#And the company itself barely wants to pay me

[oops-prow-did-it-again]

This is what I mean when I say I love my job but it pays fucking nothing. Make no mistake, active time might be the time on a delivery, but Dash Time is the full amount of time I am busy D**rd*shing. It may include me getting ready for work or pausing for lunch, but that's all still WORK to me because I'm exclusively doing things while I work!! Even if I'm being generous and shave off an hour from my Dash Time to say I worked 4.25 hours, this is still only ~$10.25/hr, well below the minimum wage here.

I don't understand why people think it's unacceptable not to tip in a restaurant, but when i get in my own fucking car and use my own fucking gas to deliver expensive ass food to them that suddenly they don't need to tip.

I only stopped when I did today because I ran out of declines (you can only decline 1 order per hour on D**rD*sh when using earn by time) and you can only unassign so many deliveries now, bc if your completion rating falls under 90% you can be deactivated. Mine was 93% and would've dropped it an entire %, and they wanted me to go 18 fucking miles (1 way!!) to deliver something that I could almost guarantee didn't have a tip. It probably would have COST me money to deliver that order.

[laughingfcx]

3+1: THREE TIMES MEGUMI GIVES YOU SOMETHING, AND ONE TIME YOU RETURN THE FAVOUR.

megumi, water :: it's hot — thirty-five degrees, to be exact, and of course you've forgotten to bring water, and the only canteen nearby only takes cash, no change. in short: you're melting.

you're draped over a lunch table, cheek pressed against the cool (but rapidly warming) metal. oh, what you'd do for a drink right now—

suddenly, you can hear footsteps behind you, coming closer with each passing second.

hi, megumi. you can tell it's him without even looking.

hi yourself, he replies, slipping into the chair next to you. a small bottle of water is slid your way; he does not look at you, but the gesture speaks for itself.

thank you.

don't.

don't what?

don't thank me.

you've had this conversation a million times before.

just because we're best friends doesn't mean you have to—

i do it cause i want to, okay? he turns to you, annoyed. all you can think about is how pretty he is.

megumi, company :: frat parties are scary. you don't know why you're here; nobara and maki have already disappeared too. it's packed, sweaty, scary. you squeeze through the crowds to climb out of a window and escape the heat. you know you can't leave until you find your friends, though, so for now, sitting on the dewy grass in the backyard will have to suffice.

megumi was right, you think.

don't go, he'd said, sprawled out on your bed, arms around one of the plush animals on your bed. it's tucked under his chin, and he looks adorable.

why not? you'd asked him.

it's not worth it, he scoffed. couldn't pay me a billion yen to go.

you should've listened—

can i say i told you so?

megumi?

he ignores you; or are you gonna start crying? you definitely—

you launch yourself up from the ground into his arms, laughing. i thought you said you weren't gonna come!

i had a feeling this'd happen. the slightest hint of a smile graces his lips. couldn't leave my favourite alone now, could i?

what? say it again, i think i heard wrong.

his smile widens; he shakes his head.

megumi, power bank, his heart ? :: my phone's dying, you sigh.

no response.

my phone's dying, you repeat, louder.

say please. he's desperately fighting a losing battle, the corners of his lips twitching.

please, megumi, give me the power bank!

you snatch it greedily from his hands, connecting it to your phone.

no thanks?

thank you, megumi! you throw your arms around his neck suddenly, and he is glad that you cannot see the blush on his face.

megumi always carries power banks with him. it's a known fact by now; he always has one on him. meanwhile, your phone is always dying. what a coincidence!

or not.

because one day, you overhear him talking to yuji. you're not really listening, scrolling on your phone when you hear your own name.

it's only because of y/n that i need a backpack in the first place, megumi grumbles. otherwise, everything else fits on my pockets.

then don't? to yuji, the problem is easy to fix.

but they need it.

so?

megumi makes a grumbly noise in his throat; so cute, you think.

oh yeah, says yuji. i forgot you're horribly in love with them and everything you do is somehow connected to them.

oh.

they're here, by the way, he adds.

what? did they hear?

i don't know, yuji replies unhelpfully.

you barely manage to get your earphones in before they walk in.

you, flowers, chocolates, your heart ? :: today is the day. to say you're nervous is a huge understatement. your hands are shaking, palms sweaty, and you're shivering, even though it's not that cold. the flowers and chocolate wait patiently for you on your desk.

megumi, you say aloud to the empty room. megumi, i like you and—

fuck.

megumi, you begin again. i've liked you for a long time and—

who've you liked 'for a long time'? megumi looks mildly interested as he walks in. you always get kind of lonely around this time so i thought i'd come to hang out.

his voice is even, but you amidst the normal calm, you sense something controlled. like he's actually sad, or something.

no one!

yeah? he hums. i'm not buying it, but i won't push you.

fuck him! why does he always have to be this respectful? if he asked you, you wouldn't not have answered!

who gave you the flowers?

i bought them myself! you squeak.

he raises a brow at how high-pitched your voice is. for?

um.

you see the way he stiffens visibly, hand tightening around your doorknob. he swallows, and then, sorry for overstepping, y/n.

no!

what?

you're not overstepping, you tell him. you have every right to know. we're best friends, right?

... right, he responds, but there's something missing; he's clammed up, retracted into himself. his voice is forced into not showing any emotion, and he's backed away a little bit from you.

your heart breaks at the sight.

megumi, i like you!

you're shitting me, he replies.

no, really! also, i hope you don't mind, but a few weeks ago i heard yuji and you talking, and he said something, and—

stop talking, he murmurs. i want to kiss you.

megumi has never been greedy. be selfish, gojo's told him. he's never listened — he's had no reason to, after all. yet... right now, he understands. it's all he can think about — getting something he wants, getting it now.

when he makes his way back to you, all he can think of is how kissing you will feel. when he is kissing you, he realises that he wants this forever. so he lets himself be a little selfish, and tells you he loves you, and asks for the one thing he'd thought he'd never have — you.

new freaky writing style LOL only for this one though... also 3+1 because im lazy and sad and unmotivated. also grammatical errors highkey & im sorry.

[lavendermin]

Stop, about the Mimi being protective of pregnant reader....I imagine it carried out even when the baby was born...like when rhe baby is in bed giggling and Mimi circles around them then growl when jy wants to see his baby..I also think mimi would take the baby w her and JY and reader was STRESSED when their baby is gone only to find their baby fell asleep in the warmth of Mimi🥹

You’re so right 100%

Jing Yuan is often busy so your company mostly consists of Mimi for most of the time and the few regular faces you’ll see at the estate. And now that you’re pregnant, Jing Yuan takes extra precaution appointing several of his most entrusted contacts to keep you safe when he isn’t by your side.

cw | pregnancy, suggestive

Who would have known that Mimi, the majestic white lion, who was at first mostly indifferent to you is now suddenly glued to your side like a needy lap cat. And you could only pinpoint this shift in behavior with the progression of your pregnancy.

You started noticing the small shifts two months into your pregnancy. Mimi would follow you from room to room when Jing Yuan wasn’t around. Its icy blue eyes would bore into those who came to speak with you, a little guarded. But Mimi was intelligent—Jing Yuan had expressed this himself to you on many occasions since knowing him. It would not harm anyone that wasn’t a true threat.

When someone asks to feel your belly, Mimi will make a low rumbling sound as a threat. Still, early on it’s no problem and it’s a little situation you easily dispel with comforting assurances and scratches behind Mimi’s ear.

It only becomes a bigger issue when you’re about five months into the pregnancy. Jing Yuan has just come back from a rather long expedition for official business—forty-six days to be exact. And his heart is light with the notion that he finally gets to hold his lovely wife, so wonderful and pregnant, for the first time in weeks.

“My love, it’s good to see you back safe and sound,” you greet, hobbling over from where you were resting on the couch with Mimi obediently at your feet. You look positively radiant like this, your tummy rounded with his child and your body soft and glowing.

Strange, Jing Yuan thinks as he removes some of his armor and regalia. It isn’t lost on him how Mimi follows closely by your side, almost supporting you as you walk to make sure your balance is ensured.

“Ive counted the days until I could see you again,” he grins, hand settling on your hip.

As he leans in to properly greet you with a kiss, Jing Yuan is nudged away. Rather forcibly, he might add. Mimi huffs as it wedges itself between yourself and the general.

“Snow Lion,” he commands with a look.

Mimi looks away with an annoyed flick of its tail, unmoving and nudging your hand to pet its mane. Usually Mimi is well-behaving and certainly well-trained. You can’t help but laugh and bend down to place a smooch to the top of the lion’s mane.

“Husband, I do believe little Mimi is a tad upset you left me alone for so long.”

“This hasn’t been a problem before, so it should not pose an issue now,” he ponders, a little bewildered.

After a few affections and sweet words from you all is well and Jing Yuan is able to properly dote on you like the starved man he is. Well…not without Mimi in the same vicinity as you both catch up over dinner and a stroll through the gardens.

That same night poses another issue. With your soft body under his rough hands, Jing Yuan is eager to please you tonight to make up for lost time while he was away. He’s barely gotten you worked up with desperate kisses and heated touches when he hears it.

Scritch. Scritch. Scritch.

At first, he pays it no mind. Eager to see you fall apart and taste you on his tongue again. It’s you who halts his advances as you break a kiss with a chuckle upon hearing the scratching again and a few low rumbles.

“Love, I think Mimi wants to come into the room,” you mutter against his lips. Jing Yuan sighs, burying his face in your shoulder.

Though he’s painfully hard and just wants to ravage his pregnant wife, he relents and throws on a robe to open the chamber door. The white lion wastes no time walking over and onto the bed, curling up next to you.

“My bed and wife taken over by my own lion,” he sighs, crossing his arms as he watches the lion purr contently against you.

It becomes a regular habit that you unfortunately spoil Mimi with. Your baby is quite fond of Mimi’s purring after all and likewise Mimi is fond of feeling the baby’s kicks.

Jing Yuan is still luckily spared the ability to love you how he wants when time allows but not without your coaxing Mimi that everything is ok and to stand guard at the door instead. At the very least, you have one more form of protection. He has to convince himself of this at least when he sees you fast asleep against Mimi when he returns late some nights. He’s nonetheless fascinated that such an intelligent creature has found instinct in protecting someone who is expecting. Perhaps luck truly favors the bold.

In the months that follow, your baby is born without issue and Mimi is still just as overprotective if not more of the newborn. Surely it understands that your daughter is a frail cub that cannot be left to the elements. And perhaps it’s due to Mimi’s constant purring against you during your pregnancy, but whenever your daughter begins to whine or cry Mimi will diligently lay near her and purr gently to soothe the baby.

And it works. Every time.

You’re almost a little shocked.

And of course, when Jing Yuan goes to check up on your daughter Mimi will growl defensively. It will never act on it, no. He isn’t a threat.

It’s more of a warning. Ensure this cub’s safety or else.

“Snow Lion, she needs to be fed. These worries are not good for your heart,” he scolds without much bite to his words as he rocks the infant gently, formula bottle in hand.

(I do like to think that since Jing Yuan canonically now refers to Mimi as Snow Lion upon discovering it’s a lion, you will prefer to use Mimi because you think it’s cuter. The lion definitely shows more biased response to you using Mimi because of your coos and affections.)

It’s all well and good until the day your daughter goes missing (for like a solid five minutes in the estate). She’s missing from her crib in the few minutes it took for you to grab a new change of clothes for her as you got ready to give her a bath. You immediately call for Jing Yuan since she’s nowhere to be found in the nursery or your room. She’s disappeared along with the blanket she was in.

And somehow Jing Yuan gets the immediate suspicion the lion is somehow involved when he notices Mimi’s absence from your side. He remains calm.

“What time is it, my dear wife.”

“Wh- it’s a quarter past noon. What–”

Jing Yuan takes your hand with a reassuring smile and leads you across the estate to one of the main sun rooms overlooking the garden. It’s where the afternoon sun filters just right through the large glass windows and thin curtains—Mimi’s favorite sunbathing spot.

And no doubt, the lion is there, curled up against the sun’s rays as they filter warmly into the room. Your daughter is bundled up and gently laid upon a little nest pile of blankets within the warmth of the afternoon sun. She sleeps soundly, small hand clutched tightly around a lock of Mimi’s mane.

You both sigh in relief. It certainly isn’t a conventional babysitter, but Mimi is nothing if not intelligent and loyal.

[rqgnarok]

Hello! I loved your Jamie Tartt angst and would love more angst that leaves you hurt but resolves itself (I’m too mushy for things ending at angst) maybe self sabotage? I feel like season two Jamie would be good at that since he does want to be better but doesn’t fully believe in himself. Or Jamie is still into Keeley and reader likes Jamie and is icing out Jamie to protect their self? Literally anything there is a Jamie angst deficit 😩 mwah <3

hi anon! sorry it took me so long, school and then writer's block kicked my ass. full disclosure, i didn't read this after i wrote it so sorry for any mistakes! enjoy <3

“Thought you left.”

You close your eyes in despair, thankful at least that Jamie can’t see you. You’d been sure your escape had been a subtle one but here he was– the very person you were trying to avoid following you to the balcony on the less crowded side of the restaurant.

You didn’t think he’d notice. He hadn’t yet– looked at you or talked to you since he came into the team event with Keeley wrapped around his arm, looking gorgeous and worthy of his attention. She had smiled at you, genuinely happy to see you, which made this whole thing entirely more ridiculous. 

You’d thought this was a date. After replaying the interaction between you and Jamie for the umpteenth time, you’ve come to the conclusion that your own excitement blinded you to the reality of it all. When Jamie had asked, all nonchalant without making eye contact, if the PR team would be at the annual team dinner in a non working capacity, you’d let yourself imagine something you couldn’t have only to be left a fool. 

Well. Here you are now, paying the price.  

“Just needed a second,” you try to sound like there’s a smile gracing your lips despite how close you are to tears, but won’t look back to meet Jamie’s eye. He settles at your side soon enough, hands in the pockets of his suit while yours remain gripping the railing, hoping for a full breath that just won’t reach your lungs. “There’s a lot of people in there.”

“You don’t have to be nervous,” he says, hitting the nail on the head regarding your anxiety in crowded places. There’s a reason you work behind the camera, making other people look good while getting to stay away from the limelight. “It’s just the team, right? You’re okay with us.”

You can’t help but agree, even if it sounds a little miserable. “Yeah.”

Jamie doesn’t follow up and you find yourselves enveloped by the silence and the sounds of the street life underneath you. Cars passing by, people chatting and talking, the whistle of the air as it threads through your clothes and bites at your skin. 

“Are you cold?” he asks when you shiver, shifting to take off his jacket and wrap it around your shoulders. You really wish he wouldn’t, stopping him before he can.

“I’m fine,” your voice betrays you and breaks, and you don’t have to look at Jamie to know he’s looking at you now, urgently searching for a sign of discomfort. “I’ll go back in a minute, yeah? I’m right behind you.”

“I don’t mind,” he says, surer than anything else he’s said so far. There’s a steel to his voice now that he’s realized you’re not fine at all, willing to protect you even from yourself. “I like keeping you company.”

“Jamie–” 

“Are you alright?” you have to, you have to look at him, and there’s a furrow to his brow that frames his face so, so nicely. Eyes wide and concerned, one of his hands leaves his pocket to reach for you. He says, softer. “You’re crying.”

“Am not,” you say peluntantly, because you’re not. Not yet at least. You’re cold and tired in your fancy attire and fancier shoes, but you’re not crying. You won’t until you’re in the safety of your apartment, away from the people who care about you. “I’m okay, Jamie, please go back inside.”

“Love,” he says knowingly, tilting his head. His searching hand, after a moment too long of hesitation, touches your cheek. He’s frowning still. You wish he didn’t look so handsome doing so. “We’ve barely talked tonight. I was hoping…”

He drifts off when a loud laugh from inside catches him off guard, quickly retreating back to himself and digging his hand back into his pocket, taking a step back from you. 

It’s such a terrible sequence of events in such a short amount of time that it makes you laugh, a sharp sound that surprises Jamie as much as it seems to hurt him. “I–” he begins, then cuts himself off. 

It dawns on you that this might not be the first time Jamie has been rendered speechless, but it is the first time you’ve seen him scared. 

“It’s fine,” you say. And it’s not. It’s not, but– “I’ll see you later, okay?”

You turn back into the night and wait one, two, five arduous seconds in which Jamie doesn’t seem to know what to do with himself before you hear his steps begin to retreat. Breathing out, you think the worst is over until he speaks, “you look beautiful tonight.”

He stutters. “Always, y’know, but tonight. You do. You do.”

“Can we… can I see you? Before you go?” he wonders.He calls your name when you don’t take the bait, frustration coating his tone. “Come on, I’m tryin’ here, sweetheart. What do you want from me?”

“Nothing,” you say, soft, so soft you’re sure he doesn’t hear it. “Nothing, Jamie.”

“Okay,” he says. Then– “I’ve been tryin’ to ask you out for over a month and you won’t let me.”

You want to be angry, but the statement only makes you sad. “Go back to your date.”

Jamie splutters in disbelief. “What?”

“Keeley’s probably wondering where you are,” it sounds accusing even to your own ears, and you hate it. You never intended to get him into trouble or bother him with your feelings for him. “Go back to your date, Jay.”

“That’s not– she’s not–” he blabbers. “Love, please–”

Isaac and Dani, drunk out of their minds, crash into the balcony to wrap their arms around Jamie, too out of it to notice your distress or that you’re even there. They call his name to the melody of Baby Shark, loud and basked in laughter. 

“Ayo, lover boy!” Isaac barks, wiggling his brows suggestively. “Your girl’s lookin’ all over for you! I think she’s ready to go home if you know what I mean.”

“Fuck off,” Jamie snaps, thoroughly upset but barely heard above Dani’s teasing ohhhhh. “Can’t you see I–”

You abruptly turn, barely sparing them a look as you excuse yourself meekly, voice wet and hushed. Jamie tries and fails to hold onto you, calling your name. You only feel the brush of his fingertips on your bare elbow as you escape his grip and leave him behind.

[stardancerluv]

A Space Journey

Part Two

Summary: New developments for Tyler. Reader and Tyler

Notes/Warnings: Mentions of fights in Tyler’s past. Esteem issues with Reader. Company induced angst with Tyler. Drinking. (Be safe and responsibly)

Runs long. It’s been writing itself. Ooh, he so deserved better.

❤️s, feedback, comments & reblogs are welcome!

Tyler, stood outside of the office. Opening and closing his hands, unease prickled him. The rain was particularly heavy today and he was more then happy to be out of it. He couldn’t imagine what they would want. He just had a very good salvage. They should be happy.

“Harrison, get in here.”

Turning sharply on his heal he went into the office. He bit the inside of his cheek when he saw a high ranking military officer and someone from the science office.

“You wanted to see me sir.” He kept his eye level straight. Just past the balding, company man that sat behind the desk and directed to to his salvages.

“Yes, Harrison. We’ve noticed you.”

The seat creaked as he sat back.

He felt his heart pick up speed.

“Me sir?”

The man nodded. “One of our bigger cargo ships has gone missing. It’s beacon recently came back online but no one is answering any of the coms we sent.”

The man gave an indifferent shrug.

“Perhaps, space pirates took it, raided it and killed the crew; we can’t be sure. But we want you to go and look into it.”

“When sir?”

“Fifteen days, Harrison.”

“If I may, depending on where it is why not send me now and perhaps I’ll come back faster then planned like with the Omega 17 salvage I just came back from.”

For a moment, a smug expression fell over his face. The pay day and his efficiency was superb. But he caught himself, and went back to a blank expression.

The man behind the desk chuckled.

“Told you guys, my boy is motivated.” The glanced at the two other men. “And he’s good. My best.” He gave him a smile. It made his stomach churn.

The military man stepped forward. “We believe, this time you will encounter hostiles.”

He pressed his lips together.

“Alright. I’ve never dealt with hostiles or anyone for that matter.”

“What about the few fights that led to a late night, dawn in one of the 4 by 10 rooms?” The man’s razor thin mouth cracked into a smirk that spread across his face.

This was beginning to sound like something he may not walk away from. He felt ill.

“Easy. You will get some training. You don’t get it, it doesn’t sink in before we need to ship out; we replace you.

“Hey, you said it would be my man we’re using.” The man behind the desk genuinely rankled.

Tyler never would have guessed that he cared one way or another.

The military officer shrugged. “My men will give you a rundown on how to handle yourself.”

“What about my crew?”

“Honestly? We are well aware of how important your family is to you, they can stay on the Corbelan IV, your cousin doesn’t need any help from us. Or we can give you a different crew.”

The man’s tone was as flat and as unforgiving as he looked.

“We don’t care as long as you accomplish what we want you for.”

“How’s the payout?”

The man behind the desk let out a chuckle. The military officer glanced down at him and back to him.

“If it all works out you will be able refit uthe Corbelan IV with the repairs its been needing and more.”

“Alright done.”

“Go to quadrant twenty seven at eight hundred hours tomorrow.”

********

Tyler, moved through throngs of people. Another miserable day in Jackson. His mind was a jumble. Did be really say yes?

“Baby want a good time?” Hand reached out, he grimaced and shook his head barely stopping.

He had to get out here. You all did. Damn, you had never even see anything else.

He was grateful, when he got to the Corbelan no one was there. He needed some time to think.

He plopped down in one of the chairs. It barely gave under his weight. But it would have to do. Looking out of the shuttered smudged window, he saw more dark clouds had rolled in bringing more rain.

He raked his fingers through his hair. He could do this. If he felt strong enough he’d bring the others along. How would he even explain using another crew.

He smirked to himself, at the idea of making some solid credit. They had wanted him. His eyes moved over the small sitting space. Grungy, cramped. Far too small. He rested a boot on the table.

Two small hands that had rough softness covered his eyes. A broad smile curled his lips.

“Guess who?”

He chuckled, tilting his head to one side. “My annoying sister.”

A peel of laughter came from above him.

“Guess again?“

“Oh! Oh! I know Navarro.”

“No!!!” You slipped to the side of him, hand on your hip.

“I knew it was you.”

He chuckled but as he looked you up and down, a smirk curled his lips. Damn. Even in your faded, torn company shirt and cargo pants you looked good.

“Looking good baby.”

You shrugged. “May I?“ Your eyes fell to his lap and back up to his eyes.

“Please.” He smirked pushing against the chair, it was unforgiving. So he could happily make room for you in his lap.

You easily made yourself comfortable. It relaxed him after what he had just gone through, good or bad. It had filled him with unease filled confidence if that was even possibly.

You wiggled more and then giggled.

“Tyler? Are you off world?”

Another giggle came from you.

His attention coming back to he rose an eyebrow as he saw you giving him a playfully serious look from under the shield of his cap. You were far too cute sometimes.

“Just the meeting I had.”

He made a face, mentally shrugging the feel off. He looked at you, cocking an eyebrow.

“Don’t think I didn’t notice.”

“What? Oh this?” You playfully placed your hands on his cap.

He motioned for it. “Give it back.”

“Nah, its comfy. I like it.”

He made a swipe for it. You avoided his hand and squealed.

Wrapping his arms around you he held you close. Easily snatched it off your head, pulled it onto his.

You were beginning to protest, when he dipped close and pressed his lips against. He felt a soft push before he felt you melt against him.

*******

Eyeing your reflection in the scrapped, mirror. You frowned. Even though the rain had let up and you all could walk to the bar with just ash and soot hanging in the air, your hair fell flat.

You had never been one to use taming spray. But it just looked so boring and dull. You had wanted to look good for Tyler.

Kay came bouncing up behind and gave you a tight embrace. You could smell the soft scent of the drinks she had been enjoying. She endearingly, pressed her head against yours.

“What’s the matter? Is my brother being insufferable?” Her eyes met yours in the mirror.

“No.” Your shoulders slumped. You patted her arms. “He’s great. I just don’t think I’m enough.”

She pulled back and turned you to face her. “What is this?” Her eyes were sharp with concern. “He adores you. I’ve never seen him so happy.” She chuckled. “So full of himself. He’s like I got the best so I am the best.” She smiled.

“Truly.”

“Yeah. I’ve never seen him so confident.” She looked playful. “If I didn’t like you so much, I would have pushed him out of the Corbelan long time ago.”

You smiled then. “If you say so.”

“I do.” She offered an arm. “Now, let’s get back out there! We have to get a few more dances in and have a few more drinks.” She gigglee.

“Yes!”

******

“One more.” He gave you a wink, taking the glass. “You gotta finish yours too.” His gestured to yours.

“Oh! I almost forgot.” You hopped onto the stool beside him, grabbing your own glass.

You glanced over at the small very jammed dance floor Kay was shimmying with some random blonde guy you once or twice saw in your sector of the mine. You had lost track of where Bjorn and Navarro were.

You looked back at Tyler in time to see him bringing the glass to his lips. In the hazy, warmth the drinks you had distantly made you jealous of the glass. Looking him over, you noticed how sweat prickled his dark strands, his cheeks were flushed and how he tilted his head back as easily drank the entirety of the glass.

A loud sigh came from him, slamming the glass down he wiped his mouth the back of his hand. “Ready?”

You nodded, happily taking his hand.

His hands were firm, as he held you to him. You fingers grazed through the shorter strands of where he shorn some of his hair. It was a wonderful contrast to the longer, soft strands.

You giggled softly as he leaned in close, his lips grazing your throat. He nipped at you. It made you wiggle against him.

“Man, I want you.” His voice rasped in your ear.

Moving just so. Loving how his scent enveloped the two of you. It pushed away the others or even the place.

“I will always be yours.” You whispered in his ear.

He pulled you even closer to him.

******

He rubbed his temples under the water beating down at him. He really shouldn’t have drank that much last night.

But then again, it was the night before the company owned more of him. He was doing this for you and the others. He had to keep telling himself this.

******

He swished the water and the paste in his mouth after scrubbing at his teeth. Might as well not look and smell like he had danced and drank the night away.

Going into the kitchen, he opened one of the containers and snatched up two blocks of the corn bread. Sighing, he munched on one. By the time he came back to his room. He placed the one he grabbed for you by the environment gauge and time giver.

Carefully, he pulled on his long sleeved, thermal shirt leaving the buttons undone, always felt strangled otherwise and then he pulled on a pair of his heavier socks. He looked back at you. He had wanted to tell you, more then he even wanted to tell Kay or Bjorn but right now, he couldn’t he had to get the feel of things.

A soft sound came from you, still asleep as you moved and settled onto your back. You had snagged one of his shirts. Seeing you in it, made him smile.

Looking away, he reached out and pulled over his boots. Another soft sound came from you. Maybe he should leave a note, but you and the others knew how sometimes he would leave early if he had a good lead on a new salvage. But this was different. He chewed the inside of his cheek.

“Tyler?” Your voice was soft, still heavy with sleep and he felt your hand on his back.

He put on a brave face, a winning smile

“Hi sleepy.”

“You are already leaving?”

He nodded. “Got to.”

“Ok.” He felt your hand leave his back. He shuffled a bit to face you more.

You looked back at him.

“Look you trust me right?”

You nodded.

“Good.” He chuckled softly. “Look I got some good things ahead. I promise.”

You pressed your lips together. “Good. Just be safe.”

“Me? Always.” He pointed at his table. “Look, I even nabbed your favorite. The corner of the corn bread.”

You smiled then. “Thank you.”

“Nothing but the best, I can give.”

You moved fast and hugged him tight. You tucked in under his chin.

“Baby?“ He without hesitation hugged you back.

“Had a nightmare.”

He squeezed you. “Nothing will get me.”

He felt as you nodded.

“Now you are one that’s gotta to be safe in the mine today.” He rubbed your back. “Take a tablet before you head out, to clear your head. I’ll get us some good rations for tonight.”

*******

A few hours in, sweat was running down his face. He rubbed his forehead with his arm. They prodded him, pricked him to draw his blood. Now, he was hooked up to something and he was running on some kind of device; it beeped in time with the beat of his heart. He could not wait to get back to you and the others.

[leeofthevoid]

Cold-Blooded Beings- Part 1

Farleigh Start x Reader

a/n: Hey guys this is a multi-chapter thing, a little series I suppose and I'm excited to map it out. Hello! Had a few comments that wanted it changed to Y/N and I got you! Please let me know if I missed a few but I tend to not use the assigned name I did before. Just tell me if you guys also want some name specific Fic for you so I can make one shots! Big thanks to the people who pointed good stuff out!

Warnings: Mentions of Alcohol, Strong language

Word Count: 1777

|| Part Two, Part Three, Part Four, Part Five

Money Makes The World Go Wild

Oxford was a dream come true. It was so difficult to actually get into the school without the help of your family’s wealth and earn your place, it was rewarding to finally get into it. 

It wasn’t until dinner time when you felt big arms wrap itself around your shoulders while you ate. “Look who we have here. N/N L/N.” What the hell? This voice was unrecognizable. What does this guy want with you? “I’m sorry um…Did I do something wrong?” The man looked confused and chuckled. “Y/N , it’s me Felix? Felix Catton? Cry Baby Fee?” 

You jolted back in surprise and your face turned from a slight scowl to surprise. You didn’t hesitate to jump and wrap your arms around him. “Fee! Holy shit you’re so big now! I barely recognized you!” You both laugh heartily as you pour out your happiness in the embrace. “How I miss you, I miss you so.” You pulled back to pepper his face with kisses and finally sat back down on your seat, huge smiles still plastered on your faces. “You’re so big now Fee! I can’t believe you’re the same little boy I had to carry when you scraped your knees.” Felix cringed slightly at the story but still smiled his heart out. “Well yeah, I’m not the little boy Catton you used to know. It’s so nice to see you N/N. Venetia would be so happy know you go here.” You pause and look around the dining hall looking around for the other Catton sibling. “Speaking of, where is she?” Felix leaned on the table and sighed, “Went to Cambridge in fear that I would ‘ruin’ her university experience.” It was so like Venetia to say that and you admired how they seemed to barely change. 

You ended up talking through dinner time about how you got into Oxford the way your family always went in. Felix teasing you about your strict family. How you both grew through the years and realized how you missed each other’s presence ever since your father threw you to Switzerland to attend boarding school after your last summer in Saltburn. You both exchanged numbers and a promise to Felix that you will for sure hangout with him and his friends. With a goodbye embrace that was too long for other people, you parted ways. 

It was hard being a Teacher’s assistant. When you settled after a few months into your summer term, your professor offered for you to help him tutor his students which you gladly agreed to for extra credit. You were now stuck in the room with Mr. Ware, this shy scholar kid named Oliver Quick, and another empty seat that the other student seemed to miss every session. It’s their fifth absence now. Oliver was in the middle of reading his essay out loud when you decided to take a quick bathroom break, waking up your professor in the process to at least pay attention to the poor guy. After a few minutes out, you’re met with a new person chatting with the tutor and Oliver sits back quietly. You got a better view of the new presence and saw a nice head of curly hair, fashionable clothes, and…No way. “Farleigh?” 

Oliver and Farleigh look up at you from the door and his eyes widen. “ Oh my god N/N!” He stood up and scooped you in a tight hug. Man, these Cattons sure love their hugs. “I thought Felix was fooling us when he mentioned a special childhood friend in Oxford.” He gently puts you down and backs away to sit next to Oliver again. 

“My, my. A L/N and a Catton? Oliver, you have quite the company.” Your Professor stated. You saw Oliver slowly back up in his chair more, feeling a tinge of pity for the guy. “Let’s start over, Sir. I believe we all have limited time.” You chime in. You all sat down and proceeded to listen to the essays Oliver was abruptly cut off. His work was too robotic and a little…Boring? You can’t help but try to wake the other two people up from time to time to at least alleviate the embarrassment Oliver had. When Oliver finally finished, you cleared your throat, signaling for Farleigh and Mr. Ware to at least look alive. Mr. Ware shared his thoughts and you did too, “I believe there was a lack of something in it, Oliver. I’m sure you’ll be able to revise it better so don’t worry too much.” Farleigh snorted at your kindness and blatantly told him the truth. It was a tensioned back and forth that you’d much rather not be apart of but what can you do? Farleigh was right but so was Oliver, you looked at Mr. Ware and he simply shook his head. “So! We had quite the session today, lads. Oliver, please take note of the changes Ms. L/N will send you, and Farleigh please write your essay too. Um…Send anonymous regards to your mum too please?” Farleigh winks at him and gives you a kiss on the cheek before he leaves the room. Oliver soon made a beeline out of the room and you followed after getting a few tasks from Mr. Ware.

After a few days, you came across Oliver walking alone through the courtyard. “Hey, Oliver!” He quickly looked around for the source and saw you waving at him. “Oliver! Fancy meeting you around and not in the office.” You smiled at him as you put out your hands out to shake. He took it and gave you a shy smile, “Ollie is alright. Y/N right?” You nodded. “So sorry about Farleigh, he always had a sharp tongue ever since we were kids, can I buy you a few drinks to apologize?” 

“No, no, c’mon now Y/N it’s not your fault. Why are you doing this?”

“Because I want to. I don’t need a reason to treat a friend out?” You smiled at him as he fiddled with his jacket deep in thought. “I suppose you it wouldn’t be bad…” You smiled again “See you later at the pub then. You know where right? Bring your friends Ollie!” Oliver hurriedly walked away with a small bounce of excitement as you slowly backed away bumping into something…Or someone. “Running a charity case, love?” Farleigh chuckled. You look up at him and roll your eyes with a slight smile. “Don’t be mean Far, I just thought he was a decent person to befriend.” 

“And where is Farleigh’s invite then?” He wrapped his arm around your shoulder as you both walked. “Since when did you grow so mean? I remember you jumping up and down whenever I complimented you more than Felix.” Farleigh groaned at the memory as you laughed. “You know, being the oldest out of all of us had its perks, such as carrying both you and Fee when you were both so tiny! I felt so big next to you! Now look at you towering over me.”

“N/N, you sound like an old lady reminiscing about her children’s lives, I don’t miss that at all. If you’re coming to the pub with that bore of a person, come by at our table yeah? I’d hate for you to be lonely.” You chuckled as he kissed your cheek to walk off into who knows what. 

The pub had a really good atmosphere for a place swarmed with people in their early twenties dying to have some semblance of relief from school. You would even argue that The King of Arms was a decent place to have a date, even dressed nicely to appease the people you’ll hangout with. One problem is that you never anticipated the fact that Oliver could probably have no friends. Well, he had one, Michael, but the thing about Michael is he seemed to be so absorbed in his genius that he never did care to let you or Oliver talk. As much as you appreciate the boys not ogling at you with the usual stares you get from wearing provocative clothing, it was kind of pathetic that they didn’t at least compliment you perhaps? 

You excused yourself to get another round of drinks, on you of course. It kind of put you in a bit of a damper mood when Michael didn’t even acknowledge it, at least Oliver did but it still sucked. You approached the Barkeeper to bring you three pints of Pale Ale which he kindly nodded to. “What’s a pretty lady like you doing with losers like them?” You chuckled and looked up at the figure slowly sliding their hand on your waist. “Farleigh.” You lightly warned with a smile, “Cut them some slack. It’s probably their first time going out with people. I was like that when I started my summer term.” Farleigh simply rolled his eyes at your kindness thinking it was stupid. You notice how he seemed to still tower over you and that was something since you weren’t exactly short, five foot ten to be exact. You even had heels on for goodness sake! When did this small tiny boy grow so tall? 

You snap out of your trance when the door dings. You turned and saw Michael’s retreating figure, turned and checked the table you were occupying and found no signs of Oliver. Great, you just got ditched. “So…About my offer?” Farleigh’s tone was teasing and you can’t help but give in. With a sigh and a defeated huff you give in. “Fine Far, you win. What about the stuff I ordered?” 

He scoffs, “Thank you for buying me some, you’re a doll.” Farleigh says in a sarcastic manner, picks up the tray and brings it to the table while dragging you with him. You notice Oliver’s shy figure sitting beside Felix as Farleigh pulls a chair out for you. Paying no mind to the boy who just walked out of your table, you greeted everyone with a cheery expression even earning some wolf whistles from the guys sitting with you. “Y/N will apparently buy two rounds of drinks for us.” Farleigh teases. Everyone cheered making you roll your eyes at him. At least you get to use that allowance your dad finally said you earned.

After some time on the table, it still pissed you off that Oliver ditched you, he even avoided eye contact with you while talking to Felix. It’s alright, everything will be okay and you should just let this instance slide, you say to yourself. It was just an apology drink from Farleigh’s mean outburst and the subject of the event was right next to you making out with a girl on his other side. Don’t you just love university?

Next

[homelanderbutbig]

My Hero (G/T Homelander x Reader)

1082 words. Pure fluff. Homelander is 8 feet tall. Reader is non-descriptive. Established relationship.

The first time you went to Homelander's cabin.

This is the first time Homelander's invited you to spend the night at his cabin. You know that him even asking you to come with him is something special as his cabin is the place he goes to get away from the rest of society. It was a pretty sudden question too, as he asked you the second you entered his penthouse after your evening shift. In fact, he didn't even give you time to pack your pajamas as he was already scooping you up into his arms to fly off the balcony.

A few minutes later he touches down hard in the middle of a dense forest, causing leaves to float up all around him from the force of his impact. As you begin to regain your bearings, you try and grasp where exactly you landed. The area is pitch black, with the foliage blocking out the moonlight from above. The only sounds you can hear are a few crickets chirping in the distance, and the crunching of leaves under Homelander's feet while he walks. You're still held tight in his arms, so close to his chest that you barely even see the outdoor lights illuminating his secluded hideaway's exterior.

The cabin itself is dimly lit, with a chandelier being the only source of light inside. It's a challenge to make out any of the interior decorations, though it's impossible to ignore the sheer size of the furniture. Similarly to his penthouse, everything in the cabin had to be built oversized, larger than life, just for the supe who towers over everyone.

When he finally releases you to the ground, he stands silently in place waiting for you to break the ice. Entertaining company is not a type of situation where he has much experience, and he's already fairly stressed from his exhausting day being paraded around by Vought. He wants you to tell him what to do, or at least what you want to do.

You decide to start exploring the cabin's main floor, sauntering over to the massive couch where you expect to spend the majority of the evening. Directly in front of the couch is a fireplace, and you discover that it's already been prepped for a roaring fire with a hefty stack of logs. There is also a matchbox on the hearth, perhaps left behind by someone else. Picking up the box reveals that there are still a few matches inside, so you take one out and attempt to strike it. You aren't having much success, but you aren't giving up quite yet.

Wordlessly watching from the entrance, Homelander sees you struggle with your task. The more you keep failing, the more he can feel his own frustration growing. You're spending so much time on this activity that you've assigned to yourself; you aren't even paying attention to him. With a deep exhale and a roll of his eyes, he storms over and kneels down beside you. Before you can utter a sentence, he uses his laser vision to quickly set the the logs on fire.

As his lasers dissipate, he notices that you are frozen in place, hands halfway through another attempt at lighting the match. He feels a wave of anxiety constricting throughout his chest, and angles his head away from you. Did he go too far with his powers? He's scared you, he knows it. His abilities frighten everyone around him, even when he's restraining himself. If his powers are too much for other supes to handle, how could he have expected that you would be any different?

Suddenly, he feels your gentle touch caressing the side of his face, shaking him out of his compounding thoughts. When he looks back at you, there isn't even the slightest hint of fear anywhere on your face. As a matter of fact, you look… appreciative.

"Thank you for helping me Homelander," you compliment, your voice so easily soothing the self-inflicted scorches to his ego. "But…" you trail off, your words taking him hostage. But what? Did he do something wrong? Did he not do it to your satisfaction?

"But… you missed one sweetie," you remark, pointing to the one stray log in the corner of the fireplace, the only one not sporting a flame.

Oh.

He huffs a short laugh at that response, letting go of the breath he didn't even realize he was still holding. You see him start to smile from your sneaky little bait-and-switch reply as the uneasiness drains from his body. You're pretty sure that is the first time he's had a genuine smile on his face all day. Even if nobody else can tell his real smile from his 'in-public fake celebrity smile', you take solace in knowing you get to keep this secret all to yourself.

With the utmost precision, Homelander uses his laser vision to ignite the one log. He then turns back to you, waiting with a shy smirk for you to continue your praise.

"My hero," you giggle, readjusting yourself to your knees so you can give him a proper kiss. It really doesn't take much for you to have him wrapped around your finger, just a simple kiss and your hands on his cheeks. But those small acts speak a thousand words to a man who was neglected of that love his whole life. You hear him practically purring into your lips with each stroke of your fingers as he becomes enraptured by your affections. He's leaning closer and closer towards you until he finally just picks you up to place you on his expansive thighs. His hands are formed perfectly to your hips as you feel his big fingers rubbing along your back, a small gesture to return your own caresses.

Breaking from your kiss, you get the chance to look into his eyes, shining as radiant blue windows into his soul. He may have entered the cabin as a frazzled mess, but right now he completely relaxed. He is a mountain of a man that is putty in your hands.

"Hey, why don't we cuddle on the couch?" you say softly, nuzzling your forehead into his. "We'll have the perfect view of the fire."

Homelander nods as he hums happily at your request, knowing full well that your cuddle session also means he gets to have some head scratches too. A perfect ending to the evening, one that he hopes he gets to have again… the next time he invites you to the cabin.

[doubleddenden]

The topic of Palworld is pretty charged, but often times I see people be shamed for liking it because the CEO tweeted stuff about NFTs and the company using AI art in a separate game. Acting as if that's the most damning thing ever for a gaming company in an industry filled with similar people.

Make no mistake, I dislike both AI art and nfts, but do you realize how many gaming companies have involvement with that?

To begin with, Pokémon used AI art in a promotional piece for Pokémon Go in September, and nobody gave a shit because uwu Pikachu. The Pokémon Company also put a job listing some months back seeking an expert in NFTs. That's not quite damning evidence, but if I were a betting man, no "NFT expert" will willingly say "yeah nfts suck are bad for the environment, man, I'll take my paycheck and fuck off now." There's also a strong argument to be made that Pokémon has stolen ideas from fakemon artists (Finizen and Palafin, Scovillain, Dipplin, etc) and other franchises (kaiju movies, Dragon Quest, Megaman, final fantasy, western cartoons and food mascots, etc), a dubious legal statement that claims they own all fan art from the remixes and fakemon made on youtube to the pikachu your kid drew at breakfast; they have yet to apologize for the state of Scarlet and Violet while charging full price to millions of paying customers for a clearly unfinished and barely functioning game (which i did enjoy, but you can't tell me it was finished baking when it struggles not to shit itself just to run), and a bunch of other things people shit on Palworld for, but A. It's Pokémon so people don't care and think it's fine, and B. That's not the point of this post.

You know who else does NFTs and AI art? (Yes I heard Muscle Man from Regular Show in my head just now, too, moving along)

Square Enix sold several of their IPs for NFTs and claims to have used AI art "a minimum amount" in Foam Stars, yet I see nobody yelling for boycotts of Final Fantasy 14, 16, Kingdom Hearts, Dragon Quest, Life is Strange, etc etc etc.

Sony has invested in both, they want to implement AI into gaming, and has a patent for nfts to be used in games and consoles, yet there's no movement to throw out your playstations.

Bandai Namco- you know, that company with a hand in pretty much most anime games on the market and popular games such as the Dark Souls games? They have a game called RYU that's essentially a virtual pet game that uses the blockchain, and its AI driven, among other projects. Yet there's no outcry to stop playing the many, MANY games they brand with. This also includes quite a few Nintendo games (btw they just partnered together to form a special studio quite recently) like Smash Wii U/3ds and New Pokémon Snap. Nobody gives a shit though.

Android, Microsoft, Google, Apple- I don't even need to explain those, they have whole teams dedicated to both. Even popular VPN companies accept crypto.

I'm just saying an awful lot of you guys that scream and shit bloody murder about Palworld's company being involved with that shit are either the biggest "It's okay when my favs do it" type of hypocrites, or you're sorely ignorant to just how evil and greedy most corporations are. You'll be hard pressed to find a game company with popular AND fun games that DOESN'T have some interest in either, let alone movie and show studios. That's the awful reality we live in.

You have 2 options

1. You basically stop doing anything involving most modern tech, including throwing out your pc and smart phone. You could probably live a comfortable life with tech circa 2010, but you have to be aware that any thing you buy may go towards a cause you don't like.

2. You accept that people can enjoy a product while not necessarily agreeing with the CEO of said product. Most CEOs tend to be jackasses anyway, that's kind of the shared trait they all have. You can also discourage companies from using them while understanding it is everywhere.

Palworld at the end of the day is just a toy, that's it. From the looks of it, it's not even actually hurting anyone, and it seems like the company at least treats their employees pretty decently- at least according to a few things I've seen here and there that seems rather progressive for a Japanese studio (with room for doubt obviously, it's a company after all and as we've established, they're all evil). At the least its not like when people supported Hogwarts Legacy and directly put money into JKR's wallet so she can openly hurt more Trans women. In fact, the only people seemingly hurt in all of this Palworld drama are obsessed Pokémon stans that can't accept a parody, or the Pokémon Company themselves, who rightly deserve some punching up tbh.

You can just say you dislike the game, that's fine, I totally get that. Even though I personally think The Pokémon Company deserves a few nut shots after the way they've treated fans these last few years with the state of their games (and you know, stealing ideas from fans without credit), I can see why someone would be turned away from a parody that's literally meant to be Pokémon with guns. I can totally understand all of that, personally I'd prefer if the game was MORE like Pokémon with turn based combat.

But if you're going to defend Pokémon because you think its perfectly innocent because of Wooloo or something like that, just be sure you're aware you're defending the World's Richest Franchise and their own attempts at AI and NFTs while calling out an indie company (a real one thats learning as they go, not the fake "We're totally indie" franchise that hasn't been indie since gen 3) for having a ceo that also seems interested in the same stuff. And remember, you don't become number 1 without hurting people somehow (we could dig up receipts about certain partners Pokémon has teamed up with, such as Tencent with Unite, but I'd rather not right now.)

Just saying. I don't think you're an irredeemable person for still liking Pikachu, cuz I do too believe it or not. I've been a life long fan and still have fun with the games despite the clear scummy business practices towards their paying customers. Just maybe extend that courtesy to the millions of players just trying to have fun in this awful, putrid, shithole planet that just keeps getting worse and worse with each passing day.

Plus... you know, think about it. Do you think Pokémon would ever get around to making a gunless Palworld? Probably not. Do you think Palworld would exist if The Pokémon Company and Nintendo were the slightest bit chill about Pokémon fan projects like SEGA is with Sonic? Also probably not. From what I've read, the devs just wanted to make a fun game that happens to mostly be ARK with Pokémon adjacent monsters. That's not really a bad thing, all things considered, and it seems like the worst they've done is reference official Pokémon when making their own models.

Palworld being successful is actually beneficial to Pokémon fans, as well. It'll never really truly compete, but it has outsold Legends Arceus in terms of units sold (not as much financially because Palworld was only $30 plus a sale recently, but still impressive), and it is enough that Game Freak is aware of its existence. Let Palworld light a fire under their ass, and maybe GF will actually finish their next game before releasing it for full price (and no, we're not bringing up the tired imaginary ball and chain game devs, game freak owns 1/3rd lf the franchise and can easily take methods to get more dev time, they just haven't because money). Just saying, at least the Paldevs were honest enough to sell it in early access for half the price.

[asha-mage]

WoT Musing: Bits and Bobs from a book nerd

A few unsorted/random thoughts from a book mega nerd about various things in the show-

It's interesting to me that they changed Logain's innate talent from being able to see ta'veren to being able to see when a man can channel or not. This is practically probably because Mat was also in that scene, but I've also noticed that they've dialed back on the use of the term 'ta'veren' as a whole this season. Probably to avoid over cluttering all the concepts their having to introduce.

Elayne's desire to work with her hands/fascination with craftsmanship showing itself in her 'sparker trick' being a weave to make alcohol is very funny and on brand.

The show is continuing to walk out the small shifts in it's dynamics born of re-ordering things in a smart way. Everyone being slightly older was felt sharply in season 1: Mat's mischief and gambling is a whole lot less cute and a whole lot more worrying since he's no longer a teen, Perrin is married (like always intended to be) and settled as the most 'responsible' of the boys, etc. In season 2 Egwene arrived first instead of Elayne, and is the more experienced/knowing Novice, to Elayne's naive newcomer. As a result we get to see the slightly spoiled sweet girl she was before the Tower started to bust down her pride and teach her more about the world. She's a little more unsure, and a little more eager to make friends- both of which work in favor of showing off her strengths as a character, endearing her to both Egwene and the audience.

The choice to give Perrin the ability to see visions of the past with his wolf brother powers is interesting. I get that they need a visual way to express Perrin's wolf senses, and this is probably the most direct, since their's not a non-weird way to visually depict smell, but I hope we at least get a TAR related explanation from Elyas.

I find the use of the Crimson Thorn as a symbol of the Red Ajah and the cruel mercy that they grant to be fascinating. More over, I find Nynaeve's being pulled between the Red and Yellow Ajahs (something I suspect we are going to get more of) to be smartly done: Nynaeve has never been afraid of doing what needs to be done, but that doesn't make it easy, and Liandrin is right: to an extent that their always been a little bit of Red in her, a belief that the world would be better if everyone just followed her rules. And yet it is her compassion that defines her, that fuels her rage most of the time. Compassion for those hurt and sick and dying turns to rage against what caused it: a cruel world or a war or a sickness. Compassion for those she cares most for fuels her rage at those that would threaten, hurt, or control them. She left the Two Rivers to protect the EF5 and that remains her goal all the way to the series's end, her character arc is largely about accepting what that will mean, and learning not to be afraid to claim the power to do that.

I've said this in various other forms but it bares repeating: Lanfear really is winning right out the gate. She's got the hot new hardware LTT as her naive sugar baby, their is no one in sight to threaten her control over him with things like 'morals' and 'duty', and he's slowly succumbing to her influence. More then worth the price of having to run a small business in a slum I'm sure.

That said I want a 50k word fic that is just Lanfear's Adventures in Small Business Ownership. We know those drinks where over priced, but where they watered down? Did she have to pay a mortgage? Deal with uppity suppliers? Was their a Darkfriend Company Discount as Selene's Totally Normal And Not At All Evil Bed and Breakfast?

I have two nitpicks that are so minor they barely warrant discussion, and one is not even the show's fault. The first is that everyone keeps saying things like 'your powers' rather then 'strength in the power'. Jordan goes to so much trouble to make the point that people and objects don't have the power, they use it and strong in the power, and then Sanderson changed it to 'my powers' and 'how powerful he is' and *gargles*. This is like the peaches all over again.

The second is that as much as they nail the arches scene/ceremony, I wish they had gone the final mile and said 'Be steadfast'. It wasn't necessary exactly, but it's exclusion made me whisper under my breath, like a rhyme I just HAD to finish.

(This is completely normal and sane person behavior, stop looking at me like that internet stranger).

I don't have to much to say about Mat's story line beyond being VERY interested in where they are going tying him and Min together. I still needs to get off the ground for me to have more Thoughts.

Adeleas being Cringefail re: Lan is so funny to me in ways I can't quite explain.

I reiterate the point that since Rand's can't be Warder trained, giving him an old veteran blade master who is suffering from PTSD/Dementia was a VERY smart move that fits the feel of the books.

RIP Joshua's soft boy curls. You where a casualty of this war.

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

Am I the asshole for skipping out on shifts at my part-time job to finish university assignments?

I (27nb) work 20hrs a week as a customer service assistant at a supermarket to keep me afloat while I do my master's degree. Honestly, juggling both of them is fucking exhausting. I make it work most of the time, but I also have ADHD which puts me in the position of doing a LOT of last-minute work and all-nighters to keep up with deadlines, despite my best intentions and efforts.

A couple times now, I've found myself in a position where I have to make a choice: go to work that day, or stay home to finish an essay due tomorrow morning so I can submit it right down to the wire. As much as I REEEEALLY need this job to paying the bills and, you know, eat, it's ultimately just an interim thing for me - I mean, I do not want to get trapped in retail for the rest of my fucking life. That's why I'm doing this degree in the first place!! The degree and my future aspirations takes priority for me, so I fake sick and call out of work.

Now, I don't call out of work last minute for no reason — I don't do it just because I don't feel like it, or because I want to go out instead. (Not that I think that automatically makes me at all "better" than people who do — we're all wage cucks at the end of the day, abolish capitalism, etc etc — just to give the context that I'm not leaving my coworkers to pick up the slack for reasons that aren't related to either uni deadlines or genuine illness.) I'm no slouch when I'm at work either. I have no loyalty to the supermarket itself — I'm not gonna break my fucking back for a company that barely knows I exist — but I'll pull my weight so that my coworkers and I can all leave on time at the end of the night. All that to say, my coworkers and shift managers know I put the work in when needed.

I also DO like most of my coworkers. I don't love the work but my manager is decent enough, and I get along well with the team there. I honestly don't want anyone there to struggle or overwork themselves because of understaffing — which is getting to be more and more of an issue lately as we're literally hemorrhaging staff.

All that said — I don't regret putting my degree first, but I DO feel kind of guilty about pulling out from shifts last minute when I know we already don't have enough hands. Especially this most recent time, where I called in "sick" and discovered that I was the THIRD employee to call in sick that morning (😬😬😬). And my shift manager sounded REALLY fucking stressed about it. Oof.

So AITA for faking sick and leaving my coworkers short-staffed because of my own struggles to meet university deadlines?

(🐌 so I can find this later)

What are these acronyms?

[pascaloverx]

To Begin Again

TWELVE

Summary: You're a new teacher at a large and influential school. It's a risky step for you, as you've been running from your ex for almost two years. But when Dumbledore asks you to take on a class at the renowned Hogwarts, you can't refuse. However, your life as a newly arrived teacher won't be easy. Especially when the other teachers don't seem eager to make friends. Or rather, two teachers in particular: Sirius Black and Remus Lupin.

Author's Note: Welcome, dear readers. Please leave your comments if you enjoy fanfiction. This fanfic takes place almost in the real world (with the addition of werewolves) and is not a wizarding fanfic. There will be some differences and changes in things from the Harry Potter story or other fanfics in the HP universe, but I promise to do my best writing this fanfic. There will be a love triangle coming in this fanfic. So, dear readers, just as in this fanfic it's meant to imagine Remus Lupin as being Andrew Garfield and Sirius Black as being Ben Barnes, now I present to you the fancast of Severus Snape as being actor Enzo Vogrincic. Imagine him as Snape if you can.

ELEVEN THIRTEEN

A week later, things haven't improved. You managed to convince McGonagall that it would be best to change rooms, at least. The current issue is your emotional connection with Lupin. He feels too much, always intensely. For a man who barely expresses his feelings, he feels too much. And even by avoiding him physically, his feelings seem to have an absurd strength in reaching you.

"Are you sure this box isn't too heavy?" You ask Bellatrix, who as your new bathroom mate, is helping you with the move. McGonagall decided to switch you and Peter Pettigrew's rooms. So Sirius will have Peter as his next-door neighbor, and you'll have Bellatrix. It's better than having to avoid Mr. Black every day.

"I'm stronger than I look, sweetheart. I believe this is the last box. I said it would be quicker if I carried the boxes and you organized the room, right?" Bellatrix responds proudly, pleased to have been right. Thanks to her, you'll soon be able to go teach without worrying about organizing anything when you return to your room.

"Pay me back by coming over for a glass of wine tonight. They say it's good to have company for a nice wine on cold nights. What do you think?" Bellatrix says with a mischievous smile, and you can only think that drinking might help you forget your troubles.

"I think it's a perfect idea. I'll stop by your room later for wine," you say, kissing Bellatrix on the cheek. Strangely, she purrs when your face gets close to hers. She immediately kisses the corner of your mouth and leaves with a victorious smile. Unfortunately, you don't even have time to process what's happening in your life because you have to teach your students. So you rush towards the classroom.

The classroom has a distinct atmosphere. Ron and Hermione are sitting apart from Harry. Draco is relatively close to Harry. Pansy is sitting next to Luna. It seems different but not so bad. You had an idea of how your class would be. However, seeing your students like this, you thought of a more unique artistic dynamic.

"Today, we will work on ourselves. Before anything else, know that art resides within the artist. So everything you produce in this class will be a piece of yourselves. The main task is to create a painting that captures your essence. But before you worry about that, understand that the painting itself will be a project that will take several classes to complete. Today, we will focus on yourselves. I want everyone to think about something you like and something you dislike about yourself. One thing you admire about yourselves and another you despise. Does anyone want to start?" You ask the class of students in front of you, hoping someone will raise their hand and spare you from the awkwardness.

"I like being dedicated. Knowing more than most because I'm capable of it. What I don't like is how that can come across as arrogant or overly ambitious. I hate overthinking things." Not surprising anyone and saving you, Hermione Granger responds first. You look at her with pride, nodding as if to reassure your student that her account is important.

"I like how easily I can become attached to someone. Just give me a bit of affection and I can latch onto you. But unfortunately, I tend to develop expectations, and when those expectations are shattered, I become a mess," Ron Weasley opens his heart while holding Hermione's hand, as if she's supporting him, and looking towards Harry.

"I like being fearless. I enjoy adventuring, especially with my friends. And I don't like being aggressive, having a short fuse," Harry says, looking at both Draco and Ron, as if justifying his attempt to be less aggressive towards Malfoy. And so almost all the students went on pointing out what they liked and didn't like about themselves, until only Draco Malfoy was left.

"I like being better than most people I know. But I don't like the fact that it bothers me that feeling superior doesn't actually make me better," Draco admits reluctantly. You're pleased that he managed to share this. You speak to your students, observing them carefully as the school bell signals the end of your class. Everyone seems at least to be trying to take you seriously. As your students file out of the classroom for break, you begin packing up your things when you hear a knock on the door. Turning to look, you find Snape and Sirius standing side by side. Snape looks like a lost puppy who just found its owner, while Sirius appears genuinely furious.

"He wanted to speak with you, the one who helped him the day he lost his memory. Conveniently, now he has no idea what happened," Sirius replies sharply and straightforwardly, clearly in a bad mood. You understand that Snape is a risk for him, but the truth is, the Snape before you seems clueless about what transpired.

"I actually wanted to thank you. I have no idea how I ended up here or why I was in that forest, but I have a feeling you were the angel who saved my life. Right now, I'm going back to the United States to reclaim some of my life, and I wanted to say goodbye with my gratitude. Thank you so much, beautiful lady. If I ever come back here, you'll be the first person I visit." Snape speaks so passionately that it seems he has developed an extra fondness for you. Perhaps his heart holds more memories than his head. He catches you off guard by gently holding your face and kissing your cheek. Then he pauses in front of you for a few moments, gazing at you kindly. Before he can try to kiss you, Sirius pulls him back.

"I'm sure your brain hasn't forgotten basic manners. You don't just kiss someone like that, especially if you don't know if they're single. Can you imagine if you made the mistake of kissing her without her consent in front of her boyfriend? I think it's better if you show your gratitude by leaving." Sirius speaks impatiently and defensively, as if he were your boyfriend or something. Snape apologizes again, looking frightened, and quickly runs off. Clearly, he has lost his memory. Sirius would never scare him off like that if he were the Snape with memories intact.

"Expecting me to thank you for this is a waste of our time. Nice performance—it almost seemed like you were jealous, by the way," you say as you walk, followed by Sirius, who from your peripheral vision doesn't seem pleased at all.

"Were you going to let that repugnant man put his hands on you?" Sirius questions angrily, as if you were about to allow something horrible to happen.

"We both know what he did, but he doesn't. I wasn't going to let him touch or kiss me inappropriately. But that's hardly any of your damn business, Sirius. Go take care of your love life and personal affairs and leave mine alone." You turn, looking directly into Black's eyes, who huffs at your words. He's furious, but you don't care. You warned him that you wanted to stay away from him and Lupin.

"My love, it's hard to believe what comes out of your mouth when your eyes say you want me. I'm flattered that you want to play cat and mouse with me and Lupin. He might obey you, but I won't. Do you know why? Because I know there's a flame inside you that burns for me. And as long as I can, I won't let that damn flame go out." Sirius says, coming so close to you that you feel he could easily become a part of you. He seems angry but determined. You look at him for a moment, then place your hand on his chest for no apparent reason and lean in.

"You're going to end up hurting yourself by doing this. Because I can guarantee that even if I become a blazing inferno of pure desire for you, I will never let you get close to me in the way you imagine. Do us both a favor and give up." You speak so fiercely that, in the back of your mind, there is even a desire to bite Sirius's face. You particularly think this is the werewolf part of you speaking. You turn like a storm and head to your room, leaving behind an aroused and disappointed Sirius.

When you get to your room, all you can think about is how much you'd like to lie down on the bed and sleep. But soon you'll have to go drink wine with Bellatrix. So, you spend some time finishing tidying up your room and taking a good bath. When you get out of the bath and put on your robe, you hear someone knocking on the door. You find it strange because you're almost certain Bellatrix is supposed to be giving a lesson right now. But after tying your robe, you open the door. Remus Lupin stands in front of you, wearing only jeans and a shirt. You think he looks sexy, and unfortunately, from the little smile he gives, he knows you think that.

"What are you doing here?" you ask, leaning against the door and watching Lupin continue to stare at you as if you were a statue to be admired.

"I need you to let me in." That's all he says, while his feelings are too jumbled for you to understand. Something must be wrong. You move your head pointing into the room and let him enter.

"Your feelings are a complete mess. It feels like you can't focus on anything." You say looking at him after closing the door. He looks at you like he's in conflict with himself. That's when you realize you need to make him focus on something. Going against your own words, you do an impulsive act after waiting for him to organize his feelings. You approach Remus and kiss him. It should be a peck on his lips and you should walk away. But something pulls you closer, making you give Lupin another kiss. He leans you against the door, holding your waist, while he supports you against the door. There is a lot of excitement being felt. You know that every second the kiss intensifies, you want more and so does he. And then you throw Remus onto your bed.

"I'm being sabotaged. I had this theory since I transformed on a night that wasn't a full moon. But now it's concrete. The night you arrived here, someone let me out of the safe place where I should have been locked up near the cabin. Sirius and I thought it might be in our heads. A few nights later, I transform outside of the full moon. And now, I discovered that the lock on my little private prison was broken from the outside." Lupin speaks eloquently, and you're glad the kiss served some purpose. It seems crazy to think he might be sabotaged by someone, but it makes sense.

"Do you have any idea who it could be?" you ask, approaching Lupin, who looks distraught. You crouch in front of him, running your hand through his hair. Then the memory of the last time you saw someone crouched in front of him, looking at him the same way and with the same care as now, hits you. Instinctively, you fall back onto the floor, feeling embarrassed.

"You saw me and Sirius the other night. That's why you feel like we don't belong to you, isn't it? That's why you're running from us as if we were a disease? You're afraid of being left out," Remus questions with such confidence that it feels like he can understand you completely. You look at him, confused, while still on the floor, wearing only your robe. Lupin extends his hand to you to help you up. You take his hand and stand up. The two of you stare at each other while he waits for a response.

"If you want verbal confirmation, yes. I saw you two, I witnessed your love and how devoted you are to each other. You can't expect me to get in the middle of an already built relationship." You still speak very close to Lupin. He smirks, as if he finds what you just said adorable.

"If he and I are accepting you in the relationship, you're not getting in the middle of the relationship. Can't you see that we both want you?" Remus says and you put your finger on his mouth to make him shut up.

"You came here to talk about someone sabotaging you. Focus on what's important." You talk changing the subject. While you doesn't want to do romantic things right now, you are intrigued.

"My main suspicion is Bellatrix." Remus Lupin speaks, catching you off guard. You never thought Bellatrix could do anything to Lupin. However, you don't know their story well, and personally, you're a newcomer here. At that moment, someone knocks on your door a few times, distracting you.

"Who is it?" You speak loud enough for the person to hear, while also placing your hand over Lupin's mouth to prevent any misunderstanding.

"Hey, it's me, Bellatrix, your next-door neighbor. Just letting you know I've finished my last class of the day. I'm heading back to my room to take a shower, and then I'll be ready for your company. Sound good?" Bellatrix speaks loudly, and as you deal with Lupin's disapproving look, you begin to consider how to respond.

"Agreed. I'll be in your room as soon as I get ready here," you reply. After hearing Bellatrix enter her room, you remove your hand from Lupin's mouth.

"Are you really going to meet her?" Lupin asks, judging you while also appearing concerned. You look at him slightly uncomfortable.

"I know you believe she might be messing with you now. But to find out for sure, you'll need someone close to her to gather information. Unless you want Sirius to seduce her, I think I'm a good option," you say, being rational. Besides, playing detective could be fun.

"I feel uneasy about both possibilities. And you know that," Remus says, sounding like an overprotective boyfriend. You nod in response, assuring him that you'll be careful despite his concerns.

"Let's find out who's messing with you. Together," you say, a bit awkwardly. Remus gives you one last once-over and quietly leaves. You can't help but think that the hunt for the saboteur is officially on.

[jessiarts]

I posted this in an art discord & they said it should be a post so others (both non-artists & artists) could see it too, so I'm pasting it here with a just few edits to add context:

Having feelings about capitalism and art.

Like, got an unexpected Redbubble sale today. Unexpected because I genuinely never expected to see another after I took some advice and did the whole "raise your margins to 50% in protest so people will use Redbubble less because 'prices are too high'" (For those unaware, Redbubble is introducing a tier structure for artist accounts, where Redbubble will now be taking up to 50% of an artist's monthly earnings as an "account fee" if they end up in the "Standard" tier. Artists are upset about this and are finding various ways to protest the change.)

And it got me thinking about margins, and what it takes to run the company, and how much CEO's take home and just-

Ok so say base price for a product is $10. If your margin is 20% it sells for $12 and you take home $2. Redbubble takes 80%, and uses that to buy materials/print/pay workers. Ok, no argument. I want workers to be fairly compensated.

But you look it up, and the highest paid Redbubble executive makes $950,000 a year. Average executive salary is around $235,000 a year. You can't really find the info for the positions of workers (meaning those who labor to print the products) only that "the lowest compensated makes $34,000" -aka roughly $16 an hour at 40hrs a week. And good on them for paying the workers a decent wage if this info is correct. Hope they keep it up. Or pay them more even.

But then I keep coming back to the fact that the company needs the artists' work to even exist. So why, if the CEO is making nearly a million dollars a year and the company obviously isn't hurting for any money to compensate it's workers or run itself, why does everyone make artists feel greedy just for asking to not have our cut eaten into with added fees? Why are we made to feel bad if we express any disappointment that a CEO makes so much money off the designs of so many artists in comparison to the artists' cut?

Idk how to say it right. It's like we're just expected to collectively fork over our work, let someone else get obscenely rich off it while we make barely anything from it (or in the case of many social media platforms, make literally nothing from it), then then smile about it. Anything else is seen as artists being entitled or 'lazy' or idk what else.

Or we're told to "just raise your margins" like competitive pricing isn't a thing that exists. Not to mention that fact that whenever prices do go up, especially with art, those same people complain that the prices went up and look for something cheaper.

I always see people saying that artists are just jealous that they don't make more sales, or saying "well maybe you'd make more if your art was better" but they're completely missing the whole point that is: Maybe if a company literally depends on the creative 'content' of individuals to exist/profit, maybe don't treat them all as disposable?

[serpensortiamaxima]

What a delightful drama I've woken up to this morning, eh? I still have thoughts I've not seen being brought up so buckle up.

People aren't upset about the summer update. That whole thing is a symptom, not the cause. What people are upset about is the state of the game itself and how much it is lacking and has been lacking since the beginning.

In the past decade or so, we have gotten more and more accustomed to being sold unfinished games, but with the promise that "don't worry we'll patch it in later updates", and then this never happened. In fact, if Hogwarts Legacy had been an excellent game with its holes patched up and they decided to grant us this free update? The reception would have been, much, much better.

And, excuse the harshness but I do wonder how capitalism-rotten your brain has to be to miss that it's about the principle rather than the update itself. We should not allow corporations to get away with always giving less and less to their clients. Ever. And I can already hear the counter argument of "you can't always get what you want!" and again, that's not my point.

The point is that corporations aim for cost effectiveness. Especially for a free update, they're not going to look at what the community wants really, they will pick the one thing that requires the least time and the least resources because they will have to pay for the time and production cost of a new feature. They know that free updates don't bring in new players. A free update is a way to do community management and get some hype, it might bring in some sales, but never enough to make profit.

Customers aren't upset about the update itself, they're experiencing now the frustration about the game they've always put on the side so far, due to this habit I've mentioned above, of expecting fixes and patches and regular updates from a game, especially one so recently released.

It only takes a quick glance at what's happening with EA in general to see a similar pattern of new content being botched or overpriced, only to receive intense backlash. And that backlash is necessary. Staying complacent and simply accepting your fate as a gamer customer is exactly what corporations are hoping for, because then they don't have to do more. They receive this feedback that it's fine, that they can just do the bare minimum and expect their customer base to eat up the new content in gratefulness. Really? Do we really want to trigger this loop of always getting less and less for something that not only has been bought but that the customers don't even own?

This isn't a Hogwarts Legacy issue, it's an industry wide trend, and we should recognize it as such.

Now, to my last point: mods. I got into modding Skyrim in 2013. Both as an avid user of mods and sometimes to make my own light tweaks for storytelling. For the most part, I'm mostly a mod user and every single time a game I played could be modded, I did so. My current Skyrim save is running on over 200 of them. I only ever play vanilla when I have no other choice. I've quickly touched on the topic yesterday by pointing out how modding requires a healthy and thriving community to work.

There are two main factors to achieve those requirements:

The company behind the game needs to support making mods for their games.

A big and interested customer base

And I guess the hidden third requirement is the coding language and how accessible it is. But I digress. My understanding of the modding community for HL is that it is very small, and therefore limited and that Portkey/Avalanche hasn't provided any resources for modders.

And so, I don't think we'll see a thriving community for HL any time soon, at least not of the comparable kind. And for me, personally, it means that the kind of gamechanging mods I would want to see simply aren't going to happen.

The kind of mods I tend to use are very immersion-focused to allow for a real roleplaying experience, that would include the ability to create new animations, to assign additional dialogues to NPCs, additional routing for NPCs within the map, to allow the player to completely ignore the main quest if they wanted to etc. And I'm afraid that HL is built in such a way that it doesn't have this flexibility even for an experienced mod creator but especially not if the modding community for the game is too small. A lot of these things would require a lot of time, a lot of code, and ton of testing and beta play.

And that doesn't mean that there can't be good mods made, but if the player base wanted to have more mods of a very high quality, we would still need to put pressure on Avalanche to tell them that if they're not ready to provide us with new content, the least they could do is make modding more accessible on their game.

[klapollo]

i want apps like doordash/ubereats/grubhub to go out of fashion and die so bad im not even joking. they made food delivery worse in basically every way. tons of fucking fees that make your meal twice as expensive for no reason, delivery workers getting paid peanuts in a gig economy setup, dominating delivery and then making it so restaurants can barely recoup on what can make up a significant portion of their business.

like i know it's not ideal but i feel like i would much rather use an online yellowpages type directory that would just tell me restaurants within delivery distance of me, direct me to THEIR website/phone where i can order directly from them and they have delivery drivers that they employ and pay hourly wages to (remember those). like i made a post about this already but while being a delivery boy sucked before all of this, the dominance of doordash and co is something ive seen happen very rapidly within the last decade and has made ordering takeout so much more fucking miserable for literally EVERYONE involved but the app company itself. i hate it

[selene-and-the-cold]

Taking a Rest (OCs, M/M)

First of all, I wanted to thank everybody who commented or reblogged or liked my fic "Taking a Ride". I was truly surprised and happy that you all enjoyed reading about Silas and Albert so much!

And since their business was not yet concluded, I present to you another installment. It can be read on its own, but I'd recommend reading their first adventure "Taking a Ride" first.

I hope to add another part, since the text post Silas and Albert are inspired by actually talked about Silas catching the cold from Albert, and we have yet to see that...

But I digress. So what are you going to read in this fic? Silas makes good on his promise and pays our sick Albert a visit for some TLC. Fluff ensues, and Silas is confronted with... feelings.

There's also a bit of snz and a bare male chest (shocking, I know...).

***

Taking a Rest

Following the exhilarating carriage ride with his dear Albert, Silas woke up the next morning with mixed feelings. It had been most unfortunate that he had had to decline Albert's invitation due to his father coming down to London to talk business with Silas. However, since this nuisance of a meeting could not be avoided, Silas decided to take it on in stride. The sooner he tackled whatever problem presented itself, the sooner he would have time to make good on his promise and call on his poor Albert, who had contracted a chill on his business trip to Cardiff.

Archer, Silas' valet, had thankfully prepared everything so Silas only needed to freshen up and slip into his clothes with Archer's assistance prior to meeting his father. As usual, Silas skipped breakfast, a habit Albert had often reprimanded him for, but Silas usually did not see the point of it - at least if there was no company to take his breakfast with.

He did, however, take the time for a sip of tea, as his throat was quite parched.

The meeting with his father was – regrettably – not as boring as Silas had anticipated. Well, technically, it was always a good thing when conversations were not boring. In this case, however, a boring conversation would have been much preferred, since there had been some irregularities in the accounts of one of their smaller estates and Silas' father had asked him to look into the matter.

It had to be done discreetly, though, since there was a possibility that the estate's bookkeeper was involved. Therefore, they had to avoid rousing the man's suspicions lest it would lead to evidence being destroyed.

It was altogether unpleasant business, and Silas left the meeting with a slight headache.

At least his father would drive up to their home estate in the country that very night, so Silas would not have to deal with any courtesy visits.

After parting ways with his father, Silas set his private network in motion to discreetly gather information on the matter. This meant several carriage rides to various gentlemen of his acquaintance as well as a long stretch of letter-writing in his office, until Silas was finally free to visit Albert, who had been on his mind all day.

~~~~

“I'm afraid, Lord de Lacy, but Sir Albert is not in a state to receive any callers this afternoon,” Barker, Albert's valet, informed him when Silas came round to call on his friend.

Silas' heart sank. Why would Albert have Barker decline visitors? This could only mean that poor Bertie's chill had taken a turn for the worse.

“I understand. However, we arranged a meeting for today only yesterday evening. Could you please inform Sir Albert that it is me who's calling, Mr. Barker?”

Barker seemed to consider whether he was in a position to decline this request. Silas was, after all, a lord. So he finally bobbed his head and said: “Very well, my Lord,” before he left Silas to wait in Albert's entrance hall. While he waited, Silas found himself fidgeting nervously with the brim of his hat, which he had taken off upon entering. Not knowing how Albert was faring proved to be pure agony.

After what seemed like an eternity, Barker returned and if Silas had not known better, he would have sworn that the ghost of a smile had lingered on the valet's face.

“My apologies, my Lord. Sir Albert will see you now.”

Silas followed Barker into Albert's reading room, where he was greeted by a crackling fire, and a pale-faced Albert.

He was outstretched on a chaise-lounge, propped up with pillows and wearing what looked like his sleepwear and the silk, navy-blue dressing gown with paisley pattern that brought out the colour of his eyes so well. A thick blanket covered his legs and chest, and Albert clasped a white handkerchief in his hand, while a cup of tea sat on a side-table next to the chaise-lounge. It was all a rather pitiful sight.

As he saw Silas approach, Albert weakly tried to sit up straighter, but Silas immediately went over and placed a hand on his arm to stop him.

“Albert, please, don't sit up on my behalf, there's no need...,” Silas began, but stopped himself from fussing, acutely aware of Barker's continued presence.

He withdrew his hand from Albert's arm, and wished things would not have to be so complicated. All he wanted was to comfort the person he... cared about? Liked? Held in great esteem?

Suddenly bewildered, Silas blinked a few times. What exactly was this... feeling spreading there in his chest?

They had never talked about what it was that they shared. It had all just fallen into place one day, so naturally that Silas never had a reason to question or define this new level their friendship had ascended to.

Then again, he had never seen Albert so pale and sick. Had never worried about him so much.

“Thank you Barker, that will be all for the mboment. Please leave us alone and inform any other callers that I won't receive anyone today.”

“As you wish, Sir,” Barker said, then closed the door behind him as he retreated, leaving the two men to it.

“Oh Bertie, you look awfully pale. How are you, dearest?,” Silas asked, as soon as he was certain they were alone, taking off his gloves as he sat down on the chaise-lounge next to his ailing friend. Now that it was just the two of them, all his worry and affection for Albert flowed freely from him once again.

“Truth be told, I have beed better...,” Albert admitted, his usual melodious voice reduced to a weak, rasping, quivery thing. Silas winced at the sound of it. Before he could express his sympathy, though, Albert hastily turned away from him to half-muffle a sneeze into his handkerchief.

“Hehh'ESshhTSsHHtt!! Ugh.. Excuse mbe...”

“Bless you,” Silas offered and gently rubbed Albert's thigh through the blanket. “No need to apologise.”

“Thank you...,” Albert sighed, then sank back against the chaise-lounge, looking thoroughly drained from the effort of turning away to sneeze. “Oh, Sy, I feel truly awful. I couldn't stop sndeezing all day. Mby throat is sore, mby chest hurts from coughing, and mby head has ndot stopped pounding since I got up.”

Silas tsked in sympathy, scooting further up the chaise-lounge until he could rest a hand on Albert's chest. It was warm, yet Albert seemed to be cold despite the merry flames dancing in the fireplace.

“Oh, Bertie! I am sorry you're feeling so poorly... Although I might think the headache was to be expected, since you've been quite tipsy yesterday.”

Albert closed his eyes and let his head loll back against the chaise-lounge with a pathetic sigh. “Please dod't rembind mbe of mby own foolishness... Heh'EsSSHH!” The sneeze was followed by a little whimper and Albert dabbed at his running nose in a pathetic attempt to maintain decorum.

“My apologies,” Silas said with a small grin, taking Albert's free hand to kiss it gently.

“But I've taken your advice, Sy, and have been resting for mbost of the day,” Albert continued and bestowed a tired smile on his friend.

“Very good, my dear. And I would like you to continue in this manner for at least the next two days... We can't have this chill settle any deeper into your bones than it already has.”

As he spoke, Silas's hand travelled from Albert's chest to his cheek, cupping it gently, before Silas leaned down to place a fond kiss on Albert's forehead.

“Mhm... I do believe you are running a fever, too...,” Silas murmured, his lips still lingering on the warm skin.

“I do?,” Albert asked in a small voice, sounding thoroughly disheartened by this news.

“I'm afraid so, dearest. Perhaps we could send for a cool compress for your forehead... Oh and I brought something for you as well,” Silas added, all caring smiles as he pulled a little container out of the pocket of his suit.

“I stopped by the pharmacy before I came to call on you and the apothecary highly recommended this balm to soothe coughs and headaches. It is supposed to be applied directly to the chest and / or to your back, but you have to keep warm and stay bundled up after applying it, so the balm won't cool your skin down too much...”

Seeing Albert's face, Silas suddenly stopped prattling on about the the balm. Albert studied him with an incredulous look, his glassy eyes wide, his face the most earnest Silas had seen him since before he had to leave for Cardiff when they had a hushed, stolen goodbye in the broom cabinet of their Gentlemen's Club.

Had he said something wrong?

“What... what is it, Albert?”

The uncertainty in his voice was unmistakeable and Silas hated being so vulnerable, so fragile. With just one look, Albert had him all flustered and insecure, tearing away the carefully crafted layers of “Lord Silas”, exposing the little awkward boy he was, always in the shadows of his grandiose older brother.

“Ndothing,” Albert was quick to reassure, “it's just... Ndo one has ever brought mbe balms for mby chest when I was sick before. Actually ndo one ever called on mbe when I was sick before.”

“Oh?”

Albert's words took a moment to fully settle in, threatening to make Silas blush. Albert had admitted this so casually, so calmly as if it was the most common thing in the world. Did he have any idea how this set Silas's inner world in turmoil? How his heart was suddenly hammering in his chest?

It took another moment for Silas to regain his footing, his boyish charm slowly returning while he tried to give his next words a light, nonchalant tone as if Albert had made a little joke instead of a confession.

“Oh!... But you knew I would call on you today, Bertie!,” he gave Albert's leg a little swat for good measure. “I promised, didn't I? So no need to be all flabbergasted by it. That's what friends do.”

Albert sniffled, his face still earnest and his eyes filled with an unspoken fondness that ran straight through Silas' heart.

“Yes, you did, Sy. Hehh...HEhh'ERrrSSHHU! Snnnff... However, mbaking a promise and keeping it are two very different stories.”

Silas blushed, then fussed with the blanket, arranging and rearranging it, before he ventured to gaze at his friend.

“I'll always keep my promises to you, Bertie,” he said sincerely. Then, feeling the sudden weight of his words, he panicked and started to babble. “Well, I'll try, alas I'm far from perfect, so there will be ample opportunity for me to make a muck of things...”

Why the blazes was he rambling on about mucking up and failing to keep promises? Thankfully, Albert had the grace to interrupt him.

“I kndow that you are ndot perfect, Sy. And frankly, thank God for that! Otherwise I would be completely out of mby depth with you... Hehh... ESSHHiU!!”

Albert pitched forward with a pitiful sneeze, doing his best to catch it in his handkerchief, but the poor piece of fabric had already caught many a sneeze today and seemed to be at the end of its capacity.

“Here, Bertie. Take mine,” Silas offered softly, then took Albert's spent handkerchief from him, stuffed it into his coat pocket and replaced it with his own. His initials – SdL – were elaborately stitched into one corner, and Silas found a sudden pleasure in the idea of Albert having this piece of him close at all times.

“Thank you, Sy,” Albert sighed, then tended to his nose, which was a deep shade of angry pink and looked thoroughly tender and irritated.

“Ndow, where is this balm you were talking about earlier?”

Silas handed the small container to his friend, smiling as Albert squinted to read the label. He had noticed that Albert usually needed his reading glasses when confronted with smaller writing.

“What do you say, Bertie? Shall we try to find out if this balm really can do wonders for your cold?”

Albert nodded, handing the container back to Silas, seemingly too exhausted to try and read the small, intricate writing.

Since they were alone and he was about to take care of his poor Bertie, Silas shrugged out of his jacket and draped it over the back of a nearby chair. Standing only in his shirt and waistcoat, he rolled up his sleeves, then approached Albert with the confident smile of a world-renowned physician about to perform his best healing procedure.

“Alright, Bertie, let us begin. Ah, but I presume I would have to come a bit closer for this to work, wouldn't I?,” Silas mused with a sly grin, then came over and sat on top of Albert, straddling him once more just like he had the previous evening in his carriage. Albert chuckled, amused by this replication of yesterday's events.

“Now Bertie, that's much better, isn't it?” Silas asked, echoing the question he had asked Albert right after straddling him the previous evening.

“Mbuch better,” Albert replied grinning, happy to provide yesterday's line for their little game of re-enactment. He was too tired to grab and squeeze Silas' buttocks today, though. Instead, he held on weakly to Silas' hips, his fingers digging into the fabric of his fine trousers.

Silas proceeded to carefully peel Albert's chest out of the many layers of fabric protecting it against the chill.

At first, he pushed back the blanket to reveal Albert's dressing gown. In order to slip under it, Silas had to loosen the belt which held the dressing gown in place. This led to much squirming and giggling, as Silas' hand dived deep to reach the dressing gown's belt and to undo the knot, swift fingers moving indecently close to Albert's most private parts.

“Ah! Dod't tease mbe, Sy, I regrettably feel too weak for such shenanigans today,” Albert protested with an adorable pout. Apparently, he was just as dejected as Silas that this cold had taken so much out of him.

“My apologies, Sir Albert, I will keep my hands thoroughly in check from now on~”

Albert chuckled, but had to turn his head to the side to cough into the pillow that supported him. Silas was jolted around with every cough, and his heart went out to his poor Albert, who was left to breathe heavily for a few moments in the wake of his coughing fit.

“Perhaps this isn't such a good idea, Bertie. I should probably not be sitting on top of you..,” Silas began, his leg already twitching as if to get up, but Albert caught Silas' hand and led it back to the lapels of his dressing gown.

“Ndo, dod't stop on mby account, Sy. Please continue. I am quite curious to see what this wondrous balm will accomplish and you cad't expect a sick, ailing man like mbe to undress himself...”

Albert looked up at him with the most delicious little pout, and Silas could not help himself, but leaned in for a tender kiss.

“Alright then...,” he mumbled against Albert's lips, smiling into him before he sat back up. “... where were we? Oh yes, right... these buttons can't stay closed..”

Nimble fingers made quick work of the buttons on Albert's night attire, revealing his bare chest. Albert shivered slightly, but looked more than pleased to be so exposed in front of Silas.

“Mhm.. there we go.. Now, before we can proceed, I need to make a good, thorough inspection of your chest...”

“You do~?,” Albert asked, his voice a delighted little squeal.

“Oh yes, Bertie. Very thorough~”

Silas dived in to conduct his "inspection", peppering Albert's chest with soft kisses, nibbling, licking, and sucking at the pale, milky skin, humming in delight and thoroughly enjoying Albert's softness on his tongue and lips.

Meanwhile, Albert melted into the chaise-lounge, biting his fist to prevent himself from making indecently loud noises and kicking his feet as Silas' tongue took care of an especially sensitive spot.

“Oh, Sy... hmm... oh wait!.. I... I have thhho... eehhh.....Hhhheehh'ESShhsttTSHHU!! HessSSHHU!! EtttSSHHusshh! Oh mby goodness, pardon mbe!”

Albert had sneezed without much warning. Silas had kept his head down, so the sneezes had mostly gone right over his shoulder, but he had felt the urgent panting of Albert's chest as well as the shuddering release. And good heavens had it felt exciting!

“Bless you,” he purred into Albert's neck, nibbling and kissing the warm skin there for good measure. Albert's hands clawed at his back with newfound strength, keeping him close until Silas had kissed that one spot right behind Albert's ear he loved so much to be kissed and sucked at.

As expected, Albert made one of his adorable little sounds of pleasure, and Silas sat up again, feeling thoroughly accomplished now that he had brought Albert to make his little noise.

While Albert composed himself, panting and snuffling, Silas licked his lips as if he had just enjoyed a very fine glass of brandy, then smoothing a strand of his dark hair back in its place.

“I dare say my inspection is complete, Bertie, and I found nothing amiss.”

Albert grinned up at him, all flushed cheeks and runny nose, but with that warm, cheeky glint in his eyes Silas loved so much.

“I'b glad to hear it, Sy.”

“Time to see what this wondrous balm can do...”

Grabbing the little container, Silas opened it, then sniffled tentatively at the smooth substance in it. It smelled of herbs and essential oils, quite potent, but pleasant. Satisfied with its scent, Silas dipped his finger into the balm, taking up a dollop of the mixture, which he then carefully transferred to Albert's chest. Starting from the middle, he rubbed the balm in in small circles, covering the left side of Albert's chest first before he moved on to the right.

“How's that, Bertie?”

Albert shivered.

“A tad cold, but not unpleasant. Ah, but I do believe the scent of it mbakes mbe.. hehh Heh'ERRSSHHU!!! ssniff sndeeze.”

Albert sneezed thrice more until his nose was accustomed to the scent, his body bobbing under Silas from the force of it. He mainly caught the sneezes in the handkerchief, but a few droplets grazed Silas' neck and shoulder.

Silas kept administering these soft touches for some time, taking up another small dollop of the mixture to ensure that Albert's chest was thoroughly covered. And since Albert seemed to enjoy the touch, Silas kept running his hands in circles over Albert's chest long after the balm had been applied.

At one point, though, Albert's chest seemed to get cold, so Silas cleaned the remaining balm off his hands and set out to bundle his Bertie back up again.

“Now, Bertie, that was quite enough fun and games for today. You are sick, after all and should be resting,” Silas said in his best mock-stern voice. Albert answered with his most demure look, before he had to cough again. The sound was deep and rich and set Silas to worry once again.

“See, Bertie, that is exactly what I am on about...”

Albert wheezed, undeniably exhausted at this point.

“Perhaps you are right, Sy. This has been quite the excitembent already... Hehh'ESShhTttsshh!” He quickly brought Silas' handkerchief to his nose to sneeze into it, then sank back into his pillows with a sigh, beads of sweat glistening on his forehead.

Silas made sure that all the buttons on Albert's top were closed, before he neatly folded his dressing gown closed over Albert's chest, wrapping him in like a precious gift. Finally, he pulled the blanket up until right under Albert's chin.

“Ah, Sy, stop, that is quite enough! I will ndeed a bit of space to breathe.”

“Sorry, Bertie, I just wanted to make sure that you are warm enough.”

Just like the night before, Silas took Albert's face in his hands, examining it. The dark circles under Albert's eyes were edged even deeper into the fair skin, and Albert's nose was tinged an angry shade of deep pink, bordering on red. His eyes looked tired, yet content, but he was all in all a miserable sight.

“Promise you'll rest until I return to call on you tomorrow?,” Silas asked, soft eyes searching Albert's gaze.

“I promise,” Albert whispered, and Silas kissed him once again as a long, tender goodbye.

[tricktits]

bestie more pregnancy content please please please

ask and you shall receive anon! hope this floats your boat xoxo

-

“do you think it’s lonely in there?” patrick looked up at pete with what appeared to be genuine concern; furrowed brows, watery eyes, and parted lips. he was absentmindedly running a hand over his barely-a-bump. if anything his chest was sticking out more than his stomach at this point.

pete stifled a chuckle at the question. “while attached to you 24/7?” he smiled brightly in an attempt to reassure him, grasping patrick’s chin gently so he could run a thumb over his bottom lip. “if i was growing inside you, you couldn’t pay me to leave.” he eased the tip of his thumb in patrick’s mouth, who eagerly accepted it; tonguing it over with what could only be described as slutty elegance.

eventually, and reluctantly, pete released his thumb. he admired the trail of spit that connected it to patrick’s mouth for a few seconds more than he reasonably should’ve before wiping the excess fluid onto patrick’s chin.

“ewww” patrick giggled in spite of his vocalized disgust, squirming in pete’s grip not unlike a small puppy.

“feeling better yet?” pete had been dealing with patrick’s non-issues for the better part of a couple months now. pregnancy hormones would truly be the death of him.

patrick’s sweet smile quickly dissipated. “no… you’re not getting it.” he pouted with an audible hmph, the little drama queen. “i want another one in there.” he made a pointed gesture at his stomach as if pete wasn’t aware that’s where it was being kept. “i want the baby to have a sibling. keep ‘em company.”

unlike the previous concern, this statement was not immune from an audible chortle. pete practically bent himself in half from laughter. something that clearly ruffled patrick if his crossed arms and reddened face were anything to go by.

“look, cookie jar,” pete spoke gently after recovering from his laughing fit, rubbing a hand across patrick’s thigh, a comforting gesture that went unnoticed. “hate to break it to ya, but once a baby’s inside you, i can’t put anymore in until the first one comes out.”

patrick’s pout had softened into a mere frown. “can’t you try?”

before pete could form a reply that would’ve broken down to ‘there’s no way pregnancy makes you this ignorant of 6th grade biology’ patrick had taken it upon himself to turn around, giving pete a view of patrick’s denim clad ass, its newly thickened perfectly-ripened-peach roundness clearly straining itself against the seams.

patrick whines, trying to look at pete from over his shoulder. “please, please please. gimme another one. i want another one. i want 3 in there. i want 10.”

6th grade biology was probably a conspiracy. it just didn’t want people to have fun.