#it was definitely a challenge to get the likeness right

[unconventional-lawnchair]

Self Fulfilling Prophecy

Sirius Black x Potter!Reader

Summary: Potters love like it's a sport, but it seems that only a Black can challenge that.

WC: 3.6k

CW: Sexual leaning scene, Hurt Comfort right back to Hurt, background Jegulily, Alphard Black the gay.

The first thing you notice when you wake up is Sirius’s arm draped lazily over your waist, his fingers tracing slow, deliberate patterns along your bare skin. The sunlight filters through the curtains, casting soft golden light across the room, turning the tousled sheets into a hazy, dreamlike mess. The scent of Sirius- smoke, cedar, and something warmer, more distinctly him- lingers in the air, wrapping around you like a second blanket.

You shift slightly, careful not to disturb the warmth around you, and feel Sirius stir behind you. His breath brushes against the back of your neck, followed by the low rumble of his voice, thick with sleep. "Morning, trouble."

A smile tugs at your lips before you can stop it. “Morning,” You mumble, voice soft and still tinged with the haze of sleep.

Sirius leaned up on his elbow, the lazy grin he always wore stretched across his face. His fingers ghosted over the faint marks he had left along your neck, brushing over them like they’re something sacred. “Look at you,” His voice dipped lower. “A proper masterpiece. I should frame you.”

You swat at him, heat rushing to your cheeks. “Shut up.”

“Oh, I mean it,” Sirius smirked as he dodged your half-hearted attack. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say you enjoyed last night more than you’re letting on.”

Your fingers twitch against the sheets, and you fight the urge to glance at him again. You lose. He’s already watching you, that teasing gleam in his grey eyes, like he knows exactly what you’re thinking. And damn him, he probably does. Your eyes flick down, and that’s when you notice the marks on his chest- red scratches trailing down his sides, love bites peppered along his collarbone. 

Your cheeks burned hotter.

Sirius noticed. Of course he does. He leaned in, his grin downright smug. “Admiring your handiwork, love?”

“I’m admiring the fact that you didn’t fall apart under pressure,” Your words were quick but locked any real bite.

“Oh, I definitely fell apart,” He murmured, his voice low and dangerously smooth, like silk sliding over bare skin. He trailed a hand down your back, pulling you just a little closer. “You made it easy.”

You laughed, soft and genuine, before gently pushing his hand away and sitting up. “Alright, that’s enough of that,” you said lightly, brushing a hand through your hair as you swung your legs off the bed. The warmth of the morning fades slightly as your feet hit the cool floor.

Sirius lets out a dramatic groan behind you, flopping onto his back like you’ve just delivered a mortal wound. “What, you’re leaving already? I thought we’d at least have breakfast. Maybe share a cigarette. Do that thing where you call me insufferable and I remind you you’re madly in love with me.”

You glance over your shoulder, raising an eyebrow. “You’ve got a hell of a memory for something that didn’t happen.”

“Oh, but it will,” He ran his fingers through his hair, propping himself up on an elbow, his grin widened. “Mark my words, love. You’ll miss me by lunch. Or sooner.”

You snort, rolling your eyes as you gather your clothes. “Whatever you say, Pads.”

“Mm, you kept a keen ear for what I said last night.” He teased in that insufferable song of his, watching you with an infuriatingly casual air as you pull on your shirt. “But you’re leaving in my favorite shirt, which means I’ll have to track you down to get it back. Convenient, isn’t it?”

You glanced down, realizing you are indeed wearing one of his threadbare band tees, and roll your eyes. “Consider it compensation. For the rabid assault one my neck I endured.”

“Oh, you wound me,” He sighed dramatically, rolling out of bed. “Stealing my shirt, leaving me all alone… You’re really a heartbreaker, trouble.”

Despite yourself, you laughed, slipping on your shoes and brushing your hair out of your face. Sirius was already pulling on his trousers, looking every bit the disheveled rogue he prides himself on. By the time you’ve straightened yourself up, he leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, watching you with that lopsided grin that always makes you feel like he’s up to something.

“Need anything before you go?” He prodded, his tone light, almost mockingly polite. “Coffee? Another round of ego-boosting compliments? My eternal devotion?”

You shook your head, smirking. “I’m good, thanks. And as for your eternal devotion, I think James called dibs on that.”

Sirius chuckled, following you to the door. “Yeah, well, he doesn’t wear my shirts nearly as well as you do. Don’t tell him I said that, though.”

“Your secret’s safe with me, Pads,” You smirked, turning to look at him as you pulled the door open.

He stepped closer, brushing a lock of hair out of your face with a lazy affection that feels almost second nature. Before you said anything, he kissed you- not desperate or heavy, just Sirius, soft and familiar, like it’s the most natural thing in the world. When he pulled back, he grinned and muttered, “I love you,” that same way he always has, like it’s just another part of his vocabulary.

You smile faintly, choosing to ignore it. As you always have. “See you around, Siri.”

“Mhm,” He smiled easily, leaning against the doorframe as you step outside. “And don’t think for a second you’re keeping that shirt.”

You toss him a smirk over your shoulder. “Guess you’ll have to come and get it.”

Sirius stays in the doorway, watching you until you disappear around the corner. Whispering a soft curse as he watched you turn the corner.

~~~

In every single universe, a Potter falls for a Black.

And in every single universe, it didn't end well.

You knew it better than most. From the look in your brother's eyes in his seventh year, when you found him crying in the common room. He confessed to you then, about him. About Lily. About Regulus. 

You would say you were surprised to learn about what those three had been up to together, but it only reinforced your firm belief in this messy web you were born into. 

It was like a self fulfilling prophecy. Just a year earlier, you sat with your father in the kitchen, listening to stories about him and a young Alphard Black. He didn't have to tell you what he meant to him, you could see it. In the way he looked at the photo book- in the way he looked after Sirius.

Potters and Blacks would find each other in every reality, in every universe, in every bloody cliche. And every single time, it would end with someone shattered.  

For your father, it ended with Alphard estranged and lost to time- the only true family he had left going to seek refuge in the arms of the man he once loved- their love buried under the weight of duty and expectations. For James, it ended with Regulus’s name carved into a cold, unforgiving wall in the Department of Mysteries, a ghost of what could have been.  

And for you…  

You weren’t sure yet.  

You closed your eyes briefly, the crisp morning air biting at your cheeks as you walked further from Sirius’s flat. The weight of his kiss, his touch, lingered like a brand. It wasn’t fair how easily he could pull you back in, how effortlessly he made you forget the countless reasons why this wasn’t supposed to happen.  

It’ll end the same way it always does, You reminded yourself. Sirius might love endlessly, recklessly, but love alone had never been enough for the Potters and the Blacks. You knew this was temporary, just another bright, fleeting moment in a cycle destined to burn out.  

But Sirius wasn’t like your father, wasn’t like James. His love wasn’t something quiet and tragic- it was loud, defiant, impossible to ignore. He loved you like he was daring the universe to try and stop him.  

What terrified you more than anything was the universe usually had the last laugh.

You reminded him every time you slipped into his bed. That it wasn't love, it wasn't more than this. 

And every single time he just smiled, as if he knew something you didn’t.  

Sirius Black never argued when you said it wasn’t love. He never fought when you insisted it was just a fleeting thing, something to pass the time, a distraction from the war, from the scars it left on both of you. He let you tell yourself that, let you believe it, but the look in his eyes always betrayed him.  

Because Sirius loved with the kind of intensity that burned everything else away, and no matter how many times you told him this wasn’t forever, he never stopped looking at you like you were.  

“Whatever you need me to be, love,” He'd whisper, his voice soft but steady, as if daring you to test the limits of his patience.  

And that was the problem, wasn’t it? Sirius never played by the universe’s rules. He’d already broken them a hundred times over- leaving the Black family, choosing James and the Marauders, standing on the side of a war that could have killed him. What was one more rebellion, one more forbidden love? 

But you weren’t Sirius. You didn’t have his boundless courage or his endless defiance. You couldn’t throw yourself into love with the same reckless abandon, couldn’t let yourself believe that this time, it would be different.  

So every time you left his bed, every time you pulled on one of his shirts and walked out the door, you told yourself it didn’t matter. You told yourself it was better this way- better to keep things simple, fleeting, to leave before it got too real.  

And every time, Sirius just let you go, leaning casually against the doorframe, a half-smirk on his lips that never quite reached his eyes.  

~~~

You hadn't seen Sirius since that morning. Not like you were trying particularly hard, he had The Order and you had your Auror work to busy yourself with. The next time you did see him, you were scared half to death.

The panic in James’s voice is what froze your blood. He didn't explain much over the Floo- just a frantic “Sirius is hurt. You need to come. Now.”

You didn't hesitate, heart in your throat as you grabbed your wand and Apparated to the safe house. The spinning sensation barely registered as you landed in the living room, your eyes immediately darting around for Sirius.  

Instead, you saw James pacing furiously, running a hand through his hair as he muttered to himself. Lily sat nearby, trying to calm him.  

“He’s going to be fine, James,” Her tone was soft- soothing but almost tired.  

James didn't respond, just kept pacing, his jaw tight. Across the room, Remus and Peter were talking in low voices, but you can’t hear them over the rush of blood in your ears.  

“Where is he?” You hissed- but not out of anger- it was the only tone you could take without letting the tears in your eyes spill over.

James finally stopped, turning to you with an expression that’s equal parts relief and frustration. “He’s in the other room. He took a hit, but Remus patched him up. I told him to stay in bed, but of course, he-”

Before James can finish, the door to the kitchen creaked open, and there he was.  

Sirius Black.  

Alive, upright, and grinning like he hasn’t just shaved years off your life.  

He was shirtless, a fresh bandage wrapped diagonally across his chest, and his hair is a wild mess, but he looked fine. More than fine, in fact, because he immediately started to crack a joke.  

“See, James? Told you I’d have the most dramatic scar story at the pub.” He traced the lining of the bandages with a chuckle. “Birds love scars.”

The room collectively groaned, but not you. You couldn't seem to move, standing frozen as relief crashed over you in waves so strong it almost buckled your knees.  

He noticed you then, his grin softening as his grey eyes locked onto yours.  

“Hey, trouble,” He whispered, as casual as ever.  

You didn't think. You didn't process. You just moved.  

In three quick strides, you were in front of him, your hands grabbed at his shoulders as if to confirm he was really there. And then, before you could stop yourself, you kissed him.

It was hard and desperate, your lips pressed against his with all the relief, fear, and love you’ve been holding back for years. Sirius froze for a fraction of a second before he melted into you, his hand coming up to cup the back of your neck and his other slipping around your waist, as he deepened the kiss.  

Sirius pulled back slightly, just enough to rest his forehead against yours, his grey eyes searched your face. His hand is still cradling the back of your neck, his thumb brushing small, calming circles into your skin. He looks completely love-struck, his lips quirked into a soft smile as he takes in your tear-filled eyes.

“Don’t cry, love,” He murmured, his voice low and tender. “I’m here. Still breathing, still kicking. It’s going to take more than that to get rid of me.”

You shook your head, your hands fisted in the fabric of his trousers. You tugged him closer, as if the space between you had personally offended you; hardly able to whisper “You scared the hell out of me, Sirius. I thought- I thought-”

Your voice cracked, and Sirius pressed a gentle kiss to your temple, his lips lingering there for a moment. “I’m sorry,” He whispered against your skin. “I’m sorry, trouble.”

“That's not fair.” You practically croaked, leaning closer to brush your own kiss against his lips. He smiled into it, no matter how careful and quick it was. Your voice hitched at the end, as if this was all some scheme, trying to get you to understand- maybe pity the poor fool before it was too late. “You're not playing fair.”

Sirius's smile widened slightly, soft and crooked, the kind of smile that could pull you under if you weren’t careful. His thumb continued to trace gentle circles against your neck, grounding you, tethering you to him. He tilted his head, his voice low and teasing, but the affection in his gaze betrayed him. 

“When have I ever played fair, love?” He murmured, the words brushing against your lips. “You should know by now, I don’t give up.”

You shook your head, letting out a shaky breath as tears welled in your eyes again. “You make it impossible, Sirius. You make it so damn hard to stay away.”

“Good,” He hissed softly, his voice tinged with a vulnerability he rarely let anyone see. “Because I don’t want you to stay away. I don’t care how long it takes. I’ll wait. I’ll take whatever you’re willing to give me. Just… don’t walk away from me, alright?”

Your breath hitched as Sirius’s thumb brushed away a tear rolling down your cheek. His grey eyes softened as he tilted his head, his expression warm and teasing, but his voice tinged with sincerity. 

“I hate you,” You whispered, your voice barely audible and cracking under the weight of your emotions.  

“Yeah?” He murmured, his lips quirking upward, a hint of mischief in his grin.  

“I hate you so much, Siri,” You echoed, though the words lacked venom.  

“Do you, now?” Sirius teased gently, his voice soft as he slowly cradled your face in his hands. His thumbs traced light, soothing patterns along your jawline, grounding you.  

And then he kissed you- soft and slow, like he had all the time in the world. It wasn’t desperate or frantic. It was Sirius: steady, deliberate, and impossibly tender. You felt your knees weaken as you melted into him, his warmth washing over you like a balm to the panic still lingering in your chest.  

For a moment, it was just you and him, the rest of the world fading into the background. But then-

“Ahem,” Someone cleared their throat loudly, shattering the fragile bubble. You had to remind yourself you couldn't rim anyone up by their neck today- especially after the show you just put on.

You jumped back slightly, your cheeks burning as you turned to see James standing there, arms crossed, his eyebrows raised so high they were practically disappearing into his hairline.  

“Well,” James said slowly, his voice dripping with disbelief and barely concealed amusement. “This certainly explains a lot.”

“Oh, bugger off, James,” Sirius drawled, not even bothering to let go of your waist as he smirked at his best friend.  

James let out a sharp, incredulous laugh, gesturing between the two of you. “How long has this been going on? And why am I only just finding out now?”  

You buried your face in your hands, your mortification complete. “This is not how I wanted you to find out,” You mumbled.  

Sirius, of course, was utterly unbothered. “Well, Prongs, in all fairness- I just found out myself.”

Okay, that one did earn retaliation. 

You quickly hit his side and he gave a sound of dramatic pain, leaning down to steal another kiss as if that was punishment enough for your abuse. 

James let out another sharp laugh, his hands on his hips now as he surveyed the scene. “Oh, you just found out, did you, Pads? That’s rich, considering the way you’ve been looking at her for years. And the rest of us have had to sit through it without saying a word.”

Lily peaked from around James, arms crossed and a smirk playing on her lips. “To be fair, I think Remus had a bet going on how long it would take for this exact situation to happen.”

Remus smirked at you, looking thoroughly unimpressed but clearly amused. “I did, actually. I’m collecting later.” 

“Remus!” You snapped, turning your mortified glare on him, though Sirius’s arms around your waist kept you rooted firmly in place. “You’re supposed to be the sensible one!”

“Oh, come on,” Remus replied, deadpan. “You’re lucky it wasn’t Peter. He was ready to start taking notes.”

Peter peeked out from behind Remus, his cheeks flushed but a sheepish grin on his face. “I thought it might help with… er, strategy. You know, for later.”

“Later?” Sirius grinned, ever the opportunist. “What, Pete, you planning to steal her away from me?”

“Godric, no!” Peter blurted, his hands shooting up defensively. “I’d never- she’s- you two- no!”

James threw an arm around Peter’s shoulders, laughing. “Relax, Pete. You’re not stepping on Pads’ toes anytime soon.” He turned his gaze back to you and Sirius, his expression softening just enough to let you know he was, despite his theatrics, happy for you. “You’re lucky he’s absolutely gone for you,” James muttered, the barest hint of fondness in his tone. “Otherwise, I might have had to step in.”

Sirius smirked, squeezing your waist with unmistakable pride. “Don’t worry, Prongs. She’s stuck with me now.”

You let out a groan, pinching the bridge of your nose. “You are all insufferable.”

Lily stepped forward, shaking her head with a grin as she took James’s hand. “Come on, James. Let’s leave them alone before Sirius starts waxing poetic.”

“Too late!” Sirius quipped, and before anyone could stop him, he pulled you closer and began reciting dramatically, “Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day-”

“Pads!” You hissed, trying to stifle a laugh as the others groaned and began filing out, muttering about needing stronger drinks to survive the two of you.  

When the door finally closed behind them, you looked back at Sirius, shaking your head in exasperation. “You’re insane.”

Sirius tilted his head, his gray eyes dancing with affection as he grinned down at you. “So, does this mean we’re official now, or do I still need to charm you with my devilish wit and roguish good looks?”

You rolled your eyes, biting back a smile as you tried to shake off the lingering warmth from his teasing. “Oh, Merlin, don’t push it, Black. I already have James to deal with. I don’t need you adding fuel to the fire.”

Sirius feigned offense, clutching his chest where the bandages wrapped tightly around him. “I’m wounded! You’re only agreeing to this to keep Prongs happy? I thought I was irresistible.”

You raised an eyebrow, crossing your arms as you leaned back against the hallway table. “You? Irresistible? That’s a stretch. I just don’t want to disappoint James- his fragile heart couldn’t take it if I broke yours.”

He stepped closer, closing the small distance between you with that stupid, lopsided grin still plastered on his face. His hands found your waist again, holding you firmly yet gently, like you might slip away if he didn’t. “Admit it, love,” He murmured, his voice low and entirely too smug. “You’d hate to disappoint me, too.”

Your cheeks warmed, and you tried to look anywhere but at him. “You’re the worst.”

“Maybe.” Sirius leaned in, brushing his nose against yours, “Terrible, flea ridden, bug eyed, everything you could possibly think of- it's bloody maddening when all I want is to be yours.”

You sighed, shaking your head but unable to stop the small smile tugging at your lips. “You are Sirius.”

“Good.” He kissed you again, soft and slow, as though savoring the moment. When he pulled back, he rested his forehead against yours, his voice dropping into something quieter, more sincere. “Because I don’t care what anyone else says or bets on. I’ve been yours for a long time, and I’m not letting go.”

Your heart skipped at his words, but you played it off with a scoff, lightly smacking his arm. “You’re such a sap, Black.”

“And you love it,” He teased, his grin wide and carefree as he pressed another kiss to your forehead.

You didn’t deny it. You couldn’t. Because deep down, you knew you’d already lost the battle you’d been fighting for years. The love you carried for him had consumed you, piece by piece, until there was nothing left but him.

And so, you stopped fighting it. For years, you let that love pull you under, let it fill the cracks and scars you thought you’d buried too deep. It became part of you- wild, consuming, unrelenting.

Because in every single universe, a Potter falls for a Black.

And as you were reminded that October, as the leaves fell and the air grew colder, in every single universe, it doesn’t end well.

[marshiewritesfics]

hey so how do you think the bat boys would deal with a very blunt yet patient s/o in an argument? Like if the boys come in angry and yelling, s/o’s like “don’t fucking yell at me”, giving the boys a second to backtrack on if they really keep going, and if the boys calm down they actually get a constructive discussion going. But if they keep going, s/o starts screaming back? The boys apologise first to s/o eventually cuz they did start the screaming match, and s/o teases them for getting too worked up and then s/o is like “I’m sorry too. I just don’t like people yelling at me”. Flip side, if the boys come to s/o right away all calm and not yelling with their issues, s/o is like “oh. Let’s see what we can do then”. / s/o always brings up stuff calmly yet is very blunt with a soft edge to it if they got a problem in the relationship?

The Batboys with a blunt yet patient S/O

A/N - Thank you, @nesting-dreams for the request! I hope that you enjoy! Requests for headcanons are always welcome!

JASON TODD-

- when he gets into arguments with you he definitely snaps back at you

- he can get confrontational at times but he doesn’t mean it

- you’re right back at him though, combating him during every argument

- he finds it a challenge at first though

- but he appreciates the straightforwardness that you utilize to your advantage

- it does take some time though before you both reach a conclusion on what to do after an argument

DICK GRAYSON-

- he appreciates your bluntness

- it sticks with him that he messed up and now he tries to find a solution

- he’s all about honesty and communication so your outbursts don’t faze him much

- he’ll just stand in one spot until you calm down and then he’ll talk to you about what happened

- he appreciates your bluntness and tries to improve himself based off what you say during arguments

- wants a quick but calm resolution to arguments

TIM DRAKE-

- he definitely values your bluntness because he’s that way too

- doesn’t have a filter when arguing but you don’t either so it normally ends in shouting matches

- but he soon realizes that he needs to be thoughtful about how to go about the issues

- so he stops, takes a breather, and slows down

- he calms down a bit and then you end up talking through any issues that you may have

- it takes time but you come out better people because of it

- he’s learned to handle your blunt nature in a way that will help both of you during any argument that arises

[dosesofcommonsense]

Don’t believe me?

I challenge you to watch this short video.

**I couldn’t watch it all the way through. It breaks my heart and repulses me that the “abortion is healthcare” motto is used in society.

Abortions have happened for centuries. It’s not like they’re a new thing. However, thanks to Margaret Sanger (Nazi) and her work in eugenics to sterilize the human race through the targeting of black communities AND Hillary Clinton championing and mainstreaming her work, the present abortion culture and satanic sacrificial system is accepted as a form of healthcare when it’s far from it.

Baby pictured at 14-22 weeks. Looks like a tiny human.

Link: https://www.abortionprocedures.com/

Can you stomach the video?

So, out of 1200 abortions, none of the pregnancies endangered the mom’s life - though the abortion endangers the mom’s life and future ability to have kids. Hmm.

Mom’s host babies. Give the baby any name you want, it’s still a baby inside the mom.

And while we’re here. Implanting a baby inside a man’s rectum “so he can give birth” is evil, is sick, and doesn’t make him a mom.

Stop affirming mental illness and let women shine as women. Men and women are different AND that’s a great thing. We complement each other. Men provide and lead; women nurture and raise kids. They are the roles we are designed for. Masculinity isn’t toxic; the absence of men is toxic.

Or there’s the damning study that found the direct correlation between a mom’s mental illness and the kid’s desire to be trans.

Of course, some people are just crazy. Look. Clinton pitched this same sad story when Roe was returned to the states where it belongs. If your state doesn’t allow abortions, you’re able to find a state that does and have the abortion there. Much like getting a tattoo from any studio you want, you can cut that kid up wherever you like. Do I agree with it? Fuck no. Can you do it? Yeah. Is it wise? No. But that’s the ruthlessness of personal choices.

Maybe this mom sounds like someone you know…an activist mom fighting for “the right to kill a baby” that you - didn’t - have - wait a minute…that sure sounds like that proud mom is subtly saying she couldn’t kill her kid…mental illness comes in all forms.

It’s certainly not like Hillary is the only one to blame, but she’s definitely near the top of the pyramid. If she hadn’t championed Sanger and abortions and helped Planned Parenthood get taxpayer money, we wouldn’t be facing the same battle or same level of sin.

Make no mistake. This is a spiritual battle with an ugly dark web of deceit surrounding abortion and what it actually means to all involved for that abortion to happen.

If you want to fund this stuff, set up a GoFundMe. As for our tax dollars, our tax money belongs nowhere near this evil system.

Joe Biden was pro abortion until after the day the kid was born. Kamala was pro-after birth abortions. Your kid was just born; Kamala was ok killing that kid and calling it an abortion.

Is Trump a solid no abortion guy? No. On that topic we differ. However, he like me says it’s a state’s rights issue and not a federal issue. SCOTUS agreed with that.

[cognitiveoverload]

The joke (Spencer Reid x reader)

summary: Spencer's joke doesn't land with the class, but you find him cute.

tags: fem!reader

note: Takes place at the beginning of 4x08.

1/?

The light bulb joke didn’t land. At all. It wasn’t bad. Well, not that bad, but it wasn’t great either. 

The silence in the room is deafening, and it’s so ridiculous that you can’t bite back the quiet chuckle that’s been threatening to escape your lips ever since that agent fell silent. His eyes shine with hope when his eyes find you, accompanied by a sweet smile, and while it breaks your heart to say it, you can feel the weird looks the other students are sending your way. 

“Sorry, it was just so… quiet,” you say with a hand held up.

Disappointment. That’s what you see in the agent’s eyes after he heard you say that. It breaks your heart because he looks like a genuinely nice guy, but you have a reputation to uphold. It took so much hard work to be as social as possible, attending parties and hanging out with people, all while keeping your grades up, being among the top students. You can’t let finding a cute joke come in the way. 

You don’t pay much attention to the conversation after you hear one of the idiots ask them if they have shot anyone. That must be the most original, most important question you’ve ever heard. Congratulations, moron. Instead, you pull out a book and begin to flip through the pages, but you can feel it. You can feel a pair of eyes finding you over and over again, and when you finally look up and around to see who it is, your gaze falls on the agent, whose hazel eyes are fixed on you. Just when you flash a barely visible smile at him, though, he looks away. 

After their time here comes to an end, you quickly throw everything into your bag, then head down to meet them, because you know you have to apologize. You stop a few feet away, fidgeting with your fingers as you wait for Professor Harris to stop talking. There’s time, you’re not in a hurry to get out. The agent looks at you, his eyes mirroring a moderate amount of excitement, and you can feel the heat rise to your cheek to make you blush. Stupid biology. 

Harris notices this silent exchange, and decides to follow his eyes to see who has caught his attention. When he sees it’s you, he starts grinning and steps back with an arm extended to pull you a little closer to their little circle. “Let me introduce you to one of our brightest students. She’s studying psychology, and she wrote an amazing article that was published in a journal not long ago,” he says. 

Clearing your throat, you extend your hand to them and introduce yourself, and in return, they do the same. Dr. Spencer Reid. Now you definitely learned his name, you won’t be able to forget it, because the moment your hands touched, you could feel that unmistakable spark. “I’m sorry to interrupt, but I wanted to apologize for that laugh. It wasn’t such a bad joke, it was just really… awkward here,” you say, unintentionally biting on your lower lip. 

Reid shakes his head as he reluctantly, but lets go of your hand. “It’s okay. Maybe these jokes should stay between philosophers,” he tells you with a humorless laugh. 

Next to you, Harris turns to the other agent and asks him if they could exchange a few words, but seeing the meaningful looks they exchange, it’s quite obvious they only want to give the two of you some space. You adjust the strap of your bag as you wait for him to speak up, because you have nothing on your mind. It’s not that you don’t want to talk, you just don’t really know what to say. He’s intelligent, that one’s clear, what could he possibly want from you? He probably wants someone who can challenge him, someone he can consider an equal, someone older than you, someone who’s–

“So, um… your article was published at your age?” he wonders, sounding a little surprised. Maybe he’s right, you're only completing your bachelor’s studies, not everyone takes the time to do these things. When you nod, he goes on. “I’d like to read it. Can you… send it to me?” 

“Sure, if you give me your email address, I’ll send it tonight,” you promise with a smile, still a little taken aback by the fact he’s interested. He didn’t even ask you what it’s about, but he wants to read it regardless of the topic. 

He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a business card, which he immediately offers to you. “Thank you, I promise I won’t ghost you,” you assure him again.

Though there’s clearly something else he wants to say, you both turn toward the door when his colleague is calling out for him. You feel a pang of disappointment that your conversation ends before it truly begins, but there’s nothing to do about it. “I’m sorry, I have to go. It was nice to meet you,” he tells you, then awkwardly waves before walking away. 

He’s nice. And charming in his nerdy way. You can’t help but imagine what it would be like if you got to spend a little more time with him, maybe managing to coax him into joining you on your social adventures. Would he learn to enjoy it? Or is he the type who’d rather spend his time at home, reading books? Maybe watching movies or binge-watching TV shows? And would he talk about his work, tell you about some interesting cases? 

God, you’re pathetic. You barely know the guy, yet here you are, already thinking several steps ahead.

[jellymochii]

Stray Kids - What Kind of Dominant are They? (Headcanons)

❣ pairings: ot8 skz x fem!reader

❣ genre: smut, fluff

❣ wc: 2.3k

❣ cw: HEAVYYYY SMUT, bondage, bdsm, pet play, dom/sub relationship, sensory deprivation, overstimulation, unprotected sex (please don't), cnc

↪author's note: hello! got in the mood to make some skz hcs. i might do sub!skz next OR dom!txt hehe. hope you enjoy!

**THIS IS PURELY A WORK OF FICTION AND DOES NOT REFLECT THE TRUE NATURE OF THE PEOPLE MENTIONED**

❣ Chan - Daddy Dom

Pretty much a classic right here, we all knew this was coming.

Is so doting and loving on you!! He loves taking care of you and spoiling you in every way possible.

You're feeling icky from period cramps? He'll get you sweet treats and massage your worries away. Bad day at work? He's right there holding your face gently and peppering you with kisses.

Loves making you feel good in any way possible. He'll make sure to make you cum at least once before fucking you, and always fucks you slow and deep–just how you like it!

You misbehave though? Yeah, you're in for it.

Will never stop telling you how good you make him feel. Lots of praises like “My sweet girl, always so tight and warm.” Or “Ffffuuuuck you make daddy feel so good, princess.”

Pulls you over his lap and hikes up your skirt, and then spanks you as many times as he sees fit. Lost count? Oops, guess he's restarting from one.

At that point there's tears in your eyes from the sting of your swollen red asscheeks as you're begging him for mercy, telling him you're sorry.

If you really misbehaved he'll pretend like he forgives you and finger your cunt–only to deny you sweet release.

“I thought I told you already, bad sluts don't get to cum, sweetheart~”

If you've been extra mouthy he'll shut you up quickly by grabbing handfuls of your hair and shoving his cock down your throat.

Don't worry, his aftercare is always immaculate, regardless of how good you were that night. Warm baths and sweet words for his baby!

❣ Lee Know - Brat Tamer

Everyone act surprised. We all know the man loves a challenge.

And you, his little bratty baby? Buckle up, you're in for a long night.

Has all kinds of toys to punish you with–cuffs, ropes, whips, etc.

Definitely handcuffs your wrists and ankles to the bed while spanking you repeatedly. You shouldn't have been a brat, now should you?

Whispers absolute filth into your ear, and you secretly love every part of it. Things like “Fucking slut, this was supposed to be a punishment–and look at you, you're dripping.” And “Aww are you crying? Poor girl, I couldn't give less of a shit, huh?”

Definitely not as nice as Chan when it comes to spanking you. At least Chan has the mercy to restart, but Minho? Yep, that's an extra 20.

If he's in a really bad mood, he'll tie you up and shove a remote controlled vibrator up your already leaking pussy and have you at his mercy as he controls every pulse to come out of it. (You're not cumming any time soon.)

May also just deny you entirely and watch you helplessly whine and cry as he jacks himself off in front of you, not giving you a single taste of his sweet juices.

Listen, he's not a complete monster though. Once everything is said and done, he'll still give you the best aftercare.

It's all a game to him. He looooves when you're extra bratty, or when you try and fight back–it turns him on even more, knowing he'll break you down entirely into submission until you're a babbling mess.

Cleans you up nicely with a warm washcloth and makes sure you pee and drink lots of water. He'll also make sure you have a nice warm meal filled with lots of protein to get your energy back.

You're still his baby at the end of the day. Just a very, very bratty one.

❣ Changbin - Pleasure Dom

Oh my sweet Binnie…he's so whipped for you.

He's at your every beck and call, and makes you feel so loved and protected–even in the sheets.

He knows how ridiculously strong he is compared to you, and how you look oh so little caged under his large and muscular body. (He loves it.)

But he's still gentle! He knows he could break you if he wanted to, which is why he treats you like a porcelain doll in bed, and gives you everything you want in more.

But man, you really drive him crazy, y'know?

He can't help it how good you make him feel, your pussy sucking his girthy length in and your walls fluttering around him. Sometimes it's all too much for him.

Takes a LOT of mental and physical strength to not pound into you like a starved wild animal, but sometimes he just can't stop himself, your pussy is just too good.

And so trust, you will get pounded into a brutal pace, but he's gonna make you see stars with how good you feel.

You can tell he's close by how his normal grunts and huffs turn into high pitched whines and moans, his muscles start quivering from all the sensations filling up his system.

Whispers things like “Aigoo, baby, I'm sorry. I-I can't help it, it's too good~!” And “Shhh I know, baby, just let daddy use you for a little.”

Huge load. That's all I gotta say, your poor cunt is leaking from the generous load of his love he's bred into you.

Aftercare king. The best and warmest cuddles you could ever ask for.

He's so in love with you, please tell him what a good job he did and how much you love him!

❣ Hyunjin - Service Dom

A service Dom is typically someone who enjoys inflicting or giving any sort of stimulation to their sub for their own pleasure.

Lover boy Hyunjin is no exception. You're his muse, after all. He wants to explore every part of your body in any way he can.

He watches your scrunched up face while biting his lip as his fingers dig into that sweet spot you love, the other hand fondling your breasts or pinching your nipple as he watches attentively for any sign of pleasure.

Definitely into sensory deprivation. He loves having you blindfolded, handcuffed, and even likes having cute earmuffs on you so you can only feel him using your sense of touch.

Ice cubes, paintbrushes, anything non-conventional that stimulated your nerves in any way. The way you twitch ever so slightly with just a light touch to your clit gets his cock soooo hard.

May also take photos of you while you're in different positions (with your consent, of course) to have for later to either jerk off with or paint and save to his private collection.

If he's eating you out, he's got his plump lips sucking on your clit while his fingers twist in every direction of your sloppy pussy, all while humping the bed from how insanely turned on he is.

When you actually have sex, his hands are all over you. Even if he's sweating buckets and shaking from overstimulation, he's gonna make you cum as many times as he wants. He has to, in his mind.

The way your face contorts from pleasure and how your walls flutter around his cock is enough to make him cum, but he always restrains himself.

Uses his dick so skillfully. He knows your pussy inside and out, and thrusts himself into you mercilessly. Yeah, you're having multiple orgasms tonight.

“Nnngh, jagi–you're so beautiful, I could hah- stay like this forever.” Or “C'mon honey, just one more, for me?”

Major cuddlebug afterwards. He'll clean you up eventually, but for now he just wants to hold you and bask in your presence and tell you how much he adores you.

❣ Han - Dom Tendencies

I don't think Han is any kind of traditional Dom, I more so assume that he has Tendencies that match up with your typical Dom from time to time.

Kinda cocky and more dominant at first when you two are fucking. Lots of “Yeah, you like that huh?”

As he gets closer though, his brain becomes more and more mushy. He's so drunk off your pussy that his head fogs up like he's in a trance.

All he can focus on at this rate if you, and how pretty you look with your nose all scrunched up underneath him.

Once you get close and start ng things like “Ha-Hannie please, I’m gonna cum~!” It's all over for him.

He's suddenly forgotten how to be dominant entirely and all he can think about is wanting to cum. You could basically say your pussy was so good that it made him go stupid.

This usually leads to him cumming before you, but if you cum before him? Oh poor boy, he's gonna malfunction.

“Jagi–angh, please cum for me, I'll do anything!” He'll say desperately pounding into you at an irregular pace, looking for any sort of stimulation.

The feeling of your walls slurping him in and coating his cock with your cum makes his eyes roll in the back of his head. You swear you can see his tongue sticking out like an ahegao.

And yet in true Dom fashion, he plugs you full of his babies–making sure every last drop seeds inside your cervix.

“Fuckfuckfuck I'm cummi- agh~!”

You're both totally wiped after that. He'll still pepper your face in sweet kisses and tell you how good you were, a few giggled mixed in between.

❣ Felix - Versatile Dom

Felix is very flexible in terms of pleasing you.

You want a softer, more love making session? He'll be right there with rose petals and candles. On the other hand, if you're wanting him to absolutely destroy you–he sure can!

Even through his cocky Dom exterior, much like changbin he's petrified of hurting you or going too far. You're his sweet baby, after all!

He uses his rich and deep voice to groan sweet nothings into your ear, he knows it drives you crazy.

When you are looking for something more kinky, he'll bust out a pair of pink fluffy handcuffs and that vibrator wand you love so much–and use it to push you farther than you've ever gone before in terms of overstimulation.

“Yeah? You like when I touch your clit like that, baby?” Or “Ohhh look at you dripping, my nasty little slut.”

Seeing you so obedient and helpless underneath him may scare his brain, but his tip throbs at the sight.

He's very generous when it comes to making you cum. He won't deny or torture you, but he loves teasing you for how squirmy and pathetic you are bound up like that.

His generosity (and slight sadism) peeks through when he makes you cum more times than you can count. And best believe, he’ll be pulling more out of you!

Creampies–lots of them.

Aftercare is always a must for both of you–kisses, cuddles and brownies in that order.

Moral of the story--he’s anyone you want him to be!

❣ Seungmin - Pet Owner Dom

Everyone act surprised part 2

Lee Know's evil counterpart in terms of brat taming. You wanna misbehave? You're gonna get treated like the animal you are.

He’ll put you in your kennel and tie your vibrator to your sopping cunt, leaving you there for as long as he sees fit.

“Awww, you're such a pathetic little puppy.” Or “Bad puppies go into the kennel, you know this. Or are you too dumb to remember, hmm?”

You've got the whole set at this point–ears, matching lingerie, and a collar with his initials engraved in it so everyone knows who you belong to.

Maybe if he's feeling nice he'll let you desperately hump his thigh for any sort of friction while teasing you.

And trust, YOU. WILL. BE. BRED.

Calls your ovulation period your “heat”, and knows how much his sweet puppy needs his cum when she's oh so desperate!

Yep, doggy style. It's both of your favorites–your brain goes fuzzy from how deep his tip kisses your cervix, and he loves hearing his puppy's whines and cries when she's close or overstimulated.

Tugs you by your collar when he's close, his breath becomes erratic and his limbs shake.

By the end of your playtime, there's so much cum seeping out of your cunt (you'll probably get plugged so you're bred properly)

Tells you how much he loves you and what a good puppy you are for him after!

❣ I.N. - Primal Dom

Oh my sweet innie

He really wants to be gentle and loving, and be the sweetheart Dom in bed.

But he simply cannot control his animalistic urges when he's around you.

He's pounding into you at a merciless and brutal pace, all while strangled cries and guttural moans spill from his mouth

He can't help it! His urges are just telling him to :(

Prefers raw any day, let's hope you're on birth control anyway

You almost wonder where this ungodly stamina has come from, especially on days when he has a lot of pent up frustration from practice–you've never been drilled in at this fast and rough of a pace.

Not a lot of words when he's close, he's breathing heavily as filthy moans growl into your ear. Almost as if he were saying “You made me like this.”

Huuuuge breeding desire. He needs to fill you up and make sure you're swollen with his kin in 9 months.

There's something so feral about him when he cums. It's the sweet release he’s been needing, but he’s so addicted to the way your walls take all of his seed in–so much so that you're in for another few rounds just so he can feel it again.

Poor baby, he's so mortified once he snaps out of it and realizes he basically ruined you. He uses gentle warm washcloths like Chan taught him to tend gently to all of your bruises.

Tons of reassurance and apologies spilling from his mouth, but you wouldn't have it any other way since you know how much he loves you.

[estherscorner]

♧ Maybe in this life, or the next.

♡ Pairings; Scaramouche/Wanderer x GN!Reader || ROMANCE

◇ Summary; Loving you was easy, but keeping you was the challenge. What happens if your fate remained unchanged during your next life?

♤ Warnings; Angst/No comfort, Reader gets reincarnated, You two genuinely loved eachother but were never meant to be together, OOC scara, vulnerable scara, soft scara, shitty writing lmao, major character death.

Let me know if I miss any!

(NOT EDITED!) [SHORT STORY]

After everything he went through for centuries, Scaramouche made a silent vow to himself that he will never get attached to mortals.

They had a short lifespan, often making the most out of it by celebrating yearly. For those unfortunate, they pass away at a young age. The reason behind it consisted of their death being caused by their own kind or a cruel fate they were destined to meet. And those who were considered lucky and spared would surpass a century of age.

So for an immortal like him, this must be the version of his divine punishment. The cruel fate that he was always destined to meet. The curse of immortality and mortality.

You. You were his curse. The one he came to adore. The one who's fate always ends so abruptly.

The one who was meant to be.

You were the one he was destined to be with, or so he believed. He wasn't a fan of romance at all, and he didn't believe in what humans called “soulmates”. But if he were to have one, it was definitely you. Almost every life you had, he had fallen for you over and over again.

And it was his curse.

He met you when he still went by Kunikuzushi. The naive puppet, exploring the world of Inazuma and learning basic survival all by his own. The one who had been abandoned by their creator, and much more recently, by a friend.

And you were just an Inazuman villager that was nearing your death. One who took pity on him as he approached you with an innocent smile.

The one who helped him learn how to love.

You taught him basic human knowledge, what they need for survival and what not. You never informed him that humans can contract diseases. Hiding the fact that you were nearing your death due to your sickness.

You didn't want to break his heart. As you were aware of how he held deep affection towards you.

When he met a small boy that was just like him and you, you made sure to stick to his side. Monitoring the boy's health in secret while helping him learn how to take care of others- but also trying your best to learn his nature. To let him learn and create an identity for himself.

You helped him create a name and identity. And you had him learn human emotions.

Which was a small mistake on your part.

You wanted to love him back, to reciprocate his feelings and help him with exploring the world. But you were powerless. You who slowly succumbed to your illness. Never waking up as you laid still beside him.

He was deeply hurt. He vividly remembered the tears he spilled for you. Crying and begging for you to stop joking with him. Thinking you were playing a cruel prank on him once more.

He wished that he was in tears because of a harsh prank, instead of weeping right over your corpse.

Your being held a huge significance to him. It it wasn't for you, he wouldn't have easily learned how humans worked.

You left an imprint on his nonexistent heart.

You, along with the boy, was his final betrayal that made him "understand". The way you made him feel, it made him doubt you. Made him feel like your love towards him was just a lie to bait him. To trick him into succumbing to his worthless emotions.

Like how you succumbed to your illness.

The second time he saw you was when he was recently promoted as a harbinger. Going by the codename “The Balladeer”. You were one of his subordinates.

He couldn’t believe his eyes, and he couldn't deny how his heart squeezed the moment he made eye contact with you.

He swore to scrub away every last bit of human emotion within him. But he already broke the promise to himself when he decided to talk to you. The harbinger that was known and feared by everyone for his cruel words was unusually quiet when it came to you. It confused you to no end but you were content with it.

It must've been a coincidence, right? The fact you were exactly similar to someone he used to love. Down to your philosophy- you were exactly like them. Only with a different name and background this time.

It was eerie how it was as if you got reincarnated. He couldn’t shake off the thought and idea of it. Was this the celestial gods above finally apologising for mistreating him? For making mad at the humans and gods?

Or was this another trap. That you were trying to lure him back into being exactly who he once was?

Weak, vulnerable, stupid. He was always like that with you.

You were much stronger this time. Much more strong willed. If he could turn you into an immortal, that would be perfect. Maybe this time you wouldn’t be unfortunate enough to succumb to a cruel fate.

He let his guard down just for you. Looking at you so lovingly despite how his harsh words seemed to contrast his gaze. How he'd check up on you after every mission. You were strong. He is strong. This felt like the correct time. Like the stars above were aligning just for him.

Maybe just this once, You would have all the time in the world with him.

And deep within him, he wished he should've just gone with his idea of turning you into one of the doctor's experiment. Making you immortal.

There your lifeless form laid on the grass. The green patch below you turned into crimson red as your eyes were back to being dull. A feeling he hadn't felt in years crept right back. A feeling he long forgot about.

Dread.

It was merely a mission that went wrong. You were his right-hand commander. The one he always trusted. He knew your beliefs, he learned the world whilst continuing to believe in your philosophy. No matter how stupid it sounded to him.

But maybe it was his mistake for trusting you to begin with.

He couldn't even mourn. This was his punishment for breaking the promise he swore to himself all those years prior. The promise he broke as soon as he decided to fall in love with you again.

This was a dark reminder that you were one of his betrayal, and nothing would ever change that.

Does he even have the right to cry? He should have expected the worst. Yet he fell for your trap and found himself vulnerable again. A state that was supposed to be erased from his very being.

He hated you. Hated how you toyed with his feelings.

The third and final time he saw you was after he erased his very existence. Becoming a failed attempt of a God and gaining an anemo vision after getting his memories back with the help of Nahida.

And those memories included you.

He came to terms with himself. Removing his past identity.

Removing the identity you helped him create.

He went by the name Wanderer. And even after all these years, he couldn't help but feel bitter towards you.

He hated how you were so significant to his being. How you could easily melt away his ice cold wall he so delicately placed around his heart to keep everyone out.

And how you always seemed to find your way to him again. Coming right back into his life.

You weren't a villager who was ill, you weren't someone who's job always risked themselves and was in constant danger.

You were a traveler with a vision. Exploring cities and landscapes you’ve heard stories of. Loving the new views and meeting new people.

But as if to mock him, you were still exact one he had fallen for.

You were the same old you, The one he fell in love with all those centuries ago. The one he stupidly got vulnerable with.

And this time, You were the first to approach him.

You were more open in this life, always chattering and bothering him despite the fact he'd try to push you away or shut you off. His cruel words didn't even faze you. This time, it was you clinging onto him.

Following him around, Buying him food, talking to him about your commissions. You were the one who constantly pestered him.

And he was still the same idiot that believed in you. Even after claiming he hated you.

How could he even get himself to hate you?

Old habits always die hard.

But he promised. Thuis time, he will learn how to love you in time. This time, he wouldn't wait until you die in his arms. He'll protect you from your fate.

“Do you believe in reincarnation, Wanderer?”

You asked, laying down on the patch of grass right next to him. He leaned onto the wooden bark behind him. Closing his eyes as he hummed. How ironic.

The wind blew stronger.

“Only idiots believe in those.”

He bluntly said. Eyes opening to gaze down at you, arms under the back of your head as you stared up at the clouds right up at the blue sky. Admiring the view despite there wasn't much going on.

He never truly understood how mortals seemed to cherish even the smallest things.

“Does that make me an idiot, then?”

You asked. Chuckling as he raised a brow at you. You closed your eyes taking in a deep breath. Moments like these are what you cherish the most. Relaxing and having fun with the ones you love.

“You were always an idiot.”

He scoffed at you. Feigning annoyance and hurt. Sitting up to his level and slapping his shoulder, sulking. You puffed your cheeks up. Not saying another word as you pout at his bluntness.

He knew it all too well. You were always trying your best to make him smile.

And you never failed to do so.

“What? Am I wrong?”

He said sarcastically, smiling at you as you just rolled your eyes at him. Scoffing at his words. He watched as you laid on your back again. Arms on your stomach this time, yawning.

“Life is really scary. But I feel like being alone is scarier.”

you said, trailing off as you glanced back at him. Eyes locking with his sharp ones. You gave him a smile. A simple and soft smile.

It was contagious. He always loved seeing that etched on your lips.

“That's why I'm glad I have you.”

You followed up. He gagged and rolled his eyes at your cheesiness. You didn’t even know why you're saying all these words.

But maybe it's because you just wanted to tell him how he truly meant to you.

“You're so cheesy, It's disgusting."

He said. Tone blunt as he placed his large hat on your face to block your view. You didn't fail to notice how his cheeks seemed to turn a hue of red despite the fact you both were under the shade.

You couldn't help but smile at his reaction.

“I'm not being cheesy! I just wanted to tell you that you mean a lot to me! We rarely have heart to hearts.”

You said. Removing his hat that he placed on your face and placing it on your stomach. Arms around the large accessory as you looked up at him again.

His elbow was on his knee, hand on his chin as he stared down at you with softened expression.

“I love you, I truly do.”

Despite the fact you loved him for centuries on end in your past lives, he never got to hear you say those words in person.

Most of the time, he could see it through your expression and your shared silence.

Maybe the problem was with your fate. Alwats ending so abruptly back then. But, he was happy that he got to hear those words. Even if it were just mere sentences. Even if it took him a lifetime.

“..Yeah.”

He couldn't bring himself to say it back. He never could. He wasn't Kunikuzushi anymore. But with your hum, it was like a confirmation that you knew he loved you back.

He wished he could tell you how much he truly loved you. But for now, he wanted to keep the comfortable silence.

There was a small glimmer of hope that there was finally some progress with your fate, even if it took him centuries, he will wait until you and him finally got the happy ending he wanted.

The happy ending you both deserved.

But he wonders if he could act fast and beat destiny, before it could take you away again.

He held your hand. Fingers intertwined as droplets of tears spilled onto the cold skin below him.

Your eyes were sickeningly dull. And he was all to familiar with how it looks.

Your vision in his other hand, slowly turning a shade of grey before completely becoming a dull colorless one. Similar to those visions without an owner.

As he held your hand. He truly wondered how many times he will have to be tormented like this.

And if he was truly guaranteed to meet you in your next life.

(A/N); "I lowkey don't like this one since I feel like I can do better! But it's fine, I'm very new to writing anyways. I also can't feel the angst ughh :("

♤ Property of Esther ♤

[judesmoonbeauty]

𝕁𝕦𝕕𝕖 𝕁𝕒𝕫𝕫𝕒'𝕤 𝕄𝕒𝕚𝕟 𝕊𝕥𝕠𝕣𝕪: ℂ𝕙𝕒𝕡𝕥𝕖𝕣 𝟝

This is a fan translation only. Please expect grammatical errors and translation inaccuracies. This is a full translation. Creative liberties are taken for characterization and smoother translation process. Cybird owns everything. Re-blogs are appreciated, but please do not post my translation elsewhere. Thank you for your support! ☾.

There was definitely a chance to escape this cruel and ruthless man.

And yet, like taking up a challenge full force, I returned to this man.

I don’t regret my decision.

Still -

Jude: Enjoy yer work, commoner.

As I sat at the desk a piece of paper fell from above.

Kate: A contract….?

Jude: Go get it signed by the noble listed here.

Kate: A signature? But, is that okay……

I picked up the crudely placed paper, and when I read it over, I shot straight up from my chair.

Kate: Hold on, isn’t this address is at the edge of town! And the deadline…..it’s today!?

Jude: Then there’s only one thing t’do. Head there quick why dont’cha?

Jude points his chin toward the exit and then coldly drops his attention to the documents in his hand.

(I don’t regret my decision to returning to Jude…..)

(Not at all. Probably not — Definitely don’t.)

I managed to get the signature without incident, and then rushed to the port where Jude was.

Kate: I got the contract signed….!

Jude: Thanks. Got back just in time, I’m leavin’ the next job t’ya.

Gokursan is being used here and it means "I appreciate all your hard work", but nowadays it’s just a fixed term, and since "san" is used, it apparently denotes that the speaker could actually care less about your efforts. So, I simply translated it as "thanks."

Kate: Next!? What’s next?

Jude pointed out the cargo with his chin.

There were stacks of boxes filled with parts that I couldn’t make heads or tails of.

Kate: What’s this…..

Jude: Are yer eyes for decoration, no matter how ya look at it, it’s a inventory inspection. Check that the quantity of items is correct.

Jude: Miss a single thing ‘n….ya know what’ll happen, yeah?

[Transitions to Raven Co.]

Kate: Aren’t I just an errand girl?!

Kate: But I’m being paid properly for the work, so I can’t criticize him in the end, which is frustrating….

My pent up complaints spill out one after the other.

Even so, watching me making a list of all the things I’ve diligently inspected,

Ellis let out a soft laugh.

Ellis: Kate, you’re thinking everything out loud.

Kate: Oh, sorry. I was being nit-picky Ellis, but…..

Kate: If I keep it bottled up, I just might go insane or I might end up KILLING Jude all together.

At that moment, laughter poured from above.

Theodore: Kate’s sucha real outspoken lady!

He’s Theodore, a salesman who works at Raven Co.

Everyone calls him Theo, and I call him that too.

Kate: Oh, Theo. Thanks for all your hard work outside the office.

The moment I greeted Theo, an intimidating stare appeared behind him.

Kate: ….And thank you for your hard work too, Jude.

Jude: Can ya not greet me all sour like? Think it’ll make me retch up my mornin’ tea.

Kate: I wonder if I’m under a curse where I’ll die if I don’t say something sarcastic…..

Ellis: Hehe, Kate you’re thinking out loud again.

Kate: It’s okay, I meant for Jude to hear what I said just now.

I smiled unperturbed…..

Theodore: Hmm, I see.

Kate: What’s the matter?

Theodore: Well, I’ve been thinkin’ this for a while now, but ain’t Kate the president’s type?

Kate: ………..Uh, what?

(Type? Who? Whose??)

While I was flabbergasted, Theo started joyfully sharing his theories.

Theodore: Ya don’t get discouraged easily, ya don’t give up, ‘n ya got guts. Right?

(Right? Even if you say that….)

When I glanced at Jude next to me, his expression read, “Is this guy insane?”

Jude: How many years have ya worked for this company. This nobody’s the exact opposite of my type!

Theodore: Huh, really? Then what’s yer type president?

Jude: Modest, not pushy, ‘n knows one’s place.

[Answer: That’s the total opposite of me +4/+4]

Kate: That’s the total opposite of me. But Jude’s not my type either, so we’re similar that way.

Jude: Well, I don’t really give a shit what’cha think, but…

Jude: Now that’cha mention it….will ya be able to find something to like?

Kate: That’s….

As pointed out, it’s a plain fact that I’m at disadvantage when finding something I like about Jude.

Jude: Ha, lookin’ real forward to goin’ all out tormentin’ ya for breachin’ the contract.

Kate: ….Ugh.

In the middle biting my lip out of frustration that I couldn’t retort, Ellis suddenly spoke up like he had remembered something.

Ellis: Oh, Jude. Didn’t you say that you had something to talk about?

Jude: Yeah, Ellis, Kate. Only you two need t’come the president’s office.

(I wonder what he wants to talk about…..)

After we gathered in the president’s office, we faced each other and Jude spoke leisurely.

Jude: I’m off work tomorrow.

Next to me, Ellis nodded slightly like he had guessed right.

Ellis: You’ve got a mission for Crown.

Ellis: Ah, Kate this is your first time coming with us on a mission, isn’t it?

Ellis: I look forward to it. Let’s do our best on your first mission….Hey, Kate?

Ellis waved his hand in front of my widened eyes.

Kate: …..I was being worked so hard that I forgot I was a fairytale keeper, and that you two were Crown members.

Ellis: Hehe, you’re so funny Kate.

Jude: She’s just a idiot.

The next day, after the sunset we went by carriage deep into a forest.

(I can see the lights…)

Traveling through the thick darkness, a striking mansion suddenly came into view within in the dense forest.

Jude: There it is.

When I looked out the window, I saw a line of carriages waiting to enter the premises, and women wearing beautiful dresses alighting from them one after the other.

It’s said that upper-class women gather every night at this members only club hosted within the mansion, where large sums of money are being made.

After Her Majesty received a report and sensed evil there, Crown was asked to investigate.

That’s what led up to this mission.

Ellis: Kate, you seem nervous, are you okay?

Kate: Y-yeah….I’m fine.

Jude: What’s with that weak little I’m fine? Looks like yer ‘bout to hurl, ain’t convincin’ none.

Jude: Can ya even pull somethin’ off like bein’ a “daughter of a nobleman”?

Kate: I can do it, I’m FINE!

In this mission, I’m the daughter of a nobleman.

Ellis is going undercover as a black-suited staff member.

(I wonder what role Jude’s going to play?)

At the meeting before the mission we were assigned our roles, but Jude never informed us of his role.

(It seems like he has a special role, but….)

Jude: Let’s go.

(It’s been a while since I’ve been on a Crown mission…I need to give it my all!)

The carriage door opened, and I steeled myself as I took a step forward.

Kate: T-this….

When I entered the mansion, I was met with a view that exceeded my expectations.

Aggressive Young Lady: Come to me, Fabien.

Woman Experienced With Pleasures: Oh, Fabien promised to have a drink with me.

Aggressive Young Lady: That is for him, the “Gentleman”, to decide.

Aggressive Young Lady: Hey, I’m in the mood for the most expensive drink.

Woman Experienced With Pleasures: Oh my, are you trying to steal by using money to compel him into what he does?!

Woman Experienced With Pleasures: If that’s the case, then I’ll order an even more expensive drink than this young lady.

Fabien: Non, non! Please do not quarrel over me ladies.

ノンノン is the katakana for “Non” or “No”. Since katakana can mean a speaker is speaking another language or with an accent, I assume he is French, and opted to translate accordingly.

Fabien: It is my pleasure to attend to both of you beauties.

Fabien: I shall satisfy you both to your heart’s content.

Both the young aggressive woman, and the experienced one shrieked at the same time.

It was a member-based club where upper-class women gathered every night.

— In actuality, it was a social club where handsome young men called “Gentlemen,” entertain women.

Kate: I see. It’s a system where women order expensive alcohol from the men they like.

Kate: If payments were made competitively like this, then a lot of money would be in the works.

Ellis: In the end, this mission turned out to be innocent. It’s rare for Her Majesty and Victor to be wrong.

The sounds of women’s voices bickering over those called “Gentleman” could be heard all around.

Kate: It’s disappointing, but also a bit relieving because it was nothing.

As I discreetly spoke to Ellis, I glanced towards Jude.

(But…I never would’ve anticipated Jude being assigned to fulfill the role of a “Gentleman”.)

Jude: …..Tch, the queen and Victor were fed phony intel by those shitty palace twits.

Jude: Ain’t goin’ along with this damned rich people’s game.

Kate: Whoa, Jude you can’t leave….If you disappear it’ll look suspicious!

I whispered after Jude who was about to turn his back on the venue.

Instantly, the lights in the room were dimmed and a spotlight shone upon corner of the venue.

Underneath the light was one who appeared to be the wealthiest among the gathering,

A noblewoman wrapped in jewelry stepped forward.

Curvy Noblewoman: I am pleased to announce this evening’s special event. And that’s —

Curvy Noblewoman: The Gentleman who makes the most sales tonight, will be presented with the deed to this piece of land that I own.

Curvy Noblewoman: Ladies who wish for their favorite to be number one, please do your best.

Jude: ………….

Jude’s eyes lit up when he heard the announcement.

Kate: Jude, what’s that?

Jude: Plot of land I’ve been aimin’ at for business expansion.

Jude: Whadda huge danglin’ carrot……Ha, sure, I’m all for it.

(What…..)

Kate: Wait, Jude. The one who’s granted the deed is the “Gentleman who makes the most sales.”

Jude: Then it’s simple. In other words, all I have to do is become number one.

Kate: Huh?

The way Jude spoke changed all of sudden.

I saw the battle of ordering drinks starting at various tables,

Meanwhile, Jude scoured the room as if looking for prey……

Jude: I can’t afford to be late. Well then, excuse me.

Jude smiled like a utterly different person and then walked toward some women wearing gorgeous dresses.

Jude: Ladies, may I join your circle?

Heavy Drinking Lady: I haven’t seen your face before….. Are you new? Of course, let’s enjoy a drink together.

Jude: Thank you. As a token of my appreciation, I’ll treat this beautiful lady to a reserved drink tonight.

Jude: It will get you so intoxicated that you’ll pass out.

(WHO IS THAT…..?!) ∘ ∘ ∘ ( °ヮ° ) ?!

The women’s faces were blushing like they were already drunk on Jude’s seductiveness.

Not only does he have a gentle expression that makes it hard to believe he’s a cold-hearted man with sadistic tendencies,

But his conversation was amazing, fully demonstrating his discerning business acumen….

Jude: These elegant, dainty heels look wonderful on your slender ankles.

Idk why, but this line was the cringiest thing I've ever translated. I'd rather tl smut everyday for a year than tl this again (¬_¬")

Jude: It’s wonderful how it embraces the latest vogue.

Skillfully capturing the hearts of women by talking about fashion….

By the time the drinks were delivered, Jude was surrounded by several layers of women.

The bottles on the table were emptied in the blink of an eye, and the women began to compete by ordering more.

Ellis: Twenty more bottles to this table.

Ellis who was dressed in all black was busy as well.

Three hours have passed since then —

Underneath the spotlight, the noblewoman wearing jewelry appears again.

Curvy Noblewoman: It seems that the Number One Gentleman will be determined soon.

Looking over, I saw Jude and one other person still sipping alcohol in the room where noble ladies and Gentlemen were passed out dead drunk.

It was the Gentleman with the highest selection rating in the club.

Curvy Noblewoman: The sales of them both are equal, so I’d like to propose a special challenge.

Curvy Noblewoman: How about a one-on-one match to see who is the better Gentleman?

Curvy Noblewoman: What game shall we play……Heehee, this is your first time visiting here…..

Curvy Noblewoman: Well, let’s have that pretty lady over there choose.

At that moment, the dazzling spotlight shone upon me.

Kate: Wh-me….?

Ellis: Kate get’s to decide? That’s a pretty big deal, right?

While I was still in shock, I was led to the seat and was sandwiched between Jude and the number one Gentleman.

Number One Gentleman: Nice to meet you, beautiful lady.

Jude: I’ll take on any challenge. I’ll do as the princess commands.

[Main Story Master List] [Chapter 6]

T/L note: Haha, poor Kate was so worked to the bone that she forgot she was a fairytale keeper, poor thing! I hope you all enjoyed this chapter, I can't wait to share the next chapter too!

Dividers: @.natimiles Tags list: @sh0jun @theimaginativelyreticent @sapphire-323 @velisle @nateko @greatwitchsongsinger @injudescoat @aeyumicore @complexivelovely @cosmowgyral @lunaaka @rosalyne08 @8the-perfect-lie8 @voydsoul

If you wish to be added (+18 YO), or removed from my translations tag list, please let me know!

[sysmedsaresexist]

(A Shitty But Important) News Flash ⚡️

📣🚨📣🚨📣🚨

Record scratch

Stop now

Please read

Before we forge on, this is unfinished. I just couldn't get through it. This article upset me. Posting just for the link and my unfinished thoughts.

Put down your pitchforks and pick up your reading glasses, we've got a mutual enemy.

Explanatory hypotheses of the ecology of new clinical presentations of Dissociative Identity Disorders in youth

This was published in 2022 and... please tell me no one else knew this paper existed? How have I never seen it before? I feel cheated. I feel like I just found out there's mean girls talking about our communities behind our backs.

I'm kind of speechless. I've highlighted the important bits, read those.

Abstract

Dissociative Identity Disorders (DIDs) are controversial psychiatric conditions encountered in clinical practice and nosology. DID, as described in the international classifications, has little similarity with the clinical picture of “DID” met in current youth psychiatry. From this perspective, we hypothesize that this current clinical presentation does not satisfy the categorical criteria of the international classifications. Based on the two terminological challenges related to the definition of DID (i.e., the notion of dissociative disorders and the different meanings of the term identity), we propose to differentiate two distinct entities from each other. The first is medical and listed in diagnostic criteria of international classifications; the second comes from popular culture and refers to the vast majority of clinical presentations received in daily clinical practice—presented under the term Dissociative Identity Conditions (DIC).

Pause, because I need that to sink in.

We've been downgraded.

I say "we," as if I'm including myself in this "youth" group. This article will tell you that it cannot be applied to adults.

But despite the fact that I'm (very) old, and despite that it explicity says it can't be applied to me, it does.

I feel personally attacked, despite my journey ending long before this applied to me. This tells me there's a flaw somewhere.

Since the status of DIC is a hot topic in current clinical psychiatry, we aim to identify eight possible explanations that can be provided to support its occurrence: (1) impact of iatrogenicity;

I need to stop right there and just... bask for a moment.

This article is about to tell you that your knowledge of DID is so good that you EDUCATED yourself into having a fake form of it.

There's no going back. We forge on.

(2) factors of suggestibility and desire for social acceptability; (3) psychoanalytic explanations; (4) neuropsychological explanations; (5) socio-cognitive explanations; (6) emotional labeling; (7) narrative explanations; (8) and transient illnesses explanations.

Let's pause again.

Let's think very hard for a second.

In conclusion, we sustain that DIC results from a narrative interpretation of medical discourse by popular culture, developing in patients presenting undeniable distress. Such a transient disease fits in an ecological niche, which echoes the values of society, persisting under the action of a need for narrative continuity of the self.

[sschizoid]

Hello again :3 idk if you did something like this in the past (sorry if you did I'm new to the blog :( ) but you ever did the tulpar crew in an AU they survive the crash? Like how their lives are going now?

tbh I've actually never really thought about it! but I'm up for the challenge ( ◡̀_◡́)ᕤ

--

curly

(ignoring the fact that in a realistic setting, his injuries would have most definitely killed him) when rescued, he's got hypothermia, sepsis, blast lung, as well as a laundry list of other complications. it's a miracle he's even alive. his burns are treated through a series of xenographs

he's deaf, as the explosion ruptured his eardrums, and his vocal chords have been effectively fried, so after a series of surgeries and physical/speech therapies, he's left only able to communicate with an eye-tracker until his laryngeal burns are eventually healed. even then, his voice remains scratchy and rough

he's not the man he once was. he has a particularly rough time adjusting to and accepting his new life, as well as dealing with extensive pain and trauma from the crash, but his support system is incredibly strong. he eventually comes to terms with his situation and becomes an ambassador for talking about workplace negligence and the importance of mental health awareness

and he blames himself for everything

jimmy

when initially rescued, everyone is in so much shock that nobody thinks to even mention him being the catalyst of just absolutely everything. but once the shock wears off and people start talking, his deeds are soon brought to light, and he is promptly sent to a maximum-security psychiatric hospital for an indefinite amount of time. he is never charged or held criminally responsible for his crimes on the grounds of insanity

he feels nothing. after months on the ship, his body, mind, and emotions being in absolute overdrive, he can't even find it in himself to feel anger anymore. to feel guilt. to feel anything. its as if a switch has been flipped, and all he hears is a perpetual ringing in his ears as the underlying thought echos that he should have aimed the gun higher

anya

after a lengthy court battle with extensive news coverage, her and the rest of the crew are individually awarded with a hefty sum of compensation due to physical and emotional damages. she's able to take a deep breath, knowing that the medical bills she had from getting her stomach pumped were easily covered, as well as her utilities and rent, for awhile

she miscarries from a combination of stress, malnutrition, and of course, her overdose. her emotions are... well, she doesn't really know what to feel. part of her feels relief, obviously, but the other feels a sick sort of grief that she cannot understand. to cope with these emotions, she finds an online support system for those who have gone through similar experiences as well as a therapist, and curates an environment for healing/moving forward

after taking a few months to herself, healing and spending time with loves ones, she eventually finds the drive to head back to nursing school. while there, she meets a girl whom she grows to be very close with, one who almost loves her cat as much as she does

swansea

just absolutely numb and jaded in every sense of the way. it takes a great deal of effort for him to open up regarding not only the head trauma, but the mental trauma as well. his family eventually drills it into his thick skull that being vulnerable around the people you love isn't weak, and in fact, its one of the bravest things you can do. putting his pride aside, he learns mindfulness, how to open up, and how to accept the help people want to give to him

he has frequent nightmares, mostly revolving what he did to daisuke, but his dog sleeps at the foot of his bed and is quick to wake him up with a few licks to the hand when he's displaying frantic behaviors. after awhile, the two of them finally meet up, and daisuke ensures swansea that he did what he thought was right. and he forgives him

spends a lot more time outside these days. goes on walks, travels with his wife, even has his coffee on the patio instead of somewhere like his desk or couch. he finds that his memory isn't the best anymore, but when he can, he remembers to appreciate the little things in life

daisuke

it all feels like a dream, really. one moment, he's floating through clouds and running through a river, the next, he's awake. in a hospital, and everything hurts. he wakes up with his family at his side, as well as gifts, bouquets of flowers and balloon arrangements. his mother feels guilty beyond belief. daisuke tells her it's not her fault and that he loves her

the surgeons did a pretty bang-up job at patching him back together, the only real evidence of his physical trauma being a faint diagonal divide between his eyes after he's fully healed. he's not quite as symmetrical as he once was, but he says the scar makes him look 'rugged'. he actually hates it, but keeps that to himself

takes a break from the workforce and goes to college, but actually stays in the field of electrical engineering. its what he's found himself to be good at, and passes his introductory classes with relative ease, thanks to the knowledge swansea drilled into him

--

this one actually took me a long time to piece together as I tried to make it as realistic as possible. hope you enjoy!

[resident-idiot-simp]

Origins but I have Wade kill Victor

(x)

James didn't mean to get attached to Wade but his charm was undeniable and he was the first person he had ever met that didn't fear him. His presence was addictive, his joy infectious.

Wade was undeniably endearing and James couldn't help but like the fool. Wilson would go out of his way just to hang around him and James couldn't bring himself to run the fool off.

The more time they spent around one another the harder it was to deny their growing relationship. James didn't realize until it was too late until Victor was pulling him off of Wade and snarling I'm his face.

"I've had about enough of this runt." Victor snarled. James sees Wade jump up with a sneer on his face, "What the hell is your problem Creed?!" Wade challenged.

"My problem is the runt is getting far too cozy with the likes of you." Victor snarled at Wade who scowled. "Let me go Victor." James growled at his brother who just glared at him. James felt as claws sank into his nape and he yelped and tried to twist out of the man's grip.

Wade realized a moment later what happened and snarled as he pulled one of his knives and sliced at Victor. The man snarled as he jerked away from the blade and his grip loosened enough for James to escape.

James grabbed and sliced with his own claws at the hand that shot out to throttle Wade. "Don't you dare." James growled, ignoring the growing number of onlookers. Victor just continued fighting and turned to slice once again at James.

He took the hit but broke Victor's arm in retaliation. Wade stabbed Victor in the side and dodged another swipe. James was thrown to the ground and Victor lunged at him with a snarl. Wade didn't think as he kicked the man off James and reached to grab his katana that had been laying a few feet away.

He didn't think as Victor lunged again, claws digging into James's chest. Didn't think as blood flowed from James's mouth. Didn't think as he sliced at Victor's head.

He didn't think as head was parted from body. Didn't think as the fucker died on the spot.

He only realized what he did after he saw the horror in James' eyes and the limp body fell onto him as blood flowed.

Only then did Wade drop his katana And push the body off of James. He realized he might have fucked up, but couldn't bring himself to care as he drug the man to his chest and held him tightly.

"Are you ok?" Wade asked worriedly. James didn't answer, just clung to him shaking. He was definitely in shock and Wade just sighed. He would be ok thanks to his healing factor but that didn't solve any other issues.

The other watching didn't say a word as they stared at the beheaded body. It was only moments later that Stryker appeared face thunderous. He however stopped short at the scene in front of him.

Wade locked wide frantic eyes with him and the Colonel stayed silent. Stryker had seen how Victor treated his brother and it was.... something. He often wondered if it was worth the trouble of keeping him around considering how disgusting it was. He knew full and well this wasn't a murder Victor had definitely deserved it, but that doesn't mean he was pleased.

Victor was one of his best and would do anything he was tasked with. Losing him was a big hit especially since he was what kept James around. However it looked like if he played this right he could keep James with minimal issues.

Wade hadn't looked away as he had decided what to do. He sighed and looked away. They could handle this on their own; there was no need for him to get involved.

Wade seemed pleased enough with this as he drug James up and started making his way back to the man's quarters. The quicker he was no longer drenched in blood the better. He glared back at the others in a silent command to clean up the mess.

It wasn't close to sexual as Wade cleaned the blood off James in the showers and dressed him in fresh clothes. James didn't speak for the rest of the night he layed curled into Wade's side. James hated himself for the fact he had never felt safer as Wade let him sleep practically on top of him.

James didn't know when he woke up but it was still dark. He was still curled up on top of Wade. He doesn't realize he's crying until Wade starts to stir.

"Hey kitty what's wrong?" Wade asks as he runs a hand through James's hair. James honestly didn't know why but he couldn't stop. Wade just messaged at his scalp and he babbled about nothing. James just buried his face in the other man's neck.

"Thank you." He mumbles into skin and Wade pauses for a moment. "No problem kitty cat." He said with an audible smile and James knew he meant it. Neither knew when they drifted back off.

The others awoke to the sight of James purring in his sleep from where he was atop the other man. While Wade snored away peacefully tangled up with James.

The change was slow and neither realized as they grew into something more. Everyone else knew before they did, but in their defense this was new to them. A truly meaningful relationship that wasn't abusive in some way. It was foreign.

Both of them grew closer and closer without thought and when the relationship evolved neither realized they hadn't kissed before. Neither realized they didn't spend all their time with one another before. Neither realized they worked better together then apart.

They were together in every sense of the word and it was no different from the start to them. They were one in the same, always together, always talking. No one even realized when they became the center of the team.

The rock in an ever-changing tide.

Stryker could do nothing and he sheathed as they refused to fall for his tricks. He could see them drifting out of his orbit and he was powerless.

When they left they took everything with them and Stryker knew no matter what he tried it would fail. He has seen people try to come between them because it ended in a bloody and gruesome death. He didn't have Victor to hunt them down and without them the team lost interest in his goals. They realized he was after a fruitless goal and got out while they could.

They had seen it was possible to escape and did while they could.

Stryker just plotted

Tags: @dis-plus-fanfic-reblog-writes

[papyriasks]

Heya, wanted to send in an ask about UF,US,SF and FS Papyruses (Papyri?) about how they show affection? Maybe how they pine after their crush? Whatever you wanna include just go wild with it! ☕🙏

The Papyri when they have a crush

(Underfell, underswap,swapfell, fellswap & fellswap Gold edition)

(Thank you for the ask too, I hope I answered it correctly :] )

UF (Boss): You will know this man likes you when you can start to get away with little things you couldn't before, instead of threats of violence when you sneakily "taste test" dinner he'll shoot you a side eye with a tap of his heel, or a pinch of the bridge bone when you've done something dumb. He has absolutely zero clue on how to initiate affection, but will subtly position himself in ways in which require you to brush past him or interact with him in some manner, craving your touch. When he gets bashful it often manifests as silent glaring, but you know him well enough that he isn't really angry. He is very cat like when pining over someone, in the sense that he pretends not to care for your presence at all but conveniently always ends up in the same room as you, and oh, he brought you food but not because he thought of you but just because it would go to waste otherwise definitely not any other reason..

US (Slim): Slim is a bit of a romantic, which surprises a lot of people as he isn't often very open about it, but he's the type to rock up to your work with a coffee and a baked good just to chill with you on your lunch break. He'll find out your star sign so he can read your zodiac love compatibility analysis online and looks for your initials on those "your initials your cats" tiktok slides. That being said he's still a bit of a hard one to get to know, sometimes you may catch him staring but if you go to say anything about it he'll just a quickly go to give you a quick ruffle on the head, call you pal and make a quick escape almost like he's shutting down any attempts to return affection. Secretly he's nervous to fuck things up, everyone expects him to be the laid back, no worries guy but letting someone in is letting them know he's got some baggage to him, and feels as though it will drive them away.

SF(Cash): If Cash has caught feelings for you, the first sign will be the fact you will be his new favourite person to annoy the fuck out of. Oh? You thought you were going to be able to quietly wash those dishes with nothing but your thoughts? Think again cause he's already leaning his full body weight against your shoulder pestering you. Cash hates sharing things but for you? You want it, it's yours now. Oh, you really like the bracelet he's got on? No sooner has he pulled you by the hand and transferred it from his wrist to yours. He always has an excuse to drag you along to some shenanigan or midnight adventure, but really he just loves having you around. He's a teaser, will tease you to no end, play the right card and tease him back and you might actually be able to fluster him. He's already a bit of a 'no idea what personal space is' kind of guy but if he's caught feelings he's always looking for opportunities to touch you, whether that's throwing his arm over your shoulder as you're walking or outright sitting right on top of you.

FS (Mutt): very protective, prefers to walk slightly behind you, always watching for any kind of threat and will challenge any stare with a twice as chilling one in return. is the kind of guy to silently notice that you're cold walking at night and without even asking he's draped his coat right over you. He's a little bit more bold in terms of how he behaves when he likes you, if you go to tease him he'll pull you in by the collar until you're a breath away and tease you right back. he's not the type to fall for someone easily , or even actively search in the first place, so if he ends up catching feelings know that he's set on you. The patient type, you don't need to return his feelings or like him back right away, but he'll wait, until it's the right time to have you. If you smoke he's always inviting you outside to share a late night smoke where the two of you will chat all night. Reliable and immensely loyal, will drop everything at any time of day or night to come help you with whatever you need if you so much as shoot him a text asking, though often times you won't even have to ask as he's often already lingering around uninvited.

FS Gold (Coffee): a nervous mess, and the definition of handsy. He is naturally very touchy with his friends so you might not pick up on his little crush immediately and you best believe he will fully well take advantage of that to constantly be all over you. He loves art and you will quickly become a big subject of his works, little squiggles in his notepad to full pieces of digital art. Can become a little jealous if he feels like you don't dedicate enough time to him despite not even being in a relationship with him. He will try to hide his crush from his brother as long as possible but once it comes out you better hope you're in his brothers good books.. that being said he won't stop gushing about you to Wine, you're always on his thoughts, and you're always his favourite thing to talk about. He's a lot more mischievous when he feels comfortable with someone and uses his more innocent and unseeming persona to drop subtle little compliments or semi-flirtatious lines to rile you up and then pretend like he had no idea what he said could be conveyed any other way.. if you do the same back he will 100% blush until his skull is another colour and will probably need 10-15mins to do a full reboot though.

[didalexiabreakupwitholgaisback]

How is Esmee defensively? I feel like she hasn’t really faced good competition yet but do you think she could start an important Champions League game ahead of Rolfö? And don’t think she’ll hold her own defensively?

esmee has improved a lot defensively but she's certainly not a pure defender. when she plays as left back, it's often her running up the wings and the right back 'staying at home' to cover position defensively. but she has the speed to track back and has a decent record when it comes to duels won.

and no good competition? 🤔 she played the full 90 minutes against real madrid during el clàssic and against man city as leftback (which was the most important match of the year so far) and had the most chances created. i think pere rates her very highly and she would definitely keep challenging rolfö in that position, which is good for the both of them.

well, it's bad news for vanegas. it looks like she has hurt her knee. hopefully it's not the dreaded injury 😔

anyway for barça, if we are getting laia aleixandri next year, then i would rather focus on the esmee and rolfö interplay for left back. we can also loop in ona on the left whenever and she'll kill it.

i'd rather give jana more substantial minutes on the right as well. and try out some more la masia kids.

we'll see what happens with her! just read that jaedyn shaw is leaving the wave, so lots of changes happening 🙏

[jd-loves-fiction]

Hello there! I don’t post often but I just had an idea for

The octavinelle boys with a pirate mc, take that idea however you like I just had to get it out of my system!

🌑 honestly have no idea why Octavinelle doesn't have a pirate member when it just MAKES SO MUCH SEEENSE (also I'm writing this in 2nd person, as usual)

❖ 𝐀𝐳𝐮𝐥 ❖

Starting with the main boy, this dynamic just sounds soooo juicy

He’d definitely try to swindle you at first, like everyone else, and probably fail because pirates tend to be the ones doing the swindling

This would certainly be frustrating for him, but also secretly impressive 👀 there's not many NRC that won't fall for his schemes so the fact that you don't, definitely makes him keep an eye on you

Or rather, have the tweels do it, he's a very busy octopus after all😌

As for the case of being in a relationship, I feel like he secretly likes being outsmarted. Having a partner who can figure him out saves him the embarrassment of having to admit his feelings

I feel like it'd be somewhat reassuring to know that you have no problem seeing right through his facade and into the octopus pod in his heart, and that you don't mind what you see in there 🥺

❖ 𝐉𝐚𝐝𝐞 ❖

Oh Jade, beautiful (scary) Jade

He'd definitely appreciate the intrepid nature that comes with being a pirate - exploring unexplored waters and fighting legendary creatures (that's what the stories say, anyway)

All that means he probably won't scare you that much, which he secretly also enjoys

I feel like he likes a challenge and you not falling for his intimidation tactics really just makes him want to find your weakness even more

Also given that his pet peeve is "organized harmony" there's a part of him that'd probably enjoy the chaos that comes with pirate life (so long as it doesn't affect the lounge, or else he might have to end your fun early💀)

❖ 𝐅𝐥𝐨𝐲𝐝 ❖

Oh god, I can feel a headache coming just from thinking about it😭

THE most chaotic due to ever duo

Wants ALLL the stories (especially the bloody ones), or at least he says so, but he gets bored quickly 💀

Always goes to you for help with his pranks

You keep his attention better than most, which Jade and Azul are somewhat grateful for. But also not because if you're around he is entirely unable and unwilling to focus😞

YOU'RE JUST SO INTERESTING AND COOL!! :D

Asks you about a thousand times for a ride on your ship... And then challenges you (on the ship) for a race in his mer form (please let him win or else he'll be whinnying about it the rest of week PLEASE😭)

[roomwithanopenfire]

Six Sentence Sunday

Hi! Thanks for the tags @confused-bi-queer @valeffelees @thewholelemon @bookishbroadwayandblind @artsyunderstudy

@monbons @bookish-bogwitch @prettygoododds and @run-for-chamo-miles!! I love seeing so many people share and i'm excited to dive into all your stuff today <3

I've been writing quite a bit, the only problem is I can't really share most of it. If I share anything of the fic I've started for COBB this year, I'll give away the whole premise, and I've been working on the end of The Way We Are and I'm pretty sure I've already shared all the parts I can from the beginning already.

Anyways, I had a hunt through my deleted scenes doc for The Way We Are and this piece of Simon & Penny dialouge needed to be shared with the world in some way, even if it's not in a fic. So have six-ish sentences of that, and feel free to listen to me ramble under the cut.

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” Penny asks, looking at me through the mirror, paused halfway through her makeup.  “Yeah, you look great with the winged eyeliner,” I tell her. “You seem fierce.” “Not the eyeliner, Simon,” she sighs. “This whole plan. It seems… risky.”

Finally working on this fic again makes me remember why I stopped and put it off for so long. Compared to anything else I've written, this one is so hard. I'm pretty sure I wrote most of these chapters 2 or 3 times over, and it's so much more than i orginally thought it would be. Which is a good thing in many ways, and I'm happy with the way the story is shaping out, and i'm so SO excited to share more of it.

But it's definitely the most challenging thing I've ever written, and the words have never came easy when I'm writing it. (The scenes that seemed to come easy often were the ones I got rid of first—like the scene above lol.) I have to work to get the words to work with me in a way that I've never had to before for any other fic.

And I don't say all this as a bad thing, but it's certainly different, and I'd forgotten about how hard it all was before I started it again. But idk, even though I have to use a completely different method for this fic than any other, i feel like it's working. I'm creating something. I'm moving slower than I'd like, and I'm getting into my own head about it sometimes, but the story is slowly taking shape (and wrapping up right now!!)

Most of my other long fics that I've written, I've felt like the story just existed inside me and all I had to do was tell it, but for this fic I feel like I have to craft it—mold the words into shape all by myself. Which is fun, but is also so fucking difficult lol. (Idk what the point to this ramble was, so maybe you can tell me ahaha)

Tags and Hellos!

@alexalexinii @aristocratic-otter @arthurkko @beastmonstertitan @blackberrysummerblog

@best--dress @brilla-brilla-estrellita @cccloudsss @cutestkilla @drowninginships

@facewithoutheart @emeryhall @fiend-for-culture @hertragedyconnoisseur @horsesarenotdeer

@hushed-chorus @iamamythologicalcreature @ileadacharmedlife @larkral @meanjeansjeans

@m1ndwinder @nausikaaa @noblecorgi @raenestee @rimeswithpurple

@rbkzz @shrekgogurt @skee3000 @supercutedinosaurs @sweetronancer

@talentpiper11 @terra-fae @you-remind-me-of-the-babe

[olasketches]

heyyy!! hoping you're having a awesome day, your artsyle is so pretty!! i would like to see tiger yuji, panther megumi and lion nobara, idk them all feel very feline-like to me XDD

heyyyy!! aw hope you’re having an awesome day too :D also thank you so much for enjoying my art style it makes me really happy that you do :”)) here’s tiger yuji, panther megumi and lion nobara as requested!! this definitely got me out of my comfort zone lol but I had lots of fun with these >.<

[queenlucythevaliant]

Tell Your Dad You Love Him

A retelling of "Meat Loves Salt"/"Cap O'Rushes" for the @inklings-challenge Four Loves event

An old king had three daughters. When his health began to fail, he summoned them, and they came.

Gordonia and Rowan were already waiting in the hallway when Coriander arrived. They were leaned up against the wall opposite the king’s office with an air of affected casualness. “I wonder what the old war horse wants today?” Rowan was saying. “More about next year’s political appointments, I shouldn’t wonder.”

“The older he gets, the more he micromanages,” Gordonia groused fondly. “A thousand dollars says this meeting could’ve been an email.”

They filed in single-file like they’d so often done as children: Gordonia first, then Rowan, and Coriander last of all. The king had placed three chairs in front of his desk all in a row. His daughters murmured their greetings, and one by one they sat down. 

“I have divided everything I have in three,” the king said. “I am old now, and it’s time. Today, I will pass my kingdom on to you, my daughters.”

A short gasp came from Gordonia. None of them could have imagined that their father would give up running his kingdom while he still lived. 

The king went on. “I know you will deal wisely with that which I leave in your care. But before we begin, I have one request.”

“Yes father?” said Rowan.

“Tell me how much you love me.”

An awkward silence fell. Although there was no shortage of love between the king and his daughters, theirs was not a family which spoke of such things. They were rich and blue-blooded: a soldier and the daughters of a soldier, a king and his three court-reared princesses. The royal family had always shown their affection through double meanings and hot cups of coffee.

Gordonia recovered herself first. She leaned forward over the desk and clasped her father’s hands in her own. “Father,” she said, “I love you more than I can say.” A pause. “I don’t think there’s ever been a family so happy in love as we have been. You’re a good dad.”

The old king smiled and patted her hand. “Thank you, Gordonia. We have been very happy, haven’t we? Here is your inheritance. Cherish it, as I cherish you.”

Rowan spoke next; the words came tumbling out.  “Father! There’s not a thing in my life which you didn’t give me, and all the joy in the world beside. Come now, Gordonia, there’s no need to understate the matter. I love you more than—why, more than life itself!”

The king laughed, and rose to embrace his second daughter. “How you delight me, Rowan. All of this will be yours.”

Only Coriander remained. As her sisters had spoken, she’d wrung her hands in her lap, unsure of what to say. Did her father really mean for flattery to be the price of her inheritance? That just wasn’t like him. For all that he was a politician, he’d been a soldier first. He liked it when people told the truth.

When the king’s eyes came to rest on her, Coriander raised her own to meet them. “Do you really want to hear what you already know?” 

“I do.”

She searched for a metaphor that could carry the weight of her love without unnecessary adornment. At last she found one, and nodded, satisfied. “Dad, you’re like—like salt in my food.”

“Like salt?”

“Well—yes.”

The king’s broad shoulders seemed to droop. For a moment, Coriander almost took back her words. Her father was the strongest man in the world, even now, at eighty. She’d watched him argue with foreign rulers and wage wars all her life. Nothing could hurt him. Could he really be upset? 

But no. Coriander held her father’s gaze. She had spoken true. What harm could be in that?

“I don’t know why you’re even here, Cor,” her father said.

Now, Coriander shifted slightly in her seat, unnerved. “What? Father—”

“It would be best if—you should go,” said the old king.

“Father, you can’t really mean–”

“Leave us, Coriander.”

So she left the king’s court that very hour.

 .

It had been a long time since she’d gone anywhere without a chauffeur to drive her, but Coriander’s thoughts were flying apart too fast for her to be afraid. She didn’t know where she would go, but she would make do, and maybe someday her father would puzzle out her metaphor and call her home to him. Coriander had to hope for that, at least. The loss of her inheritance didn’t feel real yet, but her father—how could he not know that she loved him? She’d said it every day.

She’d played in the hall outside that same office as a child. She’d told him her secrets and her fears and sent him pictures on random Tuesdays when they were in different cities just because. She had watched him triumph in conference rooms and on the battlefield and she’d wanted so badly to be like him. 

If her father doubted her love, then maybe he’d never noticed any of it. Maybe the love had been an unnoticed phantasm, a shadow, a song sung to a deaf man. Maybe all that love had been nothing at all.  

A storm was on the horizon, and it reached her just as she made it onto the highway. Lightning flashed and thunder rolled. Rain poured down and flooded the road. Before long, Coriander was hydroplaning. Frantically, she tried to remember what you were supposed to do when that happened. Pump the brakes? She tried. No use. Wasn’t there something different you did if the car had antilock brakes? Or was that for snow? What else, what else–

With a sickening crunch, her car hit the guardrail. No matter. Coriander’s thoughts were all frenzied and distant. She climbed out of the car and just started walking.

Coriander wandered beneath an angry sky on the great white plains of her father’s kingdom. The rain beat down hard, and within seconds she was soaked to the skin. The storm buffeted her long hair around her head. It tangled together into long, matted cords that hung limp down her back. Mud soiled her fine dress and splattered onto her face and hands. There was water in her lungs and it hurt to breathe. Oh, let me die here, Coriander thought. There’s nothing left for me, nothing at all. She kept walking.

 .

When she opened her eyes, Coriander found herself in a dank gray loft. She was lying on a strange feather mattress.

She remained there a while, looking up at the rafters and wondering where she could be. She thought and felt, as it seemed, through a heavy and impenetrable mist; she was aware only of hunger and weakness and a dreadful chill (though she was all wrapped in blankets). She knew that a long time must have passed since she was fully aware, though she had a confused memory of wandering beside the highway in a thunderstorm, slowly going mad because—because— oh, there’d been something terrible in her dreams. Her father, shoulders drooping at his desk, and her sisters happily come into their inheritance, and she cast into exile—

She shuddered and sat up dizzily. “Oh, mercy,” she murmured. She hadn’t been dreaming.

She stumbled out of the loft down a narrow flight of stairs and came into a strange little room with a single window and a few shabby chairs. Still clinging to the rail, she heard a ruckus from nearby and then footsteps. A plump woman came running to her from the kitchen, wiping her hands on her apron and softly clucking at the state of her guest’s matted, tangled hair.

“Dear, dear,” said the woman. “Here’s my hand, if you’re still unsteady. That’s good, good. Don’t be afraid, child. I’m Katherine, and my husband is Folke. He found you collapsed by the goose-pond night before last. I’m she who dressed you—your fine gown was ruined, I’m afraid. Would you like some breakfast? There’s coffee on the counter, and we’ll have porridge in a minute if you’re patient.”

“Thank you,” Coriander rasped.

“Will you tell me your name, my dear?”

“I have no name. There’s nothing to tell.”

Katherine clicked her tongue. “That’s alright, no need to worry. Folke and I’ve been calling you Rush on account of your poor hair. I don’t know if you’ve seen yourself, but it looks a lot like river rushes. No, don’t get up. Here’s your breakfast, dear.”

There was indeed porridge, as Katherine had promised, served with cream and berries from the garden. Coriander ate hungrily and tasted very little. Then, when she was finished, the goodwife ushered her over to a sofa by the window and put a pillow beneath her head. Coriander thanked her, and promptly fell asleep.

 .

She woke again around noon, with the pounding in her head much subsided. She woke feeling herself again, to visions of her father inches away and the sound of his voice cracking across her name.

Katherine was outside in the garden; Coriander could see her through the clouded window above her. She rose and, upon finding herself still in a borrowed nightgown, wrapped herself in a blanket to venture outside.

“Feeling better?” Katherine was kneeling in a patch of lavender, but she half rose when she heard the cottage door open.

“Much. Thank you, ma’am.

“No thanks necessary. Folke and I are ministers, of a kind. We keep this cottage for lost and wandering souls. You’re free to remain here with us for as long as you need.”

“Oh,” was all Coriander could think to say. 

“You’ve been through a tempest, haven’t you? Are you well enough to tell me where you came from?”

Coriander shifted uncomfortably. “I’m from nowhere,” she said. “I have nothing.”

“You don’t owe me your story, child. I should like to hear it, but it will keep till you’re ready. Now, why don’t you put on some proper clothes and come help me with this weeding.”

 .

Coriander remained at the cottage with Katherine and her husband Folke for a week, then a fortnight. She slept in the loft and rose with the sun to help Folke herd the geese to the pond. After, Coriander would return and see what needed doing around the cottage. She liked helping Katherine in the garden.

The grass turned gold and the geese’s thick winter down began to come in. Coriander’s river-rush hair proved itself unsalvageable. She spent hours trying to untangle it, first with a hairbrush, then with a fine-tooth comb and a bottle of conditioner, and eventually even with honey and olive oil (a home remedy that Folke said his mother used to use). So, at last, Coriander surrendered to the inevitable and gave Katherine permission to cut it off. One night, by the yellow light of the bare bulb that hung over the kitchen table, Katherine draped a towel over Coriander’s shoulders and tufts of gold went falling to the floor all round her.

“I’m here because I failed at love,” she managed to tell the couple at last, when her sorrows began to feel more distant. “I loved my father, and he knew it not.”

Folke and Katherine still called her Rush. She didn’t correct them. Coriander was the name her parents gave her. It was the name her father had called her when she was six and racing down the stairs to meet him when he came home from Europe, and at ten when she showed him the new song she’d learned to play on the harp. She’d been Cor when she brought her first boyfriend home and Cori the first time she shadowed him at court. Coriander, Coriander, when she came home from college the first time and he’d hugged her with bruising strength. Her strong, powerful father.

As she seasoned a pot of soup for supper, she wondered if he understood yet what she’d meant when she called him salt in her food. 

 .

Coriander had been living with Katherine and Folke for two years, and it was a morning just like any other. She was in the kitchen brewing a pot of coffee when Folke tossed the newspaper on the table and started rummaging in the fridge for his orange juice. “Looks like the old king’s sick again,” he commented casually. Coriander froze.

She raced to the table and seized hold of the paper. There, above the fold, big black letters said, KING ADMITTED TO HOSPITAL FOR EMERGENCY TREATMENT. There was a picture of her father, looking older than she’d ever seen him. Her knees went wobbly and then suddenly the room was sideways.

Strong arms caught her and hauled her upright. “What’s wrong, Rush?”

“What if he dies,” she choked out. “What if he dies and I never got to tell him?”

She looked up into Folke’s puzzled face, and then the whole sorry story came tumbling out.

When she was through, Katherine (who had come downstairs sometime between salt and the storm) took hold of her hand and kissed it. “Bless you, dear,” she said. “I never would have guessed. Maybe it’s best that you’ve both had some time to think things over.”

Katherine shook her head. “But don’t you think…?”

“Yes?”

“Well, don’t you think he should have known that I loved him? I shouldn’t have needed to say it. He’s my father. He’s the king.”

Katherine replied briskly, as though the answer should have been obvious. “He’s only human, child, for all that he might wear a crown; he’s not omniscient. Why didn’t you tell your father what he wanted to hear?”

“I didn’t want to flatter him,” said Coriander. “That was all. I wanted to be right in what I said.”

The goodwife clucked softly. “Oh dear. Don’t you know that sometimes, it’s more important to be kind than to be right?”

.

In her leave-taking, Coriander tried to tell Katherine and Folke how grateful she was to them, but they wouldn’t let her. They bought her a bus ticket and sent her on her way towards King’s City with plenty of provisions. Two days later, Coriander stood on the back steps of one of the palace outbuildings with her little carpetbag clutched in her hands. 

Stuffing down the fear of being recognized, Coriander squared her shoulders and hoped they looked as strong as her father’s. She rapped on the door, and presently a maid came and opened it. The maid glanced Coriander up and down, but after a moment it was clear that her disguise held. With all her long hair shorn off, she must have looked like any other girl come in off the street.

“I’m here about a job,” said Coriander. “My name’s Rush.”

 .

The king's chambers were half-lit when Coriander brought him his supper, dressed in her servants’ apparel. He grunted when she knocked and gestured with a cane towards his bedside table. His hair was snow-white and he was sitting in bed with his work spread across a lap-desk. His motions were very slow.

Coriander wanted to cry, seeing her father like that. Yet somehow, she managed to school her face. Like he would, she kept telling herself. Stoically, she put down the supper tray, then stepped back out into the hallway. 

It was several minutes more before the king was ready to eat. Coriander heard papers being shuffled, probably filed in those same manilla folders her father had always used. In the hall, Coriander felt the seconds lengthen. She steeled herself for the moment she knew was coming, when the king would call out in irritation, “Girl! What's the matter with my food? Why hasn’t it got any taste?”

When that moment came, all would be made right. Coriander would go into the room and taste his food. “Why,” she would say, with a look of complete innocence, “It seems the kitchen forgot to salt it!” She imagined how her father’s face would change when he finally understood. My daughter always loved me, he would say. 

Soon, soon. It would happen soon. Any second now. 

The moment never came. Instead, the floor creaked, followed by the rough sound of a cane striking the floor. The door opened, and then the king was there, his mighty shoulders shaking. “Coriander,” he whispered. 

“Dad. You know me?”

“Of course.”

“Then you understand now?”

The king’s wrinkled brow knit. “Understand about the salt? Of course, I do. It wasn't such a clever riddle. There was surely no need to ruin my supper with a demonstration.”

Coriander gaped at him. She'd expected questions, explanations, maybe apologies for sending her away. She'd never imagined this.

She wanted very badly to seize her father and demand answers, but then she looked, really looked, at the way he was leaning on his cane. The king was barely upright; his white head was bent low. Her questions would hold until she'd helped her father back into his room. 

“If you knew what I meant–by saying you were like salt in my food– then why did you tell me to go?” she asked once they were situated back in the royal quarters. 

Idly, the king picked at his unseasoned food. “I shouldn’t have done that. Forgive me, Coriander. My anger and hurt got the better of me, and it has brought me much grief. I never expected you to stay away for so long.”

Coriander nodded slowly. Her father's words had always carried such fierce authority. She'd never thought to question if he really meant what he’d said to her. 

“As for the salt,” continued the king, "Is it so wrong that an old man should want to hear his daughters say ‘I love you' before he dies?” 

Coriander rolled the words around in her head, trying to make sense of them. Then, with a sudden mewling sound from her throat, she managed to say, “That's really all you wanted?”  

“That's all. I am old, Cor, and we've spoken too little of love in our house.” He took another bite of his unsalted supper. His hand shook. “That was my failing, I suppose. Perhaps if I’d said it, you girls would have thought to say it back.”

“But father!” gasped Coriander, “That’s not right. We've always known we loved one another! We've shown it a thousand ways. Why, I've spent the last year cataloging them in my head, and I've still not even scratched the surface!”

The king sighed. “Perhaps you will understand when your time comes. I knew, and yet I didn't. What can you really call a thing you’ve never named? How do you know it exists? Perhaps all the love I thought I knew was only a figment.”

“But that’s what I’ve been afraid of all this time,” Coriander bit back. “How could you doubt? If it was real at all– how could you doubt?”

The king’s weathered face grew still. His eyes fell shut and he squeezed them. “Death is close to me, child. A small measure of reassurance is not so very much to ask.”

.

Coriander slept in her old rooms that night. None of it had changed. When she woke the next morning, for a moment she remembered nothing of the last two years. 

She breakfasted in the garden with her father, who came down the steps in a chair-lift. “Coriander,” he murmured. “I half-thought I dreamed you last night.”

“I’m here, Dad,” she replied. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Slowly, the king reached out with one withered hand and caressed Coriander's cheek. Then, his fingers drifted up to what remained of her hair. He ruffled it, then gently tugged on a tuft the way he'd used to playfully tug her long braid when she was a girl. 

“I love you,” he said.

“That was always an I love you, wasn’t it?” replied Coriander. “My hair.”

The king nodded. “Yes, I think it was.”

So Coriander reached out and gently tugged the white hairs of his beard. “You too,” she whispered.

.

“Why salt?” The king was sitting by the fire in his rooms wrapped in two blankets. Coriander was with him, enduring the sweltering heat of the room without complaint. 

She frowned. “You like honesty. We have that in common. I was trying to be honest–accurate–to avoid false flattery.”

The king tugged at the outer blanket, saying nothing. His lips thinned and his eyes dropped to his lap. Coriander wished they wouldn’t. She wished they would hold to hers, steely and ready for combat as they always used to be.

“Would it really have been false?” the king said at last. “Was there no other honest way to say it? Only salt?”

Coriander wanted to deny it, to give speech to the depth and breadth of her love, but once again words failed her. “It was my fault,” she said. “I didn’t know how to heave my heart into my throat.” She still didn’t, for all she wanted to. 

.

When the doctor left, the king was almost too tired to talk. His words came slowly, slurred at the edges and disconnected, like drops of water from a leaky faucet. 

Still, Coriander could tell that he had something to say. She waited patiently as his lips and tongue struggled to form the words. “Love you… so… much… You… and… your sisters… Don’t… worry… if you… can’t…say…how…much. I… know.” 

It was all effort. The king sat back when he was finished. Something was still spasming in his throat, and Coriander wanted to cry.

“I’m glad you know,” she said. “I’m glad. But I still want to tell you.”

Love was effort. If her father wanted words, she would give him words. True words. Kind words. She would try… 

“I love you like salt in my food. You're desperately important to me, and you've always been there, and I don't know what I'll do without you. I don’t want to lose you. And I love you like the soil in a garden. Like rain in the spring. Like a hero. You have the strongest shoulders of anyone I know, and all I ever wanted was to be like you…”

A warm smile spread across the old king’s face. His eyes drifted shut.