#me writing a full story shouldn't surprise me right

[scarletwinterxx]

wait for your love - haechan scenario

hellloooo so this one is a request. I've mentioned it before, i'm still not the best at writing angst but I try😅 when i saw this request, a few scenes immediately popped in my head. Hope you like it🥺 also I was listening to We Can't Be Friends by Ariana on repeat while writing this.

Also a short anecdote, when I saw nct dream last year during Sorry, Heart stage I literally bawled my eyes out. Like full on ugly sobbing in my seat haha I was okay during the first verse but when it got to Haechan's turn to sing the chorus the tears just went falling like waterfalls

ANYWAYSSSSSS

For my other works you can check them out here, and for my other story series’ you can check them out here.

and if you want, u can buy me coffee(totally optional but any donation is very much appreciated!) thank you🥺💛

All works are copyrighted ©scarletwinterxx 2024 . Do not repost, re-write without the permission of author.

(gif not mine, credits to rightful owner)

"What are we then?"

Those words shouldn't scare Haechan as much as it does. He hates it too. He hates how he can't say it to you but he doesn't want to let you go either.

He hates this grey area the two of you are in now.

"We're us. Isn't that enought?" he asks back

"For fuck's sake, we've been seeing each other for what? like 2 years now? And until now you still can't commit? I can't call you my boyfriend, you don't like it when people ask if we're dating"

"Because it's none of their fucking business"

"Well it's my business, I'm asking you right now, what the hell am I to you?" you stare at him, waiting for an answer. Any answer.

At this point hearing him say you don't mean anything to him would make more sense than the usual silence he'd give you.

"Baby, please I don't want to argue" he mumbles

"See, this is what you do all the time. I'm not a play toy. I'm not some past time you can call whenever you're bored, Haechan. We're adults now. I've invested my time, my feelings, a fraction of my life to you. For this. And you can't even answer me, is that too much to ask? Am I too much?"

You look at him, waiting for him to argue back. You didn't know it was this draining to be in a relationship or situationship or whatever it is you have with him. At some point you got tired of asking him what this all means. When it's clear he's not going to answer you, you stood up from your seat

"I can't do this" you whispered

"What?"

"I can't. I can't do what you're asking, Haechan" you speak clearer this time

He waits a few moments, letting the words sink in.

"What do you mean? I thought you said... you said we can"

With every word he tries not to show he's breaking right and the only thing keeping him together is you, and here you are about to slip through his fingers.

"We can't keep all promises, right? Like how you promised you'll try. This isn't trying."

"Baby-" "Don't" you cut him off. You know it will be a lot harder to walk away if you hear him call you that, it's already hard on you now.

"This is me letting you go" were your last words to him before walking away. You wipe the few tears that escaped, plastering a very fake smile before taking the first step away.

One of many you'd try to take just to get away from this heartbreak.

You would want to say that's not how it ended, that he changed his mind and finally mustered the courage to call you and say what he's really thinking. You want to say that he came the next day and surprised you, knocking on your door holding sunflowers for you.

But no.

After that day you never heard from him again. When you got the (unspoken) message that he'll never try to reach out and fix things between the two of you, you blocked him on everything. Your friends didn't ask questions, you went on with your life. Trying your best to bury and let that part of your story go.

From spending every day and most nights together to being strangers. You acted like he never existed to cover up the hurt you're feeling.

It's been over a year since that. You haven't really cried about it. Not even the day after he left. It's like you're just a shell now. You locked everything in a pandora box in your head, to be forgotten for the rest of time.

"Hey did you hear Dreamers new song?" your roommate asks the moment she steps through the door. You were sitting on the dinning chair, stacks of works and your laptop infront of you

She hears the song playing in the background, "Of course you have, it's good right?" she smiles

"Mhm, I like it"

"Sorry, Heart. Definitely an anthem for the broken hearted" she says withouth meaning out, "I meant like you know it's a sad song" she adds

You chuckle, she probably thinks this song is very fitting for you and you kinda agree with her.

"Anyways, I'm going to the lounge later. Want to come with?"

"Sounds good, I actually need to go out, stretch my legs and get some fresh air"

"Okay, let's leave after lunch"

You met with other friends at the lounge, chatting and sharing notes together. It was a good way to pass time. These days you find that it's best to keep yourself occupied so as not to think about things you'd rather not think about. You kept yourself busy. Finding random hobbies, fixation. For a while you liked running after class, then you got into baking, then crocheting. Activities that keeps you busy, distracted long enough not to remember.

One day you were at a record store, your newest hobby. Browsing for a new record to take home. Today out of the days you forgot to bring your headphones so you hum along the music playing in the store.

While reading the back of the record you were holding, you hear it.

A familiar voice you haven't heard in a long time, a voice you didn't think you'd hear again.

Your head shoots up, looking at the other side of the aisle.

You'd know his voice anywhere. You can be inside the loudest room and you'd still be able to single out his voice.

There he stands right across you, signing out your favorite bands newest song while he has his headphones on. Probably not realizing he's singing a bit too loud.

When Haechan felt someone staring at him, he looks up not expecting you to be looking back at him. He blinks a few times, comtemplating if this was all a dream or he's going crazy and started to hallucinate.

Immediately you put back the record you were holding and ran out the store. Once again leaving Haechan behind.

You're already far by the time he takes the steps to follow you, thinking this time he's not going to make the same mistake but you were already gone.

He knows you blocked him. Of course he tried to call you but his efforts were shut down when he couldn't reach you or his messages won't deliver.

Similar to you, he tried to find distractions. To drown out the thoughts, he drinks, goes out to parties, too many nights he drunk texted you, saying how much he missed you only to see it in the morning unsent. Most of the time there's music directly blasting through his ears. Music being his only escape from his own thoughts, if he's left long enough it's like his own mind is beating him up.

That's how he got into collecting records. He was on the look out for this new record so he decided to drop by the store that day. He didn't expect to see you there.

Out of all the places he'd see you again.

He's not going to lie, he imagined this moment many times before. Even rehearsed what he'd say to you when he see you again but now that it happened he just froze on the spot.

Just like that it's like he back in his room, watching you walk out his door for the last time. He's back to square one.

It's been weeks and no sign of Haechan. It's a good thing, you think.

Also you've been subtly avoiding going to public places just in case you accidently see him again. You thought you're ready, but the moment you saw him it's like all of these emotions you've repressed since you left came back again.

Your roommate finally convinced you to come out. A few of you were gathering for karaoke night. You almost said no again but you need a night out, one more night in your room might just drive you crazy.

"Oh my gosh, girlie you're hereeeee" one of your friends squeals when she saw you walk in the room

"I'm here as a spectator, not to sing" you tell her, accepting the bottle of beer she hands you

"Alright by me, you better cheer the loudest when I sing"

You got invited to karaoke night. A couple of students from campus got together tonight to hang out for chill night. Even though you don't really sing, you do enjoy hanging out with your friends.

You were talking to another friend when suddenly you hear the intro to a familiar song being sung by a familiar voice.

왜 이리도 쉽게 토라지는지? (Why do I become mad so easily) 내 맘이 작아서 너무 한심하지? (It's pathetic that my heart is so small right?)

You look over the makeshift stage to see Haechan holding the mic, singing out one of your favorite songs.

어떻게 널 볼까? (How can I see you?) 밤새 뒤척인 맘의 조각들 반짝이지 않아 (I toss and torn all night The fragments of my heart don't shine) 난 알고 있는데 내가 할 수 있는 건 (I know it, what I can do is) "I'm sorry", 그 말뿐이란 걸 (Only those words)

Before the chorus starts, Haechan looks through the crowd finding you. He looks straight at you as if he's singing every word to you.

Words you wished you heard from him a long time ago.

Tell me why I let you down Any chance I get, I'm breaking down 잘못인 걸 다 아는데 (아는데), 왜 힘든 걸까? (I know I'm at fault but why is it tiring?) To tell you that I'm sorry, heart

For the rest of the song the two of you look at each other. You listen to him, imagining it was really him who was saying those words and not through the song.

When he finished, you stood up to go outside and get some fresh air.

Of course he's here. Luck was never on your side and fate seems to like playing jokes on you.

Haechan watches your back, giving the mic to the next person before following you out. You hear the footsteps behind you, knowing who it might be without looking back.

You're now at the rooftop of the building, a fewer people were hanging out here than inside. Feeling another presence beside you but they haven't said anything yet.

Even though you already know who it was, you don't say anything instead you get another beer from a nearby cooler and passing it over to Haechan without a word.

For a while neither of you said anything, watching the view in front of you.

“I get flashbacks when I see you and not the good kind” you finally speak out loud

“You’re saying that like I was the worst thing that ever happened to you” he snickers, holding the bottle up to his lips to drink his beer

He really didn’t think you’d talk to him or even acknowledge his existence at all. But now here you are, at some rooftop at a party he least expected to see you. 

He’s trying not to be too obvious but he can’t keep his eyes off of you. Maybe it was the way the light hit your face, or how the cold breeze was hitting his skin and yours. The moment he arrived he was kind of hoping to find you here tonight. He knew some of your friends were coming, you did use to have the same circle of friends until he started to distance himself.

He's glad though knowing you found good people who'll be there for you.

He's looking at you again, not being able to stop himself. It was at this moment he realized. Realized something he never thought he was ever capable of ever doing again. 

Feeling. Loving. Falling and accepting. 

The sound of horns from cars and the murmuring people in the background, the city lights in front the two of you and the stars as the witnesses. Witness for something that’s about to unfold.

It was scary. This new found knowledge scared him. 

In the past it was scary to him to even think about being tied down. To be committed to someone. All of this comes from his fear of failing. He wanted to tell you that before, the last day before you ended things between the two of you he wanted to let you know the reason why he couldn’t set things straight with you was because he was scared of letting you down. He was scared you might feel trapped. 

It's wasn't you who was too much for him. He was the one who felt like he was too much for you. He thought he was being too fast, too careless. His fears got the better of him, costing him a future with you.

You walked away and everything in his life got worse. Like the only light in his life was extinguished. 

Right now feels like that one chance to get things right. Even though he still feels scared, this time he’s willing to take that risk for you.

There are other things to be scared of, like your gaze. It was the way you were looking at him.

Like you can just consume all of him with those eyes. How you’re saying a thousand words with them without saying a single syllable.

One look into his own eyes and he's ready to surrender everything to you.

“Do you really want to hear my answer to that or are you still emotionally unavailable?” you ask, taking a sip of your own drink. 

“At what point did you realize you liked me? Like really liked me?” he asked instead, all he got was a laugh from you. You were laughing out loud like it was the funniest joke you’ve ever heard. 

“We were watching a movie, I mumbled something under my breath. I think it was something along the lines of ‘oh that’s so cute’, talking to myself. Then I felt you hold my hand, you kissed it before holding it in yours for the rest of the movie. It’s not the grandest gesture but at that moment I felt so content. It was all I wanted but I knew you didn’t think the same way” you smile sadly recalling that memory. Giving him an answer, wondering why you did.

"I guess I never said sorry, I'm sorry"

You shrug, taking another swig from your drink. "What's done is done. I would say no hard feelings but I kinda do hate you for what you did"

"Good. I'd be sadder if you said you didn't care. Hate isn't the opposite of love, it's indifference" he says

"Was that what you felt for me before? Indifference?" you can't help but ask, in your mind you're not sure if you're ready to hear his answer but it's too late to take it back

He shakes his head, drinking the rest of his drink before standing straight to face you

"I felt more for you, more than I ever said. In that I was wrong, I admit. I should've told you. It might be no use in telling you now, but I did feel something for you. I was being stupid and was too scared to admit it"

"Then why are you telling me now?"

"Because I realized not having you in my life is scarier than the thoughts in my head. I was too scared of my own mind, I sacrificed you instead when I shouldn't have. I could've told you. I wish I told you"

You listen to him, letting it sink in. For so long you asked just what went wrong, what you could've done differently or what would've happened if you stayed.

"I waited, I waited until you told me you liked me. But the more I waited, the more I started to not like myself. I knew I deserved more but I stayed because I wanted to be with you. You were always first to me" you say

Hearing you say those words breaks something in him. He did like you, he still likes you. Haechan has always kept a safe distance from everyone, you were the only exception.

"I'm glad we got to talk" you say to him with a smile, then you walk back inside.

This time Haechan didn't follow you because he knows this won't be the last time he sees you.

"Oh my gosh, so that's what happened between the two of you?"

After that conversation with Haechan, you went back to your place and called it a night. The next day your roommate noticed you were staring blankly into space, out of concern she asked you what's wrong. You told her all that happened in the past 24 hours then you told her all about your history with Haechan.

"Yep, I haven't seen him around campus that much after that"

"You know, one of his friends is my blockmate and we go to the same gym. I heard he did an exchange program for a year, maybe that's why you haven't seen him around" she tells you

"Oh really, he did mention it before. Maybe he went through with it" you mumbled

"So you guys were like in a situationship then?"

"I guess so. We weren't exclusive, but he was the only guy I was seeing for like 2 years. Remember when I was barely home"

"Oh! That was him? He used to like send food here all the time whenever you were busy studying"

"What?"

"Oh my god I forgot to tell you that? yea this was like when you guys were a thing. During exam season or when you're busy with reports and stuff, he'd drop off food for you" she tells you

"I thought you had those delivered"

"Girl no, half of the time he leaves it at our door. The only reason I know is because I caught him one time and he fessed up"

No, you definitely didn't know that.

Haechan never told you. He never told you anything. At some point you thought it was better to not ask instead of being met with silence as a reply.

One thing you know though is he's the type to take action rather than say it. You won't be surprised if he did it before, he might not be good at expressing himself but he never passed the chance to make you feel like you're the only girl in his world.

It feels like that was another lifetime ago, that at some point in your life you'd rather be the backburner than totally lose him.

Seeing him again was no help. It's like you spiraled down again. You thought he didn't have this effect on you anymore but you were wrong. You'd be lying if you say you haven't thought of him since you saw him last.

What you didn't know was Haechan felt exactly the same. He's trying to think of a way to reach out to you without seeming to needy, he didn't want you to think he's forcing himself back into your life.

Another week has passed and still no sign of you. He decided to get drinks with his friends, he's a few drinks in when he decided to call it an early night. This really wasn't where he wanted to be.

He's not sure where he wants to be. All he knows is his night would be a thousand times better if he sees you, even just a glimpse.

On his walk back to his place, he plucked a branch from a random plant. Picking out the leaves one by one, leaving a trail behind him.

You're on your way back from the library, deciding to get some midnight snacks first. You noticed the scattered leaves on the road, chuckling at the sight. The more steps you take, you slowly realized it's the same path to your apartment.

You slowed down, looking around to check if anybody was close to you but the street is empty. You grab your phone in your pocket just in case, while you hold your keys with the other hand.

When you're nearing your front door, you see someone sitting at the steps. Head lying low, you can't even see his face but you'd know that brown mop of hair anywhere.

"Haechan?" you called out for him

Haechan looks up, seeing you walking towards him. At first he thinks he's dreaming, he wipes his eyes to clear his vision. Even pinched his arm to check if this was real.

You're here.

He's here.

"What are you doing here?" you asked once you're standing right in front of him

"I grabbed drinks with Yangyang and Jeno, I swear I was walking home. I guess I got confused" he mumbles, now holding a branch with no leaves on it.

You look at it, then looked back at the trail of leaves behind you.

"Do you want to come in? Go drink some water or coffee first before you head back" you offered

"Are you sure?" he asks back, standing up from the steps

"Wouldn't offer if I wasn't. Let's go inside, it's getting chilly"

He steps aside to let you go first, following behind you. The elevator ride up to your floor was quiet, even after going in your apartment Haechan didn't say a word.

"Here, have some water. I can make coffee but it's too late to drink it, do you want ramen or something?" you ask him while getting the snacks you got out of the grocery bag

"Do you usually ask guys to come in with you and cook ramen for them?" he asks

He meant to only think of it, but with the little amount of alcohol in his system seems to have turn the filter off.

You snicker at his question. Instead of answering him, you grab two ramen cup noodles from your cupboard and turn the kettle on. You wait for the red light to turn green before pouring it in the cups, bringing it over the kitchen island and taking the seat beside him.

"I can't even order late night snacks without thinking about you, we used to do it all the time when I came over at yours or when we're having late night hangouts. You ruined a lot of things for me" you finally say

Haechan just looks at your profile. Even though you say it like that, there's really no trace of anger on your face. Maybe you are, but to him you look so pretty and cozy. He wanted to beat himself up for ever thinking he can walk away from this. From you.

"For what it's worth, whenever I get drunk I used to text you all the time. You probably blocked me because the messages never got delivered. Every morning I see that on my phone, message after message until I lost count. I knew you weren't going to answer but I still did it"

"Why?" you ask him

"I missed you. I wanted to tell you I was being stupid, I wanted to beg for you to take me back. But all of those thing I could only say with a bit of help from alcohol. That's how I knew I couldn't go back, not yet anyways. You deserved more than drunken confessions"

You look over at him, for the first time since that night you really look at him. The same eyes that used to feel like home to you.

He looked so different yet the same.

You still feel the same.

"It's been 3 minutes, you hate soggy noodles" you nod at his ramen. Opening your own cup to start eating. Neither of you said anything after that. It wasn't awkward, you actually enjoyed the quiet.

For the first time since Haechan came back and you saw him again, your mind was at peace. You weren't overthinking things. You weren't wondering your long list of what if's.

It's like a part of you knew he's finally here again.

After the quick snack session, he helped you clean up before walking towards the door.

"Thank you for the uh snacks and water" he didn't know what to say, a shy Haechan is a rare sight so you can't help but smile.

Haechan sees this, he can feel his own cheeks redden. You still look so beautiful when you smile, so beautiful that he's ready to fight anyone who makes you smile that isn't him.

"Go home, it's late. You're sober now right?" you ask him

"Yea, I'm good"

"Okay, don't want you getting confused and going to someone else's front door"

"I promise I won't drunk text you again so will you unblock me now? Or if you have a new number you can text me or whatever. Actually you know what, do whatever makes you feel comfortable. Don't listen to me, I'm just blabbing now"

You can't help but giggle at him, the action making Haechan's heart skip a few beats.

"I'm imagining this is how those drunk texts would sound like" you say

"I missed you, Y/N" he mumbles

You don't say anything. He can hear his own heartbeating, each thump like it's the last then you're smiling back at him

"Goodnight, Haechan"

He smiles at you, waving goodbye before finally walking out. He gestures for you to close the door behind him, only leaving after he hears the lock from the other side. He skips back home.

The next few days were back to normal, you weren't feeling gloomy. You were going out with friends. All in all, you're in a great mood.

"Hey, somebody left this outside. Tell me I'm crazy but is this from Haechan?" your roommate hands you over a small bouquet of flowers with a paper bag full of snacks.

"Uh yeah, I think so"

"I know things didn't end well between the two of you, but the boy is still so whipped for you" she mumbles, watching the small smile on your face

"Maybe it's just a peace offering"

"Right, well whatever it might be I say go for it. As long as you're happy"

You look up at her, shocked to hear that all of a sudden "Isn't that what you're worrying about? You really think I didn't notice it, you were listening to Sorry, Heart on repeat the other day then now you're listening to love songs. If he's it for you, then give it a chance"

She left after that, leaving you alone at home.

You take the gifts Haechan sent to your room, putting the flowers in a vase. You see a small note attached,

xx12131xxx just in case you lost it or changed your number. - H

You get your phone and dial the number, it's still in your phone. You unblock it first before you click call, waiting a few rings before you hear his voice

"Y/N?"

"How did you know it was me?"

"I wasn't expecting anyone else, and uh it looks like you didn't change your number"

"Oh yea uhm so you're unblocked now" you told him, not really sure what else to say

He chuckles, "Thanks, so I'm guessing you got the flowers and the snacks?"

"Yeah, thanks by the way. Why though?"

"You shared your stash with me the other night, just wanted to pay you back"

"You didn't have to, I offered. But thanks again"

"Hey uh are you busy right now? or tomorrow or really whenever you're free"

"I don't have anymore classes today"

"Do you want to go grab coffee or food or anything really. Whatever you want, my treat"

If someone told you you'd be going out to get drinks with Haechan, you'd say they're out of their mind. But here you are, visiting a new cafe you've never been to with a guy you thought you'd never be with again.

"I'd get the taro milktea, thanks"

"I'll take this one" he points at the drink in the picture, "And two of the cookies please, thank you" he pulls out his card to pay for the both of you. When you got your drinks and food, you walked back outside to sit on the vacant seats. The weather was nice, it wasn't too hot or too cold. A perfect day to be out.

You open your drink, taking a quick sip while Haechan does the same. You notice he made the face, like when he drinks or eats something sour.

"It's lemon flavored isn't it?" you chuckle, taking the drink from him and giving yours to him instead

"No, it's fine. I'll drink it"

"You hate anything sour flavored, I like lemon it's fine" you sip his drink, it does taste good but you know he won't like it

He watches you get the cookies, breaking it in half before giving him the other.

"If you have anything to say, just say it. You're too in your head again" you tell him

"Sorry, I was just..." he's at lost for words, but this time not for the wrong reason.

It's like his mind can't put what he's feeling in to words.

"Did you get the record you were looking for?" you ask him, changing the topic

"Huh?"

"At the record store"

"Oh I wasn't really buying anything, I was just browsing around. They didn't have the vinyl version of the album I wanted, I'll come back some other time" he tells you, taking a sip of your well now his drink.

"You were singing to the Dreamers, you know them?"

"I know a few songs, Sorry, Heart is good. I like that one"

"Me too. You sounded good when you sang it" you complimented him, this made him smile shyly at you

"Isn't it a bit too sad?" he asks, you shrug your shoulders

"I like it, although my roommate said I've been playing love songs these past few days" you shake your head, remembering what she told you

"Thank you by the way" Haechan suddenly says

"For what? You paid for our drinks"

"I meant for agreeing to get drinks with me. I was an asshole to you. All the time I was gone, I was thinking about how to make it up to you. That is if it's okay with you" he tells you.

He mentally pats himself on the back for not messing that up. Maybe slowly he'll learn how to speak his true feelings, he just hopes you'll be there to listen to him. Even though it took him this long.

"The last thing you asked me was what are we, I was being stupid. I wanted us to be more. I wanted us to be official but I was always scared to say it. I don't know why I was ever scared of committing, I could've been with you. That's my regret"

"Haechan"

"You're not a playtoy to me or just some past time whenever I'm bored. You were never too much for me. If anything I was the one who lacked. I don't blame you for walking away, I deserved that. I needed that so I could finally grow up"

You listen to him. You listen to him finally say the words you've been waiting to hear from him.

"This time I want to do it right, I want to take you out on dates, be there to go on night walks with you, go buy records we'd listen to, whatever you want to I just wan to do it with you. If you'll still have me"

The last words was barely a whisper, like he's scared to say it outloud, scared you might turn him away.

Haechan feels his heart beating wildly again, one day he might pass from arrest he thinks. Then you smile at him and it's like everything in his world stops.

You lean over, kissing the corner of his lip lightly. It was so quick but to him it felt like long time

"All I wanted was that, when it gets too much in your head you can talk to me. I'll listen. We don't have to walk away from each other" you tell him

"I'm sorry" he whispers

"I forgive you, the same way I forgive myself from everything that has happened. We need to heal from those wounds for us to move forward"

He smiles at you, he didn't even notice he got a bit teary eyed until a few tears escaped. He wipes it away before looking back at you again.

You stand up from your seat, holding out your hand to him. He looks at your hand then your face then your hand again before intertwining it with his.

There wasn't a destination in mind, he's probably thinking the same. The two of you just walk where your steps lead you to, with him following beside you holding you close to him.

Haechan looks at your hands, a smile forming on his face. He leans towards you to kiss you on the head, the action making you smile too.

"Thank you" you hear him mumble. You didn't say anything back but he felt you grip his hand tighter. Squeezing it three times.

And he knew everything was finally going to be okay. This time, you won't let go.

[arabellasleopardcoat]

Pyrite - Chapter 1: Gold Crown

Series Masterlist

Pairing: Daemon Targaryen x Reader.

Chapter Summary: During your first week as the Queen's handmaid, you overhear something you shouldn't have.

Warnings: Discussions of death, grief, abortion, and scheming. None of those happen to reader.

A/N: Alysanne Targaryen, you feminist icon. Mostly context.

As you walk towards the Queen's chambers, you fight a yawn. Despite the excitement you feel, you are still tired, unused to waking up as early as this.

So far, you have led the life of a girl. Playing around the gardens with the other children, running errands for your mother. But today, your life will change. You will go from girl to woman.

Today will be one of the most important days of your existence. The only other event that could surpass it will be the day you finally meet the lady you will serve.

It's a labor of love, your mother says. To serve faithfully next to a Queen is to be strong and loyal, but most of all, loving. You will get to know all her secrets, only you will see her bared body, and all its imperfections. You will learn to love this woman as if she were your little sister, for you will be the only one to know her as she is. Past the crown and the jewels, and down to the very mortal flesh that a Targaryen Queen has.

The Red Keep is where your family has served for generations. Your grandmother is full of tales about the cruelty of King Maegor, and his various wives. Your mother has served Queen Alysanne faithfully, ever since both of them were mere girls. You come from a lineage of handmaidens, born to serve the greatest Queens Westeros has ever seen.

In your family, being born a girl is a blessing. When a boy is born, the family weeps for the opportunity lost. Your mother had been the only girl out of her siblings, and now you, an only child, get to learn her trade.

One of your earliest memories comes with being taught to read and write. A handmaiden must know all the recipes for beauty, and create her own. Never for embellishing herself, but rather her lady. Every woman in your family keeps her own book, tailored to the lady she serves. As a child, you dreamed of the day you would be handed your own journal, and today is the day it will finally happen.

You will get to meet Queen Alysanne today. She is the most loved and kind Queen your family has served. Your mother has always spoken highly of her, telling tales of her beauty and grace.

Her story is the story all little girls dream of living. She had married for love, defying her family, and ended up being the Queen of the Seven Kingdoms. She had it all, once. Riches, beauty and a loving family. But as of late, you know her life has not been the fairy tale it used to be.

One of her sons, Prince Aemon, passed away a few years ago. The loss of her daughter had made the Queen even sadder and morose, and now, her other son was rumored to be running himself ragged with the responsibilities that came with being Hand. He worked so much, his health was debilitating.

The Queen walked around the Red Keep as if in a stupor. Your mother said that she had left her changed. No longer, the Queen had a thirst for life, nor did she care much about anything. The only thing that had broken her out of her sadness had been the fact that her granddaughter, Rhaenys, had been declared unfit to be heir to the Iron Throne.

“If your Grace truly believes that women lack the wit to rule, plainly you have no further need of me.” The Queen had said to the King, that time. Everyone found her words so surprising, but not you. Your mother had always said she was a champion for women, noble and commoners alike.

The succession issue was not only the royal's, but yours too. On it depended whom you would serve, which Queen you would tend to for the rest of your days.

Prince Aemon left only one heir. Princess Rhaenys, a beautiful woman who inherited her father's eyes. It should be her who should be Queen, your mother says. It's only right. But she has already been passed over already, the King declared Prince Baelor his heir. Now Prince Baelor is weakening, and the issue resurfaces again.

You think that Princess Rhaenys would make for an interesting lady. She is married already and she has a young son. She would be the first Queen in her own right in the history of Westeros and that would make you at least noteworthy to your family history.

The other option is Prince Viserys. Prince Viserys is said to be peaceful and not very gifted with the sword. That's alright, though. He has a brother to do that for him. Prince Viserys is married to a young girl, around your age. Princess Aemma. They are said to love each other very much, despite having married as children. To her, you could be an older sister, you think. She is said to be very kind and royal, despite being an Arryn by birth.

Both of them have their advantages. Prince Viserys would no doubt bring stability, but Princess Rhaenys would implement changes that would surely benefit women.

It would be exciting to be part of such changes. Your mother always remembers fondly her first days as Queen Alysanne’s handmaiden, when she had convinced her husband to abolish First Night. A terrible northern custom that hurt people like you.

It had made waves, your mother had said. The Lords had not wanted to abolish it. But Queen Alysanne had interfered and saved thousands of young girls just like you.

It's difficult to think of the weak old woman laying on her bed as that same fierce Queen. You are allowed in her rooms at sunrise, with your mother and your journal. You watch as she prepares the room to rise her lady, and you sit quietly with the Queen's jewels on your hands and neck. It's one of your new duties, to warm them for your lady.

She looks frail, sleeping between the covers. Aged. Your mother draws the curtains of the room open. In the morning light, antiques and silks shine like jewels. It's ostentatious, and it makes you sick. Only the gowns in this room could feed three or four families for a year.

“It won't be long before now.” Your mother whispers to you. She opens the door and picks up a tray. On it, sits a grapefruit cut in half, eggs, tea, and bread. Your stomach growls. It smells heavenly. Your mother places it on the vanity where you sit, warming your Queen's seat and jewels. It's the worst kind of torture. Your stomach hurts with hunger and you think of your breakfast, a cup of broth that was heavily diluted with water.

As predicted, the Queen slowly starts to stir. She moves, long silver braid whipping around. She has very thin hair, and you wonder how your mother makes up for it. Your journal is ready to note down any tricks she deems to share. You are supposed to note times and other useful things for when the time comes for you to have a lady of your own.

“Good morning, my Queen.” Your mother curtsies, and you hurry to do the same.

“You brought your daughter.” The Queen rasps, eyes still cloudy with sleep. “Come closer.”

Your mothers urges you forward. You obey, unable to believe such an esteemed lady would want to look at you.

“You are a pretty thing.” The Queen says, brushing your cheekbone with her thumb. You lower your eyes, not wanting to offend her by gawking at her. Queen Alyssane's hands are like nothing you've ever felt before, made of the softest velvet. She has never worked a day in her life and it shows. Your mother's hands and yours feel rough by comparison. “Are you married yet?”

“No, my Queen. I wish to settle into my duties first.” You answer, demurely.

“Your duties.” She smiles. “You are a good girl.” Then, to your mother. “I suppose it's not only Rhaenys’s future at stakes, isn't it?”

“It seems like it, my Queen.” Your mother exchanges a look with the Queen. You would never dare gaze upon her like that, but they share a bond after so many years together. Almost a friendship. Or the closest thing to one that a commoner can have with a noble.

“Well. Hopefully, things will speed up soon. I doubt I have many years left, and Jaehaerys…” The distress can be heard in her tone. It makes you feel sad, too. What must it be like to love someone your entire life, and then being parted from them? If you had been in love with someone since you were a child, you wouldn't know how to live without them. It was that fear what had kept the Queen abed. After losing so much, she was afraid to lose even more.

Even if you were not a noble lady, that was a motivation you could understand. Losing your family would devastate you. Fear of it happening again would paralyze you too.

“The King will live longer, your Grace. There is no need to worry.” You said, softly. You weren't too sure it was your place to say so, but your mother's encouraging nod seemed to approve.

“Isn't it? When he insists on her not being Queen. He would rather bypass her rights again instead of naming her Queen.” The Queen said, sharply. Suddenly, she was sitting up straighter on her bed, eyes blazing with fury

“I do not presume to know the King's…” You tried to appease her, but she only became angrier.

“Do you not think it's a sign? Baelor will soon be struck down. I know it. His son is not fit to be King. Rhaenys can rule as well as any man, and she has her husband's support. He rides a dragon too. She also has a strong heir. Why would be Viserys be better?”

“The Lords would…” Your mother interjected, trying to save you from her wrath.

“A cock. He has a cock, and the Lords do too. It is time I show them it doesn't mean what they all think it means.”

And suddenly, Queen Alyssane was alive once more. She got up from her bed and started barking orders to her maidens, you included.

Your mother rushed to clothe her, draping silks over her. The Queen threw them all away, reaching instead for a black dress.

“Get me a quill, girl.” She screamed. “And summon Ser Otto. We have much to talk about.”

So you did. Everyone knew Ser Otto. He was the younger brother of Lord Hightower, and one of the most trusted men in the council. Tall and haughty, he did not take kindly to being summoned in such a way. But once he had a private meeting with Queen Alysanne, his mood greatly improved.

Many more meetings began to take place in the Queen's chambers. Another man had been asked to come and see her. Corlys Velaryon. The Queen said, loudly, that it was about him retaking his position as Master of Ships, but you could tell that was not it.

There was nothing to back your suspicions, though. You were not privy to what happened inside the Queen's chambers, and you only knew so much because you had been tasked with reading outloud her pending tasks each morning.

It was only when Queen Alysanne sent you to pick up some meat pies from the tavern she enjoyed that your suspicions were confirmed.

With your basket and borrowed gold from the Queen, you had gone to the tavern most highborn enjoyed. It was not a real tavern, in your opinion. You had been to a couple of those, with other serving girls and stable boys. Lowborn like you were not allowed here, just as they weren't allowed in the expensive pleasure houses of the Street of Silks. There was no explicit prohibition, but the prices said it all.

What it was, was a good imitation, for young lords to pretend to be having the real experience, and feel adventurous. It was also a good place for seedy meetings among the highborn.

You were making the queue towards the counter to purchase the meat pies, overpriced and made with much better ingredients than any tavern grub when you heard them.

“And you have a daughter, right?”

“A newborn. Alicent.”

At first, you didn't pay much attention, letting the conversation drift over you. It contained nothing out of the ordinary. Just a new father bragging.

“Alicent is a pretty name. Queen Alicent.”

“Laenor is…”

“Barely a few years older than her.”

But then, you realized. You knew those voices! They belonged to the men who often met with the Queen. The one with silver hair was Lord Corlys Velaryon, and he was the husband of Princess Rhaenys. The other one, you could tell, was Ser Otto. There was a third man with them, that you did not recognize. He wore a hood over his head.

“It has a certain ring to it, Hightower.” Lord Corlys laughed.

“We have to move quickly. Before the news spread.” The unknown man said.

“News?” Ser Otto asked, frowning.

“Aemma is pregnant. I fear, if she manages to carry to term, some might prefer Viserys over Rhaenys. If she births a boy…” Lord Corlys grimaced.

“A line of Kings, uninterrupted.” Ser Otto grimaced too.

“She will not birth a boy.” The other man said.

“We can't be too sure about that.”

“I should leave. I have to meet with the Queen in half an hour.” Lord Corlys got up and walked out, passing near you. He spoke the truth. You had read so this morning, on the Queen's itinerary. You tried hard to look very focused on counting your gold coins, despite the Queen having handed you the exact amount.

The silence stretched. Now, you could not hear them as clearly, but you were curious. So you stepped a bit closer and asked the cashier to warm your meat pies, trying to hear more.

“Make sure she does not give birth to a boy.” Ser Otto ordered.

“Trust me. She won't even announce it. I will make sure of it.” The hooded man's voice had a dangerous edge to it.

“We can't have threats to Princess Rhaenys around.”

“And future Queen Alicent, either.” The hooded man replied, his tone turning more teasing. You wondered who this Alicent was, and how they planned to place her on the throne. You did not know any Targaryen by that name.

“That, too. You will be rewarded handsomely, of course.” Ser Otto’s reputation did not indicate him to be humorous, but there was a hint of mirth in his words that could not be faked. He was pleased by the exchange.

“I would like to be Maester of the Red Keep, I think.”

One of the men laughed. The cashier knocked the counter in front of you, annoyed. He was handing you the heated meat pies, and expecting his gold. You paid him without a word. And as you walked towards the exit, bundled pies under your arm, you heard them toast.

“Hear, hear. To Grandmaester Mellos and Otto Hightower, Lord Hand.”

“And baby Queen Alicent.”

“And baby Queen Alicent.”

Your walk back to the castle was troubled. You were smart enough to know the implications of their talk. Did the Queen know? Considering they were meeting outside the Red Keep, it was doubtful. Besides, it didn't fit with what you knew about her. She may have disagreed with the succession, but she would never hurt her granddaughter.

Corlys Velaryon had left before the discussion took place. While as ruthless as his companions, the others seemed wary of involving him. Perhaps because, if the plan was discovered, it would affect Princess Rhaenys claim.

Your mind was racing. You had to tell someone. They were talking about murdering a babe not yet born! Would the Queen believe you? You knew her enough to know that she would not hurt you for speaking, but you doubted she would heed your warning. Instead, she would go straight to Ser Otto. A lowborn girl’s word against the word of a Maester and one of her advisors? The joke told itself.

Your other option was telling the Lord Hand. But Lord Baelor scared you. He was deeply protective of his children after the death of his wife. You didn't know him enough to know he wouldn't murder the messenger.

But you could not keep the memory tucked away either. It burned at you, when you were brushing the Queen's hair. When you were bathing. When you were attempting to fall asleep.

The hooded man said that Princess Aemma would not even get to announce it. Your time was running out. You had to do something.

[poppy-metal]

oh girl tashi involved in the creep au…. art pays extra for her to leave little sticky notes where she knows you’ll find them. im watching birdie. missed me birdie? i’m coming for you you little cunt. stuff like that on them. she talks to you idly and in coffee shop and realises how deranged you are, realises art is having a genuinely disturbed person trailed. tells him, i don’t know if that girl is right. she seemed sweet enough, and i don’t think she’s dangerous. but something about her is off. real off. i saw herr find the note, and she didn’t look scared. she didn’t look surprised. she looked… there was something frightening about how happy it made her. like she’d won’t the lottery. i’ve never seen anyone’s mouth smile so wide. i don’t know. something i thought you should know. sounds like birdie to him. but not liar birdie. the birdie he thought he knew. how strange.

it just makes him more angry :(( he doesn't get you. he thought he knew you, once. thought he knew a girl he was in love with - knew that you liked birds, and fairytales, and english was your favorite subject because you liked writing so much, he knew you made twisted things sound beautiful, he knew you liked the color pink although you didn't allow yourself to wear it much apparently, he knew what your pussy looked like shining and wet with arousal, what it looked like stuffed full of delicate fingers. at least he thought he knew all that - and then you'd taken it all back, said it was a lie. none of it was real. he had to grapple with the fact he knew all these things about a person that wasn't real. useless fucking knowledge that he couldn't unknow. couldn't unlearn. all he knew for sure was that you were a liar.

he gives tashi a note to place in your winsheild when she finds your apartment - its something simple to start. a single white slip of paper with pen ink scrawled across it.

found you.

its sealed so tashi wont read it. he doesn't care if she does, though. its not her job to judge him. Its her job to follow you around. to find you.

still, art not prepared for the file he gets when tashi returns. his hands almost shake when he opens the envelope filled with information about you - the real you.

the first thing he pulls out is a birth certificate. your real name is there - his eyes skim the information. when you were born, what hospital, what time. he notes it all down. feeds it into his brain.

he pulls out a bundle of pictures of you next tashi had taken - wrapped and secured with a rubber band. he takes it off. looks.

exhales.

oh, birdie.

his finger traces your face, reverent. he can't help it. its a picture of you leaving your apartment - its a rainy day - you're wearing a simple black coat and jeans. you're looking up at the sky - he soaks in your face. and he recognizes it, faintly.

his lab partner all those years ago. the shy one. you'd looked alot different then - but your eyes were the same. his chest burns. so it really was a lie then. had to be. how could you sit next to him everyday, right under his nose, and not say anything? to see the affect you were having? could you see him unraveling each day? did it make you laugh? you'd seemed so sweet. kind and quiet.

he almost fists the picture in his hand - the edges crinkling. he stops himself, though. smooths the picture back out. you really are pretty.

he looks through the rest of the pictures - one of you at work - one of you sitting on a bench - another of you crouched down to pet a cat.

they tell a story of a perfectly normal girl. a nice girl. a good girl. all things art knows you aren't capable of being. he fits the rubber band back over the bundle. he'll touch himself to them later - no doubt. mark your pretty face in ropes of his cum. he needs to plan now. other information in the envelope includes your apartment buildings name, room number, the location of the cafě you work at.

he finds tashi's note at the end peculiar. happy? you shouldn't be. the note was meant to unsettle you. he didn't know if you remembered him. but even still, receiving a note like that would be creepy for anyone. he doesn't understand you. it pisses him off. he needs to know everything about you the way you learned everything about him. he wants to study you until he knows the exact steps you'll take in the morning. he wants to be a presence looming in your life that fills you with dread. not just that. excitement, too. lust. fear. all things you'd made him feel. forced him to feel.

he'll make his next letter more frightening, then.

[zerobaselove]

zb1 as romance tropes / dynamics ♡

pairing: zb1 x reader

genre: fluff

warnings: none! lowercase intended, not proofread

notes: since i have already written one of these in full (childhood best friend!matthew) i might turn this into a full fledged series ? if you guys would be interested, that is! (yes the matthew one is pulled right from my oneshot </3 it's just too cute)

members under the cut!

jiwoong ;

best friend's older brother

"can you go ask my brother if he knows where the measuring cups are?" your best friend gyuvin asked, sifting through drawers to find the other items needed for your cake in the meantime. "i- i guess so." you managed to stutter out before heading up to the room at the end of the hallway, jiwoong's room.

you hated to admit it, especially knowing how many people swooned over your best friend's brother, but the longer time went on the more you felt yourself developing what you could only consider a crush on the boy; completely against your own will. it wouldn't have gotten this bad had you been able to avoid him, but when his younger brother is your best friend and you practically live at their house, he tends to be apart of your days more often than you know what to do with.

knocking lightly on the door you wait a moment, hearing some shuffling before the door opened. "what do you wa- oh." he paused, door ajar as he tried to hide the surprise on his face, "sorry y/n i thought you were gyuvin, what's up!" his tone and expression softened in tandem. you took a moment to respond, too busy staring at his messy hair and the way his collarbone peaked through his loose t-shirt.

"oh uh, we just needed to know where the measuring cups were." an awkward laugh left your mouth as you realized how silly the inquiry was, but thankfully you were met with a gentle smile as he shut the door behind him, "i'm not too sure, let's go look together."

zhang hao ;

cute exchange student

it had only been a few weeks since the new exchange student had moved in next door; the family having sent their daughter off to go study in china for a semester, getting an exchange student of their own in return. but the two of you were attached at the hip. you weren't really sure how it happened, one moment you were coming over to drop something off for your mom, the next you were being introduced to the boy, zhang hao, and suddenly you two spent every waking moment together.

you liked to think of yourself as a good influence; helping him better his english, showing him around your town, cooking him your favorite recipes that he may not have tried. all while you were getting the same experience in return from him, which was wonderful for you, but one thing you weren't expecting him to show you was what it felt like to fall for your new best friend.

"y/n?" he waved a hand in front of your face, pulling you from your thoughts of the boy himself, "are you okay? you look," he paused for a moment, trying to think of the word he wanted to use, "lost?" his tone raised, not sure of his choice, causing you to smile, "like, lost in thought?" you watched his smile light up, recognizing the phrase he was going for, "that's the one! you look lost in thought, are you okay?"

his sweet voice mixed with his endearing mannerisms was enough to have your head spinning, "i'm alright hao, just thinking about nonsense." his hand found it's way to rest over yours, "well you can always think out loud to me, i'll listen."

hanbin ;

campus crush

it shouldn't surprise you that the boy everyone on campus had a crush on was as cute and nice as he was, but you couldn't help but let your mouth run dry as he sat next to you and sparked up a conversation on the first day of your creative writing class. you hadn't managed to be in his presence until now, living vicariously through stories spread on campus; good deeds he had done for people, places he volunteered, even being the designated driver for his friends during parties. but god, you were starting to get what other people saw in him.

"you know," he smiled, his eyes lighting up so soon into your conversation, "i'm on the dance team, you should come watch us sometime!" you couldn't help but mirror his expression as you tried not to dwell on the way your heart sped up.

"i'd love to!" just when you thought he couldn't get cuter, his smile widened as his eyes shut slightly, before running a hand through his hair while he grabbed his phone. sliding his phone across the desk, open to his contacts page. "if you want you can put your number in and i can text you the details." you quickly nodded, inputting your number along with your name and the class code, just in case.

he giggled seeing the small detail, "d'you really think i wouldn't remember my new friend?" the comment left you a flushed mess, not knowing what to say. before you could say anything he continued, "don't worry, i think it's cute." god, you were screwed.

matthew ;

childhood best friend

"your turn to open your gift."

you hesitantly grabbed the box off of your bed, not having any clue what it could be. tearing through the messily strewn together paper and tape, you were met with a box, looking to matthew in curiosity only for him to urge you to continue. when you took the lid off, the sides of the box collapsed, revealing pictures of you from when you were kids up until graduation on layers of colorful paper and stickers. in the middle of it all was another, smaller box. lifting the lid off you revealed a cute charm of your favorite character attached to a keychain of a spotify code.

"it's a playlist i made for you," he couldn't contain the smile on his face at your excitement over the gift. "plus it's on a keychain so even when we are busy, you'll always have something to remind you of me with you." you couldn't help the tears pooling at your eyes, or the words threatening to spill. "god, i love you." you breathed out, your stomach doing flips at the confession.

"i love you too y/n." he smiled, a little taken aback by the confession as it wasn't something you two said lightly. you sighed, "no matthew, i love you. more than i should as your best friend." it took him a moment to realize what you were implying but once he connected the dots, it hit him like a truck, pulling you in for a hug as he picked you up off the floor.

you let out a giggle at the sudden action, not even thinking about what it could mean until he set you down and you noticed the way his cheeks had flushed a deep crimson red. "i'll say it again, i love you too y/n."

taerae ;

pretty boy with the pretty voice

your walks to work were typically uneventful, only choosing to do so over taking public transport for the exercise; until recently. like clockwork, every day, there had been a boy busking on the street you walked every afternoon, and his voice, well it was beautiful. you didn't even know the boy but somehow you felt his emotions through his voice.

you had started leaving for work earlier than usual, giving yourself a few extra minutes to sit and listen to the boy, who you had learnt was named taerae. with the extra time there, you two had begun to chat between songs, learning about each other and even getting to request songs sometimes. you'd always make sure to leave some tips in his guitar case before heading off to work, telling yourself you were just being supportive. but what you hadn't realized fully was just how smitten you had become with this taerae character.

"hey y/n!" he beamed, seeing you walk in his direction, just like every day, "hi taerae! how's it been going today?" you inquired, crouching next to him as your gaze wandered between the guitar and the boy. "same as usual, better now that you're here though!" you simply laughed, "i haven't even left you anything yet,"

"i know! i just like having you here." his voice trailed off for a moment before snapping back to reality, "any requests today?" you pondered for a moment, "play me your favorite song."

ricky ;

arranged relationship

"it'd be good for both companies darling," your father tried to be kind, knowing that this wasn't exactly how you were expecting your first relationship to go. "and he's very nice," your mother smiled at you, "and very handsome, i think you'll like him." you supposed it wouldn't do you any good to sulk over it, it wasn't just happening to you after all, so you cracked a small smile to ease your parents worries.

you didn't know much about ricky, if you were remembering his name correctly; just that he was the son of your parent's business friends, and was supposedly a candidate to be your boyfriend? the word seemed foreign to you, but you didn't have much time to dwell on it as a tall boy with blond hair walked into the lobby where you were waiting. "you must be y/n," he smiled, his voice soft; a strong contrast to his charismatic and intimidating looks.

"so you're ricky," you couldn't help but feel more relaxed already, "i've heard lots about you." he flushed a little at your words, his hand coming to the back of his neck, "good things i'd hope." you let out a small laugh, nodding your head, "nothing bad i promise."

the two of you talked for a while longer in the lobby, the awkward atmosphere slowly disappearing as the two of you realized just how much you had in common. maybe this wouldn't be so bad.

gyuvin ;

opposites attract

"hey y/n!" your best friend's booming voice could be heard from miles away, making the 20 feet between you seem like nothing. there he was, standing with a few of his friends, and you were a little overwhelmed to say the least.

the two of you couldn't be more different at times; his loud and outgoing personality was a stark contrast to your quiet and shy demeanor, but somehow you two got along better than anyone else. but you did still have a bit of a problem with his group of friends; they all seemed nice, that wasn't the problem, they were just all bubbly like gyuvin, and you didn't know how to handle that.

you gave a shy smile as you walked up to the group of boys, "hi gyuvin," you gave the other boys and small nod and wave, getting a bunch of greetings in return, "guys chill," gyuvin laughed, reaching his hand out to quiet his friends. "sorry about them, do you wanna get out of here?"

"what about you guys? don't you have plans?"

"yeah gyuvin hyung, don't we have plans?" the tall boy you were pretty sure was named gunwook, spoke up. "they'll be fine without me." gyuvin getting a few overly dramatic gasps from his friends, smacking them on the shoulder. your heart couldn't stop speeding up at the way he was willing to drop everything for you, but you tried to ignore it. "have fun with your little partner~" well, you couldn't ignore that.

gunwook ;

friendly rivals

"i didn't mean to overstep," the new boy, gunwook breathed out, "they just had asked for help and i didn't want to get off on the wrong foot by saying no." you smiled lightly at the boy, leaning your head against the mirrored dance practice wall, taking a sip of your water. "it's okay gunwook, it's my fault they don't see me as a better leader."

he turned to you, shaking his head feverishly, "no no no, listen. i know i haven't been here long but you seem to be an amazing leader," he patted you on the leg reassuringly, leaving you to smile at the boy. "thanks," your voice trailed off, your brain swirling with thoughts of critiques from your team.

it was time for your dance team to vote for a new leader as the new school year had turned over, and you were in danger of being overthrown by the new boy that everyone seemed to love, and you weren't handling it well; especially not when he's as cute and lovely as he is.

"i guess i'll just have to prove that i'm better for the role than you." a smug expression pasted on your face, you turned to the boy with a laugh, lightening the atmosphere. he returned with a wide gummy smile and a small giggle, "oh it's on y/n."

yujin ;

first crush / love

you suppose you were late to the game when it came to feelings, never having really experienced any until now; until you found yourself wanting to be the reason the boy in your class smiled. you and yujin weren't close, but you weren't strangers either. you had some mutual best friends, and had hung out all together a few times, but as soon as you weren't around your friends, it was like you didn't know each other. and you hated it.

"hi y/n," the voice pulled you from your thoughts, looking up from your desk to see yujin standing there, and for a moment you thought you were hallucinating. "oh, hey yujin," your voice trailed off a little, "what's up?" he leaned against your desk, gesturing to the board with written pairs for a project, and now you felt stupid for not paying attention. "oh shoot yeah, of course, uh, sit down." you pulled out the empty chair next to you, trying to make up for the embarrassment that you were living in.

the two of you looked over the criteria for your project, making plans for what you wanted to do, and before you knew it you were packing up. "so uh," yujin sheepishly smiled, handing you his phone, "so we can schedule to work on the project," he clarified.

you couldn't help but smile at his cute nature, "there you go," you handed it back to him, "text me what you wanna do, i have to go meet up with my friend." you smiled again as the bell rang, leaving the class almost proud of your ability to get one sentence out. this was gonna be a long project.

[moonstrider9904]

Pretty Thoughts

Part 3 of the Urban Flora mini series

Part 1 | Part 2 | Cross-posted to AO3 | Series Masterlist

Summary: You awaken to two truths - you are unmistakably in love with Crosshair, and you are both the main story on a popular gossip blog. Although this screams destruction for your reputation, what if it's a blessing in disguise?

Tags: Smut (18+ only), alcohol consumption, gossip, confrontation, female masturbation, vaginal sex, oral sex, creampie

Word count: 5.7k

Playlist: Pretty Thoughts by Alina Baraz

A/N: I've had the most fun writing and posting this series! Thank you to everyone who's read, commented, and shared! You are all the best. I hope you like the ending to this mini-series!

The nearly incessant beeping from your holopad woke you up after a night of heavy sleep. You were in that stage between your dreams and consciousness where you were just starting to make sense of things, and you reached to your nightstand for your holopad as you let out a groggy groan. When you unlocked it, your eyes widened at the screen, disregarding its glow on your pupils.

You had over 200 notifications among your messages and socials, and you quickly decided that couldn't be good.

You sat up on your bed and turned on your lamp - the sun was just beginning to rise outside, and the blinds in your bedroom blocked most of whatever light could come in anyways. You crossed your legs and held your holopad in front, and you opted to check your direct messages from any friends. First, you checked the messages from your closest friend, Pen, whom you rarely saw, but you could always confide in, and your heart nearly leapt from your chest when you saw the picture of Crosshair wearing the outfit he had on the day before, looking at the camera with a hint of confusion, but still composed and handsome as he normally was, and you recognized the area he was standing in as the street just outside the motel you had visited the day before.

Below the image, Pen's text read: Daaayum! Are all clones this fine? Why didn't you tell me you were seeing someone?

You closed out of her conversation and went onto your ongoing conversation with a different friend, Eloise, the daughter of the Senator from Corellia: Heads up, you and your mystery man made it to Scandal Gal.

Below, she had attached the full screenshot of the blog post, and below Crosshair’s picture, you read the caption:

Wakey wakey, high society: Sweetie's mystery man appears to be a silver fox dream. My sources say he was spotted entering a hotel with Sweetie and then leaving it, with our damsel of the moment seen leaving earlier than him, apparently glowing. While we may be left to fantasize about the happenings within the motel's walls, what I'm more interested to know is if this handsome young soldier is willing to introduce any of his brothers to us poor, starving gals. Consider me first in line.

With your heart pounding in your chest, you did what you knew you shouldn't have done and went over to Scandal Gal's blog and read the comments, though to your surprise, none of the comments were dragging you. You'd half expected to be called a slut by every commenter, but most of the thirsty girls in the blog were fawning at how handsome Crosshair was. You didn't particularly like a horde of girls digitally cat-calling your man, but you preferred that over a ruined reputation.

Overnight, you had become a phenomenon. What started as a picture with a few comments speculating about your encounter at the opera was now a full-fledged story that easily hundreds of people around the east side of Coruscant were following. You read multiple comments talking wonders about Crosshair, others talking wonders about you, very many admiring your relationship and how attractive you both looked together—and a few comments here and there dragging you and/or Crosshair, as expected, but overall, you and Crosshair had taken over the holonet for all the right reasons.

You wanted to laugh, but a part of it freaked you out as well. You’d never made a high profile of yourself. You’d always enjoyed your spoils in life in as private a way as possible, and the few times you’d actually made it to Scandal Gal had been because a dress you wore somewhere was beautiful, not because of your love life.

And only then, it hit you—did Crosshair know about this? And if he did, how would he take it?

Catastrophizing wouldn’t get you anywhere. You got up from your bed and put on your bathrobe, which rested on the armrest of the cozy chair next to your bed. You opened the blinds of your bedroom and took a moment to admire the Coruscant skyline with the sun making its way up the sky, dancing with a few clouds against the light blue hue. You exited your bedroom and headed past your living room with your holopad in hand, towards the kitchen to brew your coffee. As the coffee brewed, you opened the blinds to the rest of your apartment and basked in the morning peace far away from any whispers of scandal that lived in your holopad. You figured that was the bright side of it all—whether it was good talk or bad talk, it only lived in your holopad, and it wasn’t going to make its way into your calm morning.

The calm was interrupted when the door to your apartment flew open, and your mother seemed to glide inside, letting the door close behind her. Her eyes scanned the apartment until they found you, and you couldn’t decide if she was angry at you or not. At the sight of you, your mother sighed—even in her apparent disappointment, which you wouldn’t pretend not to know the cause of, your mother had a regal stance worthy of the senator of Coruscant, with her dark beige suit and her expertly done hair; even her floral scent that commanded respect.

You tried to be as nonchalant as possible, gesturing at the coffee brewer with your hand and raising your eyebrows. Your mother sighed again and shook her head, and instead, she gestured with her chin at the holopad that rested on your counter.

“Have you opened that thing this morning?” She asked you.

“Yes,” you uttered.

“Darling, what were you thinking?” Your mother now seemed more worried than angry at you. “Do you at least know this man well enough?”

“Well enough to know I’m head over heels for him,” you admitted.

“And then there’s that ridiculous gossip site,” your mom continued. “I tell myself it’s no big deal, just a little source of entertainment for spoiled rich teens with nothing better to do, but I can’t fathom the fact that now they’re picking on you. I’m too nervous to read any of the posts or the comments thinking about all the horribly unkind things everyone’s sharing about you… people can be so cruel.”

You sighed. “I know, but, Mom… as far as I’ve checked, the things Scandal Gal and the readers are saying aren’t that bad…”

“Meaning?” She inquired.

You couldn’t help but chuckle. “They love him. They’re saying he’s devastatingly handsome and fawning over him, some of them even want to go stand outside the clone bar to see if they can get boyfriends.”

“But what are they saying about you?” She asked.

“I’m a hero. They like my dress, the scarf I wore, and the man I’m with. I think there’s an ongoing wager as to whether or not I’ll marry him,” you delivered blankly.

Your mother’s eyes widened, and you held in your laughter at her reaction.

“Mom, relax,” you said. “I’m not saying I will. But I do really like him. And all things considered, I expected mayhem, and even if there are a few mean things here and there, they don’t compare to how good most of the responses are.”

“That’s rare,” your mother admitted. “And I suppose you’re right, you can’t control what everyone says.”

“And I won’t try to,” you agreed. “I’m just saying it could be a lot worse and if it’s not as bad as I thought it could be, I’m gonna embrace it.”

For a split second, your mother looked at you in plain disbelief. Regardless, she sighed, straightened her back, and gathered herself, and she met your gaze again with understanding.

“Alright, now tell me, who is this man?” She asked.

“He’s the sniper who took out the assassin who tried to kill the Chancellor,” you said as you poured your cup of coffee.

Your mom raised her eyebrows. “Oh.”

“Oh?” You raised your eyebrows too, pouring another cup for your mother.

“I met him at the start of the opera,” she explained. “I even invited him to our box, but he said he already had one, he didn’t want to refuse it and seem rude.”

“Yeah, he was invited because of his efforts,” you said. “In fact, I… I met him during the final intermission at the opera. We got to talking and he’s just… fascinating.”

Those were all the details you’d give to your mother about that night.

Your mother’s demeanor seemed to soften as she drank from the coffee you’d given her. With a soft exhale, she set the cup down on the counter and pressed her hands together in front of her chest, avoiding your gaze for a few moments.

“Sweetie, I don’t want you to think I’m exploiting your relationship with this man,” she began.

You tilted your head. That was one of the last things you’d expected her to say.

She then met your gaze. “But this is actually a very good look.”

“What, for you?” You asked.

Your mother chuckled. “I have spent months collaborating with Senator Chuchi to pass a clone rights bill. When your… boyfriend…”

You chuckled. “Crosshair.”

She nodded slowly. “Right. When Crosshair saved the Chancellor’s life, we got a lot more support, but we’re not quite there yet. Too many people view the clones as vessels bred for combat, not as actual human beings with human emotions and human needs. And, as triumphant as Crosshair was in saving the Chancellor, his effort was still that of a soldier, hence why we’re, as I said…”

“Not quite there yet,” you continued. “And… you think that if I’m public with him, so public that people are talking about relationships and gossiping like they do with anyone else in our society, he’ll look more human.”

“And by extension, the rest of the clones,” your mother added. “It just might shift the tide in favor of finally giving them some more rights.”

You smiled softly and took another ship of your coffee. “I love the sound of that. I just don’t know how I feel about scheming regarding Crosshair.”

“Be honest with him, then,” your mother suggested. “If you’re not on board, be as private as you possibly can, I won’t hold it against you. It was just an idea. And now that I think about it…”

You looked up at her again, waiting for what else she had to say.

“We do have that art gala coming up tonight,” she suggested. “Why don’t you invite him?”

You nodded slowly. “I’ll ask him. I wouldn’t mind getting all fancy and seeing him, but for starters, he needs to want to go.”

“He went to the opera, didn’t he?”

“Well, yes, but that was an invitation of honor,” you answered. “And he didn’t seem like a fish out of water, but I can’t help thinking this just isn’t what he’s used to.”

Your mother gazed at you sincerely. “Don’t you cage him into the label of a soldier, too. If you like this man and you want to be with him, you’re going to have to realize he’s more than that.”

You raised both of your brows. You knew she was right, and to have heard that coming from your mother, it meant volumes. You barely ever approached what she did inside the senate, but you pondered on how much her words made sense based on what little she’d shared with you about her efforts with the Pantoran senator. And even if she wasn’t trying to pass a clone rights bill, she was still right—Crosshair was a living, breathing man, and even though you knew he was a soldier, you hadn’t met him as such. You’d seen him at a high society gathering over drinks. You’d shared coffee and bantered with him, kissed him under the rain, made love to him time and time again until you couldn’t get him out of your thoughts.

As soon as your mother left, you reached for your holopad and ignored the multiple notifications you had, heading straight for Crosshair’s frequency number and typing out your message at least three times before sending it, trying to find the most chill way to invite him to the art gala. You sent the message and waited for the reply, frantically scurrying to your holopad anytime it vibrated. For a while, he didn’t answer, and before you lost hope, you finally saw the notifications coming in from Crosshair.

Can’t resist another little encounter with me, can’t you, Sweetie?

You chuckled, but you felt nervous at the same time. That obviously meant he’d been, in some way, exposed to Scandal Gal too.

How fancy do I have to dress? His next message came in shortly after.

You chuckled at your phone and typed back: Fancy enough to knock everyone dead.

Instantly, Crosshair replied: ’Kay. I’ll be there.

After you texted him all the details of the event, you went about your day with a twinge of excitement sprinkled over your every move. The sun made its way around the sky until it was time for you to get ready for the event, and for this occasion, you chose a dark purple dress paired with long black gloves and no necklace, since you’d be wearing your hair down your shoulders. The dress’s top had a black ribbon outlined in the shape of a triangle, with the base at your waist, and it was filled with discreet black sequins. On the right shoulder, where the dress’s top met your sleeve, you placed a dark gray brooch that your mother had given you on your eighteenth birthday, and looking at yourself in the mirror, you were almost ready to go. You did your makeup and grabbed your purse, and then you went out the door to the nightlife of Coruscant, where your mother was already waiting at the bottom of the building with a vehicle.

Your pulse was racing for the whole ride, knowing you would meet Crosshair there. You clutched your purse with both hands over your pressed thighs, and you could feel beads of sweat forming in your palms, having to take deep breaths from time to time to keep yourself steady. The vehicle finally arrived at the gala and parked just in front of the red carpet you were meant to walk on, and only then it dawned on you that multiple pairs of eyes thirsting for scandal would be on you. But you wouldn’t back out, not now, not when you were the very image of elegance in society about to meet with your Silver Fox Dream, as Scandal Gal had put it.

You resolved to knock them all dead too.

The door on your side of the vehicle was opened by an usher, and you stepped out, straightening your posture and taking in the scenery of flashing cameras and excited partygoers, and confident as you looked, your heartbeat hadn’t calmed down in the slightest. You looked around, scanning for the only person you were interested in seeing.

And soon enough, your eyes landed on him. His attire was possibly better than the one he wore the night of the opera, with a slim fit pitch-black suit and shirt, adorned with a burgundy vest under the coat, and rich red rose in his breast pocket. Crosshair’s watchful eyes gazed back at you, and as you remained still in front of your vehicle while your mother got out, Crosshair made his way to you, letting you behold every detail on him as he got closer to you, and when he was finally right in front of you, you took in all of him.

Crosshair was strikingly debonair, undeniably gorgeous, charming in his pride and confidence. He even smelled incredible. His tall figure seemed to loom protectively over you, complimenting your lack of height when you stood next to him, and you both made such a perfect pair you almost hoped that gossiping teenage girls were in proximity to behold your beauty, perhaps even eat their hearts out as a treat for you.

“Miss,” Crosshair greeted as he took your hand and brought it up to his lips, placing a soft kiss to your knuckles.

His gentle kiss ignited every inch of your skin as you briefly remembered the moments of passion you’d already shared with that man. You gave him a demure smile, taking one step closer to him, wishing with every fiber of your body to wrap your arms around his neck and pull him in for a kiss not unlike the one you’d had under the rain the day before, but perhaps it wasn’t the time or place for such a public display. Moreover, as Crosshair was lowering your hand down from his gesture, your mother exited the vehicle and appeared at your side, smiling at Crosshair.

He acknowledged her and gave her the hint of a smile, taking a slight bow. “Ma’am.”

He held out his hand, offering her the chance to be greeted in a similar way as you, and to your surprise, your mother obliged.

“It’s wonderful to see you again,” your mother said to him. “I didn’t know you’d met my daughter until this morning.”

“She’s a wonderful lady, ma’am,” Crosshair responded without a hint of hesitation or insecurity.

You were in awe at how easily he was getting along with your mother as the two continued to make small conversation, and soon enough, your mom went ahead and entered the building, with you and Crosshair following behind, your arm linked in his. Camera flashes on you weren’t scarce, and in the distance, you could hear high-pitched cries of “There they are!” and “They’re so hot together!”

You couldn’t help but laugh softly at yourself.

“Basking in your triumph?” Crosshair broke the silence between you.

“What do you mean?” You asked.

“That was a bold move, inviting me here, introducing me to your mother,” he continued, his features holding the sternness they usually did, but you picked up on no disgust on his behalf.

“Yeah, well…” You said. “Overnight, we kind of became public figures, you and me. There’s this gossip site that’s been following me around for a while, nothing major, but when you and I started talking at the opera, we got popular.”

“Ah, Scandal Gal,” Crosshair mused. “Yes, I was approached and stalked by a teen.”

You nearly snorted trying to hold in your laughter. “What?”

“The picture of me that’s on that site was taken by a sixteen-year-old girl,” Crosshair said, smirking. “Somehow, I’m more afraid of gossip-hungry teens than I am of tactical droids.”

You chuckled. “They’re formidable, alright.”

“So… you’re feeding them what they want by bringing me here?” He continued the conversation.

“No, not exactly,” you replied. “That’s a side effect. Because of Scandal Gal, my mom rushed over to my place this morning panicking a little, but I explained to her that… well…”

You and Crosshair had just reached the bar of the opulent salon where the gala was being held, and you both took a seat on your respective stools. Crosshair eyed you with intrigue as you trailed off, prompting you to speak up, and you realized why you’d stopped yourself from saying what you wanted to say.

But this was Crosshair. He was a dream incarnate, and you were already there with him, a striking and attractive couple that commanded everyone’s attention, and you found yourself smiling at him as your pulse rose once more.

“That I… I feel a lot for you,” you said. “That I really like you, Crosshair, and this isn’t a meaningless fling for the sake of shock value to me.”

Crosshair maintained eye contact with you, and his features softened ever so slightly, so discreetly that an untrained eye wouldn’t have been able to notice. He broke eye contact with you to gesture at the bartender and order drinks for both of you, and then he turned back to you, with his lips curving to a smirk.

“Well, well,” he hummed. “How touching.”

It was good that he didn’t appear repulsive at your sentiments, but your poor, racing heart would need a more precise answer. Then, Crosshair’s smirk widened, and he looked down at his knees, letting his inner softness glow through if only for a moment.

“It’s not meaningless for me either,” he replied.

You smiled brightly and exhaled the tension from your chest. “Really?”

“Really,” he answered.

“Then… there’s something else you should know,” you said.

And you then explained how your mother wouldn’t use you both, but that you were supporting her cause in the senate, how him being exposed to something other than the front lines would put clones in a more human light, at least to the members of the senate who were still on the fence. You even gave Crosshair the opportunity to back out immediately if he felt like his strings were being pulled, but all the while, Crosshair remained with that serene smile at you, and when you were done talking, Crosshair reached for your hands and held them in his.

“Does this bill mean I’ll get paid more?” He asked.

You laughed openly, and he chuckled in return just as the drinks he’d ordered were placed beside you by the bartender.

“Sweetie,” he said to you. “I don’t care much about the other things. Not Scandal Gal, not the Senate, although that bill sounds decent. I came here to be with you because I can’t get you out of my brain. You’re not what I pictured a high-society woman to be, and… well…”

You smiled softly at him, and now it was your turn to prompt him to speak.

“Now that you’ve introduced me to your mother,” he said, “I hope I get the chance to introduce you to my brothers too.”

Your smile widened. “You’d do that?”

He nodded, smiling softly at you. “You’re a smart girl, you can handle it.”

You laughed and reached for your drink, an Urban Flora cocktail that could have been an exact replica of the one you drank when you first met Crosshair at the opera. You took a sip of it without breaking eye contact with Crosshair, and when you lowered your drink, you raised a brow at him.

“But can you handle the Coruscant high societal scene?” You asked.

Crosshair took a sip of his own drink, the smoky, rich Corellian whisky he loved so much, and he leaned in closer to you, close enough for you to smell the smooth, luscious drink on his breath.

“Try me, Sweetie,” he purred.

You giggled, and you both gently bumped your glasses together, and you went on to continue talking about whatever sparked your interest as you finished your drinks. Crosshair told you about his missions, his brothers, even a couple of anecdotes of when he was a young cadet. In turn, you told him about your days as a schoolgirl, your plans for the future, what you liked to do in your spare time, the planets you longed to visit all over the galaxy. And then, when the glasses were empty and the conversation was fulfilled, you and Crosshair stood up from the bar and went around the room, and you greeted most of your friends and acquaintances as well as introduced Crosshair to all of them. Crosshair was a flying success with everyone, and you couldn’t help but gawk at him just a little. The night wore on as smoothly as velvet, until it was getting late, and you were bound to return home.

You directed a look at Crosshair, a look that was filled with allure, and he reciprocated. Quick goodbyes were said, and soon, you were sitting with Crosshair at the back of your vehicle as the chauffeur flew you home. As you sat together, you were in silence, and though Crosshair was great with words, you’d learned he was far better with his actions, and he reached for the rose on his breast pocket and handed it to you. You smiled at him, slightly flustered, and for the remainder of the ride, you scooched closer to him and leaned your weight on him, eager to arrive at the privacy of your apartment.

You had no intention of waiting. After you and Crosshair had left the vehicle, the moment the elevator doors closed behind you, you were both on each other. Your hands ran all over his back as you both locked lips, hungrily devouring each other in that small space, and you then let your palms rest on his chest. Crosshair took each of your hands and tugged gently at your middle fingertips, enough to hold onto the gloves you wore as you slid your hands down and the delicate fabric came off, exposing your skin. You heard Crosshair shudder softly before he took you into his arms again, kissing you as passionately as before, and you both felt the elevator pulling to a stop.

You gathered yourselves—there was no need to surprise someone waiting for the elevator with a steamy scene—but when you found there was no one there to see you, you and Crosshair held hands as you made your way over to your penthouse, and the moment the door closed behind you both, you were on each other’s lips once more. Your wandering hands removed his coat and his vest, and he found the zipper at the back of your dress. He lowered the zipper, causing the dress’s blouse to fall limply around your silhouette, and you took a step back, wanting him to watch as you wiggled out of the dress and let the fabric fall gracefully on the floor, leaving you to step out of it.

Crosshair eyed you hungrily as you approached him. Your breasts hung freely at your front, and he didn’t miss the hickey he’d left on your ribs the day before. On your hips, there was a pair of lace black panties, but the top prize was easily taken by the stockings that covered you from the middle of your thighs to your toes, which he couldn’t make himself tear his gaze from. You chuckled and took his hands, leading him slowly into your bedroom, and he followed you blissfully until you were at the foot of your bed.

You let go of him and sat back all the way to your headboard. You pressed your legs together and slowly slid your panties away from you, tossing them aside, and you spread your legs to show him, never once breaking eye contact with him. Your gaze was alluring, slightly teasing, and Crosshair watched. He watched as you spread your legs and took your hand to your inner thigh, teasing your skin, until your fingers finally brushed fully over your folds and your clit. You let out a playful gasp, smirking at him and taunting him, and as he watched, Crosshair began to undress. Your smirk widened, and you continued to touch yourself in the way you most liked, delighted by the sight of him losing the clothes that covered him. Your cunt was wet and swollen, pulsating and sensitive, all you needed to do was increase your pace ever so slightly and you’d tip yourself over the edge—as Crosshair crawled onto the mattress, you decided to give him the full show. Making sure his eyes were still on you, you applied more pressure onto your clit and used your three middle fingers to rub, and looking into his eyes, you finally got to enjoy the waves of your orgasm.

You reveled in how hungry Crosshair looked, pleased and aroused by the little show you put on for him. Crosshair couldn’t help but take his hand over to his cock, pumping slowly as he watched you pleasing yourself, until your orgasm faded, and your moans quieted when you removed your hand. You found Crosshair’s gaze and pouted at him, holding your hand in front of you and curling your finger, beckoning him to come to you. With a smirk, Crosshair obliged, and he positioned himself between your legs, planting soft kisses around your inner thighs before brushing his tongue lusciously over your folds. He moaned into your skin, and you whimpered in return, dazed and sensitive after your antics.

As Crosshair continued to please you with his skilled tongue and lips, you suddenly felt his fingers finding yours. You spread your hand before interlacing your fingers with his, holding him as he brought you closer to another release. Your body squirmed harder than it had the first time around, the white-hot ecstasy seeming to explode within every fiber of your body. You didn’t hold back with your moaning, letting his name escape you many a time, enticed by the velvety texture of his tongue contrasting with the raspiness surrounding his jawline.

When Crosshair emerged from between your legs, you tugged on him, prompting him to rest at your eye level. You wanted to feel him close to you, and Crosshair knew what it was you desired. With your legs still spread, you rested back and let him take the lead, feeling as he slowly inserted himself within your tight, warm walls. You both moaned in unison and stared deeply into each other’s eyes as he began his thrusts slowly, luxuriously letting you feel everything. Your lips begged for his, and you perked your face up to kiss him as you felt your body gently bouncing on the mattress in his rhythm. Crosshair’s kisses made you float higher and higher, and drenched in pleasure and ecstasy, you felt like you were in paradise. Crosshair was truly capable of taking you there.

Crosshair paused his kisses on your lips and lifted himself to look at you, his gaze stern and seductive as he increased the snapping of his hips. He grunted as he hammered into you, shuddering and twitching inside you in anticipation, soon unable to contain soft groans and whimpers. Crosshair looked straight into your eyes, flooded by adoration of you, until the pleasure was too much for him to keep his eyes open even as much as he wanted to gaze into you. His eyes shut and the rhythm of his hips became unfathomably fast, and so too, you descended into bliss for the third time that night. You smiled amidst your orgasm, chiming his name in a delicious moan, your hand still securely holding his as he released inside you and fell limp on the mattress beside you afterwards.

You both panted, each your own dazed and flustered mess as you made futile attempts to recover, but as much as you were both unable to do much else, you remained holding each other’s hands. As time passed, you soon felt Crosshair’s thumb brushing delicately up and down your finger, and you watched him with a tender gaze. You felt you’d fall asleep right there, and if you did, you knew you would want for nothing. You knew you’d have nothing to worry about for as long as you were together, and the pain of temporary separations would be worth it if it was Crosshair you would wait for.

And there on your mattress, filled with love, resolve, and exhaustion, you drifted off into sleep.

A gentle sunlight and the song of birds woke you up. You noticed the space beside your bed was empty, and you didn’t waste time getting up and placing your robe over you as you sought out your lover. You walked over to the living room and your attention was drawn to the balcony, where he stood with his back turned on you, shirtless and wearing his pants from the night before, gazing out at the scenery.

You took a moment to admire him and the way his skin appeared golden under the morning sun, contrasting almost artistically with the green plants on your balcony, the blue sky, and the skyline ahead. With soft steps, you approached him and stepped out onto the balcony, and you wrapped your arms around his waist from behind, pressing a soft kiss on his shoulder blade. Crosshair delicately shuffled and brought your figure next to him, draping his arm around you, and you both stood in silence for a few peaceful moments, watching the scenery.

“What are you watching?” You asked him, knowing it was in his nature to observe.

His amber eyes scanned the scenery, and he almost looked humbled. He had the face of an innocent life being beholding the universe ahead of them, realizing how small they truly were in comparison to the greatness of creation itself.

“Out there, as soldiers,” Crosshair began, “it often feels like we fight because it’s all we know. We were made for it. Myself, my brothers, more obviously bred for different purposes, all to serve one war. But aside from why we were created, we never really stop to think what we’re fighting for.”

You looked up at him, watching his features soften in realization as he spoke. Crosshair then angled his body more towards you, and he held you tighter, pressing you to the warmth of his skin, watching you with the most tender gaze you had ever felt on you.

“I won’t forget this next time I’m on the battlefield,” he continued.

“You mean, Coruscant?” You asked. “The Republic, these people, this skyline… peace?”

He smiled. “I mean you.”

You smiled at him, devoted.

Crosshair chuckled. “All of that, too, but, mostly you.”

“Oh, Crosshair,” you wrapped your arms around him and perked on your toes, requesting a kiss.

Crosshair obliged and kissed you gently, almost carefully, feeling as the sunshine draped over his skin. He wished he could remain there longer, but he had a duty, a duty that had brought him to you, and a duty that he had to fulfill in order to one day be with you more properly. He knew that, with you on Coruscant waiting for him, he’d always have a reason to return, and a reason to keep fighting. He’d never thought of a life besides being a soldier, but if you were in it, it couldn’t be so bad.

And out there, on that balcony, Crosshair held you close to him until the very last moment he could spare with you, until he had to leave again to be a soldier, always with the promise of returning to you.

*

This just in: Sweetie and Sniper Man are still together and far more public now that I and my loyal sources have done our job ;) I do think we have a power couple in our midst, and the next time these two show up at a fancy event dressed to impress, you’ll hear about it from none other than yours truly. I certainly wish the happy couple all the best, and my challenge towards Sniper Man to bring forth more eligible men from the fine and respectable GAR still stands. Help us gals out, Sniper Man, we all love you so much, and we can’t let Sweetie keep all the spoils!

Yours truly!

Thank you for reading! Please consider reblogging to support me!

Back to masterlist

[loveroftoomanyfandoms]

Every Little Thing She Does is Magic, Chapter 1

Pairing: Platonic Steven Grant x Reader (for now)

Rating: T

Word count: ~3150

Story Summary: Steven meets a beautiful woman in the Egyptian exhibit at the British Museum...

...Too bad she's his new boss.

Tags/Warnings: Canon Divergent since Steven still works for the British Museum post-canon, No Jake Lockley, developing friendship

A/N: Welcome to the start of my first Steven Grant story! This will be multiple chapters (not exactly sure how many, although I don't expect it to get too long.)

If you'd like to be added to the taglist for this (or any of my other writing), please let me know!

Title from the song of the same name by The Police.

Steven Grant whistled cheerfully to himself as he ascended the steps of the British Museum. He had managed to successfully translate the hieroglyphic code he had been working on for the past week, gotten a full night's rest, and had even caught the early bus to work.

He checked his watch. Eh, I've got a bit before I have to clock in. Might as well pop by the Egyptian exhibit to see if they changed the placard for Mekhet yet.

He headed over to the exhibit, sighing with disappointment when he noticed that the placard was still incorrect. It's been three months. The least they could do is place a temporary sign until a new, permanent one came in.

He was just about to go put his bag in his employee locker and clock in early when a woman walked up next to him and began reading the placard on the statue.

“You know, that's actually wrong,” Steven said.

The woman glanced over at him. “Excuse me?”

Steven placed her accent as American, but couldn't pinpoint the region. Must be on holiday. He pointed at the placard. “The placard. It says that this is Menhit when it's really Mekhit.”

The woman looked at the placard, then back at the statue. “Oh, is it really?”

Steven nodded. “Menhit was actually a solar goddess, representing the brow of Ra and depicted by a reclining lioness, while Mekhit was the goddess of war, which is why she's depicted as a roaring lioness.”

The woman smiled at Steven. “Well that makes sense.”

“She was also known as the ‘Eye of Ra’,” Steven continued, encouraged by her friendliness. “It was said that the Eye left Ra and transformed itself into a lioness, after which it was hunted down and returned by Onuris, then it transformed into Menhit, which explains the similar names. And there's also Mehit, with no k or n, who was associated with the moon and was also depicted as a reclining lioness, but with three sticks behind her.”

The woman chuckled. “Imagine someone in Ancient Egypt accidentally praying to the wrong god or goddess because of a spelling error. Like, ‘oops, sorry, I meant for Mut to help me, not Nut ’.”

Steven grinned. “I've been trying to get my bosses to fix it for months now, but honestly I shouldn't be surprised. Took them ages to correct the banner depicting the Ennead. Only seven of them were on there when there were supposed to be nine.”

The woman glanced over at the banner, which now included all nine of the Ennead. “Oh, so you work here?”

Steven nodded. “Oh, er, sorry, yeah. I'm not just some nutter chatting you up in the Egyptian exhibit, I promise.”

The woman laughed. “Well either way, you're very knowledgeable about Egyptian history.”

“Oh, I love history, especially ancient Egyptian history. I find it fascinating.” Steven bit his lip. “Is it alright if I show you my favorite exhibit? It's just right over there.”

The woman nodded. “Sure.”

Steven led her over to the statue of Hathor. “This is Hathor -- Egyptian goddess of music, joy, pleasure and love.”

The woman grinned. “I see why she's your favorite. She gets all the fun stuff.”

Steven chuckled. “She was also goddess of beauty and the protector of women, and she was considered one of the most powerful of all the gods and goddesses. Early cosmetics and mirrors were left at her temples as offerings.”

The woman smiled. “She sounds pretty amazing.”

Steven nodded. “Oh, she was. In fact, it's said she--”

“Oy! Stevie!”

Steven startled at the sound of Donna's voice. “Oh, bollocks,” he muttered. ‘I'm sorry, I've got to run.”

The woman nodded. “That's quite alright. It was nice meeting you… Stevie, was it?”

Steven shook his head. “Actually, it's Steven. With a ‘v'.”

“Nice meeting you, ‘Steven-with-a-v’.”

“You too.”

Steven tried to hurry away but was accosted by Donna, who immediately began to give him an earful. “How many times do I have to tell you, don't bother the visitors!” she hissed loudly. “The new museum director's coming in today and the last thing she needs to see is employees faffing about.”

“But I’m not -- wait, new director?” Steven vaguely remembered Donna mentioning a few weeks prior that the museum board had finally hired a new director. “Who is it?”

Donna shrugged. “I dunno, some poncy American. Anyway, as I've said before, you're not a bloody tour guide. Your job is to sell overpriced rubbish to whiny little brats and their caretakers. Now, I want the gift shop fully stocked and in tip-top shape by the time the new director arrives. You should've been doing that already instead of dawdling.”

Steven glanced back at the woman, who was now studying the hieroglyphics on one of the nearby sarcophagi. “But I'm not -- I was just --”

Donna rolled her eyes. “Yeah, yeah, flirt on your own time. Not like she'd be interested in the likes of you anyway, innit?”

“But I wasn't --” Steven sighed as Donna stalked off. “Okay then, good talk.”

He trudged over to the staff lounge area, stashed his messenger bag in his locker, and clocked in before heading to the gift shop.

He cringed when he saw the state of it. Clearly no one had bothered restocking after the gaggle of families and tour groups had blown through over the weekend. This'll take me all bloody day. Luckily Mondays are usually pretty quiet.

He quickly pinned his name tag to his shirt and began to straighten and organize the various plushies and knickknacks between customers, making note of what he needed to grab more of from the storage room.

He was organizing the Seshat figurines several hours later when Donna walked out of her office. “Oy, Stevie, the new boss lady wants a word with you upstairs.”

Steven swallowed nervously. “Me? What for?”

Donna shrugged, a slight smirk on her face. “You know, I heard that there was a bit of a shakeup coming with the new regime but I thought it'd at least be a few days before you got sacked. Guess not.”

Bollocks, Steven thought. Hopefully there's at least a decent severance package. “Okay. Well, off I go then.”

He set down the last figurine and headed out of the gift shop towards the lifts. “Maybe they'll at least let me finish my shift before they give me the boot,” he wondered aloud as he pressed the button to call the lift.

“Why are you so worried?” Marc replied in his head. “You don't even like this job.”

“I do like it,” Steven protested, catching Marc's face in the reflection of the shiny metal doors. “Well, sort of. And anyway, we can't afford our flat without it.”

Marc was quiet for a moment. “I got some money,” he finally said as the lift arrived. “From Dad, after Mom… Well anyway, I've never touched it so that should keep you afloat for a little while until you find another job.”

The ride up to the 5th floor was one of the longest of Steven's life. He stepped out of the lift, nervously trying to tame his wild curls but ultimately just making his hair more messed up. Oh, bollocks.

He walked down the hall to the door marked Director and knocked.

“Come in,” a voice said.

Steven took a deep breath and entered.

He froze. Standing behind the museum director's desk was the woman he had been talking to in the Egyptian exhibit before Donna had spotted him. “Oh, erm…” Just my bloody buggering luck.

The visitor from earlier (the new museum director, you bloody great twit, he corrected himself) smiled warmly. “Hello again, ‘Steven-with-a-v’.”

“Er, hello, Miss.” Steven could see his employee file open on the director's desk and began mentally going over their entire interaction from earlier, trying to figure out what exactly he had done in order to get sacked so quickly. He hadn't been on the clock at the time so it wasn't like he actually had been dawdling instead of working, and he hadn't really complained about his job beyond mentioning that the display placard for Mekhit was incorrect and about how long it took for the banner depicting the Ennead to be corrected.

The director motioned to the chair in front of her desk. “Have a seat.”

Steven sat as the director took her seat as well. 

The director folded her hands in front of her and placed them on her desk. “First of all,” she began, “apologies for not introducing myself earlier. My name is Y/F/N Y/L/N, and I'm the new director here at the museum. I'm sure you're wondering why I've called you to my office, especially so soon after starting my tenure here.”

“Er, yes ma'am,” Steven replied nervously, glancing up at the framed Ph.D hanging on the wall before once again looking at his open employment record.

Dr. Y/L/N slid Steven's file over to her and studied it for a moment. “You work in the gift shop, is that correct?”

Bollocks, here it comes. “Yes, ma'am.”

“You've never had any interest in becoming a tour guide, have you?”

“I'm sorry, ma’am, I wasn't trying to --” Steven blinked rapidly as her words registered. “Wait, what?”

Dr. Y/L/N looked up from his file. “Tour guide. You ever thought about it?”

Steven nodded. “All the time, actually. It's what I dream of doing.”

“Then why haven't you ever applied for an open tour guide position?”

Because Donna keeps telling me that there's no way it would ever happen, so why bother? “Well I, er…”

Dr. Y/L/N leaned back in her chair. “We actually have a current opening for the Visitor Engagement Specialist position… if you're interested, that is.”

Steven was speechless. “Visitor Engagement Specialist? But that's -- that's the head of programming and tours.”

Dr. Y/L/N nodded. “Yes, that's right. I'd like to offer you the position.”

She gestured towards his employee file. “I've read over your CV, Steven, and you're more than qualified.”

Steven was still processing. What the bloody hell is happening? 

Sounds like you're not getting fired, Marc answered. Quite the opposite, in fact.

Steven shook his head. “Even if I applied for the position, wouldn't I need to interview for it as well?”

Dr. Y/L/N’s lips turned up in a small smile. “Oh, but you already have.” 

Steven’s brow furrowed. “I have?” 

Dr. Y/L/N nodded. “The museum’s visitor numbers have been declining lately, so over the weekend I took a few tours to see how they could be improved, and to be quite honest I learned more from speaking to you for 10 minutes in the Egyptian exhibit than from taking 3 separate hour-long tours throughout the entire museum. You certainly had me enraptured during our conversation about Mekhit and Hathor this morning.”

She gave Steven a warm smile. “I would consider that enough of an interview to offer you the position, wouldn't you?”

Steven huffed out a nervous chuckle. “I -- I suppose so, ma’am.”

“The current tours are stale and boring,” Dr. Y/L/N continued. “And the guides themselves could use some, well, guidance  from someone with your knowledge of and enthusiasm for history and folklore. I think you could plan some wonderfully engaging tours.”

Steven rubbed the back of his neck. “Well, I do have some ideas on how the current tours could be improved… So, er, what exactly does the position entail?”

“You'd work closely with the Curatorial department to develop programming and tours based on what we have on exhibit at the time while concurrently managing the Programming department. Of course, that would include being on the regular tour rotation as well as handling any specialized tours -- large groups, VIP guests, and the like. I know it would be a lot of work, but the position also comes with your own office as well as a sizable increase in pay.” Dr. Y/L/N quoted a figure that was more than double what Steven currently made. “Plus benefits.”

Steven’s eyes widened. With that sort of salary he could afford a bigger flat closer to the museum. “That's -- that's quite generous. I don't know what to say.”

Dr. Y/L/N nodded. “I know this is probably a bit of a shock, so feel free to take some time to think about it. Think you could give me an answer by the beginning of next week?”

What's there to think about? Marc chided him. You're being handed your dream job on a silver platter. Say you'll take it, dumbass.

Steven ignored Marc. “Yes, ma'am.”

Dr. Y/L/N closed Steven's file. “By the way, I put in an order for a new placard for the Mekhit exhibit. Thought you'd like to know.”

Steven grinned. “Yes, ma’am. Thank you.”

“And one other thing…” Dr. Y/L/N paused briefly. “Does your current supervisor often speak to you the way she did this morning?”

Steven was taken aback. “Donna? Well, actually, er… well, she's a bit prickly, yes.”

“I see. And have you reported her behavior to anyone?”

Steven shook his head. “No, ma'am. Don't want to cause a scene or make things worse.”

“Mmm. Well, this 'poncy American' is going to have a private chat with her later on the way we treat our subordinates… and refer to our superiors.”

Marc chuckled. I think I'm in love.

Yeah, me too, Steven replied. Too bad she's my boss.

He really hadn't been flirting with Dr. Y/L/N earlier, although if Steven had been more confident he might have actually considered it. As it was, however, he was glad he hadn't. Most likely would've gotten sacked in that case.

Dr. Y/L/N stood. “Alright, Steven, thank you for coming in. Please let me know as soon as possible what your decision on the Visitor Engagement Specialist position is.”

Steven stood as well. “I will, ma'am. And no matter what I decide, thank you either way for the opportunity.”

“You're welcome. And thank you for such a stimulating conversation this morning. I thoroughly enjoyed it.”

Steven smiled. “I did too.”

He headed back down to the gift shop, where Donna was standing behind the register reading a book.

She looked up as Steven approached the counter. “What, still here? Figured you'd have cleared out your locker by now.”

Steven shook his head. “The new director just wanted to introduce herself and speak with me about something. Guess she's doing that with everyone.”

Donna rolled her eyes. “In that case, when you get done with restocking there's a new shipment of items that need to be unpacked and sorted.”

As if she couldn't have been working on all that shit herself while you were gone, Marc said as Donna headed back towards her office. Would you seriously rather be stuck with that than be the head of tours and programs? You know she's just going to make things more difficult after she gets reprimanded this afternoon.

Steven sighed. Yeah, I know.

Being a tour guide is exactly what you've been wanting to do since the day you started, and being the head of the entire department? Just think… you'd actually be in a higher position than Donna. Wouldn't you like to rub that in her face?

Steven chuckled to himself as he thought about Donna having to answer to him for a change. Yeah, actually, I quite like the thought of that.

Then what are you waiting for? 

You know what? You're right. Steven straightened. I deserve this position.

Damn right you do. Ever since we figured out how to work together you've been able to hold down your job just fine and haven't even been late once. You'll be great.

Steven moved over to the phone and pulled up the staff directory before dialing Dr. Y/L/N's extension.

“Yes, may I help you?” Dr. Y/L/N's voice said briskly over the line.

“Er, uh, Dr. Y/L/N, this is Steven… Steven Grant, from the gift shop?” Steven stammered out, suddenly losing his bravado.

Dr. Y/L/N's tone warmed immediately. “Yes, Steven, what can I do for you?”

Steven took a deep breath. “I've decided I don't need the week to think about your offer. I accept.”

“Wonderful!” Dr. Y/L/N sounded pleased. “I'll have HR start on the transfer paperwork right away so we can have you in your new position by next Monday. There's a couple of new Egyptian artifacts on loan from the Cairo Museum arriving on Thursday afternoon and we're wanting to have them installed by the beginning of next month, so hopefully we can have you settled and able to rework the tour to include them by then.”

Steven nodded even though he knew she couldn't see him. “That shouldn't be a problem. Thank you again for this opportunity, Dr. Y/L/N. I really appreciate it.” 

“You're welcome, Steven. I honestly think you'll thrive in your new position and I'm glad you accepted it.”

“Me too.”

“The museum board is introducing me to some benefactors in ten minutes so I'm afraid I've got to run in a few, but I'm looking forward to hearing your ideas on how to improve the current tours. Maybe we can talk more on Friday? I'll be meeting with the Curatorial department that morning to discuss placement of the new artifacts.” Dr. Y/L/N paused. “You know, actually, now that I think about it since you're going to be involved with that anyway I'd like you to sit in on that meeting as well, even if it's just to observe and check out the new artifacts for yourself.”

“Certainly, ma'am.”

“Ok, great. I'll let Donna know that I've scheduled another meeting with you and that your shift needs to be covered on Friday. What's your current schedule looking like for next week?”

Steven rolled his eyes, grateful that Dr. Y/L/N couldn't actually see him. “Donna has me doing inventory all next week.”

Dr. Y/L/N hummed. “Ok, well then it shouldn't be a problem to find someone else to cover that.”

“No, ma'am.”

“I'll see you Friday morning, then. Goodbye, Steven.”

“Goodbye.”

Steven hung up the phone. “Wow,” he said under his breath. “Wow, wow, wowee wow.”

Marc chuckled in his head. You've hit the big-time now.

“I get my own office. I get my own phone extension.” Steven's eyes widened. “I get my own business cards. ‘Steven Grant, Visitor Engagement Specialist’.”

Has a nice ring to it, doesn't it?

Steven nodded. “I still can't believe it.”

Believe it, buddy. Life is looking up.

Steven grinned. "It is, isn't it?"

He knew one thing for certain -- he couldn't wait to prove to Dr. Y/L/N that she had made the right decision.

[cowgurrrl]

Hello! Would it be possible to get some rockstar!joel and actrees!reader proposal/wedding stuff? Absolutely in loveee with the story!!

Yesssss!! I’m so excited to write this!! Thank you for the request 🫶

I Want To Marry You

Pairing: rockstar!joel x actress!reader

Author’s note: Dedicated to everyone who ever loved me enough to try again. Let’s get coffee sometime.

Summary: Joel asks you The Question [3.3k]

Warnings: mentions of anxiety, family fluff, things coming full circle, oh god I love them

Joel's been acting weird the past few days. You're not in a fight. You're between projects right now, and he's always plunking music in the home studio. Everybody's healthy and happy. You can't pinpoint exactly why he's being jumpy or disappearing into the garage to take phone calls, but you trust him to tell you if something's happening. Still, it throws you off.

When you tell Carolina about it, she reassures you it's probably nothing. "Maybe he's going to surprise you with a romantic getaway or something like that." She suggests, and you laugh as you fiddle with Daisy's collar. She also seemed to sense the shift in the house because she's gotten especially clingy recently. 

"You have kids. You know how hard it is to get away." You say, shaking your head. 

"Yeah, but my kids are seven and three. Not seventeen and twenty-one." 

"Still! Ellie's in school, and even though Sarah has her own apartment now, I don't like going super far in case she needs one of us. That's why we stagger our schedules like we do." 

"Did your mom worry about you this much when you were twenty-one?" She asks. You laugh because she knows the answer. She knew what you were like in your early twenties, and somebody definitely should've been worrying about you.

"My mom didn't even know what borough I lived in at twenty-one." You say. "It's not a bad thing to want to be close. Do you remember when I dropped a plate and cut my foot open on the broken glass and had to take a cab to the hospital?"

"God, don't remind me." She shudders. Carolina had come home to find your tiny apartment in Hell's Kitchen empty and covered in blood. For exactly twenty seconds, she believed you'd be axe-murdered and dragged away by the killer until you called her and told her what happened, resulting in a ten-minute-long conversation about how many people in Manhattan realistically own axes. 

"All I'm saying is I don't want Sarah to be bleeding out in the back of a stranger's car if Joel or I can be there instead."

"You worry too much." She says. "But, then again, all the best moms do."

"Not their mom." You say quickly as if she’d thrown you a ticking bomb and you’re trying to pass it right back to her.

"Yeah, but you're the closest thing they have to one."

"That's true, but I don't want to put that kind of pressure on the girls. They shouldn't have to call me anything they don't want to, and I'm not going to replace their moms."

"Of course not, honey, and nobody would accuse you of doing that, but you'd be lying to yourself if you said you didn't love those girls like they're your own."

"I know." You sigh. "I just worry."

"I know you do." She says. Carolina has been there for all your worrying over the years. Worrying about how you were gonna pay rent, when your next job would come in, and whatever stupid boy you were seeing at the moment. She knows how to calm you down and take your mind off things. "Why don't you get out of the little worry hole you've dug yourself into and come with me and the girls to get our nails done? It'll be fun, and you'll get to hang out with your goddaughters." 

"When?"

"Tomorrow?" She says, and you mentally flip through your calendar. 

"I think I can do tomorrow. Send me a time and place, and I'll be there." You say as the front door opens and closes. You furrow your brows and walk to the top of the stairs to see what's happening. A smiley face greets you with a wave, and you hurriedly hang up on Carolina.

"Sarah! What are you doing here, bug?" You ask as you rush down the stairs to hug her. Joel beams as he watches you embrace her for several long seconds, not pulling away until she does.

"Just missed y'all." She mumbles into your shoulder, and you kiss her temple. She's twenty minutes up the road, but it feels like a lifetime away. 

"Sarah!" Ellie yells and joins in on your hug without hesitation. The three of you dissolve into a fit of giggles, and Joel just stands there, watching the madness unfold. Joel has never been good at hiding his emotions, and you've always been good at reading him like a book. The look he gives you and the girls is full of love and pride and something deeper, something more meaningful. You raise an arm to pull him into the group hug, and he pretends to be annoyed, but he snuggles in with the three of you, kissing each of your foreheads. 

You spend the night making dinner and chocolate chip cookies with the girls and Joel (and Daisy ever so graciously cleaning up the remnants of a food fight Joel started) before curling up on the couch with them and watching a movie. It's just like every other time you've sat and watched whatever movie the girls have been dying to see, but as you rest against Joel's chest, something pricks in your brain. This feels different. He feels different. His hands run a nervous course from your shoulder to your wrist, and his head occasionally dips to kiss at the juncture of your neck. It's like he can't sit still. 

"You okay?" You whisper, glancing at him. He gives you a confused look but nods anyway.

"Why wouldn't I be?" 

"I don't know. I'm probably just anxious for no reason." You shrug. He pulls you close and kisses your temple, keeping you close as the movie continues. At the end of the night, Joel carries both the girls to bed even though he's forty-three and could've let them sleep on the couch. You didn't tell him this, of course, because who are you to pull him back from Dad Mode? So, you cautiously walk in front of him, kicking stray clothes or backpacks out of the way so he doesn't trip. Once Sarah and Ellie are safely tucked into bed, Joel scoops you up by your waist and throws you over his shoulder to carry you into your shared bedroom. 

You laugh the whole way in, and when he plops you down on the bed, you wrap your legs around his waist and keep him close. Your fingers reach up to tug the necklace out from under his shirt collar and play with the pendant as he stares at you.

"What're you thinking about?" You ask.

"Thinking bout us." He says, and you raise your eyebrows at him.

"Oh, do tell."

"We've been together a long time." 

"Sick of me already?" You ask, making him laugh, but he shakes his head and kisses you, traces of chocolate and cinnamon lingering on his lips. 

"Never." He says. "I was just thinkin' bout it." Technically, it's true. You guys have been together for a while. This year, it'll almost be four years since you walked into that office in Beverly Hills and met him. You remember thinking you would finish out the contract and never see him again. Little did you know Joel Miller would become the man making you dinner most nights and carrying you off to bed. Or that he'd throw you the best thirtieth birthday party in the history of birthday parties. Or that you'd move in with him and his daughters. Or that you'd love him more than you've ever loved anyone. 

"It's weird to think I went so long without knowing you." You mumble, your hold on him tightening like you're scared he'll fade away if you don't cling to him. He rests his forehead against yours, sensing your anxiety spiking, and you're overwhelmed by him. Your legs are still locked around his waist, and your chests are touching, the points of contact sending little butterflies fluttering through your veins. You can't see, taste, feel, or smell anything that isn't Joel.

"'M not goin' anywhere." He says, and you nod. "Ever."

"I'm gonna hold you to that, Miller." You joke, trying to ease your brain out of your spiraling and lighten the air between you two. He laughs, and the room brightens as he does. 

"Do your worst, darlin'." 

When you wake up the next morning, Joel isn't there. You reach for him and find a piece of paper on his cold pillow. How long has he been gone? How the fuck did you sleep through him rolling out of your arms? You squint in the early morning sun as you read the note.

You sigh and grumble into your pillow. What kind of psychopath runs errands at nine in the morning? The kind of psychopath you love, that's who. You lay in the too-big bed for a few more minutes before finally getting up and checking your phone. Carolina has texted you with the address of a nail salon and told you to meet her at eleven, but other than that, your phone is radio silent. Not that you're complaining, but normally you're bombarded with notifications from when you wake up to when you go to bed. It's nice, if not a little unnerving, to not have five million people to respond to the first thing in the morning.

When you walk downstairs, you expect to see Sarah and Ellie sitting at the table and eating, but no one's there. You call for the girls, but the only person who responds is Daisy, who dances in front of you. You crouch down to pet her and give her good morning kisses. "Just us today, huh?" You ask, a little sad, but nobody is more excited about one-on-one time quite like Daisy Mae. You give Daisy breakfast before letting her run around the backyard and making yourself something to eat.

You scroll aimlessly through your phone until it's time to leave and meet Carolina and the girls at the nail salon. Elizabeth and Victoria launch themselves at you the second they catch sight of you, and you spend the better half of your appointment with a child on your lap and listening to the latest drama from Elizabeth's first-grade classroom. You have the girls help pick out what color to paint your nails, and they each land on a pretty ballet slipper pink. "Good taste, guys," you praise as you show the nail technician what color you want. "Just like your mama, huh?"

"I mean, I wasn't gonna say it," Carolina says, and you laugh. Caro, like usual, is right about needing to take some time for yourself to stop worrying. You can actually relax in the big, plush chairs and talk to the girls like nothing could be more important than what they had for breakfast. Carolina hugs you tighter than normal at the end of your appointment and says she'll see you later before ushering the girls into their car seats. You barely have time to react before she's driving away like nothing happened. 

Did you make plans with her and forget about them? It's happened before, so you wouldn't be overly surprised if it happened again. But if that's the case, why didn't she say anything? You shake your head as if it'll shake out all your racing thoughts and get in your car to drive home. When you pull into the driveway, everyone's cars are back where they belong, and you selfishly get really excited about seeing them. Except, the exact second you step through the door, Joel is putting Daisy's harness on her and has his running shoes on.

"Where are you going?" You ask, your mood dropping at seeing him ready to leave again. He looks up and smiles despite the pout on your lips.

"There you are! We were waiting on you so we could take Daisy for a walk." He says, breathless as he wrestles with your pitbull. You look past Joel and see Sarah and Ellie standing there with shoes and sunglasses on. 

"We really need four people for a dog walk?" 

"I wanted to show the girls the new route along the beach we found." He says. "Is that okay?" You nod.

"We just might look crazy, but, of course! Let me change my shoes!" You call as you take the stairs two at a time to get up to your bedroom. You decide to wear the pink tennis shoes to match your cute pink nails before ambling back downstairs and walking out the door. When you first rescued Daisy, she didn't let anyone but you hold her leash. However, after years spent with Joel and the girls, she can be walked by just about anyone as long as you're there. She's as much of your comfort dog as you are her comfort person.

Taking your hand in his, Joel walks Daisy with the other and swings your hands through the air as Sarah and Ellie walk behind you. It's a little silly, but you'll take all the affection after waking up without anyone else in the house. Slowly, the five of you make your way toward the sound of the crashing waves and the smell of salt in the air. The cliffs hang ominously above the empty beach and boardwalks, but you love it. You once told Joel when you walk out this far, it feels like you're the only person around. Something about being near the water makes you feel even better. A pop of color near the sidewalk catches your attention, and you break off from your little ragtag group to see what it is.

"Joel, come look at this." You say, leaning over the rope to look down at the wildflowers dancing on the cliffside. It's gorgeous, and the wind perfectly balances the blistering hot day, but he doesn't immediately appear at your side like he normally would. You furrow your brows and turn to see him down on one knee with a ring in his hand. Your breath catches in your throat, and you immediately cover your mouth with your hand. Joel smiles with watery eyes as he reaches for the other and pulls you close to him. 

"Did you know about this?" You look past Joel to see Ellie and Sarah standing there, Daisy's leash wrapped around Ellie's wrist as Sarah records on her phone, and they laugh. Their smiles and teary eyes are all the confirmation you need, and you look back down at Joel. "Is this why you've been acting so weird?" You ask, and he laughs.

"Yeah, this is why I've been actin' so weird," he says. His Adam's apple bobs as he says your name and your legs shake under you. "I love you, and I fall more in love with you every single day. There's not a single moment I've spent with you where I've not wondered what the fuck you see in me." He's crying now, but you can't stop the laughter from bubbling out from your chest. He squeezes your hand and takes a deep breath before continuing. "And you don't just love me, but you love my girls. You make them feel safe and cared for. You've given them somethin' I've been tryin' and failin' to give them for years, and I will spend the rest of my days tryna repay you for that."  

"Will you marry me?" He finally asks, and you sniffle. Tears stain everyone's face, and even Daisy is crying next to Ellie, and you'd laugh if you could see past the tears in your eyes. You nod and drop to your knees with Joel.

"Yes." You say as you grab his face and kiss him. "Yes. Yes. Yes. Of course, I'll marry you." You repeat over and over again as his arms lock around your waist. Sarah and Ellie cheer, suddenly no longer annoyed at your PDA, and you smile against Joel's lips. He adjusts his hold on you to give you a good look at the ring for the first time, and all your breath leaves you in a huff. It's gorgeous. A simple oval-shaped diamond on a gold band with an engraving on the inside. 

"What does this say?" You ask, and he smiles as he holds it so you can read it. You immediately start crying when you read and realize what it means. He wrote inside your engagement ring, "And one day, we'll get coffee & try again." You said it to him before you left for Ireland when your heart was broken, and you didn't know the future could ever be this soft. He slips it onto your left ring finger and gathers you in his arms, both of you still on the ground and crying like crazy people. You don't care. You hold him so tight you almost miss him whispering into your skin.

"Thank you for trying again with me." He says. Ellie, Sarah, and Daisy join in on your crying in the middle of the sidewalk huddle, and you're completely surrounded by love. After a few minutes, you calm down enough to stand and kiss Joel again, making people cheer from the beach below. When you look over the rope, down to where the wildflowers are, you can see a group of your favorite people on the beach. They must've been hidden until Joel could propose, and now they're all making their joy well known with hoots and hollers. 

Joel holds your hand as the girls lead the way down to the beach, where there's a makeshift bar and picnic set up with a giant banner reading "CONGRATULATIONS" with a little ring in the middle. "This is what the errands were this morning," Joel tells you quietly, and you smile. 

"You're pretty good at keeping secrets, Miller."

"Not really. Everyone here knew I was proposing before you did," he says, and you laugh. "Besides, I'd watch it with the Miller thing considering you're becomin' one." 

"I guess that's true." You sigh happily as Ryan ambushes you, picking you up in his arms and spinning you around. You squeal until he puts you back down and immediately demands to see your ring. Carolina comes up behind him as you show him, her eyes popping out of her head at the sight.

"Damn, Joel!" She exclaims, and Joel laughs. 

"Only the best for my bride." He says. My bride. It rings in your head like a bell, echoing through your mind like gospel. You look around at the faces of everyone you've ever loved. Your manager, Sierra, and her partner, Bianca, are talking with Lili and Peter. Sarah and Ellie are running up and down the beach with Daisy, Elizabeth, and Victoria, struggling to keep up. Hank and Lucia patiently wait their turn at the bar next to Tommy and Maria. Your beauty team, Alexa and Jenna, laugh together as they talk to a handful of other costars they've also worked with. The beach is crawling with family, both of origin and found, and you wouldn't want it any other way. 

As you make your rounds with Joel on your arm, showing off your ring and trying not to cry as people tell you how happy they are for you, you wish you could show your past self this moment. The girl who packed up all her shit and moved across the world after breaking up with the love of her life. The girl who spent countless nights crying herself to sleep and going to therapy and trying to create a better life for herself. The girl who almost backed out of a coffee date three years ago because she was so scared the man on the other side of the table wouldn't like what he found. You wish she could see this and know she did the right thing. You wish she knew things ended up okay. You wish she knew she got to try again, and it changed her entire life. Wherever she is, you hope she knows she did good.

"What're you thinkin' bout?" Joel whispers in your ear as he hands you a glass of champagne. You smile and shake your head.

"Just… someone I used to know."

[dwobbitfromtheshire]

Give it to Me

Summary: In which Jonathan doesn't feel right taking the camera. Giving it back stirs something in Jonathan.

A/N: It could be a a one shot but if you guys wanted to leapfrog what you might think happens next in the reblogs, I wouldn't mind. Leapfrog: in which a person writes a little something off someone's story in a reblog for someone else to write a little something. I don't know if leapfrogging is a thing, but I would love it if it was. Would it be leapfrogging or leapreblogging?

Jonathan stared at the camera in Will's hand. He should feel happy that he was given a new one after Steve broke his other one. Steve had gone too far, hadn't he? He hadn't actually cared about Nancy or how she felt. All he wanted to do was to make Jonathan look and feel bad. He wanted to show everyone who was in charge. Jonathan shook his head. Maybe that's what he wanted to tell himself to make him feel better about what he did. It had been clear as day that Steve had been concerned about how Nancy would react, and he had gotten angry for her because she had been in shock. . .too stunned for words. It should have been Nancy to break his camera, and Nancy should have slapped him. No, Jonathan didn't deserve this camera. Not only did he betray Nancy in such an utterly fowl way, but he also betrayed his skills as a photographer.

"Jonathan?" Will asked.

"I need to go back in," Jonathan said and took the camera from Will. "Take this back. Come on."

"I can stay in the car for a few minutes, Jonathan," Will sighed.

"Will, please," Jonathan said softly.

"Fine," Will rolled his eyes.

He got out of the car with Jonathan and followed him back into the house. Jonathan could see Ted and Karen in the kitchen with Holly. Ted was holding her, and Karen was trying to get something out of her mouth. Holly was cackling. Apparently, she had eaten something she wasn't supposed to again. Will watched from the hallway, amused by the scene. While his brother was distracted, Jonathan slipped into the living room. Nancy was cuddled up next to Steve. Jonathan pushed away the jealous pang in his chest and stood in front of them.

"Oh, hey, Jonathan, did you forget something?" Nancy asked.

"Here," Jonathan said and handed her the camera.

"That's a gift," Nancy said in surprise.

"It's something I don't deserve," Jonathan said. "What I did. . .it was messed up, and I crossed a huge line. What's even worse is that I made up so many excuses and placed the blame on other people. . .but the truth is that I had plenty of time to stop and not do what I did. All I could see was you guys having fun when my brother was lost. . .It made me a little angry at first. . .then I realized that I was just jealous. . . I never had any friends or did anything like that. I suppose it was my fault because I pushed people away, and I used my camera to do it. I shouldn't have done it, and I want to earn it back. All of it," Jonathan said. "I'm apologizing to both of you, because you both deserve it."

Jonathan caught their eyes. Both of their looked at him softly and full of meaning. Nancy's eyes were a wide, beautiful blue that threw him off so much sometimes that he had to look anywhere else. He never noticed how beautiful Steve’s were until now. He always assumed that they were just brown but no. . .they were actually mostly a dark forest green with brown surrounding the iris. It reminded Jonathan strongly of the woods. Steve was looking at a curious realization as if he had just had a thought, and he wasn't sure why he did. Jonathan realized then that he wasn't that much different than Steve, and he wondered if Steve was thinking the same thing he was.

They both had fucked up. Steve, with his actions, or lack thereof, and words at the Hawk. He knew then why Steve had said those things. He had acted out of jealousy, out of hurt. . . Much like Jonathan did in the woods with Nancy. . . Jonathan had fucked up by taking those pictures, and he waited outside of Steve’s house for Nancy to come to her senses but there had been a part of him that wanted to follow her up the stairs. . . To watch or maybe, they'd let him be a part of whatever it was they were doing. When Nancy had told him that it wasn't okay what he had done, he wanted to continue to not take accountability for the photos because then it would mean something else. Instead, he yelled at Nancy and accused her of being like all the other girls Steve had dated. He had spent so long behind the camera that he had forgotten that people weren't just photographs. There's more to them than he had ever thought.

"I forgive you, Jonathan," Nancy said and pushed the camera back towards him. "You more than made up for it."

"I just - I haven't forgiven myself yet," Jonathan said and placed it on her lap.

Steve stood up, smiling at him. He held out his hand at Jonathan. He wanted to shake his hand. Jonathan stared at his hand longer than he should have. Steve cleared his throat, and Jonathan tentatively took his hand.

"Thank you, you saved my life. . .in more ways than one. I don't think I ever would have realized that there were more important things if it hadn't been for you and Nancy," Steve said. "And I forgive you, too."

"You give us too much credit," Jonathan blushed. "You made the choice to walk away from those assholes."

"It's not a big deal," Steve shrugged.

"Okay, now you're just fishing for a compliment," Jonathan said and Nancy laughed.

"Well," Steve said. "You know, you're welcome to hang out with us any time. . .could definitely use a friend like you."

Jonathan realized they were still shaking hands. . .well, they were holding hands. Steve had started rubbing circles into his skin with his thumb, and he made his eyes bigger, pleading with Jonathan.

"Why? So, I can sit around and watch you two makeout?" Jonathan asked.

"Well, if you're into that," Steve smirked. "You might want to ask Nancy if she'd be up for that."

"I am," Nancy smiled.

"Are you sure you don't want to take the camera?" Steve asked.

"Give it to me when I'm ready," Jonathan said.

"Give it to you when you're ready?" Steve asked, laughing.

"Yeah, what did I say that was so funny?" He asked as Nancy giggled. "Yes, give it to me when I'm ready."

"You're not hearing it, are you?" Steve laughed again.

"What's so funny about you giving it to me?" Jonathan asked.

Nancy bent over, laughing. Steve’s eyes twinkled with mirth as he gazed affectionately at him. He released Jonathan's hand and gave him a kiss on the cheek, much to Jonathan's surprise.

"Well, it looked fun when Nancy did it," Steve said. "And it was."

"I still don't get it," Jonathan muttered.

Suddenly, they heard a loud sound from the kitchen, Holly cackling, and Will bursting into laughter.

"HOLLY! THIS FIGURINE IS NOT SOMETHING YOU EAT!" Mike screamed. "DO YOU KNOW HOW LONG IT TOOK ME TO PAINT THIS?!"

"You should be more worried that your sister almost choked on it!" Ted yelled.

"Michael!" Karen scolded.

"If she wasn't so cute, I'd - !" Mike start to yell.

"Do nothing!" They heard Holly taunt.

"I think that's my que to leave," Jonathan said. "Will!"

Will came back into the living room, laughing.

"Mike had freaked out because he couldn't find his d&d figurine, and it turns out Holly was hiding it in her mouth," Will said.

"Wasn't gonna eat it, Mommy!" They heard Holly yell. "Just hide it!"

"Why?!" Mike asked.

"You are a meaniehead!" Holly said.

"Yeah, time to go," Jonathan said. "Good luck with that."

"Thanks," Nancy said laughing.

"Bye Steve, bye Nancy!" Will exclaimed.

Jonathan walked out of the living room towards the front door. Smiling, he could still feel Steve’s lips against his skin, as though it had left an imprint there. . .burning its way deep inside of him. He touched his cheek as though he was trying to touch Steve’s lips with his fingertips. Yeah, he and Steve weren't so different. They both strived to do better, not just for Nancy, but for each other as well. They both knew what it was like to be alone and to feel lonely all at the same time. In some ways, Steve kept people at arms length in the same way that Jonathan had done, except instead of a camera, it had been Tommy and Carol. Fuck. Goddamnit. Not only was he hopelessly in love with Nancy, but now it seemed like falling for Steve Harrington, too. Shit, maybe that had always been the case. . .maybe that's why he had been so deadset on admiting that Nancy actually wanted to sleep with Steve because he didn't want to be honest with himself about wanting to sleep with him too.

"Jonathan?" Will asked.

"Oh my god!" Jonathan exclaimed. "I just got it! Steve! Seriously?!"

He heard Steve and Nancy laughing loudly as he finally left the Wheelers. Assholes. He laughed all the way to his car.

[pupyuj]

ive read your yves story and it was amazing oh my god.. i wanted to ask if you could write something similar with chaeyoung? (no gp) <3

assuming this is twice chaeyoung, i think i nailed itjdjfjfnfk thanks for the ask, my brain short-circuited writing this 😭😭😭 btw i didnt know if anon wanted dom chaeyoung or sub so i kinda did what i thought was fitting??? hope thats ok!!!

[cw: smut, stepcest, brat taming, degradation, dom!reader (surprise..), fingering, overstimulation, slapping, spanking, masochism too ig]

i imagine chaeyoung would be like this annoying little sister that's somehow still very endearing that you dote on her and become snobby at her at the same time 😭😭 she's definitely a tease too and is not at all subtle with her interest in you, which becomes a problem when family members are around bcs jesus christ, she's relentless with her affection that is definitely not appropriate for someone that you call your sibling 🫣

at first, it was all just little touches and jokes about dating you if the two of you weren't family,, but then it turns into chaeyoung staring at you like she wants to pounce on you, wearing revealing clothing to rile you up, whispering things to you during family dinners, sitting on your lap not-so-innocently, and then touching you everywhere ... but unfortunately for her, you had better control of your temptations than she thought 😩 .. until you didn't??? 👀

what if you're not the nice and adorable (y/n)-unnie anymore when chaeyoung got soooo jealous of you spending too much with this one pretty friend that you had :(( chaeyoung visiting your room one night with a mission in mind while you're walking back and forth doing some chores, getting increasingly annoyed at her ranting and then she just,, disrespects your friend and you snap??? you tell her to take what she said back, but being the brat that she was, chaeyoung says no and y'know.. the classic brat thing to say, "make me."

being the big sister, you should be teaching her a lesson right??? she shouldn't be talking about your friend in front of you like that,, so you had to do something, right?? maybe sit her down and talk to her normally.. but chaeyoung keeps on talking badly about your friend and any ounce of consideration you had for her just fades away and you just,,, hit her across the face w your palm,, you wanted to apologize as soon as it happened but this fucking girl.. she looked at you in the eye and said, "...can you do that again, unnie?"

and you did, in fact, do it again! but this time chaeyoung's shorts were off and she was bent over your bed, whimpering and moaning every time your hand hits her ass. "apologize. you shouldn't talk about your unnie's friends like that." you said in her ear as you pulled her hair back, preventing her from burying her head on your sheets to muffle her sounds. chaeyoung, the little brat, grins despite the pain in her scalp and she shakes her head, "no. i don't like unnie's friends— aghh...!" she's squirming every time you hit her, desperately trying to ease the growing wetness between her thighs. she wanted you to fuck her already,,

😵‍💫 spanking chaeyoung for what seems like forever bcs she absolutely refused to apologize,, her ass so red and her cheeks stained with tears,,, she's sobbing but she wants more, this was everything she wanted from you and there was no fucking way she was going to let the opportunity pass just like that. you were silent for minutes too long, and chaeyoung thinks you might have left the room,, but then she feels her panties getting pulled down and suddenly, she was full.

you forced your middle and ring fingers inside of her without warning and immediately started pounding her at a rapid pace,,, 😩 chaeyoung not being able to hold anything back anymore and just moans loudly,,, tears starting to fall again bcs it felt so good to be fucked and put in her place by her very own older stepsister 😵‍💫😵‍💫

listening to chaeyoung letting out the dirtiest sounds, and her begging for you to go faster and harder and to make her come,,, so blinded by irritation that you start become a meanie :((

"you must be so fucking happy about this, huh?? getting railed by your unnie, just like you always wanted... you're just a good-for-nothing slut..."

"is this the only way to get you to behave? so be it, then..."

"the fuck are you crying for? this is what you were trying to achieve all this time, right? so fucking enjoy it.. because we'll be doing this until you decide to stop being a pain in the ass and apologize."

you were scaryyy,, but chaeyoung loved it.. your words only turned her on even more :(( her coming with a yelp, and then sobbing bcs you wouldn't stop,,, continuing on fingering her even when she turned into a shaking, babbling mess on your bed,, chaeyoung couldn't count how many orgasms you forced out of her that night, and that fact only made her fall in love with you even more,, nasty nasty girl 🤭

would definitely try to piss you off again <3 and again and again and agai—

[kvalenagle]

Okay, I've been summoned to Tumblr by cute Satra and Lei fan art, so I should probably introduce myself and my books. Hello! I'm Vale, and I write creature fantasy as K. Vale Nagle. If you like interesting gryphons, you're in the right place: aquatic diving petrel/fishing cat gryphons, poisonous hooded pitohui/tiger gryphons, pretty gyrfalcon/snow leopard gryphons, intimidating Haast's eagle/saber-toothed tiger gryphons, soggy sandgrouse/sand cat gryphons, and a lot more. My series are epic fantasy using mostly real (though sometimes extinct) animals, free of humans but full of queer characters, intrigue, large battles, and ecological apocalypses. My cover art is by Jeff Brown, with interior graphite pieces by Brenda Lyons and gryphon chapter headers by Kittrel (whose chibi hearts you may have seen). I also have a short story collection (best read anytime after Starling, book three) with a beak-cute lesbian gryphon love story with terror birds, a Gryphon vs. Nature blizzard apocalypse tale, a Christmas-y story, and something pretty close to zombies. I've also written a full novel set in the world of Dire by John Bailey called Coldbright which can be found in the Tales of Feathers & Flames anthology. If you like GryphIns but you want something with more mystery, almost horror, as told through the eyes of a snarky little opinicus and his dire gryphon ex-boyfriend, it's a great read this time of year. I love and appreciate all the fan mail, fan fiction, fan letters, and people reaching out about this series. I'm a little slow replying, as I started writing the series right after getting diagnosed with a catastrophic autoimmune system. The treatments are pretty intense, and it's easiest for me to spend my time and energy writing. I used to have a few pen names across several genres, but for the most part, all of my energy goes into finishing up GryphIns. I'm married to dragon author Glenn Birmingham, so if you've seen us posting pictures of our cats and thought it's strange they share a name, they're the same cats. And that's about it. Just a queer author writing gryphony books when I'm not walking my cat. A few common answers to questions: Q: There are sometimes typos in social media, why is that? A: Catastrophic APS means I've had a stroke (and associated memory loss), so when a copy editor isn't coming up behind me, there'll be doubled words and typos from time-to-time. I used to worry about them, since they don't look good if you're an author! But I'd rather reply to fan letters and kind posts. I think if you've read my author notes at the back of my books, you know to expect a few doubled words here and there. Q: When you say a queer author, what do you mean? A: Since people ask about own voices and I have a lot of lgbtqia+ characters in my books, I'm pan, demi, trans, and genderfluid. I'm lucky enough to have a lot of queer friends and first readers who make sure I don't mess up any characters. Q: When's the next GryphIns novel coming out? A: Some years, I spend a lot of my time fighting health insurance battles, and it slows me down. Pridelord (#8) is currently in line edits. It's twice as long as Eyrie and three times as long as Coldbright, so it's a pretty big book! It shouldn't be too much longer. You'll know it's just about time because you'll hear James Scott Spaid talk about narrating the audiobook. Q: How many books will there be in GryphIns? A: I'm famous for underestimating how many books it takes to finish a series. My other pen names all wrote short stories and standalone novels, so my proposal for GryphIns originally had five books. Jeff Brown is wrapping up the cover for Saberbeak (#9) and Nighthaunt (#10). If I end up needing one more book to finish, though, don't be too surprised.

[sneakersnacks]

Come Back Safe to Me

Authors Note: Hello everyone! First post on here. There isn't any use on Y/N or anything like that. I'm not sure where this story will eventually go, I am kind of writing this because I also have scenarios pop up into my head and I always feel better writing them down.

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

tw: GSW's, Guns, Military scenarios

“Sir I know for a fact she shouldn't lead this mission on her own.” Ghost said with a stern voice, almost slamming his hands on Price's desk.

“Ghost, she's more than capable of doing this, why are you set on her not leaving base without you?” Price retorted back, lifting up his eyebrow with the end of the sentence. 

They didn't know this, but you were on the other side of the door, listening to their conversation. Did Ghost not trust you? Did he not believe in your skills as a soldier? Just last week you were the only to actually hit high marks in training, that should be enough proof. You have been on countless missions with him, all of them successful. He was always by my side but the one time he isn't he doesn't believe in my capabilities? Pushing those thoughts to the side you lightly tap on the door. 

“Come in.” Price says

You enter and meet Ghost's gaze before you look at Captain Price, “Sorry to intrude Cap, I just wanted to check in before I set off with the team.” you say, trying not to notice the stare Ghost is giving you, if looks could kill, you would be dead by now.

“Ah yes, Crow, everything is all set in order, I wish you luck on your mission. Come back safe.” he says.

“Of course Sir.” You give a light nod and exit the tiny office. You close the door behind you and start walking down the hallway. You hear Price's door open and slam shut with heavy footsteps coming after you.  You know its Ghost, just the looming presence in the hallway gives you chills up your spine. 

“Crow.” he says from behind you.

You stop and turn on your heel, looking up at him with a stone look, “What.” is all you say, you can tell that this response catches him by surprise. “Are you here to tell me that I am not fit to lead this mission?” 

You see his eyes narrow and a glint of guilt flashes in his eyes, “Crow…” his voice is soft when he says your callsign.

“If you didn't believe in my skills as a leader or even just a soldier in general you should've told me from the beginning, don't give me false hope and make me doubt my own skills.” You say, your index finger jabbing at his chest. He just looks down at you, he didn't mean to make you angry, you weren't supposed to hear him say those things. He wanted you to be safe, how was he supposed to make sure you were safe if he wasn't there with you? He needed to protect you, he knew you could easily protect yourself but he just needed to be there with you. He couldn't lose you. He let you continue to be angry and rant at him but couldn't take it anymore and grabbed your hand before you could poke him in the chest for the second time. 

“Crow, please, believe me when I say you are capable of doing anything.” he squeezes your hand in his, his rough tactical glove almost scratching your skin, it didn’t bother you though. “I… just can't lose you.” he says, his voice soft. 

It's now your turn to be caught off guard, you look up directly into his eyes and he looks down at you like he was looking into your soul, “Ghost I-” you start to say before you hear a pair of footsteps come around the corner, Ghost quickly drops your hand and you get sad as you feel the warmth leave you.

“Lieutenant Crow.” Someone says from down the hallway, you turn around even though every cell in your body just wants to stay close to Ghost.

“Yes Alea?” 

“Pol and Gate are ready and heli will be good to go in about five minutes.” she states, you can see hee glance at Ghost but then give you her full attention. 

“Of course, thank you Alea, I will be right behind you.” You say, giving her a nod, she returns it and walks away from Ghost and yourself. You turn to face Ghost again, “I will be fine, I promise.” 

“Don't make promises you can't keep” his voice was low and not above a whisper. You reach up and touch his cheek, the fabric from his mask blocks you from touching his skin but even so the warmth he gives off radiates through the mask. He leans into your hand, closing his eyes. 

“Ghost, I don't make the promise if I can't keep the promise. It's a simple mission, in and out. You know how these things are.” You say, he slowly opens his eyes to meet yours and grabs your hand pressed on his face. 

“Aye, but I won't be there with you. I trust you, I just have never been worried about someone like this before, this is new to me.” He confesses and your heart flutters. “Come back safe to me.” is all he says and releases your hand, he turns around and walks down the hallway away from you. 

You are left there standing in the hallway, your mind racing and trying to process everything that just happened. You always had secret feelings for Ghost, that was apparent but you always told yourself to keep things very professional with him. He was part of the task force with you and emotions didn't need to get involved. Ghost always had his usual cold stone demeanor, you assumed there was nothing there on his end. He gave you the same amount of affection as he did with Soap, nothing but playful banter here and there but nothing came before missions. Even on our off time he would hang in the background when the task force would hang out. 

You start walking from the building and onto the heli, you see Pol, Alea, and Gate all strapped in ready to go. You grab your pack from the side and put it by your feet and buckle in. 

“Is everyone ready?” You say to your team. They all nod and give a sturdy ‘Yes Ma’am’. The door shuts and you feel the heli lift off the ground. “The mission should be rather simple,” you say trying to be loud enough so they can hear you, “We collect intel, possibly get a few things then we leave. In and out.” 

“In and out,” Pol says with a smile on his face. You give a smile back and try not to think about being above the ground, no matter how many times your were in planes or helicopters you hated the feeling of not being on solid ground.

The moon hung low in the night sky, casting an eerie silver glow over the desolate terrain as the small team of operatives moved stealthily towards their objective. The base was a mere twelve clicks away from their drop-off point, nestled deep within enemy territory. The mission was simple: gather critical intel without alerting the hostiles to their presence. You led the way, your sharp eyes scanning the darkness for any sign of danger. Beside you, Sergeant Alea maintained radio silence, her fingers deftly adjusting the settings on her portable communications device.

Private Pol and Gate, both seasoned soldiers, followed closely behind, their movements synchronized with military precision. The crunch of gravel beneath their boots seemed to echo louder in the silence, each step a reminder of the perilous nature of their mission.

The team reached a vantage point overlooking the enemy base, the cold wind ruffling their uniforms as they huddled together, peering through their night-vision goggles. In the distance, the enemy base sprawled like a hive of activity, unaware of the impending threat.

Your voice was barely a whisper as you addressed the team. "Stay sharp, everyone. We need those visuals on the base, but we can't afford to be seen."

Sergeant Alea nodded in acknowledgement, her fingers dancing over the communication device once more, relaying critical information back to their command center. The intel they gathered could change the course of the entire operation.

Minutes turned into hours as they continued their surveillance, your eyes never wavering from the base. The tension in the air was palpable, and even the wind seemed to hold its breath. Pol and Gate pushed a bit forward, while you and Alea stayed a bit behind. Your point of vision being able to see almost everything. Alea scribbles down times and notes when trucks would pull in and out of the compound.

"Lieutenant." Pol said over the comms, "We see a group of five coming out of the base, seems to be a patrol group, they are coming a little bit too close for comfort." he states.

Your heart raced as you scanned the approaching patrol through your night-vision goggles. They were closing in fast, and it was clear that their cover was about to be compromised. Without hesitation, you barked out orders. "Pol, Gate, fall back and find cover. Alea, keep relaying that information. I'll distract them and draw their attention away."

Pol and Gate retreated silently, fading into the darkness as Alea continued her vital work.

You stepped out from your hiding spot, your heart pounding in your chest. The patrol drew nearer, their flashlights cutting through the night. With practiced ease, you aimed your silenced pistol and took a deep breath, ready to create a diversion.

But just as you were about to squeeze the trigger, a sudden burst of gunfire erupted from the shadows. Bullets whizzed past you, and you felt a searing pain in your side. You stumbled backward, instinctively returning fire as best you could.

The patrol was caught off guard, their attention diverted from your team members. In the chaos, you managed to take down one of the enemy soldiers, but the pain in your side was overwhelming.

As the firefight raged on, you felt yourself growing weaker. It was then that you saw Pol, his eyes wide with fear and determination, rushing towards you. With all the strength you could muster, you tried to shout a warning, but it was too late.

A bullet meant for you found its mark, and you crumpled to the ground. Through the haze of pain and darkness, you could see Pol, his face contorted with grief, kneeling by your side. He grabs the back of your collar and drags you away from the flying bullets.

"Lieutenant I am so sorry, where did you get hit?" He is panicking right now. You take a deep breath and pull up your shirt that was tucked in. A bullet wound on your right side and another one through your shoulder. Pol saw both bullet wounds and his face paled. That was never a good sign. You here footsteps rushing towards us and Gate appears Pol.

"We have to go now!" He shouts, the both of them pull you up your arms slung over their shoulders. Alea was only a few feet away and you could see her on comms asking for evac.

"Lieutenant Crow has been shot! Get us out of here now, we are making our way to evac point!" She shouts into the mouth piece. "Crow you better fucking stay with us." She tells you as the three of you meet her.

Your eyes felt heavy and your body was numb from the adrenaline. Your feet barely kept you up and it seemed as if Pol and Gate were just dragging you at this point. Certain thoughts flashed through your head but one of them just kept coming up, "Come back safe to me". Fuck, why did this have to happen. You thought of Ghosts calm and collected eyes just turning into panic as he got the news that you were hurt. Probably dead. You were losing a lot of blood, you could feel it soak into your shirt.

Your squad made it back to the evac point, barley, but you made it. Pol lifted you into the heli and set you down on the floor of it. Alea got right to work and started to examine your wounds. Two GSW's both a clean enter and exit. You grabbed Alea's arm and for a second she stopped what she was doing to look at you, "If I dont make it-" you start out but she cuts you off, "Crow you are going to make it, knock that bullshit off" she snaps at you. continuing to bandage you up as best as she could.

"You gotta tell Pol this isn't his fault," you start "but also, you have to let Ghost know I'm sorry." She doesn't look at you at first but you yank her arm so she meets your eyes. She sees the seriousness in them and nods her head.

Your eyes are getting heavier and heavier by the minute. You take a shaky breath in and exhale as calmly as you can. The last thing you remember is Ghosts words in your head, "Come back safe to me."

*Authors Note: There will most likely be a part two lol ill just have to see where I want take this, if you read this I really hope you enjoyed it :)*

[thattimdrakeguy]

HOW NCUTI GATWA STOLE (THE SHOW AT) CHRISTMAS.

Gonna be honest, do not care how brash it sounds, Ncuti Gatwa is already my second favorite Doctor. A perfect mesh of fantastic performance and good writing.

Both him and RTD just deliver what's their in my head as the 'Doctor-y bits', the things that make any incarnation of the Doctor feel like the Doctor. The stuff that if lacking can make me not care for an incarnation, or really like an incarnation.

They nail that base of the character while adding new things to make the new incarnation unique and it's wonderful.

The Doctor is an enigmatic, scientist, time traveling, adventurer, investigator, that's so eccentric. And while some criticize RTD for making the Doctor's a bit too human, I personally think he's always been very good at writing Doctor's that feel like aliens who've been around humans for hundreds of years...which is who the Doctor is.

And it makes the Doctor so wonderful.

Never liked when people say some Doctor's don't feel alien...simply because they aren't standard socially awkward. 'Cause that always felt a bit unintentionally mean spirited. There's lots of human's that are bad at social cues and stuff. A lot of them are just plum Autistic. It doesn't make them alien.

RTD makes his Doctor's feel alien by the obvious experience the Doctor has that's above any possible human. Knowledges and sciences above what we human's even know. With enough eccentricities with the way they socialize that show they're so used to being around actual aliens that they're pleasantly surprised when something unusual shows up, and they're right at home alongside it.

Now all that stuff I described is almost constantly there...'cause it is the Doctor'y Bits, but it feels more pushed to the forefront with RTD. While other writers either don't make those the elements that stand out, or they write them in a way that feels...it's hard to describe...But sometimes that stuff is written in a way that feels parody. When I feel like the humor is natural 'cause, 'Who the hell can say they done all this'. It could be a directing or performance thing over writing. It's hard to pinpoint. While focusing too much on making the character quirky to the point they feel a bit too over-the-top to mesh, or possibly maybe even inconsistent with other parts of the characterization that's been established.

It's a magnificent balance in the latest special is what I'm saying.

And thanks to the beauty of the writing, Ncuti gets to play a three dimensional Doctor right off the back. His serious side, his silly side, his teasing side, his self-doubting size, his scientific side, his adventure loving side. It's all there, and he betrays it so convincingly. It somehow feels like he's already done a full season when this is his first episode as the main Doctor.

And the episode was a total breath of fresh air.

The first three specials were amazing, and already among my top favorite episodes of Doctor Who. But by nature they were an epilogue to a story already started. Which is what made them fantastic.

But on the differing side of the coin is this special, where it's to begin a new on, in a new era, in an episode that's a truly great starting point for new viewers that may not understand the sort of show Doctor Who is.

I've seen some people say it doesn't work as that 'cause it's goofy.

No it's perfect 'cause of that. You shouldn't watch Doctor Who not expecting camp sensibilities. Even at it's most serious, the show still has elements of camp, it's just rather or not it's intentional lmao

Also Millie Gibson is insanely convincing right away. I never seen her in anything, while keeping some faith, since so far RTD has been sort of my man when it comes to Doctor Who, I consistency enjoy his choices. But like, wow, she was genuinely the stand-out to me, above even Ncuti in some ways, because obviously the Companion isn't going to be as naturally interesting as the Doctor is, since the Companion is supposed to be a more average person, while the Doctor is...the Doctor. To make the companion stand out as much as the Doctor is insanely hard...especially when Ncuti is a show stealer by showing up alone from his charisma.

Her performance was amazing though.

I've never been so impressed by a companion's performance (Anymore so than another) before like I was with Millie.

[silentwillowwhisperer]

Keith and Allura are still my favorite bestie pair.

Mkay, hi! This post is kinda sorta in continuation to another post I wrote.

You don't really have to read the other one to understand this, but it's a similar idea.

Big thanks to @haunted-glassesgurl who gave me the idea for this, go check out her account, she writes thing occasionally.

Waiiiit. Our convo was kinda long. Am I gonna be here for like forever?

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

Keith is in Allura's room yet again, this time with the princess sitting elegantly in front of him while he paints her.

For some reason, no matter where she is, the light always seems to hit her just right, and she always looks so effortlessly perfect. It makes her the perfect painting subject, her surreal beauty is quite literally alien to Keith.

But he knows that she's also caring and funny. It's hard to take someone seriously when you've watched the them snort like a pig because she was trying not to choke on food goo while watching Keith do a handstand on top of a ten foot tall bookshelf while singing House of Memories at the top of his lungs. It's a long story.

Anyway, he finishes and shows her his latest work. He's painted things for her dozens of times, and she always looks amazed.

She stands abruptly after glancing at the portrait for a couple seconds. Keith does not fall of the bed in surprise, shut up Allura.

"Keith Kogane of planet Earth, I name you the Official Royal Painter."

She says it with a teasing glint in her eye, but Keith looks shocked anyway.

"Really?" His eyes are starry with disbelief and happiness.

Of course, Allura had not been serious when she said that, but she had forgotten that Keith is a very angsty socially deprived child, and therefore cannot tell when someone is joking.

But how can Allura admit that to Keith when he looks like this? It's not possible! His way-to-adorable-for-his-own-good-kitten-puppy-eyes are on full force.

So now, when Keith is super stressed, he drags Allura into one of their rooms and just paints her for hours. She isn't exactly fond of sitting still for that long, but anything is better than seeing her best friend overwork himself to the point at which he regularly has to spend his nights in a healing pod in order to function.

And, sure, to anyone else it would seem like Keith is a creepy stalker who has nothing better to do than make artworks of Allura and stash them all over his room, but who cares? It's not like anyone will be snooping in there.

-

Lance realizes too late that he shouldn't be snooping in Keith's room.

It's not his fault! Keith had left the door to his room open for once, and how can anyone resist taking a peek in their crush's room?

So, really, Lance blames Keith entirely for his heart shattering into a million pieces.

He had decided to take a look in Keith's closet and see if the guy actually owns anything other than that stupidly short jacket. (How does it even provide Keith with warmth? It covers like 25% of his chest. Is he just a natural furnace??? Does he even take it off when he sleeps or is he just that committed to wearing overly cropped clothing and messing with Lance's weak heart?)

What he finds is painting after painting of Allura. Sure, she's pretty, but this is like an obnoxious amount of portraits.

Before, Lance had hoped and wished and thought that maybe, just maybe Keith might return Lance's feelings.

But now there is no doubt, Keith has a crush on Allura.

-

Keith can't deal with this right now.

He has already had a stressful week, and now his crush is aggressively flirting with his friend.

Allura just laughs it off every time, but to Keith, it just drives the knife further into his tragic, gay heart every time Lance says something cheesy or winks in Allura's direction.

Why are all the best people so painfully STRAIGHT?

Keith can't decide if he wants to punch or kiss Lance's stupid face.

At this point, it shouldn't bother Keith. He's watched the energetic boy flirt with absolutely anything, (seriously. Keith once walked in on Lance practicing puck-up lines on a trash can with a sharpied face and bikini on it) but for some reason, he can't stop feeling his feelings.

So now, instead of being mature about this, he's ignoring Lance. Shiro keeps looking at him and shaking his head every fifteen seconds, but if Lance is gonna be an unintentional douchebag, then Keith is allowed to be petty.

Their old rivalry is back, an Keith can't help the tightening in his gut when he realizes that he and Lance are drifting apart once again.

-

Allura is very close to strangling someone.

Honestly! Keith and Lance both clearly like each other, and yet they’re both set on restarting this silly rivalry of theirs.

If Lance says ‘Keith and Lance neck and neck’ one more time, Allura will have his neck.

She’s tried being subtle. She has dropped so many hints that everyone on the ship has figured those two out by now.

And now she’s done. Those idiots are going to kiss each other, and they are going to enjoy it, because Allura has put way to much effort into them.

After dinner that night, Allura grabs Lance by the collar and drags him onto a deserted hallway.

He yelps and complains until he meets her icy glare.

Allura has never shut someone up so quick, and it satisfies her greatly.

“Listen up Lonce. Not only have been flirting with me shamelessly for months, but you’re also failing to see what’s right in front of you. I don’t know about you, but the look Keith gives you every time you dismiss him breaks my heart. So, if you don’t fancy being ejected into space right now, you will go confess to that boy and kiss him like you mean it.”

Lance blinks at her in shock before responding.

“But- the paintings! And he’s in your room a-all the time!” he splutters.

Allura drags her perfectly manicured hand down her face with a groan.

“Well excuse me for being a good subject for his art. If you haven’t noticed, we’re friends, and that’s it. Now shut your trap and go find him.”

The next day, Allura almost combusts when the pair walks into the kitchen bickering. That is, until she notices their find smiles and tangled fingers.

[sweetfirebird]

Hmm I have been perusing Threads, god help me, and I guess it is once again because I do not use Twitter or because I am a small fry in the genre, but authors keep bringing up issues they are having that are terrible, or are new to them. And these are just not new. Like at all. So once again the same conversations are being had. (Over and over and over again. Sigh.)

I suppose it's possible that m/m romance (not queer romance, this is people who use m/m only as a term that I have seen) is getting an influx of new readers who are pulling the same "ew actual queer characters and actual gay men writers in my m/m" bullshit, so authors are getting hit with new waves of angry comments and reviews and DMs. And some of those complaining might be new authors who don't know what a certain portion of the m/m romance world is like, so this is genuinely new to them.

But it also reminds me of the reasons I started using queer romance as a descriptor when possible instead of m/m--so that it is clear right out of the gate that more than only cis (and frequently masc) gay men would be in the story. So maybe I wouldn't get those readers and comments. Which seems to have mostly worked. A lot of writers chose queer romance over m/m romance as a term and they seem to get fewer readers but also they get queer readers. Or more open-minded readers. (They still get shit. But in that way that you kind of expect, being online and queer.)

(BUT, maybe, the cynical part of me wonders if some of the posts are legitimate complaints from gay men writers having to deal with the 'm/m is not for gay men' nonsense, and the rest are posts made to get engagement. (To be clear I do believe those writers here, but maybe not all of the responders. Or I believe the responders are supportive, but I think their surprise at the problem existing is a bit perfomative.) But that is the cynical part of me and I hope it is wrong. )

Or maybe the larger, more popular m/m romance writers are getting a sudden surge of negative comments about, as one example, bi characters as love interests. The negative comments are certainly happening. I've gotten that stuff from editors, and I have definitely noticed that any of my stories that might in any way involve someone, somewhere having a pussy are read less than the cis dude stories. But the part of me that stopped using m/m (except in bookseller categories when you have to etc) and who has read many of the summaries for the bestselling books in the genre is also like... maybe the 'cis gay male, large top, smaller bottom, fairly strict and heteronormative gender roles, sometimes omegas but not with cunts' books... kind of encourage that sort of audience.

I mean if you are only writing one kind of gay relationships in one kind of way in your books that is fine, and you have an audience, which is great! But I don't think it should be that surprising to you that most of that audience is not going to like something else.

Not that writers shouldn't complain or branch out. Not that readers shouldn't be biphobic or queerphobic or transphobic shitheads. Because jfc of course they shouldn't and they should check their entitlement. But the *certain portion* of the m/m romance audience that will openly insult gay male authors just for existing or using the term m/m (fucking hell) is in an overlapping venn diagram with the portion of the audience who get the ick from queer characters who are not cis males and relationships that are not heteronormative.

I do think some of the problem is that the genre was based on m/f romance, which is full of toxic shit and has serious problems (including white supremacy, but also sexism, homophobia, misogyny, and a weirdly horny prudishness). But I also think the writers who have been in the m/m genre for a while acting surprised that the gay writers are getting attacked or that people don't want bi characters are being a bit disingenuous. Unless you are brand new to the genre... yeah it's been like that. Queerphobia and misogyny festering beneath the surface since the beginning. If you want to combat that, cool, but of you didn't notice until now... why not?

[namazunomegami]

This post is for @sniigura and me but you can read it too /j

Thank you darling for letting me ramble about some of my original story ideas 💕 My blog mainly features fics so I think there's no point to share them, even tho I have a lot concepts and characters that I've developed in my earlier years as a writer.

Cw: a lil mention of prostitution and kidnapping, my characters in general have disastrous upbringings

The first idea that I somehow circled back to came to me in the form of a very vivid dream. I rarely have dreams, and I'm especially surprised and at awe that I still remember the story with all the details and imagery.

The story is set in the Edo period of Japan and it's focused on a girl named Otomuro (my brain somehow recalled the name of a noblewoman from the Fujiwara clan. Probably I was searching for names for an oc and for japanese ocs specifically, I tend to use the names of actual people so I have the proper characters in kanji), who's abducted by a yokai. Luckily, when I did some research on japanese folklore, I found numerous yokais who frequently kidnapped children from their parents. And this story and even the original dream was full of various creatures and spirits from japanese culture.

When Otomuro is an adult, she's forced into prostitution. Though she frequently tries to escape the yokai, all her attempts result in failure. The yokai states that she's its favorite child and acts like an abusive mother figure towards her. She gets really close with one of her clients who is a ronin, a samurai without a master. His character is still really vague but I remember that he promises that one day he'll rescue her and helps her reuniting with her family. And that's basically it.

I mostly spend time with building Otomuro as a character and I did come up with a scene when she's serving as a kamuro, basically a lady-in-waiting for high ranking courtesans. Courtesans had a good relationship with their kamuros. They treated them like their younger sisters because they had mutual responsibility towards the other. Kamuros ran different errands for courtesans like delivering letters, gifts, or luring clients in to their brothel and in return, the courtesan fed, dressed and sheltered the kamuro.

This story is in a veeery slow progress, but I'm 100% sure that it can be an awesome idea for a novel. If I can come up with anything to fill in the missing parts.

The second idea is a short story that focuses on two original characters from an unfinished novel. That... sadly will remain unfinished. I'm very much heartbroken that I won't finish it, I put tremendous research into the setting, wrote over 140k words, prepared a massive appendix for further context and explanations but one single character's arc and personality fucked the whole thing up. He was supposed to be an antagonistic character but I just kept building him and he became a rather sympathetic lil fella, and he shouldn't be a character you can feel sympathy for. And it doesn't feel right for me to continue... My boy massacred the whole story lmao.

I've had a rather large cast for this novel, and the characters are with me for more than 3 years now. I know what kind of life they're going to lead, how their life started and how it'll end. They're very much their own distinct person, almost alive, and somehow they can function quite well in a different setting. Nowadays, I really like to think about them as one traumatised, queer, neurodiverse and multicultural friend group lmao. They're my children, I can never let them go or forget about them.

Yeah, back to the story, since most of the characters are highly developed and established, sometimes they just start talking inside my head. That's how my writing process usually start. The story is rather simple, my main characters, Lotte and Nikolai have a little catch up after 3 years of seperation.

I started to entertain this idea because until now, I never had the chance to develop crucial parts of these character's life. Mainly Lotte's relationship with her adoptive children (they didn't even have genders or names but now I'm settled on two boys) and one of her most dangerous coping mechanisms to deal with her depression and C-PTSD, which is none other than dissociative amnesia, and how it circles back to the kids. Lotte is a loving mother, but not an ideal, perfect parent. She's very much dependent on her older kid and quite possessive towards the younger one. Her kids must take care of her the same way she does for them too. Nikolai had several failed marriages throughout his life but the reasons and causes were unclear. So I decided to make a background character, Ulyana, as his first wife (Ulyana is still a special character for me because I named her after a russian friend I had online during quarantine. It's sorta a habit of mine to name characters after people I know and love, like Lotte's mother is named after my aunt and Nikolai's best friend is named after my grandfather and such). So the easiest way to solve these issues is to make the characters sit down and talk.

Lotte and Nikolai share a very complex and deep relationship. It's filled with a lot of understanding, gentleness, playfulness and platonic love. And even some romantic love on Nikolai's part which gives a kind of tragic edge to the whole thing. Nikolai is very much in love with Lotte, that's why his marriages fail but Lotte can't reciprocate this kind of love because she's well... canonically aroace (but like nearly all of my characters are queer this shouldn't be surprising), she has no desire to be a romantic partner or a wife but she does want to be a mother. They've been through a lot, they have an effect on each other, they make each other grow. Lotte smiles and laughs only in the company of Nikolai (and besides my russian characters only she's allowed to call him by his diminutive, Kolya) and Nikolai is capable of selfless acts to ensure Lotte's safety, though he's still a morally grey character, he's willing to achieve it by comitting corrupt and questionable things even.

But as much as I love them, the plot were abandoned before I could've written a longer interaction between them. There’s a draft of their first scene, however, there’s still an enormous language barrier between them so they can’t communicate that well. But these two really deserve their own seperate story.

Thank u bby for letting me share this with the world, hope you have a wonderful day 🥰💗

[sockiestupidity]

desc: miggy and reader bond over catholic guilt🤭

warnings: probs religious trauma, (possibly) bad spanish and bad writing, bad dialogue, ooc miguel (probs), panic attack, VERY SOFT MIGUEL LIKE ACTUALLY IM NOT EVEN OVER EXAGGERATING

VERBAL READER?????

you were roaming around spider society as usual, finding comfort in the unusual ambiance. as you walk to miguel's office to turn in your reports (lab?? room?? idk) you feel slightly off but are unsure as to why. as you enter the room you're met with miguel's back. you snap to get his attention.

he turns around "I've been expecting you for a while. Do you have the reports that I asked you for?" he looks at you expectantly, raising an eyebrow slightly.

you hand him the papers and watch as he sifts through the papers. he lets out a satisfactory hum "perfect." he pauses for a moment, setting the papers aside "are you free? i'd like to give you some pointers, your hands on combat is still sloppy" he explains.

your monotone expression changes to one of shock, surprised that miguel wanted to offer you training. you begin to rack your brain, you knew you were supposed to go somewhere, but you weren't sure where. all you knew was that something was wrong. you hesitantly nod, still having a slightly off feeling as you do so.

your brain makes a sudden realization, tuning out the world as you begin to panic somebody is trying to speak to you but it sounds muffled, as if you're underwater. you watch as the blurry figure approches you with worry.

"hey. look at me for a second" the voice speaks out. you dont respond as the figure attempts to console you. "Mírame por favor. Mírame" strong large hands grip your shoulders, attempting to bring you out of your daze.

"Escucha mi respiración" you hear calm breathing and attempt to match the steady breath. you let out a choked cry, feeling a pain in your chest, a tear rolls down your face "shh shh. Escúchame" your breathing begins to calm "that's right, you're doing so good" he praises you as your breathing starts to steady out.

you look up, eyes meeting his face "m-m sorry" you manage to get out. your lip trembles. you couldn't believe that this was happening infront of the man who was basically your boss.

you watch as his face softens, and he speaks once more "it's not your fault" he reassures you. you begin to walk away from him, ready to leave "wait" he pauses, grabbing your attention "do you-" he hesitates "do you want to talk about it?" he asks you.

you look at him in surprise. you take a shaky breath and nod. he pulls out a chair for you "go ahead, sit" he offers. you're still in shock, having never seen miguel act like this. you take the seat.

"go ahead, whenever you're ready. you can take your time if you'd like" his chair is turned to face yours.

you nod and take another breath. "so um. i dunno. i guess i just. i just freaked out thats all" you try to downplay the situation at hand. your voice is small, not used to talking to other people.

he frowns slightly "what..what led to that?" he asks you, wanting to get a better understanding.

you shrug in response "realized that i forgot that i was supposed to be somewhere today" you respond vaguely.

he gives you an expression that tells you that he knows you're not telling him the full story.

you let out a heavy sigh "um-i uh.. i was supposed to um attend church today and i..forgot" you admit.

his face contorts into a surprised expression "i didn't know you were catholic"

"i mean, not really. my parents were though" you look down at your feet "you know, it's kinda funny, theyre gone and i still feel guilty when i dont go"

he hums in understanding "i was raised catholic too" you perk up at his words "we're more similar than you may think" he smiles sadly "you're not bad for not going to church, okay? plenty of people have done worse. you shouldn't be attending out of fear, you should be attending if it's something you want to do and enjoy"

you hesitantly nod, still feeling terrible about the situation. you wipe away your stray tears.

he suddenly gets up "i wamt to show you something" you quirk your head in intrest "come on" he gestures for you to get up.

you nod and follow him. you find yourself in an elevator heading up. the both of you end up on the roof of the building.

"sometimes i come up here to have a bit of thinking time to myself" he explains as if he could sense your confusion"there's so many things ive done in my life that..i think god would be displeased with, and i often find myself thinking that maybe all of..the stuff that's happened in my life happened because of what i did. whenever i start thinking like that i come here" he looks into the skyline

"if you ever start feeling like that, i want you to come here, close your eyes, and take a deep breath" he speaks in a fatherly tone. you nod.

something about being in that space felt therapeutic to you, and you felt comforted by a sense of familiarity "thank you"

he looks at you softly "of course" you then bring him into a hug. his body stiffens for a moment but then embraces you in return. "you can talk to me if you're having these kinds of thoughts again, okay?" you nod and just let him embrace you. the both of you let go and just stare up at the sky in silence. you close your eyes and let yourself feel the wond brush against your skin.

A/N: not my best work but i had to get this idea out of my brain😮‍💨 anyways i rlly hate this qnd will probs delete later lol