#its been slow but i think. its an achievement.

[hopefullyababe]

starting to belive that statistic about college students putting on weight while living on campus. having unrestricted access to unlimited ammounts of preprepared food has not done wonders for my weight let me tell you.

[comfortableinthesilence]

When its been a long ass week of work, I've been pretty introverted and not really spoke much or been on here this week…highlights for the week… I won an excellence award within my region for the training and supporting of 150+ colleagues by myself these last few months. To add to that I also found out I've made it to the next stage in a job application for a promotion within my work!..super positive stuff!

Proud of myself for those achievements, it doesn't change that i’m still mentally up and down, I'm lonely as fuck and just taking life one day at a time but its important to recognise and celebrate achievements! Sometimes you got to be your own cheerleader and be proud!

[pyrriax]

yeah so the grey particles are back. i think im genuinely just cursed (ignore my lack of health i was getting my ass handed to me by skyslimes then the server crashed pvfdnkmfl)

[plushri]

I really thought I wasn't that anxious of a person until I got high for the first time and realised I'm basically never relaxed and possibly also deeply unhappy so that's wonderful

[exopelagic]

i will not panic abt my exams

[wilcze-kudly]

Actually I WILL talk about Mai's seeming 'radicalisation'. With the upcoming comic, I can see why a lot of people are confused/caught offguard by Mai suddenly having a vested interest in reforming the Fire Nation's school curriculum.

However, I don't think it's as much of a heelturn as one would believe at first glance.

Mai is a difficult character to pinpoint on some levels, particularly due to her upbringing which stripped her of a lot of her self expression. I think most of the fandom underestimates the trauma and effect of Mai's upbringing. I elaborate on it here.

However, the long and short of it is that Mai was not encouraged to question, criticise or, god forbid, rebel against her enviornment. To the point where her parents scared her with stories of spirits that would kidnap her if she misbehaved.

Ukano's involvement in politics and relatively high status should also be taken into account. Mai would have grown up being strongly encouraged to conform to her father's beliefs and go along with his politics.

Mai : My mother said I had to keep out of trouble. We had my dad's political career to think about.

We've seen the propaganda and indoctrination of the Fire Nation school system, how it uses misinformation in its curriculum and how it punishes deviance.

Most fire nation children won't have the tools to find the cruelty and danger in the philosophy of the Fire Nation. Zuko had to get banished from the country to even start his deconstruction. And he had Iroh at his side to guide him.

It's not shocking that Mai would not be able to see the flaws of the Fire Nation. Despite this, she still shows no attachment to the Nation's cause, either. In fact, she actively refused to take part in the war effort when she thought she could get away with it.

I don't think Mai had much sympathy to the other nations, nor will I claim she secretly harboured anti imperialistic sentiment. I simply want to state the fact that Mai was, from a young age, forced to do things she didn't want to do and conditioned by multiple parties, to accept this. Mai has been trained to be passive, with only the method of passive aggressiveness and gloominess to defend herself.

I think after the fall of Ozai's rule and the slow restructuring of the Nation, Mai got more freedom in her life. Ukano's political role diminished, so Mai was allowed to think for herself. She gets to discover the world more and develop her own thoughts and ideals, rather than the ones she'd been forced to conform to.

This line in the upcoming comic seems to confirm my thoughts:

Mai's upbringing is the underground and darkness. She was never given an alternative or agency in her life. And thanks to Zuko, she was able to see and experience a different world than the one she was brought up with. She is able to help to try and achieve it.

Initially, Mai is angry at Zuko's joining of team Avatar. She feels betrayed and upset that he did not talk to her in person, even if it was to protect her. And yet, she saves him. While I believe that most of her motivation was genuinely out of love for Zuko. But she also, ekther inadvertently or deliberately made the choice between Azula and Zuko. Between the two potential duture leaders of the Nation.

And she chose Zuko. Who is not only the boy she loves, but also the boy who can heal her nation.

There is an argument to be made about how Mai represents the Fire Nation itself and its relationship to Zuko, but that is a topic for another day.

The theme of Mai caring for the future of the Fire Nation can be seen expanding in the comics. As 99% of the fandom will tell you, the comics have their flaws, but I do enjoy their handling of Mai for the most part.

I think it's interesting that we are shown that Mai not only wants Zuko to be Fire Lord, but for him to be a good Fire Lord.

We see her dissapointed in Zuko secretly meeting with Ozai. At first glance, what she says to Zuko is that she is dissapointed in him keeping secrets from her, which is understandable, since the last time he kept a secret from her led to him joining the opposite side of a war.

However, with her next appearance, we see that Mai may have had another concern relating to Zuko's communing with Ozai. When Ty Lee informs her of Zuko also enlisting Azula's help, Mai exclaims 'so he really is turning into his father', which seems to denote that Mai has a distaste for Ozai and his rule, whether that be from the begining, or recently acquired.

Mai also criticises Zuko's callous and controlling restrictions over the frightened townspeople. This serves to further cement the idea of Mai becoming disillusioned with the similarly inclined authority figures of her past. Authority figures who were a symptom of the Fire Nation's utilitarian and imperialistic system. We see this disdain manifesting in its full force in the teasers for the upcoming comic.

I think people tend to not realise how restricted in her self expression and thoughts Mai was, despite all the puzzle pieces being laid out for us in the show.

Mai has gone through a very quick and yet realistic episode of character growth in my opinion. Not unlike a lot of people raised in heavily Conservative and restrictive households who peel off later in life, she's settling into her own mindset and motivations.

Ans I don't think it's an unrealistic idea for Mai to want to help change the education system. The Fire Academy for girls is where she met Azula, and as an all girl school alumni, I can tell you first hand how toxic and confining these enviornments can be.

While Mai may not be seen as a particularly empathetic or kind person (though I think this interpretation is flawed), she can sympathise with the young girls who will be placed in the shoes of her younger self.

She can want to not see these kids go through what she, Ty Lee AND Azula did.

[The panels of Mai glancing between the stifling interior of the school and the open window and choosing to go outside and lead the Nation's youth outside... ugh]

Not only is this a rather logical progression for Mai's character, in my opinion, but it also feels like a very big 'healing your inner child' moment for Mai. Since she was not really seemingly allowed to be a child, as most children in the Fire Nation appeared to have such restrictions placed on them.

I don't think it's much of a stretch of the imagination that Mai would want to have at least a small part in dismantling the system that harmed her and so many other children of the nation.

She is a young woman now, she has grown from the oversheltered, apathetic teen she was in the show. She has been able to make her own informed opinions about the state of the nation, has been able to hone her trauma into determination. And it seems we're going to see the fruits of this development in "Ashes of the Academy".

I have very high hopes for the upcoming comic, since what we've seen of it appears to make a compelling story, one I relate to deeply, as well as a good study of Mai, a character I find often misinterpreted by the fandom.

[mrs-elsie-barnes]

If I Could Melt Your Heart | Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader | One shot 5k

The end of the mission goes wrong when you fall through the ice. Bucky manages to get you to the safe house, unresponsive and hypothermic. Bucky worries for your safety, trying everything to warm you and melting the competitive animosity between you.

Warnings: 18+ for suggestions of sex, language and both Reader and Bucky being idiots. Flirting, frenemies to lovers nonsense, kissing. Whump, reader falls through ice, symptoms of hypothermia. Rated I and L for Idiots in Love.

Final divider by @saradika-graphics

Masterlist | Bucky Barnes

The fall was easier than you thought it would be. Conditioned to have confidence in your decisions, you’d run across the ice fully expecting to reach the other side and then, just as suddenly as you’d made your decision, you were looking up at the sky between two walls of dark green water. 

The lake closed in just as fast, covering the sky, and your salvation, and panic set in, there was no air, your lungs burning from the cold and you gasped involuntarily, drinking in the crisp clean lake. It was over, the entire adventure was over, no more missions, no more tower, no more compound, no more galas and holidays and, worst of all, no more Bucky. 

No more late nights bickering over films, no more inventing reasons for him to be your partner during training, no more glances during meetings and arguments after briefing, just so he’d stay closer, just so he’d look at you a little longer. 

Despite everything you’d achieved, you’d wasted it all really, by not telling him how much you loved him. 

You closed your eyes, arms still beating in the water, heaving against the pack on your back dragging you down. 

The snow had come in fast, separating you from Sam and Steve. You'd meant to take a separate path each, converging on a safe house for extraction in the morning. Bucky had caught up with you a mile or two before. But somewhere in the storm you'd taken a wrong turn and now the darkness was closing in, your eyes fluttering closed, chest burning and Bucky still on the shore. 

Hands appeared, covered in Avengers issue gloves, one hauling you upwards, the other pushing on the clasp that held your pack and letting it fall into the water while lifting you into the biting air. A face glowed in the bright sun and you were happy to allow the angel to take you where they wanted, closing your eyes again seemed the only sensible thing to do, then at least you could dream about your regrets. 

Everything was hazy, but you knew you were being hustled into a safe house by the sound of the keypad beeping.

That's okay, maybe there's safe houses in the afterlife, maybe there's the crack of the fire and the cold won’t be so biting. 

When Bucky reached the safe house the wind had picked up, forcing him to wrestle the door open before half falling into the small porch, the wind no longer holding his weight. But he managed to keep you steady as he shuffled inside, locking the cold out behind him. 

He’d seen you go down, thinking you'd fallen, and had spotted the crack in the ice immediately after. It was clear where you’d gone wrong, leaving the track at the side of the lake, but he didn’t have time for that, he only had time to rush across the ice, sliding the last metre on his belly to stop it cracking further. 

Thankfully your pack had done its job and the two small buoyancy aids that Tony had added after the last jet crash were keeping you close to the surface. You were in shock though, eyes misty and for a heartbreaking second, as he dragged your flopping body onto the ice, Bucky wondered if he’d been too late. 

Beneath his fingers your pulse was still there, slow, but steady, and he flipped you onto your side and smacked your back as hard as he dared until you threw up the freezing water. 

He took a different way off the ice, just in case it had cracked under the soft snowfall. Carefully, he had trudged across a more dangerous ridge to reach the safe house faster, the snow storm picking up around him, aware of your solid weight on his back, his pack slung around to his front. It had still taken half an hour and all of his energy. 

By the time he’d placed you on the couch,  Bucky’s long hair was frozen at the ends where it had fallen from his black stealth issue snow hat. His lips were chapped and his shoulder ached where his prosthesis met the joint. But he could see you, and he could see you breathing and moving and you weren’t dead. 

He slumped to the floor and wiped a wet glove down his face, breathing out heavily. 

You'd argued, on the jet, about the drop site, about the evac, about the contents of your pack. There was always an argument, a bet, a challenge to be had with you, but he didn’t care as long as you were looking at him. And he’d never had the courage to tell you, to pin you to the mat when you sparred and tell you that he couldn’t go a day without seeing you. 

With another ragged breath he looked up. You were here, safe, together. 

Now what? 

Bucky called Sam and Steve’s emergency number together, hoping whoever wasn’t driving would pick up. He liked Sam and he trusted his medical judgement and while the tension in their friendship was easing, it was still easier with Steve around too. 

“That you, Buck?” Sam said, there was a distinct hum from the truck in the background that told Bucky they were on their way at least. Help is coming, Bucky told himself, you don’t have to take care of her alone, help is coming. 

“Bucky?” The side of Steve’s head appeared on the video call and Bucky rolled his eyes. 

“Thank god you picked up, things went from shit to worse out there, she fell through the fucking ice. Managed to get her out but she coughed up a helluva lot of water and now she’s all -” he looked behind him at your floppy hands and droopy eyelids, “she doesn’t look right, she isn’t talking, can’t stay awake.” Bucky rambled, his Brooklyn drawl appearing again through his worry. His words were getting mixed, he could feel them, heavy on his tongue, hypothermia? Something else? What had he been taught in basic training?

“Look, don’t get excited,” Sam said, pausing slightly, the howl of the snow storm still evident behind him. “But I need you to take off any wet layers she’s wearing, she could get hypothermia and her being unresponsive isn’t a good sign.” 

“Why would that get me excited?” Bucky said, indigent but propping the phone up so he could start unzipping your coat. 

On the video Steve rolled his eyes. He couldn’t see anything out of the truck windows, the snowstorm made everything static, but the video kept trying to focus anyway.

“Just do it, Buck, okay. There should be some spare clothes somewhere, if she needs them.” 

Bucky peeled back your sopping coat and set about removing your snow boots. Underneath you were wearing waterproof trousers, a thick thermal sweater and long sleeved standard issue t-shirt and leggings, also wet. He sat back, peeling the leggings from around your ankles. At least you had one dry shirt on but it was so small, just a strappy vest as your first layer and there were already goosebumps rising on the skin around your shoulders and collarbone. 

Bucky snapped his eyes away, cheeks flushed, and stood, searching for spares, coming up short. 

“There’s nothing here -”  he groused, standing his phone up against the empty fireplace while he searched. 

“Check the bathroom, they normally leave sweat shirts and things by the towels.” 

Bucky gave you one last look and left the room in search of something to keep you warm. 

Your eyes felt so heavy, your head full of lead and your arms and legs weighed down. Your throat burned and tasted awful, worse than the pack rations you’d eaten before you’d set off on the last leg of your walk to the cabin. 

The memory of the water washed over you and your arms flew out, grasping for the ratty sofa cushions.

You were safe. 

Everyone else must have made it too because you could hear Sam and Steve talking, saying something about Bucky. 

Blinking your eyes you were sure they were sat by the fire, maybe they’d light it soon, you were so cold. 

Bucky returned with a blanket and socks, sweat pants and towels and dropped them on the floor by the couch. It was one thing to find supplies, quite another to get you changed, he felt bad enough about taking your outer layers off. 

At some point during his search Sam and Steve must have dropped off the call, the phone now laying quiet on the hearth. 

He’d get you dressed and then worry about a fire.

The sweat pants were fine, they were loose and pulled up easily over your hips, the socks and towels warmed your feet slowly. But your shoulders and chest were still uncovered and he could see you starting to shiver. That was at least a good sign, your nerves were working and you were responding correctly to sensory input - but he couldn’t bear it.

Without thinking he pulled his henley off and sat you up, carefully placing it over your head and manoeuvring your arms until you were covered. 

You let out a deep sigh, smiling in your sleep. Bucky didn’t want to think about the way you seemed to snuggle into the collar, it was just body heat, that’s all, that’s all you needed. 

Bucky tucked you back in, being careful to tuck the soft edges of the shirt between your bare skin and the rough wool of the blanket. This was not the way he wanted to see or touch you like this for the first time. He sat with his back to the sofa, gun across his lap and trained his eyes on the door. 

Bucky’s eyes were open in half a second, body crouched, gun extended into the darkness until he noticed his phone lit up beside him, vibrating against the aching joints in his shoulders. 

“Hey, Buck, hows it going?.” Steve asked from the gloom of the truck’s cabin. Sam must have taken over the driving, Steve never used his phone behind the wheel. “We should be with you in the morning.”

“Oh, thank fuck for that.” Bucky let his head flop back against the sofa and instantly regretted it when he felt the softness of your thighs behind him. 

Sam’s voice was an echo on the line,“tell me what’s going on?”

“I took her uniform off like you said and she was awake very briefly, just eyes open then closed, but she’s been asleep awhile.”

“Awake is good, right?” Steve asked and Sam hummed in agreement. 

“Hey man, you need to get some rest too, okay. No falling asleep by accident, get in the bed or under a blanket and really sleep,” Sam scolded, it rankled Bucky sometimes, how well Sam really knew him, but he was grateful for this new team as well. 

“I shouldn’t I -” the words ‘I don’t deserve to rest’ were so close to stumbling past his lips. Instead he closed his eyes and turned his head to the wood beamed roof. 

“Look punk, whatever stupid thing you two were arguing about, it’s not your fault she got hurt, okay?” Steve’s voice was sterner now, demanding attention. 

“It was a bet,” Bucky admitted, weakly. “I bet her I could get here first and when I did I’d get the bed and the blankets. She was rushing because of me, she took a stupid fucking risk because she thought she’d have nowhere to sleep.” Bucky bit his cheek, the tang of blood staining his tongue. 

“For gods sake, Buck, that’s not your fault, she made her own choices -” 

“She’d have made better ones if I wasn’t such an asshole, what would my Ma ? Making a bet like that, you know I’d never have let her go cold.”

In your sleep your hands inched forwards, searching for something. The tips of your fingers found his earlobe and then, with a hum, you tucked your hand between his cold, bare, back and the sofa. 

“James Buchanan Barnes, your ma would’ve tanned your hide from here to Coney Island. But I know, I know you would never have let her suffer, you were playing games and makin’ stupid bets because you respect her as your equal. She’d be just as mad if she though you were goin’ easy on her.” 

He had nothing to say, no way to defend himself or make it better that didn’t involve him punishing himself somehow, so he said nothing. 

“Just hang on until the morning, okay. I’ll send over some more information on hypothermia in case we lose contact. But you just have to get through to the morning and then we can take over.” 

“Shouldn’t we get her to the compound now?” Bucky didn’t try to hide the worry in his voice, you hadn’t fought him off, complained, made a sarcastic comment or done any of your usual ridiculous arguing when he’d helped you. It wasn’t right. 

“No, no, best thing is to let her sleep and warm up. She’s fine. You need to sleep though, properly, on a soft surface.”

“Floors aren’t soft surfaces!” Sam shouted. 

“Okay, but -” Bucky paused and Steve raised his eyebrows.

“Just sleep, Buck.” If Bucky was worried, Steve was amused, unable to keep the smile from his voice as he said goodbye. 

You were still underwater, you were sure from the way all the voices in your head sounded muffled. But then you could smell Bucky’s shampoo, so maybe everything was okay after all.

“Hey, are you awake,” Bucky’s voice was so far away, like listening through a bubble, “if you’re awake you should eat something and then I can take your temperature again.” 

There was a movement, an earthquake, but the water didn’t move, there was no water anymore, just the cushion, the lap, the arm, the hand. You clung to the arm, but it didn’t yield under your fingers, it was solid and whirring and - 

“Hmmm, Bucky,” you whispered, nuzzling back into his hold. 

“No, come on, sit up, time to eat.” Why was the world moving, tilting? The voice was louder now, clearer. 

“Buh-” The words were gone again, the world was quiet again, blissful sleep with Bucky’s hand in yours. 

Sam’s face appeared on the phone screen, sleep in his eyes while Bucky gave him an update. He’d decided to stay awake, insisting he’d nap in the truck when they moved on in the morning. As soon as you’d started talking he’d called Sam and Steve to check on you. 

“She was slurring a bit. She wasn’t shivering but I think she’s warmer.”

“You think she’s warmer?,” Sam cut over Steve, looking pointedly at Bucky. “Feel her back and chest.”

“Her chest…” Bucky looked down at you, curled into his t-shirt, eyelids fluttering in your sleep. “She’s wearing clothes.” 

Bucky’s hand was still on your cheek and you turned into the touch, a small smile gracing your lips. 

“Bucky just put your hand on her collar,” Steve suggested.

“Awh, Buck, are you nervous around her, that’s so cute.” Sam teased and Steve scoffed at him. The line went quiet, but he could still make out some muffled arguing. 

He ignored them, sliding his left hand down to your collarbone, gently tucking his fingers under the collar of the t-shirt. His left hand was surprisingly sensitive and he could feel the prickle of your heat, you were definitely warmer than you had been. Your heartbeat steady beneath his palm, his thumb rubbed higher, feeling your pulse in your neck as well. 

“I don’t know what’s going on between you two,” Steve sighed and Bucky snatched his hand away as if he’d been caught, “but if you can get her to have some soup that would be great -” 

“We have to do something else.” Bucky knew he sounded panicked, but he didn’t care. Hypothermia could be deadly and there was no way he was losing you. “She’s still asleep, she should be coming round.”

“There's not much more we can do,” Sam's voice was sleepy. “Sit with her, if she wakes up, get her to eat something and try to keep her awake. Steve and will get there as soon as we can. In the meantime, there may be one more thing you could try -” Sam’s eyes lit up and Bucky just knew he was in trouble somehow. 

Body heat, that’s what Sam had said.

“You need to get under a blanket with her properly, keep her warm.” Sam suggested.

“You mean cuddle.”

“Fine, cuddle, would that be the end of the world?” He’d rolled his eyes and Bucky had felt a sort of sick feeling inside. He’d love to cuddle you, actually, would love to feel your body close to him without the threat of you pulling a training knife or trying to flip him on his back again. But he just can’t.

He stared at you, replaying Sam’s words over and over. Bodyheat, it’s the only thing for it now the fire was roaring again and the huge blanket was folded over twice. Why weren’t you waking up? Why were you still so cold to the touch? 

He lay down, rearranging the blanket over you both and let his right arm fall over your waist, pulling you closer. 

The fire crackled, the snow fell in quiet drifts by the windows and for a moment he could pretend that this was all normal. Just you taking a nap on a winter evening. Would you nap in your clothes? Or would you change into your pyjamas early on in the day and stay like that. Would you fall asleep as easily in his apartment? Would you want to stay?

The snow had stopped again, banked up against the windows in what would have been a wonderful Christmas scene, if you weren’t stuck in the middle of nowhere.

Bucky’s tactical comms were blinking with a new message but he couldn’t bring himself to move. His head was clearer from having slept, but the feel of your hand sitting low on his hip, your body perfectly aligned with his and, crucially, your face so close, lips brushing his cheek, had his thoughts reeling again. 

You stirred, nuzzling closer and placing a sleepy kiss on his cheek. Bucky’s heart sank, who did you think he was? 

“Hmm, where are we?” Your eyes were closed still, but at least your hand was hot against his skin and you were talking, cogent. 

“You fell through the ice, I'm trying to get you warm. How do your toes and fingers feel?” He whispered. 

You stretched your hands out in front of you, wiggling your fingers at him, “they did hurt, ugh, they hurt so bad,” there was a sad whine in your voice that made Bucky want to right every wrong you’d ever endured. You just sounded so small, so vulnerable for a change. “But they don't hurt anymore.” Your eyes drifted closed again and Bucky bit his lip, it really was now or never. 

“Hey, I’m so sorry, this is all my fault.” He closed his eyes, not wanting to see the anger on your face. 

“You cracked the ice?” 

“No, but you wouldn’t have gone over it if we hadn’t made that stupid bet.” 

“Oh -” and then you laughed. 

“Why are you laughing, this is really serious, you could’ve died.” His breath caught in his throat, you were laughing and moving and his chest was still bare and you were in his t-shirt, pushing yourself against him with every movement. 

“It’s not your fault though you idiot.” You smacked his chest playfully and he caught your hand, holding it tight. 

“Are you feelin’ okay now?” His eyes darted over your face, taking in your pupils - slightly too dilated, your skin felt flush now which was good, but you couldn’t look at him properly. “You’re not concussed, your pupils are -” his fingers lingered on your wrist, feeling your pulse quicken. 

You pulled away, “I’m fine, I just needed to sleep it off I guess. Where are we?”

You took in the cabin, the little bed in the corner, stripped of its blankets. There was a fire still in the grate and evidence of Bucky eating, judging by the little ration packets scattered next to the sofa. Your tactical gear was drying over the back of a chair and Bucky’s was arranged neatly by the door. 

“We made it to the safe house, you were really close, you would’ve won.” Bucky kept his hands to himself, but he couldn’t stop thinking about the way your eyes had looked when he’d held you, the light hadn't changed, you hadn’t moved your body, the only thing that had changed was his touch.

“Good, I knew I would, slow old man.” You laughed and it was such a relief to hear you happy, safe, Bucky closed his eyes again. “Where are Sam and Steve?”

Still driving, there was a snowstorm so god knows when they'll get here now.” 

“Better get some rations together then, I'm starving.” 

You wriggled off the couch and stood, eyeing up the kitchenette. 

Bucky, on the other hand, was trying to keep his eyes from straying to you. The sweat pants were far too big, sliding down over your hips, as we're the socks which pooled around your ankles. You looked so…cute.

“I don’t think you should be doing that, why don’t you rest?” He pushed the blankets and towels off the worn couch and tried to steer you away from the kitchenette. 

“Bucky I’m not dead, I was fine, I can make some-” you turned the can over in your hands, it sloshed, but there was nothing on the label, “mystery soup.” 

“No, you’re not dead, but -” 

“You wish I was, blah blah blah.” You laughed making your hand talk along with your words. 

“No, No -” Through your laugh, Bucky’s voice was laced with distress. “I never wanted you to get hurt.” 

He dodged around you, trying to get you to slow down and look at him but you were turning a pan over in your hands, deciding if it was too rusty for cooking with. 

“I know, you just wanted to win. No hard feelings, Buck. We’ll pick a winner next time.” 

You were determined to carry on like this then, with your arguing and betting and banter. Even though Bucky had sat with you through the night, certain you were going to die and it was entirely his fault that you’d die without knowing you were the one who kept him going. 

“I don’t want there to be a next time.” He said, plainly. 

“Oh, right, well, I guess we can just ask to be placed on different teams. If that’s what you want.” Suddenly the laughter had stopped and it was like you'd been dipped in ice again, the atmosphere was frosty and tense. 

“No, for god's sake, that's not what I mean. Fuck, I'm messing this up!” Bucky grumbled, making a grab for you.

“Hey!” You tried to dodge again, but he took your hands and pulled you close. 

“I don't want there to be a next time because I never want you to be in danger because of me. There won't be a next time because I was so scared I was going to lose you without telling you…”

“Telling me…what?”

“That you make all of this worthwhile.” He said, the tension leaving his body. “I couldn't imagine training without you, dinners and galas and missions. It wouldn't be the same, it wouldn't be worth it if you weren't there too.”

“Bucky-”

“You don't have to say anything, I just needed to tell you.” He dropped your hands and turned, “I'm going to go and call Sam and Steve, see if they're nearly here for evac.”

But you heard the water turn on and knew he wasn’t doing any such thing. He was having one of his angry, ‘wash away the argument’ showers that infuriated you so much when you had to share a hotel room or a safe house or when you followed him to his room to continue whatever ridiculous argument you’d both cooked up.

You continued stirring the soup slowly. Soup was really all you could find that didn’t make you feel sick just from reading the label, and you bent over the stove allowing the steam to warm your fingers and cheeks. 

The door to the bathroom slammed and you turned to see the light spilling from under the door. What did he mean ‘you make all of this worthwhile’. He was messing around, right? All the bets and fights, the arguments. He liked to get under your skin because, well, he clearly didn’t like you very much. 

You dropped the wooden spoon against the side of the pan, letting the too short handle slowly drown in the now spitting hot soup. 

But you liked him. Your heart had been pounding when he touched you and now your mind was racing at the thought of him even more than tolerating you. 

Before you could stop yourself you were crossing the cabin and hammering on the bathroom door. 

Bucky’s face was flush when he opened the door, pink staining his cheeks and blending with the faint lines on his face where he’d been cut during your mission.

He said nothing. 

“Tell me what you meant.” You demanded, trying to keep your eyes up. It was difficult, Bucky had stripped off already, you’d sparred enough times to know what his chest felt like, it seeing might actually tip you over the edge. 

“Don’t do this.” He grumbled, “just leave me alone.” 

He went to close the door but you pushed your flat palm against the wood, “Bucky you can’t go saying shit like that and then walk off and make it my fault.” 

“I can’t deal with it today, okay? I pulled your lifeless fucking body from underneath a sheet of ice. I thought you were dead, okay, dead.”

His jaw ticked as he closed his eyes and you could see how dark they were underneath, as if he hadn’t slept at all.

“I carry you back here and - god - you were so cold, freezing, and I stripped all those clothes off thinking ‘Bucky she’s going to kill you’ and then you wanted to hold me while you slept. And you could’ve died, I thought you had died, and it’d be my fault because I made a fucking bet with you just so you’d talk to me and smile at me and I wanted you to win, I really did, because when you win you look at me and your eyes sparkle and I can pretend its because of me -” he took a breath, shocked that he’d allowed such a stark confession out. But he was so tired and - 

“It is you.” You whispered, “if my eyes sparkle -” your lips quirked up at the corner, “if they do it is because of you. I like when you make bets with me because then I know you’ll be thinking about me. I like when we fight because you touch me and I can pretend it's because you want to and -” 

Your thoughts were cut off by Bucky wrapping his arms around your back, his hands were wide on your shoulders when he pulled you up and into him, kissing you hard enough to bruise. 

“I’m so fucking in love with you,” his eyes were still full of emotion, his eyes piercing, it still felt warm to be under his gaze but there was something extra something more in your honesty that had you pressing your lips to his again. 

“I fucking love you too.” You confessed against his mouth and jumped into his arms.

Bucky stumbled out from the bathroom, balancing you on his hips so his hands could cradle your back, pressing you close. Between you he could feel how soft your breasts were, peaked nipples hard and your heartbeat fast.

Your chest heaved, pulling back for breath with a huge smile, a laugh in the corner of your mouth.

"We've been so stupid."

"Uh -huh," Bucky knelt, lowering you to pile of blankets that had been kicked off the sofa so recently, "stupid, yeah." He went back to kissing you, holding himself up with one hand and using the other to trace over every curve of your body.

"I've waited so long to have you like this," he murmered, lips brushing your own, "and you've been so sick, I can wait a while longer."

Bucky pulled away, but you tightened your grip around his neck and pulled him down with you.

"If you think you're leaving me now," you groaned, "you're very much mistaken."

Bucky's smile turned almost feral, his pupils wide and eyes roving your face for any sign of discomfort.

"I'll be very -"

"Bucky,"

"Hmm?" He was lost in touching you again,

"Just fuck me."

He seemed to lose all control, crushing a kiss against your lips and letting the hands that had been so gentle grip you even tighter, his finger pads digging into the soft flesh of your thighs, tipping your hips up so he could grind his hard cock against you.

"Is that an M249 in your -"

"I'm just very pleased to see you," he countered, smiling into your kisses.

You laughed, the fire of your sparing still there in the way he hiked your leg over his hip, and you remembered all the times he'd rolled you over on the mats just like this, your breath fanning over his cheek and his body so close to yours.

"Can't promise it's as big though."

You slid your hand into his tight tactical trousers and squeezed the still growing bulge beneath, "I dunno, Buck, pretty close."

"Flattery will get you everywhere."

"I'm exactly where I want to be."

His kisses slowed and he pulled back, brushing a hand down your cheek, "me too."

Sam was exhausted when he pulled the truck up to the safe house, Steve was dosing in the passenger seat after his stint at driving and Sam was looking forward to his own sleep before they made their way to the evac point. 

He shoved the door open, expecting to see the familiar sight of you bickering over cards but -

“Sam!” Bucky shouted, throwing a blanket over your naked body and accidentally exposing himself in the process. “Get out!” 

You laughed, clinging to Bucky’s arm in peels of laughter. 

“Steve!” Sam shouted as he retreated, “you owe me twenty dollars! And Bucky owes me an hour with his therapist” 

“He can have whatever he wants as long as I get to keep you.” Bucky smiled, kissing you on the cheek. 

“That’s so cheesy, Bucky, gross.” Your laughter turned into giggles. 

“You love it.” He kissed you again and your lips parted in anticipation. 

“Hmm, I guess I do…” You let him push you back into the blankets, kissing down your neck before- “ I bet you I can get dressed faster!”

[evilminji]

Dani should Kidnap The Clones.

It's basicly protective custody. Preemptive child services, if you will. NONE of these fuckers out here makin adorable clone baby just cause they want kids!

*kicks down the door to your shady lab* Knock Knock! ITS THE POLICE! *Walker's Shock troopers swarm the place as Dani secures the kids*

Look me in the eyes. You KNOW he'd love an excuse to enforce The Rules on people technically outside his jurisdiction. It's for The Children(tm)! Why, he simply had no CHOICE!

Meanwhile? Dani is shoving all these mal-adjusted Murder Clones into her Lair? Which is? Basicly a Door style Lair she hid inside Danny's Lair for safe keeping. It's shoved behind a vending machine just outside the observatory. And the inside? Goes on for DAYS.

Like national parks and every beautiful beach she ever came across. She smashed together the BEST sights and places she's found in her travels, like a collection. Always adding more. New waterfalls, new noodle shops, new fields of wine grapes. It's... beautiful. Snapshots of every wonderous little thing about Earth, stitched together.

They can't hurt anyone. Can't achieve their "objectives". Are just treated like actual individuals and the children they truely are. Are surrounded by other Clones. So it's NORMAL here. Just? All of it.

But also?

Dani and Dan? Teaming up to make History's Scariest Adoption Agency(TM). Dan runs it. Dan wants to know why EXACTLY you want a kid. Explain yourself to Dan. What are your references? Qualifications. He's doing a home visit to inspect the premises. He BETTER not find any suspicious Labs.

And? It just? Appears out of nowhere. It's powered by Zone Bullshit. One second you're thinking "oh woe is me D:> I will never have a child to fill my lovely home, because of all my Superhero Secrets and also because government bureaucracy!" And the next?

.....wasn't that an out of business taco bell? "Zone Adoptions"?

"....Free Clone Baby?"

Okay that is HIGHLY suspicious and as a hero you are basicly legally obligated to investigate. But now it's bigger on the inside? Fancy waiting room? You are being interrogated? Wait, no, you're supposed to be the one doing the-?

Somehow? You leave with your Clone Son from another Dimension. And a pamphlet. You're scheduled for a home visit in three days. You... you never told them where you live.

Somehow that doesn't seem like it will slow them down.

Did the Fae just Suprise Baby you with a clone baby? Can they DO that? W... what's happening? What days is this? Who ARE YOU PEOPLE?! HUH!?!?

Just? Imagine. IMAGINE. I was gonna say Bruce... but?

Damian.

He finds himself... pondering What Could Have Been. Had his Clones not wanted him dead. Wondering if he could have saved them. If, perhaps, he had found them as infants. Raised them. Could he have given them a good life? Been a good father?

He gets emotional. Fatherly. He's about 14.

Dan's been around Ghosts too long to remember how humans age or how age relates to development. This one TALKS like An Adult. Must be one. Probably just short.

And Damian? Never backs down. The second Dan starts challenging him? His character is flawless and his morals divine. He has never done anything wrong, ever, in his LIFE. Fuck you. And on TOP of that? He not only will be the SINGLE GREATEST FATHER TO EVER FATHER, his home is the most loving and beloved ON THE PLANET!

In entirety of EARTH'S history, no less!

....what are they arguing about?

*is handed a baby and kicked out of Dan's adoption agency*

See you in a few days!

(o.o ) *happy gurgling from the baby* *Damian.exe has stopped working*

Smash cut, after Damian speed runs his stages of grief at his own Dumbass Life Choices, to his rocking back up at the Manor like? Congratulations, Father. I have brought you your first grandson! Do Not ask how I obtained him. It was likely dubiously legal but I will not be returning him. We have bonded.

And just? Annihilating the collective Bats on one go. You did what? You have What?! That is a baby! WHY IS THERE A BABY?! How is there a baby!? WHOS BABY!? *sirens going off and everyone panicking*

Will Damian be allowed to KEEP the Baby? Ha! Hell no. Bruce will. Damian is a child. But it will be a Needlessly Dramatic Bat Cold War Of Dramatic Drama to pry that small cherubic baby from his grip long enough for Bruce to fill out the paperwork.

Child thieving bastard that he is. How dare he. That is Damian's SON! D:<

*happy oblivious baby noises as Alfred feeds him in the background, while the Bats do their Dramatic Custody War*

@hdgnj @babbling-babull @hypewinter @nerdpoe @lolottes @mutable-manifestation

[slytherinshua]

ALL MY LOVE

genre. fluff. boyfriend headcanons. warnings. minghao dreams abt marriage and starting a family. not proofread and written while i'm sick and have half a braincell so i'm rly sorry if this is a mess. pairing. minghao x fem!reader. wc. 558. request. no. a/n. babe wake up slytherinshua is back skdjskd GOD IM SO HAPPY I WAS ABLE TO WRITE SOMETHING FINALLY 😭😭 thought this blog was literally gonna die cause writers block was so strong. also surprised it ended up being svt that broke through my block esp minghao but yk ill take it no complaints !!!!

boyfriend!minghao who’s a gentle, slow lover. he never rushes, but he also never leaves you with any doubt. he can read you like a book, and any concerns on your mind seem to be instantly resolved before you even have time to bring them up. he’s steady and true; your rock that you always know you can fall back on when things get tough. no matter what, he’ll always be there. he gives you a soft passionate type of love that you would never get tired of even after decades. 

boyfriend!minghao who’s always been ambitious. he has dozens of things he’d like to do and achieve, but he also knows how to take life slow and enjoy the present. he knows he has time to do everything he wants, and he reminds you that you also have plenty of time as well. sometimes you need that extra voice to tell you that it’s okay to take a break sometimes. it’s okay to breathe and think. no matter what, minghao will always be your biggest supporter— always rooting for you to strive and reach your goals, even if they are small.

boyfriend!minghao who helps you relax after a long day. warm tea and a massage are enough to put your mind and body at ease. his hands work like magic over your neck, shoulders, and back. it’s so good, in fact, that you feel guilty for not paying him for his service. he would never accept anything like that from you, though. once he’s done working out the knots for 20 minutes, he’d fall on top of you, giggling into the crook of your neck as he acts like your personal weighted blanket.

boyfriend!minghao who has a whole collection of couple items with you over the years. whether it be clothes, jewelry, or even mugs, everything he buys seems to come in a set of two. he can’t even imagine buying something for just himself anymore when you always seem to cross his mind whenever he spots something cute.

boyfriend!minghao who scolds you (but truly only out of love). his attention to detail and observant nature is both his strength and his flaw. he’s quick with his tongue— too quick— and will catch himself lecturing or correcting you when it wasn’t strictly needed. although it’s rare for his scolding to get on your nerves, as you know its a way he shows that he cares about you and loves you, it sometimes does. but he’s quick with his apologies as well, so no bickering between you two can ever last long. 

boyfriend!minghao who is so happy and secure in your relationship. he knows he’s found the one with you, and now that he’s been able to call you his for years, there’s no way he would ever be able to imagine his life without you. the overwhelming fondness he holds for you plants itself in his head and his heart and always has him thinking about your future together. he’d tell you randomly over tea how much he’s been thinking and dreaming about spending the rest of his life with you. whether it be big milestones like your wedding and starting a family, or smaller ones like waking up in each others arms each morning, he’s excited to experience it all with you.

↳ svt taglist (bolded could not be tagged): @kangtaehyunzzz,, @eternalgyu,, @ddeonudepressions,, @hannahsophie0103,, @minholing,,

@shuabby1994,, @icyminghao,, @98-0603,, @weird-bookworm,, @candewlsy,,

@wonwooz1,, @blossominghunnie,, @haecien,, @amara-mars,, @okshu,,

@parkjennykim,, @wootify,, @svtoose,, @seunghancore,, @ujisworld,,

@heavenfilm,, @sobun1est,, @bananabubble,, @talkingsaxy,, @thesunsfullmoon,,

@talking-saxy,, @nicholasluvbot,, @cupidslovearrows,, @50-husbands,, @hursheys,,

@gong-fourz,, @nonononranghaee,, @forever-atiny

[winterzsurprise]

Change My Mind [1]

Pairing: BTS x reader

SUMMARY: As a make-up artist, you were expected to glamorize your clients with brushes and products that cost a week-worth of food, not to befriend them outside of work, let alone have them save you from dates yet here you are five years later as one of their closest confidants.

Being a stylist of the world's biggest boyband is no easy feat, someone is doing flips, someone can't stay still and one's asleep but its fine, you can work around their chaos but then one day, you find out they're all your soulmates, a whole different can of chaos you don't think you can handle.

Tags: Soulmates AU, Friends to Lovers, Eventual Smut, Not Beta Read, Slow Build, Polyamory, Attempts at Humor

Words: 5k

haha heyy I'm back after a year. Still suffering from writer's block so here's the start of a series I created during it, forcing myself to actually write. There's no set schedule but I'll try my best to do it weekly. That is all and pre-save Neva Play :DD

MASTERLIST || Next>>>

__________

Maybe you should've cut off your mother before you went past the age for mark appearances.

If you had then maybe you wouldn't be suffering with the overcompensating rant about an unfortunate man and his bare minimum achievements.

What are you, Bangtan's—The current biggest boyband in the world—makeup artists since their era of wearing thick eyeliners to convey their passion and emo inspired hairstyles, doing, listening to someone's so-called gratifying achievements?

Staring at the source of the grating voice babbling nonsense, you refrain yourself from letting out a heavy sigh.

Jeong Binwoo is a stout man. His roundness is enhanced by the fact that he's an inch or so shorter than you on a good day. His face reminds you of a dumpling, especially now that he's stuffing it with a handful of greasy fries in quick successions. Despite his full mouth, he kept on speaking and you swore a few stray blobs had landed on your plate.

You've only just a week and a half before the start of their tour in Seoul and here you are wasting your time sitting in front of a man whose awareness is limited to only himself when you could've been at work or binging some stupid cliche drama.

Maybe you should've listened to Namjoon's statistical analysis of your dates this year and never bothered going to this meeting as well.

Your mother's recommendations so far had never brought you a man decent enough nor carry an ounce of respect your father has for your mother. Why you still try and date them is a question you've asked yourself one too many times.

His rant was the standard overcompensating life story of a man unfortunate enough to be given an ugly mug and an even uglier fate. A conversation topic you've been subjected to far more often than you'd liked but still smooths out your brain every time you're forced to listen to it. It might not be but it must've been an hour already since he started listing out the same adult milestones he achieved in his 28th year—you've done the same at a younger age, 20 to be exact.

Binwoo reached for your fries shamelessly when his fingers found his bowl empty and you couldn't stop yourself from grimacing this time. 

He was actually decent , compared to the other guys you've met before whose mouth spouted bullshit even the devil himself would gasp at. The man actually bought you a gift and opened and held the door for you.

'How disturbing that you think the bare minimum is a sign of a good man, noona.' A voice suspiciously sounding like Namjoon echoes in your head and you sighed for the nth time that afternoon.

If you weren't so weak against your mother's wishes, you would've been doing work instead of putting up with horrid dates over and over again. You'd willingly take on styling an energetic Jungkook at 6am trying to dodge your brushes and play fights with them then sit in front of another insecure man.

A clang of a metal utensil making contact on the tile took your attention to the two men sitting a few tables in front of you. Suddenly, you're reminded of the lovely bodyguards who have volunteered to watch the mess that is your love life for lunch.

You caught one of their gaze when he looked over his shoulder, pitiful, before kicking his friend's leg and picking up his phone.

Immediately, a vibration rang from your bag and you checked the message as discreetly as you could.

            [13:24] Mimi: I feel so bad for you, noona. Is this really how guys are like these days?             [13:24] Mimi: It's appalling how he thinks finally getting his own space at 28 is impressive.             [13:24] Tete: do you need help? Please say yes, I don't think I can sit through the whole date and hear this bull.             [13:25] Tete: Just seeing it is mentally scarring enough, I can't imagine how you're feeling as the one that has to actually listen.

"Hey, are you still listening? I hope I'm not talking too much." A voice interrupts before you could reply.

Looking up from your phone, Binwoo's face now displayed a sheepish smile, the smear of ketchup on the edge of his lips not going unnoticed. His greasy hand had reached behind his head to scratch the back of his nape and you had to gather every strength in your body to not grimace when the same fingers he ate with met scalp.

You try not to notice how oily and stiff his hair already looked. You really tried.

You shook your head despite wanting it all to end for the sake of appearing respectful and the man immediately continued his empty boasting, the same hand he scratched his neck returning to claw down at your fries without another thought and immediately your phone pings again.

            [13:29] Mimi: did he just              [13:29] Mimi: did he just eat with the same hand he scratched with? On your plate of fries?             [13:29] Mimi: I'm gonna barf             [13:30] Mimi: Please free us from this torture, noona. My heart can only take so much             [13:30] Tete: Screw this, we're going back. I can't do this anymore

A screech of a chair being dragged through tile took your attention back to the masked men in front of you and saw the tall and imposing form of Taehyung marching towards your table, brown beanie hiding his dyed hair and a black mask covering half of his face.

"The fucking gull you have to show your face here after you ran away with my heart last week!"

You sigh internally and hope he's not about to choose an embarrassing trope to follow through this time.

If he takes on another dramatic golden-spooned CEO character who throws tantrums when he can't do or get what he wants, you might just stab yourself with the butter knife next to you. Witnessing and being on the receiving end of his tantrums, even if it's acting, in such a public place like the park once is enough.

With a silent wish that Tae has picked a good trope to follow this time, you followed his lead.

Comically widening your eyes, your gaze bounced from Taehyung and Binwoo with a mystified look before sputtering out a reply.

"Wo-Wooyoung! I thought you went back to the states! How's being home again feels like?"

"Is this how you're gonna be? You're just gonna act like everything's alright after you took my youth ?!"

A couple of gasps erupted from the guests around you, in the seas of scandalized reactions there's a burst of hushed giggles from one guy in black from a particular table and you refrain yourself from glaring at his ducked head and shaking shoulders. The phone pointed in your direction didn't go unnoticed, no doubt recording it all from start to finish to send to the group chat as he always does.

Ever your biggest supporter.

At this point, everyone in the restaurant is looking at the three of you. A glance at Binwoo told you of how close you are to freedom. The man has hunched his shoulders, shrinking into himself, trying to disappear from the public gaze while his eyes busied itself by tracing the details on the tiles. He has long stopped from eating now as he hangs his head in embarrassment, ashamed to be associated with you.

"Hey, I'm sorry man. I didn't know you were like that, in your profile it said that you were experienced in hammering."

"I do woodworking, of course I'm amazing at it!"

You hear a dull thud erupt from two tables over. At the edge of your eyes you see Jimin hitting the table with a closed fist, his giggles a little louder; enough to gather a few confused eyes but quiet enough to limit the range to the patrons next to him.

"I-I'm so sorry."

Binwoo flushes before darting out, towing his black suitcase that looked suspiciously light, away from the eyes of everyone in the restaurant and relief floods your body, muscles relaxing as you watch his form disappear behind the partition between the tables and the exit.

You stare up at Taehyung to find him already looking back at you with crinkled eyes past the dim shades he was wearing, his cheekbones poking above the mask as he smiled.

With your date finally out of the shot, Jimin's laughter explodes into loud cackles of a mad man as he stands, stumbling before he manages to approach you both. When he was close enough, he latched onto Tae's arm to stabilize himself as he held up his phone with the camera app open. Immediately, everyone's displeasure echoed in the room at the implication that the intense scene they just witnessed was a part of a vlog.

Despite how much of a spur of a moment their plan seemed, the duo has managed to construct a simple start and conclusion to their plan and you couldn't be more proud of your smart boys.

Taehyung turned to the mass and bowed.

"I'm sorry for disrupting everyone's afternoon, I was just saving my sister from a bad date and decided to make a vlog out of it. We're really sorry." Taehyung exclaimed.

The disturbed patrons' voices grew louder and angrier, a few attempting to approach your little group to possibly get physical.

Next thing you know, Tae's grabbing the paper gift bag your date has given you earlier before reaching to your and Jimin's hand and pulling you both out of the restaurant at full speed with a wide grin, leaving behind indignant screams of 'YA!' . You couldn't stop the laughter from bubbling out of your chest as you three raced down to the stairs, taking the safer and the long way down. You'd regret the decision later once your age kicks in and the ache on your knees comes but the thrill thrumming under your skin keeps you occupied.

They'd probably ban you from ever entering the establishment but for now, you could care less, the place felt too pretentious for you anyways.

The laughter didn't stop even when you entered Taehyung's car, your joined delight bouncing off the small space and when it ceased, a satisfied silence followed. You and Jimin sag to your seats as the giggles die down, arms clutching your stomachs while Taehyung hunches over the wheel.

Even with how ridiculous the youngest decides on how to go about destroying a date, you couldn't deny the overflowing gratitude you hold for the guy for selling his dignity. Although as an idol with an interesting internet background, you doubt he still has one.

"Wow, that went better than I expected."

"I'm never taking you both to my dates again."

Jimin rolled his eyes at you, lips tugged into a grin. "You say that and take us anyways."

"I'm so glad Tae didn't pull another jealous CEO persona, I was so embarrassed that day!"

"Hey! I still got you out so it's not that bad!" Tae protests, turning to the both of you on the backseat. "At least I didn't act like an embarrassing ex that cried and begged on his knees by the outlook!"

Jimin's swat was quick and Tae hissed and gasped dramatically, cradling his arm as if it was broken by the slap.

"Now he's trying to hit me!"

"Nonetheless, we did so well ruining your dates this month, noona. I think we deserve some reward." Jimin's lips tugged up into a sly smile, eyes glimmering with mischief as he suggestively raised his eyebrows.

"You don't have to tell me twice."

Before you returned home, you had Tae stop by the nearest grilling restaurant to treat the two of them to a couple of orders of meat. If Jimin looked like a kicked puppy upon realizing you've misinterpreted his words, you didn't say anything.

In your defense, he didn't specify what he wanted. Even if he did, you wouldn't have entertained his flirty jokes.

Not a minute longer since the three of you had seated yourselves at a secluded corner at the far back of the restaurant did Jimin's phone ring. You didn't have to look at the screen to know it was Jungkook, ever so eager to hear about how his hyungs managed to scare off your date this time.

He treats it like he was watching those public prank videos on the internet but instead of random targets, it was your dates.

When the video call loads in, you are met with the sight of Jungkook and Jin sharing half the screen while the stylists hands tend to their hairs, stuck deciding between leaving a strand astray from their elevated fringes or keeping it neat.

"Hyung, did you manage to do what you were telling me last time?"

Taehyung grinned. "You should've seen how they all reacted!"

As Taehyung recalled the event with exaggerated movements and expressions—with Jimin adding his extraordinarily unique perspective every now and then—the plates full of meat to grill and bowls of rice you ordered came. Immediately, they were recognized by the waitress who bowed her head at them before shyly asking for an autograph. If you felt her eyes burning a hole through your skull throughout the encounter, you pretend not to notice.

You've introduced yourself as their make-up artist early on in their career, sneaking into their hearts with behind-the-scenes photographs of their idols. A few photographs in exchange of their respect which the boys and the company allowed. Even then, you wouldn't be able to avoid exchanges like these.

Once the waitress was gone, the boys continued to delight the others with their tales. They laughed and expressed their disgust, picking apart your date piece by piece down to his last molecule but as they continued noting down their observations, you started to feel that they're making up random facts out of spite.

Like, what do you mean you saw the guy kept wiggling in his seat to subtly scratch his ass? How did you even see that, Jimin?

But due to them sneaking out to be your guard dogs, they were called to return soon by an unimpressed Namjoon who took over the phone call at some point, threatening them with Hoseok who just laughed in response. You didn't miss the opportunity to rub your week-long rest in their faces with a smile when Taehyung and Jimin tried pouting their way out of punishment.

They ended up being given the chance to at least finish their food before they're given the countdown when Jimin bribed them with takeout.

"Come with us to drink that memory away instead, noona! Hyung and I are better drinking buddies anyways."

You waved Hoseok off. "I don't think Sejin would appreciate me distracting you guys more than I already do."

"Look into my eyes and say that you don't want to drink the memory away!" Yoongi said matter-of-factly from somewhere in the background.

"We won't even drink much, promise!"

"Stop lying to yourself, Hoba. We know you'd tap out after the third glass."  Jin snickered.

"Hey, I've changed! I can do four now."

Before you could further shoot his idea down, your phone flashes open with a ring displaying your mother's name and your heart drops. As if sensing the change in the air, their heads perked up to look at you.

You knew she'll contact you eventually but seeing her name on the screen glare back at you, a shiver wracks down your spine.

"Who is it?" 

"It's my mom."

Jimin and Taehyung gasped, shushing the people on the other line like kids trying to hide a stray pet from their parents who came home as you answered the call.

"Hello my dearest daughter, tell me why the hell did Binwoo's mother just call me to tell me that you've been going around stealing people's youths?! I don't remember raising you to be such a person!"

Despite not having the call on speaker, her rage is loud enough for the other two to hear. Instead of sending pitying looks towards you like a proper friend should, they were grinning and trying to stop themselves from cackling. Your mother's screeching evolved into rapid fire scolding with barely any breathing in between, sending your companions into silent laughter.

You could only glare as Taehyung threw his head back as he guffawed noiselessly while Jimin had hunched over the table, his shaking shoulders being the only indicator that he too was laughing.

Kicking them both under the table, you gathered the courage to interrupt your mother so she could breathe.

"Mom, it was just a friend who wanted to save me from Binwoo."

"A friend?!? A friend my foot! He must be an-uh what do you call it these days—a friend with benefits! Here I thought you've been busy fussing over those Bangtan boys to fool around!"

At this, their ears perked up, attention falling to yours.

"God! If you just started dating them then I wouldn't have to stress myself over finding you a husband!"

Taehyung sobers up, playing with the meat on the grill as he whispers. "Oh I wish auntie but noona is too professi—ow!"

Your foot swiftly connects with his shin and Taehyung hunches over the table, hand disappearing down to cradle his foot.

"I assure you, Mom, if you've seen how he acted, you'd thank your daughter for dodging such a disgusting guy. He didn't even ask me permission to eat my fries!"

"Aishhhhh! If you were here I would've hung you upside down in a sack outside our house! God, I'm gonna have a cardiac arrest because of you!"

"The guy is really my friend, mom! It's the same guy who interrupted my dates before. Remember the crazy CEO?"

"I know I know! But with how picky you are, you'll end up alone! I know you're trying to wait for your soulmate but you're 26 now! You're way past the maximum marking age!"

Taehyung and Jimin fall silent as an awkward silence settles between your group, continuing to place their pork into the leaves and engulfing them almost meekly; almost because the way they ate the wrap is far from graceful.

You've known that for a year now, accepted your fate but the reminder made your heart ache. Imagine how it was for a hopeless romantic, who dreamt of fated meetings and whimsical red strings on your pinkie, to find out that they're untethered. Even then, a small part of you, a much younger version, keeps hoping for a chance that you're just a late bloomer.

Who wouldn't want true love for themselves?

Even a solitary man would crave affection.

"I-I know that. But you can't expect me to settle for less, you wouldn't want to see your dear daughter in a miserable marriage do you?"

There's a deep sigh from the other line and you could imagine your mom pinch the bridge of her nose before she spoke:

"I'm just worried, I hope you understand. I'm not getting any younger. Your older brother and sister already have their own family and seeing them happy while you're still on your own, it hurts this old woman's heart, you know?"

There's a quick succession of dull thuds from across the line and you assumed your mother was hitting her chest with her fist, ever the dramatic.

Jimin flips the newly added meat on the grill, taking the cooked strips to distribute between yours and Taehyung's bowl. It was such a small gesture yet it made your stomach flutter for a second. Always the caring and golden hearted boy you've met years ago that never hesitated to give you hugs and make you smile either with exaggerated movements or from touch alone.

If only there's more Jimin in the world, you would've been married a long time ago and you wouldn't have to deal with your mother's horrible matchmaking.

You sighed. "I know, I'm trying my best so don't worry too much."

"That's my youngest. Now, since you're trying, I have another—"

You pinched the bridge of your nose. "Mom, please."

"I swear this guy is better. He's a lawyer, 30 years old, and he's got a penthouse!"

There's a shrill ding! from your phone and you turned to look at your screen to find yourself staring back at a picture of the suitor your mother was just talking about. In a blink, Jimin and Taehyung have teleported  behind you with side dishes in hand as they peered over your shoulder to look at the photo.

The picture was roughly cropped and showed a man in a tailored black suit leaning against what looks like his mother from how similar the shape of their eyes and lips are. He had his coat hanging from his arm, giving you a full view of how his chest and shoulders filled out his white button up. With a narrow and refined jawline, topped off with good hair waxed into a small quiff and a pair of sunken dimples on each side of his bowstring lips, as an idol's makeup artist, you wondered how it is possible for him to be single.

But what distracted you more was how your mother has sent you someone visually appealing instead of the challenged men she had recommended to you. It's making the ends of the hair on your arm stand up.

It's new and it's creeping you out.

You make a mental note to ask your father about her strange behavior.

"His name is Yoo Guwon, isn't he good looking? His mother and I met at the salon by the market in front of your aunt Jia. I saw him once and he looks exactly like he does in that picture!"

"He looks good."

A hiss following a slap muted by thick clothing erupted from behind you, looking over your shoulder, you see Taehyung staring at Jimin with a shocked and betrayed expression.

"What are you doing?! You're supposed to be against this!"

"Well now that you've mentioned it," Jimin hums, crossing his arms as he leaned closer over your shoulders. "He does look like a manipulator. He has the eye and facial structure for it."

You turned to him with a puzzled expression. "What do you even mean—"

"No no no wait, I can see what you mean." Taehyung butts in, narrowing his eyes as he also inched closer to the screen on the other side of your face before reaching over to expand on the man's face.

You furrowed your eyebrows, still not seeing how a skull's formation could mean manipulator in their eyes. But before you could ask how they came to the conclusion, your mother gasped.

"Is that one of your boys? Taehyung and Jimin?"  

"Yeah, I took them out for some meat since they saved me earlier."

"Oh? Put me on speaker, I want to talk to them!" You obeyed her and hummed a confirmation before holding your phone towards them. "I hope my daughter hasn't disrupted your busy schedules to play jealous exes for her."

Jimin laughs. "It's nothing too much, auntie~ She took great care of us back then, it's just us repaying the debt! Besides, I like watching her fail her dates!"

"Oh aren't you quite mischievous?" Her tone was teasing and delighted as she giggled. "Don't enjoy it too much, okay? My daughter needs to get married soon!"

"Don't worry too much, auntie! I also want our noona to find a good husband!"

"What a sweet boy! Too bad company rules can't let you date, I would've loved you as my son-in-law."

A smile stretched across Jimin's face as he shyly laughed, hiding his delight behind a hand. "You can't say that and expect me to not try and court your daughter, auntie!"

"What about me, auntie? I sold my dignity just to push away her creepy suitors when hyung only sat back to record. I did a lot!" Taehyung jumps in with a pout, feeling left out of the conversation.

"Any of you boys are welcome in my family as long as my daughter is married and treated well! Ok, I'll stop now since I have some friends to meet up with. Visit me soon, my lovely daughter!"

After saying your goodbyes and your i-love-you's, the call ends. Immediately, your phone was fished out from your hands by Taehyung as the two boys returned to their seats, zooming in on Guwon's face and speaking in hushed whispers among themselves. At least until Jin and Jungkook's insistence to be included in the discussion came booming.

"Ya Taehyung! Aren't we friends for so long? Why are you not showing us the picture like a normal friend would do? Forward it to the GC!"

Even after forwarding the picture to the GC, they're still far from pleased after being ignored for so long. Jungkook and Jin didn't spare any words from expressing their wrath, especially the elder. A problem easily buried for everyone to forget with an offer of bringing food when they come home. Your mother expressing her openness to the idea of having any of your bosses as your husband seems to breeze past their heads. You do have an inkling they'll discuss amongst themselves later on.

Soon, Jimin and Taehyung are dropping you at your apartment building, parting ways with hugs before they leave.

Since you've finally claimed some of the absent days you've gathered throughout the years for a nice week off before the eventual tour, you decided to take full advantage of it by treating yourself with a nice night in, stuffing yourself with ice cream and an unhealthy amount of pizzas. Doors locked and blinds shut.

Just you and your TV.

And the generic drama that's playing before you.

It's about a poor girl who got rescued by a handsome rich man who has an obsessed admirer and a family who opposes their relationship despite the soulmate mark they both wore due to their different levels in society.

The trope has been overused but you indulge in it anyways.

But as the night gets deeper and the plot thickens to its climax, you find yourself slowly liking it. Watching the young couple be domestic around their apartment, your heart starts to yearn. Their kisses looked fantastical and sweet, as if the taste of each other could energize them for the whole month. 

You watched as brief passing touches scream louder than words, eyed the way their arms wrapped around waists with jealousy and wondered when you'd be able to experience such a thing too.

Emotional torture is what you're doing but you couldn't find it in yourself to stop watching it.

You remembered how realization felt like plunging into the darkest depths in the ocean, cold and harsh, the pain in your chest when your 21st passed by without any notable changes in your life. 

You recalled how you'd wake up and excitedly look over your skin for a hint everyday with no fail, hoping for a telltale sign that you weren't assigned to a fate of love bare of the genuine and rawness of a soulbond. The devastation gnawing at your dreams when your 21st ends uneventfully and the 22nd comes with the same nothingness still fresh in your mind.

There wasn't a cure for being untethered but you learned soon how to accept your fate. Having your friends comfort you through those years helped. From the maknaes' grounding tight hugs to Yoongi's silent support in the form of distractions and Seokjin's insistence on how unimportant soulmates are, healing came easier with them by your side.

Being untethered or alone isn't a disease cured by human medicine but you think your friends' support came close.

Your phone then vibrates, taking you out of the train of thought you got yourself into, screen lighting up to a message from an unknown user.

            [21:39] Unknown: Hey, it's me Yoo Guwon. Your mother gave me your number and said to contact you first because you might be busy with work.

None of the suitors your mother has brought forth has ever worked out. At this point, you should ask her to stop and try to find a good man yourself.

But none of them ever made the effort to reach out first.

But he's a lawyer and you know damn well what they're good at .

He looks cute and tall though, got a good background as well.

Everyone before him also had that.

With a heavy exhale, you picked your phone up and opened his message.

            [21:40] You: Hello, I'm actually on a week-long break so I'm just rotting on my couch instead haha

"That's too awkward." You muttered to yourself, subconsciously biting your lips as you rephrased the message a couple more times, frantically deleting and adding words onto your ever growing introduction message.

But then it's too wordy, it makes you sound desperate so you deleted it all again, starting once more from the beginning.

You didn't even get to send it when Guwon sent another message.

            [21:48] Yoo Guwon: I'm free tomorrow, I hope you are too. What do you usually like to do?

He's giving me options? You stared at the screen with furrowed eyebrows before narrowing at it suspiciously.

What's up with this guy? Why isn't he taking the lead?

            [21:50] You: I'm more often working and staying at home than visiting places so I don't know where ;-;. I'll go wherever you want to go.             [21:51] Yoo Guwon: It's fine, just send me your address and I'll pick you up tomorrow at 9am, dress formal casual.

Throwing your phone to the side, you reached for the canned beer from your table and took a long sip before titling your head back to stare at the ceiling. There's a careful rise in your heartbeat, a traitorous action of your body. It was hopeful and you hated how you felt like that, you sighed again for the nth time that day but for a different reason.

Your mind takes you back to the mischievous duo, wondering if you should take one of them for this date but find yourself shutting the idea down as quick as it came. The guy looks decent enough for a solo adventure, going alone shouldn't hurt.

Maybe this time will be different.

[httpsserene]

𝐡𝐭𝐭𝐩𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐞'𝐬 𝐟𝟏 𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥

𝘂𝗽𝗹𝗼𝗮𝗱 𝟱: 𝗹𝗲𝘄𝗶𝘀 𝗵𝗮𝗺𝗶𝗹𝘁𝗼𝗻 𝘅 𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿 | 𝘁𝗲𝗻𝗱𝗲𝗿 𝘀𝗲𝘅 & 𝗰𝗼𝗰𝗸𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗺𝗶𝗻𝗴

📖𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆: your husband comes home to his monaco apartment after achieving p2 in spain. from the texts you sent him before he boarded his flight, he expected you to be awake when he arrived. however, you’ve fallen asleep–but that’s not a problem. he’ll sneak into bed right next to you and catch a few extra hours of sleep. you’ll commemorate the podium come morning. 📖𝗰𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗻𝘁 𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴: 18+ only. explicit. vaginal sex. lingerie. marriage. unsafe sex. no pull-out. tender sex. slow and sensual. cockwarming. intimacy. no beta we get disqualified like lewis and charles. not dirty? husband/wife kink (if that’s a thing). more soft. sickeningly sweet (ig). 📖𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱 𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗻𝘁: 1k words. 📖𝗽𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴: lewis hamilton x fem!black!reader 📖𝗴𝗲𝗻𝗿𝗲: oneshot. 📖𝘀𝗼𝘂𝗻𝗱𝘁𝗿𝗮𝗰𝗸: icu • coco jones

𝗽𝗿𝗲𝗳𝗮𝗰𝗲: needed something to soothe the soul after the austin gp disqualifications. this is at the same time the least kinky thing i’ve written so far and the most kinky thing ever. because love feels filthier to write, idk if that makes sense. it’s on the shorter side because i ditched the preamble in order to finish this in time lol, but i dedicate this to my twin @saintwrld :) (it reminds me of her renaissance series :p y'all should check it out @saintslewis) and i hope everyone enjoys it !!!!

do you want to be added to my general taglist? or my f1 kinktober taglist? send me an ask!

cross-posted on my ao3, htppsss

to see what kinktober uploads have already been completed or to see what's coming next check my f1 kinktober masterlist ! for all of my works see my general masterlist!

lewis sighs tiredly as he lies down in bed next to you. the mercedes driver turns on his side facing you, and laughs quietly. your bonnet, of course, has grown a pair of legs and climbed its way off your head and is sleeping on the pillow next to you—your braids fanned out on the pillow underneath you unprotected. lewis carefully wrangles the bonnet back on you and smiles adoringly when he notices that you're wearing the matching bonnet he got you almost nine years ago. and to feel how the matching bonnets makes his heart stutter after spending a decade of his life with you, two of those years being married; he knows being married to you is one of the best decisions he’s ever made. 

he tugs you, his wife, closer; cooing out loud when he notices that you’re clad in one of his tommy hilfiger hoodies, tucking your head under his chin, arms wrapping around you tightly, and legs intertwining comfortably. you hum against his chest, nuzzling deeper into his bare skin, and a faint smile lingers on your lips, and unconscious reaction to having your husband home again. lewis throws his head back groaning, he can’t wake you up now. you had spammed his phone with texts before his flight, promising that he’d get a “surprise” when he got home, for doing so well this weekend—and he doesn’t have the heart to wake you up just so he can fuck you. well, he thinks, he can just get a couple hours of sleep in and then he’ll wake you up and enjoy whatever gift you’ve decided to bless him with and he drifts into sleep.

when lewis wakes up again, the first thing he notices is that he’s slept for way more than a couple hours. the noon sun has brightened the room immensely, and he’s shocked that he managed to stay asleep for so long with how the sun is shining directly on his face. he shifts onto his back, groaning at the soreness left from racing, and glances down at you to see if your still sleeping, and chokes on his breath. his hoodie is rucked up your waist from sleep, exposing your black lace panties, and when he shifts to get a better view of your ass, his body jostles yours and reveals the silver shift of glitter in the fabric. 

“fuck,” lewis murmurs, he’s always been weak for you dressing in his team colors. one of his tattooed hands takes a generous squeeze of your ass, and he wonders if you're wearing the matching top. his grip on your ass may have become a smidge too tight at that thought, because you softly gasp awake. lewis watches as you squirm against him softly, face twisted in confusion, before you make eye contact with him, and you relax. 

you smile sweetly, your left hand rising to rest on his cheek, “welcome home, champ.” lewis laughs at your half-asleep tone, nuzzling his face into your hand, before turning to press a kiss at the ring he put on your finger. “it was only a second-place finisher, love. no need to call me ‘champ.’”

frowning at him, you scoff, “you are still a seven-time world champion, are you not?” lewis concedes to your point; he’s not interested in being scolded by you today—he’s more concerned with unwrapping the present you got him. he hums and noses at your chin before he captures your lips in a dizzying kiss. your lips are languid against each other, there’s no rush in rediscovering the crevices within your mouths. lewis ignores how your teeth tug at his bottom lip, urging him to speed up—he only deepens the kiss, not quickening his pace, coercing you to melt under his passion. 

he pulls away, enjoying how your gaze has transformed from sleep-hazy to lust-hazy. “mmm, is my ‘surprise’ the panties and matching bra you have under my hoodie?” lewis asks you. you nod your head gently, scooting back and pulling the hoodie up to reveal the matching silver-glitter covered black bralette. he moans at the sight of you; perky breasts and nipples hard underneath the lace, your eyes half-lidded in arousal. his hands reach out to grasp at your chest, thumbs dragging over your nipples, causing a shaky moan to fall from your lips at the friction. you reach to pull the hoodie off but lewis grunts in dissent, “nah, keep it on for me. just make sure it stays up, love.”

“ohmygod,” you giggle quietly, “you can just say you’re obsessed with fucking me in your clothes.”

lewis rolls his eyes at you, “okay: i’m obsessed with fucking you in my clothes. i love the way you smell like me after, i love the way your smell lingers when i wear them after you, i love the way you look in my clothes; if i could choose, i wish you’d only ever wear my clothes and have pretty lingerie underneath them all the time.”

you stare at him wide-eyed, not expecting him to flip your teasing words in that manner, maybe that’s why your panties suddenly feel a little wet. you bite your lip, trying to think of a way to regain the upper hand, and lewis clocks your eyes brightening.

“i fingered myself open for you last night. i’m sure you could still slip in, if you’re up for it.”

lewis chuckles, half-crazed, and murmurs, “if i’m up for it? promise me, if i ever say no to having sex with you that you’ll take me to see a doctor?”

you hum, hand shifting to rub at the nape of his neck, “i promise, baby. can you fuck me now—i fell asleep waiting for you last night.”

lewis quickly gets to work positioning your body. he spins you around to your side, your back pressed against his chest, and spreads your thighs open with his knee. you moan at his easy manhandling, and press your ass back to grind against the tent in his boxers. he encourages the movement of your hips, even directing the grind for a few beats before he halts your motions. his hand slips in between the two of you, and tugs his dick out. he pulls your panties to the side and slowly slips into you. your mouth drops open in a silent moan, overwhelmed by the stretch from his dick spreading you open. lewis sighs deeply as he bottoms out within you, and kisses you on the shoulder. he stays still, allowing you the time you need to adjust. you shift your hips gently, testing the feel, and hum in assent.

lewis moves his hand to find yours, and locks them over your navel, using them to pull you as close to his body as he can. he whispers softly, “can we take it nice and slow today? i want to make love to you today.”you hum, and it shifts to a whine as his hips gently rock into yours, and whimper out, “it’s your present—can use it however you want.” 

lewis keeps the motion of hips slow and controlled, pulling out halfway before sinking in as deep as he can reach. it’s stunning how you can feel every bit of love lewis puts into his thrusts, seeping into you. he continues to pepper kisses on your neck and shoulder, and slips his other arm underneath you, and moving your body slowly so you twist back further, exposing your chest to him again. the hoodie remains bunched under your armpits, and lewis tugs the bralette down underneath your chest, causing your breasts to spill out lewdly over the top. his hand rests over your chest, not groping in any manner, just holding you close, feeling how your heartbeat speeds up from his movements.

in the decade you’ve been in a relationship with lewis, you’ve had some life-changing sex. but, for some reason, the slow and sensual sex has to be your favorite. it feels restorative, like he’s breathing life back into your body, with every deep thrust he’s showing you how much he loves you. and he’s not afraid to say it either.

“i love you, so much—you’re so good to me—my wonderful wife—all for me—all mine—i’ll make you feel so good, love—forever, yeah—you and me, like this—i win everything for you—“

you rock back against him, always weak when he can help but run his mouth, and start rambling back to him, mouth loose from the pleasure he continues to give to you, “my oh! my husband—only you for me, yeah?” he moans into your neck, he doesn’t think he’ll ever get used to you calling him your husband. 

there’s no telling how long the two of you are wrapped together, neither you are in any rush to reach a climax—you both crave the intimacy sex like this provides, especially after he’s been away. your orgasms crest over your bodies slowly but they’re more satisfying than any other release you could get from rough sex. lewis continues to grind his dick in you as deep as he can, not making any motion to pull out, and ignores the building sensitivity he’s feeling. 

lewis smiles at the blissed out look on your face, and watches how you struggle to open your eyes; he’s been fucking you back to sleep this whole time—that would explain why your rambles disappeared as you got closer to your peak. he tugs the hoodie back down over your chest, and one-handedly drags the duvet to cover your bodies, not wanting you to get cold. “hey, love,” he calls softly, “do you want me to pull out and clean you up?” you shake your head, and turn back onto your side fully, pressing you back to his chest again, and you start to doze off. lewis rubs at your waist gently, soothing you further into sleep—he’s never going to say no to having you keep his dick warm. 

lewis carefully reaches towards the nightstand and grabs his phone, and quickly sets an hour alarm. he won’t let himself be fooled by the call of sleep and let the whole day fly by, like he did last night—he’d rather not be awoken by his angry wife screaming about uti’s and whatnot. he’ll just bathe in the afterglow while you sleep soundly; he just wants to look after you a little longer.

taglist: @lorarri @soph1644 @jaydensluv @fanboyluvr@nissaimmortal @redgonerogue @hollie911 @saintwrld @buendiabebeta @butterfly-lover @lana-d3l-rey @dylan1721 @spicybagel14 @dhhdhsiavdhaj @miahgonzalez16 @jjaekin @dkbj14 @f1lover55 @f1lov3r @mindless-rock @biancathecool @barnestatic @sweetpiccolo-blog @my-ylenia @zaynzierulez @reblog-princess-blog @lovingaphroditesworld @katekipshidze @darleneslane

© httpsserene 2023

[callmeagardengnome]

𓆩 bless me 𓆪 - chapter 13

w.c - 2.8k

pairings - demon!ateez ot8 x demon! fem! reader

genre - demon au, hint of royal au, possible yandere themes (?), romance, slow burn

synopsis: as hell's receptionist, you only wished to talk shit and stay out of trouble. yet, you happened to be the one that the two social clans in hell start fighting for.

c.w - dark themes, knives

not proofread!

previous / next

masterlist

Time froze as Seonghwa pressed you against the cold wall, his switchblade just under your chin. “How long have you been planning this?” he asked bitterly. “How elaborate is this foolish scheme of yours?”

You squirmed under the blade, wincing. “I don’t kno-”

“You don’t know?” Seonghwa sneered. He dug the blade deeper into your skin, enough to draw a line of blood. “Convenient answer for someone as-”

“-Stop,” Mingi interrupted, his voice hoarse as he tried to rise to his feet once more, gripping the bars for support. “Put the blade down now.”

Seonghwa scoffed, not even sparing him a glance as he kept his eyes on you. “Are you going to be a nuisance the whole time?”

“Yes,” Mingi said. “If you keep hurting her.”

Seonghwa rolled his eyes. “How noble.”

Without warning, he grabbed your arm harshly, dragging you away from the chamber. You tripped, stumbling over your feet as Mingi shouted raspily behind you.

“Where are you taking her?” his voice echoed.

Seonghwa looked back with a cruel smirk. “Out of your reach.”

His grip tightened as he dragged you down the tunnel, away from Mingi’s reassuring presence. Seonghwa pulled you closer to him, his breath against your ear as he leaned in.

“I wonder if he knows how close you are to Yunho.”

Your eyes widened and you tried to push against his grip. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

He didn’t answer.

“Hello?” you pressed on.

He only tightened his hold, dragging you faster as his pace quickened. The wind from the speed hit your face until you were shoved into what appeared to be a lavish bedroom. The abrupt stop made you cough as Seonghwa kicked the door shut and threw you into a chair.

You barely had time to process anything before the switchblade was back, its pointed tip now pressing against your forehead.

“Duke, don’t you think this is unnecessary?” you tried to reason with him, your voice trembling slightly.

“Oh, this is completely necessary,” Seonghwa spat, his face inches away from yours. “How could you betray the King like this?”

“What are you talking about?” You let out a frustrated breath. “You knew that I wasn’t on your side.”

“It’s bad enough being a traitor, but helping another one? In the Palace? Are you insane?” he snapped, his voice rising.

“You can’t possibly believe that we’d kill Mingi like that,” you said, irritated.

Seonghwa’s jaw clenched, his breathing becoming uneven. “Do you have any idea what this means for us?”

The blade trailed down to your chin, forcing your head up. “Every day, I watch more and more Eternals turn against the King,” his voice cracked. “Whether it’s Mingi or any other idiotic demon.”

You opened your mouth to respond, but his grip on the blade tightened as he continued. “And I can’t help but think that you’re the cause of all of this.” 

You stared at him. “Did you really think that this would all end well?”

“Yes,” he replied with no hesitation. “Everything ends well. For the Eternals, at least.”

The pause that followed was heavy.

His eyes blinked repeatedly when he realised how close he was to you - and for a moment, something unreadable flashed across his face. Seonghwa backed away suddenly, the blade lowering as he took a step back.

“I didn’t think you were stupid enough to help those.. pests,” Seonghwa said. “What would you even achieve from this? A badge? A trophy? You’re not a saint.”

“Come on,” you sighed wearily. “At this point, I have to beg you to open your eyes. Why are you so blind to the fact that the Halas did nothing wrong?”

“They’ve done many wrong things,” he scoffed.

You raised an eyebrow. “Oh yeah? Like what?”

“Stealing land,” he stated.

“No, that was you guys,” you denied.

Seonghwa’s brows furrowed. “They’re aggressive-”

“-They wouldn’t be that way if you guys didn’t attack them every century,” you cut him off.

“They hate us,” he said. “I’m sure they would harm us if they could.”

“Because the Eternals harmed them first.”

Seonghwa blinked. He brought the switchblade back to your chin, though his movements were almost hesitant now. “You think you’re funny?”

“Who told you all these things about the Halas?” you asked.

He paused.

“...The King,” he said hesitantly.

His eyes burned into yours as the silence stretched between the two of you. You would have felt pity for him if he didn’t hold a literal blade to your chin at that moment.

“Why would you believe him?” you asked softly.

“...Because he’s the only one that believes in me,” Seonghwa whispered, so quietly that you almost missed it.

His breathing slowed down as he lowered his knife completely, sitting on the edge of his bed. His shoulders slumped like he was beginning to see cracks in his beliefs.

You stood up, dusting off your cloak. “I’m leaving.”

He didn’t look at you, his brows furrowing as his thoughts spiralled. 

“I hope you open your eyes to see that the Halas aren’t the bad ones here,” you said, moving to leave. “Wake up, Seonghwa. The King is using you.”

.𖥔 ݁ ˖⊹₊ִ ࣪𖤐๋࣭ ⭑⊹₊ 𖥔.

Wooden training swords clashed against each other in the training hall. You stumbled back, wiping the sweat from your face as you tried to hold your stance. Jongho stood infront of you, barely out of breath.

“How-” you gasped. “How the Hell are you so strong?”

A small smile tugged at Jongho’s lips as he watched you drop to the floor, sprawling on your back. The floor beneath you felt cool to your heated skin.

“You’re pretty strong too,” he shrugged. “If only you had more stamina.”

“That’s it,” You waved him off, panting. “I’m done.”

“Come on, one more round,” he clapped his hands together, a grin forming.

“No- I actually can’t,” you said, lifting your head slightly off the ground. 

Jongho crouched beside you, his arms resting on his knees. “I’m sure you can,” he smirked.

“Ask Wooyoung. Or San,” you suggested, still trying to catch his breath. “I’m sure San would be thrilled to spar with you.”

“Maybe,” Jongho replied, chuckling. “But it’s not as fun.”

You exhaled sharply. “I can’t-”

“Just one more round,” he said. “Please?”

You groaned, knowing that he was not taking ‘no’ for an answer. With a cough, you pushed yourself off of the floor. “Fine. But if you ask for another after this, I’m fighting you for real.”

The next round was brutal. Jongho didn’t even bother to go easy on you. You gave it your all, your muscles screaming in protest. By the time it was over, you collapsed to the ground once again.

Jongho sat cross-legged beside you. He looked over at you. “Sorry, I think I went too far,” he admitted, his eyes softening slightly.

“It’s okay,” you muttered between your gasps for air. “Just let me rot here..”

He chuckled, leaning back on his hands as the two of you sat in silence. After a while, you lifted your head to look at him. “You can go back if you want.”

Jongho raised an eyebrow. “Really?”

“I mean it,” you insisted. “I’ll be fine.”

Without a word, Jongho stood up and walked away, leaving the room. You closed your eyes, trying to focus on your breathing. But after a few minutes, you heard the door creaking open. You turned your head - and there he was again.

Jongho held up a few apples as he walked towards you.

“I don’t-”

“Just take them,” he cut you off.

You sighed but reached out, taking one. The bite was crisp and refreshing, something you desperately needed after that horrid sparring session. Jongho sat next to you, biting into one of them himself.

The two of you ate in silence. And after all these crazy things happening to you, you finally felt like you had a break.

.𖥔 ݁ ˖⊹₊ִ ࣪𖤐๋࣭ ⭑⊹₊ 𖥔.

Wooyoung rolled around in your bed, a little too comfortable for someone that just barged into your room. 

“I’m so jealous,” he grumbled, tossing his arms behind his head. “Why is your room as big as the barracks we sleep in?” 

You shrugged. “I’m just that good.”

He rolled his eyes, grabbing one of your pillows before throwing it at you. You were about to throw the pillow back when you suddenly heard a knock on the door. Both of you froze, staring at each other. 

“Who is that?” Wooyoung whispered. 

“I don’t know, but you’re not supposed to be here,” you gestured to the bathroom. “Hide.”

Without wasting a second, Wooyoung scurried to the bathroom, quickly shutting the door. You smoothed out your clothes and opened your bedroom door to reveal.. Yunho. 

“Hey..” you greeted confusedly. You peeked out into the hallway, checking if either Hongjoong or Seonghwa were around. “Are you okay? Do you need something?”

“I-“ he began, toying with the sleeves of his blazer. “I need to talk to you about something,” he said, though it sounded more like a question than anything. 

“Yeah, of course,” you said, leaning against the doorframe. 

He blinked. “Uh- I meant inside.”

You paused, your eyebrows shooting up. “Oh.”

Before you could invite him in, Wooyoung’s head popped out from behind the bathroom door. Yunho’s eyes narrowed immediately. 

“I see you have company,” Yunho coughed out. He took a step back. “Forget it, we’ll talk later.”

“Nonono,” Wooyoung said, walking over to the door. “I’m sure whatever you need to say to her, you can say to me as well.”

Yunho looked visibly annoyed. “I don’t think-“

“I think,” Wooyoung interrupted, putting his arm on your shoulder. “It’s perfectly fine for you to talk to her. As long as I’m here.”

Your eyes pleaded for Yunho to just go along with it. Yunho looked at you, then Wooyoung. “Fine,” he muttered.

As the three of you walked into the room, Yunho sighed heavily. “What is he doing here?”

“Well-” you began before pausing, glancing at Wooyoung. “Honestly, I don’t know. He kinda just appeared.”

Wooyoung sat on the chair in the corner of the room, tilting his head. “What’s wrong with two demons hanging out?” he asked, his eyes locked on Yunho.

“Nothing,” Yunho crossed his arms, glaring right back at him. “Except for the fact that you’re hanging out in her bedroom.”

“You-”

“-What do you need, Yunho?” you cut in, hoping that the two of them would stop. You sat on the edge of your bed and watched as Yunho stood stiffly, still fidgeting with his sleeves.

Yunho took a deep breath, pulling a folded piece of paper from his blazer. “Someone slid this under my door,” he said, handing it to you.

You opened it, raising an eyebrow when you saw elegantly written words on it:

‘Tell your girlfriend that I will assist her in reckless endeavours to help the roaches of Hell - under the condition that my actions will not bring harm to the King. If her plans stray beyond this boundary, my assistance will cease immediately, together with my tolerance for her life.

Do not make me regret this decision.’

“Seonghwa…” you breathed out. 

You looked over the note again, re-reading it to check if you were just seeing things. While you did find it questionable that he referred to you as Yunho’s ‘girlfriend’, something else bothered you.

“Wait-” Your head snapped up, narrowing your eyes on Yunho. “Why would he give this to you?”

Yunho swallowed the lump in his throat.

“I.. had a conversation with him two nights ago,” he confessed, his posture uneasy. “Trying to convince him to be more.. open-minded about loyalty.”

You leaned forward, urging him to continue. “And?”

Yunho sighed. “He kept going on about how we had no power, no plan- no way of getting away with this. I thought showing him the chambers would prove we’re smarter than he thinks.”

Your stomach dropped. “Are you serious?” you nearly shouted, standing abruptly. “You’re the reason I almost died.”

“Died?” Wooyoung exclaimed, rising from his chair. He cracked his fingers as he glared at Yunho. “Oh I knew you were shitty-”

“He wouldn’t kill her,” Yunho scoffed. “He’s not brave enough for that.”

“He was brave enough to hold a knife to my neck after realising Mingi was alive,” you shot back.

Yunho bit the inside of his cheek. “To be fair, I didn’t tell him that part.”

You groaned, your hands running through your hair as you slowly sat back down onto your bed. “I need a moment to think about this.”

A silence fell over the three of you before Wooyoung spoke up. “This is when you leave.” 

Yunho hesitated, reaching for the note before you slapped your hand over it. “Leave it here,” you demanded.

He nodded reluctantly, standing and walking to the door. Just before leaving, he glanced back at you - his eyes softening with concern. Then he was gone, the door clicking shut behind you.

You heard a ‘tsk’ as Wooyoung walked towards you. “This is exactly why I don’t trust him,” he muttered, his voice bitter.

You glared at him as he picked up the note, reading it. You saw how his brows furrowed as something strange flashed in his eyes before he set it back down.

“Just saying, if that were me,” he added quietly, pointing to where Yunho just left. “I would never put you in that situation.”

.𖥔 ݁ ˖⊹₊ִ ࣪𖤐๋࣭ ⭑⊹₊ 𖥔.

The quiet rustle of paper cranes filled the room, folding and unfolding in your hands as you sat at Hongjoong’s desk. Seonghwa was nowhere to be seen and Hongjoong was seated across from you, completely focused on the documents infront of him.

As you dropped the crane into the jar - you noticed something.

A ring. On the King’s hands.

There was something disturbingly familiar about it.

The piece of metal on his ring finger caught your attention. Was he married? From what you knew of the Royals, you were sure that he wasn’t. Also, the ring looked weirdly cheap and old. Would the King really wear something as inexpensive as that?

The longer you stared at it, the more your surroundings melted around you - your mind transporting you to a dream-like place. Or a memory.

The feeling of demons pushing past you came back. The sounds haggling grew louder as merchants and shopkeepers yelled for demons to come to their stalls.

Though despite this, a small shop caught your eye. A display of trinkets and jewelry, all made with cheap copper and brass.

Your fingers brushed over a simple copper ring, the metal warm to the touch under the blistering sun. It was small and simple - something that you knew wouldn’t get stolen by other demons.

“I’ll take this one,” you said, placing a few coins on the table. 

As you slipped the ring onto your finger, the world seemed to shift and you found yourself in the office, in the middle of folding a crane. 

You blinked, trying to brush off that memory of yours. It wasn’t that significant, was it?

But as you folded another paper crane, your eyes darted to Hongjoong’s hands again. The ring stirred a strangely intense feeling of deja vu.

“...Where did you get that ring from?” you asked, your mouth moving before you could think.

Hongjoong froze. The slight widening of his eyes betrayed his surprise, though he quickly recovered. He touched the ring briefly, almost unconsciously, as he lowered the file.

He tilted his head, his eyes narrowing on you. “What happened to your chin?”

You instinctively touched the sore cut under your chin, wincing slightly at the reminder of your conversation with Seonghwa. “I fell-”

Before you could finish, a knock was heard. Seonghwa entered, though he paused when he noticed the tension in the room. He walked over to his chair, sitting down slowly. 

Hongjoong’s eyes shifted from you to Seonghwa. Without a word, he rose from his seat and walked over to the Duke.

In one swift motion, Hongjoong snatched the switchblade from Seonghwa’s belt. You held your breath as he turned the blade over in his hands, studying it intently.

Hongjoong walked back to you, his footsteps echoing softly against the carpet. Gently, he held your chin with one hand, tilting it upward so the light shined on the scar. The unexpected softness of his touch sent a jolt through your spine. His eyes darted between the wound and the blade, comparing the line of the cut to the edge of the weapon.

“Hm,” you heard him say as he stepped away. With a flick of his wrist, he tossed the blade back onto Seonghwa’s lap.

Seonghwa managed to catch the weapon, his face filled with worry as his jaw twitched.

Hongjoong returned to his seat, his eyes lingering on Seonghwa for a moment too long before he shifted his attention back to you.

He nodded toward the sheets of square paper scattered on the desk, finally speaking up. “Fold.”

remember to like repost and comment! i love reading all of them, so feel free to comment as much as you want! any and all feedback appreciated <3

series taglist [OPEN] - @binchanluvrr @hiddlestandom @avantalem @hecateslittlewitchling @iara-ya @thunderous-wolf @jaerisdiction @mallielovssyou @syzygyweeb @dime29 @marsofeight @doitforbangchan @shotaswife @soulphoenix1618 @justalittlegirl27 @minakooo @nqyzhuo @symmieangela @miyaluvvsyou @pirana10 @arilevenatz @darkmiraclefest @eighttens @lightwxodd @non-return @yunhossilverlight @levishun @sunkissedchocobeauty @nuggiesnuggetdog04

[yuriisclumsy]

Sending in a request for a Genshin or Lout fic! I’ll give you a few prompts you can choose from (you only need to pick one) and write a fic for who you think suits it best!

intuition, obvious, (il)logic, test, levity

((thank you so much and no rush!!)) - @paimonial-rage

Intuition

𝚆𝚘𝚛𝚍 𝙲𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝: 2058

[Authors Note]: OMG I'm so sorry guys for the late update! Something went wrong and now is now I figured it out. So here you go! It took me a while to figure this one out, but I managed to get something going. This is a gift for another blog, @paimonial-rage! They do Genshin requests (fanfiction with reader insert) for anyone interested.

»»►Cale has an intuition that [Name] is in danger.

»»►...

»»►What?

»»►That’s all I’m telling you, no spoilers for you!

The high walls of the Roan Kindom’s palace stood the testament of war being waged at its firmament. It had been many a time someone dared to destroy it, but none came close to achieving their goal.

Not when there was a great commander in charge.

In one of the many rooms withholding secrets never to shed light to the world in the palace, stood two esteemed figures; one, bearing the crown, the other, his most trusted friend and sworn-brother.

“Cale, Cale, what will I be without you?” The ever-loved crown prince–now king–asked.

“You’d still be a crown prince fighting to retain the crown, Alberu,” Cale sipped his tea nonchalantly, ignoring the unamused face he was getting.

Alberu sighs from the otherwise boring reaction. “Even after all this time, you’re still trying to piss me off. And here I thought that perhaps marrying that  girl would make you more sensible.”

“Then you guessed wrong, my king,” Cale slightly vowed.

“Stop that.”

“Of course, Your Majesty,” he gave a polite smile.

Alberu shook his head and let out another sigh. This won’t stop until Cale won, so it was simpler to just surrender. “How is married life going for you?” He took his tea and blew to calm it.

“It's actually going well,” Cale responded, thinking back on his experience so far.

He got married a while ago, two months ago, to be precise. It had been slow, sharing the same room with someone, but they had adjusted just fine ...aside from the fact that his wife moves a bit too much when she sleeps. Cale learned to either build a fortress of pillows that separated them or hug her the whole night–though this option comes with sweat greeting them the next morning.

“I’m still not used to her being in my—our room,” he corrected himself. “And when will you get a wife, huh? Don’t you think the kingdom deserves a queen?”

Alberu threw daggers at him mentally, hoping he’d drop dead where he stood. “Haha…funny.” He placed the cup down on the table where the saucer was. “Although…it would be nice to have someone to share my troubles with,” he looked Cale in the eyes when saying that.

Liar. You want me to ask so I can fix your messes, Cale thought, internally scuffing at the man.

He put in his diplomatic smile. “Oh, but your highness. You always can share your concerns with me, your most loyal subject. I can assure you that even the future queen would agree with me.”

“Ha! You’re a bastard through and through,” Alberu crossed his arms in amusement.

Yeah, right. The only bastard here is you—! Cale’s cup fell lento, as if time had slowed down entirely.

Alberu’s eyes widened in surprise, “Cale, are you okay?” He stared at Cale to see if it was another of his antics but he looked completely still, with his face growing paler by the second. The king shot up thinking of the worst. “Damn it! Is it poison?!” He checked the teapot for any unusual smells.

“No, no,” Cale patted the king, who by now was by his side, to calm down. “I just…had a shiver run down my spine.”

His sworn brother remained silent for a short moment, and then his mouth opened. “If it were a mare shiver, you wouldn't have reacted like that. Cale, I know you. And the you, I know, doesn’t fear much.” He grabbed Cale by the arms, “now tell me, what made you react in such a way?”

“...” Cale looked at him and then at the floor, unsure of what to tell him.

“Cale…” Alberu shook him a little, firming his hold a bit more, to show that he was there if it were something bad.

“*sigh*...I got this feeling…” he paused, inhaling grimly, “that something bad is going to happen to [Name]. But, it’s just a feeling. It’s probably my overthinking, you needn't worry about it.”

Alberu was at a loss for words. Yes, with fame and power, came great danger. But he didn’t think that his friend–his brother-in-arms–would be so unworried for a thought like that.

No… He was more worried about it than he let on.

He released his hold on Cale, straightening himself.

“Alberu?” Cale looked up from the loss of pressure, “did something happen?”

“...You need to go,” he said.

“What?”

“You need to go,” he repeated.

Cale could only stare, not sure why he was saying that. “But…why?” He looked like a small child who had lost their mother in the market and was asking for help from a stranger with a sad look on their face.

“Oh, for heaven's sake…” Alberu’s hands clutched themselves to Cale’s coat, “damn it, you dense donkey! You had a thought about your wife being hurt, you need to go, and make sure she’s in perfect shape like the good husband you are!!"

At this point some of the knights were hearing the commotion inside but dared not intrude on the scolding from a mother to their child, it brought trauma none of them wished to relive.

“So you will stand up,” he brought Cale to his feet, “and go to your wife!!”

And that’s how Cale Henituse, the great commander of the Roan Kingdom, was promptly kicked out and banned from entering the castle until the king received notice of his wife’s safety.

Cale gawked at the castle for a few minutes after that. He looked like a fish out of the water: stupid.

He sighed out of his daze. “Ron?” He turned to his butler who accompanied him on his trip.

“Yes, young master?” Ron vowed.

“Get me home as fast as you can,” he ordered as he opened the carriage doors and climbed in, shutting the door in the process.

“As you wish, Master Cale,” Ron got up to the carriage’s coachman seat. Taking the leach of the horses, he made a swift movement, and the horses were galloping towards the exit.

The path home was peaceful. Yes, there were a few pours here and there, but that was only for a bit. What could not find rest, was the man inside the carriage.

He fidgeted sporadically, his leg went up and down in impatience, and his eyes fixated on the outside where they could see the slightest glance of his territory's walls. Anything that could calm his unease.

I should have brought Raun with me, or a magic item that could teleport me back faster. He thought of all the things he could have done to fasten the transportation to his manor.

The sight of walls and a flag in the distance made Cale happy.

Home. Alas, he was closer to his wife.

The carriage passed the high gates of the city, not needing to check inside for threats when the man who had saved them plenty of times was inside. The knights saluted as he entered.

Arriving at the manor, he dismounted the carriage walking to the entrance. A few servants waited right outside the door, vowing to greet their master. He stopped just as he passed the doors, making his two trusted butlers look at him: one in worry, and the other in amusement.

“Master Cale?” Hans called. “Is something the matter?”

“...Ron,” he said his butler's name without looking back.

“Yes, Master Cale?”

“Can you do me a favor, and go hunting for a few loud quails?” He said.

Ron smirked. “As you wish, Master Cale,” he vowed before turning and leaving the manor.

“Quails?” Hans asked, “But we already have plenty of them.” His eyes widened, “please don’t tell me what I think that is referring to…”

Cale continued to the gardens where he knew his wife would be. “Don’t worry about Hans. You’re not the one getting their hands dirty with animal feathers,” he said with a smile.

“Please don’t smile when you say that…” he looked nauseous.

…

The wind blew swiping and budging any object its strength could move. The wind chime followed the rhyme of the calm breeze as it passed through. Soft humming that sounded like they belonged to a fairy filled the air of the manor’s garden. It came from the lady of the house; a beautiful and delicate flower, who married the lout son of the family.

She lowered herself to be a few inches from the bed of flowers planted for her by her husband's wishes;.He planted them for her happiness; she loved flowers as much as she loved him. 

Her hands lifted a white tulip, her eyes observed its color and physique. “You have grown from the last time I saw you,” she songily whispered. “Cale would be happy to see you like this.”

People often gossiped how, in their eyes, she took care of the plants like if they were her children. Yet, they know not that these small greeneries are as alive as any other living creature. They can call her crazy all they want, for she already found someone that loves her. Even if he did find this fixation of hers a little odd.

“Happy to see who?” a voice asked from behind.

Her head turned to see who it was that questioned her, but her smile made it clear that she knew who it was that asked.

“Cale,” she said his name, love surrounded his name. She stood up to greet her one and only husband. “You’re back so soon, I thought you said you would be in the capital for 10 days.”

“Something came up for the king, so I decided to come back,” Cale embraced her warmth. She smelled like the flowers she loved.

She returned the hug by wrapping her arms around him, “you missed me that much?”

“Shut up,” he scuffed and let go of her.

She giggled in response. “Hehehe, didn’t you though?” her eyes met his, “you missed your wife so much, that you came running here.”

“As if. I had no other business in the capital other than meeting with his majesty.” Excuses. His wife could tell. He might think that he's not that easy to read, but for her, he was like a poster in a billboard right in the public's eyes.

“Sure, sure…I believe you.”

“No, you don’t, [Name].”

“Yes I do!” She pouted.

“Master Cale,” Ron made himself known as he walked towards them.

“Ron!” [Name] ran to the old butler. “Ron, won’t you agree that Cale came back so quickly because he loved his wife so much, he couldn't spend a single day more in the capital?” She asked, dramatizing the whole thing to embarrass her husband.

Ron had the smile only a demon could have when they had their enemies greatest weakness.

“Don’t you dare,” Cale warned.

“Oh, but I must agree with Lady [Name],” he closed his eyes, “The young master whined the whole way here. “Oh, how I wish I was next to my wife. My sweet, and beautiful, [Name]...”” Ron was mocking him. And there was nothing he could do about it.

Damned old man…

“I see, I see…” she nodded along. She was enjoying this far too much.

“Okay, that’s it,” he stepped towards them and grabbed her by the arm, “we’re leaving.”

“Awe, if you wanted to have me all to yourself you can always ask,” [Name] placed a hand on her check, cooing at Cale.

“Why did I marry you?”

“Because you love me!” She gave him the happiest smile she had; the same one she had on their wedding day; the same one she had when he asked her to marry him; the same one she had when he pronounced his love. It was her normal smile.

“...” Cale had a blush on his face. He caught the smug smile from Ron, and that just made him instantly frown, ruining the beautiful moment. “Let's go,” He continued to pull her along. She giggled at his antics.

“Oh, Ron?” he halted.

He smiled, “Yes, young master?”

“Did you finish your hunt?”

Ron’s smile widened. “Yes. We’ll be having 6 quails for dinner.”

“Great,” he resumed his pace.

“Wait, I thought it was beef for dinner today.”

“That too.”

“???”

Fin

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Master-List

[jeoncasino]

Prospects

⋆ †₊ 0.1

Tired of life and all it had to bring for you, things take a turn when you find out two of your friends start to take a liking to you. With newfound emotions and a whole lot of drama, what happens when they start competing for your love?

Pairings: JJK x fem! reader [x KNJ]

Genre: college au, love triangle, friends to lovers, fluff, angst, slow burn, eventual smut.

Tags: rich! jjk, law student! jjk, dark hair! jjk, sweet! jjk, jealous! jjk, needy! jjk, obsessed! jjk, but also dom! jjk, slightly toxic! jjk, english major! knj, boy bsf! knj, co-worker! knj, husband material! knj, brown hair! knj, sweet! knj, jealous! knj, sad knj:(, pet names, everything’s so complicated and everyone’s in denial, jk's love language is physical touch and acts of service, jk has mommy issues so he's too attached to oc, joonie is so sweet i feel bad for him, gguk will try everything in his power to make oc his, ggukkie lowkey hates joonie lol, this is an actual slow burn yay!

Warnings: mentions of drug use.

⋆ †₊ Series Masterlist

Minors do not interact.

Smoke surrounds you. For a moment, the noises and lights from the party, once a chaotic blend, seperate distinctly. Each sound creates its own frequency, each beam of light cutting through the haze in sharp lines. Everything around you slows down, the moment captivating you in a trance that would otherwise not been achieved without smoking a certain plant.

Elaine, your best friend, who was sitting to your left, seems to be talking to you. You can't quite grasp what she's saying, but she leaves shortly afterward, leaving you alone in the beautiful backyard of this otherwise dirty frat house. You really were avoiding going inside—the floors were sticky, and it smells funky. Honestly, you didn’t even want to be there. Frat parties aren’t your thing. But Elaine, in apparent need of de-stressing (though later confessing she just wanted to see her latest infatuation, Zia), had dragged you out on a Thursday night. You thought about getting mad and leaving, but she’s your best friend—and every guy here looks like they’d spike her drink—so you stayed. Plus, she bought you a blunt, so it evened out.

As you gazed at the dark-glowing canvas of the night sky, you felt a presence beside you. Skeptically, you glanced to your right, only to find a man staring at you. You jumped.

“Oh my god?” you gasp, eyes wide, hand over your heart.

The guy laughs, clearly amused by your reacton. Trying to figure him out, you took a look at him. He wore a loose white shirt and baggy jeans. Dark hair framed his face. Two rings pierced the right side of his mouth, his right arm covered in tattoos. Honestly, you felt intimidated—frat parties drew all kinds of people, you know? But when you finally met his eyes, the softness of his gaze made him seem far more approachable then you originally thought.

“Will you quit staring?” He teased.

Your cheeks burned. “Oh please, I’m on drugs,” you muttered, looking away, “Don’t flatter yourself.”

“Oh, I know. Thought I’d join you on your trip.”

Confused, and extremely thirsty, you asked, “Who are you?”

“Seriously?” He replied, somewhat annoyed. “Jeon Jeongguk. We share a class—U.S History with Mrs. Webster,” He paused, anticipating an answer. He met silence. “No?”

You sighed. “Look, I’m sorry, but I’m too high to remember anyone from that class.” Thinking it over, you added, “Seriously, though, I don’t think I’ve ever talked to you.”

And that’s because you hadn’t. Jeongguk, though quite popular, found himself completely partner-less tonight. He didn’t like being alone, so when he spotted you, high and alone, he thought he’d try his usual trick with you—pretending he knew you from somewhere. It usually worked.

Not today though. At your response, he was utterly offended. Did you seriously not know who the Jeon Jeongguk was? Even he recognized you—the sharing a class part not being a lie—so it made no sense. Although, he didn’t know your name either, so maybe you did know him, just not his name, and the drugs are clouding him from your memory.

Yeah, he thought, it’s definitely the drugs. “Did you know marijuana causes memory issues?”

You snorted. “Just say you’re offended.”

He shrugged. “What’s got you all alone out here?”

“My horny friend, I guess.” You turn to face him. “You?”

“I was taught to never leave a pretty girl like you alone,”

“Okay, Mr. Charming, please be serious.”

He laughed. “My friends ditched me too.”

“Hm,” You didn’t know what else to say. Usually, you were good at small talk, but you were literally in cloud nine and too thirsty to properly think. “Do you mind getting me some water? I’ve got cotton mouth and don’t want to go inside.”

“It smells wierd doesn’t it?” He scrunched his nose as he replied. You nodded. “I’ll be right back.”

Many chit-chat’s and half a bottle of wine later—Jeongguk found it somewhere in the frat—you both bid goodbye with teary eyes and warm embraces, somehow convinced you’d never see each other again after this party. Both of you not letting go, Elaine and his friends have to literally pry you guys apart, causing everyone to fall comically like dominoes.

Attempting to open your eyes you rubbed them, immediately closing them as the morning sun assaults your vision. What even happened yesterday? Your head pounded, nausea swirled in your gut. You felt horrible. Trying to go back to sleep, you turned in your bed, feeling the dreaded build-up of saliva once you layed on your side. Uh-oh.

You rushed to your bathroom just in time.

“Elaine?” you half-yelled, wiping your mouth with your hand muffling your voice.

No response. You stumble out of your room and head for the kitchen. There, your find an already-ready best friend cooking god-knows-what.

Looking up at you, she said, “Good morning, Mrs. Jeon,” her tone dripping with mockery.

“What? Mrs. Jeon?” Confused, you try to piece together last night’s events, but it’s no use. Panicking, you exclaimed, “Oh my God, Elaine, what happened yesterday?!”

She looked at you unimpressed. “Oh, nothing much. Just that you and Jeongguk were all over each other yesterday!”

“Jeon who?” You asked.

“Be so serious right now,” She couldn’t believe you. “Y/n, he’s like, super well-known around campus. Rich as hell and a jerk.” She added, “Cheated on Jayla, rejected me when you bet me to hit on him for five dollars.” Elaine huffed with her arms crossed.

Recalling how hilarious that day was, you laughed so hard your headache worsened tenfold. “I might die if I keep laughing,” you stuttered, gripping the kitchen counter for dear life. “Is that why you don’t like him?”

“This isn’t funny! You guys made fools of yourselves last night. I genuinely thought he laced your drink.”

Drink. The word triggers flashes of last night—Jeongguk approaching you, him bringing you water, a bottle of wine somehow appearing in your hands. Blood drained from your face as you remembered how you parted ways—throwing yourself into his arms, him not letting go, literally shedding tears as Elaine dragged you out of the frat’s backyard.

You’ll make sure to never drink again after this.

“Elaine, did I really—”

“Yes, Y/n, you did! Do you know how embarrassing that was? Don’t even get me started on the reputation you just gained yourself.”

“What are you talking about?”

“All his closest friends were there,” she said, serving her plate with freshly cooked eggs. “They thought you guys fucked or something.”

“Ew?”

“Did you really?” The question almost offended you.

“Stop! God, no, obviously not,” you shuddered. “Just because we hugged?”

“No, because Jeon fucks everything he touches,” she replies matter-of-factly. “He also got a little possessive, he wouldn’t let go.”

“Of me?”

“Yeah, we all fell to the ground because y’all wouldn’t budge. My biceps are sore, no joke.”

You slumped against the counter, hiding your face in disbelief. “Wait so, now people think I’m easy?”

“Yes. Now let’s just hope the rumor didn’t spread outside the frats,” she said, walking out of the kitchen with her plate full of eggs. “People were watching, you know? I almost left you there with that whore. Anyway, you better get ready—your first class starts in 20.”

You sprint to your room.

“Thanks for saving me a spot.”

Namjoon lifted his backpack from the seat next to him as you slid into it, placing your own bag on the floor.

“No worries, buns,” he said, noticing your wet hair immediately. “Were you in a rush this morning?”

“Tell me about it,” you muttered, rubbing your temples.

“Did you have a night shift yesterday? I don’t recall scheduling you late this week.”

“No, it’s just that Elaine dragged me to this party and I—” You stopped yourself. Were you really going to expose your half-secret to Joonie out in the open? Nuh-uh. “I’m just so hungover. Let’s talk later. Focus on class.”

Although curious as to what happened last night that got you this flustered, Namjoon chose to not push the subject, both of you focusing now on whatever the professor was droning about.

You liked that he always walked you to class. Obviously if his class was far or if he got busy he wouldn’t, but for the most part he did. You found it chivalrous, a trait that most men nowadays lacked. That’s why you liked Namjoon—he was friendly but polite, not shy to ask about your personal life but never stepping any boundaries. Not to mention his other great qualities, like how intelligent or hard working he is. You both had gotten originally close through Yeyo’s café—he trained and guided you along the harsh path of being a first-time barista—and having worked most shifts together, you became each other’s favorite co-worker, mingling whenever and hanging outside of work at times. At these occasional dates, the both of you learnt you shared similar struggles, like not having anyone support you financially or having complicated relationships with your families. All these things made relating to him easier. He never failed to make you laugh or help you see the good in the bad, and for him you were grateful.

Now you’re here—two months later, at the same university—him walking you to class while you complained about the workload your professor just assigned.

“I mean is he kidding? Not everyone has free time like him. I’ve got work!”

“I think his wife’s divorcing him or something,”

You gasp. “Wait, really?”

“Yeah,” he chuckled at your reaction. “You know the professor’s assistant?”

“Oh, the one who wants you?” you teased with a grin, wiggling your eyebrows playfully.

Namjoon elbowed you gently. “Stop it,” he muttered. You laughed at his flustered expression.

“Anyway,” he continued, eager to change the subject, “the other day, I stayed after class to ask her for some extra points, but she got off track and started telling me all sorts of things about him.”

“Like what?” you asked, leaning into him with interest.

“Why do you sound excited?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Don’t act like you don’t indulge in professor drama,” you retorted, crossing your arms.

Namjoon chuckled. “You’re cute when you’re mad.”

“I’m not mad,” you shot back, avoiding his gaze.

“Then why won’t you look at me?” he teased.

“Okay, fine! Just tell me what she said, please,” you pouted, grabbing onto his arm, feeling the firmness of his muscles. You knew that whenever you did this, he’d give in—like that one time at the fair when you’d been so thirsty you begged for a water bottle that cost him twenty bucks.

He sighed, giving in as expected. “Well, according to her, his wife wanted a Chanel bag, but the professor wouldn’t buy it for her. Then, she thought he was having an affair, so she looked through his things, but she found out he lied about how much money he’d inherited, so now she’s filing for divorce.”

“Gosh, I almost feel bad for him,” you said, the corners of your mouth lifting. “Almost.”

“Meanie,” Namjoon grinned and squeezed your nose.

“Hey! Stop, you’re—” About to punch him for ruining your makeup, he darted away as fast as he could.

“I’ll kill that motherfucker,” you muttered, opening the door of your next class.

“And I was like, are you dumb?” Elaine exclaimed through the phone.

After your last class, you decided you’d stop by the nurse’s office to get something that would soothe your headache, when you recieved a call from your best friend. Though spontaneous calls weren’t surprising, what she had just informed you was.

Apparently, she met up earlier with Zia, who had the audacity to ask her if she found it embarrassing to have a friend who had slept with Jeongguk. And obviously, her being the bestest, most protective friend ever, denied the rumors going around the frats in attempt of clearing your name.

As you walked out of the nurse’s office and into the bustling campus, she continued, “And I swear, in that moment, I was about to punch her. I mean, I always knew Zia was a little dense, but this? Ugh, it’s infuriating! I don’t even know why we fucked anymore.” She sighed heavily.

You found a bench under a large oak tree and sat down, needing to process everything. You’d been too busy with classes to think much about the previous night’s events, but now, with the day’s tasks behind you, the anxiety started creeping back in.

“Did you guys actually fuck yesterday?” you asked, leaning back against the bench.

“No, we had literally just fucked at the sorority, when she started asking dumb ass questions,” Elaine huffed. “I think I’m never finding love.”

“Don’t say that, E,” you replied, rubbing your temples. “You’ll figure it out, don’t worry.”

Elaine’s voice softened. “How are you holding up, though? I’m sorry for everything. I can’t help but feel responsible,” she added, and you could practically see her pouting on the other end of the line.

You took a deep breath. “Honestly, I was too busy this morning to even care, but now that I have time to think, I kind of just want to hide from everyone.”

“I’m sorry. I love you, okay? Don’t forget that.”

“I love you more.”

“Well I got to go, I’ll see you back at the apartment.”

Listening to the ring which notified the call was over, you finally had some time to process everything. Trying to find where you went wrong, the most controversial thing that happened all night was the fact that you were hanging out with… Jeongyeo? Or was it Jeongyu? Uh, you’ll make sure to ask Elaine later. Anyways, you saw no harm from having an innocent chat with him. All you did was drink with a rich frat college guy— and basically cry to each other but that was too embarrassing to even think about—so your ever crumbling reputation made no sense. You guys didn’t fuck, most certainly didn’t kiss, and by now the guy should’ve cleared the rumors, so why were they making such a fuss over it?

It was all so childish. Yet, despite your attempts to rationalize it, your stomach churned, your hands grew clammy, and your mind raced with anxiety. Every passerby seemed to stare at you with judgmental eyes.

You sighed deeply. This felt like high school all over again. You had to pull yourself together. If these people wanted to make a fuss over nothing and use you as their entertainment, then so be it. You had bigger things to worry about—like paying your bills or pursuing a career. So, with that, you decided to push the drama to the back of your head and refocus on what really mattered, finally finding peace once again in your mind.

And at peace you were.

At least that was the case until you got back home, because as soon as you walked into the apartment, Elaine rushed over, breaking the news to you. “Y/n, you won’t believe this. That miserable old landlord is raising our rent!”

You blinked, trying to process the new discovery. “What? Why?”

“I don’t know,” Elaine threw her hands up in frustration. “I begged him to exclude us from the raise, but he wouldn’t budge. He said it’s either pay up or move out.”

Trying your hardest not to kill him right now, you paused. What were you going to do now?

Trying to keep an optimistic outlook, you replied, “Look, I know it’ll be hard, but we can do this. Let’s just take extra shifts at work and start looking for an affordable place to stay at.”

She wasn’t sure about your proposition. You both worked long hours as is, not to mention how time consuming and disrupting it was for school.

“Y/n, we barely get to sleep some days,” Elaine said so lowly it was almost a whisper. Finding the situation impossible, she added, “I’m dropping out.”

You scoffed, “Are you crazy? You’re not doing that,”

“What else is there to do Y/n?” She frowned.

Lips pursed, you racked your brain trying to come up with a solution. Dropping out was not an option, and if keeping your education meant being homeless, then so be it. You both had a car, so maybe you guys could sleep there until you found a new place. And if you had to shower, you could probably just ask Namjoon if-

“Oh my god! Namjoon!” You yelled as you reached for your phone.

“What? Y/n what are you doing?”

Dialing Namjoon’s number, you replied with a smile on your face, “Pack your stuff, we’re crashing Joonies place.”

Author: pls this took me long enough to post and im not sure i even like it lmfoaoaoa. nobody told me how hard and time consuming this was. anyways yall if it sucks LMK ! i’ll make sure to burn this post down if it sucks ass. shout out to anyone who finished reading the first chapter of this series ! omm ilysm. i’ll also try to comment the people who wanted to be added to my taglist, hopefully it works. bye !

This is a work of fiction. The scenes, characters and events depicted are purely fictional and not intended to represent real-life procedures or individuals. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental. Do not use this story as your own.

@jeoncasino 2024 ©

[rainerioun]

𝖶𝖧𝖤𝖱𝖤 𝖶𝖨𝖫𝖫 𝖸𝖮𝖴 𝖡𝖤 𝖨𝖭 2 𝖸𝖤𝖠𝖱𝖲? | 𝗉𝗂𝖼𝗄 𝖺 𝖼𝖺𝗋𝖽.

— Hello! I know this is a shorter post, but I wanted to share something. This was requested anonymously, so thank you for the suggestion! ♥

ORIGINAL DATE POSTED : JUNE 16TH, 2024.

HOW TO CHOOSE A PILE : The outcome may vary based on whether you receive clear messages visually or intuitively. If you resonate more with selecting a pile visually, trust that inclination. Personally, I believe the notion that 'looks can deceive,' so I prefer to take a deep breath and close my eyes, allowing the pile I'm meant to connect with to come to me. You might see the color of the pile, sense or hear a number, or simply feel its overall vibe.

Please don’t redistribute or edit my content.

MUST READ + MASTERLIST. | KO-FI.

PILE ONE

Where Will You Be In 2 Years? The Empress [Reversed], The Chariot, Knight of Wands [Reversed].

In two years, you're definitely the one in control. If you're facing any hurdles, especially with dreams left unattended or ideas just lingering without action, that fades away over time. You might still encounter creative blocks and timing issues, but you'll handle them much more effectively, learning self-control and taking decisive action. You'll realize that your accomplishments don't solely define you; they're just an added bonus. You should know to slow down, it will grant you a clearer perspective to seeking security.

What Energy Will You Radiate? Networker — Light : Enhances unity through sharing of information. Engenders social awareness and empathy. Shadow : Conveys information only for person gain. Spreads fear and falsehood.  The Merchant : Self-worth, Trade. 

You could find yourself in a more social setting or perhaps in a higher position in your career, whether it's the same job or a new one. You're confident but not cocky, aware of your self-worth, and others notice this too. In some way, you seem to be a messenger, spreading kindness. This doesn't have to be taken literally; it could relate to anything. Whatever came to mind when you read that might be it.

PILE TWO

Where Will You Be In 2 Years? Ten of Pentacles, Knight of Swords, The Tower.

If you're starting something you've been wanting to begin or have been thinking about it, know now is the right time to do it. The next two years will be intense and different from what you're used to, but you can handle it. All your hard work will definitely pay off. In two years, you'll achieve what you wanted—be it wealth, security, or some kind of success. This will finally become permanent. However, expect significant changes, some of which you may not like at first. Any upheaval or chaos is just a way to build an even stronger foundation. For those considering starting a family, think about your circumstances carefully. Don't rush. This aspect will bloom within the coming years.

What Energy Will You Radiate? Queen — Light : Radiates the regal feminine. Uses her benevolent authority to protect others. Shadow : Becomes arrogant when authority is challenged. Controlling and demanding.  The Adventurer : Responsibility, Expectations.

Again, for those considering starting a family—if not, feel free to skip this part—you'll find yourself strongly in the parental role. This doesn't necessarily mean with a human child; just know you'll feel content. Some of you might be stressing over the mere thought, but rest assured, it'll bring fulfillment. As for the rest of you, you'll develop a stronger sense of responsibility. However, this doesn't mean you can't explore. The next few years are about stabilizing, rebuilding what's been lost, but in two years, you'll regain your 'freedom' once more. You are always the one in control, don't get lost in a little box.

PILE THREE

Where Will You Be In 2 Years? King of Swords, Seven of Cups, Four of Wands.

Pile three, you'll find yourself in a place of mental and physical clarity. It's a very calm and peaceful state. You're enjoying life, with a sense of harmony and relaxation. Home feels like a welcoming place. You deserve this, so keep following your instincts. There are many paths and decisions ahead, but there's no wrong choice. You get to decide for yourself. Whatever starts now will lead to peace in the future. While life won't be stress-free, you'll accept the struggles, not rushing to figure everything out immediately.

What Energy Will You Radiate? Hermit — Light : Seeks Solitude to focus intently on inner life. Serves personal creativity. Shadow : Withdraws from society out of fear or negative judgements of others. Refusing to help those in need.  The Vengeance : Overcoming Slights, A Choice. 

In two years, I envision you embracing the homebody life, in your own zone. It's all about you and your close circle. You'll find contentment in solitude, focusing on the little things with acceptance—chores, hobbies, and everyday routines. When I think of this scenario, I see someone sitting in a chair, leisurely watching their pet play without a worry in the world. It's a heartwarming scene; some of you might even welcome a new pet into your life. In two years, it's a time for retreat, and if you believe you can get there, you will.

[aerynwrites]

Whittle Mistakes

Halsin x GN!Reader

A/N: Based off this Request. Hope you all enjoy this little fluffy piece!

Word Count: 1.2k

Warnings: small injury, magic healing, mostly pure fluff

The afternoon is a mild one today, the usual heat giving way to a pleasantly cool breeze as you listen intently to Halsin’s instructions. 

You managed to convince the druid to show you how to whittle, a feat that actually took very little convincing in truth. Once you found out about his hobby, you’d been wanting to ask him to teach you. Not only because you are genuinely interested, but because you knew it’d give you an excuse to spend time with him away from the others. 

He’s been increasingly patient with you, bringing all of the supplies you both would need in order to take on this task. He even had small blocks of wood already prepared, and was now walking you slowly through the steps of what to do. 

He’d already shown you how to draw a rough shape of what you want to create on the sides of the wood with a small piece of charcoal, and now he was showing you the actual techniques of whittling. 

He holds the wood in one hand, and his knife in the other, large hands holding the tool steady as he slowly carved small slivers of wood away. 

“The key is to not cut away too much wood at once,” he says, as you lean over to watch from your seat next to him. “You can always cut more away, but you cannot put it back. Better to go slow.” 

You nod as you continue to watch him. You’re both sitting in a small clearing in the woods, Halsin having one leg propped up to support the arm holding the knife while the other lays comfortably out in front of him as he works. You sit right beside him, cross legged as you support the block of wood on one of your legs. 

“Okay,” you say, nodding. “Slow and steady wins the race.” 

Halsin smiles. “Precisely. Now,” he gestures to your block, “go ahead and start, let me know if you have any questions and I will also try to keep an eye on you if you need assistance. But there’s no better teacher than instinct, so just do what you think is best.” 

You nod as he turns back to his work, but don’t kiss the way his eyes flick back over to you as you pick up your knife. From everything he’s told you so far, it can’t be too hard, once you get to the intricate parts of the project it will be, but right now you’re just trying to get a general shape. 

What could go wrong? 

You start slowly, pressing the knife’s sharp edge against the wood and pulling it towards you slowly as you dutifully work to shave off more and more of the wood. Halsin is of course whittling a duck; but you’ve opted to try and carve a bear, wanting to give it to Halsin at the end. 

Silence falls over the clearing as you both work, only occasionally making small talk or commenting on one another’s work. It’s comfortable like this, a nice reprieve from everything happening around you all. 

You and Halsin have grown close over the past several weeks, and to say you were surprised when he expressed interest in you was an understatement. But you’d happily accepted, and as time went on, it feels like you both have known one another for years, falling into such a comfortable partnership that it never made you think twice. 

Even now, despite the silence, you’re content just being close to him and sharing something that he cares about. You’re happy to just be in his presence even if there’s no words passing between you. 

Soon, more defined shapes start to appear from your respective wood blocks, Halsin’s looking much more identifiable than yours. Taking a moment to look at your misshapen attempt at a bear, you realize its malformity is because of its head. You don’t seem to carve enough wood away to create a defined difference between the head and body. 

But as you try to do so, you find your knife slipping against the awkward angle. So, in an attempt to achieve your goal, you turn the wood in your lap, and move to run the knife away from your body, hoping the downward angle will help. 

You just start to push the knife when you see Halsin reach for you. 

“Be careful, my heart-“

His warning comes too late. Your knife slips from the woodblock, and with the pressure of you pushing down, you’re unable to react fast enough to stop the sharp blade from slicing into your leg where the wood rests. 

You cry out in surprise more than pain, but as the blood wells up from the shallow cut, the sharp sting makes itself known. 

Halsin is up and crouching in front of you before you can even blink, taking the knife and wood from you. The blade cut through the thin cotton of your pants, allowing you to see the wound clearly. It’s nothing serious and doesn’t seem too deep, but Halsin brows are creased with worry nonetheless. 

He reaches out for you, placing gentle hands on your thigh just around the wound, inspecting it quickly. 

“Halsin,” you say, reaching out to place a hand atop his own. “I’m fine, it’s just a little cut. Nothing some bandages won’t fix.” 

Your words fall on deaf ears, because before you can stop him, bright golden light glows beneath his palms and you watch as the wound closes up in the blink of an eye, the pain ebbing away until it’s gone completely. 

Halsin looks up at you then, eyes soft and you can’t help but let out a quiet huff. 

“You didn’t have to do that,” you say quietly as Halsin shifts closer, one hand coming to rest behind you as a smile tugs at his lips. 

“I could not very well leave you injured, what kind of partner would I be then?” 

You roll your eyes, but reach up to cup his cheek affectionately. “You’re such a mother hen, sometimes.” 

A small chuckle escapes him before his lips capture your own in a chast kiss. One your return happily before he pulls away. 

“I should have warned you not to carve away from yourself,” he says softly, moving back so he’s sitting in front of you once more, reaching for your now lumpy piece of wood. 

“It’s alrigh,” you assure him, taking your project from his hands as you pick up your knife once more. “I should have known that wouldn’t end well,” you admit, staring down at your sad excuse for a bear. “I was trying to make this look more like a bear but…I think it’s a lost cause.” 

Smiling Halsin shakes his head. “Do not give up, my heart. You can achieve whatever you set your mind to, even something as simple as whittling.” 

You laugh, and start to continue your work. “We’ll see about that.” 

The smile on his lips doesn’t leave as he takes up his position beside you once more, and this time, you shift to lean into his side as you work, smiling when you feel him press a kiss to the top of your head. 

“I love you,” you tell him. 

“And I love you more,” he replies. 

Then, the comfortable silence falls over you once more. The only sound being the gentle scraping of knives in wood as you both continue your work.