#becoming potatoes is my favorite song

[kawaiichibiart]

[ssruis]

your fave comms for every wondasho character!

Tsk+emu get 2 (im indecisive)

[revasserium]

waiting for winter (我期待的不是雪)

zayne; 1,616 words; fluff, pining, gn!reader, no "y/n", spoilers for lads ch.4, whipped!zayne

summary: he has never loved the winter

a/n: yes, this was inspired by that one chinese tiktok song. no, i will not elaborate.

He has never loved the winter.

But he remembers the first time he watched the snow fall reflected in your eyes — your cheeks kissed pink by the unforgiving wind, the sky a smear of white as the cold sunk into his bones. He remembers the silver bell ring of your laughter as you’d dragged him by the hand out to build a snowman, the look on your face when he’d remarked that your snowman’s nose was crooked because there were no carrots at the corner store so you’d had to make do with a potato instead.

“Look! It’s snowing!”

Zayne shakes himself into the present, glancing out of his office window at the cotton-soft flurries spinning by his windows. Across from him, you’re sitting with a muffler thrown haphazardly around your shoulders, watching the snow with an open, child-like wonder that makes his entire chest twist tight with —

He clears his throat.

“All the more reason for you to be careful — make sure to bundle up when you go outside,” he says, dropping his eyes back to your most recent health report.

You’re not sleeping enough, and your vitamin D levels are lower than he’d like. He’d hoped that becoming a Hunter would at least expose you to a decent amount of sun but then again, you had told him that Jenna’s been keeping tight reigns on you since the explosion.

“Yeah, yeah — I’ll be careful.”

He looks up, his eyes dark as he looks over the shape of you, fingers curled in your lap as you look up at him from beneath your lashes. He holds your gaze and fights to keep his expression neutral as you blush and look away, somehow reverting back to a much younger version of you — the memory of it superimposed upon the look of you now.

“You’re just as bossy as you were back then,” you say, sighing as you shrug up your shoulders like a scolded child.

Zayne scoffs, affording himself a small laugh, “Except I have a doctorate to back it up now, don’t I?”

You pout, pursing your lips. Zayne wonders, for the millionth time that day, how soft they might be beneath his own.

“I liked you better before you got your fancy creds,” you say, still pouting.

Zayne sighs, flicking off his tablet and putting it down on the table.

“Alright, what do you want?”

You blink up at him, eyes wide enough to convince anyone else of your innocence. But he knows better. He’s always known better.

“What do you mean?”

He ticks his tongue against his teeth and leans back in his chair, checking his watch.

“It’s almost lunchtime — c’mon.”

He pushes up from his desk and tugs his doctor’s coat from his shoulders, rolling them loose of the tightness that had gathered there all morning.

“Huh?”

He rounds his desk and tugs his winter coat from the back of the door, turning to fix you with a look.

“The noodle shop around the corner has your favorite as a lunch special.”

He counts down from five in his head — four, three, two —

“Really?” your face breaks into a grin wide enough to split your face. He chuckles.

“Yes, really. Are you coming?”

You stare for a second longer before leaping to your feet and bounding to his side. He reaches out to adjust your muffler, tying it tighter over the front of your chest, swatting your hand away when you try to loosen it.

“I’m going to choke!”

“Better that than for you to get sick again.”

He tugs open the door and watches you walk into the hallway, a bounce to your step that he hasn’t seen since you were both kids and he’d promised you he’d buy you sweets on the way home from school.

“How’re you so sure that the lunch specials gonna be my favorite?” you ask, pivoting on your heels and fixing him with a look, halfway down the white-washed hospital halls. Zayne takes his time buttoning up his own coat and locking his office door behind him.

“Because,” he says, voice steady as he strolls by you, glancing down with the shadow of a smile crimping his lips —

“I know you.”

* * *

He has never loved the winter.

But, he thinks as he watches you slurp down a bowl of wide-cut noodles, your cheeks flushed red with joy, he might just learn to love a winter like this.

You don’t question it when he reaches out to swipe at the corner of your mouth with this thumb, licking off the excess with a contemplative hm. But he revels in the way you swallow and blush and look away.

He wonders if you know.

He wonders if you know that you haunt him like the cold haunts him on the nights when he’s alone. He wonders if you see him the way he sees you, cast behind his eyelids like the frames of an old film whenever he closes his eyes, your smile more familiar to him than his own.

“Full?” he asks, watching as you wipe your mouth on a bit of napkin, lips stained red by the chili sauce.

“Mhm!” you nod, smiling up at him.

The noodle shop smells of chicken stock and green onions and the sharp dampness of snow on winter coats. You push the noodle bowl away and stare down at your hands.

“Are you — I mean… you have to go back to work, right?”

He can’t help but notice the note of reluctance in your voice, the way you look up at him as if hoping he’ll say no. He nods, folding his napkin into halves, and then forths. Outside, the sun is already falling toward the far horizon, casting everything in a goldenrod glow. Shadows fall long and sure along the pavement and Zayne doesn’t want to think about the endless hours of darkness ahead.

“Are you going home after this?” he asks, nodding stiffly to the waiter as he hands over his card, wordlessly pushing your hand away as you make a feeble attempt to try and snatch the receipt.

“I… was thinking about going to see a movie,” you say, thumbing at a stray thread along the edge of your coat. He watches you tug at it for a while before reaching out to take your hand in his.

“Go home,” he says, his voice level.

Your brow creases in a slight frown as you look up.

“But… I wanted to see —”

“We’ll see it this weekend,” he says, giving your hand a quick squeeze before letting go, thanking the waiter as he takes back his card and scribbles his signature on the receipt.

“We will?” you ask, blinking up at him as he stands up.

“Yes. It’s showing Saturday at 2:30 — we can get lunch before, or dinner after.”

He’s tugging on his coat when you reach up to loop his scarf around his neck, standing too close, so close he can smell the caramel milk and whipped cream of your skin. He fights down the shivers that threaten to shake down his spine as he goes still, waiting as you tuck his scarf securely around his neck.

“You never tie your scarf right,” you say, dropping back down onto your heels even as you shoulder on your own coat, cheeks dusted the most darling shade of pink Zayne has ever seen. As he watches you, he thinks it might just put the winter sun to shame.

He thinks he might thank you, or he might just bend down and kiss you — he’s uncertain all the way till you make it outside and you turn to smile up at him. And like this, with the dying sun caressing the edge of your cheek, the line of your jaw, you are nothing short of ethereal.

Zayne reaches forward, his thumb and forefinger catching your chin as he leans down.

Your gasp is little more than a hiccup of breath —

“Don’t be late,” he says, stopping mere inches from your lips, whispering the words against where your lips might be if he were a little more daring.

You hold perfectly still, your eyes round as you stare up at him, searching his face for… something — anything.

When he pulls back, he thinks you almost make to chase him. But you let his fingers drop from your skin and you tug at your muffler, toeing at the slushed-up snow on the sidewalk.

“Winter’s my favorite season, y’know,” you say. And Zayne doesn’t dare to hope. But he does — he watches you out of the corner of his eyes. Above you, all around you, the afternoon sun flickers and fades, a daytime aurora, like tendrils of some long-gone magic, coaxing willing believers toward their untimely doom.

“Hn,” he says, not trusting himself with more. He waits; you take a long breath before turning to look at him.

“You wanna know why?” you ask. And finally, finally he turns to you, his eyes catching your eyes — and in them, he sees the twisting colors of the sky reflected there, serpentine and sinuous. Ancient and inexorable. Reds and yellows, pinks and purples, bleeding into an endless, endless winter blue.

He wets his lips and swallows hard, “Why?”

You smile, and it is like the first glimmer of sun after an arctic winter’s night, and he can’t breathe for the sight of it.

“Because… it reminds me of you.”

lads requests r.... open lol

[ryanmarshallryan]

The Foodie Genie

Vincent had purchased a vintage cookie jar from an odd little antique booth at a local county fair. He thought it would be a perfect thing to put his homemade cookies in, which he always kept a batch of dough ready to make on hand, as they were his favorite, and perfect to bring out when hosting guests.

He did not expect it, though, when it began to smoke as he tried to clean it at home. Sparks flew out of it as he dropped it into his sink. Somehow unshattered, but still spewing sparks and purple colored smoke, he heard it make a squelching sound as if someone was prying their hand out of the cookie jar but it was suctioned in.

A great big figure of semi-transparent man jolted up out of the cookie jar and smacked its head into the ceiling.

“Years of hitting my head in my tiny little jar, to finally being released to hit my head again. Go figure,” said the being.

Vincent surveyed its impressive height, its massive belly, its bald head and goatee, and the way its legs seemed to swirl away into almost smoke.

“All right then, let’s get to it, I am Xavier, Genie for the Foodies, great to meet you,” Xavier held out a comically large hand, Vincent stared at it in surprise, “And your name is?”

“Vincent,” he blurted out, “Vincent’s my name, but you - what are you?”

“A genie. You got ears right?” Xavier said as it leaned back in the air, crossed its arms which accentuated its belly forward a bit.

“Of a cookie jar? I’m confused.”

“I could do the whole song and dance introduction, but I don’t want to overwhelm the already overwhelmed.” Xavier stated, magicking a large cushioned chair, and motioning Vincent into it. “You see, I’m a special kind of genie. A previous wish-giver was a foodie if I ever saw one, and made it so I can only grant wishes of a specific nature. For example, any food you could desire I could produce.”

Just then a whole feast of roast duck, mashed potatoes and gravy, green beans and more appeared with a pop in front of Vincent. Then in another moment all vanished, and was replaced with a buffet style platter filled with noodles and meats and rolls and veggies, and again vanished and was replaced with a vat of ice cream, steaming in the hot room.

“You get the picture, I can help you experience the rarest of delicacies too… and every once in a while I get someone who wants to become a rare delicacy themself, if you know what I mean.” Xavier raised his eyebrows, and watched as Vincent looked intrigued. “The one who wished I could only grant food related wishes, used his last wish to have me even swallow him whole! He wanted to experience first hand what it would be like to be food,” Xavier, floated upside down and let his large belly hang down and show how massive it is. It seemed to grow and inflate until it was pushing up against Vincent’s face.

In a flash of smoke Vincent suddenly had a gut the size of a yoga ball, and the genie was back to normal.

“Or I can give you more room, so that any meal you desire you’ll be able to finish, and have room for seconds…” Xavier snapped and Vincent’s belly swelled to the size of a compact car, “Thirds… fourths… you get the picture.”

In another puff of smoke the room filled with jello and Vincent felt himself floating in the giant mass and heard a muffled shouting from Xavier say “Or if you’d like to play with your food, I’m sure we could have a fun swim.” Another puff of smoke and Vincent was as small as a soup spoon, looking up at a dollhouse sized castle made of graham crackers and gingerbread. The candy door of it swung open and Xavier popped out, “Come on in, and consider a wish. You get three. No more. No less.”

Vincent entered the graham cracker castle, grabbed a chunk of chocolate that was by the door and nibbled on it. Xavier let him up a staircase made of cake, into a hall with a long table. They sat down and Xavier asked again what wish Vincent would begin with.

Vincent thought for a while. He supposed his wishes didn’t matter as much as a normal genie’s might. He didn’t think the world would collapse if he wished for a fridge with unlimited eclairs or something.

“I wish I had a fridge that could summon any food I desire when I opened it.”

“I can work with that,” said Xavier. A flash of smoke and they were normal sized, sitting on the kitchen floor. The genie gestured behind Vincent who turned to see a purple fridge replacing his old one. He opened it to find his favorite smoothie sitting on the center rack.

“Cool!” Vincent exclaimed, picking up the smoothie, closing the door and opening it again to find a plate of kebab waiting for him as well, “I didn’t even realize I wanted that. Thanks!”

Vincent drank and ate as he considered another wish. How could a wish regarding food be helpful for both himself and others? Maybe he could wish to change the taste of anything he ate to something he loved. That’d make shoving down the burnt stuff his friend made more bearable, even enjoyable. Or perhaps he could wish to not have any allergy to food or poison: to digest anything. But what if he wanted to heat something but not digest it?  “I wish I could change the shape of my gut at will, so if I want to eat a whole roast pig I could do it in one sitting, but then be able to change my gut’s size back to another size to fit my clothes.”

“Hmm that’s an interesting one. Many ways that one could be used without relation to food so it’d be tricky to see if my powers would allow. I think I can grant it, but only if the primary body part you are changing shape is that of your gut and digestive system.”

Vincent felt a surge of energy through him like an electric charge. He looked down at his gut and imagined it ballooning to the size of a watermelon. It did so. He opened the fridge and found a cantaloupe waiting for him, and he stretched open his mouth to an impossible size and fit the melon in easily, swallowing it down if it were a small round candy. He felt his gut with his hands, feeling the soft flesh and the hard melon underneath layers of it. He imagined that his gut would be packed with thick fat to pad the melon inside. He watched as his layers of fat grew thicker and thicker until his gut could easily fit a human inside and have enough fat padding no one would notice a difference in shape. 

“Wow, genie, you outdid yourself with this one. I think my friend Henry is gonna get a kick out of this,” Vincent said, turning back to the fridge. This time, when he opened it, the racks were gone and in their place was a full size human being, looking utterly bewildered at their being in a refrigerator. 

“Hello? Vincent? How on earth - I was just in the library. How did I get here?” said the man in the fridge, stepping out of it into the kitchen, “And who’s this? Or what is this?” he said, gesturing to the genie.

“I know you’ve got a million questions but I’d like to try something if you’re still interested,” Vincent said, “Remember when you told me about those funny fantasies you like to muse about when you’re - well you know what I mean?”

Henry looked between the genie and Vincent, and began to notice their large bellies, “What - ?”

“Wanna make it a reality for a bit? I can let you out later. Like this,” Vincent’s stomach changed shape and the melon popped out of his mouth, good as new. 

Henry looked surprised, but interested. “Wow, you swallowed that whole?”

“And you’re next, Henry,” Vincent said, with a gleam of devilishness in his smile. He glanced down on Henry and saw he wasn’t the only one changing shape. With one quick swoop, Vincent grabbed Henry by the shoulders, and threw him head first into his rapidly stretching mouth, sending him down into his belly, which was swelling to the size of a large couch again. Henry seemed to be quite content with this experience, not even struggling to slide down into his friend's belly.

The genie started clapping, “Oh my, what a show! You’ve got the hang of it quite quickly! But I must warn you, you must make three wishes by the time the clock strikes the hour mark, or all of your wishes will be revoked! And if that happens, your friend might be stuck in there for good with no magical stretching maw to let him back out.”

“The hour mark? Isn’t that like Cinderella and stuff? Why’s there a time limit?” Vincent asked, rubbing his gut and mildly distracted by the lump of Henry inside.

“Someone tried to wait to give me a final wish for 30 years and I got fed up and got special permission to start setting time limits.”

“Oh, I suppose that makes sense,” Vincent said absent mindedly, turning to the clock which read 3:59pm. Sudden panic filled him and he jostled his belly, sending Henry bouncing around. “One minute!”

“30 seconds actually,” said Xavier, not stressed about it.

Vincent’s mind went blank with shock as he tried to think of something good. He gave up and went with something that intrigued him earlier, “You said you ate one of the previous wisher people? That could be interesting I suppose to know what it’s like for Henry. I wish you would swallow me whole for a bit, then let me out before I get digested!”

Xavier looked excited and coy, “Really? Me eat you? I haven’t eaten in years,” the genie said, blushing. He clapped his hands and the room filled with smoke, and suddenly the two of them were steaming in a warm vat of hot fudge together. Xavier leaned in close, “I like a little flavor. But what would suit you best? Hmm…” The genie snapped its fingers and the vat of hot fudge turned to chicken soup… then to a birthday cake… then to a pool filled with chicken parm and pasta… then suddenly Vincent found himself sandwiched between two human sized slices of seeded bread, with an assortment of stuffing, cranberry sauce, turkey and lettuce and tomato. “Just want to say thank you for being a great wish-giver,” said the genie.

Vincent’s eyes grew wide as Xavier’s mouth stretched to the size of a door. Vincent felt air rush past his face as the genie’s throat seemed to start vacuuming the air around them down inside it. The sandwich lurched forward and Vincent watched as the giant mouth came closer and closer and he began falling into it, feeling the wet, mushy expanse of the back of the genie’s throat, and the tight squeeze down its esophagus. He fell what felt like ten feet down a tight, slimy tunnel of saliva, and landed in an opening chamber of stomach juices that tingled his skin. He felt around the giant stomach and felt it shrinking. He began with space to move around, but by the time it stopped shrinking he could barely move his chest to breathe. He hoped Henry was doing alright in his own belly, though his empathy was not deep when he felt Henry’s elbows and knees jabbing directly into his bladder and lungs. He felt the stomach walls around him knead his body, squeezing and contracting, as acid trickled down his sweaty face. He felt like he was dissolving into soup, felt like he could no longer tell where his fat belly ended and the one he was in began.

He began to fade into unconsciousness when, in a puff of purple smoke, he felt all stress upon his body relinquish as if he had been let go of from the tightest, sweatiest hug ever. He landed softly, seated on the ground of his kitchen. He looked around but did not see the genie anywhere. Xavier had gone. He felt a bit groggy. Perhaps he had passed out on the kitchen floor. Had it all been a dream? 

His answer came at once.

“Hey, bud, I’m having a great time… but you might wanna swallow some antacids, or let me out soon… unless you're hoping to make me permanently belly fat, of course, but this stomach acid is getting stronger.”

Vincent turned to the fridge. It was still purple. “Cool,” he whispered to himself. He looked up where the genie had been floating a while before and mouthed a silent “thank you.”

“Vincent? You there? I’m kinda digesting in here.” Henry called with a forced-casual tone showing signs of mild panic.

“Oh, right!” Vincent said, opening the fridge to find antacids and threw the whole unopened bottle in his mouth and right down into his belly.

A while later, after stretching his throat and mouth to let Henry out, the pair of them sat at the table, sharing some cookies. They sat in silence for awhile, enjoying each other’s company and processing what had happened.

“So I’m thinking, maybe I can come over for dinner again next week?” Henry said.

“To be dinner? Or share dinner?” Vincent joked.

“Why not both?” They shared a smile.

[star-eyed-angels]

Stray Kids Reaction | FLUFF | Soft Moments With Your Child

Times you watch them bond with their child

Word Count: 3.6k

A/N: Sorry for the longer wait on this one, hope you like it 💛

Warnings: none, just some tooth rotting fluff

________

CHAN

When you walk into your home, you expect to find your daughter and husband lounging about. Their favorite pastime of being live in couch potatoes as they watch movies and snack all day.

Instead you’re greeted by music and the sound of giggles

“Channie? Chunhee?,” you call out as you make your way down the hallway. Neither responds to your calls.

You follow the soft music playing into the living room, you feel your heart swell when you walk in to see your husband swaying around the room, your daughter standing on his toes.

You stop in the doorway, neither one having noticed you yet. Your husband sings along, staring down at her. Your daughter giggles, hugging your husband tighter. He smiles leaning down to kiss her head.

She lets go of his hands reaching up to him.

“Daddy will you carry me?” She asks.

He lifts her up without question, continuing his dancing. He continues to sing to her, as she lays against his chest.

You smile as you notice her eyes start to droop closed.

Chan must notice the change as he stays in place, swaying slowly in his spot. And his singing becomes a light whisper. You walk into the room quietly, Chan hears and turns around slowly. Smiling at you shyly. His ears pink up as you give him a knowing look.

“You played her our song?” you whisper, mindful of your sleeping girl.

“Yeah… she wanted me to teach her to dance and I thought I could show it to her,” he whispers back.

“Something for her to have from us.”

His hand continues to soothe down your daughter’s hair softly. A dimpled smile takes over as he looks down at her fondly. Your heart swells at the sight.

“Christopher, if we weren’t already married, I would be down on one knee proposing to you again,” you say, your own grin creeping its way on your face.

He giggles, shyly looking away, the tops of his ears, and back of his neck turning pink once again.

“Shut it you big sap,” he says with nothing but affection coating his words.

Your grin only grows as you lean forward, planting a kiss against his ever-reddening cheeks.

MINHO

Relief fills you as you walk into your home. The house is fairly quiet, except for the sounds of the stove and gentle voices. You make your way towards the sound, throwing your belongings to the side. Your heart warms at the sight in your kitchen, Minho stands in front of the stove, steam steadily rising as he slowly stirs what’s in the pot in front of him. Next to him is your son, Hyunwoo, who’s standing on a chair in front of the counter. He’s quiet as he peers over the counter, head just barely poking over the top.

“We have to stir this for ten minutes to make sure it tastes yummy,” Minho explains softly.

Your son nods, staring between his dad and the pot before him.

“Then we can eat dinner with Eomma?,” he asks excitedly.

Minho hums, using his free hand to ruffle Hyunwoo’s hair.

“Yes buddy, once she gets home we’ll all eat together, okay?”

Okay!”

You softly knock on the doorway, to the kitchen. Minho turns, a smile gracing his face as he looks at you. Hyunwoo turns, teetering as he tries to balance himself on the chair.

“Eomma! You’re home! Look what me and appa are making!” He says, excitedly bouncing on the balls of his feet.

You smile, easily gliding over to stand behind his chair.

“Smells amazing my loves. Did you help daddy make this?” your voice soft, as you run your hand over his hair affectionately.

“Uh huh! Helped him wash the vegetables and put them in the pot!”

He beams up at you, his smile reminding you of Minho’s baby pictures. You smile, pressing a tender kiss to the top of his head.

“Well, it looks delicious. Tell you what, why don’t you go wash up and we can set the table together, okay?”

He’s all but scrambling off the chair. You steady him as he climbs off, watching him fondly as he dashes down the hallway.

You feel Minho’s arm snake its way around your waist, tugging you to him. You go willingly, wrapping your own arm around him.

“Where’s my kiss? Gave Woo all the attention, what am I chopped liver?” He teases, nudging your head softly.

“Big baby,” you mutter. You still tilt your head, pressing a gentle kiss against his lips.

“Glad you’re home,” he says, pecking your lips once more. You press closer to him, relaxing in his hold.

“Me too.”

CHANGBIN

You’re laying against Changbin, a random movie playing on the tv. Your head against his shoulder as his arm rubs up and down the side of your arm. It’s well past the time you should both be asleep, but you’re more than happy to sit here doing nothing with your husband.

The sound of a door slowly creaking open pulls you out of the sleepy haze. You sit up as you hear small footsteps pad their way into the living room. You and Binnie turn just as your son, Junmyeon, stops in the hallway.

In one hand he clutches a small blue blanket, a gift from Changbin, frowning as he sniffles lightly. His small cheeks puffing up like his father’s as he stares back at you.

“Hey baby, what are you doing up sweetheart?” You ask softly.

He rubs his eyes with his fist, his exhaustion clear as he sways slightly.

“Can’t sleep,” he pouts, tears welling up in his eyes.

“Hey it’s okay bubba, come here baby,” you coo, motioning for him to come into the room. He toddles over to where you and Binnie sit on the couch. You open your arms ready to pick him up when he turns towards your husband. Changbin, who’s been quiet this entire time, looks down at him.

“Daddy will you hold me?” Your son asks quietly.

Your husband sits shocked, used to Junmyeon wanting your affection. He is a mama’s boy just like his father. When Changbin still stares in shock, you nudge him quickly.

“Of course bub, come here,” he says, opening his arms. Your son falls into his arms easily. He practically goes limp as Changbin lifts him into his chest. He tucks his face against your husband’s neck. You smile as you watch Binnie lean back on the couch, putting the blanket around Junmyeon’s shoulders. He begins rubbing his hand up and down your son’s back carefully. In less than five minutes you hear the soft snores come from your son.You smile, sneaking a look at Changbin who wears a big goofy grin.

“He asked me to hold him,” your husband whispers, glancing back at your son.

“He did,” you nod, your hand coming up to massage the back of his neck.

“He’s never done that,” he says, mostly to himself. You hum, watching the loving look he gives your sleeping son.

“You okay Binnie?”

“Couldn’t be better. Now come here. Let me hold both of my babies,” His free arm reaches out to pull you against him. You shake your head, but fall back against his side. You smile as your arms curl around his middle, hugging him closer as you get comfortable.

“Never mind, this is much better,” he says, kissing the sides of both your heads.

HYUNJIN

It’s a quiet Sunday in the Hwang household. You’re quietly fixing up snacks in kitchen, Hyunjin sits at the dining table, painting to his heart’s content, and Hwayoung sits in the living room, quietly watching a movie. Or at least she was, until Hyunjin began to paint. From your place in the kitchen you can see her peak over the couch, staring intently at her dad painting.

You don’t think Hyunjin’s ever noticed the way she watches, so encapsulated by the art he creates. That’s where she gets it after all. He gets so engrossed in what he creates that the world turns a little quieter around him. And for her, she gets so engrossed in what he’s doing she can’t find the chance to look away. Her eyes always curious, identical to her dad’s as she watches him bring his art to life.

But you do take notice. Since the day she could sit up, she’s always eyed his work, whether it be his dancing, his singing, or even his painting. Everything he does makes her little eyes sparkle in wonder. Her quiet nature made it hard for her to express the curiosity that sits on the top of her tongue. You never had the heart to push her to ask, only soft whispers of encouragement to ask to join her father. She’d always decline, content to sit and watch from a distance.

Tonight seems different, as she eyes him, her small fingers twitching where they grip the couch cushion. You glance up, seeing her in the same spot. You look down at the snacks you prepare, then glance up to see Hwayoung gone. A few seconds passes before you see her emerge from behind the couch, tentatively walking towards your husband. You hold your breath as she stops a few paces away from him. You can see the way she takes a deep breath before she calls out to him softly.

“Daddy?”

His eyes and towards her immediately, offering her a gentle smile as he sets his paintbrush down, “Hey petal, do you need something?”

“Can I paint with you?” She asks quietly.

There’s a brief pause as you see Hyunjin freeze, like he’s processing what she’s just asked. You smile as you watch him grin, suppressing his urge to shout in excitement.

“Of course you can, my little muse,” he says, voice a little shaky.

Hyunjin lifts Hwayoung with ease, placing her into his lap. He pulls the hairband from his own head, pulling her hair up into a tiny ponytail.

“What do you want to paint, petal?” He asks, eyes already scanning the table.

“Can you teach me to make a flower? I wanna draw them as good as you do,” her voice shy.

Hyunjin nods, already sifting for a good size brush for her.

You’re quiet as you watch them from your spot in the kitchen. You smile as you watch Hyunjin tremble from excitement. You pull your phone out from your pocket, quietly snapping a few pictures, knowing Hyunjin will want this moment engraved forever.

He turns to look at you when the camera clicks, giving you the biggest grin as he looks between your daughter and you. Your smile mirrors his as you walk out with the snacks you’ve prepared, taking your place across the table from them. Ready to watch them paint to their heart's content.

JISUNG

Late night strolls in the park are practically built into your family routine at this point. You suppose you shouldn’t be surprised that Byeol is a night owl. Her father is a thousand percent to blame due to his own sleep patterns. You don’t mind though, it’s much easier to avoid unwanted reporters and paparazzi hovering to snap photos of you, Jisung and your daughter during the night like this. During the night you practically get the park to yourselves.

The three of you walk along the river, towards the playground you’re all too familiar with. Byeol and Jisung skip ahead in front of you, swinging their arms as they dance around to a made up song from your husband. Their silly antics make you smile, content to watch them good around with each other.

Your daughter giggles, running off ahead, her arms outstretched like an airplane as she sees the playground come closer.

“Look dad, I'm like an airplane!” She shouts, making little whooshing noises as she spins and sways.

Your husband laughs, jogging up to catch her. When he’s close enough, he bends down, grabbing her carefully. Your daughter squeals as jisung lifts her onto his shoulders. He keeps his hand locked around her waist, ensuring she won’t fall off.

“Hold on, okay precious?” He says, waiting for her to let him know she’s ready.

“Okay daddy!” She says, holding his arms in her small hands.

You shake your head, as jisung takes off, making loud airplane noises as he weaves around the park with ease. Your daughter’s laughter floats through the air, her bright smile a carbon copy of your husband’s.

Your heart couldn’t be more full as you pause to watch them. You're quick to take out your phone, recording the two as they zip around the park. Your own laughter bubbles out as you watch the pair get to the playground. Jisung carefully sets your daughter down, making her giggle as he acts like a flight attendant, wishing her safe travels. You see him say something briefly to Byeol before they both take off quickly. You’re two night owls screaming as they race each other to the swing set.

FELIX

You wake up slowly, lulled into consciousness by the sound of cooking and soft music. The blanket falls to your side as you sit up, stretching your arms above your head.

You make your way out of the room being quiet as you get to your daughter’s room. You open the door carefully, expecting her to be asleep, only to find her bed already made. You peek into the room, seeing no signs of your daughter, just then the smell of food floods your senses, your stomach growling at the scent.

The smell of pancakes and fresh coffee only get stronger when you reach the bottom of the stairs. You walk towards the kitchen, following the scent. As you get closer you hear the sound of your husband singing.

You’re greeted by the sight The island covered in fresh food, carefully arranged on their own little platters. Your heart warms at the sight of your husband, cooking breakfast carefully. Your daughter, Myeong, is carefully balanced on Felix’s hip as he cooks. She hums along as he sings, still a little too sleepy to offer much help. She glances back towards the door, noticing you come in.

“Morning mommy!” Her head popping up slightly.

“Good morning, what are my sunshines up to?,” Your voice still rough from sleep.

Felix turns around, smiling brightly when he sees you.

“Good morning pretty, Myeong and I were just making you breakfast,” he says casually flipping another pancake.

You hum, leaning over to kiss your daughter’s head, before placing a soft kiss near your husband’s lips.

“Such a perfect thing to wake up to. Thought I was dreaming for a second when I walked in,” you say, leaning your head against his shoulder.

He laughs, nudging you slightly with his hip.

“Are you telling me I’m not dreamy enough for you on a normal day?,” he teases quietly. With his attention turned to you, he fully neglects the pancake still in the pan, unknowing letting it burn.

“I don’t know, dreamy guys don’t burn their pancakes like you’re doing right now..” you quip back.

He whips around, muttering light curses as he hurriedly flips the pancake before it can burn anymore. You snicker as you hear him haphazardly censor his swears. Your daughter laughs, a small smile on her face as she watches you both bicker. Felix pouts as he adds the pancake to the stack he has so far. The sad pancake is clearly a different shade from the others. You laugh, leaning up to place another kiss to your husband's cheek.

“It’s okay Lixie, you’re still dreamy, even if your pancakes are a little burnt,” you say sweetly. He huffs out a laugh, giving you a loving glare.

SEUNGMIN

You mentally prepare yourself as you hear the mischievous giggles drawing closer. When you feel someone standing behind you, you don’t bother looking up. The laptop in front of you taking all your attention. That is until you feel small fingers tugging on your sweater, and bigger hands ghosting against the back of your neck. The tickling sensation makes you shiver, but you continue typing away on your laptop.

“Kim seungmin, kim seojun.” you say in warning.

Your son giggles louder as your husband snickers, hand continuing to ghost over your sensitive neckœ.

“Babies let me concentrate on my work,” you beg, doing your best not to squirm.

“We’re not doing anything momma!” your son says, though you already feel the light tugs at your sweater starting up again.

“Seungmin,”

“Seojun’s right, I’m not even touching you baby,” seungmin says, even as his fingers graze closer to your neck.

You send a glare behind you as you pause your typing.

“Menace,” you grumble under your breath.

“Menace? What does that mean daddy?” your son, ever the listener, repeats immediately.

‘It means your momma loves me, right honey?”

You roll your eyes, glaring back at him.

“Right, I love him so much I wanna squeeze him to death,” you deadpan.

Your son giggles oblivious to your words. Your husband on the other hand, reaches down pinching your cheek.

“Right back at you baby,” he says sweetly.

You huff, fake biting Seungmin’s hand. He squawks at you, Seojun bursting into another fit of giggles at your antics.

“I have to finish this report for work, give me a little more time, okay?” you say turning to look at them.

“Come on baby, you’ve been sitting here all night, don’t you think you should take a break?” Seungmin says, ruffling your hair.

You sigh, getting ready to reject when Seojun cuts in.

“Please please take a break! Papa and I really wanna watch a movie with you!,” he begs. Part of you curses Seungmin for giving him his goddamn, big brown, puppy eyes. The other part of you melts at the sight of Seungmin’s mini-him with his signature little pout on full display. Seungmin has taught him far too well in getting whatever he wants with that look. You cast one last glance at your laptop, before sighing.

“Alright, my lovely menaces, we can watch a movie, but only one, deal?”

Seojun is yelling in excitement before you can finish the rest of your sentence.

“You know, you really are raising a mini menace,” you say, saving your progress to your laptop. Seungmin hums, resting his chin on top of your head. He rests his hands on your shoulders, giving them a light squeeze.

“Maybe, but he’s our little menace,” he says, pressing a quick kiss to your head. You can’t help but smile.

“Yeah, and I wouldn’t trade him for the world.”

JEONGIN

“Yah! Get back here you little gremlin!”

“Jeongin, don't call our son a gremlin!” you call out.

“Well he’s acting like one!” he fires back, beginning to chase your son.

Your son, Minjun, merely giggles, continuing to weave between the furniture as your husband chases after him. This has been going on for the past half hour, after the pair decided to play a card game. It took five rounds of Jeongin losing before he realized his son was hustling him. Now they’ve been running across the house, your husband ‘seeking his vengeance’.

In reality you know he isn’t mad, in fact he’s delighted to be able to spend time with his son. Touring and constant comebacks make it hard for quality time like this. In fact, if Jeongin were to try hard enough, he could catch Minjun in half a step. Instead he’s perfectly content to chase him around, grin threatening to break through the frown on his face. Minjun squeals as Jeongin finally catches up to him,

“Gotcha!” He says, tossing your son over his shoulder.

You smile as you watch them from your spot on the couch, quietly shaking your head at their antics.

“Mom, save me! Your son cries out as your husband begins swinging him from side to side.

“Your mom can't save you!” Jeongin, says using a fake evil laugh. Your son shrieks through his giggles, gripping onto his dad’s shirt.

“Okay dad! I'm sorry for cheating, put me down, please!” your son tries to surrender.

“Nope! The price for your release just went up.”

Your son squeals as Jeongin begins tickling the backs of his legs and feet.

“Okay! Okay! I'll do anything!” your son cries out.

“Admit that I’m your favorite and that you love me more,” Jeongin says, briefly pausing his tickling attack.

“Hey! That's not fair!” you say, “ you can't bribe our son like that.” You’re mostly joking, but you still shoot a glare towards your Jeongin.

“Sorry baby, that’s my payment,” he shrugs, only sparing you a quick glance, “so what’s it gonna be kid? Admission or life in captivity?”

“You can’t keep me here forever!” Minjun tries, attempting to wiggle free.

“I don’t know… you’re pretty light, I can probably live everyday like this. I think I can dance with you on my back too,” Jeongin says, beginning to dance to his latest choreo. Your son giggles, shaking his head in defeat.

“Okay! You win! You’re my favorite and I love you more!” Minjun shouts.

“Thank you!” Jeongin grins, finally setting your son down. He holds him by his shoulder, giving him a serious look.

“Seriously though, you can’t be doing this with your schoolmates and friends okay? It’s not okay to cheat, even if it may seem fun,” he says firmly.

“I won’t, I promise dad,” your son nods. Jeongin smiles, ruffling his hair affectionately.

“Good. Now teach me how you did it so I can use it against your uncle Changbin.”

[butterfilledpockets]

NEXT AU ON THE BRAIN

Chasing Shadows (named after the song)

(essentially the entire plot) (did not expect to be able to draw Kraang first try ajgbksjrgbksg)

(oh erm , this is also not one with a happy ending)

Leo survives the final attack of the Kraang, and salvages a single old Walkman having belonged to Donnie, as well as the Resistance Karaoke machine, containing all the recordings of their singing and cheesy songs.

Now he runs across the ruined world, surviving purely to spite of the Kraang. And to keep alive the spirit of the resistance in this timeline.

(a little concept art doodle) (I like drawing snow :))

eventually he is hunted down and captured. And becomes a prisoner aboard the techno drome. A living trophy of the Kraang's victory over the planet. There he discovers Donnie has become the Technodrome.

It is customary for the Kraang to appoint the greatest mind of their most recent conquest as the new mind of the Technodrome. Slowly, he gets Donnie to remember who he is, Leo's twin, his brother, his family. They plot to escape togehter.

This meaning, Donnie is uploaded into Leo's Walkman. Like GladOs into the potato. Supercomputer put into silly tech is my favorite thing okay.

The ending... not very happy I am afraid. they make one last trip, when they decide to journey back home. After a long journey, they arrive at their original sewer home, Leo severely wounded stumbles into the ruins of the lair. Where they record one last song on the Walkman together, the last voices of the resistance.

welp! That's it :) there is a THIRD Au- but If I draw that my hand WILL fall off

Here-> Life is strange AU

(Please tell me if you would like to see more of this AU because I will give the internet strangers what they want, they live in my walls)

[kat-of-seventy-seven-roses]

Homestuck Mythical Creature au / Cryptid Au

Very tempted to make an ask blop :p need to see if anyones inch rested

thought processes under the cut (bc some choices are wild)

Johns a pooka, an irish fae trickster who shapeshifts into animals. his favorite form is the bunny. john and jane are both fae, so their pranks range from harmless to mentally scaring to life altering. absolute chaos grimlins. dirk is also an irish myth, so he knows them well and is often trying to get them to not ruin the local population of humans. so they do pranks on him insted. john loves to steal dirks head and hide it places.

rose speaks to the eldritch horrors and is slowly becoming one herself. she wants to become a litch.

Dave is a harpy! a very chill one who doesn't tend to sing with his full chest, so people dont start crashing into his doorstep. dave dies in some magic accident that caused davesprite to rise up from the ashes. but dave harpy is ALSO fine no ones really sure how. may have been roses doing.

Jade is a werewolf obv. but shes also a witch and has formed a coven with rose and roxy.

Jane is ur avrage fae faerie/sprite. her favorite fae rule to get people to break is "dont eat their food."

Roxy is both a cat who is also a wizard i need not elaborate

Dirk is a headless horseman. not to be confused with THE headless horse man. thats another dullhan with a well paying halloween gig. dirk is often subject to losing his head, so he made a magic pumpkin to pilot the body when this happens. he does have a very large and scary but beautiful horse.

Jake is the bigfoot. and one of the most well hunted (and well travled) cryptids. thus, his friends often make jokes of not ever seeing him except in blurry images. its not his fault hes very large and loves to travel! and is also not very photogenic...

Aradia is a monthra!!! however she made a deal with a devil and became a ghost... not sure WHY yet or why it kills her. but it does. its all in her plan or smth, but that doesnt stop sollux from being very upset that hes the one that has to take and keep her soul. she is reserected later by the coven, still soulless but it doesnt matter bc her soul is in good hands and thus she still feels it. shes much happier now.

Tavros is a minotar self explanatory he is a small minotar, tho. a mini minotar if u will.

Sollux is ur run of the mill soul for potato chip demon. an excuse to give him twin tails and horns. him an kitkat gave me the most trouble! but then i went with a solkat devil angel motifi and im kinda attached t9 it now. even if its sorta a cop out. i simply couldnt find twin creatures that werent gods or children of gods. nor any crab creatures...

Karkat is an angel. he WAS human notably he was human for awhile even good friends with kanaya before he died. he never found love but helped so many with theres that he became an angel that was a lot like cupid. thus he was a small angel incharge of match making and also likened to a baby and hes very much NOT happy about this. it pisses him off, solluxs often gives him a hard time. about it. (extra angst is that kitkats also really fucked up about never knowing what love felt like but having to give it to others. and he has it in his head that that means he never will know, bc no ones matchmaking the matchmaker. but theres a song he hears everyonece anwhile by a stray harpy that makes him feel a lot lighter.)

Nepeta is my go to cat creature a nekomata. a two tailed cat yokai.

Kanaya is a vampire. obviously.

Terezi is a dragon! still blind! still licks. but can now transform and has wings, very scary. shes basiclly just her lusus lmao.

Vriska is a spider lady. i have arachne here bc its similar, but shes not arachne the myth proper. shes just a spider with the top part of a woman at the head. A Jorogumo a spider lady yokai and is basically actually what im picturing.

Equius is a centar and fuck if i ever have to draw him....

Gamzee is a clowwwn, just a clown, just a silly lil guy. What do you MEAN clowns arnt mythical creatures??? what do u mean u saw him under ur bed when you were a child? u must be mistaken. as a nod to ICPs boogieman. when gamzee is not high as a kite and is just a clown, he is one of the most terrifying and unkillable creatures known to children kind.

Eridan is a selkie. basiclly a mermaid but part seal. personally, I'd like to make him part seahorse. but not in the hippocampus way. i chose this bc he can shapeshift, thus he pretends to be a high elf sorcerer, yes he does get dunked on about this.

And finally, Feferi is a siren! who happens to be able to become very VERY **VERY** BIG. she doesnt lure people to drown them but she DOES love to keep live captives in cages :)

[mybedroomceilingsbored]

hey y'all!

you can call me Mouse! i'm a nerdy, artsy-craftsy, music-loving, socially awkward, incredibly enthusiastic GEEK.

i love chatting with people and making new friends, always feel free to shoot me an ask/dm :)

about me

☼ she/her pronouns are great! ☼ i'm a minor ☼ lesbian (or something like that) ☼ i'm a dancer! (ballet, pointe, modern, jazz, tap, and hip-hop) ☼ i play the piano, flute, and ukulele, and i'm learning trumpet ☼ i love hugs and physical touch ☼ i use a ton of pet names-lmk what you're comfortable with! ☼ pisces sun/moon, scorpio rising ☼ infp-t 2w3 (explanations linked, if you're curious) ☼ one (1) beach completed, on my way to becoming an Official Certified Ken (credit: my very dear @green-binder) ☼ i tend to forget things-please don't take anything i do/don't do personally! chances are it just slipped my mind. ☼ i love interacting with people, but i do sometimes burn out. sometimes i just don't have the energy to reply to something or continue a conversation, please don't take it personally!

not rlly doing chain mail atm, sorry!

i've got a funky lil tma sideblog @consumedbywhatlovesme if you're interested, hyperfixation still going STRONG 💪

things i love...

☼ cavetown!! ☼ the magnus archives ☼ coraline ☼ hozier ☼ plants/gardening ☼ ancient greek mythology and culture ☼ microbiology ☼ slime molds! ☼ mushrooms and other fungi ☼ stranger things ☼ pjo ☼ cats! ☼ good omens ☼ baking ☼ crochet/knitting ☼ long bike rides ☼ sketching and painting ☼ rainy days

... and people i love!

@15millionfireflies, @bleep-bloop-boo, @brains-out-rn, @ch3rry-t0mat0, @currently-becoming-potatoes, @fairyycoffin,

@forever-bi-panic, @galaxys-universe, @green-binder, @hugallurfriends, @i-eat-so-much-grass,

@joespookyregardinghappenenings, @margaret-the-duck, @marisolebio, @mossy-stormcloud, @remithegayshoebill,

@sad-girl-shit11, @sagaofa-dying-star, @scatteredraysofhope, @small-giggle,

@that-dam-heartstopper-fan, @the-chaotic-snek, @theladyofpaintedstars, @thestrawberryapologist, @totheidiot,

@trans-lobotomy, @urlocalsadkid-l, @wistfulenchantress, @yelenapines

comfort books...

☼ a psalm for the wild built, a prayer for the crown-shy, coraline, the electric kingdom, the song of achilles, truly devious, a wrinkle in time, inward, heartstopper, the secret garden, severance, they

... movies, tv, and podcasts...

☼ coraline, the magnus archives, heartstopper, spirited away, stranger things, good omens, various concert films, over the garden wall

... and foods

☼ hot cocoa, peach tea, lemon cookies, asparagus, fresh sourdough, grapefruit, chocolate chip cookie dough, berries of any kind

currently listening to

favorite artists

☼ cavetown, hozier, lizzy mcalpine, luz, wallows, girl in red, taylor swift, mother mother, billie eilish, david kushner, madilyn mei, coin, tv girl, fuvk, gregory alan isakov, mxmtoon, boygenius (+ solo work), hayd, maya hawke, pomme, the paper kites, novo amor

songs i try to live by

☼ talk to you (cavetown) ☼ hug all ur friends (cavetown) ☼ carry you (novo amor) ☼ words (gregory alan isakov) ☼ pancakes for dinner (lizzy mcalpine) ☼ let light be light (lizzy mcalpine) ☼ cold (novo amor) ☼ crooked the road (mon rovia)

please send me music recs!! i usually listen to indie pop, indie folk, and indie rock/modern rock, but i'm always happy to listen to something new :)

moodboard by my darling @wistfulenchantress <33

congrats on making it all the way to the end haha!!

have a beautiful day/night sweetheart, love ya :)

(dividers by @/saradika-graphics, their stuff is absolutely gorgeous)

[darknebula85]

Okay, I know I said the next drawing I would do would be of Overdue, BUT that was before I knew Unbeatable existed. When I made the drawing of Demise, I hadn't been able to complete the mod yet because my PC is a potato and wouldn't load past halfway through All Stars. But with the update they released, I managed to beat the mod, and OH MY GOD! Unbeatable is so good, it's too addictive to listen to. Not only did it become my favorite song from the mod, but also one of my favorites from the game itself. One thing I really like about FNF is that it teaches me things I didn't know, like about Eddsworld, Madness Combat, the story of I AM GOD from 4chan (That's why I love Crunchin'), and a lot more. And in this case, I didn't know the original commercial that this song is based on. It's incredible how this mod partially revived the game's relevance AND CREATED a fandom around a song. I mean, they turned MR. Sys into a sexy man; it's so hilarious. I really liked this song, and the best part is I have many remixes to listen to them over and over and OVER AGAIN while I'm at work.

AL CHILE SÚBANLE VOLUMEN A ESA MADRE!!!

[wrenfxrever]

coraline au | not my au | radioapple

creds to @deadspaceguy for coming up with this! <3

The other papa leaped on the piano seat as he readied his hands, raising them up above the keys. Finally, he slammed them down, the notes ringing out around the house.

  “Making up a song about Charlie…she’s a peach, she’s a doll, she’s a pal of miiine…” Lucifer grinned, his grin almost resembling the other father’s.

  “She’s as cute as a button, in the eyes of everyone who ever laid their eyes on Char-a-lieee…”

Charlie’s mouth hung in awe, her eyes shining with amazement. She hadn’t seen Lucifer this joyful since his and Alastor’s wedding, which was many years ago. After their honeymoon Lucifer had always been busy with work. Not to mention, her papa couldn’t even play piano.

  All of the sudden two gloved hands sprung up from the piano, the violin matching the piano’s rhythm.

  “When she comes around exploring, me and dad will never make it boring, our eyes will be on Char-a-lie-”

  “I, uh…sorry, but Al told me to tell you that the food is ready…erm.”

Lucifer spun around, the smile from earlier still plastered across his face.

  “Mmm…who’s starving, raise your hand?” Lucifer lightly grabbed Charlie’s wrist, raising it into the air. Charlie giggled, a smile forming on her own lips.

  “Well we should give our thanks to your lovely father, who cooked us this delicious deer. You really didn’t have to go hunting today, Al.”

  “I know how much our little Charlotte loves roasted deer, mon ange…” Alastor directed his gaze to Charlie, who rolled her eyes at the nickname. Lucifer giggled, leaning across the table to kiss Alastor’s cheek. “Oh, hush up now…you know Char-Char hates that.” Alastor blushed and gripped his fork, ringing the bell across from him. Charlie’s smirk widened as she immediately grabbed a part of the venison, taking a healthy bite from the thickest part.

  “Mmm! This is really good!”

  Alastor laughed. “Hungry, are we?”

  “Yeah,” Charlie replied, scooping mashed potatoes onto her plate. “But do we have any gravy?”

Lucifer gave her a loving smile, tapping his fingers on the table while staring intently at her.

  “Well I’m glad you asked! Here comes the gravy train…choo choo!”

At that moment a train made its way around the table, stopping in front of Charlie to pour a generous amount of gravy onto her plate.

  “Another roll? Sweet peas? Corn on the cob?” Alastor questioned, growing closer to Charlie with each listing.

  “I’m, like, really thirsty,” Charlie responded, leaning back in her chair haphazardly.

  “Of course, dear!” Alastor shot back. “Any requests?”

Charlie thought for a moment. “Strawberry milkshake?” Vaggie had told her strawberry milkshakes were her favorite, causing her to blush a little. The chandelier above her lowered, the spout pouring out a lovely blush-pink mixture. Charlie gulped it down, savoring the sweet taste. It smelled just like Vaggie too, Charlie thought.

  Suddenly her papa set out a delicious-looking pink frosted cake in front of her, the hot pink words spelling out “Welcome home!”.

  Charlie’s smile disappeared as fast as it came.

  “H-home?”

Alastor got up behind Lucifer’s chair, rubbing his shoulders rhythmically.

  “We’ve been waiting for you, Char.” Lucifer smiled warmly, his big black buttons becoming very apparent to Charlie.

  “For…me?”

  “Yes! Isn’t quite the same here without you…Charlie.”

Charlie wrapped her arms around herself, feeling a little uneasy. “I didn’t know I had an other father.”

  “Of course you do, darling! Everyone does,” Alastor butt in, his eyes too, gleaming.

  “Really?”

  “Uh-huh! Now once you’re done eating, I thought we could play a game! You know how much papa loves games,” Lucifer spoke. He tapped his fingers faster on the table.

this is just part one !! stay tuned :)

[ephysalis]

My friend and I just finished our rewatch of Star Trek: TOS. What a fun, fun trip it was.

Purely for my own enjoyment, here are the 10 Star Trek: TOS episodes I liked the most. Heavily steeped in my love of retro cheese and B-Movies.

10. Arena

The Kirk vs A Lizard episode. The rocks are very obviously foam, the fight choreography is peak Trek and the lizardman wears a go-go dress lovingly crocheted by meemaw. At the end a bedazzled space twink shows up. A classic for a reason.

9. The Corbomite Maneuver

Structured like so many other Trek eps (ship gets in predicament, Kirk must pull a solution out of his ass in the 11th hour) but with great twist ending that blew my mind. Showcases Kirk's brand of cleverness very well.

8. Turnabout Intruder

The last episode of the series has a fascinating plot: one of Kirk's ex-girlfriends forcibly switches bodies with him. There's a lot of unfortunate gender discourse but if you decide to view the whole thing as a typically 60s trans allegory, it becomes fascinating. Spock recognizes the captain through a mind meld and defends him in court. Good times.

7. The Cloud Minders

The best episode of season 3 imo. Beautiful painted backgrounds and amazing retrofuturist interiors. The story is a really solid metaphor for classist oppression right until you learn the workers actually ARE violent and stupid because of some gas in the mines. Still loved it.

6. Operation: Annihilate!

The crew visits a planet decimated by alien parasites that look like flying rubber pancakes. Spock gets got and it's very tense and dramatic. Good Spirk vibes, plus I love it when my blorbos suffer.

5. The Way to Eden

The Enterprise picks up space hippies trying to find a fabled paradise planet. The costumes and songs are super enjoyable. A shining example of an ep that was probably extremely cringe back when it aired but has aged like a fine, campy wine.

4. The City on the Edge of Forever

Ok this one isn't underrated, everyone knows it's good and they're correct. Kirk and Spock get stuck in the past together and it manages to be incredibly gay despite Kirk literally dating a woman. Excellent story. Spock wears a beanie.

3. The Trouble with Tribbles

Another one where I agree with the general sentiment: it's silly and fun and I will never tire of seeing Shatner buried in furry little potatoes. The Animated Series episode "More Tribbles, More Troubles" is a hilarious sequel.

2. Amok Time

The Spirk episode that started it all, featuring a fascinating look into the mix of uptight decorum and violent heritage that makes Vulcan culture so compelling. I did particularly enjoy the extremely awkward conversation between Kirk and Spock about "Vulcan biology" at the beginning. "It happens to the birds and the bees..."

1. The Devil in the Dark

Shatner's favorite ep and also mine. The acting is on point and seeing Spock yell "JIM!" with obvious concern on his face is just 👌🏻. I love the retro cheesiness of the paper mache caverns and the alien who looks like a lasagna; I love how testy Bones is about having to do first aid on said lasagna; I love the horror-like story structure and overarching message about understanding others. 100/10.

[sinfullyrosey]

[Insert Clever Title]

There aren’t nearly enough fics focused on Yuu/MC/Reader being nonhuman and their interactions with the other human and nonhuman characters. I say that, and yet, I’ve barely written any myself. But I still wanted to contribute, so here are a few ideas I’ve come up with. Feel free to share your own or even use these as prompts. All I ask is to be informed so I can see.

 Lioness!Reader being the betrothed to Leona since they were little and having playdates. Reader loved to playfight with him and would always pin him (like Nala did to Simba). The relationship is basically just like Darek and Odette’s with the whole This is Not My Idea song up until they’re young adults. Leona is in denial of having fallen for you, but can’t help but admire how strong and beautiful you’ve become.

Mushroom Fae!Reader constantly feeling the looming presence of a certain eel follow them around, asking rather strange or invasive questions. It doesn’t help that you’re much shorter than most of the other students, so your legs can’t outrun the much taller student. Eventually, the two of you start to grow closer and the roles are reversed. Now you’re the one following him around and demanding attention due to his greenthumb towards fungi.

Rat/Cayote!Reader having a rivalry with Ruggie, as both grew up poor and had to scavenge for their meals. Reader often would swipe the last sandwich during lunch and Ruggie would pluck every edible plant before you could. However, after you fell ill and were bedridden, Ruggie, surprisingly, left you a bowl of soup, his grandma’s special recipe. After that the two of you become quite the nuisance duo.

((Warning: Gore Mention)) Sea Cucumber!Reader being squeezed by Floyd, only to accidently force them to spit up their organs and other innards, horrifying both him and every nearby student. Reader merely coughs and says they’re fine and can just grow them back, or they can just shovel the old ones back in. Floyd is super over the top gentle towards you after that.

Persian Cat!Reader being one of Vil’s favorite dormmates because of how much you love to be pampered. You’re the most well behaved and spoiled, constantly demanding Vil’s time and attention. You tend to annoy Epel and lose your temper when he picks fights with you, leading to Vil having to scold both of you.

Crow Harpy!Reader absolutely loving any and all things shiny and just swiping jewelry, silverware, and coins from anyone that’s not careful. You eventually taking a liking to Kalim, what with all this jewelry and sunshiny self. He’s more than happy to give you little trinkets and pieces of treasure, while you thank him by preening him affectionately. Eventually, you decide to show him your nest hoard and tell him he’s your greatest treasure.

Insect Fae!Reader terrorizing Jamil, because of course you would.

Orca!Reader terrorizing the Octatrio because killer whales are dicks of the sea and will literally torment their prey for the hell of it and those three need to be taught some manners. Or, alternatively, you work at the Lounge as a bouncer and terrorize everyone else. Either way, somebody is gonna end up your own personal beach ball to throw around.

Just straight up an Eldritch Horror!Reader that takes on the form of an average, unassuming human. Pretends to be normal and weak to not draw attention to yourself, but eventually it slips out here and there the more comfortable you get towards everyone. Your favorite form of affection is when you just unhinge your entire jaw and gently bite down on someone’s head like some extremely weird form of a kiss. Vil especially hates it because how dare you ruin his makeup and hair you interdimensional potato??? ADeuce are the first to learn of your true form and are used to whatever weird, new thing they witness you doing now. Malleus and Lilia are fascinated if anything, if not a bit curious to know if you could actually take either of them on. You also have full on hurled Rook across the track field at least once since he learned of your true form (he provoked you so it’s deserved).

[soullesscoyote]

I was gonna wait to show off the four but I need to share two bc I have to wait 6 hours to finish the last one Malevolent duo lackadiasy style

Also ALSO ALSo PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE CHECK OUT THE PODCAST ITS SO SO GOOD I BEG OF YOU

I learned there was like people who did interpretations of characters and made me wanna give it a try as someone who doesn't visualize people but does animals

(You guys should check out @potato-lord-but-not )

These are the NOTES BELOW

Arthurs pianist background made me inclined to throw music symbols on him. And a yellowish tabby because of similar colors to John

So quarter rest torn ear,

base clef curve on the other.

Loose eighth note eyebrows

Loose 16th note rests on the cheeks.

Faroes song is in D major/B Minor so I colored his fingers according to its chord minus 2 keys. And the pinky he bites off completes it in the dream lands! Except it doesn't cut off at the same spot as the others so if you looked close you could see something off

Scar on the eye is kinda like a shining light

His eyes are the only ones that have the whites visible, so they're visually different from everyone else.

--

John I wanted a smilodon look so if Arthur is your average tabby cat John is akin to a slightly similar feline that's existed long before them.

Having forgotten who he was at first he's mostly in the dark cloak but the bottom of it yellow as though it's the yellow that's faded as hes gained his own identity.

(This was my favorite) John being Arthur's eyes I thought a cool and otherworldly quality would be he doesn't have eyes on his own form. But instead moth wings that look like pseudo eyes covering where his eyes used to be. The left wing torn to match Arthur. (Moths being creatures that live in the dark and seek out light similar to John who doesn't like the dark)

I wanted a very stylized light and shadow behind and at johns feel both bc this isnt a "physical" form per say but the light and dark being similar to the fading yellow at the bottom of his cloak as though hes becoming his own person.

There is light peaking out of his cloak because I imagine symbolically John wants to be a human and if light is his embracing of being human it ties into the whole he's trying to be a better version of himself which he should've been a long time ago. In my head it formed a kinda duality

I have no clue what the human equivalents would be to these they are just creature in my head

Edit: the whole quartet is here!

[avidfics]

Getting Closer to Sevika

A/N: Hi, usually I write about Vi, but Sevika has had me in a chokehold, so I had to give her some spotlight. Hope you like it.

Summary: You're finally getting one-on-one time with your grouchy superior, Sevika. She acts cold towards you in group settings, but today you will make her admit her feelings for you.

Pairing: Sevika x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Not much. Fluff, some touching, teasing

WC: 3k (no clue how that happened)

Sunshine filled the sky. Well, technically, that was a lie. The sun wasn’t shining at all-the sky looked like it could rain at any minute. However, the gloomy weather could not dampen your anticipation because, for the first time, Sevika was aiding you on a task assigned by Silco. 

You bounce a bit in the driver’s seat of the truck as you wait for her to arrive. It wasn’t every day Sevika willingly went on an errand with you, not for your lack of trying. She had this uncanny habit of ignoring you, which she did when she was in a good mood. In a bad mood, she physically removed you from her sight. 

Was it lame that you craved those moments when she got up in your personal space while silently making the promise of bodily harm?

Just last week when you, Sevika, and the rest of the group were hanging out at the bar. Apparently, you were too chatty for Sevika’s liking because, in a blink of an eye, the brut kicked your legs right from under you. Your body hit the floor like a sack of potatoes - your head felt the brunt of the impact as you blacked out. However, when you woke up, your aching body was laid across the couch in her office. Her signature dark cape was thrown over your body. 

All of this could only mean one thing; She secretly, unbeknownst to herself, cared for you. Either that or you were severely delusional. 

Maybe it was both…

So consumed by thoughts of the burly woman you flinched hard at the sharp knock against the driver’s window.

Whipping your head, you swear your favorite romantic song begins playing on the radio, and whimsical flowers appear, framing her face. 

Your breathing becomes shallow as you take in her deep navy vest, tightly wrapped around her chest. Not to mention, good lord, the vest was sleeveless. This was not a drill. Sevika’s sculpted arms were out and making you want to jump her freaking bones. Somehow you manage to drag your wondering lecherous eyes up to her hardened face.

A dopey smile beams across your face as you roll down the window with haste. “Your chariot awaits.”

“Get your ass in the passenger seat.” 

Sevika’s grumpy salutations doesn’t damper your mood. It’s one of her many traits you find charming. It made digging past her tough exterior so much fun. 

Your fingers do a little tap against the steering wheel. “Can’t. While I’ll literally do anything for you, I’m a horrible passenger. I get too hyper and can’t stay still for shit.” 

In a flash, her metal arm passes through the open window and nearly yanks you clean through. Her beautifully scarred face scowls so close her breath fans across your face. “Call me Sev again, and your hands will be too broken to drive, permanently. Now get your hyper-ass out of my seat.”

Her tone, hard and demanding, is like a sirens’ call to your ears, making you docile and languid for anything Sev demands. Her very undivided attention to you makes the day already worthwhile. 

Your eyes shine up at her. “Yes, ma’am,” you purr. There must’ve been a few screws loose in your head to hit on Sevika when she was already peeved, but she was always pissed. If you wanted to make any progress with your team leader today, you had to take initiative.   

The metal hand clinching the collar of your shirt tightens, probably debating whether to drag you through the window. 

For a moment, her eyes heat, and her nostrils flare before shaking her head. With a hard shove, she lets you go. Huffing in annoyance and rolling her eyes.

Trying not to let your self-satisfied smile show, you scoot on your hands and knees over to the passenger seat. Your ass in perfect view for your sexy team leader. 

Sevika mutters, “Fucking brat,” as she opens the door and climbs in. Handling your truck as if she owns it.

I wonder if today’s trip will be fun banter or a boring lecture. You wonder as Sevika reves up the engine and takes off. 

“Your ass is dragging the rest of the team through the mud. If you fought as well as you talked, I wouldn’t have to kick your ass every week in training,” she starts.

Boring lecture it was. You settle in, getting yourself comfy to listen to Sevika’s infamous rants. Not that you minded. After all, now you had time to salivate as you admired your superior next to you. Usually, you had to compete for her attention among others, and she made it difficult. And when you did have her attention, she went out of her way to act like she couldn’t stand you. 

But something about her behavior felt off. Like it was all an act. During training, she did everything possible to make you quit; however, during any fight with local thugs, she glued herself to your side, laying waste to anyone who dared lay a hand on you. Something about this wasn’t adding up, and you were determined to sniff it out. 

You let out a blissful sigh and close your eyes. Sev’s open window blows her scent your way. A mixture of her natural musk and oil, the latter probably thanks to her tinkering with her mechanical arm. Unconsciously, your body slides across the bucket seat, gravitating to the smell. 

“Wipe that stupid look off your face. Did you hear anything I just said?” she asks. Her brows furrow but the irritation doesn’t reach her eyes. Instead, that same heat from when she was outside has returned. Your apparent interest in her wasn’t lost on her, but that damn restraint held her back. You couldn’t fathom the reason why. It was a pot with a lid, and soon, it would bubble over. 

Of course, a little teasing was never a bad thing.

“Sevika, as always, I live for these dull rants.” There, the corner of her lip twitched. Swiping away at rapid speed. “It’s the same thing you always say. ‘Y/N, you’re a go-getter, focused, and I can’t stay away from you.”

 You adjust in your seat. The night before, in preparation for today’s drive, you shaved your legs and decided to wear an unpractically short skirt. You glance to the side to make sure she’s watching. An electric shiver zips through your body when, out of the corner of your eyes, you notice her lingering eyes on your smooth legs. Taking a chance, you propped them up against the dashboard. Legs crossed, you playfully guide them against each other, enjoying how they glided. But the heat of Sevika’s eyes increased how sensitive your body felt - and she hadn’t laid a finger on you. Only Sevika had the power to turn you on with just a stare.

Under her breath, she whispers, “I need a fucking smoke.” With relentless movements, she starts searching through her pockets. “You’re a slacker, always distracted, and a pain in my fucking ass. Whenever you enter a room, I’m half tempted to duct tape your lips shut.” As she ranted, you noticed how anxious she was searching through her pockets - still searching for a flame to light her cigarette. 

Well, you had a lighter… 

 While she’s searching, you start dragging your hands up and down your bare legs that are still crossed against the dash. Your balmy palms circle your bended knees a few times and creep up to the hem of your skirt. Sevika’s voice trails off as inch by inch you tease your skirt up.

“... if it were up to me, your bratty tail would be out of here, unable to clean the blood off our blades.” Sevika clears her throat. 

The heat in the truck rises by several notches. Her attention on your hands as they drag your skirt dangerously up your thigh felt like actual pressure against your sensitive body. It made you feel more alive than any fight ever could. Every inch of skin you revealed sent a lick of heat to your core. 

Her metal grip on the steering wheel tightens significantly. With each inch of your rising skirt, a new squeaky crunch comes from your poor steering wheel.

Sevika can only take so much of being teased until she totally forgoes hunting through her pockets. The truck lurches to a stop in the middle of the street. Her callused hand snakes out to stop you from revealing the plump skin of your upper thigh.

“Are you out of your fucking mind?” Sevika’s eyes flare in question. She looked a bit strained as if tuned on yet incredulous at your audacity. 

“What?” You give an innocent grin. For a second, your blinding smile causes her hard stare to soften, but once again, she shakes it away, and a furious snarl returns. 

Somehow, she allows you to use your free hand to cover hers, and cautiously you guide her rough hand under the edge of your skirt. For the first time, Sevika couldn’t hide from you. From this close, you saw the rapid rise and fall of her chest. Even the pulse at the base of her neck was visible. 

The feel of her hand against your soft skin made you want to toss your head back in relief, unfortunately, the game had to finally come to an end as you guided her hand to the black garter attached to your upper thigh.

Sevika arches her eyebrow in confusion. In response, you open one of its pouches and reveal a sleek, silver lighter. Holding it between both of you, the fire shoots out and slowly settles. 

“Lighter?” 

Without waiting for a response, you light her cigarette. The lite cig lays unpuffed between her lips. Probably deciding whether to throw you out your own car or give in to the heat that’s been simmering between you two. You decided to quicken her decision by taking the cig from her lips, taking a puff, and blowing the smoke up in her face. 

That did it.

Her metal arm clutches your jaw. One eyebrow arched and head held high as if saying your punishment was still very much an option. Her thumb rubs against your bottom while taking her cig back. She takes a hit and blows it back in your face while holding your face still so you can’t move away. Hard, embarrassing coughs rack inside your chest.

A hard smile creeps along her as well as begrudged admiration, while still rubbing your bottom lip back and forth. The two of you stare at each other like a pair of pent-up rivalries. It lasts long enough for a car behind to honk.

Sevika's eyes drag down your body before continuing to drive, but not before giving the car behind a long hard stare. The poor sucker better hope she didn’t memorize his license plate. 

A giddiness plays around your heart at the tiny possibility of Sevika being upset the two of you were interrupted. It just reinforced the necessity of today. There was no way you would leave this truck before getting a confession out of Sev. But how?

Just as you come to a resolution, Sevika pulls into a dark alley. The two of you had already arrived at the warehouse where you were meeting some of Finn’s goons about a shipment. 

In preparation, Sevika starts replacing some of the vials of shimmer for her arm. The last one sat on her knee. 

I better not get myself killed. That was your last thought before you snatched the vials away and popped it into your bra. 

With a dismissive attitude, she continues to inspect her metal arm; however, you know you hold her full attention. “What are you playing at, princess?” The nickname itself almost made you want to roll over and show your stomach, but you had to remain strong. 

“You’ll get this back after you answer my question honestly.”

That damn smirk returns. “Or the second option, I come across the seat, teach you a much-needed lesson and worry about replacing the shimmer later.” She waits for you to give in, and when you remain stoic, she huffs in defeat and throws her arm behind you on the seat. “You got less than a minute.” 

Tucking your legs under your tush, you turn all the way to face her while twirling the vial between your fingers. “From day one, you’ve made your dislike of me painfully obvious.-”

“You think you’re special enough to be disliked?”

“- Sooo I’ve done everything I could to be better in your eyes, and I’ve gotten hella better. So why do you still treat me with a five feet pole?”

There, you had laid it all your insecurities in hopes that Sevika would genuinely answer. Her eyes stare up at the truck’s ceiling, contemplating whether to give into this conversation or simply forcefully take the shimmer from your hold and punish you for insubordination. 

Taking one more chance, you trail fingers along her arm. The shiver that visibly shakes her body is unexpected from both of you. Her shock must be what sways her decision because she leans over just enough to wrap an arm around your waist, dragging you flush against her side. The sudden closeness makes your breath halt, and your body becomes rigid. Sure, you often talked big but never had you imagined you’d be pressed so intimately against Sevika.

“I’ll never want you on my team, no matter how many hours of training you put in. Since Silco bought you to my team, princess, I knew you didn’t belong here. This shimmer filth has a way of contaminating everything and everyone it touches.” her eyes slightly trail off.

“You could’ve just ignored me.”

Sevika throws her head back and lets out a short laugh. “Ignore you?” Her prosthetic hand raises up and pushes your hair away with a gentleness you don’t expect. Before she can pull away, you trap her hand to keep it cradling your face. 

Surprise flashes across her face. The most action her metal arm receives involves blood and bone, not tender caresses. “You make it impossible to be ignored. Your voice, laughs, and these fucking impractical skirts.” The hand against your moves to the back of your head, and like a switch, it clutches the hair at the back of your head, roughly pulling your head to the side and bringing her face into the nook of your neck. “Damn, even your smell stays lodged into my brain.” Her nose trails up and down your neck, raising a trail of goosebumps in her wake.

Your overconfidence finally crumbles as you whimper slightly. There’s no concealing the slight shake of your hands as you grasp her biceps for support. “So you’re trying to protect me? Does that mean you don’t find me annoying?” 

Sevika’s breath hits your neck as she scoffs. “Nah, you’re annoying as hell. But I also didn’t want you involved in this shimmer shit. Thought if I were mean enough, you would want to leave.” 

Now it’s your turn to laugh. “I just thought it was your version of foreplay. If you haven’t noticed, I can be a little stubborn.” 

“Stubborn is an understate if I’ve ever heard one.”

“And you can’t push me away just to protect me.”

A slight smile breaks over her face. She pats her thigh, beckoning you over. It was a request but felt like a command. You don’t bother to hide your smile as you awkwardly maneuver yourself over her thick thighs, slightly hovering. Not that Sevika puts up with your awkwardness for long as her rough hands grasp the sides of your waist. Her tight hold pushes you closer to her chest, leaving your core hyper-aware of every inch of friction. 

The foreign feel of being in Sevika’s embrace makes you breathless. Your back just naturally arches in response to her heavy hands gripping your waist. For the first time Sevika was realizing what you already knew, your body was insanely sensitive to her touch..

Arrogance curves along her lips as she casually drags the tips of her finger up and down your spine.

“Princess, you’ve been real demanding today. Perhaps a lesson in submission is needed?” Her hands ghost over your body, making you desperate for contact against your skin. They finally possessively land against your ribs, moving up to the side of your breasts. Your breath hangs on her every movement. 

“Don’t you think I’ve had enough lessons from you?” Your words waver as her head lowers down to your chest. Daring dark eyes challenge you as she leaves open-mouth kisses along the heaps of your chest. Meek moans almost escape as she leaves each kiss. Your fingers twitch with the need to move through her hair. 

When her thumbs finally skim over your nipples, the relief is a mini-explosion, throwing your head back. Her touch is gentler than you would’ve expected but not tentative. Expert hands plays with you and pushes the collar of your shirt down. One sensual kiss after another presses against your chest, except the last one, doesn’t land. 

An unexpected movement from your bra has you looking down. Between Sevika’s lips is the purple vial of shimmer you had hidden earlier. 

Your shock is more than apparent. 

“Don’t pout, princess. How about making a deal? Try not to annoy the shit out of me when we go in there, and we’ll finish where we left off.” 

Pretending to think about it, you cross your arms under your chest. Your chest heats when Sevika’s eyes blatantly devour your pushed-up boobs. For a second, you think you have the upper hand, but it’s short-lived. Cold hands grasp your upper thighs under your skirt, kneading your skin. 

A deep ache throbs from your pussy but you attempt to stay focus even as your eyelids lower. “I have a condition.” To respond her heavy hands press higher between your thighs. A self-satisfied look passes through her eyes, testing you. 

“I want to call you Sev.”

Deeper press. “Not on your life.”

“In private.” 

Her metal hand moves to cup the base of your neck, flexing around your throat, then slide to the back of your head. Bringing your face closer to hers, lips skimming yours. “Fine, now stop talking.” She commands before shutting you up with a heavy kiss. 

[netherfeildren]

FEAR OF GOD : Chapter III : Your bitter heart, heals my heart

Series Masterlist ; Moodboard

Pairing: Joel Miller x OFC

Summary: The damp dew of morning, as dawn broke across the sky the next day, had taken on a biting frigidness, and with it everything was different.

A/N: Let’s play spot the Fiona Apple reference 😁

I’d planned to wait until Sunday to post, but I just couldn’t help myself. I love this chapter a lot. I hope you guys do too. The song Good Guy by Julia Jacklin fits it quite nicely, I think.

Art is Rotting Plums by Rachel Bess.

Rating: Explicit 18+

Content Warnings: character death; brief, non-graphic descriptions of illness; discussions of grief; internal angst; rough sex; choking; brief impact play; after care; soft! Joel™️

Word Count: 6.4k

Read on AO3

CHAPTER III : Your bitter heart, heals my heart

Something in my soul was rising, rising, ceaselessly, painfully, and refused to be still.

-Fyodor Dostoyevsky, Notes from Underground

The mystery of Teddy continued and his health worsened. There were no objective indices of a malignant source to explain his symptoms, and yet, nevertheless, they persisted, intensified. The boy was fatigued, withdrawn, sensitive, losing weight, prone to bouts of what could be characterized as a cold or flu. You and Connie suspected the worst, but there was not much to be done to prove your theories without imaging or blood tests, not readily available to you. The best you could do was manage the child’s state symptomatically, and hope for the best until a more concrete plan was assembled. 

-

One night in late October, you and Connie decide to bid farewell to the passing fall with a consolation dinner. The months of Teddy’s ongoing illness had fallen harshly on both of your shoulders and spirits were low. The air outside had taken on the true chill of deep fall, the threat of winter near. You were worried the cold would bring tragedy with it. The child’s constitution was weak and despite good shelter and food and the two of you caring for him, winter was harsh and difficult to endure, even at one’s strongest.

Joel had gone on a good hunt earlier that day and had brought back a nicely sized rabbit. He’d refused to join you and Connie for dinner. Withdrawn and sullen throughout the day, he’d told you to enjoy your evening with a soft kiss pressed to your mouth, before he’d wandered off. You could picture him now, sitting on his porch, guitar in hand, drink at his side, brooding at whatever was plaguing him. The image chafed. His inability, or lack of desire, to tell you what was wrong hurt. 

You and Connie talked shop over your rabbit and greens, roasted potatoes in garlic and sage, and the braised plums Dina had brought you a few days before. It was a lovely meal, a veritable feast, lit by the warm candle light of the beeswax sticks Maria had traded with you. He told you about his wife, stories you’d heard dozens of times, that he never tired of repeating and you never stopped wanting to listen to. Stories of his training, the toils of residency, the great accomplishments of fellowship. Your favorite ones were of when he was younger, in his twenties, young and fresh and ravenous to learn everything he could. Eager for freedom and experience and knowledge. To hear of his life was to know him, and you loved nothing more than learning about the man who had become your greatest mentor and friend.

Connie died in his sleep that night. After you’d finished the last of the scavenged wine, he laughingly said he’d had it for years, and had been saving it for a special occasion – that now felt as good a time as any – like he knew this would be the last chance. He’d said good night to you, gone upstairs to bed and passed away peacefully. The damp dew of morning as dawn broke across the sky the next day had taken on a biting frigidness, and with it everything was different, would forevermore be different. For how could anything continue to exist as it had when the man who had given you a vocation, who had shared with you the greatest gift in his arsenal, his knowledge, was gone. It was a devastating blow for you, for the whole of Jackson. Beth and your parents took up space in your mind constantly in the days that followed, the memory of them a heavier weight than you usually carried. Their lives and their deaths, a constant loop of replay behind your eyelids at night, in your dreams. But you trudged on. Tried in vain to smother your grief as best you could. Hide it from Joel and Maria and Ellie and all your considerably disconcerted patients. 

The weight of the wellbeing of an entire community, that you dearly cared for, now rested on your shoulders, and the responsibility was a formidable and daunting one. Sometimes, you wished you had it in you to rid yourself of the whole thing. To wash your hands of it. Too gripped by the terror of failure and inadequacy to hold on to your courage. Your fears called forth Connie’s past words, how you’d not chosen this for yourself, would not have chosen it if you’d been given another option. But those moments passed eventually, and you did what you must, what was necessary. However great the burden of responsibility felt on your shoulders, you had no choice but to bear them as you may. Choices, always choices; more than conviction of character, more than desires, or hopes, the choices you made were what determined who you were. 

And then there was Joel. Joel who understood this grief of a lost loved one better than anyone else, who understood you better than anyone else. He’d taken your despair in stride, planted his feet in the ground and said to you with every action, every comforting embrace, every night where you cried yourself to sleep in his arms, in his bed, when you sought out the distraction of his mouth and his hands and his cock, with all of it he told you: here I am, use me as you will. Let me help you carry this burden of grief and responsibility, and if you cannot carry it at all, then I will carry you. And he did, with everything he did, he eased your pain. It was like he could read your mind, your heart, as if he’d studied that intrinsic understanding that had always existed between you and Connie under a magnifying glass and applied himself to taking it on himself, doing the same. 

You loved him so much in that time of painful grief after Connie – felt the weight of it so poignantly within your heart, it was like a second presence you carried inside your body now, a second soul. His fist wrapped tightly around your heart, your very life blood held in his hands – his to wield as he chose. It was a terrifying, maddening ordeal, that of losing everything you were to a man. Of giving it to him. And yet, you saw your life in the strangest new light now. What did it matter if the world was vast and cruel and terrifying, if you had him? Very little, it mattered very little. 

-

“Birdie.”

You’d been hunched over your desk for the better part of the afternoon. Late into the evening now, and you were still at it, only a small desk lamp illuminating the strewn catastrophe of papers and books in a wash of warm light. Your eyes stung, your back aching and strained. You couldn’t remember the last thing you’d eaten. “You’re back…”

“How’d it go today? How long’ve you been in here, baby?” You knew that stern tone. You listen to him set down something heavy on the table by the door but don’t turn, too caught up in what you’re currently reading.

“Teddy’s bad again…” you murmur, “There’s – I – I can’t figure this out. It’s driving me insane. If – if I knew more or – or had more equipment…” you trail off. “It’s bad… This is impossible with so little at my disposal.” Your hands clutch your hair, hunched over one of Connie’s old journals, one you’ve read probably a hundred times. “Something’s fucking wrong…” you mumble under your breath. He was weaker and weaker every day. The bruising you’d first noticed a few weeks ago appeared more often, and you had a pretty good idea as to what it was that was wrong with him, but you were terrified of sharing your fears with his mother. Of being wrong. You told yourself you couldn’t be certain without proper testing. That until you’d found something beyond textual evidence to support your theories, that you should keep your conjectures to yourself. After all, if you were right, there was nothing to be done, but keep him comfortable. You told yourself that to hold off was the right thing to do, but you weren’t sure. Had never been in this position before. And alone, with only yourself to count on, with no one to consult with who had experience in something like this, there was only your gut to follow. It was Joel, who’d ultimately soothed your anxieties. He’d said that if it was him, if it was Sarah in this position, the threat of an incurable cancer plaguing her and no sort of cure or treatment closely available, then he’d not want to know the truth of it. The closest FEDRA outhold was hundreds of miles away, and Teddy would never survive the journey – not with the cold of winter starting to set in, he was too weak, too fragile, being eaten alive from the inside out. You felt so fucking useless, so desperate and hopeless, and you didn’t know what to do besides make him comfortable, try and be there for Susanna as best you could. And she knew, she knew something was interminably wrong with her child. She knew you were at a loss, beyond your depth of resources. You could see the understanding and resignation start to settle in her eyes as the days passed. 

“C’mere, Birdie. Come look at this.”

You’re still murmuring to yourself, lost in thought, but you turn to him suddenly, and the look on your face – you feel so young, so lost – “If Connie was here it’d be better–” you say. And you feel so angry at your father suddenly. This is all his fault. He cast you into this role before you’d been old enough to have the sense of foresight to understand all that would come with it. Angry at Connie, for furthering it, for dying, for leaving you alone. Your eyes fill with tears, and he comes over to you, cradles your upturned face in his palms, your fingers twisting in his clothes. “Joel–”

“I found something for you – come see.” He says it so gently, pulls you from the chair, strong hand cupped around the bend of your elbow. Your legs feel as shaky and weak as a newborn fawns, and your vision swoops, dark stars appearing behind your closed eyes. “Head rush,” you whisper. 

“Damnit, Birdie. When was the last time you ate somethin’?” You clutch at his arms tightly as you feel your balance stabilize. 

“I– it’s okay… I’m okay.” 

You turn towards the table then, and sitting on it is a microscope. You turn to look at him, wide eyed, your threat of tears from before immediately becoming reality. “Where did you find that?” 

“There’s a house about five hours west. Me ‘nd Tommy decided to check it out. Someone had a whole damn laboratory in the basement.” There’s a small duffle sitting next to the machine. “Don’t know if it’ll work, if it’s any good to you, or– or if you even want it… I brought all the other stuff I thought went with it–” he unzips the bag, peers inside. “Not sure it’s what you need… if it’s any good. But I thought–” He’s ranting, tongue tripping over his own words, and there’s a fierce blush washing over his cheeks. “I just–” he sighs, “I just saw it and thought of you. Thought it might be something you’d like or find interesting… Something to distract you.” And he’s so endearing and so sweet and so understanding and you’re pressing yourself to him, tears spilling. His breath whooshes out in a small huff with the force of your chest thumping against his, your arms sneaking around his neck like vines, feet scrabbling against the floor, stepping on the toes of his boots to boost yourself up higher, press harder. Your heart, your heart, it hurts, it pinches and burns, and oh, you love him.

He is undoing you.  

His hand weaves through the long threads of your loose hair, presses your streaming eyes and hot face to his neck. You mouth messily at the skin of his neck, too overwrought for words. Trying to convey everything you’re feeling in this moment into his skin through the press of your own. And you know, with the gentleness of his hands over your hair, your face, your back and waist, that he knows, he understands.

“I knew you needed something – hoped this could help in some way.”

Thank you, thank you, thank you, you breathe into his neck. 

This small action, him going out on patrol and bringing back something for you, seeing something that reminded him of you and hauling it all the way back here, just to make you happy, just because he thought it might entertain you – it’s everything. To know that he knows how much this would mean to you, how much this would help you, how much you needed this – it tells you more about the state of the two of you now, in this moment, than anything else that has transpired before. 

You hug yourself closer to him, wet face soaking his shirt and he just holds you, let’s you bask in him. And his tallness and warmth and aliveness — it makes you forget that cowering animal you’d felt like these past few days. He brings back to life your own warmth, your own aliveness, pulls out of you the desire to share it with him. It’s like a damn breaking, a rush of despair and love and grief so overwhelming it punches the air out of you. 

Gasp escaping in a loud, breathless sob,“I’m alone, I’m alone now,” you press your hot eyes into the space beneath his jaw, “I don’t have anyone anymore. Connie, Connie – I – I don’t – don’t know h– how–” It’s uncontrollable, breath hitching and hiccuping. Somewhere in the rational recess of your mind you know you shouldn’t be telling him all this. That maybe he doesn’t want to hear it, or maybe even more unlikely, that it’ll hurt him to hear you claim this aloneness. That being without Connie now was almost like being without Beth – out there, in the wilderness, alone and desperate; that facing the responsibility he’d left you with felt like that vast wilderness from before. That without him you felt so, so lost. Your anchor to this world, your guiding light, your friend, your teacher was gone; and even with Joel physically beside you, the encroaching sense of familiar loneliness was overwhelming. You couldn’t help it. Couldn’t swallow this hurt. It was too heavy to be repressed. 

You pull back to take in his face and he splays his hand over your cheek, gently brushes away the wet under your eye, your bottom lip, the delicate wing of your cheekbone – his eyes: concerned and grave and slightly lost – like you’re breaking his heart, like he’d do anything in this moment to bear your pain for you. You look at him and think of all the times he’s pushed you away, held you at arms length, refused to let you in. The small hurts and the pinch of your heart in the space where you hold him inside of you, your recurring thought that: I know none of this will matter in the long run — but while we’re here — I want you to love me. 

But with this, with this, he was showing you. He was telling you with his actions, with his pain and concern for you: I know of the things you need, of the things you want, and I’ll try and give them to you the best I can. I’ll try and take care of you the best I can. This is me trying; this is me telling you, I love you. 

“You’re not alone. I’m here, Birdie. I’m gonna take care of you. I promise.”

You push your face into his large, warm palm, nuzzle the rough skin, and you wonder what will become of you if you cannot be close to him anymore — if he were to one day take himself away from you. Because you know that’s the only way this would ever have a chance of ending, if he were to decide to leave, to go away some place he’d not allow you to follow. Nothing else would ever rip you from his side. 

“Thank you,” you whisper into his palm, press a small kiss to the center of it. 

“Hell, baby. If I knew the damn thing’d pull this reaction out of you I’d have left it where I found it.” You laugh a watery little laugh. And you think that it really does feel like the world’s ending, a terrible thing, when you feel the love you have for someone settle within you, when you realize the depth of it. 

You press up high on your toes, seeking out his mouth, a kind of frantic buzz filling your limbs as you reach for him. You twine your arms around his neck and your fingers into his hair. He understands you and he’s here and he’s going to take care of you and you love him so much. None of the things that had been plaguing your mind these past few weeks, none of the anxieties matter in this moment. Just the feel of his warm skin, his rough hands passing over your clothes and then gripping, twisting in the back of your shirt to press you up higher. He peppers open mouth kisses to your cheeks, your jaw, sucks on your neck sharply. “What do you need, Birdie? Tell me what you need, and I’ll give it to you.”

You can’t think, can’t put into words this frenzied desperation you’re feeling. All you can do is claw harder at his clothes and hair, try to climb the length of his body, get as close as you possibly can. You let out a high little whine, and he winds his fingers through your hair, grips tight and gives a sharp tug. “Need me to be the only thing in that pretty head right now? Huh?” He jerks your head back sharply, exposing the vulnerable column of your throat. His teeth latch onto the delicate line of muscle there, and you’re sure he can feel the rapid fluttering of your pulse against his tongue, a staccato of morse code telling him all your secrets, can taste the distressed need seeping out of your pores. You try and hitch your knee around his hip, grind your aching cunt into him. You can feel your arousal seeping into the gusset of your panties, and you claw at his back to try and find purchase, to rock yourself harder into him. His mouth moves down to the soft junction of your shoulder, and his bite there is harsher, claiming. You’ll have a red blossom of a bruise there tomorrow you’re sure. “So fucking desperate for me, baby.”

His words make something satisfied coil low in your belly. Yes, yes, you moan. You’re glad he knows. You want him to feel how much you need him, how much you want him. You want your desperation to incite his own. You want, need, him to need you as much as you do. He’s clutching your ass then, fingers squeezing your flesh tightly and hoisting you up into his arms. You wrap your legs around his waist, lick into his mouth as he walks the two of you towards the sofa against the wall. 

He lets your feet drop to the ground and sits heavily on the couch, knees spread wide and he’s ripping your leggings down your thighs without preamble, clasping the bend of your knee to slip your shoe off and pull the fabric of your pants and underwear off one foot. He pulls you onto his lap then, and you’re clawing at his belt, pulling his already hard cock free of the confines of his clothes. It’s late into the evening now, but anyone could walk in at any moment. Nancy had gone out earlier, but she could come back, come looking for you. None of that matters right now. All you can think about is getting him inside of you now, now now. He grips the back of your thigh to spread you wider across his lap and fists the base of his cock, jacks it once, twice.  The tip is gleaming with precum and flushed so red it’s almost purple – your mouth waters at the sight of it. He hasn’t even touched your pussy yet, but you can feel how soaked you are. Your sex tight and aching, and you wrap your own hand around him, pressing up a little higher on your knees to position him at your entrance, and then you’re sinking down, down and you both let out twin ragged groans of relief as you take him inside of you, watching the place where he disappears inside. It’s too much, painful, without having him make you come before, and exactly what you need. His eyes on yours are wide, as if he’s shocked. As if, even after all the times the two of you have done this, he still can’t believe it can feel like this. His neck is flushed red, you can see the hammering of his pulse in the thick vein of his neck, and it makes the walls of your cunt flutter in response. You’re going to come already, just with this. Just at the feel of taking him within you, your orgasm is there. You start to throb and pulse around him and your womb clenches and twists tight like a cramp. “Jesus fucking christ,” he grits out through clenched teeth, large palms gripping your ass to start to move you. And you’re orgasming fully now, cunt clamping down hard around his throbbing length. “Shit, shit–” you bury your face in his neck, tears, a slow, uncontrollable stream from your eyes at the intensity of it, “you’re coming already – Christ– you’re coming already.”

He starts to thrust his hips up into you, the blunt head hitting deep at the mouth of your cervix. “Good girl – good, fucking take it.” All you can do is moan and sob into his neck. Nothing will ever feel like this. Nothing else in your whole life will ever be as good as this is. He’s subjugated you with the feel of his cock pounding inside of you, and if you weren’t in love with him, you’d probably resent him for it. For having such a hold over you. No one person should have this much power over another. You yank on his hair hard. There is a fist around your heart in the shape of him, and it fucking hurts, and you want more and less, all at the same time. 

“Harder, please, harder,” you whisper into his ear, let it slide through him, over him. And then he’s flipping you over, your entire weight cradled briefly in his arms as he presses your back into the cushions, and spreads your knees wide, one hooked over the back of the couch, and the other held open by his hand. “You want it harder, little bird? Want me to wreck this cunt?”

“Want it to hurt. Make it hurt, Joel, please.”

Your words set off a deep red flush in his chest that crawls up his neck and into his cheeks. His eyes go slightly glazed and feral, and he snaps his hips so hard into you your teeth click. He hoists your knee in his grip higher and you press your bare foot into his shoulder as he sets a brutal pace. He makes it hurt. Hand wrapped around your throat, angling your head back into a stretch that pinches. You arch your back, deepening the angle so that he’s fucking up into you and hitting something that makes dark spots flash in your vision. Oh, it hurts, it hurts, it feels so good. His hulking form over you, teeth bared in a snarl, would be terrifying to anyone else. But you think that even with his hand on your throat and that savage look in his eyes, there is nowhere you’d ever feel safer than right where you are. Beneath him, surrounded by him, held in the palm of his hand. 

“Like that, baby? This what you needed?” He rips the collar of your t-shirt down, then the cup of your bra, and slaps your breast harshly, once, twice, three times, rips a high pitched keen out of you. 

Yes, yes, yes. Thank you. 

“You’re gonna take all of my come like a good girl, but first I need you to give me one more. Need you to come on my cock one more time.” The hand on your throat moves to your clit, circles it over and over again. You can feel the wet slap of his balls heavy against your ass. There’s sweat beading at his temples and your eyes never leave each other. Your heavy pants and the sounds of your fucking filling the room like some sort of lewd song. You start to throb around him, the pounding of his cock pulling your orgasm from deep in your pelvis so that it’s fluttering out, up your back and through your limbs like electricity. You pull his chest to yours then, and he lets his heavy weight crush you into the cushions beneath, grinds his cock deep, his pubic bone pressing harshly on the bud of your clit and eliciting another pulsing wave of your orgasm, and then he’s jerking inside of you. The heat of his come filling you. “Take it, take it all, every last drop.”

Thank you, thank you, thank you.

His hips grind slowly, and he lets your knee drop. You wrap your leg around him and push your foot into the base of his spine, pressing him harder into you. He pulls back a little after the last jerk of his cock, gentle thumb ghosting along the arch of your eyebrow, your cheek, then down across the wing of your collarbone, he lowers his head to press a long kiss to your shoulder. When he looks at you again his eyes are soft, a little concerned, “That was okay? I wasn’t too rough?” You nuzzle into his chest, press a kiss over his heart. 

“No, no, that was what I needed. It was perfect.”

The two of you lay there for a long while afterwards. His head on your breast and his heavy weight pressing you deep into the sofa. The heat rolling off his body is almost overwhelming, sweltering like a furnace, and it wrings exhaustion out of you. There’s an ache settling deep in your pelvis, and the skin of your throat and thighs smart where he gripped you so hard. It’s bliss.

You run your fingers through his hair, nails dragging along his scalp, and then in long, languorous strokes down his back. He practically purrs, like an oversized and needy cat.

Perhaps this necessity is the worst thing that’s ever happened to you. I need you so much, Joel. Isn't that the worst thing you’ve ever heard? Like an addiction, some sort of disease. For him to be the thing in the world to best soothe you, to best comfort you, but also be the one thing that sometimes hurts you the most. The dichotomy of all he brings out in you – the almost overwhelming love you feel for him, the fear of needing him so much you’d die without him, the desperation to be close to him at all times, for the two of you to be more connected, to know each other better than any two people ever have in all history. You could set fire to the two of you wrapped around each other like you are now with the intensity of all your feelings, let your skin meld together as one. And then also: the hurt, the sadness, the feeling that there’s always something small but magnificently significant missing between the two of you. All the unspoken words that hang heavy in the air. That one piece of him he always manages to keep hidden and tucked away from you no matter the intensity of what transpires between you, no matter how wide you spread his ribs to peer within him. It’s like a neverending stabbing to the depth of your heart, over and over and over again. You think you might have become addicted to the way it hurts. So much so, it manifests physically. You think that perhaps the more it hurts the more content you feel because at least you still have him here with you, at least he’s still in your arms. 

There is a part of yourself that realizes that you need something to hurt, to be difficult, to feel worth it. Like if there isn’t some seed of pain at the root of the thing, then it isn’t worth fighting for, isn’t worth the dedication, and you can’t understand why. Perhaps because the start of your life was so easy, so peaceful, despite the world you’d been born into. Perhaps because after your parent’s death everything was suddenly so jarringly difficult, from one blink to the next, life threatening at every turn, that it made the before not seem real anymore. Didn’t seem like it’d ever be attainable again if you didn’t hurt yourself in the process of obtaining it. Perhaps it was just martyrdom, or stupidity, or a subconscious inclination to make everything in your life infinitely more difficult than it actually needed to be. Like that girl who’d always done as was expected of her needed to find some way to counteract her obsequiance with a little bit of rebellion. Some small way within yourself to rail against always being good. Perhaps these small hurts were that form of rebellion. 

And then, well really, how could you not resent him after all that? Even if that resentment is overshadowed by how much you love him, how much you need him, still, still you’re angry with him at the same time for keeping that piece of himself away from you when you’ve spilled your blood at his feet. And yet, despite all this, despite all these thoughts running through your mind as you feel his breath press into your chest, as you feel the strong, steady thump of his heart echo into the cavity of your own, you understand him. You understand the motives behind every one of his actions, read the feeling in his eyes like a book, and so how could you not continue to endure all this ache? Continue to crave it. How could you not offer him your understanding, at the very least? If he won’t let you give him anything else but that, then this is all you’ll offer him. A place he can shuck away the fear he holds gripped around his heart, a place to come and be accepted as he is. Whatever is missing after that can be endured, if only he continues to rest his head here on your heart, let you breathe him in, let you feel him. 

And oh, you think, it is such a terrible thing to love someone so much. A terrible thing. 

-

Ellie liked to say that time healed all wounds. And sometimes that was true. Sometimes it was not a healing, but merely a scabbing over. Eschar over a festering of hurt still alive beneath the surface, but lived with so long it becomes customary. The bearer becomes complacent – used to it. Parts of you felt like that. Different pockets of painful memory across the surface of your skin. Pushed to the back of your mind in a plight for the preservation of your sanity.

Joel liked to be contradictory and say it was never time. But people, it was people that helped you heal your wounds. Serious, stoic old man that he liked to pretend to be, but you found him incredibly soft and sweet the day he told you that. Trying his best to piece together words to comfort you. You’d shown him exactly how sweet you found him afterwards, on your knees, your mouth wrapped around his hard cock. 

And you found they were both right in their own ways. At his side, surrounded by him, the stain of your grief dissipated little by little every day. And as time after Connie’s death passed, the clinic became your priority. The perfect distraction. The patient’s and the people of Jackson were tended to by you and Nancy, who’d become indispensable, with a dedication and hyperfocus, Tommy said, rivaled that of any soldier he had ever served with before. That thought made you quite pleased to think about. For others to recognize the strength in you was cathartic in a way you’d not known you needed.

-

“There’s been word of a group of travelers – about ten of them.” Maria tells you and Joel. You’re at your office desk, a strew of case notes and charts before you. Joel’s already scowling, shaking his head, arms crossed against his chest. His hair is getting too long again, dark curls streaked with gray, messy and sticking up in all the places where you’d tugged your fingers through earlier when he was kissing you. “A teenage girl found her way to the gates – patrol’s bringing her in now. She’s barely speaking, but we managed to get a bit out of her. Says there’s kids with them, a baby. Says they’re sick, hurt – been traveling a long time.”

Joel looks at you, a forbidding look already building in his eyes, “Absolutely not.”

“I wasn’t going to ask you.” You turn your nose up at him and look back at Maria, he feels his blood boil at your bratiness. “What else did she say, Maria? Is she hurt?”

“I said no, Birdie.”

“Not from what we could tell. Wouldn’t let us get too close– Joel, if they’ve got kids with them–” Maria tries.

“I don’t give a damn. And since when’ve you gotten so fucking lax with the safety of this place? What happened to floatin’ anyone who got too close down the river?”

“Joel–” you admonish sharply. But he isn’t listening to this shit. There’s no way in hell he’s letting you go along with this nonsense. “She ain’t going out there. Absolutely not… With just some unconfirmed story to go on? You think I’d let her–”

“Let me?” Your voice is incredulous.

“It isn’t safe. There are too many people here who need you–” I need you, he thinks, I need you so much, I’ll die without you, I need you safe, “People who rely on you. You’re not gonna put all that in jeopardy for a group of strangers.”

“I’m not completely helpless, you know.” You stand now, crossing your arms beneath your breasts, and fucking hell, now is not the time for him to be ogling your tits. You prop your hip out, the sassiest look he’s ever seen, set on your delicate features. “If I’m out there, if it’s necessary, I can take care of myself.”

“Birdie, you’re not hearing me. The answer is no.” There’s no room for argument in his tone, and he sees your temper flare in your eyes, bright hot and seething at him. 

“Joel, I’m not asking your permission. This is what all this has been for – what everything I’ve learned and practiced for was always meant for.” You splay your palms wide, your voice cracking a little in your fervor, and he feels a terrible sense of premonition begin to creep up the back of his neck. His hair standing on end. “There may be only one of me, but that makes my skill all the more necessary to share. There’s only one of me and lots of people who need help – and I’m gonna do everything I can to help everyone I can. Strangers or not. You cannot stop me.” 

He turns away, his heavy boot accidentally colliding with the chair beside him and jostling it violently. “Fuck–” he spits, “Fuck,” runs a hand through his hair, grips hard and tugs. The thought of you out there, in danger, vulnerable, sets his teeth on edge. Goes against everything howling inside him to keep you safe, protected. To hunch his body over yours and bear his teeth like an animal at anyone who’d dare get too close, horde you only for himself. At the same time, his own sense of self preservation rears its ugly head. The thought of you hurt so abhorrent in his mind he shies away from it – wants to run far away, avoid witnessing such a thing.

He pivots sharply back in your direction, brandishing a threatening finger at your chest, “If we do this, we do it how I say. Exactly as I say. No questions asked.” He turns his glare on Maria, “And we’re taking a good group with us. None of those idiots who can barely handle themselves. I want Pablo, Kenneth and Ben.” You and Maria share a look. Jesus, fucking incompetent, the lot of them, he thinks and paces, but they’ll have to do. “And Tommy’s fucking coming. If you’re gonna risk mine, then you’ll risk yours.”

“Fair enough,” Maria says, holding up her palms at him. Her face is serious, not letting his provocation rattle her. “I agree.” 

“Fucking better,” he grumbles under his breath, glaring at her out of the corner of his eye. You sidle up to him, run a soothing palm up his belly to his chest. He has to suppress a shiver. “You’re gonna rip all the hair out of your head, baby,” you croon, soft and appeasing, small palm wrapping around his wrist to gently pull his hand away. The glare he levels at you would send a grown man running. You scrunch your nose at him, and fuck the fact that he wants to kiss you senseless right now. No one person should be this beautiful, this appealing. It surely must go against some law of nature, for one cruel little creature to be so unbearably beguiling, so hard to say no to. Unable to hold on to his annoyance at you for anything longer than a few seconds, he wraps your small hand in his and tugs you further into him. “You’ll do as I say. We’re going to be extremely careful out there. I sense anything even slightly off, and we’re coming back. Understood?” he murmurs into your hair. You look up at him, eyes wide and falsely guileless, oh he knows all your tricks, you can’t fool him with that look. You nod in confirmation, soft pink cheek smushed up against his shoulder. Jesus.

Read Chapter IV

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End Notes: I kind of want to mention some things (and don’t know really know how to put it), but I realize there are parts of Birdie’s thought process in this chapter, and really in the story going forward, that some people might not agree with all that much, or find like idk misguided, unhealthy, etc., and yes, most definitely acknowledged. But really, the whole point of this story is that she’s working through some things, they’re both working through things. So… I know her point of view is perhaps not very well adjusted, but I think she’s going to get better eventually. They’re BOTH going to get better eventually. At least, that’s where I hope I’m able to lead them both to, and I hope you all don’t judge her too harshly or think too poorly of her before this is all over. My goal when I started writing this was to examine the grace we all sometimes need others to give us when we’re our worst or weakest selves. This is a very personal chapter for me, and perhaps my favorite of the entire story. 

I’m sending lots of love to you all. Thank you for reading. xx

[ladythornofrivia]

song bird

Pair: Reiner x Reader

Warnings: Smut. Reiner being a flirtatious bad boy—popular with the ladies—cute fluff. Flirting. Flirtation at Reiner’s part. Fluff at first, angst and smut come later. Spice is nice. Mentions of serious topics and more. And serious flashbacks from season 1 in Reiner’s POV. MDNI, NSFW.

A/N: Other than Levi, my other favorite character is Reiner. He kinda grew on me since season 4 of Attack on Titan, and I’m not going to lie, he’s gotten hotter. So does Eren with long hair. But overall, every anime character is hot—Like Toji and Gojo. That’s all I’ve got to say on that. I just realized I got sidetrack. Aside from Levi and Eren, Reiner got hot. Really hot, and has great character development. Please enjoy this fanfic. :) I’m sorry that it’s long. Reader’s singing is inspired from me listening to Disney’s Sleeping Beauty. For Reiner fans, this one’s for you.

(Please report if anyone decides to steal/plagiarize my work and notify me. Thank you.)

Chapter One

Angel in the Gardens

Next Chapter

In the year of 854, things haven’t changed anything in Marley except Reiner. Although the change in Marley is a little more advance than the last time he resided before the mission. In his younger years, he was assure of himself, life is impossible with the life of prosperity with his family and relatives, and with his Armored Titan powers, anything is possible that could be reach, even his dreams beyond.

But now, with the retaliation and Eren’s endless cycle of hatred in his heart, Reiner wouldn’t and couldn’t blame him. As he came back, the rose-tainted windows shattered, and its colors wilted to stale and darkened. Everything he dreamt of, of being a hero, was his fault.

His mission with Zeke was no challenge; he has done this—entirely trained this since he was a young boy, born with an Eldian mother and a Marleyan father. Most of his childhood has brought up by his mother, his father was absent, even when encountering his father, he felt a struck of shame clutching and became a heavy heart. Reiner up skill his knowledge and agility in the military. He could recall the rain—drenched and heavy, carrying a loaded weapon in his arms as he ran to keep up the running course.

Realizing he has no childhood to conjure, only the days of the preparation for the upcoming years to hold his reputation. His days on being the candidate to inherit Armored Titan sounded like a victory. All the gatherers and onlookers at the parade, showering the Warriors with celebration. Reiner waved before the crowd, unknowingly what lies ahead. Everything was simple for him. Except now, it felt like a feverish dream, a good one, perhaps, but—maybe it wasn’t so. As soon as he got older, his young mind refined into a conclusion that inheriting a Titan power was nothing but an extreme burden.

For years he fought, he felt pain at first, but he has become immune, so immune he hasn’t realized he has two personalities—as a role of a soldier and a warrior.

What has become of Reiner, if not besides as a potential and a born-product for Marley’s representation of strength?

Was he even born to be as himself in the first place?

He had a moment, whether it’s up for him to still continue. Until now, he’s still breathing with a coursing veins with a thirteen-year curse.

What then if he hadn’t survived from Paradis? Power of Armored Titan will, no doubt, pass onto someone else has greater potential than Reiner. Yet, somehow, he’s still here, alive, in the flesh, not as a pure ghost. Though he maybe because his lively soul went numb.

Zeke has done it’s final job on the mission at Fort Slava, and led them to go home happily, reuniting with his family. He hasn’t said much to his mother other than a simple greeting. And when his relatives came and chat, when his uncle asked him regarding to Paradis, Reiner could describe anything but negative—the negativity lacks, but kept uttering. Some were shocked at Reiner’s statement of the potato girl. Each day has begun a turmoil in his mind. In sleepless nights, he tried to drown out the sounds of screams and cries and treachery. Each time he closes his eyes, white flashes overtaken, his memories of the greatest fighters and soldiers in Paradis—the Ackermans.

Then Eren’s toothy smile went into scorching rage.

He’d never forget the look on Eren’s face when Reiner unveiled his injured and regenerated.

The twist of nightmares felt real. Maybe because they are. Reiner couldn’t handle nightmares. People who thought of nightmares as useless dreams have a heart of steel. He hasn’t told a soul since he returned.

His mind snapped. And his heart thumped.

There’s one thing Reiner wouldn’t erase.

You.

He remembered you. He could still hear the sound of your voice calling to him, singing to him, lull him to sleep each time he came by and conversed with you. With rising daylight and glowing moonlight, he yearned to stay by your side forever.

Did he have to leave you for good? He couldn’t bear a hurtful look on your face, and the battle between Paradis and Marley couldn’t contain countless emotions running through him. Reiner was a coward, not knowing what to say to you. Or perhaps he’s afraid because he knows what your reaction and words are going to be. He soon to be longing for your touch, your voice. Your voice resonated him, as if he’s lost into a trance, lost his goal and objective and drowned into your arms and a song adorned upon your smiling face.

Then he tried to hum the tune, but couldn’t replicate it; he wasn’t a good singer. Hearing your laughter after him attempting to tune your voice, he find himself laughing soon after.

Realizing you’re not here, Reiner’s tear drops fell.

He wished to see you again. But how will he? If he attempts to be a deserter, it’s a final sentence for him.

He wouldn’t care.

Deep down, he’d rather stay with you, run away with you, from Eldians and Marleyans and live in another deserted island to start anew. No more playing soldier or a servant to his homeland.

His tears drowned in pillow sheets as his somber eyes replaced his vision with darkness and listless dreams.

Anything would be better than life’s silence in Marley.

~~~

~Year 850~

Fierce concentration due to training has been difficult for a young Warrior. Reiner, along with his companions, Bertholdt and Annie, came into Paradis for one thing. The Founding Titan. With the possession of the Founding Titan, it could end the lives of their enemies in Paradis for good. War hasn’t been kind to them since the day they took their first breath as their sworn oath. They took the mission without question; they—three Warriors—must contribute to their land, Marley.

For the greater good, they all said.

And hoped—prayed, even.

Reiner had countless doubts in his mind, despite his chosen status as a Warrior. Until Bertholdt told him that there are other things need to be occupied. Their infiltration was a success on their part, but seeing thousands—possibly hundred thousands of civilians in Paradis were at their swift end. Many mourned and fought. Others, fought against their livelihood, whether they want to fight or struggle.

He could hear their screams—their agonies, hate and cries every night since the first time he and his friends came. Everything was in shambles, and the crowd grew wilder with food supplies and good shelter during difficult hours. Adults starved themselves to feed their children with good consumable bread, sometimes with a bit of cheese and dairy to drain while others kept the food and space to themselves—all cramped with melancholic and upsetting atmosphere. Shortcomings went by when the meat supplies are strictly limited, and the law abide the rule to eliminate several folks after their failed years of attempting to crop and grow rations in the stubborn and dry field. Whether rain or shine, nothing prevail. They all kept trying until they found themselves exhausted and drowning in further to despair and anger.

This wasn’t the life people wanted. They wanted a lifelong prosperity and their properties to be in order. Even if it means to be locked away in a 60 meter wall from Titans.

Marley’s guidance to the future Warriors must be advanced and clever if it means for the predecessors to amplify the example of becoming a greater threat that contributes to annihilate the history’s nightmares. A spark of evolution, an ignited ideals and source of persuasion of the Marley lands to set the world rock to the core.

Paradis, on the other hand, hadn’t set the world alight. Paradis was as quiet as a tomb—untouched.

Once.

It was once pristine and silent, surrounded by trees and animals and mountains and quiet lakes.

A newly world from theirs—Reiner’s, Annie’s and Bertholdt’s.

A newly world to which they must merge as one of them.

~~~

Wearing a uniform and staying motionless under a torrid weather was a torture.

Commander Shadis kept an eye to the new coming trainees—104th Training Corps. With wide eyes fatigued and a bald head is enough to scare others. Not Reiner, though. Gladly, he doesn’t need to do the introductions. So does Annie and Bertholdt. The grim look in their eyes says it all.

The only Reiner is amused of is when the girl was eating a hot potato in her hand. Though at the end of the day, she was punished to run for hours until evening. Supper between trainees was another thing Reiner had to attend like the rest. Though his attention wasn’t on him; but his heart pounded when a boy with teal eyes and brown hair mentioned of the Titans that attacked and destroyed Shiganshina. A boy named Eren Yeager described their appearances. It was vague, but, Reiner knew what Eren meant. Maintaining his reaction, Reiner kept sipping his drink in stilled and calm pace, watching everyone being so oddly fascinated with Eren’s story until the rivalry with another boy, decided to jump in and argue. They somewhat reminded Reiner of his chaotic niece, Gabi, along with her friends, Falco and Udo and Zofia.

Like Gabi, Jean and Eren are a bunch of rowdy brats, fighting for power, and their perspectives are vastly opposites. One wants to be in a Military Police Brigade and the other wants to face the Titans alone, as if Eren’s destined to destroy every last one of the gigantic creatures.

As soon as Reiner finished his drink, he went up for a goodnight’s sleep. A soft yelp came below him. His golden eyes looked down and saw a young girl collapsed on the floor.

Abashed, Reiner held his hand outward as his height crouched down to the girl’s level.

“Sorry, little lady,” Reiner said with a smirk. “I didn’t watch where I’m going, but I didn’t mean to hurt a pretty lady like yourself.” He sent a wink at her direction.

“Th-that’s no problem,” she said, blushing, unable to return the gaze. She got up and went beside her friends, who are giggling at Reiner’s charm. One friend slapped her hand at the blushing girl’s back shoulder.

He smirked as he watched them afar until completely out of sight with a fold on his arms. Until a heavy hand fell onto Reiner’s shoulder blade.

“Remember what we came here for,” Bertholdt reminded, then moved past Reiner.

Annie hasn’t looked at Reiner’s direction, focusing in her own world.

And that Reiner’s mind recollected regarding to the real reason and obtained a lifelong achievement to an acknowledgement not only for himself but the safety of his family.

Marley.

In the land of Marley, Reiner must always remember two things: knowing one’s place, and the line of betrayal and trust must never to be cross.

~~~

Eren had the most difficult time with the gear strapped to his trousers. Shadis kept yelling at him, while the trainees snickered at his attempts to pass the test. He fell down clumsily again. Stuck like glue. Reiner, on the other hand, thought he has given enough lesson for Eren to pass with flying colors. Needless to say, today wasn’t going well in his favor.

He shouldn’t worried about Eren’s intentions, right? If he fails, he wouldn’t have an insignificance of him discovering their secret. Seeing Eren’s determination and fury against the Titans would mean one thing—revenge against who’s the main responsibility of Shiganshina’s Fall. A dead end. Reiner’s ability to shift had him on edge. Bertholdt noticed this, but said nothing; comforting and reminding Reiner in public, or even an air of whisper will cause suspicion from the outsiders of Marley.

“Wagner, give him the belt,” Shadis commanded.

“Y-yes!” Wagner complied.

By the end, Shadis concluded that Eren’s gear belt is broken. And the trainees were shocked at Eren’s ability to balance while his gear was broken and uncooperative that led him to failure in the first place. Eren went from failure to success. He’s going to defeat the Titans. Mikasa was relieved for Eren, and Armin believed in Eren. Reiner was stunned.

Eren’s revenge will proceed.

~~~

In most days, the trainees went onto the next step: using the Maneuver gear. Though this one dark day, they trained under the rain, carrying loaded bags while everyone, even Reiner, overheard Shadis shouting, lecturing over Armin’s slow pace. Reiner went over Armin’s side and slung Armin’s bag over Reiner’s shoulder. Albeit Armin retrieved it back and ran farther.

The people in training, his newfound friends, called Reiner the big brother—helpful and kind to everyone. But he wasn’t a big brother when it comes to girls’ side. He’s just as charming when he’s helping them unloading heavy items. And even encourage them during the one-on-one fight. Every girl had their hair covered their flustered eyes and smile. Each wink and touch he gave sent them flinging with squeals. Some boys were jealous because the girls they had a crush on were focused on Reiner.

Though Reiner had benefits of gaining admiration; to keep under and away from suspicions.

During supper, Eren and Jean argued again. Reiner grew tired of it. So he quickly eat his meal before bedtime. But the people before him took long to exit—filled with chatter about anything that’s unrelated to him.

Looking for another exit, he went at the right door, but cold darkness greeted him. The long night has caressed him with soft wind as he stepped out. Moonlight shone above the heavy pine wood trees. Exhaling, he watched the others saying goodnight to each other. The smoke-scent wafted through his nostrils, as he spotted the flames flickering.

Their life is different, after all. Using candles and fire and torches is an obvious, clear sign that island of Paradis is way far behind from the rest of the outside world. Hence the walls they built and buried themselves in for security and comfort from the hungry eyes and teeth from gigantic creatures.

In resolute state, Reiner marched onward onto the clear path, while pebbles crushed beneath his steps, ready to repose for tomorrow’s another course on defense.

But the noise shot nearby at his left direction. He stopped and inspected the crowded scenery. Only a few left, but all face at the opposite direction. A chance for Reiner to sneak into the forest. But with the Maneuver gear, his doom will come sooner than later. Though he entered in the forest, but not too far deep in.

Through the gusted wind, a melody entered.

Reiner was sure he wasn’t dreaming, he went in a little further, shoving the tree branches aside. A soothing melody came once more. His eyes fluttered, then shut. He took the song with him like the air he breathes. His legs numbed as he swayed.

Who’s voice was that? Reiner thought. Am I…dreaming?

“REINER!”

Behind him, the violent rustling from bushes became louder.

“What the hell are you doing there? The titans, remember? Without a defense weapon, you’d be dead!” Bertholdt lectured.

“I just thought…”

Bertholdt’s head tilted to the side. “Thought..?”

“Nothing, I thought I heard a deer coming by,” he lied.

“Everyone’s sleeping at this hour. We shouldn’t be waste anymore time than this.”

As they progressed into the clearing area, the grounds were completely empty.

“What’s up with you today?” Bertholdt scolded.

“Nothing,” Reiner replied. “Nothing at all. I’m just…bored. I don’t want to stand outside.”

Bertholdt sighed, hands behind his head. “Just don’t get carried away with the girls, alright? If you get too close to one of them, you’ll soon forget you-know-what. We’re here for one thing. And one thing only. It’s for the sake of—”

Reiner nudged Bertholdt with his elbow roughly. “Don’t say it, you idiot! People are still here! They could be hiding for all we know!”

They soon stopped at their mid-walk, found out that the boys were sneaking out from their cabins, based on their mood and direction they came from. Reiner greeted the boys goodnight before rushing into their cabins before taking a slight jog.

“Sorry, you’re not in a right mind,” Bertholdt remarked. “That’s why I’m here as your reminder. If you’re here alone, you’re doomed. And Annie won’t help you the way I did.”

Reiner’s brow twitched. “Why don’t you say that sentence to her face and see what happens?”

Bertholdt’s cool demeanor diminished. “Hey, I didn’t mean it like that,” he said with his hands flailing. “Annie won’t remind you like I do. She does things in her own way—does her own kicking and whatnot.”

Reiner face forward, entering the cabins. “If you say so.”

Then he hopped inside the bed after he had taken off his shoes. In a loud groan, he said to himself, “Another day, another struggle.”

“You can do this,” Bertholdt said before blowing out the candle light and tucked himself in the sheets, already snoring and had his leg twitched.

His heart beat pumped each time he breathed aloud into the darkness. Thus, he appeased himself as his eyes fallen and his body motionless, his loud heart became softer to hear.

The sky was dark, and heard nothing but a song echoed in his dreams.

~~~

The one-on-one fight was no problem. Reiner found himself defenseless to Eren. He can fool Eren as a big and slow fighter, but when it comes to Mikasa, the role of being big and slow became real as it can be. He found himself flying and landed on top of Eren’s body.

The rest was a blur. A fight between Annie versus Mikasa. Both with great skills and their cold eyes turned against each other. This the world that Reiner is acquainted with.

~~~

The boys were crowded once they had their break from their training while Reiner and Bertholdt remain restful under the shade by the massive tree. Boys didn’t talk anything other than girls. But as soon as they mentioned girls, Reiner couldn’t bring himself to stay still as Bertholdt eventually gave up and accompanied Reiner to others.

“So what’s this about girls?” Reiner uttered.

“What’s happening?” Bertholdt’s awkwardness came through.

The boys exchanged glances with each other for a second. “There’s this girl, she’s really beautiful.”

“Her height’s too petite,” another boy said.

“And really pretty,” the third boy said.

“And gentle,” another boy commented.

“Who was it?”

“Christa Lenz,” the first boy answered. “She reminded me of a princess for some reason.”

The third boy cackled. “That’s too much of a stretch! I’d say she reminded me of a goddess to give us blessing.”

“If she were a goddess, she wouldn’t even you a look and give you a blessing without a second thought,” the second boy said.

“Hey, I’m not that hideous! It’s just the uniform that makes me feel sweaty.”

“From the sun, I hope.”

“Then you might as well join the people wanted to work in the fields instead.”

And soon fell into a laughter.

“Where is she?” Reiner asked in firm tone.

The boys all gawked at him now.

“She’s at the training grounds with Mikasa,” the first boy said.“Why?”

Reiner turned to see Bertholdt having a look at him in the eye with a silent caution.

“No reason,” Reiner replied, shrugging. “We just want to join in on the fun. We’ve been training hard for the last couple of days—my legs are getting all sore.”

“I agree,” the first boy said. “I wonder when the graduation will be. No one knows until we’re notified, right?” Then laid his hand on Reiner’s shoulder. “See you later.”

“Where are you going?” Bertholdt asked, mortified.

“To the food supplies inside Shadis’s building,” one of the boys answered.

“But we’re not allowed to be there,” the second boy scolded. “We’ll be hanged or shot if we go there. Or run laps until we’re starving.”

“Relax,” the first boy slung his arm over the second boy’s shoulder. “We’re just going to see if the potato girl is there.”

“I wonder if she’s going to run laps again,” the third boy said.

“Or not eat anything for tonight again,” the second boy added.

“Shadis really knows how to humiliate someone in front of the crowd,” the third boy said, snickering. “Remember the last time she ‘farted’?”

“Ah, who cares? As long as we have entertain, nothing else matters,” the first boy replied with a smug.

Three of the boys disappeared from Reiner and Bertholdt’s sight.

“You’re seriously not going, are you?” Beetholdt lectured.

“I’m not going to the food supplies,” Reiner replied.

In that moment, Bertholdt’s eyes went grim. The boys’s howling cackle echoed behind them. “I wasn’t talking about the food supplies.”

~~~

Down at the steepest hillside, the birds flocked near at a radiant sunset hung low between the clouds.

“Are you even listening to me, Reiner?” Bertholdt said. “If you fail, we—”

“I know, I know,” Reiner dismissed. “A little break won’t hurt.”

“I never said anything about a break. I hope you understand what you’re getting yourself into.”

“Yes, Mother,” Reiner remarked. He looked at Bertholdt over his shoulder.

Bertholdt sighed. “You’re a Warrior, playing as a soldier. Your heart belongs to Marley. Nowhere else.”

“Keep it down,” Reiner warned. “We’re almost there at the training grounds! We’re about to see them soon enough.”

Unimpressed, Bertholdt said, “It’s only Mikasa and Christa.”

Reiner’s lips curved. “Exactly.”

Bertholdt scratched his head. “You like Mikasa, too?”

Reiner shuddered back. “There’s no way I like Mikasa that way. Not in a million years. If anything, I’m glad she likes Eren more. I wouldn’t even let her near to anywhere near me or my bed.”

Bertholdt’s hand slammed against his face. “You—uh!” He slapped his face again. “You never change. Though you aren’t slacking from your mission at the start, so I suppose you need a break.”

Reiner’s head snapped with his ears perked up and his eyes twinkled. “Really?”

His friend’s shoulders sagged. “Do what you want as long as it doesn’t hurt the mission.”

“Speaking of mission, where’s Annie?”

“She should be with the others. But if not, I wouldn’t be surprised of her having some alone time. She sticks with us for so long she might be tired of looking at the same faces.”

His shoulders shrugged. “Guess so,” Reiner said.

Bertholdt screamed.

“What, is there a bug on you or SOMETHING?!”

Both boys jumped and fell altogether at the sight of glaring Annie.

“We’re here on this island, and you boys are surprisingly well-guarded,” Annie stated with her arms crossed. “Interesting progress. Is that how you boys trained nowadays?”

“We haven’t seen you,” Bertholdt said, clearing his throat. “For a while now. His face is smeared with blush once he hoisted himself. “Hi, Annie.”

Reiner smacked himself in the face. Of course he wouldn’t erase the fact that Bertholdt likes her.

Without giving a second glance, Annie walked ahead, approaching downward at the training grounds.

“Was there a reason you want to be at the training grounds?”

Bertholdt scratched his cheek. “Well, that’s—”

“If you’re here for training, we could use an extra hand,” Reiner answered.

Scoffing, Annie’s hair flipped over to the side. “What are you saying? You’ve been training long and hard since when you were a child.”

“She has a point,” Bertholdt supported.

“Maybe, but it doesn’t mean we’re slacking off. We’re here, training as them. We just need more time for more preparation. I’d be frightened if we keep ourselves down. We’d be dead in the ditch. As much as I hate to say this, but, one of these days we’re going to betray them someday. If someone finds out our true intentions, I’d rather be…be…”

“Be?” she said, her eyes unblinking.

Waiting.

“Brave,” the blond said. “Rather than be shameful.”

All of them stayed quiet.

“I agree,” Bertholdt said. “We have to be brave. We all have to, if it comes to that.” He patted his hand over Reiner’s back. “Don’t stress yourself. We’ll deal with it if we have to.”

Reiner dipped his head as an acknowledgment in return.

“It’s settled then,” Annie said in quiet determination.

Soon they met up with Mikasa, who was helping with Christa with defense mechanism with wooden weapons—all kinds. So far it has been going accordingly. But Eren was beaten badly, so badly Armin stitched Eren up, watching them from the sidelines.

“It hurts,” Eren whined.

“You should probably learn a thing or two from Mikasa’s skill,” Armin suggested with a faint, encouraged smile. “At any rate, you should start. It’s better to be beaten up than to be disarm by the Titans.”

“He’s right, you know,” Reiner intruded.

“Reiner,” Eren grinned, stretching from ear to ear.

“Don’t mean to pry, but, you’ve beaten down, only this time it’s Mikasa, and not the maneuver. Still, I don’t get what’s the point of fighting against people.”

“Beats me,” Eren responded. “Besides, it’s better to have knowledge than nothing.”

Then the boys overheard Mikasa’s harsh, but soft tone.

“Wrong,” she said, watching Christa, who was out of breath, ready to fall. “Your hands and arms need to be in a correct form when performing an attack. And your legs and feet need to be balanced—don’t step on a wrong foot.”

Reiner’s brows furrowed, eyes squinting.

Eren and Armin leaned forward, studying Reiner closely. “Something the matter, Reiner?” Eren spoke.

“She’s too harsh,” Reiner said. “Not everyone can be like Mikasa.”

Armin gulped. “True, but…”

“Was she always like this?”

“To who?”

“Everyone.”

“She’s always been like this, even before the Shinganshina’s fall. Why?”

Reiner noticed Armin gave him watchful eyes—curious, no doubt, but watchful.

“No reason,” he said to Armin. “She threw me across the field, remember?”

“Ugh, don’t remind me of that,” Eren intruded.

He went to Christa once she’s dismissed by Mikasa. Reiner knelt down before her, and offered his hand for her to grip. She’s indeed beautiful, no doubt. Petite height as he got closer to her, her watching him with frightful expression.

So gentle and fragile. Too perfect for the unjust world.

“Are you okay?” he questioned.

“I’m…” she cleared her throat. “I’m okay. I wasn’t seriously hurt. Mikasa did what she had to.”

Reiner chuckled. “That’s quite alright. Here, I’ll help you.”

Before Christa could touch Reiner’s hand, another hand showed up, splitting the concentrated mood. Both gazed at Ymir, a tall girl with brown hair with freckles, adorned with a scowl.

“I can take Christa from here, if you don’t mind,” she seethed, and carried Christa in her arms, fading into the sunset’s light.

“Wow,” is all Eren said.

~~~

He hasn’t seen Christa since midday. He supposed that Ymir has taken a certain liking to her. If Reiner crossed the line with temptation, things will ugly with Ymir. She had no doubt to report him if she discovers of his Titan form. With that, he decided not to pursue for Christa’s reciprocation.

Often so, his mind changes whenever there’s love and affection. But with Christa, he felt enamored, like the walls had broken down on him. Shaking it off, he cast his feelings aside.

After that, they went back to their cabins, but just before long, he heard the melody in the wind again. Suddenly, he had forgotten about Christa and the girls he flirted.

There it is again. The melody arises. The voice carried again into the wind and whispered in his ears.

Without consciousness, he followed the sound into the woods once more.

He never once heard sounded so unearthly and beautiful. The song felt real—resonated and clutched him in the heart.

When he finally reached into the forest’s center, and there she was singing, lying underneath the green grass, facing away from the moonlight, surrounded by fresh oblong leaflets and forget-me-nots, wearing her white nightgown reached up to her feet and her white puffed sleeves adorned her flawless skin. Her long manes splayed against the ground.

Reiner stopped himself. He couldn’t see her face. One wrong move, she’ll stop singing. He was no fool. Yet he was; he has no weapon with him.

Should I tell her? Should I not and stay here and watch?

As he was about elevate his foot, the twig crunched. You stopped singing, exhaled a soft gasp, promptly rose forward with her back turned.

“Who’s there?” you demanded.

Crisp leaves rustling as the cool air embedded onto your skin.

He heard your voice, saying, “Don’t come any closer.”

Anyone who would see you in this state will get in trouble. You’re defenseless, broke a curfew, and alone, no less. You needed a bit of guidance to help you for self-protection. Though he had closer inspection on you; you held a pocket knife.

“It’s not safe here,” he said aloud. “Head back to the cabins.”

“I hate it there,” you said. “I have to forget the militia life, even just for a moment.” You successfully hid behind the thick tree without relying on navigating your footsteps.

Reiner sauntered in careful pace. “Trust me, anywhere is safer than these woods. Titans lurk these parts every night.”

“I can take care of myself.”

“There’s nothing wrong with help,” he said, stepping closer to a thick tree she concealed herself with.

“You don’t have to show your face to me,” he said. “Come out, and I’ll help you.”

His ears caught your gentle sighs.

Surrendered, you walked backwards and shortly felt his hands rest atop your shoulders.

“You can trust me,” he said, ironically.

Pausing, Reiner felt you shivering under his touch. Reiner pulled his jacket out and placed it above your head.

Trust me, he said.

Underneath the jacket, he saw the shy glint your eyes. Although he’s joyous, his shadow nearly covered up your entire face.

“Don’t worry, I’m here,” he whispered aloud.

Both of you and Reiner giggled in relief.

A deep groan sounded through the trees, and there, the titan appeared. Reiner took your hand and ran as fast as he could, making way towards the cabins. The titan chased them, and your panic rises. Reiner appeased you as he retraced his steps to which direction he entered from. With the trees swayed violently and the birds flew, they knew they’re in deep trouble.

It took them long enough to reach the exit, and the scouts were alerted at the Titan’s heavy stomps. From there, the Titan has been annihilated, Reiner had his arms around you the whole time. When Commander Shadis saw what’s occurring, Reiner knew you and him in deep trouble.

Shadis spared no time to scold Reiner and you.

“What the hell are you doing in the forest? Didn’t I say that you are prohibited to stepped over into the woods?! Not only you left yourselves defenseless, but you also chose to be a Titan meal!”

Reiner’s neck slightly bowed. “We apologize, sir.”

“Apologies are unacceptable. For one week, you two will be in the stable duty for your disobedience and your incompetent performance! Until then, you’ll have to train harder and faster. I expect you won’t make the same mistake again!”

“Understood, sir,” Reiner complied as you softly said, “I understand.”

Even your head is tucked, Commander Shadis looked at you as an insufferable insect. Perhaps this is what calls a duty, or a certain care in order for you to be prepared for the events like this to make sure you don’t fail. Though it didn’t stop there.

“Go back to your cabins and get up early. You two will be doing duty as a soldier. But at night, you better damn well know how to handle the stables. Dismissed!”

~~~

“I’m sorry I acted stupid. I’ll make sure it won’t happen again,” you said in a fainted tone.

Reiner watched you in sadness. “Don’t be. A mistake can be fixed.”

He watched you halting your tracks and give him back his jacket. “Thank you.”

He chuckled, his golden eyes are shut. “No problem. If you need any help, you come to me.”

“I will,” you responded with bliss. As you took the first step on the wooden staircase leading up to your assigned cabin, Reiner grabbed your wrist and watched you turned around, but only your manes shielded your entire visage.

“Goodnight,” he said. And left, leaving you wondering.

~~~

Everything was perfectly usual in broad daylight, but everyone knew what occurred with Reiner. Everyone asked Reiner of the details, but he delivered none, saying that he wanted to stroll because he was bored. For Bertholdt and Annie, their reactions had made things difficult. Reiner has to keep up with a good image, otherwise, it’ll be stained. Then he thought about you, wondering if anyone asked.

Reiner wanted to see you again. Thankfully, Shadis both punished you and him. After the training and the exam sessions, Reiner paid you a visit in the cabins, but instead the girls he randomly once flirted were there.

“Reiner,” the girls were calling out to him, reaching down the steps to meet him.

“I hope you’re doing okay. That titan is unbelievably stupid,” the first girl said.

“Who are you looking for?” another girl asked.

“Have you seen Annie?” he said, lying.

“Annie isn’t here,” the third girl said. “Why? You need something from her?”

Reiner shook his head. “Suddenly I forgot what to say to her.”

“We’ll relay a message to her, if you want,” fourth girl insisted.

He settled a dismissal wave. “No need. I can say it to her myself.”

“We’re entirely familiar with Annie, but she looked scary,” the first girl commented.

Though Reiner ignored her careless remark and said his goodbye before he left to search for you.

The heat in his chest felt tighter as he goes farther to meet you. He felt unsure for a moment until the melody came.

His heart danced with relief as he followed the sound of your voice from the grounds to the stables. He went inside first, then as the melody grew louder, he went at the back of the stables, and behind the fence, Reiner saw you admiring the flowers nearby under the midday light as your lips tugged into a smile beneath a long cloak of hair. As you stood up, your eyes met his; your humming stopped. In a moment of abate, Reiner watched you. The cool breeze unveiled your face, still standing far apart. Reiner gripped his hand on the white fence as the sheepish look in your eyes weren’t there, replaced with a spark of confidence and familiarity, filled with spry and beauty basked under the afternoon sun. Like an angel basked in radiant sun.

Little did he know, Reiner found himself smitten in the hands of an Eldian.

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