#still got a few more on pending but for now I have to work on other things for valentine's day 🫡����

[beeholyshit]

I never properly said how they met so...

[seresinhangmanjake]

Come Back Together

Benny Cross x reader 

Summary in bullet points:

Now that Benny is back in your life, he is trying to be a better husband

Benny is insecure about his relationship and a barfight ensues

Reader is pregnant (three months)

Benny does a bit of pining and is emotionally vulnerable

Fluffiness 

Part 2 of Come Back Knockin’

Notes/Warnings: *Spoiler free*, angst and fluff, relationship struggles, physical altercations (fist fight), mention of blood and injury, mention of pregnancy, mention of alcohol, cursing, kissing, happy stuff, typos. I think that’s it. This took me forever to write for some reason and I was weirdly stressed about it. tf is wrong with me, right? Anyway…

Words: alright no one freak out…it’s 4300. Idk why it’s a lot longer than the first part but I always do that. If you’re willing to venture onward, I appreciate it :)

Benny Cross Masterlist

Part 3: Together and More

He stares at you incessantly. Which isn’t out of the ordinary—he used to stare at you all the time—but there’s something else to it now. He stares as if he thinks you’ll disappear the second he takes his eyes off of you. Like you'll slip through his fingers. Ironic, really, since disappearing in the blink of an eye is more his thing. 

“Can I make you something?” he asks, staring at you from his chair while you pull a carton of eggs from the fridge. “You should be sitting instead of me.”

“You don’t know how to cook, Benny,” you state matter-of-factly, turning your back to him as you switch on the stove and set a pan on the lit burner.

Cooking has always been your responsibility. It was one of the things you brought to this relationship. And you liked being the one to keep Benny fed, never chiming in when the other Vandals’ wives and girlfriends mentioned how exhausting it was to satisfy their man’s grumbling stomach. You liked that Benny appreciated you for it. 

Now you wonder if subconsciously you believed that as long as you fed him, he’d stay by your side, regardless of his wild nature. Kind of like a puppy. But Benny Cross is no puppy.

“I should probably learn,” he says. “You know, for the kid.”

You hum, cracking an egg on the edge of the pan. “Maybe you should stick to learning how not to ditch your family,” you retort, and immediately your features twist in a wince.

You can’t believe you let those words out of your mouth. You’d been doing so well at holding in the little jabs and remarks, no matter how hard they’ve pushed at your sealed lips. Not to say a few of them haven’t slipped through in the last month, they have, but each time they did, you received instant punishment in the form of Benny’s heart crumbling right before your eyes.

He’s never tried to make you feel guilty about your slip-ups, but he can’t seem to hide his expressions around you anymore. Ever since Benny returned, he’s been different. Your husband who was once so stoic has untethered his emotions from the piece inside of him that, for years, refused to let them show. His affection is more outward now, but unfortunately, so is his pain. So you made a rule to stop doing that to him; stop catching him off guard with words of hurt during a time of pending forgiveness. What he did was damaging, yes, but it’s unfair to pick at him when he’s been doing everything he can to show you he has value to this family; things he never would have done before. 

He wakes earlier than you to clean the most-used areas of the house—a poorly done job; you still find dust in spaces dust should have easily been wiped up, but he tries. He found work at a mechanic’s shop not too far from the house, and surprisingly, he has yet to complain about it—a decent job was always something he physically and mentally shunned. He got rid of everything in the spare room and has begun painting the walls from the deep brown left over from the prior owners to a soft, light green that matches the baby blanket he brought you. It’s cute, and significantly better than you would have done without him. You would’ve been too stressed to put together a nice nursery.

Benny awkwardly clears his throat, breaking up your thoughts and bringing you back to the present. The lingering discomfort from your snide tone is palpable, heavy, just short of physically formed, and you can’t escape it. 

“I didn’t mean that,” you tell him as you flip the egg. 

The sizzle in the pan is louder as uncooked egg hits the heat, but you can still hear his deep breath, easily picturing the weak smile on his face when he softly says, “It’s ok. I deserve it.”

You’re about to protest, but he doesn’t give you the chance. 

“I was thinkin’ about goin’ to a meeting tonight,” Benny says. “You wanna come with me?”

“I don’t know if that’s a good idea.”

“Oh…” he says, dejected. “It's been a while since you've been to one. I know you stopped goin’ when I was…away, so I thought…”

You set the spatula down and turn to face him, crossing your arms. “I wasn’t going to go without you. And considering everything, everyone just would have pitied me. I'm sure they still do.”

His blue eyes fall to the tiled floor. You know he hates that such a thought would enter your mind, but it’s not as if you’re capable of stopping it. He put you in a pitiful situation, and were the circumstances placed upon another woman, you would have felt those same feelings for her. 

“No one pities you, baby. I promise,” he says. “They miss you.” His head lifts so he can meet your stare. “But if you don’t want to go then I'll stay here with you. We can watch a movie or somethin’.”

Your eyes widen. “No!” you yelp. Benny’s head jerks back at the sudden outburst and you swallow to buy yourself time to sort your thoughts into words, but the best you come up with is: “You’re right, actually. We should go.”

“But you just–” His brow raises in skepticism. “Are you sure?”

If your options are club meeting surrounded by a large group of people or movie-watching with you and Benny alone, then yes, you are absolutely sure. The movie channels have rallied against you lately. Out of the five times you and Benny have watched a film since he came back, all five have been romances. All of them!

You don’t know if he scours the TV Guide without you noticing or if the television channels have simply rallied against you, but sitting beside your husband who you are trying not to give in to is made all the more difficult when watching Audrey Hepburn fall in love with George Peppard or Cary Grant or Greggory Peck for God's sake. You see them and it makes you forget things. You forget that you’re as upset as you are, and with Benny so close, your heart starts to pound and you can’t focus on anything else. You want to crawl right into his arms, let him hold you and kiss you and take you on the couch after what has felt like an eternity apart. But you can’t do that. It’s too soon. So no movies. 

“Positive,” you nod. 

An easy smile slides onto his face. “Well that’s great, baby. It'll be fun.”

“Yea. Sure.”

“Alright,” he says, standing. “I gotta get to the shop.”

He pauses as he passes by you, and you hold his gaze as he squashes the instinct to press his lips to your forehead. 

You weren’t married to Benny for long before he panicked and left—only a handful of months—but it was long enough for the two of you to develop your own set of rituals. And by the consistency and ease with which Benny performed those rituals, anyone would have assumed they’d been in place for decades. 

A kiss on the forehead after breakfast was one ritual. As was the bedtime cuddling with your leg slotted between his. And the way he’d stare at you in the mirror, his arms crossed and body leaning against the doorframe as he watched you brush your teeth with a grin on his face. 

But the one you miss the most is the hug from behind that you'd receive once he’d decided to come home for the night. He’d circle his arms around your waist and place a kiss on your neck, and then he’d chuckle because he was so determined to sneak up on you and give you a little scare but was never successful. You could feel him before he touched you, you could smell his cologne, but you didn’t want to ruin his fun, so you let him have hope that one day he would finally surprise you. 

Benny blows out a long breath through his nose. “I’ll see you tonight,” he mutters with a brief hint of a smile.

As the front door closes behind him, a carbon smell grabs your attention and you look over your shoulder at your breakfast. It’s charred, inedible, and you don’t even care, you just knock the pan off to the side to keep the house from burning down.

—

“Well, thank the lord,” Betty’s voice travels across the bar as she and Kathy approach you and Benny. “We weren’t sure we’d ever see you again, honey.”

Kathy draws you into a tight hug that rips you from Benny’s side. “Things have not been the same with you gone,” she says as she leans back, rubbing her hands up and down your arms. She smiles so sweetly and you breathe a sigh of relief. These women were your friends and you feel guilty for abandoning them just because Benny abandoned you. “Come sit.”

“Benny Cross, we are stealin’ your wife,” Betty declares, “And you don't get to whine about it.” There’s a dash of vitriol in her tone that nibbles at your gut and you hope it’s simply an effect of the alcohol she must’ve had prior to your arrival. 

“Oh,” Benny says. You glance at him, at the disappointed look on his face—subtle, but there. He wanted you by his side tonight, but he’s not going to force you to deny their offer. “Ok.”

Kathy and Betty each take one of your hands and lead you to a small rounded table. It’s the centerpiece of the room, and as one of three surrounding it, so are you, unfortunately. As Betty sticks a cigarette in her mouth and Kathy takes a sip of her beer, your eyes scan the low-lit space. 

Stares from the men lining the walls burn your cheeks. You recognize only half of them—the Vets, as they’re known—and they give you their smiles and nods in a ‘welcome back’ gesture, Johnny, in particular, sporting a rare grin.

The others—the Newcomers; out-of-towners who came specifically to join the club—look at you with something else in their eyes. Amusement? Curiosity? They seem to know exactly who you are and enjoy a little too much putting a face to the name. You, however, don’t know a single one of them. They’d arrived shortly before Benny left, and while some faces, those with distinct features, you can recall from nuggets of your memory, you’ve never spoken to them. You never got their names. 

“Why this table?” you ask your friends.

“Best view of the pool table, obviously,” Betty chuckles after snapping Johnny’s lighter shut. She nudges her head in that direction. “Nothin’ wrong with lookin’, I say.”

Flanking the table are Cal, Wahoo, and Benny; Wahoo watching and chattering from the sidelines as Cal and Benny alternate between shots.

Benny edges from one side of the table to the other, sizing up his options. Then, cue in hand, cigarette dangling from his lips, he bends at the waist and lines up the shot. 

He’s so stupidly beautiful. The lamp hanging above the table illuminates him, defining his muscles by highlighting the hills and casting the valleys into shadow. A haze of smoke coats your view, but his pure essence and magnetism break through it like rays of sun through parted clouds. 

Benny’s eyes flick up to yours and he winks as he shoots, driving two balls directly into their nets. 

Your mouth goes dry. You swallow sandpaper, leaving your throat all raw and scratchy.

“So, how’ve you been, honey?” Betty asks, and you turn your head. “How've you been feelin’? How’s that nausea?”

“Yea,” Kathy adds, leaning in close as if seeking out a secret, “and how’s it been goin’ with him? Any trouble?”

“Um, I'm fine,” you say, tucking a few stray strands of hair behind your ear. “Nausea’s manageable. 

As far as Benny goes, there's no trouble,” you tell them, “It’s just–” You pause. 

What can you say? That you haven’t fully forgiven him even though he’s working so hard to be a good husband? That some of the things he’s doing around the house are swoon-worthy compared to what most men you know would do but you’re too stubborn to express the depth of your appreciation? Any woman would look at you like you’re insane. 

When you think about it like that, maybe you are insane. 

“I don't know,” you say with a shrug and a shake of your head. “It's hard to explain.”

“Well, according to Johnny, Benny’s worried each day in the house will be his last,” Betty says, blowing a stream of smoke off to the side. “That boy’s so afraid he’s gonna mess up and let you down again that I'm surprised he hasn't lost his marbles. I read in Life that bein’ that anxious wreaks havoc on the body and mind.”

Betty’s always reading something in Life, and a good portion of the time you are hesitant to take her seriously. Not necessarily because you don’t trust what the magazine reports, but that Betty tends to exaggerate for kicks. 

You have a feeling she’s not exaggerating this time.

Your face falls. 

“Don’t you feel bad about it for one second,” Kathy scolds, placing her hand on top of yours. “You’re well within your rights to make him earn his place.”

“I know, but I don’t want him to be scared that I'm going to–”

You’re cut off by a male voice slipping through a brief lull in the cacophony of noise.

“If she don’t want Benny no more, she can bring her sweet ass right on over to me,” a Newcomer says in a slurring mess. “I’d sure take better care of her than he did.”

Every soul in the room falls deadly silent—the only remaining sound being the melody of Elvis's Baby Let's Play House from the jukebox—and the world around you freezes.

Cigarettes are held over ashtrays, their ashes yet to be knocked off. Beer bottles are raised to lips without the satisfaction of a sip. The bartender’s rag has only wiped up half of a drunken man’s spill. No one is breathing and everyone’s eyes are glued to either the Newcomer or your husband. Yours are on Newcomer, watching his features shift and tick as he soaks in the weight of what he just said, and what it’s about to cost him. 

Kathy sighs. “Oh, god.” 

The whole bar hears her—impossible not to; you could hear a mouse skitter across the floor—and her words seem to carry with them the wave of a green flag, because a moment later, Benny rushes the guy and tackles him to the ground. 

Chaos erupts. All at once, shouts, curses, and hateful name-calling explode like the impact of a bomb. Nearly every man in the club is taking sides in the war between Newcomers and Vets. Fists fly into faces. Faces are shoved against walls. Walls are cracked from bodies slamming into them. There’s the distinct sound of bone meeting bone. Blood splatters across your table.

“Jesus, fellas!” Kathy snaps as she and Betty hop up, dragging you out of the danger zone. 

In a panic, your head whips in all directions. You can’t find Benny, but you need to find him and you need to find him now. 

You’ve seen him throw punches at races and members’ houses but this is too public a space, and if the cops are called, he can’t be caught fighting again. Nor can he risk having fingers pointed his way for instigating. He already has a record, and though you didn’t know him during his few stints behind bars, you know he has exhausted the sheriff's leniency. If you leave now, Johnny will come up with something to excise Benny’s participation should questions arise. 

You take a step forward but Kathy’s grip is tight. “Where do you think you’re goin’?” she shouts.

“To get my husband.”

Betty gapes. “Are you crazy? You're pregnant!” But you ignore her, shaking Kathy off and heading into the storm. “Johnny! Johnny, grab her!”

You weave through fight after fight, stopping short when a body lands at your feet, but he’s up and out of your way in an instant, and you continue dodging and ducking until you spot a blond head. From what you can see, there’s hardly a scratch on him. The same cannot be said for the drunk guy beneath him. 

Before you can move another inch, an arm circles your waist and jerks you back. 

“Hey!” you snap. “Let go!”

“Not a chance, sweetheart. You stay out of it,” Johnny says, lifting you off the ground and setting you down in a safer area. He puts his hands on your shoulders and dips his head to your eye level, locking on to your gaze. “I’ll get ‘im, ok? I’ll get ‘im. Stay right here.”

You nod in agreement, your brows knitted and teeth chewing on your bottom lip. 

From this location, you have a better view of your husband and the friend who is trying and failing to break up the fight. Johnny yanking on Benny’s dominant arm is not enough to stop the attacks. Neither is the forearm locked around his neck. 

When Cal notices Johnny’s struggle, he pushes his opponent into a table and races over to take hold of Benny’s other bicep. Together they pull him off the man whose face no longer resembles a human’s. It’s a bloody mess. His nose is dented in, eyes swollen shut, lips split and mouth hanging open to reveal an empty space where a tooth used to be. 

Benny’s chest heaves. Murder is in his glare. He jerks against his restraints but struggles to break free with the force of two men weighing him to the ground. 

Then Johnny mutters something in Benny’s ear that immediately halts his thrashing. His breathing slows. The fire fades from his irises, returning them to their soft cerulean, and his eyes tear away from the beaten man to dart around the room in search of you. 

As Benny spots you, Johnny's lips move, seemingly forming the words ‘Get outta here,’ before he pats Benny on the chest and lets him rise to his feet. 

Benny comes to you and without stopping grasps your hand and leads you out of the bar.

— 

“You think you fractured anything?” You ask as you slide the key into the lock and turn.

Benny stretches and flexes his fingers. “No,” he answers, trailing into the house behind you and shutting the front door. “Are you upset with me?” 

He’s been wanting to ask that question since you left the bar. As he'd placed the helmet on your head and clipped the strap under your chin, you'd observed his lips, how they were parting as if to speak but unable to get anything out. And when he'd helped you off the bike in front of the house, his expression was far away, his jaw shifting, teeth clenching—the look of your husband in intense thought. 

At least he finally spit it out. Normally, he would have run his fingers through his hair and sighed, opting not to bother you with the question; a behavior that used to drive you crazy. It took weeks after you met for you to accept that while Benny was willing to share a lot with you—things he didn’t intend to share with anyone; a life, for instance—there were things best not to pester him into revealing. 

So you’re a patient partner. If it needs to be said or asked, it’ll be said or asked. And you're glad he decided this was one question that needed to be asked.

You sigh, hanging your jacket on the rack, and Benny follows, selecting the hook closest to yours. 

“I mean, you nearly killed him,” you say as you make your way to the back of the living room and open the closet that houses the first aid kit. 

On tippy toes, you can barely brush your fingers along the metal tin, and you grumble each time you unintentionally push it a little further back on the shelf.

A muscled arm reaches above your head to grab the kit. Benny places it in your hands before stepping back into the seating area and dropping down onto the footstool, his standard perch when you’re fixing him up. 

Blue eyes are glued to your body as you take a seat on the couch. 

You pull the lid off of the tin and riffle through it for the small bottle of alcohol—you’ll have to buy more soon, it’s getting low—and a clean rag. With the alcohol-soaked fabric at the ready, you slip your fingers under his warm palm, bring his hand close, and get to work dabbing the wounds and wiping off some of the dried blood. He doesn’t so much as hiss at the shot of pain that makes any other human groan and pinch their eyes tight.

“He was out of line,” he tells you.

“I’m not saying he wasn’t out of line, but I really don't need you getting in trouble and being taken away from me, Benny.” You’re focused on his injury, but out of the corner of your eye, he winces in shame. “Besides, he was just mouthing off.”

“Mouthin’ off about my wife.”

With a huff, you drop your joined hands onto your lap and shoot him a look. “I know, but do you honestly believe what he said could ever happen? Do you think I would leave you for some other man?”

You ask with the full expectation of a whip-quick reply—‘of course not, baby’—but Benny adam’s apple bobs, and his teeth clench as his eyes flit to the undoubtedly less interesting carpet.

“Benny…?”

He runs his uninjured hand down his face and looks up at you. “C'mon, baby, it's not that wild of a thought. Not after what I did to you,” he says, his thumb slowly running over your knuckles. “You are so much better than anything I should be allowed to have. But me? You could throw a rock in any direction and you'd hit a man better than me. One that wouldn’t have panicked and left you pregnant and alone for six weeks.”          

You shake your head. “That’s not true.”   

“It is true.”

“It is not, and even if it was, I don't want another man,” you confess. A beat passes as you exhale heavily to stave off the stinging of oncoming tears. “It hurts that you left, but I am working through it, we are working through it, ok? You’re not going to lose me, Benny Cross. Not unless you leave me.”

“I'm never leavin’ you,” he says. 

You place your free hand on his cheek. “Then you’re never losing me.”

Benny swallows hard and scans your face—each and every feature—lingering on your lips before meeting your eyes. As your thumb strokes his cheekbone, he wraps his fingers around your wrist, turns his head, and presses a kiss to your palm. 

“Baby, I miss you so much,” he mutters, his brows pinched in anguish. “I miss touchin’ you. I miss holdin’ you. I miss sleepin’ next to you.” He lightly shakes his head. “I know I don’t deserve you, and I sure as hell don’t deserve our baby, but I fuckin’ miss you.”

The unit that is your heart and body and soul feels as if it’s being cleaved in two. This isn’t what the past month of your lives was meant to be about. It was supposed to be about building trust, not dishing out punishment. And yes, you’ve messed up before, said things that weren’t fair, but keeping him at arm's length is more than that. It’s a deeper pain. Stronger. More potent. Not just for him, but for you as well, and now you can’t quite see the point anymore. Staying away from his touch does not help anything if what you want at the end of the day is to be together. And that is what you want. 

When you touch your lips to his for the first time in almost three months, you whimper. You whimper and you melt and the tears want to come back because it’s so much easier to resist desire when you haven’t entertained it in a while. But now you’ve given in. You’re tasting him like you used to, tasting the remnants of gin and cigarettes and the blueberry pie you made for dessert, and it’s all Benny. Benny, who is so shocked that you’ve kissed him that it takes a handful of seconds before he kisses you back and becomes the Benny you know. And then he’s curling his arm around your waist and pulling you into his lap, and his hands are everywhere. Squeezing your thighs, sliding over your ass, tracing up your spine, holding the back of your neck to guide you closer so he can kiss you harder, and yea, you are never depriving yourself of your husband again.

Benny stands, taking you with him, supporting your weight as he keeps kissing you and you keep kissing him. He blindly turns and settles into the comfort of the couch with your legs on either side of his hips. 

You lean back, breaking the connection of your lips. “Benny.”

He’s staring at you like you’re hypnotic, mesmerizing. Like he’s drunk on kisses. His fingers trace the curvature of your face. A thumb ghosts over the swollen pillows of your mouth. 

“Yea, baby,” he says, voice gravelly, just above a whisper.

“Do you want to be back in our bed?”

Benny stiffens and he blinks away that glazed-over expression. “You mean it?” He asks. You nod. 

“Are you gonna be in the bed too?” he says, sifting his fingers through your hair. “We're not just swappin’, are we?”

You smile. “No, we aren't swapping,” you promise him, your forehead falling against his. “I'm making room.”

---

A/N: I kind of want to do a time jump Part 3 with lots of Dad!Benny stuff. Let me know if you’d be interested in reading that. Thanks :)

Taglist (if you wanna join)

[livingformintyoongi]

Cross The Line | Jeon Jungkook

a/n: This is a little idea I had since I published Echoes of love and as the rest of my pending projects are too long to publish them soon, I brought this as a way to cover my absence :) You can request some scenery for this drabble series through my inbox! Summary: After years of working with Jungkook, your insecurity about your feelings for him begins to grow and become more complex, bringing you to the point where you wonder if you can really keep fooling yourself or if it's time to face those feelings. Pairing: Boss!Reader x Secretary!Jungkook WC: 3.8k Taglist: @thunderg @minjianhyung @queenv1997 @yoongtism @lizzymizzy-blogg @superbbananananana @drpepperobsessed @themwordsblog @taekritimin123 @bluecloudss @yooglefics Dividers by @cafekitsune

“Is this the last thing on today's agenda?” you murmured, continuing your way to your office. Each step you took was followed by the soft, firm sound of your heels tapping against the floor. Today, you were wearing wine-colored ones, which matched perfectly with your lipstick and shirt in the same shade.

Red was the color you wore when you were about to fire someone or, in worse circumstances, when you were about to end up in an argument with one of your siblings. This time, the correct answer was the second one. You were the second oldest of four siblings, and, well, when your family was as chaotic as yours, you had to take charge of the problems, even if that meant putting your own image at risk.

You hated your life in this sense.

“Yes, boss,” Jungkook replied cheerfully.

Ah, your little—not so little—secretary, Jungkook. To be honest, you hired him because you were desperate to find a secretary as quickly as possible, something that, although it sounded easy, was actually really complicated.

You were a pretty cruel, strict, and direct person. You scared away your workers in less than a month (in fact, the same year you hired Jungkook, you'd already had three other secretaries—three!). Jungkook was your lifesaver. He had just come out of his last job, had a resume that sounded too flattering to be true, and had graduated with honors. You thought he would last only a few months, just like all the others, and you thought you could take full advantage of that time. The surprise came when five months passed and he was still working for you without a single complaint.

Now, it had been a total of four and a half years working together as boss and employee. He had lasted even longer than any relationship you’d ever had—it was officially your longest relationship! Though it wasn’t like you were proud of that.

“After the meeting with your brother, you had a dinner with your family, but it got canceled at the last minute,” Jungkook’s steps quickened as yours grew more impatient and longer. “Oh, and, um, tonight I was planning to have a small party at my apartment for my 27th birthday… in case you’d like, you know, to attend,” he murmured, his tone softer and less playful.

Yes, you might’ve forgotten that little detail. He was hopelessly in love with you, strange, right?

The first time you realized, you almost made him cry because of the horrified look you gave him. Not that the idea grossed you out, but, to be completely honest, you had been torturing him since he started working. You’d call him to work on his days off, ask him to run errands on weekends, force him to stay late to finish your extra work, and you even had to spend three consecutive Christmases together due to the lack of staff that year.

He was an extremely sweet guy, a guy who loved banana milk, Hello Kitty plushies, and fantasy and romance books—you discovered this when you saw him reading The Lunar Chronicles during his lunch break—and then there was you… someone who loved her coffee extremely strong, hated plushies and how ridiculously large they could be, and preferred to read more informational books than fantasy ones.

“Are you celebrating your birthday today?” you said with a disinterested tone, slowing your steps as you approached Soomin’s office, your star employee and—unfortunately—the girlfriend of Taehyung. Your office was under renovation and you couldn’t use it until next week, so you had been using Soomin’s office during this time.

“Yes! I wanted to do it last week, but you were too busy, and I really wanted you to come, but that doesn’t mean you have to if you don’t want to! I understand it’s been a busy week, and even if it hasn’t, you don’t have to come because we’re just coworkers and—”

“I think I got it, Jungkook,” you chuckled quietly, feeling a warmth in your chest at how easy it was to make the young man nervous beside you. You hadn’t even opened your mouth, and he was already rambling like crazy, wasn’t it adorable?

“Oh, yeah, sure…” he muttered as his cheeks heated up and turned red. It was incredibly easy to make him nervous, and you loved making him nervous. Not that you liked it, just... it was cute to see.

You stopped in front of Soomin’s office door, opening it to be greeted by the very unpleasant sight of your older brother sitting in the chair in front of the desk. You rolled your eyes and entered reluctantly, waiting for Jungkook to follow you and close the door behind him.

“Finally, you’re here. I thought I was going to die waiting for you,” Junmyeon got up from the chair, slipping both hands into his designer pants pockets. Your wild side screamed for you to grab the ink from Soomin’s desk and spill it on him, but you weren’t in the mood for family fights. “Good afternoon, Jungkook.”

“Good afternoon,” Jungkook responded in a much deeper and more serious tone than the one he used to speak to you.

One thing you loved about your secretary was how incredibly loyal he was to you. Your brother had tried to offer him a job hundreds of times, putting ridiculously high salaries for a secretary on the table; he turned them all down without thinking.

You’d be lying if you said that didn’t make your heart race a little. Just a little.

“Alright, you have five minutes to tell me what mess you’ve gotten into now. If you’re back in trouble with your girlfriend, then start forgetting about my help. I don’t want any more love problems.”

You still remembered the poor girl who had the terrible luck of dating your brother. You had found him with another girl at a bar near his work, and you were furious enough to go to him and pull a good chunk of hair from the not-so-poor girl.

It was a pity, she was actually someone you liked, made you laugh at every family dinner, and could cook delicious dishes. Plus, she was ridiculously beautiful, and you weren’t even sure what she was doing with your brother.

“It’s nothing serious, I just came here to ask you for a favor,” he said, stepping closer to you but instantly halting as he noticed Jungkook stopping right by his side, his eyes glued to every move he made. Jungkook could be as sweet as sugar most of the time, but he really seemed to raise all his alarms whenever your brother—or any man for that matter—got too close to you.

“There’s an investor I want to get in touch with, but he insisted he’d only speak to me if I arranged a dinner with you.”

“Then he can keep waiting. I’m not going,” you said, turning around, ready to head back home and do anything that didn’t involve spending more time with this idiot. Maybe you’d drop by Taehyung’s place and bother him for a while; he owed you after everything you’d done for him this year.

“Oh, come on, it’s just a dinner. I’m not asking you to sleep with him,” he pressed, reaching out to grab your wrist. His hand was quickly intercepted by Jungkook, who stepped between the two of you and grabbed Junmyeon’s arm with enough strength to give him a little scare."

“She said no, now, please, stop insisting and get lost,” Jungkook said in a calm but firm tone. Both you and your brother shuddered slightly at the tone of his voice, but for completely different reasons.

“Let it go, Jungkook, it’s not worth it,” you placed your hand on his arm, smiling inwardly as you saw how his whole body relaxed at your touch. Why did he have to be so sweet? “I won’t do it, no matter how much you insist. Make sure you leave the door closed when you leave.”

And with that, you left the office, feeling Jungkook’s soft footsteps following you behind. Hearing them calmed you a little more. Maybe, it even made you feel a little safer than before.

It had been hours since the incident with your brother, hours in which you spent wondering if you should really attend Jungkook’s party or simply ignore it and move on. Would there be any problem if you went? It was just a party, they’d probably eat something, drink a little, talk about trivial things, and then you’d go back home in a taxi. What’s the worst that could happen?

“I really don’t understand what you’re doing here,” Taehyung said, letting out a heavy sigh as he watched you finish off his last reserve of coffee. He hated how bitter it was, but his girlfriend loved to drink coffee in the mornings, so he had gone out of his way to buy one of the stupidly expensive brands he found at the store, with the excuse that “his girlfriend deserved the best of the best.” Both you and Soomin nearly fainted when you heard the price. “Wasn’t Jungkook’s birthday today? Minnie told me she was going to his apartment tonight for that reason.”

“It is, but I don’t know if I should go,” you murmured, stirring your third spoonful of coffee into your cup before filling it to the brim with boiling water. You didn’t miss the grimace of disgust from your friend as he watched how you prepared your drink. He had no right to blame you when he ate far worse things.

“Why not? I thought you liked him, I mean, you even have him as Jungkookie in your phone,” he raised an eyebrow, his tone playful, resting his forearms on the kitchen counter. All his attention was on you and how you tried to drink your coffee in one gulp.

The burn in your throat was enough to distract you from whatever you’d been feeling in your chest all afternoon. Just like your father used to say, there was nothing better than pain to heal another pain.

“He’s my secretary.”

“He’s a guy.”

“He’s my worker, Taehyung.”

“He’s a pretty handsome guy, Y/N.”

You both exchanged looks for a few seconds, neither of you commenting on it.

“I’m ready!” Soomin entered the kitchen, looking just as charming as always. She wore a beige dress with a plaid coat in autumn tones. Her hair was gracefully tied in a high ponytail, giving her a cheerful and youthful look.

It didn’t go unnoticed by you that both of them were matching, nor could you ignore the loving and admiring look Taehyung gave her as soon as her small figure appeared at the kitchen door.

“You look as dazzling as ever, darling,” Taehyung said in a soft, honeyed tone. His hand took hers and made her spin once before pulling her close to kiss her temple.

And there you were. In front of them. Watching them exchange sweet words and romantic gestures.

You felt incredibly out of place.

“Please tell me you’re staying here, because I don’t think I can handle a ride in the same car as you two,” you muttered with a grimace of disgust, looking at Taehyung with the most pleading look you could muster.

“Of course I’ll go, he’s my friend too,” he responded with a teasing smile as he wrapped his arms around Soomin’s waist.

You wanted to hit him. You wanted to grab his perfectly styled hair and pull it until he was bald. He deserved it.

“I hate you.”

“I adore you too.”

And you responded by flipping him off.

“Wait, what did you say?” you frowned, watching as both Taehyung and Soomin stayed in the car, looking at you through the open window.

“I’m so sorry, I really don’t know how I forgot the gift at home,” yeah, maybe it was because Taehyung had been too busy kissing her poor face to think about anything else, “We won’t take long, I promise, it’ll be a quick trip there and back.”

You sighed when you heard Soomin. You didn’t want to arrive alone, especially not when you didn’t know how many people would be at Jungkook’s birthday party, but you also understood that they didn’t want to show up without the gift they had bought for him. After all, it was his party.

“Fine, go ahead, I’ll go first,” you said quietly, shaking your hair in frustration. Was it Taehyung’s fault? Half of it, would you hate him for it? Totally. He was your friend, and you had every right to want to choke him for putting you in this situation. You could see it in that smug smile he was giving you; Soomin could say it was an accident, but Taehyung’s face screamed that it was a carefully planned trap.

He would pay for this.

“We’ll be back in a bit,” Soomin murmured with an apologetic smile just before the car drove off, leaving you completely alone in the apartment complex where Jungkook lived.

“Okay, I guess it’ll just be you and me,” you looked at the gift bag in your hand, letting your feet take you to the door marked 309, where the party was supposed to be.

The walk there was silent, the only noise in the place was the sound of your boots clicking against the slick floors of the building’s hallways and the occasional little voice screaming at you to go back home, that this was a bad idea, that you weren’t made for these kinds of things.

You were supposed to be that rich, single aunt that all the nieces and nephews loved because she took them on amazing vacations and all that stuff you always saw in movies. You weren’t the protagonist, you were the supporting character that everyone remembered, whether they loved you or hated you.

Yet, here you were, in front of Jungkook’s apartment, holding a small gift bag, impatiently waiting for him to open the door and greet you so you could stop hearing that voice in your head telling you to run away from this place.

“Hey-” Jungkook stopped halfway through the word when he realized it was you on the other side of his door. Although he had expected you to come, he never thought you would actually show up.

You had been ignoring his birthday invitations since, well, since he started inviting you.

“Miss Y/N, you came!” A big smile spread across his face, and his eyes seemed to light up even more than usual. You forced yourself to ignore the pressure in your chest at seeing him so excited about your appearance.

“Just call me Y/N, we’re not at work,” you murmured, swaying awkwardly in your spot. “Can I, uh, you know, come in?”

“Oh, yes, sorry! Please, come in!” He stepped aside, giving you space to enter his small but cozy home.

You carefully stepped in, taking off your shoes and placing them to the side, quietly thanking Jungkook for the slippers he offered so you could come in.

“I’m sorry for coming alone, Taehyung and Soomin forgot something and went back,” you said as you walked further into the space. You noticed how all the walls were painted black, with several monochrome paintings hanging on them.

You were quite surprised to see that everything in his home was dark-toned. It was very similar to yours in that sense, something that made you feel a little more at ease. At least your tastes in home decor were similar.

Your house was much larger, always dark, and the atmosphere always felt cold and lonely. It was hard to feel that here. You convinced yourself it was due to the warm lighting and the coziness of the place, not Jungkook’s presence.

"Should I offer you something to drink? I have wine, champagne… I also have beer and soju," Jungkook's voice sounded a little muffled as his head was deep inside the refrigerator. You chuckled softly at this, gently pressing your fingers against your mouth to prevent him from noticing.

"Soju is fine, thanks," you watched as he pulled out two bottles and placed them on the counter, quickly heading to one of the kitchen cabinets to grab two small glasses. "Didn't you invite more people?" you asked after seeing him stop in front of you, performing some completely unnecessary bottle tricks. At least he had made you laugh a little.

"I celebrated my birthday last week with my university friends, today I just wanted to invite the people from work," he served the alcohol until both glasses were filled to the brim, his gaze occasionally drifting to your face. He could act charismatic, but you could notice the slight tremble in his hands and how he licked his lips from time to time. "I didn't mention it earlier because I thought it wouldn't be important."

You nodded silently, drinking the shot he just handed you in one go. You needed to ease some of the tension in your body, and alcohol was definitely the best option for now. "So I guess it will just be the four of us."

"Oh, yeah, I thought you'd feel more comfortable this way," he murmured softly, tapping his fingers on the glass of his cup. "I know you don't like to hang out with too many people, especially if it's people you don't know."

You took the soju bottle and poured yourself another full glass. You'd need more than two bottles to get through this night without doing something you'd regret tomorrow. Jungkook wasn't helping at all.

"Thanks for that," you gave him a tight-lipped smile, watching the clear liquid in your glass. How much longer until Soomin and Taehyung arrived? "Oh, yes, almost forgot," you left the small gift bag you were carrying on the counter, noticing how Jungkook's eyes lit up again at what seemed like a new discovery to him. Hadn't he seen you bring it when you entered?

"Is this for me?" He looked at you with wide eyes and a big smile on his face.

You pinched your wrist tightly as your stomach twisted. "Uh, yeah, obviously, you're the only birthday person."

"Right, of course, I forgot," he clumsily took the bag in his hands, swallowing hard as he looked inside. "Can I open it now?"

You nodded silently, feeling your hands start to sweat at the thought of him opening your gift right then. You had planned on asking him to open it when you weren't around, when you wouldn’t have to see his face as he looked at it. There was something about having to give him something alone that made you feel too nervous for your own good.

You watched carefully as he pulled out the black velvet box, your eyes fixed on his expression as he lifted the lid and saw the contents.

It was only when you saw his cheeks turn a soft pink that you realized maybe buying him a ring hadn’t been the best idea...

"Is... is this... really for me?" He looked up, watching you with such hopeful, soft eyes and... so him that you couldn't help but blush as well.

This was not going as it was supposed to.

"Ah, yes, it's not necessary for you to wear it if you don't want to, I just thought you might like it and I bought it, but—" you stopped when you noticed him clumsily taking the ring out of the velvet and putting it on his index finger.

"I love it! Thank you so much, Y/N, I promise I’ll never take it off!" He stretched his arms toward you, and before you could do anything to stop him, he wrapped his arms around you over the counter, pulling you against him tightly.

You felt your breath catch in your throat as the scent of his shampoo and perfume hit you from so close, and the body heat from his arms didn't help with the accelerated pounding of your heart. What were you supposed to do now? Pulling away from the hug would be rude, but accepting it might be too unethical. He was your secretary. There was a line that couldn’t be crossed.

The thing was… you didn’t want to separate from the hug.

You relaxed a little at his touch, letting your own arms wrap around his body carefully. Not pressing too hard, as if doing it more gently would prevent your relationship from breaking down even further.

You stayed like that for what felt like an eternity. Both of you too absorbed in each other to really pay attention to the time or the situation you were in. You couldn’t remember the last time you let a man hug you like this.

“Y/N, I…” Jungkook pulled back a bit, just enough for your faces to be dangerously close. His arms were still tightly wrapped around you, refusing to let go at any moment.

You watched as his Adam's apple bobbed up and down as he swallowed and licked his lips. You weren’t supposed to notice these things, you reminded yourself, but it was too hard when it was all you had in your line of vision, and closing your eyes was even worse than keeping them open.

“I know you already know this, but I…” his voice was too soft, too low. Oh, shit, you knew what was coming, you had experienced it a few years ago. It was the same tone he used the first time he confessed his feelings to you. Your heart started pounding against your ribs, and you forced yourself to think that it was due to the anxiety and panic the situation caused you, that it was due to all the problems you’d have if he said it again. It wasn’t at all because you actually wanted to hear those words again.

Of course not.

Then everything happened too fast. You watched his eyes wander until they stopped on your lips, how his tongue ran over them, over that ring on the corner, and god, he was making your task of acting like a responsible adult so difficult. Soon his face began to move closer to yours, his gaze wandering from your mouth to your eyes, making sure you wanted this, kind of asking if you were okay with him getting dangerously close.

And for a moment, you thought maybe it wouldn’t be so bad, maybe, just maybe, a moment like this could be accepted, even if just once, so you closed your eyes and waited. You could feel his breath mixing with yours, how his nose barely brushed against yours, and just as his lips were about to touch yours... the door knocked.

“Shit,” Jungkook muttered quietly, lowering his head as he took a deep breath. His arms quickly released their grip around your shoulders, leaving you with a cold feeling where they had been holding you, “It must be Taehyung and Soomin… I’ll go open,” he whispered, stumbling out of the kitchen to open the door, leaving you completely alone.

You covered your mouth with your hand, staring at a blank spot on the counter, replaying everything that had just happened in your head. You were screwed, you were really screwed, even though nothing happened, you were inches away from kissing him, and god knows what else you could have done…

You thought you heard Soomin’s cheerful voice getting closer, but you couldn’t understand what she was saying, you were too busy thinking about what the hell you were going to do with… well, whatever had just happened.

When you looked up, you found yourself facing Jungkook again, both exchanging a silent glance, both communicating something completely different. Yours reflected panic and terror, his, hope and joy.

You had crossed the damn line you promised not to touch, and it was all your fault.

Yes, you were screwed, and you needed to find a way to fix things as soon as possible.

Masterlist.

[artificiallita]

i got bit by the butch wolverine bug and trust me im in lov w her BUT have we considered futch deadpool???

(headcanons and upcoming fic snippets under the cut)

working on a big silly fanfic about this hot mess boinking logan in the odyssey. here’s some headcanons while the story finishes cooking.

- so. kept her first name as wade. i’ve seen a few alt names floating around for f!deadpool (big love for the winnies, winonas, and wandas of the ladypool extended universe) but genderfuck ‘not rlly a name’ just fits my vision for her. her parents were weird idk.

- deadpool is a woman in all variants except one in my personal headcanon. he is called dudepool. also her corresponding nicepool is male gaze-ified pre-mutation wade. she’s bleach blonde and her suit has a titty window.

- ex special forces turned mercenary whose life shit the bed when she was diagnosed with cancer. tried to be proactive about it long enough to get a mastectomy, then found out said cancer was pretty much everywhere else, and we know the story from there. since this predates her healing factor, she’s permanently single-boobed. has padding in her suit to even her out since it doesn’t leave a whole lot to the imagination, wears big t-shirts and ignores it in her civilian life.

- bisexual disaster zone. spent many years in a very happy and deeply perverted relationship with a male stripper named van carlysle, until that went down the toilet. a solid 70% of the casual sex she has is with women.

- dresses like the shitshow nightmare we know and love, loves an awful t shirt and a pair of crocs. put little to no effort into her appearance pre-mutation and that hasn’t really changed, had a brief phase of screwing around with makeup and wigs and then decided it was basically - to use a line of internal monologue from the pending fic - rolling a turd in glitter.

- speaking of, has a real complex about the changes to the way people perceive her post-mutation, namely that they seem to find her super fucking irritating and odd in a way that they very much Didn’t when she was still conventionally hot. between her military background and the general company she keeps, she’s quite often the only woman in her circles, and has always been a dysfunctional mess of adhd and unfiltered word-vomit, but that was generally read as mpdg ‘cool girl’ behaviour prior to her transformation, and now people seem to just think she’s a lunatic. less ‘oh god im hideous’, although she *absolutely* has those moments too, more ‘oh god everyone i know has thought i was a weird pain in the ass this entire time and only tolerated me because they wanted to fuck me’

- wears a lot of poorly applied eyeliner and purposely sleeps in it because she thinks it looks cool. it does not.

- had absolutely zero plans to snitch to cassandra about johnny’s rant, right up until the ‘bald hell’ line. she took that shit personally (almost definitely didn’t need to but whatever. i support women’s wrongs.)

and some snippets from the fic, all of which are me wade objectifying logan. technically spoilers but also what else did anyone expect

[daisyblog]

Styles in Rome

Our Story Masterlist Summary: Harry, YN and Grace have their first family holiday in Italy.

Based on this request and a big thank you to @howling-wolf97 for helping me.

warning: body insecurities

Italy was like a second home to Harry and YN. The last few years they had spent  lot of time there, whether that was work related for Harry or to enjoy some time as a couple. It only felt right for their first family holiday to be to Rome. 

Travelling with a 7 week old baby had definitely tested their travelling skills of needing to pack more, travel heavier and plan their schedule to the inch of their lives. 

Harry had managed to organise their flights so they would land early evening, meaning they could try and stick to Grace’s routine as much as they could. 

Their first full day began with a 7am wake up call from Grace, who was letting out small cries from her travel cot next to their bed. YN stirred first, adjusting the Italian sun shining through the large glass window.

Gently picking up Grace from where she lay, she carefully cuddled her into her shoulder and picking up her blanket. “Shh…it’s okay…Mummy’s here…are you hungry my girl?”. 

YN walked through their apartment and opened the door to the balcony, that overlooked the sea. Sitting on one of the chairs, YN gently lifted her top and allowed Grace to latch on for her morning milk. Stroking the little one’s cheek, she couldn’t help but think about how lucky she was. “Your Daddy and me love it here…and I’m sure you will too”. 

ynstyles story

Replies:

harryfan4 ITALRRY PENDING!

harryfan9 choke her with a sea view!

annetwist Missing you all already❤️

harryfan2 Enjoy!!☺️

lottietomlinson Have fun!! Miss and love you loads🩷🩷🩷

Harry appeared at the balcony doors, two mugs in his hands before placing them on the table. “Morning my girls!”. He left a peck on YN’s lips, before placing his finger in Grace’s hand as she still fed. “Are you having cuddles with Mummy? Are you taking all my cuddles?”.

“I think Daddy’s jealous”. YN pretended to whisper to Grace, adding a smirk as she watched Harry sit in the chair next to her.

“You can’t blame a man for wanting some cuddles with his wife”. YN couldn’t hide her smile as she stared at him. “Why are you looking at me like that?”.

Her smile only got bigger, as she glanced down at Grace and back at her husband. “I just love it when you call me your wife”.

“You’ve been my wife for the last twelve years…but it’s just official now”. Harry did mean what he said. They may have only been married for a couple of months, but nothing has changed between the couple. They’re still happy, still madly in love but now they get to share that happiness with their daughter.

“I love you more and more everyday”. YN lifted Grace up as she noticed she had finished her morning feed.

“It will never beat my love for you two”. Harry opened his arms as YN gently placed Grace into them. Seeing Harry with Grace always sparked a burst of joy in YN’d heart. She watched as Harry looked down at Grace in his arms with pure love and him being a dad was definitely YN’s favourite look on him.

“Your dad era makes you ten times hotter!”. YN couldn’t control what she was saying. The postpartum hormones and the lack of intimacy the last few months has definitely caught with her. “Long hair era has gone to second place!”.

“You must really fancy me at the moment then…you used to pounce on me every change you got when I had long locks!”. Harry teased as he cuddled Grace into his arms, placing a delicate kiss to her head.

“They were the days!”.

---

After they had eaten some breakfast, got showered and dressed for the day. They decided to spend a couple of hours at the beach.

As they arrived at the quiet beach, Grace had fallen asleep in the carrier so they laid her down under the large umbrella out of the sun. Harry quickly removed his T-shirt, which left him in his dark green shorts and tattoos on display. YN let her eyes stare, taking in the view and admiring her gorgeous husband. She couldn’t help but let the insecurities take over and question how someone so effortlessly beautiful could want her.

Harry covered himself in sunscreen, before his eyes noticed that YN was doing the same to herself after she had put some on Grace. But what he was surprised at was that she was still wearing her cover up.

“Not that I don’t like your cover up…but I was hoping that since Grace isn’t in need of those right now that I could admire them”. Harry tried to joke about wanting to see YN in a bikini.

YN’s lips twitched knowing Harry was teasing. “Oh…uh…I’m a bit chilly”. She cursed at herself knowing how ridiculous that sounded considering how warm it was.

Harry frowned as he realised that there was more to this than he originally thought. Sitting down on the large towels covering the sand, he slid his arm around her waist, his hand landing on her hip. “Hey…what’s wrong?”.

YN thought about lying again, making something else up, but she knew Harry had already caught onto her hiding something. Without looking at him, as she felt his hand rubbing her hip gently, she spoke the truth. “It’s just…since I’ve…I…I’m embarrassed of my body since having Grace…and that’s not Grace’s fault…I absolutely love that my body grew such a beautiful little baby…but I can’t help but think you’re going to look at my new body and just…I don’t know…not love me anymore!”.

Harry listened to every words his wife said, and the words stung. He blamed himself for how YN was feeling and annoyed that he hadn’t noticed. He thought carefully about his next words, not wanting to say the wrong thing. Gently turning her head to face him. “Babe…I could never not love you…if anything I love you more now than I ever have…you’re more to me than just your body, you’re my wife…you’re my best friend…my soulmate…the mother to my baby and future babies…nobody else is you and I want you…I’ll always want you…I’m in love with you”.

YN had carefully closed her eyes as Harry spoke, and he could only assume it was to stop herself from crying, so his words only continued as he pulled her closer so he was cuddling her.

“You'll never love yourself half as much as I love you…And you'll never treat yourself right darling, but I want you to…if I let you know, I'm here for you…Maybe you'll love yourself like I love you, oh…And I've just let these little things slip out of my mouth…’Cause it's you, oh, it's you…It's you, they add up to…And I'm in love with you…And all these little things…I won't let these little things slip out of my mouth…But if it's true, it's you…It's you, they add up to…I'm in love with you…And all your little things”. Harry sung softly as YN laid in his arms, tears slowly rolling down her cheeks as he sang the meaningful lyrics to her. “But you’re perfect to me”.

---

layla_tpwk

liked by harryfan6, ynstyles and 682 others

layla_tpwk I MET HARRY AND YN STYLES!!❤️BEST DAY OF MY LIFE!! View all 103 comments tagged: harrystyles ynstyles

harryfan3 italrrry!!

sarah_70 So pleased for you darling! A dream come true💕 ⌞layla_tpwk thanks mum🫶🏼 ⌞ynstyles sarah_70 Your daughter is an absolute credit to you. She was so polite, kind and respectful today, especially towards our newborn Grace🩷Layla, a big thank you from Harry and I x ⌞harryfan7 YN!!! ⌞ynrryfan4 OMG YN LIKED AND COMMENTED!! ⌞sarah_70 ynstyles She’s beautiful inside and out. Thank you to you and your husband for giving up some time to chat with her, you’ve made her beam💜 ⌞layla_tpwk ynstyles it was so lovely to meet you both and baby grace 💕

ynrrydaily Story time please???? ⌞harryupdate desperate for this one because yn has liked and commented🙈 ⌞layla_tpwk ok..I’m still in shock but I’m on a family holiday in Italy. I was with my dad and we were walking around and then I spotted harry and yn walking towards us. At first I thought I was dreaming but then I could see yn carrying grace in a carrier. I didn’t want to disturb them but my dad knows I’m a huge fan so he spoke to them first and explained I had been a fan since 1D were on X factor. Honestly they were so kind and even recommended some places for us to go to. yn is literally the sweetest human ever and grace is soooo cute!! I am so happy tonight❤️ ⌞harryfan4 I am very jealous!! ⌞ynrryfan8 I want to meet Harry, YN and Grace😢 ⌞ynfan does grace look like harry or yn??? ⌞layla_tpwk she’s definitely a Tomlinson💕

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[luvhughes43]

tuition payments | hughes!sister

[luvhughes43 masterlist🌷]

request: hi!! i love your work and would like to know if you could do hughes brother x younger hughes sister as the reader, who is short money to go to college and is afraid to ask her brothers first help hut once they find out they help her out?

word count: 0.6k

with your parents' new jobs, they were off the grid for awhile while they tended to their clients and hockey prospects. you knew that in advance, which is why your parents had paid for your tuition before their schedules became busy. so when you got an email on monday saying your tuition was overdue, you were shocked to say the least. 

there was $3 000 pending in your account, which meant your scholarship hadn’t gotten cleared again. you emailed your school back immediately, asking about the money and if your credit could be used, but you didn’t get a reply. all you received were multiple OVERDUE messages, each promising to add more money as a late fee to your already high balance. 

you didn’t have enough money in your savings or chequings account to cover the remaining balance, and so you hastily picked up shifts hoping you could make enough to cover the costs. your friends downright asked why you couldn’t just ask your brothers for the money - and in truth you could, but it just felt wrong. you felt so bad for being dependant on everyone in your family, so if you could help it you would work for the tuition money.

you had almost saved enough when you got the email that your payment had gone through. you sighed in relief, thinking your credit went through but when you checked the app you saw that the remaining balance was paid via card. 

you didn’t have a second to think before a call from quinn lit up your phone. 

“hey quinny?” 

“why didn’t you tell me about your tuition?” he asks, getting straight to the point. 

“how do you know about that?” “dad told me before he went on his work trip to check your accounts and make sure everything was paid,” quinn states simply, and you wonder briefly how quinn even got into your school account before realizing your parents have your passwords. 

“oh…”

“why wouldn’t you tell us you had tuition due?” your brother asks again, this time his voice full of confusion. “like, we could’ve handled this sooner. at least you don't have any of the stupid fees,” he trails off. 

“i just,” you pause, feeling that your reasoning was stupid now that you were about to vocalize it. “i feel like i'm so dependent on you guys. i picked up a few shifts to try and make the money up but it just didn’t happen,” you sigh. 

quinns quiet on the phone and you shift uncomfortably. “you know we don’t care right?” 

“i care!” you huff before putting the call on speaker and laying down on your dorm bed. 

“i’m a millionaire,” quinn states simply. “your schooling is important. you’re not working full-time so you can focus on your studies” 

“i know but i still feel bad…”

quinn sighs, “literally don’t worry about it. nobody feels like you're dependent. you're a university student it’s normal to need help,” 

“okay…” your voice is quiet, and you feel a pang of guilt hit your chest. sometimes you just wish that you didn’t have to ask your brothers or parents for help. 

“i love you y/nny, if you need anything just call” 

“i love you too,” you reply. the siblings stay on the call for a few more minutes, just debriefing on life and the daily dramas. you always know, despite how guilty you may feel, that you’ll always have your brothers if you need help.

[blackenedsnow]

howdy!! like many others I am down for the bug man and love the way you write him,, I've been battling a little cold for the past few days and I think it would fix me (or at least bring me joy) if you could write something with beej and a sick reader? either toon or movie juice would work :)

death becomes you (not really)

WARNING: Sickness

PAIRING: Beetlejuice x Sick!Reader

NOTE: Hii! You're probably feeling better by now, if not, I hope you get well soon! I went with Toonjuice because I haven’t written as much for him, but I’m dying to do more! Hope you enjoy this!

SUMMARY: You're down with a cold, and Beetlejuice is, well… trying to help. Whether his attempts are more cure or curse, only time will tell.

You felt like death.

Not the cool kind of death with the ominous fog and cool, haunted moors—the kind you’d expect Beetlejuice to show up with. No, this was the miserable, sickly, mucus-ridden kind of death, where all you wanted was a cozy blanket, a good potion of cold meds, and about three weeks of uninterrupted sleep.

The door creaked open, and the unmistakable smell of something both vaguely expired and weirdly… minty? filled the air. You cracked open an eye and found yourself face-to-face with Beetlejuice, grinning as he hovered over you with something resembling concern. Or mischief. It was hard to tell with him.

“Oh, what’s this?” He crouched down, head tilted, putting his chin in his hands. “Somebody didn’t tell me they were planning to kick the bucket today. I coulda thrown a party!”

You gave a weak smile, too tired to argue. “I’m not dying, Beej… just a cold.”

He made a face, like the very idea was beneath him. “Cold? You mean you’re alive and still managing to look this awful?” He winked, but his voice softened a little. “Poor sucker… Well, lucky for you, you know the Ghost with the Most!”

“Oh no…” you muttered, already dreading what he might have in mind.

Beetlejuice wasn’t known for conventional cures, but before you could even attempt to protest, he snapped his fingers, and the room darkened for a split second before flickering back. When you opened your eyes, you saw he’d arranged a variety of bizarre items on your bedside table.

“Ta-da!” he sang, flourishing his hands. “The Beetlejuice Cure-All! Patent pending, results totally not guaranteed.”

You squinted at the collection. There was a bottle of something swampy green that sloshed a little too thickly, a small stack of something that looked like the world’s weirdest energy bars, and a bag of what you hoped were just dried herbs but had a suspicious, crunchy quality.

He held up the green bottle. “First things first: Beetlejuice’s Cough-Be-Gone Concoction! One sip of this, and bam! Sickness, begone!”

“Beej…” you eyed the liquid. “What’s in that?”

“Oh, you know... I dunno, let’s say ‘mystery slime’ from the Neitherworld.” He leaned in close, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “Trust me, it’s a secret recipe.”

You narrowed your eyes. Your head was pounding, your nose was stuffed up, and even the faintest whiff of “mystery slime” was enough to make your stomach turn. “I am not doing this today,” you muttered, sinking deeper into your blankets.

Beetlejuice’s grin faltered just a bit, but he quickly bounced back, waving his hands theatrically. “Aw, c’mon, babe! Think of it as, I dunno, holistic medicine! Just one gulp of this beauty-"

You glared at him. “I’m already feeling nauseous. That thing is only gonna make it worse.”

He pouted, clutching the bubbling concoction like it was some treasured elixir. “Sheesh, tough crowd. Well, I got other ways to cheer ya up.” He snapped his fingers, and with a flash of green light, a parade of tiny skeletons appeared, each wearing a tiny top hat and doing an eerie little dance on the edge of your bed.

But you just groaned, pulling the blanket over your face. “Beetlejuice, I don’t have the energy for your... whatever this is.”

His shoulders slumped as the skeletons disappeared with a small poof. “Man, really tough audience tonight.” He hesitated, scratching his head as he glanced at you huddled up in your blanket, looking smaller and way more miserable than he was used to seeing. He leaned down to your level, his usual smirk fading as he tilted his head to study you.

“Hey,” he said softly, a note of actual worry slipping into his voice. “You really feeling that bad?”

Your eyes flicked to him, too tired to be annoyed anymore. “Yeah,” you muttered.

For a moment, Beetlejuice just stared, almost uncertain of what to do. Then he carefully set down his bubbling “potion,” took a deep breath, and plopped down next to you, close enough to feel his chilly presence.

“Well… alright then,” he said with a small shrug, as though convincing himself. “I can dial it down a bit. You, uh, need anything? More blankets? I got a stash of ‘em from the Neitherworld. They’re kinda… dusty. But hey, adds to the charm, right?”

You managed a small smile despite yourself. “I think I’m good on dust, thanks.”

He laughed softly, reaching over to pat your shoulder in a surprisingly gentle way. “Alright, alright. I’m here, y’know? Just… rest. I can keep the skeletons quiet for once.”

It was a rare side of him, seeing him actually worried—and for once, it felt like you might just let him take care of you.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

The Pain of Living 3

Warnings: non/dubcon, chronic pain, blood/violence, perversion, and other dark elements. Not all kinks or triggers are tagged. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Summary: You deal with pain every day, but a new source of pain lands on your front step.

Note: I know I shouldn’t.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

Ibuprofen, pedialyte, gauze, and a few extras just to pad out your cupboards. It’s not quite a success considering what you’re headed back to. You drive cautiously, wondering if anyone else can see the horror sewn into your face. No one stops you, no sirens whoop, you’re left to face the strange man in your bed. 

You get home and carry in the bags, pausing just inside to catch your breath. The brief trip has you ragged. You feel twice as bad as when you left. That isn’t what matters. The blood on your floor reminds you that there is much worse to deal with. 

You bend and take out the large bottle of pills and a bottle of grape electrolytes. Your steps are weighed down by more than your pain. Dread hangs off of you like a wet blanket. 

You knock. On your own door. The man doesn’t answer. Your heart pumps. You knock louder, keeping the bottles hugged under your arm. 

Still no answer. You twist the handle and push inside. Please, let it be an awful nightmare. Don’t let him be dead. 

“Ah, oh god,” you exclaim and spin away from the sight the strange man’s naked back. The vision of his ass as he bends his leg around your duvet is stamped into your mind. Ugh. “Sorry, I--” 

“Fuck, I finally fell asleep,” he sneers. “Got the painkillers?” You nod at the hallway. The bed creaks and he huffs. “Well... give it.” 

You turn warily. He has the blanket pulled over his lap. His torso is entire naked, a patchwork of stitches, dried blood, and hair. You near the bed and set down the tablets and the electrolytes. 

“NSAIDs,” he rattles the bottle. “Anti-inflammatories help with blood clotting. It’ll keep me from bleeding out like Normandy beach.” You wince at his crude allusion. He rolls his eyes, “relax. Think I’m through the worst of it. No major arteries. But damn...” he leans back against the pillows, “I feel like a slapped ass.” 

You furrow your brow. The way he talks, his arrogance, it makes it hard to feel bad for him despite his injuries. He tosses back two pills and reaches for the other bottle. He gulps eagerly and pops his wet lips. 

“Mm, fuck, exactly what I need. Hey, you got a TV you can move in here? Something to watch?” He asks. 

You hesitate. 

“You should probably sleep--” 

“Thanks, Nurse Ratchet, I’d love to fucking sleep, but I’m restless now you woke me up,” he sneers. 

“Um... I have my laptop.” 

“Any fucking screen that can keep me from going mad staring at the ceiling.” He insists. 

You nod and back out of the room. This is odd. Absurd to the point you question your own sanity. Have you summoned a hallucination out of sheer boredom? Did you snap? Or do you really have the worst luck? 

You sniff and go to find your laptop. You don’t use it for more than filing your insurance claims and to get your mailing labels for your work. He can borrow it for a bit. You don’t have any pending orders. 

You return to him. He doesn’t acknowledge you as you enter. You hold out the computer. 

“Here, um, it’s all yours.” 

“You talk to anyone?” He asks. 

“Anyone...?” 

“When you went out, did you talk to anyone?” 

“Not really. I used the self-checkout--” 

“Did you tell anyone about me?” He interrupts. 

“Erm, no, I...” 

“Fuck, you are dull. That’s all I need,” he takes the laptop. “You can piss off.” 

You flinch. Wow. That’s not very nice. 

You reach for the laptop as he puts it on his lap, “look, if you’re going to be mean, I have better things to do with that--” 

He grabs your wrist and easily twists it back. Despite his condition, he’s just as strong as his bulging muscles would suggest. You whimper as your eyes glimmer. 

“Ow, let go, please,” you whimper. 

He keeps you locked in for another moment before he obliges. You retract and swallow down the agony. What hurt before is now unbearable. You cradle your arm and retreat. 

“Close the door, raggedy ann.” 

You shut the door. As much to block him out as to appease him. How can someone you helped be so rotten? 

You go to the kitchen and sit in a wooden chair at the small table. You rub your wrist and sniffle. It’s easier to be alone and in pain. You don’t like others to see you struggle. The way that man behaves, you don’t want to show any weakness. 

You blow out between your lips and look at the door. You’ll need to clean up soon. The rug is garbage but getting rid of a blood-stained carpet won’t be easy. And the bleach might not do much for the floor. 

You put your head down on your folded arms. You’ll deal with it eventually. Like everything else. It’s too much. Everything waits on the pain. Your whole life is centered on your aching bones and burning muscles. 

You wallow in your self-pity until you have the energy to get up. When you do, you ignore the inevitable and make coffee. As it brews, there’s a holler. 

“Hey, sugar stack,” the man calls, “is that coffee I smell?” 

You tense, a surge of pain rippling through you. You exhale and collect your strength. You yell back, “yeah.” 

“I take mine black. Thanks, baby.” 

You close your eyes and grit your teeth. You’re not a mean person. You’re not cruel. You don’t hate people. In fact, you do your best to keep them happy. You don’t want to be a burden. You don’t to be a problem.  

Yet this man makes your brain fiery. You’re actually annoyed. Angry even. It isn’t that he’s just rude, he presumptuous. He just assumes that everything belongs to him, and that seems to include your home.  

You can guess how he ended up the way he did. He doesn’t exactly inspire kindness. 

[mochinomnoms]

Funfacts about PTM Characters!

Still chilling out from finishing my thesis, but I had a few fun facts about the side characters for PTM that I'd thought you'd all enjoy in the meantime! It's gonna include some of the canon characters as well as the ocs!

This includes some very minor, but not story defining, spoilers for PTM so proceed with caution! As a reminder, PTM takes place a school year after the current timeline!

Canon Characters:

Jade and Floyd made bets on who would get together with their crush first during their 3rd year. The loser has to let the winner(s) plan and execute the most humiliating way to confess. Neither twin is winning. Azul is currently winning with his bet of “neither of you will, you cowards.”

Ortho went to most of Idia's classes during his time at NRC, so he was allowed to “skip” repeating those years when becoming an official student by taking a competency exam. However, he is still staying for a year since the test only allows for core classes and not his electives. He's happy to do so, though.

Idia stayed at NRC to complete his internship with the school, much to his disappointment. He works as a Technomage Intern with the college's technology department.

The overblot cast got closer with each other and Yuu than expected over the summer due to Crowley and S.T.Y.X. requiring them to take part in a “summer camp” to monitor them and their health. Leona still hates Malleus though. Malleus is still mostly unaware of this.

Malleus still does not know how to use technology. Sebek and Yuu have a weekly call with him via a looking glass mirror that acts like a video call. Malleus enjoys it very much.

Kalim switched places with Jamil and is now vice housewarden, while Jamil is now housewarden. Neither's families were happy about this, but were shut down by Kalim being surprisingly firm about his decision. To everyone's surprise, Kalim does very well as a vice over a housewarden, though Scarabia has had significantly fewer parties since the switch.

Nearly all the clubs that had the 3rd years as captains/heads had one of the 2nd years take over into their 3rd year. Ruggie is now Spelldrive Captain, Azul is head of the Board Game Club, and the Gargoyle Studies Club is headed by Yuu. The Pop Music Club is also more formalized now, with Kalim as the head. The Science Club and Film Studies have an NPC 3rd year as heads.

Yuu isn't actually that bad at singing as everyone has (and will continue to do so) suggested. Most of the student body had classical training growing up as part of their privileged upbringing, and Yuu has to compete with that.

At least two pairs of canon characters will get together at the end! Guess who tehe.

OC:

Silas likes to eat bugs and regularly digs in the dirt behind Ramshackle to find something crunchy to munch. They did it once in front of Jamil and the poor guy screamed in horror.

Yev became the new Pomefiore housewarden due to being able to produce the best posion, as per tradition. However, he's actually quite bad at being a housewarden and his vice is the one that everyone tends to listen to.

The Salson triplets are from the TWST equivalent of Salem, and have a North easterner accent, similar to Boston I think. Wynfred and Marion mimic English, or Rosarian, accents, but Silas does not.

There are two more mermen in the school, minus the canon cast and two ocs. They aren't important to the story, but their names are Mariano De La Reyes and Benji (last name still pending). They're based off of Marina and Benjamin from the third Little Mermaid movie.

Speaking of mermen, Aspen is a squidmer and is based on the colossal squid. He's about 18 ft long and still growing. Tony is based on a tiger shark, but is the runt of his litter, hence why he's so small.

Tommy, the white rabbit beastmen that was introduced as Riddle's new vice, is notorious for always running late. He never has actually been late to anything due to parkouring everywhere and climbing the castle walls to enter the classrooms through the windows. Floyd learned how to parkour from him. Riddle hates everything about this.

Briefly mentioned in the last chapter was the botany professor, Kallpa. Kallpa is based on Kronk and the uncle of Yev.

Nurse Goethel has a wife and two daughters that she brings with her to family days on campus. The daughters are roughly age 11 and 13 and each time they've come have designated a student as the new person they want to marry. Two years ago it was Leona and Trey, last year it was Azul and Jamil, this year it's Jack and Ortho. There is no reasoning behind their decision, it's all based on vibes.

James has met Jade and Floyd when they were all very young. James was on his Great Aunt's ship, who was meeting with Papa Leech for unknown reasons. James only remembers them due to their heterochromia eyes, but the twins don't remember anything.

Marion has a really strong sense of smell that is on par with the beastmen. He hates Pomefiore because the dorm and students are heavily perfumed and it gives him a migraine.

Yaqub actually has a twin brother that goes to RSA. He thinks it's funny that it turned out that way and they like to shittalk their schools together on the weekends. RSA is much more chaotic and full of troublemakers than NRC realizes.

At least two pairs of the freshmen will get together at the end of PTM, but it will be a surprise as to who!

And that's all! I have more but I think I'll save them for another time!

[shyvioletcat]

Day 1 of Rowaelin Month! I thought it might be fun to revisit this one for Long Distance Surprise. Head over to @rowaelinscourt for more Rowaelin Month goodness.

~ Masterlist Pending ~

~~~~~

Aelin knew what she was getting into when she decided to enter a relationship with a global singing superstar. She was no stranger to fame herself with her highly successful talk show and it had been what had brought her and Rowan together in the first place. It still didn’t make certain aspects any easier. She could brush off the constant rumours plastered on the front of the tabloids, the lies for a quick sell didn’t bother her. They were both old hands when it came to the lack of privacy and they did the best they could in that regard. It was the time spent apart that took its toll, now more than ever. 

They were newlyweds and they were having a baby, a time they should have been basking in their overabundant love. But instead Aelin was alone and absolutely miserable about it.

This pregnancy wasn’t planned and that came with some obstacles. Rowan still had obligations, locked in months in advance, and he had done his best to work his way out of the non-essential ones. After they’d had their fun with the stunt on Aelin’s show they’d taken a fortnight off work. Those two blissful weeks were far too short and then Rowan had needed to leave for a tour in Rifthold. For more than a month Aelin had been moping around, missing her husband and trying not to think about how sad she was.  

Rowan hated it too. He was very vocal about his displeasure and the tirade he’d directed at Lorcan in their living room the night before he left had been one for the history books. Lorcan, the levelled headed manager than he was, calmly explained Rowan was under contractual obligations and the fallout from breaking those was not worth it. Rowan was ready to throw the remainder of his career out the window, but Aelin had managed to convince him that they could survive a few months, there was no reason to risk giving up doing what he loved. Right now Aelin had regrets about her practicality. 

She was alone in her dressing room, the call to be out on the soundstage was in about 15 minutes. The phone call she’d had with Rowan this morning had left her in tears and she could still feel the lingering effects. It was usually a video call, but Rowan explained he didn’t have enough service for it to work properly. He ran on her schedule so sometimes he only had a few minutes. Aelin had got used to seeing his face and giving him a bump update, soaking in his words of pure adoration he had for her and their baby. This morning she’d missed that, luckily she had been able to keep it together until she hung up the phone. As soon as the red button had been pushed Aelin had promptly burst into tears. Her face still felt puffy and her eyes felt heavy. If she didn’t have work to do she’d just sleep. 

It was the hormones, she was sure of it. They had to be the reason she was so teary all the time. Everything set her off, just last week one of her guests had told a story how they missed out on their favourite doughnuts and Aelin had been reaching for the tissues. That had been embarrassing to say the least and it had taken a lot of placating and a spicy kind of call with Rowan to make her feel better.

Just like that and her thoughts were back on Rowan. Aelin looked up to the mirror in front of her and watched as her eyes mist up her reflection, threatening to ruin the make-up that had just been finished. She had to pull herself together. Another hour and a half and she could hide in here, lock her door and cry her eyes out. Then she would go home and eat an entire block of chocolate and wait for her evening phone call with Rowan. It was as easy as that. Aelin stood, snapping a photo of herself and the bump, another ritual for her and Rowan while they suffered through this hellish long distance separation. The flower bouquet on her vanity that Rowan sent her every week was starting to wilt, she was more than confident another one would appear today. She was surprised it hadn’t already. 

By some miracle Aelin had made it through the whole show without shedding a tear despite her horrid mood. The segment on the local animal shelter had pushed her close to breaking, but she held out. Phone in hand, Aelin was headed back to her dressing room, ready to try and call Rowan despite knowing he wouldn’t be available. When the message tone pinged Aelin excitedly flipped the screen into view, hoping it was a text from her husband. It wasn’t. It was a reminder from her doctor about her scan appointment tomorrow. 

She was meant to get it when she was closer to 20 weeks, not 23 weeks that she was now. But Aelin, miserable and busy as she was, had been delaying it. Now her doctor was insisting and there was no real reason for Aelin to delay any longer. It was routine and the doctor had no real concerns so she hadn’t felt too guilty in waiting. Of course she had wanted Rowan to be there, and that might have been part of the subconscious reasoning behind her avoidant actions. This unfortunately was one of the sacrifices they had to make. It wasn’t like he was missing the birth and he promised he’d be able to video call her through the whole thing. They were meant to find out the gender, and that was a moment Aelin had wanted to share in real life. 

The first thing she noticed walking into her dressing room was the giant bouquet of kingsflame obstructing her mirror. It was damn hard to miss, even with the smallest of glances that she given the room. With a heavy sigh she turned and locked the dressing room door ready to follow through with her plan so that she could wallow in peace. 

“Locking the door without even knowing I'm in here?”

Aelin whiled, hand going to her stomach. Rowan was sitting on her couch, arm draped along the back of it and looking devastatingly handsome and right there. Not a grainy image, not a voice through a phone, the man was physically in her dressing room. 

“Should I be worried about your lapse in personal security?” he raised a brow at her, the corner of his mouth following. “Or did someone give me away?”

“Rowan?” Aelin said she didn’t know why it came out like a question, like maybe she had fallen asleep and was dreaming. 

“Aelin,” he said far too smoothly, his eyes darting over her. She saw the way his gaze softened when it landed on her stomach. 

They were locked in that moment for a heartbeat and then Aelin was striding forward as fast as she could manage. Rowan was on his feet a second later waiting to catch her once she threw her phone on the couch cushions. Aelin threw her arms around him, burying her face in his chest, breathing him in and just so happy to be holding him. Rowan’s arms gently wound around her too, and he pressed a single kiss to her head before resting his chin there. 

“What are you doing here?” Aelin asked, voice thick and tears already falling.

Rowan’s hands were gentle as he cupped her cheeks, wiping away the dampness from her cheeks. “It’s the scan tomorrow, I couldn’t miss that.”

Aelin broke completely, a sob shaking her entire body. Rowan just held her, running soothing hands down her back. He knew she just needed to let it out, he would wait. Her ever patient husband was everything she needed right now. 

“Come on, love. Let’s sit down,” Rowan insisted after a while. 

Aelin’s laugh came out on a bit of a choke, it had been five minutes and he was already fussing. Rowan sat down first, helping Aelin to ease down with him. She did the best she could to sit so she was facing him but her bump was making it a little difficult to get her legs how she wanted them. When she managed to get comfortable Aelin sighed, smoothing a hand over her dress. Rowan tracked the movement, his hand reaching out and resting on her stomach.

“You’ve gotten so big,” Rowan said, awe in his voice. If it hadn’t been for his pure amazement Aelin might have hit him, but he quickly realised his mistake, glancing up with a shy smile. “You know what I mean.”

She did. The last time she had seen Rowan, Aelin was really just starting to pop. Now she had a defined 23 week old bump. There had been some necessary wardrobe updates and she only saw more in the imminent future.

Aelin was never more thankful for her choice of couch. The seat was deep and the cushions were soft—it made her impending plans all that much easier. Tired of being so far away from Rowan, she shuffled over and despite the baby between them she manoeuvred herself to sit straddling his lap. Rowan was more than accommodating, helping her until they were both comfortable. It was a little difficult but thanks to Rowan’s hulkish size it made things easier, and Aelin managed to rest her head on his shoulder. 

“I missed you so much,” she sighed. 

“I missed you too,” Rowan said. 

Then he tilted her head up and kissed her and Aelin was cursing herself for crying and not getting to this sooner. She ran her hands over his shoulders, his neck, wanting him closer like she would never have to let him go again. Rowan wasn’t idle either, his hands were a heavy presence on her thighs, holding her steady as she took everything she needed from him. Aelin could feel the scratch of his stubble under her fingers and her lips as she kissed a path to his neck. She would have kept going but the baby moving startled her out of her plans.

Aelin sat back, hand on her stomach. “That still feels so weird.”

Rowan’s hand followed to cover hers. “I still won’t be able to feel it, right?”

”Not for a couple more weeks, but I know that won’t stop you from trying,” Aelin said. 

The smile that Rowan gave her had Aelin’s heart lodging in her throat and she was crying again.

“I’m fine,” Aelin assured her husband before he started fussing again. “It’s the hormones, I’m crying at everything these days.”

Rowan’s chuckle was light, refraining from wording the teasing that was in his eye. Then his expression turned thoughtful, head tilting as he looked at the door. 

“Why did you lock the door?” He asked. “You’ve never bothered before and we’ve been interrupted so many times. We have literally traumatised Lorcan.”

Aelin couldn’t look her husband in the eye and hoped he didn’t notice the flush on her cheeks. Being caught out about her crying session shouldn’t be this embarrassing. But she was so dedicated to keeping up the appearance that she was one hundred percent okay while he was away, she didn’t want him to know about this. 

“Aelin,” Rowan said, the name half scolding and half pleading. 

Aelin sighed, her head tilting to the ceiling. “I locked it so no one would walk in on me crying my eyes out.”

”Fireheart,” Rowan said sadly, like that admission broke his heart. 

“I just missed you so much.” Aelin looked at him and brought her hands to rest on his shoulders. “I just needed a good cry to make myself feel better.”

“Well, I’m here now,” Rowan said resolutely before his voice dropped lower in a way that had Aelin leaning closer on instinct. “Let me make you feel better.”

This time when Rowan kissed her, Aelin held nothing back. Nothing would distract them now, not when they were about to get utterly lost in each other. Today might not have started out terribly, but it was ending much better than Aelin could have ever predicted.

~~~~~

Thanks for reading!

[octuscle]

Hi there, its been a long time since I used this app. I got a new phone a few weeks back and when I reinstalled the app it restored me to my original hairy skinny fit body. I didn't have time to mess around with any changes during my exam season and then I completely forgot I even had the app downloaded. The other day I got a notification about a "special birthday offer" I opened the app and accepted but it just took me to a page that said Mode: Bodybuilder [Freak] Muscle Size Transformation: Extreme [increase] Height Size Increase 6.3ft >>> 8ft Stench/Body Odour: Extreme [increase] Sweat Level: 24hr Overdrive Intelligence Transformation: Moronic Oaf [extreme decrease]

I can't do anything with the app anymore whenever I open it now it just says "your transformation is pending, recommend purchase before transformation: size 7XL underwear"

Damn, which rookie was at work during the preset? If you do not do everything yourself! The physical transformation is waiting for a damn pair of underpants. And the mental transformation is already underway. Is almost already completed. Let's see what I can still save there.

Oh, you're almost at the "moronic oaf" already. So simpler sentences: Take your sports bag. Go to the gym. The address of the gym is on the bag.

So here we go. First, let's take the setting "Adapt the environment to the transformation". Then you don't have to worry about the fucking underpants. And then I'll organize a training session at the gym. After that, your birthday present should be ready.

Fuck, you are not small. But your trainer is a colossus against you. But already during the warm-up training you catch up. You get off the treadmill at eye level. And shit, you really sweat like a bull. And to be honest: You smell like one, too. While doing lat pull-downs, you can watch your back getting wider and wider. Your moans become deeper and more animalistic grunts with each repetition. You let the weights fall down with a crashing scream. Bruh, you are huge!

During the bench press, the first tattoos appear. Your clean-shaven chin disappears under a well-trimmed beard. And your just almost knee-length pants are barely able to cover your dick completely. Especially during the squats. You've outgrown your trainer in the meantime. In the parking lot, your hybrid compact car has turned into a monster truck. You live in an old warehouse, because in normal apartments the ceiling is simply much too low. And you earn your money as a building cleaner. In most rooms you can clean all the windows without a ladder.

Your workout is finished with situps. With your hands behind your head, you notice how your armpits smell of sweat. You get a hard-on from the smell. And your trainer gets a boner from the sight of your boner. Fuck, he can almost give you a blowjob standing up.

Bruh, you are one of the big boys now. Happy birthday! Was that what you wanted? You have deserved it in any case. At least for a few days.

[avelera]

I've been talking with a few people irl about the TikTok ban and I was wondering if I could get your take on it? (iirc you work in election security). Mainly I'd like to know why TikTok/China is *uniquely* bad wrt dating mining/potential election interference when we've seen other companies/governments do the same thing (thinking of the Russian psyops here on Tumblr in 2016). It feels like the scope is so narrow that it doesn't come close to targeting the root problem (user privacy and data mining as a whole), leading me to think it's only point is "ooh China Scary". Thoughts? (No worries if you'd rather not get into it, I just thought of you as someone who might have more insight/informed opinions on the matter).

So I'm not really familiar with all the details of the case and certainly not all the details of the bill. But I will give my perspective:

TikTok as a particular threat to users' data and privacy has been known for some time in the cybersecurity world. US government employees and contractors have been straight-up forbidden to have it on their phones for some time now. I, for example, have never had it on my phone because of these security concerns. (Worth noting, I'm not a government employee or contractor, it was just a known-to-be dangerous app in the cybersecurity world so I avoided it.)

This is because the parent company, as I understand, has known connections to the Chinese government that have been exploited in the past. For example, to target journalists.

Worth noting, another app that would potentially be on the chopping block is WeChat, which also has close ties to (or is outright owned by?) the Chinese government. This is just speculation on my part but it's based on the fact that all the concerns around TikTok are there for WeChat too and it has also been banned on government devices in some states, so I imagine it would be next if the bill passes.

I think this is important to note because I've seen some hot takes here on Tumblr have said that the entire case against TikTok is made up and there is no security threat. That is simply not true. The concerns have been there for a while.

However, the question of what to do about it is a thorny one.

The determination seems to be that so long as TikTok is still owned by its parent company with its direct ties to the Chinese government, there really is no way to guarantee that it's safe to use. From that angle, demanding that the company sever ties and set up some form of local ownership makes sense.

I am not a lawyer, but, that being said, forcing them to sell their local operations to a locally-based buyer is a pretty invasive and unusual step for legislators to take against a private company, even in a clear case of spying. I'm sure TikTok's widespread popularity is a big part of the threat it poses, which lends to the argument used to justify such an extreme step. (Because it is on so many phones, it really could be a danger to national security.)

That said, at one point young activists on TikTok embarrassed Trump (lots of good context in this article) while he was campaigning in 2020, and there was some talk then about shutting it down which seemed pretty clearly linked to how it was used as a platform to organize against him. I'm sure there's at least some right wing antipathy towards the app that has a political basis going back to this event. Trump signed an executive order banning it, the ban going into effect got bogged down in the courts, and then Biden rescinded that executive order when he got into office, pending an investigation into the threat it posed.

Those investigations seem to have further confirmed that the Chinese government is getting access to US user data through the app, and further confirmed it as a security threat.

Now, to muddy the waters further, there's several dodgy investment funds including one owned by former Secretary of the Treasury to Trump Steven Mnuchin that are circling with an interest to buy TikTok if it does sell. That's very concerning.

Funds like Mnuchin's interest in purchasing TikTok (even though they do invest in other technologies too, so it is in their portfolio) definitely makes the motivations behind the sale look pretty damning as momentum builds, that it could be some sort of money grab here in the US.

China has also pointed out that forcing the sale of a company because of spying concerns like this opens a whole can of worms. If China thinks that, say, Microsoft is spying on their citizens, could they force the US company to sell its operations in China to a Chinese investor? Could they force Google? Could they even further polarize the internet in general between "free" and "not free" (as in, behind the great Chinese or Russian firewall, as examples) if this precedent is set, so that no Western companies can operate in authoritarian states without selling their local operations there to a government-controlled organization, and thus be unable protect their users there? Or, if you don't have so rosy a view of Western companies, could it effectively deal a blow to international trade in general by saying you have to have to sell any overseas arms of a company to someone who is from there? Again, I'm not a lawyer, but this is a hell of a can of worms to open.

But again, this is muddy because China absolutely is spying on TikTok users. The security reason for all of this is real. What to do about it is the really muddled part that has a ton of consequences, and from that angle I agree with people who are against this bill. Tons of bad faith consequences could come out of it. But the concerns kicking off the bill are real.

[arcadia-of-pluto]

Future mini-series and one-shot plans ✨️

I've got a few ideas for one-shots and fics to tide yall over until the smut hits in "Twist of Fate". 👀

I've already got a small, spin off mini-series of ToF called "Strings of Fate" (name pending), a whole bunch of hybrid one-shot series, a Fated/Soulmate one-shot series, a Tropes mini-series, a cam girl one-shot series, an android (based on Detroit become human) one-shot series, a fairy tale one-shot series, possibly a professors one-shot series, possibly a super heroes one-shot series, some possible OT2 (threesomes) and OT3 (foursomes) with not a single idea in mind, and some one-shots regarding the boys' myth 5 star cards!

I'll be explaining them below the cut! 🩷

So yall can let me know which you would like to see first, I'll tell you what I've got so far with each of them! Since I'm, also, completely unsure which I want to work on or if I want to change the idea entirely. Maybe yall will have some thoughts on how I can work the ideas a bit better as well!

I can't say much on the spin-off since it's major spoilers for ToF and, so, I'll probably start it after I get up to 25 or 30 chapters in posting ToF.

The hybrid ideas though...I have a lot. I got most of these (if not all of these ideas besides the hybrid ones) from my scrapped BTS fic ideas so if I decide to write BTS ones, you might see some overlapping.

Oh right, let me explain Hybrids for those who might not know. They're basically like nekos, think of those hot cat girls in anime. They're humans with animal parts or characteristics!

But anyway, the first section is "Prey Hybrids". I have Rafayel down as an axolotl, Xavier as a frosty Holland lop rabbit, Sylus as either a sika deer or a tufted deer (both are native to south asia and I have no idea which one to use), and Zayne as a Black Beauty sugar glider.

Next section is "deadly hybrids". I have Rafayel under Great White Shark (they have two penises so I could use this in the story), Xavier as a Grey Wolf (wolves can knot 👀), Sylus as a melanistic tiger, and Zayne is a leopard seal. Now, I'm not sure how I'll make Zayne into a leopard seal hybrid, I was going to use a snow leopard but...I have a "polar hybrid" section coming up soon and also I didn't want two big cats in one part.

Now, we're onto "domesticated hybrids" so think of your cats, dogs, any animal that humans have thought "hey, that'd be a good pet" fits here. Rafayel is a calico koi fish (still undecided here), Xavier is a Corgi (I thought golden retriever but I didn't want to say the obvious), Sylus is a black smoke Maine Coon, and Zayne as an Agouti Husky.

"Uncanny Hybrids" is our next category and for uncanny, I wanted to do hybrids that not a lot of people write for. Like you usually see cats, dogs, octopi, sharks, squid, and stuff like that so I wanted to do the ones that not many people would do and that's difficult. Rafayel would be a chevrotain (which is a mouse deer with little fangs), Xavier would (fittingly) be a sloth, Sylus would be a vampire bat, and Zayne would be a Kangaroo (I might swap Sylus and Zayne but do note that Kangaroo have two penises as well; and I have no idea how to explain to my FBI agent just why my search history is filled with stuff like this but I must do my research for stories 😞).

Two more categories. We have "Polar hybrids" as mentioned earlier and "Mythological Hybrids".

For the polar ones, Rafayel is an arctic fox, Xavier is a penguin, Sylus is a snow owl, and Zayne is a polar bear!

As for the mythological, it's half unfinished. I only have Rafayel as a kitsune and Sylus as a cerberus/hellhound hybrid with Y/n being the daughter of Hades.

The Fated/Soulmate series! I'm unsure what to call this exactly. I might have it under "Fated mini-series" but it's going to be four different one-shots with each of the guys under a different soulmate trope. So you can give me feedback about this as well or even comment something you'd want to see instead or even help add upon the idea itself!

Rafayel's soulmate trope would be the "colourblind until you touch" trope. Where everyone is colourblind until you meet your soulmate but for an added twist, the first touch from your soulmate leaves an imprint wherever they touched. So, for example, Rafayel grabs your arm as you try to leave and it leaves a pretty, water-coloured imprint on your wrist. I think that would be a fitting and cute combination for Rafayel.

Xavier's soulmate trope would either be "dreams of a past life together", so you both dream of your past life and have to find the person in your dreams, or "at a young age, you can make something and send it to your soulmate. This item will be key in finding your soulmate as an adult." So, let's say you send Xavier the star sword tassel and he sends you a crystal (imagine the protocore he tries to give the mc in his anecdotes). Then, as adults, you see Xavier walking to class with the charm on his backpack while your grandma, Josephine, turned the crystal into a necklace. Edit; this has been changed to a "tattoo mark" appearing when making contact with your soulmate annnnd the guideverse (so think espers and guides)

Zayne's is, by far, my favourite idea. It's "once you touch your soulmate, you get opposing evols". So similar to "opposites attract". You're childhood friends with Zayne and for some reason (spoilers), you wear gloves so you can touch anyone. Zayne also wears gloves in solidarity with you but, one day, he forgets his gloves and catches you when you slip. His hands touch your bare elbows and suddenly, he has an ice evol and yours is fire. For some extra angst, fire is traumatic for you and so is the thought of soulmates.

Sylus's is more of a funny idea than anything. A "tangible red string of fate" so similar to the evol linkage in game. He can drag you around with it and everything. It gets more visible and stronger the more you think about the other person, so at first its barely even noticeable and he can't move you with it. But soon, he can literally drag you out with him and you can play a funny game of tug-of-war with it. Edit; I really want to change this one so i might hold a voting for it as well

I also had the fleeting idea of grumpy x sunshine but that's more of a "trope" than a soulmate trope.

I also have another good fate idea for Rafayel, a stand-alone one. This soulmate au would be "your soulmate is from another world and you get dreams of their day-to-day life. You must decide if you'll cross over to their world by your 23rd birthday and, if you choose not to, you'll lose your connection to them." In this au, Rafayel would be the God of the Sea and you would be an average person. Rafayel would be more than willing to leave his life for his soulmate but as the last God of the Sea...You end up making the decision for him.

The Tropes mini-series;

So this one is a four-shot with an accumulation of tropes. So each LADS boy will have a one-shot of a different trope. Like friends to lovers, rivals to lovers, etc.

I could've went the obvious route and chose Zayne or Xavier as childhood friends to lovers but I didn't want the easy way out to be honest.

The trope I chose for Rafayel is "amnesia". You've lost your memory and woke up in the hospital with a man seated next to you. His hand desperately gripping your own as if he were a balloon about to fly away. "Uh...hello?" You ask, your throat feeling dry as if you hadn't spoken in weeks. "Y/n!?" The man jerks awake with wide eyes. Tears flood his waterline and he gently cups your face. You can feel his hands trembling and you tilt your head to the side, confused, "Are you...my boyfriend?" "What-" Rafayel looked confused, but it only takes a few seconds before he nods, "Yes. I'm Rafayel, your boyfriend."

In actuality, you're his bodyguard and you got injured trying to protect him. He lies to you because he doesn't want you to put yourself in danger for him anymore.

Edit; this one has since been changed to "love at first sight" + reincarnation + slight enemies to lovers

Xavier's trope is a complete flip on what you would originally expect. I chose "rivals to lovers" for him, just because I had a small idea where he could be a lightseeker and you would be the other faction. (I forgot the names of the knights on Philo, they're from Xavier's lightseeker myth if you're confused) But you also get annoyed with Xavier because he keeps putting off his princely duties. Annnnd it would be funny to call him "Princess". I have since changed mind and Xavier's "Pragma(tic) Love" is out now!

Zayne's trope is also not "friends to lovers". Instead I thought "forbidden love". This one is a bit of a stretch and I can tweak it if it's unliked but this would be a fantasy au where Zayne is from the Kingdom of Linkon and he's a saint blessed by Astra (the God from his Forseer myth) and you are a princess from the Kingdom of Philo. You were blessed by the Goddess Lux (I made her up and her name means light) and you've come to Linkon's Kingdom to possibly marry their prince, Greyson (I didn't want to use a love interest for this role), and unite the kingdoms. Instead you, a princess from a kingdom who doesn't believe in Astra, and Zayne, a follower of Astra, fall in love. Also, Zayne's powers cannot affect you because of Lux's blessing, which gives you the ability to resonate (make other's powers stronger), heal, and create a ball of light so hot that it feels like fire itself. Edit; this one has been changed to "brother's best friend" <3

Now, Sylus is our friends to lovers! A modern au friends to lovers where your mother is a top operative in Onychinus, a crime syndicate led by Sylus's parents. You meet while young (but not too young) and have a seven year age gap. You've always had a crush on Sylus, since you were little, and Sylus possibly does but he avoids thinking about it because of your age difference. At 30, he feels like he's way too old for you, at 23 in this. Now, to not make it weird, your mother passes away and you're sent to your grandma, Josephine's to live a better life away from all the crime. You grow up there from highschool, all the way until college when disaster strikes. On your way home for springbreak with Caleb, your friend- who your grandmother took in, your home explodes. The blast kills both Caleb and your grandma. This was clearly an attack by a rival gang and Sylus steps in to take you back to Onychinus.

Edit; this one has been changed as well, I'm unsure of what just yet though, but there's a voting for what it could be! (Sept 2, 2024)

I hope you guys aren't tired of this by now! But either way, I'll keep going since I'm not done yet. I just wanna put my ideas out there and figure out which I should be working on as I post my weekly chapters for "Twist of Fate".

The next category is the "camgirl" mini-series. This one was a must-have to add because I've read so many BTS camgirl one-shots and loved them so much. I doubt any of the four guys would ever want their love on camera for everyone to see but they might not mind as much if they're on screen with her...

So for Sylus, I already have a name. I came up with it at work- "Welcome to the Puppet Show".

The idea is as follows, "Sylus strings you up like a puppet with his evol during one of your weekly cam-sessions." That's it. That's all I got.

For the rest, Xavier's would be the usual. He's your childhood friend and he recently gifted you a necklace for your birthday. His friend, Jeremiah, tells him about this camgirl website and jokingly shows him a few videos. After this, Xavier has been watching your lives for a while now until he notices something peculiar in today's session. You're wearing the necklace he gave you. He instantly knows it's you because he got the necklace custom made and he confronts you about it.

Rafayel is a tattoo artist and he recently gave you a tattoo. It was a pretty unique one so he'd never forget what it looked like, especially where you had it done. A cute, little koi fish ying-yang under your breast. He sees the tattoo in one of your cam-sessions and I'm not sure how you would meet up after that, if I'm honest so let's move on to Zayne.

Zayne is your partner during your cam-shows. He's your close friend from school and once he learnt of your cam-shows, he casually offers to be a part of them for when your fans get tired of your solo lives. He's always only lent a hand, never actually fucking you. Neither on camera nor off. But on your final live, you ask him to fuck you. This is your final live because you're planning on confessing your feelings for him afterward.

Now, we're onto the most unsure one of all; the Android mini-series.

The Android mini-series is, once again, solo one-shots compiled into a series. This series was heavily taken from an old bts mini-series I had. Like Rafayel's would've been Taehyung's (his model would've been the Vante KTH7-1230), Xavier's would've been Jimin's (his model would've been PJM7-1013), Zayne's would've been Namjoon's (his model being Holmes 2.0 KNJ7-0912), and Sylus's would've been Yoongi's (his model being OG Holmes MYG7-0309). So, I might change Zayne and Sylus's models because I might want to write this idea for bts in the future, but just let me know if you want to see it and I'll make some changes!

For Rafayel's, you were fully colourblind when you were younger but you were deadset on becoming an artist. Your grandma, Josephine, had always wanted the best for you so she worked many days of overtime at her job until she could finally afford a corrective surgery- but only for one eye. You've gotten the surgery, which was replacing your original eye with an android one so now you have one e/c (eye colour) eye and one magenta eye. Later on in life, you were finally in college for an art degree and your professor gifts you his old android. A Delaux model (the model is named after a famous artist who painted mermaids) with the ID number RF04-0306. The Delaux model of androids are used to help artists with colour correction and matching, give input on what would sell best or look more appealing to buyers, and even give an artist ideas for artworks or create compelling backstories that their artwork could be based upon. All Delaux androids have unnatural coloured hair since it's against their coding to have nature hair because it's normal and therefore boring for such an artsy android model. Rafayel is the only Delaux model with his hair colour.

Next up is Xavier. He's a Lux model android with the ID XV04-1016. Lux model androids are primarily used as an assist for the military and police force as replacements for the K-9 unit, so they're lithe and light on their feet. These models always have blonde or silver hair if they work for the police and black hair if they're affiliated with the military. If they have any different hair colour, then the Lux model is considered defective and is terminated. These models cannot be kept by the public because they're a higher caliber of android, unless they are protecting a rich client. For your story, you find him in an alleyway or maybe a garbage dump and he's half destroyed. You decide to bring him home to your mechanic shop (your home is above the shop) to repair him. Once your power him on, he remembers nothing so you decide to keep him around- almost as if he's a stray dog. Also, in this story, you have an android arm. For this one, I'm 100% sure if I want him to be a military android but it makes sense for him. It was either this or a sex worker android and I feel like that doesn't fit with him..

Zayne is a Holmes 2.0 model android with the ID number ZY04-0905. The one and only Holmes model in existence since the last one was shut down because it was ruled compromised (or deviant) after a various amount of tests. The Holmes model is a less animalistic version of the Lux model; These androids are more intuitive and less likely to instigate conflict. Black hair is their only choice of hair colour, anything else and they will be decommissioned. In this, you are a damn good detective. The best there ever was...until your accident. You miscalculated an explosion radius during your last big mission and it costed you big time. You ended up losing both an arm and a leg. Your boss (the chief of police) compensated you for your injuries. He provided you with an android arm and leg to replace what you had lost and a brand new Holmes 2.0 model android to be your little sidekick for the next few months, until you can get used your new limbs. This would be his first official test run before the EVER corporation created more of his model. But you hated it. You felt useless to your team and you felt less human with your new android add-ons. You pretty much took out your anger on your newly acquired android because they gave you an android to solve a problem that an android caused in the first place! Damn defective android almost killed you, all because it "didn't want to die". I love the premise of this but Holmes doesn't fit with Zayne's aesthetic. I can always swap him to a medical assistance android where Y/n has a heart condition and Zayne is her android that takes care of her but it's up to yall! If I change Zayne, I have to change Sylus's though because their models go hand in hand for the story.

And lastly, we have Sylus. He...can't remember his model name but he knows his ID number, SL04-0418. Though, every time he looks up his ID number, he gets no results. Nothing. It's almost as if his model never existed or...it was decommissioned. That would mean he's defective and he doesn't want to admit that. He doesn't want to be shut down. After searching, he soon learns that he might be the original Holmes model but...it's not like he can just ask anyone, they'd shut him down if he asked..right?

You have worked in the big, shiny and glaringly white EVER corporation building for years at this point, creating and customizing many androids that are constantly in every day use. You painstakingly detailed everything about these androids from their faces to even their personalities and the very first Holmes model was no exception. You grew very close to this android during the years of designing and creating him, you even gave him a name. Sylus. He was one of your favourites, out of all of your creations, and...he was decommissioned. You honestly never thought you'd see him again until you were brought in to shut him down and you couldn't bring yourself to do it. You had loosely based his looks on an old friend whom you had a one-sided crush on. From his hair to his eyebrows, his physique and even the scar on his chest. You were able to take full creative liberties with the very first Holmes model android because, well, it was the first in existence. But now, he's just called a failed prototype. You made him too...human. Too independent and strong willed. This wasn't the designated personality for a Holmes model android and this ultimately led to a cop becoming gravely injured on Sylus's first mission. The negligence caused by your own hand haunts your every day because you could've killed someone. It would've been your fault, after all. But now with that android, your android, standing right in front of you once more...You can't seem to let him go. You can't lose him, not for a second time. You're willing to throw your whole job away to protect him, sick and tired of androids being treated horribly just because they're becoming self aware and more human. So again, let me know if you like this idea and if you do, I hope you won't mind if I end up re-hashing it when I possibly make my bts android mini-series <3 because I genuinely can't think of anything that works with Sylus. Nothing else really makes sense but I'm also unsure of how the story would go with this one 🤔

I think we're at the half-way point! This is where it goes downhill to be honest. The only good one here is the first one, I feel, but if I thought about it more, I'm sure I'd find better ideas for the other guys.

Rafayel's fairy tale story is quite obvious. It's "The Little Mermaid" but flipped. You would be Eric and Rafayel would be Ariel, however Eric would be the one wanting to be part of Ariel's world. You've seen him in the ocean multiple times from your beach house. Honestly, the first time you saw him, you thought he was drowning but then you saw the beautiful purple and blue tail fin that adorned his lower half. He was...a mermaid? Every day for a few weeks, you'd take some time out of your day just to watch him breach the surface and play around with the seagulls. He would sometimes sit atop driftwood and large boulders in the ocean. He was a sight to behold. And then, he began to take notice of you. Eventually, the two of you begin engaging in conversation- but not before he accuses you of wanting to fillet him like a fish. As the two of you grow close and he tells you stories about his home, Lemuria, you decide you want to be a part of his world. You find a traveling witch and she gives you an ultimatum. You can become a mermaid to live with Rafayel but you must give something up equal in return. Now, the tricky part is, I'm not sure what I want for Y/n to lose. I don't want it to be her voice, her eyesight, her emotions, so I'm thinking maybe she gains a heart condition so she can be with him but not for a long time. Though, this heart condition can be cured with an act of passion. An action that would tug on anyone's heart strings would be enough to snap the strings of Y/n's heart back into place. Also some mermaids are depicted with two penises so...Yeah!

Xavier's is yet another obvious one. I decided to go with "Sleeping Beauty" but I can always change it if I can find a better one. On the day the little prince was born, a warlock appeared and let out a cackle, "I shall curse the sole heir to Philo's throne. This kingdom has brought many sufferings to warlocks and witches alike and it shall be brought down by the prince himself!" The warlock, named Luminous (I came up with that on the spot but it's a parallel to Maleficent and Lumiere) also cursed the king and queen with infertility so they couldn't just have another child. And so, on Prince Xavier's 23rd birthday, Luminous reappeared and unsealed the curse upon the prince. Thorns erupted through the banquet hall, wrapping around the entire castle, and whomever was pricked by the thorns fell into a deep slumber. 50 years have passed since the kingdom of Philo fell into a deep slumber and you, a witch who was also childhood friends with the prince, decide to sneak into the castle and plunder it for any treasures it may hold. While searching, you prick your finger on a thorn and panic, thinking you will also succumb to the curse. However, you don't. This could be because you're a witch or because you're just the protagonist. Either way, this leads you to believe that you could wake Xavier up and this option would pave the way for more money in the future so it's your best opportunity for some quick wealth. As you head over to Xavier, pondering on how you could wake him up, you end up tripping over something on the floor and you land on top of him. Your lips crashing into his and you can taste your own blood. Congrats, you've awoken sleeping beauty! :D

Sylus's story...I'm torn between "Rapunzel" and "The Beauty and the Beast". He's got the Flynn Ryder aesthetic but also the Beast's at the same time so once I come up with a storyline, I'll probably make my decision.

Zayne's is also another hard decision. I could go for the obvious "Frozen" or perhaps Mulan. I'll explain my Frozen storyline though since that's all I've got. So Zayne is Elsa and you have the power of fire. (I haven't seen Frozen 2 but I think there's a girl who wields fire in it?) You don't know that you have this power and you were a princess who was just banished from your Kingdom, Philo, due to the false charge of trying to murder your step mother, the queen. You were banished from your warm kingdom to a desolate, snowy forest in the Kingdom of Linkon. And here, you stumble upon Zayne's ice castle that he created with his powers. Now, the story behind your false charges is, your step mother went from a mistress to a queen after your mother passed away and your step mother got rid of you because she wants her son, the king's non-bilogical, to be next in line for the throne instead of you. So, instead of fighting your way to go back home, you convince Zayne to allow you to stay in his castle until the snow storm outside subsides and you can leave. Soon, you learn of your fire powers and Zayne offers to aid you in learning how to use them. Also, Zayne's younger brother Greyson (He is Ana here) and his girlfriend Yvonne (She is Kristoff) are the rulers of Linkon because Zayne locked himself away in the castle in fear that his powers would hurt someone.

Here's where the ideas get less and less detailed. This was another mini-series taken from my old bts ones and honestly, I might not even write these but I thought it would be nice to add them here just in case.

Zayne would be an English professor with you as his teaching assistant. Even though you're an assistant, you also do some classwork to bide your time when you're not busy and even turn it in to Zayne to have him 'grade' it. This week's essay for a romance essay and you decided to write a steamy little romance essay for fun and submit it to Zayne after class. A week passes by and you're worried he either saw it and didn't care or he's going to mention it when you leave expect it- which he does the latter. He's intrigued at how knowledgeable and intimate the scenes are, and questions if you've done something like this before. You respond that you're a virgin and Zayne asks, "Would you like to feel how your essay would play out?"

For Rafayel, I'd do the obvious choice of an Art Professor with you as his teaching assistant (you're always the teaching assistance because Professor x student feels a bit icky to me, just the power dynamic and everything. I'm not too into writing it). Anyway, he needs you to be a model for a painting but never tells you just what kind of model.

Sylus's could be a physical education professor, I'm not sure if that's even a type of professor? (I didn't go to college so I wouldn't know) but I'm on the fence about this one. I could base it loosely off of his boxing 5 star card.

Xavier would be the Theatre/Drama professor and he needs you to be his supporting actress for rehearsals. Maybe you both are participating in a big play with the students and you need to practice your lines?

Because these ones are specifically so short, I'm not going to add a break in-between. It feels unnecessary but the next idea is superheroes. Honestly since I love Spiderman so much, I might make them all spiderman but for now...here's the ideas.

Xavier would be Lumiere (comparable to Spiderman), Rafayel would be spiderman (because I don't want to write aquaman-), Zayne could be winter soldier, and Sylus might fit as Iron Man. So in these stories, you'd be Iron man's secretary (so think Pepper), spiderman's best friend, lumiere's biggest fan and probably a reporter, and I'm drawing a blank on winter soldier.

The superhero one is honestly my weakest link when it comes to these one-shots but I really want to give it a shot.

Then, the actual one-shots that wouldn't be in series's would be all of their 5 star myth cards but reimagined. So I wouldn't write them word for word, just loosely base them on it.

The only example I have is for the Sea God myth.

So in this story, you're still an orphan being raised by the emissaries as a sacrifice for the Sea God but you have grandma Josephine, who was a clergy woman at the church you were confined to. She would tell you all kinds of stories about Lemuria and the people who lived under the deep sea. Then, on your 19th birthday, she passes away and shortly after, you were thrown into the sea as a sacrifice for the Sea God. I set the age at 18/19 just because Rafayel's coming of age ceremony to become the Sea God is within the 5 star myth cards and usually your coming of age ceremony (at least in ro-fan manhwas) is around the age of 16 to 19.

Annnnd that should be it! I really wanted to add my space/alien! Bts au since I really like it and will more than likely write it in the future, but this isn't a bts post so I don't want to write about them too much here but if you want to hear about it then I might make a separate post about it!

With that being said, I hope you enjoyed reading through my ideas for the future and have some that you're looking forward to! Other than that, my next post will be Chapters Six and Seven for "Twist of Fate" on late Friday or sometime Saturday! I don't have an exact time since I'll have to cross-post to both wattpad and AO3 but it'll be one of those two days. I'll possibly even post chapter eight as well, but I'm not too sure yet since I'm writing chapter twenty and I don't want to post too many chapters at once. I'll see y'all once more on friday/saturday! 🩷

[livingformintyoongi]

Guilty As Sin? | Kim Taehyung x Reader [Preview]

a/n: Hello everyone! Sorry I've been gone for so long, I just started my first semester of architecture in August and I've barely had any free time :( it's been too stressful and it's too hard to have time to do anything but make plans or draw trees lol. Anyway, as I feel a bit guilty for not uploading anything for a few months, I'm bringing a little shot I wrote a few days ago as an apology while I try to finish the request I have pending. Please be patient with me <3

Warnings: Doctor!Taehyung x Doctor!reader, slight smut at the start, very little angst at the end. This is not finished as such. It's based on the song “Guilty as sin?” by Taylor Swift, it's just a little preview of the initial idea I had to write.

wc: 929

Taglist: @thunderg @minjianhyung @queenv1997 @yoongtism @lizzymizzy-blogg @superbbananananana @drpepperobsessed @themwordsblog @taekritimin123 @bluecloudss @yooglefics

You closed your eyes tightly, feeling an electric current travel from your head to the tips of your toes; your hands clutching at the sheets beneath you, your toes curling as your back curved, your chest colliding with his chest, both burning, both covered lightly in a layer of sweat from the exertion and heat that enveloped them.

“Does that feel good?” he whispered in a deep voice, licking a path from the center of your breasts to your chin. A proud smile took place on his face as you answered him with halting moans and desperate gasps. 

You had never felt so good in your whole life before, you wanted to tell him that, but it was so hard to make him understand your lips to utter that phrase. 

“M-more” you whispered, bringing one of your hands up to his hair, clinging to it as if your life depended on it. Taehyung's lips enveloped yours in a passionate kiss, his hips crashing into yours desperately, wanting to climax just as fast as you did. The sensation was so suffocating and addictive at the same time; you wanted it to end soon so you could ease the knot in your belly, but you didn't want it to stop either, you wanted it to cloud your every sense until you forgot your own name.

“Y/N” he growled against your neck, his hands clinging to your waist, keeping you as still as possible as he rammed harder. You clenched your jaw, trying futilely to keep your sighs of pleasure from escaping your throat. 

“Y/N” he said again, but this time it was different. His voice didn't sound as deep, and his grip on your waist was gone. Hands - smaller than the ones that gripped your waist - lightly gripped your shoulders, moving them back and forth as you listened as that much softer voice called your name.

Slit eyes and black hair was the first thing that greeted you when you opened your eyes. You sat up in bed lazily, observing the place around you. You were still in your room, there was sunlight filtering through the curtains, your body was wrapped by your sheets and pajamas and most importantly, you didn't have Taehyung on top of you fucking you. 

“You fell asleep” Hyunjin muttered, getting up from the edge of the bed he was sitting on to go back to his closet. He was wearing a suit - most likely a branded one - that covered his body perfectly, marking his slightly broad shoulders and small waist, it was very likely that, if he stretched a bit, his muscles would show through his shirt, a rather dangerous combination considering the vipers that worked with him in his father's company. 

You still remembered how, when he first got his position, you were quite annoyed at how the models he worked with threw themselves at him every chance they got; now, however, it didn't seem to hurt like it did in the beginning, you just got tired of asking him to push them away, you got bored of having to wait for him to decide to tell all those tall, thin and beautiful women that he had a girlfriend. 

“Yes...” you mumbled, still sitting on the bed, watching as his body went back and forth from the closet to the mirror, trying on different ties to see which one would fit him best. “The green one I like” you looked at him through the mirror, hugging your knees. “Green is a nice color, don't you think?”.

“I don't like it” he replied after a few seconds, going back to the closet to pull out a black tie. He always wore the same stupid tie, why try on so many if he would go back to the same one, “I hate that color, it's hideous.”

“I like it” you whispered, looking at your toenails. They were the same color as his tie. It was the same tie you bought for your fourth anniversary. You painted your nails that color just so you could match him. “Why-?”

“Don't wear that color,” he stepped closer to you, extending his tie in your direction, “it wouldn't look good on you.” His hand stayed outstretched until you took the tie and began arranging it around his neck. You wondered for a second if he could tell how much you wanted to cry right now. Probably not. “I'll be late today” As usual, “don't wait up for me” I stopped doing that months ago, “Oh, and try not to fall asleep with your clothes on, it's annoying to have to be changing after a long day at work”.

“Yeah, sorry” you mumbled, finishing tying the knot in his tie. You tried to swallow the knot that had begun to form in your throat. Just a little longer, you thought, he's going away.

“I left some things in the kitchen in case you're hungry” he kissed your forehead just before leaving the room, a few seconds later you felt the front door close. Only then you could allow your tears to fall freely down your cheeks. 

You walked slowly to the kitchen, feeling another tightness in your chest as you saw what he had left for you on the table. A white bowl filled with strawberry milk in which floated chunks of whole grain cereal, blueberries and berries. You were allergic to blueberries. You sighed, taking the bowl and wrapping it with allusa so it wouldn't spoil. “It's okay, it's the thought that counts, Y/N” you whispered between hiccups.

Masterlist.

[gallifreyinstituteforlearning]

Honored Institut,

my Time Lord is a bit of a push over and boasts that he can easily jump 4 Meters (13 ft) high even higher when he tries and land safely on the ground again. He is joking, isn't he?

Thank you for your time

How high can a Gallifreyan jump?

Ah, the grand Time Lord boasts—classic. So, your Time Lord claims they can leap 4 metres (13 feet) high and land safely? Let's dive into the facts and see if they're joking or if there's some truth to their claims.

🏋️‍♂️ Gallifreyan Muscles: Strong, but Not Superhuman

Gallifreyan muscle, on the surface, is very similar to human muscle. They don't have any Hulk-like strength, and most Time Lords, given their love for sitting around and brooding over the universe, aren't exactly gym rats. However, their biology does give them a few key advantages:

Denser Muscle Fibres: Gallifreyan muscles are a bit more compact and resilient, making them stronger than they might look.

Stronger Tendons: More collagen in their tendons means fewer injuries and better support for high-impact activities.

Efficient Healing and Energy Use: Their bodies use energy and repair themselves more efficiently than humans, which helps with recovery after intense activity.

So how does this impact their ability to jump/fall?

They'll Jump Higher: With their muscle structure being just a bit better than humans, a Gallifreyan can potentially jump a little higher than a human.

Safely Landing: Although they're not invulnerable, Gallifreyans are biologically better equipped to land from higher jumps/falls.

🤸‍♂️ Could They Actually Jump 4 Metres?

Now, 4 metres is really high. To put this into perspective, Olympic high jumpers on Earth max out around 2.5 metres. So, for a Gallifreyan to hit 4 metres, they'd need some serious assistance.

There is a post-regeneration card they can play: the 'moulding' period, which lasts for up to 8 weeks after regeneration. During moulding, muscles can experience sudden and powerful bursts of strength and stamina that can seem superhuman. In this period, jumping 4 metres might be possible, but I still wouldn't hold my breath.

🏫 So …

Your Time Lord's claim to jump 4 metres? Let's call it a stretch. While they're certainly more durable and stronger than humans, leaping 13 feet into the air is a bit much, even for them. But hey, maybe after a good regeneration boost and a fortunate wind, they could pull off something close.

Related:

🤔|💪🏃How fast can a Gallifreyan run?

🤔|🧠���Why do Gallifreyans have such good hand-eye coordination?

🤔|🦴✨What’s one of the vulnerabilities of a freshly-regenerated Gallifreyan?

Hope that helped! 😃

Any orange text is educated guesswork or theoretical. More content ... →📫Got a question? | 📚Complete list of Q+A and factoids →📢Announcements |🩻Biology |🗨️Language |🕰️Throwbacks |🤓Facts → Features: ⭐Guest Posts | 🍜Chomp Chomp with Myishu →🫀Gallifreyan Anatomy and Physiology Guide (pending) →⚕️Gallifreyan Emergency Medicine Guides →📝Source list (WIP) →📜Masterpost If you're finding your happy place in this part of the internet, feel free to buy a coffee to help keep our exhausted human conscious. She works full-time in medicine and is so very tired 😴

[immeasurablesaladagere]

salad ur so awesome can i pls request a little!chase fic with cg!wilson and cg!house? thank u 🙏 appreciate u

I had a lot of fun with this one! Sorry it took so long haha, I have like 8 fic requests pending 0-0

-----

Word Count: 2517

Summery: Chase is having a regressed sleepover at House and Wilson's apartment! There's just one problem, he's having a hard time regressing at all.

-----

After graduating high school, Chase had expected his sleepover days to be over. But now there he stood, outside of his boss’s apartment of all places with a duffle bag of colourful pyjamas, a variety of clothes, his favourite blanket, and his stuffed puppy, Bosco; afraid to knock in case this had really been an elaborate joke at his expense all along.

The offer felt more out of the blue than it probably was. House and Wilson had looked after him multiple times while he was regressed, both at their apartment and, rather embarrassingly, at work, but this felt different. More intrusive, like he was forcing them to take care of him even though it was Wilson who invited him in the first place. The plan was pretty straightforward; Chase would regress and spend the night at their place, doing child things like watching movies and playing with toys and having pancakes for breakfast or something while House and Wilson watched him, and then he’d go home the next day when he was big. If he even stayed regressed that long.

But of course, to do all that he actually had to buck up and knock. He took a deep breath and politely tapped on the door. No one answered at first, and for a second he was worried that he’d misheard the time they’d told him somehow and they were out, but after a few seconds there were footsteps on the other side and the door opened.

“Chase! Right on time, come on in.” Wilson greeted, motioning for him to enter. “You can put your jacket on the hook there.” He did, then toed off his shoes and tucked them neatly by the rack.

“Oh come on, where’s your cute little kangaroo shirt?” House called from the couch.

He glanced down at his plain white T-shirt. He’d considered wearing his little clothes before he left, but decided not to because what if they thought that was weird? He didn’t want to rush it, but maybe that was the wrong choice? “Um… It’s in my bag, I just thought I’d wear my normal stuff for now.”

“Did you not want to get started right away?” Wilson asked, “That’s okay, we can—“

“No, no, it’s fine!” He assured quickly, “I-I just meant for the drive here, I can change if you want.”

They both gave him a considering look that made his cheeks burn. God, could this be more awkward? Wilson nodded. “Yeah, go ahead. You remember where the—?”

“Down the hall, first door. I’ll be right back.” He said quickly, and made his escape to the bathroom. He shut the door behind him and let out a breath. Just relax, mate! They invited you here, it’s fine. It’ll be fine. He changed into the kangaroo shirt and a pair of cargo shorts, and stared at himself in the mirror. House had gifted him the shirt awhile ago; it was white with a red collar and sleeves, and had a big picture of a boxing cartoon kangaroo on the front. Apparently he had ordered it off some website, and it showed; it was hideous, but somehow it was still the shirt he wore most often when he was small. But he wasn’t small yet, and he felt a bit silly standing there.

He crammed his old clothes back into the bag and left the bathroom, only to be met with the dramatic cooing of House.

“Aww, there he is! Don’t you just wanna pinch his cheeks, Wilson?”

Chase rolled his eyes, but smirked. “Where should I put my bag?”

Wilson motioned vaguely at the floor. “Anywhere is fine. We’ll get out the pull-out couch when it’s time for bed tonight.”

“Sure.” He dropped his bag out of the way next to the couch, and then… stood there. Now what? “So…” He started, “How’s this gonna work?”

“We’ve got the box of toys out if you want, we can put on a movie, anything you need to help you regress, and then we’ll look after you from there. We were thinking of ordering a pizza for dinner. Is that okay?” Wilson pointed out the “little box” in the corner, filled with an ever-growing supply of toys, stuffies, books, and art supplies.

“Yeah, that sounds great, um…” There was still one worry that had been nagging at him ever since he’d gotten the invitation. “What if I… can’t regress?”

There was always a chance that even with all of the toys and coddling words in the world, he just wouldn’t be able to be little or stay little. It was a fickle thing. If his regression was triggered then he could never seem to pull himself out it, but when it was his choice he usually couldn’t manage to stay small for more than a few hours without help. And if he couldn’t regress, then what was the point of being there in the first place?

Wilson considered it. “Well, if it comes down to that then you can still stay over if you want. We can just put on the game and have a drink. Whatever happens is okay either way.”

“No, we were going to exile you from the apartment if your brain didn’t decide to play ball,” House snarked. “Wilson’s right, Robbie. Now you can stop standing there like we’re going to jump you and go play. I promise, I won’t bite.”

Robbie. The nervousness soothed a bit, enough for him to walk over to the bin and start sifting through it for something to do. He landed on a farm animal colouring book and a ziplock bag of markers, something easy. A few of the pages had already been filled in, some by him, one by Foreman and a couple by Cameron, each with a distinct “style”. He chuckled to himself. Even Foreman’s colouring pages were stuffy and professional. He flipped to a blank page of a field of cows and started to colour.

He worked at the page for awhile, hoping that eventually the fuzzy feeling would creep in and the his colouring would start drifting outside the lines, but after nearly thirty minutes of colouring, he still wasn’t getting anywhere. Thankfully, House and Wilson didn’t seem fussed either way about what he was doing; Wilson was milling around in the kitchen and House was distracted by his Gameboy, but the silent expectation that he was supposed to be small right now hovered uncomfortably over his head.

He sat up and tossed down the marker he was holding. This should be easier.

House glanced up at him. “Age check?”

“Still twenty-eight.” He grumbled. “This isn’t working.”

“Would it help if I… played with you? Wilson tells me I do a great stuffed-bear voice.”

He still wasn’t used to House trying to be genuinely helpful. “Um… No, I don’t think I could do it, it’s too weird unless I’m small, y’know? But uh, thanks.” Though, the idea of House doing a squeaky pretend-voice was funny to think about. Maybe he’d get to see it later.

House shrugged. “Well, I tried. Wilson!” He called, and Wilson appeared from the kitchen, drying his hands with a towel.

“Having trouble regressing?” He asked, “I’ve been listening.”

Chase rubbed the back of his neck. “Yeah I dunno, it’s hard to just do it on command. I’m barely even fuzzy.”

“Would you like me to help you?”

“I guess so. I haven’t got any ideas, help away.” He wasn’t exactly sure what Wilson could do that a box of everything I kid could want couldn’t, but anything was worth a try.

Wilson smiled. “And how do we ask?” He prompted gently, and instantly Chase’s face burned. Right to it then.

“Can you help, please?” The smallest hint of fuzz prodded at the edges of his brain.

“Of course. Come on,” He motioned for him to come to the kitchen and after a nod from House, he got up and followed. Wilson bent down to one of the cabinets and began pushing around a bunch of coil-bound books and loose papers. Eventually he found what he was looking for and held up a battered piece of paper victoriously.

“I was thinking we could bake some cookies for after dinner tonight. Do you want to help?”

“Sure. What kind are they?” He asked, rocking onto his toes to get a better look at the recipe.

“Chocolate chip. It’s my grandmother’s recipe, House and I have them all the time.” Wilson put the recipe on the counter and pointed to each ingredient, reading them out. “Could you get me the flour, the sugar, and the baking soda for me? They’re in that cupboard over there, and I’ll get the rest.”

“Yep.” He went on his mission for dry ingredients, scouring the disorganized pantry.

“Remember to use both hands on the flour and sugar, buddy. They’re heavy!” Wilson reminded, and the fuzziness flared again. He knew that.

“Mhm.”

Once they had gathered all of the ingredients, he stood patiently for his next task as Wilson pulled out bowls and measuring tools. House shuffled in and sat down at the dining table.

“Are you gonna help, House?” He asked.

Wilson snorted. “House is a terrible helper, we’re not letting him help.” 

-

“Here, you can do the vanilla.” 

Chase took the bottle Wilson handed to him and carefully poured it into the little measuring spoon, then poured it in.

“Good job buddy, that’s great.” Wilson praised, and he couldn’t help the bashful grin that crept onto his face. He was definietly fuzzy now; not small all the way, but close. Wilson hand-holding him through the steps and giving him small praises for mixing and measuring ingredients made him feel just like a little kid learning to bake for the first time. He supposed he kind of was. He hadn’t baked with either of his parents as an actual kid, and rarely bothered to as an adult, so it was nice to know he was doing a good job and being helpful.

Wilson handed him the spatula. “And now we stir.”

He stirred the batter until the stripes of vanilla disappeared, Wilson added the chocolate chips, and he stirred again. Once the chocolate chips were properly distributed, he presented the bowl to Wilson. “Look good?”

Wilson nodded in approval. “Perfect. Now we use spoons to put the batter on a baking sheet, and we bake them for 12 minutes.” He said, grabbing two spoons to demonstrate.

Chase took over, trying to make the scoops as perfect as possible, and then Wilson put them in the oven because it wasn’t safe for a kid to do it by themselves.

“Okay, now while we wait let’s clean up. Can you put away the ingredients, Robbie? I’ll get started on the dishes.” Wilson began filling the sink with soapy water and dropping in measuring spoons. 

House stopped him before he could submerge the mixing bowl. “Hey, hey! Save me the spatula, it’s got perfectly good cookie dough on it!” 

Wilson looked right at him as he dropped the spatula into the water, and Chase chuckled. “Cookie dough is for helpers.”

Chase held out the box of baking soda for House to take. “You can help clean up! There’s some cookie dough in the bowl still.” He offered, but House didn’t seem too interested in his proposal.

“I don’t want it that bad. Besides, you two are doing such a good job, I wouldn’t want to get in the way.” He held up his hands.

Chase shrugged and put the baking soda back by himself, and grabbed the carton of milk to put back in the fridge. “Okay. More cookie dough for me then—“ 

His grip on the milk faltered. He gasped as it fell from his hand and splashed to the ground, spilling all over the floor. He heard Wilson curse behind him and start rushing around for something to mop it up, but Chase stood frozen and watched the growing puddle soak into his socks. He was just trying to help and now Wilson and House were gonna be so mad at him. 

House clicked his tongue. “Maybe next time, we use both hands to carry things.”

That was the last push he needed for his headspace to come crashing down all at once. Suddenly he was five years old, tears were welling up in his eyes, and he was panicking. He was in so much trouble. It was an accident, he really didn’t mean to drop it, but now he’d made a mess and ruined everything! 

“Robbie.”

Were they still gonna want to watch him? Would he have to go home? 

“Robbie, come here, let Wilson mop it up.” House gently grabbed his wrist and pulled him away from the pool of milk. His socks squelched beneath his feet, cold and wet, and he let out a little sob.

“M’sorry, I-I didn’t mean to I—“

“Relax, we know. It’s fine.” House said. He sounded like he meant it, but Chase knew he was still angry because that’s how it always worked with adults. They said they weren’t mad when they really were, and then they yelled at you later. 

“I didn’t m-mean to drop it, m’really sorry!” He cried, “I was ju-just trying to he-elp…”

House let out a long breath, then to his surprise, pulled him into a hug and started awkwardly patting his back. “Okay, okay… You’re fine.”

Chase gripped onto House’s shirt, trying to take a deep breath. He shouldn’t be crying, he should be helping Wilson clean up his mess. 

“Well, he’s little now.”

“House.” Wilson chided.

House tried to pull away from him, and he clung tighter. He didn’t wanna be in trouble.

“Forget wombat, I think koala might’ve been a better nickname for you. Is this an Australian thing, or just you?” 

Hey! He was not a koala. Chase pouted as House gently peeled him off, and he clumsily wiped the tears off his face and glued his eyes to the floor. His stomach felt swirly with guilt.

Wilson bent down in front of him, expression soft and calm. “Robbie, look,” He pointed to where the puddle of milk used to be. The floor was clean, like nothing ever happened. “No more spill, see? All fixed.”

He sniffled. “But… the milk?”

“It was almost expired anyway, we can always get more.”

Maybe it wasn't so bad then. “…Okay. Can I… have a hug, please?” He hesitantly held out his arms.

“Sure, buddy.” Wilson wrapped him in his arms and squeezed tightly. Wilson gave good hugs. If there was a worlds-best-hugger competition, Wilson would win, he thought. “Are we ready to order pizza now?”

Pizza sounded good. The smell of the cookies in the oven were already making him hungry. “Yeah! Can we get cheese?”

“Just cheese? You don’t want anything else?” Wilson asked.

“Nope!” 

“I agree with the kid, cheese is objectively superior.” House agreed, setting a hand on his shoulder. “The council demands plain cheese pizza.”

Wilson sighed, exasperated, and pulled out his phone. “I can’t believe there’s two of you now…”