#could I have looked in the attic for lights yes did I want to No

[mozart-the-meerkitten]

most sane people, upon finding that they bought the wrong kind of Christmas lights: oh I'll just return them

me, tired of going to stores to buy lights, has not desire to try and return them to the dollar store and desperately wants to decorate her little tree it is December ELEVENTH for crying out loud: screw it I'm gonna make this work

yes, yes I did spend probably an hour of my life untangling a garland string of lights (which apparently means multiple small strings of lights are woven together into one big strand/cord of lights) to wrap them around my tiny Christmas tree. And then I hung the rest from a pushpin I had on my wall xD lighting is bad here so you can't see it in its full glory but here's a different shot so you know how unhinged this feels

I don't know why the blue light is Like That I'm sorry

[3archangelsaints]

I'm actually dying and living for the idea that Simon Riley is such a hard worker for you. Being a soldier doesn't pay much, but considering how frugal he is, and how often he's overseas, he has money. Not rich, but with your income too, you could have what you wanted. You wanted to move to have a house, garden and all. Massive house. A few dogs. Marriage. He'd let you decorate how you wanted but he kept you in check, knowing sometimes you got overwhelmed with choices.

Luckily, his squad mates, who'd become family to you were there to be useful, who'd helped reduce renovation prices, ironically Price was in charge of delegation and keeping to the budget. The house was furnished and then painted. It was painted within a week, a light beige and brown undertones, you strictly stated no pure white as you said it was depressing. Clinical. Not homey. They all agreed.

Soon you were on Simon's shoulders, wrapping yellow led lights around the roof cover on the deck leading to the massive garden. Gaz and Soap were in charge of the music. You loved having everyone around for renovations because it made it an experience, made memories.

Price was finishing up on the phone to someone, someone you didn't know but it wasn't out of the ordinary. They were going to go on a mission soon. You paused and then you smiled. Feeling content.

After everything was done, you'd sat down and had takeout with everyone. And then there was a knock on the door, your head turning.

Price is up and at the door, in comes Laswell. Kate. Holding a drycleaning bag and you see your siblings and parents and friends walk in. You look confused. Dropping the food to greet then. Bewildered.

Then your niece snatches some food from your plate so you hug her from behind and lift her up as she laughs and pushes you off, complaining she's too mature.

And next thing you know Simon is on his knees. Handing you a simple band. "Will you marry me?" He knows its a yes, but he knows you'd love the on one knee thing, technically, he'd proposed with a promise ring, so he knew.

Next thing you know, you're being pushed into your room, into a wedding gown you'd shown Gaz and Soap one time when Simon had been deployed on a solo mission. You get married at the courthouse and had an intimate celebration in the garden at dark.

It was everything you wanted. Giggles and laughter as Simon's eyes never leave you, watching you keenly as you giggle and cheer in celebration. It's a shame he'd gotten married in his gear, but he was being deployed and had to leave by 5 am, they all did. You loved it. It was part of him, gear and all and his seargents and captain. And Kate. Bless her.

And soon you were saying bye to them all, Simon kissed you and then they were gone. Out the door and he took your heart with him. Kate came up and hugged you. She was like a mum to you. You hugged her back tightly, and she helped you set up sleeping situations for your friends and family. There were 2 guest bedrooms and a study, and the attic had space enough for all your friends.

Laswell helped you out the dress and take off your makeup, she'd undid your hair, brushing it for you and it was soothing. Like a kid being cared for. You went to bed in shorts and an old hoodie of Simon's. Laswell cuddled you to sleep, you didn't want to be alone and she knew that.

She saw the wound in your heart as they left. She was packing the open wound with gauze, it was painful, but right now, her doting was stopping the bleed.

I should actually do a long fanfic or even series of this cause I love the idea.

[the-fiction-witch]

Little Lamb

Media - The Artful Dodger Character - Jack Dawkins Couple - Jack X Reader Reader - Miss Y/n Y/l/n Rating - 18 (Blood / Gore / Nudity) Word Count - 2609

Jack was working late in the morgue everyone else in the small hospital already fast asleep, but he tinkered away under the electric lights in the hospital basement practicing a new surgical technique on a fresh cadaver. Every so often checking his book and struggling with the swirling words to understand what he was meant to be doing.

However, the silence soon came to a end as he heard footsteps. Jack's eyes shot up from his book to the entrance of the morgue he’d left the doors open as he never lived being shut in here so late, he was concerned for a moment but soon realised it was just Y/n. Jack had a lot of affection for Y/n, he would very nearly say he loved her, she was a nurse in the hospital and the two spent an awful lot of time together. He wanted to make her his wife but… the rules and social etiquette of Victorian dating were something Jack didn’t understand and frankly couldn’t be bothered to learn,

Jack let out a sigh of relief. "Don't sneak up on me like that."

Y/n stood in the doorway in her little silk nightgown her curls loose around her, clearly she'd been in bed. But she carried a book in hand, "I didn't mean to spook you, Jack,"

Jack’s eyes wandered her body for a moment before focusing again. "What are you doing down here? You should be asleep."

"I had a question" She hurried inside shutting the door softly,

Jack turned his body more to her. "A question? You do know it's the middle of the night, right?"

"Well you’re awake, I'm awake. And I have questions" she shurgged opening her book and flicking through her various notes,

Jack let out a soft groan, but didn't protest. "Alright, go ahead."

"... Mr Clarke in bed seven. We've been dosing him on morphie and noticing his shaking and trembling hasn't stopped I pondered... Did we ask if he smoked?"

Jack sat there for a moment, processing. He mentally slapped himself for forgetting to ask such an important question the last time he spoke to the patient. "No, we didn't ask."

"Could that not be why he's trembling given he hasn't been allowed or able to smoke for the last four days?"

Jack leaned against the table, and let out a sigh. "That's... very much possible. Good point. I can't believe I forgot to ask. Bloody hell.” Jack looked at her again, “Is this what you do at night?”

“How so?”

“Just lay in bed with your note book thinking about patients?”

“... Yes,” She nodded, “why? What do you do in bed?”

“Sleep,” He answered,

“I mean like before you fall asleep,”

“...Drink. Or gamble.” he explained, “Or… think about you,” He suggested trying to give her waist a playful tickle but she elbowed his stomach before he even got close,

“Hands to yourself Doctor Dawkins,”

"So... why such... little clothing?" he smirked,

"I thought I was asking you questions not the other way around?"

He chuckled, “I’m curious,”

"what's wrong with it?"

He was quiet for a moment, his eyes wandering her body again. "Nothing at all. Just very... revealing."

"it's Australia. Its summer. Our bedrooms are both in the attic. Oddly enough I'm hot." She explained, "Besides why is what I wear to bed any of your business."

A smirk formed on his face, as he jokingly said, "Never said I didn't like it. Besides… it’s nice to know what you wear to bed, I can better imagine you now.”

she rolled her eyes "Anyway... I've been considering Mrs gains I don't think she actually has muscle pain... I think she has hysteria"

He raised an eyebrow. "Hysteria? Why do you think that?"

"... She complains about every... Three weeks or so coincidentally the time her husband goes out of town for business, complaining about muscle pain in her upper thigh, and every time we send either you or sneed over to give her a thigh massage that seems to fix it. I don't think she actually has anything wrong with her... Just wants a man to touch her while her husband's away"

It took Jack a moment to process everything that she'd said and then he let out a sigh and ran his hand over his face. "So... Mrs Gains only complains about muscle pain in her thigh every three weeks. Coincidentally the time her husband goes out of town... she complains about it to us so we send over me or Snead to give her a 'thigh massage' and then suddenly it's all fixed as soon as her husband arrives home again.. correct?"

"exactly, does that not seem suspicious to you?"

Jack stood there for a moment, thinking. It did sound rather suspicious, "I suppose but... she's married. Surely she wouldn't cheat on her husband. Right?"

"I don't think she wants to cheat on her husband I think she just likes having you boys massage he upper thigh"

Jack let out a sigh, "Bloody hell.. I've been spending hours just massaging her thigh while her husband is away for work? Christ."

"yeah exactly" she Nodded

Jack groaned again and rubbed his eyes, before looking at Y/n again "How'd you even come up with the idea she might have hysteria anyway?"

"... When you break it down that's all female hysteria is jack, it's women fainting and faking for attention so doctors go over and make them feel better"

Jack sat silently processing. "That's a dark way to think about it but... I suppose you're right. I think you may be right."

"of course I'm right" she smiled shutting her book "That's all, that's what was swimming in my noggin before bedtime."

A soft laugh escaped. He stood close, now towering over her. "Right. Well.. do you mind if I ask another question myself now?"

"... Fine" she sighed

Jack leaned down closer to her "Do you wear clothing like this every night? Or just for me?"

"every night... Why?"

Jack shrugged but had a small smirk on his face and leaned even closer, so close that their bodies were almost touching. "No reason in particular. Was just thinking that I'd like to see you wearing this more often, it's very pleasing to the eye."

she scoffed "Whatever would people think they saw me wondering around the hospital in my nightie let spending time in said nightie alone with a bachelor such as yourself" She used her proper lady tone

Jack chuckled softly and whispered in her ear, "Oh I'm sure we both know nobody would have a problem with the two of us spending time together in here alone."

she glared "You know full well if my father found out you were alone with me he would come down here pack my things and march me home. After beating you with his cane to a bloody plump"

Jack sighed and leaned back slightly, having a grimace on his face. "And don't remind me how much I bloody hate your father. Honestly, he has no good reason to hate me."

"... Doesn't he? You are often alone and make lewd remarks towards his only unmarried daughter."

Jack let out a small 'pfft,' and chuckled "I think 'often' is.. a stretch. Besides, how is flirting with his daughter a reasonable reason for him to hate me?"

"If you had a daughter and found out some boy was flirting with her you wouldn't be angry?"

Jack sighed and rubbed his face again, contemplating an answer. A few moments of silence later, he responded. "I understand it'd be... worrying. But why anger? You're not a child anymore, you're an adult, You can defend yourself and know what's appropriate and not appropriate. So why shouldn't you flirt with the opposite gender if you please? Namely me."

"because that's not how society works jack."

Jack scoffed and rolled his eyes. "Bloody society. So because society says it's not okay for two people to flirt, it's not okay for a man to give a compliment to a woman. Makes perfect sense."

"I didn't make these etiquette rules."

Jack sighed, and slowly wrapped his arms around her waist. "I know that. But that doesn't mean it's reasonable to follow these bloody etiquette rules."

she rolled her eyes resting her hands on his, "I am an unmarried young lady and you are a bachelor. Like it or not there are rules we have to follow. We get away with alot more because your a doctor and I'm a nurse we have excuses to be alone together. If we weren't if you wanted time alone with me you'd have to court me like everyone else."

Jack chuckled at first before rolling his eyes. "Court you? That's a damn joke. You know damn well I won't court you just to be able to spend time alone with you. Besides, if I went and courted you, I'd have to meet with your bloody father, and I'm not exactly in any rush to see that old bastard again."

"...he'd let you, you know." She said quietly

Jack raised an eyebrow, surprised by her answer. "Would he now? The ol' prick would truly give me permission to court you?"

"he's told me before. He'd give you permission if you actually went about properly"

Jack fell silent for a moment, contemplating what she'd said. "... And what exactly would going about it "properly" require me to do?"

"To bathe. Get dressed up in your best shirt. Come to the house. Perhaps bring gifts for my family. Sit down to dinner. Then ask my father for permission to court me."

Jack groaned and rubbed nose against her neck as he imagined the scenario she was describing. He groaned again and rested his forehead against her shoulder. "Good god... that sounds like absolutely torture." He stayed rested against her for a long moment, not saying anything. After what felt like forever, he lifted his head up. "... Say I did go through all that. The bathing, the best clothes, the family dinner and all that bullshit... would you actually say yes?"

"... Not my choice. Father will decide if you can have permission then you'd have to ask me and then go about the courting"

Jack groaned again, "How many damn steps are in this courting situation anyway?"

"... Well asking for permission, asking the lady, first stage of courting where your chaperoned, second stage where you’re unchaperoned, balls and formal events, then engagement."

Jack groaned again, "Christ... that sounds... bloody exhausting."

"oh it is."

"And this is all because society says two grown adults can't spend time alone without being bloody chaperoned?"

"Yep." She nodded "I mean... You could try your luck do all the same things and just ask father for my hand. It's more a risk but if he agrees you jump straight to engagement "

Jack lifted his head back up and raised an eyebrow. "And what exactly is the likelihood of him agreeing? Because if I'm going through all this bullshit I'd like to know if it's pointless or not.."

"... Agreeing to court, I'd say 70% leaving room for potential social issues. Asking for my hand... 50%... If you catch him on a good day... And maybe wait till he's a few whiskeys deep"

Jack chuckled softly. He was surprised to hear those odds. "Damn. That's a surprisingly high chance. I'd assumed it'd be in the 10% range."

"as I said. He's told me before if you were to go about it properly her happily allow it"

Jack let out another long sigh. "Alright. I'm... slightly considering this now. Very, very, slightly considering this."

"you do realize either way we'd have to get married?"

Jack went silent, staring at the ground to the side while he processed that. A few moments later he spoke in a quiet voice. "Y-Yeah... I'm very much aware of that…” He went silent again, thinking. It was hard enough for him to actually imagine himself getting married, but… for y/n. A frown formed on his face as he spoke again. "Bloody hell... your father as my father-in-law..."

she chuckled "You'd only have to see him like once a year"

Jack groaned again. "One too many times if you ask me. Honestly, I can't stand the thought of being in the same room as that old bastard." Jack went silent for another moment, staring at the floor. But after that moment, he let out a long sigh and spoke up again. ".. But I suppose having to deal with him once a year would be... bearable.. if it meant being married to you"

"hum... Getting to see under my nightie really worth that much to you? That you'd go though all the chaos of courting, marrying me, and dealing with my father for the rest of your life?"

Jack couldn't help but chuckle a tiny bit. "Trust me, seeing under your nightie is only a part of the reason I'm considering this. Getting to marry you is the major reason." he pressed a gentle kiss to her cheek, "Besides... I would rather marry the woman I love, even if I have to deal with her father being a pain in my ass for the rest of my life"

"or you could just go down the pub and pay a lady a few pounds to see under her dress and just remain a bachelor forever?"

Jack chuckled again and slowly leaned even closer to her. "Ah, but there's only one little problem with that idea. I'm in love with bloody you, not some random pub girl."

she chuckled "Well, you know your options, now can I get to bed or you just going to keep me down in the morgue with you all night?"

Jack let out a sigh and very slowly released his grip on her waist. He took a step back. "I suppose you can go off to bed. I'll see you tomorrow as usual?"

"of course, first thing in the morning. You want me to wake you or just meet you in the ward for rounds?"

Jack shrugged and let out a yawn. "Just meet me in the ward for rounds. I'm planning on staying up a little later, you can go get your beauty sleep."

"alright" she chuckled heading to the door but just before she left she turned back "you’re really thinking about this aren't you?"

Jack stayed silent for a moment, as if he was contemplating the question. He eventually let out a sigh and nodded. "... Yeah, I am. I'm actually... genuinely considering it."

she chuckled and nodded slightly a wicked look on her face for a minute "Well..." She smirked her fingers moving to the small straps of her silk nightie and pulling them down to her waist for a brief few seconds exposing her collar, chest and bare breasts before she quickly moved it back up concealing herself again

Jack went completely silent and still while she lowered the straps, his jaw-dropping as his eyes rushed to memorize every tiny little inch of her skin,

"Some encouragement." She blew him a kiss before she headed out of the morgue "See you in the morning doctor Dawkins"

He let out a breath he didn't realise he was holding, "Bloody hell..." he whispered before quickly composing himself "Y-yeah.. see you in the morning."

Jack continued to remain completely motionless after she'd left. He just stood there for a while, his mind and body practically frozen while his brain desperately tried to process what had just happened. The image of her for those few seconds was now burnt into his memory.

After a few minutes, he seemed to finally have enough self-control to move again. He let out another heavy sigh, running his hand through his hair to try and keep himself from feeling the burning sense of desire. He quickly tried to distract his mind by thinking of the patients, the paperwork, anything that could make him push that goddamn image out of his mind but too late he saw and he was so so happy he saw.

[rainydayandmondays]

Secret Santa is Coming....

Summary: Time for the Secret Santa gift exchange and Andy knows you deserve only the best gift. And who says it can’t be a gift for both of you.

Pairing: Andy Barber X Reader, Jake Jensen

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: 18+ only. Explicit language, explicit sexual content, male masturbation, female masturbation, voyeurism, Daddy kink, slight non-con

Author’s Note: A follow up to the Thanksgiving Potluck. I don’t think Andy is okay with just a one-shot with his sweet girl.

“Mr. Barber.”

Andy looked up to see you standing just inside his doorway. Your hands dropping to be held in front of you, he watched as you momentarily shifted from foot to foot. You were uneasy and that should never be how you feel around him. He dropped the affidavit he had been reading back to his desk, before rolling his shoulders, and sitting back in his chair. Something had you skittish and he wouldn’t have that.

“Yes, sweetheart.”

You bow your head at the nickname, your bashful reaction to it would never get old with him. However, he did try to use it sparingly. Waiting until you two were mostly alone, he would softly say it and watch you smile before catching yourself.

“Can I talk to you about something?” You looked at him, your brow furrowing as you waited for his response. Something was wrong. He could feel his own unease build up the longer he watched you, your fingers now fidgeting in front of you.

“Is that even a question? Of course, you can,” He gestured to the seat in front of him.

You seemed to loosen up at his response, your hands dropping the gripped hold you had them in. Turning to close the door behind you, you gave him a small hopeful smile before taking the offered seat.

He continued to sit back, despite wanting to inch closer to you. You were calmer now and he didn’t want to break you from that peace that you had regained, “What’s going on?”

You took a quick inhale before asking your question, “Are you the one leaving coffee on my desk every morning?"

The coffee. You knew about the coffee. After Thanksgiving, he hadn’t wanted to give up the feeling he felt watching you enjoy him so much. He embraced the flashes of you licking your lips after finishing his potluck offering. They would keep him busy popping up over the long holiday weekend.

Laurie had ordered in catering for their family meal. Things were starting to pick up for her at work as they entered the holiday season. Buying everything and then cooking the turkey dinner wasn’t something she was willing to take on. Instead, they had pulled the plastic containers from the takeaway bag, quickly heating them up before sitting down to the saddest Thanksgiving meal. Thoughts of you were the only thing that pulled him out his funk to start pulling down Christmas decorations from the attic.

He decided that weekend that he would find a way to share that with you again. Your friend may have thrown out that thinly veiled threat, but he would find a way around it. Returning to the office after the holiday, he decided to keep his ritual to his nightly shower. No more parking garage camera feed for your noisy friend to make noise about. He found if he worked late enough, by the time he got home, there would be no one up to ask why he took a tumbler with him to shower.

Filling up his trusty tumbler every night, he would grab it from the refrigerator each morning as he waved goodbye to a wife and son who seemed to be more enthralled with their phones than anything he was doing. Heading to the local coffee shop after his morning swim, he would sit in his car adding his special ingredient to the small light roast brew with double espresso shots and half and half.

Making sure to get in as early as possible, he would leave the cup of coffee on your desk before hustling to his office. He had done so for the last week, a smirk lighting up his face when you brought the cup to the weekly team debrief for the latest cases. But now you knew it was him. He should have known you would figure it out.

Trying his best to not react to your question, he pulled on all his skills to keep the best poker face. He could come up with a reason for it that wouldn’t return you to that ball of nerves that had stood in his doorway.

He cleared his throat before responding, “You caught me. I know the late nights you have been putting in. That can’t be easy to do and then only to go home and help your parents. Figured you might need something to look forward to.”

You hummed at his explanation, looking down before returning your gaze to him, “That’s very kind, Mr. Barber. Sweet even. It’s just…people like to talk. I’ve worked so hard. And I don’t want anyone to think that I got anything because of…because of anything else other than work.”

Your eyes had continued to flit between him and your hands in your lap as you spoke. He could tell that you had thought through your small speech, probably even prepped yourself on your drive in. He also knew that one of the office gossips had gotten to you. He was selfish and he wanted the moments with you but not at the risk of you feeling uncomfortable.

Leaning against the desk, he looked at you straight on, expressing as much empathy as possible, “Understood. No more coffees.”

Your shoulders finally came down from around your ears and you sighed, nodding back in thanks.

“Thank you, Mr. Barber,” you replied before rising to walk towards his office door. He wanted to correct you. Remind you to call him Andy. However, he figured it was best not to push his luck. Watching you push the wrinkles from your skirt as you walked away, he called back to you, “I don’t want you worrying about this or what anyone may say, okay?”

Stopping to look over your shoulder, you reached to grab at your necklace, “I won’t.”

“Promise me?” He smirked as you continued to twiddle with the gold chain.

“I promise,” you answered as he nodded for you to leave.

With the click of his door closing, he looked down at his desk, saving your promise to his memory. He’ll use it later tonight.

Holding the slip of paper in his hands, your name neatly scrawled across it, he smiled to himself. A couple of people in the office decided to put together a Secret Santa exchange. Apparently, the Thanksgiving potluck was such a success when it came to team building, the higher ups agreed to the next holiday activity. Even had HR sign off on it.

Andy had been in court when the bag of names had been passed around. He didn’t give it much thought. Since your stop in his office a week ago, he had kept his distance. It wasn’t something that he wanted in the slightest. But he was willing to respect your genuine worry about office gossip. No more tumblers, no more early coffee runs. The research requests still happened but always through the weekly team huddle.

However, now seeing your name chosen for him, he had to smile to himself. Of course, it would be you that he would get. Of course, him trying to keep his distance would mean you finding a way back to him.

He sat down, leaning his chin in his hands, “Okay, sweet girl. I understand.”

The office had pretty much cleared out with most people starting their holiday vacations. The last few streamers from the small Christmas luncheon had been balled up and chucked in the bin, when Andy made his way out to the bull pin. You were waving off the last of the other paralegals as you collected your stuff to make your own way home.

“Hey sweetheart,” he saw you jump a little before turning to him.

You had worn a red Christmas sweater with a white bow handstitched along the collar. Your normal pencil skirt had been replaced by a pair of black slacks. And although not his favorite, the pants had done wonders for your ass. He had watched as you moved around the office putting up the last-minute decorations, only to take them down.

“Hi Andy.” You replied turning and looking up at him from your office chair. He caught the small smile that wanted to break free at your utterance of his name. That was good, you were comfortable around him again.

Clearing his throat, he brought the gift bag from behind his bag, presenting it to you, “Merry Christmas.”

“So, you were my Secret Santa,” you smirked looking at the packed gift bag he had hastily bought from the Walgreens down the street.

“It’s a three-part gift,” he answered, nodding towards it and urging you to open it.

Taking the stuffed tissue paper from the top you reached in pulling out a pink tumbler. You let out a small giggle, “For my coffee?”

He fully smiled this time, before shrugging his shoulders and pointing to the remaining items in the gift bag. Putting down the tumbler, you turned back to the bag, reaching the bottom of it, you pulled out a wooden paper weight. Carved into the center was the seal for Boston College Law School. Your brow creased as you tried to piece together the meaning of the gift. He watched as you finally looked back to him, your look pleading for an answer.

“That’s the second part. An old college buddy of mine is the registrar. I told him about a paralegal that had aced her LSATs, had helped on numerous high profile ADA cases, but hadn’t had the chance to enroll yet.” He looked on as the puzzle started to come together in your mind. Your brow creased further as tears started to line your eyelashes.

“They have grant funds set aside every year for students that display great potential. He took care of everything. You can enroll whenever you’re ready. There will be a space for you. That’s the third part.” He whispered the last of his explanation. The tears that had been threatening to fall now ran fully down your cheeks.

“Oh my God. Thank you.” You jumped from your chair, throwing your arms around his shoulders.

Initially taken by surprise, he hesitated momentarily before letting his body relax into your hold. His hands landing on your back as you sniffled into his dress shirt and whispered quiet thank you’s in his ear.  He threw up his own thanks at the office being empty. Something tells him that you may have restrained yourself more with an audience.

Starting to feel you pull away, he resisted the urge to cling to you. It had been a while since Andy had a genuine hug. He had been mostly regulated to side hugs with Laurie. Every once in a while, it would include a kiss to the cheek. And Jacob, well he was fully rooted in his teen years and any idolization that he might have had for his dad had been long gone. He would only get quick nods of recognition from over the top of the phone from his son. But now with you, he could feel the heat of your body, the small catches in your breath as you tried to regulate your outburst. This was something he couldn’t give up.

“I’m so sorry. That’s not very professional of me. It’s just…this means so much to me.”

Your tearful smile at him tempted him to bring you back into his embrace. To just hold you as all the happy tears flowed out of you.

You giggled again, shaking your head, “I have to tell my parents. I have to…”

He nodded at you, seeing all the possibilities run through your mind. He had opened doors for you. Had given you a better future. Had put that delighted smile on your face. He had done that. You quickly began to pack up your remaining things, yesterday’s brief stuffed in with your laptop. Turning to him again, you smiled again grabbing onto his forearm and squeezing.

“Merry Christmas sweetheart.”

“Merry Christmas Andy.”

“Can you believe it, Jake? I can enroll whenever I’m ready. There’s a space just waiting for me.” You talked animatedly to your best friend as you placed the carved paperweight on your bookcase. It would sit perfect with your old undergrad books and picture of Jake and you from your graduation.

“That’s amazing, Ace! So, he just called a friend and got this all sorted out?” Jake asked facetiming you from his room.

He had suspicions about your kind of boss since before meeting him Thanksgiving. You had mentioned how many late nights you had been spending at the office recently and how walking out at night gave you the heebie-jeebies. The protector within him woke up immediately at that, ready to offer to pick you up if he needed to. You would never ask him to do that yourself. That’s when you brought up Andy Barber and how he started walking you out.

It hadn’t taken Jake long to dig up information on the ADA. He had the white picket fence life, although there wasn’t too much about his past listed. That was the first red flag. Hacking into the courthouse’s camera feed had been relatively easy. These older government buildings never bothered upping their security.

Andy Barber always parked in one of the garage’s blind spots. That would be the second red flag. After you left, Andy wouldn’t be seen exiting until half an hour later. What could he possibly be doing in a parked car for thirty minutes? That was the final red flag.

“His friend is the registrar at the school. He was able to work it out. What?” Sitting down on your bed, you leaned back looking at Jake on your phone. He was making his slightly worried puppy dog face.

“It’s just that’s a lot to get coordinated so fast.”

“Why can’t you just be happy for me, Jake?” You asked only to see Jake’s face immediately deflate. The worried puppy dog look morphing to kicked puppy. His eyes widening behind his glasses.

“Of course, I’m happy for you Ace. It’s just that you’re too trusting sometimes.”

“I’m not a child,” you grumbled back, and Jake wanted to jump through the phone and ease your anger.

“You’re not. You’re a person with a good heart that wants to believe the best in people,” he saw the crease in your brow ease as he spoke, “And that’s why I gotta look out for you.”

Rolling your eyes, you tried to hide your small smile at Jake’s statement. From the first moment he had run into on his skateboard, knocking both of you over in the quad in college, he had looked out for you.

“When do you come back?”

“Why? Do you already miss me?” You watched Jake wiggle his eyebrows suggestively, causing a round of giggles to erupt from you. He pretended to be hurt by your outburst before continuing, “Probably not until the new year.”

You hummed, sitting back up, Jake and you sat in silence as he watched the disappointment take over your expression. He searched for a way to get you to smile again when he heard the knock at the door. Quickly looking back at the door, he breathed a sigh of relief seeing he had locked it.

“I gotta go, Ace.” He watched you nod a short okay, before finally getting up from your bed.

“I miss you.” “I miss you too, Jake.”

Andy sat down at the desk in his home office. Neck stretched back along the back of the chair, as he thought back on the last couple of hours since getting home. Walking in, he noticed all the lights were off, not even the Christmas tree in the den was lit. Disengaging the alarm, he made his way into the kitchen to see a sticky note stuck to the fridge. Laurie had to go back into the office to finalize the preparations for the end of the year gala, while Jacob spent the night at a friend’s. So much for family time.

Putting an order into the local Italian place, he went upstairs to change out of his work clothes. He contemplated jumping in the shower, until he heard the doorbell ring with his takeout. Turning on the tree in the den, he ate his pasta dish with only the twinkling Christmas lights on. What had his life become? What had his family become?

Dropping the to-go containers in the trash, he wandered back to his office. He thought about powering up his laptop and finishing the closing remarks for one of his cases, when he found the holiday favors that you had passed around the office this morning. Your red sweater on, you greeted everyone with such joy for the upcoming holiday. He couldn’t help but smile up at you, as you left the favor on his desk.

You were a sweetheart. His sweetheart. His sweet girl. He rubbed along his bottom lip as he remembered your reaction to his gift. The hug had surprised him. But fuck if he hadn’t loved every minute of it. He didn’t even mind the soft sniffling you made as your tears stained his tie. He had made those tears.

Opening his iPad, he logged into the recently downloaded program. Would you have already told everyone about what he had done for you? Would you have passed around the carved seal of your new school for everyone to admire? Would you have put it in a place of pride? He wasn’t sure, but it couldn’t hurt to check.

Finishing entering the credentials, he watched as his screen came to life and he saw your bedroom space. It was cheerful like you, with multiple pillows adorning your bed and bursts of color in the pictures you hung on your walls. He devoured the scene, greedily taking in everything he could see, when he heard the click of the bedroom door. The small camera was powerful and could zoom 10x but was stationary in the middle of the school seal.

He waited, hearing you hum a Christmas song along the with opening and closing of drawers off camera and the tossing of a bath towel on the bed. Finally making your way into view, he saw your silk two-piece set. The navy-blue pajama top with white piping along seams hugged your tits. Your free tits, there’s no way you were still wearing a bra with the way your nipples poked through. And the shorts that accompanied it, covered the curve of your ass, but he watched as they inched up as you started to turn down the bed.

He shifted in his seat as he set the iPad to lean against the monitor stand on his desk. Widening his legs and easing back into his chair, he adjusted himself. He hadn’t had a chance for his nightly ritual. But seeing you now, he was happy to see he would have new things to add to his memory. You always knew how to take care of him. His sweet girl.

After setting most of the pillows aside, you climbed into bed, reaching over for your earbuds and phone. He couldn’t tell what you were listening to but judging by the content smile on your face, it must be good. He watched as you closed your eyes, listening to whatever was piping through your earbuds. Reaching down, he rubbed himself through his pajama bottoms. Nothing too aggressive, just softest of touches. The kind he always imagined you would give him. Always delicate and soft at the start.

He sighed to himself as he watched you, “My sweet girl.”

Lost in the moment, he didn’t catch you shifting at first. However, looking back at the screen, he saw your hand move to your top. You let out a small sigh as your fingers started to flick at your nipple, rolling it between your fingers. He frantically sat up, engaging the zoom function to watch up close. Your nipples were amazing, and he knew given the chance he would lap at them, giving them little bites to see you squirm. Your eyes were closed, breathing harsher, as you played with your tits.

“Play with her tits, sweet girl. Show me how sensitive they are,” He whispered as he took full hold of himself. After hitting his fist on the underside of the desk, he pushed back from it to make room for his hand as he continued to slide up and down his shaft.  

He could hear the little sighs you were making as they started to get louder. He knew you would be vocal. You would tell him everything that made you feel good. Both your hands covered your tits while the buttons of your shirt lay open from where you had torn it open to get your hands in.

“Jesus, you’re going to be the death of me.” He squeezed around the tip before breaking contact with the screen to spit down onto himself. At feel of his warm saliva, that winking eye dribbled out onto self.

Hearing shifting, he looked back to find you grabbing one of the pillows you hadn’t bothered to put aside. Now, what were you doing now? He watched as you grabbed the forgotten towel still at the foot of your bed. Placing the pillow in the middle of the bed, you draped the towel over it before swinging a leg over and straddling the setup.

“Fuck me. Take what you need, sweet girl.” He grunted as you started to rock back and forth on the pillow.

Your hips started a natural rhythm, one hand still pawing at your tit while the other held you steady on your perch. As he looked on, the more he dribbled out on his hand, and he finally reached down pushing his pants and underwear off. His ass was momentarily cold on the leather of the seat, but he couldn’t be bothered to care as you kept humping your pillow.

“Daddy.”

Andy nearly swallowed his tongue when he heard your whisper. Your bottom lip now caught between your teeth as you whined.

“Daddy is here. Fuck, I’m right here.” He fisted himself, finally dropping to grab onto his balls and rolling them in his palm.

“Daddy, please.” You mewled out your whimper and he had to grab tight at his base to avoid blowing his load right then and there. You were close, but fuck him, if he missed it by losing it first.

“What do you need, sweet girl? What do you need from daddy?”

“Daddy, I can’t.”

How could you answer him? You had to know. His sweet girl was so smart, she could figure anything out. You had to know he was here. That he could see you. That he was watching you. You were doing this for him.

“Yes, you can. Daddy says you can. I’ll even count down. Five.”

You stuttered slightly before picking up your pace again.

“Four.”

He tightened his grip, corkscrewing his hand on each trip up.

“Three.”

Your breathing was getting harsher as you brought down your other hand, using both to steady you as your hips rolled.

“Two.”

He was almost there. His balls had already started to pull up as he planted his feet to thrust into his fist.

“One. Come on, my sweet girl. Come for daddy.”

He nearly lost it, as you threw your head back, mouth gaping in a silent cry, and the rest of your body spasming. Fucking his hand, he watched as a gush of liquid flew out of you, wetting the towel beneath.

“Oh fuck. Such a good girl. Such a good, fucking sweet girl.”

Standing up, he aimed for the screen as he lost it on the image of his sweet girl squirting for him. He twitched and continued to rub out every ounce he had for her. For once, he didn’t think about it going to waste. It hadn’t, not with what you had given him tonight.

Bracing against the edge of the desk, he flopped back into his chair, as you rolled off your pillow completely drained.

“Thank you, daddy.” You gave one final whisper before peeling off your pajama shorts and grabbing the covers to go to sleep.

“You’re more than welcome, sweet girl. Rest now.”

Andy watched you snuggle into bed, returning to the woman he knew from the office. No longer the horned up, little one that just needed her daddy to take care of her. Taking a tissue from the console behind him, he wiped himself down before wiping the screen and desk. Pulling his boxers and pajama pants back up, he started to log out of the camera’s app, when a dialog box popped up, asking to save or delete recording.

He hesitated only for a moment, before clicking save.

Maybe these work holiday functions weren’t the worst thing in the world.

@sarahdonald87

@buckybarnesisdaddy

@theinheriteddutchess

@welp-heregoessomething

[echo-goes-mmm]

Silas and Wren 2.0 #3

Masterpost

Previous

Next

Warnings: none

“I need to buy you some clothes.” 

Wren jumped, and turned to see Master standing in the kitchen doorway. 

“Sorry,” he said. “I didn’t mean to startle you.”

“You don’t need to worry about me, Master,” he said, his heart still pounding. Could Master hear his heartbeat?

“You can just call me Silas if you want. It’s not a big deal.”

“Yes, Master Silas.”

Silas smiled at him, his fangs glinting in the light. Wren turned back to the sink. He didn’t trust himself not to stare. 

“Have you eaten recently?” asked Silas.

“Yes, Master. I just finished dinner, I mean, well-” Wren wasn't sure what it counted as. It was his second meal since getting up, but if he was expected to sleep during the day-

“I don’t think it matters what you call it, as long as you eat.”

“Right,” he agreed.

“Speaking of,” hinted Silas, and Wren let out a long breath.

He turned, trying to keep his face as pleasant as possible. 

“May I?” Silas gestured to his neck, and Wren nodded.

Silas was gentle but firm as he tilted Wren’s face to the side, and his cool breath brushed over Wren’s skin.

He kissed over Wren’s pulse, and Wren felt the strange numbness spread over his throat.

Silas bit him, and the coolness slowly crept like into his veins, spreading out like a spiderweb. It didn’t hurt, but his brain told him it should, and his instincts told him to run.

But it was all over in a few minutes. Silas mouthed away stray drops of his blood, and pulled away.

Wren pressed his hand to his neck, but his palm came away dry. No blood.

“It didn’t hurt, right?”

Silas looked tense, watching him, and Wren shook his head. 

“Good,” said Silas, relaxing. “Any dizziness?”

“No, Master.”

“Great. Tell me if you feel odd, alright?”

“Okay.”

___________________

Master Silas had decided to take him clothes shopping, and it was going well. At least, until Silas suddenly stiffened and rushed them home.

“Put your new clothes away,” ordered Silas. “And stay upstairs.”

Wren grabbed the bags and quickly made his way up the staircase. He had just finished putting them away when he heard the doorbell chime.

The walls must be pretty thin, or perhaps the attic itself wasn’t very insulated, because he could hear everything.

___________________

The Vespertilio nest was big, with at least a dozen sired and two born. Impressive numbers, and they had eyes all over the city.

Silas really should have known better than to leave his territory two nights in a row.

He smelled them before he saw them, and the Vespertilio vampires followed his trail. Clearly they wanted him to know they were there. It would have been all too easy to stalk him downwind instead, but they chose to let the wind carry their scent towards him.

Oh god, he was really in trouble.

He sent Wren upstairs, and hoped they were satisfied with running him home.

It wasn’t but a few minutes later when the doorbell rang.

Silas opened the door, and two sired stood on his doorstep.

They pushed past him without a hello.

“You went out past your allotment last night,” said the one with brown hair.

“I wasn’t hunting, I swear,” he pleaded, closing the door behind them.

“We don’t know that,” said the blonde, picking at her fingernails casually.

“And you did it again tonight,” added the first vampire, picking up a book from his shelf and examining the cover.

“It was for a good reason,” he said weakly, following the movement with his eyes. “I just needed some clothes.”

“For your human, you mean.” The brunette put the book down.

Silas swallowed hard. “Keeping one isn’t against the rules.”

“No,” said the blonde. “It’s just pathetic.”

Silas sagged. “I know,” he said. “But this way I won’t have to hunt? Surely that’s fine?”

The sired exchanged looks, as if sharing a joke. “Our Lord has already decided to allow it,” the blonde said, and Silas stared at her.

“You are now allowed to roam, but only to take care of your slave. Otherwise, stay put as per the previous agreement.”

His face flushed with humiliation. “You mean he doesn’t care? You only followed me to scare me?”

The two smiled, twin pairs of fangs flashing. “Pretty much,” the brunette admitted.

“Have fun with your pet,” teased the other, and they turned to go.

They didn’t bother saying goodbye, and the slight was nothing compared to the sting of embarrassment. Of course.

Of course he was allowed to keep Wren, if only because it was amusing, and of course they would rub his inadequacy in his face. What else could he expect?

___________________

Wren felt bad for his Master. Clearly he wasn’t wanted, and the other vampires made sure he knew it.

“They’re gone,” called Silas. “You can come out now.”

Wren opened the door, and Master Silas looked shaken. “Are you alright?” he asked.

“Yeah. It’s just...” Silas ran his hand through his dark hair. “Well, I won’t trouble you with it.”

He turned to go down the stairs, and Wren followed him.

“I don’t mind,” said Wren. “I’m here to serve, and if it helps-”

“I’m fine,” said Silas, louder as they reached the landing. “I just need a distraction.”

Wren’s heart sank. “Like what?” he asked, but he already knew the answer as they walked down the hall.

But Silas passed by his bedroom instead of pulling Wren in, and went down towards the first floor.

Wren followed his Master into the living room, and Silas dug through a table drawer.

“Do you know how to play kings in the corner?” he asked, pulling out a deck of cards.

What kind of Master wanted to play cards with a bed slave?

“No,” he admitted. “Sorry, Master.”

Silas smiled, and sat on the couch. “That’s alright. I don’t mind teaching. That is, if you don’t mind playing?”

Wren blinked in confusion.

“I’m here to serve,” he repeated, and a flash of something passed over Silas’s face, but was gone before Wren could decipher it.

“Right.” He took the cards out of their package, and it was clearly a brand new deck. “Well, I’ll just go ahead and shuffle.”

They played a few rounds, but soon enough Wren was too tired to keep going.

Silas looked disappointed, but sent him to his room without comment.

Wren trudged up the stairs, nearly falling into bed. His clock read one am.

He’d have to do better tomorrow night, and hoped a beating wasn’t waiting for him if he failed.

taglist: @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi @secretwhumplair @freefallingup13 @mylovelyme @whumpzone @paintedpigeon1 @haro-whumps @whumpthisway @fanastyfinder @extemporary-whump @susiequaz12 @keepingwhumpwiththekardashians @the-cyrulik @morning-star-whump @writereleaserepeat @annablogsposts @tobiaslut @starfields08000

[bucketsofmonsters]

Where the Light Enters - Part 10

cw: unreliable narrator, hurt/comfort, slow burn, eventual sex, enemies to lovers, past childhood sexual assault, past sex trafficking, referenced noncon, past nonconsensual body modification, happy ending, the tags look scary but this is mainly a story about recovery

Cole/Female Inquisitor

word count: 4k

ao3 link

Masterlist

Rosemary woke, as she often did, pinned against Bull’s chest, his arms wrapped around her, holding her to him. 

She also woke to the sight of Cole standing in front of her, staring down at her and Bull sleeping. 

Before she could communicate anything to him, like the fact that he shouldn’t be here or that he needed to leave, he loudly announced, “I’ve been having nightmares.”

Bull woke with a start, muttering out a disoriented, “Cole, I swear-” after nearly hitting him in the head with the broadsword sitting by his bed. 

Cole just stared at it on the floor for a second, seeming undisturbed by the weapon being launched at him, before turning back to them and stating again, “I had a nightmare.”

“I heard,” Rosemary said, squirming out from under Bull’s arm and rubbing the sleep from her eyes. “Would you like to talk about it?”

“No,” he said. “I don’t think they’re really nightmares because I don’t sleep but I see them and they make me feel like nightmares make both of you feel.”

She didn’t know why, but the mention of Bull having nightmares upset her, like he shouldn’t be allowed to when he resided in so many of hers. 

“So you’re hallucinating?” she asked, still not quite understanding what was happening. 

“Listen, Cole,” Bull said, and she could already tell he was about to shut him down and send him away. She was also already furious about it, but there was nothing she could do. “There are better people you could talk to about this. Go ask Varric or Solas. You can’t just follow Rosemary everywhere.”

Cole didn’t look upset like she wanted him to. He just nodded, face blank, and disappeared. 

It killed her not to go to him, to be stuck with Bull for the rest of the night. 

She didn’t see him for the rest of the morning either, everyone at Skyhold seemingly needing something from her. 

As she delegated her thirtieth problem of the day, fixing none of them, she saw Solas approaching and decided if he brought her a problem, she would kill him. 

Instead of a hissed ‘what do you want,’ she managed a civilized, “Can I help you with something?”

He was not quite as courteous in return, responding with a stilted, “I doubt it, but for some reason Cole seems to trust you so I thought you should know that Cole has come to me and asked me to bind him.”

Her eyes narrowed, trying to suss out any ill intent. “He what?”

“I think he is frightened. I refused and he became incredibly distressed. He kept attempting to make me promise to kill him if he ever began to change. You may want to speak with him.”

“Yes, I will. Thank you for telling me.” She was quietly grateful that Solas hadn’t just bound him and run off with the spirit. With the way the elf seemed endlessly fascinated by him, it was a minor miracle. 

She rushed off the attic, their silently agreed upon meeting place. She’d never gone there and not found him before, suspecting he appeared each time just as she began to climb the stairs. 

“He wasn’t supposed to tell you,” Cole said as she rushed into the attic. “He worries about me too much.”

“I don’t think he does. First I will say, no one will be killing you. I will make sure of that.”

That seemed to aggravate him more than anything. “You have to! I can’t let it happen to me, I will never become a demon.”

“Come on, we can fix this before it ever gets to that. What’s happening? What did you have nightmares about?”

He shrugged. “We fight things that were spirits every day. That could be me, fighting, faltering, failing. Friend against friend, a familiar knife in their neck. They could turn me against me. I can’t let that happen.”

“And your fix is to give yourself over to Solas?”

“He was the only one I knew who might help. He can always help, surely he can. If not him then who? Everyone asks, he never answers. Long asleep, waiting, waiting, waiting.”

She normally at least had a vague grasp on what Cole was saying but now she was drawing a complete blank. “What are you talking about?” she asked, hoping she didn’t get more vague ramblings in response but knowing she probably would. 

“He can help me. I don’t know if he will. I don’t know if he remembers how.”

“Who? Solas?”

Cole nodded, adamant in something she was not privy to. “He said he will not bind me, but he said he will try.”

“Try? Try what?”

“He will tell you,” Cole said, and then disappeared. 

The second he did, she turned on her heels and she ran, getting to Solas’s room as quickly as she could. Cole was waiting there for her alongside the elf. 

He did little to hide his distaste for her as she entered. “Hello, Inquisitor. Glad you could join us.”

She couldn’t snap at him that she’d gotten here literally as fast as she could, so instead she asked, “What's going on? Cole said you might be able to do something for him, but I will say, I really don’t think binding him is a good choice.”

“I won’t be binding him. I heard years ago of ancient elven ruins that had a ritual to ensure benevolent spirits remained friendly. I put in a request to visit there almost a year ago,” he said, glaring at Rosemary. “If I had been allowed, maybe I would be more helpful.”

She wasn’t sure what he wanted from her? Grovelling, maybe; for her to apologize profusely that during this war their best use of resources wasn’t poking around every set of elven ruins Solas had ever heard of. “I apologize, it all gets very overwhelming sometimes, it must have slipped my mind. We can go now, of course.”

Solas’s head ticked to the side a little at the word ‘we,’ like some part of him had been hoping he’d be allowed to scoop Cole up and take him himself. 

And then Varric came sauntering into the room. “Where are we going? Bull said I should stop by.”

Her whole body tightened at that, already planning excuses for why she had to go on this outing. 

She walked out past him towards the exit. “We’re going to elven ruins, Solas will fill you in. I’ll be right back, don’t go anywhere without me!”

She sprinted through the castle once she got out the door, half convinced Solas would take off with Cole the second she was out of sight. 

She ran straight into Bull’s chest as she turned a corner, almost falling back before he managed to catch her, holding her to him. 

“You should slow down, you’re gonna hurt yourself,” he said with a chuckle. 

“I was looking for you,” she said, heaving in breath after her run. 

“I’m glad, I was worried you’d be off with that spirit already.”

She fought to keep her face neutral. “About that. I really think I should go.”

“Why?” he asked. “Let the Solas and Varric handle it. They’ll be fine.”

“It’s my job to help him, it’s not personal.”

“Do you remember what you said to me in the tent? About giving Dorian false hope? I think you’re leading him on, it’s not fair to the guy.”

She brushed him aside, trying her best to make it seem like it wasn’t a big deal, like he was reading too much into it. “Listen, he needs me. I’m not going to abandon him. He’s scared, Bull. He needs all the help he can get.”

He sighed. “You’re a good leader, you know that?”

“I try my best,” she said shyly, willing the blush up to her cheeks with embarrassing memories and, irritatingly enough, thoughts of Cole. 

He planted a kiss square on her lips and gestured for her to head out, giving her a solid smack on the ass as she walked out the door. 

She wiped her sleeve across her mouth as soon as she was out of eyeshot, feeling incredibly childish as she did. 

It just didn’t feel right. 

They left as soon as she returned, with no desire to linger any longer. The faster she could get out of there, the better. 

Solas seemed in just as much of a hurry, and she couldn’t help but wonder if he’d tried to leave while she was gone. 

It turned out the elven ruins were not far from Skyhold, and Rosemary honestly didn’t understand why Solas felt the need to put in a formal request to visit them at all. Surely he could take a day trip out without someone having to sign off on it. 

Solas seemed entranced by everything as they entered the crumbling ruins, blathering about elven gods and tradition and dozens of other things that she tuned out as she looked around at the building. It seemed held together by vines more than anything. She almost missed it when he started speaking about important things with no change of tone at all, warned only by a nudge from Varric. 

“It’s fascinating,” he said, staring down at something on the floor. “The spell circle must be protected somehow. I thought I’d have to do a crude recreation but it should still be usable.”

She looked down at the crumbling floor and saw he was right. The circle carved into the stone was in impeccable shape, a shiny, well maintained spot in an otherwise almost completely decrepit building. 

Solas was staring down at the circle, heading tilting as he tried to read the runes around the edge. 

She could tell it wasn’t good news. 

He stiffed, his head jerking up before he’d even finished reading. “I apologize, this was not what I thought it was. It is unusable.”

“What does it say?” she prompted. “Maybe we can make another one if this one is broken.”

“It is not broken, it simply would not be helpful to Cole. I will look elsewhere to find a solution for him.”

Varric seemed to be mistrustful alongside her. “Well, don’t keep us in suspense, what does it do?”

“It doesn’t matter, it won't work for Cole,” he insisted, sounding even more suspicious than he’d been before. 

She didn’t even get the chance to interrogate him before Cole was speaking. 

“There are so few. We cannot lose another, not when the rifts are tearing them apart, spirit to demon, over and over again,” Cole said, presumably plucked from Solas’s head. 

“Lose another, what does that mean?” she asked, turning to Cole and completely ignoring Solas now as he sputtered in protest beside her. “What would it turn you into?”

“He’s not sure,” Cole said, the focus evident on his face. “Something more real, more solid. Not a spirit of compassion anymore. Something new.”

Varric chuckled. “Do you mean this thing will turn him human?”

Human seemed like a bit of a jump, to be honest. Either way, it was something. 

“Would it?” she asked, turning back towards Solas.

“I don’t know. It’s hard to tell. All I know is it landlocks spirits, makes it harder for them to travel, between worlds and within ours. It would leave them stuck in physical bodies. It is cruel.”

“Not really,” she insisted. “We’re all locked into our bodies and we’re fine.”

“It was used on unwilling spirits,” Solas insisted. “Shoved in, turned mortal and stripped of what they were.”

“Cole wouldn’t be unwilling, though,” she said, feeling out the thought. “As long as he wants to go in, what would the problem be? Would it hurt him?”

Solas scoffed. “It would change him.”

“That isn’t what I asked,” she spat back, harsher than she meant it to be. 

“We shouldn’t even be discussing this. It is unacceptable,” Solas declared. “Compassion spirits are incredibly rare, we cannot just throw one out. We don’t need to do this anyways, I can simply bind him properly and safely to someone he trusts and then none of this has to occur.”

The man obsessed with spirits wanted Cole to stay a spirit, she was shocked. 

She couldn’t help but wonder why Solas was only mentioning this trust based binding now instead of when Cole was worrying about the dangers ahead. She also couldn’t help but wonder which trusted person Solas imagined Cole picking, envisioned the shock and upset that might come if he picked Rosemary, or honestly anyone other than the irritating elf. 

“No,” Varric cut in. “He needs to change. He has to become more human, that’s what he’d been striving towards all this time. He’s not just a spirit anymore. I don't think he should go back to being one.”

It felt reductive, to act like all the progress Cole had made was him become more human instead of just coming into his own

Varric spoke about becoming human like it was the only thing that mattered. It almost seemed like he didn’t fully understand what was going on, like he thought the ritual might make Cole a real boy instead of some new hybrid creature, something completely unknown. She wanted to announce to Solas that as rare as his compassion spirits were, whatever Cole would become was rarer, but somehow she doubted he would care. 

But it didn’t really matter. 

“I think,” she said, cutting off the inane argument going on between the two of them, “That neither of your opinions matter. Cole, what do you want to do?”

He’d been wistfully looking down at the old, engraved ritual circle on the floor, but as soon as she’d begun talking, his head jerked up to look at her. 

“I don’t know,” he said, his voice low and vulnerable. “I have to do something.”

“Well, you have to figure it out. No one else can know for you. Not for this, not now.”

And then he reached into his jacket, pulling out a familiar, small dagger. 

“What do you think?” he asked, turning it over in his hand, eyes still locked onto hers. 

“I think it’s up to you. It can’t be up to anyone else. And whatever you pick will be you, not because of any ritual, but because you chose it.”

He stared at her, almost as if he was memorizing the features of her face. 

And then he stepped into the ancient circle and everything went white. 

The flash of light blinded her for several seconds, the after image of the lights blocking most of her vision. 

She stumbled forwards before remembering the explosion of light that had occurred when Cole had entered the circle and stepped carefully back to where she had been. 

As the lingering effects of the bright light faded, she saw Cole kneeling in the center of the circle, staring down at his hands. 

“I don’t feel any different,” he said. “Or maybe I do. It’s hard to tell. I just feel like me, and I was me before.”

“I told you you’d be fine,” Rosemary said with a smile, not sure if she had but hoping something like reassurance had come from her. She wasn’t any good at this, comforting people, helping them. Not when they knew her like he did. “Now come on, let’s get you back.”

He stood on shaky legs, like a newborn deer taking its first steps, and smiled at her. “I’m in the gray now too, not stuck helping and helping and helping without time to be me. We can be there together.”

She could feel Solas glaring daggers at her and wondered what he would have done had Cole given any warning for what he’d been about to do. 

Varric chuckled. “Only been human for a minute and he’d already given up helping. I daresay he’s got the hang of it.”

“I’m not human,” Cole said, staring right through Varric. “And I’m not giving up helping. She was bright like the sun, smiles and tricks, both real to you. It should hurt when she leaves but it makes it easier, can’t sour an image. Love from afar can be romantic without being real.”

Varric’s jaw tightened a little, almost imperceptibly. “Well, at least we know he can still read minds.”

“It’s harder,” Cole said, with a little wrinkle forming between his brows. “They don’t come for me anymore, I have to coax them out. What if I forget how?”

“Then we’ll figure it out,” she reassured him. 

Their walk back to Skyhold was slow, Cole wandering off their path more, investigating trees and creeks and rocks. 

He huffed as she pulled him back on track for the third time. “You normally don’t mind, I slip away and come back before you look.”

“What, and you can’t do that anymore?”

He shook his head. “The ground ties me down, feet not flighty but firm. The air can’t blow through me like it wants to.”

That was inconvenient, she liked the way he disappeared and reappeared, it was awfully convenient when she wanted him to grab something for her or when she wanted to have someone killed. 

Eventually, they did manage to make it back to Skyhold. 

People’s eyes didn’t glance past Cole like they had, sticking a little more instead of just noticing the others. 

He shifted nervously under their gaze, unused to being seen. Now, she supposed, at least he understood why people sometimes got flighty under his stare. 

“I didn’t think mine counted like theirs did,” he said in an attempt at a whisper that was still far too loud. 

Varric waved them off, already dragging a clearly upset Solas away. “Go on, have fun, give him a crash course in being human.”

She wanted to roll her eyes but contented herself with grabbing his hand and running off to get him food. It seemed as good of a first step as any and honestly, she wasn’t sure if he’d ever eaten. She’d certainly never seen him do it. Either way, it was for the best for him to try now. She’d rather not he find out he needed to because of sharp hunger pains from the lack of any sustenance inside of him. 

He followed her, tailing just behind her until they found their way to the kitchens, accidentally stepping on her heels every few steps. 

She knew he was familiar with the place because she always heard the serving girls talk about mysteriously delivered kittens or flowers left behind for them. He did seem newly uncomfortable in the space, although she supposed it was no more uncomfortable than he’d been in the courtyard. 

She lifted a piece of bread and none of the cooks commented on it, inevitably recognizing her as the Inquisitor and figuring it wasn’t worth the hassle. 

“Here,” she said, presenting it to him. “Eat it.”

He scrunched up his nose. “No. I don’t want to.”

“You’re more physical now, you really should eat.”

“I’m not human.”

“I know. I didn’t say you are. But you’re something new and we don’t know if that something new needs food. I’d rather have you eat and be wrong than the other way around.”

He reluctantly took the piece of bread, ripping a tiny piece off sticking it in his mouth. 

He chewed for minutes, far longer than he needed to, seemingly trying to either work out what the next step was or to force himself to swallow it. 

Eventually, he forced it down and then set the bread back on the table. 

She picked it up again, thrusting it at him. “You need more than that.”

He shook his head. “I don’t like it. It makes me feel heavy.”

She sighed and reluctantly gave in. “Fine, but the second you feel hungry you have to tell me.”

He nodded, already starting to walk away from the kitchens and leaving her to trail behind him this time, clearly eager to get away from the topic entirely. 

“Do you think I’ll need to sleep?” he asked as he walked. He was lifting his feet higher than normal and she wondered if perhaps he’s just been phasing them through debris on the floor before. Or perhaps he’d lost the instincts telling him what parts of the ground wanted his feet to step there, allowing him to move softly over friendly ground. 

Either way, she found his stomping deeply endearing. It was better than the stumbling he’d been doing before. 

They made it all the way up to the attic, his heavy steps on the stairs echoing through the tavern. 

He turned to her as they reached the top of the stairs and a look of distress passed over his face, saying slowly and apprehensively, “My stomach feels empty.”

[honeymvnt]

Deadly Nightshade [18+]

Vincent Collateral !femxreader¡

Words count: 3.5k

Warnings: intense smut, edging and more

A/N: Being married to Vincent isn’t always easy, especially because of his job and sometimes he needs to put you back in place…

"Are you alright?" You nodded and murmured a quiet yes through the phone, a lie to be precise, as you looked down at your nails before your eyes could notice how quickly the lights of the city spread down the roads, againts the tall buildings, reflecting on the beach and through the soft clouds.

You parted your lips to say something more but the view was able to take your breath away while yout thoughts kept bouncing between your mind and your heart. You even thought about saying the truth once forever but something was stopping you; fear or embarassment you couldn't tell, maybe both or maybe neither. It was was contradictory even for you and right when you decided to say something a noise behind his phone made you think that it was already time to let him go again, and in fact it was.

"I really have to go hun, sleep tight okay?" Vincent said before you mumbled a simple, dry yes and closed the call.

God how much you hated this. You simply hated it. Before you married him, before you knew about his real job everything was perfect. He was home with you, taking care of you, being with you most of the times as a good husband would do and you were happy; you finally could use this word and mean it. You were happy he was in your life, by your side, supporting you in every choice you made yet things got worse after a while.

You'd wake up in the middle of the night, looking for him next to you but he wasn't there. You'd look around the vast attic you two were living in but he wasn't anywhere to be found. You'd call him several times and his phone was always on the bedside table, ringing through the night.

You'd go back to sleep and cry until your mind was too tired to let you suffer and he was next to you in the morning as if nothing happened and you haven't noticed.

Vincent knew that you'd eventually find out about it or at least question him about it but you didn't for a very long time. And so It happened once, twice... for weeks, before you found the guts to face him about it. You waited for him with tears in your eyes, biting on your nails, roaming through the house, trying to change your mind and ignore it, thinking the worst things you could but never what he confessed.

He had told you what he did, what he was doing and what he had to do to afford what you had, to keep his name clean but especially, keep you safe and obviously you didn't plan to leave him, not for something like this, at least not soon.

You had thought he was cheating on you at first but he immediately explained that his sudden disappearances were exclusively because of his job that was still vague to you, confusing and upsetting to you but in a way or in another you were glad it wasn't what you feared and that he was honest to you since the first day you met him.

Vincent was good to you, unlike how he was to everyone else. He was cold, detached from any kind of sympathy or sensitivity but with you, with you he was himself for who he was.

Whenever he was away, since that day, he'd send you the most precious gifts, to cope with his absence and make you feel loved, somehow. He bought you really expensive clothes, diamonds and pratically all the things that a young lady would dream about but that can never reach even in their deepest thoughts. Yet there you were, receiving flowers and sweets from your husband over and over again like a routine.

It was wonderful, you couldn't complain about it, you wouldn't dare to complain but you didn't care about any of it. All you wanted was to spend time with him again, as you used to do and you wanted him.

Vincent, still aware of how much he risked when he told you his real job, had told you not worry about him and he had severely told you not to call him if you were not in danger and of course you wouldn't have dared to play with it, use it for situations where his help was not needed yet, his constant absence and the amount of things he was giving you to cope with the loneliness made you want to test him, see how far he could go.

And so, one day you took that goddamn phone, scrolled until his contact and presseed it without hesitation. The beeping sound was tickling into your mind and the hesitancy started to kick in when you finally put your thoughts together again.

Hands shaking, regret rising up from your toes when you waited for his voice to break the loud silence that was crawling to you and yes, you were scared of course, scared of what he could've done if he knew that nothing happened, that you were safe and while you submerged yourself in your own thoughts you heard his voice through the phone, more worried than he has ever been before. You swallowed hard, walking down the hallway as you listened.

"Darling what's wrong? What happened? Are you okay?"

You swallowed hard again, both regretting it but wanting to keep going.

"No, you need to come here now" and with this you suddenly closed the call and nervously moved your hands through your hair, trying to come up with an excuse, an explanation, a valid one though to let him know that you just wanted to spend time with him. 

You felt selfish and even embarassed to admit that you would've done everything possible to keep him with you, just a little longer, and the more you thought about it the more you realized how insane you actually sounded and he would've said the same exact words to you if he knew, if he knew. You didn't have much time to think nor to put your thoughts together again and manage to fin an excuse; within a few more minutes, while your body leaned agaist the wall of your bedroom and your hands held the phone against your chest, he shot the door open, holding his gun straight in front of him. Arms tight, muscles tensed as he slowly looked around and you appeared from the corner of the hallway. His gun quickly followed you but moved away when he caught your familiar figure.

Your eyes opened in shock but when he approached you, a shaky sigh of relief made your eyes flutter shut and he hugged you against his chest.

"What happened?" He whispered you while his eyes carefully studied the room again, ready to pull out his gun and shoot if needed.

"What happened darling?" He asked again, stroking your back lovingly before he pulled away to look at you in the eyes and catch that slight doubt that was roaming through your mind since weeks now, if not months.

You could tell he was worried and also in a hurry as he kept repeating the same question over and over again as you could manage to lie all suddenly but you didn't want to distort your thoughts and make him believe that everything was fine when it wasn't, not to him, not for this.

"Nothing" you whispered back looking at his lips and then slowly into his eyes as they quickly narrowed to catch your answer properly.

"Nothing?" Vincent asked again, his tone changing slightly, more urgent this time. "Nothing? What do you mean nothing?" He tilted his head when your eyes left his and moved to the floor besides him, ashamed of what you've done.

"Answer me goddamn it" you froze and blinked in disbelief at his sudden change of approach and your mouth dried when his voice raised against you.

"Nothing happened"

"Then why did you call me?"

Tears formed in your eyes when you felt your heart sink deeper, as if his care was only related to your physical safety.

"Because I want you Vincent, fuck" you moved away from him to ignore how upset he was but his eyes were still penetrating into you even if you weren't looking at him.

"And I'm here, what happened?"

You didn't reply but you knew that Vincent hated your silence, he hated when you didn't communicate clearly and it was getting too frequent now, too repetitive amd irritating for him to bear. His hand grabbed your arm and he quckly spun you around so you had no other choice but look into his eyes with your own filled with tears ready to burst out like never before.

"Answer me"

"No, you are not here. Don't you get it?"

"What do you mean I am not here?" He tilted his head again and tried to reach for you before his lips pressed together, to hold back much more of just that question, but you dramatically moved away again. 

"I am tired of all of this" you shouted back until hefinally grabbed your arm.

"I am tired of you treating me as if I was a doll, a something to protect and surround with this stuff" you continued, taking a step backwards.

"They don't replace you, they don't fucking replace you." You breathed out. "Just show me that you care Vincent, like you used to do. Not by being away like this, all the fucking time."

He didn't reply but his eyes followed your every move.

"Do you even care at all?"

Still no answer as he stood there in front of you. Lips pressed together, jaw clenching and an irresistible sensation of just leaving him there right now as his silence started to get too loud for you.

"You don't even realize what you're saying right now" Vincent said through his teeth as his lips quivered with rage at the way you wre behaving. You knew he was going to say this.

"You don't even realize how much I risked marrying you... how much I risk every day to keep you safe and out of my job" he stared at you dead in the eyes as his words turned into knives, penetrating you with such force that your breath was struggling to come out. You knew he was going to say this too.

"bullshit" you said walking closer to him, your heart pounding like crazy and your finger was pointed against his chest.

"Bullshit?"

"Yes, you don't fucking care Vincent" you knew he did, yet he haven't showed it to you properly in a while and you kept testing him, testing the waters around him to just find the weak point to get him weak again, for you.

"I don't care huh?" He said grabbing the hand your were pointing at him and squeezing it inot his: "I don't care?" His face was now inches away from yours and your breathing fastened in a second when you felt his body against yours.

"You think I don't care?" You looked at him, trying to get rid of his grip before he held your wrist and tightened his hand around it until you almost whined in pain.

"I'll show you how I don't care" he gritted through his teeth again, pressing his lips against yours, forcing the kiss as he held your bodycloser to his and you fought it.

You fought it even though this was what you wanted and he loved when you struggled.

He deepened the kiss and it almost felt like he was taking your soul out of you and he was swallowing it all when you opened your mouth and his tongue fought against yours.

He didn't even look into your eyes before his lips crashed onto yours again and his hand held the back of your head.

His mouth devoured yours before moving down to your jaw and neck while you swallowed all the moans he was capable to drag out of you even when you were this upset to him. Vincent did not stop as you kept trying to get rid of him but he groaned against your skin and pushed your body down the hallway, holding himself on the wall to force you to walk backwards.

"I know you want this" he finally spoke up between a kiss and another as you bit your lips and tried your best to hold yourself back.

"you want me to treat you like I don't care" his hand slide up your throat while his thumb slightly pressed on it, making a chocked moan escape from your mouth.

His body was still pressed against yours when the both of you entered the bedroom and he quickly pushed you down the bed, spreading your legs with a hand, while the other quickly started to undress you.

"you don't even hesitate" he said raising an eyebrow, licking his lips too at the sight of your body on display for him. You looked up at him, fighting the urge to smirk at him for the way he was talking to you, for the way he was turning you on just by looking at you.

As he kept removing every piece of clothing that was covering you, you tried to sit on the bed and touch him but Vincent pushed you back down and held your arms against the mattress. You suddenly felt your body heating up while a cold shiver run down your back until when you felt his knee sliding on the fabric of the sheets and towards your core, pressing slightly against your now, drenched underwear.

He smirked when he saw your body quivering and your fists clenching as he bent down to whisper into your ear, knowing damn well how much you loved it while his knee pressed even harder, making obscene noises escape from your mouth.

"Don't move or you'll regret it" he whispered and his cold hand moved down your chest, between your breasts and down your stomach, going lower and lower as he left kisses against your neck and shoulder. 

God how impossible he was. Impossible to resist when he played with you like this but you really doubted he was playing now. His hand kept traveling lower, towards your underwear as his eyes kept catching every single move you made, every single little tremble and shiver that he was able to make you feel without any effort.

Your breath got stuck in your throat when his fingers started to rub your clit through the fabric and the loud moan you unconsciously let slip from your lips made him stop and tighten his grip on your wrists that were now pinned above your head.

"and you fucking keep it quiet" he said fiercely when his fingers moved your underwear to the side and another smirk spread across his face when they quickly coated with your wetness and smoothly slipped into your core without a warning.

You swallowed a moan as he added another finger and started pumping into you faster and faster. He was edging you, playing with you this torturous game just to make you regret what you had done and said even though you were loving it and so was he.

The more he deepend his fingers the wetter you got and within a few more smooth pumps you felt the knot in your stomach growing bigger, sliding down your pulsating core that was now matching your violent heartbeat and you swore you felt your chest almost breaking by the way your heart was shaking against your lungs, making it impossible for you to keep it quiet.

"please..." you dared to say under your breath but Vincent wasn't planning to let you finish nor to satisfy you as you thought he would.

"don't you dare" you could tell he was hard by now and he was fighting it with his whole life just to keep you on the edge, but with this he was also keeping himself on the edge and it was painful for him to see you so desperate for him and not giving you what you truly wanted since the moment you grabbed that goddamn phone and decided to call him.

"you don't get to come.." he breathed out, curling his fingers into you harder than before "not even if you beg me" his other hand let go of your wrists to hold your throat.

"and after what you've done" he continued, removing his fingers from you when your walls painfully clenched around them "you won't get to come for a while".

Both his hands quickly moved your underwear down your thights and legs, until when he completly slide them off of you. He was panting, eager to fuck you like never before and the ache between your legs grew even more painful when you caught his hands undoing his belt and taking his hard and swollen cock out.

He moaned in relief as he grabbed your hips and moved you to the edge of the bed with one hand around your tight and stroking himself with the other, precum glistening on the red tip as he positioned himself against your entrance, trailing a gasp out of your mouth before you bit down on your lower lip and his hand was beside your face, to hold himself up from the bed.

Without even a warning Vincent pushed his cock all the way in, stretching you out nicely as a loud groan echoed through the room and his hips already moved back and forth, wasting no time to push you to the edge again. 

The sight of him in front of you, fully clothed in his suit, his eyes narrowing and his parted lips were already sending you to the moon and back and as sensitive as you were from the previous denied orgasm you knew it wouldn't have taken you longer before you could feel yourself shaking and panting even more with another one.

"fuck you feel good..."

He pounded into you with no mercy, holding your waist tightly so he could move your body to crash your movements against his.

"so good"

His words were like feathers tickling your mind to let yourself go, to ignore what he had told you and just come desperately but you fought it. This time you didn't want him to stop, you didn't want him to make you sweat and suffer for this but your gasps and muffled noises were turning him on so much that he could've came right there if you kept going.

"you're getting too loud darling" Vincent said bitterly, moving his hand down your stomach again to squeeze you down, "want me to stop it?" a hard thrust made you gasp even louder but you managed to compose yourself and shake your head in response.

"what'd you say?" 

"no... don't stop" you whispered pathetically in response.

"Good 'cause I'm not planning to" the mischievous smile that spread on his gorgeous face made your head spin and your knees shake while his movements became even more frenatic and almost sloppy. 

"hold it back" he moaned when he felt your wet and tight walls clentching around him and your eyes squeezed just like your lungs, in the hope that you could actually manage to hold it back as he demanded but he was as close as you were and frankly you both needed this.

His breathing fastened to meet the rhythm of his pace as his cock throbbed and twitched inside of you while he truly tried his best to hold it back with you but the more he looked at you and those eyes of yours that were begging him without saying a word the more he couldn't resist it.

"fuck... don't cum" and your eyes almost rolled back but his hand quickly reached for your neck, missing your stare on him already and forced you to keep them open. You whimpered in despair as your hand hold onto his wrist and arm for dear life; your nails, digging into his skin and his hand tighthening around your throat was all he needed to let himself go and fuck you even harder, hitting your deepest spots and making tears roll down your burning cheeks.

"please" you cried out squeezing his wrist but he shook his head and clenched his jaw, pushing into you faster, slamming his skin against yours as you finally screamed his name and Vincent coated your walls and quickly pulled away, making his cum drip on your stomach too.

Your walls painfully clenched around air, looking for more friction but all he did was looking at you, enjoying the desperation spreading across your face before he cleaned you up with his fingers and brought them to your lips.

"you wanted me to treat you like I don't care..." he whispered calmly as you licked his fingers with your tongue but you mind was dizzy and your heart was still pounding and following the pace of his thrusts even if he had moved away.

"now, I have to go" you pressed your lips together and watched him in disbelief as he raised his trousers again and fixed his grey hair a little.

"but you will wait for me and..." he turned around to face you again, a playful smirk glowing on his face made you almost want to grab him again and force him to stay with you but you fought yourself and listened to his soothing voice.

"if you behave...maybe I'll give you something more"

and with this he left the house again, leaving you shaking in anticipation and eager for his return.

— for ml @dxddycruise I hope you liked it🎀

[heartfullofleeches]

Could we get a lil something about Eggnog getting milked, please? I love them sm, they're my favorite 👀

Warning: Lactation, Light Smut, G.N Reader - no parts mention (smut is light after all) [mdni]

Scurrying in the halls - a common event given the recluse and timid nature of your housemate. In spite of your generous offer of a place in your bed - Elisha relished stalking the halls and dark corners of your room - petrified at the thought of taking advantage of your generosity and overstepping your boundaries. Lately, their odd behavior has become even more bizarre. Suppressed, almost agonized cries from their attic living space; mutted by the their pillow to allow you rest on the otherwise peaceful night. When you asked, Eggnog did not deny that it was them as they hated to lie - but refused to answer more. They hadn't snuck into your room either and grew more bashful than usual when they looked into your eyes; scampering back upstairs with so much as a hello.

You turn as the shower curtain in your bathroom are yanked back - piercing, yellow light emitting from beneath its door and under yours. The crank of the shower handle catches your ear as water jets out into the hollow tub. You hear the curtains closes, unable to return to sleep as their soft cries play for more reasons than one. You wanted to give Eggnog their space as they didn't do well confrontation - but you felt if you didn't say anything at all things would only get worse. At the sharp peak of their wails, your body jolts - rushing out of your bedroom and to the bathroom door; pounding on its frame.

"Eggnog?! Are you okay?"

A beat of silence falls. "Don't come in...."

Their voice sounds more strained than normal. "Eggnog, I don't care if you're naked. You sound hurt. Is the door unlocked?"

"....yes."

You jimmy the handle, pressing your weight against the door as it springs open and poking your head through. You make out their tall, shivering silhouette behind the curtain; sweater lying on the floor, but their pants nowhere to be seen. You enter, shutting the door as you walk over and grab the curtain. "I'm gonna pull this back, okay. Don't freak out - it's just me."

" 'm not scared of you.... never could be."

"Okay." You draw back the curtains slowly. Eggnog shrinks into a corner; torso bare and still wearing their now waterlogged pants. They cover themselves with a hand towel; cloth drenched in water and the fluids leaking from their puffy chest. They hide their face in one hand - tears caught in their lashes.

"Sorry.... this has never happened to me before and I didn't want to scare you.."

"Do you know what might've cause this?"

Their lips tremble. "You.... The more I thought about you, the more it hurt, but I can't.. I can't doing this right and.. and it hurts."

You hush them as they sniffle, ushering them into your arms which they heistantly comply - head lowered to your shoulder. "It's alright, Eli. Do you want me to help you?"

Elisha quivers. "Please."

"Alright. Let's get you to bed."

-

Leading Eggnog into your room, you shut the door behind them as you help them out of the rest of their soggy clothes - their hand reaching out to stop you and themselves before taking off their boxers; face clouded in red. You guide them over to the bed and sit them down first, taking a hand still clutched to their chest in yours. "Is it alright if I touch you?"

A nod - their hands falling into their lap as their eyes watch you inch closer. Their body stiffens as your hands meet their exposed, scarred flesh. Majority of their marks had faded thanks to the thickness of their skin and their healing rate, but the difference in feel remained. You didn't seem to mind at all, which resulted in Elisha slowly relaxing in your touch as your nimble fingers glide up to their nipple. They gasp; whimpering lowly as they pinch around the sensitive bud, the fluid dripping out a much thicker consistency than regular milk. You could see why they were having so much trouble getting it out.

"Ah!" Elisha yelps; the breath held between your lips as they come down on their chest too much for them. They shiver and whine at the roll of your tongue over their nipple; near tears as you pull back, eyes worried and lips coated.

"You ok?"

Eggnog sheepishly nods, paying no mind to the twitch in their shorts at the sight of your glossy lips. "Yes... please keep going."

You wrap your lips around their bud, sucking gently as Eggnog attempts to remain still for your comfort and theirs. The cream is sweet and rich; thickness reminding you of melted ice cream or thin custard. You knead their right breast as you tend to the left; readying for the eventually switch. The clogged milk flows over your fingers and dribbles down your palm. Elisha can no longer ignore the painful strain in their boxers, peaking past the band as they grip the flesh of your thigh - whimpering and moaning through their confession.

"mmh... feels good.. 'm sorry... hah."

You pull off their chest, eyes trailing down to their other hand palming the growth in their shorts. You switch over to the other side - kissing the mound and sweeping the beading cream with your tongue as you throw a leg over their lap, straddling the cow as you ease them against the headboard.

"I said I'd help you, didn't I? You don't have to keep apologizing for everything, Elisha."

Elisha swallows hard; flush reaching their ears at your admissions. They don't want to use you, they don't want to take advantage - but everytime you give all they want is more and more. Their arms cradle your neck as their length slaps against your midsection - rubbing against your skin as they buck their hips into you.

"Sorry, I'm sorry. I know you said not to be, but I can't... I can't do anything with you. Help me. Love me. Please."

Your tongue hits sluggishly as you siphon the milk from their chest; a spell of drowsiness overcoming from all the milk you've ingested and the nights previous you spent awake worry about them. You pull off with a soft pop from your moisted lips as your head falls to their shoulder; bodies pressed together as they cup your cheek, ramming your lips together. Their greedy tongue snakes out and laps the remaining cream off the corners of your mouth before Eggnog pulls you tighter against their chest, cock leaving a trail of slime up your stomach as your shirt rolls upwards. They shift so you're on top as they roll over onto their side; wispy hair fan out on your pillow and tickling your cheek. Their thumb strokes your cheek as a smile hides through the shadows in the room and their long locks. Their free hand comes up to lock around yours.

"Thank you...for never growing suck of me. I love you. Goodnight."

[moonlight404-translates]

A3! Mikage Hisoka | SSR - Aiming to keep you in check | Translation

----------------

The Role of the Novice King / 1

Izumi: (I’m pretty sure those materials were here—) 

Hisoka: Zzz… Izumi: Whoa?!  Izumi: T-That was scary…  Hisoka: …Director?  Izumi: Good morning. It’s surprising to find you sleeping in this place.  Hisoka: …It was chilly in the courtyard and attic because of the cloudy weather, and Arisu was so noisy in our room.  Hisoka: Azuma is not in the dorms either. The only place where I could sleep peacefully was here.  Izumi: That makes sense. But, why don’t you just stay awake?  Hisoka: …The winter troupe will drink together and have a chess tournament tonight.  Hisoka: I’m sleeping now because of that.  Izumi: (But you’re always sleeping, Hisoka-san.)  Izumi: Is the chess tournament for your role study? Your role in the event was… Hisoka: The… king… Hisoka: Zzz… Izumi: Fufu, he fell asleep in mid-sentence. Have a nice dream. 

Izumi: (I interrupted Hisoka’s nap, but, on the bright side, I got the materials I needed—) 

- Doorbell sound - 

Izumi: (...A guest?)  Izumi: Yes? Member of a troupe: Hello~.  Izumi: Ah, hello. Thank you for the other day.  Member of a troupe: I should say that. You did a lot for us that day.  Izumi: It was nothing, really. But… how can I help you today?  Member of a troupe: Oh, I’m sorry to show up without notice. But we were sorting some props and found some useful ones. So I brought them to you.  Izumi: Props…  Member of a troupe: You mentioned you wanted these props we didn’t use and were about to throw away if there was something still useful. Remember?   Izumi: Oh, yeah…!  Izumi: Thank you, and sorry to make you bring them.  Member of a troupe: Don’t worry. I was near here.  Member of a troupe: I’ll leave them here, then. See you some other time.  Izumi: Of course, thank you! 

- The member left - 

Citron: Was that a friend, director?  Sakuya: Whoa, there are so many props!  Izumi: Nice timing. Can you two help me carry these props? 

The Role of the Novice King / 2

Citron: –Phew~. And that’s all!  Izumi: Thanks.  Masumi: What’s that?  Izumi: Someone from a troupe I helped before gave me these props they no longer use.  Itaru: Again…?  Chikage: Don’t you think we start to look like a junk removal place?  Izumi: A junk removal… Hey! Many things there can still be used!  Tsuzuru: In any case, we should sort out what we can use in performances or practices and what we cannot.  Hisoka: Yawn… Good morning.  Izumi: Hm? Are you awake now?  Hisoka: I wanted to eat marshmallows.  Citron: Help us organize these blobs, Hisoka! Tsuzuru: Organize these props.  Hisoka: …Sounds like a lot of work. Chikage: Your luck ran out when you woke up. Quit complaining and come help us.  Hisoka: Sigh…  Sakuya: There are many things here.  Masumi: Everything is trash.  Itaru: I’d agree, but one man’s trash is another man’s treasure.  Tsuzuru: Ah, we can use this pot in the dorms… wait, where is the bottom?!  Tsuzuru: What play could have needed this…? Itaru: That’s quite intriguing. Look, over here are bending chopsticks.  Izumi: Fufu, that comes from a company that does some surreal comedy. This box feels light. Maybe there are costumes inside… Izumi: …A crown?  Sakuya: Ah, there seems to be a cape underneath!  Izumi: (A crown and cape… Ah!) Izumi: Don’t you want to use them, Hisoka-san? Your role for the next event is a king, after all.  Citron: Oh! It could help in his role study if he wears it!  Hisoka: Role study… But it’s not a very complicated role…  Citron: Hisoka, you can’t become a king poltergeist. Hisoka: …I wasn’t planning to.  Tsuzuru: He means overnight.  Itaru: A strong statement from a former crown prince despite his broken Japanese.  Chikage: Indeed, one can’t acquire a regal aura immediately. Hisoka: When you say it like that… I feel like I have to do a role study for it.  Citron: Then me and Itaru will help!  Itaru: Eh, me too? Sure, I guess…  Hisoka: This became more problematic…  Chikage: Good luck.  Citron: Let’s start right away!  Izumi: But first, let’s tidy all this up. 

Itaru: Okay, now that we finished tidying up everything, may the role study begin.  Hisoka: … Citron: In the first place, it’s the flavor of a king. Itaru: Behavior.  Citron: I’m pretty sure the costume for the performance will have a fancy cape. So try to make the cape flutter smoothly.  Hisoka: …Okay.  Hisoka: Like this? Itaru: Exaggerate it some more. It would look cooler if you lift it higher.  Hisoka: …Like this? Itaru: No, it’s more like… this!  Hisoka: …Is this okay?  Itaru: Hmm…  Citron: Non, non. That makes it look like you have chuunibyou instead of a king. It needs more elegance.   Itaru: Severely criticized by the royalty.  Hisoka: Elegance…  Hisoka: Like this?  Citron: Yes, yes! Perfect!  Hisoka: …I could use this as a reference. Maybe. Hisoka: Then, I’ll take my leave…  Citron: Moving on to the next one!  Hisoka: …There’s more?

The Role of the Novice King / 3

Hisoka: …Marsh… mallow…  Izumi: You’ve worked hard, Hisoka-san. Here, take a marshmallow. Izumi: How was the practice for your role study?  Hisoka: …It was useful at the beginning.  Izumi: What do you mean?  Izumi: —Wait, that black rod thing isn’t…  Hisoka: Ah, I brought the whip with me. I’ll give it back to Citron later.  Izumi: A whip!? Why would you need that?! Hisoka: “What insolence! What disrespect! You, lick my boots!”  Izumi: HUH?!  Hisoka: …And we had a whipping lesson.  Izumi: So it was the King of Hearts becoming the King of Harm… Hisoka: It happened during Arisu’s performance too.  Izumi: (Right, it did happen something like that…) Izumi: But Hisoka-san’s role doesn’t have that personality, right…?  Hisoka: No. That’s why I said it was only useful at the beginning. It was a behavior lesson.  Izumi: (I was the one who suggested it… I’m feeling a bit guilty about this…)  Hisoka: Yawn… So sleepy… Hisoka: I finished my king role study. That’s why… director, lower your head for a moment.  Izumi: Eh? L-Like this?  Hisoka: “I bestow this upon you. Consider yourself honored.” Izumi: …The crown?  Hisoka: This is also part of the king’s role. 

Choice 1: You’re right. 

Izumi: Fufu, you’re right.  Izumi: So, this is how it feels to receive the crown from the king.  Hisoka: How do you feel?  Izumi: Hmm… a bit nervous, but excited? Something like that…  Izumi: Like if you receive a special gift.  Hisoka: …I see. 

Choice 2: You were like a real king. 

Izumi: It felt like you were a real king.  Hisoka: Do you mean I acted like Citron? Izumi: Hmm… It was a little different… But I could feel a royal aura coming from you.  Hisoka: Even if I didn’t move the cape?  Izumi: Cape…?  Hisoka: …I was talking to me. I’m glad you felt I was like a king. 

Izumi: Then your role study seemed to work well.  Hisoka: That’s why I gave the crown and cape to you, director.  Izumi: It’s an honor, but… someone else needs it more than me. So I’ll have to decline.  Hisoka: Someone else needs it…?  Hisoka: …I think I know who it is. Then, I’ll give it to him later.  Hisoka: I’m tired. I’ll sleep until the winter troupe comes. Director, please… wake me up…  Hisoka: Zzz…Zzz… Izumi: Good night, your Highness.

---------------- Translation notes: 

-> Citron's mistakes

Original: お豆腐の整理 (otofu no seiri) → 小道具整理 (kodougu seiri) Adaptation: Organize these blobs → Organize these props. 

Original: 胃腸炎と咳 (ichouen to seki) → 一朝一夕 (icchoisseki) Adaptation: Poltergeist → Overnight

Original: 立ち飲みシュウマイ (tachinomi shuumai) → 一立ち居振る舞い (tachiifurumai) Adaptation: Flavor → Behavior

Notes:  When Hisoka says “It happened during Arisu’s performance too”, he might be talking about receiving Citron’s help in the Witness From the Past backstage (MLAM Hisoka’s SSR). 

[starwarsmum]

Day 19 is Asking Advice! First follow up to day 4

@maribat-calendar-events

When Damian returned from the hospital and met with Jon, he was almost bowled over with questions and curiosity. He gave him a very sanitised version of events, leaving out his time as a superhero as he knew he wouldn't live it down. But he did tell him all about the girl with the concussion, who's friends didn't seem to care enough about her even after she fell into a river.

“I intend to do my due diligence and check on her within the next day or so,” he added as an afterthought. But he should have kept it as an inside thought, because Jon immediately latched onto it.

“I thought you said she was being looked after by her parents?” The super asked, eyebrows raised. At Damian's noncommittal shrug, his eyes narrowed. “Dames, that's not going to fly with me right now. Why, exactly, are you planning to invade this girl's home?”

“Tt, if you must know, her parents invited me to their bakery,” Damian huffed, averting his gaze as a light blush traveled up his neck. Jon stared at him in silence but Damian refused to elaborate further. “We are due to visit the Louvre this afternoon, are we not?”

No matter how much Jon badgered him after that, Damian refused to discuss Marinette. And it wasn't until three days after his initial meeting with her that he was able to get away from his class for long enough that he could visit the bakery.

Stepping into the busy space, he glanced around until his eyes locked onto Marinette. She was laughing at something her mother was saying, eyes bright as she sat behind the counter, and Damian felt a buzz start up in his ears. 

He had thought she was beautiful when she was soaking wet and concussed, but confronted with her looking happy and healthy? His heart hammered in his chest as he watched her. His thoughts raced as he debated whether he should actually approach her. (Un)Fortunately, the decision was taken out of his hands.

“Ah, our young hero is here!” Marinette's father's loud voice boomed across the bakery, and Damian flushed as everyone in the bakery turned to look at him. He turned even redder when Marinette turned her head in his direction even as a smile broke out across her face. “Come in, please, make yourself comfortable!”

“Papa, I think he would probably like to get out of the way,” Marinette said, her smile turning nervous. “Would you like to come upstairs? It's busy during the lunch rush and we can talk a little more freely up there.”

“She's right, Tom, let the kids head upstairs out of the way. She's been bored since her friends haven't visited yet, so she might as well go and relax. Take whatever you want for lunch though,” her mother said, smiling kindly at the pair.

“Thank you, Maman!”

After selecting pastries and promising to let them know if she needed anything Marinette led Damian upstairs. They stopped in the kitchen to get drinks - a tea for Damian and a coffee for Marinette - before heading up into the attic of the apartment. 

His first thought as they stepped into the room was she really likes pink. His second was less of a thought and more of an exclamation as over a dozen tiny gods rushed out to say hello to them both. Marinette called for order and the Kwamis subsided, all darting in different directions.

“Sorry about them. And about my parents, they can get a little…excited, when a boy comes over,” Marinette said, grimacing even as she blushed. “So, um, I assume you're here to talk about the whole Ladybug thing?”

“It was certainly a contributing factor to my accepting the invitation your parents extended, yes,” he said. “I did wish to make sure your head injury was improving as well.”

“Oh, yes, I'm feeling much better, thank you! Tikki told me you jumped into the river after me, so thank you for that as well. Um, and thank you for getting Alya to call my parents, or talk to the nurses or whatever it is you got her to do. And for stepping in when-”

“Yes, you are welcome,” he interrupted, sure that he was a matching shade of red to her own face. “You are truly better? Concussions can last longer than you would think and I would hate for you to come to harm when you have such an important role in protecting Paris.”

“Having the Ladybug Miraculous speeds up my recovery time from injuries,” she admitted, smiling at Tikki as she cuddled up to her. “And the doctors said you did exactly the right thing in getting me seen, so it's really because of you I'm recovering so well.”

An embarrassed silence stretched in front of them until Damian cleared his throat and gestured for them both to sit. Once they were comfortable, he decided it was time to get to the bottom of this whole Hawkmoth mess.

“How long have you been fighting against Hawkmoth? And do you have a mentor?”

“I mean, I had Master Fu for a while but…I'm kind of running things by myself now? Since he erased his memories and made me the guardian, I mean. Not that he was super involved before that point,” Marinette explained thoughtfully. “There's also maybe a whole order out there? But they don't really approve of how I'm doing things, so there's that.”

“So you have been fighting an emotional terrorist with only the support of your partner? I presume he at least knows and assists in your duties as guardian.”

“I mean. He shows up for battles? But it's kind of hard to support each other without revealing our identities which would not end well.”

“But you have someone to talk to about all of this, correct?” Damian felt like he was stuck in a nightmare. Not only was Marinette saying that her crime fighting partner had no idea who she was, but she was tackling the burden of being in charge of the duo as well.

“Well, given I'm talking to you right now, I guess technically yes? But you're the only person who knows that I'm Ladybug other than Tikki,” Marinette admitted. Damian rubbed his temples in frustration, actively working not to say something offensive.

“Marinette, this is not sustainable, you must know that,” he said at last, looking her in the eye and almost pleading with her. She flushed and fiddled with her phone charm, looking away from him. “Alright, given you have no-one else to rely on, you will have to make do with me. And I am going to tell you now that I am only in Paris for another week, so we will either need to end the threat before I leave or I will have to return.”

“How are you so calm about all of this?” Marinette asked, awe written across her features. 

“Tt, I live in Gotham and we have the world's greatest detective as our resident vigilante,” he sniffed in return, picking and choosing what he could say to assure her he could help without giving away secrets he wasn't supposed to. “Attacks are fairly common in our city and we have all become accustomed to certain things in regards to dealing with a villain.”

“I wish we had help, but I can't risk the Justice League coming in and getting akumatised,” Marinette said mournfully. “Otherwise I would have called for help ages ago. But I just can't see myself taking on a full grown trained adult and coming away unscathed.”

“Well, you have my assistance now. It is too late to, as they say, unring that particular bell and I have no intention of leaving you to fend for yourself. I am still going to be spending time with my class as part of our trip, but we have been given a fair amount of latitude in regards to our free time. Give me your phone and I shall input my number for you to contact me on.”

She handed her phone over, eyes wide as he did exactly as he said. She accepted it back after he was finished, staring at the contact information. She mouthed his name and he felt a flush starting to spread up his neck again. She jumped when he cleared his throat and blushed as well.

“Sorry, I didn't catch your name last time so my parents and I have just been calling you ‘hero’. But I like your name a lot better,” she offered, smiling prettily. She looked away from him to send him a message so that he had her number as well.

They chatted for a while longer, Marinette pulling out her conspiracy boards and explaining who they had already ruled out as being Hawkmoth as well as an explanation as to why. He frowned and made a mental note to double check each name on the list because, even though she had sound reasoning, it was not airtight.

When he left the bakery several hours later he was laden down with boxes of pastries and a sense of purpose. He also had a flutter in his stomach when Marinette kissed his cheek in farewell but he was trying to put that out of his mind. 

“So how was she doing?” Jon asked when Damian reached him. “Oh my god, are those pastries? Please tell me you're going to share with me.”

“She is doing well,” Damian replied, offering the box of pastries to his friend. He was still thinking about how he had reacted to Marinette and the way his pulse still spiked when he thought about her complimenting his name. 

“Oh yeah? Guess that means you won't be seeing her again, huh,” Jon said, pulling a croissant out of the box. “Ooooh, nice! Was this baked today?”

“Well, we have exchanged contact information,” Damian admitted, refusing to look at Jon even as the super almost dropped his pastry in surprise. “I find her company to be…enjoyable.”

“Huh, she must be something special to make you give her such a big compliment,” Jon said innocently, taking a big bite of the croissant. “So, what, you just decided her friends suck and you're gonna be a better one?”

“In a manner of speaking, yes. I would appreciate your advice, however,” he added in a strained voice. The magnitude of what he was feeling was starting to set in, and he was worried that if he approached this with his usual attitude he was going to scare the girl away. “If I were interested in a less platonic relationship with someone, how should I go about making it clear?”

“Well, you're gonna need to give me a minute, because that is not what I was expecting you to say. Holy moly, I have to meet this girl.”

_ _ _

Damian stood nervously outside the bakery again. Jon had told him to be himself but to be forthright with Marinette. So rather than wait to see if she was available the next time he had free time, he shoved the box of pastries into Jon's hands and turned right back around.

But luck was not on his side, because when he did finally build up the courage to step inside, Marinette's mother - Sabine, she insisted he call her - informed him that Marinette's friends had taken her out for ice cream. Thanking Sabine, he took her directions to this André and walked quickly in the direction of the Pont des Arts bridge.

He spotted the same large group as previously and bit back a growl when he saw the same brunette who had knocked Marinette into the river last time hovering closely to her. It seemed as though they had yet to order their ice cream and they were all pairing up; an issue was arising in who a blond boy should be paired with as there was an uneven number.

“Marinette, may I speak with you?” She turned at the sound of her name and the look on her face brightened from the annoyed scowl she was directing at the brunette. 

“Damian! Um, we were just going to get some ice cream, did you want to get some with me? Then we could sit down and talk if you want,” she said, blushing slightly.

“Of course,” he replied, offering his elbow to her. He tried not to grin too widely when she took hold of it, but permitted himself to smirk at the blond who was staring at him. “I have not heard much about this André, but your parents assured me that I would enjoy it.”

By the time they had reached the ice cream cart, Damian had gathered that they all believed it to have special properties. As in, eat ice cream with your loved one and be together forever properties. When he raised an eyebrow at Marinette, she was quick to assure him that he also did friend ice cream, and that he shouldn't feel pressured to get the sweetheart ice cream if he didn't want to.

“I mean, Alya's convinced that he's a meta because he can supposedly tell who your soulmate is by reading your heart,” she said in a light tone, though her cheeks reddened again.

“Am I to understand that you have already seen your sweetheart colours?” He asked, leaning down to murmur it in her ear. They were at the end of the queue of teenagers and it felt less like a group outing given they were only talking to each other. She nodded but didn't elaborate and he felt the curiosity burning in his chest. “Should I make a guess as to what my own will be?”

Before she could form a coherent reply they found themselves in front of André. He squinted at them both and Damian ordered a sweetheart cone before Marinette could stop him. At that point the ice cream man glanced at the blond who was gazing lovingly at a cone made with blue and red.

“Hmmmm, for you two, a scoop of cherry and a scoop of chocolate, for the tart sweetness in her and the darkness hidden in him,” he said at last, handing it over with a flourish. “A classic pair that stands strong together. Enjoy!”

The class was staring at them but Damian was secretly elated - their ice cream flavours worked well together, a classic the man had said. Holding onto the cone and her hand, he led her to a space separate to her friends and sat close to her.

“I cannot say I disagree with his observation,” he said at last, offering the first spoon of ice cream to Marinette. He had taken the spoon out of her side and held it out to her at mouth level. She blushed but leaned forward to take the bite.

“I do like both cherry and chocolate,” she said shyly, keeping her position leaning towards him. His mouth was dry and he couldn't taste his own spoonful of ice cream but he refused to move away from her. 

“I am glad to be getting ice cream with you,” he said gently, stomach erupting in butterflies when she smiled at him from only inches away. He swallowed and decided to take the plunge. “I know you do not know me very well yet, but I would like to change that. Would you be against going out with me during my stay in Paris?”

“I'd love to,” she said, dropping her head onto his shoulder. Damian grinned as she ate another spoon of ice cream and rested his cheek on the top of her head.

Part 3

[iturnlemonadeintolemons]

hi! i loved what you're doing with kc now, can i request something like klaus and caroline doing something mundane and human and we see them living their married couple life? can be a drabble or a full lenth, what ever you want ;p

“Maybe this one?”

“I don’t get it.”

“What’s there not to get?”

“The fabric looks so…dull.”

“It’s supposed to have a shimmering effect in the sunlight.”

“That’ll just remind me of Twilight. No.”

“They're curtains.”

“So?”

Klaus clicks his tongue. “Love—”

“No. No. Do not use that tone with me, Niklaus Mikaelson.”

Ooh. Full named. He’s on thin ice now. “Sweetheart, it’s very simple. It’s a very simple choice, this one or that one.”

“It is so not a simple choice. We’re deciding on curtains for the living room. If you think that’s a simple decision you should just leave right now.”

He reminds himself that answering that is a trap.

Oh, how he wishes he could leave. There’s a new box of paints waiting for him at home, made from shells, a gift from Elijah, and he was hoping to get done with shopping and get home before three, at most.

It’s bloody six and he’s listened to Caroline drone on about stitching patterns for two fucking hours now. One would think they’d be done with the furniture by now, but no. They're just getting started on the upholstery. Heaven forbid Caroline’s exacting tastes allow any of his antique furniture pieces into the living room.

It’s from the fifteenth century, love—

It has clawed feet, Klaus. No.

Sweetheart—

I let you keep the bathtub, but I'm drawing the line on the ottoman. No.

It’s a fine piece—

A tacky one.

Well, I happen to think that of your patio table.

That had been a terribly stupid move.

So now, he’s being punished by being forced to give his opinions on furniture he doesn’t care about. He’s this close to pulling out his hair, and if he sees one more chair with birds on it he’ll be breaking it.

“Caroline—” he whines.

She shuts him up with a glare. “If I wanted to hear whining, I would’ve brought Enzo. Now, opinion.” She holds up two squares of fabric against the light. “Which one?”

Now, see. Klaus is an artist. He prides himself on being one of the best there are, not to brag, but one’s ability is refined after a thousand years. He’s been splashing colours onto surfaces ever since he can remember, the vibrant hues and shades leaving him fascinated since he was a boy. Paints, charcoal, the paint he made from various berries and flowers when he had been human…colours have never left him frazzled.

He knows for sure Caroline’s going to rip off his head when he tells her they’re the exact same colour.

Then he remembers he doesn’t particularly care about his curtains, so he says, “The one on the left.”

Caroline smiles. “There. That wasn’t so hard, was it?”

“Of course not,” he grumbles.

“Hm,” she says distractedly, pressing a quick kiss to his cheek and moving towards the counter. “We’ll get these, then. They’ll go great with your ottoman.”

Klaus’s eyes fly up to meet hers, and she gives him a small smile, one that never fails to leave him reeling. “I'm not a total dictator, you know. I don’t want it to only feel like my home, and not yours. I want it to be ours.”

It’s such a small gesture. In truth, Klaus hadn’t given the ottoman a second thought when they’d had that fight and she’d glared at him angrily and dragged it away to the attic, only focusing on how he could get her in a better mood if only to look at her smile again.

He loves it when she smiles, because oh, her smile is so beautiful. She’s so beautiful.

“Klaus?”

Caroline’s looking at him, her blue eyes concerned. “Are you okay? Did you hear what I said?”

“Yes,” he answers, drawing her in for a kiss. She goes forward with a surprised sound low in her throat, her hands resting on her shoulders. The saleslady clears her throat and Caroline jumps away from him, her face reddening as she turns to her and starts rambling about cushion covers and duvets.

Klaus watches her fondly, all traces of annoyance with her disappearing.

In truth, he’d let her cover the whole house in pink wallpaper if it meant he got to see her laugh every day.

He’d let her do anything, really.

Everything.

[writing-with-gremworm]

The Winter Duke

Notes:

Mentions of/implied abuse

Unhealthy relationship dynamic

Obsessive behavior

Yandere!Wriothesley

A little slow to start

The Duke of the North is a terrifying and cold figure. He is said to have slaughtered thousands and abandoned many to the monsters plaguing the snows. So it came as a surprise to you when he seemed like an ordinary guy during your first conversation.

"You must be (Y/N). I'm sorry you had to come here on such short notice, but I can assure you that this arranged marriage will not be permanent." The cold Duke states, motioning for me to sit down, "In the meantime, we have much to discuss. I don't expect your help for free."

"Ah, yes, that is only fair." Your voice quivers slightly. You were surprised he offered you such a deal. Generally speaking, you were seen as useless given what your power was. You had an affinity for minor mimicry. This meant you could make ice cubes after someone made a glacier, or a glass of water after someone made it rain. The power itself was weak, so it was dismissed. Especially since you came from a long line of saints. The (L/N) family were known as some of the greatest healers. Though how that healing was developed was a family secret and one that made you want to throw up when you thought about it. Your skin itches a bit at the thought.

"First, allow me to make a proper introduction. My name is Wriothesley, the Duke of North Fontaine."

"You've already gathered my name ... um, Rizzley."

"Wriothesley."

"Rizzley, what exactly do you expect of me? I know you seek the (L/N) name because of its ties to previous saints, do you seek a healer? If so, I can not help you." You state simply, looking at Wriothesley with a shakey gaze. Your heart was racing, he was said to be the coldest man in the empire, how could you not shiver?

"No, I already know you're the black sheep of your family. What I seek is your ability to move freely. I am confined to this place, as such, I need eyes. One who is as, and forgive me for this, generic as you will go unnoticed." You wince a bit and sigh. You were glad he wasn't going to kiss up to you because of your title, but it still stung to be told so blatantly you were boring.

"No, that's a fair assessment." You smile, Wriothesley's lips flatten more, but you don't notice, "But why can't you just leave? I know the social world has cast you in a ... less than positive light ... but you're not trapped here are you?"

"We'll discuss that when it becomes relevant. For now, just know I can not leave the North."

"... Cryptic. But okay. So, what will you offer me?" You swallow, looking at him with feigned courage. Your heart beat so quickly it felt like a hammer was bashing against the burdensome ribcage acting as a wall.

"If you help me, I will help you. This means you can ask for anything. A villa, money, even fame." Was he serious? You couldn't sense any change in tone, and he didn't put on a fake smile like your father did when he wanted something. Maybe you wanted to believe him. Maybe you should.

"Money ... sounds reasonable." You start, taking a shallow breath before continuing, "But you'll have to compensate me appropriately. Let's write a contract detailing what you want from me and what you think it's worth. I'll adjust it as needed to fit my conditions."

"... Alright. I can do that. Louis, escort Mx. (L/N) to their room." Wriothesley looks to his attendant and gestures toward me.

"Of course, Your Grace." Louis states with a polite smile, "Come with me Mx. (L/N)."

-- After the door closes Wriothesley smiles a bit before quickly covering his mouth.

"They're even better in person ... Ah, I hope you stay for a very long time (Y/N)" Wriothesley mutters to himself.

In truth, Wriothesley has been watching them for a long time. Fleur, his assistant, helped curate rumors to make the (L/N) family give in to his wishes. --

Louis opens the door to your room and you're surprised by its grandeur. It's a stark contrast to the attic you'd lived in before this. In the (L/N) family you aren't permitted to live in the second-floor rooms until you've awaked holy power. As you did not awaken said power, you were forced to remain in the attic. This attic was designed to test the limits of your body to encourage the propagation of holy power. Though, no matter how much you were tested, not a speck of holy light flowed through your fingertips.

Laying on the fluffy bed you close your eyes. If your bed had been like this, would you have been less tired? You don't know, but you can feel the exhaustion setting in. The distance between the Duke's estate and your own was several weeks without a magic portal. Given the prowess of both families, you only had to spend a few days on the road. The trip was still unpleasant. As part of the (L/N) tradition, you had to ride in the most frugal of carriages and fast daily.

"I'm scared." You admit, hugging your pillow tightly as your heartbeat lulls you to sleep. The familiar racing pace creates a frame to justify rest. After all, you already knew the pattern, it was too tiresome to punish someone half asleep, they never seemed to remember properly.

--

"So this is all?" You look at the contract, surprised it is so short.

"Yes, that is all. It is simple and to the point. I'm quite certain you'll be happy with the terms." Wriothesley states simply, leaning onto his hand as he glances over you. His silver eyes seem to pierce through you. You avert your gaze and quickly read the contract.

"So you wish for me to be your face?" This was troublesome. Your face in the social world was not well known, but your name was the current gossip of high society. Would you really be okay if you became his face? Surely Wriothesley, someone of Ducal status, already knew this. So why?

"That's ... one way to phrase it. Yes, as stated there, you'll be taking my place in socials and surveying the territory while I am still bound to my place." Wriothesley's expression shifts slightly, a hint of annoyance clouding his eyes before his gaze returns to a neutral state. You flinch without realizing it, it would be too much to ask him more now. It was safer to accept this.

"This ... is too much Mora. Besides, this contract doesn't detail the marriage aspect. I thought that was part of this." This much was reasonable, it didn't make you seem weak, and you could still get more information.

"The marriage is set to last until I'm no longer stuck in this place. I will write that down if you need."

"... Alright. I didn't realize you were the forgetful type. I thought that was my role." You write down that and alter the amount of Mora you'll receive before handing the document back to Wriothesley. You swear he smiles a little when you pass it over.

"Well, now that the contract is settled, I'll have Louis fill you in on your first task."

"Right, right, you're probably busy since you still have to do all of the paperwork." You nod and look over to Louis who has the same polite smile as yesterday. Besides, this was a great excuse to leave the room.

-- "Fleur, I have a task for you. Can you do some research into the secrets of the (L/N) family? Ah, and look into Transfer Relics." Wriothesley had a feeling his reports were missing something, while he liked this malleable version of (Y/N), they seemed different from what he'd been told.

"Transfer Relics- but aren't those only effective at moving curses?"

"Exactly." Fleur knew what that meant. She thought (Y/N) was fragile, a glass bird riddled with imperfections. Maybe that is why Wriothesley had taken an interest in them.

"... Understood, Your Grace." Fleur was sure now, Wriothesley's interest in (Y/N) would act as their cage, and she had no intention of saving them. At least in a cage, the glass might not break. --

"Eh? Wait, I have to attend the Royal Assembly? I guess that's why this marriage was so rushed." You mutter. You swallow nervously and place a hand to your chin. Your eyes dart to the nearest vase so you look preoccupied with thought.

"That is correct Mx. The Duke's family was required to go this time, however, as you can see, only Wriothesley remains of the main bloodline and until you, he had no spouse."

"Ah ... because of the rumors right?"

"Yes, I'm afraid so." Louis pulls out a handkerchief and wipes his eyes, "Ah, forgive me, I'm a little emotional. It's been so long since Wriothesley had someone to call family, however temporary this is." Something about the way he said it made you feel a little bad.

But, this was temporary, and you all knew that. Though, staying here for a while doesn't seem like a bad thing. At least you get to eat multiple times a day instead of just once. Your bed was soft too, it felt much warmer than the firm attic one at the (L/N) residence.

--

Attending Empress Furina's Assembly is something you never expected to do. Your oldest sister and father attended regularly, but you were never qualified to attend. Even now, you were taking Wriothesley's place, so it felt like you didn't belong. You may have accepted it with open arms, but the doubts you had were so loud. They screamed at you, tearing at your hair and reminding you of what happens when you don't listen.

You make it to the assembly room before your mind traps you in the background. You hear your name announced, but you can't even move your lips.

You try to step out of your head, but something drags you back in. The tendrils of cold and hot wrap around your body and remind you of the torn flesh and the inability to breathe. You try to scream, but nothing comes out. You try to look around, but the only colours surrounding you are black and red. They cover your vision and the red creeps outward. You finally move your hands, only to see them covered in a deep crimson that has started to flake.

"Mx. Are you alright?" A cool voice cuts through the screaming silence.

"A-Ah ..." Your mouth opens, but only weak sounds escape it.

"My liege, I'll escort this guest to a rest chamber, please continue the tea ceremony without us." The man with silver hair tells Empress Furina calmly. The blue streaks reminded you of the water, or maybe of a dragon's horns. Your eyes widen when you realize who is escorting you away from the Royal Assembly.

"Justice Neuvillette ... You need not have left to escort me ... but I ... thank you. I am in no place to berate you for attending to my needs. That would be rude." Your throat hurts, but at least the words seem to sound normal, maybe no one would be able to tell you'd just frozen up. Unfortunately, your legs and hands were shaking noticeably, so it was clear you shouldn't be left alone. The red still faintly overlaid your fingers, it made you want to puke.

You look at your hand and notice Neuvillette holding it. Maybe he thought you wouldn't be able to follow along without guidance. It was sweet in its own right. Neuvillette, too, had a reputation that preceded him so this gentle side was new. Maybe that difference made you feel a sense of calm.

"Think nothing of it. I simply wanted to help my friend's spouse." Neuvillette dismisses it with amusement colouring his words.

"Did you two bond over scary reputations-" You start before covering your mouth with your free hand. Why did your tongue move so freely with this man?

"No, though said rumors are one thing we seem to have in common. If that were a tell, then you'd be my friend too, no?"

"Huh? But I- don't have much of a reputation, do I? As the black sheep maybe, but nothing more."

"Ah, I suppose you're not aware of the other rumors. Then pay me no mind, if such things have not tainted your ears, it is better to leave it here." Neuvillette states, clearing his throat and opening the door for you to step inside the resting area. You furrow your brow.

"But if it is about me, then shouldn't I be aware?"

"Some things are better left unknown. Though, if you wish to know, I will ask you something first. Why weren't your sister and Father with us at the assembly Today?" You look surprised. You hadn't had time to register anyone's faces, just the flood of anxiety that threatened to eat you alive.

"I ..." You start, but you realize quickly your answer wouldn't have made sense. You could have suggested they were both ill or otherwise wished to avoid you, but in public, they always pretended to adore you and they were healers who had excellent natural constitutions, "Someone prevented them from being here today."

"... In a sense, they were prevented from being able to attend," Neuvillette confirms, though his phrasing concerns you a bit.

"I ... see. What does this have to do with the rumors?" You ask pointedly.

"They imply that you're the person who ... barred the attendance of your family." Neuvillette pauses in the middle, clearly thinking about something else before deciding on this phrasing.

"But it doesn't make sense for them to avoid me ..."

"Regardless, you should take a seat and breathe. I'll return to the assembly if you do not wish for me to stay."

"I'll be fine. Thank you." You say certain that you could find your way back when you were sure you were okay.

--

"Fleur, you've done exceptionally this time. The (L/N) family was keeping this sort of thing, hm? Well, I suppose as a family of healers, it's only right they once held something so precious." Wriothesley smiles, his lips forming a tight curve as he holds a glowing sphere.

"Your Grace, this has caused rumors to spread about your spouse. Should I handle those?"

"... No, rather, we should use them to our advantage, no?" Rumors are what brought them here, so rumors would bring them closer.

"Understood."

--

"I apologize for earlier, your highness." You bow before Furina once you get a chance to speak with her.

"Hm, well I suppose you should. It's only right." Furina starts before Neuvillette clears his throat quietly, "Ahem, I graciously accept your apology! But to make up for this transgression, you must attend my next Tea Party!" Furina insists, throwing her hand out to point at me. You blink, a little surprised this is the only reprimand someone of her stature is giving you.

In the (L/N) household you had to isolate and pray for several days for your wrongs, especially with something of this caliber. Your knees start to tense up, and your calves pulse with phantom pain at the thought of it. You notice Furina's gaze and realize you haven't responded.

"Oh- yes, of course, Your Highness." You promptly reply with a polite smile. Neuvillette notices something in your demeanor that concerns him. Perhaps, he thought, Wriothesley's words were correct.

--

Wriothesley was displeased when he heard (Y/N) was invited back to the palace. He was well aware of why, (Y/N) was his spouse, so they should stay nearer to him, but it wasn't time to let them see that side of him. After all, wouldn't they run away? There were moments, little flickers of their gaze, a slight alteration in the way they breathed, a change in stance, or even something they forgot in their routine that told him they were afraid of something, but their smile remained.

He recognized that smile, it was something he had grown tired of using. The mask to deter those who would pray on sorrow. It was the mask someone deeply hurt would use. It was the reason he'd orchestrated the death of the (L/N) family.

"They need me. They need my hand." He mutters. Wriothesley closes his eyes and imagines holding their fragile body in his arms. In this fantasy, one hand was on their fragile neck, the other wrapped around their waist. He imagined how warm they would feel in his arms, how delicate their lips would look as they trembled. His breath hitched as he thought about kissing them, taking their soft lips with his own. The petal-like touch and spring warmth would surely be addicting. He knew, of course, that he was the one who needed them most. Though, he didn't understand how he'd come to adore this fragile being.

Wriothesley opened his eyes and peered at the artifact. He smiled, knowing it was almost time to put it to use.

--

The day you were to attend Furina's Tea Party approached more quickly than you imagined. You sigh as you look out the window. You wondered if it would be like last time- if you would freeze in place and be unable to speak. Your fingers trembled, so you gripped your dress clothes tightly.

The carriage rattles and thrusts you against its door. You take a moment to reorient yourself before you see the window is looking up into the sky, not the treeline. Your carriage had fallen over.

"Assassins." You mutter. You knew some hated you, but you never thought it was to the point they'd want you dead. Though, did you mind? Before this, hadn't you wished for death?

"I need someone as my eyes and ears." But you were needed now. Even so, was it a position only you could fill? Surely not.

"Found you~ Now, why don't you let your Godfather take you home, hm?" A strange and yet familiar voice coos, accompanied by sullied blue hair and a crow-like mask.

"Godfather- then- Father has died?" You ask, looking at the man, confused. You're not sure if he heard you. Your throat feels stuffy, so the volume of your words is minimal.

"Yep! You have no idea how long I've waited. So, (Y/N), will you come with me willingly? You have nothing to lose, do you?" The man, claiming to be your godfather, whispers cruelly. Your hands shook, and his grin seemed to widen. Did your fear excite him? Who was this? It hit you. This was the 'God' that Father prayed to. But he was no God, not really. His essence was too cruel to be the benevolent God Father claimed to love.

"Y-Your name." You stutter.

"Hm? Well, I suppose I can tell you that, under the pretense, I get to know something from you first. Tell me, (Y/N), what do you think I am?" Did he know what you were thinking? Could he read your face? You didn't know, but your mouth refused to move. His presence felt like a thick ooze, sinking and slipping over your skin, entangling your flesh and clothes in its putrid fluidity.

"I asked a question. Do I need to ask again?" His hand touched your chin, his skin freezing to the touch.

"A false God." You manage. Though you hadn't intended to be so honest.

"A false God? Hahaha! Good, then you don't expect me to be gentle. I am Il Dottore." The man smiled widely, his sharp, shark-like teeth catching light on the edges as shadow cascaded over his face and mask. You press your back against the carriage door instinctually, your body shaking. Why did that scare you? Why did that name sound so familiar? It wasn't the name of a God, no, it was the title of something far worse, far more mortal.

"The Wings of Revolution-"

"Oh? You know of us? Well, that makes it easier." Dottore grabs your wrist and pulls you out of the carriage, "Ah, minor mimicry, what a fascinating skill. I'm excited to learn all about it."

Just like that, it felt like your world was being consumed. How would you escape this? You were frozen in place. A stream of water replaces the spot Dottore's head used to be.

"It looks like I got here on time. I'll escort you back to the Wriothesley Estate. I'm afraid it would be too dangerous to finish the journey to the palace." Neuvillette states with a sigh, "Worry not about Furina, I will discuss this with her." You nod without thinking and look down at the headless body in front of you. Instead of viscera, you notice wood.

"It wasn't ... him ... Then what was that ominous feeling?"

"... Yes, it was Puppet Magic. The real culprit remains intact." Neuvillette confirms your suspicions in an instant. Puppet magic is well known as cruel magic. It is a manipulation of the soul and body. That magic is most commonly used like this, as an extension of the creator's will. In this case, it was a doll made to host a piece of the soul and memory of the creator. Of course, this likely means that the creator knows what happened here since those memories return once the exterior unit is destroyed.

"Then he will come back ..." You realize, your gaze blurring as a rush of nausea grasps your neck and stomach.

"I can not deny that. However, I can assure you that Wriothesley, within his Domain, will stand by you." Neuvillette tries to comfort you. He sounds so sure. You want to believe him. But is it safe? Puppet Master's manipulate the soul. His strangely soothing presence could be a result of that. You nod quietly. Did you have anywhere to go? You had no friends, your family wasn't an option, and Wriothesley was the only one with his arms open to you. Did you have a choice?

Yes. You told yourself. Of course, I have a choice. It's just a bad one. Truthfully, you only had one choice to survive. Despite your prior thoughts on the matter you weren't willing to actively choose demise, it had to take you itself.

--

"... I have a way to guarantee your safety, but it means giving up your freedom," Wriothesley tells you. His voice is softer than usual, and his eyes look tired. You falter.

"That is the only way. That is what you mean." You mutter, biting your lip. Did you have freedom? Was that a right you felt was worth the risk? You close your eyes and think. The creeping shadows and cold touch creep through your thoughts, scrapping at your mind and digging into you. You stop breathing for a moment before opening your eyes. The world is slightly blurred and you feel unsteady. You came to a decision. Wriothesley was generous compared to his rumors. You knew that the safest option was to be near him in this house. It still felt suffocating, but you knew it was the right choice.

"I'm sorry that this is the choice I can offer you. A binding to this place." What you didn't know was that Wriothesley's heart was racing. His lips had shifted into a subtle smile covered by a thoughtful cup of tea.

"I ... accept. So tell me what to do." Your voice shakes despite your wishes to sound confident. Wriothesley doesn't comment on this, instead he asks you to close your eyes and hold out your hand. There was no other option, so you did as he said. It was only when the whispers of a curse settled in that you understood what he had done. He had given you the same curse he bears. This curse was cold, like steel cuffs clinging to your wrists.

"Don't cry, I'll protect you." Were you crying? The hot tears fall down your cheeks, falling pleasantly into the hungry carpet beneath you. Wriothesley sounds happier than normal, but maybe you're mistaking his kind consolation as something more. He offered you a hug, a gesture you were not well acquainted with. Maybe that is what drew you to it, why you accept his arms so willingly around your smaller frame. His breath tickles your ear as he whispers gentle consolation. His breath feels strangely cold, but not unpleasant.

"I will make sure no one takes you away carelessly." His words were surely meant to be sweet. You knew he was trying to be kind. You just felt a strange sense of sickness twist in your stomach.

...

...

--

"I don't take kindly to false promises Wriothesley."

"I did not lie, you have done well to aid me. In return, here are the artifacts you wanted. You may do as you please with them according to our deal."

"I'm sure you'll need my help again soon. You know how to contact me."

"Of course, Doctor, I hope you weren't too bored. You even sent a puppet alone."

"Minor Mimicry. You know that 'minor' mimicry doesn't exist don't you?"

"Of course I do."

...

...

[yo-yo-yeonkai]

PAGES OF OUR YOUTH - CHOI YEONJUN - SFW

Choi Yeonjun x Fem!reader

Genre: Fluff

Warning list: Childhood bestie! Yeonjun, non-idol AU!, a slow burn, possessiveness, misunderstanding, they are both so clueless it hurts, underage drinking, alcohol, parties, swears, not proofread entirely, let me know if I missed any,

Word count: 14,070

Summary: You both kept dairies growing up and reading them now shows the desperate yet beautiful love story you had… who knew two people could view things so differently.

A/N: All of (Y/N)'s writing will be in italics with a pink date, whilst Yeonjun's will have a blue date, Anything their daughter says or is current time will be in bold

Extra: I’m sorry this is so long… it is interesting though, I promise!!!!

Happy Birthday Yeonjun <3

Fuck it was dusty up here, how dare Dad send her up here, she was practically choking on the air. Smelled old…like him, she laughed at her own jokes and kept searching for it. Why did she have to ask dumb questions….

A few days ago, she asked ‘’some parents have a box of their child’s things, do you have one for me?’’, and to that, her dad said, ‘’yeah, if you want it, it’s in the attic with a pink lid, it has your name on it. it’s easy to find’’.

Her dad offered to go and get it at that point, but she said no. God how she wished she’d said yes... this was unbearable.

It was clean up here but somehow dusty as fuck, the light shone over all the specs, and she could clearly tell which things had been moved more recently than others. She found the box, among other boxes. One said her mum’s name and one her dad’s name… cool they have childhood boxes too…

Let's see how ugly they were as children!

But what met her was much more confusing, it was a letter, from her mum to her dad, it was in her dad’s box. And the next one was, and each one had a date…

Oooo, what if she was to line them all up in timeline order? She was going to… because she was curious! But first, she had to clean this room and get her bean bag up here. That is how the 18-year-old dove into her parent's memories, not so accidentally finding out all about their relationship.

Once each note or letter was lined up in the folder of a book, and she acquired her parent's childhood diaries from the bottom of their boxes, she began flicking through them.

2005, September, 5

School today! It was okay. Beth tried to take my snack. She is mean! The teacher told her off. Mum says good. So do I. New boy in school. He wasn’t here last time. Where did he come from? I don’t remember his name. he looked weird.

2005, September, 5

School started. It was a new one. I don’t like it. nobody spoke to me. This girl got a bully told off. That was cool. I think her name was (Y/N). She seemed smart.

2005, September, 7

New boy lives next door! Mum made me say hello. I said no. but she never hears me. She must not like me. I love my mum. She must hate me. I feel sad. I still don’t know his name. he didn’t say hello. He must hate me. Now I’m sadder.

2005, September, 7

(Y/N) is my neighbour. She came over with her parents. I got scared because she is cool. She said hi. I didn’t. I’m mean. She probably thinks I’m stupid.

2005, October, 16

Mum keeps making me go to his house. I don’t want to speak. Not to him. He looks at me weird. He must hate me to the max. Mum says no. She is a liar. His parents are nice. Not as good as mine. Good. My mum and his mum are friends. Just like me and Hana. Good. Mum should have friends as well.

2005, October, 21

They keep coming to my home. Mum and Dad say it is because we are friends. I didn’t know. Me and her are friends? ok.

2005, November, 19

New boy stayed in his room when we came over. His mum said he was sick. She lied. I could hear him singing. It was good. I like singing too. Maybe we can be friends. I’m bad at singing. He will think I suck. We can’t be friends.

2005, November, 19

They are at my house now. I locked myself in my room. Mum told me to come out or (Y/N) wouldn’t want to be my friend. I don’t care. She scares me. She is quiet at school but loud with her parents. She must be a transformer or something weird. I’ll block her out with my singing.

2005, December, 17

Nearly Christmas! So excited! Mum told me to give Yeonjoon something. I asked Mum his name. I had to write it on a card. He is Yeonjoon. I don’t know what to get him. We aren’t even friends. He is just a weirdo. Maybe he’d like a rock as well? Do all kids like them? Hana doesn’t. But I do! Yeonjoon probably won’t.

2005, December, 21

Christmas. I can’t wait to get new toys. Dad made me sign a card for (Y/N). ok. Mum said I should pick her a flower for Christmas. There are no flowers around. I looked. Mum must have meant it as a joke. I should’ve laughed instead of being serious.

2005, December, 25

Yeonjoon’s family is coming over today. I don’t want them to. This day is meant to be for my family! Not other families. Mum says I should spend time with people I like. I told her I didn’t like him. She told me that was mean. Oh well. I must go now. The doorbell is ringing.

I’m back. I showed Yeonjoon Yeonjun my rocks, he didn’t care. I knew I shouldn’t have offered him one. He took it anyway. It was the small one, named Sam. I liked that one. I hope he doesn’t lose it.

2005, December, 25

Christmas today. I just opened all my presents. I got so many cool things. Mum told me to get ready because we are going to (Y/N)’s house after lunch. I decided not to fight it. Today should be happy. So I will be.

I’m home. We went to (Y/N)’s house. Food was yummy. (Y/N) spelt my name wrong on the card, so I corrected her. She seemed sad. I was sad she spelt it wrong. I got hers right.

We went to her room to play. She collects rocks. That’s not normal. She gave me one as a gift. It was weird but I picked one. The smallest one so she wouldn’t get sad. She called it Small Sam. It was funny that it had a name. I’ll keep him in my bedside table, so I don’t lose it. first Christmas gift I got from a friend.

2006, January, 29

I know Yeonjun lost Sam, he’s not in Yeonjun’s room. my small rock baby died. Because of Yeon-poop-jun. I hate him.

2006, January, 29

She was mad today. She was looking all around my room. I asked her what she wanted. She said she was only looking. Weird girl. It was kind of funny. I hope she wasn’t judging.

2006, April, 2

Yeonjun came over again today, he brought Sam. We played with rocks. He even went to the garden and found his own rock. Why is he nice? I’m sorry Yeonjun for thinking you killed Sam. I’m glad you like rocks as well.

2006, April, 2

I went to (Y/N)’s house because I was bored. Mum told me I should see if she wanted to play. So I brought Small Sam because I know she likes rocks. She was happy. We played rocks. She had more rocks to play with than me. I went to her garden and found my own one. I named him Gerard. Seemed right. I had fun even though they were rocks.

2006, June, 14

I had a thought when I was playing with Gerard and Sam. What if (Y/N) is poor and has no money for toys? That would be sad. I told Mum we should get her something. She said no. That (Y/N) had toys. She just likes rocks. Odd.

2006 July, 22

I have nobody to play with apart from Poop-Jun. Summer is boring. I wish my friend lived as close as Yeonjun. then I could play with them. Yeonjun is boring now. He got annoyed with my rocks. I thought he liked them. If he was a rock I’d put him in the toilet and flush it.

2006, July, 22

I went to (Y/N)’s. I was trying to see if she had toys. Mum says she does. I’m not sure. I asked if we could play with something that isn’t rocks. She got sad. I didn’t mean to make her sad. I was just checking if she was poor. If she was. I’d give her a toy. She got mad that I wouldn’t play rocks and kicked me out.

2006, September, 4

I didn’t speak to Yeonjun all summer after the rock thing. I saw him in school today. He has glasses now. He looks silly. I wanted to laugh but I knew I shouldn’t. I kept my head in my book all day.

2006, September, 4

(Y/N) still seemed mad about the rocks when we went back to school. I hoped she wasn’t. I feel bad that she does. She laughed at my glasses. On purpose to get back at me. Mum said I had to keep my glasses. But I hate them now. I don’t want her people to make fun of me.

2006, October, 31

Me and Yeonjun went trick-or-treating together. It was fun. He was a pirate. I was a princess. Our mum’s made us match. We looked good. I had pink hair spray. I looked pretty.

2006, October, 31

Halloween. (Y/N) was a princess. She had pink hair. I thought only adults could have coloured hair. Her mum told me it was fake. I asked if it was a wig. She told me no and showed me it was a spray. She asked me if I wanted some. I did. I got a streak of pink. (Y/N) told me it was pretty. She called me a princess. I was a pirate. But ok.

2007, February, 9

Mum told me Yeonjun and I are two peas in a pod. What does that mean? Peas are gross. Are we gross? Maybe he is but I am not. How mean!

2007, February, 21

Mum said me and (Y/N) are like magnets that could stick together but chose not to. She explained it to me. It was confusing. Magnets have two poles. If you put opposite poles against each other they join. If you put the same poles together they push apart. Is she saying I push (Y/N) apart? Do I need to spin around? I don’t get it.

2007, May, 7

Me and Yeonjun don’t speak in school. Isn’t that weird? Are we friends? I don’t know. But every time I hear a fun song I write it down and put it in his letterbox. I hope he likes it. He likes singing.

2007, June, 29

I was walking home today and I saw a rock. I thought it looked like a heart and I thought of (Y/N). She would like that rock. So I kicked it home and left it near her front gate. Hopefully she will see it and like it. I thought it was cool.

2007, June, 30

You won't believe it! I found the cutest rock ever today. It was near my house's front gate. It looks like a heart. When I looked up I saw Yeonjun with his head out of the door watching me. I decided I’d call it Yeonjun. it seemed fitting. He shouldn’t have been watching if he didn’t want me to use his name. hehehehe!

2007, June, 30

OMG! She just picked up the rock and saw me. She smiled at me. Does she know it was me? Oh no. wait. Maybe that isn’t bad.

2007, August, 1

I heard Yeonjun singing one of the songs I suggested today. So I asked how he knew it. I hoped he didn’t know it was me. He said his parents write notes for him to suggest him songs. He says the songs are good. That’s good! Because it isn’t his parents. It’s me!

2007, August, 1

(Y/N) complimented the song I was singing today. I’ll have to thank Mum and Dad for suggesting it. she seemed happy that she knew the song. Note to self: It’s one of her favourites.

She closed the diaries and sighed, ‘’Dad, that note to self was not helpful. How am I meant to know what song was Mum’s favourite? Grandma and Nana were doing all the work, goddam. Going to have to make a few phone calls after this. God, they were so clueless back then. Dad clearly likes her!’’. The slow-burn love story was driving her crazy, but she was invested. How did her parents fall in love? This would be the perfect inspiration for her creative writing project.

She picked up the next diaries, it looked like they were in secondary school now.

2010, September, 4

Looks like me and Yeonjun are still going to the same schools, how annoying. I thought I would finally be able to escape him, but I was dreadfully wrong. Yeonjun’s mum told me about us being magnets yesterday. She is clearly crazy. Me and Yeonjun aren’t even the same creation. He is cool and talented, and I’m just me. Was she just trying to show off her son and make me feel bad? Probably not, but it worked.

2010, September, 10

Apparently, the school want us to keep diaries, so we can stay in touch with ourselves and our mental health. Bullshit if you ask me. But whatever. I like writing, but when I’m forced to like this, it makes me want to shove a pen in my eye. Same way seeing (Y/N) at school does. She’s always around me, I feel like we are joined! I just want to grab a pair of scissors and cut the thread connecting us!

WAIT…. NOOOOO! I just made myself think about the red thread of fate! Oh, fuck no! Brb, going to die.

2010, November, 13

Yeonjun is so popular at school that it hurts. I used to be the only one that knew he was talented, but now it's different. He wants the whole school to know so he can climb the social ladder. What a bitch. He’s just rubbing it in my face that I’m not cool, I’m just a nerdy quiet girl. Well, fuck him!

2010, November, 27

(Y/N) was in the library again today, I could see her as I left to go to the field. She’s always in there. Maybe I could convince her to come and play with me? I doubt it. she hates talking to me at school. Fine, whatever she wants…

2010, December, 24

Yeonjun won’t be here this Christmas, he’s gone to spend it with more family. It’s weird knowing he won’t be coming for dinner, he has been since we were 6, we are 12 now. OH, MY GOD, I’ve known him for 6 years. GROSS!

2010, December, 24

(Y/N) told me to have a nice time visiting my family when I saw her earlier, but I could see the sadness in her eyes. Maybe she feels the same way I do. I love my family but, in a way, (Y/N) and her family became part of my Christmas. We’ve spent 6 Christmases together, it will feel wrong without her, I know that much.

2010, December, 25

Christmas was great, in a way it was peaceful without Yeonjun around. But I'm not sure if I like that or not yet. It felt a little dull without him, but I still had fun. I felt really close with Mum and Dad today, it hasn’t been like this in years.

2010, December,25

It sucks here! Not even my cousins could make me feel better. I want to go back home. I should be happy… I haven’t seen my family all together like this in years. But thoughts of (Y/N) keep coming to mind, and I miss her. I hope she’s at least had a nice Christmas. I’ll call her later, so I know she isn’t bored without me.

2011, January, 1

Happy New Year! Yeonjun came last night and surprised me and my family. It was nice, so nice I forgot to write about it. I’m glad I got to speak to him in person again because his calls every evening got boring. He danced and sang a lot last night, he made all the grown-ups laugh. I wish I could bring joy to people like that. I’m jealous.

2011, January, 1

It’s the new year now. Mum told me to make a resolution. I told her I did, but I'm a stinking liar. I know I’m not going to stick to that. Perhaps I should make it something like ‘’call (Y/N) every night to annoy her’’ or maybe something useful like ‘’sign up to dance club’’. Maybe the last one is smart. I don’t like the other one, I don’t want to annoy (Y/N), she’ll only start hating me.

2011, March, 30

Yeonjun started doing dance club recently, and now he’s always late home and late places. I heard our mums talking about it. I couldn’t imagine being late for anything. He's got too much on his plate, he's out of touch with what he's capable of.

2011, April, 7

(Y/N) told me I should start being on time for things today. All because I was late to school and then late to her house after club. It’s not my fault I’m tired and busy. She’s not my mother! She’s got big boots because she does every piece of homework the day it's set and hands it in early. I must be stupid in her eyes. It’s not that I can’t do it… I just can’t time myself well.

2011, May, 18

Rumour got around at school quickly that Yeonjun finally got a detention for his tardiness. I want to say good, but I feel kind of bad. I know he works hard he just can’t organise himself. All he needs is someone to keep him on track. Maybe I’ll message him something like ‘’Do you need my help. We can Facetime and talk about the homework the night it's set, and both get it done together’’. Yeah, that seems nice, I'll message that.

Oooo, he responded. He took me up on my offer. He wants to call now so I’ll go. Time to be a hero…

2011, May, 29

Thank God for (Y/N)! ever since she started helping me, I can control myself a bit better. My homework gets handed in on time and because I’m less stressed, I sleep better, which means I wake up on time for school. She’s a blessing, isn’t she? A little time angel.

2011, July, 6

I regret saying I'd help Yeonjun. he started coming over to my house every evening so we could work on homework together. It’s better this way, but it’s annoying. He doesn’t knock! It drives me crazy. Every time I remind him knocking is a thing he says ‘’Yeah, next time’’. BUT HE NEVER DOES!! Next time I’ll hit him, I swear.

2011, July, 27

I’m so glad the school year is over and me and (Y/N) got closer. I think my New Year’s resolution worked for both ideas I had. ‘’Sign up to dance club’’, well it also did the same thing as ‘’Annoy (Y/N) more’’. Though she doesn’t seem to hate me. Cool!

She put down the book and practically slapped her head ‘’How dumb are you both?’’ she questioned sizing up the next book that seemed to be from year 11. She wonders why there are so many gaps in between. Then she remembers the thing her dad wrote about being forced to keep a diary.

2014, September, 7

School started again… unfortunately. The summer was nice this year. Me and Yeonjun hung out nearly every day. He didn’t really give me a choice, he was always barging in. No, he still hasn’t learnt how to knock. It drives me insane. I punched him in the arm last time, he only laughed like a maniac. Fucking freak.

He’s in my Maths class now, he was the set below last year. Clearly, all the studying I helped him do pay off. I’m proud of myself, and him I suppose. He sits next to me now. He passes me notes. I’ll stick them on the pages.

You look like a nerd when you concentrate, did you know that? -Yeonjun <3

As if I give a fuck, who does he think he is? Sending me notes when I was trying to concentrate like a nerd! That was not helpful Yeonjun!

2014, September, 7

WINNING! I got moved up a set! To (Y/N)’s set, which means I’m a genius by the way. She even sits next to me. That means I can cheat! Not that she’d let me… she believes strongly in hard work, and so do I. That’s why I worked so hard over the summer to get better, I don’t need perfect grades for being a musician, but getting them would be nice.

I sent her a post-it note in maths class, I don’t remember what It said but she sent one back. Why didn’t she just write on the one I gave her and hand it back?

Shut your mouth Poop-Jun, focus. Or you’ll become dumb again <3

-(Y/N)

Did she seriously call me POOP-JUN!! like a child? It’s kinda cute funny!!!!!!!!! I’ll have to make up a dumb name for her. Game on (Y/N)

2014, October, 31

I’m going to a party tonight, for the first time in my life. All because Yeonjun asked… I hate this man. I heard there would be alcohol, we aren’t old enough for alcohol. I voiced my concerns to Yeonjun, but he told me that was normal. What? I didn’t know that… underage drinking is normal. Had he drunk before? Why?

2014, October, 31

I finally convinced (Y/N) to come to the Halloween party with me. Thank fuck. Maybe I can teach her how to drink today before we get to college, and she embarrasses herself. Even if she did, I’d still like her. NOT IN A WEIRD WAY!! I just mean that I’d still be her friend!!

She sighs at her dad and mumbles ‘’I think the boy doth protest too much… nobody asked how you meant it, dad!’’

2014, November, 1

I feel like such a bad child. I need to confess that I drank last night. Not because Yeonjun told me, but because I was curious. He did offer me, but he warned me first. I heard him out but even after his lecture I still did it. he decided not to because I had, and he wasn’t sure if I could take it. Turns out I couldn’t take it that well and Yeonjun tried to take me home, I tried to tell him not to because of my parents. He already knew that though; he’s known my parents for more than half his life!!

We went to his instead and he let me sleep in his bed, he slept on the blow-up bed on his floor. It was weird having a sleepover with him, especially drunk. I remember looking off the bed and seeing him on the floor sleeping peacefully. I wished I could sleep peacefully, but the urge to throw up last night stuck like a nasty bug.

2014, November, 1

Note to self: (Y/N) absolutely can’t drink!!

God, it was so cute funny! She drank quite a lot, more than I'd expected. She seemed to have a lot of fun. But suddenly she kind of fell backwards against me. At first, I thought she was trying to put the moves on me, and I froze, but I quickly realised it was because she was drunk. She was losing control of her body. Though she protested when I tried to take her home, she eventually gave in. under one condition, not her parent's house. Did she think I was an idiot? I already knew that! I wasn’t born yesterday! Her parents might kill both of us. But my parents didn’t care… who do you think drove us home? Dad picked us up and I explained it to him. He came up with the solution of her sleeping over.

I froze once again at the thought… (Y/N), sleeping in my house? That was new! Fine, whatever. I agreed to it. I sent her parents a message on her phone so they wouldn’t suspect anything. Genius.

She was gone when I helped her into my bed, instantly collapsing. It was cu… no I won’t write that again!!!! I kept an eye on her because I didn’t want her throwing up and she looked so red… but even then, she was beau…

Never mind…

‘’NO. Dad, it was right there. You knew it. you liked her!!!! Please tell me you knew it’’ she huffed, frustrated by how her dad kept crossing out words or not finishing them.

2014, November, 10

I told my parents about my drinking; they didn’t actually care because they knew I was safe. They just wished I had come home so they could take care of me instead of me being in the house across. It nearly made me cry when my mum said that. They said at the age of 16 they would rather I didn’t unless I was at home, but that they did it when they were my age. Me and Yeonjun had clearly perceived them all wrong.

When he came flying into my house unannounced, I heard them talking to him downstairs about it so laughed upstairs until he flung my door open, something along the lines of ‘’You could’ve warned me’’ coming out of his mouth. Apparently, he was downstairs trying to fight for my life by keeping up the lie, until my parents told him I’d admitted it. all I could say was ‘’that’s what happens when you don’t ask to come over’’. He was quick to respond though ‘’You love it when I appear’’. He was wrong, I don’t love it, I only like it mildly….

2014, November, 10

How dare she?? I’ve never been more: horrified, shocked, and embarrassed all at the same time… was this revenge for taking her to the party? No… she definitely had fun, she thanked me. What did I do to deserve this? Imagine me lying my ass off to her parents, meanwhile, they know the truth, God there isn’t much worse than that. Practically broadcasting that I’m not the boy they know and love!

When I told her she should’ve warned me she was nonchalant about it all… how dare she be so calm. It annoyed me to see her like that, but it somehow calmed me down at the same time. We sat in her room all evening talking about what had happened at the party, what she actually remembered, how she talks in her sleep.

It was great until I caught her mum on the way out the door. ‘’I know you care about her, so I know you would never let something happen to her. But please don’t lie to me like that again… put some trust in me Yeonjun, and I’ll put my trust in you’’. I wasn’t sure what she meant by that, and I still don’t. it keeps circling my head, and each time I just want to know what she really meant. Easier said than done.

2014, December, 25

It’s that time of year again. Christmas. I don’t get the same joy I used to get from it now, but Yeonjun still seems thrilled by it. he just wouldn’t hang up the Facetime call last night. We fell asleep on it. I eventually drowned out the sound of him talking and drifted to sleep, but I woke to his sleeping face on my screen and panicked and hung up. It took me by surprise, I thought he would’ve hung up. Unless he accidentally fell asleep.

Even though he knew he’d see me later that day he was texting me things like ‘’GOOD MORNING’’, ‘’MERRY CHRISTMAS’’, ‘’I HAVE THE BEST GIFT FOR YOU THIS YEAR’’. Yes, Yeonjun types in all capitals, he’s on drugs I swear. This year I got him new dancing shoes with money I'd earned from my job, they were the ones he’d wanted for months… and I joined forces with his parents so we wouldn’t both get them for him. I’ll write again once he’s got them. So, I can forever replay the epic moment when he tells me I’m the best friend ever for listening to his never-ending whining.

2014, December, 25

I didn’t wake up on a call with her like I thought I would. Maybe she hung up in her sleep, or the call cut out. When she fell asleep last night to the sound of my voice, I found that so…. I found it very… very peaceful and nice! So, I stayed on call and eventually fell asleep myself. I found it comforting to do so…

Waking up without her on the call was more disheartening than I thought it might be, so I messaged her. No, I spammed her! She must think I’m stupid! She eventually answered me though. ‘’I look forward to giving you your gift! It’s so good, you’ll love it!’’. pshhhh, she thought she had a better gift than I'd got her, she was severely wrong. I’d got her a new set of paints and brushes, the expensive ones she said were out of her reach. She loves painting… and I love looking at her paint.

"Dad you are driving me crazy here, just admit it to yourself’’.

2014, December, 26

Yesterday was crazy! Yeonjun’s family came over and we did gifts like normal. Yeonjun got me the paints I wanted!! I was so glad he listened to my groans and used his brain to get me them. I have no clue where he got all that money, and it made me feel bad thinking about how he’d spent it all on me… but I did the same, so I suppose it’s fair. The best bit was, he gave me a tiny painted rock he’d apparently painted when he was sat with me in the art rooms at school. I didn’t even see him! Crazy! I think I want to start painting rocks now, I have so many I might as well.

But when things got serious is when our parents invited us to drink with them and play board games. Imagine me and Yeonjun on a team playing games against adults that were only tipsy. Ridiculous. We played Monopoly and I kept stealing Yeonjun’s money, he didn’t know though. He seemed clueless every time he picked up his money to pay ‘’where did I spend my money’’ he’d whine, a stupid pout on his lips. I’d then make up a story on how he’d spent it on his way around the board. He fell for it every time… nice!

2014, December, 26

OMG!!!! (Y/N) GOT ME THE DANCE SHOES I WANTED!!!! She must be rich to have afforded these! They are so comfortable and feel so nice when I dance. She knows me so well…. She is such a great listener. I only mentioned these once, I think…

We ended up drinking all together with our parents it was hilarious because she was so gone. I drank a little extra to keep up with her, but I couldn’t help but laugh every time I looked down at her pink-flushed face… she truly sucked at drinking. We were on the same team for charades, and she was awful at showing words, but great at guessing them. I couldn’t help but laugh at her terrible impression of a reindeer, she tried so hard. It was so cute. We played Monopoly all together and she kept stealing my money, she thought I didn’t know, but I did. She even watched me watch her take a piece and she still seemed convinced I didn’t know. I’d let her win today; it was too FUNNY not to.

2015, January, 19

Yeonjun kept sliding me notes. Now I have a collection of them… here.

Is the answer to question a x=6?

Yeonjun ;P

By the way, the answer was not 6. Yes, I did help him. I’m not a demon.

The boy in front of us has a sticker on his back!!!! HAHAHA

Yeonjun XD

I heard Yeonjun laugh to himself as he: one, realised our classmate had a sticker on his back, two wrote the note, three as he handed it to me, four as I read it, and five, looked at the boy's back. Yes, there was a sticker… was it funny, maybe a little. But he was distracting me.

Do you think I’m sexy?

YES OR YES    no

Sexy man Yeonjun ;D

When I received it, I crossed out his options with a laugh and showed him my new options. He pouted at me and acted like a stroppy baby for the rest of the class, how annoying.

Don’t cha wish your girlfriend was hot like me?

(Y/N) … Don’t ignore this! Write the next lyric. I know you know it!

Don’t you wish your girlfriend was a freak like me?

DON’T CHA!!!!!!!!!

Well done

That one I nearly didn’t write the lyric because I was trying to focus. But it became more distracting to not answer him than to answer him. I discovered Yeonjun gives up faster if I just respond to him. It was also a note I nearly got confiscated from my desk, had Yeonjun not snatched it up before our teacher could see it. I’m glad he did.

Can I come over today?

Yeonjun <3

You always come over…

Yes, but I was asking because I’m nice.

No, you are asking because you are bored, can you please just focus on the lesson.

Only because you asked <3

That one was prime craziness and I snatched it up when the sight of a heart met my eyes. How could he be joking so shamelessly?

2015, January, 20

IT’S THE WORST DAY OF MY LIFE! I got moved away from (Y/N) in maths!!! The teacher said we talk too much… I’m sorry but have you ever seen her mouth move for a fun conversation… no! She’s only ever explained things to me!! What is this hate that’s being slung our way! I’m pissed! There goes any fun I’ve ever had in school! Now all that’s left is cute notes she gave me!! I’m in my feelings!! I’ll stick the memories of our fun times together down below.

Yeonjun breath quieter, it’s too loud :)

Annoyed (Y/N)

The answer is 3 not 6!!

Smart (Y/N)

Our teacher is wrong the answer is actually 23. I have no clue how he got 24…

Confused (Y/N)

Can we get snacks before we head home?

Hungry (Y/N)

Is my hair flat at the back? I feel a bump…

Curious (Y/N)

2015, January, 23

Yeonjun got moved back next to me, good because he was whining about it so much, I thought I’d have to cut off my own ears. When I walked in and saw him sat down, I was glad the whining would be over. I knew he’d be all right without me, he is smart, but he seemed to want to cling to me. He needs to grow some self-confidence. 

2015, January, 23

THANK THE LORD THAT ME AND (Y/N) SIT NEXT TO EACH OTHER AGAIN!!!! Apparently, it was only for that one lesson, so when I went into the classroom early begging to sit next to her because she helps me, I was just embarrassing myself. Ughhh, the things I do for her happiness. I just knew she wouldn’t be able to handle being apart from me. The look on her face, when she saw me sitting in my normal seat, said it all. She was obviously in love with me!!!

"God no mum! He wanted to stay near you because he likessss you’’ She slapped the words in the diary, now annoyed by her clueless mother as well as her father.

2015, February, 9

Me and Yeonjun keep talking about college and what we want to do in the future. We both seem as clueless as each other so we spend days in my room googling colleges, and the courses they have. Half the problem is… we don’t really want to go our separate ways. I may get annoyed by him, but Yeonjun has been my friend for 10 years, and for all of that we’ve gone to the same school. I really don’t want that to change, it scares me.

What happens if I can’t make friends? I won’t even have Yeonjun to rely on!! What if I hate it and Yeonjun isn’t around to annoy me because he’s swimming in his popularity in a new school!!! Live your life, but please Yeonjun, stay near me….

2015, February, 10

Looking at colleges is so draining!! Who knew making one choice would feel so pressuring? I know what course I want to do, and the clubs don’t matter to me because I do them outside of school. So why do I find myself looking for colleges that have not only music courses but art ones as well? And why do I find myself suggesting them to (Y/N)?

She seems so stressed out whenever we are looking, so clearly, I’m just trying to help her whilst also looking for myself. Yeah, that sounds right!!!!! Every time we scoot closer together to look at her laptop, the screen lit up with college, I notice it, the look in her eyes. She’s scared, and I don’t know what to say. Life is moving on and I don’t think she’s prepared. She’s been focusing so much on this year that I honestly don’t think she ever thought past it. and now, as she’s trying to revise for her final exams in a few months’ time, she has to make decisions. Ones she’s not ready to make.

In the moment I often think about reaching my hand out to hold hers, maybe she would find comfort in it. but I don’t… it would be weird to her. I know that much….

‘’This is by far the worst bit I’ve read yet! Dad just do it, make a move’’.

2015, February, 17

We picked a college, and both applied, we haven’t heard back yet, but they have no reason to not accept us. I heard it's easy getting into colleges… I’m not sure if I believe it or not, but I'll hope. When we put in our applications I almost cried because I got so nervous, but Yeonjun wrapped his arm over my shoulder and dragged me into his side, the warmth almost comforting. He’s never hugged me out of the blue like that, it shocked me.

I found myself wanting him to hold me longer. I think it’s because I’ve never been hugged by anyone other than my parents, or his parents. My friends don’t hug me because they assume I don’t like to be touched. Am I to serious? I wonder what Yeonjun thinks… maybe he thinks I’m too serious and it took him this long to work up the courage to hug me. Maybe I should think about how I present myself to people.

2015, February, 17

We put in our college applications today, together. We applied for the same college as I wanted us to. She was worried because we had finally done it, made a decision. She expected to hear back instantly, I don’t know why, and when she didn’t, she got so nervous I thought she’d throw up. So, my arm moved before I could think. I hugged her!!! She didn’t run away or tell me I was gross… she calmed down slightly. Maybe she didn’t find it weird at all. I was really worried she would, that’s why I never comforted her physically. I suppose I was the one that was scared after all.

I really hope we get into the same college; I don’t really know what it would be like without her. No matter where I go, she’s always been there… not really, I could list places she hasn’t been that I have… shut up Yeonjun….

I just want her by my side for a while longer. Is that a crime? If it’s not, why do I feel like it is?

2015, April, 14

We have spent so much time revising, I feel like I have no time for anything else. I don’t know how Yeonjun does it… he does clubs, school, revision and hangs out with his friends. I’m sure he’s awake 24/7, that would make sense. But he never looks tired. He always looks so awake, like every day is day he will love, even though he’s been living this life for months.

I have his timetable because I’m the one that organises his life… this isn’t a friend’s package… I’m doing too much. But someone has to, he has no one else that will... all this happened because I offered my help a few years ago, oh the butterfly effect, you’ve got me now.

2015, April, 19

ALL I DO IS REVISE!!! It’s so astronomically boring. Yeah, that was a big word, (Y/N) says it’s the word of the day. She says I should try using them, so boom!! Too bad she’ll never see the proof… I’ll have to use the word in her face later when I go to her house. Maybe I should say ‘’You are astronomically smart, I’m grateful for you’’…. EW, too mushy for me. I'd only say that to a girl I liked, and I DON’T like (Y/N)!!!

2015, May, 9

I had my first exam today… I’m so nervous. I think it went well, but I heard that means I did badly. I really hope I didn’t do badly. I haven’t tried my whole life to fail now. Come on (Y/N), only a little longer left. Time to get back to revising for my next test, its tomorrow, I’m wasting time.

2015, May, 9

Sat my maths exam today. It went well, I’m very happy. I sit my English one tomorrow, I’m not confident. (Y/N) is on Facetime right now trying to drill quotes into our head, I’m trying to listen, but I just can’t focus. That’s why I’m writing my mind on this page so hopefully I can listen to her again.

Why is it that every time I look at her on the screen stressing about the exam that I want to hug her, tell her it will be okay. At first, I thought I was just an amazing friend, and I wanted to help her. But the thought won’t leave me alone. I’m so close to marching over to her house and holding her until she tells me she feels okay.

I should listen to her again now, or she will get mad. That would only make things worse…. Good luck me!

2015, May, 23

I had my art exam today and I painted Yeonjun. I spent the whole day in a room painting his portrait… when I asked him to be my reference for art, he was okay with that, I think that’s because he’s confident in himself, I’m not. I’m jealous of him and his stupid face, which I can now say for sure, is very even. I spent the whole day painting it!!! I would know!!! I'd never focused much on his face when I was painting before, I could just kind of paint it, like it was the easiest thing. But today I was so careful that I was measuring. I couldn’t afford a mistake on this exam; I needed the perfect grade… I hope Yeonjun never sees that painting because honestly, I think I painted him too well. His ego may shoot, and I wouldn’t be able to stand that.

2015, May, 23

(Y/N) spent the entire day painting me, and when I waited for her by the classroom, I could see her through the glass. She looked like she was being careful, each stroke was controlled. I couldn’t see the canvas because it had its back to me, but I could see her. She had paint smudged on her nose and cheeks, clearly shed brushed it onto herself by accident. Why did my heart flutter at the sight of her? That wasn’t meant to happen…

A teacher saw me waiting and spoke to me ‘’Ah, Mr Choi? The one (Y/N) is always painting?’’. Did she speak about me to her teachers? He seemed to know about me… it was odd. I responded to him regardless ‘’Yes sir, that’s me. How do you know?’’. The teacher laughed at me and patted my back ‘’Word gets around… she paints you, and what do you photograph in your photography work?’’. He was teasing me!!!! How dare he!!! He already knew the answer… I photograph her. She just makes the perfect subject; she doesn’t need to pose. I can take a picture of her when she’s being moody and ignoring me and it comes out perfectly. Does she know I do this? No. if she found out would she hate me? Yes. She doesn’t like the way she looks… how sad… I think she looks perfect incredible… FINE. She looks absolutely normal, not bad…

2015, June, 20

I finally finished school, I'm not sure how I feel. I got accepted to the college me and Yeonjun wanted, and he did as well. We have the whole summer to do what? I have nothing to keep me busy now, maybe other than Yeonjun and work. I thought I’d be more excited to have an early summer. But instead, I realised I’m boring. What do I do with my days? All I do is wait for Yeonjun to finish living his life and then come around my house. When college starts, I need to make some friends, that aren’t Yeonjun!!!

2015, June, 23

THANK YOU, LORD!! TORTURE IS FINALLY OVER!! All exams are done, I got into the college I wanted, my friends still want to hang out with me!!! I’ve spent my days practically living at dance club, or my friends’ houses. Me and Soobin are curious how long I can live at his house without my mum telling me to come home. So far, we are at 3 days. In these days I haven’t seen (Y/N) and the only messages she sends me are ‘’Why didn’t you come over today?’’, ‘’You didn’t come over again today’’, ‘’Are you dead. You come to my house every day. This is the third day’’. Surely, she has things she can be doing, why is she so worried about me. It’s probably best I keep my distance, for my own good. She won’t mind, in fact, she’ll probably like it…

2015, June, 30

He still hasn’t come over… what is his problem??? I stopped messaging a few days ago. He never tells me where he is or what he’s doing, he just sends me a message saying ‘’not today, watch a movie or something’’. I don’t like watching movies alone… I thought he knew that. Why is he being mean?? I thought we got past that years ago… is it because of college? Is he scared? Well so am I!! I wanted him by my side… I guess not. Maybe I had the wrong idea about us…

2015, July, 3

I finally returned home because my mum told me to. She knew I was at Soobin’s because I told her, and she didn’t seem to care as long as I was safe. The only reason she told me to come home was because of (Y/N)… apparently she got so bored she came to my house to ask my mum to bake a cake with her. They did, and apparently, they had a nice time. But why in the world would she do that. Didn’t she have better things to do?

Mum told me I need to ‘be there’ for (Y/N), but I don’t get it. She seems fine so what’s the problem? I’ll go over and see her tomorrow.

2015, July, 4

Poop-Jun came over today. Stupid boy. Why did he think I’d want to hang out after he hasn’t seen me or messaged me in weeks. Did he decide I was too good for him? Am I too uncool and ugly for popular people like Yeonjun. he makes me want to slap him for being so foolish.

2015, July, 4

That didn’t go as planned. (Y/N) shouted at me and kicked her out of her house. She seems to think I don’t like her anymore; I suppose that’s what I get for trying to push us away from each other. I knew what I was doing, it was selfish. All because I can’t handle her… she doesn’t deserve this. I’m sorry (Y/N), I’ll make it up to you.

2015, July, 18

Yeonjun wouldn’t leave me alone, so we are friends again. He would just appear every day and try and get me to hang out with him. Hed refuse to leave unless we did something. At first, he’d settle for a conversation, then he wanted to hang out for an hour minimum, then he’d want to watch a movie, then go shopping, next thing I knew I’d fallen into his trap. I forgave him. I feel like I wasted my summer being lonely and mad at Yeonjun, is this seriously what my life has boiled down to?

2015, July, 20

We are finally friends again, she told me to come over tonight. I DIDN’T HAVE TO JUST ARRIVE, SHE TOLD ME TO COME OVER. She has never in her life done that. Breaking news if you ask me.

I think her parents invited me around for dinner really, but oh well, I’ll take what I can get.

I hope I can spend the rest of the summer making her happy, she’s started laughing with and at me again recently, I’ve never been happier to hear a sound in my life.

2015, August, 28

Me and Yeonjun have officially enrolled in college, we’ve gone to all the events and met people at induction. Someone even approached me to have a conversation, that was nice. At first, I thought she wanted to speak to Yeonjun, that’s what normally happens, but she didn’t. she told me I had a nice outfit and asked me what I’d be studying. We spoke for a while. Turned out she was a fashion and design student. She asked for my number and jokingly saved it as ‘my future model’. It was really flattering for a pretty girl to say I was model worthy, especially when I’ve never heard a compliment like that from anyone other than my parents.

I’m starting to think college won’t be so bad after all, I think I’m excited now.

2015, August, 28

I don’t want to be that friend… but that girl was hardcore flirting with (Y/N) …. IN FRONT OF ME!!!! How absurd!!!

‘’your outfit is so stylish and looks so pretty, just like you. Wow you should be a model’’!

HAHA

I already knew all these things! (Y/N) is my model… please find your own. I wanted to pull (Y/N) away from her so badly. Why couldn’t I be happy that she was making friends? I want to be, but I can’t. I don’t want to go to college anymore. The world is going to discover (Y/N), and she seems ready this time… she won’t just sit in the library…. Fuck.

Her mum’s diary cuts off there and turns into letters she wrote to herself and Yeonjun, but she never sent them to him, meanwhile his stays as a diary. It’s a good thing her mum dated each one or the story would have to end here.

2015, September, 1

Dear me,

Today was the first day of college. My stomach is knotted with anxiety. I’ll make friends won’t i? I became friends with Layla over the holiday. She’s so interesting, fun and so cool, she reminds me of Yeonjun. She’s such an it girl! Yeonjun says my outfits are cooler since I started hanging out with her. If they are better, why does he seem frustrated? Odd boy.

Class was excellent, I spent the lesson talking about art with people who love art. I found out artistic people are weird, just like me! Yeonjun seemed disgusted by the idea of a room full of Me, rude!

Yeonjun already has a following. I didn’t recognise any people from secondary. He’s already part of a big group. He ask if I’d like to sit with them, but I said I’d rather sit with Layla. He seemed disappointed, but oh well. I’m not like him, I don’t thrive in big groups, i feel most comfortable with a few close friends.

Layla always wants to talk about Yeonjun? Does she have a crush on him?! That would be kinda gross! Why would girls be attracted to him? He’s… Poop-Jun after all.

I have a few questions for myself next month…

Is Yeonjun popular yet?

Does Layla have a crush on Yeonjun?

Have you made more friends?

Do you like your art course?

Did you and Layla go shopping like you planned?

Do you hate it here?

Are… you and Yeonjun still friends?

2015, September, 1

First day of school was easy peasy. I loved having to do nothing but what I love doing. The only thing I don’t love is Layla, she’s been hogging (Y/N), and she knows it. Me and her have beef, seriously. She has been hanging out with (Y/N) ever since they met, and when they aren’t hanging out, they are messaging. (Y/N) says Layla reminds her of me… personally I've never wanted to throw up more. She has nowhere near as much style as I do, and she clings to (Y/N) unreasonably. I have my reasons!!! She’s been my best friend since we were 6, be for real!!!! Me and her AREN’T the same!!

2015, October, 1

Dear future me,

I’ve officially been in college for one month. Let me answer the questions of the previous letter…

Of course, Yeonjun is popular now! Everyone who knows him, loves him. I’ve decided to avoid him in the halls, so I don’t have to deal with the mess that is people saying hi to him or crowding him.

Does Layla have a crush on Yeonjun? It appears not. Since I stopped hanging out with him at school she’s stopped discussing him. That’s good, I don’t want her to like Yeonjun. I refuse to have my friends dating!!!

Yes! I have made friends! Layla and I are in a group of roughly 8, which seemed large in the beginning, but it’s not. Some are friends she brought to the group, and others are friends I made. We are all really creative and it's exciting! We inspire each other to be more imaginative!!

I love my art course; all I do is talk, learn about, and create art! It’s my dream course. It is intricate and sometimes difficult work, but I’m willing to invest into it because I love it.

Layla and I recently went shopping with the rest of our friends. We got the train to the nearest city, with new shops, it was so thrilling. I’ve never done something like that before, it was exciting, trying new styles, chatting! Yeonjun saw the pictures all over my social media. He was jealous we didn’t do things like that. But he hasn’t ever ask…

Nope, I don’t hate it at college. And why would I?! I can leave the college on my breaks, can GO TO THE TOILET WHEN I WANT, I feel like the master of my destiny!

Yes, Yeonjun does speak to me. He will run past me in the corridors sometimes and shout a greeting, but then he’s gone like lightning. We will sometimes sit together if we are both on break and I’m not with my friends. He loves looking at my artwork, especially since I often draw and paint him. It’s definitely strokes that ego…

2015, October, 28

There is a party for Halloween, and I didn’t even have to convince (Y/N) to go, because guess what, Layla and her are going!! They will even be matching!! I saw her outfit, she’s an angel, and Layla will be a devil. How basic… (Y/N) pulled it off though. She looked incredible; I can’t even lie this time. When she showed me, I thought she was beautiful, and I just couldn’t believe that she’s the girl that collected rocks…

Wait… if I thought she was beautiful and I’m her best friend, what will other guys think? No! No, this can’t happen. I can’t have them looking at her, I have to come up with a plan. Hopefully she’ll get drunk and return to my side, she does that when she’s drunk.

2015, November, 1

Dear future me,

Never drink that much again. I think I spilt my drink on this random girl, and I remember her crying? Yeonjun said he helped her out though… What does that even mean?! Wait… did he lose his jacket last night? He gave her his jacket, didn’t he!! That was a cool jacket, how dare he waste it on fixing my mistakes!

I don’t remember how I found Yeonjun, I was with Layla at first. But it reached a point where I just couldn’t keep up and I needed to find familiarity. I think I saw him standing near the fish tank, talking to four guys. I’m not sure how many, it’s blurry in my memory. Omg, memories keep bobbing up like apples. I remember falling against one of his friends and Yeonjun clutching me towards him. He said something to his friends and held me against his chest as he finished his conversation, his heart beat was comforting. I remember mumbling sorry for interrupting.

after he sobered me up a little, he took me home. I remember he helped me to my bed and tucked me in. He whispered ‘’good night’’ before he left… how embarrassing!

2015, November, 1

Why is it always the Halloween parties? God, she looked so perfect… I thought I couldn’t breathe when I saw her dancing with her friends in the corner of my eye. My friends didn’t even wait to make fun of me, they knew what was up. ‘’Yeonjun, she won’t disappear. You can look away from her’’. I knew that I could, but I didn’t want to. If I did would someone take her from me? I did though, I looked away and left her. I even moved room so I could have my own fun.

She took me by surprise when she came over to me, tripping over her feet and falling against my friend, who caught her in his arms and smiled down at her. Oh, hell no, not those two. Anyone but him (Y/N), please…

I grabbed her from his arms and held her against my chest, my hand rested on her lower back and her head pushed against me. There was no way we didn’t look like a clingy couple like this… but it was fine, just for tonight.

‘’You didn’t need to snatch her from me mate. I know she’s yours’’. That’s what he said, and I scoffed at him and asked what he meant. He told me ‘’We all know you like her, so we won’t touch her… everyone knows’’. He was being ridiculous, ‘’I don’t like her’’ I told him. And he said the worst thing I could’ve imagined ‘’Well, in that case, I’ll ask her out on a date. She’s too pretty to pass up’’. I laughed at his joke because it must have been one right. No way he’d say that to me, her best friend, seriously right…

When I got her home, she was clinging to me, and once I peeled her off and got her in bed. She asked me to stay and hold her. I thought about it, but I knew what the right decision was. I didn’t respond to her, I tucked her covers over her and told her goodnight. Why is it always Halloween?

2015, December, 1

Dear me,

Yeonjun has been annoying recently. He keeps running past me at college and ruffling my hair or scaring me. It's so annoying, especially when he messes up my hair because it’s always when I made an extra effort. Can’t he just keep his hands to himself? How annoying! Sorry, I’ve said annoying one too many times, clearly thinking about it makes me so frustrated I repeat myself!

And do you know what’s worse, when I shout at him after he’s finished, and in response guess what he does… he spins as he runs and winks, then he continues running out of view. That man! How dare he be so careless… I hope he runs into a wall one day!!

Art classes aren’t as much fun now, it’s already starting to feel like a chore, so I need to find something interesting to do for my project this year or I’ll get bored. Please future me, please… save me from tedium…

2015, December, 11

(Y/N) is only getting prettier and making my heart flutter endlessly. She walks down the corridors with the prettiest smile, books under her arm because they are too big for her bag, and the most beautifully curled hair. What other choice do I have? I run past her a ruffle it up so it’s not as good every time. She doesn’t need to look pretty for anyone else now, I've already seen her. Did I like her? No, of course not! I just care about her! I just don’t want other guys to like, her, doesn’t that make sense? I’m just trying to protect her…

2016, January, 1

Dear future me,

I’ve saved art for us… are you thankful? Well maybe Yeonjun did, but that isn’t important… You know how he always gives me a rock at Christmas time, a small painted rock, as testament to our childhood. Well, I’ve decided to finally start painting rocks. When I told my lecturer, she suggested I make a project out of it. I’m enjoying it immensely, and I have developed a whole plan. I have a question… did you tell Yeonjun? And did he act big-headed about assissting you with the concept? I bet he did…

Yeonjun wrote me a letter this Christmas, so I’ll put it with this one. It was simply beautiful, so emotion, it made me cry. I didn’t want him to see me teary eyed. He mentioned the magnet thing his mum would say when we were younger. I agree with him, we are magnets opposite poles attracting, and I think we are so powerful we can’t be separated.

He brought me an art easel and some canvases for at home, I was grateful. I didn’t write him a letter for Christmas, so I’m going to write him one soon and give it to him. I don’t want him to think I’m a bad friend. I think I’ll probably paint my parents, beautiful flowers, and a nearby lake that Yeonjun keeps dragging me to. I’ve drawn enough of Yeonjun that I could honestly go my whole life without ever painting him again.

Dear (Y/N),

First of all, Merry Christmas! I’m glad it’s another one together we get to add to the stack of them. How many has it been now? 11? That’s a lot… I’ve known you for more than half my life, isn’t that crazy? I hope that never changes. Can you stay by my side until we are old and wrinkly? I don’t think I want to ever stop being your friend. I don’t think I could at this point.

Recently I’ve seen you change so much, and all because we went to college. I heard people bloom at some point in their life, and I think I got to see you bloom. Do you know how incredible it was? I was scared at first, I didn't want you to get hurt and scarred by the world. I know you’ve always hidden yourself, and I was happy to protect you. But you didn’t want me to this year, did you? So, I let you bloom and now I look at you and I no longer see the girl who collected rocks as a child… I think it makes me sad in a way. I now see the girl who parties and paints, isn’t that a weird duo?

Just like us, no? When I was a child, my mum called us magnets, that were pushed the wrong way together. But now a days I think we are pushed the right way together; I think we click. Did you know it’s difficult to separate magnets, especially strong ones.

Merry Christmas (Y/N), I hope you have a lovely day!

2016, January, 15

Music classes are awesome, I made my own song recently. The lecturer says I’m above the expected level for my age, and that my song is full of emotion. Well duh, it's about her… Yeah, I did that. I can’t think of anything else but her, it’s so stupid. When she’s sat alone, I ditch my friends to sit with her, she probably wanted me to. That's what I tell myself, but who am I kidding? I desperately wanted to talk to her. Please save me, I can’t do this anymore.

2016, February, 1

Dear me,

I told Yeonjun about my idea when he saw it. I stayed in class later than I had to, so I could focus on my project, when he came to find me. He sat down next to me, chin in his hand, and asked why I was painting rocks. He shuffled through the notes and sketches I had on the desk. It didn’t take him long to realise, so I explained my plan.

My project is to bring colour back to my otherwise dull world. Nature is intrinsically beautiful, and I love capturing it any way I can. By decorating the rocks and placing them back where they belong, I add a bit of my beauty to the world. The plan is to distribute the rocks to my favourite places once I’m done with the project. I'll then paint some of the rocks in their location, for the final piece.

To answer my own questions. No Yeonjun didn’t get a big head like you thought he would, he seemed really joyful. In fact, he took me for ice cream when he found out… how odd. But I had fun.

2016, February, 14

I want to throw up. It’s Valentine’s Day, and MY FRIEND gave (Y/N) roses. I saw him do it. She was sitting there, pretty pink dress on because she wanted to wear a romantic colour today, hair in space buns like a cutie, and he walked up to her with the flowers behind his back. It’s like everything went in slow motion and I was given the chance to stop it, but I didn’t. He spoke to her, and she smiled, then he gave her the flowers, she turned the same colour as them. He gave her a note and she smiled again, and he walked away. I didn’t take my eyes off her as she put the letter straight into her bag, not even reading it first.

When she looked up and saw me, she giggled and waved the flowers like an accomplishment. I would’ve been happy if I didn’t like her… that’s right, I have a crush on her. Now I know why they call it a crush. It’s not for a good reason, it’s because it crushes you. I thought it was because you have a crush, and when you finally get the girl, you crush the silly feelings, and it turns into love. I was wrong.

If I ever see those flowers in a vase in her room, I think I’ll throw up… there goes the plan I made for her… I'll slip it here, so I never have to look at it again.

VALENTINES DAY <3 OPERATION CRUSH

1. Buy flowers – her favourites, tulips, not roses, that’s basic - done

2. Get her favourite snacks - done!

3. Download her favourite movies onto my laptop – done!

4. Build the den – done!

5. Decorate den – done!

6. Pack your bag full of the bits you’ll need – done!

7. Get her to come with you – to be done!

8. Success – no

9. Is she your girlfriend? – never

2016, March, 1

Dear me,

Yeonjun has been clinging to me like never before. He sits with me all the time, at school, at home and when we go out. I think we are conjoined at the hip. It’s kind of funny, in a babyish way.

He’s been weird with me ever since his friend asked me out, I told him no, but we became friends. It’s weird how that works… I did try and give him a chance, but I didn’t like him that way. I didn’t even feel anything, it felt dull. I felt bad, but I told him no, not that I told Yeonjun. It isn’t his business, if I’m honest. If Layla wanted to date him, the bile would rise from my stomach. Two of my friends dating, that is just a no. Maybe I should let him know so he relaxes. Maybe then he’ll leave my side… but it’s fun having him around.

2016, March, 17

Is it possible to love being around the one that broke your heart?

Am I really in love with her?

How to tell her I love her?

That’s what my search history looks like nowadays because nobody prepares you to feel this, or how to even deal with it. growing up I couldn’t imagine loving (Y/N), it was the wildest, most far-fetched thing ever. But as I read my diaries from those days and think about how I treated and thought about her, it’s obvious, I’ve had a crush on her forever. The only reason I didn’t notice was because I thought it was the normal feeling of liking a close friend. Why did it take me so long to notice? So long that now other guys like her as well. I don’t even have a chance anymore… who would’ve thought… certainly not me… I love the one girl who has never liked me…. How sad.

2016, April, 1

My project is nearly done. As I was resting today, Yeonjun flew into my room, not even knocking, as usual. Whenever he needed someone to check his music or dance, he’d come rushing over to my house, straight into my room. ‘’Listen to it!’’ he said sitting down on my bed, to which I said the only words that I could think ‘’Knock’’, and he nodded, both of us knowing he would most definitely not knock.

I listened to it, it was delicate, so emotive, and knowing Yeonjun’s created it, was even better. It was better than that! It was perfect, stupid talented boy. As I looked at my phone, I realised I had to go, it was nearly time for the call. ‘’Yeah, it's amazing Jjunie, can you go now? I’m busy’’.

He huffed at me, as if not believing I could be busy ‘’doing fucking what, you were in bed on your phone!’’. When I told him I was going to call a friend he whined about it being our thing, so I told him it wasn’t ‘’You practically living in my house is our thing’, Now get out he’s waiting for me’’.

The mere idea of a male wanting to speak to me clearly disgusted him because he burst ‘’HE??? I THOUGHT YOU WERE ONLY FRIENDS WITH GIRLS’’. I decided then that I shouldn’t tell him it was his friend I was about to call. ‘’ I have both Yeonjun, now get out before I hit you’’. He pouted at me like a baby, ‘’Fine, I get that I’m being replaced, I’ll go’’.

I watched him leave my room, then I watched him enter his own house and his bedroom light turn on from my window. I then called his friend, and we called for a few hours. It was 11 pm when I looked back out my window and Yeonjun’s lights were off. Yeonjun’s light is always on till at least 1 a.m. What was he doing?

I didn’t do anything to upset him, did I? I didn’t do anything wrong, did I?

2016, April, 1

I’m being replaced. I didn’t know a crush could turn into something worse, is there even a verb that can describe this feeling? Maybe instead of a crush, I have a pulverize… that seems right. My heart feels pulverized. Do you want to know why?

Well because (Y/N) kicked me out of her house to call a guy. I have never been kicked out of her house because of someone else like that. Not even Layla. If they called, I'd just sit in the room. why in the world would she kick me out for a different guy?

I feel sick… is that the remnants of my heart trying to escape my body? Should I swallow it or let it out? Is there any point in keeping the slivers of it? When I looked out my window I could see her, she left her curtains wide open again, and I could see as her serious face lifted into a bright smile. She was laughing at his jokes… and all I could do was watch. Do I do this to myself?

I can’t watch anymore… I can’t feel like this again. I’ll go to the only friend I can think of…

2016, May, 1

Dear future me,

Is Yeonjun still ignoring us? He hasn’t spoken to me in school, he hasn’t come to my house… what is happening? Why is he ignoring me? I hope he has a good reason because I don’t like how this feels.

Everything is endlessly dull without him. Where is the colour I love? He made everything so much brighter, more exciting…. Did I just say that I loved the colour, and then suggest that Yeonjun was in fact the colour to my world…. Yes, I did.

Am I in love with Yeonjun?

Holy fuck, I think I love Yeonjun. is this the feeling inside of me? The warmth and light when I’m close to him and the cold dusk when I’m apart from him. Oh god, I really love him… don’t I? Fuck… how did this happen? When did this happen? This year? I’m not sure…

What am I going to do?

2016, April, 16

Is it better if I keep ignoring her? She seems ridiculously sad nowadays. She doesn’t stay in school any longer than she has to. Can I reach out and hug her? Or will she push me away. She probably will, she has other friends now.

I must be a speck of dust in the vast landscape that is her world. I float by, annoying her for a while then I get forced to move along by this force, its wind to a dust, but to me, I’m not sure. What pushed me away from her? Is it possible that by turning my back to her I pushed the same poles of our magnet together? Is it possible that I am the force that’s keeping me from her? If she turns her back as well, does that mean we click again? Maybe I should spin around and confess how I feel. But after all…. I’m just dust.

2016, May, 1

I have a plan. I’m going to get Yeonjun back and make him mine all at the same time. I can’t survive much longer away from him. This feeling is devouring me.

The next stage of my project will arrive in a few days, that’s when I put the rocks in my favourite places. There is a heart rock I found as a child, I named him Yeonjun, and I’ve painted it! Its finally time to return it to my favourite place. I’ll write a letter for him and put the rock at the bottom, buried under colourful paper.

If this doesn’t tell him how I feel I’m not really sure what will. This was the perfect idea, and it linked up so magnificently.

2016, May, 21

I’m so in love with her. You’ll never guess what she did… it was incredible. Like a scene from a movie, or a storybook. She’s so perfect.

After a long day at college, doing my final performance for my exam I came home, just to find her sitting on my bed. I hadn’t spoken to her or been to her house in months. I was so scared to talk to her that I instantly spewed out the first thing she always tells me ‘’What happened to knocking?’’. She shrugged her shoulders with a giggle ‘’I will next time’’. I knew it was a tease at me for never knocking and never learning how. ‘’touché… what brings you to my house, you prefer your house’’.

She deadpanned me at my words and spoke ‘’You don’t come over anymore’’.

‘’You don’t invite me’’, that’s what I said! Could I really not think of a better excuse!!! ‘’I’ve never had to before’’ she countered, and to that I only made up mor lies to hide my feelings ‘’I finally clicked that you didn’t want me around’’.

She huffed at me’’ why would you even think that?’’. I shrugged at her and sat down next to her, trying to peak at what was behind her back, but I couldn’t even see because it was in a box, cutely wrapped like the Christmas gifts she gives me. She stood up and spoke ‘’I’m going to leave this here. You decide if you should start coming back over to my house once you’ve seen it’’. I grabbed her hand as she tried to leave ‘’Don’t be suspicious, just tell me’’. She giggled and squeezed my hand then let go ‘’nope, it’s something you should do alone’’.

The second she was out of my door, I reached for the box and when I opened it, I saw a letter, so I read it, I’ll put it with this one, so I never lose it. once I had read it, I put my hand into the tissue and pulled out a beautifully painted rock. Fuck… she’s incredible. It wasn’t any old rock; it was the one I’d found for her when we were children and I’d sneakily given it to her. I saw her painting it a few months ago for her project, and I knew she was planning on returning them to her favourite places…. I just never knew that would be me. I thought I wanted to cry right then and there.

I knew I had to chase after her, but was straight away to soon? It might have seemed a bit desperate, but I was. My pulverise needed to leave me alone that instant and turn into never ending love for her. Like I originally thought a crush was….

I ran to her house and the second I got into her room, I pulled her into my arms, hugging her as tightly as I could now that I knew she loved me back. I told her how I felt in a single whisper ‘’ I love you too’’ and that’s when she said it back ‘’I love you Poop-Jun’’. Any other situation I’d hate the stupid name, but this time it was almost adorable, it was perfect. She knew it as well.

I asked her the question ‘’will you be my girlfriend’’… and that’s why I know have a girlfriend. Isn’t that’s awesome. The perfect girl you’ve had a crush on forever, is finally your girlfriend. Future me, please keep her happy, and stay together till you are old and wrinkly.

Dearest Yeonjun,

I’ve met many people in my life; good people and bad. No one has ever captured my heart so completely. When I look at you, you appear to glow with a glittering aura. Everything else fades into a grey background without you, as if you have stolen the colour from my world and taken it with you. I need you by my side, Yeonjun.

Those times you would run past me at college, would make heart flutters, and butterflies swirl with delight. And rage with violent anger! You make me feel so many things, but even that’s better than dull and emotionless.

I know all kinds of things about you. All different things. Like the lake you visit when you're feeling lost. You’d found it on a walk one day, and showed it to me the next. Remember? I had never expected you to come across something so captivating, but of course you had. You always make my soul shimmer.

When my eyes laid sight on the golden sun, glistening on the blue hue of the lake, I felt the familiar surge of inspiration, like a guitar melody in one of your songs. When I turned to you, you were transfixed on the lake, so peaceful, enjoying the moment. Did you realise I stole that moment, imortalising you on my page as you drifted, weightlessly into your own reality. That mere drawing is the most honest representation of you. I’ve never told you, but you are the reason I fell in love with art in the first place, I wanted a way to treasure you. Yeonjun, you are a work of art to me.

I like being with you. I try to sit next to you as much as I can. I find myself staring at you all the time. I want to always be with you. And I can’t help myself.

These special moments just between us. You are my light, shining in my world, you ease the sadness. As overwhelming as the loneliness but as soft as cherry blossom, this feeling is as strange as it is new! I guess you can only call it love.

I find myself counting the days we’ve been apart. Longing, with one wish, only to see you again. I want you, I wonder, hopeful, if you feel the same. Thoughts of you fill me, I need you beside me, always.

When I feel the loneliness will consume me, I think about the moments we’ve shared, the Christmas joy, my rocks, and your music. Years ago a beautiful heart-shaped rock greeted me at the gates of my house, and when I gazed up I saw you staring back at me. From that moment I decided I’d call the rock Yeonjun, just like Small Sam had a name. I’ve wondered all these years, if you hid the heart rock for me to find. To me, it became a symbol of our friendship, our changing relationship, our blossoming love.

For my project you know I was painting rocks to return them to my favourite places, and this one is for you, Yeonjun. Because you, and everything you mean to me, is my favourite place. Isn’t it fitting that the rock I found that day, is the rock I return to you? Please accept it, along with my heart.

I love you

“Awwwww… mum fell harder!!! That’s so sweet. He was ready to give up on her but she made the move that he couldn’t! I can’t wait to tease them about this!” Their daughter giggled, packing the pages back away where they belong. Their youth… oh how magical it was.

[ereardon]

That Summer || Part Three [Bradley Bradshaw x Reader]

A Bradley Bradshaw AU

Summary: One night during the summer you turned eighteen, you woke up to a surprise. Your father, a retired Navy Admiral, had posted bail for the son of a former colleague who was now orphaned and had gotten himself mixed up with the law. Instead of letting him get lost in the judicial system, your father signed himself up as Bradley Bradshaw’s guardian to prevent him from going to juvie. You were explicitly told to stay away from the boy in the attic room. But as the summer went on, you and Bradley struck up an unlikely friendship that turned into a forbidden relationship. Bradley tipped your world upside down, challenging everything you had once thought you knew. How could the two of you think it would end any differently than it did when your father called the cops the night he found the two of you in bed together?

Pairing: Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw x Reader 

Warnings: Cursing, angst

Wordcount: 3.2K

Series masterlist here; Part Two here; Part Four here

Texas was unlike California in every way possible. 

In California, you were free. You were what the Texas housewives would have called a wild child. You went barefoot on the boardwalk and you let your hair grow long and tangled and you had even smoked a few cigarettes before your father retired and upended everything. 

A part of you wondered if you had ever met Bradley before. Top Gun wasn’t small, but it wasn’t large either. If he was the son of another aviator, chances were you had run into him at some point. But maybe the fact that his father had died when he was so young meant Bradley and his mother were no longer part of the social circles of the Navy. 

Either way, you couldn’t shake the feeling that in another life, you might have known Bradley. That you might have known him before, when he was the boy he so desperately wanted to be, but the current situation wouldn’t allow for him to be.

You heeded your parent’s whims. For the most part.  Your mother’s less so. Your father’s to a tee. You couldn’t afford a slip up. 

That’s why there was a certain level of exhilaration when you found yourself climbing the stairs each night to Bradley’s room. The two of you would sit and talk. You were three floors away from your parent’s master bedroom on the main floor. It was the only time of day you had full privacy. 

“Tell me about the dance,” Bradley said. 

You groaned. “I’d rather eat my left foot than go, let me tell you that.” 

He chuckled. It was throaty and deep and you adored it. The more time you spent around Bradley the more you realized that if this were any other situation, if he were a guy who went to your school or someone you met in the dorms at Stanford, that you would be all over him in an instant. All of the girls would. 

But this was a different situation. He felt a little cagey, like an animal on display at the zoo. You didn’t want to spook him. You didn’t want him to feel like he owed you anything. Because the truth was, he didn’t. If anything, you owed him. He was the first person you felt like you could truly open up to. Ivy was your best friend, but talking with Bradley was different. He had depth. He knew tragedy. He was solid. 

Bradley smiled. It warmed his entire face. “Why are you doing it then?” 

You shook your head. “You’ve met my parents. This is their world. I’m just living in it. I just have to keep my head down and make it until the middle of September and then I’m gone. Back to California.” 

“Do you miss it?” he asked. 

“Every day.” You paused, looking over at him. You had gone upstairs every night for three weeks straight. Bradley had finally warmed to you. So much so that the two of you were now laying side by side on top of the covers of his bed, a light breeze wafting across the room from the oscillating fan in the corner. “Do you miss California?” you asked softly. 

You were still trying to piece together Bradley’s life. He was quiet for a moment. “Yes, and no.” 

You nudged his hand gently. “Elaborate, B. Please.” 

He smiled up at the arched wooden ceiling. “Up until a month ago, I didn’t know anything else. But the truth is, there’s nothing left there for me. There’s nothing for me anywhere.” 

Your hand found his and the two of you laid there in silence, everything that needed to be said communicated silently through your joined hands. 

Sometimes the two of you stayed up half the night talking. There was always a moment when you thought about what if you didn’t go back to your room as the light started to creep over the horizon. What if you just stayed? What would it be like to wake up with Bradley’s strong arms wrapped around your body? 

Sometimes you crept up the spiral staircase of the tower and Bradley was in the midst of a nightmare. And you would have to ease him awake gently, tell him it was OK, it was just a dream. 

Once, you had to wrap your arms around him, rocking him slowly, because it was the only thing that would make his nightmares subside. Everything melted away when you had Bradley in your arms. Suddenly, it no longer felt like such a divide between the two of you. When you were alone together in the tower room under the cover of night, you weren’t the wealthy Admiral’s daughter, bound for Stanford. The perfect girl. And he wasn’t the criminal orphan, set for a life of discontent. 

The two of you were the same. It was even ground. 

All you wanted was to help him. All you wanted was for him to know that he was not alone. 

***

You were sitting at the breakfast table, eating a fried egg on a piece of toast, drinking a cup of coffee, skimming a newspaper. Bradley sat in the seat next to you, pushing some scrambled eggs around his plate, staring out at the ocean. 

It was getting increasingly more difficult to pretend you didn’t know him, that you weren’t friends, when your parents were around. The moment they left the room, along with Louise the maid, you would turn to Bradley with a grin on your face. 

Your mother entered the kitchen, glancing over at the two of you. “Big plans for today, Y/N?” she asked. 

You set your toast down and wiped your fingertips with a napkin. “Volunteering at the animal shelter in the afternoon.” 

She nodded approvingly. “Isn’t that nice.” 

“Mother.” She turned, eyes wide. 

“Yes, dear?” 

“I was wondering, what if Bradley came with?” Both of them looked at you in shock. “I think it would be nice for the community to see him doing some volunteer work.” 

You knew how to play your mother. She was a simple woman. All she needed was to be told that by doing this, you would be building Bradley’s social qualifications. She nodded. “Well isn’t that a nice idea, Y/N.” 

She chatted for a few more minutes before excusing herself for a yoga class. You turned to Bradley once she was safely out of earshot. “So do you like dogs?” 

***

You looked over at Bradley as he scooped out a dirty blanket from the kennel into a laundry bag. Most people would be grossed out by the work you did at the animal shelter. Cleaning out cages. But then again, Bradley wasn’t most people. 

And he didn’t know that there was a surprise at the end. 

You sprayed cleaning solution into the cage and wiped down the inside of the metal box, making sure to reach every corner. 

“Doing OK?” you asked. 

Bradley looked at you. “I’m fine.” 

You watched as the muscles in his arms flexed as he reached up to clean a cage. You found yourself biting your lip and you had to turn away, blushing. 

He turned to you. “Gotta say. I didn’t expect someone like you to do a job like this.” He paused. “No offense.” 

You knew what he meant. You were prim. Proper. You were a socialite for all intents and purposes. You didn’t have many friends in your social circle who would want to get their hands dirty. Their volunteer roosters included meals on wheels, babysitting at the church, organizing bake sales. 

You picked the dirty activities. The ones nobody wanted. Cleaning kennels. Picking up trash on the beach. Cooking meals at the homeless shelter on the mainland. 

“No offense taken,” you said. “I think you underestimate me, Bradley Bradshaw.” 

He looked at you and you felt the heat of his gaze searing your skin. “I definitely have,” he whispered. 

The two of you cleaned cages for the next two hours. By the end of it you were tired and sweaty. The supervisor came in and clapped her hands. “Wow, you two have done a great job!” You smiled at her weakly. 

Bradley washed his hands in the sink by the window and turned to you. “Should we head out?” 

The supervisor raised her eyebrows. “You’re leaving now? What about recess?” 

You shook your head. “We’re staying for recess, don’t worry. We’ll meet you out there, Shana.” 

She smiled and turned, disappearing down the hallway. Bradley frowned at you. “Recess?” 

You grabbed his hand, dragging him after you. “Come on, don’t be scared.” 

“I’m not scared,” he sighed as you dragged him down the narrow hallway toward a plain gray door at the end of the hall. 

You stopped at the door, hands on the bar to release the door, and smiled. “Ready?” You pushed the door open, sun blinding you momentarily as you stepped out onto the grass behind the building. Bradley followed behind, one hand raised to cut the sun from his eyes. 

You turned to him with a grin. Once the sun shifted under a cloud he squinted, taking in his surroundings. You watched his face light up. 

Recess was your best kept secret about volunteering at the shelter. If anyone else knew, you’d never get a slot again. 

Bradley looked around, mouth pulled back in a wide grin. All around the green yard, the shelter’s dogs were running, playing, fighting, napping. Recess was the time before they went back to their kennels after adoption days. Just you and a few of the staff members. And now Bradley. 

“Hey buddy,” you said, leaning down and petting a labrador mix that was circling your legs. He panted greedily in the hot Texas sun and you smiled, crouching down and giving him a good scratch. Five more dogs ran up to you, sensing the attention, and one ran right into your leg, bumping you to the ground. You toppled over in a laugh. Bradley rushed over, eyes wide, but you looked up at him with a giggle. “Sit down!” you urged him and he took a seat next to you. A small corgi made its way over to him, plopping down in front of his crossed legs and you watched Bradley scratch the dog under its ears, his face glowing. 

The two of you pet, scratched and played fetch with the dogs for what could easily have been an hour. By the time Shana blew her whistle, you noticed the sun had shifted from high in the sky. 

You looked over at Bradley who had his hands on either side of a plump pitbull mix, whispering to it quietly with a smile before letting the dog go. The pitbull scrambled toward the far end of the fenced in field where all of the dogs were getting corralled back inside. 

He turned to you with a smile. “Wow.” 

“Right?” you said, wiping your hands on your denim shorts. “Don’t tell anyone. Or else this whole place will get overrun with junior debs trying to fill their philanthropy credits.” 

“Is that why you do it?” he asked as the two of you walked out the side gate. You waved a hand at Shana and she waved back. 

“No.” You unlocked the Jeep and slid into the driver’s seat. “Just a fringe benefit.” 

Bradley laid back. “You’re not at all what I expected.” 

“What did you expect?” 

He smirked. “Someone vapid, I guess.” 

You laughed. “Yeah, sounds about right.” “I’m sorry.” “Don’t be.” You waved one hand in the air, brushing it off. “I had to teach myself to stop caring so much about what people think of me. It’ll ruin you. That’s all people care about here. Optics. It doesn’t matter what you do or say, only if it looks good.” 

He nodded. That was the thing about Bradley. He listened. Truly listened. It was like he was storing every word you ever told him and planning to use it to write a novel. You appreciated that about him. 

The sun started to slide slowly toward the horizon. You leaned one hand out the window, letting the breeze roll off your fingertips, the silence in the car calming instead of anxiety inducing. Being with Bradley was easy. 

You found yourself wishing he would never leave. 

***

“Pumpkin, have you thought more about who your escort will be?” Your father shoved a spoonful of peas into his mouth and looked up at you expectantly. 

You sighed, taking a sip of ice water. “No.” 

He frowned. “It’s coming up. All the good ones might be spoken for soon and you’ll end up with a dud who drools while he eats.” 

“Daniel!” Your mother shot him a death glare before turning her chilling gaze to you. “Your father is right, Y/N. If you don’t choose soon then we will choose for you.” 

“What is this, 1962?” you asked. “Girl needs her parents to find her a suitor?” 

“It’s not for your lack of looks, sweetheart,” your mother said. “Think about that.”

“We want what’s best for you,” your father added. 

You grimaced. “What’s best for me is doing the dip until my ankles almost break and eating chicken picatta with some guy named Harry who thinks the only good cars are American made and who has never stepped foot outside of Texas? So I can grow up to be some kind of human incubator for the next generation of Texas inbreds?” 

Your mother practically choked on her salad. Your father sighed and took a deep sip of bourbon from the rocks glass in front of him.  

But it was Bradley’s snort that sent them over the edge. 

He tried to cover it up immediately but it was too late. Your mother’s eyes started to bulge out of her head. Your father turned his cold gaze on Bradley. “Son? Have something to say?” 

Bradley shook his head. “No, sir. Choked on a piece of carrot is all.” He waved around his fork with half of a carrot bitten off. “Sorry.” 

You turned your gaze down to your plate, unable to help the grin spreading from ear to ear. Underneath the table, Bradley’s foot knocked against yours silently. 

***

It was a full moon, soft yellow light spilling everywhere. You crept up the stairs like normal only to find Bradley already sitting up in bed, waiting for you. It went without saying. You hadn’t spent a night apart in weeks. 

He smiled. “Hey Bird.” Bradley had taken to calling you Bird. He didn’t say why, but you knew. You were a flight risk. And he knew it. 

You smirked at him. “Grab your swimsuit.” 

The water was still warm as you waded in up to your knees. You held out a hand, grabbing Bradley, pulling him in next to you. 

“Scaredy cat,” you murmured. 

He gritted his teeth. “You woke me up for this?” 

“You were already awake.”

“Oh, right.” 

You chuckled, wading in deeper until you were waist-deep, turning to look back at the house. It was dark, only the lights in the tower that the two of you had left on glowing in the distance. 

Eighty days left. Eighty more days of nighttime swims and oppressive Texas heat and having to dress up to go to the grocery store so people wouldn’t call your mother and complain that you were a slob. Eighty days until you could figure out who you really wanted to be in life. 

Eighty more days with Bradley. 

He had somehow become the best part of your day. You waited all day for the sun to sink below the horizon and for your parents to retreat to their room so you could sneak up into the attic room and talk to Bradley. He was kind. He was nice. He was lost. And you stupidly had it in your head that you could save him. 

“Bradley?” 

“Yeah?” 

You slipped further into the water, up to your chest, and he followed suit. “Where will you go from here?” you asked. “When you leave.” 

He looked up at the house. It was your fortress, your prison. 

It was all he had. And leaving it, leaving you, terrified him. 

“I don’t know,” he said softly. “Guess I have to figure it out.” 

“He can’t make you go,” you said. “I won’t let him.” 

“Bird, you can’t stop him,” Bradley said quietly. “I’m not his kid. I’m not his responsibility. I really shouldn’t even be here.” 

“But you are here,” you said. “And I don’t care what Daddy says. You’ll always have a place with us.” 

He shook his head. “You’re cute.”

You squinted. “You mean naive.” 

“You said it, not me.” 

You frowned, stepping closer. You reached out softly, dragging one finger along Bradley’s exposed shoulder, over a scar. “Who did this to you?” you whispered. Your eyes met his. “Why don’t you ever talk about what happened before you go there?” 

Bradley reached out and grabbed your hand, holding it firmly in his. Your intertwined hands were hovering between your two bodies. “Why do you want to know, Y/N? What am I to you besides the charity case your parents stashed in the attic?” You shook your head vigorously. “You’re not a charity case. You’re my friend.”

“Friend?” 

The way he said it made you ache. You had kissed boys before. Hell, you had fucked Ethan Turner the summer before on the beach. But nobody had ever made you feel the way Bradley did when his brown eyes were locked on yours. Like the entire world was at your fingertips. Like you could say the dumbest thing to ever flit through your mind and he would think its genius. 

He looked at you like he knew all of your secrets. Your desires. Your hesitations. Your fears. And he didn’t care. He knew what you were made up of. And he accepted you. 

“Bradley,” you whispered, your hand slipping out of his, crawling back to his chest, your bodies so close that only a small sliver of water separated you. 

“Bird,” he murmured. “We shouldn’t do this.” 

You shook your head. “This is the only thing I’ve ever done that feels remotely right.” 

He reached out, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear, letting his large hand fall to your neck, thumb pressing on the pulse point along your jaw. “There’s no going back from this,” he said. “I’m not good enough for you. I’m a nobody. I’m a vagrant. And you’re perfect. I'll ruin you.” 

You lifted both arms, looping them around his neck, closing the gap between your bodies so your legs were wrapped around Bradley’s waist and he groaned as you slid your hips forward across his. “Don’t say that,” you whispered. “You’re someone to me. And that’s all that matters.” And then you leaned forward, pressing your lips to his, feeling his hand tighten in your hair, dragging you closer. 

In that moment, you tied yourself to Bradley Bradshaw. 

In that moment, you left everything else behind. It was just you and Bradley and the infinite space ahead. 

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[spell-cleaver]

Portrait of an Empire

Flufftober

Day 13: Attic, Cellar, Hidden Room

Luke, like many children, enjoyed a sense of adventure. It occurred to Sheev one day that the mystery and adventure holos the boy so enjoyed might be of use to him. Secret tunnels… hidden rooms… dramatic, magical contents…

The Sith Temple was full of that stuff!

The voices of the Sith were already nipping at the corners of his mind. Get him out of here, they hissed. We will kill him—he bodes doom for us all—send him away!

“Just a little farther,” he coaxed, placing a hand on Luke’s back. Vader was on a mission in the Outer Rim, which was why he’d taken the chance, right now, to do this. “You’ll love this room.”

Luke already looked excited. “It feels like you!”

“…yes.” That had been the ongoing issue. Luke kept trying to sneak toward the Sith Temple when he couldn’t find them, because he got confused. “That is the dark side. You will learn it one day.”

This seemed to go right over Luke’s head. His eyes had landed on the door.

The temple had been long buried beneath the Jedi’s own temple, so it had taken a concerted effort from Sheev’s architects to construct access and passage to it, including a functioning turbolift. But they’d not taken away from the majesty of its surviving arched door. The keystone was dark grey, lined with red veins, and carved with sigils even Sheev only distantly recognised. Lights that switched on automatically at their approach rather detracted from the overall gloom, but still those crimson veins in the rocks of the archway and the stone that engulfed them as they stepped through… They seemed to glow.

Retreat! Now! Take the beast and flee!

The beast in question reached out to poke one of the veins. From the clamour in his head, Sheev half-expected them to squirm like worms away from his touch, but it was stone, after all. Luke just shuddered and retreated into Sheev’s hide. He hid his face in his robe.

“I don’t like it,” he whispered.

Sheev hadn’t expected that.

He bent down. “There is hidden treasure here,” he promised. “And all the mysteries of the Sith! You can find magic.”

“I can feel magic,” Luke insisted. “It’s not nice magic.” He looked around. “The temple wants to eat me.”

Sheev blinked. “Temples do not eat children.” Then he wondered at the fact that those words had actually come out of the mouth of the greatest Sith who ever lived.

We will consume his soul, the voices declared. Make him part of our chorus—yes, yes, that is the only way to avoid our fate…

“You have no power in my realm,” Sheev said.

Luke looked up at him, eyes shining. “Grandpa?”

“I will protect you,” Sheev promised him. He knelt down fully, so he was eye-to-eye with this small child. Luke really did look frail, sniffling and shrinking in on himself. “Do you trust me to protect you?”

The boy might dream of adventures. But that didn’t mean he wanted to live one just yet.

There was so much more in this temple Sheev could show him. Lost treasures, grimoires, even the skeletons of a few former acolytes. But if Luke was frightened by just the front door, none of that would help.

Luke said, “I trust you,” his voice wavering with terror. He squared his shoulders. “I can go with you.”

And the boy trusted him to protect him.

Despite himself, he would.

Sheev smiled. “It’s alright. We can go back. I didn’t know it would be so scary.”

It wasn’t what he had intended. It undercut all his plans, in fact. The Sith screamed at him: Weakness! Soft, lovelorn fool! Let us take care of this threat if you are too puny to use your own bare hands—

--and cut off as they left the temple.

Luke skipped back down the corridor, smiling again. Sheev smiled after him.

[sirtaliesin]

A running joke on Zatanna's part might have gotten a little turned around at some point. That's okay though.

Serious and not so serious gifts

Every new show Zatanna has, there’s a run of t-shirts. She saves a few from every run, most of them the largest size available. She folds them up and tucks them into a plain brown box and drops them off, her signature signed with a flourish, knowing she’ll never see them again. The boxes go into Jason Blood’s brownstone, and she knows he opens them, she’s seen him do that. Where the shirts go, she has no idea, maybe a trunk in one of his estates somewhere in Europe.

Every new show, Zatanna saves a few oversized shirts and sends them to Jason Blood. She thought it would be funny the first time. Every time after, it’s like a private joke to herself.

She sends him one of the enormous theatre posters once, and really, she can’t imagine where he’d even put it, he tells her the artist did a very fine job with the design but says nothing else about it. There is no place in his brownstone in Gotham that could really display it. It certainly wasn’t a practical thing to keep, but she knows he did anyway. Rolled up and stored away somewhere. Like so many other things he’s accumulated over the years.

Zatanna stands outside Jason’s house with a parcel wrapped in plain brown paper under her arm. Just before dawn, and no one sees her standing there in the softening shadows of Gotham. No one sees the door of Jason Blood’s brownstone open either. No one but Zatanna, who steps lightly past the man who answered.

She turns with a sunny smile and holds the plain parcel out to him.

“I know I’m about a week late, but I did want to give this to you in person.” Zatanna says, voice trailing off as she actually looks at Jason.

His hair is loose, and he’s dressed down in soft cotton pyjama bottoms and an oversized black t-shirt she hasn’t seen in seven years. Her name, emblazoned like a banner ribbon trailing from a black and white magician’s wand, stares back at her.

“You actually wear those?” Zatanna asks, disbelief colouring her tone slightly.

“Yes, they’re quite comfortable to sleep in.” Jason replies, matter of fact, as though he’d never considered doing anything else.

Jason accepts the parcel from her and gestures towards the kitchen, an unspoken invitation for tea in the early morning light hanging in the air. Zatanna follows after him, still a little surprised to find that her ongoing joke hadn’t ended up buried in an antique armoire in Scotland or forgotten in a trunk in an attic. She supposes she shouldn’t be terribly shocked. Jason always was fond of soft fabrics. It does make her wonder. Had her other jokes been taken as earnestly? She doesn’t ask. Isn’t quite certain what she’d do with the answer if he told her where that stupid poster was, and really there are places he could put it, just not in Gotham.

The two of them sit in the kitchen with mugs of warmly spiced tea perfuming the cool, still morning air, while Jason opens the parcel Zatanna had brought him. Inside, carefully nestled in a frame of velvet, is a vellum bound volume matching several already in Jason’s collection. One of the few missing from the set he’d been struggling to complete over the last few years.

Curious fingers trace the cover, noting each little imperfection gained through time and handling. Jason turns the book over, marvelling at how little wear it actually displays, and a soft smile pulls at his features. It really is in very good condition. Certainly one of the better preserved copies he’s seen.

“Happy Birthday Jase.” Zatanna says with a smile.

“Thank you dear.” Jason’s tone is as warm as the tea he’d made, relaxed and content.

Zatanna drums her fingers idly on the table, sipping at the heavily spiced tea, and then…

“So, did you keep the poster too?” She shouldn’t ask, she really shouldn’t, but damn it.

Jason blinks at her. The question registers a moment later, about the theatre poster that was taller than he was. Her surprise at seeing him in one of the shirts she’d sent him over the years colours the question. Jason remembers where it is, framed in a library in Scotland, and he laughs. The silent, squinting laugh turns into a low chuckle at Zatanna’s affronted look.

“I did.” Jason answers finally, offering no further hint at where or how.

“You know what I meant you ass.” Zatanna laughs.

“It’s not here, but if you want to see the frame I had made for it-“

“Oh my god, you actually put it up somewhere.” Zatanna drops her head on her arms, laughter shaking her shoulders.

Jason hums into his tea, knowing that sometime in the near future he’s going to have to let her see. Well, she had wanted to see the new additions to the garden he’d talked about. One more reason in a growing list he supposes.

“Did you think I’d just left it in storage somewhere?”

“Kind of, yeah.” Zatanna’s voice is muffled against her arms.

She had thought he’d just tucked it away with a thousand other things. An oddity to be revisited by accident some day, like a forgotten bookmark or a misplaced trinket. Never mind the size of the thing.

“How embarrassing is this going to be?” Zatanna slouches in her chair, chin propped up on her fist in resignation of the anticipated retaliation.

“It’s in the library dear, not the front hall.”

That…Actually does make her feel better. She really should have known better than to play jokes on Jason, at least ones that could be turned against her in some capacity. Hardly the retaliatory measure she’d braced for.

Later, when actually confronted with the stylized portrait of herself with its marquee announcement, she wonders if whoever made the frame saw it. It’s an elegant thing, carved reliefs that remind her of old theatres and heavy velvet swags, but it’s polished with a fine stain rather than gilt. Understated and without distraction. It’s sweet, and somehow that annoys her just a little. She’s still going to set aside a few shirts from the next run. Cotton wears out eventually after all, and Jason hasn’t yet.