#anyway I spent all day with the boy and now I need a nap and some dinner lol | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

here2bbtstrash · 2 years ago

Text

it's sweet (explicit)

genre: a fluffy lil sickfic

pairing: taehyung x reader

summary: you forgot to call out sick from your dick appointment, but he stays anyway.

word count: 4.3k

contains: no smut just fluff????? new year new me 😎 but as this is fuckbuddies to maybe-lovers and there are certainly a few references in here to sex, because of who i am as a person, it's enough that i'm tagging it explicit anyway lmao. but this is all fluff! reader has the flu, tae is a sweet sweet boi and takes care of her, it's all a bit sappy~ 🤧

A/N: happy new year!!! and a very happy belated birthday to my capricorn prince 💜 this soft little idea got stuck in my brain and wouldn't let go, and i had a lot more fun writing it than expected. plus i feel like i only wrote tae as a menace in 2022 (sorry to tae 👹) so i had to right my wrongs with this one lmao. it was a nice interlude before i jump into LDOMLT ch11 (the final chapter 😭) - i hope you all enjoy and that your 2023s are off to a pleasant start!!!

read on AO3!

~*~

You genuinely enjoy being single.

With your last relationship officially in the trash, you’ve found yourself settled into a comfortable peace. There’s no man in your life to mess up your plans, to force you to have to compromise or share anything, to suck up your energy and domestic labor like some kind of emotional vampire. You can do what you want, whenever you want, and you have a reliable rotation of both sex toys and fuckbuddies to keep you physically satisfied when the need arises.

Being single, you have come to learn, is fucking great.

Except when you get sick.

A knock at your apartment door drags you out of your DayQuil-induced slumber. You move to sit up with a sniffle before letting yourself drop back into your veritable nest of blankets on the couch, struck with the immediate recollection: it’s just the food you ordered. You’d specifically put in a request that they leave it at the door, but maybe the delivery person is just being nice and letting you know it’s there.

Except then they knock again.

And ring the doorbell.

“Jesus,” you groan to yourself, aggressively enough that you’re nearly sent into a fresh coughing fit, but you manage to choke down the spasm in your lungs as you drag yourself to standing. You cross the short distance from your couch to the front door, sure you look like death warmed over, and swing the door open.

At first, you’re certain it’s the DayQuil fucking with you.

“Taehyung?”

The corner of his mouth pulls up as he blinks sweetly at you, expressive almond eyes peeking out beneath untidy dark hair— extra fluffy today, like he’s just washed it and waltzed out of the house without any styling. His clothes tell the same story, a plain gray hoodie and joggers, creased a little like he’d just pulled them off his bedroom floor, though everything looks fresh off the runway on him.

As your eyes trail down his frame, you take in the container of ramen you ordered, held easily in one of his large hands, his long fingers hooking over the side.

His presence is typically a welcome one, particularly on Friday nights like tonight, but those are circumstances where you tend to be a little more… put together. So why is he here tonight?

“When did you start working for D—”

The food delivery service name dies on your tongue as your thoughts finally catch up with your mouth. He’s here tonight because it’s Friday, and this is what you do on Fridays. He’s here because you didn’t cancel. You’d had the thought in a drowsy half-awake state between naps, then had promptly rolled over and pressed your face into the pillow, telling yourself you’d remember to text Taehyung when you woke up.

Which of course, you did not. And so here he is, having clearly intercepted your delivery. And, it now occurs to you, having to witness how absolutely godawful you must look in your stained sweatpants, your hair surely a mess from a day spent napping on the couch.

“Oh fuck,” you mutter, quickly crossing your arms over your baggy t-shirt, suddenly very aware of the fact that you’re not wearing a bra. Why that matters when you’re standing in front of a man who regularly leaves hickeys all over your tits, you’re not sure, but in this moment it somehow feels like it does.

“Tae,” you take a step back, trying to keep him out of your germ radius. “I’m so sorry, I forgot to text you. I’m super sick, I think it’s the flu. You should go.”

He frowns a little, his eyes jumping from you down to the takeout container in his hands. “This is like, barely warm.”

That makes you smile a little despite yourself. A very Taehyung greeting.

“Yeah, well.” You roll your eyes. “I pay twice as much so it can take an hour and be cold by the time it gets here. Makes sense, right?”

His dazzling smile at your sarcastic remark only heightens your own self-consciousness, and you quickly extend a hand for the container.

“Sorry to make you come all this way. Hopefully next week I’ll be back to normal.”

Taehyung nods, yet makes no move to hand over the soup he’s currently holding hostage. “You should rest. Let me heat it up for you.”

You can’t help but wonder what he expects to happen when he crosses the threshold, and that makes you heave a sigh, then quickly bury the cough that chases after it into the crook of your elbow.

Thankfully your voice doesn’t give out when you manage to answer him. “I’m serious, Tae. I’m not—” you pause, considering how to phrase it: desperate to be railed? “—you know, the way I usually am on Fridays. Nothing’s gonna happen tonight. Except maybe you’ll get sick.”

He shrugs, like there are worse things. “I get it. But you shouldn’t be alone.”

At least he’s been sufficiently warned, you think to yourself, and then you relent, leaving the front door of your apartment swung wide as you step back across the living room to promptly collapse onto the couch again. You bury your face in the blankets with a muffled groan as you hear Taehyung shut the door behind him, then make his way into the kitchen.

As is typical with any man that enters your kitchen, you expect to have to walk Taehyung step-by-step through how to do everything. But, to your surprise, he asks no questions: he seems to find a good-sized pot and figure out how to work the stove all on his own, and you can hear him humming softly to himself as he goes.

Truly a credit to the male species, you think to yourself with a bitter laugh.

You collapse back against the cushions, a little too aware of the fuckbuddy in your kitchen to be able to drift off to sleep entirely. Nevertheless, you still find yourself slipping into a haze, your eyes dropping shut just to snap open again at the tap of a bowl being set down on the coffee table in front of you.

Your eyes widen as you sit up and stare down at your ramen, only to find two halves of a soft-boiled egg staring back up at you. You’d ordered from your favorite place in the city, which is easily the best ramen you’ve had in your life, but you know those fuckers charge extra for an egg. Which is why your cheap ass never orders one.

But here one is. So that means…

Taehyung drops down onto the couch next to you before you can even finish compiling the thought in your brain, but he must be able to read the look on your face. “Oh, do you not like eggs?”

“I— no,” you answer quickly. “I mean yes. I mean, I like them, I just… Thank you.”

You glance up in time to see him shrug, his mouth twisting a little, like he’s suddenly made shy by his own kindness. “Gotta get your protein in,” he offers casually, and you laugh over the steam rising up from your bowl.

He keeps a tentative cushion’s distance away from you, but you can feel his eyes watching as you take your first sip of the rich, warm broth. While you slurp it down, you tell yourself not to get greedy with Taehyung’s time: you expect this will be it, that with his act of kindness done for the day, he’ll get to his feet and be on his way. As soon as your front door slams shut behind him, he’ll probably be pulling up his text messages with one of the many other options that must be available to him.

You try to ignore the way that thought makes your stomach twist, to just eat your damn soup and not think about it. It’s fine. It doesn’t matter.

But to your surprise, Taehyung leans forward and snatches the TV remote off your coffee table with a triumphant sigh before slumping back against the couch, like he’s settling in. “Do you wanna watch something?”

You shake your head as you take another sip before answering. “You really don’t have to stay, Tae. I can appreciate that I’m not a lot of fun to be around tonight. And obviously you didn’t come here to watch me eat ramen.”

Already starting to scroll through your streaming services, Taehyung runs his free hand through his hair with a knowing, slightly horny smile. “Depends on what you mean by eat ramen.”

You nearly choke on a noodle, but he’s otherwise distracted, mouth dropping open a little as he clicks into one of the options.

“Oh, I know what we can watch.”

When he pulls up A Charlie Brown Christmas and promptly presses play, you can’t help smirking. “Christmas? You’re, what, five days late?”

Taehyung’s mouth opens again, like he’s going to say something, and then he just smiles that same self-conscious smile. “Ah, I just like the music.”

His long fingers splay out in front of him, miming along to the opening melody while he adopts the faux-cool expression of a jazz pianist. You hide a giggle in another sip of broth, and he quickly shrugs the impression off, crossing his arms over his chest as if to keep his limbs under control.

“And it’s cute,” he adds, voice halfway between shy and sentimental. “The little tree.”

It occurs to you now that you’ve never seen Taehyung so… your brain can’t find the right word. He’s just different tonight.

You nod as you slurp up a strand of noodles, and you can’t deny that he’s right as the movie plays on. It’s been years since you’ve seen it, not since you were a kid, but it’s just as enjoyable now, somehow timeless. You find yourself smiling softly as you finish your meal and settle back against the couch, tugging the blanket up to your chin.

All at once, Taehyung jumps up, and you watch dumbfounded as he silently scoops up your dishes and disappears off to the kitchen. When you hear the tap switch on, your jaw drops in sheer disbelief, and you sit up again, peeking over the back of the couch to get a glimpse of him: he’s pulled on the dishwashing gloves you keep tucked next to the sink and is making short work of not just the bowl and the pot, but the takeout container too, and your various other sick-person dishes you’d regrettably let pile up. Humming to himself along with Vince Guaraldi, like it’s something he does every day.

Your head spins as you drop back down against the cushion. What is happening? Did you take too much cold medicine?

That thought only reverberates louder in your brain when he returns, still humming the last few notes of the song. This time he chooses to settle in right beside you on the couch, as if entirely unconcerned about the contagious virus running rampant in your body— he just pulls you into his side, one arm wrapped over your shoulders, fingertips casually starting to play with the ends of your hair. Like it’s that easy.

You glance up at him, shaking your head a little, and Taehyung looks down to meet your gaze. “What?”

“This is just…” An incredulous laugh cuts off the end of your sentence. It’s hard to believe you’re looking at the same person. This can’t be the man who wraps his hand around your throat as he spits into your mouth, who will keep you in his bed for hours until you’re crying from overstimulation, who fucks you so good you can hardly walk the next day.

“I didn’t expect you to be like this,” you admit, pairing the words with a finger driven gently into Taehyung’s ribs. He squirms a little. “You’re… sweet.”

Taehyung’s lips part, and then he pauses, clearly considering how exactly to answer you. His mouth turns up soft at the corners, hesitant, as if he’s embarrassed to say what comes next. And then he says it. “You didn’t seem like you wanted sweet.”

The words settle over you, offered quietly in the low, rich tones of his voice, and as you keep gazing up at him, it strikes you: he’s not wrong. If he’d pulled this cozy domestic housewife act on you any earlier, on a normal Friday, you would’ve sent him packing without hesitation.

That thought makes you a little sad.

You tuck back in against Taehyung’s side, trying to refocus on the TV screen as you snuggle in under the blanket. Pressed close like this, you can feel the sturdy thud of his heartbeat in his chest, at a rhythm not dissimilar to yours.

“Well, I won’t tell anyone,” you breathe, and you swear you can hear him smile.

His touch lingers as the last few minutes of the movie play on: slipping from the ends of your hair to trace over the fabric of your shirt, then sliding further up to dip beneath the collar of it. The talented fingers you’ve become well-acquainted with work their magic in a new way, pressing firm circles into the muscles of your shoulders, muscles you didn’t realize were pinched so tight until he starts to work them open.

“Fuck,” you murmur, shifting a little to allow him better access as he continues. “That feels so good.” You can’t quite help the laugh that flutters out after your words; it’s certainly not the first time he’s made you say them.

There’s a small huff of breath from Taehyung beside you, and then his hand moves up to cup the back of your neck and give a gentle squeeze. It’s a comforting motion, and just arousing enough to make you sigh a note, your eyes briefly dropping shut. When they flutter open again, you realize the movie has ended, that he’s looking down at you, a knowing smirk toying at his lips.

“Don’t start,” you warn, unable to keep your voice entirely serious. “I meant what I said, I’m tapped out for the night.”

Taehyung raises his palms in the air, as if to claim his innocence, and you find yourself instantly missing the heat of his hand on your skin. “All I was thinking is that I kinda want dessert. Too tapped out for that?”

“I’ll never say no to dessert,” you admit with a soft smile. “I think I have ice cream in the freezer.”

Something glints in Taehyung’s eyes at your words. All at once he untangles himself from you and, rather than standing up and walking the long way around like a normal human, chooses instead to vault himself over the back of the couch, as if to get your freezer as fast as possible. You tip back against the cushions, momentarily overcome with laughter, and thankfully, it doesn’t trigger a cough attack.

After a second, you cocoon the blanket around yourself, then get up to follow after him, dropping unceremoniously down onto one of the barstools tucked on the far side of your kitchen island.

Taehyung glances up, clearly surprised, then continues trying drawers until he finds the silverware and retrieves two spoons.

“Just want to keep you company,” you say by way of explanation as he hands you one, and you reach down to pry off the lid of the pint of chocolate ice cream he’s set down on the counter. It’s only as you glance up again that you realize he’s grabbed something else, too, and is continuing to rummage through your cupboards. “Wait, what are you doing?”

There’s an innocent look on Taehyung’s face as he rights himself, the handle of a pan clutched in one hand. “I found something when I was looking for the ice cream. It’s my favorite. And I thought it might make you feel better, too.”

“Uh huh,” you intone, though your mouth is already starting to tick up, endeared. “A completely selfless act, I’m sure.”

“Of course it is,” he answers with an over-exaggerated wink, flipping the pan cooly in his grip. You squint at the bag as he thuds it down on the counter beside him, then sets the pan on the stove and flips on the burner beneath it.

Hotteok. You’d completely forgotten you’d even picked the bag of frozen sweet pancakes up a few weeks ago, that you had purposefully tucked them into the back of your fridge for a particularly good— or bad— day.

“Chef Kim,” you ask, feigning the tone of a journalist conducting an important interview as you fish your phone out of the pocket of your sweatpants. “Can I interest you in some background music, or do you prefer to cook in absolute silence?”

Taehyung glances back over his shoulder at you, his grin nearly too big for his face. “How about Sinatra?”

You raise one eyebrow at the admittedly unexpected suggestion. “Frank or Nancy?”

He pauses for a moment, as if considering. “Either.”

It’s only a few taps, and then Come Fly With Me is floating out of your Bluetooth speaker, and Taehyung is singing along to himself as he drops a frozen disc onto the heated pan, occasionally turning back to deliver lines to you with an extended hand.

You roll your eyes as you drag your spoon through the top layer of softening ice cream, sucking it into your mouth in an attempt to hide the grin that’s spread over your face.

By the third song you find yourself humming along too, trying not to put too much strain on your still-weak throat. The kitchen has started to smell of sweet, toasted dough as Taehyung works diligently at the stove, and he finally flips the burner off before turning back to you, a plate in each hand and a thick pancake stacked atop each plate.

“Sous chef, will you please apply the ice cream?” he asks, eyes wide and blinking as he sets the dishes down.

Quickly playing along, you nod as you begin to scoop a healthy amount onto each plate. “Yes, chef!”

“And sous chef, do you, uh… have any chocolate sauce?”

You bite back a laugh as his roleplay falls apart as quickly as it began. “It’s in the fridge.”

Taehyung promptly turns and pulls the door open, eyes searching the shelves before he finally spots the dark brown bottle and lets out a triumphant hum. He nudges the fridge shut again with his hip before striding back toward you.

“Plating is key,” he muses. You answer with an appreciative nod and a giggle when he uncaps the sauce, then leans down close to the plates, feigning intense focus as he drizzles each dollop of ice cream with stripes of chocolate.

Once his artful design is complete, he steps back, his tongue toying at the corner of his mouth as he spins one plate to admire his handiwork.

“What do you think, chef?” you tease, and he nods once, decisive.

“It’s perfect.” He glances up, shooting you a grin that knocks the breath from your lungs, and you try to collect yourself as he nudges a plate toward you, encouraging you to take a bite.

You carve your spoon through the pastry, right down the middle where it’s stuffed full of sweet brown sugar syrup. The flaky layers pull apart at the impact, warm enough that you can see steam rising off of the golden dough. You pair a small piece of pancake with a wedge of ice cream on your spoon, then bring both into your mouth at once, and the contrasting mixtures linger on your tongue: hot and cold, sticky sugar chased by rich chocolate. It’s so good that you can’t help but make a soft, appreciative noise as you press your hand to your mouth and chew.

“Do you want to know something?” Taehyung’s voice pulls your attention back, and you look up at him.

“What?”

“Today’s my birthday.”

There’s a split second where you wonder if this is another imagined scenario, and then your eyes widen as you take in the look on his face and realize he’s entirely serious.

“Wait, Taehyung, really?”

He nods once, bringing a spoonful of ice cream to his lips.

“I-I had no idea,” you stammer, suddenly feeling like an asshole. His birthday, and he’s here waiting on you hand and foot, while you haven’t so much as said a word of felicitations. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry.”

As soon as the words leave your mouth, he’s waving away your apology with his spoon, then proceeding to answer around his bite of food. “It’s not like I expected you to know. I don’t really make a big deal of it.” He shrugs. “I tend to… I don't know. I get sort of melancholy this time of year. The holidays, my birthday. It’s a lot all at once. A lot of pressure. To be happy. To have everything figured out.”

Nodding slowly, you let his words fully wash over you before you respond. “I get that,” you finally murmur, working off another piece of hotteok. “Nobody ever talks about it, but I feel like birthdays are kinda weird as an adult. You have enough of them and it just starts to feel like a day, you know? Not special.”

“I usually find myself just hiding out, waiting for it to be over,” Taehyung admits.

You take a second to think back. “Yeah. I didn’t even do anything on my birthday this year.” A self-pitying laugh rises up before you can stop it. “Honestly, this whole year was such a flop. I’m glad it’s nearly done.”

Taehyung makes a face like he can’t disagree. “Hey, sometimes that’s life.” He pauses, brow furrowing slightly, then reaches a palm across the table. “Can I play a song?”

“Go ahead,” you offer, pushing your phone into his hand. You scrape your spoon along your dwindling dessert, and haven’t even managed to bring the assembled bite to your mouth before the music changes— from one Frank Sinatra song to another, this one with a driving blues rhythm.

Taehyung is already on his feet, hips starting to sway. “Ah, come on. You have to dance with me.”

He’s closed the distance between you before you can even protest, his hands smoothing across the blanket still wrapped over your shoulders.

“Let me take your coat, ma’am.”

You shift off the stool and onto your feet with a smile as he unwraps the blanket from around you and tosses it toward the back of the couch, missing by at least a foot.

“Why thank you,” you tease, feigning some kind of Transatlantic lilt to your voice that makes him really laugh. “Such a gentleman.”

Taehyung turns to face you again, and then you feel his large hand pressing to the small of your back, warm even through the fabric of your shirt, and your heart stutters a little. You take his other hand in yours and let him lead, let him pull you all the way in until you can turn your head and press your cheek to the firm plane of his chest.

Frank Sinatra croons on about how you can’t let life get you down, and suddenly there’s a weight settling in the pit of your stomach.

“I feel bad, Taehyung,” you admit, and when you glance up at him, he’s looking right back down at you. “That you’re here with me tonight.”

“Why?” he asks, like he really doesn’t know.

“Because,” you shake your head. “I don’t know. There’s a million better places you could be. I can’t even give you birthday sex.”

“I wouldn’t have stayed if I didn’t want to,” he answers simply, then leans back, guiding you under his arm for a spin.

A little giggle bubbles up in your chest, catches on the first syllable of your reply as you twirl. “A-are you sure?”

Taehyung nods, thoughtful, when you come back to center again. “This is a good reminder that… I like taking care of people. It’s been a while since anyone’s let me.” The hand holding yours gives a gentle squeeze, and you can’t help but squeeze back.

“Well, thank you for taking care of me,” you answer softly. “You did a good job. Pretty sure I’m on the mend already.” You blink up at him through your lashes, and the way his eyes are fixed on you makes your heart squeeze, too.

It’s nearly overwhelming, taking him in like this, close enough that you can see every stray beauty mark kissed over his handsome features. Fluffy-haired, big-dicked Kim Taehyung— who would’ve thought?

Taehyung’s adam’s apple jerks in his throat as he swallows, and you feel a sudden rush of heat all over, one you don’t quite think you can blame on a fever. It hardly even occurs to you that the two of you have come to a complete standstill now, barefoot in the middle of your kitchen, Taehyung’s palm pressed to your back, the fingers of your joined hands now shifting to lace together.

“Taehyung,” you’re breathing his name before you even realize it. “Would you… want to stay here tonight? Like, sleep together, literally?”

The smile that flashes over his face is nothing short of brilliant. “Yeah, okay.”

Your voice dips a little lower, teasing, as you smile back. “I really do think I’m feeling better, so. Maybe in the morning I can take care of you, too.”

Taehyung’s fingers brush the length of your jaw, then reach up to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear as you continue.

“I’ve got this spray that makes my throat totally numb, so.”

He pauses, his mouth so close to yours that you can feel his breath ghosting over your skin, but he can’t quite keep a straight face. “Fuck, why is that so sexy?”

You’re laughing against his lips when he kisses you.

#taehyung fluff #taehyung x reader #taehyung x y/n #bts fluff #bts x reader

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routeless-writer · 11 months ago

Note

hello, i hope your day is going well! i'd like to request some cuddles with lilia and any other characters you'd like to add. just simple cuddles, maybe some playful moments, pure fluff, if that's okay!

Oh what I wouldn't give to pull Lilia into a several hour long cuddle sesh. Sevens know that poor man needs it, with how busy he is and how much he's gone through. I'm more than happy to give you some fluffy headcanons with the bat hubby, hun, and I hope your day/night is also going well! I stuck with just Lilsy for time's sake, but I'd be happy to do this with any of the others in the future.

MC pronouns: none, GN/implied they/them

CW: reader having hair mention, Lilia liking to spook the reader awake (just a little)

Listening to: Galactic Bloom (Bee and Puppycat OST)

Lilia’s very flexible when it comes to love languages, but physical touch is probably up there near the top of his list

He’s a clingy little fucker, and once he’s comfortable with you, he’ll hang off of you a lot. It’s something he does to everyone he cares about–the kids, his friends, and now you!

He’ll even start to initiate snuggles in public, nuzzling into your side and wrapping his arms around you. He’s quick to pull off when he needs to, though not without a huff or a couple complaints. When y’all get home, on the other hand…

He’s so goddamn domestic. He’s on you like whiskers on a cat and he just will. Not. Let. Go. We’re talking following you to the kitchen, round the house/dorm, and back while his face is pressed up against your back.

The second you sit down he’s jumping on you and shoving his head into the crook of your neck, wrapping his arms and legs around you, and making soft purring noises. (Bats can and will purr btw. I love bats and I love him <3)

He’s down for you to nap while he cuddles you, if you want. As a fae, and a nocturnal one at that, he doesn’t need much sleep, so he’s more than likely awake while you cuddle. If you’re also awake, he may poke you or boop your nose.

He likes to talk while you chill, but if you’re not in much of a talking mood and just want to be in his presence, he’ll read, dm you memes, or rest his eyes. He may also simply make little clicking or squeak sounds at you as a form of nonverbal interaction. (He’ll do this throughout the day anyways. If you squeak back he’ll fall in love all over again. He also does it across the room/house/dorm to get your attention.)

He looooves running his fingers through your hair or having you touch his. He might give you a few playful kisses or nips at your cheeks, lips, and neck.

If you have to get up, he’ll totally complain about it.

“But darling, you’re so warm. Don’t leave me…”

He’s SUCH a pouty baby about it. Don’t worry, he’ll get his revenge by surprise cuddling you later. Sometimes, if you’re asleep in bed, he’ll hover above you and wake you up while hanging upside down to freak you out, and while you’re distracted, tackle hug you.

And then keep you there for hours, once again. Quite a bit of your relationship is spent on cutesy, domestic things like this. Laying in bed all day on your off days, making meals for him while he’s stuck to you (do NOT let him help), cleaning together, shopping together, reading on opposite sides of the couch and looking up every ten minutes to smile at each other…

He’s a busy guy! As a student, Malleus’ caretaker, and more importantly, the boys’ parent, he’s got a lot on his plate, so he likes to spend as much downtime as he can with you. So, if that means trying to convince you with puppy dog eyes to snuggle up with him for another hour or so, then so be it. <3

︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶ navigation ︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶ divider credit ︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶ m.list ︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

#twst #lilia vanrouge #twisted wonderland #lilia vanrouge x reader #twst lilia #twisted wonderland lilia #twisted wonderland x reader #mdni

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nowritingonthewall · 11 months ago

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Hi! Can I ask for some random and domestic Poe HC? 🤧

Hello Nonnie, thank you so much for your request! I am sorry that my hcs always appear to escalate into mini-essays, I hope that you enjoy them anyway 🥰

!Content warning for allusions to past trauma (because it’s Poe) but it’s mostly fluffy!

Domestic headcanons with Poe (x gn!reader)

- If you were honest, you would never have expected Poe to actually settle down after the Battle of Exegol and the fall of the First Order. After all, he had been on the run since he had been 16 years old, his family a bunch of rebels, his home scattered across the stars. You had fully expected him to make his new job as a flying instructor his whole new life, filling every second with something exciting to do, always chasing the next thrill, never slowing down and let himself think for even a minute.

Instead, after helping the New Republic to get back on its feet, he had put most of his energy and devotion into making a home with you.

Even though he loves his job teaching students (and spending a lot of time in his x-wing while doing so), he always makes sure to finish on time so that he can spend as much of the remainder of the day with you as possible. It has become one of your daily little rituals for you to wait for him, sitting on your porch, two mugs of freshly brewed caf in your hands. It never stops warming your heart to see that gorgeous crinkly-eyed smile lighting up his face as soon as he sees you waiting for him. Giving you an adorable little wave, he always quickens his pace before pulling you into a long and heartfelt hug.

Watching the suns painting the sky with the most beautiful colours imaginable, you’ll sit snuggled up against each other, listening to each other's daily adventures.

It usually doesn’t take long before Poe’s head grows heavy against your shoulders. The first few times he tried to fight it and wouldn’t stop apologizing, no matter how often you tried to assure him that you didn’t mind at all. But soon these late afternoon or early evening naps become just another part of your daily routine.

Poe spent more than half his life making sure that everyone around him felt safe. Now, with the war becoming a more and more distant memory each day, it’s like his mind finally allows his body to catch up on all the rest that he has been denied during all those years – finally feeling safe in your arms.

And there really aren’t a lot of things that you enjoy more than holding your sleepy boy with his head resting in your lap, one hand intertwined with his, as the other one plays with his hair. You smile at every patch of grey that you find among his inky curls, more than grateful to be given the precious gift of being allowed to watch him grow old with you. It makes the warmest and fuzziest feelings bloom inside your heart to see his worry lines relax under the soft touch of your hand as you listen to his content mumbling and cutest little sighs.

- He still can’t sleep without you around, though. Whenever he is in dire need of a nap, and the weather has gone too cold to sit outside, even under a heap of cuddly blankets, he’ll sit down on the couch, look at you with the most irresistible baby ewok eyes and his softest smile and tap on his chest to ask for his favourite human blanket.

Sometimes he falls asleep within seconds as soon as you snuggle up to him. Sometimes he finds that it wasn’t sleep that he craved after all but simply the comforting presence of you right next to him, listening to the soothing rhythm of your breathing as you drift into peaceful slumber until his breath synchronizes with yours in perfect harmony. And sometimes your planned naps turn into Poe and you talking nonsense for hours, exchanging forehead kisses and nose rubs between giggles.

Poe used to think that the only way to escape the constantly reoccurring ringing in his ears was to drown it out with something even louder. Now he realizes that all he needs to find relief is the soft warmth of you lying on top of him, the shape of your bodies fitting together as perfectly as if they had been custom made for each other.

- And he allows himself to take his time with everything that he does. No more bone crushing hugs that aren’t allowed to last longer than a second and that he’d hoped would convey everything that he hadn’t time for to tell you in case he wouldn’t make it back from a mission. No more quick and chaste kisses to whatever body part they would land on before hurrying off into the next briefing or meeting.

Now he makes sure to pour all of his undying love for you into every single hug until you feel nothing but warm and safe and cared for. Every kiss of him shows you that you are the centre of his universe, from the very first kiss in the morning to the last kiss goodnight. They have become so much more tender and gentler, yet they never leave a single trace of doubt about his feelings for you.

Quick shared showers that used to be a practical necessity turn into long shared baths that last until the water turns cold. Sometimes when you aren’t ready to step out of your cocoon of warmth just yet, you wrap each other in fluffy towels and make yourself comfortable on the heating unit waiting until you’re dried off.

As you cuddle up to each other, enjoying the closeness, you find a new softness and gentleness to your relationship that you had never thought possible. You are no longer clinging to each other for dear life, always scared that you might lose each other the next minute, constantly feeling like loving on borrowed time.

And Poe takes his time rediscovering and getting to know you all over again. Gently scrubbing your back in the bath or giving you a long tension-relieving massage. Learning everything there is to know about how you take care of your hair, while committing every single detail about you to memory. Not because he fears that every time might be the very last chance to do so but because he decided to commit every single fibre of his heart and soul to loving you. Because he chooses you. Over and over again.

It takes a while for him to get comfortable letting you take care of him the same way that he takes care of you. Yet every time it is your turn to hold him in the bathtub, he finds it a little easier to relax against your chest, melting into your embrace a little deeper. With every soft kiss pressed to his temple, he manages to let go a little further. As he rests his cheek against yours, while your hands are slowly caressing over his arms, he has never felt more vulnerable and at the same time more safe and protected than during those moments.

That’s when the tears tend to flow.

Those are the days when you make sure to take extra good care of him. Letting him rest his head against your shoulder as you carefully pat his back with a towel, gently kissing his tears away before placing a soft kiss on every single one of his scars, putting pain relieving lotion on his arm and massaging his tense shoulder. Only a few months ago this kind of special treatment would have made him feel more than uncomfortable. Seeing his own needs through your loving eyes, he slowly begins to accept that it is okay to take them seriously. And as he curls up against your chest, he doesn’t only allow it but he knows that he can completely trust you to take care of him.

- Poe has always loved to dance. Nearly as much as he loves to cuddle with you. Sadly, the days of the Resistance hadn’t exactly given you a lot of opportunity to do so and reasons to break into celebratory dances had been all too rare. So now he takes any chance he gets to hug you from behind, snuggle up as close to you as possible, rest his head on your shoulder and his cheek against yours while swaying the both of you to some music coming from your holopad or to a secret rhythm that only the two of you seem to be able to feel.

You dance in the morning while waiting for the first few cups of caf to brew, while waiting for something yummy baking in the oven, when you’re trying to dust the shelves, or while doing the dishes.

Doing the dishes never becomes a boring task with Poe. If he doesn’t turn it into a dance, there are bound to be lather battles that more often than not turn into tickle fights. And they always end with him using the dish cloth to draw you in for a long and wobbly-knees-inducing kiss.

This is also where most of your more serious conversations take place. It’s always been easier for Poe to talk about difficult topics while his hands have something to do. So whenever you feel like there’s something on his mind that he has trouble talking about, you’ll ask him “dish discussion?”, to which he answers with a relieved smile.

And, of course, should the topic require some serious hugging action, you can always continue your discussion on the kitchen floor, which proves over and over again to be the best place to solve any problem imaginable. And in case one of you should be in need of an even more comforting atmosphere, your kitchen cabinet features an extra compartment containing all the components required to build a blanket fort. It’s a habit that goes back to the early days of you joining the Resistance. And afterwards your blanket fort of safety can easily be converted into a blanket fort of romantic dinners and cuddle sessions.

- The two of you share a little garden with Rey, who doesn’t live too far away from you (I am sorry, LEGO, I refuse to believe that the trio would ever split up!). At least it was a little garden in the beginning. It all started when Poe noticed how Rey’s eyes would start to sparkle whenever she came across anything lush and green. So he began to present her with a special plant from every place that he visited. Pretty soon even her house was too small to accommodate her (not so) little personal jungle, so you helped her turning her backyard into a little garden. Which just kept on expanding. Because it never stopped warming Poe’s heart to see the way Rey’s face shining brighter than the suns whenever he found a new exotic plant for her.

He helped her create her special place of happiness both in her mind and in the physical world and you two are the only ones apart from Finn she trusts to take care of it. Even if your and Poe’s gardening sessions sometimes turn into several rounds of mud wrestling or splashy water fights.

Poe’s first very own gardening project featured the planting of a row of koyo trees. They weren’t even supposed to be able to grow in this climate but Poe Dameron has never been one to let logic or reason stand in the way of matters close to his heart. After all, he had managed to nurse a force tree back to health without any jedi tricks. And maybe Rey’s and Finn’s way with the force helped a little, too. Though he will always tell everyone willing (or maybe not too willing) to listen that it was your loving care that made the trees grow and flourish and bloom in the end.

His proud little face when he was able to harvest the very first fruit is another one of your many precious and treasured memories. Of course he let you have the first bite, almost a little nervous about your reaction.

The original plan was to turn the fruits into juice and jelly and lots of cakes. Which was a good plan. And it probably would have worked if the koyo fruits hadn’t been so damn tasty that you ate most of them before they ever had a chance to land in a basket. And what better way to spend the last days of summer than sitting lazily in the cool shadow of a koyo tree, taking turns to lie in each others lap while feeding each other freshly picked koyo fruits?

- During the nights when neither of you is able to sleep, you’ll climb onto the roof of your house, which offers a snug little platform that provides the perfect secluded retreat to lie on your back and gaze at all the stars in the galaxy. A galaxy that’s finally at peace.

Poe’s gaze keeps wandering back to you, though, and every time it does, he can’t stop smiling. As soon as you notice, you’ll snuggle a little closer to cradle his head and place the softest little kiss on his forehead, making him smile even wider. Softly stroking your cheek, he returns the kiss. On your nose, on your temple, across your jaw line, all over both of your cheeks, and everywhere he can reach.

You finally dare to make plans for the future again. Talking about all the stars and systems and planets you would like to explore together. Without rush, without being constantly on your guard, actually being able to look forward to visiting them.

The important thing is that Poe is no longer driven by the uncontrollable need to chase every single one of them. Because he has his own little galaxy lying right here by his side.

#poe dameron #star wars #poe dameron x reader #poe x reader #poe dameron x you #reader insert #poe dameron headcanon #fanfiction #poe dameron fanfiction #chrissie tries to write #chrissie gifs

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blueraineshadows · 1 year ago

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A request if I may?

f!mc + Ominis fluffy/angst

I dont know if you're familiar with Isaac Cooper in the game, but according to all the npc voice lines about him around Hogwarts, he's A star quidditch player whos very popular and handsome. Lots of npcs seem to gush about him. You can actually find his house near seb's in feldcroft! He seems to be in Gryffindor.

Anyway, for the purpose of this, Im picturing him being a total ladies man who's very full of himself and not used to rejection. Can you write about him relentlessly perusing MC but she always shuts him down (much to Ominis' amusement, he feels a bit insecure) like he keeps interrupting her study sessions with Omi and it gets to the point where she has enough and yells at him in class, or in the great hall, somewhere public where everyone witnesses it lol. Afterword, not wanting this to continue, omi hears issac approaching them AGAIN, he's fed up and he suddenly pulls MC into a kiss to deter him. MC reciprocates. They get together finally, then Isaac buggers off for good lol.

I love this request! 😀 💜 Also, I know the house you mean in Feldcroft, but I hadn't made the connection - love that!

Ominis Gaunt x F!MC 💚

"Oh, they are lovely, MC! Who are they from?" Poppy asked. She leant forward to sniff the little bunch of red roses that were sitting on the table in front of MC. There were curled red and gold ribbons tied around the thorn-free stems, a most thoughtful gift for a Gryffindor.

MC stared at the flowers that had arrived over breakfast, her cheeks a lovely pink. She had absolutely no idea who they were from. The card simply read, 'Hero of Hogwarts, you have my heart.'

Poppy read the little card and sighed. "Oh, it's so romantic."

"But, I have no idea who sent them! It's not even Valentine's Day," MC said.

"Clearly, you have an admirer, MC," Poppy said. She leant in with a smile. "Enjoy it!"

MC spent the rest of the day suspiciously eyeing any boy who came near her, wondering who had sent such lovely flowers.

The next morning, there was a cute poem waiting for her, describing how beautiful she was. MC folded the parchment quickly, blushing, her eyes scanning the hall. Who was this?

....*....

Ominis tapped his quill thoughtfully against his lips, his study books open on the library table, but his mind was very much elsewhere. Beside him, he could feel the reassuring presence of MC, her delicate scent a familiar comfort, and the occasional brush of her arm against his an exquisite torture.

He was fuming, quietly seething. Every day this week, MC had been receiving beautiful gifts from a secret admirer. Envy slithered in his belly. They were just the kind of gifts that he would himself send, but he was apparently an utter coward, because he had done no such thing. His fear of her rejection had made him hide his affection for MC, but now some usurper was muscling in on his most favourite girl. It irritated him no end, especially when he didnt know who this wretched cad was.

"Are you quite alright, Ominis?" MC asked. "You look like you're about to snap that quill in two."

He attempted to relax his tense muscles and put down his quill. "Apologies, MC, I was miles away," he said. "I didn't sleep so well is all, not too worry."

He heard her little sigh of concern, and then her hand was clasping his. "My poor Omi," she said. She leant in a little closer. "We have History of Magic this afternoon, feel free to use my shoulder as a pillow if you need a nap. I won't disturb you."

Oh, how he loved her! She knew just the right things to say to lift his spirits. He smiled and gave her hand a squeeze. "What would I do without you, MC?"

....*....

The breeze was brisk but the sky clear as the Gryffindor Quidditch team took part in practise. MC was seated in the stands, eyes on the sky, watching as her friends Natty and Garreth zoomed to and fro. She had considered signing up for the team, but had found it difficult to find the time. Being in 7th year, there was so much studying to do and she wanted to concentrate on that.

As practise was coming to an end, the players were gathering on the ground, and MC wandered over to speak with Natty. Footsteps fell in beside her and she looked up into the very handsome face of Isaac Cooper. Immediately MC blushed, a very natural reaction around the Quidditch star chaser. He was tall, athletic, his smile bordering on beautiful. There was not a soul who could fail to falter in their steps when he bestowed that smile on you.

Unfortunately, he knew it. He had a trail of broken hearts behind him, and no doubt would continue to collect them for the foreseeable future. Whilst he was most handsome and charming, MC didn't really see herself becoming the latest notch on his broomstick.

"Hello, MC," he greeted, warmly. "It's great to see you here today. You didn't fancy joining us for a little practise? I hear you are an excellent flyer, I wouldn't mind getting to see that."

Her lips parted a little as she looked up at him. Her blush deepened, much to her chagrin. "Oh, well, I did consider it, but decided not to in the end," she said.

His face slipped into one of disappointment, and she felt a twinge of regret. Despite herself, she was slipping under his charm.

"That's a real shame," he said. He dared to lean a little closer. "Although, I bet you look rather fetching in Quidditch kit. You might be too much of a distraction for me."

His wink was ridiculously charming, and then he was gone, a sexy smirk on his lips as he marched off to join the others. MC tugged at her collar, and swallowed. Had he just openly flirted with her? Flustered beyond belief, she hurried for Natty, annoyed with herself for letting him get to her so.

....*....

MC gathered her Charms text book and notes, packing up to leave class. She was about to join Ominis, her usual walking partner on the way to lunch, when a hand caught her elbow. She looked up into Issac's sparkling eyes, a little gasp leaving her lips.

He smiled. "May I walk you to lunch?"

MC's eyes widened. "Oh, I... I usually walk with Ominis," she said.

She glanced across at her Slytherin friend and noticed he had paused, listening. She felt a blush stain her cheeks. Not because of Isaac, but because she felt her heart squeeze at the delicate turn of Ominis' head, the disappointment gathering around his mouth.

Isaac followed her gaze, a slight frown creasing his perfect brow. "Ah, I see," he said. He sighed, a sad little look on his face. He put his hand to his heart. "I would be most honoured if you did walk with me, MC, but seeing as you already have arrangements, perhaps you will do me the honour another time."

MC stood there, flushed and amazed, as Issac tucked a stand of hair behind her ear with a soft smile and left the class.

Ominis appeared at her side. "I hope you are not falling for his little tricks," he hissed. MC looked at him, eyebrows lifting at the tense way he held his jaw. "At least we know who has been trying to buy your affection with his little gifts now."

Realisation struck her like a bludger. "Oh goodness," she said. "Do you think so?"

Ominis took her arm in his, a little possessively, and MC felt a little tingle of warmth spread through her. "Come, MC," he said, firmly. "I will escort you to lunch. You may even sit with me at the Slytherin table if you wish."

Her heart lifted. "I would love to."

....*....

Ominis was cold with fury now. That pesky Gryffindor chaser would not stop hounding MC. He was there, constantly, any excuse to speak to her. He knew he was sneaking little touches as well, Sebastian had told him so. Ominis was so twisted up with envy, he was especially snippy lately. He couldn't help it.

He was no star Chaser, he was not athletic in the slightest, he couldn't even see MC, he had to rely on how others spoke about her beauty. He knew looks weren't the end of it all, he knew how beautiful she was in other ways, his heart was consumed by it. But he did feel at a disadvantage.

He could not imagine that she would feel the same way for him as he did for her, despite all the loving gestures she bestowed upon him. He harboured a precious, secret hope that she must hold some kind of affection for him. But found it hard to believe that it would equal the exciting charm of a handsome Quidditch player. Especially one who was dead set on wooing her.

Ominis walked at her side, a little closer than usual, and he heard her exasperated sigh. He put his hand on her lower back. "What is it?"

He felt her lean closer to speak quietly. "That blasted Isaac," she muttered. Ominis couldn't help his smirk of pleasure at her choice of words. "He has been pestering me all morning, and I am getting rather tired to tell you the truth. How many times must I decline him before he takes the hint?"

"Would you like me to hex him, MC? It would be my pleasure," Ominis said. He had not meant the words to sound so dark, it was supposed to be a joke. But they had slid from his lips with a vicious undertone, cold and cruel. He heard her swift intake of breath and soothed her with a gentle stroke of his hand up her back. "Only joking, of course. But I could have a word, if it would make you feel better."

"Erm, thank you, Ominis," she said, hastily. "But, I can handle myself. No need to worry."

....*....

MC wrote her study notes, neat and careful as always, and kept stealing little glances towards Ominis. She had been fidgeting and musing over his offer to hex Isaac on her behalf. He had sounded utterly terrifying if she was honest, his cold cruelty a trait of his blood no doubt, and yet, she had been fighting against an inferno of discomfort in her nether regions ever since.

Who knew? Having a man behave in such a possessive and protective way toward her had her rather flustered. Perhaps because it was Ominis. She would be a liar if she said she didn't find him attractive. Now she was wondering if he felt the same way. Intriguing to say the least.

She glanced around the library, a little hot under the collar. It was the most inappropriate place to be harbouring such blazing ideas about her Slytherin friend.

Then Isaac appeared, strutting down the aisles, adoring faces worshipping him as he passed tables of various year groups studying. MC felt her desires disappear under a bucket of icy dread as his gaze spotted her. He made his way over.

"MC, how lovely to see you," he said. He saw Ominis and frowned and gave him a cool, curt greeting. MC felt her hackles rise. Isaac leant on the table, bestowing his most charming smile her way. "I'm glad I ran into you, I was hoping that perhaps you would like to meet up later? Maybe we could head down to the Quidditch pitch and you can show me some of your moves?"

He had implied her flying skills perhaps, but the look in his eyes was far more suggestive than a quick zoom around on a broom. His eyes dropped to her lips, his gaze sultry, before lifting to meet her eyes again. Oh, she could see how girls had fallen prey to his charm. He was very good.

She felt Ominis stiffen beside her, and a little sliver of fear tickled down her spine. Would he hex Isaac, right here, in the library? She did not want him to get into trouble on her account. Also, she had been perfectly correct in her statement of her own abilities. She could handle herself.

She fixed Isaac with a stern look. "No thank you, Isaac," she said coldly. "I do not wish to 'show you my moves'. From what I understand, you have had far too many girls showing you moves under the Quidditch stands, and I am not another notch for your overly rated broomstick! Now, please, I am trying to study, if you wouldn't mind."

Now, libraries are usually quiet, but now you could have heard a pin drop. Her voice had carried across the room, students pausing to listen to her little rant. MC suddenly realised this and almost shrank in her seat, but forced herself to keep her back straight, and her face stern.

Isaac looked rather taken aback, but he recovered quickly. If anything, his smile was more charming than ever. His eyes blazed. "My, my, MC, you are quite the fire cracker," he grinned. "Forgive me, I will leave you to your studies."

As he walked away MC felt Ominis lean against her to speak quietly into her ear. "Do you think he got the hint this time?"

MC shook her head. "No, Ominis," she said with a sigh. "If you could have seen the look on his face...dammit, I think I just made him all the more determined."

....*....

Ominis was making it a point to be wherever MC was at every given opportunity. Sebastian was more than happy to assist, and even started to warn MC when Isaac was on the prowl.

All of this had got Ominis rather worked up, his adoration of MC had reached new levels, and he was on the brink of plucking up the courage to do something about it. He just needed to find the right time.

As it happened, the right time was thrown at him, completely unplanned and very high risk.

He was with MC, chatting quite happily out in the grounds. It was a lovely day, and Sebastian had joined them.

"Oh no, look out," Sebastian murmured. "One Isaac Cooper heading right this way. He looks rather determined. He's got balls coming over with us two here with you MC, I will give him that."

MC clicked her tongue and sighed. "Oh, for Merlin's sake."

Ominis really was absolutely done with this whole thing. Going purely on instinct, he reached out a hand and found MC's arm, he heard her little gasp as he quickly brushed upwards to her shoulder.

"Ominis..." She gasped.

His hand slid to her neck to cup her face and he went for it. He guided her forward and planted a kiss right where he hoped her mouth would be. He missed, sadly. Catching her lips at the corner, his nose brushing up against her soft cheek.

He heard Sebastian's delighted burst of laughter, MC was breathing so fast, her hands fluttering near his face, and he hoped he hadn't made a first class fool of himself. But then her gentle hands took hold of his face, and she adjusted her mouth to seal her lips firmly over his, returning his kiss.

So, this is what heaven must feel like, he mused.

When their lips parted, he could feel the heat in his cheeks, and she brushed her fingers lightly over them. "Well, that was a lovely surprise," she said, softly.

"More like about bloody time," Sebastian quipped.

"What about Isaac, has he buggered off yet?" Ominis asked.

"Oh, he is definitely not coming over here now," Sebastian said.

"Is that why you kissed me?" MC asked. She sounded disappointed. "You just wanted to scare Issac off?"

Ominis flushed a brilliant red. "Well, yes...and no," he said. He scowled, his jealousy getting the better of him. "The thought of that womanising leech laying a finger on you makes me want to do very bad things, MC. Forgive me, but I could not abide one more moment of it. The only man who gets to lay his fingers on you, is me."

And with that, he reached to find her hand. She took it, linking her fingers with his.

"Well, alright then," she said. He could hear the smile in her voice. Then her warmth was close, very close, and he shivered as her mouth breathed softly against his ear. "But only if you promise me more of those kisses."

His smile was very smug and he didn't care. He had what he wanted. "Now that, I am more than happy to do."

#hogwarts legacy fanfic #ominis gaunt #ominis gaunt x mc #ominis gaunt x f!mc #blueraineshadows #askblueraine #blueraine requests

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scarletwinterxx · 2 years ago

Text

i don't know how to make eggs - mark lee scenario

I just had to😂 GO STREAM GOLDEN HOUR! it's sooooo good😭😭anyways, so this one is a prolouge of the 'mark lee dad au' you can read it here:

part1: day with dad mark lee

part2: another day with dad mark lee

part3: a day with the lee's

part4: (prologue) i don't know how to make eggs

part5: glitter pens and goodnight kisses with the Lee's

part6: first love and kisses

part7: naps and baby kicks

part8: then there was three

part9: just like you

if you have a request or scenario you want me to do, just send me a message I'll see what I can do😊💌

For my other works you can check them out here, and for my other story series’ you can check them out here.

All works are copyrighted ©scarletwinterxx 2023 . Do not repost, re-write without the permission of author.

(gif not mine, credits to rightful owner)

"Mark, babe what are you doing?"

You just woke up again after having rough morning, the morning sickness has been kicking your ass for weeks. Most of your AM has been spent with you feeling so sick, not really able to keep everything except for one thing.

"Making eggs, you can eat that right?" Mark looks over at you, taking in your appearance. In his eyes, you're so beautiful right now wearing his shirt, your pregnant tummy showing.

You see him standing by the stove with a spatula in one hand. Oh your poor adorable husband. Standing in the middle of the kitchen looking like a lost kitten.

"You don't know how to cook eggs" you told him, walking over to him to hug him. Immediately Mark returns the hug, he feels your growing belly against him making him grin. In just a few months, it will be the three of you.

"No but it's the least I could do for you"

"You do enough"

"Nonsense. This is nothing compared to you carrying our child, you're literally growing a human" he exclaims, feeling you chuckle before stepping out of his embrace. Kissing him on the cheek before taking the spatula from him.

"Yes, and your little human here only likes eggs. Unlucky for him, his dad doesn't know how to make one" you tease your husband, earning an eyeroll from him

"I'm trying! see I only broke like two"

"Good job" you indulge him, taking few more eggs from the tray to cook for the two of you.

"I'm a big boy, I can cook"

"You can cook as good as I can ride a bike" you tell him, putting oil on the pan he was using. You can feel Mark from behind you, "You don't know how to ride a bike, baby"

"Exactly"

"You're mean, you've never been mean to me. This isn't you, this is pregnancy talking" he says, hugging you from behind and resting his chin on your shoulder. You just laugh at his statement.

Mark has always been an attentive partner, it's like he has a 6th sense dedicated only to you. He knows if you need something without even saying it, sometimes he knows it before you do. But after finding out you're pregnant with your first child, his son, he's been extra protective of you.

"And who's fault is it hm?"

"Baby, don't act like I'm the only one at fault here"

"Sure sure" you tease him, he stays there hugging you from behind while you cook eggs. "Okay big boy, think you can handle putting the bread in the toaster?"

He chuckles, letting go of you before getting the bread to do as you said.

"Then set up the table, please. Thank you, love you"

"You're really not letting me cook for you?" You can hear the pout in his voice, just in time you finish cooking. You put it on the plate before facing him, passing it over to him.

"I can do it, don't worry too much. I can still do things you know"

"I know, but still" he says

"Mark baby, trust me you'll be the first one to know if I need help okay? For now, stay out of my kitchen. Nothing good comes out when you go there" you tease him

"The last time we were there, we ended up with kid on the way so I wouldn't say nothing good comes out of it" he counters, a cheeky smile on his face

"Lee Minhyung!" you scold him, hitting him on the shoulder. Mark just laughs as he put food on your plate before his.

"I'll shut up now, now be a good girl and eat. You gotta stay healthy, baby boy's gonna get hungry then you're gonna get hangry"

"I don't get hangry" you tell him defensively, but he might be on the right this time. He raises a brow at you, "You were mad at me yesterday because I ate the last mozzarella stick"

"I was saving it! I was waiting for it the whole day then you ate it, you didn't have to remind me now I want more" you pout, Mark leans close to you. Cupping your cheeks before giving a short but sweet kiss,

"We can get more later, whatever you want name it. I'll get it"

"Be careful with your words, Lee. Your son is craving all sorts of weird foods, you're about to drive miles for it"

"You or him? okay okay him"

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whatthebodygraspsnot · 7 months ago

Note

Hi Ray!

If you are inspired: part 3 no.15 or part 5 no.12 💖

“Who would have thought that this is something that you’re into?” additional tags: light pet play, experimental puppy play, very light exhibitionism, idk if i like this yet - i'm just dipping my toes in for now - trying something new

It's the perfect early-summer afternoon.

Mickey's spent a lot of time in their backyard, but recently, this is the way he's come to ask for it - stretched out on his back, the grass soft beneath his bare skin and the breeze cool as it wafts over him.

He's perfectly content here, despite being naked down to his briefs. Because of it, maybe. It's freeing. In a way that might visually counteract the rest of his setup, but he loves this shit too. The thick black collar wrapped around his neck... The chain that threads through the ring and keeps him loosely tied to the metal stake in the ground, the lead gone slack in the grass...

It's the perfect early-summer afternoon, and Mickey is leashed up in their backyard, the sun pouring so beautifully over his exposed belly that he has to let out a content little sigh, stretching his arms over his head.

Their fence is tall - the slats overlapping - so if anyone wanted to peek over, they'd have to work for it. But they could do it. If they wanted to. They could stand on their tip toes and see Mickey chained up and sleeping and the thought of it alone has something nasty and pleasurable stirring in his gut as he lies here.

Because would that be so bad?

Mickey daydreams about it, feeling the sun warm his skin. And he's just under that first layer of groggy sleep when he hears the back door sliding shut, the footsteps that approach him setting off a flutter of lazy excitement in his chest for what happens next.

"Hey you..." Ian's voice is so easy. So fond, like the big hand that reaches out and starts to rub over Mickey's bare stomach. "You bein' a good boy out here?"

Mickey stretches a little, enjoying the heat that spreads inside him from the attention.

When he opens his eyes, it's with a pleasant little smile that matches Ian's, who is crouching to the ground to rub soothing circles on his stomach. Fuck, it's nice... So calming... Mickey hums in answer, because that's all he's expected to do. No words. None needed.

And he's not sure he has the words for this feeling anyway. Because when Ian leans in to plant a kiss on his forehead and then murmurs it, very kindly, "Sit up for me...?" the desire to please him is like Mickey's never felt before.

Not like this. Not to this degree.

When he pulls himself up to sit, it's a pleasant stretch, his eyes closing again as he feels Ian carefully pick pieces of grass from his hair. "Not much of a watch dog if you're out here belly-up..." he teases, brushing some off his bare shoulder now. "Thought you were s'posed to be guardin' the place."

Mickey's lashes flutter open. Searching. Carefully trying to piece together the seriousness in that. If he let him down or not.

But before he can worry about it too much, Ian's throwing him a lopsided smile, "That's alright..." his hand coming up to playfully mess in Mickey's hair, thank god. "Too nice out not to nap, huh..."

Now that he's certain he hasn't disappointed, Mickey smiles softly again, nodding in agreement. It really is too nice of a day to not take advantage of it.

And Ian seems to be on the same page. Because he lists forward to plant a quick kiss to the tip of Mickey's nose, "That's my good boy," and then he's unhooking the chain from Mickey's collar. "C'mon."

And god, Mickey's heart soars. He knows it's crazy, but the praise just fucking does something for him. No matter how hard they're going with this for the day - how immersed Mickey says he wants to be. All Ian's gotta do is say those two words and Mickey's fucking melting.

Because that's all it comes down to, isn't it? That's the one thing that's always been true.

Mickey loves to be Ian's. In any way he can get.

And there's nothing that really nails that shit home quite like Ian putting a collar around his neck - Ian holding the lead end of his leash - Ian telling him that he's his and he loves him and he's being good.

It may have spiralled a little, but Mickey's always loved being owned by him. Kept by him. And if he's gonna spend years hearing people call him Ian's guard dog - his pitbull - he might as well prove it.

Which means he follows after him when Ian relaxes back on one of the chaise lounge patio chairs, eager to fill the space beside him.

And again, all it would take is a little peak - a little tip-toe - and anyone at all could see how Mickey lays his head on Ian's stomach, staring up at him patiently until he can get that coveted attention back on him.

Good. Because then they'll see how much Ian loves him. How generous he is when Mickey nudges at his resting hand until Ian gets with the program and uses it to pet over the top of his head.

They probably wouldn't get it, actually. They wouldn't understand how good it feels, Ian's fingers threading through his hair and then coming to scratch behind his ear. They wouldn't get the swoop of fulfillment and desire that rushes in Mickey's belly when Ian looks at him like this.

“Who woulda thought this is something you’re into?” he murmurs pleasantly - a moment of fond introspection.

But Mickey's known this about himself always.

Loyalty.

That's all it is, really, his eyes closing as he rests his head in Ian's lap, once again drifting to the feeling of those hands petting him back to sleep.

[ send me a smutty one-liner ]

#gallavich #ray writes #smutty one-liners #do we like this... idk if i like this... im learning things about myself and unfortunately making it all your problem as well #hey calli lmao

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erina-leah · 2 years ago

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Zoro x Reader: Bent, not Broken

AN: this fic was requested by @sanjibby ! I appreciate the request and hope you enjoy! Nothing like a good angst with some even better comfort 💚

CW: angst, breakup, argument, swearing, GN!reader

After nearly getting their asses handed to them by the marines, the Straw Hats were currently in a recovery period. It was always quiet during these post-battle days, too quiet for a ship like the Thousand Sunny. The ship was almost somber in its stillness and silence, and it always made you rather depressed.

Today was no exception. In fact, your sour mood was far worse than usual recovery periods. This time, your boyfriend was terribly injured, and it was your fault.

Zoro wasn’t the most loving boyfriend, and it didn’t take being a couples counselor to know. It wasn’t that he didn’t love you, he said himself that he cared about you more than anything. He just wasn’t the best as showing it in conventional ways. His way of saying “I love you” was inviting you to nap with him, keeping you company when you had night watch, and doing his best to protect you in battle.

It was the latter that caused problems, though. You may not have been the strongest member of the crew, but you didn’t consider yourself the weakest. It always bothered you how Zoro treated you like a fragile little thing during battle, but you knew it was his way of caring for you. Today was the last straw for you, though.

An enemy was about to deal you a fatal blow, and your knight in shining green armor took the hit instead. The problem was that it was a data blow you were more than ready to dodge. And yet you wonder boy threw himself in front of you anyway, leaving him bedridden for days with a large gash in his chest.

After the initial worry wore off, you were livid, and if you hadn’t been avoiding him like the plague, you would have given him a piece of your mind.

He had just been released by Chopper today, and he had spent the last couple of hours filling up on the food and sake he had missed. Noticing that you rarely visited him while he was in the med bay, he invited you to join him for a meal so you two could talk. You declined, using the excuse of being full already, and sat alone in the Crow’s Nest.

And that’s where you had been all day, just thinking. Your anger wasn’t overbearing, but it weighed on your mind. The fact that Zoro felt the need to jump in like that mid-battle, treating you like a child, didn’t sit well with you. You were tired of feeling like a burden towards the swordsman, that idea had been weighing on you for months by now. After the hours you spent thinking on all of this, you figured that something had to be done about it.

You heard the familiar creak of the hatch of the Crow’s Nest being opened, and you didn’t move from your position on your back in the middle of the floor.

Neither you nor Zoro said a word as the swordsman sat next to you and gazed down at your face. A worried expression was painted on his face. You weren’t surprised, hey may have been a little dense sometimes but he was able to tell that something was wrong.

“What’s your damage?”

You swallowed the lump in your throat. “We need to talk,” you said, a crack in your voice revealing the tears that were yet to be shed.

Now he was really worried. He shifted to sit in front of you as opposed to the side as you sat up to look him in the face. Taking a deep breath, you began. “Why did you do it?”

“Do what?” Zoro asked. “Save you? Because you—“

“No. You didn’t ‘save’ me. You got in the way. Why did you do that?!”

“Get in the way?” His eyebrows furrowed. “Is that how you see it? The hell are you talking about?”

You huffed in frustration. “How many times have I told you I can handle myself? That was a blow I could easily dodge, all you did was get hurt! What were you trying to prove? That I’m just helpless? Or that you’re an idiot?”

“The fuck are you calling me an idiot for?” Zoro shouted, his worry now completely replaced by anger. “I just did what my instincts told me, so what if you could have dodged?”

Hot, angry tears began to prick at your eyes, but you simply ignored them as you shouted in retaliation. “Why do your instincts think I’m weak, Zoro? Is that what you think of me? I’m not a fucking child!”

“Can I not protect what I care about without you bitching about it, then? Because that’s all I wanted to do, and you’re throwing a fit over it!”

“I’m just asking you to stop treating me like a burden! I’m fucking done.” Getting to your feet, you turn your back on him. “If no longer being something you care about is what it will take for you to stop these stupid stunts, then that’s fine by me!”

“Hey, what are you saying?!” Zoro’s tone softened a little as he jumped to his feet and moved to place a hand on your shoulder.

“It means we’re done!” you growled as you shoved him away. “You and me. We’re done. We need to break up.”

The swordsman shook his head, “No the fuck we’re not.”

“You can’t just say no, Zoro. I’m breaking up with you. I’m not gonna sit here and watch you get yourself killed because you wanna protect me. What about your goals? How are you gonna be the Greatest Swordsman if you’re dead? I care about you too damn much to let you throw that away!”

“I’m not gonna die just because I choose to save you a few times! Your my partner, why should I let you get hurt?”

“I can face the consequences of my battles just like you do, Roronoa Zoro! You just can’t accept it! And you aren’t immortal just because you have a high fucking pain tolerance! I’m not saying it again, we’re done!” You tried to walk out of the room as you wiped the tears that were now on your face. However, you didn’t get far before Zoro grabbed you by your shoulders and spun you around to face him.

“Don’t you dare walk out on me! We’re not done here!” When you looked into his eyes, you were surprised to see he shed tears of his own. He so rarely cried, just how much did you hurt him?

“How can you say you care about me and then just try to end things?” he ask with a shaking voice. “I… I think I understand what you’re trying to say, but why the hell do we need to break up over this? After everything we’ve been through, do you really want to walk away? Tell me right now, what do you want?”

You hesitated to answer for a moment as you stood still in his gentle yet firm grip on your shoulders. What did you want? That wasn’t even a question. You knew exactly what you wanted.

“I just… want us to both be okay. I don’t want to see you die, I don’t want to see you hurt. I want you to trust me like I trust you. I’ll do anything…”

“Even break up? Tch, you can be such an idiot.” You didn’t even try to argue with the insult as Zoro pulled you close to him, locking you in his warm embrace. The comfort of being in his arms again completely broke you down, and you fell into a fit of sniffles and shakes.

Zoro spoke as he stroked your hair, “I want all of those things too. We can work it out, I know we can. Let’s not jump to anything rash from now on, okay? Let’s just… talk. I hate talking sometimes, but I’ll talk to you about anything, alright?”

Feeling you nod against his chest, Zoro placed a gentle kiss on your head. “Good. Now isn’t this better then a breakup?”

“S-shuddup..”

#finished this WAY faster than I thought I would ngl #I figured I may as well post it since it’s done #but I’ll probably take a day or two in the future 💀#Zoro #zoro one piece #roronoa zoro #Zoro x reader #one piece #one piece x reader #anime #manga #angst

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cabinofimagines · 1 year ago

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So it begins (Halloweek 2023)

A/N: I'll be expecting lots of comments and likes on this or we won't post the rest you've been warned -Danny Words: 1,167 Warnings: This ofc follows our Halloweek timeline therefore everyone is of age but it's all platonic dw

next >

Apollo is worried.

Meg asked him to deliver the invites for this year's Halloween party to all of their friends, and he thought it would take two, maybe five seconds to visit everyone. He was wrong.

Now that he's a god again, he's able to visit everyone at the same time, but since we don't have the power to read all of the interactions at once, let's start with the ones at Camp Jupiter.

Apollo—dressed as Lester—knocked on Hazel's front door and waited. Now, time's a bit funky when you're a god, so he could be wrong, but he kind of felt like it took way too long for Hazel to show up and open up.

When she did, she looked like she'd spent the whole month hybernating.

"Lester," her expression changed right away, and she tried to reach for her sword except she didn't have it at the moment. "What is it? What happened?"

"Greetings, Praetor!" Lester smiled, handing her a bright orange envelope. "You are cordially invited to Meg's Halloween party! Costumes required, drinks are optional."

Hazel blinked, her mouth forming a silent "O" when he explained the reason of his visit.

"Anyway, the invite's for you and Frank, obviously, we're not wasting paper if you guys are coming together anyway," Lester paused and studied her looks. "You okay?"

"Y-Yeah!" She fixed her posture. "Sorry, I was taking a nap so..."

"Got it, got it," Lester grinned. "Well, see you at the party!"

Hazel tried not to look as freaked out as she felt, she nodded and smiled. "Sure! See ya!"

Next up was Jason. He opened right away, but he looked just as tired as Hazel. When he saw Lester at the doorway he frowned.

"This is the worst kind of deja vu," he muttered.

"Good to see you too!" Lester replied happily, though he was starting to sense that something wasn't quite right with his friends. He handed Jason the envelope. "Party at Meg's, costumes, food, you know the drill."

Jason took the invitation and stared at it for a little too long, Lester cleared his throat to get his attention.

"Have we misspelled Jason, or...?"

The boy shook his head and tried for a smile, but he was a terrible liar. "No it's fine, I was er... just thinking about some stuff I gotta do before I leave for the party."

"Busy man, aren't you, little brother?" Lester patted his shoulder proudly.

"Please don't ever call me that."

"I'll think about it," He winked at him.

Since Grover offered to take the invite to Percy and Annabeth the last time he'd visited Meg, Lester's next visit was to Piper.

This time he made sure not to show up at an inconvenient time, which meant he showed up when she was just coming back from her last class of the day.

Piper was so done with everything that she didn't even panic when she spotted Lester on her bed. She nudge him to the side and fell face-first on the mattress.

"What?" She asked against her pillow.

Lester looked at her with worry. "Am I missing something? All of you look really tired, is there a new war going on?"

"Yeah, it's called midterms," Piper groaned. "Why are you visiting us?"

Lester placed her invitation on the pillow. "Halloween is this weekend."

The girl lifted herself up abruptly and seized the envelope. "Crap," she stated.

Lester started to feel anxious. Had everyone forgotten? They weren't thinking about ditching Meg's party, right? That would suck.

"I take that none of you remembered?"

Piper's face was easy to read. "No, no! Don't worry, I'll be there."

Lester didn't want to pressure anyone, but he also didn't want Meg to get hurt. "Well, if you need any help you can call anytime."

Piper smiled and placed the invitation on her nightstand. "Thanks, man."

"Yeah," he got up to leave. "Take your nap."

Leo was the only one so far that looked the same as always. He was fixing a bike on the rooftop of the waystation, and when Lester showed up, he seemed happy to see him.

"Hey, man!" The young man got up and grabbed a dirty cloth to sort of clean up before shaking Lester's hand. "What's up?"

"Halloween party at Meg's," Lester handed him his invite.

"Oh, right!" Leo seized the envelope and read it briefly. "Cool, yeah," he looked up and smiled. "You guys need help with the decorations or something?"

"Nah, the dryads and satyrs took over," Lester said.

Leo raised a brow. "Really? And they did a good job?"

"Hey, don't use that haughty tone, they are experts at parties!"

"Alright, fine!" Leo raised his hands in surrender. "Well, yeah I'll be there. You told everyone else yet?"

"Yeah, I'm on it," Lester tilted his head, paying attention to the other interactions. "They don't seem excited this year."

Leo grinned knowingly. Truth be told, he was freaking out a little as well, but he was good at hiding that sort of stuff. Time had gone by way too fast this year, he hadn't even realized it was October.

"We're all adults now, man, stuff get in the way, but we'll be there no matter what."

"Yeah," Lester sighed, humans had the bad habit of aging too quickly.

Nico and Y/N were a whole other story. They were together on the rec room, and when Lester showed up Nico welcomed him with a crooked smile.

"About time! We were starting to wonder if Meg had forgotten."

Lester pulled out the two orange invitations and smiled. "Never!"

"Nice!" Y/N examined the piece of paper with excitement. "Can't wait! It took Cal like a whole week to finish my costume, it's gonna be amazing."

"Meg said she was cool with me summoning a few ghosts to act as waiters for her party," Nico grinned, pushing the letter on his pocket. "It's going to be awesome."

"Are you taking the cocoa puffs with you?" Y/N asked with curiosity.

"Of course," Nico snorted. "Already have their costumes planned out."

"Aww, that's cute," Lester beamed. "I'm glad you two didn't forget, everyone else seems... sort of dead."

Y/N frowned. "What do you mean?"

Lester shrugged. "Doesn't look like they're feeling it this year, Piper mentioned some midterms, whatever that means..."

Nico and Y/N shared a look, but whatever they were thinking, they didn't mention it to Lester.

"You probably caught them in a bad moment," Nico brushed it off.

"Yeah, we'll be having our monthly meeting tomorrow, I'm sure everyone will want to talk about how excited they are about the party."

Lester cheered up at this. "Yeah, that's probably it! Well, see you guys this weekend!"

"Bye, Lester!"

"See you."

The god vanished and left the two demigods alone. Y/N looked at Nico and scowled.

"They definitely forgot."

"Definitely," Nico smirked and fell back on the couch, eating a fistful of popcorn. "Can't wait for tomorrow's meeting."

#halloween verse #halloween fic #pjo fanfic #heroes of olympus #toa #danny's writing

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beatsboy · 4 months ago

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7.28.24 / day 35 of romanticizing my life until i love myself again

it’s almost 2am, i woke up about an hour ago from a 5 hour “nap” after going to a queer day market to support my friend selling their art, and it was really cute and i was honestly super social as i have not had that much social interaction lately (getting used to living alone and having to actively go out and seek social interaction has changed my capacity when i do have it so much, like crazy not feeling drained every time i leave the house because i’ve already been like 5 people’s father/therapist/cleaner/etc before getting to the place i’m going to be supportive/present for someone else) but god damn it was so f u c k i n g hot and tbh i’m very proud of myself for making it as long as i did i only made it thanks to the ice cream vender who put my ice pack necklace (shoutout to my mom who has these for menopause and told me about them) in her cooler so it could get cold again and the lemonade vender who gave me a giant cup of ice to hold against various parts of my body to stay cool af and i got to talk about the music video, and future music videos, the more we talk about this stuff, the more motivated i feel to work on music i want to get to the part where i get to be the thing i’ve been building mostly in my brain for so long

originally, we were going for summer release, and then everything got all fucked up with my roommate situation and moving but i think it was meant to happen this way; this project is better suited for the fall, regardless, and clearly brat has taken over this summer in terms of music, on all levels, especially in the hyperpop scene there are still brat parties going on in la, smaller artists are still reaping the benefits of this album (though not getting much credit, as per usual) love seeing the dare dj a petal supply remix of a brat song and getting all the credit, it’s fine we can continue letting cis white dudes get the credit for queer artists, it’s fine i was literally at a brat market today, where everyone had brat merchandise it’s hard for any other music to break through the brat noise in pop/hyperpop right now, not to mention, boypop is kind of fucking freaky, so i do think sept/oct release would be good for the theme

i rewatch the assembly of the first minute or so of footage and literally cannot believe that that is me these are the movements i practice in the shower, in the corner, in my room, when no one’s looking, movements, expressions, i rarely actually see and the thing is, when i do see, i often shrink from them when i tried to practice performing like this in front of a mirror, i always lost it, the authenticity of it, the commitment, giving fully into the performance, the character, the self that’s the only way, in my opinion, to perform, because any level of restraint pulls you back to reality, that i am just a human, an insecure boy, going through puberty for the second time in his life of 27 years, afraid that he hasn’t done enough in his short time on this earth and wishes he’d taken a life-altering journey to a faraway planet where pop music was the harbinger of liberation instead of a stint in rehab and a coke addiction

anyway, market was fun, although so so hot, and after not going out all weekend, especially after thinking i was going to go to the rave on friday night and not, i really needed some socialization, with friends, and new people, and really needed some real time spent out of my apartment i got a really cute trucker hat that says “gay son” that i’m obsessed with and a really beautiful zine made by a trans guy about his gender journey (originally to raise money for his top surgery, which he had evidently already had, as he was standing there, fearlessly, with his shirt off) i honestly didn’t want to spend another $10 (i literally still have to make my rent in the next 3 days but telling myself i got this) but i think i just feel this intense awe when i see other trans guys post op shirtless, so free in a way i cannot imagine being so, naturally, i was blinded and overcome with this feeling, so i paid the $10 for the zine, and of course i do not regret it at all another vender had a kitten cafe with two 2 week old kittens inside (pictured) because they were too young to be left alone and while i was worried about them and the heat, they were quite cute

after being at the market for over 4 hours, af and i came back to my place, where i made us greek wraps with ground turkey and homemade tzatziki and cucumbers after we walked to h mart to get fresh tortillas i showed them the latest version of “boypop” which is so close i can taste the final mix (and am a bit mad i didn’t work on it today, but it’s fine, i was exhausted) they noticed the automation, the changes i’ve been making, i feel like i’ve actually been moving forward in my work this past week instead of just hyperfixating and going in circles, which is a danger i face in the finishing phase it’s hard to let go of a project, to let it be done i still listen to “king” and think of different harmonies i could record now with my current voice and i can sing whatever i want live, but the recording is done, the mix is done, there are no more changes to be made

i think, in the same way that i love people for their potential, and not always for who they are right now, i see a song as it’s potential, which is why i can imagine so much more than what is actually in front of me, and translate that symphony in my head into the daw, and i also why it’s so hard to let go, to stop, to step away from the infinity of changes and evolutions each project could still face sometimes it feels like i could just work on something forever and as i learn new things it will keep getting better and better, but at some point, i just have to let go

when i was a kid, my dad told me that an artist’s first album is always the best because it’s the cumulation of only their best works at the time, but then they just have to keep creating and they slowly get worse and worse i don’t know why i let this stick with me, more insidious influence from my father on a career i hadn’t even chosen when i knew him, it was just some dumb musing from a middle-aged man making himself feel smart by making a comment about maroon fucking 5

his birthday was 2 weeks ago i wonder if it makes him sad, on his birthday, at the age of 66, knowing he’s grown to be the kind of man who would offer back his relationship to his child, who has grown to hate him more than he hates himself, at a price, who has grown to be a man who can put a price tag on anything, even his love and support knowing he is one of the only people left in this planet, soon including even TSA agents and the DMV, to call me that name to wonder if i will ever come back, if i will ever call, if i will ever reach out, if i will ever show up and say i’m sorry dad you were right all along i got off the path and i sold my body and i want to go back to my normal life with a check for $5000, crying, and return to his control (i won’t) he tells my brother that it’s on me, ball’s in my court, if i want to come back that’s all i have to do, say sorry and pay the fine my terms have always been more simple, which i have communicated let’s talk, with a therapist present you two (parents) schedule (since they have crazy schedules) and i will be flexible (even though i too have crazy schedule) “he said he’s willing” my mother claimed, but it never came to fruition, of course not i blocked his number at first, i had to he wouldn’t stop calling, threatening me, telling me i’d made my mother sick with my behavior (becoming financially independent after realizing i was being financially/emotionally abused) i responded to his emails for a while, but they got worse, so i stopped then, his dad died, and i unblocked him just to call and give my condolences i left him unblocked after that. he could have called any time he wanted, but he didn’t i would know if he’d even tried

i wonder if my dad, too, ever sat alone in his first solo apartment journaling about his thoughts and reflecting on the ways his actions impacted other people mostly i hope not, because i don’t want to know if he did good things before he went bad, i want his fate to feel impossible for me to come to i already know that he read the tao te ching and the four agreements, things i’ve read as a young adult, that have brought me peace, that have taught me ways to move through the world, that don’t make sense when i think of him, and it makes me uneasy i don’t want to envision him being a morally good person and suddenly turning it makes me fear that i could still face the turn, when i want to believe that i have avoided it, that i am not capable of becoming a man like That

but, in truth, we are all capable of becoming like that, of selling out to some idea worse than what we believe in because it’s easy, because what we’re doing now is hard, because the rat race is tiring on the ground because our bodies are tired because maybe our fathers were right and the world’s a hard place and maybe i won’t because i know he wasn’t right, he never was, he was a professional bully who practiced on his wife and children but it is in every decision we make, daily, hourly, minute by minute, that determines who we are, and in ever decision, we can make the turn, we can cave and be cruel, we can give in and take the easy route, knowing that each of those decisions pulls us closer to That which we fear becoming the evil you fear lies as much in buying all your furniture on amazon as it does saying something cruel to someone who doesn’t deserve it just because you’ve had a stressful morning as much as the goodness you chase lives in being friendly to the coffee employee who’s taking forever on your drink when you’re late because it’s not their fault and their morning is just as important as yours as much as it lives in buying from local artists every decision determines how you move through the world, connecting each step and choice like a river, that is where you find where you’ll end up, which ocean you end up submerged in, which fish you will find yourself swimming into the dark night with and i crave free, calm waters for when i my end

#7.29.24 #day 35 #everything is romantic #deardiary #online diary #photo journal #online journal

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hypnoneghoul · 1 year ago

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Mushy May Day 31. Reuniting - Swissraindrop

WC: 525

Read under the cut or on AO3.

Rain was in agony.

What a sick idea it was to make him stay at the Abbey while his two mates left for a few acoustic shows with Aether and Copia?

He does have Mountain and the girls, all ready to smother him in affection, cuddles and kisses, but he wants, he needs, his mates. Swiss and Dew have each other on the road but Rain was left on his own.

He’s not angry, he’s just lonely and miserable.

It’s been four days since they left and he spent them curled up in their nest, sniffing aggressively at anything and everything that had his mates’ scents on it, surviving at mercy of Mountain and Cumulus who brought him food.

Rain wasn’t being dramatic (he was, but not that much), separating mated ghouls really made them physically unwell. That’s why it was a sick fucking idea to do so!

But it’s been four days, and it was already evening, which meant Rain had to wait only, and as much as, 13 hours to see his boys again. He decided to take Mountain’s offer to get high after dinner to pass said tortuous amount of time.

The earth ghoul put him to sleep back in his, Swiss’ and Dew’s nest, and Rain quietly hoped they would get here before he woke up.

His prayers were answered.

Rain was sleeping rather peacefully when he was jolted awake by a slam of the door and a small warm body pinning him to the mattress, “Oh, fuck, hi, baby.”

“Rainy,” Dew whined into his ear, “I missed you so much.”

“Me too, love,” he breathed, wrapping his arms around his mate tightly. “Where’s Swiss?”

“He’s coming, I ran.”

Approximately two seconds after, the door burst open again, their bed dipped and the multi ghoul gathered both Rain and Dew into his arms, pulling his tangled mates into his lap with no effort, “Hello, Raincloud.”

“Hi,” Rain squeaked, his mate’s scents making him dizzy and on the verge of tears that he could feel pooling in his eyes. “Never fucking again.”

“Nope,” Dew agreed from where his face was squished between Rain and Swiss, “I’ll bite.”

“You bit anyway,” Swiss laughed, and Rain looked at him with raised eyebrows, as the first tear ran down his cheek, “I’ll explain later.”

Dewdrop let out a halfhearted growl and nuzzled further into Rain, the water ghoul now crying in earnest, “I missed you so much.”

“We missed you too,” Swiss whispered, kissing Rain’s forehead. “He was unbearable, you know. I doubt Cardi will ever get the idea to separate us again, after his bullshit.”

Rain chuckled wetly at that, lifting his head to take a good look at Swiss and was met, of course, with his signature stupid toothy grin. He reached his hand to scratch at Swiss’ stubble, making him let out a content purr, triggering Dew with his own jet-engine like. The little fire ghoul was gone already, high on his mates. Swiss scooted up to rest against the headboard, holding his mates close to him.

“Quick nap,” he announced, “Gotta fuck you both later.”

Rain couldn’t even disagree.

#hypnone writes #the band ghost #dewdrop ghoul #nameless ghouls #mushy may #fanfiction #fluff #rain ghoul #swiss ghoul #swissraindrop

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house-of-galathynius · 2 years ago

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The Long Road Home

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Eleven - Chapter Thirteen

Word Count: 4.7k

This has been a long time coming and I’m so sorry for the delay in posting! I hope everyone had a lovely Christmas and New Year (if you do celebrate), I am looking forward to another year with all you lovely people ❤️

Lyon, France. March 1859: Seventy-Eight Years Later

The trees had finally begun to show signs of new life. It had been another long and tortuous winter for Aelin, never being able to stop in one place for long. Always moving along, her life constantly disturbed. She could blame it on no-one but herself— she could have remained in Denmark, or Austria, or even Germany. But she always felt the unrest, the uncertainty. She was looking for him in every place she went to, and when she could not find him, it was time to move on.

France was never her first choice, she had been there before and had not felt even a hint of him. But in the last few weeks she felt the universe pushing her here. It had been luck that everything had lined up perfectly and it was too much of a coincidence for her not to pursue another attempt at a life here.

She had been on the German-French border living up in the mountains, renting a small room on a farm. The couple who owned it were old and needed help so Aelin had offered her assistance for the room. She had spent her summers working in the garden, picking vegetables and fruits, in the autumn she found herself preparing the farm for the cold, bitter winters, then when spring would arrive she would help the new lambs be born and sow new seeds ready for the summer again. It had been a peaceful life. In her spare time she would go for swims in the crystal clear water of the nearby lake and lie in the long grasses with a book, watching the clouds glide above her. It was tranquil and she could have been happy there for a long time.

Things changed though when a merchant had come by to purchase some goods from them and as they had been packing up his purchases he had explained his plans for the rest of his journey and how he needed some company. He had expressed interest in Aelin, and she had been tempted. He was a kind man, with a gentle manner and a smile that would make any woman fall to her knees in love. She trusted him from only one conversation. So she had agreed to go with him to Lyon, where she would work for a bookshop he was opening. There was a small apartment above the shop where she could live for free. It had been years since she had moved on anyway. She knew the old couple had started to become suspicious of her lack of ageing and so it was time for her to depart— even though it pained her to say goodbye.

Lyon was beautiful too though. The cobbled streets and the grand buildings. The theatre that Aelin would surely spend a lot of her time at. The people who were still as friendly to her as when she’d been in the country all those years ago.

She also enjoyed speaking French again; and although her words may have been a little rusty, she found it easy to slip into everyday life there.

The sun shone there more often than not, and she was enamoured with the way it would bask her apartment in golden light, the way it would warm her softly and slow. On her days off she could follow it around her apartment, curled in various chairs as she would read, or sew, or just nap.

The bookshop below her was just as lovely. Tall light coloured shelves towered over her, reaching to the ceilings. Each shelf holding mountains of books from across the world: Dickens, Wordsworth, Tennyson, and all the other great authors of the time. At the front of the shop were huge glass windows that looked out onto the busy street. Aelin could people watch all day, always looking out for that one face she craved to see.

“Bonjour.” A woman said as she entered, a young boy in tow. Aelin replied politely and waited patiently as the woman and child look around, then left without buying anything.

It had been like this for a few days now. But after such a busy beginning of the year it was nice to have a slower pace. So she didn’t mind so much if people preferred just to browse.

When there was no one browsing, Aelin wandered around the shop, tucking books back into their places and wiping dust off the ones that had been there for a long time. She continued with her tidying sweep until she heard the familiar sound of the door opening and she poked her head around the shelves to offer her assistance.

For a moment she could not see anyone. But then a tall figure moved out from behind another aisle of books. She wiped the dust from the front of her skirt and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear as she then carefully set the books she was carrying down on a nearby stool and walked to where the customer was standing.

“Bonjour Monsieur.” Aelin said cheerfully. Her next words caught in her throat.

The male turned around to reveal the face she had dreamed of for so long. The white hair that was shorter than the last time she had seen him— in Amsterdam. The unmistakable green eyes.

It had been fifty years since the last time she had seen him. She was still unsure of how this was happening. Of why she was the way she was, why Rowan appeared and then disappeared. There was no pattern to it. Fifty years was a long time to wait, and she would admit that on a few occasions she had thought about giving up. But he was here.

Alive and smiling.

“I am just browsing.” He said in French.

Aelin nodded. Not sure that she would be able to find the words to say, or keep her voice steady. Though fifty years had passed, it was like it had been a mere day. She felt every ounce of love, every touch of their skin, the feel of his mouth. It was hard for her not to stare as he strode down each row of books, picking them up and inspecting them before returning them to the shelf.

She was constantly diving into the nearest aisle, trying her hardest to not let him see her following him around. But there was nothing she could do to help herself. She had been hoping for fifty years to see him again— and now here he was— there was no way she was going to let the opportunity to be near him slip through her fingers.

Moments later Rowan was striding towards the desk which she had hurriedly moved to, sitting on the stool pretending to be fascinated by the pile of books she had stacked in front of her. She feigned surprise when he came to a stop in front of her. She put on her friendliest smile, willing herself to not reveal her nervous manner.

“I am looking for a book for my mother. It is her birthday tomorrow and I wish to give her something special.” He said calmly. There was no recognition in his stare, nothing in his mannerisms that would suggest he knew Aelin. But she could not help but smile brightly at him, acting like he was in fact a close friend.

“Do you know what genre she is interested in?”

Rowan laughed quietly and shrugged. “My mother is not very forthcoming with information. But I imagine she would be happy with anything— perhaps a romantic novel?”

Aelin stood from the stool, “does she have any particular interests? If so I could try to find something to match them.”

Rowan thought for a moment, his tongue brushing over his lip as he did. “She enjoys riding, she is often at the theatre listening to the orchestra. Although I am not sure that is all that helpful for you.” He chuckled.

Aelin was struck silent. The sound of his laugh awakening something inside her. So she could only gesture for him to follow her as she led him to one of the shelves. “Here are some books on music, some might be overly technical…” she handed him a couple to look at, “but they are interesting if you love music.”

“What other options do you think I have?”

Aelin held a finger up and moved to another section and pulled off another few books. “These are a mixture of romantic and more adventure based novels. I’ve read them myself and can highly recommend them.”

Rowan balanced the books in his hands. “I can take them all.”

Surprise flashed across her face. It was rare that anyone would come in to buy so many books, and when they did it was usually to stock their own private libraries or for schools. However, she would not complain as she totalled up the cost and wrapped each book in cloth, tying it with string.

“Will you be able to carry these?” Aelin asked casually, helping to place the books into his hands once again. “I can help you if you need it.” If not just an excuse to be near him for longer.

Rowan shook his head. “The carriage is right outside. I appreciate your offer though.”

She wanted him to stay longer. But there was nothing she could think of that could delay his departure any longer, not as she opened the front door and loitered there as he packed the books away into a trunk on the back of the carriage, and then waved politely at her before climbing up into it, closing his door.

Aelin remained on the steps of the shop for a minute or two. Watching as his carriage rode away into the distance and then out of sight. It was still sinking in that he was here again. That she was not imagining him or dreaming him. He was alive and here. She wished she could talk to Elena— to ask her how to do this, ask her why this was happening and how long she would have Rowan for. Except Elena was gone and all Aelin had was a vague letter and her own wild ideas.

She thought about him for the next few days. Looking out for him on every corner and in every shop. She prayed to every God that he would return to her again. She started to dream of him too; every night she would dream of their time together in Brighton, of their sleepless nights of making love, their walks along the beach, their mornings by the fire reading or swapping stories of their childhoods. Then she would dream of their son. Of the life they should have had, and Aelin would wake with tears on her cheeks.

Nine days passed before she saw him again. She had been taking inventory and had barely heard him come up behind her, jumping out of her skin when he tapped her on the shoulder.

“I am sorry for startling you.” He said sheepishly.

“Oh! No, you’re fine.”

Rowan cleared his throat and smoothed down his coat, standing straighter. “I wanted to thank you for your help the other day. My mother was thrilled with the books.”

Aelin grinned. “I am so glad! It can be hard to find a good book these days.”

Rowan nodded in agreement, his shoulders relaxing. “She has finished three of them already and demanded I return at once to get more.”

“Well I am here to help you, should you need it.” She wanted him to need it. She needed any excuse to get him to stay here longer.

“Well that is actually why I came here… You were so wonderful last time, I just had to return and ask for your services again.” Rowan ran a hand through his hair, Aelin trying her hardest not to stare. “Of course, I will pay you extra for your time.”

Aelin shook her head, “there is no need to pay me more. I receive a sufficient salary.” And she had money from Arobynn that she had been squirrelling away for when she needed it, as well as money from previous work she had completed. But she needn’t tell Rowan that.

The two of them stood in the silence of the books before Aelin came to the startling realisation that she had not introduced herself to him. She didn’t even know if Rowan was his name this time.

“I’m Aelin,” she stretched out her hand and Rowan shook it firmly in his. And it was just the same as every time before. His hands soft but hard— firm from all the years of work she assumed he had done. But they still fit together just as perfectly.

“Henri.” He said.

She couldn’t lie, her heart sank a little at the name. Not that the name mattered— he was still everything she loved. Even now, after fifty years, she still felt that undeniable pressure in her chest, the beating of her heart as she beheld him.

“Aelin is not a French name.” Rowan, or rather Henri, said hesitantly.

“No. I was not born here.”

Henri’s eyes widened slightly and he looked pleasantly surprised. “You speak very good French. For someone who was not born here.”

Aelin shrugged and brushed the dust from her skirt. “I have had a long time to practice.”

“Have you been here long?”

“In Lyon?” She shook her head, “I arrived here a few months ago. I recently moved from the mountains on the border.”

Rowan… Henri, actually looked like he was genuinely interested in what she was saying. And she wondered whether he could feel it too— this pull. Like they were magnets, where he was she would follow. But then he stepped back from her; like he had been jolted awake from a dream.

“Do you have any other recommendations?” He changed the subject quickly.

Aelin didn’t show her disappointment, but quickly collected up some of her favourite books and stacked them on the front table before going to retrieve some more. Rowan (she could never seem to think of him as anything other than that name), happily perched on a nearby chair and surveyed her as she went back and forth between shelves. Eventually the stack was over ten books tall and she looked to Rowan sheepishly.

“I have a lot of recommendations…” She laughed. And she could have sworn there was a flash of surprise— or maybe it was delight— cross over his expression. It was gone in an instant though, his face back to normal.

“My father is never going to be able to pry my mother away from the library now.”

Aelin grinned. “Well, I can think of worse places for her to be.”

“Today was maybe not such a good day to have walked here.” He said, studying the mountain of books.

Aelin glanced outside and the sun was shining high in the sky, the wind gently rustling the leaves, the river glistening in the afternoon light. It was a beautiful day; and if she did not have to work she would have been outside lounging by the water with a good book too. There weren’t many people milling outside though, and she looked around her shop, noting the empty spaces where customers should have been and then to the clock on the desk— it was near enough late afternoon and she was certain there would be no other customers.

“I could help you carry them back if you would like,” she cleared her throat, “free of charge of course.”

Rowan chuckled and nodded. “The help would be wonderful.”

So they packed up the books together and Aelin hastily shut up the shop before skipping down the steps and coming to Rowan’s side.

“Do you live far?” She asked curiously.

“About ten minutes,” he looked straight ahead, then turned to her, “I am not in the habit of using my carriage for such short distances— but I was in a bit of a rush last time.”

“I wasn’t judging you for that.” She replied. She remembered when she had lived with her parents, or even with Arobynn. Their carriage usage had been high too.

They meandered through the streets, eventually coming to cross the bridge over the river. It had quickly become one of Aelin’s favourite places. She loved to watch the water flow through the city and under her, sometimes looking at the ducks that would lazily glide down it. On some occasions she had even watched as people swam down it too. Rowan was a few steps ahead of her when he stopped and turned to make sure she was still with him.

And it stopped her short. It was such a small act, but it had been something that Rowan had done multiple times when they had been together before. So though his name was different, even though they were in a different city, speaking a different language… he was still the same. The same Rowan she had fallen so deeply in love with.

“Everything okay?”

Aelin nodded quickly and sped up her pace to catch up with him. “Just distracted.”

For some reason Rowan had found their time together to be pleasant. He had called in on her almost everyday after they had delivered the books to his mother— who had been thrilled to meet her too, even offering for her to stay for supper.

Sometimes when he came to visit her he would arrive with freshly baked goods from the bakery down the road; sometimes he would come with a newspaper and he would just sit and read it, occasionally looking up to watch Aelin work. The two of them sharing a smile and then going back to whatever they were doing.

Aelin knew that it was dangerous doing this. Dangerous getting close to him, letting him come into her life and allow herself to fall in love with him even further. But she couldn’t help it. He was just the same as she remembered and her heart was leading her astray, ignoring her head that was blaring sirens and warning her that this could only end in disaster, just as it had before. But she had no proof, nothing to go on to know how this would end. Elena was long gone and had left Aelin with no explanation, no clues to what was happening.

So Aelin let herself fall for him again, and let Rowan fall for her too.

And it was magical and invigorating and lovely. She did not let herself think of the possibilities of their fates— not as she basked in this new lease of love that she had been granted.

“I think we should get married.” Rowan had said to her one day. They had been lying in the garden of his parents’ home, enjoying the July sun.

She turned to Rowan who was still watching the sky, his eyes focused on the birds soaring above. “You do?”

He turned to her then too, a small smile on his lips, his eyes bright. “When you find the person who you can bare your soul to, I find that you want to keep them for as long as possible.”

His words were sweeter than honey, more precious than rubies or diamonds. His love for her settling around her heart, encasing it forever.

“I know I cannot ask your father for approval like I should… but I would hope he would not mind me asking for your hand.” He sat up and rummaged in his pocket before revealing a little box, “this isn’t much, but I would like to give this to you to confirm my intentions to marry you.”

Aelin was almost crying. How many years had she dreamed of being able to live this life with him? How many years had she cried over what they lost? She looked at the little band of gold the circular diamond nestled in the middle and wished she had the words to tell Rowan how right this was— how she wanted to scream to the world that she was getting her happily ever after.

But all she could manage was a nod. Her smile big enough that her cheeks began to ache.

“You will?” Rowan asked.

She nodded again, “yes.” Her voice barely a whisper as Rowan slid the ring onto her finger and kissed it softly.

“You can tell me no and that I am being insane… but how about next week?”

“Get married next week?” Aelin asked, still reeling from it all.

“I know it’s fast. But when you have chosen what you want in life… you want to start living it.” Rowan kissed her hand again and smiled warmly at her. “I love you, Aelin. I have been lost for so long. Never knowing what I wanted, not knowing who I wanted. But the moment I met you it was like everything fell into place. It is cliche, I know. But there is something about you… something so familiar. I cannot possibly let you go.”

She swallowed the lump in her throat. She could not find the words— she would never be able to tell him just how deep her love ran. How he is the origin of all her dreams. All she could do was lean over to him and capture his lips with her own in a scorching kiss.

They were in fact married one week later just like Rowan had suggested. It had been a small intimate ceremony, only Rowan’s family and a couple of his friends attending. Afterwards they had returned to his parents’ home and they had enjoyed a dinner with copious amounts of champagne and dancing and laughter. It was nothing like how it had been with Arobynn and she was happier than she had been in almost eighty years.

She did not think about the consequences of this. She did not think about the fact that she was not ageing and at some point she might have to explain to Rowan. All she cared about was being with him right now, letting him hold her close as they swayed to the music. His hand gripping her waist, his other holding her own hand tightly; her head resting on his chest— listening to the steady beat of his heart.

“I will never have the words to tell you how grateful I am that you said yes.” Rowan whispered into her hair. “I will love you until the end of time, Aelin. I promise you that.”

She glanced up at him. He was smiling gently, his eyes shining in the candlelight. He was the most beautiful thing she had ever beheld, and she would thank Elena, or whatever Gods had granted her this time with him. For however long they allow.

“Do you promise?” She managed to whisper back.

Rowan huffed a laugh. “I will find you in every life, in every world. I would go into hell itself to be with you. I cannot see how we are anything but inevitable.”

She buried her head into his shoulder and sniffed. These were the words that she had wanted to hear for so long, the words that were like music to her ears. And she would find him too— no matter where she roamed, no matter how many years had passed— she would find him.

“A toast to the happy couple! May their lives be happy and long.” Rowan’s father lifted his glass, and suddenly Aelin was holding her own flute of champagne and toasting along with their friends, smiling wide. “Welcome to the family, Aelin.”

There had been a day when Aelin had dared to hope a little more than before. A day where her and Rowan had been strolling along the river hand in hand, the autumn leaves falling around them. Rowan had been deep in thought before he turned to her with a curious expression.

“Do you ever get the feeling you’ve done something before?”

She furrowed her brows. “What do you mean?”

Rowan stopped them and leant on the stone wall. “I dreamt of you the other night. It was so vivid and felt so real.”

Aelin laughed nervously. “It’s not unusual for you to dream of your wife.”

Rowan shook his head, still serious. “We were in London. Which is strange because I’ve never been to London with you. But we were walking through a park and it was winter. You were storming ahead of me and I can’t remember what we were saying…” he trailed off, staring ahead.

Aelin was silent too. She didn’t dare hope, because hope led to disappointment— and she’d had plenty of that.

“It felt like a memory.” He finally said. “I must be going crazy. Obviously it was not a memory, I was probably just mixing books and dreams and real life.”

Aelin tried to laugh, it coming out as more of a choke. “Dreams can be funny like that.”

Rowan chuckled too, his face brighter. He took her hand again and continued on their walk. They were both silent though. Aelin unsure of what to say. Should she tell him it wasn’t a dream? That the vision he had had was a real life event, something the two of them had shared together almost one hundred years ago. She knew she would not tell him, but even so, she tried to take some comfort in knowing that maybe one day he would remember.

Lyon, France. August 1860

He didn’t remember.

And she shouldn’t have been surprised.

Not when throughout her life she had only been handed bad luck. The Gods simply not letting her be happy for any amount of time. And Aelin should have been used to it by now. After all, she had lost Rowan twice, and her son and had to live with everyone dying around her as she remained unchanging.

Although, she should correct that last statement. She had lost Rowan three times.

Her hands were clasped tightly around the handkerchief in her lap. The church bell chiming solemnly in the background as people shuffled from the church, murmuring their apologies as they passed her. She could barely hear them over the roaring in her head.

Her eyes were blurry from the tears, her gaze set straight ahead, staring at the white stone wall of the church. The air was cold even though it was the middle of August and the temperature was soaring, the sun burning hot. But she could feel nothing.

“Aelin,” a voice said behind her. “We should be leaving.”

She blinked and hastily wiped the teardrop from her cheek before turning to the voice. Rowan’s mother stood there in all black, her eyes puffy from crying and cheeks stained red. Aelin was not the only one mourning today.

“I’ll be out in a moment.” She replied.

Rowan’s mother nodded and traipsed outside alongside his father who had not publicly shed a tear— yet she had heard him quietly sobbing in his study only yesterday.

Aelin finally stood, smoothing out her own black dress and looked to the empty altar, where only a year earlier she had been stood with Rowan, saying vows, promising themselves to each other. And now she was standing there alone, Rowan gone. Taken from her like everything else had been.

She had cried for days after his death. The sadness consuming her wholly. But day by day that sadness shifted into anger.

Anger at fate, at the Gods, and with the world.

She hadn’t asked for this life. Aelin had not asked to be constantly searching for him— for a life with him. She did not ask to be stuck forever as the same person. But no matter how she begged it was never enough. No matter how much she prayed or cried to Elena, to any God who might listen, none did. She woke each morning feeling nothing, her body and mind and face the same as before.

Elena had told her that love would conquer all. She had told Aelin that as long as she had love in her heart she would weather any storm, survive any battle. But this was a battle Aelin didn’t know she wanted to win. She didn’t even know what she was fighting against.

Someone called her name from the back of the church and she wiped her face once more. Sending off one last prayer to anyone who might listen.

Her heart was empty once again.

Tag List:

@morganofthewildfire @tomtenadia @fredweasleyhasadhd @luckyrunawaycheesecake @live-the-fangirl-life @fireheart-violet @charlizeed @scarblx @xo-fangirl-xo @wordsafterhours @jesstargaryenqueen @sailorsassley @sjmships @endlessdaydream @aflickeringsoul @tillyrubes10 @rowaelin-cressworth @cookiemonsterwholovesbooks @rowaelinismyotp @rosegoldannie @maryberry @viajandosinalas @becarefuloflove @allthebooksunderthemoon @sheharahu @swankii-art-teacher @superspiritfestival @becarefuloflove @tanvee1231 @viajandosinalas @backtobl4ck @emily-gsh @whispers-in-the-darkest-heart @becarefuloflove @goddess-aelin @thegreyj @leiawritesstories @nerdperson524 @rowanaelinn

#the long road home #rowaelin #rowan #aelin #rowan whitethorn #aelin galathynius #aelin ashryver #aelin ashryver galathynius #rowan x aelin #aelin x rowan #tog au #tog fanfic #fanfic #the long road home fanfic #house of galathynius

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sarah-dipitous · 11 months ago

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Hellsite Nostalgia Tour 2023 Day 357

The Power of the Doctor

“The Power of the Doctor”

Plot Description: the Thirteenth Doctor must fight for her very existence against her deadliest enemies: the Daleks, the Cybermen, and her arch-nemesis, the Master

These cybermen aren’t nearly as cunty as the other ones the Master created but they have flair

Ok at least ONE of them is serving

No but seriously the detailed metalwork on these cybermen is so good. I highly suggest looking it up…they’re apparently going by cybermasters now. Did a 16 year old boy in 2007 come up with that?

You know, after the whole flux thing, I thought they had abandoned this

How was the cargo a CHILD???

I have been WAITING for this, the whole the Master made up Rasputin…but i apparently will have to wait a little longer as we return to, you guessed it, modern day London

I know this woman is a former companion, but I do not know who she is. Ok we have Ace and Tegan. I love that we have older women who were companions coming back for this. I wish I knew more about classic Who to know exactly what the deal was with the cybermen and Tegan. Obviously, no companion has a GOOD experience with them but was there something more??

Anyway she got sent the miniaturized one with the death thingy in it

Dan’s leaving NOW? Like 15 minutes into the episode?? What a weird time to leave

She does NOT want me to watch this episode. Apparently, I had all the time she spent napping on me to watch and now….I don’t even know

I’m not sad at Dan’s departure.

A Dalek wants to meet the Doctor? To destroy the Daleks?! I don’t believe it

There’s a defect on the plunger eye part that keeps getting attention drawn to it…that HAS to be something

I’m usually a proponent of the dark hair/blue eyes combo but omg take those contacts out RIGHT NOW

(I went to look up what Sacha Dhawan’s eyes normally look like and potentially got really spoiled for this episode…unless they’re using archived footage)

“I feel like I’m being taunted” was the HAHAHAHAs all over the sign on the front of this TARDIS not enough evidence of that?

I hope Tegan and Ace stick around UNIT. I think that would just be cool, as long as the actresses want to

Omg, the Master has inserted himself into some of the most famous paintings in the world. He does not rock Girl With a Pearl Earring like my Megumi does…NOR The Scream

STOP BEING ATTRACTED ALMOST EXCLUSIVELY TO FICTIONAL EVIL MEN, SARAH

But like………he’s adorable

I can’t tell if that’s a warning or a threat but…ok, he SAYS warning, but I’m not convinced it’s not him threatening to erase the Doctor from existence himself—and NOW he says it’s a threat! Those are different things

Oh shit, Vinder’s back?! Genuinely happy to see him return

The Master looks so respectable but he’s literally so awful and spiteful. Hold up, Ace just said last time she saw him, he was half cat?!?! I will need to look that up. Catboy!Master was not on my 2023 revelations bingo card

He’s WAY too excited to be here. And he ACTS half cat

Wtf wtf wtf wtf…how’d he do that?? It wasn’t JUST that cyberman, it was a whole Russian doll of cybermen

So, the defect on the traitorous Dalek was just that it was in disrepair. That Dalek was for real but it was a trap all the same…but I NEVER thought I’d see the Doctor trapped in a Dalek casing

On one hand, why was forced regeneration like the ultimate punishment for time lords? UNLESS you used them ALL up? But of COURSE he has the technology to do it, he had so much time on Gallifrey on his own

The Cybermen and Daleks are way too robotic for the Master’s penchant for performing. They’re blunt instruments and he likes to drag out whatever he’s doing to make it hurt the most…but he’ll also play some bops while carrying out his plans

Excuse me?? Ok so…how does this get undone? Man…you can’t just expect Yaz to “get used to” you being the Doctor, not when she was in love with 13. I knew you were a lot of things, the Master, but homophobic??? Ick

This forced regeneration isn’t taking well, oh the outfit slaps though. He’s taken a lot of the most eccentric bits of past Doctors’ outfits (4’s scarf, the question mark sweater vest, the celery lapel pin, it’s a thing of beauty)

They really do just an excellent job making David Bradley look like the First Doctor

Oh…NOT ARCHIVED FOOTAGE!! Colin Baker, Peter Davison, Sylvester McCoy, and Paul McGann came back to do this too!! That’s SO COOL

(I swear if my cat learns how to use a door knob while I’m watching Doctor Who…)

…MORE WOMEN IN THEIR SIXTIES AS ACTION HEROES NOW!!!

I don’t even know that much Classic Who but it’s very easy to get choked up from Tegan seeing Five again. But partly because did those actors think they’d ever be playing those roles again? After 40 years?? I don’t know how Tegan and Five ended but it doesn’t sound like they got to have closure til now

Now Ace and…Seven??

Graham!!! He’s not as good at coming up with fake names as the Winchesters. Though, to be fair, the fact that the Winchesters got away with as many classic rock last names from the same band at the same time…

Noooooo, don’t convert Kate into a cyberman!

No because the outfits in this episode are so great

Save her, Tegan!!

Oh poor Kate (she’s alive and well and not a cyberman, but that was an all new facility for UNIT)

It’s not often we get a full set of pilots for the TARDIS

So is this gonna be another spare TARDIS for the Doctor??

I…feel like turning active volcanoes into steel will eventually be an ecological disaster

I know this whole Yaz running out to the Doctor thing is supposed to be impactful, but honestly the Master (in a failing body) telling Thirteen if he can’t be the Doctor neither can she and then making it so she’s injured enough to kickstart regeneration is almost always going to be WAY worse. There’s just so much history between them

How on earth did Dan and Graham meet?? Graham just randomly runs onto—oh. Apparently there was some kind of invitation…oh, a support group for past companions! That’s actually really nice!

David!!

#hellsite nostalgia tour 2023

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thelightofthebane · 1 year ago

Text

through the good and bad and all in between

Summary: Magnus was born a warlock. Magnus became a mundane for love and by self-sacrificing tendencies. Magnus turned into a vampire after an act of spite and revenge.

A story about survival, new identities, love through adversities, and accepting changes.

Tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Episode: s03e17 Heavenly Fire, Vampire Magnus Bane, Turned without consent, Major Character Undeath, Immortal to Mortal to Immortal, Magnus Bane Deserves Nice Things, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Good Boyfriend Alec Lightwood, Soft Magnus Bane/Alec Lightwood, Cat & Alec friendship, Domestic Magnus Bane/Alec Lightwood, Fluff and Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending

Rating: E

Chapters: 10

Words: Around 23k~

This fic was created for the Shadowhunters Mini Bang 2023: Presented by the @malecdiscordserver

You can read it on AO3 or the eighth chapter below ~

Chapter 8 - You taught me to live each day like it's my last

“Are you really a vampire now?”

“I am.”

“And you only drink blood now?”

“I do.”

“And no magic? No more extra chocolate sprinkles?”

“No magic. But I can still give you extra chocolate sprinkles. In secret, or else Uncle Alec will punish us with a lot of tickles.”

Madzie giggled.

Children were so simple. In the best of ways. Although it hurt admitting some harsh truths out loud - like not being able to use magic anymore -, it was nice doing it only to fulfill an honest curiosity, full of wonder and awe.

Magnus wouldn’t lie and say he wasn’t nervous at finally meeting Madzie again, but he missed his goddaughter too much to keep pushing back a visit. Since the successful mission against Camille three weeks before, Magnus was making more visits to the New York Institute - and New York overall. He was slowly trying to get used to the city again with his new senses and also going to the Hotel DuMort to talk to the clan.

If he was also using the opportunity to keep an eye on his very, very stubborn fiancé who was still healing from the mission, well, nobody but him needed to know that.

“Are you okay with this new me, Sweet Pea?”

“I am.”

See? Simple.

“I like your fangs. They are cool. Much cooler than Uncle Simon’s.” Then, as if telling him a secret, she lowered her voice and came closer to him. “But don’t tell him that. Or he will have puppy ears.”

“Puppy ears?”

“It’s puppy eyes, kiddo.” Cat corrected her after snickering.

Madzie shrugged, then went back to play with her dolls in what seemed to be an imaginary tea party.

Magnus, who was drinking a special blend of blood tea, turned to Cat then.

“I know that I shouldn’t be surprised, but she took this change better than I anticipated.”

Catarina took a sip of her own actual tea, not bothering to hide a grin afterward.

"Your little brood of Shadowhunters plus Simon took it upon themselves to play with Madzie and distract her while her Uncle Magnus was away. But she spent more time with Simon. Alec’s idea. This way she could get more used to vampires and not feel uncomfortable when visiting your future clan."

Alexander…

“Anyway, vampire or not, that boy was a perfect babysitter. He talked so much, that even Madzie got tired. She never napped so quickly in all the time she has been with me.”

Usually, Magnus would make a teasing comment about that, but his mind was still processing what Cat told him about Alec’s idea.

"Cat, how the hell did someone like him choose me? If we weren’t already engaged, I’d barge into the Institute right now and ask him to marry me."

"Magnus Bane finally settling, huh? In all the centuries that I know you, you never mentioned wedding bells, not even with the demon."

Magnus chuckles. Everyone around him stopped saying her name - not out of fear, but because they believed it could erase her from their memories sooner than later.

"Alec makes me dream about things that I've given up a long time ago, Cat."

Marriage. Family. Children.

"I want everything with him."

“I’d say you’re already halfway there.” His friend wiggled her eyebrows, jutting her chin towards the ring he was wearing.

His real engagement ring. A couple of days after Alec was discharged from the infirmary, he received a message from the warlock jeweler to let him know that the enchanted pair of rings were finished. Even without his powers, Magnus could feel the magic pouring from them - it was very powerful.

He knew Alec had ordered them specifically for Magnus, to keep him safe, but Magnus was glad and relieved to know it went both ways - Alec would also have an extra layer of protection and he would know if the Shadowhunter was in true danger.

“Have you chosen a place to hold the wedding?”

“Not yet. Alexander and I are still discussing all the details. He said he wanted to get involved in the planning this time.” Magnus smiled, then chuckled. “But I called dibs on the decor. I love Alec, but his concept of color is black and different shades of gray.”

The warlock frowned. “I thought you would go with the traditional gold of a Nephilim wedding.”

“No. In another time, we would’ve gone with a mix of Nephilim gold and Warlock blue, but now…” Magnus sighed before putting his teacup away.

Suddenly, Madzie piped in.

“Are you and Uncle Alec marrying like those princes and princesses of fairy tales? Uncle Alec looks like a prince.”

Magnus laughed. “And you’re absolutely right, my love.” He picked her up, and she immediately snuggled with him.

“Auntie Izzy told me I could be a flower girl. Does this mean I’ll wear a dress full of flowers?”

“If you want to wear one, we can arrange that. But being a flower girl means you’ll create a path full of flowers for me and Alec. This way, our marriage will start more colorful, fragrant, and beautiful.”

“I like that.” Magnus could hear the smile on Madzie’s voice, and his heart couldn’t help but melt at that.

“Me too, Sweet Pea. Me too.”

~*~

“Alex reminds me of you,” Magnus commented, earning a deadpan look from Alec.

They were sprawled on the couch, Magnus bracketed by Alec’s legs, his head resting on the Shadowhunter’s chest - the sound of Alec’s beating heart still being Magnus’ biggest source of comfort.

Lately, this was how their date nights went by. A movie or a show, a nice meal, cuddling - or a delicious session of make out - until they fell asleep. It was a good way to keep the nightmares at bay, and gradually Magnus has been feeling more relaxed and settled again.

Unfortunately, they couldn’t share popcorn anymore - Magnus had his own snack soaked in blood.

“Because we both are called Alexander?” Alec drawled.

“That too, but you two are very good with politics, always trying to help others, born leaders, adorably oblivious when it comes to crushes, and have a dangerous public sex kink.”

“I don’t have a public sex kink!”

“Darling, Underhill has to deactivate the training room’s cameras every time we’re there.”

Alec grumbled under his breath, and Magnus snickered.

“Well, I’m sorry if it’s too hard to keep my hands off you, Your Royal Highness.”

This time, Magnus gasped.

Then, they both broke into a fit of giggles.

Alec let go of his popcorn in favor to hold Magnus closer and took the opportunity to nuzzle against the side of the vampire’s head. Magnus closed his eyes for a moment, sinking into that warm feeling so uniquely Alec, and only after a couple of minutes he went back to pay attention to the movie.

It was only when they were in the middle of the second movie, some underrated rom-com, that Magnus noticed how Alec was distracted.

“What are you thinking about?”

“Lydia.”

“Ah, I see. You’re thinking about your ex-fiancée while I’m right here with you.” Magnus teased.

Alec rolled his eyes. “It’s not that. It’s just…” He waved a bit upset to the TV. “I can understand that guy being afraid of coming out, but does he need to treat the guy he loves like that? Like a dirty secret?”

“Sometimes you don’t have a choice if you want to be with the one you love the most,” Magnus whispers, and there is an underlining of a past experience there.

Alec sighed. “As much as I hate how I treated you in the past when we first met, I think it was better than treating you as someone who should be hidden. No one should, but especially not you, Magnus. You are too big to conceal. If someone did that, they were a major asshole and didn’t deserve you. People should be proud to show you off, not hide you.”

Magnus looked surprised at Alec who was still fuming and cursing the main character of the movie.

“Even when I lost everything and was a mere mundane, you never minded, did you?”

“Of course not. I love you. All of you. And I accept any version you choose to be.”

“And if I became like one of those villains from superhero movies?”

Alec shrugged. “Some villains are hot.”

Magnus fully grinned by then.

“You’re ridiculous.”

“Maybe I am. But that’s okay. I got you.”

I will always get you.

They stayed in silence for some more time, until Magnus broke it.

“Alexander?”

“Hmm?”

“I’m ready to move back to New York.”

#shmb2023 #shadowhunters #malec #magnus bane #alec lightwood #my writing #colorfulwarlock

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graftisms · 2 years ago

Text

CALLIE & ANGEL — DAY THIRTY-FOUR

location : afternoon / beanbag chairs

featuring : @dobits

ANGEL

sprawled out on the green golf grass, angel's busying himself tying his hair to the crown of his head, finds it easier to think when he isn't being suffocated by all his inches. "maybe bear," he suggests. it's supposed to be a hypothetical name for the dog he'll potentially get once he's out of here. angel's roped callie into brainstorming with him. "or, y'know, i always liked those super random names for pets. like, bones. or cowboy, how fucking cute would that be?"

CALLIE

"bear could only work if your dog is, like, massive. or a pipsqueak, for the irony." imagine a chihuahua named bear? talk about cute, and callie doesn't even like kick-me kinda dogs. "okay, cowboy would be cute," she laughs. "i still don't think you can just pick a name out without seeing the vibe of the dog, though. do you at least know if you want a boy or girl, or is it just whatever deaf one you can find first?" she nudges his leg with her foot.

ANGEL

"a pipsqueak," angel smacks his tongue to his teeth with affection. never considered himself a chihuahua person at all, but it sounds cute as fuck. "i could do that. one of those little bug-eyed dogs, not a thought in their head." adorable. he hums thoughtfully, blindly reaching out his hand for her. "whatever comes to me, for sure. what about presley?" he suggests, lifting his head up to shoot her a grin.

CALLIE

"aw, nooo," she laughs, cheeks nearly hurting from smiling at the thought, shaking her head. "you'd totally lose one of those dogs in your shop. he'd take a nap under a car, not be able to hear you when you call, and then you're like, 'where's bear?'" she won't add that it sounds like the perfect size to get accidentally run over, but that's what she's basically implying anyway. "you can't steal my dog's name! besides, isn't naming a deaf dog after a musician a little insensitive?" she asks, with a smirk to show that she's teasing. "what about priscilla?"

ANGEL

“nuh uh, i could totally slap an airtag on him,” angel hypothetically resolves. “or i could get one of those, like… baby sling things?” grinning, he nods slowly like it’s a genius idea. unrestrained laughter has his head thudding back flat against the ground. “it’s irony, babe! oh my god, priscilla.” hand over his heart, loves it. “you gotta come with me to pick her out. for real, or else i’m gonna leave with, like, three pits, five chihuahua’s and a terrier or two.”

CALLIE

"a what?" she wrinkles her nose. "like, strap your dog to your chest while you work? i feel like she'd get in the way." callie's already decided he's getting a girl. "babe," she repeats the word teasingly, trying out his american accent. not unlike every time he throws crikey back at her. "it's cute that you think i wasn't already going to go with you, c'mon. if i could get another dog just to go to the shelters and look through all the dogs, i would. but we're going to need to hold each other accountable. we're only coming out with one dog, and it's yours." she doesn't trust herself to not try to get another either, especially if she'll no longer he as strapped for cash.

ANGEL

“yeah, like a baby bjork.” tone reads like duh, a whole lot of conviction even though it’s definitely called baby bjorn. he’s spent way too much time around kids, but apparently still not enough. the term of endearment curled up in her attempt at a vocal fry plucks a smile on his face like his cheeks are attached to strings. “yeah, you like that?” he teases back lowly, turning it back on her. it’s not particularly surprising, they’ve already taken it upon themselves to plan and fantasize about life post-villa and for the most part it feels genuine. even now angel can feel his heart do a spin under the cage of his ribs, feels that compulsion to pick himself up and drag her close to him. it’s starting to feel like a departing from their day-by-day agreement. “deal. only one dog and it’s mine. we can bring elvis, it’ll be tight.” there’s a pause and then he’s sitting up, propped by his palms flat on the ground, to get a look at her. “hey, i know last night was shit and we’re, like, keeping things light and chill today,” he acknowledges with a wry chuckle, “and i don’t wanna put you in a weird spot, but i gotta tell you something.”

CALLIE

"a baby what?" she asks, thinking it's some kind of animal she's never heard of. callie definitely has not been around children enough to know what the fuck he's talking about. she's already anticipating the smile he flashes at her, but somehow it's cuter than she had expected. if he wasn't so far away, she'd be reaching out to squeeze his cheeks, dragging his lips on top of hers. instead she just pictures it, lips pressing together to hold herself back from matching his enthusiasm. "it's better than adorable," she offers with a shrug, knowingly failing to appear coy. "wait, that's actually a good idea. elvis is a great judge of character, for humans and dogs." plus, ideally angel's new pup would get along with hers. the mention of last night makes her deflate a little, leaning back in her chair. she doesn't particularly want to harp on any of it, especially when it's been easy to forget about it when hanging out with angel, but, well... "what's up?" she's already preparing for a mood killer.

ANGEL

“baby bjork,” he explains with mock exasperation. “it’s like a front backpack for a baby.” to illustrate, angel draws the form over his chest with his hands, two straps and the sling in the middle for the child or, in this case, small, deaf chihuahua. but she’s probably right and it’s not particularly feasible, so he waves the idea away with a shrug of his hands. the way callie holds her composure, grasping for restraint, only stirs up his giddiness. he’s the exact opposite end of the spectrum, all grin and quirked brows. “well, i was just thinkin’ ‘cause — i mean, shit was brutal and, like… whatever, we don’t gotta talk about that because we all know seb was just being a brat on his way out.” it’s another topic he’s waving away. “it feels kinda empty in here now, right?” which only means that there are now spots to be filled with fresh blood. “i just want you to know that i’m with you. like, whoever comes through the doors, it’s not gonna change anything for me. take all my eggs, whatever you wanna call it.” angel means it, too, despite the fact that it’s never that easy and it doesn’t cope with the very nature of love island. if anything, he’s probably accidentally daring the gods. “obviously you can do whatever you want, i’m not trying to, like… corner you in or whatever. i know you’re trying to take it easy with me, and that’s chill. but it’s just how i’m feelin’ and i wanna be clear.”

CALLIE

"oh, so exactly what i said." that's totally not what she was expecting him to be talking about, but his miming makes her snort anyway, shaking her head at him. she's grateful this isn't actually about last night, more than happy to wave away the mention of seb and his cuntiness. despite angel being all smiles and his usual sunny disposition, callie doesn't realize she's holding her breath until he gets to his punchline. it's funny, how she's actually expecting him to say the opposite—despite him giving her no reason to believe otherwise, which is what she more or less had said to frankie yesterday—so his admission makes her brow furrow carefully. maybe she should feel happy to hear him say that, because a week ago, she was in an extremely similar position: having known frankie less than a week, coupled with her only a few days, hoping for this kind of confidence from her. but it's from being told countless times that it's a ridiculous ask from anyone that callie pauses, feeling the weight of what he's saying. does he realize it, too? sitting up on the slippery chair, she suddenly feels like there's too much physical distance between them. she motions for him to come closer, making room on her beanbag. "okay," she says, after a few seconds pause. "i'm sorry, i really don't want you to take this the wrong way, but... like, are you sure? it's barely been a week. what if someone comes in tomorrow that's, like, your type or whatever?" has frankie gotten to him somehow, is this what he thinks she wants to hear?

ANGEL

a smile automatically unfurls over his lips, only slightly sardonic. angel isn’t phased by her hesitance, he expected it. when he unceremoniously sinks next to her in the chair, it’s easy to become effortlessly fused to her side. his arm slides behind her shoulders, her knee hooks onto the top of his leg. angel settles in, ready to patiently explain his reasoning, which feels pretty obvious to him. “more my type than you?” he has to point out the absurdity. “it’s not even about type, like — i dunno, i feel like we have a bond, cal. i’m just… i’m not the kinda person who’s lookin’ for greener grass. maybe if someone came in and you vibed with them, things would be different and i’d open up or whatever.” he shrugs, diplomatic. there’s a pause and then he sighs a gentle laugh, pushes a curly lock off the side of her face. “i’m not asking you to take my last name. i’m just letting you know that in here my eyes are only on you. like, i can’t imagine sharing a bed and all that with somebody else. not after everything. ‘cause yeah, sure, ’barely a week’, whatever. i’d be saying the same shit if we were on the outside. i dunno, i feel like that’s not super shocking. like, i like you, cal. i wanna stick with this.” he takes in a long breath, watching her with a small measure of amusement. “be real, how much am i freaking you out right now?”

CALLIE

a beanbag chair typically fits only one person comfortably, but when angel takes the seat beside her callie has no problem making herself at home, legs draped over his own until they're nearly perpendicular together. the physical touch between them already makes his admission feel a little less heavy, although there's a stirring of guilt in the bottom of her stomach. callie leans against him, letting her head rest on his chest, listening for his heart. by now the initial surprise of it has worn off, lips pursing as she feels a smile start to tug at them. "no, you're not," she counters with a short laugh, glancing up to catch his eye. without her ear against his chest, callie realizes it's her own heartbeat she hears, quick and jittery. "just kinda feels like you're tempting fate by saying that. now watch the next bombshell that comes in be some kind of... street racer or something." the smile she flashes him is light, but it's hard not to think about how much more it would sting if his head actually did get turned, after he said all this. "but no, we're on the same page," she admits, reaching for his hand so she can toy with his fingers. "i just don't want you saying all this because, like, you think it's what i’m looking for.” like frankie had thought she wanted. the sting of the knowledge that things had ended between the two of them over wanting commitment too early makes this hit a little too close to home. "and... i should probably tell you. i meant to last night, but then the dumping came up." a small pause. "i talked to frankie again yesterday afternoon. i wanted to see if i could get some closure that didn't end in fighting."

ANGEL

"to be fair, i didn't think this is what you wanted to hear," he admits with a wry chuckle, head sloping to the side. "i was kinda bracing myself for you to be, like... wary about it." and she's making no bones about her apprehension, understandably considering her experience in here so far, probably chock full of people promising her the same things only to breeze into the next person who laughs at their joke. "i'm saying it 'cause it's how i feel about things. like, you think a bombshell will come in that i'd be better friends with than jude?" it feels like the most succinct parallel. some people you just can't replace. the mention of frankie should be like a bucket of cold water, but angel leans into the conversation. he'd wanted to touch on it with callie since the minute he left his chat last night in the smoking area, but after the brutal dumping and it's soap operatic repercussions, he'd afforded her twelve hours of timeout. "i know," he explains, thumb of his free hand sliding up the nape of her neck. "i, uh, talked to her last night, right before bed. she said there was, like... a moment. less than friendly, more than fighting kinda thing."

CALLIE

the fact that he knows her so well makes her laugh a little, but there is something to be said about him telling her this anyway, even if he didn't predict to necessarily like the reaction she gives. it's funny, because he's talking about her wariness and trying to go slow between them, as if they hadn't just been picking out names for the hypothetical dog she's going to help him adopt on the outside. callie's a little past taking it easy, and she has been since their date. it's why she had talked to frankie yesterday, trying to find some semblance of closure between them, so she could fully close that chapter before starting a new one. her conversation with frankie had somehow gone exactly how she expected and yet still left her rattled, but for as much as callie doesn't want compare the two relationships, the way angel is talking to her now versus everything frankie had apparently left unsaid in their brief coupling is like night and day. talking to angel about this now feels like she's tying a nice bow on the frankie conversation before moving on from it—so when angel says that he knows, it's shock enough for callie to drop his hand. "what?" the air suddenly feels too hot and stifling, emotion pricking at her eyes like she's just been slapped. "she told you we had a moment? last night?" it's not like she hadn't been planning on telling him, but the idea of frankie talking to angel of all people about it makes her feel like her privacy's been violated. and he's just known the whole time and hadn't brought it up? god, how bad does she look right now? "i-i didn't even know you two talked, what the hell. it wasn't... it wasn't even like that." closing her eyes, she tries to calm down the momentary panic. "did she say anything else?"

ANGEL

“i didn’t think it was like that,” angel assures her. “i know you woulda said something right away if anything real happened.” which is a big part of why he’s let the whole thing lie for a minute, didn’t rush into a heated chat about it in the midst of her tears last night the way production probably would’ve preferred. “it was all kinda vague. like, you were in her face asking her what she wants and it was hot and then she pushed you back against the wall. i dunno, i felt like she was tryin’ to imply that she wanted to kiss you.” he’s not looking at callie now, has his eyes drawn to their knees mostly in thought. part of angel wonders if he’s half doing frankie’s job for her when he continues, “she said basically she still has feelings for you even though she’s into miles and i got the impression that, like, she wasn’t really trying to move away from those feelings, you know?” and maybe that information will hit callie in her heart, maybe it’ll stir some of her own feelings toward the blonde. better now than later, he figures. “but i’m more interested in your perspective of the whole thing.”

CALLIE

"of course i would've," she sighs, touching her hand to her forehead. despite angel's rationality, her feelings have seemed to move from surprise and panic to anger, jaw tightening as he fills her in on what frankie had said. "she had no bloody right," she said, scowling, "i'm gonna kill her." seb has pissed her off last night, but this was different. as if her conversation with frankie hadn't hurt enough, she has to try to drag angel into the middle of it, when callie had been clear from the beginning that she didn't want him involved. "i wasn't in her face, crikey. i was just... standing in front of her, and yeah, she pushed me into the wall like she was going to kiss me, but she didn't." so why the fuck did frankie feel the need to share this anyway—to try to hurt him? angel's not even looking at her right now, and she can't exactly blame him. callie touches his jaw lightly, before pushing his face to meet her eye. "i'm sorry you had to hear about it from her," she says sincerely, gaze soft. "the whole conversation was stupid. if it was any less than that, i would've told you sooner. when we talked after the recoupling, i was aware i kind of steamrolled over whatever she had to say, so i was trying to give her an opportunity to say her piece. but all she did was talk circles about how we were better off breaking up, but that's not what she wanted, and how i made her feel like a bad person for accidentally trying to pressure her for commitment. she called me princess diana, i don't know." sighing, she wraps her arm around his shoulder, still leaning into him. "i told her i didn't want that, though. so she can do whatever the fuck she wants, but i'm just focused on you. regardless of who comes in here." that's what she had wanted to say from the get-go, but frankie getting thrown into the mix makes it already feel less special.

ANGEL

“nah, i think she just felt like she needed to tell me ‘cause, like, we’ve been chattin’ here and there, y’know? like we were chill with each other.” and it seems clear that whatever happened between callie and frankie was pretty one sided. “that’s definitely fuckin’ over though.” even angel isn’t sweetheart enough to be friends with somebody who’s trying to fuck his girl. his head nods, immediately accepting of her explanation because he can see it so clearly in his head. “did you think about it?” he can’t help but wonder. “like, kissing her.” even in the heat of the moment. frankie’s actions matter far less than what was going through callie’s head at the time. it doesn’t take much to steal his attention back, his eyes sweeping over her expression. a smile curves into the palm of her hand, jaw inclining into her touch. “princess diana?” it’s a humorous comparison, he wonders if frankie sees herself as charles. “she wants you and miles.” it feels like a revelation, one callie’s probably long since come to but it has angel chuckling dryly, head shaking. it’s a far less engaging concept than what callie wants and when she says that it’s him, he believes her. “yeah?” he muses, barely containing a wide, goofy smile. he leans in, his nose sliding against hers with a measure of teasing. “what if some smokin’ hot pro volleyball player chick comes in? and she’s like, ooh, callie, say crikey for me. what do you say back?”

CALLIE

the look she gives him when hearing about him and frankie will probably get screenshotted and used as a meme, chin ducked and eyebrows arched to perfect encapsulate 'are you fucking serious?' "good," she snorts. "i'm never gonna be the type of person to tell you not to talk to someone, but i don't really love the idea of you two as besties." callie's always liked how he's friendly to a fault, but it's nice to know he has limits. lips twist into a grimace at his question, shaking her head. "no, i didn't. and if she kissed me, i would've pushed her off." she means it, too. there's a bitter smile on her lips as he voices the conclusion she's already come too, nodding. "i think so," she says, "but i wish she'd just own up to it. that's what made the whole conversation so frustrating. whenever i asked what she bloody wanted, she'd be like, 'you know.' i mean, she had basically said the first night she wanted to keep getting to know us both, but, it's not like that could happen forever. i think that's why she was trying to get me to be the one to end it—which i did—but it pissed me off, like she was trying to make me the bad guy. i said as much too, and then she called me princess diana, saying how everyone loves me." how poorly that aged after last night makes her scoff. "i don't know, it's just a shitty situation. obviously my feelings for her can't shut off overnight, but all of this is making it bloody easier, i'll tell you that. we're giving each other space." but her anger melts away at his wide smile, and callie kicks a leg over his lap so she's planted on top of him, hands moving to the back of his neck. "trust me, pro sports players are so annoying," she sighs dramatically. "it could never work out. plus it's exhausting, constantly recoupling with people. having to listen to all their complaints about how i cuddle in bed. it's so rude when people do that, right?" eyebrows raise smugly up at him.

ANGEL

“we weren’t gonna be besties,” angel defends, his smile bashful because, yeah, there was a really good chance they were gonna become besties. they’d talked about duo tattoos. luckily for callie, though, that feels strictly like fanfic fodder now, zero chance of existing in reality. his head zips up straight all of a sudden, fresh gossip hitting him and suddenly eager to tell callie. “did you know she hasn’t told miles about it? i went to pull him for a chat to chop it up, but he had, like… no fucking clue what i was talking about.” brows are perked up high on his forehead, equal parts tickled by the gentle scandal and regretful for miles shitty end of the stick. “sucks ‘cause he’ll probably just, like, roll with it, y’know? i mean, it’s probably why she felt like she could stick it on you in the first place. ‘cause he’d let her.” he’s a sweet guy and he wants it to work and fair play to that. angel just hopes miles takes his advice and at least milks the whole thing for all it’s worth, make sure frankie doesn’t get taken over by a moment of madness again. the stretch of his smile parts a bit with manufactured scandal. “oh, you just know all about pro sports players, huh?” head cocks a bit, shtick giving way to genuine interest. “is that what your ex did?” maybe not the most drama-free topic to choose in light of the terrace situation, but angel would be lying if he said he hadn’t been turning his curiosity over in his head since they’d first broached it back in casa. flow of laughter tips his head back, squeezing her tight into him. “i’d never complain about anything you do in bed. couldn’t be me.”

CALLIE

callie just gives him a look, not dignifying his sheepish smile with a remark. it's a little unnerving to hear angel talk about discussing her relationship with frankie with miles; part of her is glad that he has someone who understands, but the selfish part of her wants them both to be as far away from that couple as possible. it shouldn't surprise her that frankie hadn't told miles yet, but her lips purse in annoyance anyway, shaking her head. "oh, good. so she was more concerned with telling you about it, then." the sarcasm rolls off her tongue, still just so bloody angry. "no, i know exactly what's going to happen. she's going to go back to him and tell him that she chose to be with him, as if i'm not the one who took myself out of the equation. whatever," she shakes her head, no longer wanting to get into it, "they can do what they want. i hope they're happy, really." except she's not too sure she means that right now, even as she tries to control her frustration. "i talked to miles the other night. he seems nice," she offers, to throw him a bone. "but i think i scared him off," callie adds, and this time it's her smile that's sheepish. it's not like wants to be on bad terms with miles, but until the drama with frankie subsides, being around him isn't going to let the wound heal. of course angel brings her ex into it, flashing him a rueful smile before shaking her head. "i was a competitive surfer for a few, remember? i've been around the lot enough." it's one of the reasons why she couldn't get into the vibe of trying to go pro; she liked being around people who also loved what she did, but some of them really knew how to suck the fun out of it. her laughter comes out easy, as it always does with him, leaning forward to capture his lips with hers. it's a little too easy to get carried away when they're pressed together like this, but she forces herself to pull away after a bit, with a smirk. "so, i'm totally your type, huh?" callie teases.

#can you tell im putting off work #callie & angel ;#callie ;#callie & angel 010 #let the record show angellie has officially surpassed frankallie in number of threads

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