the way to the airport, I started to bounce my leg and chew on my lip. Seungmin had helped me with some light makeup, and I made my hair a big nicer than usual. But airports were a big deal. There would be cameras and screaming fans everywhere.

It’s my first time dealing with fans in person and not through the internet. And my first time in such a situation after announcing my subgender. Nervous is not the right word to describe what I was feeling.

Lee Know placed a hand on my knee and squeezed, stopping it from bouncing. “You’ll be fine. It’s just a walk through the airport.”

I snorted. “Hardly. It’s a whole ass show.”

“Stick close to us and your bodyguards. You will be safe.”

“I’m not worried about my safety, Lino, I’m worried about messing up and making you look bad.” It’s true. I wasn’t worried so much about my safety- though it was still a concern. Even though there were some scary comments and posts on social media no one seemed to be concerned about it, so I was taking my queues from them.

“Just be yourself. Everything else will follow.” Lino patted my knee twice. “You can’t do anything that would cause a huge issue. I mean – unless you punch a STAY. Don’t do that. Obviously.”

“There goes my whole plan of attack.” I rolled my eyes. I pulled and fidgeted with my clothes as we pulled up to the airport, making sure they were perfect.

Chan turned in his seat to address us. “Bin, Min, keep Y/N in between you. Do not leave her side.” Both Bin and Lino nodded seriously.

“Chan?” I was concerned by his very serious tone and the sudden extra precautions.

He smiled at me, but it was more strained than usual. “Theres nothing to worry about. I’m just being overly cautious.”

I 100% did not believe him. He was a terrible liar. There was more he wasn’t telling me. He was trying not to freak me out more, I’m sure, but I needed to know. I needed to be prepared as well. “Don’t keep me in the dark.”

Scrunching up his face and glancing out the window as we came to a final stop, Chan thought it over. I watched him patiently.

Seungmin huffed. “JYPE has received some threats against you.”

“Seungmin!” Chan snapped.

“She has the right to know! She isn’t dumb or helpless!”

“You could have broken it to her easier.”

“Hold on! When did this happen?” Hyun asked, cutting into the argument.

“You didn’t know?” I asked, relieved I wasn’t the only one left out of the loop.

There were murmurs and complaints overlapping. Apparently the only two people who knew were Chan and Seungmin. They kept it from everyone else. “Why didn’t you say anything sooner?” I was angry. Not only did they keep something from me, but Chan also just lied about it as well. Lied right to my face. “You lied to me. Do you think so little of me that you think I don’t deserve to know that I’m in danger? Did you think I couldn’t handle it?” I jerked away from Seungmin when he reached for me. The Omega looked crushed at the rejection.

“I made him keep it from you, don’t blame him. I just didn’t want to worry you more. I knew today would be hard enough already.” Chan defended himself.

There was a knock on the window. Security telling us to hurry it up. They were right, we needed to move, or we would miss our flight.

So, with one last glare at Chan, I snatched my bag and gestured for someone to open the door. Felix took the hint, leading the way.

Bin and Lino stayed true to their promise. Bin kept a secure, comforting arm around my shoulders, holding me close as we walked. Lino stuck close to my other side, brushing my arm occasionally to assure me that he was still there.

Security worked to keep fans back a respectful distance as they screamed. Some reached toward us, trying to get even the smallest touch. Some held signs or Skzoos-waving them erratically. Most held out phones, videoing or taking pictures as we went by, trying to follow us as far as they could. Professional paparazzi were allowed closer, snapping pictures with high powered flashes that left spots in my vision if I looked at them too directly.

Mostly I kept my head down and focused on not tripping over my own feet. Most everyone was focused on the boys, but I could make out some shouts aimed at me. More of what they’ve been saying online. “Go home Alpha trash!” “Go back to your masters, slave!” They were easy enough to ignore. It was nothing new and nothing I hadn’t expected.

What I hadn’t expected was the thick red liquid thrown at me from an unseen face in the crowd. The thick liquid was cold, like it had been refrigerated.

Freezing I gasped, the foul metallic smelling liquid covered my entire front. Dripped from my hair, chin, and clothes.

It was blood. I was covered in blood.

But not just any blood. This blood had a distinct unmistakable Alpha scent to it. I was covered with Alpha blood, and a lot of it. Too much for even one Alpha.

There was a flurry of chaos as security rushed us off and away from the crows. There were a couple of high-pitched screams as STAY realized what had happened.

Someone covered me with a jacket and Bin and Lino practically covered me with their bodies as we nearly ran to where security was shoving us.

I stared at my feet, mind completely blank except for the image of myself covered in some unknow Alpha’s blood. Some likely murdered Alphas blood was currently drying on my face and clothes. Soaking into my skin.

We stopped and the jacket was taken off me. Bins large warm hands engulfed my face and brought it up, so I was looking at him. It was then I realized he was talking - no yelling.

I focused on a large splash of blood on Bins cheek. Reaching up I wiped it off. “You have blood on you.” I stated blankly feeling light as air and heavy as a ton of bricks all at the same time.

I blinked and suddenly I was on my back, Chan hovering over me looking worried.

Irrational and intense anger overtook me, and I shoved Chan away. “Get away from me!” I shouted. Chan stumbled back and looked struck. “This is your fault! You should have told me! You should have let me be prepared!” I accused making Chan flinch slightly and look away. Some rational part of me knew that no amount of preparation could have stopped what happened, but I wasn’t feeling very rational right now.

Felix and Seungmin rushed in holding several items. “We got water and a change of clothes!” Felix handed me the bottle of water and sat next to me on the hard plastic loveseat I was laying on. WE were in a small plain room with only the loveseat I was on and two plastic chairs that matched it.

“Where are we?” I asked, taking a small sip of the water.

“A spare room the airport uses for searches.” Seungmin answered.

“Decided to actually tell me, huh?” I rolled my eyes and looked away from him. He was just as guilty as Chan and J, lying to me and betraying my trust.

“They have showers here, for travelers. If you hurry, you can shower off the blood.” Lino handed me a couple small bottles of soap.

I had managed to forget about the blood in the aftermath of fainting and my anger at Chan and Seungmin. But now I could feel the dried blood itching my skin and flaking off. My heavy-with-blood seater sticking to the skin under it. Smell the overwhelming scent of metal and Alpha. I felt sick.

“It’s a-its-the blood is-“ I couldn’t force the words out.

Lino nodded and Felix gripped my hand tightly. “We know, sweetheart.” He whispered.

I gulped and nodded holding up a bloody shaking hand. “I don’t…mmm-I’m not-I don’t know.” My voice shook as much as my hands did.

Hannie held out a hand for me to take. “Let’s get you cleaned up. Let JYP worry about the attack.”

I gripped his hand tightly and let him pull me up.

The shower helped calm me down and bring my thoughts and emotions back to neutral ground.

This attack was the cowardly action of a few individuals. They may not even be STAY. They could have just used this opportunity to complete their attack. To make me afraid.

They wanted me locked inside, taking care of the house, and doing everything to make more Alphas for them to use and exploit. They wanted me to hide.

But I spent most of my life hiding. Hiding who I was. Hiding from the world. I wouldn’t be terrorized into doing that again. They would not win.

So, they managed to buy some Alpha blood off the black market. Some slave trader killed their slave-worked then and used them to death. Or the Alpha unalived themselves rather than suffer. Either way they sold what they could of the Alpha to get some of their money back.

Then some sucker thought they needed to make a point, so they bought the blood. Probably at 10x what it was worth. Then decided to throw it on me like red paint at a fur protest. Gross? Yes. Sickening? Yes. Terrifying? Also, yes. But ultimately, they did not harm me or my Omegas. They most likely didn’t hurt anything but their bank account.

I rejoined the Omegas freshly cleaned hair damp and shower warm. The new clothes were from some souvenir shop in the airport, but they were soft and comfortable. And most importantly, not covered in blood.

“Are you okay?” Hyun asked perking up as soon as he saw me. He reached out and pulled me close, sticking his face in my hair and breathing deeply. I snuck a hand to the back of his neck and squeezed lightly.

“They won’t scare me away that easy. Let’s get this tour started.” I replied with a smirk.

◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇

General Taglist @stellasays45

Unwilling Alpha Taglist: @xxeiraxx @hanniemylovelyquokka @breadedloafs @songleepark @f1ln4dr3cl16mv33 @hyunjinhoexxx @kayleefriedchicken @vietjeb @hityoulikebahng @juju-227592 @ionlyeverwantedtobeyourequal @royal-shinigami @bangchansfavoritenoona @straykidslvr @bookswillfindyouaway @h0rnyp0t @Svmmerstime @jennibahng @kpopandmusicpassion @jasmin-loves-k-pop @cookey-lock @possum-playground @demigoddreamon-blog @rei-reia @dreamerwasfound @jasmin-loves-k-pop @ms-flowergirl @princess-sunshyn @technicallyimportantsweets @mbioooo0000 @jisungs-iced-americano @bluesoobinnie

[oliviasroses19]

Polin ramble coming in hot!

After it was revealed that Colin was helping Penelope find a husband, we have matching shots of each of them yearningly looking out the window.

We see Colin, having just read Whistledown, looking out across the square to the Featherington house. It’s a very short shot and it’s easy to just chalk it up to him being concerned for Pen. Which he is absolutely worried. She’s been utterly trashed in Whistledown, while he was left pretty much unscathed. Obviously this is because Penelope wrote it, but Colin doesn’t know this. So we have hero!colin who, in his desperation to fix his past mistake with Pen, has now created an entirely new and even worse situation for her. Colin has big feelings, guilt being the main one at the moment, that he has to compartmentalize and plan and work through before he does anything. He’s feeling like he squandered his chance to make things up to Penelope and may even be scared that he’s lost her again after barely getting her back. He most likely spent the entire day planning what he needed to say to Penelope, so by the time he actually does visit her, it is late in the evening. (There is also the risk of causing more scandal by calling on her, which is widely agreed upon within the fandom as to why he visits her at night.)

Then we have Pen, who is convinced she has ruined any prospect of marriage. She is taking the blame in this situation, having written what she did while leaving Colin as the innocent party. Enter Portia, who digs the knife in even deeper by pretty much telling Penelope that it was crazy to even think she had a chance at finding a suitor in the first place. Poor Penelope was already feeling low and to have her own mother confirm her fears is absolutely terrible to watch. She spends the rest of the day staring out her window accepting her fate as a spinster.

Until Colin shows up and now neither of them are looking out windows. They’re face to face and they are both feeling so much. Colin can barely get a word out before Penelope is asking him to kiss her.

(This is by far one of my favorite scenes to see analyzed and I am a firm believer that he absolutely did want to kiss her. We can use the book as reference to his inner thoughts as well as what we know of show!colin. My point in the next part can be taken however the reader would like to)

Is there a part of Colin who wants to kiss Pen? Absolutely. Is this a bad idea? Undoubtedly. Is this something he can give her when he has ruined her reputation not once, but twice now? Yes. Colin hates seeing Penelope upset, and if there is even the smallest chance this will make her feel better, propriety be damned, he’ll do it. He’s an “acts of service” guy through and through, which feeds his hero complex and insecurities that if he can’t do something for someone, what good is he to them. Unfortunately, this usually blows up in his face. In this instance, hero!colin makes an appearance, and it blows up in his face in the best way possible because holy shit he loves kissing her.

Consequences: 1,000

Hero!colin: 2 -1 because now he has to deal with yearning for Pen having now realized his feelings.

[cod-thoughts]

And he stood by and waited to be called

Word count: 3.7k Relationship: NikPrice, PriceNik, Nikolai/Price Tags: Established relationship, tooth-rotting fluff, surprises, anniversary

Price and Nikolai are supposed to be celebrating their anniversary today, what if Nik has to cancel last minute? What if he makes it up to Price anyway? Keep reading under the cut or on AO3 I've been working furiously on ghostprice week but i wanted to get something up before then so here we are! I just wanted some fluff and something wholesome its been a rough couple of weeks 0_0

John Price ran his fingers through his beard, inspecting it in the mirror under the bright, unforgiving bathroom light. He’d gone to the barber the night before, the guy taking care to trim his hair just right, shaping the beard until it was exactly the way Nikolai liked it. Price had watched in the mirror as the barber worked, the hum of clippers and the snip of scissors oddly soothing. He’d wanted it to be perfect, the kind of effort he didn’t make often, but today was special. It was for Nikolai, after all. The man who had waited, who had been patient through the endless nights apart, through the missions that had stretched longer than expected, through the calls that never came when Price got tied up in things beyond his control.

This morning, he’d taken his time getting ready, savoring every small step. He’d used that fancy beard oil Nikolai had given him on their last anniversary—the one with the cedar and sandalwood scent that Nikolai had said made him “smell like a forest, but a handsome one.” The words had stuck with Price, replaying in his mind every time he used the oil. He could almost hear Nikolai’s voice, that warm, affectionate tone, the way his eyes crinkled at the corners as he teased. It made Price smile to himself, a soft, private smile that lingered even as he moved through the rest of his routine.

He even went the extra mile, too, shaving away the rougher edges with a precision he hadn’t bothered with in a while, making sure every line was clean and crisp. The razor glided over his skin, the scent of shaving cream mingling with the cedar and sandalwood, and for once, Price allowed himself to enjoy it. This was, after all, their anniversary. Years of shared missions, flights, quick getaways, and late-night talks when the weight of command felt like too much, each adding up to something neither of them had ever quite expected. They’d found each other in the chaos, in the midst of everything else, and that was worth celebrating. It wasn’t just about the time they’d spent together—it was about the fact that they’d chosen each other, over and over again, despite everything.

After one last look, Price pulled his shirt collar into place, brushing his shoulders free of any stray hairs, adjusting the cuffs. It wasn’t fancy—not by a mile—but it felt good to put himself together just for the sake of it. For the sake of Nikolai. It made his chest swell with a quiet sort of pride, knowing that he could still find joy in the smallest of gestures, knowing that after all this time, Nikolai was still the one who made him feel like this.

As he strode out into the hallway, there was no hiding his uplifted mood. Gaz spotted him first, pausing with his coffee mug halfway to his lips, a grin slowly spreading across his face. “Captain… you look sharp.” His tone was playful but warm, with an edge of real surprise. Price’s grooming routine was normally more utilitarian—efficient, maybe a bit rugged, if he was lucky.

Soap, however, was less subtle. “Christ, look at you, Cap,” he said with a dramatic whistle. “What’s the occasion?”

Price rolled his eyes, but he could feel his face heating, which only encouraged them further. Gaz gave him a knowing smile, and even Ghost, leaning against the far wall, raised an eyebrow, catching his eye with an amused nod.

They knew, of course. It was no secret that Nikolai and Price were together. It hadn’t always been easy—Price had grappled with it for years, all those ingrained habits and fears from a past where he’d never felt able to be himself, to be openly happy like this. It had been Nikolai’s patience, his kindness, that had chipped away at those walls, showing Price that he didn’t have to keep that part of himself hidden.

Instead of keeping quiet or dancing around the subject, the team encouraged him, embraced him in ways that went beyond words. They teased him, sure, but it was with warmth, with affection that made Price feel lighter than he’d ever imagined he could. After all those years of thinking he had to keep that part of himself locked away, he was here—respected and accepted not just as a captain, but as a man with a heart that belonged to someone else.

Soap, however, wasn’t about to let him go with just a blush, and brought him out of his reverie with an excited shout, “Hey, we should give him an escort!” He looked around at the others, his grin widening. “Make sure the captain here arrives in style. After all, a bloke doesn’t get gussied up like that every day.”

Price chuckled, shaking his head. “Maybe I’m just overdue for a proper clean-up,” he muttered, trying to sound casual. But the small smile tugging at his lips betrayed him, and he knew it. There was no hiding his excitement—not from the team, not from himself.

---

The hours passed, each task feeling like both a distraction and a countdown. Price moved through his duties with a kind of restless energy, his thoughts drifting constantly to the evening ahead. Every so often, he’d reach into his pocket, his fingers brushing against the small, carefully tied pouch nestled there. He’d spent weeks searching for something that would be meaningful—something that would last. In the end, he’d settled on an old-fashioned pocket watch, the kind Nikolai had once mentioned fondly in passing. It wasn’t flashy, but Price knew it would suit him, a small reminder of them that could go wherever Nikolai did. It felt right—something timeless, something that held weight, just like what they shared.

He imagined Nikolai’s reaction, the way his eyes would light up when he saw it, the warmth in his smile when he realised what it meant. Price’s heart swelled at the thought, a small smile tugging at his lips as he made his way through the base. Each step felt lighter, each mundane task a little less tedious, knowing that at the end of it all, Nikolai would be there.

As the evening approached, he found himself glancing at the clock more often, anticipation bubbling just below the surface. He was ready early, his heart thrumming with excitement as he made his way back to his quarters. They’d planned to meet there—just the two of them, an arrangement that had quickly become a ritual on the rare occasions they both had the luxury of downtime. He paced his room, unable to sit still, a smile tugging at his lips as he imagined how the night would go. They’d share a quiet meal, maybe a drink or two, and just be together—no missions, no distractions, just them.

Then his phone vibrated in his hand. Price opened the message with a grin, expecting to see Nikolai’s usual playful greeting—only to feel his heart drop as he read the words on the screen.

John, I am sorry, my love. I will not make it in time. Got pulled into something last minute. I will make it up to you, I promise. Be safe. Love you, Mishka.

The excitement that had carried him through the day deflated, replaced by a heavy emptiness that settled deep in his chest. He stared at the message, rereading it as if somehow the words might change, as if maybe he’d misunderstood. But they didn’t change, and the ache that followed was sharp and immediate. He knew he should be fine with it. This wasn’t the first time duty had forced one of them to cancel plans, and he’d had to do it to Nikolai more times than he cared to admit. He knew the job always came first—had always come first. But somehow, the disappointment cut deeper today. Maybe because he’d let himself look forward to it so openly, maybe because he’d let himself believe that, for once, they’d have the time to themselves.

Price sighed, running a hand over his face, the freshly smoothed skin reminding him of the effort he’d put into this day, the way he’d hoped it would go. He tried to brush it off, tried to tell himself it didn’t matter, but the ache in his chest lingered. He’d wanted tonight to be special—not just for himself, but for Nikolai too. He’d wanted to give them both a moment to breathe, to remind each other why they kept fighting, kept coming back.

He let out a slow breath, pocketing his phone and trying to gather himself. There was no use dwelling on it—he’d see Nikolai soon enough, and they’d make up for the lost time as they always did. But the ache in his chest didn’t ease, not fully.

Price made his way to the rec room where the team were gathered around a table playing cards. The room was filled with the sound of their banter, the shuffle of cards, the occasional clatter of a mug being set down. Normally, it was a comforting noise, a reminder of the camaraderie they shared, but tonight it felt distant—like he was watching it all from the outside.

He started making a cup of tea, his hands moving on autopilot. The motions were familiar, almost comforting in their simplicity. As the kettle clicked, Gaz sidled up next to him, nudging him lightly. “Everything alright, Captain?”

Price forced a smile, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Change of plans,” he said, shrugging. “Nikolai’s not gonna make it anymore. Duty calls.”

Gaz frowned, glancing back at Soap, who was already watching Price with a sympathetic look. “Why don’t you come out with us?” Soap suggested, his voice unusually soft. “Just for a bit. Make a night of it, yeah?”

Price shook his head, his smile faltering. “Appreciate it, lads. But I’ll just finish up some reports. Been putting them off anyway.” He tried to keep his tone light, but even he could hear the strain in it. The last thing he wanted was to be a burden, to bring down the mood. The disappointment was his to carry, and he’d manage it as he always did.

He watched as the others exchanged glances but didn’t press. There was a kind of understanding in their silence, an unspoken support that made Price’s chest tighten. They cared, in their own ways, and even if they couldn’t change anything, they were there, grounding him with their steady presence. It was enough—it had to be enough.

They let him go with a quiet nod, and Price slipped into his office, burying himself in paperwork to fill the time, to ease the ache he didn’t want to admit was there. He worked through reports, reviewed mission details, anything to keep his mind occupied, but the hours dragged, each tick of the clock a reminder of what he was missing. By the time he finally called it a night, the disappointment had settled into a dull, familiar ache. He knew he’d see Nikolai soon—knew they’d make up for the lost time as they always did. But tonight, there was no denying the ache of that missing presence, the empty space that seemed to echo louder than ever.

By the time he finally headed back to his quarters, he’d resigned himself to an evening alone, the carefully wrapped gift weighing heavier in his pocket. He paused outside his door, taking a slow breath before opening it. He knew it would be empty, knew he’d have to wait a little longer to see Nikolai, but still, a part of him hoped.

As he opened the door to his room, he froze. There, standing by the bed with a small, mischievous grin and a bouquet of wildflowers in hand, was Nikolai.

Price blinked, his heart leaping at the sight. For a second, he could only stare, his mind racing to catch up with reality. The exhaustion of the day, the disappointment he'd pushed down, all seemed to vanish in an instant. He blinked again, as if to make sure this wasn't some tired trick of his imagination. But no—there Nikolai stood, just as real as the ache in his chest had been moments before, now replaced by an overwhelming rush of warmth.

Nikolai’s eyes crinkled at the corners as he saw Price’s stunned expression. “Sorry I did not message you again, I was in a rush,” he said, stepping forward, his voice softening. “I had to see this…handsome Captain, I am sure you understand.” He winked, his grin widening as he took in Price’s carefully put-together appearance.

Price’s heart clenched with something fierce—relief, love, gratitude—all of it swelled up at once, nearly making his throat tighten. He let out a breathless laugh, his lips curving into a smile that he couldn’t contain. Slowly, he stepped forward, his voice barely above a whisper. “You… how…?”

Nikolai closed the distance between them, the flowers still held loosely in one hand. “Did you really think I would miss this? Not when you put in this effort.” He reached out with his free hand, his fingers brushing against Price’s cheek, tracing the line of his freshly trimmed beard. “I’ve missed seeing you like this,” he added, his voice dropping to something more intimate, something just for Price.

For a long moment, Price could only stare, his heart swelling with relief and happiness as he took in the sight. Then, finally, he let out a quiet, breathless laugh, stepping forward and pulling Nikolai into a tight embrace. He buried his face in the crook of Nikolai’s neck, his voice muffled but thick with emotion. “You sneaky bastard.”

Nikolai laughed, his arms coming up around Price, holding him close. He pressed his face into Price’s shoulder, breathing him in, the familiar scent of cedar and sandalwood filling his senses. “Did you really think I would let you spend our anniversary alone?” he murmured against Price’s ear, his voice warm and gentle.

Price pulled back slightly, just enough to look Nikolai in the eyes. He could see the affection there, the sincerity in every line of Nikolai’s expression. It made his chest feel tight, and he swallowed hard, nodding. “No,” he said, his voice rough. “But I… I wasn’t expecting this.”

Nikolai smiled, lifting the bouquet between them. “I believe these are for you, Captain.”

Price chuckled, shaking his head as he took the flowers from Nikolai’s hand, brushing his fingers over the delicate petals. They were a little worse for wear, some petals bent, a few stems slightly bruised, but Price found it made them all the more perfect. They were real, just like this moment, like the man standing before him.

“Wildflowers, Nik?” Price asked, his voice laced with affection. “You know you didn’t have to…”

Nikolai’s smile softened, and he took a small step closer, his hand coming to rest on Price’s hip, his thumb brushing lightly against the fabric of his shirt. “No trouble, my love. Besides, I think they suit you. Strong, resilient… beautiful.”

Heat rose to Price’s face, and he looked away, huffing out a laugh. “You always know just what to say, don’t you?”

Nikolai came up behind him, arms wrapping around his waist, pressing his face into the side of Price’s neck. He took a deep breath, his voice rumbling softly against Price’s skin. “Only for you.” He pulled away slightly, just enough to spin Price around to face him instead. He pressed a kiss to Price’s lips—soft, lingering, full of all the words they didn’t need to say.

When he pulled back, Nikolai’s eyes were gleaming with mischief, and he whispered, “I cannot wait to unwrap my gift,” his gaze running up and down Price’s form, appreciation evident in his eyes.

Price chuckled, shaking his head. “Not quite,” he said, his tone teasing. He reached into his pocket, his fingers brushing against the small box there. “…or at least not yet,” he added quietly, holding it out to Nikolai. “I… I got you something.”

Nikolai’s eyes softened as he took the gift, his gaze flicking up to meet Price’s before he carefully unwrapped it. The wrapping was simple—Price hadn’t been one for extravagant touches—but it had been done with care, and that was what made it special. Nikolai peeled back the paper, revealing the small box within. He opened it slowly, and the soft click of the pocket watch filled the quiet room.

A look of quiet awe crossed Nikolai's face as he took in the pocket watch, its metal glinting in the soft light. He ran his thumb across the engraved initials on the inside, his eyes taking in every detail. There was a pause, a moment where the world seemed to still around them, and then Nikolai looked up, meeting Price’s gaze with an expression so full of love it made Price’s breath catch.

“John…” His voice was barely a whisper, thick with emotion as he ran his thumb over the watch’s surface again. He looked back at the initials, tracing them gently. “It’s perfect,” he said, his voice cracking just slightly.

Price felt his heart swell, the weight of the day’s disappointment finally lifting as he reached out, his fingers brushing against Nikolai’s. The warmth of Nikolai’s skin under his fingertips grounded him, the way it always did. He smiled, a real, genuine smile that reached his eyes. “Only the best for you, Nik.”

Nikolai took a deep breath, his gaze flicking back down to the watch, his thumb still tracing the initials. He closed the watch with a soft click, slipping it carefully back into its box before he looked back up at Price. “I will keep it with me always,” he said, his voice still thick with emotion, his eyes meeting Price’s. “Wherever I go, a piece of you comes with me.”

Price swallowed, feeling his throat tighten as he nodded. He couldn’t find the words to respond, not properly, so instead, he took a step forward, pulling Nikolai into another embrace. This one was different from the last—slower, more deliberate. He wrapped his arms around Nikolai’s shoulders, burying his face in the crook of Nikolai’s neck, and for a moment, everything else fell away. The weight of command, the responsibilities, the expectations—all of it faded, leaving just the two of them, wrapped up in each other.

After a long moment, Price pulled back, just enough to press a gentle kiss to Nikolai’s temple. When he finally let go, Nikolai smiled, a playful glint returning to his eyes. He reached into the bag he’d set by the bed, producing a small, aged bottle of whiskey. Its amber hue gleamed in the soft light as Nikolai held it up between them. “I did not come empty-handed either,” he murmured, his voice laced with that familiar warmth. “Thought we could have a proper toast, my love.”

Price’s face softened as he looked at the bottle, recognising the label immediately. It was the same whiskey they’d shared once before—on another night, one that had felt just as full of quiet understanding and love. He met Nikolai’s gaze, touched by the small gesture. “You remembered,” he said, his voice quiet.

Nikolai’s smile softened. “Of course I remembered.” He stepped closer, nudging Price gently toward the small table by the bed. “Now, let us toast properly, hm?” He poured a couple of inches into each glass, handing one to Price before raising his own. His gaze settled on Price, warm and unwavering. “To all our years, past and future, but there could never be enough time with you.”

Price felt a grin break across his face as he raised his glass, his heart swelling with a rush of affection. He clinked his glass to Nikolai’s, the soft sound filling the quiet room, and took a sip. The warmth of the whiskey spread through him, soothing the edges of the day, and he felt the tension that had lingered melt away completely.

They moved to sit on the edge of the bed, shoulders brushing as they savoured their drinks, the silence between them comfortable, filled with a quiet kind of joy. Price leaned into Nikolai slightly, their legs touching, the warmth of his partner grounding him in a way that nothing else could. He let out a content sigh, his gaze drifting down to where their hands rested side by side on the bed.

Nikolai seemed to notice the direction of his gaze, and with a soft smile, he set his glass down on the nightstand before reaching over, taking Price’s hand in his. He laced their fingers together, his thumb brushing lightly across Price’s knuckles in a slow, soothing motion.

Price turned to look at him, his chest tightening with emotion. There were so many things he wanted to say, but as he met Nikolai’s eyes, he realised he didn’t need to. Everything he felt, everything he wanted to say, was already there in the way Nikolai looked at him, in the way he held his hand, in the warmth of his touch.

Slowly, Nikolai leaned in, his forehead resting gently against Price’s. “I love you, John,” he whispered, his voice barely audible, as if the words were just for the two of them and no one else.

Price closed his eyes, his heart swelling with a warmth that filled every part of him. He squeezed Nikolai’s hand gently, his voice equally soft as he replied, “I love you too, Nik. More than anything.”

For a long moment, they stayed like that, their foreheads resting together, their hands intertwined, the world outside forgotten. There was no rush, no need to move or speak. Everything they needed was right there, in the quiet space between them, in the love they shared.

When they finally pulled back, Nikolai grinned, his eyes glinting with mischief once more. He nudged Price gently, his voice dropping to a playful murmur. “Can I still unwrap you?”

Price let out a breathless laugh, shaking his head as he pulled Nikolai closer, their noses brushing. “Not arguing with that,” he replied, his voice low and affectionate.

Nikolai’s grin widened, and he leaned in, capturing Price’s lips in a kiss that was soft and slow, filled with the promise of everything still to come. Price melted into it, his arms wrapping around Nikolai’s waist, his heart full to the brim.

In that quiet, stolen moment, everything felt right. The world outside could wait a little longer; tonight, this was all they needed.

[yourbiggestcrybaby]

Dark Side

Tom Riddle X Reader

Tom is aware you have come from a school where the dark arts are taught. He knows you can help him and he knows just how to convince you

Warnings: slight manipulation, dark arts

The restricted section of the library was quiet. Tom watched you scan the shelves, an amused smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. You were so focused, so intent on finding something in these dusty old shelves. He knew what you were searching for, even if you didn’t know it yourself yet. Power. Knowledge that Hogwarts would never hand over to you willingly.

He let the silence stretch before stepping forward, making sure his footsteps were just loud enough to be heard. Predictably, you spun around, masking the flicker of surprise in your eyes almost as quickly as it appeared. A good sign. You were sharp, quicker than most, but Tom wasn’t worried about that. If anything, it made this more interesting.

"Looking for something forbidden, are we?" he murmured, keeping his voice low, watching you like a hawk. He saw the slight shift in your expression, the hint of wariness. Perfect. You were already on guard, already trying to figure him out. Good, he thought. Be curious. That’ll make this so much easier.

“Tom,” you replied, your tone carefully neutral. “Didn’t expect anyone else here.”

He smiled, just enough to put you off balance. “Ah, yes. You wouldn’t,” he replied smoothly, moving in closer, careful to make his steps calm, unthreatening. He had a knack for knowing when to press in and when to pull back, a skill that had already gotten him access to more knowledge than any other student his age. This was no different.

As he approached, he let his gaze drift to the book you’d picked up, one you’d clearly grabbed on impulse. The wrong choice, but he’d let you realize that on your own. Instead, he raised an eyebrow, amusement in his voice. "Interesting choice,” he said lightly. “But I’d think someone with your background would be interested in… other texts.”

He saw the faint flicker of unease in your eyes, the way you adjusted your grip on the book. So, he thought with a flash of satisfaction, it’s true. Your dark arts training didn’t fade as quickly as Dumbledore had hoped. He watched your expression carefully, knowing that his mention of your past would strike a nerve. It always did. People who came from the darker schools always felt that edge of suspicion in places like Hogwarts, the feeling of being an outsider, of hiding something.

“Maybe I am,” you replied, cool but not defensive. Not bad, he thought. You were trying to keep him at a distance, trying to keep control of the conversation. But you wouldn’t last long. He’d made sure of that.

“Oh, I have no doubt about that,” he said, a hint of intrigue in his voice. He let his tone stay casual, almost amused, but not enough to hide the curiosity in his eyes. He’d learned early on that interest was a powerful tool; people always responded to the thrill of being noticed. “But Hogwarts might not have what you’re used to. Not openly, anyway.” He watched you closely, seeing the way his words drew you in. “Still, you know the things taught where you are from aren’t forgotten here. If anything, they’re just… hidden better.”

The way you studied him then, the hint of resistance, it was clear you weren’t going to give in easily. He almost smirked. Good, he thought, his pulse quickening. It’s always more interesting when they resist.

“And why are you so interested in my old curriculum?” you asked, your voice still light, but he could hear the guarded edge.

He leaned back a little, letting his posture go easy, almost dismissive, knowing how much more effective that would be than anything intense. “Oh, I’m not interested in that,” he said, shrugging slightly. “I’m interested in you.” He let that sink in, watching as the idea took root. “A student who actually knows what magic can do beyond the harmless charms and tricks we’re taught here. I’d think you know spells and techniques that others couldn’t even imagine.” He paused, just long enough to watch your expression shift. “Which, naturally, would make you quite valuable.”

Valuable. That word always worked. It was true, after all, though not in the way you might have thought. Tom’s mind was already racing, already calculating how he might use what you knew, what you dark school had taught you. And the best part was that you wanted this power, even if you hadn’t fully admitted it to yourself. That hunger—it was just under the surface, buried behind all the polite airs and restraint you wore. He’d seen it in the way you looked at certain spells in class, the ones that made the others shrink back in fear. He knew exactly how to draw that side of you out.

“Valuable?” You raised an eyebrow, keeping your tone casual. “And you think you’re the one to show me how?”

He almost laughed. Predictable, he thought. You wanted to believe you could see through him, that you weren’t impressed. But he could see it in your eyes, that flicker of curiosity. He tilted his head, letting his gaze sharpen, his expression just serious enough to make you feel like he was seeing something no one else could. “I think you have a potential that most at this school couldn’t even comprehend. Power that few would understand.” He paused, as if measuring his words carefully. “You could accomplish so much, if only you'd... let go of certain reservations.”

He watched as your expression shifted, and he knew he’d struck a chord. Yes, he thought, his pulse quickening again. Let that sink in. It was always the first step. Plant the seed, make them doubt their limitations. After that, it was only a matter of time before they came to him willingly, before they were willing to do anything he suggested.

“I know you don’t believe in the rules, not really,” he continued, his voice calm and coaxing. “And Hogwarts isn’t giving you what you need. Not truly. They’re holding you back, but you’re far too intelligent to let the Ministry’s silly morals stand in your way.”

He could almost see the thoughts racing in your mind, the way you were weighing his words, considering the possibility of everything he was offering. Yes, he thought, pleased. Think about it. Let it fester.

[natequarter]

father-kreinerdeactivate660384

theddoctor adbandoned me.ffeling a wreck today 👍

🗡️ worsthumanongallifrey Follow

and a coward. abandon him back

#if it sucks... you know what they say #cute husband is preferable but not essential

1 note

🗡️ worsthumanongallifrey Follow

feeling like shit turns out it sucks when you're the one who's abandoned.

#maybe i will be abandoning him back!!!

854 notes

🦎 crizzless Follow

literally what even is time

🎻 the–adventurer8 Follow

i forgor 💀

6 notes

🏏 the--adventurer5 Follow

I actually quite Aberdeen. Nice place to play cricket. Not the sort of place I'd be tempted to abandon anyone in.

📑 anordinaryjournalist Follow

Oh is it now

🏏 the–adventurer5 Follow

Yes! Though really, I much prefer Ascot. And also when it's not overrun by clones of the Master, like it is right now.

#It's hardly my fault if he trips and gets burnt to death in the massive barbecue he rigged #honestly it would be quite satisfying

17 notes

☠️ lady---me Follow

if i were the doctor i would simply not get people killed. lol. lmao even

#it's that easy!!!

77 notes

👑 fred Follow

can i be real with you all i'm really not into crazy telepathic sex. yes on the crazy telepathic sex website i know

👑 fred Follow

IN FANFICTION. IN FANFICTION. THIS POST IS ABOUT FANFICTION.

#idk i'm just struggling to find a good spin on it in this particular wip #is that so wrong of me #sighhh

27,349 notes

🪖 unit-official  Follow

the brigadier is posting about his favourite war films on timeblr this is literally so embarrassing!!! someone shoot me!!!

😎 betteryatesthannever Follow

WRONG BLOG WRONG BLOG WRONG FUCKING BLOG

#SOMEONE SHOOT ME!!! BEFORE I JOIN A CULT!!!

497 notes

🪖 unit-official  Follow

We regret to announce that Captain Michael Yates has sadly joined a cult. Please have his loved ones in your hearts at this difficult time.

#mod jo #why will no one else use the tags :((( we have tags guys #they're fun i promise

56 notes

😇 jojogrant Follow

so what's that now? zero days since our last cult?

😇 jojogrant Follow

oh thank goodness the doctor got him out

#the brig's got the gin out again #the brig's an alcoholic and #well #i'm starting to think so's the doctor #he keeps on just chewing ginger #it's... very disturbing

21 notes

[meo-eiru]

I kinda like the small yet big detail in the game, like I'm sure myself and some other people were expecting a wholesome dating sim that would also get quite spicy (FROM HOW WE KNOW MERU)

And we all just kinda got kicked in the butt, like Starling being too hot to be true yet so terrifying at the same time, but not the terrifying kind that we know, like Micah or Silas etc

More like the type that makes you forget that he still is more a siren than a merman, like he successfully managed to lure in the whole community with his hot ass😭😭and then we get backstabbed by him munching our fingers off as if they're some carrots, like as a simple lunch snack-💀💀

Or in the other ending where it's basically simply Mae dying and getting turned into a possession and probably just another body to fill up with tongues

From my interpretation, Starling doesn't really have that kind of romantic interest in Mae, but she kinda thought it could go into that direction, but then got stabbed in the back like that😭😭(probs everyone who played it, thought like Mae there too kinda💀so we all got the betrayal🙁)

And you guys did a really good job in simply catching us all off guard in most scenes, it's it's beautifully written and drawn, I love that game so much!!!

Spoilers for the game

Honestly maybe Sel would give a different answer but I do think Starling likes Maelyn. Due to his past and what he has now become his way of showing it is probably different, but for Starling I don't think Maelyn is just another body for storing tongues. If that was the case he wouldn't have went out of his way to clean her body up, find a wedding dress and "marry" her in his own makeshift way.

He probably didn't even view it as a betrayal. Because until the very end Starling was making sure the no longer breathing Maelyn could be comfortable in her pearl necklace.

For the writing style, probably Sel writing the story played a big part in this.

Sel and I have very similar tastes in a lot of things, on levels I myself can't believe sometimes. But we do have a different style at how we depict similar concepts.

I love presenting dark stories on a silver platter. Prettied up with the most delicious icings and shiniest sprinkles. I like my stories and characters to look beautiful. Enjoy them while thinking you're just having whimsy adventures only to realize you're done for once you truly look. Like Silas. It's easy to make fun of him, forget the things he is capable of doing as you're too busy enjoying his silliness. He feels safe, a gentle giant who loves and takes care of you.

But he's still a man who has forced himself on you not only physically but also mentally. Trapped and limited you beyond belief. No electricity, no internet, no contact with anyone other than him. Only talking to him, only feeling him, only knowing him, only consuming him. A beautiful and sweet man no human mind can handle for more than a few weeks.

But Sel, from what I've seen, is a bit different. She doesn't shy away from showing the darkness and scariness of the stories she makes. Before you even know it you'll be facing concepts you didn't think could be possible.

And not only that, she hides so much under every word she uses. Often times the things she places in front of you are not even the scariest parts. The more you read and the more you decipher they get deeper.

I'm frankly a big fan of the things she writes. They often leave me flabbergasted (and mortified, she knows what I mean) but they are also so so fun. So scary yet beautifully poetic.

I know she doesn't like being under the spotlight that much. But ever since I met her and saw her stories I wanted more people to get the chance to see and appreciate them the way they deserved. I think they are truly special, and they make me want to do my best to illustrate them in the perfect way possible.

Honestly I'm not sure if I'm good enough at it, but if it helps the stories reach more people I'm happy with it.

I don't know if she'll read this post so that's why I'm being sappy like this but I genuinely hope you guys like her stories like I do. And I hope both you and I can see more and more of it.

[movingmusically]

Caught Feeling - Chapter 14

Synopsis:

The morning after Hank’s confessions, Y/N senses a shift in their relationship, both strengthened and delicately altered by what he’s shared. They indulge in a day cocooned from the world, wrapped in quiet intimacy. As they rediscover each other’s touch, the bond between them feels stronger than ever, leaving Y/N basking in a newfound closeness she hadn’t anticipated.

Word count: 8,617

Masterlist

The morning light filtered softly through the blinds, casting gentle, fragmented patterns on the walls. I lay there, tangled in sheets and silence, my mind still retracing the lines of Hank’s confessions from last night. Every word, every hesitant glance, each rough-edged moment had settled into me like pebbles dropped into a pond, creating ripples I couldn’t still. Each memory hovered just beneath the surface, stirring emotions I was only beginning to name.

It wasn’t like Hank to share things so openly—not like this. He’d built his own fortress over the years, thick walls crafted from unspoken hurts and old wounds, carefully fortified and guarded. But last night, he’d let me glimpse beyond them, allowing me to see the scarred pieces he usually kept locked away. Piece by piece, he’d handed me parts of himself that felt weathered and raw. I wanted to believe that sharing his past had lifted a weight from him, that he felt lighter now, freed somehow. But the way he’d held me after—the tightness, the quiet—made me wonder if he felt exposed rather than unburdened, as though he’d given away something he didn’t know if he could ever take back.

His secrets now lived in the space between us, shifting the fragile foundation we’d built into something both stronger and shakier all at once. I could feel the weight of them pressing into the silence, settling in the creases of the sheets, sinking into my own heart. It felt as if we’d crossed some invisible line, leaving the easy familiarity of before behind us. And yet, the warmth of his body next to mine, his steady breathing, the feel of his hand still wrapped around mine—it all grounded me, a quiet reminder that whatever this was, we were in it together.

Eventually, he stirred, blinking slowly as he adjusted to the morning light. For a moment, he looked at me, his gaze still carrying the shadows of last night, the memories still close enough to feel in the early morning quiet. There was a vulnerability there, a quiet hesitance that made me realise he was still trying to piece everything together, still finding his way back from the place he’d allowed himself to go.

“Didn’t think I’d sleep at all after…all that,” he murmured, a soft, uncertain smile tugging at his lips. “Guess I was wrong.”

I returned his smile, feeling a familiar warmth in my chest, something reassuring in the simple honesty of his words. “Maybe that’s a good thing. Sometimes…letting it out is what we need most, even if it doesn’t feel that way at first.”

He nodded, his gaze lowering for a moment as if considering, his fingers tightening slightly around mine before he looked up again, his eyes meeting mine with an intensity softened by a hint of doubt. “Feels strange, though. Like…I handed you all these pieces and don’t know how to put them back together.”

“You don’t have to, not alone,” I replied gently, my hand resting between us in the space that felt both close and infinite. “I’m here. For all of it.”

He gave me a look that held a thousand unspoken words—gratitude, fear, maybe a flicker of relief. For a few heartbeats, we just stayed like that, searching each other’s faces, and I could feel the distance between us shrinking, inch by inch. There was something in the way he looked at me—like he was seeing parts of me even I hadn’t fully discovered yet. It was terrifying and thrilling all at once.

His fingers brushed lightly against mine, his touch tentative but steadying, as though testing the reality of it all. In sleep, he’d looked almost boyish, the weight of his past hidden away. Now, in the light of day, he seemed both softer and stronger, as though the openness from last night had reshaped him in some unnameable way, something both fragile and enduring.

Without thinking, I let my hand move, reaching out to gently trace the curve of his eyebrow, feeling the warmth of his skin beneath my fingertips. His eyes softened, his breathing slowing as if settling into the quiet rhythm between us. He didn’t move, letting me take the lead. My fingers drifted down, following the line of his cheekbone and along his jaw, where rough stubble met the softness of his skin. The feeling was familiar but electric, each touch revealing something new, something I hadn’t noticed before, like he’d always been waiting for me to look closer.

A few stray strands of hair had fallen across his temple, softening his usually sharp features. I reached up, hesitating for just a second before tucking the hair back behind his ear, the gesture so natural it felt like breathing. It was something he’d done for me countless times, a quiet intimacy that now felt strangely reverent with the roles reversed.

He looked at me with an openness I wasn’t used to, something soft and vulnerable lingering in his eyes, and my heart clenched with a mix of emotions I couldn’t quite name. Slowly, tentatively, I leaned forward, letting my lips press gently against a faint freckle on his cheek, feeling him exhale softly as if even that small touch lifted something from him, letting him know he was seen, he was safe.

I kissed each tiny mark, tracing an invisible path across his skin, each kiss a silent promise, a quiet assurance that I was here, that he didn’t have to put himself back together alone. When I pulled back, his eyes held a warmth that felt like sunrise, steady and reassuring, a look that said he knew I meant every word I’d promised.

And as we lay there, tangled in each other and the soft light of the morning, I knew we had something real. Something worth holding onto.

Hank shifted slightly, his arm tightening around me as he settled into the quiet comfort between us. His voice was soft, still thick with sleep, as he murmured, “I don’t have to be back at work until Monday night. So…looks like we’ve got the whole weekend together.”

A warmth spread through me, gentle but thrilling, as I met his gaze. The thought of having him all to myself for two whole days felt both rare and perfect. I leaned into him, closing the small distance between us, my fingers brushing lightly over his as I let the quiet anticipation settle around us.

For a moment, neither of us moved, simply soaking in the closeness. His thumb stroked a soft, idle pattern on the back of my hand, a touch that felt like a silent promise. I brought our entwined hands up to my lips, pressing a gentle kiss to his knuckles, my eyes meeting his with a soft smile.

“Bud’s probably wondering why breakfast is late,” I said softly. “Stay here,” he murmured, his voice low and warm, as though he couldn’t bear the thought of even a brief separation. His fingers tightened around mine, a gentle but insistent pull that made me want to sink back into him completely.

I smiled, lingering just a heartbeat longer, and then shook my head with a playful sigh. “I’ll only be a minute. Bud needs me too.” I slipped out of his arms, feeling his reluctant release as I slid out of bed. He groaned playfully, flopping back onto the pillow, but his eyes followed me, a warm, sleepy gaze that made me want to hurry through the task just to return.

I padded to the kitchen, where Bud waited with a patient stare, rubbing against my leg as I filled his bowl. “Alright, big guy,” I murmured, stroking his head before setting his food down. He purred contentedly, and I couldn’t help but smile at his simplicity—the straightforward needs of a cat, so different from the tangled emotions swirling between Hank and me.

The second I returned to the bedroom, I felt the pull of his presence, something soft and magnetic. Hank had shifted, lying on his side, arm outstretched in invitation. I climbed back into bed, and he wrapped himself around me, pulling me close until I fit perfectly against him, my back to his chest, his arm draped over mine.

We lay there, bodies pressed together, warm and secure. His fingers intertwined with mine, holding gently, his thumb tracing lazy circles on the back of my hand. I could feel his breath against my neck, each soft exhale centring me, drawing me deeper into the quiet intimacy of the moment.

“This,” he murmured, his lips close to my ear, “this is all I need.”

I smiled, closing my eyes as I settled into his embrace, letting myself be completely held. The weight of his arm across me, the warmth of his skin against mine—it felt like a kind of trust, a silent promise that didn’t need words. I nestled closer, feeling his steady heartbeat against my back, a rhythm that seemed to match mine, syncing us in a way that felt new and yet completely natural.

Neither of us spoke for a while, letting the silence carry us, content just to be close. The world outside felt distant, unimportant, as if this bed, this room, was the only place that mattered. His fingers brushed up and down my arm in soothing strokes, and I felt myself relaxing even more, sinking into the softness of the morning.

Eventually, he whispered, “I could stay like this forever.”

“Then don’t move,” I whispered back, a smile playing at my lips.

His hold tightened just a little, as though he wanted to anchor me here, to keep me in this moment with him. I felt his lips press a soft kiss to my shoulder, the touch featherlight but filled with so much warmth that it made my heart ache in the best way. In the stillness, there was a tenderness that made time feel irrelevant, and as we lay there, I knew this was a memory we’d both hold onto—a morning where the world felt far away, and we had nothing but time.

Time passed in a quiet blur, marked only by the steady rise and fall of our breathing, the faint sounds of the world just beginning to stir outside. Every now and then, his hand would shift, fingers grazing my arm or drawing small, aimless patterns along my skin, as though he wanted to memorise the feel of me, of this moment.

At one point, he shifted slightly, resting his chin gently atop my head. “I don’t think I’ve ever done this before,” he murmured, the vulnerability in his voice pulling at something deep within me.

“Done what?” I asked softly, letting my hand cover his where it lay draped over me.

“Just…lay here. Doing nothing. Letting it be enough,” he said, a quiet wonder in his voice, as though the simplicity of it both puzzled and amazed him.

A soft smile curved my lips, and I turned just enough to catch his gaze, my eyes reflecting everything I couldn’t quite put into words. “Then let it be enough, just this once.”

He held my gaze, his fingers lacing with mine as he drew me back against him, his arm wrapping around me with a gentle but steady hold. I felt his chest press warmly to my back, his breath brushing against my neck in a way that felt intimate and safe, as if he was anchoring me to this moment.

Slowly, I turned my head just enough to close the distance, my lips finding his in a kiss that was soft and steady. His hand tightened around mine, and I could feel the warmth of his smile against my mouth, a quiet reassurance that we both felt the same pull. His thumb brushed gently over my knuckles, the movement small but filled with so much tenderness it made my heart ache.

When we finally pulled back, he nestled his face into the curve of my shoulder, pressing a light kiss to the back of my neck. The simple gesture sent a shiver through me, anchoring me deeper in the closeness we shared, with no need for words or explanations.

He pulled me even closer, his arm tightening around my waist, our fingers still intertwined. His hand rested just over my heart, where he could feel each steady beat, matching his own. In his embrace, I felt completely safe, as if time had slowed to give us these rare, unhurried moments of peace.

The world outside became a distant hum, unimportant and quiet, as though it had taken a step back, giving us the space to just…be. In the warmth of his arms, I felt my eyes grow heavy, lulled by the steady rhythm of his breath, and I let myself drift back to sleep, content and weightless, held in a moment that felt endless.

As I stirred awake, the morning light was still soft, casting warm hues over the room. Hank’s arm was wrapped securely around me, his chest pressed against my back, a comforting weight that kept the outside world at bay. I lay there, sinking into the feel of him, the quiet intimacy settling in my bones.

A slight movement from him brought me back into awareness, his fingers tracing gentle circles on my stomach. I shifted slightly, and his arm tightened around me, his touch becoming more deliberate. His breath, warm against my neck, sent a shiver through me, and my lips parted in a soft exhale as he brushed a tender kiss along the curve of my shoulder.

I felt him then, his arousal pressing against me, solid and real, and instinctively, I pressed back into him. He responded with a low murmur, his hand sliding up my side, fingertips grazing my skin as though he was memorising every inch. He continued his slow, reverent kisses along my shoulder, up to the base of my neck, his mouth lingering, each press of his lips soft but loaded with intent.

My pulse quickened as his hand moved higher, grazing the side of my breast. His fingers brushed my skin with a gentleness that made me ache, his touch unhurried, as though he wanted to savour every moment. I leaned back into him, letting myself be held, feeling the steady beat of his heart against my back, our breaths syncing in a quiet rhythm.

Hank’s hand moved over my breast, his palm warm as he cupped me gently, his thumb ghosting slow circles over my nipple, which hardened instantly under his touch. I closed my eyes, absorbing the sensations as a soft moan escaped my lips, my hand finding his, lacing our fingers together as he continued his slow exploration.

He pressed another kiss to my shoulder, his mouth soft, lingering there as if he was pouring every unspoken feeling into that touch. His other hand drifted lower, slipping over my hip, his touch light but intentional as he guided my leg forward, opening me to him. My breath caught as I felt him adjust behind me, the unmistakable press of him against me, filling me with anticipation.

Slowly, I reached down, my fingers trailing along my body until they found his, and together, they guided him into place. I felt the warmth of him, the promise of his body ready to join mine, and a thrill ran through me as my fingers brushed both my own heat and his hardness at the same time. I lingered there, touching myself while feeling him, the dual sensation heightening the intimacy of the moment.

Hank moved slowly, his hands steadying my hips as he eased himself forward, filling me inch by inch, his breath a warm whisper against my neck. We moved together in a rhythm that felt as natural as breathing, my body adjusting to his, meeting him with a softness that felt both tender and grounding. His fingers continued their slow circles on my skin, reassuring, each touch a silent promise.

My hand found his at my waist, and I entwined our fingers, holding on as he moved within me, his thrusts slow and deep, as though he wanted to savour every second of our connection. I leaned back, letting myself feel him fully, feel the reaffirming way he held me, the way he moved with me as if this was exactly where he belonged.

We stayed wrapped in that gentle, unhurried pace, our breaths and heartbeats becoming one, our bodies speaking all the words we didn’t need to say. I reached back, running my fingers through his hair, pulling him closer until I felt his lips against my shoulder again, pressing kisses that felt reverent, anchoring.

With each slow, deep thrust, I felt myself surrendering more to the rhythm we’d built between us, each movement drawing me closer to him. His hand drifted to my hip, gripping me firmly, pulling me to him as he pressed himself deeper, filling me in a way that felt like he was leaving a part of himself with every motion.

A soft, needy sound escaped my lips, and in response, he tightened his hold on my hip, pulling me closer still, pressing his mouth to the curve of my neck. I could feel his breath, warm and heavy, before his lips found my skin, grazing and then pressing, a kiss that lingered and grew into something more. His mouth worked softly at first, but as his teeth grazed and his lips closed around my skin, I knew he was marking me, leaving something behind that felt like both a claim and a promise.

Ordinarily, I’d shy away from something so visible, but now, wrapped in the warmth of his arms, I wanted it—I wanted him to leave a trace of himself on me, something to carry with me beyond this moment. I tilted my head slightly, offering him more of my neck, feeling a thrill run through me as his mouth pressed harder, drawing a soft moan from me, his mark imprinted on my skin in a way that felt both possessive and tender.

My hand drifted down, fingers finding the heat between my legs, touching myself with a gentle, circling motion, heightening each sensation as his body moved in sync with mine. I felt the rush of warmth build under my fingertips, every touch sending ripples of pleasure through me. My hand slid further down, fingers brushing over where he entered me, feeling the firm, steady rhythm of him moving in and out, a connection that felt so profoundly intimate it made my breath hitch.

Hank’s grip on my hip tightened, his rhythm growing just a fraction deeper, each thrust deliberate and affirming, as though he wanted to imprint this moment on both of us. My breathing quickened, and I pressed my fingers harder against myself, the pleasure building into something urgent, something I couldn’t hold back.

I could feel him tense behind me, his breath heavy and uneven against my neck, his mouth still grazing the mark he’d left, his hand tightening on my hip as if to steady himself. The sounds he made, soft and barely restrained, were like a whisper of everything we felt but didn’t need to say. And as my body moved closer to release, he matched each movement, guiding me there with him, his every touch a promise that he was right there, holding me, carrying me through.

I felt the wave crest, my body clenching around him, my hand pressing harder as I spiralled into release, a soft cry escaping my lips as he held me, his grip on my hip steadying me, his mouth pressed to my neck, murmuring words I couldn’t quite catch but that only drew me deeper into the moment.

As I trembled in his arms, I felt him reach his own edge, his hold on me tightening as he let go, his body shuddering against mine, his hand still holding me close, as though he never wanted to let go. We stayed like that, entwined and connected, our breaths slowly finding a rhythm again as we came down, tangled together in the quiet aftermath of our shared release.

A gentle stillness settled around us as our breaths began to slow, the warmth of his body enveloping me like a blanket that felt both secure and freeing. His hand, still wrapped around my waist, softened its grip, fingers tracing soothing patterns over my skin as if to reassure me that he was here, that he wasn’t going anywhere. I nestled back into him, letting the remnants of our connection linger, my body still humming with the aftershocks of our closeness.

Hank pressed a soft kiss to my shoulder, a silent thank you, a reminder that every moment we’d shared was as real for him as it was for me. His lips lingered, trailing up to the mark he’d left on my neck, and he touched it with his thumb, a small, almost reverent gesture that sent a shiver through me despite the calmness between us.

I smiled, reaching up to cover his hand with mine, our fingers interlocking. “Guess I’ll be wearing a scarf for the next few days,” I murmured with a soft laugh, the warmth of his touch still fresh against my skin.

He chuckled, his breath a warm whisper against my ear. “Good. That way, you’ll have a reminder… of this,” he replied, his voice quiet but full of meaning. “Of us.”

The weight of his words settled over me, comforting and exhilarating all at once. I squeezed his hand, letting the silence speak for us, because words felt unnecessary, almost too small for the magnitude of what I was feeling.

We lay there like that for a while, our bodies entangled, our hearts still beating in sync. The world outside was still distant, and there was a peacefulness in the quiet rhythm of our breathing, as though time itself had slowed, allowing us to savour this fragile, beautiful moment.

Eventually, Hank’s fingers began a lazy, comforting stroke along my arm, tracing an invisible line up and down, each touch calming and centring. He rested his chin gently on my shoulder, his presence a steady warmth that felt like home.

“What do you want to do today?” he asked softly, his voice warm, carrying a hint of curiosity but mostly a willingness to simply be wherever I wanted to be.

I tilted my head back to catch his gaze, smiling. “I kind of just want to stay right here…with you.”

He smiled, his eyes softening, and he pressed a tender kiss to my temple. “That sounds perfect to me.”

We stayed wrapped up in each other for a while longer, drifting in and out of quiet conversation, his arm draped over me, fingers tracing small circles along my back. At one point, I shifted to face him, nestling into the curve of his shoulder, my hand resting against his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart under my fingertips. The morning felt soft, untouched by any need to move or be anywhere but here.

A sudden pounce on the bed signalled Bud’s arrival. He nestled himself right between us, his small body curling into the gap as though he, too, wanted to be part of our little world. I laughed, reaching out to scratch behind his ears, and Hank’s fingers brushed over mine as he joined in, both of us petting Bud until his purring filled the room, a soft, steady hum that seemed to lull us all back into a comfortable quiet.

Eventually, a thirst for water made it impossible to stay cocooned in bed any longer. With a soft sigh, I slid out from under the blankets, grabbing his T-shirt from the floor and slipping it on, the fabric hanging loose around me, warm from the feel of him. Hank stretched, rolling onto his back, his gaze following me with a lazy warmth.

“Come on,” I murmured, smiling over my shoulder as I padded to the kitchen.

He pulled on his boxers and followed me, tousled and unhurried, his hand grazing my waist as we reached the kitchen. I filled two glasses with cold water, passing one to him, both of us taking long sips, feeling the refreshing coolness spread through us after the warmth of bed.

“Stay here. I’ll make us something,” I murmured, flashing him a soft smile as I reached for the ingredients.

He settled into one of the kitchen chairs, looking completely at ease, his gaze following me with an unguarded affection that sent a warm flush through me. Moving around the kitchen in his T-shirt, I felt a strange comfort and intimacy, as if the shirt itself were an extension of him, wrapping me in his presence.

I grabbed the waffle iron and the ingredients, quickly mixing up the batter. His eyes stayed on me as I worked, the shirt skimming my thighs. I poured the batter, watching the steam rise as the waffles cooked, filling the kitchen with a cosy warmth and the familiar scent of maple syrup.

A few minutes later, I plated the waffles, drizzling them with warm maple syrup, and handed him a plate. His eyes lit up, and he wasted no time digging in, a soft groan of appreciation escaping as he took his first bite.

“These are… amazing,” he said between bites, looking up at me with a grin that made my heart flutter. “You’re holding out on some serious waffle skills.”

I laughed, taking a seat across from him with my own plate. “Just something I picked up along the way.”

We ate in companionable silence, each bite filling and warm, the simple act of sharing a meal keeping us rooted in the moment. I sipped my orange juice, watching him polish off his waffles and then down his water, a content expression settling over his features. He looked satisfied, relaxed in a way I didn’t often see, his gaze drifting out the window where the Hudson stretched in the distance, the city calm beneath the late morning light.

Leaning back in my chair, I propped my feet up on the table’s edge, letting the moment linger. His shirt had slipped a little higher on my thigh, and I noticed his eyes catch on the bare skin exposed there, a flicker of heat in his gaze as he realised I wasn’t wearing anything underneath. A quiet thrill moved through me, the awareness between us simmering just beneath the surface.

I raised an eyebrow, a small, teasing smile playing on my lips. “See something you like?”

His eyes met mine, that warmth deepening. “More than a few things,” he replied, his voice a touch rough, the hint of a smirk tugging at his mouth. He reached across the table, his fingers brushing mine, a simple touch that felt both grounding and electric.

Without breaking eye contact, he moved his hand lower, fingers gently curling around my ankle. He held it with a gentleness that belied the intensity in his gaze, his thumb brushing soft circles against my skin. Slowly, he lifted my foot, pressing a soft kiss to my ankle, his lips warm against the delicate skin. I shivered, feeling the warmth spread up my leg, the thrill of anticipation building as he took his time, each kiss a deliberate, gentle exploration.

He didn’t rush, his mouth tracing a slow, teasing path up my calf, his eyes lifting every so often to catch my gaze, a spark of mischief and intent flickering there. As he reached my knee, he lowered my foot to the ground, but instead of rising, he slid off his chair, sinking down onto his knees in front of me. My breath hitched, heart beating a little faster as he settled himself between my legs, his hands gliding up my thighs with a quiet reverence.

His lips brushed against the inside of my knee, featherlight, lingering there as if he was savouring the feel of my skin under his mouth. I leaned back, feeling my pulse quicken, my body responding to each touch, every careful kiss. Slowly, he worked his way up my thigh, his mouth tracing a path that was both tender and teasing, each touch building the anticipation, stoking the quiet, simmering heat between us.

As he reached the sensitive skin of my inner thigh, his hands tightened their hold, anchoring me, keeping me steady as his mouth moved closer to the ache that had been building with every kiss, every glance. His gaze lifted once more, and the intensity there made my breath catch, a wordless promise that sent a thrill through me.

With a firm yet gentle pull, he drew me forward until I was perched at the very edge of the chair, his hands drifting over my knees, coaxing my legs wider as he settled even closer. His lips continued their path, pressing soft, open-mouthed kisses along the sensitive skin near the apex of my thigh, the heat of his breath making my head spin. My fingers gripped the edge of the chair, anticipation thrumming through my veins as I watched him, feeling completely vulnerable and yet utterly safe under his steady gaze.

When his mouth reached the soft skin just below my hip, he paused, his breath hot and steady against me. My pulse raced, each beat building the anticipation until it felt like every nerve was focused solely on him. I watched as he lifted my legs, draping them over his shoulders, his hands gripping my thighs to hold me in place. The feel of his hands, firm and reassuring, paired with the intense gaze he held me with, sent a shiver through me that only deepened the ache pooling low in my belly.

Then, without further hesitation, his mouth found me. His lips pressed against my most sensitive spot, warm and gentle at first, a slow, deliberate kiss that drew a breathless gasp from me. His tongue traced a soft, teasing path, each movement controlled, unhurried, exploring me with a reverence that made my skin tingle. The sensation was overwhelming, every nerve ending alight under his careful attention.

A soft, satisfied hum escaped him, vibrating against me, and I felt a rush of warmth at the sound, knowing my reaction stirred something deep in him. He continued with a steady rhythm, his tongue circling, pressing, coaxing me closer with each pass. My fingers slipped into his hair, gripping as he deepened his touch, his mouth working against me in a way that was both skilled and achingly tender. The pressure built slowly, a delicious intensity that had me shifting in his hold, my breath coming in shallow, uneven gasps.

His hands tightened around my thighs, anchoring me as he adjusted slightly, pressing his mouth harder against me, his tongue and lips moving with an intensity that left me breathless. My back arched, a soft moan escaping as he found a perfect rhythm, the sensation so consuming it felt as though I could dissolve into it. My hands slid down, one gripping his shoulder, the other resting on his forearm, needing to hold onto something as he continued, each movement deliberate, thorough.

He responded with a low groan, his movements growing just a bit more focused, as though my sounds guided him. His breath, warm and uneven, washed over me with every shift, and I could feel him responding to every tremor, every gasp that escaped my lips.

His hands flexed on my thighs as he sensed my body tightening, my breathing growing shallow and quick. He pulled me even closer, the soft sounds of his pleasure blending with mine, a quiet harmony that only heightened the closeness between us. Each noise he made felt like an affirmation, a gentle promise that he was as affected as I was, completely in sync.

My back lifted off the chair as his tongue worked against me, swirling and pressing with unrelenting precision. Each deliberate movement drew me tighter, a desperate sound escaping as he pulled me closer to the edge, every flick and swirl so consuming it was as if he was unraveling me one touch at a time.

He seemed to sense the exact moment when the pleasure crested, his movements coaxing me over the edge with a precision that felt both gentle and powerful. I shuddered, my body arching as a wave of pleasure washed over me, his mouth still moving, guiding me through each tremor, grounding me in his hold. The world blurred, my senses overwhelmed, every touch, every kiss, every whisper of breath blending into a symphony of sensation.

When I opened my eyes, he was gazing up at me, a warm, satisfied smile on his face. He leaned forward, pressing a gentle kiss to my thigh before he lowered my legs from his shoulders, his hands still warm and reassuring on my hips. Rising slowly, he brought his face close to mine, his thumb brushing softly over my cheek as he looked at me with that familiar, tender intensity.

“Beautiful,” he murmured, his voice low, filled with a quiet reverence that made my heart flutter.

I wrapped my arms around his neck, pulling him closer, leaning in to capture his lips in a kiss that was soft and tender, a quiet echo of everything we’d shared. The taste of me lingered on his lips, a reminder of the closeness we’d just experienced, the quiet intimacy that bound us together in a way that felt deeper, more profound than words could capture.

Our kiss deepened, growing slower and softer, the kind of kiss that felt like sinking into something warm and familiar. But as our smiles began to creep in, it became harder to keep up the rhythm. My lips curled against his, and I could feel his mouth twitching with his own grin, the playfulness bubbling up between us. Then, just as we leaned in again, our teeth knocked together with a soft, awkward clink. We both froze, then burst out laughing, the sound filling the room as I pulled back, covering my mouth.

He raised an eyebrow, still grinning, his hand resting lightly on my waist. “Guess we’re not as smooth as we thought,” he murmured, his own laughter softening into a warm, amused smile.

I bit my lip, feeling a blush spread over my cheeks. “I just… I feel like a horny teenager,” I admitted, laughing softly.

He chuckled, eyes glinting with mischief. “Come on,” he said, grabbing my hand and leading me back toward the bed. “If we’re going to feel like teenagers, we might as well do it somewhere comfortable.”

We settled back onto the bed, lying side by side, limbs entangled as we caught our breath. After a moment, I looked at him thoughtfully, imagining a teenage version of Hank. “You must’ve had girls lining up for you,” I said, a teasing smile pulling at my lips. “Tall, athletic, funny… you probably had half the school crushing on you.”

He laughed, shaking his head. “Believe it or not, I had my awkward phase too. Gangly, too many freckles, braces—the whole package.”

I tried to picture it but struggled to imagine him anything but effortlessly charming. “Still, I bet you outgrew it fast.”

He shrugged, a sheepish grin forming. “Maybe… but I still wasn’t exactly Mr. Popular.” His gaze softened, turning curious. “What about you? I bet you were the cute, mysterious girl everyone wanted to know more about.”

I shrugged. “More like invisible, honestly. I had friends, but… no one ever really saw me as more than that. I was quieter than the other girls who were… you know, bubbly, a little louder. It didn’t really stand out.”

Hank tilted his head, studying me. “I would’ve liked you. It’s always the quiet ones, you know.” His voice was gentle, sincere, and for a moment, I felt a soft warmth spread through me.

I smiled, reaching for his hand. “Alright, so tell me—when was your first kiss?”

He grinned, leaning back as he thought about it. “I was twelve. My first date, believe it or not—my mum actually dropped us off at the movies. I remember sharing popcorn, all nerves and sweaty palms, and then… about halfway through, I made my move. Leaned over and just… kissed her.”

I grinned, picturing him as an eager twelve-year-old, nervously going in for that first kiss. “Bold. I’m impressed.”

“And what about you?” he asked, turning the tables.

I sighed, already cringing at the memory. “I was fourteen, it was at this under-16s event at a local club. They had a DJ, dance floor, the whole vibe—just no alcohol, obviously. Anyway, I spotted a cute guy, and my friend, bless her, decided to play matchmaker. She ran over to tell him I thought he was cute. I was mortified.”

Hank’s laughter echoed around the room, and I joined in, the memory both embarrassing and oddly endearing in hindsight.

“So, what happened?” he pressed, clearly invested.

“Well, he just came over and planted one on me. No ‘hi,’ no conversation. Just… straight in, and it was… awful,” I said, wincing. “Way too much tongue, sooooo sloppy. I pushed him away and went back to my friends. Never found out his name, never saw him again.”

Hank laughed, shaking his head. “Alright, I think that wins for worst first kiss. You didn’t even get his name?”

“Nope.” I smiled, shrugging. “A true mystery man. Didn’t matter though—no one else even looked my way until college.”

He leaned in, brushing a gentle kiss along my temple. “Their loss,” he murmured, and the simplicity of his words left a warmth lingering between us, settling deeper than I expected.

We lay there, tangled up in each other, sharing old memories and quiet laughter, each story revealing a little more of who we’d once been and the path that led us here. And as the early afternoon light shifted softly across the room, I realised these moments—these quiet, unguarded glimpses—were exactly what I’d been hoping to find.

We stayed curled up in bed, limbs entwined, the warmth of his body melding with mine as the hours slipped by, unnoticed. We shared more stories, our voices soft in the quiet, the closeness weaving an unspoken connection between us that felt both thrilling and achingly real. Hank’s fingers moved gently along my arm as he listened, his gaze attentive, as though every word mattered. And with each memory, every laugh, we sank deeper into a shared intimacy that felt as natural as breathing.

When words gave way to silence, our bodies took over, finding each other in gentle touches and lingering kisses. It was unhurried, a delicate dance that felt equal parts exploration and surrender, as if the only goal was to lose ourselves in the warmth and comfort we’d created together. His hands roamed my skin, fingertips mapping a path that made me shiver, and I found myself memorising the curve of his shoulders, the way his breathing shifted with each soft touch. There was something deeply grounding in the simplicity of it—no rush, no expectations, just the two of us discovering what it meant to truly let someone in.

By the time the sun had begun to dip lower in the sky, casting golden light across the bed, our stomachs reminded us of the real world outside our little cocoon. Hank’s hand slipped down to his phone, pulling up a menu. “Pizza?” he asked, a lazy grin spreading across his face. “Or are you in the mood for something fancier?”

I smiled, nestling closer. “Pizza sounds perfect. Let’s keep it simple.”

He nodded, ordering without missing a beat, as though he knew exactly what toppings I’d choose. When he hung up, he turned back to me, his arm wrapping around my shoulders to pull me close. We lay like that, content in the warmth of each other’s presence, the quiet broken only by the distant hum of the city beyond the window.

When the pizza arrived, we sat cross-legged on the bed, laughing as we devoured each slice. It felt wonderfully normal, like we’d been doing this forever. Hank looked at me over the edge of his slice, a soft, almost hesitant smile on his face.

“So, tomorrow,” he began, tracing patterns in the pizza box with his finger, “I was thinking… we could go to the aquarium? Coney Island, maybe?”

My face lit up at the suggestion. “The aquarium? I haven’t been in years. I’d love that.”

His smile widened, a glimmer of excitement flashing in his eyes. “Good. I thought it might be fun to do something different… and I like the idea of us just… being together.”

I leaned over, brushing a gentle kiss to his cheek. “Perfect. It sounds perfect.”

We lingered there, talking about everything and nothing, spinning plans for tomorrow while sharing quiet glances that said far more than our words.

The evening unfolded in a gentle rhythm, each small moment settling comfortably into the quiet intimacy we’d built together. After we’d shared the last of the pizza, Hank wandered into the kitchen to fetch Bud’s dinner, calling for him with a soft whistle. Bud trotted over, tail high and eyes bright with anticipation. He rubbed against Hank’s leg, giving a low purr as Hank scratched him behind the ears before setting down his bowl. We stood together, watching Bud eat with contented little snuffles, our hands brushing as we leaned against the counter.

There was something deeply satisfying in this simplicity, the way even the smallest routines felt like tiny acts of closeness. Clearing the plates, rinsing them together, and putting away the empty pizza box—all of it took on a new meaning, like we were building a little world just for us, even in these fleeting, everyday moments.

Once the kitchen was tidied, Hank stretched his arms over his head, giving me a sleepy smile as he reached for my hand. “How about a shower before bed?” he suggested, his voice low, carrying that familiar warmth. There was no rush, no urgency—just the simple, comforting idea of sharing the quiet before sleep.

I nodded, letting him lead me to the bathroom, his hand warm around mine. He turned on the shower, adjusting the temperature until the steam curled softly through the air, misting over the mirror and filling the space with a gentle warmth. We stepped in together, letting the water cascade over us, creating a private world where nothing else existed but the soft patter of droplets and the quiet presence of each other.

Hank’s hands moved slowly, almost reverently, as he lathered up the shampoo and began working it gently through my hair. His fingers massaged my scalp with a tenderness that felt both intimate and unassuming, each touch a quiet reminder of his care. I closed my eyes, sinking into the sensation, letting the water and his hands wash away the remnants of the day. He rinsed my hair with a slow, careful touch, his fingers threading through each strand, ensuring that every last bit of shampoo was gone.

When he finished, he turned me gently, pressing a soft kiss to my forehead before I reached for the body wash, mirroring his careful, deliberate touch as I lathered his shoulders and chest, my hands moving over him with the same unspoken promise.

With each movement, each soft touch, it felt like we were sharing something beyond words, a connection that went deeper than the physical. As I ran my hands over his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart under my palms, I looked up to find him watching me, his gaze warm and open, his eyes reflecting the quiet understanding that filled the space between us.

When he took the body wash from me, I caught his eye, smiling softly, and he returned the look with a warmth that made my heart flutter. He started with my shoulders, his hands moving in slow, soothing circles, the gentle pressure relaxing every muscle. As he worked his way down my back, his fingers tracing along my spine, I felt the pleasant soreness between my thighs, a lingering reminder of the passion we’d shared earlier in the day.

His gaze fell to the faint hickey he’d left on my neck that morning, a soft blush blooming where his lips had been. He brushed a thumb over it, smiling to himself before his hands continued their path down my body, washing over my hips and stomach with a care that felt almost reverent.

As his hands moved lower, he paused, his touch growing more deliberate as he lathered the body wash over my thighs. When his fingers slipped between my legs, his touch was gentle, his fingers moving in slow, tender circles that sent a soft gasp tumbling from my lips. The delicate way he washed over me, his fingers brushing against my folds with careful, unhurried strokes, made me feel seen and cherished in a way that was almost overwhelming.

I opened my eyes to meet his gaze, and in that instant, something shifted between us, a quiet intensity building in the warmth of the water and the softness of his touch. He leaned in, capturing my mouth in a kiss that started soft but deepened quickly, his hands steadying me as I wrapped one leg around his waist, drawing him closer.

He pressed me back against the cool tiles, his body flush against mine, his length hard against my thigh, a promise of everything I already craved. His mouth moved from my lips to the hollow of my throat, lingering over the hickey he’d left earlier, his tongue tracing it slowly before he kissed his way down, each touch igniting a fresh wave of heat beneath my skin.

His hands moved to cup my breasts, his thumbs brushing over my nipples, sending sharp jolts of pleasure through me as he took his time, his mouth following the path of his hands, his kisses trailing down until I was arching into him, breathless and aching. The contrast of his warm, wet mouth against my skin and the cool tile at my back made every sensation sharper, more vivid, as though he were marking every inch of me.

He lifted me slightly, his hands firm on my hips, and I felt him position himself, his cock pressing insistently against me. Slowly, he entered me, inch by inch, filling me with a deliberate slowness that left me gasping, my fingers clutching his shoulders as he pushed deeper. The stretch was intense, a delicious pressure that mingled with the soft ache from earlier, heightening every sensation until I could hardly breathe.

He moved within me with a slow, steady rhythm, his hands gripping my hips as he guided me, each thrust measured, each movement unhurried, as though he wanted to memorise the feel of me. His mouth found mine again, his kisses deep and consuming, the warmth of his tongue meeting mine in a way that mirrored the slow, intimate dance of our bodies.

I reached down, my hand slipping between us to touch my clit, each gentle stroke amplifying the pleasure coursing through me. He felt my touch, a low, guttural sound escaping him as he tightened his hold on me, his pace quickening slightly as I worked myself closer to the edge. His mouth moved back to my neck, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin as his hands pressed my hips firmly against him, our bodies locked in a rhythm that was both tender and fierce.

The pleasure built and built, coiling tight and hot until it finally shattered, my body clenching around him as a wave of release swept over me. I clung to him, lost in the sensation as he held me steady, his movements carrying me through every tremor, every pulse of pleasure. He followed moments later, his grip on my hips tightening as he buried himself deep, a shudder running through him as he let go, our bodies locked together in the warm cocoon of the water.

We stayed like that for a few moments, his forehead resting against mine as we caught our breath, the steady beat of his heart thrumming against my chest, grounding me in the closeness we’d created.

Gently, he set me down, still holding me close as he reached for the thick, fluffy towel nearby. He wrapped it around me with a tenderness that sent a gentle ache through my chest, pressing a soft kiss to my forehead. I reached up to towel off his hair, grinning as he leaned into my touch, his eyes filled with a playful warmth that mirrored my own.

We moved to the sink, brushing our teeth side by side, standing close enough that our arms brushed now and then. I caught his eye in the mirror, and we both smiled, sharing a small, almost childlike amusement at this shared, ordinary moment. It was strange, but standing there with toothpaste foam on our mouths and a sleepy contentment in our eyes felt as intimate as any kiss we’d shared.

I took my time drying my hair, enjoying the lingering warmth of his touch, the softness of the towel around me. When I finally emerged from the bathroom, I found Hank already stretched out on the bed, his breathing deep and even as he’d drifted off, one arm sprawled across the pillow beside him. Bud was curled up near his side, a small ball of fur nestled into the blankets, his tiny body rising and falling in time with Hank’s breaths. The sight filled me with a gentle warmth, a sense of contentment settling over me as I realised how natural this scene felt, like we’d been doing this forever.

I switched off the bathroom light, leaving a soft, dim glow in the room as I climbed into bed. Sliding under the covers, I nestled against Hank’s side, fitting myself into the familiar curve of his body. Even in his sleep, he instinctively shifted, wrapping his arm around me, his hand resting lightly against my back. I could feel the slow, steady beat of his heart under my cheek, a quiet, reassuring rhythm that seemed to sync perfectly with mine.

As I lay there, the events of the day drifted through my mind like scenes in a film—our laughter, the playful teasing, the stories we’d shared, and the warmth of his hand in mine. Each memory felt like a piece of something we were building together, something that felt both fragile and resilient, like the kind of trust that could weather anything.

I turned slightly, pressing a soft kiss to his shoulder, my lips brushing against his warm skin. Bud stirred beside us, curling up a little closer, his purring a gentle hum that filled the quiet, lulling me further into the comfort of the moment. The weight of Hank’s arm over me, the warmth of his body against mine, the soft breaths that filled the room—it all felt like a promise, a silent vow that we were in this together, wherever it might lead.

With a final, sleepy smile, I let myself relax completely, letting the peace of the evening wash over me as I drifted off, cocooned in the warmth of Hank’s embrace and the contentment of a day spent in quiet closeness. And as I closed my eyes, feeling his heartbeat steady under my cheek, I realised that this—this quiet, unassuming closeness—was all I’d ever wanted.

Masterlist

[tales-of-wocdes]

How would Grandpa Sheo and Adopted parents Havard and Lexia react to MC wearing elbow lenght gloves with belts which they tighten to crush their lumpy flesh and swollen fingers into place to make it look like their arms are normal.

Bonus reaction: their cleaning the blood from MC's arms due to the lumpy and swollen flesh popping due to the pressure and MC just tells them they wish thier hands where normal.

I am not sure that with bandages, their arms look that off when completely covered. But for the ask, let's go with it.

-------------LEXIA-------------

"Kid, you ok?" Lexia asked much softer than usual. "Those look painful. Sure you don't just want to wear longer sleeves?"

You shake you head, but the sound of blood dripping from your hands on the floor draws both your gazes downwards.

"Oh... well that's not good." Lexia says and kneel before you. She takes your arms into hers and inspects them. "Sorry, kid. I can't let you wear these if they hurt you." She sounds apologetic but firm.

"I... I just wanted...." You start, squirming under her blue gaze. "I just wanted normal arms." You whisper.

"I know, kid." She says as she undoes the belts. "But we don't always get what we want. But we'll work on it. There has to be some way to help." She cleans away the blood.

Her smile makes you feel a bit better.

---------------HAVARD-----------------

"MC?" Havard asked, worried. His gaze was locked onto your arms, the belts you managed to tighten around them.

He seems to be fighting with something. Is he going to make you take them off?

The sound of blood dripping from your hands on the floor draws both your gazes downwards. You are bleeding...

Havard is kneeling before you. "You are hurt." He says softly and reaches for your arms. "The belts are hurting you." He starts unbuckling them. He does not ask, but you think he understands.

"I... I just wanted...." You start, squirming under those hazel eyes. "I just wanted normal arms." You whisper.

Havard stops and looks at you, his eyes meeting yours. "I promise we will work on it. Find some solution." He starts cleaning the blood. "But I cannot allow you to harm yourself. There has to be something we can do."

His smile is soft and reassuring.

You do feel better.

--------Grandpa Sheo----------

"You are free to wear what you want, but I must insist on something that does not actively make things worse." The Ancient said, leaning in to inspect your arms. "I do not believe this qualifies. You are bleeding."

"I... I just wanted...." You start, squirming under that ancient gaze. "I just wanted normal arms." You whisper.

The Ancient nods. "Understandable. Yet, your hands are not normal. Wishing does not make it otherwise." The Ancient's voice is calm and neutral. It is not a comforting voice, but neither is it cruel. Just honest, stating a truth.

It still hurt.

Upon seeing your expression the Ancient went on. "Life is cruel and unfair. Even someone like I cannot change this. Your arms being injured does not make you lesser. It shows you have survived a terrible ordeal but you are still here." Ancient eyes stare into yours. "Your arms do not define you, or your potential." The Ancient opened the belts and let them drop. His voice was calm and clear. "It will not be easy." He cleans away the blood. "But life never is. It does not mean it is not worth trying."

But... what if you don't want to try... You don't say it out loud but the Ancient somehow knows.

"Remember, you are not alone. Havard and Lexia will help you."

You do feel a bit better.

[dixons-sunshine]

The Boyfriend Assessment | Quarters Of The Undead AU

Summary: Meeting your best friend’s boyfriend for the first time was never easy. In Georgianna’s case, meeting Vec’s boyfriend felt like a life or death situation—until it didn’t.

Warnings: I can’t think of anything.

Word count: 2.8k

A/N: First official fic for this AU on my part! Aahhhh I’m so excited! I hope I captured Vec accurately, @thevegandarkelf. If not, I’d be more than happy to change a few things. Also, I know there’s no Daryl in this, but I wanted to get a head start on Georgie and Scud’s sibling rivalry. My next fic should probably include Daryl!

“How do I look?”

At the sound of her voice, Georgianna looked up from the tests she was busy grading and up at Lydia Rae Vector—or, well, Dia for her personally due to best friend reasons, and Vec for others—her roommate and absolute bestest friend in the whole world. The woman in question stood in front of Georgianna, sporting a casual yet outgoing look, all in an attempt to impress the guy that worked at the auto repair shop near Atlanta General, the same guy that was coming over for dinner so that Georgianna could finally meet the man that held her best friend’s heart as of late. The cutie with the bandana, as she had come to know him as from their extensive talks about the man.

Georgianna clicked her red pen closed and leaned back on the couch. She hummed and scanned Vec’s attire, a faux look of contemplation on her face. It was all for show, really. Vec was one of the most fashionable people she knew. If one were to give her a trash bag, she would find a way to style it. But Georgianna knew that Vec loved her reassurance nonetheless, so she always made sure to let her best friend know her honest thoughts.

“You look great, Dia,” Georgianna spoke up after a few beats of silence, her tone laced with honesty and sincerity. “Now calm down and take a few deep breaths, okay?”

Vec took her advice and followed the breathing patterns Georgianna was demonstrating. Once she was certain she was not going to freak out, Vec sighed. “Thanks.”

“Don’t mention it.” Georgianna stood up from the couch and made her way over to Vec, closely inspecting her rather nervous stature, something that was rather uncommon for the usually confident, straightforward woman. “What’s up, babe? What’s got you so worried? I’m the one that should be nervous.”

“I don’t even really know,” Vec admitted with a small groan. “I mean, when it’s just me and him, everything is so natural. He matches my freak, y’know? And obviously, when it’s just you and me, we can talk about anything and nothing all at once. But—”

“You’re nervous about how we’ll feel about each other,” Georgianna finished for her, instantly understanding where her worry was coming from.

“A little bit, yeah.”

“Dia, you don’t have to worry about what we think of each other, okay? Even if we end up despising each other, I won’t let it affect you. I’ll learn to tolerate him. But I’m sure that won’t even be necessary. I’m sure I’m gonna love him. Well, not like that, of course. He’s your man. I would never betray your trust like that. I—”

“I get what you meant,” Vec interrupted her with a light laugh, knowing well that if she did not, Georgianna would go on a rant in an attempt to explain something she did not have to in the first place. Georgianna had a tendency to overthink, and Vec was the anchor that helped her in those types of situations.

Georgianna sighed and shrugged. “Besides, if this guy—”

“Josh.”

“—Josh is as great as you say he is, then I’m sure we’re gonna get along great.” When Vec nodded, Georgianna continued. “Now calm down, okay? Tonight’s gonna go just fine.”

“You’re right,” Vec agreed. “It will be fine.”

The doorbell to the two women’s shared apartment rung, making them both look over at it. Georgianna frowned and looked up at the clock on the wall, before looking back at her best friend. “It’s only five thirty. I thought he was gonna be here at seven.”

Vec shrugged nonchalantly. “I mean, I told him to be here any time after five if he wanted. I didn’t think he was actually gonna be so early.” Her earlier nerves being replaced with an idea she deemed positively brilliant, Vec smiled. “It gives the two of you the time to get to know each other while I make dinner!”

“You’re kidding,” Georgianna exclaimed in a hushed whisper. “Dia, you can’t leave me alone with him! The living room is a mess! And you know what—”

“What a flibbertigibbet you can be when you’re nervous. Yes, I know, but I also know that he wouldn’t mind that.” Vec gripped Georgianna’s shoulder in—what she hoped was—reassurance. “Believe me, he doesn’t mind messes at all. And besides, I seriously doubt five test papers can qualify as a mess. You’ll be fine, Ginny. I promise. Think of this as a parent-teacher conference.”

Georgianna hesitantly nodded. “Yeah, okay. I can do that.”

“Perfect, because you don’t really have a choice.”

Before Georgianna could say anything, Vec backed away from the woman and stalked towards the door. She opened the wooden barrier between her and her boyfriend, and smiled brightly at the man on the other end. Georgianna forced herself to relax, trying to remind herself that this was not a big deal. She loved meeting new people. She strived for social interactions. She was a complete social butterfly. She could do this.

“Josh, hey!” Vec greeted the man enthusiastically.

If it was not for the fact that she had seen it with her own eyes, Georgianna would never have thought she was nervous at all. Vec truly was a master at changing her emotions in a matter of seconds. Georgianna often joked that her best friend should have gone into the acting business instead of surgery due to that little fact alone.

“Heya, Vee.”

Vec leaned forward and gave the man a quick peck on the lips, before beckoning him inside. “C’mon, you gotta meet Georgie.”

Got to was a bit of an overstatement, Georgianna thought to herself. However, she forced herself to calm down and plastered a smile onto her face. This meeting meant a lot to Vec, and by god, Georgianna was going to ensure that it went as smoothly as humanly possible.

The moment Georgianna’s eyes landed on the man she had heard so much about, the woman had to resist the urge to comment on his choice of clothing. He wore a shirt that had some science joke on it, with a pair of jeans that had definitely seen better days, a big puffer jacket and a pair of sneakers that had a bunch of small doodles on the side. He even wore a bandana, but from the various conversations she had with Vec regarding the cutie with the bandana, Georgianna had expected that last part.

The couple walked into the living room and came to a stop a few feet away from Georgianna. She exchanged a look with Vec, before turning back to the man—Josh—and extended her hand.

“Hi. I’m Georgianna,” she greeted in a tone of voice that closely resembled the one she used when greeting the parents of the kids she taught. “Georgianna Marianne Hawkins.” She had no idea why she had felt the need to give her full government name, but there was no going back now.

The man smiled and gripped her hand in his and shook it once. “It’s nice to meet you. I’ve heard a lot about you.” He removed his hand from hers and motioned towards himself. “I’m Joshua Frohmeyer, but you can call me Scud. Just about everybody does.”

Georgianna nodded and looked at Scud with a scrutinising gaze. It got quiet for a few moments, before Scud chuckled awkwardly and cleared his throat. “Okay, then. Where’s the bathroom?”

“Down the hall, first door to the right,” Vec explained, smiling at him as he kissed her on the cheek and disappeared down the hall. When she heard the door close, she turned back to Georgianna. “What was that about?”

“What do you mean?” Georgianna inquired with a confused frown.

“You know, that look you gave him. Like you’re a dad trying to figure out his intentions with your daughter.”

“You trying to insinuate you see me as your mom?” When Vec simply sent her a pointed look, Georgianna laughed and shook her head. “Okay, okay. I just… I guess I just don’t really understand something.”

That got Vec’s attention. “What do you mean?”

“You kept going on about the cutie with the bandana, and I just don’t get it. I mean, I can clearly see that he’s wearing a bandana, but I’m struggling to see how the word ‘cutie’ comes into play here.”

The clearing of someone’s throat slightly startled both Vec and Georgianna. Whipping around, she came face-to-face with none other than the man she had been talking about a few moments prior. Georgianna would have felt embarrassed, but for some reason unbeknownst to her, she did not.

Scud went and stood next to Vec once more, his blue eyes studying Georgianna’s face intently. “Well, then it’s a good thing it’s only her opinion that matters.” For added emphasis, he motioned towards Vec.

Georgianna crossed her arms over her chest and met Scud’s gaze head-on. She did not know where this sudden surge of confidence came from, but there was just something about the man in front of her that made her feel weirdly at ease, like she could speak her mind without having to fear looking like an absolute fool. She could not explain the odd feeling.

“Well,” she began matter-of-factly, “considering the fact that Vec came to me for the initial “yes or nah” evaluation of you, I personally think that my opinion holds a ton of value.”

Scud simply stared at her with a deadpan look. “Not in this case, it doesn’t. In fact, any opinions ya have of me will be taken with a grain of salt.”

“Is that so?”

“Yes, it is.”

“Well, I think—”

“Okay!” Vec interrupted. Maybe leaving them alone to talk wouldn’t be such a brilliant idea after all, Vec thought to herself. In an attempt to ease what she thought was an uncomfortable tension, she turned to Scud. “How about you help me in the kitchen while Georgie finishes up with her work?”

Scud shrugged and nodded. “Sounds good to me.” He turned to Georgianna with a smirk on his face. “That okay with you, Marianne? Considering your opinion holds so much value?”

Georgianna rolled her eyes at his comment, and the unnecessary emphasis of her middle name. She knew exactly why he did that. Vec must have told him how much she hated being addressed by her middle name. It was the perfect way to take a jab at her without outright insulting her.

“Yes, it’s completely fine with me, Joshua. Just don’t burn my kitchen down while you’re at it,” Georgianna replied, emphasizing his name as well and smirking slightly at the way he cringed at that. Vec had told Georgianna how much Scud hated being addressed by his full first name, so now that once unimportant piece of information had turned way more vital for the Hawkins woman.

“Guys,” Vec chimed in, her eyes darting between her best friend and her boyfriend, “please don’t.”

Georgianna and Vec shared a look, before the former moved over towards the couch and sat back down in front of the test that had laid momentarily forgotten. “Whatever you make, remember—”

“No onions or tomatoes. Yes, I know.”

With that, Vec ushered Scud into the kitchen, leaving Georgianna alone in the living room. With one last look towards where the couple had stood only moments prior, she picked up her pen and resumed with her task of grading the paper, a small smile tugging at the corners of her lips.

Yeah, Georgianna had a feeling that her and Scud were going to get along just fine.

“Thanks for coming over, Josh.”

“Of course. This was great.” Scud leaned down and pressed a soft, tender peck to Vec’s lips. He shrugged his jacket on and sent Vec a charming, heartfelt smile.

Georgianna—who stood off to the side—simply observed the couple with a small, fond smile on her face. The two truly did make a terrific pair. They complimented each other’s personalities beautifully. All throughout dinner, Georgianna had noticed how Scud’s eyes barely strayed away from her best friend, even when Vec was not looking. They were perfect for one another, and Georgianna was beyond happy that her best friend had finally found the person that was meant for her.

Georgianna liked Scud. She could see that he was a great guy. Despite only officially knowing him for a few hours, Georgianna felt like she had known him her whole life. Her usual very slight awkwardness when meeting new people failed to make an appearance with Scud, and that little fact spoke volumes. All throughout dinner, Scud and Georgianna made jokes and took playful jabs at one another, like they were siblings just catching up at a family dinner instead of being complete strangers to the other.

Scud’s eyes shifted over to Georgianna, a smirk playing at the corners of his lips. “Good night, Marianne.”

“Night, Joshua,” Georgianna greeted with a roll of her eyes. “Don’t let the door hit you on the way out.”

With one last kiss to Vec’s cheek, Scud disappeared out of the front door. Closing the door behind her, Vec locked it, made her way over to the couch and collapsed onto it. With a heavy sigh, she looked up at Georgianna, her blue eyes sparkling in the dim light of the living room.

“So,” she began, her eyes following Georgianna as the aforementioned woman went about tidying up the living room, “I have a feeling that you don’t particularly like him.”

“Who, Scud?” Georgianna asked rhetorically, though she still received a nod from Vec. “Oh, no, he’s great. I like him. I can totally see why you fell for him. He’s not my type, but he’s yours and I can see myself becoming great friends with him.”

That confused Vec. Her eyebrows furrowed behind her glasses as she gazed up at the brown-haired woman. “I—what? Huh?”

“What’s wrong?” Georgianna inquired, completely taken aback by her friend’s strange behaviour. “You sound like you’re having a stroke.”

“The two of you didn’t stop taking jabs at each other all night!” Vec exclaimed, her tone evidently laced with confusion. “It sounded like you hated him.”

“I don’t hate him. He’s actually really cool, and I could tell that he didn’t mean what he was saying. You know I’m good at reading people, Dia. He’s a good guy and he clearly makes you happy.” Georgianna sat down on the armchair, a sigh leaving her chest. “Besides, his “insults” were kinda weak. I’ve had way worse things said to me before.”

Vec smiled at her. “So he has your stamp of approval?”

Georgianna nodded. “He does.”

“Then it definitely makes me feel better about giving him your number.”

“You gave him my number?” Georgianna asked, although she was just curious, not angry. “Why?”

“I gave it to him a while ago,” Vec replied with a shrug. “It was just in case there happened to be an emergency and I couldn’t call you with my phone. I completely forgot to tell you that I did. I’m sorry.”

Georgianna nodded slowly. “Okay, yeah. That makes sense. And it’s fine.” Vec was just about to say something else, but a yawn cut her off, making Georgianna chuckle. “Go to bed, Dia. I’ll clean up.”

“You sure?” When Georgianna nodded, Vec got up from the couch. “You’re the best, Ginny. I love you.”

“Love you too, Dia. Now go to bed. You have an early shift tomorrow.”

Vec nodded, and with that, she disappeared down the hall and into her bedroom. A few seconds after the door was shut, Georgianna’s phone buzzed in her pocket. She took her phone out, opened it and read the text that had come through.

Unknown: hiya, Marianne. It’s Scud. Thought I’d shoot ya a text to thank you for having me over. It was fun.

Unknown: By the way, I hope you didn’t take my “insults” to heart. I didn’t mean anything by it. It was just playful banter.

Georgianna shook her head at the texts. She quickly saved the number to her phone, before replying to him.

Georgie: Don’t worry, I know. Same here. I didn’t mean anything by it.

Joshua: Good to know.

Joshua: Anyways, I gotta go. Nightly call with my bae. She’s way better company than you. Sorry about that.

The moment Georgianna read that text, she heard the muffled sound of Vec’s ringtone, before it got silenced by the enthusiastic “hey, babe! You home yet?” from the aforementioned woman. Georgianna smiled at the clear-as-day happiness her best friend exuded. She put her phone down on the table and made her way to the kitchen, humming to herself as she went about cleaning up the mess.

Scud made Vec beyond happy, and that was enough for Georgianna to decide that her and Scud would get along just fine.

Georgie belongs to me.

Vec belongs to @thevegandarkelf.

Comment/DM/inbox me to be added to the taglist for this AU!

©dixons-sunshine and thevegandarkelf 2024. We do not give permission for our works for this AU to be copied, modified, adapted or translated to any other site or platform without evidence of our given consent.

[theladypeartree]

Mdzs x howl's moving castle in the sense that wei wuxian's magic is the same as Sophie's.

Everyone else cultivates magic through sword forms and talismans etc and wwx can do all that ...Bc he thinks that how it works. Wwx losing his magic bc he lost his golden core and obviously you need a golden core to do magic so of course he can't wield his sword. Except he is swordless and coreless in the burial mounds and calls out for help out of sheer desperation and the dead rise up to help him.

Does he convince himself that he and the Wen remnants were doomed from the start, creating wards that will fail if he's not around bc he believes they will fail if he's not around. Does it take until his resurrection for him to realise that he can command people to STOP, doors to OPEN, wen ning to REMEMBER just by saying it, by willing into being. Or does he promise a-yuan that will be safe often enough that the wards become impenetrable to anyone intending them harm? Does he promise wen qing that he can help her grow medicinal herbs and grows ones that never existed before? After all, he told her that he could bring wen ning back and he sure did that!! Not even going into tye success of the transfer which convinced wen qing would work.

At what point do the others notice that wwx makes impossible things happen by insisting they will happen.

How many impossible things need to happen for wwx to notice that it's him doing it.

[arts-i-enjoy]

AHHHHHH

[thenwethrowitonthefire]

Shout-out to everyone who survived a "fun" easter with the family