#so now im sitting here STILL dizzy running mental calculations on how i can get this bitch out of peril without reworking everything

[turtlespancake]

me when i write a character who is prone to dooming themself and then they run off and doom themself. core traits are stubbornness and a willingness to disregard their own humanity gET BACK HERE IM NOT DONE WITH YOU

[manawhaat]

Roots pt.3

Title: Roots pt.3

Characters: Jeffrey Dean Morgan x Reader

Summary: Jeff is home on the farm for a few months between shooting and he plans to make the most of his time with you. 

Warnings: Fluff, lightly implied smut.

Word Count: 3.8k

A/N: I love the fam bam but for all intents and purposes Hil, Gus, and George do not exist. Last part of the series commissioned by @team-free-will-you-idjits-67​. Thank you so much for letting me run with this, for commissioning me, and for being patient as I banged out the series! If anyone is interested in commissioning me, send an ask or IM and we can chat :) And a big shout out to my beta, @crispychrissy​! You’re a goddamn gem. Thanks for reading, y’all :)

Part I   Part 2

Crowds are moving around him but Jeff’s face fills the FaceTime screen and he pulls his cap a little lower as he speaks. “I’ve gotta go, my flight is boarding right now. I’ve got a driver pickin’ me up at the airport so I’ll see you at home in a couple of hours.”

Dancing around on your tiptoes, you grin at the screen and he chuckles at how excited you are. “Okay, well have a safe flight and I’ll see you soon, babe. Love you.”

“Love you, sweetheart.” Jeff waves a hand and blows a kiss before hanging up to board his flight home. 

With the show finally wrapped for the season, his schedule is clear for the first time in months. He has almost three months with nothing keeping him from you, and you can’t wait to start making up for lost time. 

The dinner table is set and your outfit is laid out on the bed. Two bottles of his favorite wine sit in the wine fridge and your nervous excitement has a flutter in your chest and a smile on your face that you just can’t tame. As if they can sense it, all the animals around the farm are giddy and restless when you make your last rounds of the day and tuck them away early so you won’t have to worry about them later tonight. The dogs are glued to your side and you can’t help but egg them on, talking excitedly to them about daddy coming home as they bark their excitement back at you. 

When the chores are done and you’re fresh out of the shower, you get that text that tells you he’ll be there in thirty. It sends a thrill up your spine and as you slip into new lingerie, a warm pulse settles between your legs. The thought of him stripping you out of your clothes and the look on his face at the sight of the new lace is almost too much to bear. Anticipation builds, making each beat of your heart rattle hard against your ribs. With lotion and his favorite perfume on your skin, you finish getting dressed and rush downstairs to check on the food in the oven. It’s perfectly cooked, right on time, and the dogs start barking while you pull it out and set it on the stove top to cool. 

“He’s here, guys!” A joyous smile blooms on your face as you head to the door and let them rush out to greet the black car pulling up the long drive. 

Speckled sunlight drops from the trees and glitters over his frame as he exits the car and bends over to playfully greet the dogs. Fur and dust flies up in the yellow and orange tinted air around them, and when he rights himself from the happy scuffle his eyes meet yours. 

A weight lifts from your shoulders and the happiness that fills you is infectious. He’s grinning from ear to ear and a rush of dopamine floods your brain at the sight of it. That high you get when he’s around urges your feet to move under you, and your brain is fuzzy, eyes only focused on him as you both move towards each other. 

The dogs jump and bark around you, but the grumbling sound of his voice is loud enough for you to hear. “Goddamn, it is good to be home.” 

Strong arms pull you in and his slightly-chapped lips catch on your own as you relish the moment and drink him in. His kiss is everything you want it to be, and more. It always is. Tongue soft and wet, warmth seeping from his skin into yours, beard tickling your cheeks and palms where you hold him against you. He lets out his breath, the dampness of it fanning over your face when he pulls back to rest his forehead against yours, and you can’t help but lean back in for a second helping. And a third. And a fourth. 

By the time you stop kissing him the dogs have wandered off and the driver has already unloaded his bags and dropped them by the front door. 

“Thanks, Jerry,” he says, breaking away from you just long enough to shake his driver’s hand and wave him off. 

Tires grinding down on the dirt fade away and his hands are on you again, this time dropping down over your hips and behind you to give your ass a squeeze. The pressure lures you in and he bends, grips, and hauls you up against him, cradling the backs of your thighs as your legs wrap tight around his waist. 

The smell of food and home hits his nose, but he’s too caught up in the smell of your perfume to pay attention to it. He’s got you in his arms, curves against his body, the taste of your tongue in his mouth. Home is where you are, and instinct leads him to the couch, falling into it and taking you with him.  

Running gentle fingers through his hair, you whisper damply against his temple. “Welcome home, Jeffrey.”

Weathered hands urge your thighs further open, grip at your ass and scoot you closer against him, pulling you deep into his lap, like he’s trying to make the two of you one being. Fingerprints slip up your spine, lingering on the lines of the lingerie beneath you dress. The weight of his hands in your hair and on your neck leave you dizzy and his dark auburn eyes glow in the fading light spilling into the house. 

“Vancouver wasn’t enough. It’s never enough...” He kisses you again, deep and slow. “Can’t ever get enough of you, sweetheart.” 

Pure joy stretches through you from head to toe, curls your lips against his and pulls a sigh from your lips as you nestle deep into his neck to hide the blush he never fails to paint your cheeks with. Shuffling and clinking seep through your enamored state and curious eyes drift up, only to shoot wide open and fill with authority. 

“Bandit!!” 

Jeffrey jumps in surprise at the yell so close to his ear, but the dog trying to steal your perfect dinner off the table stops and turns wide, guilty eyes on you. “Leave it,” you grit, relaxing back into Jeff’s lap after he sulks off through the house. 

“Unbelievable. The one time I cook a nice meal for you that little thief tries to fuck it up,” you half-laugh, shaking your head in lighthearted disbelief. 

Jeff grins up at you and your eyes narrow down at his. “What?”

The grin turns into a smile, then a chuckle, and he drawls out, “Just love hearin’ ya take charge, is all.”

Your head shakes for an entirely different reason, and you pull yourself out of his lap and stand in front of him with your hands on your hips. “Alright, funny guy. Ha, ha. Now get up and come eat before I give it to the dogs.”

At your warning, Jeff’s face lights up and he laughs under his breath. “Yes, ma’am.” 

----------

Jeff’s been home for almost a month and every day has been filled with tender touches and adventures around the farm. The steady crunch of leaves fills your ears as you walk along the property, simply enjoying the day and the man you’re with. 

“Where’s your favorite spot on this property?”

The question breaks a long silence that’s fallen between you and you grin, pressing yourself up against him. Pulling his arms around you, you lean up and kiss the side of his neck twice, only answering his question when he moans on the third. “Right here,” you tease. 

Jeff lets out a throaty chuckle but pulls back to look you in the eye. “I’m serious.” His hand links with yours and you start walking again. 

The sun shines in your eyes as you peer at him with skeptical brows. “Favorite spot for what?”

He lets out a little grumble but can’t hide his dimply smile. “Just, your favorite spot. Where is it? If you don’t tell me I’m gonna pick for you and then you’ll be screwed.”

Glaring in his direction, you walk in silence for another minute or two, trying to figure out if he’s gonna break or not. He doesn’t, and you concede with a sigh. “Ok, fine. Lemme show you.”

Tugging his hand and turning around, you make your way leisurely across the farm to lead him there. “Here ya go, Mystery Man.”

“This is it?” he confirms, and you nod his way. 

Jeffrey takes a few steps away from you and surveys the land seriously. It’s almost comical watching him as he paces back and forth, measuring with his feet and eyeballing the space from all around. You’re confused, but you also know that he can, and will, keep his secrets, so you watch in amusement and just let him do his thing. When he’s made his mental notes and calculations his demeanor softens and he rejoins you in the spot where he left you. 

“Why is this your favorite?”

Sucking in a deep breath, you pull away from him and turn in a slow circle, then close your eyes. The air here is filled with energy that you can feel in your bones, the vibrations of it filling your body from the ground up. It leaves you giddy and alive, cracking a smile onto your lips when you turn back to Jeff and answer. 

“There’s just something, here. When we come out here at night this spot is my favorite view of the stars. This is the best angle on the house, you can see the pond, the barns. I mean, it kinda feels a little random, but this is it.”

He cocks an eyebrow your way and gleans. “I thought you were gonna say ‘where the magic happens’.”

Head shaking, you pull him in by the lapels of his jacket. “Magic happens all over this farm, Jeffy. And it’s still magical even when you’re not around.” You wink up at him and he shoots you a scandalized scoff, playful growls and shrieks filling the air as you run off across the pasture with him hot on your tail. 

----------

About a month before Jeff’s break is over, you stumble downstairs into the kitchen. There’s a soreness in you, bone deep. You had quite the night last night-- most days and nights since Jeff’s been home-- and your achy legs lead you down the stairs and into the kitchen for a much needed cup of coffee. Smirking at the remnants of his lips and body on yours, you pour the fresh brew into your favorite mug and set the pot back down in the maker. 

You’re half way out of the kitchen when you realize what you’ve just done and you catch it out loud. “Wait a minute...” 

Turning back around, you eye the pot of coffee suspiciously and take a few steps toward the window. Jeffrey never makes a full pot unless you’ve got company over. 

Looking around, you find nothing out of sorts, so you leave the kitchen and find your confirmation as you peer out of the window near the mudroom. Outside there’s a crew of men with gardening tools standing in a group talking with Jeff. He’s gesturing and pointing, then nods and heads your way as they disperse in different directions. The ground is dewy this early in the morning and the golden specks of sunlight shine vibrantly on his face when he gets near enough to the house to meet your eyes through the window. 

Creaking and shuffling fills your ears before he emerges from the mud room, shaking off the cold morning chill to drop a kiss to your lips. “Oh, good. You’re up. Didja sleep alright?” 

“Wha- yeah. Uh, what’s with the guys out there?”

Your response elicits a chuckle and he rustles around in the kitchen for a few water bottles before answering. “I’m happy you asked!” Cheery and boisterous, you flinch a little, but he rushes over to you, grinning. “It’s just a little surprise I’ve whipped up for ya. I was thinking’ about makin’ you wait until we were done, but if you wanna come out and see it then go get dressed and we’ll wait for you to start,” he promises. 

Before you can ask any follow up questions or begin the mental gymnastics of what surprise he could give you that involves a bunch of gardeners in work boots and hard hats, he’s gone again with Honeydog and Bandit trailing behind him. 

Downing your coffee, you rush upstairs to go change, muttering to yourself along the way. “Alright you sneaky fucker. Let’s see what you’re up to.” ----------

The tree is fucking HUGE, and for a moment you’re utterly confused. 

“Tada!” Jeffrey holds his hands out and presents you with his master surprise. It’s loaded up on the back of a tractor-trailer, closed in with large metal blades around what you can only assume are the roots of the tree.  

A flurry of emotions confounds you and your face hides none of it. The workers chuckle along with Jeff as you go from confused and bewildered to amused and in love, and then some. 

“C’mon, sweetheart. Let’s show ‘em where its new home is,” Jeff says with a wink, and your heart flops in your chest, going through all of the emotions once again. 

The crew follows you and Jeff to your favorite spot on the farm. He looks to you for confirmation and your brilliant smile sets them all in motion. They’re a well oiled machine, measuring and digging with excavators and shovels. Jeff jumps in and you start to help but he gently shoots you down. 

“This is for you, Y/n. I don’t want you doin’ any of this work. Why don’t you go back inside and have some breakfast, hang out, and I’ll call you back out when we’re ready…” 

Guilt worms into your chest at leaving them to do all the work, but he’s got a point. They’re a team of professionals and it’s their job. Half-dejected, you make it back to the house and mosey around the kitchen, feeling useless and put out. The fridge gets pulled open six times before it finally clicks and you’re set in motion. 

Half an hour later you’ve whipped up enough breakfast burritos to feed everyone and head back out to check on the progress, leaving the food in a low temperature oven to keep it warm. The earth has been removed and the truck with the tree on it is already backed up near the large hole. 

“Hey, just in time. I was about to go getcha,” says Jeffrey, coming over to slump a heavy arm around your shoulders. 

The two of you stand back and watch as the tree is transplanted and set firmly in its new home, and when the oaken giant is upright, you and Jeff jump in to help the crew even out the churned earth.  

Jeff tucks the care instructions into his back pocket and you stop the guys from leaving, instead leading them to the house to distribute the food you’d made. With profuse thanks all around, they take the burritos to go and shake hands before leaving the farm in its serene state.

After snagging a bite to eat, you both head back to admire it and finish leveling out the excess soil still surrounding the new tree. The dirt moves easily and you work in comfortable quietness for a few moments before Jeff turns to you and asks, “You remember when I asked you to move out here with me?” 

Sniffing away the dust, you nod his way and flash him a winded smile. “Of course I do,” you answer, pushing your shovel into the ground and laughing at the memory. “We were on that road trip on your bike and we stopped in… fuck, I don’t even know where we were,” you admit. “But we’d been riding for hours, and we stopped for a little picnic. Just rode off the road into a random field and set up camp like a couple of hippies.”

“It was a nice spot!” His words are defensive, but he’s right, and he’s grinning. 

“You asked me and whipped out a bottle of champagne when I said yes, and then the fuckin’ cork bounced off the tree and hit you square in the mouth.” Jeff buries his shovel and joins you, letting you take his face in your hands as you both laugh. “Busted your lip wide open.”

“And you wouldn’t stop apologizing,” he reminds you, kissing your thumb when you smooth it over his bottom lip. “Couldn’t get you to stop freaking out, either. You kept talking about how that musta been some kinda sign… that you shouldn’t move in with me.” 

You laugh, loud and cringey, mortified of the memory. “Oh, god. I almost broke up with you!” Jeff chuckles at the grimace on your face. “Everything on that trip just kept going wrong. The hotels fucked up your bookings, we barely dodged a tornado, my phone was stolen, we got lost-”

“More than once,” he adds. 

“It felt like everything was going wrong and they were all signs. I was so convinced things were going too fast, that I wasn’t right for you and that we shouldn’t have been together...”

He hums, deep enough to feel the vibrations of it rattle in your bones. “Mmm, did a good job talkin’ you outta that, now didn’t I?”

His hands inch lower, gently rest on your ass and you blush up at him, not even trying to hide the swoon at the way he made love to you out in the open that day. 

“Oh, you sure did…”

Honest eyes take you in, admire the way you fawn over him- revel in how you make him feel alive like nothing else in this world- and then drift up to the tree you’re standing beneath. 

“This tree look familiar?” 

The question catches you off guard and your brain scrambles for a moment, eyes darting between him and the thick trunk. That’s impossible. 

“W-what?” you gasp. Stumbling out of his arms, you approach and circle the tree. When you look back at Jeff he’s got his hands shoved in his pockets and he shrugs knowingly. “Shut the fuck up, Jeff. No.” 

Smiles bloom between you and you shake your head in astonishment, rambling as a slew of emotions crashes through you. “What?! No. No! There’s no way. Y-you… Jeffy, you don’t even know where we were. Babe,” you implore, continuing through the revelation. “Babe, seriously? This is that- this is the same tree?”

An earnest nod has tears springing from your eyes and your feet racing back to the man you love. His arms welcome you home as you crash into his chest and find a safe place to bury your happy smile. 

“So this is why you wanted to know my favorite spot, huh?” The scent of sweat and dirt fills your nose as you tug him in for a smiley kiss brimmed with tears. “God, you’re such a sap,” you tease lovingly. “Jeffrey, seriously, I can’t tell you how much I love this.”

He smiles down at you with a funny little gleam in his eye. It grows and shines, mists over his irises and his dimples pop as he gently forces the two of you apart. “Well-” he pulls off his gloves, drops them to the ground, and smirks- “actually, this is why I wanted to know your favorite spot…”

Digging a hand into the pocket of his jeans, he fishes something out, then drops to his knee. A pristine diamond ring glistens delicately between his slightly dirty fingers and there’s sweat on his brow when he squints the sun out of his eyes to look up at you. 

The air that enters your lungs does nothing to quell your shortness of breath. Tears fill your eyes and you let out a wail of surprise and excitement, hands flying to cover your mouth. 

Jeffrey reaches out and takes your left hand, squeezing it in his, and croaks out, “Woman, let me get this out.” You sob out a laugh and nod down at him, body trembling as he clears his throat to speak. 

“Y/n… I wanna put down roots with you. Here on this farm, or wherever you are. I wanted to know where your favorite place is so I could make it special, like you did when you carved out a spot in my heart. I wanted to give you something that will last, just like the love you’ve given me. Having you around makes me feel alive in a way I couldn’t be with anyone else, and when I see you, I’m home. It’s a little corny,” he chuckles, “I know, but it’s true. So, darlin’, if you say yes, I promise to marry you right here under this tree, or wherever you want. Hell, I’ll marry ya on the fuckin’ moon if you ask me to,” he laughs, voice strained and deep through the tears he’s trying, and failing, to hold back. 

“I’d have no greater honor than being your husband and loving you until I die. So, whaddya say? Wanna put down some roots, marry this old man in front of ya?” He grins through the tears and winks up at you. “If you wanted, I think we could probably make some pretty cute babies, too.” 

Cheeks burning, you sob out his name and nod frantically, smiling so wide it’s hard for your lips to actually form the word ‘yes’. Your hand shakes and uneven breaths stumble from your mouths as he slowly slides the ring onto your finger. The two of you stare at it in awe, admiring the symbol of love and the promise it holds. Then he’s up in an instant, hugging you so hard his fingerprints blossom on your skin and kissing you long enough that the ridges of his lips grow roots that tangle with yours.

When the sun has fallen that night, the tree is surrounded by stars and washed in moonlight. Jeff catches you admiring the stoic shadow from the bedroom window and gentle hands land on your hips while his lips climb the back of your neck to whisper in your ear. 

“So, whaddya gonna call it?” 

You turn in his arms, the diamond on your finger sparkling in the firelight before your fingers disappear in his hair. Fondly, you smile, and your answer curls his lips. 

“I think I’ll call him Jeffrey.”

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[sweetcatmintea]

Lemon and Ginger and All That

@hannahs-creations very kindly provided a random four word prompt to make into a drabble. Thanks for the prompt! Sorry it took a hot minute to write <u<;; 

I hope you enjoy this little scene ^u^ Feedback is appreciated!

Prompt:  vitality, manage, fluster and gleefully

Words: 1768

Characters: Marcos, Whitney, Freddy (Briefly), and Mella

          Chaotic didn’t cover the state of the 6pm Café. Freddy’s promotion idea went over so well last fortnight, people were practically lining up to see what they’d do to the menu this time. The apple and elder-flower brew did not disappoint. Perfectly refreshing in the warming days of early spring, with a gentle aroma that transported you to the countryside, apple picking with your gran. Light, crumbly, pastries and tiny finger sandwiches sold almost as quickly as they were prepared. Every time a happy customer left, two more would arrive. That may be a little dramatic. It certainly felt like facing the hydra of the food industry at least. Marcos and Freddy were run off their feet greeting customers, taking orders, brewing tea, selling dry blends, answering questions, transporting food, and trying to squeeze in spot cleans. Uncle Antonio hopped between the register and the kitchen, saving Leroy from the flood of demands.

          What terrible timing for Whitney to have to skip out. Although she complained about it, she lived for the busy days like today. She loved to get lost in the hustle, while still managing to find a sense of order and co-ordinating the boys. Marcos had never seen anyone more determined not to take a sick day. When the first thing Whitney did that morning was bolt to the bathroom to re-evaluate dinner, it was clear there was no avoiding it. Regardless of how it went down, the result was the same. Whitney was stuck at home while the boys played the service edition of the floor is lava. (Or would that be the customers?)

          Marcos’ mind was a blur of orders and customers, but he didn’t let himself lose track of time. As soon as the hour ticked over, he tagged out. Of course, he checked that Freddy and Uncle Antonio could manage without him first. Not wasting a second more of his lunch break, he slipped into the backroom, tore off his uniform, replacing it with a change of clothes he’d prepared earlier, and was gone.

          The walk to their house was made significantly faster by running. Marcos was at the painted off-white door in record time. The plan to catch his breath while he fiddled with his pockets looking for his key met a hitch when he couldn’t locate it. Briefly panicking that he’d left it at the café, Marcos tried to calculate how long it would take to run back to get it, would that take too long? It didn’t fall out while he was running did it?? He’d have to go and find it before someone else did. Should he just risk waking Whitney and asking her to let him in? Ah but she won’t get better if she’s no- wait a minute. There it is. False alarm. Fishing the key out of the depths of its fabric prison, Marcos let himself in as quietly as possible. If he was careful, he should be able to avoid the creaky floorboards.

          “I cab ‘ear ‘ou.”

          Never mind. He followed Whitney’s raspy croak to the living room, still mindful to tread lightly. She was huddled on the couch, cocooned with blankets and half draped over the arm of the chair. Mella, taking the role of mother hen, sprawled over Whitney’s tracksuit clad legs, incubating her just in case folding herself into cotton origami wasn’t enough. Fever was obvious, painted over Whitney’s sweaty face, interrupted occasionally by loose strands of hair. She hadn’t even bothered to tie it back. Even in illness, she was an over-achiever.

          “Were you asleep?” He tired to keep his voice soft despite its gravelly texture. Judging by the way the radio was on, but turned down to its lowest possible volume, she probably had a headache. He wondered briefly if she was resenting her rabbit hearing at the moment.

          Whitney shook her head, waving his worries off. “I was ju- uh- aacho!” Another balled up tissue in the over-stuffed bin. “I was jus’ dyin’g apparendly. No, I was listenig do the mid-day stories. Whab are ‘ou doin’g ‘ere?” Mella whined and wiggled closer to Whitney’s flushed face. She was supposed to be resting!

          Marcos shrugged. “I got you some tea. Give me a second, I’ll make it for you. It’s called, uh, ‘Vitalitea’ and it’s got lemon and ginger and all that. Should hopefully make you feel better.” It couldn’t make her any worse at least. Red eyes and streaming nose, it was almost painful to see her so far from her bubbly self.

          Whitney had always been good at reading people. Just because she was unwell didn’t mean she couldn’t see the crease setting into Marcos’ forehead. He was always so busy worrying about others. The demand he not pity her fell away to the realisation of what he’d said.

          “You cabe back jusd ‘o bake tea?”

          “No. I’ll get you some lunch too.” He wandered off to the kitchen to get started, entirely missing the touched shock he left her in. According to his calculations, he was still on track even after stalling to get into the house. The majority of making food was just waiting for the tea to brew. It took next to no time to make a sandwich or boil water. While the tea was brewing, he grabbed a brush and a hair tie, returning to the sick bunny.

          Seeing her face a tiny bit more flushed made his stomach twist. Was it really okay for her to stay here alone?

          “Can you sit up? I’ll put your hair up since I’m here.”

          Whitney sighed dramatically but wiggled her way to a sitting(ish) position, much to Mella’s disapproval. “Leab me here to die. I’b not lon’g for thid worlb.”

          “Nah, I think we’ll save ya Cottontail. You know Freddy and me’ll be lost without ya at the café.” He chuckled, combing the brush through her long, long, hair. She tried not to think about how his breath tickled her ear, sending tingles down her spine.

          “I tolb ‘ou nod do call be that.” She huffed. Her mock anger easy to see through. It she’d really wanted him to stop, he would have done so immediately. “You’re righbt tho. You do neeb me. Who else can stob Fred’dy frob gleefully bestering beople on dates?”

          “He’s not even here and you’re picking on ���im?”

          “I’b allobed to. It’s by twind given righbt.”

          “Can’t argue with that.” Marcos’ hands worked quickly, twisting the strands into a roughly uniform braid. Whitney may have preferred a bun, but that just wasn’t in his skill set yet. As he worked, his own auburn curls wiggled loose. The ponytail must’ve come undone on his way over. He probably should just cut the shaggy mane, but he liked the feeling of it brushing his skin.

          Whitney released her arm from the blanket burrito to playfully tug a strand. “You’re kinba a bess. Whab did ‘ou do, rub the whole bay?”

          “Yup.”

          His steady gaze caught her off guard. “Waib, really?” Whitney’s pink cheeks shifted much closer to a shade of red, causing Marcos’ brow to furrow. It didn’t help that she only seemed to heat up more when he pressed his hand to her forehead. She must’ve been really unwell, even her usually pale rabbit ears were tinted rose.

          “Hold on. I think your tea should be ready.” He vanished back into the kitchen, retying his hair as he went.

          The butterflies in Whitney’s brain were certainly just sickness making her dizzy. Nothing else. Mella stared at her. Judgementally. It wasn’t her fault her dumb heart was fluttering. Her pop rock pulse was obviously not her buzzing with giddiness. Of course she didn’t have a crush on Marcos. It didn’t matter how thoughtful he was, or how he made her feel special and appreciated with no ulterior motive. His gentle presence was just a part of him being Marcos. Falling for that would just be… well, it would be… Okay. She couldn’t lie to herself. Frog toes. It wasn’t the plague she’d managed to contract that made her face glow when he touched her. His concerned expression flashed across her mind. The tiny tilt of his scruffy eyebrows, the amber that almost glowed against the dark lines that always seemed to line his eyes, the way he looked at her. Oh dear, she melted into a goopy mess. Stars Above, she had Feelings for the scraggly hare. She had to compose herself. Pondering whether he felt something for her too would have to wait until he was gone. Working herself into a fluster was less than ideal. Upon the realisation, Mella smiled at her, in the way dogs do. If Whitney didn’t know better, she’d think Mella could read her mind. Why was she being so cocky? As if she figured it out first! Whitney’s mental rambling was interrupted by Marcos bringing in her lunch.

          “Here. I put honey in the tea. It’s s’posed to be good for sore throats? Mum used to do that for me, honey and milk I mean. Should help you too.” His ears twitched self-consciously. Sure it was common knowledge that honey was a good soother, but he still felt the need to explain himself. Maybe because Whitney almost always preferred not to sweeten her teas and he hadn’t forgotten that. Whitney smiled, still too pink for his liking, thanked him and took a sip, evaporating his worries.

          “There’s some medicine if you need it, and a bottle of water for later, y’know, so you don’t have to get up again… I’ve gotta head now or I’ll be late back. You gonna be okay?”

          “I’b a big girl, I’ll be okay.” She took another sip. “Than’gs fo’ this. I abbreciate ib.”

          “Not a problem. Just focus on betting better.”

          “Oh byeah, before you go, there’s somb faze wibes in by roob. Take theb with you to geb rib ob the sweat. You brobably smbell.” To make certain she wasn’t being overly sincere, she poked her tongue at him.

          “’course I do. I’m healthy so I can still breathe through my nose.” Marcos grabbed the wipes and darted out of the door before he had to face her faux fury.

          It took a sprint, but he made it back to the café with just enough time to clean up and get re-dressed. He was tired as anything and had forgotten about his own lunch in the process of it all, but still found a spring in his step for the rest of the day. It was nice to think he might’ve made her feel a little better.

 ----------

Taglist

@inkovert and @snobbysnekboi

[waitinginthedarke]

He’ll be wrong, for you.

A BTS/Kim Taehyung Fanfiction Summary : What happens when you take on Kim Taehyung…  Type: Mafia!AU (BTS)

********************Prologue*********************

Chapter 1

5 Months ago

‘I told you to go careful around him! If you would have heeded my warning you would have avoided this-‘

‘I got myself out didn’t I? Stop acting as if I caused an inconvenience! He was the one who called the police! …besides, we still need to work out how to get the diamonds from him.’ You snap at Kyuho, agitatedly throwing your jacket onto the large table that separated the two of you in the gang’s den before instantly beginning to pace, ignoring the cries of your feet that had procured blisters after having to run the 10 mile police chase you’d just been put through curtesy of your new enemy; Kim Taehyung. Kyuho’s beady little eyes stuck to you like pinpricks as you forced your mind back to 30 minutes earlier; to the moment Taehyung had dropped on you that he’d been one step ahead of you the whole time.

How? How had he known?

Had you been too obvious? Should you not have leant into him so much? …what if-

‘Y/N!? Are you even listening to me anymore?’ Kyuho snaps at you, his anger barely bringing you out of your reverie as you sigh and begin to walk toward the door that would take you to your apartment within the complex.

‘I think I need a bath…’

The water threatening your lungs as you sunk beneath its surface, was strangely peaceful to your over-crowded brain, the sensation offering a sense of reprieve from the thoughts crashing around inside your head; thoughts all trained in one direction.

Kim Taehyung.

If you were above the water you’d be able to distract yourself with the scents of camomile and lavender that had broken free from the bath bomb you’d used. But instead, with no way to smell anything, your lungs as they slowly began to burn from lack of oxygen, conjured the memory of that dark, intoxicating scent of his, the one you’d been caught in for barely a second, before he’d played you.

Damnit, y/n! Think of something else! Think of guns, or that karate move you used on the new trainee the other day, or puppies, or-

He kind of looked like a puppy…

Water cascades over the sides of the tub as you force your free from its surface, gasping in an angry breath at yourself as you steady your body, staring at your legs through the distorted vision of the water, and pushing yourself up to get out, when the sight simply makes you more angry- conjuring images of them being intertwined with his.

Why the HELL were you having these thoughts?! What was wrong with you? He was just a guy! A bad one at that-

Its as you’re wrapping your robe around yourself and walking through to your bedroom that your thoughts bypass the oppressive negation of the man, to reveal some suggestions as to his relevance as he crawled beneath your skin.

Was it his calm? Was it the way he’d taken an interest in you; the way he’d challenged you with his attention; joined in with your game?

Maybe it was how quiet he’d been; yet how loud the humour was that had glowed from his eyes. Or the way he’d appeared to command the entire room, but had allowed you to think for a moment that you did with the way he’d renounced all eyes to you.

He’d wanted to play your game…

‘Fuck.’

The whispered word slips from your lips as you drop down onto the end of your bed, your exhausted mental state causing you to hang your head momentarily as your body acknowledges the effort you’d put into that evening. Within a few minutes you were falling slowly to the side and curling up on the foot of the mattress, but even as your eyes slide closed, one thought, or rather, one man, continued to haunt your mind.

Kim Taehyung.

Running helped you clear your mind; on the treadmill, in the park,…away from enemies…

Running was the one place you felt most in control, the one thing that you were the best at; that you could beat all others in.

But that morning was different.

When you woke up at 5am each morning, it was with the anticipation of the run, the anticipation of being able to escape by yourself; to push your bodies limits, and to immerse yourself in the wind that would lash at your face and the burn of your legs as your feet pounded the ground.

However, that morning, as you approached the track along the river’s edge which ran near the gang’s complex, all you could see was the shadows dancing in the water under the gleam of the barely there morning light, and the winding curves of the track that anticipated their chance to challenge and trip you up.

Each mile you ticked off became a burden on your limbs and your mind, and you end up cursing at yourself when you stumble to a stop on the cusp of mile 6, unable to keep pounding away at the track with the dizziness being instilled in your mind. You knew you had to get your act together before the start of the day today- since, you had around 3 tasks to write off for Kyuho, and pretty much all of them involved a LOT of focus- but in that moment all you can do is sit on the edge of the path and take a few moments to watch the sun pull its way over the horizon.

Its as you’re casting your eyes over the expensive homes and apartment blocks that sat along the other edge of the water, that you catch sight of something you instantly believe you were imagining.

A-top one of the roof’s toward the south end of the line of buildings you were staring at, was the figure of a man, the glow from the sun forcing him to be cast as a silhouette. However, after spending the night obsessing over a certain face that had been the centre of your attention, there was no way you were going to mistake the jawline that was directed out toward the view.

‘Son of a-‘ you go to say, standing up in your astonishment, your body leaning toward the target of your attention, but you’re quick to remember the water that ran 10ft below your feet, your mind instantly calculating routes that would take you toward the figure fastest. Its just as you’re about to move that you watch his head turn in what could only be your direction, and the image  of that same smirk that he’d gifted you with the night before (no matter how indecipherable it was from that distance), has you raging instantly, just as your phone begins to ring.

‘What is it? I was running-‘ you answer instinctively, assuming it was Kyuho who was calling you. However, you should have been paying more attention to the figure on the roof, who’d lifted his own mobile device to his ear seconds earlier…

…maybe then you would have been one step ahead of him.

‘Actually, I believe you’ve been staring at me for the past 5 minutes, sweetheart. But im sure you already know that.’

His voice sends chills running through your body immediately, the goosebumps that raise across your flesh despite the warmth of your body brought on from your run feeling like pinpricks that narrow your attention back to the man on the roof who was indisputably staring at you in that moment.

‘Your silence is amusing, Y/N. Tell me, how did you end last night? Was it as enjoyable as I assume?’

‘Actually, other than a small cat and mouse chase, It was rather uneventful.’ You snap back, bristling with pride at your ability to gift his sarcasm back to him so quickly, the small smirk that had grown on your lips going unnoticed by yourself as you stare at him stood up on the rooftop, the expanse of the river seemingly non-existent in that moment.

‘Ahh…is that so? …In that case, it would appear there’s more to you than meets the eye.’ He growls from the other end of the line, his silhouette on the rooftop beginning to pace a little, and you become mildly entranced by the way the sun cuts his jawline so sharply, before what he’d said registers in your mind and you feel a small frown building on your forehead.

‘Are you saying you underestimated me? …Clearly you should do more research. People may describe you as the big dog around here-‘

‘Do they?’ he asks, the amusement in his voice having your teeth gritting together, and the rush of blood in your ears quelling as you continue on as if he hadn’t spoken.

‘…Big dogs always have a weakness, Mr Kim.’

‘Are you calling yourself my weakness, sweetheart?’

You hadn’t expected the response; the words spoken so point-blankly that you’re stunned into silence for a few moments as your brain goes down a path that, in your dreams the previous night, had led to you waking up with a thin layer of sweat encompassing your limbs. Its only once you hear his small chuckle on the other end of the phone, obviously from your moment of stasis, that you quickly respond- anger now fully fledged in your veins.

‘If that’s how you want to think of me, Mr Kim, then be my guest. But im afraid that would be a rather foolish mistake on your behalf.’

Turning your back on the water, its just as you go to hang up and begin the run back to the compound, that his unsettling answer echoes down the phone, forcing you to pause and look behind you once more-

‘I’d rather see it as a challenge, Y/N. …I do so love a challenge.

-only to observe the fully risen sun, shining down on an empty rooftop.

‘Okay, remember what we discussed; you go with the plan; don’t stray from the steps we laid out…okay? …y/n? Y/N!?’

‘Yeah, sure, whatever you say.’ You mumble inconspicuously to yourself as you sit in the corner booth of the club you found yourself in that evening, completing your final task for the day; seducing a middle-aged fraudster and retrieving the money Kyuho had lost in a gamble with him, in which he’d suspiciously lost 10 million dollars.

‘Y/N, I mean it! I don’t want a repeat of last night.’ The man himself hisses in your ear, the way he brings up the previous evening’s antics causing your hand to fist on the stem of your wine glass, and you’re milliseconds from fracturing it, when the target of your attention for the evening walks through the door.

‘He’s here.’ Is all you say in response, before you assume a nonchalant position in the booth; legs crossed so that the hem of your dress rides up your thigh slightly, elbows leant on the table and your cheek propped in your hand, an innocently bored expression on your face as you swirl the wine around your glass.

‘Okay, give it 10 minutes and if he hasn’t approached-‘

‘I’ll turn you off if you don’t stop repeating things I already know.’ You warn Kyuho through tight lips, watching the movements of the guy in the reflection of your wine glass and restraining the urge to smirk when you see him recline into a booth diagonally to your own,  observing the stare he fixes on you.

‘You’re lucky you’re my best man. Otherwise I’d sanction you for that mouth.’ Your boss snipes in your ear, making your lip curl in amusement as you take a moment to think about the large margin of room every newbie he’d hired for the past year had given you when they’d seen you at the complex, the response only working to inflate your ego more and more as time had gone on.

‘I’m a woman, Kyuho. Never forget that.’ You mutter back in response, dragging in a deep breath and fixing an even more put out expression on your face as you take a sip of wine before continuing to pout at your glass.

You bite back your satisfied smile when you catch site of your target standing from his table and beginning to approach you a little while later, forcing yourself to remain unmoving and just as moody as you had been, before acting innocently surprised when his black slacks appear beside you.

‘Excuse me, I couldn’t help but see how lonely you appeared over here by yourself…may I join you?’

An hour later and you were beginning to grow weary of the way this guy was leering all over you; continuing to comment on how fragile and defenseless you seemed, and how he could ‘protect you’ should you wish it. The number of times you came close to socking him in the face should have earned you a medal for your restraint, yet by the time you’d convinced him to return to your ‘house’ with you- rather than his- you were more than happy to lead him out the front door of the bar and down the back alley that was coalesced in shadows.

The feeling of unease that ran up your back should have clued you in to his presence.

‘Are you sure you wouldn’t rather have me drive you, beautiful?’ the sleezeball asks you, the slight hint of nervousness in his tone making you smirk as you continue to lead him deeper down the black street, hand clasped firmly around his making escape impossible for him.

‘Beautiful, I really think we should take the car-‘ he continues to urge you, pulling at your arm this time, and you cant help but roll your eyes at his menial sense of worry, catching sight of a perfect corner of the alley where you’d be out of sight of prying eyes, and continuing to guide him toward it as he proceeds to up his protests.

‘Honestly, I think we should turn back, Beautiful.’

‘Beautiful, I really think you’ve taken a wrong turn. Do you even know where we are-‘

Before you can even give him a chance to realize his mistake, you’re dropping the innocent façade and turning on him, whipping around and slamming your hand to his throat, just tight enough to restrict his airflow, and cause him to panic, the expression on his face causing the amusement to rise within you as you stare up at the man, allowing him to see the truth behind the lonely mask you’d been wearing all evening; to see the potential for murder in your expression...

‘Have you never heard the phrase, don’t play with your food, Sweetheart?’

The second it takes for you to register that the words hadn’t come from the mouth of the man before you, opens up an opportunity for the guy before you to attempt to disarm and maim you; an action that could only receive one response.

‘FUCK.’

‘If that’s what you want, sweetheart, you simply have to ask nicely.’

The sentence forces a growl from between your teeth, and, forcing yourself to look away from the snapped neck of the asshole that now lay dead at your feet, you turn to meet the cocky gaze of the man who’d haunted your every thought since the moment you first laid eyes on him.

‘Hello, Y/N. …I see you’ve been having a… productive …evening.’

Kim Taehyung.

Present Day

‘Y/N…y/n, sweetheart…wake up.’

Pushing down the instinctive urge to snap groggily at him as you hear the soft, caring tone of his voice- quite unlike the one all that time ago, the second you open your eyes, you’re quick to heed his advice; shuffling upright and instantly apologizing to him when you accidentally cause the hand cuffs on his end of the chain to bite into his wrists with the action.

The set up had changed from the day before; Taehyung and your sheepish attempt at testing the limits of your captors ending in you being put into separate cells with thick bars to keep you apart, with one chain holding you both in place; that chain connecting you to one another via your handcuffs.

‘Its almost dinner. They should be in soon,…remember-‘

‘I know, Tae; look for weakpoints; look for…’ you cut your automatic response off with a yawn, frowning at how tired you felt and trying to shake the sleep weighing down your body, knowing it was only brought on by the lack of nutrients your body was taking in compared to your usual high protein diet.

‘Y/N…are you-‘

‘I’m fine, Tae.’ You quickly stop him, finally turning your head to look behind yourself through the bars that you’d been leant against, instinctively smiling softly when you see his innocent, and concerned, expression staring back at you, where he’d presumably been watching you whilst you slept to check that no harm came your way. The small curl of his lips that answers your expression instantly has your chest feeling lighter and your brain functioning easier, the subtle look of adoration that had been missing from him as of late, reassuring you that you were both still on the same page.

‘Do you want to know what I was just dreaming about?’ you murmur after shuffling to lean back against the bars once more, this time facing him so that your cheeks were squished against the cold metal, but the act made him smirk at your playfulness nonetheless, and so you know it was worth it.

‘Did it involve me?’ he asks jokingly, curling his lip in that way of his that simultaneously made him look like the prince charming of the story as well as the villain; his eyes peering out at you from beneath his brows causing your body to roll with tremors.

‘Of course it did.’ You smirk, biting your lip for effect, and giggling when he pushes himself onto his knees so that he could crawl closer to you, the thick double bars keeping you apart annoying you, but you continue to grin at him as he comes to a stop across from you, assuming the same ‘face between the bars’ position that you’d adopted and smirking right back at you, completely forgetting about the potential for company to arrive and giving you the entirety of his attention.

‘Tell me more.’

(T.B.C)

[letsdiscoverkitty]

Session 18.04.17

I had a session with S this morning (due to bank holiday Monday my appointment was shifted to today) and it was actually really helpful.

I went in feeling quite anxious/was stressing out over numbers and what to talk about but he helped to ground me and focus on the things that need to be focused on right now. My weight was up, and I am sat here in costa trying to remind myself that weight gain IS the goal and that it is not out of control and does not mean that I can now “slack off”. It was less than last time so it means that I do need to keep up with the meal plan changes. As for other physical bits my temperature was quite low and I had a pastoral drop but I haven’t been feeling dizzy or anything so it might have just been one of those things. 

Anyway, we spent the majority of the session talking about the two mind-maps that he had asked me to work on in the lead up to this appointment. I must admit that I am finding the weight gain hard to deal with now, mainly as it is getting a bit more noticeable (of course half a stone is going to start showing). But he was really supportive and said how PROUD he was of me for managing to turn things around and he said that he knows things are still hard but I should give myself some credit for having worked so hard and for still plugging away at what I know I need to do. He is not one to usually say things like this so it really did mean a lot to hear.

Okay, back to the mind-maps....the first one is about ED behaviours/food stuff and the second “life/anxiety” both with the focus of “what needs to be addressed to make University more possible come September”. We ended up focusing on a few of the areas and talking through them/how to tackle them and how they will enable me to do other things...

Weighing myself. S believes this is a key area that is really important to focus on. I have, in the past, gone a week without weighing myself but then slipped back into the obsessive weighing, so we have made a goal for the next few weeks to only weigh myself on a Monday and to put the scale away between then. He was really impressed that I managed to not weigh myself for a week and we talked through the things that it had “taught” me and how it had felt (the first few days were ‘okay’ but then my mind started to run away with me come the latter end of the week). In the end the behavioural experiment taught me that I cannot always trust my own mind/judgement in terms of my weight/size and that my head will tend to overestimate. Not only that but by not weighing myself I did not gain an “out of control” amount, it did not make me any less of a human being and I my world did not explode. I need to keep practicing this and continue with the behavioural experiment as it is not going to just “go away” by not weighing myself for one week. 

Weighing foods - again, like the weighing myself, I need to keep practicing this and not going back to ‘safety’ after a period of challenging it. Don’t get me wrong I am doing SO much better in this area than I was but we talked through a few areas that I need to work on and how I can go about it and building up to not having to weigh foods. Talking through this logically really helped and I feel a bit more focused on this area than I did (I think I was getting a bit stuck in this area/anorexia has been getting comfy as a lot of things are still weighed and calculated).

Independence/social areas - he is always banging on about this area so I have agreed to look into whether there are any social things in the area that I might go to try out to meet people/try something different...

Neuroplasticity - we had an interesting little discussion about neuroplasticity at the end of the session, and how anorexia makes your thinking very rigid/inflexible and thus makes any change really difficult. (it is a symptom of malnourishment) He said that it is not always about changing everything/doing massive big things, but that each day it is important to challenge those rigid behaviours/patterns no matter what they are, so things like making your bed a different way, driving a different route, using a different plate, sitting in a different chair; any change can make a huge difference no matter how “small” it may feel (they all add up). And like he said, life is so much more exciting/enjoyable outside of the rigid walls of anorexia. 

I did mention the tiredness and things, it was reassuring to hear what I knew: that my body is tired and that it is okay to rest and that this is what it needs. I have put my body through a lot and I am going to feel physically and mentally exhausted but that that is OKAY. Because it is. 

As for our next appointment, due to another bank holiday falling in 2 weeks time I am actually not seeing him for a month, which is kind of scary but kind of good (?). He couldn’t reschedule like he did for today’s appointment, and I will actually be with my parents in Cornwall in two weeks time at our time-share, so it has to be a 4 week gap. He has asked me to text him in 2 weeks time about where things are weight wise, and that if I need to call I can. 

I was really worried about this mornings appointment, stressing out over numbers and what to talk about but I came away feeling much better for it? He really helped with talking through the whole weighing foods and setting a few goals and yeah it felt okay. Im not going to lie things have been hard but I am plodding on and now seeing today as a new slate and am pushing forwards no matter what. I have had my cappuccino in Costa and now plan on heading to tesco before heading home for a quiet afternoon.