#If you disagree with my thoughts feel free to talk about them

[nostalgiabug]

Snorting Kemono Jihen like the crack it is

This is gonna be broken up into segments about the characters. I am currently reading through the manga but I don't give a crap about spoilers. I'm not gonna talk about the plot, it's largely whatever in my books. Check the tags first.

Kusaka (You cannot kill him in any way that matters) Kabane:

He is an adorable little demon child. As the protagonist the story quite honestly lives or dies on enjoyment of Kabane as a character. And I find it rather impossible to hate this unbothered short king. I like how despite his lack of emoting you can usually tell what's going on with him. It's common in cases like Kabane to make the character a nothing burger and not doing that is surprising for something that got it's start in 2016. Especially in stories like this one that end up having some rather dark moments. Kemono Jihen manages to avoid this by still somehow managing to maintain an uplifting tone.

Kabane is very emotionally stunted and that works for him, if he works is way out of it. The story itself tells you that his lack of emotion is tied directly to his abuse, infact Kabane already has the perfect avenue to explore his lack of emotion aside from extreme outbursts, his kemono half (So this actually happens but my point still stands). Put him more at odds with the part of him that is at it's core predatory, Hell Kabane working through his emotional blindness works as a marker of his progress. Honestly I think he just needs an internal monologue like Loid Forger from Spy X Family or like how Nico Robin has these moments where she pictures the most random thing.

As I see it Kabane is a very strong character that has room to improve. But he doesn't really have to, as it stands he works very well as the character arc bat he is. Now I have this image in my head of Kabane sneaking up on someone with a bat that has the words "Character Arc" on it. (He's gonna beat you to death with it and you will thank him)

Nowaki (Nobimaru should have been like Zuko) Hormramaru:

I like Nobimaru, he's just bastard enough to be enjoyable, like Anya Forger. I swear the Spy X Family references stop here. I will say, I don't like the fact that he's secretly 19. If he was a 13-year old pretending to be an adult, his dynamic the the other characters would become infinitely more interesting. Children tend to see adults as bastions of freedom, which makes the whole pretending to be an adult thing understandable. I imagine Nobimaru being was more childish and silly around Kabane and the kids but presenting his canon personality and age around Inari and the other Kitsune. I would honestly prefer the moments that dynamic would bring about. I can see Kabane just telling Nobimaru that he prefers him the way he is. Not as who he pretends to be. It'd be cute. But at that point Kon becomes entirely pointless and that's fine, I don't really like Kon all that much.

Of course if you are smart you have realized that this would lead to a Zuko Alone arc followed by Nobimaru betraying his mom. Hey if it ain't broke but criminally misunderstood, make it more obvious. Nobimaru is a abuse victim, his mother Inari is abusive as hell. The more I think about this idea, the more interesting it becomes; Kon is Nobimaru, because he hates that he looks like his mother. It adds a very interesting avenue to explore self loathing born of parental abuse, sorta like Nagisa from Assassination Classroom but better. With one simple change he goes from just hating Inari to clearly wanting her to love him, knowing full well she never will. I have more but that may end up being a separate post of unstructured rambling. Or a fic I end up writing it, who knows. (Likely a fic)

Akira (Fuck those are long ass full names that I'm not writing) and Yui:

I don't have any right to speak on sexual assault especially to a child, my abuse was only ever physical and emotional.You have every right to skip Yui's segment if it makes you uncomfortable.I have no intention to judge for not wanting to think about something.

I am not a person who has experienced SA, I have however experienced long term abuse and will be speaking from that perspective. I am not caught up with the manga so feel free correct me if this is wrong. In canon he just sorta gets over it, something that he survived through for most of his life. This was something that made him react with viceral rage at the mere idea of his own brother "helping". And there is no emotional fallout, even just an aversion to physical contact from anyone who isn't Akira would be enough, this pisses me off. I'm gonna be angry for a bit to prove a point; This is a fifteen year old boy who would be a father if not for going fucking psycho after years of abuse. THERE IS NO "JUST GETTING OVER THAT". And then he is written out of the story. I don't like this, it's bad. I would have at the very least put Yui more at odds with the other kids. Yui's aggressively protective of Akira and this plus his trauma would likely make him less trusting.

Akira's delightful, I wish he wasn't a cardboard cutout of what stupid people think boys or, people in general, express gender nonconformity are like. But the author seems to have moved beyond that, from what I can tell. I love how much Akira loves his brother, reminds me of Kari and Tai from the original digimon. I like siblings being comfy. It's nice, it makes me happy to see. I can see Akira as some flavor of trans, it would make a interesting conflict with is brother. But it's not something I would not recommend approaching lightly, given the possibility of making Yui unlikable. I would just make Akira really worried about coming out as trans, only for Yui to just say he didn't want to assume. Or that nothing could change how much Yui loves Akira, that would be adorable.

Inari (All Cops Are Bastards) Yoko:

She's a bitch, she's the villain. She's delightful and I hate her (affectionate). The gold standard really. She's one familiar egomaniac and watching her fail is cathartic as hell, no notes. She is a perfectly shit woman and rather intimidating to boot. I think it's interesting how Nobimaru sometimes emulates her worst aspects, honestly that's something that's worth exploring. She and Inugami are different sides of the same coin, Inugami wants coexistence while she seeks only absolute control. She doesn't care what happens to those she uses but he does. It really speaks to her end goal of becoming the unchallenged empress of japan. (I am convinced that the only reason she even had Nobimaru was just so she could be called a MILF)

Inugami (Serial adopter, seriously he has four kids) Kohachi:

This man is a father of four and the delightfully barbie bitch vampire that he keeps in the closet. I love how scrungally he is. If Inugami was real and I had slightly lower standards, I'd hit on him. There isn't really a lot to him. He's basically got the same thing going on as Kuro from Servamp. That's not a bad thing, it's just I've seen it before. Aside from that, the genuine concern expresses for his kids wasn't something I was expecting. He's manipulative, but in a way that shows his desire to keep people safe. That's a trait worth putting more emphasis on if you intend to write him.

Tademaru (So I'm a Spider Boy, So What?) Shiki

I don't have anything to say about Shiki. He's Bakugo written correctly and I will die on that correct opinion. I think that Aya's canon design should be nuked from orbit, just trust me on this. T-shirt and jeans with front facing pockets, Ta-fucking-da; tomboy without being fucking disgusting. Aya being trans that would have been fun, but just as more of a neutral aside. I think it would be fun if Shiki expressed an interest in being a clothing designer. Aside from that I don't really have anything more to say. OH, I think it would be interesting if Shiki's eyes looked like Kumoku from So, I'm a Spider.

I think it would be fun if he and his sister, as half-Arachne had eyes like these. Look I don't hate how his eyes are normally, but I don't think it's interesting either. Take off his jacket and nothing about Shiki really screams spider person. Also because the name Arachne is greek in origin it would be cool if they had more olive toned skin.

[smile-files]

this might be a hot take... but if you care about disavowing media made by bad people out of fear of looking like a bad person yourself more than you care about actually doing good things... you might have your priorities (and your morals) screwed up a bit :/

(see my tags for more of my thoughts on this topic! please try to avoid making make bad-faith assumptions about what i mean!)

[melminli]

Dirty Cash (Money Talks)

summary - you had nothing against your colleague, but you weren't stupid enough to be fooled by his innocent smile and appearance since you knew exactly what kind of corrupt person was hiding behind that costume. after all, you were wearing the same one.

pairing: (gong yoo/ji-cheol) the salesman x fem. recruiter reader

word count: 1.4k

contains: talk about gambling + death and murder, sexual tension?, crack and just evil morals tbh

a/n: i watched maybe the first fifteen minutes or so of bullet train, but i thought of the two funny dudes from it while writing this bcuz their dynamic was funny af. also, i will use the actor's name in this fic since the character itself doesn't really have an official one that was mentioned in the series!

You straightened your tie with your free hand while watching your train approach from the side. The station was always pretty empty at this hour, which saved you the jostling and squeezing as you entered. After that, you sat down comfortably with a light sigh - next to the free seat beside your devilishly handsome colleague. “Are you alright? Don't tell me that you had a exhausting day?” he asked you worriedly with his typical innocent smile on his face but you've known the guy for a while now and you knew exactly how dishonest he sounded right now.

You returned his gaze for a second, uninterested, before turning it back in front of you to observe your surroundings from the window. “Exhausting day? Don't make fun of me or I'll punch you in the face,” you replied monotone and Gong Yoo didn't doubt your statement for a second - or Ji-cheol as you preferred to call him since you weren't a big fan of nicknames. “I had a great time punching those bastards in the face one by one. It feels kinda therapeutic, so I'm actually feeling pretty good right now,” you told him, talking about the subject as if you were talking about the weather.

Your colleague grunted with delight at your good news. “And I would never disagree with you on that.” he said and then just watched your figure silently for a while before speaking up again. “Since you're in such a good mood, would you be willing to play a more private game between the two of us?” he suggested, making you look at him in utter disbelief.

“A private game? With you?” you repeated, amused and laughed in his face. “Hell, no. But don't worry, I'll let you know next time I want to get totally screwed by a freaky pervert,” you added, your voice dripping with sarcasm. Which will be, never.

“Come on, don't be like that,” he asked you sweetly. As sweet as the wolf who pretended to be the mother of the seven little goats before he ate them all one by one. “It's just a tiny, harmless game. It's been so long since we've played anything together.” he complained to you earnestly as if you actually cared, and you didn't.

Yeah, you remembered the last time very clearly, even if you would much rather prefer that you didn't. You hummed. “Is that so? Huh. I mean, it could be because you almost killed me in a fucking game of tic-tac-toe the last time, but that's just a theory.” You said with a shrug, clearly still resenting him for that. However, he just rolled his eyes unaffected by your grudge. “But you didn't, right? It was the other guy who got the bullet in his head.” He replied, not even remembering his name. Not that he had to.

You just glared at him while you rubbed your forehead. “Yeah, maybe. But I'm tired of risking my life just because it makes you horny and you can jerk off to it.” You made your feelings on the matter clear. “You know that the whole living on the edge of death thing isn't really my cup of tea. At least try to understand me a bit here, too.”

I suppose she's not entirely wrong, I could give it a try. I never thought about it like that before, did I? He thought to himself in his head as he ran his tongue over the back of his teeth while he pondered. How selfish of me. “So what exactly do I have to do, to convince you?” He asked you while he already had a few ideas in mind.

You grinned. “You know that very well, don't play dumb.” You demanded as you leaned closer to him so that he could hear what you were singing softly. “Money talks, money talks - dirty cash, I want you, and dirty cash, I need you, oh ~”

He raised an eyebrow, not particularly surprised. “So you want to play for money?” He repeated it, not outright rejecting your request. “Don't you have enough of that already? You're really insatiable when it comes to cash and now you want mine, too?” he joked just to get you worked up.

Though, you didn't get the slightest bit offended by what he said. “Can you ever have enough money? Besides, I'm not forcing you to give it to me, am I?” you said with a smile, already knowing that he would agree to your terms. “But if you want me to play with you, I want eight million won for every round I win.”

She's so greedy for someone who is already more than wealthy. “Aren't you exaggerating a bit? Most people don't earn that much in a month,” he continued his act of - whatever this was - because he just loved arguing with you.

“So? We both have the same salary, I know you can afford it,” you said, holding a hand in the air as soon as you felt that he wanted to stretch this unnecessary conversation even more. “You have to decide now what you want to do or I withdraw my proposal again.”

Gong Yoo closed his mouth and started grinning even wider. “You don't even want to know what kind of game I want to play?” he asked curiously, nodding and accepting whatever you wanted as soon as he saw that you actually weren't interested. You couldn't even imagine how gladly he gave in to you at this moment. “All right, I agree with your request.”

You stood up with your briefcase in hand after your station was announced. “Good. Text me when you have something in mind, I'll be there as long as it fits timewise.”

Your colleague continued to watch you with a look on his face that used to make you more than just uncomfortable back in the day - though, it didn't even bother you in the slightest now. “You don't want to accompany me to the...office?”

You smiled while the train started to slow down. “Au revoir, Ji-cheol.” you just said your goodbye to him and stepped out of the doors. You didn't even spare the poor guy a second glance when he waved his hand at you from the window. She can be so heartless sometimes, he thought to himself, even if you were like this pretty much all the time. I'll have to think of something good to ask for in return should I win. I'm definitely not going to hold back when there's this much money at stake.

You didn't give a second thought to anything as you made your way home after a day's work like any normal citizen would do. However, your steps slowed considerably when you noticed a beggar in your field of vision and even though the rest of the crowd ignored the man and his entire existence, you couldn't help but focus your full attention on him. You looked at your watch, I've been off work for a while now. But even then, you couldn't help but notice that he was one of the people on your list to recruit for the game. He'll still be here tomorrow, but I don't mind another round of Ddakji. I love money more than anything - but I'm not doing this job for only that.

“Excuse me,” you spoke to the man with a polite smile on your face, and he only submissively avoided your gaze as he listened to you. After all, one rarely approached people like him and why would they? He held his cup of loose change out in front of him, probably expecting you to give him a small donation, but you wanted to give him so much more than that. Even if the guy didn't know it right now - you wanted to give him another chance in life, so that he wouldn't continue to be just a miserable failure.

You ignored his donation cup. “I was wondering if you might have a moment because I'd like to make you an offer,” you continued politely and the man met your gaze at that. Yeah, you were really looking forward to what was about to happen - after all, you were known for letting your opponent only win if you allowed them to.

[thebibliosphere]

Whenever I talk about the medical neglect and ableism I've encountered as a victim of the healthcare system, there's always some cockwaffle who feels entitled to come into my inbox and make the argument of "not all doctors" while talking about how "people like them" (because it's always someone in a field of medicine who does this) are doing their best and it's really hard because so many people fake being ill to get on welfare (Yikes), but like, yeah, obviously #not all doctors, because if all doctors were negligent, bullying scum bags, I'd be dead.

But here's the thing: while I truly believe that the majority of doctors are doing their best in a system stacked against them and their patients, their presence does not negate the mass harm caused by the bad ones. And there are far more bad ones than you realize.

Fuck, John Oliver literally did a segment on this last week:

Yes, the truly bad, malicious doctors are in the minority. Most are just horrifically burned out and fighting a losing battle against a system, killing both them and their patients through a lack of funding and resources and profound overwork.

But the malicious ones do exist, and they will go out of their way to harm patients who don't kowtow to them.

I almost lost my life because when I was in my early twenties, I told a doctor I didn't think she was listening to me, and I disagreed with her assessment of my mental health (she was not a mental health doctor, and I was there for heart palpitations and chronic pain). She retaliated by putting "non-compliant" in my file.

There was also a fun little "doesn't show respect" note too that lives rent-free in my head because I know I wasn't rude. I was polite. I just didn't agree with her, and my refusal to accept her off-handed comment that "you probably have bipolar or BPD" (again, I was there for heart palpitations and chronic pain) meant I was "refusing care."

I wasn't. I just refused to be slapped with a mood/personality disorder when I was there because I kept fucking fainting when I stood up.

(Spoiler alert: it was dysautonomia)

That "non-compliant" marker followed me around for years. It followed me across an ocean and effectively ensured that any doctor I saw was going to treat me like absolute dogshit because no one wants to help Difficult Patients. It wasn't until I was so undeniably ill, literally on the brink of death, that anyone helped me.

I'm alive because of a good doctor. And all the good ones that came after him because of him.

So, I know they exist. You don't have to tell me that.

But I really fucking need you to acknowledge the bad ones and that you're part of a system with a long, long history of abusing minorities and vulnerable people. I need you to acknowledge that because it's the only way we're going to survive this godforsaken nightmare and make things better.

So yeah, #notalldoctors, but if you feel the need to say that because someone talking about being literally left to die by the medical system hurts your feelings, I'm going to have to ask you to take a step back and ask yourself if you're going into medicine for the right reasons.

Namely: do you want to help people, even the "difficult" ones?

Even the ones who might disagree with you?

Even if they're on welfare?

Even if they'll never get "better" in a way that means "cured"?

Just a thought. But hey, what do I know. I'm just someone who experienced hemolytic anemia because doctors kept telling me I was anxious and needed to exercise more 🤷‍♀️.

[fishnapple]

What can bring true satisfaction to your heart?

Let's end this year by hearing what your heart yearns for. And also trying out my new AAB (Animal Advisory Board) set for divination ✨️

This is a general reading meant for multiple people. Take only what resonates and leave out the rest.

Your feedback is much appreciated. If you find the reading resonated with you, leave a comment, I’d love to know 🎐

About me | Masterpost Book a reading with me - KO-FI (→ personal reading)

ORANGE

On the surface level, what feels like satisfaction for you is recognition for your hard work. You feel a sense of lack when it comes to your material possessions, that that sense of lack can affect your sense of self greatly. You could feel that the more you have, the more confident and safe you are, you find safety in a familiar physical world. Working, earning money, and then being recognised for your effort can elevate your "worth" in this world, or so you believe. And being worthy is the solid proof of existence and meaning. But you will soon find that in chasing success and recognition, you risk burning out and losing your vitality, your jest for life. Being too focused on a goal, a task can narrow your perspective and make you feel like life is just a race, a competition. You want to show your best, to be known as the most hard working person, the one who contributes the most, the one who can take on any tasks without fear, the one who shines the brightest. Life seems like a stage where you have to perform constantly, even when you're alone, your actions are being observed by an invisible audience.

But your inner self disagrees with that approach, and it will demand a change from you. You can't keep running in "the race" forever because there's simply no race for you to run, just a life for you to be in and to live. A part of you is sleeping, latent inspirations are trapped inside without the means to be expressed. It's quite contradictory, on the outside, you look so busy and active, always doing something, but on the inside, the energy is stagnant and inactive. This feeling will continue to pile up until you can't take it anymore and want to burst out, to take off. The feeling of true freedom, of flying for the first time will open up a floodgate inside you, you will begin to nurture a different perspective, you will want to slow down your run and look around, suddenly you will find so many interesting things around you that you haven't noticed before.

By being free, you will also have a different view on relationships. Your heart yearns for freedom, freedom to be yourself, and freedom to love. You will want to bond deeply with people, to seek comfort in the emotional sense, not in the physical sense anymore. You seek true understanding, of yourself, of the other person and the world you live in. Deep connections can bring the most satisfaction, something that you might have been oblivious to up until now. You won't seek recognition from the general crowd anymore, you will seek the transparency of being seen completely by a loved one.

WHITE

For this group, I see a lot of images about predators attacking prey. This can mean that you are having contradictory thoughts and feelings inside yourself, like an inner critic, always watching and judging your every wish and action. This creates lots of unnecessary fears in you, you're held prisoner by your own mind. You desire many different things, or said in a different way, many different things can bring you satisfaction, but they can be at odds with each other. The solution for you is to go ahead and do them anyway, no matter how much your mind protest or try to "talk" you out of it, which sometimes can be in a really aggressive way. Your mind can create visions of people ridicule or criticise you for your decisions. What you need to do is triumph over those visions, shoo them away, and just do what you instinctively feel drawn to do and then see for yourself, with you own eyes, the actual outcome, only then will you have solid "proof" to chase away those intrusive thoughts in your mind. For you, getting over your myriad fears will be your biggest achievement and satisfaction. For every victory over your fear, no matter how small, you deserve to get a pat on your back. Be gentle with yourself, but firm enough to give yourself a chance to grow.

About your many desires, one is about receiving and giving love. You might just focus on romance and dating right now, without much serious thought about a long-term commitment and building a family with someone. But in the future, when you allow yourself to grow more and gain new perspectives, the thought of commitment will naturally arise in you. You won't just desire love and affection alone, you also desire a place to call home, a place where someone will be there to welcome you. You will want to nurture someone, and be nurtured back, work for the connection, and see your effort grow into a deep bond. You're working hard right now, but mostly to build your own foundation, later in life, you will want to work hard to build that foundation with another person. Your heart will flourish in the nurturing environment of a steady relationship.

For now, just focus your energy on getting to know yourself, every nook and cranny. Come to your rescue when your mind begins to nag, especially when you want to rest and contemplate hidden things behind the veil of mundane life. Use your resting time to let your mind explore foreign subjects, coax it gently when it tries to resist learning new things. The more you explore, the more your mind will soar, the more your heart will feel tranquil and happy.

PINK

Does the question of whether the person you're attracted to romantically can also be your friend ever cross your mind? Or the question of whether that person can truly connect with you on a mental level? I see the people who chose this group are ardent lovers. The kind that would focus their all on a connection, passionate and gripping. You might be the person who loves falling in love, the feeling of romance and relationships brings you great joy. But the pitfall here is that you tend to idealise the other person and the connection to the point of overlooking some glaring incompatibilities. On a surface level, a person might seem fun and physically ideal to be your partner, but let some time pass and look closer, you will find that you don't really connect on a more deeper level. A telling sign would be that conversations are lacklustre, there's an uncomfortable silence between you, the subjects of the conversation are superficial. In the long run, this can create dissatisfaction in the relationship.

What you might not realise is that a deep bond, especially forged over many conversations, is essential to your feeling of overall happiness about life. Friendship matters, even love should be built based upon friendship. Having many people who you can call friends is actually more satisfying than having many lovers, friends who come from many walks of life, from all around the world. Having a group of close friends who can go on adventures with you, who can nurture you, who can build you up, who can make your mind buzzing, who can be your family, that's what brings true satisfaction to your heart.

Can you see the stag nipping at a tree while the peacock is facing the opposite direction? I think right now, the way you express yourself can be like a form of reaction to the specific person whom you're interacting with, rather than just communicating who you are in general. In conversations, you might try to act more cool, showing the best of yourself in order to build a favourable image, which is what all of us do to some degrees, consciously or not. But this shape-shifting energy can be detrimental to really connect with the other person. Instead of letting the other person provide you with 'nutrition' for your mind and heart, you're busy impressing them. This can happen in all your interactions, whether with strangers, acquaintances, friends, family, lovers. You should take a more relaxed approach, allowing the words to seep into you leisurely, building friendship as if growing a tree, then you will have a flourished heart.

GREEN

The word 'Success' has a lot of meanings to you, and all meanings have weight that defines your life. For you, being successful doesn't have to be about earning lots of money of being famous, though that is a part of the 'Success' that you pursue, it's not all. You want to leave behind your legacies, the proof that you exist, the proof that you have lived hard and well, that your life has meaning.

Throughout your life, you will encounter various stumbling blocks that require you to reinvent yourself, like ascending a stairway, each step bring your higher, closer to your ideals. You're willing to change yourself, to bring about a complete overhaul, allow yourself to play various roles, don many masks, life is a big stage and you're a magician, a jester or a seller, who always has something to dazzle and sell to the audience. This 'performance' is not fake or disingenuous at all, it's what you're born to do, to achieve prestige and finally reach the top of the stairway.

You have a core that's very malleable and agile, constantly moving, though it can help you be flexible and move through situations with ease, it can create an inner confusion. You feel like you have to be at all places, here and there, never settle down, forever swimming, nothing can hold you down and keep you in one place for long. This fuels your desire to find an anchor in the physical world. To know what you've done, what you've achieved, where you need to go. You need external structure and stability so that your internal spirit can swim freely. You can move a lot, but you need to feel a sense of home wherever you're. And that's not easy to achieve. But you have the knack to connect instantly with people, you can make the most distant stranger your friend in no time. The more people surround you, the safer you feel. Community and sense of camaraderie soothe you nomad heart. As long as you have people around you, everywhere can be your home.

And in that hope will you work your magic, working tirelessly to build your foundation. Even though your spirit is a nomad, constantly moving, you have trouble letting go of things and people, gradually, the stuff you pack with you gets more and more heavy, slowing you down. The challenge for you is to learn when to let go, to travel light. What your heart truly wants is the feeling of ascending the ladder, of knowing that you've done something meaningful and left a mark, of giving away the fruits of your labour, not the feeling of possessing and holding on to as many things as possible.

[psychotrenny]

Imperial Core Liberals love "forgetting" that a diversity of political opinions exist in other countries the second they see someone parroting an Imperialist talking point who happens to be from whatever country they're currently obsessed with intervening in. Like they'll take a single tweet from Juana B. Comprador saying "Thank you America for overthrowing that tyrant and bringing my people Freedom and Hamburger" as proof that Imperialist interference is good and anyone who disagrees is just a cruel, out of touch Westoid that's too arrogant to care about authentic lived experiences. And like you don't even need to think in Marxist terms of like class interest and national contradictions etc. to realise how stupid this; simple common sense should tell you "People in the Third World are not a hive mind; finding one individual who says a thing does not mean everyone in their nation agrees".

But that very simple and obvious fact is inconvenient to the self image of a "progressive" Imperialist, and so they simply don't think about it. Even when they're forced to admit that differences of opinion exist, they find some rhetorical framing to present such dissent as automatically illegitimate. Like clearly anyone from X country who disagrees with them is just a Russian agent or brainwashed stooge of the regime, not a free thinker that truly speaks for the people. It's a form of argument that relies on the patterns of dehumanisation that people in the Imperial Periphery are subjected to; as anonymised masses that lack any meaningful individuality, an "authentic" speaker for one is an authentic speaker for all. Their value in any conversation starts and ends as rhetorical constructs to affirm what you already believed; the complex thoughts and feelings of countless living humans do nothing but get in the way

[cressidagrey]

Stars all aligned - Chapter 12

Summary:

If there was one thing that both Azriel and Zahra Archeron had in common, it was that they were both very good at blending into the background.

They just never thought that their family were going to be the ones who never saw them at all.

Warning:

I'll keep the warnings, even though there is no outright mention in this part: Bashing of like...every IC member? Especially the Archeron Sisters, discussion of chronic pain, discussion of Infertility, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Underage Prostitution, Underage Rape/Non-con, Implied/Referenced Sexual Assault, Accidental Baby Procurement

If any of this triggers you or makes you uncomfortable, please, take care of your own mental health and don't read it.

(Lovely dividers thanks to @sweetmelodygraphics)

"You need to tell Rhys," Cassian told them seriously.

It was the last thing Zahra wanted to do. Only closely followed by talking to her sisters.

"You do it," she said, more of a jest than an actual request. But gods knew, her guts were actually twisting themselves in knots at the thought.

Cassian just shrugged. "I'll do it," he said drily.

"No, I'll do it," Azriel disagreed. "You are my mate and Azalea is our daughter."

Zahra swallowed at that claim in his voice.

Our daughter. It sounded as natural on his lips as breathing, sending a bolt of something through her that she didn't know how to define.

"I hate you," she said half-heartily and Azriel chuckled quietly, pulling her against his side.

"No, you don't," Azriel said and the cheeky note in his voice and the smirk on his lips had her heart flutter all over again.

The shadows seemed almost restless, twisting around his shoulders and fingers, curling around her hair…Their baby girl stirred a little, from napping in her arms, and Azriel's arm around her waist tightened almost...almost instinctively.

"We can't keep hiding you two away at Rosehall forever," Azriel said softly as he pressed a kiss against her hair. Zahra swallowed.

"Not that I'll protest," Esmeray said brightly. "You'll always be welcome here."

And Zahra loved Rosehall. She loved Esmeray. She loved it here...but there was a part of her that stupidly ached for her little cottage, for bringing Azalea there and making it a home for the three of them. It wasn't a grand house but it would be theirs and somehow that would be worth more to Zahra than anything else.

Home. The word send a pang through her.

Gods, she wanted nothing more than to make the cottage a home for their family. She wanted to move there and to forget about everything else.

Except…There was no forgetting the rest of her life or her family.

Azriel's arm tightened around her waist when she sagged against him, almost as if he knew what she was thinking, as if he was anticipating her thoughts and reactions.

She swallowed. No. There was no way around it. And she knew it.

Her gaze shifted to the baby in her arms. Azalea. Their baby girl.

She tried to shake off the sense of protectiveness that was taking hold, a feeling so...so foreign to her and...powerful and frightening all at the same time.

She...she wasn't a mother, she didn't know how to do this...

Azriel's free hand came up to her chin, tilting her face until she was looking at him.

He didn't say a word, just looked at her like he could see the panic and uncertainty that was clawing at her, wrapping itself around her insides until she was gasping for breath.

"Don't worry," he said quietly, firmly, his hand still cradling her chin, his eyes never leaving hers as if he was making her focus on him and his words. "We'll do this together."

"Rhys is going to kill us both," she told Azriel weakly. Cassian just snorted.

"He's not," Cassian disagreed. "Why are you always so pessimistic?"

Zahra just stared at him. Why indeed. "Because experience has taught me to expect the worst of things," she snapped back.

Cassian had the grace to wince.

Azriel's hand left her chin to twirl a piece of her hair around his fingers, almost...almost absentmindedly, as if he wasn't even aware of doing so. His arm was still wrapped around her waist, his fingers lazily tracing circles into her hip.

"You have a secret weapon though," Cassian said brightly.

"And what is my secret weapon?" she drawled back in disbelief.

Cassian pointed at Azalea. "That," he said like it was a perfectly logical and obvious explanation.

Zahra just stared at him. 

Cassian gave her a look. "She will make him go all soft and emotional," he said, clearly finding the idea somewhat amusing.

"He's going to turn to mush," Cassian promised her. "Ever since Feyre and him had Nyx, Babies make him go all soft and gooey," Cassian added. "And sappy," he said after a moment and she couldn't hold back a snort. "First rule of war, use every weapon in your arsenal," Cassian said seriously. "And who could possible resist you," he cooed at Azalea, who was blinking at him sleepily, waking up and cuddling into Zahra. “Not the big bad High Lord of the Night Court, not him.”

Azalea's eyes were wide as she stared at Cassian, like she couldn't quite believe there was another person fawning over her.

Zahra rolled her eyes at Cassian. "You are ridiculous," she said unimpressed by his antics.

"He's right," Azriel agreed though, much to her surprise.

"Of course I'm right," Cassian said in a cocky voice, too distracted by Azalea to truly notice who had agreed with him.

Zahra just huffed in annoyance,  as she watched Azalea grab a hold of one of Cassian's fingers, pulling it close. It was...cute, she had to admit that much.

Cassian...he was a big strong warrior. He could be gruff and rude and grumpy and a downright ass most of the time. And now...now a tiny baby maybe half the size of his biceps had him wrapped around her little tiny fingers.

Azalea giggled when she tugged at another one of his fingers, her tiny fist clenching around it, and Cassian's expression softened.

"Besides, I am there too," Cassian cooed at her. "Yes, I will be. Rhysie can't possible find fault with you, can he? No, he can't."

Azalea didn't seem to mind the baby voice Cassian was using. If anything, she seemed to be delighted by it, almost trying to pull the finger into her mouth to gnaw on it.

Zahra almost, almost snorted in amusement.

"I would be careful, " Azriel warned, "She has a tendency to bite." Cassian actually drew hand back in horror.

"Don't be a coward," Zahra said dryly and now she did chuckle quietly as Cassian sent her a glare, a look of...almost betrayal in his eyes.

"Are you telling me I should let her take a chunk out of me?" he asked, offended.

"If you want her to love you, you should," Azriel said drily, and Zahra snorted.

That just earned Azriel another glare. "That...I...she..." Cassian spluttered, then looked at Azalea, who was still looking up at him wide-eyed, as if almost waiting for him to offer his finger back.

Zahra bit her lip to keep from laughing.

"Your parents have a horrible sense of humour," he told Azalea drily.

Azalea just reached out a tiny hand for him again, her fingers opening and closing in a grabbing motion...and of course Cassian caved instantly, giving her his finger to hold again.

He was whipped. Completely and utterly whipped.

Zahra just pressed a kiss against her daughter's hair.

"How do you want to do it?" She asked Azriel softly. How did he want to deal with Rhys?

Azriel was quiet for a moment, the shadows curling tightly around his shoulders as he thought. Then he let out a sigh, his grip around her waist tightening a fraction. "The sooner we do it, the better," he said grimly. "We'll do it tonight."

"We'll do it now," Cassian corrected. "I'll ask him to come here and he will. We'll have a talk with him outside. And only if he manages to keep his temper...we'll let him anywhere near you," Cassian promised her.

"You don't need to do this," Azriel said, his voice tight.

"Yes, I do," Cassian disagreed. "Besides, if there are sides, I am picking the one with the cute baby!”

That did little to calm Zahra, even as she pressed another kiss to Azalea’s curls. 

“I am still there too,” Esmeray said drily from the kitchen. “I can be pretty fierce!”

***

To say that Amren had her own opinions about everything that had gone down while she hadn’t been there...well, that was an understatement.

Rhysand had heard about her opinion in great and graphic detail as she had stalked through his house towards his office.

Now Amren stood in front of the floor to ceiling windows, her arms crossed over her chest as she glowered at him, looking very much ready to punch him in the face.

And he didn't doubt she probably would.

Rhys just leaned back in his chair and waited as she kept up the silent treatment. He knew she would explode eventually.

"You're angry," he said flatly. It was a statement, not a question.

"You are leaving the Night Court vulnerable," Amren spat.

He almost winced at the venom in her voice. "How so?" he asked, trying not to sound defensive, trying to keep his own annoyance in check.

Amren sent him a look. She knew he knew what she was talking about. "Your spymaster is gone," she pointed out, her voice sharp and angry as she finally whirled on him. "Your General and his mate aren't even on talking terms at the moment. Your wife and her sisters are having a fight that has the potential to result in a civil war."

"It's not a fight," Rhys said with a sigh. It wasn't. Not truly. 

And it wasn’t going to end in civil war…probably. 

"It's close enough to one," Amren snapped and there was no denying that. "So how are you going to fix this?" she demanded.

There wasn't anything he could fix. How was he supposed to fix this? How was he supposed to...

He could never take away what happened to Zahra. He could never fix the scars that she would carry from it for the rest of her days...scars that maybe weren't visible to the naked eye but there non the less.

"I don't know," Rhys admitted, the words almost getting stuck in his throat.

The most powerful High Lord in the History of Prythian…and yet when it came right down to it...absolutely powerless for this. 

He didn't know.

The muscles in his jaw twitched as he swallowed, trying to get a hold on himself. On his thoughts. On his emotions.

It had brought up memories that Rhys himself would rather forgot. Things that he never wanted to happen even to his worst enemy, that had happened to him…

Amren had left in a snit after that, and quite frankly he didn't fault her. 

Right now it felt like their family was fracturing down to the center in multiple different directions.

And Rhys himself hadn’t been helping things either.  Azriel’s harsh words had made that very clear to him. 

Had made it painstakingly clear what they had done to Zahra, how they had treated her…and while Azriel hadn’t put it into so many words…his dark eyes had been accusing and harsh and…and the guilt had been gnawing at Rhys ever since then. 

Zahra hadn’t been the only one who had been treated horribly by their family. 

Azriel had been treated no better. 

Absolutlely no fucking better and it wasn’t…

Rhys couldn’t fault Azriel one bit for taking his mate and getting them both away from surroundings that had grown the worst sort of toxic for them.

They could be lucky that that was all Azriel had done. That Azriel had only told them all off for their behaviour towards Zahra…that he hadn’t just grasped his mate and took her somewhere else entirely. 

He could. Rhys didn’t doubt for one moment that if Azriel wanted to disappear and take Zahra with him…he could. And they would never see them again. 

It was a fucking miracle that Azriel hadn’t let the mating instincts get the best of him and went out for retribution…hadn’t slaughtered his way to the Human Lands. 

At this point Rhys could hardly have blamed Azriel if he had.

His hands clenched on the armrest.

Hell, Rhys himself wanted retribution. Wanted justice for a 15 year old girl that had only tried to keep her little sister safe. 

He wanted to slaughter the man that had dared to put his hands on Zahra.

He knew he wasn't the only one. He knew that once Feyre got over herself enough...once she understood and accepted that right now, Zahra didn't want to see her... that would be next on her list as well.

It was strange almost, the anger, the frustration that coursed through him. He was so unused to feeling it towards Feyre that there was almost a part of him that wondered how he should handle it. What could he even do?

The sharp mental tug that told him that one of his brothers wanted to talk to him broke him out of his thoughts.

Cassian? Where are you? he demanded immediately.

Rosehall, Cassian's response came. There was a slight edge to it, something sharp and almost...defiant. Come to me. We need to have a chat.

Rosehall? Cassian was in fucking Rosehall?! 

I thought we agreed to give Azriel some time to cool off, Rhys snapped right back. It was the least he owed his brother.

There are some...extenuating circumstances, Cassian said softly.

Extenuating circumstances. The words had Rhys straightening, his whole body going tense.

What kind of extenuating circumstances? he demanded.

The kind you need to see for yourself.

Rhys growled, the sound low and deep. You had better have a damn good reason for this, brother.

A very good reason to go against Rhysand’s order. 

I do, came the terse answer. Just get over here. Now.

It was the sound of absolute certainty in his brother's voice that had him doing as he demanded.

He was going to Rosehall and he was going to figure out what was the hell was going on.

It took him only a few seconds to winnow there.

He almost stumbled when he landed on the gravel path, his wings flaring out behind him. Rhys took a deep breath and tried to calm himself, tried to get himself under control again.

Then he turned and...froze.

He had expected Cassian waiting for him. He had not expected Azriel being there too.

There was something about Azriel’s body language that screamed tension. It was in the set of his shoulders, in the way he stood, in the way he carried himself.

But he was there.

He was willing to see him.

And he wasn’t wearing his fighting leathers, even when two siphons were sparking dully on his hands. 

It was more than what Rhys deserved.

His gaze slid over to Cassian, who was casually leaning against the house, almost as if he didn't have a care in the world.

That was a stark difference from Azriel.

But Rhys didn't take that obvious casualty for meaning that everything was well, for one moment. Cassian was good at diffusing tension.

"Azriel," he said, his voice weaker than he wanted.

"Rhysand." 

Azriel didn't seem to be in a forgiving sort of mood. Not that Rhys could fault him for that. The use of his name, the way it sounded almost cold from Azriel’s lips, was like a slap in the face.

Rhys flinched back, the muscle in his jaw clenching as he forced himself to hold Azriel’s gaze.

He wouldn't look away.

Even in the dim light of the evening, Rhys could make out the shadows curling tightly around Azriel. They were agitated, restless, snapping at empty space as they twisted around Azriel's limbs, as if preparing to strike.

"I..." The word felt lodged in Rhys’ throat, like he was trying to cough up something that had got stuck there. Azriel just raised an eyebrow at him.

Cassian pushed himself of the wall, his hands slipping into the pockets of his trousers as he sauntered forward.

"How...how is Zahra?" Rhys asked finally, forcing the words past the lump in his throat.

"She's doing well," Azriel answered, his voice cool.

It was something. It was more than he deserved. "I am sorry," Rhys blurted out.

The apology made the shadows around Azriel flicker, something almost akin to surprise flickering across his brothers face.

It was the first sign of something other than anger he had seen so far and he took it as a good sign.

"You should be," was all Azriel said.

"I know," Rhys said quietly. "I..." He paused again, drawing in a shuddering breath. "I am sorry," he repeated. "Not just for Zahra. We fucked up. I know that," he told Azriel seriously. "But I am sorry for how I behaved with you, too."

He had expected that Azriel would say something at that. He expected a cold reply, some snarky comment, or a scathing dismissal.

What he did not expect was a small nod. It was a small gesture, almost too small to be seen, but it was there. And it was progress.

Rhys let out a breath that he hadn't even realised he had been holding, his body relaxing.

It...it was a start.

His eyes darted over to Cassian, who was watching them with a carefully neutral expression on his face. A sharp contrast to his usual demeanour.

"It's a start," Cassian said after a moment, almost as if he had read Rhys' mind. Then he jerked his chin as if to say keep going.

Rhys turned back to Azriel and raised his chin almost like he was offering himself up, forcing himself to meet his brothers eyes again. And there was still so much anger in them, a sort of cold fury that was different than the hot anger Rhys was used to. It was the anger of someone who knew that they were right.

"But please," he said, a pleading note to his voice now that he hadn't even tried to hide. "Please, let me at least...let me try and make it up to her, to both of you."

There was a tense pause, Azriel just staring at him, still looking rather cold and distant. Rhys almost held his breath, waiting for his brothers response.

"There is something you need to know," Azriel said.

Rhys let out a breath of relief when his brother finally spoke, his shoulders loosing some of the tension.

“Alright,” he said, bracing himself for whatever it was that Azriel was about to say.

"The shadows kidnapped a baby." 

Those words didn't seem to sink in at first. Rhys just stared at his brother in disbelief.

"...I'm sorry, say that again?" he asked, his voice sounding almost strangled.

"The shadows abducted a baby," Azriel said again, slower, enunciating each word slowly.

The words sounded just as strange the second time. Rhys just stared a Azriel, trying to process...to figure out what the hell his brother was trying to say.

"A baby. A Baby?" Rhys asked. "Where did they find it?"

Azriel's body seemed to grow even more tense, if that was even possible.

He glanced at Cassian, some unidentifiable communication passing between them. Rhys' eyes flicker between them, trying to make sense of what was going on.

"She, not it." Azriel finally snapped. "She's Illyrian. And the shadows found her in my father's dungeon."

Rhys' brain stalled on the word dungeon. It took several seconds to process it, to understand what Azriel just said.

Then his whole body went cold, a horrified look on his face.

"You don't mean..." he said, his voice a mere whisper. "She's Ruben's daughter," he realised.

Azriel's half brother. The one behind the scars that covered his brother's hands.

Azriel just gave a terse nod, his lips thinning into a tight line. The muscles in his jaw were clenching again, his hands curled into fists at his side.

It wasn't hard to figure out where the anger was coming from. A child. A baby, who had been locked up in a dungeon.It was the type of knowledge that made his stomach curdle, that made the rage start to build. But he forced it down, forced himself to keep it in check.

"How did the shadows find her?" he asked finally when he was sure he could trust his voice.

"Zahra asked them to keep an eye on Ruben," Azriel answered evenly. "Then they found out that he kept his bastard daughter locked away in the dungeon. The wards were corrupted. So they just…took her and brought her here."

"And...the...the mother?" Rhys asked, almost afraid to hear the answer to that question.

"Dead in childbirth."

Rhys winced a the words, his stomach clenching. An orphan then, her mother having died in childbirth. That poor little girl...

"Do we know her name?" he asked quietly, almost dreading the answer.

Azriel's face went blank, his voice utterly lacking in any sort of emotion. "She didn't have one."

The thought made something in Rhys' chest tighten, a cold fury starting to run through his veins.

He was fairly certain that if Ruben was standing in front of him right now, he would have tried to rip out his throat out without a second thought.

"How long had she been down there?" he asked, knowing the answer would make things even worse.

"According to the shadows? All her life," Azriel said bitterly. His eyes were cold, his lips pressed tightly together.

"All her life," Rhys repeated, the words echoing in his head.

All her life.

Ruben had...Rhys had known a lot of horrific people in his life, had met a lot of monsters. But...that. He let out a breath, his hand coming up to scrub at his face.

"How old...how old is she..?" he said quietly.

"Six months," Azriel said, his voice flat. There was no inflection to it. No expression in his eyes.

Six months... A six-month-old baby. Locked up in a dungeon all her life...

It was a horrifying picture in his mind, one he was unable to get rid of.

He couldn’t help but see Nyx. Nyx. Nyx down in a dungeon. All on his own. 

He didn't want to think about what that must have been like for her... The sound she must have made in that isolated silence that had surrounded her. 

"I am not taking her back there," Azriel said, his voice diamond hard and fierce. "She'll stay with me and Zahra."

Rhys didn't even think to protest at his brothers words.

How could he? How could anyone look at this situation and expect the poor girl to go back to the man who had locked her up for her whole life?

"Is that what Zahra wants?" Rhys asked finally.

Azriel's eyes darkened, a muscle in his jaw twitching.

"It's what we want," he spat out, his words almost a growl. "Azalea is our daughter."

The fierce protectiveness bled from every single word. Rhys didn’t think for one moment that Azriel didn’t love her like she was his own flesh and blood. 

There was no doubting Azriel's conviction.

Azriel was deadly serious, and he would protect the girl he had claimed as his daughter with his dying breath.

Like a mother bear defended her cub. 

Rhys’ expression softened slightly, his shoulders releasing a bit of the tension. "I wouldn't expect anything else," Rhys said quietly."Azalea, you said?" He asked carefully.

"Yes," Azriel said, his eyes still glaring coldly. There was a hint of defensiveness in that word, a hint of caution, as if he was just waiting for Rhys to object against the name.

"It's a beautiful name," Rhys said finally, his voice softening even more. He could see the hint of surprise in Azriel's eyes at his words.

"You can see her," Azriel said suddenly, "If you want," he added, the words seeming almost reluctant.

Rhys blinked a bit, a flicker of surprise running through him. He wasn't sure if he had heard his brother correctly.

"You...you're letting me see her?" he asked slowly.

Azriel just gave a brisk nod, his body still tense. Cassian's eyes shot up in surprise, a look of absolute astonishment on his face. Then he turned to Rhys, his eyebrows raised, Don't you dare mess this up, Cassian warned him mentally. 

"I would like that," Rhys finally said finally, his voice slightly shaky.

Azriel studied him for a few moments, scrutinising him like a hawk. Then he gave a slow nod, his eyes not leaving Rhys for a second. "But if you do anything, and I mean anything to upset them,” Azriel said, taking a menacing step forward. 

Rhys could feel the threat hanging in the air, the promise of violence if he messed this up. His blood ran cold, his instincts telling him to step away from his brother.But he didn’t.

He met Azriel's glare head on, his chin raised in a silent challenge.

"I won’t," he said quietly. "I swear I won’t."

For a moment, Rhys thought that his brother wasn't going to believe him, was going to send him away again. Then Azriel nodded, the tension in his shoulders loosing a bit.

"Then come," Azriel said, jerking his chin towards the house.

Rosehall was warm and welcoming, and he could hear Esmeray's voice chattering softly as he stepped into the living room. Azriel’s mother was sitting in an armchair knitting. And then he saw Zarah.

Looking healthier than Rhys had seen her in months, her face having filled out some, dark brown hair in a messy braid over her shoulder...and curled around that braid were the tiny fist of the baby on her lap that she was currently offering porridge too.

The sight of her made his breath catch in his throat. She looked so...so unbelievably healthy. Happy even. Motherhood was agreeing with her.

His eyes lingered on the baby girl for a moment.

She was tiny. So tiny. A far cry from Nyx at that age…Pale with fluttering wings… Azalea looked almost fragile in her mother's arms, her small face scrunching up excitedly as she chomped down on the spoon. Rhys didn't think he had ever seen anything so sweet.

And then Zarah looked up and her expression shuttered.

Rhys could see the expression shifting on her face, the look of joy and contentment disappearing, replaced by something more guarded.

Rhys felt something sharp twisting in his stomach. THis was his fault.

Her eyes moved away from him, her body shifting to shield the baby somewhat from view. Rhys felt a pang at the action, the movement clearly protective and defensive. She was shielding the baby...from him.

Rhys’ heart ached with the thought, the feeling of guilt welling up in his chest. He deserved that. He knew he did. And yet...it still stung.

He forced a smile on his face, trying to make it seem as sincere as possible. “I’m happy for you,” he said, his voice soft. “You look well.”

The words seemed to have no effect on her, her expression remaining closed off and guarded. There was a hint of anger in the look she gave him before she turned her attention back to Azalea

The child squirmed in her arms, her little hands reaching out towards the spoon. Zarah just shifted her, rearranging the baby's position and offering her another spoonful that was hungrily eaten. 

Rhys couldn't take his eyes away from the sight. From the way Zarah carefully wiped a splotch of porridge off the baby’s cheek, how her expression had softened again while looking at Azalea..

And the baby...she was staring at him. Wide green hazel eyes...She could have passed as Azriel's twin. She was...so tiny. So fragile...yet she was looking at him with far more trust than he deserved.

He took a step forward before he could stop himself.

A sudden golden shield snapped up, surrounding Zarah and Azalea. 

The warning was perfectly clear: Stay away. He swallowed.

Rhys could nearly taste the magic, as Zahra fixed him with green eyes.

"If you ever treat him Azriel like that again, you'll have me to contend with. Is that clear?" Zahra asked him, her voice cuttingly sharp. "They are mine."

There was no fucking question what exactly she meant and he only inclined his head, staring at the golden shield that currently protected them. 

 He could see the magic pulsating faintly, the energy it exuded. She was...serious. That shield was strong.

He had never seen anything like that in his life. It seemed like the 3rd Archeron Sister that had been thrown into the Cauldron had come out of it with some kind of gift after all. 

He swallowed again, his gaze flickering from the shield to the baby.

"I understand," Rhys said quietly, his eyes not leaving hers.

Azalea was still looking at him, her little hands gripping at her mothers shirt.

Those bright hazel eyes were fixed on him, seemingly studying him, examining him curiously. There was no fear in her gaze, no uncertainty. Just simple curiosity.

She made a small noise as she looked at him, her tiny hand grasping at the shield, Zahra had wrapped around both of them.

"She's beautiful," Rhys said softly. "She is lucky to have you."

"No," Zahra disagreed fiercely. "We are lucky to have her."

Rhys' breath caught for a moment at the words. There was so much conviction in them. So much certainty. And...he didn't doubt her words for a second.

That baby girl...the look in Zahra's eyes, the protectiveness and the fierce love in her voice.

"I am sorry," he apologise softly.

Zahra's body didn't relax, her face still closed off and her eyes still wary. But she gave a slow nod, the corners of her mouth flickering into a slight frown for a moment.

The tension in the room was thick. So thick you could cut it with a knife.

Rhys found his eyes drifting back to the baby… And this time, Zahra loosened the shield so he could look at the girl more closely.

It went down with a shimmer of magic.

Just enough that Azriel moved to sit beside them on the couch...to take the bowl of porridge from Zahra and continue feeding his daughter who looked at him adoringly, gurgling happily.

Rhys could feel his heart clench at the sight. His brother was cooing at the small girl, a small smile on his face as he lifted the spoon to the baby's mouth.

She accepted it eagerly, chomping and giggling happily. 

Azriel's face...he was utterly enthralled, a look of wonder on his face as he watched the small girl. There was something...soft in his expression. Genuine joy at getting to feed the baby.

Rhys couldn’t remember the last time he had seen Azriel look so at ease. 

His brother was happy. There was no question about it. 

[rhenuvee]

Modern AU! Diluc who starts making videos on social media to promote the Angel’s Share by showing how he makes drinks- only to take a wrong turn when the comments end up being down bad for him.

This video makes me thirsty, and Im not talking about the drink.

Pls handle me like the cocktail shaker 🙏

Suddenly I have the urge to cook and clean 🛐

In case anyone asks, the drink is blue.

The drink in the video was orange, by the way- he caught on the implication of the commenters distraction very quickly. And worst of all, his brother Kaeya laughing at the whole situation in the comments, not helping at all.

“Listen to this one ‘Luc: ‘Who needs a napkin when I could be cleaning his hands’, drooling emoji.”

Your poor husband, can’t even look you in the eye anymore. His fingers had been pinching the crease between his eyebrows for a while now, a little embarrassed at the totally different response than expected from his audience. He can't believe the viewers are more interested in his forearms than drink making.

“Y-You’re not helping, my love.” He says. He's frustrated at the comments, but can't help the blush when you say something so desperate. You feel a little bad for adding fuel to the fire (secretly giggling along with Kaeya), but it’s tough when you can’t deny the truth in the comments paired with your husband’s cute reaction.

“Perhaps you just need to cover up a little.” You suggest. Yes, he thinks. His next short video has him wearing his long sleeve dress shirt and gloves, instead of rolling up the sleeves. He's got them now, Diluc thinks as he hopes for normal comments.

However, the viewers are quick to find another way to "simp" for your husband (which you had to teach him the meaning of). With his arms covered now, some comments expressed their disappointment. But most focused their attention on the reveal of skin of his neck and the slightest view of his collarbone.

"It's no use." Diluc grumbles after a long day, his head resting on your stomach, defeated. You smile, bringing your hand to comb through his fiery red hair.

"I can't disagree, you do have nice hands." You tease, referring to the previous video's comments. Diluc looks up at you from your stomach with an annoyed expression. "You're too handsome, my love."

Diluc flushes pink when he hears your compliment. You say it quite often, but he'll never get tired of it.

He feels as if there's no solution to this. Wear his wedding ring? People would probably still focus more on his fingers, or create more down bad comments on being married to him. Bring you into the video? He absolutely does not want people to comment on you. Get his father to make the drink instead? No- he remembers the time his father was in two seconds of a past video and caught mortifying comments of the word "Zaddy" being spammed along with a timestamp. It was quickly deleted. He knows the pattern.

"So what will you do, my handsome husband?" You ask, interrupting his train of thought. You calling him handsome twice was enough for him to take a deep breath before composing himself to answer you.

"I'm too tired to handle this anymore." He sighs. "Maybe I'll give this job to Kaeya, offer him free drinks."

"Bold move, but I like it." You reply. Though you can’t help but feel like Kaeya would meet the same fate.

As for the results of Kaeya's efforts, let's just say that free drinks were not enough to help combat the thirsty comments. The good news is, the Angel's Share social media continued to rise in popularity.

[dcmcboxers]

My shout-out to queer youtubers

Hbombs list was great but obviously not comprehensive. I watch a lot of video essayists and wanted to give a little love to the smaller channels that fall under the radar. Please feel free to add to this list!

let's talk about stuff/Sarah Zedig

If you've seen Jesse Gender's videos on the Matrix movies you may already be familiar with Sarah. She does excellent film and culture analysis with a lot of great conversations on paratext and outside influence in engaging with text. Her video on Tunic is one of my favorites.

Pamphleteer

No one makes videos like hers, which has the side effect making them a bit hard to describe. I will link one of my favorites which describes the disconnected temporality of being older when you discover you're queer.

Turbo Queer

Really really under watched channel. Skylar covers a lot of topics from video games, to anarchist history and modern events, to autistic life, to current politics. For a fun one check out her video on the SpongeBob strike episode.

Kaz Rowe

Kaz does a fantastic job examining modern myths and manufactured history primarily pertaining to western Europe, Victorian & Edwardian England, and 1800-1900s US. And of course, talking about historical queerness in all its ambiguities and evolutions. I highly recommend their video on Weimar Germany.

drapetomania

drapetomania interrogates the politics of low class and high class art and entertainment from a queer and Black perspective. Their art history videos alone cover many angles of white supremacist history I haven't seen anyone else discuss and I'm very excited to see more from them. They are also a very under viewed channel that more people should see!

I am error

Evelynn's channel primarily discusses video games in a presentation style and voice most similar to Action Button reviews. There's something just a bit more personal here though. I hesitate to say cozy since that word has a bit of an infantilizing connotation, maybe comforting is closer. She puts an immense amount of thought and empathy into the experience of playing video games and the personal narratives we build with them.

Swolesome

For more transmasc perspectives there's Swolesome. He has a lot of interesting insights into the more traditionally masculine and "broish" communities like fitness as well as commentary on recent trans issues.

Shonalika

Music, disability, and aggressively non-binary. Their video on gender presentation in heavy metal was really insightful. I would also check out the video "Why I Wear Gloves" for more insight on invisible disabilities.

Vivian Strange

Vivian delights in being a bit of a contrarian- something I really appreciate. She's probably going to challenge you and you're probably going to disagree at times, which is what makes her channel so important. Her video on Marquis De Sade is powerful and a must watch (if you can stomach the subject material, although I would encourage you to try). I haven't seen her most recent video on Saw yet but I am extremely excited to.

[violentdelightsandviolentends]

Honey Girl. Chapter Ten.

One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. Seven. Eight. Nine. Eleven. Series Masterlist. The Playlist.

Chapter Synopsis - The two of you have some time to yourselves for what feels like the first time in forever.

Pairing - Dadsbestfriend!Bucky Barnes x female reader - soulmate au

Warnings - smut. cursing. mention of a panic attack. initial hospital setting. one alcohol mention.

Word Count - 4k

Authors Note - 10!! 10 whole chapters!! can you believe it!! pancake recipe taken from mr carlos sainz - thanks carlito <3. double date next chapter (with protective/jealous bucky, as requested ;)). and the much awaited conversation… coming very soon. thanks for the love and support and kindness. it means the world, always <3

as always, if you enjoyed this, please consider reblogging!! reblogs are the only way to circulate my writing, which generates more of it. feel free to send me a comment or an inbox, too!! thanks, my loves!! <3

Masterlist. Inbox.

“Before I came down to find you, your Mom raised a question with me.”

“… which was?”

He takes a deep breath. Exhales it shakily.

“She asked me how long you and I have been soulmates.”

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

“We can’t sit out here forever, honey.”

You stretch out your legs from where they’ve been tucked up against your chest, chin resting on your knees. Bucky places a hand on your thigh, thumb rubbing gentle circles.

“We can.”

He chuckles, pressing a kiss into the top of your head.

“I know it’s scary, but we can’t run from this any longer. We’re just going to have to face it head on.”

“I know,” you sigh, taking his hand in yours. “I’m just…”

You trail off, leaving words unspoken in the air like particles of dust in the sunlight.

“What are you so afraid of? Is it that they won’t support us? Honey girl, they aren’t gonna have much of a choice. We are literally soulmates.”

You’re trying to find a way to explain, but none of your thoughts are coherent enough to articulate into something comprehensible.

“I don’t know, Buck. At first, I think it was that. But now? Maybe I just feel guilty that we’ve kept something so huge a secret for so long. I used to tell my parents everything - by choice. That’s how we’ve always been. And suddenly, the biggest event of my life happens, and I… didn’t tell them?”

“You’re letting this guilt eat you alive, baby. Listen, I feel it too. You’re not alone in this. Do you know how many times your parents have asked me about dating in these last eighteen months? How many times we’ve talked about soulmates? And I guess I never lied… but I haven’t exactly told the truth. I’m just as guilty as you think you are.”

“I’m sorry,” you confess, resting your head against his broad shoulder. “I’ve had such tunnel vision with this whole situation. I’ve been selfish. I should have thought about you more.”

“You haven’t had to.”

“Hmm?”

“You’ve got nothing to apologise for, honey baby. You’ve never had to ‘think about me more’, because you’ve known how I felt this whole time. In here.”

He places a hand over your heart. You close your eyes, letting the warmth from his palm bleed into your chest. The weight of it grounds you back down to Earth, tethered to your soulmate in more ways than one.

“That’s the beauty of it,” he continues. “You don’t have to guess how I’m feeling, or when I’m feeling it - because I’m always telling you. And you’re always listening.”

“I don’t deserve you,” you whisper, squeezing his hand where it’s still linked with yours.

“The Universe disagrees,” he whispers back, leaning in to kiss the spot underneath your ear. “I disagree.”

It’s all so tender, so gentle, so real, that a lump in your throat forms instantly. You blink rapidly, fighting back tears as you press your side into his. If you could sew yourself into his ribcage and live there forever, resting your head on his beating heart, you would.

“Come on,” he coaxes carefully, pulling you to your feet and watching to see if you’re steady enough. “Let’s do this thing.”

You stare up at him, lost in those ocean blue irises. For a moment, you swear you see the waves moving in them, crashing against the shore in a motion so comforting, it reminds you of home.

“I love you.”

Bucky smiles at you, pupils dilating and heart beating that little bit faster. He’ll never get sick of hearing those words.

“I love you more than all the stars in the sky, honey girl. More than anything.”

Tangling your fingers with his, you inhale deeply before taking the first step forwards, towards the front doors of the hospital.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

When you reach your Dad’s room, you drop Bucky’s hand as if by instinct. When he links your fingers once more, you panic momentarily, before realising it’s futile.

They already know. There’s no point in hiding it anymore.

You walk through the door hand in hand, pressed into each others sides as if it’ll keep you standing upright. Maybe it will.

Your Mom instantly bolts out of her chair, coming over to assess you. She looks you up and down, cradling your face in her hands as she checks you over.

“You were gone a long time, sweetheart. You okay? Have you been crying?”

Bucky lets go of you to give you some space, but doesn’t go too far. You can still feel his warmth from behind you as you watch your Mom’s eyebrows furrow with worry.

“I had… I think it was, um… like a - a panic attack, or something. I don’t know. I just got overwhelmed.”

Your voice sounds so small again, so fragile. You mentally chastise yourself for not being stronger for her.

“Oh, honey.”

She pulls you into her chest, stroking your hair just like she did when you were a child and had a nightmare. You’d run across the hall and into your parents room - your Mom would always bolt upright when she heard little feet on the wooden floors, waiting for you with open arms.

“Your Dad is gonna be fine. I promise you, the Doctors have said he’ll make a full recovery.”

“It’s true.”

The voice is croaky and rusted from misuse, but it unmistakably belongs to the man lying in the hospital bed.

You make your way over and sit down carefully, cautious and calculated. Your Dad takes your hand, stroking his thumb across your skin.

“I’m gonna be just fine, kid. I know I scared you, and I’m really sorry. But I’m okay. Promise.”

You smile at him, genuinely this time, before leaning in to press a quick kiss to his cheek.

“You guys should go home.”

“What?”

“You heard me. Go home, get some rest. The two of you look almost as exhausted as Lori does.”

Your Mom laughs, shaking her head. You chuckle, watching them. There’s no one funnier than your soulmate.

“I think we should stay a little longer, Jack.”

Bucky’s voice has all three of your heads whipping around to face him.

“Buck, please be on my side here. You’re tired. Go home, sleep it off. All I’m gonna do for the next twenty four hours is sleep anyway. There’s no point in you sitting here watching me like a bunch of creeps.”

You chew your bottom lip, watching your Dad’s face carefully.

“Mom, Dad - we need to talk about-”

“I know, babygirl,” your Dad interrupts. “And we will. But not here, and not now. We’ll do it when I’m home. We can all sit on the couch and drink your Mom’s cherry lemonade and talk about how you and Bucky have been soulmates this entire time.”

“Not this entire time,” you grumble at his attempt at a joke.

“Seriously, you two. I won’t ask again. Go. Home.”

You look at your Dad for a moment, before averting your gaze to your Mom. They’re both wearing the exact same facial expression - the one they used to give you when you’d refuse your bedtime as a six year old on a school night.

“Come on, honey. You heard them. We’re practically dead on our feet.”

You rise from the bed reluctantly, pressing another kiss to your Dad’s cheek before doing the same to your Mom.

“Call me if anything changes, or if you need anything. I mean anything, you guys.”

They both nod as your Dad does a mock salute, laughing at himself.

Bucky extends his hand out for you. This time, you don’t hesitate to take it. You hold it tightly all the way back to his truck, and then all the way back home.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

You and Bucky get ready for bed in silence, both of you flitting around your apartment as quickly as possible. You can’t wait to finally get under your duvet and lose the stress of the last twenty four hours.

The minute your head hits the pillow, you’re wide awake.

The exhaustion has seeped into your bones, making you weary but restless. You can’t settle, physically or mentally.

Bucky, on the other hand, is out like a light.

He looks so peaceful like this. The moonlight soaks through a gap in the curtains, illuminating his face like some sort of angel. His hair is a little longer than usual, stubble growing out across his sharp jawline. He looks rugged, a little rough around the edges. He’s the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen.

As if he can feel your gaze on him, he cracks an eye open, blinking to adjust to the dimly lit room. He has a pillow crease across his skin, cheek flushed pink with a dusty blush.

“You okay, baby?”

His voice is hoarse and all sleep heavy, rumbling through you like gentle summer thunder.

“Can’t sleep,” you whisper, trying to fight back tears. “I’m so tired, Buck. So fucking tired.”

“But you can’t sleep?”

He pulls you into his chest, tucking your head into the crook of his neck and stroking your hair soothingly.

“It’s like my body is exhausted, but my brain is wide awake,” you mumble into his bare skin. “Doesn’t make sense.”

“Nothing makes sense,” he chuckles lowly. “Nothing in this goddamn world makes sense. Except for me and you.”

Bucky spins you in his arms so your back is to his chest, bodies pressed together without an inch of space between you. Pressing a kiss into your neck, he starts mumbling.

“You just need to turn your brain off, baby. I know it’s easier said than done… so I’m gonna help you. All you need to do is focus on my voice, on my touch. Focus your attention on my hands on you, my lips on your skin. The heat of my body against yours.”

He skims his fingers down your side, gripping at your hips to ground you. He’s still kissing your neck, nipping occasionally to vary the sensation. He slips a hand down your front, cupping you over your underwear as you close your eyes, breathing him in. He smells like salt water and sea air and gasoline and home.

You cant your hips into his touch, trying to get him where you want him. Bucky takes the hint, slipping his hand into your panties and running a finger through your wetness. You groan, throwing your head back into his solid shoulder.

“Just switch off, honey baby. Give in to me.”

Bucky glides a finger into you, crooking it towards him. His palm hits your clit and you keen, whining all high pitched and breathy. His hips buck into your backside at the sound, and he chuckles.

“Fuck, you sound so sweet. Sweetest girl in the world.”

He adds another finger, using his thumb to circle your clit in precise, firm motions. You’re writhing against the mattress like a serpent, unable to stay still as Bucky takes you apart.

“Come for me, baby. Can feel you squeezin’ my fingers. That’s it, atta girl… ride my hand, take what you need. Wanna hear how pretty you sound when you come.”

Your entire body tightens up as you reach your climax, back arching away from Bucky as he continues to curl his fingers. He pulls you close, anchors you to him as you moan and shudder.

Your head is empty, besides the thought of your soulmate. All you can think about is Bucky.

Bucky Bucky Bucky Bucky Bucky.

You take a stuttered inhale as you try to catch your breath, beads of sweat dripping down your back.

“You okay?”

He’s muttering into your shoulder, mouth never leaving your skin. You nod, linking your fingers with his where they rest on your waist.

“You didn’t come,” you whisper, leaning your head back into Bucky.

He kisses your cheek, chuckling lowly.

“This wasn’t about me,” he reassures. “It’s all about you, baby. Always is.”

The two of you breathe together for a little while, allowing you to come down from your high. Eventually, Bucky taps your thigh, nudging you up.

“Come on, honey. Get up and use the bathroom, and then we’ll sleep for the next week.”

You do as he says, crawling back into bed with limbs that feel like jelly.

“How you feelin’?” he asks as he pulls you into his side, resting your head on his chest.

“Fucking fantastic.”

He laughs and you can’t help but laugh too, as if by reflex.

“Yeah? No more racing thoughts in that pretty head of yours?”

“None. All I can think about is how much I want to sleep right now.”

Pressing a kiss onto the top of your head, Bucky tightens his arms around you.

“Then sleep, baby.”

You snuggle into your soulmates side, relaxing into the mattress.

“I love you,” you mumble into his skin.

“I love you,” he murmurs back. “Sweet dreams, honey girl.”

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

When you wake, you can’t tell if you’ve slept for five minutes or five days.

The sheets are crumpled, linen strewn across the bed as the pillows sit completely unmoved at the headboard. Sunlight filters in through the curtains, warming your skin that’s exposed to the sea soaked breeze.

You reach over to the other side of the mattress, seeking Bucky’s warmth. You’re met with empty space, and the sound of a throat clearing on the other side of the room.

The man in question is leaning against the doorframe, shirtless and sun kissed. His boxers are hugging his thighs just right, and you repress the urge to crawl over and sink your teeth into the muscle. Later.

“Morning or afternoon?” You croak out, watching as he softly smiles at your sleep addled voice.

“Morning. Eleven twenty four.”

You stretch your arms above your head, unaware of the way Bucky’s eyes are glued to your bare stomach.

“You want breakfast, or have you eaten?”

“Haven’t eaten yet. Was waiting for you.”

You slide down to the end of the bed where Bucky meets you, leaning down to press a minty kiss to your lips.

“Have you been awake long?”

He shakes his head, stealing another kiss.

“Ten minutes or so.”

“How’d you sleep?”

He moves some hair away from your face gently, the morning affection making you light up inside.

“Like a baby. Don’t think I moved once.”

You laugh, running your fingers over his bare shoulders.

“I can’t remember the last time I slept like that.”

“Me neither. I think we need to start prioritising sleep a little more.”

“It’s just… so hard,” you murmur, rising onto your knees on the bed so you’re face to face. “I don’t ever want to sleep when I have the most handsome man alive in my bed. I can think of many other things I’d rather be doing.”

He groans, chuckling lowly.

“Watch it,” he warns. “Or I’ll keep you in this bed all day. Won’t let you leave.”

“Is that a threat or a promise, Barnes?”

He football tackles you suddenly, both of you falling backwards into the plush sheets. You squeal, caught off guard as his hands squeeze your sides firmly.

“Keep running your mouth and see what happens, angel.”

You card your fingers through his hair, tugging slightly to get a reaction. When his eyes flutter closed, you breathe out a laugh.

“I’m so scared,” you tease, peppering his face with gentle kisses. “Like, quaking in my boots.”

He goes to retort, but is interrupted by the deafening sound of your stomach rumbling.

“If we weren’t about to get noise complaints from the neighbours about that hunger of yours, I would absolutely continue this. But…”

“We need to eat.”

“Yes, we do.”

You peck his cheek before jumping off the bed, stretching as you make your way to the kitchen. Bucky follows you eagerly. Of course he does.

You click the coffee maker on as you spin to face him where he’s leaning against the counter.

“I’m about to make you the best pancakes you’ll eat in your entire life, James.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah. Watch and learn, baby.”

When he doesn’t move, you walk him backwards, pulling out the bar stool from underneath the island.

“You just sit there and look pretty.”

He shakes his head with a smirk as you wink, turning on the stove and grabbing your bowls and utensils. He didn’t ask for a cooking lesson, but you’re about to give him one.

“The trick is to separate the egg whites from the yolks, and whip them. When they’re fluffy, you fold them into your mixture, and it makes the pancakes light and airy and gorgeous. Then you add honey, for extra sweetness.”

He watches you flit around the kitchen as if you’re the sun, bright and warm and radiant. He can’t take his eyes off you for a second. He couldn’t if he wanted to.

Bucky’s blinking back tears, suddenly, as you sway your hips while flipping the pancakes at the stove. He wants to drop to his knees, yell out to a higher power and ask what the hell he did to deserve someone like you. He’ll beg, if he has to, for someone, something, to make sure that he finds you in every universe, in every version of this crazy life.

“I love you,” you beam at him, as if you’ve read his mind. “I love you more than anything.”

Your grin is so blinding, so utterly brilliant that the entire room lights up with it. Your own form of electricity.

“I… I-”

“I know, Buck.”

It gets like this, sometimes. Too overwhelming to put into words. To love someone more than anything, anyone - a love that knows no bounds - is completely indescribable.

So he doesn’t even try. He just nods at you, watching as your eyes light up at the sight of him.

“Will you pour us some coffee while I put these on a plate?”

“Anything you need,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to your hair as he squeezes past you to grab the mugs. “Always.”

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

You settle down to eat on the balcony, letting the midday sun warm you both up.

“I brought syrup, but, I also brought this.”

You hold out a plastic tub that contains a dark pink mixture, popping the lid off.

“Try it.”

Bucky sticks his little finger in, putting it in his mouth and sighing in contentment at the taste that coats his tongue.

“Good?”

“So good. What is it?”

“My homemade raspberry and lemon coulis. I make it to go on top of pancakes and waffles - it beats maple syrup any day.”

“You’re a genius.”

“So it’s been said,” you laugh, pouring it over your plate. “Now eat before they go cold.”

“Yes ma’am.”

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

“You weren’t lying,” he says when he’s finished. “They were the best pancakes I’ve ever eaten.”

You laugh, sliding across to press your side into his.

“There’s a lot more where that came from. I have so many recipes I want you to try.”

“God, I’m so lucky. I have the most perfect soulmate in the world, and she’s a baker. What did I do to deserve you, hmm?”

You lean in to kiss him gently, licking across his lips. He tastes like raspberries and sugar and eight hours of sleep.

You’re sat in comfortable silence when your phone rings, startling you both.

“Hello?”

“Babe?”

“Lacie?”

“Hey!”

“Hi!”

You smile instantly, and Bucky does too, by default.

“Your Mom called me and told me about your Dad. She’s been keeping me updated over text. How are you guys holding up?”

“We’re good, honestly. It was a little touch and go at first, but now… we’re okay. All of us.”

“Good. I love you guys.”

“Love you too. So much.”

She sighs all deep and wistful, and you can’t help but chuckle.

“What’s up, Lace?”

“Well… I’m calling with a proposition. And I feel like you’re gonna say no, but your Mom already told me that I had to force you to do it, so.”

“Oh, God.”

“Come on a double date with me and Cameron tonight. Come for dinner and drinks with us.”

You take a deep breath, looking over at Bucky. He nods in agreement, encouraging you.

“Okay.”

“Yeah?”

Her surprise is undeniable, the octave of her voice rising ever higher.

“Yeah. I haven’t seen you in too long, and it’ll be good for me to meet Cameron, finally. Plus, we’re visiting my Dad this afternoon, so we have a free evening.”

“Oh my God, I am so excited! Okay, I’ll text you the address of where we’re eating. Cam knows so much about you already, he can’t wait to meet you. And I can’t wait to meet Bucky… again? I mean I’ve met him before, but not as your soulmate.”

“Yeah,” you giggle. “It’ll be good for everyone to get… reacquainted.”

“Exactly!”

“Alright, Lace. We’ve gotta get ready to visit my Dad, but I’ll see you later?”

“See you later, babe. I am so excited. See you then!”

She puts the phone down, and you can almost picture the cloud of perfume and pressed powder that’s about to rain down on her bedroom. You wish you were there to watch it happen, like old times.

“Our first double date, huh?”

“It’ll be our last if you don’t behave,” you tease, leaning in to peck Bucky’s lips.

“Don’t tempt me.”

You laugh into his mouth, running your fingers through the ends of his hair at the back of his neck. It’s the longest you’ve seen it, and it’s starting to curl all cute and soft and wispy.

“Come on. Let’s go see my Dad, and then spend hours mentally preparing ourselves for Storm Lacie.”

“I always liked her. Seemed good for you.”

“She is. She’s the best.”

Bucky wraps a strong arm around your shoulder as you swing your legs over his lap, burying yourself in his bare chest.

“You nervous?” he asks into your temple.

“A little, weirdly. Meeting each others soulmate is the kind of thing we’d talk about when we were kids. And now we’re doing it.”

“We can handle it,” he reassures, his thumb rubbing patterns into your arm. “We can handle anything, you and I.”

“Anything?”

“Anything, honey girl. Anything.”

tag list part one

@lillytracy6996 @securegorgon @roostersforevergirl @povlvr @val-writesstuff @dreadfulxives18 @1deadpool26 @abbygraceasd @nyutasgirl @mavrellover91 @winterslove1917 @f-this42 @skewedcherries @noisesinthedark @kandis-mom @black-cat-2 @harrystylesandthegoobs @vladsgirlxx @h0nestly-though @arienotari @nash-dara @wandaneedstherapy @galaxy-dusk @justherefortheficandsmut @cremebruleequeen @cjand10 @buggy14 @avengers-fixation @blueberrybambi @beautiful-loserr @sarah1barnes @miss-rebel-without-applause @ragingrainbowshipl @shamrockqueen @savemeroman @jenn-f @8crazy-freak8 @daddyjackfrost @openup-yourmind @adangerousbalance @mandijo17 @daddylorianisastateofmind @rcarbo1 @casa-boiardi @spideegwen @navs-bhat @mssbridgerton @asuni921 @middle-of-the-earth @mfrnchsk

[everything-is-as-it-was]

Just rewatched the first (!!) pizza mukbang video and Oh God I Am So Fond of This Work of Art. (this is a long one sorry!!)

Does it ever occur to you... they owned their house at this time. They were building it. They knew they were going to own their phorever home together. god

Dan knew he was going to come out. That was his next big project. The fact that he even talks about how he's (at that time) growing and changing rapidly as a person all the time... he was doing so much.

Phil's whole vibe of gently shutting Dan's pessimistic comments is everything to me. Obv the most famous one is the 'you ever feel like you don't have a personality?' but it happens so many more times and it just makes me love phil so much he's so gentle

side note- when Dan talks about how he was thinking about saying 'eating ass' in his Living My Truth video Phil's face goes BLANK it's incredibly funny

When Phil says 'there was a moment, about a month before we did it, that I didn't think it was going to happen, in a way.' And knowing the context behind that, the fact that Dan was breaking down because he wanted to come out and felt like he couldn't, GOD. And the way Phil phrases it too, how even after Dan says 'because I was having a mental breakdown!' he goes on to say how it was a lot of things, not just that. True love or whatever idegaf

And there's so many times where Dan will jump in to clarify what Phil's saying- like when Phil talks about how he liked hearing people laugh in real time, and Dan jumps in to say how he's not saying that in a 'it's more gratifying to feel clapping' way. And again, this happens multiple times!! I feel like it just shows how in tune they are, how Dan knows what Phil means and how that might be misconstrued, and wants to make sure everyone else knows what he means too.

SO MUCH soft launch. The hand on the thigh. The "eating ass." The wide hips comment. The Zac Efron comment. Jesus.

I love the imagery of them sat on the couch trying to watch the handmaid's tale and Phil is absolutely losing it crying so Dan switches it to something happier. I mean I guess 'love' might not be the best word but it's just so sweet

D: "I panic about everything all the time." P: "Why are you worried?" D: "I don't know." -- man knowing the context of everything this hits hard

The way Phil challenges him when he says "i think I could just live in a hole" is- idek how to describe it. It's so matter-of-fact, so, "I know how you get, so I'm approaching this from a logical perspective because I know how to reason with you." ugh.

Anyhow sorry this was massive!! So so so many thoughts about this wonderful video and feel free to discuss/disagree with me :) I love any opportunity to yap loll

[thewintersoldierdisaster]

a/n: happy no shave/no nut november! an anon had asked about this challenge for william and i couldn’t resist. 😇 thanks to the anons that helped out on deciding on the prize! enjoy and get ready for so much more fic fun to come!

word count: 4.8k

tw: so much smut, dirty talk, masturbation (f and m) but not finishing, fingering (f recieving), nipple play, use of toys, creampie, edging, honestly it’s a no nut november fic so it’s just porn without plot (let me know if i missed anything)

summary: between william taking part in no shave november and no nut november, you think you’re going to go crazy. who knew the month could feel so long?

“I hate November.”

Your whine is obnoxious even to your own ears, childish and petulant. You kick a foot out on the mattress for good measure and William laughs.

“Älskling,” he coos, coming over to the bed and wrapping a hand around your ankle. He tugs gently and you slide easily down the mattress towards him. “You didn’t have to agree to the bet.”

“Yes I did,” you grumble, kicking your other foot at him. He catches it easily in his free hand and then suddenly, you’re trapped, both of your legs held in the air before William pulls you forward again and has you wrap your thighs around his hips. His hands are warm on your skin, calloused fingers stroking gentle, lazy circles. You’re fully aware that, with your legs spread like this, he could easily get his hands on your cunt and can probably feel the heat radiating from between your legs.

Your clit gives a painful throb, untouched and desperate for him.

Nearly three weeks without sex and you’ve never been hornier in your entire life.

It hadn’t been bad at first, and then you’d been on your period and the thought of being touched at all was repulsive. But now you’re rapidly hurtling towards ovulation week and it’s nearly impossible to be in the same room as William without wanting to jump him.

William’s keeping his lips zipped, but the second you find out which one of his godforsaken teammates decided a No Nut November bet was a good idea, you’re killing them.

Of course, you’re partially to blame since you’d laughed at William and told him “how hard can it be? To not have sex for a month.” So he’d made a bet with you, challenging you to take part and not come for the whole month and do the challenge with him. You’d agreed, not really deciding on what the winner gets since you’d figured that you would be able to outlast your boyfriend and would just make him do whatever you wanted anyway. Maybe you’ll make him do all the laundry for a month.

What you’d conveniently forgotten was that No Nut November coincided with No Shave November and William’s rocking a moustache that shouldn’t turn you on as much as it does.

“You did this to yourself,” William laughs, torturing you by running his palms up the inside of your thighs and stopping inches from where you need him the most. “You can stop any time.”

He knows you can’t, knows you’re stubborn as hell.

You scowl at him, completely disagreeable with the lack of orgasms. Your whole body feels tight and like a live wire. Any touch might be enough to send you over the edge.

Frustratingly, William doesn’t seem to be as bothered as you are. Sure, he’s been walking around with some aggressive erections, his thick cock prominent against the front of his pants when he’s home with you. But he’s been like a maniac on the ice, racking up goals and assists at a pace that rocketed him to the top of team’s point sheet.

“I don’t know how this isn’t frustrating you,” you mutter, kicking your heel lazily against the top of his ass. You’re satisfied to see the shape of his cock press against his jeans, thickening slowly. “Shouldn’t you be all cranky and blue balled?”

“Trust me, älskling,” William grumbles, “my balls are plenty blue. But I get my frustration out on the ice. If I’m scoring a goal or whatever, I’m not thinking about how fucking horny I am or how badly I want to fuck you into the mattress.”

You let out a little squeak and your legs instinctively try to close, blocked by William’s bulk. He grins wickedly when your thighs flex and you nearly cry when his hand snakes up and his fingers press against your core, plastering the fabric of your panties against your wet cunt. You wiggle, trying to get away from him, but all it does is make your clit pulse and arousal drip more steadily down the seam of your ass.

“Williammmmm,” you whine, kicking at his back and reaching to pull his hand away. Your grip on his wrist falters when his fingers press down harder, a gasp punching from your lungs.

“You’re so wet, huh, my girl?” He murmurs, dick twitching in his pants. His gaze is locked on you, watching as a wet spot forms on the fabric, soaked through your panties and onto your shorts. “If you asked nicely, I could make you come right now. Just a few presses of my fingers against your little clit and you’d feel better.”

It sounds so nice, relief from the achy fire that’s consumed your body for three weeks. Getting rid of the lust fog in your brain too would be helpful. And he’s right, a quick twitch of his fingers against your clit and you’d probably be a goner. But then you’d also be a loser, and you refuse to be a loser.

“No, no, I’m fine,” you manage to choke out, breathless. Your hips move on their own accord and you know you need to get him away from you soon or you’re definitely going to lose.

“You sure?” He laughs, stoking you lightly.

You nod, biting hard on your tongue. William’s lips are curled up in a wicked smile that immediately turns into a frown and a grunt when you shift your leg and angle your knee so you can press the heel of your foot against the hard bulge in his pants. He grunts again when you press down, smiling sweetly at him.

Shoe’s on the other foot now.

“I could take care of that little problem you’re having,” you murmur, getting relief when he finally moves his hand off your cunt to grab your ankle again and pull it away from his dick. He lets you rest the sole of your foot against his stomach and moves his other hand to block access to his dick.

“You know my problem isn’t little,” he retorts, pinching the top of your foot and making your toes twitch against his shirt. “If anything, it’s getting bigger by the day. You’re going to have a massive load to take when this is over.”

You whine and wriggle on the bed, your core clenching desperately around nothing. “Stop, you’re playing dirty,” you complain. “It’s not fair when you do all the dirty talk looking like that.” You wave your hand in the vague direction of his face.

“Oh yeah, ‘cause you walking around in that skimpy ass towel for an hour after you got out of the shower two nights ago was all above board and clean play,” William drawls, rolling his eyes. He doesn’t seem to realize that his hand is working absently over the fly of his pants, his gaze flickering between your legs and back to your face.

“Yeah,” you shoot back, yanking your ankle away from his grip and rolling away from him, “because I’m just a girl and I can’t be held accountable for my actions.”

You get to your feet, still half draped over the mattress, and wince at the uncomfortably wet feeling between your legs. A cold shower and change of clothes will do wonders for your mood.

William rolls his eyes at you, his hand still moving over his cock, and you’re tempted to let him continue so you can win. But one of the dogs barks out in the living room and William turns to the door, hand falling away from his pants.

“Saved by the dogs,” you mutter, grabbing a pair of jeans out of your drawer to change. It’s time for their pre-game walk and you need the fresh air to cool off.

The walk works to tamp down the worst of your arousal and you manage to make it through the game easily enough. Although every time William throws his body against an opponent, you find your face getting warm and your belly flipping. Damn him.

It doesn’t get easier when you’re tucked together in bed after the game, watching TV to unwind instead of your usual post-game routine of fucking until one or both of you passes out. You miss that routine.

“Ah, fuck, stop that,” William grunts, pushing at your hip to put a little space between your ass and his cock. You wiggle, annoyed that he dislodged his half-hard cock from where it was resting in the seam between your ass cheeks.

“I was comfy,” you whine, rolling over onto your stomach. You tilt your head and look at William with wide, pleading eyes and subtly arch your back a little so your ass lifts in the air.

William swats at your ass gently, a bolt of lust shooting right to your clit. “Yeah, too comfy. You’re playing dirty, älskling,” he says with a good-natured smile. The smile twitches his moustache and you sigh, unable to look away from it. All you can imagine is how it would feel between your legs.

You fold your hands under your cheek and lift your leg to drape your thigh over William’s hip. He lets his hand drag up and down your thigh, keeping his touch chaste even as you can see his cock harden in his boxers, tenting and warping the shape of the plaid fabric.

“What if,” you mumble, “we call a draw. We both finish at the same time?”

The perpetual state of horny is starting to make you feel crazy. That coupled with the wave of exhaustion that’s hitting now that it’s the end of the week, you’re ready to jump William and be done with this stupid challenge.

“Say the word,” William’s jaw clicks as he stifles a yawn. It might be insulting that he’s yawning if he hadn’t played a team high time of twenty two minutes on ice and scored two goals. “I’ll make you come in a second.”

“Ugh, no,” you grumble, pressing your face into your pillow. “I want to win fair and square.”

William’s blunt nails scrape against your skin and he drags your thigh higher up on his hip, opening you up to him. “You’re so competitive, älskling,” he mumbles. “‘S what I love about you.”

His words settle warmly in your stomach and you reach a hand out to hook your fingers in the thick chain around his neck, pulling him closer so you can kiss him softly. His moustache scratches at your upper lip and you trace your tongue over his, deepening the kiss even though you know it’s going to drive you both crazy. William’s hand tightens on your thigh, fingers pressing into your skin hard enough to bruise, and you’re both breathless when you break the kiss.

“When you lose, I want my reward to be sitting on your face,” you mutter, huffing a faint laugh out of your nose. William pinches your thigh and you swat at his hand.

“Fuckin’ tease,” he says, tone full of frustrated affection. He presses a soft kiss to your forehead and drags you closer, wrapping his arms around your back to keep you in place. You won’t fall asleep like this, but it’s always nice to be tucked up close to William, with his heartbeat thumping steadily under your cheek and his fingers tracing nonsense patterns on your skin.

William’s gone early the next morning, with a kiss to your lips and a light spank to your ass, off on a road trip that’ll keep him away from you for nearly a week. He’ll be home again on the twenty-sixth, with just four days left in the month. The temptation is mostly gone with him, your libido getting a reprieve when you aren’t able to look at his face every day and imagine it between your thighs.

He does his best to tempt you, sending voice memos and photos that have your hands drifting below the waist band of your pajama bottoms when you’re in bed, like a horny teenage boy desperate to jack off. You honestly hadn’t realize that you could even be this horny, your previous boyfriends never inspiring this kind of lust or arousal.

Of course, you give just as good as you get, replying to his messages with pictures of your own featuring new lingerie sets in the royal blue of the Leafs’ jersey. You’re particularly proud of one picture that gets William calling you immediately to complain about playing dirty. You can hear the schlicking sound of his hand choking his cock through the phone and you click your tongue.

“I hope you’re not going to come before the end of the month,” you sing-song. “I thought you had better willpower than that?”

“Älskling,” he groans, a strangled noise, “I’m just about ready to end this shit and fuck you until you scream. My dick is so fucking hard, it’s goddamn painful.”

“Forfeit and I’ll take care of you when you get home tomorrow,” you offer, stomach flipping when you hear his hand’s continued movement. William grunts directly in your ear and the noise shoots straight to your clit, making it swell and throb.

His familiar chuckle draws you back to the conversation, “no way. There’s only five days left in the month. I’m not quitting now, I’ll just take another cold as fuck shower.”

You grumble, annoyed that he refuses to forfeit and impressed by his willpower. November thirtieth is going to be a night for the books.

It’s a bad idea, you know, tempting fate and all that with William expected home in a few hours. If he catches you, if you go slightly too far, you’ll lose the challenge and William will know that you were too horny for your better angels to prevail.

But you miss the feeling of his cock wedged tight in your cunt, filling and stretching you to your limits.

Besides, knowing that it’s risky and you have to keep yourself just at the edge of the orgasm is making your heart beat fast in your chest and your cunt get slick.

You’re comfortable on the bed in nothing but one of William’s t-shirts, the faint remnants of his cologne infused in the fabric. With one leg bent and your foot planted on the mattress, you circle your clit with two fingers, relaxing back against the pillows. It’s light pressure, but enough to get the bundle of nerves swollen and wet. Arousal drips from your entrance and you know there’s going to be a puddle under your ass even if you don’t finish, but you spread your legs a little more and cool air hits your flushed skin.

All of your nerve endings are on fire and you haven’t even started with your toy. It’s shorter and narrower than William, but it’ll do the job in a pinch. When he’s away, you use it more often, no reason to use it when you have the real thing. But you’re at the end of your rope and need the feeling of something filling you, even if it’s just silicone.

It’s just a little plastic cockwarming, you rationalize. You’re not actually going to come, just edge yourself into insanity since you’re already half feral with arousal.

The first press of the toy against your entrance takes your breath away and you work your hips a little frantically over the silicone, soaked and panting with each little push. Your clit twitches and throbs, walls fluttering around the toy as you settle it in place with a final nudge.

“Fuck,” you whine, breathless and trying not to clench around the length of silicone. You close your eyes and focus on your breathing, imagining it’s William’s hot, throbbing cock nestled inside of you, imagining that you’re keeping him warm in a reward for your delayed orgasm. Just the feeling of being stretched out is better than you thought it would be, after so long with nothing to satisfy you.

You whine his name involuntarily, carefully fucking yourself with the toy to make sure you don’t get too close to the edge. Your stomach muscles clench and your fingers brush against your clit, sending shockwaves of electricity throughout your body. When it’s too much, you stop, leaving the toy half in your cunt, arousal dripping down the curve of your ass.

The sound of your heavy breathing is filling the room and you’ve got an arm thrown over your face, heat radiating off your body. Your hair feels damp from sweat and you haven’t even gotten to come. It was a mistake, to edge yourself so much because now you’re feeling even more twitchy, frustrated with the pit of your stomach in knots from holding yourself back.

Your legs feel limp, too heavy to get up and you close your eyes. There’s still a couple of hours before William is home and you need to bring yourself back to a baseline so you focus on your breathing, twitching around the silicone half buried in your cunt.

A warm chuckle rouses you, working its way through the fog of sleep cloaking your brain. You hum and stretch, dislodging the toy from between your legs slightly, a spark of electricity racing through your veins.

“William?” You mumble sleepily, cracking one eye open.

The shape of him is fuzzy around the edges, but you catch the upturn in his cheeks that means he’s smiling at you and the way his arms are crossed over his bare chest. You blink again and he comes more into focus, the grey sweats hanging low and loose on his hips, the hair on his chest fluffed in the way you know means he ran his hands over it roughly after his shower.

“Sleeping Beauty’s been naughty, huh?” He chuckles and you wrinkle your nose at him, still half asleep until he leans one knee on the mattress and reaches his hand out to nudge his knuckles against the base of the silicone dick that’s half buried in your cunt.

You’d nearly forgotten about it and yelp when it shifts an inch or two further inside of you and try to snap your legs shut. William’s reflexes are faster and his other hand grabs at your knee, holding your legs wide open. His grin is positively filthy as he takes in the mess between your legs.

“I didn’t come,” you inform him primly, fisting one hand in the duvet cover.

“Oh yeah?” William clicks his tongue. “Just sat here like a good girl and edged yourself?”

It’s clear from his tone that he doesn’t believe you and really, why should he? Especially when you have the evidence between your legs and drying smears of arousal on your inner thighs.

“Mhm,” you hum, wriggling away. William’s grip is tight on you, his fingers dancing around the base of the toy, twisting it ever so slightly. You hiccup a gasp.

“Seems like a silly way to lose the bet,” his voice is low, raspy. Deft fingers continue to twist the toy inside of you, making your clit swell and your stomach clench. “Coming on a plastic cock instead of mine. But, if that’s how you want to lose…”

He trails off and pushes the remaining few inches inside of you, punching a gasp from your lungs and making your back arch off the bed. You shout and scratch at his forearms, shaking your head. “No, no,” you murmur. “Wan’ your cock, William!”

It’s torture, the way he slowly fucks the toy in and out of you, your walls clenching and arousal dripping down the curve of your ass. Your breathing is heavy, chest rising and falling as you get closer and closer to the edge. William murmurs filth to you, leaning over your body. His cock is thick and hard behind his sweats, and you can feel it twitch where it’s pressed against your thigh.

“Beautiful, my beautiful, dirty girl,” he coos, using his free hand to push the fabric of your stolen shirt up your stomach until it’s bunched up under your chin and your breasts are free for him to play with. He leans down and alternates sucking each nipple into his mouth, his moustache scraping against your skin and his tongue circling each nipple until they’re tight and painful.

“Please,” you whimper, bending your leg and opening yourself wider for him. “I’m done, I quit.”

You can’t stand it any more, the lack of orgasms is making you crazy. It’s not worth winning. Not with William’s dirty mouth running in your ear and his cock hard against your thigh.

“Mutual,” he grumbles, shoving his sweats down with one hand and you gasp, nearly relieved, when you feel the velvety soft skin of his shaft against your thigh. The wet head of his cock slicks against your hip and you arch into him. “Stupid challenge anyway.”

In one quick motion, William yanks the silicone toy from your cunt and replaces it with his cock, your indignant whine morphing quickly into a wanton moan. He fills you to the brim, balls slapping against your ass and clit rubbing against the coarse hair at the base of his dick.

“Oh my god,” you gasp, lifting your knees to his sides and meeting him thrust for thrust. It’s not going to take long for either of you to come like this, spiky hot pleasure already building low in your stomach.

“Fuck, fuck I love this pussy,” William growls, burying his face in the valley between your breasts. The scrape of his moustache and stubble are going to leave makes all over your skin, but you can’t wait. “So goddamn tight and wet, squeezing my cock. Fuck, älskling, so fucking good. Gonna fill you up, gonna make you feel so good.”

You’re not even sure if you’re saying actual words around the noises you’re making as the head of William’s cock batters your g-spot, thickening and swelling inside the tight grip of your cunt. You wail when he presses his thumb against your sore, swollen clit and kick a foot against his back, making him grunt.

He latches his lips around one of your nipples, tonguing at it until it’s stiff and puffy. You arch your back, pressing up into his mouth and the coil of pleasure tightens in your stomach.

“Please, please, oh my god, please William,” you chant, scratching at his back and moaning when his hand splays over your stomach and presses down, the pressure making you see stars behind your eyelids.

“Gonna come, älskling, almost there,” he mumbles, adjusting his angle to hit even deeper inside of you. “Gonna come together, yeah? Me and you, right now, go ahead. Come on, prinsessa, come all over my cock.”

William rubs circles around your clit and you can feel his cock twitch and thicken, bumping up against your g-spot to finally send you over the edge. Your stomach clenches and starbursts dance behind your eyes as the force of your orgasm hits. Above you, William groans and his hips stutter, coming at the same time you do. He fills you, his hips pumping and his fingers working at your clit so you’re both shaking and panting heavily. Beads of sweat roll down his temples and you can feel the sheen of sweat all over your skin.

Your legs tremble with the aftershocks of your orgasm and William finally finishes emptying inside of you, more than he ever has before and putting your IUD to work.

He collapses on top of you, forcing the last little bit of air left in your lungs out in a harsh exhale. You huff a laugh, running your fingertips over the sweaty, muscled planes of his back, enjoying it when he laughs as you tickle at the spaces between his ribs.

Your legs are locked around his back, his cock still hard inside of you and you rock slightly under him, fully relishing in the feeling. His chest hair is soft against your skin and you try to shimmy around so you can keep feeling it rub against you.

“We’re never going this long without sex again,” William mutters into the crook of your neck. His cock twitches inside of you and he flexes his hips. You can feel the warmth of his come when it’s pushed out of you, making you shiver a bit.

“Stupid challenge,” you agree. The fabric of your shirt is still bunched up under your neck and it’s choking you a bit, but you’re too sated to move. William works his hand between your bodies and toys with your breast, scraping his thumb nail over the sensitive point of your nipple. You clench around him and he grunts. Your clit still feels swollen and sore and need builds up low in your stomach. “I need another, Will.”

His mouth is lazily sucking a mark against your collarbone and he releases you with a wet pop. Propping himself up on one elbow, William grins down at you with a hungry look in his eyes. His hair is messy and damp with sweat. “We need to make up for lost time,” he replies, sweeping his hand up and down your stomach, brushing his fingers close to your clit to see if he can get your hips to jerk. A twitch of his hips has his half-hard cock slipping in and out of your slick cunt, an almost obscenely wet sound filling the room.

You nod, taking your fingers through his chest hair and down through the trail below his belly button. His stomach muscles jump under your touch.

“I think we can be conservative and say I need at least twenty more,” you grin, clenching around him to watch his face twist up in an expression of pleasure. “When you take into account the travel days and whatnot.”

His laughter is bright and loud and he tweaks your nipple. “Greedy,” he murmurs. “Let’s start with three and see if we can beat that record first.”

You let your legs fall to the side and open yourself up for him. Grinning wickedly, you reply, “do your best, Mr. Nylander.”

An hour and a half later, after you’ve gotten two more orgasms and William washed your hair for you in the shower, you’re curled up against his chest with an icy blue Gatorade poured into your fancy Anthropologie glass.

Your legs are shaky, but you’ve never been more content in your life.

“I would say I’m sorry that you lost the team’s challenge, but,” you shrug, sipping at the drink, “I’m really not.”

“Eh, worth it,” William replies. “Only a couple guys left anyway. Hell, even Kniesy lost back in week two and he’s the idiot that suggested it.”

You gasp, shooting up in the bed and nearly spilling your Gatorade. “I’ve been in the orgasm desert because of Matt and he didn’t even have the decency to WIN the challenge?”

William laughs and shrugs. “Yeah, he kind of sucked at it,” he replies, tugging you back against his side, “I think it’s just Mitchy, Domes, Tanev, and Woller left.”

“Wait,” you frown. “What was the prize for winning?”

“We each kicked in one-fifty,” William rolls his up to the ceiling and squints while he does the math. “So, three k? Plus winner gets a steak dinner from Reavo since he was the first to cave and we all have to kick in for the winner’s golf club membership for a year.”

“Jesus,” you roll your eyes. “What is it with you guys and the steak dinners? And if I had known that these were the prizes, I would’ve held out another four days! I thought it was just like a pride thing.”

William laughs again and you let him pull you onto his lap, settling right over his cock. “Älskling, none of us would do this shit if it were just pride on the line,” he says seriously, resting his hands on your hips and letting his fingers dip below the waistband of your sweats.

You roll your eyes again and pout, “obviously cold hard cash, steak, and a golf membership were the only three things that could get you idiots to keep it in your pants.”

“None of those things are holding me back now,” William teases, leaning in to pepper kisses against your jaw. “Want me to take it out of my pants?”

The scratch of his facial hair feels good against your skin and you know you’re going to be beyond marked up tomorrow, but you angle your head to the side anyway to give him better access.

You hum, taking stock of the pleasant soreness between your legs and the flicker of arousal pooling low in your stomach. He kisses down the column of your neck, nipping gently at the jut of your collarbone. William’s hips rock under you and you can feel him grow hard and press into your core.

“I think I could go for a fourth,” you grin, gasping when he trusts his hips up into yours.

“Steak dinner is overrated anyway,” William replies, before taking your cup and putting it on the bedside table so he can manhandle you onto your back. “I’ve got something better to eat.”

[just4koo]

Hii! How are you doing? Can you please write hurt to comfort with Jungkook, when he walks out to cool off after an argument and Y/n thinks he left her? :)

i'm doing well, i hope you are too! i kinda got carried away on this request and wrote a lott of angst haha... (it hurt my heart)

never go to sleep angry - jjk.

summary: one of the most important rules of your relationship was to never go to sleep angry. when the rule was ignored, it led to an argument and a huge misunderstanding.

word count: 5.0k

genre/warnings: established relationship, a lot of angst, comfort, misinterpreting words, argument between them, y/n feels really shitty, mutual confusion, cute ending though

-- ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ --

There was one rule that you and Jungkook always had set up in your relationship. It was one of the reasons that you two were able to stay together for so long. How you had gotten through so many tough times, arguments, and disagreements. One thing that you two agreed on for the past 4 years you had been together.

Never go to sleep angry.

Even though it seems like something that may not matter too much, it had always worked for you two. Being in a relationship meant disagreeing on things. Relationships could be hard, but loving Jungkook was always easy. He made all of the hard times worth it. There weren't many things the two of you fully argued about because of this one rule. Communication was key in your relationship, and the two of you were always able to deescalate the situations so they wouldn't blow up.

It was the rule until now, it seemed.

If you had realized the way that you were making your boyfriend feel, it could've turned out so different. He hadn't spoke up about it because he knew how stressed you were. Later hours at a job meant that you didn't have time for the things you used to. After covid wiped through the world, your company had taken a huge hit. Budget cuts meant people being laid off of their jobs, and the ones that weren't fired got their work loads doubled, or even tripled.

Your job was a work at home -- returning late from work hadn't been the problem. Even if it was, Jungkook knew. He understood how consuming work could be, but he had been working crazy hours everyday since he was 13. He knew how his schedule worked and how to arrange things to make time between the two of you. This workload was new for you, and so he didn't get angry when you were stuck to your laptop for hours after your scheduled workday ended.

It was more of the way you dealt with the stress that got to him. Being stressed meant that you had been getting more irritable. If he tried talking to you when you were working, he was met with a dry "mhm" or a short look that told him you weren't interested. If he tried actually getting your attention, he would just receive snippy answers. He was trying to be understanding, but that also meant ignoring the most important rule of your relationship. Just like you tried to prevent, everything blew up.

"I've just been stressed out, Jungkook! I thought you said you understood!" You shouted at your boyfriend. What had turned into a simple conversation about him asking if you could spend your free day going on a date for the first time in a couple months had turned into this argument. You wanted to take the single free day off to rest your fingers from typing until your fingers locked up, he finally felt the festering irritation out, and it wasn't turning out pretty.

"I do understand, _____! If anyone does, it's me! You've been thinking about yourself this whole time! I try to be nice, I try to be understanding. You just shut me out! Just because you're stressed out or having a hard time doesn't mean you're allowed to treat me this shitty!" You were almost speechless as you listened to him vent to you about his feelings. You had been trying to justify yourself, but the longer this argument continued, the more you realized how you had been treating him.

"I tried so hard. You only try to push me away now. I've always had draining schedules, but I never took it out on you. I knew that this whole thing was new for you, I gave you time to adjust. But I just can't stand this anymore!" Jungkook groaned, putting his face in his hands. You had become ignorant about how your boyfriend felt, trying too hard to explain why you were treating him this way. He had enough of this. You were angry right now, and anger led to you being irrational.

He knew that he needed to get out of the house before the two of you said anything else you regretted. He didn't want the two of you to be blinded by anger and the best thing to do was to cool down. He tried to take in a deep breath as he turned around to walk towards the coat rack. You watched in disbelief as he started to put on his coat and lace up his shoes. Was he really walking out on the argument?

"Are you serious right now!? You started this argument, and now you're just trying to walk away from it?!" You accused him, crossing your arms over your chest. All Jungkook did was shake his head to himself. If you wanted to be petty, then it was only fair for him to do the same. He wasn't going to let himself be a personal punching bag anymore.

"You're right, I am walking away. I can't do this, ______. Get your shit together." You only scoffed at what he said, rolling your eyes in annoyance. Too consumed by your own pride, you didn't say anything as he left, didn't try to stop him. If he wanted to walk out, that was his problem. You felt like you had an excuse for the way you had been. You hadn't even realized how badly your treatment had gotten.

You spent most of the day grouchy now, too sidetracked to focus on your work. The argument happened pretty early in the afternoon, meaning you got most of the day to think about it. You knew he was going to come back before it was bedtime, or at least you thought you knew. Because it had been the most important rule, right? So you spent the whole day trying to formulate an argument to use against him.

The longer you thought about it though, the more uneasy you felt about the situation. It was growing later and later with every passing minute, and there was no sign of your boyfriend. No text or call, no jingling of his keys in the doorway, not even a text from his brother asking what had happened. Him and his brother were very close. He was usually the person Jungkook went to whenever you got into arguments, and his brother had even helped the two of you. He always texted when Jungkook showed up at his place, but there were no notifications.

You had already taken your nightly shower and was sitting on the bed in silence, huffing to yourself. He was being too petty, you thought. Why couldn't he just understand that you were busy? He was one of the busiest people in the world after all, he should be understanding that you didn't have hours of the day to dedicate to your relationship anymore like you used to be able to do.

While stuck in your thoughts, you sort of froze. He was one of the busiest people in the world. He had countless shoots for music videos, songs, magazines, variety shows. Your boyfriend was a member of one of the most renowned music bands. He spent almost everyday practicing and even spent nights in the studio trying to perfect things. If anyone knew what it was like to live a busy life, it would be him. You'd seen how busy his schedules, how full they were. He had something almost everyday. 

Yet he still made time for you.

You recounted all the times he had come home tired from work or exhausted from a performance. The days he returned with a frustrated or irritated expression from something that happened at work. Not one of those times did he ever take it out on you. He never let things that happened outside your relationship affect how he treated you. Before covid happened, he would be gone even more. Even though he had more time after the pandemic, things were getting back into motion.

He shared how overwhelmed he had been with everything. 2020 had been a break that he didn't even know he needed. He loved his fans, loved his band. But even then, he was still human. Not a machine that could work and be pushed through his schedules. When everything shut down, it meant him also being locked in his house and quarantined from everything. Now that there had been vaccinations and the urgency of the virus had died down, he was thrown right back into everything he had gotten used to being away from.

He had an album releasing soon, and it was taking a lot from him to get back into the flow of things. But he never blamed you for it. Before your job had you working crazy hours, he never got angry whenever you called him during his practices or came to surprise him at his workplace, taking away from his rehearsal time. Because it wasn't your fault for wanting to spend time with him or see him.

A pit was beginning to form in your stomach as you stared down at your lap. All of those times where you interrupted him from his work, you never realized how frustrating it could feel. Not until now when you were also working hard to produce quality work. You thought about all of the times he might've been irritated because he was trying to practice or so close to getting something right, and you came to stop him.

Yet every time he saw you, he was so excited and treated you with love. Even if you were distracting him from his job of performing in front of millions, even billions. Yet you had been doing the exact opposite. You were blaming him for wanting to spend time with you. Mad at him just because he wanted some time with his girlfriend. Fuck, you had been an idiot. Created an unnecessary argument just because you forgot to appreciate him.

You immediately reached for your phone, pressing the contact at the top of your favorites list. It was late now, almost 9pm, and you were worried. You wanted to at least see when he was coming home so you could be sure to stay up until then. You wanted to follow through with your number one rule and wait for him. You wanted to be waiting by the door when he came through to apologize to him.

Frowning when the call immediately went to voicemail, you were almost sent into a stupor. He always answered your calls, no matter what. It was strange for the phone go straight into voicemail, because in his car he always had a phone charger. One quick glance out of your window was the confirmation you needed, he did take his car. 

He had his charger with him. Did that mean he was ignoring your calls then? The phone didn't even ring before it went to voicemail, quicker than any person could decline a call. You weren't someone who worried too easily, but whenever something didn't feel right it made you extremely anxious. This was one of those moments right now. There was something off about the whole situation and you didn't know.

You tried his phone at least two more times, and the same thing happened. Not even a single ring. Every time you were met with the voicemail the two of you had recorded together a couple years ago, the giggling one you recorded with him saying that if he wasn't answering the call, he was probably too busy with his beautiful girlfriend. Your heart hurt when you heard that. How much things had changed scared you.

You went to text him, sending a few messages asking if he was okay. You stared down at the notice that the message had failed to send, the frown in your face getting even deeper. You went back into your contacts app, calling his brother instead. To your short relief, the phone was ringing. But after a few long rings, the phone also went to voicemail. You felt the urge to throw your phone at the wall but instead just cursed under your breath.

You weren't even sure how slow or fast the time was passing right now. All you could do was blankly stare down at your phone, hoping for a call. Had the argument been that bad? Was he really not going to come home after 4 years of sticking to that rule? The clock was nearing 12AM now and you were fidgeting nervously. Going over the argument over and over in your mind again. One particular line suddenly caught your attention.

"You're right, I am walking away. I can't do this, ______."

Your heart practically dropped as you remembered that. It was something you overlooked in the moment because you had been so angry with him, so consumed by your own pride. Those were words he never said to you. Sure, he had left the house a few times to cool down when arguments got too heated. But he would always leave with a reminder that he would be back before dark, that he was going to his brother's house.

Did you really ruin the relationship? All because you had been too focused on your work? You could feel your heart beginning to pound in your chest. He told you that he was walking away from you, that he wasn't going to do this anymore. This, as in the relationship? And you didn't do a thing to stop him when he left. You were so stupid.

Now all of the worst thoughts were going through your mind. Any rationality was leaving you. The calls weren't going through still. Had he blocked you? That was the only conclusion you were believing at the moment. You had been treating him like he was a nuisance for the past few months even though he had always been nothing but loving towards you no matter how crazy his schedule became.

You had been ignoring him whenever he wanted to do something with you or tell him something that had happened during his work. You had taken the small amount of free days you got and spent time relaxing and focusing on yourself rather than spending time with the person you loved more than anything, the person who loved you more than anything. You forgot that a relationship was about loving someone even through hard times.

Any hope you had for yourself was draining as you dug yourself into an even deeper hole. You were someone who worried a lot, but it was something that Jungkook had always helped you work out. Without him here, the problems were coming right back. Especially because this was about him. You had been an asshole of a girlfriend and he had enough. He left, walked out, and blocked you.

All of the years in your relationship felt like they were coming back at once. All of the years you spent together. Loving each other unconditionally. You comforting him whenever he was anxious and insecure, him surprising you with date nights or coming home from trips early to spend time with you. Spending his free days surprising him with things like his favorite dinner. You guys argued as well, but it was what happened in any healthy relationship.

This didn't feel like an argument anymore. Usually they would be resolved, this just felt like the end. You were a shitty girlfriend and he could probably find anyone much better. There were so many girls out there who admired him like a god, who would treat him as such. Girls who didn't take who they got for granted until it was too late and they had already gone.

He left. He was really gone. Those words kept repeating in your mind, and yet it felt like everything was a dream. It felt like you couldn't breathe at the moment. You were the reason this happened. The panic attack was coming quicker than you could stop it, and it was hitting at full force. The clock read 2AM by now. You had been sitting in the bed since 8PM waiting for him to walk into the bedroom. He wasn't coming.

Your whole world was crashing in on itself. Tears were welling up inside your eyes as you laid back on the bed, not feeling enough strength to hold yourself upright again. As you laid down on the bed, you were greeted with the smell of your boyfriend. Was he even your boyfriend anymore? His scent flooded your senses, the familiar smell you'd grown to love so much over the years. It was your breaking point.

With shaky hands you grabbed the blanket, hugging it to your body as the sobs started. Your whole body was trembling with them, curled up as you tried desperately to grasp onto what you felt like was the last of your relationship. The only thought in your mind was that all of this was your fault. Like the ignorant person you were, you lost the most important person to you.

You felt like you would do anything to fix this. To just get one more chance to see him. You would beg at your knees if you needed. Anything to promise him that you would be a better girlfriend to him. But he wasn't going to give you another chance. You only realized now how insignificant your work seemed when he left you. You'd been too distracted by your work that you forgot about the one thing that was more important.

You wanted to do so many things. Scream, throw your laptop at the wall, go out and look for him. But you just couldn't. The realization you felt, the pit in your stomach, the overwhelming sense of guilt. It was all too much for you to move a single limb. You felt overly nauseous, like you would throw up if you moved. 

You weren't someone that was completely dependent on Jungkook. You didn't need him to go about your day correctly. You could spend time apart with him. It was something you actually got used to with him going off on tours. But at this moment, it felt like your world was caving in on you. He was the one person who was always there for you no matter what, and now you had to come to terms with that changing. You sobbed even harder as you realized that.

This was the state that Jungkook saw as he walked back into the house. He knew that he had been gone for a long time, well over 12 hours. He had been cooling off by himself. He didn't even know how long he'd been out. His brother had been gone on vacation, meaning that he didn't have a place to go to. He didn't want to bother his bandmates with his relationship problems, so he could only think of one thing.

He spent the whole day hiking. One of the things he had done as a child growing up in Busan, it was something that helped him clear his mind. He drove a couple hours to the mountains and spend a big majority of the day in the nature. He had no service when he was out there, which helped him refrain from calling you before he had the opportunity to sort out his thoughts.

It had been well past nightfall when he got back down the mountain and he hadn't even realized how late it was. Not until he gained his signal back after he spent even longer at the small village by the bottom of the mountain. He had spent quite a while speaking to some of the elders that he lost track of time and saw it was nearly midnight. He had quickly said goodbye and promised to visit again before leaving.

It was only when he had gotten back onto the main highway that his signal returned and the notifications flooded his phone. He frowned as he looked at all of the missed calls from you, the worried texts. Your most recent one was the most concerning one, one that you had sent just twenty minutes prior.

"i'm sorry i was so shitty. i can pack all of my stuff and be gone in the morning."

He was confused as to why you were texting him that. Why were you packing your stuff and talking about leaving? He tried to call you multiple times, but none of the calls picked up. His own panic was building up as he stepped on the gas, speeding more than he would've liked to admit. It was a two hour drive back and right now he was cursing himself for picking a place so far away. 

You usually never called or texted him when you were separated to cool down from arguments, so he knew that something was different this time. He couldn't think of what was different this time, what had happened that led to you saying that you would be packing up to leave. Was he too harsh on you? Should he have just pushed the problem off even more?

You didn't even register the sound of the door opening, too consumed by your grief. Jungkook had rushed into the apartment, looking around for you. He checked the living room first, and then went straight to the bedroom. He stopped completely in his tracks when he saw you. Curled up on the bed into a ball, clutching your shared blanket to your chest, shaking with quiet and violent sobs.

For a few moments he could do nothing but stare at the sight. Wondering if he really had been too hard on you. He didn't think that his words were too harsh when he was saying them. He had only been speaking his feelings. But as he watched you right now, he felt his heart shattering. He never wanted this. He regretted ever saying anything.

You jumped as you felt a hand lay on your shoulder. Your eyes were swollen from all of your crying, you could barely make out the sight of Jungkook knelt down beside you, frowning with immense concern. You almost couldn't believe that he was right in front of you. Your sobs died down a bit as the two of you stared. You were the first one to break down.

"J-Jungkook, I'm so sorry. I was too consumed with my work and I didn't realize how shitty I treated you. You were right. You've always been so busy with work and you never treated me the way I treated you. I was so stressed by my job that I let it out on you. I was such a bad girlfriend, and I understand why you don't want to be with me anymore. I'm just sorry I didn't notice how bad I was." The way you spoke with small sniffles almost broke his heart and distracted him from what you said.

After he processed his words, his frown only deepened. Why were you speaking to him like this? Saying that you would pack all of your stuff, that he didn't want to be with you anymore, that you were a bad girlfriend? All of his anger was completely gone now and at the moment he just felt extremely confused along with distraught from how destroyed you looked.

"Baby, what are you talking about? Why are you saying all of this?" Jungkook asked with pure bewilderment in his tone. This made you look back at him with an equally confused expression. You weren't expecting this response from him. He seemed like he genuinely didn't know what you were talking about and it made you question everything.

"But.. you blocked me. You said that.. that you couldn't do this and were walking away?" You questioned, your voice cracking with how weak it was after sobbing. Jungkook tilted his head a bit as he tried to recall when he ever said that. After going through the argument in his head, the realization hit him. His eyes widened as he recalled what he said in the heat of the moment. He hadn't clarified what he meant and you had been left alone for however many hours thinking that he had ended the relationship.

"______, I know how those words seemed, but that's not at all what I meant. I was saying that I couldn't do the argument, not the relationship. I would never end things off. I only said I was walking away so I could cool off." Jungkook explained as he pinched the bridge of his nose. Not at all irritated by you, but instead angry at himself. He had only said what he was feeling in the heat of the moment and left.

"What about your phone..? None of my calls went through." You asked him, your voice still full with hurt and doubt. He felt terrible for even making you think for a moment that he wanted to end the relationship. Even though he had been pissed off, he would never end the relationship like that in the heat of the moment. Even enraged he knew it would be the worst mistake he would ever make.

"I went to the mountains to hike and get everything off my mind. My brother is on vacation so that's why I didn't go to him. The place I went had no service and so none of the calls or texts could've gotten through." He told you, and your eyes slightly widened. He was really telling the truth? He didn't want to break up with you? At this point you just felt like you had fallen asleep and this was all a dream.

To confirm this was real, you couldn't hold yourself back anymore and reached out for him, and he wasted no time. He sat down on the bed next to you and pulled you right into his arms. Your body froze as you felt his familiar warmth, smelled his scent with the addition of the smell of nature he'd been around all day. This was real. He wasn't leaving you.

The tears instantly started falling from your eyes, but it was different this time. It was relief. You spent so long crying because you thought he had broken up with you, but it all ended up being a misunderstanding. He wasn't leaving you and you had nothing to worry about. In the past 12 hours it felt like your life had completely ended, but it hadn't.

Jungkook held you closely to him, his fingers carding through your slightly tangled hair while his other hand rubbed small circles into your back. He rested his head on the top of yours, knowing that it was better for you to just get all of your feelings out. Even though nothing made him feel worse than knowing he was the reason that you were crying like this, it was better for you to just let it all out so it didn't bottle up. He had been doing that for the past few months and it turned out like this.

You didn't know how long you had been laying like that in his arms, but when you were finally able to stop crying, you noticed the beginnings of light peeking through the windows. The whole time Jungkook was there for you, whispering sweet things to help you calm down. How much he loved you, how he wasn't going to leave you, that he wasn't angry with you. Anything he could think of to help you calm down.

When you finally had a level enough mind to fully process everything, you felt so much relief. But you still felt the same guilt from before. You were the one that disregarded what he felt and now he was comforting you after an argument that was your fault. You needed to say something to him, to apologize and promise that you would be better. There was no way that you were ever going to let your work consume you again.

"I know I already said this, but I want to say that I'm so sorry. I was so stressed out with my new hours that I got angry and irritated whenever you just wanted to spend time with me. I never should've done that and I realize now how much I took you for granted. You've always made the time for me and I should've done the same for you. I know now how wrong and unfair I was being to you, and I want to be better." You said to him, your voice filled with regret.

Jungkook smiled lightly when he heard your apology. There was no longer any anger in his eyes. No resentment. To him, that was all in the past now. He could hear the sincerity in every word you said. After all, this was the reason that he had started dating you. You were so sweet and considerate towards others. You just needed to realize what you were doing wrong. You were distracted and didn't know you were bring rude.

"It's okay, my love. I know how stressful it's been for you and I'm not angry anymore. I understand how you feel and I accept your apology. I know you didn't realize how you were treating me." Jungkook replied, putting his fingers under your chin so he could tilt your head up to look at him. Even with your red, puffy eyes and runny nose you were so beautiful to him. He gently kissed the tip of your nose before resting his forehead against yours.

"I love you so much. Thank you for always being the best." You mumbled, closing your eyes as you took the time to let yourself bask in the moment. Letting go of all doubts that you felt previously. There was no reason to dwell on this argument, because you knew that you wouldn't make this mistake anymore going on.

"I love you too, always. No matter what happens." Jungkook replied with a bit of reassurance in his tone. You smiled as he said those words to you, leaning forward to close the small gap between the two of you. You were fully calmed down as your lips met and any thoughts that you had melted away in the moment. Everything was okay in this moment. 

Even though this argument had been rough, the two of you had stuck to your most important rule. The two of you went to sleep shortly afterwards, no more feelings of anger or resentment. You would never go to bed angry anymore, realizing just how important that rule was.

[actualbird]

how kinky do you think the nxx is?

short answer: THEY'RE ON VARYING DEGREES OF KINKINESS, IN MY HUMBLE OPINION

long answer: okay bear with me but ive made a chart

preempting my explanation first with the disclaimer that everything i will say are just my Own thoughts and my Own personal headcanons, feel free to disagree etc etc etc

but like yes. as you can see in the chart---which ive helpfully labeled the x axis, the y axis, and the respective Zones and their definitions---ive plotted out where i think each nxx boy lands

artem: this man is vanilla as hell yet still inexplicably worried and embarrassed about it. i think the farthest he'll go, kink wise, is maybe some simple bondage with ties maybe, but past that, hes not particularly interested in anything harder. if he were with a partner who was kinkier, he would definitely be open to trying things out, but his placement on the chart reflects more of his innate tastes.

luke: I WOULD SAY that luke is mid level kinky and boy he is so scared he'll be fOUND OUT, HES SO ASHAMED, HE THINKS HE SHOULD GO TO SUPER HELL FOR HIS DESIRES. he definitely needs somebody to Talk Him Through Some Stuff and how it's Okay to have kinks before he actually fesses to the kinks he's got: dom/sub (where he has the desire to be either or, depending on his mood), praise kink, bondage, pet play (he just wants to be a good dog...), roleplaying, rough sex, orgasm denial & control. he would be incredibly hesitant to try things out, not because he isnt into them, but because hes scared his desires are Too Much. he'll need to be soothed and reassured first that everything is Alright before he decides to indulge in his kinks.

marius: he's on around the same level kinkiness as luke is, but the main difference is that hes Completely Unapologetic about it. shame? whos that? the whole POINT about sex is that it should feel good so hes not gonna let silly little things like self consciousness stop him!! off the top of my head, i think marius' main kinks are: dom/sub, cumplay, exhibitionism/semi-public sex, Inventive Pax-brand Sex Toys, roleplaying, videotaping/photographing, bondage, aaaaand okay thats all i can think of for now. anyhoo, hes open about his kinks and very enthusiastic to try out whichever ones his partner would be game for.

vyn: HARDCORE KINK AND NOT SORRY ABOUT IT, BABYYYYYYY!!! im not very well versed in Vyn and his Vynisms, so i wont go into much detail here, but hes into a A Bunch Of Freaky Shit and would definitely want to introduce them into his relationship, once they're at a certain comfort level. also im pretty sure hes got a sex dungeon in the basement of his pristine victorian mansion, and i cant be convinced otherwise. god bless

[flightyalrighty]

Not trying to be rude, but, despite his rude speech.

the scrappered person, unfortunately, has a point.

tails has many escape routes, he is smart, he can fly, and You didn’t exactly include a “child death” content warning.

plus, sonic could think tails is dead(many ways how, such as a bloodbath when he returns, but doesn’t investigate past an orange fox dead), but he isn’t, which resolves the issue, and I can rewrite anything if you want me to, so you don’t have to worry about improving the plot!

plus, you could suggest to the audience he died without showing it explicitly(or even faking it)

yeah, and tails’ grief on discovering sonic is this beast now, and maybe even having extreme thoughts, now THAT’S something I’d want to see, rather than killing him off the bat!

feel free to say no, it is your story, but I’m supporting the “tails is alive and has grief” movement, and can rewrite easily if you want me to.

(yes, I’m that bored I’d rewrite this willingly, and quickly, )

ps, pretend to disagree or actually disagree, don’t give anything away if you do decide on the plot twist, but my Discord is here if you want me to rewrite. Trust me though; I won’t let you down:

https://discord.gg/v7Bu6f2B

Don’t worry, I won’t press too hard for this and will shut up if requested, but I do prefer that we still chat on discord, even if you disagree anyways(I like talking, and you definitely have a lot to chat about), and we both(that means I will also)respectfully argue.

this is not sent out of spite, I just believe that your comic would greatly benefit from survivors of the parasite attacks, such as sonic’s closest friend. And it would also make a good plot twist.

To everyone reading this: do NOT message this person on discord to harass them.

Now to answer: What the fuck? Lmao?

Anyway since "Child Endangerment" + "Major Character Death" isn't too much of a red flag, fine, I've added "Child Death" to the warnings page.

You have absolutely no idea what my intent is with the story, so how can you possibly offer to rewrite it? You're so hellbent on making sure that Tails lives that you fail to understand the many times I have made clear that this death is the single most important event in the story. It is THE event, which is extremely important not just to Infested, but it's SEQUEL as well.

And you want to change that? You wanna change that so so so bad that you're offering to "quickly" rewrite it? I am not messaging you on Discord. I am not going to waste my time sitting you down and spoiling the entirety of Infested (and it's sequel) to you just so that you, personally, can have a clear understanding of my exact intent, and the importance of Tails's death. Get a fucking grip.

[a-araiguma-a]

He loved only her

No one in particular, just an elf from the universe of J. R. R. Tolkien. Elf x f!reader

In the ancient forests of Middle-earth, where tall trees concealed the sky, there lived an elf. His people were as eternal as the forest itself, and their hearts were rarely clouded by mortal emotions. But one day, he met a woman—a simple, human, mortal woman. There was something about her that made his heart beat faster: her beauty, which could neither be captured by the finest poets nor sung by the greatest musicians, her mind, so unlike that of other humans, filled with thoughts, ideas, and philosophy, or her eyes, in which one could drown if they gazed too long. It was something he could not understand, but this only made his love grow deeper.

"Cormamin lindua ele lle"—he always wanted to tell her that his heart sang at the sight of her, but it was not the right time, not yet. From the moment of their first meeting, he sought her out and waited for her in this forest every day when the sun's rays gently touched the ground, filtering through the thick foliage.

She told him about her world, about the brief lives of humans, about how they lived and died, dreaming and suffering.

"Lle naa vanima,"—he blurted out one day, not even realizing when he had said it: "You are beautiful." "What did you say?"—fortunately, she didn't understand his words, and that saddened him. It was not enough for him to meet her in the evenings; he longed to extend their conversations, to stretch them out for an hour, two, or forever. He listened to her stories, captivated not by the words themselves but by how her voice filled the emptiness in his soul. Without her, he would never have known the need to fill it.

"Tua amin!"—But did he need help? Did he need to be saved from her? Honestly, no, he was ready to drown in her eyes, ready to die if only to meet her once more. He was ready for anything...

But the Elf did not know how to tell her about his feelings. He understood that the time she gave him was limited, and each moment with her was precious. But how could he explain this? How could he tell her that his heart, which had always been eternal and free, now belonged to her? "The more you love someone," he thought, "the harder it is to tell them." "Nin lithiach, Meleth nín"—she truly enchanted him every time he saw her, even in his thoughts. His beloved. "Guren mil gaim lín"—his heart was in her hands—"Tessa sina ten’ amin"—he asked her to keep it, but in truth, she was free to do with it as she wished, as long as it was her.

And she accepted him. She had loved him too, ever since then, but she understood that it would be difficult for him; her life was short, and what would happen afterward, when she left him? She was ready to weep over such a truth. "Amin uuma malia, Arwen en amin"—it didn't concern him. Being with her and having her even for a moment was already enough. The chance to call her his—that was his happiness. His Lady, who ruled his heart and mind.

As the years passed, she began to talk more often about parting, though it pained the elf to hear it, he couldn't disagree. "When the day comes that we part," she said quietly, "if my last words aren't 'Amin mela lle,' you'll know it's because I didn't have time." In those moments, he remained silent, lost in thought, unable to find the words to express that his love knew no bounds of time. "Meleth e-guilen, my love is selfish. I can't breathe without you,"—she was the love of his life. How could she speak of them parting, not seeing her, not inhaling her scent in the mornings, no more afternoon conversations about books, about how Ellen had messed up her work again, no more seeing her smile, or those gentle eyes full of love for him... "Aa’ lasser en he coia orn n' omenta gurtha!"—Let the leaves of her tree of life never wither, he prayed. Just a little longer, he wasn't ready yet, but how could he stretch this time?

But when the fog enveloped the forest, and the cold wind brought with it a premonition of farewell, the elf finally spoke what was in his heart. He took her hand and said: "I was destined to live a thousand years, and I belong only to you for all those years. If we were to live a thousand lives, I would want you to be mine in every one of them." She looked at him, and a tear glistened in her eye. She knew their time was running out, but these were the words she believed in more than anything in the world.

For the elf's love was as eternal as the forest itself, and he continued to love, despite their parting, carrying his feelings for her through the years and ages of his life.

"Cormamin niuve tenna’ ta elea lle au’"—My heart will wait until it sees you again. "Le me ithon anuir"—I will love you forever. "Quel kaima"—Rest well.