#also that coming from frank 🥹🥹🥹

[raytorosaurus]

this is another one of the parts of ntlis that really stuck with me :((. part of why it irritates me when ppl overlook the role everyone in the band played to the music's themes and emotions and messages, not only gerard. they all put a lot of themselves into it. it's my chemical romance, not gerard way and the hormones - and lyrics aren't the only way for musicians to express things really deeply and earnestly.

[sweetheartsaku]

(HQ) i'll do the dishes we'll carry the load

𝜗𝜚 HAIKYUU!! VARIOUS: 𝓛ANTANA.

a/n: [fem!reader] i have 3 wips in my drafts but i chose to start a whole new one 😎

— characters : atsumu, iwaizumi, sakusa, osamu

atsumu miya ; dance with you tonight - laufey

ATSUMU MIYA GET BEHIND ME to all the people who say atsumu treats all girls like trash, (LOUD BUZZER NOISE) it is such a common headcannon he's a mommy's boy?? such a common headcannon that the twins grew up with their mother?? hello?? would most definitely treat you beyond well ⁽⁽(੭ꐦ •̀Д•́ )੭*⁾⁾ !!

bites his straw omg. samu HATES it, especially when they’re sharing drinks then he finds his fresh beverages straw on its last thread. does the same with you unintentionally, making it literally impossible to drink from LMAO. its atsumu so i let it pass

has a dimple on his left cheek, matching with his twin brother whose dimple is on the right!!! he loves when you kiss and poke it. whenever he's focused, he bites his cheek, and you can see the little dimple there too.

gets you so many little trinkets and souvenirs from when he goes to away-games, always thinking of you!! sends you pictures of sunsets he sees, gets you seashell necklaces and ones with your initials except you get his and he gets yours ♡ bokuto and hinata also try help him, but the best they could pick up was a pebble the same colour as your eyes.

"you wanna kiss me soooo bad"

hajime iwaizumi ; super rich kids - frank ocean

put his hands on your head or waist when your close or about to hit something.. like you could be getting something from under the table and his hand would protect the spot where you could hit your head on 😖💞 same thing with your waist, always holding it close so you don’t bump into strangers on the road

strong believer of sidewalk rule. will switch your places EVER so gently (IWAIZUMI HAJIME THE MAN YOU ARE). loooooves slithering his hands around your waist and adooooores the pudgy stuff under your shirt. he just finds every inch of you beautiful from the bottom to the top!!! (he js like me frfr u is gorjus bae)

would carry you when your feet/heels hurt. the INSTANT he hears a slight groan of pain he will actually already be down there unbuckling the clip of the heel LMAO. props you up on his back and holds you up with so much pride.. his favourite heels to unbuckle are valentino’s and ysl. got the valentino’s for you on your 3rd year anniversary and the ysl on your 4th. maybe he’s gonna get on one knee while he’s down there too

smells like an insane amount of axe body spray unfortunately.. sorry iwa enthusiasts

kiyoomi sakusa ; coming home - beabadoobee

really loves claw clips. whether it be on you, or on himself and literally just in general. really loves when you wear the pearlier colours, especially teal and lime mixed with yellows etc... he also likes the clips on himself when he's cleaning

haircare routine goes HARD!! always having 2 lathers of shampoo, 1 layer of conditioner then another layer of leave-in conditioner, protection products and after allat he has curl serum (he does it with a scalp massager too btw)

keeping the kita shinsuke + sakusa kiyoomi crocheting agendas up rn. as a kid his family was always prioritised with work at the hospital so he'd always just sit in the corner of the waiting room with his thoughts, till one day this elderly lady who always had weekly checkups would teach him how to crochet. he made things for his family, but they never accepted/used it, so he just stopped after elementary school. but ever since he met you, he suddenly felt his hands tug towards the hooks a little harder

favourite scents are lime and herbs, but not together. likes lemon and lime sprays, window cleaner and wipes. secondly, loves herbs because it reminds him of the grandma that taught him to crochet 🥹(screaming, crying, wailing, throwing up, bashing head on wall.)

would peel your pomegranates (he hates messes)

osamu miya ; a piece of you - nathaniel constantin

found you watching those wax slime/asmr/clay cracking/mini foods/recipes on tiktok/mukbangs ONCE, and ever since then he's been a tad more dedicated to making special sweet treats for you after closing at onigiri miya ♡

this is like on the verge of ick and cute, but he likes to boop your nose with flour or your hand while you're baking. ya'll could be kneading impossibly close, and he'll sprinkle a bit of flour on you or randomly boop your nose 😭

always carries hair ties for you. in the kitchen he can’t have them on, but anywhere else he has one on him. since he basically lives in the kitchen, he’d prefer you to just stay there with him instead LMAO. the “anywhere else” in question is wherever you desire... but adores trying new cuisines with you. the hair tie helps tie your hair back while you eat btw <3

his hands smell like dishwashing liquid, even after the endless lathers of strong candy apple hand-soap, the scent of the liquid still lingers on his hand! you can smell it when you hold it on movie nights, or kiss it goodnight hehe

has a dimple on his right cheek, except his dimple is way deeper than atsumu's. you can see it when he chews

would peel your oranges

[peggyao3]

Relic - Pt. 6 "Hungry, all the Years"

PAIRING: Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x Unnamed Ambiguous FMC

SUMMARY: ✧༺༻ Dreams are messages from the deep ༺༻✧ A woman from the unknown comes to Feyd in his dreams and his nights become his days as he flees to the dreamscape to escape the nightmares that haunt his waking hours.

TAGS: 18+, smut, she/her AFAB FMC, vaginal sex, vaginal fingering, oral sex, Porn with Plot, Feyd-Rautha's black cum, Feyd-Rautha's big cock, Praise Kink, Body Worship, angst/hurt and comfort, drama, fluff, Frank Herbert would frown, some politics, implied/referenced (child) abuse ❗, Trauma, mentions of suicidal thoughts ❗, Healing, Strangers to Lovers, falling in love, Vulnerable!Feyd, Emotional!Feyd, Possessive!Feyd, Feyd is a sweet baby who did nothing wrong and I WILL pamper him, nurture not nature, Stockholm Syndrome but in a consensual way, lucid dreaming, implied/referenced cannibalism ❗, implied/referenced murder

WORD COUNT: 3.5k

A/N: I've always wanted to yell fuck you at the Bene Gesserit, so here's to my own dream🥰 Also, me, who's been in awkward long distance relationships throughout all her teenage years: "Aahh, I knew this knowledge would come in handy someday! 🥹"

Reposted from my Ao3 💕| Masterlist under construction ⚠️| Relic Masterlist

Dividers by @saradika-graphics

← Previous Chapter, Next Chapter →

Wallach IX, one week later

"Kneel."

"Excuse me?" Incredulously, the relic stares into the Reverend Mother's eyes.

The anticipation of this day has left her sick to her stomach, her mind hysterical since she was made aware that Feyd remembers her and wants her. By noon, she will be on a heighliner. (A  heighliner! She remembers Feyd's inquiry from their last dream.) And after two days of travel, she will be with him. For the first time ever, she will be truly with him, kiss his sweet lips and be held by him and bawl her eyes out.

This is not how she imagined the hours before her indefinite departure. The reverend mother sits unmoving like a pillar of obsidian in a slant of sunlight, her face hidden beneath black mesh.

"Kneel. This is your final test."

"I'm not part of this order anymore, I won't partake in any tests."

"That is not up for you to decide."

"I will not kneel."

"Do as I say!"

Without a power of will, she falls on her knees, ears ringing, jaws slackening. No hatred has ever burned colder than the rancor she holds in the pit of her stomach right now. From the corner of her eye, she perceives a flash of metal slipping from the reverend mother's robes.

"I hold at your neck the Gom Jabbar. A poisoned needle. The slightest prick, and you will die."

The wayward woman holds the violence of a lifetime on war-riddled Old Earth in her eyes when she inhales, the rise of her shoulders bringing her neck dangerously close to the poison tip.

"Why?"

"That needn't interest you." She has not been and will not be informed about the breeding program, or else, they fear, she might abandon her precious Feyd-Rautha rather quickly. Their union must be under the dangerous premise of love. And yet, the test must be conducted. Most likely it will even make her desire Feyd-Rautha more and let Giedi Prime be more bearable. That and the fact that the sisterhood has purposely been withholding the yearning transmissions from the na-Baron. The relic is ready to do just about anything to get to the man of her delusions.

"Put your right hand in the box. If you pull it out, you die."

"What's in there?" She grates out, peering into the black maw of the unremarkable metal box.

"Pain," Mohiam replies monotonously, having grown almost bored of the ever same test throughout the decades. Of course, the woman will pass. Patiently, the Reverend Mother waits for her to relent, because of course she will. It is a tiresome game. The needle at her neck remains unwavering. 

She is thinking, of course, she could risk death out of spite, but she refuses to die before taking Feyd in her arms. So, she places her hand in the box and earns her place on the chess board as a fully carved figurine.

The box is empty. She moves her fingers around and is soon plagued by a phantom sting which swiftly develops into pricking needles. She lets out a grunt and the sensation becomes a slow cutting, like knives probing into her palms and fingers. Her face twitches, brows furrowing, sweat beading on her upper lip as her body goes rigid, fighting against the urge to pull back. A thousand knives now cut into her palm, ravaging the soft flesh and tearing it to shreds. She screams.

"Quiet."

"Fuck you!" She spits, having already concluded that not the box causes the pain, but an unspoken presence of the Reverend Mother's voice does, explicitly addressing her pain receptors in an increasing onslaught. To know that nothing is in the box doesn't make the pain any less real, nor the nauseating truth that she is being tortured at the whim of a person.

So, she sobs like an animal while enduring the cruel test, scorched, flesh-stripped fingers quivering against the cool metal. She will live to hold Feyd in her arms and she will live to burn down this universe with its thinly veiled slavery and misogyny. On Earth, at least everyone had been equally miserable.

The Reverend Mother conceals her dislike of the unpleasant sounds under her veil, noting how petty it is of the woman to torture her ears in revenge. She is a clever thing.

"You may remove your hand."

She does at an instant, hurtling backwards and standing tall, nostrils flaring as she regards the seated reverend mother. The neurobiologists from Magellan II would have had the time of their lives, dissecting the old woman's brain to decipher the voice. To imagine Mohiam without her ominous headgear on a dissecting table brings the relic an indecent burst of glee through her tormented nerves.

"Did you enjoy yourself?" She spits.

"Not at all. I'd prefer if you used your voice in a different, more useful way. But at least now we know that you are human." The reverend mother pats the box once.

"Oh." She speaks with pure disdain. "A generous conclusion."

"And you may board the heighliner to Giedi Prime. Feyd-Rautha will await you." 

"Yes, I will. And yes, he will!" To think that she's had more agency in a dream than in this new world is revolting.

"Pack your things."

"I want my necklace and I want my Sarcophagus. Don't you even think about denying me that wish," she bristles. "I am a human and I've been one even before your inhuman test. These things are of sentimental value and they belong to me. Give them to me!"

"This attitude won't get you far on Giedi Prime," Mohiam drones monotonously, hands folded in her lap with annoying calmness. Under other circumstances, she would have never let a pupil of hers enter a battlefield as harsh as Giedi Prime so unprepared, but if one can believe the fierce messages from Feyd-Rautha to Wallach IX, she will be protected enough.

"I'm human," the relic rages on. "But you and your pseudo-religious cult, you are not human. You are even worse."

Everything will be better once she is on Giedi Prime.

Giedi Prime, Day 1

For the past few days, Feyd has done nothing but counting down the seconds to this precise moment. But as soon as the shuttle from the heighliner comes sweeping down through the blanket of clouds, hammering anxiety punches against his insides so hard, he feels sick to his stomach. His pulse races against the high neck of his uniform and dizziness forces him to fight for every breath.

He has been walking through a nightmare for two years and the past week has been the awakening. Like a sleeper aware of his own dream, he had screamed, kicked, killed to free himself from the shackles of his nightmare.

When he first heard the rumors, he had cried for three hours in the solitude of his quarters, then plunged his blade into his own thigh to snap himself out of it. There had been real fear in his uncle's eyes when Feyd confronted him, declaring that the relic is his and he will kill every servant, every guard, until he has her, and himself if he cannot have her.

Luckily, the Baron and the Bene Gesserit have been unexpectedly forthcoming.

So, after waking up, here comes reality. Sweet and frightening and lurid.

Feyd's heart clamors so loudly, he thinks he's going to die.

Wind whips around the landing pad and through his clothes when the shuttle touches down 200 meters away and hot exhaust gasses are released from the valves with a hiss. He almost jumps but forces his posture into a rigid lock, feet set shoulder-width apart.

The ramp drops with a mechanical buzzing and Feyd's stomach drops with it. Suddenly, he viscerally wishes he had more time and could prolong the anticipation, the preparation, the hiding. He hasn't prepared himself at all for her arrival, he now realizes, hasn't even considered what to say, how to greet her in front of three battalions of soldiers and generals. What will she think of him when she sees him for the first time in the flesh? Will she be disappoin- Oh God, there she is. 

That must be her. Is that her? It's her!

After half a dozen staff, a figure  exits the ship, clutching her little coffer so tightly in front of her hips, like it's the only thing of identity she has in the entire universe. 

As she slowly walks, her gaze swivels across the mass of bald heads, identical like an army of clones, unmoving, devoid of color and every sense of individuality. She jumps fiercely when the black and white mass suddenly bellows and a thousand pairs of arms fly up, hands clutched over bald heads.

Seeing the troops (all men) lined up in formation, saluting fiercely, a glacial shiver rolls down her spine, reminding her viciously of one of the darkest chapters of Earth. 

She swallows her fear. The first impression isn't that important. This world will have its good sides and Feyd will show them to her. Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen. She believes now that he could have rescued her off every planet in this world.

Yearningly, her gaze bounces from head to head. She had thought she would recognize him immediately and is terribly ashamed when she doesn't. At least, her frantic overwhelm distracts her from the roiling of her stomach. She thought she was going to throw up from anxiety on the shuttle, and she would have, had they not ushered her down the ramp immediately after landing. 

Cool metal brushes comfortingly against the space between her breasts. Around her neck she wears a slender cord of silver links with a slim cuboid for a pendant, about the size of the first phalanx of a thumb.

She is being led down a corridor of saluting men, all grim faces, and wind whips around the long gown she was advised to wear. If only she had decided  to wear something she feels more confident in. She's meticulously prepared what to say to him for the past days, arranging every word in her head to perfection, but now she can't remember a single word of Galach for the life of her– There he is! 

There he is. There he is. There he is!

At the end of the corridor stands Feyd-Rautha in formal military livery, blocky shapes hiding all the softness of his body, only his face betrays him, full lips exactly how she remembers them, soft cheeks dented by the hollow below his cheek bones, gently curved jaws and blue eyes hidden beneath the shadows cast by thick brow bones. He looks like a frightened animal to her, throat bobbing repeatedly with dry swallows.

The deafening roar of salutes dies down to a distant buzzing as she walks through a tunnel towards him, steps quickening, vision blurring. She tries to smile and her cheeks feel awkward doing it, she doesn't know where to look. Feyd doesn't smile back, but his head tilts backwards, jaws flexing as if he's holding back either tears or words.

She cannot hug him in front of all the generals, Feyd thinks. I will break down if she does.

Without thinking, she runs the final meters and hugs him in front of all the generals, arms wrapping around his neck and shoulders, sobbing into the collar of his suit. "Hello." Her accent is thick and lovely.

"Hello."

Feyd knew he would break down. His chin quivers uncontrollably, jaws so tight that he thinks the tendons in his neck might snap any second. He exhales a harsh breath, arms wrapping around her waist, leeching the warmth of her body that sinks through the layers of dress and suit.

Feyd holds her, holds her so tight and her flesh, skin and bones are actually real, her beating heart is real, her soft voice is real. She is real.

"You're here," he whispers almost inaudibly into her ear, face lowered to press against the side of her head, chin hidden in her shoulder.

She cries like she's not ashamed of crying, nodding fiercely, and each nod is an apology and a promise to never leave him again.

Feyd wants to tell her how much he's missed her, how much his soul has craved hers every waking and sleeping hour of every day, how he's been split apart and nothing in the world could soothe him. But he cannot, not now, because they are not dreaming and he is Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen.

"Not now-" he pleads and tries to stop her when her face slips in front of his, her cheeks painted with glittering tears, but her mouth is on his before he can finish, kissing him with salt-wet lips, hands clinging to the nape of his neck.

Of course, he kisses her back. Luckily, his longing is so all-consuming that he kisses her like he wants to crawl into her flesh, so he will never be alone again. With both hands splayed across her cheeks and ears, claiming his woman, none of his people will perceive him as weak.

The soldiers and generals don't know the pair's story, but they salute for their na-Baron, because they know the relic from Old Earth is now property of House Harkonnen.

In a world devoid of color, she would have expected the interior to be vibrant and bright to make up for the lack of it under the sun, but every hallway they have traversed has been even bleaker than the outside, like being swallowed by the underworld, if the underworld was made of concrete and plastic.

The throne room is no different. Curved pillars curl up to the tall ceiling, black within black illuminated by bluish glow provided by floating lights (glowglobes!) Feyd and her and a small entourage of guards and servants are gathered here and she stands in the very front, having refused to let go of her coffer when a servant had demurely offered their hand. She hopes her Sarcophagus is being handled with care.

Feyd is one step behind her and from her peripheral vision, she sees him rigid as a board.

Like instructed, she bows before the Baron Harkonnen, determined not to show any judgment for his harrowing appearance, like gluttony personified with sly, glittering eyes nearly hidden behind folds of fat.

"The relic from Old Earth…" The Baron rumbles and she sees that as her signal to straighten herself.

"It's a pleasure to meet you," she says and Feyd's jaw twitches.

"A pleasure?" The Baron chuckles. "Old earth must have been terrible then."

What is she supposed to say to that? Sweaty palms clutch the handle of her coffer and her gaze is momentarily drawn to a movement in the corner of the room behind the Baron's floating chair.

Nebulous eyes blink at her from the shadows, hidden in darkness, but she can tell it is a thing with too many legs. (Or are they arms?) Eight of them, and they unfurl grotesquely, glossy skin shimmering like jet black rubber. The pair of white eyes seems to be looking directly at her and this thing will haunt her nightmares, although it appears almost tame next to the faceless legions that had welcomed her at the landing pad.

The Baron speaks again, forcing her attention back to him. "I've only allowed this union because my dear Feyd has been in such a somber mood as of late, he has been such unpleasant company."

The thing in the back stirs and wildly scuttles and she realizes they're not arms or legs, they are arm-legs with hand-feet attached to them. Feyd inhales sharply behind her, just loud enough for her to hear. The arachnid creature halts and blinks and then decides to abandon its advance and return to the shadows.

"I understand," she says, determined to hide the fact that she doesn't.

The Baron takes a slow drag from his hookah and reclines, looking at her like she is nothing more than a pesky, necessary evil.

Feyd walks at the side of his woman, feeling lighter the further they get away from the Baron, though his breathing is still that of an animal in distress. He walks stiffly (actually, he prowls), overseeing the entire entourage. His right hand hovers over the blade he carries at the hip under his suit jacket, ready to slay anyone who dares to come near her.

Something terrible has been irking him but he refuses to think about it.

Meanwhile his woman's eyes are all over the bulky, coffin shaped container that is being carried to her new chambers by ten servants, following every step with anxious concentration. She wants to jump forward and help carry it, if only to place a protective hand on her sarcophagus, but she remains at Feyd's side, intimidated by the ten men who kindly do her heavy lifting.

"This is my wing," Feyd quietly explains as they step out of the third elevator. They must be quite at the top of the pyramid shaped building by now. She nods, quite relieved that she will be living close to Feyd. "My suite is right next door."

The corridor is black and austere, walls made of  bulky, thick plastic panels, intersected every now and then by slender windows that give way to the view of grey citiscape and factories as far as the eye can see. 'It's not that different from home', she tries to keep the creeping, crawling dread at bay.

The ten helpers turn into a room which opens to Feyd's hand tapping a panel on the wall.

"Over there, right in the sun is perfect, please. Thank you! Oh- Careful please!" 

With a loud clang the cryo pod is set on the ground in a patch of color-stealing sunlight that slants through the window. The helpers say nothing, merely salute and scurry away in a tight line when Feyd jerks his head. "Thank you!" She calls after them again.

That is one less worry. Exhaling loudly, she sits down right on top of the sarcophagus, unbothered for now by the monochromatic light. Under the confines of her gown, she has been shaking the entire time. The door whirrs shut and they are alone. Finally alone. Feyd stands in front of her, hands clutched in front of his pelvis.

"You don't need to say thank you to the slaves."

"The…? Oh." The corners of her mouth twitch downwards and she draws up her shoulders, pulling her little coffer in her lap.

What a horrible place to be. The only women she has seen so far haven't even looked at her, standing behind the Baron with their faces turned to the ground.

What a horrible place to be a woman.

"Do you know who that man was, in the audience chamber?" Feyd cannot keep himself from asking any longer. She saw his uncle. Knows what he did to him. Somehow, his own shame weighs a millionfold now and Feyd wants to crawl out of his own skin, so she won't have to touch the same body his uncle has touched.

Her attention snaps back to Feyd. "What?" She is briefly perplexed. "You mean… The Baron?"

"Yes. You know that's my uncle I've told you about, right? My uncle is the Baron."

She sits dumbstruck on her cryo pod, frozen before heat fills her face and bile gathers in her throat. She has never been so ashamed in her entire life.

"Oh shit, I-, I assumed the Baron is your father, because of the last name." Feyd had never mentioned his uncle's rank, nor had the Bene Gesserit deemed it necessary to inform her about their family relations. And why would they, assuming the relic is well-informed about the man from her dreams. "I'm so sorry, oh God- Feyd…"

Feyd is so stupidly relieved, he could cry. Looking to the side, he blinks the tears away, fighting the urge to sink his blade into his own flesh to stop the onslaught on his eyes.

"Sorry, I'm so sorry," she mumbles again and abandons her coffer and sarcophagus to wrap her arms around Feyd's middle without thinking about it too long. "Please forgive me."

Perhaps the reverend mother was right. Perhaps she is of lesser intelligence for favoring science over politics. After learning that her Feyd lives now, she had meant to study House Harkonnen until her departure, but had gotten lost in the physics of the three-dimensional incarnation of the Holtzman Effect which allows to fold space at the quantum level and enables faster-than-light travel with the aid of human computers.

Feyd's arms curl tightly around her back, nose buried in her shoulder, pressing her against his earthly prison so she can deliver him from evil.. How stupid he was to bring her here into the devil's den, where she is the easiest target one could possibly make.

"Nothing to forgive…" He wants to call her his darling, his beloved, and even more importantly finally verbally declare his love for her that's been like a wild, scared animal sitting in a cage all the years, but a heavy shyness ties his tongue to the roof of his mouth. Without the protection of the cage, what if this animal will be slain? What if it will slay itself?

I had been hungry, all the Years – My Noon had Come – to dine – I trembling drew the Table near – And touched the Curious Wine … - I had been hungry, all the Years by Emily Dickinson, 1891

A/N: Feyd: I've literally never had a loving interaction irl in my entire life and I'm terrified, but this is my woman🥺

FMC: I'm literally on a black and white planet full of space Nazis, my man is one of them and I'm terrified, but this is my man🥺

TAG LIST: @welliah, @nostalgichoya, @forgedfromthestars, @sweetiee-o, @missbingu, @charmingballoon, @sebastianswallows, @minedofmoria, @flower-frog (I'm so sowwy, the tags are broken and I don't know how to fix them ;-;)

Do let me know if u want me to tag u 👉👈

[solitude4chiron]

White Ferrari

Miles 42 x black fem reader

Warnings/about: Angst/fluff, Drunk characters, slightly drunk driving, you get attacked by one of Miles’s rivals he feels guilty, frank ocean & skateboarding, caring miles

Slight trigger warning: You get followed and attacked by a rival of your boyfriends, you own a gun and pull it out

& yes this is pt.2 to fashion killa 🫶🏾 thank y’all for the support on my first piece of writing 🥹🥹

Miles took your advice from your last heartfelt conversation, leading his uncle Aaron to take more of the prowler role while he rebuilt your relationship, but after a few weeks off he sadly had to stay out again

During the weeks he had off you felt closer to your villain boyfriend than you ever had before. Him opening up his eyes to your world and you feeling every emotion he expressed he was raised in as a child.

You both went to concerts seeing ASAP Rocky (both of y’all’s fav) JID,  Brent faiyaz (Miles’s favorite he sends you lyrics all the time) and kendrick Lamar. You standing in the pit made miles tense up so he would always end up being right behind you, arms wrapped around your waist while dancing to whatever artist was playing, the tight space pressing your butt onto him which made him go feral, but not purposely of course 🙄 so he always ended up whispering in your ear 

“Espera a que lleguemos a casa, you want to tease huh?” (Wait till we get home)

After his disappearance, and reappearance you communicated your feelings to him a lot, as he understood that his weight was slightly your weight too, and it stressed you out. Even though his identity was safe and your relationship with him wasn’t too public, you felt someone had a hit out on your head.

“8:35 pm not too late…” and while miles was gone you dragged on your baggy evisu jeans while also pulling on a tight cropped shirt, finishing it off with a hoodie zipping it just far up enough so you could still let others see your bellybutton was pierced. Then you left, skating down the street with bktherula blasting in your left ear (miles always told you to keep one ear open when he wasn’t with you)

After a minute you stopped at a gas station for a drink and while walking to the back for your soda, you spotted a man dressed in all black. Shiesty mask pulled down, his dark eyes glared at you screaming disrespectful things

“Why the fuck do I live in nyc..” you muttered

At that moment you snatched the money out your pocket and slammed it on the counter whilst walking out, hoping the fast payment would put some space between you two. You also text miles. A lot..

“Hey miles baby, you free?” 8:49

“Some dude keeps following me miles” 8:49

“Miles please look at my location, I’ll try to stay in the area please come get me” 8:50

“Baby please answer me” 8:50

“Babe” 8:50

“Babe” 8:53

“Miles” 8:53

Miles POV:

“Aye pass that shi bru we celebrating tonight” I said through intoxicated lips while taking another swig of the hennessy bottle, and for a minute my worries went away, and that minute was actually 30 minutes

“Aye y’all imma head home ! My wife waiting on me” I said with a smug look on my face snatching the keys to my motorcycle off the counter, but my unc ain’t goin for that shi

“Gimme the keys miles, airdrop me your address” 

“Alright then dad..” I said sarcastically, but slightly pondered on that sentence because my dad, yeah 

While opening my phone to airdrop the address my heart sank to my crotch

Future wife: 7 new messages

Future wife: 16 missed calls 

Future wife: 1 voicemail 

And immediately I became sober. Hopping on my motorcycle and riding through the oddly warm night climate, leaving my worried uncle behind while tracking y/n’s location 

“Sabes que lo siento, I keep fucking letting you down.” (You know I’m sorry baby)

Y/n’s pov:

Although you tried not to acknowledge the man but something about him was familiar? You’re sure you’ve never seen him before but maybe you’ve heard of him

“Come here ma, won’t be long trust”

“Come on you know you want to turn around and look at me” 

And in that moment you knew who he was, Sidat. (Sigh - dot) Miles’s little “enemy”. Miles told you about him, but the way he was described to you. Made you feel like he wasn’t a threat. Now you realize he wasn’t a threat to miles, but definitely is a threat to you

“Move nigga, I got a man” you snapped

“I know that already love, fuc him” 

And something in you jerked to pull out the gun you tucked in your pants earlier. The gun that had MM (Miles morales) engraved in it, the gun you never realized could swiftly take someone off the earth, the gun that had purple wrapped around it. Personalized for your boyfriends touch 

“I said move nigga, damn.” You said, turning around swiftly while pulling the gun out your waist

And you tilted your head, peering down the top of the gun hoping this would be enough to scare sidat away 

“You ain’t pullin that shi girl” he said whilst jumping on you pinning you to the floor, you kept the barrel of the gun to his chest but he knew you wouldn’t pull it. You knew you wouldn’t too 

He lifted your chin off your chest with his own weapon 

“You so fine, miles don’t deserve yo pretty ass”

And in that moment you heard a motorcycle almost a minute away

So he left, and in the snap of a finger sidat was gone

And you shivered on the floor preparing your words for when miles found you. Tears ruining your pretty mascara 

“Lo siento, cariño, lo siento, salí y me emborraché y pensé que si bebía no tendría que pensar en nada y..” (I’m sorry baby, I’m sorry I went out and got drunk and I thought if I drank I wouldn’t have to think about anything and I..)

“Come on hermosa, I’m so sorry” you saw a tear forming a the bottom of his eyes and you knew if he wasn’t slightly drunk he probably wouldn’t be crying right now 

He picked you up and sat you on his motorcycle. Going straight home

Timeskip: At home

“And yeah, that’s what happened. He vanished as soon as you pulled up.” You said through tears and hiccups 

Miles tried his hardest to comfort you. He took your clothes off slowly trying not to trigger anything inside of you and wrapped you in the satin robe he got you for valentines. He took you into the bathroom and ran you a bath while rubbing a soapy rag along your body. His eyebrows indicating his regret. He made you hot camomile tea just like how his mom taught him, and he slid your bonnet on your braids freshly oiled for bed while he played your favorite, frank ocean

“It’s my fault” you heard him sigh

“No baby it wasn’t your fault, It wasn’t any of ours I’m not too shaken anyways I promise”

“But I should have been checking your texts, just like you always tell me too…” and he buried his head into your breasts trying to hold back drunk tears, and sooner or later you were being showered with kisses. His breath smelled like liquor but you didn’t care. He made sure that night while you both slept he was directly behind you. Never letting go of your hip 

“Care for you still and I will, forever” miles sleepily sang the lyrics of white Ferrari, and you’d wonder if he knew what he sang, or the impact it made in your head. It almost felt like he could only love you this deeply when he was drunk. Maybe he just felt this way the whole time

And through every kiss he apologized, because sober or not it pained him so much someone besides him had hurt you, purposely. The music filled your room and leaked out your shared window freezing time, and all you could do was stare at the boy you loved in awe

Because you never thought he could love someone so deeply 

[watchingblsnowandforever]

Hello again! =D

Here's Part 1

*looks at all the remaining screenshots and sighs* I really need to learn to take screenshots more selectively-

Warning: long post 😊😅

This is the sole reason Phum chose to ride the cycle, because we all know he brought his car.

I'm not complaining though. In fact-

Peem, give this man all the hugs in this world. He deserves them. <3

HANDS!!

Aunt Pui Live Reaction

She ships them hehe

She's the best wingaunt 😭🫶🏼

Oh, it's his turn with the braincell finally hehe

Oh, that little kernel of insecurity making him question this :(

And it's Phum's turn to immediately refute any doubt about his feelings.

Oh yeah, telling him all the reasons you like him is the only reason you'll "have" to stay over at his place, Phum. It's not like you wanna cuddle him or anything. Pfft of course not.

Peem's reaction is so cute (no pun intended-) oh gods 😭

This is what told me for sure that Phum knows about Peem's feelings.

The way he framed this, the absolute lack of hesitation in his voice, the way he smiled, the way he looked at Peem.

Just because he doesn't confront Peem about it doesn't mean he doesn't know his feelings are reciprocated.

No wonder Peem's reaction looks so genuine 😭 (Pond improvised this part)

What do you do when the guy you like keeps shrugging off your hand? Keep trying of course! And then lock your hands so he can't shrug them off.

Mission Side-Hug Your Crush: Accomplished 😌✅️

Me:

Wait- WAIT, you're gonna leave the cycle right there in the middle of the driveway?! WHY 🥲😭

👀

Yep, same pic.

The moment I saw this I was like where have I seen this before- OH yeah.

See, now Fang isn't hesitating to call him out on it. Now he knows for sure Phum likes Peem, and it's okay to talk to him about it. But he still doesn't prod much, and only takes what Phum tells him.

In conclusion: Fang is a good brother. 😌

Others: Byee! Have a great time!

Chain: I'll play the guitar for you.

Let's be honest, who's the enabler here? Pun might come up with the strangest most complicated plans, but who's the first to go along with it?

ASKFDGHYTRUASKJNCHDFJ

WHAT WAS THIS KISS?!!!! AND WHY WAS IT TAILOR-MADE TO MAKE ME GO CRAZY?!!!!!

WINNYSTANG. I liked you before but to be very frank, I was kinda indifferent, but now you have my full attention. Make me go even more crazy.

Ooh they have a third brother??

See, up till this point, I was willing to ignore their parents (not what they did, but them as people, because they do not deserve any attention) but this? Stopping Fang from going to check on his brother? NUH UH. That's a line you don't cross.

So now, I'm handing Peem and Tan their weapon(s) of choice and letting them have a go at it. The bodies? Oh, don't worry about that, we'll handle those. :)

What I really love about this scene is that Peem hugs first, then asks questions.

Ah I love hugs so much 🥹🫶🏼

No. They can't.

And similarly, our parents can't always be right. They might always want what's the best for us, but that doesn't mean that what they do is always the best for us.

Also- I'm completely normal about the fact that Phum and Fang went to Peem and Tan - their respective safe zones. Very normal. 🥺

AND THOSE 'I LOVE YOU'S BY TANFANG OH MY GODS I-

I could write a whole essay about just these few minutes (of that PhumPeem hug and this TanFang moment) but I don't have that much time or energy 😭

I'll just go sob in the corner because this entire ep was made to attack my heart with fluff but this scene just broke me.

Also- we finally get actual wind-ruffled hair in BL hehe

Isn't he already Golden Retriever enough? 😭

[Also, at this point my anxiety spiked because I had 7 more screenshots, but I'd already done 25, so tumblr would allow only 5 more 😶😭]

Yes.

Peem finally getting his confidence and sass back! Hehe

That peck had me blinking and then smiling so wide and rewatching those few seconds at least four times.

He says no, and yet his face is tilted and eyes closed and he's all ready to be kissed so sweetly.

You betray yourself, Peem *smh*

HANDS!!!!

The day I stop screaming about hands is my last day on Earth.

This broke my heart, but this hug and Peem's reply put it back together. <33

He-

He said it. While he was awake. 😶

Listen, that nose boop and him telling Phum he'd done a good job the first time changed my brain chemistry so much I collected all the stray strands of my nonexistant giffing skills and made a gif just to put it as my header (replacing that scene from Cherry Magic that I've probably watched a million times now, and had changed me viscerally).

AND THEN THEY GIVE ME THIS.

They're playing table tennis with my heart 🥲

Anyways. Love this scene. So much.

BONUS: I couldn't upload the screenshot of this, but that horse riding scene is so funny to me, because Phuwin is the one who can ride, and Pond's the one a little scared (a little like that roller coaster scene except reversed hehe).

Also "I feel like a prince, riding my horse led by my servant." uh huh. no reference here. just a random line in a random series where the main leads acted in a series previously where one of them was a khun chai and the other worked for him. no reference at all.

Finally!

That's it for ep 12, see y'all next week!

If you got this far, thank you so much for reading! 😊

Here, have some pancakes 🥞

All my previous We Are posts.

@inonetoomanyfandoms here's part 2 hehe

[j-restlessgeek]

Look who arrived :3

My @kaarijazineofficial arrived 🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹

I absolutely love the cards, reading and looking at all the details and the backside is so pretty too 🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰.

The art inside and outside the zine is insane too. Putting my gushing under the line in case you want to see it once your own zine arrives :3.

Gushing begins, weeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee

The back of the zine is so pretty, look who is there 🥹🥹🥹🥹. They are all there 🥹🥹🥰🥰.

Oh same about the backside of the cards

The notes have sunglasses 🥹🥹🥹🥹🥰🥰🥰, also the tape is such a cute nod towards Jesse 🥰🥰🥰🥹🥹. The amount of detailing in the entire zine is so impressive. Was squealing all the time while opening and going through the pages.

The art inside is so edible like wow 🥹🥹🥹🥹. So much detailing, the colours are so fun and like wow the skill 🤯🤯🤯🤯🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥. The textures are so good 💛💛💛💛💛💛💛

Some examples:

^Look at this, little chelsea 🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹😻😻😻😻😻😻😻😻😻. The one and only. Awwwwwwwww her little bandana looks so cute and häärijä 👀👀👀🥰🥰🥰🥰. Insane how many people are in this without it being crowded 🥹🥹🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰. They are all there, the dancers, the daltons, frank 🦩, häärijä, the bojan and our fluffy queen chelsea 💛💛💛💛🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰.

^This piece even has joker out (they are adorable 😻😻😻😻🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰 and so small 👀👀), insanely detailed absolutely love the colours and the lighting. 👀👀👀🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥 Also Jere has fangs 👀👀👀. The poses are so sweet and energetic.

^You can see the freaking texture in the fabric, i am going insane over it. Like aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH. Wow, also the eyes 🥹🥹🥹🥹. They hold so much light and warmth. The colours are so neat. 💛💛💛💛💛💛

^Hell yeah, Häärijä Show Time, i freaking love the mash up of the dancers and the daltons outfits, absolutely love that, also jere's watafak is everything. The colours are so good too. 💛💛💛💛💛💛🥹🥹🥹🥹. And all the little details like i want a pair of häärijä earrings as well 👀👀👀👀, love that they are in the style of häärijä's merch 😻😻😻🥰🥰🥰🥰

So many jere's/one john (who got a very fancy hat, seriously i love the hat💛💛💛💛)/ one häärijä 🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰. Absolutely lovely. So many memories come up seeing all the outfits 🥹🥹🥹. Love the colours too. 😻😻😻

The stickers from @mitamicah are super cool too🥰🥰🥰🥰. A sticker with Jure is there too, i absolutely love the honorary slovene piece 🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛.

Look at these, i am stunned and in awe. 🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰😻😻😻😻😻😻😻😻😻😻😻😻😻😻😻😻😻😻😻😻😻😻😻😻😻😻😻😻😻

[vestaclinicpod]

Audio Drama Sunday - 21st July ✨

This week was very very much girlbeingfedpancakes.jpg with so many of my favourite shows coming back from hiatus!! 🥞

👻 @tellnotalespod (S2E13) Here’s the thing: I had the absolute pleasure of meeting Leanne a few weeks ago and took the opportunity to ask when Louisa was going to gtfo of the narrative. I now see why they laughed 😭 While I am happy that Julia has pretty much forgiven Leo, I think she should take a few more mins to realise why she can’t stay mad!! And oh my god, RILEY. I’m joining the crowd of ‘I knew it!!’ screamers! If anyone can shake off a possession it’s Riley fucking Matkins but I am terrified that Leo is going to be put in a position where they have to choose between Riley and Frank. I’m worried it won’t be such a straightforward decision for them… 

🌲 @hellofromthehallowoods (159) The assumption at the start of this episode was entirely correct. I also LOVED the little extended metaphor about The Auditor being a scalpel, imagine dropping a line like that in a real confrontation 🥵 I’m so glad to have my beloved hallowoods back, even if a few of the twists in this episode made my stomach twist also (seriously, Marco!!! You have a child!!!!!). 

🧳 Travelling Light @monstrousproductions (27) I loved the depiction of alien technology in this episode, I really just want to visit this fish market and take everything in!! Very exciting to hear also that a deal might be coming soon. I have been missing my favourite little Óli these last few eps . . . I hope they haven’t been distancing themself from the Traveller :( 

🖥️ The Magnus Protocol (22) okay, so I really love neuroscience and listening to the experiment in this episode was too funny to be scary but what did make me nervous was Sam finally being driven firmly towards investigating the Institute further. I’m sure it’s going to end well. And those names at the end… why are they so familiar…? 

🧋I finished E12 of @hinaypod - what a cliffhanger!! I’m disconcerted by this CJ person even if she does seem to be protecting Laura. 

🦋 I started @remnantspod this week! I’ve only listened to the first episode so far but, my god, Eira knows how to tell a story. I’m so intrigued and excited to see where this show leads!  

🗺 So lovely to have @tales-from-the-low-city back in my ears! It remains one of the most soothing things I have ever listened to, but the music in this episode did a great job of building tension while waiting for the all clear! 

I have not yet been brave enough to listen to the first part of The Silt Verses Finale this week, but I am post-nights tomorrow and plan to spend all day listening to both parts and crying 🦀 

Also, as a special mention, it’s not really audio drama, but it is: I finished Tell No Tales creator Leanne Egan's book Lover Birds this morning. It is SO cute and so wonderfully nostalgic as I got together with my now wife at around the same age as the girls in the book 🥹 I’m filled with queer, Northern pride after reading it and if you’re looking for a summer read that will pull on your heart strings just the right amount, PLEASE support Leanne and grab a copy!! 🌈

[walli3darl1ng]

Hey! I was wondering, what about a winged reader? Like the reader has pretty big feathered wings that making flying in the sky very easy.

So like, Wally is strolling through the woods on a windy day when a tree was about to fall on him, and the reader who got lost flying around grabbed the tree before it hit him?

Plus the whole town coming to see them and Sally and Jullie are begging to be flown around 🥺🥺

I just think it would be very cute ❤️

This is the cutest thing ever! I’ll try my best.

Also I would imagine reader’s home to be in a tree or something, so they’ll have to fly up because they feel safer that way🥹

Ps. I’ll write one request at a time, just so I’m not overwhelming myself. Hope you guys understand! I promise I’m not ignoring you guys😅

In the neighborhood it was the same as any other day. Barnaby helping Sally with rehearsal of her monthly play. Julie occasionally helping them or Poppy in baking. Howdy attending his store. Eddie strolling around the neighborhood to deliver mail or boxes. And Frank studying butterflies.

Wally would usually paint but today he decided to take a stroll in the woods to see if anything would be his muse of the day.

Once in the woods wind was picking up rather quickly and he looks up to see it’s cloudy? The neighborhood is never cloudy like this, it looks like a nasty storm. Wally gives a concern look at the sky before deciding it’s best to head home. But there was a crash and light flashing.

Thunder. It struck a tree and was now falling in his direction, he was frozen. He didn’t know what to do, he never felt physically pain. Nothing will happen right?

Next thing he knows, a force pushes him out the way and the tree crashes to the ground. Wally sits up and quickly looks at the tree, once the smoke clears he sees a figure with wings? That’s right, the figure had wings and was trapped under the tree!

Wally quickly rushes over there and sees the winged figure’s wing caught under the fallen tree but they weren’t worried, only up at the sky where the clouds were fading away. They hold their hand up as if to stop the clouds from going away but was met with the warmth of the sun, almost in a mocking manner.

“Are you okay?” Wally snaps out of it, finding the figure now facing them with worried eyes, their halo glowing dimly, reflecting their concerned.

Wally was so confused, the Angel was trapped under a heavy tree and their worried about him? He should be asking that question not them. “I wound be more worried about you, friend. Your wing is under there, don’t you feel the pain?”

“I choose not to. It’s unnecessary, you were in danger.” You give him a painful smile, reaching up and patting his head.

“Wally! Are you here!?”

Wally hums and turns to the direction of the voices and recognize it to be their friends. Probably worried about him. How cute.

“Your friends?”

“They can help you.”

Wally told the beautiful Angel to hold on for a moment while he gets his friends to help you. They were all so nice and reassuring. Telling you, you’re in good hands.

Once the tree was off and your wing was free, you noticed that it was only dislocated and popped it into place, really painful but it was quick. You hold it and told them you need something to tie it with and the star, Sally, offers you her scarf.

With your help, the tree was recycled into making your new home just at the entrance of the forest, up in a tree. It’s been months and everyone loves having you in their community.

Sally and Julie would play with your halo and braid your hair. You would leave them in until they unravel them. They would also always visit you and ask you if you could give them a lift and fly with them. You wound agree and even throw them up and caught them.

Frank is cautious at first but once seeing your wings he wanted nothing more but to touch them and study them. And that’s what you guys will do, he would study your wings or the butterflies while you hang out with him and Julie.

Eddie is an absolute sweetheart, you would offer to fly some boxes while he does the paper mail and after he would treat you to some sweet for the help and you would hug him letting your wings wrap around him.

Howdy doesn’t need help but would let you float about the store and put stuff up if you see it out of place. Honestly you’re just there with him while he does his thing, he does scold you for eating the dragon fruits. If not eating them, just holding them.

Barnaby is you second cuddle Buddy, you guys would just cuddle all the time. Or you would try to pick him up and drop him somewhere but you could never lift him. He’s too squishy.

Now Wally, oh the 12 apple goblin is glued to you. Or at least tries, desperately. When he does get a hold of you, which is everyday, you’re his infinite muse. Anything you do he wants to capture it in a canvas. Wants to feel your wings around him, want to feel you. Would take afternoon naps, you curling around him whit your wings wrapped around the both of you, he always feels safe.

[little-miss-dilf-lover]

I love the request that anon did about Matt x adopted son. Could you rewrite the fic but with Matt and Reader celebrating the 12 or 13 birthday of his son? Just if you want to

hii! 🥹 thank you sm! sorry it’s taken so long. thank you for requesting, hope you like it💌

birthday boy

Matt Murdock x f reader (with their son)

wc || 0.6k

warnings || none

been so long since a Matt fic, really sorry!!

masterlist + rules

taglist

fort stories (in case you want to read the ‘first part’)

Micheal was turning thirteen and neither one of you could believe that your baby boy was about to become a teenager. Not long ago did it feel like Micheal would run around the backyard in his diaper, or when Matt would read a nightly bedtime story. It was all these tiny things that made it hard for you both to accept he was growing up. You were excited for the next step in your parental relationship, but you couldn’t but miss the way he’d fit so snuggly in your arms. Matt was also sad that his boy was growing up, but he was also excited for the next step, excited to develop a deeper connection with Mike.

You originally suggested a quaint backyard barbecue with all of your close loved ones; Maggie, Foggy, Marci and their twin girls. As well as Karen, Frank and their baby boy Ben. You and Matt wanted to share this special time with the people that meant the most, but that being said, it was Micheal’s birthday so you gave him his chance to choose. He had picked a quiet and fun day with his dad, at first you were a little upset but Micheal has always been a daddy’s boy so it wasn’t exactly a shock. Matt tried to persuade him to invite you, but he already had his mind set, just like his father.

To Matt’s displeasure, Michael has recently had a thing for another masked vigilante of New York, who just so happens to be Spider-Man. So you spent the day baking and decorating his birthday cake, working meticulously to get his webbed face mask as neat as possible while Matt played football with Micheal in the backyard. Tackling each other and laughing away.

They had already spent the better half of the day playing video games, using his birthday gifts and eating shitty pizza, so by now, they had plenty of energy to burn off.

You called Matt aside so you could both bring out the cake, singing happy birthday as you walked over to your smiling son sitting at the dining table. You two placed the red-masked face down in front of Micheal which immediately widened his grin. “Mom? Spider-Man?” He excitedly exclaimed, staring at the details.

“Spider-Man? Really?” Matt turns to face you, visibly displeased. Tone flat as he hid a smile. “I’m offended.”

“Don’t worry, I prefer Daredevil.” You grin, hugging his side. Turning to face Michael, your facial expressions are playful as you shake your head. Whispering. “Spider-Man is way cooler.”

“Hm.” Matt jokingly frowns, turning his attention to Micheal. “Make your wish buddy.”

After Micheal blows out his candles, you and Matt grin and clap, cheering him along. “What’d you wish for?” You ask.

“I can’t tell you, mom… it won’t come true.” He says matter of factly, looking at you as though you had just said the most inexcusable thing.

“Yeah, mom.” Matt adds, playfully mocking as he nudged Michael.

Eyes squinted as you jokingly glared at them both. “Oh, I see how it is… no cake for you guys.”

A few more hours went by and it was now bedtime. You and your boys spent the rest of the evening playing games and video-calling family to thank them for their gifts. Micheal was ready for bed, laying snug under the covers, clearly exhausted from his busy day. He pokes his head up just before you two leave his room. “Hey mom, dad?”

“Yeah, sweetheart?” You softly question, turning around to face him.

“Can you read me a story?”

@mattymurdock1021 @she-bleeds-in-white-roses @ashlynhasmanyhyperfixations @idontknowwhattohaveasmyuser @redecoratestan @kpopgirlbtssvt @scarletsloveletter @princess-pebbles-things @messymissy @schneeflocky

[m1ckeyb3rry]

HIII!! this is kokomicentral ur #1 sith fan!! 🙇🏽‍♀️💗 i’m sorry this is gonna be long. part of me wants to cuss you out and the other part of me should have expected this. my jaw dropped after reading friedrich...I AM HEARTBROKEN. it's bittersweet they confessed, but it also feels. i don’t want to say deceitful?? just sad for friedrich’s end knowing he was a rebound. not that i don't believe y/n has feelings for him, she definitely loves him sm ik she was just hurt. friedrich promised to stay in the program FOR HER and died protecting her it’s sooo ☹️ he makes my heart ache

our star of the show, colt my baby YOU SURVIVED I'M SO HAPPY YOU GAVE HIM A HAPPY ENDING!!! it hurts seeming them fall out, would it have been different if friedrich was still alive? :(( i love open endings and i'd like to think colt and y/n communicated their feelings in a healthy way/pace without the fear of death looming on them but realistically... i think they’d sadly stay as friends with mutual respect and love for each other 😭😭 right person wrong time strikes again kdjjs

and our devil in disguise y/n. she is the epitome of deserving more. she is resilient and ridiculously strong in all aspects. i never thought of myself as her when reading, i am farrrr from the person you’ve crafted her to be (maybe that’s good in some areas more than others KNDKA). i've always thought of her as her own person 🥹 just seeing the full circle from wanting to run away with the amatas to living with them in the end... my heart is warm. AND THE POMEGRANATES! THE FUCKING POMEGRANATES! OH YOU'RE SO INSANE. SHE REALLY DID COME BACK :(((

since this is not fully written out i am going to choose peace and tell myself this is not canon 😊 thank u x18472 for posting this, this brings 2021 me closure. love this LOVE YOU. to leave this on a happy note, here’s some fun angst songs i like to associate with our fav boys!! 🫶🏼🫶🏼

colt - little talks/of monsters and men

friedrich - footnote/conan gray

hadrian - the great war/taylor swift

HIII ALDJSJDHSB OMG I’M GOING TO TAKE THAT AS A COMPLIMENT!! brooo friedrich’s ending is so sad like i hope he had death flags the entire time but even still it’s so 😔 to think that he thought he’d live the longest and literally hated the thought but in the end he’s the only one who dies young

YESSS COLT MADE IT 🤩 agreed i think that they would definitely be friends again!! maybe not as close as they once were but they wouldn’t forget how much they loved one another either yk?? right person wrong universe ngl idk if those two ever could’ve ended up together as they were but in a better and more peaceful world they might’ve 🥹

SITH Y/N MY BELOVEDDD to be frank i agree i feel like the more i wrote her the more she began to feel like her own person and a very bossy one at that 😭 she’s the kind of character that WILL drag the entire plot down if you write her ooc so she’s always given me a bit of trouble but she always does end up carrying the story when i need her too!! going through her thought processes and mentality as she grows up in her conditions was probably one of my favorite parts of writing sith 🥹 she really does deserve more but all told i think she’s as happy as she can possibly be!! she even gets to eat pomegranates and live in athyae again it really is full circle with her

AHAHA i’m glad it could bring you some closure fr!! and thank you so much for reading, i said it before but it really did mean so much to me to get your comments back in the day 🙂‍↕️💖 and AHH LITTLE TALKS I LOVE THAT SONG!! truly is very sith coded…same with the great war…taste fr 🫡 ANYWAYSSS love you more and more!! thank you once more and i hope you’ll stop by every now and again and tell me how you’re doing 🫶🏻

[peggyao3]

Relic - Pt. 13 "Come not with a Sword"

PAIRING: Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x Unnamed Ambiguous FMC

SUMMARY: ✧ Dreams are messages from the deep ✧

A woman from the unknown comes to Feyd in his dreams and his nights become his days as he flees to the dreamscape to escape the nightmares that haunt his waking hours.

TAGS: Third person POV, she/her AFAB FMC, explicit sexual content, smut, vaginal sex, vaginal fingering, oral sex, Porn with Plot, Feyd-Rautha's black cum and big cock, Praise Kink, Body Worship, angst/hurt and comfort, drama, fluff, plans within plans, implied/referenced child abuse, implied/referenced abuse, Trauma, mentions of suicidal thoughts, Healing, Strangers to Lovers, falling in love, Vulnerable/ Emotional/Possessive Feyd, Feyd is a sweet baby who did nothing wrong and I WILL pamper him, nurture not nature, Stockholm Syndrome but in a consensual way, lucid dreaming, Implied/Referenced Cannibalism, murder, teaching the universe about feminism, female rage, Frank Herbert would frown, No actually he would kneel in front of me, putting the science and the porn in sci-fi, angst with a happy ending

WORD COUNT: 4.1k

A/N: I apologize for the delay, I've been thinking about the Kinktober prompts a little too hard 🥹 But chapter 13 is ready to be served and I want to thank everyone who takes the time to comment because that literally is the one thing that makes actually writing this instead of just playing it out in my head worth it 💕💕💕 I appreciate you so much.

CW: Suicidal thoughts, implied abuse, something like attempted suicide, but also… be not afraidt

Reposted from my Ao3 💕| Masterlist | Relic Masterlist

Dividers by @saradika-graphics

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Day 15

With the opening door breezes a cool rush from the hallway and in comes Lilia, her gold-speckled eyes like coins of color against the black backdrop as she tries to switch off her smile like one might try and fail to switch off the sun.

Mikhail's sharp jaw turns, lips quirked into a crooked grin as the handmaid's shape flutters past him. His cocky eyes drift to the swell of her ass beneath her white servant's robes, his longing glance cut short by the closing door.

"You're in a good mood." The relic ceases the tender rubbing over her healing port and the delicate layer of new skin under the inconspicuous, shaved patch.

"I thought you weren't watching, forgive me." Lilia misinterprets the woman's quizzical look and scrambles to place the stack of new whalefurs and blankets on the lower end of the bed.

"Wasn't I looking right at you?"

The handmaid counters with an openness that might have cost her her tongue with any of her former Lords or Ladies. "Well, sometimes when you're looking right at me, it seems like you don't see me at all." And she doesn't mean the way the hallowed family or the advisors and generals refuse to see her. She feels like she's a ghost to her Lady sometimes, those faraway eyes twitching in hypnotizing patterns like she's a lucid dreamer dancing through a waking dream.

"An old habit. I'm just… Dissociating. Practicing Harkunnin."

"Without looking at any tapes? I only saw you looking at them once."

The relic pulls one of the furs over her crossed legs on the bed. So soft. Her beloved and her new, eight-arm-legged friend will love them. She deflects quickly: "The new guard, do you know him?"

"Oh, uh, in a way!" Lilia turns to the vanity and wipes at an invisible stain with her sleeve. In the mirror, she catches her Lady's glance, this time anything but dissociated. It almost burns her, to be actually looked at by someone of higher standing, but it's a pleasant burn.

Both women are sniffing each other's lies out like a dog does freshly cut meat in the other room, but Lilia breaks first, throwing up her arms in a gesture of giggly defeat. Fine!

"Mikhail's my husband," the maid blushes and lowers her head. "He wants you to know that he's very happy with his upgraded chair."

"Your husband!" The relic exclaims with a bright jolt of her facial features. "Yes, he told me that three times already." She dismissively swats away the talk about the chair. "I couldn't help but notice the look on his face when you passed him. Looked like he wanted to eat you."

"Well, I hope so." Lilia's bold tone contrasts with the way she awkwardly sits down on the vanity stool, one wiggling leg crossed over the other and her chin buried in her palm.

The woman on the bed bursts out laughing and rubs at her eyes, reclining against the headboard. "I feared he was molesting you. If he was, I'd have shown him how we dealt with molesters on Earth."

"I assure you, my Lady, I can give as good as I can get." Lilia's features shift into something as feral as anything living on Giedi Prime is bound to become. Beneath the chiseled mask of unyielding subservience lurk the same baser instincts that incite any organism. The relic has no trouble at all imagining Lilia and her husband fucking each other silly in their sparse free time.

"Oh, good." Snickering, she points at her handmaid with a sweeping finger gun, the motion awkward in its silliness, misplaced among the radiation and murder. "You tell him."

"Mikhail can be all bark and bite until you get to know him. You just need to know how to pet him right," Lilia diligently explains.

"That sounds like Feyd, to be honest."

"Really?" The maid's bobbing leg freezes mid-air. Not only is it improper to talk about the na-Baron in such a demeaning way, it is also deadly. Her shoulders then drop— because it is also true, which almost makes her even more giggly because of the depravity of it.

"Yes, absolutely." The Earth woman's impish smile dissolves into thoughtful tendrils. "But it's not just that. There's so much more that I get to see." The talk of marriage spins the wheel of her thoughts further. "Forgive me the impolite question, but-"

"Nothing to forgive ever, my Lady!" Lilia butts in.

"I disagree, but… I can't help but wonder, did you marry because you were forced to?" 

"Oh, no." Trustfully, Lilia scoots closer to the bed, toes wagging and fingers drumming on her own cheeks. If anyone will understand her, it's the woman from old Earth. "We married out of love. Mikhail would throw a tantrum if he knew I told you but… I was the one who asked him to marry me." The ambers that are the woman's eyes spark to life with a golden glow. Nourishing sun beams. "And he said yes."

Something green then springs into bloom inside the relic's chest, a leaf to her tender sapling perhaps. Hope, she finds, tastes pink and yellow— cherry blossoms and lemons. A single goodness is enough to peel away her lurching belief that the universe of her people's descendants is inherently poisoned into badness.

"That is wonderful, Lilia. I'm so happy for you. I will make sure that nothing happens to you or your husband." I will make your life better.

The maid blushes purple, eyes lowered to her own knees.

"But that's our task, my Lady, to protect you."

"I don't think anyone can really protect me, but that's fine." She'll just have to adapt. The astronaut is unhappy with the course of her thoughts, the tender leaf ruffled by the winds that tug on it from all directions. She is almost thankful when her handmaid brings up the silly chair again.

"Sooo, about that chair." Lilia purses her lips with a jolly quiver of curiosity. "How did you…?" Her glance sweeps to the cryo pod before she lowers it shamefully.

An electric charge of wary caution prickles along the relic's nerves and she weighs her words with care. If this knee-jerk act of empathy on a desperate night is going to cost her the revelations of her secrets, she is going to hurl herself off that balcony.

Unknowingly, Mikhail saves her from the explanation, knocking then strutting into the room with his slightly o-shaped gait, toolbox in hand, folded chair under his arm.

"M'sorry Ladies," he drawls with an exaggerated extension of the last vowel. "I am to seal that ventilation shaft, confidentially."

Mikhail doesn't seem to give a shit about keeping the relationship to his wife a secret. He seems to give few shits about the proper tone in general. 

"Confidentially?"

"Yes, Ma'am. Na-Baron said so himself, eh." He taps the transponder button behind his ear, its placement quite similar to the relic's fine chip port.

Confidentially. So, the Baron mustn't know that his pet has been taking liberties and befriending the unwelcome guest. Feyd has told her of the many deaths, the many rebirths, Gholas, when he held her tight the other night. Memories embedded in the flesh, a scientific breakthrough lost to a universe's political machinations. It makes her sick as much as it fascinates her.

"You know how to seal a ventilation shaft?" The Earth woman questions with a suspicious lilt.

"I know my way around things, eh. Seen some things, done some things before I joined the troops."

"If it really needs to be done, let me do it!" The engineer quizzically ogles the electrical welder that Mikhail swoops out of the toolbox. 24,000 years later, and some tools haven't changed at all. She's almost yearning to get her hands around it, but Mikhail, whistling something low in his throat, disregards her prompt benevolently.

She hadn't seen to the ventilation hatch sooner, hoping that the being named Glugo would come for a secret visit once more. Now she is forced to watch Lilia's husband climb on the plastic chair (upgraded with an unfoldable flap to rest his legs upon) whose statics are not balanced to carry a standing man.

"The Lady said you were looking at my ass earlier, is that right?" Lilia has jumped up from the stool, sauntering over with a swing to her hips.

"So what if I— huurghh!"  She pokes the back of her husband's thighs, causing his ticklish hamstrings to contract into a twitch. "Ah! Woman-" 

Mikhail sputters a litany of curses in Harkunnin and Lilia has to grab a whole two handfuls of ass to keep the wiry guard from flying off the wobbly chair.

The relic can't help but laugh and laugh, even when her cheeks start hurting. So alien, that feeling, as alien as the colors green, pink and yellow have become.

"Give me an hour and I'll print you a ladder!"

So, love, after all.

It turns out, real love can be born out of any sort of wasteland.

Day 20

The engagement - canceled! How delightful! Things couldn't be going much better for Vladimir Harkonnen. Though there is room for improvement. His darling nephew still sneaks into the concubine wing with its single, occupied quarters each night. Vladimir hadn't expected Feyd-Rautha to recover from the blow of rejection so quickly.

No wedding! It's only a matter of time until the order of robed poison whisperers comes knocking on his orbit and demands that he make it happen. They might even want to install a witchy pestilence in his palace to observe the process. It puts him in the mood for good old-fashioned femicide, but for now he has bigger concerns.

Because Feyd almost looks happier than before and that is decidedly against the rules.

The Baron is nothing if not a kill-joy, and so he waits, half-afloat in a bog of oily bath water and self-complacence.

To kill her like the sorry graftling, that might be a bit much, though he had entertained the idea as early as when he first saw the needy gleam in his nephew's eyes when speaking of that woman. Wouldn't it be fun to have her killed and remade as a Ghola, the same flesh but unable to remember a thing about Feyd-Rautha?

No, no, no - The Baron needs to play his nephew like a fine instrument, as tempting as it might be to punch him like a drum with a stick. With well past 80 years of age, Vladimir is slowly growing tired of mind games.

If the Bene Gesserit are telling the truth, the woman has already had her rebirth. A mummy out of the ice. And she might as well be dead to him, the way she stays in her chambers as silent and unmoving as a corpse. That's all right with the Baron. He doesn't need to see the toy his nephew wets his dick with.

But a proper meeting is long overdue.

And so he waits and exhales herbal vapor into the soggy air, the only sounds being the drip-drip-drip of oily, steaming bath water whenever he lifts his heavy arm, and the pistons of his lung machine.

Then, a hollow rumble shakes the bath crypt's vaulted ceiling. The door opens to a rectangle of light from the hallway and a waft of cold air stirs the lazy molecules, quickly swallowed by thick, muggy air.

A figure cuts through the fumes, broad shoulders, dark eyes gleaming past the fog. So anxious that boy.

"Ah, there you are, my boy. You've left me waiting. Too busy to indulge your old uncle in a bit of your precious time?"

There are no guards, no slaves. Feyd-Rautha stands stiff as a board in front of his uncle's tub, knowing what it means. He offers no response.

"You've been spending an awful lot of time with your new toy." The Baron's neck wobbles as he tilts his head.

"So? What's a new toy if I don't play with it?"

Vladimir laughs and laughs until his lungs hurt from the rotting disease inside. The pistons of the bulbous breathing apparatus that hovers like a moon in his back jump up and down with wheezing jolts. "I'm starting to feel a bit neglected."

Anxiety is barely the right word to describe the crippling tightness behind her sternum when she walks down the bug-like bowels of the palace pyramid. After almost three weeks of being huddled up in the illusionary safety of her chambers, her advance down the hallway feels like she had just given birth to herself, more vulnerable even than she had been when the sisterhood freed her from her sarcophagus and she came out spitting the thawed, amniotic fluid.

Guarded by Mikhail, his presence does little to brighten her mood today. And then he stands still in the middle of the corridor, footfall stopping so that the only sound she's left with is her thundering heart.

"Ain't allowed to go closer." His jaws and neck are ramrod stiff as he jerks his chin to the far door. Tall and glinting black, it may as well have led to hell. "But you go. It'll be fine."

Fine is no word that agrees with her when she is invited by the Baron Harkonnen himself without a given reason. She didn't even have the time to have Feyd in the training hall informed.

"Okay," is all she manages with a small voice, not looking at her guard for affirmation. Mikhail is glad for it, because anxiety is ticking in the veins under his temples. He doesn't know what the Baron wants of his new Lady, but he knows of the dead slaves that are frequently carted from the bath chambers to the meat plants. "Please don't let anyone into my room."

"Yes, my Lady."

And so she walks with only a bobbing glowglobe left for company and her gun in its makeshift holster which sits snug against her waist, concealed by a jacket whose armpits have long grown clammy with anxious sweat.

Come quietly, don't knock, the note had said. Gingerly, her fingers wrap around the cold, bulbous handle and quietly push the door open, just a crack so she can slip through.

She finds herself blinded, venturing into the dense fog that nearly takes her breath away. It smells of herbs and metal, the scent so thick she can taste it at the back of her throat. Immediately, her jacket clings to her arms from the humidity. The sound of distant bubbling drones out her quiet footsteps on black, slippery tiles.

The room takes shape and structures emerge from the thick mist, an oval contour, a pale mountain, a person standing at the side. She parts the fog and freezes with a thousand little icicles in her chest.

Feyd-Rautha stands next to his uncle's bathtub, his tunic discarded, his bare shoulders milky and damp as oily, scented steam curls off them, muscles rolling as he turns to face the unexpected visitor. His teeth clench tight, a muscle snapping like a whipcord across his jaw.

Her poor beloved looks at her with such horror, she may as well have been the apparition of her own naked corpse. His hands are frozen at the hem of his trousers, pushed below his hip bones with just the top of his flaccid cock peeking out.

He is the minotaur at the center of a prison-maze and his woman is the gun with its cold muzzle pressed directly at his forehead. Fog slips from the bath chamber into his mind and the world begins to spin.

The woman's dumbstruck gaze sways slowly to the Baron who sits half-submerged in oily liquid. The top of his massive, fleshy chest wobbling just above the surface. Veins are stretched thin across the expanse of skin, each blood vessel leaving a purple imprint against his sickly pallor. Her glassy eyes remind Vladimir of his dear nephew's when he was still young and sweet, afraid and confused.

The Baron smirks, lifts one fat arm on the back of the tub with a playful bat of his fingers, rings clanking on the tiles, as if to say 'Hello, little pawn'.

Glass shatters in her eyes and if she could strike him down with anger, she would. The Baron's meaty finger twitches to his thickest ring that hugs his middle finger like a capsule and the fog around him snaps and ripples. A shield powered by a tiny Holtzman generator, and the first time she sees one in action. The hidden gun at her ribs taunts her with its uselessness.

Helpless like a fly in a web, she averts her gaze from the thick, white tarantula patriarch who mocks her with glinting, beady eyes below his saggy brows. She has no weapon, no tool to obliterate the devastation in her beloved's eyes, the humiliation that has burrowed itself so deep that neither fingers nor knives could claw out its festering tumors.

"Feyd…" Her voice dies with his cold, wet stare.

"Isn't my dear nephew pretty like this?" The Baron drones, stirring the waters with a gooey, fat knee. "But I suppose you've seen him already. Just remember that I've seen him more often." Seen him— and touched him.

Feyd snaps into a crouch, picks up his belt and tunic, long limbs turned into stiff, hard rods. With no sound besides his feverish breath, he rushes past her. The touch of tender fingers on his naked belly makes him jump like a wounded foal and he finds his voice, a low-pitched bellow that echoes off the cavernous chamber walls a thousandfold.

"Get away from me, woman!"

The door bangs open and out the fog bursts a haunted bull, stampeding down the corridor. Veins across his hands and arms are swollen thick from the humidity, blood races through them hard and fast as punches the glowglobe to shards. He slings the belt around his hips and yanks the tunic over his head savagely, his own blood running down his knuckles. Mikhail has wisely removed himself.

"Feyd, I'm so sorry, please wait, please let me—"

"I said get the fuck away from me!" His voice cracks, his uncle's laughter rings in his ears like death knells. The Baron has poisoned her now with an image she will see every time she lies with him, every time she looks at him. Her steps grow quicker. So do his.

"I didn't know what he wanted!" She pleads. "If I had known, I would have killed him straight from the door!"

"No one can kill him!" Feyd-Rautha spits over his shoulder, takes a sharp turn, away from the concubines' corridor, dizzy from the fog, dizzy from the rage. "I've tried, too many times!" Bracing himself against the wall, he runs onward, collecting dirt under his damp soles.

His darling calls for him. This time, he draws his blade and her little footsteps falter at his back. Immediately, his throat draws tight. Wetness blurs his sight and he wants to curl up, curl up with his blade, with his blade tucked against his tummy. His bloodied palm finds the panel to unlock his own chambers.

There is no peace there.

A tiny sob from behind him makes him jolt over the threshold. He doesn't want her pity, he wants her rage. He wants to die.

She is quicker than the closing door and bursts inside his room together with him. A quick glance across the large room, vaulted ceilings, glossy windows with the shutters half closed, the furniture hard and uninviting.

Despite Feyd's build and height, she manages to tackle him to the ground, or rather, he stumbles in his hysterical attempt to pull away from her. He rolls on his back, hand on her tummy in a half-hearted attempt to keep her from crawling over him.

"Please, please, please, you're panicking. I'm here!"

Yes, that's the exact fucking problem. She was there.

Feyd-Rautha laughs, tears streaking from his eyes to his ears, tongue peeking out between his blackened teeth. He presents his blade which gleams in tear-wet astigmatism. Real pretty. It would be even prettier embedded in his neck, dripping with his blood. His darling's belly rises and falls under his palm in quick fearful breaths. 

"What d-do you want with the blade? Please, put it down, please put it down, please—"

Oh God, it's not at all meant for her, she realizes when Feyd-Rautha points the glinting blade at his throat. It's meant for him. 

Her fingers lock like vises around his wrist, nails digging into the thin, white skin. Feyd giggles, biceps clenched as he guides the knife slowly to its soft target, free hand sprawled across her belly, twisted into the flesh. To push her away or to pull her closer; maybe both.

Is he really trying, or just trying to scare her? Her arms aren't really stronger than his, yet she somehow manages to drag the blade away from his jugular, clutching his wrist so hard, his carpal bones are bruising her palm.

"Stop this, stop this, stop this!" She yells with each hearty tug.

The sharp tip jerks down and scrapes over his collar bone, a little curve, a  crescent shape. Feyd gasps a wet little moan, giggling through his stinging tears as blood slips down his shoulder, warm and wet. His woman fumbles for something under her jacket and he finds himself presented with the barrel of a gun made of half-transparent plastic. He nearly goes cross-eyed before he starts laughing.

"Yes, shoot me, my darling!" Feyd-Rautha slurs hysterically, twisting his fingers hard into her stomach. He nearly grows hard from the idea of his rotten brain matter splattering across the gross tiles of this insidious room, finally delivered from evil. No one would be better to do it than the angel from his dreams. She'd have to burn his corpse afterwards, so the Baron can't have him brought back.

He still holds the blade, metal tremoring above his neck, now contained by only the counterforce of her non-dominant hand. Her clammy fingers fumble with the hammer of the gun. 

"Put the blade down, or do I need t-to shoot your fucking hand off, Feyd?" She pleads and his eyes snap up with sudden fury, mouth twisting into hardness, eyes spilling over with shiny tears. His arm flexes, pulling her clenched hand right with him in its pathetic belief that she could stop him with the strength of her body. The black-hot tip kisses his neck.

The relic snaps the gun up and points it at herself, the muzzle cold and grounding against her damp temple.

Laughter fades at once. Feyd-Rautha's brows furrow and his grip slackens, deeply disturbed. "My darling… What are you doing?"

"Drop the blade right now!" 

He obeys without thinking, weapon clattering across the tiles before his palms find her hips, clinging to them in fear. "What are you doing with that gun? Stop that— You c-can't leave me."

"And you can't leave me." With a deep exhale and smoldering eyes, she places the gun right next to Feyd's knife, a tiny click of plastic on marble. His fingers clench, his belly where she's seated jumps with quick breaths. 

"I still love you," she sighs and Feyd-Rautha's entire body goes slack. Maybe that's what he needed to hear all along. "Of course, I still love you!" 

Her voice cracks, her shoulders slump. Crying, she throws herself over him, forcing her arms around his neck to serve as pillows for his head. Cheek to cheek, she kisses his tear-streaked skin. Feyd's arms slide home around her back, holding her to him like a blanket.

"I'm so sorry."

"It's okay," she murmurs. "It's okay. You're my love and nothing could ever change that." Brief laughter tickles his ear. "When I woke up, I thought I belonged nowhere. But that's not true, because I belong with you and you belong with me. I think I've been floating through space for 24,000 years just to get to you."

He is so ashamed. He never wants to come back out of her embrace.

"I'll find a way," she promises, a sweet whisper against his ear. Already, the gears have started turning in her head and her interface twinkles like a shooting star to make a wish. "We'll kill him."

Feyd wants nothing more than to believe her. His fingers trail up her spine, to the nape of her neck. His flesh burns with vile memories. "Can you— Can you still touch me and make it go away?"

"Of course, my love. I will make it go away. I'll make it better." Her voice trembles from the decision she's made. "I will make it all better."

Come not here in the sun! Come not with a sword! Come not crying over a naked corpse! Come not with a disturbed mind!

- Druth (Hellblade)

A/N: To distract you from your killing fantasies, I think this is the right time to mention that Lilia and Mikhail are my lovely bestie's and my OCs in Dune disguise and I love them so absurdly much, your honor 🥹❤️

FEYD TAG LIST

@nostalgichoya, @forgedfromthestars, @sweetiee-o, @missbingu, @minedofmoria

@sebastianswallows, @charmingballoon, @flower-frog, @welliah, @aoi-targaryen

@coastalcowgirl35, @esolean, @szapizzapanda, @tatertooted, @sunny747

@ughdontbeboring, @meetmeatyourworst

[rescue-ram]

Finished my rewatch of S1

This has been my first experience binge watching MASH- I don't think I've ever watched more than 4 episodes in a row before, and usually not in order. So it was really interesting actually watching the show this way...

Hawkeye- his characterization stood out to me. While he's definitely not doing a Donald Sutherland impression, his portrayal is closer to movie than late series. Very laconic. In "Bananas, Crackers, and Nuts" there's a line where Frank calls him "a rock" which retrospectively feels like a joke, but in S1 isn't- he's clearly very stable and pretty unflappable.

I actually was tallying the amount of times Trapper and Hawkeye explicitly hook up with nurses and the crimes they commit lol and was surprised by how low the number is for both lol. Between the two of them they hooked up with women in 7 episodes, though they're referenced as doing it more often and they flirt/get shot down/refuse sex a little more often, bringing total up to 12. Only two episodes really featured pranks, which was also surprising

I know Major Fred C. Dobbs is in the running for worst MASH episode but I liked it lol. It was funny and had some quality TrapHawk moments, and the Hawnk kiss at the end made me laugh even as I added it to the rap sheet

Just tallying up the days that pass on screen gets us to just over 3 months, giving me little a hope for my horrible timeline ldkkdjf

I really liked the recurring characters- they didn't have a lot of depth per se but they made things feel fleshed out. It was nice having recurring nurses I could recognize and I will miss my boy Ugly John. God that we lived in the alternate universe where the writers had figured out what to do with Oliver...

Also was thinking about how a lot of the racist moments kinda come from the writers trying to engage in a neutral-to-well-meaning way but alas they were all white guys raised in a white supremacist culture and cannot escape that influence so it comes out horrifically dated, but I think they do try more in the early seasons

I had forgotten what a minor character Mulcahy is in S1. He gets a couple little moments, but I think Margie and Dish have more scenes lol...

Trapper my baby Trapper, he does not necessarily have a lot to do besides be lovable but he does it well. Him providing pediatric care for local kids is deffo going in my note document for Shit Trapper Is Doing lol...

Henry and Radar's relationship 🥹 I really liked both characters, scamp!Radar is so good, and Henry is so funny with these little moments of genuine wisdom and compassion... Good shit

I really liked both Margaret and Frank, not a lot to say beyond that, but they're just so good. Just enough nuance to make 'em pop.

Gaaaaah many more thoughts than I can type, but in conclusion I Love MASH

[linnetagain]

Hello dear Linnetagain,

First, this is going to be a long ask, I am afraid. I was just planning to send an ask to you about The Season, but suddenly it turned into an ode to Linnetagain post. Sorry in advance🥹.

I would like to extend my most sincere thanks and gratitude towards you. You capture Astarion and Gale’s energy in the most unique and magical way. The Bloodweave fandom sets a considerably high bar when it comes to the quality of fan works, but yours hit differently. When I first read “The First Light,” it was like an epiphany. Oh man, I am still amazed by the selection of the poems and what a good match “Do Not Go Gentle into That Good Night” and Hozier’s “First Light” make together. To me, that was the core of Gale’s aesthetic. Still, remembering this fanfic so fondly and embracing a character so deeply makes me question my sanity sometimes, lol.

Anyway, this series has a special place in my heart. The way you grasp Gale’s characterization amazes me. To be frank, this applies to every piece you wrote for them. I know you have many WIPs lined up next, but please do not feel pressured to update anything in haste. Your works are truly inspiring. I read “Howl’s Moving Castle,” and finally, we are at the reason why I want to send this ask.

I keep thinking about who is who in this story. I mean, in an aesthetic sense, Gale should align with Howl more, right? But Astarion’s dashing and quirky nature, his tendency to lapse into petty vanity, makes me wonder if he’s better suited for Howl. But what really consolidated my opinion was that both Astarion and Howl are cowards at heart. They tend to avoid conflicts and escape from the consequences of their actions. I don’t know if it’s wise to describe Howl as a “no-plans guy,” but their deflective attitudes are quite similar.

Thank you so much!!! You are the second person to tell me you've read Howl because of Season and that is genuinely one of the greatest compliments I think I've ever had!!

They definitely both have things in common with Howl - other than being hot and annoying ;) I can absolutely imagine Astarion being a bit of a player, as well as having a breakdown over his hair being dyed the wrong colour lol. I don't think he'd run around in a Welsh rugby jersey tho! Similarly for Gale, I can absolutely see him making a pact with Calcifer and giving up his heart for power, but I can't then see him refusing to use that power and running. I think he's far more likely to use and potentially abuse it. They do both have the traditional outline of the hero's journey to their character arc though, as does Howl!

Also thank you for still remembering First Light!! It seems like an age ago that I wrote that, I'm so glad that it lives on beyond my writing of it! I will eventually finish And All Things End, too, I promise!

[maretinelli]

AND I WANT YOU

Billy Russo X fem!reader

Summary: They met in the navy, and from then on they became best friends. However, there was always an extra feeling within the two of them.

Words: 1.6K+

Warnings: Mentions of sex, harassment, navy, injuries, but cute and protective Billy.

Author: Always remembering that English is not my first language, I apologize if there are some errors in the middle of the story. And second, I made this story just before bed, I hope you like it🥹

MASTERLIST

Billy and Y/n had been friends since they went to the navy together.

Of course, at first the man kept hitting on her and that irritated Y/n deeply. Well, she was there to save the country, not have sex with a man in her platoon.

As much as she found him terribly attractive and even hot.

She didn't have much interaction with him in the first few weeks they went to serve. It was a few exchanges about the service and other than that, Y/n avoided talking much as she was the only woman in the group that was assigned.

Which made her life very complicated.

However, there was a day when Y/n had injured her rib and had to remove the top part of her uniform to see how the injury was. Thus, having to just keep the black top he wore.

Which caused some stares from the men who were in the tent with her.

Billy Russo was also in the tent that day. But he was avoiding looking at the woman, or making any comments, as he knew the woman needed space and was tending to the wound.

And it would also be rude to joke about this kind of situation.

"Nice waist, Y/n!! I bet she has a lot of mobility in bed" One of the guys from Y/n's squad says when he enters the tent and looks at her shirtless trying to bandage her rib.

"Shut up, Thompson!!" She says through clenched teeth.

The last thing she wanted right now was harassment.

Billy, who was organizing his supplies and helping Frank with his bandages, turned around, ready to tackle the man if he said anything else.

"Calm down sweetie, I'm just praising you" the guy comes closer to Y/n and she shrinks.

"Will you please stay away from me?"

"Stop, don't you love it?" He gets closer to Y/n.

"SHE ALREADY SAID TO LEAVE!!" Billy appears behind Y/n and says loudly to Thompson.

"Look, look. It looks like the female in the group has already found her male to take care of her."

Billy tries to lunge at him, but Y/n drops the bandage and punches Thompson in the face.

"I ALREADY TOLD YOU, SHUT UP" she says and then flinches. "Fuck..." She falls to her knees on the floor and sees more blood coming from her rib.

The other guys forcibly remove Thompson, while Billy kneels next to Y/n on the floor.

"Hey, hey. It's okay!! Let's take care of this" he says softly, helping Y/n get up so they can take care of the wound.

After that, a beautiful friendship between the two was born. Or maybe, some more feelings too.

Right after they got out of the navy, Y/n helped Billy found Anvil and he made her the vice president of the company.

Both grew up in the company and their friendship had lasted for a number of years. They became practically inseparable.

They went out drinking every Friday night, one Saturday a month they would have lunch or dinner at their favorite restaurant, there was also a movie night, and sometimes they would even go out in similar clothes. Anyone who didn't know them would bet they were a couple.

What one of them always wanted, after that day in the tent when they were in the navy. But seeing Billy parade around with a new woman every week made her suppress her feelings and keep them under lock and key.

Until one day, drunk on a Friday night. She ended up falling under the CEO's charm and sleeping with him. The next day they were both confused, but admitted they liked it. Which resulted in them being best friends with benefits. Every time one needed the other physically, it was just a matter of making a call.

However, besides Y/n. Billy also had feelings for her and after that night, everything blossomed even more.

Well, for the moment. It was a Saturday morning and Billy was in his office at Anvil. While Y/n was in her apartment, preparing for a hearing.

Because, before she was vice-president of Anvil and before volunteering to work in the navy, the woman had a degree in law and worked in the New York forums.

Billy was still dealing with paperwork when the office door opens and then closes. Thus, feeling a presence there.

"No one asked if I could authorize you to go up" Billy says, with a smirk, already knowing it was Y/n, who had entered the room desk.

"No need for that, everyone loves me." She says and then sits down in the armchair in front of Billy's desk. "Besides, I'm the deputy owner. I don't need anyone's authorization" She says carefree, while going through Billy's desk. Taking some papers and reading or messing with decorations.

"Damn" Billy looks at her laughing. "You're attacked today, right?? Is it a lack of sex? I'll sort that out" she says, lining up some papers and standing up.

"Ha.ha.ha. Very funny you Billy Russo. But as much as I want to" She puts her hand on her chest. "I don't need sex today. I'm just mad because my car broke down and I had to take it to the mechanic. It's going to be there for the whole next week" she plops down in the armchair and turns to see Billy walking around the room.

"Ah, that's why you came here then. You want a ride to lunch" he smiles.

Y/n gets up and stops in front of her best friend.

"What do you think, honey?" Y/n says patting his shoulder and whispering close to Billy's mouth.

He smiles his mischievous smile and Y/n walks away laughing.

"Let's go, I'm starving. Not to mention the stress that this hearing is putting me through" Y/n says walking to the door and Billy stops behind her.

"hey, hey, hey!!"

"What it was?"

"Are you wearing jeans??" He asks holding back a laugh.

Billy knew the woman hated wearing jeans. She got so used to wearing dress pants due to hearings and attending forums, that she ended up hating wearing jeans.

"Ahh. Yes, I had to use it" Y/n complains, throwing her head back and making room for Billy to walk through the door and out of the office. "All, but ALL, of my formal clothes are due for washing and all I have left are these jeans and a long-sleeved shirt." She says walking to the elevator, with Billy following behind. "I don't know how I'm going to go to the hearing in the afternoon"

"That's your problem, because you look hot in those pants." He slaps her ass with his hand and she laughs, entering the elevator.

"Wow, this helped me a lot. Thanks Bill!!" She says holding back a laugh and then they move on to another topic, until they arrive at Billy's car.

“But then…” Y/n begins, as she buckles the passenger seat and Billy starts the car. "How are you with Madani...?" She says more seriously and Billy notices.

"Ah. It's going..." He says with the car running, but still not driving. "I kind of broke up with her..."

Y/n quickly looks at him, scared.

"What? I thought I was in love with her." Y/n says looking at Billy, who had both hands on the steering wheel. "I know you said it was just for work. But lately you've been talking about her so much, I thought you were falling in love."

"I've never fallen in love with anyone" He says looking at her.

Y/n feels a pang in her chest. As if someone had put a knife to the heart and turned it around.

"Ah..." She looks away.

"No one until they see you" Billy says and turns to her. Y/n looks blankly at Bill. "Ever since I saw you in the tent, when we were assigned to work together in the navy, a part of me fell in love with you. Even though you hated me and fought with me for the annoying flirtations" he says laughing. "However, after that day that I saw you vulnerable with the wound on your rib and with Thompson on your foot bothering you, I realized that I was feeling something for you. There I realized that I was in love. And in those years that we spent together as best friends were the best I've ever had. And when I knew I loved you, that's when I saw you wake up next to me, after that wonderful night. And I also knew that I couldn't tell you because it would be ruining our friendship and I don't want you. away from me. So yeah, I used Madani to try to forget you. But girl, you're not easy to forget" Billy says with a laugh and some tears in his eyes. Which was rare to see.

Y/n had been crying softly for a while now and that last sentence made her laugh, relieving the tension.

"Billy, I love you" She says and then he looks into her eyes "I've loved you for years, and I didn't know I felt the same way. That night in your apartment made it all blossom even more in me."

Billy smiles.

"I feel relieved" he smiles awkwardly. "I thought I would lose you forever"

With that, the car was off again.

"You'll never lose me. I'm here, right here. And all yours if you want" She says running her hands over Billy's cheeks.

"And I want you" He says and then breaks the space between them and gives Y/n a completely passionate kiss. A different kiss from the one that happened that night in his apartment.

They separate as soon as they run out of air. But Billy puts his forehead against Y/n's.

"What are we now? Best friends? Friends with benefits and lovers? Boyfriends??"

"I don't know..." She says. "But we can know. Take me on a date first. Let's start from the beginning"

Billy smiles and moves away from her.

"Okay. From the beginning..." he smiles and puts one not on the steering wheel, but still facing her. "My name is William Russo and I'm completely in love with you. No, better!! I'm loving you"

Y/n laughs at the phrase and Billy looks even more in love.

Author: I can't see any hot men, which I already want to write about😚🪄

[luthienne]

hey lovely hi! I wanted to ask you something about writing. First of all i love love love the way you write matt and Frank! So on point and detailed and so well observed. I wanted to know how do you understand them i mean what are your ways to study a character?

I hope I'm making sense and im sorry for being a bother 😭 love you.

hi first of all i love you sm for this oh my god?? you're not a bother at all, i could talk about matt forever. writing him true to character is the highest compliment i could ask for 🥹

several thoughts come to mind — first i think of the characters as they are individually, then as they are tied to one another; once tied together through the threads of the story, there is no separating them. just as there is no separating the choices they make now from all the choices in the past that led up to this moment. where do the boundaries of the character as laid out in the source material brush up against the boundaries of the character as i understand them & what archetypal role are they fulfilling (if relevant).

also the mutability of the boundary between archetypes: i.e. matt descends into 'hell' to bring frank out, orpheus role; matt hears & carries everything, god-like role; matt accepts this as a call to action, hero; matt takes it upon himself to punish these 'evildoers', devil; matt takes these sins upon himself, christ figure; matt is wounded in his noble pursuit, martyr figure. & how do his roles change in relation to the characters he shares a scene with — fisk (god-like in seemingly limitless influence) / matt (hero/martyr).

what life is there for a hero outside of their duty in a story like this? what room is there for him to be human? that's what i want to know. so i take what we know from what we've been given:

matt is the son of a boxer -> he grows up with the inherent understanding that two things can be true at once: hands capable of love can also be capable of violence

matt, as a child, saves an old man and loses his sight -> he accepts at a very young age the concept of heroic acts & their consequences (inevitability)

matt’s father chooses to die a 'hero' rather than live as a flawed but present father -> better to be a hero, to live and die by those familiar consequences than to be a flawed but present person (2nd ex. of heroes and their consequences, inevitability)

matt’s next father figure is violent but it is through that violence he learns to navigate an overwhelming world -> violence = love

stick leaves, like his father left, like his mother left -> to love is to lose (inevitability)

matt is only human, after all, it's what's most compelling about him as a character. and the show really did let us sit in those long moments of quiet witness to matt's undeniable humanity. he is flawed, he stumbles in fights, he can’t catch his breath, his faith buckles under the weight of his grief; he doesn't understand how to be human, how to maintain relationships, how to reconcile the darkest parts of the world and of himself with his faith in humanity and belief in redemption. the world is overwhelming to him on every sensory level. every touch is a modified blow? he lives that. he looks outside of himself for light (foggy, faith). when he reaches his breaking point, he breaks rather than turn to the people he loves because of the lessons he internalized as a child. stick left because matt loved, despite everything. despite everything, his love > his rage (bc his rage is his grief & his grief is another face of his love).

even after foggy finds out matt's secret life of physical violence, he still refers to him as "my soft-hearted partner" because it's true, matt cannot help but love & recognize humanity in others. it's because of this that he feels called to balance two unsustainably contradictory lives: using his voice to fight for redemption in court; taking it into his own hands when the law fails. taking their blood onto himself, by himself.

and that is the only touch he allows himself to experience—violence. blood on his knuckles, in his mouth, in his throat. and when his body is torn open and his secrets bared through his wounds, we get another glimpse into the reality of heroes and their consequences. foggy is not treated as an audience stand-in to giddily marvel at matt's abilities and how cool they are, he's heartbroken. he’s fucking devastated. his best friend is bleeding out on his apartment floor. he doesn't want matt to die. he doesn't want matt to be daredevil, he doesn’t want matt to be a hero — because foggy, more than anyone, understands matt's humanity and mortality. and foggy, more than anyone, selfishly wants matt to be his friend first. let hell’s kitchen take care of itself. why should matt die for a community that doesn’t love him like foggy loves him? that doesn’t know him like foggy knows him? he knew matt before he became a story. their time at columbia grounds their friendship & grounds matt to a life that is as close to normal as any comicbook story. they stay up late studying, they drink a little too much, they live together and achieve a kind of domesticity that comes easy to foggy but utterly incomprehensible to everything matt knew before foggy. we see a glimpse at a life with foggy that represents a gentle kind of safety and happiness — everything matt has been denied in his life until then. everything that the momentum of the story demands matt cannot keep (as hero).

and then there's frank. composed of rigid codes and immovable beliefs, just as much as matt, but on the other side of the line matt has drawn in the sand. that line represents matt’s faith in humanity and belief in redemption. despite living the worst of it, despite bearing the brunt of it. matt can't lose frank because matt never had frank; and yet matt and frank hold an inherent understanding of one another that no one else can. two sides of the same coin: unwavering & fatal sense of duty that walks them in a winding but inevitable line toward their respective fates; acceptance of the roles life has given them in what life has taken from them. it's not that they want to die, it's just that they’ve lived so long in the depths of their own private grief that they can’t see living outside of them.

so of course foggy doesn't want to matt to be a hero because there is no story where the hero comes home unscathed, there is no story where the hero is not brought to his knees. to love matt is to accept he could lose matt. either through death or through his inevitable transformation into something foggy may not recognize.

(now matt's unwritten rules by which he lives are bleeding into other characters' lives, consequences spiraling outward & outward)

a perilous thing began with wanting to explore this idea: a story that revolves around the moment when the hero is brought to their knees (figuratively & literally) that marks the separation of who they were before and who they must become after (transformation), if there is to be an after -> internal vs external consequences; forced passivity; how does the hero come back from that & who is he if/when he comes back from that. is he recognizable? i also wanted to look at the hero & the story through someone else's eyes, someone who could be more objective than me, more objective than foggy (whose love for matt clouds his observations, as it did in light perception). and who could objectively understand matt's actions & motivations better than frank? the anti-hero and matt's foil.

so i first look at the character through the lens of the story that’s been told and then the story i want to tell, i look at him through the lens of other characters and i assemble a picture from there. i look at matt through the events of his life, through his relationship with violence & his relationship with his very mortal body. unlike other superheroes he is not invincible, he is not bulletproof, he is not capable of flying, or softening a long fall; he is not capable of throwing his adversaries across a room, he is barely capable of saving himself from his own self-destructive choices. he has a damaged & unbearably human body. everything he can do he has fought tooth and nail for. he doesn't have superpowers like telekinesis or lasers that come out of his eyes; he has loss, he has grief, he has rage. we can all relate to that. he has a voice that is capable of giving a second chance to others (in court) but he lives and dies a thousand deaths inside of the silence at his core he can't find his way out of. his inability to communicate his grief or desires in a bearable way.

perhaps he finds redemption through saving others because he doesn't believe he, himself, is otherwise worthy of redemption. if he did, he would relinquish his duty as hero, he would live a quiet & happy life of domesticity with foggy. perhaps in another world he does. he lays down his mantle, or he lives in a world where he never had to take it up. he's just matt, foggy's soft-hearted partner.

[munson-blurbs]

TUI 15

BUG. MORNING SEXY TIME. A BROKEN CONDOM. BREEDINGKINK!EDDIE.

“God, I love you.” HE SAID IT!!!!

“Because it wasn’t about sex when you calmed me down after the parent-teacher conference. It wasn’t about sex when you taught Harris how to read and bowl and be a better person than I’ll ever be. It wasn’t about sex when you cheered me on during our last gig, and it wasn’t about sex when I saw you holding Ettie.” (He mentioned her with Ettie!😩) “And even after having sex, it isn’t about sex. It’s about you being the one for me. I love you, I love you, I love you.” *Screams like a fucking banshee*

Inviting her with him and Harris for the weekend 💕

Lil man Harris excited to see his ms. sweetheart pick him up from school 🥰

he leans in to Jeff, whispering “I told her,” ending the statement with a grin. “My man!” Jeff grabs Eddie’s shoulder and gives it a small shake. “Let me know when to buy my tux for the wedding.” WE LOVE JEFF, YOUR HONOR.

Jason is a limp noodle ass bitch 🤣

BABY HARRIS AS FRANK!?!? UGH MY HEART

The fact that there are actually people like Jason who still bully people and think it’s actually funny is just so… sad 😂

“Are you sure you’re okay with this?” “Positive.”

My soul can’t handle this chapter…. Or the fact that there’s angst ahead 😩 WHY BUG!! WHY!?! *knowing damn well I will love it* Love you and this lil almost family. 🥹💗

*me knowing I can’t handle the angst about to come my way

B, you know I gotta sneak in a little breeding kink Eddie wherever I go.

This "I love you" has been 15 chapters in the making...it had to be cute and meaningful. My goal was feet-kicking, squealing fluff, so I'm glad that this was achieved 🥰

Jeff is no Mac Daddy Wayne, but he definitely gets an honorable mention.

Jason is a limp noodle ass bitch (both canonically and in TUI) and we do not have time for his bullshit. I should've written Eddie punching him, tbh.

Harris is the cutest lil Frank Sinatra, and I actually teared up a bit writing that part, but that could also be because my grandma was a fan of Frank Sinatra as well.

YOU CAN HANDLE THIS ANGST, B! IF YOU CAN GET THROUGH CHAPTER 4, YOU CAN GET THROUGH ANYTHING!