#you said oh but i want commitment i want marriage i want full term

[pastelbluebutch]

Literally just venting

[blot-squisher]

SFW alphabet for Wesker.

Oh my god...

SFW Alphabet Ask Meme for Surviving the Game Albert Wesker

A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?) What are you? A dog? Why do you need my affection?

B = Best friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?) Friends are nothing more than a weakness to exploit! If he has friends, he's not about to admit to it. They probably don't even know he considers them a friend...

C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?) IF he were to cuddle... It would always be on his terms. You may lay your head on his lap and if you're lucky, he might pet your hair.

D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?) A working mind should never settle, you fool! Cooking and cleaning? Menial work. Better left to the interns.

E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?) You would make a lovely lab experiment... So many viruses to test, so little time.

F = Fiance(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?) My only commitment is to my work and marriage is for the insecure and needy.

G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?) Unless it's a very delicate vial full of highly mutagenic virus, good luck.

H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?) Why are you trying to touch me? Now I have to go stand in the decontamination shower! I have work to do!

I = I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?) Lesbian? No, the other L-word... Lesbians?

J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?) Jealousy is a weak man's emotion... However, if by some miracle you were to make him jealous, he would do everything in his power to undermine the cause until you returned your attention to him instead. After all, why else should anything else matter to you but him?

K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss their partner? Where do they like to be kissed?) The human mouth is disgusting. But if he were to kiss you, it would only be to show you just how much power he has over you.

L = Little ones (How are they around children?) Disgusting but necessary to maintain the human population.

M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?) Unless you are a very strong cup of coffee, he has no time for pleasantries. If you're not working, you better be making the aforementioned coffee.

N = Night (How are nights spent with them?) Do you like staring at a computer screen until your eyes are bloodshot and dry as sandpaper? Good. Because that's what you'll be doing.

O = Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?) Why would I reveal anything about myself? Knowledge is power and if you're not the most powerful man in the room, what good are you?

P = Patience (How easily angered are they?) Did you just him a question? You shouldn't have done that.

Q = Quizzes (How much would they remember about their partner? Do they remember every little detail they mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?) It's very important to remember everything about the people around you. Then you can manipulate and exploit them more effectively.

R = Remember (What is their favorite moment in their relationship?) The successful creation of t-virus. Why? What other relationship are you talking about? What are you implying?! What do you think you know?!

S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect their partner? How would they like to be protected?) He doesn't need- I've said too much... Stop asking questions.

T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?) The only effort worth expending is in the pursuit of perfection. If he's going to do something, it will be perfect. You will like it. End of story.

U = Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?) There's a list, but a couple of things would be his insufferable god-complex and lack of ethics.

V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?) Have you seen his hair? You don't get hair like that without putting in some effort.

W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without their partner?) Although losing him was unfortunate, there is hope. Dammit! Stop asking questions or Nemesis will be given a green light to track you down and use your spine as a toothpick!

X = Xtra (A random headcanon for them.) Wesker won't admit it (even to himself) but he has felt the occasional sliver of curiosity about what it would have been like to have a normal life. Instead he's been burdened with a far superior intellect and genes, leaving it up to him to advance the human species to a more capable stage of evolution.

Y = Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?) Don't ask questions, don't contradict him, don't second guess him, do as you're told, don't waste his time, don't-

Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habit of theirs?) Why are you asking when I sleep? Do you think you can get the drop on me? Ha, fool! Good luck even finding me...

[library-of-ohara]

@rosiinante asked: hiiii my loves xx does anyone fancy writing some headcanons for akazaya members (& Oden pls) reacting to a confession from a reader with a crush on them? please and thanks you my darlings ❤️💋✨

a/n: written by Lale (@childofblackmaria) <3 you had me at Akazaya, hehe. this was so fun to write and such a sweet request! love me some crush headcanons. i'm glad i could write you something in return for that sweet Rayleigh you wrote me. i also included your clown for you. hope you have fun reading this, ily x

word count: 818

Oden

Oden our beloved

he’s the kindest and sweetest person to confess to, carrying his golden heart on display, shining so, so bright

sure, he is loud and doesn’t have a filter and he can come off as rude, simply because he unapologetically does what he wants, but he got the biggest and warmest heart which made you fall for him badly

Oden is blunt in his feelings and encourages you every day to be the same, knowing you tend to bottle up your feelings often

which is why it catches him by surprise first to hear those words coming out of your mouth

but lord, his smile once he realizes what you just said

makes you fall in love over and over again with him

wants you to meet his wife Toki over a steaming hot bowl of Oden because there might be something else that could get steaming hot tonight… and long-term, if you want to

Denjiro

slide him a bag of money to grasp his attention

and don’t shy away when he falls asleep mid-conversation, this man is busy with raising his father figure’s daughter by day and committing arson and robbery at night

confessing face to face can be a tricky thing, but luckily there’s other ways too

he’ll knock at your door at dawn, the love letter you left underneath his pillow the night before in his hands

his fox eyes resting on you, a smug smile on his lips, the lips you dreamt about kissing for so long

Denjiro will invite himself in, closing the door behind him and flop down criss cross next to your futon where you lay frozen, forgetting how to breath until he takes your hand into his, bringing it to his lips 

he’ll probably fall asleep two minutes later, but won’t let go of your hand and keep mumbling your name over and over again in his sweet dreams

Kanjuro

this was not in the script

but luckily Kanjuro knows how to improvise

your confession surprises him first, considering how fond you seem of all the other Akazaya Nine. there must have been someone closer to your heart than him, right?

only when you pull him down to you by his long red hair, smack his face between both of your hands like a sandwich and look him deep in the eyes, repeating what you just said, he starts to realize

you’ve fallen for him, the fallen clown, how tragic and yet so beautiful

he’ll make a joke about how he has to ask Kin’emon first if other people are allowed in their marriage, sweating when you turn around huffing and puffing

wraps his arms around you from behind to hinder you from walking away

“if you’re okay with your heart in my hands, then we can try…”

yes you can kiss the clown man now

Izou

hardest part of confessing to Izou is overcoming your fear of rejection or in this case, the fear of being shot on the spot with his stern gaze alone

sure, he can be intimidating, but somehow you still feel so drawn to him

not only because of his effortless beauty but also because of his determination and the softness that shines through when you’re alone with him

when you gather all your courage and confess your feelings on that one starry night, away from the ears of the others, you’re not able to look him in the eyes

the floor is suddenly really interesting

only when Izou tilts your chin up with two fingers you dare to look up, your eyes meeting his

and oh, you’ve never seen him looking at someone so full of love, almost apologetically

those lipstick kisses stains that cover your face still burn up when you think back to it, like a memory engraved on your skin

Kikunojo

the sweetest out of them all, it is said that her smile cures acne and depression and any broken heart

confessing to Kiku is easy, it feels soft and light, like a spring breeze waking up the sleeping blossoms with a gentle kiss

she takes your hand into hers while she’s listening to you, encouraging you nonverbally to let it all out as she draws small circles with her thumb on your skin

and then she smiles

rip because that’s the sound of your heart bursting into stardust out of happiness

Kiku might ask you for a few moments to fully take all of your words in, she doesn’t want to give you a rushed answer, even though you can tell from the sparkle in her eyes that she is beyond happy

when she nuzzles her face in the crook of your neck and whispers how happy she is, you’re completely melting away

she’ll probably pick you up and twirl you around once you’ve both confessed to each other, pinkies linked, a promise that this will be forever

[robininthelabyrinth]

For the prompts thing, maybe Wen Qing was always raised to be WRH's heir?

spiritual successor to this minifill but can be read alone

Untamed

“Uncle,” Wen Qing said as she applied the treatment that helped her uncle retain what he could of his sanity. “I had an idea.”

“Oh no,” her uncle said, and chuckled when she lifted up an acupuncture needle threateningly, as if to say mind your tongue when you’re on the wrong end of these! “Yes, yes. What’s the idea? I hope you’re not going to suggest that we give up on the Yin Metal again. We’ve committed far too many resources to it to stop now, when we’re so close.”

“No, I’m not,” she said, a touch regretfully. She didn’t share her uncle’s enthusiasm for the stuff – she didn’t think it was going to be anywhere near as effective as he thought it would, but she had to admit he’d had some pretty stunning successes so far. All those cultivators saved from the brink of death…maybe the Yin Metal really would give them a chance to change the world for the better.

No matter what any other sect thought about it.

“I was just thinking that there’s a different way we could proceed,” she said. “In terms of getting around having to fight the other sects – A-Xu and A-Chao are too aggressive in their thinking.”

She’d seen their plans. Attacking another sect like that…! And not just one, but two, if the sacking of the Lan sect didn’t sufficiently terrify the other sects into surrendering.

Which she didn’t think it would. The Nie sect hated them to no end, but no one listened to them right now – but that would change if the Lan sect were attacked, if the Wen sect proved that they really were as big a threat as the Nie were always saying they were. The smaller sects were viciously proud, jealous of their autonomy; they might say nice words about submitting to the Wen (even if it was for their own best interest!), but they wouldn’t really mean it. They’d scheme behind their back, and maybe unify, and then where would they be?

Losing good men, that was were. Killing, instead of curing.

No, that approach was no good.

“I’m listening,” her uncle said. “You always had a better head on your shoulders than either of those louts.”

Wen Qing smiled.

“I think we should find a different way to unify the sects under us,” she said. “Not through war, but…well. I’m about the right age to start thinking of marriage, aren’t I?”

Her uncle’s eyebrows arched.

“Clearly sending you to take Qiren’s classes with all those men was a bad idea,” he remarked, but he looked amused. “All right. Which one did you take a fancy to?”

“Uncle, please,” she scolded. “Listen to the full idea first!”

“All right, I’m listening, I’m listening. Didn’t I say I was listening? Have pity on my old bones and tell me already.”

“If you recognize me formally as your heir,” she said, “we could plausibly propose to the Lan sect that Lan Wangji be married in.”

“Married in?”

“He’s only a second son. Why not?”

Her uncle was frowning thoughtfully. “He’s not your type.”

“He’s not,” Wen Qing agreed. “But Wei Wuxian – Sect Leader Jiang’s favorite bastard, you know – is madly in love with him. He’ll lose his mind if he hears he’s been involuntarily engaged against his will.”

“And that will achieve…what?”

“Me marrying Jiang Cheng, bringing the Jiang under our control.” Wen Qing smiled. “And with Mistress Jiang marrying Jin Zixuan, as they both clearly want, and Wei Wuxian marrying Lan Wangji…well, that’s everyone but the Nie, isn’t it? Let them roar as much as they like; by themselves they can’t do much.”

“Ah, A-Qing,” her uncle said. “Truly, you’re my favorite for a reason.”

[biggest-stupidhead]

Heyy!!

I dont think there's such think as semen donors in aot cannon?

BUT WHAT IF Captain Levi agrees to be the donor to squad leader (or just cadet) reader in a platonic relationship/eventual romance?

Just cute ackerbabies!

Lmao you’re probably right, no semen donors in canonverse. But I honestly love this idea so much, I feel like it would be hard for Levi to make that romantic connection so I could see him making that choice, and maybe it developing into something more!

Summary: Levi can’t wait any longer to start a family, and you are willing to take that step with him.

Word Count: 1.7K

__

You choked on the small sip of tea that you had taken. Catching the small drops of liquid that had escaped your lips.

“Come again now?” You managed to form words after a moment, Levi seemed uninterested as always, those charcoal grey eyes dull and apathetic.

“You heard me just fine, you know that I hate repeating myself.” He scoffed as he shifted so that his leg was crossed over his opposite knee,

“Yes I heard you but....marriage?” You were shocked to say the least. Levi had never shown any prior interest in any long term relationship with anyone, although the two of you had hooked up a handful of times.

“I don’t see why not. We already share a room, not to mention that we-”

“Okay I get it, just...it’s a big commitment and I’m not sure that I’m-”

“Oh please, what else do we have to look forward to anymore? No more fighting, no more political issues to deal with might as well settle down and...” He trailed off, his gaze cast downwards into his cup of tea, which was probably cold by now. You sighed deeply, placing your cup down gently and leaning back into the sofa that the two of you were seated on. His arm was slung casually across the back of the sofa, his finger tips ghosting over your shoulder.

“I know but Levi...marriage?” you were a bit disappointed. He had said it so casually, as if he was asking you if you wanted to run to the market to grab apples.

“If you don’t want to then just say no.” He snapped, clearly getting frustrated, he rose to his feet and began to march towards his desk. You chased after him, catching his wrist. You knew it was difficult for him to express himself, to put things lightly or being considerate to your feelings.

“It’s not that...I’m just a little caught off guard.” You admitted as you held his wrist gently. He let out a breath that he had seemed to have been holding in, he turned and laced his fingers through yours, his other hand diving into his pant pocket. You waited patiently for him to say something, but he only pulled out a small black box. Your heart skipped a beat, this was more how you had pictured being proposed to. He fell onto his knee and opened the box slowly, revealing a modest silver ring with a small diamond embedded in the ring.

“Oh Levi...” Your fingers were still laced with his as he knelt down, you squeezed his hand affectionately.

“I already bought the damn ring, just say yes.” He grunted, averting his gaze as his thumb glided over your knuckle.

“You have a point there.” You chuckled as you gave him a small nod, which was enough of a yes for him.

__

You were married by the end of the month, a simple court house wedding with Armin and Mikasa as your witnesses. Afterwards you had gone home and eaten dinner as usual. Just another week, except now the sex that you and Levi occasionally had, became a hell of a lot more regular. You had no complaints, or at least that was until you were hunched over the kitchen sink puking your guts out. You had missed your period as well, and it didn’t take a genius to know what that meant. You decided to wait until you were certain to tell anyone this however, seeing how difficult pregnancy could be, and the unlikeliness of carrying to full term seemed high.

So you made sure to go to the doctor twice before telling Levi that you were pregnant. He’d had a very similar reaction that you’d had when he had asked to marry you.

He choked on his tea, his hand flying to his chin to catch the liquid.

“Pregnant?” He repeated, and you nodded, leaning against the table where he was sitting.

“H-How long until...”

“Give or take seven months.” You shrugged, trying to put on a brave face, after seeing how frazzled he was you wanted to make this as casual as the rest of your relationship.

“So...we should probably start cleaning out that spare room and-” You cut him off by kneeling down and placing a chaste kiss to his lips.

“We’ve got plenty of time for that, for now let’s just...enjoy not being responsible for a helpless shitty baby.” You said softly as you slowly sank onto his lap. He hummed his approval, but still seemed rightfully on edge.

“We can start cleaning the room in few weeks, there’s no rush.” You assured him as you scattered kisses across his sour face.

“I’ll start tomorrow.” Levi hummed as he tilted his head to the side.

__

Turned out that you were both in way over your head. Around 12 weeks into your pregnancy Hange was pressing her stethoscope to your rapidly swelling belly when she froze. Levi tensed when he noticed this, and you frowned.

“What is it?” Levi asked as he gripped the back of the exam table.

“Nothing’s wrong...just-”

“Doesn’t seem like nothing.” Levi scowled as he watched Hange continue to feel around your stomach.

“That’s cause it isn’t nothing, I’m hearing two heart beats.” Hange told you as she stood to her full height.

“Two heart beats?” You felt feint at the news, you had known that twins ran in your family but you had never expected to have them yourself.  

“Yes, it appears that you are having twins” Hange said with a wide smile as she folded up the stethoscope. Your vision blurred, the worry that you had been experiencing prior to the appointment had doubled along with the number of children you were having. 

“No shit.” Levi replied breathily as he held your shoulder firmly. 

“If I were you guys I’d go clean out that room now.” Hange advised as she cleaned up the space that you had been using as a makeshift exam room in her office. 

“I’ll get right on that.” Levi said, shooting you a concerned look as he helped you up onto your feet. 

__

The twins were born premature, the labor itself wasn’t nearly as bad as you had expected. But you realized that it wasn’t that bad because of how small they were. The only reason that they both survived was thanks to the Marleyan medical equipment that had been shipped over courtesy of Zeke and Yelena. You and Levi spent countless hours in the hospital as you awaited for the twins to be discharged. In that window of time you decided on names, it was difficult but you decided on Harrison and Harper. You weren’t surprised to find that they both took after their father, dark bluish grey eyes with a full head of black hair. The one thing they seemed to have gotten from you was your facial structure and your complexion. 

It was a massive relief to bring them home, now instead of staying up until the wee hours in the hospital you could do it in the comfort of your own home. 

One particular evening you were walking laps with Harrison, gently patting his back as you bounced off of your heels as he cried. On your third lap around the entire cottage, you peeked into the nursery to see Levi reclined on the rocker with Harper fast asleep. His eyes were closed, his naked chest rising and falling evenly as he slept. You envied him as you rubbed circles on Harrison’s back once more. His cries slowly died out and you managed to drag yourself to your bed and place Harrison down gently. Using the extra pillows, you managed to make a small barrier between him and yourself as well as the edge of the bed. It wasn’t often that you got to do this, seeing as you usually slept with Levi. But Harrison seemed content with laying in his dad’s spot for the night. His big blue eyes were watching your hair sway over his face as you adjusted the pillows. He cooed and babbled for a few minutes before falling silent, his tiny breaths putting you at ease. 

It couldn’t have been but an hour later when the sound of Harper crying woke you once more. Levi was pacing around the same way that you had been earlier before he finally managed to put her at ease. He returned to your room to see you sitting up, Harrison fast asleep at your side. 

“Care to join us?” You asked, voice gruff with sleep, or rather the lack there of. 

“Would I ever.” Levi groaned as he placed Harper in the pillow barrier with Harrison who was still fast asleep. He managed to squeeze onto the bed, laying on his side like you were as the two of you watched Harper sooth herself into sleep. His gaze left the small baby in favor of studying your features. 

“What would you have done if I had never asked you to marry me?” The question caught you off guard, your fingers were tracing the soft features of your babies. You hummed in thought but the answer was already on the tip of your tongue. 

“I’d have asked you to marry me.” You said with a wry smile and Levi rolled his eyes at your cheesy reply. 

“That’s not what I meant...well not really.” Levi grumbled, you paused again in thought. What would you have done? Certainly no more military work, that chapter was over for you. 

“Maybe I’d open a bakery. My grandmother left me all of her recipes. What would you do?” You asked, finger running along the soft dark locks of hair that were growing from Harrison’s head. 

“I’d open a tea shop.” Levi answered quickly, his own gaze back on the babies, his hand resting on Harper’s stomach, rising and falling with her breathing. 

“Why don’t we just say fuck it and do it?” You asked, not sure if you were serious or if it was the lack of sleep talking. 

“There was that space for lease last time we went into town...” Levi offered thoughtfully. 

“Yeah, we could fix it up and open a cafe.” You said excitedly as you leaned over the sleeping babies in hopes of coaxing a kiss from Levi. He nodded in agreement before leaning over and planting a kiss to your lips. 

“We’ll talk about it in the morning. Go to sleep.” Levi sighed as he stretched out on his side, and closing his eyes. You smiled and mirrored him, your hand resting on Harrison’s stomach now as well, your fingertips brushing his. 

You knew that you’d made the right choice. Marrying Levi was the best decision that you’d made in a long time. It may not look like the typical love story, but you knew that it was real, realer than most relationships. And you wouldn’t want to have it with anyone else. 

[phantasmagoric-acquaintance]

who said anything about marriage

[read it here or on ao3]

Barry was nervous.

That was nothing new. Barry was nervous most of the time. But Barry hadn’t been nervous around Lup in decades.

There were so many things that could go wrong. For one, he could lose the ring. For the millionth time in the past half hour, he patted the outside of his jacket pocket. He felt the little box and exhaled quietly.

He could screw up the plan. They’d already made it to the restaurant on time, thank the Gods. But what if they missed the gondola ride? He’d booked the damned thing in advance, and if the rules he’d read online were any indication, the company didn’t give latecomers a whole lot of leeway. He could pop the question on the streets next to the canal, he supposed, but that was unromantic. Plus, he’d pre-paid so much for the ride.

And what if he fell? He’d made himself sick the night before reading articles about mistakes to avoid on a gondola. He knew not to try to stand, but what if he forgot? He could tip the boat and soak them both.

“Um, babe?”

Lup’s voice brought Barry out of his anxious reverie, and he remembered he’d been pouring a glass of wine, which was now very close to overflowing. “Aah!” He hastily righted the bottle, hitting the mouth against the overfilled glass in the process and very nearly knocking it over.

Lup snickered, eyes glinting with amusement. “You are a wreck,” she said as she lifted her own wine glass to her lips. There wasn’t a hint of malice in her voice or in her expression. Barry remembered that he’d probably embarrassed himself in front of her thousands of times, and she still loved him. As the waiter came by to take their orders, Barry felt himself relaxing.

That calm moment was short-lived.

When the waiter turned away from their table, Lup propped her elbows up on the table and rested her chin on her palms. “Hey, Bear?”

“Mm-hm?” Barry vocalized, sipping from his comically full wine glass.

“When are we gonna get married?”

Barry sputtered, spitting a little wine back into his glass and trying not to choke on the rest of it. “Huh?!?” Had she figured out his plan? She was clever, and he wasn’t the best at keeping secrets, but he thought he’d done a good job of keeping it from her. He’d known better, too, than to tell anyone expect Taako. Did she get it out of him?

She raised an eyebrow. “Well, don’t freak out or anything. It’s just, you know, we’ve been together for, like, I don’t know, an entire human lifespan?” She shifted her chin so that it rested only on her left palm and reached for her glass with her free hand. “I mean, we’re pretty much already married. I just thought, I dunno, maybe we should make it official.”

If Barry had been thinking, he might’ve told her “Yes! Gods, yes!” right then and there. He might’ve pulled out the ring and said, “Funny you should ask, I was thinking the same thing!” If he had been thinking, he might have realized that this moment, right here in the restaurant, was the perfect opportunity to do what he’d set out to do this evening.

But Barry wasn’t thinking. Barry was panicking.

“M-marriage? Who said anything about marriage?”

Lup set her left arm back down on the table. “Huh? Nobody said anything about it. Or, I guess I did.” She looked down at her glass and swirled it around a bit. “Geez, Barry, I wouldn’t have brought it up if I knew it’d make you all, like, panicky and sweaty and shit.”

“I-I’m not panicky and sweaty.” He was very obviously both of these things. It was this moment that the waiter came by, awkwardly setting their plates in front of them and hurrying off, sensing that whatever was happening here, it was definitely not something he wanted to be privy to any longer than necessary. “Y-you just caught me off guard, that’s all. Marriage is, you know, a big word.”

“Well, sure.” Lup picked up a fork and began swirling it in her pasta. “But, like, haven’t you thought about it before?” She lifted the fork to her mouth.

“Thought about marrying you?” Barry was drenched in sweat now.

“Mm-hm,” Lup managed through a mouthful of linguini.

“Well, no, I mean, why would I?”

This was absolutely, positively, the wrong thing to say. It might have been the worst possible thing Barry could’ve said, and he’d said it, and he couldn't take it back.

Lup swallowed her food hard and gaped at him. “Fucking excuse me?”

“Uhh…” He took a long sip of his wine.

“What do you mean, ‘Why would I?’?”

The pressure was on now, and Barry tended to falter under pressure. “I just, I mean, marriage is, it’s such a long-term commitment, you know? It, uh, ties you down and stuff.”

Lup’s eyes went even wider. “Barry, what are you trying to say?” she asked softly.

Barry threw his hands up. “Nothing! I- nothing! Just, you’re such a, a free spirit, I, uh, wouldn’t wanna… hold you back?”

She deflated, and he knew he’d dug himself deeper. “Yeah, okay.” She put her elbow back on the table, making a fist with her left hand and resting her cheekbone on her knuckles, and looked down at her plate.

Silence. Barry cut off a bit of his salmon and ate it. “Mmm!” he hummed exaggeratedly. “The salmon is amazing! How’s your food?”

Lup pushed her noodles around on her plate, not looking up. “It’s fine. Fantastic.”

They stayed like that for a while, him slowly eating his food and watching her, her only taking small occasional bites and refusing to look anywhere but her plate.

“Um, are… are you ready for the check?” Barry asked after some time.

“Hm? Oh, yeah. Whenever.” Lup stood. “Just, like, excuse me for a minute first.” She walked quickly towards the restroom.

When the door closed behind her, Barry sighed and sunk his face into his hands. He didn’t have the slightest idea how he was going to recover. “Fuck,” he breathed into his hands.

After a minute, Barry heard the sound of footsteps, distinct from the clicking of Lup’s heels, approach the table. “Barold.”

He lifted his head to see Taako, still in his full chef’s uniform, glaring at him, arms crossed. Fuck, he was really in trouble now. “Hi, Taako.” In retrospect, maybe it was a mistake to have this dinner at Lup’s brother’s restaurant. It had seemed like a sweet idea at the time. Taako had only recently gotten comfortable cooking for large crowds again, and he and Lup made efforts to support him when they could.

Taako leveled a glare at Barry. “One of my little birdies has just informed me that she saw my sister run crying into the bathroom. Would you, dear customer, mind telling me why that is?”

Barry exhaled, long and slow. “I beefed it, Taako.”

“You beefed it? What does that mean, exactly?”

“Okay, she brought up marriage out of nowhere and it threw me off and I didn’t want to spoil the proposal and I panicked and maybe I said some things I didn’t mean.”

“Such as…?”

“Such as… ‘I’ve never thought about marrying you,’ and ‘Marriage ties people down’…”

“Oh, good Gods. All because you didn’t wanna spoil some dumb overly romantic surprise?”

Barry flushed. “Well, when you put it like that…”

Taako pinched the bridge of his nose. “Barry, I don’t know how you’re going to do it, but if you know what’s good for you, you’re going to have this fixed by the end of tonight.”

Barry grimaced. “I-I’ll try.”

“You’ve also wasted my food.” Taako nodded at Lup’s mostly-untouched plate and tossed a leather check holder onto the table. “And if I find any fire damage in my bathroom, I’m charging you for that, too.” With that, Taako turned and strode back into the kitchen.

By the time Lup came out of the bathroom, Barry’s credit card had already been returned to him and he was signing the receipt. He looked up at her and tried not to wince when he noticed the mascara tracks marking paths down her cheeks from her puffy eyes. “Ready to go?”

“Mm.” She still wouldn’t look at him. He led her outside, and she leaned against the building, hugging herself and staring into space, eyes unfocused.

Barry stood next to her uneasily. “Uh, I’m going to… call the taxi now?”

“Mm-hm.”

Barry didn’t reach for his phone. Another uncomfortable silence passed.

Then, he sighed. “Okay, I-I didn’t wanna do it like this, but…”

Barry knelt down, pulled the ring box out of his pocket, and flipped it open.

Lup finally turned to face him now, stunned. “Wh-what-?”

He blushed and began rambling. “I had this whole evening planned, and there was supposed to be a gondola ride, that’s where we were supposed to go next, and I was going to ask you there, but then you brought up marriage and I panicked and I put my fucking foot in my mouth. It was so dumb, I’m so sorry I said all that shit, I didn’t mean any of it, I just really wanted it to be a surprise. Gods, I was so fucking dumb, of course I wanna marry you, if you’ll still have m-“

Lup bent down, grabbed Barry’s face, and kissed him hard.

Barry felt all the tension in his body melt away. He shut the ring box and held it securely in one hand. He brought the other up to sweep Lup’s hair behind her ear and held it there, against her cheek.

When Lup pulled away, she rested her forehead against his. “You’re a fucking wreck, baby.”

He chuckled. She was crying again and, Barry realized, so was he. “I know.”

She beamed. “We’ll work on it together, fiancé.” She gave him a quick peck on the lips. “I can’t believe you did all that for a fucking gondola ride, though. I mean, no offense, dear, but I’m kinda glad we didn’t do that.”

He grimaced. “Well, about that, I paid a lot of money for it, and there’s still time…”

Lup pouted. “Do we have to? I’d rather go home.” She kissed the corner of his mouth. “I’ll make it up to you,” she breathed.

Barry smiled. “Yeah, okay. You’ve convinced me.”

“Perfect!” Lup stood up, smirked, and held out her left hand. “Now gimme that rock!”

Taako lifted his phone off the bedside table and squinted at his notifications.

Lulu: Missed Call

Lulu: Voicemail

Remembering the scene at his restaurant the night before, he inhaled sharply and unlocked his phone. There are two ways that situation could’ve played out, he thought. He navigated to his voicemailbox and pressed play on the most recent message.

“Ugh, it’s so annoying how you’re never awake when I have news. I have big fucking news, by the way, so I’m gonna be really pissed at you if you don’t call me back within the next, like, two hours. Okay, later.”

Taako smiled. It was a relief to hear her sound so chipper. It meant this news of hers was definitely good, and it meant that Taako didn’t have to fight Barold. He sat up, rubbed the dust out of his eyes, and called his sister.

[completeoveranalysis]

~

Warning! This post contains spoilers up to chapter 170 of Tsubasa (and Chapter 71 of xxxHolic). Please skip this if you have not read that far.

Please also make no comments about what happens after that point in either manga.

~

OK SO HERE IS SPOOKY KUROFAI MARRIAGE PORTRAIT

The splash text reads: Shed blood and tears, without forgetting them, turn them into an existence.

Here is a link to my original post if you need the full context.

But here is the thing I said that just made me want to scream here in 2021, specifically in regards to that splash text:

"Incredibly motivating. It’s like the optimistic view of how things are when things are tough. The tough times are unavoidable a lot of the time, but you can and will get through them. You just have to make the choice to pick up the pieces and use them to construct a new future - which is never easy, but it’s the only way forward. For the dads, it’s both their past and their future. Kurogane has already gone through this; his life shattered and he used the pieces to forge a new identity and found new things to live for. For Fai, this is something he still needs to work on. He’s so used to running from his tragedy that he hasn’t yet figured out who he is beyond it. The “without forgetting them” is sort of a call out for him in that respect. You can’t grow by pretending they didn’t happen, or by pretending you’re a different person. Once he’s faced the pain and accepted that he’s alive and can continue living in a way that can make himself and others happy, then he’ll finally be moving forward."

IN WHICH.

LIKE.

I have no idea how anyone even reads this liveblog armed with knowledge of what happens next because APPARENTLY I JUST SAY THINGS that are VASTLY UNJUST and now I wilt away with the memory of what I thought of Fai back then.

I don't mean to give myself any undue credit here - I predicted none of Fai’s backstory. I had something completely different in mind when writing this, entirely based around the knowledge of Fai fleeing from Ashura with no context whatsoever about who Fai really was.

When you know where Fai came from? Oh my god.

Oh my god.

The words just toss my intended meaning out the window and dance around with the actual truth right in your face. Especially the “pretending you’re a different person” bit - I could never have predicted that Fai was using his brother’s namesake both as a way to eliminate himself from the world and to devote his life towards resurrecting his brother in his place. But HOT DAMN do these words ice skate in all the correct patterns without any knowledge of what the heck they could possibly mean in the end.

Also I'm in physical pain from the phrase: “without forgetting them” is sort of a call out for him in that respect." I know that past!me was thinking purely about Fai running away from confrontation with Ashura and pretending that he was fine and that everything was fine and that he could stay away from it all as long as possible. Things I did not know: That Fai's memories had been deliberately changed by two separate people to control the direction of his life. "Without forgetting them" is NOT a callout for Fai - Fai had no choice in that whatsoever (but they could still be a callout for ME for forgetting any of this plotline had ever happened oh my god). Fai was only ever running from Ashura with good intentions (ie, to NOT murder someone), and there was no way he could have known that his past had been rewritten to such a massive degree that it shaped the core of his personality for his entire life. And just as the splash text implies, it's only when he gets the CORRECT memories back that he can use them to forge a healthier and more accurate life moving forward.

A call out for Fai. Imagine. Past!me has so much to answer for.

I also want to revisit the bit where I said “once he’s faced the pain and accepted that he’s alive he can continue living in a way that can make himself and others happy, then he’ll finally be moving forward”, because this comes off entirely flippant now that I’m looking back on it.

My expectation for Fai’s potential trauma was somehow barely a tenth of what it really was in the end. And like, the idea I was getting at? Technically correct! But also only correct on the surface level. Fai didn’t need to just “confront his problems”. He needed to be completely stripped of the version of himself he had constructed from his false memories, worn down to the very core through reliving the worst parts of his life - and then shown how he was wrong about them. He was lied to his entire life, and so the goals he based his life around were aimed toward an abstracted version of reality. He was never going to be able to resurrect his brother, but he never could have known that without knowing that Ashura and Evil Wolverine had manipulated him and his memories every step of the way.

It's only when he can decipher this for himself that he can course correct - and it was only in taking the Original Fai completely out of the equation that Our Fai could finally begin to comprehend the idea of living for himself, and others, instead for fixing a mistake he never actually made in the first place.

So, yeah. “Once he’s faced the pain (of his past) and accepted that HE’S alive (and he’s allowed to be, because he never killed his brother) he can continue living in a way that can make himself and others happy” IS ACTUALLY ACCIDENTALLY CORRECT IN THE END.

I also want to point out that in the initial liveblog I never really discussed how Fai’s expression was relevant to this image, because I didn’t know exactly.

He’s smiling.

It's a small, gentle smile, but CLAMP really draw attention to it with the way he's looking off centre. Kurogane looks directly at the camera, but he's off centre - Fai is in the middle of the frame and he's vaguely looking elsewhere, head tilted in the wrong direction, as if he were looking towards Kurogane but seeing something else entirely.

The image itself was part of a series of splash pages where CLAMP were depicting the current state of the relationships between all of the main cast throughout the Infinity Arc (and it was glorious) and while I absolutely caught the fact that the relationship between Fai and Kurogane was intimate but strained, I didn’t know the context of Fai’s smile. His backstory shows us that Fai smiles as a way to make other people happy, because deep down he thinks this is the only possible value he can bring them - a smile is his only way of improving the world for the people around him, and his smile is the only thing he’s worth.

Here in the image Fai is partially draped over Kurogane but his distant look shows that he isn’t fully committed to the scenario - because before Seresu he could never be. As much as he liked Kurogane and allowed himself to get close to him, it was always always with the intention of him trading his life away for his brother’s at the end of the day. This is what caused the tension between them in the first place - when Kurogane made choices in Fai’s stead to keep him alive (in Acid Tokyo), he threatened Fai’s chance to trade his life for his brother’s, and so Fai distanced himself from Kurogane. Even if they fixed what they had between them, anything he had going with Kurogane could only ever be temporary until Fai could trade places with the real Fai.

And so Fai smiles - because any happiness he can give Kurogane and the others is all he’ll ever be worth. It's a temporary happiness that was never supposed to last or even exist in the first place.

And it’s not until we get OUT of Seresu that Fai finally has the opportunity to build himself from the ground up and start living for himself. For his own happiness and those around him.

And finally commit to the idea of being able to (and being WORTHY OF) making Kurogane happy in the long term.

Which is where we then get the punching scene in Nihon. And it’s perfect.

But OH BOY did past!me say some things that sounded correct but were utterly and completely wrong at every level.

[variousqueerthings]

Hi! Out of curiosity what were the two instances of Hawkeye not being willing to sleep with married women? There's Radar's Report, though the explanation there is focused on Hawkeye wanting to commit rather than just sleep with her casually so I don't know how much it counts. And I don't remember anything else.

I do personally count "Radar's Report," because of a variety of reasons, the main one being that Hawkeye doesn't really want to marry her/be in a long-term relationship, as I see it.

It's kind of vague, because Erika is a one-off character in a syndicated show in which Hawkeye will have several other intense one-off romances, but this one ends pretty chill overall, so you can make an argument that it's there making a point about casual sex being a-okay (she's the one who doesn't want to make a thing out of it and he goes very fast from "oh rejection kind of sucks" to "well, sex still seems like a great idea!"), right up to imagining it's meant to be a small heartbreak for Hawkeye

I personally lean far on the one side with that one, especially considering Carlye -- the supposed One That Got Away -- when he literally tries to pressure her into divorcing her husband and then backs himself into a literal corner rather than commit to marriage

With Erika, was it because they were in an intense situation together in which she might have died? was it because she was (briefly) a woman who was off the market? was it just war-time stressors generally? (Was it because he saw aromantic kinship in here, yes I have an angle)

(I also note here that obvs Hawkeye also sleeps with Margaret when she's married, but that is also a Different Kind Of Situation, seeing as they're both thinking they might die + he's been there several times when she's confessed that Donald is cheating on her, including just before + she's not someone he's just met, they're verging on pretty good friends at this point and... it's different and it's a tangent rn, stop me)

It's also unclear when he does start thinking about Erika as a possible long-term relationship. He jokes about their children before he sees the ring, but it's not really different to things he's said while flirting with other women -- he describes it to Trapper as "all of a sudden something changed in mid-lechery" and then Trapper basically makes a point that he has the choice to either keep on going or backing off (seeing as "someone being married" isn't really a deal-breaker to a relationship out here) and Hawkeye is so close to keeping-on-going, but physically makes himself back off before Erika tells him the ring is a fake

I will also say that even if he was looking for something more long-term there, again... marriage is not really a deal-breaker out there -- and I wouldn't even have noticed it as such if it weren't for the second instance below:

*

the second instance is a throwaway moment in "George" when he's painting that one nurse's nails (sidenote, I didn't add that to my screenshots of "coded conversations" in this episode, but once you're committed to viewing that episode through a queer lens, the brain cannot help but be a little 👀👀👀 at Hawkeye painting someone's toenails -- someone who wasn't even intending on going out with him, but was taking herself (and her newly painted toes) to see Trapper!)

"I'm glad you're not married"

"Who says I'm not?"

"Well, I don't see a ring on any of your toes"

I note it as an interesting contrast to Radar's Report, because while that is full of various grey-zones as you point out, this is apropos nothing and he doesn't even end up getting a date out of it anyway (and ofc it's in this particular episode)

*

Overall two instances do not a hard analysis make, it's just an interesting angle to see him from, considering that Trapper is a married man who's sleeping with people + Hawkeye's fascinating insertion of himself in the Hunnicutt marriage ("protecting" Peg from knowing that BJ has cheated + telling him in two separate episodes Not To Fuck Things Up With Her) + the two times I'm remembering when Hawkeye does sleep with a married woman

[the-hopeless-haze]

Oh, My Precious Whore

A/N: didn’t really think I’d ever be posting fic on here again… but I am tired and need a distraction so… have this as a treat

Pairing: Claire Underwood x f!reader, implied Duncan Shepherd x f!reader

CW: derogatory pet names, implied smut (will not occur in full until the next part)

Description: idk this is just pure filth bc there’s a severe lack of f!reader fic and… Robin Wright is hot af. Also had to throw in some Duncan in there bc I love Cody Fern

Maybe you should feel worse right now about what you’re doing, but you don’t.

You, at the very least, should feel scared. The Underwoods, or well, Underwood... she was a powerful woman and if you stepped a millimeter out of place your life was likely in danger. Or so they said. Your in-laws were wary of her, you know, but she was wary of them, too. You think. She’s a difficult woman to read.

The rumors concerning the crimes her late husband supposedly committed are lengthy and convoluted, but you suspect they hold some truth to them. Most rumors usually aren’t based totally in fiction. Her husband was truly a ruthless motherfucker. Claire... Claire doesn’t seem to be ruthless. Nor does she seem to be what you would describe as a motherfucker.

No, she’s a cold hearted bitch. A bitter, sociopathic cunt.

But you never wanted what was good for you.

Sometimes, you swear you love Duncan and you wish it was easier to convince yourself. He a good husband, all things considered. Perhaps a little too focused on work, but... he treats you well to make up for it. He is loyal to a fault, if anyone ever was. You met him through a friend, and though it makes you feel guilty you used him in a vain attempt to get closer to Annette.

But Annette didn’t swing your way, as she told you in not so many words. Or, rather, she said, “Just be a good pet and marry my son. You on his arm will do well for everyone all around. Your dalliances on the side are no one’s business as long as you keep them secret enough that not even Duncan finds out.”

So you agreed, and accepted his proposal you figured she no doubt hounded him into. It’s not so much that you don’t like men, you do, and Duncan is such an attractive man, and he’s a thorough lover... it’s just you suppose you have a preference for women. Older women. You used to joke in high school that you wanted to be a high-end escort for rich older women getting away from their CEO husbands for the weekend.

But your parents would have never approved of that plan. So you went to law school instead. Which was fine. You make decent money without Duncan, but with him you’re somewhat of a young, hot power couple. You’re not really interested in policy the way his family is - you just like ingratiating yourself amongst these people with influence. You get off on brushing shoulders with the powerful. Parties don’t mean much to you. Everyone is truly an evil son of a bitch, no matter what they say when the cameras are on. No one cares about progress, not unless it’s self-serving.

The first time you met Claire, you thought you might die. She barely gave Duncan a second glance but you? She stood and chatted with you about your latest case your firm had taken - how she knew about it among all the other things on her mind, you don’t know - but it was a pleasant conversation, all things considered. You know her and Annette used to be close. You wonder how much Claire does know about you.

You know you can’t trust her. At all.

But after that incident, Duncan grinned and shook his head. “Wouldn’t want to give credence to those rumors. She might have it out for you.”

“Rumors?” You asked, panicking already. Did he know?

“That Claire is a lesbian. It’s been floating around some circles, that that’s why she wasn’t truly upset at her husband’s death, that that’s why she’s pushing so hard for female rights. It’s interesting. It is the first time I met her, but having done so it wouldn’t entirely surprise me.”

You can tell. That woman probably isn’t a lesbian, or if she is, she’s very good at utilizing her charm to make it seem as though she’s not. If anything, you’d peg her as asexual. She uses sex as a weapon. Fair enough. You’ve seen even weaker women feel the need to use it.

You wonder if she’s ever had sex purely for herself and not for manipulation purposes.

You wonder if she could even do that. You reckon you don’t really care if you found out the hard way.

It’s a few weeks later that you receive a message stating the President required your audience. And you know you should tell Annette, or Duncan at the very least, but you don’t. You know you shouldn’t show up at all. But Annette said to keep your dalliances secret. So secret they will stay.

“How loyal are you to the Shepherds?” Claire asks when you arrive. Straight to the point. Good.

“As loyal as I have to appear,” you tell her.

Claire smiles a little. “Why did you marry Duncan? He doesn’t seem quite your type.”

“And what do you presume my type is?”

“Perhaps more feminine. Older.”

“Mm. And what is your type, Ms President?”

“Why did you marry him? Did Annette threaten to out you?” she repeats.

“Not in so many words,” you say.

“Hmm. Interesting. He has no idea, I presume?”

“Why did you call me here?” you ask, your anxiety getting the better of you.

“I need information on the Shepherds. And I believe I have something you’d want in return.”

Your head starts spinning, but no, spinning is an understatement. It’s fucking doing somersaults. You cannot believe what she’s proposing.

“You want to prostitute yourself to me for information?”

And Claire does the last thing you ever expected the bitch to do. She walks across the room and slaps you across the face. Hard enough to sting, but not as hard as you bet she could. You feel the cold metal of her wedding ring press against your cheek as she grabs your chin, her cold blue eyes piercing through to your soul. “Don’t you dare fucking accuse the president of the United States of debasement, and don’t ever assume you have the upper hand.”

“Claire—“

“Are we on first name basis, slut?” she asks, her hand slithering down to your throat. Holy shit, you think. This bitch might actually fucking kill me. You think you’d care more if this wasn’t possibly the hottest thing that ever happened to you. “I didn’t think so. Now. What are your loyalties? Who are you closest to?”

“Duncan, obviously. Annette lets her guard down around me because she likes that I think she’s hot, but she still doesn’t like me. Bill and I don’t get along.”

“Interesting. How much does Duncan know?”

“I know more than Duncan.”

“Really, now? Are you just saying that? Because if you don’t prove to be useful...”

“What? You’ll kill me?”

Claire laughs. “No, you’re much more fun to me alive. But tell me… do you know where Duncan came from?”

“I mean, I truly don’t know how Annette’s cunt could birth anything, given how much of a bitch she is, but…”

Claire smiles. “Yes. Much more fun alive. Duncan is not her child.”

“Well, that’s a relief I don’t have any chance of keeping the Shepherd bloodline alive,” you snicker. “Where did he come from, then?”

“I’ll tell you… in time. But you have to tell him, too. In front of Annette and Bill. I want them all to know.”

“They’ll skin me alive if they knew I was here.”

“Do you want to fuck me or not? These are my terms.”

“So that is why I’m here?”

She only smirks at you, the wrinkles around her blue eyes crinkling as she does. “Your attraction to me is far more interesting than... well, men are pigs, right? I’m sure you are well aware. But you, you look at me like you want to fuck me, sure, but you also know your place. You respect me, even if you try to talk back. Men don’t know any better.”

“Have you ever slept with a woman before?”

She only smiles. “Does it matter?”

“Just wanted to know if there was credence to the rumors.”

“Rumors? You’re quite bold. I’m the one with my hand...wrapped around your throat.”

“It’d be pretty messy for you if you killed me right now,” you retort, wincing and rubbing your legs together as she increases the pressure on your neck.

“You’ll learn not to talk back, whore. To think you’re a married woman...”

“Yeah? Did you hold your marriage sacrosanct?”

There’s that smile again. She’s beautiful, ethereal, but there’s something so inhumane about the way her lips move upward to smirk at you. Maybe you should learn to shut your mouth, but you always were a brat. Besides, it’s more fun this way.

“I did.”

“Liar,” you accuse, smirking at her as you do, and she lets go of your throat and before you can miss the feeling too much she slaps your face again, the right cheek this time, much harder than the first time. You let out a startled, strangled moan on impulse, stumbling back a little against the wall.

“Oh, did that hurt?” she coos at you condescendingly, fixing a piece of your hair that fell out of place as you stand back up, pressing your back flat against the wall for stability. Claire crosses her arms and stands directly in front of you.

“I can take it. I can take more than that,” you say boldly.

“Oh? What else do you like, slut?”

“You name it, I’m game.”

“Anything? Handcuffs? Whips? Knives?”

You nod at everything she comes up with. Jesus, you would let this woman carve out your heart if she wanted it.

“If I make you bleed?”

“Better.”

“Interesting. Does Duncan play these little games with you?”

You laugh. “No.”

“You only want a woman to do these things to you?”

“Precisely. Are you kinky, Madam President?”

“Whatever my partner requires... I make certain I provide.”

“But what do you want?”

“I’m a hard woman to please.”

“Oh. Is that the kind way of saying Frank wasn’t good in bed?” you ask, feigning sympathy. She only smirks again. “I’m surprised you didn’t slap me for that. He must have really been awful.”

“You think you could do better?”

“Women do everything better,” you laugh, earning perhaps the only genuine smile you’ve gotten from this woman the whole time. “That’s why I wanted to know if you’ve been with a woman...”

“No. But I’ve thought about it. Never had a woman as interested as you.”

“I find that very hard to believe. Maybe you just never noticed. What gave it away?” You’re aching for her to touch you again, give you anything, even pain, but she stands still in front of you.

“I can just tell. Besides, I was interested to meet you. You’re the Shepherd’s weak link. I knew Annette didn’t vet you carefully enough.”

“Are you saying me being gay is an issue?”

“Are you so naive to think it wouldn’t be, given the state of this country?” she retorts. “But that’s not all. I can tell you don’t like them. I could tell you were easy... on more than one account.”

You roll your eyes. “I fucking hate Bill. I mean it’s awful to say, he’s not doing well physically, but he’s just made life a living hell for me.”

“Why?” she asks, tilting her head to the side.

“I don’t know. Maybe he hates gay people. Maybe he hates women. Both. Don’t know.”

“So everyone knows but Duncan? Funny how he’s kept out of all the good family secrets that concern him.”

You sigh. “See, sexuality’s a funny thing. I like Duncan. I do. And sometimes sex with him is good if not great. He’s a good partner. But I just prefer women.”

“Must be nice to have it figured out. Your generation did have it easier.”

You look at her questioningly. You never thought someone like her was human enough to struggle with such a thing, but perhaps that’s an unfair assessment.

Or she’s playing you.

Still. She’d have to be quite a good player - not that you should underestimate her skill - to talk about something as personal as her struggles with sexuality. Straight people just don’t get it. Would she really be this easily well versed if it was a game?

“There’s still a long ways to go,” you say.

“I intend to rectify that.”

“Of course you do.”

Her eyes narrow at you and she tilts her head. “Do you think I should be doing better?”

“Yeah. Come out, for starters.”

“Says the woman in a sham marriage.”

“It’s not a sham. I love Duncan,” you protest.

“Then why are you here, selling out his family just for a chance to fuck me? You’re not much better than I am.”

“I don’t think I’ve told you anything yet. Besides. It’s not his real family… as you say.”

“No. You haven’t told me anything I didn’t already know. But I haven’t fucked you yet either, have I?”

“Touché.”

“Come over here,” she beckons, leaning against the desk and once again it strikes you where you are - the fucking Oval Office. Are you seriously going to have sex in the Oval Office? Conservatives would be disgusted by this (although it wouldn’t be the first time this office was defiled). “Don’t look so scared now. You can’t back out at this point.”

You nod, trying not to look as nervous as you feel and walk the few steps over to her, your legs inches from hers. God, you’re practically dying from the anticipation alone.

“Does Duncan ever tell you how beautiful you are?” She asks. You’re absolutely shellshocked. There’s no trace of sarcasm in her voice.

“Sometimes,” you murmur.

“Just like men to not appreciate what they have.”

“Mm. Frank didn’t appreciate you, Claire? Didn’t make you feel good? I would. If you were my wife I’d make you come every fucking day,” you say, and boldly you decide to punctuate that statement by pressing your lips to hers.

Mistake. Or maybe not, you don’t know.

Her hands tangle in your hair and you feel her stand up, press against you firmly before backing you into the desk, pushing you onto it until your back is flat on the wood, and she’s hovering over you, her lips ghosting yours.

“I’m a hard woman to please,” she reiterates and you realize she never fucking lost her breath while you feel like the wind was knocked out of you. “I’m ambivalent about attention in general. But look at you, whore. You crave it, don’t you? Just want someone to tell you that you’re a good girl... oh, look at you squeeze your thighs together. Are you wet for me, slut?”

“Why don’t you see for yourself?” You ask, spreading your legs slightly for her.

She shakes her head, her straight platinum locks shifting as she does so, brushing against your face. “See? You’re not a good girl. You’re a dirty filthy whore and you just don’t know when to shut that whore mouth or close your fucking legs.”

You stay silent - you’re not sure what to do now. Do you antagonize her, push her further, see if it will rile her up again? Or do you try and kiss her again?

Claire has other ideas. “Beg,” she hisses in your ear. “Get down on your knees and beg for me.”

—- and I am evil and ending it there! Plz let me know if I should continue this!

[lorenfangor]

To be honest I had fully been on the train of Peter and Eva splitting up after the war (I think I read it in a fic and it stuck with me) but I never considered that Edriss was making Peter codependent and cut off from support before she disappeared! That makes sense actually, with how she wanted Hildy and Allison to be fully devoted to and obsessed with her. So now that I’m opening to listening, do you have any Peter/Eva GOOD relationship headcanons?

OH BOY DO I EVER

They met in college at an alcohol-soaked midnight screening of the Ralph Bakshi The Lord of the Rings animated movie. Peter came with his D&D buddies, Eva came with her ex girlfriend who she was on really good terms with.

Peter knew he’d fallen in love when Eva won $20 by reciting the entirety of the Markirya in Quenya while drunk off her ass on Admiral Nelson (we’re going to assume that the Markirya was published as a standalone volume in this universe, it’s cute)

They’re both Catholic; Eva is extremely devout and Peter is less devout, but they have a church wedding and Marco is baptized. They don’t really fight about religion that much

They’re fucking nerds. They have a massive curated VHS collection with a bunch of bootlegged Lupe Velez movies and pre-special-edition Star Wars. Peter also collects individual Star Trek tapes and Eva helps him assemble a dedicated Star Trek Bookcase for all of their episodes and movies. Marco comes by his geekery honestly.

They’re both bi, and while they’re not closeted they’re not super open about it. Eva goes to protests and marches in San Francisco, though, and they picked a college town in California to live in on purpose. Peter has a lot of friends in gay circles, and he and Eva host a lot of dinners and their home is always open.

Edriss pulled him away from his social circle and it took him a long time to really get the confidence back to reach out to his friends after she and Eva disappeared. All his buddies are fellow engineering and physics and computer science nerds; they all know each other. Yes, this means I firmly believe that Peter and “Henry McClellan” knew each other, and that all of Peter’s friends clocked “Henry” as gay, can’t-get-married-it’s-illegal-but-he’s-my-fucking-husband, and dying of An Unspecified Illness that had already severely impacted said husband

Peter and Eva do bicker now and again, and have debates and discussions, but their arguments are founded on love; their relationship isn’t tumultuous at all. They’re opinionated people and neither one backs down from a fight, which means they wind up sniping at one another over all sorts of things, but it’s not because they’re fundamentally unhealthy, it’s just part of marriage

Peter knows more Spanish than Marco does but most of what he knows are Mexican Catholic swears

Eva’s a stay at home mom but she’s got an English degree and wanted to go back to school for her master’s once Marco got into college, she wants to win a fight with a man Peter only knows as “that jackass from Mythlore” about queer readings of midcentury fantasy literature. Edriss pushed Peter away from helping out around the house because she was obsessed with Traditional 50s Housewife LARPing, but prior to that, he did a lot of the laundry and vacuuming and chores.

Once they went to a Renaissance faire and were so embarrassingly, disgustingly in love that eight-year-old Marco went full Fred Savage from The Princess Bride re: kissing

Peter is really, really, really horrified and scarred by what happened to him thanks to Edriss. It takes a lot of individual and couples’ therapy to start to process the fact that he was just as much a victim as she was.

Eva doesn’t hold what happened that last couple of years against him at all. In her view, he was being played, and expertly manipulated by a masterful actress, and it’s not his fault. He has a hard time with that, but he clings to her love for him as best he can. They have a lot of fights centering around his self-loathing and disgust with his inability to see what was going on.

Eventually, though, they really get to a better place, and they’re happier and stronger and more committed to one another postwar than prewar. Marco’s disappearance is absolutely devastating to them, but it doesn’t tear them apart, they bond over their grief and frustration.

Peter and Eva actually do visit Andal to pester the Andalite high command about any intel they might have re: the Rachel, and they meet Forlay and Noorlin as well as Alloran’s kids Ilise and Ardran. It’s a decent vacation except for the part where they learn nothing

They’re buried next to each other, when they die, in a cemetery in Santa Barbara.

[mldrgrl]

Broken Things 4/24

by: mldrgrl Rating: varies by chapter, rated R overall See Chapter 1 for summary and notes

John Byers steps out onto the porch of the mercantile as Mulder sets the brake in place on the carriage.  “Twice in one day, Mulder, is anything the matter?” he asks.

“Nothing at all,” Mulder answers.  “Is Susannah about?”

“She’s just inside.”

Mulder steps down from the carriage as John calls to his wife.  Susannah appears as Mulder is assisting Katherine down from her seat.  The first time Mulder met the Byers he wondered how they ever came to be married.  John is small and meek, dark-haired, keeps a well-trimmed beard and is fastidious about his person and his store.  Susannah is fair-haired and fair-skinned, taller than her husband and broader in the shoulders.  She is boisterous and jovial and, Mulder knows, hungry for friendships.

“Please allow me to introduce my neighbor, Katherine Wilis,” Mulder says.  “You may have heard that her husband met an unfortunate end just a few days ago.”

John looks at Mulder quizzically and Susannah practically leaps from the porch to take Katherine’s arm and embrace her.  “So lovely to meet you,” she says.  “I’m Susannah, and this is my husband John.  We run the mercantile here and if there’s ever anything we can do for you, you just let us know.”

“Actually,” Mulder says.  “Mrs. Willis is going to have to see to some affairs regarding her homestead and I thought, well, since Franklin is away at school, it may not be too much trouble for you if she could stay here for a night or two to sort things out.”

“Oh, yes!” Susannah says.  “Yes, please come right in and we’ll get you settled.”

Unsurprisingly, Susannah whisks Katherine away.  Mulder meets John’s eyes for a brief moment and then turns away to untie the valise from the hold under the seat.

“It seems you’ve taken responsibility for the Willis widow,” John says.

“I suppose you can say that,” Mulder answers.  “I’ve asked her to marry me.”

“Marry you!  And she’s taken you up on this lunatic proposal?”

“She said she’d like to think about it.”

“This is the most astonishingly foolish thing I’ve ever heard.”

“Maybe it’s foolish or I’m just soft.  You were right about the forthcoming eviction.  She’s got no claim on the homestead and you should have seen the place, John.  The old sod house is barely standing.  I think she’s putting on a brave front, but she has less than nothing.  If you could have seen her face when I showed up there, I’m almost certain she thought I had come to collect her for debtor’s prison.”

“Why not just send her back to her people, if you want to help?”

“She says she has none.”

“You’re talking about a lifelong commitment here, Mulder.  Do you really want to put yourself in that position?  Or her?”

“I would escort her to Fort Worth myself if I thought she’d be safe or do well there on her own, but she’s in unfamiliar territory amongst strangers.  Anyone could take advantage.”

“And that’s not what you’re doing?”

”Is that what it seems to you I’m doing?”

“I don’t know, but proposing to a woman you’ve only known for a handful of hours?  Couldn’t you at least do a little courting first?”

“Actually, I proposed to her within ten minutes of knowing her.”  Mulder takes the valise out of the hold and then puts a hand on John’s shoulder.  “I appreciate that you’re looking out for me, and I know it seems rash, but I did think things through.  You know I can’t hire her on as a cook or housemaid, which is what I’d do if I was back east.  Bringing a young, single woman, widowed or not, onto a ranch with six bachelors?  You know what that would look like, out here.  Bringing a bride onto a ranch, now that’s a different story and no one would bat an eyelash.”

“I can tell you’re intent on looking out for her and I think it’s admirable, but to yoke yourself to her just because she’s run into trouble?.”

“There’s another reason too.”

“Oh?”

“I happen to like her.  Now, I’m going to bring this bag in for her and then I’m going to head over to see Skinner before he closes for the day.  Please, don’t mention to Katherine that I’ve gone on to the bank.”

John sniffs lightly and smooths down his shirtfront.  “You know I’m not one to meddle in people’s affairs.”

Mulder laughs and claps John on the shoulder.  It is well known that John Byers is the town gossip and is very rarely able to keep his opinions to himself, if their conversation just now is any indication.  He heads into the store to find Katherine and discovers her in the back room with Susannah, who’s making what appears to be tea and cookies.  He holds the valise up to her as a greeting.

“Ladies, I’ll be going now.  Katherine, I’ll be by tomorrow morning to bring you over to Mr. Skinner.”

“I appreciate that, thank you.”

“Susannah, I’m going to trust you to outfit Katherine with whatever she might need and put it on the account.”

“Oh no,” Katherine protests.  “I don’t need anything.”

“Sure you do.  Boots, stockings, material, and I’m sure there are lady soaps or tinctures or baubles of some kind you could make use of.”

“That’s really unnecessary, I don’t-”

“Susannah, excuse us for just a moment.”  Mulder gently cups Katherine’s elbow and leads her away out of earshot.  He speaks low and close to her to make sure the conversation stays private.  “If you accept my proposal, or you do not, either way there are things you’re going to need to get yourself started.  You would do me an honor if you would allow me to ease that burden for you.”

“Then I should like to pay you back.”

“You can pay me back by making sure you put good use to the things you buy.”

“It won’t be anything frivolous, I promise that.”

“It could be as frivolous as you like, as long as you enjoy it.”

“I don’t understand why you’re helping me with so much and I can’t even do anything for you in return.”

“I’ve enjoyed your company thus far, and that’s more than enough.”  He hands her the valise and finds that he has to restrain himself from leaning over to kiss her on the cheek.  “I’ll see you tomorrow morning.”

“Alright.”

He’s feeling pretty sure of himself until he leaves the mercantile and then he gets to thinking about what Byers had said and suddenly he’s less confident.  He does want to marry her, he’s resolved on that, but what if what’s best for her is that he can offer her other options, not just one of marriage?  She should have as many choices as she can, not just one.

He’s brooding a bit when he walks into the bank and waves his hat at Walter Skinner in greeting, trying not to scowl as he does.  The bespectacled bank manager frowns a little, but he’s always frowning, in Mulder’s estimation.

“Mr. Mulder,” Skinner says, ushering him towards the side office and to his desk to sit.  “What can I do for you today?”

“I’m sure you’re aware that my neighbor, Jack Willis, passed on rather abruptly a few days ago.”

“Yes, I am well aware of that.”  Skinner pushes his spectacles up his nose and then clasps his hands together and sits tall in his chair across from Mulder.

“What kind of trouble is Mrs. Willis looking at with the land?”

“You know I can’t discuss the accounts of other landholders with you.”

“Well, I’ll be bringing Katherine Willis by tomorrow morning to discuss the terms of the lease with you, but I’d like to know exactly how much is owed before I transfer the money.”

“You’re going to settle her account?  What exactly are your intentions?”

“Only to bring the account to good standing so that Mrs. Willis may receive a fair price for transferring ownership.”

“There hasn’t been a single payment made on that lease.”

“And if I were to take it over, would the option to purchase be readily available or do I need to wait the five years to put in for it?”

Skinner gets up from his desk and moves to a filing cabinet.  He rifles through it for a few moments and then pulls out a folder and sits down again.  He takes a blank piece of paper from his desk drawer, wets the tip of a graphite pencil with his tongue, and then sets to work on some figures.

“You’re looking at 320 acres, last valuation at two dollars an acre.  The amount owed is currently 64 dollars, plus taxes and penalties. It’ll be roughly 85 dollars to take over the lease and 736 dollars to take the option.”

“Good.  Transfer the 85 now to the account.  Tomorrow, I’d like you to please inform Mrs. Willis that the lease was paid timely, and in full by her late husband.  How long will it take to transfer the title as beneficiary?”

“A few weeks.”

“You wouldn’t happen to know what’s become of Jack Willis’ remains, would you?”

“I hear they’re keeping him in the icehouse until the undertaker comes through.”

“I guess that means Mr. Carter is handling the arrangements.  You see him, you tell him he can send the bill on to me.”

“I’ve known you to do some strange things over the years, Mulder, but you’re going to extraordinary lengths to get a piece of land you could probably purchase at half the price at auction.”

“It’s not about the money.  Right now I’m going to do everything I can to make sure Katherine Willis is taken care of.”

Skinner sits back in his chair and crosses his arms.  “This woman have something over you?”

“Not at all.  I only met her this morning.”

Skinner raises his brows and then shakes his head.  He puts the paper with the figures he’s written into the folder from the filing cabinet and then clasps his hands together again and rests them on top of the folder.

“It’s your money,” Skinner says.

“Just be sure to tell Mrs. Willis that her husband kept the account in good standing tomorrow.”  Mulder stands and puts his hat back on.  “Pleasure doing business with you, Skinner.”

“Mr. Mulder.”

↭

Susannah is a chatty one, Katherine thinks.  Through two cups of tea, she’s heard about how her new friend met her husband, how they moved from Philadelphia to Texas ten years ago, how her eldest son is studying journalism at a college in Missouri and dreams of operating his own newspaper, and how her youngest son intends to take on the family business one day.  It’s a relief that Susannah likes to talk and doesn’t pry.  Mulder was right when he said that Susannah would be delighted for a lady friend.

“What can you tell me about Mr. Mulder?” Katherine asks.

“I think he’s been out here about four or five years now,” Susannah says, resting her teacup on her saucer to answer.  “He’s built up a nice little ranch.  Our John Jr. had riding lessons from him a few years back when he got old enough to start making deliveries with the wagon.”

“He’s been very kind to me.  I wonder if it’s not...put on somehow?”

“Mulder?  No, what you see is what you get with Mulder.”

“He asked me to marry him.”

Susannah freezes with her teacup almost to her lips and her eyes grow wide.  She lowers her cup once again and it rattles against the saucer.  “Well, my goodness,” she says.  “I didn’t even know the two of you were friendly.”

“We actually just met earlier today.”

“Gracious.”  Susannah cocks her head as though considering the offer.  “That does seem quite in character for Mulder, though.”

“How so?”

“I think he’s the kind of man who gives in to impulse.”

“Hm.”  Katherine frowns just a little and ponders on that over her tea.

“Oh no, dear, not in a silly or reckless way.  Well, let me see.  I was thinking about a time we used to receive deliveries from a company in Fort Worth.  The delivery man, Alex was his name, we’d only had him come in a handful of times, but there was one time that Mulder happened to be in the store and he told Alex something about his horse.  I think it was that it was the wrong horse for the job, or something to that effect.  Alex didn’t seem to acknowledge the advice one way or the other, but the next time he came through, we all heard this fuss outside and naturally, I assumed it was probably just a ruckus spilled out of the saloon, but Mulder had Alex off his wagon in the dirt, had a switch that he was busting up over his knee, and yelling at the man that if he ever saw him beating a horse again he would take the switch to him instead of busting it up the next time.”

Katherine feels herself shrinking just a little.  She has had far too much of irrational, temperamental men in her life and she won’t take on another.  “Is he often violent?” she asks.

“Not at all!  I’m only trying to explain that Mulder is not a passive man.  He wouldn’t stand by and let an animal be mistreated and most folks will.  He took that horse from Alex, paid him money for it too, I believe, and then bought him a ticket back to Fort Worth on the stagecoach.  And I think he sent one of the boys from out on the ranch to make sure the rest of his deliveries were made.”

“I met the men today before we came here.  They seem awfully devoted to him.”

“Yes, I would say that’s true.  From what I can tell he treats them very well.  Whenever he happens to be in the store he seems to find something he thinks they need.”

“He’s obviously very generous.”

“Oh, don’t let him come in on a day when some of the local children might be here.  They walk away with bags of penny candy.  Speaking of generosity, he told me to make sure I outfit you and you know I just remembered we got in some new calico I think would suit you fine.  Let’s go and have a look at it.”

“Susannah,” Katherine says, putting her hand lightly on Susannah’s arm to hold her off from getting up just yet.  “With all that you know about Mr. Mulder, do you think I should accept his proposal?”

“I don’t know.  I can’t imagine marrying a man I just met, but I will tell you that I think Mulder is a decent man.  I don’t know of any vices he has.  Definitely doesn’t partake of alcohol, he’s never purchased tobacco, and I don’t even think he’s set foot in the saloon.  And it’s unlikely to be for religious purposes as he’s never been to service.  Will any of that make him a good husband?  I can’t say.”

Katherine nods.  She isn’t looking for a good husband, or any husband at all, really, she just doesn’t want another bad one.

[thetravelerwrites]

Courtship of the Headless King: Chapter Two

Rating: General Audiences Fandoms: 忘却の首と姫 | Boukyaku no Shirushi to Hime | The Princess and The Forgotten Head Relationship: Female Human/Male Headless King Additional Tags: Slow Burn, Political Marriage, Power Dynamic, Headless King Content Warnings: Mentions of Suicide, Mentions of Murder, Mentions of Abductions Words: 4448

Lilya conducts her marriage interview with His Majesty. Please reblog and leave feedback!

There was a tense moment in which no one moved. The triplets and the king’s attendants watched apprehensively as Lilya stood there, taking in the sight she was seeing. Slowly, she took a step forward, and then another, and stopped right in front of the desk.

“Does that hurt?” Lilya asked softly.

The king actually took a small step backward, clearly not expecting this. For a moment, no one knew how to react to her question. After a minute of heavy silence, His Majesty picked up a pad of paper that lay on the desk in front of him and began to write.

~No, it doesn’t hurt.~

“Oh, that’s a relief,” Lilya said, placing a hand over her heart. “I’ve seen people lose their heads before; it always looked like it hurt terribly.”

The king began to write again. ~You were present during such barbaric acts?~

Lilya nodded shakily. “The royal family in Tritsia was captured during the war and were forced to witness many terrible things. Able-bodied countrymen were rounded up and executed en masse in a horrible show of power, even if they were just farmers or merchants. We were made to watch them all.”

All five attendants exchanged looks of horror.

~That must have been harrowing. How old were you when this happened?~

“It started when I was ten, after my father was killed, and carried on until Couliea claimed our land for themselves three years ago. I helped dig a fair number graves during that time.”

~How old are you now?~

“Nineteen, Your Majesty,” Lilya said.

Conversation died briefly, but after a moment, the king began to write again.

~Would you like to sit down?~

“Oh, yes, thank you,” Lilya said. Raba brought a chair for her and she took a seat. His Majesty waved his hand, and all five of the attendants bowed and left the room, closing the door behind them. Peridot winked at them as she exited.

~Are you not afraid of me?~ His Majesty asked.

“Not really, no,” Lilya replied. “After all that’s happened, I’m not afraid of very much anymore. Should I be scared?”

~This meeting marks three thousand, six hundred and sixty-two marriage interviews that I’ve conducted. You are the first and only woman who has seen me and not screamed, run, fainted, vomited, burst into hysterics, or begged me to let them go, fearful that I’d eat them or some other nonsense.~

“How awful. I couldn’t imagine someone treating you so cruelly. Why would they even come if they didn’t want to?”

~Pressure from their families. The political gain of a union with Banfarie would be a boon to any country on the continent. The appeal of that power and influence drives people to do things they don’t want to do. Either the women would cry hysterically and run away, or they would swallow their disgust and force themselves to conduct the interviews as if it were normal, all the while looking as if the idea of marrying me made them sick.~

“That was terribly rude of them,” Lilya replied, incensed.

His Majesty’s shoulders shook slightly, and Lilya thought he might be laughing.

~In all fairness to them, I am unusual and a little frightening.~

“That’s no excuse! So what if you’re a bit different? That’s no reason to make such a fuss. How would they like it if people acted that way around them? I know my feelings would be hurt. They should have been more considerate.”

His Majesty was completely still for a full minute. Lilya was beginning to wonder if he was alright, when he started to write again.

~You’re rather unusual, aren’t you?~

Lilya laughed good-naturedly. “I suppose so.” She looked at the paper and pen in his hand thoughtfully. “It must be difficult for you to communicate sometimes. I know most people of royal or noble birth are required to learn to read and write, but even in a prosperous nation like this one, many people are illiterate. Do you have trouble communicating with your staff?”

He moved his shoulders in such a way that it put Lilya in mind of someone shaking their head.

~No, since most of my staff are made up of fairies and spirits, my magic allows me to communicate telepathically with them. If needed, they can convey my thoughts to others.~

“Oh, I see! That’s how you spoke to Raba when the door was closed.”

~Yes.~

“Do you know any of the signing languages? Perhaps we could talk that way.”

His Majesty visibly perked up and began gesturing.

“Oh! No, I’m sorry, I don’t know the signing languages, I just meant that I’d be willing to learn it so that we could communicate easier with each other.”

He stopped signing, but he didn’t seem disappointed. Rather the opposite, he seemed touched.

~You’d be willing to learn an entire language just to be able to talk to me?~

“Well, yes. After all, if you accept me, I’d also need to learn this country’s native language to talk to the citizens. Adding another language to my curriculum wouldn’t be so bad.” She leaned forward a little, and His Majesty leaned back, as if intimidated. “This may be an impertinent question and you don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to, but may I ask how you lost your head?”

~It’s alright. I removed it myself.~

Lilya looked both horrified and impressed. “Whatever for?”

He paused for a moment before writing again, and this time he wrote out an extended statement.

~I was the son of a concubine who died during my birth. Apparently, I resembled her very much and did not take after my father, the king, at all. The queen’s children, my half-siblings, bullied me relentlessly, often questioning the legitimacy of my birth and whether or not I was indeed my father’s son. They spread rumors about me and my mother, which eventually got back to my father. He also began to question my birthright and threatened to send me into exile. In anger, I somehow managed to pry off my own head and throw it into the Aurora. I think I’d meant to end my own life, but I survived somehow. When my father saw this display of my magical power, he reversed his position and put me first in line for the throne, even though he had four sons by the queen who were all older than me. I was crowned king the following year, and the year after, my father passed away.~

“How old where you when you became king?”

~Twenty-two.~

“How old are you now?”

~One hundred and sixty years old.~

Lilya’s eyes widened in shock.

~Does my age upset you?~

“No, not at all, it’s just…” She frowned in sympathy but fell silent. It must be lonely to have lived alone for so long, she thought to herself.

~I have not aged since I lost my head. I think the magic of the Aurora is what keeps me alive.~

“That’s incredible,” Lilya breathed. “I’ve never heard of such a thing happening.”

~My family has always been strange.~

Lilya chuckled a little. “How are you able to see and hear without a head?”

~Magic. It’s hard to explain to in simple terms, but I don’t see or hear in the same way as normal humans. It’s more of a perception of the wavelengths created by light, shadow, and sound by my whole body instead of my head. I can perceive those sensations similarly to true sight and hearing, but it’s not quite the same.~

“That’s fascinating,” She said, leaning closer. “May I ask you something else that might be a little personal?”

He seemed to laugh again. ~More so than you have already done? Please do.~

“You’ve only been conducting marriage interviews for the last sixty years, right? That means you had already been ruling for almost eighty years without a queen. Why did you suddenly start looking for a wife?”

~My attendants began to pressure me to marry and sire an heir.~

“Is that the only reason?”

~What other reason would there be?~

“Weren’t you lonely?”

His Majesty’s hands were motionless and he seemed to be thinking.

~Perhaps.~

Then he fell still again, as if he didn’t know what else to say.

Lilya smiled a little. “You don’t enjoy these interviews, do you, my Lord?”

He gave another shoulder-shake of laughter. ~No, not at all. I believe this may have been the longest conversation I’ve had with a human woman in my entire life.~

“Oh, goodness,” Lilya said, holding a hand to her mouth in surprise. “I hope I haven’t bored you, my Lord.”

~Not in the slightest. This has been surprisingly pleasant.~

“Oh good,” She said, relieved.

~You’ve asked me a fair number of questions. May I ask you something in return?~

“Of course, My Lord.”

~What is one thing you wish for more than anything?~

Lilya looked out of the far window and thought about the question. She had never spent much time wishing for anything, knowing that wishes did little to affect reality. After all, she had wished for her father back numerous times, and for the terrible atrocities committed against her country to stop, and that had never happened. The only thing she really wished for was the safety of her people, but how could she achieve that?

“Walls,” She said suddenly.

~Walls?~

“The borders of my homeland have no defenses. People from outside the kingdom come in and steal food, destroy crops, take livestock, and even abduct people right out of the fields, and we have nothing to stop them. My land grows smaller every day because people just come in and take whatever they like, whenever they like. I wish we could do more to protect ourselves, but we have no military or security forces. Walls would be just as effective as guards, perhaps more so.”

You care very much about your home and people, at your own expense, it seems.

“Yes,” Lilya said, clutching the pendant on her neck. “I… I sold the tiara you sent to me so that I could feed the people affected by a famine on our southern border. It was a lovely gift and I was quite touched by it, Peridot even took this jewel off for me to keep,” She pulled it up to show him. “But… my people needed food more than I needed a crown. I hope you won’t be too disappointed in me, but… I didn’t want to lie or mislead you.”

~I see. He sat quietly, as if in thought. Very well. It will be done. I’ll have construction teams sent out to Tritsia right away.~

Lilya looked up in shock. “Wha… You’re Majesty! I wasn’t… I didn’t mean…”

~I know you didn’t. It is my gift to you for your understanding and patience. This has been one of the most enjoyable mornings I’ve had in many years. That alone is worth giving you some peace of mind.~ 

He stood up and made for the door. Overwhelmed by his generosity and on the verge of tears, Lilya jumped out of her chair as his Majesty passed her.

“I’ll marry you!”

His Majesty stopped dead in his tracks and turned. He hadn’t brought the paper with him so he couldn’t respond, but he was rooted to the spot as if frozen.

“This is the kindest thing anyone has ever done for me or my people. How could I possibly refuse?”

This spurred him to action. He walked briskly back to the desk and wrote on the notepad.

~I didn’t do it to buy your cooperation,~ He protested. ~It’s only a gift, nothing more. I expected for us to continue the interview after I made the arrangements. You don’t have to accept because you feel obligated to repay me.~

“No, that’s not it at all!” Lilya protested. “I don’t know what all those women saw when they looked at you, but it can’t be the same thing I see.”

~What is it that you see?~

She took a deep breath and attempt to gather her thoughts into a coherent fashion. “Maybe when they saw you, you reminded them of a storm that covered the sky at night, full of destructive power, and it made them afraid. But… all I can see when I look at you is what’s behind the storm.”

~Which is?~

“You’re the stars, not the storm. Your Majesty, you’re the light that shines when the storm passes.” She shook her head and laid it in her hands, unable to keep her overwhelmed tears from spilling. “Oh, I don’t even know if I’m making sense. But, Your Majesty, please believe me when I tell you that I don’t just want to marry you because I feel as if I’m in your debt, even though I most certainly am in your debt. I want to marry you because… I… I just do! I don’t even know how to explain it properly. I just… I would be happy to be your wife and honored to be your queen. If that’s what you want.”

~Wouldn’t you be happier marrying a normal man?~

“My Lord, I had no thoughts of marrying at all before I received your summons. If I did marry, it would most likely have been someone my family chose for me. With you, I get a choice. And I’ve chosen you.”

Slowly, he wrote, ~Are you sure?~

“Yes, I’m certain.”

~Then why are you crying?~

“Because I’m happy,” She replied, her voice shuddering as she laughed.

He held out his hand to her. ~You truly mean this? You’re accepting the proposal?~

“Yes,” She replied, taking his hand. “I’ll marry you right now if you want.”

He seemed to chuckle. ~It is enough that you said yes freely and without reservation. I am pleased.~

He turned toward the door, and it flew open after a moment, and all five of the attendants stood there with their mouths hanging open, staring at the pair holding hands. He must have told them the good news telepathically.

“Sire, congratulations!” Larima said. “It’s about time one of these women saw sense!”

“Larima, hold you’re tongue!” Aquamarine said, boxing one of his ears.

“His Majesty says that the wedding will have to be soon,” Raba told Lilya. “He regrets to have to rush it, but there is a political upheaval brewing to the west that he must take care of. He honestly hadn’t expected you to accept, so he hadn’t canceled his plans to intervene.”

“That’s quite alright,” Lilya said, grinning a little giddily. I can’t believe it! I’m really getting married! “I understand his Majesty must be terribly busy. I don’t mind if the wedding is soon. Oh!” She turned back to the king. “Can my family attend the wedding? I promised that I’d keep in touch with them, and I’d like them to meet you. Would that be alright?”

“He says that would be fine, except he’s worried that your family will not like him, which doesn’t normally bother him, but that it may cause trouble for you,” Raba said.

“It’s fine, I’ll explain everything to them. Thank you, Your Majesty!”

Lilya threw her arms around His Majesty’s waist, hugging him. He went completely still and his body tensed under hers, as if he were at the mercy of a pack of rabid dogs. Lilya, sensing his discomfort, released him immediately.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to overstep! I was just so excited that I acted without thinking.”

If a headless person could gulp, His Majesty would have done so. He straightened his lace collar and waved his hand.

“He says it’s alright, he was just startled,” Peridot said. “He also says that as his chosen queen, your word is equal to his. You may give any order you wish and the staff with follow it without hesitation.”

“I understand, Your Majesty. Thank you.”

He bowed deeply in response, his arm across his chest as a show of respect.

Peridot clapped her hands eagerly. “Come now, princess! There’s much to do to get ready for the wedding and only a short amount of time to do it!”

The triplets led Lilya from the room, tittering happily. Once the door closed behind them, the king fell into a chair as if exhausted.

She’s like a whirlwind, He said to Raba and Larima. I am completely at her mercy.

“I’ve never seen you like this, My Lord,” Raba said. “She must have made one hell of a first impression.”

That is an understatement. Send a letter to her family inviting them to the wedding. It’ll make her happy to see them.

“Of course, Your Majesty,” Larima said. “But… are you sure she’s the one? In all these years, after all those interviews, are you sure you’ve found your queen?”

It’s her; I knew it the moment I saw her, the second I heard her voice.

“The second she didn’t scream, you mean, sire?” Larima said. Raba flicked him in the forehead.

I’ve spent sixty years… no, much longer than that, looking for her. I’m not going to wait anymore. Begin preparations for the wedding immediately.

“Yes, My Lord.”

It took only a week for the preparations to be complete, seeing as the wedding would be a small affair. His Majesty said he would give Lilya any kind of wedding she wanted, no matter the expense, but she said all she wanted was for her family to be there and nothing else. All that was left now was to wait for Lilya’s family to arrive.

She hadn’t seen his Majesty since the interview, but she knew he had to have been incredibly busy. He was the monarch of a vast empire, after all, and he genuinely didn’t think he’d be getting married so soon.

A day before her family was due to arrive, a dress appeared in her quarters. It was gorgeous; a white, princess cut ball gown with a sheer layer of silk over the top painted with pink roses. The neckline was a low square-cut and it had half-sleeves with lace frills. On top of the mannequin holding it was a lace veil that trailed the ground and glittered as though it was woven from diamonds.

“Oh, how beautiful!” Lilya said. “Is this for me?”

“Yes, it’s your wedding gown,” Aquamarine said. “His Majesty had it sent down for a fitting.”

“It’s lovely,” She breathed, daring to reach out and touch the fabric, though it looked so delicate that it might disintegrate under her fingertips.

“Here, let us help you,” Garnet said, beginning to untie the laces.

Garnet, Aquarmarine, and Peridot assisted Lilya in putting the dress on. Though it fit like a glove around the waist, the skirt was just slightly too long. The sisters assured her it was a quick and easy fix.

That night, she was alone in her room looking at the dress, newly tailored and ready to be worn, and began to get anxious.

“What if I trip and tear it?” She fretted. “A dress like this couldn’t have been made in just a few days, no matter how many seamstresses worked on it; The lace on the train alone would have taken months to tat. It must be some kind of imperial heirloom. What would I do if I destroyed it? Would His Majesty be angry or cancel the wedding? What if he decides he doesn’t want a klutz for a wife?” Lilya scrubbed her face and sighed forcefully. “I need some air.”

She went to the long gable windows and unlatched one side, letting it swing open. The night air was cool and refreshing, and the aroma of the nearby gardens was soothing.

As she was about to close the window again, a wild gust of wind rushed in and caught up the veil, blowing it out of the window.

“No!” Lilya yelled, throwing her foot out of the window and jumping to the ground. It was a good thing her room was on the ground floor. She chased the veil across the lawn until it eventually got caught in the branches of a tree.

“Oh, come on!” She groused. The branched were too high for her to reach, so she was going to have to climb the tree in her nightgown to get it back. It didn’t help that there were no low branches for her to grab on, so she was basically going to have to shimmy up the trunk. How dignified.

“Okay,” She said, taking a breath before she started up. One foot, one hand, over and over. It seemed to take ages, and when she looked down, it was as if she hadn’t moved at all. “Ugh, I shouldn’t have stopped working in the stables. I have no core strength anymore.”

She was nearly at the lower-most branch when her foot slipped and she lost her grip, falling from the tree. She expected to hit the ground pretty hard, but she fell onto something soft. Looking around, she realized to her horror that His Majesty,  was on his back underneath her, having broken her fall. He was dressed in a casual white buttoned-up shirt and simple black slacks, likely his sleepwear.

“Oh, my goodness, I’m so sorry!” She said, scrambling to get off of him. “Are you alright?”

He pulled out a small pad of paper from the inside of his shirt and a fountain pen.

~I’m fine. Are you alright? Why were you climbing a tree at this hour?~

“My veil,” She replied, pointing at the branches. “It flew out of the window. I was trying to get it back down.”

~Why didn’t you call the sisters?~

She laughed a little self-consciously. “I panicked. I was scared that I’d tear it and you’d be upset with me.”

~I wouldn’t be upset over such a trivial thing. It’s just a piece of fabric.~

“How did you know I was out here?”

~I saw you from the window of my suite. I was worried you would hurt yourself or that you were running away.~

She was a little alarmed. “Were you chasing me down to bring me back?”

~No, I was going to watch over you until you got somewhere safe. Don’t worry, you’re free to change your mind at any time. I wouldn’t hold that against you.~

“Oh,” She said, surprised. “Your Majesty, I have no intention on going back on my decision. I meant it when I said I’m happy to be your bride. You feel the same, don’t you?”

He didn’t answer. Instead, he stood up and easily reached the branch with the veil. He was quite a bit taller than she was. Pulling it down carefully, he folded it and handed it back to her.

“Sorry to have caused you trouble,” She said, worried by his silence. “I’m afraid you’re bride-to-be is a little clumsy.”

~It’s nothing. Let’s go back.~ He held out his hand for her to stand up, and she took it, feeling sad.

He doesn’t want to marry me, She thought. He’s just doing it because I’m the only one who didn’t refuse him. I like him very much, but he doesn’t feel anything for me. That’s not fair to him.

The triplets met them back at the castle and escorted her back to her room. His Majesty left her in their care with a bow and went back to his quarters.

“Just call us next time, My Lady!” Garnet said. “His Majesty would be devastated if anything happened to you.”

“He might be inconvenienced, but I think devastated might be too strong a word,” She said. “He doesn’t even really want to marry me, he just thinks he has to.”

Peridot scoffed. “Why on earth would you think such a thing?”

“Isn’t it obvious? I’m just the only person who accepted. I’ve only seen him once since the marriage interview, and that’s because he was rescuing me from a fall. He doesn’t really want to be with me.”

“My Lady, that’s absurd, of course he wants to marry you!”

“How can you be sure?”

“Look,” Aquamarine said as they reached her room. She opened the door and lay the veil back on the mannequin with the dress. “You see this? Where do you think it came from?”

“It’s an heirloom, right? Something that’s been in the royal family forever? It couldn’t have been made just for me, there wasn’t enough time for that.”

“That’s where you’re wrong,” Garnet said. “His Majesty himself made this gown for you.”

“He did?” Lilya exclaimed, looking more carefully at the gown.

“Yes, with his magic. Do you know what he said to us when we were waiting outside of the office door after you agreed to marry him?”

“What?”

“’She said yes!’ he said. Every interview before always ended the same. He would tell us, ‘I don’t like her’ or ‘she’s lying’ or ‘she looks like she’s going to pass out, take her back to her room and let her go home’ or ‘why do they keep sending these women with dirty souls to me?’ He always sounded so dejected. But when you accepted, he was so excited. I’ve never heard him sound so happy.”

“Miss Lilya, you must understand,” Peridot said. “His Majesty’s mother died when he was born, and he was raised by nurses. In truth, he grew up never knowing the love of another person. Now as a man, he has no idea how to express affection for others. Until now, it’s never come up as a problem, but he sincerely wants you to be happy.” She pointed at the dress as an example, and then to the pad of paper on her desk. “You see those notebooks?”

“Yes?”

“Ordinarily, those would only be in one place: and His Majesty’s office, since that is the only place His Majesty meets with people who can’t hear him telepathically. But now, every single room in the castle has a notebook, just in case you’d like to talk to him. He’s doing everything he knows how to do to make it comfortable and easy for you, he’s just operating outside of his, admittedly, vast expertise. Give him some time. He’s very intelligent, if a little dense and insensitive. He’ll learn.”

Lilya smiled softly, touched. “I had no idea.” She pulled the sisters in for a hug. “You’re right, I shouldn’t jump to conclusions. His Majesty and I don’t know each other well, for all that we’ll be married in a few days. I think when he gets back from the diplomatic trip, we should spend time rectifying that.”

“I think that’s a lovely idea,” Aquamarine said.

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My Masterlist

The Exophilia Creator’s Masterlist

[knowltonsrangers]

Alphabet: Lafayette

[a/n: Here’s Laf!! For the lovely @thefanficnerd ❤️Hope u enjoy! ❤️]

Marquis de Lafayette x reader

A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)

Anytime, any place, anywhere. Between tucking loose hairs back behind your ears, to looping your fingers together in a tight hold, the answer to affection is always yes. Laf shows affection in his own ways, and it’s these little things that send you into a flurry.

B = Best friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?)

Oh, literally the sweetest guy! He’s a good friend, because he’s an excellent listener and is brimming with amazing advice. He’d always give you a choice, and never turn his back. If something were to occur with your friendship, he wouldn’t get mad and blow you off. He’d like to talk it out and make amends, if plausible. Text him at 3 am? He’ll answer moments later. He’d be there every step of the way, no matter what!

The friendship could start literally anywhere. Laf is a little less shy then Baker, so he’d spark a conversation just based on the shirt you’re wearing. Sitting next to him in a long lecture hall is always entertaining, because passing notes or working on assignments together is almost a given.

C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)

OH BOY YES. Switches between big & little spoon, but I’d say he’s 75% of the time big spoon in cuddling. Just cause he’s always wanting to show how much he loves you, and when he’s got you in front of him, it takes so much willpower to not kiss you silly. He cuddles in bed, and snuggles on the couch.

D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)

Oh yes! Yes to settling down, for sure! It’ll only take a couple months of dating to see how much of his heart he gives to you, so moving in together is a given if you are down for that!

About cooking & cleaning, man he is absolutely the best roommate on those types of things. While you both have designated chores and such when it comes to cleaning, cooking is where it becomes fun. Time in the kitchen is best spent, because of the shared meals and laughs. Getting to make dinner together is almost as fun as eating it together!

E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

I hate to say it, but Laf is pretty loyal to a fault. He’s extremely trusting and maybe that goes over his head sometimes. If he had to break up with you for a reason, I’d take him some time alone to really think it over. It would most likely be an argument that would ignite the fire, but maybe a build up of things start the sparks.

Breaking up would be absolutely in person, and it would be calmly stated. No fighting, because his hearts already shattered.

(this made me so sad to type ffffs)

F = Fiance(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)

Commitment is 100%! When you got him, he’s yours. He wouldn’t jump down your throat about marriage, but it would come up naturally. Because it only takes him a short time to know that your his soulmate, and whenever you’re ready, he’ll wait until then!

G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

GENTLE is like the word I use the most to describe Laf! (especially TURN! Laf) regarding physically, his touches are feather light and full of emotions. Emotionally, I’d say he has a better guard up than most. Similar to Baker, it’d take a low blow to see him get upset or angry. He’s careful with his feelings, but he’s very open with you about them.

H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)

If y’all ain’t holding hands, y’all are hugging. Laf loves to slide his arms around your shoulders and squeeze you silly. He loves to mumble how much he loves you in your ear, and press kisses all along your temple. 🥺

I = I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?)

I’d say after six months, give or take. If one of you were to go away for a while, he’d probably say it then, because half his heart is missing when you’re not around. He’d either say it in a moment of confidence, or a moment of vulnerability. If you say it first, all his doubts vanish and he’ll reply energetically the same!

J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?)

35%? That’s a bit much, and I don’t see him as a jealous boyfriend type! it’s not so much that he’s insecure, but it’s that he enjoys and cherishes his memories with you. If someone else were to wedge in and divide your relationship in half, he’d be jealous of the less and less time spent together.

And on what he’d do? He’d talk to you about it. Pull you aside about it one night. He’s eager and willing to find a solution!

K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

ANGELIC. No cap! Soft and fluttery and warm. He loves to kiss you on the corners of your mouth, but kisses are never scarce just at the tops of your cheekbones. Kissing away any sad day tears :,)

He loves to be kissed on the underside of his jaw, but he melts when you peck him on the lips.

L = Little ones (How are they around children?)

BEST. Dad mode? Activated. He’ll sit himself right on the ground, no matter where, and carry on a conversation with a child for as long as they’d like. If you have family that is younger or an infant, he’s all over them at gatherings and such. His voice is so caring and soft, and his accent floats along with his words in such a calming tone.

Babies fall asleep in his arms INSTANTLY

M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)

smooching over coffee or tea. Just kidding! Well, kinda. Good Morning kisses are a must, and while it’s very difficult to get out of bed, y’all drag each other out. Monday’s it’s Laf, Friday’s it’s usually you. By the end of the week, you’re wiped out, and Laf is just a bundle of energy.

N = Night (How are nights spent with them?)

MOVIE DATES AND DINNER DATES AND WALKS IN THE PARK AND HAND HOLDING AND FEEDING DUCKS. Could all be in one night or just several different dates. It doesn’t matter, Laf just enjoys doing the simplest things with you!

O = Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)

Rather slowly, I’d say? It’s just by his nature to want to hear the most he can about you, because he’s throughly interested. He just wants to know your favorite color, food, season.. literally everything! And don’t be discouraged that he’s not sharing his favorites with you, just ask :) He actually doesn’t even realize that he’s withholding information. There is no keeping secrets with him!

P = Patience (How easily angered are they?)

It takes a lot, and I mean a LOT to get Laf angry. He is so usually calm and collected, that seeing him in an angered frenzy is kinda shocking. If you catch him on a bad day, be careful to note that it’s most likely not his intention to direct any anger at you. If he catches himself being cross with you, expect a dozen apologies and kisses later.

Q = Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?)

He doesn’t have a photographic memory, but it’s pretty damn close! Birthdays, anniversaries, and important dates are always on his calendar!

R = Remember (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?)

when you said you loved him back 🥺 he’d be, for lack of a better term,,, apprehensive of your response? If you say you do in fact, love him? His heart leaps in his chest and he all but jumps for joy. He’s opening his heart to you, and he’d remember that moment forever.

S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?)

BIG MAYBE. He’s not overprotective-but if some guy or gal was getting up in your business, unwanted attention of course, he’d throw an arm around your shoulder and assert his relationship to you very clearly.

Him, on the other hand, will wave you off and say that he’s fine to handle himself in these situations, because he never wants to see you get hurt. But, by all means, glue yourself to his side and shoo the other person away. A sad Laf is a sad y/n.

T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

10,000%. See’s a daisy outside Washington’s HQ and brings it back home to you. Because it “reminded him of you”

U = Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?)

Leaves coffee mugs out until they stain the bottom with brown rings.

Hm. Also known to vacuum at odd hours.

OH and the only other thing he’s guilty of is sometimes forgetting to kiss you exactly every possible moment of the day.

V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)

He’s effortlessly extremely attractive. He’s about as concerned as a mouse.

W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)

THE PHATEST YES IN ALL THE UNIVERSE

X = Xtra (A random headcanon for them.)

Laf has a U.S. quarter collection. Don’t @ me.

Y = Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?)

He’s not a fan of a messy house. While he is so guilty of leaving small things about, he’d never scold you for leaving your keys on the floor because they just missed the hook. But he can’t live in a mess. His desk is always tidy and beaming with professionalism.

Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habits of theirs?)

Sleeps 8 hours a day! Snoozes with you are always a 10 on his scale. He’s always ready to fall into a nap with you, suffocating you into a hug to cuddle. Laf snores, just a bit. Not loud enough to wake you!

[tag list!: @shieldblacksailsonfrontier  @thefanficnerd  @simvez  @viper-official  @the-anxious-youth @boredthreatrekid ]

[reyescarlos]

#30 from the Prompt list for Tarlos! Please :3

yesss, thank you for sending in a request! hope you like it!

#30 “I love you, okay? I’ll say it as many times as you need to hear it.”

TK looks up at the sky, watching clouds drift lazily above him. This is truly a perfect day, his mind at ease in a way it always seems to be whenever he’s spending quality time with Carlos, the man who has had his heart for eleven months now. There may be other people around enjoying the warm weather too but everything outside the perimeter of the blanket they’re stretched out on now doesn’t affect him.

A Sunday picnic in the park is just one of the many simple pleasures in life that he’s been relishing in. The simplicity of being in Carlos’ company is a comfort, one that TK never takes for granted.

Carlos’ head is beside his own, his body facing the opposite direction. Carlos sighs heavily and TK turns his head to read his expression. The man looks pensive, brows furrowed slightly, his lips now pursed in thought as his gaze remains on the sky. TK lifts a hand and smooths one of Carlos’ brows with his index finger, coaxing him from his deep thoughts.

“Where’d you go?”

Carlos faces him then, a small smile on his lips though it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. TK lowers his hand but Carlos takes a hold of it and clutches it to his chest.

“I’m right here with you.”

TK can’t help but to smile at the gesture, especially at the quickening thump of Carlos’ heart as the man peers over at him. Nothing seems to ground them more than physical touch; holding hands, hugging, a gentle squeeze. These little instances never fail to bring them back to base.

“Can I ask you something?” Carlos says.

There’s a note of hesitancy in the question that makes TK sit upright. Carlos very rarely sounds unsure of himself and if the look on his face now is any indicator, he appears to be truly nervous about whatever it is he intends to ask.

“Of course you can. What’s on your mind?”

Carlos falters for a fraction of a second before pushing through.

“It’s sort of about your relationship with Alex.”

The name comes out with some disdain. TK does his best to mask his surprise though he doesn’t think he’s doing a very good job of it. Carlos never mentions his ex and TK certainly hasn’t had any interest in thinking about the man, let alone bringing him up either.

“Oh? Um, sure. What about it?”

Carlos sighs and sits up too, rubbing at the back of his neck.

“I’m just wondering if that experience has spoiled your views on the subject of marriage.”

TK’s eyes widen and he tries to say something but comes up short. Things have been going perfectly for them since they made their relationship official. This is without a doubt the healthiest and most stable relationship TK has ever been in. To have such a connection to someone, especially on the heels of his last relationship, TK has been pinching himself over his luck.

He and Carlos always talk about loving each other forever but now that TK thinks on it now, they’ve never explicitly talked about it in terms of marriage. It just felt like a given.

He’d love nothing more than to always have this, to be this beside himself with joy and gratitude. In Carlos he’s found true love, one that doesn’t leave him feeling drained and yet still somehow as if he’s not enough. It’s the complete opposite of life with Alex and all the failed relationships that came before.

TK hadn’t been expecting Carlos to have marriage on his mind at this moment and he’s so stunned that he can’t even say anything.

Carlos cringes a bit at his silence and TK could just kick himself for it. But before he can clarify what his silence means, Carlos keeps talking.

“I’m not saying we’re there yet, of course. I know we haven’t even been together for a full year. But I’d be lying if I said I couldn’t easily picture that kind of future with you. And if, hopefully when, the time comes for us to actually reach that stage...I don’t know. I’ve never loved someone this deeply before.

“I don’t know if it’s too soon to even be talking like this. Or if I’m bringing up things you’d rather forget. All I know is that I always want us to be on the same page because I want a happy ending with you, TK, whatever that may look like for us.”

Carlos stops then and shakes his head. “This went a lot smoother in my head,” he jokes nervously. “Sorry for being all over the place.”

TK smiles softly. “You’re doing just fine, babe.”

Seemingly reassured, Carlos pulls in a long breath and nods before continuing.

“He was important to you. You loved him enough to want to make the ultimate commitment. But since things didn’t pan out as you would have hoped,” he says, a polite understatement TK thinks, “I’m curious if you’ve written off the idea of one day marrying someone.”

TK takes notice of the word someone but doesn’t press it. He can already see how vulnerable Carlos feels now even mentioning any of this. He supposes it may just make it easier for Carlos to discuss, phrasing it this way.

“Honestly, no, he hasn’t ruined the concept for me. I’ll admit, when it first happened, I didn’t see a way out of that hopeless feeling. I didn’t think I’d ever be ready to date again. Then you came along and proved me wrong.”

Carlos smiles faintly at this, placing a hand on TK’s knee.

“I’m not ruling anything out. My life has taken turns I never saw coming, some surprises much better than others,” he says, bumping his knee softly against Carlos’ with a smile. “But through it all, all those highs and lows, I’ve grown and I’ve changed.”

“So, you could see it in the cards for us?”

TK touches a hand to Carlos’ face, stroking his cheek.

“I could. Anytime I think about our future, it looks so damn bright to me...all of this potential. You make me the happiest I’ve ever been.”

It’s the honest truth. Each morning he wakes up grateful to have Carlos and on those particular mornings he sees Carlos in the spot beside him, he has to wonder how he’s even the same person that suffered so greatly in New York to be thriving so well in Austin.

“No has ever mattered to me this much. I know we’re in a good place with each other,” Carlos says. “ I don’t ever want to lose you or this feeling. And I know that’s a lot of pressure to put on someone, I know. I just had to put that out there.”

TK frowns. “You don’t ever have to worry about that sort of thing with me. I love you, okay? I’ll say it as many times as you need to hear it. I’ll invent a whole new language just to find another way to tell you how in love with you I am, if that’s what it takes for the message to sink in,” he muses. “I don’t think I really knew what love could actually feel like until this.”

“Even with…,” Carlos trails off but TK can fill in the blanks easily.

“I’ve been realizing that what I had with him wasn’t actually love. Not in its truest form like what I have here with you, anyway. It took my life blowing up to find something real.”

TK looks off for a moment, collecting his thoughts.

“Proposing to him was a last-ditch effort to save a relationship that was so broken. I just couldn’t see it at the time...I didn’t want to, more like it. Things had been off between us for a while and I got this idea going that we just needed to be closer to fix it. I was holding on to something that I should have let go of. Loving him almost cost me everything.”

“It’s a scary thought, imagining what it’d be like if we never met. The love of my life was up in New York that whole time,” Carlos says softly. “It’s scary to think what we could have missed out on. More importantly that the world could have lost you.”

Carlos lets out a shaky breath. “I’m really glad you survived all of that. You’re the strongest person I know and I’m really, really proud of you, TK.”

TK feels his eyes stinging at the sentiment and he blinks back his tears. This isn’t something they talk about often, never mind so openly. But TK is glad for it now. As much as he hates the difficult parts of his past, it’s still a component of his present, something he’ll have to be mindful of his whole life.

But with the support of his loved ones and this man who has become his entire world, he feels confident about his successes on the road ahead.

Carlos looks down, picking at blades of grass at the blanket’s edge.

“I hate even the idea of you ever hurting but it brought you down here to me. Maybe that makes me a bad person, I don’t know. It’s selfish and so wrong to be glad that you got uprooted. I hate the circumstances but I’m glad for the result.”

TK smiles, taking Carlos’ face in his hands. He stares at him for a moment, watching the way the sunlight brings out the honey tones in his brown eyes. It’s enough to make TK melt.

His last few days in New York had been some of the harrowing and challenging days he’d ever faced. Happiness was such an abstract concept, something he didn’t think he’d ever be able to experience again. It made the unexpectedness of finding Carlos just that much more special.

“It’s not selfish and you, Carlos Reyes, are a remarkable person. I’ve never met anyone with a heart like yours. I’m glad for the second chance I got.”

He rests his forehead against Carlos’, kissing the tip of his nose, a hand cradling the nape of his neck.

“Any road that led here would have been worth it. It took a few tries but I know I’ve got it right this time. I want it all with you, Carlos. No doubts about it.”

[niksixx]

Plus One

Welcome to part 5 of Plus One. We are approaching the end of this mini fic, but do not worry my loves. We still have a few parts left. I hope you enjoy part 5, and please remember to leave comments, reblog, and add tags. It motivates me to continue writing for you all. 💜

Note: Just a reminder, though this fic may seem fast, it takes place over the course of a few months!! 

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

*Pia’s POV*

Eight bright, colorful beanbags are scattered around the floor in a private room at the back end of the library. It’s quiet, far away from small children who squeal excitedly when they spot their favorite comic book and a good distance away from the college students who gather at the old wooden tables to recite chemistry flashcards in one big study group.

Black coffee and burnt wood is the signature smell of the book club room. Only a few windows are open, allowing just a bit of sunshine and breeze to fill the room. The aura is comforting.

“Okay, everyone,” I say, setting the book in my lap. I believe The Catcher in the Rye is a classic, but various opinions, both positive and negative, have been directed toward the book over the years. Romance is the genre I’ve always been drawn to, fiction or nonfiction, but I can certainly appreciate a coming-of-age novel. “How did we feel about the story?”

Margaret, an elderly woman with curly gray hair and silver glasses, raises her hand timidly. It’s the first time she has volunteered to speak since the start of our club. I give her an encouraging smile, nodding. “I enjoyed it very much, though it was slow at times.”

A small contribution, but a contribution nonetheless. “Thank you Margaret. Would anyone else like to share?”

Shayne, a third-year college student, wiggles his fingers and clears his throat. “I would.” He snaps the book shut with one hand. “The book itself is enjoyable. There’s a lot of important themes that are entwined in the storyline. But Holden, and let me be clear, I feel terrible for saying this about a sixteen-year-old, was insufferable.”

“I thought I was the only one who thought so!” Stacy chirps from her beanbag. The thirty-year old mother of two crosses her ankles, drumming her fingers on the spine of her novel. “I was under the impression that Holden believed he was better than everyone else. His personality alone was enough to make me despise the book and it’s a shame. I wanted to love it.”

“That’s an interesting point, Stacy.” Setting my book on the ground, I adjust my legs deeper into the beanbag while the rest of the book club eagerly sits forward, awaiting my response. “And this is why I love reading so much. Whether the story is true or not, we know Holden Caulfield is not a real person, though there have been assumptions that J.D. Salinger modeled Holden after himself. Stacy, you said that Holden’s personality gave you enough reason to not enjoy the book. We certainly have to appreciate Salinger’s talent as an author. He was able to create a character that made you feel such strong emotions.” The club nods in agreement before I continue. “Now Shayne, you mentioned themes. Explain a bit more for me.”

“Gladly,” he answers eagerly. “Innocence. It’s the main theme. Holden, for lack of a better term, is obsessed with the preservation of childhood innocence. I do think that’s admirable, and while he was intolerable in my opinion, I can understand his desire to conserve one’s purity.”

“I assume there’s going to be a but in your next statement,” Charlie pipes up with a chuckle. The forty-seven year old retired firefighter wears a kind smile on his face.

“But,” Shayne smirks and holds up a finger. “Holden is one big contradiction, and here’s why. We know how much Holden hated the adult world and it’s “phoniness”. It’s the whole reason he wanted to preserve innocence wherever he could. Holden himself was a phony, a fake. He condemns adulthood but is seemingly unaware of his own phoniness. I now hate this word, by the way.”

A collective chuckle sounds in the room. I shake my head but can’t help the growing smile. The book club has been the highlight of my week so far.

“Anyway,” Shayne continues. “He’s deceptive and a compulsive liar. Holden is the epitome of what he hates.”

“That is a fantastic observation, Shayne, and thank you for sharing.” He bows dramatically before slinking back deeper into the beanbag. “Before we conclude our meeting and I introduce our new book, I have a question. Does anyone know why Holden’s name is symbolic to the story?”

I can see the wheels turning in their brains, and for a moment I think I’ve stumped them. Charlie looks like he wants to answer, but nothing comes out of his mouth. I take the chance to speak up. “First, does anyone know what a caul is?”

Stacy’s hand shoots up in the air. “I think I learned about this in one of my birthing classes but forgive me if I’m wrong. But isn’t the caul a part of the amnion that protects an unborn baby? Near the head, right?”

I snap my finger and point to Stacy excitedly. “Yes! And what does the name Holden sound like?”

“Holden...hold...en...hold...hold on?” Charlie asks skeptically.

“Exactly right,” I grin proudly. “Put it all together.”

“Oh my gosh,” Margaret says softly. Everyone turns toward the older woman. “In the book there was mention of Holden imagining children frolicking in a rye field. I just realized it now. He’s the catcher in the rye field, protecting the children. Holden Caulfield. Hold on to childhood innocence.”

I grin wildly, clapping along with the rest of the book club members. “Incredible, Margaret. You’re exactly right.”

“So, what’s our next book?” Shayne asks, hands tapping his thighs. “I’m feeling a mystery book.”

“Or Sci-Fi,” Charlie answers.

“Oooo, Sci-Fi,” Shayne murmurs excitedly.

“Neither,” I say, giggling at their frowns. From my purse, I pull out a purple paperback book and show it to the group. “Historical fiction mixed with romance. Our next book is The Madness of Lord Ian Mackenzie. I’ve never heard of it, so I’m sure you haven’t either. It’s about the same length as The Catcher in the Rye, maybe only a few pages more. Let’s all try to read the first five chapters and we’ll meet again next week.”

Stacy, Charlie, and Margaret bid farewell. Shayne stays back with me, shooting me a smirk as I gather my belongings. “Another romance novel, huh? Something you’d like to share with the class? Maybe his name?”

A slow smile spreads across my lips. I sling my purse over my shoulder, clamping a hand down on Shayne’s. “He’s a dream, Shayne. I’ve known him forever, but it’s finally official,” Two months ago, I used to cringe on the word official when it wasn’t. It still isn’t, but something between us feels different, feels real. The more I’m with him, the more I don’t want to pretend.

Shayne slings an arm around my shoulder, leading me out of the room. He’s had his fair share of relationship issues as well, but at twenty-one, he’s still young. “I’m glad one of us isn’t having boy trouble. Philip called me the other day, said he wants to get back together.”

“Are you going to?”

Shayne makes a face, opening the front door of the library. He scoots aside, letting me walk first. “Hell no, Sweets. He was a terrible boyfriend,” Shayne considers for a moment. “At least the sex was good. You think he’d settle for friends with benefits?”

I laugh heartily, pushing Shayne’s shoulder. “That’s a recipe for disaster, my friend. You want my advice? Spend some time on yourself. Find out what you really want in life.”

I head off to my car, Shayne walking the opposite way to his. Before I can slide into the seat, Shayne calls out to me. “Is he the one?”

I don’t have to think about it. It comes out naturally. “Without a doubt.”

~~~

Janielle has outdone herself, but I never expected anything less. Desserts are on every counter in her kitchen, from cupcakes to brownies and pastries. Outside on the back deck, a long white table is filled from end to end with finger foods and appetizers. With a beer in his hand, Dominic flips burgers expertly at the grill, shooting his wife a goofy grin when she utters a stern ‘be careful’. The rest of the adults gather on the patio, laughing and drinking, while the kids swim excitedly in the pool.

It’s the hottest day in August so far, and I can’t tell if my cheeks are red from the heat or from my constant ogling of Nikki’s shirtless chest. I watch from the deck as Nikki, Vince, and Amanda clink their bottles together and down their drinks. Nikki wins, throwing his hands up in the air dramatically, before turning his head to shoot me a wink. I laugh and shake my head, holding up my glass of wine that is still half full.

“So, you and Sixx,” My laughter is cut off by Dom, whose eyes twinkle with the same amusement present in his voice. “How about that?”

My stomach flips just at the mention of Nikki. “Going on almost four months,” I answer proudly, swirling the wine in my glass. “We’ve got nothing on you and Janielle, though.”

Dom smirks, carefully plating more burgers. I take the plate from him, and he nods in thanks. “Hey, not everyone knows who they’re going to marry at sixteen years old.”

This time, my heart beats faster just at the brief mention of marriage. I try not to let myself think of a long-term commitment with Nikki just yet. To everyone else, we’ve been official for a few months. But to myself and Nikki, we’re just two best friends playing a role.

“It’s too early to talk about marriage just yet,” I reply with a soft grin.

“But it’s a possibility in the future, yes?” Dom asks, stacking the last few burgers on the plate.

All I can answer with is a subtle nod just before I feel an arm snake around my waist. I crane my neck to glance up at Nikki just as his lips press a kiss to my jaw. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Dom’s lazy smile and it puts me at ease knowing that Nikki and I have done our job at convincing everyone that what’s between us is true.

“Hi gorgeous,” Nikki greets breathily. “You doing okay?”

“Never better,” I answer truthfully, leaning back into his chest. I hand off the plate of burgers to Dom before directing my attention back to Nikki. “Are you?”

Nikki nods, arm tightening around my waist. “I’m perfect.” He holds up three empty beer bottles. “Come with me?”

I nod and take his hand, letting him lead me into the kitchen. While Nikki rummages through Janielle’s fridge for more beer, I steal a cannoli from the dessert tray, biting into the sweet cream.

“I’m having so much fun with you,” I blurt out honestly, licking the cream from my lips.

For a brief second, something flashes across Nikki’s face, almost as if my statement mimicked a bitter taste in his mouth. It’s gone just as fast as it came, replaced by an easy smile. “I am too, P.”

I bite my lip as Nikki opens the three bottles, eyes lingering on his tattooed arms. He catches me, smirking. “Pretty girl, you’re not exactly trying to hide it, you know.”

I blush, looking away like I always do when a compliment from Nikki is directed my way. And because I look away, I miss Nikki freeze in alarm, eyes wide, studying me.

When I turn back around, I notice his lips are in a thin line, jaw clenched ever so slightly. “P, I think we need to talk about something.”

His voice is serious, more serious than it’s ever been, and momentarily I fear the worst. Nikki’s fingers fidget nervously, and I can tell whatever is on his mind has been there for quite some time. “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, yeah,” It’s not a convincing answer, but I don’t say anything as he continues. “It’s more of a question, actually.” His hands fall at his side as he steps forward, exhaling a strangled breath. “Are we...what we’re doing…” His voice goes low. “We’re still pretending, right?”

There’s a lump forming in my throat, and I try my best to speak around it without giving off the impression that I’m either extremely hopeful he wants to make this real, or going to start crying because he wants to call everything off. “Yeah. Unless…unless you don’t want to pretend--.”

“No, no,” He says all too quickly, hands skimming my arms. “I like pretending. Pretending is good, safe. I just...wanted to make sure we’re still on the same page.” He grabs my hands, pressing a gentle kiss to each, before grabbing the bottles from the counter.

And as he leaves Janielle’s kitchen with a smile, I’m left standing alone and more confused than I’ve ever been.

[btsqualityy]

Scripted: Part 7

Namjoon x Reader; Jimin x Reader

Genre: Angst, fluff, President!Namjoon, Head of Security!Jimin

Warnings: (Reluctant) open relationship, cheating

A few weeks later, Namjoon’s comment was still ringing just as fresh in your mind as it was when he’d said it to you before storming out of your bedroom. “I’ll always care about you Y/N-ah. But respect is a two-way street, and you stopped respecting me a long time ago”. 

It was obvious that whatever had spurred him to say that was eating at him, because he hadn’t so much as spared you a single glance ever since that day. As much as you wanted to talk to him and try to get down to the bottom of it though, you never seemed to be able to catch him alone long enough to really grill him about it. One of the things about being married to the President of a country is that he’d be able to avoid you for days without suspicion from others, which is exactly what he’d been doing.

You just didn’t get it though. All of this seemingly stemmed from the conversation about you not wanting to have a baby with him but you knew your husband, and you knew that there had to be more to the story than what he was really telling you. You loved Namjoon but there was one thing about him that had always annoyed you, and that was his ability to act aloof whenever he wanted to avoid talking about his true feelings. You thought that the two of you had worked through that in the early days of your relationship, but the same could be said for a lot of the other aspects in your relationship as well.

“Y/N?” Jimin called your name and you seemingly snapped back to reality, looking over at him with your eyes blown wide in surprise. “Did you hear me?”

“Oh, I’m sorry Jimin,” you sighed, shaking your head lightly. “Can you say it again?”

“I said, do you think these place settings scream ‘please give us your money’?” He repeated, holding up the book of place settings that the two of you had been looking through. The two of you were doing more planning for the children’s benefit, and you and Jimin were on your own today as Momo had other commitments.

“Yeah, they do,” you laughed and Jimin nodded as he set the book back down on the table in front of you. 

“Are you alright?” Jimin wondered. “You’ve been really quiet all day.”

“I’m fine, I just...have a lot on my mind I guess,” you shrugged.

“You could always talk to me if you wanted,” Jimin offered. “I may not be able to give you any great advice or anything, but it might help to verbalize your thoughts.”

“I wouldn’t want to seem like I’m complaining though.”

“Y/N, you’re human. All humans do is complain, it’s in our nature,” Jimin joked, making you laugh.

“Alright, alright,” you relented. “Namjoon and I got into a....well it really wasn’t an argument or anything like that but he said something that I haven’t been able to get off of my mind.”

“Do you feel comfortable telling me what it was that he said?” Jimin asked. 

“I don’t think it’d really help if you knew, because I don’t even know what he meant by it,” you admitted. “Whatever it was though, I know he’s really upset.”

“Ah ok. Well, maybe you should just give him time,” Jimin shrugged. “Maybe he just needs time to think through things.”

“Maybe but I’m not sure,” you groaned. “I’m so sick of not knowing what’s going on in my own marriage.”

“Have you tried talking to him about it then? He won’t know how you feel if you don’t talk to him.”

“Namjoon and I haven’t spoken to each other honestly, at the same time, in a year,” you disclosed. “And plus, he’s so angry right now that I doubt he’d even hear me out.”

“Well, I’m sorry that I can’t really give you any advice,” Jimin apologized. “I’ve never been married and the one long-term relationship I’ve had fell apart.”

“No, that’s ok,” you smiled lightly. “It’s kind of nice to have someone just listen, because when I talk to Momo about these things, she always gives her two cents.”

“Very on brand for her,” Jimin laughed. 

“I hope I didn’t make things weird for you,” you added. “I know you’re Head of Security for the both of us and it might be odd to have me complaining about our relationship to you.”

“Ok first off, you’re not complaining if I volunteered to listen,” Jimin pointed out. “And second, I can separate the job from my friendships.”

“Oh, so we’re friends now?” You teased him and Jimin became visibly flustered.

“I-I mean,...I was j-just,-”

“Jimin, I’m kidding,” you giggled, and he visibly relaxed again. “I do consider you to be my friend.”

“I consider you to be my friend too,” he nodded with a smile.

“I mean, I’ve vented to you about my emotional baggage so you really have no choice anyways,” you pointed out, making Jimin laugh loudly. 

“Hey, do you have anything else to do today?” Jimin asked suddenly and you shook your head.

“No, this was all I had planned today,” you said as you pointed at the books of place settings and silverware options that sat in front of you. 

“Since I couldn’t give you any real advice, why don’t you let me take you somewhere to get your mind off things?”

“Take me somewhere?” You questioned, raising an eyebrow. “What do you have in mind?”

“Just trust me,” Jimin told you. “By the way, how do you feel about homemade skin care products?”

..........................

“Ok, I had no idea that Hope Market was this popular,” you giggled as Jimin led you through the overcrowded farmer’s market. You made sure to keep your head down in order to make sure that you weren’t seen, even though you had traded your usual dresses and heels for a t-shirt, jeans, sneakers, and a bucket hat. 

“It’s usually not like this when I come, but that’s also usually during the week,” Jimin replied. The two of you continued to walk until Jimin stopped in front of a booth, and you couldn’t help but to notice how the old woman who was standing behind the stall lit up at the sight of Jimin.

“Jiminie!” She exclaimed, quickly hobbling from behind the booth and throwing her arms around him in a hug.

“Hi Jung-hee-ssi,” Jimin responded, taking a step back from her once she had released him from the hug in order to properly bow to her. “I brought a friend to sample your skin care items.”

“Hello,” you smiled, bowing to her and she nodded towards you. 

“Hi, I’m Kim Jung-hee,” she told you.

“I’m Kim Y/N,” you said and she nodded once again before moving to step back around her stall. You looked over at Jimin in confusion since Jung-hee hadn’t made any mention of your name, and Jimin chuckled at your expression. 

“She’s 67 and she doesn’t own a television,” he revealed and you nodded in understanding. 

“Yah, you two get over here!” Jung-hee called out as she bent over to dig into one of the many crates that she had and Jimin set his hand on the small of your back to push you forward a little. “You’re just in time Jiminie, you and your little friend!”

“What did you make this week?” Jimin wondered as he moved to stand next to you.

“Lip scrubs! And with a new recipe too!” She announced as she stood up straight again and walked over to the two of you, multiple bottles of lip scrubs in her hands. “You’re not allergic to honey or almonds, are you sweetie?”

“No, I’m not,” you told her and she smiled before handing you a small bottle. 

“That one is my homemade sugar lip scrub,” she said and she motioned for you to open the bottle, which you did. “It has sugar which helps exfoliate, almond oil to help moisturize, and honey for smell. Try it.”

“It smells amazing,” you complimented as you dipped your finger into the scrub before proceeding to rub it onto your lips. 

“And I see that you haven’t been following the routine that I gave you!” Jung-hee scolded Jimin as she reached up and grabbed ahold of his chin, looking over his face. 

“I’ve been working!” He shot back, reaching up and pulling her hand away from his face. “I work 12 hour days, I don’t have time for a 12-step skincare routine.”

“You’re gonna end up wishing you had made time when you’re my age with bags so big, you can store kimchi in them,” she muttered, making you snort as you tried not to laugh out loud. Jung-hee then reached around and grabbed a small big that was full of wet wipes, and she pulled one out before holding it out to you. 

“Thank you,” you smiled, using the wipe to get the residue from the sugar scrub off your lips.

“How does it feel?” Jung-hee wondered and you paused for a second to run the tip of your finger over your lips, a soft gasp escaping you.

“They’re so soft,” you marveled and Jung-hee smiled proudly. 

“That almond oil will work wonders,” she stated. She then turned around again, taking a few seconds to rummage around in another crate before she stood up straight again. “Here, you can try this hand lotion I’ve made while I pack up a few lip scrubs for you to take home.”

“You don’t have to do that,” you tried to say but Jung-hee just waved her hand at you.

“It’s not a problem. Jiminie, here,” she said, setting a small tube into Jimin’s open hand. “You rub that onto her skin the same way I do for you while I pack this up.”

“Yes Jung-hee-ssi,” Jimin nodded obediently and Jung-hee took the bottle of lip scrub out of your hands before walking off to the other side of her stall.

“She’s a firecracker,” you whispered quietly to Jimin and he snorted a laugh as he took the top off of the tube in his hands and poured some into his palm.

“Tell me about it,” he chuckled. “I’ve known her since I was little. Her and my grandmother used to be best friends before my grandmother passed.”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” you apologized and Jimin just smiled at you as he rubbed his hands together.

“Thanks,” he said as he grabbed your hand and began to apply the lotion to your skin. “I still come and check on her every week to make sure that she’s doing ok.”

“And to get skincare tips,” you added and Jimin laughed before nodding. 

“And to get skincare tips,” he agreed. He continued to rub your hand and you realized that the lotion had long since been rubbed into your skin and that he was now giving you a....massage, almost.

“It’s nice of you to come and check on her though,” you mumbled quietly, not able to tear your gaze away from where Jimin was touching you. 

“Well she doesn’t have any children of her own and her husband’s sick, so I feel like it’s the least I could do,” he smiled, working his way down from your fingers to your wrist, rubbing softly at your pulse point. Your breathing hitched audibly and Jimin looked up at you with a small smirk.

“Feels good, huh? Jung-hee always does this to my hands too when I come, and it’s the most relaxing thing ever,” he told you and you nodded numbly, because relaxing you wasn’t the only thing that it was doing it to you. 

“Alright you two, here you are!” Jung-hee exclaimed as she walked back over to the two of you, two paper bags in her hands. “I put some lip scrubs, the hand cream, some general exfoliates, and some face masks in each one.”

“Thank you so much,” you said as you bowed to her before taking the bag out of her hand while Jimin did the same. “How much do I owe you?”

“Oh, free of charge sweetie,” she said dismissively. 

“Are you sure?”

“Absolutely,” she stated firmly. “Any friend of Jiminie’s is a friend of mines.”

“Well, thank you,” you smiled. 

“I’ll be back to check on you next week, alright?” Jimin said as he leaned over and pressed a kiss to Jung-hee’s cheek. 

“Alright, and follow your skincare routine!” She shouted at him, making him nod immediately. 

“It was nice meeting you!” You said as you waved.

“Likewise sweetie,” Jung-hee replied with a grin and you let Jimin lead you away from her booth and back into the busyness of Hope Market. 

“What now?” You wondered as you looked over at Jimin. 

“I know a small ice cream shop not too far from here,” Jimin replied. “Wanna go get a cone?”

“God, yes.”

..........................

“You’re disgusting.”

“Respect my choices!”

“I can respect a choice, but this is just ridiculous,” Jimin muttered in disgust as he looked over at you as you licked your ice cream cone. “I mean, mint chocolate Y/N? Really?”

“It’s good,” you shrugged. 

“It’s toothpaste in ice cream,” Jimin deadpanned.

“You just have no taste.”

“That makes two of us,” he whispered and you reached over to smack his arm, making him wince dramatically. “You almost made me drop mines!”

“Good, it’ll be your karma for judging me!” You shot back. Jimin just chuckled at you, sitting back against the bench as the two of you continued to eat your individual cones in a comfortable silence.

“Thanks Jimin,” you spoke up suddenly, and Jimin looked over at you with a raised brow. 

“For what?”

“For helping me get my mind off of everything,” you told him. “It’s nice to just hang out as me, and not as ‘First Lady Kim’, you know?”

“I can imagine,” he nodded. “And no need to thank me. It looked like everything was really weighing on you.”

“It was,” you confirmed as you took another lick of your ice cream. A few seconds of silence passed before you felt a hand on your knee, and you looked over to see Jimin staring intently at you.

“I wish I could help you more,” he murmured.

“Y-you do,” you assured him softly as he moved closer to you so that your thigh was touching his. “A lot, actually.”

“You deserve better,” he stated firmly and you nodded.

“Yeah,” you breathed out. Before you could even realize what was happening, Jimin was pressing his lips to yours and you found yourself not even hesitating to kiss him back. The kiss was soft and gentle, yet firm at the same time. Jimin didn’t try to pull you closer or push you further, he just....kissed you. As if he knew that it was what you needed. 

Once Jimin pulled his lips away from yours, you slowly opened your eyes and found him smiling softly at you.

“Ok?” He asked and you nodded slowly.

“Ok,” you agreed before sitting back against the bench. Jimin did the same and the two of you continued to eat your ice cream, now trying to hide the blushes that were rising to both your and his cheeks. 

..........................

It wasn’t until you and Jimin had gotten back into his car to head back to the Blue House that you started to overthink and panic. Yes, you were in an open marriage and could technically kiss Jimin without any guilt but he was the Head of your fucking Security detail, for God’s sake. Of all the men in the world, why’d it have to be him?

On the other hand though, you were happy that it was Jimin. He’s been the sweetest guy ever and as you thought about it, you had an inherent sense of trust in him and it wasn’t just because he was your Head of Security. It was because he had shown himself to be trustworthy, which is something you’d been lacking in your marriage.

These thoughts swirling through your mind is why the entire car ride had ended up being completely silent, and Jimin didn’t try to speak up until he had walked you up the front steps of the Blue House and the two of you were standing in front of the door. 

“Are you alright Y/N-ah?” He asked you and you gave him a smile, because you truly were alright and because you noticed how he didn’t just call you ‘Y/N’. 

“Yeah, more than alright,” you told him and a small smile came across his face. “Thank you again, for today.”

“I told you, I always want to help you,” he reminded you. He reached down and grabbed hold of your hand, the same hand that he had massaged earlier, and brought it up to his lips to press a soft kiss to it. “I’ll see you later, yeah?”

“Yeah,” you nodded with a smile as Jimin released your hand. He turned around and made his way back down the steps as you turned around and pushed open the front door, stepping inside and shutting it behind you. After kicking off your sneakers, you began to make your way to your and Namjoon’s private living quarters when you heard what sounded like something hitting the wall.

“What the hell is that sound?” You mumbled to yourself, walking further down the hallway to you and Namjoon’s bedroom. When you got there, your bedroom door was slightly ajar and when you peaked inside, it felt like every ounce of breath got knocked out of your body.

Namjoon was in your bed, clearly fucking some girl missionary style. The girl was moaning loudly, and you almost swore that you’d heard it somewhere before. After watching for a few seconds, the anger you were feeling bubbled over and you burst forcefully into the room, causing the door to hit the hall and Namjoon and his whore to yell/shriek in surprise.

“Are you fucking serious?!” You hollered and Namjoon looked over his shoulder, his eyes widening when he saw your face.

“Y/N, wait,” he apologized, wrapping the duvet around the lower half of his body as he moved from on top of the girl. “This isn’t what it looks like.”

“Oh yeah?” You laughed sarcastically. “Because it looks like you’re fucking some whore in our bed!”

“I’m not a whore,” the girl spoke up and your eyes widened as you recognized the voice. You moved further into the room and you felt your heart break into two when you realized exactly who Namjoon had been fucking. 

“Hello Y/N-ah,” Ahn Hyejin smirked and you shook your head as the overwhelming sense of deja-vu almost became too much for you to handle. “Missed me?”

..........................

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