#but it's still so cold to do taht

[horusmenhosetix]

Getting home yesterday was hellish. I misunderstood my mum saying she would pick me up from the train station in my town with her picking me up from the airport. I complained about the 2 hour train journey before my flight because i couldn't face another two hours of travelling with no water left.

The whole day I got progressively more stressed trying to communicate with people with my limited phrases I'd almost memorised. I'm autistic and I was travelling on my own in a country I didn't know, my head hurts all the time, and the plane makes it hurt worse because of the pressure.

So i spend the plane ride thinking it's nearly over I can go home, it's a 30 min drive from the airport to my house. But when I get off the plane, after a painful journey after navigating the airport in a different language and getting so lost, and getting through the maze that is arrivals (it was much simpler in the country i went to so i didn't expect this stress and nearly cried) I realised my mum wasn't there and that I'd made yet another mistake I just became overwhelmed and cried.

A sweet teen girl approached me and asked me what was wrong and if she could help and even asked her parents which was so embarrassing because i could tell they were judging me but was sweet of her.

I then had to find the train stating which was poorly sign posted and underground with just an arrow pointing to the floor. And cried the entire two hour train journey home. Just from the pain and stress and self loathing. I've mistaken her saying she'd pick me up before and it happened agsin.

Then I finally get back home and my mum gets in a mood with me because she thinks I'm mad at her and gives me the silent treatment despite me sobbing in the seat next to her. She wouldn't comfort me at all.

Now my head hurts from crying yesterday but I'm finally home. i made so many mistakes travelling but I managed to get to the correct places so next time when I go for the surgery with my brother it should be slightly easier.

I just want to ask if this is a normal human reaction to your autistic child being slightly snappy to you after they've just pushed themselves to the brink of overstimulation travelling on their own, getting a plane for the first time on their own, navigating a foreign country with like three phrases of that language on their own, sobbing in the seat next to you.

[lavandulawrites]

The Wine Connoisseur

Yandere Mori x reader

Masterlist

Warnings: imprisonment, manipulation, slight mention of murder, Elise is Mori’s daughter

Word count: 716

Mori was a peculiar man. His love for the city admirable. He was cruel and calculated. His predictions never wrong. He never shied away from violence, but rather welcomed it. He valued ambition and loyalty. His daughter, (who you came to know after awhile where his ability, an extension of himself) was spoiled to the brim.

It had surprised you when you had asked him what he would do if he wasn’t the boss of the Port Mafia and he answered you truthfully. It might have been the expensive wine you both had in your system or the intimacy of you two, you didn’t know. He had looked at you with such earnest and gentleness “If I wasn’t the boss of the Port Mafia, I would have opened up an orphanage”. You had only looked at him in shock. To imagine the cold and calculated man could have a so tender wish like that m, almost seemed surreal.

You could never fully understand Mori and he never gave you the chance. He was an imposing figure who captured the eyes of everyone whenever he entered a room. He was undoubtedly a handsome man. His charismatic smile swooning woman and men alike. It wasn’t a secret that the woman of the Port Mafia all had a little crush on him.

When you first met him was at a wine conference. You and many others were completely unaware that the notorious Mafia was amongst the quest.

The black haired man was clad in a expensive black dress with dark crimson details which matched his eyes perfectly. He had eyed you all night long and finally approached you after he was down with his business. Even his gait was striking.

“Enjoying yourself?” his voice deep and smooth. In his was a wine glass filled with deep red liquid. He gently swished the wine and took a sip.

You two talked all night long about all and nothing. At the time you were completely unaware of his true identity.

Weeks past and you two became close friends, but you still felt that you didn’t know him. When you asked about his occupation he said he was a doctor. When you thought back on it, he had indeed been truthful. At least to a certain extent.

You threw your head back and glanced up at the ceiling rose. You were so lost on your thoughts that you didn’t notice the man behind you. Your eyes wandered to the person behind the couch. With your position everything was upside down. Mori smiled and chuckled at your position.

“I see that you like the new ceiling” he chuckled. “I am glad the restoration of this penthouse paid off”. He discarded his red scarf and took a seat beside you. He loosened his tie. It has been a gift from you before all this.

You sighed as you removed your gaze from him. “I still don’t understand why you go to such lengths. No matter how much money you spend on me, I won’t change my mind”. You change your position so you were more upright. “I still want to leave. I want to experience the world, not being locked up here like some damsel in distress” your eyes narrowed.

His lips curled up into a smirk. He hummed as his fingers drummed on the backrest. “You don’t know what you are talking about. What is it to explore? Nothing. It’s absolutely nothing. You have everything you need here and more. And regarding your desire to leave…” he moved closer to you “Believe me when I say I will change your mind. It’s only a matter of time. The human mind is rather fragile”. He filled the two wine glasses that stood on the coffee table with the wine he had brought with him and gave you one of them. He raised his glass. “To our future and our relationship” he clinked his galas against yours.

The wine rich and tasted awfully similar. Your eyes went to the bottle that laid in its silver ice bucket. It was the same wine you both shared at the conference all those months ago. Suddenly the sweet wine tasted as bitter as the bile taht had rose up your throat at the sight of your slaughter friends.

[sillysowa]

PROMISE

PAIRING: HOBIE BROWN X GN!READER

GENRE: HEAVY ANGST

WORD COUNT: 1.1K

WARNINGS: NOT PROOFREAD, USE OF Y/N, READER DEATH, DESCRIPTION OF INJURIES

AUTHORS NOTE: IF YOU CATCH ANYTHING TAHT ISN’T GN, LET ME KNOW

SYNOPSIS: HOBIE NEVER WANTED IT TO END LIKE THIS…

—

Often, Hobie looked fondly upon your deep caring nature and true heroism that he never saw in anyone else—but this time he only cursed it to hell.

He saw his life flash before his eyes as you swung back into the collapsing building to rescue a civilian, panicked and fueled on the notion that you ‘had to save them.’

He couldn’t have possibly chased after you any faster, and the moment your webs shot them out of the building and into the crowd of people gathered to catch them, he screamed,

“Y/N!” A cry of pure despair tore from Hobie’s throat as he watched the ceiling collapse on his only love.

His heart constricted in his ribcage at the sight of your fear before it happened and the sounds of you pain. He had never moved with so much haste, tearing the rubble off of you with his pulse pounding in his head. You were trapped under incredibly large pieces of the ceiling and Hobie could see your bloodied feet under the small gap he revealed.

“Y/N! Y/N please!” Hobie gasped, crawling under the opening. Nothing could have prepared him for the sight of your limp body, pierced in your side by a giant rod of metal from the rubble, bleeding out like a bloody waterfall. You were conscious, but definitely not for long with all the blood loss. Your mask was torn clean off and tears spilled from your poor red eyes,

“H-Hobie…?”

“Y/N-Y/N-Y/N…It’s me!…oh, my love...” His shaking voice cracked as his arms reached out to gently hold you close. You cried and screamed in pain as he cradled you,

“I know I know, I’m sorry my love, I’m so sorry. It’s okay, you’re gonna be okay…I’m here, I’m here.” Hobie rambled, his voice trembling as he turns your head to look away from the wound and into his teary eyes. It was heartbreaking to see him like this,

“Hobie…I don’t want to die…” Your lower lip trembled and your voice was hoarse as you spoke, your rattling fingers clinging to the back of his jacket as you sobbed, the shaking of your body only causing you more pain and making you cry even harder.

“You won’t die baby, I promise.” Hobie almost whispered as he attempted to gently remove the rod from your side, instantly stopping when your screaming grew particularly agonized and sobs of his name fell from your lips, your limp body tensing under him,

“It’s-it’s useless Hobie…” You whimper, swallowing and trying to not hyperventilate. Hobie felt utterly defeated, looking down at the dying light in his arms and knowing there was nothing he could do about it. He hadn’t even realized he was crying until he felt your trembling fingers against his warm skin, wiping away his tears—you were so cold.

He held your hand there as if there was a possibility he could engrave your fingerprints into his skin and keep you there with him. You tried to steady your breathing, tried to muster up the strength to speak,

“P-Please don’t cry, Hobie…”

If only it were that easy. Hobie had never been so afraid in his life as he was watching you fight for your own in his arms, your blood gushing all over him with seemingly nothing he could do to help you.

“I can’t let you die like this…I can’t.” He whispered and squeezed your hand, his warmth an oddly unfamiliar feeling to you as your mind starting to feel fuzzy, your head lolling back only for Hobie to cradle it with his palm,

“Why…?” He asked, his voice low and broken in anguish as he held you, your head in his palm, “You’re all that matters to me you know that right?” Hobie couldn’t bring himself to use words like ‘were’ or ‘mattered.’ You were still there…at least for a little longer,

“I know…” You sobbed, coughing and choking on your blood then whimpering as Hobie’s grub tightened on you and his pulse raced. You were horrified of dying, but relieved that it would be in Hobie’s loving arms. Those same arms that hugged you tight every time he saw you, caged you in when you slept soundly, and saved you countless times. There was no other way you would have your death than this—Hobie looking down on you with your hand against his cheek, whispering about how much he loves you while soaking your fingers with his tears and rocking you gently in his arms,

“Hobie…listen to me okay?” You groan, your eyelashes fluttering as you wince in dying pain,

Hobie just nodded, swallowing the lump in his throat. He looked like he was genuinely hanging on every word you said.

“Please, promise me you’ll…keep living…keep fighting everyday, Hobie, just the way you always do-“ You choked out, holding his jacket in your balled up fist. The pinch in your eyebrows, the tears in your eyes, the blood on your lips—it was a nightmare to Hobie,

“N-No please don’t-don’t say things like that please…” Hobie cried and nuzzled his cheek against your palm, scared that it would fall from his face at any moment,

“Hobie you have to promise…” You whimpered, your glossy eyes gazing longingly into his own. Hobie couldn’t…because he knew if he did it would be like sealing the deal on your death. But, he also knew that he couldn’t let you die without doing anything you asked of him, so he swallowed his pain,

“I-I promise…” Hobie whispered, his tears dripping down onto your face, you whimper and your breathing grows slow, your face becoming oddly pale and colorless, your eyes dull,

“Y/N? Y/N, I can’t lose you, please!” Hobie screamed with a hollow voice, barely his voice barely a whisper in the bustling night. He held you like a baby, never feeling so helpless in his life. You didn’t respond to him, just squeezed his jacket until your knuckles turned pale and your hands shook violently before all their movements ceased. Your eyes were Hobie’s only remaining form of contact with you, the light slowly going out and being replaced with the lifeless look of a doll.

Hobie’s body was racked with sobs as his composure crumbled, hot tears brimming down his cheeks as he held your head under his chin. You were gone…his only love, his life, his purpose—gone. He slipped his palm into your hand, squeezing it like your fingers could still hold him—he didn’t want to think about how you could never hold his hand again…

Hobie knew he would never be the same person he was before he had held your dead body in his arms and sobbed for hours, dreaming that you would open your eyes and tell him you’d be okay, that you’d both be okay. He held your hand the whole night, even though your fingers were stuff and you would never feel a thing ever again.

—

@ohxx @luxxtuxx @fatenpara @hobesbf @defnot-bri @lasagnaisbest @deepzombieyouth

[knockyasocksoff2022]

It Counts

Sicktember 2024 - Prompt #10 The Sniffles (TM)

Words: 1,642

Pairing: Nakajima Atsushi / Akutagawa Ryuunosuke

POV: First person (Atsushi)

Atsushi’s Perspective:

The single light fills the bathroom with a warm glow, colouring my reflection orange in the mirror. I take the temperature reading device out of my mouth before it can start to beep, so as not to wake Ryuu.

Sure enough, no fever. Perfectly normal. It’s just the weather change giving the tiger, an animal taht prefers warmer environments, a bit of trouble. I’m being dramatic.

‘Spoilt brat! Since when did you become such a hypochondriac? Such weakness will only bring everyone around you down.’

The thought startles me, it came from somewhere deep inside my mind, the part that never really left the orphanage, that sometimes I fear never really will.

As quietly as I can, I walk back to bed. The entire flat has heated floors, but it still feels a bit cold. I know it’s just me because Ryuu sleeps, unbothered.

Still, if there’s any chance I even could be sick, I should sleep on the sofa. Just to be safe.

‘You selfish person, why didn’t you move to the sofa when you felt tired earlier? You’ll get him sick and then he might die!’

My mind's scolding confuses me. Am I sick or not?

-

The sofa is comfortable . . . normally when I’m sitting or cuddled against Ryuu, but now the discomfort is familiar. I drift to sleep, scolding myself for worrying about the neck pain.

–

“Huh?”

I think Ryuu said something to me, but I don’t really wake up until he starts the coffee grinder. The sound grate sound my ears.

“I said: Good morning, Jinko.”

“Oh.”

“May I ask why you are on the sofa?”

Crap! I can’t tell him. I mean, it’s not like I’m even ill. I don’t need him freaking out.

“Uh, I got overheated last night, so I came out here.” My voice sounds way too deep, almost guttural.

He raises an eyebrow, pouring the ground coffee into the coffee maker without looking. “Mmm, interesting, seeing as you’re wearing a jumper.”

Oops.

“Well, the jumper and blanket were too much, but the jumper by itself was fine.” I know I’m only digging myself deeper, but what else can I do? I can’t have him fussing over me when I’m not actually ill.

“Nice try, Jinko. As much as I enjoy you’re morning voice, you are clearly congested.” He trunks his back to me before I can retort. 

Ah, well, there goes that. I sigh, feeling the mucus shift unpleasantly in the back of my throat. I stand, crossing the living room to the kitchen, to make breakfast.

“Peppermint, or Lemon and Ginger tea, Jinko?” He trunks around, holding up two bags.

“Ryuu, stop. It’s barely the sniffles.”

“Tea is proven to help with symptoms like sore throats and congestion.” He explains.

“I know that, but I’m not-I don’t need all that. I’m fine, just- please don’t. Let me make my breakfast. I’ve got to pack my lunch too. I have to be at work at 7:00.”

“Nakajima Atsushi . . .”

My full name. That means he’s about to try and convince me (and it’s about to work). I cut him off.

“No, I don’t even have a fever. I’m not sick enough for this.”

“For what, Atsushi, a little tea? You drink tea all the time, what’s so special about it today?”

“I, uh- you don’t need to make tea for me.”

“Of course not, nothing I do for you is “necessary”, Jinko. I am the sick one. I am the one who requires care, Everything I do for you is because I want to. I know you are perfectly capable of making tea, so are you going to do it yourself?”

I won’t. He’s caught me.

“Well, Atsushi, will you?”

I can’t. It’s not right.

The way he’s looking at me . . . I have to give him so explanation. 

“I-I don’t deserve it,” I whisper. It feels pathetic to say it even if the words are air-horn loud inside my head. “I’m sorry, sorry for troubling you.”

His eyes narrow, faint brows furrowing, and he sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. I did just what I didn’t want to do. I made trouble for him.

He exhales heavily, then speaks, “Don’t deserve it, hmm? Well, tell me then, Jinko, how sick do you have to be before you do? Why do I deserve all you do for me?”

What? What is he saying? Of course, he deserves it.

“Because you can’t help it, and I love you!” My voice breaks. It hurts a bit. 

Weak.

He exhales again, “God, Atsushi, do you hear yourself? I can’t help it? Of course not. But neither can you. You didn’t decide to become ill. You-”

“But I’m not ill, not really. I don’t have a fever, it doesn’t count.”

His eyes widen. He stands frozen for a second, then he’s hugging me, hard, face pressed into my neck, nuzzling me.

“No, Ryuu, stop, you’ll catch-”

He ignores me, “Is that what you think?”

“Yes! Now please back up!”

“If it doesn’t count, then why shouldn’t I hug you?” He asks, “If it doesn’t count, why shouldn’t I do this?” He comes close again, lips nearly touching mine. 

I shove him away, barely falling back as I do. I might now be very ill, but for Ryuu, even small things can turn bad.

“Just because you have no measurable symptoms doesn’t mean that you aren’t feeling poorly. Yes?”

I sniffle, I can’t help it anymore. “Y-yes.”

“Now, which tea would you like?”

“Um, Lemon and Ginger, please.”

“Alright, go back to bed. I’ll bring it in.”

“Ryuu, I have work.”

“Sleep would speed up the recovery process.” He argues.

“I want to go to work, I feel well enough. And work would distract me.” It’s true, I’m barely congested. I don’t even have a headache.

He looks at me with slightly narrowed eyes, scanning me up and down, then nods, “There’s no need to tell you that I trust you Jinko. If you say you’re fine, I believe it, but at least allow me to make you proper breakfast and pack your lunch. Try and get a few more minutes in while I do so. You’d be no help at work if you allowed yourself to get worse.”

I can’t argue with that, as harsh as he may seem, Ryuu always knows what will knock sense into me, it seems. I suppose that’s why we’re dating.

-

True to his word, I have plenty of time to dress for work when Ryuu wakes me.

“But, Atsushi, you are not wearing that ridiculous get-up, not today.”

He hands me a stack of clothes before returning to the kitchen to finish breakfast.

I unfold the stack. It contains my usual colours, with slightly different components. Instead of my usual capris, there’s a pair of soft, black joggers (the fashionable kind with the thin ankle elastics), an undershirt and a soft, white T-shirt (it’s long on me, so it must be his) Lastly, a black cable knit jumper to complete the outfit. There are throat lozenges in the pocket.

I leave it off for now, knowing my elevated body temperature I might overheat, but after a second of debate, I stuff it in my bag. Just in case I can’t take the office’s air con as well as usual.

Ryuu’s breakfast is delicious, and I eat almost all of it.

-

I blow him a kiss as I get up. He catches it, then hands one of his black lunch boxes. It feels heavier than it should. I give him a questioning look.

“Soup.” He explains, looking me over with a frown.

“Really, Ryuu, I’m alright.”

“Where’s the jacket?”

“I’ve got it right here, in my bag.” I open my satchel to show him, “See.”

“It’s windy out today, put it on.” 

Chuckling at his antics, I do. “Happy?” And I hand him back the bills from his pocket. “I think you left these.”

“O, that’s for cab fare. It should cover your trip there and home.”

“Ryuu, you don’t have to, the train is perfectly fin-”

He places a finger over my lips, reaches behind me to the coat hooks for a scarf, and fastens it on my neck.

“The station is blocks and blocks away, you don’t need to walk today. I’m sure you’ll get your steps in adequately at work. There. Now you may go. And you had better tell Dazai-san that you can’t fight today. If I see you, I’ll drag you straight back home.”

“Yeah, yeah, Ryuu, I will.” I blow him one last kiss before putting on my mask and heading out the door.

–

Of course, I get funny looks for showing up in a cab, and my outfit, but it’s mostly forgotten when they see my mask. Thankfully, Dazai-san steps in to keep Yosano-sensei, and Kyouka from worrying too much, as much of a hypochondriac as he is, he seems to understand not wanting attention. 

I’m glad for my jacket, the office feels colder than usual today.

-

By lunch, I feel better. Kunikida-san put me on desk duty, even when I instead he didn’t, but he said it hardly mattered since we had no field cases today. Judging by the amount of paperwork from our latest cases, that’s probably a good thing. 

Despite only filing papers all day, my appetite has come back. The tiger heals wounds instantaneously, but she takes a bit longer for things like this, so I’m not surprised. I’m starving.

It looks like Ryuu anticipated that I would be feeling better, just like always, even when he chides me he has more faith than I have in myself sometimes. 

The lunch box contains all the ingredients for chazuke, arranged carefully, minus the tea, which is in the thermos. That must be why it felt heavy. For some reason, seeing the lunch box makes my chest feel warm. It’s nice. Is this how Ryuu feels when I care for him? I can only hope so.

As I pour the tea, I can only think that maybe my burdens aren’t as big as I think they are. Maybe sharing my burdens isn’t always so terrible. Maybe sometimes sharing can make them smaller.

Either way, Ryuu’s double portion of Chazuke is wonderful.

[didishawn]

The kylian fic is so cute, can you write a part 5 where Jude and jobe won’t let the reader and kylian have their alone time till she gets upset and leaves so they feel bad and try to accept kylian. Can there be smut too?

I luv your writing btw❤️❤️❤️

Clingy siblings (Kylian Mbappe x Reader) smut

Warnings: smut, Jude and Jobe are still little shits

Masterlist

Pt 1 Pt 2 Pt 3 Pt 4

You wonder if it will be too difficult to convince your boyfriend of spending the rest of the break in Paris, otherwise, you might be murdering your brothers.

You don't know what the problem is with them, they have never acter this clingy back with your other boyfriends -although with them, you did try to have them as far away from your family as possible, each fot different reasons. But Kyky is not the same, you might not have been together that long, but you know he is as serious with you as you are with him -or at least you hope so.

He is as serious as you are, that's why he is trying so hard to get along with your family, by that, he means your brother, both mother and father already adore him -you even suspect your mother to be thinking about grandkids already.

On the other hand, Jude and Jobe are terrible.

Well, not really terrible persee, it's not as if they have been ruder than usual, it's just that the idea of you and your boyfriend having any alone time seems to be one they refuse to let happen.

You want to show Kylian through the city? They must be there, after all, they are the most interesting part of it.

Want to take Kylian out for drinks with your friends? Well, you better be going somewhere Jobe can too, he is still a kid, can't drink, so maybe a playground will be the best place to go to.

Both of them are suddenly even more interested in basketbl than usual, and that requires sitting in between you and Kyky on the couch to watch whatever match is going on.

Not even during the night are you left alone, a fort having been built on your bedroom, stating neither are in need of a nephew.

It gets exhausting, really, you are aware of having brought Kylian over to meet your family, but that doesn't mean taht you two shouldn't be allowed to have your private time together, and doesn't matter how much your mum and dad try to stop those two little shits, they refuse to stop.

"Are you fucking kidding me?"

"What?" Jude asks, mouth full of popcorn as he and Jobe act all innocent.

As if the two weren't lying on your bed, munching on your snacks with the movie you have chosen for Kyky and you to see playing on the background.

"Don't 'what' me! You know exactly what is going on!"

"And what about it? Can we want to spend some time with our sister and Kyky?"

Said man, even if in need of their aprooval, looks absolutely exhausted at their schemingans, rised eyebrow and crossed arms.

"There is a difference in between wanting to hang out together and completely invading our privacy, you know?"

"And what do you want us to do about it?" the older one asks, defiant.

"Maybe get the fuck out?"

The two look at each other for a minute, then burst out laughing.

"Not happening" Jobe says in between laughter.

"Come on," Jude teases, patting the tiny spot left on the bed "join us, the movie is quite good if I am being honest"

You do nothing but groan, arms raised and a cold glare thrown their way before stomping away, ignoring their jabs and requests of you staying.

The two take it in a laughing matter honestly, that is until the noise of the front door slamming closed -mum and dad gone fir the night, so no one shouts any scolding.

It's not until then that some regret fills up their hearts, this time, looking at each other with saddened frowns.

Maybe they had taken it too far, or maybe you just got tired of their shit.

Was it too much to ask for some alone time with your boyfriend?

Talking about the man, he looks worried, doesn't seem to know what to do as he looks around for his shoes, probably about to run after you -as if, he knew his way around the city.

The two brother exchange a look, sighing, they stand up, the older rests a hand on the French man's shoulder.

"We will look for her, you stay here"

Your boyfriend hates the idea, yet accepts it as he knows a siblings' chat is needed, sitting on the bed you share, he watches as the two boy jog out after you.

It doesn't take them long to catch up with you with their athletic physics and the fact that they know the small playground near your home is where you go to whenever in need of some peace.

Your figure is sat on one of the swings, looking, at the floor, yet you know the two little shits are coming to you and they know you know, both sit in each side of you, all quiet -something unusual in between you three.

"We are sorry" the eldest say, in turn you scoff, rolling your eyes.

"Oh, I'm sure you are" you spat out, sarcasm dripping through you

"We are, really!" the youngest says -even if Jobe is also a little shit, he has always been quite sensitive to you getting mad at him, is one of the things he hates the most.

"What are you sorry for? Being assholes during the entire week? Not giving us privacy? Look, I get if you don't like Kylian, but-"

"Wow, wow, who said we didn't like him?" Jude says, arms raised and that surprised look of his taking over his face, mouth wide open, eyes the same.

"I don't know, maybe the fact you have been so annoying and saying all that stuff about Haaland and-"

"We do like him" Jobe says, Jude nods.

"Yeah, it's just that, I don't know, we just like annoying you two, you know? But we really do like Kyky"

"Well, I know that now, but he is convinced you hate him and want me to be with Haaland"

Jude scoffs, almost bursts out laughing "Please, I love Erling, but I know for a fact you wouldn't even last a week"

"Yeah" Jobe agrees "And Kyky seems to handle you just fine"

Arm in arm, the three of you walked home, a puppy eyed Kylian waiting for you on the sofa, almost running to you and hugging you close to himself as you kiss his cheek. Your brothers pretend to gag, but your glare sent their way makes them stand straight, the older one clears his throat.

"Look, Kylian, me an Jobe wanted to apologise for these past couple days"

"Yeah, and we totally think that you match her better than Haaland"

Your boyfriend smiles, easily accepting their apologises and promises to lay off the two of you, night passes on quickly as your boyfriend and brothers finally get to bond.

You can't even remember the last time you room was so quiet, only Kyky and you, his arms around your waist, chest to your back, keeping the two of you warm enough.

Everything is so calm, simple, but the feeling of something pocking your ass has you rising an eyebrow and turning to him with a look that is a mixture of amusement and confusion.

"Is this the moment you confess to me you have a thing for fucking your girlfriends in their childhood beds?"

He laughs, it's deep, yet a bit breathless letting you know his hornyness isn't something new at all.

"I mean, maybe, but it's also the fact of finally it only being me and you and that your ass looks so good on those shorts"

You are deep in thought for a moment, locating your brothers in your bedrooms, parents still out, you wonder if the sound of the bed creaking will be heard from the outside.

A big hand rubbing on your tummy and going lower takes you out from your thoughts, you look back at him, looking so smug as his hand teases you over the thin piece of fabric.

"Wow, can't even go a week without fucking, can you, Mbappe?"

"You are telling me you don't want this?" he is in, fingers hovering your clit, he can feel how wet you are"

"Never said that"

"Good" he concludes, fingers forming circles, another reaching towards your entrance.

You are not in for foreplay tonight, it might not have been taht long since you had your boyfriend's big cock inside you, still you feel depraved of it, you reach out for your own shorts and panties, pushing both fabrics down, making him become wide eyed as you next reach for his own bulge, stimulating it up and down for a bit before taking him out from his boxers.

You are desperate, you know he will tease you for this later, but you can't seem to care as you position him in your entrance, slamming your own hips back to take him all in.

His haw is clenched, eyes tightly closed and head pushed back as he tries to not let out the loud moan coming out from his mouth at the sudden rush of pleasure.

The pace is fast from the start, pleasure having clouded both of your minds as you can't seem to find it in yourself to care for the creaking of your bed and how the frame tries to slam against the wall.

Your leg is kept up by his big hand, having you wide open as his hips piston into yours, low moans leaving him as you whine out at the feeling of being so full.

His balls hit your ass cheeks, his tip kisses your cervix, he is fucking you open, so deep, this is only but a way to fuck off the tension, the love making will have to wait till later.

It doesn't take long until you are tightening around him and milking him for all he is worth, filling you up as you lay on the bed, breathing so heavily you are afraid your hearts will come out from your chests.

His head rests on your shoulder, a small kiss to the skin of your neck as he once more hugs you closely to him.

"You think your brothers heard?"

"I honestly couldn't care less"

You say that, but you know the next morning you won't be able to look either in the eye in hopes they won't ever know what just went on in your tight twin bed.

[nightfallgame]

SHORT — 712 (01)

Originally Written: 07-15-20

Prompt: Imagine that 712 is "discarded" from Blight. He sort of just consigns himself to death, I presume. If you picked him up and began to fuss over him, nursing him back to health and whatnot, what would he do? Is he the kind of "tool" that feels uneasy/uncomfortable when not given orders? Or is he just blankly receiving the attention? How would he react to being treated like a beloved pet? How would he answer questions like, "What do you want for dinner?" Or "What's your favorite color?"

712 lives in a house now. 

Blight discarded him. He failed in a mission. He was hurt. And failure isn't accepted in a place like Blight, so there was no need to keep the one who'd made a mistake around. 

712 had wound up on the streets, alone. He'd sat down beside a dumpster, curled up on himself, and sat there for a good couple of days. It rained a couple of times, and he was cold and uncomfortable, but waiting for someone to find him and kill him seemed like the best option for a lot of reasons. There had to be a lot of people who wanted revenge. 

But you'd found him instead. You'd knelt down in front of him, told him to take your hand, and made him stand up and follow you home. After maybe three days on his own, the orders were a relief. At least he knew what to do now. 

You made him hold your umbrella all the way back to your home. 

Now, 712 lives with you. He has a bed, a room, and 'permission' to do what he sees fit. What 712 deems appropriate is making himself as useful to you as possible. 

He's learned how to do chores. He's still not very good at them— holding a kitchen knife is very different from holding the stabbing kind—, but he's trying his best. He's learned how to cook (sort of), clean (not very well), and do laundry (the machines still confuse him). 

You joke that he's your housewife now. You say that you're always happy to come home to him. 712 never knows how to respond to those things. 

You pet his hair. You bandage his wounds. You look after him in a way that reminds 712 of how regular people are supposed to treat animals that they're fond of. There are lots of times when you call him cute, kiss his forehead, or run your fingers through his hair. The affection makes 712 feel a little bit like he's going to melt, but he thinks he likes it. It's hard to say, when it's something he's never had before. 

When 'liking' things is a concept he's never had before. 

712 cooks you dinner every night. It's always simple food— he doesn't know any better yet—, but you're happy about it nonetheless. You even let him eat as much as he wants of what he makes, which is something taht 712 is very grateful for. 

Tonight, it's macaroni and cheese. He places a bowl of it down in front of you, then a smaller one at his own place, right across from you. You asked him what he wanted for dinner and told him that he could make anything he wanted to. 712 didn't know how to answer that question (want), so you'd chosen for him in the end. 

All he knew is that he wanted something warm. 

"Have you had a good day?" you ask him. 

"There have been no problems," 712 answers. He knows that's not exactly what you're wanting, but good is still something that he struggles to quantify. 

"Mm, that's good. Have you been happy?"

"I... I don't know how to answer that, ma'am."

"That's okay. You don't have to. I'm going to ask you some questions now, okay? You try your best to answer, but if you can't, I won't be mad." You say it easily, like 712 failing is no issue at all. He feels his chest tighten up. 

"Yes, ma'am."

"What's your favorite color?" 

Ah, this kind of question again.

"I don't know, ma'am."

"What food do you like?"

"Warm things, ma'am."

"Are you tired right now?"

"I'm functional, ma'am."

The questions go on for a few minutes. They're all simple. All the kind of things that a person should be able to answer. 712 hates that he's failing you. You're asking him such easy things, and the answers that he can supply are all wrong. 

Even so, you don't get angry with him. You let him give his bad answers the whole time, and just keep asking your questions calmly. By the time you're done, the macaroni is cool enough to eat. You tell 712 to do so, then take a bite of your own food. 712 obeys you. He always eats too fast, like he'll never get more, but you never mind. 

When dinner is done, 712 picks up the dishes and carries them to the sink. He'll wash those in a few minutes. You usually want him to yourself after dinner is done. 

"Come here, Seven," you tell him. 712 shivers at the nickname. 

When he's in the living room, you have him sit on your lap. He's small enough that he fits fairly well, so it's no inconvenience to you. You turn on an episode of the same show that you've watched with him every night since this routine started. 

The show is about how various things are made. The narrator has a calm, recognizable voice. 712 'zones out' to the sound of it combined with your heartbeat by his ear. 

This is... nice. Even he can understand that much. You're warm. Human contact always makes him tense up a bit, but you're easier to deal with than everyone else. He can lay with you and let himself relax, which is a very new thing indeed. You also pet his hair or rub his back more often than not, and that makes him feel even warmer. 

He could fall asleep. That kind of thing is dangerous— or at least, it should be. It never would have been acceptable for him to let his guard down so easily back at Blight. 

But you don't care a bit. You'd be happy if he let himself relax. And making you happy is the most important thing right now. His mission is to be as good for you as he possibly can be. You're the one whose orders he follows now.

[jocelynscrazyideas]

Champagne problems | Dawson Mercer x Fem Reader

Summary: Dawson and Harper(you) get in a heated argument, but you have a past in being left alone. Dawson makes it up to by dancing in the kitchen at night, and it ends up leading to something else.

Warnings: makeup s*x, unprotected, crying, language, not proof read

PLS NOTE: I don’t think Dawson Mercer would ever LIKE EVER make someone feel this way (and idk why he would get angry abt this but he did so yuhh)

I got kinda lazy towards the end- sorry in advance🫶

You book the night train for a reason

“ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME HARPER!” Dawson yells out from our room. I hear his Newfie accent pop out. I think it’s so cute. Then. I hear pound stomps from upstairs in our home. He comes running down the stairs. He turns to face me as he scurries over at me.

Dawson throws my phone that was once in my hand and now is on the other side of the white couch, which I was comfortable sitting on. He never screams at me. I’m scared.

I’m scared.

I run for our dog, Mila. I grab our black lab and pick her up. Mila holds onto me as I run up the stairs with her. I don’t care about my phone, I need to lock myself away. I don’t even know what I did. But I’m is I’m terrified.

I dropped your hand while dancing

I run into the bathroom without a word said. I hear soft foot steps walking towards the bathroom. It’s not just a bathroom, it’s the place where we would take baths together, or when I get to drunk and he would hold my hair back when I throw up, or when he would get sick and I would shower with him.

This isn’t a home, not right now atelast. It’s a madhouse.

I’m not ready. It’s been a strong 2 years together, we have never been through a big fight where I felt I was threatened. I’m so scared I hold on to Mila, I feel like I’m going to throw up.

“please, Harper, open up. I didn’t mean to yell at you like that. But I’m upset, you pulled out like $200 out if the shared account.” Dawson has a good point to be mad at me. But he has to understand that it’s for bills. I just bought the house, it’s under my name.

“I’m sorry.” I say, and there I go. A tear is shed. Not only one, but it turns into many. I’m now bawling my eyes out. He bangs on the door. I know he’ll get mad if I don’t open the door, but I’m not ready to see him, because I truly feel guilty, but I cannot pay for the bills and in general everything on my own.

“I’m not mad anymore, I’m going to be upset if you don’t open the door baby. Are you hungry?” Dawson says in absolute despair.

My stomach dropped about 12 minutes ago, and I still can’t seem to grab it and put it back in place, my heart is doing somersaults- in a terrible way, not in a lovestruck way, more of a numbing pain. My head is pounding. I hear birds chriping through the bathroom window. I unlock the door taht im sitting against. I let Mila walk out, and I grab air. Then I walk into our bedroom. I open windows.

Love slipped beyond your reaches

And I couldn’t give a reason

Champagne problems.

I change into Dawson’s boxers, they have SpongeBob patterns on them, I picked it out. I throw on my sleep shirt. I tie my hair into a messy high bun, I let my neck hit the cold outside breeze. It’s offseason, Dawson and I are getting ready to travel back to his family’s home in a week. Right now, I’m not sure if I wnat to go.

I hear sizzling from the kitchen downstairs. And the smell of cheese, and toast. Is it Grilled cheese?

“BUBBA?!” Dawson yells out for me.

He walks up the steps with a green plate, and he steps into our room, he sees me against our bedroom wall that faces the entrance of the room. The window is above me, he come towards me. Grabs the grilled cheese and splits it.

“Did you know you look gorgeous.” Dawson says, not in a question format, but more of a statement. He opens my mouth and wipes the tear that had fell from my eye. He sticks the grilled cheese into my mouth and he looks at me, and smiles. I see his toothless corny smile. I love him.

“Come here. Baby I didn’t mean to get at you like that.” He says as he grips onto his blue t-shirt and wipes my mascara away.

“it’s my fault.” I say. I don’t want him to leave me.

We finish eating as he explains how it’s okay to take out money,but he should be able to pay, not that I should sneak the payment. He grabs my hand and he takes the plate that he placed the delicious grilled cheese on and placed it into the clean sink. He turns me around and he’s sits me on the cold counter.

“You look sexy.” He says and again, I hear his newfie accent pop out. I’m head over heels for him.

“In SpongeBob boxers?” I say sarcastically and I laugh away my sadness.

“Yes. Anything that you’re in, makes you extra sexy. And..” he says as he trails off as he nibbles at my neck. He kissed my index finger and trailed up to my left ear. I can feel his stubble.

He pushed up against me, and he kissed me. He then picked me up from the counter and twirled me down to the floor. And he continued to French kiss me. He tugs at my waist as he he tucks his head onto my neck. He’s 6”0 body leans into my 5”2 figure.

“I love you.” He whispers into my ear as he sucks into me, I’m sure there is a big bruise awaiting to be seen by his fellow teammates at holding tomorrow. Dawson is missing a tooth, but he’s still really good at giving hickeys. He starts to sway. Ironically, he starts to humthe words of champagne problems. He’s such a girl dad- not yet.

We dance in the kitchen for like an hour as we just talk. The beautiful daylight blue sky turned into a black sky lit by stars. He grabs me and sits me down on the couch that we met at earlier today.

Mila has her own bed in our bedroom, but for today she sat in her own room that she has in the main level right next to the kitchen. Dawson locks Mila in her bedroom and he sets her asleep with her night time water. He grabs me and carry’s me up the stairs. It’s like we are re-living our day.

He pushed me down the bed. He has one hand on my mid torso. And he slides his hand up, up toward my cleavage. He takes a hold of his SpongeBob boxers and slides them off. He smoothly takes my shirt off. He apply little pressure on my shoulders, an my bra is off my chest. He looks at my breast like it’s the first pair he’s ever seen. His face lits up in an eager smile. And once again I see his toothless expression. He takes my nipple into his fingers and twist them.

My breast is really tender from crying earlier today so I let out a little wince. Dawson looks down at me ready to study every little mark I have on me. He takes his shirt off. In a swft motion his shorts are also off. I see his face black boxers, but it’s accompanied by a large tent in the middle of his legs. He’s getting off by me in pain. Wierd kink.

“Daws.” I say, I’m letting him know I’m ready to take him. Dawson holds my hands up above my head and he opens his boxers, I can’t stop thinking off how that’s where he opens his pants to pee, but I take him in my mouth and he’s steady leaking everywhere.

I lick the tip of him and he screams in excitement.

He’s so easy.

He lets out a sigh as he finished inside my mouth, not letting me do any work.

“Okay pillow princess, show me how it’s done.” Dawson says as he flips me on top of him and we roll over to the other side of the bed. He lays down and he pulls off his boxers. He’s bare, I’m bare. I touch myself as I stand on top of him. I look down at him as I decide to squat down. I look at his face, he’s ready to be please, but I just took him inside of my mouth. I swalllow, but I forget… can he?

So I take his jaw in my hand and I tell him to open his mouth, he does so. He is expecting a kiss. But for me, I wnat to make him cum first. So I straddle his face, and I take his hard friend, into my mouth, once again.

Im laying on top off him, he has my clit on his mouth, and I have his dick into my throat. He’s tasty, very salty. He locks me out, and I feel like I need to piss everywhere. So I focus on my job. I need to make him cum. He goes faster on his tounge, he lifts his hips up to my face, he’s about to fall out of his momentum. He thrusts into my throat. And again, and again, he thrusts. He lets out a groan, and he starts to stick his large fingers into my hole. He sucks and fingers at my bottom half.

He’s going to play dirty, so am I. So I grab his large balls and start to rub. He starts to slap my ass, and he runs up and down my waist line. I grab his leg, and he thrusts into my mouth again, he lets out an exasperated groan, he drops his bridge down, and he slides me over.

He arrived, and I haven’t. Maybe I am better.

“No, I know what you’re thinking, you aren’t better than I am.” Dawson says as he walks over to grab a condom.

“No, I like it raw.” I say as I get up from feeling like peeing.

“Easier on me then.” Dawson says as he lifts me up and I wrap around his figure. My boobs are pressed up against his abs, my nipples are sticking straight into him. He lays me down gently as he sticks a finger inside of me. He licks his finger clean.

“You’re still pretty wet for me.” He says, “but I haven’t cummed yet.” I said, impatiently.

I push his anatomy onto me. His cock is pushed up against his abdomen. He kisses me and he did infancy swallow.

He leans back up from our special kiss, and he licks his hand, and pump onto his cock once. He grasps onto my thigh, he spreads my legs apart.

“DAWSON!” I scream out in enjoyment. I’m exhilarated. His shaft ponds into my hips. My pelvis is now perked up into his hands. I need more, but I cannot fit much more. He has so many inches inside of me,I feel like I might puncture ny uterus.

“He shushed me and started to bounce. He thrusted about 4 times before I begged him to stop. And I cimmed right there. He grabbed a tissue that sat on our nightstands, specifically for this reason.

“Okay baby. You wanna shower, or do you want to wait until tomorrow morning?” Dawson says and he always knows the answer. He made sure I wa clean and the bed sheets weren’t wet and sticky for our semen.

He wraps his legs around me, I’m little spoon, and he’s big spoon. We are skin to skin. And I feel safe in his arms as he kissed me goodnight. And I feel ready to see his family on our trip next week. And I’m glad that his friends will see my “burn mark” I got. Which we all know that Dawson took his kisses to strong and he bit and sucked on my neck to leave territory marks.

[m-le]

As someone who has watched a few Arthurian adaptations, I was immediately intrigued by „Gwen & Art are not in love“ by Lex Croucher.

I mean ur telling me we get the Arthurian myths in combination with a medieval queer love story ?!

Even though I nowadays tend to have problems starting printed literature this one flew by and I finished reading in the span of a day and a bit.

To start not only is the story great but I’m also a big fan of the cover art <3

We get not only the exploration of the queer love stories between Gwen & Bridget and Art & Gabriel but also growing Friendships and some battle action fitting for the Middle Ages.

Next to the fighting it does also have some minor alcohol abuse and partly deals with death. And since it’s the Middle Ages and people just love hating other people, the mentions of queerness etc are not always positive.

Im personally a big fan of how all the relationships evolve and the people change :)

Spoilers for the plot of the book!

Little rant from me :|

Although it was a great read and I thoroughly enjoyed every minute of it, I must admit that the typical plot of:

character a either did something accidentally wrong or is said to have done something wrong (although that’s false) and character b immediately believing that and now judging/having a grudge against/hating character a. Which then only confuses character a who doesn’t get any information from anyone around them to what they’re said to have done wrong and is jsut lost and hurt. Especially after things are jsut starting to look right between the characters.

It’s not that it is that unbelievable that it happens (it’s here and there) but more that sometimes it just annuls like every character growth the two or more characters had together and after there is never really a apology or an acknowledgment of this being hurtful to character a, since it jsut confirms taht character b would be easily able to believe this about character a. And my biggest fight with this trope is that the friend of always tend to just side with character b although they’re often both they’re friends or even character a‘s friends.

Luckily it’s not that big of a part on the book but it tends to really ick me when reading something which is really great.

Personally I just loved how Arthur helped both siblings more or less take some responsibility and self control for their own desires and life wishes. It was interesting to see the differences in how they acted around being queer, since they were raised very similar but oh so different.

Also just some special mention of my boy Sidney: he’s not only the most loyal person in the story but also is just a really amazing best friend to Arthur all while he also has his own little love story :)

It may be extremely simple but I loves the conversation Art and Sidney had about the pendant („it’s cold and black jsut like my heart“ „no, your heart is soft and yellow, like marzipan“😭)

Some other favourites of mine: we have a map of Camelot :), Bridget’s witch friend, the court magician, Excalibur nine 🙂‍↕️, everyone in the castle thinking Gwen and art were getting intimate, Gabriel’s more or less obsession with birds, background gay King Arthur/Lancelot, Agnes <3

Sometimes it was really frustrating how oblivious and sheltered Gwen was but seeing that she had not had any friends (not sure if it was explained) and also did not leave the castle, it seems realistic enough that she turned out like this. Still hard to read at a few instances. But I could definitely see how she and Gabriel are siblings as they both are really afraid of dancing out of line.

Also Arthur definitely had enough self loathing and alcohol issues for the both of them. Like, my guy, when are u sober. And also they both were immature when they were younger since they’re were children (duh) but also like how should gwen have known taht ur dad is a fcking ass (just my opinion )

I definitely do love all of the main cast so that is not meant to bash any one of them. They’re just realistic and all have flaws (although I’m not sure about Bridget she is pretty perfect :3 only female knight, noble ladies tend to fall in love with her, strong and capable, knows her boundaries (especially with not wanting to be treated like a secondary thought by her lovers)and she wields Excalibur nine) and good features. :)

Not always the biggest fan of open endings but I think here it does work well although I would have loved to see the speech and followed reaction 🤷🏻 maybe we would have seen Merlin and Morgana get back from their sabbatical hm

Spoiler ending here!

So I know it sounds negative at a few instances but do read the book it’s great. I think it’s a very easily enjoyable story that really pulls u in and makes u feel as part of the group. :))

Thsi is not eloquent or the best review in any way just me somehow bringing my feelings and thoughts to screen :) 🪼🪻

[mister-mickey]

Hi, if possible do u think u could do outsiders hc, on the topic of little quirks they would all have? Like for example idk maybe someone has like lots of stuffed toys in their bed, or like someone who enjoy weird food combos ykwim? Love love love ur writing and ty!

Asks tumblr

AH I DIDNT SEE THIS UNTIL TODAY?? lol sorry

Darry

- He used to eat glue 💔

- Like, he thought it tasted really good! His dad had to confiscate all the glue for a month because of him.

- If anyone ever mentions this he pummels them into the ground

Sodapop

- He likes to collect flowers and plants and tear them apart

- Not in a destructive way, in a “I need to keep my hands busy” way

- He especially likes tearing everything except for the spine off of a leaf, it’s his fave

Ponyboy

- he walks in circles while listening to music

- He just paces around the kitchen for actual hours and honestly it worries darry a bit

- He’s having the time of his life though, even if he looks crazy doing it

Twobit

- he refuses to drink things normally, he always chugs whatever he’s got

- His record is 20 seconds for a gallon of milk

- He feels awful afterwards but it’s worth it to him for some reason

Steve

- He still plays with the toy cars that Mr. Curtis got him as a kid

- Secretly of course, but soda knows and just doesn’t say anything

- But he’ll be in his bedroom going “vroom!” With them. He loves mimicking car crashes

Dally

- he LOVES those tiny glass animals!

- He steals a bunch of them every-time he sees them, just because they’re so TINY AND THEY FIT IN HIS FIST SO EASILY

- He doesn’t play with them or anything but he still likes looking at them. He’s got them shoved in his dresser with his underwear.

Johnny

- he collects things from the schools lost and found lmao

- He’s not usually much of a thief, but he can’t help himself. He loves all the weird clothes especially

- Sometimes he wears the clothes he took to school to see if anyone recognizes them (so far nobody has. He would be scared shitless if someone realizes)

Tim

- he doesn’t wear pajamas, he straight up goes to sleep in the clothes he wore all day

- Like, jeans and leather jacket. He has woken up multiple times to see that his arms are both asleep

- He says it’s because he doesn’t care, but he actually outgrew all his pajamas and doesn’t want to get new ones

Angela

- she steals peoples pets

- Sometimes she returns them for money, but usually she keeps them until either they run away or Tim kicks them out

- She’s an animal girlie what can I say. She names them all variations of Angela too (Angel, Angie, lala, etc…)

Curly

- he still sleeps with the stuffed rabbit he had as a kid

- It’s got one ear completely gone because he chewed it off as a kid

- Tim and Angela tease him to no end but he knows they wouldn’t ever tell anyone. He hopes that at least.

Bryon

- mf hates cats

- He’s not superstitious at all, but he’s convinced taht they’re bad luck

- Maybe they just remind him of Angela idk, but he will scowl and groan if he sees one (loser alert!)

Mark

- he loves worms so much man

- He picks them up and holds them in his hand until he eventually drops it. He goes digging for them sometimes

- he is a hero and saves them after it rains! He picks them all up and puts them back in the grass

Cathy

- adores porcelain dolls. She isn’t really a materialistic person, but she used to have one and she still loves them

- The outfits? The hair? She wants one so bad but she doesn’t ever buy one because it’s “a waste” and she’s “too old for them”

- But she stares at them for so long when she’s in the store

M&M

- he gets cold so easily!!! Warm this boy up!

- He wears jacket after jacket but still gets cold, his bed has a million blankets on top, it’s like a mountain

- Ofc, this means winter is his least fave season, this kid turns straight up blue in winter

[fieldofdaisiies]

Azris | Trapped

type: angst warning(s): talks about trauma, anxiety, claustrophobia word count: 2.6k words summary: this is loosely based on the scene in Teen Wolf where Isaac gets locked in; Azriel finds himself locked in a trap in the Autumn Court and memories come back to him of how his father used to lock him in when he was a child. Azriel sees red, thinks he will never escape, and does not at all expect the person who comes to his rescue

- all rights reserved -

Trapped. The word reverberates through Azriel’s mind, an echo of utter panic that tightens around his chest and constricts his throat.

He can’t breath anymore — he feels like he is getting suffocated. There is this torrent of memories and emotions, harsh feelings and horror inside of him and his mind swirls, his vision is blurry, his head feels dizzy. He is trapped. He is locked in. He is locked in once again. Fear sinks icy claws into his skin, into his throat and an icy shiver dances down his spine, as panic takes hold. 

His heart is racing as fast as a wild stallion galloping, his skin clammy with cold sweat. He is rocking back and forth and sees red, the blood rushing in his ears so loud it drowns out all words of comfort Eris tries to say to him. His words don’t reach the shadowsinger, don’t reach Azriel’s brain, and neither does the pain that should erupt in Azriel’s knuckles from how hard he punched the door. The spymaster is panting, his hands folded behind his head, while he is shivering and shaking on the ground, cool air wheezing in and out of his lungs and burning in his windpipe.

“Get me out, get me out!” he pleads again and again. The linoleum underneath him does nothing to cool the burn in his blood, the panic and the fear still blazing through his veins, making cold sweat run down his back and turn his skin damp. “I am locked in,” the shadowsinger cries out, his scarred and bloody knuckles turning white from how tightly he has his hands clasped together. 

“You are free, Azriel,” Eris whispers in a calming voice, his chest squeezing at the sight of the male in front of him. The High Lord is shocked, has not expected to find the spymaster of the Night Court like that. It is a trap the new High Lord built up for intruders who kept coming to his court, to the Forest House, bothering him and spying on him. He has expected Azriel to come across this trap at some point, but he has not expected him to walk straight into the trap and then end up like this. 

The new High Lord of Autumn doesn’t really know what to do, how to act, he has never seen the cold and always brooding shadowsinger so devastated, so vulnerable. 

“Azriel,” Eris tries again and takes a step into the room, not too quick and not too loud to not startle the spymaster any more. “Azriel, your free.”

But Azriel does not hear this, he exhales a loud, sobby breath, his whole body shuddering. And so Eris does the only thing he can think of. He walks even close, crouches down and slowly moves his hands to Azriel, gently placing them on his knees. “Azriel—“ The shadowsinger jerks backwards, eyes bloodshot and full of tears when he his head lifts promptly and in horror he looks at Eris. He is sitting with one arm holding the other at the elbow. Panic and dread collide inside of Azriel, the flood of memories in his brain just increasing. He stares at Eris and it is all he does for a long moment, his brain empty safe for the haunting memories and traumatic events of his past. “I…” “What is going on?” Eris asks, his voices much softer than Azriel has expected it and tinged with nothing but sympathy. It is so gentle, so kind, so empathetic, taht some part of Azriel’s heart can find a little comfort. 

“Is there anything I can do? Anything I can do for you?” 

Hold me in your arms until the memories vanish, Azriel thinks, but does not say so. He gives his head a little shake when more tears dampen his lashes. His throat burns, the back of his mouth aches, his chest feels hollow, his heart empty. There is this endless void inside of the shadowsinger that somehow seems to increase with every memory that pops up in his brain, that seems to one day swallow him wholly. Azriel’s shadows are a vivid nest, swirling around him uncontrollably. Eris has a hard time to break through them, to make Azriel see him cleary. “Azriel!” he says in louder voice. “How can I help you? What is going on? Are you hurt?”

But Azriel does the only thing he can, the only thing he has been doing for years — he pushes Eris away, pushes the people away that care and that want to help. He gives the High Lord a shove that makes Eris tumble a little, but he catches himself. “Don’t ever shove me again, or were you going to fight me to the ground again like in the High Lord’s meeting all those years ago?” Eris grumbles, his features sharp all of a sudden. But they don’t stay like that, his expression softens when he sees how Azriel’s lower lip starts to quiver, his chin as well and another breathy sob parts Azriel’s lips. “You are hurt.” A statement, not a question. “Not physically!” Azriel bites out and it is almost a shout, his hands now forming fists at his sides. Eris furrows his brows a little, not understanding what Azriel might be referring to. 

“Leave me alone!” Azriel’s whole body shudders when he spits the words, his blood-red eyes staring right into Eris’ russet ones. “Leave me!”

“You are in my court,” Eris answers loudly, but in a more gentle tone he adds, “And you are clearly not well. I…I…how can I help you?”

“I don’t need your help!” Azriel shouts. Tears have dried on his cheeks, but new ones roll out of his eyes a moment later. Air is wheezing in and out of his lungs while he is shaking, rocking back and forth. “Just leave me alone. I want to be alone.” “That is the only thing I won’t do. I won’t leave you alone like this. You either talk to me or I will just stay until I make sure you are alright.” “I am alright.” “You are crying on my dungeon floor, you are not alright. Don’t take me for a fool, Azriel.” With that the High Lord plops down on the ground, his crown shifting a little on his head. He looks so un-High-Lord-like in this moment, sitting on the slightly dusty floor, his forearms braced on his knees, his shoulders hunched a little. 

“It is my new trap,” Eris says after a dreadfully long moment of silence. The silence has gotten too unbearable for the High Lord, he couldn’t stand it any longer, he had to speak up. “I had many intruders here lately and I wanted to make sure—“ “Just shut up!” Azriel’s head hangs low, his hands once again crossed behind his neck, elbows braced on his knees. He is still shivering. 

Eris does shut up, his chest squeezing a little when he slowly moves to sit next to Azriel. He is not going to leave him, not like that. He doesn’t really know why — he could just leave, it would definitely be the more logic option. If there only wasn’t the…bond — that fucking stupid mating bond that connects him to the spymaster of the Night Court. But obviously Azriel is too dimwitted to have acknowledged their connection already. And Eris has anyway no idea how they would deal with it.

The High Lord sighs when he rests his head against the wall, his thigh brushing Azriel’s, his skin tingling a little where they touch. He lets his eyes fall shut, finally having a moment of calm between all his High Lord appointments and the constant pressure. Azriel is silently sobbing beside him, shifting a little from time to time.

“Isn’t that tedious?” Azriel whispers after a moment, his voice sounding steadier. He can’t believe that the High Lord of Autumn would truly stay with him until he calms down. Why would Eris do this? 

His heart starts to slow a little, his mind is getting a little calmer when he directs his thoughts towards Eris, towards his…kindness. Azriel shivers and finally pulls his arms back, and lifts his head a little. He turns his head slightly, giving the High Lord next to him a sidelong glance. 

“Is it?”

His eyes still closed, Eris purses his lips and shakes his head. “No, it is not,” he says matter-of-factly but honestly. Azriel keeps looking at him, his eyes tracing his features. Eris is a good-looking male. He has sharp features, but in this moment there is something about him that makes him look kind and not cruel like he is known to be. Azriel watches how Eris’ broad chest heaves with a deep inhale and only then realises how long he has already been looking at him and so slowly averts his gaze.

“Why are you here, Eris?”

“Because I know what it feels like to be alone when you are feeling your worst and it is not a good feeling.” 

Azriel’s chest convulses at that statement, a cold shiver running down his spine and making horror sink icy claws into his skin. Azriel shivers again, and releases a shuddering sigh. “No, it isn’t.”

He rests his own head against the wall and closes his eyes, falling into the silence as well. His heart slows more and more, his breathing turning from ragged to even again. The flashbacks vanish, mostly disappearing until Azriel decides to open up as well. Eris opened up, it would only be fair to do it as well. He has to talk about it at some point, and why not do it now? Well, because it would mean opening up to Eris, his sworn nemesis. But maybe it is easier to open up to someone like him than to people he has known for his whole life? 

The shadowsinger swallows around the lump in his throat, the back of his mouth aching again when tears start to burn behind his eyes. Azriel doesn’t even really make sense to himself, but then he parts his lips and says, “My father used to lock me in when I was a child.” His voice is so cold, his statement so quick, but it destroys a little part of Eris’ heart and his eyes open quickly. He turns his head to look at Azriel — the spymaster is already looking at him, his expression almost like he expects the High Lord to laugh at him. Azriel is rubbing the back of his neck, while Eris just looks at him, eyes slowly assessing Azriel’s face. 

Eris rolls his shoulders back. “I know what that feels like. My father did that too.” Shock is etched into Azriel’s features, like he can almost not believe that Eris had to go through the same when he was younger. “I think I will never forget about it. Those memories they just…they just—“

“Keep coming back. Keep haunting you. Even in your dreams they are always present.” 

Azriel slowly inclines his head and a few tears roll out of his eyes. “I don’t want to be so weak. So vulnerable, so pathetic.” Eris features soften a little bit, but a pained look appears on his face — he is sharing Azriel’s negative feelings, knows them all too well. “You are not weak, Azriel,” Eris whispers, and then just reaches out to touch Azriel. He simply places his hand on Azriel’s, a small gesture, but it means the world to Azriel. People are always hesitant about touching his scarred hands, the marred skin scaring some, disgusting others. But not Eris, he has no problem touching him, his fingers curling around Azriel’s hand in a gentle hold. 

“You wouldn’t be here today if you were weak.” Eris keeps a steady eye-contact that is comforting, not invasive and finally offers a small smile that communicates acceptance and empathy. Eris is only a little surprised that Azriel lets him hold his hand, but it is a good and warm feeling, soothing and welcoming. 

“He would lock me in the dungeon in the home he built for my step-mother. She had the keys, sometimes she wouldn’t let me out for hours, sometimes days. I got so used to the darkness that at some point I let the darkness become me.”

Eris wants to answer, but Azriel’s small yelp interrupts him. Eris jumps a little, accidentally having leaned onto Azriel’s wings that lifelessly rests on the floor behind the shadowy male. “Sorry,” Eris breaths, somethow wanting to soothe the pain he might have caused Azriel.

“It is fine, don’t worry,” Azriel says, a small smile on his lips. It does not reach his eyes, but he is a good way of getting better. “Beron, did he…did he…?” “In a big chest behind his throne room. He would keep me in there for hours. Most days until I stopped screaming and crying.” Azriel swallows thickly at the revelation and now he is the one to squeeze Eris’ hand, leaning in just a little more.

“Seems like we have more in common than we have expected.” Eris smiles sadly. He averts his gaze and looks at the wall opposite him, staring holes into the into it. 

“We have our fucked up pasts in common,” Azriel says and chuckles a little coldly. “And?”

“And that we have a hard time telling anyone? Or have you told more people so far?”

“I haven’t,” Azriel answers, his hand feeling so good in Eris’ hold. “Have you?” Eris shakes his head and exhales loudly. 

Azriel’s shoulder presses against Eris’ when he leans in more. “How do you deal with it?”

“I don’t really deal with it. I mostly try to ignore it.” Eris turns his head again, his gaze momentarily dropping to Azriel’s lips. “I think I just avoid thinking about it too much, and when the memories come back I am a mess but somehow always pull myself back together.” 

Azriel’s chest heaves with a deep inhale and he tells Eris that it is the same for him. “But it feels good…to have talked about it.” Eris smiles again, his skin warming a little more. He lowers his gaze, stares into his lap, then to where his one hand still holds Azriel’s. “It does,” he mumbles and feels Azriel loosen up even a bit more. The shadowsinger hums lowly, his fingers twitching a little bit, but he does not pull back from the hold. He somehow relishes Eris’ comforting presence, his warmth, and the light he brought along with him. Also…that he saved him. He unlocked the door, did not let him suffer. “You could have let me locked in…” Azriel then says, looking at Eris’ whose gaze is still trained on the their hands. “I know,” Eris says and offers no more of an answer, but his expression speaks volumes. But I could not let you suffer. I could not keep you locked in. 

And that does something to Azriel. It makes his chest warm from the inside out, his soul starting to glow with an odd feeling that irritates Azriel. 

“I think I should leave now,” the shadowsinger then says after a moment. “Thank you.” “There is nothing you have to thank me for.”

And even though he said he had to leave, he does not leave. He stays, and that for a long moment. He stays until the sun has fully set outside, until another conversation has started and finished and they have agreed on meeting again, to talk about their pasts as they found someone that understands and they can share their traumas with. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

tags: @azrielsbabyg@lady-riel@moonlightazriel@aayo-whatt@brekkershadowsinger@ladyelain@banasheefan56 @a-frog-with-a-laptop @ofduskanddreams

[sweetpeaches666]

Just to tell you some info about aziza’s species (qerhet khufan, I literally need to set my mind on what name fits it the most), her grandmother, isis. She is the pharaoh of their species. She is the most powerful of her species and even has wings like the isis from ancient Egyptian mythology.

It’s also worth mentioning she is very, verrry old, way old. But she still look young because of her magic. Isis is a stern and cold woman, she doesn’t care much about her older children since they remind him of a tragedy she went through when she was a young girl.

She does care about her people, and makes sure they are well taken care of because of how they were treated back then because of a relative of hers took the throne after they killed her older brother Osiris.

But for her younger kids (like aziza’s dad, hotep) it’s clear she likes them more.

When isis first learned about Ben’s existence, she was at first angry at one of her kids for recklessly giving their dna to someone and it resulted into a hybrid child (ben).

After Ben visited the palace for the first time, he did feel isis was not the warmest person ever, but she was not hostile towards him at all, she was welcoming and made sure he was comfortable.

Her younger twin sister nephthys, was more of a doting grand aunt who would not stop trying to show Ben affection.

Ben did hear a lot of bad stuff about her, even when he read their history book on anur khufos.

But when he spent more time with her, and learns more about her. He start to realize she was never a bad woman. She went through so much suffering taht she had to do unforgivable stuff just to keep herself, her siblings and her kingdom safe from dangerous path.

Ben was shocked when he learned how old is she, he even asked her: why do you even argue with grandpa Amun?? You are way older than him.

Her respond: he is stupid, just like his father, and grandfather. I never stop arguing with them till the day I will never die. Your uncle ra will be my next target. (She is also much more taller than them)

I love it. Isis getting into fights with people who are younger than her. Poor Ben will be dealing with family drama with these two.

I legit imagine that Ben became her favorite after Aziza.

[giggly-moon]

(Elpenor Anon)

okay

since the crew has been on the sea and been together since the war, they really became a family. And like how families do, they tease each other relentlessly. Especially Elpenor, since he’s the youngest and he deserves it 75% of the time. they like to bring how angry and angsty he was when he came on the ship and he is embarrassed by it.

The crew overcame toxic masculinity and are willing to cry or hug each other. sometimes, you see them cuddling if they miss home that much.

they shared stories to each other, to the point they know each other personal lives.

When they were mock-sword fighting, they thought they would win against Elpenor, only to be shocked taht he’s an excellent swordsman and only lost because he tripped. but when he was winning, that was the happiest they ever saw him.

Eurylochus decided to take Elpenor under his wing.

Elpenor refers to the crew as his family, and makes sure that no one hears him when he’s says that.

YESSS I LOVE IMAGINING THE CREW AS ONE BIG FAMILY AFTER ALL THEYVE BEEN THROUGH TOGETHER. it’s amazing how much being stuck on a ship together and enduring ten long years of war together can serve as a great bonding experience. and most of them have families back home that they haven’t been able to see in a whole decade, but having the rest of the crew there as like a second family is a huge comfort to them.

oh these guys definitely start working past that deeply ingrained toxic masculinity they all have the closer they all get with each other, and you bet that at least half of it is thanks to polites being their resident Ship Therapist. cause he’s the most in tune with his own emotions and the emotions of others, and he would definitely take it upon himself to help teach this ship full of angsty traumatized soldiers that it’s okay to cry when you’re feeling upset.

also seriously one of my absolute favorite tropes is platonic cuddling (mostly because of me being aroace but still craving physical affection/intimacy) so sometimes the men can be spotted leaning on each other or huddling together or hugging when they’re upset, cold or tired. elpenor can be a bit shy when it comes to snuggling up against another soldier, but sometimes he’ll lean his head on someone’s shoulder when he’s upset or bored or he’ll fall asleep curled up against someone’s side.

(also cashlyn and i had a conversation about this before but apparently the ancient greeks liked to kiss their homies quite a lot so. do with that information as you will)

BUT THAT’S SO CUTE AND SO FITTING, elpenor is just full of surprises. they really wouldn’t expect this tiny twig boy to be so good at fighting and then the next thing they know they’re on their back with a wooden sword pointed at their chest. and he was just so full of genuine joy and excitement as he was rubbing it in their face that they couldn’t bring themselves to be all that salty about it

and i fucking adore the dynamic of the serious, cautious, kind of a stick in the mud character acting as a mentor figure to the resident energetic devious gremlin of the ship that is just constantly getting into trouble. eurylochus is always having to intervene when elpenor is about to do something stupid (which is very often) and he will hem and haw about it on the outside but on the inside he loves this lil rascal to death, even if he gives him a heart attack like at least once a day

[blackhairedjjun]

IM SO SORRY I FOLLOW SO MANY BLOGS I FORGET WHO WRITES WHAT IM SO SO SO SO SORRY😭😭🙏🙏but luckily I’m the biggest hopeless romantic in the world😛 I was wondering if you could write jun teaching the reader how to ice skate? I saw a clip of smthn like that on TikTok and it was so cute😭 but again I’m so so sorry I didn’t realize this was an only sfw blog😭 I didn’t mean to try and step over any boundaries and I still love your work no matter what!! ANYWAY TAHTS ALL I HOPE YOURE DOING AMAZING!!!!

aww it's okay no worries!! and yeah there are lots of lovely writing blogs out there, it's okay to get confused <3

ice skating with jjunie... OH THAT'S SO CUTE 🥺 i imagine him being a pro figure skater for this hehe

when you ask him to teach you how to skate his whole face lights up and his eyes sparkle, he's so excited to share his passion with you! he won't stop giggling and talking as he drives you to the rink where he practices. on the drive you feel your heart racing and you aren't sure if it's from excitement or nervousness -- on one hand, yeonjun's giddiness is infectious and you've wanted to try this for such a long time, on the other hand you're afraid that you'll be terrible at it and test his patience.

you have nothing to worry about though because he's just overjoyed to be able to skate with you anyway. he teaches you the basics first: to balance yourself, to march on the ice, to do short glides and stop, and how to fall safely. every time you manage to glide or march a bit, yeonjun looks at you with a soft smile, eyes shining from how willing you are to learn and try things out. "that's it, baby! you've got this," he says as you manage to skate on your own for a short distance.

he always handles you gently when he corrects your form, careful not to push you off balance by accident. he'll use his hands to position your shoulders or back to the right posture, his touch soft yet firm, explaining how to keep yourself balanced and safe. "careful, love, i don't want you to get hurt."

when yeonjun teaches you how to fall properly you're nervous, but he stands close by with his arms out so that he can catch you if you fall the wrong way. it reassures you, and when you manage to fall and then get up safely he skates towards you, the biggest smile on his face, then takes your face in his hands. "see? you did it!" he squeezes your cheeks and you both laugh.

once you've gotten the hang of it the two of you just skate around the rink holding hands, and the cold of the rink is nothing against the warmth that you feel. yeonjun's heart flutters when you lean on him for support when your balance is shaky, and already he's planning another skating day with you when his schedule allows it <3

[lavendelhummel]

I'll admit I haven't read your fic because I haven't actually seen Warehouse 13, but I do have the assumption that you went through a phase as a kid where you *really* (and I mean really) wanted to be a mermaid (based on your mermaid AU, of course)

Hii! Wow, you were so quick to send this! That’s so cool!

Can I use this as a chance to point out that I wrote a WoT or rather Siuairaine mermaid story as well? ;) It’s much shorter and not very logical, more vibes, but it felt so nice to write that wonderful nonsense! I think it’s my favorite fic actually? At least out of all my Siuaraine ones!

I am not sure if that phase was that strong as a kid. I always liked water and water magic and these things. Underwater wolds fascinated me a lot. And swimming, normal swim training my parents first enforced for safety, and in the ocean! I was insatiable and made everyone come swimming in the cold waves with me. My grandma only told me in recent years that she doesn’t actually like swimming and just went with me. It’s still the same for me though. Underwater it all calms down. It feels very magical.

But back to fic, the first story longer than what you could call a one-shot in fanfic terminology I ever wrote at 10 years old was about a girl discovering her magic water powers, also about some eco-activism related to that (she was connected to the ocean, in oder to fight pollution). So there was always that I guess? Unfortunately I never finished that masterpiece and have no idea where that folder ended up.

But the mermaid fic ideas are piling! The first one (dreaming of waves, the WoT one) was quickly written. The second one was an elaborate Siuaraine AU about a second breaking of the world having sunken Cairhien (like atlantis) and all the Cairhiens having become mermaids through evolution, but also distant legend no human actually believes in, least of all cynic Siuan. That is until she sees mermaid!Moiraine who swam to far to see a human and to get away from the cruelty of her people (the mermaid!Cairhiens eat human lungs to do their gas exchanges). Saidar also changed over time and those who can touch it have the ability to turn into the other human/mermaid. I had a few fun chapter ideas, the first few with lines echoing in my head for weeks, and a happy ending (them living together on a houseboat with river-garden on the Erinin), but no actual plot. And I wanted to write it so badly! But I didn’t have time and in the end this is still an idea in my little notebook. The other one is the washing machine one I am writing now, first I thought about Moiraine for that too, but then I noticed how much better that fits for Helena and then it built in my mind until I couldn’t not write it. And now yesterday I had another B&W mermaid idea (canon, artifact taht turns someone fish-y). Oh and the one I put in the tags of a picture I reblogged a few weeks ago (with pilot!Helena and mermaid!Myka). Oh and multiple Selkie-AU ideas for Siuaraine! I think I wrote sort of an essay on that metaphor in some ao3 comments last year?

We will see how much gets written before this obsession ends. It started pretty much exactly one year ago when I was alone on a weekend-trip in Maastricht, looking down to the river, and found cool gender-inclusive mermaid stickers at HEMA, and suddenly I needed to sit in a café and write that first fic while eating hummus. It was great. But: I’ll shut up now about the mermaid fics!

Thank you so much for your assumption kicking me off to think about the origins of my ideas!!!

[epic-sorcerer]

I want…pitty. Please give me pitty. Like…in the notes and maybe like tagging me in some nice things like puppies or stims gifs or fanart

I think I sprained my ankle. I was jumping on my bed bc I was having that adhd hyperactivity can’t control when I move thing

I’m in so much pain. Tylonal, ice, bio freeze, and ibeprophen combined did little. We’re going to emergency room soon

Doesn’t help that today I had a terrible amps attack and I’m still having it. Lgiht heading and nauseous and no doubt is why my ankle don’t feel ang better after the pain meds

And with my amps..,I really need to move. A lot. Idk what I’m gonna do for the 48 hrs I can’t do nothing

Not onyl taht, but for the next 2 days I have fucking midtemrs and I wasn’t prepared for them anyway and already sent a resqedual request but stil!!

I’m just fucknig miserable jsut…I know it’s sorta a taboo for a disabled person to actually ASK for pity bc we’re always telling ppl to not pity us but.,,ugh

Not onyl taht but I’ve got my fucking school who I might have to sue for disability civil rights violation. And now I’ll come back of school after the weekend even mroe disabled.

Fucking. Blairing loud ass echoy distorted pop music. Once on Mondays and twise on Fridays. And we had to fight to get it down to taht many times. And I have to leave my most important class(special Ed help) 5 min early. Now I’ll probably have to leave 10 min early. And stay outside in the fucking ridget cold in a boot with my bare foot out and I’m so so sensitive to the cold

Fuck my life fuck my life fuck my life!!!!!!!!!

[cass1x1]

[ GUIDE ] for jae/yeol

@kimsgoeun

[ GUIDE ] : in order to guide the receiver, sender presses a hand against the small of their back.

To say Jae was seeing read was a deep understatement. He generally tried to see himself as someone who didn't resort to physical violence when it wasn't necessary, but in that moment, it seemed like his only option was to rip another man's throat out of his body. That way, he couldn't say such awful things anymore. Jae's fingers curled up, his hand balling into a fist, but before he had a chance to put that fist into the asshole's face, probably breaking his stupid glasses in the process, he felt something behind him.

It took him a moment, in his absolute rage, to register Yeol's presence. Funny, it was the first time he'd been able to go a moment without thinking about how pissed he was at Yeol's for his part in this goddamn farce, and all because he'd found someone worse. But there he was, his hand strangely cool on Jae's back. "If you'll excuse us," he said, his face and voice the usual, implacable mask.

He pushed ever so slightly, and Jae found himself moving, possibly against his own will, alongside Yeol. Away from the asshole, and then away from the entire party. It wasn't until they were out of the elevator and back in Yeol's office that Jae seemed to come back to himself. He glanced at Yeol. Everything about him seemed normal, except for his eyes. They had a certain sharpness to them, a glint Jae didn't quite recognize.

Still, without knowing what was going on, Jae's only option was defiance. "What the--"

"I can't have you starting a fist fight at a fundraiser," Yeol said calmly, tugging his tie loose.

The rage bubbled up inside Jae again, though he wasn't so much of an asshole taht he'd take it out on Yeol. Even if Yeol partially deserved it to. "Then maybe don't take money from corrupt asswipes."

Yeol was hunched over, resting his hands on his desk. It was a position that hid his face from view. Not that his face gave JAe much to work with. He was always so fucking perfect, so handsome and serene and detached, like none of this mattered. Maybe Jae should take his anger out on him. "I didn't know," he said, and there was almost an emotion behind his voice. Like that glint from before, it wasn't enough for Jae to recognize. But it was there. "I didn't know, but obviously, now, we'll be cutting ties with his entire company. Probably a few others too, just to be safe."

It absolutely took the wind from Jae's sails. He hadn't expected that in the least. The idea that Yeol might care--that Yeol might do something because it was the right thing to do, and not just because it would make his precious company money--it hadn't occurred to Jae. Not even as the faintest possibility. The hot anger he'd been feeling fizzled, leaving him cold, unsteady. "Oh..." He looked away. He could sense Yeol's eyes on him, but meeting each other on a level wasn't really their thing. So he kept his eyes fixed on the wall. "So why'd you drag me away?"

"I didn't drag you," Yeol said immediately. Then, more softly, "If you had a fight, it'd be an incident. It could make him look like the good guy. If we just pull away, then it looks like we know something. It makes it seem worth looking into." Jae had to admit, it was a solid plan. Expose the asshole for the scum he was, without giving him a moral high ground to stand on. No violence, but that could be forgiven. "Besides, that's a very expensive suit. It will cost a lot to get blood out of it." Jae cracked a smile and turned back, only for Yeol to turn away again. Still, it wasn't enough to hide a little pink in his cheeks. Oh god, he was embarrassed for making a joke that was actually funny. What in god's name was Jae supposed to make of that?