#anyway again apologies for the delay in response!!!!!

[winterinthetardis]

Hi! Where is your queue tag from?

Hi! My queue tag "I'm still just a queue. No touch." is a play off of a line from Doctor Who, s2e13 Doomsday, where the Doctor projects himself to Bad Wolf Bay to say goodbye to Rose:

This gif is from this amazing gifset, btw. It has the entire scene!!

[northsealight]

...and dry it off with care

summary: you're tired and not sure how to receive comfort. jason helps you relax :)

notes: a quick little imagine to tide MYSELF over while i try to grow the balls to post my insane jason related project soon (hint hint its medieval).. but this is my first post.. yahoo!

彡𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟𓆝 𓆟 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟 𓆝 彡

The past couple of weeks had little to look forward to. You, an unfortunate slave to your degree, had subscribed to the Sisyphean cycle of waking up at 6:00 AM, eating stale leftovers, and killing yourself at lectures until you dragged yourself home at 8:00 PM. The part of your miserable routine that stung the most was the fact that you barely had time to see Jason. 

This night was no different. Dead on your feet with a head of freshly showered hair, you painfully clambered into bed with your slumbering boyfriend. Unfortunately, the hopes of drying your scalp died long ago with the remainders of your arm strength. 

As you try to get settled quietly between the sheets, Jason, being a horrifically light sleeper, blinks awake to your dismay. He groans, and lifts one sleepy eye open. Secretly, you think to yourself how cat-like your boyfriend is. 

“Sorry,” you whisper, reaching over to brush the soft strands of hair from his eyes, “Go back to sleep.”

Jason only hums, and traces your hair with his outstretched fingers. He yawns. “Your hair’s still wet.”

“Astute observation. Now go back to sleep.”

“Mm. No,” Without warning, he arises from bed, padding off to the bathroom. You snort incredulously when he comes back with a blow dryer.

“Sit up,” He gently commands, sitting on your side of the bed now. “Gonna catch a cold if you sleep like that.” 

Your brain stalls, for a second. “What?”

Jason rolls his eyes and motions for you to scoot over, the remnants of sleep previously clinging to his face dissipating by the second. “I’m not letting you go to bed like that. Up.”

Oh. Your chest, in your half-sleep haze, instantly melts at his tenderness. 

You almost feel like a third party observer as your body folds into a sitting position, leaning flush against Jason’s chest without your control. You don’t miss the way how one his comically giant hands is always on you, touching your thigh, or resting on your waist.

Jason begins to gently dry your hair with the machine on the lowest setting. Maybe it was how emotionally draining your day was, or the sentimentality of the late evening, but your eyes became mysteriously damp at the way he handled you– took care of you. In the quiet darkness of your shared room, his movements felt languid, almost delayed. It felt wrong, distorted in some form. Each careless movement of his body against your own wasn’t deserved, like your body should dissipate at the touch of another. 

Wanting to push him away, your muscles tense, the vulnerability and sheer closeness overwhelming you. Jason in turn, still gently drying your damp scalp, notices the stiff movement. 

“Relax. What, you’ve got a crush on me or something?” he teases. You almost snap out of your stupor at Jason’s stupid jab, but you humor him anyway.

“In your dreams,” you sniff. “ I’ve got a boyfriend.”

Now it’s Jason’s turn to be teased. He plays along, and you can almost envision his small grin with his response. “Now who’s this mystery man? He’s lucky to have a pretty thing like you.” 

You sniff again. “He’s a big idiot. He sings off-key Cher to piss off my neighbors and keeps forgetting where he left his glasses. And he always insists on staying up for me when he should be resting up for tomorrow.”

“Hey.” Jason warns you, waving around the blow dryer. “Need I remind you who's wielding the potentially lethal electric device?”

You only snort and push at him. When it falls quiet, you break the silence with an unsure apology. “Sorry for waking you up.”

Jason only shushes you. “Don’t apologize for that. S’no bother.”

You close your eyes and lean back, further into him, to anchor yourself. Jason only presses a gentle kiss to your neck, and continues drying your hair.

You fall asleep that way. Morning comes to find you with a dry head of hair, an aching heart, and a gentle giant curled around your figure.

[norrisainz33]

field hockey || GR63

☆ summary: george russell’s girlfriend, y/n, is an olympic (field) hockey player and he’s obsessed with her

☆ pairing: george russell x olympic!reader

☆ fc & warning: lily owsley and slightly suggestive. you are responsible for the content you consume

☆ requested: yes!! apologies for the delay - thank you sm for taking the time to request 🤍

ﾟ. ✿ ୨❤︎୧⠀✿ . ﾟ

georgerussell63 has added to his private story

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alex_albon: when is y/n/n’s next match?

georgerussell63: 2 days! same day as race day🥹

alex_albon: 💔 man i wanted to watch

georgerussell63: you still can! briefly! i will have it on in my garage

ynuser: georgie 😫 i miss you more!!!! also why don’t YOU hurry up and finish racing so you can come to paris????

georgerussell63: i’m working on it baby girl

ynuser: well work harder 😉

georgerussell63: yes ma’am 😍

lilymhe: you can’t rush greatness

georgerussell63: i know you’re right but im going to try anyway

lewishamilton: don’t stress her out mate 😂😂

georgerussell63: oops

yourbff: that’s my girl actually ☝🏻

georgerussell63: not this again 🫠

georgerussell63 has made a post

liked by yourbff, mercedesamgf1, teamgb, lewishamilton, ynuser, alex_albon, lilymhe, and 874,234 others

georgerussell63: everyone stop what you’re doing - y/n is playing in the olympics today

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user1: george’s account is becoming a fan account for y/n

user2: george aren’t you racing today ??

mercedesamgf1: let’s go y/n! (george please pay attention in the drivers meeting)

georgerussell63: i am paying attention

alex_albon: y/n y/n y/n!!! let’s go!!!

lilymhe: lets gooooooo that’s my best friend!!

ynuser: i 🫶🏻 you both

user3: i thought this was y/n’s post but it’s just george reminding us how much he loves his girl

landonorris: 🇬🇧🇬🇧🇬🇧🇬🇧🇬🇧

ynuser: 🤍🇬🇧🤍🇬🇧🤍

user4: rooting for you both today!!!

user5: y/ngeorge for the win!!

mercedesamgf1: it’s race day here in SPA! Join George as he talks race day updates and aspirations and y/n’s olympic campaign.

view all 125 comments

user4: george not talking abt y/n challenge failed

user5: i love how much he loves her

georgerussell63: my girl’s about to win!! you all should tune in!!

user16: shouldn’t you be in the car rn george

user63: he’s live tweeting from the garage apparently

mercedesamgf1: george give me your phone now - toto

user7: loving that all this mercedes and george promo is bringing the love the field hockey world deserves

yourbff: yesss georgie educate the masses on the olympic schedule!!!!

georgerussell63: watch 🗣️ gb field hockey 🗣️ now 🗣️

user9: get you a man like george who cares more about talking about your success than his own

user10: i want them to be my mom and dad

ynuser has posted to their story

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user6: girl did you even step off the field yet ?

georgerussell63: my woman my woman my woman. i fcking love you

ynuser: i love you more my race winner

georgerussell63: simply not possible my olympic field hockey game winner

ynuser: i can’t wait to kiss your cute face

georgerussell63: sprinting away from media duties and to the jet to get to paris rn

ynuser: literally counting down the minutes

user56: a winning day for y/n/n and georgie

yourbff: a couple who wins together stays together

ynuser: 😭😭 winning on the same day hit like nothing else

yourbff: so proud of you both bb 🤍

mercedesamgf1: absolutely amazing result for you both. so so so happy for you y/n ❤️

ynuser: thank you admin ily

georgerussell63 posts to his private story

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landonorris: gross

georgerussell63: if you think this is gross you should’ve seen what we did after

landonorris: i hate you

alex_albon: now you can finally stop crying about missing her!

georgerussell63: yes! until the next time we are apart that is

llyzneimer: my baby girl, give her back to me

georgerussell63: never! she is mine!

lilyzneimer: didn’t anyone ever teach you to share?

georgerussell63: nope!

ynuser: hot

georgerussell63: oh yea 😏

lewishamilton: send her my best

georgerussell63: she sends it right back and she says she wants to see roscoe asap

lewishamilton: roscoe would love a play date 🤍

yourbff: stop distracting her from playing hockey

georgerussell63: i am NOT distracting her ☝🏻

ynuser has made a post

liked mercedesamgf1, georgerussell63, yourbff, alex_albon, teamgb, landonorris, oscarpiastri, and 152,324 others

ynuser: not the way i would have hoped our time at the olympics would have ended. we gave it everything we had and for that i am so incredibly proud. there’s always next time!! thank you to everyone for the outpouring of support and love - i hope you’ve been inspired to keep watching field hockey!! thank you to my friends, my coaches, my teammates, my family and most of all george for enabling this dream to come true. see you next time paris 🤍🇬🇧

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user23: 4th is still impressive you gorgeous hockey queen

user44: thanks for introducing us to the incredible game of field hockey y/n

user54: no like fr i had no idea how fun the sport was!!! everyone say thank you y/n!

user64: thank you y/n

user74: thanks y/n/n

ynuser: you are so welcome 🫶🏻

georgerussell63: you’re an olympian y/n/n and no one can take that away from you, medal or not. you have inspired me and so many others. i love you y/n ❤️

ynuser: i love you mr russell 🥹

user45: we are proud of you mother

landonorris: great effort y/n! proud that you’re out there representing team 🇬🇧

ynuser: thank you lan

user33: still my favorite olympian

roscoelovescoco: prouds of yous my friends 😘

ynuser: i needed this thank you 😭

user35: can’t wait for the next olympics for you to eat it up and win gold

ynuser has added to their story

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user46: hoping you both enjoy your break!!

user87: are you guys just gonna get married yet or what

yourbff: enjoy italy!! love you both 🤍

ynuser: 🤍🤍pasta🤍🤍

mercedesamgf1: much needed rest and recovery time 🫶🏻

teamgb: until next time 🏑🇬🇧

georgerussell63: blue is your color

ynuser: so is gold 😏

georgerussell63: oh i know 💍

user78: that dress is to die for tf

roscoelovescoco: stops by and sees me pls

ynuser: will do ❤️

lilyzneimer: enjoy pretty girl

ynuser: can’t wait to see you and osc 🤍

ﾟ. ✿ ୨❤︎୧⠀✿ . ﾟ

a/n: thanks for reading!! likes and reblogs appreciated!! this concludes my olympic reader series. appreciate all of you reading 🥹

ﾟ. ✿ ୨❤︎୧⠀✿ . ﾟ

disclaimer: pictures are not mine and everything i write is fiction

© norrisainz33 || please do not rewrite, translate, or copy any of my works posted here on to any other platform

[tinytalkingtina]

Not Your "Cute Little Button"

Written for the @strangerthingswritersguild kinktober day 10 prompt "size"

Rating: E (18+ only please) | 1.2k words | Ao3 link Now with a followup fic: Not A "Big Deal"

Tags: Steve/Eddie, Eddie has a micropenis, Steve loses his mind over said micropenis, mutual insecurities, blow jobs, fluff/smut/comfort, modern AU, bisexual Eddie and Steve, no feminization

All under the cut because we jump right in haha!

"Eddie," Steve moaned out somewhere above him. "Eddie wait, hold on." He pulled off with a pop. Steve looked the picture of debauchery, laid out naked on the bed.

"You can go deeper," he offered. "Never had much of a gag reflex, trust me I’m really enjoying this." And oh was Eddie ever. Steve was thick and heavy on his tongue and so deliciously responsive.

Steve laughed.

"I can tell man, but I'm on the edge of exploding over here and you haven't even taken your pants off." Shit, Eddie had hoped to delay the inevitable for just one more date, to distract Steve with pleasure. But of course the guy would want to be a selfless gentleman about it.

"Oh, it's fine, these would be a bitch to take off anyway." he said, grasping at straws.

"Hey." Steve cupped his hand around Eddie's face. It took all of his willpower not to melt into a puddle of goo. "I just wanna make you feel good too."

"I. Thank you, but...it's not like I'm exactly packing down there, not much to work with." Eddie blushed as he admitted it. He couldn't look Steve in the eyes. "I'm sure you could feel it in the club."

Tipsy and belting out lyrics to some Madonna song, he'd forgotten himself for a minute and ground into Steve's gorgeous ass.

A thumb gently brushed his cheek. "I did, and it's okay, I wanna see all of you."

"Just. Don't laugh."

He'd had enough of taking someone home just for them to mock him when he took his clothes off. Of girls only using him for his hands and tongue, because why would they bother with something that wouldn't fill them up? Of guys not even asking what he wanted before turning him over and sticking fingers in his ass. At least now he had the self respect to pack it up and call it a night if someone cooed over his "cute little clitty" but.

He really liked Steve.

Their four dates had been great, with conversation flowing easily from the start. Something had just clicked for him with Steve in a way that no one had ever before. If Eddie wasn't careful, his heart was going to end up crushed to pieces beneath the weight of those soft eager eyes.

An appreciative once over across his tattoos as he stripped his shirt off gave him a little confidence, but he'd gone mostly soft from their conversation. It was with shaking hands that he undid his belt and pushed both his jeans and boxers off in one fell swoop to get this over with.

Steve's mouth fell open in a perfect "o" as he stared.

Eddie cringed, an apology halfway formed on his tongue when: 

"Can I blow you?" Steve sounded desperate.

He peeked over to find Steve's eyes were filled with heat.

"You, what?" Eddie asked, baffled. This wasn't how the scene usually played out.

"Please, I need to get my mouth on you right now."

Stunned, Eddie nodded and lowered himself down onto the mattress. Immediately, Steve pounced. He set to work sucking a hickey right on his thigh, and gave the tip of his dick little kitten licks. It didn't take long for Eddie to get hard again. Once he did, Steve let out a moan as he stared at all three and a quarter inches.

A quiet "Fuck!" was all the warning he got before Steve swallowed him whole. For a second, Eddie saw stars as he arched off the mattress. Steve's mouth was so warm and wet, and it had been so long since anyone had done this for him.

His hands instinctively reached for Steve's hair, and he was rewarded for his efforts by a pleased hum.

"St-Steve, sweetheart you feel so good." Eddie's mouth ran away from him, spitting out praises that Steve drank up. Nestled between his thighs with his eyes closed, he looked absolutely blissful.

After a while, he pulled off, a line of spit still connecting him to the tip of Eddie's dick. "Shit, can you—can you fuck my mouth? Never been able to take anyone else completely before, but you're so perfect Eddie please, use me. I want it so bad." Steve's pupils were so blown out his eyes were nearly black.

Trembling, Eddie nodded again. "Ye-yes, fuck, yeah we can do that?"

He slowly started pumping in and out of Steve's heavenly mouth, both of them letting out groans. Steadily, he built up steam and watched as the lips wrapped around his dick turned cherry red. It didn't take much for him to fall over the edge, a stuttered warning barely coming out before he did. Steve swallowed each and every drop, his tongue licking Eddie clean as he writhed beneath him.

Finally he stopped and sat back, breathing heavily. As Eddie tried to move his jellied limbs to reciprocate, Steve brought their lips together in a bruising kiss. 

"So hot baby, you should see how you look right now. Stay there, just like that." he babbled as he pumped his dick furiously. The tip was so dark it was nearly purple. "Can't wait to ride you next time, won't need any prep, can just sit all the way down and go as hard as I want immediately."

Eddie stared up, overwhelmed. Steve wanted a next time, wanted to bottom. Wanted him. 

"You're perfect." he whispered. That was all it took to get Steve to cum all over Eddie's chest. He collapsed with a gasp. Ignoring the sticky mess between them, he bundled Eddie up in his arms and immediately buried his face in his by-now very frizzed out curls.

"Thank you." Steve said. The words were muffled but the naked affection in his voice made Eddie's heart leap.

He couldn't help but giggle. “‘Thank you’ he says. Guy sucks my soul out through my dick and thanks me for the privilege?"

Steve hugged him tighter. "Yes, and I'll do it again. You know how many people try and get into my pants after thirty minutes of small talk? You actually wanted to get to know me first."

Eddie wriggled around to face Steve, taking his face in both his hands. 

"Fuck those people," he said solemnly. It was Steve's turn to giggle. 

"Sweetheart, don't get me wrong, I fully intend on writing like, an entire album's worth of ballads about your ass. But I really wanna hear you bitch about the new Star Wars sequels, and make you only slightly burnt toast in the mornings, and find out what your favorite color is because I'm only just realizing I don't know and we need to fix that."

Steve smiled softly as he tucked a stray curl behind Eddie's ear. "It's navy blue. Come on, let's go shower so you can stare at my ass some more. Need you to start writing those songs, clearly my self-esteem is in the toilet.”

Eddie felt the deep-seated ball of shame inside him slowly start to loosen. He was wanted, and if he was given permission to, he'd spend the rest of his life making sure the man tugging him towards the bathroom felt wanted too.

Author's notes: -Thanks to the STWG for being horny this morning and inspiring me to write today, and to @little-annie for giving it a quick once-over!

-Ended up taking this out in favor of showing that Eddie was interested in getting to know Steve before jumping straight to sex, but in this universe, Steve's gag reflex is not very good, and his past partners haven't been kind about it. So Eddie's dick is literally a g-dsend for him and his oral fixation. They will spend many evenings in the future with Steve in complete bliss cockwarming his boyfriend.

-Many thanks to steddiecameraroll-graphics for the divider!

[yougottalovebuckybarnes]

Hi, I’m so sorry that you have been having a hard time and that you can’t graduate when you wanted to I know that must be hard but you’re taking the time to look after yourself and that’s the most import thing!!!!

If and when you’re up to it I’d love to see a part 3 of forgive me, also maybe with a bit of Sam included? I’m a strong believer that Sam would 100% be on Bucky and Y/n side

Forgive Me, Pt. 3 (Bucky x Reader)

A/N: This request for a third part was from AGES ago, so I apologize for the long delay lol. On the plus side, I’ve finally graduated from college so that is no longer a worry! :) Anyway, this series will definitely be getting a Part 4. I couldn’t stop writing and coming up with more ideas lol. I hope you all enjoy!

==========

“Hate” had always been such a harsh word to me. Of all the feelings that existed, that was the one that I never could seem to grasp fully. Perhaps my heart was too soft or my nature too forgiving, but I had yet to find a person that I truly hated.

I could not even find it in me to hate Steve Rogers, despite all that had happened. Forgiveness was still a work in progress, but perhaps one day I would forgive him completely.

It had been three months since Bucky had found me in our bathroom with an open medication bottle in my hand, and it had been equally as long since he had spoken to the rest of the team. While I found it impossible to hate any of them, Bucky could not stand to even look at them. We had moved out of the compound within twenty four hours of his confrontation with Steve and hadn’t been back since.

Our little apartment in the city was comfortable, but it was not home. I knew that Bucky felt the same, but he refused to admit it out loud. Several attempts to urge him to reach out to Steve had not gone well, and my heart ached as I witnessed his anger consume him. Bucky had reassured me that I was all he needed now, but I knew deep down that he needed his friends, especially Steve. This anger would destroy him if not confronted properly.

And that was why I reached out first.

I found myself in a quiet little cafe in the city on a early Tuesday morning, sipping on an iced late as I watched people make their way down the street to work. The chair across from me scrapped on the ground, and I looked up to find Steve Rogers taking a seat. His face was solemn, almost shameful as his eyes made contact with mine. It was a version of him that I was unfamiliar with. The weeks of sneering and secret glares had melted away into shame and regret.

Part of me thought I should be content, seeing him humbled in this way. But I could not find it in me to rejoice in this. Steve Rogers was doing just as bad as Bucky was, losing his best friend the way that he had. There had to be a way to remedy this.

“Good morning, Steve.” I spoke softly, watching him evenly.

“Good morning.” Steve nodded in response, looking a little uneasy. “Look, Y/N-“

“You know why I asked to meet with you.” I prompted, pushing past the need for small talk to get into what really mattered. I was also quite honestly not ready to accept his apology either, if that was what he trying to do.

“Yeah.” He sighed, looking away briefly. “I don’t know what else I can do. Bucky won’t respond to any of my messages and I wouldn’t dare show up uninvited to your apartment.”

“That would not have gone well.” I agreed, sipping again on my beverage. “But we need to fix this, Steve. I’ve never seen him like this before. He needs you.”

“No, he needs you.” Steve replied, his voice remaining even. “And I realize that now. I didn’t know how much he cared for you until that night. Hell, I’m surprised he didn’t tell me that you two got married.”

“That really surprised you?” I asked with a slight scoff. “After how you all treated me?”

“I’m not looking for a fight.” He held up his hands slightly. “I’m just wanting to fix things.”

It was silent for a moment, and I let out a small sigh as I nodded in agreement. We were both in agreement for at least this one thing. While I did care for Steve and the others like family before this mess, all I cared about now was making sure Bucky was cared for and supported. In order to do so, we had to work together.

“Is Sam in town?”

“He is.” Steve nodded. “I’m thinking he might be able to help best since he was nutural in this whole thing. Just talk things over with him. If it doesn’t work, we can figure something else out.”

“I agree.” I glanced at my phone, seeing a text from Bucky asking where I was. I began to rise from my place at the small table. “I have to go now. Let me know when Sam can come over to see him.”

“Wait.” Steve’s voice caused me to stop and I looked over at him. “I…I never gave you a chance to explain your side of things, and for that, I’m sorry. I should not have treated you the way that I did.”

I looked at him evenly, my heart aching in my chest at the memories of the day prior to my attempt and Bucky’s hospitalization. After a few moments of silence, I gave him a sad smile. “If you want to know what happened, look at the Tony’s camera feeds from that day. The journalist stopped me at the front entrance to the building so you should have clear audio. It’ll tell you all you need to know.”

And without another word, I grabbed my purse and made my way back towards my apartment.

===========

Bucky’s POV

It had been odd waking up without Y/N by my side. That had been all but established as part of our routine, early mornings spent together in bed. But for some reason that had been broken on a random Tuesday, and part of me wanted to investigate why.

But her return only an hour later had washed all my worries away and our regular life routines resumed as normal for the next week. Part way through the week, Y/N had left the apartment to run a few errands so I was left on my own on the couch watching reruns of ‘The Office’. But a sharp knock on my door interrupted my plans of relaxation.

I approached the door, assuming that Y/N had forgotten her key inside after I had locked it behind her. But the familiar face of Sam Wilson surprised me as I found him on the other side. “Sam?”

“How’ve you been, man? “ Sam smiled.

“How do you know where I live?” I returned a smile hesitantly, wondering if the others had sent him as one last resort to connect.

“I saw Y/N on the street.” He replied casually, and my shoulders relaxed slightly. “She thought it would be a good idea for me to visit!”

“Of course. Come on in.” I stepped aside, letting him into our apartment and shutting the door gently. “I haven’t heard from you in months. Where have you been?”

“Long term mission abroad.” Sam sighed, sitting down on the couch. “It was quite an interesting experience. But not as interesting as finding out you moved out of the compound. What happened?”

I froze slightly at his words. “Did Steve send you?”

“Can’t I just be concerned about my friend?” Sam replied, scoffing slightly.

“I’m not saying you can’t.” I snorted, sitting down on the opposite end of the couch. “But this feels like an interrogation. I have had enough of those to last a life time.”

“I did speak to Steve, but he only gave me a few details. But I also don’t want to hear just one side. I want to hear from you.” Sam replied, glancing at me. “You two are incredibly close and now you live far apart from each other. What happened?”

All that had happened began to play again through my mind. The article published, the attitude shifts from the others, the gunshot to my shoulder, finding Y/N with the medicine bottle in hand. It was almost too hard to handle. But I willed myself to speak, telling my friend all that had happened.

“How can I forgive him for this?” I asked, my voice cracking slightly. “How can I forgive all of them for this? They did not give her a chance to explain herself, and made her feel like she was worthless. I could’ve lost her forever.”

“How does Y/N feel about this?” Sam prompted gently.

“She wants me to reach out to Steve.” I sighed, sinking back into the couch. “I don’t know how she can forgive him so easily, after all that has happened.”

“Y/N talked to me too, Bucky.” My eyes flickered over to Sam, surprised by his words. “She is worried about you, deeply. “

“I’m doing just fine.” I scoffed, but slightly concerned by his words. How had I not known she was worried about me?

“So you say.” Sam replied, almost skeptically. “Don’t you miss everyone? Steve at least?”

“Of course I have!” I bristle slightly, my metal fist clenching slightly. “But how do I move on from this?”

“I know you can’t immediately forgive the others for this, and that is understandable.” Sam spoke firmly. “But you can’t stay this angry forever. It will destroy you.”

“I can be as angry as I damn well please!” I snapped, glaring at him. “They almost caused her to end her life!”

“Bucky-“

“No!” I rose from the couch, a wave of rage flowing over me. “You don’t get it, and why would you? It wasn’t your wife!”

“No, but she is my friend!” Sam did not move, keeping his gaze steady with mine. “And she is scared that she is losing you, Bucky!”

“I need you to leave.” I shake my head, walking to the door and pulling it open. “Now.”

Sam clenched his jaw slightly but did not respond as he rose from the couch before walking to the door. Just as he was about to step through into the hall, Y/N appeared with a handful of grocery bags in hand. Her smile of greeting faded as she sensed the tension in the room. “What’s-“

“Please leave, Sam.” I repeated firmly, watching him leave before shutting the door behind him. “Why did you invite him here?”

“Maybe because he’s one of your friends and you could use a visit from one?” Y/N walked into the kitchen, placing the groceries on the counter before turning to me. “Why did you throw him out of our apartment?”

“Because everyone is insisting that I must forgive Steve!” I snapped, my jaw clenched. “I can’t even fathom how you can stand the thought of him!”

“Bucky, I still haven’t forgive him yet! It’s too hard!” I shake my head as I watched him through pained eyes. “But I’m not as angry anymore. You can’t let this anger consume you!”

“I heard the exact same thing from Sam.” I let out a bitter laugh. “I can be as angry as I want!”

“Bucky…”

“Did you coordinate this with Sam? Steve too?” I scoffed, not even hiding my anger anymore. “Why are you working with the people who want you dead?”

Y/N’s face went blank for a moment before her eyes filled with hurt. Deep hurt. I had never regret speaking as I quickly as I did in that moment.

“Alright.” Her voice was quiet, trembling slightly as she picked up her purse from the counter. “Dinner’s on the counter. I’m going to go stay somewhere else for the night.”

“Y/N…” My voice cracked as I reached out to grab her hand, but she slipped away from my touch and out the door, slamming it hard behind her.

I walked over to the couch, sitting back down quietly before the first tears began to fall. I could not remember when they stopped, if ever. Perhaps the anger had already destroyed me. And perhaps I had already lost the love of my life because of it.

=====

TAGLIST (from the last part! If you wanted to be added or removed, just let me know lol)

@missvelvetsstuff

@erinallene

@ladyalexandranna

@angelwatson

@buckyalpine

@ada728

@bwhitewolfbarnes

@kjah97

@ineverybreathofyou

@sarbear94

[howlsofbloodhounds]

What do you think happened during/after the fight Delta had with his Gaster(in the Final Ep. 1). What are your headcanons for it?

Apologies for the delay in response, I needed to both gain energy/motivation to reply and also to go rewatch Ultra/Vitaltale to refresh my memories.

And also the way the videos were sorted on creator’s YT channel was confusing my brain for some reason, so I just scrolled through their entire channel in order to find every piece on the AUs & put it into separate chronological order in a playlist of my own. Then I tried to rewatch all of it.

Which was hard, because I kept getting distracted and my attention kept drifting away. I will probably try to rewatch again soon, when I am capable of actually retaining the information in my mind accurately.

(Random side note because the thought just occurred to me; I find it very interesting how both Doggo and Papyrus demonstrate bravery when facing up against the unknown threat in Vitaltale Episode 1.4.

Whereas Sans, who will eventually absorb the SOUL of Bravery to become the Delta we know, is all for evacuating. Love how this Sans is not naturally brave in the typical way, even should he eventually come around to gaining the bravery soul in Vitaltale as he did in Ultra.)

Anyway. On to the actual question. My mind is a little wonky today so if I get anything wrong or confused about the question feel free to correct me.

So it’s to my understanding that Echo (Ultratale’s Gaster) calls Sans/Delta to the Ruins for a “chat” after Delta’s fight with Cross. Echo has information for Delta—a way to “fix” their mistakes, but he will not tell Delta unless he fights for it.

Delta calls the information “old,” and says he’s going to beat Echo into the ground anyhow. Gives me the impression that he’s possibly more fixated on his current task—protecting AUs—then trying to go back and fix the past.

Because Ultratale was ultimately rebooted into Vitaltale we obviously don’t know for sure how this battle ends and likely never will, but I personally HC that it has multiple endings.

1. Delta loses, Echo doesn’t give him the information. The two go on their separate ways and live their own lives.

2. Delta wins. Echo attempts to tell the information, but Delta stops him. Says he doesn’t want to know and just wants to move on with life. That it’s what Papyrus, Frisk, and the others would want them to do.

3. Delta wins, Echo tells him the information of how to go back and fix it all. Delta refuses.

4. Delta wins, gets the information, and he accepts. Perhaps this information leads into the formation of a variant AU—a reboot, that creates Vitaltale. Chara doesn’t absorb Frisk’s soul and therefore can’t prevent them from Resetting.

(Side note: perhaps, for a character defining moment, in every ending where Delta refuses to hear or accept this information, Echo always furiously protests against this. Maybe Echo is the voice encouraging Delta to go back, to fix it all and “fight for us,” whereas Beta is the voice encouraging Delta to keep moving forward.

Echo cannot let go of the past because he was shattered and wasn’t ready to leave it, but he is was always aware.

Beta never got to truly live either because they were murdered and kept in a jar, but they were not as aware of the world outside the jar and thus is able to move on easier. Because Beta’s life was over before they truly got to live it, whereas Echo/Gaster’s was cut off at its peak.

Delta is in the middle of this. Experienced with life, but still young. His life is just starting—he’s halfway out of that cage—whereas Beta realizes they are free and is just trying to convince Delta to join them, and Echo..the cage is open, he can step out now.

But he spends his time trying to coax Delta and Beta back inside instead, and to help him bring everyone else back in the cage where it’s safe and familiar.)

Delta, now just Sans and perhaps without any memory of the events of Ultratale, manages to convince Frisk to Reset near the end of a Genocide route and be better. However, the Determined Omega!Chara must still Erase this world—the culmination ending exactly as Ultratale did.

Omega!Chara absorbs Frisk’s Soul, prevents them from Resetting and goes on a Genocide to Erase this world once and for all. Sans attempts to prevent it, even by giving characters such as Doggo hints and tips to help them in combat against the unknown threat.

None of it matters. Sans’ attempts do nothing, it ends in Genocide and Sans absorbs the Bravery soul—going on to protect the rest of the Multiverse.

He always fights Cross, he always fights Echo. He’s always given the choice—go back and try again and again, or accept what happened. Be brave, and move on. Do what Doggo and Papyrus did—brave in the face of impossible odds.

Anyway I guess my little HC is basically that Ultratale and Vitaltale are connected in-universe. Vitaltale is the story of how we got to Ultratale, and Delta must choose between the mortifying ordeal of the unknown and living with his mistakes & losses, or the comfort of a past that’ll end horribly in Ultratale; but at least he never lost anyone yet and no mistakes were ever made.

If he chooses to move on, he goes to the Omega Timeline where he meets Color, Epic, Core Frisk, Killer. Grows closer with Beta, Cross, XChara. Adopts a service/therapy dog he names Zorox (which is someone else’s HC, I don’t know if it’s okay or not with being tagged). Lives life, saving and protecting people.

Sans manages to escape the loop of Undertale only to find himself in another due to the rebooting nature of Ultra and Vitaltale. Only this time he has the ability to choose to escape it, he just has to be brave enough to attempt it—even though it seems impossible.

(Also how, despite the way his experiences could understandably lead him to Nihilism, helplessness and the belief that nothing he ever does or says will ever matter or change anything, he learns to be brave enough to keep trying anyway.)

Anyway. Sorry for the long rant that got horribly off topic at points. I had a lot more ideas about this by the time I was done than when I first read the question. Have Delta & Echo being silly and zesty respectively to make up for it:

[warning-heckboop]

Hi again! This is the same anon who sent the ask about the Paint In Red AU relating to Dev using a wish. I'm so flattered you thought it was a good idea! I've loved all the AU stuff you've made so far so that's like a great compliment in my book. Anyway, I actually had some more takes if you're interested! I imagine that at some point after the wish Dev would manage to steal one of the anti-fairys wands, most likely Irep's, since we've seen humans can use a wand to grant wishes themselves. Because why ask Irep to grant his wishes when he can do it himself, especially since Irep is one of the people who turned their back on him. Cue Dev using the wand to take revenge on those he believes have slighted him or are a risk to remaining in power. Anyway sorry for all the anon asks! I'm just very nervous about doing it not anonymously, even tho I've sent a few anon asks by now and you've answered them lol

First off, apologies for the delayed response. Yesterday was my last big plan after over a month of lots of big plans and doctors appointments and stuff. I am exhausted, buuuuut hoping to get back into the swing of things with art and whatnot again now that it's over!

As a start, here's a first pass sketch at a concept I've had in mind for a while for the Paint in Red au. Dev does get his hands on an anti-fairy wand--a very particular anti-fairy wand in fact. Once Dev's wish to not care anymore is granted, he loses any and all attachments and hesitations that were previously preventing him from... getting rid of the few people who hurt him more than anyone: his father, of course, but now also Irep as well, who shunned Dev for his father at the drop of a hat and took what little attention Dale was finally giving Dev away.

Dev combines the, ahem, trophies from them with what remains of Peri's wand after his death to create his own unique wand! It's half fairy, half anti-fairy, so even in the event of the Big Wand being taken back by the fairies, he'll still have magic to support himself! He's really quite clever, once he no longer cares about all those silly feelings :)

(Also never apologize about using anon! I tend to prefer anon sometimes myself! That's what its there for! Do whatever you're most comfortable with!)

[stevesbestgirl]

Phases of the Moon - Part 6

Steven Grant x f!Reader, eventual Marc Spector x f!Reader

5684 words

Warnings: chances of swears, FLUFF, lots of silly flirting, my shitty interpretation of French poetry, AND a lot of shitty jokes, so you’re in luck, allusions to a toxic past relationship but nothing specific, like 1.2 seconds of protective Steven

A/N: This will likely be something of a midseason finale, as I still need to finish fleshing out the arc of the second half because I start therapy next week and anticipate being kind of a mess Marc complicates things. I respectfully request that y’all not send asks about when the next update will be (although I’m eternally grateful for your enthusiasm ❤)

As always, keep in mind that I am not a system and am not an expert. All of my information about their relationship comes from the Moon Knight show and I use that as my reference point.

*Bold type is spoken by Marc when Steven is fronting.*

Masterlist

You walked back to the bus stop both a bit quieter than you’d been the rest of the day. Steven wished he’d cleaned up his flat a bit; he really hadn’t planned to invite you back. It certainly wasn’t the temptation he needed. But he wanted to give you your gifts- he wanted to give you anything you wanted. If he was being honest, he didn’t want you to go yet either. He hadn’t had enough of the way you held his arm, your fingers trailing down until they slipped in between his. 

When you boarded the bus, Steven sat down beside you and you slid just a bit closer. He wasn’t sure if you’d done it consciously or not, but the fact that you wanted to be closer to him made his pulse quicken. The quick burst of confidence urged him to wrap his arm around your shoulders.

As he did, he couldn’t help but ask, “Is that alright?” He just couldn’t seem to picture himself not being nervous around you.

You smiled, “It’s nice.” 

“Are you alright?” Your responses had been a bit short since leaving the restaurant.

You nodded, “Might be a little tired. I think the cake did me in.” You chuckled softly and then Steven noted the slight delay in your speech now. He supposed he had sort of dragged you all over the place today.

He couldn’t help but glance at your shoes, “Are your feet alright? We did a bit of walking today, didn’t we?”

You leaned into him, “I’m alright, Steven.”

“You could invite her to stay,” Marc suggested.

“I bloody well can not!” 

“Yes, you can. I bet she’d say yes.” 

“Tomorrow is your day to front- or have you forgotten?”

“If you invite her, you can have it.”

Steven glanced at you, tucked under his arm, looking content, before meeting Marc’s stare in the bus window, “Do not do this to me, Marc. I mean it.” He didn’t want Marc’s day to front and he certainly hadn’t thought Marc would call his bluff.

“Stop being so dramatic-”

“Alright, for the sake of honesty, my feet do hurt a little, but not more than your average day out and it was definitely worth it, so no feeling bad, alright?”

“Hm?” It took Steven a moment to catch up.

“Are you alright, Steven?”

You smiled weakly, “I think I might be a bit tired myself.”

“Guess we better get you home then. Which stop is it again?”

He glanced up at the display at the head of the bus, reading off the next stop before cursing softly, “The last one.” He hastily grabbed the rope to request a stop and you followed him to the front of the bus as it squeaked to a halt. You said a quick thank you to the bus driver, climbing down after Steven onto the curb.

“Well, we’ve only overshot by about a block, but I’m so-”

You leaned into him, “It’s alright, no big deal. I wanted more time with you anyway, right?” You stepped back, “So which way is it then?”

Steven’s apology fizzled, a faint smile taking its place on his lips, “That way.”

“Must be something interesting in that head of yours,” you prompted. Maybe a little more teasing was alright.

He chuckled, “You’ve no idea, love.”

“Maybe someday you can share with me.” He knew you were teasing him again; it was getting easier for him to tell. But he wanted to tell you.

Marc’s stony face appeared in the glass of a passing storefront, “Do not tell her.”

“Now who’s being dramatic?”

“Steven, I’m not joking. You will scare her away.” If Steven didn’t know better, he’d say Marc sounded a little afraid.

“Alright, alright, don’t have a fit- I wasn’t going to.” 

“Which number are you? We haven’t passed it, have we?”

“Actually, it was back there,” Steven gestured over his shoulder.

“Wait, really?”

“No, I’m only joking,” he laughed. “It’s this one here.” He gestured to a large, rather old-looking building, indistinguishable from the others surrounding it. Inside was a bit dingy, but it wasn’t far off from the apartment Dalton lived in. It was sort of industrial, with exposed supports and lots of tarnished brassy colors that looked like they could use some dusting and a bit of oil.

Steven appeared to be getting more and more nervous as you rode the lift, which was sketchy in its own rite. While it rattled and whirred, he glanced at you, “Sorry it’s not much to look at.”

“Steven, you don’t need to apologize for your apartment building.” You squeezed his hand.

“Well, I’m apologizing for my apartment too, I suppose, aren’t I? I’d have tidied up, but I wasn’t expecting to have you visit so soon-”

“It’s not too late for me to go home,” you suggested. “I don’t know if I want to see your place if it isn’t clean.”

He froze, a long second preceding a nervous smile, “You’re teasing me again.”

You grinned, “You’re catching on.” You stood on tiptoe and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek, “Your apartment isn’t going to scare me away, so stop worrying.”

Steven cursed the way your lips on his cheek made him want to kiss you again; he was getting a bit greedy about that. And despite your insistence that he not worry, he almost dropped his keys before he could unlock the door, fumbling at getting the key in the lock. 

Throwing the door open, he gestured for you to go ahead of him, still nervous to see your reaction. You stepped inside, eyes wide with curiosity. It appeared to be all one room, although a sprawling one. You caught a glimpse of a bed on the far end of the room, obscured by some of the many bookshelves. The kitchen was to your right, the counters and kitchen table one of the clear spaces. The door to the bathroom stood ajar to your left. Directly ahead was a large fish tank, with two goldfish drifting around inside.

The floors were wood, the furniture appeared to be very worn or maybe second hand, but cozy. The defining feature was the books stacked up on about eighty-five percent of the room’s surfaces. The air was thick with the scent of old books and Steven, which was a dangerous cocktail for someone who’d had two glasses of wine with dinner. 

“As I said, it’s a bit of a mess,” Steven explained as he closed the door. “I’ve been working on getting organized and cleaning up a bit, but it’s-”

“It’s lovely, Steven.” You smiled at him and moved over to a stack of books on an end table, perusing the titles on the spines. “I wasn’t sure what to expect from the rest of the building, but this is quite nice. The wood floors, the big windows, the open floor plan- it’s all kind of elegant, I think. And I love all of the books, although I feel a bit bad for the ones not on shelves- I’d hate to knock them down.”

“That’s what’s been taking so long is getting cleaned up, actually,” he moved up behind you, plucking a book from a pile. “I’ve got to sort through them all and decide which ones to keep and which to donate, which takes me a while, to be honest because I’m quite attached to them. But as it is, I can’t really get the ones on the bottom of the piles, so it’s-”

“An ineffective system,” you finished for him, making him blush. “You know, I can be pretty organized. I wouldn’t mind helping you get cleaned up, if you ever need an extra hand.” 

He gave a weak chuckle, “Can’t have you cleaning up my mess for me, can I?”

“Why’s that?” You moved in close, gazing up at him, “I want to treat you the way you deserve too, remember? I really don’t mind.”

Steven was having a hard time thinking. You were in his apartment and you were so close to him; he hadn’t imagined he would end up in this situation today, or maybe ever. So when you batted your eyelashes at him, he crumpled, “Right- sure, that would be nice.” 

You smiled, glancing back at the stack of books, “So, are all of these books about Egypt?”

“Most of them,” he smiled sheepishly. “There’s some others sprinkled in; Greek and Norse mythology mostly.” You flitted off to examine some of the shelves and Steven took a steadying breath.

“I’m more of a fiction reader myself, but mythology was one of my favorites topics in school. So I guess it’s no wonder I liked your tour so much.”

“What are you interested in then?” He suddenly felt like you knew so much about him and he hadn’t asked you nearly enough about yourself.

“Nerd stuff, mostly. Fantasy, sci-fi, adventure- that kind of thing. Some romance too, but don’t tell anyone.” At that, you glanced over your shoulder to smile at him, like you were confiding a secret. 

“Your secret is safe with me.” And at the mention of romance, he remembered why he’d brought you back here in the first place. “Speaking of-” he headed for the kitchen, taking an arrangement of lovely, red flowers and a box of chocolates from the counter before he shuffled up to you, looking a bit sheepish, “This might’ve been more effective if I hadn’t been such a coward about it.”

“Steven, you didn’t have to get me anything. And honestly, I think it was pretty effective this way. I mean, I’m here, aren’t I?”

“Well, yes, but that wasn’t part of the plan, you know,” he admitted.

You cupped his chin, “Don’t put so much pressure on yourself. You’re doing wonderfully. This is, with no contest, the best date I’ve ever been on.” Steven flushed under your touch, but you weren’t finished, “In fact, I would really like to kiss you again, if that’s alright.”

He nodded, though the way his eyes lit up was all the confirmation you needed. You tugged his chin down to meet his lips with yours, the flower paper crinkling between you. You kept it light, breaking away after a few seconds to murmur, “Are you remembering to breathe?”

He chuckled, “Yes, so far. But I think you only need to worry if I start turning blue.”

Your lips quirked up in a slight smile, “What should I do then?" Mouth-to-mouth resuscitation?” He grinned, battling the laugh before his forehead touched yours as he pulled his head down, like he was trying to hide it. Your smile grew, “Is that what does it for you? Cheesy jokes?”

Steven grinned guiltily, “Sorry if that’s a dealbreaker.” He set the gifts on the table, clasping his hands behind his back, “Have I ruined the mood then?”

“I think your laugh is very cute, actually.”

His gaze flicked to your lips, “That’s good news then because I’m afraid I’ve got some bad news, love.”

You picked up on his tone, playing along, “What is it?”

“I think I’ve forgotten how to breathe.”

You were already tipping your chin up, your lips seeking his while your arms snaked around his neck. Steven wrapped his arms around your waist, slowly and deliberately, the heat of your skin warming his palms. His hands wanted to stray, but he wasn’t about to grope you on your first date- or second date- whatever it was. 

But then his grip tightened just a little bit, making a soft moan slip out from between your lips. Steven’s eyes snapped open, his lips parting from yours in a hurry, “Are you alright? Have I hurt you?”

Heat flooded your already warm face, “No- definitely not.” You broke eye contact, “I liked it.” It had been a while since you’d been touched like that; longer still since it was by someone you wanted to touch you.

“Oh,” Steven breathed a sigh of relief. Then he registered your body language, “Oh. Oh, I get it.” Now it was his turn to blush; he hadn’t imagined he’d have that kind of an effect on you. “I’ll be sure to make a note of that.” 

You offered a shy half-smile. You knew you shouldn’t be embarrassed- certainly not with Steven, but you’d forgotten how vulnerable it could be to get this close to someone. You were at least sure that Steven didn���t realize the power he had over you, not yet anyway. 

“I suppose I should probably get home; don’t want to keep you too late,” you offered. You had monopolized quite a bit of Steven’s day now that you thought about it; this date was only supposed to be lunch. 

So you were a little surprised when he managed to look disappointed, glancing out the windows at the dark sky, “You aren’t keeping me- well, a bit- but in a good way, you know. You can keep me as long as you like.” 

You raised an eyebrow, “Yeah?”

He chuckled, looking surprisingly unflustered, “Not what I meant to say, but I do stand by that.” 

You moved just a bit closer, “As long as I like?” 

He smiled, eyes going soft. There was a long pause, he seemed to be gathering courage until he spoke, 

“Douze fois l'heure a frappé l'air. Et près de toi je suis encore assise; Et, loin de pressentir le moment du sommeil. Je croyais voir encore un rayon de soleil.”

His eyes never left yours while he recited the poem; when he finished, you realized you had forgotten to breathe.

You spoke softly, “What does that mean?”

He took one of your hands in his again, brushing his thumb over your skin, “It means that I’ve spent a great deal of time with you today and I know the day is ending, but it doesn’t quite feel that way.”

“What does it feel like then?” You hoped your voice didn’t sound hoarse; it made you unexpectedly emotional to have French poetry recited to you. There had to be people more deserving of something so special, but here you were with Steven and somehow he felt that way about you.

“It feels like we’re just starting. And even when today ends, I hope my time with you doesn’t end with it.”

“Steven-” But words didn’t seem to capture what you wanted to say and you didn’t have any French poetry handy, so you hugged him again, burying your face in the crook of his neck to hide the way your eyes were glossing over. 

And by now, Steven no longer felt strange holding someone in his arms. It was beginning to feel like you belonged there. 

Neither of you said anything for a long several seconds. When you finally broke the silence, your voice was thick, “Steven, I really quite adore you, I hope you realize that.” You chuckled into his shoulder, “Sorry I don’t have any poems memorized.”

He gripped your shoulders, leaning back so he could see your face, “Are you crying?” Worry etched itself into his expression, his lips pulling down into a frown.

You blinked, trying to keep the tears back, “No.”

“Have I said something wrong?” he asked, gaze locked on yours.

“No,” you shook your head, the motion making your eyes spill over. You hastily reached for your face, but Steven gently caught your wrist, eyes pleading with you to confide in him. “You’ve said everything right, actually."

"Then what's the matter?” He wanted to wipe your face dry himself, but  he was worried you’d push him away; it was unlike you to be withholding. 

You wrestled with your answer and Steven caught a glimpse of an expression he knew well. He’d seen it many times on his own face, even when he wasn’t the one feeling it; self-doubt. 

Steven cupped your face, brushing the stray tears away with his thumbs, “Love, you deserve the whole world. I’d wager some absolute twit did something stupid to make you believe otherwise?” 

Steven watched the faint flicker of pain cross your expression at whatever memory had been conjured up, “Whoever he was, he was a right prat for letting you go.” His expression darkened in a way you hadn’t seen before, “He best hope I never cross his path if he made you feel this way.” 

You would never have expected Steven to be the type to make threats, but as he said it, you believed him. Steven acted like a softy- and he was, mostly. But he was also full of passion, far beyond just enthusiasm for Egypt.

“Steven?”

“Yes, darling?” The shadow in his eyes dissipated and the soft Steven you knew was back, brushing his thumb over your cheek.

“Kiss me again?”

He leaned in slightly, pausing, “You’ll talk to me about this someday, yeah?”

You nodded, blinking at the tears still clinging to your lashes, “Yes.”

Then his lips were on yours; still a bit hesitant, but already improving. You knew you were maybe going a bit fast for him, your lips frantic on his, but you couldn’t get enough. There might never be enough of this sweet, wonderful man to satiate your need for him. 

You slid your hands up his chest until they skimmed over his collarbones, brushing up the sides of his neck. Dragging your nails over the back of his neck, you nipped his lower lip, surprised when Steven moaned, a sharp sound he quickly tried to tamp down, but it was too late.

You broke your lips from his, pressing your forehead to his, “Sorry.”

Steven was a bit short of breath, but he shook his head, “Don’t be.” 

You offered him a small smile, “Makes me feel a bit better, to be honest.”

“Happy to help any way that I can,” he half-joked.

“You have.”

He dropped his hands to hold yours, “Can I confess something?”

You smiled, hoping to lighten things up again, “Like a murder?”

“Less dramatic and more embarrassing, I’m afraid.” Steven was just glad to see your smile; he didn’t ever want to see you cry again.

“Spill the tea,” you chuckled.

He gave his head a half shake, “Why would I spill tea?”

You couldn’t help but laugh, “It’s just slang; it just means to tell me the gossip. The better the gossip, the hotter the tea.” 

“Bit silly, isn’t it? Why would anyone purposely spill hot tea?”

You bit your lip to stifle the smile at Steven’s indignation, “Sorry to upset your British sensitivities.”

“It’s dangerous, if you think about it-”

“Steven?” He paused his dissection of the expression, “You were confessing to murder, I believe.”

He gave an embarrassed smile, “Right.” Cheeks going rosy, he added, “Although if my girlfriend is going to intentionally spill tea-”

You blurted it out before you could think better of it, “Am I your girlfriend?” 

“Oh-” His expression fell, “-bugger. I was going to do something special to ask you, but I’ve kept thinking about it today and I suppose I got a bit excited. And that’s if you even wanted to be-”

“I do want to be,” you offered, trying to head off the insecurity he was working himself up to. “But, I will politely decline your request to be your girlfriend today.” You hoped he understood what you were trying to do.

“You will?” You’d never heard someone so excited to be turned down before. 

You couldn’t help but laugh at his tone, “I will. We’re just sort of seeing each other, isn’t that right?”

He nodded seriously, “Very casual.”

“No big deal.”

“Not even a deal, really. Sort of an agreement.”

“An understanding,” you offered with a stoic nod.

“Precisely.”

You stared at each other for a moment before you burst out into laughter. You were tearing up again, but this time your sides were starting to hurt from laughing so much. The sound of Steven’s laughter made your chest feel warm, that long forgotten feeling of butterflies suddenly returning. 

As your laughter faded, you couldn’t rid yourself of the smile on your face. Now that you thought about it, you couldn’t remember a day when you’d smiled this much. 

“So, what was that confession?” you finally asked, once you were both relatively composed.

Steven’s already pink cheeks darkened at the reminder, “Yes- that. I, ah- I don’t think I want you to leave.” He rushed to follow up, “I mean, it’s late. I’d feel awful if I didn’t make sure you got home safely and I’m sure your feet could use a bit of a break-”

“Are you inviting me to stay?” You definitely weren’t expecting that.

He flinched, almost like he’d hoped the words would fade before you heard them, “Only if you want to, of course. You would take my bed, obviously, I can take the sofa-”

“Steven, I’m not taking your bed,” you gave him an exasperated look.

“I can’t let you take the sofa.” The disdain in his tone was enough for you to bury that idea.

“Then stay with me. In your bed.”

“I can’t- that would be- I just-” he had so many protests, he couldn’t seem to land on which one to use first.

“Steven, I’m not suggesting we have sex, just to be clear.”

The red tinge was creeping down his neck now, “Well, that’s a relief at least, but still-”

Normally you would be offended if someone looked so relieved not to sleep with you, but you knew Steven’s heart was in the right place. You rubbed his arm reassuringly, conceding, “I can take a cab home.”

“It’s not that I don’t want to,” Steven explained, looking pained. “You’re entirely gorgeous and I-” 

"Steven, it’s alright. We’ve had a great day, or at least I have, and I really don’t want to push you into doing something you don’t want to, but I also don’t want to put you out.” You lifted your shoulders in an easy shrug, “I should’ve left already, actually, but it turns out I’m awful at saying goodbye to you.”

“Because she wants to stay,” Marc offered from his reflection in the window. “Don’t let her leave, Steven.”

“I can’t exactly force her to stay, can I?”

“You wouldn’t have to if you’d stop being-”

“Would you mind walking me out then?” You unknowingly interrupted Marc, grabbing Steven’s hand and giving it a soft tug toward the front door.

Steven didn’t move, the internal battle transparently raging behind his eyes. You felt a bit bad; you were being kind of difficult. But you knew you wouldn’t get any sleep knowing Steven was in the next room over when he could be with you.

You released his hand, pulling your phone out instead, “Actually, I’m going to call the cab now, I’ll be right back.” Steven watched you move off into the living room, feeling a bit frustrated. 

“Are you really just gonna let her go?”

“I can’t do it, Marc. I can’t share a bed with her.”

"Fine."

"Cab will be about ten minutes or so," you reported, coming back over. Seeing Steven still looking stressed, you put your hand on his shoulder, "Steven, it's really alright."

Guilt washed over his face, “I hope I haven’t hurt your feelings because I really do want to- I want to be close to you that way- quite badly, actually, but I’m a bit nervous-”

You stopped him before he could spiral too much, offering a reassuring smile, “My feelings are just fine. I understand.”

“You do?”

“I do. I don’t want to rush things between us; we can go at whatever pace you’re comfortable with.” He visibly relaxed at that, shoulders slackening as he lowered his hands from their holding place at his ribcage. “That said, I can admit that I’m very excited to get close like that.” 

You stepped closer, sliding your hands around his waist, “I’ll be looking forward to sleeping in and cuddling up in bed and holding each other and stealing little kisses and-”

“Is it too late to change my answer?” he gave a weak chuckle, hoping you wouldn’t be able to hear how dry his throat had gone. 

You stole a quick kiss, his lips chasing yours a bit as you moved back, “Next time.”

His hands found your hips, “Next time could be right now, couldn’t it?” 

You tilted your head, “I’m not sure that’s how it works.”

“We’ve been on two dates today, haven’t we? What’s one more?”

You laughed, “Alright, I respect that you’ve used my logic against me, but I already called the cab. I’ll see you again soon.” 

“How about tomorrow evening?” He knew he sounded clingy, but he couldn’t bring himself to mind. “I’m off at seven.” 

And you knew you should probably take some time to cool off; you were feeling a bit infatuated right now. But you nodded, “I’d like that.”

“I could make you dinner,” he offered. 

You raised an eyebrow, “I thought you said you didn’t like to cook.”

“I don't mind it, but I’m probably a bit rusty,” he admitted. 

“I could help you.”

He chuckled, “As much as I want to refuse, that’s probably for the best.”

"Meet you here at eight then?"

Beaming, he nodded, "It's a date."

You returned his smile, but before you could reply, there was a ping from your phone, "Looks like my ride is here."

"I'll walk you down then. Oh, and don't forget your things." He hastily grabbed the flowers and chocolates from the table, keeping them clutched in one hand while the other went to the small of your back. He seemed to just want to have a hand on you the whole way out of his apartment, holding your hand in the elevator too. The only time he broke contact was when he rushed ahead to get the front door, following you out to the curb where your taxi was waiting. 

He opened the car door and gently put your gifts on the backseat, asking the driver for a quick moment. He buried his hands in his pockets, rocking on his heels, “Suppose I’ll see you tomorrow then, yeah?”

You nodded, surprised by the sudden bit of awkwardness between the two of you; things had come so easily up until now, “Tomorrow.” You realized you were still wearing his jacket and you moved to take it off, “Here, I should give this back-”

“No- you might need it on the way home. You can keep it,” he quickly unburied his hands to still yours.

“Steven, you’ve worn this almost every time I’ve seen you. I don’t want to take your favorite jacket.”

He shrugged his shoulders, “Looks better on you anyway, don’t it? Besides, makes sense my favorite jacket and my favorite-” He seemed to catch himself, his face going pink even under the faint light of the streetlamps.

You didn’t tease him; you were feeling a bit flushed as well. Not wanting to keep the cabbie waiting, you leaned in, kissing Steven’s cheek, “I’ll see you tomorrow then.”

“Right, tomorrow. Let me know once you’ve gotten home then?”

You smiled, “I will.” You climbed into the cab, “Good night, Steven.”

He offered a wry smile, “Good night, dearest.” He somewhat reluctantly closed the door, remaining on the curb until the car pulled away. He was sad to see you go, almost wishing he’d listened to Marc, but he couldn’t help a smile as you turned back, waving out the cab’s rear window.

Marc’s voice echoing in his head surprised him, “You are so screwed.”

Steven watched the cab round a corner, finally disappearing, his voice a bit dreamy, “Yeah, I suppose I am, aren’t I?”

True to your word, you sent Steven a text when you arrived safely at home. You did have to endure a bit of teasing from Dalton when you asked for a vase for your flowers, but they looked nice on your bedside table. And they made you think of Steven, though not so much as the jacket, which you were embarrassingly tempted to sleep in. You stubbornly put the jacket on a hanger, mounting it on the closet door instead of inside.

You couldn’t believe you’d almost slept over on the first date- thank god Dalton didn’t know that part. The bit of distance between the two of you didn’t make your head much clearer either; you still wished Steven had just agreed- then you’d probably be cuddled up with him right now. But then he wouldn’t be the Steven you liked so much- your Steven, as you were coming to think of him. 

Every reason you’d come here seemed to fade into the background in comparison to the way you’d felt today. None of those things seemed to matter. They were all just background, the build-up to the part of your life that could be starting right now. You knew you were lovestruck, that much was obvious. But aside from that, this felt like something. 

Your phone buzzed on the nightstand while you brushed your teeth and your heart leapt. You’d sent a simple, “Made it home safe. Thank you for today.”

Steven had replied, “Glad to hear it. I should be thanking you- sorry it had to end.”

You smiled, “You’d best not be beating yourself up. This was the right call. It was perfect.” You finished brushing your teeth and climbed into bed, phone still in your hand.

Steven hesitated before sending his next reply, “Still, think I’ll be up missing you tonight.”

“Don’t lose too much sleep- can’t have the museum’s newest tour guide showing up late, can we?” You sent a quick follow up, “Feel free to think about me tomorrow though.” You set your phone on the bedside table, gaze flicking up to Steven’s jacket. Was this really all the willpower you were capable of?

When Steven’s reply came through, you were just climbing back into bed, his jacket wrapped around you. “You say that like I’ve got a choice.” Well, at least it seemed like you were both equally as spineless when it came to the other.

“Do your best to get some sleep, for me.” You bit your lip, considering before snapping a quick picture of yourself. You wondered if he’d notice the collar of his jacket poking out from under the blanket.

“Oh my days, she’s wearin’ my jacket to bed.” Steven was dumbstruck, staring at the photo you’d sent to him.

“Nicely done,” Marc nodded approvingly. 

Steven gave a dreamy sigh, “Would you look at her? She’s so stunning.” He couldn’t help but add again, “And wearing my clothes.”

Marc wanted to point out that you could be here, right now, if Steven hadn’t chickened out. But that would also mean that Marc would've had to remain in the background. He wouldn’t admit it to Steven, but today had been difficult. It had been a while since Marc had to be so quiet in the back of Steven’s mind.

If Steven noticed Marc’s long silence, he didn’t draw attention to it. “Is it alright if I make this the background on our phone?”

Marc wouldn’t miss the photo of the fish tank that currently graced their phone screen, but he felt strange about using a phone with your face on it. You weren’t his, you were Steven’s. It felt like an invasion of privacy- like he was trespassing in your relationship.

“Marc? That alright with you?”

“It’s fine- sorry,” he offered hastily.

Satisfied, Steven confirmed his changes, grinning as he returned to his home screen to find your face there. Marc thought he was off the hook, but Steven looked for Marc’s face in the fish tank, “You alright then? Sorry it was such a long day, but I’ll make it up to you- and tomorrow night too-”

“I’m fine, Steven,” Marc reassured him. “I’m happy for you.”

Steven paused, “You could be happy for you too.” He rushed to say the rest, “I think if we told her the truth, she would-”

“No. No, no, no,” Marc shook his head. “That is not happening.”

Steven’s face fell, “It’s got to eventually, don’t it? We don’t want to repeat the same mistakes.” Steven didn’t have to specify which mistakes; he meant Layla. 

“Eventually nothing. We can cross whatever bridges when we come to them.” He didn’t want to ruin Steven’s good day, but he was not ready for this conversation.

“I don’t want to build a relationship on a lie, Marc. And I think she’d love you too.”

“Love me too? You don’t even know if she loves you yet- it’s been one day, Steven.”

“Well I know that,” Steven huffed. “But don’t you feel it?”

Marc unhappily played along, “Feel what?”

“That bit of…rightness in your chest,” Steven fumbled for the right words. “Like she fits perfectly, right here.” He clasped his hand into a fist over his heart, holding it in place with the other. 

“Steven, she’s your girlfriend. I don’t feel anything.”

“Well, she’s not my girlfriend yet- I’m going to ask her proper.”

“Well if you never text her back, she might say no.”

“Bloody hell, you’re right- I’ve forgotten to reply- I hope she hasn’t already fallen asleep, although she does need the rest-”

Marc stopped listening, grateful to have Steven distracted, at least for now. But he kind of missed the way things were before- just him and Steven. Everything was changing again and just once, he’d halfway hoped they could stay the same for a while. But you were here now and it was clear there was no going back.

Phone still in your hand, the faint buzz of Steven’s reply wasn’t enough to wake you. You would see his “Good night, love. Sleep well and see you tomorrow,” in the morning. 

[imabeautifulbutterfly]

If you are still doing your followers celebration I got something for you 😉

To me this fits the Clones so well. There is so many pairs you could do of brothers being there for brothers (I'm talking strictly brother like, not clone shipping).... Like Rex/Cody, Fox/Thorn, Rex/Cody/Wolffe.... Anyways my ask is for you to take this song and do whatever you want with it, with whatever clones you feel this fits to make a brotherhood kinda story of your dreams lol. If you're up for something like that. 💙💙

Thank you @callsign-denmark for such a brilliant request.

I hope I did this song justice: Brotherhood by Miza, Rosendale.

It was such an emotional song, and maybe that's just me, but it really felt emotional.

I apologize for the delay in posting, things got hectic, this week. Like really crazy. I apologize.

Love oo,

Brotherhood

Warnings: Following Umbara arc, mentions of deaths, trauma, grief, pain, guilt, survivor's guilt, I think that's it, if I miss anything please let me know.

Main Master List   | Star Wars Jukebox Roulette |   AO3 Link

Kix sat on a cargo crate in the hangar, his face in his hands, as he tried to come to terms with everything that happened, with the betrayal of a Jedi, the loss of one of Hardcase, the loss of so many men. 

A shuddering breath escaped from his lips, as he tried not to let anyone notice the tears that were sliding down his face. His eyes shifted from the pile of armour in front of him, slowly focusing on the bodies of his fallen brothers he’d been unable to save. 

No one realized or really knew the sort of toll it took on him knowing he failed them. No matter how hard he tried, how he used all his might to save each and every single one of his brothers, only to fail them, one by one. 

To save so few in comparison to the ones he lost was an overwhelming feeling of defeat and loss. 

Life wasn’t fair, most of the men who lay there with a nondescript sheet over there, hadn’t even been able to live. Most were shinies, never even having a chance to step foot in 79’s or learning how connected you could feel to someone who wasn’t even your brother, simply by holding that special person in their arms. They’d been bred to fight and to die, that’s all they’d known. 

Every one of those men, who were now lying on the cold durasteel floor not even ten feet from where Kix sat, learned only one thing from the moment they were brought out of the growth chambers to the moment of their death: what it was to feel pain. Pain from training, pain from fighting, pain from seeing their brothers die, pain from not eating enough, pain from not sleeping enough. Everyday was pain for them, up until the moment of their deaths. 

Kix took in a shuddering breath once again as he rubbed his eyes, fighting back the tears that were so desperate to escape. 

Jesse had been watching his vod for a few minutes, he could see the turmoil radiating off him, he slowly walked over, taking a seat beside him wrapping his arm around Kix as he pulled him into his side.

“It’s not your fault, vod.” 

Kix didn’t respond to Jesse’s statement, simply wiping his tears as Jesse continued.

“None of the lives lost was your fault.”

“It was my job to save them.”

“It was your job to try your best, and I know you, vod, you always do your best.”

Kix broke down in Jesse’s arms, unable to hold back the unending upheaval inside of him. 

Rex watched from afar, his heart breaking for his vod. Kix didn’t deserve to suffer, he didn’t deserve to have feelings of guilt for the loss of his brothers. 

It wasn’t Kix’s fault. 

It was his own fault. At least that’s what he kept telling himself.  

After all, as Captain, he was the one responsible for sending his men out, all those men’s deaths, all the pain and suffering Kix was dealing with, what all his brothers were dealing with, this was all on him. 

He headed towards his office, paying his respects to his fallen brothers. He simply wanted the confines of his office, he didn’t want to be reminded of more deaths he could be responsible for; every single one of his vode’s faces he looked held the possibility of death in the near future. 

He was near his office when he ran into Fives. It still stung seeing Fives without Echo, and now he lost Hardcase too. It was just too much, it was all too much. 

Fives could see Rex was struggling, he stood in front of him preventing him from moving on. He knew his ori’vod well enough to know he’d never actually discuss what was wrong, but the least he could do was try to get him to open up. 

“Rex, you okay?” 

“Why wouldn’t I be?” Rex took in a deep breath, before he even had the strength to look at Fives in the eye. 

“Come on vod, it’s written all over your face. Talk to me.”

Rex propped himself against the hallway, rubbing the back of his neck as he leaned against the cold steel wall, hoping it would somehow give him the strength to talk. He leaned his head back looking at the ceiling, noticing how meticulous those cleaning droids could be, even cleaning the ceiling. He closed his eyes and for some reason he couldn’t explain, his mouth just started moving. 

“I’ve lost so many good men, Fives. And each one of those men died, because they were following my orders. Not anyone else’s. Mine.”

“Rex…” 

He simply shook his head, he didn’t want to hear it right now from Fives, it was taking all his strength to just do his best to keep the tears back as he continued talking.  

“I’ve been in so many skirmishes, but I still remember each one of my brother’s faces and number. Bellow, those lost in the battle Hisseenian and Christophsis, Hevy, Flash, Cameron, Lucky, Denal, Koho, Buzz, Gearshift, Redeye, Mixer, Hawkeye, Kosmos, Charger, Longshot, Echo …” his voice trembled, there’d been so many deaths and he was responsible for each one. How many more could he bear, and now with how devastating Umbara had been. His hands trembled as he wiped a tear. 

Fives gripped his shoulder, it wasn’t the Captain’s fault, he knew that and somewhere in the back of Rex’s mind, he’d known that too. Fives took a deep breath and offered the only consolation he could think of. 

“We’ve all lost brothers, Rex. We’re all grieving, and feeling guilty for not being the ones lying on the floor beside them.”

“It’s more than that,” Rex shifted his head and looked at his brother, “I’m responsible, you  - - you didn’t send them to their deaths. I did. All those lives lost … because of me. Because I failed.”

“That wasn’t you. None of this is your fault. You weren’t responsible for their deaths. You were following orders. At the end of the day, we’re all just following orders, vod.”

Rex scoffed “To our deaths.”

Fives nodded in agreement, as he squeezed Rex’s shoulder, “At least we’ll meet it together then.”

Rex chuckled as he looked at Fives and nodded, “True. Alright, Fives. Off with you.” He motioned with his head down the hall, the overwhelming emotions finally simmering back down below the surface, “I’m sure you have somewhere to be.”

“Yes, sir.” Fives saluted and carried on his way, hoping at the very least he gave his brother some comfort. 

Main Master List   | Star Wars Jukebox Roulette |   AO3 Link

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[riordanverserpdatabase]

Welcome back users!!! We apologize for the delay, but it is time to get our Head Counselor event running!!!! Here are today's Polls and Results!!!

Cabin 1 - Zeus

Congratulations Finley Zavala, our only applicant for Cabin 1!!! You will be listed in the Database as a Head Counselor form now on until you resign!!! Here is Finley's Application response!

Finley, Why would you be a good fit for head counselor? @braving-the-storm

I would be a good fit because I'm a good communicator/problem solver, I can adapt easily, I'm willing to learn and I'm always here to listen.

Thank you for participating, Finley!!! Congratulations again!!!

Cabin 2 - Hera

There is currently only 1 Camper reported in Cabin 2, and she did not apply, but we will honor the cabin with a space anyways!!! Thank you Cabin 2!!!

Cabin 3 - Poseidon

Our first vote!!! Please put in your choice for Head Counselor of Cabin 3!! (We will link campers form cabin 3, but anyone is allowed to vote!!)

Propaganda below for each of them, taken from their applications!! Emerson, Why would you be a good fit for Head Counselor? @that-stupid-child-of-neptune

I'm very responsible... most of the time. I'm good at keeping up moral. I also have a dog for if anyone is sad! I know I'm a roman demigod but I spend most of time at camp half-blood!

SK, why would you be a good fit for Head Counselor? @daonedaonlyskh

it would be funny if we were to make one of the youngest members of the cabin head counselor. I like being helpful and tend to do well in leadership positions. I will also give you a cookie (of your preferred color and variety) if you vote for me.

Cabin 3, Please tell us what you think!! (This is for the Database, so whoever you choose will be listed as Head Counselor on our page and linked when new campers arrive with the title as well!)

Anjali Eliza Mastroti @poseidons-favourite-daughter

Cordelia (Cordi) Campbell @totally-not-a-mermaid

Elizabeth @yourfavoriteearthshaker

Kaia @kaia-roleplay

Kallias @ocean-struck-boy

@that-dam-daughter-of-poseidon

Lilly @unhinged-as-hell

@poseidons-hyperactive-kid

[albentelisa]

Sending this ask again, just in case tumblr ate it yet again

This idea is a little dark ...... but I couldnt help but imagine grand-father Gunmar trying to bond with jim and failing at it

Like he hears that jim likes to cook, especially to his loved ones !! So he goes/says

Gunmar : I heard that you like to cook for your family, so I have a proposition for you

Jim ( thinking ) " oh maybe he's not so bad "

Gunmar : When I'm conquering the surface world, you can be the royal chef !! And you'll get to cook more fleshbags than you ever dreamed !!

Just Gunmar getting a good start cause he paid attention to jim's interests, but still failing cause he's well ...... Gunmar

Hi again🥰🥰🥰

I apologize about the delay with the response (this time I actually got the ask). I really enjoy getting those, but I can be slow with the response because

1. Time difference (especially if you are in America as it means that we have 10-12 hours difference)

2. My job, as I work double shifts (and if some of my co-workers are sick, it may be even more, and as we have a flu season started here already😩😩😩😩)

Anyway, you're so right that Gunmar will absolutely suck when it comes to bonding with Jim, as he will never try to go beyond the surface level. Besides, Gunmar's reasoning is that he fathered countless progeny, so he can understand young gumm-gumms (he can't, and well, Jim is a special case anyway).

[nateezfics]

Oh Nattt, I have Hongjoong thoughts for youuu~ (I was inspired by the aventus creed post & an old prompt about having a scent kink).

So, picture it: a Christmas vacation with Hongjoong in any country you choose, and you're in the finest luxury suite they have, because it's only the best quality for his love. You're touring the local hot spots and you're so so busy exploring the sights, and Hongjoong is ready to do all you'd like, but he just can't seem to get you alone. Anything you do involves other people. Touring the sites? It's with a guide and a group. Heading out for a drive? It's with a chauffeur. Going to dinner? It has to be at the fancy restaurant hotel instead of room service. And he's getting a little impatient. He doesn't mind those things, but he just wants some alone time with his baby. And when you're coming back from dinner, he starts to tell you how he feels, but before he can, a man passes you by.

As he passes, you catch a whiff of his cologne. "Excuse me, but your cologne smells amazing." The man smiles, giving you a quick once over before thanking you and continuing on his way. When you turn back, you don't realize that was Hongjoong's last straw. As you take the elevator back to your room, you notice he is unusually quiet. He doesn't say anything as you walk into the room until the door is closed. Grabbing you by the waist, he gently lays you back on the bed, before hovering over you and trapping you with his arms. You're suddenly surrounded by him; his presence, his body, his scent. He floods your senses. He trails his hand slowly over the skin of your throat as he speaks. "Sweetheart, I love that you're enjoying our trip so much. But don't you think I deserve some of your time? Hm? We haven't been alone since we got here, and I'm honestly kind of upset with you."

You're barely paying attention, since all you can focus on is the way he smells. The scent of his cologne is making your brain short circuit; you're reminded of past nights spent in his arms, and you can feel yourself slipping into the heated memories and the absolute need that they bring with them. Hongjoong noticed your eyes glazing over, and he smirked before tapping your cheek. "I can see it won't be too hard to make you forget all about that other guy." Your brows furrow in confusion as you ask him who he means, and he laughs. "Like I said, easy. Spread your legs for me, love."

(the end☺️)

oh bby😭 i apologize for the delayed response;; i’ve been reading this over and over again, and it’s just so hot i have a hard time coming up with words to respond with 🥴

the sprinkle of possessive hongjoong. oh god. that gets me. every damn time. “i can see it won’t be too hard to make you forget all about that other guy” *screams, kicks feet* like sir you’re the only guy i’m thinking about wdym 🥴 the way hong would know he’s the only one who’s got your attention, but would remind you anyways. “spread your legs for me, love” they were already wide open!!!!

i’d like to imagine he’d take you to paris. idk, i just do. he’d love the sight seeing with you,, but like you said, he’d get tired of the lack of alone time with you. he’d be so pouty about it too, and the guy being flirty with you while asking about your scent would be the straw the broke the camel’s back. absolutely would ravish you once he gets you alone.

imagine him doing sensory play, knowing how much you love his scent. blindfolding you, ultimately heightening your other senses by taking away your sight. the way your sense of smell would be even stronger, and you’d be even more sensitive to his scent, his touch, and the sound of his voice.

this is so hot i’m literally malfunctioning thinking about this 🙃🙃

[jellogram]

I think what really gets you with ADHD is how, from your earliest memories, you are being negged over and over again. It's like your self esteem suffers a death by a thousand cuts and it starts when you're a kid.

You don't know where your permission slip is even though it was in your hand a second ago and now your parents are mad. You stare at the socks on the floor and try to pick them up but it just doesn't happen and now you're getting yelled at for being a slob. You're more likely to be a night owl, so now you're being called lazy and hearing "Well, look who finally decided to join us 🙄" every weekend as a teenager. You failed the test because you couldn't pay attention to the lecture. You failed the assignment because you forgot it existed. Now people are telling you that you're dumb, or lazy, need to think about your future. You let food go bad in the fridge and you can hear your dad's voice in your head reprimanding you for wasting it. Every email starts with "Sorry for the delayed response!" because you've learned you need to apologize for these things before anyone gets angry with you (and they might anyway).

Most of your mistakes are not catastrophic. Everybody does all of these things sometimes and has to hear that negging. But you do them constantly, so you hear the negging constantly. If no one says it to you, you will hear it in your head anyway. Like a reflex. Because you heard it all the time when you were a kid, so now it's just a part of you. Constantly deserving criticism is just part of being alive. Your purest self seems like someone who needs to be berated. And it's really, really, hard to accept that this isn't true.

[ceaselesswatchersspecialboy]

Hello!

This is a humongous ask with a lot of context please please feel free to ignore😵‍💫

So I hold the hc that Ford is absolutely NPD, that Stanley has CPTSD and perhaps even BPD (we see him obsess over his FP throughout his entire life and while he represses as much as he can, it is still very clear that he feels DEEPLY either negative or positive emotions.)

I am in the middle of writing a fic where both men fall into the portal. If you are interested in understanding the premise, basically Bill fucks up by showing Ford exactly what happens during the some lowest moments of Stan's drifter years. Bill wants to destroy Ford's self worth and show him that he is a monster "just like Me"

The result being that Ford is wracked by Narcissistic injury. He contacts Stan, Stan comes, fight happens near the portal, Stan gets burned, but before Stan can push Ford into the portal, Ford rapid-fires some panic apologies and begs for forgiveness about .. everything. They are both physically fucked and by sheer bad luck end up falling through the portal just as they begin to communicate.

My AU is called Trust Falls

(https://archiveofourown.org/works/59665708)

At the moment in my writing I am working on the delayed reaction of Ford's narcissistic injury paired with the somewhat foreign to Ford idea that he has to not just rely on Stanley for both of them to survive but in fact Stan has skills and knowledge that Ford simply doesn't.

I am personally a BPD autistic person (with NPD people in my life that I love and I know love me) and I am struggling to properly represent Ford's internal struggle with this. I am also struggling to work in other NPD traits such as his manipulation of circumstances.

Another aspect to my story is that Ford is going to go through some pretty intense psychological trauma (think the Lamp story from reddit) and I want him to struggle to feel connected to his humanity, for some later healing when they get back to their home.

As an NPD person, do you have any recommendations on ways you would approach his injury and perhaps ways his ego would get them into trouble with locals around the multiverse?

I am trying really hard to not just simply ignore his NPD qualities in favor of "yay the boys can hug it out" bullshit narratives that I groan at.

I’ll try and do my best in wording all this, and will mostly be going off my own experience, so naturally I don’t speak for every narcissist, but I hope this can be of help anyway!

When it comes to writing and understanding Narcissistic Injuries, one of the most important thing to keep in mind is the root of it, as those will inform the character’s behaviours and reaction. The most common feelings related to Narcissistic Injury are things shame, humiliation, insecurity etc, and because we are usually unable of coping with that, and our view of ourself has just been challenged or even damaged, we turn those feelings elsewhere as a defence mechanism: anger is the most common response I find.

In Ford’s case, I imagine it’s only further worsened by the fact he has to rely on Stan. Honestly, that would probably piss me off if I was in his position. His self-worth has just been damaged beyond repair, which is already going to cause an array of negative emotions, and now, he’s been made even more vulnerable, with someone who simply put, knows more than him in this situation. It would be a blow to his pride.

I can see him doing things like refusing Stan’s help or going against what Stan tells him to do, believing he can handle a situation or do it better, lashing out and trying to prove his worth again, but he’ll likely only make himself feel worse in the process. It’s a horrible cycle to be stuck in.

You have to remember when writing that Ford’s response is only a shield, protecting himself from others but also his own feelings. He doesn’t want to acknowledge his own weakness. That’s just not an option. Every little disagreement in this state is going to be more than that to Ford — it’s going to be an insult. He may interpret Stan’s words as telling him he isn’t capable, or that he isn’t smart enough, when Stan is really just trying to help them both survive.

Hell, he’ll probably respond like this to most forms of assistance or locals trying to correct him, becoming snappy or defensive, insisting he knew that, or that they don’t need help, because he has it under control. I know for a fact I, even with how much I’ve improved my coping, still snap back with how I don’t need help, or that I was managing just fine, or that I actually intended to do that all along. It’s easier than just admitting you’re struggling.

I can see Ford pissing off a few people with that mindset.

It probably does help that a lot of this also stems from guilt, which means he likely feels responsible for Stan, and only grows more frustrated with himself when he can’t protect him.

Also Manipulation! I think I can word this one a bit easier I’m way more self-aware about that sort of thing.

The thing about manipulation with narcissism, is it isn’t always the obvious things. When manipulating a situation, it can be as simple as very intentional comments designed to garner attention or sympathy, although, intentional as it is, in my own experience, this tends to run on auto pilot. It just… is. You just do it. It’s also sometimes about speaking confidently enough that you convince people your idea is the better one, and thereby securing your own preferred outcome. Most times, it’s habit. Also, for me, and I think for Ford in this situation, manipulation is a way to regain control, if it helps to think of it like that?

Ford has to be in control, he has to be perfect, he has to be the smartest in the room, he has to be worth something, he has to make it up to Stan, otherwise, what has his life even been for?

Apologies if this is messy or doesn’t clear up certain things. It’s nearly 12am as I write this so I’m just balling it. I really appreciate you putting in the effort to write this kind of dynamic though!

[dazedquilly]

I finally found time to finish it! Yay!!! 💀😭

Also please note that this is a high school au so characters would be aged up. No pedo behavior is welcomed! And forgive me if any mistakes were made, I tried to proofread as much as possible.

Anyways, hope you enjoy the second part!

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In the Rain, We Meet Again- Part 2

Two weeks later, the second term is finally here. Back to procrastination and late nights of doing homework, You were reluctant to go but your mom insisted that "it was for your future" as they all do, you were however, excited to see your friends. They made your school life a bit more easier with the chaos they brought, you still thought about the boy you met in the rain the other day. How crazy would it be if you met him again! But that would never happen... right? Anyways, time was ticking and much more thinking would make you late for school. You quickly finished your breakfast and dashed out the door, yelling "Bye!" on your way out.

As you skipped along the way you bumped into someone, your bestfriend, Aoi. You both talked on and on about the short vacation you were given. "Oh, by the way, something interesting happened two weeks ago," you started off.

"Really? Well don't be shy, go on!!" Aoi certainly seemed interested in the tea that was about to spill.

"Well... it may or may not have something to do with a boy-"

Your speech was interrupted by her exclamation, "WHAT?! YOU? Y/N? WITH A BOY? I refuse to believe it." She knew how you were, most of the time you didn't pay any mind to boys around you but now here you were, bringing up one in the conversation. She had every right to be shocked.

"Well, if you'd let me finish you'd understand!" And so as you two walked to school, you told her about the encounter and how you both chatted and walked in the rain. "My.. and you waited until now to tell me?? WE BOTH HAVE PHONES Y'KNOW? THIS IS DELAYED INFO." Aoi was only joking but her sudden yelling made you jump, "I apologize, my dear best friend, please do not kill me..!" You both laughed at your response and entered the school gate, making your way to your classroom, it seemed like Nezuko and Kanao had already arrived earlier as they waved you over. "Guess what?" Aoi started, she obviously was not gonna gatekeep the tea that was spilled, Nezuko spoke up, "What is it? You don't normally look this excited so my guess is that this is good news..?"

You spoke up, "I walked in the rain with a good-looking boy, no biggie." Nezuko gave you a deathstare, "No biggie? NO BIGGIE?! DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA OF WHAT YOU JUST SAID?!" You slowly nodded, "Y e s...?"

Just as the two were about to rant on, your teacher entered the classroom. You all scrambled to your seats, but as you sit down next to Aoi, you see a strange, familiar person enter after your teacher.

"I wonder who that is.." Aoi whispered to you. Just then another similar person entered, in fact the two looked like printed copies of each other, "I think I'm seeing doubles.." You whispered back. Aoi only nodded in silence as the four of you stare on. Even after they said their names, Muichiro and Yuichiro, you still couldn't tell the two apart, then it struck you, one out of two them was the boy who walked with you in the rain. "Aoi..." You started as she turned to you, "I think one of them walked in the rain with me.."  Her eyes widened, "WHA..?!" You had to cover her mouth so the entire class wouldn't be aware of your conversation.

"Yes, it was definitely one of them." You continued in a positive tone. "You lucky rat.." Aoi hissed, as you giggled at the comment, just as you were about to speak you saw the two print copies sit down behind you. It took every single muscle in you and Aoi's bodies to not turn around and stare at their beauty. Class soon finished and one of the two got up and left for break as the other sat there silently. You and Aoi got up to leave but he grabbed your hand, motioning he wanted to talk to you. Your friends watched on, giving you either teasing looks or a smirk but decided leave the two of you alone.

"You.." He started, "You look familiar.." You watched him and said with a laugh, "Don't you remember? We walked in the rain together!" He nodded, finally understanding. "I see..." You continued, "By the way, is that your twin brother? Also which one are you? Muichiro? Or Yuichiro?" He only shook his head and replied, "We're a twin if that wasn't obvious, and I'm Muichiro." You sighed, finally understanding now, "Ahh, okay! I'm Y/n!" You held your hand out to shake and he received it, "I didn't know you would move to this school! Is that why you were in town that week? Getting stuff?"

Muichiro only nodded. And for the rest of your questions, he either nodded or shook his head. Even though this was your first day back at school, you felt that this would be quite the interesting school term!

[arcielee]

Farewell Wanderlust

Warnings: As always, MDNI, 18+ past trauma mentioned, sexual themes, unprotected sex, grinding, oral (female receiving), fighting and death, holy ground being disturbed? Pairing: Osferth x OFC Word Count: 5138 Summary: Torn from her home country, Keavy finds herself trying to survive across the Irish sea. She happens across Uhtred and his motley crew, and finds herself befriending a monk who is determined to become a warrior. Author’s Note: I apologize for the delay, irl is being tedious for me, but I very much know how this story will end. We have one more chapter to go! It is still very much a hybrid of the show and the books, with me adding flare as needed to fit the narrative. Anyway, enjoy. 💜     Thank you @theromanticegoist for being my beta reader and offering me a sliver of your insight and talent. Thank you my darling @itbmojojoejo for the gif you took the time to create for me. 💜 Dividers are by @saradika Taglist (Tumblr kindred spirits): @aaaaaamond @annikin-im-panicin @watercolorskyy @schniiipsel @sylas-the-grim @aemondx @fan-goddess @babygirlyofthevale @httpsdoll @assortedseaglass @amiraisgoingthruit @tssf-imagines @triscy @whoknows333 @shesjustanothergeek @greenowlfactif @larlarmojo @babyblue711 @fangirlninja67 @tinykryptonitewerewolf @lauftivy @vintageypanwitch @heimtathurs (bold means I was unable to tag you!)

Chapter 6

Keavy awoke to the morning light streaming through the cloth that was pinned over the window, allowing a muted, dawning glow to fill the room. She wiped the haze from her eyes and realized the intimate tangle of bare limbs beneath the furs; her gaze moved from the nightstand, from the candle that burnt to its wick and its wax spill onto the wood, and drifted to Osferth, who was curled at her side. 

Her slight movement stirred him and he gave a sleepy groan, his arm reaching to wrap around her waist and pulling her against his torso. Soft laughter spilled from her lips with the tickle of his chest hair, his lips soft against her hairline. “Good morning,” she whispered, craning her neck with a phantom kiss to his jawline. 

Osferth hummed, tilting his chin downwards to find her lips. “Good morning, beautiful,” his voice was drowsy and each word punctuated with a gentle kiss. 

She burned from his touch, from his words–no man before had called her beautiful, especially not a Saxon man. “Do not tease me, Osferth,” her breath fanned his cheeks and she saw his dimples peeked with his smile.

“I would never,” and he kissed her again. 

Keavy smiled against the press of his lips, shifting to spread her legs as he moved closer, cradled against her hips; he hummed his pleasure, careful to place his weight on his arms that were propped on both sides, with a slow rhythm of his hips. She sighed as his hardness pressed between her thighs, the genial rub against the flush of her arousal. 

“Osferth,” she gasped, arching against him. “I shall never grow tired of this.”  

“Do not tempt me,” his mouth moved along the column of her neck, placing kisses until he came to the junction of her shoulder and nipping softly; she sighed again, her skin raising in response. “I may never allow you to leave.”

But inevitably they would, the begrudging pull from the sex soaked linen and allowing the cool air to nip at their skin. Keavy poured the chilled water from the ewer into the porcelain basin and they were quick to clean and dress; she fetched a small vial and her pecten to comb through her dark locks.

She palmed the rose oil gifted from Gisela, working it into her curls, which allowed the polished bone to glide through to style. Osferth came up behind her, his hands gentle to touch and his fingers threaded through to finish braiding her hair. “A man of many talents,” she teased him, her cheeks crimson with his gesture. 

“Of course,” his voice low, his attention focused as he knotted the end. “How else do you believe Sihtric manages his hair?” 

Her laughter was lyrical, and he smiled; she reached for his hand, her fingers interlacing with his own, and he pulled her outside. The fallen fresh snow glittered with the sun’s light and their breath was white clouds that rose above them; their hands knitted with a soft swing that synchronized with their slow steps as they made their way towards the great hall. 

The doors groaned open and the attention shifted towards them; it was the Irishman who began his cheer, with the rest following. “It’s about fucking time,” and Finan’s smile was bright against his dark beard, while a rose color dusted their features as they took their seats at the table to join them. 

Winter settled over, which kept the men in Coccham; Keavy did not mind and enjoyed the new comfort with the new routine. She slowly created space for Osferth within her room, enjoying how his scent lingered over the shared space, especially in the furs and blankets from when they curled beneath them, sharing an intimate warmth as they talked about their days.  

Outside of Coccham, the snow billowed high against the walls and isolated the village from the rest of Wessex. The inside thrummed still, with pathways that weaved within, the spirits high from the rich harvest despite the cold. An occasional traveler would wander through, taking a moment by the fire and delivering any letters, one which was addressed to Osferth from Lady Æthelflæd.

That night the great hall was alive with liquored cheer, but her focus remained on Osferth as he stepped away a moment to break the seal. To the untrained eye, it could be considered an eager want to read the letter from his kin, but Keavy saw the brief press of his lips into a thin line and the flicker of worry that knitted between his brows as his eyes flitted over the parchment in hand. 

Keavy did not wish to draw any attention, but waited as the night waned away, when they began to file out into the night to find their beds. She reached for his hand and they returned to the privacy of the room they now shared, which was dark with a slight chill. Once the door was closed and candles lit, she felt Osferth press up against her, a pillar of warmth on her backside; she sighed as his arms wrapped around her waist, his face nuzzling beneath her scarf and the soft press of his lips to her skin. 

“What news did your sister have for you?” Her hand reached back, her fingers combing through his golden locks towards the back of his head.

Osferth hummed and she felt the curl of his lips into a smile. “You read me as well as her words written.” 

She turned in his arms to face him, pressing to her tiptoes for a chaste kiss in response. “With the time I have invested, Osferth, I should hope so,” her brow raised to hint the teasing of her tone. “Do you wish to talk about it?”

He leaned forward, pressing his forehead against her own for a moment, slow breaths to intake her fragrance of lavender and thyme, her hint of rose oil in her tresses. Osferth pulled back, taking her hand and moving to sink into the straw mattress.

Keavy followed him, but remained standing between his legs, quiet and watchful as his long, slender fingers that played with her own, his forehead lined as he struggled to find the words. “My father,” he began but it was said as if there was a bitter taste to his tongue. Osferth swallowed and began again. “The king’s health has been failing.” 

In the last few years, King Alfred had the reputation for being perpetually ill but without actually dying; Lady Æthelflæd wrote her worry that their father’s luck, or perhaps the favor with his God, was finally coming to an end, or so she believed. “I know he will reach out to Uhtred when winter ends,” and he finally met with her eyes, a glassy shine to his brilliant blue. “Perhaps to ask that Uhtred swear his fealty to Edward.” 

She nodded, aware that Æthelflæd was his sister but that Edward was always referred to by his name. “He would never agree to it,” Keavy whispered, one hand coming to touch his jaw. “To swear fealty to a boy would last until the end of his life.” 

Osferth nodded and his lashes fluttered closed, leaning into her touch and releasing the hold of her hand; she moved to touch the other side of his face and he reopened his eyes, looking up at her once again.

Before their intimacy finally bloomed between them, she had first become his confidant and, in return, he was her haven embodied. Right now she saw the solemn severity that lined his features, she saw the uncertainty, the weight of the future of Wessex, a burden not belonging and, at the same time, imbedded into his blood.

Her thumb trailed the sharp edge of his jawline. “Let the king call for Uhtred when the snow melts, he will handle him,” and her tone grew coy, “but right now the snow piles high and we must stay warm to survive.” 

She leaned forward, another chaste kiss to tease his lips, and his hands moved in response, grabbing her waist and pulling her closer. Keavy grabbed fistfuls of her skirt, rutting the fabric up to straddle him, the soft plush of her thighs caging him to the bed. 

His hold moved to cradle her lower back, pulling her against his chest, his head tilting back and pressing his lips to the underside of her jaw. “We must stay warm,” his hot whisper tickled and she tried to pull back with a smile, a giggle, but his grip held and brought her back, capturing her lips with his own. 

Keavy moaned and his clever tongue deepen the kiss, as if he was drawing the very breath from her lungs; she wrapped her arms around his neck, leveraging for a slow grind forward against the hardness that pressed through the crotch of his trousers, pulsating from the pressure of her clothed cunt. 

Osferth groaned into her mouth and the vibration sent a trickling desire down the length of her spine; his tongue tasted her, his dexterous fingers loosening the ribbons that laced her backside. Their clothing fell to the floor, quick with the cold that seeped in, and he pulled her beneath the layers of their bed, a kiss to the inside of her knee and a trail of open mouth kisses that led to her core.

She sighed with the familiarity of his touch, his lips, and the beginning glints of pleasure sparked before her eyes, leading towards the precipice of her release. A warmth coiled in her lower abdomen as his fingers curled within, one after the other, and she moaned with his ministrations that pushed her over the edge, her blossomed release that spread and pressed the very seams of her being. 

Osferth followed through its completion with the sinful squelch of her cunt pulsating around his fingers, almost to that brink of overstimulation, before he withdrew and carefully climbed on top of her. She was breathless and beautifully flushed from her climax, a soft mewl spilled when she felt his length press against, heavy and warm and wanting. 

Keavy combed her fingers through his hair, pulling him close for a kiss and savoring her taste on his tongue, while her thighs wrapped around his slender waist. She sighed sweetly as he molded to her curves, the weight of him and the tickle of his chest hair against her bare skin. 

His arm reached between, lining himself with her entrance; Keavy moaned when he pushed in, his head dipping into the curve of her neck with his own low groan from how her velvet walls clenched in response. Osferth waited a moment, allowing her the time still needed to adjust to his size, and he only moved when she found his mouth with a hungry kiss to urge him. 

The gentle thrusts of his hips began to rekindle the flames licking her bones, the curtails of her prior release still tingling throughout; the crushing closeness, the tickle of his hot breath against her skin and his pace quickened with the flutter of her walls; there is a tandem of their release, the sounds of her sighs and his guttural groan that reverberates through them both. 

Every moment spared would be this entanglement of limbs, curling into one another flushed from their climax and until their breaths were an exchange. Eventually, the snow began to thaw and the spring greenery struggled through the cold mush left behind. The earth warmed still and Osferth’s prediction of a letter from the king did not come until the midsummer months. 

They packed to travel to Wintanceaster as commanded or as asked, depending if you spoke with the Lord or Lady of Coccham. 

Gisela complained with good nature and grace, swollen with the life that grew within her. She sighed her complaints of her size as Uhtred took her hand, careful to guide her steps towards the cart. “It will not be able to hold me,” she smiled with her words.

Uhtred kissed her hand, his other arm wrapping around to lift her inside. “If the wheels split, I will carry you myself,” and his eyes glittered as he teased her, pressing forward to steal another kiss before moving back towards his horse. 

Gisela shook her head, her lips pursed into another smile, and her gaze fell to both Keavy and Osferth, with him helping her to mount her horse. “This will be your fate one day,” she called to them, smiling still and raising one brow. “And I will be the one on horseback!”

Keavy flushed from her words, unable to look at Osferth, unable to stop the curl of her lips into a smile from Gisela’s teasing. 

Their time together in the last few months had been everything she always hoped for, but she could not help the flutter of apprehension that it would never be more. The thought knotted in her chest late at night when Osferth would curl against her backside, the warmth of his palm on her stomach, but she found it was the one thing she could not say outloud to him. 

She confided in the great hall where Hild began to speak scriptures and Gisela waved her off, seated with her swollen ankles propped up. “Away with your Ephesians, Hild. Do not listen to that nun,” she said to Keavy and her dark eyes glittered. “Is he good to you?”

Osferth was and so much more. He showed consideration for her in his every action, something that was without effort and just seemed natural for him: from how he filled his plate to share with her, how he took her hand to lead their steps together, with how his eyes brightened, alert, always aware of their surroundings as if he would do anything to keep her safe. She loved their time together, at the end of the day when he would curl into her, the soft trail of his fingers along the length of her spine and back, or how they would comb through her dark curls with gentle kisses along her hairline. 

She was crimson when she finally answered. “He is very good to me.” 

“Then that is enough,” and her tone clipped with a sense of finality, and Keavy tried her best to tuck the thought away. 

But it still lingered; she was aware of his bloodline, of the royalty that ran through his veins that was stronger than the sins of King Alfred. Keavy assumed the day would come when he would want a wife of his equal, a true Saxon lady of reputation and not some marred, cursed cailín from across the Irish sea.

“Marriage is only a title, a status, an exchange of goods when had,” Gisela argued. “I see how he is with you and it is the actions of a man that speaks of his character.”

This was now the thought that she clung to.

It was then that Finan barked to the caravan prepared, reclaiming her attention, and they made their way towards Wintanceaster.

+ + + +

They had barely arrived when the king called Uhtred away, leaving the rest to settle into the home of the priest and his wife, Thyra; she held the same fierceness as her kin, Uhtred, but had a softer deliverance with it, instilled with the bold blue of her eyes. 

Their home was comfortable with a rich fragrance from the supper prepared over the open flame; the children played amongst themselves, with Sihtric’s son alongside Oswald and Stiorra, and the men made their round trips to the alehouse to refill their cups, their spirits high. They crowded around the table to eat and with the shortage of seats, only then did Osferth pull Keavy into his lap, relishing in the sight of color that tinged her cheeks. 

Uhtred returned, soured with the news they were to sunder tomorrow, heading towards the Burh of Aescengum on his advice that the king sought from him. “Unfortunate this is the one time he listens to you, lord,” Finan teased him, but he could only manage a grim smile in return. 

The following morning, the stables were cluttered as the wives came to bid their farewells, with Keavy among them. Osferth curled his finger beneath her chin and tilted her head back, pressing his lips against her own with his promise, “I will return to you.”

Her smile was forced, but her eyes were bright from the kiss. 

The sun shone overhead and moved behind them as they went eastwards, the city of Wintanceaster shrinking away. A comfortable silence settled over with the ambling gait of their horses, until Uhtred decided to break it. “I believe it is time you take a wife,” he began, his lips curling as if he was aware of something already. “It is time that you got married.” 

There was a low chorus of chuckles from Sihtric and Finan behind them. “I have thought of it,” Osferth admitted. 

This was a thought that reverberated within him, something that rattled his bones whenever he was in proximity of Keavy, something ignited with her touch, with her lilt. It followed him, heavy in the air that surrounded them and it mixed with the sickly sweet scent of sex and sweat above their bed shared; his throat was thick with his want to whisper the words: my sweet wife.

But also was the thought that he was a bastard and the curse bond with it. The holy book of Dueteronomy taught how this curse would follow for ten generations because of his illegitimacy. As a boy, he did not mind it, but as he matured, he now found that it clawed at his heart from the moment he had kissed Keavy. 

Osferth knew then that he loved her, and that perhaps he always had, as it gradually blossomed more over the years. He enjoyed the sharpness of her emerald eyes, how well she fit into his embrace and he would bury his face into her dark curls. Most of all, he admired her strength and her resilience; Keavy had been shy and hesitant to share the cruelty that destiny littered her path on the way to him; the thought that his curse could possibly add more suffering to it pained him, especially when she already survived so much.

Uhtred raised his brow. “Just thought?”

“Usque ad decimam generationem,” the Latin spilled from his lips and he continued, “I could not… my children would be cursed, their children too, and every child for ten generations.” 

Osferth tried to avoid this pending biblical curse that clung overhead, but too often he would be cuntdrunk, with the taste of her lips too enticing and the sinfully sweet clutch of her velvet walls all too consuming. It was only when the post-coital haze wore off that the thought would return: bastard begot bastard, his curse continuing. 

“So every bastard is doomed?”

Osferth hummed, his eyes forward. “I do not see the king taking ownership for his… mistakes.” 

There was another chortle of laughter and Osferth only hummed again. Ahead of them was the low smoldering glow of the ruined village of Alton, the remains of a guarded church coming to view when Uhtred called to him. “Let us ask your God what else can be done.”

But God had seemed to abandon the parish and instead they found a woman of many names: a seer, a witch, the devil reincarnate. Sihtric moaned of the curse that followed with her capture, voicing his concerns until it was palpable and heavy overhead. Only Finan was bold enough to say, “Do not speak of it, it only gives it strength,” and it was left alone, but lingered on the edge of their minds.

The Battle of Farnham, as it would be remembered, was a slaughter of Danes and their victory was sung throughout Wessex, following their return to the city. It was surreal with the echo of bells off of the Roman structures that were still rooted throughout the city, the swarm of the crowd and their cheers for King Alfred and his men, for their victory and safe return. 

Osferth peered through, his eyes sharp for Keavy, or even Gisela, but instead he spotted the nun Hild; he saw how her face was drawn with grief and the nursemaid in her shadow, holding a bundle to her chest. Before he could say a word, Uhtred quickly dismounted and pushed through towards her; Osferth instead swung his leg over, following after Beocca back to his home, relief washing over when he saw Keavy seated inside with Stiorra and Oswald. 

The priest moved to kiss his wife and Keavy pushed to her feet, enveloping in Osferth’s arms; he pulled back to kiss her, finding her cheeks stained with tears that confirmed the news plainly written in Hild’s expression outside. 

Gisela was gone. “I could not save her,” she whispered hoarsely and he pulled her close again, a soft kiss on her hairline. 

With the summer months waning away, the night came with its chill and its sorrow. Osferth took Keavy’s hand and they moved outside the city walls, towards the holy ground where Gisela had been buried; Hild breathed a quick prayer and the men grabbed their shovels, upturning the fresh grave.

Uhtred watched as the flames licked up the sides of the lumber stacked, the poignant smell of death masked by the smoke that curled up into the silver light of the moon. “It is beautiful,” and Hild wet her lips, her voice a reverent whisper amongst the splintered pops of wood. “It is as though she is drifting away from the earth and upwards towards the heavens.” 

The amber glow of the funeral pyre cast its golden dysphoria over him, his cheeks shone with his tears and he wilted with wracking sobs that echoed emptily against the trees. Osferth moved to his side and Finan quickly to the other, a strong hold of their lord, with their whispered words of comfort offered to him. 

“Death is unavoidable, it is a part of life,” he rasped, his palmed gripped Osferth and his glassy eyes locked onto him. “It is inevitable, but love is not and you must always take the moment when it is offered.”  

As their attention returned to the blaze, Osferth dared peer back to see Keavy. She held onto the hand offered by Hild, pale in the moonlight and her features tight with her grief aflare, reflecting her tear streaked cheeks, and he had the intrusive thought. 

She is lovely still. 

Uhtred’s words was something repeated in his mind as they retreated back inside the city, returning to their beds; it was a soft echo still in his mind as he pulled her flush against his chest, something that resonated when he felt the gentle press of her lips to the underside of his jaw, nestling into his embrace. Osferth held her close throughout the night, his fingers tangled in her dark curls and his other hand rested on her hip, the soft expansion with her every breath eventually lulling him to sleep. 

The lamenting lessened in the days that followed. Though the grief remained, there was room for a sense of clarity, for Uhtred to announce they were leaving Wintanceaster at once. Osferth saw how he was haunted with Gisela, how the city now served a reminder of his love that was lost.

He knew this would follow them back to Coccham and he thought back to that summer day years before, when he first came to swear his sword to Uhtred and what he promised, his words–“You may never see Wessex again,”–but still they remained, tethered by the oath to the king. 

Osferth only truly understood his sister’s words when he saw their father at Aescengum; he almost did not recognize the cadaverous man had it not been for his crown, his regalia that hung from his thin frame. The dark force that escorted him from Wintanceaster was now grey in his complexion, with silver streaks in his hair and beard, a brittle man that a strong gust could have swept away. 

He also thought of what else she wrote, how she encouraged him to come to her estate, to come to Mercia; her letters tempted him to go, to take Keavy and to travel North. 

But instead he stayed, now spurred with the unspoken exigency to ready the horses, to leave the city at once, and it was interrupted when Beocca called for Uhtred, stating the king called for him again. They watched him leave before continuing, with an unease that lingered behind. 

Later, Osferth first spotted his return, his grief partnered with a fervor as he called to him, to Finan and Sihtric. The city thrummed, holy ground has been disturbed, and soon the king’s guard arrived, but the men of Coccham were already standing guard, with a palpable choler that solidified their stance. 

In that moment, his sister’s words returned. “We need to get them out,” his voice was low, whispered to Sihtric; Finan continued to needle Steapa and his men, bold as always. The Dane quirked his brow at Osferth. “The children, your wife and son,” he continued, before adding, “and Keavy.”

Sihtric steeled his jaw, a sharp nod to acknowledge his words. “You have a plan, baby monk,” but it was not a question, more a statement. 

Osferth hummed, his eyes locking onto Hild as she pressed through the men, a beacon for peace and her tongue chastising them all. 

“You were goading him,” she hissed to Finan as she moved past him. 

The Irishman raised his brows in response. “I was, Hild. And enjoying it.” 

“So the abbess may enter, but I may not?” Steapa sounded incredulous and Osferth took the moment, a quick nod to Sihtric, before falling behind in her steps. 

Finan squared off, just as bold. “We’re afraid of the abbess.” 

Osferth slipped behind Hild, leaving the nun to have her scathing exchange with the kept witch while he moved towards Keavy. She was seated by the bed, the children tucked away as she ushered soft tones to soothe them. 

He thought back to their days together in Coccham, their rosy-cheek smiles now hallowed with the somber undertone that clung to their small frames. Osferth felt the loss of Gisela, as she was kind to him, but understood that the children felt it tenfold. 

“We need to leave the city,” he murmured low enough for her to hear; Keavy looked to him, her lips parted to ask but his low timbre continued, cutting through the tension of the room. “Lord, we need to get the children and women out of the city.” 

The focus turned towards them. “I cannot have them return to Coccham,” Uhtred began, his tone wry. “That land belongs to the king and I am not in his favor.” 

“I am aware,” and he paused, a look stolen to take in Keavy, his gaze trailing the severity that lined her face and spilled into the scar along her jaw. Osferth then looked back at Uhtred. “We should send them to Saltwic, lord.” From the corner of his vision he saw Keavy stiffen, how her green eyes darkened and pinned him where he stood, but he did not look away from Uhtred. “My sister will never forget what you have done for her and I know she will be the sanctuary needed,” his tongue wet his lips, “I agree with Hild. You should call for Beocca and hear the demands of the king to serve as a distraction.” 

Uhtred nodded, his focus returning to Hild. “I am willing, but in exchange for the safety of our children, for our women,” and she watched him, her eyes flitting back and forth his face. “I worry about getting them out of the city.” 

Osferth now looked to Keavy, but her attention was rapt, her grip tightened on the handle of the seax that hung at her side. “I will protect them, lord,” Keavy stepped forward, a slight tremor to her tone. “I swear it on Lady Gisela.” 

“I will also go with them, Uhtred,” Hild sighed. “I will first tell Beocca that you are ready to listen and then I will see that they are escorted to Saltwic.” 

Uhtred offered a small smile and Hild was gone; Beocca was quick to arrive with the demands of the king, which called for silver and his vow to the aetheling. Uhtred pushed to stand, following Beocca out into the night, pausing to hand his sword, Serpent-Breath, to Finan and his eyes landed onto Osferth. 

“You know what to do.”

Time slipped through their fingers with this newfound urgency, licking their heels to quick their steps to the stables the moment the guard shifted to follow Uhtred and Steapa. The sleepy haze was wiped from the children’s eyes by the hem of Hild’s sleeve, the hushed tears and kisses exchanged between Sihtric and his wife, Sigdeflaed, while Finan saddled the last mare.

Osferth felt the slight tremble of her hold and looked down at Keavy, her eyes watchful, almost doleful. “You will be safe in Saltwic,” he whispered in the shell of her ear as he pulled her close. “This is for the best, this will keep you safe.” 

She pulled back, her brow furrowed with her sharp nod, her breath caught in her throat and she swallowed the threat of tears. “I know this, I understand this is the logical thing to do and yet…” and she took a deep breath, her hands moving to untie her necklace. “Osferth, I want you to take this and for you to bring it back to me.”

He leaned forward and his skin prickled with her touch as she knotted it behind the nape of his neck; the silver cross gleamed in the little light offered. “Return to me, Osferth,” her voice was small.

He pressed closer and captured her lips, her honeyed kiss a balm for his resolve. Osferth moved to help her onto the backside, then he picked up Stiorra who nestled in front–one child for each rider. His hand then fell to touch Keavy’s ankle, sliding up beneath her skirts and he gently squeezed her calf; she looked down at him. “I will return to you,” he promised.

Her response was a pained smile, another quick nod, and she brought her heels against to trot behind Hild and Sigdeflaed. Osferth followed behind until they passed through the gates, and remained until they were silhouettes in the night. 

Finan clasped his hand onto his shoulder and Osferth looked at the Irishman. “We will see them again. Soon, baby monk,” he promised. “Now help with the gate.”  

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