#honestly though i could gush about any of the songs if prompted

[scalpho]

!!! you've seen the great comet too? :D what're your favorite songs from it... it's such a good musical that i have difficulty choosing favs myself, it really just depends on what i feel like listening to. pierre's usually the one i immediately pick, but even letters or sonya alone has its place for me...

one of my favourite musicals ever (if not my definitive favourite)!! as you say it's SO hard to pick a fav song but i've always loved sonya & natasha, even though i wouldn't call it tgc's best song. pierre is also a very solid choice. and the abduction (especially the last minute of it) is real fun

[infernalrevenge]

Okay, so this is a spur of the moment sort of idea, but is it possible to have a headcanon of the four lords with a s/o who has terrible memory loss. And I don't mean forgetful, think more along the lines of Fifty first dates, like she greets one of the lords and they get talking, lords end up coming back cuz they liked their positive attitude, but when they come to visit again, s/o greets them like they've never met. Does that make sense?

Yeah I think I get what you're saying, though I never really watched the full movie HAHAHA I've only seen half of it but I know how it goes down. Hopefully, whatever I've come up with satisfies your idea :P

To stay true to the idea, reader here has anterograde amnesia -- characterized by not being able to retain short-term memories. They're aware of their own condition.

----------

Alcina Dimitrescu

Understandably, she'd be confused, caught off guard that you didn't remember the time you spent with her.

Honestly she might be so confused that she'll forget to be offended -- not that it would have ever occurred to her that she was bad company in the first place. You were so pleasant to be with too, so... what went wrong?

When you explain it all to her, you might actually be surprised at how quickly she gets it. Definitely isn't the strangest thing she's ever heard of. She knows too what it's like to be around someone with terrible memory -- her patience with Moreau is astounding and one she doesn't extend to just anyone.

(But you aren't "just anyone" to her. You were a warm presence, a ray of sunshine in that time you spent together, however short. She wanted to get to know you better, and if that meant putting much more effort into maintaining that connection with you, then it's nothing she can't do.)

She'll creep her way into your mind (and heart) through song. She'll invite you to the castle and teach you serenades and classical pieces, you sing while she plays the piano. It doesn't matter to her if you sing off-key or add your own silly lyrics -- if she's being honest, sometimes she even prefers your versions.

Every now and then, you do forget the notes and the words, but Alcina doesn't have a problem with going over them again if you hear a "new tune" you found interesting. It's a good thing too that she loves music so much.

One day, she might even catch you humming them while you sit with her in a comfortable silence. You may not be sure exactly how you know the song, but you're glad you're able to make the Lady smile by doing so. Maybe you'll try to learn the words next time.

Donna Beneviento

...was she really so unpleasant that you already forgot about her and the day you spent together?

She'll be so embarrassed if you don't remember who she is, thinking that the other day was a mistake and that she was just imagining the connection you two had. Not to be dramatic but she'll definitely run away in tears.

The best way to remedy the situation is to go after her right away and try to explain the situation. She might not even believe you at first, her anxiety initially convincing her that you made all this up as a way of rejecting her, or that this was all a mean prank. But if you're patient enough, she might come to understand it.

In the process of becoming part of your life, she'll definitely make something that will eventually remind you of her, or someone like her. She just wants something that would stick with you, ideally something tangible.

One day she'd gift you with a doll in your likeness, complete with its own clothes and accessories. She might even include a very small doll in Angie's likeness to go with it, to serve as that reminder.

Once you do get close enough, she says that she would rather have you call her "Donna" than by her formal title. Though this frequently slips your mind, it's no trouble at all for her to remind you. Besides, it's quite cute to see you say her name like you're trying it out for the first time, even if it may have been the eleventh. She loves the way you say her name.

And when it finally sticks to you after enough repetition and you greet her like that without prompting? Her heart just flutters.

Salvatore Moreau

Moreau has always known that he has terrible memory, but after meeting you? He's starting to doubt exactly how bad he could really have it.

As a former doctor, he might recognize the diagnosis you give him after explaining it and he goes "Oh.... Oh!"

He'll be so relieved it's not because you wanted to let him down gently by feigning forgetting the memory of what was literally yesterday (but also he'd understand if you did, he almost threw up on you in excitement. Come to think of it, maybe it was best you didn't remember that part.)

Still, he'd be determined to spend a lot of time with you and become a part of your working memory somehow. Though he knows there's no cure for such an affliction, he'll want to make an effort to include some aspect of himself into your routine.

He'll write you little notes and letters, about how wonderful you are and how you make him feel whenever you two are together. He'll give you a journal so you can write about all the cool things you want to remember later on (and part of him hopes you write about him too.)

(And of course you write about him, who would ever want to forget about the sweet doctor fish man who just wants to be loved and a part of your world.)

One day, he catches a glimpse of one such diary entry -- and he only knew that because he saw the cute little doodle you made of him, along with a small heart next to it. He swears he never meant to pry, but he thinks about it for days and days. He's never been happier.

Karl Heisenberg

Oh he'll be mad at first, for sure. He's likely the type to express first and ask questions later when it comes to these matters, but the anger is more out of confusion than genuine offense.

If you try to explain it, he may just think you're lying at first. "If you wanted me to leave you alone, you could just say so," he'd say. But at the same time, there'd be such a sincerity in your voice that it would be hard for him to keep denying it. Fine... maybe you're not pulling his leg then.

You can't tell me that this man doesn't make trinkets in his spare time. He can be a big mean metal worker all he wants but I can also picture him having made a keychain or two in his life. Maybe even a necklace. They're not perfect or polished by any means, but he just likes making little things with scraps left over from bigger projects.

That said, he'll give you some without much of a second thought. He probably ask you first if you want to keep any the first time you stumble upon his messy workstation at the factory. They looked pretty neat, so you took some of them home.

You might find yourself fidgeting with the moving parts of it, trying to rack your head and remember exactly where you got them and how. Was it on a trip? Did you get these as souvenirs? Why did one of them look like an electric fan with legs?

Sometimes you'll show him all this stuff and talk about how cool they looked. Your favorite might be the one that looks like a hammer, but the fan with legs was a close second. You tell him to be careful of the sharper parts though (wouldn't want him to get tetanus.)

He may or may not get a little embarrassed as you gush about your "new" trinkets. You might offer to give some to him that he likes but he insists you keep them, especially since you like them so much.

[garbagevanfleet]

Brightest Blue (series)

PART FOURTEEN

Pairing: Josh x reader Warnings: mentions of sexual content, feelings, cigarettes Summary:  Things are changing. New state. New school. New roommate. You just pray things are going to click into place.

Notes: HI EVERYONE! I’m sorry I’m so inconsistent lately. I promise that the next chaptered fic I write, I’ll only start posting it when I’m done writing it. I hope you like this chapter - its incredibly sappy because I’m on my period lol

As always, big thanks to my beta, @lantern-inthenight​ <3

taglist: @valleyd0ll @satingrass-maidensfair @guitarfingers @thebohemianpenguin @peaceisouranthem @oblvions @hansonobsessed @myownparadise96 @anditsmywholeheart @kill-fear-the-power-of-lies @bigblack-catattack​  @dharma-divine​

MASTERPOST

“Remind me again why you want to ride separately from your brother?” You looked pointedly over at Josh, who was smiling as he ran a soapy rag over the plate you’d just finished eating off of. 

“I already have to spend my whole winter break with my family, no need to rob myself of alone time with you,” he explained like it was obvious. 

A huff escaped your lips. You pushed away from where you had been leaning against the counter and wrapped your arms around his neck from behind. You laid your head in between his shoulder blades, feeling him turn to nuzzle his nose against your arm as it laid on his shoulder.  

“We spend so much time together - like every day - which I’m obviously grateful for,” you said, half-muffled by the material of his sweater. “But don’t you think it just makes more sense to carpool?” 

You couldn’t see his hands, but the movements you could feel told you he was wiping the extra water off of them before turning around and pressing your chests together. His lips lightly brushed your temple as he spoke. 

“You’re right,” he agreed, though you knew him well enough to know he wasn’t about to just relent. “It does make more sense - I just don’t want to.”

You let out a breath, frowning as you tried to figure out if you should say what you were thinking. After a moment of working up the courage, you cupped his jaw with your right hand, knowing full well that the sweet gesture would help him swallow the discomfort your words would cause. 

“Josh,” Your voice was low and quiet, but as you met his eyes, you chickened out. They were so honest, looking at you like your presence was the only thing keeping him grounded - like if you left, he’d just cease to exist. You made a mental note to have a talk with him about that at some point, but you decided it would have to be after you’d returned from Christmas break. 

“Hm?” You must have been contemplating too long, prompting his features into a look of concern. You couldn’t bear it. 

“Jake is going to ride with us,” you said decidedly. “I already told him he could.”

That was a bit of a lie - he had mentioned it a few days ago and you had said you’d run it by Josh, but you had just made up his mind for him.

He huffed a laugh as he rolled his eyes playfully at you. “Sounds like you’re already communicating better with my family than I have in months.”

“Well,” you started, giving him a pointed look - the kind you only give when you feel confident that you’re right. “I think that would mean communicating with them at all. Honestly, Josh, I know you-”

You were abruptly silenced as he placed his forefinger across your open lips, a half-smirk on his face. 

“It’s okay,” he assured simply. “He can ride with us.”

A smile spread across your face underneath his finger. “Good. Have you started packing?” Your words were muffled under his touch.

“Eh,” he replied with a noncommittal shrug, lowering his hand to brush his thumb across your chin. 

“Do you want help with that?” you inquired cheekily. “Because, you know, we leave in two days.” 

He appeared to consider it for a moment before nodding. “Actually, yeah, that sounds nice. You can sit on my bed and watch while I pack really inappropriate clothes for the occasion.”

You half-snorted out a laugh, rolling your eyes because you knew that’s the reaction he was aiming for. “How about I just pack for you?”

+++

For the first time since knowing him, you saw Jake Kiszka wearing a jacket. It was long and dramatic and nearly brushed the top of the snow as he made his way out to your car with a leather duffle bag in his left hand.

He opened the rear, passenger-side door and tossed his bag in next to yours and Josh’s before sliding in next to it. 

You greeted him cheerily, to which he shot you back a smile as a reply.

“You’re actually wearing a coat,” you noted as he pulled the seatbelt over his form and buckled in.

He hummed amusedly, reaching into his pocket and popping a stick of gum in his mouth. 

“I’ve found that he doesn’t usually dress like a slut to go home,” Josh replied instead as he turned a lighter around in his palm, absent of the task. 

“And if I didn’t wear a coat home, I’d never hear the end of it.” 

Josh nodded in agreement, and then you watched a shit-eating grin spread across his lips. “I’m kinda surprised Kate isn’t coming with us today, to be honest. Are you waiting until Easter just to make sure?”

You were busy pulling out onto the road, so you didn’t see it, but you could imagine Jake deeply rolling his eyes at the question. 

“I would bring Kate home - it would make me truly happy to physically see Mom die a little inside when she starts trying to talk about amphibious breeding cycles at length during dinner,” he mused, voice clear of any kind of sorrow. He finished simply and with a smile, “But she isn’t my girlfriend.”

“I don’t know, it seemed a little sus when I showed up at her house in the morning and you were already there, chillin’ with her dog,” you replied in a sing-song voice. 

“I wasn’t already there, I was still there.” You felt him place a hand on your shoulder, and slap his other one against Josh’s. “Not all of us have the luxury of just being able to pop down the hall.”

“Fair enough,” you relented, feeling your face flush warm. 

“Or the shower. Or the kitchen that one time,” Josh added unhelpfully, making your eyes immediately pop open. 

“Josh,” you scolded and quickly considered reaching over and slapping him, but decided it was unsafe to drive and strike a passenger at the same time. 

“No, this is good,” Jake assured through a smirk you could hear. “Let him get it all out before we get there.”

Josh snickered back, “You’re such a prick.”

+++

The Kiszka homestead was almost impossibly cozy. There was a basket of blankets by the big sofa (much nicer and fluffier than the blankets at your apartment, which had been flattened and matted to the point of complete defeat) and the furniture was centered around a glowing, stone fireplace. Josh’s mom had hugged him for a long moment upon your arrival - a gesture that made your throat feel tight as you watched her fingers flex in the material at the back of his shirt. 

She was sunny and kind to the point that you could clearly see Josh’s mannerisms reflected in hers, and the dinner she laid out on the dining room table seemed impossibly large to you, having come from a home with just three people in it. 

When she asked you how you liked Midwestern cooking, you gushed about it for - what was undeniably - too long. You’d never say, but you weren’t positive that part of it wasn’t just not having had a real home-cooked meal in months. 

You had come to decipher that Josh had told his family that you were just a roommate that didn’t have a place to go for winter break, but you were pretty sure you’d be able to tell the nature of your relationship if you were on the outside looking in - you seemed to be magnetically drawn to wherever Josh was these days. 

Everyone cleared out of the living room pretty quickly after dinner and conversation, and you finally got the chance to ask the question that had been on your mind all day. 

“Do I sleep out here?” 

You were posted up on the couch, your legs crossed one over the other with Josh staying a few inches farther away from you than you were used to.

“No,” he replied. “You can take my room and I’ll sleep out here.”

You had asked mostly as a formality - you hadn’t figured that you’d actually have to sleep separately. Through a slight frown, you said, “Oh, man. It’s been a while since I’ve had to sleep alone. What if I freeze to death?” 

He flashed you a smile. “I thought ahead and laid a heated blanket out on the bed for you.”

“Heated blanket? This whole time heated blankets were an option?” you whispered harshly.

“Okay, in my defense, by the time I remembered that they existed, we were already sleeping in the same bed every night.”

The suspicious way you stared at him for a few moments had him biting back a laugh - one of those unguarded ones that seemed to be reserved for people he was really comfortable around. Which seemed to just be you most of the time. 

“Will you at least come get ready for bed with me?” you asked, subtly looking up at him through your lashes. 

“Of course - no puppy eyes necessary,” he assured with a snicker.

This room was decidedly different than the one back in Ann Arbor. Josh’s space back in the apartment was mostly made up of Earth tones - either picked by choice or having just dulled over time. There were little pops of color scattered around the room, like the golden yellow rug that spread across almost all of the wooden floor, or the string of flags that spanned the entire wall above his bed. 

This room was different. You could tell that his parents had tried to clean it up since Josh had moved out, but there was still evidence of spots where posters were hung on the maroon red walls. A stack of comics laid on the dresser - the surface of which was covered in residue and paper where he had placed stickers and then tried to peel them off. 

You eyed a well-used keyboard placed along the far wall, and what appeared to be milk crates full of sheet music and the idea of him sitting in front of it and practicing for hours brought a smile to your lips. 

He hauled both of your bags up onto the bed and you both picked through them for the sleep apparel you’d packed. You watched him change into a short-sleeved tee and a pair of loose flannel pants through the bathroom mirror as you brushed your teeth across the hall, and when he caught your eyes, he gave you a smirk. 

You’d been half expecting him to change his mind and just crawl into bed with you, but instead, he helped you clamber under the covers and pulled the comforter up to your chest. 

“Wow, full service tuck-in and everything,” you teased, but quickly shut up when his thumb brushed over your lips. 

“Well,” he mused, voice low. “Not the full service.”

You gave him a sour grin as he backed up to the door and flicked the light off. 

“Good night, Joshua.”

+++

The next couple of days came and went easily. You were starting to get actually acquainted with his family - chatting with his mother and sister over morning coffee, and getting pinned between his brothers on the sofa while Christmas movies played in the background.

You really hadn’t realized how much you missed being around family until it hit you at dinner one night. You watched out of the corner of your eye as Josh unscrewed the lid on the salt under the lip of the table and then asked Sam if he wanted any. 

Josh was just about to slide it across the beat-up wooden surface when you snatched it out of his hand, pointedly tightened the lid, and then slid it over. 

When you peeked over at him, Josh was glaring at you, but he wasn’t able to stop the mischievous smirk that his mouth took the shape of. 

Sam huffed a laugh that sounded more like a scoff, having figured out the plot quickly after seeing the look on Josh’s face.  

“Samuel, do me a favor and dump the whole shaker of salt on your potatoes,” Josh requested in a faux-sweet voice. “Please and thank you.” 

“Piss off.” Sam’s reply came through a mouth-full of food, but somehow, he still managed to look lovely while saying it. However, that didn’t save him from his mom’s scolding look - though whether that was in response to the harsh language or speaking with a full mouth was anyone’s guess. You guessed that a person never got to grow out of being “the baby”. 

It was then - that simple moment - that you realized how oddly welcomed you felt in this setting. It hadn’t been awkward or uncomfortable even once. You’d never felt out of place despite how different it was from your own home experience. 

After you were settled into bed that night, you laid awake thinking about nothing and everything. You didn’t feel particularly tired, but you had decided to turn in when Josh started dozing off on the couch while you were watching the tv on low volume. 

You had no clue what time it was, as your phone was charging across the room, but at some point you heard the distinct sound of a door creaking open. It was just down the hall - that you could distinguish -  but you weren’t positive which room specifically. The person made their way down the hall, and then up a creaky set of steps, though you could tell that they were trying to move quietly when they got to the next floor and the cadence of their steps changed to something lighter. 

You thought about it for a moment before pushing the covers off of you, crawling out of the warmth of the nest you’d made, and slipping your feet into a pair of Josh’s fuzzy slippers that were just barely peeking out under the bed frame. Trying to be as quiet as the last person had been, you crept up the stairs in the low light, having to strain to see the steps in the unfamiliar space, lest you lose your footing. 

The room at the top of the steps was a study, and on the other side of it was a large, sliding glass door. And on the other side of that, was Jake, sat out on a covered patio with a cigarette in his hand. 

You crossed the room, grabbing a blanket off of the worn leather sofa and wrapping it around yourself as you moved. 

He barely turned his head to look at you as you slid the glass open and stepped out onto the porch. The brisk air hit you hard enough to nearly knock the breath from your lungs, so you pulled the blanket up your body until only your head was showing. 

“Sorry if I scared you.” The volume of your words were just above a whisper as you bent to sit next to him on the cold wood. “Or if I’m intruding.”

He hummed around his cigarette before ashing it into a Coke can. “You didn’t, and you aren’t.” He looked you over for the first time then and frowned deeply at you. “You are going to freeze to death though. Where the hell is your coat?”

“I’m fine, I’ve got the blanket, see?” you assured, though you had to admit that the cold cut right through the thick material. 

He ran his eyes up and down it, rolling them affectionately at you. “Okay,” he replied, though it sounded nothing like he believed you. After a few silent moments, he spoke again. 

“How are you liking it here?”

A genuine smile spread out over your lips. “Michigan is lovely, if that’s what you mean. Cold to the point where I’m not sure why anyone would want to live here, but. Lovely, all the same.” 

He smiled back at you, oddly warm in nature for him. “And what about the family? Do you find all of us lovely too?” 

“Absolutely,” you agreed, pulling your knees up to your chest like you were in a cocoon. Another few long moments ticked by as you watched the snow fall. The night was so still that you swore you could hear the flakes as they settled on whatever surface they happened to land on. 

“Can I ask you something?” You flicked your eyes over at him to assess his expression. You knew your brows were threaded close together in worry, which he seemed to take into account before he answered.

He nodded as he took another drag. “Sure,” he replied, smoke and steam glowing with the light of the cherry on the end of his cigarette as he exhaled. 

You were silently trying to figure out how to word it for long enough that he looked over at you expectantly. 

“Do you think Josh would have come home for Christmas if I...weren’t around?” 

He met your eyes and huffed a humorless laugh. “I think that he would have spent a week or two anxiously deciding whether he could handle it and then, ultimately, he would feel too guilty to say no. And from there, I think it would have been a repeat of last year - he would have come home here, found it exhausting, and then screened everyone's’ calls for a couple of months again.”

You weren’t sure what to say, so you just stared at his face, your teeth pressed into your bottom lip until you could feel they’d left an indent as you ran your tongue over it. 

“But it’s weird, right?” he continued, biting back a smirk that made you a little uneasy about what he was going to say next. “He seems to be almost blissfully happy this year.”

You held your breath for a moment as you tried to organize your emotions, and then exhaled in a rush once it became uncomfortable. “Look, I. He’s obviously a lot of things to me. A best friend, a room mate, a...romantic partner?”

Jake shot you a disbelieving but highly amused look at your wording.

“But I’m worried that he’s tying himself to me too tightly.” With your eyes, you tried to portray the emotions that that thought evoked in you - how compressed it made you feel. 

He seemed to chew it over as he stubbed out his cigarette on the damp wood and then - near instantly - materialized another from behind his ear like a magic trick.  

“I love seeing him happy, but I’m scared that I’m the only thing making him happy,” you finished, voice admittedly a little shaky. You didn’t ask first - though you should have - but you slid closer to him until your shoulders were touching, and despite not knowing him all that well yet, it still managed to make you feel more grounded. “It’s not that I expect this to end - whatever we have - but what if it does?”

Jake’s eyes flitted around your features like he was trying to map your face as you anxiously waited for him to tell you everything would be alright. 

“You know,” he started, voice low. “When we moved away for school, he was the one that decided we wouldn’t room together. I mean, I didn’t blame him or anything, but I always just assumed we would. He used to be so outgoing. I mean, he never missed a party. People would trip over themselves to be next to him. He used to take his ex out any time he could - it didn’t really matter where, because he’s always had a way of making even the most monotonous task seem fun.”

You didn’t try to suppress a smile as it found your lips. 

“So, his ex broke it off with him. I don’t know what happened really - only what I’ve been able to pry out of him - but it fucked him up pretty good. And then as he was just starting to get over it, his roommate had some kind of mental break and just moved out one weekend while Josh was gone. It’s not like they were best friends or anything, but they got along.”

“Fuck,” you whispered, resting your head on Jake’s shoulder and not caring whether or not it was polite to do so anymore. 

“Yeah,” he agreed, simply. The tone of his voice was something very somber - the kind you’d use if you were giving a eulogy. “I tried to help. I offered to move in with him. I showed up at his apartment all the time, but he got pretty effective at dodging me. Not just me, actually, but everyone. Worried the fuck out of our mom.” 

“What then?” You were not-so-secretly hoping that Jake was going to find a way to make you feel better, and the pitch of your voice reflected it. The core of your body felt like it was stuffed full of stones, weighted and heavy. “What happened?”

Jake hummed. “Well, he started to level out a bit. After a good couple months he started at least answering the door when I came to see him. Sometimes he’d text me back after a day or two. That went on like that for a while.”

He titled his head to look over at you then for the first time in a while. You felt oddly vulnerable after hearing all of that, but you tried not to duck away from his eyes. 

“But then, suddenly, you were there. He didn’t tell me a thing about you, or even that he was getting a new roommate until well after you were already moved in.”

You huffed a laugh. “If it makes you feel better, he didn’t tell me anything about you either really. Imagine my surprise when I open the door and you were a twin. Uncanny valley territory.” 

“I think he learned how to compartmentalize the people in his life. Seems like it’s easier to manage relationships that way when you’re an extremely guarded person like he had suddenly become.”

He took a pause to take a long drag, simultaneously running a hand through his silky hair. 

“But to answer your question - I don’t think you’re the only thing making him happy,” he continued, meeting your eyes with an intensity that you understood to your core. “I think you’re just reminding him that there are things to be happy about.” 

You weren’t sure what you were expecting him to say, but you were suddenly choking back tears and a tight, hot feeling in your throat.  

“You’ve just got to give him time to remember what it’s like.”

When you opened your mouth to reply, you realized you’d been holding your breath for a moment too long, causing you to suck in a shaky breath. “I intend to give him all the time he needs,” you promised. 

Jake offered you back a smile as he moved to stand, stretching out his muscles and then extending a hand for you to take. He helped you clamber up off the floor before tucking his lighter back into the pocket of his fleece sleep-pants. 

“Good to hear.” 

[sunflowersteves]

Hi hi! What about smut prompts #2 17 and 19 with Din Djarin? I'm also having a little Geralt of Rivia kinda feeling eh I don't know how to decide I'll let it up to you or else my brain will explode 😭

author’s note || I decided to do Geralt because my next two requests are smutty din. also i have no idea where my mind went but uh, I hope you enjoy!

smut prompts || “stop before someone sees!” “do you want to come on my fingers or mouth?” “how funny do you think teasing is now?”

warnings || some fluff at the end, jealousy, some manipulation, afab!fic, smut!!! 18+ only, teasing, rough sex, edging, punishment, semi-public sex, minors do not interact

masterlist

Teasing Geralt in the middle of a pub was one of your most favorite hobbies. You loved the way your heart pounded against your chest and the way his deep voice sent chills down your spine. 

He, on the other hand, hated all of the teasings. You would sit alone drinking your ale and listening to some of Jaskier’s songs when a handsome stranger would ask why you were alone. You never were alone, though—Geralt was always out in the stables feeding Roach, always nearby. 

You sipped on your ale, letting the salty taste run through your tastebuds. You sat by the fire and softly swayed yourself to the beat of the song. Suddenly, a very handsome young gentleman took a seat next to you.

You didn’t even acknowledge him at first; you couldn’t honestly care about whoever he was. But then he started to flirt with you, quite blatantly, despite the well-known fact that you were with the Witcher. That little idea swiveled into your brain, your lips curling into a large smirk. Any second Geralt could waltz in through the door to see you blatantly flirting with someone else. 

You placed an arm on top of the stranger’s shoulder and ran your fingers down his muscles. You giggled at whatever the man said, even if it wasn’t inherently funny. You honestly didn’t think he’s that charming at all. You just want to tease Geralt. So, you continue to flirt with him while a bright smile surrounded your face.

However, the smile you had on quickly vanished when the Witcher had come back from the stables, towering over the two of you. The man tried to act tough like he stood a chance against Geralt. He even tried to say that the spot was taken and for him to find someone else. 

Geralt could practically only see red, a pure deep, and rich color that surrounded him. His eyes flickered towards the stranger, and they gulped; the aura around Geralt always seemed menacing. “Touch her again, and I’ll slice you open.” 

The man’s eyes widened, and he quickly ran off, apologizing profusely on the way. Then, Geralt just stared at you as you tried to act all innocent like you did nothing wrong. He latched his arm onto yours and pulled you up, his face just inches from yours. Your eyes were wide from the fast movements, but Geralt never faltered. 

“What was that little dove, huh? Were you trying to make me jealous? Well, it worked.” Before you could even respond, you were whisked away from the pub. His large boots trudged against the floor as he made his way towards one of the bedrooms. 

“Geralt! I don’t see why this is a big deal-”

You were interrupted by Geralt slamming you against a wall, not enough to inflict any pain, of course. A sly smirk made its way to your face as his arms roamed your body in desperation, trying to touch every inch of your body. His lips attacked your neck in fervor, his teeth biting and nipping at your soft skin.

He was right where you wanted him, but you still wanted to play innocent. It was Geralt’s favorite game. 

“Stop before someone sees!” He chuckled as he pressed you further into the wall, the wooden planks digging into your back. He lifted you, your legs wrapping around his waist on instinct. 

“I’m going to fuck you against the wall, little flower. Would you like that, hmm?” His deep voice rumbled against your neck as he pressed more feathery kisses. He moved closer to your ear, articulating every single syllable. “I want the whole pub to hear you scream my name. I want that man you were flirting with to know who you belong to.” 

“Yes, Geralt. Please.” You could feel his lips curling into a smirk at your pleas and desperations. You were begging for his touch, your thoughts fully giving into him. You didn’t want to play any longer; you just wanted him. 

“You would like that, wouldn’t you? Oh, sweetheart, I know you do.” 

You gasped when he ripped your dress, your breasts on full display. His hand went to rub small circles on your clit, teasing and tickling your sensitive nerves. You moaned loudly as he moved his fingers to grab some of your slick, the substance spreading to your thighs. 

He groaned against your ear, your wetness fully covering his fingers. He knew then that he couldn’t wait any longer. He could smell the sweet, pungent scent of your slick. He could hear your rapid heartbeat thump against your chest. He could feel the whines that erupted from your throat. 

Without any warning, he slammed his cock into you. You let out a surprised yelp, but it quickly turned into whines and whimpers. “Fuck, Geralt. You’re so big.” He pounded into you, over and over and over. You could feel your resolve slipping; you knew you were done for. 

“You’re so tight, little flower. You were desperate, huh? You were desperate for my cock.” You continued to plead and beg his name, not really understanding your words at this point. 

“How funny do you think teasing is now, hmm?” He chuckled as your mouth hung open, unable to utter a single word from your pretty mouth. He was relentless. He was cruel. He knew how to drag your sweet release as long as possible but still hitting each and every spot you craved. 

“Too cock dumb to respond? Look at my poor baby, too desperate to be fucked.” Tears had pricked your eyes as he intentionally slipped out of you and watch as your bubbling high was taken away from you. You knew it was a punishment, a sign that you were getting what you deserved. 

“You won’t come until I say, little flower-”

“But, Geralt! I’ll be so good, I promise. I won’t ever do that again!” He lifted his hand up to caress your cheek, his thumb dragging back and forth. He pressed your forehead against his and for a split second, you thought he would give you want. 

“You should’ve thought about that before flirting with that guy, hmm? You will come when I say, or you won’t come at all, got it?” You nodded vigorously, too desperate to care how ridiculous you sound. Once he got an okay, he inserted himself again and continued at a fast, mind-blowing pace. 

Your head hung back—that all too familiar feeling rising to the surface. You could feel the shake of your thighs, your panting seemingly to be loud and louder. He barely had done anything, and you were already ready to succumb to him. Your pussy clenched around him, about to gush against his cock, but then he halted. “Not yet, sweetheart.” 

The way he said it felt wicked as if he knew just how desperate you are for him. And he would be right. He was the only one that could make you feel this way. He smirked as you whined but obeyed his wishes. He placed his hands on the side of your face as he fucked your tight pussy over and over. 

“Who fucks you like this? Who fucks you so good you can’t even remember your own name? Was it that stranger? Answer me, petal.” 

“You! Only you. Fuck, Geralt, it’s always been you.”

Three times. Three fucking times. That’s how many times he had stopped, so you couldn’t come, and you were frustrated. He made you work for each one, pulling and edging to the brink until all sensations stop at once. Hot rushing tears were spread all over your face. Your cunt was pulsating and swollen, just begging—pleading for Geralt to give you what you wanted. 

“Please, Geralt! I need to come, please! I’ll do anything, I need you, please, please, please-”

“Do you want to cum on my fingers or my mouth?”

“Mouth, please, your mouth.” You felt shameless as you kept begging, needing some type of release. He sunk down to his knees, your legs resting on his shoulders to keep you steady. Your body lurched forward when he licked a stripe up your lips, his throat letting out a hum at your taste.  

You were too sensitive as he started to circle your clit, his tongue swirling and digging into the swollen flesh. You could feel your cunt throb and your mouth hung open in anticipation. His eyes never left yours, though, while he sucked you clean. 

He teased and prodded at your clit, fingers moving to feel the slick that rested on your sensitive lips. He moaned against you, your legs slightly shook at the sensation. 

“Please, Geralt, I-I can’t-”

“Sh, I’ve got you. You’ve been so good, petal.” He doesn’t wait for a response as he laps your glistening pussy. You’re crying and whimpering, making a full mess all over his lips. You could feel his hot, slick tongue press in and out. 

“Geralt, Geralt, Geralt,” You say his name as if it’s the only thing left in your mind, just him and his glorious tongue. It only eggs him on as his nose digs into your clit and applies just enough pressure to make your eyes roll in the back of your head. 

“You’re mine. You’re fucking mine.”

Your body feels rigid as something explodes, pure fire raging against your stomach. Your screams are loud and booming as they echos across the hallway. You scream his name, profanities, and anything that your mind could think of. You knew the whole pub heard, hell the whole village probably heard. He just leans there and continues to lap you up until there’s no drop left. 

He catches you immediately as your body falls limp, your eyes hooded with exhaustion. “You did good, little flower. I’m so proud.” A little smirk ghosts his features at the silence he hears from the pub, a burst of fuzziness clouding his mind. 

He gently carries you into one of the bedrooms and places small kisses on your shoulder. He starts to clean you up and smiles, your body limp against the bed, and your snores loudly filling the room.

“Sleep well, my darling love.”

~~

witcher: @harrysthiccthighss @borkingbarnes @dreams-of-sunlight-and-starfire @writingletterstothefire

geralt: @harrysthiccthighss @borkingbarnes @dreams-of-sunlight-and-starfire @doozywoozy @writingletterstothefire

permanent: @captainchrisstan @angstysebfan @teenagereadersciencenerd @rebekahdawkins @hailmary-yramliah @stardust-galaxies @wiccanmetallicrose @keithseabrook27 @hereforthesunrise

[gryffindors-weasley]

To Love You

Ron Weasley x Fem!Reader

Summary: Ron has always been too shy to tell you how he feels, until he’s finally not.

Warnings: mentions of injury, mutual pining, fluff

There are five times Ron Weasley almost says ‘I love you’, and the one time he finally does.

The first time was at the Yule Ball. He had been thinking about it for a ridiculously long time, pestering Harry and Hermione on how to ask you, nearly pacing a hole in the already worn rug of the common room before plucking up the courage to finally do it. Of course Hermione's threats to ask you for him nudged him in the right direction, but that’s not the point. The point is, his heart nearly beat out of his chest upon seeing you in your dress, more so when you rushed down the stairs to greet him with a hug.

“Y-you look…beautiful,” he complimented with a nervous laugh, mentally kicking himself for stumbling over his words so awkwardly, hoping his feelings for you weren’t so completely obvious. Not to mention his cheeks and the tips of his ears burned with the flush of embarrassment.

“Thank you, Ron,” you smile, linking your arm with his.

An hour later, a slower song had come on and he’d managed to loosen up a bit from earlier. But the way you’d been standing so close, close enough for him to smell your shampoo, or the way your hand was in his as the two of you had swayed together had him wishing this date wasn’t platonic. The couples that had been dancing were beginning to dwindle as the night went on, but you remained in his arms. A soft smile was on your lips and every time you looked at him his heart rate would spike. He was thanking his lucky stars you couldn’t see his ears cause surely they were as red as the long locks that covered them.

The way you laughed as he twirled you, that bloody twirl McGonagall had made him do over and over, he swore he almost said those three words. But he bit it back as you rested your head on his chest, shoving it to the back of his mind because he couldn’t possibly be in love yet, right? That had to be preposterous.

The second time was the summer before 6th year. Neither of you could sleep and Ron found himself poking his head in Ginny’s room, whispering your name softly. When you lifted your head he motioned for you to follow him with a wave of his hand.

“Are you sure you even know how to drive this thing?” He laughed as he made an effort to close the door to his fathers car quietly. The car he was to never set foot in again without the presence of one of his parents.

“I can’t imagine I’d be any worse than you,” you snicker, a scoff leaving his lips but he couldn’t fight his smile.

But you were right, you were always right. Granted, he will admit it was a not so smooth take off but you ended up being a natural. You always made anything and everything look easy, as if you’d done it a million times before.

The two of you comically howled at the moon, his head stuck out the window as he did so, your laugh filling the air and melting his heart. Then he found himself staring, for heavens sake he couldn’t stop staring. The way the breeze weaves its way through your hair, the way the moonlight makes your face glow, or the way you stuck your hand out the window to feel the summer air. He swore he never saw anything more beautiful.

“What?” You laugh, pulling him out of his thoughts.

His cheeks reddened as he briefly averted his gaze with a soft laugh. You were back on the ground now, the sound of the engine no longer helping as silence filled the car. Then he looked at you again, your eyes sparkling in a way that only yours do. The words were on the very tip of his tongue, ready to spill his declaration of love to you. His heart was racing, the pounding beat seemingly in his ears as he opened his mouth to speak.

Then both your attention was pulled away as an angry Mrs. Weasley yelled her sons name.

The third time he almost told you was at Hogsmeade. He was watching you from a distance with Harry and Hermione, grumbling angrily as he glared at the sight. Your arm had been linked with Draco’s as you walked, having just come out of Honeydukes with a box of chocolates.

“Why would she come here with Malfoy?” He muttered through gritted teeth, fists clenched in his pockets. He didn’t understand how you were friends with him, and he didn’t understand why it made him quite this angry. But he was grateful he could blame color in his cheeks on the winter weather, though Hermione knew it was her poor friends temper.

“Maybe it’s because you didn’t ask her,” she suggested.

“We always go, Mione,” he grumbled.

Unbeknownst to him, it was not a date you were on. It wasn’t the first time Draco had taken you here or bought you something, you were his good friend. And quite honestly he was going above and beyond just to get under the redheads skin, he’s Draco after all. And he somehow knew about Ron’s feelings for you.

“Why don’t you just tell her you love her?” Harry asked, as if it were the most simple thing in the world.

“Shut up, Harry,” he groaned angrily, “I don’t love her.”

Except he did. He absolutely did and the way you smiled at the blonde made his stomach churn and twist in knots. He was two seconds away from storming up to you and declaring his feelings, but he thought better of it. Instead, he went off in the other direction, no longer wanting to be there.

The fourth time was after a quidditch match that landed him in the infirmary. After a bit of competition with Cormac, that may or may not have been to impress you, he took a fall that luckily wasn’t too high from the ground. It was quiet while Madame Pomfrey healed his broken leg good as new with a carefully crafted potion, but it all changed when you had showed up.

“Ronald Weasley, are you okay?” You panicked immediately, eyes bouncing over the scrape on his cheek and several others that littered his pale skin.

“I’m fine, Y/n/n,” he chuckled, earning a glare from you.

“It’s not funny, Ron. Any higher and you could be dead!” You looked like you were on the verge of tears as you stared down at him, his hand gently enveloped by yours and you closed your eyes. You took a deep breath to cool off before opening them again, his eyes on you.

“I guess my beginners luck had worn off,” he said with an airy laugh, prompting an eye roll from you that inevitably turned to a smile.

You brushed strands of red hair from his eyes before cupping his cheek with your free hand. The tips of his ears burned and his cheeks tinged pink at the action, the way your thumb was brushing back and forth along his cheek making him want to gush about how completely and utterly in love he was with you.

He scooted over and offered a smile, hoping you’d understand what he was getting at. You laid down next to him, cautious of his leg nevertheless but laying your head on his chest. You tried not to think about how hard his heart had been beating, had it been because of you?

“Y/n?”

“Hm.”

“I…” you hadn’t seen the conflicted look on his face, “I’m really glad you’re here.”

“Me too.”

The fifth time is at Bill and Fleur's wedding. You were a bit late with Ginny, Ron holding a half conversation with Harry because he just couldn’t focus. His eyes were on the tent entrance more than they were his best friend but at this point he didn’t care about being obvious. You were the missing piece, it didn’t feel as bright when you weren’t there. He couldn’t stop thinking about you really, you’d invaded his mind long ago and he couldn’t get you out of it, not that he wanted to. He wanted to hold you, he wanted to kiss you, he wanted to wake up with you every day for the rest of his life.

Somewhere between Harry’s muffled words and his own thoughts, you had walked in, the last little bit of attention he gave Harry vanishing and going to you. A soft smile pulled at the right corner of his mouth, widening to a toothy grin when your eyes landed on him. Harry had gone to join Ginny, and once Ron had stopped gawking at you he found some words to say.

“You look beautiful.” You smiled at his words, remembering the night he said them at the ball a few years prior. But he meant every word. Your hair was curled, framing your face perfectly. The color of your dress fit your skin tone so beautifully. And the way you looked at him, it was enough to knock the breath out of him, make his knees weak.

He’d waited an agonizing half hour as he watched you dance and converse with Luna because he’d been too shy to ask you to dance. His brothers certainly gave him grief for it when they found him gazing at you from across the room, to which he grumbled and glared at them, only tearing his eyes from you momentarily. Luna knew as well, not that Ron was discreet but she always was able to sense these kinds of things. So she pushed you off in the redheads direction.

Now you two were dancing, and he too was thinking of the Yule Ball as your hand was in his, head on his shoulder as you swayed about the dance floor slowly. The smell of your perfume flooded his senses, the sweet smell so distinctly you. “Y/n?”

He could’ve kicked himself for that, scrambling to think of an excuse or something else to say. But when you lifted your head to look at him, it didn’t matter. He could see every freckle that peppered across your nose and cheeks at the close proximity, your smile making his heart skip a beat. He only opened his mouth, closing it once more before resting his forehead against yours for a moment.

You knew what he was going to say, at least you hoped you did, feeling the stare of all your friends burning into the both of you. He was smiling when you turned your head, hand pressed to his chest as you pressed a kiss to his cheek. You rested your head back on his shoulder, his hand quickly finding yours again as he let his eyes fall closed.

The first time Ron Weasley says ‘I love you’, finally says it, it’s not exactly how he’d planned it to be. The two of you, amongst several other Hogwarts students had been helping to rebuild for the new year. The damage Bellatrix, as well as the entire battle, had caused left some parts nearly unrecognizable, but it had come a very long way since the beginning of summer. It wasn’t quite the Hogwarts you’ve all grown up with, but there was a newer, more improved school for young witches and wizards to call their home in years to come.

After the rebuilding had been finalized, the two of you, along with Harry, Hermione and Ginny had separated from the group to head down to the lake. It finally felt like you could breathe for the first time in months. Like the weight that had been pressing down on your shoulders was beginning to lighten some.

Harry and Ginny dipped their feet in the water, the couple enjoying their first bit of free time while they had it. Hermione had tucked herself against a tree with a book, another at her side in case she finished that one. Of course you had no doubt that she would.

You and Ron had a bit of distance between yourselves and the group, sitting amongst the slightly overgrown grass. He watched you fondly as you skipped rocks on the lake, his chin in his hand as his elbow rested against his knee. He squinted against the afternoon sun and the breeze blew his ginger hair in his eyes some, but he couldn’t tear his gaze from you even if he tried. It was something about the way the sun made you look golden, reflecting off your hair that had a couple wildflowers tucked within it. Or the way you smiled each time a rock successfully bounced off the water. There was something about you that was so entrancing, he could never quite put his finger on it. Maybe it was everything. It was definitely everything, he concluded.

“Why don’t you take a picture, Ronald? It just might last longer,” you laugh lightheartedly.

His face immediately flushes a light shade of pink as he averts his gazes momentarily. Those words were on the very tip of his tongue again. The words he could never manage to get farther than that very spot.

“I have a secret,” he manages, wringing his hands as he tries to control his pounding heart.

“Oh yeah?” You tuck your hair behind your ear as you wait for him with a smile.

“Yeah,” he laughs softly, tilting his head slightly as he looked at you. He watches as you lean back on your hands, looking up at the sky. He knows he can’t let the silence brew any longer or else he’d make a fool of himself. “I love you.”

The words were soft and a bit hesitant, his quiet admission causing you to turn your head with a furrow of your brows. “What?”

He swallowed thickly, sitting up a little straighter. “I love you.”

It’s more confident this time, a little louder. His cheeks surely burned brighter than moments ago. You smile softly and he feels himself relax at the simple gesture, and before he knows it your lips are on his. A feeling he’s so desperately longed for for an obscenely long time. He found himself missing it the moment you pulled away, though you hadn’t strayed too far as you rested your forehead on his.

“I love you, Ron Weasley,” you whisper, kissing him once more.

—

Tags: @iliveiloveiwrite @hairdye-enthusiast @snitches-at-dawn @kalimagik

[shyvioletcat]

I read your Christmas list of prompts

And I feel like these 3, 14, 38, 62 SCREAM aelin and Rowan (mainly aelin to Rowan) lol

This one is late, I know. But here it is! Another fic for my Rowaelin Holiday Celebration. Set in my teacher au, which includes Camp Shenanigans. Please enjoy. Oh and i just went with 1 out of the 4. It’s the card.

~~~~~

Aelin sighed in frustration. She was great at giving presents, fantastic even. She always knew what to get everyone once Yulemas rolled around. But this year she had lucked out, and it was really bruising her ego.

She prided herself on the annual Secret Santa at work, every year the recipient of her gift gushed about how perfect it was. But this year she had no idea what to get, and that was because she had managed to pull stick-up-his-ass Rowan Whitethorn from the moth eaten Santa hat Lysandra had held in front of her. Her best friend and most likely future cousin-in-law had been incharge of the whole thing but had refused to let Aelin swapped when she asked. That’s the name of the game she’d said and sauntered off.

So now Aelin had dragged Aedion shopping with her, just so she could get some sort of help. Aedion had agreed because he’d managed to pull out a dud himself.

“What do you get Manon Blackbeak?” Aedion mused and he browsed a table of holiday inspired knickknacks.

“Bottle the blood of her enemies,” Aelin replied. “I think she’d drink it straight.”

“She probably would,” Aedion agreed and he left the knickknack table.

Manon worked in the science faculty and was honestly one of the most terrifying people Aelin had ever met. So naturally, after a tense getting to know you period, they'd mellowed out into being respectful collegues and eventually some semblance of friends.

“We’ve got a betting pool going on how soon into the end of year party her and Dorian end up in some closet making out,” Aelin dropped casually. “Again.”

“Does Dorian know?” Aedion asked as they walked side by side to go browse elsewhere.

“Dorian is in on it,” Aelin said. “He thinks a half hour tops.”

“Manon would never let him have it that easy,” Aedion added.

“That’s what I told him,” Aelin said. “And then I also told Manon and she said he’s dreaming.”

Aedion scoffed. “Did you just rig it for yourself?”

“Of course not, I never mentioned the bet to her at all,” Aelin replied innocently.

“Why don’t I believe you?”

Aelin tried not to smile. “Fine I did, I promised to split the money with her.”

“I knew it.”

The cousins had reached a holiday display, decorations, cards, and holiday specific foods all set out.

“Hey,” Aedion said with a grin. “You could give him this.” He held up a card.

Aelin looked over and saw what the card had on it.

Will you be my ho ho ho?

“What, and end up in the middle of a sexual harassment case? No thank you.” Then Aelin added, “Why would I even get that for him anyway? I hate him.”

“Of course you do,” Aedion said like he knew all the secrets of the universe.

“What?” Aelin snapped.

Aedion gave her a grin that made her understand exactly why people tended to get infuriated with her. “Nothing.”

Aelin picked up a candy cane and pointed it at him threateningly. “Whatever you’re thinking, stop it.”

The grin stayed, Aelin wanted to throw something at him.

“Okay, let’s focus here. You’re his friend of sorts. What should I get?” Aelin said, wanting to just get out of the bustling shops by now.

“I dunno, he’s still pretty private even though it’s been six months,” Aedion said.

Aelin sighed heavily. “I’m going to have to do it. I’m going to have to do the mug and pen.” Even just saying it left a bad taste in her mouth. “I don’t know what else to do and you’re absolutely no help.”

She didn’t want to resort to the cliche teacher gift but really she had no other choice. She had to get something. Dragging her feet Aelin walked to the kitchen section to look for the least offensive mug she could find, then she would make her way to stationary and find a nice pen. Why did she have to get Rowan Whitethorn? Her reputation would be ruined.

~~~~

The last day of term rolled around and that evening they had the staff get together in a function room of a local restaurant. They were all standing around snacking, drinking, laughing, holiday songs playing in the background. Aelin held court in the corner with most of her faculty, honestly the loudest group in the room. Although Dorian was off trailing Manon like a lost puppy. The two of them were yet to disappear, Manon holding out to the appointed time. Aelin caught her eye across the room, Manon gave her a wink, Aelin tipped her glass in return.

“Ho! Ho! Ho!”

Fenrys appeared in a very cheap looking Santa suit, foregoing the beard, not wanting to hide his beautiful face apparently. He walked over to the tree and started calling out names, obnoxiously good in his role. Aelin sighed, she was still a little cut up about her more than average present. Maybe she could keep it from getting out, keep her reputation intact. It wasn't likely though, everyone loved the intrigue and gossip of who got who.

“Rowan! Seems that even if you’re a grumpy bastard you still get presents,” Fenrys’ voice boomed in the space.

Rowan made his way to the front, even managing half a good natured smile at the joke as he got his wrapped mug and pen. Aelin had to turn away; she was so annoyed. A few other names were called out then Aelin heard her own. She put her drink down and made her way to Fenrys. He was giving her a winning smile.

“I just want you to know your secret Santa had absolutely no help from anyone,” Fenrys said as he passed her a small package.

Aelin took it back to her little corner, shaking it before she started unwrapping it. What she found inside were her favourite chocolates, her all time favourite chocolates. Chocolate hazelnut truffles. These were one’s you didn't just buy from the grocery store. These were only sold at a little store in the heart of the city.

“Okay, which one of you got me this?” Aelin asked her friends.

No one came forward, adamantly denying it was them, it looked like Aelin would be joining in on the present gossip tonight. It took her a while, but curiously it had been Lorcan to give her the answer she wanted.

“It was Rowan,” he snapped as Aelin had been hounding Connall for information for quite a while. “Now, go away. I’m sick of hearing your voice.”

“Happy Yulemas,” Aelin said far too sweetly. She was too stunned to give him any more of a threat, replaying what Fenrys had said in her head. Rowan hadn’t had any help so how did he know exactly what chocolates to get her? She spotted him over by the drinks table, steeling herself she made her way over to him. Not only had he managed to get her the perfect present, but she had given him such an abysmally awful one she hoped he never found out it was her.

Aelin cleared her throat as she poured herself a drink from the punch bowl. “Thanks,” she said lamely.

“It didn’t take you long,” Rowan said.

“Lorcan gave you up,” Aelin told him and she saw Rowan roll his eyes. “I have to know, how did you find out they were my favourites.”

Rowan gave her a wry smile. “Santa told me,” he said cryptically. “And I don’t mean Fenrys.”

Aelin just looked at him, confused, gears in her head working. Before she could figure it out or ask more questions Rowan was walking away.

“Oh,” Rowan said, turning back to her. “And thanks for the mug.”

~~~~~

Tags: @fucking-winchester-trash // @literary-licorice // @galyxsy // @tangledraysofsunshine // @highqueenofelfhame // @3am-reading // @soup-that-is-too-hawt // @aelinfire-bringer // @nalgenewhore // @highladyofthesith // @http-itsrebecca // @sleep-and-books // @alifletcher2012 // @westofmoon // @sleeping-and-books // @ttakeitbacknoww // @armixers-unite // @mariamuses // @chocolate-eating-bitch-queen // @velarian-trash // @queenofxhearts // @heroesofterrasen // @highladyofstoriesandmusic // @empire-of-wildfire // @camerooonchiu // @crackedship // @lowhangingtreebranches // @over300books // @yourwhisperingshadows // @thesirenwashere // @tswaney17 // @impossiblescissorspeachpaper // @cat5313 // @judelovescardan // @flowerspringsea // @chaoticskyy // @the-regal-warrior // @fanfictrash3000 // @blueeyes425 // @starseternalnighttriumphant // @bamchickawowow // @thehuntressofmoon // @giorgia-the-trashpanda // @flora-and-fae // @thereaderandfangirl // @illyrian-bookworm // @chemicha // @meltalgel-ig // @gay-book-nerd // @that-odd-puzzle-piece // @i-love-all-books // @in-love-with-caramel-macchiato // @girl-who-reads-the-books // @hizqueen4life // @the-third-me // @queen-of-glass // @bestmelle // @cursebreaker29 // @b00kworm // @superspiritfestival // @aesthetics-11 // @maastrash // @mynewdreamwasyou // @the-last-apprentice // @charincharge // @aelinfeyreeleven945tbln // @scarznstars // @absolute-dissapointment // @thesurielships // @df3ndyr // @trinitybailey2003 // @ladywitchling // @booknerdproblems // @rowaelin-cressworth // @sevenfreckles-for-sevenloves // @rolltide7 // @scandinavianromantic // @tillyrubes10 // @starwarsslytherin // @minaidss // @paytin77 // @jesstargaryenqueen // @anntheintrovert // @starborn-faerie-queen // @loudphantomdragon // @woollycat22 // @claralady // @perseusannabeth // @fangirlprincess09 // @maddymelv // @sierrareads // @more-espresso-less-depresso-xx // @jlinez // @littleboxofthunder // @empress-ofbloodshed // @booksbqueen // @rowanwhitethornisbae // @aelin-queen-of-terrasen // @alyx801 // @amandaswallowtail // @louiseleblancdiggory // @abookishfreak

[gingwrites]

Always Have, Always Will (Namkook)

Whumptober Masterlist | BTS Masterlist

Summary: Jungkook has hanahaki and tries to hide it, but it doesn’t work when the man he loves won’t leave him alone.

or, whumptober prompt day 2: choking/gagging

Tags: mentions of death, small amounts of blood, choking/gagging, sick fic

.

Jungkook was dying, that much he knew. It had been weeks since he coughed up the first flower petal. Now, the vines were embedded in his lungs, making it hard to breathe, let alone sing and dance. He’d somehow been able to keep it hidden from the others, but he didn’t think that’d last much longer.

As it was, Jungkook had already faked being sick that morning to get out of dance practice, though faking didn’t take much work with how bad he was feeling. The others took one look at him that morning and pushed him right back toward his room. Hoseok brought him breakfast, Jimin brought him plenty of water, Yoongi brought him medicine, all while Namjoon texted their managers letting them know that Jungkook was out for the day.

Starting his day surrounded by the petals that he had coughed up during the night, Jungkook had looked like he was in some ritual or funeral scene from a movie. He had never been more thankful for having separate rooms and bathrooms. He definitely wouldn’t be able to explain himself out of that one. He was surprised that he hadn’t woken himself (or the others) up with all the coughing he must have done in the night, but he must’ve been used to it by now. Or maybe his body was finally giving up because it was so exhausted.

The others left for the studio not long after Jungkook had settled back down into bed. Taking the day to try and catch up on some much needed sleep, Jungkook spent most of the morning in bed, tossing and turning, sitting up to hack up a few petals every once in a while.

After eating some soup for lunch, Jungkook decided to move to the living room. At least if he was going to have trouble sleeping, he could do it with the TV on in the background.

Not long after Jungkook had settled on the couch, huddled under a blanket, only his head visible, the front door keypad beeped, causing Jungkook to glance at the clock. It wasn’t near late enough for anyone to be back home yet. The door opened, Namjoon quietly stepping through.

“Hyung?” Jungkook questioned. “What are you doing home so early?”

Namjoon’s head shot up, now giving up on his task of attempting to close the door quietly.

“Oh! You’re awake! I wasn’t sure if you would be sleeping or not,” Namjoon explained. “And I ended up finishing the song I was working on earlier than I had planned, and the others still had some vocal practice, so I decided to go ahead and come home early and keep you company!”

Jungkook’s heart dropped. As much as he loved to spend time with Namjoon, it wasn’t very helpful in trying to hide his hanahaki. 

“Thanks, hyung,” Jungkook hid his fears with a smile, moving over on the couch to make room for the older man.

It was two hours later that Jungkook knew he was in trouble. Namjoon had suggested that the two of them play a board game since they had plenty but rarely ever had the chance to play them. They were sitting on opposite sides of the coffee table, game spread out in front of them, while Namjoon read the question on the card he had just picked up, but he apparently thought it was too funny, so he could stop laughing.

This spelled trouble for Jungkook because he couldn’t stop staring at Namjoon laughing, thinking about how adorable he looked. He couldn’t stop noticing the dimples on Namjoon’s cheeks, or the fact that he held onto his stomach while he laughed. He couldn’t stop thinking about all these things, and Jungkook could feel the petals crawling up his throat, begging for a release.

But, Jungkook was stubborn. He wasn’t about to out himself without a fight. He didn’t want to run out of the room, pretending to be sick, because he knew Namjoon would follow him and would see all the petals once they finally came out. Jungkook could hold it in. He was going to hold it in. There was no other option. He’d hold it in, wait until they finished their game, and then excuse himself to go take a ‘nap’ and then let it all out in the privacy of his own bedroom. This could work. This was going to work.

It was not working. This much was obvious to Jungkook not even a minute later. He could feel the amount of petals steadily growing, slowly closing off his airway. It all came to a head when Namjoon finally gathered himself together and looked back over at Jungkook. His face quickly became serious, taking in Jungkook’s wide eyes.

“Hey, are you okay?” Namjoon quickly got up and came and sat next to Jungkook, placing a hand on the younger man’s arm.

Oh god, why does he have to be so caring? Jungkook thought. That just makes me love him more!

As Namjoon started rubbing his hand up and down on Jungkook’s arm, frantically searching for what was wrong, Jungkook felt his airway close. Looks like his plan to hold it all in failed.

Jungkook tried to cough and dispel the flowers, now uncaring if Namjoon saw them, but with no air in his lungs, it was impossible to cough. All he wanted to do was breathe. He didn’t want to die. He was too young to die! Jungkook knew that Namjoon was speaking to him, but he couldn’t make out any words, his own heartbeat in his ears drowning everything out.

Jungkook brought his hand up to his neck, almost trying to claw the petals out of his throat, when Namjoon seemed to understand what was happening, though he didn’t know why. The older man started to pound his hand on Jungkook’s back, terrified of how quickly Jungkook’s face was turning red.

After a few slaps, the petals dislodged themselves and came tumbling out. Jungkook started to cough, trying to catch his breath and spit out the flowers at the same time. Namjoon continued to pat his back, though not nearly as rough, wanting to make sure that Jungkook was still breathing okay.

“Jungkook?” Namjoon whispered a couple moments after Jungkook spit the last flower onto his lap. Jungkook couldn’t take his eyes off the flowers, too scared to look at Namjoon’s reaction and because there was blood on the flowers. That was new.

“Jungkook?” Namjoon tried again after receiving no answer. Jungkook was still breathing heavily, but at least it felt like his airway was clear. At least as clear as it’d been since he’d discovered he had hanahaki.

“Um,” Jungkook tried, but couldn’t find the words. He knew he needed to tell Namjoon what was going on, that Jungkook was in love with Namjoon, really had been since he’d met the older man, though he hadn’t really realized it until recently. Jungkook didn’t want to end up like those sad stories on the news, everyone asking why the person didn’t just tell the other one that they loved them. Jungkook really didn’t want to die, but he just had trouble finding the right words.

“Who is it?” Namjoon tried again.

“You,” Jungkook spoke quietly, voice breaking. He cleared his throat and tried again. “It’s you, hyung. It always has been and it always will be. I love you, Namjoon.”

Jungkook finally dared to take a peek at Namjoon’s face, hoping that he wouldn’t see disgust. What he saw instead was relief.

“Oh thank god,” Namjoon sighed heavily, pulling Jungkook closer to him. “Why didn’t you tell me sooner, you idiot! You never would’ve had to go through this if I’d have known!”

Jungkook’s brows furrowed.

“What?”

“I love you, too, Jungkookie! I have for years! I honestly thought you didn’t love me like that, so I was fine pining from a distance!” Namjoon gushed, a massive smile on his face.

“Wait,” Jungkook couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “Years? And you didn’t tell me?!”

Namjoon opened his mouth to speak again, but was cut off by Jungkook bending over, breath caught in his throat again. This time, it didn’t feel like petals. It was scratchy and Jungkook hated every second of it. He started coughing, trying to get the feeling to go away.

“Jungkook? What’s happening? I thought confessing my love was supposed to fix it!” Namjoon frantically asked, not knowing how to help Jungkook this time.

The younger man continued coughing for another moment, feeling something crawling it’s way up his throat again. Namjoon sat next to him, ready to grab his phone and call an ambulance if it didn’t stop soon.

Letting out one final hack, Jungkook looked down at his hands and let out a sob. The vine. He’d coughed up the vine, which meant it was all over now.

“Jungkook? Jungkook? What- oh,” Namjoon let out a whoosh of air, shocked at what he was seeing. The vine was out, which meant Jungkook was cured and his body recognized that the love was reciprocated. The disease had healed on its own. “You’re okay. You’re okay. It’s all going to be okay now.”

Namjoon pulled Jungkook into his lap, holding the younger man to his chest. He wasn’t going to let go anytime soon after that scare.

“I have one request,” Namjoon said after a moment of silence. Jungkook hummed in acknowledgment. “Never, and I mean never, hide something like this from me again, okay? I never want either of us to go through that again.”

Jungkook sat up with a small smile on his face.

“On one condition. Can I have a kiss?”

.

.

Soooooo, whumptober is going great since this is day 2 and its already October 4th. Don't look at me. I legit had plans to get this out yesterday, but my day was ruined by a terrible phone call with a parent, so it didn't happen. I'm attempting to get caught up, though it probs won't happen until a weekend.

Also, if you have ships requests, or ideas/requests for future days, please let me know!! I've figured out that I'm probs not all that good at whump since I don't want to be super dark and always want a happy ending, but I love all that hurt/comfort, so I'm rolling with it.

Let me know what you think! And follow me on twitter @/yoongismandu.

[rottingflovver]

Like a fly in a spider's web

(Slight)Yandere!Fyodor x reader

Prompt: he's been stalking you for a while now. Someone this innocent and pure looking ㅡ he couldn't imagine himself letting you out of his sight. The world was filled with sinners...yet you...you were an angel. He needed to find out what this weird fascination with you was. What was it that always prompted him to go back to you?

Tw: slight blood mentions, also manipulation on Fyodor's side (and stalking!)

~~

It was a day like any other. Fyodor sipped on his coffee; black and packed with sugar, just how he liked it. He observed you. Sitting alone at the two-person table, scrolling through a (phone case color) phone. Your eyes wandered from side to side, gazing at the screen with a bored expression; it astounded him how you could look so serene while doing something so normal. Something so offensively human. Your order, today, was the same as always: apple-cinnamon tea, with one tablespoon of sugar. You sipped on it absentmindedly.

He knew. Of course he did. You must have noticed him by now. There was no possible way you could've missed him; always being at the same place, at the same time, eyes always glued to you. Theoretically speaking, he could have been much more careful. Much more secreted and hidden, even in plain sight like so, given that it wasn't as obvious. And yet...here he was, and there you were. Staring at him, like he stared at you.

Perhaps he wanted to be noticed.

He wondered: would you brush it off as a coincidence? Would you confront him? Run away? Which behavior would be best suited for an angel ㅡ he was eager to find out.

You stood up.

Wait...this...wasn't right. Your cup of tea stood half-empty, the train you always took nowhere near arriving time. He knew you couldn't escape his grasp, even if you were to flee now ㅡ so why did he feel as though something valuable had just been lost? Like a pearl being snatched out of the clam it formed in, your graceful frame moved forward, towards the counter. A cheerful barista stood there, gladly taking your money. "Keep the change," you mouthed, and he guessed the words. How rude. Don't you know that tipping is considered impolite in Japan?

Ah. Fyodor hadn't noticed it, or maybe he ignored it, but his teeth bit down harder and harder on his thumb the more you moved towards him. And by the time you stood there, right in front of his slouched form, he bit right through the tender skin of it. The familiar taste of iron filled his mouth.

"Your thumb is bleeding," your voice rang out, just as pleasant as he had imagined it. A pair of concerned eyes stared at his bleeding mess of a finger, not saying anything else about it ㅡ but it was clear that you disliked the sight. So; you chose to confront him. Right here. Right now.

"Ah...so it is." His eyes glanced at it briefly. Nothing he wasn't used to. However, he never took the time to properly look at whatever wound he caused himself ㅡ chewing on his fingers was something instinctive, after all. To see it gushing and bleeding out like this; he understood why you'd be repulsed by it.

"May I sit down?"

Intriguing. The corners of his mouth turned slightly upwards, subconsciously. "I don't see why not," he said, voice as soft as cotton candy.

A sigh escaped from your lips as you sat down. He never noticed it before, he never got close enough to do so, but the color of your eyes ㅡ they were (e/c). Oddly, it felt like you were closer now. And yet you stared at him with such intensity, such harshness, it could hardly ever be described. It sent chills down his spine; not the idea of you hurting him, he knew you were powerless against him, but the idea of you hating him.

"Hey," you brought him back to reality. Tired eyes landed on your form, as your hands ran through (h/c) hair, "have you been stalking me?"

He had to laugh.

Well, it was more of a dry chuckle, but you... You were so calm! So calm, while confronting a devil. Now this was beginning to be amusing. Mouth stretched from ear to ear, his eyes were barely open. He hummed. "Who knows?" As he rested his head on his open palm, he leaned forwards; closing the gap between you. You had to fight the instinct of backing away ㅡ he’d think of you as weak if you did so. And yet, when he opened his eyes, you felt as though pure adrenaline had been pumped into your veins. Just who...was this guy? Messy hair obscured his face, but his wide grin was still visible. "Have I?"

Unsettling was the only word that you could describe him with at the moment. Everything about him: from the way he spoke in a sing-song voice to the calm way of carrying himself, everything was off. You were reluctant to even look at him. But at the same time…it was like you were drawn to him. His eyes traced your every move, a bright violet color ㅡ yet they appeared so lifeless; hollow. Like he didn't have any reason to live.

You stared at him, and he stared at you.

From a stranger's perspective it must've looked like you were both in a trance with one another, fully mesmerized. Him; slouched over the table, fondly gazing at you, and you; tensely sitting up straight, hands running through your hair as a nervous tick.

"Well?" He finally spoke, nicking his head to the right. Strands of raven hair fell in front of his eyes, but he didn't seem bothered. "Have I? Do you know the answer?" There was an obvious tone of amusement in his voice ㅡ he was enjoying this.

It felt like you were caving in on yourself. A sudden flush of embarrassment overcame you ㅡ what if he was just messing with you? Have you...accused someone innocent of doing something as horrible as stalking? You looked around. Everyone else seemed to be having pleasant conversations, a light echo of j-pop music being played from the speakers. "Well, uh…" you looked back at the man sitting opposite of you, "I'm sorry, maybe I simply imagined it…"

He almost seemed dissatisfied with that. For a split second, you could've sworn you saw him frown ㅡ but an inviting smile was back on his lips in no time. He shrugged. "Could be. Maybe it's because I'm a foreigner, so your eyes were naturally drawn to me? It just so happens that we're at the same place at the same time," he proposed, while picking up his cup of coffee. As he sipped on it happily, it occurred to you that he really was a foreigner; when he spoke, he even had quite a noticeable accent. Russian, perhaps? But you swore you had seen him multiple times it just...didn't make sense. His words shook you to the core, yet he looked at you so calmly. "Honestly…it seems like you're the stalker here," he worded the sentence like a joke, but neither of you laughed.

"I… I'm sorry," you stood up from where you sat, speaking quietly as to not cause a scene. "I'm so sorry, that sounds horrible I didn't mean to accuse you like that, I-"

He raised a hand, signaling you to sit back down. "Calm down, it's nothing to apologize for… Since you're already here; care to join me for a cup of coffee? It's awfully lonely."

…You sat back down ㅡ although, reluctantly. To fight the awkwardness floating in the air, you cleared your throat. "Sure, maybe we could start over. This was…" guilt crawled up your back as you spoke, avoiding eye contact, "a terrible first impression." It bewildered you why he would even choose to continue a conversation that started this rough. Maybe it was out of pure boredom. Maybe he was intrigued by you. Or maybe…he really was simply lonely.

Yet the smile he offered seemed genuine. "Perfect." He finished the last of his coffee, gesturing for the barista to come back. "Let's start with introductions, shall we? I'm Fyodor Mihaelovich Dostoevsky ㅡ and you?"

And like a fly caught in a spider's web, you fell right into his unforgiving hands.

~~

all this happens while his thumb is still bleeding he’s so extra

jbvhdjbvhjf I??? hope you liked it??? I’m really nervous about this ffkvcuhr I hope I did Fyofyo SOME kind of justice, at least like, a lil bit

[stop-breaking-my-heart-telltale]

Top 5 Favorite Louis Moments

So... have I ever told you guys that Louis is my favorite character in TWDG? No? I didn’t have to? You could tell by the everything that is my blog that he’s my favorite? 

Well your deduction skills are great because it’s true-- Louis is, indeed, my favorite character and after all the nonsense going on with last week’s T5F, I wanted to talk about my boy to get that salty taste outta my mouth, y’know? 

I want to talk about some of my favorite Louis moments from The Final Season, and in turn, about why I love him so much.... also this challenge of giving myself only 5 moments was just cruel and I struggled because I love nearly every Louis moment. I had to narrow it down to the favorite moments where I believe his development as a character were at its greatest, because that’s something I love about him-- his growth through the season. 

Wanna give a quick shoutout @pi-creates​ for letting me use some screenshots for this post! I’m also doing a bit of a collab with Pi and a few others for this T5F. I thought it would be fun if they did some lists for other characters! I’ll update this post with links to their Top 5′s as they come out. :D

Pi’s Top 5 Aasim Moments @kaylee-wolf’s Top 5 James Moments @taurusicorn2400′s Top 5 Favorite Things About Violet  @akemi-rose578′s Top 5 Favorite Ruby Moments

5. Appealing to Louis

I won’t spend too much time on this one because I talked about this entire scene in great detail in my Marlon character study, but I do truly love everything about it. 

When you appeal to Louis, he’s pretty insistent about staying out of it... even though you can tell this whole situation is hurting him. With Marlon still having a grip on him, Louis feels like he has to side with Marlon because he’s his best friend, he’s always had his back, he’s gotta trust him... Marlon wouldn’t kill Brody like that, it just doesn’t make sense, right? 

Add that on top of the fact that Louis is already established as “Marlon’s lap dog,” as Aasim puts it, and Marlon himself even implies that Louis is irresponsible and doesn’t ever step up.

So to have Louis instinctively puts his hands up like “Oh no, no, noooo I am not involved! Sorry, I like ya Clem but yeah, you’re on your own.... sorry,” makes sense with how he’s established, and you as Clementine have to sway him to your side by giving him some much needed courage and a chance to break from Marlon’s control to do the right thing, which is executed super well. 

My personal favorite choice is to ask Louis if he’s really going to just let Marlon shoot me just so that he doesn’t want to get involved. You can see from his body language and facial expressions that Clementine’s words struck a nerve... he doesn’t want that to happen, that he doesn’t want Marlon to murder Clementine like this, and that he knows this is all wrong. 

Also, Clementine’s “I thought you were more than that” is just.... so good. When you consider his entire arc... as far as we know, this is the first time someone has said something like that to Louis and it shows.

So he tries to talk to Marlon the first time, and Marlon intimidates and manipulates him to where you believe he’s not going to help you... and I love it. I love the way this is shot where Louis, with his hands up, slips right in front of Clementine and talks Marlon down. He sees that Marlon has a damn gun pointed at him, but he puts himself in danger to protect Clementine [and Marlon, in a way]... someone he doesn’t know that well, and he even walks towards Marlon while the gun is still pointed at him to protect her and those around him. 

There’s also the other bits where Louis tries to be reassuring to Marlon, that they’re gonna help him out, that they’re all they got, that Marlon wasn’t always pathetic.... which that last one prompts the “Yeah I was, you’re just the only one who didn’t see it,” and that’s... a whole thing. 

This is the first glimpse of growth we see with Louis and I love it. 

4. The talk in the dorms

Okay... this scene. 

I love this scene... obviously. One of my favorite’s from Ep2. After AJ is patched up and recovering in the dorms, Louis comes by to bring AJ some new clothes since his got torn up from Abel’s magic shotgun. 

At this point, we already know that Louis is dealing with a lot of shit-- his best friend of 8+ years was murdered right in front of him, he’s traumatized, mourning, and hurting buuuuuut most of the Ericson crew don’t seem to care that he’s going through this. Violet keeps invalidating this pain and calling him a shithead while talking shit about Marlon right in front of him without any care. Mitch acts like Louis should be more aggressive because he was Marlon’s best friend, which results in Louis feeling even shittier. 

He doesn’t know what to do about Clementine and AJ, all he knows is that them being there makes everything feel worse and he’s scared... AND on top of that, he just learned what Marlon was really like, Brody did indeed die because Marlon hit her, the twins might be alive because Marlon traded them away, AND there are asshole raiders coming to kidnap and/or murder them.

AND because he took part in the vote that got Clementine and AJ kicked out and insisted they follow through, AJ ended up getting shot by Abel’s magic shotgun and could’ve died... and Louis feels responsible for that, but he’s conflicted because this kid literally murdered his best friend that’s why they were kicked out in the first place. 

Also, presumably, he’s dealing with all this by himself. 

Honestly, I’m surprised he’s still functioning because that’s a lot. 

Despite all that, he still sticks with Ruby in helping patch AJ up, and is thoughtful enough to bring him new clothes so he’s more comfortable. It says a lot about him, y’know? He’s still hurting, he’s still angry, but he doesn’t hate Clementine and AJ for what happened. He never did, he just didn’t know what to do. He’s still processing what happened and sorting out his feelings. 

Oh and then the talk with Clementine... okay, I love the talk. 

It’s quiet, sincere, and emotional. Clementine kinda begins to pry about whether or not he’s okay with them staying after AJ gets better and the raiders are taken care of, and he avoids giving her a straight answer until she pushes, to which he answers with an honest, “I don’t know, Clementine.” 

Then AJ wakes up, and I love the way Louis responds to AJ asking if they’re friends again. He doesn’t lie to make AJ feel better, but he’s not a jerk about it. 

And finally, we get the final dialogue prompt with him. I usually tell him I really missed him, to which he responds with, “Missed you, too. Goodnight.” and I just... it’s so good. 

Honestly, Louis could’ve turned into a real bitch and not bothered, he could’ve remained angry and took every opportunity to remind Clem and AJ of how terrible they are... I can think of plenty characters that would’ve done that in his situation, but that’s not Louis. He’s not that kind of person... which is interesting when you consider his backstory and what landed him at Ericson in the first place. He’s seen what that kind of resentment, no matter how great, can lead to. 

Overall, one of the best moments in his character development. 

3. Louis opening up to Clementine in the music room

Oh, where to begin?

First off, not gonna gush too much about the clouis because this is a list focusing on Louis, not necessarily his romance with Clementine... I’ll only bring it up when it pertains to his character development, y’know?  Second, not gonna get into the poor lead up to this scene where the writers dropped the ball with the ‘go with Violet to protect the school vs screw around with Louis and probably die’ thing. That’s a topic for another day. Just talking about the scene itself. 

Because this moment is so damn good. Honestly, these last three entries I could probably do entire posts picking them apart and analyzing everything but we don’t wanna be here for hours so I’ll try to condense it the best I can. 

So Louis invites Clementine to the music room because he needs up with a project. Clementine enters to find him playing a song that he wrote, and they have a fun conversation. Right off the bat, we get Clementine mentioning that they haven’t heard any music for a while [implying that Louis hasn’t been playing] and Louis responds with, “Some say you’re not about to hear it now.” which we all know is him trying to make light of people telling him he doesn’t have any music talent and like.... his face. The way it falls as the music goes from cheery to sad. The way Clementine looks at him. 

I talk about Louis having a wall around him a lot. Well, that’s because he does. It’s the irony thing where the happy, loud, funny character is actually putting that on as a façade because they’re hiding behind a wall too scared to let anyone in because it’s either bit them in the ass before or no one has bothered to ever take them seriously anyway or a number of other reasons. 

Louis seems to let that wall down for little bits at a time without realizing it, then when he does, it shoots right back up. A great example of this is in ep1 when he and Clementine talk in the woods. The shift is obvious, and here he’s still doing it. 

He turns around and asks Clementine how they feel about their imminent deaths in a jokey tone. My favorite thing to do is here is remain silent. When you do that, he becomes serious again and in a soft voice, he tells Clementine that he’s here for her. 

I find this whole sections of the scene, including the tuning the piano part, so interesting because it’s him testing the waters with Clementine, if you will. He’s inching the wall down until they’re both sitting comfortably at the piano when he begins to play his song for her. They mark the piano, and I think that seals it for him that they’re here together, that Clementine isn’t like the others who have never taken him seriously or never bother to look below the surface. 

So, he takes a chance and fully brings the wall down, opening himself up to her as he thanks her for being there with him, even after everything. 

Like... Louis is just so aware of people’s perceptions of him. This is a discussion that I’ve had with people before where Louis is very much a people person in the way that he’s not just charismatic, he’s observant, too.

Anyway, you can have Clementine confess she has romantic feelings for him, establishing them as a couple, or you can remain friends but now you’re super best friends. You know me, I go the romance route because clouis. 

I do wanna point out that Louis does have romantic feelings for Clementine no matter what you pick, but if you do wish to remain friends, he’s incredibly respectful of that. There’s no bitterness, there’s no pushing. He’s maybe a little sad for two seconds before he realizes that he has a new [and probably better] best friend and embraces it. He’s just happy to have Clementine at his side.

As for the romance, I will never get over his reaction to Clementine confessing. His face? So good. Then he becomes so giddy talking about how he was hoping Clementine felt that way and “Holy shit, it’s me!” 

Then he names the song he wrote after her and they smooch~!

uhh sorry, said I wasn’t gonna gush about clouis but can’t help it... and hey, in my defense, it does pertain to his development because this relationship influences him greatly. 

What else can I say? It’s fucking great. 

2. Louis finally shares something from his past & plays Don’t Be Afraid

Yeah I’m combining them, they go hand in hand okay. 

Listen.... like I said before, I could write an entire analysis of Louis in this scene, but I’m gonna reel it in. 

We finally get the reason Louis was sent to Ericson in the first place-- he was stupid rich with parents who gave him whatever he wanted except singing lessons, and being the spoiled child he was he didn’t take kindly to that... so he broke into his father’s credit card accounts and faked an affair in order to break up his parents marriage, and then when it was all said and done, he threw his fathers words back in his face.

Like.... I’m pretty fucking sure not a single one of us thought this was going to be the case when it came to Louis giving us his backstory.  

He finally puts it all out there and now Clementine knows what kind of person he was before he arrived at the school, what he was capable of before she met him. That wall is gone.

But this is what I was talking about before. Louis knows first hand what can happen when feelings go unchecked, when resentment is held onto, when you don’t apologize or try to repair mendable relationships, when you’re vindictive and bitter and take it out on others. He’s been there and now he’s here, and he holds a lot of that with him. You can see he does in the way he talks about himself and struggles with confidence in his abilities. 

I also love the line he says when you remain silent about how he doesn’t even know the person he’s talking about, how it’s like the only thing they share is the same name. He then goes on to say that Clementine should know who she’s riding into battle, which I’ve always seen as his way of telling her she should know who he really is, good and bad, before she puts anymore effort, faith, love, etc. into him and their relationship. 

Then there’s the song. 

Tenn asks Louis if he can play Don’t Be Afraid for them, a song that he composed with Minerva back before she was taken by the delta, and it’s my favorite version. 

Just the way he looks at Clementine before he starts and she gives him a small reassurance before he starts, and he fucking dedicates the song to Minnie... who is going to try to kill him later and that’s a whole thing, but it’s still a sweet sentiment. 

Then the song plays and it’s that calm before the storm moment, y’know? Like, everyone is sitting there listening to him play this beautiful song while realizing that shit’s going down soon and this might be the last happy moment they get.... and then as he’s playing, Louis looks over at AJ’s drawing of Violet, Aasim, and Omar and just.... his expression. 

Also, he looks up at the ceiling as he’s playing and given how glossy his eyes look at the end of the song.... you know he was trying to hold it together. And that last look he and Clementine share? ugh.... it hurts my heart. 

I adore this scene.... We finally got something about Louis’ past, which is something he hardly shares up to this point. Anything shared is minor, like how he used to play baseball or he hates cantaloupe.... but nothing major, y’know? So good. 

1. The walk back to Ericson

This is it. 

When it comes to Louis’ development as a character, this is it. Let me tell you about this moment because oh my god.

To start things off, Louis gets back to the school with everyone and then alone decides he’s gonna go look for Clementine, AJ, and Tenn. Which I don’t know if that’s something he would’ve done in ep1, at least he wouldn’t’ve gone alone. This to me says that he got back, made sure everyone was taken care of based on his comment about Violet’s eyes, and then set off on his own to look for them. 

Then we get the cute clouis, Louis celebrates victory a little too early, and they begin their walk about to the school... and it starts off so quiet. He and Clementine steal glances at each other before Louis brings up Dorian. Y’know, the woman he killed. 

We learn that it’s his first human kill ever.... in the 8+ years of the apocalypse, Louis has never had to do that and it’s one of the things he was so scared off. We were supposed to get a bit about that during the party but y’know, it was cut for budget reasons.... which is lame but you can figure it out from his behavior before they snuck onto the boat anyway.

It’s a great talk between them. I usually tell him that it’ll get easier, and he acknowledges that it’s fucked up, but he believes it will get easier and he’s just glad he has it in him at all. He tells Clementine that having a home means protecting it, he shares some things about his past, and then he and Clementine talk about a dream house together. 

And this.... THIS. Okay look. Listen. I know people give Louis shit for how he behaves in ep1. You don’t have to go far before you see people writing him off as lazy, irresponsible, blah blah blah..... and like, I think people forget that character growth is a thing? That a character usually starts out flawed and over the course of a story, they change? for better or worse? 

I’m perfectly okay with Louis being portrayed as irresponsible and carefree and whatnot because from that point he grows. 

Remember what he said in ep1? He says he prefers to think of survival as a day-to-day task, he says that the future doesn’t exist and there’s only today, that the only thing anyone has is this moment. 

Louis didn’t look at the future because he didn’t care, or rather, it wasn’t a priority for him. He slacked off because he turned away from responsibility when Marlon needed him, and while I don’t disagree with his view of appreciating the now, I do believe the future should be considered. 

Now compare that to Louis in ep5. 

That whole conversation is Louis telling Clementine he wants a future with her and the rest of Ericson, and while maybe they can’t build that 914-floor purple mansion, they can still try.... they can still create a home together. I think he still believes his this moment talk, but has a better grasp of what he really wants, y’know? 

His whole journey when you stick with him is just.... so good. It’s not perfect, I mean y’all know that I have my issues with how some things were done, but Louis’ development as a character is one of the greatest accomplishments in TFS. 

Also, Louis lost the 4th grade spelling bee because of “recommend” and he had a pet turtle named Geoff. My patience has been rewarded and I know more about his backstory. 

I don’t even know what else to say? It’s #1 for a reason? Because it’s a great showcase for how far he’s come? and I love him so much? Seriously this scene is so good? 

---

Honorable Mentions

-Louis’ introduction in the music room. It’s a classic fave.  -The walker piñata moment where Louis lets his guard down around Clementine to tell her his view point on survival. -The archery moment where Louis apologizes to Clementine and opens up a bit about Marlon. -The card games. Both of them. He’s great. -Everything in the dorms in ep3. -y’know what? Just everything that isn’t the cell scene okay? 90% of Louis scenes get honorable mentions. 

---

So there we go. There’s all my gushing about Louis. Could do it for much longer, but I don’t think we wanna be here for hours. So, what are your thoughts? Do you agree or disagree with any of my choices? Or have anything to add? I’m always down to chat about muh boy. 

Have any suggestions for future T5F’s? Feel free to send ‘em in! :D

—

Next week’s T5F Top 5 Reasons Doug Was Pretty Great

[anthonyjlockwood]

i’ll tell you now, i could lay like this forever

@julies-butterflies requested the prompt "I never imagined that someone's heartbeat could sound so amazing." for Peterpatterlina!! 

Hope you like it Lydia!! 

here it is on ao3!

(oh, and I’m still taking prompts from the lists here and here in my ask box!)

The thin quilt covering Julie’s bed wasn’t doing much to ward off the harsh winter chill. 

What was proving more effective, though, was Julie’s position in bed, sandwiched between Luke and Reggie. 

Ever since she almost lost her phantoms at Caleb Covington’s hand, Julie needed to know where they were at all times. She felt safest about letting Alex wander off as he pleased; he was usually with Willie anyway, and he was generally more responsible than Luke and Reggie were. Julie didn’t get the same pang in her chest when Alex was not there-- that’s not to say she didn’t love him; she did. But… Alex was like the older brother she never knew she’d needed. He was her best friend. 

Julie’s need to have Luke and Reggie in particular close by at all times-- or at least, her need to know where they were, that they were safe-- was a coping mechanism, Dr. Turner had said. Losing people can make you worry more about the whereabouts of those you do have. 

(Not that Julie ever said one word to Dr. Turner about the three ghosts who took up residence in her garage specifically. Nope, the Sunset Curve Phantoms were still holograms from Sweden, and that’s what they would stay… at least until Julie could think of a better story. “Ghosts from 1995,” though it was the truth, was… not better.) 

And one of the ghosts from 1995 in particular was testing Julie’s patience tonight. She whipped her head around to glare at the ghost in question.

“Reggie, please stop singing ‘Home Is Where My Horse Is’ under your breath. I’m trying to sleep!”

“Sorry,” Reggie whispered sheepishly. Julie heard the covers rustle, and suddenly Reggie was facing her, his eyes glinting in the dim moonlight. She could see they were crinkled, courtesy of an unconcealed grin.

“It’s alright. I know it’s hard for you to fall asleep sometimes. But I’m tired, okay?” Julie sighed, and turned back on her side, away from him.

That wasn’t any better, though, because now she was face to face with Luke Patterson, who had avoided sleep at all costs while he was alive, and was not inclined to let Julie get any either. 

He was like a puppy, who needed constant stimulation and attention, and the sight of Julie awake despite the darkness outside the window caused him to perk up in interest.

“Can’t sleep, huh?” Luke hoisted himself up on his elbow and peered down at Julie, fixing her with an “I’m about to cause trouble” grin.

The sight of it made her feel ten times more exhausted. Luke required a level of alertness and energy that she just didn’t have in her at the moment. 

“No,” Julie snapped, “and I would very much like to! So whatever it is you’re thinking right now, don’t think it. At least not until morning!” 

She saw Luke’s grin transform into a pout. “You don’t even know what I was thinking.” 

“I know it probably has nothing to do with sleep,” Julie yawned. “You guys might not need it, but I do. Now, goodnight.” 

It was true; Reggie and Luke didn’t need sleep, but they could still do it. And honestly, Julie loved it when they did— it meant they were quiet. 

(And sometimes, they would all tangle up in Julie’s bed together, and those moments were the best. Because Luke was like a space heater personified, and Reggie was like a teddy bear. A soft, comforting presence that Julie didn’t know she needed, until he was in the bed next to her). 

Nighttime was quiet, and it allowed them to just… bask in the presence of each other. With no noise, no music, nobody interrupting them… 

It was during moments like these where Julie really let herself feel at home with her phantoms. 

Almost subconsciously, she snuggled into Reggie, and he pulled her in gratefully. His arms were warm and Julie felt herself relax, inhaling his scent. 

She could feel his warm breath on her hair as he, in return, buried his face in her curls. 

Snuggling with Reggie was a lot different— and a lot more preferable, honestly— than snuggling with anybody else on Earth. 

Ever since after the Orpheum, when the boys became permanently solid to Julie, and they could reach for each other and hug and brush against each other accidentally, and swat each other away playfully when they were in each others’ space… Julie had been exploring all the new ways she could interact with them now, and cuddling had to be her favorite. 

Reggie just had this way about him, of knowing when people needed a hug. And he had a propensity for comforting people that was just unrivaled. Julie felt warm and safe in his arms, and even though they weren’t as rock-solid as Luke’s, they felt like home. Like nobody could hurt her. 

Alone with Luke and Reggie now, in the quiet, Julie lets herself drift off. 

...For about thirty seconds, until a strong, muscular arm yanks her back into full consciousness-- out of Reggie’s embrace, and into his instead. 

“Luke,” she complains, her voice now muffled against Luke’s shirt. “I was just about to fall asleep.” 

“You were too far away,” he grumbles. 

“Stop hogging the Julie!” Reggie’s arms snake around Julie from behind and she feels herself being pulled away from Luke’s warm embrace, back into Reggie’s. 

“Stop passing the Julie back and forth like a tennis ball and let her sleep!”

“Sorry, Julie,” Luke’s and Reggie’s voices chorused in the darkness. 

They finally settled down again, rearranging themselves into a differently-shaped puzzle.

For a while, Julie let the sound of their breaths lull her back away from alertness and towards the peaceful abyss of sleep.

She was just sinking down under the surface of consciousness when Reggie’s voice broke through the fog of sleep once again. “Julie, your chest is so comfy.” 

“Oh my god,” she groaned quietly. “Reggie!”

“Sorry, sorry!” He grabbed hold of the blankets around Julie and tucks them closer against her body, like a burrito he’d taken out of the fridge and then realized wasn’t his, after all. “Go back to sleep. I won’t bother you anymore, I promise!” 

Julie lets out an exasperated laugh and settles down-- yet again-- into Reggie’s side. 

“You’re right, Reg.”

The blankets rustled again; it seemed Luke was incapable of staying in one position for too long. Julie felt his head press against her back and heard him sigh in pleasure. “Julie is comfy. And her heartbeat is like, my favorite sound in the world,” Luke gushed. “It’s better than any song ever.”

“Luke, please go to sleep.” 

“I never imagined anyone’s heartbeat could sound so amazing,” he whispered. “God, everything about Julie’s just so incredible, isn’t it, Reg?” 

“Totally,” Reggie yawned. 

Julie was trying to be mad at them for keeping her awake-- flustering her was not an option. She took a deep, shaky breath against the flutter in her chest. “Can we please try to get some sleep now?” 

“You got it, boss,” she could hear the smile in Luke’s voice. She wondered if he would actually take her suggestion to heart… but then she found she was too tired to care. 

Luke and Reggie inched closer to her on either side, and to her relief, nobody said anything more. In the arms of both the boys she loved, Julie finally let herself drift off. 

[ninjakasuga]

Sonsal Celebration Day 6

Day Six of the celebration of best furry couple by @boundforfreedomsonsal continues! Admittedly I’ve been watching eagerly for this day as this was honestly the first of the prompts I worked on. Having finished reading @archiesoniconline ‘s fan-project version of issue 249 and 250 (in which Sally was deroboticized huzzah) and the signs of Sally dealing with the obvious aftermath; I was inspired. Add in inspiration from a few pages of Glitcher’s Sonic Retold series, and well I had material to work with. I recommend if you want to see a faithful fan continuation of the pre-reboot Archie-Sonic era give ASO, a shot or even pay Glitcher’s DA page ( https://www.deviantart.com/glitcher ) a visit. Since the old comics are never going to see an official revisit we fans are the only ones who will see our beloved characters flourish so give these guys and other fan projects a looksie! Also the lovely, AMAZING art work provided for this prompt was by the amazing @foxinadress​  seriously this amazing artist deserves praise. I recommend not only giving his Tumblr a visit but check their various art platforms and Patreon.

One last Author note; there is some pushing of the PG-13 as per usual, but at this point you guys expect that from me. XD Also while this takes place in my little Sonic fic-verse, it’s out of chronological order, taking place between the Double Date and Surprise prompt episodes.

HURT:

Looking out at the forest beyond Sally Acorn didn’t seem to pay mind to the setting sun, nor did she react to the sounds of the far off cheers coming from the city nearby. There was a lot to celebrate, between the Deathegg being put out of commission, for Naugus being exposed and dealt with, everyone was in a party mood. As much as she didn’t care to dwell on it, the Princess knew a chunk of the celebration was for her own safe return after spending a few months as Mecha Sally.

A few horrible, painful months where she felt like she was trapped inside her own body, unable to do anything but the screaming impulses of Eggman’s whim. She’d be lying if she didn’t thoroughly enjoy seeing his shattered expression as he fled from the Deathegg as the vile creation was torn apart by explosions before crashing into one of his bases it was poised above. It almost made up for the hell she endured.

Yet that joy felt somehow hollow still and it bugged her incessantly. She was back home, her friends and family safe, the Kingdom was safe, and yet… Sally couldn’t fully feel right. She did not feel like she deserved to be there, enjoying the celebration with everyone else. The squirrel-munk hated how she felt, not when her friends, and especially a certain Hedgehog, fought like hell to get her back. Closing her eyes Sally felt the raging memories she tried to suppress coming back. Of her time as Mecha-Sally, from being used as a tool to harm, maim, and kill her friends. Thankfully the latter never happened, but plenty of the former happened; and then there was the recollection of when she was weaponized.

A deep shudder ran through her as she curled her legs closer to her chest, her breathing reaching almost hyperventilating levels as she tried to fight down the terror and panic. By the Neo-Walkers, the Almighty, and any Deity that truly was out there, it was like watching someone dismember you and be AWAKE through it all! In lieu of blood was oil, and yet every part ripped out might as well have been an appendage or organ! While a Robian was made of wires and metal they still had a ‘core’ representing their life-force. When Eggman was taking her apart and enjoying it, her ‘core vitals’ went crazy as if even as a machine her body and true mind knew of the violation being done to her. She nearly died just because Eggman wanted to be sadistic as he prepped her to be a killing machine against all she loved.

Even a week after being deroboticized, she couldn’t shake those vague but potent recollections. Sally was able to suppress and bury most of her trauma by focusing on deposing Naugus before he took the Kingdom down with him, but now that she was left alone to her thoughts; she couldn’t drown it all out.

So lost in her own mind, her ears didn’t even twitch as a familiar ‘sonic-boom’ echoed nearby, signaling the arrival of a certain someone. The flag on the pole she sat beside on the hill of FF Headquarters, began to wave and bob from the sudden gust of wind, along with her hair and vest. Yet Sally didn’t truly seem to pay attention any until a warm hand, gently settled on her shoulder.

“Yo Sal, you okay?! You’re shaking all over!” A concerned voice uttered as the hand moved from her shoulder, and now two entire arms began to gently wrap around her, pulling her into the lap of the owner of said arms. At the feel of his warmth behind her back, Sally instinctively nestled against him, and let out a shaky breath. “I-I’m okay Sonic, jus-just a little chilly is all.”

“Bullshi-er-baloney…” Quipped back the fastest Hedgehog alive as he self-censored himself from uttering a more potent and crass choice of phrase. As he gently rested his chin atop her head, Sonic softly began to gently sway his body, rocking Sally in their embrace as he sought to help her deal with her woes. “You can’t pull a fast one over on me, I know you Sally, and this?” He gestured to her entirely. “This ain’t the wind giving you chills.” His usual jovial tone was dialed all the way to deep concern as his hands remained locked around her waist. “Talk to me Sal, please talk to me.”

Swallowing hard, Sally none-the-less tried to ease his concern with false-assurance. Not easy when those emerald orbs looked at her like that. She loved his eyes but the way he looked at her with concern and love, it almost made things feel worse because she didn’t want him to worry about her. “It’s just a little shake, and bad memories I’ll be fine-.” Interrupting her, Sonic kept his tone even, but a firmness trickled in. “Sally, don’t play this off. Now isn’t the time to pretend you’re not hurting. We sent Naugus packin’ and Egg-butt is still reeling from his toys being broken. Right now the only thing this Hedgehog cares about is the well-being of the woman in my arms. You, numero uno, the one and only Princess Sally, Acorn. The woman I love.” His hand traced along her cheek, making her lip quiver. “You’re hurting, let me help you Sal, right now we have nothing to worry about but us right now. Don’t shut me out, not this time, or ever, please. Now’s the time to let it all out because we dunno when we might get another break.”

His pleas tugged at her heart-strings, his devotion and love for her making her feel wonderful; yet awful at the same time with how her conflicted mind felt. Yet those words she didn’t know she needed to hear, eroded what resistance had been left in Sally. She crumbled like a dam that had burst after too much neglect. Turning her body in his embrace, she buried her face into his neck and sobbed, and just gushed, everything in her spilling out in tandem with the hot tears, leaking from her eyes. “I still remember being weaponized, being taken apart piece by piece, Eggman not caring if he nearly killed me in the process. I saw my own limbs and other pieces just, discarded as he smiled and hummed to music!” A deep shudder ran through her body as she clung to Sonic even more. She began to hiccup but kept talking. “Then he sent me out after everyone… I wish it was a blur, but every image is potently burned into my brain! I remember being used against everyone… I-I almost killed you, my brother, Lupe, Antoine, everyone I cared for and loved… How I managed to not kill anyone I don’t know!”

Shaking her grip on him tightened as more hot tears rolled from her eyes, matting the fur of his shoulder and neck. “When I wasn’t out in the field he made plan out methods to attack the Kingdom, or how to use my knowledge of my friends to use psychological warfare to break you all… I was even tasked to come up with methods to-to assassinate everyone!” Her voice grew hoarse as the lump in her throat got worse, along with the hiccuping. “I made fifty plans for you alone…” 

Deep, burning anger, filled Sonic as much as his desire to comfort and console his best friend and love of his life. The latter won out, and so he mentally filed away his desire to race to wherever Eggman ran off too for the time being and pound his face into jelly. A rage that surpassed the killing desire he felt when fighting the original Robotnik one last time just burned in him, to the point it scared him. Mentally berating himself, Sonic tried to refocus his mind. Sally needed him, and not off fulfilling a vendetta. With one hand, he began to rub up and down her back gently, as the other rested against the back of her head; stroking her auburn tresses as she sobbed against him. “Oh, Sally…” Sonic wanted to make the pain all go away, but knowing he couldn’t just snap a finger and do so, the Hedgehog continued to cradle Sally in his arms.

Sonic was known for his fast-talking, use of quips, and using humor to play off the more dreary elements of what was going on. Keeping upbeat and focusing ahead and ready to move on without looking back much. This was not one of those times he could be flippant on the issue. Yet he wasn’t sure what to say, could he really say anything that could make it all better, even a little? He had to try. “That wasn’t you though-.”

Sally’s tear-stained face pulled away from Sonic’s chest, sending him a glare that could kill, if she didn’t look so emotionally wrecked. “Don’t bull-crap me Sonic Hedgehog, I remember doing all those things!! Me, all me! Eggman let me keep my free will so he could use my tactical prowess and memories and-.”

Interrupting her, Sonic let a low growl leave his throat as he shook his head fiercely. “That wasn’t you Sally Acorn!! I’ve been roboticized too, and I know how that song and dance went!” Shaking his head he placed a soft kiss to her forehead as he held her close still. “Buttnik didn’t give my mind as much leeway as Eggman gave you, but I wasn’t some common bot-job either. Point is you’re still programmed to follow their rules. Just like Robuttnik made me do as he wanted despite any freedom of tactical thinking he left me.” He grit his teeth trying to suppress both his memories of that time and his growing anger. 

“The same applies to you being made to follow that- that, F**King Egg-face’s orders!” He cried giving in and cursing, using a word even he rarely uttered which caused Sally to gasp and stare at him in shock. Something Sonic took advantage of to press on with his words. “Even if you were given some mental free-reign Eggman still wanted dominance and control, meaning he was still using you like a puppet. You were still doing things you did not want to do deep down, because the Sally I know, the Sally I love would never do any of that of her true free will.”

Lip quivering Sally sniffled again, her grip on him tightening some. A fresh wave of doubt, both of her current crisis and old ones creeping into her mind. “Sonic, why? Ho-how could you still love me after all I did? All that I put you and the others through-?”

He interrupted her again with a kiss, soft, and quick, after breaking it his hands gently frame her face. “Because I can, because I do love you, and want to help you through this. Just like you did for me after I was roboticized and used against you all. Remember I wanted to die, but you not only turned me back but helped me deal with the aftermath.” Gently ‘booping’ her nose, he flashed her one of his soft smiles. “I still owe you a makeup date since, well the last one got interrupted by all the blow-out from the Nicole paranoia.”

Softly hiccuping for a moment as she tried to compose herself, Sally found herself slowly smiling if just a thin one. “Even if your girlfriend is a mess? Sonic I-I don’t know if I can trust myself, even if a part of me knows you’re right…” Laying her hands over his, she shook as another wave of doubt and sadness took her. “That was still me, what if what I went through woke up some nasty side of me, a part of me that willingly became a monster to-to ‘get the job done’?”

Firming shaking his head, Sonic leans in, his nose touching hers as his emerald eyes stare into her soft blue peepers. “Then the monster’s gonna have’ta deal with having me around to poke her or wag a finger in her direction. That said I don’t think there’s a monster, just the most amazing woman ever doubting herself. I understand some of what you’re going through Sal, and what I don’t I’m still here to help you along the way. We’ll get through this together like we always do.”

A true, warm, and wide smile crept onto Sally’s face before outright overtaking it. Leaning closer, her forehead, and his touch as she let herself be lost in his emerald gaze. “I don’t deserve you.”

Making a ‘hmm’ of deep thought, the hedgehog just flashed his trademark cocky smile back at her. “Hmm, judges say that’s hogwash. I think the Princess deserves nice things.”

Sally lifted an eyebrow, her mouth quivering as she barely withheld making a ‘snerk’ sound. “So you’re a nice thing?”

“Ten out of ten agree, when you go Sonic, you don’t go back.” He chimed in a sing-song, cheesy tone. Just happy to see her expression lighting up.

A happy laugh left Sally’s lips as she slid her arms around his neck. “I’ll give you that, I’d be lying saying otherwise.” Leaning closer, still staring into Sonic’s eyes, Sally craned her head to the side still leaning in. “I still think I don’t deserve you-.” “Sal-.” She put a finger to his lips. “However, I am very, very happy that you still love and want me even with all my flaws, and baggage.” “Like I’m not flawed-?” She interrupted him again, “Not finished, the bottom line is- oh screw it! I love you too, now kiss me!”’ Deciding words weren’t enough and anything else she said would be a mere retread of words already spoken. She removed her finger from his lips and closed the distance. Planting a big, ol’ wet, and hungry kiss against the Hedgehog’s lips. To which Sonic’s only response was to make a surprised if pleased sound and eagerly return the kiss. Each tightening their hold on the other as the sun fully began to set, and soon the sky lit up with fire-works from the celebration in the city. Almost as if to mirror the setting sun, giving way to the moon and the night; their kissing grew more passionate. Simple lip-to-lip meshing gave way to dueling tongues and their grip on each other began to pet and rub at the skin under their fur, as a heat grew between them.

Shrugging a shoulder, Sally let her vest start to fall off. Noticing this, Sonic started to grasp the article to help slide it back in place, but one of her hands grasped his wrist to stop him. “Don’t.” She pleaded, heat in her voice, her still tear-wet eyes opening to look into his. “I need you Sonic, I want to feel you all of you, kissing me, holding me, on me, in me…” Her soft words carried a mix of soft pleas from the inner turmoil she still felt; intermingled with a sensual huskiness that underlined her desire to be loved and make the pain go away.

Any argument about being out in the open, died without Sonic even uttering the thoughts. Certainly, the concern of being walked upon was there; as far from prying eyes as Freedom Fighter HQ was, they were sitting on top of the grassy hill on top of it. Anyone could wander by and get, well one hell of a show. 

Sally’s loving, needy gaze, and soft pleas killed any objections as Sonic, helped her remove the vest and their kissing resumed. It was probably in their favor that the fireworks show went on as long as it did, dulling out sounds, a pretty distraction and if both Sally and Sonic were, to be honest, ambiance to the oldest dance they were engaged in without a care in the world besides each other.

Robotnik couldn’t destroy them, and neither would Eggman, they would endure as long as they had each other.

[vedj-f-bekuesu]

The Reason Lucy Rejected Tough Emmet (and why Catchy Song has another meaning)

So, as I’m want to do, I did another run through of TLM2 for enjoyment. The fun thing about this film is that you can go back to it a hundred times and still catch something you’ve been overlooking. This time, it’s about Lucy’s takeaway from Emmet’s toughening, and how that plays into a larger narrative arc.

Uncomfortable Lucy 

So the first scene being referred to is the one where the bricks are being shipped off to the temple. Lucy and Emmet reunite and it’s all happy and nice. Then Lucy, being curious, expresses her surprise that he was able to make it. This is when Rex pops up to interject about himself and how tough Emmet has become. It’s not just a pep talk though. During one part of the conversation he enforces this talk by punching Emmet in the arm, which Emmet is pretty clearly not happy about. 

Nonetheless, with the thought of impressing Lucy and Rex’s guidance at his side, he starts posing like a proper tough guy while Rex gushes on him. The posing is very awkward and clearly forced. Lucy is...pretty taken aback by this.

Now it’s easy to assume that she was taken aback because she realised that she wanted sweet Emmet and not tough Emmet. Personally, I think in this particular scene there’s a little bit more at play, in that Lucy is catching on to the fact that this behaviour is visibly uncomfortable for Emmet to do, and seems especially so when it’s due to following the example of a guy he’s known for less than an hour. She lets it slide though because she still thinks of Systar as the baddies that need to be stopped. As I’ll get to later though, this was a mistake. 

The next scene in this chain is the one in the temple itself. After they survive the cake ordeal, there’s the kerfuffle over Lucy’s hair. Rex is actively trying to wedge Lucy and Emmet apart by planting the seeds of distrust over Lucy’s loyalty given the whole brainwashing thing she and Emmet think is going on. She just barely manages to win over Emmet to continue the mission. Rex decides to press on as well, but in a very...questionable way. 

This time, instead of just staying by his side, he gets in really, really close. Like, unwarranted levels of close. Again, Lucy is clearly taken aback because that is a huge violation of personal space. At this point, although she continued on, I think Lucy caught onto the fact Rex specifically had something amiss about him. 

This culminates in the big cake scene. Lucy has learned the big deal with the Systarians, and wants to tell Emmet when she realises he’s still in the mindset to destroy the wedding. Emmet isn’t buying though, and part of the frustration she’s having with getting through to him is a little voice in Emmet’s ear...

Even here, Lucy realises who must be on the end of that headset, but she’s got no power to do anything about him here. Thus, when she bears her heart out to him, the influence is too strong and Emmet rejects her to fulfil the mission. 

All the time, Lucy could see the damage that was being done by his new “friend”, but because it wasn’t caught and stopped fast enough it ended up costing nearly everything. Speaking of which...

When a Person is a Catchy Song

Not too long ago, I did an analysis comparing the Loud Song from Lego City Adventures to the Catchy Song. The main takeaway was that the Loud Song was bubbly and fun, while Catchy Song is more aggressive and threatening. Which works well for it’s comparison to the more cynical side of pop music and conventional brainwashing tactics, but may not be all there is to it. 

Consider the full version of “Not Evil”. There is a chorus cut for the film that has these exact lyrics; 

“I'm Queen Watevra Wa'Nabi I never trick people into trusting me By hiding my true personalities So I can use them to accomplish my evil deeds 'Cause that'd be evil and that's so not me”

As has been pointed out many times, these lyrics describing what Watevra is not are a perfect mirror to what Rex is. But I’d like to propose that Catchy Song in its entirety is a mirror to Rex, with the section before being a perfect snapshot of why. 

What Rex ultimately represents is the pressure on children (boys specifically really) to grow up, abandon childish things and conform to the expected persona of being aloof and unemphatic. This can be as manufactured and packaged as any pop music, and through the scenes where Rex forces himself closer and closer, and more and more taking over Emmet’s thoughts it shows its own brand of brainwashing, and him getting stuck inside his head. 

Really, this all begins with his very first scene with Emmet. When I was dragged to the film reluctantly, the first bit did amuse me (which caught me by surprise), but as soon as I saw this guy I instantly thought “Okay, so this guy will be like a jerkass mentor who’s reluctant to take the protagonist under his wing and will probably make some moves on the female protagonist later to Emmet’s jealousy, this is the same sort of tropey crud that put me off Lego Movie”. But things soon became weird, because his attitude to Emmet bore nothing of the trope and his connection to him snapped from “Begrudgingly accepting” to “Protecting him come hell or high water”. 

From the perspective of getting inside his head though? It makes perfect sense why he’d behave this way. Before he goes through the motions of “thinking on” Emmet coming along, he spends a good deal of time buttering him up by bigging up his accomplishments (which as I’ve mentioned way back are exaggerated to what actually happened and excluded the efforts of his friends, a form of gaslighting if you will). And once he gets Emmet to trust him, he drops the facade of being reluctant entirely and just wants to get him to the point of being tough. 

This also explains later behaviour; despite his tough facade, Rex is sill prone to moments of sheer panic (a big visual clue about his true identity way before the reveal). What’s most interesting is when this actually occurs, since it’s mostly refined to four moments;

The lattermost moment is probably the least significant because they were in actual peril then. That being said, it is interesting that he focuses his sights on Emmet, as if his main concern is making sure he makes it out of there.

The third screenshot is almost the same, but they weren’t really in peril then. If anything, Emmet hanging around to see them be organised and actually pretty chill could have put his ultimate goal in jeopardy.

The first screenshot is like the third, but with an extra layer due to the context. Emmet easily perceived this as being peril (because, you know, tentacle creatures), but Rex surely didn’t considering his pep talk to Emmet isn’t about them being dangerous, but not wanting him to fall for their cuteness. 

The second screenshot, during the actual Catchy Song sequence, is the most damning to Rex’s real intent. When Emmet sees this normal couple just standing there with drinks, Emmet doesn’t even perceive a threat. Why would you, you just burst into their house and they were surprisingly chill about it. Rex freaks out straight away though; Emmet speaking to these normal non-chasing people for two seconds would bring the brainwashing charade and make it impossible for his brand of brainwashing to get stuck there. Hence, he panics and this prompts Emmet to perceive this as peril, Rex regaining his composure shortly like every other occasion. 

At the end of the day, Rex wants to take over Emmet’s thoughts, the ultimate step in him becoming Rex entirely. He’s a crooked mirror of what the Catchy Song sings about despite it’s harmless intentions. 

He’s honestly a really creepy villain when you dig underneath the superficial layers of just being a brute, and it’s probably why I’ve come to like him so much as a villain. 

[incorrectsanders]

The Four Times Logan Almost Lost His Shit and the One Time He Did Something About it. (Mall Employee AU)

So this is the most suggestive thing I’ve written in this fandom. It’s not too raunchy, but there are heavy make outs and a little bit of petting. Enjoy! The rest of the Mall Employee AU is here. And as always, feel free to ask all the questions and send prompts~

Relationship: Pre-Relationship Analogical / Pining Analogical / Analogical

Genre: Who knows honestly

Summary: Virgil has this outfit that drives Logan crazy every time he sees him in it and he’s this close from doing something about it. He’s pretty sure Virgil is doing it on purpose. Feat. A little touch-starved Virgil

Warnings: Suggestiveness, Heavy Make Outs, Panic Attacks, Touch Starvation, Drinking, Cursing 

The first time Logan saw him in that outfit, he was pretty sure he short circuited. Patton had just bought Tayln and Virgil the Doc Martens and even though they were outside of Virgil’s typical style, he announced that they were his favorite shoes. He’d been wearing them all week and finally he stepped into their apartment wearing a pastel purple suspender skirt, fishnets, a cropped white sweater, and those docs. 

Thank god for Patton because Logan used the ten minutes his best friend spent telling Virgil how good he looked to rush off to his room and gather his composure. 

Virgil was only twenty! Sure, it was legal, but he was still seven years Logan’s junior. Logan shouldn’t be attracted to him but he just wanted to grab Virgil, pull him into his room and- 

He got up, jumping around like an idiot for a minute before he was heading back to the living room. 

Patton was still gushing over Virgil. 

“Look at you! This is the cutest thing ever!” He said, fixing Virgil’s suspenders so they were crossed in the back instead. 

“The skirt really isn’t too much? I just thought... I dunno. We’re all hanging out here and no one would judge me so I thought I’d do it here. But on the way up there was this old couple and they were giving me looks...”

“They’re just old fashioned, ViVi! I think you look great. It’s so cute- like pastel punk! And your hairs faded right now so it fits so well!” Patton chirped happily.  

“V, you look really nice. I think you look good in skirts.” Logan said, because he had to say something he couldn’t just stay quiet. 

But then Virgil was turning bright red and and leaning into Patton’s hugs and he looked so cute and shy and god Logan was going to scream. 

“Thanks, L...” He mumbled, looking down. Logan’s fingers twitched and he had to shove his hands into his pockets to keep from reaching out to Virgil. This was going to be a long night. 

*** The second time Virgil wore the outfit they were recording a video for Roman’s channel. They were on a rooftop, singing King of the Clouds and Logan was having issues. 

They kept passing each other off. Roman wanted it to start with them all perched together on a table, then after the first couple of lines of verse Virgil and Dee would lay back on the table, the others would get up and Roman would be the only one singing until he passed it off to Patton and Remy, then Remy broke away and walked over to sing with Dee for the chorus, then Dee would break away to sing with Logan and so on. 

That wasn’t the problem. The problem was that Roman wanted them to all have bored, straight faces and hang all over each other through the whole thing and Logan was sure the little rat purposefully set him up. 

He started the song with Virgil sitting on the table, Logan sitting on the bench seat under him and Virgil’s legs on either side of Logan. The younger boys arms were resting on his shoulders and his chin was resting on top of Logan’s head. 

Logan’s arm was resting against Virgil’s thigh. How did Roman want him to keep a straight face with all of this? 

Thankfully Patton, who was in the same position with Dee saw this, took mercy on him, and kept breaking into giggles so they’d have to reshoot and Logan had time to gain his composure.

Remy kept smirking over at him every time they had to cut. Roman had him in the same position as well. 

“You okay, baby?” He asked. Logan only glared in response. 

“I’m fine.” He muttered. 

The shoot took forever. When they were done, they all went down to Roman’s apartment and ordered pizza. Virgil was perched in Patton’s lap and his legs were laid across Logan’s. Logan had his hands resting on Virgil’s calves and he was sure he was going to lose it. He wondered if Virgil knew what this outfit did to him. 

And then Patton was getting up for something and Virgil was crawling into Logan’s lap instead. He kept wiggling around and it was driving Logan crazy. 

“Something wrong?” Virgil asked, turning to Logan. His voice was too innocent, and Roman was smirking at him from across the room. 

“Everything is fine, Starlight.”

Little rats. 

*** The third time he wore it, Logan almost broke. They were shopping for Christmas presents . They’d been out all day- it was the first time that Virgil had worn it in public- and Logan pretty much had acted as his protector. Anyone who tried to open their mouth and say anything about the skirt was met with glares from Logan. 

He’d made sure his arm was around Virgil’s shoulders or they were holding hands the entire time. People would be less inclined to say anything when Virgil was walking around being protected by a six one man with a nice build and muscular arms. 

When they got back to Logan’s apartment and started wrapping the presents, Virgil kept fidgeting and his hands were shaking and Logan was growing more and more concerned. 

“V? You okay?” He asked. 

“I don’t know!” Virgil screamed, throwing down the tape he was holding. Logan calmly moved the presents they were wrapping to the side, then kneeled so he was right in front of Virgil. 

“Breathe. Breathe for me, Starlight.” He murmured, knowing that particular nickname always calmed him down. It meant Logan or Patton or both were here and Virgil associated both of them with protection- almost as much as he associated Thomas with it. He led Virgil through his breathing exercises a couple of times before he reached forward, then stopped right by Virgil’s cheek.

“Can I touch you?”

Virgil desperately started nodding.

Ohhh... 

Logan got up, then picked Virgil up and settled down on the couch with him backwards in his lap. He held him close for a few minutes and when that didn’t work he snuck his hand up the back of Virgil’s sweater and started gently scratching his nails up and down his skin. 

Virgil gave a shaky sigh and his cries started turning into little sniffles as he leaned into it. 

“Were you feeling touch starved, V?” Logan finally asked. Virgil only started crying again.

“Hey, hey hey hey.” He cooed, reaching up to scratch at his scalp. Normally he could go the calm, collected route, but he knew that didn’t work with Virgil like it did with the others. Virgil was much more like Patton. “Focus on me, I’m right here. I’ve got you, don’t you worry. What’s wrong, V? If it’s not that, we’ll still figure it out. Were you just feeling touch starved, V? Was that all? I’ll make it all better, you just have to tell me.” 

Virgil hesitated, then nodded. Logan hummed in response. 

“You know you can tell me anytime. You know you can tell any of us. We’ll hold you anytime you need.” 

Virgil pulled back a little, then lifted his hands up to start signing. Nonverbal, then.

I’m sorry. You were holding me all day, I thought you were gonna get annoyed. 

“I’d never get annoyed of you.” Logan murmured, stroking Virgil’s arms gently. Virgil stared into his eyes for a good minute before Logan was scratching his back again and a shiver was running up his spine. He leaned into Logan again and started nuzzling into his neck, and Logan wanted to scream about how adorable it was. Instead, he fixed Virgil’s skirt that was riding up a bit and kissed his head. 

“You’re so beautiful.” He murmured. Virgil froze for a second, then went right back to nuzzling Logan’s neck. 

Logan had never wanted to break more than in that moment. Virgil just turned twenty two... he could lean down and capture Virgil’s lips against his and take him to bed and show him just how much Logan didn’t mind touching him. 

But it wasn’t the right time. 

Virgil just had an anxiety attack, he desperately wanted touch right now and Logan refused to take advantage of him. If he ever admitted his feelings for Virgil, it was going to be when they were both in good moods and neither of them were inhibited by drugs or alcohol or anxiety attacks.

“Want me to read to you?” He asked.

Virgil nodded into his neck.

When Patton came home that evening, the two of them were curled up on the couch. Logan had Virgil trapped between him and the couch and he was holding him from behind, one hand resting under his sweater on his tummy. There was a blanket covering their waists and Patton smiled, walking over and gently pulling the blanket up to cover a little higher. 

Logan’s eyes blinked open and Patton smiled at him. “Hi Logi-bear.” He murmured. 

“Hey...” Logan mumbled, pulling Virgil in closer when the boy made a soft sleepy noise. He looked down at him, stroking his bangs away from his face. 

“What happened?” 

“Virgil had an attack and he went non verbal. I think I overdid it while we went shopping.” He mumbled. “I... he was wearing this outfit and people kept staring so I was holding his hand the whole time.” 

Patton nodded, running his fingers through Logan’s hair. They’d all figured out how Virgil was early on. He’d never say no to touch unless he was mid anxiety attack. But if you gave him constant touch, you had to keep it consistent until he was ready to step away or he’d end up having an anxiety attack. 

They didn’t mind of course. They were all happy to give him constant touch and usually if they had to do something, another person could take over and continue the touch until Virgil was ready to let go. 

“Want me to take over?” Patton asked, smiling down at Virgil. The boy seemed like he was slipping in and out of consciousness now. Sleepy still and unwilling to wake up fully but still listening to them. “He’s so cute when he’s like this, let me have him for a bit.” He murmured. 

Virgil let out a loud whine and Logan hushed him, pressing a kiss to his head. “Maybe later, Small.” They couldn’t always pass him off. Sometimes Virgil just wanted to cling to who he was with, and right now Logan could tell he didn’t want to move. He was secure between Logan and the back of the couch, there was a warm hand on his tummy, and if he lost either of those Logan knew Virgil was going to start panicking again. 

Logan didn’t mind either. He didn’t want to lose Virgil right now. 

*** The fourth time he wore it Logan was positive it was on purpose. They were at a party, Virgil kept brushing against him and leaning over and god- he had on panties underneath. 

Virgil usually wasn’t this confident. But get alcohol in him.... 

“Lo-gan~” Virgil called, prancing over and plopping right down in Logan’s lap. “You’re so pretty. Why can’t you be my boyfriend?” He pouted. 

Logan had to take a breath, grabbing onto Virgil’s waist when he almost slipped off his lap. “We shouldn’t have this conversation right now, Virgil.” He said, even though he had only seen him have two shots with Roman and that was an hour ago. He could barely even smell the alcohol on his breath and usually it was much worse when Virgil was drunk. 

“Why not?” 

“Because you’re drunk.” No he wasn’t. 

Virgil had become quite the actor over the years. 

“Then when?” Virgil asked, giving a little shove to Logan’s shoulder. Yeah, Virgil was sober. A little tipsy at most. Drunk Virgil would have giggled and moved on to the next topic. He had a pretty short attention span. 

So, two could play at that game. Logan knew he would never have the courage to do this if he wasn’t tipsy himself, but he couldn’t help it now. He didn’t always like when Virgil wanted to play his little games. He glanced around, making sure no one was paying attention to them before he placed his hands on Virgil’s hips and leaned up to his ear. 

“When you’re not wearing the outfit that makes me want to do unspeakable things to you and you aren’t pretending to be drunk to get a rise out of me.” He purred into his ear. Yeah, he’d channeled Remy for a second there. 

“Wha-?” 

“You don’t think I know you, V? I’ve watched you grow up. I know everything about you. You’re mine. You were always meant to be mine. And I’m yours.” He hummed, digging his fingers into his hips. 

“Logan!”

“You wear pretty things like this to get my attention, don’t you, baby?” He chuckled, reaching down to thumb at the hem of his skirt. 

“What- No!” Virgil squeaked

“Yes...” Logan purred. “I can’t wait to ravish you in that... I should just do it now. I think we’ve waited long enough, don’t you?” He asked. Virgil was quiet. “Starlight~”

“Y-Yes...” He squeaked. 

“Hmmm... no. It wouldn’t be ethical. You’re drunk. You know I’d never do anything without your consent.”

He stood up and dropped the stunned Virgil on the couch, then headed to the kitchen to get another drink. 

And maybe that was a little mean, but Virgil shouldn’t start what he can’t handle.

*** The first time Virgil wore the outfit when they were together, Logan took a deep breath like always. He was at the table working, waiting for Patton and Virgil to come out so they could head off to Roman’s musical. 

“Ready.” Virgil chirped, heading over to the fridge. “I think we should take Roman to dinner tonight too. Maybe his favorite place?” He leaned over, grabbing a bottle from the bottom of the fridge and that’s when Logan remembered. 

He didn’t have to stay controlled. 

Logan calmly closed his laptop, then walked over and brushed his hand over Virgil’s lower back. He was still talking, but Logan was barely listening. “L?” Logan smirked, grabbing Virgil’s hips and quickly scooping him up on the counter. “Logan-“

“You know exactly what this outfit does to me baby, don’t you?” He asked. 

Virgil furrowed his eyebrows, reaching up to grab onto his shirt. “What?”

“Don’t play dumb.”

Virgil’s expression quickly morphed into a smirk, and he dragged his hands up to snake around Logan’s neck. “But you like it when I play dumb, sir.” 

And then Logan’s lips were on his and his hands were on his thighs, sneaking up the skirt. 

He was kissing him and biting and sucking little kisses into his neck and collarbones and Virgil kept making these tiny noises that were driving him crazy. 

“Do you have any idea how hard I’ve had to work not to say anything while you’re wearing this? While you look like this? Fuck, you’re so sexy. You make me insane.” Logan was purring, and he might have been overdoing it a bit but he knew that Virgil had trouble with his body image sometimes and this had to be helping. “You’ve never looked better than this in it though. Oh no, this is definitely the best one. Wanna know why, baby boy?”

“Why?” Virgil whined, trying desperately to pull Logan’s lips back to his neck. Logan hummed, kissing his collarbone once. “Because this time you’re truly, officially, mine.” He growled.

“We need to go!” 

Logan jumped back a second, then turned to glare at Patton. “I’m a little busy right now, Small.” 

Patton stomped over, grabbing a magazine off the table and rolling it up. He started smacking Logan with it, getting him to back off. “Bad! Can you two wait?! The musical starts in thirty minutes and if we’re late Roman is going to kill us!” He shouted. 

Virgil giggled a little, reaching out as Patton helped him down from the counter. 

“Let’s go.” 

Logan grumbled, reaching over to pull Virgil into his side and only being met with another smack of the magazine. “Hey!”

“You can have him back when we’re there, let’s go!” Patton scolded, only making Virgil’s giggles louder. 

The second that they got there, Logan wouldn’t let go of Virgil. He kept a hand on Virgil’s thigh for the entire play, and then had Virgil sit with his thighs in Logan’s lap under the table during dinner. 

When they got home, Logan rushed them straight to his bedroom and shut the door behind him by pushing Virgil against it. “Fucking finally.” He breathed, kissing down his jaw and sucking a hickey into Virgil’s neck. “You’re gonna get it. For every fucking time you’ve teased me in this outfit. You’re gonna get it.”

After that night, Logan bought Virgil many more pretty things to wear.

[gigili-jiggly]

can you list your favorite klance fics ://

(i’m not sure how to respond to your ‘ :// ‘ emoji, but i’ll take any excuse to gush about fics lol)

I have so many favorite fics, so I’ll just list some oneshots for now so that this list doesn’t become too long 

(I might post a list of more oneshots and ongoing fics if anyone is interested!)

SFW Oneshots: 

you’re lucky that’s what i like by @zenstrike

Lance rescues a hamster from certain doom.

or, Lance has Keith wrapped around his little finger and doesn’t even realize it.

This is literally the cutest and softest klance series I’ve read in a long time!! It gives me lots of feelings and feeds my need for lovestruck Keith ladfajdifjdsklf

hey, mom, i met a boy by @mothpoem

“Sweetheart,” says Lance, his hair longer, his shoulders broader, the slope of his nose uneven now where it didn’t used to be, “you don’t know the half of it.”

LISTEN. This fic owns my ass, it’s so good. It has all my favorite tropes (marriage proposals, visions of the future, love realizations, etc.) and every moment between Lance and Keith is so sweet and full of love hnnngh. 

i know what you did last summer by seventies

Saving angry, mysterious damsels in distress multiple times weren’t in the job description of being a lifeguard. It would have been slightly bearable if only everyone would stop asking Lance if he remembered what he did last summer. What really happened, anyway? AU

Pining Keith? Oblivious Lance? A little bit of Memory Loss? Heck yeah!!! This fic also made me laugh a lot, so I always reread this when I need a pick-me-up

this, our town of halloween by @tobiologist

“Yeah, well, it’s written all over both of your faces,” Lance hisses. “It’s not a big deal.”

Pidge taps her chin. “Oh, you mean Keith, the local introvert and your ex-rival, creeping out of his cave to go to a huge Halloween celebration with you and your little niece and nephew? Of course that’s not a big deal. Silly me!”

Or: Lance invites Keith to Disneyland on Halloween and glimpses an entirely new side of the boy he has a stupidly massive crush on.

Lately, I’ve been loving tropes where people go on a ‘date’, insist that it’s not a date and then finally realize it’s a date. Also, pining Lance is good shit. 

Smell as Sweet by ultimateparadox

Coffee and love, Lance thinks, are the only universal constants.

Established relationship!!! Marriage proposals!!! Becoming a family!!! Everything here is amazing!!!

Bastion by Foxcote

In a healing universe, Keith and Lance await the arrival of their daughter.

I am a sucker for klance as parents, and one scene in particular between Keith and Krolia really captured my heart

In every reality, I reach for you by @enlacinglineswrites

Stories inspired the Klance AU month prompts.

I love drabble series and this one right here has so many interesting and wonderful aus! I read it time and time again like a morning newspaper lol. 

Somewhere a Clock is Ticking by @emphasis-all-mine

This is a story about time travel, lost memories, growing up broken, ukulele lessons, peanut butter banana sandwiches, and a stuffed hippo named Patches.

This is also the story of how James Griffin saved the world, but couldn’t stop his parents from falling in love.

Literally the fic that made me warm up to James! I’ve always loved time travel stories and the characterizations in this fic is so fun and enjoyable, I hold it very close to my heart! Also, klance family aldjofiadjfdf

5 + 1 times: lance and the search for keith’s boyfriend by @starwar 

Who could it be?!

Lance tried to convince himself it wasn’t jealousy… it was just friendly concern. He had to ensure that whoever Keith was with treated him well, not that Keith needed Lance to look after him, but still, Keith deserved the world and Lance wanted to make sure whoever he was with gave that to him.

Just buddy-buddy concerns.

or alternatively; 5 + 1 times lance doesn’t realise he’s keith’s boyfriend

Oblivious Lance who doesn’t know he’s Keith’s boyfriend? Bet your ass I’m gonna read that!!

chaser of fate by freshia

Where Lance thinks everyone else is really frickin’ weird, the others spend copious amounts of time trying to get him to just remember, and Keith just wants to (re?)live his life.

(Modern Reincarnation AU where the biggest threat to face, is the looming deadlines for essays.)

One of the first klance fics I’ve read and one that I absolutely consider a classic. I love me some reincarnation au’s, and I love how this one is nice and not too angsty! 

Save the Date by @thathopelessromantic 

They had gotten married in the middle of a war, on an alien spaceship, both boasting major injuries. It was rushed and short and the team was thrust into battle almost immediately after “I do.” But afterwards, after some insistent questioning from Keith, Lance admitted to things he had let himself imagine for their wedding, were they to have had one on Earth.

Cute established and married klance celebrating their anniversary, what more can a girl want? 

Speak for the Stars by @speakswords 

All Lance has ever wanted is to prove his worth. So, maybe it’s fitting that the Black Lion picked him right when Lotor betrayed them and Shiro’s clone went rogue. Right when the team was at its lowest and closest to failing.

The desire for glory that Lance grew up with—that drove him to join the Garrison and pursue fighter class, that drove him into his one-sided rivalry with Keith, that drove him after Keith in the Sonoran Desert and into Blue’s cockpit and into space and into the war in the first place—it’s a relic of the past for him now. All he wants these days is to keep his friends alive and the Coalition afloat, and he tries his best, despite the pervasive fear that he isn’t the right person for this monumental task. Despite the growing certainty that Black picked the wrong guy.

This fear will be put to the ultimate test when the mess that ensnares the team after the clone disaster turns out to be a labyrinth more winding than any of them were prepared for. Because Lance might just be the only person equipped to lead them through this maze and into the light.

I love those tropes where peeps get stuck in their own dreams and someone has to help them snap out of it. This fic does this wonderfully with Lance and I loved Keith’s dream in here, it was so sweet

in every reality, we meet by ULTIOcean

Small one-shots about our favorite team, taken from a prompt list on tumblr for the October Writting Challenge, in which i’ll write 31 short stories, unrelated to each other, each insipred by the prompt of the day.

i adore this drabble series, each chapter is such a unique take on the prompt! 

you’ve got a hand for the taking (i’m about to take it to the moon) by seabear

“I think,” Lance says, squinting, “he’s a vampire.”

one of my comfort fics to be honest. i really really like their interactions here and the confession scene makes me very happy

where & how we’ll land by @ephemelody 

The first time Keith meets Lance is also the first time they kiss. It all goes downhill for him from there.

looking for a childhood klance fic that is so so good? this one is a classic!!!

Complete Mature/Explicit Oneshots: 

assemble by groovystars

‘there was an idea- katie and hunk know about it- called the voltron initiative. the plan was-is, god, it is- to bring together a group of remarkable people, and see if together they could become something more. to fight the battles we never could. i wasn’t sure though. just knew that katie and hunk could do it, maybe lance if he wasn’t knee-deep in cover work. but now that cap’s used to the century and keith kogane turned up from the dead, and we have a literal god on our hands… now- now i think we can do that. i think we can believe in heroes.’

aka the marvel au that’s probably already been done

As a huge Marvel fan, this is an amazing superhero au!! It has klance and shatt, as well as lotor and allura in a thor and loki dynamic! 

i like me better when i’m with you by @reader115 

His mother’s advice when the war is over? That he should ask for what he wants.

Keith joins Lance and his family on their farm, and Lance wishes for a never ending visit.

i’ve read so many post-canon fics when vld ended and this one is one of my absolute favorites. It’s because of this fic that i started associating the song with klance, haha! I love the characterizations and the overall sweetness/lovey dovey feeling the fic has and aldoifjaidfd I just love reading this over and over again

there are worse things i could do by @peachgrdn 

His chest went tight when he recalled Keith’s face. What did it have to mean? They’d never been lovers; that much was clear.

When Lance goes out to buy himself a gift for his own pleasure, it comes with a little emotional baggage. Only just as he thinks he can manage it, Keith throws himself into the mix, and Lance realizes he must come to terms with buried feelings.

honestly, i consider lyssy the queen for fluffy and feely smut lol. I love her humor in this one as well as the many feels it gives me…just aldkjodfa i love this fic a lot okay?

kiss me (like it hurts) by mottainai

Purple light streamed through his kitchen window from the neon sign across the street, getting tangled in Keith’s hair and painted on the planes of his shoulders. He held his breath, afraid to disturb the moment. Keith’s eyes were on his, too soft to be coming from a dangerous man. Lance could see himself becoming caught in the gap in his teeth, pressed into the groves of his calloused hands, inked across his ribs. It should terrify him, the kind of terror of one looking into the belly of the beast.

But it didn’t.

Or: Keith and Lance, told through arguments and resolutions

i’m such a sucker for gangster keith stuff and this fic here has one of my favorite takes on it. perfect for rereading again and again! 

lure by chaeriee 

Becoming indebted to Keith Kogane was not a part of Lance’s future plans. Falling for him, even less so.

another gangster keith fic and it has almost all of my guilty pleasures in it uwu. i love those /person A needs to pay off a debt and works for person B while unknowingly becoming the most important one to them’ storylines haha! 

 Alpha Affairs by marizousbooty

Keith and Lance take a romantic vacation to the mountains for a snowy weekend getaway.

vampire lance and werewolf keith….doing it….good stuff

Heaven in hiding by i_write_shakespeare_not_disney

Keith finds something interesting in Lance’s drawer and it leads to one of the most amazing nights of his life.

insecure lance in lingerie and keith helping him become comfortable with it? sexy. 

Beast of Burden by melancholymango

“Keith, no, we can’t go again.” Lance pleads fall on deaf ears. Keith is honed in on him now like predator to prey. He’s fighting a losing battle and they both know it. He sees it in the way Keith is raking his eyes over him, sizing him up. “We’ll be so late getting to the bar.”

“Just one more.” Keith insists, herding Lance toward the counter with a stubbornness that is innately wolf. Lance pouts, but he doesn’t have anywhere else to go but backward.

“That’s what you said last time! And the time before that!”

–

The week leading up to a supermoon, as told by the world’s best werewolf boyfriend, Lance McClain. The good, the bad, and the horny.

I read this on Halloween and I’m not even ashamed of how much I enjoyed this. This fic made me very very biased towards werewolf keith lol. 

[sweetteaanddragons]

Implausible Character Interpretations: Maglor’s Wife

You might be wondering how it’s possible to have an implausible interpretation of her since literally all we know about her is that at some point in her life, she considered it a good idea to marry Maglor. Just about anything short of her being Sauron in disguise is plausible.

Except . . .

What if the wife of the greatest musician of the Noldor was tone deaf?

I don’t even know if elves can be tone deaf, but the idea interested me, so I ran with it.

A couple of notes: I am not tone deaf, and my knowledge of the subject consists of some quick research. It’s entirely possible I got some things wrong in this fic. It’s also important to note that as I wrote this, it occurred to me that in a world literally brought into being by music where evil was introduced by discord in that music, being tone deaf might be made into a much bigger deal than it is in our culture. Consequently, some characters direct a lot of negativity towards her and her disability in this fic and make some inaccurate assumptions about just what the problem is.

Sometimes Aranel wished she’d been born with a horrible facial deformity. If she’d been born like that, everyone would have sorted out their feelings about it by the time she was old enough to care, and every time she met someone new, everything would be in the open right away. There would be no hopeful, lingering days and months where she tried to hide it before the rumors inevitably hit them.

But she looked perfectly normal. Better than normal even, the sort of looks that meant she’d overheard more than one person say, “Such a shame that such a pretty girl should . . . Well, you know.”

The worst times were when the other person didn’t know, and she got to hear the whole thing poured out all over again.

The first hint that something was wrong was when her older sister tried to teach her children’s songs. She’d copied the hand motions enthusiastically and repeated back the words. The childish stumbling over some of those words wasn’t the problem. 

Her complete failure to be anything approaching in tune was.

Not much of a problem. Not yet. She was still such a small child, after all, and even among elves, not everyone sang all that well, comparatively. 

But the older she got, the more obvious it was. Not only could she not sing well, she couldn’t hear where she was going wrong. Or, in many cases, what the big fuss was over a piece of music in the first place.

The lyrics were pretty, but the rest . . . Well, there was no accounting for taste, she supposed, but apparently that wasn’t the problem.

She was.

Her parents dragged her to healer after healer, but there was nothing anything of them could do.

“There’s nothing wrong with her ears,” the last one said. “If there was, perhaps I could do more. The problem lies either in the mind or - “ He cut himself off.

Her mother’s brow wrinkled. “Or where?”

Her father had already caught on. “Or her fëa,” he said grimly.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” her mother snapped and turned to the healer for confirmation.

The healer looked away.

If Aranel was at first confused about what her fëa had to do with anything, the other children were happy to tell her, just as their parents were happy to whisper when they thought Aranel couldn’t hear. 

Eru Iluvatar had sung three great themes, and Melkor had sewn discord by disrupting them. Music had sung the universe into existence; by music their people still shaped the world. 

But she couldn’t hear the music. When she sang, all she ever produced was an inharmonious discord.

Any elf could sing disunity, but only she seemed destined to it.

It would be one thing if she was fully deaf. There were a few elves like that, who had suffered injury across the great sea before they came and had found no healing even here. To lose a sense entirely was unfortunate, but it was no real reflection on your character.

But to be able to hear everything else - gossip and taunts and every cruel name - to be able to say anything else - anything but the greatest and holiest of sounds -

That was a deeper flaw. Her parents never said it, but she could see it in their faces. Besides, what need was there for them to say it when everyone else already had?

Everyone but her sister. Thiriel said that it wasn’t her fault. Thiriel said that it was pretty obviously not Aranel’s character that was being shown to be flawed here. Thiriel said she would box the ears of the next person who said anything so hard that they wouldn’t be hearing anything but ringing for weeks.

Thiriel said she was moving to Tirion now that she was through apprenticing to be a seamstress, and did Aranel want to come with her?

In Tirion, no one would know. In Tirion, maybe she could hide it. In Tirion -

No one had wanted to let Aranel apprentice under them. She declared herself Thiriel’s assistant and went.

Thiriel needed a few more years of experience before she could take on an official apprentice, but Aranel learned under her anyway. Sewing was purely visual. Sewing let her make something beautiful. 

Sewing was much better than singing in her firm opinion. She liked all of it - plotting out a project, making up a set of clothes, embroidering designs - but her favorite part was working on a project with her sister, no words between them needed, as they made something beautiful together, no discord in sight.

Making clothes for one of Prince Macalaure’s performances at a festival was a great honor. Thiriel was thrilled.

For her sister’s sake, Aranel tried to be.

It wasn’t that she didn’t like the prince. He was perfectly courteous and charming every time he came in, from the initial order to the final fitting.

It was just that in quiet moments he liked to hum or sing a snatch of a song to himself, and Thiriel and their new shop assistant always complimented him afterward and she . . . Well, it was probably better that she keep her mouth shut because she lied terribly, and the best she could honestly say was that it was nice, probably.

Everyone said he was the greatest singer of the Noldor and possibly the greatest elvish singer in Aman. She had no idea if that was objectively true or because he was a prince, though judging by some of the more gushing things the new assistant had said, he was at least very good.

Or maybe the gushing was just because he was handsome.

Because he was. Handsome, that is. He was definitely that.

Particularly when he smiled. 

So she kept her mouth shut about his singing, but he didn’t seem to mind. He was perfectly happy to talk about her work instead, or, when she prompted him, the more visual aspects of his performance.

She made the mistake of telling him that it sounded wonderful, and that she was sure his performance would go very well. Surely, she had thought, she couldn’t go wrong with that.

Except she did, because he then promptly invited to her and her sister to some special box that was set aside as thanks for all the work they’d done, and he smiled when he said he couldn’t wait to see what she thought after the performance.

Her smile was frozen as she agreed.

She got through it. Somehow. Mainly by giving genuine compliments on the way he’d sung the flowered vines twined around the columns on the stage through the stages of life and then by giving paraphrased compliments she’d overheard other people saying in the interlude between the performance and him managing to make his way up to the box.

Unfortunately, that started a pattern. He’d liked their work, apparently, so he started coming to them for all his performances and then, in addition to their payment, getting them seats.

It wasn’t the work that was the problem. It wasn’t even Macalaure that was the real problem. He was sweet and funny and generous and never at all concerned with their rare mistakes. And his smile . . .

Well, if his music was half as good as his smile, she could see why everyone liked it so much.

It was just after the performances. He wanted her opinion. Every time. Specifically hers, not just Thiriel’s. 

If he had just been fishing for compliments, it would have been one thing. A slightly vain thing, admittedly, but something she could bluff her way through.

But he always pressed her for her genuine opinion. Did she like this piece better or that one? Was there too much emotional whiplash between the two songs he’d put back to back? Next time he performed the new song he’d written, should he try it like this instead?

It was flattering that he cared for her opinion. She just didn’t think he wanted to hear the truth of what it all sounded like to her.

So she focused on the lyrics and the visuals when she could, relied on Thiriel’s hasty whispers when she couldn’t, and on the occasions when Thiriel wasn’t there and she was on her own, bluffed like crazy for the rest.

It might have worked indefinitely if three of his brothers hadn’t returned to the city, and he hadn’t given her a seat in the same box as those brothers at one of the performances. 

He introduced her to them before the show, giving them a very significant warning look as he did so. She wasn’t entirely sure what that was for, though given the stories she’d heard him tell about what they’d gotten up to as children, she might could guess.

“Aranel,” Curufinwe said thoughtfully. “I’ve heard that name before.”

“In a letter perhaps?” One half of the Ambarussa asked dryly.

“Or ten?” The other suggested brightly. 

Maglor glared. Aranel blinked.

Curufinwe waved this away. “Aside from there. With the slight familiarity of the face . . . I think I might have met your parents on the return journey. You aren’t Engol’s daughter by any chance, are you?”

Aranel felt the blood drain from her face. She could lie, she thought frantically, except - 

Except Macalaure already knew full well that she was. She’d introduced herself properly the first time he’d walked into the shop.

“We’re not . . . often in touch,” she said. He might not know. He might really only have noticed the resemblance. He might -

“Curufinwe,” Maglor warned.

He had the grace to look apologetic. “Family troubles are difficult. You have my sympathies. Still, it speaks well of your fondness for my brother that you keep coming to these anyway.”

“Curufinwe.”

One of the twins, curse them, asked, “What makes you say that?”

Curufinwe raised an eyebrow. “Well, I can’t imagine you see much other appeal in a musical performance,” he directed towards her. “Seeing as you can’t - “

In the split second she had left, Aranel pictured the look on Macalaure’s face when he learned how she’d deceived him. What would the greatest singer of the Noldor think when he learned she was incapable of grasping his music at all? 

She didn’t wait for Curufinwe to finish. She interrupted, so that at least she could be the one to spit out the hateful words. “Properly hear a single note due to some flaw in my fëa, yes. Excuse me.”

With all the dignity she could manage, she turned and marched out. 

As soon as she was out of the box, she broke into a dead run. 

Someone called after her.

She was not about to slow down.

It had been a night performance, so she was confident the shop would hold only her late working sister when she reached it. She slammed the door shut behind her and slid down to the ground as soon as she reached the shop. “I think I just lost us the prince’s custom.”

Thiriel was beside her side in an instant. “What happened? Did he try something?”

Try something? For a moment startled out of her misery, she could only blink up at her sister before shaking her head dismissively. “No, of course not, he - Well, I interrupted one of the other princes.”

“Given some of the stories he’s shared, I very much doubt he cares,” Thiriel said slowly.

The dreadful truth finally came out. “He knows,” she blurted out. “That I’m marred.”

Thiriel wrapped an arm tightly around her. “You are not marred,” she said firmly. “So what if you can’t sing? I can’t dance. Mother couldn’t sew. Father couldn’t tell a joke to save his life. We all have things we can’t do, and yours is no more important than any other.”

“But it’s music.”

“I don’t care,” Thiriel said. “And if Prince Macalaure is worth two thimbles, he won’t either.”

Aranel resisted the urge to remind her that by that estimation, there were very few people worth two thimbles in their lives.

The shop had barely opened the next morning when Macalaure walked in. Aranel resisted the urge to run to the backroom and instead just gripped the table she was sitting behind for support.

He looked uncertain. “About last night,” he began. 

“If it’s going to be a problem, I can assure you that Thiriel - “

“It’s not a problem,” he said immediately before smiling ruefully. “Well, it is a problem, but mainly because my entire courtship strategy revolved around impressing you with my music, and I’m still not quite sure what I have left to impress you with now that that’s out, but that speaks to my deficiencies, not yours.”

“Courtship?” she said blankly.

He saw the look on her face and groaned. “Yes,” he said. “And apparently without the music my strategy’s been even more lacking than I thought if that comes as a surprise to you. I’m sorry. I’d thought to impress you, and apparently I’ve just been proving myself an oblivious idiot instead.”

“The shows were impressive,” she protested. “You always - there’s always a visual element. I like that. And your lyrics are beautiful.”

He perked up. “Really?”

Her brain started working again. “But - courtship?” If she hadn’t already been sitting down, she would have had to then. “You can’t - I’m . . .  marred.”

His face softened. “They say that about my father too, you know. Because of - “ He looked away.

His grandmother. All of Tirion knew, and no one dared speak of it except in whispers. 

“Curufinwe would tell you he isn’t, but I say - So what if he is marred? So what if that makes us marred right along with him? So what if you are? The whole of Arda’s marred they say, so that means us right along with it. We get along as best we can anyway.” 

As best we can anyway. She liked that.

“So,” he said hesitantly. “If you’ll allow me to try again. My mother is displaying several new sculptures soon. Would you like to see them?”

“I would,” she said, smiling brightly as an almost painful relief mixing with joy. “I’d still like to come watch you perform though. I really did like them except for having to hide what I could hear.”

His answering smile was more beautiful than ever. “It would be my pleasure.”

[girls-scenarios]

I invited you to Christmas dinner as my boyfriend/girlfriend so that my family would stop pestering me about being single, but we can keep this up until New Year’s, right? au with Chungha?

6. I invited you to Christmas dinner as my boyfriend/girlfriend so that my family would stop pestering me about being single, but we can keep this up until New Year’s, right? au

Idol: Chungha

Admin Lee

A/N: This prompt was really fun to write! And I love Chungha so much :’) I’m so excited for her new song! Hope y’all enjoy!

 When the invite from your family came, asking you to come home for Christmas dinner, you couldn’t have felt more stressed. You wanted anything but another year of being badgered about your love life by your immediate - and extended - relatives. You groaned as you turned off your phone and tossed it on the chair adjacent from you in the living room of your small apartment, not able to look at that text message from your mom once more. You loved them, definitely, but it was a little tiring to go back home year after year, only to be interrogated about your relationships - or lack thereof. Chungha, your long-time roommate and one of your closest friends, popped her head out of her room.

“Everything okay in there? I just heard that ‘I’m very frustrated and/or stressed out right now’ groan.”

She knew you too well. You guess that comes with the territory of being roommates for almost 2 years.

“Yeah, it’s just - my parents are having another Christmas with literally my entire family and I know they’re gonna pester me about not having a date… Again.”

Chungha steps out of her room, coming to join you on the couch. She gives you a reassuring pat on your shoulder.

“What if, hear me out, I’m your date.” She stated, giving you a proud grin, as she was seemingly satisfied with her problem-solving skills.  “I mean, we’re already super close so it won’t be suspicious, and it works out because my parents are gonna be out of the country for Christmas this year so I don’t have any plans. You wouldn’t want me spending Christmas alone, would you?

She looks at you with probably the most convincing puppy-dog eyes you’ve ever seen, and you couldn’t say no. Plus, what friend would you be if you left her alone on Christmas? Not a very good one, for sure.

“That actually sounds like a good idea.” You reply, giving her a bright smile. “Let’s do it!”

-

There you both were, now standing at the door to your parents’ house. Honestly, you couldn’t be more anxious to face the many relatives that dwelled within, but you steeled yourself, and knocked on the door. Upon it being opened, you were greeted by your mom, who smiled brightly as she invited you and Chungha in.

“(Y/N)! I’m so glad the two of you are finally here - and Chungha! I’ve heard so many good things about you, (Y/N) just couldn’t stop gushing about you over the phone the other day,” She exclaimed, patting your ‘girlfriend’ on her shoulder and guiding her in through the doorway.

Chungha didn’t seem to catch the blush creeping onto your cheeks, which you were thankful for. After all, it was just to make the whole plan seem more believable.. Though none of what you said were lies, you really appreciated the dynamic you shared as friends - yeah - just friends.

And after making the rounds of greetings and introductions to your extended family, you were finally able to steal Chungha away for a moment outside. There was a small fire that stood abandoned now that nearly everyone was inside for the football game that was blaring from the television in the living room, so you took advantage of this moment of calm to go warm yourselves by it.

“My family’s pretty wild, huh?” You remarked with a small chuckle, looking up from the fire to make eye contact with your friend.

“I guess everyone’s is to an extent, but I really like them! I’m glad they think I’m good enough for you,” Chungha teased, returning the look with a wide grin. “That and your little cousins are super cute.” She added.

As soon as Chungha had finished her sentence, you dad had called you both in for dinner, which was now ready and set on the table. You both went inside, and you walked in feeling relieved that Chungha was enjoying herself. You hoped the rest of the night would go just as smoothly.

-

And it did. Dinner was great, thankfully you managed to eloquently handle any questions your family threw at you about your relationship with your date. The rest of the night went great as well, you watched sports, entertained your cousins (Chungha was really good with kids) and answered questions about what you had been up to while you were away. Chungha especially had gotten her fair share of inquiries from your family, too. They really seemed to love her, and to be honest, you were beginning to as well.

The festivities eventually drew to a close, though, and you were ready to turn in for the night. Your parents had set up your old room as a place for you and Chungha to stay over the couple days you were there, so the two of you got ready for bed and said your goodnights.

-

“Hey Chungha,” You spoke up after a few minutes of laying in bed. You’ve had something on your mind ever since you had gotten to your parents house, and wanted to say it before you talked yourself out of it.

“Yeah?” She replied, turning over to face you.

“Look, I know I last-minute invited you to my family’s Christmas so that they’d stop bothering me about being single, but I really enjoyed myself with you tonight, so could we keep this up until New Years?”

“I’ll do you one better: how about for as long as we want?”

“I’d love that.”