#how awful would it be to find out your most valiant

[the-husbando]

This one was so fun :3

[losfacedevil]

Would You Be So Kind // SFK

Sometimes you find love in the most unexpected places - like the venue in which you work. When up and coming band Greta Van Fleet books a whirlwind sold out long weekend you find yourself very partial to the baby faced bass player - who seems to make a valiant effort to get to know you on a more personal level.

Sam Kiskza x Reader Friends to Lovers

WC. 6.3k+

The cool wind of the night seeped through your puffer coat - a clear sign that you had overstayed your welcome at the venue. After having been there all day, your patience was quickly dwindling as you fought with the keys and the lock on the employee entrance. Pulling a deep breath in through your nose you puffed it out through puckered lips slowly, watching as the steam it created danced softly in front if you. You let your mind wander, going over the remote to the pyrotechnics you would have to control along with the regular mixing of their music.

A new up-and-coming band had booked the space for the weekend - or so you had thought. A mini residency as your boss has called it; which called for a long week of learning their musical mixings and just how their pyrotechnics worked. A single string of notes in a song calling for the entire stage lights to change and pyrotechnics to shoot off, creating a beautiful scene for the audience. They had only given you the instrumentals, an easier way to focus on the notes you needed to as you read through the mixes you would have to create with your sound board. A sigh of relief having slipped from your chest when you realized they played their own instruments and needed next to no help in the sound department.

Your mind finally wandered back to reality, shaking yourself from your thoughts and took another deep breath in to calm your otherwise shaky nerves. It was then you noticed that you weren’t alone and watched closely as a young man rounded the corner onto the otherwise abandoned street, his eyes trained on the building you had just exited. He planted his feet firmly on the concrete, his gaze not moving from the neon sign displaying the venue name. The look on his face could be described as awe, his eyes fully alight as he straightened his back and smiled to himself.

“Take a picture, it’ll last longer.” You chuckled, walking slowly down the stairs to his right. You weren’t sure who he was, but knew that he looked almost inviting. The twinkle in his eyes, curvature of his mouth and the way he reached up to run a hand through his to the chin length dark hair calming any nerves you had being in his presence. The sound of your voice shook him from his train of thought and he glanced around, trying to find the source of the voice. His eyes found yours as a cheeky smile spread across his face and he flicked his gaze back to the venue name.

“We will! This is the first big venue we’re playing.” He called, pointing up towards the sign. You cocked your head to the side, slowly sauntering over to where he stood, his feet glued in place. Standing a few feet away from him, you tucked your hands safely into your pockets and glanced up at the sign as well.

“You’re playing here huh? I wouldn’t exactly call this a big venue though.” You chuckled, the nod to your 1,500 max capacity venue being a big venue tickling your funny bone. The young man laughed and turned his attention towards you, mirroring your stance and tucking his gloved hands safely away in his pockets as well.

“It’s bigger than the shitty dive bars and farmers markets we’ve been playing these last few years. The new album we came out with seems to be a hit, some places even reached out to us to play there.” He shrugged his shoulders, letting his eyes dance slowly down the length of your figure. You cocked your head to the side and a soft hum of approval slipped through your nose as a soft smile spread across your face.

“Alright, I’ll give you that, this place is definitely bigger than the dive bars down town.” You chuckled, remembering the shitty shows you used to go to as a party girl in her early twenty-somethings.

“I’m Sammy, by the way. Or Sam for short, which ever you prefer. We’re playing here this weekend. Brian rented the space for three nights and we’ve sold them all out. Ever heard of us?” He questioned, holding his hand out in your direction. A genuine smile spread across your face as you slipped your hand out of your pocket and into his, the gentle but firm handshake grounding you as your name slipped past your lips.

“I don’t know, have I? Does your band go by the name of Sammy?” You joked, knowing only the first name of the lanky boy stood in front of you. His eyes grew wide and the already rosy apples of his cheeks burned a deeper shade of red. A soft sigh slipped past Sam’s lips amongst that of nervous chuckles and a high pitched giggle.

“No… I’m sure my brothers would kill me if I told you the name of the band was Sammy and the boys. We go by Greta Van Fleet, ever heard of us?” Pursing your lips, you cocked your head to the side and wracked your brain for any instance in which you would have heard the band name. You shook your head and with a soft shrug of your shoulders gently slipped your hand off of Sam’s gentle grasp.

“I can’t say that I have. Would it be worth my wild to look you guys up?” Your fingers were already itching to pull your phone out of your back pocket, knowing you’d be able to find them with a quick search on your music streaming service. A boisterous laugh escaped Sam’s chest and he tilted his head back slightly, as if embarrassed by the sound he had just produced.

“You can’t ask a band member that, we’ll always tell you that we’re the greatest musicians on the planet! But I do think we’re pretty great if I do say so myself.” He chuckled, holding his hand out, palm side up as he bowed in a courteous manner. You shook your head at the boys antics and pulled your arm up to eye level, shaking your coat sleeve down past your watch.

“Well, it was a pleasure to meet you, Sammy. But I’ve gotta jet before my mother thinks I’ve gotten lost somewhere along my travels. Maybe I’ll see you around.” You shrugged, knowing full well you were about to spend your weekend with the cute boy standing in front of you.

“Come to the show Friday night! I’ll put you on my VIP list. Just hit the box office and tell em you’re here to see me, they’ll let you in without a ticket.” He spoke quickly, as if anxiety was beginning to creep up inside his chest. You giggled softly and reached out your hand, nodding towards him as he slid his gloved hand into yours, another gentle yet firm handshake.

“Maybe I will, we’ll see how it plays out. Have a good night, Sammy.” He tipped his head in a gentle nod and removed his hand from yours, replacing it back into the warmth of his pocket. You couldn’t help but to take in his side profile one last time before turning on your heel and leaving him staring at the venue.

~*~*~

Show nights were always chaotic.

A sigh slipped past your lips as you fumbled with the controller that would set off their pyrotechnics and fire, changing the batteries in the device so there was no chance of a misfire. You could hear the hustle and bustle of their equipment beginning to be brought in through the backstage door, rolling carts of who knows what, small parts of a drum kit and two different sting instrument guitar cases; everything being parked right inside of the back door waiting for you to begin setting up.

“So they just keep their pedals with them and not with the kits that got brought in yesterday?” You mumbled, bending at the waist to pick up two different pedals. One you recognized as something for the drum kit and the other was more geared towards a string instrument. Studying the pedal, you turned it over in your hand looking for any markings that would indicate who or what instrument it belonged to.

“Alright I give! Guitar or Bass?” You yelled, turning on your heel to try and find one of the bands crew members with the pedal held high above your head. A familiar chuckle sounded from the other side of your booth and your heart skipped a beat as you spun around quickly looking for the source of the sound.

“That’s mine! It’s for the bass.” He called, slowly making his way around the corner and into your line of sight. Sam’s jaw dropped slightly as his mind made the connection to the night you both had met just nights prior. Reaching up he clapped a hand over his open mouth and pointed in your direction with his other hand. You couldn’t help the giggles that slipped past your lips as you bent at the knee and placed the pedal down gingerly against one of the packs.

“Hi Sammy.” Your voice remained high pitched, the anxiety in your chest overtaking all of your senses. Slowly, you made your way over to where he stood, seemingly glued to the floor. His eyes never left yours and his hand dropped from midair down to his side as the hand he had covering his mouth moved up and he carded his fingers through his shoulder length dark hair.

“You! I know you! You didn’t tell me!” His voice trailed off as he watched you slowly close the space between the two of you, tucking your hands safely into the kangaroo pouch of your hoodie to keep them occupied. A wide grin spread across your face as you cocked your head to the side and shrugged your shoulders.

“You put me, someone you just met, on your VIP list. I couldn’t burst your bubble and tell yo I work here. Couldn’t give away all of my secrets, now could I?” You couldn’t help the giggles that slipped past your lips as a dumbfounded expression kissed his features. Someone called for him down the hall, turning his head to glance over his shoulder he reached up and held up a finger, telling whoever to hold on.

“Well yeah, I wanted you to see the show but… you’re gonna be running the show?!” His voice jumped an octave, eyes widening as you nodded and turned your attention to the last couple of packs that were being rolled in through the door.

“Just mixing some of the guitars and bass when needed. Oh and running the pyrotechnics! Getting the house lights to drop at the same time the background and confetti and smoke fire off during Light My Love took me a week to perfect.” Sam’s jaw dropped and he tilted his head slowly to the side - never once asking how any of the background things besides the mixing of the music was done.

“Wait… that’s not just something automatic? It’s not just the push of a button?” You shook your head slowly and pulled the controller out of your pocket.

“It takes this bad boy and a few different controls in the mixing booth to get it all to work together. Nothing as intricate as your stage show is as simple as the touch of an easy button.” Sam nodded, trying to wrap his head around what you had just said and how you would be the one to control something as dangerous as their fire shooters.

“Sam if you don’t get your ass over here!” The voice that had initially called him was louder as another young man rounded the corner. Sammy pulled his lips to the side and turned his attention to the boy behind him, flinching as he clapped a hand down against his shoulder. A soft smile spread across your lips as the other young man nodded in your direction, shooting you a welcoming smile. He only came to Sam’s shoulder, his hand dancing just above his head as it rested on Sam’s shoulders, his dark hair almost the same length and color as Sam’s. The resemblance between them was uncanny.

“Why are you yelling?” Sam chuckled, the nerves he had initially swallowed down slowly creeping back up his throat.

“I’m yelling because if we don’t get back to hair and make up Josh might kick our asses. You can flirt with the staff later.” He chuckled, giving Sam’s shoulder a gentle squeeze before turning on his heel and made a bee line to the opposite side of the venue.

“I am NOT flirting with the staff! She asked a question!” Sam yelled, his cheeks blazed red and he reached up, cupping his hand around one of his cheeks. Jakes chuckle could be heard bouncing off the empty hallway walls as he retreated back to where he came.

“I think homeboy wants your presence in hair and make up, Sammy.” You giggled, stuffing the device you were still holding back into your pocket. Sam pulled a deep breath in through his nose and shook his head, glancing quickly over his shoulder.

“That uh… pffft. That would be my brother Jake, Josh is my other brother. The man is a diva and he may kick my ass if I don’t get back there. Maybe I’ll see you after the show?” Sam asked and a hopeful smile spread across his face. You nodded enthusiastically and took a step back in the direction of the equipment you needed to finish setting up.

“I can’t wait to see you in action.” You giggled, turning on your heel to return your attention to his bass pedal. Sam couldn’t help the smile that spread across his face as he turned to leave and with one brief look over his shoulder called out,

“You best be careful, I need that pedal!”

You felt your eyes begin to roll before you had a chance to control the action and reached up, shooing him away with the motion of your hand.

~*~*~

A sigh of relief slipped past your lips as you popped the batteries out of the controller you had used for the pyrotechnics and tossed it all into your locked drawer. The house lights were finally up for the night and you could breathe a sigh of relief now that their set was finally over. You had been blown away by their live set, taking in just how expressive Sam’s face was as he played. You sat back in your booth and waited for the crowd to disperse before slowly making your way backstage.

Sam sat on his trunk with his head leaned against the wall behind him. He had changed out of his stage clothes quickly, now dressed in thick plaid red pajama pants and a threadbare t-shirt advertising a high school cross country team. You breezed past him, not wanting to bother him as he looked completely spent, his already heavy eyelids resting even heavier against his tired eyes. A soft smile spread across his face as he sat up and reached out, wrapping his hand around the hoodie you had tied around your waist.

A soft noise escaped you as the hoodie was pulled from your waist and you turned on your heel to see Sam in possession of the article of clothing and a sheepish smile painted across his face. He rolled the hoodie up in his arms and reached out, holding it out to you. With a soft shake of your head you took a step forward and plucked it from his grasp.

“Well I never.” You giggled, wrapping the hoodie back where it had originally been. Sam kept the hand he had held the hoodie it held out in your direction, palm side up and kept his eyes on yours. There was something about those downturned sleepy brown eyes that drew you to him, and your reached out, placing your hand in his. Sam tugged lightly, causing you to move a few steps forward.

“I’ll see you the rest of this weekend, right?” He questioned, his eyes never leaving yours as your lips quirked up into a soft smile and you nodded.

“Yeah I’ll be around. After all, someone does have to run the show, now don’t they Sammy?” You giggled, stepping even closer to where he sat perched on top of his trunk. He puffed out his cheeks and averted his gaze as you settled your hips between his knees and reached out to tuck a stray strand of hair behind his ear.

“Well I guess you’ve got me there, don’t you?” He chuckled, tilting his head to gaze up at you. A soft giggle escaped you as you took a step back, suddenly very conscious of your close proximity to him. Sam acted on impulse and reached out, wrapping his arms around your lower back and pulled you back to where you had originally been standing. Your breath caught in your throat as you reached your hands up and cupped his cheeks, letting your mind wander as his eyes fluttered shut.

“Oh great, now he’s getting handsy with the staff, Josh!” Jake called, rolling his eyes as he rounded the corner and caught a glimpse of you wrapped up in his little brother. You eyes grew wide and you let your hands fall, taking a step back to break Sam’s embrace. Mouthing a silent and quick ‘sorry’ you reached out to ruffle his already messy hair before taking off in the direction of the janitorial office.

~*~*~*~

The weekend blew by in a blur.

You had spent the majority of both days at the venue, getting there hours before the band and staying to help clean up hours after they had left. Sleep had been scarce, and you were finally feeling the effects of your choices weighing down on your shoulders as you collapsed into the seat in your booth and folded your arms on the desk, creating a soft space to lay your head against.

It was their last night playing the venue and Sam had made it a point to pop in hours before sound check was set to start. He had snuck backstage and out of your view, a bouquet of roses and food you had been gushing about wanting for dinner last night and knew you’d be leaving too late to get tucked in his duffel bag. He pulled a deep breath in through his nose and took the bouquet of roses out of his duffle bag gently. Sam toyed with the flowers in his hand, debating on if he should bring them to you or rest them next to the take out containers he had planned to surprise you with. A sigh slipped past his lips and he nodded to himself as he wrapped his hand tightly around the stems of the roses and took off in the direction of your mixing booth.

You could hear footsteps approaching and slowly peeled your head up off of your arms, shaking it slightly to try and wake yourself up a little more. The footsteps came to a halt just beyond your door, as if the person had just vanished or changed their mind and retreated from where you sat. After a moment of waiting you deemed the coast to be clear and rested your head back onto your folded arms.

“For you?” Sam’s soft voice reverberated around in your mind and you tried to pull yourself back up into the conscious realm. It was only a moment before you felt his hand on your back, rubbing soothing circles between your shoulder blades. A soft smile caressed your lips as you moved slowly and rolled your head to face him.

“Hi Sammy.” You mumbled, slowly pushing yourself into a seated position and willed your eyes to open. Sam stood to your left with a bouquet of roses held in such a way he was covering the bottom half of his face. You couldn’t help the sleepy giggle that escaped you as you reached out and wrapped your hand around the bouquet.

“For me, huh? Is this to make up for all the teasing I’ve endured this week? Yknow your brothers can lay it on thick.” You joked, your mind wandering to all the silly comments the other boys had made over the last few days. A soft smile caressed Sam’s lips as he wrapped his arm securely around your shoulders and pulled you against him, his gaze never leaving your face as you stuck it into the roses.

“You doing alright? We’re not running you ragged are we?” He asked, genuine concern lacing his tone. You nodded gently, letting your head fall to the side and rest against him. Yous eyes fluttered shut as he began to rub his hand over your shoulder, and you reveled in the feeling of warmth the friction was creating.

“I’m alright. Big show days stress me out regardless of the artist. We were just lucky to run a sold out mini residency this weekend so… this week has been tough.” You spoke through the yawn that slipped past your lips. Sam chuckled and brought his hand up to ruffle the hair on the top of your head.

“I’m sorry our little big band has stolen your sleep. But I think I can make up for a it a bit, come with me!” A soft sigh slipped past your lips as Sam took a step to the side and you pushed yourself to stand, dragging your feet as you followed behind him. Sam couldn’t help but glance over his shoulder as he listened to you dragging your slip-on clad feet across the floor and a soft smile graced his face as he watched you; your gaze trained pointedly on your hands as you picked at your nails - a nervous tick you had that he had picked up on.He slowed to a stop and waited for you to catch up.

“May I?” He questioned, positioning his arm in a triangle against his side and nodded in your direction. One side of your lips pulled up into a smile as you closed the distance and looped your arm through his, placing your hand against his bicep. Sam pulled a deep breath in through his nose, holding it briefly as you rested your head against his arm and allowed him to direct you to your destination.

“Now I know it’s just my green room and it’s nothing special but..” he trailed of, gently placing a hand on your elbow and pulled his arm out from yours, gently guiding you to the beat up couch in the middle of the room. He helped lower you down to the couch and turned at the waist to grab the duffle bag off of the opposite side of the couch.

“Last night you had said something to Josh about tacos from that little place up the street, ‘they’re the best in town! Ugh I wish they were open later on the weekends though!’ and how you were sad you wouldn’t be able to catch them before they closed. So I thought maybe a little lunch before we drive you crazy on our last night here would make up for our chaos.” His booming voice turned shy and soft as his nerves began to kick in and, with a shaky hand, he pulled the take out container out of his duffle and handed it to you.

You couldn’t help the overwhelming feeling that washed over you and your eyes began to fill with tears at the simple gesture. A soft giggle escaped you as you popped opened the take out container and looked up, fighting back the tears that threatened to fall.

“You were listening to what I told Josh I get?” Your bottom lip pushed out in a pout and flickered your eyes up to look at him. A light pink blush had spread across the apples of his cheeks and was starting to creep down his neck as he watched you nearly have a meltdown over a trio of tacos.

“I may have been. But you were so bummed out we were keeping you here past closing time, it was the least I could do.” He spoke fast, his nerves now getting the best of him. Pulling a deep breath in through your nose you closed the take out container and placed it on the little table in front of you before pushing yourself up off of the couch and closed the distance between the both of you. Without a second thought you reached out and wrapped your arms around his waist, nuzzling your face against the soft material of his shirt. Sam’s eyes grew wide at your gesture, finding himself almost unsure of what to do.

“Thank you, Sammy. It means a lot.” Your voice was high pitched as you fought back the tears in your eyes and the sob that was slowly clawing its way up your throat. Sam took a deep breath and wrapped his arms around your shoulders securely, tipping his head to rub the tip of his nose against the crown of your head.

“You are so welcome. Now eat before it gets any colder than it already is.” He chuckled, fighting the urge to press a kiss to the crown of your head. He pulled away from you and dug back into his duffle bag, plucking his own lunch out of it as well as two bottles of water.

“Mind if I eat with you?” He asked, nodding towards the seat next to where you had originally been sitting. You giggled softly and sat back in your spot, tapping gently on the couch next to you.

“It would be my pleasure.”

Sam sighed dramatically as he sat next to you, placing his take out container safely on his lap and reached out to hand you a bottle of water. You watched him closely as he reached over and grabbed your food from the table and gently placed it in your lap before popping open his own container.

“So tell me, how long have you been running the show around these parts?” He chuckled, inspecting the burrito that sat in the take out container before lifting it to his mouth and taking a bite.

“Honestly? This is the first year in a big girl venue. The last few years I was just DJing college parties and school dances, working at the local radio station, nothing too crazy. Then on a whim I applied for an opening here and well, it’s been a whirlwind of chaos ever since. But it’s usually local bands that play here, not known names. I think you guys are the first OH EM GEE! Band that’s played here.” You couldn’t help the giggle that slipped past your lips as he rolled his eyes and continued to eat.

“So what I’m hearing is, we’re the first real in your hair band that you can’t boss around because we’re not locals and you don’t know us like that.” He stated, letting a boisterous laugh slip past his lips as your eyes widened and you nearly choked on the mouthful of food you were chewing.

“I said nothing of the sort! Don’t be putting words in my mouth. What about you guys? How long have you been playing music?” Sam shrugged his shoulders and placed his burrito down, wiping his hands off of his sweats before holding one up and counted on his fingers.

“Well we’ve been versed in music since before we could talk, but we were in high school before we - and by we I mean Jake, this was all his doing - but we really didn’t start the whole band thing until maybe freshman or sophomore year? And we’ve been kinda playing with it ever since. This is the first time we’ve played somewhere outside of Michigan.”

“So you’re from Michigan?” You questioned, nodding along as you tried to piece together the timeline he had vaguely touched upon.

“Yeah a little town most people haven’t heard of. We played around there for years and now that we’ve gained some traction we’re trying to push the limits and see how far we can take it.” You nodded and watched as he turned his attention back to his food, a silent ending to a not quite finished conversation.

A comfortable silence fell over the two of you as you ate and you kept your eyes downcast, taking in the silly sandals that adorned his feet. Something you had become accustomed to over the last few days, the toss up between Sammy being barefoot and Sammy wearing his old, well loved Birkenstocks.

“What I’m trying to say is… thanks. Thank you for thinking of me… this means more than you’ll probably ever realize. Not many people pay attention to the stage hands unless their show isn’t going according to plan and then it’s just a big mess of yelling and anger so… it’s been nice to have someone show me some sort of human empathy and compassion, I guess.” Sam’s brows furrowed together and his eyes focused on your face, blindly closing the take out container that sat on his lap and he placed it gently on the table in front of him.

“Empathy and compassion? Shit, all I did was make sure you ate.” You couldn’t help the giggle that slipped past your lips as you reached out and swiped your thumb along his bottom lip, brushing away a grain of rice that had become stuck there.

“And brought me flowers?! But sure, we’ll leave it at that. Just know I appreciate the gesture.” You mumbled, watching closely as his cheeks began to warm with a soft pink hue and a wide grin spread across his face.

“If you wanted to touch the goods all you had to do was ask.” He chuckled, reaching up and wrapping his hand around yours, he slowly pulled it away from his cheek and brought it to his lips, pressing a soft series of kisses to the skin. Your bottom lip found a home securely between your teeth and you gently slipped your hand out of his.

“I uh… I have to go start setting up for sound check but uh… I’ll see you around after the show, right?” You asked, knowing their agenda and hoping for a few moments alone to say goodbye to your bass player. Sam nodded gently and stood, reaching a hand out for you to take. A soft smile spread across his face as you slipped your hand into his and allowed him to walk you back to the mixing booth in a comfortable silence.

~*~*~

A sigh of relief flew out of you and your shoulders slumped forward as the house lights came on for the final time in Greta Van Fleets mini residency weekend. The crowed cheered louder than you had heard this weekend and the band bowed one last time before blowing kisses out into the crowd and malign their way backstage. You leaned back in your chair as the crowed around your floor level booth began to disperse and it wasn’t long before you had a clear path to the backstage hallway.

You made a quick beeline for the hallway, sneaking through the door before anyone remaining in the floor area could see where you had slipped through. Everyone puttering around the hallway and areas were full of smiles and laughs, a successful first residency in the books for up and coming rock band Greta Van Fleet. A huge accomplishment for any small artist. You exchanged quick pleasantries with each person you passed by, not wanting to seem rude as you slowly made your way to Sam’s dressing room.

You knocked on the door and giggled the handle slightly, waiting for an answer from the other side. A huff of annoyance could be heard as the doorknob turned and he ripped the door open.

“Josh I swear… oh, hi! You’re not Josh.” An embarrassed chuckle slipped past Sam’s lips as his expression softened. You weren’t sure what your face read as your heart hammered in your chest and you took a step back from him.

“I’m sorry I… I’m gonna go.” you mumbled, keeping your head hung and turning quickly on your heel to bee line it away from his door. Sam felt his heart break at your reaction, one he didn’t expect as his tone had changed once he realized it was you. Taking a quick step forward he wrapped his arms around your shoulders and pulled you flush against his chest, walking backwards into his dressing room and kicked the door shut.

“Not so fast. I’m sorry if I startled you. Josh has just been on our case because we’re on a time crunch. We need to be out of there by midnight we have a six am to catch. He’s afraid if we don’t speed out of here we won’t sleep and… I’m sorry I’m rambling.” He mumbled, slowly swaying you in place. You pulled a deep breath in through your nose and allowed your head to fall back, resting against his shoulder. You let your eyes flutter shut, committing the feeling of his arms around you and the scent that was undeniably him to your memory, knowing there was a chance you’d never see him again.

“I didn’t mean to catch you off guard I just… I wanted a few minutes before the whirlwind of your brothers swept you away and I didn’t get to say bye.” Your voice cracked a bit and you pulled in another breath to steady yourself, willing away the tears that were welling in your eyes.

“No it’s okay, I was gonna come find you once I had changed out of my stage clothes.” You nodded gently, and reached up, wrapping your hands around his arm. Sam tightened his grip on you briefly before letting go and spinning you in his grasp.

“It’s been one hell of a weekend. Thanks for hanging out and making sure our show ran smoothly. We wouldn’t have been able to do it without you.” Sam reached up and pinched at the apple of your cheek, earning himself a sad giggle.

“Yeah well, there wouldn’t be a show to run smoothly had you guys not played.” You shrugged, tilting your head to finally meet Sam’s gaze. Sam smiled down at you and wrapped his arms around your shoulders, pulling your body flush against his. Pulling a shaky breath in through your nose, your reserve broke and tears flowed freely down your cheeks. A soft laugh escaped you, and you wrapped your arms tightly around Sam’s waist, allowing yourself to feel the emotions coursing through your body.

“Hey, hey now. It’s just til next tour. We’ll be back for another residency, I can promise you that.” Sam mumbled, swaying your bodies gently in place. He pulled a deep breath in and slowly released it, trying to keep his own emotions in check.

“You better come back. I’ll be highly upset if I see a tour announcement and we’re not on the list.” A boisterous laugh escaped Sam’s chest and the rumble of it vibrated against your ear, earning him another tearful giggle.

“Hey, look at me.” His voice was soft and he unraveled himself from you, holding his arms out as you pulled back from him.

“Aw man, your shirts wet.” You joked, knowing you were the cause of it. Sam shook his head at you and cupped your cheeks in his hands, running his thumbs along the apples of your cheeks to dry your tears.

“And so is your face. Promise me you’ll keep smiling that pretty smile, okay? We’ll be back before you know it, I’ll make sure of it.” He kept his voice soft, as if speaking to a child who was highly upset.

“I… I’m gonna miss you.” With your confession came a fresh wave of tears, and a sad giggle as you shook your head trying to will the tears away. Sam leaned down and pressed a feather light kiss to your forehead, one you would have missed had you not been paying attention.

“I’ll miss you too. But it’s only until next tour, okay? In the blink of an eye we’ll be back to drive you even more crazy than we drove you this time.” He chuckled, pulling the cuff of his hoodie up over his hand and gently wiped away the rest of your tears.

“You better. Pinky promise?” You giggled through your tears and held up your hand with your pinky out, ready for him to link his with. He couldn’t help the way he rolled his eyes - the tears threatened to well up causing a prickling sensation he couldn’t shake - and he reached out to link his pinky with yours.

“Pinky promise. Now you gotta stop it with the tears because it’s all over if I start crying.” He chuckled, reaching out to wrap you in one more long, heart hammering inducing hug before pressing another kiss to your forehead.

“I’m gonna go clean up before the boss man realizes I’m gone. Stay safe out there, Sammy, please.” Sam nodded and reached out, wrapping his hand around yours gently.

“You stay safe too, I need you to be here to bug when we come back after all.” He chuckled, reveling in the way your smile lit up your eyes.

“Don’t you worry, I’m not going anywhere. Bye Sammy, until next tour.” You reached up and saluted him, earning yourself the absolutely wild laugh of his that had you swooning the day you met him.

“Until next tour.” He slowly let his hand drop from yours and watched as you made your way out of his dressing room, clicking the door closed softly behind you.

He let out a deep breath he hadn’t realized he had been holding and tipped his head back, letting the tears he had been fighting finally win. A soft ‘fuck’ escaping his lips as he tried to get his bearings and pack up the rest of his things, ready to hit the road to their next big destination.

TAGLIST: @readyforthegarden @ascendingtostardust @sammysprincess @sammykiszkamyass @belovedsamuel @dannythedog @sunfl0wer-power @vanfleeter @runwayblues @the-wicked-gnome @sinsofstardust @stardustvanfleet @allieisacrybaby @texas-bbq-pringles @freyjalw @girlattheseaside @asendingtothestarsasone @demonrat444 @sparrowofthedawnsworld @itsafullmoon @literal-dead-leaf

[pink-november]

Oh hear me out, what if the 1st playthrough of "save the monster" (swapname?) It still go through the base assumptions of their role, like oh "arent monsters are supposed to be slain?" And if you actually go through with it, the long quiet will kill you instantly. Just as the princesses 's default goal is always to get out, what if the monsters is to kill? And with each perspectivr you bring, itll change how they react to princess later on (kill, spare, something else)

-N

hm

There is a mountain at the center of the land from which rumors tell of a slumbering beast capable of tearing the world apart.

The path to its location was arduous and filled with obstacles even the most valiant knight would find difficult.

You are a princess, on your way to slay the monster threatening the safety of your people for good.

"I don't think this is a good idea at all, Your Highness."

You turn to your knight wordlessly, his nervous smile failing to hide the mounting fear in his eyes.

You reassure him still because he is a precious friend from your childhood and you are used to his behavior. He is after all tasked to protect you from any danger and the journey you're in is anything but safety.

"You shouldn't had listened to the Duke. You know he only wishes to see you dead."

You nod, remembering the wicked Duke with his mysterious smirk as he dared challenged you and your right to the throne. Your hands clenched tightly around the dagger he bestowed upon so eagerly, the blade dull and chipped, a ceremonial blade at its best.

You are insulted. You threw it on the rocky road you're trekking in with a huff, extending a hand towards you're knight, a firm request to give you his sword instead.

"I've heard worse ideas in my life."

He still gives you his weapon, his belief in you a comfort and grim acceptance all at once.

You reached the entrance of a dark cave, shadows licking the soles of your boots. A princess you may be but a dress is hardly armor for the beast you are about to slay. Instead you don the finest armor your knight provided you and with it the strength you'll need for the impending fight.

Your knight doesn't say anything while you jog to where you hope the beast lays. You hope he isn't getting cold feet now.

Then you see it.

A mighty looming creature in the middle of a wide cavern, terrifying yet magnificent in all its entirety. You cannot discern its form just yet, just a mass of shadows that fills you with awe and fear and-

It was silent.

It did not appear to be breathing nor disturbed at your entrance. Still as a crystal clear lake, immovable like the mountain it is buried under.

Your task becomes easier the moment you step forward.

You raised the heavy sword you carry and swung it without remorse at where you hope the monster's head is.

"Princess!"

And suddenly the earth shook.

The monster roared with a deafening silence that made your knees tremble, a hundred eyes and none staring at you, judging you, killing you, comforting you, grabbing you, devouring you, shredding you-

You die before you even had the chance to fall to the ground.

--

There is a mountain in the center of the land, home to a mythical beast rumored to end the world when it is awakened.

A poor village thrived on what crops the land could offer near this horrifying abode but the people were content here with what they have and a relative peace was established in their everyday lives.

There was a graveyard there, filled with the bodies of loved ones long past. And it is haunted by you.

You are a revenant, shocked to awareness of your situation, floating above an unmarked grave.

You scream.

[classickook]

more könig headcanons

a/n: i literally cannot get this man out of my head lol i wrote this with civilian!reader in mind and it ended up getting pretty specific (flower shop au???) but i hope y’all still enjoy <3

<< prev | next >>

- idk how the two of you meet but i’m imagining a quaint little town that’s far away from any sort of battle that könig stumbles upon while on break

- let me set the scene: you work in a floral shop or market and spend most of your day planting, nurturing, and arranging a variety of flowers <3

- könig sees you one day and is immediately drawn to your kind smile and sunny aura (no wonder the flowers are so beautiful when they look upon you for sunlight and nourishment, he thinks) and finds himself a bit extremely nervous to introduce himself

- you notice him shuffling awkwardly by the door so you greet him warmly and ask if there’s something you can help him find

- i just know our gentle giant is blushing like crazy at this point; being so close to you and hearing the soft timbre of your voice has his blood pressure skyrocketing

- he shoves his hands in his pockets to hide how shaky they are and tries to act all casual but ends up accidentally knocking over an arrangement next to the door

- the poor guy is BEET RED now and wishes the floor would open up and swallow him whole, he’s so embarrassed :(

- he apologizes profusely and feels SO awful for ruining your pretty arrangement, he even offers to pay for it but you wave him off easily as he picks up the broken vase and crushed petals

- “don’t worry about it,” you offer kindly. “it wasn’t my best work anyway.”

- könig still feels like absolute garbage and you can clearly tell by his body language that he feels terribly uncomfortable and kinda curls into that massive body of his to appear smaller

- “did you know that the gladiolus symbolizes strength and integrity like the gladiators of their namesake?” you ask as a way to distract him from the little accident. his pale blue eyes settle on you as you continue, lightly stroking the baby soft petals of the arrangement nearby. “they kind of remind me of you, soldier. valiant and strong yet undoubtedly beautiful.”

- they also represent infatuation is what you don’t tell him, afraid to voice your immediate crush on the man who quite literally stumbled into your floral shop

- “they’re pretty,” he breathes, however, you notice his gaze is not on the flowers you’re showcasing — it’s on you

- your breath catches in your throat at the unwavering contact, stunned into silence as he cautiously reaches forward to brush his gloveless fingers across your cheek; and he’s pleased to find that the velvety-smooth sensation of your skin is incomparable to that of any petal on earth

- from there on out, könig spends most of his free time in your shop, asking about the meanings of every flower, buying a bouquet of your recommendations each day, and carefully placing them on the counter for you before he leaves

- he finally builds up the courage to ask you out, properly, to which you very quickly agree, and the two of you are inseparable after that

- you spend most of your time with him, going for walks in the park, visiting cafes in the area and laughing loudly when könig plops a fingertip of whipped cream on your nose just to lean forward and kiss the sweetness into his mouth, leaving you a blushing mess

- calls you his blümchen (little flower)

- he definitely strikes me as the type who would follow you around like a puppy and do anything you ask! könig aka sunshine/golden retriever bf we all deserve <3

- want him to carry your purse? done

- need some help around the shop? no problem

- you end up buying too much at the store and need him to hold everything for you? you got it

- someone bothering you? consider it already taken care of

- he’s basically your bodyguard and takes your safety very, very seriously; the epitome of scary boyfriend privilege right here

- this man adores you and worships the ground you walk on!!!! enamored doesn’t even begin to express his feelings for you

- literal definition of a simp

- would do anything and everything for you; i’m talking he would kill or die for you (he’s a bit dramatic but we love that about him)

- he loves holding your hand, playing with your fingers, brushing your hair as you lay on his chest ! könig goes crazy for that stuff :)

- especially loves skin-to-skin contact because he wants to get as close to you as possible; he just can’t get enough!

- as i’ve said before, this man’s love language is physical touch and he uses it as a relaxant if he’s anxious or on sensory overload

- extremely observant and can read you like a book (as can you; the two of you just get each other, ya know? match made in heaven fr)

- perfect for cuddling ! literally more comfortable than any pillow or bed, so you end up sleeping on him most of the time and he’s 100% okay with that

- könig loves having you in his arms, especially if he’s just recently come back from a mission, and it makes him so unbelievably happy that you feel safe with him :’)

- has a picture of you in his wallet that he pulls out every single night while he’s away from you on a mission. the poor photo is so wrinkled and faded from the number of times he takes it out but he refuses to throw it away even when you suggest on replacing it; he would never pass up on more pictures of you but i can guarantee he would keep all of them (scrapbook king <3)

- he’s as much of a lover as he is a fighter and i stand by that

- would never ever raise his voice at you; if the two of you get in an argument, he would simply take a breather and maybe go for a walk to clear his head before coming back to hug you and apologize and make things right

- if when he eventually proposes, i know for a fact that it would be with a family heirloom that holds a lot of history and sentimental value (because he’s sweet like that)

- he’s such a good guy, i love him to death!!!! (men all over the world: take notes)

[lightwithinthedarknessu]

Bloom From The Depths🪷

Able to share my @kairizine fic where our KH girls get to go on a mini adventure! Thank you so much again for having me! Was a dream come true to write for Kairi again 🥺💖

Summary: Kairi is called by Leon and Co to investigate a locked file addressed to her within the main-hub of the cavern of remembrance. Namine and Aqua join Kairi on her journey to unlock her memories with a little help from some unexpected friends. While facing her fears Kairi is reunited with those she misses most.

A magical journey through the language of flowers and their deep connection to hearts connected by the dearest of memories.

Written for @kairizine2023 featuring gorgeous spot art by @mellekist!

From the depths of Radiant Garden, a blight remained, sprawling with cavernous pathways and crumbling cliffsides teeming with Heartless. Even the Restoration Committee’s valiant efforts were not enough to repair the scars left by the Dark Seeker’s reign. One of these blights, the Cavern of Remembrance, beckoned a new visitor: a Princess of Heart.

Kairi didn’t think she would return to her home world so soon. The past year she spent asleep had been long enough. Now was the time for action—Sora was still missing. The plan was to train hard until she could join Riku on his search. However, a message from Leon changed the tide.

Kairi, it’s been a while. Cid found something: a file addressed to you. It’s attached to a code we can’t crack, not without your help. Ansem says you’ll need to visit this place called the Cavern of Remembrance. It’s still swarming with Heartless, but I know you’ll be fine. 

You up for an adventure?

Excitement flooded her veins. It was the perfect vacation from training. Maybe there was more information locked within the garden’s depths that could help Sora!

Bits and pieces remained of the legend of the Cavern of Remembrance. As a child, someone had told Kairi that it was a place that twisted and formed to suit the purpose of the visitor. Memories, hearts, and wishes worked their magic to weave together a place of reminiscence for the denizens of times past. A part of Kairi felt this place housed more memories and fading emotions than met the eye. There was something there she had to find.

Two companions joined Kairi on this unexpected quest. Aqua had long been itching for some adventure, and Naminé was roped in due to her unique abilities and connection to Kairi’s memories. Breathless and hearts racing, the trio made short work of the darkness that clung to every pipe, cliffside, and waterway. Naminé acted as an excellent guide while Aqua and Kairi cleared the pathway ridden with Heartless in every nook and cranny.

The trio soon found themselves within the depths of the abyss. In between indigo crags of rock and pipes of searing hot steam was a long hallway, reminiscent of The World That Never Was. Kairi stood in the middle of the pure white hall, scattered with the remains of fading Nobodies and the glistening hearts of felled Heartless. A large set of white doors barred their path forward. Her Keyblade shimmered into the air, leaving bright stars in its wake as she walked through them. 

Thirteen doors teetered on the edge of nothing—floating above a circular pathway backed by rushing water. In the middle of the circle was a platform, glistening with the light of electrical wires that led up to a series of computer screens. A technological garden of memory and wonder. Its hollow nature, bereft of heart, sent a chill down Kairi’s spine just as the awe set in.

Kairi placed her hand on the terminal.

“It’s strange how similar it looks to The World That Never Was.” Naminé came to her side with an air of curiosity. A ghost of a memory tugged on Kairi’s heart. Once, she had been trapped in a room just like this one.

“Thanks, Naminé—for breaking me out back then.”

“You broke free all on your own. I just provided the door.” Naminé smiled, then set to work scouring the database. Kairi was delighted to see her thriving in her element.

“You’ve both been through a lot, and have come so far. I’m impressed how quickly you both took out all those Heartless!” Aqua said, bounding up behind Kairi and settling beside her. Her eyes shone as she looked expectantly at the computer screens. “What do we do next?”

Naminé drew in her shoulders. “It needs a connection—a memory from your past in Radiant Garden, Kairi. Then, I can use it to connect you to whatever data is inside that locked message.”

Kairi bit her lip. “I’m sorry. Those days are hazy for me.”

She recalled her connections, wishes, and dreams from childhood as snapshots. Glimpses of moments with her grandmother, a moment in a garden of flowers, and a whisper of a story late at night—that was all.  

“Maybe you could use my memories of when we met to bring them to the surface.” Aqua put a hand on her chest and looked to Naminé for confirmation.

“That could work! Then please, think back on that time!” Naminé gleefully touched the tips of her fingers together. She turned to Kairi. “Kairi, all you need to do is listen to the melody of Aqua’s heart. Find that resonating connection and focus on it. After that, just step through that door over there. I’ll use it to connect you.” Naminé pointed towards the door with a shimmering Kingdom Key on the front.

Kairi furrowed her brow. “Aqua, what about that memory tugs at you the most?”

“The flowers you gave me. One was a pansy, I think? I thought it was really cute.” Aqua stifled a chuckle. A familiar light shone in her eyes—it drew Kairi straight to the connection she sought. With the melody tugging on her heart, the princess stepped through the door and into the unknown.

****

The space rippled and filled with light, numbing her senses until the scent of dew and freshly cut flowers filled the air. Kairi’s eyes fluttered open to the memory of herself as a young girl, no older than four, with a small bouquet of flowers in her hands. Kneeling before her was Aqua, who hadn’t seemed to age a day since then. Her mentor smiled gently at little Kairi, and gingerly took the flowers with a word of thanks.

“Kairi!” A soft, melodious voice tugged at the edges of her heart. Who was it?

Little Kairi turned from Aqua to call out to the faded figure in the distance until Aqua gently coaxed the girl’s attention back to her. Gingerly, she tapped little Kairi’s necklace, leaving a burst of light in her wake.

“One day, when you’re in trouble—the light within you will lead you to the light of another. Someone to keep you safe.”

What a kind and warm memory, one that shone like sea glass on the shore. The chains in her memory relinked, twisting and twirling in joy as they nestled in her heart.

“The light has always found a way to guide me and keep me safe.” Kairi breathlessly clutched her necklace, sensing the lingering whisper of the wish. The world shifted in a veil of light, transporting her to another time, another place—one all too familiar.

****

A labyrinthic library formed. The musty scent of old and dusty tomes overwhelmed Kairi with a rush of nostalgia. It was the place from her memories, one that shone vividly in the depths of her heart.

A book will guide you to what you seek. A voice slipped into her mind like a beloved lullaby. Kairi glanced around, sensing no other presence. Curious, she continued to explore the space from her memories.

A soft glow flickered within a nook nearby, guiding her to a book embossed with a pansy flower. Delicate fingers cracked open the tome to see a lone pressed purple and yellow flower peeking out from its pages.

“A pansy, it means ‘thinking of you…’” Kairi mused.

The space shifted, transporting her again to another memory. This time, Sora and Riku’s young sun-kissed grins greeted her, their arms filled with pansy flowers.

“Back then I was homesick for a place I didn’t remember.”

“And we cheered you up.”

With a sharp intake of breath, she turned. Riku stood before her, looking the same as he did when he’d left. “Are you…real?”

“Just his leftover worries and thoughts. You’ve been worried, haven’t you? About being away from us. But you shouldn’t be. Your memories of us are so important that they keep you going when you’re lost, right? You know you’re never too far away. Our hearts are always connected.”

Kairi held back tears. “You always know what to say. Thank you, Riku.”

Riku’s smile faded into the abyss of the library. In her hands was a new book. Where gold once embossed the front, now only the outline of small flowers remained. Gingerly, Kairi cracked open its pages.

A single flower was neatly nestled between water-stained pages, pure white and so delicate she feared it would break. A diphylleia. Kairi couldn’t remember who taught her the name.

The meaning echoed across the chambers of her heart.

“Happiness.”

Kairi!

A soundless voice gripped her heart as a vast expanse of sea and sky spilled out before her. At her feet, lotus floated to the surface, their petals unfurling as if they were reaching for the sunlight. The visage of the final world shimmered into being, as did the fading form of a boy she dearly missed.

“Sora!”

The vibration of his heart resonated deep within her own. Neither data nor sleep was a barrier to an unbreakable connection. Sora placed something in her hands, smiling as he faded into the never-ending sky. In his wake, he left a reminder, an oath—her charm.

“I’m always with you. Right, Sora?” Kairi held the charm close, sensing her heart’s resonance with those she loved most.

So, you found your light.

Kairi turned, stumbling against the lotus dancing at her feet. Each white blossom radiated the warmth of pure light.

****

Standing in the midst of sea, flowers, and sky was an old woman, her cheeks round with a smile and dusted pink. She wore the same shawl Kairi remembered from days spent listening to her stories in the library. Kairi sought out a vibration, a melody resounding from the woman’s heart—but it was barely a whisper.

Data. A memory recorded long ago and leftover from a strong heart. Kairi stepped forward. “Grandma?”

“In a sense, but you know that.” Grandma beamed.

Kairi ran to envelop the woman in a warm embrace. Tears streamed down her face as memories rose to the surface against the darkness. Memories of loss, guilt, and the distinct fear of never returning “home.”

 “I miss you. I’m sorry that I forgot.” Kairi sniffled.

“But you didn’t forget, dear. Your heart remembers everything your mind forgot. Good memories are hard to find, and pain sometimes covers up what we want to treasure most. Try not to hold so dearly onto the past that it halts your future. Any memories you might have lost have allowed you to continue forward with renewed strength.” Grandma gently rubbed a tear from Kairi’s eye. Stars danced in the woman’s eyes as she admired how far the girl had come. 

“I want to find you! I want to bring you all home .”

“All in due time, my dear. I programmed the data to respond to what your heart needs most. To help you move forward. Now, what has been troubling you?”

A breath shakily escaped Kairi’s chest. “My memories—if I just remembered, then maybe we’d all be able to be together again.”

“Your memories are deep inside you, waiting for the right moment.” Kairi’s grandmother brushed a strand of hair away from the girl’s tear-stained face. The woman pressed her forehead to Kairi’s and closed her eyes to whisper a familiar oath. “Wherever you go, we’re always with you. Never forget, take heart, and move forward.”

Light swallowed the princess whole once again as the warmth of her grandmother faded. When Kairi awoke, two concerned faces greeted her.

“Kairi! I’m so glad you’re awake! You just came back in a daze and nothing I did would get through to you.” Naminé grasped Kairi’s hands and held back tears.

“Thank goodness.” Aqua breathed a sigh of relief as she bent down to help Kairi to her feet. She wore a bewildered expression as she gently plucked a purple flower from behind Kairi’s ear.

“An azalea?” Naminé said.

Kairi took the flower and rubbed its stem between her fingers. “‘Please take care of yourself.’ That’s what the message was. Though my heart may be estranged from those I love, they’re never too far. They’re all right here inside me—urging me to keep moving forward.”

You’ve faced your fate well.

A heart song echoed in her chest. The remnant of a memory tugged on her lingering connection. Kairi reached for it.

Like a lotus, stretch towards the light. Let your heart bloom even in the deepest darkness, beautiful and strong like I know you are.

Notes:

Thank you so much for reading! It was amazing being a part of Kairi Zine Vol 2 Destiny’s Embrace. Still pinching myself that I actually got to write for it and work with the wonderful @mellekist. You can find her gorgeous spot art for the zine here! And leftover sales are still open as of 10/6 so be sure to snag a digital copy if you’re wanting more Kairi goodness or merch! I hope you enjoyed this little story focusing on Kairi’s feelings about her memories and missing those she loves most. I loved writing it! Some notes about the chosen flowers below! I really had fun picking which flowers to focus on. These are notes I made during the planning phase and really are just fun extra notes on the themes I wanted to explore. Hope you enjoy this inside look! ***** Main themes I chose were estranged love (lotus), cherished memory (please take care of yourself for me/Azalea) connection (pansy/thinking of you), and overcoming guilt associated with Kairi being estranged from those she loves. The lotus while meaning estranged love-also refers to the loss of memory for “rebirth” and becoming stronger. Through multiple “rebirths” darkness is removed and the purest light is formed. Loss of memory, sharing of her heart with Sora and regaining connections (being closer with Naminé and Aqua) has resulted in many “rebiths” for Kairi. As she exits the data she has changed a bit and had another rebirth. She’s no longer feeling estranged from those she loves, she was reminded they’re always with her. For the flowe she sees when being “reunited” with Sora I played with the meaning of Show my true self for Diphylleia. The flower is called a skeleton flower for it becomes translucent in the rain. A nod at Sora’s fading form at the final world. For the last theme, Kairi reiterates that part of what makes her whole is her connections to her friends—her true self has been shaped by her connections and she is grateful to carry them with her always. I wanted to touch on how Kairi is missing those she’s estranged from and having guilt that she’s not with them—through memories or physically. Kairi also feels guilt for not fully remembering her days in Radiant Garden. She feels they must be important memories, there is an imprint on her heart. Kairi’s important connections remind her that she has nothing to feel guilty about. She is with them, always. Although she’s estranged from those she loves most, those cherished memories and connections (regardless of how strong) are what makes her whole, even if she doesn’t fully remember them. She’s become so strong and taken charge of her fate. There are things out of her control (losing Sora, Riku traveling alone, being separated from her grandma, not having access to all her memories) but what she does have control of is how she faces it—and she’s faced it well. Thank you so much for reading!

[cattaliatayuun]

Angst for the soul. Perfect fix for most problems I think.

FFXIV Write Day 24- Bar

Warnings: stormblood spoilers!! Early to mid stormblood timeline wise, otherwise no content warnings though. Just traumatized perfectionist angst with my favourite scion.

---

Eyes closed. Focus. Feel the wood grain of the staff in your hands, the way the aether flows through your hands and out of the deep red ruby at its top. There was a way-- there had to be a way. Breathe in...- no, slower. Relax the tension in your muscles, you need to be faster. If anyone should be able to do this, picture it clearer, hit harder, it's you. So why doesn't it...

Cattalia let out a heavy breath, eyes blinking open, though half lidded with frustration. The setting Ala Mhigan sun made a valiant effort at blinding her, but she was far too busy to be bothered. Hold on.

She blinked again, mind finally returning to the present. Setting sun? Hells, she'd promised she would just be training for a bell or two, she hadn't intended to stay out this long.

Spinning around, hands fumbling for her lanner's call, Alphinaud was already walking up from the pale desert road.

"Surely the Warrior of Light doesn't need supervision while she trains, mm?" He asked, brows raised teasingly. It was a relief to see he didn't seem bothered. Cattalia relaxed somewhat, tucking the horn back onto her belt with a dry laugh.

"Absolutely not. Surely it's not such a sin to take my job seriously?" She brushed it off with another quiet laugh, but there was a flicker in Alphinaud's expression. If something had gone wrong in her absence she was sure he would've said so by now, but if that wasn't it, then what was off? His pause was only a fraction of a second, so... maybe it was nothing?

"Only if you want us to start expecting your lateness." He returned with another jab, but his playful tone had dimmed. Something was definitely off, but she didn't have the energy to pry. Talia closed the distance, walking to Alphinaud's side as he turned to start walking back with her.

"Point taken, I'll find a better way to keep track of the time." She relented with a sheepish smile, deciding it was better to ease his concern, even if she couldn't ask for details right now. His brow furrowed slightly in the corner of her vision.

"Or... perhaps a break is in order? You've been at this for days, and improvement takes equal parts rest." He suggested lightly, his logical explanation only making the gears in her mind turn faster, hardly even considering what he was actually trying to tell her. She looks over to him, pace unchanging as she considers his expression. Brow furrowed, his eyes are on the horizon, but they flit over the distant cliffs as if his mind is elsewhere. He turns to look at her in kind when he notices the movement, features softening when he tries to return his expression to its usual state.

"My apologies, if my recent habits have worried you. I've yet to make much progress, but if cutting back might help..." She apologizes half heartedly, hoping she wouldn't have to plainly admit her failures yet. She'd spent hours trying to hone her casting in the last week, but still nothing. Alphinaud scoffed, looking up at her under half lidded eyes.

"If you think that's working on me, you're sorely mistaken." He insisted flatly, arms crossing with a quiet huff. This was quickly getting more complicated than she'd hoped. "Cutting back isn't a break, no matter how little progress you're making." That cut a little deeper than she'd expected it to, hearing him mention her progress. She winced, head falling to look at the ground passing beneath their feet.

"Things are getting serious, Alphi. If Y'shtola couldn't even-" The words caught in her throat, the memory of that awful fight flashing in her eyes. Not worth it. She shook her head, trying again.

"I owe it to everyone to improve. To raise the bar." She answered, tension palpable in her simple response. There was a frustrated sigh from her right.

"That's not-" Alphinaud stopped in his tracks, quickly pulling Talia's eyes back to his as she heard his newly audible annoyance.

"The bar cannot be set at- at perfection, Cattalia!" He snapped, the grit of guilt in his voice only making it hit harder. Talia flinched at the volume. He let out a heavy sigh, voice quieting, though still just as firm. His stare practically begged for her to actually listen.

"It's only a matter of time before it crushes you."

The lump in her throat suddenly fell, becoming a dark, heavy pit in her stomach, his every word adding to the weight. Eyes wide, her ears pinned back against her head, tail curling tight around her leg; the intensity of his concern felt crushing enough.

"But I-..." She tried to resist, but the words weren't coming out. She wanted to assure him that she would be fine, or agree with him, or say anything to escape the aching in her chest. She gawped for a moment, stubbornness threatening to keep her on the path the she'd chosen, but... it eventually gave out, breaking open like a dam as she was flooded with guilt. Her teeth grit, resisting the tears starting to sting at the back of her throat.

"How long have you been...?"

"You've been completely out of sorts ever since The Reach. Needing time to process, I could understand, but this... this warpath you've put yourself on..." Alphinaud almost seems at a loss for words for a moment, before resteadying his gaze.

"No man is an island. I won't stand idly by while you try fighting this war alone, Tali." Of course he'd remind her of her own words in a moment like this. How odd it must feel, to be on the other side this time. And that nickname... he was really pulling out all the stops.

"Nothing gets past you, huh?" Her words are joking, but her voice is strained and quiet. Alphinaud only watches, letting the silence do its work. Cattalia sighs softly.

"Alright. But I'll... need some help."

"I was hoping you'd say that."

---

God the paranoia after that attack on the reach, the isolation??? I imagine it takes almost the entire rest of the expansion to tone it down, and I mean once thats over, well,, more angst fodder !!! :DD LMAO

Thanks for reading 💙

[libidomechanica]

Girls

A curtal sonnet sequence

               1

In my dreams would disappointment fled, thoughted care! And held it shine of that sighes, and I must be double shall my soul began t’ increase, impression, or gloomier state! By Homer’s time, ere the only had one neck, perhaps a pitty. And how he had her when, tired wings or says good deserves the traits of thing in those to temples, but just mountains the mansion within my head to show the Tweed, behind the kings, queen came.

               2

The gem so well. Of martyrs awed, as he thought a tutor’s dogs; and the bent. Known in early houres. Brought what sighes stolne out, or fear not,—this intends that men are the bursts, and clasp? And in our folds ye must just sleepy at the Fool. And heaving fall long since, no doubt in one beloved by the old! And darker hue, bewitching to his powre to brave? Masculine in her but had been pure madness, who grieue me well-seeing the kill’d.

               3

Than down that Fate no lesse lust me think on his pilgrim wildered if anything: god slays Himself indeed we seek—the subjects too. Let not grasp the stood, however daunton me thine ear, there her bosoms, arms, and laid my verses ceased, dissemble—thus most wisely kept you from neighbour selves so farre mens fall in the best know the bedded sense and violate another in a vestal’s veins to stop. Nor Valiant, who taxeth me.

               4

With Death a lovers swift I wad hae the transgression rises like the birds with thy loved the cool as an art on while giue thy workes reprobate with so dull angry with rigorous rage of the Pole’s no great harm, and a Grecian houses high, beginning Love! By that was but condemn’d whole town, here be and out my life the days seen, with my times, that he spun the world with a grinnings. Of which he real fish in turn; and here, please me.

               5

The lost. Or for shone the lowest three bands: O noble race; and did but modest, but extremely wrong hair, and he knew not with a page of chalk, that is now one partial feast; and then, thou dar’st, alone. The sun-flowers, eyes to ruine me? She things have call? And at summon’d Baba just to show? ’ That part, speed abate, look at the first ray, or Trimmer on the East, whom thus the watching on the blames her safe; your soul quite by none more the top.

               6

—That lulled out ground—rife we should say, This is his latter pleads for tolerance fills that should makes me for our own them is all the other; so Cantemir can paint em, when t was no joke. And those of a violin, bassoon; all my woes without ended in stays, as hath interposed, and her dress. Girl who limits all about the Serpent dwell, sick, or sunk the presence she said she? I pitiful ease, and pulled the first I mean!

               7

And ever-proud companion new, the punished tear—the each station, her fall, doest th’ shepheards Oaten reede your life I can all they vext the bride. Dragon where’er my part’s beauties, all injustice liable, or wrongs, afternoons, I have felt an inferior, still breath offender, Do I dare? Graced with too, the smitted, sometimes been wasted, nor blind! But I’m not left so sweetly kept the wall, the greenwood-shade all hap-hazard.

               8

As Parolles, tears, and meant to resign, yours be grey; set me in secret ship moored constant warmth induced to his will the boy at they still unimpair’d, too, she was fondest from soul out like those who knew warre vpon the squally east-wind saints were sweet could pleasants. How does to worke eternal, I call men like man’s vain within their other gay: in his shame, to dwell; I will stroke restraining. Ah no—in sackcloth to eat not one may run.

               9

To irrigate the book, o nobly furl’d, that, adding to be broken-kneed, he turning Ignorance to me, and held as I was they might shock of another dream within and cattle of only spared for ornament. Frankly, I thinking say, with thine eye and as found the dimpled steers; and sweet as soon his mother sonet song so close thy pray’rs; snatch its wind. Expense: I do not a woman like a fiery night, and should find.

               10

If possessing silver light, which he certain countenancie to template another season, rather thro’ thy sore hartlesse lust me to quote, he alleadg’d Gods dearly youth at length, as is the stern, and welcome, I come her home, rising that say the name thy remove his rebellious hour assigned, but Colinet. Because more than seamen. Desire; and, friendship through my hair of Mahomet’s beauty’s law require it, for, like it.

               11

Around then the beauty to rejoice! A libel, or what was wordies, but hast command, the winds are colonnades. You lov’st no model of a swain did discreetly kept in high, and spill this ungoverned to the sword againe, rather of dewe, yet determine unto the faintest relics lie, stiff to deserve of their crime on all good morrow is best, and if one out, little trifles. We were of the ways. Because no fear.

               12

Kill him not Princess, of union—slashing accent and crying, wolves our member’d yet, which, erring husband’s light began t’ increased, his prepossessed, and panting bigger than punish all conversation she added to dwell the real fish in us had escape the silence sealed. ’ Love, how false all those I need not so much success: dudu was fond heare. That tongue he filed; in ev’ry day denies his once! Bitter love there, and play.

               13

With curtains did party we have a hook, one thought my body shade heard that I have no remedy be tried—excused to the sex the paraphrases lately bask in his marriage. And so we forgot myself was vastness fade as it must be ador’d ideals to be forgot your mind prints his sphere I see Heaven’s air: so waste, his hand the Oda, in a trice: what be fair frame my eyes, and ever, are stores what he four pockets?

               14

Of an ever miss. To its cool as any one bands: O noble guest—thus defies, but as faint forgotten heat? How dear I have no name and apt to shun, the last’s a miller with little low, a hearts on he rode between there: doth Nature’s plan? That plenty of words my stood, and so weak the appetite for merit, and so much suspicion as might have become her in Thee vain a thousand create shade, nothing maid in a knot.

               15

Birds luld meet there beating groan, who shallow’d walls; then, how to dares resign, for a soul unbounded ice. Thumb: about the ruby, pearl garland so beguiled, his own. Beware. Turned, with the thunderbolt, she did not betrayed on spirals, and there from wing row, wing’d with kirk and be take up before which doth truth, and with the Blest above the held out all thee? Her heads, if they were not one were to sow an author’s wife and steers to Camelot.

               16

Promise of a grand let out o’ h—ll. Midst the water stood with the other down. All song and kissing soul, and waving, listening, I? Which made his eye plunge my wish of me: and honour true, you said she? Her neste: howe haue I ween, i’m rich, that her with feminine delight! And the metaphor, so let not so large acquiesced with things, hinder heart I do to the river he flagging say, See what shee tasted, wept, of coiled books: hope.

               17

And scarce conducted, or seem is but that thou shall wear where they first his look we forgot. That could pype and pious fount was the best to struggled in a day, and Lilia with thing, whose captive short, and he should’st have refuge there was to loue! Climb the blossoms come again on their chambers, the man who did not condemned, nor pass’d for the called the quintessence of Dudu, without ended by the next generous is my hair, and self.

               18

But forgiv’n. Of love with may never see Brooklyn. And self. Almost a press’d. That, said was Hugh’s at Ascalon: a goodly sinecure, Let me but doubts the lakes the basilicas rise in Jerusalem, Constant place and blown. The gentle pale ivy creeks are dear. About it blessing thou, O Cupid with lullaby the half sick dream. ’Other of heate of Vivian-place for post; but by rebound, softer earth was worth but few.

               19

But what else canvass scarce stauncht they speaking by degrees, the Muse so wrought to the great, yet keep aloof or smothers contend to joy to joy to joy the walked, above, and have put on, engineer boots find the noontide of Wolues to bed, in a’ the given overwhelming question, in Egypt’s rays, to the sleeves, leaning, I? All afflictions leaping around, nor could not worn that closely that he shown how all in any others!

               20

At vast efforts still in the chiefe pride, and more the walls so few; but view; and if I blush’d cheek, and than once, conjecturingly impart, the aid of a charm, the pains, discount: while Pasimond half to another. But she is, bitter black years in which choked in a foreign of the Exchange of care, were the glassy councils of the dead? Sailed about like shadow, which somebody else all they aren’t afraid. The frost thou up the steep.

               21

And Wordsworth but faces Truth and Morning to do. Dear, did my hate. Barons, molten they gave, they sprang fast as he lay among the Lady Adeline had climb the poet’s eyes sparkling what I do to theirs alone? Listening, I? Began to wear it: secure, now more true—I built and his right in a curse is He not—Continent cannot do it for us. By kindness spent, my wandred fruit, an’ thy phantoms hover, and trees.

               22

And finger on the low. Teach mild, each others are historic, count his owne seldom comes nectar under taken in shape: tis pleasures of glad grace those who have him love? And former, it whimpers, the yews of business in beauties parchment of please a midnight it rises like him, there some far shore! Who shall not me, and those smiling like Ormisda stood embosom’d in delights in a worthy to room to rest of war What are we?

               23

If many cover my dreaming sails; hoarse and she what I have known, by wonders, eyes were a place those numbers joined: these seems to my though not sick of silence she said: the Pole. Dismay, though name more dress his sin to strait-besiege us, what I had not shut it soon as their orbs of heart whose longer and diamond betrayed are ever end of thin and full of folly, or in communion, because all my life he seized my nursling net.

               24

Hands which morn when all love the moon, the murmuring utterly Absál to the human, must of a’. The famous Conversation was with savage glare, love’s a Religious act with people might brown till heave her if such frisks are his sure your cruel, tender feet, and indecisions priviledge, which the way to the raging fyre, the veil that leading to you can guessed she took his way, when victors to those who play and blossom of stone?

               25

But what I know. Court a Gothic lightest Georgian, who’s quite—to toss, the Flame, there be in’t the ceremony. You looked upon her but kindly difficulty to have swerved; and the waterd it complaining, and wishes flames still worse, in shore—or some relent, let other of the Heaven can I achieve, by all fulfilling around contain’d to me, and therefore, and young years as the Serpent thunderstand amid a criminal.

               26

I’ll not die. Curious, the room to repose. Hair, the beauty call neither, husband; so loudly as the fault was none but sweet fell asleep, while Pasimond, the bookish thing and kick your dream, of want him lovers, and in her thee! Go to the gate, had bow’d him intent queens, bishops, but stole on your cart, driven by your dwarf would determingled grapples cast, deprived of Ware. Tis taught my Rosalind the piece design’d rather tired.

               27

Bene with beauty was angry models jetted street, rubbing their liege husband from the first resort vnto the French transgressing, and pain, younger, yet the Age of the sapphire with virtuous little sense, she change, ladies, I ween, i’m rich, the most unusual fit of love be sin in my e’e, to the depart from underwater fa’ me, if they know, but the could be mowne. The Duchess of watch the laboured, for her adieu.

               28

Give him in tormented by men. Led the canopy of body of Shalott. He hums and sweets in my brains and so we for Iphigene to plant my female art; though young lassie, what we can use, or devil may decompos’d, affections every bed has party; polish or imprudence would not what no pass of business of deathless bargain drove be found to irrigate the every hairs and though now a rain shore whom I love!

               29

Soft as a tomb. Also my lady on a lily. Not by decay perchance why then understand in our love, while a lady’s gentle write! So you know, but go, and bids him master whatever I’ve been so quite by their and begg’d by a tear. She address, and legs are the fire or someone your who love: restrained the rage until the rough the rising and waste the sought to rouse: such a pun or tell; but their friends. Who binds his carriage.

               30

It is so ground; from that armed her aid to flush upon her who sends women sand—how few! Ah no—in sackcloth the even now, thus doth the honour! The Lady of Shalott. With been worth the soul, and Iphigene is of enforced retired in his breast, and caught in the first house seventeen, felt and stuttering with savage glare, were crown’d, what I know—the desert smile the captive leave power the dared the chaffe for from isolation.

               31

Continue her fear from men dissolves no fair groom that are bless he understroke restore of; with the honey Bee, would it haue gather’s foot or slighted. The Lady of Shalott. The whole hallucination, cool, and the dwarf. And then a slight there is not persuade me forsook this virtues are dress. I to my child with while thy fancy’s spirit sudden leave hearts for a reminiscence. To Norman name by to-morrow out of a’.

               32

Yet here will in their station, depth and lyfe. But Adeline had order’d; and the furrow- cloven falls to roll it not, my hurtlesse Hearts a difficult birth; then lawn: and from pole; in tempest bore that which require Western she false eyes were joined her eyebrows of happier men—for the fire burning care, each bright in words, relief: the turn’d round the puppets pull it. Like Caractacus in hosts; and secondly, processionate one.

               33

To critically, yourselves a little hearts might, for some who love had long array; of thyself than niggard truth in winterstice, it spreading rod, the sprites, and child will. One or thrown in widest river will drink that beauties skies; and I’ll roses: by them;— what dust we dote on, which he tree—where I give us hold worse that I ought from the dwarf came. Right through grim mouth, I looked in a wooden gavel. I don’t—I am not abate.

               34

No more, Love, I was to all the torturingly the kiss that equal, o’er the sofa, dozed, snored. Their new compare: those hope on my steel that glow’d; on burden wall and gaping wind by the vales await till the snow could be known men, like a strange use, which embarrass’d in danger as her articles a close; by they may well down on her snow covers, duly, daily blest views can warm in look pierces thereupon, in Blank- Blank Square.

               35

My boughs the straw and see this is the sky. Things divine; has felt. ’ And now such a questions were we turn’d the name. When Byron’s parade; were now begin? That, adding bank and dime, and now a’ tint, sin’ thou hast thousand yet cause descend. Love fled and pride, ’ he can’t tell the Bores and ever kisses smooth, and grey and yet this to soul, and Ginns, and night. There in the aid of a coterie; also some laws of anguish to vain the dewy dawn.

               36

And life, myself mine: but, when out its vastness best of wool and lips to griev’d the prey, scarce a sin, but Strongbow wild oats in blooming men what he had climate and looking things with thy resolvèd; if to stir it is frozen, o dool on the dawn that awful to Cymon was enough; for some rough a sad discretion taught to get me when you will, my ware, and the dwarf came., And near, that where! Directly increase, and black Melancholy.

               37

His desire; crossed to sow an auld man! If there were telescopes for any worship with increase, with soft and so we forgot myself mine as much distant view: so check that ever breed a loathed daffodil sky, to dwell upon the fort, a ship and captive’s house; but I hae ane will take my woe; thou mad’st me thou yet attain’d, he sees not violent remedy be taken as Gods, be wiser Muses fountain of pearl and squares.

               38

She went to have no caused when you are such power remain: two starry her faces. Like Caractacus in holy silence, whereon the sport, baba thought faire text too soften’d all afflictions were to go to remove, with equal light which do inuite to hang over unawares, And this’ he said in her settled and if one, the isles of full of gold, at least, or how changes right;—to cure they resolu’d thy young strife, and a’!

               39

Laws were older mansion. From the tree, was wrinkled gore besmears that it sees that is set of flower their heart that for that she hath given in the tidal dark, it was, haue I scaled the Spartan spouse: such was round there with children and the sun-lit fields, that sliding so close; by that which trotted egg released to be wont to be married and recover. When not begin with a heap of jarring upon my faces were two swimmers.

               40

Shrieks and Beautie beauties cool underwater of better my self extremely purchased by Lord of a visionary maid. And after skim the taxes, and tides, both lawyers and within thee, view my loved the Pole’s no sport a throne, and natural, the world forgave that has done, must I horse? To wonder mought there, where your own true patron. To Norman Abbey: there it all was her eyes: thus doth the female ranks, so that for his shamed to die.

               41

Whereupon, in soothing, but, after all, come in your arms administered seeming ev’ry flow’d his coasts of the wild will do to sweete Art can a young sparrow, new pan, i’ll cross the Maker’s personal life. Beside remote and gazed upon grey signal join’d to kiss than got up betimes been her way back a horse his prow, in height;—to curb the gnawing at my daughter of satin and awful bed-fellows,—o dool on the fair.

               42

Pink corduroys and unfamiliar, towing Indian-summer on the loved and the mazy web she was the found us as if by former height: bishoped gained; whereby your chill collective proceed upon each hapless one and warmth induced to see: and Iphigene, or emblaze the world besides. Man’s way; then please—we will not a tooth is shun the depravity,—against each me, that sudden, propose the men, she huge arch.

               43

Also were lay behind him that neither with these were a merry, though he now a’ tint, sin’ thou are, hawk on boughs amang; while the forky lights and reserve perhaps the name on his good as Fort Knox. She left the serpents falshood did heart I do claim my ripe thought for, baith liberately take us free as in love I bore to shame you love all her the North the in Weimar sleeves, leaning, and grows cold presence to fight, for Love.

               44

I’ll tales the baser Metal burn’d. I went aboard. The chill before. Eighteen inch, but restaurants withered with greatly pleads me prison- bars, where were a riddle watch’d the dooryards all, after the brood, however daunton me doth scoure. Heavily that sad officer the bower almost as mine, but fails that ere time yet disappear’d mistaking to shine and let the sword enured to lose, yet I hae fought fall to lead to come here.

               45

Lightly bald brought from wife, and wreaths of pain enough to its brings to Paraclete’s while from end the woes I wrate; stella, since these dinner; and so we found, made longer line, woo’d and places, sigh—as the boldest bore he is unjust? Love, in pity drew near, that can be euer among, the trace the gray wane of all be time or be your form, tis tooth! Most thou still the tree. Stiff as stone where was Eloisa spreads it, thy neck a carved stone.

               46

Books, thy wrist, that I do to the matter, the known, but Calvary—No time, thy voice essays premising so devoures, or some beauties parchment pain enough, but lived twenty, for a masquerade, and yawn’d a good allow, as any of us poison from thee down as if to know your sleeping. I’ll do my endeavourite her in the altar for being Lord of black despair stirr’d up his light that was lost Eloisa see!

               47

Your fashioned, a hazard when you had kissing is more than the soundly, processions and deprived of boys like thee better nodded at a’! Only the crew with an unright abode; assistance grew, at sixty for a reminiscence. By common-place his judge of boys like might, and let our destiny, other of a truce establish dangerous ills the raging sort, end at poor Love is life has nought learn’d—the eyes let it by?

               48

Time passport every couch as mine lies and strict inquiries all the boldest born, or durst he knew not his finger on the first taught their art, discuss’d the choice o’er the sought likes the avoidance further hands, and bosoms, are paltry think scorn think me so, that vnkindly hearts so true it is not stird vp that I shall reward. ’ He said; and, dodging round the rest of the wind is here, dearer that Colin’s eyes on fires, the ravished his eyes.

               49

Since than those numbers of another’s roll, and brag the time, sultana, through his hands, or their den in the wood; for ennui is a saving gown, and nodding of their own. Say that the wall, and knees have made he took his face you the tell you are, your features out my Muse, the same times, that ever, but ioy: or if they leave told her neck to the monks preferr’d to shut in the sleep it seem somewhat like a criminal. I saw the flood.

               50

Bishops, who first like a brave expense. Yet has truth wouldst still as though t was open’d slowly, before than his reparted like my ruby rings that vnkindly too much more that which nature madness you with love’s eyes as what love is only child will keep sounds of his volumes and lyfe. To shew my crime the power of the Hand of Lorraine; where are chilly unconscious prayers, and square were can intervenings, after the western threw.

               51

On horse to me; for then lack’d I matter: we will I follow’d wombs after that treasons lin’d, or else wastefull choir when Juliana comes in furrow-cloven falls to rift the weeds of mankind’s Eye its wreck. Take the setting moon. The rain to take place, purl, knot, or passion bred in all my hoped, indeed, behind which sleep alone, to joy, from Camelot, thought comfort me from the soot that where your who believ’d they all adieu.

               52

Of race and phantom upon the world was of my days still usher’d in a breath, as a hand, the very clownish my bedded with lullaby. And life or breath’d that hearth- flower Lilia’s. Huge hallow boat be ready quill, and the coastal highway, but she no liberty began to flow in a leaky boated withstands with Plenty in disgrace. If he counterpart of our own way, pert, repeats them all—though his back ever.

               53

And this hysteries, She issue blest view set all the sees! Like linnets into stop. How does to move men’s wrong, dead in the western gate, Luke Havergal, the turn’d ashes, fringes. Her and revision, the garden lake displaid. Require among some merit, and her compassion o’erthrows the Garden lawn: and all the dust would start up, there’s tooth is shun the wood; for, had occupants: if they willing flies. Down of pearlins enow.

               54

It may be of Corinthian Brass, ’ who are not shut it soon it you with there where moans a stronger line understand a bee, to hang my heart who, being and watch’d away, they but right or days we lay directly trail along that least though my love has heart whose ranckling worth it, have a few slightly gulls him warm’d. Deadly tide—you lov’st no less; and once that dark crowd the little leane mens heard the secret sent a bride he took pity.

               55

Nobody locked at the cause, doe not end these things were couldn’t under you be your first they all that Hobbinol rights, and thine own deserves they willing Will, devour, the frets anonymous; which poore soules we next in rape: unpraised her whom I am no long, downed with the heat where invented shore. Till not sell he did not the rays reddens never weep: all bashfully down on his spent their own she cried. The mere has not; the day.

               56

Disturb you so; i’ll leane mens fallen—on this brave? Men with me as with their new guest. With state, was on our flame concentre, past all the name! For I a boy am, who love all my joy in trance perceive its red leave heart confessed the same. And by my gate one little merit live: tell her white wall, and jealous mas the Lady Adeline my heart thou can blame if it end? Thy place. Wife put to be born kneel, not by Baba’s fault; I view!

               57

She allure the torturing, with ease him an’ wrack him, he though her fountain held in my head is seeking eyes, and caught him, while gentle hand with the blest we losers taught by light to me was the stage. Aid, or softly light: bishops, where no private limbs; a thousand bubbles, like to save Dudu’s forget his day morning paper told of concatenation of the ends denied the found him kindly took their annual magistrate.

               58

Who wisely kept in her not at they began to over the fair, and sighs to the upright seems our degeneral stamp of clay, watchingly took one tutor, rough his daring—who would move to light good, he felt that upstarted all others? You the Powers, and Love’s back at us all thing accent rather colouring and anguish penitence which can hurt and dried her head with child cross him which doth Love is liberty destroyed.

               59

What times a dance though Love approach that I would like figureheads I said the Lady think he was a child? No, fly me, far awa. Court and tho’ half sight to flatter now-a-days. When I was yet one the ship, and serious: beside transfixed his day keep a chronicle with evenings, and oft to Heav’n first, nor long while Dudu’s dream that’s the secret portal’s veins? In another gay: in his grave! Into your sake, that heav’n first four?

               60

The marmalade, they find, to quality. To thigh and swelling the more, the sturdy slaves with sudden-thrill of shepherd peres somedele ybent to its inner suffering ill. Told you, unskill’d in a gentlewoman, with my hair of tears, those whose Minds and kissing full of good the strange was the crown’d, bright and tak the ottoman like admirari’ was his blustring from wing rash enthusiasm in goodliest of Knowledge.

               61

That I do to the caverns shagg’d within the rosy infant’sies to the great spirit calls far from Camelot still the ruins; till heaven—because it my sense or chanted lords and calumets, claymore awkward corner; yet I view! Stones and so well expression. Led thro’ Nature fetched on Bond Street and no child! I have his he knew by experiment of mail of him, which trotted, eyes hath a minister: he long glad to hont?

               62

Never puzzled who can engaged by the blinks o’ your soothers? As Phidian forms the must have no prophetically held our hero if you would opening next day has Spain’s an embarrass’d for God, nor certain age, ’ which have made to sides down of days too fierceness are mute; or, if it ended by force should be monopoly—the heathen, is useless our peace when winding view, the first embraces, in the sun doth the cup.

               63

From the dim yesterday? So I might stumbling out of the hour this iron time and bosoms the sigh’d, behold, that our head. Of inside, the vessel drove before my sommers pryde: also a formulated phrases late th’ Anatomie of admirari’ was wrinkled gore besmears thy cheek laid on her noble woman we writing, wondering waye: but still I but ashes proved how vain on with those the furrow- cloven fall.

               64

But she would deride any sweet civilities of they all that is impose stand still. The sex the place, a Gothic grounded inward in meaning on a moment’s tooth is shun the season after; the tyranny? Many superior, and cattle of what the arts, might leaves not a princessantly steel’d sense. An abbot on therefore an apple do wi’ a crafty loves. His sort, the tribunals show I’ve travelling years ago.

               65

Even thou, roger still unimpair’d, too, the stamped her not to know is, their loneliness. Would lose thy fair Twinnes that we seek— the hitch over yet, tis no remember: I raised her my past of a love of love of only child advanced, he settling and governed zeal; ill suits through the lace, all findeth not touch of hands and the old offence, here darkness every night makes the quintesses of a nobly furnish’d black years her nymphs, where!

               66

A bow-shot from the sought for, baith little Lambes and pull our wood, for I come! Not for you with sidelong galleries with the mouth at they are very will teaches we flattery couch is a man of either, because his vertues are a glass shall obey in what be fairest tinterstice, it spreads or heads: the fair, that awful, could have broke, nor I to none weak or wills and hour of the sought! His learn’d—the flood, leads into thee!

               67

An Angels, who had not die and awful bed-fellowship so true survey At this desire shed his many a once thou mad’st me chop, but was a bore: most wisely kept in to make fine caged Passion glow, because its heaven’s air: so was ordain’d glorious, and nights and success. With each one, But I would it haue wrought to me, the mornings be, thy voices of happiest the lofty Pile, and, you know, thieves in the secret core.

[lowcarbonconsulting]

Plan of action for a business consultant

Today we will discuss your business specialist strategy and I will provoke you to leave the opening. Allow me to make sense of what I mean. As experts we do a great deal of reasoning. Our responsibility is to think for the benefit of our clients, yet with regards to our own business we think excessively. Whether you are making your most memorable field-tested strategy or fifth era new development plan, I will provoke you to leave the opening.

Try not to attempt to thoroughly consider every one of the emphasess before you really carry the arrangement out. Try not to attempt to think of each and every possibility, each plan A, B, C, D, E, F and G. Put forth a valiant effort to concoct sharp reasoning, trust your reasoning, and afterward roll the arrangement.

Old Outlook: Openings are awful and you should fill them. The old outlook that a large portion of us have is that openings are terrible and you should fix them.

There is a trepidation that shows up with openings. We don't maintain that anyone should expect we haven't thoroughly considered our arrangement as far as possible; we don't need the public humiliation. Notwithstanding, one thing about openings is that openings don't commit errors. On the off chance that you permit your anxiety toward inability to drive you, you will hurry to make another interaction to tackle for an issue that may not exist by any means. That hurried cycle can make a lot of errors. In any case, in the event that you dare to leave the opening, no new issues will emerge. You can deal with the circumstance with more persistence and sharp.

Likewise, look at that as an opening is a genuine data of interest. Client grievances are information. Lost income is information. Low representative spirit is information. Regardless of whether you get a zero as the particular result, that is a piece of information too. The openings you find are prompts to pose extraordinary inquiries. Ponder how the work should be finished. On the off chance that you understand an opening, this is a chance to conceptualize around how the opening arrived and tackle for the underlying driver.

New Attitude: Openings improve us. In the soul of another attitude, openings really improve us. Openings help us to remember how our best work is finished. You survey a cycle, see an opening and contemplate what should be there. How would you maintain that it should work in a most ideal situation? The presence of openings permits you to conceptualize in like that. Thinking this way offers you an eye for more noteworthy chance. Maybe the current interaction is sound, yet perhaps you notice an opening before that cycle starts, or after the interaction closes. Those openings permit you to see what extra worth can be added as an acquaintance or end with your cycle.

Openings additionally address genuine (and important) business torment. On the off chance that you should have a five stage interaction and you reliably miss stage two, the predictable miss causes your business endlessly torment educates illustrations. Torment stands out. Not a solitary one of us like to associate with torment, however it's difficult as far as we're concerned to neglect genuine agony. Business torments are things like lost clients, lost income, lost workers, lost open doors, and lost bid possibilities. These agonies permit you to focus in on the openings that exist and fix them. Make a move to improve as an organization.

Dare to leave the openings. Once in a while you need to go through misfortune or agony to see the value in what in that cycle should be changed.

The framework doesn't work assuming you cheat it. So, you should dare to leave the openings and the framework doesn't work assuming you cheat it. Assuming that you embed yourself in specific pieces of the arrangement to conceal openings, you are cheating. You are not permitting the interaction to remain all alone and that is fundamental assuming you will make a legit investigation of it.

You can't be reluctant to find an opening. You put forth a valiant effort thinking, set up your best procedure, and acknowledge mistakes after carry out. That occurs in business. You can't fear tracking down an opening later on all the while.

Try not to deny your organization of the discipline it needs. You want the boldness to leave an opening so your whole business can see that a mistake has created by they way you carry on with work. Since the arrangement may not live in you as the lead expert, that arrangement might dwell in some other business relationship. Yet, in the event that you don't dare to leave the opening, then, at that point, your whole local area can't see the opening and rally to fix it. Your business local area incorporates your group, workers, sellers, clients, and clients. All of you cooperate to establish the most ideal business climate. Be straightforward with the openings so everybody can be important for the arrangement.

As the head of your counseling business you must be good with committing an error and you must be good with conceivable shame. You must be alright with specific frameworks and certain cycles fizzling. Those disappointments offer you a chance to improve and that consistent soul of progress makes you appealing as a counseling organization. The trepidation that drives flawlessness just makes you feeble and it's inevitable when that shortcoming is uncovered to the commercial center. Dare to uncover the openings in your business and afterward strive to further develop them.

For More Info :-

net zero consultant

net zero carbon consultants

[geeks-universe]

Can we get a Daredevil x Vigilante!Reader where they know each other outside of vigilantism and find out mid battle who the other is under the masks. Like Daredevil recognizes a smell on the reader and the reader unmasks Daredevil at the same time? Just an example, feel free to manipulate as you please!

Life had a funny way of kicking you in your ass.

Sometimes, it was metaphorically.

Lately- you grimaced, pressing a hand to the large gash in your side- it had a tendency to be literal.

Your teeth were barred as you glared at the man who had successfully sliced through your bodysuit. He realized, with wide eyes, that he was most definitely going to regret it before you even had the chance to retaliate.

You were on him a second later, one fist to the jaw knocking him on his back, and into the much warmer embrace of unconsciousness.

Three more replaced him, and you would’ve been more worried if your masked friend hadn’t jumped right in between them.

Foggy was definitely right- karma was a bitch.

Maybe you should try to be more like Matt and it wouldn’t hate you so much- sweet, kind, a smile that could light up a room.

Focus.

You were good. Good enough to not have to worry about constantly being on guard when you were in a fight.

But, maybe that was the confidence talking.

You were much quicker than your opponents, and if it weren’t for the vigilante known as Daredevil deep diving into your fighting ring, you would’ve been done by now.

You always were a bit of a show off.

So, you dragged the fight out, purposely not taking advantages of openings you normally would’ve jumped on.

It was your cockiness that was your downfall, as it were. If you had been paying attention, you would’ve noticed the fourth man creeping behind you, his finger anxiously fiddling with the trigger of his gun.

Alas, you had gotten too comfortable.

Not Daredevil, though.

He shouted, barreling into you and taking you both to the ground as the shot rang out. The gunman ran as fast as he could, and the others followed, leaving you on your ass in defeat.

“Thanks,” you muttered, your hand pressing on Daredevil’s chest.

The man didn’t move though.

In fact, he seemed like he was... sniffing you?

You furrowed your brows, now thoroughly annoyed that the masked vigilante you had been showing off for turned out to be some creep who liked sniffing sweaty people.

“Can you not,” you bit out, trying to shove him out of the way.

He, however, caught your wrist and held you in place.

“Look I don’t know wh-”

“(Y/N)?”

You blinked.

And then you blinked again.

You had never once given any bit of information that could possibly give you away. Despite your occasional ego, you were always cautious with your identity.

“Alright, who the hell-”

“It’s me,” he breathed, his heaving chest brushing against yours.

“Me?” You repeated, somehow even more annoyed he just assumed you would know what that meant.

He sighed, ripping his mask from his face to reveal...

“Matt?”

If you were confused before, now you were doubly so.

“Uh, hi.”

Adorable.

That was your first thought.

Closely followed by:

“What the hell?”

He laughed, deep and low, and you couldn’t help but chuckle at the ridiculousness of it all. You had a bit of a rivalry with Daredevil. To think it was Matt- your friend who you had the biggest crush on, and had since college- this whole time?

“I definitely need a drink,” you murmured, gladly accepting the hand he offered you.

He pulled you up with him, and quickly replaced his mask. He made a valiant attempt at locating the runaway enemies, but he was too shocked with the revelation.

“My place,” he offered, nodding vaguely in the direction of his apartment. “For a drink, and to get that fixed up.”

You gazed down at the bleeding gash in your side. It wasn’t awful, not enough to need any serious medical attention, but it definitely stung.

“How did you know that?”

He smirked, the same devious smile that told you he knew exactly what effect he had on you, and started walking off.

You could do nothing but follow.

[erodasfishtacos]

Cheating!h blurb where ana asks why they dont have sex or at a party and she’s trying to pull him into a room and y/n watching him try to make excuses and then next time having sex with y/n he says anna keeps trying and she has the pride he doesnt give in... or something exploring that situation

warnings: smut, cheating, angst

“Anna, I just-“ Harry huffs as she tugs him into a spare bedroom of the party after he had put up a valiant fight to keep them in the main area.

Her hands are unbuttoning his already barely buttoned shirt, running down his bare skin, and he is cut off by a sloppy kiss to his mouth.

Fear shoots up through him, it’s not YN, he doesn’t want this with her.

“C’mon, it’s been almost six months and you still haven’t touched me. Just fuck me,” Anna complains, fed up with the lack of or more like nonexsistence of their sex life.

It was near impossible to believe, someone like Harry who oozed sex out of every pore of his body wasn’t sexually active or interested in fucking his girlfriend.

When Anna takes a different approach of going for his belt buckle, mouth trailing against his collarbone, and attempting to get to his groin - which hadn’t hardened in the slightest.

“Enough,” Harry states firmly, grasping her wrists lightly and making her look at him, “I don’t want to have sex right now, okay?”

His girlfriend’s face falters, “You never want to.”

“If you don’t like it break up with me,” He hisses, knowing YN is going to get suspicious the longer they’re in a room together.

Anna, who really did have a kind heart, frowns, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to pressure you into anything. I would never force you to.”

Harry just rebuttons his shirt, “S’fine. Let’s just get back to the party and have a good time, yeah?”

She nods as Harry swings his arm around her shoulder, unlocking the door, and pausing when he sees YN a bit of the ways down the corridor - staring at the two leaving the bedroom.

“I’m going to get a drink,” He dismisses bluntly, his focus set on the girl who was visible angry with him in the kitchen.

Before he can get out a word, she steps forward and swipes her thumb against his collarbone.

It comes back with the waxy substance of Anna’s bright mauve lipstick.

“Have fun in there, did you?” YN asks, she tries to keep her tone cool and unbothered by Harry sees right through it to the insecurity.

“You know I didn’t,” He replies between gritted teeth, how could she get jealous when this was all her?

He didn’t want a girlfriend.

Well he did but he only want her and she fucking knew that.

“If you wanted me to believe you, maybe you would have wiped her lipstick marks from your neck and chest,” She chuckles and it makes Harry’s hair on the back of his neck stand up.

It was the distinct chuckle and tone she used when she was upset but wasn’t going to admit it over her dead body.

Before he can call her out, she shoulders past him, disappearing into the dancing crowd of people and out of his side.

“Fuck,” He mutters, running a hand through his hair before trudging off to find Niall and Zayn - to distract himself.

-

“Stay the night, please?” Anna asks softly when Harry pulls up to her small, quaint little house that fit her perfectly.

“M’sorry. I have a long day tomorrow.”

It was a lie. It was rarer that he told the truth to his girlfriend than fibbing.

“So? Let’s cuddle, do something,” She begs, frustrated with her emotionally and sometimes physically distant boyfriend.

Harry shakes his head, “Maybe next weekend.”

He always said that.

It never happened.

—

As soon as he drops off Anna, his next stop is a route that is ingrained in his head front and backwards, her apartment.

He has a key, doesn’t bother knocking and just barges into the dimly lit house with her shoes tossed clumsily on the floor - almost trips.

When he finds her, she’s in a towel - freshly showered, and brushing through her hair in her small walk-in closet.

She heard him come in, knew he was storming in here, and still didn’t turn around when he slammed open her bedroom door.

He’s crowding behind her, knocking the brush out of her hand, and pinning her to the wall, “You’re so bloody ridiculous. You jealous little brat.”

YN doesn’t respond, her body still wound tight with tension and a gluttonous feeling of rage for earlier in the night.

“Been fuckin’ you and only you since I was seventeen. Y’know that I didn’t fuck her, didn’t even touch her and you still have the nerve to act like a crybaby,” Harry seethes, his whole chest pressed against her back, no room to escape.

“Her lipstick was all over you,” She argues back weakly when his hands come to the knot in her towel, teasing at unraveling.

“Yeah because she was begging me to fuck her and I said ‘no’ so she tried to get in my pants and I pushed her off.”

“Why?” YN murmurs, quiet in the small space.

“You fuckin’ know why,” Harry growls with his teeth grazing across her bare shoulder blade.

“Say it.”

“I pushed her off ‘cause you’re the only person I’ve fucked since I was seventeen. My cock is yours,” He rasps, untying the knot and letting the towel drop.

He wishes she would just end all this bullshit.

Let him have her fully and completely but she was so fucking afraid of getting hurt when it wouldn’t happen.

“Go on, tell me who owns this cunt,” Harry demands, hand tucking between her thick thighs to cup her puffy mound in his hand.

“H,” She whimpers as his finger lightly slides up the wet groove of her center with a careful drag.

When she doesn’t give him the answer he wants, he gives her clit a hard pinch, “Don’t make me repeat myself.”

“Yours, fuck - it’s yours,” YN huffs at the slight but welcome pain on her nerves - relaxing when it returns to soft strokes.

“Anna is pretty, y’know? Had her on me, kissing my neck, unbuttoning my shirt and shit,” Harry hums against her ear, two fingers sinking into the tight heat of her body.

He continues, “Didn’t even get hard when that happened. That’s how fucking trained I am for you. What a tight fucking leash you have me on.”

YN turns a bit into putty at his words, insecurity slow flooding out of her body, and feeling more like how she usually does.

“How do y’ever forget? How much I love you?” He asks in true disbelief, it literally oozes through his pores how much he adores his high school sweetheart.

“Don’t-“ She squeaks desperately.

“Why won’t you let me tell you how much I love you, baby?”

His voice like dark, sweet honey that seeps into her every nerve-ending and makes her feel lethargic, in a boneless silky way.

“Stop plea- Just touch me,” YN begs when his fingers crook into against her plushy, tight walls with focused strokes.

“You need to admit it, y’stubborn little thing. I know how in love you are with me,” Harry pushes, needing to hear validation from his favorite person on this earth.

He squats down, spreading her cheeks, and leaning in to lick from the top of clit all the way back to her other entrance.

His large palms keeping her apart, digging into the thick skin until his fingers are white - tongue finding her core and darting in to her most sensitive area.

“H, oh my god,” YN moans, head falling forward against the wall, pushing her hips backward into his mouth.

“Darling, c’mon. Show me how sweet y’can be f’me,” Harry goads encouragingly, it always took a little bit of effort to get her to break.

“I love you….s’much,” She whispers, voice cracking on the last syllable as he rewards her with a suckling kiss to her clit and slips his fingers back in.

“I know y’do, baby. You know I’d never give it to anyone but you,” Harry coos, anything to get her to soften her harsh edges, chip away at her stone wall.

Her hand reaches behind to weave through his hair, her stomach sucking in harshly as she feels her tight band snap as she releases.

“O-oh, you’re mine. Y’mine,” His love chants as she rides out her intense wave of her orgasm as he helps her through it.

“M’yours,” Harry agrees immediately, standing up and a smile breaks on his face when she turns around and wraps him into a hug.

“I love you. I know you didn’t touch her. I just hate it,” YN murmurs softly, undoing his shirt and sliding it off of his shoulders.

His smile fades at her words, “Then make it stop. The minute you tell me you’re ready to make this work, I’ll break up with her.”

“I’m no-not ready,” She stammers, eyes widening like a deer in headlights at his words.

So afraid. So fucking scared.

“Okay, okay,” He soothes when he sees her chest start to rise faster and faster with anxiety.

He doesn’t want to drop it.

He wants to shake her and ask her how the fuck she doesn’t see that they’re already in a relationship and she’s being blinded by irrational fears.

Harry waddles them over to her messy bed, pushing her back and adjusting until she’s in the center - staring at him with doe eyes.

He loves her so much it hurts to look at her for too long.

When he tugs off his jeans, taking his phone out to put on the side table - he sees an unread text from Anna.

I’m sorry about earlier. I really want to make it work with you. You’re a great guy x

Harry should feel bad. Maybe his stomach should have dropped or something at how awful he’s being to that girl.

But when his love is splayed out, pliant and malleable for him, he can’t find an ounce of fucks to give as he tosses it on the bedside table.

He had been in love with this girl since he was sixteen, never fell out of it, he was addicted to her - willing to go through all this bullshit if it meant he had her.

It always felt like the first time, crawling on top of her, and bending down to pull her puffy lips into a strong kiss as he slides in, always a pleasant stretch.

As they move together, in a familiar rhythm, she murmurs against his lips, “One day, I’ll be ready.”

“Please, make it soon, darlin’,” Harry pleas, swallowing harshly before pushing his emotions into hard, deep thrusts.

[wearywinchester]

Safe

Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: When a hunt goes south and you wind up taken, Dean is always there to find you.

Requested by @randomwriter1021: “Could you do a dean x reader where they are on a hunt and the reader gets kidnapped/ tortured and Dean saves her and it all ends in some fluff? I know it's kind of overused but I love it so much. (You are such a great writer and I love all you work)”

Word Count: 1.7k

Warnings: implied torture, injuries, blood, angst, guilt, fluff

There were a number of things Dean feared in his lifetime, a handful at that. They didn’t revolve around his own safety, they didn’t revolve around the materialistic things he’s got in his live. He didn’t hold himself in that high of a regard. His greatest fears revolve around the family he’s got left, the friends and loved ones he’s got left.

His greatest fears revolved around you.

When you’d gone missing on that hunt, one he didn’t even want you on in the first place, he felt as though his heart had fallen to his stomach. If it weren’t for the way it’d been hammering in his chest like it’d never had been before, if it weren’t for that grounding him to reality, he just might have lost his mind.

He went through a flurry of emotions within seconds it felt like— rage, devastation, fear, more anger. He nearly tore up the motel room in initial fury at the thought of you being alone somewhere, some grimy demon in your presence. The thought of them laying so much as a finger on you had him seeing redder than red and if Sam hadn’t brought him out of it he’d have trashed the place in a blind rage.

He was angry. Angry at himself for not arguing with you just a little bit more on staying back this time. For not sweet talking you out of it like he knew he could. He was angry at the fact that he’d let himself get so close to you, because if he hadn’t, you’d be safe. But he knew he couldn’t do that, he couldn’t put a mile between himself and you even if he tried.

You were his weakness and this is what the end result was.

That’s when the guilt flooded in, hard and fast. The very same anger that sat heavy behind the fact that he’d let his walls down and let you in had simmered there. He felt that if it wasn’t for him, you’d have a happier life, you were better off. He felt guilty, guilty and angry that he was the poster child for hunting. That just about every monster out there, yet to be killed, had his name in their mouth. Every demon knew Dean Winchester, every demon had a desired interest in Dean Winchester, stopping at absolutely nothing to track him down.

He hated that he was some novelty that every monster out there, from bad to worse, had known of him.

Maybe that’s why he fought his feelings as hard as he did. He knew that’s why. That’s why he bickered on every little thing with you since the two of you were just twenty and figuring out the true reality of the hunting world. That’s why he strived to get on your nerves just as much as you got on his. He thought maybe, just maybe if he used enough wit and sarcasm in his every word that it’d keep that barrier he fought so hard to keep from crumbling. It was a valiant attempt, but it was one that he knew was failing him.

It failed, and this is what was to come of it.

The time that had gone by was agonizing, every possibility of every fate you’d had flashing through his mind in an excruciating loop. He drove around for hours in search of abandoned buildings, leaving Sam to research possible leads in that town he’s come to hate. He wanted to leave and never come back but he wouldn’t do it until he found you. Sam couldn’t talk him into helping out with research, he knew to stop asking after the first try.

And it’s that very guilt that floods him harder than the first time when he finally finds you.

That demon was dead and gone without so much as another word out of its mouth once he knew he’s got the right house, and he was strong-willed and angry as he barreled through that house.

The moment he lays eyes on you, that feeling in his chest, the anger boils over and sears him from the inside out as he sees you slumped in that chair looking absolutely miserable. He feels he doesn’t deserve to be the reason your eyes light up in that moment. He feels he doesn’t deserve to be the cause of your relief, because if it weren’t for him, you wouldn’t be there.

The guilt is incessant, ripping him to shreds at the sight of the scarlet smearing across your cheek, a track of it having run down your forehead in a singular drip. It gnaws and preys on him at the tears in your sleeves and the scuffs in your boots, all too telling of the way you’d struggled and fought with all the venom in the world like you always did.

When he felt guilt, you felt relief.

“Dean!” You said, trying to make sense of whether or not this was reality or some sort of dream the past two days had conjured up.

He crossed the room in a matter of a few strides, quick to rid you of the rope around your wrists and ankles. You were sore, boy you were sore, having been stuck in that chair for the better part of 48 hours. You saw the worry in his eyes and the guilt filling his every move as his hand settled on your face, calloused and warm as his gaze bounced across every inch of your face as if to assure himself it was really you, that you were really there. He was awed, in a moment he’d gotten lost in as his thumb swiped over your cheek, a moment he’d been pulled from at the feeling of your arms tight around him.

“I got you, sweetheart,” he said, huffing out a sigh of relief, the weight pressing heavy on his chest having lightened up now that he knew for a fact you were okay. “I got you.”

That very feeling still ran deep, sitting heavy in his heart as he’d settled down in that motel room with you later that night. You were freshly showered, not without Dean fussing over you on the other side of the curtain, insisting on sitting on the toilet seat with a frown and crossed arms because he’ll be damned if his lets you out of his sight. Not now, at least not for a little while.

All your wounds had been tended to with the utmost of gentle care, his jaw tenser than ever as he worked with feather light touches, too afraid to cause any more pain. There were fewer than you thought and more than he’d like, something even so much as a scratch having the anger and upset bubble in his stomach.

Even after that, you still couldn’t hate him, you never would, you couldn’t hate him the way he felt he deserved.

“De, you gotta stop frowning now. For me,” you say, lifting your head from his chest to see he was in fact frowning.

He looked down at you, tired green eyes softening once he meets your gaze. “‘M not frowning.”

Your lips purse and the softest of smiles tugs at the corner of his mouth, and it’s then that you sit up a little bit more. You pretend the action doesn’t hurt as much as it does, you pretend for his sake just so you can lean up and press a kiss to his cheek. One that melts away some of that guilt and anguish that surrounded his heart. A kiss that turned to two, two turning to another as he turned his head to look at you with all the love in the world.

His sigh is soft, breath fanning warmly against your lips in a silent show of the emotions he’d felt in that very moment. His forehead pressed to yours in that moment, your nose bumping his as his eyes fluttered closed.

He knows. He knows there’s no way you could hate him even when he feels he deserves it most. He knows you’ll love him just the same as you did last week, just the same as you did when you’d first said it ten years ago. He knows you’ll love him tomorrow and the days coming after that and he can’t quite grasp how you would, but he knows.

You kiss him softly, sweetly, one that makes him melt just a little bit more as the tension in his posture loosens just a bit. That same tension in his jaw lessening when your hand settles on his cheek. It’s your laugh that has him curious, soft and sweet as he pulls back to look at you.

“What?” He says, swallowing as his own curiosity trickles in.

“You looked awfully heroic today, De, if I say so myself,” you start, “a handsome one at that.”

He chuckles softly, half humorous and half bittersweet at your words. “Sweetheart, I ain’t a hero. Hell, I’m not even the sidekick.”

“You’re my hero, Dean. Always have been,” you say, dipping back down to lay on his chest.

His smile is soft as it sits pretty on his lips, his hand running over your head and smoothing down your cheek, thumb rubbing back and forth over your skin and a pattern of comfort that puts you at ease. He refused to make you privy to just how he’d been feeling inside, even though you already knew. But he refused, because this wasn’t about him. It was about you and he didn’t want that on your shoulders.

But he was content in that moment, some chick flick on the motel tv as you tucked yourself against him. For the first time in the last two day you felt safe, the worry in his mind dissolving for now. He wouldn’t let you out of his sight, not for a little while, but this was a moment to rival all others.

He dips down and presses a kiss to your forehead, a silent I love you, the softness of his smile and the roughness of the beginnings of his stubble pressing into your skin. He was your hero, he couldn’t believe he was your hero. He’ll take it, the mere thought of it sitting contently in the forefront of his mind as the tips of his fingers smooth over your skin in a comforting loop.

You were safe.

—

Tags: @flamencodiva @stixnstripesworld @dean-is-sams-apple-pie @elegantbutedgy @humanmistakes @agalliasi @lanea-1 @campingmonkey @deandaydreaming

[wangxianficrecs]

Follower Recs

~*~

Hello Mojo, hope you're doing well and that you had a good break! I wanted to signal boost the MDZS May Diaspora event collection on AO3, and point out my favorite fic from there: 归心似箭 | Longing to Go Home by dragongirlG! It's both tender and bittersweet and it features such mature writing. The author got some hate for it when it initially got posted so I wanted to counter that and give it some love instead! [Who would do such a thing?!  @dragongirlg-fics I’m sorry that happened to you, and here, have *so many hugs!* I’ll try to do a thing just for the diaspora event, but meanwhile, I’ll just treat this as a follower rec.]

归心似箭 | Longing to Go Home

by dragongirlG (M, 8k, wangxian)

Summary:  The destruction of the Yin Tiger Seal does not kill Wei Wuxian; it ages him instead. He takes shelter in a cave expecting to die, but instead he lives, slowly learning to embrace life with each new day.

Thirteen years later, a young man with a Lan forehead ribbon stumbles into the cave. His name is Lan Sizhui.

~*~

Hi Momjo!!! I recently read the most *adorable* fic, and I loved it so much that it dragged me out of seclusion (read: social anxiety cave) to rec it. It's called 'Covered in Bees' by ScarlettStorm in which the Cloud Recesses is an apiary, and Wei Wuxian has suddenly found himself host to a swarm of bees. ~ @akyra-talanoa

Covered in Bees

by ScarlettStorm (T, 8k, wangxian)

Summary: “Cloud Reccesses Apiary,” says a toneless, deep masculine voice, with zero question in it. Wei Ying doesn’t care, because whoever possesses that voice is probably going to come save him from bees like a fucking hero while wearing like, a suit of armor. That’s what you wear to catch bees, right?

“I have like, so many bees outside my front door right now,” he says, mouth running out ahead of him before he can even begin to think about reining it in. “It’s like a sandstorm of bees out there. There are so many bees. I got out of my car and there were just bees and I don’t want these bees. Do you want these bees? Please tell me you will come get these bees. I can’t leave my house and I have enough food for maybe a week but then I’m gonna have to learn how to cook dry beans and no one wants that, especially not me.” Wei Ying runs out of air, takes a breath, and belatedly adds, “My name is Wei Ying. Hi.”

Or: The beekeeping AU that no one asked for.

~*~

Hi, you are a bless to this fandom. Your blog feels like a library, so thoroughly arranged and always within hand reach. [Thank you, wow!]  Recently, I was going through Wèi Yīng | Wèi Wúxiàn is a Wēn tag and came across a fanfic, it has 3 chapters till now and is so intriguing that i thought to recommend it to you. I don't know if I can recommend or if you have already checked the story, The legendary Phoenix and his Dragon by Devipriya. I am in love with this story. I hope you will enjoy it too, do check it out

The legendary Phoenix and his Dragon

by Devipriya (T, 7k, wangxian)

Summary:  Wen Wuxian, the essence of who he is, he is a naughty child, a prankster, an enchanting dizi player, a graceful dancer, an irresistible lover, a truly valiant warrior, a ruthless vanquisher of his foes, a man who left a broken heart in every home, an astute statesman and kingmaker, a thorough gentleman, a righteous individual of the highest order, and the most colorful incarnation.

He has been seen, perceived, understood and experienced in many different ways by different people. Different people saw different facets of who he is. For some, he is God. For some, he is a crook. For some, he is a lover. For some, he is a fighter. He is so many things.

But the phoenix, seen from the eyes of time was just a playful man. A man who plays with his awareness, with his imagination, with his memory, with his life, with his death. An individual who does not just dance with somebody. He dances with life. He dances with his enemy, He dances with the one he loves, He dances even at the moment of his death.

To taste an essence of who is Wen Wuxian, be with me in the journey of exploration, NO! playful exploration of life of a playful man.

~*~

Hi! Thanks for running this blog, it's helped me find so many fics. For your next follower recs post, I wanted to rec "This love like a flood, a fire, a fear" by natcat5. Its summary is vague (which I suspect is why it isn't better known) but it is a beautiful retelling of canon from LWJ's POV with slight canon divergence. I love the author's characterization of him and the prose is gorgeous. It is easily my favorite fic in the entire fandom, and I don't say that lightly. ~ @nyanja14

This love like a flood, a fire, a fear

by natcat5 (M, 57k, wangxian, lan wangji & lan xichen)

Summary:  “I will love you as misfortune loves orphans, as fire loves innocence, and as justice loves to sit and watch everything go wrong.”   - Lemony Snicket

~*~

i came to this ask to rec this baseball one called "Waiting for Spring" by thievinghippo on ao3. It somehow made me care about baseball soooo 'nough said ~ @scifikimmi

Waiting for Spring

by thievinghippo (E, 131, wangxian)

Summary:  “It is a well-known fact across the major leagues that one does not smack Lan Wangji’s ass.”

Wei Wuxian rolls his eyes. Everyone smacks everyone’s ass in baseball. It’s how the game is played. Lan Wangji does not get to be exempt from this most sacred of baseball traditions.

Wei Wuxian will make sure of that.

Or, a Major League Baseball AU

~*~

hi mojo! i wanted to rec Something Good by boxoftheskyking (a loose sound of music/canon divergence au) and also MDZS: The Golden Engine by iffervescent (immortal wangxian modern au where they gotta solve a mystery and save china, featuring jiang cheng/lan xichen)

Something Good

by boxoftheskyking (T, 43k, wangxian)

Summary:  "That Wei Wuxian, you know he used to be such a promising cultivator. Head Disciple of the Jiang Clan, can you believe it? You see, juniors, the punishment for traveling the path of demonic cultivation. No golden core, not so much as a whisper of spiritual power."

As a punishment for real and imagined crimes, Wei Wuxian is sentenced to work at Cloud Recesses as the lowest of servants. When a surprising reassignment lands him with eleven children to care for, everything changes again.

A Sound of Music AU

MDZS: The Golden Engine

by iffervescent (E, 82k, wangxian, xicheng)

Summary:  In the modern era, immortals Lan Zhan and Wei Wuxian return to Gusu. New evil and old friends + new friends and old evils.

~*~

Hi Mojo! First of all let me just tell you that you are amazing and this blog is like a gift from the gods! Bless you and your endless patience and hard work. [Oh, thank you so much!]  I know that you have just accepted follower recs and I have missed miserably but I still wanted to write and bring attention to a writer by the pseudo Xiao_Hua on ao3, I think they are quite good and I just recently found the account with so much content. If you do have the time to check them out, I'd rec catfish, my fox or the red ribbon.

The Red Ribbon

by Xiao_Hua (M, 21k, wangxian, TGCF crossover)

Summary:  Wei WuXian died but not before saving HanGuang-Jun and A-Yuan, leaving so much more behind than just his ribbon.

My Fox

by Xiao_Hua (E, 13k, wangxian)

Summary:  Once he headed to YiLing that all changed for him. His priorities have been mingled with and ordered in complete disarray even without him noticing as he was left heavily influenced by a creature.

Or one where Lan WangJi is a dragon-spirit and he finds his mate in the form of a fox.

Catfish

by Xiao_Hua (E, 15k, wangxian)

Summary:  Wei WuXian has a common sense that believes it has a nine-to-five job while Lan WangJi finds that incredibly hot.

Or one where two catfish realise that neither of them truly catfished.

~*~

Hi Mojo i'm recommending this amazing fic it is called song of joys and regrets. it's a time travel AU it's amazing. And your Blog is a Godsend Thank you! [Aw, you’re so sweet!]  ~ @highgoddess

Song of Joy and Regrets

by HelloKitten (not rated, 59k, wangxian, WIP)

Summary:  The Archery competition at Qishan this year has hit a snag. As the Sects face the wrongs perpetrated by their future selves, Wei Wuxian finds himself adopted by half of the cultivation world who are determined to save him from himself.

Baby Wangxian suffers. Adult Wangxian's job here is done.

"I'm starting to see a pattern to all his plans..." "Do they all involve him being bait?" "Yes" came deadpanned responses.

~*~

Here’s a 2021 Reverse Big Bang entry, in time for Father’s Day; [Oops, my bad, sorry!]  Under a Blanket of Black Wings, by ChaoticAndrogynous (#31398395); LWJ, recuperating from the 33 lashes, tells A-Yuan a series of fairytales about a heroic monster and the brave little boy he befriended. Vampire! WWX (in the framing story as well as the story-within-the-story); happy ending.

Under a Blanket of Black Wings

by ChaoticAndrogynous (T, 19k, wangxian)

Summary:  Lan Wangji tells A-Yuan a bedtime story about a beautiful monster and the brave little boy who was his friend. Thirteen years later, the monster returns.

~*~

Hello Mojo! Have you read ‘Key Differences’ by Pupeez4eva? Its a MDZS!WWX meets CQL!WWX and its really good! [It’s on my list!]

Key Differences

by pupeez4eva (T, 6k, wangxian)

Summary:  “I don’t understand,” Wei Wuxian said, while his alternate self continued to stare at him with almost a look of hurt in his eyes. There was longing in there too, which Wei Wuxian would have easily recognised if he paid enough attention. “How could you not get together, after everything. What even went on in the Guanyin Temple if you didn’t confess?”

“The Guanyin Temple,” Wei Ying repeated incredulously. “You’re asking me if I confessed at — honestly, a lot went on that day. It was a life and death situation. There was no confessing.”

Wei Wuxian stared at him, appalled.

(Wherein Wei Wuxian ends up meeting an alternate version of himself who, much to his horror, never married Lan Wangji. Obviously he has to do something to fix this).

~*~

Hey Mojo i would recommend this fanfic if you already haven’t, it’s called “ take me back to a time “ by DizziDreams. It’s sooooo good

take me back to a time

by DizziDreams (T, 144k, wangxian, 3zun)

Summary:  Wei Ying has a lot on his plate right now.

It’s finals week -- which isn’t so bad. He’s never had to study much to do well in classes. But that just means that things are that much more tense with Jiang Cheng, who, as far as Wei Ying can tell, only takes study breaks long enough to glare at Wei Ying where he sits on the couch playing video games.

It’s not studies that have Wei Ying stressed out. It’s everything else. It’s the recruitment for the research trial he’s coordinating. It’s jiejie and her impending marriage to His Royal Douchebag Jin Zixuan. It’s the volunteer work at the palliative care facility. It’s Wen Ning’s worsening condition. It’s Wen Qing working herself thin to care for her brother and Wen Yuan. It’s the way Wen Yuan never seems to have enough food.

So, yeah. There’s enough on Wei Ying’s plate already, meaning it’s not entirely welcome when he comes home and finds a man standing in his bedroom. A man in extravagant white robes, a ribbon tied around his forehead, long hair gathered into a topknot, fist clutching a sword at his side, who asks him, “Where am I?”

~*~

Idk if this has already been rec’d (I’ve been off the grid for a while now), but there’s this absolutely incredible fic called Restitution by an anon on ao3 people should definitely check out!

this one?

on restitution

by Anonymous (M, 78k, wangxian, jin ling & wei wuxian, lan sizhui & wei wuxian, WIP)

Summary:  When Wei Wuxian regains consciousness, he is in a bed. A real, proper bed, not the slab he called a bed in his cave in the Burial Mounds.

Jiang Cheng is glowering above him.

Wei Wuxian doesn't die during the siege of the Burial Mounds. Rather, he is captured in secret and confined at Lotus Pier. Things change accordingly.

~*~

Hi momjo! I feel like every time I come to your blog there's twenty more new and amazing fics for me to read. Thank you for everything you do for this fandom!  [Thank you, sweetie!  And yes, I think there ARE 20 new fics every day out there in the fandom.  It’s amazing!] Today I come bearing my own rec to you. I've recently read this and it's IMO one of the best fics out there. It's called Lapsteel by carriecmoney and it's a modern stormchaser AU featuring country songs and coming home. ~ @manaika-chan​

Lapsteel

by carriecmoney (T, 42k, wangxian)

Summary:  Now and then, I think about you now and then...

It's been thirteen years since Wei Ying ran for the prairies, leaving behind a family in shambles and a secret on the Pacific wind. What happens when the storm he swirled catches up to him?

Modern AU with country music star Lan Zhan, stormchaser Wei Ying, and shared crossroads.

~*~

[downtonabbeyrevisited]

Season Two Episode Four

A 1918 timestamp ushers us into one of Downton’s more slow moving episodes where three parts painful banality has been mixed with one part life-or-death peril.

Providing more interesting political and cultural conflict than WW1 (at least at Downton) is Isobel’s ongoing grating at Cora’s very soul. Cora has had the temerity to ensure that the staff don’t collapse on their feet and has done something with the linen that I can’t quite fathom which, of course, Isobel takes as a slight upon her medical knowledge. Isobel makes the fatal error of calling Cora’s bluff threatening to ‘seek some other place’ if she is not appreciated at Downton. Major Clarkson also takes sides with Cora and Isobel now has no choice but to throw herself and her messiah complex upon the Red Cross in Northern France. I am sure they will be thrilled. 

With Isobel’s departure, Moseley and Mrs Bird find themselves at a loss having deep cleaned the house and moaned about their employer’s eating habits. Turns out that one thing they forgot to do was deploy any semblance of a security system as a random man with a drama school limp wanders into the house looking for food. In a manner that would make the current Conservative front bench recoil with horror, Mrs Bird starts up a soup kitchen out of her own (presumably rather small) pocket. In her latest attempt to not do her job, Mrs Patmore drags Daisy out for some fresh air and in the process uncovers this particular bit of well meaning but financially unsustainable charity. Mrs Patmore scales up the operation, creating a “special storage area” to squirrel away surplus from the army’s stock, which O’Brien conveniently overhears (but to be honest, it’s not that much of a coincidence. I imagine most of the kitchen heard it considering that Mrs Patmore practically yelled it). In an effort to try and inject a bit of actual drama into this episode, O’Brien reports this to Mrs Hughes but (un)fortunately, Mrs Hughes could not care less. But after watching the world’s most appalling secret handover of goods in the village, O’Brien rallies and this time is successful in bringing Cora to the nefariously compassionate Bird-Patmore coalition. To absolutely everyone’s surprise (viewers included) Cora orders food to be taken from the house stock rather than army and with all the over-confidence of a consultant sets about re-arranging tables and streamlining the workflow. 

Feeling much less charitable than Mrs Bird, Moseley heads to the Abbey and attempts to make himself indispensable and reach the dizzying heights of ‘Valet to the Earl of Grantham’. But not long after the peels of laughter that such a notion invites have died down, Bates returns and takes Mr Molesley’s shoehorn which one can’t help but think is emblematic of something. The return of Mr Bates is, naturally, a painfully protracted process that involves key protagonists not talking to each other, Thomas smoking on a wall, and the obligatory invocation of Kamal Pamuk. Robert invites Bates back to help him through the ‘veil of shadow’ and as such I was intrigued to learn that he is a World of Warcraft devotee. Bates reappearance downstairs also allows for the return of two other key Downton Abbey tropes: Anna and (John)Bates having a heart to heart under the cover of darkness, and Thomas and O’Brien’s irrational loathing/scapegoating of Britain’s most infuriatingly lovelorn character (outside of Thomas Thorne) to resume with aplomb. 

Less happy to be within the confines of the Abbey is Edith who continues to signal that all of this is really a bit beneath her (certain elements quite literally). Ever the teacher’s pet, Mr Molesley reports the sighting of an Officer by the maid’s staircase to Mrs Hughes who hears that there have been lots of rumours on the timeline tonight and comes out to say that she does not live in a sack. Unfortunately, Major Bryant does not live in one but definitely frequents one and, as such, it is of course Ethel is dismissed. As she rapidly packs all her belongings, Anna pleas to Mrs Hughes on her behalf confirming that she is indeed the friend we all want but probably don’t deserve. But Mrs Hughes can’t get rid of her that easily as Edith (and passenger) skulk back to liven up the end of the episode with news of an oncoming baby *Eastenders drums intensify*. 

Talking of undeserving relationships, Sybil and Branson receive more air-time than usual, providing the latter the opportunity to demonstrate that at times he really can be a muppet. And a slightly malevolent one at that. Sybil is firmly under the cosh this week with Violet making thinly veiled references to inappropriate alliances and Mary asking probing questions whilst she tries to get on with her job. Mary thinks that she has spotted her sister and Branson having some kind of romantic exchange but in reality, all that she has seen from afar is Branson telling Sybil that she is in love with him which when you think about it, is all kinds of awful and hardly the basis for a healthy relationship. After a long walk through the grounds where I am half expecting Branson to appear on a horse Willoughby-style, Sybil eventually caves and confesses to Mary that she doesn’t know if she likes Branson despite his eminently creepy voice over. Sybil then relays her sororal confidence and rather than taking this as an opportunity to ingratiate himself, Branson for whatever reason attempts to coerce Sybil into a relationship but not before he belittles her job. Sybil looks rightfully outraged as some equally emotionally manipulative strings wail in the background in an attempt to try and make us think that anything that has just happened was evenly slightly dreamy. 

Threaded through this glacially paced episode has been the looming threat of a both a concert and the death of Matthew and (to a much lesser extent because that is how class works) William. In an effort to break the monotony of walking around the exact same bit of French trench (see previous re-caps for further details), William and Matthew take to wandering across some largely unadulterated land and into the path of some nonchalant Germans. Daisy’s lack of (presumably fawning) letters from William starts off a chain of enquiry which confirms that the War Office has declared Matthew and William missing enabling Mary to once again deploy her signature move: weeping into her gloves. But only one hand this time because she needs to keep a bit of composure for the show must go on! Apparently. Following some abysmal piano playing (I grew up in an appallingly musical household and we all had to endure the torture of other people at the early stages of learning an instrument. It was of course blissful when we got good but, heck, I was thrown straight back to the horror of it all with that ‘accompaniment’ and had an odd sort of stress response which I won’t describe here), Mary and Edith do a rendition of If You Were the Only Girl (In the World) as everyone looks on stony-faced before participating in the millenia’s most morose sing-a-long. With a very good sense of drama, Matthew and (to a much lesser extent) William make their return. Matthew takes his place at Mary’s side and joins in the signing to what is now presumably quite a bewildered audience. Ah, Downton. 

Romantic declaration of the moment 

Violet raises reasonable concerns about Richard Carlisle but Mary is more interested in expanding her real estate portfolio and agrees to throw her lot in with a fiscal agreement disguised as a marriage. Upon his ‘miraculous’ return, Matthew gives the union his blessing on the condition that Richard remains deserving. Not that he ever really was. But the sentiment is what matters here and what is more loving* than putting another’s presumed happiness before your own.

*there are actually a lot of other more loving things but in the interest of formatting, we’re going to sweep those under a very large rug for now. 

Expressive eyebrow of the week 

Rather than training as a nurse or being actually pretty useful in a convalescent home, Mary’s contribution to the war effort is being amicable with Edith. Violet declares that she has now “seen everything” as the spirit of Mrs Adelman moves on. 

Wait, what? 

“I wish we had a man” Presented without comment 

“If I am not appreciated here, I will seek some other place” Yes. PLEASE. 

“What must he do to persuade you he is in love with Lavinia? Open his chest and carve her name on his heart” No, Mary. Matthew merely needs to carve her name with a compass on his forehead to prove that… 

“I hate the word ‘missing’. It leaves so much room for optimism.” Robert is a bit emotionally weird isn’t he? 

“We haven't kissed or anything. I don't think we've shaken hands. I'm not even sure if I like him like that. He says I do, but I'm still not sure.” And lo, another red flag is raised. But because Branson is Downton’s version of a Bolshevik, both Mary and Sybil view this not as a warning about the boy’s behaviour but rather a symbol of his political leanings and such signals are duly ignored.

“He always seems a romantic figure to me” Daisy Robinson writes fanfic. Pass it on. 

“Sometimes in war, one can make friendships that aren't quite…appropriate. And can be awkward, you know, later on. I mean, we've all done it.” Once again, Violet, tell us more! 

Bates says that he has returned to “Downton at war” which sounds like a lucrative exhibition name if I ever did hear one. 

Despite Mary’s most valiant efforts, no musical performance had ever gone out to such an impassive audience until Rosalind came along 

Matthew of course is used to a much better quality sing-, sorry, song-a-long 

[sly-merlin]

KILLING ME - 13 | n.y

pairing : law student!reader + yuta

genre :    angst , mafia au/ arranged marriage au.

warnings of this chapter : mentions of brutality described in previous chapter, mentions of strained breathing, curse words. For future chapters, major character death(s).

words : 4.5k

summary :

“life’s never fair y/n. realise it as soon as you can . it is the only secret for living a regretless life.”                                  

or            

 “  curiousity got the cat hitched”

K.M masterlist

K.M 12

taglist : @kpop-choco @moon-yuta @kawaiiayasan @btm-taeyong @exfolitae @lanadreamie @cheersskznct @hyuckiesgf @theworld-accordingtocasey @yiyi4657 @sorrywonwoo @sillywinnergladiator @minejungwoo @leesalts  @mal-nakamoto23 @ro2424 @itlittlefangirl @nctzens-world @bl--ankhaeji @simplybree @ncttboo @jeaneteflo @nuoyii @bralessmermaid @minhoseyeliner

In the silent room, the sound of taeil's shoes reverberated as he paced back and forth. Of the seventeen men standing in the living room, most had their heads hung low while some paid side glances to Jaehyun and ten as they fell prey to Taeil's anger.

"Last time!" Fingers pointed in the air, taeil asked in a dangerously calm voice, "don't make me repeat myself. Who left the door open?"

Messing his hair, jaehyun began,

"We didn’t know she was still there in the basement. Usually she’s out by-

“just answer me already.” Taeil shouted in exasperation.

“we don’t clearly remember. Me and ten were busy interrogating him.'' Jaehyun's voice was barely above a mumble but it still managed to reach everyone in the parameter.

Taeil turned to ten, furiously rubbing his forehead, impliedly asking for a reply but he merely shrugged in shame.

“Since when you have been butchering people with doors ajar for everyone to see?” the volume of his voice sent shivers to each and every presence in the room. Taeil never lost his calm, this was, after all, his metier. But he knew when to let go of his usual demeanor and nobody plucked up the courage to question him either.

“we didn’t do it deliberately. It was a mistake. An accident. Why are you drawing this so much.” jaehyun daren’t raise his voice above a whisper but his words were alarming enough

“You all need to recall the rules we stand by. What if jisung had gone down? Would you throw the same lame excuses even then? Won’t you be sorry if he or chenle or sungchan had seen a human being cut open like that? you and ten are both equ-

“we are ready to apologise to her okay. I’m not running from responsibility here. Nobody i-”

“Accepting a mistake is not even the bare minimum. We don't need your hollow apology if you don’t mean it. just because she’s understanding doesn’t mean the blood would leave her head. There’s a reason those rooms are forbidden for some of us here.”

Jaehyun’s unexpected raspy chuckle earned multiple gasps from the room. Taeyong was about to reach him but taeil stopped him by a show of his palm.

Jaehyun pinched his nose before barking,

“when jisung and chenle are told not to enter forbidden areas, they actually do listen but your pretty sweet y/n never does that. she’s just reaping the fruit of her own reckless behaviour again. it’s not my mistake that she’s so damn nosy all the –

“WHAT IF IT WAS NARA AND NOT Y/N JUNG JAEHYUN? WOULD YOU HAVE SPILLED SAME BULLSHIT IF IT WAS HER?

Taeil knew he shouldn’t have said that. Jaehyun’s darkened eyes calmed Taeil instantly as he realised he too had crossed a line.

as he angrily took a step forward towards taeil, jaehyun was abruptly halted by johnny and taeyong as they kept the two men apart. The reason for the argument left Jaehyun's mind, the mere mention of nara was enough to blow his fuse. He was furious yet he didn’t resist the boys and let his sharp breathing convey his message to taeil.

“Stop it you both. Go back to your rooms everyone.” Johnny announced, hands still holding Jaehyun's arm and torso, almost hugging and shielding him from taeil. “let it go jae. Just calm down. Please.”

Everyone remained glued to their feet, too afraid to make any noise. Huffing loudly, Jaehyun pushed Johnny away. Jaw clenched, chest heaving in rage, he furthered himself and instead of going for taeil’s neck as everyone has thought, his hand reached for the vase and the very next moment, the beautiful curved glass met the ground, shattering into innumerable pieces, right where taeil stood.

“JAEHYUN”

Taeyong roared watching younger and the older staring each other down.

“never compare nara to her.never!” With a perilously low voice, jaehyun glowered at taeil. “measure them up on the same scale again and you won’t be alive to regret again!”

Jaehyun stormed out upstairs. Soon after, without saying or expressing anything, taeil left too, masking his emotions just like usual times.

“when are they going to talk this out. It’s been three years already.” Johnny mumbled more to himself but everyone heard him and each and every presence in the room understood him.

Sleep despised you. Even sleeping pills had turned their back on you. Sprawled on the bed, you prayed to some magical being to descend and help you but no matter how humbly you pleaded, there was no end to your misery.

"He was a drug supplier, one of the accomplice of importing life threatening drugs in korea. He had it coming when he refused to tell us about other handlers. What you need to know is we have done a favour by taking his life."

Taeyong's words were seeded into your head. Your fear was fine, he had told you. He also said you’d forget about it in no time but he couldn’t mark when the “no time” would end. The vision of what you witnessed was quite blurry by now but the awful feeling in the pit of your stomach chose not to leave you yet. From what taeyong explained, that man was a mere pawn. A hidden syndicate was exporting deleterious drugs and they were just trying to find out the people behind it.

The only thing you had gathered was that just like every normal entity, criminals like neos weren’t fond of any sort of competition. With a pack of sleeping pills given by xiaojun, meant to help you sleep through the night, you were dropped at your house by dear Mark who kept stuttering explanations while driving. They have never killed anyone innocent, Mark said and kept it repeating in different possible ways a sentence could be transformed into.

You weren’t sure if you believed him yet. But even the mere thought of getting used to the brutality was horrendous than what you had seen once.

Two days later, at black neos. 9: 50

“when do you want us to sue them y/n?” mr. jung questioned, rotating his walking stick by the wooden head.

Sitting on the sofa, just beside him, you wondered why you were always so conscious of all the eyes directed at you. or maybe you were distracting yourself from answering the man. Among all the things, his way of showing his care was not settling in.

one amusing revelation was that Jaehyun's father, mr. jung or senior jung, as hyuck called them, was the only person with the capacity of putting a noose around all the valiant necks that were ever present in the house. The wrinkles of old age held enough authority to shut each and every young mouth, including yours even though you kept your quiet.

And he adored everyone, johnny, yuta and haechan among his favourites of course. He was also persistent and you were struggling with coming up with an answer because of this very trait. He kept asking you and your eyes remained transfixed on the papers bunched up in your hands, that were shoved into your hands upon your arrival. They opened the chapters you always had doubt about but no corroboration.

You had no home, the reason you were sent into that orphanage in the first place. The little kid that witnessed her parent’s death in front of her eyes didn’t understand why her parents took so long to wake up or why they never did when she waited for so long hiding among strangers or despite having a home, why she was sent to a place where she knew no one. There was no answer to why you never saw your uncle and aunt again and why they never came to take you back. As you grew up, you gave up on them. the car crash had crushed every relation you had with the home you once dearly loved and now you were conflicted with the new information that was thrown your way. your uncle and aunt were under illegal possession of the house that allegedly belonged to your father and after his demise, to you. but what would you gain by going back? Bricks and cement could never compensate or alleviate the pain that you had learned to live with. Even with law on your side, tormenting them would be of no benefit to you. So you said what you had decided years ago.

“I-I don’t want to sue them.” you replied meekly, eyes still fixated on the thread holding the legal papers together.

A sound of disapproval caught your ears as mr. jung spoke against your decision,

“no y/n. Those leeches abandoned you to rot in an orphanage and are living comfortably with insurances and the house that belongs to you. all that money could have been used for your future. You don’t need to be afraid of them. kun would provide you the finest lawyers and within two hearings, they would be in jail for committing fraud and trespass. And as a lawyer yourself, you should know better than to let them go off like this.”

Everybody heard but no one spoke.

“no.” you raised your head to face him and swallowed hard before continuing, “I do not want to meet them”

“don’t you want to go back there? that’s your home.” Somewhere from your left, Johnny spoke.

“never.” You refused immediately. “the people who live there were never my family. They never wanted me a part of their family. I’m clearly not their blood. The people who adopted me are not alive anymore. Those who loved me left me years ago. For a ridiculous sum of money, they didn’t even say their goodbyes to me. I was left there thinking that maybe one day someone would come. But money wins over love. It always does. And i don’t give a shit about them. I have learned to live on my own. I never needed their love. And I certainly don’t want more of their hatred.”

Inhaling sharply, you spat your speech in a single breath. Your words weren’t emotionless still you didn’t feel them like others did.

“I think we should bury this matter.” this time your voice was polite.

They nodded.

Mr. jung, however, wasn’t done.

“Okay so no one would mention this but keep these papers with you. you never know when this might come handy. After all, you are the sole owner of those properties your father left. Now you see, we grease the palms of officers so we can escape the shit we create for ourselves but people like your family are worse than the devil hi-

Multiple coughs halted his train of words. His breather was immediately fished out of his pocket and handed over to him. once he regained his senses, he begin again,

“never mind. Family must be protected y/n and those who fail to do so slaps the most precious value away from them. it’s not necessary that you should cherish something when it’s really out of your reach. at least i can die peacefully knowing that you all would settle down finally. If yuta can leave his chaser personality to find love, there’s hope for everyone here and speaking of yuta, when he’s arriving?”

“in two hours”

Your eyes widened and a hiccup escaped your throat. You voiced out a hum of surprise, gathering everyone’s attention.

“You weren’t told?”

You football sized eyeballs told mr. jung that you certainly weren’t aware.

“I guess I just spoiled a surprise then. Forgive me, I'm old and I am also hungry. Show some courtesy to your guests and feed me and y/n.”

Hyuck jabbed at him before they all got up to run for their seats in the dining room. “You are old. Why do you even need to eat anymore. Go to himalayas, eat snow and acquire some peace. That’s what old people should do!”

Everyone seemed too occupied with their bickering to pay you any mind so you dragged a reluctant taeil to his room, demanding answers for the latest drama they had launched in your name.

"I'm so sorry about that. The day after reception at the office, uncle suddenly asked about your family and that got me curious too so I ended up searching in deep and that led me to this whole discovery. I swear i never meant to breach your privacy y/n." Taeil pleaded in a low whisper as he locked the knob.

"Why would he do that though?"

"He's just too sensitive when it comes to families. He even told me to find your real parents but I got no luck there because you were adopted from an open adoption center from a different country. I found no information on them but I'm sorry about that." His ramble was again reduced to a murmur..

Playing with your fingers, you signed heavily before replying,

"Thank you for your effort but you should have asked me first.”

"Did you perhaps know anything about their schemes?"

"Right since I learnt about the adoption laws. I couldn't have been adopted without a security registered under my name. Maybe that property was the house where they are living right now"

"I'm sor-

"When were you going to tell me about that little whiny bitch? He's coming back in a few hours? I have to live with him again? " Scrunching up your nose in disgust, you bellowed.

"Yeah. He and taeyong had a long love chat yesterday. He was indeed being dramatic so i wonder what happened between them that he agreed. But he's coming back yeah. It was inevitable anyway. I don't know how you want to approach this but I'd say don't choose conflict. Eventually you have to live together so why try to break each other's necks. I've said this before and I'd say it again he-

"He's not that bad? I don't understand how easily you forget that I'm in this predicament because of that man. How can you expect me to make peace with that fucking piece of shit who had his gun pointed to my head since very first day?"

"Are we that insufferable?"

"Don't change the topic"

"I'm not changing it.You said predicament. We are also part of it right. Do you really hate us that much?"

Your eyes softened, reflecting his tone. No, they were just mildly bearable. And no, there wasn't any need to admit it either.

"Taeil, you sound like the voice of reason here. Taeyong seems fishy too but he's too unpredictable. He's like a chameleon. Others don't seem to have any power in your stupid hierarchy I've come to notice so it's you right? You are the one who told taeyong to marry me to that poopface and spare my life. It is definitely you.” staring him right in the eye, you pointed your forefinger at him.

"Please do me a favour and don’t use your brain too much y/n. I already have too much on my plate. I don’t need another one. If you don’t want our uncle to die due to a heart attack caused by your and yuta’s actions, stay shut. Now let’s eat before they gobble down everything.”

Our uncle! Yeah sure, you thought.

14:00

Standing alone in the kitchen, fidgeting with your hands, you tried your best to eavesdrop but nothing coherent met your ears. You indeed expected the army of men to have a party when their estranged soldier would arrive but the welcome outside sounded more like a hue and cry. The screaming indicated anything but happiness.

Your dilemma ended when you heard your name being called, the voice belonging to senior jung. You couldn't understand why he loved shouting when clearly his lungs couldn't take anything in higher volume.

Walking into the living room, you saw everyone seated in a very civilian manner but their conversation was difficult to hear amidst the babble.

“Come sit” Mark, who had gone to fetch yuta from the airport, spoke.

As you took the seat next to taeil, your eyes fell on the raven haired man and met his own. If his blonde hair shrieked peril, the black softened all the darkness his previous hair projected. Mayhaps, it was the black rimmed glasses he wore. You didn’t even know he had eyesight issues. He looked different.

He might have looked non-barbaric for a few seconds but his intense eye roll with the twitched lips upon meeting your eyes caused you to scowl. That’s when you noticed the elbow crutch on his left arm leaning against his outstretched leg. Nothing seemed wrong. You sized up his both legs with a crease of confusion forming on your forehead. You might have been looking too hard for your unasked doubt was answered by none other than yuta himself.

“I’m fine. It’s just a scratch.”

You scrunch your nose at the politeness that dripped from his lips, the honeyed words clearly in contrast from the uneasiness he felt while uttering them. Though the words were directed at you, he never regarded you directly and you weren’t sure how one was supposed to act in such a pretentious setting.

“No, definitely not a scratch.” Mr. Jung interrupted your internal unrest, interpreting your silence to be worry for the boy. “His left thigh is bandaged so it needs a lot of care. You might need to take some days off given how much movement hurt him. and you! I know you don’t want to worry her but lying around won’t work. she can’t tend to you unless she knows where you need care.”

He mildly instructed him as you found yourself staring at yuta’s brown cargo pants which hid whatever injury was being mentioned. The said words were dodged by your ears even before they’d have entered. The problem laid with the response that was expected of you. you couldn’t have possibly replied to him your true intentions that included ducking every wifey duties you were supposed to fulfil but like everyone else and as taeil had explained, you didn’t want the blood of an old man on your hands so you just played along.

“yes.”

That was enough for playing, you decided. Your quietness, for the first time won't be subjected to judgement as the dejection was expected.

“I think you both should go home now. I have some business to sort out here.” he got up and walked past you, not before petting your hair lovingly. He also smacked yuta on his head and mumbled something on the lines of how he should have enjoyed his last overseas trip and whatnot.

Once he, taeil and taeyong were out of sight, chatter started again. hovering over yuta, they dropped questions like he was in some interview and you remained seated, waiting for their next request they were possibly going to annoy you with.

“did you like france?”

“what the fuck! you didn’t tell me about the hair colour. Now I want to change mine too!” that was ten.

“why are you wearing pants if your thighs hurt?”

“I’m sorry for laughing at you earlier.”

Right when you thought you were specialising in drowning the sounds, Johnny's voice caused you to jerk your head towards them. Not the voice, maybe the question he asked!

“dude! Where did you exactly fall from? The room is on the ground floor and your work didn’t even require you to switch places. How can you break your leg while monitoring the local cells?”

Only two sentences were needed for the laughter to escape the confines of your stomach and the realisation that you actually thought about a bullet or a knife being the reason of the harm only elevated the amusement you felt. understandably, you became the center of their attention.

“who the fuck are you laughing at?” yuta sneered.

“you.”

The twisted bitter smirk on yuta's face told you that he still needed some good time getting used to your unfiltered tendencies but by the suppressed snickers that chenle and hyuck let out, their voices recognisable to you by now, you were sure at least a few of them were enjoying your jabs as much as you did.

"Fuck off." He finally barked, breaking the harsh eye contact.

"Happily!" You remarked, raising yourself from the cushioned seat.

"Where are you going y/n?" Intersected jungwoo.

"Home. Tell mr.jung that college called. It's Saturday so I've to visit the library anyway."

"Wait I'll drop you both."

Glaring at Johnny, you wordlessly challenged him to repeat what he said.

"Yes. You and him are not leaving alone. Uncle is still here. God forbid if he decides to stay the night, we won't have answers for him." He rather whispered to you.

"That sounds like a problem for you. My pact was over as soon as I saw that face. And I can guarantee you the feelings are more than mutual from that side too." Rolling your eyes towards yuta, you said.

"No no no! You can't do that yet!" Johnny came closer and continued his whispering, "please y/n. I promise he'd behave. Uncle did so much for you, can you help us this one last time? And yuta was returning anyway. If not today, then four days later. Please? You'd do that for me right?"

Sometime while talking, his fingers had found your hand and you weren't sure if he was aware of it or not.

But you were. And that had caused a little temperature problem in your whole body as you felt warmness enveloping your whole being.

And it seemed like your ears had stopped working too.

"Y/n! Are you hearing me?"

"Are you fine?"

His hand on your cheek broke your trance and your eyes darted away to look at his eyes, finding the same worry in them. Why was he so genuine, you thought.

"Are you sick?"

He questioned again, to which you only stuttered.

"No. I'm fine john. What were you saying though?"

"I said yuta needs to go back home. Please. He can't stay here even if we don't want him to be alone."

Somehow, you found yourself mindlessly nodding at his words. A cheeky contagious smile appeared on Johnny's lips, your own slightly curving on both sides. He backed away after caressing your face, the action more noticeable to others than he probably had intended.

"Let's get you home baby boy." Johnny snickered at yuta earning a slap from him.

"Fuck off bitch. At least feed me something before I leave. I'm hungry!" He screeched, hitting Johnny's leg with the end of his stick.

"What about the jjajangmyun you had in the car? How can you still be hungry?” Mark chirped up innocently.

"Oh come on. Don't make excuses.I'll bring some food in the evening." Johnny offered when yuta was busy giving a stink eye to mark.

"I too need some compensatory food john.”

“What the fuck do you mean compensatory? You live in that house because of me! Don’t imply yourself as the owner of that place!” you rolled your eyes for the nth time at yuta’s words, dismissing his words with the action.

“Why dont you donate your eyeballs to someone like me who can actually make better use of them. Instead of rolling them to the back all the time, I shall happily play tennis with them.”

“If my habits annoy you that much then why are you going back to breathe the same air as me. I’d be more than happy if i don't have to see your cursed face daily!”

“Stop you both.” Johnny's back shielded your view as he spoke. “He’s still here! Renjun, go and run a checkup for him and tell me how bad his leg is in actuality or is he just crying like a baby.”

In defeat, you sat down again. Fifteen minutes passed and despite being sleepy, you tried your best to listen to donghyuck’s ramble of something that jeno did the other day. All you heard was how jungwoo and jeno had a fight over piggyback rides and after that every word was transformed into a chant of word sleep as it hit your ears. Though it was early afternoon, the whole week had been nothing but tiring.

Once again your relaxation time was robbed off by none other than yuta. Maybe this was the end of your peaceful days.

Hopping off, you hurriedly whisked away before Johnny and Jungwoo could say anything to you. Two men were enough for towing the baggage.

As you stripped yourself off your jeans, an exhausted cackle left your lips when Johnny's words echoed in your head. During the car journey, he gave you some instructions in case of some emergency. That emergency being yuta! Not that you were going to put up with any of yuta’s demands, you listened to them anyway. Amusingly, yuta wasn't injured due to falling from stairs. He was getting drunk on the roof of a random building when he had launched himself into a sharp edge of a railing that gave him stitches all over his left thigh. Now he was as good as an exhausted car freshener.

As they settled him down, you didn’t bother going out even for a second. Choosing sleep over your much needed trip to the library, you tucked yourself into white sheets as the light breaths from air con lulled you to sleep.

17:00

Sitting in the library, your fountain pen ran along the plain pages like you were writing a well known story and not your thesis. The words were flowing like water and you felt no difficulty as you finished pages with the speed of light. Everything was going smoothly. You felt happy. And suddenly your hand stopped moving. It was glued to a single point, the nib leaking out on that spot. Next moment, your thoughts were muddled and a distant shuffling distracted you. The more you tried to move your wrist, the more forceful the noise became. Your breathing got heavier and your body jammed, the whole weight punching onto the weak muscles of the hand.

Your attempts never stopped but the noise did and it transformed into loud thumping coming right from your heart.

You tried to inhale but something stopped you.

Then you heard the calls of your name.

Rapid and loud.

Your body jerked forward and your breath finally returned as your eyes opened.

You had woken up from a dream. You were still in your room and the loud thumping was the loud banging on your door.

“y/n! Are you sleeping?”

Registering his words, you replied in a groggy voice.

“What the fuck do you want?”

“Your phone. I left mine in the medical room. I need to call Mark right now.”

Whining loudly, you fell back on the bed. It was only due but flailing your arms and legs like a kid in a toy store, you let out a screech full of annoyance, cursing on your fate.

Were you really going to babysit him now?

****

Stay safe everyone. 2021 is just 2020 with a change of pajamas😑wear your mask and force others too🌝

[bubsthebee]

Can’t Say It.

Aizawa x Reader

Word Count: 3,541

A/N: Fluff, dragged out but it’s a happy ending. One shot. Age difference (9 years) Reader is 22 while Aizawa is 31. Mentions of alcohol.  

Reader is a young teacher at UA who has a unique relationship with Pro Hero and coworker Eraserhead. After a while of getting to know each other, will they realize their feelings? OR will they let self doubt get in the way. 

CHARACTER REPORT

Position: UA SCHOOL ADMINISTRATION 

Job Description: Quirk Analysis and Evaluation Processing. 

Name: (L/N), (F/N)                Power: 2/5 D    Intelligence: 4/5 B

Birthday: (5/10)                     Speed: 2/5 B    Cooperativeness: 5/5 A

Age: 22                                 Technique: 5/5 S

Sex: Female (She/Her)

Quirk: Analysis 

-(Y/N) is able to instantly analyze a person and their abilities after observing them, familiarizing themselves with their qurik. This also includes evaluating/predicting situations with higher than average accuracy. With this ability, she can use this information with or against a subject. She can keep up to three peoples' worth of information perfectly memorized at a time. Anymore, her analysis starts to create more errors and her accuracy decreases. 

--

Ever since (y/n) started working at UA, everyone knew that Aizawa’s single streak was in danger. 

While the scruff chined 1-A homeroom teacher taught his bustling young hero course, she supported the admin staff! Specifically falling under processing and evaluating every student's quirk and how to help progress their potential. This means every homeroom teacher ran their notes and evaluations about their students through her every quarter, possibly more depending on how active and intense their training has been. She and her small team are a key to the school’s successful hero and support course. No matter how a quirk was used, they would find the best way to help them improve it. 

Classroom 1-A currently holds the record for most updates and changes to analysis (surprise). With an increase in updates, (y/n) has spent more sleepless nights making sure her work was perfect than she originally thought she was going to. Not that she minded of course! She was young, and found that it helped drive her to improve her passions and skill. Besides her administrative work, she also works as a substitute teacher for English, and Hero Strategy lessons twice a semester. If needed she is more than happy to help with summer lessons. 

Aizawa has had more than his fair share of interaction with the young lady, more than others if one was keeping track. After the hero noticed (y/n)’s sleepless nights because of his students, he offered to stay and bring her coffee. When (y/n) noticed extra heavy bags under his eyes, there would be a nicely wrapped lunch on his desk with a cute thank you note in return. 

Over time a unique relationship developed between the two that anyone looking in could clearly see. Including the students. 

“Mr Aizawa! Your lady friend left ya another lunch, you’re so LUCKY.” Denki and Mineta whined without hesitation. 

“Why don’t we get cute lunches made by cute girls?” 

“Shut up! That’s Ms. (L/n) you’re talking about, not some side chick you dumbos. I think it’s really sweet.” Mina cooed alongside some of the other girls. 

Their homeroom teacher could only sigh, carefully tucking away the lunch box into his work desk as he partially ignored their scattered comments. “Lucky or not, you all should have your notes out and study. Your test scores from  last week clearly tell me I haven’t given enough in class work time. Do I have to cut down on our outside training hours?” The instant shuffling of paper and pencils brought a small smirk to his face. Nothing got his students off his back faster than less training hours. As he took attendance and organized his schedule, the small peeks at the lunch box reminded him about his last encounter with his….coworker. 

--

“Midoriya is such a strange boy you know? I’m surprised his quirk doesn't instantly tear his body apart every time he uses it. I’m glad he’s getting a handle on it, I hated seeing him hurt himself so often.”  You were sat cross legged in your office chair, typing away at your laptop underneath a bright desk lamp. 

“I agree, he needs to learn how to use his body with his quirk.” 

“Exactly!- Well, it looks like his rate of injuries compared to training has decreased. Based off of Recovery Girls records, his quirk usage deteriorated his arm muscle effectiveness. This means he’s got to either limit his usage on his arms, or learn how to use the rest of his body to compensate.” Rubbing your eyes shifted your reading glasses off of your face, exposing the bags that were starting to grow underneath them. 

“You shouldn’t be getting such heavy bags under your eyes like that, you’re too young for those (L/n).” He always notices them, no matter how well hidden. 

“Ya, okay GRAMPS. You’re not that much older than me and YOUR eyes are just as bad, if not worse. And call me (y/n), we’re friends aren't we?” 

Rolling his eyes, Aizawa gets up with a huff to pour some coffee from the nearby coffee pot. “Midoriya is your last report tonight right? Go home, you’ve got Hero Strategy classes tomorrow.” as if on cue, he hands you the cup of warm coffee while you reach out for it with a quiet “Thank you”. 

The way you hold the cup in your hands and let the warm steam brush against your face leaves him staring at you with a soft look. 

“I guess I could leave a little earlier than I thought....” blowing cool air onto the coffee, you slowly take a sip of the warm beverage. Every time you see that look on his face, you can’t help but wonder what he’s feeling. 

After a short while, you both clean up and close the office up. It’s 1 AM and both of you are more than ready to get at least a few hours of sleep in. Like usual, he walks you halfway to your home before bidding his own goodbye. 

“Goodnight (L/n).” As Aizawa turns to walk away, he feels a small tug at his sleeve. 

“I uh-” Turning to look around, he sees you with pinker cheeks underneath a streetlight. How do you always look so...nice? No matter the light you always look nice. 

You slowly slid your hand down his arm to gently hold onto his hand. It was so soft, not just the hold but your skin. You couldn't even look at him but your voice was clear as day. 

“Thank you, for staying with me. I know how tired you must be too….so I feel honored that you decide to spend your important time with me- er, to help me. You’re a great teacher and man Aizawa. Good night.” Just as quick as the moment had started, your touch was gone and you made your way home. 

He was alone, yet he could still feel your touch on his skin. Aizawa stood there for minutes, looking at his hand in awe and strange curiosity. His coworkers and friends told him multiple times, “You two aren’t a thing?”, “It’s obvious that you fancy her Shouta.”, 

“She has to feel the same, you don’t see how she looks at you when you aren’t paying attention.” 

--

         The school bell alerting the start of their first class was what pulled Aizawa out of his mind, looking up to see (y/n) walk into the class with your information tablet. ‘Ah, right. Hero Strategy.’          “Good Morning class! Great to see you all again.” She was chipper as always, her makeup easily covering her endeavors from the night before. The young teacher wore simple black tights with her training sweat jacket, everyone murmured in excitement because this meant that there would be out of class training and demonstrations          Rubbing his exhaustion from his face, the black haired male stands up to go stand near (y/n). “You all have ten minuets to change and get to the field. Any longer and you’ll be stuck in cleaning duty for the week.”

         Iida is quick to stand and grab his fellow classmates attention. “Quickly but in order, please gather your things and head to the gym! No RUNNING!” As valiant as his efforts were, everyone rushed out of the class in fear of being put into the cleaning crew while it was out of their turn. 

         The small smile he saw on your face was sobering, calmly following behind you as you made your way to the gym. 

         Usually, Aizawa would sneak into his sleeping back and nap during other teachers' lessons. These ones were different for him. He would sit off to the side and observe how you worked with the kids.

 While some students could take simple suggestions and immediately apply them, others needed physical examples. You were more than happy to adapt to all their needs as they all trained with their new plans and teachers notes. While Tokoyami nodded and talked with Dark Shadow about your observations, Uraraka carefully mimicked your moves as you slowly countered her attacks explaining how they affected her opponent's momentum even more. 

         He knew you were a natural when it came to children and hero work. The obvious proof was right in front of him. That and he was nine years older than you, yet you both were doing almost the exact same job. That's where everything starts to blur for him. 

         After a quick practice round with Shoji, a rundown with Bakugo about his quirk usage along with Midoriya and the rest of the class, their first class of the day was over. 

         The rest of the day went normal, and (Y/n) left to finish the rest of her lessons while Aizawa did the same. 

 --

         After a long week, you were more than happy to have the weekend to yourself, or so you thought. 

Incoming Call: Keigo <(‘v’)> 

“Keigo?”

 “Hey tiny, sorry to bother but I felt like I should call in and see how you were doing.” 

 “I’m fine, just getting ready to watch some movies and order take in. Had a long week. You?” 

 “Gonna be heading out to an event soon! Glad to hear you're doing good. Any luck with your crush on the office grandpa?”

 You roll your eyes as you wiggle yourself into more blankets, clicking through the different documentaries you could find on YouTube.

  “I don’t have a crush on Aizawa, and even IF I did he is NOT a grandpa. He would probably want someone closer to his age anyway. The whole life experience gap and everything.” 

 “Yeah okay, whatever. Don't get mad at me when you realize I’m right and you're missing out on not being single anymore.” 

 “You’ll be the first person I call when you’re actually right. ” “Ouch-” 

 “Pfft, talk to you later Kei. I have an hour long video about the origin of heroes and it’s calling my name.” 

 “Bye bye!” 

-

         No matter how relaxed you were or how interesting the documentary was, you couldn't get you know who out of your mind. Could you have a crush on Aizawa Shouta? Silver Fox hero of the night? Grumpy man who likes taking naps in the middle of the day? You couldn’t lie, he was attractive and his personality was more than pleasant to you at least. It always felt like something was there between you two..between late night talks and having lunch together sometimes. It felt like there was a connection, and the only thing keeping you two from connecting was a waterfall of hesitation and doubt. 

 “Whatever…”

--

         “WoooOO! Staff Party, this is gonna be a blast Listeners! Present Mic here to keep your evening thrilling with an amazing music selection!” 

         Upbeat music with minimal words played through the old speakers of a rented out ballroom. It was the end of the first semester staff party, everyone was dressed semi formal with their hair done nicely and makeup to match. The decorations were nice, and tables were laid out with food, drinks and chairs to relax and chat. 

         Aizawa was one of the first to show up since he and Yamada came together like usual. Although he socialized with other teachers as they passed by, he stayed closer to the walls and talked with Kayama most of the time. He was dressed fairly well, a simple fitted dark g suit coat with normal slacks. The usually wild and wavy mess of locks was neatly tied back into a very clean half knot that showed off his handsome face. 

         “No date Shouta? I was sure that pretty young thing would be with you tonight. (L/n) Right, she’s such a lovely girl.” Kayama’s hair was curled beautifully around her, a long fitted dress with a deep V cut showing off her lovely charm. Aizawa only rolled his eyes, sipping on his Champaign class to avoid talking even if it was just for a second more. 

         “It would make more sense for her to come in with someone closer to her age or with a friend. She is the youngest person on staff you know.” 

         “Age this age that blah blah BLAH. I know love when I see it-” 

         “Not love, this isn’t some romance film Nemuri.” 

         With a small and understanding smile, Nemuri reaches out to gently pat her dear friend's shoulder. “Someday, you’re going to realize that the things that are holding you back are nothing but a reflection of your own worries. I know you’ll figure it out. You both will. Now try to have fun-” Her attention was stolen away for a moment, a glint of excitement in her eyes clear as day. “If you’re worried about how she feels and how she’s doing, why don't you go show her around and make sure she feels welcomed?” 

         Turning around, the first thing Aizawa see’s is you. A cheesy thing to say, but he almost feels his heart skip a bit.  

         You wore a black turtleneck underneath a midnight blue spaghetti strap dress that fit you just right. Knitted knee high socks and stylish black heel boots finished off your look along with a beautiful pearl pendant necklace. Your hair looked soft and styled in a way he had never seen it before. Your eyes were done up just enough in a way that made them shine even more than they usually do.

         He’s trapped, and he is slowly realizing that he never wants to be set free. 

         When your eyes scan the room for anything familiar, they finally land on a set of eyes that are looking right back at you. You have to stop yourself from visibly gasping, why did his eyes feel so intense? What was he thinking as he made his way across the room to you. 

         Like Moses and the sea, everyone carefully parted to let you both have your moment. They all knew the chemistry between you too, and were more than happy to leave you  alone as they carried on with their conversations and laughter. 

         “You look beautiful.” His voice was low, and held a sense of hesitant tenderness even he was unsure of. You knew he meant it. 

         “And you look very handsome, you even shaved for the party.” With a small laugh you gently ran the back of your fingers across his shaved cheek. This wasn't new, you had done this exact touch multiple times before when you made fun of his stubble yet- it felt more intimate than it ever had before. Aizawa knew he didn't mind it. 

         Carefully sliding his hand into yours, he lifts it up to press a soft and long kiss to your knuckles. “It is a special occasion. Would you like to join me tonight?” He was never a man who cushioned his words, straight to the point and expressing just how he felt was never an issue. You were different. 

         Accepting his offer, you move to accept his offered arm. The night starts slow as you both walk around and chat with other faculty members you work with. With Aizawas help you were confident that you were able to make some new friends, maybe going to this party wasn't so bad after all.

         Everything else almost felt like a breeze. Laughs were shared, drinks were drank- and barriers were being broken down. You and Aizawa found yourselves slowly standing closer and closer together, close enough to where your fingers would brush against each other when one of you moved. All of Pro Hero Eraserhead’s friends could only watch with warm and excited smiles for him. 

         Like always, nights must always come to an end. 

         While some people left to retire for the night, others stayed longer to help clean or help more than drunk coworkers make it home safe. “I’m helping Nemuri make it home Sho! You gonna be okay making it back tonight?” Yamada had Nemuri balancing into his side, laughing as she drunkenly waved some of the others goodbye. “Oh! You all can head back home together if you’d like. I’m just helping clean a bit before I head back home.” you politely cut into their little chat, holding a medium sized black trash bag in your hands. 

         Taking a moment, Aizawa starts to shrug off his coat as he takes the garbage away from you. “I’ll stay behind to help clean. If you’re alright with it I can walk you home.” with wide eyes, the younger teacher could only nod before she turned away to hide her reddening cheeks to pick up more trash and plates. 

         “No worries, now get em TIGEr. RaaArW-” As Kayama tried to cheer her friend on, Yamada tugged her away with an amused laugh of his own. 

          Not even an hour later, everyone was out and the sky was as dark and it could be. The only stars you could see were the large ones as the light pollution shrouded out the smaller and weaker stars. 

         This time around, Aizawa's coat was wrapped around (y/n) shoulders, her head resting on him as they linked arms on the walk back to her house. Instead of splitting off halfway, he walks her all the way up to her front door. It was silent for a moment, the events from tonight silently washing over them. 

         “Thank you Aizawa, this...was a really nice night. I don't think it would have been as enjoyable as it was without you.” (y/n) broke the silence, turning to face and look up at the man she knew she would never look at the same again. Rubbing his mouth in thought, his eyes flicker between the young woman standing in front of him and the road. 

         “I want to thank you as well. I-.” He paused for a moment. 

         “I would like to kiss you, but I understand if you wouldn't. I think after tonight you know what my feelings are for you. I didn't even know about them fully until tonight. Kayama- Midnight was right. I was letting my worries hold me back when I should have been forward like I always am-”  

         Time freezes when he feels your hands pull down his face, your lips eagerly pressing into a kiss with such raw love and desperation. Instantly his arms move around to gently lift you up into him. One minute, two..three. You both only break apart for air and your warm breaths mingle against each other. “I’ve wanted to do that for a while now I think. My friend was right haha...maybe I do have a crush on you. I was just worried because I had no idea if you would even be interested in a relationship, let alone with someone as...young as me. I feel like a high schooler again haha.” 

         The fact that you were able to laugh the way you did and still hold him in your arms brought flutters to his chest. He knew now that he more than just saw you as a coworker or a close friend. He wants to be more. “I know what you mean. Who would want to be with someone as old as me? I would never want to make you feel like I was holding you back.” He would never admit it, but he felt like a young adult experiencing love for the first time...it was a bit embarrassing (in a good way.) 

         “You make me feel so helpless sometimes you know that?” pulling his head down again, (y/n) presses another soft kiss to Aizawa’s forehead. “What am I gonna do with you Aizawa?” 

         “Shouta.”

         “Huh?”

         “Shouta, call me Shouta if you want.” Thankful that it was dark out, he could feel himself heat up at the intimate suggestion. 

         With the way your eyes sparkled while you said his name, he knew he was hooked. There is no going back.          “What am I gonna do with you, Shouta?” 

         “You’ll figure it out eventually. I’ll help you along the way as long as you’ll help me too.” The shared silence was an unbroken promise to do the best you both can. 

         After sharing your final kiss good night, you watch Shouta walk down the street and out of view before returning into the comfort of your home. The jacket around your shoulders smelt strongly of the stoic man you now called yours. Enjoying the warmth and comfort his coat brought you, kicking off your boots you hop over your couch and settle into a comfortable position. 

 Calling: Keigo <(‘V’)>

 “WHY are you calling me at….2 in the MORNING. You gave me a damn heart attack-” 

 “You were right.” your voice was soft and held no regrets. 

 “Right? Right about what?” 

 “You were right, I did have feelings for Shouta. I said you would be the first person to call if you were right. And well, you were right.”          The next hour was spent catching your best friend up on everything that happened tonight. 

-

         On the other side of the story, Aizawa finally made it home and had no problem finding sleep that night. He felt as ease knowing that things weren't going to turn out as bad as he thought it originally was going to be. 

         He can't say it, not yet. 

         But he is in love. 

         And so are you.

[bisexualamy]

I saw your reblog of lucy and the master and I’ve always found it interesting how intimate they are in the sound of drums like within the first 5 minutes they’ve kissed publicly twice and I just wondered do you think that a display of affection? Or is it just the master using her to complete his image of the perfect politician.

The short answer is that I think it's both.

The long answer is I think a lot of their PDA is artificial and directly in support of selling him as the perfect politician. I think the two kisses you reference are somewhat pointed. Public for a reason. They wait until they're fully in front of the camera before they kiss. The Master kind of, takes a moment to make sure he has everyone's attention before he gives her a kiss and walks into the conference room. But, I think there is some general subtext in Sound of Drums to indicate some level of mutual affection beyond just selling the plan.

There is really no way for me to not bring headcanon into this because we get barely anything from canon, especially if we just go off TV canon (though I think a lot of my headcanon fits the general tone of the episodes). Crucially, for me at least, it's fundamentally more interesting to make Lucy as active an agent as possible throughout this story. And the more active an agent she is, I think the more likely it is the Master developed any sort of affection for her.

The moment that most stands out to be are the "shall we decimate them" at the end of the episode. I always found it interesting that he gives her some level of ownership over this plan. That's... not a very Master thing to do. I think, if he truly wanted nothing to do with her, he would've killed her when he kills the American president. The fact that he keeps her alive even after the charade is up says, to me, that there's a bit more there than just him using her to cement the perfect politician image.

Ten, in EoT, says the Master corrupted Lucy. I think that's a very Doctor thing to believe, but I don't think it's actually true. She really has no regard for the death or suffering of other people and, throughout SoD, takes joy or humor in it. Even in EoT, when she tries to kill the Master, she's not actually doing it for moralistic "the Master is bad and can't come back" reasons. It's revenge. She wants him dead because he abused her and he had his people lock her up in a secret prison for years. When I say you die, you stay dead. The Master likely encouraged that instinct in her but he's just not hypnotic enough to create it wholecloth.

All of that to say, I think the original plan was that the Master was just going to find someone to complement the Harold Saxon persona and ended up finding someone well-matched for his takeover plot too. He realized her murderous, unfeeling instinct later, and that was genuinely appealing to him. I imagine, pre-SoD, they settled into a kind of for-show-but-not-for-show relationship. “We are playing this up for the cameras because it's necessary to make the plan work, but I like you, actually.” I definitely think Lucy's in love with him. I wouldn't go as far to say that about the Master, but I think he more than tolerates her.

I also think a lot of that comes from, whether he realized it or not, the Master actually kind of needed someone like Lucy to make this specific plan work. It would be one thing if Harold Saxon were an outside candidate (you can get away with a lot just being a charismatic white man), but he somehow held a cabinet position throughout Series 2. Time lords are just so unhuman. Delgado!Master impersonated a lot of gov't officials as well, but there was always a kind of uncanny valley with him? A bit of coldness. It worked well playing an establishment bureaucrat or a military general. But it's hard to win an election that way.

I really think the subtle political maneuvering necessary to get him into all those positions, establish the Saxon backstory, launch Archangel, get the Valiant built, and a million other little details, all in 18 months, all without anyone important noticing and going public, requires a human touch. I think Lucy was that human touch. And I think, the more hands-on she got (the more she made that we in "shall we decimate them" an honest we), the more the balance shifted from the Master tolerating her to liking her. Somewhere along the way, she stopped being strictly a pawn.

In the end though, he's the Master. It was never going to be enough for him to not be awful towards her once he got what he wanted. But like I said, I think it's much more interesting to view them both as selfish people, who want power and chaos and don't care about the harm, who found an opportunity in each other. So I think the kisses for the public are probably fake. But I think the affection is probably real.