#also I think my neighbors probably heard me screaming

[luna-the-cretar]

Critical Role Campaign 2 spoilers if anyone cares

Viridian, after being healed by Caduceus: My name is actually Vilya, and I’m from Tal’dorei

Me: huh, that name sounds familiar. Whatever, probably some random NPC or whatever—

Marisha: isn’t that the name of Keyleth’s mom?

Me:

Me: *dinosaur screech that roughly translates to “no fucking way”*

[infiniteglitterfall]

know someone who enjoys horror stories? share this one! it's true!

hahahahahahahahahaha aarrggghhhhhhhhhh 3,000,000 deaths due to COVID-19 last year. Globally. Three million. Case rates higher than 90% of the rest of the pandemic. The reason people are still worried about COVID is because it has a way of quietly fucking up your body. And the risk is cumulative.

I'm going to say that again: the risk is cumulative.

It's not just that a lot of people get bad long-term effects from it. One in seven or so? Enough that it's kind of the Russian Roulette of diseases. It's also that the more times you get it, the higher that risk becomes. Like if each time you survived Russian Roulette, the empty chamber was removed from the gun entirely. The worst part is that, psychologically, we have the absolute opposite reaction. If we survive something with no ill effects, we assume it's pretty safe. It is really, really hard to override that sense of, "Ok, well, I got it and now I probably have a lot of immunity and also it wasn't that bad." It is not a respiratory disease. Airborne, yes. Respiratory disease, no: not a cold, not a flu, not RSV.

Like measles (or maybe chickenpox?), it starts with respiratory symptoms. And then it moves to other parts of your body. It seems to target the lungs, the digestive system, the heart, and the brain the most.

It also hits the immune system really hard - a lot of people are suddenly more susceptible to completely unrelated viruses. People get brain fog, migraines, forget things they used to know.

(I really, really hate that it can cross the blood-brain barrier. NOTHING SHOULD EVER CROSS THE BLOOD-BRAIN BARRIER IT IS THERE FOR A REASON.) Anecdotal examples of this shit are horrifying. I've seen people talk about coworkers who've had COVID five or more times, and now their work... just often doesn't make sense? They send emails that say things like, "Sorry, I didn't mean Los Angeles, I meant Los Angeles."

Or they insist they've never heard of some project that they were actually in charge of a year or two before.

Or their work is just kind of falling apart, and they don't seem to be aware of it.

People talk about how they don't want to get the person in trouble, so their team just works around it. Or they describe neighbors and relatives who had COVID repeatedly, were nearly hospitalized, talked about how incredibly sick they felt at the time... and now swear they've only had it once and it wasn't bad, they barely even noticed it.

(As someone who lived with severe dissociation for most of my life, this is a genuinely terrifying idea to me. I've already spent my whole life being like, "but what if I told them that already? but what if I did do that? what if that did happen to me and I just don't remember?") One of its known effects in the brain is to increase impulsivity and risk-taking, which is real fucking convenient honestly. What a fantastic fucking mutation. So happy for it on that one. Yes, please make it seem less important to wear a mask and get vaccinated. I'm not screaming internally at all now.

I saw a tweet from someone last year whose family hadn't had COVID yet, who were still masking in public, including school.

She said that her son was no kind of an athlete. Solidly bottom middle of the pack in gym.

And suddenly, this year, he was absolutely blowing past all the other kids who had to run the mile. He wasn't running any faster. His times weren't fantastic or anything. It's just that the rest of the kids were worse than him now. For some reason. I think about that a lot. (Like my incredibly active six-year-old getting a cold, and suddenly developing post-viral asthma that looked like pneumonia.

He went back to school the day before yesterday, after being home for a month and using preventative inhalers for almost week.

He told me that it was GREAT - except that he couldn't run as much at recess, because he immediately got really tired. Like how I went outside with him to do some yard work and felt like my body couldn't figure out how to increase breathing and heart rate.

I wasn't physically out of breath, but I felt like I was out of breath. That COVID feeling people describe, of "I'm not getting enough air." Except that I didn't have that problem when I had COVID.) Some people don't observe any long (or medium) term side effects after they have it.

But researchers have found viral reservoirs of COVID-19 in everyone they've studied who had it.

It just seems to hang out, dormant, for... well, longer than we've had an opportunity to observe it, so far.

(I definitely watched that literal horror movie. I think that's an entire genre. The alien dormant under ice in the Arctic.)

(oh hey I don't like that either!!!!!!!!!) All of which is to explain why we should still care about avoiding it, and how it manages to still cause excess deaths. Measuring excess deaths has been a standard tool in public health for a long time.

We know how many people usually die from all different causes, every year. So we can tell if, for example, deaths from heart disease have gone way up in the past three years, and look for reasons. Those are excess deaths: deaths that, four years ago, would not have happened. During the pandemic, excess death rates have been a really important tool. For all sorts of reasons. Like, sometimes people die from COVID without ever getting tested, and the official cause is listed as something else because nobody knows they had COVID. But also, people are dying from cardiovascular illness much younger now.

People are having strokes and heart attacks younger, and more often, than they did before the pandemic started. COVID causes a lot of problems. And some of those problems kill people. And some of them make it easier for other things to kill us. Lung damage from COVID leading to lungs collapsing, or to pneumonia, or to a pulmonary embolism, for example. The Economist built a machine-learning model with a 95% confidence interval that gauges excess death statistics around the world, to tell them what the true toll of the ongoing COVID pandemic has been so far.

Total excess deaths globally in 2023: Three million.

3,000,000.

Official COVID-19 deaths globally so far: Seven million. 7,000,000. Total excess deaths during COVID so far: Thirty-five point two million. 35,200,000.

Five times as many.

That's bad. I don't like that at all. I'm glad last year was less than a tenth of that. I'm not particularly confident about that continuing, though, because last year we started a period of really high COVID transmission. Case rates higher than 90% of the rest of the pandemic. Here's their data, and charts you can play with, and links to detailed information on how they did all of this:

Here's a non-paywalled link to it:

https://archive.vn/2024.01.26-012536/https://www.economist.com/graphic-detail/coronavirus-excess-deaths-estimates

Oh: here's a link to where you can buy comfy, effective N95 masks in all sizes:

Those ones are about a buck each after shipping - about $30 for a box of 30. They also have sample packs for a dollar, so you can try a couple of different sizes and styles.

You can wear an N95 mask for about 40 total hours before the effectiveness really drops, so that's like a dollar for a week of wear.

They're also family-owned and have cat-shaped masks and I really love them. These ones are cuter and in a much wider range of colors, prints, and styles, but they're also more expensive; they range from $1.80 to $3 for a mask. ($18-$30 for a box of ten.)

[macmillerxluvr]

♪ - i can feel the way you feel for me this is my playpen borderline thinking like barbie baby can you play ken?

SUGAR DADDY KENJI SATO

HEAD CANNONS

• kenji buys you a gold diamond chain with the letter k bold and center so when he’s taking you your tits are bouncing with the chain, marking you as his further more along with the amount of hickeys that he leaves all around your body

• he always provides you with the best of everything and regularly sends you cash through you phone typically sending you a message for you to buy something sexy for him to rip off later that night

• there’s an obvious age gap between you both but kenji doesn’t seem to mind that fact that you’re younger than him since he is only 26 and a 7 year age gap isn’t necessarily the worst, and he definitely doesn’t seem to mind when he’s impaling you with his 9 inch dick

• he insist on cumming in you, every time you guys fuck he always make sure that every last drop of his seed is inside your fucked pussy by continuously thrusting it into you even after climaxing

• the first time you both had sex together he was not even half way inside of you before you were telling him how much it hurts and that he’s too big, so he simply chuckled before sliding himself fully in making you screech as he pierced inside your throbbing cunt

• every 2 weeks he sends you cash for you to get you nails and feet done, on the condition that the nude base color is the color of his tip or his initial is somewhere on your nail

• you’ve both at least broken 3 beds in total from kenji thrusting and pounding into you so vigorously

• doesn’t matter when doesn’t matter where kenji is fucking you wherever and whenever, the shower? done it multiple times, the driveway? loud and proud, he owns the land around it and no neighbors for miles, his office? doggy style on the desk and chair with cum everywhere and at midnight? sometimes he gets home late and just want to snuggle his dick deep in your warm asleep cunt, so he does

• even though he insists there’s nothing of a relationship sorts going on between you both, he still damn well makes you be at every single one of his games cheering him on and after sucking him off as well as a reward for winning

• he will supply you with infinite amount of plane b’s or get you on birth control (for now before he decides to bby trap you)

• if it weren’t for him living so far away and alone the police would probably pull up for noises complaint because of how loud your moans and chanting are as he fucks you silly into the mattress

• will either punish you buy fingering the fuck out of consistency and stopping before you can cum or tucking a large vibrator inside your pussy on the highest mode and forcing you to not cum till your sobbing begging to be able to cum

• anything you want kenji can give it to you in a blink of an eye, as long as your eyes stay on him and not closed as he plows roughly inside of you making you grip onto the cum stained black silk bedsheets

• other than his clear breeding kink he also has a size kink, so when he’s thrusting inside you or in missionary what seems to mostly send the both of you over the edge is him pressing on the tummy bulge inside of you that his large cock created

• when in public sometimes he just has to relieve himself inside of you so he usually pulls you to the bathroom and rolls your panties to the side as you try not to squirm as he forces himself inside your pulsating pussy

• at first it took a while for you to get used to kenji length but now your pussys grown tolerant the pain for the pleasure as he fills you up till the very brim with his dick

• sometimes when he truly wants to savor you without you stopping him, he ties your hands up on headboard and legs tied up to either side of the bed and eats you out till your moans and screams are heard by all of tokyo and fucks you up til as many rounds as he can milk himself out in, or till your legs are shaking (which is mostly after the 5 round)

• when he bought you the car that you kept on talking about the first thing he did once he bought it was fuck you mercilessly in the back seats to claim you inside of it before anyone else enters it

• rarely but occasionally he’s sub and he’s in utter agony not being able to touch you as his hands are now tied along with his legs as you ride him til you both see stars but with every little moan or noise you make it’s all heard by him along with the sound of your thighs clashing together and the wet sounds your pussy makes, being like music to his ears making it seemingly worth it

• he often surprises you with trips and to fancy suites and airbnb’s where you’ll both just end up fucking all throughout the trip

• he makes you suck his cock til he’s at least cummed 3 times or til tears are flowing down your eyes, drools slipping out your mouth and til he hears you gag which is given on the girth and thickness of his dick

• kenji as well bought you your own huge penthouse (though you could’ve easily bought yourself considering you were a well known model) in which he installed a soundproof barrier around so when you guys have sex it’s aloud as you’d both like without causing issues

• whenever your around him he requires you to wear skirts for easy access so at any given moment he can simply slip your black lacy little panties from inside you mini skirt down your pedicured legs easily giving him your pretty little cunt out on display for him to toy and fuck with

[graves-simper]

What really happened in Room 302?

Yes, just like everyone else I am finally doing a small essay/analysis on TCOAAL.

This time I wanted to dive in something that wasn't a big part of the game, but has been on my mind since my first play through of the game and that is like the title states; What really happened in Room 302? Lets begin.

I wanted to start off by talking about the Lady in Room 302. Who is she?

We really don't know much. Her eye color isn't shown, she looks somewhat average but in terms of others opinions (ie; the Warden's and even Ashley) She is a very pretty woman. Even at a point Andrew says that she looks good. Take a look at some of the dialog below:

I mean, wasn't she?

After this very tasteful conversation these two love-birds have, Ashley heads up to commence the ritual to sacrifice the 2nd Warden, and of course Our Ashley pulls it off with no problems, and back downstairs she goes with full intentions of painting the wall with Lady 302's brains, but it appears someone beat her to the punch.

AND NOW I PRESENT WHERE I IMMEDIATELY BEGAN TO CALL CAP ON MR. DOORMAT EXTRAORDINAIRE AND HIS SILLY LITTLE LIES.

Your honor, this man is absolutely lying. The first thing that made me question everything about his story here is where she is lying dead. On the damn bed. Your honor, let's enhance this real quick.

That nail gun is a damn good several feet away from where Lady 302 lies dead on the bed. In fact it is in exactly the same position as when we left Andrew alone with her, and look at the sheer distance. These apartments clearly aren't huge but let me just be critical for a minute. Her mattress appears to be a single style mattress, so lets take in some measurements.

I can settle on the length being 75" or 6.25ft. So the apartment is about 12 feet wide. Not huge by any means, but to go from sitting down on a bed, even the edge, she would have to make quite the lunge while accounting for some random maniac being right next to you with a meat cleaver. I also do not think she would be the type to risk her life for a daring escape. Look at how absolutely bewildered she is the second Andrew rushes her.

That is NOT the face of someone who is absolutely down to fuck around and find out. She also had a chance to get help while also risking her life, when she is given the radio she could have screamed for help, and while yes she would've died, at this point I would say the risk factor was relatively similar.

Now that I have established my reasoning for why I don't think this lady tried to kill Andrew with a nailgun or even had the chance to, let's go over some of the reasons I think he DID choose to kill her.

No Witnesses.

This is a very boring theory but I have to bring it up no less. I think there is a good chance he just said fuck it, and killed her for the sake of not leaving evidence behind. She saw their faces, heard their names, and they even said they were her neighbor from upstairs. Leaving her behind could've ruined EVERYTHING for them after this point, and based on Ashley's sour reaction to her mere existence, I think he already knew damn well Ashley would want her dead too.

Make my Ashley happy.

This ties back to the point I made in No Witnesses. Ashley took her as a threat, and obviously Andrew noticed. She was not pleased after he called her "Pretty". I think once he was alone, he figured he would off her to show Ashley that he wasn't ogling her or wanting to do anything with her. In fact she meant so little to him, he butchered her right on her bed. To support this, the way Ashley reacts when she returns absolutely floors Andrew, he is calm about what happened but Ashley is still coming up with thoughts that he tried to fuck her, when in his mind, he was probably hoping she would be thrilled that he killed this awful, hell-bound, hussie. But instead she is still somehow mad despite her being now a corpse. He becomes to fed up that even though he did what she would've anyways, it is somehow not good enough for her. (I will dive deeper into this interaction below with another theory that relies heavily on this.)

The Hussie hit on him.

This one ties into Make my Ashley happy. There is a good chance this obviously sexually attractive woman tried seducing Andrew while they were alone. She had no problem doing it with the Warden's to get better treatment, and I have no doubt this was her go-to get out of trouble free card. This charming young man would surely fall for her good looks right? Right? There's two thought processes that would make this reasonable. 1. He was worried how Ashley would react if she walked in with her clearly flirting with him and how that would make her feel. 2. My personal favorite of these two, he is dedicated to Ashley and was offended by her advances and killed her in a show of devotion to her.

Now that we have the more sane theories out of the way, lets get to the GOOD STUFF.

Andrew's Fantasy.

This theory is more of a mental guess as to Andrew's relationship and views of Ashley. He has been clearly fed up with her more than once up to this point, having arguments, dealing with her shit, and all the trauma he just experienced from starving for weeks, isolation, and having to butcher and eat someone, and then murder a man to save her.

What if once Andrew had a moment alone with someone who was essentially his victim, he decided to truly see how he felt about something. I believe Andrew may have not seen Lady 302 as Ashley, but just for the hell of it, imagined that she was Ashley. Despite the different appearances, I'm sure he could overlook it in the state of mind he was in at this point, and decided how it would feel to finally kill "Ashley". The way he kills her just doesn't feel like he said fuck it and wanted the lady dead, she is laid out on the bed, there's no signs of a struggle either. Later in the game during one of the visions, there is the one where Andrew finally kills Ashley. When she accepts that he will kill her, he brings the cleaver to her throat similarly to how the throat of Lady 302 was cut. The similarities just feel so similar that I had to bring this up despite it being possibly far fetched but that's what makes these fun!

and now for my most absolutely far fetched theory yet.

Don't these two look similar?

This theory is much more far fetched but hear me out on this!

I know this may be a result of Nemlei's artstyle but these two have some stark similarities in my opinion. Both blonde, same eye color based on the greyscale of them, similar hair parting, and a similar face shape.

After all the trauma Andrew went through in the weeks locked in their apartment and then killing several people and eating one no doubt sent his brain to a bad place.

I think after all that hell he endured he may have simply had a breaking point and felt like he saw a ghost or just the stark similarities between Lady 302 and Nina just made something snap.

I want to back this up by making a point to the story telling in the game. Before they go and escape their apartment conveniently before the Room 302 incident, there is a dream about how Andrew and Ashley killed Nina. This could be just the flow of the story telling however, I feel like it was a lead up to what really happened in Room 302. It just feels too perfect to include that scene right before he kills someone who I am assuming is what Nina may have grown up to look like, AND then with this scene occurring once Ashley returns almost feels like a nail in the coffin of this theory.

Nina isn't brought up in the apartment, or once they're in the motel. Nina is brought up during a heated exchange in Room 302 right after Andrew might have felt as if he killed Nina once again, yet just like when they killed Nina, Ashley still somehow thinks that Andrew has a thing for a woman he helped kill, and this absolutely drives him off his fucking rocker.

This exchange floored Mr. Doormat so intensely he finally was ready to absolutely throttle the life out of her. Andrew was finally so fed up with being berated for doing things for Ashley's sake he just wanted it to be done and over with forever. Andrew once again found himself in the same place Ashley put him in all those years ago, but this time he knows he isn't as vulnerable as he was and uses it to his advantage, but after their little squabble, they leave together to bless our hearts with Chapter 2.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Perhaps this was as plain as the story made it out to be. There is a good chance that Andrew didn't want to leave a witness and said hell with it and butchered the woman in Room 302. But I'd like to believe that with all the hidden details Nemlei has scattered throughout this game that there is truth to one of these theories, hell maybe even a giant jumble of them all together is the true story of Room 302.

But with everything I presented today I hope you all perhaps are too questioning what really happened in Room 302 like I was.

I'd love to hear any theories you guys have regarding this or twists/opinions on the ones I presented here!

Thank you all for reading!

[prythianpages]

Stuck On You | Part Three

cassian x reader | Cassian can't seem to forget about you since the night you met seven years ago. he thought he would never see you again but when he does, he's determined to make you his. this time for good.

“Don’t worry. She likes your butt and fancy hair. I know, I read her diary.”

[series masterlist]

A/N: I debated on splitting this into two parts since it came out longer than intended but I wanted to leave the bulk of the angst in this part. Some more scenes and quotes from Lilo & Stitch since I couldn't help myself. just one more part! I have a rough outline of it so I probably won't be able to finish it tonight but definitely by some time this coming week.

Warnings: angst, some fluff if you squint, mentions of violence/abuse

“Cassian said he would take me out for ice cream if you said yes!” Seraphine beamed, removing her boots at the foyer of your small, humble home. “I’ve never had ice cream before. Have you?”

“Sera,” you said with a sigh, concern laced into your tone over how attached she was to him. His month-long absence had given you a glimpse of the consequence of the effect he had on not just you but Seraphine as well and you didn’t want her to get hurt. She wouldn’t understand. 

“I think it’s best if we don’t see Cas anymore.”

She turned to you with a pout. “He’s our friend! You have to say yes.”

“I can’t.”

“Why not?” Seraphine’s lip quivered, her tired eyes brimming with tears.

You didn’t answer, couldn’t bring yourself to.

Instead, you threw your aching body onto the small loveseat in the living room. This week had taken both an emotional and physical toll on you, as you tirelessly kept Seraphine up to date with her studies, managed the tavern’s monthly expenses and wrestled with your feelings about Cassian. The constant restlessness in Seraphine only added to the mountain of exhaustion, her unbridled excitement buzzing incessantly over everything.

You knew you should draw a bath for the both of you and then head to bed, considering your fatigue.

However, you were well aware of your little sister’s stubborn nature as it was one you also exhibited. It must run in the family. Once she was fixated on something, there was no distracting her and judging by the intensity of your little sister’s sobs, you braced yourself for a long and challenging night.

“You’re so mean!” She cried. “I hate you!”

“Please don’t be a pain tonight,” you groaned, pinching the bridge of your nose.

“You should just sell me and buy a rabbit instead!” Sara shouted at you with her finger pointed at you, referring to your empty threat of replacing her with a rabbit every time she misbehaved. You hadn’t brought it up in months, years even, and were surprised she remembered.

“At least a rabbit would behave better than you,” you muttered. 

“Go ahead!” Seraphine exclaimed, making you wince at her sharp tone. You hoped your neighbors could not hear her, fearing what they’d do if they did. You heard her angry stomps as she made her way to her room. “Then you’ll be happy! It will be smarter than me too.”

“And quieter!”

“You’ll like it because it’s stinky like you!”

“Go to your room!”

“I’m already in my room!” Seraphine screamed as she opened her door just to slam it shut again, irritating you further.

You grabbed the nearest pillow and brought it to your face to muffle your scream.

**

Guilt began to settle as your initial anger faded away. You knew you had overreacted. For many years, it had just been you and the small family your mother had created. Neither you or Seraphine had made any friends in Ironcrest yet, unless you counted the friendly old male who you purchased spices and groceries from every Sunday. 

Your small family of four had unexpectedly and significantly reduced to half, leaving just you and Seraphine. Of course, she was excited when Cassian came along. You’d deny it if asked but a part of you was excited too.

He was sweet and kind but your worries crept in about what it meant to allow him into your tightly-knit world. What if things didn’t work out between you? What if the burdens you carried were too much for him to bear? You couldn’t allow him in further when your sister was already so attached to him, unable to bear the thought of having her witness another loved one disappear from her life.

You had to end this, whatever it was that you and Cassian had and you had to end it soon. Before any further damage could be provoked.

Throughout your life, stability had been a luxury, and the haunting fear of attachment loomed over you. The constant uprooting had instilled a deep seated fear of getting close to people. Every bond you had forged was inevitably followed by a painful goodbye. The walls safeguarding your heart, constructed since childhood, grew higher and stronger with every move. You had hoped that your mother’s marriage would bring a lasting change, a nice and needed break from moving, and for a while, it had.

However, the universe had a cruel way of reminding you that stability was a luxury you couldn’t afford. You would’ve never expected your one night stand with Cassian would lead to something more–to this. 

Cassian, with his unwavering determination, posed a threat to the walls you had carefully built around your heart. Love. It seemed like a beautiful risk but the fear of losing what was gained, overshadowed its allure for you. Your heart had never felt so heavy.

You took a deep breath before knocking on your sister’s door. The lack of response didn’t surprise you. She must still be upset. The soft glow of faelight seeping from beneath her door confirmed she was awake. Balancing the two mugs of hot cocoa in one arm, you opened the door and slipped inside.

Your stomach churned at the sight of your little sister, clutching the pegasus doll that Cassian had gifted her. Tears streaked her face as she gazed down solemnly.

“I brought you, your favorite. Hot cocoa,” you offered, hoping to bring a glimmer of cheer to her troubled expression.

“We’re a broken family, aren’t we?”

You frowned, setting the tray down on the nightstand, hesitating before answering. “Maybe but only a little…”

You settled yourself onto Seraphine’s bed, gently cradling her into your lap. “I’m sorry for earlier. I shouldn’t have raised my voice at you.”

“I like you better as a sister than a mother…” Seraphine sniffled.

“Yeah?” You tenderly brushed her long, dark hair away from her face in contemplation.

 A pang tugged at your heart–the weight of becoming a mother figure pressed on your shoulders. As a sister, you also played a nurturing and protective role in Seraphine’s upbringing, offering support when it was needed. You were the one Seraphine would run to for comfort after your mother's scolding or being stern with her, but now you were the one that had to be stern. It was a struggle finding the balance between fulfilling the motherly duties Seraphine needed and preserving the sibling bond that meant the world to you.

“And you like me better as a sister than a rabbit, right?”

“Oh, my sweet Sera.” You replied, pressing a kiss to her forehead, your arms wrapping around her smaller form with a gentle squeeze. “Of course I do! I would not make my special hot cocoa for just anyone. Only you.”

You handed one of the mugs to her, smiling fondly as she inhaled the rich scent.

“Cassian says ice cream is like frozen milk,” she mused softly. “I wonder what hot cocoa would taste like frozen but then it would no longer be hot cocoa, right? We would have to come up with a new name for it but I don’t think I like the sound of frozen cocoa…”

Her innocent dilemma made you laugh, finding it utterly endearing. You wanted her worries to always be like this. Small and trivial.

“Perhaps we should leave the cocoa out to freeze and find out for ourselves? We can decide on a name then.”

**

The night air was chilling, the cold wind biting at your cheeks. You hugged your coat closer to you, sparing at glance at Seraphine to make sure she still had hers on and the scarf you had bought her was snug to keep her neck warm. You couldn’t help but giggle when you caught Cassian, who had been persistent on walking you home, was constantly blowing his hair out of his face.

“Did you lose all your hair ties?” You quipped, digging into the pocket of your pants and offering a hair tie to him to alleviate his struggle. He reluctantly took the elastic from you and tied his hair up into his usual bun. You noticed he wore it down more recently. “You can keep it, too.”

“I just wanted to let it loose, try something different.” He replied with a casual shrug of his shoulders.

You let out a small hum, stuffing your hands back into your pockets to keep them hidden and fell into a thoughtful silence once more. There was a knot in your stomach as you three neared your house.

Seraphine, who once again had chosen to skip ahead of you two, paused. She turned around with a knowing gleam in her eye. Her lips curled up and she opened her mouth to speak and if you hadn’t been occupied in the tempest of your thoughts, you wouldn’t have missed Cassian bringing his finger to his lips to keep her from exposing him.

“Fancy hair,” she giggled, despite his plea.

“What was that?” You said, turning your head toward your sister.

Both Seraphine and Cassian exchanged a look before turning to you, responding in unison:

“Nothing!”

Your eyes narrowed at the two in suspicion but you decided not to question it.

When you three finally reached your home, Cassian was surprised at your invitation to come inside. You had never invited him inside, always bidding your farewells at your door. He walked in, overwhelmed by the sweet and delightful scent. It smelled just like you. His eyes darted around the living area curiously, taking in all the small touches you incorporated to make this place feel like a warm and inviting home.

 You instructed Seraphine to change and pick a book for you to read to her before bed. She politely said her goodbye and goodnight to Cassian, her movements slow as she was reluctant to follow your instructions. She had no desire to go to bed, not when Cassian was inside your home for the first time and you found the glare she sent you amusing.

Cassian was staring at the wilted and dead flowers resting in a small vase you had placed on the kitchen table, recognizing them as the ones he had gifted you so long ago. You never threw them away.

“Cassian.”

He loved the way you said his name. But it was different this time. He pulled his attention away from the kitchen table to look back at you. You leaned against the back of the loveseat in hesitation, your eyes revealing the weight of the decision you were about to make.

His throat tightened. “Yes?”

“I think it’s best if you stop coming here.” Your voice was laced with a vulnerability you hated and before Cassian could reply, you were speaking again. “I have to take care of my sister. I can’t risk her getting attached, more so than she already is and–and neither can I. We’ve lost so much already…”

A tear escaped your eye. You brushed it away with a trembling hand and then Cassian was bridging the distance between you both, his hand gently cupping your cheek and coaxing your gaze to his. 

“Y/n,” he gently whispered. “You’re not going to lose me.”

“How can you say that? What if something happens and–”

“Please don’t push me away.”

 “They call you the Lord of Bloodshed. You’re the commander of the High Lord’s armies. You made a name for yourself. And me? I am no one. I’m not worthy of love. Of you. You’ll soon realize it and grow tired of me–”

“Stop.” Cassian interrupted, bringing his other hand up to cup your face. His touch was both comforting and agonizing. “You are worthy of love and so much more and I want to prove it to you. There could be a room full of others but just like that night at the bonfire, I want you. I choose you.”

A heavy sigh escaped you as you gently removed his hands from your face. “But I can’t choose you. I have to choose Seraphine. I always will and right now, I can’t afford to have you both.”

The weight of your words hung in the air, a stark reminder of the responsibilities that anchored you, pulling you away from the love that beckoned.

Cassian grasped your hands in his, refusing to let them slip away. He did not want to let go of you. He understood the depth of your worries and the distress etched onto your features was breaking his heart. Why couldn’t you see yourself the way he saw you?

“I won’t force you into something that scares you, y/n.” He reassured you with a soft tone, his thumbs tracing soothing circles on the back of your hands. “I only want what’s best for you and Seraphine.”

Your lips trembled as you managed a small, strained smile.

“But you have to know that I love you–both of you. And this love, it’s not going anywhere. It’s a constant. A promise that will never waver.”

**

Cassian hadn’t returned and although you had asked for it, you couldn’t deny the lingering void in your heart. Seraphine sensed something was amiss when your voice wavered as you read her a bedtime story shortly after he left. Surprisingly, she refrained from asking about Cassian until a week later, almost as if she dreaded hearing the news that he wouldn’t be coming back. 

When she finally did, tears welled in her eyes and you comforted her, convincing yourself it was for the best. However, the attempt of reassurance was futile and did little to ease your own pain.

Seraphine sighed, absentmindedly nudging the green vegetable on her plate. Scrumps was propped on the table, facing her with its stitched eyes. “At least I still have you,” she murmured to the pegasus plush. “You’ll never leave me, right?”

You frowned at the sight, feeling helpless and unsure how to alleviate your sister’s sorrow. This was precisely what you had tried to shield her from and it stung to realize it was too late. The damage had already been done.

Your attention was then pulled away as the creaking door to the tavern swung open. The room fell into silence. The dining Illyrians, previously immersed in their conversations, cast furtive glances toward the entrance.

In stepped the son of Ironcrest’s war-lord, Kallon. Another Illyrian stepped in behind him but he was overshadowed by Kallon’s commanding presence. His gaze swept over the room, eyes like steel, assessing every face, every corner of the establishment. The tension in the air was palpable. He was looking for someone.

The regulars exchanged subtle nods, acknowledging the unspoken command to show respect. Whispers died down, and the muted sound of footsteps echoed as he advanced further into the tavern.

Your eyes were wide and you felt your body tense. You almost forgot how to breathe when Kallon’s cold eyes found yours. Seraphine, who sensed your distress, hopped off her chair and ran to you. Her tiny hand found yours and you guided her to stand behind you as Kallon continued his approach.

“Kallon,” you managed to find your voice, forcing a smile onto your face as you bowed your head in respect. “Should I prepare a table for you and your companion?”

“There’s no need.” He replied. He then turned his head at the eavesdropping Illryians, his gaze a silent warning to them. It wasn’t until the menacing look on his face prompted a couple to abandon their tables and those that remained to resume their conversations that he turned his attention back to you. “I came here to speak to you.”

“Me?” You echoed, your voice daring to break. The male behind Kallon remained quiet but you caught the way his gaze had flickered to your little sister, who hid behind your skirts. “To what do I owe this pleasure?”

“It has come to my attention that you have been fraternizing with an Illyrian male from Windhaven–” Kallon’s lips curled up in disgust and you felt Seraphine’s grip on you tighten. “– who just so happens to also be the High Lord’s general.”

“His name is Cassian.” Seraphine said, peeking out from behind you to scowl at Kallon.

Kallon looked toward your sister with a scoff. You pressed Seraphine into your hip to keep her from speaking again, worried of the consequences that may unfold. “He’s just a friend.”

Kallon’s attention drifted back to you, his gaze burning into you. “It seems you and I have different understandings of a friend because friends don’t kiss each other now do they?”

Your breath hitched. The two of you seldom interacted with each other. The last time you did was to report your mother’s murder. You cursed yourself at that moment, disappointed with yourself. You had failed to recognize that Cassian was well known throughout Illyria and to make it worse, he was from Windhaven. A rival camp to Ironcrest. You wondered how long Kallon had been following you and why he waited to confront you about it now, several months later since Cassian’s first visit. 

“I–”

“It’s not a good look for you, y/n.” Kallon shook his head in disapproval with a small tut. “You of all people should know the consequences of whoring yourself out. Finding a husband will be troublesome for you and if you continue down this path, it is not a good example for your dear little sister.”

Your blood grew cold at the insult and you forced yourself to look up to keep the tears that were threatening to spill at bay. “I’m s–”

“It seems I may have failed you in some aspects.” Kallon interrupted, raising a finger at you in warning. He turned his attention to the empty glasses lined at the counter. “It is my job, after all, to help my father run this camp and it seems that I have overlooked you. Poor little y/n. You have been running this business and raising your sister all on your own.”

His fingers danced along the counter, a wicked gleam in his eyes. The sound of breaking glass echoed through the air, a sharp and crystalline shatter that reverberated through your bones and had Seraphine wincing into your body. You stared at the shattered glass at your feet, heart pounding through your ears.

“But it is not your place to do so.” Kallon reprimanded, his voice seething with a barely contained intensity. “It is his.”

You lifted your gaze.

The Illyrian male that had been quietly observant finally stepped forward. His features held a strange familiarity you couldn’t quite place. His eyes were cold and distant, lips pressed into a taut line.

“This is Aerik. Seraphine’s uncle.”

**

The wind was knocked out of you as the day you had dreaded finally came. Kallon had tracked down your step father’s only living relative– his brother, Aerik. The illusion you had so carefully crafted was unraveling and you found yourself at the precipice, forced to surrender the tavern and Seraphine, as if she were a mere object, to him.

But you knew the future that laid ahead for Seraphine if she stayed with her uncle. To you, she was your precious little sister, the one you had devoted your life to. To him, she was disposable, reduced to nothing but a bargaining tool once she was of marrying age. 

She would not have the freedom to be a child as she did with you. She would be groomed to become a submissive wife and soon enough, her wings would be clipped. A tradition that had been banned but not enforced in Ironcrest. You could not allow any harm to fall to your sister, not when you were alive and capable of taking care of her. You wondered if this is how your mother had felt when she had you, cornered by the cruel world.

Kallon had left moments ago, along with the remaining customers, but now without a warning. A threat to harm you and Cassian in unimaginable ways if Kallon heard of Cassian meeting with you again.

"I don't give a fuck if he's the High Lord's pet. This is my father's camp and as his son, I have the authority to punish those who dare cross us as needed."

You had instructed Seraphine to go to the kitchens to help tidy up, leaving you and Aerik alone. Your eyebrows knitted together in an exasperated manner, bewildered by his demands. 

You were a half breed–half high fae, half Illyrian–and a bastard. You were of little significance to Aerik–to any male in this damned camp, if you were being honest–and his plans with Seraphine did not include you. He wanted to take her away from you. For good.

He shifted, directing himself toward the kitchen and you were stopping him. Your hand gripped his arm desperately. “Seraphine needs me.”

Aerik tore his arm from your grasp with a snarl, using it to grip yours instead in retribution. His grip was hard and bruising and had you grimacing. “Is this what she needs?” He seethed, vividly gesturing to the tavern and lack of order in Seraphine’s life.

 “It seems clear to me that you need her a lot more than she needs you.”

**

Cassian told himself he would give you space, as tortuous as it was for him. It’s what you had asked him for. He missed you dearly, often wondering if you were feeling that painful ache in your heart too. Despite the temptation, he resisted the urge to ask Azriel to check in on you with his shadows, not wanting to bring his friend into this tangled messy emotions he found himself grappling with. He couldn’t shake the desire to check up on you one more time, hoping that you might've change your mind.

A week later, when an overwhelming sense of unease gripped him, he set off for Ironcrest.

Cassian pushed open the door to the familiar tavern, his second home as Rhysand had teased him weeks ago. His eyes scanned the room in search of you like they always did, but he couldn't spot the one person he was hoping to see. His head was then turning to the table Seraphine often occupied only to find it empty. 

An unsettling feeling knotted in his stomach when he couldn’t spot either of you, not missing the glare the male behind the counter had sent his way. It confirmed his suspicion that you weren’t here. Growing concerned, he decided to look for you, hoping you were safe and sound at home.

The journey was swift as it was one he knew by heart, his footsteps echoing through the quiet streets. When he reached your door, he hesitated for a moment. He could see the glow of a light, coming from the small window that he knew faced your living room. He heard a squeak come from inside, recognizing it as Seraphine’s, and then he was knocking on your door.

There was a faint rustling inside and then the door creaked open. Cassian’s confusion set in as he initially saw no one at the other side. It wasn’t until he heard a sharp gasp that his gaze shifted downward, relief washing over him as he spotted Seraphine.  

“Cas Cas!” Seraphine’s expression brightened, reveling in his presence and wrapping her tiny arms around him when he crouched down. “I thought I’d never see you again!”

“It’s good to see you too, munchkin.” Cassian smiled fondly, lifting her up with ease. He had missed her so much too.

“Sera, it’s time for your ba–Cassian?” You blinked, your grip on the towel in your hand tightening. “You shouldn’t be here.”

“Can I come in?”

You looked past his shoulders worriedly and hesitantly nodded.

Cassian stepped into the foyer, crouching down to let Seraphine down. She grasped at his hand, guiding him to the living room where you stood with a forced smile on your face.

His worry deepened as he looked at you. "You weren’t at the tavern so I came to–to see you.”

To make sure you’re alright, is what he wanted to say but within seconds of seeing you, he knew you weren’t. Yet, you still attempted to dismiss his concern with a casual shrug. “My step-uncle is taking over the tavern now.”

“Oh yeah, Cas! I have a step-uncle now and he’s so nice to me. He bought me a new coloring book and so many toys! Do you want to see?”

Cassian realized that the glaring male from the tavern must be Seraphine’s step-uncle. He caught the way you bit the inside of your cheek at your little sister’s words, sensing something more beneath the surface.

“Sure.” He replied to Seraphine.

He waited until she disappeared down the hallway to take a step closer to you. “Is everything okay?”

A fleeting moment of hesitation flickered in your eyes that you quickly concealed, hoping he didn’t notice. But he did.

 "I'm fine, really. Just a bit tired but thankfully Aerik offered to step in to help.”

Despite your attempt to reassure him, Cassian couldn't shake the feeling of unease. The lines of worry etched on his face as he spoke, "You can tell me anything, you know that, right?"

“Yeah,” you nodded your head nonchalantly at him.

“Y/n.” His voice was gentle but stern and he reached out for your hands.

His fingers accidentally brushed against the bruise Aerik had left the other night and you couldn’t mask the wince that followed. Cassian stilled, eyes glancing down and widening at the marking of your skin. “Y/n, Sweetheart–”

“It’s nothing.” You were pulling your arm from his grasp and out of his view, clasping them behind your back. “I tripped and hit my arm against the counter the other night.”

Cassian felt a burning feeling in his chest, his teeth clenching. Someone had touched you--hurt you.

“Does this have anything to do with the sudden appearance of Seraphine’s uncle?”

“No.” Your response was too quick to be anything but a lie. “Aerik has been kind to us. So kind that he offered to help me find a husband.”

More lies. Your fear and anxiety grew with every passing moment that Cassian remained in Ironcrest. Kallon’s menacing warnings echoed in your mind, threatening dire consequences for both you and Cassian, if he ever returned. Since he had gone to the tavern to look for you, you were sure Aerik had seen him. Cassian was not one to easily blend into the crowd with his imposing stature, striking features and seven siphons. It was only a matter of time before he would run off to go tell Kallon.

You knew Cassian was a formidable warrior from all the gossip and tales you'd heard at the bonfire. Still, you couldn't shake your fear. Cassian was in enemy territory. Vastly outnumbered. He had to leave.

Cassian shook his head in disbelief, swallowing hard. “What?”

Stepping forward, he closed the distance between you, his intense gaze burning into your skin as you actively avoided it. “Is this what you want?”

“It’s what is best,” you told him, sidestepping his question. “So please leave. I don’t want Aerik to get the wrong idea by having you here in the house alone with me.”

“Y/N–”

“I’m so sorry, Cassian.”

Walking away, you felt your heart begin to shatter, unaware that you had also shattered his. You wiped at your eyes once you knew you were out of his view, holding your breath as you moved down the hallway. Seraphine ran past you with her coloring book and you couldn’t bring yourself to stop her.

Seraphine paused, her chest heaving as she caught up with her breath. Her lips curved into a deep frown when she spotted Cassian heading for the door. “Cas Cas, where are you going? I was going to show you my coloring book…"

"I thought you were here to stay.”

Cassian couldn’t bring himself to answer her and as young as she was, she recognized the look in his eyes. It mirrored the expression on your face before you had to deliver bad news. 

“You can leave again if you want.” Seraphine said as realization dawned on her. She casted her head down.

“I’ll remember you though. I remember everyone that leaves.”

[series masterlist]

A/N: don't hate me for breaking Cas's heart. I just live for the angst 🫠 if it's any consolation, this will have a happy ending 🩷

tagging: @kemillyfreitas

[ladytesla]

Cowboy Halsin

I saw @aerynwrites musing about how Halsin would be as a cowboy or rancher. I thought I'd throw in my two cents, since I live on a farm myself.

There's more to it than just seeing Halsin speaking softly to horses, as awesome a sight as that would be. There's more to living out in the country than horses, believe me. This kind of morphed into Country Halsin and not Cowboy Halsin, but I hope y'all like it anyway. Let's go through a day in the life, shall we?

Halsin would probably be up before dawn, kissing your cheek before getting out of bed as carefully as possible, trying not to wake you. You have your own goals to accomplish today, he wants to let you wake up on your own.

Besides, he loves the stillness just before the sun rises. The nocturnal creatures are seeking their nests and burrows, the diurnal ones have yet to wake. This solitary commune with nature is one of the highlights of his day, listening to the wind in the leaves, the crickets and the frogs. It is a very referent time of morning that seems to stretch for ages and at the same time end far too soon.

As he reaches the barn, the day officially begins. Animals need to be fed. Mostly they graze in the pasture, but some need special treatment. An old swaybacked mare needs a little something extra to keep her weight up. Maybe there's a colt who managed to hurt himself somehow, and the wound needs to be tended to. Maybe it's cold outside, so he throws out alfalfa with the hay. Alfalfa is also called 'hot hay' because it raises an animal's body temperature, which is a great trick for winter.

He speaks to the horses as he works, maybe fondly berating the colt for being so clumsy in his excitement, or encouraging the mare to eat everything he's set out for her, smoothing a large hand down her side and smiling to himself when he feels her ribs much more faintly than he used to. One of the horses who is usually waiting in the mornings isn't there... that's a bit odd. He'll turn up eventually. The chickens milling around outside have heard his voice and know The One Who Feeds Them has arrived, so they peek around and wander into the barn themselves, waiting very impatiently. The goats in another small paddock nearby are just as impatient. They start yelling and bleating as if they're starving to death and He Is A Cruel And Unjust Father And They Are Going To Scream.

He likes hearing the chickens chatter as he scatters out feed for them. They don't have anything of real importance to say, but they never stop talking. Mostly it's "Food! Food! Food! Bug? Food! Scratch. Peck. Scratch. Bug!" in a dozen warbling little voices. He brought a bag of veggie scraps from last night's dinner with him to throw to the goats, which stops them yelling. "I don't think the neighbors heard you yet," he would say dryly as he throws hay to them as well. Sometimes they headbutt each other for access to the best morsels, and while he wants to prevent this to keep anyone from getting injured, he knows it's in their nature. He keeps an eye on the smallest and oldest, however, making sure they get their fair share. The twin kids born last week toddle after their mother like baby ducks. It seems like she has enough milk for both of them, though he still has powdered formula and bottles from the last kidding season, just in case they're needed once more.

Now that everyone's been fed, it's time to walk the fences, looking for that missing horse in the process. A lesser known but very important job when it comes to country life. Any breaks could not only let animals out, but predators in. He'd keep an eye out for signs of predators nearby. He hasn't seen any today, but he heard coyotes crying out in the darkness the night before. By this time of morning, though, he has company. You've made your appearance, bleary-eyed and handing him an insulated cup of coffee. You're already on your second.

The fog from earlier hasn't been burned off completely by the sun yet. It's a quiet time for the two of you to walk the property lines together. Halsin is a bit concerned about that horse. He hasn't shown up yet. Soon, though, he sees a silhouette in the last bits of fog, and sighs with relief. The horse isn't lying down from illness, he's just... trapped. The two of you look at this big strong chestnut gelding, eyes rolling and sides heaving, barricaded in the corner of the pasture because... there's a rabbit in the way. A fat little gray-brown bunny, nibbling delicately at the grass without a care in the world. Truly a terrifying sight to behold.

"Arthur we've spoken about this," Halsin sighs as he walks closer to the horse. "Rabbits can't hurt you. They eat plants, and they're tiny. Look!"

Still, Arthur isn't convinced. Halsin soothes him, stroking his nose and smiling to himself at the absurdity of it.

"My heart," he glances to you, "please convince our visitor to release Arthur."

You smile as you shuffle closer to the rabbit, gently shooing it back through the fence. Now that Arthur is out of mortal peril, he happily walks off towards the barn.

"They're majestic creatures," Halsin admits, "but sometimes..." He shakes his head, then keeps walking the fence. "Come on, my love... we're only halfway."

~~~

A round bale is delivered around lunchtime. The thing is as tall as you and just as wide and weighs an ungodly amount. But it needs to go out into the pasture somehow. Moving a round bale is a two-person job. Your job is to hold the gate open and keep the curious horses at bay... and to watch as Halsin, sleeves rolled up and muscles bulging, easily rolls it into the paddock as though it weighs nothing. He barely has time to set the feeder ring around it before the horses are nosing greedily at the fresh hay.

"I wish I could help more," you say as you close the gate.

"You help plenty," he replies, wiping sweat from his forehead. "Besides..." There's a faint glint of mischief in his eyes. "I've flattered myself into thinking you like to watch."

You grin and say he's being ridiculous, but you both know the truth.

~~~

As active a man as he is, Halsin isn't content to spend the heat of the day indoors. There are still so many things to be done. Bird feeders to fill. Eggs to collect from the chickens. The vegetable garden to water and weed. Water troughs to top up. Finally, there's a little time to take a break. Sometimes you have other things on your schedule, but today you decide to join him. The two of you find a shady spot under a tree and settle in with a book, some whittling, perhaps a snack, and you let yourselves get lost in nature. The afternoon sounds are different from the early morning ones. There are no crickets or frogs, no reverent stillness. Now there are raucous little songbirds fighting over birdseed, the chatter of a squirrel, the crow of the rooster, maybe even the far-off braying of a neighbor's donkey a quarter mile away. The windchimes you hung from the back porch. And underneath it all, the wind humming in the trees. Halsin leans back against the rough bark of the tree, closes his eyes, and feels the undercurrent of life running through all things. You can't help but admire the sheer expression of peace and happiness on his face, and set your little diversions aside to lean your head on his shoulder. His arm instictively wraps around you to pull you closer against him, and you enjoy simply existing as part of nature for a while.

~~~

The sun is about to set, casting mile-long shadows and lighting up the fields like gold. It's nearing time to go inside and help make dinner. But first the old mare and the colt need to be tended to once more. Another helping of special feed for the mare, sequestering her in her stall so that she can eat in peace without a certain someone (whose name may or may not be Arthur} attempting to share. The colt's wound is healing nicely, and Halsin digs in his pocket for a cookie in exchange for the colt standing still enough to be treated. He tosses another cookie to Arthur who protests that he too needs special food because he is a special boy.

He comes inside to clean up and help with dinner. He'll need to go back out in an hour or so to let the mare out of her stall, but in the meantime he's happy to be in your company as you maneuver around each other in the kitchen. If you're cooking, it may be a bit difficult with those big arms around you from behind. The two of you have been busy all day, and now that you're done with your work, he has decided to make things a little difficult.

"Love, please, I need to get to the spice cabinet." "I can reach it just fine. Tell me what you need."

"Halsin, I can't work with you right behind me like this!" "I fail to see how this is a problem, my heart. I'm having a wonderful time."

Halsin is normally a mild-mannered type, but his sense of humor sneaks out in sly ways from time to time. At least he hasn't broken out the horrible puns yet. And you have to admit, it's nice to be able to feel his deep voice resonate against your back.

Halsin is ready to sleep when it's time for bed (as long as you are too, of course. He's always up for 'extracurricular activities' if the mood is right). "We did well today, my heart," he says quietly in the darkness, pulling you close. "Pleasant dreams." He can hear the faint sounds of frogs and crickets outside your window, and that coupled with your soft breathing is enough to lull him into a deep sleep.

Was it a long day full of hard work? Yes.

Would he trade away any of it? Never.

[peanutbubba]

This one might make me a freak but "I'm cringe but I AM FREE" is like my slogan at this point so popping off I will be again.

I am half awake

Younger Law, 20-22, finally loosing his virginity after trying since he turned 17. He'd gotten close with plenty of people before, it's just that he'd either get cold feet and leave his partner confused and with a leaf in their bed or he his expectations weren't met so he pushed them away. Personally I don't label Law's sexuality, don't care much for labeling sexuality in my headcanons much, so he has tried attempted with both sexs but because I want to (I don't think I could type what I wanna so I'll let you figure out what I was gonna say) I'm thinking of a scenario where he looses his virginity to a dude, maybe just amab, I feel like virgin Law would be scared of a strap.

Guy's probably older by maybe 3 years, and it makes a difference, first person to get Law to calm down enough to not instantly ghost them once more than a shirt comes off, first person to make Law want to be heard by the neighbors, first person to fuck Law so sweet and good he almost considers offering them a place on his crew cause god all mighty the dick is that persuasive. Also, as a treat, they switch at some point or a few, still a lot of his partner talking Law through it and giving him special attention for doing so good at fucking them. I feel like Law is a default soft top/sub top, he can lay pipe when asked but bro just wanna be praised for doing a good job fr. Jesus christ if you've seen some of the other shit I say in people inboxes I love the aftercare scene like the most. Law is doing nothing after he cums!! Doesn't matter, carry him or push him off if you must but he is not participating in the movement of his body unless you're injured. Image you get done plowing Trafalgar D. Water Law and he pouts when you expect him to help clean up or he lies on you chest (BOOBY ENJOYER LAW TRUTHERS RISE) after plowing you and is pouting when you mention you guys need to get up.

This is not nearly as freaky as I had first thought it to be. Another day then I will bring you something that make Deadpool and Wolverine fans blush.

- ✨️💀✨️

Virgin Law being afraid of a strap is the funniest thing to me, like I can just imagine him making that face he usually does when he’s in complete shock, except now it’s also mixed with a touch of terrified because this colorful piece of silicone is threatening to destroy his hole. It also probably freaks him out that it isn’t real.

Anyways, as for my input, imagine marine hunter, or solo pirate reader actually being the one that helps him get over his fear. He already doesn’t have a good rep with either, but you’re able to smooth talk him enough to get him in a hotel room with you (bonus points if reader has an accent, or is just really fucking good with their words.), only to see how tense and awkward this man is.

You spend like a good 10-15 minutes just calming him down and setting up some boundaries with him, and he’s surprised as fuck because A.) you’re this super dangerous person but you’re actually super sweet?? And B.) you’re one of the first people to take the time to check in constantly with him.

Except at some point it pisses him off how nice you are, you’re balls deep in him and have already checked in with him 3 fucking times! If you don’t just make him scream your god damn name!

And now the fun part is that because you’re a marine hunter/solo pirate you’re usually just wandering from island to island with your own agenda, sometimes you just stop by wherever the fuck Law is now because you’re both in this unlabeled relationship with each other.

Sometimes you get him coins, medical books, more coins, just any gift you’d think he’d appreciate because you like seeing that stupid grin he gets when something he likes is in his hands.

As a thanks he always takes you to his captain quarter, the next morning you’re stumbling out completely dazed and fumbling with your ship as you mumble sweet flustered goodbyes, mean while he looks perfectly fine like you two didn’t spend the entire day exerting yourselves in his bed.

It’s always something new with him too, for a once virgin he can get down and freaky!

But one particular day you guys decided to switch roles, instead he’s on top now and good golly is this man so gentle. It can’t even be considered fucking anymore, this man is practically making genuine love to you.

Not that you’re mad about it, especially when you spew whispered praises about how he’s doing so good, or how he’s filling you up so well, and you can see his skin prickling with goosebumps in a good way.

Whimpering as he melts under your soft words, the soft sex somehow becoming even softer?! It’s great.

And when both of you are satisfied and done he’s laying his head on top of your chest and just resting, burying himself as far as he can between your tits. If you even try to protest this 6 foot almost 200 pound man just gets grumpy, plus all it gets him to do is close his arms around your waist and pull you even closer to him, burrowing himself even further in your chest like he’s trying to fuse with you.

It’s kind of cute, but also nasty because you’re both so sweaty, plus your legs are dripping with drying lube and cum and you terribly badly want to shower.

The only way you’re getting him off of you is if you physically pull him off and carry him to the bathtub. Yes you have to fill it with water, yes you have to wash him, and yes he is once more all up on your fucking boobs again.

It doesn’t matter if you’re on his lap or he’s on yours, either way you’re dealing with this until you have to clean your chest, or his face.

Best believe afterwards all he’s doing is putting some boxers on, you have to change the bedsheets and after that his cozying himself all up on you, he is the little spoon no objections.

On a side note, this idea get even 10x funnier if instead reader is already apart of a crew. He knows that you’re loyal to your captain and all but like… c’mon, he’s so much better!

It’s even WORSE if your captain is Luffy or Kidd, this man is not accepting it. What do they have that he can’t literally do 100x better 😒.

Join him instead… pretty please… with a cherry on top??

—

I love this freak, please never stop talking about him with me 🙏.

Also as a Deadpool and Wolverine fan I take this as a challenge, hit me with the freakiest shot you got.

[grim-dark-confusion]

WIBTA If I took down my Word Bearer’s Shrine?

@egrets-not-regrets @kit-williams

warnings: implied stalking behavior

Long time lurker, first time poster. This is a throwaway account, in case someone tries to doxx me or whatever. I know that the title is a little iffy, but please hear me out! I need help and advice, not judgment and mean comments.

So! Some details about what’s going on: Be me, normal baseline human, early thirties.

Be not me: 9ft tall, huge buff chaos Word Bearer who crash landed in my garden three months ago.

Be also not me: the neighbor’s Ultramarine. Also Big, but less fucked up looking. 

Three months ago I became the unwilling… Host? Friend? Minder? Of a Chaos Word Bearer. He crash landed in my back garden about three months ago. He was in pretty bad shape when I came home from work at dusk. I thought he was dead, honestly.

Then I did something stupid, and approached an injured CSM I didn’t know. Please don’t yell at me for being stupid, I’ve heard it all before. But I genuinely thought he was dead! And I poked his hoof-foot-boot thing with a stick.

I nearly jumped out of my skin when his foot twitched and did scream a little. Augustus heard me (neighbor’s Ultramarine) and came running.

I don’t know if the Chaos Word Bearer had just been sleeping since he crashed in my garden, or if the presence of a loyalist just woke him up on instinct, but as soon as Augustus crossed the property boundaries, Metrik (CWB) was up on his feet and growling. He was shaking and he was favoring one of his legs pretty badly.

Then I did something else stupid…

I stepped between Auggie and Metrik, telling Augustus to back off a little. That the CWB hadn’t done anything to hurt me, and that I’d just been surprised that he was… You know… Not dead. Augustus grumbled a little but backed off and went back to his home to sulk.

After that I called the local apothecary asking for them to come check him over. While I was waiting for them to get to my home, I grabbed my first aid kit and patched him up. Of course I used gloves, as I had no idea where he’d been, nor what he’d been doing. He didn’t speak any English of course, but my phone was able to use a translator app and we were able to get by with it’s version of Astartes-speak.

I.. Uhm. May have made another mistake and fed him. BUt he said he was hungry and he’d taken off his helmet and was giving me big sad golden brown eyes and what else was I supposed to do? I fed him a pack of hot dogs and brought him a pitcher of water.

THe app said that he was grateful for my hospitality. THe apothecary showed up and they bundled him off. I had thought that would be the end of it…

Then three weeks later, CWB - whose name he told me then was Metrik - asked if he could repay my kindness and helping with the damage he did to my garden. I agreed, not thinking much of it at the time.

Whiiich is how I ended up with a very large and pointy roommate. Which is whatever, as Metrik is pretty clean and nice! Even if he does have growl-contests with Augustus over the fence.

Yesterday I was doing a deep-clean of the house and found that someone - probably Metrik - built a shrine to me. In the basement of my own house. It looks like it’s been there for a while. There are pictures of me sleeping and at work from angles that make me very uncomfortable.

I don’t. I don’t know what to do. I really want to take it down because it feels creepy but I’m worried that it will set Metrik off. I’ve heard that CWB don’t take kindly to their altars being disturbed but. Uhhhh. 

Yeah. Help! ;A;

[chamberofthespirit]

I'm a Catholic, lets yap about Satan ✧

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Let's face it, movies lie.

They lie about a lot of things, like that the pentagram is the symbol of demons and that witchcraft immediately means Satanic.

Movies lie that all nuns are abusive and cruel, they lie that Jesus was a white man, etc. They lie that Satanist sacrifice children and animals, they lie that all Satanists belong to a cult, they lie that all Satanists are up for assault.

Sadly, it's rare to see a Christian have a real conversation with a Satanist that doesn't involve fighting, ridicule, and attempts to convert the individual. How many of these Christians go off of the movies and assume the information is straight out of the history books? Sadly, a lot. Christians will also see a video of a girl spitting up into a bowl, crying, and screaming and immediately jump into the conclusion that she must be possessed by an evil force rather than considering the person has a disability or doing it for attention.

Satan doesn't want to kill you nor does he want to possess you

Does Satan like God? No. Does he want to psychically harm you just because you like God? Also no. In all real exorcisms, it's usually always a angry demon, never Satan. Satan converted the fallen angels to follow in his path but not to literally follow his every move, they were all just sent to hell together, that doesn't make Satan their ruler pursue.

Forgot who made Satan?

Christians say they know God created Satan but have they truly acknowledged it? What is "pure evil" exactly? Someone could commit threaten someone with a gun one night and then help an old lady across the street the very next day, get where I'm going?

Satan was God's favorite. God built him to be his favorite. Satan was built on grace but also with his own free will to think whatever he wants, which is why he was capable of choosing not to follow his Father. Have you ever heard a Satanist say that Satan told them to hurt a Christian? Probably not. Satan looks more towards basic trying to persuade people into converting to his side but he never has had assaulted them over it because he is still built on grace. His grace that still lingers inside him, is the exact reason why most Satanists follow Satanic rules that somewhat match the rules of Christianity.

I have talked to Satan in the past. He's not a threat or terrifying.

In the past, when I was still lost on how I wanted my beliefs to be, I tried talking to Satan through tarot. Not once did he ever treat me like I was scum all because I also liked his brother, Gabriel. Satan did have a slight additude but also humor and just regular conversation. All that happened was a fued between Michael and Satan in the conversation, which Gabriel dipped cause he was tired of dealing with them, it felt nothing like just a sibling fued. Nothing too crazy, basically seemed like a roasting battle.

STOP HATING ON SATANISTS BECAUSE THEY AREN'T ACTUALLY BAD PEOPLE. LOVE THY NEIGHBOR AND STOP ACTING LIKE SATAN IS GOING TO DO ANYTHING TO YOU!!

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[d-is-humming]

Lullaby and an elephant in the room

Bucky Barnes x Reader (platonic)

Summary: James Barnes has nightmares; his neighbor has insomnia. Maybe with a lullaby, things can get better.

Warnings: (I would say none, but to be sure) nightmares, insomnia.

Hello dear, apparently I'm trying again to write in english. There will probably be mistakes and some repetition, I'm sorry. This came out more as a scenario than a real story, but I needed to take this idea out of my head and here it is. Also, I don't really know why the metaphor of the elephant took so much space. The song quoted is Come wander with me by Agua de Annique e Anneke van Giersbergen, I heard it on Spotify and it stuck in my head. Enjoy (I hope). D.

•°*”˜¯`´¯˜”*°*”˜¯`´¯˜”*°*”˜¯`´¯˜”*°•

One last scream.

And then silence, mixed with frantic breathing. His torture has ended, for tonight. He will probably wait for daytime watching the empty walls of his room or swallowing whatever is on tv, everything just to not fall asleep again.

On the other side of the wall, you take a long breath, but it’s not relief. Sitting against the headboard of your bed, knees to your chest and your head on them, you want to relax, to let your anxiety dissolve, but the last half an hour of someone else’s nightmares has left you with a deep uneasiness. You think to yourself, the worst part it’s not being awaken in the middle of the night by the screams, even when you’ve just closed your eyes after hours of your own insomnia. You surrender to another sleepless night, watching your still empty room walls or anything is on tv.

In the morning, when you and Sargent Barnes cross paths outside your adjacent rooms, you politely greet each other with a nod of the head, ignoring the elephant in the room, not wanting to embarrass each other. You have no right to meddle; he has no intention of acknowledging with a co-worker, a stranger, his own problems.

And again, another night, another day, another nod of the head, another week and another again.

It's been almost a month and the lack of proper rest it’s getting you. You already had a bad sleeping habit before moving to your room at the compound, but at least you didn’t have to cope with the infectious anxiety of a traumatized neighbor. You’re not blaming him, you would never. But it became a problem.

Because the worst part of it's not being awaken in the middle of the night; it's not even the screams themselves. It’s that they’re incessant, continuous, lasting minutes, hours, sometimes more. Entire sessions of skin-crawling screams and dreadful cries, with intervals of dire silence, when you’re not sure if the man next door is finally resting or if he’s in one of those dreams where your mouth just can’t produce sounds and you feel like drowning.

In the dark room, you press your hands a little harder on your hears. You already tried with tv or music, or just earplugs, but somehow knowing the screams were just hidden made them worse. Made you feel guilty – for listening to something so intimate without permission and because you can’t do anything for the man.

Still covering your ears, you quietly start humming the first song that comes to your mind, more to soothe your nerves than to cover his cries.

He said / Come wander with me, love / Come wander with me / Away from this sad world / Come wander with me

It’s really not much, but enough to distract you, so you keep singing, softly, ending the song and repeating it again. You manage to lose yourself in the melody, to loosen your tense body in the hypnotic repetition, letting your voice grow a bit firmer, a little less affected by the nightmare next door. After a while silence comes from the other room. You sing some more, slowly turning to humming and finally falling asleep.

Next door, Sargent Barnes has just awakened and while he tries to remember how to breathe, he listens to your voice and, somehow, tonight it seems a tiny bit easier finding his foot on this world again.

In the morning, when you and James Barnes cross paths, you politely greet each other with a nod of the head. You’ve become good colleagues, you work well together, grew a bit closer, even though you’re not properly friends. Therefore, the elephant stays in the room, unbothered. You know he goes to therapy and you still don’t feel the right to meddle; he’s still too ashamed of waking up every night his nice neighbor.

And again, another nightmare, another song, another day, another nod of the head, another week and another again.

You’ve started to sing every night, a bit longer following the last cry before he wakes, a silent agreement to sing him to sleep that you two sign every morning with your polite nod of the head. It seems like he has started to scream a bit less. He awakens a little easier from his nightmares and, apparently, he’s also getting some proper sleep after. You feel more at ease, your faithful insomnia is still there, but you’re getting more sleep too.

Months pass by and in the end you and Bucky become friends. You still nod your head politely in the morning, then you go on with your days spending time together, be it for training of for fun. Bucky’s still going to therapy, more willingly than the first times, and you’re just happy to know he’s feeling better; he is a bit shy of telling you he’s falling asleep every night listening to your sweet voice. That's why your elephant stays there.

But even your polite elephant can't remain silent forever. A mission gone particularly wrong makes more demons resurface from the depths of slumber and the worst nightmare in a while echoes through the wall separating you from one of your best friends. Dread fills you again, a feeling you hadn't in months.

You slowly walk to your shared wall and rest your head on it. You don’t know if it will help, but you can’t - you don’t want to ignore him. Softly, you start to sing.

He said / Come wander with me, love / Come wander with me / Away from this sad world / Come wander with me

The first times you tried to sing during Bucky’s nightmares, it was to survive. It was selfish. Then it became something like a mutual secret, a tool for the both of you to reach the end of the night as unscathed as possible. And now, now it’s an act of love, your way to try and protect him from something you can’t save him from.

He came from the sunset / He came from the sea / He came from my sorrow / And can love only me

You sing as sweetly as you’re capable of, but you feel more powerless at every cry that resonates in the room, your heart being torn together with his.

You don’t know how many times you start the song again, crying, your voice quivering. You’re scared but, finally, the screams turn into crying. You’re almost relieved when you hear him awake and weeping. You collapse against the wall, tears streaming freely down your cheeks, but keep on humming gently, because you don’t want to leave him alone.

Maybe an hour passes and you don’t hear sounds coming from the other room. You stopped crying but grief fills your heart. You swore years ago to never leave alone the people you love and yet, there you were, hating a wall and yourself for not being able to help a friend.

Then, a sound so soft you would have missed it. A door closing. Some silence. A knock on your door. You bolt on your feet to open it: Bucky stands there and though you can’t really see his face in the dark, you know he’s stressed.

-Can you sing for me, doll, please?

He’s voice is so thin your heart breaks. You take his hand gently and guide him to sit on your bed. You sit close enough for him to reach at you, if he wants. Softly, you start again.

He said / Come wander with me, love / Come wander with me

He tentatively reaches for your hand and you take it, starting to caress it tenderly, with a regular rhythm. You can feel his ragged breathing evening a bit.

Away from this sad world / Come wander with me

He came from the sunset / He came from the sea

He’s trembling slightly, silently crying. You don’t leave his hand, repeating the short lullaby again.

He came from my sorrow / And can love only me

Oh where is the wanderer / Who wandered this way

A third and a fourth and a fifth times you sing for him. At a certain point he’s rested his head on your thighs and you’ve felt the tears through the fabric of your pants. You gently move your fingers through his hair and slowly, so slowly, his body starts to relax, his breathing now regular.

/ He’s passed on his wandering / And will never go away

He sang of a sweet love / Of dreams that would be ...

You softly turn to humming the last verses of the song, rocking both of you to sleep, and, after a while, the soldat seems to find peace, leaving the man to rest.

Tomorrow, you will gently acknowledge the elephant that lived in your rooms for too long. But, for now, you will enjoy your slumber.

[dyns33]

Flufftober 2024 - 19 Shane Walsh

Shane had been called to the building for a disturbance at night.

When he had heard the mission, he had sighed, thinking that it was perfectly ridiculous and probably coming from a grumpy old man.

Because it seemed rather normal that there would be noise and partying on Halloween night. It was not even midnight yet.

If he could have, Shane would not have worked that night. He would have gone to a bar or he would have found a place to dance until morning. Hell, he might have been in that building, screaming like a maniac with the others.

But Rick had begged him to let him have this evening, so that he could spend it with Carl hunting for candy, and since he adored his best friend and his son, he could not say no.

So he was alone, dealing with drunks and lost kids for part of the night, then waiting in his car for daylight to come because nothing more would happen, and he could go home, where he would fall asleep alone as always.

Obviously, the person who had made the call must also have been alone, and either too old to give an address, or too stupid to think that playing a prank on the police would be terribly funny, or too impatient, but there was no noise when Shane arrived at the floor indicated in the call.

Having to follow the procedure, even if it really seemed totally useless, he went to knock on the door of the so-called nighttime disturbance.

A young woman dressed like a witch opened it. Quite pretty, and clearly a bit drunk.

"Good evening, Miss. Officer Walsh. Sorry to disturb you so late, but a neighbor has…"

"Oh. Is it my birthday ?"

"What ?"

"I don't remember ordering a stripteaser. But I also don't remember how many shots I had, so… Or is it my friends ? To make up for abandoning me ? We were supposed to have fun together and they all canceled at the last minute. I had prepared for hours, I look ridiculous."

After greeting him with a huge smile, probably mainly due to the alcohol and the misunderstanding about his job, she began to sob. Uncomfortable, Shane didn't really know what to do.

Timidly, he patted her shoulder, reassuring her that she didn't look ridiculous at all.

"You're very beautiful. If I saw you at a party, I would have come to talk to you."

"Really ? Are stripteasers allowed to flirt with their clients ?"

"I'm not… Listen, Miss."

"Y/N."

"Y/N. A pretty name, for a pretty girl. Don't cry over a little Halloween party. You'll have other parties, with real great friends, and lots of guys who will drool at your feet. But for tonight, a nice herbal tea, pajamas and to bed, okay ?"

"Orders of sexy officer Walsh ?" she purred.

"Yes, exactly."

"Do I get a kiss before I go to sleep ?"

It really wasn't the procedure, but Shane quickly placed a kiss on her cheek, wishing her goodnight. The little minx took the opportunity to feel his ass while snickering, which made him smile.

"And a phone number maybe ?" she asked before closing the door.

"Call the Atlanta station and ask for Shane."

"Okay !"

The next day, he was surprised to get a call from Y/N, now sober and ashamed after remembering what had happened, understanding that he was a real cop. He reassured her, saying that he had found her adorable and that there was no problem. The best intervention of his evening.

And when he would meet her outside of his shift, he would go talk to her.

[writeforfandoms]

Superhero

For Gazfest, hosted by the amazing @glitterypirateduck

Prompts: Roommate and "Stay still."

You're thrilled to find your roommate came home sooner than expected, but something is weighing on him.

Warnings: Swearing, yearning, Feels, idiots in love.

Word count: 2.3k

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick x f!reader

You almost didn't notice the boots by the front door, except you accidentally kicked one of them. You swore softly and then grinned. Boots meant Kyle was back. 

"Kyle?" You called into the apartment, leaving your own shoes haphazardly dropped next to his boots. You didn't hear a response, so you paused in the hallway between your two rooms. 

You couldn't hear anything coming from his bedroom. Maybe he was taking a nap. Or out. 

Huffing at your disappointment, you opened the door to your room, intending to get into more comfortable clothes to do some baking. Honestly. You weren't some school girl with a crush. 

You were an adult with a crush. 

But really, who could blame you? Kyle was as close to perfect as anyone could get - brave, funny, witty, snarky at times. A great guy, really. Anyone would be lucky to have him. 

You walked into the kitchen, humming to yourself as you started pulling out ingredients for baking. You should probably make real food too at some point, but that was a later problem. 

You were just mixing the sugar and butter when you heard footsteps, and turned to watch Gaz settle heavily into one of the two chairs at the tiny table. Your heart sank - he looked awful. Tired. Hurt. 

"Hi," you murmured, holding on to your cheer for the moment. "When did you get home?"

"Couple hours ago." He managed a little smile for you, but it didn't reach his eyes. "Was a last minute thing." 

You nodded, looking back at the dough. "Have you eaten?"

"You don't have to mother me." There was the faintest hint of irritation to his tone. 

You blinked, lips parting in surprise. "Is that what you think I'm doing?" You asked softly, leaving the fork in the bowl to cross over in front of him. You crouched next to him, tipping your head to look up at him. 

He didn't answer, the twist of his lips at once stubborn and regretful. But he wouldn't respond further, you knew from experience. Damn stubborn man. 

"Kyle." You risked resting one hand on his knee, light, easy to dislodge. "I would do this for any friend, and especially one as important to me as you are." You fought past your embarrassment at being so openly emotional, forcing yourself to hold his gaze. "Okay?"

His shoulders relaxed and he blew out a breath. "Okay," he agreed, his hand landing over yours, holding you in place. "I'm sorry." 

"Don't be." You smiled up at him, squeezing his knee gently. "But if you insist, you can make it up to me by helping me eat these cookies." 

He laughed, quiet and much more relaxed. "Well, that sounds horrible," he agreed cheerfully. "Might have to twist my arm, love." 

Your heart clenched at the easy pet name. He'd been calling you that for months now, and you'd convinced yourself it didn't mean anything. "I know," you agreed, matching his amusement. "That's why it's your punishment." 

You stood, and he released you. "Gonna hang out with me while I finish these up?" 

"'Course," he agreed quickly, watching as you got back to the cookie dough. Fortunately it was no worse the wear for having been temporarily abandoned. 

This was easier. You caught him up on everything he'd missed while you finished up the cookie dough. (Your next door neighbors were gone now after a screaming match loud enough the entire floor heard, work was fine but boring, you'd received a wedding invitation for an old friend.) You even tossed him a few chocolate chips just to watch his eyes crinkle as he caught them. 

He didn't tell you where he'd been. He never did. Safer for everyone, he'd told you. (You also had the feeling he wasn't allowed to tell you.) But he did update you on the latest of Soap's shenanigans, and the pranks he'd pulled off. 

By the time he'd caught you up on hiding all of Price's cigars, leaving you in stitches, the oven was beeping at you that the cookies were done. You pulled them out and immediately brandished the spatula at Kyle. 

"Don't even think about it," you warned him. "Five minutes." 

"Would I do such a thing, love?" Kyle held his hands up in surrender, but you knew better. You narrowed your eyes at him. 

"Yes."

He paused and then shrugged, apparently deciding against trying to defend himself. 

"You thinking of going to the wedding?" He asked instead, leaning back in his chair, apparently to show you he wasn't planning mischief. 

"Dunno yet. I need to check on some things first." You bit your lip, tapping your fingers against the counter. 

"Keep me updated, yeah?" He stretched one leg out to nudge your ankle. 

"I will, I will." You rolled your eyes and started plating up cookies. "How long are you home?" 

"Three weeks." He shrugged. "Plenty of time." 

"Excellent." You set the cookies in front of him and sat across from him, letting him take a cookie and watching eagerly for his first bite. 

He groaned softly in appreciation, eyes closing. "Still the best damn cookies," he mumbled through a mouthful of cookie. 

"Flatterer." You smiled, taking a cookie and biting into it. Still warm from the oven. Yum. 

The rest of the evening passed in warmth and laughter and too many cookies. You both migrated to the couch eventually as rain pattered against the windows, turning on something mindless for background noise. 

When Kyle pulled you closer, you didn't object. When you threw your legs over his lap, he didn't object. When he offered a blanket, you made sure you both cuddled up under it together. 

You woke up to your alarm going off, warm and still wrapped up in the blanket and Kyle on the couch. He groaned softly, head lifting as he blinked blearily. 

"Shit, I'm sorry." You tugged at the blanket, hot and embarrassed and far too comfortable. 

"Don't be," he muttered, voice rough with sleep still. The sound made you even warmer, aching just a little. "Need to go?"

"Work," you agreed with a little smile, still embarrassed. 

"Mmkay." He squeezed you gently before helping remove the blanket. You hissed at the cold air on your skin, and he immediately grabbed you again. 

"I wish I didn't have to go." You let the admission fall softly between you two, one hand curling around his arm. 

"You've got tomorrow off, yeah?" He rested his forehead against your temple. 

"All weekend, yeah." 

"Then we'll make a day of it. Anything you wanna do." 

"Okay." You drew in a deep breath. "Okay." You leaned harder into him for a moment. This was just riding the edge of too much, so tempting and so close. 

But you forced yourself to pull away before you could do something foolish, like kiss him. 

Work absolutely dragged, partially because Fridays were always slow, and partially because you were eager to get back home.

Especially because he'd texted you after lunch telling you not to worry about dinner. 

Silly, beautiful man. Probably trying to spoil you. Again. 

Finally, you shut off your computer for the weekend and headed home, not quite bouncing but close. 

Really, nobody could blame you for being so excited to see Kyle. Even though you had three whole weeks (maybe) to enjoy time with him. 

The trip home was both faster and longer than normal - longer because you had something to look forward to, shorter because you were so distracted you didn't notice the passage of time as acutely. 

"I'm home," you called as you opened the door, looking around for any kind of hint as to what he had planned for the two of you. Your shoes went next to his, more neatly this time. 

"How was work?" He didn't emerge from his room, calling to you. Temptation was too strong to resist, his voice the only siren song you cared for. 

"Fine," you answered, padding back towards the bedrooms. You paused in the hallway, looking on his open door to find him in slacks and a button down. His back was to you, giving you a chance to unabashedly stare at the breadth of his shoulders, the obvious strength there. You swallowed hard. "What's the occasion?"

"I'm taking you out." He half-turned to look at you, gaze warm. "If that's alright?"

Your heart thrummed in your chest, pulling towards him. "Of course," you agreed quickly. "Where are we going?"

"It's a surprise." He winked at you. 

You laughed, as you knew you were supposed to, and retreated to your room to change into something to match him. You just had to trust that he wouldn't lead you astray. 

(What a joke. Like you didn't already trust him with every bit of you.) 

Finally ready, you stepped out of your room. Kyle's eyes went wide from his spot on the couch, and his lips parted, just a little. His Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed, getting to his feet. 

"You look… great," he murmured, stepping closer to you. "Gonna tempt me into taking you out all the time." 

You ducked your head a bit, smiling, pleased. "I'll keep that in mind," you murmured, stopping in front of him. 

Kyle held out a hand to you. "Ready?"

"Ready," you agreed, smiling. Your hand fit into his, his skin warm and a little rough against yours. 

The trip was easy, Kyle staying close to you. The restaurant was one you'd normally never go to, nice and more expensive than you'd go for. But Kyle tugged gently at your linked hands before you could protest, leveling those big brown eyes at you like the most effective weapon. You caved without a word, letting him lead you inside. 

The host showed you straight back to a table for two by a window. Kyle even helped you into your seat. 

The two of you chatted easily through ordering drinks and food. (You winced a little at the prices but didn't say anything. Kyle still gave you a smile and quietly encouraged you to order whatever you wanted.) 

"Can I ask what prompted all this?" You leaned forward towards him, watching him carefully. Not only because it was so good to be able to see him after a few months of only the occasional picture, but also because you could usually read his expressions. 

He paused, chewing his lip, not meeting your gaze. "This last mission…" He paused there, momentarily struggling for words. "It ended okay, but… it was close. Too close." 

You slid one hand across the table, palm up, in silent offering. He squeezed your hand with a little smile. 

"Cap pushed me, actually," he continued, a little softer now. "Told me to stop waffling about you." 

"About me?" You blinked, caught off guard. "You talk to them about me?" 

"So much that Soap tells me to shut up," Kyle admitted with a little laugh. 

You smiled. "So, Price nudged you into this?" You prompted gently. 

"Sort of. More like he gave me the little push I needed." Kyle drew in a deep breath, holding your gaze across the table. "Been wanting to take you out for ages." 

"We go out," you tested. Carefully. This was delicate territory, you needed to proceed with caution. 

"Not like this." He bit his lip again before squeezing your hand. "Not like a date." 

Your breath caught in your chest, eyes going wide. "...A date?" You couldn't keep the hopeful note out of your voice if you tried. 

"Yeah." Kyle watched you every bit as carefully as you watched him. 

"I suppose now is a good time to admit I've wanted to ask you on a date for months?" You smiled hopefully, squeezing his hand. 

It was his turn to pause, eyes wide. Then he snorted, ducking his head briefly to hide his grin. "What a pair we are, huh?" 

You laughed quietly, letting go of his hand only so the waiter could put your plates down. "Remind me to buy your captain something nice for nudging you here." 

Kyle grinned, bright and happy and playful. "Solid plan, he'll appreciate you more than he already does." 

You beamed at him. "You really talk about me to them?" 

He nodded, a little abashed. "At least as much as I talk to you about them." 

"That's adorable, Kyle." You grinned at him. 

He huffed but smiled, apparently too happy to be embarrassed. Not that you could blame him - you felt much the same way. 

The two of you ended up playing footsie under the table all through dinner, playfully tapping each other's ankles and trapping feet. Your heart couldn't stop fluttering. 

Kyle insisted on paying, and held your hand all the way home. 

"Any other plans I should know about?" You asked, even as you unlocked the front door.

"Nah." Kyle grinned, right on your heels as you walked in. "Figured I'd leave that up to you." 

"I've got an idea where we can start," you murmured, turning to face him. "Stay still." Before he could ask, you reached up to cup his face in your hands, taking a moment to just look. He really was beautiful. 

And then you kissed him. It was everything you'd ever hoped and more. 

"Excellent idea," Kyle murmured when you finally pulled back, both of you a little out of breath. "I think we should do that more." 

"I agree." You pulled him back in to kiss him again. Hopefully you'd do a lot of that this weekend. 

[nateconnolly]

When I was fourteen, I asked Grandma to sue for custody over me and my brother. She would probably have won, too. Our neighbors had called the sheriffs more than once when they heard the screaming. I denied everything, but it all got written down anyways. The court could subpoena those records, I would honestly testify in court, and that would be the end of it. 

We were stargazing in her back yard. She drank whiskey. She wouldn’t let me have any, even though I drank with Dad all the time, so I had a Pepsi. I carried two lawn chairs out into the darkness. Only it wasn’t really darkness. On the eve of a full moon, I could see the smallest lines of the bar code on my soda can. That night was a new moon without clouds. Nothing to obscure the stars. 

For years, I had wanted to ask Grandma to adopt us, but I never found the courage. The idea just burned inside my head. I dreamed of leaving home and living with her; instead, the words had always died in my throat. Impossible to speak, impossible to keep inside. 

That night, Toby was sleeping like a rock inside, my soda was sweet, the stars were shining, and I thought, I want to be here every night. So I decided to finally tell Grandma what I wanted.

“I want to stay with you.”

“You can stay the night. We’ll just go in and call your father to let him know where you are.” 

“No. I want to stay here permanently.”

Grandma didn’t say a word.

“I want you to sue for custody,” I said. 

“Jesus, Jasper…” she said. “What do you think that would do to your father?”

“He’d have two less mouths to feed.”

“And two more holes in his heart.” 

“He doesn’t love me.”

“Of course he loves you.”

I swallowed. I had already admitted my deepest fantasy—that Grandma would take me and my brother away—and suddenly, I found that I couldn’t keep secrets anymore. Once I allowed the dam to crack, the flood was inevitable. I said something I had never admitted to anyone before. 

“He hits me.” I waited for Grandma to react. “He hits me hard. Way too hard.” 

I stared into my grandmother’s agonized eyes, hoping she would solve all my problems, but she just stared back at me in silence.

“Yesterday, he put out a cigarette on my chest.” I pulled up my t-shirt and showed her the burn on my ribs. “Just because I forgot to take out the trash.”

She still didn’t say anything. I could see her heart slowly breaking apart. 

But I also saw that she wasn’t going to intervene. 

I had always assumed my grandmother actually would try to take me and Toby once she knew how Dad treats us. I thought I only had to work up the courage to  ask. If she knew, she would stop it. She would save me. But she had always known, hadn’t she?

Grandma ruffled my hair. 

“When I was a young woman, not much older than you, I would drive to Utah every winter and backpack in the Uintas,” she said. “Completely alone. Sometimes, I would be out there for more than two weeks. The hardest part came halfway through the trip. There was this twelve-mile-long stretch of land without ponds or rivers, which meant that I couldn’t stop and sleep. If I slept, I would wake up without water, and I would die. Once I set out through the dry land, I had to keep moving. No matter what. 

“You know how I got through it? I would pick a tree close in front of me, and I would let myself think of nothing else. That tree was the center of every thought in my head. I told myself, ‘You only have to make it to that tree. Then you can stop.’ And it helped, even though it wasn’t true. If I told myself to walk twelve miles, I would drop dead. But I told myself that I only had to walk a few feet to the next tree — and I told myself that at least a thousand times. That mantra got me through it. Because walking to the tree feels like nothing, and by the time you’ve reached it, you feel strong enough to reach the next.” 

She put her hand on my shoulder. “Just one more tree, kiddo.”

Full story free here

[phoxey]

Decide.

Lusher x Bebe!reader

This is part one, for part two click here

CW: Very angsty. toxic. homophobia.

AN: This is the Angst oneshot i promised my favourite Anon. Enjoy!

Seoyoung and you were known as the power couple within Bebe. You two had known each other since you were toddlers, your moms being best friends and neighbors. It was only natural for the both of you to become the same. You were best friends through both of your entire school careers. You two even started dancing together one day.

During Highschool you two got impossibly closer, through your family abandoning you as soon as you came out as a lesbian to them. Seoyoung’s family took you in and not much later you ended up confessing your feelings to your best friend, who promptly became your girlfriend. You became inseparable.

Your relationship wasn’t public, but SWF2 fans were quickly catching up on the sweet little interactions between the two of you. There were rumors about the two of you immediately after the first episode aired. But with the rumors, the comments started.

Lusher wouldn’t be with an ugly ass girl like her…

Fucking lesbians,,, so fucking disgusting

Lusher is wayyyyyyyyyyy too pretty…

Bada x Lusher >>>>> YN x Lusher

YN doesnt have a good character or visual… don’t know what Lusher sees in her.

And those were only the tame comments, that didn’t get filtered by the algorithm. You could also see the comments and DMs, that the public didn’t get to see. Wishing Lusher would break up with you, suggesting Lusher cheating on you with Tatter or Bada, death threats even…

They took a toll on your mental health, even though you knew that Seoyoung would never listen to the comments. She even told you to not mind them.

“It’s hard not to mind them. They are practically screaming it into my face.”, you sighed.

Seoyoung took your hand. “They will stop one day, I promise. After SWF2 is over, they will probably lose interest in us, so we just have to make it until then.”

She smiled gently and kissed your intertwined fingers as tears rolled down your face.

“We will get through this, okay? I promise.”, she said and you nodded slowly, giving her a weak smile.

But the comments didn’t stop or get less. They only got more.

They made you hyperaware of your every interaction with the members and especially Seoyoung. You tried keeping your distance and control your face around her. She usually always made you smile with her mere existence. But you couldn’t help hearing the comments. They were haunting your head, day and night.

Every time Seoyoung initiated intimacy you blocked her off, you weren’t in the mood. Not when the comments only said that she was too good for you.

During dance practice you were exhausted easily and hotheaded. You choreographed one part of the mega crew mission and were so short tempered that you even ended scolding Cheche and Kyma so harshly, that they ended up crying. Bada grabbed your arm and dragged you out into the hallway.

“What the hell was that?”, Bada said angrily.

“What? They kept making mistakes!”, you defended yourself.

“So? No reason to scream at them!”, Bada answered.

“I have explained it over and over. It’s not that hard, they should get it.”, you huffed.

“You know what? I think you can’t teach your choreography well right now. I think we should change the choreographer.”, Bada said.

You widened your eyes. “Bada! You can’t do that!”

“I can! And I will… I am the leader. And I will do what is best for all the girls. You are not in the right mind to choreograph.”, she said and went back into the practice room.

Frustrated you walked into the Bebe hideout and kicked against the couch and threw a pillow into the corner of the room. Fuming you stood there for a moment.

You heard the door open and felt arms wrap around you, but you immediately pulled out.

“Don’t touch me, Seoyoung.”, you hissed.

Pain was in her eyes. “Who are you?”, she whispered.

“Seoyoung, don’t fucking do this to me now.”, you groaned.

“Do what? It’s true! I can’t recognize my own girlfriend anymore!”, Seoyoung said calmly, her face changing from sadness to anger.

“Well, then maybe you should listen to your fans and finally break up with me, since I’m such an insufferable human being.”, you huffed.

“Please. Don’t be like that. You are being unfair.”

“I am being the unfair one? Really? I have been holding out! Silently accepting their comments. You don’t even see how the affect me. You just go around and enjoy their love and you happily pay the price. You pay for their love with my suffering! I think you are unfair.”

“Baby…”

“Don’t fucking ‘Baby’ me, Seoyoung. I have to watch you being friendly to the people that hate me.”

“It’s not like that. Please listen to me.”

“I listened enough. You don’t care about what they do to me.”

“I do! I just can’t change it! Not without admitting the rumors.”

“Then let’s go public. Defend me. Fucking fight for me. Just once.”, you said then.

Seoyoung shook her head, unbelieving.

“We would hurt Bebe if we go public. Just wait a little longer. After the competition, we go public. I promise.”, she practically begged.

“Are you ashamed of me?”

“No! I love you!”

“Then tell the world.”

“Baby, please. Bebe-…”

“Bebe or me, Seoyoung.”

Her eyes widened. “You are not doing this to me right now.”

“I am.”, your eyes were cold.

“You are joking.”

“Decide.”

[stormblessed95]

Jimins Billboard Live!

This is the sweetest, cutest man ever. Just casually looks like PERFECTION at 3 am while sick. The only person who could ever honestly.

He was soooo cute. I'm not going to get into it, really at all. I'm just noting the things we've all noted in regards to jikook. And then moving on.

I saw some people saying they heard JKs voice during this live in the background/JM talking to someone quietly. I disagree, but that's fine. It's just barely there noise. People can think of that what they will. What I DO want to point out and giggle over just a little is the stupid I'm ___ wife" jokes. Lol he pretend greeted Taehyungs wife and Yoongis wife. And then gave the joke up when someone once again claimed to be JKs wife. He went from chuckling, to a smile still but basically told us no. 🤣 "I think Jungkook is asleep right now"

It's giving the same energy as saying "if that's your man, why is he in my bed? 🤨" And I was cracking up! Side note, these comments are stupid and aren't funny anymore. The jokes gone too far. Please stop being weird about it

Also a mention of Jimin saying he doesn't want to scream and be too loud because he is at home, not at a studio or the company. When sweet Hobi was encouraging him to celebrate big and loud. I know those apartments he and Joon bought are freaking huge and probably built very well. I don't think he really has to worry too much about neighborly noise complaints. Lol just being a good neighbor here Jimin? He would be overly considerate about that kinda stuff I'm sure 😂

And Jimin is so private. Lmao everyone lost their shit over being able to tell of his curtains and that he owns 2 gaming chairs 🤣 he keeps his shit locked down!

One chair with a neck pillow, one without. And the neck pillow was the same one that JK uses in his studio at the company. On a chair that is a different brand. But the neck pillow matches the brand of chairs from Jimins home. Interesting coincidence if nothing else. Lol

Now that Jimin is home more and isn't practically living with his producers and having an insanely tiring schedule, think they are having sleepovers more often again? Lol who knows! Certainly not me!

If nothing else, it's really cute that they are once again matching in gaming chair accessories. Lmao they must shop together 🤣

Anyways, watch the live if you haven't. Jimin is the sweetest person alive. He deserves the world. And I hope he is feeling better now 💜

[just-some-random-blogger]

May i request a sandman fic where Dream is forced to interact with children, preferably with Death

(also, despite death being there, could you perhaps not make it depressing)

Didi's Brother

Dream of the Endless x Reader (but its mostly dream & ze baby boy)

Summary: "Di!" I rather excitedly called, grabbing the woman by the arm, "you didn't tell me your brother was hot." She laughs, "don't you think it would be rather odd if I told you 'oh, I have a hot brother.'"

Word Count: 1k+

Warnings: fem!reader, single mom!reader, Death is referred to as Didi, Dream boy Morpheus is referred to as Murphy, fluff, angst?, typos, etc.

A/N: i hope you like it!!! its pretty fluff! and also nonnie ???? it's never depressing when death is around!!! HAHAHH i made the kid a baby boy because i normally write dream in a girl dad lens. boy dad time HAHAHH Tagging: @pinksirensong @aralezinspace @sloanexx @deniixlovezelda @shadow-pancake9

The moment the boy heard a knock on the door, he scrambled in excitement and ran to the door screaming, "MUMMA, SOMEONE'S AT THE DOOR!"

Upon hearing this from the bathroom, I yell back, "okay, I'll be out in a minute. Don't open the door."

The child nodded but ran to the door anyway, checking to see who it was, pressing his cheek to the entrance. He hoped it was their neighbor. She was an old lady who always gave him sweeties (in secret).

When he doesn't hear anything, he pulls away and busts a lung out, "WHO IS IT!"

He hears a chuckle.

"It's auntie Didi!"

Oh em gee, that was even better!!!!!

"MUMMA!" the boy screams his guts out that it echoes inside the bathroom.

I sigh but chuckle. I flush and step out.

"HURRY IT'S AUNTIE DIDI! MUMMA! mUMmA! MUMMA! M U M M A !"

"Goodness," I huff as I jog towards my son, who was jumping in excitement, "give me a chance."

The moment the door opens, the boy leaps towards the dark clothed woman and strangles her legs, "HIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII!"

Both of us look down and chuckle at the boy. Didi brushes his wispy hair back and gently pinches his cheek, "hello, Benji."

"HI, AUNTIE DIDI!"

I lean in and hug the woman, "hey, Didi, thanks for coming."

Didi chckles, "happy to watch this sweetheart."

When we pull away, I then lock eyes with the man behind her. My lips part at his dark eyeliner, sharp cheekbones, and messy hair, "oh... hello there."

"Greetings," he says, lips barely curving into a smile.

Didi turns over her shoulder, "this is my brother, Murphy."

"Oh," I say, unable to take my eyes off him, but do so rather reluctantly.

"I hope you don't mind. He's going to be babysitting with me today."

Upon hearing this, Benji pulls away from Didi and peeks behind her, examining the tall man. Seeing that he looks quite similar to his beloved auntie Didi, with their goth aesthetics, he agrees with himself that he's probably going to be just as fun as her.

This was how Murphy became Benji's right-hand construction man as he busied himself in the livingroom, building a fort.

"HMMM," he hums loudly, "I think you should up and-" he fixes the pillow walls, "-and- and get mumma's pillows because it's falling!"

"Benji, no," I call as I hear this. I adjust my coat on my shoulders as I head for the door, "just use the pillows here."

Benji whines as his right hand man kneels down next to him to keep the pillows from falling. The boy protests, "but mumma!!!!"

"If you want him to get the pillows, you have to go up with him," I say as Didi chuckles at the child, "and you have to ask him politely."

Benji beams and immediately yanks Murphy from the fort, making it topple down, "uncle Murphy, can we please, please, please get some pillows upstairs."

"Benji," I warn.

Murphy stands and nods, "very well."

Benji excitedly drags him with all his strength, "we can get the stuffed toys too!!!! MR. SNUFFALUFFAGUS!"

I watch as Murphy bends to allow the boy to drag him by the hand up the stairs. I turn to Didi, who is also watching them go upstairs.

Because of the boys short legs, it takes rather long for them to climb the steps one by one. Murphy pulls his hand out of the boy's grip to hold him on both arms, "would you like to hold on the hand rails, Benjamin?"

Benji turns to Murphy and reaches out to him instead, "carry?"

Murphy stills for a moment, but then picks up the child, craddling him in his arms. Something happens to my heart as I watch him climb the stairs with my baby. Once they are at the top, my stomach flurries at the sight of him tickling my son sweetly.

"Di!" I rather excitedly called, grabbing the woman by the arm, "you didn't tell me your brother was hot."

She laughs, "don't you think it would be rather odd if I told you 'oh, I have a hot brother.'"

I burst into a fit of laughter, "point taken."

Didi giggles with me.

"So... is he single?"

Didi rolls her eyes, "why don't you ask him yourself?"

I clear my throat and shake my head, "just curious..."

She raises a brow and crosses her arms.

"Are you sure it's alright for him to watch Benji with you?"

She shakes her head, "oh, you saw them. Just go already, unless you wanna be late. And anyway, I'll be right here the whole time."

Eventually, all the pillows in the house were used to fortify the castle upon the couch. Murphy was then assigned to play a monster and Didi was assigned as a fairy. Benji was obviously a knight.

"Okay," Benji points as he looks to Murphy, "destroy the castle."

He is a bit shocked, "must I? We spent much time balancing the pillows in order to stand like this."

Benji shakes his hands, "no, you have to-" but then hurtles himself into the plush pillows and destroys it himself as he growls.

Didi giggles as he watches the child do this. Murphy watches, entirely still.

Once destruction was laid upon the pillowy castle, Benji stands and then gasps, "OH NO THE MONSTER DESTROYED IT!"

Didi places a hand on her lips, holding back her laughter, "gosh. Don't you just hate it when that happens?"

Murphy finally understand his role. He crosses his arms then tilts his head, a rather threatening stance in all honesty. The prince of stories muses, "𝔫𝔬𝔱𝔥𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔯𝔢𝔪𝔞𝔦𝔫𝔰 𝔬𝔣 𝔶𝔬𝔲𝔯 𝔥𝔬𝔲𝔰𝔢. ℑ 𝔥𝔞𝔳𝔢 𝔰𝔥𝔞𝔨𝔢𝔫 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔳𝔢𝔯𝔶 𝔣𝔬𝔲𝔫𝔡𝔞𝔱𝔦𝔬𝔫𝔰 𝔬𝔣 𝔶𝔬𝔲𝔯 𝔯𝔢𝔞𝔩𝔪. 𝔔𝔲𝔞𝔨𝔢 𝔟𝔢𝔫𝔢𝔞𝔱𝔥 𝔪𝔶-" SMACK!

Benji takes a pillow and wacks it across the monster's waist in the middle of his speech.

Flabbergasted, Murphy could not do much other than accept the assualt of the Knight of Featherdown. The pillow slips out of Benji's hand because of a particularly hard hit on the man's leg. The boy then grabs the other pillows and stuffed toys, chucking it to Murphy. It barely hits the monster because of knight's poor hand-eye coordination.

Didi laughs, "the fairy will help!"

And so the knight and the fairy fight the monster until he gets the wits to grab a pillow and shield himself.

"ℑ 𝔴𝔦𝔩𝔩 𝔫𝔬𝔱 𝔟𝔢 𝔡𝔢𝔣𝔢𝔞𝔱𝔢𝔡!" Murphy proclaims, "ℑ 𝔰𝔥𝔞𝔩𝔩 𝔡𝔢𝔳𝔬𝔲𝔯 𝔶𝔬𝔲𝔯 𝔯𝔢𝔞𝔩𝔪!"

His sister translates for the boy, "sir Benji! He says he's going to eat everything!"

"NOOOOO! YOU DON'T EAT PILLOWS!"

"𝔅𝔲𝔱 ℑ 𝔞𝔪 𝔢𝔳𝔦𝔩 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔭𝔦𝔩𝔩𝔬𝔴 𝔪𝔬𝔫𝔰𝔱𝔢𝔯."

Benji growls through a giggle, "GOOD ALWAYS WINS!"

Eventually, Murphy is defeated, sprawled chest down on the carpet, a five year old sat on his back victoriously.

Benji, thoroughly excited by the turn of events, giggles as he catches his breath. He decides to mimic the man and lie chest down on Murphy's back. The latter feels his cells come alive at the feel of the boy's heartbeat.

"You are a valiant opponent, Sir Benjamin," Murphy mutters.

Didi chuckles and sits down next to them. She rubs the kid's back, "he means your a great knight, Benji."

"Indeed."

Benji turns to Didi then slides off Murphy. The boy walks over to her, "Aunti Didi."

"Yes, sweetheart?"

"Is Murphy a puppa?"

Didi blinks and turns to her brother. She places her hand on the boy's back, "why don't you ask him."

Murphy, who obviously heard this, pushes himself up and sits down, waiting to be asked.

Benji turns to him, "are you a puppa?"

He straightens his back and nods, "I am."

"Do you have a son?"

"I do."

Upon hearing this, the boy frowns, "oh."

Didi brushes the boy's hair, "why do you ask, Benji?"

Benji shakes his head and gives no response.

Lord Morhpeus does not like this, and so, he makes the child sleepy.

Benji yawns and stretches.

Didi smiles at him, "wanna take a nap?"

Benji nods.

The moment Benjamin goes to sleep, Murphy meets him in the Dreaming. The child is clad in armor and is sat upon the back of a unicorn. Murphy asks the knight what his question meant and the boy tells him he wanted to ask him to be his puppa.

Murphy thinks about the boy's words for a moment then nods, "I will be your puppa whenever you are in my realm."

Sir Benjamin, Knight of Featherdown, beams, "thank you, puppa."