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waynes-multiverse · 2 days ago

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Eeeeek, I'm bursting with excitement! I wanna know so badly what happens next. I've been hurrying to get the kid to bed to read this 😂😂

You follow his lead with your own rifle, falling into step with him through the forest clearing. It’s a beautiful day in late November. Already you can see the edge of frost on the shrubs and half-barren trees. The ground is littered with dead leaves painted in browns, oranges, and dappled with reds.

I love this description btw Really painted a picture in my head 😍👏

You snort. “Right. Think I’ll just leave you for the bears…”

Ouch. That line probably haunted her afterward 😂🙈 (but I loved their banter! You can totally see they have a close and loving relationship 💕) And her dad's optimism and "fate" was so adorable ☺️

You don’t see the elk, and soon enough, you don’t see your dad either. You do hear a whistling on the wind, and the cold of it cuts right through your coat.

Goosebumps... 👀

Dean continues to listen intently with his brows furrowed.

Ah, our boy entered work mode 🤓

Dean has packed up his supplies and put on his winter gear. You watch him from the living room sofa, trying to hide your unease. You know he’s doing this for you, but there’s part of you that doesn’t want to see him leave, for his own sake, and selfishly for yours.

Oh God 🙈 No, I can't watch him leave alone. At least get Sam!!! Oh God, no, no, no, no... 🫣

I also realized in that moment why my readers are usually "from the same foxhole" because this is exactly what I can't do. Freaks me the fuck out and gives me so much anxiety. Like, I have to be there 😂 I don't know how you do it. Bravo, friend 😅👏

“You shouldn’t be going out there alone,” you say.

Nooo, but you shouldn't follow him either... With the broken ankle 👀

“If I’m not back inside a week, you need to ration out the supplies here as best you can. That new meat in the fridge should last you a while.”

A week?!?!?! *gasps*

By new meat, you have to assume he means the bear.

Ooooh, btw, super interesting what you said about the bear meat! I figured something like this. They did wear bear fur, right? And I know people back then never wasted anything, so makes sense they'd eat the meat, too 😄

Right now, you don’t really give a shit about what he’d rather, but you don’t say so.

I cackled 😂 Love her feistiness!

After the first three days, you’ve managed to clean the entire cabin, top to bottom.

Oh God! I'd die worrying... 🙈🤣

On Day Four, you create a nest of pillows and blankets in the middle of the living room floor.

Aww 😭😭 Poor thing... 😢 (Loved how she explained not taking his room. While invasive, I think if Dean came back to this in his room, he would've melted 🫠🫶)

Then, you hear the sound of a lock turning, before the front door shoves open.

THANK FUCKING GOD!!!!!

“I’m sorry, sweetheart,” he murmurs into your hair. “Believe me, I am.”

I knew it was a long shot, especially when her father wasn't with Dean, but still breaks my heart for her 💔😢

He brushes your cheek with his thumb, collecting your tears there. You glance down at his plush lips again, your own parting with a breath. His hand moves to cup your cheek, framing the side of your face. Please… He finally drags you to him in a kiss.

The anxiety is long forgotten. All is forgiven... *sighs dreamily* 😍😍

“Sorry…we can’t do this,” he says, with difficulty. He sits upright and nearly makes you fall over in the process.

Oh no, you come back here, young man!!!

It wouldn't be Dean, though, without the "you can't date me, I'm dangerous and not good enough" freak out 😂

“I don’t even own this place. Besides my car, I ain’t got much of anything to give.”

Legit crying right now 😭😭😭 This is exactly why we always want what's best for him in fanfics. He deserves it so much 🥺

Or at least, it’s heat of a different kind, as his strong hands once again find your waist. They hold you still, but also hold you to him.

Love that little detail. Makes such a huge difference ❤️

Oooooh, I so can't wait to read the finale now! This is absolutely amazing, Alex! It's got the right amount of angst and heartbreak, only to haul me back into this sweet cabin romanticism 😍🤍🤍🤍

Against the Wind - Part 3

Pairing: Alpha!Dean Winchester x F. Omega!Reader

Summary: You wake up in a strange alpha’s cabin in the middle of a snowstorm, all with a busted ankle. He holds shadows in his eyes, even though his hands are gentle. There are iron shutters around his heart, even though he saved you. You might just save him in return.

AN: Merry Christmas! I'm dropping this chapter a day early for you guys. Now, here's the full story, and what Dean is going to do about it…

Jacklesverse Bingo24 Prompt: True Mates @jacklesversebingo

Song Inspo: “Against the Wind” by Bob Seger

Word Count: 3.8K

Tags/Warnings: 18+ only. Angst, mentions of blood, hint of spice.~

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Part 3: Nothing Left to Burn

“We should start heading back,” you say, looking up at the mid-afternoon sky. It was starting to dip toward the top of the trees in the distance. “It’s going to take a couple of hours to get back before nightfall.”

“Yep, it’s about that time.” Your dad groans as he starts to haul himself back to his feet, where you two had been taking a rest against a tree. “Jesus, I need a new pair of knees. Help your old man, would ya?”

You smirk as you help the middle-aged alpha to his feet. His joints pop and his back cracks as he stretches his arms high.

“Damn, Dad. You’re creakier than the trees,” you quip.

He tosses you a wry look. “Just you wait. In a few years, after wrangling a couple of pups, you’re gonna feel my pain.”

“A few years?” you laugh. “Did I miss the part where I actually met a decent guy, let alone one worth mating?”

“Oh, you’ll find him,” your dad nods, slinging his rifle back over his shoulder. “Or he’ll find you, like your mother did with me.”

“You met her in college. It’s not like you guys defied fate,” you say.

“Yeah, but if she hadn’t walked into my psychology class by mistake, and stolen my latte at the campus café, maybe you wouldn’t be here,” he teases.

You huff and roll your eyes. Yes, your parents are a walking cliché. And by far, your dad’s the bigger sap.

“I’m telling you. Sometimes, the universe does us a solid,” he says, reinforcing his point with a literal pointed finger your way. You push it away from your face in exasperation.

“You might wanna watch where you’re going,” you say, “before you roll your ankle on another pebble.”

“You kidding me?” he exclaims. “That thing was the size of my fist! You’re lucky I didn’t break an ankle. Make you carry me all the way back to the car.”

You snort. “Right. Think I’ll just leave you for the bears…”

You trail off when a sound reaches you and your father. The sound of leaves crunching in the underbrush, quick and light. Your father’s shoulders straighten with alertness, the alpha’s head cocking toward the sound.

“Maybe I spoke too soon about the bears,” you whisper. He shakes his head.

“Nah, too light. It’s probably an elk.” He tosses you a smile. “We’ll have one hell of a haul to bring home, plus a good story to tell your mom.”

Your mother, the vegan veterinarian?

“Yeah, because she loves elk meat.”

“Would you quit being a smartass for two minutes? You go a little west. I’ll see where it’s at,” he says.

He quietly wracks his rifle and steps away from the clearing, farther into the woods. You do what he says, veering west. You don’t see the elk, and soon enough, you don’t see your dad either. You do hear a whistling on the wind, and the cold of it cuts right through your coat.

Unease prickles down your spine, though you don’t know why.

“Dad?” you whisper-yell, trying not to spook whatever animal might be out there.

A gunshot rings out, along with your dad’s voice in a shout. Your eyes widen in alarm, and you call his name, taking off in a run to find him.

You end up rising over a hill you hadn’t crossed before, but you see your dad below; you recognize his bright blue puffer jacket that Mom got him for his birthday. You call his name, and he looks up at you with fear in his eyes.

Not for himself, but for you.

“Go, get out of here!” he shouts and waves you off.

“What? What is it?!” you yell.

He shakes his head, like he’s unable to answer your question. “Run! Run and don’t stop!”

He moves further into the denser trees until you can no longer make him out. With a frustrated huff, you sprint down the hill and try to follow his tracks with your gun at the ready. On the wind, in the distance, you still hear his voice.

Until it cuts off abruptly, along with the terrible cracking of bone.

You gasp and halt in your steps. What the fuck was that?

Tears fill your eyes and blur your vision. Despite what you heard, you realize just how very alone you are in the clearing. Fear and adrenaline make your breath tremulous and shallow, but you can’t just give up. You search for a while longer, making yourself hoarse calling out to your father.

No matter what direction you take, you never find him.

“I ran back to town to get the rangers,” you say, brushing a couple of stray tears from your cheeks. You sniff, licking your lips and swallowing a hard lump of emotion in your throat.

Dean continues to listen intently with his brows furrowed.

“It was too late,” you sigh. “He disappeared. They explained it away, thought a grizzly bear got him, but I know it wasn’t a damn bear.”

You shake your head as the tears come harder and faster, all over again. Dean’s jaw clenches in sympathy.

“No one believed me about what I heard, not even my mom,” you confess. Your mother had been too distraught to entertain “anything else.” No matter how strongly you’d felt about your suspicions, you understood that she just wanted to put your father’s death behind her after his funeral. Part of you had stopped believing yourself.

A stronger part of you hadn’t been able to let it go, however. So you had to come back here and try to find any trace of your father.

When you finally run out of words, you see the proverbial gears turning in Dean’s eyes.

“What’re you thinking?” you hazard to ask. You can’t help but reach out and grab at his wrist. “Do you…do you believe me?”

Dean’s gaze softens a fraction. He lays his larger hand over yours.

“Yeah, I do,” he says. “I’m willing to bet on what took him too.”

He squeezes your hand before he lets you go and gets up from his seat. He soon returns with his father’s journal in hand. He reclaims his spot across from you, sitting close to your thigh on the end of the chaise. His gaze falls away from your face to the journal in hand, and he flips it open to a page he knows from memory. You suck in a subtle breath to steel yourself when he turns it toward you—to the very page that had given you nightmares the first night you read it.

Wendigo.

“Nasty son of a bitch,” he says. “It hibernates for decades at a time, but when it surfaces, it knows how to get through long winters like this. It takes a handful of people at a time, feeding on its victims slow.”

You feel sick at that, but still, his words elicit a sliver of hope.

“So there’s a chance he could still be alive,” you say, in a brighter voice. Dean gives you a measured look, dragging a hand over his mouth.

“Look, I’m gonna be straight with you,” he says. “It’s been months, right?”

You nod, though you realize what he’s saying. Don’t get your hopes up.

“But there’s a chance,” you insist, with tears in your eyes. Dean holds your gaze for a moment, and he nods. He squeezes your knee this time, then shuts the journal with one hand as he moves to stand.

You follow him on your crutches over to the kitchen. He pulls out a drawer and retrieves a folded-up map. Tossing the journal on the kitchen counter, he opens up the map and lays it out flat next to the sink. It’s a map of the mountain, and the entire forest surrounding the mountain of Big Sky. Dean’s eyes flick up to yours.

“Where did it happen?”

“Try not to go outside again unless you absolutely friggin’ have to,” he warns. “And if you do, don’t go too far. Make sure you take a weapon, preferably a gun and a knife.”

“Dean, I know,” you reply. You get up and hover by the couch while he finishes lacing his snowshoes and hooks his backpack on. You’re unable to hide your concern.

“You shouldn’t be going out there alone,” you say.

Dean tosses you a grin. It has the shade of how he was with you before the “journal” incident—self-assured, a hint teasing.

“Don’t worry. This isn’t exactly my first solo mission,” he says, though his devil-may-care attitude soon subsides into something more serious. “If I’m not back inside a week, you need to ration out the supplies here as best you can. That new meat in the fridge should last you a while.”

By new meat, you have to assume he means the bear.

“When you’re healed up, you can make your way down the mountain and back to town with that map I left for you. Kitchen counter,” he says.

Your frown worsens. You step closer to him with the pretense of closing and locking the front door for him after he leaves.

“Dean,” you say, stopping him at the door. He turns to look at you over his shoulder. You hesitate, fidgeting slightly, but you gain your courage.

“If you don’t come back, I’m going to find you,” you warn him.

Dean frowns. He turns to you fully and tilts his head as if to say, come again?

“No, you’re not, Omega. You understand me?”

His terseness doesn’t scare you anymore. You glare up at him, quite literally standing your ground.

“You didn’t leave me out there when you didn’t even know me. You think I’d do that to you?” you counter.

At that, Dean has to pause, tilting his head slightly. He almost smiles at your stubbornness, and just like that, his annoyance dissipates. It softens him, making him reach for your arm in an assuring squeeze.

“I appreciate the thought, but trust me. I’d rather you look out for you,” he says.

Right now, you don’t really give a shit about what he’d rather, but you don’t say so. It’s written across your face anyway. Dean’s mouth tugs at a smile.

“All right, I’m out,” he says. “Save me some of Yogi in there.”

You huff, but you shut the door behind him after he steps out onto the porch, down the steps, and beyond. You move to the living room window and watch him get farther and farther away from the cabin.

Despite the crackling fireplace, you begin to feel cold inside.

After the first three days, you’ve managed to clean the entire cabin, top to bottom. With the “new meat,” you make a large batch of soup to last you throughout the week. You freeze a couple of servings for Dean.

For when he gets back.

You try to fill up your time in other ways, like attempting, and failing, and trying again more successfully to make bread from scratch. You haven’t binge-watched every season of The Great British Bake-Off for nothing.

Then you organize all of the alpha’s books by author. You wash all the laundry you can find and fold everything neatly on his bed, and you put away the couple of sweaters you’ve borrowed from him into your own dresser.

On Day Four, you create a nest of pillows and blankets in the middle of the living room floor. In your anxiety, it’s a reflex you can’t help. Your initial instinct was to nest in his room, but you thought that was too invasive of his privacy, so the living room was your next best option. At least his scent is still somewhat imbued into his favorite chair, and around his records. (You do steal another shirt of his to sleep with though.)

On Day 8, your worry becomes a living thing. You pace the living room and the kitchen on your crutches, probably wearing down the wooden ends of them while you debate what to do. Despite what Dean told you to do if he didn’t get back, you know you’re not just going to leave him out there. But the reality is, you have a problem of mobility.

With a frustrated huff, you decide to try setting your problem foot down normally. Your ankle hurts, a sharp pain shooting up your calf and nearly sending you to the floor.

“Fuck!” you gasp, both in shock and aggravation.

You know this isn’t just a sprain. At best it could be a fracture, since no bone is protruding under the skin. It still means you shouldn’t go after him either.

But you’ll have to try.

After you manage to clamber back onto your feet using the crutches, you put together some supplies, including the extra med kit in case he’s hurt. (Or in case something happens to you while you’re out there.) This is a bad idea, you think, even as you heave on your jacket.

Then, you hear the sound of a lock turning, before the front door shoves open.

A yelp of surprise escapes you, though you soon realize that it’s Dean, looking worn down and ragged, but alive.

“Home, sweet home,” he says wryly, but he looks relieved to see you too.

You help him sink down onto the chaise, where he stretches out with a groan. He tips his head back on the cushion. His jacket is torn in a few places. Blood has dried on his cheek, his neck, and near his hairline, and you worry about where else he might be hurt.

You quickly go to the kitchen and pour a bowl of warm water and grab a hand towel. You bring it all back to Dean, where you set your supplies on the floor and sit down beside him on the cushion.

“Are you okay?” You try to calm down your racing heart (and the nauseous feeling in your stomach) as you help him work open his jacket, followed by his shirt. Discreetly, your eyes take in the expanse of his tanned skin and pebbling nipples exposed to the cool air, even with the fire roaring nearby.

“Yeah, just peachy,” he says.

You smile a little. You take the towel, dampen it, and begin to clear the blood from his cheek, his neck, and the upper part of his torso—even his scuffed hands. Then you squeegee out the blood in the bowl and continue your task. Dean subtly watches you, his gaze a bit softer than usual.

He eventually looks you over with a frown as he takes in the way you’re dressed, and then the backpack by the door.

“What, about to go for a little afternoon stroll?” His sarcasm turns to annoyance. “Didn’t I tell you to stay put until you can actually walk?”

Your mouth flattens into a line, but any anger you might’ve felt is waylaid by your relief. It brings tears to your eyes.

“I thought something happened to you,” you say.

Dean hesitates. Your hand has stilled on his chest. He softens a little more, grasping your hand in his larger one.

“I’m fine,” he says. “The job’s done.”

Your eyes widen. “You found the…thing? The wendigo?”

His mouth pulls at a cocky grin, tempered only by his tiredness, and the way he’s looking at you. “Sure did. Tried to take a chunk outta my ass, but a little aerosol deodorant and a lighter’s all you need to barbecue that ugly son of a bitch.”

You smile in amusement, but all too soon, it fades.

“Did you find my dad?” you ask.

Dean’s expression sobers as well.

“Yeah, I think so.” His face gentles. “Was he wearing a blue puffer jacket?”

Your lips tremble. As that horrible realization dawns, you break down into tears. You already know from his tone that your father was dead when he found him.

Dean guides you down to him by your shoulder and wraps his arms around you. You bury your face into his neck, and your body shakes with quiet sobs.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart,” he murmurs into your hair. “Believe me, I am.”

He holds you close, warm and secure. He allows you to stay there as long as you need, where you feel safe, even if this world has become a colder, darker place.

After a few minutes longer, your intense sobs begin to subside. You don’t mean to, but you turn your nose into Dean’s neck, scenting him on reflex. It calms you down, but it has the unintended effect of arousing him. The alpha rumbles in pleasure.

You blink in surprise and lean back enough to see his face. Dean’s lips press together as he looks down on you; he seems embarrassed, but you also see the heat reflected in his gaze, so intense in those forest greens. Your face begins to warm in a blush.

He finally drags you to him in a kiss.

It’s heady and passionate, and also comforting. Your fingers wind into his hair, your nails scraping along his scalp. He growls as his arm tightens around your waist. You shiver in delight.

You press a hand to the center of his chest, giving you leverage to rise up and slide your thigh over his legs. There you sink into his lap. Your breasts pillow against his chest when you lay on top of him, your elbows digging into the cushion on either side of his head. His hands move down your body, feeling down your sides, squeezing your hips, and then your ass. You hum into his mouth and roll your hips into his. Already you feel him hardening through his jeans.

But somehow he breaks away from your kiss, even though your hands are still in his hair.

“Sorry…we can’t do this,” he says, with difficulty.

He sits upright and nearly makes you fall over in the process. He grabs your arm before you tip over, but he keeps himself at arm’s length from you after you’re forced to slide off his lap, sitting on the end of the chaise instead. Your eyes glisten with hurt and confusion.

“Why?” is all you can ask.

He doesn’t want to answer.

“Dean?” you ask, inching towards him. He raises a hand to keep you at bay.

“Just…it’s not a good idea, okay?” he says, with the clenching of his jaw.

That cuts into you even more. Your heart pulses with pain.

“Do you know what your scent is to me?” you ask, in a voice slightly trembling. You glance at the fireplace that has dimmed to embers. “It’s better than that fire at full blaze. Every time I went camping with my dad, that’s what I loved the most. Sitting by that fire, talking, laughing, and for the millionth time, telling the story of when I gave my sister micro bangs in her sleep when I was ten.”

You wipe a stray tear from your eye, but you respect the distance he’s put between you two.

“The second I met you, I knew what this was,” you say. “I think you know it too.”

Dean shakes his head. His face betrays his wariness, his desire, and his obstinance.

“Look…even if that’s true, you don’t want this with me,” he says. His handsome face becomes marred by a frown, his brows knitting together. “I don’t even own this place. Besides my car, I ain’t got much of anything to give.”

You shake your head in dismay. “I know that’s not true.”

“I’m not bullshitting,” he says. “Listen…I’ve never had much. And what I did have, I found a way to lose. I’ve let my people down. Just about everyone I’ve ever…”

You can’t help but reach out a hand for him, your heart hurting, but he leans away, pressing himself back against the seat. It cuts even deeper into you; now though, you wonder if it’s because he feels the same gut feeling you do when he’s this close—close enough to touch, but almost afraid of the burn.

“They’ve been hurt, almost always because of me.” His voice shakes imperceptibly, with a wry, humorless turn of his lips. “So take it from me, sweetheart. You’ll wanna steer clear.”

“Dean,” you say. You expel a breath, digesting his words, while thinking of what you want to say.

“I’ve never not felt safe with you,” you confess. “Even when I screwed up and drove you crazy, I’m sure, I knew you’d never hurt me. The same way I know…”

You reach out a tentative hand to lay in the center of his chest, over his heart. Your thumb brushes the edge of his strange tattoo, over the dark ink in his skin.

“You’re my mate. My one, true mate in this world,” you say, meeting his eyes. “And I want to know you.”

You see inner conflict in the depths of Dean’s eyes, dark green and troubled. You take a chance and lean in, brushing your cheek against his, nuzzling, laying a soft kiss to his cheek.

“Omega,” he warns, but the grit in his voice has little heat.

Or at least, it’s heat of a different kind, as his strong hands once again find your waist. They hold you still, but also hold you to him. Your gentle affection is making him ache, deep in the shadowy cavern of his chest. He’d never admit it, but loneliness had set in there, burrowed deep with a stronghold on his heart. Without knowing, you’ve been carving it out with those gentle hands.

You now slide your hands up his chest and over his shoulders, warm palms on his skin.

“Alpha, I want to know you,” you insist. Quiet, but steady, your voice is a mere brush of words near his ear, against his cheek. “Please.”

Dean’s brows furrow as he briefly shuts his eyes tight. With your whispered plea, the brittle chain of his restraint finally snaps free.

He cradles the back of your head and guides you back into a feverish kiss.

AN: Sorry to cut it off there lol, but the big (steamy) finale is coming up next week! Perhaps a little earlier than Friday. 😘

Next Time:

“Were you nesting, Omega?” he teases, between the sinful meetings of his lips with yours. You hum your affirmation before his tongue swipes across your lower lip, seeking entrance.

You open yourself to him in more ways than one; you slip your hands across his naked shoulders and explore the smooth planes of muscle, the dips and softness in between. You encourage him to lower down, to cover you with the length and broadness of his frame. His weight is a welcome one between your thighs and against the softness of your body.

“Was worried about you,” you whisper a confession against his lips. Dean briefly pauses, meeting your eyes.

“Thanks for waiting up,” he says, with a hint of a smile.

Your lips curve upwards in return.

▶️ Keep reading: Part 4 (Finale!)

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makeitmingi · 2 days ago

Text

When Mingi Leaves For Tour [Drabble]

pairing: mingi x fem!reader (y/n)

summary: before leaving for the european tour, mingi dropped by to spend some time with you. and despite being used to his busy schedule, the thought of your distance makes you miss him more than you thought.

word count: 2K

story warning(s): kissing, cuddling, soft affection

a/n: don't ask me why but i just had this dream for 2 consecutive nights and wanted to write it. also this is my 1,200th post!

*ding dong*

Mingi stood outside your door, hearing your mother's voice from inside the house. He rocked on his heels, trying to control the excitement of seeing you. When your mother opened the door, she smiled when she saw Mingi.

"Omonim." He greeted with a smile and hugged her. Your mother chuckled and wrapped an arm around him, patting his back.

"Aigo, what are you doing here? (y/n) said you were flying off today. Shouldn't you be packing?" She asked as she guided him into the house after he removed his shoes.

"I am but I packed early so I could come by and stay with her for a bit. Hello abonim." Mingi bowed to your father.

"Hello, Mingi ah. Thank you for dropping by to see her." Your father came to shake Mingi's hand.

"No need to thank. Please, don't let me interrupt your work." He gestured after shaking his hand, knowing your father mostly works from home now.

"She's in right?" Mingi blinked, making your parents laugh.

"Yeah, she is. I think she just finished a project meeting. She's trying her best to hold it together." Your father said with a soft smile.

"Don't say that, you'll make him feel bad. Ignore him, Mingi ah." Your mother waved your father off. But Mingi knew what your father meant, you were trying to act excited for Mingi to go on tour but in fact, you were sad to say goodbye to him. And your father was always very protective of you.

"Mom? Who was at the door? Was it my package?" Just then, your parents and Mingi heard your voice from your room. He heard your house slippers shuffle against the floor.

"M-Mingi?" You blinked, as if to check if you were dreaming or not. Mingi smiled and headed to you, engulfing you in a hug.

"What are you doing here? Shouldn't you be getting ready for the airport or something?" You asked.

"I did all that early so I could come see you. Now, can you hug me back, please?" Mingi requested. You chuckled and wrapped your arms around his middle.

"Come." You held his hand and pulled him to your room, feeling a little awkward with your parents there.

"So, what did my dad tell you?" You glared.

"Nothing, baby. I swear." He held his hands up. You love your dad and you know he has your best interests at heart but he reveals things to Mingi about you and your feelings, which you don't feel like sharing sometimes. Plus, he always exaggerates.

"I wanted to spend time with you before I have to go to the airport. Manager-nim is picking me up later." He smiled softly, sitting on your bed. You smiled softly and stood between his legs.

"Thank you." You put your arms around his neck.

"Don't thank me. I did this for me. I don't like being away from you." He sighed, putting his head against your chest.

"Me too. But you gotta do what you gotta do, which is make Atiny happy." You said. Mingi held your waist and carefully laid back you were draped over his body.

"I wish I could take you with me." He turned you to your side so he could hug you.

"Me too. But I don't want you to pay for my plane ticket." You buried your face in his chest. Mingi kissed the top of your head.

"Can't I fly you out to one show?" He asked.

"Mingi..." You lifted your head gave him a conflicted look. When you started dating, one of the first things you told Mingi was that you didn't want him to pay for everything.

"I know, I know. I was just offering in case you changed your mind." He pouted, pulling you close to him. You and Mingi just cuddled in silence, enjoying each other's presence and the peacefulness. To you and your family, he was Song Mingi, your boyfriend. He wasn't Song Mingi, fierce and flirty rapper of Ateez.

"Oh, right. I have a present for you." Mingi temporarily pulled away and left your room to grab the bag he had left in the living room.

"A present?" You sat up. Mingi hummed and dug through his bag, taking a stuffed giraffe out of his bag. He didn't miss the way your eyes lit up like an excited kid.

"A giraffe!" You squealed at the sight of your favourite animal. (Toy)

"It's me." Mingi came to sit on the bed, tugging at the customised 'Fix On' hoodie and black glasses on the giraffe.

"It'll keep you company whenever I'm not around. I wanted to get you a Bbyeongming but you already have 2 so I thought this was different." He said.

"I only have 2 because you wanted me to have more Bbyeongming than the others." You scoffed.

When Aniteez came out, the boys got you the whole set of all 8 characters. But Mingi, being competitive in his own way, bought you an extra Bbyeongming so it looks like you 'love' Bbyeongming more than the others.

"But I love him. Thank you, Mingi." You leaned to give him a peck but Mingi surprised you by cupping your cheeks and holding you there so he could kiss you longer.

"Ah, I really don't want to leave now." He groaned, his face pressing on your shoulder.

"Hongjoong might have an aneurysm if you don't go." You chuckled, stroking his head, fingers toying with the ends of his hair.

"He's so cute and I can't believe you made the hoodie for him. He does look like you but he'll never be you." You giggled, holding up the giraffe to look at it again. Mingi smiled proudly at your words.

"Come, I still want cuddles." Mingi pulled you down so you laid on his chest and his arm wrapped around your shoulder.

"I'll come up with a name for him." You said, hugging the giraffe.

You and Mingi didn't know how much time had passed but it definitely felt too short when you were interrupted by Mingi's alarm ringing, a reminder that he had to get ready to leave.

"I want to follow you down." You said, grabbing a hoodie from your closet and slipping it on. Mingi smiled when he recognised the hoodie as one that was missing from his closet. But he won't call you out on it and tease you, and risk you returning it to him. He wanted you to keep it so it can comfort you when you miss him.

"Wait, you want some snacks? Asian snacks in case you miss home." You asked him.

"Yes! Please help yourself to anything in the kitchen." Your mother stood up from the couch and came over. You opened the pantry door to look at your snacks.

"Here, take this. And these too, the others like them." You said, taking some of the Korean snacks out.

"You don't have to give it to them, baby." Mingi chuckled, leaning against the island.

"I can always buy them again. You guys can eat it when you're there or even on the plane." You smiled, grabbing a bag and putting the snacks in there. You even added some cup noodles.

"Ah, that's enough, baby. Thank you." Mingi blushed as you held out the bag of snacks to take.

"Yeah, we should go. Don't keep the others waiting." You said.

"Oh, yes! I bought these hydration packs. Share it with your members, it's a powder that you just add to water. It's good for your gut too with probiotics." Your mother ran to the kitchen, coming out with a box and giving it to Mingi.

"Omonim, you shouldn't have! But thank you so much." Mingi deeply bowed, holding the box in his hands. You smiled softly, your parents really loved Mingi.

"Take care of yourself, Mingi ah. Stay healthy, make sure you rest enough and eat all your meals." Your mother said.

"Thank you, omonim and abonim." Mingi bowed again as your mother reached up to hug him.

"Have a good tour, son." Your father patted him on the shoulder. With another bow, you and Mingi headed downstairs to the driveway to wait for the manager to come pick him up.

"Have a safe trip, Min. Come back to me, okay?" You said.

"Oh, baby. Of course. I promise I'm not going off to war." He placed the box down so he could hug you.

"I know, I know... I'm just going to miss you." You sighed. Mingi cupped your cheeks, tilting your head up so he could give you a sweet kiss.

"I'll miss you too, baby... so much. But it won't be for long." He stroked your cheeks softly with his thumbs. There was a honk and you both pulled away to see the van pull up. The manager opened the door, revealing Yunho, San and Jongho inside. You bowed and waved to the manager and the members inside.

"Hi, (y/n)~" They waved back enthusiastically. Mingi handed his manager the things to put in the back with all the bags.

"Alright, I gotta go. I love you, baby. Take care of yourself, hmm?" Mingi patted your head. You didn't trust your voice so you just nodded with a small smile.

"Love you too." You squeaked and hugged him. Mingi kissed the crown of your head.

"Bye." You waved, watching him climb into the van. But as the door closed, you turned around, unable to control the feelings anymore.

"Wait, Mingi..." Yunho tapped Mingi's leg, pointing to you, whose back was facing the window. Your shoulders shook slightly, indicating your cries.

"Go. We still have time." The manager said, opening the door.

As you stood there, you were surprised to find a tall body engulf yours from the back. Mingi spun you around, pulling your arm to wrap around him so he could hug you tightly.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry." You apologised repeatedly as you grasped the material of his jacket, sobbing softly into his chest.

"Silly girl, there's nothing for you to be sorry about. Hmm? Don't apologise." He whispered, stroking the back of your head to comfort you. You really wanted to pull away and let Mingi go, knowing the manager and the other members were waiting but you couldn't.

"I'll be home before you know it, my love." He said.

"I know. I'll be okay, don't worry. You should go or you'll be late for your flight." You took a deep breath to ground yourself. Mingi didn't want to leave you but he knew he had to.

"I love you. I'll call you every day." He kissed your forehead, wiping your tears away with your sleeve.

"Goodbye." You covered your face in embarrassment and waved as he reluctantly entered the van and closed the door.

"Poor (y/n)." San pouted as the van began to move and you disappeared from Mingi's sight. Yunho wordleslly reached over to hold his best friend's hand.

"She'll be okay." Yunho assured. Mingi let out a hum and nodded.

When the van disappeared, you went back upstairs to your home. Even if your parents noticed that you cried, they didn't mention it.

"He'll be back soon." You told yourself and fell onto your bed, hugging the giraffe to your chest. Everything still smelt like Mingi and you impossibly hoped it would last until he comes back home.

"What-" As you put your hand under the pillow, you noticed something tucked under there. Sitting up, you frowned in confusion as you took out the items. Your eyes widened as you saw a First Class airline ticket to London with Ateez VIP tickets to both London shows and the Manchester show.

'I'll see you soon, my love. x Mingi'

#kpop #kpop scenarios #kpop oneshot #ateez #ateez scenarios #ateez oneshot #ateez x reader #ateez mingi #mingi ateez #mingi #mingi scenarios #mingi oneshot #mingi x reader #mingi x you #mingi x y/n #song mingi #song mingi scenarios #song mingi oneshot #song mingi x reader

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rubywillkins · 2 days ago

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Hi, this is an order for your cafee. Dont know if I picked too much, i just did one from each.

Can I have skim Milk, bruchetta, spaghetti, club soda, pork chops, potato gnocci and dark mocha. With mv1 x fem reader🩷

Thank youuu

Sure darling ♥️, you didn't pick much sweety its actually a bit less so the ff will be a bit short ♥️

Max Verstappen|

Tension and Tenderness

Pairing max Verstappen × female reader

Skim milk dry humping bruschetta edging spaghetti hand cuffs club soda pillow talk pork chops "so good for me, look at how much you came" potato gnocchi "shh, just look at me, baby" dark mocha dating

The paddock was buzzing with its usual energy. Y/N stood near Max's Red Bull garage, chatting animatedly with one of the mechanics, Lucas. She admired how Lucas was always so patient explaining the technical intricacies of Max’s car, and her curiosity often led her to these lighthearted conversations.

Max, who had just wrapped up his debrief, spotted them from a distance. His jaw tightened as he saw Y/N laughing at something Lucas said. The warmth in her eyes sent a pang of jealousy through him, though he knew deep down it was irrational.

By the time Y/N rejoined him, Max’s mood had visibly shifted.

“Had a good chat?” he asked curtly, his tone sharp.

“Yeah, Lucas was just explaining how the new setup impacts—”

“Lucas this, Lucas that,” Max interrupted, his voice low but edged with annoyance. “You seem to spend more time with him than me lately.”

Y/N frowned, caught off guard. “Max, are you seriously jealous? He’s just being nice and answering my questions.”

Max huffed but didn’t reply, his blue eyes betraying the storm brewing within. They finished the rest of their day in strained silence, the usual playful banter replaced by tension.

The drive home was quiet, and Y/N felt the weight of his emotions. Max rarely let his insecurities show, but when he did, it hit hard.

As soon as they stepped into their shared apartment, she turned to him. “Max, talk to me. What’s really going on?”

He ran a hand through his hair, his frustration evident. “I don’t like seeing you with him, okay? It gets to me. I know it’s stupid, but I can’t help it. You’re mine, and the thought of someone else catching your attention...”

She stepped closer, placing her hands on his chest. “You’re the only one I want, Max. You have nothing to worry about.”

His eyes softened, but the tension in his body remained. Without another word, he pulled her into a deep kiss, pouring all his unspoken emotions into it. Y/N felt the shift—his jealousy melting into need, his anger replaced by a longing to feel connected.

The night unfolded in a whirlwind of passion and tenderness. Max’s hands explored her as if reminding himself she was his, every touch filled with a mix of possessiveness and love. "You deserve to be punished young lady" he said while putting handcuffs on you... You hesitate a bit but you were enjoying it.. you don't see this side of max often..

He picked you up and made you sit on his lap kissing you roughly.. his hands caressing your ass and slowly pushing it towards his hardening dick...

At this point you were also turned on and both of your bodies were moving in sync Fully clothed...

"max.. don't make me more needy baby... Just put it in.. pls.." you said yearning to feel his dick inside you...

"Not so easily baby, this is a punishment.." he said smirking...

In one go both of your clothes were on the floor..

He inserted himself into you .. making you gasp because of the sudden movement...

It felt so good.. he was slowly pounding into you making it unbearable for you...

"baby pls.. pls a bit fast" you said.. "are you sure"

He started to pound in you roughly.. it was good very good but rough at the same time.. but he pulled out the moment you were about to cum...

"oh.. god no... Max... Why don't you let me cum"

"its a punishment baby" " max pls..it didn't feel good" you said with your big baby eyes.. which melted his heart right away.. "shh, just look at me, baby"

He started pounding into you again this time perfectly.. not too much rough.. but it felt amazing to you... When you both were about to cum.. he increased his pace go max.. it was good.. infact it was the best part... And you both came at the same time..

"so good for me, look at how much you came"

He said resting his head on your head panting from cuming right into you...

they lay tangled in the sheets, their breathing slowing as the adrenaline ebbed. Max traced lazy patterns on her bare shoulder, his head resting against hers.

“I’m sorry for overreacting,” he murmured. “I trust you, I do. It’s just...sometimes I forget how lucky I am to have you.”

She turned to face him, her fingers brushing through his messy hair. “Max, you don’t have to be jealous. Lucas is a friend, but you’re the one I love. You’re my everything.”

His lips curved into a small smile. “I just don’t want to lose you.”

“You won’t,” she promised, leaning in to kiss him softly.

They stayed like that for hours, talking about everything and nothing—his next race, their plans for the future, and the little moments that made their relationship special. The vulnerability in their conversation only deepened their bond, and by the time sleep claimed them, the earlier tension was a distant memory.

In the quiet of the night, wrapped in each other’s arms, they both knew they had something unshakable.

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nopaintjustpain · 2 days ago

Text

Oculus: *doing a threat display @ Elias*

Elias speaking in Baby voice: aww are you gonna pluck my eyes out?? Who’s the big scary predator? You are!! Why yes you are!! Look at you so poofy! What’s got you all worked up, huh sweetheart?

(It’s fine, he knows Oculus is just playing.)

(Lore under the cut)

Elias has a huge soft spot for this Creature after enjoying its companionship for 200 years. It’s traditionally the companion of the Archivist and has been since the time of Alexandria, but the thing is fond of him too. It gets lonely, losing its Archivist every couple decades, and Elias is its longest lived friend. Also, Gertrude spent the last 50 years rejecting it :( She kicked it out of the Archives and refused to have anything to do with it, so it sulked in Elias’s office for a couple decades.

Elias got used to having it around. Then Jon came along and suddenly Elias is yesterday’s news. Elias can understand the appeal for Oculus — finally, an Archivist that loves it back after being chased away from its Archives for 50 years, and Jon is so primed and ready and perfect to be Beholding’s next avatar, so of course this Creature which is a pure manifestation of Beholding would be interested in Jon — but he MISSES HIS CAT GODDAMNIT. They’re about to get into an UGLY custody battle.

(Elias refuses to even call the cat Oculus because he thinks the name Jon gave it is very silly. It’s a timeless ageless aspect of fear?? It doesn’t need a name?? It pisses him off SO bad that “”Oculus””answers to the name. Him hissing under his breath at it like ‘this is beneath you!!’ while Oculus gets belly rubs and treats because Yes I Am A Normal Cat Thank You Please Love On Me

You know who else is loves that thing? Michael 👀

Oculus’s preferred method of feeding, besides fetching the Archivist fresh Statements of course, is to stalk and Watch someone until they start to question their own sanity. Surely that can’t be the same stray cat watching you at both home and work. You’re on vacation in Mexico, that is NOT the same cat. It’s totally normal that that cat is watching you, right? Like, completely unblinkingly. You never see it move but one minute it’s watching you from somebody’s garden wall and then when you pass out of sight and round the corner now it’s watching you from someone’s porch and when did it get past you?? Also the owl perched on the tree outside your window at night can’t be the same as that cat but maybe they’re in cahoots (pun intended) because you SWEAR it has the same eyes and the damn thing won’t just LOOK AWAY FOR TWO SECONDS. You’re changing clothes in your room with the curtains drawn and you swear you can feel its eyes on you. Then you turn around and there’s a cat on your bed and you DON’T HAVE A CAT. But it’s watching you, purring lazily, and there’s a door in your room that you don’t remember being there, which the cat entered through. Surely you just forgot that you got a cat. Yes, that must be it. You lay down for bed and the cat — a sweet, cuddly thing — drapes itself on your chest, purring the entire time, and GOD it’s heavy, so heavy you can barely expand your chest to breathe under its weight, and it won’t stop staring at you. You’ve never seen it blink. Surely you’re losing your mind.

(Michael and Oculus take turns with the victims depending on what the person ends up most afraid of: the so-called “”cat”” itself, or the certainty that they’re losing their mind. Sometimes Oculus plucks their eyes out and eats them, then sucks the dreams from their head like marrow from a bone. Other times Oculus tempts them into Michael’s door with the most adorable little meows. Michael is always polite and drops his little friend back off in the Magnus Institute with a careful scratch behind the ears.)

Michael Shelley remembers that cat. He never pet it when he was Gertrude’s assistant, Gertrude barred everyone from interacting with it and some quiet primal instinct told him to listen to her. But he left out tuna for it and he never chased it away. And now that he’s the Distortion he gives the GOOD scritches. Plus, the little guy has quite the impish sense of humor! Whenever it wants to go somewhere it can’t easily fly to, it’ll meow plaintively at a blank stretch of wall until a door appears to take it to an ideal ambush site from which to prank its next victim (or Elias or the archival staff). It’s a symbiotic Eye & Spiral relationship!

Meanwhile the Archival staff do Not understand why Jon is so unconcerned by the “”cat””. They’ve seen the shapes its body makes when it’s half in shadow, out the corner of their eye. Felt the Weight of its gaze. They don’t like its strange eyes. Don’t like the way it follows Jon around. But he’s so smitten with the thing, and it acts so Normal around him like it’s trying not to scare him away.

Occulus, the weird cat that belongs to the Archives acting as it's ever watchful guardian. It's a very normal cat, we swear. (With @nopaintjustpain~~)

#tma #magpod #the magnus archives #jonathan sims #elias bouchard #jon sims #the archivist #the watcher #friend art #my writing #collab

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love-byers · 3 days ago

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I feel like Mike’s confused on his feelings for El in s4 not because he doesn’t love her but because he can’t love her. The whole conversation in El’s room after the rink incident is Mike trying to prove to El that he does love her without actually having to say it. He’s telling her that she this incredible person (who wouldn’t love you) and that she’s being ridiculous for thinking anything less of herself. Saying “you know how I feel about you” instead of actually saying it. Saying “You’re a superhero and they’re nobody”. Later on in the van with Will we find out that Mike also sees himself as a nobody and I think it’s cause of how he sees himself with El. When El says ‘you don’t love me anymore’ Mike hesitates and stutters for moment like he’s trying to find it in himself to say those words but he can’t and I think because of that he feels inferior, he feels less than. He does care about a lot. He’s just utterly confused with himself like this amazing, incredible girl (with super powers for crying out loud) is right here and I don’t love her!! WHY!? How could I not love her? What’s wrong with me? She’s everything he SHOULD want and more and it stresses him out that he can’t love her. He wasn’t this stressed out s3 when she broke up with him. He was chilling on the couch eating chips thinking he did nothing wrong but this season he’s constantly in his head thinking about his feelings for El and feeling so down on himself and confused because he can’t love her how she should be loved. I think in s3 when he blurted out that he loved her I think it was a heat of the moment kind of thing and maybe he did think that he did love her then because if I care about her this much I must love her, right!? but when it actually came down to it he couldn’t write it in letters to her and couldn’t say it to her face when she needed him to.

yes i agree! mike is definitely very confused and i feel so bad for him. he's only 14 and he's being pressured to figure all these things out and do what others want of him. i think thats why he opens up to will and speaks ambiguously when he does it, he's hoping will, who has always understood him without words being necessary, would figure it out for him. but will just says he can say what he didn't say, and mike doesn't like that answer.

what triggered the change from his nonchalant s3 behavior to his s4 behavior is for sure the s3 epilogue. earlier in the season he says he loves el, then he tries to say it to her face and gets interrupted. he wants to say it, he wants her to know. he thinks he loves her. then in the epilogue, el does the hard part for him. she confirms that she loves mike, despite mike never saying it. he should be overjoyed. but he's not, because el reciprocating the feelings he thought he felt has made it all too real for him. el saying i love you made him realize he's dug himself in a hole that's gonna be hard to get out of. he's realizing this doesn't make him feel good, this isn't what he wants.

what does he want?

"--changing. And I guess...if I'm being really honest...that's what scares me. I don't want things to change.

So I guess maybe thats why i came in here. To try to maybe...stop that change. To turn back the clock. To make things go back to how they were."

he wants to go back.

mike is scared because he's realizing he doesn't want the things he thought he did. he thought he wanted to grow up and get a girlfriend and let his childhood go, let his friends go, let will go.

"What did you think, really? That we were never gonna get girlfriends? That we were just gonna sit in my basement all day and play games for the rest of our lives?"

"Yeah, I guess I did. I really did."

but now he's being faced with that reality. taking the next step with el, being in love with her openly and having her feel the same way. and all he can think about is will. all he yearns for is to go back to how things used to be, when he was happy and carefree and things weren't so complicated. he yearns for will. he yearns for the exact thing he implied was silly and outlandish and impossible in the rain fight. he wants to be in his basement playing dnd with will.

and i will say, a lot of mlvns think this is bad because its encouraging them to be childish, which is stupid. will confirming that he wants to spend the rest of his life playing dnd in mike's basement doesn't literally mean that's what he wants to do with his life. its coded conversation, it's a metaphor. he wants to spend his life with mike. when he's with mike, playing dnd in his basement, he thinks "i want to be here forever" because he's with mike, who he loves. mike, who is struggling with his feelings and internalized homophobia, has been conditioned to think that his relationship with will is childish and something he must grow out of, even if its what he wants. because after puberty you can't be all close and touchy with your male friends, you're supposed to start liking girls. his relationship with will is something he must let go of. he assumes will has thought the same, but he hasn't. this coded convo continues into the epilogue

"Woah, dude, that's the donation box."

"I know. I'll just use yours when I come back. I mean, if we still want to play."

"Well, yeah, but...what if you want to join another party?"

"Not possible."

mike is insecure that will is going to move on from him when he moves. will, however, never intended to. he is intending to come back to mike, to reserve mike's place in his heart. mike says "well, yeah" because of course he still wants to play with will, of course he still wants will, that's not the problem. he's worried that will is going to move on from him, that will is going to replace him. will puts this to rest. he doesn't want to play dnd if it's not with mike. he only wants mike, he never considered moving on from him or replacing him. it was mike who was insecure about that.

and this whole conversation happens right before the mlvn scene. mike and will just resolved the rain fight, agreed that they both intend to come back to each other indefinitely. then el comes in between that, makes that impossible. she loves him. old people say that to each other, people who have committed to each other for life. that's what mike is realizing he's in for. and he doesn't want that. he wants to turn back the clock. he wants will. and it scares him. he's not supposed to want that over a life with el. he's been gifted her love on a golden platter, so why doesn't he want it?? why is he yearning for the past??

so i think mike gets stuck in a weird limbo where he pulls away from will, but not fully, but also won't fully commit to el, aka avoiding the word love. he doesn't know what to do, or what he's supposed to want. he's insecure and afraid of his feelings. "We're friends! We're friends!"

then he's confronted by el about not saying love, and the s4 escapade of will essentially convincing mike to say i love you begins. at the very least, mike knows that if he says that, then it'll be a lie, and he doesn't want to lie. but he feels like if he doesn't say it, el will see no reason to keep him around. he feels like he has no worth outside of being her boyfriend. then will swoops in and tells him how great he is, and we all know what happened after that...

holy shit mike just kiss him on the mouth it would be so much easier than whatever this shit is

#byler #stranger things #will byers #mike wheeler #byler endgame #mike wheeler i know what you are #byler analysis #milkvan is bones #stranger things 4 #anti milkvan #mike wheeler analysis

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circus-clangen · 3 days ago

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YES I could just send this to u in dms on Discord and YES I'm sure u'd answer me there in full honesty cause u love meeee and I'm ur bestieeeee but likkkeeeeeeee where's the fun in that <3

At the end of the latest moon you put "Primum non nocere", which according to google translates to "first, do no harm". It is a phrase thought to have originated from Hippocrates, which in turn leads to the doctor's oath (or Hippocratic Oath) to respect patients' privacy, practice with integrity, provide the best care possible, and most importantly, to do no harm and minimize suffering when a cure cannot be found.

I'm willin to bet that this is in relation to Clownwish, not only because it's written right after the shot with him and the scissors but also. Resident medicine cat.

WITH ALL THAT BEING SAID is this an oath that Clownwish has taken? Is this something he will then break? Does this mean that to keep his sister with him he will break the oath? Again is this even an oath HE took in the first place? Or someone else took?

And the fact that Goldmask is the one holding Tiger and Trapeze in one paw and the circus in the other raises more questions. Is she orchestrating all of this? Is all of this to attempt to hurt Ring through Clown? Or to simply hurt Clown for the sake of hurting someone?

Or is all of this just the insane ramblings of a man desperate to connect the dots and standing in front of the corkboard connecting things that do not need connecting? The world may never know <3

A long and complex question, friend! And for that (and because I love you sm bestieeee), I will give a long and complex answer.

Clown has and feels no connection to the title "Medicine Cat". He never wanted to be one. Baby Clown was a seamster, taking after his mother; the only other option was to take after his father, and Ring was too talkative, too excitable, too exhausting for Clownkit. So he'd quietly watch and learn from his mama, of course borrowing her threads and needles when need be--all of which needed to be shared. But he also borrowed her scissors--something that could NOT be shared. Quickly growing tired of never knowing where they were, Goldmask directed the young Clown to the doctor's caravan, where she knew there were scissors to be found.

Ring had told Clown many times to stay away from any caravan he hadn't been give explicit permission to visit, lest he be take away by humans. But Goldmask had just given him permission.. and so off he went. He found his scissors, of course--the very same ones you see him with in the comic--but he also found needles and thread too! Only... no fabrics? Hm... what were the humans sewing then? Captivated by questions and all of those shiny bottles on the wall, Clown stayed in the Doctor's caravan for a very long time. Ring was thrilled. Clown was showing interest in being a medicine cat, something the clan needed! Though, Clown didn't show much interest in the holistic remedies Ring remembered from his old clan. He did however, eagerly eat up all of the reading lessons Ring pushed his way, so he could begin to read and study human medicine. Thusly and eventually, he came across the oath, "First, do no harm". And he understood it. But what silly cat would take a human oath?

Clown is not a Medicine Cat. If he believes in Starclan at all, it isn't a Starclan that at all resembles the real thing. And, well, when you don't believe in Starclan... you kind of need a different explanation for all of these visions you start seeing.

Clown knew his mother--dead now--was trying to speak to him. Only, he didn't know why. I've mentioned why... sort of. I've mentioned that Ring is the only one that can speak to Starclan--because Monkeypaw is the only one IN Starclan, and Ring is the only one that ever knew Monkeypaw. The same works for Goldmask. She can only speak to Ring... or Clown.

If all Goldmask had wanted to do was kill Ring? She could have made him do it himself; he's out of his mind and on the edge anyways.

But that's not all Gold is after. She needs to set the stage first; she's writing a play, and the Circusclan cats are her main characters. To get what she wants? She needs everything orchestrated perfectly. And right now? Clown is all she has to make that happen. "First, do no harm" echoes in Clown's head when he sees the scissors and the strings (vision in the latest moon). He doesn't know what Goldmask wants, but he knows what she wants him to do. Monkeypaw in Starclan, Goldmask in the in-between, and Clownwish sitting silent on the caravan roof all understand the same thing: there was never a choice for no harm to be done.

#circusclan #circusclan ask #clangen #clownwish #PHEW that's a long one #enjoy <3

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sinnabarmoth · 1 day ago

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Welcome Home

Pairing: Zayne x Fem|Reader

Prompt: Mini fic of Reader being a soft!dom with the lads. (Not necessarily sexual, just sweet 'let me take care of you' vibes.)

Word count: 1k

Links to the other lads: (Rafayel) (Xavier) (Sylus)

You heard the front door open and smiled. “Welcome home, how was work my darling?” you called to Zayne from the kitchen.

“I’m…alive.” he sighed.

“Oh dear,” you put the soup on low heat to keep it warm and went out to see him. Zayne was slumped against the front door toeing off his shoes. There were deep lines etched into his forehead, bags under his eyes, and his hair was askew from running his hands through it. “What happened? Something go wrong at work?”

“No. Nothing wrong but the amount of work being put on my plate.” he let you help him out of his overcoat. “I probably would have stayed later to get some more things done but I knew if I did that you’d come over and drag me out by the nape of my neck.”

“Damn right I would have. I haven’t spent the last couple years instilling a sense of work/life balance in you for you to backslide now.” you pulled him in for a hug. “You work so hard, you need to remember to take breaks when you need them. You’re not some machine.”

“I know,” he sighed, pressing his forehead to yours. “Which is why I came home. I know you’d force me to relax no matter what.”

“You know me so well. Now go on, get out of your work clothes and come join me for dinner. I made a very nutritious vegetable soup--”

“And you made sure to--”

“With no carrots. I know.” you rolled your eyes. “And I also bought taro ice cream for dessert.”

His eyes lit up at the mention of ice cream. “Is it possible we can have dessert first?”

“You know I’d do anything for you, Zaynie. But I spent an hour making this soup, you’re getting a bowl full of that first.” you gave his butt a little pat as you ushered him toward the bedroom.

You ladled soup into the waiting bowls on the table and sat down as Zayne reemerged looking much more comfortable. You let him complain about his day and vent his frustrations with the changes they were doing around the hospital that he didn’t think were actually necessary. Your feet bumped against his under the table, reminding him that he was home and didn’t need to worry about work any more tonight.

Slowly he started to relax and the life came back into his eyes as he ate the soup. There was your husband. You leaned across the table and took his free hand, stroking it lightly with your thumb. He looked up at you through the fringe of his hair.

“Something wrong?”

“No. I was just thinking about how all day all you do is take care of everyone else. People put you in charge of their health, the health of their friends and family, their very lives really. It’s a lot of pressure. It makes me worry sometimes that you forget to take care of yourself, let someone dote on you for a change.” you squeezed his hand. “I want to be that person for you.”

“You are that person every day.” a gentle smile grew on his face. “Every time I come home and see your smiling face I forget all my other worries. I know that you will always be there to take my coat and lift my spirits and tell me to just lay back and take it easy for the night. You have no idea how much I appreciate that, how much I appreciate you.”

“Aw Zayne!” you got up and kissed his cheek. “You really are the sweetest, my darling.”

“I’m just telling the truth. I can hardly remember a time before I had you in my life. I must have been a machine to have coped with it all.”

“You were never a machine. You just didn’t have someone to remind you to look after yourself. Sometimes people need someone to come in and remind them that they are a person too. After that, they learn to do it for themselves. Do you think the Zayne from a couple years ago would have left work on time when he knew he could get more stuff done if he stayed?”

He shook his head. “No. I would have been there till midnight, probably would have slept there too.”

“Exactly. Now look at you, you come home to me without me having to so much as send a text. I helped pull you out but you’ve been doing marvelously at keeping yourself afloat. I don’t want you to ever forget that.”

“My flower…” he gazed up at you with absolute love and adoration.

“And it looks like you finished your soup so if you still want it we can have ice cream now.” you said brightly.

“Yes, please.”

“So polite.” you ruffled his hair and grabbed the ice cream out of the freezer. You were going to scoop it out but decided to just grab two spoons and stuck them in the carton. “Since you worked so hard today and you’re being extra sweet I think we can have a straight from the carton kinda night. Have as much as you want.”

“Really?”

“Yes, really.” you sat yourself on the edge of the table and scooped up some ice cream with your spoon. “Want me to feed you as well?”

His face started turning red. “No--I mean, not unless you really want to.”

You chuckled and held the spoon out for him. He licked the ice cream off and once he had you bent closer and pecked his lips, chasing the lingering sweetness on them. You noticed when you started to pull away he leaned in closer, chasing your lips.

You smiled, cupping his face. “Is my doctor perhaps craving something a little sweeter than ice cream?”

He gulped, staring up at you through half lidded eyes. “I mean I wouldn’t mind…” he trailed off.

“Come now, my darling. You know better than to not finish your sentence.” you said in a quiet, coaxing voice. “What is it you want?”

“I’d like to go back to the bedroom, my flower.” he said, his spine straightening.

“Much better.” you pulled him out of his chair and quickly tossed the ice cream back in the freezer. “We can finish that later. Right now I think what my hard working husband needs is a thorough massage.”

#love and deepspace #lads zayne #zayne x reader #letterbox prompt

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itstheghostofmypast · 6 hours ago

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Missed Me?

Husband Choi Jongho x (F)Reader

Summary: Just a grown man missing his wife.

Genre: Fluff

Word Count: 1K

Est. Read Time: 5 min

Warnings: None

Rating: SFW

Networks: @cromernet @k-labels @illusionnet

Banner: @cafekitsune

A/N: I was gonna write Yunho's part today, but I dreamt about this and woke up sad- now ya'll gonna feel as delusional as I did.

Your body jerked awake at the sudden warmth, a shaky gasp breaking past your lips as you struggled against the newcomer but you felt him pull you closer mumbling in a hushed voice, “It’s me…sheesh, stop watching those crime documentaries”, causing you to huff in annoyance. You felt your tsundere man wrapping his leg around yours, and drape an arm across your waist, pulling you even closer, his nose buried in your neck, almost wanting you to become one.

“Jjong.” a faint whisper floated in the silence of the night, followed by a cracked hum. The soft cotton enveloping the two of you began to burn up, only for your tired mind to mentally begin the countdown for when your lover would toss it off both of you, using his body heat to keep the two of you warm instead- didn’t even need to count to ten, six seconds in and he had kicked it of the two of you, and much like usual the duvet landed on its usual place, the ground- you’d berate him for this again in the morning, like every morning, but right now something else was on your mind.

It wasn't often, moments like these were often rushed, the nervous touches, fleeting kisses, the gentle but swift caress of his fingers- physical touch was something Jongho was still afraid to use, regardless of how long the two of you had been together for, regardless of how long the two of you had been married for. Much like his emotions, he would keep the physical affection to a minimum.

For the initial part of the relationship, back in college, you wondered if he was even interested in you, other than that initial confession there was no real intimate indication of his feelings towards you, for quite a while. To some extent you had considered ending the relationship all and all, assuming he perhaps was not comfortable with you, perhaps you did not meet his expectations of an ideal partner, perhaps you two were still too young.

However, when the moment came you lost your nerve, especially when he gave you that sincere smile, his eyes crinkling and twirling like stars, all because you two had crossed your 6-month mark of being together, as he handed you a silly little gift, a polaroid of you two in a small bear keychain frame. That night, for some reason, you had begun to notice the little things about Choi Jongho, how he'd open the door for you but also ask for a payment, often an ‘Oh thank you, what a nice man you are’, how he'd end up pouring water for you even before you'd ask, how when you'd be walking towards the car or even to the restaurant you'd feel the gentle weight of his warm jacket, then see him trudging ahead mumbling to himself, “Why not wear a coat when it's cold?!”

Let's not forget the time you were cursing yourself for assuming ‘I can do it in one night’ during exam season, causing you to panic too, crying and memorising simultaneously. That very night someone magically appeared at your door, breaking into the girl's dorm, didn't matter to you though, especially when you were enveloped in a bear hug as soon as he saw your teary-eyed face. That night you realised Jongho was very much capable of giving great hugs and of course, a more physical kind of intimacy with him heavily depended on the situation. If it were you who required attention, he'd gently hold you, whispering sweet nothings in your ear, letting you cling onto him- but when he'd cling onto you, that would be a whole other story.

Choi Jongho was a clingy man, especially when he missed you. Something you figured out when you met him post-winter break, having him cling onto you at every opportunity he got, whether it be holding your hand while you were reading or giving you an endless back hug while you were cooking- and you’d be lying if you were to say that was not your favourite kind of Jongho. The kind of Jongho you got to be with on your wedding night, chuckling at the sound of him whining about how he still couldn’t believe this was true and you being you, you never let a single moment go to waste, teasing him about his clinginess whilst clinging back to your baby bear.

“Missed me Jjong?” Your sleep lusted voice tickled his ears, causing him to huff out in annoyance, causing the bed to tremor, the blanket being pulled up against you as he shifted, turning you around, much to your pleasure, and squeezing you closer. You chuckled at his childish antics, hugging him back, tucking your head under his chin, your hand pressed against his chest, feeling his warm, beating heart, “I missed you too baby bear…” with that you closed your eyes, it was difficult not to when he was so warm, so comfortable, so tender with you. Jongho glanced down to find your smiling face, it was funny how you were asleep, causing him to let out a sigh of relief. He knew the next morning he’d wake up to you nagging at him, yes, you had told him doing overtime would just tire him out more and he had ignored you, claiming you didn’t know any better. Incorrect, you knew too much for your own good, you knew him too much for his own good- and it terrified him, it terrified him how you could read through his facade of macho-ness, understand how he was feeling by just the way he breathed, sense his insecurities by the simplest of touches. Worse of all, you figured out how he preferred lounging around with you rather than going to work.

Gently wrapping his fingers around your wrist he pulled your arm across his chest to have you hug him as he did the same with his arm, subconsciously giving you a light squeeze, before burying his nose in your hair, taking in the familiar scent of your shampoo, calming down his nerves, simultaneously having his heart slam against his chest like a machine gun, somewhat afraid that the thumping would wake you up- little did baby bear know that the melody of his tender heart and warmth of his caring being was lulling you to a deeper, more peaceful state of sleep you’ve ever experienced.

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pali-and-proud · 18 hours ago

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Finale Thoughts

This is a very special thank you to all the Fast Passers. Y'all did amazing, truly, because I actively read anything and everything without any attempt to shield my eyes from spoilers and I still knew nothing. This post is dedicated to you guys.

Alright guys. You know the drill. Get the hot coco and strap in.

Lets start with Deacon:

Deacon acknowledging that Chase is more likely to interact well with Buddy is actually so good to see. It's so nice to see Deacon prioritize Prunella's safety and to be more comfortable with being put in "lesser" positions, like babysitting! (Think back to sick! Chase, and look at how far Deacon's grown)

Deacon and Prunella's talk: Prunella calling out Deacon for always talking about being great instead of just being great. That's so good, genuinely--Prunella shrugging and being self-confident and Deacon finally really hearing it. He needs to just be what he wants.

Deacon's relationship with horses symbolizing his frustrations with his inability to control his life was NOT something I expected and I openly applauded. That's brilliant.

Don't be mistaken: Deacon sacrificed himself. He knew the risks of making the horse play bridge. He watched the horse fall victim to the spread of the pages. The horse was still neighing when it's legs started to turn--Deacon could have yelled, but he didn't, because he was too focused trying to make sure that Chase and Prunella, at least, could escape.

The speech Buddy gave him, which I will reference so many times, about there being a time to be the hero and a time to be the helper, is SO applicable. Deacon "is happy to help." He isn't trying to be the hero, and he isn't trying for glory, and he just wants his cousin and his friend-ish to be safe. And it's specifically when he's not trying to be the hero that he ends up being the hero, by taking control of the reigns and getting Prunella to Chase and risking his life. He follows Bronze and Prunella's advice, and listens to the speech, and listens to himself: He stops asking for permission. He steps up. He becomes the hero.

Cannot wait to see Deacon's reaction when Chase undoubtedly tells him how they escaped. I can't decide if Chase is immediately going to say "Buddy and I kissed" or if he's going to say "I figured out an escape and stop asking questions" but no matter what, Deacon's going to be squinting at his cousin and groaning.

ALSO can't wait to see how this arc impacts his relationship with his parents. Like I'm so excited. A Deacon that's more confident being able to step forward and say "No, I don't want to devote my life to something I'll actively hate. That's ridiculous." might be the end of me ngl, I love him.

Prunella!

Prunella my love

Prunella my LOVE

She has this confidence that we only see falter twice: when she struggles with the other kids, and right now. And in both situations, she didn't know what to do, and she was in over her head, and she reminded us that she's just a KID

Her arc has been the exact opposite of Deacon's, and it's so cool to watch them both experience opposite lessons in the same arc. Deacon learning how to step forward and lead while Prunella learns how to step back and follow.

Prunella hearing, constantly, about how dangerous the books are and finally SEEING the books as dangerous. Prunella finally understanding why Deacon was so strict about the books she could travel in, because most of their worst-case scenarios came true in a single swoop.

Prunella also has not met Buddy yet. She saw him, described him as the mean guy, and then perished. Truly an icon.

I am so convinced that Prunella and Buddy would be friends. Even if it starts rocky, I think they both enjoy humbling the Hollow boys too much to not grow to like the other's presence. I can't believe I have to wait for season 2 to get confirmation of this but I am going to be so smug when I am correct

Chase:

CHASE

CHASE EVERETT HOLLOW i have never in my life ever loved a character like I love Chase. I talk so much about Buddy but that is me being a wing-woman, Chase my love Chase, I love him so much

Fun fact I didn't even like Buddy until the first Cinderella story. I was so convinced I wouldn't like him, but I resigned myself to cheering for Stargoth anyway (I was part of the Canvas/Discover Squad, i had a LOT of hiss hiss Buddy) solely because if Buddy made Chase happy then sure I'll accept it, and now i adore Buddy, Punko is just that good

Every single moment of Chase in this arc stole my attention. every single panel. God I could do a dive longer and deeper than my Buddy analysis but exclusively on Chase during the finale arc. i could do it exclusively on Chase during the finale. I could do it on any singular panel.

Chase being guilty about lying to Buddy alone was heart-wrenching, but Chase literally only got more and more heartbreaking. Him constantly trying to help everyone--the keys, for example, with a resort for them to enjoy--only for things to go wrong--the resort, for example, drowning the book. He just wants to HELP

Buddy was 100% correct in calling out Chase for pinning the blame on Deacon, but what he didn't realize is Chase wasn't trying to do that. Chase truly felt terrible, and he truly wanted to apologize, and him bringing up Deacon was him being honest and factual because he did argue with Deacon about it, but he did end up listening to Deacon. And Buddy gets more frustrated because Chase is misunderstanding the problem--it isn't Chase hiding Prunella, it's Chase refusing to trust Buddy

And when you think about it. Chase absolutely has no reason to. Chase doesn't even know his name WHICH I WILL TALK ABOUT LATER bc kdjfherigh but! In Chase's eyes, yeah why would he. He's literally desperate to have Buddy prove that hes legit and good and kind and Buddy keeps shoving that away (Buddy saving Deacon's life and then pointedly not mentioning that, for example).

It's also the fact that Chase is trying so hard to stay optimistic despite such extreme levels of guilt. It's the fact that he stays clutching to that persona of optimism even after seeing paper! Deacon and Prunella, and it's only when he's staring at a bleeding Buddy that the full situation sinks in

Chase finally breaking. Oh my God you dont know how long I was waiting to see Chase splinter apart. This is a kid trying to do the impossible, and every single time something goes wrong, he feels like it's his fault. The book got destroyed? Buddy got betrayed? Admitting that he doesn't trust Buddy? Getting way less narratonin than Deacon or Prunella? He blames himself for all of it, first and foremost, and it's finally on full display

Chase even trying to send Buddy away? Pushing and pushing because he is so desperate to save someone, anyone, even though that's literally a death sentence for him. And he doesn't hesitate, either--it's practically instinct, even though Chase would never agree to leave if the roles had been reversed.

And like...augh Buddy hugging Chase, and Chase hugging him back? That was painful enough, but you add in Chase admitting that he doesn't want Buddy to leave?

This is not the post for me to point at Chase and accuse him of abandonment issues, but know that I am pointing at Chase and I am accusing him of abandonment issues. I am looking at him feeling hurt that Deacon left him in the Toffee arc, I am looking at him constantly repeating that he's not going anywhere, I am looking at him running to apologize to Buddy after spending so much time bitter about Buddy avoiding him, I am looking at his avoidance of talking about his mom in situations where "My mom is dying and this is important to me" would be really helpful, and I am thinking accusations

But anyway

Chase and his abandonment issues: literally all he wants is for someone to stay, safely and securely. His mom, Deacon, Silver, Buddy, even his dance partner. He's always at risk of losing someone, and he's about to lose everything, and all he can do is admit that he just wants Buddy to stay, because he's scared

Chase you are my sun you are my stars you are my whole solar system I will give you the world

Also, I absolutely knew the repeated comments about Chase being an idiot would get to him. Chase is SMART, guys. He's perceptive. He knows when he messes up, and he tries to look past the mistake and into how to rectify it, but that doesn't mean he isn't aware that he did something wrong. And people (Buddy) kept snapping that he was stupid, or an idiot, or ridiculous, bc Chase would make a mistake (or stick by a decision), and he would NOTICE that people thought it was ridiculous. He just didn't care, because he was either sticking with it, or trying to fix it.

And he DOES. He notices the words in the sky, realizes the solution, figures out the entire thread behind the stories (they want to be enjoyable and they want to have a good ending), and explains it all to Buddy. Chase figured it out, because he's so much smarter than everyone assumes.

Anyway Buddy hugging Chase and telling him he can stay a while longer (this is a scene burned into my heart) (more on that later) and telling him he's not stupid and that he's trying his best is SO important. This might be the first time in the entire story that someone finally sees Chase. Someone finally prioritizing Chase and putting Chase's wellbeing first and telling Chase yeah sure maybe you messed up but you're doing the impossible every single day and you're TRYING.

And for it to be Buddy? Like ignore the romance entirely--if someone who always insults you and is notoriously difficult to please tells you "No, you're not stupid. You're trying your best" while hugging you? thats the most sincere thing in the world. that's tears immediately.

Chase suggesting kissing is also askdjns because (again, ignore the romance part of it)--he always skips the kissing scenes. We know thats because he wanted to save his first kiss, and he's the one who offered. Yeah, okay, sure, it was life or death, but Chase didn't hesitate, and didn't weigh his options, and didn't even consider saying "a kiss on the forehead would probably suffice." guy went straight for "i need the mouth to mouth"

the grin. The bright eyes. the pressing fingers to his lips. He's so happy, so genuinely happy.

I truly, truly, TRULY cannot wait to see what this means for our idiots. I can't wait for someone to try to have a conversation and for someone else to not want a conversation, or for them to be so awkward with each other, or for Deacon to want to skin them both, or for WHATEVER turn this takes. And im SO happy for Chase.

Buddy:

I wrote this whole thing and it just deleted. i am furious

NOX

NOX I LOVE THAT NAME NOX NOX NOX

Punko i cant believe you were worried we wouldnt like it. nox nox nox nox nox i love that

okay first: the two theories for key Nox, as they are rn, are 1) that Nox has always been the villain key, or 2) that Nox was tricked/manipulated/experimented into becoming the villain key.

1) If he'd always been the villain key, it makes sense why he never told Chase his name. Chase would have immediately told Silver and company, who would have had to stare at Chase and ask them if he had a crush on their brother

1) if he'd always been the villain key, his distrust of Chase could be explained by him distrusting all humans. This would follow course with him also being frustrated by Deacon, which yes was partly because of jealousy but also partly because Deacon was a new key holder.

1) ALSO of course he was a nightmare about Chase with the key--he had no reason to believe Chase would treat the keys well. it's also possible that he knew Silver had a crack, and thats why he helped Chase in the first cinderella book--so that Chase could meet Silver.

2) if he BECAME the villain key, it makes sense why he never asked Chase details about his key. Why he never asked about Silver or Bronze, or if they were okay, or how they were settling, despite routinely trying to get details about other factors of Chase's life. He assumes Chase is selfish, true, but he doesn't ever accuse Chase of being cruel with them.

2) if he BECAME the villain key, the line of "Don't you want to be human again" holds a lot of power. Yes, it's possible that the keys were once people and Nox wants to go back to that, but its been CENTURIES.

2) if he was always the villain key, the line of "Don't you want to be human again" would be applicable to all the keys, bc it would assume they were all human once (obligatory Keys are People Too mention, it's an amazing ao3 fic by incomple shoo go read it). Silver, Bronze, AND Goldie never mentioned that, and Punko likely would have foreshadowed it earlier.

2) if he BECAME the villain key, it makes sense why he wasn't included in the dream Silver had! Where she dreamt about her family!

2) if he BECAME the villain key, his constant reference of Silver as "the key" or as "it" also makes sense. Earlier, like episode three or so, he mentions needing to get Silver back before the old man returns. It's Silver specifically, without mentioning trying to track down anyone else.

2) if he BECAME the villain key, his name being objectively different from the other keys makes sense. Silver, Bronze, and Goldie were all named after the metal they were made from! Violet is purple! Yes, Nox means night, and yes, Nox has a moon on his back, but if Goldie isn't called Sunny, then I would argue Nox's name should count as way more subtle than everyone else's.

anyway theres a lot of points on either aspect

I could do into the character growth of Buddy, but I'm actually going to focus on the hug. Not the kiss, even though it's nice to see the fixation on Chase's hair stays strong, but Buddy immediately recognizing a hug is needed and immediately giving him one.

Buddy love language is touch, or something

Chase says "I think we need to kiss" and there's not a single arguement from Nox's lips. He literally stares at the sky, turns slowly, and goes "Not a problem"

actually the whole "I've never been the hero. Not even in my own story" goes so strong when you remember the speech he gave Deacon about needing to act as the hero, the helper, and whatever other role when need be. Nox was given the chance to be the hero, and he took it. "I'd like to be your hero" isn't just a romantic one-liner to preface a kiss--it's Nox genuinely saying that he wants the happy ending that Chase always skips. And Chase, this time, doesn't skip it.

Nox, returning back to his space with Violet, immediately says he doesn't think he can keep doing this. But he wants to be a human, more than ever, which implies that "keep doing this" isn't just travelling into the stories, but doing something additional. Something that, we can infer, is hurting Chase.

i am wrapping this up its snowing outside and i cant feel my fingers, how do you snow people do this

if you read all of this! grab a treat <3 hope you enjoyed and love you all

#happy birthday fastpassers #cinderella boy #chase hollow #cinderella boy webtoon #stargoth #buddy #buddy cinderella boy #i live in the hot place #and its snowing #so ive been in the snow #all day #because it NEVER snows #this was a once in a lifetime opportunity #i had classes and i pretended that i was sick #lied in the snow and let the snowflakes bury me

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vacz · 2 days ago

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SOME HUNTER AU DOODLES! And this time WITH FULL COLOR YEIIII!!!!

I realized how most of my drawings don't have colors on it so I decide this time to paint some of the concepts, mostly of how Woodsman Wirt finds his new victims (which is the main point of the character--)

Now, how does he chase down people with a axe when he is carrying a huge bunch of breaches on his back? He just threw all that away and then came back to grab them all on the floor (They are already cut so...). When Wirt appears it is like playing the Russian Roulette, you don't know what to expect from him, BUT there is a way to tell: If he is the one to get closer first then you can be sure this guy is about to kill you. Wirt doesn't usually search specifically for victims... unless he needs more ellewood, in that case there is no way to convince him to not do it so you better pray you are faster than him.

And about the other doodles, some are like: how he wants to hold on himself on this "good boy" etiquette the Beast puts on him, you know, looking for aprobation to know if he is doing something 'right' and to be wanted despise his gruesome actions. And the other is Wirt being the beast's pet, and how much Wirt needs to feel affection, but since he can even make friends with other people, the person he has left is The Beast. The Beast's skin is literally wood, cold, with a bunch of holes on it, but Wirt would accept anything as long as it holds him tightly and affectionally

And finally the little comic is of @wirtpilgrim 's headcanon about Hunter Wirt having a small beard- I went with the whole 'being hairy' later. The reason why I liked it is because it actually makes sense, he doesn't really grow older and is basically in his eternal 17-18 limbo state but his hair DOES feel time, so if his hair did grow as much in his head... why wouldn't in the rest of his body?

Look, I know it's kinda weird I also made Wirt jacked in this AU but if you let me explain--

Okay! I hope you guys enjoy it! ^^#

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icarusredwings · 2 days ago

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Sleep over

A mini miscommunication fic ft. Moonspider and an abandonment episode from his dear friend Wade. Also ft. Hot dad Logan. If that even matters-

No tw.

*Peter Parker and Wade, texting*

Spidey: Yeah that was really cool especially seeing as I thought id have to take you to the hospital again

Wade: Right!? Who even knew you could drive a motorcycle with your legs ripped off?

Spidey: haha yeah. Hey, going to hop off a little early.

Wade: Was it something I said?

Spidey: No, no Im just beat and Jake's spending the night

Spidey, Error. Not sent: He's back from London for a bit so he needs some spider snuggles lol

Spidey: See ya Wade. Goodnight 🕸🛌

Wade, now complaining to Logan: Can you believe this?!

Logan, wearing his reading glasses: Hm? Oh is it the text tone thing? Here let me see *takes the phone and reads the messages* Ha.. is he saying he's webbing himself to bed? With that little emoji there?

Wade: Yes! b-but thats not the point! (God youre so hot when you act like a dad)

Logan: mmh.. well I am a dad. So.. but if thats not the problem what is? It's friendly tones, wade. Im sure he's just beat. I mean he did practically spend the entire day with you..

Wades: Whats that supposed to mean!?

Logan: 🤨

Wade: ....yeah okay.. but that weirdo is over there! What if he needs help!? Im going over there!

Logan: *sighs* Wade, Peter is a grown man.. He can do what he wants, bub. You can't protect him forever.

Wade, already getting dressed: The fuck if I can't!! No one hurts my special boy! Not even me!

Logan: Wade, ive literally seen this kid throw an entire 18 wheeler like it was a pebble. He'll be fine. Besides, maybe this will be good for him. You did say he was struggling with girls-

Wade: Gasssp!! Lolo thats not nice. Even I know that. Peter can have any girl he wants, they just aren't his MJ. Thats why im here. Duh. Im his Marvel Jesus and he needs me.

Logan: *groaning ridicloudly hot by just existing* What ever you want, babe. But this might ruin your friendship with him. Maybe he spent all day with you because he knew you'd get unnecessarily jealous.

Wade: i-Im not jealous!! Im just gonna make sure hes okay! Thats what friends do!

Logan: Whatever you say sweetheart... ask me youre kinda being a cockblock-

Wade: Thats the point!! Now bye! Ill pick up chinese on the way home. He lives next to that one place and that lady adores me!

Logan: the one that says 'please leave me alone and dont ever come back you cursed demon'?

Wade: No, thats the other place.

Logan: mmh.. my mistake.. Don't loose any limbs. And don't make anyone else loose any limbs either. No stabbing, dont get shanked by that homeless guy on the subway. Still confused how he keeps getting away from the cops...

Wade: this is new york sweetie, theres gotta be at least one stabber on the loose at all times. You know, to keep the people on their toes! Anyway- Ill be home soon! Gotta go stab a hoe!

*slams door*

Logan, alone, reading: *sighs, again* ... I just told him no stabbing...

*At Peter's apartment*

Peter, opening the door: Wade? What are you doing?

Wade: I came to save you!

Peter, rubbing his eyes: From who??

Wade, pushing past him into the appartment: You know who!!

Peter: *Groans annoyed and tired* Do you really have to do this tonight?

Wade: Yes!! Now where is that knock off batman fuck?

Peter, mentally: batman ?? *imagines a man with a bat who hits people with said bat* 'im bat man!'

Peter: What? Nevermind.. just.. don't wake him up. *gestures to him passed out on the couch*

Snkt, laying on his chest: *licking him and wagging his tiny tail*

Moonknight, sprawled out, waist webbed to the couch so he dosn't roll off: heh.. Layla.. stoopp.. ZZzzz

Wade, realizing just how bad he assessed the situation: ...... Whos Leia?

Peter, smiling softly, making Wade keep his distance: Layla.. shes like.. his Vanessa.

Wade, immediately changing mentalities: Nessy??

Peter: Mhm.. It's kinda complicated having multiple people in your body that want different things soooo....

Wade, dumb: Soooooo???

Peter: So.. it makes sense to have multiple partners.

Wade: But.. but he lives in London and hes always gone. Thats not fair to you..

Peter, semi sorrowful: Yes... but Lady Death is always gone too. And you still enjoy your time with her right?

Wade: My mistress? My eternal wife thats destined to be mine once god finally lets me kick the bucket? Of course. I think about her all the time.

Peter: ...He's kind of like my lady death. Except I don't know if we'll end up in the same place... but its fun to be along for the ride of life you know?

Wade: Thats some deep shit.

Peter: Mhm..

Wade: well... alright. Fine.... b-But what if he hurts you??

Peter: I'll just web him to the wall until he calms down. It was his idea to web him down in the first place. It won't be the first time, Definitely not the last... and you know? He's not as scary as what people think. If anything he's just... scared of Himself. Like a poor dog waiting for someone to take him home who wont return him the moment they find out he has teeth...

Wade, smart: Oh... OH!

Peter: Shhh. What is it?

Wade: He's your wolvie.

Peter: What?

Wade: He's like your wolvie!

Peter, thinking: Huh... Yeah I guess you're kind of right. Now if you don't mind I have a shift tomorrow.

Wade: Mmmh... Im still worried though... i dont know why..

Peter, putting a hand on his shoulder: Wade, You aren't worried about me. You're worried im going to replace you. But that's not ever going to happen. You're funny, a great friend, and- No offense but- Like the craziest guy ive ever met. No one could replace that.

Wade: What about the joker?

Peter: Who the hell is the joker??

Wade: Nevermind. Wrong franchise. B-but are you sure? That you don't need my help??

Peter, slightly annoyed but in that fond way: I promise to call you If I ever feel like I need help.

Wade, feeling better: ..Pinky promise?

Peter, sighing, knowing how much He needs this: Pinky promise... now get out of my house before I throw you out myself.

This scene ends with Wade laughing, a hug, and wade leaving. Jake sitting straight up mid sleep, staring at him with concern, possibly from a nightmare, and peter reassuring him he's fine and can go back to sleep. And Logan having half cold chinese with his husband on the couch, glad that Peter is so understanding about Wade's abandonment issues.

#moonspider #marc spector #steven grant #jake lockley #moon boys #peter parker #spiderman #friendly neighborhood spider man #moon knight #deadpool and wolverine #poolverine #logan howlett #wade wilson #deadpool #wolverine #deadpool 3 #deadclaws

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mischievouslittlecreature · 2 days ago

Text

Part 26: Do You Love Me

Summary: As Lucy continues to pull further away, Tommy tries to bridge the growing schism between them.

Word Count: 6,398

Warnings: Angst, insecurity, suicidal thoughts, chronic pain, sexual harassment, and references to infidelity and sexual content.

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Chapter 11: Kiss Me Where I Break

Tommy was beginning to worry that he might have broken her.

She said next to nothing the entire train ride from Birmingham to London, all his attempts at initiating conversation met with one word answers or just quiet hums in acknowledgement while she stared out the window. Eventually, he just gave up and decided to leave her alone.

The past few days had been utterly hellish. He kept forgetting that Lucy wasn’t at the house anymore. He’d be in the throes of work, and call out for her, only to realize a second later that no one was coming. She wasn’t a simple holler away anymore.

He missed her almost more than he could bear. He had gotten so used to her always being there. Right by his side. To help him, to talk to him. To just…be there when he needed her. It was like someone had amputated one of his limbs.

But being around her during the workday did little to soothe the ache of her absence. Both because of the guilt that chewed away at him at every glance into her sad eyes, but also because something had undeniably changed between them. There was a schism between them now, ever since he had told her about Lizzie’s deal. Lucy was more distant, more subdued. Like the bright spark that she always carried with her had been suddenly snuffed out. He missed her, even when she was standing right in front of him.

He wanted his Lucy back.

For a while, he had thought that perhaps she was immune to him and the darkness that he carried. And yet in the end he had sapped out her light; broken her like he did everyone else close to him.

He rolled his unlit cigarette between his fingers as he strode down the hallways of Westminster. Frustration crackled beneath his skin. His meeting earlier that day with Aberama had gone well. Aberama had agreed to postpone his planned killing of McCavern. And he was planning to propose to Polly. But despite the recent string of accomplishments, Tommy felt no joy or relief. If anything, he felt even worse.

He couldn’t help the prickle of jealousy he felt towards Polly and Aberama. How fucking lucky they were, to actually be marrying someone that they truly loved.

He eyed the golden band on his left hand disdainfully. It felt more like a shackle than a wedding ring.

Pushing open the door to his office, he chanced a glance at where Lucy was sitting, bent over a few documents with her fists pressed to her temples, elbows on the desk in front of her. Her lips were tilted downwards. Next to her, the fresh bouquet of sunflowers he’d sent was perched on the edge of her desk. He opened his mouth, considering asking her if she wanted to go out to dinner, then closed it. Why bother? He already knew that she was going to say no.

Still, worry festered at the edges of his already frayed mind, longing to fix what he had so stupidly broken. He needed her. Everything was ten times harder without her there to lighten the load. He hadn’t even fully realized just how much he’d come to rely on her emotional support until it had been ripped away.

He didn’t know what to do to make any of this better. They had never had problems before. Sure, they’d had their squabbles and arguments from time to time, but they never lasted long. When it came to Lucy, this was entirely new territory for him.

Wandering into his own office, he tossed the folder of papers he was holding down, reaching for the decanter usually filled with whiskey only to find it empty. Scowling, suddenly deeply irritable, he opened a drawer and snatched the large bottle inside, taking a slow swig. A soft sigh left his lips, eyes briefly slipping closed as the cool liquid slid down his throat.

With the meetings with McCavern, Chang, and Aberama, he had barely had time to stop to catch his breath.

Without even so much as a knock, the door to his office opened, and, of all people, Mosley came slithering in. Tommy quickly stashed the bottle back into the drawer and wiped at his mouth, turning to face him. Those dark eyes of Mosley’s narrowed, voice doing little more than to set Tommy’s teeth on edge as he discussed the invitation Tommy had extended to him to the ballet performance at Arrow House for Lizzie’s birthday. As the conversation continued, Tommy moved to sit in his chair behind his desk, suddenly eager to have some sort of barrier between them.

Mosley eyed him up like an animal waiting to pounce when he started speaking of his past acquaintance with Lizzie. No doubt hoping for some sort of reaction from his words. Tommy kept his hands laced tightly in his lap, hoping that the other man didn’t see the way his fingers tightened against each other.

“Well, if you recognize her, maybe you can talk about old times, eh?”

“Maybe, if we have met before, your wife and I could even renew our acquaintance. I am invited to stay the night, yes?”

It was becoming increasingly hard for him to remember why he continued to tolerate Mosley’s presence. With each passing moment the temptation was growing stronger to grab the gun in his drawer or use the blades in his cap to slice the man to pieces. Or to perhaps call Lucy in and have her deal with the fascist piece of shit. That could be fun.

Speaking of Lucy, perhaps now would be a good time to let Mosley know about the research he’d asked her to do on the MP.

“I too have done some research, Sir Oswald,” he allowed his eyes to narrow a fraction. “Yeah. I researched your wife. And your wife’s younger sister. And your wife’s stepmother, Lady Curzon. All of whom you are fucking. If such things were to take place on a narrowboat, the church would get involved.”

“But…” Mosley’s voice was but a whisper, “it’s not happening on a narrowboat.”

“No. It’s taking place in your apartment, in your country house, sometimes even in your office here in the House of Commons.” He clicked his tongue disapprovingly. “So no secrets. And yes. Yes, you are invited to stay the night with whichever member of your family finds favor. Now, if you don’t mind, I was about to leave. I need to lock up my office.”

Mosley looked at him for a long moment, smoking casually. “Funny,” he said finally, “how disapprovingly you speak of my liaisons. Considering that lovely redhead that you always keep so close to you. Pretty thing. A bit plain, for my taste, to tell you the truth, but still. Lovely.” Tommy’s stomach churned. “Tragic past too, poor thing. She’s been working for you for many years now, hasn’t she?” Mosley cocked his head. “And I hear that she has quite the array of talents. Tell me, was it her that you had do your research on me?” He didn't wait for a response. “Wonderous job, if it was. Very few people know about my particular relationship with the Lady Curzon. Perhaps I should borrow her, at some point. I’m sure that she could be of the utmost use to me.”

Tommy felt like he was going to throw up. Mosley took another long, slow drag from his cigarette, eyes not once leaving Tommy’s.

“Actually, I will come alone,” he said, finally, in response to Tommy’s invitation. “In society, you are judged by your hospitality. I will expect adventure.” He leaned across Tommy’s desk to put his cigarette out in the ashtray. Tommy was certain that if he had to hear that man lecture him one more time about the ‘rules of society,’ he was going to scream. Mosley straightened. “Such rogues we are, aren’t we? Sing like songbirds in the House. And then afterwards, relieve ourselves in the bodies of whomever we choose. Two men for whom forbidding is forbidden,” he raised the little paper that was his invitation, “should be quite the party.”

Tommy managed a smile that was more of a grimace, and Mosley finally, finally slunk his way out of the office. He pressed a hand to his face once the door closed, mind whirling. The idea of letting Mosley near Lucy or Lizzie made his skin crawl and stomach heave. And yet he was going to do it. To let the man waltz right into his home on an invitation. His hand trembled. Neither of them deserved him. Lucy’s sad eyes and Lizzie’s resentful gaze danced in his mind. He should have left them both alone. They would be better off now, if he had. Rather than latching onto them and dragging them down with him into the depths of hell. He’d only wanted to help them, and yet all he had accomplished was ruining their lives. And that wasn’t even counting this current mess he had made. A mess that he had no idea how to fix without hurting at least one of them.

His eyes flickered down to the topmost right drawer of his desk, hand pulling it open almost of its own accord. The gun sat atop the papers stacked inside. Tommy let his hand fall from the handle, eyes still fixed on the gun. He leaned forward with an exhale against his desk, head bowed and eyes squeezed shut. There was a breath echoing in his mind. Slow and steady with its inhales and exhales. He rested both hands on the back of his head, rubbing at the skin in an attempt to quell the swirl of self hatred that he was drowning in. The room was suddenly very dark and cold.

“You have to listen to the voices that you hear.”

His head snapped upwards, eyes wide open. No.

“Do what they tell you to do.”

The breaths were continuing. Her breaths. Her last breath as she died in his arms. Yet another one of the women in his life that he failed despite the amount in which he cared for her.

“You don’t even have to rub the lamp anymore to summon the genie,” Grace continued to speak from where she was standing in the corner. A shiver ran down Tommy’s spine. Grace raised a hand, and dangling from her fingers on a chain was the massive blue sapphire, the one he had locked around her throat. His greed having sealed her fate. “It wasn’t the blue stone, Tommy. It was you,” she pressed the necklace to her chest. He could hear her heartbeats now, a rapid thumping in his head. The drip of blood running from her chest to the floor. Tommy’s hand tightened into a fist. He couldn’t look at her. At those accusatory eyes. “It was you.”

There was a soft knock on the door. “Tommy?” Lucy’s voice called.

The breaths and heartbeats faded away. Grace vanished from sight. Tommy leaned backwards, squeezing his eyes shut tight and exhaling. “Just a minute, Luce,” he choked out. He forced deep breaths to pass through his lips, pushing the panic attack down with each one. Eyes finally opening, he pushed the open drawer with the gun in it closed, sitting up and straightening himself out. “Yeah?”

The door cracked open and Lucy poked her head in, a folder tucked under her arm. She stepped into the room, walking to his desk and holding the folder out to him. “I need you to sign these.”

He took the folder from her, scribbling his signature on the dotted line of the documents inside. Lucy passed a hand over her hair.

“I sent Adam home. What did Mosley want?”

“To talk about ballet.”

She snorted. “He’s really coming then?”

“Yep,” he handed her back the folder.

“Goody for us,” her voice dripped with sarcasm. Tommy grunted in response. Lucy tucked the folder back under her arm. Her brown eyes swept over him, carefully. “Are you alright?”

Tommy rubbed a hand over his face. “Yeah. Just been a long day.”

She didn’t look like she believed him, but nodded, heading back towards the door. “I’ll go get these filed.”

He watched her disappear out the door. “Thank you.”

He remained reclined back in his chair for a few more minutes, until his breathing had fully evened out and he felt a little less like if someone touched him he might collapse. He glanced back towards the door that led to Lucy and Adam’s office area. When this business was done and the mess between them straightened out, he needed to do something nice for her. He tried to think back to the last time they had done something, just the two of them, that didn’t have anything to do with work in the past several weeks. His brow furrowed at the conclusion that he couldn’t think of anything outside of stolen kisses and touches in dark corners or in her room at Arrow House. Tommy frowned, lips pursing together, another wave of guilt slicing through his being at the way he had been unintentionally neglecting his lover. He realized, with a shuddering of utter horror, that he could not remember the last time he had even simply held her.

Shaking his head, Tommy reached into his pocket to check the time on his watch. It was getting late. He stood from his chair, locking up the drawers in his desk that housed sensitive documents, stuffing a few files into his briefcase, and heading out the door, locking that too behind him. Lucy was sitting at her desk, riffling through some papers. He gently touched her shoulder.

“It’s getting late,” he said softly. “We should lock up.”

She looked up at him, nodding wordlessly and beginning to stack the papers she had been working on, slipping them into a folder and locking them away in the filing cabinet kept in the corner. Tommy watched her cautiously. He reached out a hand to wrap around her wrist, brow furrowing at how cold her skin felt.

“We could go to the apartment tonight,” he offered. He knew it wasn’t much. Certainly not enough considering what he was putting her through. But it was the best he could think to offer at the moment.

Lucy looked down at the floor for a moment, and when she looked up at him those dark brown eyes were shiny.

“Lizzie’s bringing Charlie and Ruby up to visit the office tomorrow,” she reminded him gently. Tommy blinked. He had forgotten. He’d promised to show them around Westminster and then take them all out to lunch.

“So?” he asked, fingers remaining wrapped around her wrist. Lucy gave him a look.

“I’m assuming that you’d like to be able to hold your daughter’s hand while you show her around?”

Alright, he definitely deserved that one.

“And you have an appointment this evening with Dr. Brooke.”

“I remember,” he sighed, letting go of her wrist and shoving his hands deep into his pockets, eyes glancing out the window while he frowned. “It’ll be too late after I'm done to go back to Birmingham.”

“I was thinking that while you’re at your appointment I’d follow up on some research on Mosley’s associates,” Lucy added. “And I need to pick up Lizzie’s birthday presents.”

“And what did I get her this year?”

“A diamond necklace she’s been eyeing in the magazines. Part of the same collection as those earrings you got her in Paris that she likes so much.”

He touched her face lightly. “Whatever would I do without you?”

Her lips twitched upwards into a small smile, though her eyes still looked sad. Tommy let his thumb stroke over her bottom lip. He just wanted to see her smile again. A real smile. The kind that she would often shoot at him from across the room at family meetings or during the workday. Mischievous and bright and warm enough to thaw even his ice cold heart.

“Alright, I’ll go to my appointment and run some errands in town. You go pick up the gifts, do your work. We’ll meet back at the apartment.” At her raised eyebrow he held up his hands. “We just won’t fuck. I promise that I won’t try to maul you.”

That earned him a small, amused snort. “You think Lizzie will believe that?”

He sighed deeply. “Let me worry about Lizzie.”

Lucy nodded. “Okay,” she went to grab her coat from its hook. Tommy wetted his lips as he watched her, reaching out again to touch her arm lightly.

“Maybe…maybe after Lizzie and the kids have gone back home…”

“A day on either side, remember?”

“Yes, but we could still plan on the day after…”

“Why does it matter so much?” she asked, voice suddenly sharpening. “It’s not like you’re not still getting any.”

Tommy had to suppress a flinch. “It’s not the same…” he tried to argue softly. Lucy sighed and looked away, fiddling with her rings. He cocked his head, taking a cautious step towards her. “And what about you, eh?”

Her breath came out in a shaky exhale. “I’m fine.”

“You’re clearly not…”

“Can we talk about this later, please?” she looked around the office, shifting uncomfortably. “Not here.”

Tommy wanted to argue, because not speaking of it was driving him mad. But he held his tongue. He was worried that if he pushed her too hard on it, she’d just retreat even further away inside herself. Besides, it would give him the opportunity to keep working on Lizzie and coming up with his own solutions to the problem. Any conversation that they had about it was surely to go better if he came to her with a potential fix already in hand.

“Okay.”

She gave him a grateful look, shoulders relaxing at the reprieve. Tucking his hands into his pockets, he cocked his head.

“What time do you think you’ll be back?”

“Late. Probably around midnight. Maybe one.” That wasn’t uncommon when she was doing her spy work for him.

“Be careful.”

She smiled another smile that still did not quite meet her eyes. “Always.”

He watched her leave with his hands shoved deep into his pockets, worried frown set like stone onto his face.

∗ ∗ ∗

Lizzie sighed, flopping down onto the couch in one of the large sitting rooms in Arrow House, the children playing in front of her on the rug near the fireplace. She smiled softly as she watched them, appreciating the way Charlie played so gently with his half-sister. Such a sweet kid. She wondered, sometimes, if that was what Tommy was like. Before the war.

Long fingers adjusting on her cigarette, Lizzie’s eyes caught on the chessboard sitting on the table, the little pieces all arranged into their starting positions. A memory of Lucy sitting down unceremoniously in front of her one evening, chessboard clutched in her hands, played within her mind.

“Play with me, Lizzie?” she had asked, widening those big brown eyes at her. Lizzie had shifted uncomfortably, suddenly embarrassed.

“I don’t know how to play,” she admitted. Lucy shrugged.

“That’s alright. I’ll teach you,” she spoke without missing a beat. At Lizzie’s apprehensive look she groaned dramatically. “C’mon Lizzie, please? I’m bored. Tommy’s busy. No one else will play with me,” she had flashed her that teasing, mischievous smile. “I’ll be your best friend.”

It had been hard not to relent, when Lucy was looking at her so hopefully, eyes dancing and playful. One game turned into several, and soon it had become a sort of tradition between the two of them.

Lizzie frowned at the sharp ache of missing the little redhead that throbbed in her chest.

Her absence felt like a gaping hole had been ripped open in the middle of the house. Everyone’s moods–even the staffs’--had taken a turn towards melancholy. The children weren’t as joyful when they played. Cyril was depressed and barely eating. Trouble paced the halls while crying, but hissed and scratched at anyone who so much as tried to come near her. The horses in the stables were gloomy.

A chill seemed to have swept over the entire house. Even the fires lit in the hearths at night didn’t seem as warm. Tommy spent most of his time holed up in his office, his mood somehow even darker than it had been before. He yelled at everyone more often. And one evening, when she couldn’t sleep and had wandered down to the library for a book, she was pretty sure that she heard him weeping.

What the fuck have I done?

Head falling back against the couch, Lizzie breathed out an exhale of smoke tiredly. Her glazed over eyes watched Ruby play with one of her dolls, raising her cigarette to her lips for another drag.

Ever since Lucy had moved out, she had been considering what she wanted to do.

When she had put the phone down after calling the solicitor in London, she had made the decision to stay. But not for Tommy. Not really. It had been for the children. For the house. For the luxury and money and status that Tommy had gifted her when he signed their marriage license. All he’d asked for in exchange was that she care for his home and children, and allow him to be with his lover.

She had made a promise, when she married Tommy. She had swore to him that his relationship with Lucy would be allowed to stand. That she wouldn’t interfere, or make things difficult for them to be together. She had promised the same thing to Lucy.

Poor Lucy, who had only ever tried to be her friend.

Christ, she hadn’t even realized how big of a presence Lucy had in the house, in all their lives–in her life–until she was gone.

She fucking missed her. Missed the way she always seemed to sense when Lizzie needed a break from the kids and was happy to take them off her hands for a few hours. Missed the way she’d always make her an extra cup of tea whenever she fixed one for herself. And how she would help her during her horse riding lessons when she was able. Or when she would fold over the pages in the catalogs that they got of the things that she thought Lizzie might like.

She missed how she’d cover her over with a blanket every time that she fell asleep on the couch because she worried about her getting cold. And the way that she urged for Tommy to do things with her on their own every once in a while, be it just them or with the kids, even though Lizzie knew that it hurt her to see them all together like that.

Yes, they had clashed a lot. Even more so than usual, as of late. But they did have some good times mixed in there.

She passed a hand over her eyes, swallowing down tears. Tommy had said that he probably wouldn’t be home tonight. She hadn’t been able to muster any disappointment at the news. Only deep relief. He had become unbearable to be around. But in a different way than he had been before. Prior, they had always been fighting. But now, he just seemed so…sad. With Lucy around he was still Tommy, with his closed off expressions and gruff words, but his eyes were a bit softer. And he smiled more, even if they were just subtle little quirking upwards of his lips.

“Mommy?” Ruby asked, glancing up at Lizzie from where she was seated on the floor. Lizzie looked down at her.

“Yes, my darling?”

“Where’s Lucy?”

Her throat went dry. The children had asked her several times where Lucy was, and she had never been able to give them a straight answer, unable to bring herself to tell them that she likely was never coming back.

“She’s away at work, sweetheart, remember?”

“Is she coming back?”

Lizzie hesitated. “I don’t know, honey.”

Ruby returned her gaze to her doll. “I hope she comes back.”

Lizzie cocked her head. “Why’s that?”

When Ruby looked up at her, her wide dark eyes were filled with wisdom far beyond her age.

“Because Daddy’s happy when she’s here.”

∗ ∗ ∗

“Hey, do me a favor?” he asked Ada. “When that kid of yours arrives, keep it away from me,” he turned before he could really see Ada’s reaction from her place seated on the steps, heading for the door.

“Tommy,” Ada called out. He turned back. She was worrying at her bottom lip nervously, eyes darting about a moment before focusing back up at him. “I heard that Lucy left you.”

“She didn’t…leave me,” Tommy said, hoping that he was successfully able to hide his wince at the word. “She’s just not living at Arrow House anymore.” He narrowed his eyes. “Who told you?”

“Arthur mentioned it.”

He shook his head. Looked down at his feet. Arthur and his big fucking mouth. “You can say it.”

“Say what?”

“Say that you’re surprised that it took me this long to fuck things up with her.”

“That wasn't what I was thinking.”

“Yeah, well, then you’d be the only one,” it came out bitter, the taste unpleasant on his tongue.

“Tommy…” his sister started and then just sighed, shoulders slumping. “I’m sorry.”

“Mm. Good-night, Ada.”

He walked back to the apartment miserably, opening the door to be greeted with a dark entryway and an equally dimmed sitting room. He pulled off his cap and stuffed it into his pocket, taking off his coat and hanging it up on the hook next to Lucy’s.

He found her curled up on her side in bed, already asleep. He changed out of his clothes in a daze, sliding into the open space beside her. For a moment he just stared at her. Taking in the soft material of her silk maroon negligee, red hair spread out on the white pillow.

He wanted very badly to wrap his arms around her. To hold her against his chest like he had almost every other night they had shared a bed. But he didn’t know if she wanted that. Any attempt he had made over the last few days to bridge the growing gap between them had only seemed to succeed in her pushing him even further away. He didn’t know what to do.

He wasn’t sure what it was Lucy really wanted anymore. It had been her idea to leave. Perhaps she had finally realized what he was: a monster that corrupted and ruined everything he’d ever touched.

∗ ∗ ∗

When he woke up, it was to find that Lucy was no longer beside him.

He reached out, half asleep, only to find her side of the bed cool to the touch. Frowning, he raised his head, blinking open his heavy eyelids and squinting in the dark of the room. No light was sneaking in through the curtains. It was still night outside.

“Luce?” he mumbled. The ensuite washroom door was open, the light off. No Lucy there.

Pushing himself up, he felt a frown twist his lips downwards. Did she so badly want to get away from him that she’d gone and slept in the other room?

His eyes finally landed on the sliver of golden light sneaking in through the crack under the door. Head cocking, he climbed out of bed, snatching up one of his white henley’s and pulling it on over his naked torso. The fuck was she doing out in the sitting room in the middle of the night?

He found her sitting on the couch, the lamp on the end table flicked on. For a moment, he didn’t entirely understand what she was doing. Her back was curved forward, both arms bent so that her hands were reaching backwards towards her shoulder blades. As he watched, her hands flexed, scratching and pressing at her skin, as if trying to massage it. A little whimper emitted from her throat.

Then he understood.

He should have guessed that this would happen. It had been raining pretty hard when he visited Ada’s, and the cold and wet always seemed to make Lucy’s shoulders act up. Plus he had to figure that the mattress she was sleeping on at Charlie’s wasn’t all that good for her back, either.

He wished she would let him at least get her a suite at the Midland to stay at. Even if just for herself.

Hurrying around the couch, he sat down beside her, hands reaching for her shoulders to try to help.

But at the first brush of his palms across her back, she jumped and jerked away.

“N-no…” Her face whipped around to stare at him, and he was met with distraught, teary dark eyes. The very sight was enough to hurt him to his core.

“I can help,” he said, half begging.

She sniffled and wiped at her nose with the back of her hand. “I can handle it–”

“I know you can,” he told her gently. “But you don’t have to.” He saw something waver across her face, his hands reaching tentatively out for her again. “Please, let me help you.” Don’t make me sit by and watch you suffer through this on your own too.

Her bottom lip trembled a little, eyes searching his, and then her shoulders slumped, face angling towards the ground while she nodded in consent. Moving slowly, half afraid she would spook again, Tommy rested both hands on her back. He started up rubbing at her skin slowly, searching out the spots that he knew always gave her the most trouble.

Lucy let out a deep breath, and he felt her relax a little under his hands.

At least I can do this for her.

“There you go,” he said quietly. “It’s alright. I’ve got you.”

She let out another little hiccupping sob. He wasn’t sure if it was in relief over the pain being lessened, or from his words. Either way, he shifted a little closer to her.

“Did you take your pain killers?” The doctor had given her a prescription to use in the event that the pains ever got especially bad.

She nodded. “Haven’t kicked in yet.”

He sat there rubbing her shoulders for a good thirty minutes, until her spasmed muscles had relaxed and the pain medications started to do their job.

“Let’s go back to bed, eh?”

Lucy wiped at her eyes. “Okay.”

She let him shepherd her back into the bedroom, curling up on top of the mattress, watching him flick off the lights and get in next to her, pulling the blanket up to tuck around her.

“Sorry,” she whispered, after they’d both been still for a moment. Tommy stared at the outline of her next to him in the dark. Tentatively, he reached out, stroking his hand through her hair.

“It’s alright.”

∗ ∗ ∗

“Lucy!”

She turned, smiling and scrunching her nose at the two little figures running towards her. She stooped, bending down to press a kiss to Charlie and Ruby’s foreheads.

“Hey kiddos,” she squatted down to their level. “How’ve you been? Have you been good?”

Ruby nodded her head as her voice chirped out a sweet little, “yes.”

At the same time, Charlie cast her a mischievous look. “No.”

“No!? What do you mean, no!?” Lucy cried playfully, reaching around to tickle the boy's sides while he squealed. He looked so much like Tommy when he laughed, it was almost frightening. She pulled the two children in for a hug. “I gotta get back to work, okay? But you two have fun with your mum and dad, alright?”

The children whined but relented, Ruby shuffling back to grab onto Tommy’s hand while he smiled softly down at her. Lizzie ruffled Charlie’s hair affectionately, expression loving as she looked at her step-son. Lucy smiled at her awkwardly.

“Good to see you.”

Lizzie nodded, eyes not quite meeting hers. “You too.”

“Right,” she looked at Tommy. “I gotta go help Adam with paperwork.”

He nodded, expression difficult to read, though she thought that she could see a regretful glimmer enter his eyes when he looked at her. “Alright.”

She nodded in return, waving and flashing a smile at Charlie and Ruby before ducking away. Watching from her desk, she looked on as Tommy ushered his children and Lizzie out of the office. He and Lizzie were both sporting wide smiles. Lucy huffed out a breath, nodding to herself. Good. That was good. They were happier now. Finally at peace with their little family.

Now if only her heart would stop hurting.

∗ ∗ ∗

They met with McCavern that evening along with Uncle Charlie to confirm the plan for distribution of the opium.

“Now who’s this fine lady?” McCavern asked when he spotted her, eyes shining in the lights of the lanterns as he looked her over.

Lucy smiled thinly, taking his hand and shaking it when Tommy introduced them. What the fuck was it with these fascists and their constant leering?

She took a seat next to Charlie, listening to Tommy deal with McCavern. He was bad, that much was obvious to her, even without taking into account what he’d done to Bonnie. But he didn’t make her skin crawl as much as Mosley did. So that was something. Unlike Mosley he was just loud and obnoxious.

Tommy and McCavern shook on their deal, and Tommy poured them all a drink.

“In the firelight, your hair looks like the color of blood, love,” McCavern whispered in her ear, breath tickling her neck as he leaned down to pick up his cup. Lucy tensed, fingers tightening around her own mug. McCavern chuckled and pulled away. From across the table, Tommy’s jaw tightened, clearly having taken notice of the encounter.

But he said nothing.

She understood why. McCavern was volatile; their peace pact fragile. He couldn’t be risking upending that all just over a half flirtatious remark.

But still, it stung.

Maybe he didn’t really see her as someone worth expending the effort to protect anymore.

“You’ll use the cheque guarantee from Mosley to officially connect him to McCavern,” she guessed after McCavern and his men had left.

“Yeah.”

She nodded, raising her drink to her lips.

“I’m going inside,” Charlie announced, standing. He gave Lucy a pat on the shoulder as he passed her and they said their goodnights. And then it was just her and Tommy again.

Tommy cleared his throat. “Are you still coming to the ballet tomorrow evening?”

She swiped a hand across her face. It was Lizzie’s birthday tomorrow, and in celebration, he was having a private ballet company come to his house to put on a production of Swan Lake. A ballet about love, apparently.

A particularly paranoid part of her brain wondered if they’d chosen a romantic ballet specifically to rub her nose in it.

Jealousy pulsed through her. Lizzie always got the big, grand public displays of love and affection. She got to go to fancy theater productions with him, and expensive restaurants. When he won awards and made speeches, she often got mentioned by name in his thanks towards those who had helped him get where he had in life. And at every lavish function, she got to be on his arm.

Even before she’d moved out, Lucy had always been relegated to the shadows. Their relationship could never be known publicly. Their dinner dates were at home, where no one could see them. Or maybe the rare picnic out in the wilderness. Assuming they had the time for dates at all. He’d never be able to throw an extravagant party in her honor.

Looking down at her hands, she frowned. “Wasn’t sure if I was still invited.”

Tommy looked at her sharply. “Of course you're invited.”

“I’d hate to ruin Lizzie’s birthday with my presence.”

“You won’t. She knows you’re invited.” His brows pinched. “She made sure that an invitation got sent to you herself.”

The furrow in Lucy’s brow only deepened. Why the fuck would she do that? Maybe she was trying to remind her of her place. To make sure that she saw the massive effort that Tommy had gone to for her.

“I don’t want you to feel like you have to come if you really don’t want to, but…” Tommy wetted his lips, looking uncomfortable.

“Mosley’s coming,” she finished for him.

“Yes.”

“And you want me to come babysit him.”

“Not…babysit. But I might need you for any business we may conduct while he’s there.”

Of course. He didn’t want her there to enjoy herself. He wanted her there to work. Silly her.

God, when did you get so bitter? she asked herself, cringing at her thoughts.

“I’ll be there. Don’t worry.”

Tommy exhaled. “Thank you.”

“Mhm.”

“I might not be able to come pick you up with all the preparations that need to happen, but I’ll send a driver.”

“Don’t bother. I’ll ask Polly if she can drive me.”

His brows shot up nearly to his hairline. “You want to ride to Warwickshire with Polly?”

“Want is a strong word. But it’ll free up one of your drivers to go pick up some of the other guests. Besides, she’s been a little nicer to me lately. I think Aberama’s been putting in a good word for me.”

He examined her for a long time. “If that’s what you're comfortable with.”

She nodded.

They stayed there for a while, both looking out towards the darkness of the canal.

“I need to be getting back,” Tommy sighed. His hands had slipped into his pockets at some point.

“Okay.”

He made a move as if to approach her, then stopped. The soft glow of the lanterns cast sharp shadows across his face. She could just barely make out the reflection in his eyes.

“Good night, then.”

Before she could reply, he started to walk away, the darkness that surrounded them seeming to swallow him up once he passed the touch of the lanterns.

She stared out into the dark.

No kiss. No I love you. No touch.

“Good night,” she whispered. Even though he was already gone.

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