#I'm gonna reblog it with a part two with the second prompt so keep an eye out!!

[kitteneddiediaz]

201 and 163 mayhaps for the general smut asks? if it’s sparks anything ofc!

Hi Zesty! Thank you for the request! This ended up being wayyyyyy sappier than I was thinking it would be haha, I hope you enjoy!

163. “do you like it when i touch right here?”

201. “take it like a good boy”

NSFW below the cut

"Do you like it when I touch right here?" Buck whispers, rubbing his fingers gently over Eddie's taint. He's nervous. Nervous that any wrong move could disrupt the quiet, tranquil atmosphere that somehow has allowed him to be where he is right now.

If he's being honest, Buck still isn't really sure what happened. It felt like one second, him and Eddie were doing what they're always doing - standing in the kitchen late at night, opening up about things that feel too real to say in during the loudness of the day. The next, he had Eddie pressed up against the kitchen island, hands tentatively wrapped around Eddie's waist, delicately working his lips over Eddie's, coaxing his mouth open.

Buck's surprised. All of his trysts before have always been... frantic. Tearing clothes off and tripping over furniture on the way to the bedroom. But, Eddie's always been different. And he deserves to be treated different.

It's why Buck hesitates, because this means so much more than a one night stand. He knows that this is a pivotal point in their friendship, the stepping stone to something they've been growing towards for years. Buck knows tonight isn't about playing his cards right, but being aware enough to not play his cards wrong. That he can stumble and be nervous, that he should. That maybe being too boisterous and cocky would be the exact thing that would make Eddie doubt.

It's another reason why he's so gentle, when he walks Eddie backwards through the house, kissing light and open against his mouth. Why he lowers Eddie gently to lay back against the couch cushions, thankful he's strong enough to carry Eddie's weight without risk of dropping him. Why he's slow to kiss down Eddie's neck, to map his skin and taste him for the first time, outside of warm, wet blood splatter on a hot August day, or alcohol-induced sweat from them bumping into each other as they raced to Chimney's hotel room all those months ago.

And Eddie's skin... Buck can't say what Eddie tastes like, and if he's being literal, Eddie tastes like how most people taste. But, he's hopelessly sentimental, so when he nibbles at the sensitive skin at the hinge of Eddie's jaw, high up just under his ear, Buck can't help but taste the memories. Late night conversations and apologies, fresh-baked lasagna over a dining table strewn with 7th-grade math homework over the surface, wall patchings and fresh paint and frames for art that had been hidden away in a garage for way too long. Eddie tastes like a foundation, like a parcel of land with a warm golden-glowing house, beckoning Buck to unpack his belongings alongside the ones already there, space perfectly vacant for Buck to settle into. Not to lay claim to a territory, but to grasp a welcoming hand, inviting him into a life already well-loved.

It's overwhelming, thinking back to those moments where Buck knew it was only a matter of time. And it's overwhelming thinking in the moment now too, knowing that even though tomorrow and the day after will be a little awkward, the two of them stumbling around each other, blushing and giggling and reveling in their puppy love - however short-lived it may be before it settles into something more real, more secure - that one day Buck will be familiar with the way Eddie arches into him. Buck will get to be familiar with the way Eddie's breath hitches, the way his legs fall open to invite Buck to settle between them, that he'll be familiar with... god with the way Eddie breathes his name like a prayer.

They take their time undressing each other, stopping after shirts and pants are removed to touch skin that either of them has only ever gotten to dream of what it feels like under their clothes. The pointy bones of their hips knock together as they settle again, pressed together on Eddie's couch.

And this is where Buck finds himself now, draped over Eddie, one hand cupping the side of his neck and the other working the skin behind his balls.

Eddie's sighing so pretty into his mouth. "Yes. Buck, baby."

Buck slides his hand up to wrap around Eddie's cock next, entranced by the way Eddie's eyelashes flutter closed and he digs his fingers a little harder into Buck's bicep and back he has a grip on.

Buck works him over, sliding his own cock in next to Eddie's to glide over their lengths together.

It's only a few strokes before they're tumbling over the edge together, moaning and gasping into each others mouths.

Post orgasm clarity hits Buck like a ton of bricks though, suddenly distraught at was the hell he just did to implode his friendship with Eddie. It doesn't last long though, because Eddie immediately starts giggling into Buck's neck, hands gliding down to grab at his waist.

It makes Buck giggle too, and it's all he really needs to feel the uneasiness in his gut settle, and then he's sitting up on his haunches, grabbing a tissue to clean both of them up.

"You're gonna stay?" Eddie asks.

And Buck laughs at him just a little, softly. "Yeah, Eddie. I'm staying."

And he does.

[mlmxreader]

Acceptance | Alfie Solomons x nb!reader

anonymous asked: Hi! Could I please request the following prompts for Alfie Solomons X non-binary!reader: "Get down!"+"Just think what they have to put up with."+"Stay with me" Maybe with the reader from Feisty, if the muse allows for it, of course! An idea could be that Alfie has been coming around their shop for a couple weeks. During a particular visit to their store, it gets hit by one of the other gangs, maybe one of them gets hurt during the encounter. Leads to reader accepting the offer of protection from Alfie. (But fully up to you, obviously) Thanks again! 🐍anon

summary: Alfie's offer to the shopkeeper he finds so terribly charming may just actually go through after all.

tws: mentions of gunshots, swearing, injury

PART ONE: FEISTY

support your fanfic writers by reblogging what you read & enjoy

You were hoping to make it home early, when he showed up; the shop had just finished closing and getting locked up for the day, when he fucking waltzed in and pretended to look at what you were selling. He had been doing this for two fucking weeks, and although you had grown to become aware of the times he would visit, that didn't mean you liked him.

But you were used to him by now, so you never paid it much mind anyway; you allowed him in, allowed him to browse while you read your newspaper and sat in the staff room. He knew where he was, he would often sit with you for a while. His presence wasn't welcome, but it was tolerated only because he paid for what he wanted and he often added on extra.

Today was no different though.

At his usual time, he walked in, took a look around and picked up a few things and paid more than the price for them and refused change; he popped them into a shopping bag that he left behind the till, and came to sit with you in the staff room as you read your newspaper.

You regretted sending your employees home.

"Evenin', sunshine," Alfie grinned. "You in a better mood today?"

"Genuinely, go shit in your hands and clap," you huffed, daring to smile to yourself. "Better yet, get the fuck off of my property."

Alfie leaned forward, tilting your newspaper down slightly so that you had to look at him. "I can see you smilin' there, treacle, c'mon. Admit you like me."

"I'd rather get a hot poker shoved up my arse," you scoffed. "You can fuck off."

He laughed softly, nodding as he leaned back again and stretched, lifting his legs up onto the table and resting his hands on his stomach. You were tough, and you weren't scared of him at all; he liked that. He thought you were great company, even if you acted like you utterly despised everything about him.

Quietly, he yawned under his breath, his eyes watering as his head tilted forward. "Can I at least walk you home later?"

"You can at least fuck off," you huffed. "Coffee?"

"Go on then," he grinned. "You left the puzzles, yeah?"

"Yeah, I left 'em for you," you huffed. "Selfish asshole."

Alfie hummed as he took the paper and started to look for the different puzzles that were often thrown in; he looked up every few seconds, keeping an eye on you and making sure that you were alright with him being there.

He thanked you quietly when you put the coffee down in front of him, but he soon rose to his feet when there was a loud crash and the telltale harsh cry of glass being broken.

"Get down!" He told you through gritted teeth. "I'll fuckin' handle it."

You waited in the staff room, under the table as you listened to the shouting match outside; there was a gunshot, and your stomach dropped as you feared the worst. But Alfie soon came back, a little bloodied but not too badly.

"I'm alright, sunshine," he smiled. "Just a little gash on my fuckin' arm is all. Nothin' for you to worry about."

You shook your head, ushering him to the seat he always used and sighing heavily. "No, you're gonna stay the fuck there, and I'm gonna look at it."

He cocked a brow. "Why?"

"You…" you huffed as you searched for the medicine kit. "Just stay with me."

He grinned. "Like what? Your own personal guard dog? I thought you fuckin' hated me."

You rolled your eyes. "I will really fucking hate you in a minute."

He couldn't stop smiling as you brought the medicine kit over, gentle as you removed his shirt and allowed it to drape across the back of his chair; the angle was awkward, so you were forced to sit on his lap as you patched the gash up.

It was a lot deeper and bigger than he had made it out to be, but every time you told him off, he just grinned and laughed - like all he cared about was being close to you.

"It was the cunts from Birmingham," he told you eventually. "Thought that because you were the only place that wasn't under my fuckin' protection, they could get away with havin' a pop."

You clenched your jaw. "Well. I don't see the harm in taking up your offer…"

"Really?"

"I spoke to Cohen," you sighed. "He said you weren't lying. You've shown me… you're not. So. I'll give it a go… just don't fucking annoy me every single day."

"I ain't makin' that promise," Alfie laughed. "You're too charmin' and fuckin' feisty for me to stop annoyin'."

You rolled your eyes as you shook your head. "Are you like this with everyone?"

"Of course I ain't," he hummed. "But imagine if I was. Just think what they have to put up with."

"I dread to think," you deadpanned. Making sure the wound was all set before you got off of his lap. "You'll survive, Mister Solomons."

Alfie grinned up at you. "Knight in shinin' armour, ain't you, sunshine? So, what next?"

"I thought you were staying."

"Right," he agreed. "With you, yeah?"

"If you must," you sighed. "If you have to annoy me constantly."

"Oh," Alfie laughed again as he stood up, putting his arm around your shoulders. "I absolutely fuckin' do, Mx."

You leaned into the touch a little, but not enough to let him think that you liked him. Of course you didn't.

He was Alfie Solomons, the very thorn in your side, the rock in your shoe, the sweat stuck to your back… he was Alfie Solomons, the man who drank coffee with you and whose visits you had come to tolerate.

You shook your head, clearing the latter thoughts as you dared to steal a look at him.

"Get the fuck off of me."

"Y'know," he mused. "I really fuckin' do like you."

[hvsomnes]

HV's Writing Blog #1: Writer

My name is H.V. Somnes, and I'm a writer.

I read from someone online once that just writing stories makes you a writer, but publishing books actually makes you an author. I'm pretty sure that not only works in some kind of philosophical sense, but literally.

I've been writing ever since I was around... sixteen. I once got second place in a short story contest in my high school. Now, nearly ten years later, I've written a dozen short stories.

Written. Much like the second paragraph's guidelines, though I've written a bunch of stories, none of them have ever actually been published. That short story, brought upon by a writing prompt I saw here on the good ol' hellsite, was placed in an omnibus that I have since lost.

So why am I here? Well, as the title suggests, I want to write a book. A proper, actual book. One to publish and maybe have one or two people read. Maybe three people if you wanna get crazy.

I'm not gonna be facetious and act like I purely want to do this because I like writing, I'd personally love to become a professional author someday. To be able to sit down in a nice seaside house with royalties paying... at least half of my bills, maybe. It would be nice.

I do love writing though. Even if writing does not like me. As of late, I've become stricken with writer's block for this book that I've been working on for as long as I've been writing!

I started this concept for a sci-fi novel way back when I was a teenager. It started with characters, then I made a plot, then I revised the plot at 19, then I revised the plot at 22, and... I'm still here, years later. I'd tell you how many years but you NEVER ask an author their age, c'mon now.

Okay, okay, fine. I'm still in my 20s. But that's all you're gonna get.

This project, which henceforth shall be known as just THE BOOK- as in the one and only book I'm currently working on, has had a very flip-flopping development process since I started working on it. I've created entire plotlines and written them down, only to scrap it all later to revise the plot entirely.

THE BOOK even has a finished first draft, made last year (2021) that has since been promptly abandoned to start a new version of the book. I wrote THE BOOK's first draft was made for NaNoWriMo, and whether the second draft will share that is yet to be known.

As for the synopsis, it's a spacefaring, sci-fi adventure focusing on a group of superhuman freelancers, taking place in a universe where humans have colonized... every planet in the galaxy.

After the death of a (for lack of a better word) supervillain heavily involved in that group of humans' trauma, they're forced to figure out who they are after the source of their plight has finally been destroyed.

I'm trying not to be too spoilery about it. The death thing happens literally in the beginning, so that's not too much of a spoiler I don't think.

I hope that's enough to draw you in for more. I hope these dev blogs are enjoyable as well. I'm mostly just doing them to keep my mind on writing as much as I can.

I appreciate you if you're still reading this. I hope to make another one of these soon. I'll leave you with an art piece from the late Syd Mead- this is a part of his US Steel collection, and if you've seen my reblogs you'll know I love retro-futuristic looks.

Ciao!

THE BOOK Progress:

Words Written: 3,903

Pages Written: 10

% Written (Based on 50k Words): 7.81%

Art Down Below:

[kazewhara]

omg “You’re going to sit on that man’s lap just for a photo?” for childe or diluc

santa's big scene.

❄ winter prompts ❄

# — pairings: diluc, childe x gn!reader

# — characters: gender neutral reader, childe, diluc, scaramouche, signora

# — summary: you don't have to do everything on christmas, you know..

# — warnings: suggestive speech

# — tags: hc/drabble format, modern au, fluff, slightly possessive childe + diluc, smidgen of angst, suggestive speech

# — notes: y'know, i was only gonna do childe at first, but as i was writing the tags, i realized that both of them would have a slightly different approach to this! then again, now that i'm reading it over, for some reason i think i should put it with a different series i have here.. anyways, as always, reactions and reblogs are greatly appreciated, and i hope you enjoy! ❄

❄ wanna join the tag list? ❄

✧ — 𝐝𝐢𝐥𝐮𝐜 — ✧

he took you to a mall for christmas with the intent of spoiling you (because really, why wouldn't he?)

it actually took a lot of coaxing on his part to get you to agree to this, because while you liked getting gifts, you didn't want to bleed the man dry

but this is diluc we're talking about. c'mon. not only is he rich, but he's very stubborn

so that's how you two find yourselves at a somewhat upscale mall, looking for a store to start at

it's christmas of course, so there's decorations, music playing, little snack vendors here and there, the works

but most notably, the famed santa whose lap you sit on to take photos with

"oh my god, wait, can you take a picture of me with santa?" you ask, already pushing your phone into a confused diluc's hands. you were just telling him about what you might want to eat for lunch when you suddenly gasped and started fumbling for your phone as you stared at something with a childlike gleam in your eyes. diluc followed your gaze to the santa claus seated a little ways away, with children and adults alike lining up to sit on his lap to take pictures with him.

diluc shakes his head with a tiny smile, endeared by your enthusiasm. he was here to spoil you today, so who was he to refuse? "alright, alright," he agrees, chuckling when you celebrate under your breath. "did you do this kind of thing often when you were young?"

you nod rapidly and diluc can't help but chuckle again. "i loved santa as a kid." you explain. the sparkling of your eyes only grows brighter as the line moves up. "i knew he wasn't really pretty early on, but that didn't make him any less cool to me. it makes christmas really feel like... christmas, y'know?"

diluc hums in understanding. he did the same as a kid, but stopped as soon as kaeya ruined christmas by telling him that santa wasn't real. it didn't ruin the entire holiday for him, but diluc never forgot the immense disappointment he felt that day, nor did he ever let kaeya forget about the time he crushed his spirit.

it was dramatic, yes, but everything is serious in the eyes of a child.

once you two arrive at the front of the line, you hurry over to the mall santa and whisper something in his ear. the santa nods with a quiet laugh and adjusts himself for you to sit on his lap. diluc, who'd been curiously watching the entire interaction, finally speaks up.

"you're... going to sit on that man's lap just for a photo?" diluc winces internally as soon as the words leave his mouth. something unsightly rears its head when he sees you wiggle a bit as you try to get comfortable. mall santa rests his hand on your waist to keep you in place, and diluc really hopes he's not making a weird face right now. he balls his free hand into a fist in his pocket.

he's never been the biggest fan of this feeling. the urge to tug you out of mall santa's lap grows stronger with each passing second, but he does everything in his power to stomp it out when you look thrilled by the fact that you can be in the presence of santa.

"yeah, why? it brings back some fond memories," you reply, your smile never dimming. you clearly don't notice his agitation. of course you didn't; this was about you, not him.

diluc counts to three as quickly as he can and nods without a word. he raises your phone and manages to get about two photos in before he sees mall santa pull you in just a little bit closer. it's just a side hug and you lean into it with no hesitation, but diluc really doesn't think he wants to be here anymore. he takes about two more before closing your phone camera and waving it between his fingers. "all done," he says curtly.

you hop quickly out of mall santa's lap and dart over to view the photos. while you do, diluc keeps his eyes on the santa whose lap you were just sitting on. he's probably glaring at him, now that he's thinking about it. mall santa's eyes don't leave your direction until the next person comes up to him.

he's just doing his job; diluc's not an idiot. but if he's not, then why does he feel so... bitter?

thankfully, you beam up at diluc, distracting him from his sudden drop in mood. "these came out great!" you thank him with a quick kiss to the cheek before taking his hand and starting back in the direction you were heading before you got sidetracked.

as you walk, diluc suddenly tightens grip on your hand, almost to the point where it hurts. you glance at him to see if anything's wrong. at times, he'll do it because he doesn't want to alarm you when he sees something you don't, but looking at him now, you can't find that expression of muted caution on his face. instead, he looks annoyed and pensive.

"diluc, you're squeezing my hand." you wiggle your fingers and frown when diluc lets go with a soft apology. now he looks like he's beating himself up for something. you stop walking and step in front of him. "is everything okay? you look so upset."

diluc visibly grimaces at your concern. you can't see it, but his ears are burning. "it's... nothing." he lies through his teeth. he turns into the worst liar whenever you pressure him. picking up on your suspicion, he looks away. "let's keep going, yeah?"

"diluc.." you warn. "something’s bothering you. we're not going anywhere until you tell me."

"i said it's nothing. can we just--"

you shake your head patiently. "no, we can't. not when you're upset. we're here to enjoy ourselves, not stew in whatever problems we've got. talk."

diluc sighs in defeat. you're being so patient with him, but he can tell that it'll wear thin very soon if he doesn't talk; you've expressed your low tolerance for his habit of becoming tight-lipped whenever it suits him. "it's nothing serious, i promise." he tells you.

you don't say anything, you just raise an eyebrow, prompting him to continue.

diluc stifles a laugh. you're cute when you're annoyed. "but," he continues, furrowing his brows and not meeting your eyes, "i will admit, i... kind of wish you hadn't sat on that man's lap." he peeks over at you and makes a face when he sees you starting to look smug. "what are you..?"

"so you were jealous?" you snicker. "of santa claus?

"i feel ridiculous enough as it is, thank you." diluc deadpans. you chortle when you see his cheeks start to redden at your muffled laughter. "stop that. let's just go." he steps around you and starts walking away.

you jog after him, giggling all the while. "of santa claus, diluc? of all people?" you pause to laugh. you catch up to him and grab his hand, swinging it between the two of you slightly.

diluc huffs through his nose. you can finally see his red ears from here. "i'm ignoring you."

"should your lap be the only one i sit on?" you tease. you wheeze when diluc's blush deepens further. you're getting a real kick out of this. "i guess i know what i should get you for christmas now~" you sing-song.

diluc groans and covers his face with his free hand. "taking you outside has to be the worst mistake i've made today. you're insufferable."

you snort and raise his hand to kiss the back of it. "i love you too, diluc."

"...whatever."

✧ — 𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐝𝐞 — ✧

ah.. he would not take this situation as well as diluc

so, you two are at a christmas party

(i can hear you saying "zuzu, why is it always christmas parties?" because it's just practical, okay? i digress)

so. christmas party. people drunk off of eggnog with an obscene amount of rum in it (courtesy of none other than scaramouche)

you're not drunk and neither is childe, you two opted for the non-spiked drinks, unlike the other party goers

you have a friend who isn't drunk either, but he has this terrible habit of not saying no to people, so when some tipsy friends suggest he put on a santa hat and take pictures, he agrees

you and childe are laughing at the whole spectacle when someone suggests that you sit on his lap for a picture

"fine, fine," you concede, not wanting to hear your drunk friends pester you anymore. they can get pretty pushy under the influence, and after being the victim of their drunk demands several times, you've learned to just go along with it -- so long as it's reasonable, anyhow. you turn to your boyfriend and hold out your cup to him. "can you hold this for a second?" you ask.

childe just stares at you. "sorry?" he asks, as though he didn't hear you the first time. he was literally watching you this entire time, why was he acting like this? "what're you about to do?"

you roll your eyes and jerk your thumb in your friend's direction. "i gotta go sit in that loser's lap for some photos, so can you please do me a favor and hold this? he might be an asshole," you raise your voice so your friend can hear you, "and make me spill my stuff."

your friend flips you off and you turn to do the same, the two of you rocking matching grins. you turn back to your boyfriend who doesn't looks remotely as amused as you do.

"so... you're just going to sit on that man's lap for a photo," childe's question is less of a question and more of a dry statement, one of his eyebrows cocking up as he speaks. he huffs and mutters something you can't hear, but holds out his hand anyways.

you eye him suspiciously as you hand him your drink slowly. "okay," you drawl. not wanting to lean into this strange negativity that childe's created for himself, you head over to your friend and plop yourself on his lap.

"gross." your friend wrinkles his nose playfully at you. "you know bitches like you get coal for christmas, right?"

you slap the back of his head, snorting when he looks offended. "you're the worst fucking santa i've ever had. zero stars."

the two of you pose for the many photos and joke with each other the entire time, making newer and stupider poses with each one. after about three photos though, you get the feeling that someone's watching you. it shouldn't be strange, considering you have about four people taking photos and egging you on, but whoever is looking at you is beaming the side of your head -- so much so that you can almost feel the weight of their stare.

you look up when the photos are done to see where that was coming from and lock eyes with none other than childe. his face is blank, but it's still unsettling; his irritation is palpable. rather than approach him and ruin the mood, you look away from your boyfriend and talk to your friends for a while.

you hear retreating footsteps after no more than a few seconds, and you sigh. childe wasn't giving you a choice; you have to confront him if you want to keep having fun, so you start after him, following his bright hair to a secluded corner in the living room. he sits in an armchair and looks up at you.

neither of you speak for a little while; neither of you are proud of this, but each of you sometimes expect the other to read their mind whenever a problem arises. you're the first to pick up on it, grimacing slightly when you realize what you were doing.

"alright, party pooper," you cross your arms, "what suddenly crawled up your ass and died?"

childe's mouth twitches as he supresses the urge to laugh. he covers it up as fast as he can, but it's not fast enough; you saw that. you huff a soft chuckle through your nose as your boyfriend does his best to look annoyed again.

"you're done asking santa what you want for christmas?" he asks crossly, setting your drinks down on the floor beside the chair. "or was he asking you for something?"

you scoff out loud. "don't tell me you were jealous of that." you nip the situation in the bud as quickly as you can. knowing childe, he'd try to drag this out as long as he could with vague statements and backhanded compliments, but you're not that stupid, nor are you in the mood.

childe narrows his eyes. "i didn't realize it was so wrong to be bothered about the fact that my partner was in some other man's lap."

"you can be bothered," you agree, "but there's really no need to bring down everyone else with you when you're upset." you sigh. "you could've just... i dunno, told me in private? not do this weird sulking thing."

your boyfriend looks comically offended. "i don't sulk." he sighs and reaches out, pulling you down onto his lap without warning.

"you weren't even gonna give me a choice, were you?" you ask when you recover from your temporary shock. you wrap your arms around his neck on instinct and relax when you feel his arms tighten around your waist.

childe presses his nose against your cheek, making you shiver. "something tells me you weren't going to come if i asked." he murmurs. "but this is private enough, isn't it?"

you snort. "hardly. there's people everywhere--"

"i didn't like seeing you sit on your friend's lap," he cuts you off, kissing from your cheek down to your neck, "and i would much prefer it if you sat on mine. is that better?"

maybe you should've just waited to talk about this at home. you feel heat creep up your neck. "sorta? stop doing that, we're in public."

"that didn't seem to bother you and your friend much." childe bites at your neck harshly, chuckling when you reel back and put your hand over the area.

"the fuck was that for?!" you hiss. "biting me? seriously? what are you, a dog?"

your boyfriend looks satisfied, the expression only getting brighter when you move your hand. "i'd consider us even now." he goes back to burying his face in your neck, not budging when you try to push him away. you give up after a brief struggle and slump against him despite yourself. "see, was that so hard?"

"i hate you." you grumble.

"you can't hate me, it's christmas." childe whines. he pulls back to look at you, giving you his best wounded expression.

it's... hard to stay upset when he does things like this. it's hard to stay upset with him in general, actually. you kiss him quickly, rolling your eyes when he calls you mean for not giving him more. "that was your christmas gift," you shrug. "take it or leave it."

"there's more at home, isn't there?"

you flush. "...maybe."

"then, merry christmas to me."

✧ i do hope this was okay! i hope the end in particular is good.. oh boy,,

[tempobrucera]

PROMPT LIST

I just recently noticed that the 12 followers I had here when I started actually using this blog, turned into 200 over the last ... month or so and I don't know why or how. Thank you, it feels really like insanity 🥂🎉. Maybe because it gives me some joy and it's literally just writing and not much either on this blog, nothing else.

I'm gonna write some small blurbs between 500-800 (more like between 1k-1.5k, because that's apparently the length I can write) words each, can be shorter, longer.

Rules (there aren't many, don't worry): 1. You can pick up to 4 numbers from the prompt sentences, scenarios, mood / dynamics and the touches / kinks lists for one request (there are examples under the cut). The prompts are categorized but just because it says angst, doesn't mean it can't be requested as fluff. 2. Write SFW or NSFW or don't care into the request. 3. Let me know for who of the 4 (or 2? The scenarios are for 2 people, but can be written for more) (there's just one thing I cannot write which is nsfw Damiano, sorry). 4. That's it. Because there are endless possibilities with this, you can request more than one. I might close them at one point though. Feel free to reblog this. I'm gonna reblog this myself at one point, I know myself.

Thanks & Please go a long way : )

Taglist: @teatrodellavita, @teenyweenynightghost, @findaqueenwithoutaking, @findoutwhoyougonnacall, @little-moonbeam-666, @its-afucking-mess

Add Yourself to the taglist

Examples & Lists

1. Prompt Sentences:

Nonsense / General Stupidness / Idiots to Lovers / Drunk

1. "Am I an accomplice to a crime?"

2. "Please go away." - "We're handcuffed together, how am I supposed to-"

3. "Friends with benefits... isn't that like, for friends?" - "Don't think it's a requirement."

4. "I told you that you’d fall in love with me."

5. "I’m bored. Let’s bake something" - "It’s two in the fucking morning–" "So?"

6. "I know I should care about the reason why you’re naked in my bed, but I will just enjoy it for a moment."

7. "I'm sorry, I'm such an idiot." - "No, that's okay. Go on."

8. "Now if you excuse me, i'm gonna go set myself on fire."

9. "I love you." - "Hold up — what did you just say?" - "When?" - "Two seconds ago." - "I said you."

10. "You do know that’s a plastic plant, right?"

11. "You're an idiot." - "Takes one to know one."

12. "I wish I could say that this is the first time, I’ve been stabbed with a plastic spoon."

13. "Are you flirting with me?" - "I have been for the past year or so, but I appreciate you noticing."

14. "For the most part, I am, in fact, an idiot. But I fully admit to it, which should count for something."

15. "What are you doing here?" - "I got locked out of my house." - "Again?"

16. "What happened to your hand?" - "I hit my hand on something." - "On what?" - "Your ex's face."

17. "Why did you break up with them?" - "My dog didn't like them, and that is never a good sign."

18. "How about we save that kiss for some other time? Maybe, let's say, when you don't look like you're going to throw up on me?"

19. "Can you punch my face?"

20. "You’re a mess." - "Thank you for the lovely compliment."

21. "I fell in love with you." - "No, you fell down the stairs. You should really learn to hold your alcohol."

22. "I love you, but sometimes I want to throw you off a cliff."

23. "Alright— where’s the idiot?" - "Uh... I’m here." - "Surprisingly enough, I’m not talking about you this time."

24. "If you do that again I will throw you out the window you- what are you doing?" - "Checking how high the drop is to see if it's worth it."

25. "I’m not drunk. Can a drunk person do this?" - "You’re not doing anything." - "But… I sent you my love. Did you… did you not get it?"

26. "Here’s a spare key so you don’t have to keep coming in through the window."

27. "....Did you just sniff me?"

28. "If there’s nothing going on between the two of you, you don’t mind if I ask her out, do you?"

29. "I need you, you idiot." - "I am yours. No refunds."

30. "You've been here all night?" - "Of course. Why, was i supposed to sneak out?"

Fake Dating

31. "Yeah, well, I'm not paying you to like me. I'm paying you to laugh at my jokes and cling to me like a magnet so my ex doesn't think I miss them."

32. "They'll be in here in a second. Get naked." - "What? You didn't say anything about getting naked!" - "Just take off some of your clothes, I want them to think we're doing it!"

33. "This was all fake, this was just supposed to be fake you weren't supposed to tell me you love me!" - "And you weren't supposed to say it back!"

34. "It’s just going to be for one night and there will be so much food and drinks, you just need to say yes and maybe take my hand a few times that night."

35. "Are you doubting my acting skills?"

36. "I can’t believe you told them you were my fiancé."

37. "You want to practice kissing to make it believable? How about we practice having an argument and you sleeping on the couch?"

Comfort

38. "If it makes you feel better, I’ll let you brag about winning game night."

39. "You can lay your head in my lap if you want to."

40. "You okay? You look like you could use a hug."

41. "Alright, who am I beating up?"

42. "I heard you were feeling sick, so I made you some soup."

43. "You can lean on me if it makes you more comfortable."

44. "You make a good pillow."

45. "You can squeeze my hand if you need to."

46. "I'll sit here, with my arms wrapped around you, all night."

47. "Here, you can borrow my jacket."

Angst

48. "Look, i'm really sorry. You didn't deserve that."

49. "So we're breaking up over the phone? Touché."

50. "And you're here to do what, exactly? To apologize, or to feel better about yourself?"

51. "I know you've already moved on, but I'm still where we left off."

52. "All my friends told me you’d break my heart."

53. "Why did you wait until I moved on?"

54. "Come on, you're not okay." - "That obvious, huh?"

55. "It’s like you never really see me. I’m standing right in front of you and you don’t see me!"

56. "All you do is hurt people."

57. "I never would’ve thought (Person) would end up with someone else."

58. "I think I messed things up, I’m not in love with her, I’m in love with ..."

"Enemies" to Lovers / Hating eachother

59. "God, you really are the most annoying person on earth."

60. "Why are you so annoying?" - "Why are you so mad about it?"

61. "I don’t think I’ve ever heard you laugh at one of my jokes before."

62. "Go to hell." - "I'm sure the devil will greet us both with open arms."

63. "Are they fighting again?" - "Worse, they’re kissing."

64. "I am this close away from strangling you."

65. "Look, I know we're not... friends, but... i don't know where to go."

66. "You know, you could at least tell me to go to hell."

NSWF / Flirting

67. "We should probably leave, before we start a scandal."

68. "Maybe you could use that mouth for more than just talking nonsense."

69. "If you called just to get off on my voice, i’m hanging up."

70. "I saw that. You just checked out my ass."

71. "We should just get naked."

72. "If you keep fucking me this good, I'll marry you."

73. "This isn’t what I had in mind when I yelled fuck you."

74. "So... are you going to let me in, or would you rather I chat up the bartender?"

75. "The way your eyes get darker when you get aroused, is making me lose my mind."

General / Anything else

76. "Who needs them, we can have fun on our own."

77. "Do you think we’re friends / lovers in every universe?"

78. "How many times are we going to keep meeting like this?"

79. "Will they like me, or should I buy a copy of 'How to Make Friends and Influence People'?"

80. "Wait a minute, did you just choke on your (drink) because they're dating that asshole?"

81. "Pretty boy is with me!" - (...) - "Oh, I’m pretty boy?"

82. "Wasn't really under the impression you thought of me that way."

83. "You're anything but a saint."

84. "I'm sorry for bringing it up." - "Actually, I would love to kiss you."

85. "Dance with me." - "Right here?"

86. "I wonder, how many people are dead in that graveyard?" - "Hopefully all of them…"

2. Scenarios:

1. One day, Person A and Person B are both trapped in an elevator together.

2. Person A and Person B both get a little too tipsy at their weekly movie night and Person B always wants to cuddle when you’re both drunk.

3. Person A and Person B went thrift shopping together and found old love notes so now they're sitting on the couch reading them to each other in silly voices and suddenly Person A is nervous and wait a minute did Person B just use Person A's name .

4. Person A leaves baked goods for Person B anonymously, but Person B already knows that it's Person A.

5. Person A keeps making mixtapes and Spotify playlists for Person B that are full of an oddly high number of love songs, but Person B still hasn't figured out that they're confessions.

6. Person A has a hard time reaching something in the cabinet, Person B insists on helping them but Person A refuses, and Person B now has to watch as Person A climbs up the kitchen counter to reach the cabinet, terrified out of their mind that Person A will fall and hurt themselves.

7. Person B's favorite restaurant's giving out free food for Valentine's Day, but it's couples only so Person B is dragging Person A along with them.

8. Person B just ate all the caramel tartlets, so Person A pushes them on the couch to jokingly kiss them, and god their lips are sweet.

9. Person A is trying to have a conversation with Person B but Person randomly decides to splash their glass of water in Person A's face, having had enough of being serious.

10. Person A get's utterly drunk at a party. Person A is being grumpy picking fights with people for just looking at them but extra nice to Person B only. Including removing their clothes because they feel so hot and their shoes and completely forgetting about them. Only Person B can put the clothes back on them because they're the only ones allowed to touch but because Person A is drunk they also fall asleep everywhere because of that.

11. Person A and Person B almost burning down the house when making dinner because they're too busy making out.

12. Visit a christmas market and treat yourself with all the delicious sweets that are out there

13. Person A shows up at Person B's house drunk after they broke up Sorry. No break up anymore! People loved going for this one. Why?

14. Trying to bake cookies together and failing. It's one big mess and in the end, they are lying on the floor, covered in flour and not able to stop smiling.

15. Person A and Person B grocery shopping together. Person A stays strictly to the list while Person B tries to sneak a few extra items into the cart.

16. Person A got takeout from their favorite restaurant as a surprise and Person B decided to make a fancy meal to surprise Person A and now Person A is standing at the door with takeout bags while Person B is waiting for something in the oven, and they're laughing but also Person A is looking at Person B like maybe it's love?

17. One picking the other up to take them out on a date after they were stood up.

18. Person A and Person B wake up hugging each other and their noses are so close, and they stare into each other's eyes, not knowing what to do, afraid to break up the moment.

19. Person A shyly working up courage to hold Person B’s hand by continuing to brush against it, before Person B takes charge and grabs hold of it. Person A is getting all flustered.

20. Playing hide and seek at IKEA and being kicked out of the store.

3. Mood / Dynamics / Fanfic Tropes:

1. Fluff (Happy / Romantic)

2. Lazy / Sleepy

3. Angst

4. Sharing a first kiss

5. Confessing feelings

6. Friends with Benefits

7. Hurt / Comfort

8. Idiots to Lovers

9. Only one bed

10. Fake Dating

11. Having an argument / fight

12. "Enemies" to Lovers

4. Touches / Kinks:

1. Lifting someone up out of excitement

2. Nose kisses

3. Holding hands in a museum to pull them to the next exhibition

4. Cuddling for warmth

5. Shielding the other one with their body

6. Doing a pinky swear

7. Pushing a strand of hair behind their ear

8. Falling asleep on the other’s shoulder

9. Holding hands while one is balancing on a small wall

10. One doodling on the other’s hand.

11. Comparing hand-sizes to hold their hand against the other's and then just holding hands

12. Looking at their naked back, connecting the small moles with your fingers as if they were constellations.

13. One wiping a crumb from the other’s lips.

14. Touching foreheads.

15. Hickeys.

16. Semi Public

17. Sweat

18. Car Sex

19. Body Hair

20. Praise

[synmorite]

Good Girl, Bad Boy

Characters: F!Reader, Jared, Jensen

Pairing: J2 x F!Reader

Summary: Jared can't follow Jensen's rules, so Jensen uses Y/N to punish him.

Word Count: 2.2k+

Warnings: polyamory, orgasm denial, cock cages, dom/sub relationships, daddy!kink, dom!jensen, switch!reader, switch!jared, M/M sex, anal play, anal sex, oral (m/f receiving), a miniscule dash of fluff. Y'all this smut from the onset!

A/N: So @hoboal87 and I absolutely LOVE to discuss and theorize fics on Bee's Discord server. We work so well together that @writethelifeyouwant challenged us to collaborate on a fic. @negans-lucille-tblr provided the prompt, "Jensen needs to punish Jared, and he's using Y/N to do it." This was written through a series of reblogs, with Alex and I only writing one part at a time with no discussions about what the other was going to do. The original post is here.

Special thanks to @hoboal87 for putting all of the reblogs together, creating such an awesome graphic, and for finishing the fic when I had to tap out to go to sleep. 😂 This was so fun and I'm excited for the next time we do it. (I also highly recommend checking out Alex's masterlist. She has got some amazing fics on there.🥰)

My Masterlist

Alex's Masterlist

“Since you can’t do as you’re told, we’ll have to use this instead,” Jensen grunts as he fastens the cage around Jared’s now softening cock.

Y/N leaned forward and pulled Jared’s wrists up to hook them into the handcuffs attached to the headboard. Jared whined as Jensen grinned and said, “No touching now, baby boy.”

Y/N moves onto Jared thigh, positioning her bare pussy on top of him as Jensen ties Jared's ankles, keeping him spread eagle. Slowly, Y/N starts to rock forward on Jared’s thigh, spreading her slick along his skin. Jared’s gaze zeroed in on his shiny flesh as he let out a low moan at the sight.

"Nuh-uh, babygirl," Jensen scolds you, letting his voice drop. You were already tense from a day full of teasing and you both know its not going to take much for the coil to snap. "If you're gonna get off, you'd better have my cock in you."

Y/N stopped moving immediately with a small whimper.

“Remember that we’re punishing Jared for coming without permission. You don’t want to be punished too, do you? Now you know what to do next.” Y/N nodded as she ran her hand down Jared’s caged cock, to his balls, to his still gaping hole.

Slowly, Y/N started to tease Jared hole. Jensen had instructed him to keep a plug in him while he was in quarantine, edge himself over and over again, but no cumming. Jared, the brat, of course couldn't help himself, sending you a video of him jerking off, spilling himself onto his tan and taut stomach. He'd begged you not to show Jensen, but you knew better than to hide this from him, lest you get your own punishment.

Part of you just wanted to help Jensen punish Jared though. It was one of the few times that Jensen gave you some control. You still had the rules to follow, of course, but it meant that you could play with Jared and watch him become desperate underneath your hands, your fingers. You smiled as you teased a finger into Jared’s hole to press against his prostate as he jerked beneath you. Jensen laughed, “Better hold on tight if you’re gonna play that game Y/N.”

Your mouth waters as you watch Jared's cock twitch in its cage, and he lets out another whimper as you hit his prostate again. Jensen moves behind you, his hand connecting with the bare flesh of your ass. It's not enough to leave a mark, only to remind you that you might be currently domming Jared, but Jensen was the alpha in the room. You let out a low moan when Jensen's fingers run through your slick, and you can practically see the smirk on his face.

"My two perfect little cock-sluts," Jensen works his thumb over your tightest hole. "Whaddya think I'll be the best way to show Jare that he should always follow Daddy's orders?"

You shivered as you pressed back against Jensen’s finger. You worked another finger into Jared and pressed against his prostate again without letting up. Jared’s back arch and he let out such a delicious whine that had goosebumps rising all over your bare skin. Jensen slowly pushed his own thumb through the tight ring of muscles at your hole and you let out your own gasp. You worked yourself back and forth on his thumb before turning your head and asking Jensen, “Can I pick something from the toy box to use on him, Daddy?”

"I dunno, babygirl," Jensen tsks, slipping two fingers into your dripping pussy, causing you to gasp out. You'd been under the same orders as Jared; two weeks without cumming, and the feel of his thick digits inside of you almost sends you over the edge. "Our baby boy wants to be fucked, and I don't think it'll be much of a punishment" -- Jensen slides a third finger into you -- "if we give 'im what he wants."

Jensen twists and pumps his fingers inside you, searching until he finds that spot inside you. You pull your fingers from Jared’s hole unable to continue playing with him as you moan out. You lean forward draping yourself over Jared’s sweat slick skin as Jensen thrusts his fingers in and out, faster and faster. “No coming yet, baby girl. ‘Member what I said? Can’t come till it’s my cock in you.” You whined and nodded before pressing your mouth against Jared’s chest. After Jensen hit that spot again, you bit down into Jared’s chest leaving teeth marks as Jared gasped out and his cock twitched in its cage.

Jared tugs against his restraints, "please, Jen," he begs, "lemme touch." You love seeing Jared like this, desperate and needy, giving all control up to you and Jensen. You want to have his hands on you as well, but you'll have to wait until Jensen's done doling out Jared's punishment. The most you can settle for at the moment, is a rough and sloppy kiss from Jared. You run your hands into his hair, giving it a tug as your tongue licks into his mouth.

“No, no baby boy. Y/N was a good girl, she waited like she was supposed to. You were bad. You don’t get to touch. You don’t get to decide.” Jensen taunted. He came around the side of the bed closest to Jared. Jared looked up at him as you ran your fingertips down his chest, sucking dark marks into the tan skin as you went. Jared whined at Jensen again. “Please Daddy? I can be good!” Jared pulled involuntarily at the restraints again as you tugged a nipple between your teeth. Jensen smirked down at you both before leaning down taking Jared’s mouth hungrily with his own. You watched the kiss, feeling the wetness pooling even more between your thighs. Jensen pulled away and Jared chased his lips, but Jensen stayed just out of reach. “Why don’t you prove it, baby boy?” Jensen said with another smirk.

Jared nodded eagerly, and Jensen let out a barely audible good boy. Jensen brought his lips to yours and smacked your ass again with a command of ‘up.’ You lift your ass into the air, straddling your body over Jared’s, letting your breasts just barely touch his chest. The sound of Jensen removing his belt is like music to your ears, and you can feel yourself getting wetter by the second. Jensen wastes no time, swiftly entering you and burying himself to the root. You’re glad he started to open you up with his fingers, otherwise you wouldn’t be able to enjoy this nearly as much. He holds himself there for a moment, before grabbing you by the nape of your neck, bringing your back flush to his chest. “Bet it won’ take ya long to cum, will it, slut?” he grunts as he starts thrusting into you.

You reach your hands down and grip onto Jared’s hips to hold on as Jensen thrusts grow harder and deeper. You can feel the coil tightening and tightening in your belly as Jensen’s hand slides around the front of your throat gripping just tight enough. His other hand slides down over your breasts and belly to start circling your clit harshly. You close your eyes and lean your head back on Jensen’s shoulder, panting. You feel Jensen bite at your neck before whispering into your ear, “Open your eyes baby girl. Look at what we’re doing to our boy.” You open your eyes and look down at Jared. His knuckles are white as his large hands are wrapped around the chain of the handcuffs and his hips are jerking up softly as his cock leaks precum onto his beautiful stomach. He’s making soft whines and whimpers that immediately make you remember the video he sent to you. The one that got him in trouble. Your gaze moves up from his cock and belly over all the little marks you left on his chest, and over his throat that is tensed as his Adam’s apple bobs up and down with each deep swallow. Finally, your hungry gaze meets his and you cum with a scream as you meet his lust black eyes.

“See?” Jensen grunts, moving one of his hands down your belly and over your clit. He starts rubbing you, working you through your orgasm and straight into another. You’ve barely come down before the coil snaps again and you sag against Jensen’s body.

“Those who follow the rules get rewarded.” If you weren’t on cloud nine, you’d feel bad for Jared, his cock straining against the cage. “Whaddya want now, babygirl?” Jensen groans as he slows his hips. You’re too orgasm drunk to form any coherent thoughts, all you want now is Jared’s mouth, and Jensen seems to notice when your eyes fall on them and you lick your lips. “You wan’ Jared to eat my cum out of you?” Jensen taunts, and you nod your head.

“Okay, baby, because you’ve been such a good girl, we’ll let Jared use his perfect mouth.” Jared hums in approval, and Jensen speeds up his thrusts, and after a few moments, he’s cumming hot and sticky inside you. He pulls out quickly, and you can feel him dripping down your thighs as you crawl back over Jared, placing your pussy above his mouth.

You grip the headboard next to the handcuffs and lower yourself down. Jared leans forward and licks up your inner thighs collecting the cum that escaped your pussy. He hums happily at the taste as he makes his way to your still dripping hole. The chain rattled as Jared pulled against them again. His long tongue dipped into your hole as you pushed down onto him more.

“Would you like me to remove the handcuffs?” Jensen asked from behind you. Jared pulled back a little as you moved your hips to follow his mouth and said “Yes, Daddy.” Jensen chuckled.

“Oh, baby boy, I wasn’t asking you. I was asking Y/N. Do you want Jared to be able to hold you still? While he eats every last drop of my cum?”

“Yes, please daddy. Please let him touch me.” You whined out.

“Ok, baby girl. For you.” Jensen reached forward and opened the cuffs, releasing Jared’s wrists. His hands immediately flew to your hips and yanked you further down onto his mouth. You let out a gasp as Jensen warned, “That’s the only place you can touch for now, baby boy. No where else.”

Jared agrees happily against your pussy, humming as his tongue moves frantically through your folds. His grip on your thighs tighten, and you’re sure that there will be imprints of his hands bruised on you tomorrow, not that you mind. You grind your pussy against his face harder, chasing one final orgasm, but you wanted to be able to see Jensen when you came-- another punishment for Jared. His name, not Jared’s, is the one you’re going to scream out. As you feel your third orgasm start to crest, you stop, and reach behind you for Jensen, you don’t feel him there, and you let out a needy whine. You turn your head and see Jensen on his belly, tonguing Jared’s hole, and slowly stroking his now-released cock. You reach out and tug on his short strands, not enough to elicit a punishment, but just to get his attention.

“What’s a-matter, baby?” Jensen pulls up, and Jared groans at the loss of Jensen.

“Need you, Daddy,” you moan. “Wanna see you when I cum.”

You turn yourself around so that you’re now facing Jensen, who starts working his cock into Jared. You lean forward, so that Jared’s cock is right under you, you look up at Jensen with wide eyes, asking silent permission to take his cock in your mouth.

“You don’t cum until I say so,” Jensen places his hand on Jared’s thigh, and you know he’s talking to both of you. “If you do, I’ll only be using those slutty mouths of yours for the next two weeks, and you won’t be able to cum that whole time, is that understood?”

You lift off of Jared slightly so that Jensen can hear a “Yes, Daddy,” from each of you.

You work Jared into your mouth, swirling your tongue around him, hollowing your cheeks and taking him as deep as you can. One of Jared’s hands disappears from your thigh as starts teasing your hole, working you into a frenzy. Jensen either doesn’t notice or doesn’t care, but you’re sure that he’ll make Jared pay for his disobedience later. When Jensen gives him permission, Jared cums with a groan, hot and salty down your throat, and you greedily swallow every drop.

Jensen then pulls out of Jared, stroking himself as his spills over Jared’s stomach. “If you’re good, next time I’ll cum in this tight little ass of yours,” he scolds. “Now, since Y/N is the only one who can be a good girl, you’ve got 30 seconds to make her cum, or you’ll be wearing that cock cage for another week.”

Jensen scoops up his cum with his fingers, and brings them to your mouth, where you eagerly suck them dry. It only takes another moment before you cum a final time on Jared’s face. You take a moment to catch your breath before crawling off of Jared, and lay down next to him, Jensen appearing at your other side, sandwiching you between the boys.

“Y’all miss me?” Jensen breaks the silence.

“You know it’s not the same when you’re not here,” Jared speaks over you. “Now that The Boys is done, you can have a role on Walker. Come home to us every night.”

[queridopascal]

The new job (Din Djarin x F!Reader)

Part 1 of the “Ad Astra” series

Summary: as your eyes scanned the page, the words “spatial coordinates” and the phrase “writings and symbols no one has been able to decipher” made your eyes widen and your interest spike... (word count: 1.7k)

Warning: mention of food and drinks

A/N: my first ever Mando fic/series (even though we don't get to meet him in this first chapter)! Huge thanks to @hnt-escape for beta reading, and I hope you guys enjoy it ✨

Reblogs and comments are highly appreciated ❤️

NEXT | SERIES MASTERLIST

Sitting alone in your home office with a mug of coffee in your hand, you shuffled through the heap of unopened mail you found upon your return from your last expedition: advertising brochures, leaflets, bills and, at the bottom of the stack, a cream-coloured paper envelope with slightly torn edges.

Prompted by curiosity, you put down the mug and opened the letter with an old knife you kept in the first drawer: it was typewritten, dated 25th of September and signed at the bottom by a certain Elizabeth Williams.

As your eyes scanned the page, the words “spatial coordinates” and the phrase “writings and symbols no one has been able to decipher” made your eyes widen and your interest spike. Your work as an archaeologist had given you the opportunity to travel the world, discover different types of artifacts and ruins, get closer to cultures and their ancient origins; but something inside of you, a feeling in your gut, was telling you that what was described in the letter was unique and, possibly, something you had never seen before.

Without giving it a second thought, you dialed the phone number scribbled underneath the signature and waited with bated breath as you began fidgeting with a pen, clicking it open with every beeping sound coming from the other side.

“Hello?” a calm tone greeted you.

“Mrs. Williams?” you asked, clearing your throat.

“Yes, it’s me.”

“Hi, I’m-”

“I know who you are, I’ve been waiting for your call.” the woman said with a smile in her voice.

“Oh,” you gasped, “I... received your letter and I would love to hear more about this artifact you mention.”

“Great. I’ll have someone pick you up tomorrow morning at 9 sharp.”

“Thanks, Mrs Williams,” you nodded, “do I… have to bring anything?”

“Your knowledge will be sufficient, my dear.”

Once you both ended the call, you took a deep breath and closed your eyes, feeling anxious and impatient for what was about to come and reliving the exact same sensations you had experienced the day of your very first excavation.

After a sleepless night, you were awakened by the furious pitter patter of heavy rain against the windows. The dark grey of the sky made every room of your house incredibly cold and humid, and you put on your favorite cardigan as you dragged your feet into the kitchen to prepare something for breakfast.

When you finished eating, you took a quick shower and got dressed in your favorite black pencil skirt and a white blouse, a matching blazer and a pair of heels completed the look. You took a seat on the couch in your living room and waited for the driver.

At 9AM there was a knock at your front door, and you immediately grabbed your blazer and your purse and walked over to it.

“Good morning, Miss,” the driver bowed his head a little and extended his gloved hand to you while opening a black umbrella with the other. “Please, follow me. Mrs. Williams and her colleagues are waiting for you.”

You put your hand in his as he walked you over to the sedan; he opened the car door and waited for you to get in, shutting it swiftly once you got comfortable in the cream leather back seat.

After a two hours drive, the car stopped in front of a wired mesh and barbed wire fence, lined with several “Military Zone” signs. A couple of seconds later, the guarded gates opened with a screech, letting the car enter what looked like a tunnel carved inside of a mountain.

The driver pulled up in front of a large white door with soldiers on either side, where an elderly woman waited with crossed arms.

“Goodmorning my dear,” the woman stepped towards you. “I’m Elizabeth. Welcome to the Falls Hill military installation.”

She hugged you tightly and you stiffened at first, looking at the two soldiers, whose eyes were fixed on a point in front of them.

“Come, I’ll show you around.”

One of the guards stepped to the side and held the door open for you and Mrs. Williams. The large corridor that extended in front of you reminded you of a war bunker: it was grey and cold, illuminated by pale neon lights, and it had the same distinctive smell you would find in the subway.

You followed her obediently, and when she reached the end of the corridor, she slowly opened a set of double doors bearing an "Authorized Personnel Only" sign; taking a step forward, your mouth dropped open in wonder as soon as you laid eyes on what looked like a giant stone ring covered with strange inscriptions.

“I've never seen anything like this,” you gulped, keeping your eyes fixed on the object.

Mrs. Williams chuckled, pleased at your reaction. “No one has, my dear.”

“Can I…?” you asked in a trembling voice as you pointed at the artifact.

Elizabeth nodded and you walked over to it, placing your hand on the rough surface of the stone to feel the engraved characters under your fingers.

“These inscriptions,” you started, turning to her, “might be hieratic or maybe cuneiform, I think I've seen some of those symbols before.”

“Perhaps you could help us with the interpretation?” she moved to stand beside you and tilted her head to the side, looking at you expectantly.

“Yeah, of course. I'll get to work right away.”

The hours passed quickly, and between one cup of coffee and another, it was already evening. The succession of symbols and characters engraved in the stone kept repeating in your mind, a mix of infinite combinations and interpretations, from the most logical to the least plausible.

Wrinkling your eyes for tiredness, you looked up from all your papers and notes, finding a new possible interpretation of the second row that made your heart race.

“Mrs. Williams, was anything else found in the proximity of this object?”

“I was hoping you'd ask me,” she smiled and motioned you to follow her.

Elizabeth led you through a hallway and stopped in front of another door, resting both hands on the opening handle.

“You are not to speak of this to anyone, understand?”

You simply nodded, your breath catching in your throat at her request.

“Mrs. Williams, I haven't issued any new authorization papers for this lady.” a baritone voice captured your attention, and you turned around only to find a soldier in uniform staring back at you.

“Colonel Shaw, it's nice to see you again,” Elizabeth greeted him with a gentle smile, but the man looked at her with a serious and impenetrable gaze.

“Mrs. Williams, I don't think I'll have to remind you that what's inside this room is classified.” he walked over to the both of you, his expression unfazed.

“She's the new addition to my team, Colonel,” she said, looking him straight into his icy blue eyes, “a world-renowned archaeologist who is going to help us decipher the inscriptions on the stone ring.”

“Exactly. Then why are you here?” he glanced at you out of the corner of his eye.

“Because,” you cleared your throat “the second row of inscriptions refers to another object, described as the portal.”

The Colonel raised an eyebrow at you and sighed, then looked at Elizabeth.

“Permission denied.”

“Excuse me, Colonel Shaw. I was told you would have given me carte blanche, especially since the government authorized this project,” she stepped towards him with her usual calm tone.

“Not for long,” he retorted, “you have one more week Mrs. Williams, the clock is ticking. And since she doesn't have any authorization at the moment, I won't grant her access into this room.”

“Then I guess I'll have to ask Captain Gallo,” she crossed her arms. “See, he was the one who helped us get started with this project and I'm sure he would authorize this young lady in a heartbeat.”

The Colonel exhaled angrily, his jaw was clenched in frustration and you smiled to yourself.

“Fine,” he said through gritted teeth “You have my permission.”

6 days later

Staring at the portal, the inscripted characters on dark metal and stone looked so similar to something you had seen before, but also so different. You felt intimidated by that object, almost in awe, it was as if it gave off vibrations within the room, as if it wanted to give you clues to solve that riddle that had been keeping you and the rest of the team awake for days.

“Morning guys,” Elizabeth walked into the research lab with a box of donuts, “I brought something to eat.”

“Thanks,” you beamed at her as you took a glazed donut from the container. “I really needed something with sugar.”

“How is the research going?”

“Bad,” Linda, one of the members of the team, shook her head, “no matches whatsoever.”

“Is that so?” Elizabeth turned to you, her expression somber.

“Yeah,” you sighed, “even if the inscriptions look familiar to us, when comparing them to all the material we have available, we found no similarities. We’re missing something and tomorrow is the last day.”

“I’m gonna ask for a permit extension, I'm sure they'll grant it to me,” she stroked your back, comforting you.

“I found another reference!” Linda squealed with excitement “Shall we start with the comparison?”

“Absolutely,” you rushed to her side and took a seat on the corner of her desk, looking at the monitor of her computer.

The documents she had just found showed incredible similarities, and referred to an engraved metal fragment found a few months earlier in the Atacama Desert.

“These three symbols are exactly the same ones of the central row!” you exclaimed, not believing your eyes.

Linda nodded, then gulped, “They also say here that they found out some symbols represent a stylized version of constellations, and that this type of metal is not…”

“Terrestrial,” you added as you kept on reading the description under one of the pictures.

Mrs. Williams looked at the both of you with a proud smile, then she walked over to the other desk and dialed a number on the phone.

“Captain, we finally found a match for the inscriptions.”

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[sebstanseabass]

Afterglow (A Bucky Barnes AU fan fiction) - Chapter 10

Afterglow chapters

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader

A/N: Thank you guys so much for the support and feedback! I'm so glad you're enjoying this fanfic <333 Feel free to like, reblog and comment. Would love to hear more of your thoughts! Love u guys <3

CHAPTER TEN

Just like last time he was here, Bucky grabbed some cereal box, poured the contents on a bowl followed by a tall glass of milk dumped over, making a mess on the kitchen island like a ten-year-old kid. You just finished changing into some new clothes when he finished pouring the milk in the bowl.

You followed into the kitchen, pouring yourself a hot cup of coffee from Peter's new coffee maker he got just two weeks ago and cleaned the mess that Bucky had left.

"How is it," you started just as he was about to walk out, "that you can flawlessly make a drink without making a huge mess but not with a cereal?"

He plopped down on the couch and placed his feet on the coffee table and turned on the television. He shrugged in response, eating a mouthful. "I was just trying to impress you. You're Peter's best friend. I want you to like me."

You just hummed and sat down on the love seat as soon as you finished, lifting your knee to your chest and letting the warm liquid slide at the back of your throat, letting the caffeine sit in me. You gave him no response as you didn't know what else to tell him. You just gazed at him, watching him like a hawk, as he continued to take a mouthful.

But you weren't staring at him like you did before. You were, somehow, trying to read his mind because the person sitting right now on your couch felt and looked so much different from the person who kept giving you lingering stares at the bar. One moment he was complimenting your photos, and the next your face. It felt like there were two of him and you didn't know which one attracted you more.

No one had ever looked at your photos the way he did. No one had ever talked about your photos the way he did. And no one had ever succeeded in getting a sudden yet fleeting internal reaction from you by calling you "doll."

"It's rude to stare, doll."

Except Bucky.

You apologized, and averted your gaze from him towards the television screen which showed the news channel. You took a huge sip of your coffee and ignored the searing pain of the hot liquid on the roof of your mouth. That's gonna leave a mark.

You hibernated inside your room for the next few hours, watching some sitcom on your laptop. You would hear Bucky yelling at the television screen from time to time or into his phone. Some names unfamiliar to you were mentioned. You hated the feeling of isolating yourself from the world but here you were, cocooning because you didn't know how else to be around Bucky after what happened that one night.

Plus, it felt like you were a child stuck with your babysitter.

He would knock on your door, check up on you, ask you if you needed some snacks, or if you wanted to do anything else besides locking yourself up in your room. The last time he called out for you, he was asking you to lunch, to the little Italian place across the building. Starving, you agreed to come with him only if he paid.

He just shook his head with a smile on his face. "I feel like you're taking advantage of me."

"I am." You said, locking the apartment door behind. "It's not like everyday I'm out with a rich guy."

"You gotta stop calling me that. I'm not rich rich."

"Compared to me, Buck," you said, "you are. Come on, let's go, I'm starving."

Just as you anticipated, Marco was beaming at you two once you entered his place, clearing a way for you, parting the customers like Moses did with the Red Sea. He pulled out two chairs for you and Bucky. Marco, as you assumed, was more than happy to see Bucky and more of his money. Bucky shook hands with Marco, thanking him.

Once you ordered, you turned towards Bucky who was busy looking at the photos of the gorgeous places in Italy on the walls. There was a bridge of silence between you as you continued to stare at him, still trying to read him. He may be an open book but it felt like his pages were complete blanks. Pages that were deep, far away from the cover, hidden and hoping to never see the light of day.

"Hey, Bucky?" you said, grabbing his attention. "What did you mean that night? When you told me I was something else? And please, don't give me one of those 'you're not like most girls' crap." You gave a snort of disgust.

He chuckled, biting the inner part of his lower lip before speaking. "I wasn't, anyway. You just intrigue me, that's all."

You subtly glance at him. "I intrigue you?"

"Yes, honestly you do. And you're fun to be with. It's not everyday someone agrees with me to scare off a one night stand the first day we meet." He laughed. "And I would like to get to know you better. And not just here."

You knitted your brows together in utter confusion. "Wait, what do you mean not just here?"

He shrugged, his eyes leaving yours and looked at somewhere else besides you. "Like outside."

"Like outside?" You repeated, the realization dawning on you. "Bucky, are you asking me out on a date?"

Bucky lifted his head and proceeded to look at the spotty ceiling, his lips curved downward. "If you want it to be."

You chuckled, shaking your head. "I don't think it's a good idea."

Then, he shot his head towards you, an agonizing frown marring his perfectly chiseled face. "Why not?"

You could think of many reasons why it would be a bad idea. First, you haven't been on a date for a very long time. Every person who had asked you out never had the luck of receiving a good answer from you. Second, Bucky was a complicated man.

And third, it would feel like betraying Peter.

"You're Peter's stepbrother." You sighed, defeated. "I can't do that to him."

"Right. Peter."

Marco came just about damn time to give you your newly-cooked food. Bucky ordered the same thing he got last time he was here: an Aglio Oglio pasta, paired with two large slices of pizza and garlic bread while you got a footlong Italian sub dripping with Marco's secret family sauce he never dared reveal. Marco said something in Italian before going back to the counter to tend to other customers.

Bucky smiled at you before you started digging in and began to speak. "How about this? Just two friends hanging out, not in the apartment, not here, not even at the bar, and getting to know one another. No funny business. Just like this. How does that sound?"

"As long as you promise not to give me those weird creepy stares you've been giving me since last night."

"Please, you also couldn't keep your eyes off me." He rolled his eyes. "Plus, I do have to admit you do look hot making drinks." He scrunched up his nose, taking a bite of his pizza without his eyes leaving yours.

A wave of confidence surged right through you, prompting you to ask this next question: "Did the whole cleavage thing push things?" You winked.

Bucky tilted his head to the side, just like he did this morning in the apartment, swallowing his food. "I'm not gonna lie, doll, that was also pretty hot."

"You should thank my friend Nat for that then."

He smirked. "I'll be sure to. So, uh, are you in?"

"What kind of question is that?"

"Well, I don't know how you kids these days ask things. Is it like that? I feel like it is."

You rolled your eyes, chucking a piece of garlic bread to his face. "I'm not a kid. By the way, how old are you?"

"I'm turning thirty-nine next month."

"Thirty-nine." You repeated. "Wow, if we were to go on a date, you'd be the oldest guy I've dated."

"Well, I'd be honored."

After your little lunch, Bucky went back to his office in his penthouse to deal with a few things with his associates while you, on the other hand, headed to the bar and started to fix all the stuff accordingly. A few hours later, Nick and Nat silently creeped up behind you, scaring the shit out of you and nearly making you drop the bottle of whiskey you were holding. You scolded both of them which they just, in turn, shrugged off.

You pulled Nat into one of the booths, making sure you were out of Nick's sight and wouldn't be able to hear you.

"Bucky kind of asked me out on a date." You whispered.

"Holy shit, I knew it. I knew he has the hots for you!" She said with a voice louder than you would've liked.

"Sshh, keep your voice down! I don't want Nick to hear this."

"Oh right, 'cause of the whole thing."

"Yes." You replied. "So anyway, I told Bucky it wouldn't be a good idea because it feels like I'm betraying Parker."

"He's just his stepbrother. Honey, you wouldn't be betraying anyone at all."

"But Parker's my best friend -- "

"Exactly." Nat's eyes bore into yours. "He's just your best friend, not your boyfriend so go date whoever you want to date. Just not Nick. He's kind of a loser."

"Isn't there some kind of code?"

"Like a bro code?"

"Yes, something like that."

"Did you and Peter have an agreement that you shouldn't date his stepbrother?"

You shook your head no.

"Then it's okay."

"Isn't dating your friend's siblings a part of some unspoken rule?"

She rolled her eyes at you, obviously fed up with all the excuses you have been trying to make. "As long as you're not hurting anyone then it's fine."

An exasperated sigh came out of your mouth. "Well, Bucky seemed to kind of agree to it, so what was supposed to be a date turned into just friends hanging out and getting to know each other. His words, not mine."

"Right, and once you get to know each other, you two can go on expensive dates and such."

"I don't know, it doesn't feel right."

"Now, now, don't be too sudden with that thought. Deep down you kind of want this to happen. If you didn't, you wouldn't be having second thoughts about this."

Oh, what you would give to prove Nat wrong but there was nothing else you could give because you knew she was right. You were fleetingly staring at Bucky as much as he did with you. And right from the get-go, there was spontaneity which opened up a whole new thrill in you. Something you never thought you'd ever feel.

The rest of the night felt excruciatingly slow.

There were some familiar faces in the crowd and some unfamiliar ones brought in by the regulars, having fun on Saturday night. While you were taking orders and making drinks left and right, your eyes kept roaming in the nameless faces inside the bar, hoping to see Bucky but your hopes were crushed when you found no sign of him. You were forced to take your mind off him for once as you were flooded with more orders, and complicated drinks that weren't on the menu. In the middle of your shift, there was even a small argument between a college student and a man in his thirties at the pool table. Eventually, the man, assaulting the poor boy, got kicked out of the house by Steve which was just a piece of cake with all the muscles he was packing.

Steve approached you with a stern look on his face. "If you see that guy again, don't let him in anymore alright? I don't want any fights in my bar."

"Got it." You said, taking note of the man's face from earlier. You warned the other bartenders beside you and the waitresses going around. You sighed, thinking to all the times you've told Steve to hire bouncers for the place but he just said:

"What do you need bouncers for when I'm here?"

And it was kind of hard to argue with that because it did make sense. The only problem was he was always cooped up in that small office of his. You never bothered to learn the secrets he was keeping in there. He couldn't always be doing work stuff. But after a few weeks of working with him, it was best to let those things slide as he was your boss.

Once your shift ended, you texted Bucky where he was but you never got a reply. You exchanged numbers right before he went back to the White Wolf.

You were greeted by an unlocked apartment once you got there but there was no sign of Bucky.

"Bucky?" You called out his name as you removed your jacket and placed it on the coat rack just beside the door. "Are you here?"

Silence answered you back. You went into your room and changed your shirt into something a bit more comfortable: an oversized sweater. A few seconds after you changed, you received a message from Bucky telling you to go to the rooftop.

You immediately went up, the chilly New York air touching your cheeks. You emerged from the ladder with a bewildered look crossing your face. The once grimy floor of the rooftop was perfectly cleaned up, leaving no dust and dirt behind. There were two large crates in the middle, big enough for two people to sit on. On top of the crate were a large box of pizza (you assumed it was from Marco's), and two bottles of ice cold beer.

"What on earth?" You gasped, finding Bucky emerging from behind a big box just casually standing against the brick walls.

"Hey, doll." He greeted you with a cheeky smile.

You stepped towards him, enveloping yourself in a hug in an attempt to warm yourself up against the cool air. "Did you clean our rooftop?"

"I may or may not have. Who knows? Anyway, I got us some pizza. I figured you were hungry from your late shift."

As a matter of fact, you really were. Drained from the endless orders and demands, you usually didn't have the time to sneak a bite of food or even a sip of water.

"I got the pizza from Marco's. He's a really nice man and was more than glad to see me when I stopped by."

"Of course he was." you laughed, sitting down on one of the crates. You opened the box, your mouth already drooling from the sight of Marco's mouth-watering pizza. "He likes the dough. Ha! Get it?"

He rolled his eyes at you but with a hint of a small smile in his lips as joined you on the crates. "So, are you gonna spend the night in the apartment?" You asked.

"Yes."

"What, got another girl back in the penthouse?" You teased, nudging his shoulder.

He gave you a throaty, sarcastic laugh. "This time, no."

"Too bad. I was ready to give a performance of a lifetime." You chuckled, glancing at him sideways and catching him with a big smile on his face.

You looked around you. The only source of light you had was the city lights towering above, and ahead of you. "You know," you started, "if you hung those little lights on the walls or just above us, this would seem like a date."

He pretended to wipe some sweat off his forehead. "Phew, dodged a bullet over there huh?"

You giggled, tipping the cap off the ice cold light beer and bringing the top of the bottle to your mouth. The liquid felt cold in your mouth but soon warmed up, nestling inside your stomach.

"This is nice." you commented then started to ramble on some more. "It'd be nicer to see New York during sunset though. Ever since I got the night shift in the bar, I rarely do. It's all the traffic and bright city lights."

You painted Bucky a picture of the last sunset you've watched. You had no recalling memory when it was but you remembered it as another cold day (but not as cold as tonight). The colorful sunset hues plastered in the high skies. Seeing it from the rooftop felt like they could easily be reached, as if they were wanting to be touched. And without a warning, the sun started to go down millisecond by millisecond.

"To others, what happens after a sunset is just another sign of the darkness to come. And then poof, city lights." you continued, then proceeded to gesture at the sky. "But for me, the feeling after a sunset is what I love the most. The sun wallowed in serenity in the pale break of light in between those dark clouds forming. Ugh, I just love that."

"I see what you mean." Bucky hummed, withdrawing his eyes to the sky to look at you. "It's like an afterglow."

"Yes, like an afterglow." You agreed, meeting his intense gaze. "If seeing something so beautiful makes you feel good then the after of it all must be... more pleasurable."

"A lot of people tend to miss that detail after sunset." He replied. "But not you. You're a photographer, y/n. The details in nature, in people are some things you can never miss."

You just hummed in response, taking a huge sip of your beer. " So, when did your love for photography start?" Bucky asked.

"It started when I was young." You replied. "I would play around with my parents' digital cameras, take photos of literally everything around me, especially when we were on vacation. It was just a hobby then. I never thought of it as a means of living until I was in college. God, I hated business school. Every second of it. I just did it to make my parents happy but I really wanted to be out there, embracing people, embracing everything in life. It's like -- "

"Capturing people's stories in a different light?" He continued for you, as if reading your mind.

"Exactly." You smiled, quite happy that he saw it the way you usually did.

"If it wasn't for the hotel business I also would've been an artist. Maybe an actor."

"So, why didn't you?"

"Because business is all I know." He sighed. "Tony Stark, the guy who adopted me, taught me everything there was to know. As he was building his empire, he pulled me towards it and now, I'm running one of his hotels. Y'know, I don't think of him as a father or anything. More like a friend, a wingman."

And just like that, Bucky peeled himself like an onion. Slowly. Layer by layer by layer. But then he stopped. He opened his mouth to say more but then he decided to stop. You waited but nothing else came out. As much as he wanted to know you, you too wanted to know him — and not just his wild adventures but the things that were deeper than that.

It felt nice to talk to Bucky this way. Actually, it wasn't just nice. It was very comfortable that it gave you a warm sensation on your chest.

Seeing that he wasn't as comfortable as he was before opening up, you steered to a different topic. "Have you ever felt that kind of feeling?" you asked.

"What feeling?"

"The afterglow feeling."

"No," he chuckled, "I don't think so. I'm stuck in a routine, y/n. Business, party, booze, girls. Nothing exciting, nothing out of the ordinary. Everything's the same, everything feels like nothing after."

You agreed with him. "I guess I'm also stuck in a rut." You harmonized with his laughter, seeing your life flash before your eyes. "Cheers to that."

With that, you drank the night away.

[solesurvivorpaigeargot]

HOLY HELLO, friends and followers! It's once again that time, time for...

SKETCHY SATURDAY!

This week, we're bringing back one of my favorite types of prompt-- the Quote prompt!

This one is pretty simple, but I still gotta lay down the rules. Follow me past the read-more if you're wanting to participate this week!

This week is all about the dialog-- requesters may select a character and a quote to send in, after which I'll do the rest. If you're an old hand at this event, this is exactly the same as previous quotation prompts, just with an updated quote list.... buuuuut you can still validate my time spent writing the guidelines every week by reading them anyway XD

For the rest of ye, ONWARDS!

To send a VALID request for this week's Sketchy Saturday, send an ASK to my ASKBOX containing the following:

The CHARACTER you'd like sketched ---- Canon? Yep! OC? Hell yes! Everybody's welcome so long as they're from the Fallout Universe! ---- One character per ask ---- Sending an OC? Send your request ask FIRST, and THEN send reference info to my Tumblr IM ---- Don't have a reference image? Text description is fine! Going from text lets me flex my character design muscles!

The NUMBER of your selected quote ---- Numbers help me find things faster, but you can transcribe the quote, too, if you wanna. ---- Got more than one favorite? List up to three, in order of preference. If someone else has used your first choice, I'll move on to your second [or third]. ---- Still can't choose? Send me 'Dealer's Choice!' and I'll pick one... or maybe make up something new on the spot ;3

As always, I'd like to remind everyone that the artist is a singular human, managing this event to try and give people some joy during a time when there seems to be a dwindling supply. Please remember to be polite, say please and thanks, reblog the art after it's finished, make 'oooo' noises in the tags, all that good shit.

Kay? M'kay.

And with that all outta the way... THE QUOTES!

CW for a lot of colorful language, implied violence, and general vulgarity XD

“Excellence knows no age.”

"Whoa, whoa, calm down-- my metaphorical dick can only get so hard."

"Like... a broken clock is right twice a day, but I feel like I'm insulting the clock with that comparison."

"You know, people in this town have a habit of getting in over their heads... like at the bottom of the ocean."

"What the fuck is that look for?"

"Shhhhh.... the adults are talking."

"I did NOT just spend six days in a hole to NOT get drunk at the first opportunity."

"And whether you believe that... or you're correct, it makes a nice hot take."

“Goddamnit, we fought a revolution so we wouldn’t have to pay any attention to the FUCKING British!

“We plan ahead; that way, we don’t do anything right now."

"If you don't stop smirking at me like that, I'm gonna have to kiss you."

"Shenanigans! I'm calling Shenanigans!!"

"Fuck you guys, I'm going home."

"That would imply some kind of agency-- I assure you, I did not CHOOSE this in any capacity."

"On a scale of one to ten, I think I'm hanging out somewhere in the concept of infinity."

"Got the short end of the stick, so I started beating people with it."

"That was so low on the list of things I expected to happen, it was in another state."

"BALLS TO THE WALL, BOYS!"

“You put a whole new shine on the word overkill.”

"Above my paygrade."

"I'm surrounded by assholes..."

"Besides-- in my professional opinion, the change is an improvement."

"A lifetime of preparation... and I end up a REFUGEE?"

".... are you not wearing pants right now?"

“I want a man with a tattoo on his dick! Have I got the right man?”

“I’m short for my height.”

"This isn't a joke, you shit-sucking asshole!"

"Count to... ten."

"Well that's just recockulous."

“So where the hell is the goddamn golden oldie coming from?”

"I always take my own advice under advisement-- you, on the other hand, should pay a little more goddamn attention."

"Listen, babe-- we've been attacked, chased, shot at, poisoned, and blown up! HOW could it get any WORSE?!"

“It will get colder and colder until we all have to go to hell just to warm up.”

“Broke into the wrong goddamn rec-room, didn’t you, you bastard?!”

“When you need it, and don’t have it, you sing a different tune.”

“I only speak two languages; English and Bad English!”

"[sigh]... 'Yer face' is NOT a numerical value."

“Nothing is impossible, only mathematically improbable.”

“I mean, [insert your faction of choice] offers to give you anything you want and you ask for just two cases of dynamite?”

“People keep giving me rings, but I really think a small death ray would be more practical.”

“Or, or, and this is the really important part, we might not die.”

"Tch, amateurs."

"Violence isn't the answer, it's the question-- and the answer is yes."

As always, this will be going online just as I'm crashing for the night, but the askbox is open and ready to collect requests right now! So get yours in, and I'll see ya in the morning when I start arting things up! :D

-Loor

[mad-madam-m]

So I'm just curious, how do you get yourself to write? And do you use prompts and if you do where do you get them? I meant to use NaNo to get me to write but it took 4 days into November for me to realize November started so I failed lol. I've been meaning to start this original thing and it's just not...working.

First of all, anon, you could start writing RIGHT NOW (yes, with 10 days left in the month) and you would not fail NaNo. You might not hit 50k (although I know people who have hit 50k in that amount of time, or less), but you won’t fail. NaNoWriMo isn’t about hitting 50,000 words so much as it is about putting a stake in the ground and saying, “Here. Today. I will start writing the project I’ve always wanted to.” And doing it. Doesn’t matter what that project is—original novel, short stories, fic, poetry, revising something, a series of blog posts—NaNo is about just. Fucking. Doing it. And you still have time to Do It.

To answer your questions:

Do you use prompts and if you do, where do you get them?

For original stories, particularly novels, I usually don’t. For fic, particularly short fic I’m writing for events, I do. Tumblr has a wealth of writing prompts that range from “here’s a situation” to “here’s a line of dialogue GO,” and I tend to reblog them under the tags “fic prompts” or “writing prompts.” Honestly, most of them would work for either original fic or fanfic, so if you are a writer who likes to work from prompts, go forth and enjoy!

How do you get yourself to write?

That’s kind of a big question, and uh, the answer to it got long. Very long. (I said once that if you give me half a chance, I’ll talk about writing all the live-long day, and this answer is no exception.)

Different things motivate me for different projects, and as with all writing-related advice, YMMV, but here’s a few things that really help for getting myself to write:

1) Develop your story.

The current original story I’m working on, for example, I have not really had to struggle to get myself to write at all because 1) I’m stupid excited about it and 2) I have developed the hell out of it.

I’ve talked before about outlining my stuff here, so I won’t go too much into it again; suffice it to say that I have done about the same amount of development on my current original story that I had on ADA by the time I started writing. I started around the very end of September developing my characters and spent a good chunk of October working on setting, worldbuilding, plot, and finally my notecards.

Shockingly, having some idea of what’s happening and where I’m going is making this story easier to write.

Right? Like WHO’D HAVE THOUGHT.

Because of that, I’ve been excited about writing my story, so getting myself to write on it has been (comparatively) a cakewalk.

That’s not to say any of the writing is good (oh God no) or that there aren’t parts that need fixing, or that I haven’t been stuck. But it’s been stuck like “how do I describe seeing a tree-covered mountain in the middle of fall from the POV of someone who has never seen something like this” rather than “I have no fucking clue what happens next uh…”

The stories I struggle the most with writing are the ones that I’ve worked the least on developing. The stories that have been the easiest to write have been the ones I’ve spent at least a month doing prep work on before I ever start drafting.

2) Love your story.

Being in love with a story makes it a lot easier to write, at least for me. Because here’s the thing, ideas are easy.

If you’re a creative person, you’re going to end up with a file of story ideas—maybe prompts you liked, dialogue that stuck with you, one of those “humans are space orcs” tumblr posts that’s just really clicking in your brain—that will be longer than you could conceivably write if you had a hundred lifetimes. That’s okay! That’s great. But it means a lot of them are never going to get past the idea stage.

For me, the stories that get finished—the ones that not only get started but actually make it through the first draft and then three rounds of editing and revisions—are the ideas that I’ve been percolating on for months, if not longer. They’ve been cooking in the back of my brain while I’ve been doing other things, sorting themselves out, and most importantly: they will not let me go.

Coming up with ideas is easy. Finding an idea that will last and sustain a story and my interest for at least a year, if not longer? That’s harder.

Y’all know how much I’ve been talking about Tiger & Bunny over the past year? We’re talking that level of obsession with a story that I want to write, whether it’s fic or original. Sometimes it takes months or years for all the puzzle pieces to come together. Sometimes the whole thing will congeal within a few weeks, or there will be one crucial piece of story that will just make EVERYTHING come together, I will literally shout “OH MY FUCKING GOD” and that’s it, I’m off to the races. (In this particular case, it wasn’t anything I’d done in the first two weeks of poking at steampunk-y ideas; it was the realization that I could put a circus on an airship. The whole story just went WHOOSH after that.)

BUT. But. Sometimes you don’t have that. These stories are great and I love them and they remind me why I love writing so much (and if you’re writing something that’s gonna be 90k+, like I have a tendency to do, you need to be in love with it, IMO), but sometimes you’re in situations where you just have to get it done. In those cases:

3) Resort to bribery.

I’ve been poking at the third part of Alpha & Emissary, oh, basically since I posted the second part. My problem is that my fandom focus has been, shall we say, split for the past year. *coughs delicately, shoves Tiger & Bunny fics under the bed*

But here’s the thing: I hate having a published WIP on AO3 (it’s why I don’t publish long!fics until they’re completely drafted and mostly edited). I hate—HATE—having an unfinished series on AO3.

So that’s the rub: I have an unfinished series that I want to finish because I hate that it’s not finished. I also have a new fandom that is wresting my attention and inspiration away from said series. What’s a girl to do?

A girl tells herself she can’t write any more Tiger & Bunny fic until she finishes this one WIP, that’s what she does.

And it’s motivated me to sit my ass down and work on that WIP, because goddammit, I have a “but there was only one bed” TaiBani fic that I would really like to have up by New Year’s.

Your bribery will be different. Maybe you get to watch 1 episode of your favorite show per every 1k you write, or you get to try a new knitting project when you finish this short story. Maybe you binge-watch an entire season of your favorite anime if you exceed your NaNo goal. Or you write 50 words and get a cookie. The point is, find what works for you to get it done.

4) Figure out a minimum daily goal and stick with it.

For me, this was 500 words a day. 500 words. That’s it. That’s one 30-minute word sprint for me. That’s something I can do without stressing myself out.

Because of this point and point 3, I wrote more than 7000 words on a story I’d been stuck on for the better part of a year before I had to stop to work on NaNo stuff. Another 7k, and I’ll probably have it finished.

Your minimum word count will almost certainly be different. Maybe it’s 300 words a day, maybe it’s 1000. Hell, maybe it’s 100 words. Again, find what works for you, what you can write regularly without stressing yourself out.

Another important thing: If I didn’t hit 500 words, I didn’t beat myself up about it. Maybe I wrote 350. Or 220. Or just 93. The point is, did I write? Yes? Then I did good. I got myself a sentence or a paragraph closer to finishing. And it all adds up.

(And hey, you don’t have to write every day. I do, or I try to, because that’s what works for me. If it stresses you out to do so, then find another way to make it work.)

5) Deadlines, deadlines, deadlines.

This one’s hard because I can rarely keep a deadline that’s not set by an external source. If you tell me on December 20 that you need a story by December 22? Then on December 22, you’ll have a story, edited and ready to post. But when it comes to something I set for myself, the chances of a deadline working are 50/50.

That being said, it is something that helps me keep on track and even if I don’t finish something by a self-imposed deadline, it does get me writing.

6) Sprint with friends!

NaNo is really great for this because all your writer friends are coming out of the woodwork going I need to hit 5k by the end of today, will you sprint with me? Sometimes it just helps to have that kind of accountability. You all get together (I’ve used Discord, Google Hangouts, IRC, and Twitter DMs for this), set a timer, and write for 15 minutes or 20 minutes or 30 minutes. Then, when the time’s up, you post your word count, everybody congratulates everybody else, and then you take a break before doing the next one.

Sprints are the reason I’ve been able to make some pretty significant headway on my word counts, and few things get me writing like knowing I’m going to have to tell everybody in my group what my word count is in 30 minutes or less. >.>

Like I said earlier, YMMV on all of these. What works for me may work for you, or it might not. But if you aren’t sure, it’s worth giving it a shot.

Happy writing!

[rakuraiwielder]

I'm working on your ask, but here's some for you: I, A, M, S, P, O, T

Ask prompt here: x

thanks puffin!! this is gonna be long and nostalgic eyy

I - HasTumblr caused you to stop liking any fandoms, if so, which and why? 

I wouldn’t say “actively dislike” butthe toxicity of fandom on this website has sucked away most of my passion for Voltron lol. I used to really dig itthe first month or so after getting really into it when S2 aired. I still havean unfinished draft for a 7-parter rarepair fic //ey guess my fav duo ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)// sitting in my folders. don’t think I’llbe touching it any time soon though. im rather burnt out from this fandom, evenif I do still enjoy watching all the new seasons thereafter.

another is StevenUniverse ah a. (but in its and my defence, I wasn’t really into it anywaysas compared to other fandoms. the songs are still good, but I haven’t beenkeeping up with the newer Steven bombs, one part because of motivation, andanother because the thought of going into the tags to reblog contentintimidates the heck out of me pffft)

A - Ships that youcurrently like a lot. (They don’t have to be OTPs because not everyone hasOTPs.) Friendships, pairings, threesomes, etc. are allowed.

(puffin this question is gonnatake up half the ask oh god)oh bOY where do I start hahahaha. there’s so many aph and fe callbacks hahaha few otps aside I really have too manycrackpairs and platonic friendship ride-or-die squads I would die for. theseare only a few really relevant ones from the top of my head-

OTPS:

Norway/Vietnam (Hetalia) – alWAYS. i dont talk about and reblog much aph anymore but i still think about these two frequently. they were my first and closestthing ever to an actual otp in all my years of knowing what an otp was gosh Ihope to write about them again soon. their dynamics are the peak of mypreferences.

MU(avatar unit)/Silas (FE Fates) – thechildhood friends + loyal knight and liege trope + a pinch of memory loss wasnever really my thing, but guess there’s a first for everything ha h a ah a….silas is too pure for the angst I put him through im so sorry ಸ ل͜ ಸ

Berkut/Rinea (FE: SOV) – the second that one cutscene of these two played I got1000% more invested in the story pffft. anyways rinea may be top tier fav andberkut shit tier fav, and their story tragic as heck (and I would also arguethat he doesn’t deserve her), but their genuine and honest love for each otheramidst the incoming death flags gets me every time

707/MC (Mystic messenger) – honestly they can either be a really good platonicdynamic duo or a solid otp. purely from the perspective of my own MC, theycomplement each other well; perfect balance of light-hearted teasing and asolid wall of comfort for each other.

Ray-Saeran/MC (Mystic messenger) – ヽ༼ຈل͜ຈ༽ﾉ

(Other) Ships:

Seychelles/Iceland/HK (Hetalia) – they are good togetherromantically or platonically hahahaha. a good golden trio of kids

Russia/Vietnam (Hetalia) – their potential relationship and clashof character due to conflicting personalities fascinate me. a totally differentnoir vibe from norviet and one I hope to explore if I ever come back to aph

Nyx/Leo (FE Fates) – nyx ships are reallyrare but half of them are surprisingly sweet and poignant. Odin and Laslow tooare really sweet candidates to woo this jaded grandma’s heart.

MU/Laslow (FE Fates) – got to thank a wacky7-11 employee au dream I had for this one. but in the games their supportconversations are surprisingly thoughtful and low-key flirting which was notwhat I expected at all. wholesome.

Ham/Kai (MUxMU, FE) – remember when I said protag/protagships are the good stuff? yea h thatprincess tutu au is coming along swell

Alm/Celica (FE: SOV) – the rare main canon couple I love whodon’t die and get their happy ending (LOL this sounds really pathetic now thatI’ve said it)

Leon/Valbar (FE: SOV) – no one is surprised LOL. romantic orno, as long as leon is happy with where he stands with valbar and valbar ishappy with where he is im happy for them both

Conrad/Rinea (FE: SOV) – I know there are a couple of youreading this whos gonna give me that look but liste n; they could have met, and there is potential for them.(honestly this is just like another norviet situation where I put my 2 topfaves together for crackpair experimentation bUT IT WORKS I ASSURE YOU)

Zen/MC (Mystic messenger) – zen is so earnest that I can’t refute himhahaha. he also has a special seat in my mysme heart, since he was the firstroute I played and made me create content for the fandom proper

707/Jaehee (Mystic messenger) – they are rapidly gaining OTP status ꉂ (´∀｀)ʱªʱªʱª aaaa nightmare flashbacks because justlike norviet they really are the rarest of crackpairs and have almost to no content(gonna get down to business and churn fic out one day). these two are moresimilar than they’d think too.

Cecil/Haruka (Utapri) – ahahaha a good ship from a guiltypleasure fandom

(Purely) Platonic:

Izuku/Iida/Ochako (BNHA) – the first golden trio of thisseries. I love them so much.

Vanderwood/MC (Mystic messenger) – they parallel each other. truly thebiggest ride-or-die duo I will support to the end of time

Zen/Yoosung (Mystic messenger) – zen is such a mother hen to yoosungwwwww truly wholesome

Chise/Ruth (Ancient Magus Bride) – platonic master/familiar-partner relationships where both of them care for each other so much to the point where they would die for the other are my one weakness. its the reason i love writing more fleshed-out pokemon aus and loyal dogs/animals in longer fics. anyways these two are good

M - Name acharacter that you’d like to have for a friend.

707. It would be a trip justknowing him. (apart from the memes. but my life is already 80% meme, honestlywhats the difference ahahaha aaa-) Just, I feel like it would be really fun tohang out with him and revel in his wackiness (even if that personality is afront, maybe one day when i finally get into his inner-circle of friends, I hopeto be privy and be a good listening ear to his truer, more sombre personality.)

On the other hand, myself-confidence and 2nd hand embarrassment will be directlyproportional to each other (And im 100% sure Seven is the kind of person whowill exploit that hAH)

S - Show us anexample of your personal headcanon (prompts optional but encouraged)

Every relevant character inMysmes is either a type of asexual (greysexual etc.), or on various points ofthe bi-spectrum. Yeah; even self-proclaimed, “straight-laced” Zen lol.

P - Invent a random AU for any fandom (wealways need more ideas)

Vampire/Selkie AU ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

a selkie whose skin gets stolen and hidden from a human man is forced to become his bride and taken back to his village. there, to escape the stares of bigoted villagers and the clutches of her overbearing and possessive husband, she takes refuge in the only place he would not go; the old holy church.

only, she finds she isn’t the first to occupy this place of solitude. the master of the church notices her soon enough, and when vampire recognises the ancient weave of magic that flows within her, he appears; intrigued for something other than a fresh meal.

(basically a deviation from the standard vampire (romance-ish) novels lolol plot bunny hit me pre-Christmas eve dinner/yesterday and sofar im digging it. still planning the ship and fandom though; it might very easily be OC-based)

O - Choose a songat random. Which ship or character does it remind you of?

since 1 is never enough, hereare 4 songs I was listening to recently:

Little Knights, Nem feat.Noire : Zen/MC(a zen-ish song through and through)

over and over, Yanagi Nagi : Saeran Choi + 707&MC(more saeran-centric with interpretative lyrics and referencing to both ray andunknown personas)

Finding something to do, HelloGoodbye : 707/Jaehee(fits their “don’t go where I can’t follow” dynamic haha ow.)

Life will Change, Shoji Meguro + Benjamin Franklin feat. Lyn Inaizumi : Kai(mui) or Ham(let)(honestly the entire persona 5 ost is massive fe fates protag feels)

T - Do you have any hard and fast headcanons thatyou will die defending?

Not really. I’m a very flexible person when it comes tointerpretable lore and content, especially if it’s the type of HCs that thefandom collectively comes up with. Unless it’s a canon fact, I like to dabble orjust stay away from HCs in general. If I have to come up with some in my fics,then so be it. But most of the time these HCs are either super vague or onlyapply to the context in this particular piece or series of writing. Basically Idon’t mind switching HCs for charas frequently as long as it does notfundamentally change their own character. (HCs for hobbies and loves and habitsand relationships apart from their inner circle, etc. are all fine)

Honestly it just boils down to expectations lol I know myown limits, and I know not to be disappointed when canon updates end updebunking (popular) fandom HCs or my own.

[mlmxreader]

On A Break

okay, so, it's been a few days since I've been away, and I'm gonna explain as best as I can whilst also trying to prevent certain types from jumping down my fucking throat over it. I've tried breaking it up as much as I can for the sake of accessibility, but if it isn't perfect, then I do apologise and will fix any issues.

First

Disheartened & Unsure

So, like, part of the reason why I'm taking a break at the moment is because, quite honestly, I'm disheartened. Every time I log onto this app and I check my inbox, it's the same old story: a few requests and maybe, like, one decent person who's actually given me any interaction on my fics. (and that's if I'm lucky!) It's starting to feel like a massive waste of time, if I'm honest.

I hate coming on here and immediately thinking "well, that's shit" and then feeling like shit myself. I hate looking at my fics & my prompt lists (all stuff I do NOT get paid to post, btw! I do it in my own free time!) and then feeling like they're not good enough, which means I'm not good enough.

I mean, for fuck's sake, I set up a poll to ask my readers if they wanted to have a day where nothing but smut was posted - they said yes, and I was SO EXCITED. Until two weeks later, when the novelty wore off and no one had requested anything since the first time.

I make prompt lists so that people don't HAVE to think out fully detailed fics to request, I make them long and with different types of prompts so that people can pick and choose, mix and match - people stopped requesting by August, even when I made a new one and reblogged it as much as possible so that those with timezone differences can have a chance.

It's disheartening.

As it stands, I'm still very disheartened. Like, incredibly so, and I don't really wanna come back except to bang out the six (6) requests I have in my inbox atm. And that'll, at max, take me a day or two to get thru and finish off - so, then what?

I mean, the only reason I have this blog is to take & posts requests and to, yknow, actually interact w people who enjoy them - if I'm not getting that, why should I stick around? What is my purpose for being here and for logging on?

Second

"Write For Yourself" Discourse

It's bullshit. I'm sick of hearing it time and time again when I explain that, actually, I already DO! I've written just as many fics for myself as what I post on here - I just don't SHARE many of them. So, if I WANTED to, I could easily keep everything to & for my eyes and maybe the eyes of a few trusted friends.

Which would then mean that this blog becomes, frankly, redundant. I'm tired and sick of the discourse whenever I fucking say this. I'm not explaining it any more - if people don't request & don't interact, then my blog will not exist. It's that simple.

Call me ungrateful, call me a bastard, I don't care. Those are my reasons, and I reserve the right to not say anything further about the topic. Bring this discourse into my inbox, and I'm pressing the block button.

Third

Undetermined Time for a Break

I'll be honest: I'm not sure how long I'll be on a break for. I'll post writing if it gets requested, but I'm not promising anything & I'm not remaking a new prompt list.

I just don't have it in me anymore, and frankly, I'm tired of feeling like shit whenever I log on & look at how things are going.

I'm tired. I'm so fucking tired. So I'm taking a step back - ofc I'll check in occasionally (like I did today), see what's happening. But my presence is going to be heavily minimalised until the time comes when I feel like I'm, basically, appreciated and WANTED enough to make a full come back.

[mlmxreader]

Eastern Front Chills | Alfie Solomons x gn!reader

anonymous asked: Lastly, thank you so so much for writing My Lieutenant! I love them so much. I'm not sure if you're open to it but would you be at all willing to write a precursor to that part using the prompts "Wait for me on the other side" + "Don't try to stop me"? Maybe from when they were fighting in the war together. No pressure though and again, thank you!

🐍anon

summary: the Eastern Front is far from an ideal place to be, and although Alfie is doing his best, he's not sure that he or his Lieutenant are going to make it through.

tws: swearing, violence, war, infection/disease, depictions of war, mentions of death

(sort of) prequel to My Lieutenant

support your fanfic writers by reblogging what you read & enjoy

The Eastern Front was not a happy place to be. Snow was so thick and fell so heavily that it froze over the puddles in the trenches, making them slick and causing soldiers to injure themselves when they slipped onto their backs, knocking their heads against pieces of wood and other men's rifles.

Disease was rife.

Without any ability to wash, soldiers were more susceptible to infection, and gangrene was ravaging the flesh of the wounded. Those who weren't sick or infected could only watch in horror; trench foot spread quickly, and more men died from disease and infection than they did from guns.

You looked to your left at Alfie, the dried blood still stuck to his skin from where he had shoved a nail into some Italian's face; originally, the Italian had been on the allied side.

But he made a fatal mistake when he tried to doubt the competency of Alfie's Lieutenant. He made a fatal mistake when he had questioned your authority after you had ordered a truce on the twenty-fifth of December.

Alfie never allowed things like that to slide, and although infighting was nothing new in the slightest when it came to either side, Alfie never allowed anyone to disrespect you.

Constantly at each other's side, everyone knew that if they wanted a word with you, Alfie would be there as well; a few of the boys, nice guys from Camden where you and Alfie had grown up together, often tried to steal from nearby farms for something other than fried lice, stale bread, and mouldy biscuits to eat.

They usually asked for your help, and although he didn't like the thought of stealing, Alfie always allowed it; war fucked everyone up, stealing to survive was far different from stealing for profit. They were good boys, though.

They always wrote to their families, always tried to do the right thing. But war fucked everyone up.

One was taken by gangrene.

Another died during a gas attack.

Two were picked off by machine guns.

The only one who survived had to be sent back home, shellshock had gotten to him too much to keep him on the front lines anymore.

War was not a space for boys. It was not a place for anyone to be, and with the Eastern Front being so cold, it was no surprise that you and Alfie tried to set fire to the clothes of dead men just to keep yourselves a little bit warmer.

You cuddled up to him, pulling on the lapels of the torn and damp coat that you had stolen from a dead man, swallowing thickly as your heart hammered in your chest; counting down the seconds until the next mortar hit.

Until the next shell was dropped.

You could see the damp and the snow starting to gnaw away at the wooden pillars of the trenches, knowing that they would eventually break and crumble with the pressure of those gnashing teeth; Alfie put his arm around you, clenching his jaw as his cap covered his eyes. He dropped his head slightly, snow falling from the brim as he sighed heavily.

"Gonna get colder, innit?" He huffed.

You nodded slowly, teeth chattering as you felt your skin bristle, the cold seeping in further. "Seems like it… Alf?"

"Yeah, mate?"

"If we're gonna… end up like that lot out there," you started slowly, quietly, "promise me something?"

"Anythin'."

"Wait for me on the other side," you told him. "Just… give me time to catch up to you, yeah?"

Alfie grumbled as he swallowed thickly, knowing exactly what such a thing meant. "Always, sunshine. I ain't goin' fuckin' anywhere without you - you're my Lieutenant, and me spouse."

"Your spouse?"

"Yeah," he shrugged. "I know I ain't never fuckin' asked, but we're at war, ain't we?"

"Well, yeah."

"Right," Alfie hummed. "So, might as well make you me spouse before we die, ain't I? I mean, c'mon, you really think we're gonna make it out? When them Jerries are well fuckin' keen on puttin us down?"

You frowned, knowing that he was right. Bile in your chest as you sighed heavily and shook your head. "Alf…"

"Yeah?"

"I love you," you whispered. "Y'know that, don't you?"

"I'd be thick as shit if I didn't… so, do I take that as an agreement? You'll be Lieutenant Solomons - has a fuckin' nice ring to it, dunnit?"

You laughed softly as you nodded. "I can't say you're wrong. Far from it… but yeah, it's an agreement."

"I'll write to me Mum if we survive the night," he said softly. "Y'know she loves you, in all, she'll be over the fuckin' moon about it."

You scoffed as you raised your brows slightly. "Your mum loves everyone who compliments her cooking."

"Me mum loves who makes me happy, in all," he pointed out. "I'll write to her. I don't wanna die as your husband without her knowin', so don't try to stop me - I'm writin' to her and tellin' her, and that's that."

"But what about the ceremony?"

"If we survive," Alfie started, "and we get to go home, I will sort it… we just gotta survive."

"Alf… I really do love you," you admitted. "But it's so fucking cold… it's so fucking cold."

"I know, sunshine," he growled softly, hugging you tighter. "I know it's fuckin' cold, I know… chin up, c'mon, we'll make it through the night."

"I'm cold all over," you breathed out. "I can't move."

"I got you," Alfie grumbled. "I fuckin' well have you, and you ain't goin' fuckin' nowhere without me."

But he knew what such a chill meant. He was all too aware that the cold and the chill could only mean one thing. He clenched his jaw, hoping that he was wrong, but common sense told him otherwise; he knew what it meant.

More than anything, Alfie just wanted to get you home, out of the trenches and away from the cold; if he could do that, he would never let you go cold again, he would never allow it.

He couldn't. His fingertips caught the edge of your neck, and he fought back a growl as he sighed heavily; you were far too cold.

Alfie closed his eyes, hoping that somehow he could get you back to Camden, back in the warmth.