#but i try to be mindful cause i am younger/in better shape so i know i can do things easier

[quaranmine]

hi it's me at the lookout :D

things of note:

-the terrain around this particular tower is a bit more rocky/extreme than i envisioned for grian's tower, but the environment in general is very similar. the geography, biome, etc isn't too different from wyoming, which is just to the north a few hours

-it is a good thing grian is very acclimated to all this after living in the mountains for a few years because the altitude kiiiiinda kicked our butts. i thought this trail would be fine for my mom since it isn't very long but i didn't really take the elevation in consideration. she did not make it to the tower, unfortunately.

fortunately...we have radios, because my dad gave them to us. i'm living the firewatch dream by radioing my mother from the top

-this lookout is staffed!! i think it's the only remaining staffed lookout in Colorado. it has been continuously used for over 100 years. unfortunately, it was Sunday, and nobody was on duty. I did see the lookout though at the cabin below, because she was talking with some search and rescue personnel who were out training. She stayed in her cabin though, or else I would have spent like half an hour asking her questions.

-this lookout is not a live-in one, it is a 10x10 ft cabin on top of the rocks. there's a huge staircase to get up there and at the bottom is the cabin the lookout lives in. that is also the set up that Philip Connors talks about in his memoir Fire Season, but both lookouts in the game Firewatch are live-in ones. thus, so are Scar's and Grian's.

^ very steep staircase

also, this lookout bears a STRIKING resemblance to the Thorofare Lookout in the game (which would be Scar's lookout in the fic)

^ firewatch game vs a photo of this place from google images because i don't have one at this angle. iirc, the thorofare lookout in the game wasn't quite as steep/insane to get to as this one though. there's stairs but not THAT many

i do not know if the kitty i saw was fjord or fiona, but i was so surprised and excited to see they had cats! previously in all my research i had only seen lookouts having dogs. Jellie the lookout kitty is in good company up here!

i had an excellent time :D i didn't even plan for this to land on the 100th day of the challenge ofc that just happened. i had this trip planned way in advance and when planning it i found this trail and decided to go. had no idea that it was day 100 of my writing challenge, which is also basically the 100th day of writing this fic

<333

[azrakon]

Hi, your pictures are absolutely stunning! I love the plasticity and colors of your work🫶🍒💖

Where did you learn to paint? How long have you been doing it?

I have been drawing since I was a toddler, it was always my favorite thing to do and I was always hyper-fixated on it. That phase never left me growing up, so I was always enthusiastic about learning and getting better because if I was drawing in any capacity I was happy.

I study a lot of different artists I admire. I think the key to improving is intertwining studying real life, and art you find personally pleasing.

I am not a massive art nerd who I memorizes artists names, but I do make an effort to remember some who personally inspired me with their art style and vision ( keep in mind I am only referring to their art and when referencing them as inspiration I purely mean it in the technical art sense )

Alberto Mielgo

Alessandro Barbucci

Shiyoon Kim

Ami Thompson

Ethan Becker (don't come at me, his techniques and thought process simplified a lot for me when other YouTube art creators were confusing me and took too long to explain therefore losing me in the process + his art, shape design, mood, color and simplicity are all very appealing to me.)

Jamie Hewlett

Io Sakisaka

a whole bunch of Twitter artists that are younger than me so I am actually ashamed to name them cause why is this 15-year-old actually slaying my whole existence and I'm caught studying their shape design.

Now to address how I learn and advance my skills.

I don't know.

Actually, I kind of do and don't at the same time. I really am more of an impulsive, intuitive type, where I really do what I feel like and I sometimes get more adventurous while doing a piece or even doing a sketch, so I kind of think: What if I do this... But I don't know how to do that. And that's how I start researching and looking up how other people do it or I straight up just start guessing. Learning new things for me doesn't come from a place of "I am not good enough and I better study this or else no one will respect me" Learning new things for me comes from a place of looking at what I am doing and being like "omg wouldn't it be sick if I knew how to do this so I can do that on top of my sketch??" or "I wanna sketch this scene but wouldn't be cool If I drew it from an extreme perspective?"

Being enthusiastic and excited is the key, learn because you are excited to and study to add to your vision, not to compare yourself or try to reach a standard when the standard is constantly changing and literally the only people you're seeing as the standard are the people who do not care about it and love themselves and are excited to draw, that's why they make it look so easy.

[writerfae]

I am very talkative today, it seems! I hope you don't mind!

I have an interesting question, because though I don't know the answer, I have a good guess!

But Endre would want to know this way more than me.

To Endre Henry would seem like the ideal big brother (cause he is). Even knowing that he left Aiden, he'd still seem perfect to Endre because he sees how they act around echother. He sees how Henry still looks out for Aiden, and he hears about how they were as kids.

And Endre, who's trying to be a better big brother, who regrets the way he treated his siblings in the past would really admire him.

But in one of his guilt fuled, self-deprecating moments, he would surely ask something like this, and I want to hear what Henry would answer:

Endre: H... how did you do it? You were carrying so much pain. You were out of place. Your mom died. You bacame a vessel for your father's grief, just because you looked like her. You had to care for both him and your brother and Aiden... he didn't have to carry as much. You had to make sure he didn't. You did make sure he didn't, so how did you never get jealous? How come you never wanted to switch places? How did you never take it out on him? How come... how come I wasn't more like you?

Please answer as Henry if you can!

I don’t mind at all! In fact I’m happy for every ask I get from you ^^

I feel really sorry for Endre. I think Henry would too. He’d probably tell him something like this:

I am not an heir like you. I didn’t have a whole kingdom to worry about. All I have is my family and they are everything to me. I was taught from my mother from a very young age on to do what is best for my family and that stuck with me. Especially after losing my mom. I had to keep looking after them, like I promised her.

It was really hard, yes, and often I hated it. But for me, it was something I had to do. Someone had to keep this family from falling apart and I did it. Because I’m the eldest child. Because I love my family. And no matter how hard it can be, love is not a burden. I had to take responsibility. My father couldn’t and my mother was gone and Aiden was just a child.

And I wanted him to be a child. See, the thing is that unlike you (I assume), who had to prepare for a reign all your youth, I had a pretty carefree childhood. Sure, there was this secret I carried, but still, I was happy. When I was eight, I got to learn and play and joke around. It wouldn’t have been fair if I didn’t let Aiden have the same experience. I’ve never been jealous of Aiden for getting to be a child, cause I got to do it as well when I was his age.

And that makes the difference, I think. You never were allowed to experience being a child in the way your siblings did. I get why that would make you jealous. You know, I never told anyone but Callan before, but when I was younger, I sometimes found myself envying Aiden for being our father’s biological son. It’s not like Milan loved Aiden more, he’s always treated me the same gentle way, yet the two had a sort of connection that him and I didn’t have and it was obvious to me. So it is not like I never got jealous, but jealousy is an ugly feeling. And like all negative emotions, it needs an outlet, so it won’t eat us alive. Again, that’s something my mother taught me. (What we learn from our mothers really shape us as a person, I think.) For me, that outlet was going to the woods. It cleared my head, sorted my thoughts and made me calm down.

I don’t know how you were raised and I can only guess from what I know from Callan how much pressure there was on you ever since you were a child. But if I had to assume, I think you lacked such an outlet and to protect yourself, you started letting your negative emotions out on your siblings. You know as well as me that that’s not the right way, but you didn’t know any better. Growing up takes time for a reason. If you have to grow up too fast, like you and me, you can act mature all you want, but certain things, certain emotions and processes simply aren’t fully developed yet. Deep down you’re still not an adult, you are just a child keeping up an act all the time. Not just in front of others, but also in front of yourself. And that can lead to miscalculations and wrong decisions.

Like you mistreating your siblings. Like me leaving behind my brother. Because that’s the thing. I am by far not perfect, I haven’t always been the best brother in the past. But Aiden has forgiven me for that, just like your siblings forgave you, so all that is left is to do better in the future. Give yourself time to grow. You have acknowledged your mistakes and your mistakes have been forgiven, so now it is time to forgive yourself. There is no need to look back, look ahead instead. Look at your siblings, meet them eye to eye.

[arenabreadandbiscuits]

Alright guys I wanna make this post because I'm not mad or anything just feel like it's better being said now versus waiting until the last minute.

This post mentions my commission methods but also what I am and am not okay with writing. Please read and vote at the bottom.

Some kinks I will not write for unless it's a very specific situation. Here's kinks that I will write for no matter what you commission. I'm desperate for funds so I'll take up to ten active commissions at a time as long as they follow my rules and such.

TOPICS MENTIONED BELOW ARE PURELY FOR ADULTS AND SOME ARE DARK IN NATURE. I ONLY TAKE COMMISSIONS FROM ADULTS SO EVERYONE KEEP THAT IN MIND AND READ ON. IF YOU ARE UNCOMFORTABLE WITH ANYTHING MENTIONED PLEASE MOVE ON FROM MY ACCOUNT BUT ALSO PLEASE KEEP IT TO YOURSELF.

More info on commissions HERE!

Kinks Available: (not outta pocket)

Daddy/Mommy kink

Breeding/oviposition/eggs

Dom/sub

Spanking/choking/electrocution (depends on context)/ biting/ marking/ claiming

Cock worship or body worship in general

Wings/tail kink

Tentacles

Face riding/thigh riding/riding in general

Cum worship

Pet/Master

Somnophilia aka sleepy sex or sex while sleeping but I only want requests where consistent is known as someone who was sa repeatedly when I was younger.

Yandere/blood kink

Noncon/con noncon

Spurting

Etc, these are just some to name a few that I will write for. There's more I'm sure but when commissioning me mention exactly what you're looking for and we can really discuss it. :3

Big Nono Kinks/Not Available:

I have a history and present of self harm so nothing like that unless certain cases call for aftercare. Ex: person 1 is a sh-er and their partner catches them to stop it or even if they don't catch them in time they are strict for them to not do it again and shows them love and care for the rest of the fic.

Amputation.. ngl someone dmed me earlier asking for this and I was willing to hear it out at first but grew into not wanting anything to do with it especially Cause I think it was going to be purely self indulgent. The ONLY cases I'll let slide by is something like an OC x Valdemar from the Arcana for example. It seems like something they'd be into doing and I really like that character so honestly any commission for Valdemar I'll most likely do. (Not just Valdemar but Vlastomil, Vulgora, Valerius, etc) It's interesting because I'll either be down to do it or I won't, it purely depends on what's being asked so always dm me with everything you think I should know.

Anything to do with feces

Weird 'sibling' or 'family' dynamics. Please don't request incest, my personal sa revolved around that and I'd literally be sick to see anyone ask for it. The only way i'd be okay with it is if they aren't actual family by any means, just people who grew up together. An example of what I would feel okay writing would be something like Toji (jujutsu kaisan) x OC/reader who he found who grew into having feelings for him years after they became an adult. Another example could be Severus Snape x reader who grew similarly. In these cases I'd put more emotions and such into the story to explain the inner workings of their heads when they are around each other. Most stories would probably have angst too because of the morals aspect. It's something else that has to be discussed and talked about nonetheless.

Throw up no matter what.

Anything to do with animals.. please don't. Only things that can slide by are werewolves, sirens, feline hybrids but these beings are conscious which is why I'd write for them just no beastiality. An example that would be okay would be: something like an OC x werewolf Elliot from Stardew Valley where he probably keeps it a big secret and gets worried about anyone finding out and then he can't stop himself from shape shifting on a night of a full moon that he wasn't prepared for and his partner has to be patient with both calming him down and his instincts to mate.

Trying to think of some more because there's definitely more things I wouldn't write for but maybe I'll stop here for now. Like I said DMS are open and if you have questions on what I will and won't write it's always best to ask me there. Our chats will be private unless you wish them not to be just don't be weird please and thank you.

Imma leave this little list here and if I have to add on to it later I most definitely will but those ideas I mentioned earlier in this post are fine to request if anyone wants them I'm just trying to lay ground rules. My stories can be really cute and fluffy to things more dark in nature but always ask to see what's fine and what's not.

Here's a poll for engagement but also don't vote if you have no intention of actually commissioning. Also HERE is my original commissions post that you can check out for more info.

I'm putting this poll up for a week but know you can dm me prior to it being done and after, like I mentioned this poll is for engagement and just some ideas on what I can and will write for others if it's commissioned. Please be over 18 to commission anything sexual from me. I profess in writing smut but as mentioned I do fluff and angst as well.

[timeoverload]

Today was nice. Everything went well and everyone was in a good mood. I spent my morning doing sterrad and I haven't done that in a while. I got to leave 30 minutes early so that was cool.

Earlier one of my co-workers asked for my number just so he could have it in case something happened. I gave it to him because I didn't think he was going to make it weird. I don't mind talking to him but obviously I don't like him like that. I have no interest in dating anyone from work. He is definitely not my type and I'm also 5 years older than him. I'm not interested in being with someone younger than me. He has a hard time being serious. I like to joke around but it is constant with him and it's starting to get annoying. He likes to bring up the fact that he has never had a girlfriend and his parents won't let him move out of the house until he is married. I thought he was just venting because we're all pretty open with each other. I guess I didn't realize what he is trying to do until now. I feel stupid. He texted me a little while after I got home so I would have his number. He also sent me a bunch of weird selfies so I don't know what to think about that. I am a little uncomfortable and I hope he doesn't try to text me all the time. I need to distance myself as much as possible because I'm not trying to give him the wrong idea. He also changed his hours so he could come in earlier so I have to be around him longer so that is stressing me out. I'm glad I don't have to see him for a few days.

Anyway, I don't want to think about work anymore. I am happy to be home. I just wish I could get comfortable.

I called the imaging place to see if I could make an appointment to get my x-ray tomorrow so I don't have to wait and luckily they have an opening at 12:30. I am looking forward to having that done and it would be nice if I could get results by the end of the weekend but I might have to wait until Monday. I got my neck brace and it's not as comfortable as I was hoping. I probably shouldn't wear it even though I want to because it could make my muscle weakness worse. I guess I will have to wait and see what the doctor says. I already know they are going to make me do PT and I hate going to PT. I have always had bad posture so I don't know how I am supposed to correct that now. It is painful to stand up straight and I know that's not right. My neck hurts so bad. I think it is worse than my lower back pain now. I hope it's nothing serious but I am starting to think I have bone spurs because my bones feel like they are pointy and sharp. I don't know how else to describe it. I already know I have arthritis and that can cause them. I am too young to be dealing with all this and I'm scared about the future. I don't want to lose my mobility. I have to be more careful about the activities I do now. Unfortunately it is more likely that I could be paralyzed in an accident since my spine is already damaged. I remember taking care of people who were paralyzed and I have had a fear of that since then.

I wish I had the energy to exercise consistently. I think that would help me a lot. I remember I used to go for a run every day after work for a while and I can't do that anymore. I need to try lifting some weights or something. I haven't gotten my yoga mat out in a long time because I don't have room to do that. I would like to go hiking but I am afraid I wouldn't be able to get around like I used to. I just need to get in better shape and build more muscle.

I think my iron is probably low too. I have struggled with an iron deficiency and anemia most of my life. When I was a baby, I had to have an iron supplement with my formula. A few years ago I was taking an iron supplement every other day but I think I stopped because it was hurting my stomach. I was also drinking a lot at the time so I knew it wasn't good to take those with alcohol. I haven't had a drink in a while so that's good. I probably should start taking iron supplements again sometime soon because they might help.

I feel like I am rambling and I need to go relax now. I think I am going to put an ice pack on my neck to see if that helps. I am glad I don't have to get up super early tomorrow. I'm probably not going to be able to stay awake too much longer because I'm tired. I hope tomorrow is a good day.

I hope everyone else has a good day tomorrow too!!! Thanks for listening to me vent about stuff. :) 💖💖💖

[seoafin]

when it comes to shiv i’m like in between thinking what happened was a better outcome for her or the shittiest one for her. sorry this is random. but like shiv didn’t intend to free kendall n roman she just did the younger sibiling thing (at least how i interpreted) and realized she couldn’t stand the idea of kendall getting it. when she rlly fucking wanted it. like she wanted it to be her or no one. especially as the only girl in a family full of boys you are never not competing like i so get her. so i think she’d rather tom have it cause it would mean by association she’d have it too. something how the only times she allowed power is through the men in her proximity idk. and i do think this in some sense is better for her cause kendall would’ve been a lose fucking cannon we constantly see him promise his sibilings stuff then rip it away from them. at least when tom is talking to hugo n asking for karolina we get a sense that they’re somehow aligned. especially knowing that hugo is kendalls dog and even tho if she just asked kendall to get rid of hugo he wouldn’t done so in a heartbeat. but that’s the thing she didn’t wanna ask. it just fucjing sucks that it HAD to be tom like i hate his ass. it sucks that the dynamic in her relationship ultimately changed like someone said she’s always gonna have an angry man in her house now. idk if tom yet is this amalgamation of her father that the general public has saddled her with cause he still has to answer to lukas n lukas told her point blank he wanted to fuck shiv n my mans just said sure dude whatver u want no it doesn’t bother me at all!! like i still tom is a pussy but i also know that money corrupts n chnages u so that very well could chnage. which is smt i think succesion banks a lot on the idea of giving u the now and letting u guess what happens in the future. i know i just sent a whole essay so i definitely care about shiv but i am to my core a roman girlie so it is kinda nice not to have a dog in this fight idk!!

SORRY THIS IS LATE I JUST SAW THIS

i actually disagree! i think shiv DID want to free kendall and also roman from the cycle of abuse and she did exactly that. i think the phrase that really sticks to mind is the i love you but i cannot stomach you quote from shiv to kendall. i think the saddest thing about it all is the fact that shiv is in the exact position she spent the entire show trying to avoid: being the wife and giving birth to a baby that will probably continue the cycle of abuse (and i think what hints at this is when roman says that shiv is the TRUE bloodline not kendall because kendall's kids aren't his). i honestly think it's a mix of the fact that she didn't want to give the position up to anyone AND she saw what it had done to the three of them. like i'm not going to say she was being entirely selfless but also i do think she loves kendall and roman. and in the ending you could say she's in a position in closest proximity to power in contrast to kendall and roman but it's not an enviable position. she's a mother and wife and that's all she'll ever be. tom is the man she wanted him to be. the man she tried to shape into. i think in a way it's a self fulfilling prophecy in regards to her and tom. also she was never going to escape unfortunately.

and YEAH i don't like tom i might even hate him but i can't even fault him every single person in this show absolutely sucks balls. Except Gerri. I forgive her crimes. She's so hot. like i can't even blame him for doing everything he could do rise to power. he's no different from kendall shiv or roman. he just didn't have nepo baby power. but yeah i think he and greg are two spineless pussies but so is everyone else LMAO

[thatgoblin]

In Which Emery Sees Discourse and Does a Hot Take on Likes, Reblogs, and Comments.

Hot Take: Stop telling people to not Like your stuff and to only Reblog it.

I will not be replying to people who reblog or message me about this take because I don't want to debate/argue about this. That's why I wrote it down in length.

So, you’re a content creator on the internet? Cool! A lot of people are. I am, even though I’ve been pretty quiet in the last year or so, and it’s a rad hobby. I don’t make money from it in any way, shape, or form. It’s just something fun for me to do.

I’ve been doing it for nearly 20 years actually, around the time fanfiction.net and fanfiction.org (RIP) first popped up. I started writing way back in the first grade, about 7ish years old aka 1996. My teachers always complimented me on my work because it was always creative, much more so than most of my peers. Before I even knew what fanfiction was, I was writing Spider-Man and Backstreet Boys crossover fanfiction because I wanted to see that story and knew no one would make it aside from my depraved prepubescent mind. (Don't get me started on the Might Ducks Animated Show fanfiction. That was a different time and place in the early 2000s.)

The more I wrote though, the more I wanted to share these stories. My friends were always in the stories somehow and I would print them out for them to read at school when I got to 5th grade (aka 2000 when I finally got a computer and printer at home.) They liked them and while, yes they were fuckin' wild, they wanted more like this.

So when I discovered I could write stories online and post them for others to read, I was blown away.

You mean people can just write ANYTHING and post it? Fanfiction about Power Rangers visiting Lord of the Rings and fighting Barney? Sign me the fuck up fam! I was also an avid reader of the fanfiction as well, trying to find specific tropes that I loved was hard though. I am a huge fan of the ‘I was sent to my favorite imaginary world and now must save everyone with my knowledge’ plot and was when I was younger too.

Except I didn’t find very many of them. Maybe a handful depending on the fandom or none at all. It was sad and I was frustrated because I wanted to read things I liked as well, so I started my journey into posting fanfiction. I was 12 at the time so while I was able to grasp grammar in general, I didn’t always know how to make words flow or convey an image. It didn’t stop me though. I kept going and slowly but surely was able to write better and better with each post.

Mind you, this was all on fanfiction.net, which is still up and running but a nightmare on mobile, so you could see views, likes, and comments. I would see the views and be disheartened a bit by the single digits after months and even years of the fics being up.

This is the heart of where my Hot Take begins.

I never thought I was owed views, comments, or likes to continue creating.

Yes, I was sad no one read them, but I read them. I still read my own stuff because I wrote for me and continue to. The fics weren’t made out of a need for people to share my work or get poplar or feel included (cause let’s face it, undiagnosed AuDH me did not care if I was included because I could make my own world and was perfectly find with it.)

I wrote because I wanted to write stories I couldn't find, anyone else liking them was just a cherry on top. While I liked sharing my work, including my art, I didn’t do it with the notion that I would suddenly become this well renowned author online. It wasn’t planned to be a steppingstone to anything either. It was an outlet to be able to express myself in ways I was not allowed to out loud in the real world. (again, undiagnosed me in the early 00's with a brother in the military and middle child syndrome was in a WEIRD place.) I wrote for me and me alone.

That’s what I think was lost when people started to become anti-Like on Tumblr. People stopped caring about if they liked their own work and that being enough. If you like your story or drabble or song and no one sees it or reblogs it, you still made something that you like and that’s the point of fanfiction/fanart. It’s for you and you alone.

That doesn’t mean it’s wrong to want reblogs more than likes, but to come out and say ‘Do not Like my story/art, reblog instead because it kills creativity of content creators’ feels entitled to me and sends the wrong image of what creating is.

I want Likes on my things because then I know someone read it or saw it. They enjoyed it. If they reblog it as well, even better, but to come out and push back on Liking posts doesn’t sit right with me. As much as it might suck to hear, you’re not owed reblogs or likes or anything. This isn’t a career or a way to gain status with followers, it’s a hobby that you share with others should you choose to post and even if it was a career you’re still not owed anything because you post it for free. Hobby’s should make you happy in the creation and creation process itself and if people see it when you share it, that’s cool, and when they like it, even better! They shouldn't be discouraged from that and told it hurts the creators to Like something.

Side Note: Tumblr also isn’t the best place to post things and get reblogs/comments/attention. AO3 is the best place for that. Tumblr is fine and it works okay for writing and art, but it’s not made to have an archive of fics or art at your finger tips in a coherent list to show and search like a library.

While yes, it can be disheartening to not get recognition for something you poured hard work into, that doesn’t mean you have to rely on that recognition to continue to create. Your art, writing or other, is not about that, it’s about you and the relationship with the story you’re telling in your chosen medium. The focus on how people will react to or like it should be secondary rather than primary.

If no one reads your 100,000 word fic on Steve/Tony finding a time machine to fist fight a dinosaur or your 100 hrs of work on you digital painting of Harry Styles as a hyper realistic centaur, it still exists. That work you put into it still exists. Your love for that project still exists. Go back and redraw it or reread it yourself, find the enjoyment in the story/art that you had when you wrote it because at the end of the day, everyone else be damned. I love reading my own fics, even if no one does. That’s what matters, not Likes, Reblogs, or even Comments. Just keep creating and yeeting into the abyss and maybe it’ll find someone or maybe it won’t because you found it when you made it.

[thatbanditqueen]

Well, I am going to admit that I am a lousy, yella-bellied fan girl because I had some ideas as to how I would answer this, but wanted to see what you all said and now i have changed my mind about 50 times with permutations of all my favorite ones changing based on mood and reading your responses. I'll confess my first choice was to fuck Tulsa because he is in amazing shape, and goofy fun, I want him to make some of those silly faces as we slap skins. I'm a fan of talking and making jokes while figuring out how our bodies fit together, because sex is absurd and hilarious. I was all set to marry Dr. John Carpenter and run a clean little women's health center in Harlem. And I was ready to kill Charlie Rogers, he's angry and indecisive and difficult and mean and causes traffic accidents pissing people off trying to pick up their daughters riding his motorcycle. He's one of my least favorite characters. I love Vince and Jodie and Ross and Greg and Walter but you know, this was an impossible choice.

That said, here is my answers for where I am tonight....

Fuck: Deke Rivers

My favorite movie is probably Loving You because I can still hear the Mephiss in that home town local talented country boy's voice. If I was younger, I would marry him. But I am an old lady, with a soft spot for this boy with a troubled past who fights without killing 'em, and appreciates the guidance of an older woman. Oh Deke, I'm lonely too let's keep each other company, NSA, and I'll wish you well when you find a good little girl to marry.

Marry: Jess Wade

Y'all just wanna use him and loose him. But I'm ready to move off the grid and ride into the sunset with this rugged cowboy with a heart of gold. The way he walks in those corduroys, his scruffy beard and all that dirt, I'm here with a tub full of hot water to wash you off and bring you into my bed every night. I'm too old to train babe E, I want a ready made man, and we'll never spoil our marriage talking about our sordid lives before we met. I also kind of like that he doesn't sing.

Kill: Chad Gates

I am absolutely ripping off @alienelvisobsession on this one, she proposed killing Tulsa because that was the first campy silly rom com musical that came to be the template for Elvis movies in the 1960s. I love all the 1960s rom coms on principle because I think there is something I could enjoy in every Elvis movie. Movie studios are not factories, and some are better than others because they were made by more talented people. But what kills me is how Elvis felt creatively throttled by the "Elvis Movie Formula," and while it may have started with Tulsa, it was perfected and cemented with Chad. Hal Wallis, Abe Lastfogel and the Colonel had a meeting in Hawaii and decided that Blue Hawaii would be the formula for Presley pictures going forward. Tulsa could have been a one off experiment, or a genre that Elvis dabbled in, but BH and Chad sowed it up for Elvis. Chad is also a bit of a douche in my book. I know you guys love him, and I appreciate E in Hawaii in those tidy whities. But Chad kisses that stewardess knowing Maile is waiting for him, he sings "I Was Always Almost True to You," which is a song I hate it. And one of my favorites, he best song in this movie, you know that one, was thrown away in a scene that had Elvis sing it to a wicker chair. Oh, and Angela Lansbury's hammy absurd performance makes me detest one of my favorite actresses. So yes, Chad Gates MUST DIE.

Ok, this is my answer.... for now. I'll probably change it in the morning.

Fuck, Marry, Kill Elvis Film Characters

Hey, you!

Workday doldrums got you down? Feel like your job is sucking your very soul from you and everyone is off having summer fun while you toil away doing utter work bullshit? You want to leave, but your shoes feel water logged and your head feels like it's full of concrete? Well, this game is for you to cheer you up. Who would you marry fuck and kill from E's fictional film characters?

I am totally stealing this, I saw this game on my feed a few weeks ago and stupid work was dragging me down like it is this week.... I forgot who was playing it but in typical Norah fashion I'll just pretend it was my idea.

Tagging a few people to get us started but anyone can and should play!

@whositmcwhatsit @missmaywemeetagain @be-my-ally @vintageshanny @ellie-24 @from-memphis-with-love@powerofelvis @generoustreemystic @loving-elvis @doll-elvis @richardslady121 @dkayfixates @moonchild-daniella @everythingelvispresley @kingdomforapony @freudianslumber @c-rosenn @deke-rivers-1957 @avengen @prompted-wordsmith and @arianatheangel-girl because I know she loves talking E characters as much as I do!

[starryflix]

Friday the 20th of January 2023

Being allowed to take up space in the room

This is just going to be a small blurb but it is something I realised today when talking to my coordinator of studies. We just had a catch-up talk because of all the health issues I have been dealing with, mainly so that if it will be in the way of my study progression the contact is good and it can soon be fixed.

She just pointed something out that I am aware of but never allow myself to actually take with me in a sense. It’s likely because I am not used to praise and I also realised just now that I still think I am not allowed to take space up in the room. The past months I have been standing out for rather positive reasons, but I am so used to standing out in the crowd because I am the odd one out, the queer traumatised kid in the corner, your typical middle school weird kid, that now that I am getting attention for the more positive views and reasons because people see and appreciate my qualities and interests it gives a sense of discomfort.

Because somewhere the back of my mind is screaming that I do not belong here or that I am not allowed to feel that way. Which is something that has gotten better over time, I do not struggle with it as much anymore but the thought still plays up.

The last three months I had multiple encounters with strangers or people that barely know me where they pointed out my talents and that I and my dad as well did not have to worry about where I ended up. Because I had enough talents that I would find a way. It was a major boost for my own confidence while at the same time causing these confronting ideas of not deserving it.

It all has to do with prior bad experience, I am really really aware of that and I am also keeping this insanely vague and am repeating the same thing over and over but it made me realise how deeply I had internalised the criticism of my peers in my main formative years. How deeply ingrained societies ideas are in my brain and that because I don’t fit the mold and now have found my own shape I still feel the need to bend it somewhere in my brain, trying to find the “right shape”. Which is insane because who I am right now is still the same shape I had when I was younger. Some of the rough corners have been softened and a few pieces have broken off and then desperately tried to be glued back together, leaving a slightly distorted and damaged shape. But that shape is still me. I am worthy of that shape and I need to use the pieces which fit perfectly with those “made for me”, people that boost me and extend on me, that inspire me, to the best of my abilities. Because no matter how odd the shape I know there’s people out there that will fit one way or another or are able to help mend the shitty glue job from a few years prior to be filled a bit more, to be a bit neater. Leaving me in a better condition than before.

That’s what I need to focus on; that’s where I belong, I belong where I fit and it may have taken me two goddamn fucking decades and we’re not there yet but I see a future again and I think that this shape with all its bumps, bruises and glue is worth more than whatever else may still try to break me down to fit in that circle. Because all the oddities made me more experienced in the end. All my different corners fit more diverse people. I am a lasso shape that is had a straight line in one place fitting with a square and on another part I am more curved fitting a circle or an oval. A mediator, someone with the ability to see more people and get along with more people.

It’s a shitty and cringy metaphor but you get the idea by now probably.

I am also just way too tired so this may have a lot of typos lol

[ill-heart]

My brigther sun

I don’t feel so great today, have a lot of anxiety stuck in my chest so I needed to write something soft about traumatize buddies being in love. I’m all about Hurt/comfort, I know.

 Something cute based on a song I love so much, Athena by Orelsan. I tried to translate his beautiful words, hope it’s still good !

I’m not so proud to my writings when I’m tired. 

۩๑ ๑۩

Behind the closed curtains, Jason’s eyes could see the sun waking from its profound sleep. Its ray of light cut out Salim’s silhouette; still dreaming next to his lover’s body.

What is the point of my “I love you”,

If I never told you why

Jason watched him. On so many occasions, he awoke before his lover and found himself observing the curves of his sleeping face, and the beauty of its imperfection. Sometimes, he had put his hands on the darker cheeks and had caress the skin until Salim’s started to leave the wonders of night.

They had insomnia, both of them, due to the horror witnessed by their terrified eyes deep underground. Resting wasn’t easy for their minds, but after a while tiredness took over their bodies and forced them to sleep. Most of the time, it wasn’t pleasant, the creatures stayed close; to be honest, Jason thought they were wandering into the shadows, waiting to bite their flesh, and to kill them.

The Lieutenant was haunt by his memories, and his friends’ shapes who were lost into the house of ashes. He saw them, saw his team coming back to life just to drag him with them. They moved like broken dolls, screamed like the vampires and their bodies didn’t seem human anymore. They became monsters too.

And from time to time, Salim was part of their hideous flock.

When his eyes opened after those terrible reveries, Jason’s shaking body would find Salim’s; just to make sure he was still alive, alive and safe with me. Despite his best efforts, pitiful whines would escape his mouth and would wake his lover. Then, the Iraqi would wrap him with his arms and would hum into his ears to calm his racing heart.

If they were lucky, they would fall asleep again without letting go of the other.

‘Cause you always stayed the same

You have never left my side

Sometimes, Salim was the one suffering from significant nightmares. Jason would feel him shivering next to him and so he would hug him, before kissing his forehead and lips to banish the fear; the worry which danced in his wet eyes.

They were there for each other.

Sword and shield, Salim once said. Sword and shield, Jason never thought he would believe such a concept before. But his lover made sure he would, for he stayed there and stood for the American’s health.

Jason laid his head on his pillow, as his hand found their way on the Iraqi’s hips. The bed sheets molded his manly shapes perfectly, and the younger man wouldn’t help himself but follow the body’s line and falling in love with it; again.

I am aware you’re so insecure,

Your laughter burns me just like the sun

Salim thoughts about himself were tarnishing by deep worries. As years passed, he started feeling ugly: too short, too plump, not beautiful enough to keep his lover satisfy, not strong enough.

But Jason didn’t care about those kinds of things.

He loved Salim, helplessly.

While others didn’t see the truth about the Iraqi, he watched it right into its eyes. He didn’t mind his partner’s round body; all he saw was the chance to love more of him every day. He didn’t mind his laughter that some idiots found too expressive, too deep; all he heard was the softest and the honesty in this husky voice.

You always concede, you are so discreet

Hero of all my old fantasies,

Salim wasn’t aware of his qualities, however Jason repeated himself each day. This man was better than so many others, he was a good listener and for a single father he did everything he could so Zain wouldn’t feel abandon again. He wasn’t a good father; such a thing never existed for Jason. He was a man trying his best, and that was the more important thing about him.

When you are wrong you admit it so easily,

Never forget to say “love you” to your family,

‘Cause you only choose your friends with your heart,

You find the right words when Death tries to suffocate me,

Salim’s mouth let out a sleepy groaning as his eyes started opening. His lover crawled closer; until he felt his heart against his.

Your intelligence is pure, you never use others,

So open-minded when people call out for you,

I could sing about all your inner flaws,

You would only laugh and hit my shoulder,

“Hi.” He said with a subtle smile on his lips.

“Hi...” Answered his lover as rubbed his weighty eyelid, mind and body clouded by the wonders of his dreams. Jason thought Salim was beautiful in the morning, more than any man, more than any woman.

He was the sun of his life.

‘Cause I’m better when you’re around,

You’re guiding me through the night,

Athena

“Did ya sleep well?” Salim shrugged his shoulders, then he put his arms on his lover’s hips as he rested his head against Jason’s chest. “And you, Habibi?”

An undescriptive grin stretched the younger man’s lips. Both knew the answer, ‘cause none of them had a good night since they came back from hell. However, Jason liked to surprise Salim and he loved to become romantic, almost simple, with him. “Better ‘cause ya ain’t far away.”

The black of my soul,

Would never be as profound as your pupils,

Salim’s laugh filled his heart with bright butterflies.

God, he could kill for this sound. He could damn himself just to hear it one more time.

“Better ‘cause ya here.” He added as his hands laid on the Iraqi’s cheeks.

They both shared a look, both smiling despite the dark rings devouring their faces. Their lives sometimes seemed like a nightmare, but at least they had each other.

Jason had those deep and brown eyes to guide him. Jason had the sun by his side.

The dark of my soul,

Will never outlive your brighter smile.

[bokettochild]

For the requests if you're game?

Four and Warriors dynamic since we don't see it much?

Also you're awesome and absolutely don't have to do this if you don't want haha

So, words aren't nice to me today, and your prompt really helped with that. I'm sorry I didn't get to it sooner! But I'm glad I did it today. The verb tenses are a bit off and all over, but I really like the pretense.

For context, this is something that used to happen with me and my dad when he was in pain. I have no clue why it works, but it does somehow? For him anyway. Anyway, as I am the shorty of my family, I figured Four could take my place here :)

“Four, how tall are you?”

Don’t kill him. Green whispered, whether to himself or to his brothers none of them knew.

Why would he even need to know that? The grouchier voice in his head huffed out as hazel eyes shot up to meet the captain’s blue.

Was that particularly necessary? Vio groaned, and if he’d had a physical form the color in question would likely have just flopped over tiredly.

“Four foot four.” They answered curtly, turning their gaze back down to the sword in their hand as they continued to work over its length.

Warriors chuffed out a strangled sort of noise across from them, whether it be from pain, surprise or laughter they didn’t know, and as long as the captain didn’t push, they’d give him a little grace. The poor man was in enough pain as it was, and it really would be a shame to have him writhing on the ground if they kicked him in some... painful places.

“Really?” The man wheezed. “Please tell me you’re joking?”

They rolled their eyes.

Permission to kick him in the nuts?

One minute, let me think about it.

Pities sakes you two, we are not kicking the captain! Vio scolded. We’ll dye his hair while he sleeps or sew a patch on his tunic while he walks or something, not...oy vey.

“I’m four-foot-five.” They corrected aloud. “Happy?”

Sharp eyes met the captain’s again, four voices fighting over whether to cause harm or not. “Huh.”

Guys, look at him! Red huffed. He’s not even able to sit up straight! Give him a break, this one time?

Agreement rang in their mind. Wars was in pretty awful shape. The man had pulled his back while trying to heft a wounded Twilight through the forest the other day, and while he’d insisted the entire time that he had it handled, he’d come to regret it the next day when he woke up nearly too sore to move. They all teased Time about being an Old Man, and it was well known that Legend’s arthritis gave him trouble on some days, but neither the vet not their leader had ever moved as slowly as the captain this morning when they’d been on the road, and Time had had to call an early halt simply because Wars was clearly in so much pain.

The man currently lay on his stomach on the ground at the edge of camp, trying to stretch out his strained back and staring as Four with an odd look in his eyes. “Could you do me a favor?”

Could you not mock our height?

I thought we liked our height?

We do, but we don’t need to be teased for it!!!

“What do you need?” They eventually settled on, setting their sword aside and giving the captain their full attention.

“Stand on my back.” Warriors answered.

They blinked, startled. Once, twice, thrice, four times at the man. “Pardon?”

“Stand on my back.” Warriors repeated himself, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“But-”

Is he bonkers? Captain, we are not cracking your spine to put you out of your misery? Blue frowned, confused.

We’d hurt him doing that, why would he even ask?

This is Warriors, he’s not known for having all the lights on a good day.

“Aren’t you in pain?” Red managed to take the forefront, worry spilling into his voice as he stared down at where the captain lay on the ground.

The man smiled, shaking his head slightly only to wince and instead offer one of his charming smiles. “It helps. Just trust me, ‘kay?”

And what were they supposed to do? Even Legend had stepped up to offer help with the pain this afternoon, not that it would do much good for Warriors’ specific problem, but it had earned the vet a warm chuckle and a head ruffle, resulting in much squawking and insults as the vet protested the action. Wild had searched his slate for supplies to make a cure, and Time had called a halt for the day’s travels entirely. Sky had even offered what little help he could provide, but while offers of aid had come from everywhere, there hadn’t been anything that had worked.

But Wars was claiming that actively stepping on the injury would help it, and as absurd as it sounded, the captain seemed utterly confident in it, eyes almost pleading as they shifted where they sat.

“It won’t, I don’t know, mess up your back at all? Are you sure-”

“Goddesses, Four! It’ll be fine.” The captain huffed desperately, just do it, please?”

Now they understood why Warriors could charm discounts and special deals out of merchants and inn-keepers, his royal blue eyes looked utterly pitiful and almost tearful as they stared up at them, pleading and wide. The effect was ruined though when Wars added a tiny little pout that sent Vio reeling with laughter as Blue and Green stifled their own, Red cooing softly in their head.

“Alright.” The laughter of three of the four colors spilled over in a light chuckle as the smithy pulled themselves to their feet, stepping over hesitantly and setting one foot on Warriors’ stretched out back.

“Go on.” Wars prompted, chuckling fondly. “It won’t hurt me, I’ll tell you if it does, okay?”

That didn’t help at all. They weren’t big, they knew that, but they weren’t as slight as they looked, they were smithies after all, and they were a solid little brick of muscle mass. Warriors may be certain it would be okay, but they sure weren’t.

“Four, I’m literally begging you. Step on me.”

The smithy’s nose wrinkled and they pulled back. “That is incredibly weird sounding.”

“Step.” Warriors ordered.

“This is so weird!” A nervous laugh fell from their lips. “How does this even help?”

“Just do it!” The captain groaned. “It helps, I promise. I can’t explain it, but it does.”

One tentative foot pressed against the captain’s back again, only for the smithy to back off, earning a huff in annoyance from the captain. “Four-”

“Let me take my boots off first.” They murmured, shivering off the awkward feeling that came from stepping on of their brothers. But they could only avoid Wars’ pleading gaze for so long and once their shoes are properly put to the side, they had no valid excuse to not ‘help’ the man.

How does this even help him?

Do we care? We have an excuse to step on him!

Vio, I think you spent too much time around Shadow. Stepping on people isn’t funny.

It’s funny if it’s Warriors. Vio sounded particularly satisfied with himself at the moment, and the others could only sigh at that, finally giving in to the captain's request as Vio pushed the body forwards until they are standing, fully, on Warriors’ back.

“Oh, yes, thank you.” The captain’s voice comes out in a relieved sigh. “A bit lower if you could- that's the- yes, right there. Oh gosh.” Blonde hair met the dirt as their resident “pretty boy” let his face fall to rest on the ground. A satisfied sigh escaping him, albeit muffled by the earth. “That is so much better. Thank you, Four.”

“How does this help?” They frowned, staring down at where the man spread out on the ground, utterly limp and incredibly boney under their feet.

“No clue.” Comes the muffled reply, no attempt made to explain as the captain continued to let himself melt into the earth. “But it always works like a charm, so I don’t question it.”

Always?

“Who do you usually have step on you?” They ask, standing awkwardly on a boney spine any trying their hardest to keep their balance so they don’t slip and tumble onto Warriors’ head and give him a concussion on top of everything.

“My kids.” Comes the easy reply, as if the words don’t send them reeling enough that they almost do fall. “Mask jumped on top of e once to try and wake me up. I wasn’t asleep, but it was a tough battle the day before. Come to find out having a smallish person stand on you does wonders! My younger siblings used to do it too, but then they all hit growth-spurts.”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing.” They chuckled easily, finding a comfortable placement for their feet as Warriors’ back rises and falls with soft laughter.

“Believe it or not,” The captain rumbles, the vibrations trailing up their legs and making them stifle a giggle. “I’m the short one in the family. The eldest, but the Hylia forsaken shortest.” There’s very nearly a pout in the man's voice and they failed to hold back their laughter as they look down at him.

”You’re the shortest?”

“To my eternal torment.” Comes the groaned reply, and all the colors can do in reaction is laugh.

Later, when the others finally look over and see what’s happening, there are shouts and concerned looks from the heroes when they see their shortest standing on the previously sore and aching back of their tallest, but for now, Four gets to tease the captain for being short; something they never thought would ever happen.

Vio cackled madly in the background the whole time, leaving his brothers concerned after the first ten minutes when the color’s mirth failed to fade.

[kashimos-hajime]

homestretch of the hard times | g.t.

summary: the eve days of your potential death kinda spurns things to move forward: for takemura, it means confessions. for you, it means making exceptions. and drinks. ‘cause takemura’s the pickiest fucking eater you’ve ever met.

WARNINGS: small spoilers for act 1 of cyberpunk 2077 and references to non-spoiler texts between takemura and v, just fluff, small angst, swearing, idk what else is going on so if there are actual spoilers thats completely coincedental ndlnskfsldnf pairing: goro takemura x fem!street-kid!v word count: 2.6k

a/n: so cdpr did us dirty for not allowing us to romance him (to my knowledge) but he has my mind, heart and everything else so :) listened to the bones by maren morris w/ hozier

part of the tales of a two-bit thief series

It starts with something straight out of a romance movie: A car crash, saving each other’s lives (well, him more than you) and “Wait, V, I need you.”

You don’t know how you got here, to be precise. There were a chain of events, some absolutely stand up fucking moments on your part, and just… fuckery. So much fuckery and life went to shit.

All you know is the ticking time bomb’s only ticking louder and at this point, the only thing that can silence it at all is the man beside you. Not even the meds Misty gave you can help you now. 

You’re sitting in his car because you called him and he had answered and now… now they’re on one of the off ramps looking over Night City like they own the fucking place.

Maybe you did, once. Ha, maybe back when everything seemed more job to job and not life to life. For a moment, maybe you were in the big leagues.

Takemura doesn’t say anything, even though you can tell he wants to. His hair still pulled into that man bun, collared shirt with not a single wrinkle in sight. Weird how he never looks out of place, not really. Not even with the car crash. Shit, he always looked good.

You think you’re actually gonna miss that. That one semblance of someone being put together that gave you the hope that maybe you could stick it too.

You think you’re gonna miss a lot of things about him—from his stupid complaints about the food here, to his stupid random philosophy texts in the day, to the fact that he eats the ramen you buy anyway without complaint, even though it’ll never compare to what he has in Japan.

The thought that counts.

They don’t even have the radio on, just the dim lights of the car, a window rolled down. You don’t smoke but you feel like you should be tapping a cig either way. You haven’t had the time to just fucking breathe—not with Silverhand breathing down your neck, corpo rats swarming you on all sides. 

Everyone wants a piece of you, it feels like. 

You look at Takemura.

Almost everyone.

“Thank you,” you tell him quietly, with difficulty. It’s hard to get through your words without thinking Silverhand’s behind your back, mocking you. You’re so fucking tired. “It hasn’t been easy.”

He doesn’t respond. He’s too busy looking at one of the cars nearly collide with a pedestrian. You could’ve laughed. You used to make fun of the shitty drivers in Night City, knowing full well you’re one of them.

You get chased by a couple of cops, rules start to bend.

You used to wonder why you never left.

Then, you actually left, and you realized that hell, you can take the person out of Night City—can’t take the Night City out of a person.

Atlanta fucking sucked, but maybe you should’ve stayed there.

But then, a tiny voice whispers as you look out the window to the fresh night wind. You never would’ve met him.

It’s funny, you think. To come back and get a brain tumour in the shape of a rocker who can’t fucking touch anyone who loves him, who he loved, only for you to fall in love with a corpo you can’t fucking touch at all because… because there is no time left. It just isn’t fair.

“I used to be a corpo kid,” you confess, looking at him with a wry smile again. That catches his attention. He looks at you with those eyes that scrutinize you, interrogate you, peel you apart to your bare essentials and you have to look away before you can’t control your face anymore. God fucking damn it. “Not when it mattered, obviously, but… I remember what it was like. Grew up hating every single on of them.”

“Your parents were Arasaka?”

“Mhm. Security division.” It’s like your eyes are magnetic to his because when you blink, you find yourself regarding him again. Your fingers play at your lips. “Counterintelligence. I was supposed to go into that, too. Big dreams.” 

“I see.”

“Yeah, then my parents were tried for treason and murdered, so I got thrown out. That’s it.” Your hand falls away. You pick at the chipped nail polish on your thumb. “Never told anyone that. ‘Cept…” Jackie. Well, he’s fucking dead, now. “‘Cept you, now, I guess. Guess some corpos aren’t so bad.”

The corner of his mouth pinches up like he’s flattered and you can’t help the pleased warmth spreading through your chest. 

“Should I be honoured I am one of the few exceptions you have made?”

“Well, I don’t make exceptions often, so…” You grin slyly. He looks away just as you catch a flash of his smile growing. It’s a nice smile. You wish you saw it more often before the end of the road. Maybe it’s one of the regrets you have, too. “Yeah, maybe you should feel special.”

“Hm.”

“C’mon, Takemura. Humour the walking dead, yeah?” You stretch against the leather of his car seat with a pleased sound. “I’m spending what time I have left with who I want to. Can’t ask for much better than that.” A quiet hangs in the air as you melt against the black leather and you look at Takemura who’s staring at the wheel with an intensity you don’t often see. It makes your gut squirm. 

“And I? I am one of those people?”

You lean on one hip and look at him, bending a knee and resting an ankle on your thigh. He looks at you with an uncertainty—an uncertainty you’re sure echoes in your eyes.

It was business, then it wasn’t. Maybe it never was.

“Yeah. You’re one of the few on the short list.”

“Exceptions again.”

You laugh. “Yeah. You’re an exception to most things, I think. Weird, that.”

“How so?”

“Ah, I don’t know. I’ve had family—still do, ones that matter, you know. Just… no one ever like you, Takemura. Drives me crazy.”

“The feeling is mutual. Your mocking brings you onto thin ice, V.” His fingers tap against the steering wheel. The engine’s off so it seems more fidgety than anything. Weird. You never noticed he fidgeted before. Maybe he’s nervous?

About what?

“I must ask you something.”

“Shoot.”

“If you have a future, what do you see for yourself?”

Your eyebrows shoot up. You frown and pick at your flecking nail polish even more, looking at your hand and focusing more on that so you don’t have to answer your question. His eyes burn into you and you swallow, trying not to act like you haven’t thought, in regret, at night, about a hundred million fucking times the possibilities they could’ve had together.

You’re not about to say all that.

Instead: “Settling down with the family. Mama Welles, people at the Coyote.” You blatantly don’t look at him when you add, “Others. This has been enough action for a lifetime.” You rest your hands on your lap and chance a glimpse at him. He’s looking away from you, out the window on his side, and you shift in your seat. “How about you? You must’ve… had dreams. Before all this shit went down. You make it out of here and then what?”

When he looks at you, your heart nearly cracks at the sadness in his eyes. He smiles, but there is no strength, and his eyes are darker than the night surrounding them.

“I would go to the countryside, just as I’ve always wanted. Leave this, all of this, behind. Rural Japan is beautiful, so a small town would suffice where everyone knows everyone. We do favours for one another. It is community. Nothing like here.” His lips pull into a tiny frown. “When I was a younger man, I wanted a daughter,” is all he says. “I believe I could have been a great father, so perhaps… perhaps one day.”

“A daughter? Not a son?” you ask curiously, and he almost chuckles. You can’t help the faint smile on your face. 

“If my daughter grew up anything like her mother,” he explains with a slight glance towards you, “I would have more hope than a son who was like me.”

You frown.  “You’re not a bad man, Takemura. Any son like you—with your code of honour, your shitty selfie skills—no one’s gotta a chance.”

He merely scoffs in response. Again, with the you mocking him. It’s a wonder he lets you.

“But really, that sounds… nice. A daughter, a wife.” You drum your fingers against your knee and his eyes dart to yours, click like they were always destined to meet, and your lips part. Words stall on your tongue and you want to speak but in the dim lights, you are lost in the darkness of his eyes. Something comes, something goes, and you barely croak out, “Whoever marries you will have to deal with so much of your shit that the kids have to turn out alright. The complaining, for one. Picky eater for another.”

This time, he does chuckle and you swallow a breath at the sound. “Dealing with it comes with practice, V.”

“Is that so?”

“Shouldn’t you know?”

“I—“ For once, no funny retort, no witty quip shoots out of your mouth, and you realize that there is an implication—an intricate dance where they’re struggling not to step on each other’s toes and nearly failing at every turn, yet somehow, it works because they’re dancing, and it’s quiet, and it’s… it’s peaceful.

Shit, you’re getting a load of this. When’d you become a poet?

“I guess I should know,” you finally say. “Never understood why I got so giddy whenever I saw your texts, you know, seein’ your name flash on my phone.” You laugh bitterly. “Guess I know why, now.” He’s silent and you don’t look at him. You look at the dashboard where you’ve kicked your feet up a dozen times, the glove compartment that still has your sunglasses inside.

Shit.

“Thank you for everything. Shit’s a little… more bearable, I guess. When you’re around, that is.” The words come out stilted, awkward, but your heart is so heavy in your throat you feel like you’re going to choke. You look into your lap, your whole body incinerating under what you’re sure is the most judgemental glare of your life and you just hope to fucking God this man says something, does something.

Holy shit. You’re going to die of embarrassment. Didn’t even think that was possible.

Then, a loud sigh. A sigh you’ve heard often enough beside you right before a gunfight or when he has to eat the food you ordered for him or even the nights when they’re exhausted, bruised, and just plain tired right before going to sleep where they lay on the floor.

It’s exasperated, a how on earth did we get here, a very annoyed again, you’re so fucking stupid, and you’re still running through your list on what this particular sigh can mean before a hand gently takes hold of yours. Your eyes dart to his, blinking and he stares at you like you’ve just stabbed him. Your heart is fucking racing in your chest, pounding like thunder. His fingers fold over and you realize, as you interlace fingers, that his skin is burning at your touch. 

Or maybe, it’s the other way around.

They sit there in silence, not looking at one another, looking out windows, parts of the car, everything but each other, and when he squeezes your hand, you close your eyes and swallow your heart.

It’s over.

“V,” he murmurs, voice so deathly quiet and raspy in your ears that your gut clenches. You turn to watch him. “Tell me that you will not stop fighting.” You swallow your breath as his eyes flicker from your own to your parted lips. He inhales quietly and you swear you can feel his heartbeat pulsing in his fingers in your grip. “That this is not all for nothing.”

“It isn’t.“

“Then I was right.” His eyes flutter back to your gaze and he tilts his head. Wisps of fine hair escaping his manbun brush over his nose and you reach up on your own accord, swiping it behind your ear. You lean over the console, your elbow digging into the leather and, tentatively, you trail your fingers down his jaw, hold his face in your hand. “I am… what is that phrase you use so often?”

“SNAFU?”

“No.”

“Assblasted.”

“No.”

“Royally fucked?”

“We need to expand your vocabulary.” You smile nefariously as his other hand reaches for your chin. He pinches it lightly, thumb stretching up to brush over your lips and your face freezes at his touch. “But yes. Royally fucked. I wasn’t wrong when I said I needed you.”

“I think that meant a whole something else back then,” you whisper rawly and he smiles sombrely. His thumb leaves your mouth to brush your cheek, his eyes fixing on you as if he’s trying to memorize aspects of your face: the arch of your nose, the bow of your smile, the way your brow wrinkles. “Meant more business-like.”

“I did. And now, I believe the terms have changed.” He arches an eyebrow. “Are we at a mutual understanding, V?”

“Yes.” And I hate that we are. Your hand along his jaw lifts to wrap around his wrist. “Consider that feeling mutual, yeah? It goes both ways.”

“I will.” Another small smile graces his lips. It makes him look younger every time and you rub your thumb over the back of his hand. 

“Do you wanna grab something to eat before you drive me back home for some shuteye?”

“The choices here are atrocious, V.”

“Then, drinks,” you propose, letting go of his wrist. He lets go of your chin, and turning to face the front, you kick up your feet on his dash. He stares at you for a moment then sighs because there really isn’t anything he can do about it. Nor, do you think, he wants to. You squeeze his hand and send him a silly smile. “How about drinks? I wasn’t hungry anyway.”

“Are you paying?”

You eye him incredulously. “Who do you take me for? You?”

He snorts and the engine roars to life with a flick of his wrist. He grabs the wheel dominantly and you swallow at the way his fingers wrap around the handle. “The Afterlife, then?”

“Or, we could make it rustic.” You pull his hand into your lap playfully and run a thumb over his knuckles. His eyes flit over and you send him a smirk. “I know Mama Welles doesn’t like you, but the Coyote’s serving cheap. Happen to like me there.” He begins to pull out of their little overhang and he nudges their joined hands into your abdomen, silently telling you to buckle in. Rolling your eyes, you mumble out a ‘boomer’ underneath your breath before letting go of him and following orders.

He settles a hand on your thigh and squeezes. You hang an arm out the window. 

The wind’s running through the car, he has the radio on low, and they’re easing through onto the highway.

Your chest is lighter than a feather, mind’s quieter than a ghost.

You’ve seen scarier deaths, dealt a lot more. You know that silence is a bigger killer than most bullets.

But here you are now…

“I’m changing this,” Takemura says. “This music is terrible.”

…Shit, maybe life isn’t so bad, ending the way it is.

[robininthelabyrinth]

What if nmy, jgy and lxc can hear each other thought after they became brother?

ao3

1

Lan Xichen was dreaming.

He dreamt that he was walking along a road, dust on his feet, a small pack on his back, and bruises on his face from where he’d fallen; it felt as if everyone was looking at him, gawking at him, every one of them acting as though they knew everything about him just by looking at him and he hated them –

Do not succumb to rage, Lan Xichen thought, the familiar rule popping into his mind at once.

Rage isn’t the problem, some part of his mind thought back at him. The problem is – why do you care what they think? They’re always going to think something.

They were judging him. How dare they judge him? He’d made something of himself, made himself smart and tricky and capable, but no one cared about that, they judged him, they sneered at him –

Sneering for no reason is prohibited.

Oh for – he just said that they were sneering for a reason.

He did not! The whole point of what he said was that they were sneering because they were unfairly judging him, Lan Xichen argued, and was momentarily amused at himself for arguing with himself in a dream. He would have to write down this dream in the morning and see if he could explore whatever internal strife within him was the cause. And that they weren’t worthy of judging him.

I thought ‘Arrogance is forbidden’?

Are you quoting Lan sect rules at me?

Excuse you both, he was trying to think here!

I’d say brooding rather than thinking.

Lan Xichen agreed with that. It really was mostly brooding, brooding on all the wrongs that had been done to him and paranoia against the whole world. Brooding and walking, walking and brooding –

Like a chicken.

He was not like a chicken. What the fuck. Who the fuck compared lusting for revenge to chickens?

I’m just saying, if you’re going to be brooding, you may as well have some eggs –

Lan Xichen woke up laughing. He still wasn’t sure what the meaning of the dream was, but he did meander down to Caiyi town in order to have some eggs.

He passed it off as a craving.

2

Lan Xichen knew from the first sight of the jingshi how this dream would go.

He would be walking, slowly and gravely, knowing already what he would find: the sight of Wangji kneeling in front of his mother’s house. Only six years old, too young to understand, and yet faced with such terrible loss.

He would go up to him and take him by the shoulder, seeking to comfort him, and he would turn and that would be when Lan Xichen would see his face – dead eyes vacant, blood spilling from his mouth, thirty-three whip marks tearing his back apart and yet that did not seem to be the greatest blow…

The dream never changed.

And so Lan Xichen walked.

He walked, slowly and gravely, and he saw little Wangji, and he –

He’s like a little figurine!

Lan Xichen paused. It was true, of course; he’d had that thought a dozen times before when thinking of his younger brother in his youth. Just not usually in this dream.

One of the expensive ones, his bizarre train of thought continued, utterly nonsensical. The ones you can only get in the shops in the city, all pudgy-faced and red-cheeked with eyes half the size of their face. I always thought those were dreadfully unrealistic.

Perhaps a little.

They’re scary is what they are, another part of his brain thought. Can we get to the part of the dream with all the blood instead?

Seriously?

At least he’s an adult when that happens.

Fair enough.

Wait, hold up, go back, since when am I scared of dolls? I’m not scared of dolls.

Neither was Lan Xichen.

Not dolls. Creepy unliving mannikins in the shape of dolls that are almost but not quite human, that move in stuttering motion that is almost but not quite right, that smile and look at you when they shouldn’t be able to move...

Huh. Apparently I am scared of dolls, the first part of his mind thought, bemused, and Lan Xichen agreed. He’d never known about that particular phobia of his before before, but now that he thought about it, it sounded pretty awful.

He really hoped such dolls wasn’t going to be making in appearance in this dream. It was bad enough as it was.

He sighed, and lifted his foot to continue walking.

Couldn’t you just not go up to him?

What?

That’s a good point. If you already know you’re dreaming, there’s no point in just walking through it.

But…Lan Xichen always went. It’s his brother!

Maybe it’s a creepy doll. Can you really tell the difference?

Wangji was not a creepy doll. How did they get on the subject of creepy dolls, anyway?

No idea. But it’s definitely about as stupid as chickens when it comes to stupid dream thoughts.

Great. Now Lan Wangji – sitting there in all his Lan white – has transmogrified into a chicken, plump with white feathers.

Lan Xichen hoped his subconscious was happy now.

No, this is great actually. No killing livestock within the Cloud Recesses, right?

What?

If he’s a chicken, he’s immune from –

Lan Xichen woke up out of sheer frustration.

(Still better than the usual dream, he supposed.)

3

He was walking through a forest, big loping steps that ate up the ground almost like a run. There were so many things to do, and never enough time to do it in – everything was always a rush, and only the dead had time to sleep.

He was walking through a forest, and the moon was big and bright above his head, shining a dull red in the night sky, a killing moon that boded ill. He could feel the pressure of it on his shoulders like a weight, like an extra presence that never left him; it was both friend and foe, loved and hated, for it would show him the way and rob him of it at the same time.

He was walking through a forest, and he wondered to himself why his dreams recently always featured so much fucking walking.

Oh, no, now you’ve ruined the mood, some part of Lan Xichen’s brain complained, and it might actually be him, come to think of it. I was enjoying that. We were going so fast, it was almost like running.

It wasn’t anything like running.

How did you manage to stop the dream, anyway? Some other part of him thought, sounding almost wistful. You barely got five steps into it before you were making unwarranted comments.

Lucid dreaming.

Was it the moon that gave it away? I’ve never seen it hang so low or so threatening.

It’s not a moon, it’s a metaphor.

All dreams are metaphors, really, Lan Xichen protested, but he was snickering. But also, hold up, look up a second – is it just me, or doesn’t it feel like the moon looking at us?

The moon doesn’t have eyes, the smart voice said immediately. It doesn’t have eyes, so it can’t be – okay, never mind, the moon is definitely looking at us. Also, it’s angry about it.

That was because it wasn’t a moon. He really wasn’t sure what was so hard to grasp about this.

The moon is growling at us! That’s pretty hard to grasp!

If this dream is lucid, can it be changed? Lan Xichen asked, trying to force his dream self to move or dodge or something without success. The moon was getting larger in a threatening sort of way that suggested that it was coming closer. Rapidly. A change would be good right now, really –

I don’t want to be eaten by a moon! I don’t want to be eaten by a fucking moon!

Stop saying it’s a fucking moon already! It’s not a moon! It’s just Baxia!

Lan Xichen opened his eyes and sat ramrod-straight up in bed in a single movement.

“Oh, no,” he said.

4

They met in Qinghe, which had the virtue of being Nie Mingjue’s sole domain in a way Gusu wasn’t yet, for Lan Xichen, and which Lanling was likely never to be for Jin Guangyao.

“All right,” Jin Guangyao declared, stalking in through the doors looking more upset than Lan Xichen had ever seen him. “Which one of you was responsible for the chicken comment?!”

Nie Mingjue coughed.

“I knew it!”

“I wasted a great deal of time on dream analysis after that,” Lan Xichen said, because apparently they were going to be discussing this rather serious issue  affecting both himself and his two sworn brothers in the stupidest way possible and he was oddly all right with that. “I even consulted Uncle.”

Nie Mingjue coughed again, except this time it sounded less embarrassed and more like he was (badly) trying to hide laughter.

Even Jin Guangyao stopped scowling and started having to fight a smile. “Really?” he asked. “You told – about the chickens?”

“He thought it suggested a desire to settle down,” Lan Xichen confessed.

“The man wants grand-nephews,” Nie Mingjue said dryly. “You could dream of anything and he’d interpret it as wanting to settle down. Speaking of settling down, would you both like to do so? There’s calming tea.”

Qinghe had a very specific brand of tea they meant when they referred to ‘calming tea’, imported from the west and south for its reputed use in subduing even the most vicious temper, and it was most definitely not made of flowers. However, as mild intoxicants went, it didn’t have quite the same crippling effect on Lan Xichen as liquor, and he was happy to accept a cup.

“So,” Lan Xichen said after a while. “We’ve been sharing dreams.”

“It certainly appears that way,” Nie Mingjue agreed.

“How do we make it stop?” Jin Guangyao wanted to know.

“I don’t know how it started,” Lan Xichen said. “Much less how to make it stop. Unless this is familiar to either of you…?”

They both shook their heads.

“Could it have had something to do with the sworn brother ceremony?” Jin Guangyao suggested.

“Improbable,” Nie Mingjue said.

“There have been plenty of sworn brotherhoods throughout history,” Lan Xichen agreed. “Someone would have mentioned dream-sharing if it were a side effect, if only because it would be so useful.”

“Dream-sharing?” Nie Mingjue said, frowning. “That’s your problem?”

“It’s useful, but intrusive,” Jin Guangyao said. He was frowning, which he rarely did in public – or even in front of Nie Mingjue these days. The revelation had clearly shaken him deeply. “Dreams can’t be controlled. What if one of us started dreaming about, I don’t know, killing each other?”

“We would agree in advance not to take offense,” Lan Xichen assured him. “As you say, dreams cannot be controlled –”

“I don’t mind the dreams,” Nie Mingjue put in. “It’s hearing your thoughts that’s getting to me.”

They both turn to look at him.

“What?” he asked. “Oh, that hasn’t started for you two yet? Something to look forward to, because it’s a pain.”

5

They ultimately concluded that it was a curse.

A curse gone wrong, of course, but it had the markings of one, and after some research they were even able to narrow down to which one it must have been at the start.

“Why did it go so wrong?” Lan Xichen wondered, looking at the historical records they’d dug up in Qinghe’s library. “Whoever it was surely wasn’t planning on us having this sort of connection.”

“Baxia deflected it, I think,” Nie Mingjue said, and Jin Guangyao and Lan Xichen shared unnerved looks.

It was one thing to know that your sworn brother had a spiritual weapon to which his soul was tied and which he sometimes spoke of as if it were a person; it was yet another to feel that bond, the foreign energy that seeped into his skull at all times, to know that his lucid dreams were due to his persistent awareness of that extra being, to be able to sense the personality that was Baxia lingering on him like a ghost. Or a guai, more accurately.

“It must have happened during or very soon after we swore our oath,” Nie Mingjue continued, oblivious as always to their disquiet. “Our qi was in parallel at that time, binding us together, and she would have been able to spread the attack between us all.”

“The ultimate goal of something like this is to drive someone mad – specifically you, da-ge, since it seems to be hitting you first and hardest." Lan Xichen said, grimacing. And given the Nie sect’s infamous tendency towards qi deviations, they might have thought they could get away with it without anyone finding out…how utterly vile. “Whoever did it must have a great deal of hatred.”

“Or not a lot to lose,” Jin Guangyao said. His hands were gripped tightly behind his back, thumbs digging into his wrists. He seemed to be thinking the word vile, vile, vile on repeat – possibly he was agreeing? Lan Xichen couldn’t quite tell; the curse was affecting him a little more slowly than his two sworn brothers. “Desperate people do desperate things.”

Nie Mingjue looked up with a frown. “Meng Yao, what do –” he started to say, then frowned, having clearly been sidetracked. “You think it’s an insult when I call you that?”

Jin Guangyao, equally distracted, stared at him. “You mean it as a compliment?”

“I don’t exactly like your father,” Nie Mingjue pointed out, sounding a bit puzzled – which, in fairness, he had never been anything but extremely obvious about his disdain for Jin Guangshan. “Why would I think adding his name to yours is a good thing? I’d rather honor the side of your blood that gave you that brain, since it isn’t the Jin sect.”

Jin Guangyao looked flattered – or, no, he didn’t look anything, but Lan Xichen was getting that distinct impression from him nevertheless. It seemed he’d reached the sensing-feelings stage: Nie Mingjue felt a little embarrassed at the reaction, and they were both feeling warmer towards each other.

Maybe they should postpone curing this thing, Lan Xichen thought briefly. If it could help them repair –

“Absolutely not,” both of his sworn brothers said together.

“We’re fixing this at once,” Nie Mingjue insisted, glaring at Lan Xichen.

“Immediately,” Jin Guangyao agreed.

Lan Xichen made a gesture of surrender. “I already have some ideas on how to cure the problem,” he said. “I won’t drag my feet, I promise.”

“Good,” Jin Guangyao said. “I would kill to get rid of this.”

“Speaking of that,” Nie Mingjue said, and he looked like he was starting to get angry, “let’s go back to that discussion of desperate people and how you were thinking about how to kill me –”

6

Lan Xichen had always respected Nie Mingjue – as a man, as a leader, as a friend – but his respect had recently reached new heights when he realized exactly how much the man wanted to murder just about other every sect leader out there, and yet didn’t.

Baxia’s unstinting support for this idea didn’t exactly help.

Jin Guangyao – who Lan Xichen was discovering to be far more vicious than his pleasant smile might have suggested – found Nie Mingjue’s grudge-bearing pettiness to be absolutely hilarious.

What about that one? he asked gleefully. Do we want to kill him?

yesevilkilldestroy, Baxia murmured. doitnow.

Please do not murder Sect Leader Lu, Lan Xichen said. He didn’t think Nie Mingjue actually would, but he felt the need to put his views out there.

I don’t know, Nie Mingjue said thoughtfully. He tried to flirt with me once.

That’s not a crime –

I was ten.

killevildestroy

I’m with da-ge on this one, Jin Guangyao chimed in. Just murder them all. I can provide an alibi.

He could provide six, in fact, each one of them smoothly unrolling like crisp paper in their mutual mind-space – they’d figured out a way to get some privacy – and Nie Mingjue huffed a mental laugh even as Lan Xichen sighed.

It would just figure that his two sworn brothers liked each other much more now that they had access to each other’s secret vicious thoughts – thoughts Nie Mingjue would never act on, given his principles, to the point that Jin Guangyao had once doubted he even had them; thoughts that Jin Guangyao thought would disgust them both, but which Nie Mingjue seemed to rather enjoy as long as Jin Guangyao never took any steps to actually execute them.

What disasters they both were.

“No murder,” Lan Xichen said sternly, futilely trying to conceal the warmth of his affection for them both.

His uncle turned to frown at him. “Xichen?”

Lan Xichen realized he’d spoken aloud by accident and flushed. “Forgive me, Uncle. I was –”

Reciting Lan sect rules!

“– contemplating the obligation not to take lives unnecessarily,” Lan Xichen said, finishing the lie almost smoothly. He’d gotten much better at it ever since the curse began.

Somewhat worse at self-restraint, though, which was a problem because he was apparently the only one of them with a functioning moral compass – Nie Mingjue had principles, which were most emphatically not the same thing (the concept of unearned mercy seemed to puzzle him, as did sympathy for people forced by circumstance), and Jin Guangyao…

Well, he tried.

Sometimes.

Mostly he faked his way through it.

Which was about what Nie Mingjue apparently did most of the time, too, so…

Lan Qiren was giving Lan Xichen a doubtful look, but seemed to accept the explanation and returned to his own meditation. Which was Lan Xichen was supposed to be doing, but Nie Mingjue was dealing with some minor sect leaders in his district with accompanying commentary by Jin Guangyao (supposedly supervising something in Lanling but actually bored out of his mind), and it was just so much more interesting…

You can meditate later, Nie Mingjue thought at him. I appreciate your level-headedness – as do my advisors. I’ve been getting compliments on how well I’m keeping my temper.

Thank A-Yao for that, Lan Xichen said. He’s the sneaky one.

I am, Jin Guangyao said, utterly shameless. And da-ge’s the straightforward one who punched my father in the face.

They all had a collective moment of gleeful bliss at the memory.

Do not damage others, Lan Xichen finally reminded them, albeit reluctantly.

Do not keep company with evil, Nie Mingjue shot back.

Do not act impulsively!

Do not argue with your family, Jin Guangyao interjected. For it does not matter who wins.

…ouch.

He got you there, Nie Mingjue crowed. A-Yao – mark your words.

Yes, yes, Jin Guangyao grumbled. I acknowledge you both as my real family now; will you stop holding the attempted murder thing over my head?

No, never, since it was quite possibly the only way to squeeze any empathy out of his (charmingly) self-absorbed sworn brother.

Anyway, it turned out well in the end, didn’t it? Nie Mingjue added. He thought I hit him because it turned out that he’d instigated the curse to be set against us.

Only you would end up getting a confession out of punching someone, da-ge, Lan Xichen said, amused. It’s positively unfair to the rest of us.

Yeah, da-ge. Leave some luck for the rest of us.

You’re acting sect leader of Lanling in light of your father’s imprisonment, Nie Mingjue reminded Jin Guangyao. How much more luck do you need?

I got that through hard work, thank you.

killevilliesLIES

…I retract the statement and request that Baxia stop glaring at me. Please.

Nie Mingjue snickered.

Lan Xichen laughed.

“A-Huan,” his uncle said. “What on earth is so funny?”

Lying was forbidden, so Lan Xichen was just – not going to explain.

Ever.

[queenshelby]

A New Life

Part Ten: The Hunt

Pairing: Cillian Murphy x Reader

Words: 3,154

Warning: Smut

After about twenty minutes and you finally managed to get dressed, the doorbell rang and Cillian’s sister arrived to look after the children.

Cillian’s sister was in her early thirties and currently pregnant with her second child. She had kindly offered to look after Max and Cian’s children and, after you had met her already a few weeks ago, you thought that this was a good idea since Max wouldn’t be able to walk the whole 12 km you had planned.

Max was excited to see her and Cillian’s young nephew who, recently, had turned four was going to spend the day with him and the other children.

‘Good to see you again Y/N’ she said, greeting you with a hug and you recalled the last time you had met her at Cillian’s house when him and Cian were making dinner. It was obvious to you that she liked you and, even more so, it was obvious to her that you liked her brother and that this feeling was mutual.

‘Good to see you. How was the drive?’ you asked, knowing that she was travelling from Cork, which is where she lived.

‘Pretty good actually. I went to see mum and dad last night for dinner and stayed there’ she pointed out, looking at Cillian as she did. It was obvious to you that she was teasing him, but you didn’t know what about.

‘I got the message, thanks’ Cillian chuckled and, just as he did, his sister pulled him aside.

***

‘You know what I am about to say’ she said to Cillian in private so that no one else could hear them.

She had been trying to get Cillian to ask you out for two weeks now, but he outright refused.

‘And I told you that I am not interested in dating. Despite, she’s twenty years younger than me’ Cillian pointed out again after having made the age gap between you and him quite an issue.

Of course, his sister didn’t know that you were, in fact, sleeping with each other but, this didn’t change the fact that neither of you were wanting to be romantically involved with anyone right now.

What his sister did, however, know was how you both looked at each and how much Cillian enjoyed your and Max’s company. Unbeknownst to you, she had flagged with Cillian several times before and simply wanted him to be happy.

‘Think about it Cillian, she’s young which means that she probably still wants children. Despite, you wouldn’t be the first actor who dates a younger woman. Apparently, it is quite common’ his sister said, grinning cheekily.

‘You need to stop it’ Cillian chuckled. ‘Did Ma put you up to this?’ he then asked somewhat amused after she begged him during his last visit to Cork to find someone, settle down and give her some more grandchildren.

‘Maybe’ his sister grinned in response before carrying on. ‘She said that, perhaps, you just need a little a bit of help’ she then said, causing Cillian to chuckle again before sighing in disbelieve.

‘Ma thinks I need a little bit of help with finding a woman, eh?’ he asked somewhat amused and his sister nodded with a wide smile.

‘Yes, and I have something in mind to help you along’ she went on to say before dragging Cillian back into the kitchen.

Cillian’s sister was into boardgames and a little nerdy, just like her brother. She had recently started a business and was organising parties and fun activities for children and adults. This, amongst other things, included murder mystery parties and escape rooms and she he had a little surprise prepared for your hike as well with the help from your brother Cian who was about to bail on the adventure.

***

‘Listen up folks! I am trialling out a new little business idea and you will be my test objects. I am sending you all on a scavenger hunt’ she announced with excitement, causing Cillian to cock an eyebrow.

‘Seriously?’ he asked, unimpressed. He was tired enough as it was and didn’t want to spend the entire day looking for cues.

‘I suppose we better form teams then’ Laura said, looking over towards Cillian who was still preoccupied with his second cup of coffee and didn’t notice.

‘I have already set up three teams and each team will get an envelope with separate sets of instructions. At the end, you will all meet at the same place but you will get there via different ways. The first team to arrive will win’ she explained before handing out the envelopes.

‘Well Y/N, it looks like you are stuck with me for the day’ Cillian said as his sister handed him a green coloured envelope with both of your names on it and you couldn’t help but get a little excited about it all.

You would be spending the next five or six hours with Cillian and you were rather happy about that.

Laura, on the other hand, was disappointed that she was paired up with Evelyn while the other couple at the house was paired up with each other.

***

After addressing a few housekeeping matters and putting on your hiking shoes, each team made their way to the nearby reserve which is where you all had to split up.

Cillian and you were headed south and, after a twenty-minute journey, you questioned Cillian’s navigation skills.

‘Are you sure this is the right way?’ you asked, curious as to whether Cillian knew where he was going.

‘Yes, I am sure. Trust me, alright?’ he confirmed and you nodded and agreed to simply follow his lead. You were way too tired to argue with him and, ten minutes later, were glad that you didn’t as, sure enough, you arrived at the trail referenced inside the envelope you were given.

As you arrived at the trail, the crisp air was blissfully quiet and the area almost seemed deserted. You were surprised that it didn’t attract more tourists but Cillian told you that it was simply too early in the day.

The peace and quiet could almost be felt even as the cool morning breeze wafted through the trees and gently stirred the still morning air.

‘I am fairly sure I know where the first cue is’ Cillian then said as you began walking down the trail still rugged up in long pants and jackets and, when you were sure that really no one was around, you took hold of his hand.

You weren’t sure whether you should have done that or whether it was inappropriate since you weren’t dating, but Cillian quickly confirmed with a kiss that it was alright.

‘I actually like the fact that it is just us for the day walking through these woods’ Cillian then chuckled after your lips drifted apart and he didn’t really appear pressed for time.

‘And why is that?’ you asked cheekily and with a big grin on your face.

‘So, I can keep doing this’ he responded before kissing you again, this time more passionately.

By this point, you were less than an hour into your journey and already lost some time simply by stopping and kissing each other but a kiss wasn’t all you wanted.

‘Is kissing all you want to do while we have this time alone together in the woods?’ you asked while suggestively biting your lip and Cillian couldn’t help but laugh.

‘I suppose I am not very competitive and don’t care if we win or lose so, if we find a quiet and secluded area then, by all means, we can do whatever you want’ Cillian said with a wink and you eagerly nodded before pulling him close again.

‘Hmm how cheeky Mr Murphy’ you giggled and, sure enough, about twenty minutes later, you arrived at a rather secluded area which is also where the next cue was hidden.  

You bent down to pick up the cue and you could immediately feel Cillian’s eyes on your ass when you did.

By this point, you had removed your jacked and stuffed it into your backpack which caused more of your beautiful skin to be exposed.

‘Are you staring at my ass?’ you asked cheekily before reminding Cillian that he was meant to read the next part of the instructions inside of the envelope.

‘Of course not’ he chuckled in response as he was still trying to catch his breath after having walked uphill for quite some time.

‘Out of breath, are we old man?’ you then teased but Cillian wasn’t amused.

‘Call me that again and you are in trouble’ he said before telling you that he was a little out of shape after having missed last weeks’ PT sessions and, just as he did, you pulled him close for a passionate and long kiss.

With a mischievous look, you leaned into him, took the envelope out of his hand and ran your hand over Cillian’s crotch.

‘It looks like this guy isn't out of shape. To the contrary, he seems to be perfectly healthy’ you smirked before pushing Cillian against the large tree in front of which he was standing.

‘He is very eager and active, that’s for sure’ Cillian laughed just before you began to unbutton and unzip his pants in order to free his hard member.

‘Jesus Y/N’ he then groaned as you began to stroke him gently while keeping an eye out to ensure that no one was watching you.

But your sense for your surroundings soon vanished when Cillian pulled you even closer for yet another passionate kiss.

As the kissing furiously escalated you became soaking wet and needed to feel Cillian’s cock inside you. Breaking contact, you quickly turned around and suggestively leaned forward against one of the large rock formations.

There were no words needed and Cillian quickly grabbed hold of your tights and pushed them down your legs along with your panties.

‘So fucking wet again’ Cillian observed with a husky voice as his fingers brushed against your wet folds, collecting some of your juices and spreading them before he lined himself up with your entrance from behind.

‘Well, I am always aching for you, you should know that by now’ you said, wiggling your ass to encourage him to slide inside you.

Then, all of a sudden, you let out a loud cry as, with one swift thrust, Cillian’s cock smoothly penetrated you and entered your waiting pussy.

‘Shh’ Cillian reminded you as each slow and agonising thrust elicited protests from you to speed up but he ignored them with a smirk and proceeded at a painfully slow pace, making sure your body and pussy felt each deep impact.

Coated by your slick juices, drops of your sweet nectar began to drip from Cillian’s cock with every thrust and you could hear him groan behind you, watching his cock impale on your pussy.

‘You are so fucking sexy in those hiking clothes’ Cillian observed and, hearing your soft but growing moans in response, caused him to increase the force and speed of his thrusts.

‘Oh god Cillian, fuck’ you moaned and, eventually, he leaned forward and gave your ears a playful nibble before taking your hands into his so that your entire body weight was balanced solely by his hands and cock.

As he began to speed up and thrusted into you earnestly with the full length of his cock your assets began shuddering from the forceful pounding.

You loved hearing Cillian’s soft growls and he loved hearing your heated moans as you were fucking like animals in heat and your rough but yet passionate love making had been quickly building up to a climax.

‘Oh god Cillian, cum inside me. I want to feel it, all of it’ you moaned as you became louder and more desperate.

‘Not yet’ Cillian said determined as your lustful moans echoed throughout the forest and no doubt spooked some animals. Instead of continuing his assault on your pussy, he pulled his dripping and erect cock out of your warm wetness, leaving you once again to pout and beg in desperation.

‘Please no…Cillian…fuck…’ you huffed out as you turned around to look at him in confusion.

Your plead for more was met with a grin and then a kiss which was passionate but not as heated as the last.

‘Common, let’s keep going and find another cue first’ he said, pulling up his pants and covering his erection as best as he could after your lips drifted apart.

‘Cillian, I am fucking soaking. I need to cum’ you said, disapproving of his teasing, but he enjoyed it way too much. It was his game.

***

An hour and two cues later, you found yet another perfect love making spot deep inside the forest.

‘This perfect, there is no one around and the area is covered with bushes’ you observed just before your lips met with his, demanding him to take you and make you cum without saying anything else.

Cillian nodded and, without words, you both somehow stumbled over to a flat rock not too far from the marker indicating the direction of the trail.

Covered by dense vegetation, this large, smooth rock seemed perfectly suited as a bench for groups of people. For the two of you, though, it was just the perfect place for other activities...

As you sat down on the rock Cillian bent down and proceeded to give you what you deserved.

‘These will need to come off’ Cillian said, kneeling before you and tugging on your tights.

You quickly undid your hiking shoes and then pushed them off before allowing Cillian to remove yourtights and panties.

‘Let’s hope no one comes down this way, eh?’ he then smirked but you no longer cared and pulled him close, desperate to feel him inside of you once again.

Spreading your legs apart, he leaned above you and took you in fully with his eyes. Your smiling and blushing face, cheeks and pussy reddened with arousal turned Cillian on immensely. Your hard nipples poking through your exercise top, heaving with each breath were a sight he knew he would remember forever. And your shy but warm hands, gripped Cillian’s hand with great trust as your shining eyes encouraged him to take you right then and there.

Cillian unbuttoned and unzipped his pants again, pushing them down together with his briefs before aligning himself with your entrance.

Without hesitation, he took a deep breath and plunged straight into your tight wetness as a whimper escaped your quivering lips. Cillian was pushing in firmly and pulling out in an agonisingly slow manner. This only increased the pleasure and soon your bodies were moving in tandem like a well-oiled fucking machine as grunts and moans filled the air.

Cillian was joyfully fucking you as his cock pounded against your pussy and relentlessly assaulted it as your dueling tongues enticed each other to hotter and deeper kisses.

His thrusts soon fastened but, just as you were about to approach a hastening climax, he slowed down again. Although fucking you senseless was what his body yearned to do as he saw your heaving body under him shining with sweat, his reserves of self-control still held.

Pushing in deeply so that you could feel his warm cock filling you up, he remained in you for a short while before pulling out completely.

As you gazed at him with pleading eyes, he smirked, then leaned in to kiss you before slamming his cock unexpectedly into your waiting pussy starving for more.

Again and again, he followed this process of pushing deep into you, holding it there so you could feel such fullness, before pulling out completely and leaving you yearning crazily for the next thrust.

Taking you to new heights of pleasure with each deep impact, he began to speed up unconsciously as your moans and hot pussy walls rapidly eroded his self-control.

All too soon, he felt the climax approaching inevitably. Even as your bodies were lost in pleasure, however, your ears picked up the murmur of early hikers at the summit not too far from where you were. And yet, Cillian’s cock began to pound you harder and faster with increasing urgency and desperation.

‘Don’t you dare fucking stop now’ you moaned quietly and Cillian certainly couldn’t stop even if he wanted to. Placing both hands on your shoulders, he forcefully pushed down as his hips returned from their swing and thrusted firmly upwards into you. Impaled on his thick and painfully erect shaft, your pussy lips widened, as did your eyes.

‘Oh god yes’ you moaned as your climax was approaching fast and hard and you began to quiver.

With a groan, Cillian reached his high at the same time as you. His cock was exploding deep inside you, filling your waiting pussy with sticky ropes of hot cum. Even as your pussy walls convulsed with pleasure, they were quickly painted white with his swirling cum while trying their best to milk him dry of every drop.

Wrapped in a deep kiss to muffle your moans of pleasure, you could hear the nearby crowd approaching and, at the sound of the cracking of some sticks, Cillian quickly pulled out of you and helped you up from where you were lying.

Seeing your sore and well-used pussy dripping your juices and his thick cum made Cillian inhale sharply before he pulled up his pants.

You were quick to get dressed yourself before anyone would see you and, sure enough, minutes later, the small group pf hikers found your little hiding spot and greeted you.

***

After another few hours following your small detour deeper into the woods in order to get some intimacy, you finally found the last cue which led you to a small local pub.

You weren’t surprised when you learned that you were, indeed, the last team to arrive at your destination.

‘Did you guys get lost or something?’ Cian asked when you both finally sat down at the table and ordered two pints of Guinness.

‘We just took our time. Those cues were tricky’ Cillian chuckled which is when Evelyn informed you that you arrived an entire hour after she did.

‘I had to stop and take some sightseeing photos as well’ you then told her, cheeks blushing red while you were already thinking about how you would be sneaking into Cillian’s bedroom that night.

   Tag List:

@lilymurphy03@deefigs @theflamecrystal @desperate-and-broken @weepingstudentfishhorse @livinginfantaxy @rosey1981 @atomicsoulcollecto @peakyboyslover @nerdy4itall@elenavampire21 @hanster1998@mariapaiva13 @fairypitou @harry-is-your-sunflower @zozeebo @lauren-raines-x @kasaikawa @littlewierdalien @sad-huffle-nerd @theflamecrystal @peakymalfoyscullymulder @themissthang@0ghostwriter0 @stylescanbeatmyback @1-800-peakyblinders @datewithgianni @momoneymolife @ntmynouis @lilymurphy03 @mcntsee@cloudofdisney@missymurphy1985 @peakymalfoyscullymulder @otterly-fey @janelongxox @uchihacumdump @basiclassy @being-worthy @chaotic-bean-of-smolness @margoo0 @chocolatehalo @vhscillian @ysmmsy @littlewierdalien @crazymar15  @stickyknightflowerbailiff @im-constantly-fangirling @goldensunflowe-r  @tellingyouastory  @captivatedbycillianmurphy​  @namelesslosers​  @littlewhiterose​  @ttzamara​  @ttzamara @cilleveryone  ​

@peaky-cillian​

@severewobblerlightdragon​  @ysmmsy​  

[comfortwriting]

The Little Things - B.W

Masterlist, Writing Prompt Masterlist, Requesting Rules

Bill Weasley x Fem Reader

Requested/About: After the Wizarding war and the death of his younger brother, Bill Weasley focuses on the little things in life and realises that life is too short to waste it; the death of his brother gives him the confidence and courage he needs to confess his love to Y/N. 

Warnings: Mention of death, blood, swearing, mention of weight loss.

"I miss you Bill" you sighed down the phone "Are you sure you can't make it?"

Bill held the strange muggle device in his hand, both guilt and fear consuming him "Yeah" he replied, "But I will next time, I promise."

You knew this was a lie, and although it hurt, you couldn't stay mad at him - Bill had every right to shield away from the world, question everyone's intentions, and stay closer than ever to his family, but you knew that over time, it would only make things worse.

When you first heard the news of Fred's death, like many others, you were gobsmacked. The tragedy of his death changed everything - especially the man you loved most. Bill could no longer see the world in colour, he hated to smile, he couldn't laugh, looking at George felt worse than any injury he had suffered at work. He felt alone, broken, guilty, and worst of all, he didn't feel like himself anymore.

He lost motivation and passion for his job and couldn't bring himself to leave his house, even talking on the phone sometimes became too much for him, and your letters piled up on his windowsill, all read and crumpled, his replies screwed up into parchment balls scattered across the floor.

"Look after yourself, Bill." you said softly "Goodnight."

"Goodnight Y/N."

Bill felt relieved to finally come off the phone, but the crippling loneliness had hit him like a curse. Hanging up the phone and placing it back on the stand, his mother Molly, watched him, studying his scarred face.

"She cares for your dear, please don't push her away," Molly called out softly, approaching her firstborn and stroking his long hair which was pushed back into a messy ponytail, his dangling fang earring started to swing.

Bill nodded, too ashamed to look his mum in the eye "I know" he replied "Everything is just so different."

The familiar tears pooled into Molly's kind eyes, her lips trembled, the sight of Fred's dead body flashing back before her eyes. "It's strange not having him here, it's too quiet, but don't blame yourself" she cried "He died with a smile on his face."

Bill shook his head, tears of his own ran down his hot cheeks "I'm his big brother" he cried "It was my job to protect him, I can't lose anyone else."

Molly held her son close, crying and shaking her head "You aren't to blame, Bill, please don't let this take over your life, Fred wouldn't like it, none of us do."

"But I'm - I'm terrified."

"I know you are dear, but death is part of life, you can't let death stop you from living your life to its fullest." Molly sighed as Bill pulled away from the hug.

"I'm trying, I really am, mum."

Bill walked away and went upstairs into his bedroom, photographs his brother Charlie sent him of Dragons flying and breathing fire didn't evoke a smile or happy memory, instead he wanted to rip them off the walls and curse himself for not being by his little brother's side on the night he died. Bill felt useless, a waste of space, he felt as if he was the worst wizard in the world, he kicked the parchment balls across the floor and fell onto his knees, crying, talking to Fred who couldn't hear him or respond.

After your last phone call, you went days, weeks, and months without hearing from Bill. Your phone didn't ring, your owl didn't bring any letters with his handwriting on, and from what you heard, he had been fired from his job. You rang every day, but as time passed, you rang once a week, then once a month, then not at all. You stopped writing to him, you felt like you had made him worse like you had scared him off so badly that he felt too pressured to talk to him, but your gradual absence only made Bill feel worse, he felt as if he pushed you away, doing what his mother told him not to.

Maybe Bill wanted and needed a fresh start, away from you and away from everyone, perhaps he took a break and went to Romania to visit Charlie who took his mind off things with work. Part of you wanted to storm over to him, bang down the door and take him under your wing whether he liked it or not, but the bigger part of you felt like leaving him alone was the right thing to do.

Reaching your parchment and dipping your quill into your ink pot, you began to write to Molly, if you weren't able to care for Bill, you still wanted to watch over him from a distance, something Fred did when he wasn't comforting his twin, George, who didn't know he was there.

Molly,

I miss you, I miss everyone, I miss Bill.

I've tried reaching out to him but I don't think he wants to talk, I want to help, to comfort him, and do anything I can to bring a smile on his face, but I think he would rather be alone - and that's okay, I respect his wishes, but I just need to know how he's doing.

I can't tell you how strange this all is, I can imagine you can't put this all into words either, I am so so sorry for your loss, Freddie... Fred was the funniest person I've ever met and he always made me feel better, even if I wasn't in the mood for his pranks or jokes.

I want to be here not just for Bill, but for all of you. I want you to know that you can write to me, even ring me if you need anything (Arthur isn't the best with the telephone, but Bill has somehow mastered it, but I can understand your disapproval so writing back is fine) I miss you, I miss The Burrow too, spending my school holidays under your roof were the best times of my life and it's one of the worst things about being a grown-up.

Please let me know if you need anything or if there is anything I can do, please send everyone my love, I can't imagine what you're all going through.

Nothing but love,

Best Wishes,

Y/N.

Wiping the tears from your eyes, you folded up the parchment and placed it into the envelope, pausing before you sealed it with wax. Looking over on your right and focusing on the photograph in the picture frame of you and Bill posing as Head Girl and Head Boy, with big smiles on your faces and your badges sparkling against the flashing of the camera. This was the only picture you had of you and Bill, and although you got comfort watching that moment in time replay over and over, it made you feel sore inside, causing you to wince.

Picking up the picture frame and holding it in your hands, you removed the back of it and pulled out the picture, putting it inside of the envelope. Setting the frame back down, you finally sealed the envelope and watched the hot dripping wax mould into shape, cool down and dry. You picked up the envelope and walked downstairs, meeting your owl by the window in your front room.

"Please post this for me," you said softly "It's very important and precious."

Your large fluffy owl tilted its head before taking the letter in its mouth and flying out of the window as you opened it, watching them fly away in the distance, you couldn't stop yourself from reminiscing about Bill and the memories you made together as teens - little did you know, whilst Bill curled up on his bedroom floor, he too was thinking exactly the same thing.

"Bill!" You grinned, running over to him and hugging him, admiring his hair "Your hair has grown so fast! I love it!"

Bill smiled "I'm glad you like it, mum can't wait to see the day I chop it all off."

You ruffled his soft, shoulder-length hair and looked at his new timetable "oh nice!" you chirped "looks I don't have Herbology on my own after all!"

Molly opened the envelope and read your letter, covering her mouth to keep her cries silent, your kind words taking weight off her chest and placing a caring arm around her shoulders. She picked up the photograph and tears pricked at her eyes, the sight of Bill so happy brought her the comfort she so desperately needed.

"You need a bloody hair cut!" Molly freaked upon her son's arrival at the station.

Bill groaned out in frustration and rolled his eyes "No I don't, mum! I like it long!"

You smirked and burst out into laughter, Molly greeted you and pulled you in for a hug, making her husband Arthur pick up your trunk. Bill's younger twin brothers stared at you, smirking, muttering to one another.

"What do you think about his hair, Y/N?" Molly asked you, hoping you would be on her side "I think if it ends up any longer Hogwarts will be sending me letters!"

You pursed your lips and couldn't stop yourself from breaking out into a grin "I quite like it."

Bill smiled at you "See! The girls love it!"

You rolled your eyes and elbowed Bill in the arm playfully.

Hearing a crash in Arthur's shed, Molly quickly lept on her feet, rushing to see what the commotion was all about and to tell off her husband for his muggle tool and plug collection, leaving behind the letter and photograph on the dinner table.

"Oh go on Y/N, give me the answers, we've been studying for hours now!" Bill begged, glaring at his now crumpled O.W.L styled mock paper.

Bill's cheeky smile and puppy eyes made you cave in faster than you liked to admit.

"Fine, here are the answers."  You passed him your test papers, knowing fully well that he would be in big trouble tomorrow.

Bill walked down the stairs, tempted to pick up the telephone and ring you, but his eyes landed on the letter and photograph before the telephone. He stared at the photo, the memory as clear as day in his head.

"You'll never guess what!" You squealed.

"I've got some news!" Bill beamed, both of you speaking at the same time.

"You go first!" you encouraged him, excited to hear his news and tell him you had been made Head Girl.

"Guess who became Head Boy!" He grinned, pulling out his badge and handing it to you "Mum and Dad are going to be so bloody proud!"

You couldn't believe it, your best friend and you were head of the school - together, this HAD to be nothing more than a coincidence, it HAD to.

"Oh Bill" you grinned "that's wonderful - but -"

"But what?!"

"But this is all so strange."

"What?" His face dropped "Please don't make this about my hair, mum's sent me enough letters this term-"

"It's not about your hair you idiot!" You laughed "This is strange because I've been made Head Girl." You pulled out your badge, presenting it to Bill whilst it sat in the palm of your hand.

"No way."

"Yes, way!"

Bill couldn't sleep that night, he read the letter over and over in his head and watched the two of you posing in his mind. He rubbed his eyes so hard he could see tiny stars, opening his eyes he walked over to the mirror and stared at himself, he couldn't recognise himself anymore. His hair was straggly and hadn't been brushed in months, his facial hair was stubbly and rough, the bags under his eyes were dull and heavy, and his face had become more sunken in.

His mum was right, he couldn't stop living, he shouldn't push everyone away and shut himself off from everyone around him, he needed to keep going, no matter how hard things got, he had to keep pushing, further and further, he needed to get himself back on track.

Leaving his bedroom, Bill challenged the many steps and went into the bathroom, taking a long, warm bath. He scrubbed his skin, washed his face and hair and got out, staring at himself again in the mirror, he shaved off his ginger prickly stubble and grabbed a hairbrush. Detangling his hair and brushing it after neglecting it for so long, he picked up the scissors and slowly started to chop off his split ends and adding layers. He trimmed his eyebrows and stared at himself in the mirror, by morning he was going to get his job back, he was going to tell you how he felt, if he were to ever lose you, he would rather have a relationship beforehand, rather than settling with 'what could have been'.

Bill walked out of his room, as fresh as a daisy, in his suit, he picked up his briefcase, shocking the rest of his family, most of all his mum.

"You were right mum." Bill admitted, "I'm going to get my job back, and I'm going to see Y/N."

Y/N,

Thank you ever so much for writing to me, dear, your words have lifted me up tonight and the photo you have sent me is something I will treasure.

I know you aren't a child anymore, and I know you're an adult, but you will never be too old to stay under Arthurs and I's roof. We could do with some company, a good catch up, anything to keep our mind busy.

This home - this house - is so awfully quiet since Fred

her quill trailed off  

left, the occasional door will slam and Arthur keeps wreaking havoc in his shed but the absence of Fred's laughter and his footsteps pounding up and down the stairs are so terribly missed.

Bill isn't doing so good, Charlie is doing the best out of all of us.. and George, poor George. Please do pop round for a cuppa or just for a chat, even if Bill won't come out to chat I'm sure everyone else will be so happy to see you.

Don't be a stranger, Y/N.

Love,

Molly Weasley.

Drinking your cup of tea and staring out your kitchen window, watching the birds sing and search for food in the back garden, you heard a knock at the door, finishing off your brew and placing your floral cup in the sink, you walked over to the door and opened it, lost for words at who was waiting for you.

A slimmer and more gaunt Bill stood on your doorstep, a bouquet of roses in his hand, his hair pulled back into a loose ponytail and his suit looking elegant. You were heartbroken to see how Fred's death had taken hold of him physically, and you were more heartbroken knowing what he was going through mentally. For him to be stood on your doorstep, making an effort, truly was above and beyond anything you expected, and you were so proud of him.

"Bill!" You pulled him into a tight embrace, wrapping your arms around him and nuzzling your face into his neck "I can't believe you're here, I, I've missed you so much!"

Bill held you in his arms, soaking up your scent and the touch of your soft skin, the tiny pieces of his heart slowly piecing back together. He pulled away and handed you the flowers "These are for you"

Accepting the roses, you invited Bill inside and put the kettle on, making tea for the both of you, he sat himself down on the sofa, going through everything he wanted to say, feeling nervous and hoping that you would understand and feel the same.

You placed your cups on your coffee table, sitting down next to him, looking back at the gorgeous new roses sitting up proudly in their vase. Bill stared at you, studying your face as you studied the roses.

"Y/N, there's something I need to tell you."

You turned back around and looked into his eyes, your heart went weak and started to thump, your mind running faster than you could keep up with, you were jumping to conclusions and didn't know what to think.

"Okay" you replied nervously "What is it?"

"I'm in love with you" Bill confessed, "I always have been, and nothing really made sense until I read your letter to mum and looked at the photograph of us you sent her."

Your racing thoughts finally slowed down, you were catching up with them.

"Fred had his life stolen from him, he was young, he had years ahead of him - now nothing. I don't want to lose you, I don't want to disappear before we've even had a chance to get started."

You nodded your head slowly and placed your hand on top of his in support, and providing him with comfort.

"I don't want to lose you either, Bill."

Taglist: @alwaysnforeverfangirl @horrorxweasley @amourtentiaa @inglourious-imagines @reeophidian @sebby-staan @a-castle-of--glass

[kiirokero]

Outro: Love is Not Over (14)

Pairing: Daycare Teacher! Hoseok x Single Mom! Reader.

Genre: Single Parent! AU, Teacher! AU, Hybrid! AU, Fluff, Angst, Adorable Kids,

Warnings: Swearing, if that needs a warning

Word Count: 2.8K

Note: AFK :’) Oh my god please don’t let this suck in the morning 

Summary: Years after a relationship goes south. You are the single mother of a beautiful 6-year-old golden retriever hybrid who you named Yunho. He is the light of your life. Yunho is everything to you, and you’d do anything for him. But you’re a human. Yunho doesn’t care, he will tell you he doesn’t. “You’re still my Eomma. No matter what.” He says. But you can’t help but feel like you will never be enough for him. You can’t be the mother he deserves. You can’t show him the ropes of being a hybrid, and you can’t teach him things the other moms can. But you try. You try your damn hardest. So, when a handsome German Shepard hybrid comes into your life, helping you and guiding Yunho in a way you can’t, you can’t help the cozy home he sets up in your heart.

Chapter Guide:

Previous / Next

Masterlist

It had rained the previous night.

    Nothing drastic, but it was enough to make the forest around me and Hoseok dewy. Occasionally, a spare raindrop would fall from the leaves above onto Hoseok's head and he’d squeak in surprise, looking up at the culprit tree with a pout and lowered ears. Every time. It was endearing. The way his eyes lit up at any pretty flower we would pass, how he smiled so widely when he put one of them behind my ear, how he vowed to protect me from any scary creatures that lurked in the forest. (If I was being honest, Hoseok was the only one worried about that)

    I came here because I sorted out my feelings and was ready to let them spill, but now I’m second guessing myself. If perfect didn’t exist, then why is Jung Hoseok here? Why is he by my side, rambling about the “macaroni art disaster” that happened last Tuesday, and why am I listening with a smile on my face? Why is he here with me? I spent years chasing after a “perfect life” with a man who didn’t give two shits about me, just to have perfection on legs waltz into my life and wiggle into the heart of not only me, but my son too.

   I was a broken mirror. Still functional, aesthetic, and usable, but compared to the crystal chandelier that was Hoseok, I was nothing but that annoying piece of glitter that’s follows people around since their arts and crafts day at Kindergarten. Why would the crystal want the glass when the crystal is pure perfection?

    Jung Hoseok shattered the image of perfect I had in my head and replaced it with a prettier one. Perfection used to be having a nice house, a nice family, living a debt free life. Perfection was the expectations forced upon me by my family at a young age, and I rolled with it out of fear of disappointment. Then Jung Hoseok showed up with his pretty brown eyes and lovable personality and rocked the boat saying,

“Perfection isn’t perfect. Perfection is what makes you happy.”

   Perfection is what makes you happy, and god did Jung Hoseok make me the happiest I’ve been in years. I wanted to bottle that happiness up and cuddle it to sleep. Every single second he was with me I was happy, and I used to hate it. Now I can’t imagine my life without it...

  “Hoseok, when I asked if you could watch Yunho, I wasn’t expecting to come home to this.” I chuckled. Both Hoseok and Yunho looked like deer caught in headlights, but I could see the small itch of a smile on Hoseok’s face. “But Eomma! I had a sore throat,” Yunho whined, his lips stained blue and his face was slowly turning red.

   “And popsicles cure sore throats?” I asked playfully. I wasn’t mad, no, because I knew that even if Yunho ate popsicles now, he’d still scarf down his dinner. No problem. “...Mr. Hoseok said it would,” Yuhno snitched.

   Hoseok gasped in faux offense, getting a giggle out of the younger hybrid. “I feel betrayed!” He said in an overly dramatic voice, causing Yunho to laugh harder. I couldn’t help but laugh along with them

Perfection isn’t perfect. Perfection is what makes you happy.

   “Did he fall asleep?” Hoseok asked, looking down at Yunho who was currently lost in dreamland, drooling on my shoulder. “Mhm, I guess all that playing at the park tired him out,” I chuckled, kissing Yunho on the cheek, making sure not to jostle him too much. 

  Hoseok looked at us fondly, the slightest of smiles on his face. “What?” I asked with a smile of my own. Hoseok merely shrugged, “The two of you are cute, that’s all,” He said, looking down to kick a rock that was on the sidewalk. I blushed, holding Yunho just a tad bit tighter. “Thank you,” I said. Hoseok looked back at me. 

“You’re a wonderful mom,”

“I like to think so,”

It’s what makes you happy...

   “I can go. You don’t have to feel like you need to keep me here,” Hoseok offered gently. The moonlight that shone through the drawn curtains of the living room illuminated his warm features perfectly. The slope of his nose, the curve of his eyes, the upturn of his smile. I wonder what Michelangelo was thinking when he sculpted Hoseok. Probably something in Italian. 

   I grabbed his hand, dragging him back to the couch. “No, you can stay. If you want to, of course... I’d like to chill with you,” I said with somewhat trembling hands and an erratic heart. “You would?” He asked, stars painted in his eyes. I nodded, sitting down on the couch. Hoseok immediately took the space beside me, one of his arms on the back of the couch behind me and the other on his lap. 

  Hoseok sighed, “Adult time,” He joked. “I’m a single mother. My ‘adult time’ is my nap time,” I chuckled, sinking down into the cushions. “Hmm, well, if that’s the case, should we put on a movie until you fall asleep?” He suggested, one of his brows raised. “What about you, though? Leaving you to explore my own dreamland is a bit rude, don’t you think?” I asked, raising my brow as well. 

   “Then let me ask a followup question. Is it okay if I crash on your couch for the night?” He asked cheekily, as if he knew that I couldn’t refuse him. “Hm, I guess,” I sighed sarcastically. I was unable to hide my smile though. “Great!” Hoseok exclaimed, taking the blanket that laid next to him and draping it over us, snuggling up to me. “Is this okay?” He asked. 

“Y-yeah... This is okay,”

The pancakes I made in the morning with a giggly Yunho and a smiling Hoseok tasted sweeter than normal. 

Perfection isn’t perfect. Perfection is what makes you happy. 

And I hoped I could be selfish just for today to secure my happiness for tomorrow. 

   “Y/n, are you okay? Earth to Y/n~” Hoseok called in a singsong voice, poking one of my arms, dragging me out of my flashbacks. Startled, I nodded with a hum, nervously twiddling with my fingers. “Mhm,” Hoseok chuckled, “We’re here.” I looked at our surroundings, realizing that I left Hoseok in awkward silence all the way through the trail. (It wasn’t awkward, Hoseok thought it was comfortable)

   I gasped, “O-Oh! Oh... we are,” Hoseok smiled, grabbing my hand and leading me off the trail into a small clearing of vibrant green grass and small white daisies. He put down the basket he had in his hand and pulled out a cliche red checkered picnic blanket. “Cheeseball,” I giggled. Hoseok stuck his tongue out at me playfully, obviously proud of his blanket choices. He laid it out on the grass, making sure it was prim and proper before turning to me with a beaming smile, encouraging me to sit down. 

   I did as he silently asked and sat down on the blanket, thankful to give my legs a break. It was soft, I noticed, perfect for taking a nap in the afternoon sun. Hoseok plopped down next to me, his tail furiously wagging back and forth as he pulled out various different food containers from the basket. “So, I may have gone a bit... Overboard... But I just wanted to make you at least one thing that you’d liked.” He smiled, unashamed of his actions and more satisfied, like he was overachieving on a school project. “Hoseok, I’m sure I’d call your PB&J’s gourmet,” I chuckled, taking a hold of the chopsticks he was offering me. 

  Hoseok laughed along, opening the first container and placing it in between us. It looked like Kkakdugi. “What if we taste test each dish and decide on our favorites? Then we can eat those,” He suggested, and I nodded along. I’d honestly go along with anything he’d say. Hoseok picked up a piece of radish, holding it up to my lips. I leaned away for a second, cocking a brow. “Here,” He said, pressing the food to my lips again. I relented and let him feed me the radish. 

  I sighed, closing my eyes and basking in the sweet and slightly spicy taste. “If everything is this good, I’m going to have to hibernate for a year after this,” I said, somewhat seriously, somewhat jokingly. Hoseok laughed, falling back onto the blanket in a fit of giggles. “We’d better get on it then,” He said. 

“Not to be mean, but how do you burn kimchi?”

   Hoseok covered his face in embarrassment, rolling on his side so he didn’t have to look at my teasing smile. “I don’t know! I mean, maybe the burnt taste was something else,” He argued back with a pout. We were currently full and happy, laid on our back and looking up at the orange sky, pointing out oddly shaped clouds. And talking about how Hoseok managed to burn Baechu-Kimchi.

Also, avoiding the entire reason I asked Hoseok to hang out with me today...

   It was hard! No matter how many times I practiced in the mirror the previous or hyped myself up in my head, he would smile or laugh or say something in that sultry voice of his, and my mind would blank. I was fighting with the mini Hyejin on my shoulder that was acting like a furious grandmother, constantly pulling at my ear and saying, “Dumb dumb, just spill it,” 

   “Hey, are you okay?” Hoseok spoke up suddenly. I turned my head towards him, catching his pretty brown eyes immediately. His soft brunette was falling over his face gently, occasionally moving whenever the breeze blew through. “W-What?” I asked, shaking myself out of whatever trance he manages to put me in whenever we lock eyes. 

   Hoseok chuckled, his dark brown ears twitching slightly when a leaf landed on one of them. “You’ve been out of it a lot today. Also, I can tell you're anxious,” He said, “What’s bothering you, buttercup?” He asked, and I felt my ears heat up at the pet name. Stupid Y/n just speak words, you’re literally a journalist. “Um, I just have some things on my mind,” If this were a drama, and I happened to be the main character, fans of the show would probably be screaming at their tv screens right now. 

    “Do you want to talk about it?” Hoseok asked. “I should, I really should,” I sighed. I could tell my words confused Hoseok, but he left a space for me to speak nonetheless, giving me a smile of encouragement. Just say something, anything. Alright, okay. 1... 2... 3... Go! “I wish I met you 6 years ago,” I blurted out, backtracking once I realized what I said. “No... 5 years ago, cause then I’d still have Yunho,” 

Hoseok giggled slightly. “And why’s that?” 

“Because then life wouldn’t have been as hard...” I answered honestly

   Hoseok had a baffled look on his face. I looked back up at the sky, distracting myself with the pretty formations of clouds and let my subconscience do the work and talk, finally letting it all out. Hoseok’s ears stood at attention when I opened my mouth again. “It's always been Yunho and I... Him and I against the world.” I started.

“Like his cartoon?” Hoseok asked. 

“Like his cartoon,” I smiled. 

   I took a deep breath. “It’s obvious that my last relationship didn’t end well, and that it still effects me to this day... I remember even swearing to myself that I would never fall in love again, but then... This Jung Hoseok dude came along,” I snickered, pretending I was alone and this was another practice run. It made things easier. Hoseok stayed silent. “He came along with his handsome face, warm smile and amazing personality. God, he even made me jealous sometimes...” 

“I’m sure there’s no reason to be jealous.”

   “Oh, but there is. He’s amazing, absolutely amazing. Not just because he memorizes all my favorites or makes it his mission to make me smile, but because he’s amazing with my kid. He’s amazing with my kid in a way that I can’t be.” I stressed. 

“What do you-” 

   “Human mom and hybrid son, I mean, those are total opposites,” I joked, cutting Hoseok off. “Often times I would second guess myself as a mother and worry if I was teaching Yunho the right things but then Jung Hoseok came in and eased my worries. He took Yunho under his wing and the both of us couldn’t be happier,” I rambled, unaware of the blinding smile Hoseok was shooting at me. “We both don’t know what we would do if he drifted away one day,”

“He won’t”

   I finally gathered the courage to look at him. If the stars were in his eyes before, then andromeda was in them now. His dimpled smile and wrinkled eyes melted my heart. “Yeah, that’s why I’m saying all this in hopes that he’s picking up what I’m putting down,” I mumbled. “What are you putting down?” He asked. “That Jung Hoseok stole my heart and I’m not mad about it.”

   Hoseok suddenly stood up, reaching his hand down to offer me help up. I quirked a brow. But Hoseok eased my worries with a simple “Trust me,” I put my hand in his, and he enthusiastically pulled me up, causing me to fall into his chest. He steadied me with his hands on my waist, and I looked up at him, still confused. “I wasn’t done, ya know,” I pouted. “Well then, continue,” He chuckled. 

“I was saying that Jung Hoseok should know about my insecurities and emotional baggage that he would have to deal with if he wanted to be with me,”

“It’s not ‘dealing with it’ It’s accepting your flaws as a part of you, and I love every part of you,” Hoseok said, leaning closer into me. 

“Love?”

“Mhm, that’s what I said.”

   Hoseok leaned in even closer until we pressed our foreheads together. Neither of us said anything, we just looked into each other's eyes, comfortably this time, with nothing but the forest ambiance to break the silence. “I’m telling you, Jung, there is a lot of baggage,” I sighed somberly. “And I’m willing to help you cope with it,” He said. “I have a kid, Jung,” I pointed out, subconsciously trying to find any deal breaker now rather than later.

   “I know, and he’s adorable.” He smiled. “That doesn’t make you feel weird?” I asked. Hoseok shook his head. “Not at all. When I said every part of you, I meant it Y/n,” He stressed, bring up one of his hands to cup my face. “You’re so nice it’s annoying sometime,” I joked, leaning into his touch. Hoseok merely laughed. 

I don’t know how it happened.

Or why I didn’t realize it. 

    Slowly but surely, we leaned in, looking each other in the eye until mine closed. I felt Hoseok’s soft lips on my own only moments after. It was like breathing for the first time. The feeling that erupted in my chest was addictive. I could already tell that much. If I was freezing, this kiss would warm me up. If I was hurt, this kiss was like ice on a wound. This kiss was pure relief. Relief that I finally spoke up, relief that I didn’t chicken out. 

Relief that I could finally be happy.

   Hoseok’s lips were like saccharine marshmallows created by the gentlest of deities. The heart shape of them fit perfectly against my own, like our lips were lost puzzle pieces needed to create the perfect picture of happiness. His earthy forest scent filled my nose. It used to be calming. Now it was downright hypnotic. His hands felt like warm embers against my skin, surrounding me in a shroud of warmth and comfort.

   I gripped my hands in his coat, pulling him even closer than he already was. I wanted to feel nothing but his warm embrace. I felt his lips curve into a smile as he kissed me deeper, bringing me farther into his trance. My knees were on the verge of buckling, but I willed them to stay still so I could savor this moment just a bit longer. Just a bit more. 

   Hoseok pulls away slightly to let out a sigh that hit my red lips. We were still pressed close. The slightest of breezes could blow me over and his soft lips would be on mine again. “Look at what you do to me,” Hoseok whispered, looking me in my eyes with his lidded ones that were filled with adoration. I was confused for a minute before I felt something soft hit my leg. I looked down, holding back a giggle when I saw Hoseok’s tail swinging madly, faster than I’ve seen it go before. 

“I’m happy too,”

“You knew I had a crush on you, didn’t you?”

“I mean, I'm a hybrid so I can smell it...”

“Embarrassment can’t begin to describe how I feel,”

“Aww but it was cute.”

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