#and i’m not even living in the city where its definitely worse!!!

[sofiaruelle]

❄️☃️The SDV Girlies in their winter garb!☃️❄️

One side how i interpreted their lil avatars and then the other side is just me playing dress up lmao.

“Bois when?” Dunno. 🤷🏽‍♀️ I will if anyone donates screenshots.

[iheartmapi]

Vicious

Alexia Putellas x Reader

Summary: After Spain’s match against Germany, Alexia injuries her knee. Having to take a health break from playing irritates her, Y/n tries to cheer her girlfriend up to no avail, they fight and Alexia leaves…she’s gone for a long time so you go looking for her.

Angst with happy ending.

TW: crude language, degrading language about oneself, ACL injury

Word count: 1,691

The sun was setting slowly behind the city landscape, the warm tones slowly turning into various shades of violet and dark blue almost reminded you of the way Alexia’s mood drastically changed after her ACL injury.

You stood in the kitchen of your shared house, occasionally looking behind you to see your moody girlfriend sitting on the couch in the living room, her injured leg perched up on a small stool, you were making some tea, the electric kettle buzzing, two cups were on the counter, for Alexia’s tea you had went with a blend of chamomile and lavender, it was advertised as “calming” and that’s one thing she definitely wanted right now.

As the kettle got done with heating the water up you swiftly poured it into the cups. You carefully put them on the coffee table and finally sat down next to your girlfriend. The silence went on for maybe like two minutes..during the few past days it felt as if you were walking on eggshells around her, you turned your head to look at her and smiled even though she wasn’t even glancing in your direction, only looking into emptiness with her brows furrowed and arms crossed almost like a small child that didn’t get its candy. “Hey, don’t worry so much I’m sure you’ll heal quickly, why don’t you drink some tea-“ You were about to finish your sentence but Alexia opted to cut it short “I don’t want tea right now” Well that was rude…but you shouldn’t be so hard on her, after all you knew how difficult dealing with this injury was for her, so you kept on trying, trying to cheer her up. “Oh…well how about we see what they’re playing on the TV? We can always watch some show or movie or anything really-“ Alexia sat up straighter, irritation clear in her eyes “Can you quit it with the tea and TV? Or better, just quit trying to cheer me up, it’s annoying” she barked at you, “Alright, Jesus…sorry for wanting to be nice” you answered calmly but it was evident that you were offended and perhaps getting annoyed with how unapproachable she was being lately.

“”Nice”? For fucks sake Y/n! Do you see my leg? I’m useless, and I’m supposed to be a ball of sunshine just because you want it?!” She waved her hands around like a maniac “But why would I expect you to get it” she scoffed, you turned to look at her again your eyes narrowing “Seriously? Am I some subtype then or something?“ Alexia looked away, running away from your gaze that was demanding an explanation “I didn’t say that” she answered more quietly now “You kind of did though” you argued, “Oh my god can’t I just live in peace for one goddamn minute?! Here you go again, making a problem out of nothing, it’s like this every time something isn’t in tip top shape…it’s tiring Y/n, I swear you’re so difficult for no reason” that kind of hurt, you were appalled by her outburst “It’s not my fault, don’t you think it’s hard for me as well? Especially when-“ You bit your tongue before you could finish that sentence, maybe it was true and you were really making a problem out of nothing..but you had your emotions too, and Alexia shouldn’t be expecting you to be fine every time she gets enraged like this.

“Especially when what?” She repeated your words, her tone sharp, you took a breath not wanting to answer that, “Especially when what Y/n!” She said once again, this time nearly yelling, “Especially when you’re such a vicious bitch everytime you’re mad!” Quietness fell upon the both of you, before Alexia suddenly got up from the couch, slowly though as to not make her leg worse..but even for her it was clear how hasty she was trying to be with her moves.

“Where are you going?” Your eyes were trying to run after her, she waddled towards the front door “Doesn’t matter” she fumed, you didn’t follow her at first, but as you heard the sound of jingling keys you stood up as well and rushed to the front door, surely Alexia was leaving.

“Alexia?” Confusion crossed your face, and then worry and regret for your earlier words “Alexia come on! I’m sorry I didn’t mean it!” She didn’t answer your pleas, and just left…you sighed as the door closed.

She was a grown woman, you couldn’t just stop her from leaving the house if she wanted to..you sulked onto the carpet beneath you, hands covering your face, why the hell did you say that? You were definitely too rough on her..but at the same time what were you supposed to do? There was nothing you could do now, you were just going to wait for her to come back home, after all she couldn’t be out for too long, especially with a leg like that.

So here you were now, sipping on your tea as you sat and welled in your own sadness, eyes glancing at the empty cup on the coffee table that was supposed to be Alexia’s..It’s been probably three hours now, and there were no signs of life from Alexia, you picked up your phone; the lack of messages or missed calls from your girlfriend was no surprise to you, you picked your best friends number, Mapi, you had to talk to someone when there was no one in this empty house filled with bitter tension.

“¡Hola, tía!” Mapi’s voice echoed from the other side, “Hey” you answered, a small smile on your face, which was heard in your tone but the overwhelming sadness took it over, Mapi could easily recognise that, “Is everything alright? You sound very down in the dumps” you weren’t sure how to answer, eventually you just sighed and told Mapi about what happened earlier with Alexia.

“And then…she just left the house, it’s been three hours I’m starting to worry, I mean- what if she like fell down and hurt herself even more or something?” You said “You know how she can be, I’m sure she’s fine, she can’t stay mad at you forever Y’know?…especially not you” Mapi said with her cheery voice “I have to go and look for her” you answered seriously “Have you seen her? Do you know where she can be?” You then added, looking for any kind of answer for someone in reasonable humour “Nah…sorry, just be careful ok?” The girl attested “Yeah..I promise I’ll be” the two of you said your goodbye’s and you hanged up..you grouched, trying to think of ANY place Alexia could be right now.

Then one thought came rushing to you like an arrow, what about a specific football pitch she always went to after lost matches? You figured; if she was gone for so long, and you didn’t know where she was then it wouldn’t hurt to drive there and see for yourself.

You literally bolted to your car, and just drove…fifteen minutes passed and you arrived at the spot, the football pitch was set in the outskirts of the town, here it was quiet for a change, the sky was now dark since so much time has passed…as you looked around the place you could understand why this place brought a sense of comfort to Alexia.

Through the tall fence you noticed a figure sulking on one of the benches, as you entered the pitch, it became apparent to you that it was Alexia..thank god you thought first, at least you knew she was safe.

You sauntered over to the bench, the melancholy, regret and anger all mixed together into one confusing combination hanging in the air.

The two of you didn’t say anything for now, instead you just sat yourself next to her on the bench, once again Alexia’s gaze was far and blurry she was just simply staring nowhere. “Alexia…” you kept it quiet not wanting to cause any more arguments today. Finally, your girlfriend looked at you with something else than annoyance and silent resentment.

“Please, let’s go back home” you asked half-whispering, her chest rose as she took a deep breath, it’s like she wanted to but didn’t at the same time, maybe going straight to the point wasn’t the first option, there we’re definitely some things the two of you needed to say to each other. “I’m sorry…I know it’s hard, I know how useless you must feel right now..I really just wanted to make you happy, I hate seeing you like that..that- that I’m just willing to try anything to make it better” you started, Alexia turned to you at once her eyes almost glassy “I’m..I’m sorry too Y/n I just don’t know what came over me..I guess the irritation took over me, I shouldn’t have taken it out on you” she answered “I don’t know why I did that, but I just…I don’t know, it’s my whole life, and now with this stupid knee I’m just stuck home, and I just feel like I’ve got no other purpose” she almost teared up, you wrapped your arms around her, pulling her into an embrace “Alexia…you know that’s not true” you whispered “Injuries happen, you’ll get back to playing in no time I’m sure” you added, a quiet sob was heard, it was unlike her to be so vulnerable…but you appreciated that she was able to show that side of herself with you.

Pulling away, you placed a kiss on her temple, “You’re right, let’s go back home” she said wiping the traces left behind by some tears with her sleeve.

You got up and offered her your arm, she took it and the two of you slowly made your way towards the exit of the pitch.

“I’m sorry I called you a vicious bitch”

“No, don’t apologize, you were right then…I guess I was a bit of a bitch” she smiled

“I’m sorry for calling you annoying” she then added more seriously

“You were being honest then too” you grinned as well and the two of you chuckled.

“I guess we’re a good match together”

(Thanks to @kshvue099)

[alwaysthefool]

Fairytale (X Sylus) Philos AU

tags: ANGST no comfort, gothic, demons, GN Reader, MC Reader

warnings: spoilers for his myth i guess, character death

synopsis: In your darkest hour, you turn to the devil for your freedom, and he takes your hand in marriage in return.

-x-

You snuck out to go to the wishing well on a new moon night, as the legends read, to ask for freedom from your last remaining option, the fabled devil living inside it.

“I have never felt worse in my life.” You sat beside the well that dried up thousands of years ago, like everything else in Philos. “I wish for it to end.”

As expected, nothing changed, but you could not help your tears as they flowed down your face and into the stone structure. “Anyone, please.” You cried.

“And what might you offer in return?” A bellowing voice answered from its depths. A figure emerged, cloaked in red mist and a darkness more wicked than the moonless night. Despite it, the faint light of your lantern helped you discern his features. Yes, you thought, this is most certainly the demon.

“I have gold.” You extended, reaching for the stolen pouch tied to you.

“Enticing.” He mused, prowling around to crouch down next to you. “And what is it that troubles you, human?”

“My engagement to the town official.” You spoke desperately. “I don’t want it, please. I want to live my live freely.”

Something seemed to change in the glowy-eyed demon’s expression as he grabbed you by the waist, dragging you down to the well.

“What are you doing?!” You screamed, clinging on to him tightly. Your masters would have called you shameless for that, and perhaps that alone was enough for you to be condemned to hell.

“Granting your wish.” The demon replied, shifting to hold you with both arms as he flew to a whole new world underneath the well.

“This is improper!” You protested, though not letting go. “You are a stranger, and I am unmarried.”

“Stranger?” The white haired demon chuckled, gazing at you as he landed on ground. You seemed to be outside a manor in an area you had never seen before. Looking at the distance, a road led to the town market so it definitely wasn’t ‘underground’, just secluded. “I fully intend to marry you.”

You tore your eyes away from the faint buildings of the market to the well-built demon, who just looked like an ordinary person, in front of you. He was serious.

“But I was promised freedom.”

“It won’t affect you.” He mused, guiding you inside the manor. “You will still be allowed to do what you want, go where you want, but I shall be your husband from this day until our last. You can imagine it to be for simplicity’s sake.”

You thought it over, as an attendant took your coat from you. Yes, it would be easier to explain. “But I don’t even know your name.”

The ‘man’ smiled, bittersweet and looking in the distance, as if remembering a fond memory. He crouched down to face you and reach your height, his handsome features heating up your cheeks. He pushed a lock of your hair behind your ear.

“I’m Sylus.”

The next few days passed smoothly. You were assured your freedom, and the demon named Sylus did not bother you, rarely even making an appearance. The deal did seem suspicious, but you preferred anything over your life before.

The attendants would not answer your queries but from what you could gather, Sylus hardly terrorised civilians, preferring to keep his distance from the town in caution of the demon vanquishers. The townsfolk too, did not know that the devil under the well was actually the enigmatic merchant that lived on the outskirts of the city.

“[Name]!” A shopkeeper selling hair pins recognised you. You walked over to greet him, but he seemed to have a pensive expression on his face. “Where have you been? What of your marriage to the official?”

“Oh…” You trailed off. “I’m married to someone else now, a merchant from afar.” You realised how handy that lie came to be. You never had an official marriage ceremony with the devil, nothing to ‘seal the deal’, but he’d given you a ring nonetheless, embedded with rubies on a crow engraving, which you could show as evidence.

The shopkeeper still gave you a judgmental look, refusing to speak to you any further. And the next day, as the gossip spread, the entire town avoided you. The rumour was that you had run away with a fiend a day before your marriage, tricking the official who loved you dearly.

Well, the rumour wasn’t untrue.

You did not go out after that, shutting yourself up in the castle. Freedom must not have been fated for you, you thought, crying near a windowsill at night.

You missed your old life, the animals, the plants, and anyone who’d speak to you. Now you stayed alone in the house, realising the price of that deal was more than what you thought you had bargained for.

A knock on the door broke you out of your thoughts. It was one of the masked guards, telling you that Sylus had requested your presence in his room.

You wiped away your tears, following him to a room you had never been in before. There sat Sylus, looking tense behind a desk.

Did I cause a problem again? You thought, hesitantly standing near the other side of the desk, as the guard left.

“Have I been cruel to you?” He asked, his chin on his hand. You shook your head in response, hesitant.

“Is the food not to your liking?” He looked at you, examining your features, and looked away again. You shook your head again, scared of what he was insinuating.

“Then, sweet thing, why have you been crying?”

His voice was gentle like you had never heard before. He stretched his hand out, gesturing for you to come hold it. You walked over to him and did.

It was warm, or rather, your hand was cold.

“You haven’t been eating either.”

You did not respond to that, not very sure how to. Sylus pulled you closer, and you sat on his lap, shameless. Shameless.

Shameless. The townspeople’s jeers echoed in your head. You ignored them by resting your head on his shoulder, as he locked you in his arms securely. You did not understand why you did that, but it had been so long since you felt the warmth of another person. And Sylus felt strangely familiar.

“I feel lonely.” You confessed, breathing in his smoky scent. “You are never here, the townfolk hate me, and the attendants won’t tell me anything.”

Sylus patted your back, perhaps trying to soothe you.

“Then, would you like it if I spend more time with you?”

“Why would I not?” You held his large hand, tracing the callouses. “You are my husband, after all.” Your cheeks heated up saying that, but it was met with only a soft laugh.

“That I am. That I will always be. It’s just different this time. You have come to me this time.”

His words confused you, but also made sense as you drifted off to sleep in his arms, dreaming of being with him in other lives, in a past and a future. Those dreams seemed to last forever, until you finally woke up in an unfamiliar bed. You looked around to find Sylus sleeping on a mat on the floor, his torso uncovered.

Without a second thought, you went to him, wriggling your way into his arms as he instinctively held you closer.

“My beautiful beloved.” He whispered.

“My dear dragon.” You replied, not sure where the word came from, too sleepy to care.

As the days passed, you fell more and more in love with him, not leaving his side for even a second until you fell sick, started sleeping more, and felt unable to walk.

Sylus seemed to know exactly what was ailing you, deciding to travel to a faraway town to get the cure. You begged him to let you go with him but it was too dangerous, especially since you hadn’t been well.

“I will be back soon.” He kissed your forehead, holding you steady as you insisted to see him off despite your condition. Silent tears fell from your face as he left, the loneliness returning again.

You waited for him at the foot of the manor’s door, often falling asleep outside. The attendants, which you came to know were enchanted puppets, would carry you inside each time. You only had to command them not to for them to stop doing that.

Your condition seemed to worsen all of a sudden as you waited throughout the winter, becoming completely bedridden.

“When will he be back?” You asked the new moon that once granted you your wish. “I won’t make it. I just want him back.”

You wanted to see him once before your heart gave out, so you took a concoction to give you temporary strength, setting out to look for him through the town. Frantically, you asked around, and the people avoided you looking at your condition.

“This is the one that eloped with the devil!” The authoritative voice of the town official yelled. “They have brought a disease into our town!”

You coughed, trying to explain yourself, but collapsing as the potion’s effects wore off. Nobody helped you, and the people pushed your struggling body away with sticks, afraid of catching whatever sickness you harboured.

Of course, the town official too, had to have his revenge for what you did.

You only asked for Sylus, breathing your last breaths, unsure whether you were dying from the sickness or injury.

The last sound you ever heard was the flapping of wings, and a gentle touch, which you held on to with your remaining might.

Nobody knows how the town burned down, the remains of its inhabitants only ashes and charred bones. Some believe it was an eruption from the earth, while others a curse from the sky. Whatever it was, only the heavens knew everyone had paid the price for their sins.

-x-

It’s an AU. Hehe.

[ierofrnkk]

Many Moons Are Deep at Play

werewolf!Steven x reader (~3.1K)

Summary: Ever since you and Steven were attacked on the last night of your camping trip, he’s been different. Six months after the fact, you learn exactly how different he’s become.

Content: 18+, gn!reader, the other MK boys aren’t around (sorry), body horror, graphic description of a werewolf transformation, Steven is a werewolf, he’s in pain for like 400 words sorry, overuse of italics

a/n: does this count for monsterfucktober? who cares. the title is from ‘dark necessities’ by rhcp!

-

It’s been exactly six months, eight days, and fifteen hours since you and Steven barely made it back alive from that camping trip.

It was your idea; you suggested that this was the perfect time of year to go camping—the weather was incredible and honestly, the two of you needed a break from the city, even for a few days.

What a mistake that would turn out to be.

—

The first few days were great; the spot you two had picked to camp out was perfect, there was nobody around to bother the two of you—it was great.

The last night was when things went terribly, awfully wrong.

You and Steven had put out the fire for the night and were preparing for bed when you heard it. At first, you both thought it could’ve been a bear or perhaps a neighboring camper’s dog that had gotten loose, but you very quickly—and too late—realized that it was something much, much worse.

The beast had lunged at the two of you from beyond the clearing, cloaked in darkness beside the taunting, hopeful glow of the full moon. You two barely had time to react—you managed to just get knocked back by the sheer force of such a creature, but Steven was less lucky.

The thing had gotten the best of him, but only for a second before being startled and running off. It still left its mark on him—a nasty scratch that ran from the top of his shoulder down near the middle of his chest.

You both are lucky to have made it out of there with your lives—thankfully, Steven’s injury was no more than a flesh wound, and healed with little scarring. When law enforcement arrived at your aid, you had been told that there had been sightings of wolves in the area, and were told that this was just a ‘freak accident’ and that you two were ‘not in any more danger’.

It was a difficult few months after that; poor Steven, as skittish and anxious as he already had been, was a total mess after the incident. He was grateful to have you around, though, and you helped him to return to some sense of normalcy.

Things have been generally pretty normal, but once a month, Steven is…different.

It’s like for a few days, he’s less like himself—he’s more reckless, clingier, like he can’t tear himself away from you even for a second. He’s abandoned his veganism, too, which you’ve found most strange.

He’d given you some rushed, stilted response; something about how he’d gotten tired of tofu scrambles and veggie wraps. It was very unlike Steven, but he’d been through a lot, so you’d forgiven it.

There’s a lot more steak in your fridge than you thought you’d ever have.

One day a month, though, he goes away overnight—tells you that some of his mates invite him over to have dinner and play some games, and you let him. He never tells you which friends he’s with, or where he goes.

A part of you thinks he’s lying.

He comes back all disheveled the morning after, a bit worse for wear, but he always insists that it’s just because he and the boys got a little wild the previous night.

It all doesn’t add up. You figure he’s just going through some kind of crisis in the aftermath of such a horrific attack.

But after months of this same routine, you’re fed up—it’s been too long of him lying and dancing around questions, skirting away from giving you any sort of solid, definitive answer.

“I’m coming with you tonight,” you tell him as the two of you sit on the couch together, spending time before he vanishes overnight.

He looks at you like he’s seen a ghost.

“No! No, you—love, it’s not—there’s nothing for you to worry about. Promise.”

You’re not convinced.

“I am worried, and I’m going to come with you. I don’t care what your friends say.”

He’s flustered now, nervous and looking like he’s trying to find an escape route to get out of this conversation. A part of you feels guilty for pressing him like this, but you need to know.

After what feels like an eternity of Steven struggling to find the right words to say, give some decent response to what you’re suggesting, he speaks up, voice soft.

“You can’t come with me, love.”

You make a face. You never knew Steven to be so insistent that you stay away from him, even if it’s overnight. So, you give him an ultimatum.

“Fine. If I can’t come with you, then stay home.”

He makes it seem as if that’s the worse option of the two, but he knows that you’ve got him backed into a corner. Either let you come with him, or stay at home.

That seems to have gotten through to him, and he nods, resigned. It was inevitable that you found out, and he knows that he’s damned no matter what he chooses.

“I’ll stay home, but we have to talk about this, yeah?”

You nod right away. Finally, you’re getting somewhere with him, so you’ll take whatever you can get.

He shifts in his seat beside you, suddenly feeling awkward and much more nervous about having such a conversation, but he eventually speaks up.

“After what happened to us a few months ago, I’ve been…different.”

No shit, you think. He continues, fidgeting.

“At first, I didn’t know what was wrong with me, I thought I’d just gone mental, yeah? But I didn’t. Something, er, worse happened.”

Your brows knit together in confusion, and you’re immediately able to tell that he’s stalling. Playing with his words and trying to put off this inevitable confession. You need him to tell you.

“Steven, just tell me.” You interject, tone a bit more firm than it usually is.

He tenses, and immediately blurts out the confession like the words burned in his throat.

“I’mawerewolf.”

What?

The words were rushed, all jumbled together but it was so obvious what he’d just said. You can’t believe it.

“Say again?” You ask, desperate for clarification.

His face is flushed red with embarrassment, and he can’t meet your gaze anymore—he’s awful at this, but he eventually gathers the nerve to repeat himself.

“I’m a…werewolf,” he cringes at the word, hating the way it sounds from his mouth. To further elaborate, he gestures vaguely in the direction of the window, where the sun has set and tonight’s full moon has begun to rise.

“You know; full moon, lycanthropy and all.” He makes a sad, awkward little howl noise, probably in some attempt to be funny or lighten the mood.

You stare at him, dumbfounded.

Unfortunately, it all makes too much sense.

The “wolf” attack, the disappearances once a month, the sudden change in his appetite.

Steven’s a werewolf.

The glow of the moon through the window is suddenly much less comforting. You realize he doesn’t have a lot of time before he’s unrecognizable.

“I go out to the woods every month,” he starts again after a beat of silence.

“I don’t want to hurt anybody. Don’t want to hurt you.”

You feel the guilt burn in your throat—that’s why he’s been so flighty, hiding away from you every month.

You don’t even have anything to say. What can you say to something like that?

You aren’t given much time to dwell on your thoughts before Steven doubles over in pain before you, and immediately all of your senses go on high alert.

“Oh fuck, Steven, are you okay?”

It’s a stupid question. Obviously, he isn’t.

You wish there was something you could do, but you don’t exactly know the protocol for what to do when your boyfriend starts turning into a werewolf.

“Fine! Fine, just—ah-“ he grimaces in pain, arms wrapped tightly around his middle.

You give him as much time as he needs, and he manages to get a few words out through his pain.

“Put away anything fragile—ah, fuck—please. I can’t-“ he doesn’t finish his thought, dropping to his knees from where he’d sat on the couch, and your heart aches for him.

After a few seconds of standing dumbly in place, you move with nervous speed, grabbing anything immediately fragile—glassware, the framed photo of the two of you in Cairo, anything breakable—and toss it all onto your bed, before shutting and locking the door.

By the time you return, Steven’s gotten rid of his clothes, and it’s the least of your concerns.

“I don’t want you in here when I—“ he cries out in pain, and your heart aches for him.

He doesn’t want you in the room with him when he turns.

You nod unsteadily, trying to wrap your head around this situation. An hour ago you figured that he might’ve been hiding something from you, but you never had thought that it’d be something like this.

Even though he’s warned you, you can’t take your eyes away from him.

The first thing that changes are his hands; his nails elongate into what you can only describe as claws—sharp and deadly.

You keep a safe distance.

With a pained shout, he arches back, and you bear witness to the grotesque sight—and sound—of his breastbone and ribcage cracking and stretching, expanding his chest to better accommodate the anatomy of a wolf.

It’s killing you to see Steven—your Steven—hurting and knowing there’s nothing you can do about it.

His canines stretch and sharpen into points. You back away from the living room.

You watch as he falls forward, leaning on his hands and knees; his back arches, his spine cracking and popping as his entire form is rearranged.

The sounds of his bones and joints cracking and shifting are awful enough on their own, but combined with the sound of Steven’s cries and shouts in agony, it’s that much worse.

His joints are rearranging, moving and grinding against one another. It’s grotesque and horrible, and you can’t believe that this is what Steven goes through every month.

It’s awful, and it gets worse when you see the way his face distorts, his nose and his cheekbones cracking horribly as his face stretches into something more canine than human.

It doesn’t take long until he’s completely unrecognizable. A hound; a werewolf.

You stand a fair distance from the creature that used to be your boyfriend, watching as the beast paces around your living room, sniffling and snarling as it takes in its surroundings.

“Steven..” you murmur, and the beast turns in your direction.

You can see Steven’s eyes, deep and brown—and even as unrecognizable as he is in this state, you still know that this is your Steven.

Against your better judgment, you step closer, treading softly and praying that he remembers you.

The wolf’s ears flatten against his head, and it takes a cautious step backward. It—he—growls, something low in his throat. Not quite a threat, but a warning. You can’t tell if it’s out of anger or fear.

He looks like a wolf, but bigger. You don’t know if that scares or excites you.

Every alarm bell in the back of your mind is blaring, telling you to run, get out of there, but you can’t. Not when you know that the wolf in front of you was your boyfriend a handful of minutes ago.

Slowly and carefully, you lower to your knees—you vaguely remember a documentary you and Steven had watched about wolves, how if you approach them on their level, they’d be less inclined to attack you. They’d be less threatened.

The wolf steps forward cautiously, sniffing the air in front of you as it tries to determine if you’re a friend or its next meal. It takes another step forward, and you put your hand out—palm facing upward—in front of it.

Those deep brown eyes you recognize so fondly as Steven’s never leave yours as the wolf sniffs your palm, its nose nudging your fingers as it does its best to understand who you are.

You let out a breath you didn’t realize you’d been holding when it presses its nose against your hand, a large, warm tongue swiping across your fingers.

He remembers you.

“Steven,” you breathe, and he huffs in response.

You move your hand carefully across the wolf’s snout, brushing your fingers over the fur on the top of its head gently.

You’re petting your boyfriend like you would a dog at the shelter.

The wolf takes another step forward, and you can see more of Steven in its eyes; that care, the affection, it’s all still there, just expressed differently.

He’s a lot bigger up close, definitely larger than any dog you’d ever seen, and that’s more obvious when the muzzle of the dog (if you can even call it that) nudges against the side of your head, then under your jaw. You can hear the way he sniffs and huffs as he takes in your scent.

Your hand slides from the top of his head down behind his ears, and you’re able to feel how soft his fur is. It’s dark, dark brown, much like Steven’s own hair color.

My boyfriend’s a werewolf, you think. Yeah, no big deal. I can roll with this.

You scratch behind his ears briefly, before you let your hands trail across more of that soft fur. With every pass of your hands, you can feel the strong beat of his heart, the way his chest expands with every breath.

After he’s gotten a good idea of your scent, he nuzzles against you for a few more moments. You can’t deny that the feeling is nice, like subconsciously, you know that it’s him.

You continue to pet him, before he shifts, and lays across your lap, putting all of his weight on you.

It doesn’t surprise you at all that Steven’s werewolf form is as much of a cuddler as he is. He’s warm, impressively so, and you take the tranquility of this moment to truly process the way this evening has gone so far.

Steven’s a werewolf. That night six months ago when you were attacked, he’d gotten scratched by what you can only assume was another werewolf, and that was all it took.

You resume brushing your hand across his fur, wondering what happened in your life to bring you to this point—sitting on your living room floor while Steven’s oversized werewolf form lays across your legs like some big lap dog.

Most of the night passes the same way, with the wolf curled up as best as it can in your lap, until you move him off of you when your legs fall asleep. There’s no complaint, though, and he settles down on the floor right in front of you, going right back to sleep.

Much to your surprise, nothing was broken like he thought when he told you to hide away anything fragile, and the two of you end up falling asleep on the living room floor.

—

When you wake up the next morning, Steven’s back to himself. You take this time before he wakes up to take in the sight of him now, and mentally compare it to the way he looked last night.

You drag your hand lightly down his bare back, fingers tracing his spine, remembering the feel of his thick fur beneath your touch. He stirs, so you retract your hand, allowing him to wake up on his own.

He does, turning and stretching as he comes out of sleep, sitting up to get himself more awake.

Before things can get awkward, you grab the blanket that rests on the back of the couch, pulling it down to cover his lap, since his clothes lay in a haphazard pile on the other side of the room.

He turns to you, a sheepish grin on his face as he takes in the sight of you.

“Hiya, love,” he murmurs, voice soft and still thick with sleep.

“Sorry about…everything.” He gestures to himself, before letting his hand fall lamely back to his lap.

You shake your head, moving so that your head rests on his shoulder, now sitting beside him as the two of you wake up in the aftermath of an interesting and unexpected evening.

“It wasn’t as bad as you probably thought it’d be.”

Now it’s his turn to look at you, dumbfounded.

It’s only then that it dawns on you that he might not remember everything that happens when he’s turned, so you fill him in.

You recount the events of the previous night to him, from witnessing his transformation to the way his wolf had cuddled and nuzzled against you for most of the night until you fell asleep.

“Oh, uh, I didn’t—“ he shifts, keeping the blanket across his lap.

“—didn’t know that I’d been such a lap dog.”

He says the words sarcastically, in that self-deprecating tone that you always associate with Steven.

You take it in stride, chucking softly.

“Oh, yeah, total pooch,” you tease.

“We even played fetch at one point.”

He flushes a bright red, the color bleeding down his neck, and you swear you can hear the way that his heart rate skyrockets.

“Shut up.”

After a few beats, you speak up, voice a bit softer and more sincere.

“You go through that every month?”

He pauses, eyes falling to the blanket in his lap, hands fidgeting with the fabric. He nods, taking a slow breath.

“Not really a good way to spend the evening, is it?”

You both chuckle softly, taking this quiet morning to become accustomed to what very well might be a new routine for the two of you.

“You were pretty calm, all things considered.”

He hums, nuzzling against the side of your face as you speak. You can’t help but make the mental connection between the way he did that same gesture as a wolf last night.

“Maybe you should just stay here when you..y’know. Turn.”

You can feel him pause for a moment, thinking, but after a few seconds, he resumes his nuzzling against your jaw and neck.

“I don’t want to put that responsibility on you,” he murmurs, tone low.

You shrug, bringing a hand up to card gently through his curls. You remember the texture of his fur beneath your fingers.

“I didn’t mind it all too much. It’s not like you tore up the apartment or anything,” you gesture around, his lack of destruction apparent.

You can feel the way he grins shyly against your skin, and your hand continues to brush through his hair.

“Thank you,” he hums sleepily, breath warm against you as he speaks.

You’re definitely not opposed to one morning a month turning out this way.

tags: @winniethewife , @faretheeoscar , @silvernight-m

[bobbile-blog]

Not sure if anyone’s said this yet but now that we have Laterano events plural I’m fascinated by their (imo) very deliberate choice of protagonists, and there are almost a couple of layers of narrative going on there. I struggle a little figuring out how to get this into words but specifically I think they’re chosen to be people who can carry a narrative without contradicting the orthodox morals of the church. There’s a LOT of vaguely anti-authoritarian rambling below the cut so please kindly bear with me and my English major brain.

I can’t really start there though. One of the reasons this is so brain hurty is how deeply it’s woven into the storyline, so to start, I have to verbalize how Laterano and Arknights writing more generally is different from other, similar settings. Because like, I hear the words “morally negative church in a grimdark setting” and my brain immediately shuts off. Come on, that’s so far beyond low-hanging fruit, if you’ve seen any grimdark setting ever you know exactly what that looks like. And sure, it was fine the first two or three times you saw it, depending on your tolerance for that kinda thing, but it gets boring quick and even when it was new it was kinda uninteresting story-wise. “Religion is always fake because it inspires hope which means everyone who takes meaning from it is either a corrupt grifter or naive and misled” isn’t just edgy nonsense, it’s also basically useless as an actual critique. It tells you absolutely nothing except how to tune out a particular kind of story, and a story that tries to get you to hear less is doing its job wrong.

So, Arknights does something different. Instead of denying the premise of the church entirely, it actually takes it at its word. Laterano is, in almost every definition of the word, a paradise. It is basically unmatched in terms of actual quality of life, with its only competitors being the Durin cities and maybe Aegir, and is worlds apart from now much the rest of Terra sucks. More than that, though, the paradise is specifically tailored to the worldview of a religion with a strong central authority - when I say it takes it at its word, I mean the authoritarian bits too. Laterano is a city that lives in perfect order and peace because everyone follows the law perfectly and they all understand each other and never fight. Empathy is really important for this, as it allows for a believable amount of superhuman societal order. Laterano has very little crime, political drama, or quarrels in general. It’s the promises of a strict higher authority actually taken at face value: everyone follows the rules and that means they have effectively unfettered freedom, because they don’t want to break the rules and therefore they can do anything they want.

Laterano is specifically written to be a believable paradise in a setting that has none, so that when the story then turns around and criticizes that setting, it has significantly more weight. Even when the promises of paradise are taken at face value, there are still issues that cannot be addressed because the system is inherently flawed even in the imaginary scenario where it works. Even worse, the problems that poke holes in the imaginary perfect scenario are the same problems that they face in the real world, like “how do you deal with the interpretation of scriptures” and “hey there’s this racism thing I keep hearing about should we be worried about that or what”. Because of the way this imaginary perfect system works, we then look back on our real world in a new light and understand it a little better. It’s good critique.

Okay so how did we get here and what does this have to do with the protagonists? Well, this starts with Fiametta in Guide Ahead, because she’s a really weird protagonist. This is a cold take at this point but despite being the character on the front of the box, she has very little to actually do with the central conflict of the event. Most of the conflict is handled by Ezell first and Andoain second, and Fiametta mostly putters around putting holes in people until the finale where Andoain receives the answer he’s been looking for, he turns to explain it to the world, and he runs into the only person in the whole of Laterano who does not care about his motivations or his revelation. Her role, in other words, is to replace the climax of Andoain’s story with her own, and in doing so she makes it much harder to actually get a resolution and a meaning out of the story (this should not be taken as a criticism of her character, let me cook). Guide Ahead’s ending is hazy, with only small piecemeal resolutions to its conflicts, and for the longest time that was just the way the event was written and it stood on its own.

But now, Hortus de Escapismo is out and the monkey brain see patterns. Specifically, with the choice of protagonists. Because Executor is definitely different from Fiametta as a protagonist, but there’s one particularly important connection between the two, and that’s that as I mentioned in the beginning, they allow for stories don’t contradict orthodox morality. Fiametta we went over, as she’s uninterested in any of Andoain’s morality and just wants him dead. Executor, though, is purely focused on his mission and views the world through that lens. He only wants to achieve his objective, and while helping the needy is in line with the stated objectives of the church and he does do so when able, it’s secondary to his assigned task. He does change as he gets further into the story, and we’re not gonna ignore that, but we’ll be back to it later. What I mean is more that he is designed as a person who is able to lead a story that doesn’t contradict with the morals of Laterano. He sees the injustice and suffering around him, but that’s not his job, so he doesn’t need to solve it to have a complete story with a happy ending.

This is where it really gets complicated, so I apologize if I don’t explain this very well. I see this as us dealing with multiple layers of fiction: the events of the story, the perspective of the church, and our perspective as readers. Back to the first point - authoritarian institutions almost always use stories to sell people on their brand of order. Simple stories, simple enough that even calling them myths seems like overselling it a little, your “Saint George slays a dragon” kinda thing. This is the point of the second layer, the perspective of the church. I don’t really have an in-world justification for this layer - maybe you could make the argument that it has to do with Law’s perspective on things, but I don’t totally buy that - I think it’s more in a weird narrative transition space for people who don’t read very carefully. Regardless, Fiametta and Executor’s shared indifference to the questionable circumstances surrounding them is designed to let them tell a story to prop up the existing order. Their protagonist status and their missions are specifically constructed to allow them to ignore the suffering around them, and as such ignore the larger questions that might poke holes in the larger order. They’re both playing out the story of Saint George, where they go and find a bad guy and kill them and that’s all there is to it. The story is designed and told specifically for that “that’s all there is to it”.

But, as we said earlier, this is a good critique, and as such it intentionally undercuts this story with the third layer: what we actually see as readers. We are shown the suffering and the injustice, and then get to see our protagonists ignoring that to pursue their goals. This is what gives Guide Ahead’s ending its unique texture, which sets it apart from every other event with a vaguely unresolved ending. We have seen the actual issues with Laterano, and also watched our protagonist explicitly ignore them in favor of her own story. It’s unsatisfying in a way that only really makes sense to me if we as the readers have an understanding of intentional authorship. Whether it be Yvangelista XI or Law or The Actual Real Life Pope, there are issues here that we want to see a resolution to but people are choosing not to address them. Again, it’s good critique. Not only does it push the reader to unpack and understand the actual real-world technique, but it also helps blunt it. You have just seen a plot and protagonist ring uncharacteristically hollow. You then look around to see why that is, and you realize there are many things that should have been resolved that weren’t. The next time you see a story resolve with that same hollow-ness, you know where to look. Surprise! Harry Potter was propaganda the whole time. It’s okay, it was never good, you were just twelve.

I guess the last thing is where we go from here, because Executor’s story breaks this mold somewhat. In Hortus de Escapismo, he has to deal with a mission that isn’t actually bounded by his normal rules, and because of that he actually does have leeway to help the people around him. He starts as someone who is totally mission-focused, but by the end of the event he’s done a total 180 and is blocking Oren’s attack, which makes the mission harder but helps the non-mission-critical civilians of the monastery. He breaks from the rigid thinking of “kill the bad guy and that’s all there is do it”, and gives his attention to the people he isn’t supposed to see. I think this is an indication of the direction we’re going to be headed in the future with Laterano events. The events aren’t going to get better - they’re going to keep being just as morally murky and complicated as in the past - but the characters are going to get better at handling it, and when they do, they’re going to actually start to change things for the better.

Goddamn that was a lot of writing for 1 AM. I still have a. Lot of thoughts on this event with stuff like empathy and Lemuen and Federico being an autistic icon(my beloved) but I’m going to leave things there, I think, because if I write for any longer my phone is going to crash when I try to post this. Anyway if you actually made it to the end thanks for listening to me rambling and I hope that made sense. Cheers.

[sebastianmichaelisslander]

Any unpopular opinions/headcanons about shinigamis?

Lessgooo! I’d been waiting for this for a while!

Headcanons

• Not fully sure there’s a proper academy for Reapers, though that’s the case in a lot of fanon hcs and even the anime.

The Dispatch setup resembles a very typical one in the corporate world, though - newer Reapers are all assigned a mentor who they train under and who asses them for their capabilities in varying fields. According to this, they join a particular department and work under its head (e.g., collections, forensics, auditing, etc.).

• There are several different branches of the Dispatch spread out over major cities in England - and the same goes for branches in other countries. Headquarters will be either at the capital or in a major city (e.g, London).

• Though Reapers are all pretty much blind as bats without their glasses, younger ones would probably have it slightly better. Slightly.

• As for whether they would retain any memories of their past lives, it depends for me.

What would be worse than having memories of who or what was dear to them wiped to prevent them from straying would be remembering it all, but knowing they will not be able to return under any circumstances.

But as I’m uncertain about how to make sense of that, I’d say that I share my mutual @grimreaperauthority ‘s headcanon about their memories of their past lives being wiped and thus remaining mostly fuzzy. I’d say that’s the case, save for the day of their death or anything particularly defining which shaped or changed their beliefs, imho.

• Relationships between colleagues aren’t forbidden, but it’s expected that one adheres to decorum and keeps their liaisons under wraps. Especially if there’s a major power imbalance involved, because you’d be cooked.

Unpopular opinions

I’ll probably have several of you trying to break down my door with pitchforks and torches in hand, but here goes.

• I don’t see Eric as Scottish, lol.

I haven’t fully watched the musical so I don’t fully get where the whole headcanon about him came into being, but it’s not just that. I tried looking his last name up, and ‘Slingby’ isn’t even a real surname - closest thing is ‘Slingsby’, which is of English origin. ‘Knox’, however, is a Scottish surname, so make what you will of that. 😉 (Yes, I unapologetically write Ronnie as a Scotsman.)

• I do not ship Sascha with Ludger.

I always saw the former as a very young student figure of sorts to him, and not just because they appear rather young to me. I’ve never seen them as a couple given their interactions in the manga, and there’s also the fact that Sascha seems to be a literal teen.

Whilst Sascha’s age hasn’t been stated in canon and they could very well be an adult for all I know, which would be highly unlikely, them as a ship just isn’t for me. Ludger as their father/brother figure, though? That’s where it’s at.

• I’m mostly indifferent to Undertaker. I don’t know why, but I never paid him any special attention. Like, he do be kinda fit, but that’s about it.

• I don’t vibe with the fanon interpretation of Ronald as a player or fuckboy - and not only because I headcanon him as on the asexual spectrum. Even in the manga, he appears to be (quite a major) flirt at most - which can also be backed up by how he disappears.

• If Othello could talk to women, he’d be like a more toned-down Ronald when he’s interacting with them, but shyer too. But he can’t, lmao - he’s forgotten how to. Takes personal space and being respectful to them seriously, though.

Bi Othello is my fav headcanon for him. I can definitely see him with a woman as well as a man. And though he’s often absorbed in his work or Dispatch shenanigans and doesn’t think about girls (or guys) all that much, he definitely likes a pretty one as much as the next man.

• I don’t see William as a prick with all the emotional range of a teaspoon and little empathy whatsoever. Is he too harsh on himself and his subordinates? Yes. Can he be an asshole at times? Also yes.

But is he a terrible person with no redeeming qualities whatsoever and a rock in his chest where a heart would otherwise beat? No.

He seems like he’d be an overthinker and feel extremely strongly towards people and ideas both, but tries to suppress this as he thinks that he needs to. Not only to remain impartial for the sake of professionalism, but also because how men in general are socialised plus his tendency to withdraw when he’s overwhelmed mean it’s difficult to confront his emotions.

• I do not see Ludger as German William, but rather someone who’s similar to him yet incredibly different in a lot of ways. William is pensive, almost overly fastidious, and coldly professional. Meanwhile, Ludger is reserved, a tad rough around the edges, and focused - but he’s surprisingly patient and better with conflict than Will.

If I have more, that’ll call for another post!

[alairroux]

Creating plot holes is my favourite thing to do. Fixing them, oh well. Anyway, I hope you'll enjoy this chapter as well, it's a bit calmer than the last one.

Chapter IX

"Just a tool?"

She slowly got up from the pavement, dusting herself off, for the first time in weeks missing the mess in her head. Now it was strangely empty, almost quiet, and making her unable to come up with anything that’d explain what happened. Alice was just as confused as Wade and Logan, who were staring at her like vultures stare at a carcass. 

“Stop looking at me like that, I have no idea either. And being stared down like I just committed a federal level of crime isn’t helping at all.”

She hissed at them, before taking a deep breath. There were so many questions that she needed answers for, but didn’t even know where to start at this point. What exactly happened? Was it all an illusion? Was it real? Why is it spring again? The weird sense of deja vu was seeping into her whole body, she definitely lived through that day already. It was making her uneasy and almost nauseous. 

“It’s possible that you actually did that.”

Logan’s voice pulled her away from  her mind for a while. 

“Yeah doll, it was crazy, and definitely painful, never do that again if possible, hated every second of it. BUT most importantly, how did you even do that? I’m used to your migraine trick but this? You destroyed half a city and then suddenly put it all back while changing a season.” 

Wade like always was quite a chatterbox about what just happened, but this time it did nothing to actually make her feel better. If anything, she was only feeling worse about it all happening in the first place. 

“I’d love to know as well. I remember being in pain and then all of that happening. The only positive outcome is that my head is completely quiet, I haven’t had that for years now.”

She sighed again, sinking deeper into the hoodie as the cold air reached her. It was all so unpleasant and weird that she didn’t want to be here anymore. She reached for her phone, why? Why not? Her heart sank a bit deeper as she saw the date. They were back by two and a half years. Cold shiver ran down her spine as she showed it to Wade and Logan. Whatever happened, took them back in time by quite a lot. She felt dizzy, catching onto Wade’s shirt sleeve. What did she do? Was it really her doing? Did she just pull back the timeline by so much? But was it ever possible? 

“I think we should go home, I doubt talking about it all here is safe.”

Right. TVA probably had her as a target already, but staying in the open was making her way easier to get caught by them, maybe even hurt. Better to stay down until they’ll come up with any way to explain all this or to understand it. 

“Good question if we still have a home. It’s been two and a half years. We didn’t even know each other then.”

Shit. Logan was right again. Why did he have to be right? There was always an option of going back to Althea, but it seems that at the time line they popped at Deadpool and Wolverine weren’t a duo yet as well. Explaining all that might be way more difficult than it seems. Alice bit the inside of her cheek, feeling the small bit of flesh pull from it, leaving uneven texture. 

“Doesn’t hurt to check. If not… We’ll figure something out from there. For now, let’s just check.”

Her voice was still shaky. It all was so much and so confusing at the same time, she’d take the voices over that at any given moment. It would’ve been much safer for the whole city probably. 

For now, they decided to just go back to the apartment, in hopes of it being still the same, unchanged, still theirs somehow. Because there has to be a way for that, right? After all, she just manipulated time somehow, and that was meant to be impossible without certain machines from what she learned up until now. It seems that the world and its rules change every now and then, but they just forget to notify anyone, and this is the outcome. Back in the past. She was walking the fastest out of their trio, probably scared the most about it all like that, or maybe the least alerted against TVA, after all, Wolverine shouldn’t be there as well. They haven’t saved this world yet, he was still the worst Wolverine that was ever there, at least in the eyes of many, many other people. Ugh it was all so confusing. She crossed the streets without watching out for cars or other people, there was no time to care for others as she might’ve just ended her whole world. Or have given the opportunity of it getting destroyed once more. Unless it didn’t affect anything else but the destroyed part of the city. Then the future stays known to some, the same, untouched, Cassandra still dead and no danger in sight. That would’ve been perfect. Why was she thinking about Cassandra again? Fuck, even dead this woman was in her mind all this damn time, it was getting so annoying. 

Finally she reached the right street, entering the building with the same code as always, at least that one worked, but maybe it wasn't changed between the owners? Better to not get her hopes too high up in all that. She patted her pockets for the keys only to remember she left while in quite not fit state to remember about anything but the urge to leave. She reached the door and gently pushed on the handle, the door opening. Now it’s going to be awkward if anyone lives here instead of them. Alice cursed under her breath, taking a step inside, but it looked just like it always did. There were even their jackets in the hallway. She walked deeper in. The living room, the balcony, everything looking the same as always, it was their home. The only thing lacking was Merry Puppins that was nowhere to be seen, her bowls also gone. Looks like whatever it was, affected people and animals but not things? Oh it was getting even more confusing. She sat down in the living room, waiting for Logan and Wade to get there, anyone to remember as much as her, so she wouldn’t drown alone. 

Soon, they entered as well, seeing the open door, just like her seconds ago, they did a little investigation, both really upset about the dog being nowhere to be found. No wonder, they all grew attached to her disgusting but oh so lovely muzzle. Alice looked at them when they sat down as well, the atmosphere was heavy and her guild was only thickening it all. Maybe her parents were right and she was nothing but a monster? After all, all this destruction happened because of her. Or did it really? She was unsure. Deeply. 

“Any ideas about what you have done, and how you’ve done it?”

“No. Not this time. I don’t know how it happened. But we’re alright, so maybe it’s okay, I mean we just have to somehow get to the Void and convince Nicepool to give us Marry back and snatch Laura with us and everything will be just like it w- Ugh, who am I trying to fool? Nothing is okay and I have no idea what happend. I just wanted to fix all that damage, I was thinking about the last memory I haad of that street and then it happened.” 

She sighed, hiding her face in her hands. The silence that fell on them was making her even worse about herself and about what she had done. How were they supposed to get Dogpool and Laura back? There���s no promise of them being in the Void as well, maybe she just erased them completely by accident? Hopefully not, or she’d probably really take a swan dive from the nearest skyscraper. 

The time is passing slowly when there’s a whole lot of painful silence filling the air instead of the usual loud and happy talks. But the evening eventually reached them, Wade fell asleep as he was complaining about being in more pain than usual as well, it was good for him that he could rest for a while. Logan was walking around, brows furrowed, clearly deeply in thoughts, but Alice refrained from looking into his mind. Not scared of what she’ll find, but of the possibility of the loud voices coming back and making her regret being alive again. Or causing more damage. There was definitely enough of it already. So she just sat there, trying to find answers in her own mind, but it seemed to work awfully slow this time. 

After it got already dark outside, she finally got up, walking over to the kitchen, to get herself something tasty to eat, a snack at least, after all it’s been over a day since she ate anything. Her stomach was painfully cramping over the air that filled it, making it hard to breathe sometimes. She opened the fridge, looking around the options, even though that didn’t change. Why wasn’t this place affected? Was it because it was outside the damage range? But then why wasn't Dogpool there anymore? It made no sense. Alice grabbed the yogurt and leaned with her back on the nearby cupboard, her mind trying to run fast ahead but held in place by some invisible power. How annoying again. That was when Logan approached her again, a little less angry, but there was something in his eyes that was making her unsure if she wanted to talk to him at all. 

“So you can manipulate time, huh?”

Oho, this definitely wasn’t good, she could tell that much already. 

“Looks like it. But I don’t know how. At least not yet.”

“How far do you think you can go? You know… With the rewind?” 

Oh no.  Oh no. She knew where this was going. That glint in his eyes, the sad undertone of his words. She knew what he wanted, and also deep down she knew she couldn't give it to him. Something was telling her that her limits were bound to her age. How was she supposed to go farther than she existed? Even if she could, wouldn’t that be a very stupid and dangerous idea. 

“I can’t bring them back, Logan?”

That look in his eyes turned into pure anger. For a while almost a bloodlust shining through that. He was still the same Wolverine after all, the one that murdered everything and everyone in sight out of pure anger. She had to get out of here. Quickly. But it was almost like he read her mind this time, locking her in by the cupboard, then grabbing the hoodie in his hands, balling his fists and lifting her a bit by it. That caused her to go into fight or flight, she was ready to fight back to get away. 

“Why not? You can use your stupid tricks just like that, but when for once you could be useful you just decide to refuse? Just like that? You’re so goddamn selfish that seeing you alive is sometimes the worst pain in my ass I can imagine. Always using it all for yourself, never even trying to help. A trash laying around has more purpose than you do!” 

He yelled straight to her face and Alice could’ve sworn she felt her blood boil at that point. 

“Selfish?! Trash!? You call me all that after I was the one to pay most of the bills and take you here so you wouldn’t have to live with Althea in her small flat?! You dare to call me all that when it’s YOU who didn’t save your friends?! Maybe if you wouldn’t be all focused on getting your sorry ass drunk, they would’ve lived or at least you would’ve die with them so I wouldn’t have to watch your fucking face every damn day!” 

Sure, she said too much, at the same time unknowingly inflicting a huge headache on him, making it barely bearable to stand, let alone think. That’s why he let go of her, and she immediately used this to just leave, run towards the door. 

“Run you little whore, that’s what you’re good at!”

He yelled after her, still clutching his aching head. Alice left, slamming the door behind herself, just running down the stairs and towards the cold streets. Anger bubbling in her chest, making her unable to slow down for now. Outside. The cold air hit her face, making her emotions slow down a bit, but still very raw and strong. She just started walking ahead, towards the metro station, maybe a change of scenery will help her a bit? But with every step and a blow of cold wind, she was slowing down a bit, soon tears filling her eyes. She didn’t mean all that, and was sure he didn’t as well. It was all because of anger, regret and fear. The big three of arguments. She started wiping off her tears, while still slowly walking ahead, trying to calm down fully. She stopped at the red light, only after a moment noticing how quiet it was around, it was almost unnatural, the sudden steps behind her making her jump, but before she could even react, and turn, she felt a dull hit to the back of her head, making her slowly fall into the darkness again, she tried to fight back, catching a glimpse of a black uniform, and the street in a blue light, the red one flicking green, but she wasn’t going to pass it anymore. Cold pavement not helping her stay awake, she slowly slipped into unconsciousness with a deep feeling that this won’t end well at all. 

[zuucc]

MORE THAN A VANVOUVER SUNSET: What if…

… Mat had given in?

Summary: What If Mat had given into Emma, that night in his car? What if he’d thrown his principles out the window and given into what they both wanted so badly? This story is a spin on what would’ve happened in Mat’s car that night after their trip to Sunset Beach - the trip that definitely was not a date - if Mat hadn’t been so stubborn, and so adamant about taking her on a date first.

Warnings: Smut, more cursing than actual sentences

Word Count: 3600 (including excerpt)

Author’s note: I wrote the first 50.000 words to More Than a Vancouver Sunset when I was supposed to be writing my bachelors thesis. That´s just about three years ago now, which is just mind blowing on its own. The fact that this story still spins through my head still, is maybe even worse? Anyways, I’ve got a week long exam and just like before, that makes me want to write everything but that. It´s not like MTAVS doesn’t have enough smut as it is, but banging my head against table has got me coming up with all kinds of shit. Needless to say - it’s spicy. I know I’m not really on here anymore, and for most people I’m just someone you’ll occasionally see on someone’s Mat Barzal, Tyson Jost or William Nylander fic rec list. I don’t even think half the people I used to talk to on here back then are still here, but I hope this finds someone who’s interested. And this could be read as a stand alone, you do not have to have read the 80k nightmare that is More Than a Vancouver Sunset to read this.

I hope you enjoy.

In cursive, you will find an extract from More Than a Vancouver Sunset, with what leads up to this story. If you haven’t read the full story - Mat has previously stated that Emma is not the kind of girl he’d just fuck, he would like to take her on a date first. He’s brought her to watch the sunset at the beach, but didn’t call it date out of fear. Though it really feels like a date to Emma and he did end up kissing her.

~

His hand started laced with hers, their fingers intertwined, resting in her lap as they began the drive back home. The conversation flowed freely, and it hit Mat square in the chest that though their lives had taken completely different paths after high school, they still shared many of the same experiences and they still had so much in common – hell they’d even ended up in the same city. Soon, his hand was gripping her thigh lightly and Emma’s own hand curled around his wrist, moving back and forth in a soothing manner. 

“I have to admit, my crush on you came back pretty quickly,” he hummed, looking over at her for a split second before he turned his attention back to the road ahead, causing Emma to laugh. 

“Yeah, a little faster than I’d like to admit,” she agreed, and Mat nodded along. He was pulling onto her street, but he didn’t want to let her go just yet. The digital clock on his dash had pushed past eleven and Emma’s parents’ house was dark when he pulled into the driveway. He turned the car off, already knowing that he wouldn’t just be saying goodbye and backing out again. He looked over at the beautiful girl sitting next to him, and she was already looking back at him. They both smiled, looking at each other for way too long before they both burst out in giggles. They’d talked non stop all the way back and now it seemed that they were both out of words. 

“Come here,” Mat chuckled, pulling her closer by her hand and meeting her halfway. They both smiled into the short kiss, their eyes meeting for a second before their lips did, though this time the kiss was loaded with all the sexual tension that had seemed to make the air thick all around them. Emma’s nose brushed against Mat’s before the kiss deepened, the open mouthed kiss sending warmth through both their bodies. While Emma slid her hands up his chest, Mat’s dropped to her thighs, his grip a bit tighter and moving a bit higher than where it had been on the way home. 

Mat hummed into the kiss when her hands slid back to his neck, her fingers instantly moving into his thick hair and curling into fists. Their tongues met in a slow slide against each other, sending a wave of want crashing between Emma’s thighs, as she moaned into the kiss – not even embarrassed at the sound, simply just wanting his lips on hers, or anywhere else on her body – that’d be fine too, and his hands roaming. Mat could feel his pants getting tighter with every kiss they shared and Emma seemed to get more impatient; little moans slipping past her lips, her fingers clenching in his hair, doing everything she could to press herself closer to him, only to be stopped by the center console. Mat reached for the little button on the side of his seat, taking his seat the last few inches back. 

“What are you doing?” Emma asked, not pulling far away, her lips still moving against his while she spoke. 

“Just come here,” he hummed, kissing her hard but quick as he placed one hand on the back of her thigh and the other sliding across her back to curl around her waist. He pulled her body closer to his before he simply lifted her over the center console with very little help and effort from Emma, letting her straddle his lap. That in itself had Emma grinding her hips down onto his immediately, making a groan escape his throat in unison with the moan she pressed against his mouth. 

“Fuck, Em,” Mat said, groaning into her kiss, his hands on her hips as she ground against him. The shortened version of her name falling from his lips along with his hardening member under her, hit her perfectly between her legs whenever she rolled her hips over his, and it was pushing her further along the road to desperation. His hands moved slowly up her sides as their lips slotted together, so slowly it nearly had Emma placing her hands on his to push them to where she wanted them most. He pulled away from her lips, his own glistening and swollen as he looked up at her with dark, lust-filled eyes. Emma looked back at him with the same look on her face, her lips parted as she tried to catch her breath. Her chest was rising and falling rapidly and Mat’s attention was caught, his hands finally covering her breasts. He kissed her deeply, but only for a few seconds before he started a trail down the side of her neck as Emma pushed her hair back out of the way for him. 

“Let me take you out on a date,” he spoke, his lips moving against the sensitive skin right beneath the line of her jaw. One of his arms wrapped around her waist while the other stayed on her boob, massaging it in his hand. Emma’s neck craned back to let him have as much space as possible, her hand fisted in his dark curls. 

“I thought this was a date,” She breathed, her body pressing against his, desperate to be with him – desperate to have him naked against her, desperate for him to be inside her. 

“No,” he said, shaking his head against her as he kept leaving kisses down her neck. Emma moaned as he found a particularly sensitive spot. She rolled her hips into his and she could feel him fully hard beneath her. She was sure the particularly nice thong she’d decided to wear was soaked through. 

“You don’t have to take me out first – before you fuck me,” she moaned, clenching her fist in his hair. The words falling from her mouth along with the pull of his hair had Mat groaning and pulling back from where he’d been leaving kisses on her skin.

“I’ll take you out – tomorrow,” he said, making Emma swallow hard. He really wasn’t going to fuck her tonight, and she didn’t know how to deal with the fire burning in the pit of her stomach. She pressed her forehead to his, closing her eyes. They were both breathing hard. 

“You have no idea what you’re doing to me,” she sighed, brushing her nose against his. Matt chuckled, kissing her lightly, but long enough to leave a tingle on her lips. 

“I’m sure you can feel what you’re doing to me,” he breathed, placing his hands on her hips and pushing her against him. A breathy moan fell from her lips, making a soft smile tug on his. 

“I’m so wet right now, I’ll probably leave a mark on your pants,” Emma told him, not even embarrassed about it. He was wearing a pair of dark green cargo pants that did wonders for both his ass and his thighs, so no, she wasn’t going to be embarrassed about leaving a mark on them. Not when he was making her feel like this. 

“You can’t just say that,” he groaned, letting his head fall back on the headrest. Emma smirked, trailing her fingers down his chest, towards his abs. Mat locked his gaze to her fingers, following them down his torso all the way until it slipped under his t-shirt. He looked up at her again as her hand flattened out over his abs. 

“And you can’t just look like this, and kiss me like that, and expect me to not be wet for you,” she dared, feeling brave and risky now. She was horny, and she’d practically begged for him to fuck her already, so she had nothing to lose. This time it was Mat who smirked.

“What made you decide to wear this dress tonight?” he asked, his smirk turning cocky as his hands moved from her hips to her thighs. Emma smiled, looking out the window for a second to compose herself. 

“I like the way it fits around my hips,” she grinned. He somehow managed to look even more smug than he already was with his fingers curling around the side of her thighs, pulling her just a little bit closer. 

“So, you did this on purpose?” he asked then, his hands moving back to her hips, but this time under her dress. His thumb rubbing back and forth on a spot right beneath one of the double bands on her thong, and then slipping under it just to tease. 

“I did – I even put on nice underwear for you,” she said. He could hear the hitch in her breath when he pulled his thumb away and let the band smack back on her skin. 

“You’re not even wearing a bra,” he smirked, having already figured that out when she climbed into the car hours ago now and he’d sure gotten it confirmed when he had his hands on her earlier, only feeling the thin material between his hands and her boobs. 

“Doesn’t mean I’m not wearing a nice pair of undies, though,” she smirked back, finding his smug expression faltering just a little bit. With his attention fully on her, Emma moved her hand out from under his shirt, finding the hem of her dress instead and lifting it just enough for him to see the white lace covering her most intimate part, and the two bands sitting high on her hips. 

“Fuck,” he muttered to himself, letting his hands fall back down to her thighs, his thumb sliding underneath the lacy fabric. He looked up to meet her stare, keeping eye contact as the finger slipped further down to where the material was actually soaked. Pushing the thong to the side, he let his finger slide through her slit, watching her as her mouth fell open and her eyes closed. 

“I thought you had to take me on a date first,” she breathed, letting her head fall to rest her forehead against his, her fingers finding their place in his hair again. 

“That was just before fucking you,” he smirked, though through his tone it was clear that he was nearly as affected as she was. Emma moaned as he slipped closer to her hole, almost falling against him. Their noses brushed against each other and their lips met just as he slid one long finger into her. The desperate moan vibrating against his lips sent blood rushing towards his dick, even if he’d been hard for a long time already and he could feel himself twitching in his pants. The moan that followed when he pressed another finger into her had him wondering what sounds she was going to make when he’d get to push his length into her. He would’ve fucked her right there in the front seat of his car if he hadn’t been so fucking stubborn. But there was the fact that he didn’t want to have sex with her for the first time in his car in her parents’ driveway. He wasn’t really much of a romantic, but he’d like to take his time with her – in a bed. 

“Fuck, Mat,” she groaned, her lips capturing his before she pushed her tongue against his. Oh, what she’d do to have his tongue between her legs right now. Mat loved the way she said his name, and he looked forward to hearing her moan it again as he placed his thumb on her clit and started rubbing circles. He started pumping his fingers in and out of her, her juices running down his fingers and making him want nothing more than to lick it all up. Her mouth fell open as he curled his fingers inside of her, her head falling back as a string of moans left her lips. 

“Just want to taste you, baby,” he mumbled as she gasped at the loss of his fingers, her eyes heavy as she followed them into his mouth, his lips locking around the two long fingers dripping with her arousal. The pet name sent another wave crashing through her body, and that, along with the sight of Mat licking her juices off his fingers, had her falling forward, her lips and tongue against his as soon as his fingers were pushing back inside her. The taste of herself mixed with what she learned was the taste of Mat, was something she could definitely get used to. 

“Oh my god,” she moaned against his lips, the feeling of his fingers deep inside her too much, yet far from enough all at the same time. She pulled away from his kiss and immediately reached for the straps of her dress that were tied in little bows on her shoulder, tugging at their ends and letting the front fall down to expose her bare chest.

“It’s too fucking hot in here,” she whined, flipping her hair over her shoulder. Mat’s lips hung slightly open, lips burning red and and glistening from kissing her. His eyes were dark and lustful, alternating between her face and her naked chest, her pink nipples begging him to touch them.

“You are unbelievable,” he mutters, more so to himself than to Emma. She grins, unsure if it’s her body or her persistence he’s referring to, but happy with herself either way. She grips his t-shirt in her fist and pulls him closer, pushing up on her knees in order to let him fit his mouth around her nipples. The moans erupting from her throat were so desperate that she’d normally be embarrassed, but she was desperate and she couldn’t care less in that moment.

“Fuck, Emma,” he cursed again. She’d started meeting him halfway as she fucked herself onto his fingers, meeting his knuckles as he thrusted the length of his fingers into her.

“You’re really making me do this, huh?” He asked, more so rethorically. His words were barely audible as he dragged his lips from one of her boobs to leave a trail of wet kisses up to her collarbones.

“What?” Emma breathed, too focused on the feeling that was filling her body and gathering into a big ball of pleasure in her lower stomach, begging to explode.

“You’re making me break my promise, baby,” he whispered, his lips having made their way up her neck, stopping right beneath her ear. He couldn’t take it anymore, he needed to be inside her. Never before had he wanted something so badly. Sure, he could make her come with his fingers, and she would be somewhat satisfied, but the way she was begging for him? It did things for his ego that he couldn’t really explain and he needed to give her what she wanted - what they both wanted. He’d never felt so wanted by anyone. And truthfully, it was starting to hurt with how incredibly hard she was making him.

“Fuck, really?” She nearly cried, gasping as he pulled his fingers out of her. His fingers were wet with her arousal, but neither of them cared when he placed both hands on her hips and pushed back on his thighs. He nodded to answer her question.

Emma hurried to get her hands on the waistband of his pants, opening the button and pulling down the zipper as fast as she could. Simultaneously, Mat slipped his thumbs into both his pants and his boxers, ready to pull them down as soon as she’d gotten them open. Emma cursed again as his erection finally sprung free and slapped against his abs - his t-shirt having ridden up ages ago.

“Fuck, Emma, come here,” he begged, reaching out to grab her hip to pull her closer with the one hand and finding the button on the side of his seat, reclining it in order to make the ordeal easier. It would’ve been easier to move to the backseat, or just sneak into Emma’s bedroom, but right now this just needed to happen as fast as possible. He needed to be inside her as fast as possible.

“Oh god,” Emma breathed as she maneuvered her legs in the tight space, watching him spit into his hand before wrapping it around his dick and lathering it up.

“Come,” he demanded, and Emma felt herself fall towards him. Her hands found his sturdy shoulders and she lifted herself up from his lap for him to finally line himself up with her opening.

“Fuck, Mat,” she sighed as he pulled her underwear aside and let his tip run through her slit. They both moaned in relief as she finally sunk down onto him.

“I just need you to know- fuck,” Mat started, but interrupted himself as she lifted herself off of him before quickly sinking back down. Emma wanted nothing more than to cover his lips with hers and just get lost in it, but it seemed like he needed to get something off his chest.

“I want you, in every single way,” he went on, stopping to breathe and curse to himself. His hands had found their way back to her, one hand on her hip and the other was gripping her ass, helping her keep a steady rhythm as she rode him.

“Not just like this. But god do I want this, too,” he managed to tell her. Emma’s lips spread into a wide smile, feeling full in every single sense of the word.

“Me too, Mat, me too,” she agreed, leaning her forehead to his and very willingly complying when he pressed his lips to hers. Everything that had happened between them up until then had happened fast, and so had this. But Emma knew it was right, even if it was absolutely terrifying at the same time. Emma’s fingers fisted into the thick locks of hair on the back of his head, and their tongues finally met. They made out desperately as their hips met repeatedly, Mat planting his feet into the floor of the car to be able to meet her hips every single time she came sinking down on him.

“I’m so close, Mat,” Emma sighed, adjusting her feet on the side of the seat to be able to up her speed.

“Me too, baby,” Mat agreed, letting his head fall back to watch her as she sat spread out on top of him, her chest glistening with sweat and her arousal having spread out on her inner thighs and Mat, too. One of her legs were extended over the middle console and into the passenger seat and that way Mat could see the way he was buried inside her, how he was covered in her juices. His thumb found its way to her clit and he watched her close her eyes in pleasure, her teeth clamping down on her bottom lip.

“Oh, god, now,” she cried, pushing herself forward to fall against him again. They’d never done this before, but somehow Mat knew what she meant. His arms wound around her, holding her close to him, as he thrusted up into her with all the power he had as she moaned and clawed herself to him - leaving marks on his shoulder as she finally came. He didn’t let go himself until he could hear her moans slowing down and coming to an end.

“Fuck, Mat, that was just… Wow,” Emma managed to say, still breathing heavily. She lifted her head from where she’d collapsed into his shoulder, a wide smile spreading on her lips when she pulled back and saw the one already on his lips.

“I know, I’m… I’m glad we did that,” he admitted, even though he had been so adamant on waiting til after he’d taken her on a date.

“Me too,” Emma laughed, relaxing into his lap again. The feeling of his softening dick inside her was warm and comfortable.

“To be fair, I really thought that was a date,” she grinned and Mat shook his head with an embarrassed smile on his lips. A blush crept up his already pink neck - Emma might not be able to see it with how hot they both were, but he could feel the blush settle on his neck and cheeks.

“It was supposed to be, but when I saw you this morning I just didn’t have the balls to call it that,” he admitted, his hands were running up and down the outside of her thighs as they spoke.

“You didn’t have to call it that, Mat. You didn’t have to say the word date for me to understand that the guy who’s been flirting with me for weeks and even told me that he wants to take me on a date and then fuck me, is asking me on a date when he’s asking me to come watch the fucking sunset at the beach. Like, I thought we’d established that I am quite smart a long time ago,” Emma laughed, and Mat had to cover his face with his hands as he laughed along. She was right, it definitely sounded like a date.

“So, if it makes you feel better, we can just say that it was a date,” she shrugged, smiling that gorgeous smile that Mat had been falling for every single time he’d seen her since he was assigned seats next to her in high school.

“Okay, fine. But I’m still taking you out tomorrow,” he grinned.

“I’m not gonna stop you,” Emma mirrored his smile, leaning forward to press her lips to his again.

“I meant it though, what I said about wanting everything, not just sex,” he reminded her, struggling to keep eye contact as he said it. It was important to him that she knew how he felt. She was more than just a one time thing.

“I know, Mat. Me too,” she said, kissing him once more.

“But I really do want the sex, too,” he smiled cheekily, making Emma throw her head back laughing.

“Me too,” she agreed, leaning in again for a deep kiss.

[chickensarentcheap]

In a Heartbeat- Chapter Five

Fandom: Extraction

PAIRING: TYLER RAKE AND ESME DRUMMOND (ESTABLISHED OFC)

SUMMARY:  Dhaka nearly ended everything before it even began.  In it’s aftermath and with Tyler’s life teetering on the threshold between life and death, Esme is about to realize just how strong she can be.  And that love happens when it happens. There’s no rules. No rhyme or reason. No timeline.  

Warnings: brief mention of sex toys and kinks (butt plugs, dildos, pegging. But not in the way you think lol)

Tagging: @tragiclyhip @youflickedtooharddamnit @secretaryunpaid @munstysmind @themaradwrites @ninjasawakenedmystar @thebejeweledwatercat @alisbackalleybbq @theesirenteller @karimac @kmc1989 @asirensrage @residentdormouse @arrthurpendragon @ocappreciation @occommunity

Link to Ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/48691714/chapters/129441475

My tag list is OPEN. Please just ask to be added if you'd like :D

****

“Okay…” Slipping off his coat, Tyler surveys his surroundings, greeting a waiting and ecstatic Lucy with a vigorous rub of the head. “...now it’s all starting to make sense.”

Esme sets both the wheeled suitcase and duffle bag by the door, then drops her hobo-style handbag on the kitchen table. “What’s making sense?”

“Why none of those pictures from the ‘net showed the inside of this place.”

Shrugging out of her jacket, she removes her beanie and tosses both aside; shaking out her long, dark tresses before placing her hands on her hips and surveying their surroundings. “It’s not THAT bad. It’s quaint. Cozy. Cute.”

“You realize that’s wood panelling on the walls, yeah?”

“Okay, so it kind of reminds me of my grandparents’ basement. Which they haven’t remodelled since the early seventies. But I’ve seen worse. I’ve LIVED in worse.”

“Is this where you tell me about your time in some rat-infested dump in New York City?”

“New York isn’t as horrible as you make it out to be. I would have given up an organ, even a limb, to land something right in the city. A walk-up apartment in an old brownstone. That was always my dream. To have a cute little place like Carrie Bradshaw’s.”

“Who?”

“Carrie Bradshaw. The main character in Sex and the City? Played by Sarah Jessica Parker? She’s married to Matthew Broderick? You know, the guy who was Ferris Bueller?”

“I have no goddamn clue who any of these people are.”

“You’ve never heard of Sex and the City? Have you been living in a cave? Cooking over an open fire? Throwing random women over your shoulder and carrying them back for sexy time?”

Smirking, he removes his beanie. “That’s how I landed you, wasn’t it?”

“You landed me with your pretty blue eyes and your sexy voice and your big dick.”

“You’re nothing if not honest.”

“Carrie is a writer,” Esme continues, holding the back of a kitchen chair to keep it steady as he lowers himself into it. “She writes about relationships and sex and life in the Big Apple. And she’s got her little posse; Miranda, the fiercely independent lawyer, Charlotte the die-hard romantic, longing to find true love, Samantha the big-time slut who loves men just a little too much. She was my favourite, by the way.”

“Makes sense. What’s that saying? Something about birds of a feather flocking together?”

She scowls. “Well, that’s just plain rude.”

“If you ask me, the show sounds like it’s for girls.”

“Plenty of men loved it. Mostly gay men, but…” Retreating to the middle of the living room, she places a hand on her hip, eyes narrowing as she taps the tip of her index against her lips.. “...I see the potential here. It’s not a lost cause. And it’s definitely not hideous. It’s just…”

“It’s ugly, and you know it.”

“Dated. It’s dated.”

“It’s not a person. You can say what you really feel. You can’t hurt its feelings.”

“I thought you, of all people, would love something like this. This is a five-star resort compared to where you were living when I met you.”

“I’ll have you know that I built that place myself. By hand.”

“And I’m extremely proud of you, and I find it very sexy when a man is great with his hands. In all the best possible ways. But babe, you had no interior walls, most of your windows didn’t close properly, and you had chickens as roommates. Believe me, this is a step up.”

“So what you’re saying is that it’s a ‘no’ to chickens in the house. Kinda ruins my plans.”

“As much as I’d rather NOT be constantly picking up their shit, I’ll deal. Only because I know how much you love the mangey little bastards. But they are NOT sleeping in bed with us.”

“What about night’s you’re not here?”

“It’s unlikely we’ll encounter nights like those, but IF it happens? You better make sure you change the damn sheets before I get home. You totally slept with your chickens before you met me, didn’t you. You totally let them in the bed.”

“Once in a while.”

“So which one of you was the little spoon? Or did you alternate every second night?”

“Has anyone ever told you that you have a really smart mouth?”

“No. But I have been told how extremely talented it is.”

“That I CAN’T argue with. I definitely have no complaints.”

“Even if you did, I wouldn’t listen to them. So…” Tugging playfully on his ears, she lays a hand on the nape of his neck and steps around to the side of the chair. “...what do you think? About this place? I know it isn’t as bougie as you’re used to, but…”

Reaching under the bottom of her shirt, he hooks a finger in one of the belt loops on her jeans and pulls her down onto his left thigh. “It’s tolerable. For now.” Pressing a kiss to her shoulder, his hand moves to her stomach, calloused palm flat against warm, smooth skin. “Until we’re able to get around to doing stuff.”

“Nik says it’s all ours. We can do whatever we want with it. I know it’s not going to be a permanent place for us, but…”

“I mean, it could be. If that’s what you wanted.”

“I just assumed you’d want to go home. That we’d end up in Australia.”

“We can end up wherever you want. I have no ties to ANY place. Just say where you want to go, and that’s where we’ll head.”

“It’s definitely something we’ll have to talk about. I can’t really decide something like THAT all on my own. You need to have a say in it, too. It’s not just me that deserves to be happy.”

“I’m happy as long as you are. Just say where you want to go. We’ll go.”

“As cute and sappy as that is…”

“You did NOT just use the c and the s word to describe me. In the SAME sentence.”

“...we both know it doesn’t work that way. That if you just follow me somewhere with no say, things would not end well. So we’ll talk about it. When we’re ready to make a decision like that. Sound good?”

“Whatever you say.”

“Goddamn, you’re difficult.”

“I thought I was being pretty easy and reasonable. What more do you want from me?”

“We both need to do a lot of work when it comes to being in a relationship.”

“Please don’t suggest therapy. I’ve had enough therapy in the past two months to last me a lifetime.”

“No therapy. I might get you to read some self-help books or listen to some podcasts…”

“Get off me.”

“That’s a request you usually don’t make,” she quips, then laughs and tightens her hold on him when he attempts to push her off his lap. “Baby, you’re so cute. Even when you’re being a grumpy shit.”

He smirks. “Fuck off, Esme.”

“You need a nap.” Placing a kiss on his temple, she affectionately tousles his hair and stands. “Or something to eat. Maybe both. Are you hangry, Tyler James? Are you hangry and sweepy?”

“Yes.”

“I’m just going to take a quick look around and then make us something to eat. And you’ve got meds to take. You’re due.”

“I’m fine.”

“You know what the doctor said. About making sure you keep on schedule. If you don’t do that…”

“The pain will really set in, and it’ll be harder to get rid of it. I was there. I heard him.”

“Then quit being so difficult. You don’t need to be an insufferable asshole twenty-four-seven.”

“Yes, I do. I have a reputation to keep.”

“Believe me, your reputation isn’t going anywhere. Not everyone can survive what you did. I think you cemented your legend status.”

“By the way, how does that make you feel about things?”

She pauses in the doorway of the spare bedroom. “What things?”

“Life, in general. Knowing you’re spending your life fucking a legend.”

“Well, I wouldn’t know, would I? Considering I haven’t fucked him since he got the title.”

With a grin tugging at the corners of his mouth, he snatches the discarded beanie from the middle of the table. “You can be a real bitch, you know that?”

“Now THAT I do know.” She laughs as she effortlessly dodges the hat thrown in her direction. “Give me a few minutes, and then I’ll make something to eat. You won’t starve in the meantime.”

“You’re actually going to subject me to your cooking the first day in?”

Scowling, she disappears into the second bedroom. Several seconds passing before just her hand appears in the doorway in order to flip him the middle finger.

His fingers alternate between slipping through Lucy’s short, smooth fur and scratching her favourite spot directly under her chin. Listening as Esme’s feet -clad in thick, mismatched woollen socks move over the weathered and creaking floorboards. Hearing intermittent soft clicking and the sliding of wood against wood as she inspects dresser and nightstand drawers. And when it finally falls silent, he calls out to her. “Anything interesting?”

“Whoever lived here before us were total freaks! I just found a whole load of gigantic dildos in the bedside table! And one of those harnesses a woman wears. You know, when she does her man up the…”

“Esme…”

“I don’t see any lube though. I guess we’re not trying pegging tonight.”

“Don’t even THINK about it.”

“What would you say if I came to bed and had a butt plug in with a raccoon’s tail hanging off it?”

“I’d call you a freak and kick you out onto the couch.”

She gives a disgruntled, dramatic huff, then appears in the doorway. “You’re boring.”

“You certainly weren’t saying that two nights ago when we almost got caught by the night nurse. While you were giving me…”

“Like, no pegging with giant dildos and no raccoon tail butt plugs? I swear, a girl can’t have ANY fun.”

“If that’s your idea of fun, you’ve got the wrong guy.”

“Don’t worry, big boy.” She shoots him a wink as she pads through the small, open-concept living room and kitchen. “There’s nothing to be scared of. I’ll be gentle with you.”

“You even come near me with one of those things…”

“I was joking. I didn’t find a damn thing. Which is incredibly disappointing. I was hoping some eccentric weirdo lived here before and left some wild shit behind.”

“Have you looked around this place? The panelling? Fucking knick-knacks all over the place? A goddamn deer head on the wall? Does any of that scream eccentric weirdo do you?”

“It could have been to throw off visitors. Convince innocent, unsuspecting people that they were completely normal. You know, so they could drug their coffee and tea in order to knock them out and hide them in their sex dungeon!”

“I think it’s safe to say that no one normal lives here NOW. Well, one of us might be considered somewhat sane.”

“Don’t worry. Your secret's safe with me. I won’t tell anyone you’re a psycho.”

She opens the door to the main bathroom and pokes her head inside. Fingernails tapping against the wall as she makes approving noises and comments about the brand new shower, tub, sink, and toilet. Then proceeds to curse and grumble about having to DEFINITELY change the flooring and the colour of the walls.

“I think we both know I’m the only somewhat normal one around here.”

“You keep telling yourself that.” She moves to the master bedroom, mere seconds passing before she gives a loud gasp. “Oh my god….TYLER!”

“Let me guess, you found the sex dungeon.”

“Even better!” She appears in the doorway, eyes sparkling and dancing as she gives an excited squeal and bounces up and down on her heels. “It’s bigger than I expected!”

“Didn’t you say those exact words in Dhaka? The first time I dropped my pants?”

“I was pleasantly surprised. That you exceeded even MY lofty expectations.”

“What did you find? I swear if it’s anything remotely related to me taking something up the ass…”

“Nothing like that! You need to see it! It’s enormous!”

“You don’t have another guy stashed in there, do you?”

“I can barely handle the one I already have. Why would I want the extra stress? Seriously, come and see this.”

“I know what a bedroom looks like.”

“It’s not just the room that’s bigger and better than I thought it would be! It’s the bed! It takes up so much space, and there’s still lots of room to spare. Please just come and take a look? Because I asked so nicely? Pretty please? I know how much you love to make me happy.”

“For someone so tiny, you’re an enormous pain in my ass,” he grumbles, yet shoots her a wink. A hand on the table top as he slowly pushes himself up onto his feet; fighting back a wince as even the most careful of movements bring almost unbearable agony. Too much time spent on his ass during the flight and the long drive from Vienna to the cabin; his knee feeling tight and swollen and in desperate need of relief.

“As soon as we eat, you put your leg up,” Esme informs him, as he joins her in the doorway. “It’s not good to go this long without elevating it. And you WILL take your meds.”

“While I’d normally argue with you and tell you I’m fine…”

“That’s how I know it’s bad. You’re NOT giving me a hard time.”

“I’ll be okay. Just he assures her, and places a hand on the back of her neck, his lips meeting her temple as his fingers massage the stiff, tight muscles. “Just need to rest it.”

For months she’s held onto an enormous amount of stress and tension; those long, trying days and nights spent at his bedside, fighting back against the doctors who had already declared him a lost cause and wanted to just pull the plug. But she’d held on there despite the pressure dumped upon her, digging her heels in even further and refusing to break to their demands. They weren’t using him as a sacrifice to the healthcare system Gods; they’d have to find another way to ‘free up a bed’.

“She’s going to break sooner or later,” Nik had warned him just days before his release. “She’s been shouldering all of this for three quarters of a year. I’ve been around some very tough people, but none as tough as THAT. She can’t keep it up, Tyler. She just can’t. We all break at one point or another. And when her time comes, you’re going to have to be there for her. Because she’ll need you. So you better be sure that you’ll step up.”

One of her tiny hands falls on the small of his back as he sticks his head into the master. “What do you think? It’s huge, right?”

“Definitely bigger than I expected. The room AND the bed.”

She playfully smacks his ass, grinning up at him as she tightly squeezes a cheek through the fabric of his pants. “You know how much I love a large playground.”

“Speaking of playtime, when do I get my surprise?”

“Patience is a virtue, old fella.”

“For who?”

“The virtuous, I guess. Besides, I thought you were hungry. And tired. And sore.”

“I am. I’m all three of those. But…” He hastily removes the sling from his left arm, tearing open the velcro fasteners and tossing the object onto the dresser. Not giving her a chance to respond, he grabs hold of her hips and uses his much larger, heavier frame to propel her backwards into the room.

“We’re really going to give it a go, are we? Right this second?”

“No time like the present. I’ve been wanting to give it a go since we left the hospital. Even BEFORE that. I was going to say something on the plane; about joining the mile-high club, but…”

“Been there, done that.”

He frowns, pausing as he leans in to kiss her, their lips a hair’s width apart.

“You’re not the only one with a past, Tyler Rake.”

“Did he teach you anything good?”

“He taught me a few things.” Her hands slide up the front of his henley shirt, chestnut eyes locked on brilliant blue as she softly drags the nails of her index across his stomach. Beginning their lazy journey at his belt buckle and finally finishing at each of his hips. “Who do you think is responsible for this mouth being so talented?”

“As much as I hate even thinking about you with other guys, I want his name and address. So I can send him a thank you card. And a case of beer. You know, just a small token of gratitude.”

“And seeing as he didn’t give a shit about what I needed to feel good, I figured I’d let you teach me the rest.”

“I’m honoured.”

“You should be. I’ve already let you go where no man has ever dared to go before.”

“Only because you asked me if I would. Can’t believe it only took two days.”

“What can I say…” She catches him off guard by pushing him backwards, pinning him between her body and the dresser as she aggressively yanks open his belt. “...you have that effect on me.”

“I realize I’m still hurting, and I got a long way to go, but don’t think for a second you get to be the boss. It doesn’t work that way.”

“Who are you kidding?” She pops open the button on his pants. “I’m always the boss.”

Smirking, he snatches her by the throat, fingers lightly pressing into the soft, delicate flesh as he pushes her towards the bed. And she gives a gasp of surprise when the back of her knees hit the edge of the mattress, giggling when she loses her balance and topples backwards.

She pushes herself up onto her elbows. a slow grin spreading from ear to ear as she watches him quickly dispose of both knee brace and pants and hastily toss them into the nearest corner. “No underwear, huh? You WERE hopeful.”

“Easy access. For both of us.”

“Even in this weather. I’m surprised your balls didn’t freeze off. That would have been a goddamn Greek tragedy.”

“They’re still a little. If you can warm them up. It’ll keep you quiet for a while.”

“Kinky.” She laughs when he grabs hold of the bottom of her jeans; falling backward when he aggressively pulls her towards him. “You ARE eager.”

“Things are working. You said yourself, it’s been hit or miss. Well, right now it's a hit, so…” He yanks both the denim and her skimpy lace underwear over her hips and ass and down her legs. “...let’s not waste time. Just in case.”

“Aren’t you even going to wait? For me to get your surprise on?”

“Nope.” He shoves her thighs open. “Right now, I don’t care. We’ll do that later.”

“Two times in one day? Someone is feeling awful cocky.”

“It’s my cock that’s feeling something. Don’t worry, you’ll be feeling it soon too.”

She opens her mouth to respond but quickly bites down on the bottom lip as he makes his way up her body; a mixture of calloused palms, the roughness of his beard, and the press of warm, soft lips. Thick fingers -with their various scars and misshapen knuckles- digging into the back of her thighs as he licks, sucks, and nibbles his way along the insides of her legs. And though disappointed when he ignores the most desperate and aching of parts, she still manages a giggle when he pulls her surgical steel navel ring into his mouth and lightly yanks at it with his teeth.

No one has ever worshipped her the way he does. The attention and focus he displays while paying homage to her body; the fire in her very bones and nerves growing in intensity with every swipe of his tongue and suckle of his lips and every caress and group of her hands. Selfless and never selfish, even when his own wants and needs are profound and overwhelming. Forever paying keen attention to the way she responds to him. Learning through every sigh and moan, every flinch and shiver, the differences in tone and pitch when she says his name. And somehow always knowing exactly what she needs.

By the time he reaches her lips, she’s desperate for so much more, nails raking across his shoulders and down his back, hips continuously rising to meet his in an unspoken request. When he finally kisses her, she moans into his mouth, and her hands find his hair; her fingers immediately tunnelling through the longer strands as she responds eagerly and hungrily. But when he pulls away to look down at her, there’s a tenderness in his eyes that she isn’t prepared for. An affection and adoration that softens his features and enables her to truly ‘see’ him for the first time. And suddenly, he seems far removed from the hardened and highly skilled mercenary that she had initially fallen in love with. Instead replaced by a previously broken and haunted man who’s in the midst of the most important transformation of his entire life.

The healing of both body AND mind.

“I love you.”

It brings tears to her eyes. The sincerity in those three simple, yet powerful words.

“More than you’ll ever know.”

The sob escapes her before she has the chance to bite it back, and she quickly finds herself gathered into strong arms and a broad chest. His body is warm and hard against hers, and his hands are steady yet comforting as they lovingly stroke her hair and repeatedly caress her back.

It’s all so foreign and overwhelming. Completely unlike anything she’s ever known or experienced. He’s reliable. Protective. Making her feel safe and secure in ways no one else ever has.

And in that moment, she’s sure of one thing. She’s never been loved like this, either.

*****

He feels sleepy and content as he lounges on the couch; his bad leg -once more sporting the knee brace- stretched out, foot resting on the coffee table. Both body and mind sated by a successful -if not disappointingly short- love making session that ended up more slow and tender than he’d originally anticipated. It had been followed by a hot shower and a surprisingly good meal that Esme had been incredibly proud of; a simple pasta and meat sauce dish paired with salad and garlic toast. Now he alternates between watching football and listening to his girlfriend as she busies herself in the kitchen. Lucy refusing to leave her side; more than pleased with the morsels of food she’d been slipped under the table. And with the seemingly endless amount of ear rubs and hair ruffles and chin scratches that are passed her way.

It’s the most relaxed he’s been in years. The warmth of the fire as snow trickles down outside, the rattling of dishes and silverware, and the way Esme alternates between humming as she works and talking to Lucy in a quiet, motherly way. The fear is starting to fade; the realization setting in that not only this is his life now, but he’s good with it. Not entirely accepting of the fact he’s retired; remaining somewhat concerned about where he goes -professional speaking- from here. But he feels safe and secure in the knowledge that knowing that Esme is under the same roof. Wanting and needing him. Loving him.

“I don’t have anything else, my love,” Esme addresses the dog sprawled out at her feet. “At least none of what you really want. Do you want a cookie? Auntie Nik got them just for you. I bet they’re delicious. Let’s get you a cookie.”

Out of the corner of his eyes, he sees her move across the room, her hair still loose and flowing and nearly reaching the middle of her back. Her tiny frame clad in a pair of simple black leggings and one of the plaid shirts she’d poached from his side of the closet. And he finds himself amused by the way she has to stand on her tiptoes to get the container of dog biscuits off the second shelf in the cupboard.

“Tyler…”

“Yeah?”

“This d…o…g won’t stop eating.”

“Why did you spell that out?”

“Because I don’t want her to know I’m talking about her. It might give her a complex.”

“Your logic is…astounding.”

“Even animals have feelings. I mean, you’re the biggest one of all, and you’ve been all up in your feels lately.”

“Esme?”

She glances towards him.

Without looking away from the television, he holds up his right hand and flips her the middle finger.

“Well, that’s just rude, isn’t it Lucy? Just plain rude.”

“She’s a traitor. That’s your dog now. She’s made that perfectly clear. Hasn’t left your side since before dinner.”

“Well, if we want to get technical, she’s OUR dog now. But I’m sure she still loves you best. Daddy’s still your favourite, isn’t he? You could never love anyone the way you love him. I’ll let you in on a little secret; I feel the exact same way about him.”

He smiles. “You BOTH have horrible taste in men.”

“Excuse you? I’ll have you know that my taste in me is impeccable. Well, at least NOW it is. I didn’t have to kiss too many frogs before I got to my prince, but the ones I DID have to kiss? Ewwww.” Giving Lucy a final pet, she fills the kettle and plugs in it, completing her tidying of the kitchen and then making a coffee for him, a tea for herself. Starting her journey into the living room, she pauses by the front door; spotting the small cardboard box he’d set down earlier. “What’s this?”

He casts a glance in her direction. “Just some stuff from my old place. That Nik and Yaz packed up.”

“That’s all they brought?”

“That and some clothes.”

“Where’s the rest?”

“What rest? You saw my old place. What more was there for them to bring?”

“What’s in it?”

“Just some personal shit. From back in the day. Nothing you need to worry yourself with.”

“You’re right. I’m sorry. It’s really none of my business. I shouldn’t have even asked. It’s really none of my business.”

“I didn’t mean it like that.” Fuck. He really needs to pay more attention to the tone of his voice when speaking to her. He’s always been straight to the point; never dragging things out or sugar coating them. While it had suited him well in both military and mercenary life and had, it had unfortunately been one of the many issues that eventually sunk his marriage. Esme deserves better; she’s sensitive and feels and loves so deeply and profoundly. And, like her need to give and want affection, it’s yet another thing he needs to get used to. “I just meant that it’s nothing serious. I’d tell you if it was.”

She doesn’t pursue it. Either not as hurt at his reaction as he had thought she would be, or just deciding to pick her battles. But she greets him with a smile when she joins him, setting their mugs down on the coffee table and then accepting the hand he offers her and dropping down beside her.

Releasing her hand, he wraps his arm around her, he pulls her tightly against him, his hand resting on her hip as he presses a kiss to her temple. She smells so damn good; that mixture of coconut, honey, and milk that he’d first discovered in Dhaka and had been so enthralled. It’s simple and unassuming; a cheap shampoo that she’d found in a corner store in Prague just hours before Nik had brought her to Australia. And she’d been so taken aback by his genuine compliments about the scent, that she’d decided never to use anything else.

“I’m sorry.”

She reaches for the coffee and hands it to them, then picks up her tea. “For what?”

“I honestly didn’t mean it the way it sounded. When you asked about the box. It’s not it’s not your business. It’s just…” Shrugging, he sips at his drink. “...nothing you’d be interested in. Or at least, I don’t think you’d be.”

“I’m interested in YOU. In your life. Especially the one that came before me. I know it wasn’t a utopia by any stretch of the imagination, and you’ve been through some shit, but if you ever WANT to share, I’m good with it.”

“Same goes for you, yeah? If you ever just want to tell me about things? I don’t want you holding back because you think it’s going to piss me off. Even if hearing about your ex and the shit he did might make me feel homicidal.”

“And he’d deserve it. If you got a hold of him and broke every bone in his body.”

“I wouldn’t just stop there. I wouldn’t be able to. And a lot of places to stash him afterwards. Where no one would ever find him.”

“As much as I appreciate and love you for wanting to avenge me, I also don’t want to bring him into this. Into our life together. I don’t want him tarnishing things. Ruining them.”

“He could never do that.”

“Just some things really are better left in the past. Some of the things he did…” She chews on her bottom lip, choosing her words carefully. “...I just can’t talk about those. And that’s not a personal slight against you. It’s not because I feel like I CAN’T you. It has nothing to do with you.”

“I know. But if you ever DO want to talk about things…”

“Believe, you’d be the first person…the ONLY person…I’d ever go to. I trust Nik and Yaz, but not in the same way I trust you. Does that make sense?”

“It does. I feel the same way about you.”

“You’re my person, Tyler. You’re the one I want to tell things to. Good AND bad. You’re the one I want to share things with. Whether it’s horror stories about my ex or stupid jokes that I’ve gathered up over the years, or things I hear or see when I’m out. I don’t feel that comfortable with anyone else. Not like I do with you.”

“Do you think maybe it has something to do with the fact I’m the one you get naked and do filthy fucking things with?”

“That could play a role,” she laughs, and presses a lingering kiss to his cheek.

They settle into a comfortable, companionable silence, Lucy joining them and lying on the floor in front of the couch; watching the football game as they nurse their drinks, enjoying the warmth from the fire. He realizes that they’re in the midst of the ‘honeymoon phase’; everything seems to flow and co-exist so easily. Able to shut themselves away from the outside world; refusing to allow intrusive thoughts to penetrate the bubble they’ve built around themselves. They’re happy and comfortable; immersed in the ‘getting to know you stage’ outside of the intimate moments. Learning about each other’s likes and dislikes, their respective quirks and habits. It won’t always be this way. The charm will wear off; they’ll become easily annoyed and agitated as they both attempt to get used to sharing not only their space but their life, with another person.

When their mugs are empty, she places them on the coffee table and then stretches out on the couch. On her side with both arms wrapped around his thigh and her head in his lap.

“Is your team playing?”

His hand settles on her hip. “Yeah. The Western Bulldogs. They’re the ones with the red and blue shirts.”

“Are they winning?”

“By a pretty big margin, actually.”

“This doesn’t look like regular football. It’s nothing like the NFL. These guys are out there just killing each other. And as much as enjoy senseless violence from time to time…”

“This is Australian rules. Nothing like what you’re used to. This is the real deal. Not that wimpy crap they play where you’re from.”

“If we’re able to get sports from Australia, we might be able to get some hockey games. That would be nice. We could watch them together.”

“I don’t like hockey.”

“Have you ever seen a hockey game?”

“Once. That was enough.”

“Tell you what…” She rolls over onto her back “...if you’ll watch some hockey games and learn a bit about it, I’ll do the same with you and your football. Deal?”

“I suppose I could agree to that.”

“You’re going to have to teach me the rules, though. I know nothing about football. ANY kind of football.”

“Shouldn’t be hard. You’ve already proven to be a pretty fast learner in other areas. I’m impressed with you.”

“Well, you happen to be an excellent teacher. Although I do have one complaint.”

Tyler frowns.

“Things worked so well, I am aching. I don’t think I’m going to be able to walk properly for a couple of days.”

“Just a couple? I’m insulted.”

“Next time, the number will be higher, I promise.”

“I may have been a little….hasty…when it came to going from start to finish.”

“It lasted longer than I thought it would, to be honest.”

“Excuse you?”

“I didn’t mean that as a cheap shot. And I’m already very familiar with your skills and your staying power. But think of everything you just went through; you were clinically dead nine months ago, AND you just spent three quarters of a year in the hospital. I know we’ve gotten up to other things, but we haven’t actually done THAT. Given the circumstances, you not lasting that long is to be expected.”

“I don’t know if any of your little speech made me feel any better. It’s embarrassing. I’m thirty-five years old and…”

“You’re thirty-six now. You had a birthday in the midst of everything.”

“That’s it, just go and make things worse. Add another year onto my life.”

“Listen…” Reaching up, she takes hold of his chin. “...there is nothing to be embarrassed about. Do you realize how close you were? To being six feet under? You shouldn’t even be here. A weaker man? They would have given up. They wouldn’t have fought their way back. And if one of the setbacks to surviving all that is to not last as long as you usually do, I’d say that’s pretty damn good.”

“I’ve lasted longer than since I was fifteen years old.”

“And you’ll go back lasting longer again. It’s nothing to be ashamed of. Did I have a problem with it?”

“Not that I could tell. Or that you’re admitting.”

“I have absolutely zero complaints. Except for the whole not being able to walk or sit properly thing. You need to realize that things aren’t going to be like they were. Not for a while, anyway. You’ve come a long way and there’s an even longer way to go. Can’t you just be proud of yourself? For even getting out of that hospital?”

“I only did it for you. You’re the only reason I fought my way back. Why I busted my ass to get back on my feet. If you hadn’t been around…”

“But I WAS. I was there because I wanted to be. Because I knew you had a lot of fight left in you. And I know you’re tired and frustrated, and you think you should be further ahead, but you’re doing way better than anyone ever expected.”

“You expected it. You didn’t give up.”

“I know how strong you are. And I know you in ways all those other people don’t. Even Nik. I wasn’t abandoning you, Tyler. And I would have fought to the bitter end. Until there was some proof you weren’t going to come out of it. So THIS? This whole not lasting as long as normal? It’s actually a huge accomplishment, considering. Think of it that way.”

“Why are you like this?”

“Like what?”

“How do you always find the silver lining in everything? The glass is always half full to you. How…?”

“Because I know what I’ve survived. Not even my worst days come close to what Mark put me through. So guess I’ve just tried to turn my suffering into something positive. I’ve learned to look at the world in a different way.”

“Personally, I think you’re just some kind of freak.”

Scowling, she flicks the tip of his nose with her thumb and forefinger.

“I love you, though. As weird as you are.”

“Admit it, my weirdness was one of the things you found adorable and appealing.”

“No, actually. It wasn’t. I’ve just learned to accept it and live with it.”

“Well, for what it’s worth? I love YOU. You enormously stubborn pain in my ass.”

“I don’t know what I ever did to deserve it, but…”

“Did I say it was up for debate? Did I say you could question things? No. So just…” She places a hand over his mouth. “...shhhh. Stop asking why and stop doubting what you’re worthy of, and just go with it. Can you do that? Just accept it and go with it?”

“I can try.”

“You better,” she warns and then turns her face towards him, her nose pressing into his stomach and her eyes closing. The events of the morning and afternoon quickly catching up to her: the relief that came with finally leaving the hospital, the long flight that had followed, and the drive to the cabin that represented the last leg of their trip to freedom. And then the sex; that effortless transition from hungry, desperate, and impatient to something much more tender and attentive.

Now she’s finally able to relish in the aftermath. Enjoying the hardness of his body and that warmth that radiates from it, his familiar smell and the beat of his heart deep within. Issuing a long, content sigh when one of those enormous, calloused hands is placed upon her cheek; his fingertips softly stroking her forehead while his thumb makes continuous sweeps across her cheek. And just as she begins to feel herself teetering on the edge of sleep, she feels him move against her; the slight shift of his body and the couch cushions as he reaches for the throw on the back of the couch and proceeds to drape it over her. What follows is such a simple, sweet display of care and adoration. A smile playing on her lips as this man -so big and so strong and capable of inflicting so much harm- ever so tenderly tucks and secures the fabric under and around her.

From that moment, she loses all track of time. The stroking of her cheek eventually ceases; his arm becomes limp, and his hand comes to rest upon her hip as sleep finally claims him. His soft snoring and deep rhythmic breathing joining the rattling of the windows as the wind and the snow continue to rage beyond the cabin’s four walls.

*****

When she wakes, it’s to the crackle of the fire and Lucy’s loud snoring, the cattle dog somehow managing to find enough space on the sofa. Rolling onto her back, she gives a loud yawn and a long, languorous stretch. Rapidly blinking her eyes when she’s greeted by the unexpected glow of the couch side lamp.

She watches Tyler in silence. Still in the same spot as when she’d fallen asleep, his eyes narrowed, and his brow furrowed as he devotes his focus and attention to a game on his cell phone. And it isn’t until she lightly tickles his stomach that he acknowledges her, greeting her with a soft smile as he uses gentle fingertips to clear strands away off her forehead and out of her eyes.

“Hey.”

“Hey.”

“Sleep alright?”

Esme nods. “Guess I was just way too warm and cozy. Did you?”

“It was an okay nap. I kinda freaked out a bit, though. When I woke up. I didn’t even remember coming here. I thought I was still in the hospital. So when I didn’t recognize anything…”

“You spent three-quarters of a year there. I’d be surprised if you didn’t have moments like that. Eventually, they’ll go away. Once you get used to being here.”

“Once I realized that you, were YOU, I was alright. I knew I was in a safe place. That everything was going to be okay.”

It’s so sincere and genuine….so unexpected… that it causes a lump of emotion to sit square in her throat. She’s never known anyone quite like him, the strong, silent type that usually doesn’t have much to say, but makes an enormous impact when he does speak. He hides nothing from her. Open and transparent from the beginning of those five days in Dhaka, not just with words, but with facial expressions and body language. Both of them -despite their painful pasts and respective, albeit different, losses- somehow finding a level of trust in one another that neither had experienced before.

“Are you alright?”

Nodding, he tosses his phone onto the coffee table. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“You’re feeling okay? You’ve had enough to eat? You don’t have too much pain? You…”

“Are you really going to do this as soon as you get up? Start worrying?”

“I can’t help it. I’m a worrier. It’s who I am. You should be used to it by now.”

“There’s nothing for you to worry about. I’m fine. I’d tell you if I wasn’t.”

Her eyes narrow. “Would you?”

“I’ve already promised I would. About a million times already. I’m fine, Esme. I mean, other than the fact my left leg and my ass are completely asleep.”

“You could have gotten up, you know.” She attempts to sit up, laughing when a broad, strong forearm prevents her. “You didn’t have to stay here. You could have moved me.”

“I didn’t have the heart to do it. You looked way too cute, lying there like that. You snore, by the way.”

“I most certainly do not.”

“You do. You snore AND talk in your sleep.”

“Did I say anything interesting?”

“You didn’t incriminate yourself in any crimes if that’s what you mean. You did make a grocery list, though. Toilet paper, milk, ketchup, and cat litter.”

“Bullshit. You’re making that up.”

“I’m telling the truth. Scouts honour.”

“You were NEVER a scout. Who are you kidding?”

“But you did make a grocery list. And those are the things you mentioned. I have no idea where the cat litter comes into play, but…”

“Maybe that was a hint. That we should get a cat.”

“I don’t like cats.”

“How can you not like cats? They’re cute, and they’re furry, and they purr and make biscuits on you. How can you not be into that sort of thing?”

“They smell funny.”

“This coming from a guy that lets chickens freely roam the house. And sleep in the bed!”

“We are NOT getting a cat.”

“Just one?”

“No.”

“Please? You won’t even know it’s here. I’ll do all the feeding and the cleaning up and…”

“I don’t want a cat. I’m not a cat guy. Do I look like one to you?”

“Please, you like pussy more than anyone I know.”

“Not that kind, I don’t.”

“I’ll break you. I’ll wear you down. I will get my cat.”

“Over my dead body.”

“That can be arranged.”

“You’d never go through with. You’d miss me too much.”

“Like a hemorrhoid.” She squeals when he slides a hand between her and the couch and aggressively pinches her ass, then playfully shoves him away and sits up; hands smoothing over her hair and fixing her ponytail. “I have some bad news, by the way.”

“Color me surprised.”

“We have to leave the house sooner than I thought. We need to go into town. Grab a few things.”

“Ketchup, ass tissue, and cat litter?”

“Ice cream. And chocolate. My period is coming soon.”

“I didn’t need to know that.”

“I mean, you wouldn’t wonder why I’m suddenly bitchy and bleeding out of my vagina?”

“You’re always bitchy. And you like things rough. Anything can go wrong when you’re…”

“And firewood. We need firewood. Track down some of the pre-cut, bagged stuff. There’s not enough on the porch to even last even a couple of days. It’s how we heat this place, so…”

“Have you taken a look outside? We are surrounded by trees. Which is where firewood comes from. And I already saw an axe out on the front porch.”

“You have one good arm.”

“Which is more than enough to chop firewood. I mean, it’ll take a lot longer than if I had TWO good arms, but…”

“And you have one good leg. You’re going to hurt yourself. Chop your foot off or something. I could always do it. I know how to use an axe.”

“You can lift an axe?”

“Well, maybe not a normal-size one. But a little one.”

“You mean a hatchet?”

“It’s technically a little axe, right? I mean, it’ll take me a couple of days to make any sort of headway, but…”

“And you worry about me hurting myself? I’m just supposed to be okay with you wielding a hatchet? I mean, if you want to do it that badly, you can just come out and help me. Make sure I don’t fuck things up.”

“Oh, right. And then when I annoy you, you’ll chop me into a million pieces and throw me in the woods!”

“I would never chop you up and throw you in the woods.”

“Aww, you big softy. You wouldn’t know what to do with yourself; if I wasn’t around anymore. You’d…”

“I’d chop you up and feed you to the dog.”

At the end of the couch, Lucy briefly raises her head, tilting it from side to side before issuing a heavy sigh and returning to her original position.

“You’re an asshole,” Esme grumbles, laughing when she tries to stand but quickly finds two powerful arms wrapping around her waist and yanking her back down.

“I'll tell you what, because I don’t want you worrying so much, we will go into town and find bagged firewood.”

“Thank you.”

“We’ll get enough to last at least a couple of weeks. But once it runs out, you gotta give me a chance, yeah? To try and do things? Because I’m going to go completely fucking nuts doing nothing but sitting on my ass all day.”

“There’s lots of things for you to do. You can go on walks, you can ice fish, you can learn to knit, like Yaz said.”

“Just let me try. That’s all I’m asking. I’m not going to get any better by not testing the limits. You need to trust me.”

“It’s not that I don’t trust you. It’s just that I worry about you. I’ve spent nine months taking care of you. In some way or another. And it makes me really nervous; when I think about all the things that could go wrong.”

“Don’t think about those things, then,”

“Believe me, it’s easier said than done. But I WILL try. To not worry so much.”

“Thank you.”

Slipping out of his embrace, she climbs into his lap, wrapping both arms around his neck and placing her head on his shoulder. And her eyes close as she enjoys both his scent and touch, large hands slipping up the back of her shirt, calloused fingertips repeatedly travelling up and down her spine.

“By the way…” His voice rumbles deep within his chest. “...I’d never do anything horrible to you. Not even remotely.”

Smiling, she presses a kiss to the sensitive spot just below his left ear. “I know.”

“Also, I’m ready for my surprise.”

“Jesus…”

“Listen, you said the ‘p word’. That was the trigger.”

Laughing, she pulls back to look at him, fingertips tracing the scar that curves over the bridge of her nose. “You’re like a horny fifteen-year-old stuck in a grown man’s body.”

“I’ve got a lot to make up for. Nine months. That’s…”

“A long ass time.”

“I don’t know old timer,” she teases, and playfully ruffles his hair. “Think you can keep up with a youngin’ like me.”

“I don’t know.” One hand slips between them to gently cup her breast, and he feels her shiver against him when his thumb brushes over her nipple. “But I can’t try.”

[just-a-gamer-daydeamer-girl]

Bloody Star AU 🩸⭐️ Stardust Crusades stuff

So the way this part opens up is the Cult of Dio finally finding their founders body in the special coffin as well as a special container with a majority of Jonathan’s body that has been preserved in a special box. (Kinda debating if Jonathan would still be alive and aware of what was happening he probably wouldn’t stay alive for much longer or worse, I’m just gonna say he’s dead for now) the cult basically goes “hey let’s try and revive our founder whose body is in remarkably good condition because of the Hamon coffin using the remains of the original Bloody Star Vampire and the new power we discovered called Stands!” And thus the Cult of Dio enters its mad science era.

Basically the final fight will be against a Frankenstein‘s monster thing made out of Dio’s and Jonathan’s parts. Definitely some metal and other stuff in their to prevent the hamon from effecting the vampire parts. Perhaps they stole the info of the experiments data of Joseph that the SWF did in the part 2 era and that furthers their research even more.

This AU Jotaro isn’t as rude or a punk and is a bit leaner, because he mostly lived a mostly solitary lifestyle with his mom in Japan. But he is still very quiet and doesn’t like to show emotion. Although I think he would be a bit of an explorer, wandering the streets at night. He basically becomes a local myth in the city. When he gets his stand he panics and instead of going into a police holding cell he runs into the woods and stays there stubbornly isolating himself (and adding new rumors to his ever growing cryptid stories). His mom does eventually find him but he refuses to go home, snapping at her and calling her an annoying bich for the first time, Star bringing Everything he needs. It’s hard but she had to go home before the sun came up.

Joseph and Alvdol come to help. With the Fortune teller getting Jotaro out of the forest by having him chase him and some encouraging words from his grandfather (little Jojo, I know that your scared of what’s happening, that you may become some kind of monster, but it’s kinda silly to do so because we come from a family of monsters, but we’re all human on the inside, and this new power of yours doesn’t change that one bit) Jotaro heads home.

Yea Joseph and his friends call jotaro Little jojo.

Joseph stays with Holly and Jotaro for a while with Avdol as his bodyguard, because the cult of Dio was acting more suspicious and moving towards his home. He had been able to lead a somewhat normal life and run his own business for a while besides he’s been getting more irritated lately for some reason. But there is no rest for the wicked for the wicked and the cult is waiting and preparing something something Big! And the Kujo household is ironically the best safe house they have. Not many people even know where the Kujos live and you can’t even find their house without knowing how to look for it. The Kujo family is one of Japan’s most hidden secrets. Sadao doesn’t let anyone know he has a family but he loves them all the same.

Jotaro goes out to get some groceries, (cus he is one of the only people in the house that can go outside during the day). His hight does make him stand out but he just pretends he’s a forager visitor only speaking in English. He buys the ingredients for dinner and begins to head home. But on his way back he falls down some stairs because something injured his leg. On high alert after that he accepts the help of some strangers who were around and decided to take the long twisted way home. Some of the groceries would have spoiled but it would be worth the extra caution.

While he is walking home he finds a slip of paper with a message on it in his pocket.

“Today you will burn in the glorious light of life, with my emeralds I will cut you down using my stand.

-Kakyoin Noraki”

Shortly after he processed the information he is thrown into an alleyway, making him cornered. He sees a red headed Japanese boy, wearing some green robes, a circlet with a silver peace in the center and an iconic sun pendant that was essentially the cross for the cult of Dio. He was followed with two people also wearing similar circlets. Jotaro saw green tendrils spreading all around him even above him forming a inescapable web. So yea they fight and they argue during the fight about morality, during the confrontation Jotaro notices that there is something wrong with the other boys eyes.

Jotaro finally wins but something is wrong with his opponent who was knocked out had his eyes shot open and starts spazing. Blood starts dripping from the circlet, namely the center of his forehead. His two companions(?) start grinning sinisterly their circlets are different (basically hamon powered thought remotes) saying that Kakyoin served the order well, he fell to one of the Bloody Stars, they would have to take him on himself. They both get the stuffing beat out of them because they didn’t have stands. Like come on…. I guess they tried to take him on while he was weakened from the fight but still….

Jotaro takes Kakyoin and the remains of the grocery’s back home. They remove the killer circlet with some trouble (similar to the flesh bud) and hand it to the SWF for study, they give the red head some vamp blood (it is great for healing that’s cannon, I mean Joseph was right as rain after the blood transfusion.)

Kakyoin was smug and righteous before but now he just looks haunted…. He doesn’t run away but he is clearly scared and not talking to anyone. He is constantly gripping his sun pendant. Despite the circlet messing with his head he was apparently an genuine worshipper. After being betrayed by members of his own religion and now basically in the presence of their version of the devil and demons, he is not having a good time. Everyone gives him some space and they have him out of the Kujo house hold and into the company on the SWF, he isn’t being held prisoner at all, he can leave any time he wants.

A week pasts and the Jostar family is currently bunking down with minimal contact. It’s now obvious that the cult is doing something BIG.

Then one day Holly just goes feral for some reason, right in the middle of cooking. Jotaro, Joseph and Avdol all do their best to calm her down and constrain without hurting her,Joseph even awakens his stand in the mess but nothing works. Holly actually almost kills Jotaro, it is then her stand awakens and constricts her, vines grapple with any leverage, pulling the kind mother turned savage farther and farther away from her son, tears now falling from her eyes. Finally the stand locks her in a room and binds her hands and legs.

They get the speed wagon foundation to come over quickly and Kakyoin comes along as well. The researchers and the doctors do some research/ try to helpon both Holly without hurting her as well as looking over Jotaro and Joseph. They learn that something is messing with Hollys instincts, she is basically a prisoner of her own mind, whatever this effect is it’s due to the unique bloodline connection the Joestars have (it wasn’t discovered until Holly’s youth, mainly because most parents don’t see their kids grow up in this family) the whole ‘connection’ thing is still pretty mysterious, after confirming that it wasn’t Jotaro and Joseph fault they learn something even scarier, they being effected too. That’s why Jotaro was being more rude, and Joseph being more irritated than usual.

The scientists estimate that in 30 day’s every member of the Jostars would either be overpowered by their body’s instincts or become addicted to feeding on the innocent.

After seeing how scared Jotaro was Kakyoin finally decided to help, “it’s kinda silly and stupid to think anyone is pure evil, we’re to complicated for that, even the devil is a person after all. Just don’t make me regret this,” He tells them about his past, how he and his family were casual worshippers (just go to church on Sundays nothing special that kinda thing he wasn’t going stop his life or make it his entire existence for it) he wasn’t supper hardcore or serious about it. Then one day he gets approached by someone in the church, saying that they knew about hierophant green, and that he had a special power that they called a Stand. Wanting to learn more Kakyoin talked more, they learned a lot about stands, how they worked and others like him. Then they got him to wear the circlet and that forced him to go from a causal worshipper to a full blown zealot willing to die for the cause, they didn’t even see him as a person. He also revealed that the religion had uncovered the corpses of both Dio and Jonathan, about the whole reviving their founder and ‘Purifying’ the bloody stars by studying the original bloodstained Star. The bond of bloodline has been tapped into by the cult.

So yea after learning all that they all decided to stop them from doing anything worse they have to find the lab where the experiments are taking place. Joseph accidentally learns about spirit photography in a fit of rage. They discovered the location (similar to cannon) and Jotaro, Joseph, Avdol, and Kakyoin(he wants to confront the people in his religion) head to Egypt.

But the cult of Dio will not let them taint their holy ground without a fight, they will do what they can to stop the, from reaching their destination.

Thanks for reading ('ω')

[overpoweredcacti]

CME 17x10 thoughts (and prayers)

Jesus Christ I’m finally home after accidentally sabotaging my own morning (okay sabotage may be harsh. I have a job now that I signed all the necessarily paperwork lol but I had to go around the city for hours. This Pacific time Midnight airtime is ridiculous, that’s 9 am for me. By then I usually have to pretend to be a functioning adult human being).

I don’t really do this usually, but it is the finale, so. I will try my hand and liveblogging. This will be long.

Some preliminary thoughts though:

I think Church and Jade both survive and it’s Mila who dies

I just don’t see any of the main cast dying. Maybe Rossi, but this show is attached to its actors so much that this would only happen if Joe wanted out, and I’m not sure I can see that happening?

the last Gold Star Peter B. is most probably Peter Bailey

I don’t trust Phil Coulson the Director

Voit has to die. I think. Narratively he just can’t live. So my guess is that he will be killed (maybe on FBI higher up orders) and it will be framed as a suicide. But the BAU would obvious know that doesn’t match his profile cue S18

Well then.

55 minutes hmm, okay. I thought we would get at least an hour, there’s so much going on.

Connection Lost. For all of them??

20 minutes Rebecca and Garcia has been sitting in that office, waiting. That does wonders for someone’s nerves I bet

needs to reboot the system (“have you tried turning it off and on again?” xd)

I’M sorry they didn’t know the building just fucking exploded? xdxd

also still Minimal Loss vibes

okay but everyone seemed fine on the promo pics (minus Emily) so how if they all exploded

I don’t buy it lol

halluciVoit is back

the team is okay

okay see. how lucky do you have to be though to survive an explosion without a scratch

unless they pull a Dallas and the next 30 minutes is just Dave dying and dreaming shit lol that would be iconic

okay Mila surrendered maybe she’s not dying. But how does Rossi get rid of the head wound?

oooh okay so it is a kidnapping situation. Because Jade still thinks the BAU is in cahoots with Church

“you’ve been charged with pedophilia” love that we are not sugarcoating it lol

OKAY so I didn’t think it would be so abrupt. But okay dude deserved it.

Ooh the shot of the dripping blood as he’s carted away? Brilliant.

are we about to see Emily get yeeted

that was a very mild blast without the sound effects lol

are you taking some of the voltage? that’s..a choice. I’m also unsure if that would even work

again with the camera, literally shaking off the memory how cool

listen I know we are supposed to be scared for Emily but it’s Emily. Not even she looks phased lol

holy shit the writing remembers past events. Unbelievable

okay I was recently talking about Person of Interest so that’s probably why the scene is in my mind, but whoever knows about it: This is straight up Vigilance and Control in the mock trial in S3

okay so since Peter B. is most definitely Bailey I’m guessing that’s how Emily will eventually get through to them? By the fact the she knew Doug?

criminal mastermind Brian Garrity reveal when

are you serious? that’s a prison? That’s a vacation home. I've slept in worse places that I paid for

HE HAS A MICROWAVE?

is this actually a thing in America? Okay not my business but damn

“the only thing I miss is you” VoitxRossi is sailing

yes it’s definitely Doug’s brother

yeeah

see that’s a problem because I’m pretty sure Emily holds herself responsible too xd

“does this body language tell you anything” yeah that you’re a fucker

lil bro kinda low key looks like a young Jonathan Groff

so where were you at the funeral? flashback to Emily meeting the parents but not him I’m guessing?

okay flashback but not about that

“really?” “No,” xdxdxdxdx pls. yes. thank you. OG moment. God. Love that

“You scream only child.” Emily. You’re an only child.

"I have a sister" No you don’t. Where did that come from.

Okay was she manipulating him or did they just drop this out of nowhere breaking 17 seasons of previous lore because both are a legitimate possibility.

“why weren’t you at Doug’s funeral” thank you

yeah see I like that this is coming back. Because the DOJ really dropped the ball on Benjamin Reeves

all that said Clark Gregg is still suspicious

so the teenager who is rebellious and anti-government gets into juvie where the government paid private military company trains him to be an assassin through abuse. Nice job there xd

“I’m not threatening your career” love the energy

you literally didn’t have to keep any of that from the BAU though.

THAT’s when you knew you had a crisis? Bruh

“a pilates instructor” xdxd Rebecca’s wit is underappreciated tbh

“he may or may not have information” “fuck you” 💀

are we having a discussion about the real life confines of four dimensional chess. My guy that’s a meme.

Aww JJ basically admitting they are going to get fucked over but hey it’s Emily, they gotta

“he wanted to wear comfy clothes” this bitch.

“back at it like a crack addict” you know what I retroactively would like to witness the birth of lines like this in the writer’s room

 I mean yeah sure but child trafficking does exist tho xd

okay they are cute…

“god forbid you end up on that wall” uff.

aaah you were taking the photos. But who were the guys working for you? I was absolutely sure it was Church. He had the resources, you don’t

see this is where the conspiracy theory conversations become a bit funny, because Emily is completely right, they are about amplification of fear, doubt etc. Also they help reconcile with events that we can’t make logical sense of. It’s honestly an incredibly human thing to do and they have always been around, they are not new.

That said when you introduce shit like the FBI or the CIA a lot of things that used to be “conspiracy theories” have since been reveled to have been true 💀 so people being distrustful towards these organizations are not that unreasonable when you think about it. And even in-universe the BAU has done shady shit? So.

“babe” xdxd okay so maybe Jade is dying. They have built her up to be sympathetic but they are slowly losing that angle narratively? Slowly tho

oh? is that how we’ll get to the bottom of BAUgate?

“Jenny”. can JJ slap him, just once?

the way everyone is so done with him

sometimes I do like Tyler

bit of a CGI house there lol

not Garcia psyching him out

chocolate thunder

oh, Oh?

“I put you in” I?. I??

oh my god. no. that’s vile. even within an already vile context. people have been pointing out the similarities but jesus christ

okay Emily is doing talk no jutsu about Doug

told you she does feel responsible

oooh. oh.

where do people buy so much C4

(hypothetically of course)

yeah I mean obviously not going to happen. But I get the plan there

also the team either knows that’s the endgame of they are just being very optimistic about Emily still being alive lol

of course it’s a trap. Was that really such a big revelation Dave xd

“who think we are the enemy” Tara. Babe. You kind of are to them xd

okay maybe they will survive this. Or Pete might. Jade could still kill herself. Or each other.

yeah she knows 😭

Radiohead?

passive aggressive action report

thank you for calling him out on this

no I still don’t trust Clark Gregg

is Emily going to low key blackmail the Director xd that would be very stupid. And also incredibly in character

yeah they have pretty much said it before that Tyler would be the “next generation”

“Hooray you’re alive” xd

Rebecca just got a haircut? She looks nice. But how much time had passed then.  

“the shoes” 💀 that’s so fair

oh his “ghost” just standing in the bg

okay so he either escapes, in which case the showrunners completely lied about leaving him behind in S18 lol or he dies. Maybe he gets shanked. A girl can dream

I was joking xdxdxdx 💀

uff not the bleach

oh my god he really got shanked. holy shit

I mean yes thank you

but holy shit

so we have zero idea on what happens in S18. Zero. that’s nice.

Okay, closing thoughts. It was a good episode, but a bit underwhelming on the conspiracy side of things? And as a finale? I mean they kept saying how it’s “bigger than we thought” but it really wasn’t? Also it kind of takes away from the suspense that we know none of these characters are ever dying lol But ultimately it did close off loose ends. But I really would have appreciated some implication that Voit was killed on someone’s orders to continue some kind of a plot thread? Realistically the writers probably haven’t decided on that yet lol Did like that we acknowledged that the Gold Star kids were victims but…at the end of the day who was the perpetrator?

No, I still don’t trust Clark Gregg. Also can we get back to Emily having a sister what is that about

[runwayrunway]

No. 4 - jetBlue

Last time on Runway Runway, I covered all 19 of the things jetBlue paints on the tails of their planes. That post was by nature of its concept so long that I didn’t actually have time to discuss the livery itself. But I can’t just spend such a long time looking at their planes and not do that, can I? Especially not when they’re at least a sixth of the air traffic where I live. 

So, enough buildup. Let’s remember that all those tails are attached to the rest of an airframe. 

I really like jetBlue. They’re among my favorite airlines to fly with, and they name their planes things that are funny. I live in a jetBlue focus city and it’s fun seeing all their planes with their varied tails and their ridiculous names parked all around like a flock of extremely silly seagulls. There’s just one problem: 

I do not particularly like their livery. 

Okay. Here is a jetBlue plane. Relatively normal one. Just picked whichever one I stumbled on first. Painted exactly the same as all their planes have been for the last 23 years. She’s got all the bells and whistles. There’s the billboard logo in a nice legible font with its catchy lowercaseUppercase styling. Text on the tail somehow is the right combination of legible and out of place that it feels like a watermark rather than a part of the livery, but nobody’s perfect. Pleasing combination of blue shades. Ribbon variant of jetBlue’s signature jellybean tails. Definitely an airplane. Doesn’t hurt my eyes to look at.

Mostly white though. 

I mean, it could absolutely be worse. Definitely, it could be worse. The fact that there are both light and dark blue shades blends together so if you look from the side you can almost mistake the plane for not being white. It’s still white, though. You can at least see the blue on the belly from the side. It looks clean and intentional. It just...is mostly white with a fully blocked off tail? I don’t know. I feel like maybe the design process was ‘the tails are interesting enough, we should leave the fuselage mostly alone’ but I’m not entirely sure I agree. Yes, it could be overwhelming if the execution was botched, but it could also be better than the way it looks now. You miss 100% of the shots you don’t take. I think Tex Johnston said that. 

Oh, huh, there goes N3104J “Roses are Red, This Plane is Blue” flying right past my house as I type this. I had to check on FR24 to know the registration and all that but I could at least tell she was a jetBlue plane because I could see the blue underside and vague blue of the tail. If she were directly above me I don’t think I would be able to tell her apart from the Delta planes that also come here a lot, but jetBlue’s planes are at least somewhat distinctive from the vantage point of someone in the Northeast US. Mission somewhat accomplished? 

It’s just...lacking pizzazz and I would expect more from the airline with a plane named “FuhgeddaBlueDit”. At the same time, it does...it’s certainly designed somewhat. It feels less like they just hopped on the bandwagon and more like they made a design they genuinely thought was the best for them and it happened, by pure coincidence, to be the same thing everyone else was doing. Good equation, bad result, if you will. I think, honestly, she is...

Down in the deep blue...C. 

Mmm...yep. Seems like that’s it. I’m done here. Unless...oh, oh no. I remember now. I’m not even close to done. 

[nymusings]

thank you so much for such a comprehensive ask! i feel like ik a lot more little details about the city now that i wouldn’t have known otherwise — tysm<33

but if it’s not a bother, i just wanted to ask — what do you mean by this bit? “There's a lot going on politically within the uni at the moment, with gender liberation (especially trans rights, which sucks for me as a trans person)” i… am also trans, but i’ve not transitioned or come out (my family is quite transphobic, and my city doesn’t have the resources for trans stuff as far as im aware), so i was hoping to come out and transition after i move out and go to uni. but from what you say here, it sounds like if i do end up being accepted here, it might be safer to stay in the closet? i’m so sorry to ask this — i know it’s not a fun thing to talk abt. i’m just a bit stressed— since i do know people who live in the city and are doing well, but none of them r trans unfortunately.

also— i’m sorry, i promise i’m not trying to just dredge up the negatives😭😭 but ahhvwnegdjd there’s a housing crisis / cost of living crisis / overcrowded classes and courses / timetabling issues / assessment feedback issues?? i know, sadly, that none of this is unique just to Edinburgh, but i didn’t actually realise the city and uni were having all of these problems specifically. i’m sorry if this is a stupid question, but instead of asking you a whole lot, i guess i’d just love to know— is it… bad? as in, in your experience, worse than other unis have it?/if you could go somewhere else would you, that kinda thing. The timetabling issues sound crazy (6hrs of classes?!!) but i feel like i could deal w/ that, but oof, assessment feedback stuff? what’s your experiences w/ that been like, if any? i’m just not from a place where they really prepare us for uni (well, they do, just — my country’s school system and unis work very differently to those in the uk), so i feel like w/out feedback i might end up falling behind lol.

also!! yep, i did mean eng lit, not english languag — thank you SO much for so much of detail on all of that! it cleared up so many questions i didn’t realise i had. like seriously, your ask was so sweet and comprehensive, of course definitely no pressure to answer whatever is going on in this one😭😭

hi again!!! so sorry for answering so late, im only on tumblr every now and then at the minute.

about the trans stuff, I was in the exact same situation as you. I had the same idea with transitioning once I moved to uni and honestly, there will be pros and cons with doing that no matter where you go. At UoE specifically, there has been a lot of controversy surrounding multiple attempted screenings of Adult Human Female with it recently being found that the uni actually paid for an external security company to make sure the event went forward. Recently a trans-exclusionary LGB activist managed to secure a major role within the university. The Trans and Nonbinary Officer did step down in protest of both of these events, and the position is still unfortunately vacant.

HOWEVER there are a lot of positives to being out as trans (even if its just to your friends) at the university, such as:

The Gender Liberation Society which meet every Monday in Appleton Tower

The Gender Empowerment Fund which allows you access to packers/binders/wigs/any trans apparel you might need (with a limit of £150)

You can change your name on the University of Edinburgh system on your own (via EUCLID) so that your real/preferred name is the one on class registers, instead of your birth/dead name

Lots of tutors will as everyone to specify their pronouns at the first meeting, so you'll never feel targeted

There's trans flags spray painted on walls all across old town LMAO

GET A GP AS SOON AS YOU MOVE HERE! The waiting list for the gender identity clinic REQUIRES a GP referral and the wait list is only <2 years long!

(in comparison, Glasgow's is >5 years!)

All in all, the issues with trans stuff has to do more with the admin of the university rather than the people who actually matter to you. You'll find the admin of the uni suck the most more than anyone else at everything. Most of the normal people at the university are very understanding and polite about you being trans (one of my friends actually forgot I was trans once, straight up just thought I was a guy which was very flattering lmao).

In my opinion, it is very worth it coming out. There are people who have your back.

About all of the other stuff, though the University are at fault for not doing enough to help, often everyone affected works together to make it as easy a life as possible. If you are struggling with timetabling, or how full your classes are, or if the amount of assessments you have are driving you up the wall, there is always someone you can contact. In order of who you should contact first:

Your Student Advisor: they can help point you in the right direction and provide notes that can be used at the end of the year to apply for Special Circumstances (if, say, mental health or financial issues, etc, got in the way of your studies)

The Listening Service at the Chaplaincy

The Advice Place

Student Counselling service

Wellbeing officer

and im sure there are more but I've not had to go past this step

About housing-- it is a country-wide issue, but very apparent in the bigger cities like Glasgow and Edinburgh. Even some of my family in London have shared the same sentiment ("If an agency offers you a flat, just take it. It doesn't matter if it doesn't suit our needs, we can't afford to be picky.") Students at UoE have protested the University's lack of involvement in ensuring that students will not go homeless ESPECIALLY since they are taking on a significantly higher amount of students (especially international). There is really nothing that can be done about this, BUT I have heard of undergrads making friends with 4th years and taking over their flat at the end of the year when the 4th years graduate. That's always an option. Again, there is also the Co-op, but it is very competitive.

If we are to compare UoE to other universities, by far and large it is still better academically than most. The reputation is phenomenal and people will wow you whenever you tell them where you study. Being from Glasgow, it was a competition between the two of those Uni's for me, and I do feel like I made the right choice coming to Edinburgh despite all of its flaws. Remember, the university isn't your entire life -- the city can be part of it, too. It really just depends what you're looking for from both the university and life outside of it. I don't think I would have gone anywhere else (unless I could afford Oxbridge lmao). I don't want it to sound like I hate the uni, sure, it is frustrating, but I just want to be as open and honest with you about it as possible so that you truly know what you are getting into.

If you want any actually decent feedback, schedule office hours with your tutor/lecturer and talk with them about it there. The written stuff tends not to help me at all, I need to be verbally told what went wrong and how to improve. The written feedback tends to be more harsh than helpful, and doesn't help me understand where I lost marks.

Scotland's university system is also different to the rest of the UK (yay devolved government), meaning you will do 4 years of a degree instead of 3, and a bunch of other stuff that isn't coming to mind rn lol. School's don't prep us for uni that much either, except for if you do Advanced Highers (which I did for Eng Lit). They are technically the equivalent to first year of university (which I agree with).

[keicordelle]

The Daily Inconveniences of an Au Ra: Recognizability

Being an Au Ra in Eorzea meant that, by definition, he had no anonymity. Oh, people feigned not recognizing him sometimes, offering him half-hearted comments like, "You don't look like you're from around here," or "Do you happen to know anyone who might be strong enough to...". But, as he'd encountered only a handful of other Au Ra in his time in Eorzea, and most of them living as discretely as possible, he really doubted that anyone on the continent hadn't heard his description. "Seven fulms tall with horns and a tail" was rather hard to miss, he judged, no matter the polite games strangers played.

Sometimes it worked to his advantage. He hadn't had to pay for an ale in many moons, and he was pretty well guaranteed work any time he needed it just by showing up somewhere. But most of the time... Most of the time his uniqueness was a burden.

Most problematic as an adventurer was that it made espionage and subtlety absolutely impossible. He couldn't blend in with a crowd if his life depended on it - and occasionally it did. Any enemies could pick him out a mile away, and forget trying to surreptitiously inquire about anything. No one was likely to forget that a giant lizard had come to ask about their boss's comings and goings, and it wasn't like he could pretend to be an inhabitant of any city on this continent. He could maybe have gotten away with it back in Othard, where at least Au Ra were relatively common, so long as no one thought too hard about the fact that his horns were black, not white.

At least it let him pretend that people were afraid of his reputation and not his alien appearance when they shrank from him at first meeting. The wide-eyed stares and pointing fingers of children in the streets were obviously because he was a great adventurer and not just because he was big and pointy and scaled. No matter that after years of relative isolation on the Steppe, several of the other races were equally unusual to him (what even was the deal with Miqo'te? Why did their tails have fur, but nowhere else on their bodies seemed to? And Viera, who had the ears of a rabbit but no other shared traits that he could see. Did they have little cottontails tucked into their pants?). At the very least, it made him far more willing to work with the so-called 'beast tribes' than any Eorzean he'd ever met. So what if they looked and acted a little different? Everything over here was bizarre anyway, and most would say the same about him. The main difference between Xaela and Amalj'aa that he could see what's the number of scales on their bodies - and that the latter had an even worse time blending in than he did. At least his stature was still within the realm of reasonability in a land where Roegadyn also flourished.

"Keshet?"

The sound of his name in the middle of a bustling street in Ul'dah should not have surprised him, but he still jumped. Sighing, he tugged off the hood that he'd pulled down over his face in an attempt to achieve anonymity and twisted to face the white haired Elezen who'd called out to him. "Hello Alphinaud."

The boy took in the cloak that covered his usual outfit and the tail Keshet had tucked under its folds and winced apologetically. "My apologies, were you attempting to disguise yourself?"

"Attempting and failing, it would seem," he responded wryly.

Alphinaud offered him a sympathetic smile. "Your horns leave quite an imprint against the hood, and the base of your tail juts out against the fabric. And I'm sorry to say that even without any of that, your gait will always give you away to those who are familiar with you." He cocked his head. "Why were you trying to hide your identity anyway?"

Cheeks heating, Keshet looked away. "I didn't want to be recognized while standing in line for the release of the new Wind-Up Scions toys," he mumbled. "I'm still missing Urianger."

Alphinaud coughed to cover the bark of laughter the admission elicited. "You- Ah. That is. Understandable. However, I think your disguise unlikely to succeed."

Taking a deep breath, Keshet rolled his shoulders and stripped off the cloak. "Then if I cannot hide, I shall simply have to be so unabashedly confident that none would think to question my presence." Ah well. In truth, hiding and subterfuge never became him anyway. And maybe his reputation would be enough to let him skip the line and finish off his collection.

Read the rest of the series on Ao3!

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[soir-rouges-esprit]

xxvii.e: Soul Quench, cracking the casing ... Oops. I back away from the car, and turn myself around, to see a feral Imp absolutely beating the shit out of The Jester, punching him directly in the face about a million times. Then after he is aching in pain and shifting around on the floor my grabbing his face out of protection from the savage beat down he got, she gets up … kicks him in the dick, sending him into a fetal position making him release a high pitch grunt … and says “Gooooo FUCK YOURSELF LESSER. And do not touch me again, or I’ll rip your goddamn balls off next time.” She walks over to me, grabs my wheelchair again and slowly pushes me out of the parking complex. Does this mean you won custody mom? “S-shut up, not from you too.” We roll past The Jester. Thanks for coming to get me … get better … looooove you. I waved goodbye while looking back … he continued to bare his head in his hands in the fetal position while breathing heavily. We get to M’s car, she loads me into the passenger and folds my wheelchair into the trunk of her car, hops in, backs out, and starts to drive out of the hospital parking lot … on the way out, we pass a Jester limping out of a Parking Complex, lightly grabbing his junk … he looked up at M and her car, flips the bird and yelled although muffled from inside the car “FUCK YOU IMP!!! … I’M GONNA KILL YOUR ASS FOR THIS.” “*Sigh* *Click*” she flipped a little lever, and blasted the sinner with Holy High Beams from her car, definitely lightly blinding him considering his reaction of “OWWW FUCK!!!” whilst covering his eyes with his arm. “Oops … wrong button *Click*” She clicked the button again on her center console, turning off the high beams, then clicked the button on the opposite side of her steering wheel, to turn on the headlights. “Oh look at that! … silly me, it was that button.” I rolled my eyes at her while shaking my head. So what now? “We’re heading home.” and where is that exactly? “My place … you’re gonna stay with me, I’ll watch over you.” I see … and so … I’m to just, sit around in an ivory tower, waiting for my would-be murderer to find out I lived and then come find me again … where then he’ll find not just me, but you? “It doesn’t matter.” her face dropped any glee she had from torturing The Jester, to a serious stern look. “If you don’t stay with me … who else are you gonna go to huh? Sam’s would be worse, The Knight had to leave The City and can’t host you, your mother or your Oma’s place would also be just a barrel for one wheelchaired fishy to be shot in. I’m the best bet … you know it so don’t argue, plus I can provide for you better than they can anyway … it’d be a burden on them both, where It’s a privilege for me.” thanks for saying I’m a burden on my family, very nice. “You are! In your current state … get real with me, don’t be like that please … you know I’m right ok.” … I look out the window, and we sit in silence for a good couple of minutes. “Look … I’m sorry. I know your situation is shit, and … there's a lot going on, more than I'm even aware of, as perusal with you … but please … don't be mad at me, I'm trying to offer at least a safer place than your other current options to stay, so you can … so We can figure this out together if you even want my help that is.” I know why you're doing this M … you don't have to explain yourself “You seem off though …  something isn't right here and I can feel it.” Lots of things are “off” M … its not all necessarily bad, but things aren't sittin pretty here. “What happened that night? Why were you in that rain canal? … I talked again with The Ripper … she said you looked like hell, and there was just this … look in your eye, like you were just … dead.” Well as you can see *I raised my arms up and out* as to show off my body. I'm still … alive. I drop my arms in a very low-effort way, as if they were dead weight ... [To Be Continued]

[sleepyowlwrites]

FTWT CCCLXV

I need to make a new "have a good time" playlist. but not right now. right now I'm doing a tag. from @talesofsorrowandofruin and @ashen-crest (some of these tags are so old gadzooks)

water (the sleepy stash)

“You do not love me.”

“I do not love you enough.”

And it hurt worse, this exchange, it stung much more to know that there was yet a little water here to drink, but not enough that one of us did not have to refrain, and thus, wither.

Better there had been no love, no water, and therefore no languishing. I turned from the drink, for it mocked me, and took my leave.

wait (summon story d0)

Zan deposited the firewood beside the stove. “They’re a monster, definitely.”

Shae hit the back of his head lightly. “Don’t be mean. They’re a good person. And the ibsin has kept up its side of the deal. Wryn doesn’t seem unhappy to have it.”

“Not that we would know, if they were.” Zan stared gloomily at the fire until Shae tugged him away. “How is Wryn going to manage, when they’re not them anymore?”

“I don’t know,” Shae said patiently, forcing him onto a chair. “We’ll just have to wait and see. Now cut up those vegetables.”

weapon (summon story supplemental)

“You’re mad to do that out in the open.”

Shae whirled around, one foot dragging through the ashes behind her, destroying the effectiveness of the array in seconds.

The voice had come from above her, a lump of shadow perched on the roof. The lump shifted and stretched, finding form while accompanied by the sound of bone on stone. Shae rolled her shoulders uncomfortably as the figure dropped down in a coordinated heap. As per usual, Shae had nothing on hand except her ruby knife, which she was loathe to use as a weapon.

weekly

wheel (that game where you go around in a circle and each write one sentence of a story and afterwards laugh so hard you cry)

Long ago in a space village there was a purple monkey. The monkey's name was Frederic Zebo II. He was the captain of the starship Zagoth. But his ship had no steering wheel. I can't describe what happened next. Just kidding, the ship crashed and everyone in it had a great bounce. They crawled out of the ship and saw a rubber duck army sergeant. This sergeant was the greatest duck in the force and an expert marksman. But the duck had lost his arms/wings in battle and was confined to a wheelchair. I wish social workers took care of him from henceforth on, but the government budget was slashed and he lived in solitude. The End.

seek (seafarer, searcher, 2021)

I knew the maps were faulty That there were treasures to be claimed I knew that I could find them If I sought and hoped and prayed I set off to seek my fortune But what I found was greater yet I came home with maps aplenty Of all the places that we met

no (city story d0)

“So then,” Jet feels his sentences slip-sliding around his head and scrambles to catch them. “You don’t really need me to stay over, or come and haunt me at my place?”

Rune echoes his sigh. “Having other people stay over at my apartment is for them, not me.”

Jet processes that. “So when it’s me, it’s for you?”

“Yeah. I told you, I feel safe with you around.”

It’s like Yarrow isn’t even there. Jet half-expects him to jump into the conversation. He doesn’t, just listens with his eyes on the sky.

“But do you then feel unsafe with other people around?”

“No.” Rune puts her hand out and up over her head. Jet accepts it but doesn’t do the holding. “I feel neutral, I guess. I feel like I’m the protector, and I know I can do that, so I just- I don’t know. I don’t feel anything. Or I feel everything. I’m aware. I don’t have to be aware of things around you.”

decline

floor (city story d0)

“Why are there two of you?” Rune also sounds exhausted as she retrieves the pillow and tosses it back over her shoulder where it lands on the floor instead of the couch.

Jet would feel bad about springing this on her except that he can’t feel anything at all. “Shadow was supposed to ask if he could stay over earlier,” he replies with a couple of elbow jabs to Shadow’s side.

Shadow shrugs in such a way that he looks like he’s trying to wrap his shoulders around his chest. “Sorry.”

Rune just holds the door open and walks away. Jet had presumed that she wouldn’t turn them away, and apparently, he’s right. Still. “Sorry,” he repeats as they come inside and shut the door behind them.

dry, fry, cry, try. BONUS: pry, wry. @ambiguouspuzuma @athenswrites @autumnalwalker @aohendo @akindofmagictoo OR ANYBODY