#and disappointing to see from the elders in this fandom

[survivalove]

imagine you a shipper promote your ship’s shipweek on another app because you notice a lot more shippers and artists making works of your ship on that one than on tumblr

imagine a mod from tumblr comes in and says that anyone’s efforts that can’t be found on tumblr will NOT be acknowledged however you are “free” to post wherever you like!

imagine someone says they will bring your work to tumblr to the moderators if you can’t share it on here yourself

imagine the same person being publicly accused of stealing because they didn’t “ask for permission” to be a conduit for creators who are not on tumblr

imagine imagine imagine

[peachpitfics]

Wildest Dreams

Fandom: Bridgerton

Summary: Your Father has betrothed you to his eldest, most despicable friend. You confide in your closest friend, Benedict Bridgerton, that you wish your first time could be with somebody else, somebody you liked.

Length: 3.5k

Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x fem!reader

Content Warnings: Propositioning a friend, first time, oral sex (female receiving), fingering, penetrative sex, vaginal sex, unprotected sex, cream pie, orgasm.

a/n: Wildest Dreams is part i of iii ~ requested by anon here.

Bridgerton master list (tag list)

The blood drained from your face, your hands clasped together in clammy nervousness – your father had just told you that since you have failed to successfully find a husband within the first year on the marriage mart, he will be arranging a betrothal between yourself and Lord Roger Howard. Lord Howard was six and sixty, he was your father’s eldest friend. Every interaction you ever witnessed was filled with contempt and disrespect, especially with service staff. His words were often filled with bigotry and unfairness. You found him repulsive, his yellowing chipped teeth in his villainous smile. The way his poorly maintained fingernails curled at the ends. His white moustache stained into unsightly colours from cigar smoke. The thought of having to be near this man, be intimate with this man, nearly drove you toward deaths door.

Your knees shook, standing from your armchair in the sitting room, not speaking a word to your father as you exited. Scurrying up the stairs, throwing yourself onto your bed, you felt your heart was about to burst out of your chest. Tears streamed down your face, you did your best to suck in deep breaths, but panic continued to wash over you. There was nothing you could do to save yourself from this fate. There had been some suitors interested in you, but you had chosen to wait, to see if the one person you had wanted would make himself available to you. Now it was too late, those suitors had moved on with other young ladies, and the man you wanted was nowhere to be seen.

Your lady’s maid knocked meekly on the door, having come to prepare you for this evening’s ball. The Queen would be there, and you knew she would be disappointed in this match your father had forced upon you, not that that would help you.

“Shall we get the family jewels out miss? I hear it is to be quite an exciting night” You could tell she was putting it on, trying to sound excited. It seemed to come off as patronizing instead.

“Whatever you should think is appropriate” You tried to keep your feelings to yourself, but the streaks through your makeup sold you out at first glance. You spent the rest of your preparation in silence, usually the two of you indulged in a little gossip, it was supposed to be fun.

All evening you hid behind larger groups, behind servers carrying trays of champagne, doing your best to ensure the inevitable could not happen. Finally, considerably late in the evening, your closest friend deigned to arrive. Almost surging across the dance floor and into Benedict’s side, you linked arms and impishly whisked him out through the conservatory doors.

“Miss Y/n” Benedict exclaimed, “What is the meaning of this?”.

You breathed heavily, ducking, and weaving through overgrown plants and florals. You scouted each entrance, paranoia clinging to your side like a child in a sack race.

“My father has committed a most heinous act” You spill to Benedict, there is only concern etched on his face, “I am to be married to Lord Howard”. Your breath never steadied, sweat beaded where your forehead met your hair line. There was that panic you remembered so fondly, only hypervigilance had eliminated that feeling from the centre of your chest.

“Oh lord,” Benedict’s mouth hung open, utterly flabbergasted, “I cannot believe he would do that to you” Both of his hands found their way to your shoulders in compassion.

“And yet he has. My own father has bargained me away to some elder beast! There is nothing I can do to stop it” Your hands ran through your hair, untangling one of the twists.

Benedict did not know what to say, all he could do was lurch forward and take you into his arms. His strong arms reached around you, pulling you tight. The sound of his steady breath and rhythmic heartbeat calmed you quickly.

“When I was a little girl, I wished on a falling star I would find someone who loved me as their equal. I now wish for that same thing on this very night. To think that I have wasted my life dreaming about love, finding someone like me, with the same interests, the same age as me even!” You thought aloud. Benedict was always someone you could tell your innermost thoughts to, he never judged you once, and he was the kindest of listeners.

Benedict Bridgerton also knew exactly who you were dreaming about – it was him. You had been friends for several years, and it had always been obvious to anyone with sight, that you and Ben were infatuated with each other. But Benedict was young, and impulsive, unlikely to marry at this time.

“I do not want to spend my life with that old simpleton! I want to experience life and love!” You cried out, “My elder sister divulged what it is married couples do on their wedding night – I do not want that with him! I cannot live my life without having ever experienced the touch of a man who cares for me!” Your cries turned into whispers; whimpers scattered throughout.

He held you close to him, making a caring swishing sound, it kind of sounded like the ocean. Benedict sure knew how to comfort you when you were in need.

“Y/N! Where are you?!” Your father’s voice echoed off the glass walls, sending you into a frenzy, quickly separating from Benedict, dabbing your cheeks with a handkerchief.

“Yes father?” You responded.

“Lord Howard is here with me. There is something he would like to say to you” Your father called. Benedict hid low amongst the broad-leafed plants, the darkness of the conservatory shading him. You appeared from the shadows without explanation, not that your father was seeking one. Lord Howard stood hunched next to your father, who was 20 years his junior. It appeared as though he bowed, but it was hard for you to discern.

“M…m…miss Y/n?” He stuttered, struggling to see through the spectacles at the end of his nose, “There is a question I must ask you. With the permission of your father, I am here to ask for your hand in marriage” Spittle flew from his mouth in between sharp consonants. Dread flooded your body, you felt like you were being submerged in a pool of water, the tears in your eyes, simply the only way for the water to escape.

There was animosity in your father’s gaze, warning you there was simply one answer to the question asked. Taking in a deep breath, “Yes, Lord Howard, I will accept” You murmured. Lord Howard did not look pleased, he did not appear bothered either, he simply nodded once and turned about, marching back to the main ballroom. You wondered if this was what your marriage was going to be like? Would he ignore your existence and leave you to your own life if you produced an heir? You could not ascertain whether this was a good thing or not.

Benedict hung his head, having watched this entire exchange from the shadows. There was an element of guilt on his part, he blamed himself, unable to give you what you wanted in time to save you. When your father had left you standing still, tears staining your dress, Benedict slid out from the darkness.

“I think I am going to ask the footman to take me home… I only have so much time before my time is not mine any longer” You lower lip trembled; the peaceful silence of the conservatory disturbed by the soft sounds of sobs.

“Y/n,” Benedict muttered, his hand running down your upper arm. Electricity connected your flesh in a zap, your breath caught in your chest as his skin joined with yours. His tender hands grazed yours, tickling the palm of your hand.

“Benedict” You shook your head, moving to take your hand away before he closed his around it. His tongue flicked over his lips several times as he contemplated what he had to say. Sometimes you heard the other young ladies tell stories about Benedict, you never knew if they were true. They spoke of how he was finest of the Bridgerton brothers, they also spoke of his rakish tendencies, however mostly in a jealous fashion.

The forecast in Benedict’s eyes swiftly shifted from clear blue to a stormy grey. You had not noticed how tall he was before, looming over you like a dark cloud. His face illustrated apathetic gloom, his hand boring you into him, like he was the eye of the storm.

“There is something I must speak with you about, in private” Benedict rolled his tongue aggressively on his teeth as he spoke. Everything about his demeanor was confusing, you felt strangely like prey, wondering why it felt good. Benedict snuck out the conservatory door, your hands clutched together while he led you to his carriage, asking his footmen to make way for the Bridgerton house.

“What is this about Benedict?” You asked as soon as the door was secure and the carriage moving.

“Y/n, please give me a moment and I will explain everything. I do not know if I have a solution to your problem, but I may be able to offer a compromise. Something I would only do for you, if you asked, because I care about you so deeply” Benedict paused, this intense look of thoughtful worry about him, “If you would be agreeable, I would like to suggest that I… bed you for the first time” Benedicts voice was low and resounding.

Your lips parted abashedly, your cheeks flushed pink, blinking became uncontrollable. All you could do was sit completely still, astronomically stunned by what Benedict had proposed. You understood that for whatever reason, Benedict could not give you everything you wanted, but he was offering you something. He was offering you an experience you may never have gotten to have otherwise, a chance to feel loved and wanted in intimate affection with another person.

“Say something, anything, please. I cannot stand this silence” Benedict rubbed his temples after a few minutes. His eyes were still dark with longing, he looked over with you a deviating sense of ownership.

“You would do that for me?” You entreated, hands shaking so hard you nearly sat on them to make it stop.

Benedict nodded surely across from you, the carriage pulling up at the Bridgerton house. Your eyes locked, the carriage completely still and silent, you took a moment to consider the ramifications of your choice. Ben’s posture was resolute, his gaze expansive, eagerly waiting for your reply.

“Yes” You swallowed hard, Benedict snatching your hand from your lap and dragging you from the carriage, running up the walk and into the house. You made short work of the very many stairs on the way up to his bedroom, sure that nobody could have seen you, as you ran that fast.

Blood rushing around your body, you stood just inside Benedict’s door, trying desperately to catch your breath. Benedict shuffled about the room, lighting a few candles, closing the windows for the evening. He looked back at you, having already stripped into your underclothes while his back was turned. A most shameful lust driven smile sketched lightly onto his face, he made the long voyage acrost the bedroom to stand a foot or two in front of you.

“Thank you for doing me this favor. I will owe you always” You remarked, your eyes dancing figure eights on the lush carpet squishing under your wiggling toes.

Benedict’s shoulders were more relaxed than you had ever seen them, his posture always just so. Strands of hair bled onto his sticky forehead, dark eyebrows brewing overhead transfixed eyes. That charming smile, filled with foolishness, had not been seen since leaving the ball – this was something so chronically serious to him. He effortlessly tugged at his maroon cravat, casting it to the floor, his proud neck craning to get another glimpse of you from another angle. His throat bobbed when he stepped closer again, just one more step. Fiddling with his waistcoat buttons ardently, watching the frustration set into your eyes, Benedict finally shed his coat and pitched it across the room, knocking over something unbreakable in the corner. It did not steal his gaze; his eyes were set on you. Benedict lifted his suspenders off his shoulders, allowing them to dangle by his hips, the chest of his white, silk undershirt gaping open. Your teeth instinctually bit into your lower lip at the slightest sight of skin you had not ever seen before. The corner of Benedicts mouth upturned smugly, his lips rolling together as his breath became audible. Standing just one foot apart, the tension between you was palpable. You wondered if someone had struck a match, might the room simply explode, there seemed to be so much chemistry between the two of you.

“Please, continue” Your hands pressed to your stomach, you watched as Benedict unlaced his boots, one foot at a time on the stool at the end of his bed. His blistering eye bore into you even still. Making his way back to you, still at hardly an arm’s length, his brawny arms crossed his body to pull his undershirt off over his head.

You swooned audibly, almost gasping seeing the entirety of his torso bare for the first time. Your lips wet, your eyes unblinking, Benedict smiled cheekily, knowing the effect he had on you. His hands moved past his navel, your eyes following, to the button atop his breeches. Benedict made quick work of his trousers, having teased you plenty. Your back straightened, your gob smacked jaw snapped shut at the sight of his naked body.

Benedicts tongue flicked over his teeth, “Would you like me to redress, y/n?” He badgered, pretending to reach for his shirt on the floor. You careened forward, lessening the space between you to essentially nothing.

“I do not know what to do, not truly” You admitted, feeling yourself choking on nothing. Benedict reached out to your hands, taking them in his, placing them on his chest. Your eyes nearly rolled back in your head at the feeling of his light chest hair beneath your fingers. His sculpted pectoral muscles and taut stomach, a trail of dark hair leading you downwards made you feel ravenous for him. He looked at you as you looked at him, eyes filled with desire, faces pink in the candlelight. Benedict leaned in to kiss you, pulling away left at the last second to place a single kiss on your neck.

“You. Are. Wicked” Your face flitted over his, grazing your noses and lips together in potential kisses. Benedict leaned into you, his kiss soft, warm, and breathless. You gasped at the first separation, taking in hasty breaths before crashing back into each other. Everything you were doing felt completely wrong, reprehensible – but with a kiss as intoxicating as Benedict Bridgerton’s, you were afraid not even heaven could help you.

Your hands slipped into his thick, dark hair, pulling him down and into you, wrapping your arms around his neck and climbing up onto him. His hands rested under your thighs, carrying you toward his bed, you could feel his hardness pressing against you. 

This was not what you had been expecting, this was no impish boy. Everything about his movements was intentional, well-practiced. His hot, amorous kiss; the way his tongue slipped thankfully over yours, how his teeth greedily nipped at your auspicious bottom lip. His hands moved passionately across your back, his long kisses surprisingly hard on your neck, laying you down on the pile of bedding. He frantically shoved it off the bed, throwing pillows, knocking himself in the face once or twice. You laughed together, slow sizzling tongues dancing as one as Benedict removed your floor length under gown.

Benedict knelt above you on the bed, gently stroking himself, looking down on you. There was that dark cloud you had noticed earlier.

“I want you to enjoy me” Benedict rumbled, making you a promise. You did not yet understand, but you would. Taking his finger, Benedict dipped it into your mouth, bringing it to your nipple, rolling it between his finger and thumb at a glacial pace. His touch was peculiarly possessive, his lips rested around your other nipple now, sloppily dragging his tongue around in spontaneous circles. Big open-mouthed kisses surrounded your breasts, your shock and surprise manifesting in noiseless writhing.

Benedict positioned himself between your legs, lying down forcing your legs apart. Wanting to snap your legs shut, you refrained, trusting Benedict with your life. His breath was agonizingly warm on your inner thigh, his lips parted and gliding up from your knee. Benedict dotted small, chaste kisses along your hips – you deduced he was headed for the pinnacle of your thighs, a place you had never felt burn and ache quite like this.

His tongue slid gently up the slit of your pussy, you breath shuddered, his harmless laps amazed you with every movement. Eye lids fluttering, breathy moans filling the room, Benedict’s graceful tongue swirling your clitoris in curious patterns, drinking in your wetness as though you were a drug to him. Your fingers crawled down into his hair, your hips bucking toward his retreating tongue, you squealed lowly for more.

“Are you quite alright?” Benedict groaned into you, the vibrations of his voice set you on edge, your toes clenching in different ways.

“I do not know what you are doing, but I would like for you to keep doing it” You moaned intermittently, between gasps as his tongue flicked roguishly at your clitoris.

Benedict spread your legs wide and high, taking his finger and resting it at your entrance. He tediously sunk his finger inside you, curling up, making you yelp out in astonishment. Finding a steady pace, his finger already snug inside you, Benedict began at you again, never failing to find exactly the spot he was looking for. His alteration of speed and pressure backed you onto a cliff face, body incandescent and damned to revelry. Pressing his fingers into you rhythmically, Benedict pushed you over the edge, the sensation of falling and flying all erupting at once as you moaned and yelped uncontrollably. In the aftermath of your pleasure, you watched Benedicts eyes, his head still clutched between your legs gently sliding his tongue over you, his charming, sexy smile reflected in his eyes.

Slowing rising to his knees, Ben positioned your legs higher, resting your calves on his shoulders. Taking his cock in his hand, his pressed his tip against your wet skin. Your skin erupted in a tingling sensation, unbridled attraction and hunger liquefying your brain.

You looked up at Benedict in clear understanding, nodding gently, your eyes focusing on the powerful look of restrained urgency on Benedict’s face. He pushed forward smoothly, eliciting a groan from each of you, not even pressed to the hilt yet.

When Benedict filled your pussy fully, it felt like being winded. Panting like a dog under him, Benedict stilled himself, noticing how full and tight you felt, his cock twitching with pleasure. Benedict moved slowly at first, long unbroken strides forward, thrusting into you. Every drive forward, simultaneously blissful, and hot, curving to pound into that sensitive spot just inside you. While every drawback, was likened to slow-motion, devastating deprivation. Ceaseless, savage moans made Benedict grin above you, thrusting harder, wholly triumphant in setting you alight. You knew you would burn for him for the rest of your life.

“Make that sound for me again” Benedict grunted sinisterly, thrusting back into you brutally, forcing that loud intonation from you again.

Your fingers clawed at his back, your hips moving with his in most divine unison. Benedicts teeth grazed your ear, your breathing syncing in ceremonious adoration; his momentum increased, driving into you with new eagerness. Your nails buried in his plump behind, pulling Benedict tighter into you. With propulsive sureness Benedict plunged into you one last time, his cock twitching inside you to his irrevocable release. Never had you felt so full before, his face exquisite above you, leaning down to a soulful kiss.

“I’m proud of you, taking me like that” Benedict panted, taking a second before withdrawing and rolling next to you. He lay on the flat of his back, chasing his breath, his heart thumping through his chest, beating so hard you could almost hear it. His words made you blush, hiding your face in your hands, his seed leaking out of you onto the linen.

“It is not always going to be the same, is it?” You pondered aloud, staring at the detailing on the ceiling above you.

“I will not lie, y/n darling, I do not think every single instance will be the same” Benedict reached over, gently slapping your thigh in solidarity.

“That is disappointing to hear” You sighed dramatically.

Benedict chuckled sweetly, “Perhaps at his age, he will not have the capacity to complete more than the marital act”. You knew he was joking, trying to lift your spirits, but you genuinely hoped that might be true. Other worries began to plague your mind, worries of potential children. What if you were unable to conceive his heir due to his age?

You rolled onto your side, looking into Benedict’s clear, sky-blue eyes, “There may be another favour I ask of you, dear friend”. Benedict's eyes widened curiously, prepared to do most anything for you.

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

Tag list: @cringycat24 // @blckbarbiedoll // @freyagallileaevans // @junkie05 // @rosabeetroot // @flamewriterr // @marvelouslyme96 // @moreover-clover // @saintmagx //

If you would like to be tagged in Bridgerton fanfiction written by me, please let me know!

[zapreportsblog]

hi!! can you do volturi x secretary!reader (platonic) who's just TOO GOOD AT HER JOB. she spells carlisle correctly, she doesn't interrupt, and she's like really professional. ALSO YOU FOLLOWED ME BACK LIKE I WAS SO SURRPISRD THANK YOU HAVE A GOOD DAYYAYAYYA

❝she’s just too damn good❞

✭ pairing : volturi x reader

✭ fandom : twilight

✭ summary : (Y/n) is the best damn secretary the volturi could ask for

✭ authors note : aww of course I’d follow you back :)

✭ twilight masterlist

The grand entrance hall of Volterra, Italy, echoed with the weight of centuries-old secrets and power. It was within these ancient stone walls that the Volturi, the ruling vampire coven, held their dominion. Aro, Caius, and Marcus, the three elder vampires who led the coven, sat upon their thrones, their crimson eyes filled with an ageless wisdom.

Their previous secretary had met an unfortunate end, her fate sealed by a single, costly mistake. Now, it was time to find a new secretary, one who could handle the delicate matters that crossed the Volturi's path.

(Y/n), a human with a reputation for competence and diligence, stood before the Volturi leaders. She pushed her glasses up on her face, the light catching the lenses and reflecting an intense determination in her gaze. She had no intention of failing in this prestigious role.

Aro, the most talkative of the trio, addressed her with a smile that didn't reach his eyes. "I trust you won't follow in our previous secretary's footsteps. Her errors cost her dearly."

(Y/n) met Aro's gaze with unwavering confidence. "No need for the warning, sir. I take my work very seriously. I'm here to ensure that every detail is meticulously attended to."

Caius observed her with a critical eye, his expression stern. "You are aware that our affairs are highly confidential, and discretion is of the utmost importance?"

(Y/n) nodded, her resolve unshaken. "Absolutely, sir. My lips are sealed, and I understand the consequences of breaching that trust."

Marcus, the most reserved of the three, merely regarded her with a measured gaze. "We shall see if your actions align with your words."

(Y/n) straightened her posture, ready to take on her new responsibilities. "You won't be disappointed, gentlemen."

With that, she accepted the role of secretary for the Volturi, stepping into a world of secrecy, power, and ancient vampires. As she walked away, she knew that she had taken on a role unlike any other, one that demanded her utmost dedication and discretion. The reflection of her determination in those glasses was a symbol of the resolve she brought to her new position, one that she intended to uphold at all costs.

(Y/n) settled into her new role as the secretary for the Volturi with a fierce dedication. Her efficiency and attention to detail quickly became apparent to the coven's leaders. Aro, always one to appreciate those who could fulfill his demands promptly, decided to put her to the test.

One afternoon, he strolled into her office, his graceful presence demanding attention. (Y/n) looked up from her desk, her fingers flying across the keyboard of her computer as she organized files and scheduled appointments.

"Ah, (Y/n)," Aro greeted her with his customary smile. "I have a task for you."

(Y/n) nodded, ready to take on any request from her employer. "Of course, master Aro. What do you need?"

Aro explained, "I need you to post an aid about a tour for fifty people for tomorrows feeding, a rather impromptu event. I would like you to schedule it for me.”

(Y/n) didn't miss a beat. She continued typing on her computer, her eyes darting across the screen as she worked her magic with scheduling software. "Consider it done, master Aro."

Aro was taken aback by her speed and efficiency. He had expected this task to take some time, but within mere minutes, (Y/n) turned her screen toward him, displaying a perfectly organized tour for fifty attendees, complete with dates, times, and an itinerary.

His crimson eyes widened with a mixture of surprise and admiration. "You work remarkably fast, (Y/n)."

(Y/n) looked up with a confident smile. "I pride myself on being efficient, master aro. Is there anything else you need?"

Aro chuckled, clearly impressed. "Not at the moment, my dear. Carry on with your excellent work."

As he left her office, (Y/n) couldn't help but feel a sense of satisfaction. She had proven her worth to the Volturi leader, and her efficiency would undoubtedly serve her well in this world of secrecy and power.

In the serene garden of the Volturi castle, Marcus often found solace among the flowers that his late mate had once lovingly tended to. He wandered the garden, lost in his own thoughts, the weight of his immortal life bearing down on him.

One day, as he strolled along the carefully manicured paths, Marcus noticed something extraordinary. The flowers that had once withered away had begun to regrow, vibrant and beautiful as if brought back to life by some unseen force. He couldn't help but be struck by the sight, the memories of his mate's love for these flowers flooding his mind.

Marcus approached a lower guard who was on duty nearby, his curiosity piqued. "Who has been taking care of the garden? These flowers, they are flourishing once more."

The lower guard, a vampire who had served the Volturi for centuries, nodded respectfully to Marcus. "It is the human, my lord."

"The human?" Marcus asked, intrigued. "What is their name?"

The guard, who knew the human by the name the Volturi called her, replied, "The secretary (Y/n), my lord."

Marcus considered this revelation, the name sparking a distant memory. He had heard the name (Y/n) mentioned in passing, but he had paid little attention. Now, it seemed this human was not only tending to the garden but also reviving the memories of his lost mate.

With a nod of appreciation, Marcus continued to admire the blooming flowers, a silent acknowledgment of the human named (Y/n) for her care and dedication. In the garden, among the resurrected blooms, he felt a connection to his past and a glimmer of hope for the future, all thanks to the efforts of this mysterious human.

In the dimly lit halls of the Volturi castle, Caius, one of the coven's leaders, was growing increasingly frustrated. He had been searching for his favorite cloak, a luxurious garment of deep crimson, for what felt like an eternity. His irritation had escalated to the point where his voice echoed through the corridors as he yelled at everyone in his path.

"Where is it? Who has taken my cloak?" he bellowed, his tone venomous.

Vampires scurried to avoid his wrath, their wide-eyed expressions betraying their fear of their temperamental leader.

In the midst of the chaos, a soft and calm voice cut through the tension. "(Y/n)," Caius snapped, his crimson eyes narrowing as he turned to face the human secretary, "(Y/n), have you seen my cloak? I cannot find it anywhere."

(Y/n) stepped forward, holding Caius's missing cloak draped carefully over her arm. Her voice was composed, unruffled by his outburst. "Master Caius, you left this in your office. I've noticed it had specks of dried blood on it, so I've had it dried clean."

Caius was momentarily taken aback, his anger dissipating as he processed her words. He couldn't believe it. The usually distant and indifferent human secretary had not only found his cloak but had taken it upon herself to ensure it was cleaned.

"(Y/n)," Caius said, his voice softer now, "you did this for me?"

(Y/n) nodded, her gaze steady as she met his crimson eyes. "Of course, Master Caius. It's my duty to assist in any way I can."

Caius, still in disbelief, reached out to take the cloak from her arm. His fingers brushed against hers, and he felt a strange, unfamiliar sensation stir within him. He couldn't deny that her thoughtfulness had left a mark on him, one that he couldn't easily dismiss.

As (Y/n) excused herself and left the hallway, Caius watched her retreating figure with a newfound appreciation. It was a small gesture, but one that had touched him deeply, and he couldn't help but wonder if there was more to this human secretary than met the eye.

The grand trial room within the Volturi castle was filled with a weighty silence as the three kings, Aro, Caius, and Marcus, gathered for a discussion. The subject of their conversation was none other than their human secretary, (Y/n).

"She's good at her job, almost too damn good," Aro commented, his eyes gleaming with intrigue. "I can't seem to find a simple mistake in her work."

Caius nodded in agreement. "She's quick, and her work is effective. It seems we'll be keeping her around long-term."

Marcus, who often remained silent, offered his approval with a subtle nod.

The kings reached a unanimous decision. They would offer (Y/n) a gift, one that would bind her to the Volturi for eternity. They sent their most trusted enforcers, the twins Alec and Jane, to fetch her.

Alec and Jane, swift and efficient as always, found (Y/n) in her office. They approached her with the precision of a well-practiced routine.

"(Y/n)," Alec began, his tone even, "the masters request your presence in the trial room."

(Y/n) blinked in surprise but complied, following the twins to the room where the three kings awaited.

Once inside, (Y/n) stood before the Volturi leaders, her heart pounding with anticipation. Aro spoke first, his voice dripping with charm.

"(Y/n), in the short months you have been with us, your dedication and efficiency have impressed us greatly," Aro said, his crimson eyes locked onto hers. "We value your contributions, and we would like to offer you a gift."

(Y/n) couldn't hide her surprise. "A gift, masters?"

Caius stepped forward, his gaze unwavering. "We offer you immortality, (Y/n). A chance to join our coven as one of us."

The offer hung in the air, a life-altering decision that (Y/n) had never expected. She considered her options carefully, her thoughts racing. The weight of eternity was a heavy burden to bear, but the allure of becoming part of the Volturi coven was undeniable.

After a moment of reflection, (Y/n) finally spoke. "I'm not sure what to say, masters, but thank you for the offer."

With her acceptance, the kings nodded in approval. The twins, Alec and Jane, moved closer, their hands lightly touching her body. “Alec -“ aro calls out and in second Alec has (y/n) wrapped in his dark smoke, her senses numbing within seconds. “Don’t worry dear, it’ll be over in no time.”

Over the course of three days, (Y/n) underwent the agonizing process of the vampire transformation. She endured the fire of change, sometimes which were numbed by Alec per the kings request and now she was emerging from the ordeal as a newborn vampire, her senses heightened and her existence forever entwined with the Volturi.

As her eyes fluttered open in her new immortal life, (Y/n) realized that she had become a permanent part of the Volturi coven, her loyalty and dedication recognized in the most profound way possible.

[annerbhp]

If you would but indulge this fandom elder for a few moments, I'd like to point out a few things that I think can make all of our fannish experiences on this hellsite (affectionate) so much more joyful.

Try not to treat yourself or others as "content-providers."

This happens when you allow yourself to be influenced by real or imagined expectations and demands of others. "But I know people want..." "But people would expect me to..." "But they might not like it if I..." "It's been too long since I've written/posted anything..." "What if people get upset if I..." These are the joy killers. The only questions you should ask yourself when posting stuff to tumblr (or not) is "does this bring me joy right now?" and "would this cause harm?" That's it. You can also tag liberally so people can block stuff if they want. That's also a nice thoughtful thing to do. But try not to let the nebulous concept of "people"--your followers, your readers, the internet at large, or whatever--become a bogeyman in your own head. Most of us already have enough internal critics trying to trip us up at any given moment. Try not to invent more.

Treating others as "content-providers" happens if you send asks or comments to someone on this site demanding more content of a specific type, or insinuating that you are entitled to something from that person. You are communicating to that person that they only have value as a content-provider, and only when providing whatever it is you want. This is dehumanizing and ignores the thousands of reasons that person might choose to be here. Tumblr is not a subscription service. No one is paying for anything here. Most people here are just doing stuff that makes them joyful and we are lucky enough that sometimes they share it with us too!

2. Fandom is not a marriage.

The concept of "being in a fandom" is actually incredibly nebulous, as it should be! There is nothing you need to do or declare to be "in a fandom." There is no minimum threshold of love, or time, or interaction, or "production." It's just a feeling. A place. A space that brings joy. (And sometimes, heartbreak, but that's another topic all together.)

Fandom is also not a marriage. You can't cheat on a fandom. You do not have to have formal divorce proceedings and let go of one fandom before messing around with another one. There's no such thing as fandom infidelity. Neither is fandom a job. You don't have to give two weeks' notice. You don't have to post public intent on the town hall. You're not banned once you step out, never to return. You can "take a break" without any moral implications or risk of becoming the focus of a pop culture debate about whether or not you were justified to mess around with another fandom during that time. You can leave a fandom and never go back, all without having to consciously decide to do so. You can fall out of love with a fandom and then fall back in love with it later. It's not a marriage/job! There are no rules!

3. Take ownership and curate your own experience.

If there is a thing, or a blog, or a person who once brought you joy, but on balance no longer does, or makes you more disappointed or annoyed or upset than not, you do not have to keep interacting with them/it. Following someone on tumblr is also not a marriage. You can follow/unfollow as you like, no harm, no foul. It's just curating your personal joy, and I hope we will always wish each other the best with that. If you are scared of "missing out on something," then you will either need to block tags enough to make it enjoyable, or decide unfollowing is worth the risk if it makes you too unhappy to keep following!

The ultimate thing is, it's up to you to curate your fannish experience. It is not up to the person you are following to change to fit your expectations or hopes. (See point #1.) You can feel ways about this, of course! But those are your feelings, which are yours to handle. Do not put them on the other person. Do not send them asks demanding things or lashing out. It won't make you feel better and it definitely won't get you what you are looking for, unless your actual aim is to kill the joy of another person so you are not upset alone. In that case I'm not sure what to tell you other than you might want to spend some time meditating on that one and think about if that's really the kind of person you want to be. Or if this kind of space is actually good for you.

That's it for now. Thank you for indulging me. Don't be a dick on the internet, friends. Take no shit and do no harm. Take care of yourselves! 💕

[livmightlive]

Dawn Headcanon

Probably my biggest headcanon for LU, and honestly the Zelda games in general, is that Dawn was quite a bit older than Hyrule when he rescued her in Zelda 1.

I think while he was, I’m pretty sure canonically(?), around 10 or 11 she was more so like 17 or 18. I have no canon backing for this or any context at all besides that fact I like it for the following:

It’s no secret that fans of Hyrule and the first two Zelda games in the series have to do a lot of their own world building based off the lack of actual details the games give us. This paints a very lonely picture of Hyrule (in my modest opinion). He has no family members and not really any established friends in the series. Of course it’s implied that the Zelda’s probably think highly of him and he does have a few character interactions but the rest is purely left the speculation.

I like the idea of Dawn being quite a bit older than Hyrule because I like thinking that she brought him up as an elder sister to him, leaving him with a family member to return to. I also like the drama that would occur from her being older.

imagine: You are 18 and have been kidnapped by an ancient evil that not even you, the princess bestowed with power from the goddess herself can defeat. (I like to think that Dawn is brawny and tough. She is a princess yes, but she is the princess of a wasteland. She is a survivor with the rest of them.) You’re furious that this creature is razing your land to even more pieces and you are also disappointed in yourself. You have high expectations for yourself being one of the only figures of authority left in this place. You don’t expect to be rescued, it’s a dog eat dog world out here, but you are. And your brave rescuer is 10 years old 😭

I like to think that she’d be horrified that the only person in this world to try and save their princess is a literal child. So she takes him under her wing and finds that he is quite literally half feral. Like he growls at strangers and doesn’t know basic hygiene. So she takes it upon herself to teach this kid how to live as a proper person 😭

she feels kind of awful, like she’s stripping away his core as she civilizes this child, but she firmly believes it’s for his own good. If he doesn’t know how to clean himself he will fall to infection, even as he bites and screeches as Dawn painstakingly brushes and cuts the mats out of his hair. He hates learning math and reading, it caused him a frustration that not even fighting darknuts had caused him, but without it he can’t read road signs or spell books. Through blood, sweat, and tears Dawn manages to mold Hyrule into a person.

it’s not all bad though, she teaches him to forage for medicinal herbs and he takes to it like breathing. He starts smiling at her and rarely, in a hushed croaky voice, he shares conversations with her.

Dawn is the first to fight her own council when they want to cast out her little hero as his blood begins to drawn in beasts. She’s the first to cry when they don’t give her a choice and her little brother is cast from underneath her arms back into the wastes. he visits occasionally and sometimes she receives a letter, but there isn’t a day that passes that Dawn doesn’t miss those days he spent under her care.

I just really see Hyrule as the type of boy to have a big sister. She forcefully loved him and he learned to be loved.

(I think later on Aurora would be like a little sister to Hyrule giving him a little taste of what Dawn had to put up with him but that’s a different conversation)

I find Dawn really interesting and I feel like I don’t see much of her at all in the fandom. I think there’s a lot of potential in the princess of a wasteland kingdom (as so many people chose to see Rulie’s era). In general, I wish I could see more of the Zeldas.

if you have thoughts on any of the Zeldas pls lmk!! I love nothing more than hashing out different thoughts and headcanons

[rebelliousstories]

I Know Now

Relationship: Spencer Reid x Reader

Fandom: Criminal Minds

Request: No

Warnings: Angst, Light Fluff

Word Count: 1,032

Main Masterlist: Here

Criminal Minds Masterlist: Here

Part One: Did You Know?// Part Three: Somebody Knows// Part Four: What We Know

Summary: When it comes time for Reid to come home, everyone is happy. Everyone except the one person he wants to see more than anyone else.

“Cherish every moment with those you love, because tomorrow is never promised.” - Unknown

Spencer had no idea what was going on as he was brought into the visitors room. He was not sure what was going on, but within a few minutes, he got his answer. Jennifer walked into the room with a teary smile on her face as she looked at her best friend.

“We’re taking you home.” For the first time in three months, Spencer voluntarily touched another human being. Weight was taken off of him as he hugged her close, but he was waiting to see one specific person.

Checking out of the prison felt amazing. He was never going to go back to those walls again if he could help it. Reid dressed in the suit he wore in again, and waited for the gate to be opened. On the other side, he was delighted to see his friends and coworkers. Garcia came up and wrapped him up tightly, to which he smiled at, but as he looked around, he could not help but be disappointed. His wife was nowhere to be seen. Pulling away, Spencer realized that he must have had a confused look on his face because Penelope spoke up.

“We tried to get into contact with her, but she wasn’t answering her phone.” She whispered, ushering the man into the SUV that was awaiting them. With everything happening with his mom, Lindsey, Scratch; the one thing he needed was her to keep him sane.

Penelope gave him a portable battery charger for the drive, because after three months, his phone was definitely not charged enough for a call. Spencer sat impatiently as he waited for the phone to power up. They turned the corner to go into headquarters and he felt relief at seeing the beautiful building again. He thought he would never see it again. Once his phone was online, he immediately began to try and call his wife, only to be met with her voicemail every time.

Jennifer offered to take Spencer by their apartment to check, as Cassie’s phone was also going to voicemail. It was starting to become weird for the team as they tried to piece together the pieces of this puzzle. Spencer stepped inside of his apartment and immediately spotted the scrapbook that was left out in the open. Two pieces from the book were not where they were supposed to be. A picture that he had made of himself and a tightrope walker, and a picture from the very first time that his mom had met his future wife. Spencer remembered that day so clearly after all these years.

“Mom, hey. How are you feeling today?” Spencer spoke softly through the room as he walked inside. Sitting in a chair, facing the window, was his mother. She turned her head at the sound of his voice and was shocked to see her son, and someone behind him.

“Spencer, what a pleasant surprise. I’m feeling okay today. They had pancakes for breakfast so it was a good start. Who’s this?” Diana jumped straight to the point. Stepping to the side, Spencer presented the young lady that was behind him. She gave her full name as she made her way to the elder Reid.

“It’s very nice to meet you, Mrs. Reid. Spencer couldn’t stop talking about you the entire time here.” She held out her hand, and waited, but the older woman only looked at it. Sensing the awkward tension beginning to arise, the younger woman held out the present in her hands towards her boyfriend’s mother.

“Spence told me you weren’t a fan of flowers, or chocolates, or anything of the sort so I thought this would be a good thing to bring.” Diana took the object, and look down inquisitively. In her hands, rested a book. Not just any book, no; this was a gorgeous ornate version of Parliament of Fowls. The same stories she used to read to Spencer as a young boy. Trailing her hands over the cover, she felt the embossing and looked up at the stranger with her son.

“Are you two going to stand forever, or come sit down and join me?” Turning to her boyfriend, she smiled as he walked her over to where two chairs sat side by side.

“Spence, are you okay?” JJ asked, resting a hand on his shoulder. He jolted out of his seat at the touch, causing the woman to step back with her hands up in defense.

“Sorry, sorry,” came his panted breaths, “just realized that these two pictures aren’t where they’re suppose to be.”

“Is there anything significant about them?” She inquired, looking over his shoulder.

The one of him as a child looked unmarked, but turning it around showed him the note in lipstick. XX-XY. However, the other picture was very clearly marked. The same red lipstick was scribbled over his wife’s face and stomach. He knew what the first clue meant, but what on earth did this mean? Spencer stood up abruptly, and went to look around his apartment. There was no sign of his mother or wife all through the humble abode, sending him further and further to the edge. Cassie was not there either, which added another layer to his frayed state already.

It should have been more of a shock to find Cassie dead, and Lindsey on the run, but it was not. At least not to Spencer. This was the natural escalation of things, he supposed. He felt relief when he heard that the victim at the gas station was male; his mother and wife were still alive. But as he sat in the BAU again, trying to crack this case, he kept getting tunnel vision. What was he not seeing? What was alluding him?

When they finally got a break in the case, he was not sure whether or not he was thankful. Because the second that face popped up on the big screen, he felt like he could break it. The screen and the person on it.

“It’s me.”

George Eliot wrote, “Only in the agony of parting do we look into the depths of love.”

Tag:

@bringitonhomejohnb

[mercars-musings]

Market Memories

Fandom: Dragon Age - The Veilguard

Pairing- Emmrich Volkarin x TransMan!Rook {OC in particular}

TW- depicted: anxiety, anxiety attack, arguement with manipulative ex, self doubt; referenced: to childhood trauma, childhood abuse, shitty ex, manipulative ex; genre: hurt/comfort, angst, angst with happy ending, fluff.

Description- Emmrich convinces Az {OC Rook} to show him around Minrathous a little more, so he decides to take Emmrich to a small market not too far from where he grew up.

Rook's revisited these markets a few times since he moved to Dock Town and he hadn't ran into... nothing bad had happened.

So, by all means, it should have been a fun little trip! Emmrich gets to learn a little more about Rook, Rook gets to spend some quality time alone with his adoring paramour and maybe even impress him with an adorable piece of jewellery he found while he's at it!

Unfortunately, during their excursion Rook's reminded that every visit home is another visit tempting fate.

Word count- 5.4k

Read on AO3: Here!

~ ♡ ~

“I still don’t really get why you want another tour,” Rook laughs, as he guides the elder man through yet another winding back alley of Dock Town. “Neve’s already dragged us all over this place thousands of times-” Before he can continue, Rook is cut off by the feeling of a gloved hand gently being placed on his arm.

“As I’ve said before Dearest,” Emmrich starts, smiling earnestly at the Shadow Dragon. “Neve may have already shown us all there is to see of Dock Town but, I want to see what you love about this place.”

Still getting used to being the clear subject of someone’s affections, Az begins to feel a warm glow forming on his cheeks. Clearing his throat, he glances away momentarily as he tries to not feel too embarrassed.

“I… really appreciate that Em. I really do, but… well apart from missions I don’t really go out much.” The Qunari waves vaguely towards himself, particularly his horns as he lets out an awkward laugh. “I wasn’t exactly raised to be much of an outside person.”

Emmrich nods solemnly.

“My apologies, Rook.” Emmrich began, shifting his attention down to his hands in an almost embarrassed fashion. “I was hoping to learn more about you during this rare lull in our escapades, though… I’m beginning to suspect that I didn’t quite think it all the way through.” 

Rook lets out a slight, awkward laugh in response though, this is quickly replaced by a frown once he notices the genuine disappointment & guilt starting to creep their way onto the necromancer’s features.

“Well…” He pauses to think for a moment, trying to figure out the best course of action to remedy the awkward turn their conversation seemed to be taking. “I suppose there may be one place that may have fallen off of Neve’s radar.”

At this, Emmrich raises his gaze and meets Az’s eyes once again, quirking an eyebrow suspiciously.

~ ♡ ~

The pair made their way into a part of Minrathous that Emmrich indeed hadn’t seen before. It was just a little outside of their usual stomping grounds, perhaps a 10-20 minute walk if Emmrich had to estimate.

As the small distance between the two towns would suggest, there was almost no observably clear difference apart from different stalls and establishments lining the streets. Though, something about it does seem to make Rook perk up a little, he seems a little more in his element here. Albeit a bit more reserved than he is in Dock Town.

“Okay so… I know it doesn’t exactly look like much…” Rook says, turning to the professor. “But… well…” pausing, he glances down briefly as he pats an imaginary crease out of his shirt trying to plan his next words carefully. “Did I ever tell you why Neve and I hadn’t met before Varric?”

Emmrich tilts his head very slightly, trying to puzzle out where this conversation was going, but instead of saying anything he simply opts to shake his head.

“I only moved to Dock Town recently,” turning slowly Rook begins to walk towards a stall that seems to be selling some assortment of baked goods. “About… oh Gods, at this point I guess it would be about… five-ish years ago?”

Stopping at the stall Rook looks over at Emmrich. Noticing that he seems to have the man's undivided attention, he smiles & continues, “I was actually raised in a nearby town not far from it… not far from here actually.” 

“Oh?” 

“Yeah, my dad…” Rook pauses momentarily, as if thinking something to himself before seemingly shaking it out of his head. “My dad commanded legions in Ventus, and uh, found me on one of his jobs.”

“He… found you?” Emmrich asks, the surprise of the statement helping to drag his gaze away from a very delicious looking Nevarran Torte and back to Az. 

Rook lets out a chuckle as he nods, “I know, it sounds weird. I still have no idea what a little Qunari runt was doing in the middle of a battlefield! I always asked but he never…" The sentence wanders off unexpectedly, replaced with a heavy silence that fills the space between the two men. 

It was happening again, Emmrich realized: one of Rook’s quiet spells. 

Most days Rook was so cheery, always putting on a happy face for the crew & cracking jokes faster than Emmrich could even register the lull in a conversation. Though, at what seemed to be utterly random moments, Rook would suddenly become lost in thought. He’d stop himself before he finished sentences as if he were trying to stop himself from saying the wrong things or saying too much perhaps. Emmrich always wondered what quiet disagreement was taking place in his lover’s mind to leave him looking so conflicted… so forlorn. 

Alas, there would be time for that, once their fight against the Gods was over & they could both retire from the daily life or death scenarios. 

Eventually, Rook seems to shake himself out of the thought and looks back up at Emmrich sheepishly. “I… never did quite get that story out of my parents.”

“If you don’t mind me asking my Dear,” Emmrich starts, gently taking one of Rook's hands into his own, rubbing circles into the back of it. “What were your parents like?”

Rook snorts, “Stubborn, overbearing, controlling…” the young Qunari pauses briefly, as if reassessing something. “But… I suppose they were all I had really. The only ones who truly cared. Even if they showed it in one of the worst ways possible… even if it made me hate them.”

Emmrich nods somberly, taking Rook’s other hand in his as they stay standing at the dessert stall together. Instead of pushing further, Emmrich decides to leave space for Rook to think, and to potentially lead the conversation into whichever route feels most comfortable. So, for a while, neither man says anything & simply stand in a comfortable silence together. 

Rook, as usual, is the first to break the silence between the two men.

“Anyway, I didn’t bring you here to listen to my sad shit,” Looking up at Emmrich with a large {albeit half fake} grin, Az turns around to continue guiding his paramour into the rest of the market. “There’s this stall I think you’ll really like! Y’know, if it’s still here…”

“Oh?” Emmich asks, curious as to what the man could have planned to show him. It’s not as if they hadn’t already perused many Tevene establishments for magical tomes & items dozens of times prior.

Rook doesn’t answer, instead he continues to scan the stalls that surround them both with such dedication you’d think he was hunting an enemy in the middle of battle. 

“Aha!” Rook exclaims abruptly, rushing over to what seemed to be a small jewellery stall towards the back of the row. Hanging from the top of the stall are long rows of necklaces, all adorned with various jewels that were no doubt enchanted with some form of warding magic or glamour spell. Though, instead of setting his sights on those, Rook’s eyes instead scan through the display cases of rings and brooches on the table below.

After a few more seconds, Az picks up something small and presents it to Emmrich excitedly. Attracting the attention of the stall owner as he does, suspicion clear in her gaze as she watches the exchange cautiously. Probably to make sure the pair don’t run off with the item.

“I… I know it's not as fancy as your Nevarran stuff,” Rook mumbles, “but during our dinner the other night, something you said reminded me of this.”

Presenting the piece to Emmrich, Rook's hands seemed to shake lightly. It wasn’t so bad that it obstructed the item but  it was enough for Emmrich to notice. The sight of Rook’s nerves simultaneously warmed & pierced Emmrich’s heart. It was endearing to see that his Dearest cared so much about Emmrich’s opinion of him. Though, the frequency of the nerves did always leave him wondering: What in Thedas had this poor boy been subjected to previously? For him to be so nervous at any attempt at a genuine display of true affection?

The questions stung Emmrich every time they surfaced in his mind, so as usual he pushed them away for now. Instead of ruining the current moment, they would be something else that would keep him awake on particularly reflective nights. Until he could coax the answer from Az once their relationship wasn’t so… new and nerve wracking that is.

Once the thoughts subsided, Emmrich took a closer look at the piece of jewellery. It seemed to be a small collar pin, not so dissimilar to the skull one that Emmrich already frequently wore but there was something different about it.

Upon realization, Emmrich could have sworn that his heart skipped a beat: the collar pin was a tiny metallic lilac.

“Now - I know favourite colour isn’t exactly the same thing as favourite flower, but Lilac still is a type of flower! And to be fair to me - you still haven’t exactly told me what your favourite flower is! So I tried for the next best thing - Of course, If you don’t like it then that's fine! I can just find something in the style of your favourite flower instead! If you tell me what that is, I mean! - l um…” Rook pauses for a second, realising he’s starting to ramble. He takes a moment to take a deep breath & tries to refocus the conversation. “Anyway, sorry this is probably pretty silly isn’t it?” 

Rook lets out a small, nervous laugh as he glances away, embarrassed. Though this is abruptly stopped by Emmrich’s free hand which has seemingly made its way to his chin at lightning speed. 

“My Darling Boy…” the necromancer begins, guiding Rook’s eyeline back to his, a large & genuine smile on his face. “This is absolutely wonderful, and it truly warms me to know you brought me all this way to see it.”

With that smile, Rook feels the warm fuzzy feeling that always seems to sneak up on him whenever Emmrich’s around. His shoulders relax, his head begins to feel oh so free of the ever crushing stress, his eyes soften and he feels his body begin to feel lighter. Every time this happened, Az felt like he could lose himself in his beloved’s eyes for centuries. Seeing the warm, genuine care and affection within them could, for just a second, make him forget who he was, where they were… the fact that he was always one misstep away from utter heartbreak. 

He felt this way during every conversation, every flirtation, every amazing night they spent together. He adored it, he reveled in the way it made him feel like maybe, just this once things could finally be different, be lasting. 

Though, the joy always swiftly dispersed once he walked away from these encounters. Without Emmrich in view, he couldn’t stave off the doubts any longer… nor the memories. These moments were when the truth of the world came flooding back & he was reminded of the inevitability of betrayal which always plummeted him back down to earth harder each & every time.

So naturally, to avoid this inevitability, there’s lines, limits that Az wouldn’t… couldn’t ever cross. There always had been and there always would have to be. For if he strayed away from the usual dance, his usual script…

“Az?” Emmrich’s warm, familiar voice pierces directly through Rook’s thoughts, the large smile still evident on his face if not now featuring a small bit of concern. “Are you alright, my love?” 

“Yes, yes. Sorry! Not sure what’s got into me today.” Rook laughs half heartedly as he pulls the collar pin back from Emmrich, “So you like it?”

“Why of course-”

“Great!” Rook turns to hold the pin back out to the stall owner, “I’d like to buy this please.”

Before Emmrich can even fully process what's happening, Rook places a small black box into Emmrich’s hands & smiles brightly at him. 

“A gift… if you’ll have it.” Rook offers, smiling sheepishly.

It takes a few moments for him to catch up, but once he does the older gentleman’s cheeks begin to burn a light shade of pink. He was flattered enough that Rook had brought him all this way just to show him something that reminded him of Emmrich! For his beloved to buy it for him as well…

“You needn’t have my Dear truly, but thank you all the same… I shall cherish it deeply.”

With that, Emmrich swiftly places the small box into his waistcoat pocket for safe keepings. 

As he stands back up, he takes Rook’s hand into his own and stares lovingly at the man, wondering how he could soon return the gesture in kind. Though, before he could say anything else, the moment was abruptly cut short by an unknown voice from beside the pair.

“Az?”

Rook turns towards the source of the noise, his blood running cold the second he notices a familiar pair of eyes.

It’s amazing how a day can turn from wonderful to awful, at the drop of a hat.

“Maker, it really is you!” A young, extremely well groomed man yells as he stands before Rook and Emmrich. 

From what Emmrich can make out he seems to be Tevene, upper class if his outfit is of any indication and about Rook’s age. Unfortunately, his examination of the interloper was cut short when the man excitedly threw his arms around a clearly very uncomfortable Rook.

“Get the fuck off me.” Az hissed, shoving the man off of him. 

The stranger stumbles backwards slightly, shock painting his features as he stares at Rook incredulously. Though, only a few seconds pass before he seems to compose himself enough to begin nonchalantly brushing a crease out of his sleeve. 

“Sorry, I forgot you’re not much of a hugger.” He laughed, a tinge of bitterness coming through.

With his feet firmly planted in place, Rook glared at the man. His jaw clenched momentarily before he seemed to muster the words that would stun Emmrich more than anything they had experienced together thus far had.

“I’m. Not. Az.”

Now, It wasn’t the aggression that had caught Emmrich so off guard. Was it was unlike Az to be so immediately hostile? Why, of course it was! But as the stranger had just pointed out: Az was quite touch averse {except for when it came to Emmrich it seemed} so this part was somewhat explainable. What had truly thrown Emmrich was that Rook had just lied about who he was. 

During his time in the Veilguard Emmrich had grown to see that Az was a man who, despite all of his self doubt and anxiety, always seemed so proud of his identity. To see him suddenly reject his name & pretend to be someone he wasn’t.. Now that was the most perplexing and unexpected thing.

“W-what?” the stranger sputtered, leaning back for a second as he re-examined Rook’s face. After a few more moments of this he finally lets out another small, albeit uncertain laugh, as he shakes his head.“C’mon stop messing around. It’s me, Ren, remember?”

Rook stays as irritated and on guard as prior, crossing his arms as he glares back at the man. “Don’t know a Ren. Like I said: you got the wrong person.”

“Kaffas, don’t be ridiculous.I just heard him call you Az!” Ren gestures in Emmrich’s broad direction, irking the professor, as if the way he had been treating Rook hadn’t already vexed him enough. He hated being spoken about as if he wasn’t even there.

“Look… Az, please.” Ren’s tone softens as he lets out a slightly exasperated sigh, “I know we didn’t leave off on the best terms but, surely it’s been long enough now? We were kids-”

“It’ll never be long enough.” Az snaps back with more venom in his voice than Emmrich would’ve ever thought possible of the man. Then, seemingly dropping the wrong person act entirely, Rook steps away from the mystery man & a little closer to Emmrich. 

After a moment of silence from all three of the gentlemen, Az speaks up again, with the righteous conviction Emmrich’s only ever heard him use on the likes of the Venitori sneaking its way into his tone. 

“I don’t talk to traitors, or blood mages.” 

“Venhedis! Will you lower your voice?” Ren hisses back, stepping closer to Rook. 

However, before he can get too close, Emmrich instinctually moves forward. Not enough to stop their conversation, but just enough to force the gap between Ren & Az to stay as it is. He may not be much of a confrontational man but Emmrich would rather die than allow Rook’s boundaries to be trampled over. Even if he is lacking an alarming amount of context for this conversation at present moment.  

Ren looks up at Emmrich properly for the first time, irritated, with a hint of confusion painting his features. After a few moments of seemingly trying to assess the situation, it looks as if he returns to his original plan.

“I am not a blood mage.” He insists, focusing his attention back on Rook, “Nor am I a traitor Az-”

“And I’m not Az!” Rook retorts, glaring daggers at the man, though seeming to be a little less unnerved with Emmrich now acting as a physical buffer between the two of them. “Now kindly fuck off before this has to turn into a scene. I know your kind don’t like that.”

Ren seems to bristle at this comment, his jaw clenching as he glances away from Rook to make sure nobody really had noticed. Luckily for him, there were only a few eyes glancing, though that was still a few eyes too many for his comfort.

Without another word Ren turned and started to walk away. Only briefly pausing to glance back at the pair, almost as if trying to figure out an angle to continue the conversation. Thankfully, he eventually gives up and simply continues to walk away. 

~ ♡ ~

The two men travel home in silence together, Emmrich had tried to broach the subject but Rook just insisted that they continue their conversation back at the lighthouse. So, after what felt like the longest, most uncomfortable journey of their lives, the pair finally arrived back home.

“Rook,” Emmrich tentatively begins as he slowly closes Rook's bedroom door. “I hope it’s not too soon but I was really hoping we could talk-” before he could finish his sentence he heard a quiet broken sob from behind him.

Shocked, Emmrich’s whirls around, his eyes shooting up as he begins searching for the source of the noise. Only to find Az, standing in the middle of the room frozen, as quiet yet intense sobs continue to rack through his body. What parts of his face Emmrich can see are completely flushed red {well as red as a Qunari’s face can get}, tears streaking down his cheeks as he covers his face in a mixture of distress & shame.

“Rook, Darling? Are you alright?” The older gentleman asked as he rushed up to Az, making sure to not crowd his lover. He did, however, stand just close enough so that, spirits willing, Az could reach out to him with ease if he desired physical comfort.

Unfortunately Rook remains completely unresponsive to anything and after a few brief moments of this, it all seems to become too unbearable for the poor boy as his knees practically give way. Dropping to his knees, Az continues to keep his eyes shut tight. The only real noise that can be heard coming from the man is a mixture of the sobs and short, quick breaths.

Seeing his Love like this shook Emmrich, more than he’d expected seeing the man upset would. It wasn’t loud, it wasn’t explosive, it wasn’t anything Emmrich was used to helping comfort in students, friends or previous lovers alike. If Emmrich was to be honest, it wasn’t clear at all what was going on. It was simply as if the charismatic, funny, intelligent, strong man that he knew had completely shut down. 

In response, the necromancer moves a little closer and kneels in front of Rook, still not touching the man but merely ensuring that his presence stays known to his Beloved. 

“Do you remember the breathing exercises I shared with you and Ballara a few weeks ago Dearest?” Emmrich asks in a quiet, gentle voice as to not distress Rook any further. Once he notices a glimmer of recognition in what parts he could see of Az’s face he continues, “Could I bother you to try to re-enact them with me now?”

Over the next few minutes, Emmrich slowly takes Rook through the simplest of the routines that the trio had discussed previously when trying to encourage some self care habits in Bellara: Breathing in 3s.

Breathe in for 3 seconds, hold said breath for 3 more and then let it out slowly over the course of a final 3 seconds. As the exercise progresses, Emmrich counts out each second that passes. Once Rook seemingly masters the current allotted time for breathing, he then encourages him to increase the length of each action by increments of 1.  

This continues until, together, they are able to stabilise Az’s breathing. This development gives Emmrich the push needed to speak up once again.

“My Dear, I am so sorry today has distressed you so…” after a brief pause, “if there’s anything more I can do… I’m right here and will continue to be so until you dismiss me.”

The room remains quiet for a few minutes as the men sit in silence, though eventually one of Az’s hands begins to lower from his face. Slowly & shyly he looks back up at Emmrich, eyes bloodshot from crying and face still a little red,

“Darling,” Emmrich starts, heart and voice swelling with pure concern & affection before he’s abruptly cut off by Rook.

“I- I’m so sorry…” Az whispers, “I thought it would be okay… I didn’t think… Venhedis I’m so sorry.” 

Taken aback by the man’s words, Emmrich wonders why in Thedas Rook could possibly be apologising. Of course, an explanation would be appreciated but an apology? He would never expect it from a situation like this, especially when his beloved is so clearly and intensely distressed.

“Rook… Dearest… you have nothing to apologise for.” The professor coos as he raises his hand to cup Az’s cheek, tilting his head to look him in the eyes. “I am merely worried for you, My Love.” 

Rook sniffles slightly as he looks up at Emmrich, welcomed back into the eyes he was so happily, so ridiculously, losing himself in just hours before. He could almost lose himself in their endless comfort once again if he wasn’t interrupted by his lover a few moments later. 

“Please… if you could. I would greatly like to understand what happened today.”

Rook’s breathing stills a little at the request, it’s as if his whole body freezes yet again at just the idea of answering what on the surface seemed like such a benign question. But… it wasn’t truly benign was it? 

Prior to this, Rook had always been able to brush off the questions he’d received from the handful of lovers who had just happened to stumble in on him like this before; they all had quickly accepted that Az wasn’t one to talk much about these types of things. Anything too intense, too real, that was a no go. And frankly none of them cared enough to try again after asking once. But Emmrich… Vashedan. 

That man cared too much and saw too much , Rook knew he couldn’t lie to him.

He didn’t want to lie to him.

“I…” Rook starts, before he’s even figured out where his sentence is going. “You don’t understand… you don’t realise what you’re asking.”

Emmrich pauses momentarily, taking his time to really think through his next steps. After a few seconds, he gestures to the empty spot next to Rook. Once he receives a tentative nod in return, he sits himself down next to his lover. 

“Then tell me; help me understand, Az.” With that Emmrich places one hand in Az’s, holding it tight as he places his other hand on top. 

They stay like this for a few minutes, both men leaning into one another in that comforting silence that Az loved so damn much. 

Rook spends the time trying to figure out what to say and how to say it. Wondering whether he should even say it at all or if he should just grin & bear it as usual. Lying through his teeth to his partner in the process. Would it allow them to continue exploring what they were to each other? Or would it destroy the small amount of trust that they had been able to foster while Rook had still been desperately trying to keep the other man at an arm's length?

The fear of the latter seemed to be the thing that finally broke through to Rook. He couldn’t go on like this if he ever wanted something real… and no matter how many times up until this point that he had told himself otherwise… Gods did he want something real. 

So, Az finally decided to be brave. 

 “Okay,” he started through a shaky breath, “I told you, I didn’t live in Dock Town till recently. And that I grew up not far from it or that market...”

“Yes,” Emmrich responded hastily, hoping to encourage his companion to continue his train of thought.

“Well… turns out everyone likes to revisit the places they used to frequent from time to time. Whether they’re a common asshole… or a Magister's son.”

At this Emmrich’s eyes widened slightly: sure the young man that had so rudely interrupted their lovely day out was immaculately dressed but surely he wasn’t… Rook loathed most Magisters almost as much as he loathed all Venatori.

Rook let out a slight, self deprecating chuckle as he noticed the look on Emmrich’s face. 

“I know… a Magister's son and a random Qunari Laetan… How could those two be friends, right? Well, contrary to popular belief: some Magister’s kids aren’t born with hate and greed in their hearts.”

“Rook… why did you…” Emmrich starts, uncertain of exactly what he wanted to ask first. 

Luckily, or unluckily depending on how you view the situation, before he could give it much more thought Emmrich was abruptly cut off by Az again.

“If I admitted who I was… if I said ‘Yes Ren, it’s me, I remember you!’ I wouldn’t have been able to… We wouldn't have gotten out of that market without me killing a Magister's son… and us needing to avoid Minrathous again… that’s not an option.” Rook pauses, breath growing a tad shaky, “I couldn’t do that again. Not when there’s so much at stake. Not just for Minrathous, not just for my home… but for the world…”

The elder gentleman let out a slight hum of understanding, starting to rub circles into the top of Rook’s hand again as he continued to leave space for Az. Not daring to interrupt the flow of vulnerability that he had honestly never thought he’d ever witness from the man.

After a few more moments of this, Rook speaks up again. 

“If it’s alright with you Emmrich,  I don’t quite have the energy to go too deep into it tonight… I can give you the short of it though… for now?”

Emmrich simply nods, pushing his questions aside for tonight as he instead continues to focus all of his attention on Az, leaving the Qunari trying not to burn up again from a mixture of embarrassment & shyness. Though after withstanding a few seconds of the intense concentration that was being directed at him, Rook seems to be able to refocus on his own words. 

“Okay, so… Ren and I were friends when we were younger… and well… I suppose at one point we were something more to each other than that. Though it turns out, the apple really never does fall that far from the tree.” Az lets out a small, bitter laugh before continuing. “Anyway, thousands of lies, 1 dead close family friend of mine & of course 1 blood magic ritual later and… well let’s just say it took me a long time to even think about going near that market again. Nevermind…”

Another heavy, still silence fills the air, though this time it’s one of shock. 

Emmrich knew Rook didn’t talk about his past much, as someone who also didn’t talk about his own a great deal, Emmrich had assumed it was for similar reasons. There were probably some painful things Az didn’t want to talk about in fear of resurfacing past upsets but… this was just a snippet and it was already so much more than the necromancer had expected the poor boy to have been subjected to.

“In any case,” Az starts again, wiping a stray tear from his cheek as he moves away from Emmrich slightly, “I suppose… as a result - I don’t really do relationships anymore… not really anyway. It’s a lot harder to have something real with someone when they realise you’ve got way more baggage than you’ve been letting on.” Rook fails to stifle a self deprecating, harsh laugh. “Even harder when you have to keep all your shit weird bottled up, pretend you’re not constantly on the edge of a panic attack and now I suppose lead the fight against a pair of Elvhen gods while a third is in your head.”

A few moments of silence fill the room as Emmrich stares incredulously at the man before him. 

Rook, Az, the unfaltering leader of the Veilguard as Emmrich had come to know him… the man who faced every single horrific, dire situation head on since the men had met. His Darling Boy wasn’t infallible after all. In fact… he was almost just as bad as Emmrich at avoiding all of his problems till they came crashing down on him in one fell swoop.

 “So… I guess what I’m saying,” Az begins again, this time in a much quieter voice. “Is, I understand if this is a bit… much. I’ll try not to hold it against you if you wanna call this off now.”

It’s as if those final words immediately snatch Emmrich out of his thoughts, his eyes snapping back up to Rooks somehow even more full of shock and concern than before.

 Surely Az couldn’t be suggesting…?

“Joking,” he quickly continues, “Sorry, I wouldn’t hold it against you at all… I couldn’t if I tried really... Y’know, If you wanted to call it quits here I mean… I- I’d get it.” He finished with as big of a smile as he could muster, turns out it wasn’t much of one and by the Gods did it look like it would break at any moment.

Without saying anything else, Emmrich simply steps closer to Az, grabbing his beloved’s chin to tilt it back towards his gaze. 

“Dearest,” he begins, staring deeply into Az’s eyes, “nothing could keep me from your side.” The professor takes one of Rook’s hands in his free one and grips it tightly. “Especially not something as natural as history, as ‘baggage’. Spirits willing Az… I will stay by your side into the afterlife, or at least for as long as you’ll have me.”

A few seconds of silence pass as Rook tries to process the words that had just left his lover's mouth. Never in a million years had he expected to find such genuine care and affection… someone that would not only see him collapse in a heap of distress but someone who would also stay with him the entire time and then accept him… with all of his ever growing pile of weird Vashedan.

Overcome with relief and an overwhelming sense of acceptance, Rook steps closer to Emmrich, crashing his lips into the necromancers. His free hand worms its way around Emmrich’s back to pull them closer to one another as the kiss is returned just as eagerly. Emmrich leans into it, releasing rook’s hand only to wrap his own arm around the Qunari’s waist, tightening the embrace further.

And they stayed like that. For as long as they could, they stayed like that.

[ofstarsandvibranium]

He's A Pretty One: Part 3 (Final)

Fandom: Stranger Things

Pairing: Eddie Munson x F!Reader

Summary: You’re visiting your cousin in Hawkins for the summer and you meet his very pretty and very rebellious friend and bandmate.

Warning: smut - oral (male receiving)

Part 1 Part 2

You watch in amusement as Eddie stuffs his face with burger and fries. You're sipping on your milkshake, occasionally stealing a fry or two from Eddie's plate to dip into your drink.

Eddie looks up, suddenly aware of your eyes on him. He sits up, quickly wiping his mouth with a napkin, "Sorry," he mumbles, still chewing his food.

You chuckle, "It's fine, Eddie. You're a growing boy. You need your food."

"Pretty sure I'm older than you, sweetheart," he says with a pointed look.

You shrug, "By a year."

"Still older," he takes a fry and tosses it at you, "Respect your elders."

You smirk and tilt your head to the side, "What if I don't? You'll spank me?"

Your gaze and comment makes Eddie squirm in his seat and you love it. You laugh with a shake of your head, "You're not used to that, are you?"

"To what?" he asks trying to look oblivious.

"People flirting back at you."

He licks his lips and looks down at his plate, "No, not really. I'm, uh, not well liked in this town." He murmurs, moving some fries around his plate.

You scoff, "Which is such bullshit. You're pretty and funny and a helluva guitar player."

Eddie blushes, "Yeah, well, most people in this town aren't like you."

You prop your elbows on the table, resting your chin against the palm of your hand, "And what am I like?"

"Bold. Hot. You don't give a shit about what others think."

You snort, "Living life caring what people think of you just hinders you from reaching your full potential."

"Yes! Exactly! Exactly!" Eddie looks at you with bright eyes like you hung up the moon, "God, where have you been all my life?" You chuckle and swipe another one of his fries.

___________________

You two chat for another hour before you two grow tired of diner's ambiance. Eddie pays for his meal and your milkshake, then you're both walking out of the diner. His hands are in pockets and watches as you head to the passenger door of his van, pausing to look at yourself in the sideview mirror and reapplying lipstick.

After smacking your lips together to make sure the color was evenly distributed, you look up to see Eddie watching you. You smirk and lean against his van, "You comin' or not, Pretty Boy?"

A grin makes its way onto his face as he fishes out his keys and unlocks the passenger's side. He opens it for you, holding his hand out like a gentleman. He rushes to the driver's side after you're settled.

"Alright, Van Halen, what's the next stop?"

"To the stars," he says with confidence as he starts up the van and Metallica continues to play.

You nod your head to the music, occasionally singing a lyric here and there as your view becomes a windy road and a shit ton of trees.

You pout at Eddie, "If you're taking me far away to kill me, I'm going to be so disappointed, Eddie."

He snorts, "Please. You'd definitely be the last girl standing in a horror film."

You shake your head, "Nah. I'd be the surprise kill. Throughout the entire film, I'd give off the vibe that I'll be the final girl until the slasher makes a sudden appearance and stabs me in the head or something."

Eddie looks at you with a cocked brow and you shrug, "This isn't the first time I've had this conversation with someone."

He chuckles and shakes his head, "God, you're perfect." You're thankful that it's dark so Eddie can't see you smiling to yourself as your cheeks heat up.

___________________

In total, the drive takes about twenty minutes. Your stop is at a cliff that overlooks a lake and forest. You step out and look up. Your jaw immediately drops.

"Holy shit. This is fucking amazing." The stars are twinkling in perfect view above you.

You turn to Eddie, his gaze already on you, "I've never seen anything like this."

"I like to come up here a lot."

"You bring other girls here too?"

He shakes his head, "Nope. You're the first girl I've ever brought here."

"Really?"

He shrugs, "I told you, people don't really like me in this town. Girls especially. They all think I'm a freak just because I don't conform to their preppy bullshit."

"I'd definitely have a crush on you if I went to your school."

"Like I said before, you're different than the people here." he gazes into your eyes softly and you feel a fluttering sensation inside you.

You clear your throat and turn away, "So, are we just gonna stand here or you got some blankets or something we can lay on?"

"Oh yeah! Hold on!" he rushes into the van, pulling out two blankets and laying one onto the grassy part of the cliff, while he wraps the other around you.

You both sit side by side taking in the view. You two sit in a comfortable silence for what feels like forever until you speak up, "So how come you come up here so often?"

"Just to think. To get away from it all," he gestures back towards the town, "It's a nice place to sit and think. People won't bother me here, won't give me shit just 'cause I listen to metal music and play D and D."

You shake your head disapprovingly, "I'm sorry these asshats don't see how awesome and cool you are."

He shrugs, "It's whatever. I'll be outta here soon enough. I'll have enough money to record my demo, I'll get signed, and I'll be off in California and eventually touring the world."

"And you already have your first groupie right here," you say with a proud grin and he cackles, "I fucking knew you liked our shit!"

You laughed with him, "I never said I didn't!"

Both of your laughter dies down and you two are staring at each other. With the moon light shining right down on you two, you could see as Eddie's eyes glance at your lips. You were done playing games. You pull him by the lapel of his vest and press your lips to his.

You could tell he was taken by surprise at first, but he immediately started kissing you back. His hands cup your face, holding you in place as he kisses you back. You're sitting in a weird position so you pull away so you straddle his legs.

"Is this okay?"

He looks at you with a lust filled haze, "Fuck yeah, it's okay. C'mere," he grabs you by the thighs and pulls you even closer to where you're now settled on his crotch. You can feel the hardening bulge under you.

You smirk, "All riled up from that?"

"Sweetheart, I've been trying not to pop a boner around you since I first saw you."

You cackle, "What a romantic thing to say, Eddie." he grins at you and pulls you in for another kiss. Your arms wrap around his neck while his hands rest on your hips. He squeezes when you give an experimental grind onto his clothed dick.

He pulls away with a gasp as you grind down on him away, "Keep doing that, I'm gonna cum in my pants."

"Okay," you push him onto his back and you crawl down his legs so you're face is near his crotch.

He gulps, "What're you doing?"

"You don't wanna cum in your pants. So cum in my mouth instead."

You can't help but laugh when you watch Eddie's eyes widen and jaw drop, "You serious?" he asks with a gulp.

"I can beg if you want," you draw circles over his denim clad bulge, "Please, Pretty Boy, can I suck your cock?"

"Fuck. Yeah. O-Okay," he's fumbling with the button of his jeans and you laugh, pushing his hands away, "Let me," you say. He watches you as you undo his jeans with ease, pulling them and his boxers down enough to pull out his cock. He's propped himself up by his elbows to watch you.

You giggle and it makes Eddie nervous, "What? What's wrong?"

"Even your dick is pretty, Eddie. What the fuck."

He snorts, "I've never heard of having a pretty dick before, but thanks. But, um, can you lend a guy a hand?"

"Oh, you're getting more than a hand, Munson."

You wrap your hand around his length and you hear Eddie let out a shaky breath. You look up at him with a smirk, "Now, don't let go too soon. Lemme work for it at least."

"I'll try."

You lean in and lick a stripe up the underside of his shaft. Eddie immediately falls onto his back again and lets out a loud moan, "Fucking shit," he mumbles and covers his mouth.

"Now don't get quiet on me, pretty boy. No one's around, lemme here how good my mouth makes you feel," you lower your mouth onto his tip and give a teasing suck.

"God fucking-you're not making this easy for me, sweetheart."

You smirk as you take more of him in, slowly bobbing your head up and down his length, your hand stroking him at the base.

You take as much of him as you can in your mouth before letting off with a gasp. You take him in your mouth again, head moving up and down faster this time.

"Fuck. Yes! Like that, baby! Just like that!" A hand goes to the back of your head and you let Eddie set the pace for you. You watch him through your lashes. His eyes tightly shut, teeth biting onto his lip. He hits the back of your throat and he moans loudly, "Shiiiit," you pull off him.

"You gonna cum for me, Pretty Boy? Hm? You wanna shoot your load down my throat?"

"Fuck, yes. Please. 'M so fucking close, baby."

"Give it to me, Eddie. Lemme have it," you mumble, taking him into your mouth again. Your mouth and hands working in tandem for his release. He's lightly thrusting into your mouth when suddenly feel him cumming down your throat. You keep your head still as he cums.

"Fucking shit!"

He lets out a long gasp and falls limp against the blanket. You giggle as you sit up, swallowing his load. He lifts his head to look at you and sees you smirking down at him.

"I've never cum so hard before."

You snort, tucking him back into his pants and moving to lay beside him, "I'm taking that as a compliment."

"Oh, it's definitely a compliment, baby. Shit, that was-it was-you're so-"

You place a hand over his mouth and say, "You're welcome."

You cuddle up to him, pull second blanket over the two of you. You both lay in silence staring up at the stars.

"Sweetheart?"

"Yeah?"

"Is-Was that a one time thing?"

You turn your head to him, "It doesn't have to be. Honestly, I really like you, Eddie. Just sucks that I'm only here for a few more weeks and then I'm heading back home."

He wraps an arm around and pulls you closer, "Guess we'll just enjoy it while we can. Deal?"

You nod, "Deal."

"That being said...can I eat you out?"

You snort, "Of course. But maybe in the van where it's comfier and warmer."

"Yeah. It's cold as fuck and I think my ass is numb."

You two immediately get up and collect the blankets, tossing them into the back where you settle and Eddie's immediately pulling your pants off.

Your time in Hawkins won't be long, but you're for damn sure it'll be the best time you've ever had because of a pretty boy named Eddie Munson.

[dollypopup]

I think something we don't talk enough about is just how relatable it is that Colin's completely lost in life and is also just 22 years old. His whole thing in the books was that he was 33 and running away from his responsibilities, not wanting to be in just one place, least of all Mayfair, and frustrated at himself for being aimless and unsure of his future. But that just doesn't work in the same way in the show because. . . who of us wasn't unsure and adrift in our early twenties?

Of course he doesn't know what to do with his life. Did any of us? Personally speaking, I certainly didn't. The modern equivalent is that he almost got married in his undergrad and then finished his degree studying abroad when the engagement fell apart. He was sad and disappointed in himself. He is one of eight siblings, those of whom are around his age already more successful than he is. His eldest brother is the head of the family, his elder brother was in art school and close to his siblings, his younger sister is married with a title. His other younger sister is embroiled in political efforts and another is about to make her debut in society and will also be wildly successful.

Colin is deeply, deeply relatable. He wants to live up to the expectations of his family, expectations that are, in many ways, in his own head. He's a middle child, frequently lost in the shuffle. A chronic people pleaser who just wants to bring some ease. Sure, we have Chaos Colin, but in Season 1 and 2, all he really wants is to be useful. He doesn't have much use in his familial dynamic, so he looks to be useful to other people- Will and Penelope in particular.

I think there's a lot about Colin that, once you scratch beneath the surface, is a reflection of a lot of people. He's unmoored, yes, but especially in our current time, that is incredibly common. He's a young man trying to find his foothold in the world, and nothing he does seems to fulfill that. Colin tries to drink like Benedict, but it doesn't make him happy. He tries to marry like his Mum preaches about, like Daphne is expected to, and it's looked down on. He tries to travel, to be a worldly, educated person, and it doesn't bring him peace. He writes, but not to share with anyone, least of all after he gets so few replies. If his own family doesn't want to hear or read his recollections. . .who will?

We talk about wanting to see Colin humbled in our fandom. . .but let's be honest, he is already humbled. Colin is, for most intents and purposes, alone. He's lost his father and his previous engagement, his mother hardly notices him, he's curled in the shadow of his siblings, he tries things and none of them capture his heart or reveal themselves as his talents, nothing he seems to do is ever good enough. I think almost everyone can find something about him to go 'wow, that's me'.

Colin is discovering who he is, and I'm curious as to his story and how they're going to take it, because so much of the book dynamic with him just can't fit. Sure, he can be jealous of Penelope's success, she's younger than him and seemingly found her purpose, is much more established than he is as a person, but beyond that? I love book Colin deeply, but 22 year old Colin and 33 year old Colin have different struggles and different dynamic. Colin's not a rake. He doesn't frequent brothels or break hearts. Hell, in S2 he even said he's just a bystander, not taking part in any flirting or conversation with women looking to be married (save for Pen). His reputation as a flirt isn't established like it is in the books, and he's struggling to make sense of himself. He's not running from the yoke like his book counterpart, and the argument between him and Pen, in which she accuses him of running away to avoid his responsibilities, just doesn't hold water the same way. He's a confused, lost man, doing his best and trying his best and falling flat on his face. That speaks to a lot of us.

I don't know, I just love both versions of him dearly, and I hope the show allows him the depth of nuance he deserves.

[ssshiversss]

Hyello~ I figured I should do an intro post of some kind.

You can call me Shivers. (I go by many names. If you know me by any of my other names, call me those. I answer to all of them.) 34 - He/Him - Unrepentant Multishipper

I make art and I write fanfic! My personal tags for this blog: #my art #my writing

I've had a weird relationship with tumblr over the years, and while I consider myself to be very friendly, I have been burned by fandom culture more than a handful of times and am a little cagey as a result. But, that being said, I'm open to art trades and requests, and don't be afraid to shoot me an ask or a message if you're so inclined.

Random facts and rambles below the cut.

I originally hail from the Elder Scrolls fandom, and I don't really care too much about keeping that a secret or hiding my other blog's identity. I wanted a fresh start for my DE art, and my old tumblr was full of too many memories, both good and bad. If you've followed me here from TESblr, welcome! Happy to have you. Or fuck off, depending on your intent.

I started playing DE in early July of this year and it consumed my damn soul. I have never been so deeply impacted by a piece of media. Genuinely life-changing. I let myself enjoy it without dipping into the fandom for about 3 months, but I hit a point where I really wanted to see what everyone was creating. I'm here for the art and the fanfic, and maaaaan oh man do y'all not disappoint.

I'm pro-kink and pro-smut. This does not mean I'm "proship" which I guess is just shorthand for pedo these days, but I block anti/proship drama on site. I'm a tax paying adult who likes to explore complex sexual topics in fiction. I can't believe I have to say it, but what I explore in fiction is not a 1:1 ratio to things I would condone or even enjoy in real life (for fucks sake).

All that being said, Harry/Kim is my flagship, with Harry/Jean in close second, and Jean/Kim in third. I love when they're an OT3, but it's a tricky one to pull off. So kudos (literally) to some of my favorite fics that have managed it beautifully. I aspire to it one day lol. I love genderqueer!Harry and transmasc!Kim, but I don't write/draw either exclusively.

That's all for now! If you read all this, you're a champ. I hope you have a very good day and many blessings upon you. -S

[let-us-cultivate-our-garden]

The Owl House Series Finale Thoughts, part 1

So, now that I’ve had time to vent and gather my thoughts I can say that The Owl House series finale, was a letdown. 

There were strong elements: the animation, the voice acting, the music, all incredible. I do deeply appreciate the hard work and talent the crew brought in making this show and how many people have felt represented and seen by the show’s inclusivity and themes. I feel that this show will be beloved and remembered for a long time.

However, I feel like the show made critical errors that actually undermined what it set out to do. Before I get into my thoughts, let me explain how I got into this show:

I happened to stumble upon the show because it looked neat and heard that the show creator also worked on Gravity Falls, another show I enjoyed. The first season was fun; bright, clever, and you could tell it wanted to tell a larger story with deep and meaningful themes. Season 2A was also fun and it had begun to depict a darker, more mature world. I didn’t think too much of the show, it was just fun, a typical kids’ cartoon show with good storytelling and memorable characters. Nothing really grabbed me about the show.

Until Hollow Mind.

Long-term fans will remember people being disappointed by the episode because they became attached to Fanon Philip that had appeared during the hiatus and we got something completely different in canon. How did this seemingly sweet young man turn into Emperor Belos? Turns out, he’s just a dick. A huge, murderous dick with a hero complex. 

I wasn’t there for Fanon Philip but what drew me to Belos was that in HM, his apparent backstory was in the literal background of the episode and it sparked my imagination. I joined the fandom because, like many, I wanted to know what Belos’ deal was. Many talented and creative people came up with long and compelling theories about the Wittebane brothers, speculation that was further fueled by the grimwalker reveal and Caleb appearing in Belos’ memories in King’s Tide. That speculation grew and people wrote whole fan fics and drew art depicting the trials and troubles of the Wittebanes. 

I became invested in the Wittebanes because their story was so tragic: two orphan boys who grew up in a cult, essentially forced to participate in witch hunts in an adapt-or-be-hanged situation, only for the elder to actually see the error of his ways and leave his younger brother behind, making him think he had been bewitched and that it was his duty to save him. 

We got more scraps of information in Thanks to Them, the most important being how the brothers only had each other and became witch-hunters to fit in. In For the Future, Caleb’s apparition appears--whether a ghost or hallucination is unknown---above his specter is a bloody knife, Caleb stares accusingly at the wretched, shambling remains of his younger brother. Philip lashes out angrily accusing him that it was his fault and that he “tried to save his soul.” This is a highly interpretive scene, and many thought it implied Belos’ deeply buried guilt and how he always lies to himself to justify his actions. All the while, deep down knowing the truth.

With all that in mind, what did we learn in Watching and Dreaming? What made this young man who ventured out to what he thought was literal hell to rescue his brother? His only family? Only to kill him in a fit of madness and spend literal centuries trying to recreate the brother of his childhood, to erase his original sin, all the while descending into madness and depravity?

Turns out he’s a dick. A huge, murderous dick with a hero complex.

“You assume Belos’ goal comes from a genuine place,” the Titan tells Luz. And seemingly the audience because fans wanted to see this story, this foundation to all of the horror and trauma. To understand how a man becomes evil. 

Well, according to the show, he’s just like that. Luz attempts to reconcile Belos’ goal of saving humanity with her own and wonders if their morality is really so different. Silly human, the Titan says. Your goals and motives are genuine, he’s just delusional and evil. So you can take comfort in the fact that your enemies’ goals are just self-serving, but yours are the real deal. 

Sorry but this is lazy.

You can’t say people are complicated and then turn around and say actually, no some people are just delusional and power-hungry and we’ll leave it at that. It seems that, in the universe of The Owl House, only good people are complicated; Lilith cursed Eda because she was desperate to get into the Emperor’s Coven but then she spends the rest of the time trying to cure her sister. Amity bullied Willow, but only because her parents forced them to no longer be friends, Hunter was the emperor’s right hand man, but only because he’s an abused teenager. Meanwhile, the villains of the show don’t have their motives given such depth, they just act in selfish and petty ways because they just are. 

I wouldn’t be bothered by Philip’s flat characterization if the show did not waste so much time giving us hints and clues that there’s actually more to him. What a twist! The villain you thought had greater complexity is just a Standard Villain, how genius! Such clever writing!

If he’s going to be simply a metaphor and not a real character then don’t tease us with a story that suggests otherwise. Keep your story clean and concise. Don’t dangle a potentially amazing storyline that aligns perfectly with the protagonist’s only to yank it away.

This is a waste of the audience’s time and squashes what could have been a wonderfully twisted and dynamic villain. But the show wasn’t interested. It's much easier and more comforting to just say bad people are just bad and never explore why. You could never become the villain because you’re good; don’t bother worrying that you and the villain have the same goals because his aren’t genuine!

 Remember kids, people are complicated. Unless you’re a villain. 

[extracurious]

Well trying to write a story until BTSV trailer drops.

꧁༺

❂Word count: 6.7K

❂Fandom: Spiderverse

❂Pairing: ghostflower(AU, no powers) [Miles-26, Gwen-25]

❂Tags: friendship, love, family, trauma

༻꧂

Eɳʝσყ Rҽαԃιɳɠ! 😊

  ᙡՐ❍ᑎↅ❤Ʀ❍ᑌԷⲈ

“Well even though I don’t believe in consistency, I could surely tell that you aren’t okay with it. The variations in your behavior are quite unsettling to me. To my opinion, going there would help you acquaint with likeminded people, explore new ideas and passionately work on it and in fact come in contact with those bright students of the school. That’s what you longed for right?

 Miles, man you really need to come out of this. You are becoming unresponsive and unfocused frequently. I indeed challenge you to fight for yourself!”, remarked Hobie after being completely failing to make the mood lighter around them.

 “You know already, that all these days I have been trying so hard to come to terms, well to be more precise, I was escaping…from……everything! "His eyes glistening with tears. 

"Those moments are burnt into my memory. They even keep popping up when I am indulged in a crucial work”, Miles sighed wearily while looking out of the second-floor balcony of his newly rented apartment. The breeze was cool and gentle thus bringing a soothing vibe and lessening the effect of gloomy atmosphere. 

 “Can you even imagine that I went so furious today while explaining a simple topic from mechanics to my student and thereafter I scolded him for not understanding it and having the guts to take admission in Visions”, spoke Miles, who being purely disappointed for his sudden outburst.

“That’s not what you call extreme man! I expected much more drama from you.”, joked Hobie while nudging Miles’s shoulder. The latter is not in a mood to get offended so easily as he has been occupied with other thoughts lately. 

“You should definitely consult my humble friend. If we go by your words, modern problems require modern solutions, isn’t it?”, deliberately making the last attempt only to realize it may become futile soon.

“I guess, that’s the only thing left to be done”, uttered Miles with almost zero hopes after being quite for few seconds. 

With a wide grin, Hobie cheered up his friend “Alright, then decided. I’ll make the arrangements and your task is to reach at correct time. Unless he would be busy with any medical conferences, there won’t be any delays.”

“I’ll do it. But not because you told me to”, patting him on the back, Miles returned to his study desk, smirking slightly, which didn’t go unnoticed by Hobie."Did you just use my…...well, anyway leave that!” replied Hobie smiling. 

"See you later man! 

And... and just be yourself. Goodnight! "

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“Excuse me. Can you help me to get inside of this room?”, asked a man with a smog of confusion in his face. He wore a rumpled white shirt where it was printed “Best dad”. But to be specific his appearance seemed much grayer along with those dull eyes searching for something in the void. Miles assumed that he may be around sixty years old, but felt that he has already seen him somewhere earlier in Brooklyn.

Putting down his groceries on the floor, Miles fully turned back to give proper attention to the elder person. Before that he has checked his phone for any new message from Hobie about his appointment. Of course, his friend kept his word. His doctor’s visit was scheduled at 7:30 in the evening. Keeping his mobile in the pocket, he spoke"where are the keys?”

“I actually don’t have them with me. Must be with my daughter, who is busy finding a job in New York. Just help me to break this damn door, young man.”

“Sir ….um…if you ask me for a perfect solution then it’s not the best way to get there. "Replied Miles, who simply can’t understand how to tackle this situation.

“Then it’s not the best idea to stand here until she comes back, right? And I have already left my phone inside which I generally not take it with me when I am out, so no chance of calling her up!”, a frown slowly dawning on him.

Purely bewildered by this old man’s sayings, Miles hesitantly took his phone out and asked if he at least knows his daughter’s number. And thankfully he remembered that much.

“Hello am I speaking to Miss Stacy? "Asked Miles. But he received no response from the other side. 

"Hello...Hello are you there? Where's your voice gone to?"

“Yeah...I can hear you. Maybe a technical glitch. "

“Oh fine. As a matter of fact, this is our first convo. The truth is your dad has been standing here for a long time without the possession of his absolute necessities. In short with no keys. I suppose you took them while you both were out and forgot to return”, said Miles playfully.

“That’s impossible! I never bring keys with myself. First of all, ……. wait………Oh…my goodness...…I know what just occurred…please ask my dad to check his pockets carefully.�� This is the sixth time he is obsessed with this. "Chirped the girl over the phone.

And finally, the keys were found, the door was unlocked, the girl thanked him with utmost generosity, but Miles was completely perplexed by this whole circumstance and thought to himself, “How irresponsible someone can be? "

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Miles eyes scanned the small chamber and he noticed that one of the overhead lights was flickering thus casting a dim glow over the room. “Can’t they just resolve the problems of these electrical devices before a patient arrives?" thought to himself.

“Here Miles! Don’t worry about the poor conditions of the room. I’ll talk with authorities. My commitment to providing quality healthcare will remain steadfast! ", told the doctor happily while gesturing the seat in front of him.

On hearing the backstory, Dr. Peter B Parker who according to the British guy is the best neurologist in Brooklyn, asked “You’re becoming disinterested too in your teaching field. 

So, tell me Miles, is it really beneficial to linger on such mental trauma that surely affects your daily routine? "

“Should I try to present you an award for bunking school? ", simply questioned him and it was quite easy to figure out that he has a knack of humor.

“Are you trying to jerk me around? If that’s the case then you’re definitely not helping me.” replied Miles while nervously sitting on the chair and fidgeting with his hands.

“Oh…not at all. "Said the doctor as he chuckled heartily. He then cooed his little one, Mayday, sitting on the table, who has been busy playing with his father's medical instruments. 

“I think I have found a rescue remedy without any kind of strong medications. Like, now hold Mayday and bring her close to your chest, cause it’s quite rejuvenating!” chirped the doctor while adjusting his glasses.

And amazingly it worked to calm Miles down even for a short duration although he constantly denied first. He looked at her affectionately and whispered, “Do you know how cute you are? Always carry this innocence with you, cause nowadays it is hard to find. "

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After finishing his dinner, Miles tried to engross himself in making of the question papers for the next term, which had been pending since the last week. This has already become a new normal for him. Keeping everything for the last minute. Now who was the "irresponsible one"? 

Although Saturday morning was not a good start, especially with that elderly, somehow the day's conclusion was well managed. 

 Dr. Peter was not ready to prescribe any kind of medicine for its serious side effects; however, Miles was not convinced with his only form of "rescuing," so he allowed him to intake an antidepressant and a medicine for sleeping well. But he made sure Miles visits for his monthly checkup and also asked him that if he feels low, he could come over and have a good time with Mayday; just inform him earlier about his arrival. 

 When almost one-third of the writing and solving equations were complete, he heard the calling bell ringing. He looked up from the papers to find the clock showing 9:45pm."Who was supposed to be here right now?".

Moving himself from his comfort position, he walked across the room and pulled the door open. 

"Sorry to disturb you at this hour. By the way, I am Gwen Stacy, your neighbor. 

 I earnestly beg your forgiveness for troubling you this morning. Actually, it was my fault for not being cautious about it. If you weren't there, I guess I would have lost him again," said the girl honestly. 

 "You know what? I won't chide you for entering my home. I hope you could tell me if anything is bothering you." said the person, who himself was not ready to disclose previously and doubted every time. 

 "Are you sure?" asked the girl with a surprised look. "Yeah, and why I won't be?" replied Miles casually. 

He felt his initial irritation wearing off. There was a certain placidity covering her face that genuinely left him with a small grin. 

Gwen declined the offer of coffee but at last accepted the glass of water. 

While sitting down, she couldn't resist the urge to peek at the other two rooms facing her. 

Miles quickly understood and said teasingly to the blonde, "It's just me. I enjoy the privacy and the tranquility of this big room. Although a little imperfect for a solitary lifestyle. "

 A slight blush crept up her cheeks, but she tried to ignore it. 

 "If you don't feel like sharing, it's still okay. I am never forcing you. That much I could assure. " said Miles, who took the empty place on his sofa just beside her, eventually maintaining a respectable distance. 

Without looking directly at his eyes, she finally spoke, while her fingers grew tighter around the glass. "No. I mean, umm, my dad is not well. In fact, he has been suffering from Alzheimer's for two years.

 All things feel like a maze on his mind, and... the loved ones easily become strangers to him. Well, the childish acts aren't uncommon to him."

"Often on gazing outside the window, if anything amuses him, he quickly follows that, thereby leaving his important items behind. And that's how he even forgets who locked his door. 

Most of the time, the ground-floor residents find him wandering aimlessly around when I am out. One day it became worse. He couldn't recall my number. He just told my name to the NYPD officers. One of them recognized and then helped him get home safely," she sighed.

The smile fell away on hearing her entire monologue. 

 "Just a minute... is he... George Stacy?" said Miles, who was quite shocked by the revelation. Now the blurry vision of the morning incident was becoming clearer to him. Gwen simply nodded her head at their agreement. 

Miles remembered his dad talking about his great bonding with Stacy. Good old times when they worked together under the same division. His dad used to praise George Stacy's immense dedication and resilience. Miles never thought his first encounter with the old man would go this way. 

 On looking at the pain in his eyes, Gwen said, “I know how it feels. Staying close to him yet so far. And funnily, sometimes he has mistaken me for my mother, Helen Stacy. 

They have been so compatible with each other. Like... a match made in heaven!"

On clearing her throat, she continued speaking, "Well, on the other hand, the frustration is real. I struggle to establish a proper relationship between us, although it becomes difficult most of the time due to his newly adopted nature.

All I know is that running away never saves the day."

 He felt those blue eyes getting a little watery. He wanted to say something, but nothing came out of his mouth. 

While shaking her head, Gwen said, "I... I think you could probably return to your physics. I am just gabbing a lot."

Thinking that his silence made her react like that, Miles immediately replied, "Oh, no, it was really nice having converse with you, Gwen! Moreover, I am a nocturnal guy.".

He could not decipher the gentle look that she gave. But he realized that misunderstanding was the main culprit, and that could eventually result in a huge mistake.

Deciding to shift to a lighter topic, Miles queried her, "So, your dad informed me about you looking for jobs around?"

"I guess there is no need to magnify the issue. I am already engaged in writing magazines, especially for the section considering wildlife and environment. And sometimes works as an editor for big teams. I have begun all these while pursuing literature from Brooklyn College. 

The rising costs of the duo is a predicament that can't be denied still. Maybe he has discussed that portion of my complaining to you.

" Answered Gwen merrily. 

 "I feel I should get going. Dad is in the sleeping mode but can still identify my absence. 

Catch you later, Miles! 

And...and never assume that you'll walk alone!" said Gwen with desperate sincerity as she went back to her apartment, biding good night to him. 

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"As soon as possible, I have to sort out these pictures. 

Holy Crap! This one appears terrible. 

Umm....this at least looks good than the earlier one. ", the photographer kept pondering over about his proper selections. 

He became distracted when he noticed the buzzing in his phone. Without any reluctancy, the man picked up the call. 

 

"You what? Am I not dreaming right Gwen! 

Let's go. "said Pavitr while jumping out of the chair celebrating their mutual joy. 

" So, what happened next? Tell me fast. I just can't wait to hear your lovey-dovey stuffs. "

"Stop getting so excited about something that isn't going to occur anytime! " said Gwen while rolling her eyes but inside she was indeed incredibly happy for the little progression she made today. 

"Enough of waffling over Gwen. You know what you were doing! Since the college life it was you who could not contain your small, to be specific, your gigantic excitement about him. 

Well, if I correctly remember it all started from Visions. Miles this... Miles that... he is the best... and the list goes on. 

And if I was in the same college as yours, I could have set you two up by now." told Pavitr with a smugly smile. 

"You are going too far with your imaginations Pav! " said Gwen. 

"They were not my imaginations instead were your fantasies. Just admit it, Gwen. " said Pavitr. 

"Okay... Ok... You win cause I admit that I feel a connection with him. But it is simply one-sided. There is nothing going to develop like what you're thinking. I don't want to intervene in his life. Just wish he remains happy with whatever he has. “, added Gwen. 

"At first I thought, we would be getting into a bitter exchange of words, which could be escalating into a heated argument. Fortunately, that didn't happen. But it appeared that he is still struggling with his parents’ death.

I am not sure that I did the right thing, Pav! " said Gwen. 

"You encouraged him to add life to his days. Not just act like a monotonous machine. And I can guarantee he was really glad to have you as his company.", replied Pavitr. 

" Umm...I need to tell you this, last night I noticed that tall guy again. "

"You mean Hobie? "

"Yup. He always accompanies Miles in important matters. But he visited only this Friday.  It has been almost two weeks after Miles moved in here. And today Miles went out somewhere in the evening while I was returning from my editorial place. Quite confusing to me. Hope everything is alright!"

"Sounding sus! 

Anyway, Gwen I have a pretty idea. Now that you two are familiar , so I feel you should definitely invite Miles to your birthday on Thursday. And surely, he won't be declining the invitation of a sweet girl like you. It would be mood refreshing for everyone of us. "said Pavitr. 

"Alright Pav, but don't begin messing with him then and there. Maybe he won't be supporting your jesting qualities! 

And before I forget, let me remind you that Monday's meeting is very important. Dare not to neglect it. See ya, bye! ", replied Gwen at the end of the call. 

 "Hallelujah!”, Pav exclaimed to himself." Just can't wait for the climax of their story. 

Will they? Won't they? "

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Mainly the anxiety attacks were shaping a bad feeling which hindered the proper completion of the task in hand.  These couple of days, he could himself point out the irregularities in his actions. Also didn't have a power to charge up his soul. So instead of performing few physical exercises after waking up, on following Hobie's advice for getting a healthy athletic body and mind, Miles had been sitting idle for over thirty minutes straight. Who would even say that he used to been a good basketball player in his school life? His name was registered in every tournament and the sport council members always used to appreciate his skills and improved stamina. 

Just......how fast the night changes.

While adding cherry on top of this, now it's that girl who got him so hooked up in those chain of thoughts since their meeting yesterday. Her soft melodic voice constantly echoing in his ears. 

At one time, Hobie asked him about his interest in any girl. He simply brushed it off. During his popularity in the school, some of the so-called beauties approached him too. But he avoided them. 

"She too studied in the same college as mine. How come I failed to notice her? Well even the branches were different for us, still...ughh... it's so puzzling to me! 

I had known that she was junior to me. Once dad told that Stacy's daughter has taken admission in the Visions too? 

Yet, I have to agree that my obsession with studies went to such a peak level, that getting involved in girl problems were beyond my scope “, Miles grieved. 

"Something......quite appealing about her which is making me go weak, almost getting me drawn to her. Handling these new emotions are becoming more complicated for me!", said Miles, seemingly unable to deal with it. 

The incoming call made Miles break out from his clouded thoughts. And at the same time, he heard an ambulance siren outside. 

"Unknown number? ", putting aside his unresolved feelings, he picked up the phone. 

"Hello! ", said Miles. 

" Hi, umm, Gwen this side. ", her voice faltered. 

" Are you ok? Anything serious? "Miles demanded, almost surprised by this strange way of conduct. 

"No, umm, I am now going to admit dad in a nearby hospital. In a hurry I just brought my dad's mobile with me. Calling you from there only. If possible, could you accompany me, I am feeling quite unstable? ", replied Gwen sadly. 

" Alright I am coming downstairs, just provide me some time to put my shirt on. "Miles assured. 

On their way to the hospital Miles could see her feeble attire.

" Just like any other normal day- he woke up, had his morning shower, began reading his favorite book although from the same page which had been finished a month earlier. The bookmark didn't help him a lot cause he often couldn't remember the place where he last kept it resulting in me finally searching the entire house and providing a new one. ", she chuckled softly. 

" It was just after the breakfast, that he felt dizzy and passed out. Unusually, it was first time observing him in this state. And before that he grumbled about his shortness of breath, which turned into an awful one. "said Gwen. 

 Utterly distraught by the news, Miles couldn't comprehend the old man's sudden illness apart from the mental condition. 

" You can count on me! ", he promised her while keeping a hand on her shoulder and gently squeezing it as a gesture of reassuring. 

On reaching the destination, George Stacy was then admitted to the ICU, and the patient party stayed in the waiting room. 

Later, the doctor informed that it occurred due to the falling down of blood pressure. Nothing major to be worried about. All the vitals were properly checked and the drip was on. 

When she was allowed to see her dad after his senses kicked in, the sight of him lying in hospital bed purely devasted her. Letting the duo chat, in the meantime, Miles went to complete a noble deed without telling her. 

Gwen rushed to her father's side, kneeling beside him, her hand finding his. "Dad, I don't like to see you in this way. 

Recover quickly and we would then go out for a daddy-daughter date together. “She blinked back her tears while her voice trembled. 

" Gwennie, who told you that I am not ok? Look, kiddo I am just fit and fine! "said George with all the strength he could muster. 

They both shared a laughter and a fist bump. "Dad, won't you like to talk with another visitor? asked Gwen, signaling Miles to enter the room. 

"Why did you have to keep your other half secret from me?”remarked George Stacy. 

"Dad! He is not my boy...", Gwen impatiently transferring the attention to Miles, her face turning red like a fresh tomato, silently pleading him not to bother with the nickname. 

"Umm....your daughter is telling the truth. We are just friends! " answered Miles although not denying the potential of "too close friends".

" Get well soon, Captain! This doesn't suits you! We can have the better introduction when we all get back home. "said Miles, smiling, but memories of his carefree days spent with Rio and Jefferson kept flashing back in front of his eyes. It felt fragile but filled with nostalgia. He somehow managed to hide his tears so that no one questioned him in his weak state. 

" And, young man, take care of my little girl. "said George teasing him. 

" Not to mention it, Sir. "replied Miles with a thumbs up. 

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Their friendship aged like a fine wine. The roots of it developed since the time spent in coffee breaks amidst the college classes, trying out of the box, sometimes blending music with physics. Like experimenting all the time. The bond grew stronger and yes, there existed a pure resonance between the two. 

"Laziness has been gripping your mind, man! Keep an eye on yourself Miles! And remake a schedule which you would genuinely follow from now on. 

Whereas the band performance has been a blast last day in Chelsea. A lot of crowds gathered and appreciated us! " said Hobie over the phone. 

"Great dude!  One day you would definitely reach great heights! " said Miles happily. 

"And about the balanced routine... Ok, don't get too anxious, I am gonna start working on it soon. Just let me settle the recent matter. " added Miles. 

"Which one? " asked Hobie, raising his eyebrow.

"I have never felt this before... There is a girl, I mean my neighbor, she is kinda becoming my bad habit. "

"Does she feels the same way? More than friend? " Hobie asked, smirking. 

"Maybe... maybe not! She is different than most of the girls. That much I know. Kind of having a demurring personality! "said Miles. 

" Just carry on with your game man! She won't be miles away from accepting your proposal. "said Hobie .But there existed an unfathomable emotion in his voice which lacked his confidence. Still Hobie appreciated the fact that Miles found his solace in her.

As Gwen approached Miles, he hurriedly said “I’m hanging up now. Catch you later! ", then awkwardly turned around to face her. 

"Can you stop being so good Miles? Why did you pay the medical expenses and the additional bills? ", asked the blonde, still in disbelief. 

"That's what friends do right! " replied Miles, his eyes still glued to hers. 

On looking down at her fingers, with the corner of her lips curling into a smile, she said "Alright! But next time it will me.Can't let you get away with it!

So, deal? "

"Can't promise you on that! Still sealing it, as per your saying. "said Miles, grinning. 

"Gwen, if I'm correct, then you haven't taken a bite since the morning. So, let's go to the canteen and finish our lunch. And I am not ready to hear any nos on this topic! "

While indirectly looking at him, she said, "Why can't more people be like you? ",her voice just a little above whisper. 

"Like how? " asked Miles without pressuring her. 

"Oh. Nothing! " said Gwen, casually dismissing it. 

 ೃ ✦ ✧ ∗ ❥ ҉

 The clouds kept piling up as he seldomly closed the windows of his apartment. Anytime the rain was going to pour down heavily. 

The afternoon's meal was concluded, and after their evening visit, Miles insisted Gwen to stay the night over at his place, instead of living alone in her home. 

When the freshening up was done, she cleaned the disordered rooms, tied her hair into a ponytail and then brought the laptop along with her to finish the remaining portion of her deadline. 

Miles was occupied in making the dinner while Gwen got involved with her writing work.

The silence between the two lingered on. Neither of them discussed anything other than the medical issues. 

The air was charged with unspoken possibilities. In fact the consequently occurring embarrassing moments led Gwen to berate herself. 

She summoned the courage to call him this morning only, which she could have done previously on different occasion. Specially for expressing her feelings. The mugged-up phone number since the college days could have been utilized efficiently to convey her simple message. Often, she was found to write an entire block of text, just to initiate the chat. At last, everything was saved in her draft notes or mainly deleted before clicking the send option. 

On getting bored, she moved out of the sofa ,placing the laptop on the centre wooden table and went ahead to the kitchen, keenly watching Miles prepare the dish. His chopping of the vegetables gave an aesthetic view to the cooking. 

"Hey, Gwen! Do you mind giving the cheese grater? Yeah, up there on the left cupboard. " asked Miles gesturing with his hands. 

"Sure! Just a minute.....yes, take it. "extending the item to him. 

In doing so, their fingers touched slightly resulting in a shiver down the spines. Their cheeks reddened, eyes still fixed at each other, having a softness in them and the moment presently became electrifying.  

As the time passed, which felt like an eternity, the spell finally broke as the sounds of the frying pan floated to their ears. 

However, the fleeting glances continued. Their lips moving into the small smile and both of them tried to hide it. 

Upon the delivery of a notification on her phone, she darted away her gaze from Miles and focused on the messages from Pavitr. 

"How's your dad, Gwen? I was busy here with one of the photography workshops, so couldn't pay you a visit. "

"The bp fluctuations were the main cause. And the doctor told that, dad would be shifted to general ward late at night. Possibly, discharged tomorrow in the evening. Thanks for your concern, Pav, and no need to panic, Miles has been staying beside me the whole time." informed Gwen. 

"That's good! As expected from him.

 So, pause your overthinking and just don't ruin the pleasant mood that you two have been enjoying now. 

For any requirement, feel free to contact me, Gwen. "typed Pavitr excitedly. 

"The dinner is ready! "Miles chimed in. 

" You told not to cook too much dishes, so just made these Tortilla Rolls. I am sure you will like it!. "said Miles while sitting down. 

"Yum..yum,it is so...tasty! Didn't know you are such a good chef? "said Gwen joyfully, holding those wraps. 

But Miles looked surprisingly unhinged. 

" Miles? Is anything wrong? Earth to Miles! Why haven't you started eating? "she fired questions to him when there was no response. 

" Huh? Oh, Gwen! Sorry just has been diving deep into my thoughts. 

Actually, I learnt everything from mom. All credits definitely go to her. 

It was me standing near her, providing a helping hand and even getting little rebukes from her for adding the wrong spices. She used to tell,"Mijo, I suppose that's not the way of doing? It requires patience that you need to develop through constant hands-on practices. Put your soul into whatever you are involved in. Never support your fickle mind, dear. And then the result gained would be fruitful!"

As he became overwhelmed with emotions, tears fell down his cheeks. 

Everyone assumed, Miles was a sturdy person. However, the truth was that, he was just like a lone bird, who had come out of the cage but a piece of chain had been still attached to its legs. It rattled...when it moved... 

While caressing his face, Gwen cooed with positivity, " Everything's gonna be ok! Have your faith on yourself, Miles. 

You're the man who aspires people to dream big, analyses things critically, a person like you is born to accomplish wonderful things. Just don't let any upsetting series of events weigh down on you. Don't get lost! "

Wrapping his arm around her waist, he cried his heart out. 

While clinging to her, he said, " Same case for you, Gwen. Both of us need to be strong...We can't leave the battlefield like a loser, instead shine as a true warrior! ".

 

 The clock struck 02:30am. 

Miles stood up and stretched his arms, which had been paining since the last few minutes, due to constant modules writing. 

" What exactly has been the name of her magazine? Umm... right! Sunflower. 

That's such a cool name. Guess I would have to register for a monthly subscription of it! "exclaimed Miles enthusiastically. 

Turning his head, Miles noticed Gwen sleeping peacefully. Locks of hair scattered all over her face. The girl might be wandering around in the lands of her dreams. To him, she looked ethereal. 

Captivated by her serene presence, he moved towards her and planted a soft kiss on her forehead, whispering “Mi Lucero" to her. 

Adjusting the bedsheets, switching the lights off, Miles then went to the sofa to spend the rest of the night. 

⋆⋇⋆⋇⋇⋆✦꘏✦⋆⋇⋆⋇⋆⋇

 On waking up, Gwen discovered a note stuck on her worn-out laptop. That means Miles had already left for school. 

"Good morning! I guess, oats would work as a good breakfast for you? All the items have been kept on the dining table. Help yourself. 

And I would be reaching home late today as I have to attend a teachers’ conference. By chance if I get there early then no issue at all! ", joined by a smiley emoji at the bottom. 

Finding a pen from the stand, she flipped the note over, and wrote" Thanks for everything! I'll ask my friend to go along with me. - Gwen".

After sticking it on a book, she found some medicines at the the corner of the desk. "Miles takes these pills.... that means... he couldn't .. work through his sorrow! 

Yet, he has not refrain himself from guiding me in his melancholy!"said Gwen with tearful eyes, utterly dismayed. 

Yes, Miles was absolutely a blessing to her. There existed no doubt. She felt lucky to have this man in her life. So, she promised to stay as his anchor forever. 

ೃ ✦ ✧ ∗ ❥ ҉

This time Gwen yearned for something simpler. And not a grand celebration of her twenty fifth birthday. Just inviting close friends were on her bucket list. 

Dad had been discharged on Monday and she had to handle everything appropriately. On consulting Dr Peter, he slightly raised dad's dosage and asked to visit the chamber next week for a check-up. 

That evening, while Miles was entering his apartment, he was introduced to Pavitr, who was just leaving the place after bringing the patient back home. As a result, Pav eagerly invited him to Gwen's birthday. 

On observing Miles frowning which became more pronounced, while Pav grabbed Gwen and gave her a bear hug, he immediately cleared the confusion and told with a mocking tone" Someone seems jelly with just a platonic embrace? "

"What? I mean.... no. Not at all" said Miles, nervously looking other ways. 

"Man, can you even imagine how much Gwen gushes about you? How much she lov-"before anymore words were spilled out, Gwen quickly acted by putting her hands to cover Pav's mouth. 

"Yeah, I was telling him how good human you are. Also, one of the best physics lecturers in Visions. " Said Gwen, grinning ear to ear. 

"Oh thanks! Very much appreciate it! " replied Miles, a blush forming on his face. 

"Any problem, just give me a ring Gwen. Don't hesitate ever. Alright I am truly tired. See you guys later! " as he left them standing together on the corridor. 

ೃ ✦ ✧ ∗ ❥ ҉

Miles had his silky matte green shirt and brown jeans on, which was the last present gifted by his mom. Much ahead of the fatal car crash they were met while travelling to new Jersey for the college admission. Due to the head on collision, his parents were declared spot dead and only he was sent to the hospital for his serious injuries. 

On receiving the unpleasant news, Hobie reached there and stayed beside Miles each and every day until he recovered from his wounds. 

Looking at the mirror he traced his fingers along the marks. Those scars had been a reminder to that horrendous memory.. 

"What are you up to, man? It's a party where I at least don't wish to reach after cutting of the cake. " said Hobie, who was covered with one of his gothic punk rock metal black outfits. 

"Wait a minute! Let me fix my hair.... yeah....now ready to go! " said Miles excitedly. 

As Gwen welcomed them in, Miles was genuinely awestruck by her appearance. She was dressed in a stunning A-line blue gown which shimmered in the light and was able to perfectly capture the essence of her beauty. Just with a simple makeup, she looked absolutely gorgeous. Probably this was a gift from her dad.

On gaining his composure, he wished her many many returns of the day, and was about to introduce Hobie to her, when he noticed both of them staring at each other and became completely dumbfounded. 

"Are you guys familiar? "asked Miles desperately. 

" Nah... First time. Extremely glad to meet you, Gwen. Happy birthday dear! " greeted Hobie while shaking her hands. 

"Yeah, my pleasure to meet you! " said Gwen anxiously. Momentarily brushing off the subject, she allowed them to follow her near the dinette set. 

Thereafter, all gathered around the birthday girl, singing songs, providing her the presents and Pav continued clicking away pictures of her various poses. 

The space was intoxicated with the mingling scents of the served cake pieces, Irish dishes, shared laughter and joyful cries. Thus, weaving a tapestry of some heart-warming moments. 

 

"You're growing on me, young man! " spoke George Stacy, patting on Miles back softly. 

"You know what?

I am giving you the permission to take my daughter's hands in yours and declare your profound love for her. Get your girl! "

"Sir... I feel you're mistaking! " replied Miles with a flushed face. 

"Don't teach me about the hardships of a true relationship! I know how you two look at each other. So, I am not in mood to listen to your nonsense yapping. Just go and stop wasting time. " demanded Stacy. 

Letting Pavitr take care of the elderly, he moved out of chair and headed to the kitchen where both Gwen and Hobie chatted and cleaned the culinary sets. 

Thinking of lending a helping hand, he entered the counter. Naturally he overheard their conversation. 

"Does he know? " asked Gwen sheepishly. 

"That you used to bring those homemade foods to the hospital cause Miles complained about the taste and quality of theirs? "

Hobie looked over at her and resumed his narrative,"He complimented every single dishes prepared by you although the actual cook was unknown to him. Even today he mentioned that this type of cooking style seemed kinda friendly to him! 

You visited him daily but never got the confidence to initiate closeness with him. Every time you stood far. Your so-called gesture of "not interference", right? 

And when you saw him not awake, you went near him without disturbing his sleep, stroking his hair gently, whispering sweet nothings. "

"Also, what about your extra financial aid in his college studies and hospital bills, when I was unable to provide the full support? Even after organizing gigs, collecting cashes which didn't meet the costs. 

All these years, I have kept it confidential. However, one day, he will know somehow. How would you prevent that from happening, Gwendy? "

"You have a golden opportunity now. Just tell him without holding back yourself! 

And to be frank, you both are tremendously down bad. "

On hearing his past, Miles straight away went back to his apartment, saying that an important school work was remained untouched, which needed immediate attention for the next day. But it was in fact the opposite. It was an excuse to hide his pain. A way in laboring himself to get accustomed to those truths.

 

In the meantime, Gwen came out of the kitchen in order to open her presents given by her friends. Pavitr gifted her a beautiful diary, Hobie brought a premium quality chocolate truffles, and lastly a wonderful painting of her by Miles.

As her curiosity was insatiable, she wished to talk to her man, to know the story behind that incredible masterpiece. When she couldn’t figure him amidst others, Pavitr instantly nodded her towards the door.

On making her way to the balcony, where stood Miles motionless, she affectionately placed her hand on his shoulder. His eyes found hers. However, she failed to interpret his mental picture.

It was obvious that his heart ached watching her play the hide and seek for so long. So he tried to approach a different way to make her spill out those unsaid words to him. And also , to make her know how stongly he felt about her.

Hence, instead of answering her concern, slowly Miles motioned himself in the direction of her and started speaking in a tone which was barely above a whisper but carried so much tenderness.

" Your heart is now racing, isn’t?” Miles continued stepping closer…. more and more… The air was thick with tension between them.

" The words are abandoning you,your lips are softening….. and breath deepening, right?”

“Gwen, can you bear, if I come this close to you?”asking her teasingly, thus finally placing his hand against the wall, creating a barrier, which was both playful and flirtatious. He spoke again, his breath warm against her skin, "I have to tell you something! "

“What could possibly he want to say? Did he….anyway eavesdropped on our discussion?”, nervously thinking to herself, as she anticipated, her mind fluttering and gradually her breath becoming heavy too.

Miles leaned down slightly, his forehead brushing against hers, and spoke,“Actually I am not at all okay. Infact I am suffering from a rare disease whose cure lies with you only!”.His intense gaze at her was undeniable.

“I have become that person who has been left with the memories of his great times spent with family but he can’t move on and who constantly yearn to feel the pleasure again.

As if I don’t feel alive, kind of missing myself too. Amidst this chaos, you make me feel like I am breathing, Gwen!”

Without diverting the matter, knowing there was no escaping in love, she murmurred timidly,pushing a loose strand of her hair, " Extremely sorry for keeping everything secrets. I.. I couldn’t help to bring myself in front of you. Fearing you might never accept my proposal. And mostly….got scared in unknowingly hurting you in your grief. So ,I admired you from afar only. "

 “I get it where you are coming from. Good that at last you are trying to efface this emotional distance between us.” assured Miles with a weak smile.

“Enough of beating around the bush, so I am directly saying, that I wish to know you more. Won’t you help me with that Gwen?” asked Miles sincerely. The innocence in his eyes made her feel cherished and understood. Her heart skipped a beat and she agreed this was it.

As the world around them faded way, Gwen pressed her lips against him in a chaste warm kiss, the two souls reconnected with each other, discovering the passion and igniting fires in them.

“Guess, you were the one who cheered the most during those basketball tournaments?” asked Miles, smirking while pulling away from the kiss. His heart swelled with immense joy.

“My voice was not that loud. Yet, I prayed for your wins. And if I am being honest, you were an amazing player!” answered Gwen contentedly, gently slapping his shoulder.

“So, never try to conceal your feelings from me, alright? said Miles smiling at her.

“Promise! "said Gwen,her eyes shining while she gripped the back of Miles's shirt tightly and engulfed him in a hug, which felt genuinely intimate.

On settling her head on his chest, Gwen softly whispered,"All I want is this moment to never end!”

-extracurious

(Not to be reposted||like, comments, reblogs appreciated❤)

[mysteriouslybluepirate]

If I write a video essay on why S2 overall didn't work for me personally what bits should I add from fandom consensus (I'm posting this before I go to bed, I'm first breaking S2 down episode by episode, putting 'pins' in topics for after when I break down why I was disappointed, I'm already at Ep 3). I won't be discussing how Izzy's death impacted elder queers (I'm 21) or physically disabled people as it's not my place, but will be linking people's experiences. I also live in a rural Red state, I've been visibly closeted my whole life. I can't speak to finding a queer family the way Izzy did in S2.

I've already got:

Jenkins confirmed that this season was always going to be 8 episodes, so he bit off more than he could do and gave us a story as broad as an ocean with little depth.

Izzy's arc is centered on leaving Ed, only claiming to not want to be without Blackbeard, though neither character really WAS Blackbeard. Izzy suddenly becomes Ed's mentor.

How if you wanted Izzy to be tied to Ed and Blackbeard it could have been so easy to just portray Izzy as suicidal this entire season, and genuinely depressed, instead of having the time of his life.

The fact Izzy, Stede, and Ed rarely interact with the main crew. In the scenes, they are in they are framed as two separate groups. Making Ed feel like he was never brought back into the family, and Izzy as only having made friends with the heartbroken crew

Stede being shallow as fuck, ignoring Lucius' trauma, telling jim to 'hush' in ep 4 during the Ed apology scene (fuck him), telling Ed he shouldn't apologize in ep 8, the ONE TIME Ed apologizes to someone, looking at them and fully meaning it.

Ed stops trying to make peace with the crew after episode 5.

Lucius' line implying sexual assult, and Fang's line about what he did to Ed's unconscious body being the type of humor this show should have stayed away from.

Not confirming what the Olu/Jim/Archie/Zheng situation is IN CANON. Are they all together? Who knows??? I literally see it as Archie/Jim and Zheng/Olu where Jim and Olu are partnered? But the only confirmation of that is Olu called Jim Babe this season. Like????

Izzy's funeral being tearless, them making jokes atop a grave, and it is followed by a WEDDING. OH, and the ring being left there(I won't reference the leg, but will reference that some find it odd that THEY REMOVED HIS LEG, a part of his body, to use as a headstone)

IZZY'S DEATH NOT SERVICING ANY PLOT. It doesn't move the plot forward, it's thrown in for no reason.

Izzy's death set up. (IE. Two infamous pirates not checking a hostage. It's lazy and doesn't add to the plot)

The fact Izzy is fucking lying if he thought the crew loved Ed- like?.

The crew seriously thought Ed murdered Buttons, didn't they...

[mariacallous]

This year, online communities drove news cycles about everything from moldy Lunchable knock-offs and the death of a squirrel named Peanut to the 2024 US election.

More often than not, the internet has been the progenitor of movements, changes, and trends in the real, physical world. As we close out 2024, I wanted to fill you in on some of the online communities I’m keeping an eye on and how they may influence culture, politics, and public health around the world.

Let’s talk about them.

What’s on My 2025 Internet Radar

There is not enough time in the world for me to list all of the absurd subreddits, Discord chats, and TikTok communities I follow to get a sense of how the conversations everyday people are having are influencing our politics. But I wanted to at least list a few that have been top-of-mind for me recently.

Beauty and Fashion TikTok

Going into the new year, I’m most interested in seeing trends that emerge out of the beauty and lifestyle communities on TikTok and Instagram. In a previous newsletter, I wrote about how themes like “quiet luxury” and “old money” aesthetics on TikTok signaled a Trump win long before polls ever opened. And already, I’ve noticed conservative backsliding in these spaces with Trump’s return to power.

For The Atlantic this week, Kaitlyn Tiffany wrote about how “edtwt” (eating disorder Twitter) is growing on X now that Elon Musk has eradicated any form of trust and safety on the platform. I’ve noticed an uptick in “thinspo”—imagery that encourages unhealthy body images and disordered eating—on TikTok as well. There’s the usual Olsen twin obsession and extremely low-calorie diet plans circulating on the platform, but that content has traditionally been holed away from the generic TikTok user.

Now, my feed is filled with popular beauty influencers giving “health” advice that amounts to disordered eating. The Make America Healthy Again community, or what is essentially a Robert F. Kennedy Jr. fandom, is filled with junk science that goes as far as saying vegetables are toxic. I’m afraid that the same conservative cultural conformity that helped reelect Trump could revive the disordered eating trends that have hurt so many women and girls and return them to the mainstream.

Elon Musk Fandom

As an unelected official, Musk has only ever had three groups of people to hold him accountable for anything—shareholders, fanboys, and maybe, sometimes the government.

For the most part, the first two believe Musk can do no wrong. Throughout the presidential campaign, many of Trump’s most ardent fans joined the Musk fandom as well, lessening the odds that the government will be subjecting him and his businesses to scrutiny anytime soon. But these Trump fans will always support him before anyone else, even if the other person is the president-elect’s “first buddy.”

Since taking over X, they’ve demonstrated that well enough. Some of the few times Musk has walked back decisions have involved Trump fans expressing disappointment that Musk hasn’t acted like a true Trump fan himself. When Musk suggested that he wouldn’t reinstate banned pro-Trump accounts without them being reviewed by a “council,” Twitter elder Catturd bullied the billionaire into skipping the review process altogether.

Inevitably, more of these situations will pop up under the Trump administration, and I’m curious to see if any of Musk’s supporters end up jumping ship.

Drop-shippers

The act of drop-shipping—third-party sellers filling retail orders—exploded in popularity in the late 2010s, becoming a quintessential part of online hustle culture. With the introduction of the TikTok Shop, drop-shipping has entered a renaissance of sorts, with more and more people using the app to make quick cash that can scale.

Placing tough tariffs on Chinese imports was one of Trump’s biggest economic promises this election cycle. If TikTok isn’t banned come next month, Chinese tariffs could ruin the app’s drop-shipping profitability, since a majority of the product manufacturing is done overseas. What happens to the drop-shippers? Where do they go next?

The New Jersey Drone Hunters

Without much guidance or information from the government, conspiracy theories surrounding the mystery drones supposedly hovering over the eastern seaboard have gotten out of control. Just this week, Real Housewives star Bethenny Frankel posted a series of Instagram videos claiming to have a secret Pentagon source who told her that the drones are searching for nuclear material.

Now, I’m not claiming to know the truth about the drones, but I can see what it’s doing to people online. For the past few weeks, I’ve been monitoring one of the largest Facebook pages dedicated to solving the mystery, and what started as a place for folks to share their strange sightings has devolved into hysteria. Members are accusing the mods of working for the Feds of hiding the “truth” (whatever that is) and encouraging others to invest in iodine pills, gas masks, and, of course, toilet paper.

It’s too early to tell, but I’d bet that these groups are introducing already emotional and agitated people to theories they otherwise wouldn’t believe in. Is this what the alien and UAP communities have been waiting for? Maybe! In any event, don’t expect the faithful to believe anything the government says unless someone lays an alien corpse down in front of photographers.

[woundjob]

the data from the polls yesterday is fascinating! as i suspected, we are a very international fandom, with more than one instance of one person in a small european country tagging something along the lines of “I’m definitely the only one here,” and many many people outside of the English speaking world.

we’re also a majority white fandom, which i guessed and is of course very common, as fandom spaces are usually mostly white and also that matches my experience, but of the people that answered the poll 10% picked “other” and 66% picked white, meaning 24% of us consider ourselves people of color and/or mixed, and that’s not nothing when you consider that demographics on tumblr itself are largely white. of course I’d like the fandom to be a bit more diverse, and I’d definitely like to have more community, but 24% people of color is honestly not as bad as I’d originally expected.

there’s also definitely a point in here somewhere about where people are coming from, and the kind of diversity that brings to the table. the people in this fandom span all across the world, and many of the white people in, for example, Eastern Europe, are racialized white people. I’m not here to argue whether or not Turkish people are white lol, but my point is among the white people who answered both polls, there are loads of interesting people that don’t fit the American expectation of whiteness, and loads of people for whom class is determined in other ways.

So far, my thoughts on the findings are of two minds. Firstly, it’s disappointing but not surprising that white people are such a big majority here. Fantasy and video games both tend to be white dominated spaces, and we already know that tumblr/fandom spaces are mostly white in themselves. Also, myself and some mutuals of color have noted racism (or more harmless whiteness) we’ve experienced here. Second, and on the contrary, it’s pretty encouraging to see all types of people from all over the world. The white majority is obvious, but not as big as we thought, and also, the fandom spreads everywhere. That’s pretty cool! I think as a whole we could use more discussions on racism, especially since it’s such a huge theme in many of the elder scrolls games, and the white people in the fandom should also know to share in those discussions should we decide to have them, rather than muting this topics. A big part of liking a narrative very much is being able to critique it. Liking something blindly and being averse to any critique is what children do, not what people who are genuinely invested in a story do. I’d really love to see more discussions about important things like racism and xenophobia, both in the fandom and in the actual games.

Anyway this post has gone on for a long time now lol i hope you found this as interesting as i have!

[sheetsonfire]

Beware Your Elders | Part 1

Fandom: Chicago PD

Pairing: Adam Ruzek x Reader

Genre: drama, angst, hurt/comfort, romance

Warnings: head injury, held hostage, murder

Word Count: 6154

Summary: When Adam gets assigned to patrol for the day, he is reunited with an academy classmate and friend. Based on Season 1 Episode 8 - “Different Mistakes”

A/N: I have been working on this for a long time, so long I fear I may never finish it if I don't post a 'part 1'. Huge thanks to @elius-learns-to-write for being so patient and helpful by reading this multiple times.

-

You approach Trudy Platt’s desk with a pep in your step, you felt like you were hitting your stride lately and being at the 21st was a good fit for you. 

“Good morning, Sarge.” You offer to the desk sergeant, watching her remain engrossed in what was no doubt a mountain of paperwork that seldom grew any smaller. 

Eventually, she pulls her eyes away and looks up, “Mornin’, Y/L/N. What’s got you all chipper today?” She eyes you curiously, but still with a slight smile on her face.

You play up your mood, “Oh nothing, just happy to be here, Sarge, under your tutelage.” 

Even though you were hamming it up, the sentiment was indeed true. Trudy Platt was one of the most revered and respected of her generation, and you could understand why. It’s why the 21st was such a coveted placement.

She shakes her head, giving you a dubious look as she checks her list of squad cars available. 

On the cusp of making a decision, Trudy spots Alvin Olinsky coming through the door with one Adam Ruzek. She leaves you waiting patiently in exchange for calling the older Detective over.

You give Olinsky a polite and distracted smile, watching briefly as Ruzek heads towards the gated stairs that lead to Intelligence’s bullpen, silently watching someone you used to be so connected with pass through like a stranger.

It irked you that he hadn’t gotten back to the messages you’d sent him since he got picked from the academy to join Intelligence; it felt like a small ‘fuck you’ from Adam - for him to just forget his classmates, to forget you. 

You two had been inseparable; forging a true understanding and appreciation of how the other worked. Sometimes it felt like you were soulmates. Whether it was platonic or romantic, you’d never had the chance to figure that part out.

You sigh, glancing at Trudy’s desk to find she’s still talking to Olinsky. The conversation isn’t exactly scintillating, something about non-suit reports, so you take a glance around at the hubbub of the precinct for a distraction from your irritation. 

People are coming and going every second, keeping the district ticking over and running as smoothly as Chicago would ever allow. 

Passing by are Burgess and Atwater, whom you wave goodbye to as they head out for their day on patrol, they had become good friends and you really liked having them around.

As you’re about to turn your attention back to the desk, you hear the familiar voice of Adam once again. He had apparently stopped to talk to some of your fellow patrolmen, also classmates from the academy.

You watched the three men converse, the patrolmen were fascinated with Adam’s sunglasses and he appeared to be enjoying the awe his very presence seemed to inspire. 

You roll your eyes, glancing at Platt and Olinsky, realising that their conversation had come to an end. Now, they were looking at you curiously.  Before you can question their staring you see Olinsky divert his attention to Adam and the patrolmen, just as you had.

Tuning into the conversation not even a few metres away, Adam’s words are just about audible as he talks to the guys in uniform, “Yeah I don’t know how it is for the patrolmen here. I mean, I skipped that part.”

Olinsky looks on, his expression changing to one of a disappointed parent, and you find yourself smothering a smirk. Clearly, the senior officer wasn’t too impressed with Adam’s lack of modesty. 

You gawk in amazement as Adam continues, glancing at Platt who waves you off so as to let her keep eavesdropping too. 

“Yeah, put in your time boys. That’s my advice. Then maybe you too can join us upstairs, right?” 

Before you know it Olinksy is on the move towards Adam and you’re giddy at the prospect of Ruzek possibly getting chewed out by his superior.

You can’t hear what Olinksy says next but suddenly the patrolmen are saying their goodbyes and Adam is being ushered in your direction, towards the sergeant’s desk. 

Finally, Adam spots you and immediately avoids eye contact, having the good grace to look sheepish as he does everything he can not to acknowledge you standing there. 

You internally scoff, cowardice wasn’t a good look on him and you were ready to tell him as such.

You don’t let it sour your mood too much, watching in sheer anticipation as Olinsky has a wry smile on his face, “Say, Sergeant Platt. Ruzek here needs to better appreciate the, uh, the journey, that he, uh, got to bypass.” 

You wanted to cackle like a maniac, seeing how Adam looks at Platt in shock, watching your sergeant’s face turn gleeful as she responds, “Oh I’ve been waiting for this day.”

–

From there Ruzek is ushered upstairs to put on some uniform, and you decide to use that moment to try and get your keys. You were ready to get your day started, and you didn’t want to be saddled with babysitting Adam on patrol.

Yet, you fear it’s already too late when you notice your keys still haven’t materialised. Trudy was clearly slow-rolling you, waiting for something, and it didn’t take a genius to figure out what or who that was. 

The look Platt gives you makes you groan, yet you’re unable to protest too much as the sergeant preemptively holds up a shushing finger. 

“Don’t. Ruzek needs a partner and you’re free, and one of my best. So don’t make me change my opinion of you, alright?” Her eyebrows go up in a pointed expression, daring you to protest further. You sigh in defeat, watching Platt nod and smile satisfied with your acceptance.

You weren’t one to want to disappoint Sergeant Platt, and it didn’t really feel like you had much choice. Besides, you did know Adam and you knew he was good police, you would just have to put aside your misgivings about his attitude for the day.

-

You're standing waiting for your 'partner' when you hear the gate open again, turning to see Adam in his patrol blues.

It’s a weird sight given he never got to have this moment when you did, and your whole body fizzles with goosebumps when he catches your gaze again.

“Ruzek.” You greet him, nodding with a smile, emotions imperceptible in your eyes.

“Y/L/N.” Adam smiles, somewhat cautiously, “Good to see you.” He offers.

“And you.” You manage to squeeze the pleasantry out, your swelling wave of feelings not yet washing you out to sea, but close to it.

Your new partner gives Sergeant Platt a small salute, “Catch you later, Sarge. Do you need anything?” 

“Nah, I’m all good, unless you see Portillo’s on your travels! Now go ahead, you kids have a good time serving the community.!” She says with a smug smile, all too happy to watch Adam get a taste of patrol life. 

“Oh, I’m sure we will,” He answers facetiously, slinging his arm around your shoulder. With that, Trudy shoos you off, and you turn towards the door as you almost immediately start extricating yourself from Adam, walking ahead of him to the parking lot. 

He takes a deep breath, knowing he had a lot of explaining to do. So he braces himself for impact, hot on your trail to the car.

-

You slot yourself into the driver’s side of the patrol car, turning on the radio immediately to check in with dispatch and update your status.

Adam climbs into the passenger side and shuts the door behind him. He desperately wants to be excited about patrol and ask you how it’s going, but there was a walk of fire that stood in his way.

He clears his throat, ready to make a speech, "Y/N, I'm-" But the very notion of him explaining his actions somehow sets you off, you'd been waiting for this moment.

"Sorry? Is that what you were going to say, Adam? Sorry that you left without a word, sorry that you blanked me when I asked if you were okay and if you needed anything? Sorry that you said nothing when I congratulated you and asked if you wanted to celebrate. Is that what you're sorry about?"  

You swallow, realising that your outburst was out there now, permeating the air as your heart thundered in your chest. You didn’t realise just how upset it had made you until you were ranting in Adam’s face.

He doesn't flinch, accepting your hurt with a guilty expression.

“Yes, exactly that. I totally ghosted you, and that wasn’t fair or right… There is no good excuse or explanation, other than I got caught up in the excitement of it all, not stopping to think about the people…the person I’d left behind. And I’m sorry that you’re stuck on patrol with me today, I know it’s probably the last thing you want.”

You sigh. Actually, being on patrol with Adam was all you’d thought about at the academy, it was something that you’d ached for when you were finally given your placement but without your right-hand man to accompany you.

Not all the wrongs had been righted, but just knowing Adam felt remorse, knowing that he hadn’t suddenly changed his mind about you… you could feel the storm clouds getting lighter.

“It’s fine… You’ve got some learning to do, and lord knows you need all the help you can get, Mr Intelligence. Being stuck with you is not the worst punishment ever, so long as you’re not expecting me to fawn over those sunglasses and the fact that you work with Voight’s team.” Your mouth upturns into a smug smile as Adam goes quiet, sitting obediently as you pull out of the lot and begin your patrol route.

Adam is sincere the next time he speaks, nodding in agreement with your words. “I definitely could learn from you, Y/N, and I wouldn’t expect you to feed any kind of ego, that’s not your style.”

Your smirk, glancing at your partner, “Definitely not my style.” 

There’s another pause between you, and you sigh. You didn’t have it in your heart to maintain that venom. You knew Adam wasn’t inherently selfish or careless, you and he were both young and starting out, so it was partially understandable that he’d gotten caught up in the excitement of everything.  “It’s good to be riding with you, Ruze. Let’s just make the most of it, alright? I can chew you out some more and patrol at the same time.”

“Yes ma’am, that sounds like a fair compromise.” Adam smiles genuinely, and your small smile is just as genuine in return. He holds out a fist for you to bump with yours, and you roll your eyes with a shake of your head. It was unreal how easily he could melt you down from being in an icy mood.

You bump your fist with his.

-

A large portion of your morning is uneventful, between some petty theft incidents and helping CFD on some of their scenes, you and Adam decide to call it time for lunch. It certainly wasn’t the most action you’d seen on patrol, and it definitely wasn’t shaping up to be Adam’s biggest day on the job. You’d even taken to responding to several cases of helping the elderly with their shopping, much to their gratitude.

Adam shrugs off his jacket and tosses it into the back of the patrol car, “Man, it’s October in Chicago, why the hell is it still so warm.” 

“The earth is not our biggest fan right now, Ruze.” You huff as the sun beat through the windshield, agreeing with the fact that even the slightest motion in your jacket caused you to overheat at the moment. You decide to join Adam and take off your windbreaker, launching it into the back as you settle into your seat.

Both of you sit in comfortable silence as you listen to the radio chatter coming in, tucking into the grilled sandwiches and shared fries you’d got from the Deli down the street, sipping happily at some iced tea. This felt like old times to you, and it settled the disquiet in your stomach from this morning’s confrontation. 

You hoped that you and Adam could actually rekindle the connection you’d forged, that he wouldn’t forget you a second time.

The last bite of your sandwich is taken when the radio crackles to life once more, 

“Units on the citywide, reports of a 10-67 and 10-68 at 1655 West Cortez, nearby units please respond.” 

You instantly put your wrappers in the door compartment, Adam picking up the radio as you pull the squad car out of the parking spot. “Dispatch, 2113 put us as responding to that call on West Cortez”.

The dispatcher responds once again as you hit your sirens, heading to your new location, “Copy 2113, holding you down as responding.”

Adam adjusts his position in the seat, more upright and ready to prepare himself for whatever you come upon at the scene.

-

10-67 Person calling for help.

10-68 Call for police made via telephone.

-

As you pull up to the row of houses on West Cortez, you take note of the uniform build, each house virtually identical to the next, save for some outside embellishments from the residents. The house next to the responding address is for sale.

You pick up your radio as you step out of the patrol car, Adam doing the same as he looks around for any immediate signs of distress. 

“2113 to dispatch, we’re a 10-97, please standby.” 

“Copy 2113, standing by.” 

-

10-97 Arrived at the scene.

-

As you approach the front door of 1655 West Cortez to knock and announce your office, one of the construction workers from across the street approaches.

“You here about the screaming, officers?” The older man asks.

“Screaming?” Adam asks, and the man nods.

“Richard Barnes, I’m the foreman on this job." He gestures his thumb behind him to the bustle of men working along scaffolding.

You nod for him to continue.

"I heard it a few nights ago, as I was locking up, it sounded like a big fight at 1655. I headed over there since the old gal that lives there made me and the guys coffee a few times. Sylvia is her name. She answered the door and said it was her and her granddaughter just having a little misunderstanding, I’ve seen the granddaughter a handful of times too - seemed nice enough though. Sylvia apologised for the disturbance and that was that. I didn’t have any other way to prove something was wrong, so I left her to it, teenagers can get stressed out, right? Didn’t seem too weird. Everything seemed alright beyond the arguing. This morning I could hear Sylvia yelling again, only her voice though, and now nobody is answering the door. That’s why I called it in for you guys to take a look.”

“You sure the granddaughter hasn’t left at all?” Adam queries,

“No, sir, I don’t think she has. I have security cameras for the site and equipment, she hasn’t shown up at all the last few footage cycles.”

That revelation makes you wonder. You nod at Barnes, “Thank you for calling us, you did the right thing, we’ll take a look.” 

He waves your thanks away, “Of course, holler if you need anything else.” 

“We will, thanks again. We might ask you to make another statement once we’re done here, alright?” Adam checks and Richard nods, “Not a problem, officers. We’re gonna be going to lunch soon, but we’ll be back this afternoon, maybe an hour or so.” He gives a small smile goodbye, heading back towards the work site and his crew.

You turn back to the property and to Adam, “Okay, let’s find out what’s up with grandma and granddaughter.”

Adam nods, picking up his radio, “2113 to dispatch, we’ve just had a 10-62A, we’re going to do a knock and talk.”

“Copy 2113, standing by.”

-

10-62A Take a report from a citizen.

-

You knock heavily on the pristine white door, glancing around the mostly empty street for signs of anybody who could give extra information. Adam takes a step back to look up at the large windows on the 1st and 2nd floors. 

Nothing happens, you both wait. Moving to knock again, your voice loud and clear, “Chicago PD, anybody home? Sylvia?” 

In the background, you hear the low chatter of Richard’s workmen and their various trucks starting up as they move off the site to head to lunch.

You look at Adam and he gives a knowing nod back. Calls like this could be nothing, but they also could be something, and it was always better to make sure it wasn’t the latter.

Adam knocks this time, not much louder than you had but you knew he liked to feel like he’d had a go too. With a sigh, Adam’s on the cusp of hammering on the door when you catch a faint shadow of movement on the first floor, the definition of a ‘curtain twitch’. 

“Ruze, movement on the first floor.” You announce, keeping your eyes fixed on the window as Adam does try the door a third time. “CHICAGO PD, this is Officer Ruzek and Officer Y/L/N, we would just like a word.”

There’s a lingering moment, then the sound of locks and chains being undone, the door opening a crack to reveal an older woman.

“Can I help you?” The woman’s hair is greying, she is round in the face, a slight blush to her cheeks, shuffling from foot to foot in navy slippers.

“Ma’am we’re with the police department, we’ve had a report of distress being heard at this address. Is your name Sylvia?” Adam asks politely, offering a friendly smile.

If the woman doesn’t like his question she doesn’t show it, offering a small smile back. “Yes, I’m Sylvia Lupp. This is my home, and I told that nice man across the street that there was nothing to worry about, I do hope we haven’t wasted too much of your time.” 

Most people would offer a more detailed explanation and some kind of reassurance, but the woman is quick to try and shut the door again, only stopped by Adam’s quick palm at the centre of the door.

The gesture is assertive but not aggressive, just enough to give Adam some extra talking time. You see the woman’s face sour for just a moment before putting back up the kindly expression.

In the motion of the door trying to shut, it had created a draft of air that carried a smell with it. It smelt simultaneously like bleach and off-meat, with a slight odour of faeces. You share a look with your partner, you already knew this wasn’t a call you’d be putting down as “nothing”. So you step forward too, letting her know that you and Adam wouldn’t be dismissed that easily.

“Uh, ma’am, please, it would really ease our minds if we could just check the house out, make sure everything’s as it should be and that both of you are okay. If it’s just a normal family dispute, then we’ll be on our way. Do you mind if we come in?” 

At worst this was about to be a crime scene, at best it was going to be a severe case of hoarding and neglect of the property, you steeled your stomach for both. You rest a quick hand on Adam’s shoulder, silently conveying you had his back as the woman reluctantly stepped aside to let you in.

You start looking around at the peeling wallpaper and the damp spots on the walls and ceilings. The smell was much stronger even a metre into the house. You swallow hard, trying to not breathe in too much. 

“I have been working on the house, we’ve had some…sanitary issues lately as I’m sure you can see. I don’t move as fast as I used to, but I am working on it. My granddaughter isn’t fond of contributing to the home, that was the reason for our argument.” She didn’t seem nervous, but she did seem like a car salesman trying to convince you of her pitch.

You let Adam take the lead, watching as he followed her into the first room on the ground floor. You used the time to radio dispatch as quickly and as quietly as you could manage.

“2213 to dispatch, we have entered the premises 1655 West Cortez, speaking with Sylvia Lupp. We are now investigating a 10-29h. Be on standby for a Code 8. There is concern for a 10-54 or 10-91D. Might have cause for CFD assistance.”

-

10-29h Caution - severe hazard potential.

Code 8 Request cover/backup.

10-54 Possible dead body

10-91D Animal, dead

-

A voice crackles through, “Copy, 2213, on standby for your Code 8, 10-54 and 10-91D. CFD are aware of the call.” You spot Adam and Sylvia coming out of the room again, Adam’s face tells you everything. Sylvia looks from you to the radio in your hand, turning on her heels as she beckons Adam to keep following, you make sure to stay in tow.

You were starting to worry about what you’d find beyond the stacks of yellowed and moulding newspapers, uneven piles of miscellaneous goods, the strewn cans of food, and the almost constant thrum of flies buzzing.

Eventually, you decide to broach the topic, “Sylvia, we’re not here to judge, but we are worried about your safety on the property right now, and your granddaughter’s safety.” 

Her head snaps to you, looking affronted, “The house needs some love, that’s all. I wouldn’t pry into how you keep your home, officer.” Adam gives you a terse look, subtly shaking his head, encouraging Sylvia to continue the tour.

You hold your hands up by way of apology, deciding you’d try again once you’d seen more of the house. This would already constitute a hazardous environment by the city’s standards, you wouldn’t be surprised to find complaints from neighbours if you checked the city’s sanitation records.

By the time you make it to the kitchen, you can’t understand how you’ve managed to not lose your lunch all over the floor, the smell had only gotten stronger and one scent, in particular, had you covered in goosebumps. 

The smell of death.

-

Sylvia stops at a door, unlocking it with a gold key she produces from the pocket of her cardigan. The door in front of you is older than the others, wooden and pale from losing its paint finish, scuffs and scratches litter the wood. She gestures to the rickety stairs dimly lit by an overhead orange glow of a lamp on its last legs. “My Luzie lives down here in the basement, spoilt girl gets her own space. She’s not home right now, out at college.”

For the umpteenth time today, you find yourself sharing a sceptical look with Adam, close to suggesting you both turn back and regroup outside.

It played on your mind that Sylvia’s granddaughter, according to Richard from across the street, should absolutely be in the home.

The older woman looked as if she was about to close the door again, but once again Adam stops the motion.

“Ma’am, we really need to inspect the entire property, if you don’t mind.”

Sylvia’s nostrils flare in what you sense is anger and frustration, but she steps aside and gestures dismissively downwards.

You let Adam go downstairs with Sylvia, keeping an eye on her from the top of the stairs, making sure you still had a view down the hall to the front door, just in case anything else or anyone else were to appear.

Then, there’s a crash and several loud thuds.

“Oh, officer, quick! He’s fallen!” Sylvia cries out, sounding frail for the first time since you met her. 

Your feet carry you as fast they can down the rickety steps, coming upon the scene of Sylvia crouched over a motionless Adam. You fall to your knees on the cold concrete floor, assessing Adam quickly and methodically.

Adam was out cold but breathing. You take off your CPD gaiter to press to the wound on the side of his head, eliciting a soft groan from him.

“It’s alright, Ruze. I got you, we’ll get an ambo here.” You reassure, only receiving another moan in response. Picking up your radio, “Dispatch, 2213 in need of backup and an ambo to our last location, an officer is injured. A head wound.”

You wait, static is the only answer to your request. So you repeat it again, and again. Your stomach begins to sink with each passing moment. The basement was stopping you from calling for help, and you were stuck down there with someone you didn’t trust.

“What happened?” You ask Sylvia, noting that though she had her hand over her mouth in ‘shock’, her actual face showed no expression at all.

“I-...he just fell, I don’t know, he hit his head on the unit there.” She points to a scuffed, faded, display unit full of old china. However, as you look at the unit you can’t see any blood or any signs that it had been disturbed by the weight of Adam hitting it. 

What you do notice is a golden bronze eagle statue laying a few feet across the basement floor from Adam. It was darker in spots, darker as though it had blood on it. 

You couldn’t prove anything without taking a closer look, but you also couldn’t afford to let Sylvia know that you were beyond suspicious. You quickly avert your gaze, focusing on your partner once more, his eyes had half opened now.

“Hey, buddy.” You murmur, giving his arm a squeeze. “I need you to keep pressure on that wound for a sec, alright?” You ask, waiting for his confirmation of understanding. 

“M’kay… Y/N, she-” He grumbles, you fix him with a look so as to stop him from talking, you figured he was about try and warn you about Sylvia, but you were already there. Instead, your partner returns to lifting a shaking hand to press to his own head with a small hiss. “Good, real good, Ruze. Just gimme a minute, I’ll be right back.” 

There were too many variables. You had to make a decision. That decision was to detain Sylvia so you could leave the basement and radio for help.

You push up to full height, “Sylvia, I’m going to need you to stand-” As you turn to face Sylvia you’re cut off by the sound you knew all too well, the cocking of a gun. A gun that was now pointed at you. 

Fuck, Y/L/N, you didn’t check for Adam’s weapon. 

You stare at Sylvia, all your suspicions were now a reality and you were mad at yourself for not being harder on her, her age had well and truly stalled what would have been immediate caution and apprehension if it had been someone younger.

Your jaw clenches, shifting ever so slightly to stand directly in front of Adam, shielding his prone form on the floor. “Sylvia, I think you and I both know that pointing that gun at me is a big mistake. My partner is injured, and this house is now in our system and flagged, anything you try to do will only make things worse.”

Sylvia waves the gun gesturing downward, “I think you’ll do as you’re told, I’m sure you can guess by now what happens to people in my home who don’t obey the rules and give this house the love it needs. Sit down, officer, by your partner. There’s a good girl.”

You grit your teeth together, deciding you couldn’t risk trying to draw your weapon and giving Sylvia a motive to shoot.  So you slowly sit on the cold floor of the basement, glaring as the old woman pushes forward, the gun never leaving the target of your head or your partner’s. Almost instantaneously the concrete makes your muscles tense and shiver, and you hear Adam’s chattering breaths on the ground beside you.

Satisfied you weren’t going to do anything, Sylvia bends awkwardly with her hip to pull your weapon out of its holster. You consider taking your chance to tackle her to the floor. You easily had muscle and speed on her, yet your surroundings did not give you ample opportunity to move or get help if something were to go wrong. You weren’t a fan of the decision, but you couldn’t risk Adam’s life like that.

You choose to instead trust that dispatch would try to check in, then they would contact Platt who would ultimately be pissed you hadn’t returned one of her patrol cars on time and come hunt you down. That, or somebody from Intelligence would notice Adam’s prolonged absence and come looking for him. 

For the moment you’re resigned to watching Sylvia totter back up the creaking stairs with both weapons and the key to the door at the top.

Unsurprisingly you hear the door slam, and the clicking of a lock and bolt follow. 

-

The first thing you do once you’re sure Sylvia isn’t coming back down those stairs is turn to Adam who offers you a sheepish smile, still pressing the gaiter firmly to his wound. 

You sigh, checking him over as he chuckles with a pained wince, you couldn’t believe how calm he was - maybe he had several brain cells knocked loose.“Seriously, I’ve got us trapped down here and you’re giving me those doe eyes?”

Adams frowns, “Last I checked it was that old gal that got us locked in here. She saw me bending down for this…” Adam fishes in his trousers pocket, producing a gold chain with a pendant attached. “That’s how she got the drop on me.”

Your eyes widen at the revelation, the pendant was marked with an engraved “L”, it seemed a given that the L would stand for “Luzie”, Sylvia’s granddaughter. 

You’re about to open your mouth again, but Adam knows what you’re about to ask, “I guess in the excitement of holding officers at gunpoint she forgot why she knocked my peanut loose in the first place.”

Frustration leaves you, kicking the dirt beneath your feet, “I should have been less patient with her, I should have knocked her on her ass. I shouldn’t have let you go down here alone with her.” 

Adam scoots closer to you as best he can without letting go of his head, you reach out a hand to steady him, helping him lean against the wall. “Listen to me, you stayed up there where you should have to make sure nobody was coming in or out without our notice, you didn’t hand her that eagle, and you couldn’t have known she’d be so brazen… She already had me before you were even down the stairs, Y/N, so I don’t wanna hear anymore about it being your fault. Alright?”

There’s a pause as the realisation sinks in for Adam, feeling sorry for himself for getting caught off-guard, watching with some amusement as he groans again, “Man, she really got me good.” 

You squeeze your arm around him gently, “I think she would have found a way no matter what, Ruze, don’t take it to heart, alright? How’re you feeling?”

“Like I got whacked in the head.” Adam retorts, meeting your unimpressed face he relents with an apologetic look, he knew you were worried for him.

“Sorry, it smarts but nothin’ I can’t handle.” The warmth of Adam’s hand on your arm makes your stomach flip, his reassuring hold burns through your shirt sleeve before he lets go again.

You try not to draw attention to your surprise at the contact, pushing yourself up to stand. “Well, for as long as you’re able to make your smart comments, I’m gonna see if there’s a way to get our radios to reach out of this godforsaken basement, or a way for me to go and get us help. Stay put.”

Adam wants to laugh at your lack of a request but rather an order, except laughing would hurt his brain, so he settles for a wry smile. “Yes, officer.” He quips, tickled by the roll of your eyes as you turn to start checking the walls of the basement for a window or alternate access point. 

-

Adam’s starting to really feel the chill of the basement as he watches you move boxes and old bits of furniture away from the walls, he studies you with a pained expression, wishing he would stop feeling so dizzy so he could get up and help too.

“You okay over there?” Adam asks, trying to shimmy on his ass to not let his back and shoulders go to sleep, his butt already well past numb from the cold of the concrete.

You sigh, trying to not be annoyed by his concern, it was sweet and you know it was hard for him to keep still, “For the 4th time, I am absolutely fine, Ruze.” 

He sighs, “Right.” Simmering in his own soup of thoughts until he feels compelled to open his mouth some more, “Y/N, I’m really sorry for everything, you know that right? I got so caught up with Intelligence, then I felt like I’d abandoned you, I didn’t know what to do with that, more time passed, and it just became this whole awkward thing.”

You stop your rummaging and periodical checking of your radio, something you were also surprised that Sylvia had forgotten to take - then again, people didn’t always consider everything when they were acting in a moment of rash behaviour. 

With hands on your hips, you face your partner with an incredulous expression, “Adam, I have been trying to talk to you about this for weeks, and being trapped in a basement is the time you choose to circle back to it?”

Adam shrugs, “No time like the present, figured before we freeze or starve to death, I’d let you know that I know I’ve been a jerk.” 

You pinch the bridge of your nose, searching for the calm to not whack Adam yourself. “Please, pretty please can you just save for this for when we’re out? We’re not going to starve or freeze down here… God, even when you’re hurt you still find a way to be a little shit.”

Adam does smile now, gesturing nonchalantly with his free hand, “It’s why you love me, Y/N. Let’s not pretend it doesn’t charm you.”

You sigh, “Oh yeah, I love you because it’s really fun when you make things more difficult.”

Adam snorts, ignoring the stab of pain in his skull, “Ah, so you do love me then, didn’t deny that bit.”

The statement goes without an answer in return, falling back into ‘comfortable’ silence as you resume your hopeful task of finding something that will get you and Adam out of this. Finally settling at a tall storage unit, one that was somehow producing a particularly cold draught from behind it.

You brush your fingers behind the heavy mahogany, feeling the cold bite at your fingertips your heart picks up the pace. It certainly felt like something was concealed by the display unit, an open space to be precise.

“Adam, I think there’s something behind here.” You say it almost to yourself, afraid to declare it to the room should it lead nowhere. 

“You need me to…?” Adam gestures in your direction, already trying to get to his feet with a slight grunt of surprise at just how unsteady he was.

“Will you please sit back down before you fall?” You chastise, taking quick strides to slip your arms around Adam and put him back on the ground. 

“I know you want to help, but the best thing you can do is stay here and let me just worry about one thing at a time, alright?” Your voice loses its irritation, face softening as you can see the frustration on Adam’s face. Granted your irritation was because you were worried about him but you didn’t need to give him the attitude.

Your partner lets out a slight huff, “Okay, Y/N, yeah, I can do that. Sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry, man. I know it’s not a great situation, I’d be pissed off too.”

Adam hums in acknowledgement, letting you wander back toward the display unit. It takes you a second to get your stance right, putting your weight into the side of the heavy wood as you push. Your boots crunch bits of concrete and gravel underfoot as you force the unit to one side with a noise of upheaval, revealing a blue door, metallic and rusting - the stench of death was stronger now.

-

End of Part 1 of /?

tags: @resanoona - @elius-learns-to-write - @dumb-fawkin-bitch