#guess who finally decided to watch the Hateful Eight

[karlydraws]

"Ya sure about this, blondie?"

Pretty rich boy with a hired gun (by his brother)

I'm still in yeehaw fever but now in the cold

I wanted to give ww a poncho but i had to show his cleav

Alt colors under the cut!

[ophelieverse]

Oppy my baby,can you please please please take in consideration to write something about my man Cregan Stark?🥺🥺

⊹˚₊only you could have called me back home

Cregan Stark x fem!reader

-Summary:reader is from house Manderly and she meets Cregan when they are kids,during his stay at her house she reads him a book about mermaids to help him sleep during a storm.Years later he does the same thing for their children.

-I finally gave in and decided to try.This is the first time that I write for Cregan,even though i love him very much and i can’t wait to see him(I pictured in my mind Tom Taylor)so forgive me if this sucks.

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It was night,late evening.

The sky,which was usually a dark blue,was covered by a thick blanket of gray clouds that made the stars and that moon disappear,which were supposed to illuminate New Castle of White Harbor.The blue blazon with the green merman holding a trident,symbolizing House Manderly,was dancing in the wind.

A little girl,who seemed to be not older than eight years old,was observing the world and that summer storm,one of many she had seen in just a month.Sitting in her chamber,on the carpet in front of the window that brought into that small balcony,curled up and with her arms hugging her legs,she let her eyes get lost in counting the thousands of droplets that rested on that sheet of glass.

She began to stare at a drop of rain,trying to see it flow along the entire length of the window.But this one soon disappeared,bursting into smaller droplets or joining others.

For Lady Y/n Manderly,the rain made everything so fascinating.

She came closer to the glass,almost squashing her face against the door-windows and waiting for a thunder to arrive.She had never been afraid of thunderstorms,quite the contrary.She found them fascinating.She still couldn't conceive that all that noise and lights came from nature and not from something created by men.

Watching a thunderstorm was more interesting than reading a book.Her mother used to read her dozen of them to help her sleep at night,especially during storms like this one.But at the end,the books in their library all looked alike and never change final.If she didn't want to read them anymore she could just close them.While thunderstorms are unexpected and uncontrollable.But above all,always different.

People can never predict the duration or intensity of a thunderstorm.You can just try to guess or stay and observe it.And Y/n loved to see thunderstorms.

But that wasn't the case for everyone.

The little girl knew for sure that there was someone who instead hated them and had a big fear of them.A young boy,just of two years older than she was,the son of the protector of the North,had revealed that he was very afraid of storms during one.

Lord Rickon Stark had arrived to White Harbor four nights before,just in time for dinner,to discuss with Lord Desmond Manderly,Y/n father,about the union of their houses.A calm but still noisy storm was what welcomed them,alongside the blue and green blazon of New Castle.

Y/n didn't understand what was scary about those lights and noises,but she couldn't help but think about what the boy was feeling at the time.

That boy who was also her husband to be once they would be old enough to marry.They already knew each other,they had met in different occasions and places,yet they had never forged a particular bond or friendship.

Their characters were particularly different and they both knew that they would find themselves colliding easily if they became friends.Moreover, there had never been a particular opportunity to get to know each other better.They were always surrounded by their families,politicians and maidens.

They were simply two children,two heirs of big and powerful houses and one day they will become husband and wife.Nothing more,nothing less.

And yet,at that moment Y/n was just thinking.She was just thinking about Cregan.That was his name and what he had told her to call him when she had addressed him as “Lord Stark” with a polite bow.

Y/n wondered if he wasn't scared.

She remembered once,when there was a tournament in Lannisport,he didn’t showed up to see the horses in the morning when it started to rain.Once again,during a visit a the Wall he had been more restless than usual when he had heard the sound of the thunders.

But didn't the dark sky of the evening emphasize the whole thing even more?

Y/n loved night thunderstorms,she found them even more impressive.But also scary.Especially now that her mother was heavily pregnant and needed to stay in bed to rest,meaning that she couldn’t read her stories to help her sleep better.

In Y/n that fear gave a sudden adrenaline rush,but in Cregan no,she could have said it with certainty.So,after thinking about it for too long,the little girl got up,took the cloak on the chair and without even thinking anymore,she opened the window-door wide and within seconds she found herself on the balcony,while the rain was beginning to increase slowly.

That wing of the castle was where both Y/n and her brothers chambers were,the same place where young Cregan was staying,in the room right next to hers.

Y/n stayed for a while to observe the sky,and the drops of rainwater falling on the palm of her hand that she had turned upwards,fascinated by everything as a child could be.But she hadn't gone out to the balcony to admire all that,no.

If she had only wanted to do that,she would have been content to sit in front of the front door-windows as she had until then,instead of getting wet.

No,Y/n had gone out to check on Cregan.To make sure that he was alright.

Their balconies were connected,divided only by a low wall of light bricks.She had often seen the young boy on that balcony in those days,watching people occupying those crowded streets or just wanting to breathe some air.

And on those occasions they had just waved to each other politely with kind smiles.

Y/n knew that the window on that balcony led to the room where Cregan was staying.

Still in the rain,half protected by the windowsill of the upper floor,she barely reached out her neck to observe the young boy room.But it was dark and the curtains were pulled,a sign that Cregan was probably already sleeping,as he would on any night.

The little Lady wanted to call herself a fool for coming out of her room just to make sure that he was okay,a boy whose she exchanged a few words and nothing else.The same boy that one day would have been her husband but the she didn’t knew nothing about.

Yet,in some way,she was relieved.Relieved that he was not awake yet and afraid of those thunders.

A part of Y/n wanted to go back into her room and go back admiring that storm from behind the glass plate of the window,but first she got closer to the wall that separated her from her neighbor.

To,she said to herself,just to check more closely.Just to make sure.

But check what exactly?

Y/n shook her head.She really had to be out of her mind if now she was worried about an almost - stranger that seemed to not like her at all.She made to retrace her steps,when a curled figure caught her attention.

Sitting on the ground,with his shoulders leaning against the wall of that balcony and with a black cloak on him,he stood with his head hidden by the hood.Still like a statue,with his arms around his legs.Half of his body was protected under the windowsill,while the other half was being wet by that rainwater.

Y/n tilted her head to the side,confused.

“Who is that?And what are they doing?”she wondered.

Even though she knew very well who it was.It couldn't be anyone other than him.

«Cregan?»Y/n spoke without having the slightest control over her voice,attracting the attention of the boy.

Cregan raised his head,which he had kept sunk between his legs until that moment,turning his head then towards the young lady on the other side of the wall.His eyes were usually clear and calm,but now they were wide open with astonishment.

Wide in a way that Y/n couldn't but find adorable.

She ignored these thoughts and just reopened her mouth«What are you doing out here?Don't you see .. ?It's raining.»she asked with a soft tone.

“As if i hadn't noticed,Y/n”Cregan wanted to tell her with a little voice.He wouldn't have put on his cloak if he hadn't seen the rain.

But a part of him decided to keep his mouth closed.Lady Y/n was immensely pretty under the pale moonlight and wet by the rain.He had always been fascinated by her,by the way her eyes shined bright and the way she talked fast about something she liked and knew about.She made him nervous to speak whenever he was around her,she was far smarter and wiser than him even at that young age,always so kind and he was afraid to make a fool out of himself.Especially when he was still scared of thunderstorms.

Cregan didn't answer,just staring at her with his big blue eyes.

«Are you hurt?»Y/n brown furrow as she scanned his pale face to find something.

The rain kept falling and it seemed that its intensity continued to increase as the seconds passed.The trees in front of that castle moved to the right and left,driven by a force they already knew,but which they were still unable to repel.

Cregan shook his head and then spoke«I'm scared of thunderstorms.»he just said.

Y/n nodded«I know that.But why are you outside?»she offered him a kind smile.

Cregan seemed to think about it for a while, undecided whether to say everything to her or keep shut up.But there was something in her,something that was pulling in from the inside.Something that was screaming at him to tell her everything that he was afraid of,because with her it would be safe,she would have kept him safe.She would’ve understood him and comforted him.

He chose the second option and returned to stare at an indefinite point of his cloak,hoping that the young lady with wet hair and sweet eyes would soon leave,leaving him alone.As he had only been until recently.

One day Cregan would have been Lord Stark,protector of the great North and he needed to learn to not be afraid of thunderstorms on his own.But Y/n presence,the little girl that would become his wife,was louder than any thunder and brighter than any light.

In fact she had no intention of leaving.

«I'm scared of thunderstorms.»he found himself repeating and then adding«I really can't stand them.»he murmured.

She listened to him carefully,standing in front of that little wall,while Cregan continued to turn his back on her and look down as he spoke again:

«I can't sleep when there are thunderstorms.And being alone in the room,in the dark with only sudden flashes to illuminate,is scary.»he explained quietly.

Y/n nodded sympathetically,although she didn't find anything scary at all in his description.But for once she tried to put herself on Cregan side.

«So why don't you go to your father?My mother always makes me sleep with her when I have nightmares.»she asked with curiosity.

Cregan shook his head,clutching in that heavy cloak«He doesn’t want to.He say I have to overcome my fears sooner or later.»he said,with a glint of sadness in his eyes.

Y/n curled her nose,confused«And do you get over them by standing in the rain?»squeezing her hands to create a little bit of warmth.

This time he took some time to respond.

Then,shifting his gaze towards the horizon«It's less scary.I can see the lights of the villages and the boats passing by and I know I'm not the only one awake.I know I'm not alone.»he found himself admitting«It's less scary.Or at least I think…»

He didn't know why he was saying these things.Especially to her.For all his ten almost eleven years he had carried that fear of his with him without saying anything to anyone.Revealing his fear only to himself.And seeking comfort only in him.

A comfort that most of the time was not enough.

His father kept telling him that he was grown up by now,that he had to overcome his fear of thunderstorms by now.A fear that was too childish for his age.For the Lord he was destined to be.How could he protect people when he was the first to be scared?He needed to start acting like a man.

But how adult can a ten year old be?

Without meditating on his words,Y/n replied«And are you going to stay out here all night?Until the thunderstorm stops?»her angel face was worried.

Cregan just nodded,without staring at her directly in the eyes.The little girl made a grimace that the other could not see.It was the stupidest thing she had ever heard.Yet she still didn't find the strength to leave him alone.Leave him there alone and go back to her room.

Y/n had felt,she had felt for a few seconds,almost a perceptible thread that drew her to Cregan.Maybe she was just imagining everything. Maybe it was just her childish mind that was playing tricks on her.Or maybe it was just that summer storm fault.

She didn't know,but now she felt tied to the boy with the dark cloak and blue eyes.

«Come.»Y/n voice was firm and warm.

Cregan jolted,surprised to still hear the young girl voice.He thought she had returned to the heat of her room by now.And instead there she is,on the other side of the low wall,reaching out to him with a pure smile on her face.

“She’s cute when she smiles.”Cregan immediately thought,noticing her soft eyes and all her teeth shining in the light of the torches in the street.

He also found her so reassuring.That kind of safety that he desperately needed.

«Where?»he asked confused.

Y/n smiled at him again,getting closer and reaching out her hand again,almost touching his face making him shiver.

«If you spend the night out here you're going to get sick.If you don't want to be alone,I'll keep you company.»she stated fiercely and he knew nothing would’ve changed her mind.

They were simple words.Words of a child of eight,almost nine,years old.Yet Cregan swore he had never heard such beautiful words.No one had ever given him such attention and didn't know whether or not to trust that young lady.

They had met numerous times and now they were even betrothed to each other,but they weren’t exactly friends.

And Cregan was very skeptical to those he knew very little.Especially the ones that made him feel nervous just by looking at him.

He decided to refuse Y/n invitation.

But when he made to decline the offer,the first of many flashes lit up the sky,followed by a noise so loud that raised Cregan hair,or more commonly called thunder.

The boy snapped to his feet in fear.Perhaps the idea of going out,so as not to stay in the dark of his room,had not been the best.Or maybe it was the worst idea that had ever occurred to him and only now did he find it stupid.

«So?Are you coming or not?»Y/n called for his attention again,noting the thin veil of blush on his pale cheeks.

She was younger than him by only two years,yet she was still more mature than him.She had this aura surrounding her,of someone that would have took care of him.Someone he could really start to trust and lay down his strength.A little sun,personal and only for him,to remind him that the storms he was so afraid of were only temporary while she would have been by his side forever.

Cregan found himself shaking Y/n hand,who helped him climb over the wall that divided them, and in a moment he was on the other balcony.

He crossed his eyes again with those of his future wife,who immediately answered him with another sweet smile and opened the window door,to let him enter in the warmth of her room and protect him from that storm.

Immediately closed the door behind them and,after a moment of uncertainty she spoke first«Give me your cloak,i’ll put it here with mine so that tomorrow the servants can wash them.»she told him,taking her off to remain in her pink nightgown.

Cregan blushed even more as he nodded as if in a trance and took off his dark cloak,handing it over to her and revealing a pastel-colored pajamas.

He thought it was impossible for a room to look like it owner,but Y/n bedroom was just like her:a mess of colors,books everywhere and with a pleasant warmth that made him feel safe.

«Why are you still awake?»Cregan suddenly asked,trying to not move around too much.

The little girl took two pillows from her bed and a blanket,walking to the fluffy carpet in front of the old fireplace that the servants had lighted up before she went to bed,once the thunderstorm had started.

«I like to watch the storms.»she said,patting the empty space next to her with one hand«Also,now that my mother is pregnant and my father stays up with his advisors,i need to check on her.»she continues.

Cregan looked at her carefully,the long hair falling free on her shoulders,her perfect face.He was right,she so much mature than he was,already taking care of everyone around her at such a young age,just like a proper lady should.

As he took place next to her on the pavement,still keeping a proper distance between them,Cregan realized that he didn't know anything about her.But he knew how much she loved her mother as he always saw the two of them holding hands.He didn't know if she had the same relationship with her father,who seemed to prefer her older brothers,but he still didn't have enough closeness to ask her for more information.

In fact,they had absolutely no closeness and it could be seen in the silence that fell between the two children.One of those silences that always arise in similar situations,when two people don't know each other but have to spend time together.

«Would you like to do something?»Y/n calm voice sounded even more melodious up close.

She tried to mask that awkwardness with a polite tone,asking her guest with a kind expression.

Cregan spoke little and for the rest of the time he just agreed or disagreed on a certain statement.

The younger of the two was shrinking her minds to think of some kind of game to play together, but the boy next to her would just stare at her,frowning,as if he was annoyed by that situation,while standing close to window of that room like he wanted to escape that situation.

Y/n curled her nose,bored by that sudden superior attitude that Cregan was carrying on himself.

«Look,you can still go back in the rain if you prefer.»she told him,with a sour tone.

She felt bad to see him frightened by that thunderstorm,but if he didn't even show her a minimum of gratitude or a spirit of collaboration, then he could very well leave.Y/n was a sunny child,always with a smile on her face and ready to raise the morale of anyone who needed it.

But“This boy is really unpleasant”she thought.

Cregan crossed his arms to his chest,squeezing his eyes and staring at her,offended and angry at the same time.He thought that he shouldn’t have accepted her invitation and that both their fathers had made a mistake by promising them.They would never get along.

He could very well go back to his room and overcome that storm on his own,as he had always done until then.He didn’t need Y/n help.He made a grimace in the direction of the little girl,who responded to the gesture by raising her eyes to the sky.

But when he was about to open the window door and return to his room,without his dark cloak,a flash illuminated the sky and his face.

Cregan eyes went wide,as he was falling backwards and ending up on the ground on his butt as he waited for the arrival of the thunder that did not take long to arrive.His lower lip trembled,while he couldn't move any muscle.

He hated how thunderstorms could do this to him.He hated how they could make him tremble and frighten.

“They are a normal thing,dictated by nature”his father had always told him.

Yet Cregan didn't believe it.He continued to hate thunderstorms.

And something told him that this fear of his would never go away.

«Cregan.... are you all right?»he heard a soft voice behind his back.

Cregan looked up and saw Y/n standing on her knees on the carpet and he only remembered at that moment of her presence.

The boy gasped,looking for an answer.But before he could speak,another flash lit up the room,and before the thunder could be heard,Cregan had already put his hands on his ears.

The arrogant facade,which he had previously put on,had now completely crumbled, revealing his insecure and frightened side.

Y/n didn't know what to do.

The annoyed face she had a little while ago,was gone.Now she was really worried for him.She just wanted to find a way to distract him,and to put an end to that clash of lights that illuminated the room.

Cregan did not move,with his head resting on his bent knees,and the palms of his hands were still covering his ears,in the vain hope of not hearing that almost metallic and shackled noises.

«It’s alright,don't worry.»Y/n tried to reassure him.But it seemed that no one could move the young boy.

«They usually just make a big noise and then they go away.»she continued with a reassuring voice getting closer to him.

But Cregan was still shaking, scared,and Y/n didn't know what to do.She was never scared of thunderstorms.She would have liked to hold him tight in a hug,to drive away all his fear.But she knew that if she did,she would only make things worse.

In the meantime,Cregan continued to make himself small,smaller and smaller,curled up almost on himself on that light pavement.

«I mean…deep down it's just water,isn't it?Water and lights.As if it were an ocean... and the oceans are beautiful,aren't they,Cregan?»she asked with a hint of hope.

Y/n was used to the water,she lived near the sea and she had grew up running up and down on her fathers boats with her brothers.Her mothers read her stories about fishes,sailors,mermen and mermaids.

And while he did not respond,too busy controlling his fear,Y/n came up with an idea.

«I know what to do!»she almost screamed,catching Cregan attention and shicking around the room,as if looking for something.

The boy looked at her confused,forgetting – but only for a short time – of the thunderstorm.

«There you are.»Y/n exhaled,almost relieved.

Cregan blinked,observing the more confusion she had created throughout that room,the books scattered on the floor and the cabinets wide open,just for that medium-sized old book she now held in her hands,with a proud and satisfied smile.He didn't understand what use that book could have,but he didn't breathe,limiting himself to observing the young girl sitting carefully next to him and opening it.

And then millions of billions of fishes began to swim between the old pages.Cregan mouth widened into an “o”, but he quickly closed it again before Y/n could notice his astonishment.It's just a very simple book of fairy tales,he said to himself.

Yet,in some way,it had distracted him.

«If you lie down on the bed,you can see them better.»Y/n spoke,making herself comfortable on her bed and starting to turning the pages.

Cregan grimaced,watching how she was smiling.That wasn’t proper.

«Why should I lie down-»yet another thunder«Alright... I lie down.»he immediately changed his mind.

He hurriedly took the steps that separated him from that bed,before sinking into the lavander sheets that smelled of flowers and vanilla.

Y/n by his side smiled at him.But Cregan didn’t,remaining impassive and jolting at every thunder.She closed the curtains around her bad,only the soft light of the candle on the nightstand remain.The 'lightning' factor had been solved.

«They're beautiful,aren’t they?»she said,tracing with her fingers the different fishes.

They were.Their shapes,colors,sizes were mesmerizing.

Cregan didn't know to answer again.Those bright,fishes seemed to moved quickly on all those pages in a continuous flow.They were simple,so damn simple,yet they had caught the his attention.

«Yes,they ar–»he tried to agree with her,but here's yet another thunder made him jump out of fear.

Y/n by his side watched him close his eyes and plug his ears with both hands.

She had to find a way to distract him from the sounds too.

«You see him?»she turned the page and pointed to a strange figure on the right corner.

A man with a tail of a fish.

Cregan turned to her,taking his hands off his ears and moving his eyes on what Y/n finger was pointing to.

«It’s a merman?»he sounded uncertain,the figure on the book looked like the blazon of house Manderly.

Y/n nodded her head confirming his question«They said that he loved another mermaid and when the pirates had captured her,driven by grief,he turned his body in marble creating White Harbor.»she explained him,showing him another picture of the place where now she was living.

Cregan looked confused,his eyebrows raising«Why would he do that?»

The girl next to him sighed,her shoulder touching his,the sweet perfume of her hair was tickling his nose.She was warm and soft and made his stomach twist and his hands sweat.

«I guess that he couldn’t live without her and preferred to die.»she simply answered«Years ago i used to cry when my mother read me this story.»she continued as she flipped the page.

In the dim light,he could see that her eyes were a little glassy and only now he remembered that just like him,she was still a child with fears like him and stories that made her cry in her mother arms.

«How about her?»Cregan eyes and hand went to point to a female picture.

A mermaid with a red tale and long wet red hair on her shoulders,sitting on a rock near the coast.Her beautiful expression seemed pained,her mouth opened as if she was saying something.In the distance seemed that a storm was coming,the waves crashing into the shore,dark clouds on the horizon.

Y/n smiled,stretching the book out to him so that he could take a better look«She was a princess that fell in love with a sailor.Her father,the King of the fourteen seas had forbidden their love.»she started to explain with a soft tone«They could see each other only on the beginning of the Long Summer,when her father was away in the ocean»she said.

Cregan yawned«And how did they knew when the Long Summer came?»he seemed genuinely interested now.

«The storm.»Y/n quickly answered«It was her way to let him know that she was waiting for him.She was calling him back to her.»in her expression he could find a hint of teasing.

He shuddered,the thing that scared him the most,for this children book,was just a mermaid calling for her lover.

«But how does he know?»he asked again and his voice was becoming softer,his eyes closing a bit,yet he stayed very curious about the story.

«Does he know what?»Y/n whispered.

«That it was her.»he continued.

«Because he had loved no else but her in his life.Only her could have called him back home.»she explained and he swore he could’ve seen her eyes shine bright.

«I hate her father.»Cregan mumbled.

He found it stupid,it was just a fairy tale to help people sleep,but if the mermaid father didn’t get in the way tonight he would’ve been scared.And that’s also must had been the reason why she wasn’t afraid of them.

Y/n giggles made him blush,as she shook a little onto him«But you know what’s the best part of it?For the rest of the summer there wouldn’t be any other storms,just the bright sun as the two of them could be together.»she whispered.

It was a way to say that after every thunderstorm that would’ve been the sun.Always.

«Wasn’t she scared of her father founding out that they were still together?»his voice was sleepy and his eyes heavy.

Y/n shook her head«Love is stronger than fear.»she stated«Don’t you find it beautiful?»she said then,a dreamy look in her eyes.

There was no answer.

Y/n turned to him,finding him with his eyes closed and his mouth half-open.His chest would rise and fall at a regular pace,while his slight breathing could be heard.She smiled at that sight as she stroked his hair.

Cregan had fallen asleep.Y/n was satisfied.Satisfied and happy.

She succeeded in her intent,help him and distract him from the thing that scared him the most.She wondered what Cregan would do at this time if Y/n hadn’t invited him?

He would probably still have been awake.Because the thunderstorm hadn't stopped,no,it had never stopped.The mermaid was still calling for her lover.

The flashes,however,had mixed in the images on the pages and the noise of thunder had been lost among the stories of Y/n mermaids.Cregan had been so busy observing those images drawn on the book and hating the King of the seas,that he completely forgot about the thunderstorm.

Y/n closed the book,placed it carefully on her nightstand and reached out to grab a thin sheet at the bottom of their feet and covered the young boy who slept well by her side.

«Good night,Cregan.Tomorrow there will be the sun,i promise you.»she whispered kissing his forehead and drifting to sleep too.

And for the first time,after so many years,he slept.After so many years,Cregan was sleeping peacefully with a thunderstorm.

On any day in the early summer,ten years later,Lady Y/n Stark of Winterfell was laying in the bed she shared with her Lord husband.

Wife and husband,that’s what her and Cregan had been for the past four years.But before pronouncing their vows in front of the Seven and their families,they had became the best of friends.

When did they start calling each other that way?When did they become friends?Could they find a precise moment when they had gone from being strangers to even best friends?Were they able to establish the exact moment when their bond changed?

No,they couldn’t.

Maybe it was the year after that fateful rainy night.Maybe it was the next month when Cregan had spent all of his moments and attention in Y/n presence,falling in love with her more and more.

Or maybe it had happened at the exact time their hands had touched,when Y/n had proposed to be together in that thunderstorm,to mark the point of change for their relationship.

They didn't know that though.Neither of them knew for sure.But they didn't even ask.They fell in love with each other before they got married and that was that mattered.There are bonds that are born before the interlocking of the hands and connections that are born before touching each other.It was just pretty to think that,all this time,there was some kind of invisible string that was tying them together.

Anyone who cared for Cregan had to understand that he needed a little looking after.Someone who could help him sleep,who reminded him that he was just human and that he could still a child sometimes.And Y/n understood that,she held him gently,far more gently that anyone ever did.She stayed up with him when he couldn’t sleep at night,she stood next to him to greet the arrival of Prince Jacaerys Velaryon and supported him in his decision to fight for the Dragon Queen.

All because she loved him more than anything and because he loved her.To love and to be loved was to rest.

Yet,now that Cregan was away,on the Wall of the great north with the young prince,Y/n couldn’t seem to find sleep.It was raining heavily outside,the long summer had arrived earlier that year and a violent storm was what welcomed it.

The pale rays of the moon filtered through the clouds,the wind was blowing against the windows,the lights of the lightning shaped the dark room she was in.

Cregan had ruined her,she thought to herself,ever since they got married and started to share the bed she couldn’t sleep if he wasn’t next to her,holding her in his arms,kissing her lips softly and whispering how much he loved her.But she knew that,with the war at their doorstep,he was busy with the young prince Jacaerys who came two weeks ago in ask for the help of the North.

Her husband was a man of honor,the Lord of Winterfell that never forget his oaths.

When a particular loud thunder broke through the quietness of the castle,Y/n got up from her bed.Taking the candle on the nightstand,she started walking down the dark corridor to reach her children chambers.Her sons,Rickon and Brandon,only four and two years old,looked exactly like their father:true men of the north but with their mother eyes and kind smile.

Just like their father they were scared of storms,it took her hours to put them to bed that night since the first drop of rain had hit the ground.They both reminded her the first time that she had spent with Cregan during one of those,curling up on her as she read them one of her books to help them sleep.

But that night was different,after two weeks of writing letters and longing,Cregan was finally home.As she quietly opened the door,the candle that Y/n was holding in her hand almost fell,when she saw her husband sitting on a chair in between the two beds where their sons seemed to sleep so soundly and well.

He was still wearing his dark fire coat and his long were wet,the tip of his nose red from the cold,while in his hands he was holding a old fairy tale book that they both knew very well.As if he had heard her behind the door,he smiled,and his face was like the sun.

He had came back as soon as he had heard the first sounds of the thunders,like a sailor bewitched by the melody of a siren voice.His sons were the first ones to greet him,running barefoot down the hallways to reach comfort in their father strong arms.

Cregan had been there before,his heart clenched in his chest as he dried the tears off their eyes and saw the fear on their little faces.But he knew what he had to do,unlike his father,he would always be there for help his children no matter what.

«The mermaid had waited all winter for her lover return,her voice guided him through the storm.»his voice was quiet and soft like a warm blanket«With the first lights of the new sun,he came back to her.»in his hands the hold book.

His oldest son yawned«But wasn’t he afraid of the storm?»Rickon asked,holding his teddy bear closer to his chest.

«He was.»Cregan nodded«But you know what is stronger than fear?»he whispered,noticing his younger son fast asleep.

Rickon shook his head,his eyes fighting to urge to close«What?»he chirped.

«Love.»his father simply answered«The idea of coming back to his lover was stronger than the fear of the storm.»Cregan stood up,caressing his son head.

«One day i want to love someone this much.Just like you love mama.»Rickon murmured sleepy,with a little smile on his face.

«And you will.»he promised«One day you will have someone that will help you overcome your fears and that will always call you back home when you are wondering too far.»he kissed both of his sons forehead.

Cregan was still a little nervous about storms,but that night he was finally back home as sun on water.Y/n reached for him and skimmed her hands over the light of him.

«I missed you.»she whispered on his lips,kissing him sweetly.

Cregan was holding her in his arms,gently caressing her hair,his forehead on hers«I saw the storm and i knew.»he smiled,trailing his lips on her chin and cheeks.

Y/n shivered,not only because his icy fingers were rubbing up and down her back,but because only her could understand the meaning of those words.The intimacy of having something only them could share with each other.

«So you came back early because of the storm?»she giggled as his beard tickled her beautiful face.

He smiled even more,tightening his grip on her smaller body«I came back because of you.Only you could have called me back home.»he whispered placing a kiss on her lips.

The smell of her hair,the taste of her mouth,the feeling of her skin seemed to have gotten inside of him or in the air all around him.She had become a physical necessity,not only to ease his fear,but to have someone to come back to.

She placed her head on his chest,listening to his heartbeat beating alongside hers.They stood there for a moment more,embracing each other,in the dark corridor.

«Do you hear it?»Y/n softly asked suddenly.

«Hear what?»Cregan voice was low.

«The sound of the rain.»she explained,closing her eyes and relaxing against his touch.

For a while they just listened to the incessant ticking of the rain,while a thousand fish continued to swim on the pages of their book.

But suddenly a flash illuminated the corridor,followed by the due thunder.

Y/n jolted,expecting her husband to do the same.

Yet this was not the case«Aren't you afraid of thunderstorms anymore?»she teased him.

«How can I be afraid of thunderstorms when I'm by your side?»he said,caressing her cheek lovingly.

«Tomorrow there will be the sun.»she smiled against him,brighter than any light.

She was right,after the storm there was always the warm weather and Y/n was the golden sun at the horizon.That one thing that gave him hope for a brighter future,the only one that could bring him back home.Because his sleepless nights are better with her than any nights could ever be alone.

[gul4bjamoons]

✩ timeless whispers; 

              jamal musiala ────── 

    A friendship so tight, the lines between love and loyalty blur—but what happens when what's been unsaid for years is finally revealed?

⭑  wordcount : four thousand four hundred thirty-seven.

⭑  notes : sorry its a bit long but it took me a hot minute to edit this down to under 5k ;-;

˙⋆✮ masterlist.

Jamal Musiala had always been a thread woven into the fabric of your life, stitched so tightly that you couldn’t remember a time before him. He was in every memory that mattered, his laughter tangled up with yours, his presence as constant as the grey English skies overhead.

There's the summer when you were eight, when the humidity was unbearable, the kind that made the pavements soft and sticky beneath your trainers. You’d both tried to build a den at the bottom of your garden using old bedsheets and bits of wood from the shed. It had been going well—until Jamal decided it needed a second floor. The entire thing collapsed within minutes, sending you both sprawling into the grass, sheets tangled around your limbs. You’d groaned dramatically, but Jamal just lay there laughing, the sun catching in his dark curls.

Later his mum brought out ice lollies, you both sat cross-legged on the patio, the melted juice running down your wrists, arguing over who would win the Premier League that season. He was convinced it would be Chelsea. You, just to wind him up, would say Manchester United. It was the same argument every summer, neither of you ever backing down.

But football wasn’t just something you talked about—it was everything. You played until the street lights flickered on, your school shoes scuffed from kicking the ball. The small pitch by the park became your second home, the place where Jamal’s feet moved like magic, where his skill made even the older kids stop and stare. It never surprised you—watching him play had always felt like watching something special, something bigger than just kickabouts in the park.

“One day, I’m going to be out there!” He’d said, lying on his bedroom floor, his head resting on his folded arms. The TV was on, the blue glow of the screen flickering across his face.

You’d snorted, flicking a crisp at him. “Yeah? Don’t forget about me when you’re off being famous?”

Jamal caught the crisp mid-air, popping it into his mouth with a smirk. “Hey, you could always come along. Be my agent? Or my personal bodyguard. You’re proper scary when you’re mad.” Causing you to nudge him with your foot. 

So, when Chelsea’s academy did call, it felt inevitable. 

You still remember those afternoons at the academy. The smell of freshly cut grass mixed with the tang of sweat and the distant hum of whistles from other pitches. You’d sometimes tag along, a book in your lap you barely paid attention to, as your eyes followed Jamal’s every move. He was mesmerizing. The way he weaved through defenders, his deft touches on the ball, the way he’d glance your way after scoring.

And then there were the stolen moments after his training sessions. The two of you would walk to the corner shop, sharing a single bag of crisps as he recounted every highlight, every frustration, every dream.

“You’re going to be a superstar one day,” You’d say, half-teasing but mostly proud.

He’d laugh, shrugging it off. “Guess that would make you my number one fan.”

And just like that, your heart would betray you.

Skipping beats and filling your chest with a warmth you couldn’t explain. But you never told him. How could you? You couldn’t even admit it to yourself at first.

He was your best friend. The boy who let you do his hair when you were younger, who stayed up all night watching horror films with you despite hating them, who always made you laugh until your stomach hurt.

You lived in a world of denial until one match day. The crowd roared as Jamal dribbled past a defender and chipped the ball effortlessly into the net. He turned, grinning, his gaze scanning the stands until it landed on you. That smile—bright, unguarded, like it was meant just for you—unraveled something deep inside. You clapped along with everyone else, but your heart ached with the weight of what you now knew. You liked him. Not in the casual, childish way, but in a way that terrified you.

For months, you kept it to yourself. The fear of ruining everything paralyzed you. But as summer stretched on and your time together grew quieter, more comfortable, the words pressed against your lips, desperate to be spoken.

-

One sunny afternoon, you decided you couldn’t hold it in any longer. The two of you were in the park near your neighborhood, sitting on the old splintering bench that had been “yours” for as long as you could remember. Jamal was bouncing a football absentmindedly against his foot, the rhythmic thud blending with the chatter of children playing nearby. You’d rehearsed this moment a thousand times in your head, but now that it was here, your palms were clammy, and your chest felt too tight.

“Jamal,” you said, barely recognizing your own voice. He looked up, his dark eyes curious and a little concerned.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, his tone gentle but laced with worry. He always knew when something was on your mind.

You hesitated, the words clawing at your throat. “There’s something I need to tell you.”

He straightened, the football rolling away as he gave you his full attention. “Okay,” he said slowly. “You’re starting to scare me.”

You forced a laugh, shaking your head. “I think… No, I know I’ve been feeling this way for a while,” you said, stumbling over your words. “I like you, Jamal. More than a friend.”

The words hung in the air, raw and unpolished, a fragile offering. You dared to glance at him, hoping for… something. A smile, a laugh, a spark of recognition. But his expression was unreadable. His brows furrowed slightly, his lips parting as if to speak, but no sound came out.

“Say something,” you whispered, your voice cracking under the weight of his silence.

He dropped his gaze, his jaw tightening. His hands fidgeted in his lap, his fingers tugging at the loose threads on his shorts. The silence stretched, unbearable and suffocating. When he finally looked up, his eyes were filled with something you couldn’t quite place��guilt, regret, maybe both. But still, he said nothing.

The realization hit you like a tidal wave. He wasn’t going to respond. The truth of your feelings lay bare between you, and he couldn’t even give you the courtesy of an answer. Your cheeks burned with humiliation, tears threatening to spill as your chest tightened with the weight of his rejection.

“I should go.” you said abruptly, standing before he could stop you. Your vision blurred, and you turned away, your legs carrying you far from the bench, from the park, from him. The tears came as soon as you were out of sight, hot and unrelenting, spilling down your cheeks as sobs wracked your body.

That night, you lay in bed, staring at the ceiling as the scene replayed in your mind on an endless loop. You felt foolish—foolish for thinking he might feel the same, foolish for risking your friendship, foolish for believing you could ever be enough for someone like him. 

But even then, as your chest ached with regret and humiliation, you couldn’t bring yourself to wish for anything different. Because falling for Jamal, as painful as it was, still felt like the most natural thing in the world.

But the bleeding didn’t stop there. The following days were a haze of misery. You replayed every moment between you and Jamal, analyzing every laugh, every touch, every shared glance for something—anything—to suggest he might have felt the same. Each memory only deepened the sting. His silence had spoken louder than words ever could.

You ignored his texts, his calls, his attempts to reach out. Seeing his name light up your phone was a dagger to your chest, a cruel reminder of everything you’d lost. You couldn’t bear to face him, to hear whatever excuse he’d offer. It wouldn’t change the fact that he hadn’t chosen you.

And then, a week later, the universe delivered its final blow. 

You were scrolling through social media when a mutual friend posted a photo. Jamal, surrounded by suitcases, standing in what was unmistakably an airport terminal. The caption was simple: “Good luck in Germany, Jamal! We’ll miss you.”

Your world stopped. 

You stared at the image, your mind struggling to process what you were seeing. He was leaving? He hadn’t told you. He hadn’t said goodbye. He’d just… left. You ignored the tiny voice in your head saying he would have told you if you had picked up any of his calls.

You dropped your phone onto your bed, staring at the ceiling as tears streamed down your face. The ache in your chest felt unbearable, a weight pressing down on you, suffocating you. You wanted to scream, to cry, to forget. But no matter how hard you tried, the memories of him wouldn’t leave you. His laugh, his smile, the way he’d look at you when he thought you weren’t paying attention—they haunted you, a cruel reminder of everything you’d lost.

-

When you applied for the study abroad program in Munich, part of you hoped this would be your escape—your chance to move forward, away from everything tied to him. Munich had always been a dream of yours. The cobblestone streets, the imposing architecture, the vibrant culture, the language—it was all part of a vision you’d long nurtured. This was supposed to be your new beginning, a fresh chapter far from the old hurts. You knew Jamal was here, but that was the last thing you cared to focus on. This time, you weren’t looking to be haunted by the past. You were determined to leave him behind.

This chapter is about what’s best for you. 

It’s hard to believe that nearly a month has passed since you arrived in Munich. In that short time, everything seems to be falling into place. Classes are going better than you anticipated—your professors are engaging, and though the workload is intense, it challenges you in all the right ways. There’s a rhythm to it now, a routine that feels both natural and reassuring. Late-night study sessions at the library, once dreaded, have become a habit—one you’ve come to find unexpectedly rewarding. It’s as if you’re finally settling into the life you’ve always envisioned, building something uniquely yours from the ground up.

Weekends are reserved for exploration, and Munich has proven to be everything you hoped for—and more. Every corner offers something new, from the irresistible food near Marienplatz to shopping the streets of Sendlinger Strasse. You find yourself captivated by the architecture at the Deutsches Museum, losing track of time as you wander through its wonders. It’s as if each day is its own small triumph, a quiet reminder that you’re actively creating the life you’ve always dreamed of.

Thankfully you're not doing it alone. You made some friends around Munich, one being Teni, your roommate. You spend nearly every day together, with study sessions inevitably turning into long, animated conversations about everything from the peculiarities of German grammar to the latest news. Teni, from the UK as well, is here for a study abroad program, pursuing her deep passion for sports reporting. 

In fact, she has Bayern games on all the time, and at first, you tune it out, not really invested in the familiar hum of a sport you once followed closely. But before long, you find yourself checking in more often—not because you’re particularly interested, but because you feel an unexpected pull to stay in the loop. And then, on nights when you’re distracted by the game, you can’t help but notice Jamal on the pitch. But you quickly submerge yourself with something else before you can ponder on him too long.

So, when Teni asked you to come to the game, it wasn’t exactly a surprise. She loved the sport and you two had spent so much time together on numerous escapades, that it would’ve been weird to say no. 

And that’s how you end up here, right in the heart of the Allianz Arena—way too close to the pitch. The roar of the crowd, the bright lights, the hum of anticipation hanging in the air. It’s all a little overwhelming, and for a second, you debate staging an exit. But it’s too late now. You’re here, surrounded by the chaos and excitement, and for some reason, it feels like the past is trying to crawl up from the depths of your mind.

Teni is already snapping pictures for an article she’s working on. You, on the other hand, are content to blend into the background, quietly absorbing it all. And then, as the players jog onto the pitch, your world stops.

Jamal.

You know he’d be here. After all, the lineups have been announced, but no amount of mental preparation can shield you from the rush of emotions that hit the moment the teams take the field. Your heart skips, your breath catches, and for a split second, everything blurs—the arena, the noise, the faces around you—until all you can focus on is him. His presence hits you like an electric current, jolting every nerve in your body.

He’s still the same, yet not—the boy you last saw through teary eyes now stands before you, older, sharper, more refined. Time stretches, and you feel as though the past has pulled you back in, wrapping its arms around you, refusing to let go. You try to shake it off, but it clings tighter.

Your eyes dart to how the Bayern players move with fluid precision, warming up with stretches and sprints, their bodies sharp and focused. The sound of their feet hitting the turf is rhythmic, almost hypnotic, as the intensity builds with each passing minute. The crowd's chants vibrate through the air, and you can feel it in your chest, yet you’re strangely disconnected, caught somewhere between the present and the past.

As the players finish their warm-up, they smile for the cameras, posing with exaggerated ease as they head back inside. You stand just off the pitch, the weight of the moment settling on your shoulders as Teni snaps away, capturing the energy of the scene for her article. The flashes from her camera light up the field, but your focus is elsewhere—on Jamal, standing in the midst of his teammates. They pull him into their group shots, laughing and teasing, their camaraderie effortlessly on display. The smiles are bright, wide, but there's a distance in Jamal, something quiet behind his grin. 

His gaze sweeps over the crowd, and then—almost imperceptibly—his eyes meet yours. Thanks to fate, all you can feel is the weight of his stare, heavy and familiar. For a split second, it’s like nothing has changed—like the years between you don’t exist. His expression falters, just a glimpse of something real. 

Then, just as quickly, he looks away, his attention snapping back to his teammates. The game’s starting soon, and there’s no room for sentimentality. He jogs toward the tunnel, his figure swallowed by the bustle of the stadium, the noise picking up again as the crowd shifts with anticipation. 

You try to focus on the match, the fast pace of the players darting across the pitch, but your mind keeps circling back to him. How? Out of everyone in this stadium, he makes eye contact with you? The thought almost makes you laugh, the absurdity of it. It feels like some strange twist of fate, like destiny had a sick sense of humor. You try to brush it off, but the knot in your chest refuses to loosen, and no matter how much you tell yourself to move on, his presence is still there, hovering in the background.

As the game goes on, you can’t escape the pull of your own thoughts. Teni, meanwhile, is blissfully unaware of your inner turmoil, too focused on her notes to notice the way you’re fidgeting, how your attention keeps slipping. It’s not until halftime that she finally raises an eyebrow, sensing something’s off.

“So,” she says, leaning in with a mischievous glint in her eye. “You’re really not paying attention to the game, huh?”

You try to ignore her, shifting in your seat and glancing at the scoreboard, hoping she’ll drop it. “I’m just… processing,” you mutter, hoping that’s enough to satisfy her.

But Teni is persistent. “Processing what? You’ve been out of it the whole time. You’re not really watching the game.” Her eyes narrow, a knowing look creeping into her expression. “What’s going on? You look like you’re somewhere else entirely.”

You wave her off, trying to brush off the tension. “I’m just hungry,” you say. “That’s all. Just need a snack or something.”

Teni gives you a skeptical look, clearly not buying it. “Uh-huh, sure,” she says, but then she shrugs, turning her attention back to the game. “Well, I have to stay here and take pictures, but while you’re at it—grab me a pretzel or something. A good one, okay? Not the stuff they sell at the stands.”

You can’t help but laugh, the tension between you easing slightly. “Alright, alright. I’ll get you the best pretzel in the stadium.” you tease, standing up to leave.

“Make it extra salty,” she calls after you, her focus already back on her work.

You smile to yourself, shaking your head. A simple request, but it’s enough to pull you back into the present. As you walk away, you can feel the buzz of the stadium around you, the weight of Jamal's gaze still lingering, but it’s easier to ignore now—at least for the moment.

You groan in your head as you realize how long the line is. Taking out your phone to scroll through, half-heartedly checking messages, when a new DM pops up on Instagram. You glance at the notification and your heart stops.

You blink, trying to process. It’s not a name you ever expected to reach out again and the message is so vague it almost feels like a prank. 

“Is it really you?” It asks—simple, almost too casual for someone you haven't spoken to in years.

You stare at the screen, unsure of what to make of it, and just as you're about to put the phone down, a second message follows. 

“Meet me after? Please.” You read the message about ten times as if it was incorrect. The directions of where to meet him popping up seconds later.

Your breath catches in your throat, and a strange mix of disbelief and excitement floods over you. It’s him. After all this time, after everything that’s happened, here he is, reaching out like it’s nothing. Your fingers hover over your phone, unsure of what to do. On one hand, you don’t want to see him. Why is he even texting you during halftime? It feels so odd. But on the other hand, you know you can’t just ignore it. There are too many loose ends between you two, too many questions left unanswered. You can't abandon the ship completely without addressing this, without facing whatever it is that still lingers between the two of you.

-

The stadium was still humming with the energy of the game, the final whistle's echo lingering in the cool night air. The crowd thinned, voices blending into a distant murmur, but you barely noticed. Adrenaline coursed through you—not just from the match, but from something else.

Teni hadn’t suspected a thing when you made up an excuse to slip away. She’d been too focused on getting post-match interviews, flipping through her notes, already mapping out her next move.

“I’ll meet you later,” she had said, barely glancing up, her mind occupied with work. “I have to talk to a few people after the game.”

And now, here you were.

When you finally spot him, your steps falter. 

He stands a few paces away, the stadium lights casting a soft glow on his damp curls. His jersey is gone, replaced by a simple hoodie, but he’s still him. The past and present collide in an instant, a heartbeat stretching into eternity.

He turns, as if sensing you, and your eyes meet.

“Hey…” He says, his voice quiet, uncertain.

“Hey.” You echo, gripping the ends of your sleeves, fingers curling into the fabric as you try to steady yourself. “Long time.”

A short laugh escapes him, but there’s no humor in it. His eyes rake over you, searching for something—recognition, maybe. An opening. “Yeah, it has been.”

A pause. A shift in the air between you—charged, heavy. The weight of unspoken words presses against your ribs.

“How long have you been in Munich?” he asks, voice careful, measured.

“A month.”

His brows lift. “A month?” A sharp exhale, a bitter laugh. “And I had no idea.”

You hesitate. You could explain, but would it even matter? Before you can decide, he steps closer. The space between you shrinks, the air between you electric, weighted.

“I’m sorry I never got to clarify everything,” he says, voice dipping lower. “Why I never told you I was leaving.”

The words hit like a punch to the gut. Your arms tighten around yourself, a shield against the memories clawing their way to the surface. “And that’s supposed to make it okay?” Your voice is sharp, bitter. “You disappeared”

His jaw tightens. “I know.”

“You don’t just get to say sorry and expect me to forget.” Your voice wavers, despite the anger simmering beneath it. “You left me with nothing. No explanation. No closure.”

His hands flex at his sides like he wants to reach for you, but he doesn’t. “I didn’t tell you because I didn’t know how.” he admits, eyes dark with something unreadable.

You let out a humorless laugh. “That’s not good enough.”

“I know,” he says, almost pleading now. “I realized. But I thought—” He stops, swallows. “I assumed you hated me. That you moved on. That forgetting me was the best thing you ever did.”

You exhale sharply, shaking your head. “I do hate you.” But the words sound hollow, empty, the anger laced with something far more painful.

His lips curl in to an apologetic smile. “I also never told you how I felt.” He continues, his voice growing even more hesitant. 

You start rolling your eyes as you turn away. "Let’s not do this right now. Just let it be."

But before you can step back, his hand catches your wrist—not forceful, just enough to stop you. When you glance at him, his eyes are pleading, raw with emotion.

"Please," he breathes, his voice barely above a whisper. "I’ve waited years to tell you what I need to say right now. I don’t deserve for you to listen, but… please."

Your breath stutters.

He swallows hard. “I didn’t respond back then because I knew it wouldn’t be fair. Not when I was about to leave.”

The silence stretches between you. The world feels distant, the noise of the city fading as everything shifts around the weight of his words. 

“You don’t get to do that to me.” you snap, voice sharp, shaking.

“I know,” he murmurs, stepping closer, his eyes searching yours. “I know it’s been years. And maybe I don’t have the right to say this now. But seeing you tonight... it felt like the world stopped. Like it always did when you were around.”

Your chest tightens. It’s the same feeling you’ve carried for years—the ache, the unanswered questions, the part of you that never stopped caring. You try to keep your guard up, but the pull of him, of this moment, is undeniable.

“I never stopped thinking about you,” he says, voice thick with emotion. “Even when I tried, you were always there. In every city, every match, every late night when I couldn’t sleep. I wondered if you were okay, if you ever thought about me, if you hated me.”

You blink, fighting back the sting in your eyes.

“I should’ve told you back then,” he continues, voice cracking slightly. “But I was scared. Scared that if I said it out loud, leaving would hurt even more. And I was right.”

You press your lips together, trying to hold back everything threatening to spill over.

He exhales, stepping even closer. “If you feel nothing for me, I’ll walk away. Right now.”

Stillness spreads across the night sky. He takes another step saying “If there’s no world where I can fix my mistakes, let me know.” He’s so close now, his warmth seeping into you, his eyes desperate for an answer. 

“Tell me to go.” His gaze flickers to your lips. 

 You inhale sharply, the sound barely audible, but he catches it. His name slips from your lips in a whisper. “Jamal.”

You lock eyes with him, and the universe halts. In the depth of his gaze, you see everything—the years, the silence, the regrets—and yet, all that matters is right here, right now. You feel the familiar weight of his presence, the way his gaze pulls you in, a magnetic force that makes everything else vanish. The tears fall before you even realize they’ve started, tracing paths down your cheeks.

Without thinking, you step into him, your hands trembling as you grip his hoodie, pulling him closer, as if you could erase all the distance between you with that one movement. His arms encircle you, holding you tight, steadying you as you bury your face against him. You’re not sure who’s shaking more, but it doesn’t matter. 

He pulls you close—so close it steals your breath. His arms wrap around you, strong and sure, as if he’s afraid to let you go again. Your arms tighten around him, your fingers gripping the fabric of his hoodie as the years collapse into this single, trembling moment.

He exhales into your hair, his body shaking slightly. You squeeze your eyes shut, feeling the dampness of his curls against you, the warmth of his skin through the fabric.

It won’t be easy. You both know that. The wounds, the past, the things that need healing—they won’t disappear overnight. But somehow, in each other's arms, there is no doubt. Together, you can overcome the time lost, the mistakes made, and everything that’s stood in your way. Because this was never meant to be forgotten. Just waiting, tucked away, until it was the correct time to fight. And this time, no one’s wanting to let go.

Neither of you speak. There are no words for this. Just the quiet hum of the world around you, soft and steady, as if time itself is holding its breath.

Maybe it never was.

© gul4bjamoons 

[invisiblegarters]

High School Frenemy Final Thoughts

I know, I know. I'm super late with this one. To be honest I was just going to keep it for a set of micro reviews (as if there's anything micro about any of those, sigh), but well. *looks down* Yeah. So here I go.

Oh my gosh this show. What can I even say about this show. Gird yourself because you think I was long winded before? Ha, you don't know long winded. The thing is that this show was completely off of my radar. To the point that I don't even remember if there was a mock trailer for it at some point, and to this day I don't think I've seen the official one either. The only reason that I bothered watching is that one of my mutuals was telling me about it and I said, "huh, this reminds me of School 2013 I think it was. I watched it because of my undying love for Lee Jong Suk." To which they replied, "oh yes, I think it's an adaptation of that." And since I had watched that one and remembered liking it well enough, I decided to binge watch the first eight episodes (all that were out at the time). I've never been so happy for an "eh, I guess" watch in my life. Because this show was so good. Part of it is the source material - School 2013 was an excellent show that explored themes of friendship, the pressure that students are put under by parents to succeed, the trouble people get themselves into when they are desperate...it's just great. And this show explores that as well. Part of it is the cast - everyone was amazing even though I will never stop being mad that I loved Foie's Mr. Sung as much as I did - but in the end what it is is the same thing that got me with Peaceful Property: this show has heart. What I loved most about this show is how hard it fought the idea that is so prevalent today that people are stagnant. That is a lesson that I really wish we had more of in today's world - so often we're willing to hate others forever based on something they did years upon years ago, often with very little evidence that they've continued to do so as they grew older and ultimately, wiser. So often the thing that we are holding against them happened when they were teenagers. And so often those opinions have changed. But we don't account for that, and neither do some of the teachers (most notably the Vice Principal) in this show. They see Class 2 as a project, or irredeemable thugs, or lazy and unmotivated. And Class 2 isn't really interested in changing that belief. It isn't until someone actually expects them to do better - not demands it to get money for the school, but because they know that they are capable of it - that the kids start to change. But it's not really changing, as Mr. Sung points out later. It's that they're growing up. As we all do. And finally, they're doing so in an environment that is allowing them to actually grow. But it's not jus the kiddos who are learning. It's the adults too. Because shockingly enough, we don't stagnate after we hit 20, either. So many people in this show are in the process of change. Of striving to be better. Of learning - sometimes hard - that their way of doing things isn't the only one, or even necessarily the right one. Not that everyone in the show did change. Jeng remained a dick throughout, and I appreciate that, because while I do love the heartwarming message the truth is that some people actively choose to make the wrong decision and then keep on that path regardless. At the heart of the show, though, was friendship. Fractured friendship that is being mended, tested friendship, new friendship, and friendship that is so fierce it causes people to reach down into the darkness swallowing you and yank your stubborn ass out by force, even if they have to enlist the help of every single person in the class to do it.

Shin and Saint's friendship was of course front and center, and I adored it - these two are so ridiculous about each other in the absolute best way, and I think we all knew that Shin was never actually that mad about Saint breaking his leg but about breaking his leg and then leaving him - not only taking his dream but also taking the one person, ironically, who could have made it bearable: himself. The amount of pain all over Shin every time he saw Saint's big pleading puppy dog face was enough to know that, but if we didn't get it they then had him literally scream it at him (to be fair, pretty sure Saint didn't get it. He's lovely but also kinda dumb, poor thing). Their friendship was the glue that held the show together, and it was threaded throughout even when they were barely talking or had worked things out and then somehow managed to adopt the rest of the class as their unruly kiddos. They were glorious, and both Sky and Nani did such an excellent job that I immediately put Wu on my to watch list even with that absolute farce of a mock trailer. I will watch anything these two are in together, BL or not. And I genuinely did watch most of HSF without shipping Saint and Shin, although by the end I was convinced that no they're in love actually (Shin absolutely is aware of this and Saint is not. See lovely but dumb). GMMTV's first branded bromance pair? I'd be down for it. That said, Saint and Shin's friendship wasn't the only one in the show that got me. Eve and Peeta did too, as did Airy and Eve. I liked them a lot - Eve and Peeta's friendship is being tested a bit by her overbearing mother sticking her big foot in where it isn't wanted, but I really loved that when it came down to it and Peeta was starting to fall apart Eve only cared about her well-being. I also really liked that despite the initial dislike and distrust between the girls from the different schools, Airy was actually a really good friend to Eve, level headed and giving decent advice when she and Peeta were in the middle of falling out. I also liked the way she and Tangmay went to bat for Eve when they thought that Jan had kicked her out of the Thai competition due to preferring Peeta instead, and then apologized when they learned they were wrong.

The one friendship I did not expect to feel so much about was Ken, Knot, and Nate, though. I thought they were going to be just a trio of hapless bullies, there to be fought against and not much else. But no. Instead of making them two dimensional bullies and not much else, they made them well rounded human beings who adore each other to pieces, who clearly bonded because they feel like they have no one else (this is especially shown in Ken's case, that dude's dad sucks). The way that Knot begged both Nate and Ken to please think about their futures because he loved them so much. The way that Knot and then Nate pretty much dragged Ken out of Jeng's gang by the scruff of his neck (with help from Saint and Shin, resident Batmen and aforementioned coparents to a bunch of kids only a couple of years younger than them). The way they rallied around him and were willing to do just about anything to help him out. That's love, and it won me right the fuck over with ease.

Ken in particular got me in a damn chokehold. The way his face would get whenever anyone treated him like a friend always made me feel a bit teary. And the way that he really did start trying once he realized that there were more people than Nate and Knot on his side, and that he didn't actually have to fight the world.

I also really need to take a moment to talk about how amazing Mark Pakin was as Chadjen. Just an amazing performance. I really hope that he gets at least a nod for it.

I guess this turned into more of a love letter than it did a review, but whatever. The show was amazing and I loved it. The only criticism I have is that I feel like Ken's father's turn around was a little too pat. I do like that the kids weren't the only ones learning lessons and changing, but I don't buy that one conversation with Ms. Jan took Ken's dad from drinking too much and saying things like his son would never amount to anything and it was a waste of time to care about him to sincerely wanting to make an effort. I also wish that we'd seen at least some of how Shin's mom went from very reluctantly allowing Saint back into their lives (understandably, to be honest, considering everything) to making him food and treating him once again like part of the family. I have my own thoughts about it, and we didn't have to see it, but it would have been nice.

In the end those two things did keep this show from passing the Moonlight Chicken Test…but not by much. 9.5/10, almost my perfect show.

[ficmashup]

Lifelines

Summary: You join TF141 after something happened on your last deployment. They take you in and while it takes some time, you find yourself warming up to them, and them to you. Perhaps especially to the Captain.

A/N: Alright, I think I've decided on eight parts for this. Or at least that's the limit I've set for myself, so it might be less. I like even numbers and ten just seems like too much. I might do little drabbles for G and the team later on, but these eight parts will be the end of the sequential story. Hope you all enjoy!

Warnings: Vague references to SA and PTSD just to cover my bases, crass language, sickening fluff.

Word Count: 4.5k

Feral Masterlist

It’s been three months since I joined TF141.

“I hate this fucking thing, fucking impossible, fucking piece of shit…” I’m elbow deep in a car engine in a valley, trying to fix the damn thing. Gaz is watching me and looks torn between being afraid of me or amused about the amount of cursing I’m doing. We just finished a mission and are waiting for the others to meet us here so we can drive to the exfil point. If I can get this damn car running, anyway.

“What are you planning to do on leave, G?” Gaz asks and I give him a pointed look. He raises his hands in surrender, smirking but wisely keeping his mouth shut. We’ll be on leave as soon as we get back to base and I might be a little…uneasy about it. I’ve finally settled into a pattern here and returning home to my empty apartment in a city I barely know doesn’t exactly appeal to me. “Hey, G?” Gaz calls again and I take a breath to cuss him out, but swallow every word I’m about to say when he holds up a tiny hard candy.

“Where did you get that?” I ask, my tone changing in an instant.

He grins, pulling the wrapper taut so it unwraps itself. “You’re not the only one who likes sugar, G. You want it?” I nod, pulling out a hand before frowning at seeing it smeared with oil and dirt. “Yeah, don’t think that’s going to work. Open up.” He holds the candy out and I hold out my tongue, humming happily as he slides it off the wrapper and onto my tongue. The flavor fills my mouth and my mood instantly lifts at tasting the sweet treat.

“What are you doing on leave, Gaz? And if you say ‘breaking hearts’, I’ll break your favorite fingers.” I go back to work, my steady hands replacing the part that broke with the replacement we luckily had on hand. My tongue tucks the hard candy into my cheek.

He chuckles. “Nah, I won’t break hearts this time. Some backs, maybe.” Amusement fills his warm brown eyes as I give him a deadpan look and I can only hold it for a second before smiling.

“You’re a menace.” I scold and his own smile grows.

“Haven’t gotten a complaint yet.”

“Yeah? You give out comment cards?”

“Sure do. Each one sprayed with a little cologne to keep their memories fresh.”

I snort. “Let me guess, the average is three stars out of five?” I raise a brow at him before smirking to myself at his outraged expression.

“You’re a cruel woman, G. Always strike for the heart.” He puts his hand over his chest as if I’d mortally wounded him. My head shakes as I finally make the connection I needed and I finally stand up straight, stretching and wiping away the sweat on my brow.

“You’re right, I’m being too charitable. It’s two stars, isn’t it?” His jaw drops and my smile only grows. “Can’t blame me for doubting you, Gaz. You couldn’t figure out where to plug in the hose to the car, how am I to expect you to know where to put anything else?”

“Fuckin’ hell, G. Just cut my balls off and be done with it.” But he’s grinning just like I am. I flick my chin towards the driver’s side as I step off to the side and grab a rag to wipe off some of the grime covering me.

“Try to start her up and see if it works. You do know where the key goes, yeah?” I tease and he gives me the middle finger while I chuckle. He slides into the car and as soon as he turns the key, the car starts. I breathe out a long sigh of relief and nod to him, shutting the hood and slapping it twice to make sure it’s secure. Gaz cuts the car off just as the others arrive and all eyes go to me and the mess that I’ve made of myself. “Car’s fixed.” I tell them the end result and look them over carefully for any injuries.

“Good to know.” Price says, amusement dancing in his eyes. “Ten minutes, then we move out.” He spins a finger in the air before moving a bit closer to me and Gaz. “Did you just sit here and look pretty while G did the work, Garrick?” He asks and I hide my smile at the edge of humor in his voice.

Gaz shrugs a shoulder. “It is what I’m best at, Captain.” Price chuckles, shaking his head before looking at me with that little spark in his eyes that I’m growing to love seeing. I roll the candy to my other cheek and Price tracks the movement, smile widening a little.

“Clearly. She looks like she bathed in oil.” Ghost, always the one to be relied upon to be complimentary, says and I swear I see his nose scrunch under his mask.

“You’re welcome to walk back to base.” I respond lightly and wave away Soap’s attempts to wipe the oil off my face with a rag he just spit on.

Ghost steps towards me and I give him an extra thorough once over to make sure he’s not hiding anything. My eyes zero in on a rip on the outside of his left pantleg on his thigh. Red tinges the fabric. “But seriously, clean up before you get in the car or you’ll kill us all with fumes.” He comments gruffly, but with a hint of laughter in his voice.

“What’s that?” I ask immediately, taking Soap’s rag and wetting it with my canteen before wiping my hands as clean as I can get them. Ghost is quick to take a single step back as his mouth opens. “And you think long and hard about the wisdom of lying to me.” I bite at him before he can say a word and he gives me a heavy sigh, but I don’t back down when he stares at me.

“Just a graze.” He grumbles and I point to the ground, telling him to sit. Reluctantly, he sets his gear down before sitting in the dirt.

“Pants down.” I curl my fingers and give him a pointed look as he starts to roll his eyes. He shimmies them down enough for me to see the wound. It is just a graze. Not too deep, but something he should have reported. “Alright. You’re going to sit here and wait while I clean my hands, then you’re going to let me treat this. In return, I will not yell at you for keeping this to yourself.” I offer him a deal and we stare off for another few moments before he sighs again, then nods.

“No promises here.” Price says and gives Ghost a pointed look of his own which Ghost shrugs off. I scrub my hands and arms almost raw before disinfecting myself and walking back over to Ghost who has thankfully stayed put.

“Didn’t see any use in troubling you, G.” He says quietly as I meticulously clean the wound with my candy held between my teeth before it disintegrates. “Would’ve taken care of it when we got back to base.”

“You trying to make me obsolete, Ghost?” I ask softly, glancing at his eyes when he hesitates to answer and seeing the surprise on his half-hidden face behind the mask. “Because this is my job. Which means by definition, this isn’t troubling me, it’s letting me do my fucking job. And Soap came to me last week with a paper cut, so never feel like your injuries are too small for me to treat.”

“It was fucking between my fingers! Hurt like a bitch!” Soap objects from the car while Gaz grins next to him and pats his shoulder in consolation. Price is leaning against the side of the jeep, watching us while slowly smoking one of his favored cigars.

Ghost hums and I can see the thoughts behind his eyes as he thinks on it. “You want me to come see you when I get a papercut?” He asks while I begin wrapping the wound, just to keep it clean while we’re traveling.

“I want you to lean on me.” I respond softly, well aware of what I’m asking of him. “When you’re injured or sick, trust me to do my job and take care of you.” My fingers are ginger as they finish the wrappings, but I stay kneeling next to him as I meet his gaze. He’s silent for a little bit, considering as he usually does, before he nods once.

“I’ll work on it.” The response isn’t out of the ordinary for him and usually means no, but his tone is softer this time. I’ll take it.

I nod and stand while he straightens himself out too. “Good. I’m going to give you a list of how to care for that and you’re going to send me a picture of it every day while we’re on leave.” My gaze turns sharp and this time he doesn’t bother resisting the urge to roll his eyes.

“Just come check on it yourself, G. Your flat isn’t far from mine.” He offers and I blink at him while he stands, his hand sliding over the small rip in his pants with a frown. “I’ll take you for tea in that place I told you about.” His gaze lifts to mine and I struggle to hide what the offer means to me, how he’s offered a lifeline that I’ll cling to during leave.

“Deal. But I don’t want to hear a fucking thing about the amount of sugar I put in.”

He groans, but I see his mask twitch with a smile. “Gonna give yourself a heart attack.”

I smirk at him. “More likely to be shot before my heart gives out.” He adjusts his gloves on his hands while shaking his head and we head over to the car with everyone else.

“G, come ‘ere.” Price curls his fingers and I walk over to him as he folds a piece of cloth into a square. “Your face is still covered in muck.” He offers me the damp cloth and I take it with a grateful nod, scrubbing my face quickly before looking back at him for a once over. He chuckles and the sound makes my skin tingle and my stance lax. If I could bottle it, I’m positive the sound would be gold as sunlight.

“I didn’t get it all, did I?”

“Yeah, not quite.”

I huff, folding the cloth before handing it to him. “I’m not going to get all of it because I can’t see. Forget it.”

Price straightens from his spot leaning against the car and takes half a step towards me, eyes on mine to check in as his fingers lift to hold my chin. “I’ve got it. Had to do this to Gaz when he faceplanted in the mud.” He waits as the surprise leaves my eyes and I give him a slight nod before gently using the cloth to clean my face.

“Yeah, I recall you shoving a rag in my face and scrubbing it like trying to get burnt cheese off a pan.” Gaz grumbles and the corner of my mouth twitches at the discontent in his voice, but I’m a little too taken with what Price is doing to focus on anything else. I’ve seen these hands gut a man like a fish with a knife the size of my forearm. Now, they’re gentle and firm as he wipes the cloth over my brow, across my jaw, dabbing at my cheek, then slides it down my nose while my lips twitch as it tickles.

I’m silent as he works and I take the time to look over Price’s face. I can see the pores of his skin, the individual hairs of his beard, the way the light hits his eyes and makes them seem a shade lighter. It’s nice…being tended to like this. Price finishes and turns my head back and forth a little while I swallow. “Verdict?” The words are supposed to be teasing, but it comes out a bit breathless.

Price’s eyes meet mine and his thumb slides back and forth over my chin a moment before he nods. “Fit.” He responds quietly before stepping back and we both look away. I’m a bit unsteady within my own mind and I’m happy to load the car when Price calls for it. I’m not sure what just happened, what just passed between him and I, but maybe going on leave isn’t such a bad thing after all. If only to get a little distance.

*     *     *

I’m itchy in the city.

Leave started a few days ago and I’m already irritated with civilian life. London is bustling as always and all the sounds and people have me taking a deep breath every minute just to keep calm. I keep walking, repeating the address in my head before the sign enters my sight and my shoulders lax a fraction. My steps are strong and sure as I make a beeline for the door before stepping in and surveying the shop. People mill about, some sitting down in the small café, and my next deep breath brings the scent of fresh coffee, tea, and pastries into my lungs. The familiarity among the unfamiliar settles me a bit more.

My eyes look towards the tables that are in clear view of the door, both front and back, and my gaze zeros in on a figure sitting at a table with the barest sliver of shadows across it. Naturally, he’d find the one place where there’s a shadow. I walk towards him with purpose and I get the privilege of actually seeing the corner of his mouth lift, rather than the little twitch of his mask. “How’s the wound, Simon?”

He chuckles and I can’t help smiling at getting to see the emotion on his unmasked face. It’s a show of trust that not many earn. “Isn’t that what you’re here to tell me?”

“Figured I’d trust your word while we have a cup. Unless you’d like to take a trip to the back so you can drop your pants?” I dare and he shakes his head, a real smile tugging on his lips.

“Wound’s fine. Barely twinges.” He answers as we settle across from one another at the table. We’re both angled slightly, me towards the back door behind him and him towards the front door behind me. Old habits die hard.

“Alright, tell me which swill is your least favorite and that’ll be the one I’ll get.” I tease, already feeling a little lighter being around a friend. He gives me a look, but silently points out rose tea on the menu. I raise a brow at him and he waves a hand at me, telling me to shut up before I can say anything. We order and I silently judge him for getting black tea, why not just get coffee, then stare down at the milky pink of my tea.

“Won’t bite you.” Simon says amusedly, his voice deep as he drinks his own tea. My fingers perch on either side of the cup as I try a sip. It’s sweet and floral. Not at all the type of drink that I would think Ghost would try, but my lips press together to keep in a wide smile as I realize I like it. “Thoughts?” He says and he already sounds smug.

I sigh, letting myself smile. “I love it.”

He chuckles. “Don’t sound too excited about it, G.”

“Means I have to put up with you being right.”

“Should be used to it. Happens all the time.”

“Some of the time.” I correct, smirking as he doesn’t combat me this time. “What are your plans this leave?” I ask as I take another sip of my sweet tea and Simon shrugs a shoulder while his legs stretch out a bit more under the table.

“No plans. Sit on my ass for a while without being bothered.” He says simply and my head shakes as I tap the pad of my finger against the edge of my cup. He sounds like an old man, but I’d be lying if I said that my plans were any different. But after being out with him today, the image of me sitting alone in my flat feels less peaceful and more…lonely. He quirks a brow at me as I look at him, but he lets me think before voicing my thoughts.

“If that’s your plan, then come out with me today. Sit on your ass tomorrow.” I offer, leaning my elbow on the table as I look over at him. His eyebrows raise and I think I see pleasant surprise flit through his eyes.

He copies my position and leans forward a bit. “Yeah? What are you doing today?”

My smile turns a little sheepish. “Grocery shopping?”

He chuckles, nodding as he finishes his cup of tea. “Alright, G. Let me judge what you fill your pantry with. Bet it’s all sugar.” I finish my cup as well and shoot a longing look at the tea leaves they have for sale. I make a mental note to come back and get a bag of rose tea for myself sometime. We head out and I tug my jacket tighter around me as a cool breeze greets us. It’ll be Winter soon.

“Yeah, and what do you buy? Fuckin oats?” I bat back and this time I get a little bit of a bigger laugh. The sound makes me grin and this time, as we walk through the city and we’re sure to keep within a handsbreadth of one another, I feel steady.

*     *     *

A week passes. Simon and I settle in a routine of meeting every other day either for tea or to go with the other on a meaningless errand. It helps make mundane life feel more…normal. We both relax knowing we have someone else to watch our backs. There’s a week left of leave and when I enter the little tea shop to meet Simon, I’m surprised by another guest.

“Price.” I greet him warmly, a little thrown off at how pleased I am to see him. He takes my hand and shakes it, then pulls me in for a hug. I breathe him in as my free hand slides over his back and my head rests briefly against his hard chest.

“Good to see you.” His arm tightens around me before we pull back and look each other over. He looks good in civilian clothes. I’ve seen him like this before, of course, when we went out to drink with the team. Somehow, this is different. Maybe it’s just that I haven’t seen him in a week. “And I prefer John when we’re on leave, if you don’t mind.” He says and I can’t help smiling softly at the sound of his voice. He coughs a little and I track the sound and pinching of his expression before his expression smooths. We stay close, standing barely half a foot apart while Simon stands opposite me across the table.

“John.” I correct and see the corner of his eyes crinkle at the sound of his first name from my mouth. “It’s good to see you too. I wasn’t expecting you.” My gaze cuts to Simon who smirks as the three of us sit down.

“Didn’t know he was going to be here till an hour ago. Figured I’d surprise you.” Simon says as he settles in his usual place and I in mine, Price sitting beside me on the right. “Besides, Price goes a little stir crazy when the four of us are out of sight for too long. Like leaving kids in the other room and things go a little too quiet.” I grin and Price chuckles.

“Already checked in with Soap to make sure he hasn’t blown anything up and Gaz spared me an hour before he had to run off for a date. You were the next stop.” He tilts his head towards Simon before looking towards me. “Hadn’t quite figured out a way to check in on you without being obvious, so this worked in my favor.”

The corner of my mouth lifts even as Price coughs quietly again. “You could just ask me for coffee and I wouldn’t have thought anything of it.” Not completely true. I would’ve obsessed about the meeting and what it might be about until it happened, but now I know what his intentions are, my answer is true for any future attempts he might make. “Although, am I to take it that you checked in on us last because you trust us to cause the least amount of trouble?” I tease, smirking at Simon with the knowledge that since I was last, that means I cause the least amount of trouble.

He quirks a brow in return as if to say that isn’t saying much. I resist the urge to stick my tongue out at him. “More about the likelihood and type of trouble caused, but whatever makes you happy.” Price teases back and I lightly kick his shoe under the table for spoiling my fun. A server comes by and drops off three cups in front of us. Warm affection fills me as I pull the mug into my hands and soak in the warmth as I see the familiar pink of my favored rose tea. Simon must have ordered for us.

I peek over at Price’s cup and see a light amber. Surprise flits through me. I’d pegged him for a black tea man like Simon, despite how much I make fun of him for it. “It’s lemon. Only place that brews it right and makes a nice change from the usual.” Price tells me when he sees me looking and lifts the cup towards me. I lean in, steadying the cup with my hand even though he doesn’t let go of it as I take a sip. The slight zing hits my tongue first and my eyes widen a touch before the taste is soothed by a slight earthy bitterness not unlike tobacco.

“Mm. Suits you.” I say with a nod, relaxing back into my chair and offering my cup to him as an exchange before he holds up a hand with a shake of his head.

“Can’t handle that sweet stuff. Figures you’d like it, though.” He says with a slight smile and my heart beats a little funny as he takes a sip of his tea, putting his lips exactly where mine were while holding my gaze over the cup.

I shift in my seat, swallowing before breaking away and glancing at Simon while my skin gets a little hot. “We’re both predictable, then.”

Price makes a soft, disapproving noise that makes my head swing back towards him. “I’d like to think we just know each other.” He tempts a small smile onto my face and I nod once, allowing the amendment. We both look back over to Simon and while his expression is smooth, his eyes are twinkling with…something.

“Technically, Simon ordered so he knows us best. Softie.” I nudge his foot under the table and his gaze drops while he hides his smile behind his cup. The three of us talk for a while and finish our drinks before Simon comes up with a very suspicious reason to leave that I don’t buy for a second.

“Take Price to the shops with you, G.” He suggests as we file out of the tea shop out into the chilly air. My eyes widen at the suggestion and he can’t hide his smirk fast enough. Simon turns to Price while barely hiding a smug grin. “Maybe you can keep her from rottin’ her teeth with sugar.” Price turns to me, laughter in his eyes, but my focus is on Simon.

“You fucking loved that cereal I got, I saw you eating it when you were at my place and I know you have a box in your cabinet. You hide it behind your stupid packages of jerky.” I call him out, pointing at him accusingly. His brows raise.

“At least they have fuckin’ protein. All you’re getting are cavities.”

“Sorry, didn’t know you were actually the medic here.”

Simon opens his mouth, but Price cuts him off with a small pat to his chest. “As productive as this is, I think we all have places to be. Till next time, Simon.” They shake hands while I give Simon a pointed look that he smirks at before we part ways. Price and I walk down the street side by side in the opposite direction. “He’s told me about the trips you two have been making. It’s been good for him.”

I smile, pulling my sweater tighter around myself. “It’s been good for me too. Civilian life never seemed to…fit right after a deployment. Like that was my real life and this was an uncomfortable dream. Merging the two has helped.” Even walking down the street now with Price makes the world seem more concrete under my feet, the noise of people around us less grating, the breeze less chilling.

“That’s good to hear.” Price’s voice rumbles and his eyes are soft as he looks at me. “I wouldn’t mind going with you this time, if you’d have me.” Surprise flits through me, but I can’t keep myself from smiling.

“Of course, I’ll have you. I’d love the company.” People slide by and I automatically slide my hand into the crook of Price’s elbow to keep us close. His hand slides onto mine and I look up at him as he lets out a small huff.

“You’re freezing.” He pulls us aside and shrugs off his coat while my eyes go wide. Gingerly, he wraps his jacket around my shoulders and tugs it snug around me while the warmth leftover from his body sinks into me like an embrace.

“John, it’s too cold for you to go without a coat.” I scold, but my voice lacks any sharpness or heat. All he has on now is an olive long-sleeved shirt that looks very good on him and jeans.

His eyes crinkle at the sides again as his fingers keep tugging lightly on his jacket, making sure it’s secure. “It’s alright, I run hot anyway.” He assures me and I frown slightly, really looking him over while my mind races. His cheeks are a little pink, but not his nose or ears. Flushed then, not from the chilly breeze winding around us.

“Fine, I’ll allow it. But only because I run cold and the shop isn’t far from here.” My hand wraps back around his elbow and I notice how hot his skin is, even through the fabric of his shirt.

Price chuckles. “Yes, ma’am.” His hand automatically slides back over mine as we start walking again. The feeling of his calluses against my skin makes my brain short-circuit and I falter in my inspection of him. I realize with a start that this is the first time we’ve really been alone with no danger of interruption by a mission, a teammate, or anyone else. The thought makes my heart beat funnily again and I start rethinking this.

Maybe being alone with him like this…isn’t a good idea.

Taglist (hello, darlings, thank you for reading as always. <3 If anyone else wants to be tagged, lmk!):

@under-the-dirt @jj-ara33 @sorchateas @cherry-blosom-tree

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[blakelysco-pilot]

You Belong To Me

From the Love Letter Series

Robert “Rosie” Rosenthal x Josephine Harris (OFC)

The revelation that Robert Rosenthal does in fact love his best friend, Josephine Harris, comes too little too late as he’s getting ready to ship out to England. With a promise to write exchanged on the train platform, and an even bigger pinky promise that he come home to her, Rosie and Jo forge a romance detailed in their letters. Now that he’s returned home, he intends to make good on his promises.

“I’d better see you at Minton’s…”

He remembered the good natured teasing in his own voice as he began his semi-goodbye to Crosby on the hardstand the day they left Thorpe Abbotts. Croz had chuckled and promised he’d see him there; a sense of familiarity between the two as they felt their lives back home creeping upon them.

Now… well, now he was standing in front of the bar at Minton’s, fingers tapping idly on the short rocks glass in his hand, eyes sweeping over the sea of people. Men in their dress uniforms, pressed sharp; women wearing their favorite red lipstick and best stockings, all crowded together on the dance floor while the band played on.

New York was still swept up in the victory of the war; sweethearts who couldn’t get enough of dancing with their soldier who had just come home. Men looking to meet someone, to quell the ache of the last few years with a female companion.

Bringing the glass to his lips, Rosie let the familiar taste of the scotch soothe him, as he continued his people watching. Thinking back on it, sure, he had told Crosby that in no uncertain terms he’d be at Minton’s upon getting home; but it was a sentence almost identical to the one he had spoken moments before he shipped out, that resonated with him like the aftershocks of ringing a bell.

He couldn’t help but conjure up his own vision of red lips, smooth skin and a bright smile; the piece of home he had taken with him to East Anglia, and carried close to his heart (in the breast pocket of his uniform) on every single mission.

Josephine.

They had been childhood friends who grew up on the same block. Their moms were almost always having coffee together or, if the weather was nice, out on the stoop of their homes while Robert and Josephine played on the sidewalk. As kids, he had called her Jo, and she affectionately called him Robbie; and his Ma, well, his Ma would just shake her head with a fond smile and chuckle, muttering about how one day he would see it.

He’s twenty-eight now and he finally sees it, though, he supposes he saw it long before he shipped out. He had wanted to run down the block, knock on her door until her mother answered with a scowl on her face at all the noise, but something had stopped him. His Ma had said he thinks too much, but the laundry list of what-if’s had violently plagued him before deciding no, on his behalf. How could he drop that revelation on her, and then leave for god knows how long? His Ma had taught him better than that.

What he had asked her instead, was if he could write to her; but when the words tumbled forth past his lips, one or two getting tangled in his wiry mustache, she was already asking him the same thing.

“Would it be alright if I wrote to you?”

The pair both fell silent, before a soft laugh escaped Jo’s lips, and he knew he would be counting the days until he was able to hear it again.

“Should have known you’d beat me to the punch.” He grinned, head shaking in jest.

Jo just smiled and threw her arms around him, holding him close for as many minutes as she could before the conductor at Grand Central Station called for the ‘All Aboard.”

“Robbie…” She had looked up at him, big brown eyes filled with unshed tears for him; for this war, and if he had to guess, herself.

“I’ll meet you at Minton’s as soon as I’m back.” He had assured her, thumb swiping under her cheek to catch the first tear.

“You promise?”

He hated to make promises when the future was so uncertain for them, but, this was Josephine and he would be damned if he didn’t attempt to make her smile one more time before he got on that train.

“I’ll do you one better,” He grinned, holding out his right hand. “I pinky promise you, I’ll be at Minton’s, waiting for you.”

It was as close as he could get to saying ‘I Love You’.

Jo grinned, hooking the pinky of her own hand with his, just as the conductor yelled the last call for passengers.

“I’ll be waiting for your letters…” he had whispered, pulling her close once more. “With bated breath, Jo.”

“Not nearly as much as I’ll be waiting for yours,” She sniffled softly before leaning up and pressing a kiss to his cheek. “Come home to me in one piece, Robbie, please.”

That had been then. Before Thorpe Abbotts, Rosie's Riveters, twenty-five successful missions and reupping for a second tour. Before he had bailed out over Russia, before the horrors of Nuremberg and a hell of a journey back to base. He often thought back to that night after he had returned to East Anglia, sitting in the Officers Club with Croz, wondering if they were becoming the monsters they had been sent to fight.

No, they hadn’t become the monsters, but he had felt that the longer he was away from home the more he lost bits and pieces of himself from the ‘before’ and had to learn to live with the Robert Rosenthal of ‘after’. Would she like the ‘after’. The thought entered his mind so quickly, he almost missed it. Hell, he was still processing it all, and as he turned back to face the bar for a refill, his gaze caught on the entrance of the club.

There she was, his Jo, purse clutched in her hands as she looked around the crowded room for a familiar face. Dark brown eyes scanning over the bodies packed in like sardines, brown curls immaculately pinned up, bright red lips pursed in concentration. Abandoning his empty glass, he smoothed a hand over his curls, straightened his jacket, and pushed off the bar. Weaving his way through the throngs of people, he kept his gaze locked on her, as his feet carried him across the floor.

Rosie felt everything around him fade into a dull buzz as soon as her eyes found his. He pushed his way to the edge of the crowd, finally coming to a stop in front of her. Now, face to face, Rosie and Jo could do nothing more than stare at each other. Neither wanted to be the first to speak, to break the bubble around them, but both felt compelled to do something.

“I promised, didn’t I?” Rosie broke the silence with a smile.

He just barely made out his name falling from her lips before she was in his arms. He caught her with ease and held on tight. It was proof that she was real, that he was home, and there was nothing to fear as they stood at the entrance to Minton’s. Nobody spared them a glance as they sidestepped the couple, a sort of mutual understanding as so many others reunited under the same roof.

“Let me look at you,” Jo had pulled away first, but only letting go of him enough to let her hands slide down his arms to take his. “Home in one piece I see.

“As requested,” Rosie grinned, giving her delicate hands a squeeze. “And as promised.”

“You know better than anyone, that to break a pinky promise is as good as treason, Robert Rosenthal.”

“And you should know that I don’t make pinky promises with just anyone, Josephine Harris.”

“Well, now that we’ve settled that…” she trailed off, a teasing grin on her lips as Rosie began to guide her towards where he had spotted an empty table near the back. Close enough to get to the dance floor when they were ready, but far enough back that they could talk and still hear each other over the din of music and other patrons.

“Are dirty martinis still your poison, or did that change while I was gone?”

“Nothing’s changed,” she looked up at him as if to reassure him that it wasn’t just her cocktail order that remained the same, but the sentiments they exchanged in their numerous letters while he had been over in England. “Everything is exactly as you left it.”

In lieu of a response, he pulled out the chair for her, holding it steady as she slid gracefully into the offered seat, before moving to the chair across from hers.

Instead of sitting, Rosie moved the empty chair next to the one Jo was currently occupying, so that he could sit closer to her, as opposed to having the table between them. Once he was happy with the placement, he lowered himself into the vacant space, body turned at an angle so he could face his companion. He just barely caught a waiter moving in their direction, and flagged the gentleman down, promptly ordering Jo her aforementioned martini, and another scotch for himself. Once the waiter was gone, Rosie’s warm, much larger hand, covered Jo’s, his palms still rough from countless hours behind the yolk, causing him to internally wince as he felt her soft skin against his. The thought was quickly snuffed out as her hand turned upward to his, their palms meeting before her fingers intertwined with his on the table top.

“I missed you,” Jo spoke first this time, breaking the silence. “So much, Robbie.”

“I missed you too. Like you wouldn’t believe,” He admitted. “Your letters, they were the only thing I looked forward to. Just don’t tell my Ma that.”

“Your secret’s safe with me, Major.” She teased.

Rosie made a show of wiping the back of his hand across his forehead, mustache twitching upward as he smiled at Jo, stopping only when the waiter returned with their drinks. He watched as she lifted the martini glass to her lips; delicate fingers holding the top of the glass, nails painted a bright red, her eyes watching him over the rim as she took her first sip. He felt parched, regardless of the drink in front of him, as he watched her move with such precision and grace. Something he had missed sorely over the last few years, and fully intended on appreciating now that he could.

“Did they make it right?” He asked.

“Perfect,” She nodded, placing the glass back on the table. “Just as good as I remember.”

“It can’t have been that long since the last time you were here.” Rosie spoke, lifting his own glass to his lips.

“I haven’t been since… well, since the night before you left.”

“Minton’s is your favorite place! You mean to tell me you haven’t been here since–”

“That’s exactly what I’m saying.” Jo finished for him.

Her confession hung in the air, Rosie both shocked but warmed at the thought that she hadn’t been here without him and that the last time she was here had been with him. That she reserved this place as something that belonged to just them. He felt there was no better time than to drop his own truth bomb; he only hoped it didn’t send her running back out the door.

“Since we’re confessing things,” He started carefully. “I uh.. I want you to know that I carried your picture with me while I was gone.”

“…you did?”

“Every day,” he nodded. “I took you on every mission with me.”

He wasn’t sure what to expect after confessing all of that to her, but the glistening of her own eyes as she looked back at him wasn’t it.

“I’m sorry, I don’t know what… I didn’t mean to make you cry, Jo.”

“Shush,” She spoke quickly, one finger over his lips. “You wonderful, handsome man.”

His eyebrow quirked in response. It was all he could do given that her finger was still over his lips, and she had asked him to stop talking. But he wanted to do more than just keep talking. He wanted to take her in his arms and kiss her silly, and then take her on the dance floor and spin her around until they were both giddy and dizzy and drunk on each other. And then he wanted to kiss her some more. All too gently, he took her hand in his, moved it away from his lips, and carefully tugged her towards him until she was close enough for him to wrap her up in his arms.

“I should have kissed you that day at the train station,” Rosie started. “I was convinced you wouldn’t want me the same way I wanted you, and there were so many what-if’s, and then I was leaving. Truth be told, I should have kissed you long before the train station.”

“I’ve always been yours, Robbie,” She smiled. “We just took the scenic route.”

And then there was silence, save for the gasp that Jo let loose as Rosie’s lips finally descended on hers. Firm, yet gentle, and with the slight tickle of his mustache, he poured every ounce of himself into making sure she knew just how much he loved her without words. Because the words had been written in many letters over the course of years; phrased with care and longing for each other, a desire that grew much like stoking the flames of a campfire until it reached the point of blazing uncontrollably and there was no turning back. For Rosie and Jo, the fire burned and neither cared to put it out, or attempt to quell the flames.

When they finally pulled apart, the need for oxygen too great to withstand, neither could stop their smiles from growing. There it was. Their love for the ages, that they had planted, grown and nurtured during the days of war, was finally seen blooming under the dim lighting of Minton’s Jazz Club.

“I love you, Jo.”

“I love you too,” She grinned. “More than I could have ever said in any letter.”

“Yet somehow, I always knew. I wonder how that happened.” He teased her, leaning forward to press his lips to hers again.

The smart remark she had been ready to dish his way died on her lips as the band began playing a song that had Rosie tapping out a beat, eyes widening with mirth as he grabbed Jo’s hand and stood, pulling her up with him.

“Come on, pretty girl, let's dance!”

He led them through the crowd of people until they reached the dance floor, and then he found them a spot where he could hold her close and spin her in his arms until his heart's content. The band played on, an Artie Shaw tune that had Rosie laughing to himself as he thought back to the sound of his crew imitating him as they sat around the poker table at the Flak House, way back when. It was a story he had only briefly shared in a letter that he had written from Coombe House during a night he couldn’t find sleep. But now, the sounds of Artie Shaw brought him a smile, as the woman in his arms smiled back at him.

The band moved into a slower song, and Rosie pulled Jo closer, pressing their bodies together as they moved together, cheek to cheek.

“You really took my picture with you on every flight?” She spoke quietly, her voice for his ears only.

“I did,” Rosie nodded. “I kept it in my jacket, close to me. Except for that one time.”

“You know… when your mother got that telegram from the War Department that you had gone down, she ran down the block to our house so I could read it.”

“Oh honey…”

“I refused to believe you had left me without a proper chance at us. Selfish as it may seem, I couldn’t picture my life without you.”

“You won’t have to; not now, or ever. I promise, I’m not going anywhere ever again where you can’t go too.”

“Pinky promise?”

“More than that,” He grinned, before pressing his lips to her own. When they pulled apart they couldn’t help the smiles that took hold. “We can seal this one with a kiss.”

Read Part 2 Here

A/N: Thanks for reading! This series will continue for Rosie & Jo, so if you enjoyed this, please like, comment, reblog- whichever is your poison. Feedback is always welcome & my ask box is always open. If you want to be added to my tag list, or removed, let me know!

Tag List:

@winniemaywebber @rosiesriveter @bobparkhurst @victoryrollsandredlips @bcolfanfic @rowdy-redhead @sagesolsticewrites @major-mads @footprintsinthesxnd

[hairstevington]

flowers and ink (part 1)

Eddie Munson x Steve Harrington

Summary: Steve and Robin work at a flower shop together. One day, the pair decides to get matching tattoos at the place across the street. You can probably guess who their artist turns out to be. (requested by @thereindeerlady)

part two, part three, part four part five part six part seven part eight final part link to Ao3

Word Count: 2.6K

Warnings: This is just cute fluff, nothing too serious, modern day AU, Tattoo Artist!Eddie, platonic soulmates Steve and Robin, also I threw Bob Newby into the mix because I love him

A/N: I'm wrapping up the semester and am finally tackling my request list! Thank you for reading! :)

Robin applied to Flowers for All because a really pretty girl worked there and Robin needed a reason to go in and talk to her. 

She was hired, then the pretty girl promptly quit. Also, she was straight and engaged to a man. That was a huge bummer.

Still, the job stuck, and since they were down an employee…

“No,” Steve said when she brought it up.

“Please?” Robin begged. “Come on, you hate your job and it’s been forever since we worked together. It would be just like old times and -”

“Robin, we never used to get anything done when we worked together. We were terrible employees.”

That was true, but it did not deter Robin from her master plan. 

“Okay, well so far the only other applicant is the seventeen year old son of the owner who thinks the shop is actually a marijuana dispensary, and there’s no way I’m gonna work with that little twerp -”

“He didn’t take himself from the running when he found out you just sell literal flowers?” Steve asked, amused.

“I think he’s going to set up his own business in the back, honestly,” Robin sighed. “Please, I promise I’ll do everything and you can just hang out and -”

“Okay,” Steve said. 

“Wait, what?” 

Robin wasn’t anticipating he’d agree to it so quickly.

“I said okay. Sure. Fine. Where’s the application?” Steve took his phone from his pocket to find the Flowers for All website. He clicked on the “apply now” button and scrolled through the questions. 

There were basically no requirements. He just had to put in his name (Steve), education (high school), and any experience he’d had with flowers (none), and then boom, submitted. 

He got an email the next day to come in for an interview. Robin was assigned to be the interviewer.

He got the job. 

-

Eddie started as an apprentice for Ink About It when he was fresh out of high school. It was run by this dorky middle-aged man named Bob, who didn’t have any tattoos and initially seemed mismatched for the profession. Still, Bob was supportive and kind, and he let Eddie grow and thrive in the tattoo shop. He also happened to be amazing at working with clients and was a decent artist. Go figure. 

“Hey, Eds?” Bob asked as he tapped his knuckles on the door. Eddie was on his break, snacking on some chips while watching YouTube on his phone. 

“Yeah?”

“I was thinking of inviting Joyce’s son here sometime so he could see the place. He’s this great artist, and I think he’d love to meet you and see how we work here.”

“How old is he?” Eddie asked, his eyes still fixed to the screen. 

“He’s seventeen. Just about to graduate high school, can you believe it?”

Eddie didn’t really pay attention when Bob talked about his family. He probably should have listened more, but the man was just so dorky. 

“Okay,” Eddie agreed. He didn’t really want some kid in the shop snooping around, but it wasn’t really his decision. 

“Okay, great,” Bob replied with a smile. When he didn’t leave the room, Eddie knew he had more to say. He shut his phone off and turned to face his boss. “You see, uh. Will’s been having some trouble lately. Bullies and all that. He just came out, you know? And he’s a great kid. He’s so great, and some people at school are just - well, they’re bullies.”

Eddie didn’t really know where Bob was going with this. 

“That sucks,” Eddie acknowledged. “I remember when I came out, people said all kinds of shit - I mean, uh, stuff. Sorry.”

“That’s kinda why I’m telling you about it,” Bob said, shifting his weight on his feet nervously. “I think Will could really use someone on his side right now. Someone who really understands, you know?”

Ah. Eddie got it now. 

“Someone who’s gay,” he deduced. Bob knew that Eddie was gay, and he never cared or said anything about it, which was great. While he didn’t really want to be some motivational story about overcoming adversity in a hetero-normative society, he knew that Bob didn’t ask for much, and talking to a struggling kid seemed easy enough. “Okay, yeah. I’ll talk to him, if you want.”

“Great,” Bob said, breaking out into a smile. “You’re gonna love him. He’s a huge fan of that Dungeons and Dragons game, just like you.”

“Shit, really?” Eddie replied. “I mean - shoot. Sorry.”

“I never told you to stop cursing in front of me, Eddie,” Bob chuckled. “I know I may seem naïve and innocent, but I got into all kinds of trouble in my youth. You’re free to be whoever you want to be here, as long as you’re nice.”

He was just so wholesome it hurt. Eddie imagined the trouble Bob was referring to being something along the lines of sneaking a beer into a movie theater. It would probably break his heart to know some of the things Eddie had gotten into before he’d started working at this place. Maybe Wayne already told him, and he had just never said anything. Eddie certainly wasn’t gonna bring it up. 

“Hey Bob,” Eddie said. “Why did you start this job in the first place? Aren’t you this huge tech wizard?” Bob smiled warmly.

“Sure was. Bob the Brain, they used to call me. I still love a good puzzle, but life takes you to all kinds of places you don’t expect to go.”

“Yeah, but that seems like a pretty big career change,” Eddie continued. 

“Well, did you know this building used to be a RadioShack?” Bob asked. Eddie shook his head. “It was, and I used to work there. After it closed down, some artists tried to make it a tattoo parlor, but had no idea where to start. I stepped in as manager and they did the tattooing. I rebranded it, changed the name, and have been running it ever since. The rest of the story you’ve been around for.”

Bob was a great guy and a wonderful manager. He motivated Eddie to get his life together, and things had really leveled out for him just by having a stable job he enjoyed.

After their conversation, Eddie’s break was over, so he went back to work. He continued a design for a client who’d come in wanting a quarter sleeve, and then at 4pm he was scheduled to tattoo a bird on a guy’s shoulder blade. 

Overall, it was a normal day.

-

Robin knew every single plant and flower in the shop. She knew their names, their seasons, how to take care of them, and what they meant. 

She just happened to be really bad at keeping track of watering schedules, and tended to kill anything she touched. 

“Maybe I should work at a pet store,” Robin sighed, discouraged that the gardenias that had just come in had already wilted.

“What? Robin, why would you do that to the poor animals?” Steve replied, horrified. 

“Shut up, Harrington,” she snapped back. “Animals can tell me when they’re hungry.”

She looked sad, and Steve hated when she looked sad. 

“Aww, Robbie,” he said, jumping off the counter to put a hand on her shoulder. “It’s okay. I can help. If you tell me what to do, I can do it.”

“Are you sure about that?” she asked. 

“Nope,” he responded confidently. “But they’re already dying, so it’s worth a shot, right?”

Steve actually turned out to be a natural at taking care of plants. He tended to be very good at looking after people, so it shouldn’t have been that surprising, but what was most shocking was how much he enjoyed it. Robin caught him talking to the flowers quite a bit. It was adorable. 

Ink About It was right across the street from Flowers for All. Steve and Robin stared at it every single shift through the front window. Neither of them remember who started the bit where they’d come up with weird matching tattoos they’d get with each other, but it became a staple every time they worked together. 

“Salt and pepper,” Robin greeted him as he walked in one day. 

“You’re pepper?”

“Obviously,” she responded with a smirk. They continued working, but it was a slow day. The ideas got progressively unhinged as the hours went by. 

“What about…” Robin wondered, her chin resting on her hand as she sat at the register. “You get my face and I get yours.” Steve chuckled. 

“Or we both get Harry Styles’ face.”

“Yes!” Robin’s face lit up as she laughed. “What about something flower themed?”

“Like what? A flower and a pot?” Steve proposed.

“Sure, you can be the pot,” she remarked. 

“What? Why am I the pot?”

“Because you smoke pot and I don’t,” she explained. Steve shook his head and scoffed. 

“Weak reason, Buckley, but fine. You’re the flower.” She smirked, pleased with herself, but then Steve added - “The flower is dead, though. For obvious reasons.”

“Steve!” She yelled, laughing. “Harsh, but fair.”

Their shift ended, but instead of going home, they went to the bar next door. They continued the bit until they were tipsy, and ended up arguing over who would be Bert and who would be Ernie. It got kind of heated. 

“Whatever!” Robin huffed, throwing her arms up. “It doesn’t matter, because you know I hate puppets. We’re not getting Bert and Ernie tattoos.”

“You’re acting like we’re actually going to do this,” Steve said as he sipped his beer. 

“I mean, if we find something we like, why not?”

“Why not?” Steve echoed. At first, he was going to give her all the reasons he could think of why they shouldn’t get tattoos together, but then he realized he didn’t have any reasons. “Uh, I guess you’re right. Okay, so no Bert and Ernie. What about Frog and Toad?”

“Are you just going through all the queer-coded best friends in children’s media, Steve?”

“Basically, yeah,” he replied, smirking. “Fuck, I’m Toad aren’t I?”

“I’m glad you said it and not me,” Robin replied. They sat in silence for a moment, coming to the same conclusion. 

“Uhh, so maybe that’s - Like, maybe that’s not such a bad idea,” Steve said. “Am I just buzzed, or -”

“No, I’m right there with you,” Robin responded. Of course she was, she always was. 

Before they knew it, they were stumbling towards Ink About It.

-

Eddie had just wrapped up his final appointment and was quietly working on other designs. Bob had left for the day, and sometimes Eddie stayed late just because it was a quiet place to be. 

It became less of a quiet place to work when two tipsy idiots stumbled in. 

“Hello!” The man greeted Eddie. “We would like tattoos, please!”

“Okay?” Eddie replied, confused. 

“He wants Toad and I want Frog. You know, from Frog and Toad are Friends?” The woman said. “Can you do that?” Eddie eyed them both and did his best to refrain from rolling his eyes.

“I can do whatever, pretty much,” Eddie replied. “Except, uh - I mean, do either of you have tattoos?” The pair shook their heads. “Do you know where you want them?”

“We didn’t get that far,” the man responded, prompting both of them to giggle.

“Right, okay,” Eddie said. “So, since you’ve clearly been drinking and this is your first tattoo, I’m gonna say it’s a no-go. Think about it, and come back tomorrow if you’re still interested.”

This kind of thing happened every so often, so Eddie was used to it. People never came back. They always came to their senses once they sobered up, and Eddie would never see them again. He figured it would be the same for these two. 

It wasn’t. They showed up again the next day. 

-

“We’ve thought about it!” The woman said as she walked into the shop. She dug into her bag and pulled out a picture. “This is what we want. Inside of the ankle.”

“Wow,” Eddie said as he looked at what they’d chosen, impressed. “I really didn’t expect you’d wanna go through with this.”

“Why wouldn’t we?” the man argued. “It’s an amazing idea.”

“Yeah,” the woman agreed. “And work’s been slow, and we’re bored, and this is not even close to the wildest thing we’ve done together.”

Eddie didn’t find spontaneous tattoos to be that wild in the first place. He was covered in them, and most of them were on-the-fly. Once you have a few, it gets easier and easier to add more. 

“Right,” Eddie said, wondering what the other wild things they’d done together were. He wondered if it was some sort of innuendo, like they were the kind of couple that secretly went to BDSM clubs or something like that. “Well, lucky for you, it's slow here today, too. Shall we?"

Eddie had them fill out paperwork while he got the stencil ready. He had adjusted their reference picture a little bit just to add his own flair, and after they approved it they were basically ready to go. It turned out their names were Steve and Robin. 

Eddie thought that Steve was kind of a stupid name, and didn’t match the pretty boy associated with it whatsoever. 

They didn’t even seem that nervous, which was baffling. Eddie figured there must be more to them than he had originally assumed. They were also a lot less annoying when they were sober. 

“So, who’s first?” Eddie asked, gesturing to the chair. 

“I’ll go,” Steve answered, raising his hand. Eddie put the stencil on his ankle and got final approval before they got started. 

“You ready?” Eddie asked, holding the tattoo needle in his hand. He waited for Steve to back out, but he nodded instead. “Okay. It’s gonna sting a little.”

“I have a pretty high pain tolerance,” Steve replied. Eddie tried to hide the smirk on his face. He’d heard that line before, many times. 

Eddie put the needle to the skin, and Steve didn’t so much as blink. Huh. Well, okay then.

Tattooing someone naturally involves a lack of personal space. It never bothered Eddie, because he tended to not think about personal space at any given moment, but some clients were a bit more hesitant than others. Ankle tats were thankfully not as intense as a rib or hip placements, but it did mean Eddie had to have a stranger’s foot close to his face, which wasn’t amazing. 

He wasn’t a foot guy. The man attached to the foot, however…

Eddie couldn’t help it. Steve was gorgeous. He also was charismatic, which was a quality that Eddie always appreciated and was attracted to. Steve chatted with Eddie during the whole 45 minutes he was being tattooed, and even made Eddie laugh a couple times.

Robin started to show her anxiety the moment it was her turn. 

“You don’t have to do this, you know,” Steve reminded her. 

“Uh, of course I do!” she retorted. “This was my idea. You think I’m just going to let you have a loan toad on your ankle?” Steve and Eddie laughed. 

“I don’t mind. It came out pretty badass, thanks to Eddie.” Eddie smirked at the compliment. 

“If you can do it, I can do it. Come on, Eddie, let’s do this.”

She was shaking a little at first, so Steve pulled up a chair and held her hand. He asked her to start naming all the flowers they sold, and she did so rapidly. Eddie hadn’t heard of a lot of the plants she’d listed, and the list was unending. Ten minutes in, she eased into the process, and the rest went by without a hitch. 

Steve and Robin were really cute together. Eddie wasn't sure how long they'd been dating, but he wished them the best.

Steve left a sizable tip - like, an absurdly high tip - and then they were off. 

This time, Eddie was sure that would be the last he’d see of them. 

It wasn’t. 

(part 2)

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[bearsinpotatosacks]

I wrote a snippet of Bones welcoming some new Starfleet medical cadets. I'm not sure exactly how training works for Starfleet doctors, but after watching ER, I get the idea that it works mostly the same. Start training, do your rotations as a third year medical student, but I like to imagine that once you've chosen your area, surgery, psych, etc, you have to do a rotation on each kind of Starfleet vessel. Maybe they start on a starbase, then go to small ships that may or may not need your specialisation, then end up on some of the big ships such as the Enterprise. Enjoy!

Words: 1136

Looking at the group of fresh faced cadets in front of him, he knew that coffee wasn’t going to be enough. He hated when they hosted cadets. Partially because the little fuckers didn’t leave him alone when he was working, anything and everything he did was ripped apart and he couldn’t walk for two seconds without some question that a stupidly simple answer. The other reason was that they didn’t pester him anywhere near enough when they were off duty. It was like they were trying to pack all their questions into their eight hour shift and then were too scared to hold break their silence. 

Part of the journey of being a medical student, at least in his opinion, was pestering your mentors. You had to really get on their nerves because no matter how much it pissed him off, he knew that they had to learn somehow. And the ones who disregarded his gruff exterior, who plucked up the courage to ask him questions ten minutes after he’d woken up, or ten minutes before he was going to bed, were the ones who he answered. Not the fifth one in a row who’d stopped him as he went to go and check on a scan for a patient. There was a time and place for bothering him and these cadets never seemed to learn when that was. 

“Welcome to your rotation on board a constitution class vessel,” he said, not bothering to put any effort into the script they gave him to say. “This is where you’ll learn about the vital part you play, yada yada yada, be on the cutting edge of discoveries, yada yada yada, and face the final frontier.”

He rolled his eyes as he took a sip of his coffee. “Now that the mandatory stuff’s out of the way, here’s your real induction.”

The cadets looked at each other confused. Ah, so naive, they didn’t know about his reputation yet. Good, he wanted them to be shocked when they learnt how he really was. 

“Real induction, sir?” One of the cadets, who looked unnaturally groomed for someone standing in a sickbay, said.

He held up a finger and stopped the cadet before he continued. “First rule of sickbay, no one is sir, especially me, if you call me sir, I will not answer.” They seemed more puzzled. “You can call me Doctor, but that might get confusing fast, McCoy, Leonard, Len, or any number of curse words or well divised nicknames that I have no doubt the nurses will teach you in your time here, will suffice.”

They wrote that down. He almost laughed, but decided against it, he didn’t want to confuse them any further. Seeing them all so fresh faced was rather jarring for someone like himself. Medicine was in his blood, so to speak, it felt like a lifetime ago that he was in their place, all squeaky clean. Yet again, he hadn’t trained in Starfleet. And that was another point. 

“Who can hazard a guess as to why I don’t like being called sir, or by my rank for that matter?” 

Scanning the crowd, he didn’t see any hands popping up. Disappointing, he at least expected one person to be enough of a swot to look into the crew of the Enterprise. None of them were surprised when they saw Jim was their Captain, or Spock was XO, yet none of them did research into the department they were going to work in?

A sigh was on his lips as a cadet, near the back with her hair suitably tied out of her face, raised her hand. 

“Yes, Ms?”

“Cotteril.” She answered. “Is it because you didn’t train with Starfleet?”

“Bingo! I trained in Atlanta, Georgia, and despite the wonders we’ve made in socio-economic policies in the last few hundred years, some places remain rough, and nowhere else is that seen than in large cities. So trust me when I say, I am a doctor more than I am an officer of Starfleet, and I expect every single medical professional who works on this ship to follow that same rule of code.”

He stopped with the half hearted attempts at humour and made sure to stare across the group. A few of them gulped, some were either confused, or others annoyed. 

“My father, god rest his soul, was a doctor in the middle of bum fuck nowhere, so I learnt medicine in the best way you can, the messy way. My first experience in the medical field was helping a horse with a c-section because there ain’t no vet hospitals in the Appalachian Mountains, I can tell you that for free.” His accent was coming out now, it always did when he talked of his childhood home. “And I want you all to understand that when you walk into my sickbay you leave your politics at the door, understand?”

They didn’t reply. 

“Excuse me, I thought I asked y’all a question.”

“Yes, doctor.”

“Good, because if you have Vulcan with a sprain and a Klingon bleeding out, I expect every one of y’all to pick the Klingon,” He gestured at them with his coffee mug, a splash got on the floor. “So, repeat after me, the Hippocratic Oath is my Prime Directive.”

“‘The Hippocratic Oath is my Prime Directive’” The group chorused.

He nodded at them again, “Good, you may now step into sickbay.”

Turning around he gestured for them to follow. He’d never say the q-word, but he was grateful that there weren’t a lot of people in today. The last thing he needed was some part of engineering breaking and causing an overflow of red shirts. They weren’t the best of friends, engineers and those in sickbay, and it wouldn’t be such a problem if they knew some kind of first aid down there. 

“I will give you a full introduction of staff when we do rounds, but first I'll give you lesson number two of serving in the Enterprise sickbay,” he turned on his heel to face them. “Do not disrespect a nurse. Not only because they do some of the most vital and downright disgusting jobs there are to do, they set up the beds, machinery, administer the drugs, take samples and bathe the crew when the replicators malfunction and start spewing rotten fish guts in the mess hall, don’t laugh that happened last Tuesday, but also because if you do you will get doing rectal exams for most of your time here while also, most definitely, getting a mystery hypo that will make your dick turn purple, if you have one, or make you grow one if you don’t, and you won’t even feel it either. Understand?”

Yet again, more confused faces. One cadet was looking down at his trousers, concerned. 

“Excellent, now for the tour.”

-----

Take this an early WIP wednesday, I guess? I'm not sure if this will go anywhere apart from this snippet, but it could. I mainly just had this scene fully written in my head this morning and finally had a chance to write it.

[jeannefostergoriot]

So y’all voted for Marellinh. I present to you:

Force of Nature by Melina KB x Marellinh, from Linh’s pov.

« Fiery red curls, hell upon earth »: ahem. The red curls… Maybe Marella was originally blond, but we all perceive her redhead, don’t we? And hell upon earth is how her Pyrokinesy leads her to heat the world up.

« Karma scheming »: love the idea that these two finding each other and learning to equilibrate their powers would be karma finally rewarding their patience towards the hardships, their efforts in the war, their determination to stay positive.

« Tarot reading, type of it-girl »: don’t ask why, but I feel like Marella would do tarot reading. She started not really believing it, but now she kinda does, it’s half for fun, half serious. And anyway, doing it would relieve stress. Also. Yes. She’s an it-girl and iconic. That’s how the arts are.

« Feminine gaze, evergreen lace, her heels cut through pavement like it's papier-mâché »: that’s about Marella’s confidence and stamina everywhere. Also, she knows how to style herself (the ✨braids✨), and how to dress up everyday, but she doesn’t do it for the boys, rather to make the girls admirative, maybe a bit jealous. (Me, having a crush on Marella? Maybe)

« She takes a seat next to me, guess my grades are history »: that’s about the lessons. About how learning together can in the same time make each other progress so much for the Ability and distract from anything else. So the historic grades would have a double-meaning, at the same time low cause distracted by the crush, and very high for the Ability-class, cause equilibrium.

« Studying the way she signs, her name in calligraphy »: Linh’s the type of girl who would notice and study every. single. detail. about her crush. And Marella may starts as a cliche « not like the other girls », she’s very attentive and the calligraphy for writing and signing, is like the tarot earlier. It helps relax when things get complex at home.

« Perfume smells like apple spice, bergamot, jealousy »: well. Know I’ll be unable to look at a Marella art without smelling the apple spice and bergamot. Apart from that, the girl wears natural fruit perfume, if she has one. She doesn’t like complicated scents, that’d be overstimulating. And jealousy cause watch her knowing all the gossip. Watch her blend in. Watch her queening. She canonically knows gossip, the rest comes with it.

« Hate, the boys she dates, make my stomach ache »: * look at lava cake * yup. Linh would get jealous. And take extremely long to sort out which she loves. And then absolutely hate him. I’m not sure of the canon interactions with Fitz, but I’m not sure she likes him.

« She's a force of nature no one can tame »: here’s for the fact that Marella doesn’t have that many real friends. And for her fire.

« Shake the magic eight, I’m not afraid »: that’s for the moment when Linh will finally gather the courage to tell her. That moment she will put all her energy on one shot, and she will convince herself nothing can go wrong. Cause she is the type to freak out all the process and once she decides, she just goes « ok. Let’s go. » (that’s how I perceive Linh at least)

« of a force of nature, her dangerous ways, I’d fall into her embrace »: one, Linh knows that fire can be dangerous but she puts the out-of-control out with her water. Second, I perceive Linh as the type to hug tightly. Like really tightly, and without hesitation.

« She say “Girl’s night at mine, come around nine I can steal us bottles of the fanciest wines” ». There are multiple things here. I don’t really picture Marella hosting sleepovers cause Caprise. But the second she has her own house, she’d do it, now that she actually has friends. For the wine part: maybe Durand threw it all after the accident, but Caprise’s fall is attributed to Fizzleberry Wine, so, Marella could technically have access to some. And anyway, she has her flavored air, which she sips 24/7, and that kinda looks like a sort of party drink.

« While they all snooze, we play dare without truth, wrapped up in her sleeping bag like that’s what friends do »: both of them. They would confess trough a dare. And they would entirely deny. Yeah. I see them going in the same bed/sleeping bad, and still be like « nah we’re just friends » till one of the group snaps and tell them. They love dares, too. But not talking. Truths aren’t their thing.

« Siren eyes, tempting mine »: love the idea of Marella having the siren eyes, cause sirens are associated with the sea, so to Linh. Also, if there’s one suggestive look, Linh can not hold herself. After the confession, rather.

« Run acrylics up my thigh, is there romance in the cards? » this I don’t really know how to interpret it. If you have ideas, tell me in the reblogs!

« Fortune teller, tell me why, I can’t stand to be apart from her for a single night? ». Does Linh as anxious attachment? Yes. Especially following Tam’s leaving in Flashback and ignoring when she was trying to contact him through the air-water (it’s mentioned in Legacy that she can do that)(don’t know why I registered the info). And as Marella does tarot, said we, Linh’d be like. « Explain. I don’t have the words »

« Hands in the backseat, my fogged-up jeep, past curfew, sneakin’ out to »: that’s very much Linh. Guys. She’s adorable and sweet, and rather gentle. But she’s rebellious too. And if ever Marella send a message at 3AM, Linh’s going to be at Fluttermont in the minute. Thanks light-leaping. That would worry absolutely everyone she lives with (considering she doesn’t live with her parents but with Tiergan). But she’d do it.

« Leave my fear at home, cause every bone in my body hopes that you want me »: pretty self-explanatory. But yeah. I feel like Linh can « turn off » the fear and stress of a crush, of not knowing, and just let hope in her heart.

« It’s not in my nature to walk away ». It is not. Linh has been forced to move away, to walk away. And now that she is back in the Lost Cities, she knows what she wants, and she won’t renounce unless she absolutely has to. Valid for everything. Crush, grades, friends, missions. Everything.

« I can replace the boys she dates »: that’s insomnia middle of the night reflection on the crush from Linh. Before the confession of course. I perfectly picture our Hydrokinesist laying in bed, staring at the ceiling, doing scenarios, imagining how she could make Marella fall for her.

« Swear I’m not afraid, of a force of nature »: Linh used to be afraid of anything of strength, mainly of her own ability. That’s what triggered Tam’s protectiveness. But now… She isn’t afraid anymore. She became curious, now that she has security.

« Until she breathes »: yeah. That girl here? She’s impressive.

« “Hey, I’ve toyed with faith” »: sorry, this is such a Marella’s sentence. Cause she always does that. Coming where interesting things happen. Sharing rumors and gossip. Asking for her Ability to be unlocked.

« “I’ve strung up hearts” ». Isn’t that canon? That Marella is in the « breaking hearts on a regular basis » club? Iirc, she said at one point she rejected a few boys before…

« Cut loose the stars, so you’ll believe »: that’s the « Rewrite the stars » vibe. They have it as a lesbian couple. In the Lost Cities. Where there’s the matchmaking system. Which is thought, at least partially, to give birth more powerful elves. So gay couples? Yeah I feel like that’s bad match guaranteed. And that’s Marella re-assuring Linh, after confession, and Linh is worried, but Firegirl tells her that’ll be ok, she can believe.

« You’re the force that’s driving me! »: both. They find energy and fulfillment in each other’s company, they find joy together, which is something they rarely had



[bloody-bee-tea]

Tiny Bee~k 2023 Day 3 - Roots

Alhaitham watches as Cyno leaves his office. He’s leaving the city too, his next mission taking him out into the desert, probably for several days.

Alhaitham bites back a sigh.

He wants to call out for Cyno, wants to tell him to not go or at the very least return safely, but he knows it for the irrational urge it is. Cyno doesn’t have the luxury to stay; his job is calling him away and he’s following that call, forever duty-bound. Asking him to return safely would just be like asking him to lie to Alhaitham, because despite how good and careful Cyno is, there is no way he can promise that.

And so Alhaitham stays quiet and simply watches Cyno leave.

It’s not the first time and it won’t be the last time and Alhaitham would do well to get used to this.

He needs to, even after he lays down the title of Acting Grand Sage because Cyno will continue to be the General Mahamatra and he will continue to leave. And hopefully return but neither is something Alhaitham can influence in any meaningful way.

Alhaitham doubts that even if Cyno should lay down his title he would stay in one place for long; Cyno is not build that way, unlike Alhaitham.

Alhaitham has his roots in the city; he has his house, his job, his friends. He is a creature of habit, so this suits him quite well. Cyno on the other hand is like the sand in the desert; always moving, always shifting. It’s almost impossible to find the same grain of sand twice in the desert and sometimes it feels the same with Cyno.

He’s not fundamentally different every time he comes back from the desert, but it always feels as if something shifted in him, no matter how small.

Cyno certainly seems happier the day after a return from the desert and Alhaitham knows how much the term desert-dweller is hated, but Cyno can’t deny it.

He comes from the desert and Alhaitham would guess that if he could never return to it then he would simply waste away. It’s too much a part of him.

Cyno is long gone by now and Alhaitham finally allows himself the sigh that’s so stubbornly stuck in his throat.

Cyno is always leaving and he always will be. That’s not something Alhaitham can change nor would he even want to. It wouldn’t be Cyno anymore without that innate urge to return to the desert, after all, but there are days—like today—where it’s unreasonable hard to see him go.

Alhaitham blames the lovey-dovey couple who blocked his way in the hallway earlier.

They had no problem to express their affection for the other; something that Alhaitham will never be able to do, not if he wants Cyno to remain as he is.

He suspects that Cyno feels the same as he does; has seen the looks and noticed the sometimes lingering if fleeting touches. But still, Alhaitham can’t say it, can’t confess to Cyno because that would be akin to chaining him down and Alhaitham would have him free and happy and unbound by anything rather than tied to his side and unhappy.

“Acting Grand Sage?”

Alhaitham is not proud to admit it but he might have forgotten that there are currently other people in his office.

“Yes?” he replies and hope that their fear of him makes them refrain from asking inane questions.

“Candace from Aaru Village is requesting your presence,” the assistant says and puts a letter down in front of him.

Alhaitham scans it quickly; it doesn’t seem to be urgent, just a simple wish to show off the progress made so far and Alhaitham nods.

“Schedule a trip for when the General Mahamatra is back. I want him to accompany me,” he decides, because Cyno deserves to see their hard work pay off as well.

And if that means stealing some time together with him in an environment that allows Cyno to be happy, then no one has to know that.

~*~*~

It takes Cyno eight days to return from his mission and even though he looks tired and worn, he’s smiling in that tiny way of his that gentles the usually so stoic edges of his face.

Alhaitham aches to see it and his fingers tingle with the urge to reach out for him.

He puts his hands on his desk, instead.

“Welcome back. I trust everything went well?”

He scans Cyno for signs of injury and nods, satisfied, when he can’t find any.

“Everything went well,” Cyno agrees, sliding his headgear of his head, clearly done with being the General Mahamatra for at least that moment.

“I’m glad to hear it.” Alhaitham is sure that he will have a fully written report on his desk early tomorrow morning, so he doesn’t bother to ask after any details for now. Instead he slides Candace’s letter over his desk. “There is no rush with this, but I would like for you to accompany me. Preferably in the next few days, but take however many days you need to rest.”

Cyno’s eyes narrow at his request and his expression only clears up after he read the letter.

“We can leave tomorrow,” he decides and he seems honestly excited about it.

Truly a grain of sand who belongs in the desert, Alhaitham thinks, quite wistfully if he would admit that to himself.

“You can take some time to rest,” he gives back, unwilling to push Cyno.

“I’m not tired,” Cyno protests even as Alhaitham raises an eyebrow at him. “Truly. The track was easy. The inane babbling of the researcher, that was exhausting, but I know you will be a much better conversation partner. We can leave as soon as you cleared your schedule. I’ll need to check in with Aarav but I trust that you would have found a way to contact me if there were any pressing matters.”

“Of course I would have,” Alhaitham agrees and Cyno nods, clearly not expecting anything else.

“Then we can leave early tomorrow? Aaru Village is not that far, we should reach it by nightfall, the morning after at the latest.”

“You’re eager to leave the city again,” Alhaitham notes, once again validated in his assessment of Cyno.

Cyno simply shrugs.

“I haven’t seen Candace in a while and I’d like to see how far our projects have come.”

It makes sense; Candace and Cyno are good friends and after years of being suppressed and shunned it’s only natural that Cyno would want to see his people flourish.

“Tomorrow morning it is,” Alhaitham decides.

The appointments he had made for the next several days will simply have to deal, he decides.

~*~*~

Alhaitham isn’t proud of it, but he purposefully slows them down so considerably that they don’t have another choice than to find a place to spend the night.

They have just passed the Yashna Monument when night falls and Caraban Rivat is still too far out to make it in the dark.

“We best settle down for the night,” Cyno says with a critical glance up at the sky, where the first stars are already blinking.

“I would agree,” Alhaitham gives back and busies himself with setting his things down.

They have travelled lightly, Cyno clearly not expecting them to spend one night outside but Alhaitham has no problems with making the forest ground his bed for one night.

He knows that Cyno doesn’t mind it either, but Alhaitham can tell that Cyno has questions. Alhaitham is not an accomplished fighter like Cyno is but he’s also very far off from being the feeble scholar he claims to be and even taking into account that he’s not quite as well versed to traveling as Cyno, they should have easily made it to Caraban Rivat, or even Aaru Village like Cyno predicted.

“What is going on?” Cyno asks once they set up a little fire and Alhaitham shrugs.

It’s no use to feign ignorance, Cyno is much too sharp for that but it also wouldn’t do to tell the truth.

A convincible half-truth, then.

“I don’t get to spend much time traveling. I wanted to take my time, enjoy it.”

“You could have said,” Cyno chides him. “We could have packed accordingly. But I didn’t take the Acting Grand Sage as someone who likes to dilly-dally.”

“Well, the Acting Grand Sage might not, but I do. If the circumstances allow for it and make it enjoyable, then I don’t see the harm in it.”

Alhaitham is acutely aware of the way Cyno’s eyes bore into the side of his head, but he keeps his gaze on the fire.

There’s a beat of silence before Cyno speaks again.

“Alhaitham, are you ever going to say something?” he asks and Alhaitham’s heart throbs in his chest.

“I don’t know what you mean,” he says, even though he knows it’s futile. He just didn’t expect this topic to come up here and now and he needs to buy a little bit of time for his racing thoughts to calm down.

He chooses to ignore his racing heart.

Cyno gives him a look, not even pretending to believe Alhaitham and instead he ruthlessly goes on.

“I know it’s mutual,” Cyno mutters and Alhaitham scoffs.

“Then it’s hardly just me not saying something, is it?”

“Your aversion of this topic is very clear, even to the untrained eye and I’m hardly that. I know you don’t want to say anything. I just don’t understand your reasoning. So tell me why.”

Alhaitham knows that Cyno must have noticed that he has a hard time denying Cyno anything if he asks for it, so he appreciates this way out he leaves him but now that the topic is out in the open, Alhaitham finds himself compelled to answer.

“You’re of the desert,” he says and Cyno’s confusion is immediate.

“So?” he asks, a slight challenge in his voice and Alhaitham only belatedly realises how this must sound to him.

“I’m not—I didn’t mean it like that.” He is certain that the both of them can still hear the whispered—and sometimes not so much whispered—calls of ‘desert-dweller’ that followed Cyno through most of his time as a student at the Akademiya and Alhaitham wants to smack himself in the face.

“Then how did you mean it?”

Alhaitham takes a deep breath to bring his thoughts in order. He hadn’t realised how difficult it would be to put this into words with Cyno staring at him like this.

“You are of the desert. It’s a part of you and you need to return to it. You’re unhappy if you don’t.”

“That is not wrong. I fail to see how this explains your reluctance, though.”

“How can I ask you to stay if living in the city would wear you down?” Alhaitham whispers, still remembering how happy and settled Cyno had looked yesterday when he returned from his trip. How eager he had been to leave again. “You’re happier when you return from the desert.”

“I am happier when I return because it means I get to see you again,” Cyno says, his voice barely audible over the crackling of the fire. “Alhaitham, did it never occur to you that you confessing your feelings to me wouldn’t be asking me to stay, it would mean asking me to come back to you?”

“But you can’t even promise that, can you?” Alhaitham asks, trying his best to keep the bitterness at bay.

The desert’s calling will always be stronger than whatever he could say and the dangers there are always unpredictable.

“I could promise to always do my utmost to return to you. The desert isn’t my home, and neither is the city. Places don’t hold that much weight for me. My home is with the people I love; with Tighnari and Collei in Ghandarva Ville, with Candace in Aaru Village, with Dehya and whatever part of the desert she finds herself in, with Kaveh in a bar and a house he refuses to call home. And with you.”

Alhaitham finally finds the courage to look at Cyno at that last part.

“The city can be my home if it has you in it. Just like the desert can if you decide to take a day-long trip and stretch it to two. Or three. Who knows what you’re capable of.”

There’s a teasing smile around Cyno’s mouth and this time when Alhaitham’s finger itch with the need to reach out, he doesn’t hold back. He cups Cyno’s cheek in his hand, trailing his thumb over the corner of his mouth and he marvels at the way Cyno leans into the contact.

“You could trace that with something else too, you know,” Cyno whispers but he doesn’t give Alhaitham time to figure out the meaning of his words before he leans in and steals a kiss for himself.

“Ask me to come home to you,” he whispers when they part and Alhaitham finds himself unable to tear his eyes away from him.

“I love you,” he says, his voice matched to Cyno’s and when he sees how Cyno’s eyes crinkle at the corners, he can’t help but to smile too.

“See, that wasn’t so hard, now, was it?” Cyno teases him and kisses the corner of his mouth. “I will always try my hardest to come back to you,” Cyno gives back and Alhaitham hears it for the ‘I love you’ that it is.

And he will put his faith into that promise.

[cat-fried-fiend]

trans Techno SBI fanfic part 3

here's part 3 :)

also I included Dream and Tubbo in this (this is all just characters idk whats going on with any content creates lol)

< part 2 & part 4>

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

Wilbur hates being awake before one in the afternoon on a weekend. Ideally, he’d choose to also wake at this time during the week too but for some reason society deems that lazy and unproductive. Today is a Sunday. A day which is resoundingly agreed to be known as the weekend but somehow Wilbur still finds himself wide awake before the clock even hits eight A.M.

It started with him going to get water and finding Techno in the bathroom. It’s just spiraled from there. Wilbur isn’t entirely certain he knows what’s going on, but he can hazard a guess and it doesn’t seem great. From what he can gather, he should leave Techno alone. Phil tells him as much before he’s racing out of the door and telling him to look after Tommy. Which is the reason why he is currently wide awake. Because for some reason, Tommy, who’d been woken up by Phil leaving, is hellbent on talking to Techno.

“Is he sick or something?” the kid pouts, small arms crossed in irritation.

“Yeah, something like that, just leave him alone,” he responds. Wilbur’s been forced to drag Tommy to his room, just to keep the kid from causing trouble. But Tommy doesn’t appear to have enjoyed Wilbur throwing him over his shoulder. Nor did he seem to enjoy getting tossed onto Wilbur’s messy bed and wrapped in a grip tight enough to keep him from escaping. Tommy wriggles in Wilbur’s grasp, scowling harder at his older brother.

“Then we should help him” Tommy argues loudly and Wilbur winces.

“Dad said to leave him be.”

“But Dad always helps us when we’re sick-”

Wilbur sighs, already exhausted from the day even though he hasn’t been awake for more than fifteen minutes yet.

“Look Tommy, just leave him be, he’s fine. You know Techno likes his space.”

Tommy huffs in suspicion, but finally relaxes enough that Wilbur deems it safe enough to let the kid free.

“How about I let you watch one of those episodes of that show dad doesn’t want you watching-”

Tommy’s eyes brighten gleefully. A smirk curls on Wilbur’s face, Phil’s going to be so pissed. Well, that’s what his dad gets for waking him up and forcing him to deal with Tommy on two hours of sleep. And for not letting Quackity come over when he’d asked.

One bloody, violent, existential episode of tv later Tommy’s small hands are clutching tightly to his shirt, and Wilbur finally hears the front door opening. Their house is silent enough that the sound of multiple shuffling footsteps echoes up the stairs. Wilbur wonders who else Phil picked up besides Puffy. He doubts its Quackity. Still, he’s curious.

While Phil and Puffy have a muffled conversation behind the closed door of Phil’s office and Techno is still showering, Wilbur and Tommy slink down the stairs. Apparently, Tommy’s forgotten all about what he’d just seen and enthusiastically joins Wilbur’s investigation. Searching the kitchen and living room provides no one and the two brothers creep down the hallway towards the den. Excited giggles are quickly strangled but neither Wilbur nor Tommy can fight the conspiratorial grins that spread across their faces.

The den appears undisturbed when they reach it. The wide windows on the far wall let in the golden light and it splashes on the menagerie of comfortable furniture Phil’s collected. Nothing seems out of place, the blankets are still piled haphazardly about, the books still left open on the side tables. So, Wilbur nearly decides to investigate somewhere else. But then he spies something peeking out from the top of the couch that’s facing away from them. Carefully, Wilbur sneaks forward. Rounding the couch, feet near silent on the rug, his mind stutters to a stop. What he sees is…. unexpected. Behind him, Tommy peers at the couch, face scrunching up with confusion.

“What’re you doing on our couch?” Tommy demands, shattering the peaceful atmosphere. It also startles awake the two sheep hybrids who had been sleeping on the couch. The smaller one rolls onto the floor with a yelp. Then the taller one leaps upward into a wide stance, scanning the room wildly, a ferocious expression on his face.

“Huh- wha’s goin’ on?” a the smaller one asks in a sleepy voice. The kid, Wilbur’s certain he’s a kid since he is about Tommy’s size, pushes off the floor and rubs at his eyes.

“What are you doing on our couch?” Tommy repeats, glaring at the strangers, faced drawn into what he believes is an intimidating expression.

The taller one narrows his eyes at them, standing protectively in front of the kid. There’s an obvious tenseness about him, one that Wilbur’s seen on Techno many times before. Realizing this, Wilbur quickly changes his stance to appear as non-threatening as possible.

“It’s fine that you’re here,” he assures while staring at the taller hybrid, “we just didn’t know there were other people here.”

The taller one scowls and crosses his arms. “Our cousin dragged us here,” he spits out.

“Oh, Puffy’s your cousin?” Wilbur asks, surprised. He didn’t even know she had any family, let alone ones near his age. But it’s understandable, Wilbur now clearly detects the relation between their faces. The taller one looks maybe a little older than Techno with fluffy blonde hair and curled horns like Puffy though they are significantly smaller. In contrast the younger one has tiny little horns that barely poke out of the dark brown hair that sits in a wild mess on his head. Wilbur doesn’t find that adorable, he doesn’t!

“Yeah, she’s helping that blonde guy who visited.” The younger one answers through a yawn, climbing back onto the couch and flopping down.

Yawning, Wilbur nods tiredly. Fuck, he needs to sleep but he ignores the way his eyes ache and finally introduces himself.

“I’m Wilbur and-”

“I’m Tommy, the biggest man here-” his brother proudly interrupts.

“-And the man was our dad, Phil.”

“I’m Tubbo and he’s Dream” the younger cousin mumbles, half awake. The older cousin, Dream, Wilbur supposes, flashes Tubbo a look of annoyance.

“It’s nice to meet you, I wasn’t aware Puffy had any other family.” Wilbur says, slumping down into one of the plush armchairs near the fireplace. From this vantage he can face Puffy’s cousins on the couch while keeping an eye out for his dad.

“She doesn’t.” Dream states forcefully, relaxing enough to sit back down next to Tubbo.

“Are you two brothers?” Tommy asks excitedly, jumping onto the couch on Tubbo’s free side and making the kid jolt wide awake. Maybe Wilbur should do more to wrangle Tommy in but he’s finding it difficult to have empathy this early in the morning.

“Yeah…” And then Tubbo quickly devolves into a long explanation about the intricacies of his sibling relationship which Wilbur rapidly loses track of.

Somehow Tommy, the annoyance and pain in his ass (who Wilbur loves dearly), has charmed Tubbo enough that in ten minutes the two are best friends. Dream still sits there with his arms crossed, looking uncomfortable next to the excitement of his brother and Tommy. But Wilbur supposes it’s more out of social anxiety than feeling threatened. He lets Dream be, understanding his hesitation. Instead, Wilbur chooses to listen to Tubbo and Tommy chatter on while messaging Quackity a picture of him flipping off the camera. Of course, the other takes the bait and Wilbur is suddenly getting a request to video chat. One five-second, internal freak out later, Wilbur answers with a smirk that only grows when he hears enraged shouting quietly blaring from his speaker. After a minute of pure ranting, Quackity pauses and studies the camera,

“What’re you doing out of your bedroom this early?”

A blush dusts Wilbur’s cheeks, “I had to babysit Tommy and now his new best friend Tubbo.” He turns the camera to face the couch, snickering at the children chasing each other around it.

“Wait is that…. is that Dream?”

“You know Dream?” Wilbur asks in a hushed whisper, turning his camera back to himself. Quackity laughs at the confused expression Wilbur’s wearing.

“Oh…. Yeah, not well but he started tagging along with my old friends once I moved. I didn’t know he had a brother though.” Theres a pixelated shrug on Wil’s screen and he snorts out a laugh.

“Do you want to talk with him?”

Quackity shrugs again. “Sure, if you’re offering-”

“Ok, hold on.”

Unfolding himself from where he’d pretzeled himself in the armchair, Wilbur paces over to the couch, slumping down beside Dream who startles nearly as much as his brother earlier. Without warning Wilbur shoves his phone in front of Dream and turns up his volume.

“Hey Dream!” Quackity greets, waving energetically. 

“…Hey Quackity,” A confused glare has settled on Dream’s face as he glances between Wilbur and his phone.

“How are Sapnap and George doing?”

“…. fine, I think,” Dream says carefully, “but I haven’t seen them in a few months.”

“Oh… that’s good, I guess. I haven’t seen them in a while either. The last time I did, they convinced me to play last life-”

“They let you play it?” Dream scoffs, frown seeping deeper onto his face, “they wouldn’t even explain it to me.”

“That’s probably because I ended up accidentally breaking Sapnap’s nose.” Quackity replies with a slight grin and Wilbur doesn’t know if he’s bragging about it or feeling guilty.

Dream rolls his eyes, “Of course, you were the one who ruined it-”

“What’s last life?” Wilbur interrupts before this devolves into an all-out fight, looking between a scowling Dream and a gleeful Quackity.

“It’s this game that’s like a blend between last man standing-” Dream begins to perk up, intrigued, as Quackity divulges the coveted information, “-the floor is lava, and capture the flag. There’s like all these rules we came up with but mainly it was an excuse to try and punch each other. I don’t think George really liked it.”

Dream snorts, “that’s ‘cause he didn’t like playing with you. He would definitely like it if I got to play.”

Quackity cackles loudly, “When I come over, I can show you how to play, Wil-” “No,” Dream interjects, voice hard, eyes blazing with the intensity of a troop commander before an upcoming battle, “we’re playing it right now.”

[bloodletterepicness]

The Night After...

There was a sound, then another one and still yet more came…First off who the fuck was in my space and second, how the hell did they get in. It took more time than it should have for me to realize that the noises were coming from me. A ragged groan rolled off my dry blooded lips and I turned my head, only to have the roughness of the rock carved altar to scrape over my face. 

“Fucking hell…”

I was half hazardly spread out, arms and legs hanging off the sides, and It took a moment to drag myself up to some type of sitting position. Alright, one step at a time, and that thought had me wanting to say ‘fuck it’ and lay right back down. I can admit, last night I took it beyond my own boundaries. Not that I regretted it for one fucking second. 

“Yeah, I will get on my feet. It’s going to happen.”

My head was shaking in denial and then I was reclining back until I was once again stretched out, but this time, not in some puzzle looking display. Although every part of my six foot eight frame was feeling the shitty sleeping position. I’d have to work that out in the Gym, add a better kind of abuse to my body, or go in search of a fight. Either one will work, later I will decide. Right now I couldn’t manage to talk myself into staying upright any longer than a few minutes. 

‘I guess if you were going to splinter yourself apart, this is as good as any other place to do it.’

So there was someone else with me, and without a doubt that voice was as familiar to me as any of my Brothers.

“Fuck you.”

One icy eye slid open and I tried to train in on the giant. 

‘I love you too, Brother.’

I started to roll and that’s where I fucked up. I clearly over estimated my size and that of the rock I was stretched out on, because I felt everything shift and falling started to happen. Then there were some rushed words from the King right as he snatched me up just before I made contact with the ground. I landed on the larger than life vampire with a few grunts and groans.

“Well that didn’t go as planned. Shall we try that again?”

I was rewarded with some snark and being hefted up as if I weighed no more than a sack of flour.

“I really hate you right now.”

He was laughing at me, even in my stupor I could hear it in his tone.

‘Don’t worry, I doubt you will recall much of this.’

I tried to shrug my shoulders, ya know being all nonchalant and shit, but that move didn’t work out for me so well. Because just then Wrath decided to drag my arm around the back of his neck and I almost went down again. 

‘And if you don’t stop, I will leave your ass on these stone steps and let the rats have their naughty way with you.’

My head snapped up and there was a solid form of the King, as well as a really fucking blurring one.

“I think I need glasses. You should do something about that for me.”

That brought on some more laughs while we continued our trek up the stairway and down to the winding tunnels. 

‘I think you need to sleep for a week. I pay attention more than you are aware, Vishous.’

That had my shitkickers coming to a full stop and I snorted at my brother.

“That goes both ways, but don’t go there.”

I ended that with a nod, drug my arm back, letting it fall to my side and I looked down the long hall.

“Why do we need so much fucking space?”

Wrath just chuckled as he walked beside me. I knew he was doing that watching me closely and for once it wasn’t an annoyance.

‘Shut the hell up and stop your bitching. This wouldn’t be a problem if you had not decided to get trashed in the caverns, but here we fucking are.’

There was a rebuttal on the tip of my tongue but I was mentally drained and it jumped ship when I saw The Pit’s door come into view. My bed was just on the other side of it, as well as my amazing shower that I wanted to get in, blast it on, burn your skin off the bone level and stretch out on the oversized bench seat. Those blissful thoughts were spinning through my not so clear skull when we stalled for the final time and Wrath opened the door.

‘Fritz has set you up with everything you might need, between the fridge and your bedroom.’

I nodded again and started to turn on my feet, with all intention to head inside but suddenly a thought slammed through my head and I couldn’t move. I lost it…I knew I had! What the fuck. NO. I could find it. It had to be in the caves, but what if I had set it to blaze?...Fuck.

‘Don’t worry, Vishous it’s safely tucked right where you put it.’

He laid a larger than life hand on my chest, right over the pocket covering my five chamber heart and patted the area. My mouth opened, and I was having one of those gulping for air moments with no words coming out. Soberness set in at break neck speed and I gave the male a quick hug before exiting and slamming the door behind me.

[luminouslollies]

Ok, I suck at this kind of loooooooooong post and I hate spamming. But, come on, I was going to drown in my own jumbled thoughts if I didn't mention this to anyone!

I made that post up there half joking and half not. I was hoping that in the future someone, purely by chance, would take the idea and execute it well. And… well, right now I decided to make some additions out of boredom and ended up developing this faster than the TvBucket crap I'm doing for AO3.

First: I'm taking as my main base the most complete draft available (Charlie's Chocolate Boy, from '61 or so). You know: The Vanilla-Fudge Room, The Warming-Candy Room, Black Charlie, Easter Room, etc.

It's an AU, not a carbon copy of what Roald Dahl came up with. Initially, I wanted Charlie to have just a cameo, but the truth is, I liked the scheme that included him much better. I don't want to give him a bad demeanor per se. His situation is more dire than in the final book, and I suppose he would be so dazzled by the factory that he would act foolishly or on impulse. Something like the Mike of '71.

Second: what I did decide is that none of the brats are the ones in the final version, nor are their beta versions too similar. I plan to bring Marvin Prune into this, but I didn't want to use a famous version or the possible “canonical” version that ended up being the Miranda Mary Piker we saw in “Spotty Powder”. I was watching “Rocky Horror Live” (2015) today, and…. I guess I liked Eddie too much? (originality is not my forte and that sucks, I know). Anyway, I want to leave him with the ego by which most identify him. I may include some characteristics of the Broadway Mike. He's a cool guy, but I don't recommend hanging out with him.

I think what I enjoyed developing the most is the contest. In these drafts, you may already know that Mr. Wonka sent 10 tickets for a weekly run, I think on Saturday. I assume that the kids who found a ticket during the course of that week would get in, and this was because everyone was crazy to get into the factory.

There is one detail that I added and it is fascinating to me how it turned out: there is a high probability that not all golden tickets will be found by Saturday. If you find one during or after Saturday, even if you stumble upon last week's when the next week has started, you can still personally go to the factory and “redeem” it for a free supply of candy that will last you about a month.

Besides, it's a local contest, and this is a small town. Almost everyone will already know each other when the time comes. There are a few additions such as no child seems to have any flaws until something along the way brings them to light; i.e., something similar to how no one's name was mentioned until they got in trouble. And there are no interviews or anything like that, so Wonka doesn't know them and doesn't plan anything, and surely their behaviors take him by surprise… at least at first. And as the tour progresses, the rooms become progressively less “flashy”. Compare the Chocolate Room to the Warming-Candy Room, for example.

By the way, if it's weekly visits, can we say there have already been accidents? Check this out: at school, Charlie hears rumors about a girl who has supposedly turned blue and moved away. This could be funnier but I don't have the head for it. Oh, right: Wonka has a son and I don't want the nine-story candy store ending, so Charlie has it pretty tough (ups).

While I'll try to create flashy personalities for certain characters, or keep them with other names, I simply (also) suck at names, so I'll just use the pre-existing ones. Aside from that, I'm having trouble with gender balance. I have eight children and only two are female. Maybe I'll look for a beta reader in the future, but frankly I don't have much faith in this.

Anyway, I'm still more or less on this and, if anyone wants to… I don't know, adopt the concept, that's fine with me.

[yeonmuse]

LIP GLOSS & SECRETS OF SUMMER Eric Sohn

Chapter 7 | Full Chapter Log

🐚 Surfer Eric x oc

🐚 genre | college au| summer love | slow burn| mature topics | strangers to lovers | minor love triangle

🐚 summary | Upon arriving at her new university Park Naokei finds herself falling into a world of chaos as drama unfolds with her new found friends. By the time summer break arrives newfound feelings and crushes spark amists the summer fun. Slowly our oc finds herself trapped between the likes of two guys and it all started with her occasional swimming lessons from the one and only Eric Sohn.

🐚 word count | 2.2K

🐚 important details ; Nzeka Park (neh- zeh- ka) is our main character. known as Nezza by those she calls friends while her close family calls her NeNe . Her father passed away when she was fifteen leaving her with her stepmother who she believes absolutely hates her guts. The girl has two younger siblings, both boys with the youngest being four his name is Aiki short for aikime while the oldest being eight his name was Juni, she also has an older sister named Kiome that moved away to America when she turned eighteen. Park Naokei is twenty and has a huge scar on the back of her thigh from an accident her family had long ago when she was only 5. Though she doesn't know how to swim, She's in love with the ocean and has been fascinated by it since she was a child.

Final authors notes: this is a multipart series with more that 20+ parts, there are few mature topics like death mentions and slight angst topics. Other than that this series is full of somer vibes and playful moments between our characters. For those reading thank you so much for coming along this ride even if at some point you stop reading.

Despite Nao absolutely hating parties she allowed Yeosang to talk her and Sooah into going to one. Realizing that the only reason she hated them was because usually any party she had attended had been forced upon her by her stepmother and it was always people in their mid forties or older. She realized that once her father passed away and she was left alone with her stepmother she had deprived herself of a true teen experience.

"You know I never expected this place to have any fraternities but i guess i was wrong?" Nao spoke absent mindedly as she searched through her closet for something to wear.

"Honestly there never were any until freshman year. Thats when The boyz decided they'd buy some random ass house on the other side of the lake on campus and just make it a party house. They knew none of their parents would approve so they call it the fraternity house as a cover up." Sooah explains as she scrolls through her phone.

"The boyz??"

"Oh right, you haven't really run into any of them yet aside from Eric yesterday. The boyz are the universities golden boys and only frat. Not only are they the most wealthy but the most well known around here. Theres Sohn Youngjae, but you know him as Eric, Kim Sunwoo, Kevin Moon, Jacob Bae, Ju Haknyeon, Ji Changmin, Lee Sangyeon, Kim Younghoon, Lee Jae Hyun though he goes by Hyunjae, Lee Juyeon and Choi Chanhee. Every one of their parents are filthy rich and on the schools board of education, well except for Eric his parents are back in LA." Naos mouth immediately hung open as she listed out nearly fifteen names.

"Okay am I losing it or did you just name eleven different guys without stopping for air, actually im amazed that you could remember that many." Nao turns giving her a look of amazement while Sooah simply shrugs it off.

"Anyways theyre the ones that throw all the parties and events here during the semesters. Otherwise parties are free game during breaks." Sooah adds before throwing her phone onto the bed.

"You know for a girl that never left her house and has never been to any parties your styles unmatched." Sooah watched as her newfound friend exits the closet in all black apparel. Nao had always been someone that was comfortable with her body once she had stopped caring about the opinions of others. Back in Elementary and middle school she had gotten harassed and bullied for so long for her scar that she had after her mothers accident. It had been so bad then that she had been self conscience about herself, but as she got older agree started caring less and loving half more. Which only meant she wasn't afraid to show off what she had and  play around with her style.

"Oh please lets not act like you don't have the fashion of a high class super model." Nao retorts making both her and Sooah burst out in laughter

________

As they arrived at the party; fashionably late of course, there had already been crowds of people outside the house. Luckily for her it wasn't too many people, most of the guests were outside dancing and drinking while anyone inside the house had been smoking weed or playing games. Uno in one corner, cards in another, board games on the couch and beer pong in the dinning room. She had never expected for a party thrown by all 'rich brats' as Seonghwa called them to be this calm.

"Well look who decided to show her face after eight months." A tall guy who she recognized from that day at the pool spoke as he stood in front of them. His eyes focused on Sooah who just stood there with a blank look on her face. Naos eyes moved back and forth from Sooah to him, there was some sort of tension there and she wasn't sure as to why.

______

"Hey isn't that the one Eric saved from drowning three days ago? The one talking to Hyunjae." Sunwoo one of Erics friends spoke up as she watched the two talk to his other friend.

"And shes with Sooah." Juyeon steps up, throwing his arm over Erics shoulder. 

"Did I miss something? He still likes Sooah?" Changmin chimes in poking his head out in front of the two.

"Damn right he still likes her or else he wouldn't be avoiding her still." Kevin chimes in, all of their mindless banter earning a groan from Eric who had remained silent the entire time.

"I do not like her, we just grew apart. It happens." Eric shrugs before removing Juyeons hand from his shoulder and turning back to join their other friends. Meanwhile the rest of them watch the interaction between Hyunjae and the two girls.

____________

"Um did you want something?" Nao decides to step in realizing Sooah had yet to respond.

"Ah its the pool girl, you're the one Eric saved right?"

"Enough hyunjae no point in flirting or talking their ears off none of them are showing interest in you." Eric teases him as he makes his way over to the three of them.

"Nice to see you again starfish."

"Starfish?" Hyunjae chuckles as he looks between the two.

"I guess it's nice to see you as well." She responds sarcastically which only makes him laugh.

Out of the corner of her eye she could sense Sooah tensing up even more.

"A few of us are gonna play beer pong if you're interested." Eric responds while showing the red cup he held in his hand.

"Actually i think we're just gonna."

"I'm gonna look for Yeosang." Sooah suddenly blurts out causing Nao to immediately turn and look at her out of shock.

"Go Nao. You're here to meet new people and make new friends join them." Sooah didn't give her any time to argue. As she watched the girl open her mouth to say something she immediately pushed Nao over to where Hyunjae and Eric stood.

"Well i guess I will be playing." She says under her breath before looking at the two of them.

"Let's make this fast."

She wasn't expecting to have a good time playing with them. Truth be told when she first stood at the table in front of all of them it made her stomach turn. She would have rather just argued to stay with Sooah. She felt most comfortable with her and Yeosang. As minutes went by she found herself loosening up after having poured half a drink or two. Then those two turned into 5 as her team slowly but surely began to lose the game. When she was finally near a win there was a sudden commotion from the left side of the house in what she assumed to be the kitchen.

They all shared a glance before the group ran into the kitchen, Nao made it a priority to push through the crowd as she heard yelling. The scene she saw before her made her blood boil. Sooah stood there, her dress soaked in what she could only assume to be alcohol.

"She tried to hit on me or something!" A random girl yelled as she held a now half empty cup in her hands.

"Yoona she only asked you where the cups were." A guy who she assumed to be the yoona girls friend chimes in defending Sooah.

"Whatever! She was probably just looking for an excuse to talk to me."

Nao immediately rolls up her sleeves and steps in goes to step in front of Sooah.

"Usually I wouldn't involve myself in childish games but I think you're just a lifeless bitch looking for attention. Since I don't like to cause a scene I'll be polite and not give you the ass whoopin you're so desperately asking for, but insult her again and I'll give you a real reason to cause a scene." The anger in her voice was evident as she spoke.

"Oh and by the way you aren't even her type...." Nao adds, looking the girl up and down as she stood there embarrassed. Pushing past the crowd of onlookers she takes Sooah along with her entering the first door in the hallway she found. Thinking it was a bathroom she entered only to find that it was a bedroom, but at the moment that didn't matter.

A sigh spilled from Sooahs lips as she looked at her feet. "You didn't have to help me..."

"I could tell that something has been bothering you from the moment we walked in, you're my friend i'm not going to sit by and let her be a bitch to you." Nao defends which earns a laugh from Sooah.

"Even after hearing what she said? Im sure by now you've had heard the rumors from someone." Sooah responds and Naos chest tightened immediately

"Yes, I have but why believe the rumors when I can get the truth from the source?" At her sentence Sooah finally looked at her with what looked to be shock in her eyes and for a moment she remained silent until finally she let the tears come falling down.

"I loved her. Jeong Jinsoul."

"Jinsoul??!? The one that asked out Yeosang?" Nao exclaims out of shock.

"That was the first day I met her. Yeosang not knowing what to say when she confessed made things awkward and embarrassing for the both of them so she ended up running away not wanting to show her face that day. That was when I met her, I had been at the lake after a guest star on a show. Just thinking about what life would have been like if I wasn't in the public eye all the time. She came there and I don't know we got really close. For months we would meet with each other, the university parking tower, at the lake, late night cafes. We had been seeing each other for so long that it made me realize I had feelings for her but...the night I asked her to be my girlfriend I lost everything." Her voice cracked as she retold the story of her and Jinsoul to someone for the first time.

"Two days after she said yes to being my girlfriend articles got out. My mother forced me to stay away from her, we both became distant and everyone just avoided me. What hurt most of all was Eric.." Sooah choked out as she tries to hold back her tears but failed miserably

"Eric? What does he have to do with this?"

"We were friends...I met him Senior year in high school and since then we were best friends..but when the articles were published he became distant as well and the others were still around but it all hurt so much that i stopped going out and they became distant as well...its why I didn't know what to say to Hyunjae. I never know what to say to them. I felt alone, Eric just abandoned me...I didn't care about the other shallow assholes or bitches here avoiding me but having them avoid me and losing Jinsoul was too much i felt alone."

Nao didn't know what to say that would make her feel better, so she decided to reveal something that allowed them both to be sad together.

"I know how it feels...feeling alone."she pauses letting out a deep breath after realizing the tears had already began forming before she spoke.

"I was five years old when I lost my mother. My mom, my dad and I were at the aquarium when it happened. It was a new exhibit but they rushed the opening. The foundations weren't sturdy and so-." She gets choked up as she shared the story for the first time in years.

"The glass burst and while my dad was able to get me out..my mom..my mom didn't make it. While Me and my dad made it out i didn't get out unscathed, one of the glass fragments cut deep into my thigh, Still have the scar to prove it. I got teased for it up until the age of 14. Then id get into fights anytime someone mentioned the scar or my mom. My dad had such a rough time. For a long time the only person that I had was my sister...then my dad got remarried and of course they had kids and with them I was happy to have my siblings, they mean the world to me. Then the right when i thought that I could possibly be happy with them..the worst happened, my dad passed away and my sister moved overseas and I was truly alone." She couldn't stop the tears from streaming down at the point. For a while the girls cried together and sat in silence. When the two finally looked at each other all they could do was laugh.

"I agree to going to a party for you and Yeosang and we both end up a crying mess." The two of them laugh as they wiped their face and hugged one another.

🫗୧ ‧₊˚ 🍸 ⋅

[casspurrjoybell-22]

The Art of Sin - Chapter 12 - Part 2

•Keon Lynch (Dragonborn Descendant)

•Tate Solomon (Warlock)

*Warning Adult Content*

I knew Noir was watching me, I felt his gaze on my body and I enjoyed it.

I think I enjoyed Noir in general though.

His reactions were cute and innocent but at the same time sexy and I felt he would continue to surprise me.

Everyone here surprised me.

When you've gotten used to the same rough, boring sex, without getting off I might add, this diversity was amazing.

I mean, I like sex pretty much anyway but discovering each person's kinks, their most sinful desires, was the most addicting thing and I had eight people to do it with.

It made my heart pound with the excitement and my cock twitched to just think about all the possibilities.

Hell, I wouldn't even care if it took forever and a day to get penetrated, what I've been doing now was more than enough.

"What are you thinking about?"

I looked at Noir, confusion on my face, before realizing that I had stopped midway through getting dressed and had been standing there with a shirt in my hand for five minutes.

"Sex," I said simply, grinning wickedly  at the blush that spread across his cheeks.

"Oh," was all he said as I pulled on my shirt then went to sit beside him.

We sat there for a long time, him playing with the strangely purring demon in his lap as I observed him, noting every breathe, every small movement he made, trying to burn it into my memories.

He broke the silence, his hand continuing to stroke the demon I was debating to give a name.

"Do you miss it? I mean, do you miss sex?"

He didn't look up.

I didn't know why he asked or what exactly he was looking for in my answer.

I thought for a moment before replying.

"Yes and no."

He finally glanced up, confusion written on his face, making me smile slightly.

"I guess in a sense I do. I miss how it was before, things went downhill. It was something more than just a food source. I felt alive, like I was connecting with people."

"Can I ask what 'things' went downhill?"

I looked to the ceiling, hesitating.

Thinking my silence an answer, Noir went back to the demon.

"I met someone, someone who turned out to be someone I didn't know, who didn't care who he hurt."

I looked at him once, noting his expression lacking of pity, only full of curiosity and a vague understanding.

He wasn't pushing me for answers.

He was waiting for me to continue, letting me take my time.

After a moment, I did, laying down with my hands behind my head.

"I loved him, er I thought I loved him. I think I was actually just with him to stick it to my parents."

I laughed bitterly.

"He was human. My people didn't care about breeding with other species but developing anything beyond lust was taboo."

I paused, eyes watering for a second.

"My brother paid the price and I repaid him by running off with a guy who gained my trust just to sell me to the highest bidder," I snorted, filled with self loathing, hating the younger me for being so stupid.

The silence was back.

Instead of petting the demon, who I decided to call Xyrin, Noir laid down beside me, his hand making invisible circles on my chest.

It was comfortable.

I knew he wanted to ask for details,but he didn't.

I didn't regret telling him.

It actually felt nice, felt as if something was lifted off my chest.

"So you said you also didn't miss sex?"

I'd almost forgotten.

I kissed the top of his head before answering with a chuckle, my bad mood lifted.

"Yeah. I don't know what it is but now, here with all of you, I feel content. Before, I used to constantly go out and find someone but I don't feel the need to anymore."

"Does that mean you don't want to have sex with any of us?"

"Of course I do."

I grinned at his expression.

"But I don't feel like I have to. I don't need sex to tie me to you guys. I'm fine with letting things progress the way they are."

He smiled, tucking a strand of hair behind his pointed ear.

I guess he liked my answer.

In truth, I hadn't really realized these things until I said them out loud, the words flowing naturally.

I had a connection with Noir, with all of them, that was more than physical.

It was an emotional connection that allowed me to tell him these things.

"I'm glad."

He glanced up, moving to peck my lips.

"We really care for you, Winter. You mean more to us than you can ever imagine and we'll protect you."

I squeezed him to me, my heart racing as I processed what he said.

"You too. I want to stay with you all, to keep feeling what I'm feeling. I'll do anything to stay with you, to keep you all safe. Anything."

[dr3amlab]

wicked games, dm.

SUMMARY — Y/N Gorgon and Draco Malfoy have a long history of mutual hatred. You see, the two of them have been pulling pranks on each other since their 1st year at Hogwarts, to the dismay of their close friends and supervisors. However, after a prank left Y/N completely out of her mind, she decides that she'll pull her cruelest prank yet on Draco by pretending to be his secret admirer.

PAIRING — Draco Malfoy x reader

GENRE — series, enemies to lovers, rival, comedy (?)

WORD COUNT — 1631 words.

AUTHOR’S NOTE — I tried a new format of writing, I kinda want to try narrating like a movie ? idk if you caught that. tell me what you think, I'd really love that. Let me know if you want to be on the taglist!

PARTS. 1 2 3 4 5 6 finale

I. YOU WILL BE DEALT WITH.

“Really handsome, blond, tall and a son of a bitch.” These are the words you would use to describe Draco Malfoy if somebody ever asked you. Of course, you are not worried of ever saying the first four words of that sentence to anyone because, well, nobody would ever ask you.

It’s not that your opinion of the blond boy doesn’t matter, don’t get me wrong, but it’s just that your judgement of Malfoy is well known all across Hogwarts : you hate Draco, with a passion. Matter fact, if you had a gun with two bullets and you were in a room with Voldemort, Umbridge , and Draco, you would shoot draco, twice.

You must be curious on why you both hate each other so much ; Well for starters, it all started on the first ever day of Hogwarts when⎯

“Draco fucking Malfoy.”you yelled at the top of your lungs as soon as you felt a translucent-gooey-textured liquid being poured on the top of your head, slowly making its way on your shoulders. For the matter that drenched your upper body was unknown, you closed your eyes instantly, preventing whatever-that-was from infecting your eyes.

(I guess we’ll tell that story another day)

You quickly wiped your eyes with your fingers, wanting to see the culprit so you could give them a piece of your mind. But, of course, you knew damn well who would dare to pull this type of pranks at eight am.

There he was, right in front of you, Draco Malfoy, with his stupid platinum blond hair, laughing stupidly with his stupider friends. Oh, how his laugh was aggravating to your ears.

“What the fuck did you just pour on me Malfoy?”You gritted your teeth, angry as ever. Who in their right state of mind would be this bored to pull a prank this early in the morning?  

A smirk grazed his lips as he looked down on you. “What I just poured on you is troll snot.” His response earned a roar of laughter from not only his little clique, but the entire hallway which was, conveniently for Draco, busy at this time of the day. “And you think it's bloody funny you fucking tosser?” You said, disgusted as you helplessly tried to clean your hands on your skirt.

“Geez, Gorgon.” He chuckled as if you said the silliest thing ever. “Who shat in your cereals?” This statement made Crabbe and Goyle slap their knees and grab their stomach as it hurt with laughter. “Stop laughing! What's so funny you idiots?” You glared at them which made them stop at once.

You took a step towards the blond boy while looking at him straight into his eyes. “You're satisfied of yourself right now, aren't you Malfoy?” He took a step back, not sure of what's going to be your next move. “Are you du—” You were interrupted by a stern voice that silenced the entire hallway in a matter of seconds.

“What in Merlin's name is going on over here?” You didn't even need to turn around to see whose voice it is as you know it too damn well. Plus, the look on Malfoy only confirmed your suspicion. “Fuck, it's Snape.” He muttered shakily under his breath. “You are little coward, aren't you Malfoy?” You giggled bitterly finding his reaction way too funny. “Everybody go to class.” The professor continued. “NOW.”He demanded making every student watching the scene scurry to their first class of the day.

“Y/N Gorgon. Draco Malfoy.” Snape said in a severe voice. “What did you two scheme this time?” You turned around to look at the professor's face filled of exasperation. Well, can you blame him? There's not a single person in the world that wouldn't be tired of giving the same two students detention almost every day for the past six years. Yes, every day for the past SIX years.

Snape's presence didn't even bother you at this point, the man has seen you in all the possible situations and emotional states since the day you stepped foot into Hogwarts. So, unbothered, you continued talking to Draco as if Snape wasn't even in the room. “You will not get away with this Malfoy”you said through gritted teeth. “Trust, you will be dealt with.” You poked your index finger at his chest. “You didn't win yet, you fucking twat." The last statement earned you a smack in the back of your head from Snape.

“10 points out for Slytherin for your foolishness.” he said, disappointed. “I think you two already know the drill by now.” He sighed looking at the two of you in front of him. “Potions classroom. Cauldrons.” He said lifelessly, as usual.

“I think you are mistaken professor, we cleaned the cauldrons yesterday.” Draco said hurriedly. You quickly nudged Draco with your elbow. “Shut up Malfoy.” you mouthed.

“Would you rather help Filch on his cleaning duties?” Snape said already knowing your reaction. “No, sir.” You said quickly.

“Good.”He said before turning his back and leaving to Merlin knows where, but, then, he stopped his motions before turning back towards you and Draco. “Oh and Y/N.” You gulped. “Clean yourself before going to detention.” He brought his hand to his nose, waving it up and down as if to eliminate a bad odour. “The stench of troll snot isn't really pleasant for my nose. I think I speak for all of us” He turned back and disappeared quickly from the hallways which were empty by now, leaving only you and Draco who was currently laughing uncontrollably.

Of course, you didn't hesitate to kick him where the sun doesn't shine to make him shut up. And it did work.

                   ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

"And he got me fucked up if he thinks that he'll get away with this easily." You stormed into your room, muttering like a mad woman. "He really thinks" you sat yourself on your desk, slamming a piece of paper on it. "that I'm going to let this slide, huh?" you picked up your quill and started writing on the paper. "Malfoy, you don't know what's coming for your right now." you chuckled maniacally.

"What the fuck Y/N?" Athena, your roommate, said as she got out of your shared bathroom, looking like she just got out of the shower. "Aren't you supposed to be in class right now?" she questioned while looking at you curiously and leaning her body on the door frame of the bathroom. "By the way⎯ What in Merlin's beard is this horrid smell?" she scrunched her nose "And it's definitely not me cause I just hopped out of the shower." You glared at her. "Well, what about you?" you said, "aren't you supposed to be in transfiguration right now?" you looked back at your paper. "If you are wondering about the smell," you stopped writing your sentence and met her eyes, "Draco Malfoy poured troll snot on me this morning." you explained.

A look of horror displayed on Athena's face "Troll snot?" you nodded. "Yes troll snot." for a moment she looked like she was suppressing a laugh, but then she couldn't control it anymore and had a fit of laughter. "What are you laughing for you git?" You were utterly offended, why would your dearest friend laugh of your misery?

"I'm sorry love, it's just that it's kind of a good come back for your last prank." she put her hand in front of her mouth as an attempt to hide her smile. "I didn't think that he could top you putting green hair dye in his shampoo." she continued. "Sure." you said smiling as Athena reminded you of your last accomplishment. "So I suppose that you are planning your next prank, aren't you?" she pointed at the piece of paper you were writing. "You know, I think you guys should just kiss at this point." you pretended to gag at her last statement. "Don’t ever say that again Athena. It’s never going to happen." she leaned back from her previous position and started to walk towards you.

"And, yeah, I am." a huge smirk displayed on your face. "And what is it?" she said as she stood next to you. "Nothing." you said simply. "Nothing?" Athena confusedly said as she picked up your piece of paper. "Yeah, I'm just gonna take a step back and watch things unfold." You said while leaning back in your chair, your arms behind your head.

You watched Athena's reaction at your next prank with amusement. "Y/N! You are insane." she exclaimed with her eyes as wide as saucers. "I truly don't know how to feel about this one, it's really risky." she waved the paper in front of your face. "Don't worry about it, it's all fun." you snatched the paper out of her hand. "Besides, that's the adequate payback for what he did today." you smiled mischievously while reading at the words written in the piece of parchment."

Dear Draco,

You filled up my heart for the past years, and I can not thank you enough for bringing me so much joy.

You see, I'm always looking at you secretly and it's creepy, I know, but I can't stop my eyes for prying for every trace of you. You are the highlight of my every day, hour and second.

I feel butterflies in my stomach every time our eyes meet by accident, I feel happy when you laugh but sadness when I see a frown on your face. Oh, how I'm infatuated by you.

But see, pretty boy, a wave of sadness can't help but to wash all over me when I wonder if you even know my existence.

Darling, do you even know my name? do you know I exist?

yours truly,

your secret admirer.

"This is perfect." you folded the letter and put it in a pink envelope. "I don't know about this Y/N." Athena sounded genuinely worried. "It's all he deserves for ruining my day by pouring troll snot on me." you said nonchalantly.

"Yeah, speaking of troll snot." Athena scrunched her nose in disgust. "you should really take a shower."