#and if they wanted to go in that direction so be it! it's fine!

[navybrat817]

All Dressed Up

Pairing: Biker!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Summary: Bucky visits a gallery to support his best friend and unexpectedly meets the girl of his dreams.

Word Count: Over 2.3k

Warnings: First meeting, mild dirty thoughts, instacrush, swearing, Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?).

A/N: Okay, lovelies. A new AU. I'm sorry. @targaryenvampireslayer @tavners @starlightcrystalline @whisperlullaby @sgt-seabass @vesearlee , I feel like you all either heard me screech, encouraged, or helped me, and I appreciate you. ❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Edit by the beautiful @nixakimbo and divider by the incredible @firefly-graphics . Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

Bucky didn’t dress up for most people since it wasn’t his style. He would do so for any of his brothers though, especially Steve. His best friend since childhood, and his club’s president, he always had a love and talent for drawing and painting. And after working his ass off on his exhibit it would’ve been a crime for the vice president not to show up.

Steve promised if there was ever a day when Bucky’s writing became published he’d be by his side to celebrate too. As much as they liked to give each other shit sometimes about art and how they created it, the support was there through and through. The only catch for tonight was that he had to dress nicely to get into the gallery. So, instead of the usual leather jacket or vest he wore and jeans, he went with a plain black suit and white button up shirt.

He refused to wear a tie since it wasn’t a wedding. He had to draw a line somewhere. No one paid him any mind though as they walked around the gallery, and he was more than fine with that. This wasn’t his night.

“You should be proud, punk,” Bucky said, looking over the art lining the large wall, each piece crafted with care.

“I am proud, jerk,” Steve smiled. He hadn’t worn a tie either, and it made Bucky feel a little better. “And you know you don’t have to stay the whole time.”

Bucky knew that. He also knew members and prospects would be trickling in and out throughout the evening. “Not needed at the bar tonight, so I can stay as long as I want. But I might cut out early since I see your face enough between that and the club.”

Steve chuckled. “Still haven’t sold the place, huh?”

The brunette sighed. It wasn’t the first time Steve asked if he was going to sell the bar to focus more on writing. “Where the hell would you all hang out if I sold the place?” He liked the bar. It wasn’t just a great hangout for the club, but for his other regulars, too.

“There are other bars,” Steve teased. He said that, but he loved the bar, too. “You know I just want you to-”

“Follow my compass. I know. You’ve said that so many…” He stopped talking when he saw an unexpected angel walk into the room.

Well, angel was the word that came to mind since you were wearing a white dress and the light over your head illuminated you like a halo. But as his eyes swept over you, he wondered if there was a bit of a devil in you. He wouldn’t mind bringing that side out of you if you gave him the chance.

And here he used to think love at first sight was bullshit.

“Hey. Do you know her?” Bucky subtly nodded in your direction as you spoke to another woman, jealousy flaring up for a second at the thought of his best friend knowing you and not telling him. And if you knew Steve, that was that before things even started. While the blonde didn’t have much game growing up, he came into his own after his growth spurt, and everyone adored or wanted him.

Steve shook his head. “No, I don’t,” he said, making Bucky’s shoulders slump in relief before his friend scrutinized him. “Jesus, are you eye fucking her? You are, aren’t you?”

Bucky wasn’t the least bit ashamed. “And I’ll keep doing it ‘til she looks at me,” he replied, wishing you’d at least spare him a glance and get a look at him in his nice suit. Maybe you weren’t into guys with tattoos and piercings, but he was certain he could change your mind if that was the case.

“How long has it been since you’ve been on a date?” Steve asked. “Just introduce yourself like a gentleman and see where that goes.”

“A couple of months? Something like that.” Tearing his gaze away to glance at his inked hands, he chuckled. “You think I’m a gentleman?”

He could be dangerous and downright dirty when the occasion called for it, but just because he rode a motorcycle and covered himself in tattoos and piercings didn’t mean he treated others poorly. He was raised better than that. Even with his ex-girlfriends, things never ended because he didn’t treat them well. They just weren’t the one.

“We both know you are. Sometimes,” Steve answered, smirking as a beat passed. “And she’s looking your way.”

Bucky’s head snapped up to find you looking right at him with a curious stare. You had the prettiest eyes he had ever seen. Which was nothing compared to your smile. It was like watching the sun slowly rise to meet the day.

Fuck, he was being sappy. You ruined him with a single stare, and he wanted to ruin you in return. Make it so you wouldn’t want another man.

You whispered something to the woman beside you before she nudged you forward and he realized Steve pushed him to move, too. It only took three more steps before he was right in front of you, the gentle smell of your sweet perfume filling his nostrils. Need slammed into his body as you smiled again, and he actually felt the blue of his eyes shrink as his pupils widened.

If Steve thought he was eye fucking you before…

“Hey,” he said, his voice raspier than usual.

“Hi,” you said. It was a voice he could listen to for hours and he wondered what it would sound like when you said his name.

“I’m Bucky.” He took a smaller step closer, trying his damnedest to block out any other man around him so you’d keep those pretty eyes on him.

You introduced yourself, too, and it was a name he would never forget. “I like your tattoos,” you added almost shyly. Almost.

If he had his way, you’d see the rest of them soon enough. “Thanks,” he smiled, holding one hand up to show you. “Dressed like this, I bet you think I’m part of the mob.” After getting dressed and adding the gold jewelry, even he thought for a split second he looked like a mobster.

“Are you or is that information I can’t be privy to?” you asked, making him chuckle. You didn’t skip a beat, and he liked that.

“Not part of the mob, but I am part of a motorcycle club,” he replied. He wore his patch with pride and that didn’t seem to scare you, which was good. “I also own a bar.” He didn’t know why added that part. You didn’t ask and he didn’t want to brag, but there he was.

“So, you ride a motorcycle, and you own a bar?” You glanced back at your friend to ask her, “Do you mind if I…”

“I’m good. You two talk,” your friend smiled, giving Bucky an encouraging wink. He looked back to find that Steve walked away, too.

You smiled as you faced Bucky again. “Well, I’m happy to hear more about either of those things if you have time.”

“Yeah.” A lopsided smile appeared before he could stop it. “I got time,” he said. All the time in the world.

Over the next hour, the two of you stayed close together and talked in between looking at Steve’s pieces. He told you he was there to support Steve and talked a little bit more about the bar he owned. A hole in the wall kind of place he fixed up. While he wasn’t a big drinker, he loved making them for his regulars, and his profession allowed him to get away with all the tattoos.

“I’ll have to stop by sometime,” you smiled before it faltered. “If that’s okay.”

He didn’t want to get his hopes up, but his heart raced, and he wanted to see you smile again. “I’ll hold you to that,” he teased. “What about you? What do you do for work?”

You told him that you were a blood bank nurse and still fairly new to the area. While you didn’t have too many friends nearby, you liked your neighborhood and the one friend you had made invited you to the gallery since she was an art enthusiast. You also let it slip that you were single upon your move here, which he was happy to hear since he was, too, but he didn’t miss the note of sadness in your voice.

He could help fix it if you were lonely.

“I’m not seeing anyone either,” he stated.

You raised an eyebrow in disbelief. “You don’t have an old lady?” His eyes went right to your lip when he bit it. “That is the correct term of endearment, right?”

“That’s right,” he said, his eyes soft. “Both of those things are right.”

You bit your lip again and he wasn’t sure if you were purposely trying to entice him, but now he wanted to bite your lip. “So, do you do anything for fun outside of riding and work?”

He almost groaned when you said “riding” and he had to shake his head to keep his mind from drifting. He couldn’t think of you being on his bike with your arms wrapped tight around him or you riding him or anything like that. “Well…”

He explained that he wrote a bit in his spare time outside of work and the club. It was a hobby mostly, but it would be a dream come true to get his work out there one day. If not, that was okay, too, because he had a decent life and didn’t need much. His bike, his brothers.

But to have an old lady…

“Maybe I could read…” you frowned when you saw the time. “Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t realize how late it was. I should get going,” you said, disappointment filling both of you.

“Oh.” He scratched the back of his neck. The two of you were having a nice talk, and he hadn’t had a chance to ask about your hobbies yet. “It’s still kinda early. Do you really have to go?” he asked, realizing just how desperate he sounded. God, if the prospects could hear him right now… He just didn’t want the night to end.

“Yeah, I do. I’m actually working a blood drive tomorrow and could use the rest,” you said, smiling sadly. He felt like an ass for asking you to stay when you had work to do. “I don’t know if you’ve heard anything about it, but you’re welcome to stop by if you want to donate. I always have this fear that people won’t show, which I realize sounds ridiculous.”

Bucky mentally kicked his ass for not knowing about a local blood drive. He was usually more on top of those sorts of things. “Where’s it at?” You gave the location and time, which was all he needed. “I’ll be there,” he promised.

And every single club member would be there, too, if they knew what was good for them.

“Really?” you smiled, your hand bumping his when you turned to face him. “You’ll go?”

He let his fingers brush yours and he smiled to himself when he felt the light shiver. “Of course, doll.”

“Doll?” you giggled. He hoped he didn’t offend you. “I hope you show,” you added in a small voice, your gaze focused on the ground.

Frowning a bit, he wondered if you didn’t believe him. Did someone let you down before? “If I say I’ll be there…” He lifted your chin, so you’d look into his eyes. He needed you to see the truth in them. “I’ll be there.”

You exhaled, staring deeply into his eyes. “I’ll see you tomorrow then,” you whispered.

He grudgingly released you, knowing he had to. Besides, if he kept touching you, there was a good chance he’d pin you against the wall and show you what a work of art you were. “Good night,” he whispered, watching you go back to your friend. She linked her arm with yours as you glanced back, keeping your eyes on Bucky until you were out of sight.

He exhaled, mentally kicking his ass again. Why the fuck didn’t he ask for your number? You two hit it off, and you wanted to see him at least in some capacity beyond the blood drive, right?

Steve made a beeline for him as he stayed rooted to the spot. “It looks like you two hit it off. You know you didn’t even say hi to Chris or Sam or-”

“We’re going to a blood drive tomorrow,” he cut in. He hoped people would show, but he gave you his word he’d be there, and the club was all about giving back to the community.

The blonde’s eyebrows pinched. “I’m sorry, what?”

“Blood drive. Tomorrow. Everyone,” he said, giving his friend a hard stare. “You’re the president. Make it happen.”

“You’re the vice president, which means you supervise plans for club events or gatherings. That includes last minute things,” he pointed out, his eyebrows shooting up as Bucky got his phone out and typed quickly. “You’re serious about this?”

“Is it too much to say, ‘You better fucking be there or you’ll pay for it later’?”

The blonde grinned. A shit-eating, knowing grin, and he wanted to smack him. “This is all for her, isn’t it?”

Bucky sighed. He hadn't expected to meet someone so perfect tonight. “She’s a nurse and I wanna help. Besides, it’s good for the community and you’re all about that shit.” And he had to make a better impression after not asking for your number. “Will you at least promise you’ll be there?”

“To watch my whipped best friend fawn over a pretty nurse? Hell yeah.”

“Beautiful,” he corrected him. “She’s beautiful.”

And while Bucky would fawn over you tomorrow, he also hoped he’d get your number.

So, what do we think so far? Part of this writing style was slightly different for me, but I like how it turned out! I still need to give this reader a nickname and the AU a name, but this is a start. I can't wait for the whole club to show up at the blood drive. I also have something silly and cute planned for these two. ❤️ Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[retrosabers]

𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐦𝐞, 𝐭𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮.

FICMAS DAY 3: GIFT-GIVING

bucky barnes x fem!reader

summary: as bucky’s secret santa, you’re determined to give him the best christmas present he’s ever received.

contains: grumpy buck fluff, some angst, idiots who are crushing hard, swearing

word count: 2.4k

a/n: this is a long one i’m apologizing in advance

i am SO SORRY for crickets in the ficmas department the past week, i hit a big brick wall with this and i’ve been so all over the place with my own holiday planning and such that i ended up having to cut the masterlist in half because i knew i couldn’t get it all done. i’m very sorry to anyone who was looking forward to what got scrapped, but i couldn’t bring myself to rush through writing and put out something i don’t believe it my best work.

also, do people even want avengers fix it fics anymore?? i debated between the “everything is fine the team lives at the compound together” vibe and setting this post tfatws, but ultimately decided the former was easier to write. and i think it worked in my favor because this turned out really cute :)

!! divider by @strangergraphics !!

FICMAS MASTERLIST

your heart feels like it’s going to burst out of your chest.

who’s idea was this again? wanda? tony? steve? it didn’t matter anymore. all that mattered right now was that you didn’t pass out in the elevator. a feat that was becoming more and more difficult the closer you got to your destination.

a secret santa is supposed to bring you joy, not near paralyzing anxiety.

at first, you were 100% on board with participating in a gift exchange. as much as you wanted to shower all of your teammates with presents galore, not everyone shared the same sentiment, and thus the idea of a secret santa was proposed.

excitement courses through your veins as you reach your hand into the cheap santa hat tony grabbed from god knows where in storage, with little pieces of paper containing the names of your fellow avengers. you decided to wait until you were back in the privacy of your room to open it up, afraid of any wandering eyes taking a peak. the last thing you wanted was the element of surprise to be stripped away. it was half the fun after all.

as sam pulls the last name, you quietly excuse yourself and all but rush upstairs, too eager to get in the holiday spirit and brainstorm. as soon as the door shuts behind you, you hurriedly reveal the contents of the paper.

if it’s natasha, i can get her a pair of ballet slippers. she’s been mentioning how she wants to start dancing again.

what about bruce? maybe a journal for all his ideas? he always seems to be losing sticky notes in the lab.

a million different ideas swirl around in your head, reminding you just how much joy this time of year brings. to you, there was nothing better than seeing the gleeful looks on people’s faces when they opened their gifts. the corners of your mouth turn up at the memory of your first christmas with the team. how shy and reluctant you were, afraid of going overboard. now, a few years later, you’re completely unabashed in showing just how much you care about them.

your bright smile morphs into a deep frown as you unfold the paper.

bucky barnes.

quite possibly the most difficult person you could’ve chosen.

to be clear, there’s nothing wrong with bucky. he may be a bit grumpy and standoffish, but it’s with good reason and you know it. that also doesn’t change the fact that he’s going to be impossible to try and shop for.

what do you get for the man who seemingly despises anything the modern world has to offer? the same man who you’re 99% sure hates your guts. come to think of it, how did you even pull him? he most definitely wasn’t downstairs 20 minutes ago when everyone scribbled down their names and tossed them in tony’s direction.

it was irrelevant now. you were stuck being his secret santa, and you’d be damned if you didn’t give james buchanan barnes the best christmas gift he’s ever gotten in his century-long lifetime.

the two weeks it took to come up with an idea sure felt like a century. if it wasn’t for the concerning amount of snooping you did, you’d probably be showing up empty handed. thankfully, at almost 1 in the morning on a random tuesday, a lightbulb went off in your brain. you scrambled bright and early the next day to go shopping, and by some lucky form of divine intervention, you acquired the perfect gift.

flash forward to now, and you’re carrying an insanely large box up to bucky’s room. in a blatant stray from what the rest of the team was doing, you decided to give him his present one on one, secluded from everyone else. partly because you were afraid of public embarrassment if he hated it, and partly because you knew bucky wasn’t very fond of being put on display.

you hope he’ll at least be grateful for that.

when the elevator finally chimes, signaling you’ve arrived at the dormitory floor, the box nearly slips from your grasp. not just from how heavy it was, but from the nervous sweat coating your palms.

the hallway is quiet enough to hear a pin drop, save for the faint sound of christmas music playing over the speakers. with careful, calculated steps, you make your way down the length of the corridor, dragging your feet the closer you get to bucky’s room. there’s a small part of you that hopes he’s downstairs in the gym, the kitchen, the backyard, anywhere but here. dropping and dashing wasn’t what you had in mind, but the anxious thumping of your heart was becoming unbearable. you know it will only amplify tenfold if you’re forced to stare into those steel blue eyes of his. the thought alone sends a chill down your spine.

you freeze in place when you hear the sound of a door knob clicking open.

please be wanda’s room, please be wanda’s room.

in front of you, the very last door on the left creaks open, revealing the tall and brooding super soldier whose company you were aiming to avoid.

it’s easy to forget how handsome bucky barnes is when he normally does nothing but grimace in your direction.

you still weren’t used to his new haircut, but it was clear he felt significantly more confident with it. is that a hint of aftershave, or cologne? whatever it was, the scent fit him perfectly; cedarwood with a hint of spice. the green henley he wears fits snugly against his broad frame, emphasizing all the muscles you’ve been caught staring at on more than one occasion. for once, he’s not wearing a scowl, though that changes when he catches sight of you.

surely you must look strange, standing dumbfounded in the middle of the hall with a box covered in santa-printed wrapping paper and a big bow that you can barely hold. right now the floor opening up and swallowing you whole was at the top of your wish list. and st. nick better make it quick.

bucky’s expression shifts from one of disdain to curiosity as he quirks a brow wordlessly. your own knit together in frustration, knowing you now had no choice but to do this exchange face to face.

“need any help?” he questions monotonously. as much as you want to be prideful and reject it, your arms feel like they’re going to fall off any second. he seems to catch your drift despite a verbal response, because in the blink of an eye he’s striding towards you, sweeping the gift from your arms and into his own with ease. you try not to gape at the way his biceps strain against fabric.

you stutter out a “thanks,” as you straighten out your sweater. bucky grunts in return and eyes the package in his hands cautiously. you’re half expecting him to shake it like a child when you catch the tiniest twitch of his upper lip.

it’s the closest thing to a smile he’s ever shown in your presence. something that gives you the courage to actually form a sentence instead of continuing to gawk at him.

here goes nothing.

“this is for you, actually,” you manage to shakily breathe out. bucky halts his observations, a glimmer of surprise briefly dancing across his face.

a beat of silence passes between you. “don’t remember asking for anything," he finally says. it’s still laced with his typical dry sarcasm, but there’s a legitimate amusement in his tone that can’t be missed.

you narrow your eyes at him playfully, feeling a little bit more at ease now that he didn’t completely rebuff you.

“i’m your secret santa, smartass,” you jab with your hands on your hips.

for the first time ever, bucky smirks at you.

“don’t recall asking for that either.”

you throw your hands up in defense, offering him a surprisingly nonchalant shrug. “don’t blame me, i’m pretty sure steve was the one who put your name in.”

“punk,” the man grumbles. he shakes his head, attention turning back to the present in hand once more.

despite his apparent annoyance, you can’t seem to stop yourself from continuing on.

“i know you’re supposed to do this kind of thing with everyone around,” you start off shaky, afraid of upsetting him any more than you may already have. his gaze immediately falls to you upon hearing your voice.

“i also know you’re not a big fan of being the center of attention,” you continue, shoving your hands into the pockets of your jeans. “figured you’d like this better if it was in private.”

bucky’s features soften. his jaw unclenched, his eyes not so narrow and judgmental. he looks relieved, flattered; a myriad of things you can’t name or place.

“i appreciate that,” he admits, suddenly shy and impish. for a second, he completely forgets about the gift you brought. the simple fact that you were kind enough to consider his feelings, despite how cold he could be to you, makes his heart skip a beat.

you simply nod your head in reply, teetering back and forth on your feet awkwardly trying to decipher your next move.

“you don’t have to open that right now you know.”

he sets the box down on the floor next to his door. “kinda defeats the purpose don’t you think?”

you shrug. “whatever you’re comfortable with. doesn’t matter what you’re “supposed to do.””

why did you care so much about his comfort level? he hardly showed any concern for yours. the notion consumes his thoughts, prohibiting him from offering anything except a nod of acknowledgement.

that awkward silence comes once again, signaling maybe you’ve overstayed your welcome, or that the moment of peace is over. you check your watch in hopes that father time was ending this exchange for you.

just your luck, he’s right on schedule.

“i uh, better get downstairs,” you announce, pointing your thumb in the direction of the elevator. “don’t wanna miss thor forcing everyone to do christmas karaoke.”

a noise akin to laughter snorts out of bucky’s nose, evoking a delightful warmth in your chest. it was different than all the other times you’ve been flustered in the presence of the super soldier. this was less about intimidation and more about…camaraderie. now wondering if maybe he doesn’t hate you as much as you thought.

it’s exactly what you need to reignite your holiday cheer and shed any remaining worries.

before you can second guess, you turn on your heels, closing the gap between your bodies. wrapping a hand around his arm, his metal arm, and offering a gentle caress, the sincerity in your words is clear as day.

“merry christmas buck.”

your touch burns straight through vibranium all the way to his chest. across his entire body, igniting every cell ablaze. a fire consuming him in ways unimaginable.

and yet. he enjoyed the burn.

as you pull away, much to his dismay, the tips of his fingers brush against the inside of your wrist. goosebumps errupt on your skin, from the cool metal, or that fact that bucky was so pretty this close, only time would tell.

“you too,” he murmurs with a faint grin. the soft crinkles by his eyes are likely going to be the subject of your daydreams for the next week.

you flash him a smile over your shoulder before turning down the hall and averting his gaze, not wanting him to see just how much you were blushing.

while unbeknownst to you, bucky was now a very bright shade of red.

he waits until he can hear the elevator doors close before slipping back into his room and very carefully unwrapping the box. there’s a nervousness in his stomach that’s unfamiliar, but not unpleasant. as the bare brown packaging becomes exposed, he begins ripping back the numerous layers of packing tape. you really took your time on this, he thinks to himself.

that funny feeling only amplifies when he sees the contents of the box.

a record player, a very expensive looking one at that, sits inside with another three wrapped items that he concludes are vinyls, judging from their flatness. on top of it all, there was a small note shrouded in luxe stationary. bucky’s heart stutters when he sees his name scribbled delicately in your handwriting.

his fingers falter briefly before he digs into the envelope.

i know this isn’t like the ones from the 40s, but it’s the closest thing i could find. also got a few of your favorite records, and one i think you’ll like too. don’t forget i have quite a collection of my own in case you ever want to try something new.

merry christmas ♡

bucky unceremoniously plops down on the edge of his bed. the normally stiff feeling mattress now mirrored a sea of clouds and feathers. he’d gladly sink into the abyss of softness, if it meant pumping the brakes on his thundering heartbeat.

from the moment he met you, bucky knew he was in trouble.

you had an aura about you that was magnetic, always drawing people in and bathing them in your light. your unconditional kindness and consideration, hell, even your mere presence in a room seemed to liven it up entirely. it was a hypnotizing, almost dangerous thing for the man, and if there was one thing he knew how to do, it was to push people away. for their sake, and his. bucky was certain that once he started keeping his distance, that you’d eventually give up in trying to crack his tough outer shell, or that the silly feelings he had would disappear.

but right now, as he’s staring at your handwriting and rubbing his thumb repeatedly over that little heart, he knows it was all in vain.

later that night, he stares up at the ceiling, listening to the familiar croon of it’s been a long, long time wafting from his present. he tries to focus on the beauty of the song, or the lights he can see from his window twinkling out on the lawn, but it’s nearly impossible. you’re the subject of all his thoughts. have been since the moment he saw you standing out in the hall. from the scent of your perfume to the little intricacies of your penmanship. the thing that’s plaguing him the most, however, is your hand on his arm.

bucky’s real arm had been gone for over half a century, having stopped experiencing phantom limb syndrome ages ago. yet somehow he felt it there, clear as day. the same tactile sensations on his flesh, right arm, in the metal prosthetic of his left. an electric shock that he’s never recognized before, and that he wouldn’t be opposed to feeling again.

tomorrow, he plans to thank steve for mischievously adding his name into the lottery.

and to ask you about your record collection.

thanks for reading! <3

tag list: @alastor-simp @j4desblurbs @pandapetals

!! if you would like to be tagged in the rest of the ficmas blurbs, please send me an inbox message or leave a comment !!

[bastionofbibliophiles]

For the first 20 years of my life I couldn't get a good night's sleep. I was constantly tired. I would get in bed and toss and turn for literal hours that felt like days because my brain just wouldn't. Turn. Off. And then I'd wake up five hours later, still exhausted but too wired to go back to sleep. I wanted to sleep, but my brain was stuck in 90-miles-an-hour mode and laying in bed is boring which is excruciatingly painful when you have (as I eventually learned I do) ADHD.

After I was diagnosed with ADHD my therapist said that my sleep issues were linked to it and prescribed a medicine to help. Take it 45 minutes before you want to go to bed, she said. So I did. 45 minutes after taking it I got in bed and closed my eyes.

And my brain was quiet. I fell asleep in like 15 minutes and woke up 9 hours later more rested than I had ever been in my entire life. It felt amazing.

As an added bonus, my chronic (I'm talking multiple-times-per-week) migraines went away very-literally overnight once I stopped being constantly sleep-deprived. I cannot overstate how much of an improvement getting medicated was to my quality-of-life.

When I say my brain was "quiet", I don't mean that my mind was dulled. I'm not taking sedatives to sleep. I can still wake up just fine if something happens around me.

To continue the "90-miles-an-hour" metaphor, without medication my brain was like a car with the accelerator pedal welded to the floorboard, the gearshift locked in high-gear, and the key stuck in the ignition with no "Off" position. The only way to not go racing off in some direction was to constantly stand on the brake pedal as hard as possible (leading to burn-out), or turn the steering wheel hard-over and do doughnuts to stay in one place (not going anywhere but unable to sit still), or wait for the gas to run out and the engine to finally sputter to a stop (collapse from exhaustion). Also there's not a lot of torque when you're in high-gear, so it's hard to get moving from a standstill and hard to go uphill or through any resistance.

Getting medicated was like fixing the gas pedal, gearshift, and ignition so I can drive normally at whatever speed is best. I can still go fast if I want to, but I can also slow down and come to a gentle stop, without constantly burning out the brakes and tires. It's a choice now.

bro im gonna CRY i didnt know this 🥺

[bunny-jpeg]

sundays off

toto wolff

tags: smut/pwp, age gap (20s/50s), power dynamic, poorly translated german, lap sex/cowgirl position, oral sex (toto receives), couch sex, unprotected sex

a/n: *makes vague gestures* i wrote this in a back corner of a train heading to see my beloved <3

nothing felt better than a sunday night with no racing. at least that was what you told yourself. the season seemed to stretch on and ended in heartbreak as this was the final races with lewis. while the wound of departure still stung. you were happy for toto to be home.

the place you shared in monaco with your beloved partner. he wasn't your husband yet, and he was far too old to be your boyfriend. so, you were partners. it made you seem like you were crime fighters. but you were certain most crime fighting duos weren't doing this on a sunday night.

"that's it, geliebten. take me as good as you do." his voice tinged with a certain want that made you toes curl as your nose dug into his pelvic area in an attempt to deep-throat him.

you were toto's beloved, underneath all the pet names and heavy touches, you were the center of toto's universe. it was to such a degree that he couldn't have you on the track too often. it was fine at monaco or austria. that made sense, but if you lingered on the track for too long toto couldn't focus. but that meant the was pent up by the end of the season.

and when toto came home, he wanted to make up for lost time. and that usually started with re-training your throat. between his legs, your mouth around his cock as you pleasured him. eyes fluttered shut as you took him as deep as you could. you could feel the pleasure thump in the back of your head as your spit clung to your chin.

toto held your hair in his hand and his other hand on his thigh as he leaned back into the couch. he admired how you look as the pleasure coursed through his body. the feeling was something else, he could feel the thump of his heart in his ears as your nose rubbed up against his trimmed pubic hair. he was impressed with himself after all the time he could still keep up with a young thing like you. he said in that low voice of his, his accent heavier with lust, "was für eine wunderschöne prinzessin." the words burned in your brain and soaked your core as you continued to orally pleasure him.

you'd get yours soon enough, toto wasn't the type of man was satisfied with one round. a man like him only reached the heights he did because of an insatiable greed.

you continued to orally pleasure him and the pleasure grew with a fire in his gut. he shifted a little on the couch and held onto your head a little tighter. his grip could be so hard it could bruise, but he'd never hurt you like that (unless you begged very nicely).

"a beauty." he said lowly, "i missed you every weekend. the photos and videos don't do your beauty justice, prinzessin. i did like the one with you on our bed, you in my shirts and trying so hard to get yourself off... but it's impossible without me, right?" he heard you moan in response at his question.

he guided your head a little faster and he could feel you choke a little bit at the feeling of his cock intruding further down your throat and it made something race through him. double header after triple header, race after race, he yearned for the softness of his lover. he wished you didn't blind his focus so much or else you'd be in his lap during the race. but it would be hard to direct the likes of russell or lewis with a hard-on.

your throat tightened around his cock as he gave the back of your throat a few more thrusts before he came inside of your mouth. he groaned under his breath was he let go of your head and relaxed against the couch. the white leather was a place of such debauchery when the older man got his hands on you.

you swallowed dutifully and took your mouth off of his still hard cock. you looked up at him with a needy look in your eyes. you needed your pleasure met too. it was hard to give head and not get so sexually wound up. and toto was more than happy to give his princess everything she so desired.

he stroked his hard cock lazily, it slick with your spit. heat in his cheeks and his dark eyes took in the sight of you before he said, "if you want it, geliebten. you're going to have to work for it. i work hard to give you everything you want, but this, you're going to have to actually work for." then smiled like a mad-man when you scrambled up on shaky legs and got into his lap. your wet cunt took him beautifully.

he tensed up for a moment and swallowed from the feeling on his already overstimulated cock. he placed both of his large hands on your hips and guided your down. his cock nudged against what felt like your womb and toto loved the feeling. your warm walls made him feel the sharp feeling of pleasure in his body. and then when you started to move up and down his cock.

"oh, geliebten." he purred, "i see you haven't forgotten the lessons i've taught you. how to please a man." you barley had given a blow-job by the time you met. toto spent a summer break making sure you understood how to drive a man wild.

"how could i forget, toto." your hands were across his clothed chest. he was still mostly clothed while you were naked. save for the anklet on your left leg with toto's name on it. you giggled, heat risen in your cheeks, "i think you fucked all my university knowledge to make room for what you taught me."

he chuckled lowly as his hands roamed your hips and a little more north, his eyes trained on the jiggle of your breasts, "well, a lover can be a good teacher. especially when the student is so eager to please." his voice was like honey in your brain and it made you only more needy for him. he kissed at your breasts and held the fat flesh in his hands and dragged his teeth and tongue across it.

you continued to move against him. you felt the excitement run through you. his sole attention on you made your body heated. there was a fire in your core that yearned for him. you wanted him, you needed him. you were his world and he expected nothing but loyalty.

"please, toto. fuck, it feels good. it left impossible to cum when i was home alone. nothing beats you." and then yelped when toto slapped you on the ass which only made you tighten around him.

"i know, prinzessin. i think i may have broken your brain with sex... my apologies. but, don't worry, i won't even make you go without." he chuckled lowly as he continued to meet your pace. he watched your body move with each heavy thrust and he felt the excitement in his bones. weeks apart, the rush of the race. despite it all, toto thought of you. he loved you. he adored you in ways that he could never put into proper words. how could he? if one met an angel, they couldn't simply put the experience into words. it was the same with you.

his voice was heavy as the words tumbled out, there was a slight ache in his hip from your movements and the position. but that could be dealt with after, you cunt was soaked for him. he even slipped out a few times, but with a little help you managed to sink yourself back down onto him. he let out a groan and you arched your back a little.

"you feel so good, geliebten." he said with a heated lust in his tone as he gripped onto you a little tighter. you felt good, your cunt was perfect around him. the fire only grew in his core as you continued to fuck him feverishly.

there was a pain in your hips as you rode him, but it was overwhelmed by the feeling of pleasure in your body which kept you moving against him. the thump of your heart could be felt in the back of your mind with a heat in your cheeks. you loved him, you loved him so deeply. you missed him, the weeks apart made it hard for you to deny yourself him. to let yourself fuck him with wild abandon. it was hot. you knew you wouldn't last much longer, not while you were riding him so well that it short circuited your brain.

your pants were heavy, your tone low as you said to him, "toto, please, honey. i'm close." the thump in your soul was a raging fire as you continued to move your hips against him. you felt the fire through your blood as you kept your pace. you fucked him through your climax, you tensed around him which only made him more turned on.

"cum for me, angel." he said lowly, "cum like you've been meaning to." then kissed at your jaw as you gave it a few more heavy thrusts before he finished inside of you. he tensed up as he held you close and let you work his body through his climax.

eventually you slowed to a stop and you slumped against him. you wrapped your arms and held onto the soft material of his t-shirt. you knew he could keep going, but you were spent. surprising that even at his age he could happily keep going like a real stallion. you held onto him and kissed him until your lips were raw. it felt amazing, good in a way that made you excited all over. it was heated, a sense of euphoria rushed through you.

"got your fill, geliebten?" he asked softly, "i see that you missed me."

"i always miss you, honey." you exhaled deeply, "missing you is like missing a part of my soul. i always need it."

he kissed the side of your head as he held you. maybe next season you could visit a little more. it would be good for the team, bring up the morale. toto just had to think of a way to keep himself from getting distracted, but he had an entire off season to come up with a plan <3

[persevereforahappyending]

No Man's Land |15 - Final|

Pairing: Sam Carpenter x Reader

Summary: Sam can’t help but be drawn to the cute stranger from her gym, even if everything about them makes them the perfect suspect, just when Ghostface has returned.

Warnings: None?

Word Count: 2.7k+

Main Masterlist | Series Masterlist

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 14 | Part 15

Sam stood next to Tara as she got patched up in the ambulance. Sam couldn’t believe she made it out without another stab wound and that Tara only got stabbed in the shoulder. Her eyes drifted across the way to see you in the back of another ambulance, getting stitched up once again. It seemed you had been right; you tore open all of your stitches, again.

Chad was standing next to you, seeming to talk rather animatedly as he gestured around crazily with his arms. Sam was sure that when they got outside, they’d find Chad in a puddle of blood, but they didn’t, he had been completely fine. When Chad hadn’t been able to get ahold of Mindy, he said he went to go inside but the doors were all locked, so he ran to the nearest police station. By the time they were leaving the building police and medics were already waiting, a few minutes earlier and maybe Bailey and the others would have been arrested instead of dead.

“You know,” Tara said, interrupting Sam’s thoughts. She looked to see her sister was all patched up and now had a simple makeshift sling as she hopped down from the ambulance. “They’re not so bad,” she nodded in your direction. Sam followed her sister’s gaze and couldn’t help but smile. “I think you picked a good one.”

Sam let out a breathless laugh. She knew Tara was right, you were one of the good ones. They didn’t lose anyone with you by their side, you ended up getting the most hurt out of all of them in fact. Sam didn’t even want to know where they’d all be without you, she certainly didn’t think they’d make it out and she didn’t think she could handle losing any of them.

“I almost got them killed,” Sam said. She couldn’t see why you’d ever stick around; no one was crazy enough to put up with her after seeing her life. She figured you’d return to North Carolina and go back to your special ops missions; you were clearly quite good at it after all.

Tara scoffed and Sam looked back at her sister just in time to see her rolling her eyes. “You’re ridiculous,” Tara said. “They almost died for you!” She gestured at you. Sam furrowed her brow; Tara said the same exact thing she just did but in a different tone. Sam couldn’t figure out how it was any different, she was pretty sure you almost dying for her and her almost getting you killed meant the same thing.

“They’re still here,” Tara said slower as if that would make Sam understand better. Sam guessed it was obvious she was still confused because Tara threw her head back and let out an exaggerated groan. “They know everything,” she gestured widely. “And they still stayed.”

“They had a whole life before me.” Sam watched as the medic finished stitching up another one of your wounds.

“And you could be a part of it.”

“I don’t-”

“You deserve to be happy Sam.” Sam snapped her head towards her sister in shock, Tara sounded so confident when she said that. “You just got to take the chance:”

Sam sighed and looked back over at you. You stayed, you got hurt protecting her and her friends. Not to mention the fact that you also killed two people for her, probably would have done all three but you let her have Bailey. You didn’t need that kind of drama in your life, you could go back to your own life before you ever met her. Sam wasn’t even sure what a relationship with you would even look like. She worked two jobs to pay for the apartment and Tara would always be her priority. She would be stuck working dead end jobs because she never went to college, she barely got her high school diploma, but you were exceptional, you were smart and strong, you were a hero.

“Hey,” Chad said as he jogged up to the sisters. “I just got off the phone with Mindy.”

“Is she okay?” Tara asked. Sam watched Chad’s face with worry, they didn’t know anything besides the fact that Quinn apparently stabbed her. Chad had been asking for information on his sister since they got outside, several people said they’d learn what they could.

“Yeah,” Chad nodded. “She’s at the hospital, she said Gale also made it.” Sam couldn’t help but let out a sigh of relief, her and Gale may have had their differences, but she certainly didn’t want to see the woman die, Gale didn’t deserve that. “I was going to head down there now; did you want to come with?”

Sam opened her mouth to say yes, she wanted to see Mindy and even Gale for herself. She wanted to be able to tell Gale that they got them, that it was finally over. The words never came out though as her eyes drifted back over to you. Chad whipped his head back and forth looking between you and Sam, when she finally turned back to answer Chad he was giving her a knowing smile.

“They’re okay,” Chad said without even being asked. “Giving the medics a hard time.”

Sam couldn’t help but let out a small chuckle and roll her eyes. That definitely seemed accurate, they were probably trying to give you the best care possible while you insisted you were fine. Sam was sure the only reason they didn’t take you to the hospital was because you, once again, denied doing so.

“But you should talk to them,” Chad continued. Sam raised an eyebrow at that, she knew how much Chad liked you. Only one conversation and you had Chad vouching for you and had him telling you all about them, probably when you didn’t even ask. “They seem great!” He smiled innocently.

Sam rolled her eyes again; between Chad and her sister she didn’t know what she’d do. “We’ll meet you at the hospital in a bit,” Sam finally said. Chad nodded and ran off to a police officer who seemed willing to give him a ride.

Sam looked up just as you smiled and thanked the medic as she packed up her supplies. She looked back to her sister who gestured at her to go over to you. Sam sighed and made her way towards you. She had talked to you plenty of times, it wasn’t until you almost died trying to save her life, but since then it seemed like the two of you shared a lot. You talked about your past, Sam talked about hers, the two of you even shared a kiss when you spent the night. None of that meant you wanted anything more, if anything you’d probably want nothing to do with her.

“Hey,” you said as you hopped out of the ambulance.

“Are you okay?” Sam asked. She looked you up and down, her eyes seemed to only go to the injuries she knew you had and a the blood covering your shirt. She knew most of the blood couldn’t have been yours, it was most likely from Quinn and Ethan.

“Yeah,” you shrugged as if everything that happened to you was no big deal. “What about you?” Your brow scrunched up as your eyes searched her face. Sam hadn’t even been stabbed and yet you were asking if she was okay. “And your sister,” you nodded at something behind her and Sam glanced back to see Tara watching the two of you.

Sam rolled her eyes; Tara was relentless when she made up her mind about something. “She’ll be okay, has to wear the sling for a few day.”

You let out a knowing hum. “And Chad said Mindy and Gale made it. Guess everyone made it out,” you smiled.

“Only thanks to you.” You scoffed and let out a little chuckle as if you didn’t actually believe Sam’s words. “I’m serious.” You rolled her eyes, still clearly not ready to accept what Sam was telling you. “Hey,” without thinking Sam reached out and caressed your cheek which you almost instinctively leaned into. “You saved us, there is no way all of us would have made it out, especially with most of us unscathed.”

You gave her a soft smile, finally seeming to accept the fact that you wouldn’t win this argument. The two of you fell into a comfortable silence and Sam couldn’t help but get lost in your eyes as they stared into her own. “Your sister is staring at us,” you whispered, never taking your eyes off of Sam.

Sam felt her face heat up at that, she should have known you’d notice, you proved to be rather observant. “She’s making sure I talk to you,” Sam admitted.

“About anything in particular?” Your mouth twitched up in a smirk, as if you knew what Tara wanted Sam to talk to you about.

“I just…” the words got caught in her throat as she stared into your eyes. She couldn’t believe the person who was looking at her with so much cared had just killed two people, had killed them for her.

“Just what?” you rasped out. Sam wasn’t sure when she got so close to you, she had heard you as if you were the only two in the world.

Sam shook her head and pushed out all the voices telling her this was a bad idea and that you could still hurt her. She didn’t hesitate as she shot forward, catching your lips in a surprising kiss. She felt you stiffen but before she could pull away you grabbed her by the waist, pulling her closer, deepening the kiss. Sam couldn’t help but smile into the kiss, it was even better than the first one and this time she didn’t intend on stopping you.

Eventually the two of you did have to breakaway because both of you needed to catch your breath. Sam couldn’t remember the last time she smiled so much, she bit her lip as she looked up at you shyly, as if she hadn’t just been to make the first move. She didn’t ask permission; she just went for it and the soft smile on your face was making her want to do it all over again.

“My life’s a mess,” Sam blurted out, but this time she was smiling as she spoke. “As you’ve seen,” she gestured to the chaos around them. “But, would you maybe,” Sam couldn’t help but bite her bottom lip as she was suddenly unable to look you in the eye. “Want to go out sometime?”

Sam glanced up through her lashes and was met with your soft smile. “I’d like that,” you said.

Sam smiled; it had been a long time since she asked someone out. She almost felt like she was back in high school, having her first crush. You gently put your finger under her chin and tilted her head up, so she was looking into your eyes again. Both of you couldn’t seem to help but smile as you leaned in for another kiss.

You broke the kiss quicker than Sam would like this time; she wanted to chase after your lips, but it was clear you had something you wanted to say. “Maybe I’m overthinking and rushing this,” you whispered. “Maybe our first date will go horrible, and you won’t want another.” Sam couldn’t help but silently chuckle at that, she didn’t think that was possible. “But I’m not easy to be with.” Sam furrowed her brow at that.

“I’m military, if I’m not deployed, I’m in North Carolina, I only get to come back home, to here, when I’m on leave, maybe a weekend, if I’m lucky,” you sighed, you seemed to really be stressing how little you would actually physically be able to be in the same place at Sam. “A lot of people don’t want to put up with that. You’re trying to lessen the complications in your life, I don’t want to add to it.”

Sam rested a hand on the side of your face, you closed your eyes as you leaned into her touch and Sam couldn’t help but smile at the sight. “I don’t think either of us can make any promises, or that we should,” Sam said. “But I’m willing to try.” You gave her what she could only describe as a relieved smile, as if you expected her to back down. “Let’s just live in the moment and take it day by day.”

“I like the sound of that.” You smiled and it seemed like you were about to lean in for another kiss, which Sam was more than happy to meet in the middle when the two of you were interrupted by someone calling out Sam’s name.

Sam furrowed her brow and turned to see Kirby being wheeled out on a gurney. “Oh my god,” Sam yelled and ran to Kirby’s side. “You’re alive!”

“I’m so glad while I was bleeding out, you two were making out,” Kirby mumbled, slightly drowsy from the drugs the medics gave her, or the blood loss.

“We weren’t the ones and who got ourselves shot,” you snarked.

“Hey,” Kirby pointed a finger at you, leaning up from the gurney slightly. “Remember who gave you that gun.” Sam’s eyes widened, she completely forgot you had a gun, one you didn’t tell her about. “And it seems it came in handy.”

“Whatever,” you rolled your eyes and waved her off. “We’ll stop by and visit in a bit.”

Kirby nodded, seeming to get more sleepy the longer she laid there. “You did good sergeant.” You smiled at that and nodded for the medics to continue on towards the ambulance.

Sam crossed her arms as she stepped in front of you. She raised an expectant eyebrow at you, and you just tilted your head, as you pretended to be confused. “You failed to mention Kirby gave you a weapon,” Sam said.

“The less people who knew the better,” you defended. Sam scoffed; she couldn’t believe you were trying that with her. “And look, your sister is coming over,” you gestured to the side, effectively changing the subject as Sam glanced over and saw Tara was indeed walking over.

“So, you two together now?” Tara asked as a greeting.

“No!” Sam denied, she was sure her face was bright red after that. “We’ve barely known each other three days.” It felt like she had known you a lot longer than that, even if she didn’t count the longing stares she gave you at the gym the last three months. “But, we are going on a first date.”

Tara rolled her eyes. “Guess that’s something,” she mumbled. Sam smacked her sister in the arm and nodded towards you. Tara gave a dramatic roll of her eyes again. “You did good,” she nodded at you. “Total badass.” Sam closed her eyes and let out a long sigh, that wasn’t exactly what she had in mind. “And thanks for saving our lives,” Tara mumbled under her breath.

You took it well though and just quietly chuckled at her sister. “You weren’t so bad yourself,” you said.

“Come on,” Sam said, giving you and Tara a tired smile. “Let’s go check on Mindy and Gale.”

The three of you walked away from the flashing lights and the chaos all of you just survived. Sam couldn’t help but smile as her hand brushed against yours, until you took the initiative and took her hand within your own. She glanced at you out of the side of her eye and saw you looking ahead, the only evidence that you knew what you did was the smirk on your face.

“So,” Tara said, interrupting the peaceful silence. “How many dates do the two of you have to go on before I can meet the dog?”

Sam chuckled to herself; she should have known that would be a thing. The second Tara learned you had a dog her face lit up. Sam wasn’t sure she wanted to see your dog again; she was still a bit intimidated but based on the smile on your face and the way Tara was looking at her, she had a feeling she’d be seeing a lot more of the dog.

Taglist: @thatshyboy1998 @artrizzler19 @btay3115 @acutenobody @godamnityess

@luvwanda @rqizzu @riyaexee @bella423 @rayisaknight

@assgradiangod @canyonyodeler @marsyay78

[rosesdrop]

What do they feel for you ?

(Check out patreon for the extended version)

Pile 1:

There's this immense amount of energy ready to be directed towards a specific goal, the goal is you. They are definitely action takers they don't stay reluctant for long, it's part of who they are, they just like to see energy explode everywhere, they're passionate and so is the way they express themselves, they don't hold themselves back. They feel like you'd hesitate though, it makes them feel discouraged, it's like everytime they try to let you know proudly the kind of person they are you seem to back away, as if you're not so contented with what you see, they believe they're probably not your type, hence the reluctance from yourside. They try to change themselves sometimes to fit your standards, they try so hard to fit in what would seem like your ideal type. They think you're a perfectionist so you always look for people that share the same vibes with you

Pile 2:

This person feels like your business is their business, they're invasive. The reason is, they feel disconnected from you so they're using indirect ways to reach you, even if means spying or meddling in your business. It hurts them deep inside even if they appear rough. They cannot express their emotions for some reason. They feel lonely most of the time. It's hard for them to explain themselves because it seems like everything is not fine with them or they think that you'll see it this way, so they don't even try. Even if you think you know them they won't show you who they truly are. They're contradictory, they wanna know things about you but they won't let you even get close.

Pile 3:

This person is exited for what to come next with you, they talk about you to their friends. They put a lot of hope on you. They give a lot of value to this connection. With you they feel like they can let their walls down, they trust you. They do feel like your presence is important, they don't wanna miss it or make things harder so they try to go with the current to keep things calm. They believe that deep down you actually care for them, they know that you try to hide it from them but it's as  clear for them as the sun. They try to sweep all of their negative emotions under the rug and keep up a good behaviour, they want to let you know that they are a good and reliable person so that maybe you can be more open to them.

[transgender-mothman]

Maybe your biggest concern should just be playing with people who vibe with your style and not worrying about how or why other people do it the way they do if it’s not effecting you in any way?

If someone is being a jerk about it, sure, go off! I don’t think there’s anything wrong with deep discussions about rules, or following them to the letter, or even having (good natured) arguments about a play choice. But just like playing house rules in Monopoly, or doing your own version of hopscotch, there’s nothing wrong with taking what you like and turning the volume down on the rest.

Unless you are playing in a professional or otherwise regulated setting like at your LGS, and everyone is in agreement, it’s fine to do your own thing. I am not here for people being jerks in any game spaces, so by all means, stop someone if they’re being a Problem™. I feel very strongly that you should play at a table that suits what you want out of the game. And that you should, as a DM, discuss this stuff with your players and see what everyone wants to get out of the campaign.

There is still a lot to gain from playing any ttrpg while still being lenient with rules (be it for rule of cool, or home brew, or just omitting things you don’t like). There are set skills, set things you can do, methods to resolve conflict, and additional impetus to advance the story beyond just roleplay. Not everyone is comfortable doing everything off the dome, and a game like d&d, used even with some leniency and wiggle room, offers some structure and building blocks that can make jumping into roleplaying a lot less intimidating. There is a book to read and reference. You can get an idea how the system works, how games flow, and build based off the knowledge you have and tweak as you and your table see fit. And that’s to say nothing of how having a rubric can help (not entirely prevent, but help!) avoid people who just want to continuously one up and have More Powers Than You At All Times. And you have the fun of randomized results due to stats and dice rolls, so things go in different directions than they would just writing or role playing without a ttrpg structure.

For clarification, I’ve been running 5e for the better part of a decade now (plus forays into other systems), and my campaigns are very story and character heavy… and I am lenient about rules, but that doesn’t mean they’re not there. Depending on the campaign, the players, and the length/frequency of play, sometimes myself and my players feel it’s best to sand down some edges and play a little softball for the sake of time, flow, and fun. And sometimes people come up with super creative and cool ways to use skills or spells or mechanics that are unconventional, and for the sake of everyone having a good time, it’s a fun to bend the rules a bit just to get the pop from the group and make the gang happy.

There’s no ignoring the rules en masse in my case, I’m still running D&D. Sometimes it’s just allowing things to ride for the drama/cool of it in a scene, or just deciding campaign x doesn’t require mechanic y. It’s all in fun, and so long as my players have a good time and we tell a good story, that’s what matters at my table. I do require people to read the PHB, but not everything applies to every campaign, so I provide abridged reading or clarify what I want people to absorb and what to leave.

Am I gonna be running any professional games? Nah. Am I the best DM? Nope. Do I feel my way to play is superior? No! But I don’t think it’s inferior either because the value is in how much everyone enjoys playing together. Just play with whoever suits your style and vibe and have fun. It’s a game, it’s not that serious.

I think an important part of the "D&D is easy to learn" argument is that a lot of those people don't actually know how to play D&D. They know they need to roll a d20 and add some numbers and sometimes they need to roll another type of die for damage. A part of it is the culture of basically fucking around and letting the GM sort it out. Players don't actually feel the need to learn the rules.

Now I don't think the above actually counts as knowing the rules. D&D is a relatively crunchy game that actually rewards system mastery and actually learning how to play D&D well, as in to make mechanically informed tactical decisions and utilizing the mechanics to your advantage, is actually a skill that needs to be learned and cultivated. None of that is to say that you need to be a perfectly tuned CharOp machine to know how to play D&D. But to actually start to make the sorts of decisions D&D as a game rewards you kind of need to know the rules.

And like, a lot of people don't seem to know the rules. They know how to play D&D in the most abstract sense of knowing that they need to say things and sometimes the person scowling at them from behind the screen will ask them to roll a die. But that's hardly engaging with the mechanics of the game, like the actual game part.

And to paraphrase @prokopetz this also contributes to the impression that other games are hard to learn: because a lot of other games don't have the same culture of play of D&D so like instead of letting new players coast by with a shallow understanding of the rules and letting the GM do all the work, they ask players to start making mechanically informed decisions right away. Sure, it can suck for onboarding, but learning from your mistakes can often be a great way to learn.

[pitchsidestories]

have yourself a merry little Christmas II Kim Little x Reader

romantic masterlist | platonic masterlist | word count: 1115

summary: Kim, the Arsenal team and reader are strolling through a Christmas market together. requested

author's note: dear readers, we hope you enjoy our oneshot, your feedback is always appreciated.❤️❤️

Visiting the London Christmas market with the Arsenal team became an annual festive tradition for your teammates and you. The delicious scent of cinnamon and chocolate was in the air as you made your way through the buzzing streets, the slightly wet cobblestones reflected the warm fairy lights surrounding you.

“Girls, where’s Kim and y/n?”, Leah stopped moving alarmed by her realization that you two were suddenly missing from the group.

“They were right behind us.”, Beth shrugged innocently. The striker’s remark only intensified the blonde defenders frowning lines on her forehead.

“Kyra, no!”, Alessia laughed, trying to prevent the young Australian to get anymore chocolate from one of the many stands, so she wouldn’t suffer from a sugar shock.

“What?”, the midfielder responded sounding completely guileless.

“You can’t have chocolate right now, we’ve lost our captain and her wife which means we need to find them.”, Leah shook her head impatiently.

“I’m sure they’ll be fine.”, Kyra waved it off unbothered by the dramatics of the vice-captain. With a huge smile on her lips, she added eyes gleaming joyfully: “But there’s hot chocolate over there.”

“It can’t be as good as Swiss chocolate.”, Lia grumbled.

“Amor.”, Mariona chuckled amused.

“Maybe try it before you slam it.”, Beth suggested winking.

“See, listen to her.”, the Spanish midfielder smirked at the older Swiss woman who still looked unconvinced at the chocolate laying in front of her.

“Oi, I think I saw them.”, Katie interrupted them excitedly, before the team could reach them though, Kim and you disappeared in the crowd again.

In front of a booth where one could win prices your wife came to a halt. Immediately, the Scottish woman’s light eyes spotted something she wanted to get for you. The unfolding scene felt like one of those cheesy Hollywood rom coms you loved while your lover hated them with a passion.

“Kim, you don’t have to do that.”, you crossed your arms in front of your chest

“Do what?”, Kim frowned.

“To win that stuffed animal for me.”, you finished your sentence with a smile on your face.

“Who said I wanted to win it for you.”, the midfielder countered teasingly.

“So, it’s for your niece and nephew?”, you asked her.

“I didn’t say that either.”, she reminded you grinning. After a few rounds of playing, Kim triumphantly handed the stuff animal to you, announcing proudly: “Here this is yours.”

“Thank you.”, you muttered too stunned to say something else.

“You’re welcome.”, your wife replied.

Nervously you put a loose string of hair behind your ear: “Kimmy, you don’t think we’re too old for plushies?”

“What? No.”

“It’s really cute.”, you admitted touched by her soft gesture. Most people in your life were getting married, buying houses and having babies, the latter one you failed at it, you two were trying again in the new year. But for now, you were grateful for what you did had an amazing wife and a wonderful team which were also your found family.

“Let’s go, maybe we’ll find the others again.” Kim cleared her throat.  

You nodded slowly: “Good idea. It’s a team bonding event after all.“

“Exactly. But do you want to get some mulled wine first? I know you like that.”, Kim suggested, pointing into the direction of a stand close by. The smell of spices and warm alcohol wafted over to you.

You smiled, admiring that she remembered: “I do.“

“I’ll get us some.“, Kim said and queued up before you could protest.

A few minutes later, she pressed a hot mug into your hand. You leaned forward until the steam touched your cheeks, inhaling the smell. “Thanks, you’re the best.“

“Because I bought you a drink?”, Kim chuckled before taking a sip from her mulled wine.

“No, for… everything.”

A crease formed between her eyebrows as she studied you sternly: “I’m not doing anything.“

“Not through my eyes.“, you said, carefully drinking from the hot beverage in front of you.

Your wifes face softened: “That’s sweet of you.“

You hid your face behind your mug while taking another sip: “It’s the truth.“

“That’s just the mulled wine.“

You giggled about how bad Kim was at accepting compliments: “I’ve not had that much of it yet! But you know it’s Christmas soon and you know what they say about Christmas. That you tell the truth.“

“I never heard of that before.“, the midfielder grinned.

“Sadly it’s not from me. It’s a quote from Love, actually.“

“Never seen that.“

You blinked at her in disbelief: “You didn’t? We need to change that as soon as we get home.“

“I don’t even like Christmas movies.“, she complained. That fact definitely wasn’t new to you. It was almost impossible to get her to watch anything Christmas related.

But before you could protest and explain to her that not all Christmas movies are predictable and cheesy, you found yourself right under a plastic mistletoe. Admittedly, that was even too cheesy for you.

“Oh.“, you said as you looked upwards.

Kims eyes followed your gaze to the mistletoe: “And that’s exactly why. They’re all so stupid and clichéd. Like the tradition that you have to kiss under a mistletoe…“

You silenced her with one raised eyebrow: “You didn’t hate tradition when you went down on one knee for me years ago.“

Kim simply rolled her eyes in response: “Oh please.“

“Yeah, right, forget it. Oh, look who’s over there.“

A group of blonde girls stood out from the crowd. You immediately recognised your teammates.

“Oh.“

“Let’s go back over to them.“, you suggested but when you were about to take a step forward, Kims hand snaked around your wrist, holding you back.

“It’s bad luck.“

She nodded upwards to the plant above your heads.

You bit back a smile: “I thought you detested Christmas traditions.“

“I do. But we can’t risk it, can we?”, the Arsenal captain grinned sheepishly.

“No, we can’t.”, you agreed mirroring her smile before her lips met for a short, but sweet kiss.

Both of you were quickly interrupted by Leah’s statement, her arms were crossed in front of the chest: “Underneath the mistletoe.”

“Ew.”, Kyra grimaced who got playfully elbowed into her side through Steph.

The older defender warned her smiling: “Shut it.”

Expectantly Alessia looked at Kim and you: “ Are you coming now? We want to go on the Ferris wheel?”

“Yes, we’re coming.”, you told her beaming.

“Don’t worry.”, your wife added in a light-tone.

Somewhere in the background, have yourself a merry little Christmas was playing, and little Christmas was about to be soon indeed. The air was already full of laughter, joy and the promises of a New Year.

[psychoticallykind]

Sleep

"Fake" - Jegulus Microfic - @into-the-jeggyverse - 283 words

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

James was exhausted. He was drained, he was tired, he just wanted to collapse and sleep for a few dozen years.

But he had things to do, and those things took precedence over sleeping.

"What are you doing?"

James twisted in his seat, happily surprised to see Regulus behind him. "Tutoring. How's your day going?"

Regulus dropped into the chair beside him. "It was fine, until l came in here and saw you giving everyone the most fake smile I've ever seen."

James glanced around, making sure none of the first-years had heard. Thankfully, they all seemed to be doing okay right now. "It's not fake."

"Forced, then," Regulus replied. He gave James an appraising look. "When's the last time you slept?"

"The night before last," James admitted. "But I'll sleep tonight after I finish my transfiguration essay."

"No."

James almost frowned before he caught himself. "No?"

Regulus nodded. "No. You need to go and sleep now."

"I can't," James protested. "I'm tutoring."

"I brought Pandora to help Lily," Regulus nodded slightly in their direction. "So you can come with me and get some rest before dinner."

"I don't need -" James stopped, honestly a little overwhelmed at the idea of getting to lay down for a bit. "Really?"

Regulus rolled his eyes. "Really. Come on, I really need you unconscious in the next half hour."

James didn't have the energy to argue anymore. But he did find the energy to pull Regulus to a stop outside the Slytherin common room for a few minutes.

"Thank you," he whispered, grateful. "For thinking of me."

"I'm always thinking of you," Regulus murmured back. He gave James a brief kiss. "Now come on. Time for sleep."

[chrissturnsfav]

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 loser!matt takes fuckgirl!reader shopping

you’re in the passenger seat of matt’s ancient car, legs crossed, skirt riding up just enough to make his jaw clench if he’d actually bother looking.

the interior smells faintly of his stupid energy drinks and the air freshener he probably got free with a gas station fill-up. he’s got one hand on the wheel and the other on the gearshift, his eyes locked on the road like he’s driving a ferrari instead of this shitty car.

"you know you don’t have to act like this is a fucking chore," you say, side-eyeing him. "i’m letting you come shopping with me. and that’s a privilege, matt."

he snorts, glancing at you for a brief second before focusing back on the road. "right. every guy’s dream—holding bags while you try on clothes you don’t need."

you roll your eyes, leaning closer so your perfume wafts in his direction. "maybe if you weren’t so... boring, i'd model for you. but you’re too busy being rude to appreciate the opportunity."

his lips twitch, almost a smirk, but he catches himself. "don’t let my nonchalantness stop you. go wild."

you stare at him, half-annoyed, half-amused. "you are the worst," you mumble in irritation, crossing your arms as you slump in the worn leather seat. you don't speak another word until you both arrive at the mall.

the mall is busy, the kind of crowd that makes your feet click a little faster, but matt’s dragging behind like he’s got nowhere to be. his hands are shoved in his hoodie pocket, his shoulders slouched, and that stupid indifferent look plastered on his face as if this is the last place he wants to be.

which, knowing matt, it probably is.

"you could at least pretend like you’re having fun," you say, glancing over your shoulder at him with a bratty look on your face.

he raises an eyebrow. "we’ve been to, what, three stores already? how many more before you find whatever the fuck it is you’re looking for?"

you groan, grabbing his arm and pulling him toward the next store. "come on, maybe if i find something cute, you’ll stop being such a negative nelly."

inside the girly store you had picked, you weave through racks of dresses and tops, holding up options and shooting matt looks when he barely reacts. he’s leaning against a display table now, scrolling on his phone like he’s clocked out of this whole ordeal.

"matt," you say sharply, holding up a pretty red dress that’s just short enough to make an impression. "what about this?"

he glances up briefly. "looks fine," he shrugs.

you roll your eyes so hard it hurts. "do you have anything to fucking say besides ‘looks fine’? like, at all?" you groan, mocking his nonchalant voice.

he smirks, shoving his phone into his pocket. "kid, what do you want me to say? ‘oh wow, that’s the most incredible dress i’ve ever seen in my life'?"

"yes," you snap, dragging the dress to the fitting rooms. "that’s exactly what i want you to say."

you try it on in a fitting room, smoothing it over your hips before stepping out to show him. he’s still by the table, but when you clear your throat, his head jerks up. his eyes widen just a fraction, a flicker of something passing over his face before he schools it back to that infuriatingly neutral expression.

"well?" you say, hands on your hips.

his eyes flick up and down, taking you in, before he clears his throat. "yeah. that’s… that’s good."

you smirk, walking up to him and leaning close. "good? just good?"

he shifts uncomfortably, his cheeks flushing just enough to make you grin. "you know what you’re doing," he mutters.

"and you’re just realizing that now?" you lean back, triumphant, and sassy as you walk back to the fitting room, leaving him flustered and exactly where you want him.

𝗮𝘂𝘁𝗵𝗼𝗿'𝘀 𝗻𝗼𝘁𝗲: his nonchalantness makes me giggle

tags: @sturnobsessedwh0re , @idrk2292 , @mattsbrat , @ribbonlovergirl , @swagalicious260 , @sturnhyyhblog , @matthewsroses , @mattsdemi , @emely9274 , @frankoceanfanpage

thank you for reading!! <3

@chrissturnsfav ™

[thisapplepielife]

Written for @steddieholidaydrabbles.

Gossip Is Currency

Prompt Day 21: Formal | Word Count: 1000 | Rating: T | CW: Language, Canon Background Stancy | Tags: Missing Scene from S2's The Pollywog, Post-Halloween "Bullshit" Scene, Pre-Steddie, Platonic Hellcheer, School Sucks, Eddie Knows

This is cruel and unusual punishment. 

Eddie sits on the stupid folding chair, behind the stupid folding table, with a stack of tickets to sell to the winter formal. It was this or another suspension, and it was only because he was sure Wayne would not appreciate not having to talk to the principal again anytime soon, that Eddie chose this option.

They've got bubbly cheerleader Chrissy Cunningham sitting next to him controlling the money box that they definitely didn't trust him to be anywhere near, as they try to sell tickets to the kids still roaming around during extracurriculars.

Chrissy hasn't said anything to him after greeting him, and he hasn't said anything in return. They hung out once before, during a middle school talent show, but he doesn't expect that she remembers that.

Another shitty jock walks up.

"Two?" Chrissy asks.

"Yeah," the kid answers, and she takes the money, makes the change, and all Eddie has to do is hand over the two ticket stubs.

He resents it. 

It's stupid, it's–

"It's bullshit," he hears from down the hall.

Yeah, it's exactly that.

And hell's frozen over, if he agrees with King Steve.

Harrington's in some sort of heated debate with Wheeler as they stomp down the hallway, bickering back and forth. She's a fucking firebrand, that one. Everyone thinks she's a priss, but oh no, Eddie's studied this whole school long enough to know that's not even remotely true.

Harrington's gonna get knocked down a peg or two under her, and deservedly so.

Seeing them coming in his direction is at least interesting. Eddie tears off the two tickets and hands them over to Tweedle Dumb, and keeps watching the free show heading his way.

"Winter formal tickets?" Chrissy asks Harrington, and Jesus H. Christ, does she have no observation skills? Now is not the time. This is the time to blend into the wall so they can get the dirty fucking details on this fight. Gossip is currency.

Harrington turns to look at them, and shakes his head no. He looks more sad than mad, and that isn't near as fun. 

"Steve," Wheeler says, and she looks annoyed.

Harrington runs his hands through his hair, tugging at the ends, and then they're gone. 

Well, that was uneventful in the end. He didn't learn anything worth repeating.

Eddie had heard rumors of a Halloween night blow-up, but wasn't there to see it with his own eyes. Apparently they're still in a tiff today.

He can still hear the echo of them around the corner and down the hall, and well, he's nosey. It pays to know everything that's going on in this school.

"Be right back," Eddie says, and follows them down the hall, with the excuse that he's heading to the pop machine.

He digs four quarters out of his pocket, and pretends it's hard to make a decision, before hitting the Mellow Yellow button. The machine whirrs to life, and the can drops down. He feeds the other two quarters in, still trying to listen to Harrington and Wheeler fussing by the double-doors.

Eddie can't really decipher much besides hissing mumbles. Damn.

He presses another button without even really paying attention.

Welch's Grape Soda.

He might actually pick that over the Mellow Yellow he thought he originally wanted.

Harrington and Wheeler leave, so Eddie takes both cans back towards the table, holding them up, an offer, "You want?"

Chrissy smiles, "Really?"

Eddie nods, "You choose," he says, and she falters, just a bit, looking up at him like there might be a wrong answer.

There's no wrong answer here. No trick. He puts them both down on the table, "Totally fine either way."

She reaches for the grape, and is still looking his way. He nods, "Excellent choice," as he picks up the Mellow Yellow, and cracks open the can.

"Thanks, Eddie," she says, like he's given her something more than a can of pop. Carver's a bigger dick than he'd realized, apparently. 

They sit in silence, waiting for more kids to finish up with their stupid clubs and practices. 

The door clangs closed on the other end of the school, and they wait. It's Harrington again. He crosses the hall intersection in his little shorts, and Eddie can see that he's pinching his nose as he darts out of their line of sight as quickly as he entered.

Then it's just them, alone in the hallway again.

"She called him bullshit," Chrissy whispers.

Eddie turns and looks at her, waiting for her to elaborate.

She does.

"On Halloween. At Tina's party. She called him and his love bullshit. I heard it myself, waiting for the bathroom. She was drunk, not making sense about Barb Holland. It was pretty mean."

"No shit?" he asks, leaning closer. 

She nods, giving him a rundown of the whole party. She's got all the good gossip, not just about Harrington and Wheeler's dust up. Eddie feels a twinge of something. 

He's well acquainted with being shit on publicly.

Nobody's around this school, and Eddie gets up to go take a piss. He can't sit still. Hates it. And doing it for this is a special version of hell.

He walks down the hall, to the bathroom. He stands in front of the urinal, unzips and is pissing when he hears the stifled cough from behind him.

Eddie turns to look and sees familiar shoes under the stall door.

Tucking himself back in, re-zipping, he reaches over and flushes the urinal.

"Harrington," Eddie says. 

He waits and there's no response. 

"Harrington," he tries again.

"Go away, Munson," Harrington says, and then mumbles under his breath, "It's bullshit. I'm bullshit."

Eddie takes three steps towards the door, then impulsively turns back.

"She's wrong, you know? You're not bullshit."

And then Eddie waits a beat before adding, "You're just an asshole."

Steve chuckles, and Eddie smiles to himself as he turns and heads out the door.

Timing is everything. 

Mission accomplished.

If you want to write your own, or see more entries for this challenge, pop on over to @steddieholidaydrabbles and follow along with the fun!

[yeonjunsvape]

L.A girl: joshua smut

w/c: 2.3k

pairing: idol!joshua, female!reader

genre: smut

summary: joshua comes back to his hometown and meets with a girl from his past.

svt masterlist

you highfive your teammates when you score a point and glance over at the crowd forming, cheering you guys on.

there was a particular face which sticks out when you go to serve the ball, it was a tall, well dressed, and smug smiled man.

joshua…

your eyes never left his as he slow claps for you, the arrogance was radiating off his body and you drop the ball to the ground. never has your heart beaten so fast by a person who didn’t have to speak a word, joshua only uses his eyes to get his point across.

without saying a word to your friends, you run off the beach and immediately regret looking weak infront of him.

when you walk down the pier of the beach, you didn’t notice someone following you because your mind was clouded, “why did you run?” a familiar voice from behind you semi-shouts due to all the noise happening around you.

even with all the other sounds coming from every direction in your ears, his voice was crystal clear and transparent. “i-i didn’t run…” you stopped in your tracks but didn’t have the strength to turn around.

it was an obvious lie, he saw you laughing and smiling with your friends until your eyes met his. “you didn’t huh?” he retorts with a sly chuckle.

your fingers ball into a fist until your knuckles turn white and finally turn around to face joshua. “okay fine i did, but who are you to judge? don’t you run away from everyone and everything also?” you shout, walking up closer until you’re chest to chest.

“i can’t argue there, i just thought you would’ve got over that by now.” your eyes roll and he smirks, loving the reaction he gets from you anytime he speaks.

you weren’t sure why he has such an emotional effect in your brain, it’s been that way since middle school. he can be on the other side of the world and you still can’t help but look around small crowds for his face.

“i missed you [Y/N], my band is doing some shooting in la, i just wanted to catch up.” joshua seemed innocent by the way he spoke but you can read his thoughts. “i’ve been great… we caught up, have a good summer.” you turn around and continue your journey down the pier, far away from him.

2 days later was the next time you’d see joshua again.

the day was nothing extraordinary, shower, coffee, and work meetings; that is until, you see the handsome yet annoying smug face walking into your office.

your cheeks sink in and you give him a death glare as he walks to your bosses office door, knocking politely. you stand from your chair and sneak over to the room, peaking in through a window your boss uses to surveillance all your colleagues.

there wasn’t any clear words you could hear and you stomp your foot slightly, getting frustrated you didn’t know joshua’s intentions.

when the two men start walking toward the door, you take off back to your desk, falling off your rolling chair in the process but quickly sitting down, and breathing heavy.

they walk behind you and the hair sticks up on the back of your head just by the presence of joshua hong. “mrs. [Y/N]? this is joshua from the korean band seventeen. they are looking for someone around the area to help them with shooting locations.” you turn around in the chair and bite the inside of your cheek hard.

you worked in retail at the largest agency in la and you had no idea what selling houses had to do with finding locations for a boyband to shoot a music video.

“the beach is always a good location, have a nice day.” you turn back around in your chair and your boss clears his throat, “mrs [Y/N]? take his team to every available property along the shore we have.”

you hesitate but stand up from the chair and grab your belongings. “it’ll be my honor, shall we, mr. hong?” you fake a polite voice for your bosses satisfaction and drop your smile when you’re left alone with joshua. “let’s go.”

the elevator ride to the first floor was nothing short of the most tense experience you’ve ever been in and the worst part is you can’t run away this time.

“sooo… is your manager going with us?” you awkwardly ask, trying to stay professional. “yes, also the other boys, they want to have an opinion on where we shoot.” you just nod and look around the small elevator at anywhere but him.

once the two doors were about to open he presses a button to make the doors close again. “what-” was all you said before he pushes you against the elevator wall, both of his hands on either side of your head.

“why do you do this to me [Y/N]? after all these years of no communication, you still make me feel like we’re in high school.” he mutters in your ear, sending shivers down your entire body.

you didn’t dare speak a word to the man who was now hovering over your body and after a few moments of silence he chuckles, pulling away. “i know you like the back of my hand [Y/N], you act innocent and push me away, then can’t handle the tension so you hate fuck me.”

you push him away when the elevator opens again and people crowd inside, then slip out the door skillfully, leaving joshua behind. your heart was beating so fast you thought it was about to explode.

you’re on level 8 when you need to be on the ground floor, so you quickly run to the stairs in case you run into joshua again.

it was silent, dark, and every move you make echoes throughout the walls of the stairs. halfway through the journey you were already panting and waving your hand on your face as a makeshift fan, seeing ‘floor 4’ on the wall infront of you.

a door opened and closed but with the echoing, it could’ve came from anywhere.

you stop to rest and text your boss it was going good, even though you planned on making a break for it when you finally reach level 1.

as soon as you hit send your phone was snatched out of your hand with aggression, you look up to see joshua. “we never finished our conversation.” he blankly stares, holding your phone as ransom.

you cross your arms and hold your hand out, tapping your foot in annoyance. “may i have my phone back?” “you may have your phone back…. once we finish our conversation.” he replies back, holding the phone behind his back.

“if you don’t give me my phone back, i will scream murder and they will take you to jail.” you threat and your foot tapping getting faster. “there’s no one else in here darling, no one would even hear you,” he smirks to himself as if he won, then putting your phone inside his pants.

your face scrunches at his lame moves, knowing from personal experience he could do much better. “how about, you can have my phone, i’ll just get a new one.” you smirk back and he hums, hearing a text message ‘ding’ coming from in his pants. “that might be important, you should come get it.”

you nod your head and reach your hand in his pants as he wished, digging around to find what you were looking for.

“ahhh there it is, it was so small i almost missed it.” you smirk, cupping his semi-hard dick in your hand, rubbing it slowly until you feel it become fully hard.

after you left him speechless, you grab your phone and walk down the stairs again, texting your boss back. “you were right joshua, it was important.” you call out, not caring if he is following or not.

when you reach level 3, you were pushed against the wall for the second time in the span of 30 minutes, you look up at joshuas eyes and bite the inside of your cheeks again. “you did this to me.” he whispers, glancing down at the very obvious outline in his pants. “yeah and now its your problem.” you spit back, huffing at his aggressive gaze.

joshua pushes his hard on against your pussy that has been aching since the elevator, and hums. “it’s our problem [Y/N], i can tell you’re putting on a brave face, but you want me.”

even if his words were true, you needed to stay strong so you don’t end up as the loser in his game.

“look at you, the desperation in wearing that skin tight leather skirt is all i need to know.” joshua smirks, spreading your legs apart with his knee. “how much you wanna bet you’re soaking in those panties? a slut like you loves when a man is basically begging for your pussy.” he whispers in your ear, moving a hand down to lift up your skirt slowly.

“i-i won’t be, you have no effect on my pussy.” you whisper back, clenching your eyes shut when you feel his hand creeping up your thigh. “you sure?” joshua asks with a chuckle, the wetness running down your leg before he could even make it to your panties.

“i love how i can make you dripping just by my words. you’ve always liked being degraded.” he mumbles and finally reaches your core, his hand stopping when he feels no panties. “were you preparing for this moment? you knew i would find a way to get us alone huh? god you’re so slutty and sexy.” joshua smirks and flicks your clit with his fingers, making your entire body jolt.

“it’s true.” you whimper, not caring about winning or losing his game anymore, you just needed his dick.

joshua lifts you by the waist and pins you to the wall so your legs are spread around him. “sorry doll, no time for foreplay, someone can catch us.”

the thought of someone hearing, or seeing joshua fucking you hard against your work walls made you even wetter, the juice dripping on his pants as you wait for him to take his dick out.

once it was free, he lifts your hips so he could get a good grip on you before slamming as hard as he could inside your pussy. you yell but a hand slapped over your mouth, and tears forming in your eyes. it hurt so good, you wanted to feel him slam in you again without any warning.

joshua bounces you up and down on his large cock, smirking at your already tearful eyes. “its not small now, is it whore? it’s not small when its pounding into you tight wet pussy.” he moans out, thrusting his hips as fast as he can.

his name calling made your walls clench around him, it was your biggest turn on. “you’re so obedient doll, i tell you to spread your legs and here you are, being fucked senseless at your work.” he was panting now and you knew it was going to be a quickie, which you didn’t mind, you were already cumming on his dick as he spoke.

joshua reaches a hand up and wraps it around your slim throat, kissing your lips sloppily. he slurps up the saliva that was running down your mouth from pleasure and hums. “so sexy.” he moans, choking you harder.

“go faster.” you choke out, hearing a chuckle come from his mouth. “this isn’t fast enough for my little cum slut?” he retorts and you clench again at the name.

despite the teasing, he does as you ask, and thrusts as fast as his hips could go, “im about to cum baby, i missed your pussy so much.” he lowly moans, hands still around your neck and kisses your mouth.

joshua gives two more hard thrusts before shooting inside of your guts, pushing deeper in and whimpers against your mouth.

“f-fuck.” he groans when he pulls away from the kiss, resting a hand against the wall so he could hold you up on his waist, still deep inside of your now sensitive pussy. “that was the best hate sex we’ve ever had,” you giggle, twitching everytime he moved inside of you.

joshua finally pulls out of you when he catches his breath and zips his pants up. “lets go back to my hotel and do that again.” he smirks, kissing your neck slowly. “what about the house hunting for your music video?” you ask, tilting your head so he could kiss more of your neck.

“oh, we’re shooting at the beach, i had a free day and got bored.” he admits and you scoff. “you’re such a dick.” you cross your arms and start walking off, joshua catching up to you fast, “i just wanted your pussy, but i will tell your boss you are the best employee, and we spent all day looking at beautiful houses. meanwhile, we’re at my hotel fucking and you get a day off.” he negotiates and you think about it for a second, “alright deal.”

he was satisfied with your response and he grabs your hand but you pull away. “we’re better at hate fucking, not lovey dovey.” he nods in agreement and leaves your workplace with you, heading to his hotel.

“you should come back more though shua, you’re much use to me when you’re here.”

a/n: its 5 am and i just finished, im so tired, i started at 12 am 😂 but i really wanted to get this posted bc i have a busy day tomorrow, hope you enjoy!! my requests are open!!

[srslylini]

The thing about Act 1 of season 2 is that, while in context with the rest of s2 it was bad, they actually did set up a good story and continued season 1 pretty amazingly.

There were still some problems but genuinely most of those problems stem from the rest of the Episodes not delivering and not on the first 3 setting stuff up.

Act 1 giving us the tree being sick? Really good idea, perfect set up even the connection between the hextech and it being sick? Nice as fuck. It's what they did with it (nothing) and how it didn't matter (at all) that destroys Act 1.

Caitlyn's set up was absolutely not bad, and a lot of people were praising it. It made sense for her character and it also didn't seem like they thought she was right. Not with all the other episodes after Act 1, though. Contrary to populer believe I like morally not so good (evil) characters if they make sense. Caitlyns narrative was promising to be interesting they just didn't do anything with it and acted like what she did in Act 1 was fine and excusable and alright. It wasn't. Had they actually done something with what they set up with her, well I wouldn't be standing here now.

They also promised this season being a Vi focused season and while I would say that Act 1 did actually give us a lot of Vi, in context with the other Acts... no. In hindsight there was no need to make her an Enforcer. "But the lore-" I'm gonna stop you right there, they also completely changed Viktors lore, and even Jinx' lore. So?

CaitVi was also something that, in Act 1, I was way more ready to get behind. I was a CaitVi shipper in season 1, I did like their dynamic and wanted it explored. I liked their kiss. I did not like what they did after that. Not Caitlyn hitting Vi and then getting to hit her again and never apologizing. I am a lesbian and here I am telling you: Everything that happened with them was weird.

Act 1 also gave us this genuine good found family between Isha, Sevika and Jinx. It was so moving and well done even in such short of a time (there is still stuff to criticize about it but the consensus is that it is awesome so yk I can overlook certain stuff). And then they turned around and wrote Sevika completely out of the story and killed the plot device that was Isha. When Isha should have mattered.

I didn't even originally dislike how many new characters they introduced because season 1 once mastered characters like this. Maddie seemed promising, until she wasn't. Loris seemed interesting and well thought out until he wasn't. Lest was such a good addition until she was just written out of the show completely. Don't even get me started on Steb.

Ambessas ploy in Act 1 was also something that I genuinely liked. Even Mel figuring out a mystery was good. Until they decided "well that doesn't matter anymore".

In Act 1 I did actually like the subtleties. I liked how Caitlyn saw the Violets and how, in episode 3 of s2 she saw one through her rifles lense (I have no idea what that is called, sue me haha) floating over Jinx. Because it was a nice add on and nothing that would destroy your viewing experience if not noticed, and it wasn't on the nose.

While a lot of directions they took, I was already questioning (the Smeech stuff took up way too much time) I was ready to give that a pass because it didn't destroy anything, yet.

Up until episode 4, it all seemed well enough, and while the prison scene also made me question stuff (that god damn Enforcer pants joke oh my god I will never let that go what was that) it wasn't anything too bad, yet.

The reason Act 1 doesn't work now is because of Act 2 and Act 3. Had Act 1 stood alone or had Act 2 and Act 3 delivered on Act 1, we wouldn't have that much of a problem. As it is the further Acts destroy what Act 1 seemed to carefully build up.

In the end what seemed purposefully and artistically done in Act 1 now seems like something the writers actually believe.

[theonceandfuturequeenoftarts]

Wipper snipper

Oh boy! Thank you so much for the tags, @hikarimeroperiddle and @riverxsong-ao3~ ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡

Most of the things I've been working on lately aren't shareable yet (holiday giftfics and FTH), so here's a snippet I've been debating including in the ace ABO fic (complete, but not really complete). I'm not sure if this is the direction I want to go, and even more uncertain whether that fic's readership would be comfortable with it, so this may be the only time you see this:

Harry’s asexual, not dead. He can recognise that someone is attractive in the abstract, even if he has no intention or desire to do anything about it. He occasionally masturbates (like, once or twice a month, maybe) and it feels fine. It's just the idea of bringing someone else into the mix makes him lose interest faster than Ron when all the sandwiches are corned beef. But sometimes... Sometimes, he looks at Tom and feels things he never has before. “Do you ever think about it?” he asks, staring at the shadows dancing across the ceiling. “Do I ever think about what?” Tom mumbles in reply. Whoops. He had been closer to sleep than Harry’d thought. “Oh god, sorry, don’t listen to me. I’ll leave you alone to rest.” Tom rolls over so he’s pinning Harry’s left shoulder to the mattress with his warm, boneless weight. “Hmmm, no, you woke me up, now you have to explain,” he says into the crook of Harry’s neck, hot breath on skin making Harry shiver. “What’s on your mind?” He can’t predict how this will land. “Uh. Sex.” He can feel how every single muscle in Tom’s body goes tense from where they’re pressed together, but if he couldn’t he wouldn’t even think Tom had heard him. “What brought this on?” Tom's voice is a little more alert, but still soft and even. “I’m not exactly sure," Harry says, tongue sticking in his suddenly dry mouth. “I just. I think, if it was with you, it’d be okay.” Wryly, Tom says, “Why Harry, you old romantic, you.” Harry huffs. "Shove off." After a few moments of silence, Tom adds, “To clarify: are you asking to have sex with me, or are you offering to have sex if I want to?” “Uh. The latter.” “Hmm.”  Harry can’t help but feel he gave the wrong answer. [...] “You figured out my devious scheme: spend ten years wooing you – while living and sleeping together, and being mated for six of those years, mind you–" "Oh, for Merlin's sake–"  “No, no – the truth finally comes out,” Tom says with sleepy melodrama. “I always knew you were only with me for my body.” Harry grabs a stray pillow and thwaps a chuckling Tom on the head with it, letting loose a relieved laugh of his own.

No-pressure tagging @chaos-bear, @toast-ranger-to-a-stranger, @thefangirlibrarian, @floatingdandelionseeds, @tommarvoloriddlesdiary, @known-concepts, @mosiva, @liquidluckandstuff, @kippipies

( ˘ ³˘)♥︎ ( ˘ ³˘)♥︎ ( ˘ ³˘)♥︎

[everlastingdreams]

The Weeping Monk x Fem!Reader : Forged Of Fire Chapter 24

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Story Summary: Raised under the tiranny of your own family, and forced to steal to earn your keep, you struggle to survive. Born from a Fey mother, and a Manblood father who wanted only sons, you are forced to hide your Fey side. When you are ordered to steal from Father Carden by your half-brother, Cassian, your life spirals out of control and you find yourself at the mercy of the Weeping Monk. The life you knew changes drastically when Cassian betrays you in the cruelest of ways. A trade is made, a promise is broken, and a debt must be paid.

Chapter Title: The Baker And The Monk.

Notes: Looking back, I'm surprised how big this story got. Wasn't my intention lol.

Warnings: Angst. Hurt. Trauma bonding. Intrafamily violence. Depression. Self-harm. Suicidal thoughts. Violence. Torture. Gore. Pining. Trauma. Self-Flagellation. Manipulation. Strong Language. Blood. Misogyny. PTSD. Spicy and smut parts. Slight redemption arc. Lima/Stockholm syndrom-ish. Childhood trauma.

Other warnings: Jealousy. Forced Marriage. Forbidden Love. Romance. Slow-burn. Found Familly-ish. Comfort. Fluff. !SMUT and SPICE!

Word count of this fic: +250K

Chapter:  24/47

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The others were still asleep in the morning when you had gone downstairs in the inn to drink some soup and enjoy a peaceful quiet moment alone before having to face the Monk again. Where to go from here? What with Percival, did he still have parents or was the boy on his own? There were a lot of things to think about and it was hard to come to a solid decision or plan. Your peaceful moment alone was interrupted when a man approached the table you were sitting at.

“I noticed you are sitting alone, care for some company to talk to?” He seemed rather friendly.

You were in doubt. “I fear I will not be very talkative.”

He did not give up just yet. “I’m quite the opposite, if you wish to offer a listening ear I might entertain you?”

It was starting to intrigue you. “What would you speak of?”

The man was an open book. “My successes and failures as a baker.”

“Fine.” You decided. “Take a seat. Start with the failures.”

He chuckled and took the chair opposite of you. This baker, whom was named Charles, was a friendly fella that loved to chat with anyone who would listen. Hearing how the life of another was so different compared to yours was refreshing. There was no talk of paladins or the war. It was just a baker speaking of his occupation with an enthusiasm not many still had. For just a moment, you forgot about your own situation and let yourself be carried into the story of another. That lasted until you saw the man look at something behind you, the Monk had came down the stairs and his attire was drawing attention. His attention however was solely on you, and how quickly you were to get to your feet and hurry over to him.

“Your surcoat!” you quietly scolded. “Do you want everyone to know we are hiding in this inn?!”

As you pulled at his arm to lead him back up the stairs, the innkeeper caught your eye and beckoned you over. With a small heart you went over to her.

She was drying off a tankard. “I was under the impression that you didn’t want anyone to notice he was here.”

It was a correct assumption. “You’re right, I’ll talk to him.”

“He’ll bring trouble in those clothes.” She nodded in his direction.

The Monk was watching the conversation, still waiting for you by the stairs. You were aware it was pulling attention to him. “It’s not our intention to-”

She put the linen towel down. “Follow me through the kitchen. I may have something in my quarters, he looks the size of my late husband.”

That was an offer you did not reject, you made eye-contact with the Monk and tilted your head to call him over. He understood the silent request and crossed the large room to where you were waiting.

“The innkeeper may have some less holy clothes for you.” you told him.

Before he could react to the jest, the innkeeper spoke up.

“The name is ‘Amelia’.” She proceeded to lead you through the kitchen of the inn, another door was opened and led into her large quarters. Amelia went to the large wardrobe and opened it’s doors. “Pick out a couple of clothes. Come back to the inn when you’re done.”

You thanked her as she walked past, she murmured something about how her late husband wouldn’t need them anymore. Her generosity was surprising, perhaps she had not always been as fortunate as she was now. The Monk had not set one foot in the direction of the wardrobe.

“Go on. See if you can find something in there for you.” you encouraged.

Slowly he walked to the wardrobe, and tentatively touched a shirt. “It was not my intention to cause you trouble. I had not considered that my clothes would be so noticed here.”

You strolled around the room somewhat impatiently. “A monk in an inn will always draw attention.”

He hummed in agreement. “I had not even noticed.”

That was strange to hear considering how perceptive he could be. “That isn’t like you, often you were the first to notice something out of the ordinary.”

The truth escaped him when he picked up a light grey shirt that interested him. “When I woke and saw that you were no longer in the room with us, my only concern was finding you.” The weight of his confession hit a second later, he almost looked in your direction but stopped himself just in time. A black leather jerkin caught his eye next and he took it from under the stack of clothes on top of it.

“You thought I had run off again.” you stated what was so obvious now.

He swallowed hard and shook some dust from the jerkin. “Yes.”

“I would.” You crossed your arms over your chest, finally daring to face him. “But you did not arrive here alone, there is a child up in that room who needs someone to look after him. Where are his parents?”

The Monk told you what the boy had mentioned to him. “They’re gone.”

It wrangled at your heart to hear it. “What now?”

Not even he seemed to know what to do, it wasn’t like he had experience with raising and looking after children, because even though Percival acted mature for his age he was still just a boy under that hardened character.

He walked towards the bed in the room and put down his choice of clothing, then began to take off his cloak. “He picked up a sword to fight the Trinity Guard, to save me. I will do all that is in my power to ensure he will be safe.”

“How?” It slipped out.

His hands slowed down on their task, his voice got quieter. “I had hoped to not be the only one watching over Percival’s well-being. He could use someone gentle of heart.”

It clicked right away what he was suggesting. “Using a child as leverage to keep me with you?” You scoffed and turned to head towards the door.

He caught you by the arm to stop you. “What must I do for you to forgive me?”

You pulled yourself free from his hold. “Stop trying to stop me every time I want to get away from you, that would be a good start! If you let me be free, I might be more inclined to seek out your company.”

It was something he would need to learn, to let what he was so protective over run free in this world full of dangers he had hoped to shield you from.

His hand moved along your arm until it could take hold of your hand. “It does not have it’s roots in trying to have control over you. I-…” A long pause fell. “I felt the loss of you for a day and it was worse than any punishment forced upon me. Hate me, scream at me, harm me… I surrender to your will. But I beg you, stay.”

You were hoping he could not feel how your body was trembling in response to his plea. “Lancelot, I don’t know if I can after what happened.”

He knew why you were so cautious towards him. “I needed no order from Father to wish for your trust. I meant what I said to you once, you are important to me.”

“Because I was the key to achieving Father Carden’s praise and love for you.” It came out bitter.

“No.”

“No?”

He stepped away. It wasn’t until he continued to dress down that you noticed how much his hands were shaking. “Your presence brings me solace.”

You crossed your arms again, hugging yourself for some comfort. “I hope this is not some elaborate plan to regain my trust and take me back to the paladins.”

He almost looked over his shoulder to you. “Do you think so low of me?”

Your eyes turned cold. “Why do you think that is?”

He swallowed his tongue.

You sighed. “But I trust Percival to be truthful.”

Not him… of course not.

You hated how you couldn’t help but look when he bared his torso and let the ruined clothes drop to the floor. “Your wounds look better than they did last night.”

It was as if he had already forgotten them when he looked down at his healing injuries. “I owe it to your kindness. I doubt you had ointment at hand to use.”

So he knew you must have went out and searched for herbs to make the ointment. It told him you still must have felt a form of attachment towards him. “You’re lucky I know how to make one.”

He slipped the shirt on and inspected its fit. “Indeed.”

To distract yourself, you strolled around the room a little. “Just so you know, I will be referring to you by your actual name in this place. It is best we do not draw attention to ourselves. I hope others here did not figure out already that you are a monk, it would starts rumors and rumors can spread to the paladins and lead them here.”

He had not a single objection to that. “That is alright.”

Suddenly he winced, a pained sound escaped him when he had tried to put the jerkin on.

You approached him right away. “Let me help.”

Again, he had not a single objection when you began to close the leather belts of the jerkin. When you gave a stronger tug on one of them, a chuckle fell out of him. “Is this an attempt to murder me?”

You rolled your eyes at the jest. “Don’t be so dramatic.”

The smile remained on his lips. He almost seemed to enjoy the slightly rougher handling.

“What happens now? Will Father Carden not wish for you to return?” you asked.

He was not sure what to expect. “I do not know. But returning will not be possible, news will have spread of my heritage by now.”

You finished closing the last belt and took a small step back. “And if they were to want you back…?”

He shook his head. “With broken faith? And after what I did? The only reason they would want me back is to kill me.” His eyes locked on your face. “Besides that reason, I know that if I were to return to them you would never forgive me.”

It was a correct assumption. “You’re right. I wouldn’t.”

He gave a nod. “It goes without saying that we should stay out of the sights of paladins. And I will try to see if I can find us a place that will be safer than here.”

Easier said than done. “Won’t be simple. We have not much more than horses and the weapons you carry.”

“We have coin.” He said oh so matter-of-factually, as if you knew what he was speaking of.

“What?” you blurted out.

He was confused for a second. “I-… I always have a pouch of coin with me as I travel. One never knows when it is needed.” Upon seeing your expression change, he asked, “Were you concerned there was none to survive on?”

Him having coin did not mean it would help you too. “Well, it’s your coin. Not mine.”

A frown creased his forehead. Realization hit. “Do you truly think that I would not share what I have with you? What is mine, is yours. You are my wife.”

You took a step away and handed him back his cloak. “Our marriage is nothing but an arrangement that has benefited everyone but myself.”

He held the cloak in his hand, feeling frozen in time and place. “Then it is time I prove what benefits this arrangement will provide for you.”

It had you mildly intrigued, but you didn’t dare to show it. “Put your cloak back on. I hope Percival is still upstairs in the room.”

He did as asked. “He was still asleep when I came to find you.”

You headed for the door to the kitchen, him speaking your name made you stop. He came closer again, stopping right in front of your nose. He intended to take hold of your hand but you moved it back a little and it made him abandon the idea.

He spoke in a quiet manner, “If it would put your mind at rest, I will go and fetch the coin from Goliath’s saddlebag and put it in your possession?”

You blinked. “Maybe you should fetch that pouch from the saddlebag before someone else does?”

His expression changed instantly, as if he had not even thought about the possibility of someone stealing it. “I-… One moment.”

Lancelot walked out of the room, through the kitchen and the inn, to outside. After everything, it was not strange for it to be forgotten or overlooked. It was also somewhat amusing to see him hurry out of the inn because of it. You on the other hand went back up the stairs up to your room after thanking Amelia and asking her for two bowls of broth. When you went inside, you found Percival starting to wake up. The scent of the broth was enough to wake him up fully.

“Good morning.” You handed him a bowl.

Percival mumbled the same in reply and went towards the bed. You cleared your throat to get his attention and he saw you point at the table. With a small sigh, he took place at the table to eat his broth. Just as he sat down, Lancelot entered the room and he went straight over to you. A pouch was put into your hand before you could even think to protest it.

Percival eyed you curiously. “What’s that?”

He told the boy the truth, “Coin.”

Percival’s eyes fell on the pouch again, slightly widened and very interested.

Lancelot noticed it right away. “She has a satchel to carry it in.”

The idea he fed was clearly aimed at you, but you were still a bit taken aback by the weight of the pouch that he had put into your hand. Never had Aldith or Cassian let you carry this much coin on you, they were quick to take it if they knew you had some savings. And for it to just be put into your hands now like it was nothing…

Even the boy had noticed the strange familiarity between you and him. “Are you friends?”

Your attention snapped to Percival, who was looking between you and Lancelot like he was trying to figure it out. Lancelot did not answer, he was looking at you to see what you would say. The last thing you wanted to do was alarm the boy by telling him that the friendship between you and Lancelot had come to a sour end not long ago, Percival barely knew the two of you and it would make more uncomfortable questions arise.

“We are.” you said, and noticed how relieved Lancelot looked.

“How?” Percival looked at Lancelot. “You killed the Fey, then how come you’re friends with her?”

Again he looked at you for an answer, but this time you gave him a look back that let him know that this was his answer to give. Lancelot struggled to explain it. “Father made an exception for her.”

The boy fired another question, “Why?”

He kept looking at you for help in this. “Because she is Ash Folk, as I am.”

“He only let Ash Folk live?” Percival frowned.

“The broth is getting cold. Eat Percival.” You turned to Lancelot. “The other bowl is yours.”

Lancelot was quick to ask, “Have you eaten?”

You gave a nod. “I had soup before you came down to the inn.”

Only then did he take the offer of the broth and took place opposite of Percival. You stashed the pouch of coins into your satchel.

You sat down on the bed for a moment, then let yourself fall back onto the mattress to look up at the ceiling. “You could use some more of that medicine I have given you, Lancelot. Charles told me that the market in this village is available for wares here everyday.”

His spoon stilled midway to his mouth. “ ‘Charles’?”

“The baker I was talking to before you came down the stairs.” you informed.

He continued to eat. “You wish to visit this market then?”

Your eyes closed. “I think it is necessary, that medicine will dull the pain for now, but when it wears off…”

“It would indeed be wise to be prepared.” He agreed to the idea. “Shall we go after this meal?”

Percival gave a ‘yes’ with his mouth stuffed full, earning a scolding look from the Ash Man.

“That’s fine.” you stretched your arms behind your head, enjoying the soft bed. Humming contentedly. A slight cold chill crept over the skin of your waist where it was exposed by your clothes that had moved up a little, it was not bothersome.

“Don’t you like the broth?” Percival suddenly asked.

You turned your head to look at the table and saw how Lancelot turned his head towards the boy. Percival was looking at him curiously, and perhaps hopeful that he would get the other bowl of broth for himself. Lancelot cleared his throat, and took a spoonful of the broth in his mouth in response to that. You smiled at the hint of disappointment in Percival’s expression and made a mental note to make certain the boy would have a proper set of meals every day as long as you could provide him with such.

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  The walk to the market was rather odd, you had to keep a focused eye on Percival who showed a tendency to wander off alone. Lancelot did not seem all too comfortable among the busy crowd, he was constantly looking around himself.

“Try to be calm.” you told him. “You’ll hurt your neck if you keep turning it so much.”

He picked up on the jesting tone. “How can you be so calm?”

You stopped at a stall with small curiosities. “I’ve spend days living among the enemy. It’s nothing new.”

It was a small lie. Being among a crowd was causing you distress but you did not want to draw attention, so you pretended all was well.

Lancelot noticed Percival had taken an interest in a stall a little further away and caught the boy by the vest before he could disappear in the crowd. “Remain in my sight.”

“It’s not my fault if your eyes are bad.” Percival bluntly said.

He took on a more firmer tone. “Stay.”

Percival rolled his eyes and came to stand a little closer to you, looking down at all the small bits and trinkets on the stall. Visiting a market was something you had not done in quite some time and it was the first time you weren’t doing it alone.

“I can see a stall further up ahead that is selling medicine.” Lancelot informed you.

He leaded the way to the stall, a friendly old lady was selling some basic necessities for those who dabbled in medicine. There was a certain set of herbs that you needed to make more of that ointment you had made but the seller had no stock of it. Another trip into the forest for them would be warranted. Fortunately she did have a few vials of medicine for when Lancelot’s fever and pain would return. When it was time to pay, for the first time you found out just how much there was actually in the pouch of coins. The small gasp from you made the others look.

Lancelot came closer, noticing your startled reaction to the contents of the pouch, by doing so he blocked the view others could have on it. “May I?”

Was he truly asking if he could use his own coin to pay for the medicine? It was such a ludicrous thing. “Of course.”

He took two small coins out and handed them to the seller whilst putting the pouch back into the safety of your satchel, then put the vials into it as well. Your attention was pulled away from him when Percival lightly tugged at your sleeve.

“Can we get a sweetroll?” The boy asked so very carefully.

Out of reflex you looked at Lancelot for an answer, before reminding yourself that he had said that the coin was yours just as much as it was his. “I believe we can?”

A sweetroll, after how brave the child had been to step into the Trinity Guard fight with him? It was the very least he could give in return.

Lancelot noted the doubt and put your mind at ease. “Yes.” He relied on his nose to find what the boy was asking for. “Over there.”

For you it was still hard to distinct all the scents, especially in a place so filled with all sorts of kinds.

Lancelot gave Percival an encouraging nudge against the back once at the stall that sold the sweetrolls. “They are fresh.” Then he looked at you with a knowing look. “Can you tell?”

You shook your head. “No.”

“No?” he asked curiously.

There was no ill intent behind his question, you could tell. This was just him being curious how well your sense of smell was now.

Percival pointed at a sweetroll, one that looked a little larger than the others of course. “I want that one.”

Lancelot hoped to improve Percival’s manners and corrected his way of asking for something. " ‘May I have that one?’ "

Percival did not pick up on what was being gently taught to him. “I saw it first.”

You turned your head, covering your mouth to stifle a laugh.

“I meant-” Lancelot sighed, but he did not want to make this more confusing. He would speak to the boy about this later. “Alright.”

Percival became far more cheery when he could eat his sweetroll on the way back to the inn. On your way there, the path got more crowded with people, and after having been alone so often the crowd felt overwhelming. Seeing a threat coming felt impossible like this. People were almost walking against or into you constantly, the many voices flooded your ears, you began to lose sight on where you were and where you were going. Your heart was beating too fast, there was not enough air getting into your lungs. What on earth was happening…

“Are you alright?” Percival suddenly asked.

No. No, you were not. “I…”

Just before someone else could walk into you, Lancelot placed himself close to you, using his form as a barrier against the crowd. “What is wrong? You look unwell.”

It felt embarrassing to say it. “There’s too many people.”

Lancelot looked around him for a moment and spotted a smaller and less crowded path. “We’ll take that path instead. Come.”

You barely registered that he had placed a hand on your back to guide you along. The second you were out of the crowd, you leaned against a wall to recover.

Percival looked so very worried. “Are you sick?”

“No. I’m not used to being around so many people so closely anymore.” You hoped he wouldn’t ask why that was. “I can’t even see if there’s paladins around.”

Lancelot spoke. “Do not worry. I will notice them.”

He saw the look in your eyes change, it twisted a dagger into his gut. You did not trust that he would warn you if he saw paladins…

The boy touched your arm to comfort you. “It’s alright.”

No one expected for Percival to offer you the last bit of the sweetroll, it instantly made you feel a bit better.

“No, thank you.” you refused the sweet offer. “Did that sweetroll make you so sweet, or were you always like this?”

Percival’s face flushed a little, especially when he saw the slight grin on Lancelot’s face who saw it happen.

Lancelot came closer, supporting you by the arm to see if you were stable enough to walk. “Are you certain you do not wish for something to eat or drink?”

You pried his fingers loose from your arm. “I’ll be alright. Let’s get back to the inn before we run into paladins.”

The Ash Man kept a sharp eye on you whilst the three of you walked back to the inn. Percival and him picked out the lesser crowded paths and at some point you ended up on a narrow cobblestone street. Houses were build left and right in a long line and at the end of that street was a blacksmith working at his forge.

Lancelot came to a halt. “Do you mind stopping here for a moment?”

Of course he would be curious to see what sort of weapons this village had to offer. “Go ahead.”

He gave a grateful tilt of the head and approached the blacksmith, you and Percival followed suit.

“Good day.” The blacksmith gave a greeting nod and halted his work, wiping the sweat from his forehead.

“Good day.” Lancelot greeted just as polite. “Do you have wares for sale?”

“I do.” The blacksmith pointed at the house beside the forge. “My daughter keeps charge of the shop. Feel welcome.”

Whilst walking the short distance to the shop, you discreetly handed Lancelot the pouch. “In case you need it.”

He tucked it under his sword belt, in those few seconds Percival had already walked into the shop and reminded you both that this child would walk right through fire if there was something he wanted on the other side. Lancelot followed him inside immediately and grabbed hold on the back of the boy’s jacket. One look at the boy and Percival knew that Lancelot was serious about staying in sight.

A woman who looked your age was cleaning one of the many swords inside the store, she halted her task right away when she saw Lancelot. “Hello, is there something you seek? We have many weapons a man such as yourself would love to have.”

You noticed how it took her a little too long to even notice you were in the store too, not that she seemed to care, her eyes were glued to Lancelot from the second he had stepped inside. It irked you, a feeling you suppressed, this woman had done you no wrong.

“A sword.” he answered her.

She gestured for him to follow and leaded him to a wall with swords on display. “See something you like?”

Oh, it could not be more obvious that she was not talking about the swords then. Even Percival noted an undertone in her voice and looked up at her questioningly. The Ash Man said nothing, his gaze waved over the wall of swords and then he picked one off of the wall. He created some distance and spun the sword in his hand a few times.

“No.” he said, dissatisfied. The sword was placed back and another was put to the test, and another… and another…

You were watching the picky twit, starting to feel embarrassed for how he turned down sword after sword. “What exactly are you looking for?”

He smiled at the slightly annoyed tone. “Balance.”

“Balance?” Percival parroted. “It’s a sword. You just have to hit someone with it.”

He inspected the crossguard of the sword whilst explaining it to the boy. “A sword must have a good balance to control it well. It must be strong, not just the blade but the pommel and crossguard as well. A blade alone will not offer much aid in a sword fight without a strong pommel.”

The blacksmith’s daughter approached him now that he was just looking at the details of the pommel. “Spoken as a true swordsman. You are in need of a new sword then?”

She placed her hand on his lower arm, he looked at her hand right away. The sight of it bothered you, it shouldn’t have, not after all that had happened.

“No.” He finally read her intentions from her face. “It is for her.”

You saw him gesture your way and stared back at him in surprise. A sword, for you? Truly?

“Oh… I see… of course.” she stammered and stepped back.

When he beckoned for you to come closer, you became very aware of the sets of eyes on you. It felt a little awkward to approach him.

Upon seeing the reluctance, he approached you himself. He stood at your side and placed the sword into your hands, with your state from earlier in mind he behaved as gentle as he knew he could be. “See? Perfectly balanced steel. The right length for you to wield, a strong crossguard that can be used as a weapon in itself.”

The enthusiasm with which he spoke was infectious, if someone knew what sort of sword was good it had to be him. And with the way he was touching your arm and hands, you struggled to fully focus on the details of the sword he was explaining about.

He stood half against you. “What do you think? Do you like it?”

“Yes.” It flopped out, as if air decided to flee your lungs before the rest of your body could.

He looked at the shopkeeper. “We’ll take the sword.”

“Very well.” She sounded a little disappointed that he wasn’t interested in the other matters that she had wanted to offer.

He made an observation. “She needs a belt and sheath for it.”

“Of course.” She went to a hook on the wall that held multiple sorts of belts and helped you pick one out, then she attached the sheath to it.

Lancelot approved of the ensemble and was seemingly wondering if there could be more added to the belt that would be useful. “A small pouch for it?”

That sure sounded handy to store small things in. “I’d love that.”

With a polite gesture of his hand, he told the shopkeeper to add it to the ensemble. Then there you stood, with a proper weapon belt and a sword at your hip, the joy it brought was refreshing.

“Will that be all?” The shopkeeper asked.

Percival piped up, “I want a knife.”

“No.” Lancelot denied that request.

The boy fired back. “Mine was stolen! By the people you lived with.”

The way the child glared at him and gave him a warning look… It was a blessing that he had not referred to them as paladins.

Lancelot looked at you for advice. Was it proper to give the young boy a knife?

You mistook the look he gave. “If the sword is too costly for Percival to get a knife, I will manage without a sword.”

He sighed and looked towards the shopkeeper. “Do you have something appropriate for one of his age to use?”

“My ‘age’ ?” Percival glared at him. “What’s that got to do with it?”

You snorted a laugh, curious how Lancelot was going to talk himself out of this one. And apparently he considered it wise to not answer Percival’s bait for a battle. Thankfully the shopkeeper sensed the mood of the boy shifting in the wrong direction and quickly handed a knife to Lancelot.

He inspected the knife before giving it to Percival. “Good?”

The boy got very cheery instantly again, and with a wide grin he nodded up to him. The sword and knife were paid for and the shopkeeper bid you all a good evening. Indeed evening had arrived over the land, there were far less people on the streets now. With a sword that you could rest your hand on, you felt more at ease. Had this been Lancelot’s intention, for you to feel less threatened by the crowd? It worked.

    ~~~♡~~~♡~~~♤~~~♡~~~♡~~~

  Before entering the inn, the three of you stopped by the horses. They were indeed being fed and taken care of, the innkeeper was one of the better ones out there it seemed.

“I miss Bear.” you said quietly whilst brushing the coat of the horse, that you had stolen from the paladins, with some straw. Lancelot was beside you, tending to Goliath’s coat.

Percival had heard it too. “Who’s ‘Bear’?”

“My own horse.” you told him. “This is the one I stole from the paladins. He’s sweet too, but he’s not Bear.”

The boy pouted a bit. “Where is Bear?”

You sighed. “Still at the paladin camp, I think.”

“He will be alright.” Lancelot reassured. “A good horse is always valuable, they will treat him well.”

You hoped he was right about that. “I hope so.”

After tending to the horses, you headed into the inn. The scent of warm potatoes and vegetables hanged inside the place, it was a warm welcome to your nostrils.

“I’m hungry.” Percival said the second you walked into the inn.

“I will ask the innkeeper for meals. Do we eat in the room?” you asked them.

“Yes.” Lancelot was quick to reply. The visit to the market had been enough risks for the day.

He did not have the heart to remind the boy that he had eaten a sweetroll not long ago, considering one of the ways to win the war against the Fey had been to burn their mills to cause famine amongst them.

As you walked towards the bar, he took Percival up to the room. Amelia was already looking at you, awaiting the interaction whilst she brushed a stray lock of her curly black hair behind her ear.

“That is a fine looking sword.” She nodded down at the sword resting at your hip. “Went to the market then?”

The wish for small talk was shared. “Yes. I needed more medicine for my friend.”

Her eyes narrowed for a blink. “That man you are with is your ‘friend’?”

Friend… it was the only way you could describe him that wouldn’t draw attention.

You worried what her reaction meant. “Yes…”

“I thought he was your lover.” She shrugged her shoulders. “And the boy?”

Rumors could be born so easily… at least Amelia was not afraid to ask for the truth. “Percival’s parents died, he only has us now.”

She hummed and filled some plates with the stew she had prepared for those at the inn. Her voice was just loud enough for you to hear. “Not many know what the Weeping Monk looks like, the people speak of him as if he is a ghost. Those who have not seen his face, or heard the stories, will not recognize him. But I have heard the stories. So tell me, should I be concerned?”

Your hands got clammy. She knew… she knew… “He is not a ghost, nor a monster. He will do you no harm.”

At least you hoped that was true, and that this was not some elaborate plan of his to get your trust back and return you to Father Carden.

She stared you down for a second, then gave a nod and placed the plates in front of your nose. “Be careful. Someone like him must have dangerous enemies, do not find yourself in the midst of it.”

If only she knew that you were already standing in the midst of it all. You took the plates to carefully carry them up the stairs. “Thank you for the meals.”

“You’re welcome. And once your ‘friend’-” she truly enunciated the word, “-feels better, do ask him if he could be so kind to move some of the lumber from behind the inn inside for the fireplace. There is no rush, but I would appreciate the help.”

It was a small favor to ask for in return for the hospitality she had shown. “I will ask. And he is truly just a friend, that is already complicated enough as it is.”

Her voice got a little louder, as if she meant to embarrass you in a playful way, “Perhaps it is complicated because he keeps imagining all the sins he would commit if he were to get you into bed.”

It caused your cheeks to burn. You tried to hush her. “What?! No! Of course not! He’s not like that-”

She arched a brow after you said the last part. “He’s not?”

Doubt was dripping off her tone and her expression, it only got you more flustered. She was such an open personality, unafraid to voice her thoughts and opinions and you found yourself at their mercy.

“He’s not.” you said firmly. Aware that your expression did not match the confidence of your voice.

A cheeky laugh escaped her. “Alright, don’t get so nervous. Who would I be to judge you for seeking some comfort in the arms of a monk?”

You rolled your eyes and turned away from her, carrying the plates in hand to carry them up the stairs. “You should write a book with that kind of imagination, Amelia.”

A laugh rippled through her chest and the sound followed you up the stairs, it wasn’t until you were in the room and had closed the door that you finally stopped hearing it. You placed the plates of stew down on the table. Percival was at the table not a blink of an eye later, Lancelot was more patient in his approach. He did not sit down yet when he saw you ignore the meal to attach your dagger to your new belt as well.

You finally noticed once you were done with the task. “Go on, sit. You don’t have to wait for me, you need your meals to get healthy again.”

“So do you.” he said whilst taking seat beside Percival.

You took the remaining plate of stew to eat on the bed. “How are your wounds? Is that ointment still working?”

“It is wearing off I believe.” He took a bite. “The vials will bring some relief.”

Those vials were good for fever, but you were not sure how well it would work against dirt getting into the wounds. “But you need ointment to protect you from infections, and it helps to quicken the process of healing. I’ll go search for what I need after the meal.”

He shook his head. “Tomorrow is better.”

You frowned. “But-”

He would not hear it. “There is no need to scour the woods for me at night. I will not perish within hours. You should concern yourself over your own health more, have your own bruises even healed yet?”

“ Fine, I’ll go tomorrow.” you agreed to it. “And they’re almost gone.”

“How did you get bruises?” Percival asked with his mouth full.

“Paladins.” You spared the boy of the darker truth, drank the last of the broth that was left of the stew and put the plate down on the bed.

Lancelot scolded the boy for the lack of manners. “Do not talk with a full mouth.”

“Why?” Percival asked with his mouth still full.

“It is not proper.”

“Why?”

Lancelot sighed when the boy kept speaking whilst he chewed. “I can see right into your mouth. It ruins the appetite.”

Percival rolled his eyes and finally swallowed the food down. “Then don’t look.”

Those two conversing was so entertaining to watch. Lancelot trying to help the boy learn some manners, whilst the boy reacted to it as if Lancelot was exaggerating. The patience he had with the child was admirable. You watched their entire interaction, and Percival proved quite talented at trying to change the topic when it was most convenient for him.

An unexpected question of the boy derailed their entire conversation. “That man that talked to you before you fought those masked paladins, why did he ask if I could smell the Fey? Can you smell who is Fey?”

Lancelot had finished his plate not long after Percival had, and confirmed what the boy believed to be true. “Ash Folk have a strong sense of smell. Fey kind gives of a different sort of scent than Manblood.”

The boy looked somewhat confused. “Different how?”

He leaned back into the chair. “Imagine it as a cloak hanging over them at all times, a fresh scent much like young grass. It is different for all Fey, but it always smells similar to what one can find in the woods.”

You had never been able to put the scent into words, but his description made complete sense. “It prickles the nose.”

His attention turned to you. “Yes.”

“But not in a bad way.” you assured Percival. “I can’t pick up on scents as good as he can, but his description fits.”

Lancelot was glad to hear that you experienced it in a similar way. “I can ignore most scents, it would overwhelm my senses too greatly otherwise. But I will always notice the Fey scent.”

“Because you used it to find us?” Percival was starting to piece the puzzle together again.

Lancelot gave a small nod, aware how even the boy must have realized how terrible it was that a Fey had used his abilities against his own kind.

It lead Percival to chase the truth. “Why were you with them? If you’re Fey, why did you fight against us?”

You didn’t want this to end in trouble. “Percival-”

“It’s alright.” Lancelot said to you. “He has a right to know.”

You rose from the bed and approached Percival, leaning onto the back of the chair with your arm as Lancelot began his story. He told the boy how he ended up in the hands of Father Carden, what was expected of him and why. Percival had not been so quiet in quite some time, often a look of confusion set in his eyes to which Lancelot explained a little more.

“Do you really think we’re damned?” The boy asked.

Lancelot got quieter. “I do not know what to believe anymore.”

Percival looked down for a second, chewing his lip. “But you won’t hurt the Fey anymore?”

That was at least one thing he was certain of. “No. Not unless it is to defend us from danger.”

To the boy it was an agreeable condition. Percival still had some questions that were a little less hard to answer, mostly about how monks lived and how they prayed. You did notice that Lancelot was careful not to mention how they used the scourge on themselves. The memory of the wounds he had inflicted upon himself the last time he had done so was etched into your mind, you doubted those were not still hurting him even just sitting there.

    “Alright.” You grabbed their empty plates. “Whilst you two talk further, I’m taking these downstairs before it attracts flies into the room.”

They barely acknowledged the announcement, Percival was too engulfed in what Lancelot was telling him and Lancelot was too concentrated on not saying something that the boy was too young to hear about. So you headed down to the inn, Amelia was sweeping the floor and gave a grateful nod when she saw you carrying the plates down.

“To lessen some of your workload.” You held the plates up. “Do I put them in the kitchen?”

“Please do. Thank you.” She continued her task of cleaning the inn for the night.

The baker, Charles, was still up and sat at a table alone, you had to walk past him to go to the kitchen. “Care to offer a listening ear again, or perhaps accept one for yourself?”

You walked past him. “My ears always listen. I’ll put these in the kitchen first.”

Once you returned from the kitchen, he was awaiting your presence and leaned over the table to move the other chair so you could sit. Again he told of his life, about how before he became a baker he dreamed of being a bard, and when he offered to play on his lute you had to tell him that those already asleep in the inn upstairs might not appreciate the music at that hour. He was rather sweet, it was nice to listen to him talk. He had some quite amusing stories to tell about how some patrons would empty out a loaf of bread and try to return the shell of it to get their coin back.

Charles leaned a little closer over the table, his hands wrapped around the tankard that was long since emptied. “And you, what sort of stories can you tell me?”

It made you get evasive. “I’m not that interesting.”

He tsk-ed. “Nonsense. I see stories in those beautiful eyes.”

“‘Beautiful eyes’?” A chuckle escaped you. It had been a while since such flattery had been aimed your way.

“Not used to flattery?” he sounded surprised. “Hard to believe from someone like you.”

“Someone like me?” You had a cheeky grin.

“I enjoy your company and would love to enjoy it for the rest of the night.” Charles made no secret of his intentions, especially when he reached over to place a hand over your own.

A plate was put down on the table between you and Charles, who jolted back in his chair from the loud clattering it made. You reacted the same way, your heartbeat spiked. It was not Amelia who had put the plate down on the table, no, Lancelot had brought down your empty plate that you had forgotten upstairs in the room.

“I’m sorry, who are you?” Charles asked rightfully irritated.

    "Her husband.”

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[un-pearable]

internally: decent movie. more tolerable than the previous for most parts. rewatchable. FINALLY has a soundtrack that sounds like sonic and DOESNT have gratuitous plot-irrelevant human scenes. sonic gets to do sonic stuff!!!!! characterization makes sense given previous movies and (very slightly) nudges him towards something potentially interesting. not inventive AT ALL (missing everything intriguing about SA2) but could be worse

externally: while some lore omissions make sense given the world established by the previous films, those choices are boring and others they make are completely baffling changes. rouge omission harms the whole thing. i dislike the entire direction they’ve taken with their sonic characterization and the themes and they fundamentally miss key traits for everyone involved . why did we do this. what was the point

it’s fun. more consistently enjoyable than the previous but that’s mostly bc the scenes that bothered me with the aggressive Carryness had tails in them so i could just watch him be cute.

lore change to make him another mystery alien is annoying but frustratingly makes sense given the context. i’m not torn up over it <- don’t care about shadow and didn’t expect much going in . the missing part of maria’s story is ridiculous though (why is she just there??????)

i love herrrr i love her 70s energy and outfits and i will incorporate the roller skates. its soooo cute . the godzilla movie with the biolizard is pretty funny but that’ll totally piss off diehards. i do think they do good job of showing shadow + maria as friends and why he cares so much about her but that’s mainly just the scope of a film vs a video game

COWARDS THOUGH . SAYING “THEYRE CHILDREN” ON SCREEN TO INTERRUPT A SHOT-FOR-SHOT RECREATION OF HER DEATH??? THATS THE POINT. SHES A CHILD. ITS A TRAGEDYY

the shots directly from the shadow 2005 intro…. unbelievable . hilarious

akira bike slide ON VERTICAL BUILDING is cool i’m here for it

low budget flight and actual sonic-esque music…. i accept my crumbs

knuckles is lame. literally stolen joke from sonic boom w the team knuckles stuff. i wanted him to fight sonic over the ME so bad

the wade reveal is physically painful like i knew it happened in the show but he sucks sucks and right after the only satisfying scene w the humans (shadow fuckin up tom) . ME you deserve betterrrrr

torn on the overall message. i think it’s a more coherent film than the last two and the message isn’t terrible - it aligns with sonic’s overall freedom and choice vibes. but having shadow be a tag along to eggman’s schemes is a weird choice given he was pretty explicitly the one who wanted to . yknow. blow up the earth in the first place and just gave eggman the tools in SA2. this version takes a lot of agency out of his story bc gerald is here. which is weird since the whole explicit theme is choices!!

fucking gerald. can i kill someone. mr carrey i hate him

extremely dragon ball combat. which is fine but unexciting . WHERE the fuck did the emeralds go at the end they just??? gone??? they detransform and (incorrectly) sonic falls out of super and shadow dies but the emeralds flat out do not appear in the film again after they initially transform . what happened

FINALLY giving us a heart to heart AND live and learn for the fight ONLY TO CUT AWAY TO TWO MINUTES OF CARREY SHENANIGANS. illegal . egregious. im glad he’s dead

the shift from sonic having to inspire shadow to be better and move onto his past to . shadow pulling a ‘you’re just like me’ is lame. hello again scourge .

like it’s a logical change especially given the target audience and the kind of stories that are popular rn but it’s sooo less interesting than SA2’s thing

shadow being confronted by sonic bc he challenges his belief of being exceptional and makes him reconsider what it’s possible to be -> shadow being sonic’s narrative parallel bc they both had one (1) human they liked who they would do anything for

^^^ it’s bad. not unwatchable like sonic 1 but bad change. makes sense for this established universe tho so i get it

tails is great . colleen should be paid more

WAIT THINKING ABOUT LIVE & LEARN AGAIN. I CANT FUCKIN BELIEVE IT at least they had the music still playing when they cut back to the fight scene but that bullshit w the egged men. torture

yay shadow dead!!!!! no that final endcredit didn’t happen

the moon shot was cool. sadly now sonadow fans will claim the moon <- IT WAS SONKNUX TERRITORY FIRST

rouge would have made this film 1000000000% better

why so many metal sonic???????? hi amy

at least she’s cute i’ve seen so many bad edits since 2020 at least she’s cute. i’m intrigued w the cloak choice what’s going on here. just to hide the outfit so they can change it? reference? hmm

fascinating implication for whatever 4 is going to be. in my heart carreybotnik stays dead and we get a pseudo heroes where metal is pretending to be him. but alas i fear the family focus for eggman in this film is leading up to. him making metal sonic and treating him as his kid. which could be fucked up in fun ways but i’m so tired of carreyisms

they did say 2027 though which is an extra year than the last two got…. what are you budgeting guys

why oh why is shadow consistently the only character who gets any emotional arcs or storytelling it taunts me…. can’t even hate the guy bc he’s the only one with interesting stories . this story sucks and it’s still better than what knux got . orz

sayonara shadow the hedgehog