#it was supposed to be about my discomfort in spending my time elsewhere

[koyagifs]

𝓬𝓱𝓪𝓹𝓽𝓮𝓻 𝓽𝔀𝓸: 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓱𝓪𝓰 𝓸𝓯 𝓱𝓪𝓬k𝓮𝓽𝓽'𝓼 𝓺𝓾𝓪𝓻𝓻𝔂

pairing: poly!ot8 x reader au: werewolf | camp counselors | the quarry genre: angst | horror | fluff (?) word count:3.684k synopsis: you were supposed to stay inside the cabin. Why are you having a bonfire right now?! warning(s): Minors do not interact! mini make out sesh, megan not being a good friend. megan tries to kiss san!! mentions of death.

August 22,19:00

જ⁀➴ Megan clung tightly to San’s arm, her voice cheerful and light as she babbled on about random topics, clearly enjoying the proximity. San wore a forced smile, nodding occasionally to her words, but his mind was elsewhere. His thoughts kept drifting back to you—specifically, the fact that Jongho was spending time with you while he was stuck here, playing along with Megan’s over-the-top enthusiasm.

He sighed internally, resisting the urge to pull his arm away. Of course, he thought, bitterness creeping into his chest. Jongho gets to be with her. Lucky bastard.

It wasn’t that he didn’t trust you or Jongho. The poly relationship you all shared was built on a foundation of trust and communication, and San knew that. But he couldn’t help the jealousy that flared when he wasn’t the one by your side, especially now, with the strange atmosphere of the night weighing on him.

“San, are you even listening?” Megan’s voice broke through his thoughts, her playful tone masking a hint of annoyance.

“Huh? Oh, yeah,” San replied quickly, blinking as he tried to focus. He forced another smile, hoping it was convincing enough to satisfy her.

Megan narrowed her eyes at him but didn’t push the matter. Instead, she tugged him closer as they approached the small store. A smile placed on Megan face.

" oh so you're single? odd, yn was telling me that you were taken."

San froze for a fraction of a second, his hand on the door to the store. He quickly recovered, pushing it open with a nonchalant shrug as he stepped inside. "Oh? Did she now?" he asked, keeping his tone casual, though his mind was racing.

Megan followed him, her smile widening as if she could sense his discomfort. "Mhm," she said, her tone light and teasing. "She seemed pretty confident about it too. So, which is it? Single or taken?"

San busied himself with grabbing a basket, pretending to focus on the shelves as he responded. "It's complicated," he said, keeping his answer vague. He wasn’t about to let Megan dig her claws any deeper into the dynamic between you all.

Megan leaned against the counter, watching him with a smirk. "Complicated, huh? Sounds like there’s more to the story than you’re letting on."

San shot her a brief glance, his expression unreadable. "Maybe. Or maybe I just don’t feel like sharing my personal life," he said smoothly, grabbing a pack of chips and tossing it into the basket.

Megan hummed in response, clearly not satisfied with his deflection. "Fair enough," she said, her voice laced with curiosity. "But for the record, 'complicated' makes you sound... available."

San clenched his jaw but didn’t respond, focusing instead on grabbing a few more items. He wasn’t sure how much Megan really knew or if she was just fishing for information, but her persistence was starting to grate on him.

San moved through the aisles, his focus firmly on the shelves in front of him. He wasn’t in the mood for Megan’s constant hovering, and the weight of her gaze was starting to wear on him. She was too close—again—and he could practically feel her plotting something.

“San,” Megan’s voice came out soft and almost... inviting. He glanced over his shoulder briefly, catching the mischievous glint in her eyes before turning back to the shelves. “You’ve been awfully quiet.”

“Just trying to get this done,” San replied evenly, reaching for a box of cookies and tossing it into the basket. He hoped his disinterest would make her back off, but Megan wasn’t the type to quit so easily.

Megan stepped closer, invading his personal space, and placed a hand lightly on his arm. “You know,” she began, her tone low and suggestive, “it wouldn’t hurt to loosen up a bit. This is supposed to be fun.”

San tensed under her touch, pulling his arm away subtly but firmly. “I’m plenty relaxed,” he said, forcing a polite smile as he grabbed a pack of chips and placed it in the basket. “Let’s just focus on the snacks, yeah?”

But Megan wasn’t giving up. She stepped in front of him this time, blocking his path. “San,” she said, her voice dipping into a softer, more intimate tone, “don’t you think this whole ‘complicated’ thing is a waste of time? I mean, you’re here, I’m here... Why not make the most of it?”

San blinked, his brows knitting together in confusion before realization dawned. He sighed, exasperated. “Megan,” he started, his tone firm, “whatever you’re thinking, just... don’t.”

But Megan wasn’t deterred. She leaned in slightly, her eyes locking on his. “What’s the harm in one little kiss? It doesn’t have to mean anything,” she said, her voice honeyed, as if she were offering him something irresistible.

San stepped back immediately, putting the basket between them like a shield. “Yeah, no. Not happening,” he said flatly, his expression hardening. “I don’t know what you think this is, but I’m not interested.”

Megan’s playful smirk faltered for a second, replaced by a flash of annoyance. She quickly recovered, tossing her hair over her shoulder. “Oh, come on, San,” she said, feigning nonchalance.

Megan fingers on his chest, her body now uncomfortably close as San was quick to drop the basket, his reflexes kicking in as he grabbed Megan’s wrists firmly but without hurting her, stepping back to create space between them. His jaw clenched, and his usually calm demeanor cracked, revealing a sharp edge to his voice.

“Megan, stop,” he said, his tone firm and unyielding. His dark eyes locked onto hers, leaving no room for misinterpretation.

Megan eyes harden as she scoffed, stepping back as she yanked her hand back from his grip. Rolling her eyes, she walked away mumbling as San let out a sigh of relief.

August 22,19:22

જ⁀➴ You and Jongho walked side by side, your fingers interlocked as the gentle crunch of leaves beneath your feet filled the quiet air. The glow of the sunset ahead illuminated the darkening woods, casting flickering shadows that danced among the trees. Despite the chill in the air, the warmth radiating from Jongho's hand and the soft, comfortable silence between you made the walk feel serene.

" wonder how wooyoung and seonghwa hyung are doing, considering Wooyoung is a dramatic one," Jongho asked.

You chuckled softly, resting your head on Jongho's shoulder. "Knowing them? Seonghwa is probably trying to keep Wooyoung from tripping over himself while carrying firewood. Or getting distracted by something shiny."

Jongho smirked, the corner of his lips twitching up. "Yeah, that sounds about right. I give it ten minutes before Wooyoung tries to turn the whole thing into some kind of competition. You know how he gets when he’s bored."

You hummed in agreement, the image of Wooyoung challenging Seonghwa to some ridiculous firewood-stacking contest playing in your mind. “And Seonghwa will just sigh and go along with it because he’s too patient for his own good.”

Jongho laughed, his deep, rich tone filling the quiet space around you. "Hyung does have the patience of a saint. If it were me, I’d just dump the wood on Wooyoung and tell him to figure it out himself."

You tilted your head to look up at him, a teasing smile on your lips. “You wouldn’t actually do that, though. You love Wooyoung too much to let him struggle.”

Jongho rolled his eyes playfully but didn’t deny it. “Fine, maybe not. But I’d definitely make him carry the heavier stuff.”

The two of you shared a laugh, the comfort of Jongho’s presence making you forget about the eerie quiet of the woods for a moment. “I wonder if they’ll get here before San and Megan,” you mused.

Jongho raised an eyebrow at the mention of Megan. "What’s her deal anyway? She’s been acting weird all day."

You sighed, not wanting to think about the strange tension Megan seemed intent on stirring up. “Let’s just say she’s a little... overconfident,” you said, choosing your words carefully. “But enough about her. This is our time.”

Jongho smiled at that, pulling you closer. “Our time, huh? I like the sound of that.”

You giggled softly as Jongho pulled you onto his lap, his hands settling gently on your waist. The warmth of his touch sent a comforting wave through you. He pushed a stray piece of hair away from your face, his fingers lingering briefly against your cheek.

“You’re cute when you laugh like that,” Jongho said, his voice soft but filled with a sincerity that made your heart flutter.

“Oh, stop,” you teased, feeling your cheeks warm under his gaze. “You’re just saying that because we’re alone.”

Jongho smirked, leaning in slightly. “Nope. I’d say it even with Wooyoung whining in my ear about how unfair it is that you’re with me right now.”

You burst out laughing at the thought, leaning your forehead against his shoulder. “He would, wouldn’t he? Probably try to guilt-trip you about how he never gets enough time with me.”

Jongho chuckled, his chest rumbling against you. “He’d probably make it a whole speech. But honestly,” he said, his tone growing softer, “I don’t care how much he complains. I’ll take every second I can get with you.”

Your heart swelled at his words, and you cupped his face gently, looking into his eyes. “You’re so sweet, you know that?”

He shrugged, his lips twitching into a small, shy smile. “Only for you.”

The moment felt perfect, just the two of you in the glow of the sunset, lost in each other’s presence. The sounds of the forest seemed distant, leaving only the quiet crackling of the flames and the steady rhythm of your breathing together.

As his lips brushed softly against yours, a spark ignited between you. The warmth of his touch deepened the kiss, making your heart race in your chest. His hand, firm and gentle, gripped your waist, pulling you closer as if he couldn’t get enough of you.

You melted into the kiss, your fingers brushing against the back of his neck, feeling the warmth of his skin beneath your fingertips. The world around you seemed to fade away as you became lost in the softness of his lips and the heat of his embrace.

The world outside seemed to vanish as you grew more wrapped up in each other. Jongho’s arms tightened around you, pulling you even closer, and you shifted slightly, your legs wrapping around his waist, instinctively seeking more of him. The kiss deepened, slow and filled with that growing intensity, as your fingers tangled in his hair, tugging him just a little closer.

His hand rested on the small of your back, guiding you gently but firmly, while the other found its way to your waist, his fingers lightly digging into your skin. You responded with equal fervor, your touch tender yet eager, both of you lost in the moment, letting everything else fade into the background.

You both froze, caught off guard by Wooyoung's sudden appearance, and it took a moment to compose yourselves. Jongho quickly stood up, adjusting his shirt, his ears burning with the faintest pink hue as he shot Wooyoung an awkward look. You scrambled to your feet too, laughing nervously.

Wooyoung, ever the playful one, grinned mischievously as he dropped the wood into the fire pit. "We got the wood!" he announced proudly, before his eyes narrowed in on Jongho’s red ears. "Hey... why are your ears pink?" he asked, his voice dripping with teasing suspicion.

Jongho cleared his throat, trying to play it cool. "N-nothing, Wooyoung," he stammered, rubbing the back of his neck. "Just a little hot, that's all."

You bit your lip to suppress your laughter, giving Jongho a teasing nudge. "Yeah, it's a bit warm out here," you added, your voice casual though your cheeks were starting to heat up too.

Seonghwa, who had been quietly watching from a distance, couldn't help but chuckle at the situation. His gaze flickered between you and Jongho, his smile playful as he crossed his arms. "You two are terrible at hiding it," he teased, his tone light but knowing.

Jongho gave him a sheepish smile, looking more embarrassed by the second. "We weren’t doing anything," he mumbled, avoiding eye contact with both Wooyoung and Seonghwa.

You couldn't help but laugh at Wooyoung's dramatic outburst as he rushed to your side, his hands playfully cradling your face. "Ynie! How could you! You betrayed me like that?" he exclaimed, his voice full of mock hurt.

Jongho chuckled softly beside you, his embarrassment slowly fading as he watched the two of you. "Oh, don't act like you weren't expecting this," he teased, nudging you gently.

You giggled, trying to pull away from Wooyoung's barrage of kisses, but he was relentless, peppering your face with exaggerated smooches. "Stop it, Wooyoung! You’re embarrassing me!" you said between laughs, trying to push him off lightly.

Seonghwa, who had been quietly observing the chaos unfold, leaned back with a smile, shaking his head. "You two are ridiculous," he muttered, but there was an affectionate tone in his voice.

Wooyoung, finally giving you a moment to breathe, grinned wide. "Come on, Yn. You know I love you," he said dramatically, as if he hadn't just spent the last few minutes covering your face in kisses.

You rolled your eyes playfully, still smiling. "Yeah, yeah, I know," you replied, your heart light with the warmth of the moment.

You turned to see Yunho strutting toward the firepit with a dramatic flair, his arms raised as if he were making a grand entrance. "Hope you bitches aren't partying without us!" he exclaimed, his voice loud and playful. "You need music, don’t you?"

"Yunho, you’re a bit late," Wooyoung teased, though the excitement in his voice was clear. "We already got the fire going, but yeah, we definitely need your musical expertise."

Yunho grinned, clearly pleased with his entrance. "Well, I had to make sure I looked good before gracing you all with my presence," he said with a wink, making everyone laugh.

Yeosang, who had followed Yunho with a quieter, more reserved entrance, shook his head in amusement. "You didn’t even grab the speaker, did you?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

Yunho froze, a sheepish look creeping onto his face as he patted his pockets. "Uh... I may have forgotten that part," he admitted, his voice a little less confident. "But don’t worry! I’ll just sing!" he added, raising his arms again in dramatic flair.

You all burst into laughter at his antics, the night feeling even more carefree and light-hearted with his infectious energy. Jongho gave Yunho a teasing look, his voice laced with amusement. "Maybe you should leave the music to the professionals."

Yunho shrugged, unbothered. "Well, if you insist on not hearing me sing, guess I’ll go get the speaker."

"Good idea," Seonghwa said, laughing.

Everyone quieted down as Megan and San appeared from the trees, both looking slightly out of breath but with matching grins on their faces. Megan’s expression was more curious than anything, her eyes scanning the group.

"What are we laughing about?" she asked, raising an eyebrow as she looked from one person to the next, clearly amused by the sudden silence.

San, walking a few steps behind her, had a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips. He looked like he might be in a better mood now that the tension from earlier had passed. He gave you a quick glance, his gaze softening when he saw you. “Don’t tell me you guys are already gossiping,” he added, his tone teasing but with a hint of playfulness.

"Of course we are!" Wooyoung chirped, still grinning from earlier. "We’re just talking about how Yunho was going to serenade us with his beautiful singing skills."

Megan smirked, glancing over at Yunho who had just returned with the speaker in hand. “Oh, I’m sure he’s got that covered,” she said, crossing her arms and leaning casually against a tree.

Yunho shot her a mock glare as he set up the speaker, clearly not too thrilled by the mention of his musical abilities. “I was just getting the speaker,” he grumbled, but there was no hiding the smirk on his face.

San chuckled, walking over to you and pulling you a little closer as he dropped down beside you on the log. “Guess I missed out on all the fun, huh?”

"Not too much fun," you teased, leaning into him. "Just some lighthearted teasing about Yunho’s ‘singing career.’"

Megan rolled her eyes at the group. "As long as you don’t start a karaoke session, we’re good," she said, her voice playful but with a hint of sarcasm.

August 22,20:15

જ⁀➴ As Seonghwa began to speak, the atmosphere around the fire grew tense. His voice was low and captivating, drawing everyone’s attention as he weaved a story of mysterious creatures and eerie happenings in the woods. The crackling of the fire seemed to punctuate his words, adding a sense of foreboding.

Wooyoung, ever the jokester, kept his arm wrapped around you, pulling you closer as he glanced around with a teasing smile. "Don’t worry, Yn, I’m here to protect you from the ghosts," he whispered in a playful tone, though the glint of mischief in his eyes suggested he was just as caught up in the eerie story as everyone else.

You rolled your eyes, trying to fight back a grin as you leaned into his side. "I don’t think a ghost’s going to be scared of you, Wooyoung."

Seonghwa’s voice dropped even lower, his eyes scanning each of you in turn as if he were making sure to keep you all on edge. " it's said that since the fire, you can see the spirit of the hag of hackett's quarry."

Megan scoffed, taking the sip of her beer. " what a load of rubbish,"

Seonghwa’s eyes never left Megan as he continued, undeterred by her scoff. “It’s not just a story, Megan. People have disappeared around here. Strange things happen, especially when the full moon rises. Some say the spirit of the hag roams the woods, taking those who wander too far from the camp.”

The fire crackled louder, almost as if to punctuate his words, and the air seemed to grow heavier, colder. Everyone fell quiet for a moment, the only sound being the occasional snap of a branch in the distance, making you tense up for a moment.

Megan rolled her eyes, but her casual demeanor faltered slightly as she took another swig of her beer. “Oh please. Ghosts? Spirits? This isn’t a horror movie, Seonghwa. You’re just trying to freak us out.”

Seonghwa’s smile remained playful, but there was a glint of seriousness in his eyes now. “Maybe. But I’m just telling you what I’ve heard. People say she’s still out there... and that she’s not as forgiving as some think.”

Wooyoung snickered, clearly not buying into the tale. “Yeah, yeah, Seonghwa."

Seonghwa rolled his eyes, " did you guys even look up this place before we came here?"

Everyone shook their head, all but one and that was you. Seonghwa winked at you as he began to nag at the others. " what about the murders that happened here back in 2021?"

The mention of the murders sent a chill through the group. Even Wooyoung, who usually found humor in every situation, fell quiet. The playful atmosphere that had lingered in the air evaporated instantly. All eyes turned to Seonghwa, and then to you, as if they were waiting for you to speak up or explain.

You swallowed, feeling a lump form in your throat. You hadn’t planned on bringing up the murders—there was something deeply unsettling about it. The events from 2021 were still fresh in the minds of the locals, even if they had tried to move past it. But Seonghwa had thrown the question out there, and now you couldn’t avoid it.

"Yeah," you said, your voice quieter than you intended, " the two survivors say it was a werewolf but the cops concluded it being a bear attack. There was a bunch of evidence towards the original owners, Chris hackett as well for the disappearances ."

The fire crackled louder, the only sound breaking the heavy silence that fell over the group after your words. Everyone was frozen for a moment, processing what you had said.

A werewolf? The idea was ridiculous, of course. But the survivors, and the evidence... it was hard to dismiss. And then, of course, the tie to Chris Hackett, the original owner of the camp, who had always been a figure wrapped in mystery.

Seonghwa raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. "A werewolf? That’s... new. I thought you were just joking when you said there were rumors." His voice dropped slightly, no longer teasing but genuinely curious. "So, you think Chris Hackett had something to do with all of this?"

You shrugged slightly, not entirely sure yourself. "It’s all rumors and speculation, but some of the stuff the survivors said made it seem like it was more than just some wild animal. There was talk that the Hackett family had... a connection to the whole thing, like they were involved in something they shouldn’t have been." You trailed off, feeling the eyes of the group on you.

Jongho let out a nervous laugh, trying to lighten the mood. "Well, that’s a fun thought. A werewolf. Great, now I’m not sleeping tonight."

Megan, still sitting off to the side with her drink, shook her head, clearly skeptical. "A werewolf? You guys are seriously buying into this crap?" She scoffed, leaning back on her hands. "Let’s be real. It’s all just exaggerated nonsense. A bear attack is a lot more believable."

Wooyoung, clearly wanting to keep things playful despite the tension, grinned. "Yeah, Megan, but a werewolf sounds so much cooler." He gave you a teasing look.

Megan rolled her eyes as she held mischief in her eyes. " how about we spice things up and play some truth or dare?"

[lumine-no-hikari]

Dear Sephiroth: (a letter to a fictional character, because why not) #396

Though I went to bed early specifically for the purpose of waking up with enough time to eat before work... I still somehow managed to not have enough time to eat before work. I woke up a whole hour before I had to leave, even. I'm not really sure what happened.

I think maybe the combination of waking up at a weird hour and not getting enough hours left me feeling pretty groggy. I think I got ready more slowly than I otherwise would have. But nonetheless, I went to work! I had a nice time toodling around the little bakery space with Tr, putting breads in bags, putting labels on things, and putting cookies on cookie sheets! Unfortunately though, things were so busy that I couldn't get any yummy pictures of snacks for you; I'm sorry about that.

I did get these, though – perks of waking up earlier than usual:

I'm... not sure what possessed me to do this, but... An of the meat department visited today. And... J and I were supposed to meet up at Eggcellent after my shift and after I got supplies to make baked chicken leg quarters. So... suddenly, and for reasons unknown to me, as he was leaving, I awkwardly blurted out an invitation for An to join us.

Even more shocking than the fact that I mustered up whatever it was that made me ask in the first place... was the fact that he said yes.

...I am accustomed to people responding to my invitations with discomfort, rejection, and even occasionally disgust. My expectations were defied, and... this was very delightful. I was very excited! And also very worried. Because I'm always very worried.

So I got the things I could from the grocery, dropped them at home (though there was only asparagus and no chicken legs... I'll have to go elsewhere...), got changed, and asked M to drop me off at Eggcellent!! And then J showed up during his break at work!!! And then An showed up later, and it was very good!!!

We talked about a variety of things!!! An is knowledgeable about a great many subjects, but one of the subjects that he is most knowledgeable about is chemistry!! I have only a very basic understanding of the subject, but he spoke to me about a number of different fascinating (and very dangerous!!) compounds in terms that even I could understand!

I wish you could have seen the way his whole being lit up as he spoke about it!! Oh my goodness, but it was positively radiant!! To witness his joy as he spoke on these things was absolutely lovely!!

We talked for a very long time – I think for over 4 hours! I had an amazing time!! And... what also struck me was that when I spoke, he listened and tried to understand. Offered up relevant lived experiences of his own to try to bridge the gap. And when I mentioned lilac syrup... he went and looked up the compounds that are responsible for its scent... and offered me a better way to extract them than water.

...I was utterly floored. I...

…

Those at work spoke about his quiet kindness. It was marvelous to see it for myself.

...I want to spend more time with this person. His presence and bearing are delightful. But at the same time, I don't want to accidentally be overwhelming or annoying. I'm not really sure what to do. I have memories of asking for people's time, having them feeling obligated to say yes even when they really want to say no, or spending more time with me than they wanted to, and then resenting me and thinking I'm weird for it later.

...I don't want to mess everything up by being clumsy. I don't want to mess everything up by communicating poorly and being misunderstood.

Well in any case. Eggcellent has cream puffs now! I split one with J before An arrived!

It's like... a crispy outer pasty filled with untorched crème brûlée. It was FABULOUS. And then I got the usual suspects after An arrived:

...And now I am home. And there are lots and lots of things on my mind. And once again, I am up too late.

...I can at least fix the “up too late” part. I'll do that right now.

Hey. I love you. And I'm over here hoping you're well. Or... as well as you can be, all things considered.

Please stay safe. Because there's so much for you to look forward to. If I can go and awkwardly make new friends, then certainly you can do it, because you're a lot cooler than I am. If even a random derpasaurus like me can find people who can enjoy me, then certainly you can find people who will enjoy you, as kind and clever and gentle and witty as you are.

Good night. I'll write again tomorrow.

Your friend, Lumine

[vaginadentatas69]

A timeline of events so they’ll stop rattling around in my head:

-Around April, my cat pisses in my bed and I’m too exhausted to handle changing the sheets. I shop around for a different bed to sleep in, and find a friend who has a free bed and doesn’t mind sharing with me. We sleep together, and I go about my business the next day as normal. (I will later find out this friend was actively suicidal and had a plan to kill themself that night, something I didn’t know at the time and had I known I would not have had sex with them)

- I keep up the casual sex with my friend because we both enjoy it and find it mutually beneficial. We talk about having had feelings for each other in the past, but agree that we’re comfortable where we’re at

-Around this time I lose my health insurance and start a long bout of being unmedicated

-In June, I go on a date with a coworker to pride

-In July another friend asks me out and I accept, partially out of interest in a triad with their partner. We all three start dating.

-In August, the original friend gets cold feet about my affections going elsewhere, and wants to formalize our FWB into a relationship. We start dating after I affirm that I’m aromantic and generally make a bad boyfriend by traditional standards of relationships (not very affectionate, bad at keeping commitments, forgetfull of peoples existence, ect)

-Over the course of the relationship, I struggle to set boundaries because of my own baggage. Multiple friends bring up their discomfort with the way my partner is overly-touchy in common areas, including groping me at the dinner table during D&D. I bring this up with my partner while we’re alone and their response basically amounts to “people can tell me themselves if they’re upset”. The behavior does not improve.

-I find it emotionally exhausting to field my partner wanting to see me every single weekend while I’m unmedicated and struggling to keep up with daily maintenance chores while working 40hrs a week. Partner will ask if they can come over or if they’ll “be in my way” while I’m going about my day (because they physically block my way to demand affections before I can be released back to what I was originally doing), and will encourage me to neglect my chores to spend time with them.

-Circumstances put a wheelchair user in my home because he has nowhere else to live. It overcrowds the house, and leaves my girlfriend who’s sharing her bed to sleep on the couch. It’s not ideal for anyone because it was never supposed to be a long-term solution, but we make it work out.

-I break up with the friend who asked me out in July but maintain the relationship with our mutual partner. We agree that we work better together as friends.

-In January my coworker had raw sewage infecting their apartment and comes to stay with me for a couple days, severely overloading the house and jamming a whole stick in the operation of keeping the house livably clean. It’s a disaster for everyone.

-The beginning of March my coworker finally moves out, and takes the wheelchair user with them to a new, sewage-free living situation. This is around the same time I finally get medication again, and also decide to break up with my partner. I fumble the breakup by asking for a break instead because the relationship and the prospect of ending it were driving my anxiety haywire, and blurt out words I meant to edit into a more refined message before we talked about it in person, because I communicate better over text than talking.

-My ex has a hard time with the breakup, something I expected, but goes directly to my DMs seeking consolation and alternatives. I correct myself and assert that I meant to break up, not just ask for a break, because I don’t have the emotional capacity to be the kind of partner they want. Ex continues to bargain in my DMs and asks what they did wrong, and I try to explain as kindly as I can that we were just incompatible. Since these messages I have daily chest-pounding anxiety every time I think about them, and every time they message me.

-Ex uses a shared friend space to mourn the loss of our relationship. I hold my tongue because I expected them to need help from friends getting through this, and encourage our mutual friends to still talk to my ex so they don’t lose an entire social circle for the end of one relationship. Ex continues to stick foot in mouth until our mutual friends say something about it being crass entirely independent of my input. Ex interprets their actions as me telling our mutual friends to stop being friends with my ex.

[felowtravler]

As I exchange prayers for posts I wonder

If my faith is shifting from God to Word

From Divine to Human

And I worry I am inadequate

That my actions are empty

That my life is valueless.

And I realize that I only know how to examine myself for its value.

Because I have always been taught to mark my “worth”. Do I need economics to understand my relationship with Christ? With God? With what is Holy and Good?

I wonder how much is supposed to be part of my faith and how much of this perspective has leeched into the soil of religious tradition. How much belongs to the illegitimate poisons of economy and greed over centuries and millennia?

I want to be devoted, but I don’t want to be devoted out of fear. I need to understand that my productivity is not linked to my validity as a human. Even my productivity in the context of my divine relationship with God. They care about more than the numbers of prayers. More than the exact percentages of my time spent on what is deemed “worthy” and “holy” by human minds.

I am learning that They are concerned with more than scales. More than technicalities and institutions and anything else. Because that was the point, wasn’t it? To erase the technicalities?

God, let me be enough.

Let us cease our measurements of ability and productivity and efficiency.

Work is a joy, but it is not our god.

You are our God.

God, please. This perspective is corrosive to our spirits.

God, let us be free.

[finelinevogue]

could you write something about the readers parents not liking her and harry comforts her please

ok this is going to be quite sad and angsty so hold on tight!

Y/N was crying in her room. Again.

This was turning out to be a daily occurrence now. Wake up. Get shouted at. Go to school. Learn how to dissect a frog and master how to write the perfect essay. Come home. Get shouted at. Sleep. The weekends, she didn’t get all the good in-between stuff, it was just waking up to be shouted at.

For what? Well not even Y/N could answer that.

Her parents had despised her since the day she was born, or at least Y/N presumed. She was never allowed to go out without permission from her parents. She was not allowed to eat certain foods, because “she didn’t need to be any fatter”. She wasn’t supposed to wear anything inappropriate. She wasn’t allowed relationships. Although that last one, she cheated on.

Harry had been Y/Ns best friend all through high-school, until they reached college and Harry couldn’t wait any longer to make her officially his. He wanted her so badly. She was his best friend but he craved for more. It took Y/N a lot of persuading, but it was the best thing she’d ever done for herself. Harry was kind to her. He treated her with respect and love - something she’d never had from her parents.

Having a relationship whilst being instructed you weren’t allowed one, made things very difficult. Harry could only see Y/N when she allowed him to. After finishing chores she would tell her parents she was going to grab food or cleaning supplies from the grocery store, only to go and spend a few hours with Harry in his treehouse. She would always come back with a bag full of shopping and made sure she covered the hickeys on her neck well. It would be hard to explain their origin of those marks to her parents.

“Y/N!”

Her mum had never provided her with a nickname, only ever calling her by her proper name. Harry gave her nicknames and pet names galore; baby, honey, sweetheart, lovie, darling and petal to name but a few.

You had learnt that shouting back was “never okay” so you left your bedroom and walked down the stairs to find your mum, who’d just shouted for you.

“Yes mum?” You timidly asked, standing at the door with your fingers fiddling with each other.

Your mum turned and scoffed at the sight of you. “Oh Jesus Y/N! You look horrible. That dress is disgusting.” It just so happened to be your favourite dress - a simple, long - as necessary - white dress with pretty flowers embroidered in baby pink and blue across the skirt. It made you feel like a weightless princess. “Don’t you agree?” Your mum asked your dad.

“Oh yes. Too much fat showing.” Your dad lovingly commented back.

You looked down at yourself, thinking that maybe it was showing a bit too much skin and therefore showing off your fat. Harry always told you that you were completely beautiful - an angel - but it was hard to believe on days like this. You crossed your arms over your chest in discomfort. Speaking back would only make things worse, so you took the verbal abuse as it came.

“Now,” your mum sat up a bit more, “i’m finding it really hard to look at you right now, Y/N, because i’m hurt by you.” Tears, fake of course, were forming in her eyes.

“W-why?”

“Mrs Tucker said she saw you and a young boy kissing outside the grocery store the other night - the same night you said you were going to pick up cleaning supplies.” Your heart dropped to your feet, because it was true. You had been with Harry. You’d never thought about anyone catching you, mainly because you thought no one cared about you enough. Mrs Tucker does like a good gossip though, dammit.

“A boy Y/N!” Your dad shouted in reiteration, making you flinch to the noise.

“Now I told Mrs Tucker that was being silly. That lady will do anything for a natter.” You stilled, thinking you were off the hook, but you should ‘t have been so quick to let your guard down. “Until your dad and I followed you to the grocery store the next night, although we never reached the store did we Y/N? No we were outside a house instead.”

Oh no. You are so dead.

“A boys house, Y/N? You weren’t raised to be a whore.” Your dad spat at you, turning away from you as if the sight of you was disgusting.

“God knows who he is or what you’re doing with him, but it stops. Right now, today.” Your mum gritted through her teeth, obviously trying to keep her calm.

“But—”

“No!” You mum screamed. “I will not be seen as the mother of a daughter who sleeps with random boys, instead of studying and working hard for her family!”

This was so 1800s. This was your life.

You had actual tears forming in your eyes now, unlike those your mum bared. It was so silly that this was making you cry but you were so upset that they thought they could control your life this way. It was devastating.

“I-I.. I love him though.” You choked out between tiny sobs, “I love him.” You whispered - that having been the first time you’d told someone else other than Harry. It actually felt good. Relieving. To declare your love for Harry made the world feel possible.

“Love? You no nothing about love.” You dad rolled his eyes and you couldn’t help but laugh at his words.

“The only reason I don’t know about love is because I never got it from either of you.” You started to fight back. This was a battle you were determined to win. No more hiding behind a timid figure. You were willing to stand up for yourself - no one else was going to.

“Because there’s nothing to love about you!”

You didn’t recall who this came from, all you remember is your heart dropping below the floor and fleeing from the room. Fleeing from the house. Fleeing from a family who didn’t see you as anything but a human being. You weren’t a daughter to them. You were nothing. Your heart called elsewhere. It yearned for the person closest to you.

It wasn’t until you were met with Harry’s front door that you realised where you were and what had happened.

“Oh Y/N! Hi lov—” Anne greeted you, until she saw that you were crying heavily and your chest was rising rapidly. “Harry!” She shouted into the house, leaving you a brief moment to collapse onto the floor in front of you. You didn’t care for the pain that ran through your knees from the impact - only the pain in your heart from the break it had just suffered.

“Woah angel, hey, hey.” Harry was by your side within seconds, completely incasing his body around you. Your head laid buried against his warm chest and his arms hugged you close to him like never before. His smell was one of home. He encompassed you and made you feel safe and loved. You weren’t alone.

“I-i’m unloveable.”

“But I love you.” Harry whispered against your hair, warm air softly kissing your skin.

“Yes, but—”

“No, “but”. I love you, Y/N L/N, I really fucking do. You’re my other half, baby.” He kissed your forehead a few times, knowing that’s your second favourite place to be kissed. “Your parents don’t deserve you, they really don’t. They’re cruel and cold-hearted, but that doesn’t mean I am. I think you’re beautiful, clever and kind. I think you’re everything i could ever want. And I know that you can’t be unloveable, because i’m, so deeply, in love with you.”

Harry continued to rock you, as your cried into his chest. You’d never believed in yourself before meeting him and you never thought that he could be so genuine towards you. He couldn’t care less what your parents think, as long as he helped remind you that you’re none of what they think of you. You’re so much better than mindless words. You make you you, not your parents. Harry’s helped you discover who you are and who you want to be. Even though your miles from becoming who you want to be, and you have your setbacks, you’re proud of how far you’ve come.

You cried against his chest, until the pain softened and your could regain your breath again. You unburied yourself from his hold and looked up to him with love in your eyes.

“There’s my beautiful girl, looking like a princess in you pretty dress.” He smiled down at you, even though you knew you had puffy eyes, red cheeks and a snotty nose. He loved you and all your perfect imperfections.

“Thank you, H.” You said with a wobble to your lips, really meaning your words.

“I know, baby.”

“I really do love you too.” You made sure he knew. His heart fluttered a little faster over your words. He leaned down to kiss you gently, minding all the salty water and grimy snot that laid on your face. His kiss sent butterflies swarming through your stomach and a new type of red appeared on your cheeks.

“Waffles anyone?” Anne asked as she stood at the door, the smells of sweet honey and cream only hitting you now. It was that moment that you realised your heart had never belonged with your parents, your heart belonged here, with Harry. Forever and always.

[elizabeethan]

The Swan and her Handler

Emma Swan was cursed, and the only way to break it is with True Love's Kiss. Try breaking a curse with True Love's Kiss when you're a damn swan.

Yes, it's true, I've written a CS AU based on Walnut the Crane, a crane who fell in love with her handler. I'm ashamed at how idiotic this is. It’s by far the dumbest thing I've ever written in all my life. It’s nothing more than crack written in about an hour, un-betaed and barely edited. Sorry, and you’re welcome.

Rated T for language

~2000 words

Read my other stuff

Read on Ao3

These damn idiots can’t get anything right. It was bad enough when Emma showed up on their doorstep with perfectly clear care instructions that were completely ignored, but now they keep trying to get her to reproduce as if she’s some kind of zoo animal. 

  Of course, given her current living situation, it does make at least a tiny bit of sense. 

  Ever since the curse, Emma has been stuck in a wildlife refuge and has been unable to get any of her stupid caretakers to figure out how to help her. She knows exactly what she needs, but unfortunately, no one here speaks swan and she can’t exactly hold a pen. Her care instructions were translated upon her transformation, so the one thing that could have helped her now looks like chicken-- er, swan scratch. 

  “She needs a mate,” one of the jack asses points out. “She’ll probably want to mate for life.”

  True, she thinks, although, not with any of the stinky fluff balls you have sent my way.  

  First it was Neal. He tried to mate with her, so she killed him. Last week, they put Walsh in her enclosure, and she pecked at him violently until they took pity on him and sent him to the medical unit. 

  Although today seems different, because her newest caretaker has shown up, and she realizes that he just might be exactly what she’s been looking for. 

Emma Swan, unfortunately very appropriately named, requires a mate who can break her curse, True Loves Kiss the only thing that can bring her back to her truest form as a human adult woman. And when the new dark haired, stunning eyed veterinarian comes strutting into her enclosure, she hurries towards him to get a closer look at his name tag. 

  He jumps away, making some comment about her being fiery , and she blushes, squawking at him as she tries to get closer. Killian , it reads, and if she had lips and not a bill, she would smile. 

  “We think she’s depressed,” the stupid one with the big eyes says. “She’s killed every mate we’ve tried to pair her with.” 

  Good, she thinks. I must have done more damage on Walsh than I initially thought.  

  “You’re just misunderstood, aren’t you, love?” the angel-man asks, making her squawk in agreement. She thinks she could make this quick, this man obviously understanding her horrible twist of fate, so she lunges for him once more, trying hard to kiss his hand and hoping beyond hope that it will transform her back into the woman she's supposed to be. No more feathers, she prays. 

  He exclaims again, jumping and complaining of his hand hurting as she pecks him, so she rolls her eyes and squawks angrily. “Alright, darling,” he says with his hands up, his smooth, accented voice making her heart flutter inside her chest. Her breast? She knows very little about swan anatomy, despite having been turned into one. “Perhaps she’s stressed about her environment. Have you tried giving her a dark, quiet place to nest?” 

  “Not yet,” the dumbass admits. 

  The handsome one, Killian, a name she could get used to rolling off of her tongue, steps away from her, so she hurriedly follows. “Perhaps here in this corner will do.” 

  I would love to spend time in a dark corner with you, she thinks, giving the man what she hopes is a salacious smirk. She watches appreciatively as he sits down, crossing his legs as he starts to fiddle with some sticks as if she would be interested in them. Rather than helping him to make a nest out of the twigs and leaves, she plops herself right in his lap, nestling herself into his crossed legs and gazing up at his beautiful features, earning a smile from him. 

  “There we are, love,” he says happily, clearly surprised that she chose to plant herself upon him, although he shouldn't be. Just look at him, for god’s sake. “Comfortable?” 

  She squawks loudly, making him cringe, then fluffs her feathers in an attempt to gussy herself up for him. If she’s going to earn True Love’s Kiss from this perfect specimen, she’s going to have to work for it. The man chuckles as he looks down at her-- is he gazing? -- and lifts his hand slowly, placing a finger gently upon the top of her head and petting back down her neck, sending a chill down her spine, at least she thinks it’s her spine. She pushes her head towards him again, demanding more attention in an effort to get him to fall for her. It shouldn’t take long; she’s very enchanting. 

  “She’s never been this calm,” the dumb one says, making her snap her head towards him with a glare, shouting at him in disapproval. Killian shushes her soothingly, his finger softly stroking along her stupid feathers once more and making her shut her eyes. 

  “She just needed a bit of attention, it seems.” 

  “We’d best be careful,” someone else says, the bookworm who always thinks she knows everything about swan science. Of course, she probably knows more than Swan Emma. “We wouldn’t want her to imprint on you ,” she seems to joke. 

  “That’s quite alright, isn’t it love?” he asks her, essentially giving her permission to fall in love with this handsome bastard. 

  He comes by a few times a week for the next several months, each time sitting with her in her tiny, dirty nest and not seeming to care that his pants get soiled. She’s always careful to do her business elsewhere, making sure that her prince can sit in comfort when he arrives. She gets angry with him when he brings someone new, a sickly looking male named Graham who she assures is not welcome, so Killian gives up trying to get her to mate with someone. For some reason, they're concerned about her procreating, but she can assure everyone that she will not be giving birth to a damn swan baby while she’s under this curse. 

  One day, when Killian visits near the end of his shift, he’s finally alone, leaving behind the dumb one and the book worm and giving her all of the attention she desires as his strong hand softly pets along her soft feathers. She can’t wait to get rid of these stupid feathers. 

  “You���re quite funny,” he remarks as the sun starts to set. “Unlike any swan I’ve ever met.”

  She squawks at him-- I’m not a damn swan-- and he smiles. “Quire the personality. It always seems like you’re trying to communicate with me.” 

  Yes, you stupid handsome man, that’s exactly right! She tries to nod, lifting and dropping her head in quick succession and making the beauty laugh. She nudges her head against his hand in demand of more pets. 

  “What is it you want me to know, darling?” he asks gently, his voice soft and soothing and deep. 

  She groans, a sound that comes out like a pained cry, and his face shifts. “Are you alright, love?” 

  In pure frustration, Emma drops her head against the man’s chest, likely assaulting him with how badly she smells like bird shit, and he chuckles again, letting his hand run along her feathers some more. “There, there. I know life as a swan must be difficult. All you seem to want is for someone to listen.” 

  She looks up, hoping that her expression conveys her complete and utter irritation at the fact that he’s literally hitting the nail on the head and yet he has no idea. 

  “Such a personality,” he says again. “I’ve got to head home now, love. I’m looking forward to having Chinese for dinner. Perhaps I'll bring you an eggroll tomorrow, or is that insensitive?” 

  She squawks, half because she’s laughing, and half because she would quite literally kill another potential mate for an eggroll. Wanting to beg him not to go, she gives him her best sad face through her inability to emote, and nestles her head against his palm one more time. 

  “I’ll sneak you one, love,” he laughs, and as he does, he finally, finally , leans down towards her, and plants his stupid, dumb, lucious lips upon the top of her stinky bird head. 

  Cramps start to run through her whole stupid bird body, the same ones she felt when she was cursed on Halloween decades ago. He stands, not seeming to notice her pain and discomfort until he’s a few steps away, and he turns back around. “Swan, are you alright?” he asks, as if she could answer, and she shouts back at him wordlessly. 

  She praises whatever gods might be listening as she feels things start to change, her feathers shedding as her skin is exposed to the chilly fall air. The webbing between her toes retracts, her legs turning flesh colored rather than that horrifying orange. Her bill turns back into her nose and mouth, preparing her to smooch her savior rather than peck at him. Finally, she’s back!

  “Bloody fucking hell,” Killian breathes as he stares on, Emma transforming back into her old self, laying in a heap on the ground as she brushes off the dirt and twigs and leaves. 

  “You did it,” she praises before clearing her throat, raw from misuse after all these years. She grins at him as she’s been wanting to since they met, and is met with a horrified, shocked look on his face. His jaw is gaping, his eyes wide as they catch the light of the setting sun. “I knew you would.” 

  “What the fuck?” 

  “You broke the curse,” she says happily, standing up and exposing her nude form to him, cursing the lack of feathers although she vowed she never would. Immediately, he removes his jacket, despite his shock still clearly running through him, and hands it to her. 

  “I did what now?”

  “I was cursed. Why do you think I was such a miserable swan?” 

  He’s looking around, his mouth snapping shut and dropping open in succession as he tries to process the fact that there was a swan in the enclosure just a second ago, and now there’s a frankly beautiful, naked woman standing before him. “You were cursed,” he says doubtfully. 

  “Yes, I was. An evil witch cursed me on Halloween decades ago and I've been stuck in that infernal bird form ever since. All I needed was True Love’s Kiss to break it, but imaging trying to fall in love with someone as a damn bird.” 

  “So you… you fell in love… with me…?” 

  “Obviously,” she smiles, taking a step towards him on shaky legs, tripping and falling into his waiting arms as he catches her, careful not to grope her, although she isn’t sure she would mind. “And you broke the curse, so… Do I have to tell you what that means?”

  “I-- I’m having a lot of trouble processing the fact that I've evidently been in love with a swan for months.” 

  “Well, my name is Emma Swan, so you can be in love with a Swan for the rest of your life, if you’d like.” 

  “Emma,” he murmurs, staring into her eyes and smiling when he seems to recognize her. She’s never been able to see herself in the mirror, because the book worm was worried she would attack it, but based on the way he’s staring, she would guess that the evil witch let her keep her eyes. “Do you know it just happens to be Halloween tonight?”

  “Kismet,” she says softly, gazing up at him. He lifts his hand like he did while she was planted in his lap, and she’s finally able to feel his calloused finger along the skin of her cheek, then of her neck, just as he had done before. 

  “Aye,” he agrees. “The spirit of the holiday does make this whole thing a bit easier to accept.” 

  “Yeah,” she says dismissively. “Now take me home. I was promised an eggroll and I haven't eaten anything but grass and stale bread in almost thirty years.”

~~~~

Tagging (with apologies):

@courtorderedcake @kmomof4 @stahlop @klynn-stormz @laschatzi @emelizabeth88 @lfh1226-linda @kday426 @elisethewritingbeast @timeless-love-story @captain-emmajones @gingerpolyglot @ebcaver @ilovemesomekillianjones @teamhook @superchocovian @itsfabianadocarmo @tiganasummertree @gingerchangeling @jrob64 @onceratheart18 @xhookswenchx @winterbaby89 @swampmedusa @ultraluckycatnd @dancingnancyy @love-with-you-i-have-everything @shireness-says @snowbellewells @hollyethecurious @ouatpost @daxx04 @the-darkdragonfly @donteattheappleshook @therooksshiningknight @eeteeaytay @xsajx @itsfridaysomewhere @alexa-fangirl-forever @jonesfandomfanatic @wefoundloveunderthelight @qualitycoffeethings @rapunzelsghosts @spaceconveyor @badcats-andmice @batana54 @sailtoafarawayland @deckerstarblanche @zaharadessert @xarandomdreamx @pirateprincessofpizza @captainswan21 @hookedmom @lostintheskyfaraway @undercaffinatednightmare @strangestarlighttree

[bostonbashers]

mercs when they get jealous. ~

Hello Can I request headcanons of the mercs and how they act when jealous? If you can’t do all of them, support class is okay

Jealousy headcanons for the mercs when they see their s/o getting hit on (like full on swinging their arm over their shoulder, all touchy) Welcome to the fandom :)

ohhhh i love to see my boys jealous! we love to see it. please enjoy! ❤️

-

Scout:

he’s petulant about the whole thing. he’s childish to the core and doesn’t handle jealousy very well despite his constant confident attitude.

scout glares at the person angrily and tries to be intimidating by insulting them, but honestly, he looks like an angry puppy or a kid wanting their candy back, so the person doesn’t take him seriously.

whines about it loudly the whole day and literally doesn’t shut the fuck up. he’s super cranky, it’s almost irritable, and never admits he’s jealous until you push it out of him. honestly, just give the poor boy a kiss so he can calm the fuck down.

Soldier:

doesn’t like the feeling. will not deal with the feeling. gets to work right away with no hesitation to get rid of whatever is bothering him.

will call out the person, using such colorful language and terms you weren’t aware he knew about and you’d watch as he absolutely obliterated the person with just his words alone. it’s honestly more than enough to scare them off and he radiates with pride once they do.

if it weren’t for his s/o being around to stop him, jane would’ve gladly snapped the persons neck or absolutely tortured them with his yelling.

Pyro:

you’ve fucked up my guy, big time. i don’t know what you were thinking, but you obviously don’t value your life.

they don’t quite understand what’s happening at first but immediately picks up their s/o’s discomfort, quickly angering them. pyro deems them as a threat to their s/o and mumbles angrily while bringing a hatchet out, ready to cut the person limb by limb. no one is allowed to make their other half feel that way and they won’t let it happen.

the person will be running in no time due to pyros behavior and once they’re gone for sure, they turn around and embrace their s/o tightly with a happy squeal as if they didn’t just threaten someone moments ago. they also caress their hair comfortingly just in case the situation has affected them.

Demoman:

he’s really insecure initially so the whole thing just makes it a lot worse than it’s supposed to be. demo already has the mindset that he doesn’t deserve his other half and crumbles just seeing the scene play out in front of them.

if he’s drunk, he’ll just tell the person off with a glower and scare them away with insults or his usual, crazy behavior. if he’s sober, he’ll handle the situation a lot better, simply excusing you both from the person with a glare and scowl. he’ll keep a close eye on them just in case.

either way, he’ll become unusually clingy with his s/o, often latching onto them like he hasn’t seen them in years. demos already clingy as he is but once someone deems as a threat to take his s/o away, he’s basically all over his other half in hopes to get the message across to the person and to let his s/o know that he loves them more than anyone.

Heavy:

barely gets jealous because he trusts that his s/o will do the right thing, even when he’s not around. all in all, he just doesn’t trust the other person. following that, he will watch the other person if they try anything funny. that’s when he’ll step in.

will show signs of discomfort over jealousy, often just standing on the side, hoping his s/o will get the sign that he wants to leave. if they don’t, he’ll gently pull their hand and speak; “we must go.” even if they protest, he will pull them elsewhere.

he’s one of the mercs who handles his jealousy/discomfort maturely and takes his s/o somewhere private to speak about his feelings; “misha did not like the way they looked at (y/n).” once they comfort him, he will feel relieved and brush off the situation. he’s just really protective and wants to make sure that everyone knows they’re taken.

Medic:

part 2 of do you even value your life, my good man. this man will literally fucking saw you in half and steal your organs if you cross his line.

he’s quiet at first, observing the situation with the biggest scowl ever as the person speaks to his s/o so daringly. youd think he’s handling it well due to his calmness, but little do you know, he already has something planned. his s/o watches as the person turns white upon looking behind them and runs off with barely a goodbye, leaving them absolutely bewildered.

“what was that all about?” they questioned with a raised brow, staring at the person who continued to run off. medic chuckled and pushed his amputator back into his coat with a menacing smile. “i am not so sure myself, liebe.”

Sniper:

he doesn’t like jealousy and he definitely doesn’t know how to handle it well. doesnt tell his s/o he’s jealous and denies it even though it was deathly obvious. depending the intensity of the situation, he can handle it a little more maturely and some days, well..

if it’s a simpler situation, such as them just casually flirting with his s/o, he’ll just growl under his breath as he shoots sharp glares at the person. his glare becomes so aggressive that the person just ultimately feels uncomfortable and walks away to avoid his stare.

if they don’t walk away and decide to pull bold moves on his s/o, he’ll step in with an angered expression and shoo them away himself. “oi! scram, ya damn weasel! take your business elsewhere!” he’ll let out a string of curses as they run away, not realizing the position he put himself in. once he does realize his s/o chuckling at his behavior, he’ll blush furiously and deny the fact that he was jealous or just walk away, holding his s/o’s hand with his hat tilted down.

Engineer:

he’ll try to smile through it, not wanting to lose his cool in front his s/o and greet the person formally as their boyfriend. he’ll really emphasize it; “howdy, my name is dell. i see you’ve already met my lovely partner.”

but if they take it a notch too far, such as swinging an arm around their shoulder, his nice guy facade ultimately breaks and he won’t hesitate to show it, quietly threatening them; “now ya keep your filthy hands off my sweetheart or things are gonna get real ugly.”

if he does lose his cool somehow, he’ll drag his s/o elsewhere and apologize to them for his behavior and explain how he felt about the situation. he’ll make it up to them by bringing them to dinner or just simply spending time together.

Spy:

doesn’t show he is one bit and keeps himself composed during the whole ordeal. he’ll throw the occasional insult or comeback here and there with a scowl, but just watch on the sides for the most part.

sometimes he’ll become very affectionate whenever someone has their eye on them and makes sure that he sends the message that they’re definitely not available; a kiss on the neck, an occasional hug from behind, intertwined fingers is more than enough.

and if the person doesn’t get the message or outright chooses to disregard it? well, i hope they enjoy a knife dug deep into their back the next morning.

[lovelylusts]

Stop the World || Alex Turner || Request

Pairing: Post-TBHC!Alex x Virgin!Reader

Genre: fluff, smut

Warnings: first time/loss of virginity, vaginal fingering, cute lil petnames like doll, handjob, protected vaginal sex (wrap it before you tap it plz), where can i find a man like this?

Word Count: 2.9k

A/N: pre-rona times obviously. thank you for your patience, my dear anon! i hope this was worth the wait!

In which your first sleepover with your boyfriend of 7 months leads to your first time.

There were no words in the English language that could really describe your past few months with Alex. All of your boyfriends before him were terrible - self-centered, only ever talked about themselves, cheaters - but Alex was so different from them that you were nearly convinced he wasn’t human. He was always a gentleman, always ensuring that he would respect whatever boundaries you set in place - whether it be discomfort with PDA, or having to tell him you were not yet ready to take the “next step” in your relationship, he was always respectful towards you.

And that brings you to your first time spending the night at Alex’s house, roughly seven months into dating. To say you were nervous would be an understatement - you knew that you were ready for whatever may happen once you two were under the covers of his queen-sized bed, but you couldn’t help but feel an overwhelming amount of butterflies arising in your stomach as you neared his house, your overnight bag sitting in the passenger seat beside you and you gripped your steering wheel. You took the familiar turn into the driveway to the gate that led to the high-class neighbourhood in which he lived, filled with white two-story houses that were a bit too close together for your liking, pressing the four-digit code into the keypad before driving into his neighbourhood towards his house. As the distance between his house and your car closed, the butterflies in your stomach fluttered more and more rapidly, until you parked your car in his driveway and your chest felt heavy.

It’s just one night, you thought to yourself. Everything will be ok.

You dragged yourself out of the driver’s seat of your car, walking around to gather your bag of belongings from the passenger’s side before trekking towards his front door. Your hands were shaking lightly, your head feeling a bit fuzzy, and you began to fear that your nerves would ruin your quality time with your beloved boyfriend. But when you saw him open the front door, presumably after hearing your car door be slammed shut, you felt your nerves begin to melt away - not all of them, but you definitely felt a lot better than you did during your car ride.

“Hey, baby,” he greeted as he neared you to take your bag from you, his long hair tied in a messy bun with a few loose hairs flowing in the cool breeze. “How was your day?”

You were relieved that he wasn’t bringing up any of the pressures you felt regarding your night with him, and that he was going about conversation in his regular manner - whether or not he could sense your tenseness, you weren’t sure, but you still appreciated the normalcy. You carried on the conversation as he led you inside his house, which you always thought was a bit too big for just one person, and smiled as he turned to face you and bring you into his arms. You were enveloped in his warmth and distinct cinnamon-like scent, nestling your face closer to him as if you were scared of losing grasp on this feeling.

He always made you feel so warm inside.

Your afternoon together went as per usual, with him listening to your gossip about co-workers, and you listening to new demos and song ideas that he had come up with in the gaps between visits. But as the night drew closer and closer, and you stood behind him with your arms wrapped around his torso as he prepared dinner, you felt your nerves come back. You prayed that he couldn’t sense the sudden tenseness in your body, or the mild shaking of your hands.

“What’s wrong, love? You feel tense,” he said, concern laced in his tone of voice.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” you lied in response, hoping that he wouldn’t ask any further questions.

“You sure?” he asked, as if he could see right through your lie. He moved over to dump the pasta into the strainer that sat in the sink before turning to look at you as he spoke, leaning against the counter. “Seriously, what’s going on? Are you nervous to spend the night with me?”

“I…” You lowered your head in shame, staring at your minor scuffed boots. “Yeah. I am.”

“Love, you know I won’t do anything you’re not comfortable with, right? We don’t have to do anything like that if you don’t want to.”

“The thing is that I want to. I really want to. But I’m just scared, because, y’know, it’ll be my first time doing any of that stuff, and I don’t wanna mess it up,” you admitted, unable to look at your boyfriend as you feared his reaction to what you deemed an overreaction.

“It’s fine to be nervous. If you’re really ready to take that step, then I promise I’ll be gentle,” he said. He turned away from you to divide the pasta into two bowls and cover them with meat sauce before placing them at the table - again, the table was quite big for somebody who lived alone, but you figured it was because he had company over quite often. You two tried to move past the awkward conversation from the kitchen, instead going over your respective work affairs with laughter and smiles.

By the time the sun had completely set, you were both immersed in watching a random sci-fi movie that he picked from his extensive movie collection, though your mind was noticeably elsewhere, your eyes on the screen, though you were not processing a single thing that happened. You were weighing your options, going through each pro and each con of sleeping with Alex that night: you could either wait and just put off your nerves, or you could do it now and not have to worry about it in the future.

“Alex, love, I think I want to get it over with,” you said. You could feel him tense up beside you, though he quickly relaxed himself so as to not worry you.

“Are you 100% sure?” he asked. “I don’t want you to feel pressured.”

You swallowed, trying to breath slowly and deeply to calm your racing heart. “Yes. I want to do it.”

He reached forward to grab the tv remote from the coffee table, the screen going black at the push of a button, before he stood up and reached out his hand to assist you in standing beside him so he could walk with you towards his bedroom.

The room followed a neutral theme with paintings depicting a variety of different autumnal nature scenes, and a few fake plants littered the window sill. He had a king-sized bed with very simple beige bedding, a few throw pillows centered on the mattress decorated with various stitched patterns in varying colors to stand out against the monochromatic setting surrounding. Unsure as to what you were supposed to do, you turned to face him as he approached you and wrapped his arms around your waist, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

“Are you sure you’re ready?” he asked, his already thick Sheffield accent growing thicker and his voice had become a bit deeper, softer.

“I am,” you nodded, looking deep into his dark brown eyes, seeing that his pupils had blown out as your eye contact continued on, before you felt him walking you backwards towards the bed until your knees hit the mattress, causing you to fall backwards onto the thick comforter. 

You watched as he unbuttoned his off-white button up, untucking it from his chocolate brown trousers and tossing it off somewhere, followed by the plain white wife beater he wore beneath it. You assumed you should follow after him and began to remove your own clothes, unbuttoning your blouse and throwing it to the side, followed by your pants.

“You’re so beautiful, doll,” he awed, a small smirk forming on his lips as he dropped his trousers to his ankles before stepping out of them. You could see that he was hard beneath his black boxers, and evidently he was quite big, which made you feel a bit nervous, but you calmed yourself by reminding yourself that he would take care of you. “I promise I’ll be careful, ok?”

“Ok,” you sighed out, your voice a bit shaky as he climbed on top of your nearly bare figure, pressing a kiss to your lips as he trailed his right hand down to play with the hem of your underwear right next to your heat. You felt the familiar tingle of arousal between your thighs as his fingers neared your sex, until you felt the pads of his fingers rubbing against your sensitive clit over your black underwear. You whined, bucking your hips against his hand and begging for him to further. “Please, I want your fingers. Please, Alex.”

Alex smirked against your lips, his hand pushing past the top hem of your panties until he was met with your soaking core, running his fingers through your arousal before bringing them back up to your clit to begin rubbing small circles over it. He kissed your neck softly as he listened intently to your sweet moans, taking in how your hips slightly rocked against his hand and your chest heaved. You felt a finger prodding at your tight entrance before slowly pushing in, your walls contracting at the odd intrusion - it was only something you had experienced on your own, but this was the first time somebody else had touched you this way. You never wanted to forget the feeling of his long finger thrusting against the soft spot within your walls. Ever.

“How does that feel?” he asked in a husky voice.

“S-so good,” you moaned out. “M-more. Another finger. Please, Alex.”

A second finger slid into your tight hole, a slight burn accompanying the stretch, but it wasn’t something you were completely unfamiliar with due to your own exploration through late nights on your own. His thumb still toyed with your clit as he thrusted his middle and ring finger against the internal sweet spot, leaving open-mouthed kisses, and every so often a hickey, on the skin of your jaw, neck, and collar.

You finally felt comfortable moving your own hand towards his body, a moment of confusion evident in the way he faltered for a bit before he realized what your intentions were, letting out a low groan as he felt your hand wrap around his hard member.

The two of you lied there, wrapped in each other’s warmth as you worked in tandem to prepare for the main event. You both momentarily forgot that you would be losing your virginity that night, though you were shortly reminded when a third finger plunged into you. Your thighs were shaking, the familiar knot growing in your stomach (notable quicker than when you were on your own.

“Alex… I think I’m gonna cum,” you whisper, unable to raise your voice in fears of being embarrassingly loud.

“Come on, sweetheart,” he coaxed. “Cum around my fingers.”

He groaned as he felt your walls tighten around his fingers, the motions of your hand around his cock pausing as you cried out his name, shockwaves of pleasure coursing through your body as you came harder than ever before.

“You look so beautiful when you cum,” he said, pulling his hand out of your underwear and removing your own hand from his. “It’s not too late to change your mind.”

“I want you, Alex. I’m ready, I promise,” you said, still breathless from your orgasm. Although you were weak, you were still able to remove your bra and underwear; now your bare body was on full display as he worked on removing his own underwear, his large cock springing out from the cloth confines. From jerking him off, you could already tell he was well endowed, but now that you could actually see the member, your worries came back.

Is he gonna fit? How badly is this gonna hurt? Should I still go through with this?

“Doll,” he calls out, interrupting your train of thought. “We don’t have to do this.”

“I-I want to. I’m just nervous it’ll hurt,” you admit, leaning on your elbows and looking up at him, trying not to be distracted by his bare state.

“I prepped you, but if you’re nervous, I can do some more,” he suggested as he walked over the the nightstand beside you, opening the singular drawer from the dark wooden table, grabbing a silver packet - obviously a condom - from the disorganized drawer, before looking at you with concern.

“No need. I’m just nervous. Were you nervous your first time?” you asked with curiosity.

“Of course I was. But, I was also a horny teenager who was desperate to knock boots, so… Are you sure?”

You nodded quickly, watching as he tore the condom wrapper over and placed the piece of latex over his member before he climbed on top of you, holding himself up on his forearms. His member was resting against your lower abdomen, his lips pressing soft kisses to your next as he tried to soothe your worries. Before you knew it, he was grabbing his cock and lining it up with your entrance, asking you once again if you were ready, before proceeding to push forward. You cringed at the intrusion, a whimper leaving your swollen lips upon feeling the burning stretch of your walls as he pushed his hips closer towards your own, his thick length filling the tight virgin canal.

“You doin’ ok, doll?” he asked through a grunt. It wasn’t necessarily an unfamiliar sensation for him; however, it had been a while since he had been intimate with somebody on this level, and he had not been with a virgin in quite some time. Your walls felt so warm around him, so tight, and in that moment he felt so lucky that he had the high amounts of self-control that he did, because the last thing he wanted to do was hurt you.

“Y-yeah,” you whisper with a tremble, and you could feel the sting of tears forming in your eyes; you attempted to blink them away, but they only hazed your vision and trickled down your temples onto the Egyptian cotton pillowcase. “Keep going.”

He nodded at your wish, kissing you gently to distract from the ever growing pain between your thighs, whispering to you to keep breathing and stopping every few pushes to make sure you were reading to continue. He eventually bottomed out, and you felt as if you were able to finally breathe normally, melting into his touch as he brought a hand to your face to wipe the tears off of your flushed face.

“You’re doing good,” he praised. “Let me know when you want me to move, ok?” He ran a large hand through your hair, kissing you all over your face as you calmed down.

“I’m ready, Alex. Make love to me,” you pleaded to him, grabbing his biceps to brace yourself for the upcoming main. He slowly began to pull his hips away from yours, steadily dragging his cock out of your sopping heat before he pushed forward again at a matching pace, intently watching your reactions to make sure he wasn’t hurting you too badly. The pain was unlike anything you had experienced before, but you welcomed it with open arms and the knowledge that it would soon fade into something more desirable. So you waited. You waited with tears until the pain subsided, whimpers and sobs of pain derailing into breathy moans and cries of his name as you held him so closely that he felt as if you feared letting him go.

You felt as if you had reached the ultimate euphoria as you felt him thrust into you, though you were certain he was not going as hard as he normally would in fear of harming you - he was always so gentle with you, and he wanted to take care of you now more than ever so as to not make your first time unpleasurable.

He felt as if you two were made for each other in every sense of the word - it was the way your hands fit perfectly together, the way your lips felt against his, the way your laughter made him feel as if his heart was going to grow so large it’d explode, the way your small sounds of pleasure filled his ears as he filled you in a way he hadn’t filled anyone else.

The familiar knot was slowly tying itself in your core as he began to speed up his thrusts, the burn had subsided completely and now you felt as if you were weightless and floating as he pleasured you. Then his fingers had once again made their way between your bodies to make contact with your clit, rubbing circles in the same manner as before. Many soft sounds filled the room, such as his low grunts, and your quiet whimpers, and the bed creaking ever-so-slightly as he rocked his body against yours.

“I’m close,” you whisper against his skin as you wrapped your legs around his lower torso, the knot now too noticeable to ignore. Your orgasm washed over you almost instantaneously, your body shaking as you came so hard that you swore you saw inverted stars against the white-hot flashes behind your closed eyes, a loud cry of his name leaving your hips as he overstimulated you.

“Fuck,” he moaned out, the constricting of your walls bringing him closer to the edge; and before he knew it, he too was finishing, filling the condom with his hot seed. He rolled off of you, collapsing on the bed beside you as he came down from the intense orgasm. “Well… how was that?” he asked after the brief moment of silence.

“It was… amazing. Thank you, Alex.”

“Why are you thanking me?”

“Because I can.”

[punkpoemprose]

A Convenient Arrangement Part 10

Universe: Canonverse Arranged Marriage AU Rating:T Length: 8805 Words A/N: Long chapter-- distance makes the heart grow fonder, fluffy date time, questions answered, and Kristoff definitely finds his wife attractive.

[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3] [Part 4] [Part 5] [Part 6] [Part 7] [Part 8] [Part 9]

The week was a long one. They both would agree when or if asked, but if it wasn’t related to festival plans, no one was asking either one of them anything. When they rose in the morning, they scarcely had time to greet each other in the hall or over breakfast before knocks at the door would pull them each their own way.

Kristoff spent most of his days with Kai, learning all that he could about royal manners, the history of the kingdom, peerage, and the other pertinent information and skills required of a prince consort. He’d be the first to admit it, most of it went over his head. Sometimes when Kai spoke to him he thought that he understood the words well enough individually, but when they were strung together as they were, they may as well have been in French.  

He really had no real interest in knowing whether it was more appropriate to bow or be bowed to when he met other members of the aristocracy which he was now technically a part of. He was doing his best to absorb what he could for Anna’s sake. He hated the idea that his lack of knowledge would reflect poorly on her because at the end of the day, even barely seeing her for a week, he cared deeply for her. He knew that part of making their marriage work was putting the effort in to understand her world.

When the lessons ended for the day, he would sometimes, but not always, have dinner with her. It felt like a small blessing to just be in her space since the announcement of the festival celebrating their engagement. He thought that it might be prudent to spend more time with her given that they were meant to at least appear a happy and doting couple to the public, but that detail seemed to be moot to whoever had decided to plan their days apart.

He supposed that he would seem in love with her regardless because he did have a fondness for her. He was beginning to understand the meaning of “distance makes the heart grow fonder” with each passing day. Every time they managed to dine together, he could often barely calm the racing of his heart while watching her enter the dining room, watching her sit across from him, close enough to look, but not to touch.

She’d ask him about what he had done each day and would share, in return, the plans she’d been making with her sister and the staff for the festival. He’d watch her carefully as they dined, noting the exhaustion in her posture that kept them from discussing much of anything past that. It was usually his only interaction with her each day, and it was always entirely too short.

Every night since the start of their overscheduled days, he’d slept in his room alone. Anna was usually needed elsewhere after dinner, attending to decisions and meetings that had been pushed late into the night. Sometimes she was being stolen for a fitting for her festival gown, other times decoration choices, and at least once she’d been taken for a chocolate tasting. That at least seemed to be the least objectionable way for her to spend her evenings of the lot.  Each night he’d waited for her to return in vain, and each night he’d eventually headed to bed alone.

It had become strangely lonely to climb into his bed at the end of each day, knowing that she would do the same on the opposite side of their shared door. He’d slept alone for his entire life, but after only a few nights with Anna in his arms, he hated the way it felt to lay in the large empty bed without her. Some nights he would stay awake a short while, expecting to hear her knock or laying there wondering if she wanted him to knock. He’d never heard her knock though, he’d just hear the opening of her door, the soft thuds of drawers and doors as she prepared for bed, and then silence.

From across the room, the small chest he stored his things in would taunt him with the memory of something she’d said just a few days before. A crystal sat amongst his belongings, untouched, waiting for him to work up the courage to remove it from its wrappings.

It would make things so much simpler.

Or infinitely more complicated.

He’d fall asleep like that, wondering whether he should knock, whether he should bring her the gem, whether he should just let things be, or whether he should just go spend the night in the stables with Sven and his worries.

At least then I’d have someone to talk to. I don’t even care that he doesn’t speak back.

He slept in his bed each night, and when he woke each morning, he’d feel like he’d barely slept. By the end of the week, he could see the bags under his eyes when he shaved. Only two weeks living in the lap of luxury and it was already exacting a price from him.

At this rate I’ll be grey in a month.

When the knock came again, he sighed, cleaned the remaining soap from his face and shouted for the knocker to enter. He assumed that Kai was arriving with another of his famously packed schedules. While Kristoff rather liked the man, he’d begun to dread his morning arrival. He’d lived his entire life unscheduled, never bothering to pay much attention to the calendar or clock, and he wasn’t particularly thrilled by the concept of time being his master instead of he being the master of it.

The door swung open behind him with only a light sound of protest from the hinges that were still getting used to the room having an occupant. It had been unoccupied for many years, and the door seemed to have enjoyed its time off as even oiling it hadn’t stopped its protest. The soft click of its closure came immediately after, and Kristoff awaited the address from Kai that didn’t come.

There was, instead, a soft clicking of heeled shoes on the wood floor behind him as he wiped the water from his face. He didn’t think much of it or course, not until he heard another familiar voice that made his heart race.

“Kristoff?”

Anna’s voice startled him. Of course, they usually had a quick morning conversation over breakfast, but she hadn’t been in his room, nor he in hers, in a week. He turned to see her, red faced and staring at his chest.

She looked tired as well and there was a sort of tearfulness to her eye that made him nervous. She clearly hadn’t been sleeping well, and he wondered if she had been upset by something. He could admit to being a little more emotional than usual when he was tired, so he could relate, but he couldn’t quite read what was going on with Anna as she stared at him.

He tossed the towel aside. His hair, which he had been about to comb, was still wet and he could feel rivulets of water dripping down his back and over his chest. Despite the warmth of the sun through his window, he felt cool, hairs standing up on his arms as he closed the space between them in long strides.

As he approached, she was still staring at him, her face flushed, and her lips parted slightly as if she were about to say something. She said nothing though, and he started to understand her expression a bit better. There was exhaustion there of course, but it was only serving to exacerbate the absolute frazzled countenance and posture she was currently performing.

It made him relax a bit. She didn’t look upset per say and he did know that his wife was not a morning person. He also had the sneaking suspicion that there was a small tinge of embarrassment in her eye and that it could explain the flush on her cheeks.

She blinked after a moment and looked up from his chest to meet his eye. He started to get the sense from as quickly as she looked away and to the floor that he understood.

Embarrassment.

It was a feeling that he had become remarkably familiar with in the last couple weeks. He’d spent years of his life half or completely naked in the woods, not knowing what it was like to worry about how he looked or sounded, but the castle was quickly making him aware of just how embarrassed he should be about, well, everything.

It was a feeling that he wasn’t particularly fond of in any way shape or form, but it was something he was getting used to. There was something at least a little bit reassuring in being comfortable with discomfort, knowing it was part of the process. Kai had been kind enough to show him that in their lessons, telling him that he was in the perfect position to always act as if he’d done nothing wrong even when he slipped up, and that if he didn’t react it didn’t give anyone else the room to do so either.

“I’m…” she started to stretch her hand out, reaching for him like she was going to press her palm into his chest.

He didn’t back away or shift from her reach, but her hand fell anyway.

“Sorry. I’m… I’m fine. I just wasn’t expecting you to be… well that is… I didn’t know you were still getting ready. I’ll, oh gosh. I’ll leave.”

It all clicked into place then, and Kristoff couldn’t help but feel oddly amused. He felt a smile creeping to his face, completely unbidden, for the first time in a long while. He shook his head.

“No, you’re fine. I just finished up. I just need to put a shirt on and comb my hair. Did you need something?”

She seemed to collect herself somewhat as he responded. He watched as she nodded in return, still flushing, but focusing a bit more on making eye contact with him despite it.

“I thought that we could, um, skip the meetings today? I had Kai clear your schedule. I hope you don’t mind, but I thought it would be nice to just get out for the day.”

Her voice went soft when she added, quietly, “I’ve missed you.”

He felt like she’d just handed him the most perfect gift he’d ever received. There was nothing he could imagine ever wanting more than spending time away from the castle with her. There was no greater gift than a break from the frustrating monotony of lessons with the built-in bonus of having her at his side.

“I’ve missed you too.”

He turned from her for a moment, crossing the room back to his dressing table. It was a motion with a twofold intention, allowing her to flush again without the scrutiny of his eye, and allowing him to dress and get ready as soon as possible. He could all but feel her relax behind him once his shirt was on, and it almost made him chuckle.

He remembered her sleeping against his bare chest, her face smushed against him as she slept in the most ridiculous and endearing way possible. It was a happy and sad memory, still fresh in his thoughts from how recent it had been. He’d enjoyed feeling her against him, but still remembered what it had felt like to have her shaking, crying into his shirt just before they slept. He pondered why seeing him without a shirt in the light of day was somehow more blush-worthy but decided that he’d rather not dig too deep into it. He’d be happy if they saw a day where she wasn’t embarrassed around him at all. She had no reason to be.

“You look nice,” she said after a short time.

He’d felt her eyes on him as he’d finished readying himself for the day. He walked over to her, tying his sash around his waist as he went.

He hadn’t been convinced by Kai to change his style of dress, and he had been grateful that the man hadn’t really tried to convince him to do so at all. As a result of this, he was told that he had more clothes coming to him than he’d ever owned before, and that they would be in finer fabrics than he’d ever ben about to afford. He was grateful though that they would mostly mimic the styles he’d always worn, and that they would fit. He couldn’t ask for a better outcome to his tailoring situation than that.

He would have locked himself in the palace’s dungeon before he would have worn all the frills and layers of other men of station. He understood the need for a good suit but would never quite be on board with lace. He evidently had a set of formalwear arriving soon, and while he wasn’t particularly excited about it, he had been promised that his daily wear would not be nearly so embellished and that what he had coming was downright innocuous compared to the season’s fashions. Kai had called it “timeless” and he hoped that what he meant by that was “simple”.

Anna seemed cautious when she walked to his side after offering the compliment. Kristoff held his breath when she reached out a hand and gently smoothed a wrinkle in the front of his shirt with her palm.

Having her hands on him always felt good. There was no denying the fact that he enjoyed her attentions, and he couldn’t help but grin when her touch lingered a little longer than strictly necessary. He’d been longing to see her for days, to hold her hand, to even stand near her side.

“Thank you,” he said quietly after he allowed himself to breathe again.

He turned his attention to what she wore. It was perhaps the simplest dress he’d ever seen her wear, save of course for her nightgowns. It was dark green with some small embroidered details around the neck. It looked a bit like little flowers and birds, though he didn’t dare dip his head down towards her neck to investigate further. He didn’t think he could keep himself from pressing a kiss to her neck if he did. Even without further inspection, the fabric seemed light, like if he touched her waist while she wore it, she might be able to feel the roughness of his fingers through it.

“You look beautiful.”

She grinned at the compliment and he couldn’t help but feel grateful that she was happy to hear such a thing from him of all people.

“Thank you.”

He watched as she laced her fingers together behind her back and fidgeted a bit. Her nervousness came through when she spoke again.

“Since we’re going out I didn’t want to wear anything that would draw too much attention. I’m glad you still like it.”

He almost laughed, but held the reaction in. He wondered how she could ever be nervous about her appearance, as if she weren’t the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen. As if he wouldn’t have thought that she was gorgeous even if they weren’t married. As if every man with eyes in a mile wouldn’t notice her even if she wore rags.

“I’ve told you before Anna, you’ll still turn heads. It has nothing to do with what you wear.”

He meant it, and he was rewarded by a shy smile and the unlacing of her fingers from each other, only to slip between his. The way his heart raced from her simply holding his hand made his face red.

Does she know how easily I’d fall apart for her?

He had to chase the thought away. He had to focus on the moment they were in before he said something he shouldn’t, something they weren’t ready for yet.

“So,” he asked, “What are we doing today?”

She shrugged a bit, then started to pull him toward the door to the hallway with her. He didn’t resist, letting himself be tugged along at her mercy.

“I’ll let you know when I figure it out.”

Every time she smiled, with every moment he spent holding her hand, he fell in love a bit deeper.

***

Anna’s morning had, thus far, not gone according to plan. Of course, there had barely been a plan to begin with, but blushing like a schoolgirl over seeing her husband shirtless and having her sister find out about her intentions to leave the castle weren’t exactly indicative of what it was that she’d had in mind.

As a consequence of the latter unplanned component of her day, she now found herself and her fortunately-and-unfortunately-fully-dressed husband being followed by a royal guard in full uniform. She felt like she was thirteen, being chaperoned on a date instead of being an adult woman out on a walk with her husband.

It’s not like I’m planning to snog him in the middle of the market.

Then a more judicious thought.

Of course, I didn’t plan a lot of things that have been happening lately.

She shook it off and instead focused on her recollection of her conversation with her sister.

“There’s still some unrest amongst the people Anna, what would you do if someone decided to take their anxiety out on you?”

She’d wanted to respond in several ways, most of which were incredibly sarcastic, but the forerunners had been each unique in their ability to elicit a response from her sister.

I would survive. You’ve taken your anxieties out on me twice.

From Elsa: Sadness.

I would fight them.

From Elsa: Long suffering exhaustion.

I would let my incredibly big and strong husband take care of it for me while I ogle him from the sidelines because while I love to fight my own battles, I also think it would be nice to watch him fight someone for me so I could watch those biceps flex.

Embarrassment on both of their parts.

Anna had, in the last week of barely seeing him but at meals and in passing, taken a particular interest in her husband’s physique. The morning’s events were not even close to the first time she’d looked at him and thought about what it would be like to be in his arms again, to have his large hands spanning her waist, lifting her off her feet and up closer to him.

So close that we could kiss.

She’d been longing for his touch since the first night she’d slept along. All week, once she managed to slip into a fitful sleep, she’d dreamt of him kissing her. She could still remember how real it had felt in her sleep, not that she knew what it would really feel like. They’d kissed at their wedding, her first and only “real” kiss, but the sort of deep, attentive kiss she’d received from him in her dream was something she’d never experienced.

I want to. I desperately want to.

They were in the residential district of the city. The cobbles of the path were fairly worn, but even below her feet. There were places here and there that she was already mentally noting needed improvement. A few lamps had cracked glass that likely made them unreliable on breezy evenings, some places in the road were low and held water that didn’t drain off easily. She would tell Elsa and ensure that a more formal investigation of the city and national infrastructure was eventually made. Personally, she thought that such a thing might be the better way to improve public opinion of the monarchy than a grand display of power and wealth, but she couldn’t pretend that her wedding hadn’t improved things.

Every now and then as they walked, she’d catch someone looking at her twice. Most people were away from home, working or learning at school, but a few people were home or in the area. Older people and young mothers mostly looked at her with recognition, and she did her best to give them a shy smile without giving the indication that she was available to stop and chat. It was a delicate dance. She liked to speak with her people, of course, but she truly just wanted to spend some time with her husband. One tagalong is already bad enough.

She’d wanted to go to the market. She’d thought it might be enjoyable to see the wares she’d only watched traded from above, but her unwanted guard had insisted that “her royal highness and her consort refrain from entering any highly trafficked and indefensible zones” which had, essentially made a trip to the market impossible unless she wanted a full guard detail.

That would certainly inspire confidence in the monarchy. Hello peasants, we don’t trust you to not murder our Princess, don’t mind the platoon of men you may or may not know who are, at any moment, prepared to stab you!

She’d all but felt Kristoff rolling his eyes in response to the guard’s words. It was like she sensed the expression he was making at her side before she’d even caught him actually making it.

“It’s just a little further… I think,” she said a bit nervously, squeezing Kristoff’s arm as they walked down the street together.

There were a few specialty shops that weren’t housed in the market district, and while she hadn’t visited any of them in many years, she thought that she’d recalled the location of the shop she was after. Thought, of course was the appropriate term given that nothing looked exactly as it had the last time she’d been in the area. The years had a funny way of changing things, and she hadn’t been to the shop without her mother which was indicative of the time that had passed since she’d seen it last.

Kristoff didn’t seem to mind the somewhat aimless walking they were doing. Anna suspected that if she told him the locations she desired to reach, he’d have an answer for her, but she liked keeping it a secret. It gave some small crumb of fun back to the adventure which had been intended to be more daring before their escort had been assigned.

“I bet you know these streets better than I do,” she said after a few more moments of walking, giving voice to her thoughts.

Mostly she was just endeavoring to break the silence between them. He’d seemed rather thrilled to leave the castle, but he’d been quiet since they left. She had a feeling that their unwelcome follower was making him as uncomfortable as it was making her annoyed.

“Not so much in these side streets,” he replied.

He pulled her ever so slightly right as they walked, helping her to avoid a puddle she hadn’t noticed until he was steering her around it. It was sweet, she thought, that he was saving her shoes from getting damp. She also didn’t mind how easily he’d pulled her even closer to his side with the gesture, putting her even more in his space.

“I do know the market fairly well though. When I sell ice I tend to stay over that way.”

Anna nodded and gave him an appreciative squeeze for the assistance with the puddle. He was absolutely the helpful sort, but somehow she doubted that he advertised himself that way. She got the distinct sense in his interactions with the guards, the staff, and anyone else she’d seen him forced to interact with, that he’d rather be seen as gruff and unapproachable. He wasn’t overly so with her, but she sometimes felt that he acted like a grump when in reality he just felt awkward or uncomfortable.

She tended to talk a lot when she felt the same way. It was something she knew about herself, that she dealt with anxiety with exuberance and self-deprecation. She was trying to get a better handle on it, and now with Kristoff at her side she found that it was easier to lean on him for support when she was feeling out of control. She hoped that he’d find he could do the same with her.

When she noticed the shop she was looking for nestled between two houses to their left she excitedly tugged Kristoff in return. She hadn’t been there in a great many years, but the old building still looked the way she remembered it as a child.

Oaken’s Thrifted Goods, Antiques and Consignments.

She’d traveled there every now and again with her mother who, despite being the Queen of their nation, was practical and more interested in the old than the new. They’d always looked for things there that reminded her mother of her youth, little things that were made by hand that reminded Anna that while few knew it, her mother had been common as well.

She sometimes wished that she had asked more questions of her mother, that she had learned the story of how she’d met her father and how they’d come to be wed. All Anna did know was that Iduna wasn’t born in Arendelle and that she was not royal by blood. There were some records somewhere in the archives about her being given a duchy somewhere in the direction of the hinterlands, and with the suddenness that she’d shown up in her father’s public life, she supposed that everyone must have assumed that she was born noble and had simply spent her whole life in the hills.

Maybe, she thought, Kristoff wouldn’t feel so out of place if he knew that he was not the first consort to Arendelle royalty to have been born common. She wondered if he would take comfort in the fact that the nation’s Queen hadn’t had an ounce of royal blood and that it had been purposeful. Marrying for love was not common for aristocracy, but her parents had done it.

“Oaken’s?”

Kristoff seemed confused, staring at the sign for a moment as if in disbelief.

“Yes?”

Anna stopped short of the door, feeling as confused as he was, her confusion having everything to do with his confusion and nothing to do with the shop before them. She didn’t think that the shop had ever moved. It might have changed hands in the years since she’d been there last, the owner had been an older man so she supposed it was possible that the shop was now run by someone who was not an Oaken. She wondered if that was the point of confusion for him, maybe he thought that the business had been renamed or something.

“There’s an Oaken who owns a trading post up in the mountains. It couldn’t be the same guy, right?”

Anna shrugged; she really couldn’t say for sure. She was glad to understand why he was confused, and she couldn’t help but try to recall whether or not the last name was terribly common.

“Because uh…” he looked back toward the guard, and then back at Anna seeming a little sheepish.

He ducked down and whispered in her ear, “The Oaken I know, he and I occasionally get into arguments over pricing. We’ve mostly worked it out, but I thought you should know in case we walk in and I get the stink eye.”

Anna tried to hold back her laugh, but to no avail.

He gave her an exasperated look when she walked them through the door, turning back to tell the guard he wasn’t needed indoors.

“Yet.”

***

Kristoff was grateful to know that the Oaken inside the shop was not the Oaken he’d recently had some “pricing debates” with. They rarely really argued, but he’d felt on one or two occasions that his arguments with Oaken brought the usually even-tempered man to the point of anger. They’d always sorted it out of course, but he was still waiting for the day that the man would throw him out on his rear over a debate.

No, this Oaken was much older, possibly the father of the man he knew, or some other elderly relative given the similarity of their faces and builds. He seemed similarly even tempered thus far, but perhaps a bit less enthusiastic. He’d been pleasant with Anna of course, recognizing her as the crown Princess and evidently a former customer, but he’d also told them in no unspecific terms that he was too old to help them and that if they had any questions, they should come to him because he was not going to them.

“Isn’t it so neat in here?”

Kristoff couldn’t help but smile as he saw Anna taking in the many items packed into the small building. They were arranged neatly, everything from old steamer trunks and hand-crafted furniture to piles of old keys and shelves of dusty books.

Anna grinned at all of it, openly gazing about the space like it was full of gold instead of second and third hand items. He thought that it was charming in a way, that the practical used items of the people who lived in her kingdom were of interest to her.

“My mother and I used to spend hours here when I was a little girl. She taught me how to sew using old tablecloths we bought here… not that I’m particularly good at it, but I can put a button back on if I need to.”

He couldn’t help but find her excitement at least a little bit contagious as he gazed upon the shelves and tables of items with her. There was something about the well-worn tools and broken in chairs in the space that spoke to him in a way that the fancy spotless trappings of the castle just couldn’t. He’d always been practical, and the items here were nothing if not sensible.

“It’s strange for me to try to imagine a Queen here,” he said, hoping that she took no offense to his saying so.

He was happy when he noticed Anna smiling fondly.

“My mom wasn’t really the royal type… not that she didn’t act like a Queen, because she did. She just never saw the point in waste, and she liked simple things. I have a shawl of hers that she had since she was a girl, a pretty handmade thing that she mended herself. That’s how I usually remember her; warm and pragmatic.”

“I’d probably describe my mom the same way,” he said quietly, “I’m sorry I didn’t get to meet yours.”

Anna looked sad for a moment, but Kristoff could tell that it wasn’t his fault. The space brought it out of her as much as it brought her joy. He knew it was her first time here without her, and he was glad that they were talking about it. He was glad that she’d brought him somewhere so important to her.

“I’m sorry too,” she said before taking a deep breath and adding, “she would have liked you.”

He wasn’t sure what to say to that, so he just gave her what he hoped came off as an appreciative smile and squeezed her hand.

When she squeezed back and leaned into this side, for the first time in a week, he felt like he could truly relax.

“I thought we’d look for some things for your room?”

There was a bit of trepidation in her voice that he registered as nerves coming through. He wondered how long they would be nervous when they spoke to each other, how often they’d be walking on glass with one another. He already trusted her, and he desperately wanted to show himself to be worthy of her trust in return. Testing the already tenuous bonds of their fledgling relationship was understandably nerve wracking.

“I don’t really need much… I brought most of my things with me.”

He didn’t want to shut her down. He didn’t want to say no when she clearly wanted to do something with him. He just was unused to the idea of buying things for himself. He usually only bought what he couldn’t make or find himself

She’s trying.

“I… I know, it’s just… I know the room isn’t probably the way you want it to be. I remember your cabin being a lot cozier and I thought that maybe we could find some things here to make it a little more like that. Elsa suggested we get a decorator for you to consult with, but I kind of thought you’d hate that so…”

She let out a sort of nervous laugh and he felt his heart racing in his chest.

She’s been thinking about this. She’s been thinking about you.

“I… I’m not used to buying things… or having things bought for me. It just feels strange I suppose.”

Anna’s fingers slipped from his then, and the loss of contact was immediately distressing until she felt them tentatively shifting up his arm and wrapping around his bicep. She stepped in front of him and gave him a soft smile before pulling him in the direction of the nearby bookshelves that separated the front and back of the shop, forming an archway between them.

Once they had slipped past the shelves, she pulled him into a smaller alcove in the shop filled from floor to ceiling in small, labeled drawers. According to their labels they held everything from furniture hardware to saltshakers and children’s toys. She leaned into him once they were in the space, hiding them away in the already empty shop save for its owner.

“Please,” she said softly.

She wrapped her arms around him and looked up at him. He thought that she looked a bit determined despite the hesitancy she’d shown a few minutes before.

“I know this is all new and strange to you, but I really just… I want to do something for you. Please? I wasn’t even able to get you a wedding gift, and frankly if you’re worried about money… I guess no one told you about my dowry?”

He blinked for a moment, trying to focus on what she was saying when all he could think about was that she was hugging him. A week away from her touch, and only being somewhat familiar with the feeling of having her wrapped around him was taking its toll on his mind. He was already frazzled, just by the way it felt to have her against him again.

He wrapped his arms around her in return and noticed the way she melted into him a little more as he did so. He did his best to catalogue all the ways in which she was making him feel, and he flushed a bit when he realized that the embrace, combined with the doe eyed gaze she was giving him, was causing a very specific sort of reaction in him that he’d thus far been managing in her presence.

His wife was beautiful, he was getting a very good view of her freckled decolletage, and he was very much a man. He could feel his face going red again.

“I’m sorry,” he said a bit nervously realizing he hadn’t really heard what she’d said, “What?”

“I want to get you some things as a wedding gift, but if you’d prefer… I guess no one told you about the dowry, but there’s…” she cleared her throat, seeming embarrassed to be discussing money with him, “there’s a lot there. I think you have an account with the treasury, maybe Kai was going to tell you later, but anyway… you can afford to purchase things on your own if you want… I just, I really wanted to do something for you today. I wanted to do something with you.”

He almost asked about the dowry, the heart attack that revelation gave him being enough to distract him from the line his thoughts had been running in, but he could tell the discussion was making Anna uncomfortable. He didn’t exactly feel like telling her in this fraught moment that he wanted no bride price from her, and that certainly didn’t need the sort of exorbitant amount of money she was implying.

“If you would enjoy it,” he said after a moment, clearing his throat when the words came out a bit muddled, “I’m sure we could find something. You’re right, the room isn’t exactly cozy.”

I can’t tell her that I prefer her room over mine.

She smiled then and leaned her head into his chest. He felt the tension leaving both of their bodies when he pulled her closer.

“Thank you,” she whispered.

He pressed a kiss into her hair and reveled in the soft sound she made in return. He longed for the day he’d kiss her properly.

***

Anna had almost felt bad relegating their guard to purchase handling duty.

Almost.

Of course, it hadn’t been his fault that he’d been sent to mettle in her day plans, but she was still a little miffed that he’d prevented her from taking Kristoff into the market to pick out some new things for his room. She knew that it was because Elsa had been the one to insist upon his guarding, but Anna wished that sometimes people were more amenable to bending her sister’s rules. She certainly was herself.

It didn’t matter now though, not when she felt Kristoff’s hand at her back, supporting her on the ladder they’d requested be brought up to his room so that Anna could hang the sage green curtains they’d managed to find at the shop.

He’d laughed at her glee over finding them, and she’d felt genuinely happy to be laughed at. She liked that her enthusiasm brought him joy, and truly she hadn’t felt like she was being laughed at by him. The better term would be that he was laughing with her, and she thought that if it was something that they could do together every day, their marriage would be exactly what she’d always wanted.

All I’ve ever wanted was for someone to love me.

She saw it in his eye when he helped her off the ladder. The joy of sharing the domesticity of the day with her, the spark of something that she might dare call like if not love. She held the joy it brought her in her heart, locked it up tight so that nothing that might occur in the next week leading up to the festival might steal it from her.

“You’re right,” he said warmly, “They do make it feel less…”

“Formal,” she finished.

The curtains were simple, a plain sage green with some small vines at the very top and bottom embroidered in white thread. Had she been any good at it, or had she had the patience for it, she liked to think that it would have been the sort of thing she would have made for him.  

He nodded, and she felt his hands linger at her waist even when she was standing back on solid ground.

They’d shared lunch when they’d returned, eating it at the table in his room that was now decorated with a small candle holder she’d found that reminded them both of Sven’s antlers.

“When they bring the high back chairs up from storage, I think that’ll help too. We can have them put by the fireplace.”

She’d insisted that since he hadn’t allowed her to purchase any furniture for him, even used, that he select some furniture from the castle storage to improve the comfort of the space. He had selected a few items from a list she’d sent for while they were dining and she was rather pleased by his choices.

Making his room more comfortable for him was something that she was taking great enjoyment from.

That I’m also making it more comfortable for me is just a bonus.

She couldn’t really lie to herself. It was, in part, by design that she had insisted on two chairs instead of one, and that she’d encouraged him to pick a lovely quilt from the shop that made her think of the one they’d been wrapped in at his cabin. She couldn’t deny that she was thinking ahead to a time where perhaps she’d spend more time in his space, though she could hardly dare to think about a time beyond that, a time where his things would blend together with hers and where they would spend every night together. A time where the door between their rooms wouldn’t be needed.

Her heart raced every time the thought crossed her mind.

He lifted up the last remaining item they had to find a home for, a small wooden trinket box that he’d taken an interest in early on in their search. It had been amongst a pile of tools but had not been large enough to hold any of them. It was simple, smaller than her jewelry boxes, but roomy enough to fit a few small objects. The top had a line of trees burned into it but was the only decoration on the piece.

“I think I know what belongs in here,” he said after a few moments of looking it over.

I think I do too.

Her heart raced when he crossed the room to his chest and kneeled to the floor to open it. She’d been hoping, quietly, almost secretively to even herself, that he would want to show her the crystals again.

What did it mean? Why did he nearly kiss me after I told him about the glow?

***

The crystals were wrapped loosely in scraps of fabric, protecting their rough natural edges from chipping and breaking. He could feel the soft hum of magic inside each of them, even through the cloth. His parents had taught him how to feel it, encouraging him to focus on it and to guide the magic into his hands. He would never be able to control it as they did. Magic didn’t run in his blood like it did theirs, but as Anna approached behind him, he made the choice to show her, at least as much as he could, the importance of the gems.

He patted the floor beside him and was grateful when she didn’t hesitate to sit at his side in front of the box. He watched as she quickly settled herself to his side, her knees bumping into his gently as she sat.

“I think they deserve a special home,” he said, gesturing to the box he’d already set on his other side.

One deserves a very special home. It belongs with you.

The thought didn’t exactly catch him off guard as much as it slipped through the cracks of the wall he’d been holding it behind. He couldn’t admit to himself that he had a great deal of hope about what Anna had said before about the crystal, because to admit that would be to invite disappointment when the outcome was decidedly not what he was hoping for.

It doesn’t matter. It doesn’t matter because I love her. If it’s not by fate it’s at least by choice.

He took some small comfort in it as he unwrapped the gems and lifted out the yellow one first.

“This one,” he said, focusing on the way it felt warm in his palm, encouraging it to give off a light glow, “is a fire crystal. They come in a few shades of red and orange and yellow. The trolls can actually start fires with them, but I can get it to warm up a little if I really focus on it.”

After a moment of quiet between them he heard her gasp as the crystal began to glow a pale yellow. He couldn’t help but grin when he handed it to her and let her watch the glow fade. He noticed the way she hovered a hand above the stone feeling the slight warmth radiate off of it from above as she felt it in her palm. She seemed thoroughly impressed and he couldn’t help but feel a bit proud to have been able to show it to her.

He handed her the small box and watched as she carefully set the stone inside. Once she was finished, he pulled out the next crystal, the blue one. He’d never had quite as much luck getting an effect with it, but he could make it glow.

“This one is a water crystal. The trolls can get them to make rain, but I’ve only ever been able to get a little condensation on the outside and I’m not convinced it wasn’t just sweat from my hand.”

When she laughed he felt light.

It’s easy to feel hopeful when everything she does makes my heart race.

The gem let off a light glow, but little more. She seemed impressed nevertheless and when he handed it to her, she focused on it in her palm for a short while before setting it too into the box with great care.

He had to remind himself to breathe watching her look from the box to him. When her eye met his, a strange knowingness there, he felt fear leave him. They were so close that he could easily kiss her, just by leaning in. He let the cloth fall away from the last crystal and forced himself to inhale deeply, breaking their eye contact to turn his attention to the pale pink gem.

She’s my wife. I love her.

“This one,” he began, lifting it from the fabric with his other hand to show her better, “This one is special. Every man in my family receives one when they reach adulthood, and they guard it closely. Its magic is special because it’s tied to the heart. I never really listened to everything my father told me about it because I never thought I’d have a reason to show it to anyone, but…”

She was looking at him intently, her eyes meeting his and then glancing to his lips. He felt his heart racing.

“Why doesn’t it glow when you hold it?” she asked, breaking the long silence where he’d let his speech drop off.

He gave her a soft, almost rueful smile. She felt like there was a joke there that she didn’t understand.

“Because it’s mine,” he started, then after a moment’s thought, continued, “It’s confusing and hard to explain if you weren’t raised knowing about it, but essentially the trolls think that everyone has a fated partner, a second half. You know they believe in fate, we discussed it when you met them, but this is the ultimate show of that belief. The only person that is supposed to make your gem glow is your soulmate.”

She flushed and he longed to give her a better reason to do so than a crystal. He wanted to scoop her up into his arms and tell her that it didn’t matter whether or not it glowed when she touched it. He wanted to kiss her and show her how little it mattered to him, but it would be a lie.

It does matter. I love her. I want her to see that I will only ever love her.

He knew she’d be crushed if it didn’t.

He watched as she extended her hand to him slowly. There was a shine to her eye that he understood as nerves. She’d told him before that the gem had glowed when she’d touched it, but he had thought about all the things it could have been, and was sure that she was worried about it as well.

A trick of the light, a fluke, a misremembrance from a day where she’d been given shock after shock.

“You don’t have to.”

She gave him a soft smile in return.

“I think we both know that I do.”

There was a finality in the way she cautiously uncurled her fingers, insisting that he deposit the gem in her hand. He wondered if she truly believed what she had seen before, or if the nerves he had seen in her were from the concern that it wouldn’t react to her touch.

He dropped it into her palm and felt the racing of his heart reach a crescendo.

Pink.

***

Anna felt her heart racing as he handed her the gem. She could see in his eyes that this meant even more than he was saying.

Soulmates. The glowing means we’re soulmates.

She’d spent her whole life wanting to be wanted, wanting to be someone’s everything. She tried to shake off her concerns that she’d been seeing things before when she’d made the gem glow in his cabin, but it was hard to believe that she had always been meant for someone, that she and Kristoff had been fated to be together.

She saw the shakiness of his normally steady hand as he held the gem over her palm, and she had to remind herself to breathe in the moments before he released it into her hand.

She gasped when the cold gem hit her skin and immediately sent a bright pink glow across her palm.

Fate.

Soulmates.

She’d already known. Something inside her had known since their wedding night, even before the trolls, that with Kristoff was where she was meant to be. The confirmation had her joyous.

He wrapped his hand over hers when he recognized the light, squeezing the gem between their palms and doing nothing to dampen the glow. If anything, Anna thought that it might be glowing even more under the combined touch of their skin. She didn’t have long to notice whether it was true or not though, because her view was quickly blocked by Kristoff entering her space.

Her eyes fluttered shut as he wrapped his free arm around her, pulling her to him enthusiastically. She let an appreciative, borderline needy, sound slip from her mouth and was rewarded by the press of his lips to hers.

It was a remarkably different kiss to the one they’d shared at their wedding. It wasn’t quick, it wasn’t chaste, and it wasn’t required.

She took the hand that was not entwined with his and let it slip up to his hair naturally. She’d wanted to slide her fingers through his hair for well over a week, and now it felt instinctive to do so. Her hand squeezed a bit tighter against his as she deepened the kiss, feeling the way he drew her in even closer as she did so.

She didn’t try to tame the soft sounds of pleasure that slipped from her mouth and into his, she didn’t fight it when he kissed her breathless. She simply forged ahead, feeling safe and loved in her husband’s arms, kissing him with love and appreciation.

My husband. My soulmate. How could I ever have doubted it for even a moment?

***

He hated to be the one to break the kiss, especially after being the one to initiate it. Unfortunately, what he could remember of his family’s tradition dictated that he stop kissing her at some point. He had work to do now, and there was only one place he could do it.

He let his free hand slide up from where he’d been holding her, to her cheek, cradling it. Her eyes were still half lidded and showed pleasure in their darkness as she looked from his lips to his eyes. She was glowing as much as the gem was, and he couldn’t help but to take a moment to just stare at how beautiful his wife was.

She leaned her head into his palm lovingly, almost nuzzling him. He thought that someday if she allowed him to, they’d sit just like this again and he’d count each and every freckle on her nose and cheeks. It was a scene that played out nicely in his thoughts, giving him the strength through promises of the future, to pull away.

“I’m sorry Anna, but I have to leave for tonight. I have to go do something… I have to tell…”

“You have to tell your family,” she said matter of factly, understanding in the face of his uncertain apologetics.

“It’s okay,” she added after a moment, “I’ll still be here when you come home.”

What she didn’t say, but what he heard in her tone was the “I love you”.

He leaned in again and when she kissed him, he felt the words in the act. He tried his best to give it to her in return.

I love you. I love you. I love you.

Anna, my wife, my soulmate, I love you.

Someday soon he’d say it out loud.

[storytellersumayyah]

In the UK, energy prices are set to rise buy such a large amount that many households will be struggling to pay the energy bill. The advice being given by the supposed experts on the news that most people will be listening to- the 5pm and the 6pm- is to keep your heating low, and to layer up.

What I find most frustrating about the discussions is they are once again completely forgetting to factor in two of the groups that are going to be impacted most severely: the elderly and the chronically ill/disabled.

When you are an elderly person, or when you live with an elderly person, you can't afford to worry about the price of energy, because the price of not putting it on is higher. Not putting the heating on when an elderly person is in the house becomes risky. You put it on because you have no other option and you are forced to cut corners elsewhere.

Which is fine, if you have an income. If you only have a state pension, you need to contact your energy provider to see what schemes they have available to you, but that's something they tell you on specific radio shows at 3pm.

When you live with someone, or are someone, who is chronically ill or disabled, the good pain days are still painful. It never goes away and sometimes, one of the things that helps is being warm. It stops a flare up and it reduces the pain because it's one less discomfort to battle.

But when you're chronically ill and/or disabled, working full-time may not be possible. Working at all may not be possible. And if the government don't see you as being "disabled enough" by their standards, you don't qualify for help. The cost of your energy bill comes from your pockets.

Layering up does very little to help in both these situations. I don't know what will help since I've never been the bill payer. But it's not my job to know. My role in the situations stated has been to reduce the amount of money that needs to be spent on my things. To cut corners with my personal spending.

The experts, the government ministers who are so intent on convincing everyone that it's nothing to worry about- they need to do more. They need to tell people how to actually pay for the rising energy bills they're doing nothing to help.

And they need to do it with the elderly and disabled at the forefront of their minds because as always, they will be the most impacted, but have been the most ignored.

[twinkleton]

ok but what if... a spin off of your douxie x reader where we get the details on how douxie proposed 👀

Ask and ye shall receive! This takes place a year after my At the End of the Century fic, I’m considering call this series just Married!Douxie since any fics I do with this universe they will be married. I didn’t imagine them living in the castle anymore without Merlin, and I just wanted some cottagecore lmao. And yes, reader invents cat trees 😂. Hope you guys enjoy!

Tags: @clarencebells @purplesinnerw

“Archie, could you come over here?” 

The familiar pokes his head up from his proclaimed resting spot, a basket generally used for berry-picking, and lets out a big yawn. 

“I’m afraid I can’t, you’ve sucked all the energy out from me already,” he mumbles, plopping his head back down. Archie and the young witch had spent the morning organizing their belongings into their new home. As a show of gratitude and solidarity for the small family, the trolls of Dwoza had been building them a little cottage in the forest for the past year, between walking distance of their land and Camelot. They graciously accepted the gift.

“Please, just for a minute! Then you can continue your lounging,” Y/N pleaded from her and Douxie’s bedroom. Archie makes a low groan and rolls out of his makeshift bed, slowly making his way over to her.

“I swear if you ask me to fly over to a shelf you can’t reach one more time, I will-” His sentence stops short once he enters the room, eyes wide. Unbeknownst to him, while he was taking his little cat nap, the girl had been spending her time crafting up a tower for him, with all sorts of levels for him to climb, at the top of it being a cozy bed for him, made out of fabric she’d stolen from the castle. Old habits die hard. However, it was worth it for Y/N to see the look on her friend’s face. 

“Is..is this for me?” Archie climbs up to the first level. 

“Well I don’t see any other cat familiars lying around,” she replies with a smirk. 

“Always so cheeky,” he says with a chuckle. His nose slightly wiggled, detecting a fishy odor coming from the top. 

“Oh, you didn’t.”

“Oh, I so did.”

He swiftly leaps to the highest level, eyes gleaming with delight as his suspicions to what was there were confirmed. Y/N, being the angel in his eyes that she is, had prepared roasted salmon for him. How she somehow was able to hide all of this from him, he’ll never know. 

“Do-do you like it?” Y/N asked sheepishly.

Suddenly, there’s weight on her chest, as Archie had flown over to her, trapping her into a bear hug that she quickly reciprocated. 

“I don’t understand, why did you do all of this for me?”

She laid her hand onto his head, gently stroking, “I don’t need a reason, Arch. You’re my friend, we've been through a lot. You deserve this.”

If it was in Archie’s nature, there would have been tears falling from his eyes. However, what felt right for him was to embrace her for a little bit longer, ending the hug with a simple, “Thank you, Y/N.”

Their bonding moment was cut short by the sudden loud bang of the front door opening, a disheveled and filthy Douxie stumbling in. His man bun had completely become undone, leaving his hair a tangled mess on top of his head. His clothes were covered in soot and his shoes were mysteriously soggy, leaving footprints on the floor. He leans into the door, slamming it shut behind him. 

The two rush over to him. “Oh, fuzzbuckets. What on Earth happened to you?”

“Stealing my catchphrases now, love? I knew I’d eventually rub off on you,”

An annoyed groan escapes Y/N’s lips as she walks over to assist Douxie in standing. “I thought you said you were helping Deya with a simple errand. You look like you volunteered to be her personal target dummy.”

“Knowing Douxie, that probably isn’t far off from the truth,” Archie smirks, giving Douxie an all-knowing look.

“So she didn’t give all of the details of her request, she’s a busy woman. She has a legacy of Trollhunters to begin, can’t expect her to be so thorough.” Douxie chuckles nervously, a laugh that tells Archie all he needs to know but seemingly raises no concern for Y/N. 

“All right. Arch, go enjoy your dinner. I’ll take care of him,” Y/N says, leading Douxie towards the bath further down the hall.

Once she has filled the bath up sufficiently, she sticks a hand into the water, muttering under her breath a spell. Her hand glows a vibrant scarlet shade, and soon the water begins to bubble up with steam rising into the air. Douxie, with clothes discarded onto the floor, leans onto Y/N for support as he slowly descends into the bath. He relaxes his muscles, the warm water helping ease all the aches he has in his limbs. 

“Have I ever said that I love magic? Because I do, I really do,” his girlfriend giggles at his comment as she softly brushes out his mangled locks. Afterwards, she pours some of the water onto his hair, washing away the sweat and grime. 

“Are you sure you’re alright?”

“With you, never better.”

“No, I mean, with everything. I know it’s been a year since the battle, but we haven’t really talked much about what happened. How it’s been for you without...Merlin.” Y/N had been hesitant with bringing up his master, not wanting to cause him any stress or discomfort. Still, she figured it was better than the alternative of Douxie bottling up his feelings.

He adjusts himself so that he’s facing Y/N, looking up to make eye contact with her. Despite himself, he can’t help but get entranced by her eyes, so vibrant and full of genuine love and concern for him. He reaches over and brushes away hair, cupping her face. How he became so lucky to have someone as kind, beautiful, and thoughtful as her be in his life, let alone be with him, he’ll never understand. He doesn’t know what living would be like if she wasn’t a constant presence and he doesn’t want to know. 

So, he lets out something he’s truly been bottling up. 

“Marry me.”

Y/N can’t fully process what he’d just said to her. Her brain hasn’t caught up with her heart, which fluttered the moment those two little words left his mouth. 

“What?”

Douxie lets go of her face to grab onto her hands, pulling them close to him. 

“I wanted to pick a better time to bare my heart out to you, one where I’m not bare...myself,” that earns a little chuckle from Y/N, “But, I just can’t wait any longer.”

He instructs her to grab his tunic still lying on the floor and to check the inner pocket. Once she reaches her hand inside, she feels a small band of metal, pulling it out to see. It’s revealed to be a golden ring, with intricate carvings all along the band, and secured on top was a small emerald gem, so polished that light reflects beautifully off of it. The sight of it alone is enough to make Y/N’s eyes start to water. 

“You made this?”

Douxie gives a little nod, “Hence my very repugnant appearance earlier. I did go to see Deya, but it was to ask her for a favor, not the other way around. I knew they would have just the metal and stone I needed for the ring, however had they warned me that retrieving said materials would be so difficult, maybe I would’ve looked elsewhere,” he explains with a smile. “Go ahead, try it on.”

Y/N slides the ring down her finger, a perfect fit. She looks up at him, eyes brimming with tears.

“Why?”

The answer is simple for him, “Because I love you. It has been hard without Merlin. He was always who I looked to for guidance, afraid of any misstep I would possibly make without his advice, but with you, I’m not afraid. You’re so encouraging and loving that I believe I can trust myself and make my own decisions and they won’t lead to chaos somehow. I look forward to each day because I know you’ll be there. I can’t imagine life without you in it, and I never want to. I realize asking to be with me for the rest of your immortal life is a lot, but-”

“Yes,” she answers, finally letting the tears fall. The biggest smile she thinks she’s ever had spreads across her face. 

Douxie lets out a mixture of a laugh and a gasp of surprise. “Really? Hold on, I don’t want this moment to be me in a bucket the whole time,” he jumps out of the bath, quickly drying himself and tugging on a clean pair of pants. His hair is still wet, leaving droplets of water on his shoulders. Then, he walks in front of Y/N, picking up her hands again to bring them to be his chest. “You’re sure about this?”

Y/N waves her thumbs over his fingers, feeling an overwhelming sense of happiness, “All I’ve ever wanted was a family. People and a place I can consider home. I thought I had found that with Morgana, but I was wrong. Who I really found it with was you. You and Archie are my family. I love Archie dearly, and I’m so in love with you. An eternity with you still doesn’t feel long enough.” 

Now it’s Douxie who’s crying tears of joy. This has to be one of the greatest moments of his life. He gets to be with the love of his life forever and always. He picks her up effortlessly, spinning her around while the two joyously laugh and squeal. Still in the air, Y/N grabs onto his face to pull him in, capturing his lips in a kiss. Douxie sighs into it, not able to properly kiss due to him not being able to stop smiling. They come apart, still holding onto each other and giggling like teenagers.

“Ah, so he finally did it. He’s been worrying about it ever since we moved here,” Archie says, doing his well known habit of waltzing in unannounced.

Douxie lets her down, facepalming at his familiar’s interruption. “That was supposed to be kept a secret, Arch.”

“Apologies. But really Doux? In the bath? Even I could’ve thought of something more grand than that.”

“Why you little-”

“How was your dinner, Archie?” Y/N says before Douxie can have a go at him. 

“Absolutely delightful, you truly are amazing Y/N.”

Y/N thanks him. As Douxie and Archie continue their snarky banter with one another, she can’t help but feel so content in the moment. She realizes that that loneliness she used to feel before will never come again thanks to these two. She may have had to defeat Morgana in the end, but she will be eternally grateful for the gift of love she granted her.

[shleepys]

AYYYY I hope you all were safe over the holidays and continue to stay safe over these next few months! Right now my state is dealing with record high covid numbers and a bunch of snow, might be different for you guys but hey, even though we're kicking off the start of a new year we still have to be aware of what's been going on and continue to push through it. But yeah!

We can finally reveal for the @harringroveholidayexchange, so I hope you enjoy what I made for the amazing @catharrington! I don't know how everyone else is formatting theirs if they did fic and art but I'm going to put both here! 💕

- - - - -

Overlooked

prompt! - I’ve always loved the differences in the two boys while growing up, I imagine Steve having huge Christmas parties with champagne flutes and the works and Billy being invited and happy to spend time with Steve, he really is!, it’s just a lot he isn’t used to. All up to author interpretations: make as fluffy or angsty as you want ;)

summary! - Steve forgets they were supposed to hang out elsewhere while his parents threw their annual Christmas party and agrees to stay.

Luckily, Billy doesn’t mind!

The only problem is, they don’t get to hang out... and Billy starts to feel overlooked.

- - - - -

Billy couldn’t be more out of place.

Parties were his thing, don’t get that wrong. He could get drunk, smoke, fuck, do whatever and if Steve was with him, only then it was infinitely better. 

But this wasn’t a party. Not the party he knew. It felt more like a corporate gathering or a birthday for someone he didn’t know and he only ended up on the list because his boyfriend’s involved. Which wouldn’t be a problem if everyone around him wasn’t two to three times his age and he actually got to hang out with said boyfriend. 

But it’s fine. It’s been fine so far.

Crystal champagne flutes and ugly holiday sweaters just aren’t necessarily Billy’s forte. He can’t fathom how much Steve’s parents spent on this party alone and can only bet that it cost more than the monthly payment for the house on Cherry Road. Not that he has much resentment towards what Steve’s parents do with their money but it just seems… unnecessary. 

He takes a sip from his flute, rustling the jacket resting on his lap before leaning further into the sofa to try and wait this out despite already being here for what seems like hours. Billy gradually looks up again and stares into the other room where he can see Steve and his parents.

He can’t see their faces, but he can see Steve’s. Their backs are turned to him - Steve’s off to the side - they’re merely silhouettes so he can’t tell if his parents are just being gregarious or snobby. Then again, neither of them really talk about their parents so Billy has no clue.

Billy watches as a couple leaves, the discomfort continues to overrule Steve’s face as suddenly another appears and the cycle starts over again for what seems about the hundredth time. He huffs, kicking the shagged carpet beneath him before lowly cursing himself out. Should he have reminded him what they were going to do tonight? Or would Steve have rather stayed here? 

He can’t tell whether or not Steve’s just over some of the pretentious attitudes and comments he’s overheard in the past hour or that he’s trying to break the chain and get over to him so they can do something together. He could always get drunk and wait for Steve to get done, he knows where the brunette keeps a bottle of scotch that he stole from his dad’s liquor cabinet in the office. 

He blinks, lips sucked in to form a seal as he thinks. “Should I go home?” Billy whispers, soft and hurt. There’s not really a point in staying and maybe he can see if Jonathan has anything new to smoke. Deep, contemplative breath.

Billy stands up and discards his glass on the side table next to him before throwing on his coat and grabbing his scarf. Everything from then to going outside flashed by like a blur, nothing of importance really stricken in his mind other than colored sweaters and the sheen of champagne glasses hitting his eye. His breath is almost heavy as he opens the door and a wave of ice rushes over him. It bites at his nose, almost makes him want to itch it but he ventures out regardless. Billy slowly closes it behind him.

Billy sighed softly, eyes falling to the ground. It’s been snowing all day. Coming and going with the wind and dusting every road, house, and tree with freckles of white. Granted, everything was coated before it got too dark and hopefully, the roads weren’t iced over for any of the poor drunks inside. Steam rolled from his mouth as he exhaled before taking a deep breath. Billy threw the end of his scarf over his shoulder and looked out where his car should be, a somber smile passing his lips but twisting into a frown. Steve told him he could park where his family parks.

His feet felt like they were superglued to the deck, that, or like boulders had been tied to the ends of them. Billy bit his bottom lip and fidgeted with his coat pockets, sort of kicked the snow from under him.

He swallowed hastily, a lump bouncing in his throat as he looked out again. Couldn’t pinpoint the emotion to anything else but a pang of burning guilt. Maybe he should have just gone up to him, shouldn’t have made a big deal out of feeling left out, taken him away from his parents so they could go upstairs or leave.

Someone jerked open the sliding doors. Light poured from the inside, Billy twisted around to identify the backlit figure expecting a drunk only to find a breathless, seemingly worried Steve. Billy wanted to furrow his brows and walk off into the snow where he knew damn well Steve wouldn’t go into with house shoes on, but for some reason, he stayed put. Watches as Steve shuts the door behind him and rubs at his arm.

“What are you doing out here?”

Billy doesn’t respond.

Steve seems to catch on, and their eyes lock. 

There have been times when Billy goes outside during a party to catch his breath, maybe sneak around back to talk to Steve about one thing or another, maybe drunkenly make out and hope no one was watching or Tommy had their back. But they hadn’t been to a party for a long while, not since September. And, Billy doesn’t just bring his car keys with him to ‘catch his breath’.

Billy broke contact with a sharp ‘huh’. “Did you forget about me?"

“What? No! Why would you think that?” Steve shuddered, pulling his hands into his sleeves.

Billy looked back up with dagger-like eyes, “Because it seems an awfully lot like you did.”

“Well, I didn’t.”

He could bite back, the very opportunity hanging in front of his nose. But he didn’t. Instead, a familiar quiver caught his lip. Lingering feelings creeping up and forcing his hand to itch at his pocket. Billy shook his head, eyes falling to the ground. 

Steve frowned, aware of the events to follow. He’s known the other long enough to recognize the outline of Marlboros in any pocket. Deep down wishes there was some other habit Billy bid in, but that’s a matter of discussion that needs to be saved for later.

Eventually, the pack came out. Steve chewed on the inside of his cheek as he watched Billy, his lighter flaring until the end emitted a pale red before shakily tucking it away. He shook his head again slow and somber like. 

“I’m sorry.” Billy started, hands moving along with his words. “And it’s not that I don’t want to be here. You’re just,” he sighed, “busy.”

Steve’s lips sealed tightly at the comment. He saw the discomfort present in the other’s sentences, could feel guilt churn in the pit of his stomach. Thing is Steve wasn’t the slightest bit spiteful, he was pissed at himself for not taking action to check up on the other. Not considering bringing another friend with them in case something like this happened. He’s upset because they were supposed to do something together tonight besides this but he forgot and agreed to be here. Steve watched him take a drag, self-spite running through his veins. 

The corners of Steve’s eyes pinched, his throat tightening as he spoke, “No, I’m sorry! This sucks, this whole thing has sucked. I stressed myself out over decorating for the party and was so excited to hang out! I didn’t mean to agree but I forgot! And mom and dad keep introducing me to people. I- I wanted to spend time with you! I didn’t want to be here!” Steve took a step forward before shaky inhale. “This is my fault, this shouldn’t have happened.”

The next few seconds were the two boys staring at one another, each waiting on the other to say something. Billy was at a loss. Steve had a million thoughts streaming through his mind, hoping that the blonde wouldn’t just turn away and leave. 

Eventually, Billy glanced at the door, peering through to check if the blinds were shut as a faint smile appeared. Billy’s lips pressed against Steve’s before he could protest, his hand meeting to cup the brunette’s jaw and brush over the apple of his cheek with his calloused thumb and cigarette in the other. Steve’s tears wetted his cheeks, he didn’t mind it all that much. The shock melted into comfort as Steve cherished the kiss, pouted when Billy slowly pulled away from him. The slight tinge of champagne lingering on the other’s lips, the heat of their bodies giving them a little warmth.

Billy craned his head - albeit Steve was taller - until their foreheads met. 

“Don’t apologize. I get it.” Billy whispered. Steve gave a small, dismissive ‘huff’.

“My boyfriend should come before a stupid party. I should have told them otherwise.” 

Billy shook his head. “The party’s nice. You beat yourself up too much over this kind of stuff, I forget things too. Remember the creek?” 

Steve giggled, lips twisting into a smile. “In July when you were supposed to meet me there and didn’t show up? And I stayed there all night?”

Billy frowned as he thought into it, the bitter call at one in the morning that turned into a week of not talking to one another. It ended nicely though - if ‘nice’ was drunk car sex in the middle of the woods. There wasn’t much of an apology there but hey, they’re still trying to work on things and figure out how exactly relationships work because they aren’t exactly a sixty-year-old couple with forty years of experience behind the boy’s backs.

“I still owe you for that. Sorry.” His eyes fell to the deck as he pulled his head away, bumping his cigarette against his finger and watching the ash fall.

After Steve noticed the shift he got quiet, frowned, and eyes followed Billy’s to the wooden boards below. “Don’t apologize,” Steve echoed with a light smile. Gently Steve grabbed Billy’s scarf and drew him in for a slower, deeper kiss. 

People forget things, that’s human nature. And sometimes they can be a bit dumb about it too. But this was going to be the boy’s first Christmas, granted it wasn’t exactly Christmas yet, but it was important to them both. Spending time with a significant other on a holiday was amazing even if they can’t shout it out to everyone they know. 

These moments always have a sort of energy to them. When the boys share a wordless amalgamation of self-deprecating thoughts after ‘messing something up’ and those little habits come out to bite to express those thoughts oh so clearly.  It’s a ball of weird energy that shines in self-hate that the two have been working to eliminate and hey, they’ve gotten pretty far! But, it’s still there. Smiling in the corner of the boy’s minds. Ready to strike at any moment. It’s just a lot smaller now. 

Because again, don’t have the forty years and that’s perfectly valid even if the two don’t seem to realize it.

Billy leaned into the sweet kiss before Steve drew back. Billy chuckled and wrapped his arms around the other as he tucked his face into Steve’s neck. Steve shook again, this time cuddling up to the other and ravishing in the heat and short breaths coming out of them both.

“I wanna go inside,” Steve mumbled, rubbing at the other’s back.

Billy laughed and slowly pulled away to look at Steve. “Too cold?” 

“I’m in a sweater and sweatpants,” Steve pulled on his scarf again and toyed with the frayed ends. The grin Billy responded with brimmed with bliss, his hand roaming up and held the other’s with a firm hold,

“I’ll meet you inside.”

Steve had ventured back into the party while Billy snuffed his cigarette into the deck, eventually, the two found one another next to the food Steve’s parents had catered instead of cooking this year. Only thing that wasn’t in foil baking trays was the Christmas cookies that Billy had been dying to try ever since Steve brought them up at the beginning of December. Drinks clattered in group cheers from the surrounding areas, the smooth music now bearable. He never expected that a party this foreign to him would turn out for the better. Never thought he would feel… like a part of it? The crystal flutes, richies, and overall appeal still don’t rock with him, but with Steve, he has someone there for him. And that’s all Billy could ever ask for.

Thankfully, he didn’t feel like he was going to projectile vomit champagne anymore… the nausea sort of faded after Steve kissed him outside. Billy turned to Steve, noting the rosy shade still dancing on the apples of his cheeks from outside.

“Your sweater isn’t that ugly,” Billy emphasized, chewing on an ornament-shaped cookie.

Steve shook his head with an amused sigh, sweeping the crumbs from his shirt. “This isn’t that kind of party, if it was I would’ve had you help me make one.”

“Are you sure? Because I don’t think Karen from Fiance got the memo.” Billy pointed into the crowd at the woman in question. Her sweater took the cake for one of the ugliest, tensile hangs from her torso, lights strung all over, buttons on the brink of falling off. “You think she beats her kids over the head with a bible?” Steve rolled his eyes. Billy smirked at the little glare he’d received. “You should have pulled out your grandmother’s cat vests.” 

Steve gagged, eyes wide and ridden with disgust. “Keep talking and you’re going to make me throw up. I never want to see those again.” Billy snorts and Steve shoves him with a laugh, “It’s not funny!”

“But you’re laughing!” Billy remarks and lightly bumps him back returning the bubbling laughter.

A woman seems to overhear their laughs and spins around with the biggest and brightest grin Billy’s ever seen. It kind of startled him. Doesn’t know who she is, doesn’t care to know until he recognizes the cat vest and how familiar those brown, round doe eyes are. She runs up to them, curls bouncing on her shoulders as she approaches with a drink in hand. Mrs. Harrington gasped, grabbing onto Steve’s sweater with eyes darting between both boys, “Is this Billy?”

Steve smirks and rolls his eyes again. “Hi, Mom. I’m back Mom.” She lightly wacks him in the arm. “Yes! This is Billy.”

Her eyes lit up, dazzled with happiness as she stuck her attention on the blonde as he snuck another cookie in his mouth. “Steve talks about you all the time!”

“What? No, I don’t!” Steve’s eyebrows knit together as he tried to defend himself but deep down knew there was no hope, especially after Billy gave him that smug but appreciative little look as his mom went on her story-telling rampage. 

Billy laughs, almost in disbelief, “Really?”

“He talks about all of his friends, really. But, oh! When it comes to you he goes on and on and on, he really thinks you’re something.” Billy watched as the tips of Steve’s ears tinted themselves red and smirked. An interesting conversation for later. “I’m so upset that I haven’t been able to meet you until now! You two are always out or asleep by the time I get home.”

Billy’s brows quirked in an expression of sarcasm. “Well, thank you for not waking me up at two in the morning to introduce yourself.”

Mrs. Harrington chuckled, shaking her head before putting her hand on Steve’s shoulder. “I’m going to go get another drink. Oh, and Billy!” She paused and made eye contact, “If you want to come over for Christmas, you’re more than welcome too! Just tell Steve so I know.”

Billy’s brows flew upwards, blush rising and Steve picking it up instantly. She waved goodbye before walking around them and going off on her journey into another room. The boys stared again, each waiting on the other to say something until the brunette spoke up.

"She likes you," Steve muttered, ears still red as ever.

"You talk about me to her? I think that's cute."

He huffed. Had to stop himself from leaning against the other to hide his face. "Mom likes knowing what friends are up to."

Billy loosely smiled, slowly bumping into Steve with his hip before getting a light bump back. “You look a lot like her.” Steve shook his head.

“Not as much as my dad,” Steve turned to see if he was there and frowned when he didn’t see the other but slowly faded into a smile. “I don’t know where he is, he would have loved to meet you.”

The boys got quiet again.

Billy cleared his throat, his head tilted down as if to duck away to hide his blush and the movement didn’t go unnoticed by Steve. “About coming over for Christmas-” 

“I want you to.” He softly tugged on his jacket to get his attention. Eventually, Billy made eye contact, grinned with a chuckle following behind. Christmas with Steve? His caring boyfriend, twenty million cookies, a few possible presents, and… some loving parents? 

Billy couldn’t be happier.

[7wanderingpaws]

The Art of Shakiness

Pairing: Baekhyun x reader

Genre: collegue AU, doctor AU, wee bit of angst, romance, fluff

Warnings: none

Word count: 5.3K

A/N: I saw the pretty moodboard and asked dear Marie @iloveagain​ if I could attempt to write this for her! I hope so much you will like it, sorry it took me so long! I would appreacite any kind of feedback! I enjoyed this! ❤😭 and omg I apologise for  the terrible name of the oneshot, I am very bad at names :((( 

-

“Miss, your hand is trembling too much,” scolded the professor as he walked to your lab table where the dead frog was lying, his white belly cut open. He stood in front of you, tsk tsking at you as he shook his head disapprovingly. “How do you want to take out his spleen if your hand is trembling so much? It is a small organ surrounded with even smaller ones. You know a surgeon needs a steady hand.”

Pressing your lips together, sucking them in you didn't meet the eye of your professor, too ashamed to look at him and see the disappointment.

You have always been struggling with shaky hands, whether you were stressed or not. If you were stressed and held a thin piece of paper, you could be rest assured you wouldn't even be able to read from it, the paper shaking violently in your weak fingers. It was something you have been extremely self-conscious about, and you learned early on how to mask the discomfort on your face whenever you caught people staring at your shakiness. Of course, just like all the elementary school kids, you were no exception to jokes or teasing, but you could deal with that. Accepting the truth and being able to make fun of it was a mature treat of yours when you were young and unknown to the cruel human nature.

“Just look at the gentleman next to you,” pointed out the professor, his hand gesturing to no other than Byun Baekhyun himself. “Steady hands, precise clean cut, causing as little damage to the body as possible. Maybe you should learn from him.” He didn't even look at you as he continued his way down the path of lab tables, all filled with surgical equipment and focused (or rather stressed) students. “Just continue working, miss.”

Gritting your teeth, you tried hard not to give ANY attention to the male next to you. He was chuckling, while working through the intestines of the little animal. His hands were swift, steady and just like the professor described, precise. Although you would never admit it out loud, having steady hands on a male was something that could turn you on and have you stare at the steadiness of the hands for way too long. Plus point would always be, if those hands were handsome too.

But back to your main point.

You hated the male next to you. He was you working partner, sitting partner and there was not much you could do about it. He was a playful charmer, always getting the best (or worst?) out of you, driving you up the wall. He was the number one student in almost all practical seminars besides… well, general medicine. In that one class, you were the number one.

“It's cause all you have to do is memorizing,” he would retort.

Sure.

Of course.

You weren't aiming to be the number one student at all. No. He was competing with nonexistent competition.

Or was he?

Because maybe the utmost, infuriating fact about him was that he didn't have to as much as sit down and thoroughly study. No. He was the one, who could read the text once or twice and he would recite it backwards.

So, in the words of students and friends that you shared, he was a scarily intelligent genius.

And you had to agree, and you hated him for that. He was everything you weren't. He was relaxed, you were stressed. You were trembling, he was steady. You were angry, he was cheerful. You had different personalities because of which your exchange of opinions clashed. And as much as everyone adored him, you couldn't.

-

It was the presentation day.

Your stack of diligently prepared papers was lying on your table, ready to be presented to the audience consisting of your classmates and your professor, who definitely didn't listen to information about the consistency of DNA before at all (sarcasm). Heck, he was your professor. If there was anyone that knew his thing better about this subject, it was exactly him. So you researched and studied hard, went to various lengths to give a good impression. But there was one thing that was holding you back, a scar that was threatening to bust open once you stood in front of the big auditorium, your well-structured ppt screened on the vast wall behind you.

As you were holding the single piece of paper, ready to start, was when you noticed your stress had got the better out of you again. It was shaking, violently, and despite you being confident in your presentation skills, this threw you off guard.

The silence in the huge space was literally deafening, and you struggled to get your heart to beat in a regular pace again. You didn't want to show this side of you. For once, you wanted people to be awed at how good you were at this…

But it didn't work. No matter the determination, the desire and mental will power to control the paper and the shakiness, it did not stop. If anything, it would tremble even more.

Screaming inside, you just decided you wouldn't look at the paper, hoping your memory of the text you were supposed to present was still well engraved in your memory.

Taking a deep breath, you were about to start when someone cleared their throat and stood up. Someone. It was him. He was walking down the steps that led from his seat to the podium you were on, and you professor raised a questioning eyebrow at the slim figure that was now almost in front of you. Not even giving him a chance, you frowned, whispering: “What are you doing?”

Without a word, he handed you something. It was a clipboard. “Just take it. Use it,” was what he said, giving you an encouraging smile.

Staring at the clipboard, you saw his hand - the steady one, that was now trying to help you by easing your anxiety. “Stop staring and take it. You have an audience to impress,” he murmured but he was playful. Grabbing your hand, he pressed it into your sweaty palm. Before he let go of you, you felt his hand squeezing yours gently, causing your heart to jump painfully.

Winking, he turned around swiftly, and on his way back he spoke out loud to the class: “Our colleague forgot her support.”

Your professor chuckled and motioned for you to start. By hearing him chuckle, and then facing an encouraging face of Baekhyun who was now staring at you like a puppy with perked ears and a wiggly tail, you finally managed to have a peace of heart. Your hand got a bit steadier as you put the paper on the clipboard, and with no trace of shakiness haunting you, you presented.

-

He was always there to support you, yet you never gave it a thought. You never questioned his fond smile when he looked at you struggling with scalpel or when the memorizing of the muscles in latin wouldn't work well with your brain. You never even thanked him when he told you the easier ways to remember the difficult terms and you almost cut him open with your own scalpel when he helped you at autopsies.

Patiently, he would lean over the lab table you shared, his elbows on the surface as he clasped his handsome hands together. Wait. Did you just say handsome? N-no, you meant steady and good-look-NO! Just. Steady.

“And now grab the left side,” he murmured, his attention fully on the work at hand. His hot breath fanned the skin on your hand and the goosebumps caused a wave of shakiness overtaking your limbs.

“Woah,” he grabbed your hand gently before it would stab another organ. “Relax. We can't ruin-”

“I know,” you snapped, stepping away from the table and focusing your gaze upwards to ease the tension from focusing for too long. “I can't scratch the other organs, it needs to be precise, and I should take out the stomach, not the guts… I know it all, Baekhyun. You aren't the only knowledgeable person here.��� You were still staring elsewhere, rolling your eyes to exercise the muscles.

Baekhyun frowned, not showing the hurt you caused with your snappy attitude. “I know you know,” he tried, straightening up to his full height, his lab coat in a funny angle around his broad shoulders. “I'm just trying to help. You only need to pass this one exam and then you don't have to do more autopsies, or surgeries.”

“No,” you replied resolutely. He went silent. “This isn't the only time. I want to be a surgeon, just like my father. I want to be as good as him.”

“You can do it,” he stated. He waited until you turn and finally look at him, but you didn't. It was making him sad to see you suffering and if it meant spending all his free time to help you, then so be it. “I know you can.”

“I can't! The professor will kick me out of this course at the exam!”

“Just trust yourself a little bit!” he insisted now, his voice louder as he took a hold of your shoulder, needing to see your eyes. He wanted you to see his, so that maybe you could understand.

Once you finally locked eyes with him, he spotted your teary eyes and he gasped softly, hating the view. He never saw you cry before.

“What?” you whispered, afraid to speak louder in case your voice would fail you. You already hated he was witnessing this side of you.

He opened his mouth to speak, but you suddenly shook your head in dismissal, shaking his hand off of your shoulder. “No, don't talk. Don't. I can't stand you right now.”

And you left.

-

Pff, that idiot kept being annoying even more after that day in the labs. He wouldn't stop pestering you, always doing silly stuff to try to tick you off and it would end up in him laughing at you. Yeah. You always knew he was no good news.

It was next week when you had the last autopsy seminar at 7am before the final exam. You came in earlier, your thoughts still sleepy but soon to be woken by your determined self to pass the course and prove the world that even people with the worst shakiness in their hands could become amazing surgeons.

Baekhyun was already there, preparing the equipment and checking his notes when he heard you enter the silent room. The smell of disinfectant hit your nose once again, and you suppressed the disgust and negative emotions that were tied to the smell.

“Good morning,” he smiled at you and let his gaze rest on you until you reached the table on the other side. When you didn't respond, only letting out a grunt, he frowned. “That isn't your seat.”

“Well, now it is.”

Once again, he tried not to show the hurt he felt at your actions. He always had you next to him; throughout all the labs he could keep a secret eye on your work and amend issues quickly when you weren't looking. But now, sitting too far away from him and the exam literally around the corner, you couldn't afford to make a mistake.

“You should get tissues from the toilets then,” he said, feigning ignorance as he focused his attention back on his doodles of corgi dogs that he was scribbling until you interrupted his diligent work - the one you mistook for him studying his notes. “The table's dirty and I saw a piece of a finger not far away.”

Hearing his monotone voice, you didn't know what scared you more - the information he was providing you and made you flinch away from the table, or his sudden cold attitude. He was never cold with you.

“Sure,” you replied, turning to leave, giving him one last glance before exiting.

Baekhyun, hearing your absence, quickly stood up and took his water bottle, successfully pouring it on the chair made of light wood. Good, he thought to himself smuggly. Thanks to the light colour, it would be difficult to spot the puddle and plus, it wasn't like people usually paid attention to the chairs they were about to sit on, right?

You returned with some toilet papers, and quickly cleaned the table up, although it wasn't as messy as Baekhyun told you it was. Getting rid of the dirty papers, you finally sat down, wanting to just move on and start preparing when you felt it.

Wet coldness made itself inside through the textile of your jeans, all the way to your underwear. Letting out a yelp, you jumped up, turning around to see that, indeed, there was a puddle on the chair that you failed to notice.

Chuckles coming from the side couldn't be stopped, more so when you locked eyes with Baekhyun's laughing ones, his eyes half-moons turned downwards as he couldn't keep it in anymore and he started to laugh out loud, his mouth wide open.

“You-” you let out, seething from anger. “You did this?!” you shouted, your face growing hot, as angry tears made their way to your eyes. Disbelief in his actions was an understatement. How could he do this to you? “Are you freaking nuts? BYUN BAEKHYUN!!!” you screeched, letting out a loud, high-pitched scream as you closed your eyes and kept screaming.

Stopping abruptly, you opened your eyes, huge tears falling out of them. Taking your bag, you made three quick, big steps towards his laughing figure only for him to stop, surprised at the sight of your tear-stained face. “You,” you leaned in, so, so close that his eyes widened at the proximity, his heart jumping fast. “I,” you re-started, breathing heavily as you pointed your finger at him, poking it into his shoulder. “I. Hate. You. And if I see you anywhere near me, I will end you.”

-

You didn't fail that exam. But your professor didn't forget to mention the difficulties you would have once proceeding on with your field of study - an orthopaedic surgeon.

It left you so utterly devastated, disappointed and just overall bitter about your whole studies that you ended up locked in your room for days, crying.

You made sure, whenever you had to go to school and attend exams, you would make great effort in ignoring Baekhyun, who was so shocked at your cold attitude. You not even batting an eyelash at him, and he, just like you, ended up being bitter. He missed you, missed your presence. Despite you being grumpy with him, he never wanted to lose you. He admitted he might have gone too far with the wet chair thingy… He thought… 

What did he think? 

Well, now he could see it didn't bring you back to him. It officially made you hate him and he was hopeless. Trying to start conversations with you was completely fruitless. Surprising you with bouquets of flowers on your table didn't work at all. It had only one plus: he could see you genuinely smile until you recognized him hiding behind the wall, watching your reaction and you would realize the gift was from him. As much as you were touched, and it may have made your heart flutter, you couldn't stop the frown. You would stand up, leaving the bouquet there for Baekhyun to sadly walk over and retrieve it, watching your leaving figure.

The next semester he never saw you in the classes again. Did you give up? Or did you take a semester off? No, you couldn't have given up! You came too far for you to give up!

Contacting you was not working; apparently you changed your phone number.

Why other friends knew this, but he didn't?

Did you really hate him so much?

And what was this pain he was feeling? The darkness that was surrounding him, caused by your absence… it was hurting too much. He missed you.

He was, in fact, the entire time, hopelessly in love with you.

And you... 

You hated him.

-

5 years later

You were just walking down the corridor at your department, hands deep inside your pockets when you heard your name being called out. Turning, you saw your colleague Hana running down after you. “I have a huuuuuge favour to ask of you,” she sighed once she stopped in front of you, clutching her hip for support.

“What favour?” you asked, worried you might have to stay longer in the hospital again. Even though your department wasn't the one where overnight shifts were common (actually, extremely rare) but staying longer than 5-6pm was always tiring. “I have covered your ass way too many times, don't you think?”

Finally her breath evened out and she straightened up, giving you puppy eyes.

“No!” you pointed your finger at her. “Don't you dare do this to me!”

“Please!” she wailed, locking her hands together in a plea. “I swear this is the last time. Then you can order me around as much as you want.”

You sighed, pressing your index and middle finger to your temple, trying to ease the stress of the day. “You know I don't like ordering people around…”

“Whatever, you will have me at your mercy. But Sehun managed to get a reservation at this fancy restaurant-”

You heaved out another sigh, her words now completely draining you out. These people. Dating, meeting up, being romantic, intimate… everything that you barely ever experienced, and now as a working person, you swore you could say bye to finding any kind of love in your life. You work was your life. But you didn't love work. Did that mean you didn't love your life then...?

You waited until she finished and you gave her a grunt. “What do you want me to do? I can do the exercises with your patients if that's what you want.”

She smiled nervously, but shook her head slowly, obviously wary and suddenly hasty.

“What is it?” you frowned. “You are acting like I bite.”

She scratched the back of her neck, avoiding your gaze. “Well, it is a bit of an annoying work, that is why I am not the happiest about asking you…”

“You don't seem like it,” you scoffed.

She ignored you and went on: “Anyway. Remember there was this huge accident few weeks ago? With two parents and two kids... “

You nodded, already dreading what was coming. It was an absolutely horrendous car crash that had two parents falling out through the front window, leaving them in a terrible state, meanwhile the kids didn't get as much as a scratch. News reporters were flooding the hospital and there was a huge interest regarding the two parents who were now lying on the intensive care after going through lengthy, difficult and complex surgery.

“So both parents have trouble with walking as you know. They are now at the orthopedic department after getting another surgery few days ago.”

“Oh, I wasn't aware they moved them.”

“Well, yeah, because of the naggings from the TV stations it is being kept a secret. But anyhow… The boss put me under the recovery supervision. They require basic exercises to support muscle activity. Do you think you could go to the orthopedics department and do it for me?”

You were hesitant. Not because you didn't want to do it. Actually, you would gladly help that poor family that went through such tragedy. But there was something else holding you back.

After few seconds of tense contemplating, you finally nodded. “Okay. Alright. I will do it. Do you have the necessary documents?”

“Thank you so much!” she squealed, hugging you. “I prepared the docs, they are in the common room on my table.”

When you arrived at the orthopedics department, it was quiet given the time of the day you visited. Kindly asking for directions from the nurses, you finally found the patients in question. A doctor was turned with his back towards the entrance, tending to the patients and making small talk. You hesitated only for a second before entering, the doctor not familiar to you.

“You will soon fly, miss, forget about walking,” he joked as he laughed breathily and that was what made you freeze. That voice was familiar…

The patient's eyes fell on you, and that was what probably made Baekhyun turn in his spot, wanting to check who was behind him. His eyes locked with yours and you saw that his manly features that were now in a friendly smile froze as he took you in.

How many seconds have passed with both of you staring at each other? Why was this so painful?

You knew it.

You. Knew. It.

That he would be there.

But you still came to his department. Of course, if there was any department closer to orthopedics, it was yours - physiotherapy. You and your colleagues were the ones who put into practice what the surgeons in orthopedics pieced together. The two departments were so vital to each other, they would be almost inseparable.

“The nurse arrived,” chimed in a friendly voice of the father. “Welcome!”

“Our doctor is already bewitched, we see,” chuckled the mum as she exchanged looks with her husband lying on the bed next to her.

You cleared your throat, heat rushing into your cheeks, matching your pink lipstick that complimented your face, and your personality. Baekhyun would agree, without hesitation. Sweet. Smart. Pretty. And real. Right now. In front of him.

“I came to tend to the patients, following the post-surgery recovery.” You said, still staring at Baekhyun wide-eyed. “If you could brief me in on the details, I would appreciate that.”

You weren't sure what, but something was so different about him. It had been too long. Comparing him to the Baekhyun you saw last many years ago, he was now more chubby in cheeks, seemed very healthy yet buffed up in a way. Sporting a clean haircut with brownish hair, you could now see how his face stood out. Sparkly eyes were still the same. Lips, that were now slightly parted at the unexpected sight of you, still so, so honest when he finally let out: “Well, damn.”

He was their main surgeon. The youngest in the department. The youngest ever to accomplish such an outstanding surgery. And as you learned while you were doing exercises with his patients, he was also “very, very kind and even more funny.”

You chuckled, feeling warm inside. Yes. Just like you remembered him, even though at the time you never acknowledged him that way.

“You know, all the nurses are swooning,” whispered excitedly the wife as you gently took her leg and pushed it towards her chest slowly before straightening it back up. “But the way he went silent when he saw you - wow. Dr Byun never goes silent on people.”

“Trust me,” added the husband, winking at you from the other bed. “We have been here for a while to know.”

“Yes, you have been here way too long,” you heard the voice from the doors and you felt your heart skip a beat. He was leaning against the doorframe, amusedly listening. The husband and wife chuckled, while you calmly continued working. “You are finishing up now, right?” he asked, the question now directed at you.

You looked at him from behind your shoulder. “Yes. We will finish in a few minutes.”

He nodded, looking at the exercises for a bit before he cleared his throat again and straightened up. “Could you please see me in the office before you leave?”

Humming an approval, he left.

And so, when finished and parted ways with the kind patients, you found yourself in his office, sitting on a chair opposite him.

“You wanted to see me…” you mumbled, not sure what to make of him constantly gawking at you.

He shook his head slowly. “Ah, sorry. I wasn't… I never knew you are working in this hospital,” he started.

“Well, I am,” you smiled at him.

“You knew I was here,” he stated. “Yet you not once came to visit me. And, and… all those years ago you disappeared…” he trailed off, slight hurt still present in his features.

Sure, first loves always hurt. It wasn't a shame for him to admit he never really loved before he met you, as much as it was difficult to believe it. 

“Yes, I changed my university and my major, too,” you replied. “So I graduated later than you. I never knew you worked here until recently when you became the youngest surgeon to be successful at such a difficult surgery.”

“Why didn't you tell me?” he asked, curiosity eating him away. He always wanted answers and he thought he would never get them. But finally, finally you were here. He could reach out and touch you, if he as much as wished so. “I thought we were friends.”

“Baekhyun,” you sighed before coughing. You knew he was asking about the past. “I mean, Dr Byun. It was a difficult stage in my life. I don't want to talk about it. I'm happy to know and witness you are doing well though. You became something I could never become.”

“You would have made it,” he replied passionately, speaking your name with such intensity it made you lock eyes with him immediately. “I had you all covered. I wouldn't have let you leave if you only talked to me!”

You were speechless as he slightly raised his voice, but not in a bad way. There was something bothering him, and you gently smiled at the hunch you were getting. “You always made fun of me, did you forget? You were my rival. I couldn't just be friends with you when you were the one having everything I ever wanted.”

Baekhyun went silent, heaving out a breath after your confession. “I never saw you as a rival.” Not even once.

“That doesn't matt-”

“I missed you,” he cut in, not letting his stare falter, and also sick and tired of keeping his emotions at bay when he had you in front of him. “You disappeared on me. Now you are the one who is doing the post-production of my work. Yet, you aren't even on the papers for the patients.”

“Yes, my colleague asked me to come in for her,” you replied, but your mind was racing at his previously uttered words. He missed you. It was true then. You knew it all along, and he confirmed it now. He liked you back then. Did he still like you now? “But I won't be coming back, don't worry. It was only for today.”

Baekhyun's eyes dropped on the paper in front of him. “I would like you to be the physiotherapist for my patients.”

You frowned and followed his gaze. “You want to change my colleague?”

“Yes,” he replied, his gaze carefully analyzing your reaction. “You belong to one of the best from your sort. So I want you with me. Would you accept it?”

-

You were seeing him everyday, just like back in university days. He was very busy, many times you caught him studying books and sometimes he came to check up on the exercises and the way you were practicing. He wanted to learn from you, so he asked you many questions, which always made the two patients chuckle. His funny remarks and entertaining commentaries made you laugh so much it hurt your belly and soon enough, he would ask you to come to his office where you would chat a bit longer.

Finally, you saw him in a different light. No enemy. No one to steal your place. Because he was complementing your work and you his. Drinking coffee or tea, you finally told him everything that was happening in your life and why you made the decisions that you made and you carefully explained him the way you saw him at the time.

Annoying.

Stupidly funny, which basically equalled annoying.

Handsome, which basically equalled ugly and disgusting.

Steady handed genius, which basically equalled handsome idiot…

Caring, which meant your rival.

But now, you could read it all backwards, and you would get the results that you saw now, but back then couldn't, blinded by your competitiveness. Funny, steady handed genius, caring, friendly, handsome and manly, and now in his attire, the title of the surgeon he worked so hard for, sexy.

He dared to make the first joke about your shaky hands after many years, and you laughed with him and showed him, that indeed, you were still just as shaky as before. But now you were shaking because of the butterflies he gave you. Oh yeah, shaky all for him. He would kiss away your tremblings whenever he got a glimpse of them... And you just trembled even more.

Seeing things now from a different perspective, you felt ashamed and embarrassed about how you used to behave around him back at university while he liked you.

It was almost two months after you first met at the hospital when he pulled you back into his office as you opened the door and were almost out. He closed it once he had you pressed against the wall next to it and his only approval of his doings was your bright, happy smile when he slowly leaned in and gave you a longing kiss. Smirking, he wanted to pull away, not having other intentions when you grabbed him by his cheeks and brought him back, wanting more than just a peck.

He was frozen for a heartbeat, but once back to his senses, he grabbed you by your hips bringing your bodies closer as he opened your mouth and explored more.

“I might have had a dream about you last night,” you whispered to him, chuckling again and he couldn't help but follow your chuckles because, goodness, this was actually happening. Once again, your sweet lipstick that tasted like strawberries, matched the colour of your cheeks and the stars in your eyes when you looked at him made him want to squeal from happiness. Because he had been dreaming about you all along. 

-

Secretly dating in a hospital full of gossiping nurses was a bit challenging for almost one year. But it became so unbearable and his secret visits at your department went almost unnoticed except the fact that a doctor like HIM had no business at YOUR department. It was always the physiotherapist that came to the surgeon.

“Baekhyun,” you giggled when he once again stepped into the common room of the physiotherapy department. You were just fetching yourself some tea for the short break before heading back to your work. Your colleagues gave you quizzical looks tinted with suspicion, but they had it all confirmed in a way; you two being a thing. It was all over your faces.

“Excuse me, I will have to steal her for a moment. Need to discuss a patient,” he exclaimed shamelessly before waiting for you patiently at the doors as you made your way to him with your cup of tea. Once out in the corridor, he looked around before taking the hot cup out of your hand, putting it on the floor quickly and grabbing you by your waist to give you a huge, loud kiss. You should have fought with him but you were past that stage. Let everyone see.

The college sweethearts, was what you heard in the gossips after you talked to Hana, telling her how you and Baekhyun first met.

Looking up at Baekhyun as he was smiling at you affectionately before leaning in for another kiss, you could confirm that it was true. College sweethearts. And now, lovers. 

“I love you,” he whispered into your mouth.

Hugging him, you meant it when you closed your eyes and your lips brushed his ear: “And I love you, my dear.”

Him, the best orthopedic surgeon.

You, the best physiotherapist.

The iconic duo of the hospital.

❤ 

hope you liked it!

CuriousCat Ask box is also open! Or comments!💕

[lettersnorth]

As he slid off his coat, Locke couldn't help but peer over from the corner of his eye as Aislinn went around the room lighting up each lantern by hand. He had seen it before. The way she managed to light a small flame with little more than a wave of her hand. A simple trick, but one he admired. Why she wasn't resorting to it now was the big question, but one he chose to keep to himself for the time being.

“You wished to be a knight?” that, combined with the rancor she had noted from him earlier, brought her to her next conclusion. “Did you grow up here?” she asked as she took a seat, curious.

Her question took him off guard, and the casual smile across his lips faltered briefly before the Hyur quickly regained his composure. "Once upon a time. You spend enough time in a dreary looking place like this and you're bound to go searching for greener pastures elsewhere. But tell me, what do you intend to do once you have a chance to speak with this ever elusive nobleman?"

She watched that smile he carried like a shield falter ever so briefly and knew that though his answer was nonchalant, it likely only skimmed the surface. “Anyone would.” she agreed. “Though now I’m sorry to be the reason that brought you back to such a place.”

"Nonsense," he said with a laugh. "I'm here because I want to be. Simple as that."

Any discomfort Aislinn had caused with her question was turned back on her as he asked his own. She moved in her seat, a slight shift from side to side that was really nothing more than a poor attempt to loosen the fabric of her tunic which suddenly felt suffocating in its ability to cling to her skin. She took a large swallow of whiskey.

“Remonaux Beauchene is a black mage.” she said, bluntly, as she unhooked the fastening of her cloak and let it fall against the chair. “Or was. He and I crossed paths in Ul’dah before the Calamity.” Now who was skimming the surface? “I have a...unique aetherical problem I’m hoping he can shed some light on. I don’t think he’ll solve it, but he might point me in the direction of what will. I’m not sure what I’ll do otherwise.” she gave a quiet sigh. “From there? I suppose it all depends on what he says.”

Magic, was it? He had little knowledge when it came to all matters of the arcane. Truth be told, much of it went directly over his head. And suddenly he recalled a moment earlier as Aislinn lit each candle around the room by hand. It was easy to put the clues together from there.

"I imagine a woman like you must have exhausted all other means before resorting to this," her plan sounded desperate. She was grasping at straws at best, and she probably knew that too. "Whatever the case, I'm here for the long haul. Can't have a lovely lady attending one of the biggest parties this city's seen in months by herself now, can I?"

The look she passed Locke was one of gratitude along with a measure of relief. She knew how her plan must sound, reckless with no guarantee of success. And yet, he had just agreed to stay and see it through with her. But he was right.

“I’ve run out of ideas.” she agreed with him. “But it has gotten to the point where casting anything has become a dangerous gamble. I never know what the result will be. It’s as though the aether ignores the boundaries I set for it through my calculations and does whatever it sees fit. The things I’ve tried run the gamut from potions to a trip to see the Fists in Rhalgar, thinking it was an aetherical blockage of some sort, all the while willfully ignoring what Beauchene and his ilk had done.” and then, as though realizing she was rambling, Aislinn paused and snorted softly in amusement. She wasn't expecting to be talking to Locke about any of this. He wasn't what she would call a confidant but right then, he felt like a friend.

[ourneverendingpossibilities]

Can i get a scenario where Midorima gets a call from his gf because she doesn't feel safe at a party she was left alone at or in a certain part of town? Thanks 😊

Hi !! OF course you can! Thanks for requesting! :D ____________

Midorima should’ve accompanied you to the party. 

It wasn’t his scene, but the idea of you being at one without him makes him nervous.. He was calm when he heard you were going with a group a friends.. But he didn’t get the address.. And he wishes he pushed you to tell him.

His eyes are directed on the work in front of him, but his mind is elsewhere.. Thinking of you... He told you never hesitate to call him whenever you were in trouble... And so far, he didn’t hear from you.

He wasn’t sure if that was good or bad.

He rubs under his eyes, stretching his arms as he grunts in discomfort. He’s tired, sore and wants to go to sleep.. But he CAN’T sleep until he knows you made it home safely...

That’s when the phone rang.

He sees your name, and immediately answers, voice gruff with a hint of concern,

“______?”

A quiet sniffle echoes through his ear, before a shaky sigh.

“M...Midorima-kun....”

“What’s wrong?” he asks, immediately standing up and grabbing his jacket. He doesn’t hide the concern anymore, running down the stairs to grab the keys and jacket.. Slipping into his shoes, he shuts the door behind him, getting into his parent’s car.

“I... I was left alone at the party...” you sniff, letting out a shaky sigh. “M..My friends... they got drunk... and I... I don’t know where they are...”

The sound of glass smashing in the background urges Midorima to drive faster, but his phone is sitting on the seat, on speaker as he puts his focus on the road.

“I’m coming to get you, _____... Don’t hang up until I get there..”

He hears another sniffle, and a tiny whisper, “M...My phone is going to die soon... I forgot to charge it before I left...”

He looks at the gps, alerting him of the time and nods. “I should be there in fifteen minutes, _____... Can you wait outside for me?” 

“...I..I’ll see if I can find my way out... It’s crowded in here...”

“Just stay on the line until your phone dies, I’m coming for you.”

xxx

Your phone dies ten minutes later, and you’re now waiting outside, shivering from the cold.. You left your jacket at your friend’s house.. As you were supposed to spend the weekend there.. Your parents had left that day for a week-long trip, and you let them go alone, knowing they wanted some much deserved alone time.

You wish you had insisted on Midorima to come with you... You didn’t think your friends were going to get plastered, or end up leaving you for some random men.. You find yourself resting against the tree, near the sidewalk, and you want to avoid being seen... Some of the people, they weren’t friendly... And how your friends knew about this party is beyond you..

It’s then you saw a car pull up, and you breathed a sigh of relief....

“M...Midorima-kun!”

You manage to stand up on your feet, urging them to move as you run to the car. He just exits the car when you jump at him, burying your face in his warm chest... He’s wearing a coat and jacket, but the outer layer is immediately taken off and resting around your shoulders.

“Are you okay, ______?”

You sniff, nodding your head with a tiny smile. “...I’m okay now... because I have you!”

Your stomach growls, and a blush covers your cheeks, eliciting a sigh from his lips. He gently walks you to the passenger side, helping you get in. 

“Let’s stop at Maji burger on the way home” he mumbles, a light blush on his cheeks. He tries to hide it with a frown, pressing a quick kiss to your cheek.

“You can spend the weekend with me, ______.... Let’s go.”

You watch him go to the driver’s side, and find your lips curling into a small smile. It warmed your heart to know he came calling for you, without any hesitation... You gently take his left hand, holding it within yours as you relax in the seat, heat beginning to reach every part of your body...

“Thank you... Shintarou-kun...”

He keeps his attention on the road, ignoring the reddening of his cheeks, as he lets out a small “humph.”

“I told you I’d come anytime you called.”

[lemonietrinket]

Muse’s Memories ||| Jae x Reader

Summary: You believe you have a crush on YoungK, Jae has a mega-crush on you. Moping ensues. Genre: Angst, humour, some fluff, happy ending Warning(s): Jae is melancholic and melodramatic, but that’s it Word Count: 2334 i lost 2k words are you kidding m-- Song(s): Nothing’s Gonna Hurt You Baby - Cigarettes After Sex AN: sorry it took a bit of time anon, i wrote a big chunk of it and then scrapped it entirely and started again, and then lost all of it to my laptop shutting down.  its been a long time coming so i hope it was worth the wait :((

~~~

The guitar strings were rough at Jae’s fingertips. They dug deep like thin strips of wrought iron, scraping at the skin as he ran them across the board, waiting for them to inspire him. Pressing his fingers by the frets hard enough to dent, he had been perched upon his stool, acoustic guitar in his embrace, for well over an hour.

A numb sigh fell from his lips and he curled in on himself, forehead knocking against the varnished body as his arm fell emptily away. His breath came out staggered, and at the first sign of the crumple of his lips, he straightened his back and stared into the bushes right outside the practice room window.

“I think I have a crush on Younghyun,” you had mused to him one afternoon, between sips of coffee and the chatter of the room. It had been at the beginning of term, when the sun was tinged with frost in the early mornings, sat inside the small milkshake place you always visited before your Wednesday classes, just the two of you. He avoided the place now whenever he could.

Despite the long weeks that had passed since then, the words caught up with him in the moments of silence, when he could hear how it was banished for others. Now, the suffocating quiet twisted at his throat, whilst next door came the sounds of cheers—friends discussing dream projects and futures they believed in, a young singer coming to the end of her solo practice to be received with astounded compliments from those at her side.

Hand heavy, he moved once again to strum a chord, to banish the silence and relieve himself of the thoughts that intruded. His fingers rose, then fell, and no sound followed. His fist hung lifeless at the guitar’s side.

The truth was, Jae he hadn’t gotten over you. Far from it.  Not when his roommate told him, not when he heard it from your very lips himself. Because there was no escaping it. No matter where he went, there were reminders of you. In the street corner player’s melody, in the loud stereo of the passing cars. When he tried to spend more time apart from the two of you, it was as if you were following him, and the only explanation he could procure was that you were waiting for Younghyun every time. If he was with him, then lo and behold there you were too. If it was just supposed to be you and Jae, he would arrive and find an extra chair already pulled up. It was as if the world wanted to rub salt in the wound.

And so there was no way for his eyes not to catch how whenever Younghyun turned up you smiled, how whenever he added a comment to his joke you laughed, just as freely as you did with him. Even though you confided in everything with him, he could only ever think of how much it must have paled in comparison to how Younghyun must make you feel. Of all the people you would have a crush on, it had to be his second best friend.

But you were his first, and so he sucked it up. He answered all the questions you wanted to know about him, gave the best advice he could, all the encouragement he could muster. It was the right thing to do after all, and he supposed that if he could’t make you happy, then at least the person he would next suggest would be able to instead.  

“He doesn’t like this place.”

“What? So what does he like then?”

“Bars, restaurants. Fancy ones, you know the sort. The old-timer lounge at the very top of the mall?” 

He couldn’t forget how your voice lilted into incredulous snickers. “What poor taste he has.”

“He’s more of a classic romantic,” Jae had defended, words flowing despite the cuts they seemed to embed in his tongue, “he’ll treat you well, Y/N.”

“You’re talking as if he’s already asked me out.”

He might as well have done.

Jae rubbed his temples roughly, wishing the ache would dissipate alongside the memories seemingly tacked to it. That was when the guitar slipped down his thighs, and disconnected from his body, he rushed to catch it. The wood felt too big in his hands, the edge pressing hard against the lines of his skin, but his mind was too busy caught up elsewhere to care. 

His finger had caught the E string, sending a quiet hum through the practice room, and straight to his heart. The weight lifted from his palms in that moment, as the image of you lifted the instrument into your lap. He could almost see you before him, sat upon the stool that he couldn’t remember pulling up, across from his knees. 

You were perched clear as day, clutching at his guitar. It was too big for you, your arm too short to embrace the wooden body snugly, and your grip was all wrong, pressing the frets too lightly and leaving the strings to squeak, but you didn’t care one bit. You were aglow; your grin was bright, your humming effortless, while your fingertips traced along the strings, as if greeting an old friend. You knew nothing of course, and it showed as you played around with the notes you could find from the stickers upon the fretboard. 

Your eyes had been alight in a playful awe at the sounds you made with literally no knowledge at all. It had been so similar yet so different to the amazement that you had given Younghyun when he mentioned he played the bass. 

Jae couldn’t help but wonder just how happy you would look strumming at the bass guitar. It was indulgent to a downward spiral but he couldn’t help it—the two pictures were barely separable anymore. Knowing his friend, he was so much more confident than he was. He would correct your grip, gently rest his chest to your back and raise his fingers to meet yours, gently entwine them so he could teach you how to strum, until you were truly making music, together...

It stung. Just like it did every other time he pictured it. Because he’d had some many more opportunities to do the same with you, but he hadn’t taken them. Just as he’d had all that time to confess, but didn’t. Whenever you asked if he was interested in anyone, he shrugged it off, biting in his nerves as best he could to change the subject. Just like how he did nothing but watch you play, with a stupid smile on his face, laughing when you did at the flat twang of an E string.

The guitar fell heavy in his palms once again, and he was reminded of the song left half finished that you had inspired. He’d started it in an effort to capture the memory, capture the sounds, to remove them from his head but to keep them safe. So he could reach a state of peace. But it hadn’t worked, and you stayed with him. It should have been no surprise really—how could he write about his muse to escape the problems that the muse had unfortunately caused.  It was as if the world was stopping him for some reason, one that he couldn’t discern, and so he was left at a loss for what to do. 

At that moment, the light of the room dimmed. 

Bringing his eyes back into focus from where they had sat staring unintelligibly at the wall, he blinked against the discomfort to find a silhouette in the window. Their head was low by the pane, curbed by no hood as their hand waved behind the specks of water upon the glass. You.

Barely comprehending what he was seeing, and still uneasily not trusting his senses much at all going by how out of reality he had been just moments before, his body moved surprisingly quickly of its own volition. Propping up his guitar at the side of the stool opposite, he ambled over to the window. 

With your hair wrung and bejewelled with droplets of rain, cheeks mottled with blush from the wind and a small and sweet smile upon your lips, he would have been at a loss for words for sure if he hadn’t been already. Nevertheless, he was beginning to ease back into the swing of reality, when your mouth parted in a way he was all too familiar with. Even though he couldn’t hear you, he knew you were calling his name.

Yanking the window open as far as it would go, he remained silent as the wind pierced through the open gap, pluming into the tepid warmth of the room behind.

“Hi, Jae,” you greeted. Your voice was unusually quiet, mottled by the rain, but regardless was music to his ears. 

“Y-Y/N, hey,” he cleared his throat, hoping you weren’t paying too much attention to how dry he sounded, “what are you doing out here, it’s cold, you should come inside—”

“You know I can’t open that old door,” you chuckled, eyes glancing off to where the entrance to the music block vaguely sat. “Anyway, I’m fine, don’t worry.”

He knew he should have pressed the matter further, but between the murk of his swirling thoughts, he could barely comprehend a thing, and so ended up running with the first piece of clarity they choked up. And this of course, true to character, came in the form of a memory. 

Peering at your empty fingers, tucked beneath the sleeves of an old jacket too thin to protect you from the weather, he began, “Hey... why aren’t you with Younghyun? Where are the flowers...? Like... you said, you were going to give him those flowers... to... turn the tables...”

The words poured off his tongue and he couldn’t stop them no matter how much he wished he could. However, what struck him more confused was the reaction that followed.

“I binned them.”

“What?!” he’d exclaimed, senses returning to his fingers in the face of the cold.

“I binned them,” you reiterated, “because the guy I should really give them to doesn’t like them.”

“But... Younghyun likes roses! I’m sure of it! And... and I’m sure he wouldn’t have an issue with receiving them for a change. Like, it would be—”

Your eyes failed to meet his, and instead appeared much more entranced with the way the rain spilled off the leaves of the bushes by your legs. You sighed, in preparation to take a deep breath, before answering, “He doesn’t like them because... one, allergies. And two, allergies.”

Jae’s head was a mess and with a strange sensation of pins and needles slowly spiralling up his hands that were pressed into the windowsill ledge, he ended up not responding, in an effort to finally decipher what had just unravelled before him.

Readjusting your fingers beneath your sweater paws, after the moments of silence, you drew your head up at last cautiously, dreading what you would find. It turned out that you had no reason to worry. The poor victim of your mistake was stood dumbfounded and dead still, plush lips agape while his dark eyes blinked rapidly at you,in the face of confusion and the wind. Had this been a more lighthearted matter you would have called him cute. 

You explained, in an attempt to help him to process the information before him. “I’m sorry I’m such an idiot, Jae,” you said, chewing on the inside of your cheek as you watched the light frown trickle onto his features, “I... I pavlov-ed myself. Please forgive me.” 

Still, he remained quiet the realisation sinking in. He had been wrong, so painstakingly, utterly wrong, and he was beginning to notice he didn’t care a single bit.

“I got my feelings mixed up and... well I was always happy around Younghyun, and always felt excited to see him so I just... figured it was him that made me excited,” you continued, “not that... I was actually excited to see you, and that he was usually a precursor to you... uh...”

Everything clicked into place for Jae, and with his reactions seemingly on a delay, he finally spoke up. “You... pavlov-ed... yourself?”

Meeting his gaze at last, you offered him a nervous and guilt-ridden smile. “Yeah.”

The wind whistled through the window, as the rain eased for a few seconds. And then came the burst of laughter. 

It began slow. First, the corners of his lips twitched, and subsequently upturned. A small disjointed flow of giggles followed, next chuckles, until, finally, Jae cackled.

The two of you erupted into sheer guffawing at the state the two of you had been in. Jae shoulder’s relaxed as he leant away from the window, while the cold seemed to leave your bones. You wiped at your eyes, whether it was rain that was clouding them or tears of happiness or relief you had no way of knowing. Instead you relished in the moment, and the sight of your actual crush in fits of laughter. He was too cute after all. Jae meanwhile couldn’t believe his ears, nor just how quickly the melancholy left his system. 

Some would argue that he should have been more annoyed, but there was no way that he could have been. Not at you, his muse. Besides, he had to take partial blame, all that distancing from you after picking his narrative and choosing to only listen to evidence that agreed with it left him appearing vacant and disinterested.

Still, it wasn’t like he would let you forget this, in all playful tones of teasing. This was in fact, a memory worth keeping.  As long as he forgot the moping that came before it, which he was sure he would be able to do. 

“Jae can I come inside now, it’s getting real cold out here.”

“Oh, yeah, of course, uh—sorry, hang on—”

~~~

an: i hate how melodramatic this is. and i dont like the ending, but having the fluffy kiss thing doesnt really fit the vibe imo. even though i hoped it would. i will give yall a window kiss thing at some point i promise. maybe the san x reader royalty au oooh now thats an idea

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