#''do you really think any of your friends care about you more than me? more than your own mother?'' 😳🤐🤐🤐

[yoitsjay]

batboys and brat taming reader who is their best friend(whom they treat like a sugar baby) 👀

The wording confused me a little bit but I think I got it-

I'll take care of you.

Summary: your a brat, a best friend, and a pampered little whore. What else could you want?

Warnings: alluding to smut but none written, spoiling you rotten

Bruce Wayne:

You had known ol’ Brucie a long time. You liked to think of your friendship with him as quite stereotypical. A rich kid who befriends the poor, lowlife kid of a criminal who somehow managed to go to Gotham Academy.

Ever since you were children Bruce always took care of you, he supported you in whatever career path you chose, and when things didn't work out, you could always fall back on him and he would deal with it all. He'd offer multiple times for you to come live at the manor with him but you refused every time. (the bratty part of you just wanted to rile him up and see when he'd snap)

As you two got older, your friendship never wavered, in fact it only got stronger… and that's when the benefits really attached itself to the friends label. Bruce began refusing no for an answer, especially after a really rough run in with one of your abusive exes. He dragged your ass to the manor and set you up with a room, he started paying off any debts you owed, and he got you anything and everything you could ever want.

Yet you were still a brat… he could handle it though, because in the end he knew that your loyalty was his, and he would never betray that trust. He never wanted to lose you.

Dick Grayson:

Whether you were a family friend, or some stranger he saved / met on the street, you and Dick had become really close friends in such a short amount of time. You were both bratty in a way, and each had your fair share of breakups that you could complain about to each other.

You and Dick had a routine where you'd get together after each breakup, either at his house or at yours. You would show up with ice cream, snacks and other things.

and by the end of the night he'd have his cock shoved up your cunt, or your mouth and you both let out your frustrations.

Dick also spoiled the shit out of you. He paid your bills, and was more than happy to do so, he also bought you whatever you wanted, similar to Bruce, and you didn't even have to ask for half the things that he gifted you.

You didnt concider yourself a sugar baby, not until your friends were gossiping about Dick, and told you that he either wanted you to be his girlfriend, or he wanted to keep fucking you, so he spoiled you to gain favor.

either way you shrugged. “And in the end my bills are paid, i have no debt, and i'm happy and have an awesome friend. Sugar baby, girlfriend, I'm taken care of either way.” You told them, and they just laughed and carried on.

In terms of brattiness, he's the brat, always whining, clawing at you for attention, you gotta put that boy on a leash just to get a break, though you found a way to get him to do what you want…

just a spread of the legs.

Jason Todd:

He has no time for brats, he's a busy man, and he could easily have anyone else to have fun with, but he wanted you, wanted to hang out with you. You were Jason’s friend for who knows how long, so he learned how to deal with your attitude long ago.

Food, most of the time, more often than not, something shoved in your mouth… like his fingers… or his cock.

Just something to suck on, that's all you needed to be satisfied.

Though, he always goes out of his way to make you feel good too, maybe he doesn't spoil you with material items, i feel like Jason is a bit more sentimental, so instead he takes you out to nice restaurants, amusement parks, rage rooms lazer tag- anything and anywhere as long as he gets to spend time with you.

He has no need for a girlfriend either, because he has you, his best friend that he gets to fuck- whats better than that.

Tim Drake:

You're his assistant at Wayne Enterprises, you had been working under him for the past couple of years, since you were about 16 and started your internship there. You both went to the Academy too, so it was easy for you and Tim to fall into a routine together. He'd come to your place and pick you up every morning, you'd get coffee then go to school on the weekdays, then when you worked on the weekends he would come pick you up again, and instead you'd go to work.

You were and are the best damn assistant he's ever had, you had a fiery spirit and didn't let anyone talk down to you, you made people see you as an equal, always. Even Bruce appreciated the way you stood up for yourself and those around you.

You were also attentive to all of Tim’s needs. Yeah that's what an assistant did, but you did way more. And because of the things you did, he would give you constant pay raises, or bonuses for your hard work… Then he started picking up little nick nacks that he knew you liked, he started paying attention to your coffee order, and he'd go buy you coffee.

Best part was, you didn't even notice that he was spoiling you, but your coworkers sure did, and they started the gossip train about you being Tim’s sugar baby.

When it finally reached yours and Tim’s ears, you kind of gave each other a look from across the office.

And then you fell into another rhythm… every day at 2 o’clock during his facetime meeting, you'd be under his desk…

if you could make him break, he’d give you his black card.

This was an arrangement you could get behind.

Damian Wayne:

For some reason you caught his eye. Don't worry, it baffled him too. He didn't understand why he found you so exhilarating.

He hated it.

He talked to you, but he'd degrade you,make fun of you, every chance he got, but he'd always use it as an excuse to get close to you.

When it was time for the senior dance, he found out that you had a few guys asking for you to be their date.

He didn't like that.

One day in the hallway, he walked up to you and he practically shoved you into the lockers. “your going to be my date to senior prom.” He demanded.

You stared at him, an unimpressed look across your face. He stammered. “I- i mean…will- will you go to senior prom with me?” he corrected his sentence-

corrected his sentence! what have you done to him?? This cold, bratty batboy, the richest kid in gotham- and he was groveling at your feet from just one look on your face.

You've reduced him to- to… a simp.

Blasphemy.

Tag list:

All: @francesfarhadi @only-my-unexistent-fiances

Batfam:

BW: @ilaiise

DG: @ilaiise

JT: @ilaiise

TD: @ilaiise

DW: @ilaiise

[olderthannetfic]

I'm so glad that nobody in my native language pulls the "write for yourself! don't want comments, feedback, hits, bookmarks, or interaction!" thing. In English language fandoms it's apparently a big character flaw or a sign of immaturity to want someone to read what you wrote. Meanwhile in my fandoms we're all completely honest about the fact that... yeah. If you post it, you would like someone to read it. Otherwise, you wouldn't post it in the first place. And there's never this competition to be the least interested in what other people think that USAmericans feel the need to do. Irony poisoning isn't much of a problem in our country so you can outright say, "It makes me happy when someone comments." You're allowed to be proud of your work and think it's worthy of being looked at.

Idk, I'm sure it's cultural. Pride is a sin in Christianity and the US is very Christian. But it sounds rough. I don't think I'd enjoy having to constantly tell people how much I don't care what others think and how I don't care if anyone reads my work. It sounds so insincere to me. I doubt it's much fun to constantly have to act unenthused in order to seem cool. And it's definitely an act. People who actually believe something don't have to chant it like a mantra at every opportunity.

A part of me is honestly really sad for people who get this angry backlash whenever they want interaction with their works. Fandom may not be a social hobby in the US. It's more mainstream, so it's not the same as it is here. But I love gushing about comments. I love replying to comments. I smile when I see something of mine that I worked hard on has been thoroughly bookmarked and loved. My friends feel the same. We gush at each other about comments and responses. We don't have to act indifferent and uninterested and go, "I don't care if I get comments, I write for myself" at others so they know we're indifferent and uninterested and write for the 'right' reason. I feel sorry for writers in the US. Imagine being sad no one likes what you've made and the response is that not only are your feelings wrong, your very intentions as the writer must secretly have been to seek validation and praise and fame, otherwise you wouldn't admit to liking comments.

Whenever I see a post going "I write for myself but I wish people commented" it kind of reminds me of US cosplayers. They slather their pictures over every social media platform on Earth. They clearly would like recognition for their work. But they have to start any complaints with the disclaimer, "I cosplay because I love the character, but-" so everyone knows their intentions are pure and so are their actions. There's a level of nervousness, of 'what will people think that I think if I don't use a disclaimer?' that looks miserable to live with.

--

You know, I'm getting awfully tired of you puling infants repeatedly misinterpreting "write for yourself".

As I said here quite recently, it's standard writing advice from outside of fandom. It means that you should make aesthetic decisions based on what you like rather than on a hypothetical audience.

The observation underlying this stock advice is that writers who write what they themselves think is good produce art that is more likely to hook an audience. Writers who are chasing after some audience whose taste they don't even share usually produce limp, uninspiring work.

Yes, there are some wackadoos who are like "I have no feelings! Community is a lie!" and think that makes them sound grown up. This isn't an American problem but an edgy (wish-they-still-were-a) teenager problem.

I dislike stats-chasing nonsense because it's a hallmark of the people who want to turn fandom into influencer garbage. I suggest people obsess less over stats because caring too much about the numbers tends to make people sad when they look at some juggernaut ship from the first peak in some fandom and then have unrealistic expectations. But finding community through fandom and liking to know other people enjoyed your work is commonplace everywhere.

[oliversrarebooks]

The Rare Bookseller Part 79: Oliver's Questions

tw: mind control

Previous > Masterlist

October 1925

A knock on the door startled him out of his thoughts. "Oliver? May I come in?" It sounded like Emily.

"Sure," he said, not especially in the mood for talking, but wanting to be out of his own head for a moment.

He heard the click of the door unlocking, and Emily pocketed the key as she walked into the room. "Vivian thought maybe it'd be a good idea for me to check on you. How are you doing?"

"I'm managing."

"Have you heard your master -- your former master's voice?"

"No. But I will tell you if I do." The least he could do for Emily and Vivian was to try to resist and let them know right away. Purposefully betraying them after they'd gone through this effort to save him was unthinkable.

"I think I might understand a little about how you feel, you know. Defending Alexander even though he's a monster."

"You do?"

"I mean, Jessica was awful through and through. She robbed me of everything and treated me like a housecat. I'm glad that she's dead. But still, sometimes… I think a part of me misses the certainty." She curled in on herself a bit. "I don't know what I'm going to do now that I'm freed. It's back to nasty jobs that pay peanuts, while trying to find time and energy to make art good enough to sell, I suppose. Struggling every day. I guess it was nice not to struggle for a while, even if it was a terrible situation."

"Yeah," said Oliver. "I understand. I wasn't struggling like you before the vampires, but it still was nice to feel like I had a purpose, even if it was feeding a vampire."

"I think if Jessica had been just a little bit nicer to me, the way Alexander was to you, I would feel a lot more conflicted," she said. "But you know that he didn't really care about you, right? I don't think monsters like that can feel real feelings."

"…Yeah." Even if she were right, it was a bitter pill for him to swallow.

"If Alexander really cared about you, he wouldn't have put you through all of that with his sire. He would have protected you, or stood up to him, or hidden you away, or something. Instead, he told you that he'd never let you free. That's what you said, wasn't it?"

"It is."

She must be right. It wasn't as though Oliver hadn't had that same thought, even while enthralled. His show of being caring was always a convenient lie to keep Oliver happy and docile.

But then, he thought of how tenderly Alexander had cared for him after he was blinded, how he reassured Oliver and soothed him to sleep with his song. He thought of Alexander by his bedside when he was sick, feeding him warm soup and wiping his forehead with a cool washcloth. Small comforts, perhaps, but more than Oliver had before.

"I suppose… a part of me wishes he did actually care about me, and that's why I don't want Vivian to kill him."

"…I get it," said Emily quietly. "I'm sorry I was so harsh on you earlier, but honestly, I do understand. I once had a lover… it's a shameful story, but I guess you've seen me in the lap of a vampire, so it's not like I have any dignity left. I once had a lover who showered me with gifts and affection, and made me feel like I was someone special -- when he was sober and in a good mood. When he wasn't, he was a nightmare. You can probably imagine it. And it took me such a long time to understand that if he truly loved me, he wouldn't treat me that way, not ever. Even when I did, it took me even longer to leave, because I wished he would be someone different, someone who actually cared."

"I'm sorry that happened to you."

"Don't be. Lesson learned."

"You shouldn't have had to go through that to learn a lesson," said Oliver. "But I do understand what you mean. I'm not sure if it's quite the same since Alexander certainly wasn't my lover, just…"

What was Alexander to him, exactly? His friend? His master? Neither of those could really captured the unwavering devotion, the powerful draw he'd felt.

The draw he was feeling even now, knowing how manufactured it was.

Tears sprang to Oliver's eyes as he was overcome by a wave of deep sadness, and although he'd been sad all night, this felt both foreign and strangely familiar, feelings that weren't his own, a sense of loss and melancholy and grief coming from far away, tethering him to…

"Oliver, what is it? You've gone so pale."

"Alexander. I can feel him. I think he's calling to me."

"Oh, no -- I'll go get Vivian right now." Emily rushed from the room.

It wasn't like a song, now. It was comprised of images, emotions. The library, cold and dark, Alexander weeping and calling him back. Oliver tried to push it away -- nothing more than a jailer upset that his inmate escaped. But he couldn't truly believe that, not with Alexander's own emotions clouding his mind.

"Go away," Oliver whispered to the empty room. "Leave me alone. Stop tormenting me with this."

"Emily said you've heard your former master?" Vivian was standing over him with furrowed brow.

"Yes, I'm sure of it. I can feel what he's feeling. It's almost unbearable."

"That's the blood connection." She looked out of the window, where the sky was growing lighter. "The sun will be up soon. If you can endure it until then, the vampire's power will fade when the sun rises. Do you think you could do that?"

"I think so." He didn't seem to really have a choice, not unless he wanted to betray Vivian and go running back to the manor.

"It'd be best if you could stay up for most of the day, to start to get used to a human schedule again. I can find ways to keep you busy and take your mind off things. And then when night comes around, I could give you something to make you sleep, so that you don't have to endure vampires intruding on your mind. How does that sound?"

Oliver nodded. "I don't think I've ever really thanked you for your help. You don't need to do all of this for me."

"It's my job," she said. "Besides, no one else has ever provided me such a treasure trove of information about my sworn enemy. It's been well worth it."

Oliver anxiously watched the sky outside his window, feeling as though the sunrise might never come, as though the vampire's power might endure forever. But of course the sun rose once again, and as Vivian predicted, Alexander's feelings faded away as the sun crested over the buildings.

He was exhausted, but found a second wind of energy helping Jenny prepare breakfast and eating a sizable portion of it himself, along with ample coffee. Emily overslept and dragged herself down the stairs just as they were about to clean up from the meal, pouring and chugging what coffee remained.

After breakfast, Vivian assigned Emily and Jenny chores, in particular taking care of Bobby, an erased thrall unable to care for himself. Oliver was reminded once more of all of the grievous harm of the auction house, even if he himself had escaped the worst treatment. Lily had done those things, and Alexander was more than complicit.

"What would you like me to do, Vivian?" he asked, more than eager for some work to quiet his mind.

"I was hoping you could accompany me to the grocer's and the butcher's, to restock the pantry. It would help to have an extra set of arms to carry back the food."

Oliver looked at Vivian's arms, recalling her struggle with Alexander. She was clearly far stronger than Oliver, and he suspected that needing someone to carry bags was an excuse to make Oliver feel helpful. Regardless, he thought that the fresh air would do him good. "I'd be happy to help."

"Great! Here, there's some spare coats in the closet. See if one fits you."

Soon enough, Oliver was out the door, blinking in the midday sun. He'd had so little sun, especially since he'd been sleeping in Alexander's room instead of his own. People were bustling about on the sidewalk, a mailman was making his way down the street, and all of the shops were open. The leaves were beginning to fall from the trees, but the foliage that was left was drenched in reds and golds. Oliver realized that he hadn't actually been outside during the day since his capture.

"You must have missed this," said Vivian as they walked to the grocery store. "Ordinary human life, I mean."

"I guess I did." In the light of day, it was a lot easier to put the world of vampires behind him as though it were all a bad dream. Under Alexander's spell, he didn't realize how much he had missed being able to simply walk down the street to a shop on a crisp fall day. He thought of sitting in the park among the autumn trees, reading a book and watching the people walk by, as he had liked to do on breaks. How much had the vampires stolen from his mind, to make him forget all of this, to make him content without it!

Even the ordinary grocer's was a delight. He'd always had plenty of food in the manor, and Alexander had bought him whatever he put down on a list, but there was a simple pleasure in looking over the grocer's wares and choosing it all himself. Vivian was mulling over whatever was cheapest or on sale to feed herself and the thralls back in the safehouse, and Oliver trailed along, carrying her purchases and making suggestions.

In the harsh light of day, with a clearer head, it was easier to see the vampires for what they were -- monsters who had stolen his life from him.

And yet, there was still a nagging part of him who felt like he didn't quite belong here, not any more. Not now that he knew that vampires and their establishments were all over the city. Not when he'd been getting so used to being on Alexander's arm, serving him and accompanying him.

He'd been the perfect thrall, supposedly, and although Alexander could have just been saying that to keep Oliver mollified, Oliver really couldn't deny how comfortable he'd felt in the role. Even as he was enjoying a sunny afternoon in the city, he couldn't shake the feeling that he was just playacting as a normal person. Alexander had convinced him so swiftly and so thoroughly that he belonged as a thrall that Oliver feared he might never be able to shake it.

But didn't that mean Vivian was right? Oliver would never be safe as long as Alexander and his sire were out there, beckoning him to return. And even if Oliver himself managed to escape, Alexander would only take some other poor soul and turn him into his slave. Leaving him alive would only be condemning person after person to be ripped away from the world of humans and trapped in the dangerous world of vampires.

The thought of Alexander taking someone else as his thrall made him sick.

If Alexander really was going to spend decades or centuries taking human after human, it would be wrong to leave him alive, wouldn't it? As much as that made rational sense, he couldn't accept it.

"Penny for your thoughts?" she said as they carried the groceries home.

"I was thinking about what you said before -- about how you need to kill Alexander. I confess that I still don't like it, not at all, but maybe… maybe it is the right thing to do." His heart ached from betrayal even as he said it, unable to convince himself.

"Thank you. I know it must be a hard thing for you to consider," she said. "I do understand your reluctance, at least a little bit. I did see you in your gilded cage. I saw that he treated you decently."

"He did." Oliver couldn't help but be mortified at the next question he wanted to ask, but he knew he needed to ask it anyway -- the question he'd been turning over and over in his mind since the ritual. "Vivian, you know a lot about vampires, right?"

"I'm not the world's foremost expert or anything, but I like to think I do, or else I'd be dead by now."

"Do you think it's possible -- god, this must sound ridiculous to you. But do you think it's possible for a vampire to care about a person? Not just for their blood, or as a servant, but actually care for them as a friend?"

"No," said Vivian immediately. "Maybe that's not what you want to hear, but no, they can't."

"I thought that's what you'd say."

"I've seen a lot of vampires in my time. Some of them treat their thralls well, like Alexander. Some of them beat their thralls, or chain them to the wall, or erase their minds to make them as helpless as a baby. Some of them don't keep thralls at all, but prey on people they find on the street, or in their places of business. The circumstances are always different, but there's one thing every vampire has in common -- they all prey on innocent people. No matter how gentle a vampire may seem, they still desire human blood above all else, and are driven to keep humans as their possessions."

"I see."

"You were a very prized possession of your master, I don't doubt that. He did value you. But if your happiness were actually his concern, he wouldn't have taken you from your bookshop. He wouldn't have had to hypnotize you into believing you were happy if he could actually make you happy. Don't you think so?"

"I suppose so," said Oliver. "I think you're probably right. It just hurts to realize. I guess a part of me…"

"A part of you what?"

"Never mind." He didn't actually know Vivian that well, and couldn't bring himself to say it, how a part of him wished that someone else in the world actually did care about him. "I suppose I'm also apprehensive, because if I'm to be free of Alexander, what should I do with my life now? That must sound terribly pathetic."

"No, it doesn't. Most thralls aren't sure what to do with themselves once they're freed, especially if they've been enthralled for years, or if they've been under a very deep spell, like you were."

"What do they end up doing?"

"Some of them return to whatever they were doing before they were taken, of course. But for a lot of them, that's not really possible. Being a thrall seems to change them in ways I don't even fully understand. And for those who have spent years or even decades in a vampire's service, the ordinary world of daylight is as foreign as the surface of the moon," she said. "Some of them are so lost that they end up in a madhouse or prison, or worse, find themselves a new vampire master. I can't say hunters look too kindly on thralls who are rescued, only to sell themselves back to the god damned auction house."

"I won't do that," said Oliver, wishing he actually felt as confident as he was trying to sound.

"Good. If you have the stomach for it, and are interested, sometimes former thralls become part of the hunter's guild. You see, one of the things that makes it difficult for thralls to return to their lives is the fact that no one believes them or understands the experience they went through. In the guild, you'd be surrounded by people who know all about vampires and other supernatural creatures."

"Oh, I don't think I could do that. I've never been the slightest bit athletic. I could never fight a vampire, even a weak one."

"You wouldn't have to fight. The hunters get the glory and the spoils, but there's a lot of other work to be done. If you have an education, they could use people capable of doing research."

"Research, hm…" Oliver couldn't deny that that might be a good fit for him, with his expertise in rare and unusual books. He wondered what sort of rare and interesting books the hunter's guild might hold. "Vivian, if you kill Alexander, what would happen to his library?"

"When a vampire is killed, it's customary to split the spoils among the hunter who killed it, the guild in general, and any thralls left behind. We'd each be entitled to a portion of what Alexander owns."

"I see." Even if he could accept that Alexander must die, it felt absolutely ghoulish to talk about splitting up his possessions. "If you were to kill him… do you think you could make sure that his library ends up in good hands? There's an absolute treasure trove of rare information there, one that would take multiple human lifetimes to recreate."

"Of course! I think you'd be uniquely qualified to catalog it. The guild would want their share, but they would be glad to accept an expert's opinion. And I'm only interested in money and things that are easy to sell. I'm not the reading type."

"Maybe… maybe that's something I could do, then." Something to distract from the guilt he felt pre-emptively, both for betraying his vampire master and for being one of the thralls lucky enough to be rescued when he wasn't even sure that he wanted it.

Previous > Masterlist

Thanks for reading! Next week, Vivian and Oliver both lose their patience.

@d-cs @latenightcupsofcoffee @thecyrulik @dismemberment-on-a-tuesday-night @wanderinggoblin

@whumpyourdamnpears @only-shadows-dwell-where-we-are @pressedpenn @pigeonwhumps @amusedmuralist

@vampiresprite @irregular-book @whumpsoda @und3ad-mutt

@sowhumpshaped @whumpsday @morning-star-whump @silly-scroimblo-skrunkl

@steh-lar-uh-nuhs @pirefyrelight @theauthorintraining @whump-me-all-night-long @anonfromcanada

@typewrittenfangs @tessellated-sunl1ght @cleverinsidejoke @abirbable @ichorousambrosia

@a-formless-entity @gobbo-king @writinggremlin @the-agency-archives @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi

@enigmawriteswhump @bottlecapreader @whump-on-a-string @whumpinthepot

@cinnamoncandycanes @avvail-whumps @tauntedoctopuses @secret-vampkissers-soiree @whatamidoingherehelpme

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@whump-me-harder @whump-till-ya-jump @the-monarch-whumperfly @ium1naryy @wumpbean

[taissaswifelowkey]

cigarettes, cigarettes.

a/n: idk why i felt like dishing this out??? and it was so random too like 💀💀 also, melissa is adorable and deserves the best of hugs people 😎‼️ proofread but there might lingering mistakes left. leave feedback if you have any, enjoy reading you already knowww, mdni

w/c: 3.4 k words

warnings: suggestive themes, mentions of a casual affair, swearing, mentions of smoking, love used as a metaphor of addiction and smoking, drinking at a party, overly dramatic writing, attempts at humour, gay yearning. melissa is in love but kind of doesn’t know how to deal with it.

second part will be written. more will be told about the reader’s background, and we’ll have a deeper insight on when they started seeing melissa. let me know if i missed anything else :)

it starts below the cut 🤠

Sitting on the rooftop, your eyes are mindlessly trained on the landscapes drowned by lamplights. A cigarette hangs between your lips and you’re starting to taste the bitter, raw nicotine from how long it has remained unlit. You wish you could bring yourself to inhale the toxins and allow the rot to travel throughout your lungs, consequently tainting your oxygen, but you’ve decided that you do too much of it already, the smell of her lingering fragrance marking your bedsheets being enough to ruin your health. It was a deranging fact considering you weren’t even a smoker. You wanted to find an alternative addiction that would slowly, softly kill you. It’s better to crawl at the hands of death rather than someone. At least that is what you think. Though you were always kind of melodramatic in that way. She’d tell you that whenever you would plead with her to stay with you after your nightly secret meetings.

Looking back at it you feel a little embarrassed. All those wasted words and wasted time. Wanting nothing more but to go back to stop yourself from breathing three words that left a taste of bile at the back of your mouth even after weeks.

Taking the cigarette away from your lips you twirl it around your fingers, the paper now nearly melted off. You don’t want to throw it away, feeling ridiculous that you spent your money on a twelve dollar pack. Lying back to rest on the cold concrete, you carefully place the cigarette on your chest in an almost cradling gesture.

The cold wind blows past your face, the skin of your neck, touching the places that were traced by her lips. Your fingers reach for them and you swear it’s like she never left.

“I didn’t know you smoked.”

A voice startles you, jerking you up. Instinctively you hold the cigarette like you’ve been caught. The act itself is unintentionally amusing, making the redhead bite back a smile.

“I don’t.”

“There’s no harm in it if you were.”

She casually strides up to you. She’s so pretty. She always is but you can swear that at this moment you’d be on your knees apologising to her for something you didn’t even do. And maybe that’s the problem.

“Yeah, well, I wasn’t.”

You stand up, dusting off your pants, wanting to leave. The further you stay the more your brain shifts to your first conflict. Memories of raised voices, of tears, flushed faces and accusing words quickly speed past your membrane.

“Then why is there a box peeking out of your pocket?”

“Why do you care?”

Melissa sighs, crossing her arms. She wonders if whatever you had to drink tonight warranted that behaviour. But she also knew you never really were the drinking type. This only somehow worsens things, knowing that you’re sober and somewhat justifiably annoyed.

Ava’s laugh breaks the tension brewing between you, reminding your surroundings. At Janine’s flat, a get together between colleagues.

“This is useless.”

You make a move to leave but she steps in your way. You almost want to laugh at her boldness.

“We need to talk.”

“We talked already.”

You grit, looking down at your shoes. She is being unfair. Sending you off, ignoring you for days and only talking to you when she needed to. Your friends did catch on to the shift of the atmosphere but couldn’t exactly place it. No one asked any questions either, knowing not to bother Melissa when she was having her pondering moments. It’s not like they could ask you anything either, always finding a sly excuse to get out of the conversation.

“Won’t you just cut the attitude and be serious about this for five minutes—”

“You have no right to tell me what to be serious about, Melissa. Not when you’ve got some questions to ask about yourself.”

You’re right. She knows you are. You have that same look on your face the day you pronounced the same words that felt like an open wound. “Why’d you have to ruin everything?” She asked, not frustratingly cried out. Then again her reasonings were justified. The agreement you had between you was simple. No attachments, no feelings.

With flushed cheeks she looks ahead of you. Her pride not wanting to let you know you aren’t exactly in the wrong, at least not really. Whatever it is, she won’t give you the satisfaction. Much to your great relief. Biting back your tears, you scoff, walking past her. She catches the subtle whiff of your linen scent, instantly bringing back memories of you spending rare mornings in her kitchen. Or evenings of her trying to teach you how to cook Italian food but ended up being distracted by the way you wrapped your arms behind her, placing soft kisses on her neck.

A couple excuses and farewells later you left the party, wishing everyone well and ignored Ava’s slight inquisition in your mood. You waved it off, joking that you’ve had many drinks in you and needed to rest. Which you should have seriously thought of before because Ava being inquisitive Ava knows you don’t really drink, failing at convincing you to slip a few drops of alcohol in the punch at a PTA reunion that one time.

“Something’s off with Romeo.” She points at Jacob and Barbara, who casts a curious look as you leave. He thought about it for a moment before speaking up again.

“I think Romeo is the wrong romantic hero to use here—”

“Can we drop the nerding for a second and gossip…I mean, talk about our colleague?” Ava exasperates.

Usually, Barbara isn’t one for gossip, but she had to admit your behaviour was strange.

“The other day I still saw her class lights on. I presumed it was to catch up on correcting papers but this has been the fifth time in a week.”

“What do you think it is? Heartbreak? Food poisoning?” Ava ponders, already thinking of the bake sale that you participated in, and accepts a plate of visibly raw cookies from a student out of pity.

“Or maybe it’s just stress and fatigue?” He hums, pretending not to know what she was talking about. The truth is, he was aware. At least he had some idea. He saw Melissa in one of your shirts once. Chalking it up to you two having a sleepover he dropped the thought but it was admittedly strange. He tried talking about it to Melissa in a completely innocent curious way, to which she quickly shut him down. He tried asking you, but you would always find a way to slyly change the subject.

“Another theory is either a relationship or a situationship gone wrong. Probably the second one. I haven’t seen that look in a while, that’s someone who needs to get lai—”

Melissa enters after, walking towards Janine and Gregory. She asks for you but they confusedly answer that you left. Right. She knows you did. But a part of her hoped you’d stay. A tiny part.

“Hmm, I don’t know. Digging into her life seems a bit unethical.” Jacob scratches his neck, acting as if he didn’t want to know what was really happening.

“It’s not unethical if we’re preoccupied.”

“I can’t believe I’m saying this but Ava’s right. We should be rightfully preoccupied.” Barbara supports, earning a slight indignant expression from Ava.

“What do you mean you can’t believe what you’re saying? I’m always right. Almost always.”

“What are we saying?” Janine interrupts, smiling cheerfully at the group. “Oh…is it about the appetisers? Look, I know they’re not exactly homemade but I tried to make it look presentable.”

Melissa is right behind them, peering through the groups' eyes. She catches on to Jacob’s uneasy smile, who grabs an appetiser from a nearby platter to avoid speaking. Ava clears her throat and resumes talking.

“We know they aren’t homemade. Maybe that’s what got our friend sour.”

Ever the sweetest person, Janine’s tone changes at the mention of you. You did look a bit off. She really thought it was the food but you reassured both her and Gregory.

“Thank God because I ate at least ten of those…” mutters Gregory, offering a teasing smile when Janine bats his biceps.

“What got our colleague sour?” Melissa questioned, or rather interrogated. She knew she somehow had to appear clueless if she wanted to avoid having a discussion. The incoming questions were already giving her a migraine. Though the only person she’d trust this issue with is Barbara.

“Now, I am in no way condoning gossip nor peering into personal lives—”

“Oh, just spit it Barb.” Ava eggs on. Barbara sighs and rolls her eyes before turning to Melissa again.

“We think it might be a case of a heartbreak. The opposite of you, actually.”

Ironic.

“Is that what it looks like?” Melissa ponders, trying so hard not to let her voice waver.

“Oh, yeah, speaking of how’s your date going?” Janine smiles, knowing a bit about Melissa’s “mysterious date”, consequently allowing the topic about you to change.

“It’s…it’s going okay. Ish.”

“Are you thinking about going official?” Ava nudges her shoulder, a conspiring smile on her face. “I would like to see who’s giving you that glow. Like where did you find them exactly? Wherever it is, maybe they have more.”

She fights back from blushing, her brain rushing to moments of you taking care of her, your soft praises, how your lips traveled across every inch of her skin.

“That good, huh?” Jacob quips, instantly recognising that look she has. She had it when you left to get coffee and he could’ve sworn she wasn’t just “tired”. She was unabashedly gazing at you. The woman’s eyes widened, wondering if she should shut Jacob up. But that will for sure sell her out.

“Leave the poor woman alone. She’s not who we are talking about at the moment. But you will have to tell me everything soon, won’t you, Melissa?”

“Yeah, yeah. I’ll tell you everything.”

“In any case, I hope it’s not too bad. I’ve seen that kind of heartbreak before.” Barbara winces at the thought of your solemn face. You were genuinely bright, not too talkative, but still a positive figure at Abbot Elementary.

“Let’s all drink in the honour of our Romeo and hope it’s not that case.” Ava pours drinks for everyone, clearly not using this as an excuse to get everyone to drink.

Melissa stares down at her cup before taking another sip, hoping the cup’s contents will wash down the churning feeling in her stomach.

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

The next following weeks went on as usual. You preparing your lessons, marking your students' papers. You think you’ve seen fiery red hair at your door but maybe that’s just your delusion.

Melissa’s week was fairly average like yours. Except that there is an issue. She’s not able to clear her mind out of you. That and you’ve left your shirt at her place. She wondered many times if she should call for you to pick up but has decided that your relationship is already awkward as it is. That and she still hasn’t told her best friend who had her smiling dreamily.

To make matters comedically worse Jacob is somehow connecting the dots. Asking her about the shirt you’ve left. Then about you and if you two talked recently. She tried to answer his questions normally but had a gut feeling that this wasn’t just innocent curiosity.

They were now at the professors' lounge room, having just had a lunch break with everyone except you. You said you needed to catch up on lesson prep and heated your lunch and left.

“Melissa I know it’s none of my business—”

“Damn right it’s not.”

“But I was just wondering—”

“Then stop wondering.” She shrugs, moving to pack her things from the lounge room. She liked to consider herself helpful but right now what she needed was to get home. And definitely not try to text you.

Jacob quickly stops her from leaving, blocking the entrance door.

“Jacob don’t make me start—”

“It’s her, isn’t it?”

She blinks her eyes, eyebrows furrowing.

“Look I know I shouldn’t care and it doesn’t concern me. But I’ve seen the way you two look at each other.”

Before she could even answer the door opens, making them both jump in fright. Barbara looks between them and shoots a conspiratorial glance.

“Gossiping again?”

“No?” Jacob answers as he pretends to dust lint off Melissa's shoulders. “Just catching up on…the weather?” To be fair he was a bad liar.

She shrugs his hand off her shoulder, looking at Barbara. She knows she can’t hide anything from her. What is surprising is that she can’t even hide anything from Jacob. Either he was too observant or she was becoming too transparent.

“Is anyone going to tell me anything?” Barbara raises an eyebrow, taking note of their awkward looks.

“It’s complicated.” Melissa sighs out, massaging her temples.

“I think this is something that you two need to talk about alone…” Jacob temptingly mutters, making a move to leave before the redhead grasps his wrist.

“Oh, no. You’re staying.”

It’s the least he could do for trying to dig into her personal affairs. His face is stricken with fear as Barbara’s confusion deepens.

“You might want to uh…sit down for this one, Barbara. But please don’t blame her for anything, I mean like she said it is complicated—”

“Wait, you knew about this?” Barbara inquisitions, her hand waving between her best friend and the frightened man.

“No, no, no! I mean I had some idea of it, Melissa was oblivious and I sort of figured it out—”

“Jacob. Quiet.” Melissa sits down on a chair, head dropping to her hands, mentally preparing for the incoming headache she’s about to get from all this mess.

“Will someone tell me what is going on? It’s not anything too serious is it?” Barbara takes a maternal tone, concern wavering in her voice at the sight of her friend in distress.

“You know I’ve been seeing someone?”

“Yes…? Did he…or they broke up with you? Sweetheart, I’m so sorry—”

“It’s someone we know.” The redhead speaks between her teeth, shame coursing through her body. She takes a deep breath, looking at Jacob who sends her an encouraging nod.

“You know I will never judge you, right?” Her best friend moves to sit in front of her, taking her hand in hers and lightly squeezing it.

“I know, it’s just…”

“Messy.” Jacob completes, earning an exasperated look from the redhead.

“Yeah.”

“Well I’m here to listen. And not judge. That’s not what we’re here for, right?” She looks up at Jacob, who shakes his head and offers his hand in support, hoping the redhead won’t break his phalanges.

“You know we’re here for you no matter what, Mel.”

The support is surprisingly enough for her to gain a little courage. She has to do it. If not for her then for you. Silence ensues.

“It’s…it’s…well.”

When Barbara hears your name, she swears she thought it was a joke. But at the look of Melissa’s face, she knows she is being completely serious.

“For how long?” The question isn’t meant to be judgmental, but the redhead fears it is.

“Four weeks.”

“That explains everything. You tolerated Jacob’s jokes more than usual.”

“Wait…you aren’t…mad at me?”

“Sweetheart, why would I be? I’m in no place to judge you whatsoever. As long as you’re happy and safe, you are free to live your life and see whoever you want to.”

“O…okay. Thank you.”

“There is no need.”

The pair hug, while Jacob awkwardly clears his throat.

“So does this mean I’m safe and won’t get kicked out?” He shrinks back in his posture as Melissa gets up, Barbara stands with her just in case she needs to hold her back. 

“Everything’s all good.”

“I’m sorry. I really didn’t mean to.”

“It’s okay. I think sooner or later you were bound to find out anyway..”

“It is true that I started asking myself a couple of questions when you didn’t have your glow anymore.” Barbara nudges her, smiling at the way she fights back her blush.

“Yeah, well…it’s kinda over now, so…”

“Over? Oh, honey, this isn't over for the two of you. Not until you two had a proper conversation between adults.”

“But she’s–”

“Then tell her you’ll give her all the time she needs. But soon you will need to talk. If she does not understand that, then at least you gave it a chance. Don’t let her run anyway again.”

She knows she’s right. She can’t let this go any further.

“Let who run away?”

Janine walks in a tow with Ava and Gregory. Mr. Johnson, who walked in to look for trash, stayed when he heard something that might make his day interesting.

Melissa looked at everyone before catching your figure in the hallway. You two share a fleeting look before you leave. Everyone follows her gaze before looking back at her. Ava raises her eyebrows and sips her cup of coffee.

“This is messy.”

“Ava, stop–” Janine softly intervenes but Melissa shakes her head.

“No, she’s right. It’s my mess to fix.” She gazes at the empty spot you left, wanting nothing more but to stop you from leaving.

“Are we going to have to play matchmaker?” Ava excitedly whispers to Gregory, who places a hand over her shoulder.

“Looks like it. Or maybe this is something for them to fix themselves.”

“You’re going to have to tell us everything. If you want to, of course. No judgments here.” Ava speakers earnestly, though her voice is edged with curiosity.

“I think this is something for me to talk about later. See you after class.” Melissa smiles at the group one last time, nearly breaking into a grin when Barbara offers her a thumbs up.

She already screwed up once. She wasn’t about to let you go again. Even if you decide to let her go, she has to let you know what she had to say from the beginning. What she wanted to say.

[choccy-zefirka]

Living Bodies

Woe! 3K words of body worship with Emmrich and a plus-size Rook, who that had a horrible first time as a teen and internalized her partner's disgust, be upon ye!

Content warning for references to bullying, dubious consent during the aforementioned first time, fatphobia, and also everyone's privates being out among the Necropolis flowers :3 (They are doing it in a cute skeleton-adorned gazebo that came to me in a dream)

Dear Lottie,

I am so terribly sorry you fell sick and missed all the fun! But we did it! We actually did it, all according to plan! Sprung the trap for my "secret admirer"! And our suspicions were correct!

All those gunky little lumps of soap Papa found folded in my laundry — they were put there by the washer girl! That knife ear, the one that looks like a toad! I think her name is Len-something, but who cares? And yes, she made them herself, out of whatever goop she's gathered round the alienage — because she has a """"crush"""" on me! The cheek! As if just because I don't like boys exclusively, I'd ever give the time of day to a walking, talking potato! She isn’t even cute in that scared rabbit way, like elf girls are supposed to be!

She did come to the "date" me and the girls arranged, too, and blathered on and on about how beautiful I am (fact) and how much she likes me (yuck)... Until we had enough and pushed her into the river!!! Oh, I wish you were there with us, it was ab-so-lu-te-ly hilarious!

Say, since you are sat by the window in your chair all day, have you heard any news out on the street? From the paper criers, maybe? I want to know if Len-whatever ended up drowning.

Correspondence between two traders' daughters. 9:40 Dragon

***

Happy now, Sticks?

Did her like you told me to. All the way. What a shitshow. Lardy Lenny is even lardier naked, that's for sure. Felt like sticking my dick into a giant slug. Next time I lose this stupid game, just send me into a shem's mabari kennels with salami for a sword. That will be way less painful.

Don't know how I'll fuck normal girls no. The fat cunt ruined it for me. Think I'll be having nightmares for years after this. Told her that, and she started bawling. Didn't even look funny like she usually does in tears. Just gross.

So yeah. Enjoy, I guess.

Note from an alienage boy to his friend, attached to a crumpled set of girl's underclothes. 9:42 Dragon

***

At first, Lenore is too distracted by turning and flexing her left hand. Her wrist has been getting a little stiff lately: she probably holds her arm at an uncomfortable angle when mixing potions. No surprise, since she is self-taught. Aching joints and sleepy pin pricks are the least of her problems, really! When she was just starting out, on a work bench that was just a half-rotten plank of wood balanced on a rock in the alienage backyards, she'd splash hissing, blistering liquid all over herself, turning her forearms into pale clumps of scar tissue, like cold leftover noodles plastered sadly at the bottom of a bowl.

Maybe if she observes Emmrich more closely during their studies together, she will figure out how to position her arms properly... Ugh. She'll find any excuse to "observe" him, won't she? Well, she's allowed; they are a couple now, outlandish as it sounds!

A couple.

All at once, her mind catches up to what her ears heard after Emmrich, gentle and attentive as always — what has she done to deserve him? — pointed out her stiff wrist.

Finer points of anatomy.

Her eyes dart upwards from her hand, and she gapes across their elegantly arranged tea table. Emmrich smiles, soft yet playful, eyes half-lidded and shining in the wisp light.

There is that side of him, that confidence — decades' worth of it — that sometimes makes her, all flushed and boiling alive in unspoken greed, wish for more than just quick kisses and lingering glances and fingertips resting on knuckles, shoulders, waists, whenever they stand too close. As if all of that was not already a gift far more generous than normally granted from someone like him to someone like her.

It has been a harmless enough indulgence to entertain, she supposes. A guilty pleasure, something titillating to think about in the secret alone hours while she touches herself. Not that she does it too often; bodies like hers aren't really meant for this, she's well aware... But still, that's also something couples are allowed to do, right — imagine each other's faces in place of characters from the Randy Dowager's Gold Collection?

But here and now, with Emmrich looking at her like that, it hits her with the full force of a Venatori blood forge trampling her to the ground. A keen, panicked awareness that this is not the Randy Dowager's Gold Collection. This is real — they are real. Especially her. Too real, too heavy, suddenly suffocating under her own weight, suddenly feeling the scented air of the Memorial Gardens with every pore of her skin, so tangibly, disgustingly physical that it begins to itch.

Most of her is carefully concealed underneath her usual Veil Jumper leathers, but if Emmrich, the real, non-fantasy Emmrich, decides to explore these finer points of anatomy, if he lifts the covers and sees just how much she the opposite of that...

Oh. Oh no.

She still remembers, a decade later, how the sight of her naked body broke the first and only boy that agreed to touch her. And that was before she got most of her scars!

She can't do that to anyone else, ever again. Especially not to him, not to her most treasured friend, not to the man who has been so kind to her that she dared bother him with her clumsy attempts at romance. Because with him, she could be certain, at last, that it would not turn out to be a prank.

How can she repay him by giving him nightmares?!

"Dearest? Why are you crying? Was I... Was I too forward? Too much?"

She did not even notice when the tears came. But here they are, marring her vision, so that there are two Emmrichs circling the table, kneeling in the grass next to her. Unafraid of the stains that will be left on the pristine Nevarran satin. Clasping her hands.

"I know that not all experience attraction the same way; if you would rather not explore this side of romance, that is perfectly fine, and wonderful! Your affection has already been such a beautiful gift."

Past her, the one that clung to the shadows, beyond the welcoming golden glow of camp fires, outside the reach of a friendly embrace; the one that spoke in sparse, grunt-like words, and kept her head down, beaten more than once, and shy far, far more than twice — that her would have made a vague noise and slunk away, never to bring this up again. But Emmrich — and Manfred! — was the one who brought her out of her shell. He deserves the truth, spoken with her whole chest.

"I... I do feel that kind of attraction towards you. You are a beautiful man, inside and out, and when I am with you, I sometimes forget myself and... pretend I am beautiful too."

She draws in a long, labored breath. She needs all the air in her lungs before this next plunge — she should know, she almost drowned once.

"But I am not. Especially not... from the neck down. You may have gotten used to my face..."

She dips her head — a habitual motion by now — letting her long, side-shaved fringe fall into her eyes. There's always quite a bit to hide under her hair: the dark rivulet of a birthmark on one side, the scar and the squinty damaged eye on the other. At least now she can do alchemical experiments in a mask and protective goggles. Less of an eye sore for Emmrich, to be sure.

"But trust me... My body is much worse."

She shuts her eyes and shrinks back into her seat, momentarily losing her present, adult, more or less mature and competent self (at least when it comes to alchemy and to… saving the world?) in the sheer blood-curdling terror of being seventeen again.

"The boy who took my virginity was so appalled that he said I'd scarred him forever. This has haunted me for ten years. And the... deed itself was punishment from his friends for losing some sort of dare. Do you understand?"

She forces herself to look into his eyes, even as the unseen, tightly wound strings holding her together begin to snap, one by one.

"Being with me... in that way... it's torture. I care for you too much to ever — "

"Lenore, my darling..."

Still on his knees — and still so tall that their faces are level — Emmrich pulls her hand to his lips and covers it in kisses. First on the outer side, swift, soft, each touch a beat of velvety butterfly wings; then, long, nearly reverent, on the inner side, where her pulse hammers against her bluish-pale wrist.

"Thank you for being frank with me. And I am truly, deeply sorry that you were betrayed with... such utter cruelty, in one of your life's most vulnerable moments. That fool of a boy was not the one scarred. You were. And oh, my dearest, you are still bleeding."

She listens to him in petrified silence, still as a startled halla before a long, soundless leap away from danger. She does not mean to — she knows Emmrich better than this by now; if he is disgusted by her, he will be much more polite about it — but instinctively, she braces herself for him to recoil away, grimacing like he is about to vomit. Overwhelmed by the sheer mental image of her laid bare before him. A slug; a toad; the stuff of nightmares.

Any second now. Any second.

He never does recoil.

"I know I cannot close this wound with a few words, much as I wish I could... But, darling, please try to take them to heart nonetheless."

His eyes, fully open now, reflect so much of the Gardens' ephemeral glow that it feels like she's sinking into two pools of starlight.

"Every body is as unique, as precious, as beautiful as the soul within. We study them, we mend them, we venerate them, in life and beyond. Your body is already dear to me because it is yours... And if you were ever to open it to me, like you opened your beautiful mind, there would be no greater honor than to discover — to savor — every last inch of it."

"I..."

Lenore swallows, her head swimming. If this lofty speech were delivered by anyone else, she'd have scoffed in doubt. Does she look like someone to whom a man (or woman, or anyone) would wax poetic about the sanctity of mortal flesh? What's the catch? But it's Emmrich, her Emmrich, whose voice and touch make it so easy to... Well. Forget herself.

"I want you to. Please."

He beams at her, placing one final kiss in the middle of her palm. Like a seal for a secret pact.

"Of course, dearest. Follow me."

They both get up, leaving Manfred (who has been off chasing the see-through Fade butterflies among the headstones, bless his innocent makeshift heart) to clean up their little picnic... Or at least to amuse himself with exploring how tea cups can be neatly stacked together.

Emmrich leads her to a secluded gazebo, crowned by yet another rendition of the embracing skeletal lovers that she has seen throughout the Gardens. Its threshold is barely visible, overgrown by a rustling carpet of delicate white blossoms that heave like the softest seafoam around Lenore's ankles.

"Shroud's kiss," Emmrich muses, after plucking one fragile white cup and placing it in Lenore's hand, right over the spot he kissed. The petals feel weightless against her skin, effervescent as a melting snowflake, as if woven from the Veil itself.

"I always loved the legend around this flower. They say that it grows on lovers' graves, and that one moves closer to the Fade simply by inhaling its fragrance."

He gestures to a bench under the intricate dome of metal lace, which is also cushioned in countless white flowers. She sits down, and a pale blue barrier shimmers into place around the gazebo. Shielding them from prying eyes. Emmrich's doing — or the Gardens'? Was this a secret rendezvous nook for someone else, once? Someone who might be buried underneath? Or, knowing Nevarrans, cast into the statue at the top of the dome?

"Do you think that legend is true?" Lenore asks, momentarily unable to contain herself. The fingers of her free hand race along the tips of the blossoms, and her alchemist's mind races in tandem.

"If we could maybe extract the essential oil and run a few experiments; but oh, that would require sacrificing so many of these beautiful flowers..."

Emmrich chuckles. He has leaned over her, bringing his lips so close to hers that she can drink in his breath, a pulsating heat beginning to rise at the bottom of her stomach.

"It is true if I will it, my dear," he murmurs, and the second he closes the distance, his tongue meeting hers in a kiss deeper than any they have shared before, the air all around them erupts in a cascade of pale-green sparks. Ghostly petals glide through the air, and if Lenore truly does tumble into the Fade, it is in a part of it that is as serene and sheltered as their Lighthouse.

The fragrant breeze is like silk against her burning cheeks, caressing her, each stroke leaving her more and more light-headed. Somehow, her body stops feeling like a heavy heap of scrap metal that she has to lug around while everyone stares at her; it is hugged gently by the cushion of petals, while Emmrich, as promised, explores it with both affection and... and gratitude.

He is still kissing her, diving deep with no fear of drowning, when his gloved hand unbuckles her belt and slips past the innermost layer of her traditional elven tunic. Her insides clench at the sensation of velvety fabric against her stomach rolls, and then her chest. As if she is balancing on a precarious clifftop somewhere back among the floating ruins of Arlathan.

But that startled pang soon dissolves into sweetest bliss. Emmrich has loosened the tunic's collar, allowing her shoulder and breast to escape, out into the warm, perfumed air. How scandalous! How very like the Randy Dowager's Gold Collection! Does she... Does she actually belong in one of those stories?

He continues to trace the outlines of her half-bared form, and his fingers are soon joined by his lips, which wander away from her gasping, half-parted mouth, and keep slowly moving down, paying a tribute of little kisses to each curve, each mole, each stretch mark. With a few motions of his deft, scholar's fingers, the layers of clothing peel off her torso completely, like she herself is a blossom unfolding.

His gaze measures her, from the flaming tips of her teardrop-shaped ears to the contours of her stomach. He smiles, a languid, hazy smile.

"Thank you for letting me see you, dearest."

"Can I..."

She clears her throat, part of her still dumbstruck in disbelief that this is actually happening. That she is actually saying this — to him.

"Can I see you as well?"

"I would be delighted."

She bites her lip, unsure where to start. But, ever so helpful, he weaves his fingers through hers, and patiently directs her through unclasping first his largest bracelet, then his collar pin.

Her heart hammers in her throat when she removes his jewelry and lays it on the bench beside her. With the bulkiest pieces out of the way, the buttons on his vest and shirt go next, and each of her little conquests over the delicate buttonholes is rewarded with a kiss from Emmrich. It does not slip past her that each of those grows a little sloppier than the next, a little more intermingled with bites and short, panting breaths. It's as if... As if he's enjoying her touch as much as she enjoying his.

At long last, his shoulders are bare as well. Exhaling softly, she marvels at the way the shadows of the gazebo’s lattice sculpt his bony clavicles, and runs her hands over the bristly cloud of short silver hair on his chest, and up his throat, where the skin is more worn with years of living, experiencing, being... him.

"You are perfect," she whispers, her thumb trailing over his cheekbones. At the sound of her words, his skin radiates rosy heat, and her body responds in kind.

"As are you, my darling."

His hands are back on her chest, as hers are on his. She chokes back a sound that might be a moan, or might be a sob. He pauses his chain of tender touches, uncertain if she is distressed. But she assuages his doubts by pressing into his mouth with another kiss, and if any tears do roll down her cheeks, those are tears of relief.

He hums in contentment at the back of his throat, and his fingertips, in their endless conductor's dance, brush along the texture of Lenore's many potion splash scars. She shudders when the cold metal of his few remaining rings glides over her, and the pulse between her legs, which has been growing stronger throughout their tender exchange of touches, of admiration, teeters close to its peak.

"Emm... Emmrich?"

She resurfaces from the kiss, dizzy and emboldened by the taste of him, and fumbles about for his hands, guiding them, like he guided hers, to push down her pants. His name comes out sounding as an awkward, stumbling mix between a needy plea and a tentative question. Emmrich, she means to say. Can you... Do this?

The thing is, she has no clue how to accommodate him between her thighs, underneath the soft pillow of her stomach. The worst parts of her, as the mirror says, as the memories in her head jeer.

But he smiles at her, and lavishes her with even more kisses, while she squirms under his searching lips, both nervous and aroused. Soon enough, he finds a comfortable angle... And again, he is on his knees before her. Fully giving himself to worship.

In romance serials, the good, beautiful partner with the perfect body orgasms when they are pleasured by their equally good, beautiful, perfect lover, and merely pretends to orgasm when the bad, comically inept or tragically forced lover, always fat, sweaty, and disgusting, slams against them like a dying tusket. What happens to the fat lover in the meanwhile, tends to be left out of the picture, because theirs is not the part of the story that the reader is here for. Perhaps, when the good lovers elope together into the sunset, the bad, fat lover is left to touch themselves all alone, in shameful secret, making a point not to overindulge, just like Lenore has in the past, because that would be disgusting...

And yet here she is. With a song of short, gasping notes coaxed from her lips, as his tongue circles within her and the ghostly blooms all around them merge into a flash of blinding white light.

When the peak is reached, when the wave hits her, and she, for once, is unafraid to drown, she impulsively grabs at the hair on the back of Emmrich's head... Which she only realizes once her mind stills a little — and instantly lets go, tumbling from the realm of pleasure back into awkward, clumsily physical reality. Apologizing for hurting him, again and again.

He looks up at her in half-drunken confusion, his hair in disarray, the pearly thread of her sex glinting in the corner of his mouth.

"Darling..." he manages to slur, his breath hitching. "You did not — "

Despite herself, she glances a little further down. And, for the first time — oh, by the Maker, Mythal, whoever, she is still so clueless! — she notices the bump in his pants. The little wet spot.

Oh. Oh.

He liked that.

"I wish I knew how to use my mouth the... the same way..." she stammers bluntly, still not looking away from the straining fabric.

"That is quite all right," he mouths, carelessly unspooling the band of red around his waist.

"There will be more nights like this one."

Until you become a lich and your duties take you away from someone so small and insignificant, a stray thought, like a charge of ice magic, runs through her brain, down her throat, impaling her very heart.

Grinding her teeth slightly, she wills her mind to return to the present moment. To the here and now. To Emmrich, brought to blissful ruin by the sight and feel and taste of her innermost self. To his sweet little moans and the rhythmic, almost elegant up-and-down pumps of his jeweled fingers, as they cup around the cock he finally brought out of his pants.

She never thought that Focus on his cock, focus on his cock, Lenore! would be a little chant of reassurance. The last time she saw erect, leaking flesh before her, she would rather have focused on anything else. But who knew that intimacy could be so different... even for the likes of her?

She bends forward and sneaks in a few kisses — on his wet mouth, over the desperately thrumming vein under his jaw — before his shuddering release leaves a messy splash of evidence over the both of them. She will help wash it off, of course; she knows the best potion mixes to do that... But it won't be something shameful, something that she had to get over with, retching and doubling over, her underthings stolen as evidence that the brave hero had survived the battle with the oozing, lumpy giant slug. It's simple, and natural — something that bodies do.

Bodies that are cherished and taken care of and worshipped. Hers revealed to him, his revealed to her.

Alive, here and now. Their skeletal forebears watching over them, in kindness and understanding.

[datawyrms]

12 Steps to Stop Beefing With a Teenager

Hey @katphantom69 ! Happy Truce. Hopefully you enjoy Vlad uh. Trying very hard to turn over some new leaves with some other ghostly friends :v It's all on AO3 HERE or we've got it all under the read more c:

“When you promised me an alliance that would change the status quo, I expected better than this .” Even if the ghost lacked a complete face, the gauntlet jabbing at the delicate cheese platter filled in the gaps. “This is your idea of great change and terror?”

“Eh. You might scare one of those lactose intolerant humans.” Skulker gave a smirk as the knight seemed to grow even more infuriated, flames bursting from his helmet.

“No! Do you know how many of those flock to cheese?! It is as if they think it is a dare!”

“It is for snacking.” Vlad let out a long sigh, trying to ignore the ache already starting to settle behind his eyes. “Nor are we talking about terror today.”

“Then this is a tedious waste of my time!”

“Oh, because you do so much! Slumbering in a pumpkin all year, while I, TECHNUS-”

“Skulker, I paid you to find people interested in attending. Not literally any ghost you could find!”

“They were all very interested in no longer getting shot at in return for attending. I don’t see the problem.” Skulker’s smirk only grew as the half ghost’s fingers started digging into his hair.

This whole ‘trying to be a better person’ thing was not worth it. It would be so much easier to just shoot that smirk off that metal face- or better yet remove his entire head. Really, he probably would just do that if he didn’t have the sneaking suspicion there was some sort of bet going on to who could irritate him the most!

So he had to settle for taking another deep breath. “We’re here to talk about constructive ways to fulfill a purpose. Ways that won’t get you tossed back in the Ghost Zone by an irritated teenager.”

“Well, if I could just skin the teenager we’d solve both problems-”

“Skulker, if you keep this up, I’ll have him send you back without your suit!” Vlad can’t quite keep the pink energy from gathering around his hands, but forces it to disperse.

“Why do you even care? You’re the one who suited up another teenager to kill him! Who of course, ABANDONED your WORTHLESS tech once she had a taste of REAL POWER designed by-”

The half ghost had to cut in before Technus really got his ramble on. “Why did you let her keep that, anyway?”

Technus’ rant stopped in its tracks, the scientist somehow at a loss. “Well. I was somewhat distracted with taking over the world-”

“Which failed.”

“WHICH WAS PUT ON THE BACKBURNER- and well uh. I couldn’t get control back from the suit? My genius was so great it outsmarted even ME-”

“Another stupid accident then. Wonderful.” Vlad muttered. As if it would be anything else. Half of his life seemed like an absurd accident. “How about instead of taking over the world, you could just go to a library? They have computers now.”

“Do they?” Technus actually seemed to be considering it for a moment, before shaking his head “It might not be as much fun as causing WORLD WIDE TECHNICAL TERROR though?”

“Where did you even get the idea it would be fun?”

“Says the evil overshadowing billionaire.” Skulker chimed in, earning another glare.

“Oh that’s easy! It was the ghost child’s idea! He’s very clever sometimes!”

He was going to scream. Of course it was Daniel’s fault! Why wouldn’t it be! He probably just spouted off something stupid his parents said and oops, now the inventor ghost has a world takeover hobby! Great! Thank you so much for this extra hassle!

“I am not changing anything.” Fright Knight’s ‘helpful’ contribution at least got Vlad out of his own head for a moment.

“What, you can’t get people afraid without the threat of death?”

That just got the Fright Knight on his feet and brandishing the Soul Shredder, instead of anything useful. “Are you insinuating my fear is lackluster?”

“No, he’s calling you lazy!” Skulker started cackling as the knight rounded on him, pumpkin already in hand. “Careful where you stab that thing!”

“Squash wielding simpleton…” 

“Better this than the plastic mess I dug you out of though, yeah?”

The Fright Knight refused to respond, which was probably the closest thing to agreement anyone was going to get. Did that count as progress? No, not really.

“Did anyone here come to actually try to figure something out, or should we just call it here?” Vlad couldn’t keep the irritation out of his voice, almost eager to call it a waste of time and move on to something else.

“Hey! What about YOU?! You’re a ghost that causes problems too, home slice!”

Oh for the love of fondue. “I am managing perfectly well-”

“Which is why you totally paid me to set up more cameras last week.”

“That I PROGRAMED so the ghost child’s little friend could not DETECT THEM-”

“A very normal and ‘not causing problems’ thing to do.” Skulker finished with the technological tag team, kicking his feet up onto the table as if to maximize the insult.

“Hah! You seem like a much larger problem than any of us.” The Fright Knight seemed in much better spirits with someone else being criticized. “Perhaps instead of this farce of a meeting you could find a therapist.”

Vlad could only scowl more “As if I could find one willing to work with me!”

The knight’s face may not be very visible, but the half ghost could practically hear the grin in his voice. “Surely not! There are plenty of ghosts who care about health. You would have had to do something abominably stupid to scare all of them off.”

“OH OH, like WHAT?”

“Perhaps something like, ah, stealing an immensely powerful artifact? Multiple, even?”

“Or letting out the ghost king! Who’d do something so foolish and get NOTHING out of it?”

His life is a goddamned comedy routine. Interrupting might make the two keep going longer though- so he just tries to wait until they get bored.

“Or better yet, repeatedly attacking who the leading medical experts consider a saviour! In front of them, no less!” Fright Knight was failing to keep his composure now, a cackle escaping at the sheer absurdity. 

“WHY, doing even ONE of those things would be hard!”

“Imagine a ghost foolish enough to do all of them!”

This whole thing was a set up, wasn’t it? He didn’t even know which one to strangle first. “Are you quite finished?”

“MAYBE!”

“It’s only fair we get to criticize you back. We don’t go around living over here full time like you half breeds.”

“I get plenty of that without your help.” Vlad might have added more, but stopped as the door swung open to show an irritated black haired teenager. “You’re late.”

The boy rolled his eyes. “No I’m not.”

“I didn’t think the ghost child was coming! HELLO!” Technus’ loud greeting earned him a grimace.

“I’m not a child. And I’m not here for your stupid meeting.” The boy crossed his arms, keeping a fair distance away from the other ghosts. “Did you even explain me to your little tea party?”

“No. Considering you didn’t show up, I figured it could wait.” Which was perfectly reasonable! Did he want to try to explain a doomed timeline ghost that was hanging out in a cloned body? No. It was complicated enough before even touching the whole ‘oh that ghost is two half ghosts in an angst blender’ thing.

“Figures.”

Skulker stared for quite awhile before frowning at Vlad. “Okay, this was mostly a joke- but you aren’t seriously trying to replace the whelp again?” The other gathered ghosts looked amongst themselves and Vlad, a mixture of concern and anger.

“No! He’s a time anomaly thing, not a clone exactly.” Even if he was using a clone body. Which ideally the hunter wouldn’t try to pry too much into. “I’m not doing any other clone things.”

“That’s right, you aren’t.” Phantom said, blue eyes flashing red for a moment. “Instead of doing this dumb meeting, I did something actually helpful! You’re welcome.”

Oh, that was very ominous. “What do you mean by-”

The explosion that rocked the room rather cut off any attempt to finish his sentence.

“Just removed some temptation for you, old man.”

He might be trying to be a better person. Sometimes, you just had to shift into your ghost form and fling yourself at the smug little menace that blew up a very valuable research lab. Especially when the target in question clearly wanted the fight!

Skulker, the Fright Knight and Technus could only watch the two half feral ghosts tumble out through a wall.

“Do you think he’d notice if we went and stole stuff from the wreckage?” The hunter broke the stunned silence first

“Probably not!”

“That portal better still work, I want no part of whatever that is.” The Fright Knight was already moving to leave the room and the entire farce of a meeting behind.

“BORINGGGG!”

“More for us, remember?” Skulker elbowed Technus before any extra goading could occur.

“Oh! Yes! FEEL FREE TO LEAVE!”

What was the harm in leaving a little extra mess for Plasmius anyway?

[twig-tea]

GL odds and ends 29 December 2024

The end of the year kicked my ass, but I wanted to get one last one of these out for 2024! The last one before this was 10 November. If you're interested in GL older than that, check out my GL rec list through Feb 2024 and my #gl recs tag for the other odds and ends posts. New series marked with an asterisk*.

Currently airing (with thoughts up to 29 Dec):

The Fragrance You inherit 5/8 (Japanese, Friday/Saturday-ish, no official distribution but fansub on @isaksbestpillow's blog [thank you Siiri!] I have been really enjoying this show and have been writing when I have time (last post was for ep4). At its core this is a gentle show about kind people who love each other doing their best, which is always my favourite thing. Subs are on pause for the moment so you have time to catch up before the finale!

Pluto ep 11/12 (Thai, Saturdays 9:30 AM ET, YouTube) This plot continues to be absolutely wild. There's a lot of discourse around Oom this week, to which I'll just say: Setting a test to see if the people you love will hurt themselves in order to make you feel better is not loving or healthy behaviour, even if your motivations are understandable and sympathetic. Namtan is doing a great job making these twins feel like different people, and she and Film are still gorgeous together. And I have no idea what's up with the messy lesbian sides, but I'm on the side of all of them need a time out! I've been pretty dialed out of this show because it's not my thing, so I'm not that invested in any of the relationships going into the finale, but it's been a wild ride and it seems to be holding together for those who enjoy the high drama of this plot.

*Petrichor ep 5/10 (Thai, Saturdays, 10:00 AM ET, iQIYI) The procedural aspects of this show are unfortunately not well executed, but Engfa and Charlotte have fantastic chemistry. I'm also really loving seeing Na and Max again even though I am very worried about getting too attached to their characters. It's always hard for me when a show is about a police officer trying to do good work in a corrupt system because the only takeaway I can accept is that that is not possible lol but I'm enjoying seeing these two on my screen every week (except this week, because we sadly did not get a new episode today).

*Mate, 6/12 (Thai, Tuesdays, WeTV (uncut version)) This one is hard to describe. It seems to be trying to do for trauma in a GL what Love in the Air and Bed Friend did in BL--show a realistic depiction of trauma in one of their characters and have them fall in love, and be taken care of and healed that way. But that also makes it extremely hard to watch. The trauma flashbacks and trauma responses is rough. The main character is not very likeable but that's kinda the point, I'm not minding that part of it so much. There are a lot of things I like about this show, so I don't want to discourage views. Just go into this one informed, and make the decision that's right for you.

*INTP 1/? (Korean, Fridays (?), YouTube) This is the latest short series from RedQ, who produced some of my favourite GL short series including More than or equal to 75 degrees C, and To the Ex who Hated Me. No info on how long it will be or if it will be weekly, so that Fridays release schedule is a total guess. The setup of this one reminded me of Semantic Error if SangWoo realized he was attracted to JaeYoung at their first group assignment meeting.

Recently Completed:

Apple My Love 6.5 50-min eps (Thai, Oct 12-Nov 16, GagaOOLala and YouTube) I ended up feeling like this one bit off a bit more than it could chew, as much fun as I had with it, it was a wobbly landing. I was ok with the ending at the end but I spent a lot of time watching the finale uncertain about how I felt about all of it. There's a 30 min "episode 5.1" that is an important bridge between episodes 5 and 6 (and also includes a 10-min fingering scene, thank you show) that I think resulted from either poor pacing or realizing they needed to set up the episode better? It was odd but something to make sure not to skip. The show does a lot of what I love about Kongthup's latest BLs: it avoids the worst drama pitfalls and calls them out in the show itself when it uses them, and it is largely about being kind to its characters who are figuring themselves out. Warning for extremely hard to watch secondhand embarrassment in the first couple of episodes lol Kris is such a cringefail lesbian I love her. With the caveats above, if you don't mind secondhand embarrassment and want a comedy GL and are willing to be a little patient with the ending, give this one a try!

The Loyal Pin 16 65-min eps (Thai, Aug 4-Dec 1, YouTube) Anin was the bravest right through to the end. I really liked a lot of this show, but I found the pacing a bit uneven and the finale a little rough. It's hard, because I actually am happy with the way the show ended--it makes perfect sense and was where I was hoping they would get to the entire show. What I didn't like was how we got there. It seemed wild that Pin and Anin didn't at least talk about this possibility before we got there; and didn't feel like we ever resolved the disparity between the two leads, though the show was aware of it the whole time which I did like. And you may have seen the shouting about the prank in the finale, it was in really poor taste. In the end, this show was beautiful, gave a platform for promoting Thai culture (food, clothing, history), and had excellent intimacy. I really enjoyed the slow burn between Anin and Pin, and I loved that every character had and used the agency they had, but that the show was realistic about what was in and outside of their control. If you want a slow-burn and high-heat romance and are willing to be a little frustrated for the sake of the drama, and/or you really like a pigtail-pulling romantic dynamic, you should watch this show.

Red Whisper 8 10-min eps (Korea, Oct 2-Nov 11, YouTube) Honestly this show never got better after what I wrote about it a month ago about how its portrayal of bisexuality and nonmonogamy was upsetting. For the record one last time: Not all bisexuals are nonmonogamous, and entering a monogamous relationship under false pretenses and then acting like your partner is being unreasonable by not wanting an open relationship is shitty behaviour. This one is sadly not recommended.

The Nipple Talk 10 30-min eps (Taiwanese, Nov 8-22, GagaOOLala) I highly recommended the first half, and so I am so sad to say that I can't say the same for the second half of the show. I was really enjoying how much the show seemed to support a mix of monogamy and nonmonogamy, but the second half of the show leaned heavily into 'everyone wants a monogamous relationship when they meet the right person', which disappointed me. The show also tried to introduce some themes that felt very dated in terms of how they handled them (e.g. HIV) and I ended up just not really liking the Pony character as a person by the end. The lesbian relationship was super messy in a way that I did not find fun too. Mama was the best part of this show, and I hope we get more characters like them in future (better) shows!

*Soul Sisters 24 12-min eps (Chinese, iQIYI) This entire show dropped this week so I binged it in one go. The basic setup is a GL version of Meet You At the Blossom, except the gender fuckery lasts for most of the series and they don't actually ever get to kiss. I loved this little show; it is a frenetic, very silly and censored comedy, so calibrate your expectations accordingly. But it walks the line in a way that is palatable (or was for me, anyway). Without giving too much away, it is an open happy ending. The caveats for this one are that there is no wasted tape, so the pacing is rollercoaster fast, and the cuts are sometimes jarring. But it's a surprisingly beautiful show for the budget, and I really appreciated all of the ways they came up with to give these women shippy moments. Also, good lord this main character is so competent, which is a major weakness of mine. I had a great time!

*Whisper Me a Love Song 12 25-min eps (Japanese anime, Apr-27 Dec, HiDive) This started airing in April but there was a delay and the last episode didn't air until yesterday. High school lesbians in a band having embarrassing confused and misunderstood feelings all over the place (with good endings including a kiss for at least one of our couples). I appreciate that this anime is not playing with the 'are they friends who joke about wanting to touch each other's boobs or are they more' line, they outright say they want to be more than friends and then kiss. The music is good too! Recommended if you are feeling like a high school dramedy with good tunes that stays pretty light and is in the 'bubble'.

Recent One-offs, Side Couples, etc.:

My Hot Butch Roommate (actually a 2-parter) aired on bilibili 1, 2) and was subtitled by @douqi7s on YouTube (1, 2) These two are very cute, and this little short does a ton with the very tiny 5 minutes of total runtime it uses. Give the original bilibili uploads a stream so they get views, even if you watch the YT subbed version!

Fufuknows put out a new lesbian short titled The Choices of Two Lesbian Couples in Love on YouTube This was a great short (11 min) film featuring the story of two couples at different stages in their relationship, and the different choices they make about their futures. I really enjoy Fufuknows as queer short filmmakers, and I appreciate that they regularly include lesbian and wlw content in their bi-weekly (as in, every other week) fictional shorts that they produce and release. This one is recommended!

Aim's Lesbian plotline in the new Love Sick 2024 remake concluded (this was not a plotline in the 2014 version and it's one of the changes I really like and that I think works really well) Spoiler: she doesn't get a romance happy ending but her story ends with acceptance from her friends about who she is, which was lovely to watch

There was a brief of-the-week lesbian couple who wanted to marry in Spare Me Your Mercy Spoiler: their story is tragic, which is par for the course in a murder mystery

I am suspecting wlw sides in See Your Love I may end up eating these words but I was getting vibes, and so I'm putting this out in the universe now in hopes I'm right lol

There is a new Korean shorts production company on YouTube called Lovememory (Their first BL ep is out and the GL, First Love, has a trailer)

Mom Ped Sawan started airing but I don't have a source so I can't give any info or links unfortunately. If anyone knows of a subtitled source for this show, please let me know!

My Ex's Wedding came out in Thai theatres waiting for an international source for this too

Korean short film What's In my Bag was uploaded to Matchbox I haven't seen it yet but the trailer is on YouTube if anyone is curious! The film is available now for a small fee on Vimeo (runtime 12 mins).

Sastra film app YouTube channel has several short Cambodian GL series that come out weekly Honestly they are not to my taste but I don't like gatekeeping GL especially from smaller markets. I check in on these time to time and if there are any that I think are great I'll give them a shout-out

Ditto above with JPC media YouTube channel for Thai GL shorts if there are any that stand out to me I'll say so; that being said I haven't had time recently so if I've missed anything good let me know!

Starting soon:

Us the series, Thai, 18 January 2025, most likely YouTube (as this is a GMMTV show) Caveat that this date is a rumour, see comments

Fragrance of the First Flower s2, Taiwanese, 18 February 2025, GagaOOLala ok this isn't that soon but I'm just so excited we're getting this second season after all!

It is so, so nice that we have this much GL to keep track of, I can't complain! This covers a whole month of content and it was a month I was very distracted from my QL consumption so while I always welcome anyone pointing out stuff I missed, I would particularly appreciate it this round.

[pastelwitchling]

Let's talk about Violet Sorrengail. I'm currently rereading Iron Flame in preparation for Onyx Storm, and I have so much to say on the brilliance of this series so far that I figured I could do it here. I particularly wanted to address the controversy I see around Iron Flame, which is on the conflict between Violet and Xaden, and I've seen people mostly siding with Xaden, calling Violet whiny or annoying or stubborn, and... I (not-so) respectfully disagree 😂 Warning: the following post will contain spoilers on both Fourth Wing and Iron Flame, so read at your peril:

I put out a post yesterday on fable where I basically said I was getting frustrated all over again at Xaden's secret-keeping, and I got two very different responses. One said they were angry at Xaden as well, and the other said they were annoyed with Violet. This is an excellent example of why I love this series so much: you could easily argue for both sides. At least, I could. I get that Xaden has to worry about the whole revolution and everyone involved, I get that there's more on the line than either of these two characters, I get there's a risk with Dain getting ahold of Violet, especially because we're not sure we can trust him anymore. I get there are risks, I get Xaden wanting Violet to trust him enough that she doesn't need every detail. I get all of it, but... I also really get it from Violet's perspective as well.

This is a girl who came in already one step behind everyone else, not just because she's disabled, but because she didn't train her whole life for Basgiath the way the other riders had, she never volunteered, she didn't have the drive for it going in that everyone else did. Her only option was to survive, and not because she hoped to have a dragon, but because she had no other choice. She couldn't join the scribes, so either she survived or she didn't. Her motto is literally "I will not die today" because that's all she can hope for. The only weapon in her arsenal and which she relies on to help her make it every single day is her intelligence and knowledge. She's the smartest, she can think her way out of any problem, she's intelligent enough to see paths where others wouldn't. Now? Now her only weapon is gone.

Her world's been turned upside down, one of her best friends died trying to protect her from a creature she never knew existed, everything she thought she knew and could rely on is gone, and Xaden puts her back in Basgiath, encourages her to isolate herself from her friends, not let on that she knows anything is wrong as innocent civilians are dying and towns are attacked left and right, and essentially tells her not to worry her pretty little head about it. He and the others will take care of it. What are they taking care of exactly? Well, who knows? Because he won't tell her.

DO NOT GET ME WRONG. I LOVE Xaden, he is... incomparable to me. But aren't his demands a little cruel? He has yet to tell Violet he loves her, but wants to hear the words from her. He has suspicions that Varrish will look through her things, but doesn't have anyone warn her. Maybe he can't tell her everything, but he can give her some idea on how the revolution is going, how plans are panning out, and refuses to do any of it. The most he tells Violet is that he wants her to ask the right questions, and my dude! You want her to ask you the properly-worded question so you can, what, give her another half-answer? And until she figures out those proper questions, there's a good excuse not to tell her anything? Especially when you are isolating her from everyone she holds dear, leaving her utterly alone while you get to keep your friends to rely on? And he can't tell why she'd be upset about this?

I got to the point last night in the book when he finds out she's researching the wards, and tells her that she's risking her life and he just wishes she would've been honest with him, and I guess my brain had completely blocked the hypocrisy out from my first read because I was gaping! He risks his life every day and tells her nothing about it, tells her not to even worry, but he demands honesty from her now?? With what right, sir???!!

Also, ALSO, just humor me for a second, but assume Violet did do as she was told. Assume she did try not to worry about it, not to get involved, not to do anything Xaden doesn't want her to. How does that make her a badass fmc? I think of books like Quicksilver and When the Moon Hatched and Crescent City, where the fmc was all bark and no bite. She TALKED about how much she cared about other people, she TALKED about how much everyone meant to her, she TALKED about injustice and how angry it made her and how much she wanted things to change and be better, and what did all of those fmcs have in common? They either did NOTHING, constantly yanked around by the male main character with every excuse to continue to do nothing, or they selfishly went out and made things worse in the name of doing something.

What did Violet do when Xaden told her not to worry about it? She fought back, she understood why she couldn't be told, but still asked for something so that she wouldn't go out of her mind. She was thrust back into Basgiath, lost and not knowing who or what to trust, and decided she was going to be productive, she was going to look into the wards and find a way to protect people in a clever and quiet way. And spoiler alert? It's her work with the wards that ends up saving everyone, and she doesn't get innocent people killed or in trouble doing it either.

I am so eternally sick of being TOLD why female main characters are badass and how caring and wonderful and self-sacrificial they are, and what do we get? We get unbelievably selfish characters like Bryce, or fmcs from Quicksilver and When the Moon Hatched and One Dark Window whose names I've already forgotten because all they did was snarl and talk and had no abilities to follow it up.

So yeah, I'll defend Violet until the hilt because she's out there DOING something helpful and worthwhile, she's actually contributing, and her anger makes sense. She's separated from everyone she loves, the one man she wishes she could talk to is gone most of the time, and giving her half-answers when he's actually there. She doesn't know what to trust, this is a girl who recites the history of her world to calm herself and give herself courage, and who has now discovered that that history is a lie. Xaden is supposed to be the guy that believed in her abilities when no one else did, and now she feels like he's become just someone else who doesn't trust in her strength to guard her thoughts against Dain. Whether or not it's true doesn't matter because it's how he makes her feel, and her feelings are already a mess after everything that's happened.

Does it come off a bit stubborn? Sure, but... how I think of it is a lot like Harry Potter from Order of the Phoenix. He was angry during that whole book, too, but I don't know, these characters are always so good and brave and clever and genuinely caring and willing to do what it takes for the people they love that when they can't take it anymore, when they've been pushed to their limit, it's not fair to tell them to just be reasonable and follow orders and keep quiet. They know too much, too much has happened, too many people around them have hurt them. I think that warrants a little anger, a need to be useful and do something when everything else feels so hopeless.

If Xaden wanted somebody that was content not knowing and not helping and not caring, if he wanted someone that wouldn't have put their lives at risk to save people and, above all, save him, then he should've fallen in love with someone else.

[mikuluvu]

A/n: WKWKWKKW, HERES ANOTHER CURLY X READER. I LUV HIM SM. Cuz what if you and him had a daughter? And literally took her into the tulpar?

Curly x fem!Reader

Warnings: none, just its bitsy angst on the end.

“Careful, sweetie,” Curly said, crouching next to her as she lined up her magnetic building blocks on the floor. “You’re gonna trip me on my way to work.”

Your five-year-old giggled, clutching one of the blocks to her chest. “Sorry, Daddy! I’m making a house.”

Curly grinned, his warm brown eyes sparkling with affection. “Well, it’s a very nice house. Just keep it out of the hallway, okay?”

Bringing your daughter aboard the Tulpar had been a controversial decision, one that had sparked more than a few arguments among the crew.

“You really think it’s a good idea?” Marcus, who's one of the guards, (before going on to the ship( had asked when you first brought it up. “Space isn’t exactly kid-friendly.”

“She’s not just any kid,” you had argued. “She’s our kid. Curly and I know how to keep her safe, and honestly, the Tulpar is better than leaving her behind on Earth. At least here, we know what’s happening around her.”

Life on the Tulpar might not have been perfect, but it was safer, more stable.

Initially, the crew had been skeptical. Anya had to say something about it. “What if something goes wrong? How are we supposed to focus on our jobs if we’re constantly worried about a kid running around?”

But over time, your daughter’s presence softened even the most hardened crewmates (Jimmy Lol)

Jimmy... Didn't really enjoy the company of his best friends daughter, his basically an uncle now... But when he got called 'uncle'... A small smile would appear on his face.

Daisuke, ever the gentle soul, quickly became her favorite babysitter. He had a knack for making paper cranes out of old reports, which never failed to make her squeal with delight. He would let him play on his gameboy really. Would play tag w/ your daughter.

“I think she likes me more than you two,” he joked one evening.

“She just likes that you’re a pushover,” you teased, though you appreciated his help.

Anya would teach her how to do some simple first aid.

“She’s got a good eye for detail,” Anya admitted one day, ruffling your daughter’s hair. “Might make a decent nurse one day.”

You and Curly alternated shifts, ensuring one of you was always with your daughter.

Swansea would go instantly soft, cuz your daughter reminds him his own children! Maybe 2nd best being a babysitter, he keeps warning your daughter to not get any closer to the utility room... And your daughter would ask: "why not?" "Because i said so"

One day, during a quiet moment in the cockpit, your daughter climbed onto Curly’s lap, staring out at the stars.

“Daddy, why are the stars so far away?” she asked, her tiny voice filled with wonder.

Curly wrapped his arms around her, resting his chin on her head. “Because that’s just how space works. But you know what? Even if they’re far away, they’re still beautiful. Just like you.”

You couldn’t help but smile at the sight.

That night, as you tucked your daughter into bed, Curly leaned against the doorframe, watching with a soft smile.

“Do you think we made the right choice?” he asked quietly once she was asleep.

You stood and crossed the room to him, slipping your arms around his waist. “Bringing her here was the best decision we could’ve made. She’s safe, she’s happy, and she’s growing up surrounded by people who care about her. What more could we ask for?”

Curly kissed your forehead, his embrace warm and comforting. “I just want her to have the best life we can give her. Even if it’s a little unconventional.”

You smiled up at him. “She’s got us. That’s all she needs.”

All she needs...? Yeah... Isolating her from the world is that it? Maybe... It wasnt a great idea...

A/n: WOOHOO! Daisuke would be the best babysitter for your child. I just know it really :) Please support me through ko-fi

[buoyantsaturn]

read my friends' fics from 2024 or else

The Father Dilemma by ember @gatesofember from the wild west au series

A year after deciding to stay permanently, Nico di Angelo has long since settled into Ladon Creek. He has two bothersome but loyal housemates, a caring community of friends, and a loving partner. His days have never been so peaceful and he never thought he’d feel so happy. But his calm, blissful life is thrown into disarray when he learns some truly sinister news: Will’s father is coming to visit. [T, 6,841, 2/7]

FAR GALAXIES by rosy @rosyredlipstick

She didn’t answer. Instead, she pulled out her PADD from her coat, slow enough that Nico only slightly twitched. Jason’s transmission was loaded up on the screen—at the bottom, their signature tag was spelled out. “Guardians of the Galaxy. That supposed to be a joke?” “More like an aspiration,” Jason said. - Space, the final frontier. Or whatever. [E, 365,994, 14/14]

three-in-one soap by emi @thelordofshrimp

Austin glared at his sister. “Will can’t lie, genius. He says that since he became head counselor, any shower that lasts more than three minutes gets interrupted by someone needing his help.” “That’s… crazy.” Nico considered the number of showers he’d taken even in his short time at camp and imagined if even half of them had been interrupted. “It is,” Jerry agreed. “Not like there’s much we can do about it, though.” “You can always do something about it.” Nico sat up. “There has to be something.” “Not unless you can somehow keep the whole camp safe at once.” [G, 5,798, 4/4]

I wanna make you mine, but that's hard to say by ethan @ethannku

Rather than dignifying Will’s likely insult with a response, Nico took another deep inhale, then tipped his head back to blow the smoke straight up into the air. When he tipped his head to the side, he found that Will was still watching him, his eyes cast low, maybe to Nico’s shoulders or neck or mouth-- [T, 8,615]

kiss with a fist is better than none by lori @sunflowersandscreams

Well, if he wanted to play it like that, then Will would meet him halfway. “I meant it. What I said earlier. I would have liked to make peace so we can get over this whole… whatever, but you just had to be an asshole, so never mind, I guess.” Nico looked at him, bored, a distinct lack of an expression on his face. “You think I’d really believe that? That you’d be so courteous, so kind, as to- what, ‘use your hand as an olive branch’? I’m not naïve, Solace.” “I wasn’t saying that you- it’s not like-” Will bit his tongue. “You don’t wanna be nice to each other? Fine. I don’t care. It’s not like it would change much, or that we could change much, at this point.” “Your guilt tripping isn’t going to affect me.” Nico tilted his chin up, angry now. “Maybe I’m fine with being like this? Or maybe it just doesn’t matter as much as you seem to think it does.” ~ Nico and Will have been rivals slash sworn enemies since the beginning of high school, when they both joined the orchestra. Things change, for better or worse. [T, 62,457, 6/8]

Does This Still Count as Solangelo Week if It's July by alfie @lordstormageddidnt

Will likes cuddling with Nico in his sleep. Nico likes cuddling with Will. But Nico does not like waking up in a pool of sweat because his boyfriend is half-sun-god, half-space-heater. [G, 1,232]

never a clean break (no one here to save me) by katherine @yrbeecharmer from the exes au series

It’s been a year and a half since Aphrodite’s shitshow, since they finally processed the things they never had and agreed to move on, and how many times has Will made it clear they’re fine now? Not that they really talk about it in so many words anymore, but that’s because they shouldn’t have to. They’re friends. Not close ones, but friends. And Nico has a boyfriend. So why on earth is he calling Will, right now, to do this? [M, 12,444]

a sweet tooth for you series by becca @thebhorror

Nico works in a bakery and is determined to make Will fall in love with him his baked goods [G, 23,447]

& if you stay too long it will kill you marble @marbleheavy

As he looked up and stared at the sky, his thoughts seemed to fall through the grates of the fire escape. He could pretend that the flickering light from the planes passing by were stars if he didn’t think too much about it. As if the light pollution hadn’t swallowed the whole of his visible universe. He took a drag from the cigarette and sighed, dropping his gaze back ahead. [T, 1,232]

bulls and blood by allison @rainnows

Cowboys were not Nico’s type. At least, that’s what he’d been telling himself for the better part of two hours, propped up as he was against a fence bordering the arena, where he definitely wasn’t allowed to be, photographer’s pass around his neck or not. [T, 1,213]

[thewalrusespublicist]

Hi! What are your thoughts on Paul's relationship Jane Asher? It seems very not affectionate, and even that Paul didn't care about it at all, Jane a little bit more than him but also not really? So a PR relationship? But if yes, why? It's pretty bizarre to me when I look at it . What do you think?

Hi anon!,

I think there’s a bit of a misconception about their relationship that lingers because neither of them have talked about it and it ended terribly (iconic break-up though Jane just amazing). Linda's illness meant that Jane was also airbrushed from MYFN out of respect for her (Peter Cox keeping a copy of Jane's cookbook to pull out and set Linda off about her own autobiography is both worrying and hilarious). All of that makes it seem like she was a blip.

The reality was that Paul and Jane were sweethearts who were deeply loving and affectionate. There's been a lot of really good compilation of quotes and lovely images which I'll link here and here. In short though, Paul lived with the Asher's for years, took time to spend on just her, alludes to missing her on Sgt Pepper and were remarked on as being a lovely couple by people like Ray Connolly, Cynthia and Patrick Stewart weirdly. I can't remember where I saw it but there was this article after Paul was with Linda where he's says something like 'Jane and I are still in love with each other like you are with exes but hey ho!' (I remember it clearly because it was a huge WHAT moment, please if anyone has it I'd be so grateful.) When they split Paul spent weeks crying on Alistair Taylor's shoulder about how he'd lost his 'closest friend', the one he told everything to and he could be himself around. Jane loved him for him and showed him a whole new world and scene. She was a huge part of his life, to the point he dedicated part of 'Eye of the Storm' decades later to her.

So if they were this big love story, why did they split? Well aside from the tinnnyy little cheating issue, they just weren't suited at that life-stage. They met when she was 17 and he'd just turned 21 and broke up when she was 22 and he was 26. People change a lot as they get older and suddenly life plans get in the way. Jane didn’t want children then and wanted her own career whilst Paul is one of the most instinctively paternal, baby-crazy men I’ve ever heard of and had at the time a view of a ‘traditional’ wife that stayed at home with the children. Those two alone are deal-breakers for any relationship. In the Hunter Davies bio it seems they are trying to work the career thing out but there is no way on gods green earth that Paul would give up on the prospect of children.

Then there were the other problems. According to Ray Connolly, Jane didn't like Paul’s drug taking, the affairs, his preoccupation with the Beatles and that he seemed closer to John than her and prioritised their relationship over her (💀). Jane quite fairly wanted to be number one and Paul did try to prioritise her with weeks alone after India in Scotland. However at the end of the day Paul was too enmeshed with the Beatles and especially John to give her that starring position.

So yeah, Jane played a really important part in Paul's life in the 60s, they had a deep and cherished relationship but ultimately they wanted different things and really no one could come between Paul and John ... except themselves.

(Also ngl if you wrote 'we can work it out' about me I would have throttled you Jane has some patience goood god.)

[darcytaylor]

I'm aware this is unfair and you don't have to entertain it, but I resent Antonia a little bit for making me think less of Luke because of her actions. Whenever she posts, I reexamine my opinion of him, not because of anything he's done, but because him being with her doesn't square with the opinion I've formed of him based on how he shows up in the world. I know it's not his responsibility to fit in with my view of him, I'm just tired of this. I don't know what to think of him at all anymore. I want to be a fan but she's making it hard. There's always that niggling feeling in the back of my mind of, what if he's in on the trolling, y'know? I just hope it isn't the case.

Thank you for sharing this - it’s an honest and vulnerable perspective, and I know people can relate to the dissonance you’re describing. It’s natural to form an opinion of someone based on how they present themselves publicly, and when their personal choices seem at odds with that image, it can feel weird (I’ve brought this up in another post a while back). I think your self-awareness about this is important, especially in acknowledging that it’s not his responsibility to fit into the image you’ve formed of him, even if it’s frustrating at times.

I also get why you may be questioning if he’s in on the trolling (if there is any trolling to begin with - I mean, there probably is some, but most of it seems pretty harmless). That said, I do think things tend to get blown way out of proportion by the fandom. However, unless there’s clear evidence of something more intentional, try to remind yourself that it might just be social media noise and not reflective of any deeper meaning on his part (and even hers).

On a more personal note, I’ve realized that I wouldn’t likely be friends with Luke or his type of friends (sorry, but it’s true, haha). Theatre aside, I can tell they’re not a group I’d naturally connect with - and honestly, that includes Luke. Have I seen some questionable things done by Antonia and her mother? Yes. But again, I don’t know any of the people involved. Who knows? Maybe I’d actually be best friends with all of them, haha! It’s entirely possible my preconceived notions are shaping this belief.

So again, I can’t stress this enough: it’s important to remember that we don’t actually know any of the people involved, and that includes Antonia (we don't actually know what kind of person she is). The image she’s curated within the fandom is partly her own doing, but at the end of the day, maybe she just doesn’t care about how she’s perceived in these spaces. While that might bother some people, it could also be seen as a good thing. If she’s happy and living her life on her own terms, then maybe that’s all that matters to her - and that could be valid.

I’ll admit, I’m way more of a people-pleaser. I hate confrontation, and I’d feel emotionally crushed if I had thousands of people hating me online. But just because I’d approach things differently doesn’t mean her way is wrong or ultimately makes her a bad person. It might just reflect different priorities, values, or ways of dealing with public scrutiny.

She is also very young, and what she posts is on brand for her and her friend group - which includes Luke. This doesn’t make me hate Luke, though. I think he’s super talented, and I find myself more invested in his career choices than his personal ones.

I think this all comes back to the complicated nature of para-social relationships. It’s okay to feel conflicted or even disappointed - it’s a natural part of navigating these dynamics. But maybe it’s worth considering whether entertaining her social media is really helping you. If it’s becoming too frustrating, it might be easier to block her and remove that source of stress for yourself. I know people on the internet tend to repost things, so it can be hard to avoid her altogether, but there are definitely spaces that don’t focus on her actions and posts. Maybe try to find a community like that (even just for a little while), because at the end of the day, she’s just a person who might be dating Luke.

[occultbooks]

dylan's hilson playlist masterpost

THIS IS A LONG POST!

I have a lot of thoughts and opinions and you don't have to agree but they make me feel so sick to my stomach that I had to make a post. Music is, in my mind, one of the greatest things in the world. I'm very passionate about it. So, here is a (chronological) list of songs that remind me of House and Wilson.

You Don't Know Where Your Interest Lies (1967) - Simon & Garfunkel

S&G deep cut I love. One of their only singles that didn't end up on an album. This one is pretty straightforward. Could be from either perspective, but I like to think it's Wilson's perspective. The song starts:

You don't know that you love me You don't know, but I know that you do

and the second verse includes the line:

You may think that we're friends, all right But I won't let friendship get in my way

The vibe of the song is also much more musically intense than Simon & Garfunkel tend to veer in their love-related songs, making it aesthetically fitting to Hilson as well.

2. Starry Eyes (1979) - The Records

This one is slightly up to interpretation (not a very popular song so meanings aren't readily available) but it has a kind of melancholy unrequited "giving up" theme.

I don't wanna argue, there's nothing to say Get me out of your starry eyes and be on your way

I like to think of this one also as from Wilson's perspective, but he's pretending he's speaking on behalf of the hospital, offended at House acting in his own self-interest. Early season 8 "we're not friends anymore" vibes.

3. This Night (1983) - Billy Joel

Being on the same album as Leave a Tender Moment Alone, this one is very fitting to me. This one, in my head, is like House's perspective, alternate universe where Wilson isn't so repressed. The lyrics are so deliciously tragic to me even though the resolution of the song implies happy endings. Verse 2 makes me feel sick to my stomach:

I've been around, someone like me should know better Falling in love would be the worst thing I could do Didn't I say I needed time to forget her? Aren't you running from someone who's not over you?

UEGGHHGRHGAHGHR sorry this one I can't even be civil about. it makes me emotional

4. You Make Me Feel Like a Whore (1995) - Everclear

This one is self-explanatory but I'll preface a little bit before writing out some of the lyrics. This could be either House or Wilson perspective. Horniest middle-aged men in New Jersey. I feel like they're all over each other all the time. A bunch of freaks.

I take your word like it was gospel  I'm so eager to please  Yeah I like it when you talk to me  It feels so good inside your shadow  It's the place I need to be Yeah I know I need to climb you  Like a tree

Yeah. You guys know. The rest of the song is just as horny and I just...yeah.

5. Selfless, Cold and Composed (1997) - Ben Folds Five

House perspective for so many reasons. Many lyrics about someone telling you they're done with you and walking out, and you feeling like that's probably fair.

You don't owe me to be so polite You've done no wrong You've done no wrong Get out of my sight

but the one that fucks me up is

Come on baby now throw me A right to the chin Don't just stare like You never cared I know you did

Asking the other person to hit him to show that they care is such a House thing. Again: early season 8. This could realistically be any House relationship, really, but it's so Hilson breakup to me.

6. G.I.N.A.S.F.S. (2007) - Fall Out Boy

Fun fact: the song title stands for "Gay Is Not a Synonym For Shitty." Just thought that was interesting. Anyway, this is also from House's perspective. I could probably go into detail about every individual lyric but I'll try not to. This song is about yearning for someone you either can't have or shouldn't pursue. Post-canon (post-Wilson death) makes the most sense for most of the song but it could also be just House being in his own head and believing Wilson is too far away to reach.

Trade baby blues for wide-eyed browns I sleep with your old shirts and walk through this house In your shoes, you know it's strange It's a strange way of saying that I know I'm supposed to love you

I feel like House probably wears Wilson's clothes after he dies. It makes me unbelievably sad to think about. Anyway, the second verse followed by the pre-chorus kills me:

I've already given up on myself twice Third time is the charm, third time is the charm Threw caution to the wind, but I've got a lousy arm And I've traced your shadows on the wall, now I kiss them Whenever I'm down, whenever I'm down Figured I'm not figuring myself out Things aren't the same anymore Some nights, they get so bad I almost pick up the phone

Thinking about House grieving...augh. They make me nauseous.

7. Away Frm U (2012) - Oberhofer

This song is about resisting someone who is shutting you out to try and keep them afloat. It doesn't have a lot of lyrics. It's very Wilson though.

You're pushing me away from you And there's nothing I can do And I can't fight all of your battles for you

That's about it.

8. Everyone But You (2017) - The Front Bottoms

The vibe of this song is fairly cliche, but "I hate everyone but you" as a concept is so delicious. It's also a little bit about feeling numb, which is very House to me.

It doesn't get worse, it doesn't get better You just get old, it lasts forever Can't get happy, can't get sad It's hard to do When I hate everyone but you

It's so sad to think about how House just spends his whole life trying to be as numb as possible because everything hurts all the time, and the only one who is (somewhat) consistent in his life is Wilson.

I fell in love 'Cause no one saw me the way you did And no one's seen me that way since But for a short time that's how I lived

Again, this could be any House relationship (ESPECIALLY Stacy), but also thinking about post-Wilson death House reminiscing is so...argh.

That's all I have for now. I mean, I have more songs on my playlist, but this is all I feel confident enough to pick apart. Link to the full playlist here, though it is Apple Music so sorry if u don't have that lol.

[softspeirs]

May I request for the taking care of a tired lover prompt,  Blakely x Marie + ²⁾ “you’re going to bed, even if i have to carry you there myself.”?

A/N: Love this so much. Ev Blakely, your soft spot is showing! This is the first thing I've written in weeks and I felt I struggled with it a lot, so please let me know what you think of it! Thanks to @mercurygray for helping me out with the plot!

The music is loud in the pub tonight, and Ev Blakely is fighting off a pounding headache. He has been working 12 to 13 hour days for the last week, and he wants to go bed, but instead he's been dragged here, his friends insistent that he have a drink and try to relax.

Fat chance of that.

He knows he's being sour. He's not good company, and he doesn't miss the way Dougie is looking around, searching for anyone who's more willing to carry on a conversation.

Loud, female laughter from the other side of the pub grabs his attention, and he watches, amused, as Helen and a few of the other Red Cross ladies try to convince a girl he doesn't recognize to go dance with them.

His gaze is drawn to Fernandez, nearby. She's smiling, but it's tired, and he frowns at the circles under her eyes.

He's been seeing it in too many of his friends, and he's sure he looks much the same. Still, he doesn't like it.

"Are you listening to me?" Dougie elbows him.

"Yeah, yeah." Ev says, turning to his friend. "Just-- noticing that no one really seems in a party mood."

Douglass shrugs, taking another sip of his drink. "Because no one around here has gotten more than a few hours of sleep in a week."

The invasion is looming and they all know it. It's been nothing but planning and planning and more planning, and in the middle of it, they're still flying raids like there's nothing more imminent coming.

Underneath it all is the undercurrent, their missing friends, who they all think about but no one talks about. They don't say their names, they don't leave a spot for them in the bunks, and they don't talk about the months-old letters that finally showed up a few weeks ago.

At least they know they're alive. Doesn't do anything to help morale though, especially not when forts are still going down every day.

He can't even remember the name of the kid who introduced himself this morning and went down in the afternoon. It makes him feel sick.

"You need a drink, and then you need to sleep." Dougie says with finality. "Be right back." He stands, headed towards the bar.

Ev taps a rhythm on the table, and his attention is drawn across the room again at a loud cheer and more laughter. This time, he sees Marie on her feet, drink in hand, a little unsteady on her feet. Her usually perfectly coiffed hair is a little loose and untidy, and something about the distant look in her eyes puts him on edge.

It's none of your business, he tells himself. But then there's some guy there. Some guy is there and leaning into her space, and he either can't see the way she leans far in the other direction, or he doesn't give a shit, and he Ev can't really stand it anymore.

He doesn't want to be here anyway, so he might as well use this as an excuse to get gone, even if it's going to get him yelled at.

His feet are moving before he can think too hard about it, and then he's there, inserting himself. "Steady on, Fernandez," he says quietly, getting her attention. "You all right?"

Her eyes narrow at him. He thinks it's just instinct at this point.

"Fine. Long day. You, Major?"

"Going to call it a night. Might want to think about doing the same, yeah?"

She makes a face. "I just got another drink!" She protests. "From my new friend--" She looks up at the other man, eyebrows furrowing.

"Carmichael." He supplies. "Tom Carmichael."

"Tom." She parrots, and Ev tightens his jaw.

"Uh huh. Look, when's the last time you got any sleep, huh? I'm headed that way with Dougie, we'll walk you--"

"Do you remember that you're not the boss of me?" She asks primly.

Christ. "Yes. You made it really crystal clear."

"Good. So leave me alone, and I'll decide when it's time for me to go to bed."

He knows it's not his place, and he truly doesn't want to overstep. Now that he works more closely with her, he's tired of the constant bickering, but something just doesn't sit right with him, leaving her here like this. It's out of character for her to be in her cups, and even though she deserves it, he doesn't like it.

"Maybe you should listen to Major Blakely, Marie?" Tatty asks quietly from beside her. "It's been a long day."

Marie watches her friend and her face softens, just a fraction. It changes her so completely, Ev is almost taken aback by it. He’s only seen glimpses of her like this.

It makes something protective rise up in him again when he sees Tom lean in.

“We’ll finish our drinks and I’ll see her back.” He says with a tone of finality.

It’s not Ev’s place. It’s not, and so he holds up his hands. “Alright. Not a hair out of place, Carmichael.” His tone is genial, but he means it.

He meets Douglass back at their table. He accepts the beer handed his way and takes a long swig, trying to ignore the feeling that’s taken residence in his gut.

.

An hour later and he can barely keep his eyes open. The band is still going, but the crowd is petering out, and he’s on his feet ready to head to bed.

He’s halfway out the door when he sees her and stops in his tracks.

Marie is alone at the table, an empty glass in front of her. Her chin is in her hands and she looks half asleep. She’s watching the few couples still on the dance floor with a tiny smile and he can’t help but walk over to her table, taking a seat to her left.

“Good night?”

She blinks at him. “Yeah. It was all right.”

“Time to go, Fernandez. You’re running yourself ragged.” His voice is serious, hoarse with exhaustion.

“Speak for yourself,” she says with a raised eyebrow. Her words are slow from drink and the glassy look in her eyes makes his stomach clench.

“You’re going to bed if I have to carry you there myself, Marie.” He says quietly. “You deserve a break.”

She sighs. The fight leaves her. “Fine. Walk me? You can hold this.” She shoves her purse in his direction and then she’s on her feet before he can protest.

The night air is blessedly cool when they emerge, a low fog dragging itself across the fields and runways. She stops, eyes closing for a second. “It’s almost beautiful like this.” She says.

He hums. “You know what else is beautiful?”

She turns to him, surprised, a blush working its way across her cheeks.

“My bed.” He says firmly. “Those cotton sheets, my shitty, flat pillow…” He laughs at the look on her face, at the way she thought he was going to say something else.

And he could have - he could have made it obvious that he was watching her admire the sight before them instead of taking it in himself, he could have told her that he’s noticing more and more about her lately and that she’s never lovelier than when she’s yelling at him.

But he won’t. Because tomorrow isn’t guaranteed, and he won’t do that to her. Or to himself.

“I’ll remember that, Major.” She says, walking ahead of him.

He catches up to her, slinging one arm around her shoulders, her exasperated sigh and his chuckles following them all the way back to her billet.

[scorpiusmalfoylovesoscarwilde]

headcanon that scorpius was a sick child and was in and out of hospital constantly, perhaps related to astoria's blood curse but not directly. his immune system isnt very strong, and everytime he gets sick they're terrified that it's the blood curse but also whatever else it could be, because it's always so sudden and so intense and they call healers over to the house who recommend this delirious feverish 4 year old is hospitalised immediately, and you'd think it'd get easier to some extent because they'd be used to it, but everytime they feel like this is it, this is the time he'll walk in to the hospital and not walk out again

[trislosherfan25]

I feel so much more tormented than my other trans friends ngl