#they literally had a discussion where they were like 'hmm should we save him what would dokja do 🤔' and ????!!!??? wat

[vricks]

i love orv and the epilogue (for the most part) but the one thing i DO NOT get is how almost the entirety of kimcom except sooyoung and (later) joonghyuk were completely fine just letting the other half of dokja float around in space bc to them that wasn't their dokja. heewon especially since so much of her character was literally about protecting and being his sword but then just ?? the kids too??? hyunsung??? its just so out of place

[mulders-too-large-shirt]

s2 episode 7 thoughts

hmm. hmm. that is the sound if me pondering what i just watched.

(i understand that this episode was an analysis into mulder's self-destructive behaviors when faced with overwhelming grief, but. that does not mean i enjoyed vampire hookup time)

well. we shall start from the top!

i read that it was an episode about vampires which i thought was a weird narrative choice because. hello. scully still gone??? but then i remembered that i too ignored the main quest in skyrim to hunt some vampires and that i had no place to judge

(granted, my main quest wasn't finding scully though. might have given that a bit more priority than saving the whole world. because she IS my whole world)

we open with a guy that looks like joe biden meeting with an attractive young woman. they're making out in a hot tub and we just know someone is gonna get slurped upon. and woe, it be upon us! double vampire attack.

back in DC, mulder gets his old office back! it's covered in plastic. he takes some of it off. he adjusts his calendar from may to november, so we see how much time he and scully had been assigned to other tasks, which also has me wondering how she managed to get a new house that quick.

(also, this calendar is... scantily clad women posing next to tools such as hammers and saws. was this allowed? was this acceptable? was it normal? were the 90's a lawless wasteland and mulder an irreparable freak?)

well. scully is an x file now, and he puts her glasses and id into an evidence bag and closes the filing cabinet which was sooooo evil. but he can't bring himself to put her necklace away. oh man. oh he's gotta have it in case he finds her. he has to hold her close. i'm Fine this is Fine.

so. he goes out to california to deal with the joe biden looking fellow being murdered. and he is not wanted on the crime scene. we know this because someone greets him by saying "nobody called the bureau" and he says "well, they should have" and lifts up the tape to let himself in. because one thing about him is that he's gonna let himself into a place he isn't wanted.

he sees the writing of a bible verse in blood on the wall and says something about their grasp of biblical knowledge being "feeble and literal" and i was like okayyy need to have a theological discussion with him

he then scares the other guy who originally wanted to kick him out by reciting a LARGE amount of facts related to similar cases and it's very much giving photographic memory. got me thinking, have we ever seen this man forget something? (directions don't count. they're confusing. but everything else sticks in that man's brain)

he just needs one thing: a phone book. which he uses to call a blood bank and ask about a new guy. who must be the vampire who did this!

so he rolls up to the blood bank and i'm over here struggling because i do Not Do Blood, and i knew at this point this was gonna be a tough watch, but i didn't anticipate the non-blood related reasons why this would be true

anyway he's sniffing around the blood bank and he hears some slurping and wouldn't you know, this dude is tearing into a bag of the red stuff like it's a capri sun. somehow he gets him into custody, where the dude refuses to talk because the lights are on, and mulder comes in with a lamp he put a red filter over, because he was prepared for vampire interrogation.

the vampire is going on about how what he did isn't murder because it's not like animals hunting prey is murder which is. not the greatest approach in terms of legal defense. mulder tells the guard that the guy is delusional and it's best to play along, and he believed this to be true... until he, quite literally, burned to a crisp in the sunlight. and died.

he's talking to the coroner and rattling off a bunch of vampire facts and says he didn't believe in vampires which is so funny to me because like. why is that where you draw the line, my friend. not at bigfoot and definitely not at aliens. but man. vampires are just too out there for spooky mulder. until now!

the coroner has a very funny line: "you are really upsetting me... on several levels" which seems to be the general effect fox mulder has on people. and also because i felt the same way about his dumbass actions during this episode.

coroner finds a stamp on the dead body's hand, which seems to come from a nightclub. so naturally our fbi agent ends up there.

you often see posts saying that "(insert character here) should be at the club". i fear that this is not the case for fox mulder, but it's possible that it's his suit and tie that are throwing me off. he just doesn't seem like he belongs there. i ask myself, where should he be instead? perhaps some sort of star wars convention would suit him better. a book signing with some author he likes. idk, an interior decorating festival. not here.

i shall use my verbatim words to walk you through the next scene:

"pause. he's talking to a woman who was looking into a compact without a mirror. so. vampire suspect. and now why are they getting so close together. and getting a drink. okay now they're leaving to a new spot together? AFTER she admits to vampirism"

(here she did some stuff that required me to look away from my screen due to my Weak Constitution. but also it would have felt necessary to look away anyway because it was getting... charged)

she tries to get him to... suck on her finger... but he won't do it because aids. which is fair. i think that's a smart move, actually. it's just that getting flirty with a vampire he knows was involved with a ton of killings was such a stupid move, i don't know why it's now the braincells start to kick in.

that kills the vibe, though, so she gets another guy to take his place and things escalate.

mulder pulls in at a restaurant called ra. nice! the sun god! and he is... through a window, witnessing some more slurping action. he seems to want to intervene and save this poor soul being feasted upon...

but the poor soul is no poor soul at all! he comes out and decks mulder, and delivers this line with stunning conviction: "i don't know who you are, freak, but we're two consenting adults" and with this, he is forced to flee.

and yeah. it made me laugh. my expectations for the genre were subverted. he signed up for that shit! what he did not sign up for, however, was the next part, where he was killed by the other vampires.

cut to investigating the crime scene. mulder has brought along a forensic dentist, which is a job i had no idea you could go into. he needs to see about those bites, which are very human.

next they go to vampire woman's house. it's a very nice place. mulder... opens her oven. and sees a loaf of bread in there. and i'm thinking, man, i hope this doesn't go where i think it's going. baked goods... ovens... i never want a vampire pregnancy arc. but he cracks open the loaf and something red spills out and somehow, this to him means that she is gone and isn't coming back. he can read the signs of the bread. so add that to his resume. what did the bread tell you, my liege?

he seems to have stayed in her house, however, because he's there when she's back, and says he knows she was using the bread as a charm to ward off evil. because apparently that's an eastern european thing, blood bread to warn off evil. sound off if any eastern europeans in the chat wanna confirm or deny.

anyway. he's IN this woman he thinks is a vampire's HOUSE? what the hell. mulder seriously i need you to stop and think. like you should have stopped and done some thinking a while ago. honestly i'm not mad i'm just disappointed. and he's like "i want to save you come with me before they kill you" ohhh big tough man needs to save her huh. make him feel good inside. huh. certainly no ulterior motive here...

she's monologing about her horrible childhood and how sweet blood tastes. um girl. don't lie to him like that. i have busted my lip open before that stuff does NOT taste sweet and dangerous. it's like a penny with rust that you found in a parking lot.

it seems her vampiric origin story, if to be believed, is that things simply got too kinky. which is a new take on the genre.

(it's also about being caught in an abusive relationship and the damage that inflicts, but it seems abusive boyfriend came into vampirism at his kinky parties and things escalated from there. which. well. it blew the eyebrows clean off my head, to be fair)

at this point we see that he is WEARING SCULLY'S NECKLACE? he says something like "it's from someone i lost" and she says that she "hopes he finds her"

i did not like the undertones here and certainly not the overtones. because i knew where this was going. he was shaving in her bathroom. and let me tell you something: there is only ever a shaving scene in media because the writer needs a way to get some blood out of someone's body and into the real world. and man. i knew it was coming.

but what i didn't see coming was her SHAVING HIM??? girl. i am uncomfy. and she does, of course, cut him, and then they kiss. aggressively. terribly aggressively. can anyone answer what was going on in a satisfactory manner?

but the gag is: the original vampire- who burnt to a crisp in the jail cell, and was the abusive ex she spoke of- HE'S WATCHING THEM THROUGH THE WINDOW!

he breaks in and taunts the vampire woman about how he had to "wait for her to finish" and i was like cool. thank you SO much for that mental image i'm super happy with it. i definitely don't feel like i need a shower. but then he's going on about how he can't be killed.

here, at the tail end of the episode, we learn the rules of vampirism in this world: a vampire cannot be killed by a non-vampire. and a non-vampire BECOMES a vampire by consuming the blood of a believer and also taking a life. it is only here we realize that this woman is not an actual vampire yet, she just appropriates their culture by drinking blood unnecessarily.

mulder's still sleeping in her bed and she's like "you need to leave" and she stabs the wall to make her evil ex think she's killing him. but when they go to break out, mulder ties him up quite handily and he gets in the car to escape with vampire woman. until ANOTHER vampire woman jumps on the hood of their car. and main vampire woman knocks her out for a bit by running into her with said car, which is super effective.

mulder's leaving the place in shambles, his shirt still unbuttoned, wandering down the side of the hill. back at the house, now that we know the vampire rules, main vampire woman says she can finally kill the evil vampire ex. and he's like how!! you haven't had the blood of a believer or taken a life. so. she licks the blood off her hands (unclear if it's hers or mulders tbh) and says she'll take her own life. and drops a match after pouring gasoline.

so. that brings that to an end. and shabby looking mulder sits on a hill as he learns all four in the house died.

the episode ends with him playing with scully's necklace. which i don't even sort of feel like unpacking right now but maybe another time.

probably not, though, because i just didn't like this episode. and yeah, a lot of it comes down to me not wanting to see mulder hook up with people who aren't scully. can you blame me? is it so wrong to have preferences in this world?

but also, narrative wise- do you honestly see the guy fucking off to cali while scully's still missing to deal with an unrelated problem instead of devoting every hour of his life to finding her, like we saw him do in the last episode? you expect me to think he just puts it off for a lil while? the guy who, just last episode, pulled his gun on the ski lift operator to get to the top where she might be a little faster, and then choked his one and only suspect out of fury? you're thinking this is the guy that's gonna go soak up some west coast rays?

and yeah, he was obviously not himself through the episode- very cold and analytical- but c'mon. we all want to bang a vampire. he's not special. i just personally wouldn't do that if my friend were gone. like how is that gonna help the situation. be so for real. time and place!

and also the whole only learning the rules of being a vampire about 5 minutes before they need it to be plot relevant. that annoyed me too.

overall, mulder, like i said, i'm not mad, just disappointed.

let me know what you thought on this episode- i try to not be a hater, but i also understand that hating in small doses can be good for the soul. if it's a widely beloathed episode i'll feel better in my judgement as i join a long tradition of haters who have come before me.

[noforkingclue]

I Just Want To Sleep (Bucky x reader)

Summary: If you had a chance to get rid of your nightmares forever would you take it? Even if that solution was to share a bed with someone you just about tolerated?

Paring: Bucky Barnes x reader

Warnings: mutual pining, angst

MCU tag list: @geocookie21

Everything tag list: @greenrevolutionary

Everyone had nightmares, they were just another part of the job. It was known that most people got them, whether they lasted a couple of days after a mission or a lifetime. It was a fact that everyone knew about but just didn’t talk about it. That sort of thing wasn’t done.

Nightmares always varied from person to person but always involved what people were working on. The lives they failed to save whether from friends, colleagues or innocent bystanders. You were used to hearing people waking up screaming or sobbing, people going to therapy but never talking to anyone else about it. But those weren’t the worst types to have. The worst was when people remembered the lives of the innocents they had taken themselves. The sounds of breaking bones and skulls shattering, children crying over the bodies of their parents begging them to wake up although you knew they never would.

The nightmares that made you question whether or not you were the heroes or the villains. The ones that made you question your own morals.

You had forgotten the last time you had gotten a decent nights last as you laid awake looking up at the ceiling. Eventually you sighed and got out of bed knowing that you’d never get back to sleep. You walked into the small kitchen of the safe house and poured yourself a glass of water.

“Couldn’t sleep either?”

You jumped at the sound of Bucky’s voice breaking the silence of the night. You turned around and saw him lounging on the sofa, the blanket half hanging off of him. You made a point of only looking directly at his face, determined not to let your eyes wander over his bare chest.

“Same to you.” You said

“Everything alright?”

“Yes. Why shouldn’t it be?”

“Heard you scream.”

You hesitated for a moment before saying quietly,

“Just nightmares, nothing new. You?”

“Same.”

There was a beat of silence. You looked around, uncomfortable with where this conversation was going. You never spoke to anyone about your nightmares, even trying to avoid the topic with your therapist. Sam kept telling you it was unhealthy and while you knew he was right you didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of knowing it.

“Do you want to talk about it?” asked Bucky

“Do you want to talk about yours?”

Bucky’s silence told you anything. You gave him a pointed look as you took you water and left the room. Just because you and Bucky were working together didn’t mean that you had to open up completely to him. Not at all.

 *

 It was late (or early depending on who you asked) by the time you and Bucky collapsed back into the safe house. The mission took longer than both of you were expecting and all you wanted to do was curl up and sleep.

“My turn to take the sofa.” You said

Bucky had been insistent that you took the bed when you two work together. He was strangely adamant that you shouldn’t share and you guessed that it was some hangover from the nineteen forties. You had argued that it was unfair that he was forced on the sofa each night and forced him to alternate who took the bed.

“You should take the bed again,” said Bucky, “You need it more than I do.

“Don’t bullshit me,” you said, “You might be a super soldier but I saw how hard you got hit. Take the bed.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

“No.”

You and Bucky glared at each other and while you were tired you weren’t about to give in.  When Bucky smirked you knew he had a plan and when he laid down on the sofa he said,

“And where will you sleep now?”

“Move.”

“No.”

“Move please.”

“Make me.”

“If you don’t move right now I’ll sleep on top of you.”

“I don’t think you will.”

You smirked back at him before walked over and put your full bodyweight on him. Bucky groaned as you rested your head on his chest. Instinctively he wrapped his arms around you to prevent you falling off and you had to resist the urge to blush as he did so.

“You’re really stubborn you know that?” he said

“It’s one of my most endearing features.”

“You’re not moving are you?”

“Fine.” He grumbled

“Night Bucky.”

“Night y/n.”

   You opened your eyes and groaned as the bright light assaulted them. Strong arms tightened around your waist and for a brief moment you had forgotten about what happened last night. You sat up with a jolt which caused Bucky’s grip on you to slip and for you to fall to the floor. Bucky sat bolt upright before looking down at you in amusement.

“Nice night Princess?” he asked

“What time is it?” you asked

Bucky shrugged and you glared up and you hunted for your watch. When you found it you blinked, not quite believing the time.

“Well?” Bucky asked as he lay back down

“What time did we get in last night?”

Bucky shrugged

“About three.”

“It’s ten in the morning.”

“Then you’re watch is wrong.”

“No it’s not. Fuck,” you ran your fingers through your hair, “I can’t remember the last time I slept for seven hours straight.”

“That isn’t healthy.”

“Oh and you’re the person who can comment on healthy sleeping patterns.”

“Never said I was doll.”

You looked over your shoulder and glared at Bucky when he used the nickname.

“Must’ve just been because we were tired,” you muttered, “That’s it!”

“Hmm.”

Bucky didn’t sound convinced and you rolled your eyes.

“You got a better idea?” you asked

Bucky sat up and swung his legs over the side of the sofa. You rested your back against the side of the sofa and looked up at him.

“Maybe,” he said slowly, “It has something to do with last night.”

“Last night?”

“When you fell asleep in my arms.”

“Only because you were being stubborn!”

“Right.”

You groaned and ran a hand over your face. You looked up at Bucky and you could see the hopeful uncertainty in his eyes. A way of helping your nightmares without having to openly discuss them with anyone else.

What did you have to lose?

 *

 “You’re taking up the whole bed!”

“No I’m not.”

“Well your leg is on my side.”

“This is a single bed. There are no sides!”

You and Bucky were back to back trying to cram into a too small bed. When it was just one of you the bed was the perfect size but it definitely wasn’t made for two people. You tried to pull some of the blanket over you but Bucky kept a firm grip on it.

“Give me some of that!”

“You have plenty.”

“Ugh,” you sat up and glared at him, “This was a stupid idea. Why did I even agree to it? Move, I’ll sleep on the sofa.”

“No, you’re not going anywhere Princess.”

“Excuse me?”

“Err,” Bucky just realised what he had said, “That came out creepier than I intended.”

“You don’t say.”

“But please, just one more night.”

You wanted to say no, you really did, but one look at his pleading gaze had you melting. You sighed and nodded. He gave you a dazzling grin as you laid back down.

“But you need to move over.” You muttered

“Don’t blame me,” came the answer, “I’m not the person you decided it was a good idea to only supply single beds.”

You shifted again and your leg brushed Bucky’s. For a brief second he pressed back against yours and you closed your eyes enjoying the sensation. You had forgotten how nice it was to sleep next to someone again even if the both of you might end up waking each other up with your nightmares. Eventually you heard Bucky sigh.

“It isn’t working like this.”

“I told you- hey!”

To your surprise Bucky didn’t get out of bed. Instead he pulled you into his arms. You were practically lying on top of him, your head resting against his chest. It was different from last time then you were half asleep but now you had never been more awake. Bucky moved so your leg slipped in between his and he rested his chin on top of your head. If anyone broke in now they’d probably mistake the two of you as a couple. You had never been more grateful that Sam had been out of the country.

“Better?” asked Bucky

“Yes.”

“You sure? You sound a bit-“

“I’m just tired.”

“Right. Night.”

“Night.”

And just like the night before you had the best night’s sleep in years, safely wrapped in the arms of a highly trained killer.

 *

 “What’s going on between you and Bucky? I left the two of you for a month and now you’re practically on top of each other.”

You couldn’t contain your blush as Sam looked at you over the rim of his coffee cup. He raised an eyebrow at your reaction and you said quickly,

“It isn’t what you think.”

“And what’ll that be.”

“We’re not sleeping with each other.”

“Right.”

“I mean, technically we are sleeping with each other.”

Sam, who had just taken a sip of his coffee, choked on it. He looked at you incredulously as you clarified,

“We’re not fucking. We’re literally just sharing a bed. I have absolutely no desire to have sex with Bucky Banes.”

“You’re probably one of the few people on this planet who wouldn’t.”

“Would you?”

Sam shrugged and you just rolled your eyes.

“But why? I thought you hated him.”

“I don’t hate him,” you said, “It’s just… complicated.”

“Complicated?”

“He helps… he helps with the nightmares.”

“You’re still having them.”

“Doesn’t everyone.”

“Y/n,” Sam said gently, “You need help.”

“I have a therapist.”

“Sharing a bed with Bucky isn’t going to fix things for the long run.”

“Might do.”

Sam gave you a disapproving look which you pointedly avoided. You knew deep down that he was right but you just couldn’t face talking about what had happened with anyone. You were too afraid, too paranoid, that your secrets would be leaked. That the trust you spent years rebuilding would be broken again in a heartbeat. You just weren’t ready to lose everyone again and if the solution to your problems meant Bucky then you gladly take it.

 *

 It was strange sharing a bed with someone after all these years. Bucky usually woke up early, usually after horrific nightmares about becoming the Winter Solider again and losing control. He would spend hours lying in bed, waiting for the sun to rise and the day to start again but now things were different.

Now he had you.

How calm and peaceful you looked when you slept, how your soft breaths made him feel at peace. The way your chest rose and fell and pressed against his. Bucky had been interested in your for a while, how most people avoided you and you only seemed to speak to Sam. How you avoided him when Sam first introduced the two of you until you were forced to work together. He wouldn’t lie, he was slightly jealous of how close you were to Sam even though he knew you relationship was strictly platonic.

Just like yours and his.

That’s the two of you were, colleagues, maybe even friends, cuddle buddies as you teasingly referred to it once. That’s something Bucky noticed, how you were slowly opening up to him. Slowly you once awkward conversations turned into slight teasing and, at least on his part, slightly flirting. Just the odd comment here and there just to see you blush and stumble over your words. Bucky thought it was cute how flustered you got over simple compliments and how you shyly returned them. He enjoyed the warm feeling he got whenever you flirted back even though neither of you were serious about it.

That was it, neither of you were serious about it. Bucky enjoyed your friendship at least that was what he was hoping this is. He liked the idea of you showing him your favourite films or books, showing him your favourite places around your home city. Him teaching you about his original time period, teaching you how to dance as he pulled you close while the two of you were awake. He closed his eyes and smiled as he slowly drifted off to sleep.

The two of you just being friends.

 *

 “Hey, a new restaurant just opened want to try it?”

“Can’t tonight Sam. I promise Buck that we’d watch Blade Runner tonight.”

“Blade Runner?”

“Yeah, never thought that he’d be a fan of Ridley Scott’s films.”

You held your mobile between your cheek and your shoulder as you put a bottle of wine in the fridge. Saturday’s were film nights between you and Bucky and you always looked forward to them. The nights when it was just the two of you curled up on your sofa. Bucky’s arm over your shoulder, a bowl of popcorn between you and an empty pizza box on the table. It was quickly becoming your favourite night of the week. You could practically hear Sam’s raised eyebrow through the phone and you quickly added,

“But I’m free tomorrow afternoon.”

“And since when did you call him Buck?”

This made you pause. You didn’t know when that change happened. It just seemed to develop gradually and seemed to fit.

“And you guys spend most nights together.”

“It helps with the nightmares.” You said quietly

“Really? You sure there isn’t another reason?”

“What are you implying?”

“Are you going out.”

“What! Sam! No! Buck and I are just friends.”

“Hmm.”

Sam didn’t sound convinced and you rubbed your eyes. You were glad that he couldn’t see your face as you could feel yourself blushing. The sound of knocking at the door gave you your escape and you jumped out of your skin when you heard it.

“Sorry Sam,” you said quickly, “Got to go.”

“Don’t think this conversation is over.”

“Ok, whatever, bye.”

You hung up and dashed towards the door. As you opened it and looked up into Bucky’s smiling face you knew the Sam’s words were going to be harder to forget than you initially thought.

 *

 You were right, you couldn’t get Sam’s words out of your head. They echoed around as Bucky pulled you close, seemingly engrossed in the film. You were just his friend but ow you longed to be more. How you wanted his eyes to light up whenever he saw you. In hindsight this was a stupid idea, sharing a bed with someone, even in a completely non-sexual way, something was bound to happen. Even if it was just missing the warmth of someone next to you while you slept.

You rolled over so you were facing Bucky. His arms were still wrapped around you and it surprised you about how easily it was to fall asleep in his arms, even with his metal arm curled tightly around you. You raised a hand and gently traced it alone his cheekbones and along his face.

Your gaze dropped to his lips as your fingers grazed along them. How you longed to feel them pressed against yours, to have his arms around you during the day and not just to help the both of you sleep at night.

Just then Bucky shifted in his sleep and rolled over. For a sickening moment you wondered if you had accidently woken him up, however, and much to your relief, that wasn’t the case. Bucky rolled onto his back and dragged you with him. You head was resting against his chest and you smiled as you rested against it and heard the steady thump of his heartbeat. You might as well make the most of it while it lasted.

After all, this couldn’t go on forever.

 *

 “Morning.”

You looked at Bucky as he entered your kitchen while you poured yourself a cup of tea. He wrapped an arm around your shoulders but you quickly removed yourself from his arms. These touches were becoming less platonic and more romantic especially since your conversation with Sam. You didn’t want to give Bucky the wrong impression or to get your feelings crushed.

“You ok?” he asked, “Did you sleep alright.”

“I slept fine.”

“Ok.” Bucky said slowly

You inhaled deeply as you turned so your back was facing Bucky. This was hard to do but you didn’t want to lead him on. You never meant to develop feelings for Bucky or for him to imagine that there was more to this than was originally planned.

“I think we need to talk.” You said at last

“Nothing ever good happens after those words,” Bucky said, “What’s wrong?”

You looked over your shoulder at him. Bucky was smiling softly but his eyes told a different story. Anxiety was laced inn them and you winced and looked away. You took another sip of your tea and Bucky took a step towards you. He lifted your chin and you looked in his eyes. You pulled your chin free and said,

“We need to stop this.”

“What?”

“This was a stupid idea,” you said, “I never should’ve agreed to it.”

“But it’s helping.”

You walked away as Bucky quickly followed you. This wasn’t how it was supposed to go. He wasn’t meant to resist, he was meant to agree and let you go. It was supposed to be easy to let go of him.

“For you maybe.” You said

“What do you?”

“They’re back Bucky. My nightmares are back.

They weren’t, they hadn’t been back for months. You couldn’t stand seeing the pained look on Bucky’s face at your lie and you felt dirty for saying it. He took a step closer but stopped when you backed away.

“Why didn’t you say anything.” He said softly

“Because it was helping you.”

“Right.”

“Right.”

“So what are you going to do now?”

“See a therapist I suppose.”

“Good. I, umm, hope it helps.”

“Same.”

“I’ll umm, I should be going.”

“You can stay for breakfast.”

“No,” Bucky said sharply, then winced at his tone, “No,” he repeated softly, “I should leave. I’ll see you around.”

“Yeah, sure.”

It was only when the door clicked softly behind him that you allowed yourself to crumple on the ground, tears pouring down your face.

 *

 “What’s wrong.”

“Nothing.”

“That’s bullshit.”

“Drop it Sam.”

“Buck-“

“Don’t call me that.”

“Y/n can.”

Sam saw the way Bucky flinched when he said your name. Bucky was currently lying on Sam’s sofa which almost gave Sam a heart attack when he walked into his living room that morning. It was too early to deal with whatever happened between the two of you and Sam needed at least two cups of coffee before dealing with it.

“What happened.” He asked

“Nothing.”

“Then why does it feel like you’ve come here after she dumped you.”

“She didn’t dump me.”

“So you dumped her?”

“We weren’t dating.”

“But you were sharing a bed.”

“It wasn’t like that,” Bucky put a hand over his eyes, “It was just a way coping with our nightmares, at least,” he sighed, “I thought it was.”

“Oh?”

“Turns out she was still having them. Stopped it this morning.”

“Oh.”

Bucky looked over at Sam who was looking slightly guilty. He sat up and glared at his friend.

“Do you know what happened?” he asked

“No.”

“What do you say to her?”

“Nothing I wouldn’t say to you.”

“Which is.”

“You like her.”

“She’s my friend.”

“I mean,” Sam sighed, “You want to date her.”

“She’s my friend.”

“So? It’s obvious that you’re in love with her and she’s in love with you.”

“I don’t love her and she certainly doesn’t love me.”

“Then why are you here looking like you’re about to cry yourself to sleep after eating all my ice cream and watching shitty rom coms?”

“This was a bad idea.”

“Look, you can crash on my sofa if it makes you feel better,” said Sam, “But you need to sort this out with y/n. It’s hard enough listening to her when she talks about you.”

“She talks about me?”

The soft smile on Bucky’s face told Sam everything.

“All the fucking time.”

“What does she say?”

“Oh no,” Sam held up his hands, “You should talk to her about that.”

He heard Bucky’s groan as he collapsed back against his sofa. Sam could only hope that the two of you would stop dancing around each other and actually talk for once. He was getting tired of seeing you pine over one another.

 *

 “So, how long has it been since your last session with me?”

You shrugged.

“You have my notes Doc. You tell me.”

You therapist hummed in acknowledgement as she wrote a note in her notepad. You closed your eyes and tried to take calming breaths. This was a bad idea.

“So, tell me, how have you been?”

“Surviving.”

“Just that?”

“It’s been a shit couple of years. Give me some credit.”

“And what about your friends. You’ve been keeping in contact with them?”

“I talk to Sam.”

“Just Sam?”

“And Bucky.”

This earned you a raised eyebrow but nothing else.

“Sam introduced us,” you explained, “Couldn’t hang out with Sam without Bucky being there.”

“And are you two close?”

“Sam and I. Yes, he’s one of my closest friends. He was the only one who stuck with me after-“

You cut yourself off as your therapist said,

“Yes?”

“Doesn’t matter. You know what.”

“And what about you and Bucky.”

“It’s… complicated.”

“Want to elaborate.”

You were silent for a moment, weighing up your options, before you said,

“Nothing leaves this room right?”

“Of course.”

“Just making sure. We’ve been sleeping together.”

“You’ve entered a sexual relationship with the Winter Solider?”

“He’s not the Winter Solider anymore!” you exclaimed, “And no, it’s not sexual. We’ve just been sharing a bed.”

“Why?”

“It helps…”

“Helps with what?”

“My nightmares.”

“Y/n,” she sighed, “What did I tell you about your nightmares. If you’ve been having them you need to tell me.”

“They stopped when I was with him. Bucky helped me and I fucked up by stopping seeing him.”

“Right,” another hurried note, “And is this because you want your relationship with Bucky to become sexual.”

You flushed angrily and stood up. The therapist held your gaze before you said,

“This is over.”

As you marched out of the room you heard her call,

“Same time next week!”

 *

 You lasted one week, one week of constant nightmares before you cracked. You grabbed your phone and debated whether or not you should call him before swallowing your pride and calling him.

“Y/n.”

Bucky answered almost immediately. You smiled through your tears as you pulled your legs up to your chest.

“What happened? Are you ok? Talk to me.”

“I killed someone.”

Silence.

“Where are you.”

“In bed,” you said, “My mentor, that’s why I have these nightmares. She was a good person who fucked up. She was more like a friend than a teacher, taking me under her wing when no one else would. She never abandoned me and when she needed me the most I betrayed her.”

You took a shaky breath and continued,

“She betrayed us, SHIELD, she was selling intelligence. She was only doing it was she was being blackmailed, at least that was what she told me, but no one listened to her. Fury told me to bring her in but she wouldn’t listen. Told me that she’d rather die than be remembered as a traitor. There was a fight and I… and I…”

“Go on.”

“I stabbed her. I killed her. I held her bleeding body in my arms as she died. She told me that she’d been lying, that she wasn’t being blackmailed, that she did it for the money. This person that I had been defending with my entire being was a traitor. Afterwards nobody could look me in the eye. I don’t know if it was out of pity or mistrust. Sam was the only one who didn’t treat me any differently. He understood my pain, my conflict, he defended me. I still have nightmares of her, laughing at my foolishness as I choke the life out of her each night for the pain she put me through. Does that make me a bad person?”

“No.”

“No?”

“Compared to me, you’re a saint. You’re a good person who was in a difficult situation. You didn’t want to betray your friend. You’ve been hurt and you want revenge on the person who caused that. You’re not a bad person and never think that.”

“Buck?”

“Yeah?”

“Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it.”

“You’re a good person too.”

“I think you’re one too.”

That earned you a chuckled down the phone and you found yourself smiling at the sound.

“Princess,” Bucky said, “You don’t know how wrong you are.”

“I’m a fairly good judge of character.”

“Only when you’re awake. You sound half asleep. Get some rest.”

“What about y-“

“Don’t worry about me. Just try and get some sleep.”

“Anything for you Buck.”

“Good girl.”

“Good night.”

“Night.”

 *

 You hadn’t heard from Bucky for several weeks and every day you were debating on whether or not to call him. To hear his voice down the phone, for him to come over, to launch yourself into his arms and tell him how sorry you were. How you regretted ever telling him that you needed to stop this, that you missed him, that you loved him.

For the third night in a row you lay in bed staring up at the ceiling. You couldn’t get off to sleep, fears of seeing your dead mentor’s face filling you with dread. You continued with therapy and while it was helping it made you realise how much you missed Bucky. Suddenly a pounding at your door caused you to sit bolt upright. You hardly ever got any visitors especially at two in the morning.

“Y/n, y/n it’s me. Open this door. Please.”

Bucky.

You wasted no time in jumping out of bed and sprinting to your door. You flung it open and Bucky practically fell inside. His arms wrapped around you and pulled you into a tight hug. You walked backwards, still in Bucky’s arms, and he kicked the door closed behind him. When you felt your shoulder getting damped your eyes widened and you slowly returned the embrace.

“Bucky,” you said quietly, “What happened.”

“I kill you.”

“Umm.”

“Well, not me, he did. I wasn’t in control but I could feel everything. I was powerless to stop him as he took you away from me. I couldn’t… I couldn’t go on without knowing that it was all a nightmare. That you’re still alive.”

“I am,” you rested your head against Bucky’s shoulder, “I am. Fuck, I’m such an idiot.”

“Don’t say that.”

“No, I am. I never should’ve stopped this but I was afraid.”

“Afraid.”

Bucky looked up and you gave him a sad smile.

“I was afraid that you wouldn’t feel the same. That I have fucked up because I never expected to get used to this. To being with you and I knew that you didn’t feel the same. That I was just your friend, so I ended it before my feelings developed any further. I thought I was saving myself from pain and I ended up just hurting both of us. I lied Bucky, my nightmares did stop when I was with you but I was afraid of getting hurt.”

You buried your head against Bucky’s chest. His arms tightened around you as he rested his chin on top of your head.

“You have no idea,” he said at last, “How painful it has been to wake up in an empty bed. To know that you were out there and possibly in pain. That I was using you to actually fall asleep while you were in pain.”

“I hurt you though. I was selfish.”

“And I was being selfish as well.”

“No you weren’t.”

“Yes I was.”

“No you weren-“

You didn’t get to finish your sentence. Bucky had lifted your chin and pressed his lips against yours. You froze in his embrace. Of all the times you imagined kissing Bucky you never thought it would be with tears covering your face and on the verge of completely breaking down. When you weren’t returning the kiss Bucky reluctantly broke it. He moved away and opened his mouth but you wrapped your arms around him and pulled him back. You felt him smile against your lips and when you broke it gasping for air he rested his forehead against yours.

“You have no idea how long I’ve been wanting to do that.” He said quietly

“I think I have some idea,” you said, “Forgive me?”

“Yes.”

You relaxed and smiled up at him.

“Good. Now let’s get back to bed.”

“Princess, there’s nowhere else I’d rather be.”

[miracleonice87]

anything with matty tkachuk! but maybe a fluffy one where it’s your first season living together after being long distance for awhile and it’s like the moments you guys go through? first fight, first night together, new game day rituals, etc.

a/n: the last of the requests for the moment! I’ll probably open them back up soon. here’s a piece with a few vignettes referred to in the request. enjoy! 

warnings: partners arguing, brief mention of sex

_____

Firsts

first night…

“You’re going to throw your back out.”

Matthew scoffed. “You think you’re so heavy but you weigh next to nothing,” he insisted, scooping his arm beneath the crooks of your knees, the other steady beneath your underarms as he lifted you off the ground.

You chuckled, covering your face with your hand shyly.

“Matthew,” you whined. He shook his head.

“Nope, we’re doing it,” he told you, walking toward the front door. “You’re finally moving in with me. We’re doing the cheesy ‘carry you over the threshold’ thing.”

You couldn’t argue with that. Smiling, you looped your arms around his neck and resigned to his resolve. A few yards more, and Matthew was kicking open the door with one foot.

As he stepped into the house, he let out an adorable “ta daaa!” and beamed at you.

“Welcome home, princess,” he said sweetly. You leaned in to kiss him and pinched gently at his cheek.

“Thank you, my love,” you said. Matthew put you down carefully and closed the door behind him. As you stepped forward into the living room — your living room — you spotted not only a gorgeous bouquet of blush pink roses, but also an overflowing gift basket filled with an array of your favorite items. The jasmine candles you always burned in your own apartment, the lavender tea you drank each night before bed, your favorite shampoo and conditioner, the shower gel you always stocked up on at your favorite St. Louis boutique — all of it, and more, was tucked inside.

“Baby…” you began breathlessly, running your hand along the perimeter of the wicker. “What did you do?”

Matthew approached from behind with a smile, wrapping his arms around your middle and burying a kiss in your hair.

“I just wanted you to have some things that’ll hopefully make you feel at home here,” he said somberly. “And I gotta admit, Taryn helped me track down the stuff from St. Louis,” he added with a chuckle.

You turned in his hold to face him, and he noted the glistening in your green eyes as he reached for your face.

“You are so sweet. Thank you, baby,” you said, pressing your lips against his. When you parted, Matthew noticed the way your bright smile had faded. He knew why.

As thrilled as you were to be moving in with Matthew at last after a full year of dating long distance, you were still anxious leaving your hometown of St. Louis. You couldn’t wait to start your life in Calgary with Matthew, but living so far from your family and childhood friends had you battling homesickness from the second you took off from Lambert. The reality had caused you to break down on the plane and was bringing tears to your eyes once more.

“You okay?” Matthew asked kindly, kissing your forehead repeatedly. You held his wrists and nodded.

“Yeah, I’ll be fine,” you said.

“I know it’s not gonna be easy, sweetheart,” Matthew said, pulling you closer. “But your parents are welcome here anytime, and you can go visit them literally whenever you want. And you know my parents are gonna be up here way more now that you’re here. We all know they like you better than me,” he told you, pulling a giggle from you as you looked up at him with a smirk.

“There’s a smile,” he said. You nodded, sniffling.

“Trust me, Matthew, I’m so happy to be here with you,” you assured him. “This is where I’ve wanted to be for so long, and you’re so gracious for having me here. And I can’t believe how thoughtful these gifts were. The excitement I feel to start my life with you outweighs any sadness I’ll feel. Trust me on that.”

Matthew grinned, and you couldn’t help but reflect his joy in your own expression.

“I love you, princess,” he said, hugging you tight. “Welcome home.”

“I love you, too, Matthew,” you said against his shoulder.

_____

first fight…

It had taken a few weeks, but you soon settled into your new life in Calgary with little trouble. Spending every day with Matthew felt like a dream — you were both giddy when you hopped into bed together each night and woke up next to each other the following morning.

As Matthew began training camp, you found your own routine with your work as a freelance graphic designer. You only put in about twenty to thirty hours per week, which Matthew knew you did because you wanted to, not because you felt you needed to. He reminded you every so often that you could quit at any point if you no longer felt the need to work — though you told him not to hold his breath.

Matthew refused to let go of his housekeeper, as he wanted to save you from doing all of the chores, though you did insist on taking over the bulk of the household duties because you actually found them enjoyable — scheduling, grocery shopping, meal planning, cooking, laundry, and paying bills.

It was that last little item that caused the first tiff between you and Matthew since you had moved in with him — in fact, the first tiff the two of you had had in months.

One afternoon, after Matthew returned home from practice, he kissed your cheek and grabbed a glass of water before sitting down at the kitchen table to chat with you, as he did almost every day. As you worked on a logo design for a client, Matthew sat scrolling through his phone; then, eyebrows furrowing, he paused.

“Hey, babe?” he began. You acknowledged him with a distracted “hmm?” without looking away from your screen.

“It’s no big deal if so,” Matthew spoke, “but did you forget to pay the water bill this month? And maybe… maybe the electric bill, too? I don’t see that they’ve been deducted from my account yet, so I just wanna make sure they’re not late.”

Heat crept up your neck and chest as you slowly closed your laptop, pursing your lips to the side. When you didn’t respond right away, Matthew looked at you curiously.

You took a deep breath and pulled your legs underneath you, curling up and wishing you could hide from this altogether.

“Don’t be mad…” you said softly.

Not a good start, Matthew thought to himself. He clicked his phone to lock it and set it aside, folding his arms on the table.

“Babe…” he said, a warning in the single word.

You picked nervously at the seam of your leggings. “Okay. I kind of…” you cleared your throat, stalling. “I kind of paid those two out of my own account. But just those two. I swear.”

Matthew rolled his eyes, pushing himself out of his seat as he muttered, “oh, my god.”

Yep, he was pissed.

After pacing for a few moments, Matthew crossed his arms against his chest and faced you.

“I thought we talked about this,” he said, clearly frustrated.

You dropped your head. “I-I know…” you said timidly. “We did. I just-“

“And you paid them yourself anyway? Despite having already discussed it?” he questioned, his volume rising.

With lightly shaking hands, you tucked some hair behind one ear and swallowed hard, unable to meet his gaze, which was sure to be intense.

“Yes,” was all you could manage.

Matthew tossed his baseball cap on the table and sighed loudly, resuming his pacing across the hardwood.

“Baby, we can’t start out like this,” he said firmly. “I didn’t ask you to come live with me so we could split the cost of living like you’re some random roommate of mine. I asked you to move in because I want to share my life with you — I wanna share everything with you. I make more money than I’ll ever be able to spend, and you should not be spending your own money to pay our bills.”

As he spoke, you chewed anxiously on the inside of your cheek. When he paused, he sighed once more.

“Can you look at me, please?” he requested.

With a shaky inhale, you did as he asked, and his gaze softened the moment he saw the unease on your face.

“What’s goin’ on here, baby?” Matthew asked. “You’ve gotta talk to me. We’re partners.”

You pulled the sleeves of your sweatshirt down to cover your closed fists as you considered how even to answer him. Finally, you decided on a simple response.

“I feel like a mooch,” you said quietly, your eyes traveling downward again.

Out of your frame of vision, Matthew’s face fell. He felt sick at what he had just heard. He crossed the room swiftly, easily pulling out your chair and turning it to face him. He knelt before you and gathered your hands in his own.

“Princess… hey,” he said gently as he reached to smooth his hand over your hair. “Look at me.” This time, it wasn’t a question.

You forced yourself to look at him, finding immediate comfort in the tender way he was now looking at you as compared to before. He squeezed your thighs soothingly as he spoke again.

“You are anything but a mooch,” he said with conviction. “You are my girlfriend, who I love — who I’m obsessed with. You’re the person I want to spend my life with. I wanna take care of you in every way I possibly can, including financially. You know what I mean?”

You nodded slowly, unable to think of a convincing argument against him.

“I don’t want to fight about this with you,” Matthew continued, shaking his head. “We shouldn’t be fighting about money. Listen, if you want to spend your money on things that are only yours, that’s fine. Even though I really wish you wouldn’t even do that.” He muttered the last part and you offered the tiniest smile. “I don’t want you footing our bills, babe. You don’t need to worry about that. Okay? I want you to let me take care of all of that. Please?”

You nodded slowly. “I’m sorry,” you whispered. “I didn’t want to go behind your back. I just felt like I wanted to contribute.”

Matthew gave you a disbelieving expression. “Contribute? Babe, you contribute so much. You’ve barely been here a month and shit around here is more organized than it’s ever been. You’ve already got this place running like a well-oiled machine,” he told you as you breathed a chuckle. “You take care of me in countless ways. Let me handle the money. That’s the easy part.”

You let your head roll back with a sigh, knowing that Matthew was being the logical one in this instance. “Okay,” you agreed as you wrapped your arms around his neck. “I will. I’m sorry.”

Matthew shook his head, kissing the tip of your nose and then your lips. “Don’t be sorry,” he said. “Let’s just go upstairs and have make-up sex since this was our first fight in forever.”

You threw your head back in laughter. “You are something else,” you told your boyfriend, who was already picking you up out of your chair and toting you upstairs.

_____

first game…

As you stood in your closet selecting an outfit for Matthew’s home opener, you felt a familiar pair of arms snake around your waist and a set of lips you knew well come to rest on your cheekbone. A grin overtook your face.

“Good morning, sunshine,” you teased as Matthew relentlessly planted kisses on your skin. “How was your nap? I didn’t wake you, did I?”

You turned his direction, and Matthew shook his head. You smoothed the short curls atop his head and he nearly purred, making you laugh.

“My nap was good,” he said with a yawn. “And you’re gonna make me fall asleep again if you keep doing that.”

You snickered, kissing his jaw, before you turned back around and reached for a couple articles of hanging clothing.

“Once you pick what you’re wearing, can you make me a cup of coffee?” Matthew asked from behind.

Your brows pulled together, puzzled, and you cocked your head as you turned back toward him.

“Are you really that helpless?” you said in your best teasing tone.

Matthew rolled his eyes lightheartedly and said, “No, I can make my own, but I don’t want to. We’ve got a good thing going.”

You shook your head, amused. “Okay, I’m lost,” you told him, hanging your outfit on the back of the closet door to steam later. “What are you talking about?”

Matthew followed you out of the closet and toward the hall.

“You made me my coffee before the last three preseason games at home, remember? And we won them all,” he said matter-of-factly. “So yeah, if you don’t mind, we’re gonna keep that going. Unless you wanna be the reason we lose…”

“No!” you exclaimed immediately. Matthew laughed — he knew that would do the trick, as you were nearly as superstitious as he. “I’m going now,” you said. As you turned to descend the stairs, you glanced back at him, batting your lashes. “Cream and sugar?” you asked sweetly. 

Matthew laughed hysterically and tickled your sides as he followed you down to the kitchen, thankful once more that you were here to share not only his home with him, but his life. 

[lavellander]

hello im feeling extra “touch the stove”-y today so. i was looking for any dialogue where solas just straight up lies and (of what i could find online/transcribed, obv) i didnt find anything that was 100% untrue. he’ll completely avoid the question, change the subject, give part of the truth, etc etc etc, but nothing was just Entirely A Lie

what really gets me is that there’s a handful of convos where someone infers something from what solas says, and he will even point out that he didn’t directly say that. like, he tells people how to see through his shit, lmao

here is an embarrassingly long ass list of examples, all sorted by what kind of not-lying he’s doing lol, just bc i am unhinged<3

*note that some of these are cut from longer bits of dialogue or have been split up from one conversation into different categories*

literally just Not Answering The Question lol

Dorian: How much “will” do they have? They’re amorphous constructs of the Fade. Solas: Hmm.

Dorian: Solas, have I offended you? Solas: If you have, why would it concern you?

Dorian: Solas, what is this whole look of yours about? Solas: I’m sorry? Dorian: No, that outfit is sorry. What are you supposed to be, some kind of woodsman? Dorian: Is it a Dalish thing? Don’t you dislike the Dalish? Or is it some kind of statement? Solas: No.

Dorian: Let me get this straight, Solas. Dorian: You’re an apostate – neither Dalish nor city elf – who lived alone in the woods studying spirits. Solas: Is that a problem for you?

Solas: [has a whole tactical moment about the red jennies lmao] Sera: Where d’you get all this, then? Solas: Do you wish to be unnerved by another tale of my explorations of the Fade? Or do you wish to learn something?

Vivienne: You must be pleased with what was revealed at the Temple of Mythal, Solas. Solas: Why should those ruins please me, Enchanter?

changing the subject before he backs himself into a corner

Gatt: I don’t see any tattoos, but you’re carrying a staff. Are you from a Chantry Circle? Solas: No. And I would prefer not to discuss it.

Solas: I find the fall of the dwarven lands confusing. Varric: What’s so confusing about endless darkspawn? Solas: A great deal, although that is a different matter.

giving the truth, but not the whole truth

Blackwall: Skyhold. How did you find it? Solas: I looked. Blackwall: Now you sound like Cole. You looked? Solas: This world is full of wonders for those who seek them.

Blackwall: You spoke of seeing death and destruction. Did you fight in a war? Solas: There are struggles across Thedas at any given time. I doubt you would have heard of it. Blackwall: An elven skirmish? Solas: In a manner of speaking, yes.

Cassandra: Solas, have you always lived alone? Out in the wilderness, as an apostate? Solas: For the most part.

Cassandra: Have you ever encountered templars before? Solas: Only at a distance. I am an apostate, after all. Cassandra: And they never caught you even once? Solas: I am a very careful apostate.

Dorian: We found elves, living ancient elves, at the Temple of Mythal. Does that bother you, Solas? If Inquisitor allied with the Sentinels: Solas: I am pleased we were not forced to kill them, if that’s what you mean.

Iron Bull: You’ve got an odd style, Solas. Your spells are a bit different from the Circle mages or the Vints. Solas: That comes from being self-taught. Solas: I discovered most of my magic on my own, or learned it from my journeys in the Fade.

Vivienne: So, an apostate? Solas: That is correct, Enchanter. I did not train in your Circle.

Solas: You are a man who made a choice... possibly the first of your life. Iron Bull: I’ve always liked fighting. What if I turn savage, like the other Tal-Vashoth? Solas: You have the Inquisition, you have the Inquisitor... and you have me.

from cutscene at beginning Inquisitor: [mentions the anchor closing a rift] Solas: Whatever magic opened the Breach in the sky also placed that mark upon your hand. I theorized the mark might be able to close the rifts that have opened in the Breach's wake – and it seems I was correct.

from cutscene at beginning Solas: [to a Dalish Inq] You are Dalish, but clearly away from the rest of your clan. Did they send you here? Inquisitor: What do you know of the Dalish? Solas: I have wandered many roads in my time, and crossed paths with your people on more than one occasion. Inquisitor: [Crossed paths? dialogue choice] Solas: I mean that I offered to share knowledge, only to be attacked for no greater reason than their superstition.

from “I’d like to know more about you” convo in Haven Inquisitor: What made you start studying the Fade? Solas: I grew up in a village to the north. There was little to interest a young man, especially one gifted with magic. But as I slept, spirits of the Fade showed me glimpses of wonders I had never imagined. I treasured my dreams. Being awake, out of the Fade, became troublesome.

actually telling the truth but no one picks up on the gravity of it

Solas: [...] I believe the elven gods existed, as did the old gods of Tevinter. But I do not think any of them were gods, unless you expand the definition of the word to the point of absurdity. I appreciate the idea of your Maker, a god that does not need to prove his power. I wish more such gods felt the same. Cassandra: You have seen much sadness in your journeys, Solas. Following the Maker might offer some hope. Solas: I have people, Seeker. The greatest triumphs and tragedies this world has known can all be traced to people.

Cole: No, inside. I don’t hear your hurt as much. Your song is softer, subtler, not silent but still. Solas: How small the pain of one man seems when weighted against the endless depths of memory, of feeling, of existence. That ocean carries everyone. And those of us who learn to see its currents move through life with their fewer ripples.

Cole: You didn’t do it to be right. You did it to save them. Inquisitor: Solas, what is Cole talking about? Solas: A mistake. One of many made by a much younger elf who was certain he knew everything.

Solas: Empires rise and fall. Arlathan was no more “innocent” than your own Tevinter in its time. Solas: Your nostalgia for the ancient elves, however romanticized, is pointless.

Solas: Our people used to be here. Sera: Pfft, you say that everywhere. Solas: It is more true than you want to believe.

Vivienne: You must be pleased, apostate. With the Templars dissolved, your rebels will be most difficult to pacify. Solas: My rebels? Am I an agent for their cause, whispering poison into the Inquisition’s ears? Solas: How comforting. Vivienne: You enjoy seeing yourself as a villain? Solas: No more than any other clever man who wonders what he could do if pushed.

Vivienne: [about the Temple of Mythal] Now you know the elves were once a mighty nation. Solas: I always knew, Enchanter. The Temple of Mythal is just another reminder of what was lost.

(in the Emerald Graves): These forests have changed much since I was last here.

during the Fade!Haven cutscene Solas: It seems you hold the key to our salvation. You had sealed it with a gesture... and right then, I felt the whole world change. Inquisitor: [romance option] “Felt the whole world change?” Solas: A figure of speech. Inquisitor: I’m aware of the metaphor. I’m more interested in felt. Solas: You change... everything.

pointing out that people assume he means things he did not directly say

Cole: There is pain though, still within you. Solas: And I never said there was not.

Solas: You may well become fully human, after all. I never thought to see it. Cole: When did you see it before? Solas: I did not say that I had.

Iron Bull: We’ve got the alliance with my people. Given how much you love the Qun, I figured... Solas: I might scold you? Berate you for your decisions? Iron Bull: Hey. The Chargers died as heroes for the good of the mission. Solas: I never said otherwise.

Sera: Don’t you start. Solas: I’m reasonably certain I said nothing.

Vivienne: [talking shit about grey warden mages] Solas: I never claimed mages should be above the law, Enchanter. Vivienne: No, darling. You merely implied it, while offering no viable suggestions for improvement.

after infamous “side benefits” dialogue Warrior Inquisitor: You find my muscles enjoyable? Solas: I meant that you enjoyed having them, presumably. Warrior Inquisitor: Ah. Solas: But yes... since you asked.

diminishing things he does actually know by saying he he “believes” or “thinks,” or that things were vaguely “said” or “told”

Solas: I say what I believe to be true, even if it gives offense to those who prefer the lie.

Dorian: That orb Corypheus carries... are you certain it’s of elven origin, Solas? Solas: I believe so. Why do you ask?

Solas: It is said that we lived at a pace that sustained us for... ages.

making it sound like he’s talking about something/someone else, but it’s just him lmao

Cole: Do you know a lot about wolves? Solas: I know that they are intelligent, practical creatures that small-minded fools think of as terrible beasts.

Solas: No man can kill so many people without breaking inside. To survive... those you fight must become monsters. Iron Bull: The ones that kill innocent people, yeah. The rest... I don’t know. Solas: The mind does marvelous things to protect itself.

during In Hushed Whispers Inquisitor: I’m glad you understood what he just said because I’m not sure I did. Solas: You would think such understanding would stop me from making such terrible mistakes. You would be wrong.

misc

this one i wanted to include because it’s the only circumstance (that i came across) where someone directly asks solas to lie and he literally says he can’t

during the fucking crestwood breakup scene Inquisitor: [angry option] Tell me you don’t care. Solas: I can’t do that. Inquisitor: Tell me I was some casual dalliance so I can call you a cold-hearted son of a bitch and move on! Solas: I’m sorry.

*also note that most of these are banter transcriptions from the wiki; some are cutscene / other dialogue posted by either @/daitranscripts or u/karinini on reddit; it’s not all his cutscenes obv, but I’m not about to look up every single one individually sdlkfj*

[taexual]

BTS Mafia AU / Their S/O tries to leave them

WARNING: strong language, angst, tough!bts they just want to be loved

JIN

You thought you knew Seokjin well enough to find a way to de-escalate the situation if he learned that you’d been thinking of leaving, but the fact that he had just caught you, suitcases in hands, in the middle of the night, complicated everything.

“Uh…” he started, hesitant. You’d never seen him struggle to understand something that was so obvious before.

“I thought you were asleep,” you spoke, hoping to alleviate his confusion but making it worse as you saw him wince.

You lowered your eyes immediately as if that was going to protect you from the hurt on his face.

“And that’s why you thought now was a good time to leave me?” he asked.

You could have said you weren’t leaving him but he could obviously see the bags in your hands – undoubtedly filled with everything that you owned – so you had to go for a different excuse.

“I don’t think there is a good time to… leave,” you said, stumbling a bit as you hoped you wouldn’t have to make this personal. You didn’t want to leave him. You wanted to leave this. This life that he’d shown you. This house, full of so many weapons that had killed so many people. “I didn’t want you to catch me like this.”

“Well, then you should have remembered the security alarm,” Seokjin almost scoffed as he took several steps closer to you. You didn’t know what to expect and you didn’t dare to look up at him. “I got a notification on my phone as soon as you unlocked the door.”

You hadn’t realized he was getting notified whenever people came in and out of the house but, admittedly, you probably should have guessed this.

“I’m—”

“Don’t bother,” he snapped, cutting you off. Then, before you could recover from the coldness of his voice, he grabbed the bags from your hands and walked back inside, crossing the hallway towards the staircase and not turning to glance at you as he said, “save your words until the morning. If you’re going to be leaving me, you’ll have to look me in the eyes as you do it.”

SUGA

Yoongi had been so busy with his work – constructing an operation that was meant to take down his long-time rival, who wasn’t much of a rival in the literal sense of the word, but Yoongi didn’t want to admit that he still held a grudge for when this guy attempted to shoot him seven years ago – that it took him three full days to realize that your shared bedroom had been untouched for quite a while now.

“Hey, I don’t mean to interrupt,” he addressed one of the maids, tidying up the eternally empty and yet always so dusty guest room across the hall, “but when was the last time you’d seen my fiancée?”

The maid blushed so furiously, she nearly turned into a whole different species. “I’m afraid I don’t remember, s-sir.”

“I see,” Yoongi clenched his jaw, never one to make a scene in front of the people who worked for him. “Carry on, please.”

But his polite façade evaporated as soon as he was left alone. He couldn’t understand it – he’d been texting you. Leaving you voice messages. How could he have gone so long without realizing that you weren’t just busy – you were ignoring him. You were deliberately distancing yourself away from him.

He found himself by the door of your parents’ house before he realized that he was on his way over. Calling you had been fruitless – your phone was off. Asking your friends was fruitless, too – he didn’t know any of them. And so he was here, knocking on the door of the house that he’d never been inside of before. That he’d never even seen before.

Hell, before the door opened and he saw you, looking so different – and so distraught – even though it couldn’t have been more than a week since he’d seen you last, Yoongi wasn’t sure if this was even the right house or if his intel had been wrong.

But you were here. And you wished he wasn’t.

“Yoongi,” you said, “I wasn’t expecting you.”

“Well. I wasn’t expecting you to leave me,” he countered dryly, “but I guess we both love surprising each other, hmm? Do you mind if I come in?”

“I don’t, but—”

“Good. We have some things we should discuss,” he said, walking past you into the house and turning around to face you without bothering to look at the decor.

He wasn’t trying to intimidate you with his piercing gaze – probably not – but you still felt the need to defend yourself.

“Very well,” you said, closing the door and crossing your arms over your chest. “Maybe we can start with you explaining how you found out where I was.”

“Or maybe,” Yoongi opposed, closing the distance between you by taking a calculated step closer, “we can start with you explaining why I had to look for you in the first place.”

“You didn’t.”

He scoffed. “I did. You don’t get to leave me without an explanation. Not with a month left to our wedding. Not ever. So, go on, then. Tell me the reason why you felt the need to run away. And pack your bags while you do it because I’m taking you home.”

J-HOPE

“Do you have plans for tomorrow night?” Hoseok asked. His shoulder was still pressing his phone to his ear, so, for the first few seconds, you didn’t realize he was talking to you.

“Oh. No,” you answered then. “Why?”

“Hold on,” he replied and then said into the phone, “you must have been wrong. I’ll call you later.”

You frowned and, prompted by the confusion on your features, Hoseok explained, sighing in relief, “I got a call that you’d purchased plane tickets for tomorrow. To Spain. Leaving at 7 PM.”

A hot wave washed over you as you felt your eyes automatically seek out the suitcase you’d hidden behind the clothes you’d decided to leave behind in your closet.

“That’s—”

Hoseok – who interrogated sneaky, lying sons of bitches for a living – could immediately tell that something was wrong. Not from the way your eyes left his as soon as he brought the plane tickets up, but from the way your expression was quick to turn into an unreadable wall. A wall that he’d seen before whenever you didn’t want to talk to him about something. A wall that he’d thought he’d burned down a long time ago.

“You did purchase those tickets,” he said, sounding more like he was making an observation rather than expressing his disappointment in your secrecy. “Why?”

“I just—I-I need a break,” you said, finding the words with surprising ease. You thought you’d never be able to articulate your need to get away.

“From me?” Hoseok asked, still using his official voice with you but looking a lot more surprised now.

“From everything,” you explained, not particularly smoothly, “I’m really tired of always being in the middle of—always waiting for you to come home and—just… I’m tired.”

He nodded – you thought you’d imagined it – and then, allowing the first hints of disappointment to creep in, he asked, “why didn’t you tell me?”

You swallowed. “Because I wasn’t sure when I was going to come back.”

“When,” he asked, “or if?”

You didn’t say anything – and that answered his question.

Nodding again before he left your room, Hoseok didn’t try to stop you. Not right now.

You needed a break. He understood and respected that. He wasn’t going to stand in the way of you spending some time away from all of this. Away from him.

But, clenching his fists as he walked down the stairs and into the garage, he was going to make sure you came back. He was going to make sure you wanted to come back.

RM

Namjoon had been watching you discreetly pack all of your belongings into a duffel bag for the past fifteen minutes. He wasn’t stupid, he didn’t need to enter your shared bedroom and ask you what you were doing. He knew exactly what.

You were leaving him.

So – when you exhaled slowly, double-checked if you’d packed your wallet and keys, and exited the bedroom, not turning the light in the hallway and therefore, getting startled when you heard him clear his throat – all that Namjoon did, was ask you, “why?”

“Namjoon. H-how long have you been standing there?” you countered, not really wanting to know but needing a second to recover from the fright. You weren’t aware that he’d come home; he’d told you he would be gone the whole weekend.

“Long enough,” he replied. He chose not to turn the light on, either, so you couldn’t see him and his voice wasn’t giving much away. Namjoon had always been good at hiding all emotions from his voice. “Were you going to call me? Or leave a note?”

“I was—” you started to say but, the truth was, you weren’t. You were just going to leave. “I’m sorry.”

“No, don’t be,” he said. The shape of his silhouette indicated that he was leaning against the wall on the far end of the hall, his face turned away from you. “I just want to know why.”

“I-I want to spend some time away from—”

“No. Not why you’re leaving,” he interrupted, “I’m sure you have more than one reason to leave me. That’s fine. I don’t need to know that. What I need to know is why you’re leaving without telling me.”

“Because I don’t—I knew you’d try to stop me,” you said. “And I would let you. I always let you.”

“Is that what you think of me? That I make you do things you don’t want?”

You shook your head but he couldn’t see it because he was still not looking at you. He couldn’t see the tears in your eyes, either.

“No,” you said, your voice about as steady as your heartbeat. “You make me forget what I want.”

“I thought you wanted me.”

“I do. I do want you,” you said. He wondered who you were trying to convince – him or yourself? “But I… I don’t want all that comes with you. I don’t want this. Any of this.”

You were brutally honest – for the first time since he’d met you – and you didn’t even specify what this was but you didn’t need to. Namjoon understood. He nodded.

And then he waited.

“Y-you’re not going to convince me to stay?” you asked, frozen in the same spot because this was so unlike him, you suddenly weren’t sure if this was really the same Namjoon who’d grabbed your hand every time you tried to walk away from him before you finished an argument.

“No,” he replied, finally pushing himself off of the wall and starting to descend down the stairs. He didn’t turn to look at you because he knew he wouldn’t be able to keep on living if the last image of you in his mind was your distorted silhouette with a bag in your hands as you got ready to walk out of his life. “If you wanted to stay, you’d stay.”

JIMIN

Under normal circumstances, Jimin respected your privacy and chose to confront you if he was confused about something. But these circumstances were decidedly not normal – you were gone. All of your things were gone with you. Your phone was off. He hadn’t heard from you in three days.

And that was why he was now sitting on his bed – your bed – with his laptop on his knees as he tracked your credit card payments and made calls. He found your presumed location before he could feel guilty about doing this.

And he got into his car, drove out of the garage, nearly ran over his gardener, and reached the highway before he could reconsider. Before he could stop and think that maybe there was a reason why you disappeared without saying anything. Without giving him a sign. A warning.

These thoughts came later, about fifteen minutes into his journey towards the motel where you’d been staying, and, by the time he was outside of your door – after bribing the manager – these thoughts were already halfway done with suffocating him.

Jimin really needed you to tell him that you were just visiting someone – a sick relative who’d decided to spend his final days in a questionable roadside motel. He really needed you to tell him that you hadn’t run away. That you hadn’t left him.

But when he knocked on the door and you didn’t open – even though he saw you peek outside through the gap in the curtains – he knew that was just wishful thinking. You had run away. You had left him.

“Listen to me,” he spoke, leaning his palms on the door as he pushed against the sturdy frame, “I could find my way inside, you know I could. But I won’t because, clearly, you don’t want me to. I’m not going to leave you here alone, however. I’m going to stay right here.”

A very soft whisper reached him from inside of the room. If he hadn’t been standing so close to the door, he probably wouldn’t have heard it.

“Jimin, please…” you were saying. “Go home.”

“I won’t,” he replied firmly. “I’m not going to let you stay in a place like this all by yourself. I will stay here with you until you feel ready to look at me and tell me why you’re here. Why we’re both here.”

“Jimin—” you tried again but he wasn’t listening anymore as he lowered himself against the wall of the motel and sat down on the cement floor outside of your room.

“And then I will take you home,” he decided, “I will take you wherever you think your home is. Even if it’s not with me.”

V

Taehyung finished a job a few hours later than he’d planned and had, therefore, found it necessary to stop by the florist’s – who nearly had a stroke when he saw the handle of a revolver sticking out of Taehyung’s coat pocket – to pick up a bouquet for you. You two were supposed to have dinner tonight and he was, clearly, running late; flowers were his way of making up to you.

A pleasant smell of food reached him as soon as he walked through the door of your shared house. It would have surprised him – you’d planned to have dinner at seven and it was now nearing midnight; all smell of food was supposed to have dissipated by now – but he was too relieved that you’d waited for him to think about anything else.

The dinner table looked beautiful. You had really outdone yourself with all of this cooking and Taehyung stopped to take his coat off, before calling out cheerfully, “I’m home! If I had known you were preparing a feast like this, I swear I would have dropped everything and—”

Words got caught in his throat when he noticed a folded piece of paper on the chair where you usually sat. Frowning, he put the bouquet of flowers on the table before leaning down to pick up the note.

“What’s this?” he called out again even though his heart had already started to pound in his chest, realizing what was inside of the note before he’d even opened it.

“I’m sorry,” your clumsy handwriting said, “I love you but I can’t stand another night of listening to distant gunshots and hoping it isn’t you who just died. Please take care of yourself.”

“No,” Taehyung said, crumbling up the note and almost laughing to himself, “no. You hear me?!” he was yelling but the echo of his voice was the only thing that replied to him.

Cursing loudly when he tried calling you only to hear the robotic announcement about your phone being off, Taehyung climbed the stairs, three at a time, to check the bedroom even though he already knew he’d find it empty.

“Fuck!” he groaned, throwing the door shut so hard, it rattled painfully against the hinges.

Not pausing to clear his head or think of a plan of action, he ran back down the stairs and towards his car. It was a chilly autumn evening but he couldn’t feel the wind as he entered the vehicle, only one destination in his mind – you, wherever you were.

JUNGKOOK

You spent a yet another Saturday night in the bathroom of your house, tending to the wounds on Jungkook’s face that he refused to go to the hospital for. You had no medical education and yet he wasn’t bothered by the stinging pain you sometimes brought him when you accidentally brushed your fingertips right over his bruises – in fact, he didn’t even come to you to get you to fix his face. He just came.

“I missed you,” he would say as a way of explanation but the sight of his beaten up features would drown out his words.

“Again?” you would ask, nodding at the fresh cuts and bruises. “Aren’t you tired of this?”

He’d never reply. He’d obediently follow you into your bathroom, allow you to sit him down on the closed lid of your toilet, and then he’d wait until you got the first-aid kit. He’d watch you clean his wounds in a way that you’d already memorized. He’d close his eyes at the feeling your soft touch as you carefully glued bandages on his face.

And he would say, “thank you,” before leaning in to kiss you. Before standing up to leave. Before coming back here again, next Saturday, bloody and in pain and missing you.

“I can’t do this anymore,” you felt yourself say, your words breathy and uncertain.

You had just used the last adhesive in the kit to take care of the cuts on his face when you spoke up, and Jungkook thought you were referring to your medical supplies.

“What do you mean?” he asked. “I can buy you—”

You shook your head. “No, I don’t—I-I can’t see you like this anymore. I can’t. I don’t want to. Please, just—please.”

“W-what are you asking me?”

“I’m asking you not to put yourself through this anymore,” you said, your hands wrapped around your sides as you spoke, “not to do the things that end up hurting you like this.”

Jungkook swallowed with difficulty before saying, “I… it’s what I do, though. It’s my job. You can’t ask me that.”

“Then I’m asking you to stop coming here,” you replied, looking down at the floortiles because it felt like you were saying goodbye and you lost your ability to think – to speak – every time you looked into his alarmed eyes. “I’m asking you to forget about me.”

Jungkook stood up – so quickly that he felt dizzy for a second – and reached for you but you pulled away. “Hey, where—”

“I’m asking you to leave,” you cut him off, pleading. “Or let me leave.”

[dajaregambler]

HeliosR -  Gast Adler Card story “A gondolier’s task”

Translation of Gast Adler’s 4* “Waterfront City Guide” card story from ‘Helios Rising Heroes’.

Gast: Siiigh~....

Gast: (The two-day sightseeing tour should be wrapped up without any problems if things keep goin’ like this. Luckily…)

Gast: (I’m still nervous ‘bout interacting with girls, and got my doubts if I could tolerate it but, with Marion and others helpin’ me out I can somehow pull it off)

Gast: (....Honestly thankful for it)

Gast: (Anyway, been paddlin’ this gondola the entire time today and yesterday too, my arms are gettin’ all wobbly…)

Gast: (Goes to show that I gotta start training a bit more seriously, eh---)

???: Ah, this is a good spot....

Gast: Hm?

Gast: Who’s there!? You can’t just climb into the gondola like that….!

Faith: ….Huh? Was thinking who that’d be but it’s you, Gast

Gast: Faith….?

Faith: I see… Ochibi-chan had said something about North holding some kind of sightseeing tour, I think?

Faith: He was way too agitated going on about Marion this, Marion that, I totally didn’t get it but, are you and Ren involved in it too?

Gast: Y-Yeah we are… Hold on, don’t crawl in the gondola. C’mon, get out

Faith: I actually have a favor to ask of you. Can you let me take shelter here for a minute?

Faith: While on my way to going to this chocolaterie nearby, a group of girls that look they weren’t from here called out to me...

Faith: And then the local… former girlfriends of mine intervened, and somehow it ended up in a bloodbath

Faith: They started going on about how to not casually call out, while they were holding themselves back or whatever, and somehow during all of that it became how all of them wanna keep me company

Faith: I didn’t get any of it, and I was totally outnumbered so I fled while I could

Gast: Woah….

Faith: It’s a group of about 10 girls so you should be able to spot them immediately. ...Are you seeing them? They’re still prowling around there, right?

Gast: ...Uum, is that them? For real looks like they’re out for murder, so it prolly is them

Faith: Please, Gast, let me hide until these girls go away

Faith: It definitely would be suicide to go out there on my own, you get me?

Gast: Hmm~...

Gast: Right. These girls that called out to you at the chocolaterie do look like they were my customers...

Gast: Guess I gotta lend out a hand, you can hide until things cool down

Faith: What a relief…. Thanks, Gast

Gast: You sound like you got it rough, eh. Being so popular to the point where people are that fascinated by you...

Faith: ….Well, yeah. I don’t think it’s that much of a bother though

Faith: It’s more as something to appreciate. Since it means that’re people look out for me and think of me too

Gast: That is a pretty nice thing, yeah

Faith: Aah, you also reminded me of something. How you’re obviously, like... popular yourself too.

Gast: Eh? Uh no, just now I’m----

Marion: Oi what are you two doing

Faith: Hm? Uwah, Marion….

Gast: Said that while thinkin’ about my bros but… no one heard that, eh

Marion: What are you doing here. Do you not have the conscious to not interrupt those of others sectors while they’re on the job.

Faith: You’re under the wrong impression… Just got involved in something bad, so I’m temporarily hiding here...

Marion: That doesn't pass as an explanation. Be more clear.

Faith: Aaah… Over there’s no good, and here’s bad too. You don’t have to be that much on guard

Faith: We’re associates that went out to eat chocolate together at En Ciel and drank tea together, aren’t we

Marion: That’s unrelated.

Faith: Wow, how relentless♪

Gast: Didn’t expect you guys to get along that well? ….Actually, is it ‘cuz of the same age?

Faith: Mhm. We ended up being friends due how we felt a connection for being the same age

Marion: We might be, but I’m still a mentor. Know your place!

Gast: H-hold your horses, Marion… He’s only here ‘cuz a buncha girls are chasin’ him down, and if anything happens to him, I’d be responsible for it

Marion: Hah? You would…?

Faith: Aha, Gast’s so nice

Marion: ……….

Marion: Well… you’ve been seriously putting a lot of effort in your duties these past two days, I suppose I could excuse this. 

Gast: Eh

Marion: Hmph… I do want you to stand on your own two feet without the need of my help by the end of this tour though.

Gast: !! Of course I’ll be doin’ my utmost best…!

Faith: Heeh, so that’s how Marion’s been training his rookies, huh. Looks like he’s a pretty good match with Gast too---

Girl’s voice: I FOUND HIM! He’s inside that gondola!

Faith: !!

Faith: Got caught, huh… Well, obviously they would when you two are pretty much standing out way too hard

Girl’s voice: Faith-kun! We’re not letting you get away this time!

Marion: W-what is this….

Faith: Hmmm…

Faith: Hey Marion, c’mere for a sec

Marion: ?

Faith: …………………………………………………………………………..

Gast: ?

Faith: And so… please, give me your support!

Marion: There’s no way I’m going to allow that! However you think about it, there’s nothing to be gained from th….

Marion: ….No, wait a second. This could work out

Faith: Really? Then, it’s an agreement?

Marion: It annoys me to do as you say, but I’ll let you have this one for now.

Marion: Oi, Gast

Gast: Yeah?

Marion: Go calm these girls down. And obviously treat them politely since you are dealing with women.

Gast: …..eeeEEEH!?

Faith: Sorry, Gast. I’m sure they’ll listen to you once they see you, though. ….Can’t say what’ll happen afterwards though

Gast: NO no no!!

Marion: Come on, go. Think of it as work… No, as practice

Gast: You gotta be kiddin’ me!?

Marion: Stop complaining and GO!

Gast: Hweh!?

-

Faith: Eh… Gast’s scared of girls?

Marion: Hmph, should be clear from just seeing that

Faith: I had no idea… Honestly, I just thought he was messing around

Faith: ….Kind of, feel like I should apologize to him later

Marion: No, this is fine. It’s a necessary trial for him.

Faith: Wow, so spartan… Is this what they mean when they say if you love your child, you send them out in the world?

Gast: Gh, I give up… I surrender, no more! Marion, Faith! Or whoever, please help me out here!

Gast: This is absolutely on hard mode, ain’t no damn way I’ll make it through thiiiiiiiis---------!

-

Notes:

Faith uses a Japanese proverb when he says ‘If you love your child, you send them out in the world’. There is somewhat of an English equivalent, aka ‘spare the rod and spoil the child’, although somewhat different in nuance. In this case I decided to translate the jpn one as is, given that jpn proverbs come up often and are discussed how they are of jpn origin because of Brad and his love for Japanese things. Also, it can be also taken in a literal sense in this case since Marion is sending out Gast to a pit full of lions (save for the lions part).

[havenoffandoms]

Can we get some Lambden with prompt 13 pls? 🥲💜 (@geraskier-trashh)

@geraskier-trashh I’m so glad you requested two separate prompts ahhhhhh! Okay so this one is soooooooooo soft. Toot-rotting fluff fits the description of this prompt fill. Hope you enjoy it, I certainly loved writing it. 

Anyone can send me a prompt from my list.

Lambert x Aiden: “You have to make a choice” (prompt 13)

"How about this one?" 

Aiden emerges out of the fitting rooms for what feels like the hundredth time. Lambert jerks awake (he cannot let Aiden know he's falling asleep or he'll never hear the end of it) and thankfully his eyes adjust rapidly to the light. Aiden is wearing a fitted grey pinstripe suit, which to Lambert's despair, looks like the exact same suit his fiancé tried the first time round. If Lambert had known that "wedding suit shopping" entailed a whole day of sitting in an uncomfortable chair under an unflattering lighting, he would've convinced Jaskier to be Aiden's fashion advisor for the day.

"Yes, very handsome."

"You've said that about all the suits I tried," Aiden whines, yes whines, not unlike a child, and Lambert refrains from rolling his eyes. 

"That's because you look handsome in all of them." 

“Flatterer,” Aiden drawls, shooting Lambert a cheeky wink before assuming a serious expression once again, “okay but, if the house was on fire and you could only save one suit, which would it be?”

“Trick question,” Lambert stifles a yawn as he straightens himself in his chair, “if the house is on fire, the first thing I save is our son.”*

“Obviously, but after that,” Aiden presses, a pointed eyeroll following his words. Lambert heaves a tired sigh and wonders if it’s worth calling Eskel and faking an emergency just to get out of this shop. He decides against it because Eskel would enjoy his suffering far too much and be exactly zero help. Plus, he might tell Aiden which would mean a whole lot of trouble for Lambert. How long have they been in this shop, anyway? Lambert guesses not far off two years. 

“The navy blue one,” Lambert suggests, praying to God that Aiden tried a navy blue suit at some point.

“Because grey washes me out, doesn’t it?” 

“No,” Lambert is quick to correct his mistake, forcing himself to soften his tone, “no, babe, you really can’t go wrong here. Everything you try on fits you to perfection.”

Aiden grins at those words, his cheeks flushing red as he basks in Lambert’s compliment. God, how did Lambert get so lucky? Yes, shopping with Aiden was a nightmare under normal circumstances and literal hell on earth when shopping for their upcoming wedding, but other than that Aiden is the best thing that happened to Lambert since… well, since nothing. The day he met Aiden and the day they adopted their four-year-old son Connor - those are Lambert’s happiest memories. And soon, he’ll add his and Aiden’s wedding to that list.

“Well, thank you babe,” Aiden croons at him, his eyes flickering to his reflection and checking himself out with a newly-found confidence, “I like this one. Hmm, but I think I want to try the white suit.”

That’s when Lambert snaps. 

“No!” He rises from his chair and faces a surprised Aiden. “Baby, I love you, but this has been torture for me, okay? Aiden, you have got to be a better shopper than this, I’ve seen you order three outfits while stopped at a traffic light.”

“This isn’t just any outfit, Lambert,” Aiden bristles, “this is our wedding outfit. This is the single most important outfit of our entire lives. It’s like you don’t want it to be the most beautiful day of our lives.”

“We don’t need fancy suits and expensive menus to make it a beautiful day,” Lambert argues, “all we need is each other. Now you have to make a choice, or so help me God I will drag your indecisive ass out of the shop and order myself a suit off Amazon.”

A dramatic gasp pushed past Aiden’s lips as one hand shoots up to cover his chest, as if the gesture alone would serve to steady his racing heart. 

“You wouldn’t dare.”

“Don’t test me, Aiden,” Lambert threatens, his eyes narrowing with determination, “you get to try one more suit. And then you decide! End of the discussion.”

“Well where was all that righteousness when I booked your favourite venue? What were the words you said then? ‘Aiden, I swear if we don’t get married on that beach I will lose my shit.’ Don’t be a hypocrite.”

“It took me all of ten minutes to pick our venue.”

Lambert watches Aiden’s cheek puff up in consternation upon hearing the barefaced lie with a certain amount of amusement. He loves nothing more than winding up Aiden and seeing those cheeks fill out and flush red. It was truly an adorable look.

“Oh, the cheek! Just for that I will try on two more suits.”

Lambert lets himself fall back into his seat with a frustrated groan. 

“Fine, two and then you decide.”

Lambert resents himself to the fact that he will be spending the rest of his life in this shop. He probably should let Geralt know that he will need to pick up Connor from school and, well, take over his entire education because Aiden and Lambert will die in this shop before they find Aiden’s dream suit. No, he’s not being dramatic. Lambert’s leg shakes nervously in anxious anticipation. He’s really beginning to lose his patience. He’s feeling restless. A coffee and doughnut sound like heaven right now. It takes another ten minutes for Aiden to reappear wearing a white suit.

Lambert’s jaw drops. Aiden looks fucking gorgeous. The whiteness of the suit brings out his natural tan and the material hugs his lithe yet muscular form just so. The burgundy tie bring out the chocolate brown of Aiden’s eyes, and oh that radiant smile. Aiden is speechless as he checks his reflection in the mirror. Lambert can tell that Aiden loves it. And so does he. 

“This is the suit,” they both say in unison, their eyes meeting in the mirror. A mesmerised smile tugs at the corner of Lambert’s lips.

“Yes babe, that’s the suit. You look…”

“Hot?” Aiden offers cheekily, “drop-dead sexy, like a literal god?”

“Beautiful,” Lambert breathes out, his voice heavy with emotions and just on the right side of soft, “you look beautiful, Aiden. There’s no other suit.”

Aiden’s eyes shimmer with a myriad of emotions that remain unspoken between them. Aiden and Lambert don’t do cute, they don’t do cheesy declarations or poetic waxing. It doesn’t mean they don’t love each other, it just… it’s just that it’s not them, but in this moment Lambert can’t think of a more accurate word to describe Aiden. 

Beautiful. 

His beautiful fiancé.

Lambert couldn’t wait to finally make Aiden his husband.

[toovirgins]

January, 1972

Summary: In Paul's first interview since the breakup of the Beatles, things go slightly awry when a nosy reporter gets more out of him than she bargained for.

Part 1/3 (2, 3)

Paul flashed a blinding grin at the camera, hoping none of the looming anxiety beneath the surface would read. He quickly seated himself in the plushy chair, running his fingers up and down the smooth red velvet of the arms a few times to soothe his nerves. A tad self-consciously, he scratched his jaw, fingers twitching with unfamiliarity against the now smooth skin. This was his first interview in nearly two years.

He had been in a bad way since the breakup. It did no good to mull over it now, but it was hard to stop the same intrusive thoughts from popping into frame—the fuck-all, nothing-matters-anyway attitudes; the gnawing sensation of his own incompetency at the bitterness of feeling utterly lost; the desire to waste his fucking life away drunk out of his mind so he didn’t have to wake up in the morning and remember. What now?

Paul sighed inadvertently, ignoring the curious way the interviewer’s eyes danced over his form. What now? Now, this interview. One day at a time. A nice, simple discussion about the past year—about the success of RAM topping the charts in the U.K. and the slow but steady promise of Wild Life. Family and new beginnings. Peace.

Getting better all the time, right? His stomach did a violent flip at the thought.

Paul jumped a bit as the interviewer leaned forward, brushing a tentative hand across his knee. “Paul? Are you all right?”

Paul blinked. “What?”

She lowered her voice a bit, eyes flicking in the direction of the cameraman. Paul felt dizzy as the red light blinked back at him. “Should we—should we cut?”

Shit. Already off to a poor start.

Slowly, Paul came to his senses, breathing returning to normal (though he hadn’t realized it had been erratic). His chest felt tight as he gave a curt, polite nod, forcing a smile that, to him, felt borderline grotesque.

“No, love. Everything’s fine. Just a bit distracted, is all.” He shot her a wink, hoping to assuage her. Maybe a bit of flirting would do the trick.

He sighed in relief as the reporter flushed, a pleased grin sneaking onto her otherwise hard features. “Right. Well, if you’re ready, we can begin.”

“In earnest,” he beckoned, waving an inviting hand in her direction.

—

Half an hour later, Paul’s face felt utterly plastic from faking so much interest and expression. The poor girl was trying, for Christ’s sake, but Paul had to actually hold back groans at some of the painfully bland questions. Every goddamn thing reminded him of the Beatles, anyway, even if it had nothing to do with them. He felt surrounded by ghosts: the echo of George’s laugh, a flash of fangs; the dissipating vision of the way Ringo bit his lip real hard and furrowed his brow when asked any remotely difficult question; the trace of John’s fingertips on his arms or lightly thumping the back of his head. Things hadn’t been the same for a while, now, as far as those things went; but it was almost like they’d never changed. Everything was rushing back to him as if he’d just woken up from a long nightmare. Only to find that the nightmare was more pleasant than reality, of course.

Paul swallowed hard, fighting the urge to be sick. He wasn’t ready for this.

He wished Linda was there. Paul nearly kicked himself for agreeing to do this alone—he wasn’t sure why they had requested that, anyway, if they were just going to make him repeat the conception of “Yesterday” all over again. He needed her there, needed to distract himself by caressing her and leaning on her and whispering subtle inside jokes in her ear at inappropriate times. He needed to have her, just like—just like he needed—

“On your newest record with Wings, you have a particularly interesting track I’d like to touch on,” the reporter was saying, bearing down on him with a sudden insatiable gaze that should have been frightening, if Paul had literally cared one bit.

“Hmm?” He replied, noncommittedly.

“’Dear Friend’. It’s about John, no?”

Paul tensed.

The interviewer stared back at him, daring him to speak, the lust for truth plainly evident in her eyes, and Paul swiftly understood. Everything had been mere formalities or trust-building exercises up to this point. Everything to get him here: trapped, with nowhere to go, no one to turn to. His mind worked quickly, frantically, pushing the blossoming anger aside to make room for the desperate bid to save himself. He could only think of one solution, and one he was king at.

Paul began to laugh. Not loudly, not absurdly; just casual enough to where the audience would soon be able to read the feigned perplexity in his tone. “John?” He practically scoffed, cocking an eyebrow at the woman with a look that bordered on condescending. “No, love, it’s not about John.”

“Who’s it about, then?” Came the follow-up.

Paul answered too quickly. “Linda.”

“Ah,” the interviewer affirmed, leaning back in her chair slightly. “I see. So the bit about throwing the wine—”

“Celebration!” Paul interjected, his voice much too shaky for it to ring true. “Throw back the wine. Congratulations, and all that.” He mimicked a drinking glass. “Young and newlywed.”

“Mm.”

Paul’s heart was hammering in his chest, so violently he was sure the cameras could see it. He never should have put out the song. He had knownit was too transparent, but had convinced himself it was his own paranoia. The public was desperately searching for anything to drive the wedge between him and John deeper—even if the song really wasn’t about him, they would have found a way to make it so.

So, that’s what the story was. He felt a sudden angered hopelessness, offended by the audacity of the reporter. To coax him out of practical hiding, persuade him to do this huge press event for the “good of his album”, to pull him from Linda and thrust him into the spotlight he tried so desperately to escape, all so they could catch a hope of getting Paul to contradict and expose himself? Like she was some kind of Pharisee?

He could see her eyes working coldly, calculatedly, and he felt the sudden urge to run. His mouth felt sour, tongue acidic against his teeth that were clenched far too hard to be healthy. He had to get out of here.

“You say friend,” the interviewer started, almost cautiously.

“She’s my best friend,” Paul argued.

“What about the fear? What is Linda afraid of?”

“It’s a general fear,” Paul retorted, almost pouting, feeling more than fed up with the increasingly dangerous questions.

“Is what ‘true’, then?”

“All the things he said, of course,” he snapped.

It wasn’t until she responded that he realized his mistake. “He?”

Shit! Paul’s eyes shot wide as he stumbled for an answer. “I-what?”

The reporter narrowed her eyes. “You said ‘he’. All the things he said.”

Paul’s heart was in his throat. He struggled to breathe, mimicking the feeling of having your head barely above water as the ocean closes around your neck. “I most certainly did not.”

“But you did. You said, ‘all the things “he” said’. I presume you’re referring to Lennon’s more public digs, especially in response to RAM. He's far less subtle than you, you know. ‘Too Many People,’ though, that one’s about him to anyone who has ears to hear it and a brain to really listen. So he comes back with ‘How Do You Sleep’, and though you’ve been sitting on this one for quite some time, it feels right to put it out, a spitball to his face, an olive branch in the face of his fire. It doesn’t matter that it sounds like it’s to a lover. Because, in a way, it is—"

“No!” Paul all but cried out, wanting to press his palms so far into his ears that it would crush his skull. The beginnings of desperate tears well up inside of him. “No, that’s not—I’m not—”

“What happened in India?”

Paul froze.

The reporter simply stared back at him, almost expressionless. Paul’s brain had short-circuited at the question, leaving behind nothing but a dull buzz, his thoughts as comprehensive as television static. The buzzing of the studio lights was the only sound for a long time, save the soft pants escaping Paul’s lips as his chest constricted with the effort of not hyperventilating. When he finally spoke, his voice was dripping with a malice that shocked even himself.

“What the fuck do you know?”

Even the interviewer looked momentarily taken aback. She licked her lips almost hungrily. “Is there something to know?”

“No. It’s—nothing happened, all right?”

“That’s the trouble, isn’t it?”

“What? No!” Paul was astounded, flabbergasted, so far past the point of shock he no longer had control over his ramblings. “Or—no. I don’t know. Nothing happened, it couldn’t—”

“Did you want it to?”

“He wanted—”

“What did Lennon want, Paul?” There was an edge to the reporter’s voice, a twinge of excitement at what may be perhaps the biggest story since their breakup.

Paul said nothing. He couldn’t trust himself to speak. A cloud came over him, blurring all thoughts of past and future. All implications and consequences. He was blissfully, numbly empty.

“Paul McCartney, were you in a… a physical relationship with John Lennon?”

The question went unanswered. He simply stared at the woman opposite him, cool and stony. He could tell by the slight waver in her expression that his intent was evident. It was a dare—turn the fucking interview off, or sit here in silence for the remaining half-hour. Give the viewers quite a special.

Her choice.

Eventually, the woman cleared her throat and shuffled the stack of notecards in her lap that Paul hadn’t noticed until now. He let his gaze trail over her lazily as she made to signal the camera cut. As soon as the little red light went dead, she shot Paul an aggravated glare and shuffled off the set.

He only winked, feeling much more hollow inside than before.

[wovenstarlight]

YWBK update: chapter 25 + liner notes

yesterday will be kinder has updated! you can read chapter 25 here, or start from the beginning here

okay, on to notes and commentary! first time i’m doing these, let’s hope this works out. commentary under the cut to save people’s dashes

Hamin laughs. “Given how bad you are at not being suspicious, that’s understandable.” “Oh, come on, I’m not that bad.” Hamin screws up his whole face in a squint. “Okay, so maybe I’m a little bad.”

this part was really funny to me when i wrote it because i was like “hmm reasons for DHM to understand why HHJ wouldn’t work in the guild” and then i was like Wait. Their Whole First Meeting, Dude. DHM was lowkey convinced for the longest time that HHJ was like, on the run from the KR version of the mafia, and got plastic surgery to look like his little brothers, and is possibly in some sort of witness protection program??? or something??? how else does he not have cops on his ass this man is so suspicious all the time

“I don’t think… They said the dungeons were, like, different worlds? Did they find people there?”

mafia theory second place. dungeon theory first place

“Like, humans? Um. No, no humans.” “So then you can’t be from there. Okay.”

dungeon theory shot down. mafia theory back in the running

“Hey,” he says cautiously. “I’m— I’m gonna go get us some water, okay? Why don’t you… take a minute.” “Okay.” “The bathroom is over there, if you need it.” “Okay. Thank you.”

after four years working alongside a guy you start to notice when he’s feeling a little out of it and needs a bit of a break... but as JHW mentions later you also learn to be a little subtle about giving him one

jung heewon What’s with your typing? It reads like Jihye’s [HYJ]’s fine. Very energetic Too energetic? He’s going to burn out. How do I make him calm down

Epic Burnout Man makes a reappearance! when translating sclass one of the things that makes me want to shake HYJ most is his habit of constantly adding things to his to-do list while he already has 1 billion things on his plate. and all the time he’s whining about “UGH there’s SO MUCH WORK to do” No One Asked You To Do It

Anyway. the point is. HYJ isn’t about to be beat by HHJ at Developing Issues 😔

jung heewon I haven’t spoken to him directly about this because if he’s anything like you he’ll take it as an insult You wtf whts tht supposed 2 mean quit typing jung heewon Better not say shit, mr “No, I can’t take days off and cater to my interests or go out with friends or on a date, I’m too busy taking care of the kids and making sure their needs are met, no I don’t care that there are thousands of people out there balancing personal enjoyment and romance and work AND kids at the same time, are you suggesting I be a BAD GUARDIAN to MY KIDS?”

see above re: not being too direct with pointing out when HHJ’s having Issues because he doesn’t react well

You wht but our eyes r fine jung heewon Even if having glasses doesn’t run in the family, you should still get him checked, just in case

top 10 funny time travel moments: referring to you and your past self as “us” (our = my eyes are fine), but other people think you mean “our family” (our eyes are fine = no family history of long/shortsightedness)

Also. Sooyoung-ie says hi [Attachment: 20XX1213_144516.jpg] 

ok no lie this was one of the parts that pissed me off the most, even though it’s Literally One Line, because. i love chat exchanges. i really do. when done right they’re a lot of fun to read. But Do You Know How Long It Took Me To Figure Out A Calendar For The Events In This Fic. now everything’s TIMED i have to count HOW MANY DAYS IT’S BEEN since XY event so i can CORRECTLY NUMBER the FILE ATTACHMENTS!!! this sucks!!! it took me fucking forever to pin down a timeline just so i could write this chapter plus the few before and after it!!!!

anyway i gave up when i reached year. i just put 20XX. fuck it. we are running on fairy tail time now. (actually i think that’s XXnumber number? XX76? or was it X796. something like that. Who cares i stopped watching fairy tail forever ago)

Fuck it! Hamin will understand!! “If you Awaken you should come work with me,” Han Hyunjae says all in a rush. 

“HAMIN WILL UNDERSTAND” => he literally was cool with me giving zero context for half a dozen absolute balls to the wall nonsense bullshit things i’ve done before. he’ll be fine with this too. dog_in_burning_house_this_is_fine.png

“You already know about the guilds, those are going to be for dungeon Hunters, but I was thinking of forming something like an independent group of contractors. Awakened people with skills that aren’t useful for combat, but that might… that will be generally useful. It’d be you and me, and maybe one other guy I met recently. Probably more in the future.”

given that HHJ has no idea currently that peace exists (i’m so sorry baby i’ll find a way to shoehorn you in soon i miss you so much) he’s got no intentions to start a kiseungsu business yet! he mostly wants to live quietly while just acting as a manager for other Awakening-related services, like YMW’s forge and DHM’s tracking service, along with the information exchange/lowkey spy ring that he’s planning on setting up with JHW and the bar. since HYH is fine associating with him in this timeline, HHJ’s thinking he can get a foot in the door that way, then eventually spread out into dealings with most major guild leaders

RIP to this plan. you were well-made but you will not last long.

“Please, I can’t tell you how I know that, I really can’t, it’d put me and my brothers in danger if it got out. But—” “No need.” Hamin looks slightly alarmed, and Han Hyunjae feels himself settle at the obvious concern in his eyes.

MAFIA THEORY RAPIDLY RISING TO PROMINENCE??? THIS IS NOT HOW DO HAMIN WANTED HIS GUESS CONFIRMED

“I spoke to the Task Force Head and she said that there’s been discussion about hosting a meeting for the nearby high-rankers, where they’ll announce the guild proposal and see who else is interested in trying it out.”

“they’ll announce” i’m sorry king 💔 you deserved a nap

(OH ALSO FUN FACT choi eunyoung is a canon character, not an OC of mine! she appears in uhhh i think late 140s? 150s? something like that)

“I think there’s… probably only one other S-rank who’s Awakened right now?”

Hehehehehehehehehehehehehhehe

Hamin beams. “No, they’re doing great! Spookie’s taken really well to the new housing situation, but I think Spots might miss the store…”

shoutout to @daemonic-dawn​ for letting me borrow a pet name, love u king. i had a much longer ramble about pet names here but i finished typing and realized it was all entirely off topic so i removed it for convenience

Hyunjae makes an annoyed noise in the back of his throat. “Don’t— I mean.” He huffs, visibly taking a deep breath, and Yoojin frowns reflexively. [...] “Is everything alright?” Yoojin kind of wants to be annoyed at his tone on principle, but he forces his shoulders to relax, matching Hyunjae’s posture. Though he can’t stop himself from being a little short when he answers.

things the brothers have learned in four years living together: getting confrontational often leads to arguments that just fizzle out anyway, so it’s way fucking easier to consciously tone down their combativeness in advance when talking to each other about things they have problems with, instead of screaming their heads off and then having to calm yoohyun down afterwards to boot

“I guess. Whatever.” Yoojin slumps. “Can I…” “Hm?” Hyunjae blinks at Yoojin as he gestures to the spot on the bed beside him, then jolts. “Oh! Yeah, sure, c’mere.” He opens his arms, and Yoojin goes over and flumps on the bed, head in Hyunjae’s lap. Almost immediately, Hyunjae starts stroking fingers through his hair, and Yoojin relaxes into the touch, listening as Hyunjae continues speaking.

cuddles 🥺🥺🥺 sorry i don’t have any other commentary here just. cuddles. extremely and overwhelmingly comforting for a man who spent the better part of 8 years(?) with no major positive relationships, and a kid who spent 12 years of early life basically abandoned by his parents. you had best bet they gave up on not hugging each other 1 year into this whole mess

Yoojin hums in acknowledgement. It’s not like he’d ever let himself get hurt; he has too many responsibilities to his family and friends. If he wants to be good enough to keep up, he can’t afford to fuck up like that. But… hyung will worry if he keeps working so hard. He can slow down a little for him. 

Problems disorder man when will you stop. the way he sees “getting hurt” as an inconvenience and an obstacle to his duties rather than a danger to himself. the way he doesn’t really care if he himself gets hurt, but if it’ll worry his family, then it’s a no-no. it’s just. wow. i know i wrote this but i hate him

“Not really. I talk to Myeongwoo about it sometimes.” “Ah, right, Myeongwoo.”

haha gays

“Don’t be weird about him,” Yoojin warns[...]. “I won’t, promise.”

if the “i won’t” line had a dialogue tag it’d be “Han Hyunjae lied”

“Is Eunwoo still in his relationship?” “Mhm, happy as ever. Apparently they’re trying long-distance, now that Eunwoo’s gone off to university abroad.”

three guesses for who eunwoo’s dating and you won’t need the first two

Hyunjae raises his hands like he’s going to deny the accusations levelled against him, so Yoojin seizes him by the collar and shakes him until he cries for mercy

oh my o/rv ass struggled so bad with not writing “shakes him like a man betrayed” here. it killed me not to. but in the end i prevailed (against, uh, myself. don’t think about it too hard.)

“Jeez, okay, he’s an F-rank!” “Eh?! Then why—” “He’s also got an SS-rank potential skill,” Hyunjae admits[...].

play-by-play of this scene because god if i draw any scene in this fic it would be this one just for the sheer hysterical nature of HYJ’s reaction:

YOOJIN: I HATE YOU WHAT THE FUCK WHY. TELL ME HIS RANK

HYUNJAE: HE’S AN F

YOOJIN: WHAT? WHAT THE FUCK?

HYUNJAE: he’s also got an SS-rank skill,

YOOJIN:

[teamsarawatshusband]

Word Of Honor - 1st watch insta thoughts - Episode 2

Here’s Episode 1

Okay, before I get started with the episode, thank you so much for your likes and kind words and explanations. Thanks @averageace​ for letting me know that ghosts aren't necessarily dead. And thanks @ pretty-much-obsessed for letting me know it's not xianxia but wuxia. K, no cultivators. Got it!

Oh, just for future reference: I love when you guys help me out in the comments with understanding stuff like this! As long as you don’t spoil the story, I'm super grateful for all the genre info and cultural insights <3

Anyway, here we go!

Episode 2:

Oooooh, it was smirky guy who stopped the whip. And everybody is watching. How embarrassing.

I kinda like purple girl. She's so feisty and sassy.

Ok, the kid wants to make friends with alcoholic tanned tragic hero lord guy. He's in town to buy pastries for his mom, that's so cute. I need a shorter name for alcoholic tanned tragic hero lord guy. Anyway, the kid gives him a bookmark like a key to where he lives. Alright.

So smirky guy really did recognize the fighting. Oh, Four Seasons Manor is a sect! Ok, ok. And that's their fighting style. Was smirky guy once a part of them? Still so mysterious.

The kids are singing about the 5 lakes. That seems to be important somehow.

K, alcoholic tanned tragic hero lord guy wants to hitch a boat ride. And the old man looks like the old guy who got the 7 nails last time, but he's probably not, i'm just bad with faces again.

Yooo, does alcoholic tanned tragic hero lord guy have so much silver? Yeah, I wouldn't trust him either, old man. Oh, smirky guy intervenes. And now the old boatman wants to do the ride.

Whoaaa, nice scenery with the water and the blossoms and the music. I wanna go there.

So, now he's at mirror lake manor. Was that the kid's place? I forgot.

Wow, that boatman is really something, shouting out his insults as alcoholic tanned tragic hero lord guy is simply standing on the dock. Can't he be a bit nicer? LOOOOOL, yeah, so now he really dashed without paying, that's what you get for being rude.

But shame on tragic hero lord guy.You should always pay your debts. Tsk, tsk, tsk.

Whoaaaaa, the blossom trees. I'm in love. Tragic hero lord guy flies over them in slo-mo.

And when it's not snowing, it's raining petals. Why is there a boat on dry land? Is that gonna be important?

Ooooh, fan fight! Must be smirky guy. Yusss! And now they're dancing.

Oh, and now smirky guy is being poetic. Dude, you sound like you’re crushing on him hard, man. Alcoholic tanned tragic hero lord guy isn't having any of it, lol.

There's two guys talking about war in the next scene. One of them is the dad and the other a son. Is that our kid from before? He seems older. I hate being bad with faces. Oh, he's not the kid. He's his older brother. And apparently there's one more brother even. I'm gonna get them all confused so much. Ugh

Tragic hero lord guy gets to stay in a woodshed. And likes it. I mean... whatever makes him happy, I guess.

Ooooh, back at the palace, I remember the helmets of the soldiers. And there's the guy who took tragic hero lord guy's job and... the other, like... boss guy. Maybe a king or an emperor. New at the job guy talks about... stuff. He's killed people. And seems proud of it. And now he's talking about a children's song. Oh wait, is that the song that alcoholic tanned tragic hero lord guy noticed earlier on? Oh, the song is connected to the glazed armor. Got it.

Ooooh, they sent a spy after tragic hero lord guy. So that's why he went into hiding.

Back in the woodshed, either the alcohol was bad, or tragic hero lord guy is having issues with the nails thing. His veins are moving and it looks disgusting tbh. And he's kinda... fuming. Literally. Looks like he's got a bad smell. And now he's... trying to meditate the smell away?

Oh, there's a fire outside.

Why?

Oh no, it's the red guys with the masks again. They're killing people.

Ooooh, tragic hero lord guy jumps into the fight, alright. OMG, I LOVE THAT TREE IN THE BACKGROUND!!! It's so pretty.

I want it.

Somebody is trying to sneak a kid out. Possibly our kid. Not sure. And the red guys are following them. Hmm.

Oh, a bird. Tragic hero lord guy calls it a sparrow and a spy from the window of heaven, which... okay, but it's definitely NOT a sparrow. Maybe it's just a not so good translation.

Aww man, and now my tree's on fire! :(((( Why can I never have nice things? :(

Now it's raining yellow paper thingies. They kinda look like those smiley potato chips thingies that you can get in the freezer section at the supermarket.

Oh, they're weapons from the red guys. And the guy who's trying to sneak the kid out... is that the boatman?

Oooh, tragic hero lord guy jumps in. If that WAS the boatman, then he's getting paid alright. Heh.

Ok, wth? Swords are not supposed to be that bendy. That does not look like a good sword. How are you gonna stab anybody with a wobbly, shaky weapon like that?

And smirky guy is sitting on the window sill watching the situation unfold like a supermodel waiting to be called onto the runway. Instead of... like... HELPING?! Wth?

And he's an alcoholic too? Hmm

K, that was a short stay, they're back on the boat

Eww, the red guys cut of somebody's arm. Wait, is that the dad from before? And the others are... the kid's brothers? Maybe? Oh, whoever they are, they're supposed to have the glazed armor, and the red masked guys want it. And they're gonna kill them all? That's brutal, man.

But if they ARE the kid’s brothers and they’re about to die, then at least I won’t get them confused, so there’s a plus side.

Anway, alcoholic tanned tragic hero lord guy, the boatman and the kid are in some dusty place. And the boatman is savage as fuck. He wants his money, lol. I like him.

Oh no, so much information. I'm so bad at this. So the kid is supposed to hide at 5 lakes, but doesn't want to. And somebody saved somebody, I have no idea. I wanna know if alcoholic tanned tragic hero lord guy is gonna go meditate again, because it looks like he wants to.

And now the potato smileys are flying in again. Great. I'm never gonna unsee the potato thing now.

Anyway, alcoholic tanned tragic hero lord guy who seriously NEEDS A NAME(!!!) is getting smelly again. And the kid wants to defend them all and instantly drops the sword. That does not look good.

So many red masked guys.

LOL, alcoholic tanned tragic hero lord guy needs 15 minutes. To smell better, maybe.

Wow, the old boatman is a good fighter, but he stands no chance. Are he and the kid really the ones supposed to fight, while tragic hero guy is being smelly and smirky guy is still chilling who knows where?

See the stinky fumes?

Whoa the kid is willing to sacrifice himself for alcoholic tanned tragic hero lord guy. Who is just as surprised as me. And if it weren't for somebody intervening, they'd both be dead. Who is it?

Yooooooooo, purple girl coming in to the rescue. Of course. Need a job well done, leave it to the woman.

Wow, she's so badass. And the kid and the boatman are helping too. Alcoholic tanned tragic hero lord guy went back to meditating.

:O There were two nuts!!! I saw them!!! Is nuts guy one of the red masked guys?

Oh, NOW alcoholic tanned tragic hero lord guy is starting to fight. Probably smelled the nuts and got into it.

LOL, wth? Now that he's done fighting, he faints? And THAT's when smirky guy shows up? To catch him? And alcoholic tanned tragic hero lord guy wakes up again instantly to fight.

Lololol, wth? Smirky guy is like "Heh, you cute, let me wrap your sword around us." ;)

Maybe the wobbly bendy sword is a flirting technique and actually does serve a purpose.

He has really long fingers too.

Just saying.

Aww, would have been a cute moment if the boatman weren't deadly hit. And now he's smelly too. Wait, do smelly fumes mean doomed to die?

Ohh, he's gonna make him adopt the kid, isn't he?

Alcoholic tanned tragic hero lord guy drops a name, and says he's Zhou Xu. Is that his real name? Feels like smirky guy would probably recognize him if he gave his real name. But also maybe not. I know nothing. And smirky guy is mysterious as fuck. But I’ll take the name,because it’s shorter than the one I gave him.

Boatman is still a bit rude, threatening to curse Zhou Xu’s ancestors if he doesn't take care of the kid. Aren't they cursed already? Anyway, boatman can't know that.

Ok, old boatman has died and the kid is adopted. Cool, cool.

Oh, some fighter guys in nicely pleated skirts... who are they? Are they the guards of the manor? Are they there to help the kid? Whoever they are, they came too late and they set off fireworks.

Ok, smirky guy introduces himself. Wen Ke Xing. Oh boy, I hope I can remember that name.

Why is the kid dizzy? Did he get hurt?

Now they're discussing about the bread and nobody's willing to eat first while the kid is empty handed and very clearly hungry as hell. I feel so bad for him.

Why does smirky guy come across so snobby? I wanna like him.

Wow, they finally give the kid some food and now HE's refusing to eat it as well.

Purple girl is the only person actually getting fed tonight.

I mean, she deserves it. She fought the hardest.

Oooooh, smirky Wen Ke Xing guy is onto Zhou Xu lord guy. First stares him up and down while he's resting (lusting much?) and then flat out asks if he's in disguise.

Oh and the kid IS hurt. And smirky Ke Xing is the only one to realize too. He's redeeming himself. A little.

Zhou Xu lord guy doesn't want him to touch the kid though. Why?

Oooh, they're dancing again.

LOL, purple girl gets it. I saw that smile. I bet she's a shipper. What is the ship name? KeXu? ZhouXing? I literally had to scroll up and reread the names. We should just call them smirklord.

Okay, end of episode.

What did I learn? Names were dropped.  Zhou Xu lord guy has adopted the kid. Smirky guy is called Wen Ke Xing. He comes across a bit shady and pretentious and also flirty. Very flirty. But Purple girl is cool, and she trusts him so he must be kinda cool too. Still don't know who they really are and what they want. Like any of them. So far, I like the kid and purple girl best. I hope they all travel together to bring the kid to... wherever he's supposed to go.

Goals for future episodes: Find out who nut guy is. Learn the freaking names reliably. Find out people's connections to each other.

[thorne93]

Long Lost Love (Part 9)

Prompt: Clint just lost everything. He turns to you – an old friend and an old flame – for comfort. Can you keep your old feelings at bay? Can he?

Word Count: 2042

Warnings: The Snap, grief, loss, mentions of abuse throughout series, angst will be the best friend in this fic

Note: This was written after IW, but before Endgame - so I have my own take on how certain things happened. Couldn’t have done this without @arrow-guy @carryonmyswansong @like-a-bag-of-potatoes (my amazing betttaa!) @mrs-dragneel-stark-solo

Aesthetic by @dontshootmespence

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Business picked up again rapidly as everyone returned to semi-normal. You were working longer hours, which helped to keep your mind off the fact that your heart had been broken worse than it ever had been. 

You didn’t sleep much anymore and you hardly ate, but then again, you didn’t have time. Your appointments were stacked back to back and it was all you could do to keep up with them. You found an apartment not too far from your clinic and tried to furnish it. A lot of your belongings were still….

Well they weren’t with you, that’s all that mattered.

It was all you could do not to think about him, about what had happened. How everything went from so blissfully perfect to catastrophic in a matter of hours. You didn’t know what could’ve happened. 

Laura seemed so...agreeable, understanding, diplomatic. At most, it seemed like she would hear you and Clint out. You thought the three of you could sit down and at least discuss what had happened, options, a future goal. But there was no discussion. 

Was it even Laura’s fault though? Or did Clint just not want you and everything he’d said was a lie? Maybe you really were just a stand in for Laura. He seemed to have little trouble removing you from his life -- a lot. At some point you had to face the music and realize that Clint Barton just didn’t love you the way you loved him. 

It hurt, it was a hard pill to swallow, but that’s life. The one man you thought you could always count on let you down yet again and you were done letting him get away with it. 

You decided to move on, to never talk to him again or think about him if you could help it. It was hard, considering he was all you thought about, but you knew that little by little, day by day, it would get easier… You hoped. 

You lived without his love for years before, you could do it again, right? 

Three months had passed by now and you hadn’t heard one word from either Laura or Clint, or even Nat for that matter. You pressed on though, you had a clinic to run and a career to attend to. 

On a frigid night, you locked up your clinic and began walking towards your new apartment. You hoped to get in some warmth soon because this chilled wind was like knives against your face. You pulled your coat tighter around you when you heard someone yell your name. 

“Y/N,” the hauntingly familiar voice yelled out to you. You stopped walking, the cold wind whipping at your face. You turned to see him jogging up to you.

When he got close to you, you were tempted to just turn and leave but instead you spoke. 

“Clint? What do you want?” you asked, hoping to get whatever this was over with. God it was so painful to see him. Shards of ice entered your veins as you saw him approach. Maybe he was reaching out so you’d get the rest of your stuff out of their house. 

“I want you to come back,” he said, panting. 

Time stood still. You were speechless for a moment, dumbfounded at the request. 

“What? Why? Just a few months ago, you told me to get out of your house without any discussion and now you suddenly want me back? That doesn’t make any sense. You chose her. Do us all a favor and stick with your decision.” You were about to turn and tell him to kick rocks when he spoke up quickly.

“It was a rushed decision. I saw my wife standing there and I panicked. I thought the right thing to do would be to send you away. I had no idea how to handle it. I had no idea how to look at my wife to tell her I was in love with someone else. So I just pushed you away, I thought it’d be easier than actually dealing with it. There was no winning in that situation.”

“Yeah, clearly,” you said sarcastically with your hands stuffed in your coat pockets, your neck burrowed in your scarf. “What do you want?” you demanded, as your teeth clenched together. “Why do you insist on tormenting me? Can’t you just let me go? You clearly never wanted me after the circus so why--”

“I was coming back for you, all those years ago, at your clinic,” he informed almost angrily. You never knew this. He never told you this. He had said that he was visiting you, but not that that’s explicitly what the visit was for.

This threw you for a loop. You had no idea that’s why he came. 

“If that’s the case then why the hell didn’t you ask me out?” you asked, shaking your head. This didn’t make sense. 

“Because you said you were too busy for guys. I figured your life was good enough without me in it, you didn’t need me ruining that. I thought you had moved on.” 

“I didn’t move on, Clint,” you snarled. “I’m not the one that got married, you did! Not me!” 

“What do you want me to do, Y/N? Do you want me to apologize for finding Laura, for having a family?”

You took a step closer to him, fire in your eyes as you said, “No, Clint, I want you to apologize to me for giving up on us when I never did.” 

He gave you a look you’d never seen. Guilt, betrayal, hurt. Tears built in his eyes. 

“I--”

You shook your head as tears of your own streamed down your face. “Look, I tried to move on, I did. I went on date after date trying to forget you, trying to replace you. But nobody is you.” Your gaze steeled on his, years of heartache spilling out into this confession. “I mean, how was I supposed to move on from something that wasn’t supposed to end? I hoped… I hoped that when we got our lives sorted out, you’d come find me, and ask for me back, and that never happened. And I couldn’t figure out why. I couldn’t figure out why I wasn’t good enough… and she was.” 

“Y/N, it wasn’t like that. Letting you go was the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do,” he stated, his eyes boring into yours and you believed him. 

But a humorless laugh escaped you. 

“Then why did you do it?” 

“I had to.” 

More tears spilled out as you shook your head and bit your lip. “I told myself that I’d grow up, you know? That I’d be fine. That you were just some stupid crush, or a first love. Everyone gets over their first love, right?” You shook your head, smiling at him for a brief second. “Not me, not when it’s with you. I tried to compete with her for years, and clearly, I didn’t make the cut… so why now?” 

He slightly shook his head. “I can’t change the past, Y/N. I just can’t. There are a hundred reasons why I walked away all those years ago. To keep you safe, to keep me safe, because I was confused, hell I did it because I thought our time had passed. But I’m asking you now, to come with me, to be with me. Laura is back, but I want you. This is my second chance, and I’m not screwing it up again.” 

“Tell me why now. Why not years ago? You could’ve had me, there was a time after we split up, and before you met Laura that you could’ve asked for me back. Whether or not you thought I moved on, you could’ve validated it, and you didn’t… so why now?” 

“Because I forgot just how much I loved being around you. I’ve always loved you, Y/N. You should know that. I let you go because I thought that’s what was best, for both of us… But then, you got back into my life and I remembered. I remembered just how much fun you are, how much you make me laugh, smile. How much confidence you give me. That even when the world is literally ending, you’re there. I know I fucked up. I know we missed out on a lot of years together, and I don’t want to do that again.” 

“Those years, that life, that was supposed to be ours. Those kids… I know you better than anyone. You know me better than anyone. We grew up together. We saved each other. And you just… you walked away from all of it.” 

“What was I supposed to do, hmm? Was I supposed to put you in danger? When I got my shit together, I was with SHIELD. We couldn’t have families, we couldn’t have normal lives. I didn’t want that for you. That’s why I made us go our separate ways when we were teenagers. I knew they’d look for us for a while. Then, when you got your life up and going, I thought ‘How could I ruin this for her?’ Y/N, you were finally happy, free from torture and worrying about everything. Why would I want to find you, just to tell you that you’d have to worry about me every day. I couldn’t ask you to do that. I thought you’d moved on, yeah, but I think deep down, I wanted you to move on. I didn’t want to hold you back or keep you living in fear.” 

“Is that what Laura does? Does she live in constant fear as her beautiful children run around their gorgeous farmhouse? The farmhouse I had always dreamed of? Clint, wake up and smell the coffee. You gave Laura the life I wanted, everything down to the front porch and acreage.” 

“I know I did, because I wanted to capture some semblance of what we had. And yes, Laura lived her life in fear every day, constant worrying. She begged me to hang it up for years. Is that what you wanted?” 

“I wanted a life with you. It didn’t matter what life that was. We already lived through Hell--”

“So why would you want to do it again?” he countered, his voice terse, his face hard. “Don’t you see what I’m trying to tell you? I gave you up, so you could have a better life. Was it a mistake? Hell yes. Can I fix it? No, but I’m trying like hell now to get you to come back with me, to come home with me, where we belong together.” 

“Is it really going to be that easy? Can we just… fall back into place? Can we be what we were?” 

“We already are. We’ve already found our way back to each other. Do you really want to lose that again?” 

Still crying, you shook your head no. 

“Then come back with me. We can sort everything out when we get there, but at least we’ll be together.” 

You stared at him, not sure whether you could go through another heartbreak from this man if it came to it. You were so close to just letting him go for good, moving on, finding some shred of dignity to cling to. But how could you ever say no to him. 

He could see the apprehension in you, he could see the glistening in your eyes, the way you bit your lip. He took a step closer to you, his hands going to either side of your head as he spoke, his forehead resting against yours. 

“Y/N, I love you, I’ve always loved you. I never stopped. Not when we got off that train, not when I married Laura, not when I told you to leave when she came back. I never stopped loving you, and I never stopped being too stupid to stop you from leaving either. But I am now. Please, be with me. I don’t want to live my life any longer without you by my side.” 

All you did was nod, and he held out his hand, praying you’d take it. Without much hesitation, you did.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

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[dahniwitchoflight]

Homesquared Chapter 14

lol gotta love John’s enthusiasm of being part of the movers and shakers getting shot down cuz he hasn’t actually flexed his Main Character Muscles in quite a long time

though he’s honestly taking his mid life crisis very well all things considered, its good he cares more about his kids than anything else and I like the bond he’s getting to make with Harry, it’s nice!

Now what’s a million times funnier though is the same thing happening to Vriska, she is decidedly NOT taking her midlife “but but I want to be important too!!” crisis not nearly as well as John is haha

VRISSY: I guess you Did go Viral, 8ut the news moves so fast these days. I don’t think Any8ody is like...

VRISSY: Glued to their phones Waiting for your New Hashtag Resistance content.

Yeah Vriska, you’re so 15 minutes ago :P people have moved on

what, did you think you were going to be important forever?

VRISKA: What’s the point of me even coming to this shitty fake reality if I’m not supposed to fix it?

to have a mid life crisis about not being important anymore obviously :P

VRISSY: Yeah, they told me about That stuff, but a Lot of the Shit that Happened in the Session if just not in the History Books.

VRISSY: You weren’t Really mentioned that Much.

VRISKA: Excuse me?

I Am Living For This Whole Conversation

VRISKA: I SINGLE H8ND8DLY!

VRISKA: CURED YOUR MOTHER’S FUCKING ALCH8LISM!!!!!!!!

JOHN: uh, vriska, everything okay over there?

VRISKA: EVERYTHING’S FINE, J8HN!

JOHN: okay.

JOHN: do you girls want a snack?

ASJHGFSHFHWE yeah calm down Vriska have a snack 

ahh, loving it

Turns out, History is written by the people who were left who decided to give a damn about writing it, and if those people Don’t Like you, they can just decide to not mention you, no matter who you are or what you did

All your “important” accomplishments are for naught and have become meaningless because you’re an asshole and other people didn’t like you enough to decide that you mattered in the long run

Congrats! Infamy doesn’t matter as much as Connection

Aww, cute with Annie getting hug bombed by her moms

Though, Rose definitely has a stronger bond with Annie than just being her surrogate it looks like

I understand this family situation just fine, if Annie really was just supposed to be a way for Jade to overcome her lonliness, and Rose was her only functional way and only person she could approach with this idea, and Rose responded out of care for her friend

Rose, shouldn’t really have a distinct mom attachment here, because then it implies a stronger than platonic relationship with Jade

but it could just be a great example of “this is why you don’t agree to create a child with your friend purely because said friend was crying out of lonliness out of failed relationship and wanted a child to fill that void of lonliness but who then shoves said child off the sidelines and doesn’t interact with her at all and leaves her in the hands and care of a supposed enemy and

yknow, I think I’m just gonna stop there before I remember Jake also knew about Yiffany existing so if the only ones who didn't know were John/Dave/Karkat and Kanaya then what was honestly the point of hiding her in the first place

Its not the fact that Yiffany exists that Im finding hard to believe, its just hows she treated narratively after she started existing thats stretching my rubber band into a dangerous area

“ROSE: Is it the libidinous power rush that comes from snapping your fingers at men with guns, or are you worried that you might accidentally do something heroic?

(its the latter)

“She stopped thinking about how she would be received, and more about how she could play to the people she knew would receive her favorably.

Looking up she sees Tavvy with tears in his eyes. Rage and guilt surge inside her. This situation is not her fault.”

Gotta Justify It. Gotta Justify It.

Doesn’t matter if I’m Right or Wrong, if enough other people validate me than Everything is Fine and I’m a Good Person.

JANE: So before you accuse me, take a look at yourself!

JANE: I'm the only one who has taken any interest in her upbringing or education!

JANE: Or have you forgotten who has been paying for her schooling and taking charge of her introduction into society?

JADE: i never asked you to do that!

JADE: you offered!

Okay but Jade, you DID let Jane have Annie in the first place and then presumably washed your hands of her, when supposedly the only reason Annie exists is because you wanted a daughter with whom you could have a loving relationship with

You gotta, explain you’re thinking there Jade cuz I still don’t get this bit

Though in thinking about it, I think I know why this happened

Jade grew up isolated from any person, but still loved her grandfather, despite his absence

to her, family relationships didn’t involve any sort of personal work, they were just things she had because she had them

did she just believe the same would happen for Yiffanny? that she could paradoxically still have a relationship despite long absences? Annie doesn’t seem to have any resentment here for Jade or Rose so I mean ???

“ If they were to kill Tavros, the entire world would see them commit this war crime. And weighed in the balance, Lalonde and Harley would be off the playing board. Saving your daughter certainly counted as a heroic death, and with the damage they'd done to humanity, it would also probably be just. “

She hates them both so much she’d let Tavros die for it

But also, she really does calculate everything in terms of how the Masses would view their actions as Just or Heroic

so yeah, she was absolutely about to let Tavros die, damn Jane

literally the only thing that stopped you was that Jake viewed the threat as a real threat and was about to do something stupendously Heroic to save Tavros and you decided you didn’t want Jake to die a heroic death

On the flipside, oh damn, Yeah Vriska’s going full throttle right on the nose ahead with the obvious audience expectation, that there gonna make another sburb session and get the obvious group of important 4 kids to god tier

that’s clearly the path vriska wants and expects, but hey, just imagine if what Vriska wanted to happen didn’t happen this time, imagine if the kids were just like “nah im good?” when it comes to a god tier

The narrative is making it super clear that at least 3 out 4 kids are kinda not feeling all the outdoorsy action and excitement of a game of life and death

Annie though I could hella see her down to play sburb and get a god tier, shes got that whole “isolated childhood trauma and parental issues pressure cooking her a strong will to take her life into her own hands” energy

Vriska, go see Annie, her strong willed butt is more of the action girl you’re looking for I think

At least if they do end up playing the game and getting the tiger, Annie feels like the first one to do it or the action catalyst of their session, like how Vriska was for hers, or Dirk for the alphas, or

hmm. who was is that kinda, moved things along for the Beta’s again? I think it was Rose, but Dave did a ton to move things along as well, but also their trolls like Terezi and them gave everything big nudges, I think Rose counts as the equivalent Beta in session mover and shaker though

Side note: the panels with vrissy and vriska here very feel cartoonish and light hearted, interesting choice

but it does give off Major “Play Game: Level 1″ vibes if that makes sense

What the fuck is with the Dave Soldiers

I mean, they look more like Red Johns?Jakes? with the black hair

the glasses throw me off though-

UHH DID THEY JUST FUCKING KILL HARRY ANDERSON??

HOLD ON. HOLD UP

TAVROS AND ANNIE: WITH ROSE/JADE/JAKE/JANE

VRISSY: WITH VRISKA DOWN BELOW

HARRY: WITH JOHN. ON JOHN’S COUCH.

JOHN IS ALSO STILL HERE, MEANING HARRY SHOULD BE WITH HIM.

yeah he literally just went outside for a second to see where the V’s went and then the house gets bombed, and we get three whole panels dedicated to John slowly sitting down in the wreckage

Harry Anderson just got fucking killed holy shit.

oh my god, they were leading up to it too.

We just had three seperate death flags for the other 3 kids in a row

Brain Ghost Dirk warned Jake that Annie was gonna die via electrocution unless he stepped up

Jane was gonna let Tavros die vie neck snapping (even though Kanaya really wouldn’t have)

Vriska and Vrissy discuss god tiering, and what it would mean for Vrissy, death is a subtle implication there but still there

Now to see if Jane’s ever revived Harry Anderson before in the next update I suppose :o

*edit*

They did not kill Harry Anderson, I saw pumpkins in front of the house that got exploded and didn’t see it looks different than the other bland white suburban house that John actually left, so no one died, Harry just got his implied death threat turn

Harry is at Roxy’s House, John sits in the smoldering ashes of his childhood home, languishing in the idea that Jane, the girl who might have in another reality been his loving grandmother, actually wants him and his kids dead for realsies

he never really got to sit and think about the hole where his home was that the meteor struck when he entered sburb huh? (I know his house came with him, giving the allusion all was well in the Medium, but a real meteor still struck the place that he stopped existing on OG Earth, to an outside observer, it would look like a meteor destroyed his home)

with Vriska talking about sburb to Vrissy, it is nice imagery to imagine the implications of the Kids god tiering from Earth C

and the destruction left in their wake

[elsanna-shenanigans]

February Contest Submission #13: A Special History Class

words: ca. 6000 setting: mAU lemon: no cw: dating first day they meet

“It took place in 1343,” I answer. The history teacher is becoming intriguing with all the talking about Arendelle, which is good because I knew I needed to get a good grade on my classes for my future. Many of my classmates seem to like not listening to him though. 

  Mr. Kai, my teacher, is talking about Arendelle and he is now at the part where Queen Elsa abdicated. My mom said that I was named after her sister, Princess Anna, or after Queen Elsa abdicated, Queen Anna. This is why this lesson is interesting, I want to learn more about Arendelle.

  “Okay,” Mr. Kai spoke up, “I now need everyone to go into groups of three.” Oh…, well, that would be a problem. Everyone hates me for being a “nerd,” so I have no friends. Thus, as expected, I am the only one without a group. I looked around the room again- wait, there’s someone else! 

  It’s Elsa, she’s so beautiful. I mean like, I’ve never talked to her or anything. I just know information about her. And, I’m not stalking her. I mean like, she doesn’t even have social media! Wait- no- um, I didn’t know that. Anyway, she’s like a literal goddess. Well, besides the fact that she’s 18 and not 300. This girl, er, adult? Whatever, this person- wait, that sounds weird. This human being? That sounds even weirder….

  Ugh, I’m head-rambling again. Or, whatever that’s called. I’m not even gonna try. Frick, I was staring at her too long, she’s looking at me. Or staring. Because I’m weird. Anyway, I immediately look away and towards the teacher for instructions. At least, I know how she looks. She has gorgeous platinum blonde hair, icy eyes, in a good way. Or is that an insult? I don’t even know. Just- platinum blonde hair, blue eyes, and pale skin. Which all are beautiful. But I didn’t see her clothes. Wait, is pale skin an insult? If it is, I swear…. Do people even finish those? Or am I doing it- frick. Stop. Rambling. You. Stupid. Mind.

  Thankfully, Mr. Kai started talking again, so I hope I wasn’t in my head for too long. I don’t even know if that’s the correct phrase. “Hmm, what a coincidence, Anna and Elsa,” he chuckled. Her name’s Elsa, just like in Arendelle, I realize. And I’m supposed to be her sister. But that would be weird if we started dating. Why am I even- ugh. Get. Your. Head. Together. Anna. Swan. 

  I shake my head before focusing all my attention on the teacher. “Does anyone want to work with me?” he asks. I thought he would have him, Elsa, and me in a group, but he must’ve wanted others to choose. However, I still put my hand up, excited and smiling, “I can!” “Great,” he grinned, “anyone else?” Everyone, and I mean everyone, stay silent. My smile slowly fell…, why was I excited? Who in the right mind would want to work with the teacher? Or work with the teacher and the nerd?

  Right before I was about to slump down in defeat, I heard a soft voice say, “I will.” I whipped my head to find the source and landed my eyes on Elsa. Her head was facing down, but she was looking at me with a shy smile. As much as I don’t want to admit it, my breath hitches. 

  I force my head to turn back to Mr. Kai and I swear I can see a spark of hurt in Elsa’s eyes before she turns stoic. I want to apologize, do something, but the teacher started speaking again, “Okay then, Elsa and Anna! Come up here and I will discuss how you would do your work. The rest of you, just discuss how you would finish your project.”

  Ah dang, I must’ve been lost in my thoughts that I didn’t hear him say what we have to do. At least he would explain it to us again. I get up from my seat and glance at Elsa, but her face is still stoic. I force my head to face the teacher again and start walking to him. 

  We each got on one side of Mr. Kai’s desk at the same time. I would say that it’s cute and a bit cliché that this happened if it wasn’t for Elsa’s still stoic face. “Okay then,” the teacher says, interrupting me from looking any lower to see her fricking clothes, “I told you to choose three royals, and how they connect. Within the few minutes we have left, decide what three royals you want in your project, write the information about one of them, then give that one to me, and talk about where you are going to meet up. Got it?” I answer, “Yep,” while Elsa nods. 

  He gestures for us to go back to our seats and we start going there. Since Elsa is not saying anything, I speak up, “Do you want to talk at my desk?” She nods. Come on Elsa! Just speak up! 

  Once we are at my desk, I gesture at my chair, “Do you want to…?” She shakes her head. Ugh, Elsa! I. Want. To. Hear. You. Say. More. Than. Two. Words. I sit in my chair, and I am about to speak up, but Elsa beats me to it, “Are you one of Hans’s secret goons to make my life miserable?” I whip my head to her, “What??” “I’ll just tell Mr. Kai that I don’t want to work with you anymore,” Elsa said, letting out a breath of annoyance. 

  “No, please don’t,” I plead, “I don’t work for him or anything.” Elsa looks like she is having a mini-debate in her head before she answers, “Fine. But if anything is evidence that you do, I will never work with you again and I would ignore you.” I give her a crooked smile, “Fine with me. Now, who should we do?” “Queen Anna, Queen Iduna, and Queen Elsa?” she asks, finally giving another shy smile. I barely succeed in fighting back the urge to not kiss her, and answer, “Sure. Mr. Kai does Queen Iduna?” Elsa nods, and for once, I enjoy it, because she is grinning.

  “You write the things that connect her with them automatically, like since they were born, and I’ll write the actions that she did,” I tell Elsa, taking the lead. Instead of nodding or answering, she goes to her desk and takes out her notebook and pen, and comes back. I can see that her notebook has a black background with some kind of large snowflake in the middle. Her pen is decorated with little snowflake stickers. 

  She starts writing while standing up, and I want to offer her to use my desk, but she seems too into the work. Her eyes are concentrated on what she’s writing and she is slightly chewing her lips. I turn back to my paper before she notices me staring at her, flustered. I push every thought of her to the back of my mind, but I can feel them slowly trickling in. 

  Thank goodness I finish before all the thoughts come in. It is then I look up and realize that Elsa was staring down at me. “You have good handwriting,” she comments softly, but not as quiet as a whisper. Oh gosh, she just complimented me. She complimented me! Well, my handwriting, but still. Elsa complimented me! However, I feel the heat rising my cheeks and immediately look down, all the excitement gone, “T-Thank you.” I feel as though that would be a good thing though because I probably would have kissed her anyway.

  The bell starts ringing and I finally understand the phrase “Saved by the bell.” “Come on,” I utter, hoping that she doesn’t notice my redding cheeks. Elsa smiles and goes to get her backpack while I get mine. Once I get everything cleaned up, I see that she is already waiting for me by the door. Again, I blush. Ugh, I wish there was some kind of thing to turn blushing off. There should be- no. No, don’t go head-rambling again. 

  I pick up my backpack and paper and walk to Mr. Kai to hand it to him. He smiles and I smile back, hoping none of my thoughts in my head are shown. I walk to Elsa and greets her, “Hey!” She giggles, “Um, hi?” I realize how weird that sounds and blush, “Sorry!” I squeak. “It’s fine,” Elsa gives a small smile and starts walking. I follow and nervously laugh. 

  “So,” she started, “do you want to come to my house to work on our project?” “Sure,” I answer, then shake my head to get rid of the last bit of nervousness, “I walk here, do you have a car or something?” She stops to put her stuff in her locker and replies, “Nope, I walk here too, we can go together.” 

  Suddenly, someone laughs from behind us, “The nerd and the shy girl, huh?” We both turn around and see no other than the one and only Hans. I grit my teeth and stand right in front of Elsa protectively, “If you want to hurt her, you would need to go through me.” He laughs wickedly, “That would not be a problem.” He grabs my shoulders and pushes me back. From the sudden movement, I move my arms and I feel my elbow hit something before I fall. He laughs his evil laugh and walks away. 

  I look at the situation I’m in and it’s not good at all. Damn it. I wanted to protect Elsa, and look how that ended: Elsa on the floor, below me. Without wasting more time, I get up and hold a hand out for her to get. She grabs it and for a second, I was lost in my inner turmoil before I snapped myself back to the present. Oh, well…, that was new. We’ve never actually had skin-to-skin contact, so that was… nice. Even if Elsa’s hurt. Wait, right, she‘s hurt! Damn it, Anna. I immediately pick her up, and once she’s standing, she leans to me. 

  I brush away the fact that like a quarter of our body is touching, and instead ask, “Elsa, are you okay?” Ugh, that was a stupid question, of course, she’s not. I open my mouth to correct myself, but she beats me to it. “I… am mostly fine,” she answers. However, I can tell she’s lying, and that she’s more hurt than she lets on, but I brush that fact away because of how vulnerable she looks.

  Her head is down, teeth biting lips, with her arms wrapped around herself. “Come on, Elsa,” I start in my softest voice, “I just need to put away my stuff, then we can go.” She just nods and goes to follow me. My locker is near the entrance and exit of the school, so at least we would not take as much time. I look back at her worryingly, and ask, “You didn’t get hurt anywhere on your legs or anything, right?” She nods again. I want her to talk, but I understand why she cannot. She must be in much pain right now.

  I don’t want to make her embarrassed, so I decide to wait until we get to her house before healing her. Or helping her. Whatever that’s called. I’m almost at my locker, and Elsa looks a bit worse than before. If we, er, I don’t get her treated in time, then she might be in pain for a longer period. I’m finishing putting my items in my locker and we walk out of the school together. 

  Without saying anything, Elsa holds my hand. The sudden movement makes me tense up and stops walking. I hear mumbling, “Sorry, I should have asked you before.” I look to the right of me and see that Elsa’s lips are getting chapped from her biting. “Elsa,” I say softly, “you can hold my hand. I would love that. The movement just was sudden to me, so I tensed up. It’s fine.” “Are you- are you sure?” I hear her whisper. I don’t answer, I just get her hand and hold it. After a few seconds, I feel her squeeze my hand before she starts walking towards her house. We have small conversations, like what are our favorite colors, favorite movies, all that stuff. I totally have no idea about all this information she’s telling me. I would be thrilled if Elsa weren’t hurt though.

  When we are here, I tell Elsa, “I know you’re not as well as you say you are. Where are you hurt?” She says nothing for a few seconds, and we take that time to put our backpacks down, but then, she answers, “I’m fine.” I know she doesn’t want to accept help, I can be like that sometimes. Thus, I deadpan, “Elsa.” After a few seconds of silence from both of us, Elsa comes to me and hugs me tight. “It hurts,” she sobs, “It really hurts.” I hug her back and stroke her hair with my left hand. 

  When she calms a bit down, I lead her to her couch. I lay her down and ask, “Can you show me where it hurts most?” She looks down with pursed lips and stained cheeks, before taking her shirt off. Now, normally, my face would be the color of a tomato, maybe even redder. However, the only thing that has my attention, is a big, nasty, bruise right about her left breast. My eyes widen and I think I know the answer, but I ask anyway, “Was that me who did that? D- Is that the thing that my elbow hit?”  I immediately want to kick myself for calling her body a “thing,” but before I can explain, she’s already talking. “I- um…, yes,” she whispers the last part, or, erm, word. 

  I want to- I need to apologize to her, “Elsa, I’m so sorry-.” “It’s not your fault,” she interrupts me and finally looks up, “it’s Hans’s. And I’m glad I found out that you don’t work for him or anything, but I’m sorry I had to find out this way.” I open my mouth to answer, but I realize that we have wasted enough time, instead, I ask, “Do you have any ice packs?” “Yeah,” she answers, eyes back down, “the kitchen is right behind you.” I look behind me, because, duh, she said so, and I see another room… or a kitchen. I walk there and, for the first time since I entered her house, I look at my surroundings.

  The kitchen is like an extended room or something, the only way in or out is the doorway I just went through. Right in front of me is the fridge, nice, and beside it is a counter. Or two. If they are connected, is that still considered two counters? I have to search that up later. Maybe. I probably would forget. But anyway, right beside me to my right, that sounds weird, or across the counter, is the cooking stuff. There’s an oven, a stove above the oven, and another counter with a microwave and toaster. I want to look around more, but I just remember that Elsa is hurt. Heh, what a friend I am. Or classmate. Whatever we are. Dammit, I’m rambling again. Ugh! Anna. Just. Get. The. Fricking. Ice pack. 

  I walk the small way to the fridge, finally, and open the door. I suddenly smell chocolate and I see some in the refrigerator. Who puts chocolate in the fridge? Anyways, Anna. You are not here to go drooling on the chocolate. I scan the fridge for the ice pack, and along the way, I see normal items that belong in the fridge. Well, all, except that cursed chocolate. Not that the chocolate is cursed, it’s just cursed because it’s in the refrigerator. Wait, I just said that it was cursed. Ugh, I shake my head and grab the ice pack from the bottom shelf. 

  Looking around, I notice the paper towels on the counter. I rip a piece off, well, a big piece, and wrap it around the ice. Well, I don’t even know if I can use that term. I just feel like I’ve been using the word “ice pack” too much lately. Eh, oh well. I walk back to the living room, to the couch, to Elsa, and give her the ice. The ice pack. Whatever. 

  She smiles a pained smile, and whispers, “Thank you,” before she takes the ice. I blush for a moment, er, maybe a teensy bit more, when she brushes her fingers against mine. I know we held hands, but this seems a bit more intimate. She puts the ice on her chest and for once, I look at her body. She’s wearing a light blue bra, and they fit perfectly, that I can see her cleavage. Frick, that makes me sound like a pervert. Or maybe I already am. Ugh, dammit, Anna. Well, her stomach isn’t exactly toned, but not flat either. There’s like a trace of being toned? I don’t even know what it’s called. Well, basically. She. Is. Hot.

  Her jeans are a tone of light blue, but not as light as her bra. Dammit, I had to compare it to her bra. And not the sky. Or something, anything, else. I look at her, tracing her body shape with my eyes, but then, all of a sudden, I hear my name in the most beautiful voice. “Anna?” that voice softly called. I smile and look around for the source before I remember that I am in Elsa’s house. And was staring at her body. And I probably look exactly like a tomato right now. Frick. 

  Damn, right, Elsa called me, I need to say something. And that something is my stuttering, “Y-Yeah, El-Elsa?” I look at her, and I see that she is looking back at me, worryingly, “Are you okay?” she asks in the literal softest voice ever. But it’s so pretty too. I nod, “Yep, sorry, I was just lost in thought. I’m fine.” I see her debating about something in her head, well, I can’t read her mind, obviously, I just see her chewing her lips while looking down. I remember, or recall, that she does that whenever she is debating about whether or not to ask something. And this knowledge totally didn’t come from me stalking her for the past years. Well, not stalking, but yeah. Nevermind. 

  In the end, she looks up and asks, “C-Can you sit here with me?” My face lights up, like, literally, lights up. Well, not literally, literally, but yeah. I sit down with maybe a bit too much eagerness, but I don’t care. Elsa now fully turns to me and starts talking in that beautiful voice of hers, “Anna, I just want to start with a thank you. Thank you for trying to protect me. Thank you for walking me home. Thank you for taking care of me.” She puts the ice pack down. I try to protest, but she keeps going, “I know we just met, but I feel as if I’ve known you since forever.” I smile, “Elsa…,” but she just goes forward and hugs me. 

  This probably was meant platonically, but this is the most intimate hug I’ve ever gotten. I can feel her breasts pressed up against mine. Suddenly, I can’t take it anymore. I break the hug, and she looks at me, surprised, and I hold her cheek with my right hand. With my lips just inches away from hers, I mutter, “Elsa, can I kiss you?” 

  Her eyes go wide and her lips part. This probably is a bad idea. Yeah, it is. What have I done? I immediately open my mouth to start talking, even though I have no idea what I’m going to say. However, I never got the chance to do that, because Elsa already has both hands cupping my cheek and her lips are against mine. 

  I tense for a second, before I kiss her back, arms wrapping around her neck. This is probably weird to do, but don’t judge me, this is my first kiss. Too little time later, Elsa is the one who breaks apart. Instinctively, she looks down, a shy smile, and a pink face. At least her face is pink, mine is probably red! 

  It is obvious that she wasn’t going to say something, so I start, “So….” “So…,” she repeats back, eyes looking at me. “That… was something…,” I smile at her, shy for once. She nods, still smiles that cute and shy smile, and answers breathlessly, “Yeah….”

  I have no idea how to go on, so I just look down thinking. A bit later, I ask, “Is your bruise doing okay?” She looks at me with mirth, and I just realize how stupid that sounds. Regardless, she answers, “Yeah, it’s better, thanks to you.” “Just because I brought the ice pack?” I scoff, “That’s barely doing anything.” “Nope,” she simply answers, and explains, “You kissed me.” 

  I am blushing so much today, I could be an actor and act as a literal tomato. I look down, matching Elsa’s pose, except with redder cheeks and pursed lips. “Was- Was that something that’s okay to joke about?” she asks with concern. She has to ask about everything, oh my gosh. I hold back from rolling my eyes and look at her to answer, “Duh, you can joke about anything, everything is okay to me.” 

  She nods, slowly, probably not fully trusting me on that statement. Then, she suddenly turns to me and asks, “Don’t we have to finish the project?” She catches me off guard, so, duh, I jump a little, but still answers, “Oh, right. Um, yeah. We do.” 

  I swear I hear her snicker a little, “Was that kiss too much?” God, when did she become such a tease? I exhale sharply out of my nose in fake annoyance. “No, in fact,” I move my head closer until I am inches away from her face, and whisper, “I can kiss you again.” 

  Her face reddens, finally! I pretend to not notice and plop back to my seat on the couch. “But of course, we have to finish our work,” I answer casually, walking to our backpacks near the doorway. When I turn back with both our packs? Backpacks, man, I’m reusing these words so much, I see her pouting and her left hand holding the ice pack against the top of her left breast. I mean- her chest.

  “You good there?” I ask once I get there. “Mmhmm…,” she grumbles. I know it’s fake, but I know that she’s not faking being okay. Not that I have been stalking her or anything. Like, duh…. I take out my notebook and reach to take out Elsa’s. When I open it, I see a paper, like a bookmark, sticking out.

  Out of curiosity, I take the notebook out and start to flip to that page. I suddenly hear, “No, Anna!” but I’ve already flipped to that page. I know she’s an artist, but I’ve never known what she drew. Covering the entire page are pictures of us. Together. There are arrows in between them too.

  I start at the top left corner with the number one at the bottom left corner of the scene, and that is a drawing of our meeting. I’m excitedly looking at her while she crosses her arms over her stomach, looks down, and says, “I-I’m Elsa.” Following the arrow, the next picture is of us at the mall. Then the park. I see the whole page, all numbered, with our relationship growing. The last one is where Elsa is down on one knee, proposing to me. 

  I look up at Elsa with unshed tears in my eyes. “Y-You want this to be us?” I ask. Her head is hung low, eyes tightly shut, and tears are pouring out of them. “I-I understand if you don’t want to be friends with me anymore,” she sobs, “or whatever we are. I can also say that you don’t want to work with me anymore…, or that I don’t. Sorry, that- that’s confusing.”

  “Elsa,” I whisper, trying to get her to look at me, “you drew this before we met, right?” She nods, “I saw h-how you acted, so these drawings are based on that, but I didn’t follow you everywhere, because I know that would have been a bit creepy. B-But I’m still sorry….” “Elsa,” I console her softly, lifting her chin, so we can make eye contact, “I wouldn’t want to change anything in this relationship. In fact…, can I tell you something?”

  Elsa nods again. Thus, I admit, “During school, I follow you as much as I can. I know every period you have, I know what time you arrive at school, what you do before school starts, it’s just so many things. However, I only followed you in school, I didn’t know where you lived or anything.” She has remained expressionless during this whole time, so I have no idea how she’s going to react to this. 

  “So,” she still remains expressionless, “we’re both stalkers.” Wait, I see a hint to mirth in her! I immediately laugh, saying, “I guess so? So, we’re good?” She nods, content, “But what is our relationship?” “Dating, if that’s okay. I mean like, we know a lot about each other anyway,” I answer, hopeful. Her smile grows wider, “Sure, now, homework?”

  After several long hours, and Elsa putting her shirt back on, we decide to do the rest tomorrow or something. I’m supposed to be home in half an hour, but I want to stay. Thus, I go and ask Elsa, “Hey, um…, is it okay if I stay, I mean like, you don’t live with anyone else since your parents are… um, you know what. But, what I wanted to ask was that if my parents allow it, can I stay here overnight?” Her face lightens up, “Yes! Of course!” I mentally do a fist pump and get my phone to call my mom. 

  “Hello?” she answers after the third ring. “Hi! Yes,” I answer, “Can I stay at a friend’s house for tonight?” I see Elsa glance at me and I mouth, “I’ll tell her later.” “A friend, huh? Are you sure they’re not something else?” my mom asks, and I can tell that she is smirking on the other side of the line. “Mom!” I complain. “Not everyone I am friends with I like….” I then mutter, “Well, maybe besides this one.” “Oooh,” she taunts, then I hear her yell, “Agnarr! Anna found a… wait, who are they?” I groan, “She’s a she….” Mom hums, “She found a girl!” I hear my dad shout, “Tell me how lesbian sex is like!” I feel the heat coming up my face, and look towards Elsa. I can tell she heard that too because her face is red. “Dad. Stop. That,” I grit my teeth.

  I hear him humming in the background before my mom finally speaks up, “Okay, but seriously, I hope she likes you back. Have a fun time, Anna, and make sure to wear her clothes!” “Mom!” I yell, but I hear the beep of her hanging up. I facepalm with my phone in my hands and walk to where my phone was before. 

  “So,” I hear Elsa speak up, “uh, that’s a yes?” “Mmhmm,” I answer, still blushing from my dad’s comment. Or, whatever that was. They think we’re just friends, yet he comes and asks, “Oh, how is lesbian sex like?” Like did you have to yell it too? My fricking god, dad. 

  I walk back to Elsa who is still blushing because of my dad, and say, “I usually do more stuff at home, but since I don’t have my stuff here, can I just change into your clothes? I know, it’s a weird question, but this is seriously the only clothing I have that is in this house.” I gesture to my clothes. “Um, yeah, sure, okay,” she answers, “Choose whatever you want, um, here, I’ll lead you to the pajamas.”

  She walks to her room, at least I’m assuming it’s her room, not like her basement where she would keep me hostage or anything. But yeah, her room, and I follow. When we are inside, I take a quick look around, and just quick, or I probably would come off as stalker-ish. Her bed is furthest from me, in the corner. There’s a blanket covered in snowflakes on top. There’s really something with her and snowflakes. Then there’s her desk, filling up the rest of the room beside her bed. It’s organized, without a pencil or a piece of paper somewhere where it doesn’t belong. 

  I turn to find something else, but Elsa calls me, “And, uh, they’re right here.” I turn to her and she pulls out a drawer. “I’ll leave now, when you get done, I’ll go change too,” she leaves and locks the door behind me. Wow, that’s nice. I wanna look more in the room, but it might be weird if she hears a drawer closing like, five minutes later. So, I get my clothes first, a black t-shirt and green loose pants thing. I have no idea what that’s called. It’s like leggings, but looser. Is that even a word? Ugh, whatever, I quickly change into them. It is until I finish putting my clothes on that I realize Elsa would see me without a bra. Um, so, yay? I don’t even know if I should be happy. The blush on my face proves that I shouldn’t. Okay, I’m just actually really nervous. Why am I even lying to my head?

  Dammit, Anna. Wait, how am I going to put my bra in my backpack without looking weird? Like I can’t just hold it out when I pass by Elsa and say, “Oh, hey, don’t mind me. I’m just putting my bra in my backpack!” Like, maybe if I can do that to try it out, then reverse time, then I would, but like, none of that is possible. Ugh, I really should have brought my backpack in here. Maybe if I just hide it in my clothing? Wait, no, then Elsa would wonder if I sleep with it on. What. Am. I. Supposed. To. Do??

  Somehow, Elsa comes up to the door and knocks, “Hey, I’m going to the bathroom right now, so if you don’t see me, then that’s where I am.” “Okay!” I answer a bit too quickly. Like. Just. How? Okay, I never really believed in God or any gods for that matter, but was this their way to help me in some sort of distress or something? Oh, wow, now I’m saying that gods are real. I mean like, if Elsa believes in them, then I’ll accept that, but I wouldn’t believe in them too. Unless she convinces me otherwise, but yeah. Wow, am I going off-topic now? I usually would wait a few minutes to make it not seem like I didn’t want her to see me on purpose, but now, since I have been head-rambling, I guess I can go now. Well, so much for taking in Elsa’s room.

  I unlock and open the door, and quickly and silently, I make my way to the living room. There, I finally put my bra in. Wait, now that means I would have to take it to school. Dammit, Anna. Fricking god. Wait…, I would wear the bra tomorrow though. But I would wear it underneath Elsa’s clothes. Ugh…, don’t get distracted…. I’m about to facepalm before I hear the bathroom door open. 

  I immediately turn around, having no idea why I was expecting another person, but I was. Thus, my stupid self decides to blurt out something very stupid, “Oh, Elsa, hi!” Frick. Frick. Frick. If this was some sort of writing, like texting or something, then I would put out random letters, like, “D, g, w, i, l, w, p,” but this isn’t like that, so… yeah. I hear an amused chuckle, dammit Elsa, and a familiar voice, “Hi, Anna.”

  Dang it, dang it, dang it. This is so embarrassing. I would be randomly squealing, but not from happiness, but yeah. Duh. I won’t. Thus, instead, I answer, “Um, sorry, you just surprised me.” Yes! Finally, something that’s not stupid! Go on Anna, “So, uh, I mean, um….” No, no, no. What do I say? “Uh…,” I have no idea what to say, “I have no idea what to say.” Dammit, Anna! Or, Anna Two! It’s like my mind has two different minds. And one side is the speaker. For example, let’s say Anna Two is the speaker. She asks Anna One, “What do I say?” And since we are the same person, or, mind, Anna One answers, “I have no idea what to say!” Thus, Anna Two says out loud, “I have no idea what to say.” Curse my mind.

  I look up at Elsa and she’s laughing. Like, fully laughing. I would be delighted if she was laughing at any other situation, but she’s laughing at me. Like, at. Me. I roll my eyes, at least one of us is happy. A few minutes later, yes, a few minutes later, she finally succeeds in stopping to laugh. “I’m sorry,” she says, but I can still see some mirth in her face, “but, yeah, you can go brush your teeth, I have new toothbrushes and stuff.” “Well, thank you,” I say sarcastically. She just hums while she goes into her room to change. 

  I brush my teeth, not paying attention to anything, but my thoughts right now. I mean like, what’s going to happen in the future? Would Elsa and I get married? Well, even if we did, that would be a long time from now. Why am I even thinking about this? Probably because of Elsa’s picture or drawing or whatever that is. No offense to her. Or anyone. But like, she’s the only artist I know that is alive, so…, yeah. I know about Leonardo De Vinci or whatever his name is and someone whose first and last name starts with a “P.” And there is someone who painted the Mona Lisa. I don’t even know if that is correct. Or maybe the Leonardo De Vinci guy painted her. I heard it took a few years to finish the painting. 

  Wait, I’m already done brushing my teeth. And my head-rambling started with my future and ended with Mona Lisa. Well then. I guess… okay? I go to find Elsa, making sure I turn off the bathroom light. Her bedroom door is open and the lights, or, light? Well, the brightness is gone, wait, no, that sounds depressing. The…, well, nevermind. Elsa is not in her room, so she must be somewhere else. That must have been the most obvious statement I have ever said in my life. 

  I head down to the living room, and I see Elsa sitting on the couch, watching TV. I know we have to sleep soon, so I go up to her and say, “I’m sleeping on the couch tonight.” Unlike me, she doesn’t jump, she just turns around, says, “No,” turns off the TV, and lies down. “Elsa, I know this place like I’ve lived here my whole life, treat me like I live here,” I comment. She scoffs, “How many rooms are there?” That’s unexpected, “Um….” “You’re hesitating,” she pipes. “Dammit, Elsa,” I groan, “fine, sleep in your bed with me.” 

  Her eyes widen in surprise, and before I can say anything, she’s dragging me to her room. “Okay!” she squeals when we’re already in her room. We get to bed, not needing to turn on the light, er lights? Whatever, we do that and get in a comfortable position, which is cuddling each other. Suddenly, she mutters, “Tell me about the time when you became queen.” I chuckle, remembering how we started to act like we were Elsa and Anna from Arendelle. I have given up calling them “queen” and “princess” by now. Anyways, I start, “It took place in 1343….”

[gwoongi]

(abandoned) it’s late, just stay

john wick / reader genre: sugar daddy au rating: general, mature themes words: 2.4k warnings: sugar daddy relationship, slight john wick 2 spoilers i guess a/n: this 1 is for me. i wrote her in a heat,,,she’s literally not finished. but im adding her to my online portfolio 4 the memories. Also fyi the profile was made before i indulged in seeking arrangements and as a sugar baby i know that ur not allowed to mention 90% of brooklynbaby’s bio in ur bio but who cares man this is fiction and im making it up

At that, she tossed her head back with a laugh and leant forward. “And since when are sugar babies a relationship status?”

Sometimes, John doesn’t really know how he gets himself into awkward situations.

The first few occasions, he figured it was merely a case of being in the wrong place at the wrong time. While, actually, this always worked out in his favour, John began to notice that it was more frequent that he ended up at a bar with some people he didn’t really know, or being invited to a baby shower as the date of a woman he had never even met before. Granted, John enjoyed company whenever he could get it, and whenever it avoided conflict; however socialism has never been his strongest asset. No, he simply prefers silent gestures or glances across rooms, ‘eye conversations’ where he says hello and nothing else for the remainder of the evening.

“You just need to loosen up a bit,” is what Addy had told him, whilst slipping him a glass of straight Bourbon. It had been a relatively quiet evening in the Continental, and just when John thought he could have five minutes of peace and quiet, Addy has slipped in his line of sight. “You know, go out. Make new friends.”

“You’re my friend,” John replied. He made no room to elaborate on that statement, swallowing the contents of the drink and pushing it back to her with a short nod. She sighed and rolled her eyes, doing her job.

“No, you know what you really need?” He didn’t answer, glancing at her through his hair as she filled his drink and rested her weight on her elbows. Instantly, John didn’t like the feeling in his stomach when Addy raised her eyebrows suggestively, tugging on her bottom lip with newfound excitement: “I think you need to get laid.” 

And when John scoffed with humour, she tried again, “and not like, laid as in you have a one night stand. No- hear me out, John! You should invest in a sugar baby. You know, someone you can spend time with when you’re not doing the dirty work for everybody else. It’s fun, and frisky, and also means you can start spending some of the millions you have stashed somewhere not being used.”

She tutted like a scolding mother, “Selfish boy.” Addy then smiled, “Maybe instead of retirement, what you really need is something to help you unwind.”

John scoffed, gulping back the Bourbon. “I’m married.”

At that, she tossed her head back with a laugh and leant forward. “And since when are sugar babies a relationship status?”

That’s really all the thinking he had done on the subject of John- John fucking Wick- investing in a sugar baby. He simply took it in stride, almost complimented by the assumption that he was attractive and rich enough to have someone leaning on him for money and sex, and stored it away for future thought when he was lost and drunk. John never actually considered the possibility of “putting his bills to good use” until fucking Santino D’Antonio decided to light a bonfire inside his house. Having lost virtually everything related to Helen, he found himself back at the Continental, back to listening to Addy sympathetically give her condolences and five seconds later, introducing him to Seeking Arrangements.

John doesn’t know why he’s doing this, staring at the laptop screen that smiles at him. For circumstances, Addy had loaned him her laptop for the evening he spends at the Continental, and he’s too busy browsing the elaborately made profiles that he barely registers the fact that he is still wearing his suit. He pulls at the cuffs of his blazer and is midway through taking it off when he stumbles across a profile- one of which is oddly amusing- titled brooklynbaby. He racks his mind for the reference but can’t seem to place it.

“A sugar baby suggests that I sleep with them, and as I said,” John had mentioned back in the bar, “I’m married.”

Addy had grabbed his hands and groaned, “Look- you might surprise yourself. And, I’m not suggesting that you throw your wife away for somebody new. I’m just saying you need to...make use of yourself. Honestly, you’re too sexy to be stored away like this. Most sugar babies are dumb and unobservant, they won’t even know who you are.”

brooklynbaby makes an adorably hilarious first impression, and John is hesitant to browse her profile. If he wanted to “make use of himself” by investing all of his personal time into somebody who in truth wanted him for his dick and his bank balance, then it needed to be somebody at least near to his wavelength. Somebody who was smart, but clueless at the same time, and somebody who was the complete opposite of Helen. The last thing he needed on top of a handful of a baby was the guilt of moving on. But still, even when he pinned her tab and returned to scrolling through the profiles, John realised that most sugar babies were simply trolls hidden behind pretty pictures, or girls who wanted money for pleasure and not for need.

He went back to brooklynbaby. Three times. Three times, before he pinched the bridge of his nose, muttering a quiet, “Oh, fuck it,” and favoriting her account, and pressing to send a message.

Even online, John was never great with words. He typed, and backspaced, and typed again, trying to come up with something interesting to make up for the bland profile he made around thirty minutes ago.

From: johnwick So. You like dogs?

If Addy were here, she would have slapped him.

Almost immediately after it sends, John lets out a frustrated noise and tears his gaze away from the screen. Dating just wasn’t like how it was when he met Helen. Why did everything have to be so complicated, and mysterious, and why the hell does he even have to waste his money on somebody when he could be saving this money to eventually, whenever the day comes, retire? John wrestles with the dilemma of deleting the whole account when a notification bell rings through the laptop speakers.

From: brooklynbaby yes, I love dogs!!! :D (typing) do you have a dog?

John breathes a sigh of relief.

From: johnwick Yes. I do.

From: brooklynbaby oh, great. :) (typing)

John’s leg begins to bounce quickly, the table wavering with the glass on top, like an earthquake. Suddenly, brooklynbaby stops typing and John stills. Why did she stop? Did he do something wrong? Honestly, women are so hard to please nowadays.

From: brooklynbaby want to be my sugar daddy?

Never mind.

From: johnwick I would.

From: brooklynbaby cool

Neither him or brooklynbaby says anything for a few moments, and John doesn’t notice. After-all, he is still a working man, busy with life and revenge and trying to stay alive for more than three seconds. When he goes back to the laptop and sees no reply, he frowns.

From: johnwick I am sorry. I really don’t know what I’m doing. What am I supposed to say?

He makes a mental reminder to have words with Addy later.

From: brooklynbaby /(*u*)/ you’re cute we could make dinner reservations and talk over terms if you’d like!!! i say reservations because they’re fancy and if anything goes wrong, we can pretend we’re… business partners? discussing business?

Without even really realising, John finds himself laughing shortly, settling back into the chair. All of this feels weird, as in typing to a stranger he’s planning to spend his money on and occasionally fuck. John quickly revisits her profile and spends four minutes analysing her profile picture. If this is her, then she’s really very beautiful. A steal.

From: johnwick When are you free for dinner?

From: brooklynbaby hmm well i’m dogsitting tomorrow, but i can be free for the day after!!!! is that okay ^_^

From: johnwick That would be fine. [Address] at 7pm, does that work for you?

brooklynbaby pauses.

From: brooklynbaby omg am i gonna have to dress fancy?

From: johnwick Don’t feel pressured. I only own black.

From: brooklynbaby well….guess i’ll bring out like one of my old uni party dresses :( but you have to promise not to judge me!!!

John laughs again. At some point during the evening, he ends up with a planned dinner reservation at one of the most expensive restaurants in Brooklyn, and he’s also 2 grand poorer thanks to the generous donation in brooklynbaby’s bank account for a nice evening outfit.

When John returns the laptop to Addy the following morning, he was admittedly expecting the rant that followed. She had glared at the laptop being handed back over the bar and refused to serve him until he came up with a reasonably valid excuse as to why he wasn’t putting himself out there for a bit of company. John had blinked with an unimpressed look and drummed his fingers.

“I have dinner reservations with someone tomorrow at 7pm. Also- can I have a drink?”

But of course, with work being as tedious as ever and with his whole day being completely ruined by a blood stained shirt and poor room service for the first time in his many years of frequenting the Continental, John didn’t amuse himself with brooklynbaby until he logged onto the site on his phone, and saw that she had messaged thrice during the day. He almost felt guilty, until he saw a string of numbers at the end of the last message. He deemed it less necessary to read her above messages and instead went right to texting.

brooklynbaby ok. so should i just ask for mr john wick when i get to this restaurant??? sorry for so many texts im just kinda nervous

me Yes. I booked under my name and I will be waiting for you when you arrive. Why are you nervous? Didn’t you ask me to be here?

brooklynbaby well if we’re going to be technical then YOU asked me to dinner first :P and im nervous because i have nooo idea who you are send a picture?

John sank into bed.

me Maybe I like the element of surprise.

brooklynbaby seems a lil unfair that you get to see me but i dont get to see you :( ive seen ur dog before you thats saying something

me You could have used any image. If we’re going to be technical, I don’t even know your name, or if that is really you in the image.

John really hadn’t been expecting a full blown nude image at 4:15pm in the afternoon, but he will admit that it was nevertheless what he needed to break some steam. He had arrived at the restaurant twenty minutes earlier than expected, but that’s okay, Mr Wick. Right this way! Now that he was sitting here, at an empty table overlooking Brooklyn and the lights, with an already ordered bottle of wine, John could understand and relate to the first date nerves. He hadn’t felt this way in a long time. Not since-

brooklynbaby uhhh im kind of here like ten minutes early should i wait outside for you :3

He laughs, mostly to himself.

me I’m already up here. I ordered a rosé, is that alright?

brooklynbaby YES IM RUNNING

And, surprising himself also, John had clammed up and reached for his glass. Thankfully, the owner of this restaurant knew John by face and order, because, after-all, this had been his go-to with Helen. These days, he doesn’t have time to go out to new places and eat new things, and so had panicked, and picked a place with sentimental value, and a history of good food. He gulped back his glass of Bourbon and waited until the door at the other side of the room opened meekly, and he tried to appear vacant as the waiter led a woman across the room and towards him.

“Your date, Mr Wick.”

He left curtly and brooklynbaby followed his body as he left, her feet firmly glued to the floor as her head looked back over her shoulder. John took this as an opportunity to look at her body, covered in a beautiful dress he felt proud of paying for. Finally, brooklynbaby looked towards him and paused, observing him and his clearly surprising appearance. John then remembered the gash on his cheekbone and the way he probably looked very off-putting with an unshaven face and long hair, but brooklynbaby smiled softly and raised her brows, beating him to helping her in her chair as she quickly sat down and looked at his glass.

“How did you know I liked beards?”

John didn’t say anything for a moment. “I didn’t.”

brooklynbaby rolled her eyes with a grin. “Of course you didn’t.” She looked up, then, properly taking in his face. John did the same, looking at every feature present and coming to the quick conclusion that yes, she was definitely the woman in the pictures, and yes, she was one of the most gorgeous humans he had ever seen on planet Earth since Helen herself.

“You’re not what I expected,” she said honestly. “But, more than my expectations. I don’t believe I’ve really introduced myself- I’m Y/N. Y/N L/N.”

He tried it out in his head. Y/N. Y/N L.N, Y/N L/N, Y/N Wick-

“John,” he replied and she sniggered and rested her chin in her palms.

“You’re seriously so handsome,” she complimented. “Are you sure you’re not married, or something?”

Her gaze panned to his hands where she noticed the wedding band, and for a moment, she hesitated. John wasn’t ashamed of the ring, nor embarrassed to be seen wearing it. He toyed with it on his finger, looking at her from across the table. “It’s complicated.”

Y/N nodded meekly. “I see.” She cleared her throat, “divorce? Planned divorce? Affair?”

“No, I’m widowed,” he tried out a joke, but she only looked more uncomfortable. Her mouth gaped and she fumbled for words.

“Oh, John, I’m really sorry- no, really, I’m so sorry,” she stumbled, and John watched her carefully across the table. “God, how fucking insensitive. Sorry, I guess that just. Wow, that never really crossed my mind. That sucks, I’m sorry.”

“It’s in the past,” John said, finding finality in that sentence. “I’m trying to move on from it.”

Y/N nodded sympathetically. “No, yeah, wow, I get it. Completely. I...hope I live up to great expectations, then?”

John smiled and looked past her, noticing the waiter rounding the corner with the bottle of rose. “You’re getting there, Miss L/N.”

[we-justhere]

Oops pt. 2 but not like you’re thinking

Before I get into this, I just want to make it clear that I am very bad at commitment. I’m not good at doing things every day, either because I forget to or lose motivation, and almost as soon as I promised to post things I fell into a bout of ‘sadness’, no further details needed. I have requests that I will fill, you have been heard, but until then. 

I did a rp with @the-elusive-libbin and she gave me permission to post it. Granted there’s demand there might be a second part, but I’m posting this now because it’s starvation and the second half would be stuffing. I don’t want to subject you to it if that’s not what you’re here for, I understand. This is @the-elusive-libbin‘s own self-insert and Jakurai Jinguji of  Hypnosis Mic: Division Rap Battle. Let me know if you enjoy it. 

~~~~~

Exhaustion and fatigue was something Jakurai was sort of used to. He had a high stress job that squeezed the energy out of him throughout the day, and often he would be able to be just fine until he got home and he would instantly collapse after getting at least a few mouthfuls of food into his belly. But that was all granted things went sort of well.

Everything needed his attention today, and emergency after emergency forced him to go in and out of rooms without being able to even think between moments. He lost track of time and didn't exactly desire to check, but before he knew it he was stopped and told to take his lunch.

He probably did need to eat. He definitely needed to eat, but by then he was already full of adrenaline and had patients to take care of. He brushed off his breaks and his lunches and kept working, not yet feeling any sort of hunger or exhaustion. He wasn't worried about it yet.

He actually didn't have to worry about it for a long time and his body was patient enough to keep him going until his last patient. All of a sudden his body started slowing down and it took that much more effort to keep his eyes open and stay awake. He fought with his body on it for as long as he could until he was free to go, at which point he went right to his desk and fell asleep.

It wasn't as much of a 'I'm going to take a nap', it was more of a 'I'm going to collapse in the middle of work if I don't sleep'. Either way, he was completely blacked out.

Lily started down the miraculously clean corridor towards the doctor’s office. Sterile white walls surrounded her as she walked, a maze of monotonous barriers that all seemed to connect to everywhere and nowhere all at the same time. Lily knew her route and hardly even had to think about where she was going or which direction to take, she had grown accustomed to it all through work.

The doctor was her higher up, that was all too true and she worked mostly for him as his nurse and organizer, in fact it was rare that she ever worked for another doctor within the practice; but today was different. She had hardly seen the long haired man with his ever present bags under his eyes and his white coat today aside from one point mid day where she had reminded him of his break, during a fleeting moment where the two passed by one another in a corridor. It had been way too busy to breathe, let alone chat and so the nurse thought it best to save discussing future plans with the older male until after the rush. The rush passed and the doctor was still MIA.

Lily approached a large, grey door that sported a miniature, frosted glass window and a small, golden nameplate. ‘Jinguji Jakurai Sensei.’ It stated in bold, black lettering. Perhaps the nurse had thought it best to check the doctor’s office last? In theory it should have been the first place she concluded to find the target. With a sigh at her own thought process, she turned the handle and entered the room What she saw left her slightly in awe. The doctor was sat at his desk, seemingly passed out, his long hair draped across the surface as his folded arms cradled his sleeping head. This was the first time the nurse had ever seen the doctor in this state. At first she became concerned that he may actually be dead but the soft rise and fall of his back as he breathed disregarded that notion.

The sound of the door stirred the doctor, forcing a quiet groan of unwillingness out of him. He hated the idea of moving, of waking up after sleeping for what only felt like a few seconds. His body was drained,, exhausted after not even finishing a full day. It was rather disconcerting.

His arms were suddenly comforting here, but once he saw who was in his office that comfort melted away into slight embarrassment. "Excuse me." He murmured as he straightened himself out, brushing out his uniform. "Our break.. is it over so soon? I only meant to be a few minutes." He combed his hand through his hair. "I'll be right out with you. I must have lost track of time."

“It’s only me.” Lily smiled, clipboard clutched close to her chest as she listened to his words carefully. Seeing him in a sleeping state like that was so out of character, so unusual, so....adorable! She wished just for a moment that he would fall back asleep. She shook the thoughts from her mind, quite literally and made herself dizzy in the process. “Hmm, sensei....you were gone for quite a while. You uhh, how do I put this? You fell asleep for longer than you may have thought. Your shift is over...you slept through.” She touched his shoulder gently with the softest smile she could muster. “You were so exhausted, I think your body may have started working against you there.”

His rest felt so short.. had he really slept that long? He glanced at his clock and felt his heart sink when it was confirmed before his very eyes. "Damn." Of course he slept through the rest of his shift. He held his hand to his forehead, cursing the time and his own body. It was embarrassing, being that reckless on the job when there very well could have been something serious that he should have been present for. Not that he seemed to mind that sort of thing, as his own stomach was one of the very things that he neglected most when it needed his attention. 

 "I didn't miss anything, did I?" He continued, meeting Lily's eyes. "I wish you would have woken me up sooner."

"You didn't, all of our patients remained stable after you left. We were busy but we managed to keep a hold of it all. Everything's okay. I'd have woken you up but I had no idea you were sleeping in here." She gestured to the office. "My apologies sensei, had I known where you were I'd have come to get you sooner"

It helped to know that he, at the very least, wasn't absent for something serious. He couldn't even imagine how embarrassed he would be if they needed him and he wasn't there because he was napping in his office. He would have to make it a note to force himself to sleep better at home, not that the damage hadn't already been done. "I'm glad they're doing better. Our patients, I mean." He started to trail off a bit as a growl tore through his stomach, stealing his thoughts away. He cringed at the feeling and clutched at his stomach. "Ah.. excuse me.."

Lily stared at the doctor’s stomach for a moment and then blinked. Once. Twice. Was- was that what she thought it was? The nurse’s thoughts were confirmed when she saw a hand grip tightly at the doctor’s abdomen. “W-was that your-?” A light blush rose to her cheeks as she accidentally cut herself off .

"We had an emergency during what was supposed to be my lunch." His arm didn't leave his stomach, partly out of shame and partly because the pain was somewhat lessened with the pressure. It was embarrassment after embarrassment, and Jakurai couldn't tolerate another noise like that. "I suppose that might have been a part of the problem. I didn't exactly have enough time to.." He cleared his throat and spoke in a more hushed tone. "You understand."

The nurse could feel her heart pounding in her chest and her face felt warm even without physically touching it. It took a minute or so before she could speak again, secondhand embarrassment washing over her. She had never in her life heard the doc's stomach and now she had, while they were alone....and it was fairly loud. "Y-you haven't eaten then?" A question that was more rhetorical than not.

The pause was just as excruciating for him, if not more. He was very grateful when she started talking. "Not since.." Well, his breakfast wasn't exactly outstanding either. He usually just ate whatever was quick enough to bring along with him if he even felt breakfast was necessary, as he was normally fine until lunch. Maybe 'fine' wasn't the best word, but rather he didn't feel weak or queasy until then. "No, I guess I haven't."

"Your poor tummy!" She almost cooed, accidentally using a less scientific term for stomach in the process. Perhaps she meant to keep that part in her mind bit regardless she blurted it into the open and now she felt even more warm in the face.

"It doesn't usually give me trouble." He loosened his grip over his stomach, choosing to ignore how cheery she seemed to be about the situation~ "I suppose I don't really allow it to give me trouble. We don't exactly have time to be focusing on ourselves." He was more or less speaking for himself. Obviously. "I'll be fine."

"You'll be fine when you get sustenance sensei. Your stomach is empty and you need fuel." She reached out and tentatively placed her palm against his midsection over his clothes, her hand shaking nervously as she did.

He didn't make any sort of effort to stop her. She already heard it, he didn't feel the need to pretend it didn't happen. He did get a slight tingling sensation under her palm, but that was greatly overshadowed by the dull, nigh constant rumbles that he had been trying so hard to conceal. He was sure she could feel them, but he couldn't tell how she felt about it. "I appreciate the concern."

It was then that without thinking Lily began to rub at the abdomen in front of her, setting the clipboard she held with her other hand down on the doctor's desk. She could feel harsh vibrations from palm to fingertip as his stomach clenched and spasmed under her hand. Deep yet fairly quiet grumbling came at intervals, sounding through the layers of muscle, skin and organ. Up and down, gently adding pressure as she rubbed his concave stomach, her face turning a colour that she presumed to be nothing short of crimson. The nurse could not meet his eyes and therefore could not tell his expression. The nerves were too real.

That certainly answered his question. He initially assumed it was a mistake, that her hand had slipped or something, but that proved to be absolutely ridiculous within the very same instant. He felt his breath leave his lungs once he realized what she was doing, but the more she massaged his clenched muscle the better it started to feel. Her hands felt soft and comforting even if they were above his clothes, and it really did feel like she was suppressing painful hunger pangs and making them more bearable. If not for her hot blush, the doctor would have no insight on how she was feeling or how nervous she was.

 He gently took her hands into his, temporarily pausing the massage. "I don't understand where this is coming from. You have to tell me."

"I-I just-" she stammered. He was actually HOLDING her hands. Both of them. Not just one, but both! She would have flushed more if she could. "I j-just thought if I massaged your stomach it would ease the p-pain. I meant no I'll will"

"It did ease the pain." He started to let go of her hands when he saw how quickly she fell apart. "It just seemed so sudden. You're always so nervous around me." It was such a confident move. Seemed so out of place for someone so timid, especially one that was proving his point with that powerful blush. "I really didn't mind it."

"w-well I..." she hid her face in her hands and said nothing more. What if he thought she was weird now? What if he became wary around her? 

  "I didn't mean to embarrass you." He stopped himself from touching her hands again. "I just needed to ask. I'm sorry if I.. spoiled it for you." Whatever 'it' happened to be. He didn't think of it as a pleasure thing and really did think she was doing it to help him feel better. It was a service, more like~ "It felt nice."

Lily peeped through the fingers on her one hand and gulped nervously. Was he actually smiling softly back at her? Her heart skipped a beat and she removed both hands from her face. "W-would you like me to continue?" She fidgeted on the spot.

The massages to help with the pain ironically kept him from going home and properly eating. The irony wasn't lost on him. This was the better option though-One where he got a free massage after a long day from someone that could hardly be around him without nearly combusting before this. "I wouldn't say no to it." He agreed, a slight purr evident in his voice. "Though I imagine it will get worse no matter how much you take care of it."

“T-then...” Lily tucked her hair behind one ear and knelt down on the floor next to the doctor. She placed her hand back onto his empty tummy and began to massage once again. “Then I’ll continue a while longer.”

His cheeks reddened as she knelt next to him. He didn't get this sort of attention a lot, really ever, and especially not from her. He didn't think she was even capable of doing this. He felt like he should talk, or say something at least, but all he could really think about was her hands. "Have you thought about doing this before?"

She flinched. “What? D-do you mean massaging your belly?” She immediately flushed and ducked her head as she realized what she had said. 

"Y..yes." It was strange to go from how they usually talked to each other to how they were talking now. His hand twitched, a visible effort he made to stop himself from covering his stomach as a noisy rumble sounded off beneath his shirt. It would take some time to get used to hearing that. "..You don't have to answer that."

Lily twinged as the doctor’s stomach groaned beneath her hand and was surprised at the little noise he gave off himself “Answer your question or your stomach?” 

"The question." His face flushed at her statement. "I assumed that this had to come from somewhere. That you wouldn't have done this for no reason." He looked at her hand rather than her face. "I'm looking too far into it."

“M-maybe you are.....” she trailed off, letting her words linger in the air for a while. She massaged what she thought was a knot and earned a deep roar from the belly in return. Changing the subject seemed to be a good option so lily took it. “You sound so empty.”

The roar was extra painful for him, making it impossible to stop a grunt. It was bittersweet, both the pain of such deep growls with the pleasure of the massage, and he couldn't agree more with her. "I'm sure I've gone this long without eating before. I can't remember it ever hurting this much." That didn't really mean an awful lot. "I guess I stuff it when I get home on days like this before I give it the chance to hurt."

The nurse’s eyes widened. “Stuff...” it came across as a question though it was never meant to be. Her eyes met his finally as they sparkled hopefully.

"Not intentionally." He dragged his fingers through his hair, taking her question as concern or judgment. "I just try to shut it up before it gets started. I don't mean to gorge or anything. I stop before it gets to be too much. I promise." His mood shifted when he saw that glittering in her eyes. There wasn't any sort of judging to be seen on her face. "I really do try not to eat too much. Even when I'm hungry." 

“I see~” she smiled, her grin showing just how happy in the moment she actually was. “But you have been stuffed before? Full of food.” She knew talking about food could possibly upset his stomach into complaining and cramping up but in Lily’s eyes that was a bonus. Regardless of embarrassment, she was finding a way to push through and talk about things she really wanted to talk about. Things she truly desired.

"I don't think I've ever needed to." He had accidentally overeaten maybe once, but he never let himself indulge. He was tired when he got home, lunch was his main meal and dinner was what he could get down before he fell asleep. Stuffing himself.. didn't seem so bad right now. It actually sounded nice, and thinking about it made his hunger feel that much more dramatic. "Maybe I will tonight.. since I've already slept plenty."

Lily fidgeted. She remembered how Hifumi tended to cook for the doctor on occasion to save time and an idea struck, sticking to her mind like tape to paper. “I....I could cook for you sensei...I-If you’re not busy.” She rambled, her face flushing. “I mean you don’t have to, it’s not weird like a date or anything....!!!Date?!? No I didn’t mean that, well I did, it’s just that you’re hungry and I have food...I mean I can make food....I’m going to stop talking now.”

Her scrambling was sort of charming. This was the Lily that he had come to know. He had somewhat expected an offer after her line of questioning, though he had to admit he didn't know what the offer was going to be, exactly. Free food was always a pleasure regardless. "I don't know how much energy I'd have to cook when I got home anyway. If it's not too much of a bother, of course, I'd love to eat with you. Ah, please don't feel pressured to feed me. I know it seems pretty bad, but I assure you I know how to feed myself.”

Lily paused, her face turning red. She stood and looked around the doctor’s chin area, again avoiding eye contact. “T-then....w-would you like to come to my house for a homemade meal? I’ll t-try to keep the portion size as accurate as possible...”

He wasn't sure what she meant by 'accurate', but he would trust her. They were both trained to take care of people, who would know better than her? Homemade sounded good anyway, no matter what it was she planned to cook. He supposed people enjoyed cooking for him, that he wouldn't have to cook for himself with all of this pampering.  "That sounds nice. I wouldn't mind the company, either."

~~~~

That’s all I have for you. It’s pretty long, sorry about that. Maybe.