#i love that hes going slower this season. he may be failing most of the time but the hermit interactions are fun

[mee1414]

Pesky bird

Day 27 - Grian

[daydreamingyuta]

Dates with NCT

summary: fluff, nct ot20, cute little dates that the members of nct would take you on.

Taeyong: Strawberry Picking Date

Taeyong would take you strawberry picking at a local strawberry field! He came up with the idea during the winter time, so you both had to wait until May for it to be strawberry picking season. The wait almost made it more fun though, because you both were ten times more excited.  “These are the biggest strawberries I’ve ever seen!” Taeyong says, his boba eyes wide in amazement.  You nod your head in agreement, admiring the most juiciest and perfect looking strawberries. “We need to make a strawberry shortcake when we get home.” “And strawberry milk!!” He says, as he picks some more and puts them into his wicker basket.  As much as you loved the strawberries, you found yourself watching Taeyong during the majority of the date. He’s just such a cutie whenever he tries new things. You always adored how he seemed to experience things like a child would, in pure amazement and wonder. You catch him off guard a little, when you crouch down next to him and plant a kiss on his cheek. He makes a cute face at you in response and you both go back to picking out the best strawberries.

Taeil: Cooking at Home Date

Taeil would want to mix things up from your usual dates, and cook for you! Taeil is a really good cook, so you were very excited for what he was going to make you. He chooses to make you pizza from scratch which he has never done before.  “Just sit back and relax honey, I'll make everything.” Taeil says after you ask him if he needs any help. You’re sitting at the kitchen table, he’s already made the dough, so you're watching him try and toss it up in the air. The first few times was a total fail, but it puts on a good show for you, at least.  Once he’s done, the kitchen is such a mess. You never knew cooking could be this messy. When you actually do try the pizza though, it’s genuinely one of the best pizzas you’ve ever had. Taeil sits back, with a proud look on his face, once he sees that you love it. “You didn’t even follow the directions, I don’t know how this turned out so good.” You tell him in amazement.  “I’m glad you like it, baby.” He says, as he stands up and gives you a sweet kiss. 

Johnny: Concert Date

Johnny knows that you’ve been wanting to see your favorite artist for the longest time, but their shows always end up getting completely sold out. So, when he saw that they were going to be on tour, he made sure to get you tickets. He didn’t tell you about his plans, just in case he couldn’t end up getting them, but luckily he got them and planned to surprise you. “Johnnyy, I’m so sad I couldn’t get tickets. They went on sale when I was in a meeting.” You say, hiding your face into Johnny’s chest.  He pats your back to console you, but when you look up at him, you see a smile on his face. “Why are you smiling? It’s not funny.” You pout.  He crouches down so that you’re face to face. “It’s funny because I’m the most amazing boyfriend in the world, and I got my sweet baby tickets to go see her favorite artist.” To say that you freaked out would be an understatement. You’ve been waiting to go see them for so long and that the fact that you finally were, didn’t seem like real life.  ⸻ If you had to describe the concert, you would say it was a dream come true. Not only did Johnny get you amazing seats, but he surprised you again by learning some of their songs so that he could sing along with you.  Although Johnny did enjoy the concert, his attention was mainly on you the whole date. He watched you, like a proud boyfriend. Seeing you so happy filled his heart with so much joy. During the slower songs, he made sure to put his arm around you and give you sweet kisses on your temple, as you both swayed to the music. 

Yuta: Nail Salon Date

Yuta would take you out to go get both of your nails done! Ever since he went with Johnny to go get his nails painted, he’s loved to get them done. So what better way to spend time with you, than going to get them done together! He would get his usual black gel nails, and he would help you choose which ones you want to get.  “Ohh, this one would look really pretty on you!” Yuta says, pointing at a set you had saved on your pinterest board. “I’ve always liked those a lot, but is it doing too much?” “No! Absolutely not, if you don’t get them, I will.” Yuta assures you, earning a big smile from you.  You both enjoy every second that you're at the nail salon together. Getting your nails done always made you feel more ‘put together’ which you loved. Plus every time you got a new set, Yuta always held your hand to analyze every detail of them, which you always thought was so cute. 

Kun: Movie Theater Date

When Kun told you that he was going to take you out today to go see a movie, he didn’t tell you what movie you two were going to go see. You even tried to guess what movie he was taking you to see, but all of your guesses were wrong, which left you confused but excited. You two walked into the movie theater and you turned to Kun to see what seats he had bought.  “Sit anywhere you like.” Kun says, with the cutest smile on his face. “We can’t, we have to sit where you bought the ticket.”  “I didn’t buy a ticket. I rented out the whole room.”  You turn to take a look around and he was right, the theater was completely empty which would have been impossible for the weekend. You pick out your seat, which takes a few tries, but you eventually get your perfect seat. You try to question Kun some more about what movie is about to play, but you don’t get an answer until it starts.  When you finally do figure it out, you couldn’t be more surprised. He had gotten the theater to play your favorite movie from childhood.  “Kun!! I can’t believe we’re watching this right now.” You say, grabbing his hand. “You always talk about how you wish you could see it in the theater like you did when you were a kid, so of course, I had to.”

Doyoung: Cooking Together Date

Doyoung had cooked for you numerous times, both before and after you started dating. You loved when he cooked for you so much, so when he suggested a date where you both cooked something together, you couldn’t have been more excited. When you walked into his apartment, you saw that he had lit some candles and was playing soft music in the background. The ambiance made you even more ecstatic. “What are we making today?” You say, as Doyoung takes your coat off and hangs it up. “White wine butter bucatini.” Your mouth waters as he says this. He’s made this dish for you once before and it was amazing.  Doyoung starts by boiling the pasta, while you mince the garlic. Every once in a while Doyoung made sure to come over to you and give his girl a sweet kiss. As you start to combine all the ingredients, his whole apartment is filled with the aroma. The slight pop of Doyoung opening the wine makes you jump, because of the serene environment.  Once the pasta is done, you two enjoy what you created together, getting lost in conversation. Before you know it, all the pasta is gone.  “We need to make this again!”  “Yes, and there’s a million other recipes I want to teach you how to make.”  “I would love that, Doyoung.” 

Ten: Painting Date

A few weeks ago while you two were getting ice cream, Ten saw a couple painting together at the park. He thought that it was such a cute idea, so he went out and got all the supplies the next day.  At first you were unsure about painting, because you were worried about it not turning out good, but Ten assured you that it was going to look amazing to him because you were the one making it.  He took you to the park that had the prettiest view of a pond. He brought a picnic blanket, some snacks, and all the painting supplies. You two set everything up, and you had to take a picture afterwards because it looked so cute. “I have an idea.” Ten says. “I was thinking we could both paint something for each other!” You loved that idea so you both got started painting right away. You both decided not to let each other see the painting until you were done, so that you could see each others reactions at the finished product.  “I can’t believe I forgot how much fun this is! It kind of makes me feel like a kid again.” You say, as you do the finishing touches. You end up finishing first and you see that the sun is starting to set. You look over at Ten and he’s glowing under the pink sky. He’s too lost in his own painting to notice you taking pictures of him, and the sky.  “Done!” Ten announces to you. “We should reveal our paintings to each other at the same time.” You both hold your paintings as Ten counts down from five. You turn you paintings around at the same time, and to say that you loved Ten’s painting would be an understatement. He had painted the teddy bear that he won for you from the claw machines on your first date together. “Ten! This is the cutest painting ever, I love it so much.” You say, as he hands it to you. You had also chosen something a bit sentimental to paint for your boyfriend. You had painted a close up shot of his hands playing the piano. When you two first started dating, he had been kinda shy about his piano playing, so when he finally did play something for you, it signified a new level of trust in your relationship. You knew he loved it by the way he kept smiling at it.  “I’m definitely hanging this up. I love it so much, baby.” 

Jaehyun: Yacht Date

When Jaehyun told you he was going to take you out on a yacht tonight you thought that he was joking, but of course, he wasn’t. “Wait, what do I even wear on a yacht?” You ask, searching for an outfit in your closet.  “ Wear that little black dress, you know how much I love it.”  You knew it was going to be a good date if he told you to wear his favorite dress of yours. You felt your excitement grow as you got ready. You know that he’s a sucker for a red lip too, so you made sure to put some on.  You had been on boats before, but nothing like this one. It had multiple decks with a kitchen, bedroom, reading room, and a giant hot tub.  “This is the boat?” You asked Jaehyun, surprised.  “Yacht.” He replied, as he held your hand to help you onto the yacht.  The captain came to greet you both to tell you how long the ride will be and to enjoy your evening together. There were other people on the boat, which you assumed to be other passengers, but were actually the rest of the staff.  “Did you rent the whole thing just for the two of us?” “Of course I did, baby.” He says, as he gives you a wink.  You had very few weaknesses in life, but Jaehyun treating you like a princess was one of them. You melted at his sweet gesture, and took a moment to process that your boyfriend would do all this for you.  The first thing you did was have dinner on the lower deck. There was a piano and violin player that set the tone for a romantic evening. The whole night Jaehyun was looking at you like you’re the most gorgeous person on earth, which of course, to him that’s exactly what you are.  After dessert, Jaehyun took you to the upper deck where you heard music playing. “Jae! It’s our song.”  “Is it?” He says, with a knowing smile because he planned this whole thing out.  Outside on the upper deck had the best view of the water, that looked so pretty under the setting sun. As you’re looking out at the waves, you feel Jaehyun's arms wrap around you from behind. He places sweet kisses on your cheek and down to your neck. “Will you dance with me, baby?” He whispers in your ear. You nod your head in agreement, as you take his hand. You two sway to the song, the same song that you danced to together hundreds of times throughout your relationship.  “I hope we’re still dancing to this song when we grow old together.” Jaehyun says, as he tucks a strand of hair behind your ear. 

Winwin: Fancy Dinner Date

You loved being treated by your boyfriend every once in a while, so every time Winwin took you out on a fancy dinner date, you were always so excited. This time, it’s a new restaurant that neither of you have been to, but looks amazing.  You both get dressed up in your best outfits. Whenever Winwin gets dressed up, you can never stop yourself from looking at how handsome he is. This always makes him a bit shy, but you knew he loved it when you couldn’t take your eye off him.  Once you got to the restaurant, there was a small line in the lobby, but Winwin made a reservation,so you two were seated right away. As you two look over the menu, Winwin grabs your hand to hold. He always does this at every restaurant, and your heart melts at the gesture every time. He rubs his thumb up and down on the back of your hand, while he concentrates on the menu. He looks up at you with an innocent smile once he decides on what to eat, like he doesn’t know the effect even the smallest touch from him has on you.  The food comes soon after you both order it and you are not disappointed. Everything tastes just as amazing as it looks. You are in the middle of eating when you notice Winwin is looking at you.  “What?” You ask him. “I love you y/n. I always feel like the luckiest guy in the world whenever I’m with you.”

Jungwoo: Flower Picking Date

Wanting to go to a flower field one day was something you mentioned in passing to Jungwoo. Ever since then, he had made it his mission to find the prettiest flower field so that he can take you. The flower fields nearest to you were pretty, but the one a little farther away was gorgeous. So, Jungwoo thought to make a day out of going and have it be a date! Jungwoo decided that it would be a nice surprise date, so he didn’t tell you where you were going. You really had no clue as to what he was up to, because he had never indicated that he wanted to take you to a flower field.  When you finally got there, it took your brain a minute to register that Jungwoo had really taken you here. “Jungwoo, this is even prettier than the pictures I’ve seen!” You say, giving him a hug before he’s even gotten the chance to park the car yet.  The flower field was filled with all different types of wildflowers. It went on farther than you could see and you just had to take a moment to really soak in the beauty of it all.  Jungwoo walks you down a little bit where there's a pathway that goes down the middle of the field. At first, you walk hand in hand together down the path. Then, you start to pick out the flowers you really like to make a little bouquet for. It’s hard to pick because they’re all so beautiful, but you end up picking out some yellow, pink, and purple wildflowers.  Jungwoo seems to be busy picking out some flowers too, but when you look closer, he’s only picking out one flower. When he seems to find the perfect one, he plucks it out of the ground but then hides it behind his back so you don’t see.  He walks up to you with that pretty smile of his. “I got something for you.” He says, as he shows you a cute little orange wildflower. He twirls it in between his fingers before he pushes back your hair and lets it sit behind your ear. “So pretty.” He makes a gesture like he also wants a flower behind his ear, so you pick out your prettiest one and do the same for him. 

Mark: Watching the Sunset Date

You couldn’t count the amount of times you and Mark had dates where you watched the sunset together. It was one of his favorite times of day and he loved spending that time with his girl.  Mark had access to the roof from his apartment, which was the perfect place to watch the sun go down. Even before the sun sets, the clouds in the blue sky are always so pretty to look at. “I just love how every sunset is different, but each and every one is so unbelievably beautiful.” Mark says, as you both are laying down on a blanket, shoulder to shoulder.  You look over at him with a smile on your face. You loved his love for the sky so much. You loved that he could find such beauty in the everyday things that most people take for granted.  The sun sets gradually over time, turning the whole sky pink. You start to take some pictures of it, a habit that you had gotten from Mark. You feel Mark press a sweet kiss on your cheek and when you look over at him, he gives you another kiss.  “I love you, y/n.” He whispers to you. “I love you too, Mark.” You whisper back to him.

Xiaojun: Ice Cream Date 

Late night ice cream runs with Xioajun were your favorite. It’s always very spontaneous, you and Xiaojun usually have a night together at his apartment, when one of you gets a craving for the sweet dessert. There’s a Ben and Jerry’s not too far away, so you always end up going there.  Xiaojun always orders for the both of you, after you’ve told him what you want. You stand behind him, as you watch the worker scoop out the ice cream and into a cup. You always go back to his car to eat because you love the cozy atmosphere of the night sky and the soft music playing from the car radio.  You two switch back and forth between each other's ice creams, ‘arguing’ about which one is better. Usually yours ends up being the better one which leads to Xiaojun saying that he’ll let you pick his flavor next time, even though he never does.  “Next time I really will let you pick mine, yours is always better.” You roll your eyes at him because you know it’s not the truth. “Don’t roll your eyes, I’m serious!” He tries to convince you.  “I’ll believe when I see it, baby.”  “Fine, we are going on another ice cream date tomorrow.”  (He did not get the flavor you suggested the next day.)

Hendery: Home Movie Night Date 

When Hendery told you that he had planned for a movie date at his apartment with you, you thought it was going to be like every other movie date you’ve had together. Which is why you were shocked when you got to his place and he had completely decorated his living room! He put out blankets, snacks, and lit some candles making everything look so cozy and perfect for a movie night.  “Do you like it?” He asks, with a proud smile on his face.  “Of course I do baby, this is so sweet!” You say as you wrap your arms around his waist and look up at him. “You’re so cute, Hendery.”  He gives you a kiss before he walks over to five pieces of folded up paper that you hadn’t noticed was sitting on the coffee table.  “What’s that for?” You ask him.  “I wrote down five movies that we’ve both been wanting to watch and then you’re going to choose one at random and we’ll watch it!” He says, clearly very excited by his plan. “Just pick the one that’s calling to you.” You take a moment to consider your options before you settle on the third piece of paper as the ‘right’ one. You unfold the paper and immediately you’re so much more excited. “Kiki’s Delivery Service! I love that movie, I can’t believe you even put it in here.” Hendry gives you a big smile. “You always talk about it so I wanted to watch it with you.” He walks over to the blankets and picks one up. “Where do you want to sit?” You decide to sit down on the floor with your back against the sofa. Hendery sits next to you and covers you both with the blanket. He starts the movie as you both snack on all the food he bought.  About halfway through the movie, you stop eating and get more comfortable on the couch together. Hendery lays on his back while you lay on top of him with your head resting on his chest. You both know it’s a dangerous position to be in because it’s so cozy and it always ends up with you both falling asleep.  Surprisingly though, neither of you did fall asleep until the end of the movie. Hendery seemed to be really enjoying Kiki’s Delivery Service a lot which made your heart swell because of your love for the movie. 

Renjun: Grocery Store Date 

With Renjun, everything was a date, as long as you two were hanging out together. One of his favorite dates to go on with you was to the grocery store. Most of the time neither of you really needed anything, but just wanted to go roam the aisles, picking up whatever looks good so that you could try it when you got back to his place.  He always took you to the same grocery store. A local one, that hasn’t changed since you both were children, causing you to get hit with a wave of nostalgia every time you come.  As much as you enjoyed doing this with Renjun, you have always wondered why he gets so excited for your grocery store dates. You two are walking down aisle four, when you decide to ask him about it. You slightly bump your shoulder against his to make him look at you. “Why do you like taking me here so much?”  He takes a moment to consider your question. “It just makes me happy. Doing the everyday things with you. Knowing that, even when we’re old, we’ll still be making trips like this to the grocery store together.” He explains, as he links his fingers into yours.  “Renjun, that’s so sweet. And you’d be such a cute grandpa.” You say, giving his hand a squeeze. He nods in agreement, causing you to laugh. He lets go of your hand when he sees a brand new flavor of chips he hasn’t tried yet. “We have to get these.” He says, giving you puppy dog eyes as if you would dare tell him no. 

Jeno: Picnic Date

Jeno got the idea to plan out a picnic date a week ago. You were laying in between his legs on the couch, when he caught a glimpse of your phone out of the corner of his eye. You were scrolling through Pinterest when you stopped on a picture of a couple having a picnic.  Jeno thought that a picnic sounded like such a cute idea, so he started to plan everything out right then and there. He even made himself a pinterest account so that he could get more ideas.  He decided that the park would be the perfect place. He bought a blanket, a cute little basket to put all the food in, and some flowers for you. He wanted it to be a little bit of a surprise, so he told you about it the day of when you two went to go get food for the picnic.  Once you got to the park, Jeno already had the perfect spot in mind. It was only a short walk until you got to said spot. It was right under a big tree so it had the perfect amount of shade. You two set up the blanket and got out all of the food.   “The weather is literally perfect for a picnic.” You say as you pop a green grape into your mouth.  You feel Jeno plant a kiss on your cheek. “You’re perfect.” You scrunch your nose at him for being cheesy which causes him to give you more kisses.  While you two were distracting one another, you almost didn’t notice a little kid sneaking up to your picnic. She was stealing a strawberry when you noticed her. You made eye contact with her and she ran off with the fruit.  You and Jeno burst out laughing. You would have let her have more if she didn’t run away. “No more distracting me angel, I’ve got to protect our food.”  “You were the one all over me!” You say, giving him a soft punch on his arm. 

Haechan: Selfcare Night Date

All week long, Haechan has been asking you about your self-care routine. So far, you’ve told him about your favorite sheet masks, tea, and the recipe for your favorite cookies. You had just assumed that he was going to have his own self-care day, and willfully answered all his questions.  You were surprised when he told you that you two were going to have a selfcare night date. As soon as you came over you, noticed the sheet masks on display, all the ingredients out to make cookies, and some candles that were lit. The amount of thought and effort he put into this date, melted your heart. As instructed, you came wearing your pajamas. Haechan, of course, did the same.  “What do you want to do first?” Haechan asks you. “I usually start off my selfcare nights with skincare.”  “Perfect, I’ve bought all the types of sheet masks you told me you liked so which one should we do?”  “Hmm, this one.” You say pointing to your favorite.  You two go into his bathroom and Haechan helps you put your hair up into a bun. He has to re-do it at least three times, but he’s so gentle with your hair and it feels so nice. Once he also puts his hair up, you both put on the mask. “I think we should make some tea now.” Haechan was already one step ahead of you, he had already put the kettle to boil right before you got to his place. So once you were both in the kitchen, it wasn’t long until it was ready to be poured over your tea bags.  “What should we do now?” Haechan asks you as you finish pouring his drink. “We relax.” You respond. You and Haechan both head over to his room where you decide that the most comfiest spot would be in his bed. You two stay there for a while, on your phones and drinking your tea, until you decided that it was probably time to take off the masks.  “Do you feel refreshed?” Haechan asks you, giving you a little kiss.  “Absolutely and now, we need to make those cookies.” You say, kissing him back.

Jaemin: Game Night Date

Game night dates with Jaemin were a regular thing between you two. You loved these nights with him even though he always messed with you. Jaemin would either cheat to win every single game, or he would let you win. You didn’t know which was worse, but your reactions were the only reason why he continued to play like this. He just can’t get enough of you when you’re semi-frustrated.  “Jaemin, there is physically no way you're not cheating right now. How have you won four games in a row?” You say, throwing down the uno cards. Jaemin looks at you with his hand on his heart, appalled that you would even suggest something like that during game night. “Is this really what you think of me, angel?” “Don’t call me sweet names to make me forget what you’re doing.” “Sweetheart.” He says, as he fake pouts.  “I’m not playing with you anymore.” You say, knowing that this is exactly what he wants you to do. He smiles at you as he comes to sit next to you. He stares at you, until you're both smiling goofily at each other. “You’re so annoying.” “You love when I’m annoying.” He says, as he apologizes by giving you a million little kisses.

Yangyang: Cooking Class Date

When Yangyang first mentioned that he wanted to go to a couples cooking class with you, you were hesitant at first. He kept on insisting though, so that’s exactly what you found yourself doing today.  The class was teaching you how to make pasta from scratch, which you were honestly really excited to learn how to do. The instructor was the cutest old lady, who seemed to have the strongest passion for cooking.  “...and then mix the flour into the eggs gently.” She says, as she walks along the room watching everyone's progress. She immediately stopped Yangyang because he wasn’t doing it softly enough, and showed him how to do it. “This is so much fun.” He whispers to you, and you can see it in his face that he means it.  You two don't make any mistakes until you get to the sauce making portion. Yangyang forgot to add oil to the pan, so the sauce started to burn.  “What do we do?” He says, in a bit of a panic.  “I don’t know, it’s burning.”  The instructor comes over and sees the predicament. She took the pan away and gave you guys a new one, along with some more ingredients to restart on your sauce. This time, you both make sure to do everything correctly. When the pasta was all done, all the couples in the class fed each other a bite. You and Yangyang both laughed as you did this, but it was actually really cute. You weren’t sure where he heard about this couple's cooking class but you were glad he did. You give him a quick kiss on the cheek, which he wasn't expecting and you saw a faint hint of blush appear.

Chenle: Bookstore Date

Chenle knew your love for reading, so he thought that it would be fun to take you out on a bookstore date. You couldn’t hold in your excitement when he told you this. Going to the bookstore just held such a special place in your heart, and you can’t help but feel a little giddy every time you get the chance to go. You both bring your favorite tote bags so that you can carry all the books you buy. Like always, you immediately get overwhelmed by all the books so you decide to take it section by section. You and Chenle walk down the book aisles hand in hand, taking your time and just enjoying being with each other.  When you settled on all the books you wanted to get, and even helped Chenle pick out some books, you both went to go sit at the cafe inside the bookstore. You both orders some coffee and pastries, which were amazing.  You were reading the first chapter of one of your new books when you noticed Chenle staring at you. “What?” you say, smiling at him.  “You’re so pretty.” He says, and then takes another sip of his coffee.  You bring your book up to your face to hide your smile. Chenle always knew how to make you feel special, and you loved that so much about him.

Jisung: Aquarium Date

You had mentioned to Jisung that you hadn’t been to the aquarium since you were a kid, which prompted him to immediately take you out on a date to the aquarium. You didn’t think that you were going to be as impressed with the aquarium as you were when you were a kid, but you were so wrong. The whole place was amazing and so breathtaking. You caught a glimpse of Jisung and his proud smile because it was a rare sight to see you in awe. Everything was just so pretty.  You and Jisung walked hand and hand through the aquarium, making sure to take pictures of everything so you had the memory of this date forever.  “Aw! Look Jisung, that fish looks just like you.”  He just stares at it and then at you. “That one looks just like me?” You nod your head yes while trying to get him next to the fish to take a picture of the both of them. “I look nothing like it, it’s ugly.” “It’s cutee I don’t know why you’re calling it ugly. That’s very rude.” He rolls his eyes at you and starts to walk ahead of you but stops and holds his hand out for you to take. You gladly take it and give him a quick kiss to apologize for calling him an ugly fish, even though you thought it was adorable. 

[the-boy-meets-evil]

once upon a summer | bsk

summary: Every summer kind of goes the same. The population of your usually sleepy beach town doubles and you bust your ass to make enough money to last through the slow season. But a new face blows into town like a whirlwind and he’s determined to catch your eye. Only one problem: he’s here for vacation and you’re married to this town. 

pairing: seungkwan x fem!reader genre: 90s!au, summer love | fluff and some angst rating: sfw but minors still don't belong here word count: 8.6k tags/warnings: none really, some swearing, mentions of food, there's a tiny bit of angst

a/n: thank you so much to @beomcoups and @mingsolo for hosting the Now That's 90s collab! be sure to check out the other amazing fics 💕 also thank you to @wonwussy @cheolism @onlymingyus and @wooahaeproductions for helping me brainstorm when i got stuck writing seungkwan.

It’s the same every year, without fail. The weather starts to get warmer, summer is around the corner, and your sleepy little beach town transforms. No longer sleepy, now bustling with life and tourists. Although you groan at how busy the roads get or how difficult it is to run errands or even how hard it is to find a place to go out to eat, you’re also thankful. The influx of tourists guarantees that your family will be able to make ends meet for another year. Sure, there are people that visit during the off months. When it’s too cold to go into the water or even to sit outside and enjoy a meal, at least to most of the people who visit. When you have to wear pants and a jacket to walk along the sands of the beach, careful not to get any part of you wet. But, the bulk of tourists visit between late May and mid September, like clockwork.

You’re just as married to this little town as your parents are. Chipping in at their restaurant when you can, but mostly running a beach rental company with your brother. It lets you be outside a lot more, running boat tours to look at dolphins or explore the tiny little islands off the coast. Or renting out jet skis for people to run around on. Sometimes, when you can’t pawn it off on someone else, you also lead the kayak tours through the shallows between the outcroppings of seagrass. It’s not that you mind those tours or even the workout of kayaking. No, it’s just that people have a tendency to overestimate their abilities and either end up whining or toppling their kayaks over. You’re keen to avoid that whenever possible. When the ocean is calm enough, you’ll also let people rent boats to go out wakeboarding. Those are some of your favorites, when you get to drive because none of the tourists has a boat license. Or, more realistically, nobody wants to deal with it when they’re on vacation. And there’s nothing stopping you from turning the boat a little too hard if someone is acting like an asshole. All you do is say you’re avoiding a wave or staying out of the path of another boat. You’re the local here, born and raised. How can they argue with that?

On the days when it’s a little slower at the shop, or the ocean is a little too wavy for some of the activities, you’ll drop in at your parents’ restaurant. You’re not often on the schedule, but there’s always plenty to help out with. Whether it’s filling in for someone that called out last minute or hopping behind the bar or just running food to tables. Your parents’ restaurant is one of the most popular in town. People wait for hours to eat there just because they don’t want to be the only ones left out. Of course, you also think the food’s amazing, though you’re a little biased. 

Today is one of those perfectly calm days out on the water, so you know you won’t be able to swing by the restaurant. Not that the waves ever get that big here. It’s definitely not enough to surf outside of an incoming storm. But, you try to be careful with renting the equipment out all the same. Most of the boats are refurbished anyway, since new ones are so expensive. 

“What’s on your schedule today?” your brother, Jamie, asks. 

“Nothing so far. I’m just getting caught up on paperwork and renting out boogie boards and shit,” you answer. “Not that there’s any waves to use them on.”

“No duh,” he answers. “Think the kids just use it to float on.”

“Whatever floats their boat,” you shrug.

“Feel like running a private tour out to the islands for the day?” he asks.

You fix him with a look, assessing him. It feels like a setup because you love taking private tours. They usually bring a bunch of food and drinks and just kind of do their own thing on whatever island you take them to. Which leaves you free to read or just enjoy the sun. Sometimes, you’ll even fish or snorkel. It’s just, well, your brother loves those tours too because they’re easy. Something about his tone makes you suspicious. 

“Why aren’t you doing it?” you finally ask.

“Got a kayak tour in an hour and they’ll be here any minute,” Jamie says. “And you hate the kayaks.”

“Gotta page Mike to make sure he’s back before you head out,” you say. 

If you’re about to take a boat out and your brother has a kayak group in an hour, then someone is going to need to actually man the store. Since you set the schedule yourself, you know that Mike should be back in half an hour, tops. But, like all of you, he’s prone to tacking on a few extra minutes when the group is cool and he doesn’t have something scheduled back to back. 

“Chillax, I already did that and Joshua is coming in a little earlier so he’ll be here before I take the kayaks out,” Jamie says.

“Joshua tries to get pretty girls to listen to him play guitar and you want him alone in the shop?” you wonder with a snort.

“That was one time,” Jamie defends, ever the loyal friend.

There’s a retort on the tip of your tongue about how he’s only been caught doing that one time when you notice a group of guys approaching. You immediately know why your brother passed the group off onto you. At least, if these are the dudes that booked the private boat tour. Shoobies. The worst kind of tourists because they don’t think they’re tourists. Because they only live a few hours’ drive away so really, it’s like they live here too. Because they have a house out here and no it’s not just a vacation house, this is home. This particular group saunters up looking like they just stepped out of some boating catalog. Before your brother can elbow you, you plaster on your best fake smile, the one reserved for times like this. 

The guy in front seems to be the one taking charge. His bright button up shirt matches his shorts, like he probably got them in a set, and his slightly curly hair looks a little too styled for the beach. The sunglasses look expensive, too, which you never recommend for a boat trip, but it’s his money. Honestly, his whole outfit probably runs close to what you’re charging to take them out for the rest of the day. So, that’s his choice.

“Sup, we’re looking for Jamie,” another one says. He’s tall and classically handsome, like that kind of guy you see in a magazine. Someone that just knows he’s attractive. He’s even got his shirt open showing off his stomach and a lot of tan skin. You hate him immediately. And not in the way of like oh, he’s actually kind of sweet. No, he reminds you of an ex. 

“That’s me,” your brother answers. 

“I’m Mingyu, I called about the day trip,” he says.

“Lucky timing, we just had a group cancel before you called,” Jamie says. “And my sister here has an opening to take you out.”

The surprise is clear on the guy’s face as you introduce yourself and give your name. Like you can’t possibly be the one that’s going to drive the boat. Like a girl couldn’t possibly handle it. You’ve heard it all before, so you’re just bracing yourself. But, before he can say anything, the guy that seemed to be taking charge earlier speaks up.

“Thanks for taking us out,” he says. 

“Are you sure you can handle it?” Mingyu asks, clearly unable to fully resist. For the first time, you glance around to do a headcount. Seven. Your brother is sending you out with seven guys all by yourself.

“The boat or the party?” you ask. 

“Either,” he answers like he’s actually doing something. 

“I got my boating certification when I was 14,” you answer.

“And she started driving boats a few years before that,” Jamie adds.

“Someone had to drive for you to wakeboard,” you say easily to your brother.

Your brother smiles before looking back at the group. “She’s also got a really mean right hook and she’s not afraid to use it, so don’t be skeezy.” 

It’s clear that several guys in the group are eyeing you appraisingly, wondering if you really could knock them out (spoiler: you absolutely could) or if you would even consider it (spoiler again: yes, you would). Nobody else seems to have something to say, so your brother carries on with payment and going over the rules. In the meantime, you double check that your bag has everything you need (pager, emergency kit, shoes, water, snacks, the lunch you packed, etc.) and grab your shirt. You’re in the process of tying it off when you catch one of them, the one that thanked you, watching you. 

A few minutes later, when you’re walking over to the dock, it’s him that falls into step beside you. Casual. Not even saying anything. At least, not for a minute.

“I’m Seungkwan,” he finally says. 

You greet him again, even though he already knows your name, and figure that might be it. It is, for a bit, at least, while you get everyone on the boat and situated. Tell them that they should probably save whatever food and drink they brought for once you stop because you’re going to drive a bit faster. They paid a little extra to go to a further island and since it’s a little later than you’d normally leave for that island, you try to even it out. Not that they’ve shown they deserve it, but there’s no harm in case they have deep pockets. Which you assume they do, based on their clothing and general attitudes. 

Where you had your brother helping you out pushing off from the dock, you’re on your own on the other side. It’s fine, you do it on your own all the time, there are just a lot of eyes on you. Some of those eyes seem to be waiting for you to mess something up, too, but you’re not going to give them the satisfaction. You brush it off when one, you forgot his name already, offers to help and says that he helps on his dad’s boat all the time. You can tie a knot, though. 

Once you’re tied off, you point out all the amenities on this little island, which aren’t much. There’s a little place to eat that also has a small bar, chairs to lounge on and umbrellas set up. There are also some picnic tables set a little back from the beach. You let them know that you’ll either be on the boat or sitting inside the little food shack if they need you. And you’ll be ready to head back whenever they are. Mingyu and most of the group take off immediately. Seungkwan lingers behind. 

“Are you coming?” he asks.

“Coming where?” you ask back.

“To the beach with us,” he clarifies. 

You blink in confusion. “No, I don’t usually hang around.”

“What do you do?” he wonders. 

“Read, get a tan, go talk to the couple that runs that little food shack,” you say with a shrug.

“Do you know everyone here?” Seungkwan presses.

You sigh softly and turn to face him fully. “Mostly. At least all the ones that work in tourism. It’s a small town.”

“Seems busy now,” he notices, looking around.

“It’s summer. Most of the people here now don’t actually live here,” you inform him. 

“What’s it like here in winter?” Seungkwan asks.

You regard him for a moment. “What are you trying to do?”

“I’m just trying to get to know you,” he says and, almost like he can’t help it, rolls his eyes. “Most people know how to make conversation.” 

“But why? Like what do you want?” you press.

“Just to get to know you better, geez, what’s with the third degree? You’re cute, there’s nothing wrong with talking to me,” he says.

“As if,” you scoff. “I don’t date shoobies.” 

His face is adorably confused and you mentally chide yourself for even thinking something about him is cute. “What’s a shoobie?” 

“Exactly,” you say like that answers everything.

He opens his mouth, but closes it when your eyes dart to this side. Neither of you noticed another of his friends approaching. You think it’s the one that offered to help tie off the boat. “We wondered where you got off to.”

“Sup, Chan? We were just talking,” Seungkwan says to his friend.

“Mhmm,” the friend, Chan, apparently, responds. “Well, Mingyu wants to know if you have the wallets in your bag. He wants to get something to drink.”

“Oh, right, yeah. I’ve got them,” Seungkwan says. 

You spend most of the day sitting at the bar of the food shack, despite saying you might read. Well, you alternate between sitting there and chatting with Vernon or helping him out behind the bar. His parents run all the services on this tiny island and you grew up together. Right down the street from each other, actually. He’s been one of your closest friends for as long as you can remember. And one thing you remember is the two of you have always helped out at the other’s family businesses. It’s just part of growing up in this tiny town. Everyone knows each other and takes a lot of pride in helping. Plus, you’ll never say this to Vernon, but you’re probably better behind the bar than he is. You’re surprised his parents have him here at all, but still welcome the distraction.

Your boat guests, as you’re calling them, know you’re here too. Mingyu made a slightly inappropriate comment the first time he strolled up to buy a drink and Seungkwan apologized for him profusely. Seungkwan seems like someone who actually cares about those around him, actively tries to make sure everyone is okay. It’s sweet, in a weird way, but still doesn’t change what you told him. The no shoobie rule is strict. As you’re considering telling the guys it’s time to call it a day, Chan wanders into the bar and says just that. There’s no rush, he insists, but they’re ready to head back whenever you are. 

“Need a lift back to the mainland?” you ask Vernon just after Chan walks back to his group.

“No, I gotta help the ‘rents clean up here,” Vernon answers as his mother pops her head around the corner.

“Actually, you should head back,” she says to her son before turning to you. “As long as it’s not too much trouble?” 

“No, there’s plenty of space on the boat,” you insist.

“Good, then you can go home and let the dog out,” she says.

“Okay,” Vernon says with a shrug. “I’ll just grab my stuff and meet you out on the dock.” 

You give him a nod and head off to the boat. The guys are coming off the beach and fall into step just behind you on the way to the boat. It’s clear most of them have been drinking, yet they’re not as rowdy as you’re expecting. They’re still helpful with getting stuff loaded onto the boat and only two of them make comments that make you cringe. 

“Do you own shoes?” one of them asks, gesturing towards your feet. The guy in question is especially slender, not skinny but lean. His dark hair is a little longer than you’re used to, currently tucked  behind his ears.

“Yeah?” you say, except it comes out more like a question. 

“You haven’t had any on since we first met you this morning,” he presses on. 

“Minghao,” Seungkwan hisses.

“I’m more comfortable around the boat without them. It’s easier to not slip. I keep a pair in my bag, though,” you answer, unsure why you’re even bothering.

“Should we all take off our shoes, then?” Mingyu asks.

“Might help you not fall this time,” another one jokes.

“Oh, snap!” Chan, at least you think it’s Chan, calls out.

“I didn’t fall, Jeonghan, I just stumbled,” Mingyu defends.

“Let’s all keep our shoes on and just watch our step,” you instruct. 

Vernon appears during all the craziness from your…well, you can’t really call paying customers idiots. But, there’s also nothing stopping you from calling them that in your head. 

“You’re the guy from the bar right?” Seungkwan asks and Vernon startles a little before nodding.

“Yeah, my parents run the food shack and the bar and that little gift shop,” he answers.

“I offered to give him a ride back to the mainland so he could get back faster,” you fill in. “As long as you guys don’t mind.”

The guys all shrug. Seungkwan is the only one to speak up. “Good with us. Do you know each other well, then?” 

“She’s my best friend,” Vernon answers without hesitation. 

If Seungkwan has something to say to that, and it seems like he might, he keeps it to himself. Actually doesn’t say anything to you for the rest of the ride back to the mainland and doesn’t appear to say much to his friends either. You don’t even mean to notice, mostly engrossed in your conversation with Vernon as he stays with you by the steering wheel. The group, as a whole, seems like they’ve had a good day, all smiles and very few hints of developing sunburns. 

You realize when you get them all off the boat and back onto land that they definitely had a good time. Mingyu tips you way more than he needs to and way on top of what you would normally expect even from a group like theirs. 

“What’s your schedule like the rest of the week?” Mingyu asks. 

“My personal schedule or the company’s schedule?” you ask, raising an eyebrow.

“Not like that, we just liked having you driving the boat and we want to come back,” Mingyu says and you can’t deny it’d be nice to have the guaranteed money.

“Oh, let me go check the books if you’ve got a minute,” you say. 

Mingyu just nods and follows you along to the shop. “I’m only in a few hours tomorrow morning, so I definitely can’t do that. Monday isn’t too busy and I don’t have anything I can’t move. Tuesday during the day, since it’s slow, I usually work over at my parents’ restaurant. The rest of the week is filling up, but nothing I couldn’t move if you wanted to have me with you. Otherwise, I can have someone else take you out.” 

“No, no, you were really great and we want to keep going with you,” Mingyu quickly says. “How about, for now, we book for Monday? And Wednesday. Full day trips.” 

“Where do you wanna go?” you ask.

“Uh, where do you recommend?” 

That’s how this whole thing with this ridiculous group starts. You ask Mingyu what kinds of things they want to do, list each of the reachable islands, list off the routes you can take without stopping at a specific island, list all the boat related activities. He ends up booking a third day with you, too, because there’s just so much that they want to do and want to see. You’re thankful for guaranteed money with people you’ve at least already met. Better the devil you know than the devil you don’t and all that. 

You’re a little later leaving your parents' restaurant than you meant to be on Sunday evening. One of the other servers really needed to get cut first, though, so you let them go. Often, you were first to cut out, since you had your own full time job to contend with. But, knowing your schedule for the next day was going to be easy, you didn’t mind. 

What you’re not prepared for, though, is one of the guys from the boat group sitting outside. Seungkwan.

He stands up from the bench he’s sitting on and walks over to you. “Busy schedule for you.” 

“What are you doing here?” you ask.

“We were walking by and I thought I noticed you. Mingyu said you mentioned working at your parents’ restaurant tonight,” Seungkwan says.

“So, you what? Waited for me? Kinda weird,” you observe.

“As if,” Seungkwan scoffs. 

“You’re here, though,” you comment.

“I just figured you might need someone to walk you home since it’s dark,” Seungkwan says.

“Kinda weird since I barely know you,” you comment. “Why do you want to hang out with me so bad?”

“Not really sure right now,” he says. 

You regard him for a moment and he shifts under your gaze. Without another word, you turn and walk a few steps, before looking over your shoulder. “I’m not going home. You’re welcome to walk with me, though.” 

Seungkwan looks confused but hastens to fall into step with you anyway. It’s like he can’t really help but keep a running commentary up while you’re walking. There are so many thoughts that it’s hard to keep up, or even get a word in. It’s entertaining, all the same. 

He pulls up short when you get to your destination and he realizes that it’s a houseparty. People and music spill out onto the lawn in a part of town that’s reserved for things like this.

“Aren’t you taking us out in the morning?” he asks.

“Mingyu didn’t want to meet until 10 because anything else was too early and it’s not that late yet,” you shrug. “You don’t have to come in if you don’t want to.” 

“But, I can? If I do want?” he asks and you chuckle. 

“Thought you wanted to get to know me,” you whisper into his ear. With that, you smile and walk into the house. It takes him a few seconds before he hurries after you.

Parties run a little differently here, in a town that depends so heavily on tourism. Sure, plenty of people will party until sunrise, anyway. Running off being young (mixed with a lot of coffee). You’ve done plenty of it yourself, too. But, the parties all start a little earlier for people like you that can’t always afford to go until the dawn of a new day, especially when you have to spend all of the next day on the water. 

While you’re careful to mix your own drinks from the bottles laid out, Seungkwan doesn’t seem to have the same worries. You introduce him to Joshua, who also works with you, and he doesn’t even hesitate to fall into step. So much for wanting to get to know you. Maybe he did just want to know where the good parties were. Joshua even lets him use the house phone to invite some of his other friends. 

Those friends do show up and somehow both stick out and blend right in. They’re new faces, brave enough to come to a party where they don’t really know anyone. And they’re undeniably attractive. All of them. It’s a bit annoying, really. As you watch from your position on the couch with Vernon, a group of girls that you’ve known for years, and never really liked, starts to fall all over Seungkwan and his friends. Rosie, the ring leader, looks over at you with a smug smile and returns her attention to Seungkwan. It’s the same as any other time. Her eyes get big, she leans in close to him, touches his arm. The shoobies always seem to fall for it. 

You’re on your feet and joining the group a minute later.

“Ah, there she is,” Rosie coos. Seungkwan clears his throat and takes a step away from her. Rosie, always using the same tricks, just steps closer and links her arm through his. 

“Oh we loved her,” Mingyu, the tall friend, states. He’s a little tipsy, mostly friendly. 

“Yes, everyone seems to,” Rosie says, all false cheer. “Seems a little…dangerous to me. Letting someone so young take you out on the boat.” 

“Only when you don’t know your way around a boat despite living next to the water your entire life,” you cut across. “Then, it’s best to keep both feet on land and do something safer, like working at an ice cream shop.” 

“I didn’t get any complaints when some of them stopped by earlier. Shame I didn’t get to meet Seungkwan, though,” she says and bats her eyelashes. 

You roll your eyes and hold your hand out to Seungkwan. “There’s someone I wanted you to meet, come on.”

“He’s fine here,” she says. You snort.

“Yeah, I can make my own choices, actually,” he says and extricates himself to take your hand. 

“We’ll just be here,” she calls at your retreating backs. 

“Thanks,” he says as soon as you’re out of earshot.

“No problem,” you answer. 

“Did you really want to introduce me to someone?” he asks as you wind through the kitchen.

“No,” you answer and pluck a couple beers out of a cooler. 

“Just wanted to get me alone?” he presses and you fix him with a look.

You don’t say anything else, just trust that he’s going to follow you outside, which he does. You plop down onto a bench by the fire and hold out a beer as he sits next to you.

“It was just a little busy in there,” you finally answer. 

“You don’t like the people?” he asks. 

To buy yourself a minute, you open the beer and take a sip. “I don’t mind crowds or whatever. I’ve just known all these people my entire life and some of them are annoying. It’s like we’re in some kind of competition that nobody ever told me about.” 

“Like Rosie?” Seungkwan presses. Your lips press into a thin line and you look away as you take a sip. “I caught the diss.” 

“Yeah, I usually dip when she’s around,” you admit. 

“She doesn’t like you either?” Seungkwan asks.

“None of those girls do,” you laugh. Seungkwan looks like he’s expecting more. “When we were in high school, a bunch of us went out on the boats one weekend. I didn’t realize one of their boyfriends was trying to pick me up until he went in for the kiss. I obviously brushed him off, but…”

“Damage was done?” Seungkwan asks.

“Yeah,” you say. “Like I’d ever kiss him anyway, as if.” 

“And that’s all? They’re not trippin’ over your success with your business?” Seungkwan asks, a mischievous glint in his eye over the question. 

You chuckle. “I do okay for myself.” 

“Okay? Joshua told me how well you pay him and also that he was shocked you managed to move around enough things to fit us in the way you did,” Seungkwan said.

“What do you want me to say? I could leave here. I could franchise and get out of this town, but I’m married to this life here,” you admit. “Plus, how could I ever get over missing out on meeting the people I charter?” 

“It’s okay, you can admit you like me,” Seungkwan says.

“You’re very confident, has anyone ever told you that?” you wonder.

“All the time,” he answers.

“Cheers,” you say and he bumps his beer into yours. 

That one party seems to be a bit of a turning point for you with Seungkwan and his friends. They’re all funny, if slightly hungover, the next day on the boat. Always make sure to include you in what they’re doing. It starts to feel more like friends than customers on that second boat trip. Against your better judgment, you also agree to see them outside of boating trips too. 

Through that, you get to know each of them. It’s actually kind of nice, in a somewhat chaotic way. It’s a little overwhelming at first. Not that you mind being around new people. You usually thrive in groups of people. It’s what makes you so good at your job. It’s also really sweet to see how much they love each other, especially the way they love Seungkwan. Any one of them would do anything for him and it’s melting your usually guarded heart. 

He hasn’t asked you out again since the party, at least not explicitly. But, he’s shown you in a million ways that he’s there. He’s brought you drinks and waited for you after another shift at the restaurant. He listens to what you say and the things you’re interested in. Like how there’s this beautiful art gallery almost an hour away that you’ve never been, but are dying to see. He’s touchy once he realizes that you’re okay with it. A hand on your arm, brushing along your hip, grazing your lower back. 

It’s only been a week since the first time you met them and this unexpected group already feels like a safe space for you. That’s why you’d agreed to a late dinner with them after a long day. Turns out, dinner was more like small plates cooked by Mingyu in the house they were staying in. 

“Why won’t you let Seungkwan take you to dinner?” Chan asks.

“I don’t date shoobies,” you repeat. 

Chan gives you a confused look. “That’s what Kwan keeps saying, but I don’t know what that means. I don’t think he does either.” 

“It’s a term for the tourists. Particularly the ones that come down in the summer from the nearby cities and think having a vacation house here means they actually live here,” you explain. You’re not sure why. There’s just something a little endearing about Chan. Kind of like a sibling. 

“It’s just dinner,” Chan says with a shrug and takes another sip. 

“Fine,” you relent.

“What?” Chan asks, nearly spitting his drink out. “Kwan!”

“Wait…” you start and then marvel at how quickly Seungkwan appears. 

“She said she’d get dinner with you,” Chan says as he walks away.

“You agreed to go out with me through Chan?” Seungkwan questions.

“Okay, it’s not like all that,” you start.

“You do like me,” Seungkwan announces, triumphant. 

“We’re not going out here. If I’m gonna go on a date with a shooby, it’s got to at least be in a different town,” you sigh.

“I can work with that,” Seungkwan agrees. 

It’s nice to be able to sleep in a little and trust that everything is okay both with the shop and the tours. You’re just about to head out to work when your phone rings. You consider letting the answering machine get it before rushing into the kitchen. You think you probably just manage to pick it up off of the receiver before the last ring. 

“Hello?” you answer.

“Oh good, I caught you,” Seungkwan says on the other end.

“Yeah, I was just headed out to work,” you say.

“Actually, about that. I know we said dinner, but I have a surprise for you today. It’s too good to pass up,” he says.

“Seungkwan, I have work,” you tell him.

“I spoke to your brother, actually. A couple of my friends agreed to help out at the shop and your brother has someone covering for you. So you’re free,” he shares.

“You can’t just unplan my day,” you say, but you know he can hear the smile. 

“You deserve a break. Just say yes,” Seungkwan says.

You consider it for a second, switch the phone from one ear to another to think. There’s only one answer, really. “Okay.”

“Okay?” he asks.

“Yeah, okay. What should I wear?” you ask.

“Just something comfortable. We’ll be inside, so you don’t have to worry about the heat,” he says. 

“I have to change because I was ready for work. Give me like ten minutes?” you ask. 

“I’ll come pick you up,” he says. 

It’s hard to get dressed for a date when you don’t know what you’re doing, but you try to just put the first thing on that you can find. That’s part of why you gave yourself such a short window to get ready. It forces you to focus without overthinking anything. Your mind is going into a little bit of overdrive wondering if going out with this man is actually a good idea. Not because you're worried something is going to happen. Weirdly, you actually feel very safe with him. It’s more because you do feel safe and comfortable and completely at ease. That’s not something that happens very often for you. It’s nerve wracking that it’s happening with someone only here for a getaway. 

Thankfully, a knock on your front door interrupts your impending spiral and you hurry to answer it. Seungkwan stands on the other side in a nice pair of slacks and carefully tucked in shirt. As his eyes traveled over your own outfit, you worried that you were underdressed. Then, he smiled, told you that you looked beautiful, and handed you a bouquet of vibrant flowers. You invited him into your apartment just long enough to find a vase and fill it with water. 

When Seungkwan leads you outside to the black town car, you pause for a second. This already feels fancier than any date of your life and it hasn’t even really started. Sensing your slight hesitation, he gives your hand a squeeze and holds the door open for you to slide in. 

As soon as he’s in as well, you’re immediately thankful for him. It’s not like you to be nervous on a date. Not that you actually go on dates often, but it’s just being around people. And that part is easy. Has to be for your line of work. Dates are usually easy too, which makes you wonder why this date is so hard. Thankfully, Seungkwan carries the conversation for both of you. Or, at the very least, he keeps up a steady stream of questions and stories about himself. All you have to do is follow his lead. 

Finally, curiosity gets the better of you. “Okay, where are you taking me?” 

“You do understand wanting to surprise someone, right?” Seungkwan asks. 

“We’ve just been in the car for awhile,” you start.

“Sick of me already?” Seungkwan jokes.

“And we’re not heading towards anything that I recognize for somewhere to eat or anything else date-like,” you say.

“You did tell me that you weren’t going on a date with me in your town,” he says.

“I did,” you agree.

“And we’re not going on a meal date,” he says, still maintaining the mystery.

“You’re so exhausting,” you complain. 

“You’re the one who agreed to go on a date with me,” he points out. 

“I did,” you concede.

“You must really like me,” he presses.

“As if,” you scoff in response.

The truth is that you’re not sure how you really feel about Seungkwan. You want to keep him at a safe distance. There are a lot of reasons that you have the rule that you don’t date tourists that come down to the beach during the summer. Part of it is that you don’t find any of them all that interesting. There’s often a sense of superiority over the people that are working for the summer. Or they just don’t see it as anything serious. Everyone loves to think of the fun, no strings attached summer flings.

Which brings you to the second, and real reason. No strings attached is fine. But it ignores that you’re real people, too, with real feelings that could get really hurt. It might just be fun for the person who breezes in and breezes back out on vacation. This town is your whole life. This is your livelihood. The last thing you need is to fall in love with some rich guy from the city that’s going to be leaving before you realize it. You don’t want to risk getting your heart broken. It doesn’t exactly explain why you’re breaking all your rules with Seungkwan, though. 

When the car pulls to a stop and you look around, your breath catches. As kind as Seungkwan is, you still can’t believe that he brought you here. Once, in a passing conversation, you mentioned an art gallery that you’d been dying to go to. It’s just that life got in the way or it felt too far away or nobody really wanted to go with you. It seems impossible that he would have been listening closely enough to remember you mentioning it. 

“Seungkwan,” you whisper out.

“I thought what better time than now to check off some things you want to do,” he says, trying to gauge your face. “Is that…did I do okay?”

“It’s so thoughtful, thank you,” you say earnestly.

“Let’s go, then,” he says and helps you out of the car.

The whole experience is a little surreal. Someone is waiting at the door and lets you in. Seungkwan doesn’t even stop to pay an entry fee, if there is one, before leading you off to the first installation. Just as you want to ask about it, you catch sight of the piece that he’s leading you to and get completely lost. Yes, this really is the perfect date. 

Seungkwan is also the perfect person to have with you. For all the times he can’t seem to stop talking, he’s surprisingly soft spoken during your time at the gallery. He keeps in constant contact with you: a hand on the back, carefully grabbing your hand to lead you to a new area, an arm around your waist with his thumb tracing patterns into your hip. His body pressed into yours is both immediately comforting and entirely terrifying. How has this man waltzed into your life and pulled all of your normal walls down? 

You were worried that you might feel out of your element going to a gallery with someone like Seungkwan. He’s clearly got money and loves art. As much as you also love it, you don’t exactly know very much. Instead, Seungkwan remains by your side and shares his insights about the different pieces while asking for your thoughts, too. Nothing about it feels like you’re out of place. In fact, you feel like you’re exactly where you belong. 

“Can I ask you something?” you ask suddenly.

“Anything,” he answers.

“Why’s it so quiet in here? I know it’s during the day, but…” you start while looking around. 

“Oh, I rented it out for the day,” he says casually.

“You…what?” you ask with wide eyes.

“I just thought it might be nice to explore it in peace without anyone else around,” he shrugs off.

“That’s really sweet,” you say with a squeeze of his hand in yours. “I hope you know that you don’t have to do all that to impress me, though.” 

Seungkwan looks away, maybe a little shy for the first time since you met him. Not that it’s been that long. “I do want to impress you.” 

“Why?” you ask.

“You’re not like anyone I’ve ever met before and I want to show you that maybe I’m not like anyone you’ve met before either,” he answers. It’s so honest. More honest than you’re used to. 

“You’re definitely not like anyone I’ve ever met,” you admit.

“In a good way?” he wonders.

“I’m not sure yet,” you say, matching his level of too-honest. 

Seungkwan, usually quick with a smart remark, doesn’t have anything to say to that. He only runs his thumb over the knuckles of your hand in his. You’re starting to appreciate that about him. That he doesn’t always say something even when you know he’s got some of the quickest wit in the world. 

When you leave the museum, he takes you to the greasiest hole-in-the wall of a dinner that you’ve ever seen. The kind of place that you can’t really imagine someone like him visiting. Someone that has a car phone and designer everything. The kind with more money than you can even conceive of having yourself. But, he slides into the booth with the cracked leather and opens up the discolored menu to see what the place has. 

There’s something really endearing about it. Especially considering how worried you were about fitting in at the art museum and then some fancy restaurant afterwards. Instead, he’s showing you all the little ways that he can fit into your world. Or that he can adjust his world to fit you. All the many ways that he listens when you say something about wanting to go to the museum or not really seeing the point of those super fancy places. Which, honestly, isn’t even totally true. 

Your heart is so full watching Seungkwan make the waitress laugh at his jokes. You feel impossibly light at the ease of the conversation between you. It’s even easy to swat away at his hand when he tries to steal food off of your plate. It should be a little scary, the way this man is breaking down every wall that you spent so long putting up with a practiced ease. It’s not, though, and you don’t really want to dwell on why that is.

Nothing really changes, at least not officially. But, in reality, everything is different. Seungkwan fits into your daily routine with the same ease that he’s shown in everything else. He’s there with coffee before you start work, there at the end of the day to talk about dinner plans or walk you over to the restaurant your parents own. Sometimes, he’s there during the work day, with or without his friends. It’s only been a little over a week and he already feels like an inextricable part of your routine. 

Your brother only teases you a little bit. Mostly, he claims, because he’s afraid that Mingyu could take him (spoiler: he absolutely could not). Really, he’s just happy to see you happy and taking chances that you wouldn’t normally take. Happy to see you enjoying life instead of just living to work. He doesn’t talk about the looming issue and you don’t bother bringing it up either.

At least until you can’t really avoid it anymore. 

You and Seungkwan are sitting on a swinging bench at the park. With your legs tucked up underneath you, it’s easier to curl up to him. As is normal for him, he finds all the little ways that he can to be in contact with your body. Even though physical affection has never been your favorite, he’s so casual about it that it feels easy. Everything feels easy. 

“So, I have to leave tomorrow,” he says.

And suddenly, your whole world flips. Which is crazy, right? You still barely know him. Haven’t really been out on much that counts as a date. And you knew that this all had a time limit because he’s a tourist. A shooby. Someone that only comes down during the summer or on weekends. This isn’t home to him like it is to you. It doesn’t make any sense that it would feel as awful as you’re feeling now. He’s just someone you met through work and have gotten to know. It is not the end of the world.

“Oh, right,” you say, pulling away to put space between the two of you.

“Are you upset?” he asks. 

“No, of course not. Why would I be?” you ask in return.

“You seem upset,” he presses.

You scoff. “As if.” 

“Well, I actually wanted to talk about what we were going to do since I have to head back to the city,” he says.

“What we’re going to do?” you repeat as a question.

“Yeah, like about us,” Seungkwan says. You aren’t looking at him so you don’t see the confusion on his face. You don’t really hear it, either. Not over the pounding in your head. “I was thinking I could come down sometimes on the weekend and figure out how to get you up to the city when you have time off during the week and…”

“What are you doing, Seungkwan?” you snap, finally looking at him.

If he registers the hurt in your eyes, he doesn’t comment on it. He only reiterates what he’s already said. “I’m trying to talk about us, like I said.”

“There is no us here,” you snap. “It always had an expiration date, right? You were always going to leave.” 

“Well, yeah, I do have to leave. But, I don’t want this to…” he starts.

“To what? To end? Why bother starting it in the first place?” you ask with far more bite than you intended. 

“Because I like you,” he says like it’s obvious.

“Do you? Or do you just like that I’m fun for vacation?” you ask. 

“This has never been about just having fun on vacation,” he says, still trying to keep his voice even. You can hear the irritation creeping in, though. Good. Maybe that’ll be easier.

“Sure it wasn’t,” you snark.

“Listen, if it was just about fun on vacation, I wouldn’t have picked you,” he finally snaps. 

“Nice, Seungkwan,” you say, even though you know you pushed him. 

“Don’t turn this around. You know it’s not about it being some vacation fling. Vacation flings are supposed to be…” he starts and then snaps his mouth shut.

“What? Easy? So I’m not a fling because I didn’t sleep with you?” you ask.

“You’re twisting my words, that’s not what I meant,” he pleads with you.

It’s too much, though. This is exactly why you never go on dates with people like him. This town is just an escape to them. Something to get them out of the dreary routine of everyday life. And it’s everything to you. The only thing you’ve ever known and the one place you’re not sure you could ever give up. So, yeah, you knew better than to get involved with him. Knew and did it anyway. There’s nobody else to blame.

Without another word, you’re on your feet and walking off. Ignoring Seungkwan’s calls after you. It’s over and that’s a good thing. It’ll allow you to refocus on the things that matter like your family and making enough money to last through the quiet season. There’s no point in listening to anything else that Seungkwan has to say when you’ve heard it all before. 

This always had an expiration date, you remind yourself. At least you got to walk away on your own terms.

It seems that Seungkwan doesn’t understand that it has an expiration date. He tries to stop by the shop before he and his friends head back home. Your brother is quick to intercept him and suggests he’s better off just leaving. For all the annoying things your brother does, at least he doesn’t bother you. Just lets you keep busy and take over any of the tours when you don’t have something else to do. Even lets you reorganize the entire store without a word. You’re thankful for him.

That’s not the last you hear of him, though. You come home to messages on your answering machine asking you to call him back with a number. There’s no point in taking down the number, or even finishing the messages, so you delete them. It even makes you hesitate to answer the phone, preferring to let the machine get it. When you’re not sure if it could be him, you’re not in a rush to pick up. 

That’s when he starts reaching out to your friends like Vernon. Thankfully, he’s naturally aloof and doesn’t actually know much of what’s going on. There��s not much he can tell Seungkwan. Not much help he can provide. Although, he wouldn’t help anyone that you didn’t want him to, so he mostly just stays out of it. 

It isn’t until the first weekend since he left that you realize he’s still got tricks up his sleeves. You actually have a minute to wonder why he didn’t call the night before. Actually wonder if maybe you’re being too hard on him. And then he’s there, waiting for you by your shop. When you try to ignore him and breeze through the door, your brother blocks your way. 

“Just…give him a chance to talk. You might be surprised what he has to say,” Jamie says. 

Your brother is a lot of things. He’s annoying in the way all siblings can be. But, he’s never stuck his nose into your business without good reason. And he’s definitely never gotten involved in your dating life. It’s enough of a pause to make you consider giving Seungkwan a chance to say whatever he drove all this way to tell you. 

“What’re you doing here?” you ask when you sit down next to him. 

“It’s the only way I could think of to make sure I could talk to you,” he says. 

“I didn’t want to talk,” you say, a little petulant. 

“Then you can just listen,” he says. That catches you a bit off guard with how firm he is. “I didn’t come down here looking for anything. I just came away for a trip with my boys. Then we met you and you’re all I could think about. You’re complicated and guarded, but you’re also kind, smart, funny, thoughtful, strong, and the only person in my life I haven’t been able to figure out in one or two conversations. I wasn’t planning on developing feelings for you. I can’t help that I did. And it certainly has nothing to do with it being vacation. You’re not some vacation fling to me.” 

That whole speech brings you up very short. This isn’t what you were expecting and you feel a little guilty. You’re not used to someone putting in this much effort when there are so many obstacles. It’s not how this normally goes. Sure, someone comes down for a weekend or a vacation and they want to chase you while they’re here. Then, the vacation ends and they want to just go back to their normal life with a story about the person from vacation. They didn’t want the complication of distance and schedules before anything had even really happened.

“There’s got to be other people that don’t live so far away,” you say. 

“I can’t think of anyone but you,” he says confidently. Easily.

“But, why me?” you ask.

“For all the reasons I said,” he says. 

“You live far away,” you protest weakly.

Seungkwan takes your hands in his and looks calmly into your eyes. “Just answer one thing for me. Do you feel something for me as well? Or am I reading this whole thing wrong?” 

“I do, but…” you start.

“No buts. Don’t worry about the distance or any of that. We’ll figure all of that out,” he says.

“By me moving?”  you wonder.

He looks surprised. “No, of course not. We’ll just find times where we can. It’s like I said. I’ll come down for a weekend or you can come visit me. I’ll pay to send a town car to pick  you up if I have to.”

“You really want to make this move without changing…” you start but can’t finish.

“I want you exactly how you are. Like I said, we’ll figure out a way,” he says. “Are you in? Ready to take the jump?”

“As long as you catch me,” you say through the butterflies in your stomach.

“Every time,” he agrees.

i struggled with this and seungkwan was difficult, but i hope you like it all the same 💕

[majortomyourcurcuitsdead]

Some S2 E2 thoughts

Just rewatched a second episode of a second season; what a good one it is.

I wanted to write out some thoughts I had about Aziraphale’s and Crowley’s dynamic while watching it; this may have been discussed already in one way or another, but I think this aspect is so omnipresent within the series that it can sort of be taken of granted, and possibly overlooked. I also like analysing out loud, or, like here, by writing it out (it's good for my as I like to call it my acting brain).

So, my main point being is (and it can divulge into a different one in a bit cause I am sleepy yet passionate about this)- Both of them see through each other, like no one else they know does.

Crowley’s “I want to destroy children of Job” ? (Naah, Aziraphale doesn’t buy it)

Aziraphale’s responses to Crowley ~ - Whose side are you on? - God’s of course. - Oh, really? The same God that wants me to whack the kids? - Yes… (Crowley’s like lmao angel welcome to the club I guess)

And please, this is so important to support this whole point - can we talk about Crowley’s

“What do you know about what I want” bit

The facial expression, tone of voice and the eyes which we luckily have a quick glimpse of in this scene (and I have a suspicion that it was done on purpose so they are visible here), they scream “I see and understand that you know me, but it’s too dangerous for me to just be who I am. So let’s continue, at least for now, to play this game and let me create the illusion that I am a demon that I am, they need to see it. Not because I sincerely want to actually be one, fuck that to be honest; I just don’t want to die. Am I angry at this? Do I even feel a certain contempt, actually directed at myself for where I am at? Yes. Can it be better? No”.

But I also think that this is buried quite deep in the case of Crowley; you could say it’s subconscious (but most likely with time and at some point comes more to the light). I also realised with rewatching and reading other’s thoughts about this, this I-want-to-destroy-children-of-job-and-stuff “shield” for his own survival has actually grown thicker with time. (And what I want to add, not deep enough to actually sincerely want to be evil, that wouldn’t be the character we have; at least in a canon way we have now).

It’s interesting because Aziraphale is not quite the same [yet], in regards to a stance with his respective “offices”; so they are not fully mirroring each other in this aspect [again, and hopefully yet]. (As an additional note, the most similar Aziraphale was to Crowley in this regard was right after the failed Armageddon, but as we know at the end of Season 2 he returned to Heaven with a newfound hope to make it better).

Yes, Aziraphale sees through Crowley and Crowley sees through Aziraphale. But it’s only Aziraphale who actually wants to be a part of Heaven. And more precisely, he stands for what Heaven is on paper (love light peace etc), which is in fact very obviously very questionable in practice. And excuse me, Crowley? The Shuhite Crowley who in the end saves children (and also later down the line is concerned about feeding ducks with bread? Pure evil incarnate yes). Definitely a very loyal servant of Hell.

Crowley is obviously way ahead in his journey of being the odd one out, and this episode beautifully shows a muuuchh slower downhill route of a similar nature for Aziraphale (“You’re going to fast for me Crowley” much?) But that being sad, Crowley assists him on his journey when he feels is a right moment to do so, by nudging him in a direction of questioning Heaven (cause he sees his Angel is deep down in his propaganda sh*t and Crowley just wants him out of there), but also just by being there where Aziraphale is in distress without making uncomfortable moments more uncomfortable for him (I remember specifically this being pointed out by someone already, I will make sure to link the post once I find it). So as mentioned, both of them see through each other, like no one else they know does, right? Imagine how the will see through each other even more clearly after both of them are on the same page in this regard.

Ok I will be going to sleep .. soonish cause if I said "now" that would be lying tbf I just take tooo long to prepare for sleep

[rruhlreviews]

Book Review - The Shining by Stephen King

This is the first Stephen King novel I’ve read, and fittingly, I read it during the largest snowstorm I’ve seen in a few years—though not nearly as severe as the blizzards that entrap the Torrance family in the Overlook. It was an excellent introduction to his body of work. Since I write gothic horror, reading The Shining has helped me to learn more about the broader canon of the subgenre, especially since my experience thus far has primarily been the foundational stories of the nineteenth century, such as Carmilla and the works of Edgar Allan Poe. The Shining, written and set in 1977, enhanced my horror experience as I had a closer cultural connection to the fears explored in the story. Small details down to the sad song Seasons in the Sun on the radio made the threats feel close to home. I believe this is why it had such mass appeal, as a reinvigorated take on a classic subgenre. Divorce, generational trauma, economic depression, and the undercurrent of racial relations are easy for the contemporary reader to connect with, and this is still true almost fifty years later in 2024.

Regardless of the year of setting, The Shining contains the hallmark elements of gothic horror: an isolated location, missed opportunities for escape, loss of sanity, and haunting. The characters not only physically trapped in the Overlook, but emotionally trapped with each other, and it’s the latter that makes the story captivating. Jack fears becoming his father, Wendy fears becoming her mother, and both fear upsetting their son with a divorce, which keep them entangled in their failing marriage. Through the narrative, their resentment for each other is as palpable as the steam building up in the boiler, a ticking time bomb. This is what I consider to be the most masterful element of the novel and the reason it remains so popular: a sense of subtle, creeping dread and psychological tension.

The first 250 pages were difficult for me to remain interested in, if I’ll be honest, but I kept reading because of the little hints. I could not put the book down for the last 200 pages. My own gothic novel has a slower pace, and something I had been recently struggling with was feeling like I needed more glamour and action to convey dread, but The Shining is titillatingly creepy with a thousand little threads that weave together in a web to ensnare the reader’s curiosity. The introduction of the story teases a climax that is paid off in full at the end. In addition to the main suspense around “redrum,” the recurring symbol of the wasps stood out to me. The first major supernatural occurrence at the Overlook was the resurrection of the hive, Jack connects the wasp nest with his abusive father and the cycle of trauma, and the entity dying at the end is compared to a swarm. The novel is neatly bookended, starting with Wendy and Danny together in a normal day, and ending with Wendy and Danny together in a new type of normal. I do personally prefer horror stories with hope at the end.

After gaining experience with formulaic mysteries and thrillers—which I do enjoy, don’t get me wrong—I love a suspenseful novel that is not predictable. Despite knowing nothing was going to allow the family to leave the Overlook, there were times I had hope Jack would snap out of it, and I really thought it wouldn’t be possible—but then he did at the very end to complete his goal of saving his family. I could not predict if Dick was going to make it to Colorado and survive to the end of the novel, and that perilous journey up the Rockies in a blizzard may be one of the most harrowing things I’ve ever read—and he fought not only the winter, but racial profiling. Another touch of realism to bring the fear home. I was convinced Wendy and Jack were going to kill each other, but Jack was the only one not to escape the Overlook. The novel kept me guessing and I felt real fear and disgust, especially when the dead woman in the tub was first revealed and when Jack was hunting Wendy in the scene made famous by the movie. A successful horror story indeed. My hope for my own writing is to make a reader feel such raw emotion and concern for a character.

As for criticism, I’m unsure how I felt about the third person omniscient point of view. I believe we needed all the viewpoints offered to get a full picture of the story told, but at times, the perspective seemed to shift midsentence and the style wasn’t the most readable. From a gender lens, something I could’ve gone without was how the novel paused to mention what every woman’s chest felt or looked like. It’s not unexpected for a male author in the seventies but it did take me out of the narrative. If I had a shot every time the word “nipple” appeared, I probably would have about five shots, which is, in my humble opinion, too many for a story without a romantic focus.

If The Shining was written by an unknown author in 2024, I feel like it wouldn’t have been allowed to have such a slow start or have a length of 500 pages. The market has changed since 1977 for an audience with a much shorter attention span. The first page is Jack’s dislike for his new boss. It doesn’t have the hook demanded by modern readers. Yet the first chapter foreshadows the rest of the novel, and right away, we know Jack will try to kill his family like the former caretaker. The narrative may meander at times like a mountain road, but it delivers. King keeps his promises to the audience in The Shining, which is what makes the book and him as an author so successful.

[alienidentities-f22a]

Fan Work Analysis Blog post

After scouring through the endless masses of fan edits, the fan video that stood out to me the most is “Michael & Alex | Their Cosmic Love Story.” Aside from the length of the video, the overall project is incredibly impressive due to the careful selection of filters and songs to create an alluring ambiance. Each clip is carefully selected to span their entire relationship through all of their peaks and hardships to illustrate the complexity and depth of their love. Dissecting the clips in this video, I will primarily be focusing on the masterful song choice and the quality of the visual effects and transitions.

To begin, the creator of this fan video assigned each season of the show to a song by Taylor Swift that encapsulates the status of their relationship. For season one, the creator used “The State of Grace (Acoustic Version)” by Taylor Swift. As the first song on Red, the creator recaps the beginning of Alex and Michael’s relationship with a slower, more romantic acoustic version that allows their chemistry to shine. "The State of Grace" is about a romantic relationship because, prior to their breakup, Taylor Swift dated actor Jake Gyllenhaal for many months. Ultimately, the song's subject is to describe the initial feelings of falling in love for the first time, which is the case for Alex and Michael.

Taylor Swift wished to convey to her listeners the experience of falling in love by discussing the several paths that love may go. As we are all aware, love may be wonderful or harmful, and Alex and Michael's relationship exemplifies this because of their unwavering happiness while together and wishful longing while apart. The lyrics like “This is a state of grace, this is the worthwhile fight, Love is a ruthless game, Unless you play it good and right,” exemplify how their love is able to withstand so many roadblocks, especially Alex’s father, and make them feel even more connected afterward.

The lyric match of “pierce the room like a cannonball” when Jesse Manes caught Alex and Michael having sex, who then smashed Michael’s hand with a hammer indicates how perfect the song choice is for this relationship. Combined with the softer colors in the scenes, it is clear that Michael and Alex’s experiences of falling in love were undoubtedly positive and fulfilling.

For the second season, Taylor Swift’s “Champagne Problems” echoes over the intimate moments between Alex and Michael to illustrate their relationship’s depth. In the beginning, the creator inserts clips of Alex and Michael while apart with the failed proposal, playing “I dropped your hand while dancing” in the background. This lyric match is perfect because it properly conveys the feelings of isolation, loneliness, and rejection, creating a more somber atmosphere.

Once Alex and Michael begin to mend their relationship, Michael begins to push away because he feels unworthy of Alex’s love, which correlates with the lyrics of “leaving him out there standing.” Towards the end of the song, too, it talks about Taylor’s ex-boyfriend moving on a finding someone else, which creates a feeling of longing to rekindle past feelings.

The lyrics “tapestry that I shred” aligns with the scenes of Alex talking to Forrest and trying to move on from Michael, which is a perfect match. Later, Michael says, “it’s a sad story, me and Alex” and then proceeds to show the pictures of Alex and Forrest kissing. Indeed, the lyrics, the clips, and the narrative all fit harmoniously to span the highs and lows of their relationship.

For the last part of the video, the creator uses Taylor Swift’s “Willow” and “Message in a Bottle” to capture the complexity of Alex and Michael’s relationship. Especially with Alex’s involvement in Deep Sky, the video and audio correlate with the “more that you say, the less I know” because Michael does not really know about Alex’s work. Later, the song asks to “show me the places where the others gave you scars,” which relates to their relationship because of their collective past trauma.

Throughout the video, the creator talks about the difficulty of “tough conversations with people who love us,” corresponding to the “scars” that Taylor writes about in her songs. Again, the song choice perfectly captures the complexity of Alex and Michael’s relationship through their hardships and highlights, making it perhaps the best video made about Roswell, New Mexico.

[being-of-rain]

Random thoughts from my Classic Who watch, this time season 9.

The Daleks return in Day of the Daleks! And boy do they not do much! I feels like easily the poorest Dalek story so far because they just have other people do the commanding (the Controller) and the fighting (the Ogrons). They don’t realise the Doctor is involved until the final cliffhanger, and in the whole story I think they only kill two people in the final episode, and one of them was their own man. I guess I can just be glad there was a 5 year break from them, something we can only dream of today. On the other hand, the plot with someone going back in time to change time but instead accidentally create the timeline that they’re now living in is fun! It’s just a shame that it was rushed so quickly in the last episode, and ends really suddenly rather than dwelling on things. The leader of the rebels, Anat, was a very interesting character, and I really wonder if she was originally written as a man in the script. So far in my watch, it’s been very rare to see a woman in the middle of the action who doesn’t quickly go to pieces, so Anat was refreshing. The Ogrons are a pretty racist design, and is the Doctor stopping to shoot them the most bloodthirsty the Doctor ever gets on the show? But it was quite unintentially funny when the Ogrons had their first bits of dialogue; the first one speaks slowly and deliberately, and then the next one casually says his short line as a normal human would. It gave the impression that the first Ogron was just messing with the Controller for fun. There were some other funny moments in the story, like when Yates announced the Doctor and Jo have vanished when, unlike all the other people who had literally vanished into thin air, the Doctor and Jo had just been tied up in the cellar. Also the Doctor attempting to escape on a trike that turns out to be about the same speed if not slower than the guards chasing him. Altogether a pretty meh story, but at least it isn’t 6 parts.

As I think I mentioned in my thoughts on this year’s Peladon audio series, I do love The Curse of Peladon, if only because of its approach to aliens and how they’re not all evil. A low bar I know, but the format of Doctor Who obviously made it hard to follow through on it. But this follows in the footsteps of season 7 and has a collection of friendly alien ambassadors, and the Ice Warriors aren’t the ones that turn out to be evil! Villainous Doctor Who species as a good guy is still one of my favourite tropes in the show. So I didn’t get along with the politics in Brian Hayles’ first Ice Warrior story, but he may yet win me round. It’ll never not be ironic to me that Big Finish took the villain in this story who replaced the Ice Warriors as the baddie, and make his whole species a monolith of evil and greed instead. I don’t have a lot to say about the plot of this one, because I wanted to do a post about it some time from Alpha Centauri’s point of view, which is hilarious. Oh Jo never really gets used to the whole travelling to other planets thing, but it is amazing how quickly she gets into the role of princess of Earth.

For a serial with such incredibly iconic moments and designs, I really didn’t know much about what happens in The Sea Devils. I didn’t realise that the Doctor tries to negotiate a peace with the Sea Devils just like he did with the Silurians, that was sweet. And almost succeeded too, if not for the extraordinarily hateable Secretary character. Interesting that the Brigadier wasn’t in this one. Predictably, this story has a lot of fun with the Doctor and the Master’s dynamic as well, which is really one of the best things you can do with a Master story, I love it. I also love the small moment when the Master tries to hypnotise a navy man but fails because he’s too strong-willed. If the Master succeeded every hypnosis except for the main characters that’d feel like a bit of a cop-out. Jo absolutely rocks her outfit this story, and the few seconds she’s shown riding a motorcycle is incredibly hot. If a bit dangerous because I know Katy Manning needed glasses jdskjhfksdjf. When she (literally) breaks the Doctor out of prison is phenomenal, I love how she expertly pulls off her plan, and communicates with the Doctor by miming through the window. You can really see her spy training at work. Finally, there’s some wild incidental music in Doctor Who (the original Silurians is a classic) but I think The Sea Devils might actually take the award for the most... incomprehensible? Just a bunch of random sounds?

I quite liked The Mutants, even if it could’ve been a little shorter. As has become obvious, I do like sci-fi stories that feel very real, in characters’ motivations and flaws. Very human. The human empire shrinking and letting a planet go but some of the officials being unable to accept it. The Marshal’s monstrous schemes casually being dictated from his administration space station as he gets more unhinged by the episode trying to cling to power. I love how Cotton and Stubbs, the guards sent after the Doctor & co, very quickly decide to defect and help them. Stooges of empire that just needed a moral push. The scientist Jaeger, on the other hand, you can see struggle with the morality of the situation, but never takes the final steps himself to actually confronting it. And on top of that, this is probably the most interesting use of the ‘sent on a mission by the Time Lords’ story premise in the show. The package the Doctor is given to deliver provides a series of questions and troubles to overcome throughout the serial, and in the end play a large role in the way everything wraps up. I liked it! Oh, and I laughed for ages at Jo performing the most efficient and effective “oh no guard I’m sick!” trick ever. She complains until a guard walks over to her, then just straight-up snatches it out of his hands before he can do anything else.

The Time Monster is so camp and ridiculous. Very fun. I also really can’t think of much to say on it. It’s been a few weeks since I watched it because I procrastinated writing up these thoughts, which is why this post might be a bit all over the place. But that’s probably what these posts are like anyway. There are so many great iconic moments in The Time Monster. Immediately starting off with the Doctor’s dream of the Master. “I’m sorry about your coccyx too, Ms Grant.” The Doctor’s time scanner device looking Like That. Jo’s ancient Aegean makeover. Galleia’s whole deal (she’s petting a black cat in her first scene, I love her). The Master even gets to sit on proper a throne for a few minutes! Good for him. The scene a little later when he double-dog-dares the Doctor to destroy them but he can’t because it’d kill Jo, but then Jo who the Master’s holding captive goes and does it for him, is metal. And then Kronos being a giant lady face is maybe my favourite use of CSO is classic who (which isn’t like saying a Lot, but whatever). Overall, good story, and good series!

[harryhandstan]

prompt: harry wakes up early on starbucks cup release days and surprises you by buying all the ones he thinks you’ll like. he’s usually able to escape the paps but this time they catch him and he ends up having to explain it in his next interview and gets all shy and can’t stop blushing.

a/n: hello all!! first I want to apologize for my 4 month long writing absence. life just has not been kind to me lately and unfortunately zapped a lot of my creativity energy, but I’m happy to have something done now! hopefully I can continue and keep a more consistent schedule for the remainder of this year!

immense thank you’s are owed to my kind friends @tobesolonely and @meetmymouth for the encouragement to find my creative spark for writing again and for being amazing betas! and to @taintedwonder for the lovely idea! @theharriediaries​ was so sweet to beta for me as well!!

word count: 2.1k

writing tag | masterlist | tiktok inspo 

Harry was usually smarter than this. He had a schedule, a plan, a way to get in and out pretty quickly without being seen. 

But today, he’d lingered too long at the mugs, curious if you’d want one of those as well. Your go-to was iced coffee, even year round in the winter you would prefer something cold over anything warm. He was thinking though, of the nights you were stressed and wanted a cup of soothing tea before bed, or those slower mornings where you don’t have to rush and a mug of coffee fits nicely in your hand while he admires you from across the kitchen table.

By the time he’s decided that yes, you do need this mug with the pastel rainbow print to add to your collection, along with a few of the other cups he thinks you’ll adore and a fresh bag of your favorite flavor of coffee, there’s already a small crowd of people forming in the lobby of the coffee shop and he hopes that he can get through them without being recognized as usual; prays that it’s only the regulars filing in for an early morning fix of caffeine before they rush off to start their day.

The barista thankfully is quick, skillfully giving him his total before rushing off to make the drinks he ordered for the two of you as well. He sees the way her eyes keep darting to him though, knows after years of experience that she knows who he is and is trying to work up the courage to say something to him or ask for a photo. He almost considers offering, she’s been so nice not to draw any attention to him, maybe something discreet could be pulled off. 

In the end he chooses not to, not wanting to assume that’s why she keeps looking over at him. It could be that he still has the hood of his sweatshirt tucked over his beanie or the fact that he’s now walking out of the shop with a small handful of the brown shopping bags with the familiar green logo imprinted on the front.

He breathes a sigh of relief when he makes it back to his car without anyone stopping him. He’s so distracted by securing the bags in the backseat he fails to hear the small clicks of the camera not too far away.

There’s a small comfort in the quietness of your shared apartment when he returns. While he loves coming home to the sound of you dancing around the kitchen making breakfast, his favorite is getting to wake you up himself. There’s a sweet softness in the way the side of your face rests against your pillow, mouth parted slightly and a gentle snore vibrating through your chest. It never fails to make him smile. He cherished the way you inhale faintly, stretching your limbs before blinking a few times, adjusting to the new day you’re waking up to. If he was there, already awake, your eyes always found him before anything else.

This morning is no different, except for the confusion on your face when you find him sitting on the edge of the bed instead of snuggled next to you. 

“You’re up to something, I can tell.”  You’re propped up enough now to accept the coffee he’s holding out for you. You take a few small sips, sighing and letting your head fall back against the headboard as you savor the taste.

“M’that easy to read, huh?” He chuckles, his hand on your thigh now, warming your skin even through the blanket, “Well..would you like your surprise here or will you be joining me in the kitchen while I make you breakfast?”

“Oh I get a surprise and breakfast today? What’s the occasion? Little early for my birthday, H.” 

“Don’t need an occasion to spoil my girl, do I?”

“I guess not.” 

You shrug, trying not to let the guilt bubble up enough to where it flashes across your face. One of his loudest love languages had always been gift giving, a quality about him you thought was wonderful, but still had a hard time accepting. You had to be careful about mentioning things you may want around Harry, he would use any excuse to treat you.

He’s rambling off his reasoning already as he leads you into the kitchen and settles you in one of the tall chairs next to the counter. He always ends his explanation with “I know you told me not to, but…” followed up by what you’re sure to him sounds like a very logical justification for why you need/deserve whatever he was gifting you. There’s nothing out of the ordinary of your regular kitchen set up this morning though, so you do what you normally do when he announces a surprise for you; let him take the lead, not wanting to take away from his excitement. 

“So..surprise or breakfast first?” He stands on the other side of the counter now, his hoodie and beanie discarded, wearing a t-shirt you were sure you bought for yourself but he seems to have laid claim to.

“Breakfast, please. If you don’t mind.” 

“‘Course not. Any requests, baby?”

Your heart flutters for a moment, just as it does each time he uses that particular term of affection for you. He’s already opened the refrigerator, scanning over options for what he could make for the two of you. You recover long enough to tell him no, that whatever he wants to make would be fine, sitting back and enjoying the view as he cracks a few eggs into a bowl.

You don’t even notice that you’re staring until he turns and catches your eye, “What? Did I get a shell in the eggs or something?”

You giggle as he even picks up the clear bowl of eggs that he’s already scrambled and seasoned, even going so far as to swirl his finger through the liquid to double check before you can stop him.

“No, it’s just..I can’t get over the fact that you’re making breakfast for me while wearing my t-shirt.”

“S’it yours?” He glances down at it, “Thought it was mine, sorry..”

There’s a smirk on his face as he turns back to the stove, and you know just by seeing that he knows you don’t mind; you love seeing him in your clothes as much as he adores seeing you in his.  

It’s not long before he’s presenting you with a plate, sitting next to you with his own plate in front of him. When you don’t immediately dig in, he leans over to inspect the food, worried that maybe he’d overdone the eggs or your toast was slightly more brown than you liked. 

So when you say, “You’ve forgotten something very important, haven’t you?” he panics, thinking maybe he should’ve taken the time to include fruit to balance the meal. You take pity on him, not making him wait too long before you lean in and he instantly softens, realizing what you’re asking for. 

He meets you the rest of the way, lips soft against yours, the taste of the coffee you’ve both had lingering for a moment before he pulls away, “Very important. How could I ever have forgotten?”

When you’ve both finished eating, he downs the last of his coffee and stacks your now empty plates to take to the sink, pecking your forehead with another quick kiss, “Alright, close your eyes. Count to 20.”

You begin to count off in your head, and you hear his voice, a bit further away, “Out loud, angel.”

There’s a rustling of bags getting closer as you count, and you can even hear a few clinks as they come closer. You can feel him moving around you, positioning things perfectly for when you open your eyes. 

He’s still behind you when you finish counting, hands squeezing your shoulders to urge you to open your eyes. When you do, you immediately recognize the bags and know exactly what he’s done.

“Oh no. Absolutely not. This is too much, Harry. I let you spoil me with little things here and there, but I cannot accept this.”

Sitting in front of you are..you stop to count them now; 1, 2, 3, 4..6 bags from Starbucks. You know from experience that each one of them contains 2 cups or mugs. You’re sure at least one of them also includes your favorite roast of coffee. He had done this before around Christmas time, when you’d mentioned how adorable a few of the ones from the holiday collection had been, not thinking that he would go back later without you and buy all the ones you’d touched or admired.  

He ignores your refusal, “You can take back any you don’t like. Go on,” He peeks inside one of the bags closest to him and then pushes it closer to you, “Start with this one.”

“Harry, really..”

“Don’t think, just open. If you really won’t accept any of them then I’ll take ‘em back and buy you something from somewhere else.”

“That’s not what I meant and you know it.” You try your best to look serious, but you can’t stop the smile from spreading across your face, “Thank you, H.”

You finally go through most of the bags, offering oohs and ahhs and even a few squeals of joy at certain ones. 

“I think I got all the ones you’d pick for yourself. Saw you eyeing one or two the other day and the others I just guessed.”

He had done very well in choosing for you, even going so far as to get the two of you a matching pair of the kind that changed colors with the temperature. 

“For our smoothies.” He explains when you give him a particularly soft look at the idea of matching with him. 

“Also got us a matching set of these,” He skips to the last bag, too eager to wait for you to open it yourself, revealing the mug he’d taken the extra time to select, “For our Sunday morning tea. Or if you change your mind and ever want a hot coffee.”

All you can do is repeat the same expression of gratitude as before you had opened them, “Thank you again, H. I love them all, really. No more though, alright? We’re running out of cabinet space. Did you go to our regular spot or a different one so you wouldn’t be recognized?” 

“Different one. Can’t believe I wasn’t spotted though. Must’ve been too early for the paps to be out and about.”

“Or maybe you aren’t as interesting as you think you are, babe. Harry Styles coming out of a Starbucks is old news now.” 

His eyebrows shoot up in mock surprise, “Oh is it now?”

“Mhmm. You’re just plain boring now, H.” You shrug, peeling at the price tag on the bottom of one of the cups, avoiding his gaze; knowing if you look at him you’ll break into a fit of laughter. 

He’s impossibly calm, just like he is before any interview he does. 

You sit across the room from where he’s currently getting his hair done. The stylist was nervous, understandably so, her hands unsure at first. It only takes a few moments of being near Harry; working his quiet, delicate magic of putting anyone he’s near at ease. By the time his hair is finished he’s pulled a few laughs from her and she leaves the room with a big beaming smile and a wave to the both of you.

Now that you’re alone again, he beckons you closer and tugs you down to sit in his lap, despite your protests of the possibility of wrinkling his incredibly expensive suit. 

“Don’t care,” He leans up to press a kiss to your neck, keeping his face tucked there in your warmth, “Just want you close for a moment.”

Normally you would run your fingers through his hair, but you don’t dare do that now, hand drifting to the side of his face instead, “Not nervous are you, H?”

He lets you gently push him back enough to see his face again, “Never. Just happy to have you here with me, that’s all.”   

It’s not until he’s in front of the audience, presented with the evidence of just a few days before, displayed on a screen for all to see. He had been caught, despite his confidence of getting away. He falters for only a beat, head down in hopes to hide the blush spreading high along his cheeks. He finds you in the crowd, sending a bright smile your way before he shrugs, turning his attention back to the host.

“What can I say? My sunshine likes her coffee.” 

//

tag list: @harrysblackcoat​, @summertime-pills​ 

thank you for reading!! as always likes, rbs, and feedback is welcome and appreciated!!

[jackrrabbit]

cuffing season /// Ushijima x f!Reader (18+)

Summary: [Shiratorizawa fanweek day 5—Firsts] You convince your boyfriend to try something new in the bedroom, but as it turns out, old habits die hard.

A/N: Heard it was Shiratorizawa week 👀 technically I did originally post this on day 5, but I had to repost bc of tag issues, whoops :P Let’s pray it works this time!! edit: apparently it’s still not listed in the tags :<

The song that I mention is Bruno Major’s Old Fashioned (although it doesn’t fit the tone of this fic in the least).

Tags/warnings: mild bondage, size kink, rough sex!!!, marking (bruises/hickeys/etc.), power play/power exchange, reader tries & fails to dom Mr. Ushijima 😳, all characters are adults

Look, Ushijima’s a great boyfriend. Perfect, almost. Sure, he may not be the most expressive guy, but you’ve been dating him long enough that you’re able to pick up on the little gestures that tell you that he cares about you—the way he presses his face into your hair when you hug him after you’ve been apart for a while; his hands stroking circles into your skin when you fall asleep in bed next to him; all of it. He’s everything you could possibly look for in a man, except for one not-so-little issue:

The sex.

Because Ushijima, your sweet, wonderful boyfriend, who kisses you so gently it’s like he thinks you’ll fall apart if he’s not infinitely careful with you, is for some reason incapable of exercising the same degree of restraint (or any restraint at all) when you’re in bed together. When it comes to sex, your boyfriend is a fucking animal. And you’re not really sure how much more you can handle.

Maybe your concerns would seem petty from an outsider’s perspective. It’s not like Ushijima doesn’t take ‘no’ for an answer, and it’s not like you don’t want to have sex. You’re attracted to him, of course you are! Almost 76 inches and 190 pounds of pure muscle, a body that looks like Michelangelo could have carved it from marble, and that beautifully solemn expression that had you salivating over him from the stands before you even knew his name? You want to have sex with him, you’re just fairly certain you can’t, not when it always ends up with you completely and utterly wrecked, so spent you don’t even have the strength to lift your hips off the mattress so he can wipe his cum off your thighs.

Look, anyone in your position would feel the same way. It’s awful and you’ll never admit it to him, but you almost broke up with him after the first time you two fucked. You knew going in that it wouldn’t be easy—the man radiates big dick energy and boy did he deliver—but it was just too much.

That first time had started off so innocuously, with you inviting him to your place for a nightcap after your sixth date. You’d set candles and put on your romantic sex playlist for a nice backdrop to let him hold you in his lap and make out—how the hell had you gone from that to having him rut you into the mattress, your belly pressed into the sheets and ass arched up so he could pound into you so forcefully that your rickety bed smacked into the wall hard enough to rattle the furniture with every movement, and you couldn’t even hear it over the sound of your own moaning? You hadn’t changed the playlist, and it felt downright obscene to listen to Bruno Major croon about love and courtship while Ushijima fucked into you like he was trying to carve the shape of his cock into your pussy.

You’d had to call in sick the next day because you could barely walk. The bruises from where he held your hips had taken weeks to fade, and by that time he’d already given you new ones. To his credit, Ushijima felt bad when he saw the evidence of how rough he’d been and he promised to take it easy on you next time…but after a few more rounds of mind-numbingly savage sex you learned that the man apparently doesn’t know what ‘take it easy’ means.

To be fair, at least some of it is your fault. You really shouldn’t have offered to go on the pill as a three-month anniversary present to him. At least before, he had to give you a break while he changed condoms after he came; now he has no reason to hesitate, instead going for round two (and sometimes round three) without pulling out. You never thought you’d see superhuman stamina as a bad thing, but…

“You don’t get it! It’s like getting fucked by a stallion. I need to plan to have three days to recover whenever I take him home with me,” you whined to your friends over cocktails when they told you you shouldn’t complain about a good thing—after all, Ushijima is just as committed to your pleasure as he is to his own, and there’s never been an occasion where he didn’t get you off before fucking you himself (probably at least a little because there’s no way in hell you’d be relaxed enough to take him otherwise).

“Can’t you just tell him to go slower?” one of your friends asked. “If he doesn’t listen to you, then that’s fucked up and you need to dump him.”

“It’s not that he doesn’t listen. If I tell him to stop, he stops,” you sighed, stirring your drink with the straw and watching the decorative sprig of mint fall under the surface to be overtaken by a chip of ice. “It’s like he can’t go slower. He’s not adjustable—it’s either crazy brutal or nothing, and then neither of us get what we want. Like a vibrator you can’t turn off the highest level. I don’t even think he realizes in the moment how intense it is for me.”

“Aren’t you ever on top? You can set the pace.”

“I’ve tried, but Ushi just—“ you made a gripping motion with your hands and mimicked raising something up and setting it down vigorously— “like, bounces me.”

One of them raised an eyebrow and then her eyes widened. She turned to your other friend and the two of them whispered to each other for a bit, then shifted back to you. “Tie him up,” she said with the air of an elder imparting sage knowledge, and your other friend nodded.

“Oh, come on.” You rolled your eyes.

“I’m serious. Guys usually love it when girls are in control, you just need to take the initiative. Get him tied down and then you can show him exactly how you like it. Let him feel like he’s at your mercy for once.”

The idea had seemed unthinkable at the time, but you hadn’t been able to forget it—which is why after weeks of contemplation, hours of research, and a single extremely awkward trip to a sex shop, you’re now crouching over Ushijima’s naked chest, wrapping a leather cuff around one of his wrists.

“Are you sure that this is something you want to do?” Ushijima asks in that weighty baritone that makes you shiver with need. He doesn’t pull away, but he eyes your actions warily as you thread the chain of the cuffs around a rung in the center of your headboard and reach over to do the other side.

“…Yes,” you tell him, a little less firmly than you would have liked, and you lick your lips to try to make up for how suddenly dry your mouth is. “Anyway, isn’t that my line? We don’t have to do the cuffs if you don’t want to. I won’t force you.”

“It’s alright. You and I both know you couldn’t force me, (Y/N).” Dark eyes pin you down and it’s incredibly unfair how much power he has over you even when he’s the one chained to the bed.

Ushijima’s right, obviously—if he didn’t want to be exactly where he is right now, he wouldn’t be. You’re sure as hell not strong enough to force him to do anything he doesn’t want to, but he didn’t have to say it like that.

“Okay then…good,” you reply, adjusting the straps of the cuffs to accommodate for how stupidly thick his wrists are. When you’re satisfied that they won’t chafe but he can’t get out of them without your help, you sit back next to his chest and admire your handiwork. Ushijima lays on his back, naked, relaxed, even with his arms stretched up to your headboard and cuffed there. He looks good, mouthwateringly good, and you’re ready to get your hands on him when you remember there’s something you need to get straight first. “Wait, before we—before I do anything, remember— what do you say if you want me to stop?”

“…Vanilla,” Ushijima says, reciting the safeword you decided on when you were hammering out details, although the look in his half-lidded eyes is telling you very clearly that he has no intention of needing to use it.

Privately you agree, but everything you’ve read on the kink blogs you’ve been trolling for research tells you that a responsible adult doesn’t put cuffs on their partner without deciding on a safeword first, and you’re determined to do this by the book. “Good boy,” you say, and the diminutive feels awkward in your mouth until you see Ushijima’s reaction—the flash in his eyes, a minuscule hitch in his breathing next to you, and the scrape of metal against wood as he gives a light pull at the cuffs.

With everything safe and accounted for, you give a final tug to the chain to ensure it’s secure, then inch back and swing one leg over the broad expanse of his chest so you’re straddling his abdomen (and he’s so damn big that there’s a twinge of soreness in your thighs just from sitting on top of him). Fuck, he looks good like this, all spread out and pinned underneath you, so masculine and bulky that you’re feeling your pussy get wet just from watching him watching you.

It’s not often you get to appreciate him like this—usually you’re too focused on not losing your mind from how deeply he’s fucking you—so you savor it, massaging his shoulders and sliding your fingers down his sides, tracing the smooth skin with a feather-light touch and then dipping to kiss under his jaw. Feeling more than a little devious, you let your teeth graze over the thin skin at the base of his neck and with your chest pressed into his, it’s not hard to feel his sharp intake of breath.

“The marks...my teammates will notice.”

“Maybe I should stop, then,” you murmur against his skin, lifting up just enough to brush over his nipples. He stiffens, and once again you hear him tugging at the cuffs.

“…Don’t. I want them to see,” Ushijima says, and once you have his permission you don’t waste any time in latching your mouth to his skin and sucking. It’s been ages since you’ve given anyone a hickey. Usually you’re the one marked up like a teenager after Ushijima has his way with you, so this is a nice change of pace, especially when you can feel him flexing underneath you.

Well, kissing is nice…but you’re getting impatient and you know he is too. Once you’re satisfied that your hickeys are going to show up nice and bright red around his neck like a collar, you sit back, walking your hands back on his chest, stroking over his abdomen and giving a little roll of your ass on top of him. Ushijima’s hips twitch—unconsciously, you wonder?—and he glares at you in a way that tells you in no uncertain terms to hurry up and let him fuck you.

And damn it, something about that look has you feeling weak. Needy. Obedient. But this time you’re supposed to be in charge, so you smirk and lift your hips, pulling your body back so his cock is nestled between your legs, not quite touching your pussy. He’s already hard—no surprises there, considering how intently he’s watching you as you mess with him—but you only take a second to stroke his cock up and down before shifting up so he can see you slick your fingers up in your own pussy.

“(Y/N)…” Ushijima’s voice is low, annoyed, and he looks hungry. But you’re so amazed at how wet you are under your own fingers that you don’t bother to pay attention to him shifting his position under you to try to get stimulation. Your juices are literally slicking up your own thighs, just from chaining up your boyfriend and teasing him a little? You should have done this a long time ago.

You push two fingers into your pussy and pump them a few times, making sure to angle your hips so Ushijima can see them go in and out. The stretch is almost uncomfortable for a second and you wince a little before schooling your expression, knowing you’re about to have something a lot bigger than two fingers stretching you open. Ushijima catches it though, and he frowns, trying to sit up before remembering the cuffs that are holding him back. “Let me—let me do it for you—“

“No, stay down,” you say quickly, using your other hand to push him back into the mattress while you continue to touch yourself. Ushijima lets you (and there’s no doubt in your mind that he is letting you), but his eyes narrow as he zeroes in on the way your fingers are glistening with your own pussy juices.

God, you’re—you’re supposed to be in control, aren’t you? So then you shouldn’t be feeling like this, eyes drifting closed as you fuck yourself on your fingers, letting your lower knuckles rub against your clit while you try to curl them to rub against your g-spot. Ushijima’s been spoiling you…you can’t remember the last time you’ve had to do this yourself, and as you feel the tension building up slowly you catch yourself wishing it were him fingering you instead.

His fingers are just so thick. And long, and so rough. You bite your lip thinking about the way he does it when he preps you to take his cock, mashing his palm into your clit, petting along inside you and scissoring his fingers and… “Mmh,” you hum, holding back a real moan for Ushijima’s sake.

There’s another click of the chain sliding over the headboard wood and it reminds you that he’s right there, you could just uncuff him and he could touch you and fill you up with those thick fingers, make you cum, make you cry. But the urge to seek your own pleasure is outweighed by the image he’s making as he looks at you, his expression almost angry in its intensity now that he’s watching you do this to yourself and he has no way to get his hands on you.

“Ahh—“ you whine, letting a real whimper out at the thought of what you’re doing to him. “Ushi, Ushi, do you wanna touch? Wanna touch me?”

His head ducks into a hasty nod and his jaw clenches at the strain of having to ask for what he wants instead of just taking it like usual.

The longer you touch yourself, the closer you’re getting…but you don’t want to cum, not just yet. You draw your fingers out of your dripping cunt and open them up in a V, showing off the juices that connect them, the evidence of how wet you are for him. “Mmm, I don’t think so. I think there’s something else I want in me instead.”

And then you’re reaching to the side for the lube, squeezing a healthy dollop into your palm and then wrapping your hand around Ushiijma’s cock. And—fuck, he’s big. Sure, you’ve had sex with him plenty, but no matter how often you take him, you never stop feeling absolutely torn up after. A tingle of trepidation races up your spine at the thought of riding him like this—can you even put it in by yourself?

Even just looking at it is intimidating. He’s painfully hard, cock flushed red and bobbing up against his lower stomach every time you let it go, and, Jesus, how is it even possible that this thing would fit inside you? When you wrap your hand around him your fingers don’t touch; he must be thicker around than your own wrist.

Halfway. That’ll going to be your goal tonight, to take him halfway. And even that…is going to be a stretch.

The anxiety must show on your face because once again you’ve got Ushijima straining at the cuffs. “(Y/N)—“ he spits as you stroke him up, nudging your palm against the tip. “(Y/N), you need to finish first. Let me make you cum.”

“No, this time I want to—I’m gonna cum on your cock,” you say, adjusting your position so you’re kneeling above him, the head of his cock sliding between your lips. “Gonna cum on your big cock, Ushi, okay?”

His cock jumps in your hand at the provocation. He’s glaring at you, but he’s also leaking precum, the sticky fluid mixing with the lubricant. You give Ushijima a moment to say the safeword if he really doesn’t want you to, and when he stays quiet you raise yourself up a little more and line the head of his cock up with your weeping slit. You hold your pussy lips open with your fingers, easing your thighs down and pressing the head into you and—

“Oh—oh—oh, fuck, oh fuck, Ushi—“ you stutter out helplessly.

It’s been almost two weeks since he last fucked you. One week, six days and about three hours, and at the moment this measure of time seems unreasonably important because it’s been almost two weeks since you last let Ushijima split you in half with his ridiculously huge cock.

You’re not ready, should’ve prepped more, should’ve let him make you cum like he said—fuck, it feels like you’re losing your virginity—and the mixture of dismay and relief that spills over you when the thick swell of his head pushes past that tight ring of muscle is almost nauseating.

The tip? Seriously, just the fucking tip, and you’re already delirious, shaking, your thighs quivering on either side of his. It’s taking all of your strength to keep from going slack—but you know if you do, his whole cock is going to slide up into you and even thinking about that has your cunt clenching and unclenching around what you’re able to fit inside.

“Do you need help?” Despite the strain in Ushijima’s voice at being teased like this, there’s an undercurrent of amusement. He clearly doesn’t have faith in your ability to take him deeper by yourself.

It’s this—this quiet arrogance, this belief that he knows what’s best for you and he’s the only one who can give it to you—that gives you the guts to convince yourself to lower yourself down onto his his cock until you’re literally gasping for air. It fucking hurts, but you’re not going to give him the satisfaction of hearing you say it; instead, you brace your hands against the stiff muscle of his chest and try to focus on the way his cockhead is pressing into your g-spot.

Halfway…he’s gotta be at least halfway in, right? You sneak a glance up at him and bite back a curse at the look on his face, serious as ever, so focused on the place where your pussy is reluctantly eating up his cock that you feel your insides tense up around him again.

You don’t even know how it’s possible for you to get tighter around him but somehow you must be able to, because you hear Ushijima grunt underneath you, and his muscles contract under your palms as he tries again to sit up. When he can’t, he hisses in frustration. “Move…now. Or I won’t be able to control myself.”

Funny, aren’t you supposed to be the one controlling him? But it sure as hell doesn’t feel that way when you’re barely able to stay upright just from trying to ride his cock. You nod desperately, chin jutting up and down like a bobblehead, and lift your hips up off his cock until just the tip is left inside. When you push yourself back down you can’t help whimpering at the feeling of him stretching you, sliding up into you, that stiff, wet cockhead dragging over your g-spot.

By now the pain has faded into an uncomfortable stretch, like leaning too heavily into a foreign pose in yoga, enough that you’re able to feel the arousal building in the pit of your belly and hold onto it as you rock your hips up and down him. The pace is slow—almost too slow; you marvel at yourself for wanting it faster—and there’s a fair amount of Ushijima’s cock that you’re not able to take, but this is really all you can handle.

“Mmm, Ushi, fuck, you’re so big, so big and hard inside me, feels so good on your cock—“ you moan, knowing you sound less like the dominant partner in this position and more like you’re teasing him, pushing his limits.

Ushijima’s breathing is heavy. Labored. He’s trying to hold himself back. “(Y/N), deeper—take me deeper, now.”

Part of your brain vaguely recognizes that he isn’t supposed to be giving the orders here, but you’re too drunk on the feeling of fucking yourself on his cock to complain, so you lower your hips and try, but it feels like you’re just too weak to do it yourself. “Ushi please, it’s too much, too big, I can’t, please—“

And your pleading must sound like an invitation, because his eyes flash and you feel him shifting the position of his legs behind you—and then he bucks his hips up and his cock sinks into your cunt, pushing up into your gooey insides until the head is pressing into the tight opening of your cervix.

“Ahn—?” you squeal, startled. What? He—what? Fuck, it’s deep, it’s so deep, you can’t hold yourself up so you flop downward, holding onto his shoulders for dear life, “ohhh Ushi pleasepleaseplease” and you barely hear yourself over the lubed-up slap of his pelvis against your skin.

Fuck, it feels like he’s knocking the breath out of you. Feels like you can’t fucking breathe like his cock isn’t just pushing against your stomach but your lungs too, can’t breathe so you bear down on his shoulders try to hold yourself up try to let yourself adjust but—

Ushijima’s in control now.

Not that he ever wasn’t, you’d think if you were capable of thinking except you’re not because as you try to situate yourself make yourself relax around that monster cock filling you up, he’s not giving you a moment to catch your breath, instead thrusting up into you at his usual breakneck pace. Apparently he doesn’t need to use his hands to make you bounce—you’re not even moving yourself now, just trying to hold still as his hips slam his cock inside you again and again and again, and again, rubbing up against that sweet spot in your pussy so quickly that you think you might go crazy from it.

“Nngh, so tight,” he growls, and you can tell from the way the words are choked out that he’s gritting his teeth. You almost want to roll your eyes—of course you’re tight, anyone would feel tight around him—but it feels like if you do your eyes might roll back in your head so you don’t.

Jesus fuck, you can’t even understand how long it’s been but you do know that it’s absurd for you to want to cum already, only the thick mass of his cock pushing into you is somehow hitting all the right buttons, just like it always does. Even if it’s rough you want more. By now you’re trying to meet his thrusts, rolling your hips in time with him fucking you open, doing your best to participate but really it’s all you can do to even stay still with how roughly he’s fucking you. “Ushi, fuck, so deep, wanna cum I wanna cum please let me cum—“

“Touch yourself,” he commands breathlessly because he’s still tied to the headboard and he can’t do it, and you barely have the strength to pick one of your hands up off of where you’re scratching into his shoulder and pull it down to rub at your clit.

It’s not enough and you whimper desperately, you don’t want your own fingers, you want Ushijima’s, you want him to touch you. You’re probably saying it out loud by now, begging him to put his hands on you—his eyes widen and then the sound of the metal cuff chain grating over wood reaches you—you can see the skin of his wrists get lighter from lack of blood flow, he’s pulling at the cuffs, pulling too hard, he’s going to hurt himself, you have to stop him—and then you hear a snap.

Aw, shit. The bed.

The thought comes in a singular moment of clarity as you watch the rung Ushijima’s chained to separate itself from the rest of the headboard, splintering, the nail that held it in place looking pathetically flimsy next to the veins bulging in his arms as he slides the chain away from it. He flexes his hands, forming fists and then unclenching them to restore the interrupted blood flow, and then you’ve only got a second to prepare yourself before he’s upright, dragging your hips up to meet his.

“Ushi, Ushi, Ushi, I want, please, I want you,” you beg, but you didn’t really have to because you’re pretty sure there’s no force on Earth that could stop him from holding you up so he can fuck down into you with a ferocity that could be mistaken for anger if you weren’t certain it was really lust.

The entire bed is creaking and rocking against the force of his movement, but you don’t really have the headspace to worry about more property damage considering he’s got you supporting yourself on the mattress on your back and shoulders, your spine curled up so he can kneel and still have your hips aligned with his, your legs dangling bonelessly on either side of him.

Fuck. Holy fuck. You open your mouth but words don’t come out, only a choked whimper, but if you could speak you’d be saying yesyesyesyesyes, touch me.

Despite your inability to speak, Ushijima picks up on what you need and then along with his cock carving its way in and out of you you’re getting the feeling of his fingers padding over your clit. Rough and callused, not gentle, nothing like the way you touched yourself earlier, but you’re starting to realize you don’t mind the aggression. In fact, it’s good, it’s so good, so good you’re gonna cum.

You’re gonna cum.

A long, drawn-out whine is spilling out of your lips before you can stop it; you wrap your hand over your own mouth out of shame or maybe courtesy to your neighbors (although by now they’ve probably invested in earplugs after listening to you squeal like a pig on Ushijima’s cock dozens of times in the past). Still, as your climax rocks through you shove your thumb between your teeth to bite down on it, but the sharp pain is nothing compared to the pleasure.

“Ushiiiii—“ you sob around your own fingers. Your spine arches—or rather, you try to arch your back but you can’t, not with Ushijima’s full body weight pressing into you and keeping you pinned to the mattress.

It hurts, it feels good, you’re seeing stars, you’re hearing Ushijima snarl as your pussy tightens up and convulses on his cock. His one-handed grip on your ass gets painfully tight as he abandons whatever pretense of restraint he had left and pumps his cock into you so hard and fast you’re pretty sure the headboard isn’t going to be the only thing broken, but you don’t fucking care because you’re cumming, you’re cumming, you’re cumming so hard you think you black out for a second, holy fuck.

It’s only when you hear Ushijima’s panting breath and feel him pulling your hand away from your mouth that you regain your grip on reality. “You’re bleeding,” he says, holding your hand up and inspecting the shallow indentations your teeth made on your thumb.

“…You broke my bed,” you reply tiredly once you’ve gotten in a lungful of air, what feels like the first full breath you’ve been able to take since he put his cock inside you.

“I’m sorry,” Ushijima tells you, although he doesn’t look particularly sorry.

You roll your eyes. “Did you cum?”

“Yes. When you did.” Without him holding you up there’s nothing to prevent you from sliding down off his softening (but still unfairly impressive) cock. You’re certainly not strong enough to keep yourself in position.

Even if he hadn’t confirmed it, you’d still be able to feel the familiar heat of his semen plastering your insides, and once your still-sensitive pussy is exposed to the cool air your inner muscles squeeze involuntarily but hard enough to force some of his cum out—you sense it, hot and thick, dripping out of your pussy to smear against your thighs. “Can we take a bath?” you ask, knowing you’ll barely be able to walk over to the bathroom, much less stand under the shower unassisted.

Ushijima nods and moves off the bed. “I can carry you,” he adds when you try to stand up and your knees almost give out before you flop back onto the mattress.

At this angle, with you sitting and him standing in front, it’s difficult not to see that despite cumming literally less than two minutes ago, he’s already getting stiff again. Jesus, is he even human? After how hard you just came, the thought of letting him fuck you again is giving you something stronger than butterflies, but you look up at him and offer anyway. “Wait, do you…um, want to go for another round?”

Ushijima’s gaze meets yours and then travels over your body underneath him. You must look like a mess—sweaty, hair all fucked up and tangled, body still shaking with the aftershocks of your climax and barely able to sit comfortably on your aching pussy—and you guess he sees how jittery (nervous?) you feel because for the first time since your relationship started, he shakes his head to turn down an offer of sex. “No, I’ll take care of it. Let’s clean up first.”

“Okay,” you sigh, releasing a breath you didn’t realize you were holding and raising your arms to let him pick you up.

“(Y/N).”

When Ushijima doesn’t move to carry you, you frown. “Hm?”

“The cuffs.”

Oh, right. The black leather is wrapped around both of his wrists, chain still intact. Apparently these cuffs are stronger than your headboard. Good quality. Too bad they’re going in the trash. You make quick work of the release and then undo the straps carefully, massaging over the light pink marks on your boyfriend’s wrists once they’re free.

“Sorry, did it hurt you? I didn’t mean to—I mean, I just wanted…” You trail off, feeling infinitely embarrassed that despite all your claims of dominating him, he still ended up with the upper hand, cuffs or no cuffs. And you liked submitting to him. There’s no denying that.

“It didn’t. And…I enjoyed having you on top,” Ushijima tells you, lifting you effortlessly into a princess-carry now that his arms are free.

“Yeah right. We’re never using those again,” you scoff, tucking your head into his chest as he carries you to the bathroom. “My boss is going to get mad that I keep taking sick days every time I have sex with you. I’m just going to throw the cuffs out.”

From your position, so close to him, you can barely see the upward quirk of his mouth that would be as good as laughter for anyone else. “Don’t get rid of them. I think…next time, I would like to have you wearing them, (Y/N).”

Well, fuck.

[warcraft-lore-archives]

The Folk & Fairy Tales of Azeroth Lore Facts

Editor’s Note: “Some of the tales you’ll encounter here may be rooted in canon, or they may be another traveler just telling a tall tale.” 

Eyes of the Earth Mother

Though the Earth Mother heard the whispers of the Old Gods, she could not be swayed by them (13).

Pregnant, the Earth Mother sought a place away from the Old Gods’ corruptive influence to give birth to her children. Unable to find such a place, however, she decided to shape the world and, in doing so, create her own safe haven (14). 

All of Azeroth’s lands, waters, and even the elements themselves came forth at this moment. They were suffused with enough of the Earth Mother’s essence so soon after their inception that they kept the Old Gods’ powers at bay (14). 

The Earth Mother gave birth to twins: first An’she, a beacon of life and warmth, then came Mu’sha, who was to bring rest, tranquility, and healing. The elements called them the “sun” and the “moon” (15). 

Eventually, both An’she and Mu’sha developed connections with the elements. An’she found himself able to wield the light and warmth of fire while Mu’sha maintained some control over the tides and winds (15-16). 

The twins even went so far as to use the elements to create weapons to spar with. Mu’sha opted for a bow and arrow, whereas An’she’s weapon of choice was a set of blades (16).

To keep her children safe from the Old Gods’ ever-present influence while she slept, the Earth Mother took both An’she and Mu’sha up into her eyes. Their power was so great that she had to keep one eye open at all times (16).

This, however, meant that Azeroth no longer received An’she’s warmth or Mu’sha’s guidance of the wind while the Earth Mother rested. Cold slowly spread across the land and blizzards raged until she finally woke again (18).

The Earth Mother’s cycle between periods of sleep and awakening would come to form the basis of the seasons as we know them, with her time of work the summer and her time of rest the winter (18).

As the twins grew in power, they developed the ability to bring on the change of seasons at will, though they took care to do it slowly and give the world time to adjust. As the Earth Mother rested, An’she and Mu’sha continued to tend to Azeroth from behind her eyes (19). 

After waking at one point, the Earth Mother found that there was new life walking the earth. Plucking wheat from the plains to sprinkle over them, the Earth Mother called them “Shu’halo,” - the tauren (19).

Just as the Earth Mother taught her children, both An’she and Mu’sha taught the Shu’halo in the ways of the elements and caring for the land (20). 

When the Earth Mother next slept, however, the Old Gods extended their influence to the tauren, causing them to grow violent and turn on their own kind (20).

Saddened to see the tauren fall to such corruption, the Earth Mother shed a single tear. She realized that the land was no longer able to hold the Old Gods’ power at bay, meaning anything it touched could be corrupted (21). 

Knowing that she was not safe for her children anymore because of her own connection to the land, the Earth Mother removed An’she and Mu’sha from her eyes and laid down in despair (21-22). 

The single tear that the Earth Mother had shed became a blue baby, later named “Lo’sho,” or the Blue Child (22, 24). 

Seeking to put an end to the Old Gods after what they had done to the tauren and the despair they instilled in their mother, An’she and Mu’sha fought against some of the eldritch beings’ manifestations. During the battle, An’she was wounded grievously. Though Mu’sha sought to heal him with wind and water, he continued to bleed (24).

The Earth Mother, stirred by her distant children’s dismay, eventually found her way to them. She urged them to take Lo’sho and go to the heavens so they could protect Azeroth from above, while the Earth Mother chose to root herself in the earth and prevent the Old Gods from ever claiming her children (26-27).

Mu’sha, the moon, continues to follow An’she closely across the sky so she can keep tending to his wounds (26). 

One Small Tuskarr

The tuskarr etch their clan and family symbols into their tusks. Though this is customary, some do engrave other symbols - such as marks indicating deeds of great distinction - into their tusks as well (32, 36). 

The catch master, who weighs the tuskarr’s catches, has a counting staff adorned with cords in the colors of each of the clan’s active fishermen. In accordance with how big a tuskarr’s haul of fish is, the catch master ties a single knot or more into their respective cord. These knots can be traded for tools, weapons, and coins, among other things (32-33). 

A single knot is customary for those who meet basic requirements, while additional knots are allotted to those who catch more (33). 

One can also earn knots from other tasks, such as fine embroidery, though they do so at a much slower rate than those who fish (38). 

Food is shared equally among the tuskarr (33).

The tuskarr perform nomadic journeys that take them to various kalu’ak towns. While the fishers take their own boats, most of the mothers, adolescents, and children trek across the ice (34). 

Fishing practices are passed down from parent to child. Though it is unclear if that is “law,” some of the tuskarr refuse to teach others to fish if they are not their own blood, going so far as to withhold information about the currents and places fish gather (36).

Tuskarr sometimes dye their moustaches (36).

It never gets fully dark in Northrend (38).

Oacha’noa is the tuskarr’s deity of both the sea and wisdom. Her symbol is that of a kraken (39). 

The spearhead on most tuskarr weapons is made of sharpened bone (42).

A type of manta ray known as the stargazer can be found in Northrend’s waters (44).

The tuskarr can survive in water so cold it would kill other races native to Azeroth in mere minutes (45).

The tuskarr typically fly kites for fun, though they have been known to use them to send signals to others at great distances (48).

Lay Down My Bones

According to Vulpera beliefs, the first of their kind was born from the magic of the desert. Though they are a nomadic people, an old tale about an artifact called the Wailing Bone claims the desert calls their bodies back to where they began when they die. To ensure they find their way back, the vulpera follow the Wailing Bone (55-56). 

Once one of their own has passed, it is customary for the next of kin to carry the bone at the head of the caravan while the vulpera wander in search of the proper place to bury them. The journey may take anywhere from days to weeks, but when the Wailing Bone begins to cry, the vulpera know they have found their loved one’s final resting place (56, 61). 

A poem is carved into the Wailing Bone: “Wander, roam; bring me home, / Down paths at my behest; / Among the stones, lay down my bones, / So I, at last, may rest”. Few can read the script it is written in, but most all vulpera can recite it from heart (54). 

Two vulpera, frustrated at their inability to find their elder’s final resting place, neglected their duty and left his corpse in a river in the hopes that it would bring him there for them. Refusing to obey the Wailing Bone caused it to crack. From that night on, the vulpera of the caravan found themselves cursed for failing to heed the Wailing Bone (62, 65).

Cracking under the pressure of the curse, the two negligent vulpera ultimately died gruesome deaths at each other’s hands. One of their bones was made into the next Wailing Bone (65).

A caravan always needs a Wailing Bone (65).

The Uninvited Guest

One goblin adage goes like so: “Every great goblin invention was born from necessity, bubble gum, or an accident” (69).

The goblins have a nursery rhyme: “In the dark of night and bright of day, / Keep in your hand a tossaway. / Guard your fortune, mind your greed, / Or else the Uninvited Guest will feed” (70).

The Uninvited Guest is a goblin boogeyman of sorts who is attracted by greed so egregious it offends even the dead. It is incorporeal, invisible, and has the ability to move through walls (76).

The Uninvited Guest feeds off of greed, but it can never be satisfied. It will latch onto its host like an invisible parasite to feed, inciting strange charitable behavior in them until they have given away all of their earthly possessions (76-79). 

A “tossaway” is a shiny gold-painted coin stamped with the face of the very first trade prince. These fake coins get their name from the way goblins quite literally toss them away in a symbolically superstitious act to protect themselves and their fortunes from the Uninvited Guest (70, 74). 

Tossaways were invented by Slixi Boompowder, the wife of one of the former trade princes of the Steamwheedle Cartel, after her own run-in with the Uninvited Guest. She only escaped from it because she distracted it with actual gold galleons, which inspired her to create the tossaways (83).

Legend has it that the Uninvited Guest still roams Azeroth to this day, looking to feed off of hapless greedy goblins (84). 

Klaxz Boompowder was one of the former trade princes of the Steamwheedle Cartel. His rival was Rikter Hogsnozzle, the trade prince of the Bilgewater Cartel (70-71).

Tradition dictates that goblins are buried with their most valuable possessions so they can enjoy them at the Everlasting Party, the goblin afterlife. They are then given burial gifts by other goblins from their own riches, though most goblins are too greedy to truly part with anything important (73).

Once the coffin is sealed, goblins dance on top of it to usher the deceased on to the Everlasting Party (75). 

Prominent goblins typically serve as pallbearers while goblins contractually obligated to serve as pack mules carry the rear (75). 

The goblins used to employ golden galleons as their form of currency, but it fell out of fashion. Nowadays, they are incredibly rare and expensive (74-75). 

Trolls have a tale about an invisible evil that sucks the souls from living beings and leaves them mad. It can only be seen in the light of a full moon (80). 

Sister is Another Word For Always

Vereesa felt Sylvanas’ death at the hands of Arthas the moment it happened (89-90). 

Sylvanas’ eyes were gray as a high elf (91). 

In the midst of her sorrow at her sister’s death, Vereesa sought many escapes. At first she tried to sleep, but when rest and forgetfulness would not come, she embarked on a journey across deserts and forests with little in the way of proper food or nourishment except that which she found (90, 93). 

It is very possible Vereesa perished at some point on this journey, for she came across a spirit healer, though she was told it was not yet her time. The spirit healer offered Vereesa a deal: if she could bring her the willing soul of Sylvanas without ever touching her, the spirit healer would restore her to life (96-97). 

When Sylvanas first died at the hands of Arthas, it seems as though the Arbiter sent her to Ardenweald (98-99). 

After she struggles to locate her sister in Ardenweald, Vereesa is inadvertently pulled into the Maw. There, she still has difficulty finding her, and is told by the Jailer that Sylvanas is not there - at least, not yet. He then urges her to leave, telling her she does not belong there (99, 102-103).

Eventually, Vereesa spots a silver glimmer she knows to be Sylvanas, though it is only a fragment of her soul (103-104). 

Before she can escape with the soul of her sister, the Jailer stops Vereesa and inadvertently tricks her into touching Sylvanas, rendering her deal with the spirit healer null and void (106). 

At the end of this journey, Vereesa awakes at the foot of a statue, her memory of the experience hazy (109). 

The Paladin’s Beast

Uther is originally from Stratholme (117).

Introduced as a fable beloved by the princelings and princesses of Lordaeron, the Paladin’s Beast is a tale that follows a young Uther as he finds himself in a mysterious and unfamiliar land. Determined to prove himself and bring back a prize to his fellow paladins, Uther joins a tournament put on by a foreign kingdom despite the protests of its princess. Though he is a strong warrior, she insists the beast of the tournament kills every knight who challenges it. Still, Uther refuses to back down, confident that his faith in the Light will give him the strength he needs to prevail. However, the princess’ words hold true, as every knight who goes to fight the beast before him perishes. When it is his turn, Uther decides to stay his hammer rather than fight, remembering the princess’ words. The beast withdraws, defeated by his act of compassion. It is revealed afterward as Uther goes for his prize that the princess actually was the beast all along, cursed to fight in the tournament for disobeying her father and breaking the royal lineage. She casts a spell on Uther, making it so that when he returns to Lordaeron, he will not remember anything of who she was or his experience there until the day he finds himself in a fiery field. Though the fable ends there, it is said that Uther dreamt of the silver kingdom and its princess for many years to come. It was not until his final moments, trying to fell a beast with weapons rather than compassion, that he would fully remember the princess and her story (111-127). 

For Lies and Liberty

Most undead do not get all of their memories back immediately once they are raised (or given free will). It takes time and encouragement (133-134). 

On the long-standing issue of whether or not undead have ichor or blood running through their veins, it appears one Jeremiah Pall still has blood in his body, though it has stopped moving on account of his still heart (134).

The story of the “Fearless Flyer” - a man known as Captain Whitney - is famous among some of the Alliance forces. According to the man himself, Whitney and his outfit had been fighting orcs for months to no avail when he hatched a bold plan to launch himself by catapult into their camp and take them by surprise, hence the nickname the “Fearless Flyer”. This story, unfortunately, turned out to be nothing but hyperbole. As it stands, a drunk Whitney accidentally got tangled up in nets, fell in the catapult, and was unceremoniously flung into the orcish camp. Believing themselves to be under attack, the orcs retaliated and killed most of the unsuspecting humans while Captain Whitney hid (136, 142). 

Stones, Moss, and Tears

Though female elves traditionally mark their faces after they have achieved a rite of passage, they can continue to add embellishments to commemorate any further deeds (155).

At least one kaldorei lorekeeper was charged with knowing the name of every Sentinel and recording details of their more noteworthy battles (156).

The Bloomblade druids were one of the oldest, unbroken lines of night elf druids (158). 

A species of insect known as glowmoths migrate through Mount Hyjal every autumn (164). 

The Embrace

The White Lady and the Sun were charged with keeping watch over Azeroth as it dreamed (171, 176). 

Though she loved the people of Azeroth dearly, the White Lady found herself growing lonely and in want of a family (173). 

The moon cycles are thought to be the White Lady turning away and hiding her face in her sorrow, though she would always look back upon Azeroth to watch over it (174).

It is said that the White Lady loved Azeroth and its denizens so much that a child - the Blue Child - was born of that love (174-175).

The Blue Child, ever curious, began asking the White Lady questions about the mortals that weighed on her heart, as she could not answer (176).  

One night the White Lady woke up to find the Blue Child gone. Unable to find her, she swore off her charge until the Blue Child was returned to her (177-178).

Without her guidance, the planet sped up and the tides ceased. The White Lady was only convinced to return to her duty after the Sun urged her, telling her the Blue Child might return if she had the moonlight to guide her (178).

The White Lady began to glow even more brightly over time in the hopes that her child would see, her light quickly growing to rival that of the Sun’s. This, too, caused problems, for crops burned and navigators could not see the stars to travel by (179). 

Upon seeing the terrible effect this was having on Azeroth’s denizens, the White Lady dimmed her light and retreated (181). 

The Blue Child ultimately returned from her long travels to her mother. They embraced in the sky, creating a beautiful eclipse (182).

Ever curious, the Blue Child was bound to grow restless again and leave for the stars, but the White Lady knew she would always return (183). 

When the moon turns red, it is a sign of her anger (177). 

Why the Mermaids Left Boralus

Back when Kul Tiras was still a Gilnean colony, Boralus had hardly any walls or structures protecting it from the wind or sea. More often than not, when the Great Sea churned at the city’s edge, it took houses, ships, and even men down into its depths. So many would drown in these incidents that those remaining covered them with weighted nets, causing them to sink to the seafloor (187-188, 190). 

Many of the roads out of Boralus flooded during great storms, making it deadly to try to leave the city on foot or by ship (198).

The Kul Tirans declined to build a seawall for fear that it would have done nothing and also because repairing it after a storm would have been just as dangerous as the storms themselves (188).

Most of Boralus’ early inhabitants were seamen of some sort, whether fishers, sea priests, sailors, or pearl-divers (188). 

During storms, the tidesages would act as a makeshift seawall and use their power to cut the waves before they made it deeper into the harbor (199).

Mermaids appeared quite openly near Boralus in its early days. Though they lived much deeper than most could naturally dive, they liked to sit on the rocks and watch ships go by, among other things. Most lived in temples beneath the sea that belonged to Kul Tiras’ former inhabitants (189, 191). 

According to superstition, sighting a mermaid was bad luck and presaged many inauspicious things including a doomed voyage, a brutal winter, and poor fishing. They were also seen as the harbingers of storms (189-190). 

Tidesages were (and still are) always the first and last to disembark from a ship. As a result, they usually went down with their ships (191).

The tidesages’ unrivaled dedication, combined with the frequency of drownings and shipwrecks, often meant they died young (191). 

Mermaids are spawned from eggs and leave no corpses when they die (191, 203).

The mermaids had very little understanding of the Kul Tirans’ mistrust towards them (191). 

Mermaids have some power over the rocks and water - granted to them by the Tidemother from birth -, but they use it sparingly because it is finite. Once a mermaid runs out of magic, they die. As a result, mermaids can live up to five hundred years (192). 

Mermaids consider sirens lazy and murlocs deplorable (192).

According to legend, the bubble seaweed in Boralus Harbor is actually discarded pearls. A mermaid by the name of Halia fell in love with a tidesage and kept secretly gifting them to her as a token of her affection. The tidesage, Ery, was far too pragmatic for such a gift and dumped the pearls back in the water every time (195).

The mermaids believe that the Tidemother will give tails to those who slit their feet from toes to heels and walk into the harbor at dawn (197). 

According to legend, Boralus’ great stone seawall was formed through the combined efforts of dozens of mermaids and one lone tidesage. A virulent tempest had come upon Boralus one day, taking men and ships alike with it. Though the city’s tidesages gathered to push back the waves, all but one were lost to the storm over the course of five long days. The last remaining tidesage, Ery, persisted despite her exhaustion while the mermaid Halia, too afraid to watch her lover perish, began using her own magic to craft a seawall. Though the storm repeatedly broke it down, her fellow mermaids joined her, ultimately expending their magic and sacrificing themselves to raise a wall so grand it towered over even the mightiest of ships and waves. Ery herself nearly died after this, though Halia saved her by invoking the Tidemother. She cut Ery’s feet from toes to heels and dragged her into the harbor, performing the ritual necessary for her transformation into a mermaid (198-203).

All but one of the mermaids - Ery notwithstanding - perished to save Boralus, which is why none are seen there today (204-205).

As a result, the sailors of Boralus now see mermaids as a symbol of the highest honor, good luck, and sacrifice (205). 

During calm sunsets when the red of the sky is reflected in the harbor, sailors refer to it as “Ery’s blood,” after the tidesage who fought the storm so valiantly. Ery’s blood is a sign of good weather to come (205). 

The Courageous Kobold and the Wickless Candle

Kobolds tell a sleep-time story (209).

Kobold families live together in caves. They have their own nests, but congregate in common areas for stories, among other things (210).

Some time ago, the Whiskersnoot kobold tunnels crumbled, submerging the Whiskersnoots in total darkness. They lived like that for generations, having decided it was no longer safe to dig higher after the cave-in. This spawned a saying: “Never pick above your snout, else the darkness snuff you out!” (210-211). 

Granny Whiskersnoot, however, dug just a little bit upward every day until one day she broke through to a light above. She intended to lead the other kobolds to it, but could never find her way back through the tunnels again. It wasn’t until her granddaughter persisted in finding it that they made their way back above ground (211, 222). 

The kobolds think of the sun as a “Wickless Candle” (211). 

Visage Day

On a dragon’s Visage Day, they choose what mortal form they will take. This is significant, as it shows the Aspects trust them to adopt the guise of one of the mortal races and walk among them. It is the dragons’ hope that through choosing a form to embody and relate to mortals, the more mortals can understand dragons in turn (228, 234). 

Onyxia, on the other hand, maintains dragons choose visages that allow them to control the mortals (241). 

In accordance with tradition, the Visage Day ceremony occurs on the uppermost level of Wyrmrest Temple. Each of the Aspects are usually present for members of their own dragonflight, though Alexstrasza herself has been known to officiate on occasion. It is also customary for each flight to send emissaries (243). 

During the ceremony, all attendant dragons take their own mortal forms in honor of the dragon whose Visage Day it is (245). 

Before they publicly choose their form, the dragon in question traditionally makes a proclamation (245).

The Visage Day ceremony can be delayed (244). 

Nozdormu has helped many bronze dragons prepare for their own Visage Day (230).

When Nozdormu sits in the sands at the heart of the Bronze Dragonshine, intricate patterns form around him (233). 

Both Kalecgos and Chromie performed a short incantation to assume their mortal forms, though Nozdormu did not appear to need to (234, 236, 246). 

Kalecgos says that he chose a half-elf form - which he calls a “blend of mortal worlds” - in order to symbolize his own attempt to blend together the dragon and human worlds (237). 

Onyxia, on the other hand, opted to take the form of a beautiful human woman to better manipulate mortals (241). 

The dragons often go by nicknames in their mortal forms because they find their full names sound too formal to humans (238). 

The drakonid were fashioned by the dragons to be helpful and loyal (238).

The black dragonflight practices how best to inflict pain (239). 

[tarysande]

As funny as I found Lucifer being annoyed by God I also loved it when God was actively being supportive, because while a little over the top everything God said and all of the pride he expressed was genuine. “ He moved to LA all on his own... That’s my son over there... He’s a consultant for the LAPD... giant smile and giant wave”.

I'm C&Ping another God-themed ask in here, too.

One thing I loved about this season was how much Lucifer still loves his dad in spite of everything. You abandoned me... you’re annoying me... go away... no one lays hands on my father!!! cue devil form. Also on that, I think seeing that form allowed God to see how badly he had failed Lucifer and how deep his self hatred runs because until then he’d been willfully blind to it.

I have ... so many thoughts about God.

I’ve written a bunch of meta that included a lot of my own ideas and speculation about God and his relationship with Lucifer, but it’s been a long time since I went back to read it. So, I just did that. (1, 2, 3, 4, 5.) And the truth is ... most of my thoughts still hold up pretty well.

So. I think Lucifer’s reaction to Actual Dad showing up on Earth was more or less perfectly in line with what was previewed in “God Johnson.” Lucifer is so angry (and with Lucifer, anger = hurt) at the end precisely because it’s an equal and opposite reaction to what he felt hearing those words of love and support from his dad. His self-loathing convinces him that his dad would never say those words. Then, the family dinner seems to reinforce that. But what we see happen, of course, is basically a slower version of God Johnson. Even though Lucifer is still angry (HURT), his natural state isn’t that anger or hate or annoyance or hurt--Lucifer’s greatest desire really is (and always has been) to love and be loved. For who he is, not what he does.

The irony of Lucifer thinking he doesn’t know how to love is that he’s actually about 91.5% love (by volume). He loves Earth, he loves humanity, he loves all the random things humanity has created or improved upon, he loves nice suits and luxury and his car. He loves good whiskey and strawberries and Hot Tub High School. He loves music--he loves music so much. (And, given his reaction, I’m firmly convinced Lucifer loved the dinosaurs.) And even though that love has been, at times, poisoned by selfishness and self-loathing and anger to the point where it sometimes seemed nonexistent, it was still there. We saw it in the first episode, with Delilah. We see it all the time.

So, the other thing 5b made pretty clear is that while Dad's eldest son (Amenadiel) may be closest to him in physical appearance, Lucifer (the youngest) is closest to him in ... so, so many other ways. Music. Cooking. Bad puns. Pranks. Jokes. Curiosity. Delight. The childlike enjoyment of novel experiences. Teasing as a love language. Love. Just love in general.

I think God hoped Lucifer would grow beyond even what he, God, was capable of. The thing is, God backed himself into a corner. Since his angels responded to everything he said like it was, well, THE WORD OF GOD, he knew they'd never actually be free if he was always around ... SAYING things. And I think that when he created Lucifer, he gave him the curiosity and questioning and rebelliousness that he knew his children would need if they were ever to become more than just Traits of God made manifest.

Lucifer could have walked out of Hell any time--he could have walked through the door, like Mr. Said Out Bitch did. God knew this. I'm pretty sure God hoped it wouldn't take EONS for this to happen. But God ALSO knew Lucifer's own guilt and fear and pain couldn't be WORD OF GOD commanded away, or that precious free will Lucifer prized would be lost forever.

During the Rebellion, Lucifer wanted to be God for the wrong reasons. God knew Lucifer had the capacity to be God for the right ones. I think God hoped Lucifer would one day achieve that; I think he wanted to see his child surpass him. But Lucifer had to learn the right reasons for himself. He had to learn the selfless side of desire and not just the selfish one. He had to learn giving without needing or expecting equal reciprocation. And ... it took a long time. He's still working on it.

And Lucifer? Lucifer, 91.5% love (by volume), needed to hear that his dad loved him and was proud of him. He needed the context so he could finally understand these feelings that had been such a primary motivator for him FOREVER. He needed the words. He needed that damned hug. And God, knowing he was at last freed from accidentally WORD OF GODing his son out of free will, was finally able to give it.

And the thing is ... I think God needed those words and that hug as much as Lucifer did. I think being remote and distant hurt him more even than it hurt his children--God always knew what he was sacrificing for them, for their chance to have freedom, to be more than slaves "of God." And he did it anyway, even though he knew they'd resent him, hate him even, for it.

[taramikealson]

Just a sort of canon-ish Drabble that I got a little carried away with.

Set after the events in TVD excluding the “Hell” storyline in Season 8, the miracle babies, Caroline dating Alaric, Marcel taking the serum, and a few minor changes that are hopefully recognizable.

He could feel the irritation crawl along his skin like a serpent slithering itself up and around a tree. With the irritation, came anger.

Sometimes he enjoyed the challenge that came with others riffling with his plans. He has theories as to why he does but deep down he knows the true reason. His wolf. The thrill and excitement that came with the thought of the hunt. Predators such as wolves are born hunters who thrive on such games.

But, he is not only a wolf. No, he is a strategist- a remarkable one at that. There had been no plan, no despicable machination of his that hasn’t had a fail-safe.

Except for this one.

He had gotten himself into a situation where he finally became comfortable again after nearly ten centuries of running. And when he got comfortable, he began to lose his edge.

After successfully re-stabilizing the Quarter and allowing his brother to take a leading role in the peace treaty between the factions, New Orleans fell quiet. Of course, every so often there’d be a dispute between a couple of the factions that rose a concern within his elder brother, but that was always unavoidable. Werewolves, witches, and vampires alike have fought for centuries, that type of violence and warfare doesn’t automatically stop with a peace treaty. His brother may hope for that positive outcome but Klaus had always been a realist. And, unfortunately as he predicted, the peace was temporary.

“Niklaus, this is not a situation that we should ignore.” His brother’s voice sounded through the phone that he had pressed against his right ear.

No, this isn’t something we should ignore. He thinks, tentatively keeping his lips pressed together to keep himself from speaking of something that perhaps his brother shouldn’t know.

“Should Marcel make a regretful move, this treaty we’ve formed could very well be null and void.”

If Marcel were to make a move, it may start a gruesome war between the vampires and werewolves. If Klaus knew Marcel well enough, his former right-hand man is most likely planning something rather ill-conceived. He hasn’t theorized whether the harsh consequences will weigh the heaviest on either the vampires or werewolves, or even the whole Quarter all together. No matter what they may be, he’s most certain his brother won’t be quite pleased with what he has planned.

Although Klaus once held a tight hold over the vampires, it came to his attention that Marcel continued to be respected amongst both the day and nightwalker community. Thus, why in the time of tension, they clamber to him in search of a leader to choose the decisions that will benefit them. Which is why Klaus has chosen to keep the werewolves as an ally. The werewolves have proven to be loyal to Hayley and his daughter because they both are seen as part of the pack, which unnerves Klaus but gives him the relief that those wolves will protect his daughter. The connection that Hayley holds with those werewolves is bound to be manipulated, might as well be him to do so in a beneficial way. For both the stability of New Orleans and the safety of his daughter.

“Brother, do you understand me?”

His shoes crunch against the small layer of gravel underneath his feet.

“Yes.” Klaus tries his best to keep the irritation out of his voice but his answer still sounds short.

The hybrid immediately ends the call, noting that the conversion was to be continued in person. While pocketing his phone, he takes a few steps further along the rooftop and then steps up onto the ledge, giving him a grand view of the Quarter from a few buildings away.

A rough shuffle and a few voices could be heard from a little farther down the alley below him, but he didn’t much care about the happenings within the alley. From what he could hear, there were two men speaking in hushed tones, their heartbeats slower and more quiet indicating their undead nature. The fast and erratic heartbeat that was a few paces in front of them was a clear indication to Klaus of what the vampires below were planning to do.

His lips turned up slightly. He, himself, was feeling a bit peckish, perhaps he’ll grab a quick bite before he returns home to his disapproving older brother.

The vampires eventually closed the woman in, murmuring to her about where she was going and why she was out at such a time. He found it interesting that she stayed quiet. Ninety-nine percent of the time, the women would say something whether it be a plea to let them go or an angry curse.

Wanting to stay out of the house- more like away from his brother- for as long as he can, he turned his head to look down the alleyway. If this ends to be unentertaining, he’ll most likely grab a drink at Rousseau’s.

There, he could see both the vampires crowd into the blonde woman’s space. She has her back pushed up against the rough brick.

“I don’t think it’s very safe for a lady like yourself to be out here.” The vampire states before his eyes transform and fangs replace his blunt teeth. Usually, this is when the victims begin to scream or mutter that modern saying, oh my, God. But the woman doesn’t seem as scared as a normal human would be.

“You’re making a mistake.” She murmurs and Klaus’ eyes widen a hair, recognizing the voice. But before he can think of anything else, the woman is thrusting a wooden stake into the vampire’s stomach.

The vampire doubles over and the other vampire goes to attack the human but he’s no match for Klaus’ speed. Without a second thought, Klaus appears before the vampire, shoving him back before he could get to the woman. The other vampire has now pulled the stake from his torso and was looking to kill but Klaus turned toward him.

“Enough.”

The vampire pauses but scowls at him, a look of disgust and anger apparent in his eyes. His hand rises and points to the human. “She stabbed me! She’s a tourist! Tourists are fair game-,”

“And you would be in the right if it weren’t for her being under my protection.”

The vampire looks a little surprised at Klaus’ declaration and is about to protest once more but Klaus beats him to it.

“Now, I suggest you scamper off to Marcel before I’m tempted to rid you both of your hands.”

Both vampires share a glance and Klaus continues to stand his ground confidently. Eventually, the vampires figure out that it’s probably best for them to avoid any conflict with an Original, the Original Hybrid no less. Thus, they both give the human one last threatening look before flashing away into the night.

With the vampires disappearance, Klaus had began to turn around and quip something sarcastic but his whole expression changes when Caroline’s knees give out. His hands come out at vampiric speed as he catches her by her upper arms and kneels down as he slowly lowers with her.

It’s then that he sees her clearly. Her hair isn’t as perfect as she normally used to keep it, almost like she hasn’t had access to the proper equipment. Her clothes were a little wrinkled and two small dark red dots bled through her white shirt indicating that a bandaged wound was leaking. Concern now flooded through him as his eyes connected with her face. It was as beautiful as ever but there was a deep exhaustion and a line of stress etched into her forehead. Oh how his heart now aches. He thinks that he hasn’t felt as worried for someone as he is with Hope, but yet here he is, holding her just enough so she doesn’t slump over.

He now realizes that she hadn’t just lost most of her strength, but had been keeping herself from showing any weakness towards those vampires. If he wasn’t so concerned with her health, he’d be praising her for her stubborn strength.

“Caroline, look at me, love.” He aides her by tilting her head up gently by her chin. Her eyes are tired and look so vulnerable.

She looks as if she’s about to say something but Klaus shakes his head. “Conserve your strength. You’re alright, I’ve got you.” If those words were spoken to anyone else, they’d have a right mind to be worried but she seemed to feel relieved. He takes that as permission to pick her up, holding her from underneath her legs and shoulders.

His thoughts of what his brother will think of him are completely wiped away when he races to his home. It’s quiet but he knows his brother is lurking somewhere. He’s not quite concerned about Freya, Rebekah, and Hayley’s absences. Ever since the incident between the werewolves and vampires, Hayley has taken it upon herself to help with the remaining pack. Freya is most likely working on another miracle to save this city’s peace and it’s no surprise that Rebekah is with Marcel.

Klaus contemplates taking Caroline to a guest bedroom but the closest one to his is farther than he’d like so he figures that taking her to his bedroom won’t be the worst idea. At least he’d be able to keep a close eye on her for the time being.

He sets her down gently to the dark grey covers and takes a sharp turn into the bathroom. Klaus comes back out a few moments later with a wet washcloth and a couple different sizes of bandages. Caroline shifts a little and grazes her hand against the side of her torso where the wound was which seems to instantly sober her up. She lets out a small gasp and grimaces in pain. Her hand hovers over it as if it’d take the pain away. Klaus walks back over to her and sits on the edge of the bed, a few inches separating himself from her.

Extending his hand, his eyes travel up to her face seeking silently for any sign of rejection before pulling the edge of her shirt up to reveal a blood-soaked bandage. His hands slowly peel away the bandage and Klaus didn’t know what to expect but he hadn’t expect something quite as brutal as this. No, this was not a wound from an accident, this was intentional and by someone who was trying to harm Caroline. In fact, he was quite knowledgeable about this particular wound, or had been when he was human. By the sharp angles of the shape of the wound, he could tell it had been an arrow tip that pierced her skin. When he was human, Kol had been recklessly playing with his father’s bow and accidentally shot Finn in the shoulder. He had kept that arrow shaped scar for as long as he could remember. But just because Finn had survived, it only made Klaus more concerned.

By the tear of the wound, it seems to have been reopened due to stress. Although, he imagines that it’s good news that it’s not infected. Klaus is as gentle as he possibly can be when he pays the wet washcloth along her wound. She bites her lip hard and grasps his arm in a painful grip but he allows her to do so, hoping that if a fraction of his pain can dull hers, then so be it.

After a few moments, she slowly takes her hand away and he begins to clean around the wound.

“Klaus-,”

“Don’t.” He begins, “not now.”

His words come out a tad harsher than intended but she knows he’s just concerned and doesn’t know how to healthily deal with it like a normal human.

“I need you to listen just for once.”

“Caroline, let yourself rest before we speak of anything.”

She appreciated the notion that he valued her safety and well-being more than an explanation of why she showed up in his city as a human. But this couldn’t wait, for her safety and his own.

To truly get his attention, she places her hand on top of the one that was still cleaning the blood off her skin. It pauses its movements and he looks up to her.

“I- I didn’t want to do this. I didn’t want to use you for your contacts but I didn’t have anywhere else to go.” She hesitates to continue because after she asks, his involvement becomes concrete. Because she knows that he’ll help her. “I need a witch, someone powerful. Someone who can do a cloaking spell that can’t be broken by another witch.”

His face doesn’t express as much emotion as she thought it would but she doesn’t think that it’s a bad thing. He obviously seems to be contemplating something as his eyes bore into hers.

Setting aside the washcloth, he straightens out and takes a sleek black phone out of his jacket pocket. Without hesitation, he clicks a few times on the screen and places the phone against his ear.

“Freya, I need you at the Compound immediately.” With that, he puts his phone away and reaches for a bandage. Taking the plastic off, he softly places it over her wound, pressing along the outside, securing it to her skin without causing her pain.

His eyes refocus onto hers and she spots the anger that has now manifested within those blue orbs. “Who did this?” He asks and Caroline Knew she should have known better than to think the wound wouldn’t show any foul play.

“Silas.” Klaus’ lips part in confusion. For all he knows, Silas had been put in a safe and thrown down the quarry. God, things got complicated since he’d left. Much more complicated than she would have liked.

“For a while he pretended to be Stefan. We didn’t know because we thought he could only mess with a couple people’s perspectives but turns out he’s a doppelgänger.” She mentally cringes when remembering how Silas continuously terrorized her and her friends. She also remembers how Silas had made everyone think he was dead when Stefan killed him but had used it as an out to chalk up another plan that revolved solely around revenge. Against her.

Caroline begins to pull herself up into a sitting position so she’s resting against the headboard and is thankful when Klaus helps her. “Before you came back, we thought Stefan killed Silas but he’d used some last resort spell and it gave him the perfect out to recollect himself.”

“I guess he waited for a few years for things to settle down and for us to be off our guard.Damon was as happy as he could be considering Elena, Bonnie was back, and Stefan and I were getting back on good terms. Silas approached me on the last day of my Senior year.” Klaus notices as she bites her lip and looks down at her hands that have begun to twiddle in slight nervousness. “Silas made me think we were making some kind of deal. I leave my friends behind and never go back to Mystic Falls, or he kills me and everyone I care about. I chose to leave.”

Swallowing, her eyes darted from her hands to Klaus’ face to gauge what he might have been thinking but he wasn’t showing any sign other than that he was just listening to her, allowing her to pour whatever worries she had onto him.

“I don’t know if he thought that I would just settle down in some other place to get the opportunity to know my whereabouts while he tried to kill my friends but he called negotiations off when I skipped the third town I went to. So, he went after me.” When the single tear fell from her eye, she was a little surprised at how vulnerable she was allowing herself to be. “I told everyone that I was taking off for a little bit to go travel since I had finished college. I didn’t want them to try to find me and end up as one of Silas’ next victims.”

She pauses and wipes the stray tear away, trying to recollect herself. She must look like hell, crying would only make it worse. Caroline needed to man-up. There was no doubt that what Klaus had gone through with his father, or step-father, was worse.

Klaus leans forward and takes her hand into his, letting him drop a feather-light kiss along her knuckles. “You are safe. If I ever promise you anything, I will certainly promise you that.”

Caroline can’t help the small smile that forms on her face, knowing that he is being truly genuine. His lips turn up as well.

A small knock on the door interrupts them and Klaus rises from the bed. A taller dirty blonde woman stands in the doorway, analyzing both of them. Klaus crosses the room and pulls the woman further into the hallway, speaking to her in a hushed tone.

After a moment of back and forth conversation, they both advance into the room. Klaus pauses for a minute, watching as the woman approaches the side of the bed. She offers Caroline a reassuring smile that tells her she’s most likely a friend of Klaus’ or at least someone in his good graces.

“Caroline, right? I’m the older and wiser Mikealson sibling, Freya.” Caroline blinks for a moment and looks to Klaus in confusion. Although, she assumes what the woman, Freya, is saying must be somewhat true because all Klaus does is slightly roll his eyes in such a brotherly manner before turning towards the liquor tray.

“Niklaus tells me you need a little bit of a complex cloaking spell.” Caroline nods. Being that Freya must be a Mikealson, it is always safe to walk on eggshells around the ones she’s not very familiar with, no doubt the ones that she never knew about.

Freya turns towards the hybrid who was sipping his drink. “Will you fetch my grimoire and my herb bowl from the study, brother?” Klaus doesn’t seem all too eager to be ordered around but he does as asked and walks out of the room. Freya turns back towards Caroline and motions to the space when Klaus had sat before.

“May I?”

Caroline gives her a short nod and Freya smiles.

“Why are you being so nice to me? I thought all Mikealsons were kinda bordering on the ‘I don’t help anyone but my family’ ideology.” Caroline was going to be more subtle about it but she’s injured and doesn’t feel well, might as well rip off the band-aid.

Funnily enough, Freya laughs. “I’d agree with you but I’m quite aware of who you are.”

Now, that was surprising. Did Klaus say anything about her to his siblings? It didn’t seem like something he’d do. Her mouth opened to say something but she couldn’t find her words. It seems like Freya had an idea of what she was thinking and thought to correct her.

“I saw you when I entered my brother’s mind. If it weren’t under life and death circumstances I wouldn’t have done so. Trust me, I’ve already heard a mouthful from Niklaus.”

That made Caroline even a bit more nervous. Did this woman know everything about her and Klaus then? Had she watched some of their interactions? “How much do you know?” She asks.

“Just enough to know how important you are to my brother.”

That’s not cryptic at all. Caroline isn’t sure if that means Freya knows a little too much than she should or not but she imagines that she can’t push the woman any further than she’s willing so she shuts her mouth. And she also really doubts that Klaus is out of earshot, he can probably hear almost anything from the other side of the house so it’s best not to speak out of turn. Or maybe just not too much about him.

Speak of the devil, because he then walks through the door not even a few moments afterwards, carrying a grimoire and a small bowl with a few items in it that looked close to medical supplies.

He comes up behind his sister and sets her grimoire down on the bed and intentionally hands her the bowl, making her notice the extra supplies within. A sterile needle with surgical string and a couple other medical supplies. As he hands the bowl over to her, he murmurs, “perhaps you should also take a look at her wound, sister.”

By the look in his eye, she could tell he was a bit more concerned about the girl’s physical wound than the cloaking spell being down. Then again, both siblings knew that with all of the magic surrounding the Compound, it would take a highly skilled witch at least a couple hours to work through a location spell for anyone who was there.

Freya nods and takes the bowl from him. Klaus steps back and takes a seat directly across the room from the bed in one of the leather chairs, still allowing Caroline to see him.

The witch silently asks for permission to have a closer look at Caroline’s wound before pulling the new bandage away. Caroline watches Freya’s eyebrows furrow as she inspects the wound. Freya’s eyes look back up to her.

“Have you had this looked at before?”

Caroline shakes her head lightly. “But I tried to keep it closed.” Her lips turn up into a ghost of a smile. “You only learn so much in high school and college level health classes.” Freya understands the lightheartedness within the statement and offers her a smile.

“Well, it seems like you at least kept it clean.” Freya begins. “But I’ll need to stitch it up a little and possibly do a proper cleaning just in case. It’ll probably be easy to put you to sleep for that.”

Caroline’s eyebrows furrow at the lack of a surgical syringe. “Like a witchy anesthesia?”

Freya seems to enjoy her lack of magical knowledge and find amusement in it. “Something along those lines.”

“You’ve done it before, right?”

The witch lets out a small laugh. “Yes, but I can certainly do a demonstration.” Her head turns over her shoulder towards her younger brother but Klaus seems unimpressed.

It was a little reassuring seeing him naturally take up his brotherly role. She hadn’t ever really seen that side of him and never saw him actually interact with his siblings before. It was nice to know that even the Original Hybrid could act like a typical brother once in a great while.

“I promise it’s safe and when you wake, your wound will be patched right up.” Freya reassures and Caroline nods. She knows that Klaus will go just about as far as he possibly can to keep her safe which tells her that Freya is trustworthy. So, she doesn’t think about it too long before she murmurs, “okay.”

———————————————-

Upon breaking the fog of sleep, she doesn’t feel as weak as she had before Freya had put her to sleep which was a good sign. She begins to lift her head off the pillow and suddenly feels a warm hand help her sit up.

Looking over, she sees Klaus hovering beside her. “Easy, love. No need to tear your new sutures.”

His words remind her and she looks down, pulling her shirt up and the bandage aside to see her wound stitched up neatly with a strange light paste spread on top.

“My sister assured me that her little remedy,” he nods towards the paste on her wound, “should have healed you just enough to allow you to shower, if you wish to do so.”

The thought of a steaming hot shower is so appealing to her right now. “God, yes.” She sighs. It’s been so long since she’d been in any type of shower that wasn’t in a hotel or had some sort of modern day technology.

It seems Klaus enjoys her enthusiasm and takes it as a good sign for her health. “Would you like me to fetch my sister to help you?”

Caroline shakes her head. “No, it’s okay. I’m okay.” She silently thinks that should anything happen, he’ll most likely be listening in on her. It was a little creepy to think about but also made her feel a tad safer knowing that he’d always make sure she was safe.

He respects her choice and helps her stand. Waiting a moment to make sure she gets her bearings, he keeps a hand on the small of her back and leads her towards the entrance of the bathroom. She silently thanks him before he closes the door to a crack after her.

Looking around the bathroom, she’s not surprised about how lavish it is and how neat it’s kept. She never really took Klaus as the person who kept his personal space in disarray. As clean as it was, it still held the feeling of being used daily. One of the medicine cabinets was left cracked open a little, a small tin and classic shaving knife was left on top of a white cloth, and a bottle of cologne sat on the counter. If Caroline had possibly thought of a bathroom Klaus would ever call his, this is probably as close to it as she’d get.

Caroline decides that if she takes too long, Klaus may think something is wrong so she strips quickly and turns the water on. She’s pleased when it takes a whole couple seconds for the water to warm. Stepping into the shower, she sighs at how good it feels. The water runs down her, rinsing away all of the dirt and grime from the past couple days.

After getting her hair wet, she reads the minimalist labels on the three bottles that sat on the shower shelf. Thank God they weren’t the typical soaps that guys used nowadays. She shivers at the thought of two-in-one products. These were just simply packaged products that were obviously a little more on the manlier side of things but it’ll have to do.

Rubbing the shampoo and conditioner in her curls, she almost felt a weight lift off of her. Once she finished up basking in the warmth of the shower, she turned the dial off and stepped out. Grabbing the white towel, she wraps it around herself and tries to dry up as much as she can.

Upon walking back over to the bathroom counter she notices that she can’t exactly wear her old clothes but she does choose to wear her bra and underwear again. Hopefully she can ask Klaus to rile her up something for her to wear.

When she exits the bathroom, she immediately notices that the French doors that had led to the balcony outside were now closed with the drapes shut and the sliding door to the bedroom was almost shut all the way. She could hear a little movement in the next room over and assumed it was Klaus.

Stepping further into the bedroom, she sees that she doesn’t even need to ask Klaus for clothes because there’s a pair of yoga pants and t-shirt folded neatly on the bed. It was also accompanied with a hairbrush. Her heart warms at the thoughtfulness but then again, Klaus had always put thought behind a lot of things that involved her.

She’s quick to take the precious privacy that he allowed her and got dressed.

He finally emerged when she was finishing up brushing her hair. He held a plate of food and a glass of water. Caroline places the hairbrush down and into the drawer of the nightstand before scooting herself further back on the bed to give him enough space. Klaus sits down on the edge of the bed and places the glass of water on the nightstand, then handing Caroline the plate. At the sight of the scrambled eggs, bacon, and assortment of fruit on the plate, she was almost worried her stomach would growl. She doesn’t even remember when she last had a proper meal.

“Thank you.” She murmurs when he hands her a clean fork.

His smile is genuine and tells her that he doesn’t find helping her to be a chore. When he watches her carefully as she began to eat, she knew that if he’d done so a few years back she’d find it extremely creepy, but now she’s come to find out that it’s his way of communicating his reassurance. He’s silently telling her that he’s here, he’s going to protect her.

“I’ll leave you to eat. Perhaps get a few more hours of sleep, it’s only a quarter after six.” He states as he rises from the bed. His eyes drift for a moment down to her torso where her wound is covered by her shirt. Something in his eyes changes and he leans down close to her head. She pauses as his lips softly connect with her forehead. He pulls back a little and looks deep into her eyes.

“So long as I have a say in the matter, Silas will never get close enough to touch you again.” He then rises to his full length and exits the room.

——————————————

After eating and getting a couple more hours of sleep she’d ventured out of Klaus bedroom to find him again. When she did he was insistent about getting her at least a week’s worth of clothing for herself. She didn’t make a second objection, knowing that either way Klaus will get her clothing, it was just a matter of if she’d pick it out or have some compelled vampire do it. Thus he’d taken her to a few local shops. In typical guy fashion, Klaus hadn’t been too animated about watching her pick clothing out. In most of the stores, they’d parted ways- her towards anything that caught her eye and him to any empty seat he could find.

Caroline tried to be as time efficient as possible knowing that even a man who has waited a thousand years to break his curse, he still had his limits of patience. As much as she thought he dreaded chaperoning her, because he refused to have a possibility of another vampire thinking they could harm her, he still offered her considerate smiles. There were a few instances where she could feel the heat of his gaze as she walked out of the dressing room. She didn’t know what to make of it and brushed it aside.

This is hopefully the first and last time Caroline thinks this, but she is thankful that Klaus has the ability to compel vampires. He had a vampire, she forgot her name, retrieved Caroline’s brand new clothes and took them to the Compound so they could continue to stroll down a few of the streets.

If Caroline hadn’t spent the last couple years skipping from city to city, she thinks she may have been a little more amazed at the New Orleans architecture. But still, it was truly stunning. She liked that Klaus didn’t directly guide her but just allowed her to wander. Soon, they’d found themselves in a bar. The bartender that approached them seemed very familiar with Klaus and when he’d introduced her to Camille, the woman was welcoming.

It didn’t escape her notice how Camille had laid eyes on Klaus for a few seconds too long before walking off to let her and Klaus enjoy their drinks.

Caroline smiles a little at the situation. “You know, she likes you.”

His lips turn up and he sips his whiskey.

“You may not be aware of this, Caroline, but you are on the exceedingly short list of women who have rejected me.” His head turns towards her with a smug smirk. “You should feel lucky, most of those women are dead.”

Caroline rolls her eyes lightheartedly. “So lucky.” She breathes and looks away from him. His chuckle is rich and deep, making her crack a small smile.

“Quite a number of women find me charming, you surely had at one time.”

The statement brings out an instinct in her to say something snarky or quip something a little harsh but she chooses not to. Instead, her teeth catch her bottom lip as she lowers her gaze to the vodka soda. She doesn’t exactly know what to do. All she’s ever done with him was constantly impolitely reject him with statements about who he killed or what bad things he’s done.

Her eyes go up to see the bartender come out from the kitchen in the back. The girl gives them a small glance and Caroline offers her a friendly smile. Camille seems a little surprised by Caroline’s friendliness, almost as if she was expected to be ignored or brushed off. Caroline has no doubt that the crowd that Klaus would spend time with would be most certainly supernatural, thus their lack of interest in simple human servers. Although, Klaus seemed a little keen of her. Truthfully, she didn’t know what to think about it. If it was a few years ago, she would have rather drowned before admitting that she was a tad jealous when it came to Klaus, but she was older and more mature. So, yeah. Maybe she felt a little jealous that the girl’s feelings towards Klaus could be mutual. But she also wasn’t going to be spiteful of it.

Stirring the small straw that floated in her untouched drink, she murmurs, “If you want to go talk to her, there’s nothing stopping you.” Her voice is as neutral as she can make it.

Even now without her vampire senses, she could still feel his fiery gaze in the side of her head. He lets out a low chuckle.

“Camille is a close friend of my family. She’s sacrificed quite a bit to aid my family’s survival and I’ve repaid her loyalty with protection.” He begins. “Our relationship may have developed into somewhat of a complicated friendship since she’s known me, but that is simply it.”

Caroline turns her head towards him and his eyes are as clear blue as ever. “But by no means do I wish to be in anyone else’s company other than yours.”

There’s a brief moment between them where both of their solid barriers were dissolved and their eyes just simply met. They said nothing but their eyes communicated plenty. But, that moment was only brief.

The bell over the door to the bar chimes when it opens, the noise from the street could be heard for a moment before the door closes again. Both Klaus and Caroline are shaken out of their moment when a voice chimes.

“Now, this is interesting.”

Caroline is a little taken aback even though she should have expected to come across another Original. Hell, she wouldn’t doubt that the whole Mikealson clan was crawling around New Orleans at this point. It seemed to be almost like a hub for them.

Klaus is the first to turn in his seat and greet his sister. “Sister, a bit of a surprise to see you on this side of the river. Has Marcel finally bored you enough?” His tone has dramatically changed from the genuine one before to something more smartass-y.

When Caroline scoots on her stool a little to look more properly at the female Original, she notices how annoyed Rebekah gets because of Klaus’ comment.

“No, I came to visit my niece. Whom, in which, has noticed your lack of presence.” Rebekah then gives Caroline a disapproving glare. “But I think I know why.”

Klaus sighs quietly and Rebekah is about to say something but pauses. Her eyes scan Caroline carefully. After a moment, her eyes widen and she flashes towards Caroline, aggressively yelling, “who the bloody hell gave you the cure!?”

Caroline stumbles out of her stool as fast as she can and takes a few steps back. Rebekah is about to get into her face again but Klaus zips in front of her, blocking her way to Caroline.

“I-,” Caroline doesn’t know what to say or how to even start to calm down the Original. She’s not as strong as she once was. One little neck snap and she’ll be done.

“Rebekah.” Klaus growls in warning, earning a glare from his sister before her gaze goes back to the blonde.

“Why do you get the choice? You, of all people?”

Caroline is beyond grateful that no one else was in the bar because she’s sure that there could have been a bloodbath if there were.

Klaus is about to say something but Rebekah beats him to it.

“How is it that you get to have a normal life?”

Those words seemed to trigger something in Caroline. Something emotional.

“You think I want this? Do you think I chose to have a normal life where I’d meet some regular guy, marry him, have a few kids, and work for the rest of my life?” Rebekah frowns and Klaus turns his head just enough to look at her. “I didn’t. I don’t want that life and I didn’t choose to become human again. So, blame me all you want for being a bitch to you or whatever, but don’t blame me because you didn’t get the human life you’ve always wanted.”

It seems like Caroline’s words have an effect on Rebekah because she shrugs her brother’s hand away from her and takes a step back. Caroline can’t exactly know for sure but she thinks that maybe Rebekah can somewhat relate to her. Rebekah had always wanted to be human but was stuck as a vampire. Now, Caroline wants to be a vampire but is stuck as a human.

When Rebekah takes that step back and Klaus is sure she’s not going to try to attack Caroline again, he fully turns his body towards the blonde human. She can’t gauge exactly what he’s thinking but it could have been a cross between surprise and sympathy.

The younger Original looks almost a little guilty when she casts a glance towards Caroline but instead doesn’t say anything before flashing away. As the light breeze wafts over them from Rebekah’s exit, Klaus takes a step forward towards her.

“Caroline.”

She shakes her head. “I-,” her eyes shut for a moment. “Please don’t make me talk about it.”

She fully expects Klaus to struggle with her request but he quickly proves her wrong and gives her a short nod in understanding.

————————

Caroline’s fingers drum silently against the cold metal of the railing she’s stood behind. The city has now been cascaded in darkness but people still mull about on the street beneath her. The very idea of the liveliness of this city brings a smile to her face. The neon lights of shops and street lamps were now lit up to shine down on the passerbyers below, their drunken ramblings slightly muffled due to her human hearing.

She finds that Klaus was right. There was something about this city that not only attracted the party-seeking humans, but also the darker creatures who lurked in the shadows. She may not be a vampire any longer but that doesn’t mean the connection she holds with the darkness was shaken. There is not just history in this city, it is the home of the supernatural. Caroline bets that if she were still a vampire, she could have spotted a couple dozen supernaturals that had walked by in the past thirty minutes she's been up on Klaus’ balcony.

She only hopes it doesn’t attract a different kind of supernatural.

Out of the corner of her eye, she can sense movement just as a figure joins her. Their hand grasps the railing casually and when they sigh, a white cloud escapes their lips from the continuing dropping temperature of the night. He doesn’t attempt to make a move to slide closer to her and she appreciates the space he’s giving her, along with the time of silence.

As they stood in silence, listening to the noises of the city before them, she could recall how nervous she used to get during long periods of silence. She had always tried to fill them up with mindless chatter or something to that nature. But now? She finds that she sort of enjoys it. His presence may be a little nerve-wracking at times of tension but, as of late, Caroline seems to feel at ease knowing he’s just right there- not totally offering her comfort but the reassurance of his presence.

“You’re cold.” His voice murmurs smoothly through the air. It’s only then that she notices the goosebumps that trek along her arms. The light breeze flows around them once more, reminding Caroline that she doesn’t have as much tolerance to the weather as she once had when she was a vampire.

Her eyes lifted towards him to watch as he slid the casual high-collared blazer off just to then gently place it over her shoulders. Caroline’s arms cross and grasp the sides of the coat, pulling it closer to her body before offering him a smile in thanks. Although his eyes seemed to be light, there was a hint of concern to be seen.

“Caroline, what aren’t you telling me?”

The words surprise her, not because he’s asking them, but because he’s asking them now. She should have felt lucky that he hadn’t asked her earlier or even within the first ten minutes she was in New Orleans.

A lot. She thinks.

When she doesn’t speak, he sighs and shifts closer to her.

“You should be aware that I will do everything in my power to keep you safe, but I can’t very well do it if I don’t know any of the details.” He pauses for a moment before continuing. “I understand that these past few years haven’t been as undemanding as you’ve hoped, but you need to tell me something- anything- so that I can help you.”

Caroline contemplates just shrugging it off and telling him there’s nothing to talk about but that would be a lie. A big lie. She came to him for help, slept in his bed, and ate his food. It would have been foolish of her to think that she could take full advantage of his protection and not have to give him a detailed explanation. But, she doesn’t know exactly how to start and how to proceed. There are specifics that he doesn’t want him to know about, but if she were to leave them out, she’s sure that he is intelligent enough to put a few pieces together, or at least tell that she’s leaving a few key details out. She had two options. Either she tells the truth or she omits, telling him that she doesn’t have the courage to give him an explanation. The last option would be the easier route, but one that would most likely drive a wedge between them, thus possibly compromising their safety.

If she were younger, she would have grappled for a third option. But she was older and more mature now. Even though the prospect of what Klaus may think of her afterwards held a sizable weight over her head, she knew that she couldn’t avoid telling Klaus the truth.

“Silas isn’t just chasing me because I helped in the plan to kill him.” She breathes.

Klaus’ eyes blink in surprise, as if he’s shocked that she’s actually opening up to him. But he allows her to continue.

“When you came back to Mystic Falls, I didn’t tell you the whole truth about what happened with Silas. When Stefan lured Silas outside, I was left alone on the far side of the boarding house. Someone had grabbed me and I acted on instinct because I knew Damon, Elena, and Qetsiyah were in the parlor, so I assumed it was Silas.” Caroline looks away from the Original and out towards the night sky. “It turned out to be Amara.” Her eyes slowly drifted back over to him to gauge his reaction. He stood still, eyes just taking her in and processing the information that she was offering him.

“Silas’ one true love.” Her eyes hold guilt and a sadness within them as she remembers the events that occurred nearly five years ago. “She was innocent and I killed her.”

A stray tear begins to form in her eye and bubbles over, making a thin wet trail down her cheek. Klaus’ hand doesn’t move as fast as it normally does when he gently wipes the tear from her face, making sure not to make any moves that she wouldn’t be able to reject. The heat of his palm against her jaw and the pressure it holds gives her an odd sense of comfort that she wouldn’t have expected.

“I don’t know how he found out after he faked his death, but he-,” she begins to struggle to speak, the emotions beginning to take advantage of her. “He approached me in my dorm one day and I’m not sure if he planned it or not, but Tyler happened to walk in.”

Caroline lets out a small exhale to try to keep her emotions slightly underwraps but she can’t help the couple tears that escape her eyes. Turning her head away, she feels a shade of guilt run through her. “He- he killed Tyler right in front of me.” She also tried to explain how after Silas left her with his ultimatum, she had to find a place to bury Tyler and come up with a story for his absence, but she thinks she would have totally broken down if she spoke another word. It didn’t take much longer than a couple seconds before his arms had brought her closer to him and she didn’t shy away from pushing her head into his shoulder and wrapping her arms around his torso.

The heat radiating off of him almost felt like it began to wrap around her, comforting her in her grief. Klaus kept one arm around her back and another in the hair on the back of her head. His head craned down and he gently pressed his lips to her temple. He doesn’t say anything, but he doesn’t have to. She feels the most safe she has ever felt in the past two years in his arms. The sandalwood cologne fills her lungs when her nose digs deeply into his shirt, surely ruining it with her tears but she's not too worried about that right now.

After a few long moments of being wrapped up in his body, he halts the slow brushing of her hair that she had just noticed he was doing. Klaus’ head pulls away to get a better look at her and she tilts her head up to do the same.

“Come. Let’s get you inside.”

Caroline nods and lets Klaus guide her back into his bedroom. He shuts the French doors behind him and closes the cream drapes, the sounds of the city now greatly muffled by the extra barrier. Caroline walks over to the bed. Once she’s sat down, Klaus is already over by the fireplace and starting the fire. She tries to catch her breath. Although she wasn’t sobbing, she still finds it hard to regain herself. A crackle comes from the fireplace and when Klaus stands from his crouched position, she can see the small flames of the fire begin to lick at the wood inside. In no time, Klaus is right there, taking the coat from her shoulders and silently encouraging her to lay down on the bed. She pulls the soft covers over herself as Klaus’ eyes rove over her.

“Will you stay?” The words escape her lips before she can understand what she had said.

Klaus studies her for a moment but his attention is pulled towards the sliding doors that are cracked open just enough for him to see his brother. His brother’s presence now reminds him of the factions meeting they were supposed to attend tonight in light of the recent events between the witches, werewolves, and vampires, but Caroline is in a sensitive emotional position. Although he finds it surprising for her to feel comforted by him, he doesn’t feel as inadequate for the job as he would with anyone else. He decides then what he will do. New Orleans can wait. If anything, his brother is more than equipped with handling tonight’s meeting without him.

His head turns back towards Caroline. The deep blue of his eyes already indicate his answer to her and she slides to the other side of the bed to give him room. Klaus toes off his boots and just before he lays down, his eyes glance up to see the sliding door closing all the way and his brother’s footsteps retreating away.

When he’s settled onto his back, Caroline quickly tucks into his side. The move isn’t unexpected with her trying to seek a source of comfort. He slowly pulls his arm out from under her and instead wraps it around her body, placing his hand just above her hip as she buries herself into his ribcage.

Klaus lays there for a while, listening to the changes in her heart beat and studying the way it slows when she falls asleep. He only allows himself to shut his eyes when he hears his brother return an hour later, feeling more comfortable being asleep when at least one other Original is awake. He won’t take any chances with Caroline. He won’t risk losing her.

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

When Caroline wakes up that next morning, she isn’t shocked that she’s alone and the place where he had once been was vacant of his body heat. She never assumed Klaus to be the type of man to sleep in by any means being as paranoid as he usually was but it had seemed like he’d been gone for quite a while. As much as she wants to think that maybe he had some weird bout of inspiration to paint or do whatever artistic thing he prided himself with, she has the better judgement to know it was business related.

From what she could tell, he and his brother were the main one’s calling the shots in the French Quarter. Not unexpected, considering Klaus is, well, Klaus. But he has subtly mentioned from time to time whilst they were out yesterday that there was some tension between a few of the supernatural factions. Caroline imagines that it's more of a regular occurrence and something that comes with ‘ruling’ (Klaus’ words, not her’s) over the supernatural community within New Orleans. Thus, it doesn’t take a genius to understand Klaus must have a decent amount of business to conduct most of the time. She wouldn’t be all too surprised if he was out handing threats out like flyers first thing in the morning.

The mere idea that Klaus has probably been awake for at least a couple hours now prompted her to get motivated for the day. Although she didn’t directly have any plans other than possibly not getting her throat ripped out by Rebekah, she still needed to eat.

It didn’t take her long to get dressed and make her way out of Klaus’ bedroom. But when she made it to the hallway outside of Klaus’ study, she was a little torn on what she should do next. Klaus hadn’t exactly shown her around the Compound so she really only knows the way in and out of the Compound from his living quarters.

There were a few doors on each side of the hallway. She chose the route she was more familiar with and decided to start there. Fearing that she might be interfering in his family’s privacy, she only ventured into the rooms that were already open. She first found a parlor room with dark red couches and a small wet bar, next she found a very extensive library where she read a few of the titles of the books. Some were familiar and some were totally unknown to her, but she imagined that she wouldn’t know any books that were written in other languages like the French one she decided to flip open. After finding a few first editions, she thought it best to move on and keep her human, clumsy hands away from books that could be worth more than a couple thousand dollars. When exiting the library and finding the courtyard, she climbed down the stairs and got lucky when she found the kitchen.

Walking over to the fridge, she crosses her fingers that she doesn’t just see blood bags. Upon opening the fridge, she’s satisfied to find a tray of eggs, milk carton, a drawer dedicated to fruits and vegetables, a couple bottles of water, some condiments in the door slots, and a couple other assorted food items that were relatively healthy. She would do just about anything right now to satisfy her sweet tooth that she woke up with but she’s also grateful that the Mikealson’s even have food in general, so she’ll take what she can get. So, Caroline takes the grape jelly out of the door slot and then goes to search for bread. Surely if they had food in the fridge, they had to have some non-refrigerated items too, right?

Looking through a couple of the cabinets, she mentally notes which cabinet held the plates, glassware, coffee grounds, and such. She finally finds the bread and limits herself to two slices. She may be hungry but she’s also human.

Grabbing a plate and spotting the toaster conveniently placed on the counter next to the coffee machine, she places the slices of bread inside.

In that moment, she thinks of the simple weekday mornings just before school. Those so easy and simple times where she had convinced herself could be the worst for her. How wrong she was. Now, she misses those mornings where all she had to worry about was boys and if she was going to pass that week’s pop quiz. In fact, she can even say she misses the times where the worst that could happen was an unexpected visit from a particularly moody Original hybrid in which had a 50/50 percent chance of ending with a pair of toxic hybrid teeth in someone’s throat.

Now, Caroline realizes that Klaus must have either grown to enjoy watching her and her friend’s failed attempts to end his life or preferred to use ‘kid-gloves’ because if he were to kill any of her friends, he knew better than to think she’d ever forgive him. Either way, she feels somewhat lucky in an odd way that he hadn’t reacted as badly as she now knew he could have. Unlike Klaus, Silas had no attraction or reason to extend any amount of mercy towards her, which was extremely terrifying. Silas may be mortal now but he is also a very powerful witch. One that was able to keep up with her when she was still a vampire.

The ding of the toaster brings her out of her reverie. Caroline reaches into the toaster to carefully pull the slice of bread out. The front of her finger grazes the hot metal inside and she pulls it out as quickly as she can on instinct. “Damnit!” She whispers heatedly, knowing there were other vampires within the house. In the process of taking a step back as the pain still sizzles underneath her skin, she could see something in her peripheral vision. Turning her head quickly, she yelps.

“Shit!” She curses, jumping slightly in her own skin when she finds an unexpected figure in the entranceway of the kitchen.

A smirk graces his features and a deep chuckle escapes his lips.

“God, you can’t do that. I can’t exactly sense when you’re creepily stalking me anymore.”

He doesn’t respond but she thinks he gets the point. Klaus walks over to her and easily deposits both slices of toast onto the plate she had out. Fishing out a butter knife from one of the drawers and opening the lid to the jam.

“I’d like to take you somewhere.” His eyes glance over to her as she watches him spread the jam over the slices of toast before placing the used knife into the stainless steel sink. He then slides the plate closer to her and walks back over to the fridge to put the jar of jam away.

Caroline takes the plate and takes a couple steps over to the island counter where a couple stools sat. She sits and takes a bite out of her toast. “Now?”

“As soon as you are ready.” He then grins at her, clearly hiding something from her. “Although, I recommend you wear something you don’t mind getting dirty.”

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

They’ve been in the car maybe five minutes before Caroline began to question him on where he was taking her.

“Seriously?”

His eyebrow rises and he glances towards her with lighthearted eyes that tell her he was certainly enjoying her irritation. Caroline just resorts to glaring at him but it doesn't hold nearly the same weight that it had a few years ago when she’d glare at him then and he clearly knows it. Klaus’ eyes return to the road and Caroline sighs, settling further into the leather seat of his luxury SUV.

“If you can’t tell me where we’re going, can you at least tell me something?” She asks, thinking that maybe he would want to play the ‘hint game.’

A sly smirk puts the edge of his lips up. Instead of giving into her, he decides to veer off into a different topic altogether.

“Do you recall the period of time when Alaric helped train the doppelganger in the ridiculous hope that it would somehow keep her safe from my siblings and myself?”

Caroline is a little taken aback by his question. Obviously, she remembers. Elena had once tried to get her to join her and Alaric. What surprised her about it though was that he even knew about it in the first place because Elena had thought they’d kept it all ‘hush hush’ specifically so he wouldn’t find out. Although, Caroline now thinks that he would most likely know from pulling the information out of Tyler or having a hybrid tail them once in a while. Both scenarios are equally as realistic.

The Land Rover slows and turns down a dirt path that is cascaded with tall trees. Clearly, he was taking her somewhere in the countryside.

“Yeah, but I don’t see how that’s relevant unless you plan to drag me out into the middle of the woods and kill me.” She turns her head to look at him. “Because I will put up one hell of a fight.”

His chuckle is low but not in a dark way. The blue in his eyes gets a little brighter when he parks the car at the edge of a large clearing. There’s a few fallen logs and if Caroline squints just enough, she can make out the shape of a couple makeshift tents a couple hundred yards away. She feels the Original turn towards her after shutting the car off and she looks his way.

“Trust me, sweetheart, if I were to make you my victim, I wouldn’t need to take you to the Bayou.” The tone in his voice is as casual as if he were talking about dinner plans and the smile he dotes is edging on the side of diabolical.

She raises a brow and turns away from him as she opens the passenger side door. “Because that makes me feel reassured.” Caroline knows his lips tug higher up into his cheeks, enjoying her slight sarcasm and their back-and-forth banter. Sometimes she thinks he likes making her angry, she can’t really think of a reason why, but he seems to always draw that emotion out of her at times when he doesn’t really have to.

Upon getting out, she notices he rounds the back of the car and opens the tailgate. Klaus pulls two objects out and closes the tailgate before meeting her a few paces away from the black vehicle. Her eyes widen a hair and her eyebrows rise dramatically when she sees what he took out for the back of his SUV.

He holds two long medieval looking swords, one in each hand. Stepping up to her, he readjusts his grip on one of the swords and holds it by the blade, offering it to her by the leather wrapped handle. She physically hesitates, clearly confused about what his end goal was.

Klaus seems amused by her reaction and tips his head to the side.

“Go on, it won’t bite you.”

Her eyes shift from the sword in his hands and his eyes. Slowly, she grasps the handle of the sword and Klaus lets go. Caroline struggles for a moment, the sword being heavier than she had anticipated. Not knowing what to do with it, she lets the end of it sit on the ground.

On the other hand, Klaus holds his sword by the handle and holds it out diagonally in the air.

“Strike it.” He orders.

Caroline does nothing except look at him strangely before rolling her eyes. “Seriously? You brought me out here for your own amusement? Newsflash, I’m not exactly some minion you can drag out to weird places and play ‘swords’ with.”

Klaus sighs and lowers the sword down, expertly thrusting the point into the grassy ground.

“This is no game, love. As much as I’d like to be showing you my city, I have a vested interest in your safety and to keep you protected. From what I have come to realize within the past years in residing in New Orleans, I can’t be in multiple places at once. Thus, why we are here.” His empty hand motions along as he speaks and his eyes glance around the clearing at it’s mention. “I’d like to be able to say that I will be by your side at all times, but that would simply be false. Which is why I think it is pertinent and rather of astronomically great import that you have some ability to defend yourself.”

Caroline glances down at the sword in his hand. “With a sword?” She asks with a stifled laugh, almost amused by the thought of using a sword in an actual realistic fight.

“No, but it gives you a starting place and the ability to learn how to use spare objects as weapons.”

Klaus then raises the sword again and nods. “Now, strike it.”

[liliesoftherain]

Alstroemeria

Pairing: Bakugou Katsuki x Reader; Midiroiya Izuku x Reader -- one sided bakugou x reader(or is it???????)

Genre: Fluff, Slight Angst? Mentions of unrequited love so 

Summary: Alstroemeria: This flower has an array of meanings...but the beautiful blooms always connect to a similar meaning of friendship, love, strength, and devotion. Someone should have mentioned that it doesn’t have to mean all of the above.

A/N: Hi y’all, enjoy this quick one-shot as I finish my next chapter. This is loosely based on the Bridgerton series? Mainly just a Victorian ball au? I just want to imagine Bakugou in a cute waistcoat I’m sorry. Izuku i an Earl and holds title cause his dad is gone. Katsuki is a Marquess cause he’s the son of a duke, as he should.

Part 2--Bakugou’s POV

----------

You’ve had time to get used to the ache of heartbreak.

Skillfully hiding the pain you feel behind a taut smile, you turn away from where he was dancing and sweep your eyes along the extravagant ballroom before you. It really is a wonderous sight; the crystal chandeliers are polished and sparkling, the lavish satin drapes are pulled back by golden ropes and allow the guests to watch the dancefloor without interference, and the professional musicians upon the raised lift play beautifully to set a magical mood. 

You’re no stranger to these elaborate formalities, yet this is the first season you were truly allowed to partake in the events. The fourth ball of the season is just as important as the first, allowing the suitors to try and claim the affections of their wanted--more like, just claim stake in any favorable lady they could. 

However, you have been groomed your entire life for an event such as this, and you were hardly in any position to complain. Yet, that doesn’t mean you were completely uncaring to the idea of being arranged into a loveless marriage. You so painfully wanted your husband to be someone you felt something for--you wanted your love-match. Alas, you weren’t in the position to gain anything of the sort, were you? Not while his attention was on her. 

“These are such a bore, are they not?”

You are shaken from your thoughts, locking on emerald eyes that brimmed with amusement, and you can’t help but grin at the sight. 

“Why, My Lord, dare say are you not entertained by all the ribbons and ascots?”

“I would say not--I prefer a plethora of feathers and exuberant ruffled fronts. Much more fashionable items.”

You share a laugh, the tension melting away the longer you were in the presence of your childhood friend: Izuku Midoriya. The Earl is and has always been a very kind soul, one who you would once spend countless hours with playing in the gardens, and even more so hosting tea and forcing him to attend. As a child, he was always rather timid and shy, easy to persuade into just about anything. Perhaps that is why you and Katsuki always got away with your harmless teasing--well, some teasing more harmless than not. 

He was always nearby, conceding you to put him through the girliest of activities, and yet he never complained. He often returned the favor by forcing you to study, presenting you with books on subjects you couldn’t even begin to understand, and allowed him to rant on about every and anything he found of interest. He was often your escort to most events--with the proper chaperone, of course--and force you to listen off as he rattled endlessly over different theories he came up with from his travels abroad. 

Katsuki wasn’t as fond of listening to his rambles as you were, and often would shut him up with a fencing match or something similar--anything that could have Katsuki physically overpower him to get him to, ‘stop talking for more than two bloody minutes.’ 

Yes, you three were once as thick as thieves--however now...

Your attention flickered back over to the Marquess; his blond locks wild and untamed, even though he was at such a prestigious event, and the endearing sight squeezed your heart as it was so him. He now stood off to the side, chatting away with the miss that has held his attention all night. She was rather beautiful, with long juniper locks and stunning sage eyes; it is no wonder Katsuki would be so bewitched. 

“May I?”

You glance down, seeing Izuku’s expectant hand, and grant him the remainder of your dances on your card. You try to smile, but it falters at his knowing look as his attention goes between you and his other friend. 

He leads you to the dancefloor, holding you tight as you both being to waltz a varsouvienne. You allow the music and his soft gaze to consume you, laughing and jesting as the night went on. Katsuki ends up in the furthest parts of your mind, almost forgotten.

“Pardon--”

Almost.

“Miss (l/n), a dance?” Katsuki stands before you, a friendly sneer on his face as he stares at your dance partner. “A real dance, anyways. Seeing as the ever graceful Izuku may as well have two left feet.”

“Oh, most amusing, Katsuki.” Izuku rolls his eyes, yet stays holding onto you.

You miss the quick glance of Katsuki’s eyes as they sweep over Izuku’s grip on your waist--instead, you offer a silent thanks for his comfort before giving a polite bow of your head. 

“Of course, Lord Bakugou.”

You take his outstretched hand and allow him to guide you away; he spins you once, then brings you back into his embrace. 

“How are you this evening, (y/n)?”

“Very well, My Lord.”

“Now why are you acting with such formalities? Have I not won over your friendship after all these years?” His brow furrows as you turn your head downward. “Tell me, what is it that troubles you?”

“It is nothing, Katsuki.” the upturn of your lips does little to put him at ease, “I am merely feeling the effects of dancing--that is all.”

“Why? Izuku and you had only danced a measly three times--and you know you have to dance with me.”

You let out a snort of amusement, remembering the promise you made to both men before the season first started of saving them at least one dance.

“Yes, of course, I always make sure to save one for you, do I not?” 

“You do.” He chuckles, before smiling at your head. “May I say, your hair looks lovely tonight--alstroemerias again? It suits you.”

He spins you around once more, slower than the first, and you spot Miss Setsuna from across the way. Her frown is prominent as she watches the waltz continue, and in some twisted way, you feel triumphant; you know she’s after his status, and his good looks didn’t hurt either. That’s what every woman was chasing, after all. That’s what you were supposed to be chasing--but that’s not what you want. 

You’ve been in love with Katsuki since you were both children. You loved the little boy who would take you on adventures throughout the grounds behind your estates. You loved the kid who used to pick you alstroemerias for your tea-parties--it is now why they adorn your gardens and your wardrobe. You loved the young man who would--begrudgingly--let you practice various dances on him until you got it just right. You loved the teen who would bring you various trinkets from his studies and travels, just because. You loved the man who never failed to make you feel worthy and respected in the highest regard of the meaning. 

You loved all of him. 

“Yes--they are my favorite flower, after all.”

The dance ends, and you both dip low in respect, and for a fleeting moment, you expect him to stay.

But that hope shatters the second he loses focus on you and gives it to her. You muster the strength to look away. 

“Thank you for the dance, My Lord. I hope you enjoy the rest of your night.” 

Without waiting on a response, you turn and swiftly make your leave. All you want to do is find your mother and go home, your heart unable to deal with any more pain. On your hasty exit, you end up crashing into someone.

“I, I am sorry,” you gasp, hoping that they said nothing in return so you could continue and get some fresh air.

Why was it so suffocating in here?

“(y/n)? Are you alright?”

Izuku places a firm grip upon your arms, holding you steady as your chest begins to rise and fall in quick breathes. He takes your form in worriedly and quickly moves to escort you to the balcony, where there is no crowd and fresh air. 

Leaning against the railing, you focus on the lush gardens below--on anything to get your mind of Katsuki. Yet it all is in vain, as the pin in your hair comes loose, and an alstroemeria falls right onto the back of your hand. 

Your bottom lip grows unsteady the longer you watch the flower, and you have to blink back the moisture that has begun to collect on your bottom lashes. You don’t understand why it all hurt so much--you’ve known from the start that receiving his affections was slim to none, yet you still held onto the dim idea that he could also return affections. 

You had been watering this seed--this notion--every day, and it only grew stronger and stronger; its stem growing as if it were a vine, seizing every part of your being until you were helpless to the damage it had caused. You are tired--your body, your heart, it all hurts and you want to give up, but you keep pushing for this flower to bloom because something good has to come of all of this hurt, right?

And something does, but what you thought was a beautiful flower of love, strength, and devotion, he only saw one of strength in friendship. 

He may not realize, but it’s killing you that you two are seeing two different sides of the same coin; the opposite sides of the looking glass, unable to get to the other, only able to present a false front instead of the entire truth of feelings as a whole. 

You don’t even realize the tears have started to fall from your face until you notice you were no longer staring down to the darkness below, and had begun to soak the coat of your companion. You pull away, just enough to look into his eyes, and you see the concern and care he holds for you. Leaning back into his embrace, you don’t give yourself another moment to think how scandalous it must look to be held so fondly by a man you weren’t wed to--you need this hug more than anything right now, and that’s enough reason for the both of you. 

Izuku mumbles soothing words of endearment, stroking your clothed back softly--and while you can’t feel his bare skin against yours, you still shiver at the touch. He’s warm, comforting, and you find yourself calming down in his hold. You pull back, creating enough distance to be acceptable, and grant him a watery smile. 

He stares back kindly, a gaze of adoration, as he pulls another of your beloved alstroemeria from the clip behind your ear. 

“What are you--”

Izuku sets it on the balcony ledge, then unclips the flower from his breast pocket, delicately placing it in the same spot.

“A primrose--I think it suits you quite well.” 

You bring a hand up, briefly brushing over the soft petals before searching his expression for an answer. His smile only grows fonder, and he takes your hand away from the primrose and raises it to his mouth for a tender kiss on your hand. 

“Izuku…”

“If the Lady is willing to accept, may I be so bold as to call upon her tomorrow?”

One hand starts to fiddle with the fabric against your waist, suddenly feeling rather nervous as he continues to hold you other as he awaits your response. Your tongue darts out to lick your suddenly dry lips, a bashful smile forming right after.

“Of course, My Lord.”

“Fantastic,” he whispers, letting your hand fall back to your side as he stares with disbelief at your agreeance--you laugh at his wide-eyed look, “Then let me escort you inside, I do not wish to keep you any longer than you would like.”

You consent, taking his arm as he walks you back into the ballroom. For the first time that night--for the first time ever in fact--your mind is far from the Marquess, and you’re not concerned about it. 

So much so, you don’t notice the distraught-looking man leaving the balcony right before you both, nor the falling alstroemeria right after.

-----

Primrose: These flowers are seen as representations of young love and of feeling as though you can’t live without your lover. 

“...is the most overlooked flower when it comes to romantic flowers...”

[anothertimdrakestan]

Damijon Christmas Present!

FOR THE DAMIJON SECRET SANTA I HAD... @nymph-patt

dear nymph:

hi love! i haven’t written in a fat minute and i’m a little rusty so bear with me hehehe. i hope you have a wonderful holiday season! all my love -elle!

I’ve got a fluff christmas fic and a lil headcanon for ya! 

Merry Stress-mas

“You can’t plan Christmas like a battle strategy Dami,” Jon groaned as Damian wheeled a whiteboard into their living room. “Actually, I’ve found it to be quite similar. Pay attention Kent, I know sticking to the plan has never been your strong suit.” Damian’s foot was tapping like crazy, Jon noted his clear anxiousness- needless to say Damian wasn’t the holiday type. Makes it a million times harder when it’s your first Christmas together as a couple. 

*super-couple. 

Jon gasped as Damian flipped the whiteboard like a school teacher, revealing meticulously drawn out plans mapped in expo-marker. “We start with my family, we stay until Jason is ten shots in, after that Christmas always becomes a nightmare so we head out. With your super speed it’ll be only an 14 minutes 37 second trip to your family where we stay for the majority of the night. At the end you rush us back to Gotham to console Dick after Bat-Christmas fails as always. Our emergency word is tyrannosaurus should anything go wrong at the drop we flee. Any questions?” Damian was flying through the plans, pointing at bulleted lists and analyzing possible flaws. 

Jon took a deep breath, a smile creeping over his face. “I didn’t think you’d care so much about our first Christmas together with our families, it’s kind of sweet.” Lazily he reached for Damian, clinging to his back while Dami shook his head, mumbling as he edited the board. “Not really our first Christmas Kent and I definitely do not care about family tt,” Jon didn’t reply, he just smiled into the crook of Damian’s neck.

“Our suits bring down our aerodynamic potential so I’ve taken the liberty of adjusting our arrival time to 15 minutes 43 seconds. Does that sound accurate?” Jon hummed in response as he straightened Damian’s tie, it was already perfect but he’d take any excuse to get closer to Dami. “Ready my love?” Jon glanced at Damian who was checking his watch. “Yes.” Damian responded, absent mindedly clasping Jon’s hand as they made their way to the mansion. 

“DAMI’S HERE!” Steph’s screech announced. She was hanging off the banister as she stole popcorn pieces from the massive tree. “Wonderful- Miss Brown I must ask you don’t eat the decorations tonight, have some festivity,” Alfred shook his head as he made his way to Jon. “Magnificent of you to join us Master Kent, I assume you will also be heading to your family’s festivities as well?” Jon opened his mouth but Damian answered first. “Yes Pennyworth, we plan on just saying for hors devours,” his curt reply brought a knowing smile to Alfred’s lips. “Always planned with you Master Damian,” his accent was playful making Jon chuckle. 

Dick descended the stairs, Damian groaned at his bright green and red striped suit, Jon couldn’t help but laugh either. “Hellllooo super boyfriends! Are-You-Readyyyy-For-Tonight!” Dick practically skipped towards the two, pulling them into a tight hug before Damian could slip away. “We won’t be long Grayson we must attend the Kent family Christmas too,” Damian nodded curtly, shifting closer to Jon who got the message and moved forward into the living room. 

“Actually, where are all the bat-siblings? And where did Steph run off to?” Jon noticed no one was around but Alfred who was preparing something delicious in the kitchen. Dick began chuckling, a devilish smile spreading across his face. “Oh, everyone is down in the batcave. C’mon.” Damian looked taken-aback but Jon was never to shocked by batfamily-antics. 

The two followed Dick to the secret door. “Now, we heard from a little super birdy [Dick winked at Jon who was now openly grinning] that you were a little nervous about having to deal with two Christmas’ this year, so we felt it’d be easier for everyone if we just-” Dick popped open the door to a winter wonderland of a batcave. A large table was put out, filled with their family members. “Merry Christmas!” A chorus of laughter broke out as Damian’s jaw dropped. 

At the table were the batfam, Kents, and even a couple speedsters littered around. All were laughing and smiling at one another. It was the biggest family gathering Jon has seen ever. “No need for crazy plans my love, just enjoy tonight with everyone,” Jon whispered to Damian as he scanned the room. “I- How did you- Thank you,” Damian settled on the last words of praise for the wonderful man who made every single day better. “No need for thanks, I’d get you the world if you wanted it, but for now let’s have a very Merry Christmas!” Jon took off towards his family and Damian would help but feel the corners of his lips betray him with a smile. Heart full he made his way down to his family.

“JASON DO NOT FLIRT WITH KARA SHE’S OFF LIMITS!”

“WALLY DID YOU EAT ALL THE COOKIES ALREADY?”

“BRUCE, CLARK, STOP FIGHTING OVER WHO GOT THE OTHER THE BETTER GIFT. YOU’RE BOTH RICH!”

very merry indeed. 

~

Okay so I haven’t absorbed much batfam content at all for weeks so hopefully my spin on the HC is still cute : )

I don’t think Jon gets enough credit for how observant he is. 

Too often Jon is forgotten, the second super boy, the sidekick, the boyfriend, the man who left everyone for space. 

It’s true, technically. But Jon is so keen at reading those around him, especially the un-readable Damian Wayne that I would argue it’s a super skill in of itself.

He gets it from his mother you know, Superman was always a little dense, but, though no one believes it, he always had Lois to help him out. Too often the quieter, smarter, more analytical side gets forgotten and that’s no different with Jon. His friends don’t see the way he checks up on them, taking in their facial expressions and reading them to know the right thing to say at the right time to help them out. They don’t realize he spent whole days memorizing their heart beats and their breaths to know if they’re ever in peril. And they don’t see the way he looks at them so fondly, beyond grateful they’re in his life.

Lois sees it.

She saw it when Jon met Damian. 

A young boy mesmerized by the wittiness and strength in the human boy. The greatest irony, the Superboy more human than the murder weapon now called “Robin”. But the two hit it off almost instantly- though Damian may not agree to that last bit. 

Lois knew Jon adored Damian, every deep red was “Robin Red” every Wayne Ent. building they walked past brought up stories of his adventures with the youngest Wayne, every Justice League trip meant begging for his dad to send him to Gotham for the weekend while he was out. He was young, but Lois knew a pair of soulmates when she saw them. 

There were these nights when they were teens. Jon would burst out of bed and rush to his mother. He never needed to say anything. There was this look in his eyes, Damian needs me. “Go” she’d always whisper, pressing a quick kiss to his forehead thinking back to when Clark would do the same for her. 

She remembers the frantic December weeks Jon spent toiling on Damian’s Christmas gift. “What do I give a trillionaire who has the world?” Jon would whine and mope around the house for any semblance of inspiration. 

Your heart Jon, all he wants is your love. Lois always thought to herself, she was quite aware of the two boy’s growing infatuation with each other, her husband was always slower in the “feelings” department and if he was slow she imagined Bruce was a damn sloth. So, she let the boys feel safe in her presence. Damian slowly spent more time at her home when Clark was out, she grew to have a sort of friendship with Damian. He’d comment on whatever news article she recently wrote, endure a three second reply and be on his way. She was always astounded at how up to date he was on all her pieces. 

Lois was always proud of the love Jon showed Damian. She’d be the first to tell Bruce he needed to hug his damn kids, but there was a special kind of caring Jon held only for Damian. A love woven only for the two of them. Like an invisible string linking them no matter where in the universe the other was at, there was a friendship, a kindness, a passion, a love.

Overtime, Jon’s analysis of Damian led him to his own feelings. And over an even longer period of time Damian discovered his own. Jon never stopped caring, he never stopped worrying, and he never stopped loving. 

Those, are the parts of Superman that Damian, and the world, need most. 

~

Merry Christmas! <3

[reachgirl]

So..

Maddie had to basically raise and care for her brother when she was pretty young (from what we can gather), she was in an abusive relationship where her husband  cut her off from family and friends, then when she finally managed to leave him he came back to stalk and kidnap her and stab her boyfriend, and she had to kill him. Then she was held hostage at the call center. 

Buck had a difficult childhood (I think we’re safe to assume this much), then his sister left and it was obviously a big deal to him - and when she found him again she was almost killed by her abusive ex, he almost drowned and almost lost his friend’s son in a tsunami, had his leg crushed by a fire truck, had a pulmonary embolism, lost his job and his friends, his girlfriend left him because she couldn’t deal with the job, his other ex girlfriend used him as an emotional support crutch and then abandoned him without even giving him a clean break, his psychologist used her position of trust so she could sleep with him. Oh and his best friend / guy he’s clearly in love with was almost buried alive and.. it was never addressed again.

Athena’s fiancé was killed, she was almost killed by a serial killer, and her daughter almost killed herself, then she was kidnapped and almost killed again. 

Bobby’s wife and children died tragically in a fire that he blames himself for. 

Chim had an abusive dad, a mom who died when he was a teenager, he was bullied, his best friend sacrificed himself on a call and Chim was there to see it all, then he had a traumatic brain injury after a near-fatal car accident and his girlfriend left him right after, oh and he was catfished and stabbed by his girlfriend’s abusive ex-husband who then kidnapped her, and then she was kidnapped again at her place of work!

Eddie’s helicopter was shot down and his friend died, his son had to have multiple operations while he was away, his parents tried to take his son away from him, then his wife left him, twice, and then died in his arms. Then he was almost buried alive. 

Hen was bullied, her relationship with her ex put her child’s safety in jeopardy, and she inadvertently caused a young girl’s death, oh and she almost died in the earthquake.

And most of the issues I listed don’t even include the stuff that happens to them on a day-to-day basis. Or any of the stuff that happened to Michael, Josh, Karen, Chris, May or Harry.

Now obviously, you could do a show that actually dives into the trauma of emergency responders, but that would be a very different tone. There’s always the question of how realistic can these shows really be in 45 minutes and still give us these crazy rescue scenarios (Tsunami?? Mudslide? Plane Crash? Check) AND emotional development each episode. Realistically, the 118 wouldn’t be the ones - or at least not the only ones - called in to save people on a failed water landing / plane crash in the ocean. Their area of operation wouldn’t span from the coastline doing abseiling rescues to trying to run down a hot air balloon to bank robberies to train crashes in the middle of nowhere.

So we also can’t expect them to be completely faithful to actual trauma psychology, because that would most probably make for boring TV, but even if it didn’t, it just COULDN’T be the show we love so much. They do give it some space, like showing Christopher dealing with nightmares, acknowledging the slower pacing of Madney’s relationship because of her past experiences, Bobby’s unwillingness to forgive himself, Eddie’s anger management issues and poor coping skills in general, Buck not giving himself time to heal properly because of his need to be defined by helping people so he can feel ‘worthy’, and some characters even get to go and see a psychologist - with mixed results, that also aren’t properly followed up on, and when Eddie says he didn’t click with the psychologist that’s seemingly also the end of him dealing with his anger issues. A lot of the time, the show acknowledges mental wellbeing once, and then drops it completely - like Buck’s abandonment issues being dealt with only as a set up for Abby to come back. Lone Star does a little better with Judd’s trauma from his entire team dying in front of him, and his survivor’s guilt, and how that affects his relationship. 

BUT season 3 of 911 actually laid some good ground work with Eddie Begins, with Athena unsure of whether she will get back to work, with Hen considering changing careers, and Maddie and Chim’s relationship playing out the way it did. I really hope that a lot of the events in season 4 - the baby and the anxiety that comes with that (especially if you have shitty parents), May starting work as a 9-1-1 operator, Eddie and Buck going to Texas, Buck Begins, will circle back to some of these traumatic experiences and give them more room to breathe along with the new stuff that will inevitably come up. I mean we already know there’s going to be a freaking mudslide and LAVA and wildfires, so.

Maybe one of the reasons we love fanfiction is because it gives you room to explore a facet of the characters or their lives that isn’t given much room in the canon, maybe because it doesn’t fit the tone of the show or the writers are focusing somewhere else. I think it’s also the reason why buddie is so popular while actual canon ships are less so - it’s the same in a lot of fandoms. You’ll always have more fanfiction about the stuff you don’t get to explore on screen - the other relationships you already get to see played out, so it doesn’t feel as necessary to write about. So in fanfiction, we can give the characters space to breathe and deal with everything, and we can be realistic in how a new emergency doesn’t erase the trauma of past experiences, and how LONG it would actually take to deal with some of these issues in real life. There are SO many fanfiction out there in the 9-1-1 AO3 tag that do this so well, and that have a really good handle on how these characters would or could still be affected by this stuff, whether it’s panic attacks or nightmares or unhealthy coping mechanisms or emotional hang ups like guilt and feelings of inadequacy.(I think this is the reason why I tend to not like fanfiction that puts a heavy emphasis on headcanon for more trauma like kidnappings or abuse or childood trauma. There’s already so much stuff we have seen in the show, and in the hints we get about Buck’s childhood for example, I don’t need insult added to injury so to speak. But to each their own, obviously.) And I think that’s really cool and something we should talk about and seek out and write about, because it’s a huge reason why we care about these characters so much. And we should also continue to hold the show to a standard of not erasing the trauma, and give it space even when we’re realistic about how much space it can have in the kind of show 9-1-1 is. 

So I guess that’s a long way of saying I’m excited it seems that season 4 will focus a lot more in depth on character and dealing with all the stuff I listed above. And I can’t wait to see where Buck’s abandonment issues come from, or how Eddie and Buck could bond over having shitty parents. 

[jamiedc-they-them]

Breaking Point (Platonic)

Agents of Shield x reader maybe the reader was captured with Bobbi by ward at the end of season 2 and he torture her more because he knows if she’s hurt the whole team hurts cause she’s the youngest and they all want to protect her? She’s the one that gets shot then and not Bobbi? Love your writing!

Thank you so much! I hope this lives up to what you wanted!

Bobbi Morse wasn’t exactly in a great place, more physically than mentally. She was thrown into her cell, grunting as she hit the floor. She clawed at it with her hands as she tried to get up on her legs, to get to all fours.

Ward, however, just watched the whole time with a kind of shine in his eye as if he was enjoying her suffering. Bobbi was damn sure that part of him actually did. She was almost 100% sure of that.

What she wasn’t sure of, however, was what his endgame in total was. All he had done was asked for an apology from her for what she did to Kara (sure, she felt sorry. But she was honest when she said that she’d do it all over again,) but she didn’t give one. That led to her torture. To her pain to try and make her break.

“Look at you, always the fighter, huh? Ain’t that you, Mockingbird?” he asked in a mocking tone. She finally managed to turn and face him; trying to muster a glare with what remaining energy she had left.

“You know who’s not, though?” her face dropped, and he could definitely tell, “That’s right, y/n. The one, and the only. Y/f/n goddamn y/l/n. Let’s see if she’d give anything away. See if she’ll squeal where you didn’t. See if she’ll break and bring me back to SHIELD, back to Coulson. Back to –”

“You’re never getting your hands-on Skye, again.” She vowed, fiercely protective of her friend that had started to become a sister to her during their time together.

The whole team had been protective of you; you were a sister (to Fitz, Simmons, Skye, her, Hunter and Mack) or a daughter to others (Coulson, May, even her to an extent). You were the youngest, so their primitive instinct to protect made sense. Hell, even on his short time on the team, Ward had acted in an older brotherly fashion to you.

Obviously, now he was just another enemy on your list.

Bobbi had always had a maternal instinct to her; be that when getting Simmons out, or comforting Skye when she got her powers. She just seemed to be (like May) a natural at it, even if they wouldn’t believe you if you told them about it.

May might’ve been the mother of the team, but Bobbi was the older sister of them. Skye, Jemma and her all acted like that to you. You hadn’t had anyone else in your life before; being on the streets, but Coulson (like Skye) saw something in you and kept you on the team as you could fight.

Maybe that was why you were in this situation, now.

Granted, she didn’t know where you were in the building, she just knew you were in it. You were taken with her as well when not-May (Kara) took you both by surprise.

Despite your past, you had been a friendly type of person. You were still a little hostile and closed off (a bit more so than Skye) but you had slowly softened to them and that got you to where you were with the others now.

Now, she had a friend in danger, and she couldn’t exactly let that slide. Especially, not with this fucking psychopath.

“Don’t you dare touch her.” She managed to growl her threat; but Ward merely found it amusing.

“So protective. I wonder if which will shatter first; you or her. Which one will give up the location first?” He asked, probing on her fear for your life.

“You think either of us will? We don’t just betray and abandon our own, Ward.” Bobbi said, firmly.

“Well, no point asking you. Better go find the answer out for myself.” With that, he stood and turned around to leave.

“Wait! Ward, wait! Take me! Take me instead, please! She’s just a kid, Ward! WARD!" She yelled the first parts, but the last two where barbaric screaming; frantically trying to get the man to stop and see what he was about to do. See who he was about to hurt.

However, there was no evil cackle, there was no evil monologue about his reasons. There was only a door slam.

A door that held behind it a very worried and distraught Bobbi Morse. Who was trying her hardest to calm herself to focus on one thing; to get herself out and to save you.

 You stirred, slowly opening your eyes to see yourself with your hands tied to a table. Well, this wasn’t good; either someone had a massive kink, or you were being held hostage; if you were being honest, you still weren’t quite sure which yet.

Then it hit you, Kara had captured you; so, you now had your answer.

“There she is.” A chilling, recognisable, voice said to you. You slowly looked up from your hands to see Grant Ward making his way towards you.

You tried to move away, but it did nothing. Still, he looked a little impressed by your attempt, though you then found that the look was one of humour at your attempt to get out.  

“C’mon Y/N, I wouldn’t have tied your hands down if I thought you were going to try and run, would I? Don’t ruin my effort.” You tried to muster a glare, but you only gave him more of a terrified look.

“There it is there’s the scared kid I met way back when. Remember that, y/nn? When we were all together, that neat little family? Yeah, me too. Good times,” He said as he pulled a stool back and sat down opposite you, “Now, here we are. Your miles away from anyone you know. Although, I should tell you, Bobbi…. Bobbi didn’t make it.”

He had even softened his voice, making you believe it more. You looked up at the ceiling as tears pooled your vision. You didn’t even second guess his words, you believed them as if they were law; Ward even through in a look of genuine pity and slight sorrow to try and sell it all the more to you.

He was selling you poison, and you were just drinking it all in one go. He smirked a little, breaking you would be easier than he had previously thought. Maybe all your training had been for nothing. Maybe you were just that scared child Coulson had seen something in.

As to what, Ward didn’t know. You were a scrappy kid that had survived by the skin of her teeth. That was all, to him anyway.

Still, he was always open up to a surprise.

 Bobbi flinched when she heard your scream, it was loud and raw. Seemed Ward had wasted no time in getting to it. She did not know what he was doing, she didn’t care what he was doing. The only thing she cared about was getting out and saving you from the bastard.

So far, that was mainly trying to make a lockpick after throwing herself into the door a few times only to no avail.

The walls barely had anything on them. So, a plan if all else failed was to just smash through the thing and try that way. However, if she did that, she would be dead and then soon after so would you.

She did not – couldn’t – have that outcome occur. You both needed to get back to your friends; you both needed to get back to your family.

“What are you doing?” Kara spat as she passed the cell, stopping to check in to make sure she wasn’t trying the very thing she was about to do. That being an escape.

“You’re just going to let him do that to her? She wasn’t even a part of SHIELD when you were taken.” Bobbi said, trying to appeal to some humane part of the woman. However, this time she got the cliché evil smirk instead.

“Oh, you thought I’d go get Ward and tell him to stop, didn’t you?” She pouted mockingly, “Oh, I’m sure your friend will break soon enough though, if that’s any consolation. But, you’re right, she didn’t have anything to do with me being taken. So, I’ll at least put in a good word to make it quick.” She seemed to mean her words.

“No, no, no, no, no, no.” Bobbi said in a panic as she tried to reach through the door to grab her and turn her back, but Kara grabbed her arm and pulled her to the door, slamming her into it and making the woman fall back with another groan.

This time, she was slower getting up, her ears rang as she did so.

Kara, however, waited until she had gotten up into a sitting position once again before she spoke, “Try that again, and the next thing you hear will be a gun.” She sneered before she walked off.

Bobbi, however, was fast with her action before. She had grabbed a key that Kara had put in a necklace and swung to the back of her neck, clever move to subvert how easy it was.

Good thing Bobbi had learned that tool of the trade too.

 Ward punched you again, this time you had to blink to centre yourself once again. His “methods” of breaking you had been variations of hitting you so far.

You, however, just tried to take yourself somewhere better; somewhere nicer, somewhere that wasn’t this shithole. You tried to think about your family that you missed dearly; but that only made you think of Bobbi, your dead friend who had been killed as you hadn’t been fast enough.

A part of yourself told you that maybe you did deserve this fate. Maybe this was were it was all leading all along anyway, you had enemies out there who wanted you; maybe being killed by Ward would not be the worse way for your tale to end.

“Stay awake, now Y/N. Need you for your beauty shot for the others. Can’t have you bleeding out now, can we? Not when I can kill – a lot of stones with one…Ah, doesn’t work as well this time.” You heard parts of it as your ears rang, you were pretty sure your face was a mess at this point; you definitely knew that your nose was most likely broken.

He went to talk again, probably try and hit you again, when a loud noise broke his concentration.

“Kara?” He asked, worry genuinely coating his voice. Kara was thrown to the floor the next moment by a bloodied but pissed Bobbi Morse. Who, right now, was running on sister instincts, and mother hen mode.

Ward seemed to tell, as he pulled his pistol out. At first, Bobbi froze, thinking he’d shoot you and be done; but, just her luck, he shot at her instead. He missed, however, as you had a bit of fight left in you and tripped him over.

He really, really, wanted to shoot you. But he knew he couldn’t, that he needed you.

When he turned back, however, he saw that she was gone. While, part of him was angry at that fact, he smiled; now he had you were he wanted you. Now, she’d run back to SHIELD and bring them here; to him, to find you. Seemed it was starting to come together.

 Bobbi was running, just running with pure adrenaline keeping her going. She rounded a corner, taking a moment to collect herself and catch her breath; finally letting herself process what had just happened.

Well, what had happened was that (in her eyes) she had failed. She was out, sure, but you weren’t. You were still in Ward’s hands; and now he was probably going to kill you. It would be on her, she couldn’t let you down like that, however. She couldn’t let the others down; not with everything seemingly falling apart at the seams as it had been before you both got captured; with Skye now in a new place and all this going on.

Your death would surely bring it all coming crashing down around them. Burn SHEILD to the ground and send them into a spiral they probably couldn’t come back from.

You were like the glue to the team; you could fight like most of the them, but you were the one they wanted to protect the most. Being the youngest tended to do that.

Now she wasn’t sure if you were going to walk out of there alive or be pulled out in a body bag.

Still, she ran to the nearest pay phone. Was it smart? No, but she needed to get back to base to rally what remained of the troops.

“Who is this?” Coulson asked over the phone.

“Coulson, thank god,” She breathed into the phone in a rush.

“Bobbi?” He asked, then heard some rustling on the line.

“Bob?” Hunter, she let out a sigh of relief at hearing the man’s voice once again. He too seemed panicked but let out his own sigh at her own.

“It’s me,” She said softly into the phone, having calmed down a little, “I need some help.” She admitted.

“Where’s Y/N? Is she with you?” Coulson asked over the line, forgetting the whole formality thing, not when a life was on the line.

“That’s what’s happened…” She said as she told them her location.

 An old box was placed on the table, the bang waking you back up; Ward had placed two rusty nails in your feet to stop you from moving those next. He took two jack cables and attached them to the what you realised was a battery.

“There you are,” He said with some glee as he turned the battery on, “And there we go,” He turned to you, “Now, this is gonna hurt just a little.” His prewarning didn’t help with the pain as seemingly thousands of volts all went through you at once; like thousands of knives all stabbing you at once in different places.

“Babe, you promised you wouldn’t kill her. We need her, remember?” You vaguely heard Kara say, her words made Ward stop, and allowed you catch your breath and try to recover. Despite the fact that you were most likely to die here, you were glad that whoever had distracted Ward had got out.

“You’re right,” He conceded as he threw box in a rage, working through the last part of his adrenaline he gathered in that moment and turned back to your broken self.

“Hey, hey, hey!” He yelled as he clicked in front your face to get your attention, “Can’t have you leaving us just yet, kiddo. Not until SHIELD come for you that is.” He said as he moved into another room. As soon as he was gone, you had once again slipped away.

“Oh, thank god,” Hunter breathed out as he embraced the woman he truly did love, despite all their flaws and hardships, “I thought I lost you, Bob.” He admitted.

Despite herself, Bobbi let out a broken laugh, “Not yet, not yet.” She assured him as they pulled back in sync, just looking at each other for a moment.

It was Jemma who asked the question that weighed heavily on their minds, “What’s happened to Y/N?” She couldn’t help the quiver in her voice, Afterlife had gone to hell and she was sure she may have just lost one of her best friends to the fight going on over there.

Now she might lose another to Grant Ward of all people. Guilt ate up at her at the fact that she didn’t take another try at him when they went to get Lincoln and Mike Peterson.

“Ward has her,” Bobbi gulped as she told them, “I tried to get her out, I did.” She swore, hoping they’d believe her. It wasn’t like Bobbi Morse to get this emotional, this much of a wreck.

“Hey, Bob, we know you did everything you could do for her. You know Y/N, though, she’d do anything for us too. She made sure you got out so we could all get her out, together.” Right, yeah, Hunter was right.

Jemma seemed to know the frazzled state her friend was in, “I should give you a check-up, clean and patch you up.” To Bobbi it sounded like an offer.

“We need to focus on –” But, as it turned out, it wasn’t one.

“You’ll do no bloody good to her dead, would you? She did what she did, so you’d get out, like Hunter said. Now, let me help you so Hunter can get a team to find Y/N.” Jemma said in the best doctor voice she could manage, despite the circumstances they were currently in.

“What do you think he’ll do to her?” Jemma didn’t know how to answer Bobbi’s question as her own mind spun countless horrible images about that idea. However, soon after Bobbi spoke it, she wouldn’t have to wager a guess.

“Guys.” Coulson said as he approached them, serious face there but worry was there too, “Ward just sent us this.” He said as he held up a photo of you, more bloodied and bruised.

In fact, you looked dead.

 “Bob –”

“She can’t be.” Bobbi wasn’t sure who she was trying to bater with, really anyone at this point. Any deity, in case they did exist, really.

Jemma, desperately trying to keep it together, merely focused (after taking a breath to try and steady herself) on helping her friend mend her many small wounds.

“Why do more to her than to you?” Hunter asked.

Bobbi let out a shaky breath as she answered, “He wanted to see which one of us would break first. Figured that, because I didn’t, maybe Y/N would…or that, having to listen to him torture her would make me break.”

“Helped you break something,” Bobbi looked at him with a confused look, “Out, he helped you break out. Sorry love, trying to find the light in the dark and all that.”

“I need –” Jemma pushed her back down; despite her size, Jemma could be physically strong when she needed or wanted to be. This was one of those moments.

“You, sit down and stay there until I’m done,” Bobbi wasn’t about to argue, “Can you get a team and find her…please?” Hunter nodded at Jemma’s request.

“We don’t leave are own. That applied in the SAS, even Izzie, Idaho and others in that field had that code,” He waited until both women met his eyes, “And it damn well applies to hear too.” He said with conviction.

He approached Bobbi, the two holding each other’s arms, “Bring her home. And don’t die.” Was all Bobbi asked.

“You know me love, always one for danger.” Hunter said with a smirk.

Time to get the whole family back together. Coulson would do what he could with Skye, Hunter would handle getting you back.

He’d make damn sure of it that, one way or the other, you were coming home.

 May had even tagged along, seemed her own mother bear instinct had been ticked off when she had found out what had happened to you. Everyone Hunter knew on it mainly wanted to just get you out. But Hunter had revenge on his mind too; He could tell that Melinda May had the same idea going in.

“Come on, Y/N, where are you?” He asked himself quietly, going down the many hallways as he continued to look for you. Sweat was almost bleeding off of him at this point; mainly because of his movements, carry a gun and all his other items were heavy after all; but it was also the stress. He could turn the very next corner only to find you a corpse nearly cold.

 You woke up again, this time in a chair with your mouth gagged, you didn’t know how much longer you could hold out for without bleeding out, but you made damn sure to do your best to fight it. You weren’t someone to just give up; not went a slither of hope was still in the air that you could still get out of this.

You struggled against your restraints both on your hands and feet, nothing came of it. Fuck. You then tried to flip the chair, it moved a slight bit, but was then stopped by the chains that held it down.

You then noticed the gun. The sniper aimed at the door, you followed the wire and saw that the trigger was rigged to the door.

Your eyes widened, whoever your rescuer-to-be was going to be; they’d be dead within the instant they saw you.

You couldn’t let that happen.

 Hunter was starting to get tired; he was almost done with all the doors and almost out of hope. But he kept going, he made a promise; one to Bobbi and the other to himself to not give up and give in. To bring you home, not matter how that looked.

He braced himself against a wall, counted to three, then kicked the door in.

 You heard footsteps, then saw a faint shadow under the door. Now or never.

 As he kicked the door, a BANG! Went off, and blood scattered around his face. He was stunned by both the sound and the blood. But even more stunned to see that it was you who had taken the bullet.

“Y/ -- Y/N!” He yelled out as he dropped his rifle and to his knees, untying the restrains on your feet, then your hands as he laid you down.

“Y/n, love, can you hear me?” He asked, not getting a response. He put his finger to your wrist, letting out a breath as he felt a very faint pulse.

It was faint, but there. You were still alive.

 When you came to again, a bright light was in your way. You closed your eyes and tried to let out a groan, but it was croaky; the next moment, Jemma was above you, bright and relived smile on her face, “Y/N!” She said in her cheery voice, but you heard the slight crack.

She slowly got you up, readjusting your pillows for you as you got more comfortable in your new position.

She then, as gently as she could, hugged you, “I thought we lost you.” She confessed, you put a hand on her arm to remind her that you were still here.

She pulled back, sniffling a little, before letting out a teary laugh at the fact that you had survived, “Oh god, it’s so good to have you back!” She said, meaning every word.

The next few hours were a blur as each member came in to see you; Skye hugged you and apologised for not being there sooner, you just told your friend that it was ok and that you were happy she’d made it back too; Mack was a smile and one of his well known hugs; Coulson and May smiled and gave you a quick scan of their own (parents, right?).

Then it was Bobbi, she sat next to you and put a hand on your arm as if to ground herself. To assure herself that you, her friend, really was ok.

“I’m sorry I didn’t get you out.” She said, seemingly taking all the guilt.

“Bobbi, no one saw it coming. Besides,” You rested your hand on top of her own, “We made it out.”

She smiled, that was true. You had made it out in one piece. And she was right, you were a fighter; you never broke nor wavered.

And, she knew that if the tables were turned, you’d make the same moves she had.

As, in your line of work, you never left someone behind.