#it got really cold where i live for a bit so that gave me inspiration to do these :D

[number1mingyustan]

Still Yours

idol!mingyu x fem!reader

Warnings: kissing, cursing, grinding, lots of sexual tension, explicit smut, protected sex (missionary), fingering (f.), low-key rough sex, scratching, teasing, they're so cute and domestic ugh, teensy bit (a lot) of angst cuz i can't live without it, if you realllyy read into it it’s a lil toxic but they’re so cute 😪

Summary: When you’re with him, the time around you ceases to exist. You’ve got your own little bubble that’s immune to reality where he’s just yours.

Word Count: 5.1k

—————————————————————————

(a/n: i usually don't read/write content where they idols because I'm simply not a fan. but i read a jk fic like this recently and it was a masterpiece. to say the least i was inspired so shout out to that author and i hope you enjoy)

The cool outside air fills your lungs as you step onto the sidewalk. It’s not cold, just fresh and cool enough to rejuvenate you from the hot sweaty air from inside of the club.

It’s a lot emptier out here, it helps to clear your mind. There’s only two or three other people out here, having a smoke in silence or waiting impatiently for an uber.

Your mind is still just a little bit muggy from the alcohol coursing through your veins, but being outside has instantly given you clarity.

You just couldn’t be in there any longer. The guy at the bar just could not take a hint. He was cute too, the type of guy you would typically be interested in. You’d be lying if you said you weren’t interested in him at first.

But then halfway through your conversation and his hand touched your lower back, the guilt settled in. It suddenly felt so wrong. The guy in the club’s hand didn’t feel the same as when he does it.

Almost instantly, it registered in your mind. This stranger didn't compare. He had nothing on the guy who really has your heart.

The famous idol who doesn't hesitate to answer your phone calls or cook for you when you're hungry.

This guy was a nobody.

One phone call and you’d have so much better.

The stranger clearly didn’t pick up on your shift in energy, probably too drunk to notice how you started to pull away. You were suddenly uninterested in anything he had to say and it was exhausting to have to fake laugh and smile as you tried to make excuses as to why you weren’t going home with him tonight.

But he was persistent and suddenly felt too touchy. He probably wasn't touching you as much as you thought, but you were suddenly so aware of him that it felt wrong with him being so close. His very presence alone was irritating. You finally caught the attention of one of your friends and gave her the ‘SOS’ look. She drunkenly stumbled over to you and pulled away from the conversation somewhat smoothly.

You thanked her before letting her know you were stepping out to get some fresh air.

But now it's a little after one in the morning and your thoughts are clouded with him. Your mind begins to wander to the moments you've shared over the past few years. The pet names, the sleepovers with homemade face masks, the phone calls from his hotel rooms.

Now you're texting him.

You: you awake?

________

Mingyu sits at home on the couch, beer in hand as the TV flashes in front of him. He's watching a movie he's got no real interest in, but he can't sleep. He's been home for a little more than a day and he's still got major jetlag ruining his sleep schedule.

No matter how hectic his life has been, he always dreads the jetlag.

The buzz of his phone captures his attention and he can't avoid the smile that pulls on his lips when he sees your name flash on the screen.

Mingyu: nah, sleeping

You giggle at your phone, smiling at the device just as he is. Your hands move a little slower to text back as the cool air outside changes your body temperature. You shiver, blowing on your hands as they grow cold.

You: call me

The message flashes delivered briefly before your screen changes entirely. You're surprised to see an incoming FaceTime and not a regular call.

You hold the phone up to your face, fixing your hair before you hit answer.

He lays on the couch in the living room, the darkness surrounding him heavily contrasts the colorful beams of light that flash behind you. The loud music thumps in the background.

"Hi." He smiles.

"Hi," You grin.

You feel giddy inside. Partially because you were drinking a bit and mostly because you're talking to him again. It's been quite some time since you've seen each other.

"Where are you?" He asks first.

You take a moment to respond as you walk toward the curb. You fix your dress and sit on the curb of the sidewalk, holding the phone up to your face.

"At the club," You reply.

"Ah, fun night I presume?" He asks.

You shake your head. "Not really."

"Sorry to hear that Shorty," He says.

Your heart skips a beat at the nickname. Your heart always leaps when he calls you that.

"Yeah, not really my thing anyway," You frown.

"I remember, surprised you're even there this late," He comments.

You smile. He remembers.

"Took some convincing from my friends. It wasn't so bad when we were drinking earlier, but then it started to hit and I wasn't feeling it anymore," You say, chipping away at the white nail polish on your fingers.

"They didn't abandon you, did they?" He asks, voice laced with concern.

"Who? My friends? No, they were looking out for me but I just wasn't feeling it anymore so I told them I was stepping outside for a minute," You continue to chip away at the polish mindlessly.

"I don't like you being alone like that, especially if you've been drinking," He frowns.

"I'm okay, I promise..." You assure him. "I wanna see you though."

A boyish smile forms on his face. "Yeah?"

You nod. "You home?"

"Yeah, come over," He offers. "I'll get you something to eat and you can spend the night."

Your ears perk up from his words. Your heart jumps out of your chest in anticipation.

"Okay, I'll order a–"

"–Text me what club you're at," he interrupts. "I'll get you an Uber here."

______

You call another one of your friends while you wait. You’re surprised she picks up on the second ring. “HELLO?” she shouts into the phone.

“Hey love,” You say.

“Y/N WHERE DID YOU GO?? The hot guy you were talking to is still here, I thought you went home with him.”

The loud music thumps in the background, but you can surprisingly hear her clearly.

You shake your head. “I’m heading home, I’ll see you guys later.”

Of course, the terms of your NDA don’t allow you to tell them where you’re really going. You make up an excuse about not feeling well and she pouts.

“Aw but we were– Hana NO!” She interrupts herself and the line goes silent for a few moments.

You hear shifting and wait to hear her voice again.

“Sorry, we’re in the bathroom and Hana started throwing up. She’s fine now. You feel better though, and text one of us when you get home. Stay safe babes.”

“Okay, I will.”

Before you can hang up, she’s calling out to the other girls. “GUYS, Y/N IS GOING HOME.”

More shuffling suddenly fills your ears and female voice.

“Nooooo, don’t leave,” Hana drunkenly slurs.

You laugh. “I’ll go out with you guys again next weekend.”

After a little bit more drunken banter, you finally hang up and wait on the curb until your ride gets here.

____

Considering he's the one who ordered the Uber, you know he'll know exactly when you get there. So, you spend the entirety of the ride in the backseat fixing up your appearance.

You play with your hair, refresh your lip gloss, and adjust your appearance for the better.

When you arrive at the familiar home, your heart rate picks up and you open the door with shaky hands. You stand outside the car, purse in hand as you shut the door.

Just as you close the car door, his front door opens almost on cue. His full stature comes to your sight and your excitement bubbles over.

He leans against the door frame, grinning at you. He looks cozy, wearing a pair of grey sweatpants, a white wifebeater, and his glasses. Your knees nearly give out at the sight of him in his glasses. He looks so good. His muscular body is visible in the tee and you have to stop yourself from pouncing him.

His hair is definitely shorter than the last time you saw him. And it's been well, months since you've seen him. Two? Maybe even three? But that doesn't matter, what matters is that you're here with him now.

You try not to express how excited you are, but you just can't wipe the smile off your face. You walk toward him and he invites you in with open arms.

His strong arms wrap around your frame. You're so happy you could cry. Your arms wrap around him, squeezing his frame. You inhale, breathing in his scent. He smells like home. His touch is so comforting, this moment feels unreal. You hold him and appreciate him for everything he is.

He pulls away, looking down at you with a grin. He presses a kiss to your forehead. "Hi, Shorty."

You grin up at him, bringing your hands to his hair. You run your fingers through it. "You cut it."

He nods. "Couple days ago yeah, you don't like it?"

"I always like it," You tell him truthfully. "But it was a little sexier when it was long."

He pulls you all the way inside, closing the door and locking it. "I'll tell management to let me grow it back out just for you."

"Doubt they'll see me as reason enough for that," You say.

"They'll just have to deal with it," He runs a hand through his hair. "I'll never let scissors touch my hair again if you say so."

Oh my gosh. You hate him.

You hate how he makes your heart skip a beat and he somehow always knows all the right things to say to you.

You giggle. "I wouldn't ask you to do that, Gyu."

"You'd still like me if I was bald?" He asks.

"Yeah Gyu, I would." You admit.

"Oh wow" He has a boyish grin on his face. "You like-like me."

"Yeah well, you like-like me too," You remind him.

"Damn right I do, Shorty," He pulls you in by your waist. "Don't know why you're so far away."

You squeal when your body moves against his. "I'm still wearing my shoes! I need to take them off."

"Relax Shorty," He lifts you up effortlessly, placing you on the kitchen counter.

He drops down, undoing your heels and placing them on the mat next to his front door. He stands back up to his full stature, face mere inches above yours.

He leans in. "I missed you."

You look up at him with soft eyes. There's so much yearning behind your pupils, that it makes you wonder if he can see through to it.

"I missed you too," You admit.

You find yourself back hin his arms. His big hands circle your waist, pressing your chests together. But now, his lips are on yours.

The kiss is soft, just delicate enough to express how much he missed you. Your small hand cups his cheek as your lips move against one another. His touches are gentle, but they spark so many things inside you, igniting you from the inside out.

But your moment is cut short when your growling stomach interrupts.

You pull away just a little bit, brushing your nose against his, giggling to yourself. He lets out a genuine laugh, holding your hand in his. "I did promise you food, didn't I?"

You nod. "I believe you did."

He helps you off the counter and back onto your feet. He walks over to the pantry.

"Sorry to get your hopes up," He admits sheepishly. "I just got back so... there's not much."

"Oh that's okay, it can't be–"

You open the fridge, finding virtually nothing. Some milk, A couple water bottles, half a carton of eggs, a few bottles of liquor, and a can of half-eaten kimchi.

You wedge your way in front of him, looking into the pantry and it's somehow worse. There's only stuff that needs to actually be cooked, and there's not much of it.

You fall dramatically into his chest and he laughs. "I told you there wasn't much."

His hand touches your lower back as you sink your face into his chest. This time, it feels right.

"Why did you even offer me food if you didn't have any?!" You exclaim.

He holds your head in his hands, cupping both of your cheeks. "I don't know, I guess I forgot Shorty. You do that to me."

While his words are making your stomach turn, the hunger rumbling is a lot louder. "Is the milk in the fridge even good?"

"Yeah, I just bought it today." He says casually.

"You went out and bought milk... and nothing else? Knowing you had no food?" You question.

"I needed it to go with my cereal," He shrugs. "But that's not important. Look, there's some rice in here."

He grabs the uncooked rice out of the pantry. "I can make you some fried rice with egg and kimchi. I've got soy sauce somewhere around here."

"No I think I'll just take some cereal," You walk out of his grasp, making your way toward the fridge.

He pouts. "I can cook for you though."

"I'll take you up on that offer another time," You tap his cheek with your palm lightly. "I'm very hungry. And you've got no vegetable to go with, not even a green onion. I'm getting some cereal."

You open the fridge, grabbing the milk while he gets the bowls and spoons. You try to grab the cereal box from above the fridge, but you can't quite reach it. Mingyu comes up behind you, grabbing it with ease and a shit-eating grin on his face.

You frown, but you're too hungry to make any comments. The two of you sit at the table, each pouring yourselves a bowl of cereal. "You said you just got back?" You ask.

He nods. "Like two days ago, I think. My sense of time is a little messed up, jetlag."

You nod in acknowledgment. He continues to tell you about the past few months since he's seen you. You play friends catching up as he answers all your questions about his life as of recent. The shows, the photoshoots, all the traveling, filming, and preparations for the upcoming months as well.

He asks you about work too, although your updates are not nearly as interesting as his though. But he doesn't ask out of courtesy, he genuinely cares. He likes hearing about your life, likes just listening to you speak even if you're not the one doing Calvin Klein photoshoots.

The time flies, and before you know it, it's 3 in the morning. You always find yourself invested in him when you're together, like the world around you ceases to exist. You get caught up, failing to realize that time is indeed still passing, and a lot of it.

He pulls you in by your hips, pressing your back onto his chest.He pulls the bowls and utensils out of your hands swiftly and turns you around.

"Nope, don't worry about that," he drops them into the sink. "You just go hop in the shower, I'll give you one of my t-shirts."

"Are you saying I stink?" You accuse him playfully.

"Never, Shorty." He kisses your cheek. "As much as I love this little dress on you, it's getting late and you should be in something comfy. Now go." He playfully taps your butt, sending you to the bathroom.

You look back at him, feigning offense as he grins.

______

When you step out of the bathroom and into his bedroom, there's a t-shirt laid out for you with a pair of boxers. You get dressed before walking down to the living room.

Mingyu lays there, scrolling through his phone. When he hears you enter, his attention shifts to you immediately and he gives you a warm smile.

He sits up all the way and pulls you onto his lap so you're straddling him. "Thank you, for letting me using the shower and for the food."

He holds you close to him. "Of course Shorty

"Where are your clothes?" He asks.

"Folded on the dresser in your room, why?" You ask.

He pulls you off his lap and stands to his feet. "Wanna wash them so you can have them tomorrow. Are they washer and dryer safe?"

"Yeah, but you don't have to worry about it." You assure him.

"Don't worry about it, I have clothes I need to was anyway. I'll just through yours in with them," he says.

He disappears up into his room and when he emerges, he's holding a basket of clothes and your dress on top. He walks down and walks over to you on the couch.

"That's all you had? Just the dress and the panties? No bra?" He asks.

You grin. "Nope."

He inhales sharply, but pushes his thoughts aside. "Come with."

You follow behind him downstairs. He leads you to the laundry room in the basement.

You sit on the dryer as he loads the washing machine. There's a comfortable silence in the atmosphere. Everything about this is so comforting... so domestic. It's exactly what you needed.

"Hand me that?" he says, pointing to the detergent behind you. "Please?"

You grab the detergent, handing it to him. "Thank you, Shorty."

After he's done with it, he hands it back to you and adjusts the settings before starting up the machine.

"Ready for bed?" He asks.

You nod, reaching your arms out to him. He turns around, lifting you off the machine and piggybacking you all the way up to his bedroom. He drops your body on his plush mattress and strips down to just his boxers. He places his glasses on his dresser gently. Immediately after, he climbs under the covers. You join him, making yourself comfortable in his bed.

He pulls your body against his, yearning to have you close to him. He looks at you with a softness in his eyes. His hand runs along your thigh gently and innocently.

But right now, close doesn't feel close enough. You've missed him so much, you want to feel consumed by him. You need him inside of you.

You press your forehead against his, look at him with soft, sultry eyes. His hands start to wander, moving from your thighs to your butt.

Almost simultaneously, you pick up on one another's energy. The sexual tension grows and pretty soon his lips are on yours again. You moan softly against his lips.

He brings his hand to your cheek, cupping it softly as your lips move against his in perfect harmony. He takes everything you give and vice versa,perfectly in sync.

Pretty soon, you're itching to get undressed even though his clothes are extremely comfortable. You're eager for more of him, pulling away from the kiss.

"Gyu," You breathe out.

"I know baby, fuck–I know," He pulls you onto his lap so you're straddling him once again.

He lifts your hips enough to pull his boxers off of your body. The t-shirt you're narrowing is next to go, leaving you completely naked on his lap.

"Fuck," He whispers. "You're so pretty, Shorty. Need you so bad."

You lean over, leaving a trail of kisses on his neck. You know better than to leave marks, but you grind down against him slowly. He lets out a shaky breath, holding your hips as you move against him. "Mm-fuck."

His cock grows stiff beneath you, poking against your bare core. You grind down harder, feeling the veins of his cock against your clit through his boxers. "Feels good, Gyu.." You moan.

You chase the friction selfishly. You know you could cum like this, and with how good it feels, you're not entirely against it. But his hand comes in between the two of you, pressing against your pussy to feel how wet you are.

"Fuck, Shorty you're soaking..." he groans.

You can only nod in agreement as the pads of his fingers graze your clit. You're dripping on his fingers, so much so that he could easily slip–

"–You want my fingers?"

Fuck, he knows you so well.

You nod eagerly. He pinches your clit, making you yelp.

"Use your words baby."

You mewl. "Yes, fuck yes, please."

He lifts your body, flipping you over so you're underneath him. He holds himself up with his arm, hovering over you as he slips two fingers into you with ease.

Even though it's just his fingers, he can feel how tight you are. Your cunt stretches around his digits as he pumps them into you. You moan out, feeling the way the pleasure builds in your lower region.

His fingers are so skilled and he knows your body well. He knows that when he curls his finger, you're gonna squeeze your legs together and cry out.

Which is exactly what you do when he curls his fingers inside of you. He pries your legs back open, picking up the pace of his fingers as you moan out loud. "Ah fuck–nngh."

His cock twitches in anticipation as he pleasures you. He's not focused on it right now, but your pleasure is his pleasure.

"Shit–I'm gonna cum," You warn him, gripping his bicep.

He grins, teasing you with his words. "Already, Shorty?"

You breathe out, pushing your hips against his hands. "Fuck– 's been a while.

Oh?

His digits press against the sweet spot deep inside of you and you arch your back up off the bed and cry out. "You don't touch yourself when I'm not here, Shorty?"

"Not enough–ah!" You moan. "Can't cum."

You know you'd never admit this if you weren't drinking earlier or on the brink of an orgasm. But your words affect him more than he lets it show.

He's ruined you.

That means you haven't slept with anyone since he last saw you. And to top it off, you can't get yourself off without his help. A sense of pride fills his chest and only encourages him to go faster, pushing you over the edge.

Although, the same can't be said for him. The pride in his chest is pinched by a small twinging of guilt.

It's not something you really talk about with each other. You know it happens, but you choose not to acknowledge it. As much as it feels like it when you're together, you're not together. It's been nearly three years since your relationship, if you can even call it that, came to fruition.

But with him constantly busy and on the move, you've spent a small fraction of those three years in each other's presence. When he's not with you, he's performing and traveling the world. He catches the attention of plenty of other pretty girls who are more than willing to sign an NDA to spend the night with him.

He's just a man after all. And a famous one who constantly travels at that. He's got needs of his own and the means to fulfill them.

He's someone you trust. You know he'd never catch something and risk bringing it to you. He's too careful, has too much at stake with his career.

But those thoughts only cloud his mind, and for a brief moment at that. With you underneath him, writhing and gasping for air as you cum on his fingers, his attention is fully on you.

He pins your body on on the bed, adding more pressure as you grip his bicep. You nails dig into his skin, sure to leave marks. He doesn't mind though, not when you cry out his name and screw your eyes shut in pleasure.

Your hips move on their own, grinding against his fingers as you ride out your orgasm. "Shit, Shorty... that's it, yeah."

It takes a moment for you to come down. When you do, you blink your eyes open, loosening your grip on his bicep. He buries his face in the crook of your neck, warm breath fanning against your neck. His fingers slip out of you slowly and you whine as the loss of touch.

His hard length presses against your thigh, making it very known how badly he needs you. You think about pushing him down on the bed and sucking him dry, but you'd much rather have him inside of you.

You press a hand on his chest gently, pointer finger lightly dragging on his skin. "Mmm, that was so good, Gyu."

"Yeah?" He lifts his head up.

You bite your lip seductively and nod softly. "Yeah... want you to fuck me now, though."

He licks his lips slowly. "Want it, or need it?"

"Need it, need it so fucking bad, Gyu" You pull at the material of his boxers. You're so needy. He can hear it in your voice and it's clear in your actions. He wants to give you everything and more.

He presses his hips down against you and you help him to pull of his boxers. You wrap your hand around his cock and start pumping him slowly. He lets out a breath of relief.

His cock is hard and heavy in your hand. It's pulsing and aching to be touched. He inhales sharply when you circle your thumb around the tip, smearing his precum around.

You love it when he's sensitive like this, so reactive. It reminds you that you have just as much of an effect on him as he does on you. You continue to pump him, and he reaches into the drawer of his nightstand and pulls out a gold package.

You snatch the condom out of his hand. "I wanna do it."

He grins. "Okay, Shorty."

You tear open the packaging with your teeth.

"You know, you shouldn't do that," He warns you. "Could accidentally puncture a hole in it. Wouldn't want another pregnancy scare would we?"

You toss the gold wrapper onto the nightstand. "First of all, you use your teeth every time we do this. Second of all, you used your teeth to open the condom the time we had to scare." You remind him.

He smirks. "I learn from my mistakes, baby."

You ignore him, rolling the condom onto his length and laying on your back. He hovers over you again, stroking his cock a few times before lining himself up with your entrance.

When he enters you, the stretch is immaculate. You both breathe out, moaning as he bottoms out inside of you. He sinks further into you, deep into your warmth and you stretch to accommodate him perfectly.

"Fuck... Gyu," You moan out, wrapping your arms around his muscular back.

"Shorty... fuck me–" He groans. You breathe out, wrapping your legs around his waist, pushing your hips up into him. You move in perfect sync as his hips drive into yours. His neck nearly goes limp as his head dips down. "Yeah, Shorty–just like that–uh. Fuck, you're so hot, baby."

"Mingyu–" You moan out. "I missed you so much... so fucking much."

His hips snap back, his cock thrusting deep into you. "Missed you too, missed everything about you."

His thrusts slow down, but they don't stop. He taps the side of your thigh, silently telling you to unwrap your legs around around him. You oblige, and he lifts your legs up.

He drives his cock deeper into you, bringing your legs over his shoulders. You gasp out at the sudden stretch and wave of pleasure that hits you.

The pure force of his thrusts, how good he feels as the pain turns into pleasure into pleasure, the noises he makes – it's overwhelming in the best way possible. It's so much, but it's so good, you don’t want him to ever stop. Your mouth falls open in a silent moan as your breath catches in your throat. You eyes fall shut as your face scrunches in pleasure before the sensation courses through through you and you can hardly take it. Your hands grip the sheets tightly.

"Fuck... pussy's so good," He groans. " 'S all mine."

"Hah-fuck," You cry out.

"Tell me it's mine, baby," He demands. "C'mon Shorty."

Your eyes fall shut and your breathe in through your nose as his cock pushes deeper into you. Your voice is broken and soft. "It's all yours–"

He thrusts into you particularly hard. "Say it again–louder."

"Fuck! It's all yours."

It's a lie, somewhat. Everything between you two is complicated, yet simple. But in moments like these, you don't focus on the small details or realities.

"That's what I fucking thought," He groans.

You whimper, pussy fluttering around him. A telltale sign that you're close to the edge. His pace doesn't falter, and he continues to fuck you as your orgasm courses through your body.

Your body spasms beneath him, writhing to escape the overwhelming pleasure. He doesn't let you though, pinning your body down as he continues to drive his cock deep inside of you.

"Fuckfuckfuckfuck–uh!" You cry out. Tears are brimming the corners of your eyes.

Your pussy tightens around him, convulsing as you cum for the second time tonight. He watches as your face twists and contorts with pleasure, a sight that remains forever etched in his memory.

You're still coming down while he's fucking you, grunting and groaning with each thrust of his hips. There's sweat dripping down his body, causing his skin to glisten in the moonlight.

Your mind is hazy, still struggling to process all the pleasure you're body is enduring. You're growing overstimulated, but you can tell he's getting close.

His hips lose their rhythm, thrusts growing erratic and uncoordinated as your pussy milks him. He lets out a long groan, cursing out your name as he spills his load into the rubber.

His chest rises and falls rapidly as he sits up. He presses a kiss to your ankle before pulling out of you and allowing your feet to touch the bed.

His body is spent, and the soft look in your eyes relaxes him. It makes him feel blissful and at ease, it makes the sleepiness creep its way into his body.

You wrap your arms around his neck softly pulling his face toward yours. "All good?"

"Fuckin perfect," he sighs with a smile.

He's too close and too tempting not to kiss. So you do, softly pressing your lips against one another. The feeling in your heart is overwhelming. You don't know that he feels it too, two hearts moving rapidly yet somehow in perfect sync.

It's moments like these where there's a conundrum of things weighing heavily on your mind that you want to express or say out loud, but you don't. You know better than that, and so does he.

So a kiss will have to do. To speak the words that will remain unspoken and seal it closed. A silent way to express the thoughts that run through your brains and the emotions that are pouring out of your hearts.

So you kiss him, because that's all you can do for now. While he's still here, while he's still yours.

___

After you two clean up, you climb back into the bed. You face each other, laying on your sides.

His eyes are closed, but he's not fully encaptured by his slumber. He's halfway there though, pouting in his state of rest with a soft expression. He looks so peaceful, so cute. Such a contrast to the man who had your legs thrown over his shoulders only minutes prior.

You press your hand onto his hair, pushing it back ever so lightly as you admire his features. You see the smile tugging at his lips. "Go to sleep, Shorty."

His eyes don't open as he speaks to you.

"Sorry," You say sheepishly. I was just admiring."

"Cute, you can admire in the morning though. Go to sleep, baby."

You nod, although he can't see you, and exhale softly. You adjust the comforter and his eyes blink open slowly.

"I'll make you breakfast in the morning," he offers, pressing a kiss onto your forehead.

You hum, smiling to yourself. "lemme guess, cereal?"

A breathy laugh escapes his lips. "Alright, I'll take you out for breakfast, or we can order in if you can't walk."

You punch his shoulder playfully before burying your face against his chest. You fall asleep in his arms peacefully.

_______________________________________________

© number1mingyustan - Do not repost without permission.

[kleine-joost]

Whine & Dine 18+ MDNI

Joost Klein x Fem!Reader

a/n: this too me way too long to write!! i tried to make it smutty but i just can't help writing cute fluff :)

WARNINGS: joost being a MUNCH, reader is AFAB, uuuhhh smoking?, there's a 'good girl' in there too

You’d always loved the process of getting ready for a first date. Choosing the perfect outfit, making sure your hair looked effortless, yet tamed, and the shot of liquid courage right before you stepped out the door, oftentimes it was more enjoyable than the actual dates you went on.

Either the guy couldn’t hold a conversation to save his life, or he forgot to mention one tiny detail like he was still living with his ex, or he’d make a comment about how you weren’t afraid to eat in front of a man. Your love life was a long string of red flags and ghostings. But you always persevered.

Tonight felt like a good night for you; you had a pep in your step and you were feeling confident. The guy seemed nice enough in the short conversations you’d had on the dating app where you matched. He was one of those sensitive, creative types, and he looked just gorgeous in his photos.

The restaurant you were meeting at was only a short walk from your apartment, so you made it there with plenty of time to spare.

You’d never been, but you must’ve walked past it a hundred times. The place always gave off vibes that were just a bit too cool for you, with its ornate lettered sign and rooftop bar open every weekend in the summer that blasted lo-fi beats that echoed through the streets.

Walking in, you were shocked at how cold it was inside. You felt goosebumps prick up all over and a shiver went down your spine. The room was quite loud, the sound of knives and forks clattering on plates and lively chatter disoriented you for a second–or maybe that was the tequila shot finally kicking in.

You saw the golden hair at the bar just by the entrance. A flash of excitement jumped through you as you approached. 

“Joost?” You asked tentatively, partly to not frighten him and partly to soften the blow if you’d picked out the wrong person at the bar.

He turned around and you got a good look at his face in the glinted orange light of the restaurant, highlighted with blue neon that shone over the bar. He looked…different in three dimensions. Seeing him properly had you smile, as he smiled back at and stood to give you a polite, short hug.

“You’re early!” He laughed. Oh, his laugh.

You chuckled. “You can’t talk!”

“I like to be prepared!” He feigned offence.

You let out a giggle, the kind of giggle normally only saved for when young girls talk to their schoolyard crush–you weren’t quite sure how you conjured it.

You were relieved when the conversation flowed so easily over dinner. You talked about friends and films and your teenage years. You’d learnt Joost was a musician–he was actually doing quite well for himself on that front–and though his songs didn’t really seem like your scene, you made a mental note to listen to a couple at least, he was so passionate when he was talking about his music influences growing up, it sparked inspiration for you to branch out.

You both finished your meals and they’d been taken away by a very sleep-deprived looking busboy…but you just didn’t want the night to end. And you felt like you’d gotten to know Joost well, but you didn’t know him that well. What would he think about you if you wanted to keep the night going?

You dwelled on the thought as you paid–well he paid, much to your protests– and both made your way onto the street outside. The sun had gone down now and streetlamps let off a soft aura every ten feet down the road.

Joost immediately took a cigarette packet out of the pocket of his jeans and placed one between his lips–lips that you had stared at far too much during the evening–before holding out the packet to you with raised eyebrows, silently asking if you wanted one. You grabbed the box and took one out, along with the bright green, plastic lighter in the packet as well. You tried to light it a couple times, but the spark on the lighter wouldn’t catch. Joost saw you struggling. 

“Sorry, it’s a bit old, you have to shake it a bit before you light it,” he said with the unlit cigarette still between his lips and his hands stuffed into his pockets.

You shook it a few times and tried it again…and nothing.

“Here…” He took a step towards you and grabbed the lighter, shaking it a few times and lighting it immediately. He held the flame to the end of your cigarette. “I’ve got the magic touch.”

You both stood on the pavement outside the still-bustling restaurant in a comfortable silence. Between drags on your cigarette, you snuck looks at him leaning against a small planter across from you, he always managed to catch you looking.

“So, uh, did you drive here?” He asked, breaking the silence.

“Walked, just live down the way…” You pointed to your right, to the direction of your apartment building. 

“Nice, nice…” He trailed off.

“Um,” you stuttered out, getting his attention again. “Would you mind…walking me home? If it’s not too much trouble, it’s just that it’s dark and…”

“Sure,” he said, cutting you off with a smile.

You breathed a sigh of relief. You were always very street smart, and you were pretty good at picking up on if someone was dodgy or not. There was just something about Joost that made you trust him, he seemed very honest, and you saw how his hands shook when you first met; you knew he was just as nervous as you.

As you walked, you continued to chat–just smalltalk mostly, he was telling a story about his friends from school. His face lit up when he spoke about the things he loved, you could tell he had so much passion about music and his friends and art. 

You didn’t notice that along the walk, you both slowly started to drift towards each other, not until your fingers lightly brushed against each other. Without hesitation, he grabbed your hand, fingers firmly intertwined with yours. And he never even faltered in conversation, but you saw his smile as you held onto him–a smile you returned.

Eventually you made it to the front of your building. As you slowed your heart hurt just a bit that the night was coming to an end.

You both stood in silence for a moment, you’d let go of his hand now and your palm was much too cold.

“Well…” You started. “I should…”

Joost nodded. If you weren’t so wrapped up in your melancholy you would’ve noticed the same look of sadness in his eyes.

“This was really fun though,” you continued. “We should do this again sometime.”

He smiled, you could for sure get used to that smile. “Yeah, I’ll text you when I’m free so we can get a drink somewhere or something.”

“Sounds good,” you grinned back at him, another moment of silence. “Get home safe.”

He nodded, then leant forward with his arms open. This hug was…stronger than the quick, polite one in the restaurant, you were truly engulfed in him this time, you could smell the cologne he was wearing; something warm and homely, but not like the kind that smelt like food, you couldn’t quite put your finger on it exactly though.

You didn’t want to let go, locking your hands around his waist. You couldn’t say how long you both stood in that embrace, it was like time stopped as you were taken up by him. You turned your head to look at him, he was looking at you.

Without too much thought to convince you against it, you closed the gap between your faces.

His lips were softer than you thought they would be, and his mustache didn’t tickle your face like you assumed it would have. Joost deepened the kiss, placing a gentle hand on the side of your neck. He was being so gentle, like you could’ve shattered under his touch. But you were hungry, you wished it would last forever, getting totally and utterly lost in him.

Once you had pulled away for a proper breath your bodies separated, you weren’t quite sure what to say.

“I should get going,” he said, breaking the silence.

You nodded. “Good night, Joost.”

“‘Night.”

You began to walk towards your building, a smile on your face that you couldn’t even try to hide. You entered the code to get in the front door and opened it, looking back to where Joost was standing. He wasn’t making any effort to walk away, he was just standing, watching you with a smile much like yours.

In a moment of unfound confidence you spoke, not even registering what you were saying as it left your lips. “Would you like to come up for a drink?”

It was a loaded question, you knew it and he knew it. But the aching between your legs wouldn’t let you get embarrassed by your forwardness.

He silently followed you into the building, grabbing your hand that held the heavy, tinted glass door for him as he stepped over the precipice. No words were shared as you waited for the elevator; his warm hand spoke enough, lightly tracing the end of his thumb over the back of your hand.

The elevator was empty apart from you two, and it seemed almost to halt to a stop as it slowly chugged up to the seventh floor where your quaint one bedroom apartment was. You leant against the cool metal wall opposite the doors, Joost was doing the same next to you.

There was an air of…anticipation surrounding you, mixed with excitement, and a little apprehensiveness. You looked at Joost, this was one of the first times you’d looked at him when he wasn’t looking at you, you could truly look at him now, really perceive him. You noticed the bags under his eyes, and how the colour of his eyebrows transitioned from a deep gold to almost pure white. He told you over dinner that he was bullied in school for the way he looked, and you could understand why–kids are cruel–but he looked perfect to you.

He caught you staring out the corner of his eye, he smirked at you. You let out a low chuckle as heat rose to your cheeks when he turned to look at you.

“You look nice,” you said in a low whisper.

“Nice?” He feigned confusion.

“Like you look kind, that sort of nice,” you continued. “Also you just…have a nice face.”

He showed off a proud smile.

Your apartment was warm, you’d left a window cracked open and the August air crept its way in over the course of the evening. Joost watched as you hung up your jacket by the door, pulled off your boots and dropped your keys on your small, cluttered dining table. He wasn’t sure what to do–or even how to stand–as you stepped into your tiny kitchen and opened the fridge.

“I have…some orange wine, but it’s not very good, or I have pear juice.” You looked up at him, fidgeting in his spot near the front door. “You can hang up your jacket, take off your shoes if you like.”

“Thanks,” he smiled, then slipped his sneakers off and took off his jacket. For the first time you saw all his tattoos, his arms were littered with little scrawled drawings. You wondered if each of them had a meaning, you would love to hear the stories behind them all. “Uh, I’ll have some pear juice.”

You sprung to action, grabbing two mis-matched glasses from your cabinet and pouring the juice into each of them. Joost followed you as you carefully stepped towards your sofa–so you didn’t spill any of the sticky juice onto your floor.

“Your place is nice,” he commented once you were both comfortably sitting on the sofa–at a distance.

“Thanks…” You looked around at the white walls that were decorated with framed posters of a couple of your favourite films. “It’s good for now.”

“It’s a home…” There was a look of melancholy in Joost’s eyes, it made you wonder. “I travel a lot, so I’m not really home a lot.”

You nodded, taking a sip.

“I can see you in here though, it’s-uh-it’s very you,” he continued, a small smile on his lips.

Something about Joost seeing you in your home–your haven–made you smile. He’d been so attentive over dinner, and it made you happy to think he was listening to you, understanding you.

“You’re very sweet,” you said after a short moment of silence. You’d noticed that silence was comfortable with Joost, you didn’t feel the painful urge to have to fill every second with a new question or an unrelated story. Conversation just felt so natural with him.

He turned away, pressing his face into his shoulder at that. You saw his cheeks redden. Part of you loved how the smallest compliment made his blush so much, you hoped you’d be able to give him more, deeper compliments just to see what he would do.

You were feeling brave. You placed your glass of the coffee table and slithered towards him on the sofa, placing a light hand on his knee. His skin was hot. He looked back towards you as you grabbed the glass from his hand and placed it next to yours.

“Is this okay?” You asked in a low voice.

Joost didn’t reply, just placing a gentle hand on the side of your neck and leaning forward to kiss you. This kiss wasn’t like your sweet, goodnight kiss outside, there was a subtext to it. You quickly opened your lips, letting your tongues meet. He pulled you closer so your chests were pressed together. You skin felt too hot, you were sweating even as a breeze blew in through the open window next to you.

You parted, quickly pulling your blouse over your head in hopes you’ll cool off. You saw Joost’s eyes widen, looking down at your body. His mouth was immediately back on yours, wet and messy as your hand returned to his knee before slowly inching further and further up his thigh. You pressed your fingertips into his flesh, getting a low moan from him.

He began to press kisses down your neck, settling just below your collarbone. You felt his teeth over the soft skin, and the pressure of him sucking. No doubt there’d be a bruise there later.

“Joost,” you slowly whispered.

“Hmm?” He replied, placing more wet kisses over your chest.

You had to think before you spoke, you could barely string a sentence together with how bothered his wandering hands were making you. “C-can you…”

“Tell me, baby.”

“I want you to eat me out.” You pulled his face off your chest to look you in the eyes. “Please.”

He smirked, pressing your shoulders back until you were laying on the sofa. He quickly peeled your jeans off your hips and down your legs, discarding them on the floor before leaning down to place a gentle kiss at your belly button, then a little lower, and a little lower again. 

Once he finally mouthed over your clothed pussy, you were so lightheaded you could barely think straight.

He slowly pulled your panties down your legs, seeing just how much you were dripping. He couldn’t hide the smile plastered across his face at the thought of you so hot and bothered by him.

“You’re so sexy,” he whispered, lowering his face to your pussy and placing a light kiss to your clit.

You were so sensitive, you instantly cowered away from his touch. But he grabbed your hips to hold you in place. It felt like the room went cold, with goosebumps raising all over your skin.

You noticed that Joost was watching you, just for a second, though he just looked back to your core once he realised you’d caught him staring. He dove in.

You would’ve thought he hadn’t had dinner with how…passionate he was. He wasn’t letting up, listening to every direction you gave him; ‘lower’ or ‘more fingers’, and a ‘don’t stop’.

Before you knew it, you felt weightless as he drew you into orgasm. It wasn’t like when you did it yourself, you finally understood all those cheesy romance novels talking about seeing stars, because you had a whole galaxy in your eyes.

It took you a few minutes to come down from the high. Joost helped you through it, bringing you back down to Earth with gentle rubs over your hips and a ‘good girl’ thrown in for good measure.

Once you finally caught your breath, you spoke. “I don’t do this all the time, by the way.”

“Do what?” His eyebrows furrowed.

“This.” You gestured to, well, your still-naked body on your couch. You would’ve been feeling self conscious if you didn’t just have one of the best orgasms of your life. “I don’t want you to think I’m a slut or anything.”

He laughed. “Leifje, if you’re a slut, I am too.”

His laugh brightened the room, it eased you. 

“Well, we haven’t gotten to you yet, have we?”

xxx

[jadeddangel]

I saw that u write poly stuff and my mind was inspired, maybe u could write something where adam and lute comfort reader because something happened and even a bit suggestive if u want:))

EEEE IM SO HAPPY I INSPIRED YOU!!

Lute x reader x Adam

"It's gonna be ok, beautiful"

Warnings: None

Art isn't mine and belongs to @.D4gm4rs on twt

The bed was cold even though it seemed like Adam and lute had left hours ago ,although it had only been 30 minutes. It was your day off.. you had finally gotten a break from everything. You were tired of souls coming to you for help for all these things that you couldn't possibly help with. The worst part of all, though was there was this angel that wouldn't leave you alone, he had been pretty much stalking you. He was trying to get you to go on dates to try and get you to hang out with him.

You were hesitant to tell Adam and lute scared Adam would over react and that lute wouldn't leave your side; you can imagine how surprised you were when they just gave you some love and left for work. And so here you were, alone, still laying in bed, you just wanted to sleep and stay here forever..

You must've fallen asleep cause when you woke up it was almost dark. With a sigh, you got up, tugging out of the bedroom and going to the kitchen to get dinner ready. You paused seeing that there was already a bag of food on the counter.. it was your favorite, and it even had your favorite drink.. you heard the tv running in the living room. You smiled and walked to the living room seeing 2 familiar tuffs of brown and white grey hair. You reached over and covered Adam's eyes from behind him. "Guess who?" You snickered a bit. Adam hummed a bit. "Is itttt my pretty girl?" Adam guessed, tilting his head up towards the ceiling so you could see his smile. You giggled and leaned down, giving him a kiss. "mhm.." You hummed against his hips. You pulled away brushing his hair back out of his face, you tilted your head to face lute, "there's my pretty girl" you mused leaning closer to her and giving her an Eskimo kiss before kissing her forehead. Lute smiled a bit. "Hi there, baby.. how was your day?" She asked sweetly. You climbed over the back of the couch to plop in between them. "It was as good as it could get with me sleeping all day" you laughed a bit. Lute played with your hair absent-mindedly while Adam tugged at the baggy pajama pants you were wearing. "You know I really like this color on you but maybe we should just take it off hm?" Adam hummed slowly slithering his hands up your thighs til he was holding onto the waist band of the pants. "Adam I will literally never make you ribs again if you take those off" you said curtly opening your eyes a bit to give him a glare. Adam huffed and pulled his hands away, crossing his arms over his chest and pouting like a toddler. You sighed a bit but decided not to deal with it, "Adam will you get the bag of food? Please? I'll give you head in the morning I promise" you bribed knowing he was going to fight you if you didn't offer. Before you could even finish the word head Adam was already up and grabbing the bag excitedly, "deal!", Adam even went the extra fucking mile and started making your plate for you while watching the movie that was barely getting any attention.

The night was relaxing, you and lute took a bath together cause Adam couldn't be trusted not to start something. Then it was onto dessert, another movie and cuddles. As promised in the morning before work you gave Adam head before he left. And you know what maybe it was good luck cause that day wasn't half bad.

You didnt know what happened(Adam and lute beat the shit out of the guy and talked to your boss about easing up on you) but that didn't matter and as long as everything kept going well it was always gonna be a good day.

[simpingland]

The little lights// Osferth x fem!reader.

Summary: Osferth has many reasons to keep his love for you a secret. But there is a limit to everything, and if can't marry you, then he will make his bows during a secret handfasting ceremony by the river.

A/N: fluff and so much fluff!!!! Osferth does inappropriate things here but not specified.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Osferth found it hard to keep secrets, but since it was you, he always did his best, knowing that the consequence of not doing so would drive you apart. However, you always took care to give him a reprimanding look when he got too close or whispered things in your ear.

It had all started when Uthred and his party had let you get involved in their adventures when you were orphaned, you knew how to ride a horse and you were a quick learner. So taken in by father Beocca and Thyra, you soon became something of a niece to the Danish-English leader. To the rest you did not think you were too important. True, Sihtric and Finan were fond of you, as if you were fond of a friend, and Hild also helped you in the few things Thyra could not understand. But from the beginning, with Osferth everything was different.

The instant you rode beside him, his eyes stayed with you as much as the afternoon went on. And though it was Uthred who gave you water and bread to fill that empty stomach, it was Osferth who had accompanied you in prayer to watch over your parents. He knelt beside you, and his concentration inspired yours for hours. You had never been a devout Christian, and Osferth assured you that none of that mattered if you were good at heart. Even he didn't know at first if that would be the case for you, but he soon discovered that it did. It was when you tended his wound after the battle of Beamfleot that you watched over him day and night.

"Aren't you going to sleep at some point?" he would ask you when he regained consciousness.

"When you wake up. I have to watch to see if you suddenly stop breathing."

"And what would you do if that were the case?"

"Punch you so hard I'd make your light soul go back to where it was."

That managed to make him laugh, causing him some pain too, but after that the baby monk regained his colour.

"Everyone here wants to hit me..." he was referring to Finan and his threat to kill him if he died, and though he said it with a smile on his face, you felt a little sorry for him.

"I guess... I guess we're not all as sweet as you. You're always clear about how you feel, and you know how to say it."

"I disagree. My mind is constantly collapsed with thoughts and my heart is in knots."

"Because of faith?"

He nodded slowly. It took you quite a bit of courage to take his hand and stroke it. The coldness he conveyed was short-lived as he squeezed your hand back.

"I have seen true evil, Osferth. And I do not fear it, but I do hate it. And in you I see the opposite of hate. You are...all love."

You needed only the nearby rustle of leaves to let go, hands away again, and you lost yourself as Osferth's heart filled at your words. If this was a test, God knew he would not pass it. The days following his recovery were meals together, walking on your arm, letting him smell your hair, which you washed in the river. And he imagined you bathing with soap made by Thyra. And thanks to the soap it all really began.

He asked you, blushing, if you could wash his hair. His arm was sore and he felt dirty. The others he didn't trust, for they liked to laugh at his monk-cut, and threatened a few times to cut it off for fun. And you took him to the river where you bathed. Holding your hand, he followed your footsteps, without that oppressive sound of metal, for the weapons were outside, that place was pure comfort.

"Lie on my lap" you asked him. And his doubtful face made you question if that was a good idea. "Oh if you prefer, put your head down..."

He sat down next to you, but changed his mind. With the subtlety of a fawn, his head rested in your lap, and he watched you for a moment before closing his eyes and letting the water run over his head. Tenderly, the foam formed on his head and you rinsed him with a small glass. Your hands almost made him fall into a deep sleep right there. But when you wiped a wet bandage over his face he opened his eyes again. Concentrating on removing the stains, you tried to avoid the blue eyes staring at your lips. A moment of weakness and you looked back at him.

Who it was, it doesn't matter, but your noses brushed and your lips followed. There in the river, with the waterfalls dreaming and the frogs croaking, the soap disappeared in the water, but the butterflies in your stomach flew looking to burst into the air. That's what an Osferth kiss felt like. Immense, fresh, pure. From then on, the soap did not smell the same, it smelled like that sweet moment, repeated in a thousand different ways every time you and him were even the slightest bit alone.

You never noticed the looks the others gave you every time you laughed at everything Osferth dared to whisper in your ear. He tugged at your sleeves to hold your hand in the moments when your nerves ate at you, and you wrapped your arms around his shoulders when they marched far away and you were not allowed to accompany them, and by letting him take you by the waist, Osferth needed a whole world to let you go. Only Thyra would remove the tears that fell from your eyes at night when you did not hear from him. He always came back, and you saw his smile grow wider each time he was made proud among men, when he could bring you a small relic wrapped in simple cloth. His hanging cross was the only thing he kept when you went to the river. And there he would tell you everything he had seen, and everything he had suffered. He enjoyed washing your hair too, and he kept a lock of hair that he asked you for his travels. He cried on your shoulder more than once, and though he tried not to kiss you beyond your face, he soon reached your neck, and you could feel his hands wandering through the seams of your clothes, through the knots he imagined himself removing at night.

"I don't understand, Lord, why if I've been faithful to you so long you put me to this test. Put anything else in the way, I will overcome it, but it is only she who now occupies my mind..." Osferth prayed in his sleepless moments. "I ask you not to use her to break my heart. I feel that all her pain will be mine too."

The prayer could not avail him much, or perhaps it was precisely heard, when one night, one of those merry ones where the ale is quickly drained from the cups, Osferth and you led a secret dance, and where you went, he went. The music was secondary and a mere excuse to touch Osferth's hands so that he could cling to you. And the heat of happiness set your cheeks on fire and you stepped out into the cool of the night. In the courtyard of your house, near the tavern and where no one was yet around, you and Osferth lay looking up at the sky.

"You are a surprisingly good dancer, dear Osferth," you teased.

"That's not much credit coming from such a lousy dancer as you, my lady..."

Surprised by his comment, you gave him a gentle nudge and pushed him to the floor.

"I never expected such treachery from you.... This is not the monk I adore."

He turned you around, leaving you wrapped in the straw, and tickling you somewhat with his gentle grip. The cross hung down and brushed your neck. In the gloom, his face was still as distinguishable as in your dreams.

"I may never have told you..." he sounded sweet and serious, and his hand caressed the bridge of your nose. "But when you were in my care, I thought...I thought I was on the verge of death, and all I could feel with pain and fear was your presence beside me. I thought the Lord was preparing me to go in peace...sending me an angel."

Crickets chirped as you felt the excitement fill your eyes. You smiled like a fool at the sweet thought, and found it hard to believe. You could feel his slight embarrassment and you kissed his cheeks and could not help but giggle with pure joy. What to say to that? That you loved him? That it was the most beautiful thing anyone had ever said to you? He was the man of words. You only wanted one thing. And that night you got it. Starting with a kiss, the moon saw you finally shed your clothes and he let you explore his flesh. And out of that night came the biggest scare of your life and your greatest blessing in turn.

The news of the pregnancy nearly stopped Osferth's heart while it kept you in a state of disbelief that made you awkward all week. You needed to go cry in the river to come to terms with what was to come. You would never let go of that baby if you were healthy and had the money to raise it. But everything felt rushed and Uthred would not look kindly on this strange union between people he considered family and people he considered a team. Besides, Osferth would soon be off on a dangerous new adventure, and he himself had moral doubts about the whole life. What was clear to him was that he would not abandon you. There must be some middle step to bring you together and make that baby more than a bastard, for he had certainly sprung from the purest love.

"Marry me, please," he said as he brushed your hair away from your face, trying to wipe away your tears as well."

"No, Osferth...not like this."

"Why not?"

"For many reasons...Uthred will get angry with us, and if you depart married then you can die peacefully and I want you to stress yourself so much that you force yourself to survive long enough to come begging me to marry you..." that made me laugh, though you were quite serious.

"Then let's get married in secret."

"No!"

"Why?" he was beginning to stress. You took a moment to find the words.

"Because I've already hidden for too long how much I love you and this is the only thing I have left to give you! I want Beocca to walk me down the altar and I want Thyra to make me a wreath. I want everyone to see me happy because of you. I don't want there to be any doubt in your mind that I'll be happy because of you. Let there be no doubt in your mind that...as much as you're crazy about me...I'm pretty much in love with you too."

Smiling and thinking, Osferth enjoyed your little jokes that served to tell him the things that really mattered to you. And yes, he agreed, he wished to see Finan and Sihtric drink in honour of your union, and receive the full blessing of the man who had brought you together in the first place, Uthred. He needed everyone to see how beautiful you were and how happy you made him without contingency. He took your hand and caressed it, looking at it with a throbbing thought.

"There is a ceremony...less than a marriage, but it will soothe my conscience, and I hope yours."

In the sunset, on that river where you first kissed, a kind-hearted priest agreed to offer ceremony. Witness Hild, the first to have noticed your pregnancy symptoms and who did not question your actions. You bought a yellowish ribbon, like Osferth's hair, and with thread of a blue that reminded you of his eyes, you wove him a cross that stretched to resemble a sword. He, on the other hand, chose a greenish cloth, like that of the plants that grew in the river, and with white thread he had depicted outstretched wings, like those of an angel. When you exchanged them, Osferth kissed the cross while you caressed the weft of the thread, both of you with your souls full. Then the vows began.

In the handfasting ceremony, one did not join his soul to the other, but promised before the loved one that they intended to remain by eachother side in an uncertain future. Perhaps your child would be born a bastard, but the ceremony, in the eyes of god, and in your own eyes, was a promise of good intentions and love.

"I promise to become a man worthy of you and our family. I promise to try with every breath I have left to return to your side. I promise never to leave you uncertain of how much I want to live with you. I promise to cherish the protection I know you give me."

You were somewhat lost in the trance, and it took the priest to mention your name to get your attention. Osferth's cheek, occupied by his smile, was too pretty to look away.

"I promise...to wait for you calmly, to receive you with the gentleness you deserve. I promise to take care of everything we harvest, and I promise to always, always tell you the truth. I promise to help you whenever you ask. I promise to let you know how much I want to see you every moment of every day."

The priest speech was not that important for the last part in your humble opinion. There were many other things to look at and to listen to. And Osferth's gentle caress on your hand made noise. And your little discomfiture of joy that made you sway in your place was to Baby Monk a lovely dance. Though the kiss was not part of the ceremony, when the man fell silent, your arms leapt to his shoulders and Osferth. With bonds forgotten, you tugged at his hand and both of you hurt each other through inertia.

"Forgive me," he said tenderly.

"Forgiven."

With his loosened hand he was able to grasp your cheek and deposit at last the kiss you had spent the night dreaming of. Hild clapped her hands and withdrew soon after you thanked her for her discretion. And then you didn't quite know where to begin your life with Osferth, though really, it hadn't quite begun. Strolling along the river as the day wore on, leaving others to wonder about your whereabouts, neither you nor Osferth cared about anything beyond what happened on that river.

Your good soon-to-be husband held out a hand for you to walk through the water, and when he saw the beautiful fabric of the skirt you were trying to protect, he picked it up before it got wet. And he followed you carefully as you told him how much you would miss him.

"I will pray day and night for you to come home and meet our child," you told him sorrowfully.

"Don't pray for me, pray that they bring the baby to us healthy and strong...I will pray for that, and for you. And I will ask him, if it is not too much, to let me see both of you in my dreams."

You turned to cling to his rib, and he nuzzled the back of your head as you absorbed his scent.

"Oh, Osferth, please tell me you will never hold a grudge against me for derailing you from your calling as a monk? I can't help but feel guilty."

That revelation hurt him a little, empathising with the woman he loved most in this world and the one who would make him the happiest man in a few months. He lifted your face, stopping the walk, and kissed your eyelids.

"You didn't derail me, you led me. This is the life with which I have been rewarded for so many years of dedication. To be with you is not to forsake God. In fact, I can be nothing but grateful to him. If he sees everything, he will be unable to lose sight of all that I am moved by you."

You had to keep walking to hide the silly redness that filled your face, and Osferth's hand on your belly made you slow your pace. And though you were afraid of a thousand things, that feeling was indescribable. The purest state of happiness.

"I think it's going to be a girl," he said, stroking the fabric against your belly.

"I think it's going to be a boy," you contradicted him mischievously.

"They say that boys make pregnant women beautiful. And I see you looking the same as ever."

You gave him a shove as he laughed, but he didn't see the branch behind him and ended up falling awkwardly as he laughed almost completely. Now you were laughing as Osferth tried not to perjure himself from the cold.

"That's what you get for being an idiot..." you continued your walk, your dress starting to get soaked. Something in her look and half-smile made you suspect a thousand things. "Osferth no..." He stood up slowly. He approached you soaking wet and dripping. "I can't swim and you know it."

"Can't a man give his wife a hug?"

"Give it to your wife when you marry her."

"I can't resist, my lady!"

He pounced, instantly drenching you with his big body and wet clothes. And coldness mingled with laughter as you tried to escape him.

"Osferth! You're going to drop me, and I'm going to get soaked and catch a cold!"

You said it in jest, but something clicked in the Baby monk's head and he let go of you. He then ran to get the cloaks you had brought with you and helped you out of the river. He put yours and his own your shoulder. He helped you dry off and turned a deaf ear to your suggestion that he should dry off too. You gave him a kiss on those lips, and he seemed to calm down instantly.

The sun had already set by the time you returned to the house where your friends awaited you, your feet marking distance, but your eyes following each other's like a light. And perhaps, you were just that, lights on the other side of the room, endlessly tinkling, guiding and simply beautiful.

~~~~~~~~~~

Tag list: @slytherincursebreaker

[ranhaitanisgf]

Can I have a scenario with Chifuyu with “dancing in the rain” and they are “childhood friends to lovers” Chifuyu gets the idea to dance in the rain from his manga and he wants to recreate it with fem!reader. She usually always goes along with his ideas. Fluff please. Right now it is raining where I live and it gave me this inspiration. Thank you.

— chifuyu matsuno // childhood friends to lover // dancing in the rain

[𖤐]  hallo i went 200 words over the limit again cause i have no restraint. once again. im so sry for taking so long but i hope you enjoy anon!! have an amazing day/ evening my loveliesss xoxo !

wc ; 1,2k+

masterlist || 2k masterlist

“please?” 

“i dunno…it’s coming down pretty hard right now, chifuyu.” 

“i promise it’ll be worth it!” you stared at the rain behind the boy in front of you, seeing how the downpour was making the gutters in the street start to overflow. your mistake was to look back at chifuyu, who was giving you a look that was akin to a dog begging its owner for food. his hair was already dripping from his walk over to your house, and there was a puddle at his feet from his wet clothing. 

“...let me go grab my jacket.” as you turned away, you could hear chifuyu’s small ‘yes!’, making you giggle a bit as you slipped on a jacket. you weren’t sure how much effect it would have against such an amount of rain, but you supposed it was better than nothing. 

when you got back to the doorway, you laughed a bit when you realized that chifuyu was already out in the middle of the street waiting for you, the rain once again soaking him head to toe. you hesitated a bit before joining him in the rain, feeling the temperature of the rain before you stepped out from the shelter of your porch. 

immediately, the cold rain washed over you, drenching you in record time. you hadn’t expected anything less, taking a moment to shiver before you started walking over to chifuyu, doing your best to push wet strands of hair out of your face. 

when you arrived in front of chifuyu, he had a bit of a nervous look on his face, his cheeks dusted with pink as he looked away from you. your brows pinched together in worry, stepping a little bit closer as you slipped your hand under his bangs, feeling his forehead. 

“did you get sick from walking over here?” you questioned, raising a brow as chifuyu avoided your gaze even further. 

“w-what? no, i’m fine!” 

“uhuh.” 

“seriously, i’m fine!” 

“riiight…” you rolled your eyes at him, shaking your head. “you should’ve known better than to walk a mile in the rain like this! it isn’t even warm rain; it’s freezing! i’ve only been out here for a minute and i’m already cold! really, i ought to just-” your words were suddenly cut off; chifuyu had stepped forward, wrapping his arms around you and burying his face in your shoulder. you froze, unsure of what to do or say next. 

“sorry…” 

“er, what for?” 

“you always agree to do stuff with me, even if you might get sick…” 

“it’s fine chifuyu, i really don’t mind. you just haven’t told me what we are doing in the rain yet…” you murmured, hesitantly wrapping your arms around him. the sudden contact wasn’t something that you hated, but it had caught you wholly off guard, causing your face to heat up quite a bit. you were beyond glad that he couldn’t see you at the moment. 

there had often been moments like this, where the line between friendship and…something more, seemed to be a bit more blurred than it should’ve been. neither of you had ever discussed these moments, so you always just reverted back to your typical friendship, going on as if nothing ever happened. you wished you could just come out and talk about your feelings, but you were way more scared of rejection and ruining your friendship that you never did. 

“it’s something from this manga i read…” chifuyu mumbled. his mouth was so close to your ear, you could feel his breath fanning over the side of your face, making butterflies fly around in your stomach. “...dancing in the rain and stuff, and it looked fun.” 

as soon as he said it, the idea of the two of you dancing in the rain popped into your head, making your heart skip a beat. was that what he brought you out here to do? that seems like an awfully romantic thing to do…

nonetheless though, you pulled together all the little bits of courage you had and pulled away from him a bit, flashing him a smile. 

“let’s do it!” chifuyu’s guilty face immediately lightened up at your words, his eyes becoming so bright they damn near glittered.  

“really?!” 

“yeah!” you moved one of your hands up to rest on his shoulder, the other hand grabbing his and taking it out a little bit. “i’m assuming you don’t know how to waltz, so just follow me, alright? oh, and…” you took your hands back for a second, moving chifuyu’s hands to your waist. “...that’s better. this is the traditional waltz, which is also the only kind of dance that i know how to do.” you put your hands back in the correct positions, giggling a bit at chifuyu’s confused face. 

“so, which way do we move?” 

“it’s a four step sequence, and you just move around in a box shape. like this…” you took a step back, gently bringing chifuyu along with you. then you took a step to the side, watching as the gears turned in his head. “...and now you take a step back and to the side.” chifuyu did just that, completing the square. 

“ohh, okay, i think i got it now.” 

“are you ready, then?” 

“i think so.” 

and so, you two began to dance. 

despite the fact that the two of you were in the middle of the street, you weren’t really counting on any cars coming through due to the weather, so you just kept all your focus on dancing. 

you had to admit; your heart was going a million miles an hour, and you were glad that the wetness of the rain disguised how sweaty your hand was in his. nonetheless, you kept going with the steps, keeping more focus on going in a square rather than how handsome chifuyu looked with his wet hair pushed to the side. 

the sudden crack of thunder made the both of you stop, the loud sound catching the both of you off guard. the boy in front of you laughed a bit at both of your reactions, his laughter infectious as you began laughing as well. 

“i guess that’s our cue to go inside before we both get sick.” chifuyu said, stepping a bit away from you. his hand didn’t leave yours though, instead giving it a squeeze as he started to walk over to your house. “i’ll just call home and say that i’m staying at your house until the storm lets up a bit.” 

“oh, alright, that’s fine.” you responded, feeling a bit lost in your thoughts as you cherished the warmth of his hand in yours. when the two of you reached your door, you knew that you were going to have to let go of his hand, but you really didn’t want to. 

“i saw this other thing in the manga; can i try it?” chifuyu suddenly asked. when you looked over, you noticed the tips of his ears were a bright red, but nonetheless, he still kept his gaze locked onto you. 

“oh, sure, what is…it…” your words faltered as he lifted your hand up a bit, leaning down to brush his soft lips against your knuckles, his eyes never leaving yours. 

he stayed there for a few moments before he let go of your hand and straightened up, his cheeks red now. 

“s-sorry! i just wanted to try it…!” he tried to explain, probably taking your shocked expression as a way of telling him that you didn’t like it. 

“dummy…let’s just go inside.” you murmured, grabbing his hand in yours as you pulled him inside. 

maybe today is the day that the friendship line gets completely blurred over.

[ayyy-imma-ninja]

this is a theory, and an inspiration from an audio i heard (i dont remember where tho) that gave me ideas for how fairy eclipse life was before the imprisonment.

{It reveals that young individuals who were treated poorly by their caretakers will often, rather oddly, blame themselves instead of their caretakers for their injuries (like emotional, psychological, even physical if it got to that point). They hate who they are rather than directing their hate towards those who have wronged them. Young individuals immediately notice when they are not loved as much as they might need to be. They understand nothing of the reason for this hardened attitude, but they feel all the pain. Yet, they need to locate some kind of explanation nevertheless. So, they quickly and intuitively settle on one that almost always feels most compelling to them—that they have done something wrong. "why is moony so agitated?" Because they have done something wrong. "why does moony always yell at me when I didn't even do anything wrong?" Because they have done something wrong. "why did moony push me away when I wanted to hug them when I was crying?" (most likely when eclipse was like really new to the world) Because they have done something wrong. "Am I the reason why you guys argue? am I the reason why moon is mad?" (probably eclipse asked sun and they probably said yes) Because they have done something wrong. "why is sunny being so cold?" Because they have done something wrong. "Why aren't they being treated kindly?" Because they have done something wrong. "Why is lunar being preferred to them?"(if they met lunar and saw how they are being treat now, and before the twins started to treat lunar better) Because they have done something wrong.}

this is how i imagine eclipse felt when he was new to the world and living with the twins but i still think he still thinks like that, poor thing.

(sorry if that's a bit much- there is a little bit more. ok not a little there is a lot more =_=; but i hope you like it! :D )

"Young" minds are certainly shaped by those around them :)

[obsessedwithpedritoofc]

Mʏ Oɴʟʏ Rᴇᴀsᴏɴ (Fʀᴀɴᴋɪᴇ Mᴏʀᴀʟᴇs)

ℙ𝕒𝕚𝕣𝕚𝕟𝕘: Frankie Morales × Transmasc Reader.

𝕎𝕠𝕣𝕕 𝕔𝕠𝕦𝕟𝕥: 7,3 k.

𝕊𝕦𝕞𝕞𝕒𝕣𝕪: Both sent to the same prison, with different reasons and different problems to deal with. At least most of them, until one brought them together.

𝕎𝕒𝕣𝕟𝕚𝕟𝕘𝕤: au, angst, violence, mentions of blood, shots being fired, mentions of death, mentions of killing, allusion to drugs, mentions of anger problems, mentions of scars, fluff, not wanting to have sex, frankies a sweetheart ofc, similarities with the series "time", actual physical descriptions of reader (but not detailed), no use of Y/N (reader is referred to as Lost). (lmk if i missed any).

𝔸/ℕ: hellooo as i suppose you already know, i LOVED writing this shit. frankie is my favorite pedro character and will always be and whenever i write something for him i get really excited. anyway so, this is based on the series "time", which is why it has some similarities to it but i mainly got inspiration from my own imagination :D whatever, im starting to bore myself lol. enjoy <3

𝕡𝕥 𝕚 𝕞𝕪 𝕠𝕟𝕝𝕪 𝕣𝕖𝕒𝕤𝕠𝕟

𝕡𝕥 𝕚𝕚 𝕔𝕠𝕞𝕗𝕠𝕣𝕥

𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

That was it. You almost had it. You just had to pull the trigger...

"Come on, get up!", there was a firm, insistent knock at the door of your cell. You looked at the ceiling, sighed and reluctantly got up.

Of all the bad days you had —and you had many bad days—, that was the worst day you could have been transferred. Your legs were stiff, your knuckles were broken and bloodied, and the scar in your stomach was making your insides hurt more than usual, though maybe that was because of the hunger. But well, it's not like you could even choose when to be transferred or where. That fight hadn't been your fault.

"Move, asshole", you looked up at him. He grabbed the chicken sandwich from your tray.

"Aren't you a bit too small to be a boy?", he laughed. Some of the ones behind him did, too.

"Give me my fucking sandwich back and move out of the way", you tried to stand your ground, not look weak, give them a warning.

"Oh, lookit that! Little girl's gotten all mad—".

You didn't give him the chance to finish the sentence before you smashed your tray right on his face, making him fall to the floor with a heavy thud. You got on his lap and started hitting your fist on his nose, his mouth, his eyes, everything you could hit. Until the alarm went off and you were surrounded and grabbed by a bunch of guards that took you to an isolation cell.

Next day, you were being transferred to a prison thousands of kilometers away from him. You didn't even know where they were going to take you. But you didn't care either. At this point, you didn't really care about anything.

When you arrived to your new home it was snowing and you were freezing. As you were approaching, the driver gave you a brief explanation of how weather and life were like in that prison. You didn't see yourself living in a place where it was always cold and raining —or snowing, that day specifically—, let alone for more than twenty years and between all those freaks.

Your time in that last prison had been cut short barely a month after you got in. You rejected every chance you were given to call your family or whoever close to you, and you didn't receive a single visit. Not like you had anyone close to you either. The only one that had once been was now gone.

You spent your first day in prison like it had been your forever home. The next day, though, everyone knew who you were and started looking at you as if you were their next prey. Or more as if they knew why you were there. Luckily for you, no one approached more than necessary. And luckily for you, you didn't really have to approach anyone at all, since you didn't even have a cellmate.

A week in, though, a group of inmates paid you a visit while you were reading in your cell. One of them looked outside to make sure there was no one dangerously nearby, then closed the door. The man at the front stood still, looking at you and scanning the room. Then, he sat next to you on the bed. You immediately sat up by instinct and scanned them all as well. There was three of them —four counting the on sitting next to you. You really didn't have much of a chance if you wanted to suddenly run away, but you could knock out their boss and one of them if you were fast enough.

"I know who you are", said the one on your side.

"Before you continue, you should know the last person who told me I was small didn't end very well", you spoke fast, looking at him in the eyes with an expressionless demeanor, showing you weren't weak and that you were going to stand your ground.

"Oh, I know that, too", he smiled. "That's why you were transferred here, right?".

You sighed. The situation was starting to be a bit too cliché and boring for your liking.

"What do you want?", you didn't take your eyes off of his.

"Nothing", he raised his eyebrows. "Yet".

Of course, you thought, resisting the urge to roll your eyes.

"So?", you crossed your arms. The man beside you stayed silent for a while.

"Do people around here know what you really are?".

Your demeanor immediately changed, shifting from an expressionless one to a scared one. You knew what he was talking about. 

But how the hell did he know?

"Who the fuck are you?", you found yourself suddenly lacking of oxygen. He just smiled.

"I'll come to you when I need a favor", he got up and walked to the door, then knocked. The man behind it opened it. "In the meantime, try not to get in much trouble".

And just like he had walked in, he also walked out. You gasped for air the very second you were left alone. 

Great, one week in that prison and you had somehow already fucked up. 

"Hey", another man was standing by the door now. He wasn't one of the other guy's men. "You good?", he looked around the room as if he was searching for something.

"Uh... Yeah", you frowned. "Why?".

"Those assholes are always up to somethin', wouldn't be a surprise if they were tryna get you in", he put his hands in his pockets and leaned his side on the doorframe.

"Do you want something?", you sounded a bit annoyed.

"No. I, uh, was jus' checkin' you weren't hurt".

"Well, I'm not. Thanks", you forced a brief smile. "You can leave now".

"Right", he pulled away from the door. "Sorry for botherin' ya".

When he was out of sight, you breathed again.

You took some time to think. Maybe if you did what the guy had told you to, you'd be out of trouble. By the moment, the best for you was to stay out of trouble. He had said not to, perhaps so that cops around wouldn't keep much of an eye on you in case he was going to ask you for a favor —you'd be out of suspicion.

You sighed. You knew you were fucked. But maybe you could keep yourself from making it worse.

"Why?", you held up the gun. "Why did you do it?", tears were streaming down your face.

"I had no choice".

"Why did you do this to me?!", you took a step back.

"I didn't know I'd get y—".

"Get the fuck away from me!!!".

And then you shot.

You sat at the back of the dining room. You were lucky to go down early so you could avoid the masses of inmates that fought over the last piece of bread. Unfortunately, the assholes were something you couldn't avoid. Especially the ones that came to you that morning.

"Well, hello", he sat beside you once again, followed by his men.

"What?", your tone was stern, though your face gave away your concern of what he might say. He didn't say anything at first and grabbed the bread from your tray. "That's mine", you spat.

"Not anymore", he looked into you eyes with as much sternness as your tone was holding at first. "I need you to do something for me", he smiled.

Shit, was your only thought.

"What?".

"But I need to know I can trust you before I give you a task".

"No. You tell me what you want me to do and I'll decide if I do it—".

"I think you don't understand how this works", he moved closer. "I tell you to do something, and you just do it. You don't do it, I tell everyone about you. You fuck it up, I tell everyone about you. You tell the cops, I tell everyone about you", he stared into your eyes. "Are we clear?".

You didn't say anything. You didn't want to make him think you were one to submit easily, but you didn't have any other choice either. Luckily for you, he wasn't looking to humiliate you and just let it be.

"A friend of mine's gonna leave some stuff by your cell one of these days", he pulled slightly away. "I need you to hide it and save it until I come get it".

You put on your usual expressionless demeanor.

"Okay", was your answer. He smiled.

"That's more like it", he patted your shoulder and got up. "Good thing we're on the same page".

And like that, he just walked away again.

You looked around, searching for anyone that might have seen you. Everyone else seemed to be minding their own business, except for the man that had gone check on you the first time that group of inmates had gone talk to you. He was staring at you with a knowing look from a couple tables away. You saw him well this time: he was wearing a cap and his moustache barely hid half of his upper lip. He got up with his tray before you could scan him any longer, then walked up to you and sat by your table.

"What did he say this time?", he asked.

"Hello to you, too", you rolled your eyes and went back to eating. "Why do you care so much anyway?".

"Because the last people I saw him approach to didn't end well".

"Well, define not well", you said with your mouth full.

"Beaten up by cops. By himself. Ended in the hospital", he paused to think. "Dead".

You stopped chewing for a moment, then continued.

"And why me?", you swallowed. "There's a lot of people in here, at least one of them all's gotta be in some shit with those guys".

" 'Course they do, but most of 'em want the reward he gives 'em", he took a bite of his own food. "You didn't seem to".

"Yeah, well, I guess he ran outta rewards because he didn't offer me one", you raised your eyebrows while looking down at your plate, having another bite.

"Then why did you accept to do his dirty work?".

"I didn't ac—".

"I saw him gettin' outta here with your bread n' all smiley, you must've said somethin' he liked".

You stopped eating and slammed your hands on the table.

"Look, man. Whatever I do or not is none of your goddamn business, so I suggest you start minding your own shit unless you wanna end beaten up like the last person that fucked around with me", you stared into his eyes, your own set on fire. He threw his hands up.

"A'right", he grabbed his tray and got up. "Sorry for b—".

"Bothering me, yeah, sure, you can go", you shooed him. He knew better than to keep insisting, so he walked away.

You went back to your cell as soon as you were done eating. Damn, you did miss the bread. But to be honest, it wasn't really something you were concerned about. What really worried you at that moment was which kind of stuff was that bastard's friend going to make you hide and what would happen to you in case you were caught in a room inspection.

You hoped nothing too bad.

It was done. You had done it. It was over.

You stood there, looking at the body laying on the floor in a puddle of blood.

Then you heard police sirens.

"Drop your gun!", they broke the door open. They held their gun up. You held yours on the side of your head.

"Get back!", you screamed.

"Drop your gun and get on the floor!", they kept saying.

You saw no better way out of it. So you shot once again.

A knock on your door woke you up. You hit your forehead with the metal bars under the bunk bed when you jumped, startled. You cursed yourself and rubbed the hurt spot on your forehead before getting up.

No words were shared between you and the man at the other side of the door. He just lent you a small paper bag. You hesitantly grabbed it, then he walked away.

You went back inside. You sat on your bed, asking yourself if you should open the bag or not. To be honest, it wasn't really closed, so the others wouldn't really know if you had looked inside. It's not like he had said you couldn't look. Technically, you were doing nothing wrong—

"What did he give you?".

You hit your head again with the bars.

"Dude, what the fuck!", you rubbed the top of your head. You turned to look at the door, finding the same guy that had sat with you on the dining room more than a week ago. "Oh, it's you", you huffed. "Didn't I tell you to leave me the fuck alone?".

"I know", he walked inside. "But seriously, you need some help with that guy".

"Of course, I do", you smiled sarcastically. "Out of the two times he's talked to me, I haven't been beaten up, I'm not in the hospital and I'm not dead!", you threw your hands up. "I didn't even get in trouble with any cops because of him! Of course I need help with that guy!".

The man stayed silent as you gave him your most sarcastic smile. Then you shifted back to you usual expressionlessness.

"Why do you think I need help?", you shrugged angrily. "Is it because I'm not big and buffed like the dogs he carries around with him?".

"That's not wha—".

"You think I'm weak? Is that it?", you stood up to face him. "Well, lemme tell you something, old man. This is not my first prison, and I've been surviving on my own long enough as to be able to beat the shit out of everyone in this place if I wanted to", you stared into his eyes with your brow deeply frowned.

"I didn't mean that", he spoke slowly, definitely more calmed than you. His eyes flicked down for a moment before looking back into yours. "I jus' thought that, in case he wants to fuck you up real bad, you'd be better with someone by your side".

You cleared your throat and stepped back, looking up at him.

"Someone by my side, huh?", you resisted the urge to laugh. "Because I can't handle myself well enough?".

"I already told you I didn't mean—".

"I know", you chuckled this time. "I'm just fucking with ya", you sat back on the bed. "I understand that you feel alone in here and want a friend. And who better than the new inmate, right?", you gave him a knowing smirk. He couldn't help but smile back.

"Shit, you caught me", he sat beside you as well. "I feel so lonely in this prison", he chuckled. "I'm Francisco, by the way".

"Francisco? What kind of name is that?", you bursted into laughter. 

"Jus' call me Frankie, goddammit. No need to make a big fuss 'bout it", his mumbling made you laugh more.

"Yeah, Frankie's a definitely better name".

You spent a couple minutes like that, just laughing at the stupidity of it all. Truth be told, you hadn't laughed that hard in months. And you needed it.

"So", he said after a while. "What's in the bag?".

"I don't know", you looked down at the paper bag in your lap. "A guy just came and gave it to me".

"D'you wanna open it?", he looked at you with hooded eyes.

"I don't know", you took a deep breath. "I don't think I should, but they didn't tell me not to".

"Are you seriously gonna do what he says?".

"What else am I supposed to do? He's gonna fuck me up real bad if I don't", you let out a deep sigh. "I'll find a way out of it".

"What'd he threaten you with?".

Your blood ran cold at his question. You could tell how your face went pale, and your knees would have failed to keep you steady if you weren't seating.

"I'll take care of that", you said, looking at the ground. "I'll just do whatever he wants me to and stay outta trouble for as long as I can", you opened the paper bag, pulling a small disposable phone. "Huh", you put it back were it was. "What a little shit", you mumbled.

"It's a phone now, but what if it turns into somethin' else?", Frankie got up, still looking down at you. "You have to stand up to him—".

"I said I'll take care of that", you stood up to face him once again. "Whatever he does to me, it's my problem, not yours", you stared into his eyes. "I understand you're concerned, and I appreciate it, but you can't be behind my ass all day long. I'm not a kid, I can take care of myself".

Frankie stayed silent for a minute, processing your words. Then he cleared his throat and spoke again:

"Right", he nodded once. "I'm sorry, you're right".

"Right", you nodded, too. "Glad we're on the same page", you let out a heavy sigh. "Oof, sorry. I get pretty carried away when I'm angry".

"Yeah, I can see that", he chuckled. You laughed back.

"Welp", you took the paper bag with the phone and threw it into your pillowcase. "I better not use this thing before that asshole comes looking for it".

"Yeah, you better not".

You could tell he was uncomfortable now. He didn't now what else to say. You knew you usually did that to people who tended to assume you were as weak as your body showed. That was actually one of the reasons why you had learned to survive using violence most of the time, and probably the main cause of your anger problems. 

Before you could speak any apologies to him, you heard the walls and doors being hit outside, followed by cops shouting.

"Lights out! Everyone get to sleep!".

You looked at Frankie with a regretful expression. You felt bad for having caused him to be so taken aback and awkward.

"I better get goin'. Cops won't see me in my cell, might be suspicious", he said.

"Yeah", you nodded. "I'll... see you around".

"Sure", he walked out. "See ya".

Fuck, you cursed yourself.

Perfect. The first friend you made in prison ever and you screwed up your first non-violent chat. You could swear you had never felt so bad for taking your anger out on someone else.

Wait.

You had never felt bad for taking your anger out on someone else. That was actually what you were the best at.

Frankie was a good man. You somehow knew it. And you somehow knew he didn't deserve to suffer your anger problems as well. You had started off on the wrong foot, you also knew that well. Maybe the first thing you should do to try and fix it was apologizing. For treating him that bad the first times you talked, for taking your frustration out on him, for showing him the you no one like him should meet—

"Hey", a cop outside your door startled you. "Lights out and get on the goddamn bed".

"Yessir", you turned off the lights and laid on your bed as the cop closed your door and walked away.

You sighed, trying to close your eyes while thinking of what you would say to Frankie when you saw him next morning.

A beeping sound woke you up. You eyes opened in a sudden move and you looked around, confused, despaired.

Two cops were sitting beside your hospital bed, not seeming to have noticed you awake. 

Suddenly, everything came back and your memories hit you like a truck.

Your unsteady and heavy breathing alerted the cops. They both stood up and got on both sides of your bed. You tried to get up, a stinging pain in your stomach keeping you laid down. You lifted the hem of your shirt to see it covered by a large gauze, a little bloodied.

Your mind was dizzy as the cops told you about your current medical condition, and about the twenty-five years you were going to spend in prison for murder and trying to commit suicide afterwards.

At least you had gotten rid of your worst nightmare.

"Hey", you sat next to Frankie in the dining room. He smiled at you.

"Hey", he made room for you to sit more comfortably. "You get some sleep?".

"Yeah", you forced a smile. "Kinda", you cleared your throat. "I, uh... Sorry for how I acted yesterday. I didn't have the right to talk to you like that".

"It's fine. I'm like that sometimes, too", he shrugged it off. 

"No, I mean it. I shouldn't have—".

"Hey. It's okay, really", he stared into your eyes. "I understand you have... difficulties managin' your feelings, and it's alright", you saw the beginning of a smirk forming on his lips. "I've seen more o' those around here and they don't deal with it as well as you do".

His chuckle made you laugh back.

"Whatever, old man".

You spent the day talking to Frankie, walking around with him, getting to know him. Turns out you were right: he was a good man. And maybe he was a bit too sweet to be in a place like a prison, but he seemed to be doing well. You somehow knew he wouldn't have trouble if he suddenly got into a fight. 

The next few weeks went just like that. You stuck to Frankie, and Frankie stuck to you. You found in him the first person to be close to you in a long time. You found a friend in him. He didn't judge you, didn't treat you like the rest of people in you life had. It's not like he knew either, but you really didn't need him to know. There were already enough people in that prison that knew. 

Perhaps too many, you thought one of the times you thought about telling Frankie.

So you just accepted the fact that he would probably be your only friend in that prison, and maybe for the rest of your life. Maybe you didn't even have to tell him about—

"Well well well", a pair of hands fell on your shoulders as you picked up your freshly washed clothes. "Look who's alone today, huh?".

"The fuck do you want?", you turned around. There was that asshole again.

"You seem to be nice friends with that cap guy, huh?", he gave you a sarcastic smile. "What did you tell him 'bout us?", his expression shifted very quickly to one of pure anger.

"I didn't tell hi—".

"Bullshit!", he grabbed you by the neck of your shirt and pushed you against the wall. "What did you tell him? You asked for help, huh? Like the pretty little bi—".

You punched him right on the face before he even had the chance of finishing the sentence. He let you go and pulled away to recover, touching his now bloodied nose. The men behind him took a step forward, but he signaled them to stay back. And he just laughed.

"I. Told him. Nothing", you repeated. The guy in front of you sniffed and chuckled again.

"Wow", he stood up. "You have guts, gotta admit it", he fixed his nose. "Maybe I did cross a line there. I'm sorry", he shrugged. "Be careful, though. Next time, my dogs won't be as merciful", he looked back at them and nodded. Then he approached you. "You better not tell that fucker anything of our agreement. Wouldn't want the whole prison —including him— knowing what you really are, huh?".

You didn't say a word, but your silence was enough answer for him.

"Good", he cleaned the blood off his nose. "See ya around, little one".

Once again, he walked away.

Part of you felt relieved because you hadn't gotten yourself nor Frankie into trouble. Part of you still cursed yourself for being so fucked up.

That is how you survived your first year in that prison: doing favors to those pieces of shit and sticking to Frankie. You had learned a lot about him —what he used to do before ending up in prison, how he got there, the reason why he didn't get any visits...

You also told him all of that. What you used to do before ending up in prison, the reason why you didn't get any visits... You might have lied a bit when you told him how you got there, but he seemed not to notice —or at least not to mind that you did. Maybe he wanted to give you some space, and he understood that your situation was complicated. Whatever it was, you thanked him in your mind for not asking any more questions about it.

You became closer to him that you ever planned on. He talked to you every day, seemed to be the only one to care about you in that shitty place, made sure you were doing okay even with the assholes behind you. He even seemed not to want to let you go too far away from him, except when necessary. And even if you hated to admit it, being around him —or well, having him around you— made you feel safer than if you were by yourself. You and him both knew you weren't with him for protection —you could take care of that yourself. But he still made you feel protected, but not weak. And you didn't want to admit it, but you knew you had felt that before.

And it really, really scared you.

Of course, you kept having your disagreements with the group. Many disagreements. But you managed to keep it cool so that they would leave you and Frankie alone, which they surprisingly did. And you didn't get caught by the cops around either, which was also a surprise, but you wouldn't complain. Not when you had managed to keep you and Frankie out of trouble.

Yep, I've fallen so hard, you said to yourself one day. You were scared to admit it, but you weren't doing to lie to yourself about something you already knew.

"Well, hello", you turned around to see him standing behind you on the shower stall, scanning you up and down. You quickly wrapped your towel around your body and started getting dressed, trying to let him see as little as possible.

"What do you want?", you made sure to sound upset this time.

"You got what I was waiting for?", he sat at the bench outside the showers. You grabbed a small bag with herb from inside your pants and tossed it at him. He put it in his pocket. "Good".

He stood there, watching you, but he didn't say anything else. You frowned, trying to decrypt his expression. It wasn't the one he usually had. He seemed to be eyeing you with pity, but had at the same time he had a knowing look.

"Want anything else?", you crossed your arms and leaned on the lockers. He kept his pitiful, knowing look displayed on his eyes.

"Yeah", he looked down for a moment. "I wanted to talk to you about something. It's not about me this time, promise", he moved to the side of the bench and patted the spot next to him so you would sit. You reluctantly did. "You see...", he cleared his throat. "There's one of my dogs that... Well, actually a couple of 'em... that know about your... physical condition", he stared into his eyes.

Your heart started beating quickly, anger cursing through your veins.

"Some of them have been in here for a quite some time now, and... Well, they haven't had fun in a while, and since you're doing me some favors, I thought you wouldn't have trouble doing some to the—".

Your fist crashed against his face, this time harder than the last time you had punched him. Your other fist did, too. One, two, three, four times, you lost count.

"You think I'm some slut you can sell?! Huh?! That's what you like?! Fucking little boys like me?!", you spat on his face, hitting it again and again. "You fucking pervert, son of a bitch, piece of—!".

Now it was his fist what impacted on your face.

You fell to the floor with a heavy thud. He got on top of you, just like you had done with him, and started punching your face again and again and again.

Eventually, you lost conscience of your surroundings. Probably one of his blows hit you somewhere in the brain and left you dizzy. You could just feel more pain in your face and head, even though you couldn't even lift your arms or legs to try and defend yourself. The only thing you got to hear before you fell completely unconscious was how someone pulled him away from you and grabbed you to take you somewhere.

Frankie got there just in time before he punched all the teeth out of your mouth. He pulled him back and hit his head against one of the lockers, leaving him unconscious as well. Then he grabbed you and took you to the infirmary.

He was in his cell with his cellmate —who he usually didn't pay much attention to— when some guy came to tell them some shit about you. 

The truth about you.

Frankie didn't want to believe it at first. He couldn't. But the more he thought about it, more sense it made to him. Aside from your short frame and your beautiful little face —focus, Frankie, this ain't about that—, your explosive personality and your obsession over you being too weak or small kind of gave it away. It actually made sense. It was true.

He went that same day —after the night of your encounter with that fucker— to check on you to the infirmary. He wanted to know how were you doing, and he wanted to hear from you the truth of all the scene those guys were making over you. He was told you weren't conscious yet, but he stayed nonetheless —grabbed a chair and sat beside your bed.

He had been watching you ever since you got in that prison. And when the group got inside your cell that day, his suspicions about you were confirmed. You were exactly what they needed. Why would a little man like you make the cops think you were dangerous? Simple, you weren't. That's why they picked you out of everyone.

You were right thinking Frankie wanted to protect you from them. Not because you were small —he was sure you could defend yourself just right— but because he needed to, because his heart told him it was the right thing to do. That's why he insisted on approaching you as well.

He knew you were going to be close friends the moment you apologized for talking to him in such a rude way. And he knew he liked you too much for his own good. But honestly, he didn't care. The need to protect you made him not care at all. It actually just made him embrace his feelings more. It never really bothered him to be attracted to someone. He knew he was a bit of a lovestruck guy, and whenever he knew he liked someone he didn't hesitate to admit it —unlike you. 

He told you what he used to do before ending up in prison, what he did to end up in there, the reason why he didn't get any visits... He wouldn't usually tell someone that, but it was different with you. He had the feeling that you understood him, that you could empathize with him and wouldn't judge him for just anything. On the other hand, he knew you were lying to him about why you ended up in prison and why you didn't really have any friends —in or out. But he knew it wasn't easy for you —he had already seen how difficult it was for you to keep your feelings controlled, so he didn't want to push things unnecessarily further. He wanted to give you your space, since he knew he had already kind of taken that from you the moment he insisted on continuing to talk with you.

Or at least he wanted to, until he saw that asshole beating the shit out of you in the shower stalls.

Frankie got there just in time before he punched all the teeth out of your mouth. He pulled him back and hit his head against one of the lockers, leaving him unconscious as well. Then he grabbed you and took you to the infirmary. He stayed there long enough to hear them say you were going to take some time until you were fully recovered, and that you would probably be unconscious for a couple days. He also heard them mention the other guy was better than you, that his time in bed would be briefer than yours.

A cop came to them both and asked them about what had happened. Frankie could only say that he had seen that asshole already beating you when he arrived. The cop could only say he would have to do extra work for a week as a punishment for leaving the other guy unconscious, but at least he understood Frankie just wanted to protect you.

"You did good", he said to him.

Then he went to talk to the other guy. And Frankie could only fist his hands and hope no to break anything.

"I was asking him to help me with something in the shower and he just started punching me!", was what he said.

"What about the wounds on his face?".

"Well, I had to protect myself!".

"Sure", the cop wrote something on a paper, then stood up. "As soon as you're out of bed, you're being transferred to the next block".

A smile formed on Frankie's lips as the guy shouted complaints at the cop. Still, he knew you weren't safe. Not yet. Not even with him away. And he knew his dogs were everywhere —this block, the next, the prison some kilometers away from that one...

But he would still try to keep you out of danger.

The next day, he was in his cell with his cellmate—who he usually didn't pay much attention to— when some guy came to tell them some shit about you. 

The truth about you.

Frankie didn't want to believe it at first. He couldn't. But the more he thought about it, more sense it made to him. Aside from your short frame and your beautiful little face —focus, Frankie, this ain't about that—, your explosive personality and your obsession over you being too weak or small kind of gave it away. It actually made sense. It was true.

He went that same day —after the night of your encounter with that fucker— to check on you to the infirmary. He wanted to know how were you doing, and he wanted to hear from you the truth of all the scene those guys were making over you. He was told you weren't conscious yet, but he stayed nonetheless —grabbed a chair and sat beside your bed.

He grabbed your hand softly in his, examining your broken knuckles and bloodied skin. He should have known better than to leave you alone like that in the shower stalls. He should have been with you. He should have protected you, like he had told himself he would. 

"I'm sorry", he whispered.

Distant voices woke you up. A female one and two males. You couldn't make out what they were saying, but you didn't need to. You remembered everything pretty well.

You tried to stretch yourself, despite the way your face was hurting terribly. Still, you couldn't move one of your arms. Your hand was being held by another.

You opened your eyes and saw Frankie sitting beside you, his hand holding yours even with his eyes closed. As soon as he felt you move, he opened them and sat up, staring into your eyes.

"Oh god", he breathed out. A smile played on his lips as he examined you. "You okay?".

His question made you laugh.

"Well, I've been better", you smiled at him. "But I'll survive", you looked around. "How long have I been...?".

"Four days. Well, three and a half", he swiped his thumb over the back of your hand, you figured involuntarily. "They've been taking good care of you".

"I bet...", you looked down at his hand on yours. Frankie pulled away as soon as he saw you do it.

"Sorry—".

"No, it's okay", you were the one to grab his hand this time. "I don't mind...", you whispered that last part. Frankie tried to hold back his own smile. Then something he remembered made it go away as soon as it had come. "What?", you stared into his eyes. He kept swiping his thumb small soothing circles on the back of your hand.

"Will you tell me—", he paused to breathe; "What's the deal with you?".

"What do you mean—".

"I know you lied to me, Lost", he tried to keep it cool, but his eyes gave away how mad he was at you for not having told him the truth and having gotten in so much trouble because of it. "I... I already know... a bit of it, but—".

You turned around to try and find the asshole that had shattered your face, but he was nowhere to be seen.

"They moved him a block away from here", he answered even before you could ask. "He still had the chance to spread the rumor, though". 

"Shit", you whispered to yourself. You looked down, biting your downer lip and trying to stop your own tears from coming out, trying to ignore the stinging pain in your face.

"Hey", he grabbed your chin softly, careful not to hurt you more than you already were, and made you look at him. "Tell me what's wrong", he spoke slowly. "Whatever it is, I don't care. It'll still be you no matter what", he caught a tear halfway down your face, his skin grazing lightly against yours. You took a deep breath.

"A... couple years ago... I had someone really close to me", you sniffed. "I... He got me... pregnant... And...", you dried off your tears. "I didn't want... I couldn't..." you took a shaky deep breath, trying to steady yourself. "He also tried to... run away...", you tried to swallow the lump in your throat. "He was into drugs... and was told to move... Without telling me...", you sighed in an attempt to ignore the way your breathing was starting to get heavy and your chest was starting to hurt. "I couldn't take it anymore", you sniffled again and looked away from Frankie, unable to maintain your eyes on his piercing look. "I shot him. And...", you lifted your shirt just enough to reveal a big scar that went across your stomach. "I shot the baby, too", your voice broke.

"Oh, Lost", he reached out to grab and hug you. "I'm so sorry", he rubbed your back, trying to calm you down a little. You held tight onto him, squeezing him as close to you as you could.

He kept you in his arms for a while as you cried out your grief. Everything made more sense after you told him the truth. He finally felt like he understood you, really understood you and your feelings. And he finally felt like his feelings were resolved, just like yours.

He had to leave when some cops came to interrogate you about what had happened in the shower stalls a few days ago, but he promised to come back to see you that night. In the meantime, you answered the cops' questions and tried to rest as well as your pain allowed you to.

You got out of bed a week after that. The first thing you did was hug Frankie, since he was waiting outside the infirmary. He took you to your cell, staying by your side and not walking more than two steps away from you. Everyone was looking at you either with a weirded out expression or with hungry eyes. As soon as you noticed, you got even closer to Frankie.

That was the moment you gave up on trying not to look small or weak. Every single man on that prison was now trying to fuck you or fuck you up. Damn, you had never felt so vulnerable.

Good thing I have my brick wall over here, you thought.

Frankie could see the looks the other inmates gave you, and the ones you gave them. If he felt like he had to protect you before, now he felt even more responsible —especially since he had let that motherfucker beat you like that. He felt guilty, and even though you tried to tell him it wasn't his fault he couldn't get that thought out of his mind.

"Look at me", you grabbed his jaw, making him look at you, just like he had down a week before when you were still in that bed in the infirmary —though this time you were in your bed. "It wasn't your fault. I told you it was my problem and that I'd deal with it, and so I did".

"I know", he stared into your eyes. "But if I had done something, if I had gone talk to him or—".

"You couldn't, Frankie", you tightened your grip on his jaw. "Look, he had threatened to tell everyone if he found out I told you anything. It would've happened sooner or later, I just exploded when he asked me to do that with he and his men", you let go of him. "Think about it this way —if you hadn't come just in time to stop him from beating me to death, I wouldn't be here right now", you patted his thigh. "So you saved me anyway. And I also got you to keep me away from those creeps", you both laughed at that.

"I guess you're right", he sighed. "Still sorry".

"Didn't I just tell you not to be?", you crossed your arms and stared into his eyes with a frown. He couldn't help the smile that crept on his lips.

"But I still am", he crossed his arms as well. "What, am I not allowed to be?".

"Not if I tell you not to be".

"Ooh, getting bossy", he chuckled. "I like that".

"Okay, now you're acting like one of those freaks out there".

"Come on, y'know I'm not like—".

"Shut up, old man".

You grabbed his face and pulled him in for a kiss. A slow, passionate, nice kiss. Frankie stayed still for a moment before replying with just as much passion. You then pulled away to look into his eyes. You were both smiling.

"Wow", he whispered. "Didn't think you'd take the lead".

"Well, someone had to, and you didn't seem to be going to, so...", you grabbed his hand. "I couldn't bear the sexual tension anymore".

"Oh, sexual tension?", he rolled on top of you. "We can fix that...".

"No! Gross! Get away!", you laughed and pulled him off of you.

"Why?" he approached again, leaning down to leave a trail of small kisses down your neck. "I wanna...".

"Frankie, no", you pulled him off again, this time with a serious look on your face. Frankie's smirk was immediately deleted when he saw you, and seemed to be asking for an explanation. "I... I can't", you looked down. "Not like this, I'm... not ready", you cleared your throat before looking back up at him.

"M'kay", he grabbed your hand once more. "We won't do anythin' you don't wanna".

You smiled at him, thankful. He understood that you needed space and you weren't ready yet to show him that part of you. And he would respect you and your decision not to. The last thing he wanted was to make you uncomfortable, make you push him away from you. So he put it back in his pants and gave you a comforting smile.

He stuck with you all the time, by your side, not daring to leave you alone. Whenever some guy would look at you with a weird face, he gave him a warning look —or push him away from you both. He didn't let anyone other than the cops get close to you, which you thanked him for in multiple occasions. For once in a long, long time, you weren't afraid of being too small or weak. You weren't worried about your looks anymore. You weren't worried about anything with Frankie beside you. He was your only reason to want to keep going despite being in a place such as that damned prison. The only reason why you wanted to keep going at all.

The only reason why you preferred spending twenty years in prison before being back out in that shitty world.

[emeritus-fuckers]

Hi!! I saw that headcanon requests for the Repugnant members was open and as a Repugnant stan I can't not join in (I love yalls headcanons btw, you're kinda who inspired me to do headcanons but I'm too nervous to reveal who I am at this exact moment)

Could you do headcanons of the Repugnant members (or just Mary if you don't wanna do all of them) catching their S/O trying on their clothes and making silly poses in the mirror with their instruments/drumsticks?

Repugnant catching their s/o mimicking them in front of a mirror

Mary Goore

They've been looking for their favorite leather vest for a while now.

After a while they've figured out they must've left it at your place when they were over last time.

So they simply went to your place and got in using the spare key you gave them.

They would have to come over soon anyway. Since they also left their guitar at your place as well, deciding to leave it there for a while after you asked them to teach you a few riffs.

They didn't hear you do anything at first, so they just assumed you weren't around.

Until they came over to your bedroom and heard not only their guitar, but also their partner trying to imitate their growls, clearly trying to do your own little attempt of a Repugnant concert.

They leaned against the doorframe like a lesbian would (something DD teased them about relentlessly) and watched.

You even nailed the little speech they gave before Morbid Ways.

And then, just as you were about to announce the title of the song, you heard a familiar voice growl it out instead.

"Mary?! The fuck, dude?! Scared the shit out of me!"

And they just grinned, pulling you into them with a corny "Mary Goore 2.0" joke.

And then, finally taking their vest off you... as well as the rest of your clothing.

Yup, they fuck you over it.

Are you really surprised?

DD Sars (fwb, not s/o)

He was getting frustrated, not able to find his favorite shirt.

He spent the night at Mary's, since he got wasted last night and their place was simply closer to where he was.

Yes, they did fuck. But that's besides the point.

He ended up taking one of Mary's shirts before heading home.

And as it turned out, you decided to stay for the weekend again. Which was fine, of course. He gave you a key for a reason.

Though it did surprise him a bit to hear his guitar playing "From Beyond the Grave" in his bedroom.

And so he sneaked in there to see you. In his favorite shirt, with his guitar. Imitating the glare he would always give Mary when they started to say dumb shit on stage.

And seeing that made him snicker, which in turn absolutely fucking terrified.

"What are you doing here?!"

"I live here, you stupid cunt."

"... oh. Right."

He's gonna make fun of you for a month.

G. Grotesque

He loves his family. But he also loves his bass. So when his aunt decided to visit his family for a weekend, he wanted to make sure his precious instrument was safe from his very young cousins.

Naturally, he left it with you. His darling, his sweetheart, his pookie, the love of his life, his beloved partner.

And now he was going to visit to pick his bass back.

Maybe (hopefully) get a cuddle session.

And a few kisses.

Okay, lots of kisses.

And since he decided to make this a surprise visit, he did not expect to see you attempting to do a riff from "Another Vision" in his battle jacket that he forgot at your place.

You were failing miserably, hitting the correct notes with luck instead of skill, considering you didn't even hold the guitar properly. Clearly more focuses on making silly poses than actual music.

And fuck, it was absolutely adorable in his eyes. He didn't have the heart to stop you.

Once you finally notices him, the just hugged you, kissing all over your face and repeating how cute you were.

E. Forcas

You felt cold while watching a movie together at his place, so he gave you one of his grey hoodies to warm you up.

And after the movie, he went to make you guys more tea. He had those cool, really big cups that you really liked.

And as you waited in the living room for him to come back from the kitchen, you could hear his fingers drumming against the kitchen table. Sometimes you wondered if he even realized he did that, or it was just a habit of him drumming whenever he had nothing else to do with his hands.

Speaking of drumming, as you waited, you got bored, too. And then you saw his drumsticks. And so you picked them up, pretending to play the drums, imitating the sounds it would make with your mouth.

You didn't even realize when he came back, somehow managing to always be almost completely quiet. But you did realize what you were doing when you saw his amused, yet adoring look.

"I've... made an idiot out of myself, huh?"

He just patted your shoulder before quietly offering to let you try doing it again, but on his actual drum set.

The way your eyes lit up in excitement told him everything.

He showed you a bit of how to play some of their songs. Slower than he would actually play them on stage, of course.

While you had something else planned originally, there was something very endearing in seeing you play (well, attempt to play) his instrument, so he just let you have your fun.

~

Written by Nosferatu (Jez).

Taglist: @copias-fluffy-asscheeks @tuttifuckinfruttifriday @calliedion-dungeon @randominstake @callmeicaro @nuntia @thermodynamic-comedian @vampyrolesbos

[aching-tummies]

Empty Coffee

One thing I've been meaning to do when I found a free morning was to drink some form of coffee on an empty stomach. Coffee is a diuretic and is well-known for contributing to upset stomachs and urges to use the washroom. In my case, coffee is usually the main supplier of dairy in my diet. I thought it'd be interesting to try it on a completely empty stomach first thing in the morning.

I bought one of those pre-made/premixed types and got it from the fridge upon waking. I didn't want to straight up chug it, especially not when it was so completely cold. Yeah, it would have been fun for kink purposes, but I also wanted to enjoy the coffee. This bottled type is a treat for me. Stuff like this is pretty expensive where I live so I usually buy it as a treat for myself and I didn't want to chug it without savouring it. Didn't really matter in the end because I only got through about half of the 400mL bottle before errands and such started calling my name.

I'd downed maybe half the bottle, taking a few good gulps from the bottle and tried sloshing my stomach a bit but didn't notice much activity. I kind of gave up on the whole thing for a bit...but then my stomach started rumbling--quite loudly and it felt really squirmy...and I started feeling hungry too. That crampy, hollow, pinching feeling I usually feel in my guts after ignoring maybe 2 rounds of hunger pangs hit pretty much right away this time. Unfortunately, this was the point where errands were screaming my name and I had to give up kink-time to go do errands on my day off.

I think my stomach was still mostly asleep. It usually takes maybe 2-4 hours after waking up for my stomach to start growling from hunger on a day off (if all I'm doing is lounging around for those few hours). That morning, I think it took maybe less than 90 minutes for my stomach to start demanding food? So I think the coffee definitely kick-started my digestive tract faster than it normally would have.

I definitely want to try the coffee on an empty, barely-awake stomach again someday soon...but I thought I'd share and see if anyone else has attempted this or has suggestions or wants to somehow use this as inspiration for an RP-Ask.

[leidensygdom]

What first made you interested in drow?

OHHH so-

It was a bit of a coincidence really! I started RPing in RP forums way before I got into TTRPGs. RP forums (in Spanish communities, at least) more often than not had original systems and worlds, which often drew inspiration from here and there. This forum was your usual sort of medium fantasy steampunk mix, with a few typical DnD races. And I ended up as a mod. They wanted to develop some areas of the continent that weren't defined, and I was assigned a chunk of land that was mostly just a frozen wasteland, and was told to fill it with something. (Here's a lil stupid graphic I made for it, the region was named Saintserre)

So I went through the races in the setting and saw these funky cave-dwelling elves that had never been used or mentioned once in the entire setting. And I was like, "okay cool, I think I will grab these! They can live underground where it isn't as freezy!". The description for them in the forum was just a paragraph long, and it didn't mention basic details. Another mod told me "did you know they're matriarchal?" and I was like "no but that sounds cool!", and grabbed that detail. And thankfully, no one in the entire forum actually decided to mention they are usually evil. They had expected me to do them evil, but... I just didn't know that was the usual flavour for drow, and I came up with something very different.

They were religious in a weird sense. They adored the sky and attributed constellations a lot of meaning. The sky, as something distant to them, was seen as sacred and made some of them pilgrimage to the surface, just to observe it and make predictions. These beliefs came from the times they had been in the surface and found solace in the night sky, given how the light was painful to their eyes. The society was experimenting some huge magic advancement related to crystals though, which were a bit taboo to use, and there was this whole "tradition vs progress" thematic to it.

Now, the reason crystals were taboo was because drow came from a much more advanced society that used crystals. They had used and abused them for everything: Even defying death. The city had a growing population of crystal-like liches (named watchers), which at some point, turned against the living population as crystal-corruption ran rampant. The few survivors fled the city, and for months, they travelled under the deadly cold with the night as their mantle (which was a reoccurring thing in their history), which reinforced their astrological beliefs. They decided to forbid and burn any knowledge they had on crystal usage, wanting to avoid the catastrophe from happening again, and left the crystallized city behind, forgotten and filled with aberrations. I hinted slightly at this lore in the forum with this fun little gif (my first gift ever!), which spells "We are watching". I wanted to use these creatures for something >:3c

I started to build a bit about this reveal with the first character that was made in this region, which was interested in the lore. And then, well, the forum died down due to admin drama and we didn't get to it. But I was happy with the worldbuilding I did, so I packed my ideas and put them in another forum, wanting to explore them further. And my next time using drow, I told myself "what if I explore what happened in the crystal city BEFORE the catastrophe?", and my setting Gharmyra was born. Which is the one for my DnD campaign!

... And then someone told me to read Salvatore's books, I gave the first three a read, and I was like "huh what the fuck. Nah" and ended up never dealing with "canon" lore for drow.

(This got lengthier than expected but I just really wanted to share what was my first experience with drow! I remember this setting fondly)

[stephspurs]

hi, welcome back! can i please request one for jordan henderson where he asks her to buy whatever she wants for her birthday (with his money, as a gift) and she buys herself a necklace with his initials. he goes crazy when he sees it and it’s all cute and fluff<3 (this is actually tiktok-inspired!) thank you!

I got carried away & put my own little spin on it...hope you love it! please do let me know x

call it what you want with Jordan Henderson

I don’t want to remember life before him, before us. Of course, I do - how could I forget? After years of cataclysmically bad press surrounding my latest two albums, subsequent hate and the overwhelming threat of irrelevance that pulled me under and kept me indoors and out of the public eye for months on end - I stumbled, quite literally, into my Jordan. 

It was late November, cold and dark in dreary Liverpool. Don’t ask why I was there - perhaps it was because I had a friend living in Merseyside who promised I could fly under the radar because “no one here cares about anything other than the pub or football, or watching the football at the pub”. Unsurprisingly, I became one of these people because there I was at the local, carrying myself a pint of apple cider with just a little bit of ice in it and bumping into Liverpool’s captain. At first I kept moving, after apologising, with my eyes set and keen on the table with my friend waiting for me with her mouth screwed up trying not to laugh at my well known clumsiness. 

I’m not sure if it was the yellow lights in the garden area or the beanie that covered what I now know to be his dirty blonde, yet forever golden, hair - the warmth that encapsulated my soul with just a look in his eyes and a mumble of “no problems” from his mackem mouth was enough to set my grey world alight. You can call it what you want, but this was the exact moment my world changed. 

My baby's fly like a jet stream

High above the whole scene

Loves me like I'm brand new

After months of relentless messages and lowkey, albeit it slightly underground, dates I eventually gave in to what was inevitable - he was my person. He taught me how to be loved irrespective of what has been tied to my tired heart. He loved me like I was brand new and in a way, I was. I was brand new to him. I was brand new to us and our snowballing love which, like its namesake, seemed to grow at an immeasurable rate. 

He respected my boundaries with the media and press, I knew who he was on our first date - he was honest and told me about his profession, I was honest and told him about my career as an artist. He asked what I was doing in little old England, I told him I needed a break from myself. He made sure I felt safe enough with him that I could be blissfully unaware of the outside world, if it was my choosing to do so. In saying all of this, I also admitted my own mistakes with many of my past relationships and owned up to all of the burned bridges left in my path, however I was sure that in my past life I must have done atleast one thing right to end up in his path. This world may be a mess but laughing with him under the covers on a mundane Tuesday evening made everything ok. His starry eyes truly do brighten up my darkest nights. You can call it what you want, but I know that this is simple, pure and honest. 

I want to wear his initial

On a chain round my neck, chain round my neck

Not because he owns me

But 'cause he really knows me

11 months after that first spill, of both my drink and my heart, it was my birthday. We had agreed no presents - from both of us, for each other, for all occasions. This birthday of mine was the first in many years where I truly didn't have a wish for anything different than what was currently in my life. This birthday was also the first in many years where my wish was for someone else, for Jordan, to feel the same happiness that I do every time I look at him. 

He had respected my boundaries with going public and never pressured me, we had kept this love bubble secure for 11 months already - with only our nearest and dearest being allowed in. I supported him wholeheartedly in every venture, both professionally and personally in private. If anything that the last almost-year had shown me was just how much it meant that he had taken the time to get to know me, and care about me enough to do so. No one else had ever taken the time. 

So there I was, the evening of my 29th birthday, sitting upstairs in my dressing room while my friends and his - our friends - sat around the table downstairs laughing and chattering and reminiscing on life both before and after the amalgamation of both Jordan and I. Looking at myself in the mirror, for the first time not wanting anything to change, wishing I could freeze this moment in time forevermore. I didn't even hear Jordan come into the room let alone come up behind me, wrapping both arms around my shoulders and resting his left cheek to my right one, both of us breathing each other in. 

“I have something for you” I whispered into the silence. 

“But it’s your birthday, why am I getting a gift” He whispered back. 

“This is for me, as much as it is for you” 

In the reflection of the mirror, he watched me pull the drawer out and pick up a chain. I looked up and held his eye contact. He held out his hand and I dropped the chain in his palm. He pulled his chest away from my back, pulled my hair to one side and looked back at me in the mirror. 

Slowly he grabbed the other end of the chain, brought it around my front and laid it across my collarbones. Focusing on closing the dainty clasp and settling his breathing, he took a moment to himself before looking at the reflection once again. Staring back at him against my skin, the initial J. Simple, pure and honest. You can call it what you want - it was love. 

[crescent-cubed]

Tried my hand at writing a parody since I got inspired after hearing Chonny's Inferno for the first time (I'd already heard Charlie's Inferno, too).

So I present to you,

Decent Man's Inferno

-

Here lies... well, me.

I just wanted to tell you all, so you know what to expect.

-

I liked my showers pretty fair,

not too chill and not too warm.

Did my best to get to work,

Even when it's hard and cold.

-

I did like being kind,

To my friends and family, but

I kinda always felt like it never was enough.

-

I was always kinda different, a bit too shy and strange

But I found some love and life to get me right through ev'ry day

Weird I can't remember what age I wound up dead

But I know that at least that I had lived my best.

-

While my friends and family talked,

I wound up on golden stairs,

As they reminisced about all the good times that we shared.

"I'll miss you all,"

I cried as I walked upstairs,

And I looked up to the light only as much as I'd dared.

-

There were two angels at the entrance,

One pristine and one less so,

And I waited silently in line til it was time to go.

The perfect one gave me no mind, but the other took me aside.

-

"Excuse me sir,

We all thought that we'd let you know before,

There really isn't much you'd like beyond those right there pearly doors.

Can't say you don't belong here, but we have a better plan,"

He whispered in my ear as he took me by the hand.

-

He said, "Excuse me sir,

We all thought that we'd let you know before,

There really isn't much you'd like beyond those right there pearly doors.

Can't say you don't belong here, but we have a better plan,"

He whispered in my ear as he took me by the hand.

-

"All hope abandon, ye who enter in."

I faltered at the flames, but the angel said I hadn't sinned.

-

We kept walking on and on,

Through the brimstone smell and flames,

Right until my guide stopped short and he shouted out a name.

-

With a flap of raven wings,

A figure came down from the dark,

And he smiled at us both,

Saying it's time to depart.

-

I was so confused.

If I'm not heavenbound or damned,

Then where in the world,

would they take this simple man?

-

The new guy laughed,

As he gave my guide a kiss,

Saying "Let's not make him wait, my love,

Take too long and you'll be missed!"

-

They took my arms in theirs,

And high and high we climbed.

And then the three of us,

We're out of hell in record time!

-

Then off there in the distance,

I could see a gentle light,

Not as burning as the flames of hell,

And unlike heaven, not as bright.

We landed near a town, and they said...

-

"Excuse me sir,

We think that this is what you're looking for:

A place where you live happily, no guilt or fear forevermore.

If heaven's for the saints, and hell's home for the damned,

Then this new limbo is the decent people's land."

-

They said, "Excuse me sir,

We think that this is what you're looking for:

A place where you live happily, no guilt or fear forevermore.

If heaven's for the saints, and hell's home for the damned,

Then this new limbo is the decent people's land."

-

Even when you try your best, some might say it's not enough,

But if you still do what you can, then just tell them to shut up.

Even when you try your best, some might say it's not enough...

Even when you do your best, you may think it's not enough,

But if you still did what you could, then tell your brain "shut up."

Even when you do your best, you may think it's not enough...

-

And so, "Excuse me sir,

We think that this is what you're looking for:

A place where you live happily, no guilt or fear forevermore.

If heaven's for the saints, and hell's home for the damned,

Then this new limbo is the decent people's land."

-

"Excuse me sir,

We think that this is what you're looking for:

A place where you live happily, no guilt or fear forevermore.

If heaven's for the saints, and hell's home for the damned,

Then this new limbo is the decent people's land."

[granjagranja2]

My oc btd. Interlude between the ending "you helped ren" and "TPOF"

"Let's try to move forward Ren, we can do it." That's what she had told him that day. No more pain. A normal life. She wanted to show them that a new life was possible, that he didn't have to be afraid of the future. She had shown him her life, which despite all the disgust and difficulties, she kept going. Or at least she tried. Over time, meeting at the same bar every night had become their routine. They had fun enjoying their new life, or so she thought. Having had problems at work, she had come later than usual that evening. Much later than usual. She wanted to postpone it, but he insisted. "Hey! Here I am! Sorry I was so late...." "oh don't worry, I already got something too". She looked down and saw two glasses on the coffee table. She shook her head and let out a tired sigh "in any case, I still apologize. My car also broke down, and I'm not even sure it's a real fault given the neighborhood I live in.... but let's talk about 'other !!". She said the last sentence with great enthusiasm. She didn't want to think about the bad things, not in front of him, at least. She took her glass and drank it all in one gulp. "How are things going? They're better, right?" "oh this one for sure." He smiled at her. "yay!!" - she exclaimed exultantly - "this weekend we could go downtown, what do you think? Or we go back to the amusement park, it was fun, even if the roller coaster was a bit turbulent....we were both of us a little stunned. Especially me." She looked at him. "ok just me". She laughed. She felt tipsy. Like that day. Maybe more. Stranger. She lost her balance for a moment and slapped her hand on the table to support herself. She looked at him again. "Everything OK ?" he asked her, in a calm tone, as if he were chatting about the weather. As if he expected it. Her vision went blurry. She remembered the previous time and started to get scared "Ren....tell me you didn't really do it" and he, with a sadistic smile, replied "It'll be fine. I'll take you home. I think you drank too much. But don't worry, I'll take care of you." He approached. "N-no!". She looked around. There was no one there, it was closing time after all, maybe the bartender was in the back but either way he or she wouldn't have heard her, or she would have seen her and thought she was drunk. She gave up. He took her by the shoulders. He walked her out. but they weren't heading towards her car. Before she completely lost consciousness, she could only ask "where are you taking me?" "I already told you. Home darling."

She woke up on a bed, in an unfamiliar room, still a little dazed. She looked around. She was surrounded by soft stuffed animals. On the bedside table was a large vase of flowers, matching the colors of the room. Her favorite color of hers. There were also various items inspired by her favorite characters. She looked towards the window. Full light. How many hours had she slept? She also noticed that she wasn't wearing her clothes, but a pink babydoll. She touched her neck and felt something hard and cold. The collar. Obviously. She noticed that this time she also had the anklet attached to the wall. She made a noise of annoyance. She found it hard to believe that he would do it again and instead..... Suddenly the door opened "you woke up. Did you rest?". Ren. His ears open and pointed towards her and his usual smile. "Ren, what are you doing? Why did you bring me here?" I thought things were going well," his ears twitched, before turning back to her, "now definitely." Do you like your room? I dressed it up with what you like, just like I told you." "I-I.... yes but she - she shouted at him -.... you didn't answer me!! I thought you were fine! You said.... you said that....", Ren, impassive, raised his hand and showed her the remote control. She went silent. He smiled at her satisfied, but his ears were still back. "I know what I said. You wanted to try a new method. I agreed to what my pet wanted. But the world is cruel." He gently grabbed her chin. "Darling. I've seen how much effort you put in without receiving anything in return. How much you SUFFER. But I will take care of you. Lots of care." His eyes lit up and she started climbing onto the bed. She backed away, starting to cry, but he climbed on top of her anyway. He started licking her salty tears and rubbing herself. "So gentle. So kind. So SWEET"-he passed his hand under her dress-"But don't worry. We have a lot of money." "the money will run out sooner or later" "no, it won't run out." As he said this, he stood up a little, canines extremely close together, tail wagging. He had a feverish look on his face. She knew what it meant. He would torture himself to death other people. "this isn't fair...." "life is unfair" - he stared at her "you still haven't told me what you think of your room" - he pulled at her dress, but without tearing it - "I know you don't you like surprises, but I paid attention to your tastes." M/C looked around again. She actually liked the room. But the situation....she didn't want to contradict him or he would get even more angry. She avoided his look. "y-y' I like it. Thank you. But....but it's all so new, you know what I'm like." The beast-boy seemed undecided about his next move. But then he stood up-"I'm sure you just need more time to adjust. I'll let you rest". he gave her a direct kiss, before heading to the door. She hugged the first pillow near her and, looking down, whispered a 'thank you'. When Ren reached the door, before closing it, she heard him add "don't go out without my permission. And especially while I'm working." She instantly understood that she couldn't help but nod. She trusted him. And she had made the same mistake again. Maybe he was right.

[atomic-insomnia]

last line...snippet

seeing @dustylovelyrun post inspired me to put this up, plus I’ve gone so long without any progress on my WIPs this might kickstart me back into working:

“God, the stars are something else when it’s cold out,” Alfred said, folding his arms behind his head.  A lazy, detuned sort of smile stretched across his face as he stared into the dark sky.  “It’s like it clears everything else away.”

The cold and dark made Ivan think along different lines.  “…Alfred,” he said quietly, not even sure he wanted to ask but hit with curiosity, “When was the first time you died?”

Beside him Alfred shifted, wrapping his arms around himself instead.  “…I don’t remember.”

“Oh, no?”  Ivan kept his voice light.

“I really don’t,” Alfred said.  “I was…I was brand-new.  I think it was touch-and-go for a while with me.”

“What does that mean?”

“That, uh, that it could’ve gone either way.”  Alfred sighed slowly, sending up a cloud of breath.  “I could’ve failed to ever take hold.”

“Oh.  What a shame that would be.”  Cupping his hand to block the light, Ivan lit two cigarettes.  A sudden bright flash would’ve ruined the ability to see those stars for a few minutes.  The sharpness of tobacco smoke cut through the cold night air, not quite warm, but a little closer to it.  “Then you would never be here with me.”

“Aw, shut up,” said Alfred with a sharp smirk, “and I’d never have kicked Germany’s ass, or–or–”

“Or bankrupted the West.”

“I–well…”  Tucking his arms in tighter, Alfred sat up, his back against the building.  He didn’t look at Ivan.

Not until Ivan waved one of the cigarettes close enough to get his attention.  He double-took, glancing at Ivan’s face.

“…Spasibo.”

“Your accent is still terrible,” Ivan said.

“Back at’cha.”

“This is my country, I can speak however I like.”

“That’s not what I’ve heard.”

Ivan hissed a smoke cloud through his teeth.  “That is because you keep attempting to subvert and overthrow our socialist way of life.  You capitalist dog.”

Rather than answer him, Alfred took a long drag.  When he came up for air, he tilted his head back.

Watching from the corner of his eye, Ivan said, “…What are you doing?”

The first smoke ring he blew was only a ring because there was no other name for it.  The next two got steadily better.

Ivan knew exactly what the rude capitalist wanted him to say, and he clamped his jaw to stop himself.

The words broke out anyway.  “…Show me how to do that.”

Sure enough, Alfred grinned, all teeth.  Instead, after a slow and contemplative moment, he said, “I know it was in the winter.”

“What was?”

“The first time I died.”  Another drag, another infuriatingly slow smoke ring.  “I don’t actually know where I came from.  England claims he found me in the woods in Virginia, but Tsenacommacah–the Nation-spirit that lived there first–she always claimed the Europeans brought me.  I don’t know, I can’t remember more than little bits and pieces that far back.  I don’t remember Europe, if that’s true.  England tried to set up a colony, and…”

He paused again, but merely rolled the cigarette between his fingers.  “…And winters in Virginia are a lot colder than he was expecting.  I mean–”  And with a sheepish sort of grin he turned to Ivan, tipped his hat.  “Not like yours.”

“It is no insult to me.”  Remembering his own cigarette, Ivan feigned disinterest.  He’d never heard any of Alfred’s childhood; if anything, he’d only noticed the other when America threw off British rule.

“But still, more than he was expecting.  I remember…I remember frostbite, and…”  Alfred frowned down, drew his knees in.  “When I got here, not long after, you asked me if I ever starved to death.”

“…Ah.”

“It…it wasn’t quick.”

“It never is.”

Alfred gave a little laugh, bright and brittle.  “It happened a couple of times in the early years.  Maybe for a hundred years or so.”

“Touch-and-gone?”

“Touch-and-go.  On-and-off.  Yeah.”  He took another drag, although this one didn’t turn into a party trick.  “…I’ve starved more than just then–I guess that’s why I’m always hungry, haha.  A lot of times it happens as immigrants start getting close to shore; I’ll get dizzy, sometimes pass out.  Usually don’t actually die, anymore.  I guess I just pick up on their hunger, you know?”

Frowning, Ivan smoked in silence.  With how many immigrants he had, he’d never noticed–his hunger came about when the people already part of him fell to famine.  He’d certainly known his share of rough winters and failed crops, but…

“You sort of roll your tongue.”

<<What?>>

Hat tipped back, Alfred puffed on the cigarette and blew another smoke ring.  Best yet.  “You sort of keep the smoke in your throat, and tsk your tongue, but like, on the bottom of your mouth.”  He did it again.  A perfect circle.

Instead of trying the way he knew America wanted him to, Ivan slashed his hand through the ring.

Alfred only laughed.

An older scene from Brother, Can You Spare a Dime.  (For reference, this is the 1930′s Great Depression/American Immigrant/Early Soviet Union RusAme slow burn fic I talk about on a regular basis--historical AU but exploring the nations’ nation-weirdness enough that it technically counts as fantasy or magical realism) I’m serious when I say I can’t write attempted flirting without it turning to discussions of mortality.  I like this scene but most likely it’ll be cut or changed heavily to, you know, make something actually happen.  But still, call this proof I am still writing it.

if anyone wants to take this as a sign to post something from their WIP, consider this an open tag!

[mineashthetrash]

LONG ASS POST ABOUT CHAPLAIN ANGELS AU

Been a long time since i posted any physical/traditional art, and that's for a reason- my cameras suck! But i was doing some sketches and planning for chpa and don't have it digitally rendered, so.

I use metallic pens when i sketch, as its both pretty and helps the eyes and details to stand out, helps me remember where they are and recognize them. This sometimes fucks with the camera though, so im sorry but a lot of the colors are either muted or fucked up in other ways. These sketches are about chpa, so i kinda have to fully explain it now. Sorry.

my chpa au shuffles the events of po3 back into OOTS, due to the three all being born in the same litter (or the five, i guess?) It also revamps Starclan into a more, spooky cosmic afterlife inspired by the 'biblically accurate' trend a while back. chpa stands for Chaplain Angels, since the medicine cats still act as a 'chaplain' spiritual guide and connection to 'god' (Starclan), but also take on the appearance of Angels and are direct connections, as opposed to indirect. That is, they take on part of the powers of Starclan, instead of just ferrying vague messages.

This shuffle is actually caused by this, as medicine cats cannot have kits once they're full medicine cats (as in, biologically impossible. there is nothing there). Their body mutates slightly due to the influence of starclan and the direct unfiltered connection to their powers, and its less of a 'vow of celebacy' and more of a 'your body's change makes it impossible'. Lots of medicine cats have kits, but leafpool is the hardest to get around because she wasn't a warrior, or it was before she got her full name, or it wasn't a thing yet (like mothflight). So she cannot give birth to the Three, hence the shuffle.

ALL THIS TO SAY. a lot of shit gets shuffled and changed. Sol actually goes to Windclan, since the three weren't there in thunderclan to influence, and he had no reason to be walking on the Shadowclan border in that moment. Instead, he finds a grieving windclan lead by an irrational leader, and takes advantage of that. Why are they grieving?? FINALLY time for what this piece is actually about!! THISTLEKIT!!! WOO. Dark river happens before the three are born, but they don't really do much in the first few books, so most of its the same. Graystripe and Millie come back, Heatherpaw finds the tunnels still, Thistlekit and their siblings still go into the tunnels and get lost. Except this time, there's no Jaypaw to be guided by Fallenleaves, no five cats to carry them safely through the lake. It takes Heather and Breeze a lot longer to find them, and by that time, Thistlekit is already half dead. Jaypaw isn't there to warm them up and keep them alive until they get home. And even though Rock briefly shows up to make sure they don't die (spirit to spirit connection to Thistlekit, they find the strength to say a few words to Heatherpaw due to her body heat warming them up just enough), the cold of the river quickly kills them for good. Even if they did survive the cold, Breeze and Heather can only grab two of the three by their scruff. Heather tries to keep Thistlekit with her, but they get swept away, washing up to shore later.

All this to say, i killed Beechfur without really looking, considering he shows up for 2 seconds, and made him the spirit guide to Thistlekit. Starclan cats have a spectrum of forms, from the cat form they take to interact with the living, to the incomprehensible form that makes no sense. Their cat form, or 'comprehensible' form, is still a bit weird, but its mostly a cat. Beechfur is weird, because his fur doesn't really look like the grayish bark of a beech. So i gave him eyes the color of beech leaves in LeafFall, which is a beautiful reddish orange. It doesn't show up well in the photos, but i used a pale vermillion mixed with sunny yellow. Then his spirit form was pretty simple, i gave him textured fur (like a rug with patterns shaved into it) like a tree, and some leave accents on his tail and ears, plus a few scattered around his fur.

I also jotted down a few notes about how the afterlife works. Kits in chpa's starclan take the idea of the kits not ageing and uh. changes it. They still age mentally, but instead of always being baby for no reason, they just dont shift forms a lot. They almost always look the same as when they were alive. As much as kits being forever kittens unsettles me, the idea of aging in heaven ALSO unsettles me, so instead the spirits are ageless beings and kittens just. Prefer being a baby. They do mimic the adults by collecting cute and shiny things they like that reflect them, and using them to change their appearance. Thistlekit has a necklace of thistles, which never die or dry out. Intentionally similar to the dried thistle necklace i gave to Heathertail, who lives with the guilt of them dying.

Text: Beechfur observable form - Textured fur, like a shaved rug. Tail & ears are beech leaflets? (the bunches of leaves on a tree; i dont know the term for them)

Text: (arrow pointing from thistlekit (bottom left) to gorsetail (top left)), "same, but paler." Note next to beechfur (top right), "eyes the color of fall beech". (Arrow pointing from sedgewhisker (bottom right) to beechfur), "more muted"

[fyozai101]

The Café

The smell of the coffee from the coffee shop I’ve encountered every time I go to work smelled the same fresh odor. It warmed my heart in this cold winter day. Lonely Day by System Of A Down was playing. It was the song I listened last night for over and over again hoping the next day wouldn’t be lonely as the day before. I looked at the grocery list that I held in my hand. It could wait for ten minutes, I thought. I’ve finally decided to enter after many years. The coffee shop was filled with books and beautiful fairy lights. It even had a photo booth for those who want to make a memory of a day they spent here. “Ice americano with an extra shot. David.” The same order I have every day in the office. Is it because I liked it? I wish. I ordered and drink it ‘till the last sip hoping I’ll like it or even get used to it. I can’t though. The only reason I have this order in the first place was to wake up, have energy, and do my  job once I was so passionate about. But I never got used to this bitter taste. “David.” I heard my name and I reached into my pocket to grab my wallet, I realized it wasn’t there. I panicked. “Sorry sir, I forgat to bring my wallet. So sorry to cause-“

“No problem. I can pay.” I heard a woman’s voice. She was smiling. I felt a weird  feeling I haven’t felt before, as I knew her for a long time. “Oh no, please don’t bother ma’am.”

“No please I don’t want anyone to ever enter this café and not taste its coffee. Especially in this beautiful winter day.”

“How’d you-“

“I’ve been coming to this café for 10 years now and this is the first time I’ve seen you enter here.”

She gave the money to the cashier and she gave the ice americano to me. “I’m Debra.”

I felt my heart flutter. “So how did you liked the place?” she asked.

“It might be the most beautiful coffee shop I have ever seen.”

“You should’ve visited here when it was Christmas. The lights, the tree and the gifts that we bring, it was just magical.” I took a sip from my coffee, it was nothing I had before. It tasted and smelled so much better.

“I saw it, I think I saw you that night with your friends. You seem so familiar.”

“Probably because I spent most of my time here, writing my book.” She reached for her bag on the table that was right next to us. She pulled out a notebook.

I took another sip. She quickly showed me the pages, she had a really good handwriting. But there was something I noticed other than the pages that were filled with words, there were drawings. So many drawings between the pages. Even though from outside it seemed all tangled it was beautiful and those drawings felt so familiar I couldn’t help myself but ask. “What do you write?”

“Everything. Everyone. Whatever inspires me. I…like to observe people. People who seem to have normal lives. They all have same but also different struggles, they all deal with it in so many different and some people never deal with it. Like you.” Me?

She opened a page and gave it to me. I felt a weird feeling in my stomach. What did she meant by ‘You’. And I looked at the page showed me.

“For ten years now you follow the same routine. You walk past here every morning, giving a glance but never a try to this coffee shop. Most of the days you run because you are late and it is all because every night when you come back from work you get distracted by the street musicians. For the first time ever you didn’t choose to go to grocery store and walk into this store. Why, David?”

Maybe if it was someone else in my position they would’ve been creeped out but I was enchanted. “The song.”

“So it took you ten years to enter this café and all it take was the song?” She giggled.

“I wish I knew.” I let out a small laugh too. “Who knows maybe today was supposed be that day.”

“Hmm okay then let me ask you a question. Since you made a difference today, changed your schedule a little bit. What would you like to do?” I looked at the photo booth. She turned her head to where I was looking. “Let’s go, then.” Without a word I followed her. We get into that booth and made silly poses. After that she made me try other coffees that I wanted to try for a time now. She showed me the drawings of me. But they were a little different. In one drawing I was playing a guitar with that street musician. In one of them I was petting a cat in this café.

“Is there anything else you want to do?”

“No, this is fine. Shall we order another drink?” She looked at me with a bittersweet smile.

“I don’t think we have time though.”

And if you go I wanna go with you

I remembered what I should’ve remember. I remembered a beautiful woman with the warmest smile smiling at me every day when I come back from work. I remember losing my courage every time I want to enter the café.

And if you die I wanna die with you

I heard my favorite songs for the last time. I heard my mom crying begging me to wake up.  I saw Debra’s face smiling at me. “You can rest now.”

By; Sunya