#but ah ! how i love and love and love some more... that's a good thing about me methinks. how full of love for everything/one i am :3

[jesuistrestriste]

this is my request for more patrick. dare i say artrick. dare i say them both totally pliable in your hands. i am terribly greedy and want to see sub!artrick and dom!reader written by you. please and thank

love youuuuu

eee hope this is to your liking annie ♥️ muah muah muah !

cw (18+) : sub!art donaldson, sub!patrick zweig, dom!reader, messy handjobs, desperation, dirty talk, patrick and art work for it

“does this feel good?” you breathe out, your voice almost shaky from the feeling of both sets of lips on your neck.

“mmn—yeah, yeah, i’m s’good,” art slurs into your left side, bucking up into your sticky hand, “can i—more—ah, faster—? aah-!”

patrick bites at your right earlobe and whimpers against your skin. his cock throbs in your right fist, dribbling with fluid from his attentive slit. it looks like melting glass pouring down his sensitive flesh.

“please,” he groans, “touch my tip, please.. oh, fuck, please—“

you chuckle and then suck in a soft breath when the blonde nips needily at your shoulder, lathing over it with his tongue after in apology. sometimes when his body starts to ache with arousal, he has to find an outlet for it—and sometimes that means biting, grabbing, sobbing, the like. patrick’s usually only slightly more restrained. they’re like two sides of the same coin, both constantly vying for attention, only in subtly different ways. it’s a good thing that you’ve trained them to stop bickering when you’re playing with their willing bodies. otherwise, they’d be at each other’s throats a bit right now.

“behave.”

that singular word from your mouth snaps them both back into place like rubber bands. art pants, high-pitched and whiny, while patrick grabs at the front of your body. he palms over your chest and squeezes whatever he can cup.

“i’m sorry,” you hear earnestly from the left side, accompanied by a calloused hand rubbing your inner thigh. you fist the back of his golden curls, which elicits a sharp, guttural cry to spring forth. his length twitches, balls drawn up.

“sorry, ungh, sorry,” comes from the right side, but less earnest and more please, just don’t stop. your other hand rubs at his bouncing leg. his eyes roll back under heavy lids, eclipsing his colorful irises.

“who wants to come?”

art smushes himself into your side and accidentally slides his dick through your returned grip, shuddering, “me, me—i wanna—.. please, it hurts—“

he swallows his mouthful of drool and buries his face into your neck. whines like a newborn puppy. grabs at your bicep.

patrick tugs roughly at the waistband of your bottoms, desperately wanting to slide his hand down and make you feel good. you can practically feel the waves of heat radiating off of his dazed body.

“i’m ready to come for you, feel me,” he takes his other hand and wraps it around your hand that’s holding his length, urging you to squeeze him a bit more and feel how much he needs it, “i’m so close.. so close, s’ close, i feel it coming..”

you slide your hands off of them at the same time. they crumple forward and moan brokenly at nearly the exact same moment, both feeling the swell of their peaks taper off painfully when your curled fingers caress the undersides. they pout and look up to your eyes.

“are you both going to be good for me?”

simultaneous nods follow the question. unsurprising. they share a look between themselves, then back to you.

you place a hand on the back of art’s neck first, then patrick’s. a soft smirk creeping over your lips as you urge them both forward in front of your eyeline.

they seem to get the hint, their gazes immediately fixating on one another. patrick’s the first to move, reaching his touch from your body to cup art’s ruddy cheek. the blonde leans into the touch like its some sort of lifeline, pleading for any point of contact he can get. he dives in and smushes his lips to the brunette’s, licking at his bottom one to beg for entry. pat obliges.

while you watch them begin to sync up, all broken sounds and lewd smacking and furrowed brows, you spit into your palms and bring them back down to begin pumping them. watching them kiss is like watching them play tennis: they know exactly what to do. it’s almost like they’re doing a dance.

art’s eyes flutter open and roll back, patrick’s squeezing shut tighter. their jaws slack and they lick into each other’s open mouths, gulping each other’s cries down greedily—like they’re consuming one another’s pleasure in the midst of their own. you feel a blurt of warm lubricant seep between your fingers from art’s cock, and a thrum of heat runs through your spine at the realization. he’s always been one to enjoy making-out. thoroughly, actually. he can finish just from it alone. patrick needs a bit more stimulation.

so, expectantly, the brunette chokes on a soft sob against his opposite’s bottom lip and drags his tongue over it. “more,” he murmurs, “aangh, jus’ a bit more—“

you stroke them both faster and they nearly break. pat bites down hard on art’s lip and art yelps, his hips bouncing with your touch.

“gentle, patrick, gentle,” you remind him, thumbing the ridge of his cockhead, the area pulsing and hot to the touch.

art sniffles, kissing his tennis partner deeper despite the sting from the clamp of his teeth. their hands are all over each other now. clawing at forearms and snagging handfuls of hair and gripping over shoulders. it’s a mess.

suddenly, patrick breaks the kiss and whimpers against art’s jaw—low and stuttered. art tries to kiss him again, too lost in the feeling to realize he’s stopped, but misses his lips and mouths at his cheek instead.

“i’m too close,” the brunette shudders, “please, can i come yet? i can’t hold it anymore, it’s gonna come out, gonna come,” he murmurs urgently.

“art, are you ready too?”

he nods, licking over the sweat on pat’s skin depravedly. he kisses him again, finding his lips. “mhmmmn—!”

you slide your hands up to begin rapidly jerking their tips, using their oozing evidence of arousal to work them up to their frayed ends. art squeezes patrick’s arm, mouth open and letting out little sounds that rise in pitch—higher, higher, higher—almost there. patrick tries in vain to fuck into your touch, his pelvis stuttering, his fluids leaking over his happy-trail.

“are you boys going to come now?”

art mewls sharply, patrick swallows thickly around a throaty sob. any more teasing, and you’d never hear the end of it. it’d be cruel, really.. and they’ve been good enough.

you press your thumbs to their tacky frenulums. rubbing quick, successive circles there. just how they like it—just what they need.

“.. let it all go.. show me how obscene and filthy you both look when you break..”

and they do.

they shatter.

their visions white out dizzily as the stimulation reaches the point of no-return; their mouths opening and bodies convulsing in ways that are nothing short of pornographic.

“oh, fuuuck—!” patrick gushes, ropes pouring from him in heavy waves, the paralyzing jabs of pleasure rendering him useless and twitchy as he orgasms. the thick, clotted load spills copiously.

a string of clinging spit bridges their lips as art leans back to pant raggedly. he looks down and watches as his own climax floods the gaps between your fingers and bubbles frothily as your movements refuse to relent. he uses his free hand to grab your wrist, thrusting reflexively as he hiccups and nearly squeals from the overstimulation. “ow—hmmngh—coming, coming, so much—“

you touch both of them until tears spring to the corners of their eyes, threatening to spill down their cheeks as they writhe and squirm in their seats. you suck your inner cheek between your teeth and bite down to resist the desire to torture their parts until they’re too fucked-out to form a thought. you’ve done it before, and it backfired when they weren’t able to stand up afterwards. all limp and shaky. maybe another time.

you slow your movements and slide your fists off of their shafts with a wet squelch, both of them curling inward from the oversensitivity.

“good job,” you croon, “didn’t realize you both were so pent up.. look at my hands..”

you hold up your messy palms to show them what they did. they look up with vacant stares, still breathing heavy and lost in the aftershocks.

“what do you say, hmm? you know what i need to hear.”

art lolls his head to rest on your shoulder and moans lowly, chest rumbling. patrick leans forward to sigh against your neck.

“thank you,” you hear on your left, “thank you so much,” follows on your right.

you smile.

“you’re welcome.”

[waynes-multiverse]

Oh God, I loved this! I was rolling on the floor and cackling like a maniac throughout most of this 😂😂😂

🥧 Dean:

Ah yes, classic man with his "I'm fine." He'd probably still say, halfway through bleeding to death 😂

"You're not fine," you testily reply. "You're not even 'Winchester fine.' You wanna know how I know? I'm driving the damn car right now!"

Hahaha such a good point! Hard to argue with that 😆

That's because he's more of a "pour some whiskey on it," patch it up, and forget about it kinda guy.

Yup, and have Sam stich you up with tooth floss, right, big boy? 😂

You detail his history and current symptoms to the best of your ability, and you make sure to jot down certain visits to free clinics in his past that he'd probably gloss over.

While she's filling out his form, I had Ross and Joey in my head, too 😂

The doctor informs Dean that he likely has a kidney stone.

Come on, I had to...

But underneath the embarrassment, the shit, I'm getting old bit cropping back up again, and the Dean Winchester quirk of not wanting to be fussed over, not wanting to be seen as weak or ridiculous — what finally surfaces past all that is you.

Awww, yeah ❤️‍🩹 But that's such a good point! Since Dean survived the finale and nothing ever happened in that barn, he has to face his mortality in a way. The "Fuck, what happens when I'm old and wrinkly" phase 😅

The ending was so wholesome! And I imagined the reader from Midnight Espresso. She was so warm, caring, stubborn, and sassy, too. Totally gave me the same vibes! 😭💜

Beau:

Oh, Beau... Not the prostate exam 😂🫶 Btw, I loved how you switched up the different doctors for each of them! The kind of doctor fit their personalities so well too and made it even funnier 🤣

"You know what, my throat still feels weird on the left side, especially when I swallow. Feels scratchy and, uh, kinda hurts. You think I should get it looked at? What if it's laryngitis, or pneumonia, or God forbid, throat cancer. I mean, throat cancer, honey! That's nothin' to laugh at."

Aaaah, I love that you incorporated this!!! Totally sounds like something he'd do too. Probably Jenny, Denise, and Cassie heard the same thing. He went on about it for days lmao

But when it comes to one exam in particular, he's your typical male of a certain age.

Ugh, so true... Been trying to get my husband to go to one (and also been trying to get him to have a weird mole checked out for ten years. The argument: it hasn't changed in all that time, so it's probably fine 🙈😂)

"You're just teasin' the cave. You're not looking for coal."

Dead 💀🤣🤣🤣 (And on a side note: that aspect should be more featured in fics lol)

"All right, fine. I'll go," he says. "But I don't want to hear a damn peep out of you when I get back."

Oh, I'd make so many jokes when he comes back. Probably buy him donuts and other hole-shaped treats 😆

Soldier Boy:

Fuck, Alex... Ben fucking killed me! The fact that you picked a therapist was just hilariously delicious 😂

"I'm fucking crazy, is that it? That what you're trying to say?" His voice raises, notch after notch. "I don't need a goddamn shrink!"

Oh, of course his argument is the "Only crazy people see shrinks." Classic (like him) lol

It's hard not to match his volume, but you manage to stand your ground while he huffs and puffs and eventually storms out.

So true! I imagine it's hard staying level-headed with this man-child when he throws a tantrum. You almost have to talk louder to get through all of his white noise 🙈

He volleys back with empty words. "Fine, fucking leave."

*sighs* Benjamin! 🙄 But completely agree. He'd do and say all of these things – as frustrating as that is lol

"It's different now. You know that, right?" you say quietly. "If we're going to do this, you and me together, then I need you to protect us. Protect us from you."

That broke my heart a little, although it's so true 😭❤️‍🩹

("What kind of quack fucking doctor goes by his first name, anyway? Christ.")

Pffff 😂 Reminds me a little of that Rick & Morty episode where Rick refuses to go to therapy. I already feel bad for that psychiatrist 😆

He has a willing (heavily paid) audience for all of his stories from "the good old days." Every gushy detail.

Like I said – I feel bad for that poor doctor, but oh my God, he so would! He found a sounding board for all his stories 😂

Russell:

And of course Russell, much like Dean, is too "tough" for a doctor. A bullet wound you say? Nah, totally heals itself lol

"Hey, baby," he greets you tiredly, even tries to kiss you, but you're too busy running gentle hands over his arms and chest. Searching."Hmm, someone's missed me. Miss Handsy-yy-ahhh..." His playful quip dies the moment you find it.

Hahaha I fucking knew she was checking him for injuries! Would've done the same thing 😂🫶 (Also, Russell, what did you expect? Sex? In this condition????)

"Ehh, yeah, but no biggie. I've got some tools in the car—"

You need a hospital not a hardware store, you big idiot!!! God 😂🙈

Only now does he begin to realize just how fucking unfair that is.

Yes, honestly, please quit. I wouldn't be able to sleep dating that man. What if he never comes homes from a job? 😢😭💔

And I'm really curious what her punishment would've been. I'd make him eat veggies only for a month. That would break him 😂😜

These were all so wonderful and so effing funny, friend! You nail these HC every time!!! ☺️💜

HEADCANON: Doctor's Appointment

HC: How would Dean Winchester, Beau Arlen, Soldier Boy (Ben), and Russell Shaw react when you try to take him to the doctor?

Pairings: Dean x Reader || Beau x Reader || Soldier Boy x Reader || Russell x Reader

AN: This one is a request from my lovely friend @spnbabe67 over on Patreon! 💜

Tags/Warnings: Established relationship, literal man children, medical stuff, angst, mentions of PTSD, hints of spice, fluffff

Dean Winchester

"I'm fine."

Ah yes, the same two growly words you've heard for an hour already.

"You're not fine," you testily reply. "You're not even 'Winchester fine.' You wanna know how I know? I'm driving the damn car right now!"

Dean shoots you a warning look.

One, you can tell he wants to say watch it on how you talk about his Baby.

Two, he doesn't want to admit that you're right.

He shifts in his seat with his arms crossed, trying to cover up a wince. It's the only tell that he's uncomfortable, even in pain, other than the fact that you've managed to hijack his car and take him to this damn doctor's appointment.

Dean can count on one hand the number of times he's been in a doctor's office for a genuine ailment, and not just trying to fish for information while impersonating some form of law enforcement.

That's because he's more of a "pour some whiskey on it," patch it up, and forget about it kinda guy.

And if we're talking about hospital stays, then that's usually a "one step away from death's door" kind of visit.

But when you first noticed something was off with Dean (confirming with Sam on the side of your suspicions), you did your damnedest to convince the man that he should see a doctor.

You even make the appointment for him as convenient as possible, around midday, so he doesn't have the excuse of it being too early to disturb his morning, or too late to mess up his afternoon.

Dean is a grumbly grizzly bear who only rolls his eyes in the waiting room when you offer him the clipboard to fill out his medical history.

"This is stupid," he says. "It’s probably just gonna clear up in a week or so anyway."

"You don't know that," you say. And you heave a sigh. Sometimes this man requires every last ounce of your ever-thinning patience.

You reclaim the clipboard and do this part for him too, filling out his fake-ass insurance information with his fake-ass name.

You detail his history and current symptoms to the best of your ability, and you make sure to jot down certain visits to free clinics in his past that he'd probably gloss over.

When the nurse opens the door and calls him back to see the doctor, Dean still glances over at you, mostly annoyed. But underneath, you sense his hesitation.

You slip your hand into his and get up with him. You grace a kiss over his knuckles — a moment of solidarity — and you go with him to one of the back rooms.

You later have to bite your lip against the vindicated urge to say I told you so.

The doctor informs Dean that he likely has a kidney stone.

If possible, Dean is even more sour the whole car ride home. He's convinced all the vegetables you've been trying to get him to eat are the culprit.

"This is what I get for eating fucking rabbit food," he grumbles. He levies a finger at you. "See? I told you. Nothing good comes of it."

"Right," you snort. "Zucchini is what's got you're, uh, pipe all blocked up."

But seeing the disgruntled look on his face, you remember just how much pain he's been trying to cover up for the past week. How many times you've found him hunched in the bathroom, dreading a piss.

You reach over and try to soothe him, gently stroking his thigh.

"It's okay, baby. We'll get the official test results soon. In the meantime, just keep drinking lots of water and get some actual rest."

"Whatever," he mutters.

But underneath the embarrassment, the shit, I'm getting old bit cropping back up again, and the Dean Winchester quirk of not wanting to be fussed over, not wanting to be seen as weak or ridiculous — what finally surfaces past all that is you.

Specifically, how much you push him to take care of himself.

Besides Sam, you're the only one who manages to keep him in check, the only one who cares that much, that you'd literally try to steal his car.

Yeah, I love you tends to cut through pretty much all the other bullshit.

Dean might not always express it words, but he does it now, taking your hand off his lap and pressing a kiss to your wrist, right over your pulse point.

You briefly take your eyes off the road to glance over at him, smiling. He's going to be out of commission for a while until this little problem clears up, in more ways than one.

The great Dean Winchester.

Beats Death itself, too many times to count.

Felled by pebble in his...well...proverbial shoe.

You try to hide your amusement, if not your affection. You bite your lip hard.

"Shut up," he warns, even though his lips twitch upward.

Your snort of laughter escapes before you can reign it in.

Beau Arlen

Beau is resistant at first, but he's probably the easiest to wrangle into seeing the doctor, whether it's yearly checkups or a man flu gotten out of control.

("You know what, my throat still feels weird on the left side, especially when I swallow. Feels scratchy and, uh, kinda hurts. You think I should get it looked at? What if it's laryngitis, or pneumonia, or God forbid, throat cancer. I mean, throat cancer, honey! That's nothin' to laugh at.")

You wish he'd have that "proactive" mentality with other areas of his health too, like not overworking himself at the precinct.

But when it comes to one exam in particular, he's your typical male of a certain age.

No matter how many times you remind him and write down the appointment on the calendar stuck to the fridge so he doesn't forget, he conjures some excuse for why he couldn't make it.

At first it's begrudgingly amusing, but by the third time, you're concerned, and even annoyed that he isn't taking his health more seriously.

"Look, I know it's not exactly pleasant, but this stuff is important. You gotta take care of yourself," you say.

You know you don't have to remind him that he has a daughter, but you will pull that card if you have to.

"Yeah, I know. It's just, uh..." Beau trails off, hands on his hips. He doesn't know what to tell you to make you understand how much he'd rather not go to this appointment.

"It's just a prostate exam, babe. I'll bet it's not half as invasive as a pap smear," you say wryly.

Beau shakes his head at you. "That very well may be, but believe you me, no man wants a latex finger up his..."

You raise your brows and tilt your head with a smile. "Well, you know. Some guys actually—"

Beau waves a hand at whatever you were going to say next.

"You know what, forget I said anything. I'd rather just live my life not knowing what's down there. Really, I'm good."

You utter a laugh, but you sidle up to him and grasp the open edges of his jacket. You turn your face up to him with a more sensuous smile.

"You don't mind when I do it," you tease.

Beau actually blushes. His cheeks and the tips of his ears tinge pink.

He clears his throat, his hands settling on the curve of your waist.

"Well, that's different," he says. His voice pitches lower, his green eyes taking on a slight mischievous gleam. "You're just teasin' the cave. You're not looking for coal."

Laughter bursts out of you like a gut punch. Your forehead falls against his chest as your entire body shakes with giggles.

Beau wraps you up in his arms. He tries and fails to temper his grin, even though his cheeks are still burning.

"All right, fine. I'll go," he says. "But I don't want to hear a damn peep out of you when I get back."

Soldier Boy (Ben)

(Oh, good fucking luck on this one.)

Ben rarely, if ever, gets sick. Of course, he's also nearly invulnerable.

However, you've been trying to get him to see a different kind of medical professional.

"Excuse me?" he growls. The first time you suggest it, he dismissed the idea with a roll of his eyes, thinking you were just trying to get a rise out of him. He doesn't appreciate you bringing it up again. "You better be fucking kidding."

"Ben..." You try to ply him with a gentle hand on his arm, but he shrugs you off, too irritated to curb the impulse.

"I'm fucking crazy, is that it? That what you're trying to say?" His voice raises, notch after notch. "I don't need a goddamn shrink!"

"I didn't say you were crazy!" you say. It's hard not to match his volume, but you manage to stand your ground while he huffs and puffs and eventually storms out.

You get discouraged and frustrated yourself, but you cling to every scrap of patience you can muster up for this man.

It's gonna take a few tries.

You start to suggest that maybe he should start easing up on the weed and the booze too.

Any time he snaps at you, you remind him that for as much shit as you've put up with him so far, this is the kind of shit that'll send you packing. Leaving his ass. For good.

He volleys back with empty words. "Fine, fucking leave."

You know they're empty, because every time you've called his bluff and packed a bag, he stops you.

"All right, enough. You've proved your fucking point."

After that, he tries to cut back on the booze, at least. He watches you pour out the Grey Goose and the Patrón.

Fucking fine by him. He's lost the taste for vodka, let alone that frilly French shit, and the cheap tequila.

But choking off the vein of one vice just makes another twice as strong.

Ultimately, it doesn't fix the problem either.

There's the time Ben blows a hole in the roof of your house (after a nightmare, he refuses to admit).

And there's a second time too. A third close call, and Ben pushes you clean off the bed so you won't get hurt.

If that didn't do it, he finally gets the picture after the second pink line appears on that white stick.

It now lies on your nightstand while you and Ben lay tangled together, bare skin against bare, flushed, sweaty skin.

A celebration, if you will.

His big hand lies splayed over your belly, protective, possessive, and deep down...grateful.

You glance up at the patched ceiling. Ben follows your gaze. His contentment fades into a frown, just like yours.

Both of you are thinking the same thing, if in different flavors of concern. Anxiety. (Guilt.)

"It's different now. You know that, right?" you say quietly. "If we're going to do this, you and me together, then I need you to protect us. Protect us from you."

At this point, you know he won't see a psychiatrist for his PTSD; not if it's to help himself (God forbid he admit that he needs it).

But if it's to protect you and your child, his own child...

Ben swallows a few acidic ounces of his pride.

Despite every cell in body that fights against it, he gets in his car the very next day and shows up for the appointment you made for him with Dr. David.

("What kind of quack fucking doctor goes by his first name, anyway? Christ.")

After the first couple of painfully awkward sessions, it's not so bad, Ben discovers.

He has a willing (heavily paid) audience for all of his stories from "the good old days."

Every gushy detail.

Russell Shaw

Russell is always quick to give reassurances, to downplay, to tell you that he's good.

But the day he comes home from a job with his bag hanging from his fingertips, almost dragging on the floor, his movements stiff as a rail — your heart sinks into your stomach.

"Hey, baby," he greets you tiredly, even tries to kiss you, but you're too busy running gentle hands over his arms and chest. Searching.

"Hmm, someone's missed me. Miss Handsy-yy-ahhh..." His playful quip dies the moment you find it.

Under his jacket lies the shoddy patch job on the bullet wound in his arm, located a few inches below the shoulder, just barely hidden by his sleeve.

"What the fuck is this?" you snap, half in anger, half in worry as tears spring hot in your eyes.

Russell immediately goes into damage control, soothing a hand down your arm and meeting your gaze.

"Hey, I'm okay. It's just a graze."

"Yeah fucking right. You're still bleeding!"

"Ehh, yeah, but no biggie. I've got some tools in the car—"

"No! We're going to the hospital."

"Sweetheart—"

"Right now! Let's go."

The man doesn't have the heart to argue with you too much after that. He knows he should've taken proper care of this before he got home. He really just wanted to, well, get home. To you.

But he regrets scaring you. He regrets making you worry.

He brushes the tears from your eyes and is grateful you don't ask what happened. He can't really tell you, even if he wanted to. His contract work with Horizon keeps his lips sealed for your safety, above all other reasons.

Only now does he begin to realize just how fucking unfair that is.

It really hits him when you sit with him for an hour and a half in the Emergency Department, waiting after the guy who fell off his moped, a kid with a little green army man stuck up his nose ("Hey, retro," Russell whispers to you), and a lady who can't seem to stop hiccuping.

Russell takes in a deep breath. He leans over to your ear.

"You know, we could just fix this up at home. A little needle and thread and some alcohol. Perfect First Aid kit," he says.

You narrow your gaze at him. "We're waiting to see a doctor. And don't think I'm done with you. When we get home, prepare to get punished."

A little smirk tugs at his lips. He brushes said lips across the back of your ear. "What am I, a little kid?"

You smile slightly as well.

"Well, if you're not going to tell me when you're hurt and try to cover it up like a little kid, that's how I'm gonna treat you."

Russell chuckles. His hand slips over your thigh.

"Gotta say, I'm kind of liking the sound of punishment. What'd you have in mind, sweetheart? Gonna spank me?"

And he's willing to give you more ideas.

You roll your eyes. Despite wanting to remain strong, his touch, the sensation of his lips brushing your ear sends a shiver curling down your spine.

"Oh, you just wait."

AN: lol I always have so much fun writing these. Let me know which one was your favorite this time! 💕

@waynes-multiverse You gave me another perfect little tidbit for Beau on Man Flu that made it into this one. 😂

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Dean, Beau, Soldier Boy + Russell Tag List (Part 1)

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@mrlonelycat @deans-daydream @leigh70 @aylacavebear @kmc1989

@siampie @rubyvhs @winchestergirl2 @winchester-whiskey

[fallen-w1ngs]

'' flower shop of new feelings ,,

[ 05 : run ]

|| pairing : james "bucky" barnes x florist!reader

|| warning : nothing ! jealous bucky makes a brief entrance 🔥

|| wc : 2.1k

|| btw, if any of ya'll wanna be apart of the taglist, js comment :3 or dm idc <3

The Avengers Tower’s atmosphere was awkward. Like, a weird tense awkwardness. Clint, Wanda, Sam and Bruce got back from their mission which.. Did not go according to plan, and were already bummed out with that, despite there being a backup plan. Tony had a fight with Pepper, yet again, which let’s be real, no one’s surprised about. And last but certainly not least, Peter had seen Bucky leave your apartment the previous night.

I would love to say that Bucky did a graceful job at covering for himself and explaining it.. But that’d be a lie. The second Peter uttered the words “Mr. Barnes?” Bucky ignored him and sped walk outta there. But being an Avenger, and having Peter practically live in the Tower made it virtually impossible NOT to run into him at least once.

“It’s not that big a deal, James, I promise.” You said, your phone pressed against your ear and shoulder. Currently, you were out checking on your shop and running a few errands. That’s when Bucky called and told you the whole ordeal after you shut the door. “I really don’t see how it’s such a big deal. Just explain to Peter that we’re friends.”

But I don’t want to. He thought, I want you as my secret. As strange as it is, you were one of the only things he felt he had that wasn’t poisoned by Hydra or the Avengers. He loved the Avengers (.. sorta) but he needed to have something that was his.

“Yeah, okay. Okay. Just- the team can be.. Unbearable with gossip.” He groaned and ran a hand through his hair. “Sorry for calling you ‘bout this”

“Hey, no, I get that. You don’t gotta explain why you freaked out about Peter,” Your voice was full of understanding. Oh, god, Bucky absolutely loves- no. No, no no. “Oh, and never apologize for talking to me, I love talking to you”

“Oh,” He felt his cheeks warm up. “I like talking to you too.”

A small laugh could be heard from your end of the line, god, he could melt with how warm your laugh was.

“Hey, I gotta head off, I’m meeting up with my brother and his wife for a small get together, but I’ll talk to you later, ‘kay?”

“Your brother?”

“Yeah, I thought I told you ‘bout him! His name’s Silas? He’s a pretentious fuck. Love him to bits, but I don’t like him, y’know?” This made Bucky let out a small chuckle. He had remembered a past conversation of yours where you rambled on about how your older brother was the golden child in your family.

“Good luck with him, [Name]”

“Thanks, James, I’ll call you later”

“Bye” He tried to hide his disappointment in his voice before hanging up. Man, what were you doing to him? He’s a lone wolf, never likes anyone, always grumpy, and rarely smiles. But with you? Seemed like he was the jolliest guy on Earth.

Ah, but he can sort out his feelings later. Right now he needed to talk with a certain Peter Parker.

–

“D-Did you need something, Mr. Barnes?”

Bucky was quick to find the spiderling, he was up in the lab with Bruce. Tinkering away at some sort of more protective type of suit, trying to replicate vibranium without using vibranium. He made up some bullshit excuse for why he needed to talk with Peter, even if Bruce knew it was a lie, he didn’t fight it.

“What you saw last night–”

“You leaving [Name]’s apartment last night?”

Bucky’s eyebrow twitched, god the way he said it felt like he was caught in an affair. “Yes. That. It was nothing.”

“With all due respect, Mr. Barnes, but if it was nothing, why’d you run away?”

“I didn’t run away,” He crossed his arms over his chest and glared at the teenager. “It was.. A strategic retreat.”

Peter deadpanned. “Mr. Barnes, I don’t care if you’re dating-”

“We’re not dating.”

“Oh.” Peter sighed and snapped his fingers. “I owe Aunt May 20 bucks now.”

“Maybe you deserve it.” Bucky sighed and tapped his finger against his arm. “Look, just.. Don’t tell anyone I’m friends with [Name].”

Now.. This is where Bucky lost Peter. Why? What?? It was a strange request. A doable one! But a real strange one. “W.. Why?”

“Because Sam’ll bring it up non-stop and I’ll get teased.” It wasn't a lie, but again, not the full reason he wanted to hide you away from the team.

Peter’s puzzled look turned into a more sinister one. “I won’t tell anyone.. But I want you to give me 20 bucks every week I gotta keep your secret”

“Wha- fine. Yeah sure.” Wasn’t like Bucky had anything to spend it on. “If you tell anyone, I’m ripping your arms off.” He said with a small glare before turning away and walking off.

“.. Arms plural? Wait! Mr. Barnes! Arms plural??”

–

With that small confrontation over, Bucky was able to rest easy. Sure, he’d lose a couple of bucks, but really it was Tony who was throwing his money around. I mean, let’s think about it. So many people live in one tower, with electricity running practically everything. The electricity, water and heating bill must be skyrocketed. Ah, but that wasn’t our dear Bucky’s problem.

No, Bucky had to sort through his feelings and try to label your friendship. So he did the one thing that allowed him to feel.. Better, run.

Leaving the Tower was easy enough, being the “Winter Soldier” made it so everyone was automatically scared of him. Slipping away was easy, what was a problem was where he wanted to run. He let his legs take him.

The wind in his hair, the small burn in his legs as he ran farther and farther. His heart rate beating every time he was able to run longer and faster due since there weren’t many people around or stops. Bucky loved to run. He would run all day if he could, it felt like freedom to him. Something he wouldn’t let anyone take from him.

Bucky ran around a few blocks multiple times, by the end of it his face was damp, but not as sweaty as the normal person would be. Again, Super Soldier. Barely got tired. But, he still wanted to get something to hydrate himself. He sped walked over to that one Cafe that was across from your shop, your friend Finn ran it? At least, that’s what you told him. Maybe he could visit you af–

“James?”

Or now. It seemed you were taking your lunch break or something, ‘cause you were standing at the counter. Leaning against the solid surface, talking with Finn. And for some reason, that made a pit form in Bucky’s stomach. But, like many things, he ignored it and walked over to you, giving a small wave to you and.. Finn.

“Hey man, you want anything?” Finn had a charming smile on his face, he seemed.. Boyish. Certainly younger than Bucky, I mean, he looked like he was in his mid-twenties, younger than you.

“Black coffee.”

You snorted and tilted your head up at him. “No cream or sugar? Pegged you for a sweet guy”

The corners of Bucky’s lips perked up for a moment and he just huffed. “Got used to it.” He did, as a young adult and the war happening, everyone had to ration. That meant when he had coffee, it had to be black. None of the fancy sweeteners.

“Boring,” You hit your hip against his in a playful manner.

In a matter of seconds, Finn came back with Bucky’s drink. Some shitty ass black coffee that was overpriced. Ah, love New York. Though, it was fine. What wasn’t fine was how Finn just kept smiling and practically flirting with you.

“We should definitely go together, it’d be really fun, hell I could pay for your ticket too.”

“Finn, you shouldn’t, I’d be able to!” You giggled behind your palm. “But, I’m not opposed to that”

“We could get dinner, hangout beforehand too?”

Smooth. “I’ll definitely think about it, Finn”

Stealing a quick glance at Bucky, you realized his confusion. “Ah, me and Finn were talking about watching a musical together!”

“Which one?”

“The Guy Who Didn’t Like Musicals!”

“That’s a thing?”

“It’s definitely a thing.” You crossed your arms with a wide smile. “It’s really good! I should show it to you, there’s a recorded version of it up on Youtube.”

He hummed in reply and gave a lazy shrug. “You’ll have to send me a link to it.”

With a small check of your watch you took in a sharp inhale. “Shit, sorry guys, my breaks almost over, Bye Finn! Bye James!”

“I’ll walk you t’your shop.”

Now this you wouldn’t pass up on. You turned back and gave a small wave to Finn as you and James walked out. The second you felt a wave of fresh air roll on you, Bucky put his arm around your shoulder. A small smile tugged on your face as our eyebrow raised. “What’cha thinkin, big guy?”

“.. There’s a lotta cars.” He muttered. The both of you were standing side by side, he was walking on the outer edge of the sidewalk while you walked on the inner. Something you didn’t even realize.

“Such a gentleman, ey, James?”

He glanced over to you, a small smile tugging at his lips as he held you close. You didn’t mind it, didn’t mind that he was warm, didn’t mind when his grip on you tightened when crossing the street, didn’t mind the momentary lingering he had before pulling away from you when you got to the shop.

“Thanks for walking me!” You pushed open the door and grabbed your apron as Bucky stood in the doorframe. He wanted to stay longer, but he didn’t want to distract you as you worked.

He nodded to your thanks and looked around the shop. It still smelled like a garden, everything still felt humid. Everything was still the same. The flowers were in neat rows but they still perfectly transitioned into one another, the small rotating seed holder was still fully stocked. You talked about how people would grab the seeds and buy them, bunches at a time, but you never let it look like that. Always wanted it to be full, just in case.

“On the house.” Shit, he didn’t even realize you were behind him. What great assassin skills guys, real good. You had a hydrangea in your hand. “It’s blue, like your eyes.”

A few beats of silence settled between you two. Bucky just stared at you as your face got increasingly hot.

“T-That was stupid! I dunno why I did that, uh- it’s just what I like to do with friends, give ‘em flowers on the house I-” He cut you off by taking the flower from your hand, all gently and he quietly examined it.

“It’s real pretty.” He muttered and held it close to his chest. “Thanks, [Name].”

“You’re welcome! I-”

Again, you were cut off, not by Bucky, but by his phone. He muttered a small curse and a “sorry” before walking a few feet away. As much as you’d love not to eavesdrop.. IT WAS SO EASY. Not like you had much to work with.

“Mhm… No, I’m out right now,went on a run.. No, I didn’t see Sam… You can tell him to suck it up. I’m not–” He groaned and stayed quiet as the other person on the line kept speaking. “I’m not- just ‘cause they screwed up shouldn’t mean-.. Ugh. Fine, you’re the captain, punk.. Yeah yeah, I’ll be back soon.”

With that he hung up the phone, glaring at it as if it just cursed everyone in his family line.

“Sorry for that, doll, it was work. Turns out next time Sam and the idiots go out, I have to go with them ‘cause they can’t do shit.” He ran a hand through his hair and took a deep breath, calming himself before he spoke up again. “I gotta go, but I’ll text you.”

“Goodluck with uh, Sam and the idiots.” It wasn’t funny, Bucky was genuinely ticked off, but you couldn’t help but giggle. Thankfully, that seemed to ease some of his tension. His shoulders dropped as he walked over to the door, shooting a small wave to you before leaving.

Hydrangea still in hand.. It was pretty. Like you.

|| the title of this chapter makes this part seem real scary 😭😭 its not, its cutsie. also, i wanted to just show small bits of jealous bucky cz i love jealous bucky. jealous bucky WILL be getting a full part of his own later down the line.

taglist : @iyskgd , @highhopes1008

[halfway-happyyy]

frank looking out for s/o who works at a diner, even though frank can't blame how pretty she looks in that cute waitress outfit and lace aprin but whenever a guy tries to be a creep around her, he saves her but not cause a scene cuz he doesn't want s/o to lose her job but as soon as that guy gets out of that diner, frank as his own way to tarch this guy a lesson.

I kind of love the idea of this, so allow me to run with it a bit.

warnings: mentions of blood, frank tunes a guy UP

frank had stumbled upon the diner by total fluke one morning. the rain that had begun as a drizzle when he first left his apartment had morphed into a full-on downpour, and the mere thought of a fresh cup of hot coffee was too enticing to pass up. so, soaked to the bone and in dire need of a caffeine boost, he stepped into the unassuming hideout.

he hadn't expected the place to be as soothing as it was, but for some inexplicable reason, he felt entirely at home tucked away in the cracked leather booth in the far corner. the mouth-watering scent of frying butter and freshly ground coffee beans permeated the entire establishment and helped to cement the notion that he was exactly where he was supposed to be.

small black and white tiles decorated the floor, and a myriad of vinyl records from the 50s and 60s took up space up on the wood-paneled walls. it reminded him of the spot in jersey that his old man used to take him to after his baseball games; the unexpected familiarity of it all causing a lump of emotion to swell in the hollow of his throat.

"goodness, you look cold..." her voice startled him from his reverie as she reached for his cup. "this'll do wonders for you, fresh from about five minutes ago."

frank swallowed hard and nodded his head. "thank you, ma'am."

she turned to leave, but hesitated. "I can take your coat for you, if you want... sling it over a vent in the back?"

frank was surprised at how much her offer touched him. eventually, he shook his head.

"ah, i'll be alright. thank you, though."

she seemed unconvinced but offered him a small smile regardless.

"alright, well you're welcome to stay as long as you need. i'll be sure to come around again before your cup runs empty."

"thank you, ma'am."

while he tried in vain to focus on the novel he was halfway through reading, he couldn't help but be a bit enamored with her. she moved around the place with a grace that only came from doing the same job for a long time; greeting everyone with a genuine zeal. while it was out of the realm of normality for him entirely, he could not help but be charmed by her. and true to her word, she never once let his cup run low.

when she brought him the bill, she subtly set a small to-go box beside it.

"I couldn't help noticing that you didn't order anything to eat, and in the interest of wanting to keep my customers happy, and returning, I insist that you take a slice of honey crisp apple pie home with you."

at a loss for what to say, frank simply nodded. "yes ma'am. thank you."

"I do hope to see you again, soon."

he couldn't think of a single thing that might hinder him from returning, so he simply cleared his throat and said, "I'll be back."

He made a habit out of spending most mornings in his booth. He could blame it on being annoyingly routine-driven, but deep down, he knew it was more than that. There was something about her that kept him coming back. He'd spent most of his life (after maria and the kids) denying himself of any semblance of goodness, so he figured he would let himself off the hook a bit with her.

"good morning, frank."

that damn voice - like warm honey.

"mornin', ma'am."

her frown was unmistakable as she reached for his mug.

"you've been coming here for months, frank, we must be on a first-name basis now, don't you think?"

he wasn't exactly sure how to explain to her that it was simply a respect thing. he had seen so many customers refer to her with disrespectful pet names that the idea of being lumped into the same category as them made his skin crawl.

he eventually murmured her name, liking the way it rolled off his tongue and smiled softly. "you look really nice today, by the way."

her cheeks turned a rosy hue, which made his smile even wider, and did a once-over of the lace apron that covered the ankle-length dress she wore underneath. "I wear the same thing every day, frank."

He nodded. "You look nice every day."

with a breathless sigh, she shook her head and murmured - "you silver-tongued devil, you."

"hey sweet cheeks!" a patron smacked the table twice and beckoned her toward him. "need a little help over here."

she glanced at frank with wide eyes and then left to tend to the men a couple tables over.

frank had been gripping the coffee mug so tightly, his knuckles grew white.

"tell me, sweetie, is this a standard diner uniform you got on, or do they make you wear a sexier one on account of that sweet, sweet ass you got behind ya?"

the men with him erupted in a cacophony of obnoxious laughter, and it was all he could do, not to wander over there and knock their blocks off on the spot.

she kept it professional and polite the entire time, and when she went back to refill frank's cup, she noticed the expression on his face immediately.

"it's okay," she urged. "I get it all of the time."

frank's lips twisted into a scowl. "it's not even remotely okay. it's disgusting."

"yeah, well, unfortunately for us women, they don't really make men like you anymore, frank." she glanced at the watch on the underside of her wrist and sighed. "I'm done in about an hour anyway - please don't make a scene."

frank took a deep breath and tried to savor the rich taste of the coffee on his tongue. tried to focus on anything other than ringing all of those - pathetic excuses for men's - bells. "I won't, of course." silence settled between them before he quirked a brow in mild amusment and mumbled, "I look like the kinda guy who would make a scene?"

"honestly, yes." she laughed.

he wasn't sure where the need to protect her had come from. he hardly knew her. but it was there, and he was growing tired of ignoring it.

he didn't offer to walk her to her subway stop this time, instead telling her that he wanted to stay a little longer to finish his book. she seemed dubious, but she didn't question him about it, only asking him if she would see him tomorrow morning.

he nodded once before confirming that he would be there.

"bye, frank."

he lifted a hand in a wave. "take care of yourself, kid."

it slipped out before he could catch it. he wasn't sure of her exact age, but he figured she was younger than him by a good stretch. in any regard - she didn't seem to mind the nickname at all. he might have even spotted the ghost of a smile on her face as she turned to leave.

frank waited patiently for the men to finish their meals, and when they rose to leave after paying their bills, he did too. there were three of them; all of which - he noted with satisfaction - could be overpowered all too easily. it took the one who was beaking off at her a good ten minutes to realize they were being followed, and he turned to frank, chest puffed and ready to rumble.

"there a reason you're following us?"

frank had backed them into a dead-end alley.

he hooked a thumb over his shoulder and spoke in a low, measured way.

"you owe that lady back there an apology for the way you spoke to her."

the men exploded in a fit of laughter that itched just beneath the surface of his skin, and caused his fists to flex at his sides.

"I don't owe that piece of ass a goddamn thing, asshole."

frank was on him in seconds, wailing on every part of the man's body he could get his fists on. he had expected the friends to join in - frank would have taken them as well, but when he glanced back, they were gone.

the roar that erupted from him was inherently primal - unfamiliar even to his own ears, and he knew then that he was reaching a precipice, of which there could be no return once crossed.

"you had enough yet? huh? you done?"

the man could barely form words - blood gushed from a myriad of cuts in his face, and he was missing a couple of teeth. frank ripped himself away from the sack of flesh in front of him, before wiping away the sweat from his brow.

"learn some fucking manners, man. try thinking twice before you ever speak to a girl like that again." he spit on the man for good measure and stalked off.

true to his word, he was back in his booth the very next morning.

"rough night?" she simpered, as she leaned over to fill his cup.

frank flexed his impossibly sore knuckles and shrugged. "I've had worse."

she slipped into the seat before him, and reached over to run a cool fingertip over the swollen curves of his knuckles. he fought the urge to shiver into the pleasant sensation.

"are you alright, frank?"

he cleared his throat. "yeah, I'm fine."

she gave him a last, longing gaze before getting up to continue her rounds. he caught her just as she was about to head to next table.

now or never, frankie-boy.

"will you have dinner with me?"

she seemed surprised, but in the place of that surprise, a wry smile tugged at the edges of her lips.

"are you asking me on a date, Mr. Castle?"

frank nodded. "yes ma'am, I am."

"well alright then," she beamed, and frank felt the warmth from her smile like a ray of sunshine on his face. "I'd love to grab dinner with you."

[outerwildsgeology]

Meet the Founders: Mohs

Outer Wilds Geological Survey Founder: Mohs, drawn by @dekkiidan Howdy! Thanks so much for stopping by the Outer Wilds Geological Survey database, it's always great to know there are folks out there interested in the amazing stories and secrets that our local, and not so local, geology can tell us!

Anyways, I'm Mohs - nice to meet you! I'm one of the founders of the survey alongside my good pal and esteemed colleague and pilot, Lari. Ah, yeah, most folks already know, I'm not a fan of flying . . . but that's why Lari is our pilot and not me. Besides, how can I solve the mysteries of the Quantum Shards with only the samples we have on Timber Hearth when there are more outcrops out there waiting to be analysed? Conclusion:- I can't! Unfortunately. And, you know, Lari hasn't crashed us! No yet, anyway.

Geology wise, my main areas of expertise lie in what most folks would call laboratory and technician work, so things like sample and specimen prep, sorting out thin sections for microscopy, and sawing large samples to get a nice clean surface for proper observational analysis. This is why you're more likely to find me in the museum prep. room than out in the field. Don't get me wrong, I love field work too, especially when Lari and I are wrangling a particularly tricky outcrop, or if there are fossils involved; but somebody has to ensure the survey sample and field note collections are properly organised, analysed and documented. And, I'm not sure if you've ever seen Lari or Hornfels' own collections, whether that be geological, astronomical or research based, but - well let's just say, I don't think they're the right hearthians for keeping things organised. Sorry Lari! Sorry Hornfels!

I'm also currently working on a research paper and presentation regarding Quantum Geology that has recently come along in leaps and bounds thanks to Hal and the hatchling's translation tool titled -

"Quantum Geology: A morphological mystery, or lost in translation?"

Because, you know, based on some of the latest translations, I really don't think the Nomai fully understood the complex nature of these curious shards, and I would love to crack the mystery of their formation and origins!

Ah, apologies, I got a little carried away there, heh! Well, if you ever have any questions, don't hesitate to get in touch with either of us, we'll do our best to shed some light on the mysteries and puzzles of the amazing geological history of our solar system! And if you have any questions about Quantum Geology, or even want to share theories, I'm all ears!

Thanks again for stopping by!

[sebadztian]

Another week, another episode. Let's go!!

Spoilers for episode 4 below (and the manga too!)

*press the 'Skip Recap' button* - where was this button last week?

I've read the manga, I know what's going on, but it still strange to see Sebas serving morning tea to someone who's not Ciel...

Ah, so Sebas knows that Sieg & Ciel are roughly the same size... His Bocchan is really tiny.

I'm pretty sure it takes more than a bedcover to make a dress, but whatever.

"A skill a dressmaker could do better."

1. Nina will agree, 110%

2. Humility doesn't suit you, sir.

Even going to breakfast has to be accompanied by sparkles... The DRAMA...

Wolf looked like he wanted to punch Sebas in the face. I don't blame him.

*Skip Intro*

I've got to admit, when I first read about this whole 'Formal Table Setting' thing in the manga, I learned a lot.

What is it with Sebas and his tendency to get into someone's face? An intimidation tactic? A decline in his vision? Or is he just weird like that?

Ofc she doesn't know anything about table manners. She was raised by a Wolf (Get it?)

I call bullshit. Sir, you don't even have a heart!

Ah, he's dangling the 'knowledge' carrot in front of her. I think he was testing the water here, to see how she'd react, if she'd take his bait. And she did. Enthusiastically too.

It was her weakness and he exploited that. I talked about this some time ago, about how Sebas had seduced Sieg with the promise of 'more knowledge' and 'the outside world' to get her to cooperate.

Bard, if only you knew... Sebas was crying inside. "Bocchaaaan.... Bocchaann... Please let me touch you...!"

Tanaka is highly underrated just because he's half-chibi. One of the reasons why I love this arc is because we get to see the servants in action. We did see that in the Circus arc too, ofc. But this one is different. They weren't at home, they were stuck in a foreign territory, battling an army of German soldiers, and they still kicked ass!

*Professor Michaelis flashback*

A solid proof that Sebas does care about Ciel. He brings that book with him everywhere so that he can be prepared if Ciel was having another asthma attack or any other illness that the little lord might've neglected to mention because Sebas 'never asked'.

I'm sorry... what did they do to people with sore throat back then?!

Neither have I, Sieglinde. Neither have I. But bacon does make me happy, so...

Wolf has been demoted from 'butler & caretaker' to 'errand boy'.

Babyyy....!!

Sebas is missing out!

Seb: I KNOW! BOCCHAAAANNN...!! 😭😭

Please don't scold Finny. He's trying his best... He's so sweet!! I love him!!

It is really hard to believe that this was the same boy who stood his ground against a literal demon. I did some research on mustard gas and yes, this is one of the effects. Basically it enhanced the negative feelings, such as fear or anxiety tenfold and that's why Ciel is like this. The 'werewolves' were there to further worsen this effect.

This is truly heartbreaking. Ciel's crying and feeling that he didn't deserve any of this, that he wasn't good enough. This gas is enhancing his childhood trauma and opened the dam of three years of suppressed emotions. This arc really shows how much Ciel had sacrificed and how hard it was to maintain the image of 'Ciel Phantomhive'. He lost his entire personality, the sweet, caring, and wonderful younger brother.

So, back then, Ciel & Seba were sent to investigate and dismantle the lab in Germany, just like how the queen was sending him to Germany again to investigate about the werewolf village. Somebody really needs to call child service...

Sebastian looked way too happy to fight a child test subject...

He really was adorable. No wonder everyone wanted a piece of him...

I might've misheard it, but I thought I heard Ciel say 'Shieru' (as in RC) and Sebas. Due to the way Japanese sentences are structured, the object was said first before the verb and he did say something about RC. But the translation didn't mention it because it wouldn't make any sense because he hadn't utter the verb.

Ciel-shaped lump on the bed. (Why does he look like a turnip?)

I should've hired Sebas as my English tutor, or read that book about the bacon. I've been learning English for 20+ years and I still can't speak it perfectly, but Sieg spend the morning (3 hours at most?) learning the language using a single book and she's now fluent in English.

Well, that's a unique, not weird at all, thing to say to a sick person, don't you think? And she did well on not mentioning the marked eye. Sebas looked somewhat worried, but mostly kept his poker face. I bet it took everything in him not to reach out to touch his little meow-meow.

Sieg knew some things about various rituals to conclude that Seb & Ciel were devil worshippers based on the marks on Seb's hand & Ciel's eye. She even recognized the symbol as demonic signs.

I wonder if this knowledge would come up again in the later chapters of the manga...

Painful memory? Actually, it was a fond memory. It was the day he met his future husband!

Dear lord, what on earth was Wolf doing?! Was he wighing the salt?! Why?!

I don't know why Yana said that Sebas acted without thinking. He's shown that he was quite knowledgeable and he can think on his feet. He came up with a strategy when battling UT on Campania, and he knew that there was something hidden underneath the manor, so he utilized Snake's snake to investigate further. The man is a smart cookie and combine that with his experience, he's actually very clever and sly.

This is way funnier in the anime than in the manga. And look at that ass!

Snake looks like he got some sort of a revelation... and fangs.

And that's it for this week. It was overall a great episode. Everyone got some decent screentime and some scenes are much better animated than they were in the manga. Like Ciel's grief and his helplessness. It was much more pronounced in the anime.

I think they did a great job with this arc. They're clearly more comfortable with drawing the characters because they look much better than last season's.

And I'm happy that they're staying true to the manga. At this point, I don't want to see an AU of any sort like S1 or S2. I just want to see the manga panels come into life and hear the characters' voices. Some might not agree with me, but that's just my personal preference.

See you next week!

[vidavalor]

I love this scene. Yes, eyebrows out of control lol and love the braid. I so hope we come back to this in The Finale for the vavoom. Those are some gorgeous gifs.

And re: Az's wiggling-- all of your above! and also probably "ok, fine, I probably should also think of a new flirty pun." 😂 I think that the "it's ineffable" of Eden was a more clever version of the attempted word flirting of Maggie's paralleling "stripadeliveragram" moment that then, we can see, developed into a recurring joke, the way that things from first meetings and early dates tend to.

Ineffable technically means unable to spoken or expressed aloud but it's also developed a meaning of that which is unknowable. The Biblical euphemism for sex of to know originating with Adam & Eve makes the "ineffable" joke beginning in Eden even funnier. In the word is also 'eff', slang for to fuck, and all of that together is Aziraphale being all 'yes, The Great Plan is massively unfuckable/unsexy' as a way of flirting with Crowley.

Crowley would have appreciated that more in the moment in Eden if his clever brain hadn't evaporated checking out that enormously effable angel.

By The Flood, we see that Aziraphale has kept at it with this one, to the point that it's a recurring joke and Crowley is all "are you going to say 'ineffable'?" It's shorthand meaning 'Heaven's unsexy and irritating lunacy' to them and has stayed in rotation for thousands of years, with them using it that way in 1827, as well. Additionally, there's another thing it came to mean in real life, though.

In the 1800s, the word ineffables was slang for trousers for a time until it, along with the word inexpressibles, became wealthy lady slang for small clothes/underwear. It also existed across the pond, where wealthy American women would refer to these as unmentionables.

The etymology of how these women came to refer to these garments this way is unknown but the popular consensus is that, as unnecessarily precious as these church-going ladies were being, they were also being slyly quite clever, since they all knew that Biblical meaning of know and then were going around calling underwear ineffables-- barriers to, ah, getting to know someone.

I'd bet heavily that, in the Good Omens world, that was all started by Aziraphale. 😂 At minimum, he and Crowley adopted the slang of ineffables meaning underwear and lingerie, even if they both have some very effable ineffables. You know they're still using it into today... My dear, if you are looking for the lovely things you wore earlier in the week, they are on the drying rack. I took the liberty of conducting an ineffables cycle earlier today.

GOOD OMENS "Hard Times"

[kireilien]

do u have some thoughts about more ddlg with maki pls

YES OF COURSE! WHO DO YOU THINK I AM?

tw/cw. nsfw content, cursing; soft dom!maki, sub!reader, fem!reader, race neutral reader, ddlg, body worship, praise, dirty talk, petting, heavily implied unprotected sex lol, use of “daddy,” “princess”

mmmmm daddy maki pill delicious remember to take them twice a day everyday for the best maximum results

not to toot my own horn, but i like to believe i quote on quote pioneered the daddy dom maki agenda, or even the dom maki agenda in general! teehee but i feel like it makes so much sense it js immediately clicks!

maki is such a classic daddy figure. i’ve talked a lot abt what he’d be like in this love letter (and my entire account), but i’m expanding more on the nsfw side of things! for one, despite contrary belief (my account), maki isn’t the type of daddy to force you to be the all girly, pink, bows, and frills type of sub for him. that’s honestly just a plus. he simply likes when you’re able to rest your mind and let daddy do the work for you! 

carefully setting you on his lap, he smiles at you. you’re not even doing anything, his pretty princess’ body is just so cute, maki can’t resist his hands off of you, “hmm, you’re gorgeous, princess.” you scrunch your brows, “daddy… i’m not even doing anything?”

maki clicks his tongue at you, “yeah, that’s the point,” his hands trail from your shoulders down to his hips as he continues, “my princess’ body is perfect. these arms, these tits, this belly, this pussy, so perfect.” you huff out an exhale before you feel maki’s palms roll your hips up to press his tip at your entrance. 

your hands almost raise up– just by the tiniest movement, maki corrects you, “ah, ah, ah, princess. don’t move a finger.” you pout a little, but you listen to daddy, so you keep your arms at your sides.

he eventually presses into you, cock slipping easily against your folds. a little gasp escapes you, and maki thinks it’s the cutest thing ever. “feels good?” he hums against your lips. “s’good…” you trail off as you raise your arms to wrap around his neck, burying your head in the crook of his neck. 

maki smiles once more against your ear, “just feel good f’ me, ‘kay?” you hum back as a response. daddy doesn’t mind that you don’t even have the energy to speak. that’s how he makes his princess feels. just wanting you to make your mind blank and fuck you good is his whole point anyways. 

once he finally moves, you can feel the tip of his cock pressing up in you. your moans and subtle whimpers are filling maki’s ears just right. he chuckles against your ear, “like how my cock fills you up right, princess?” unable to speak once more, you simply nod, too immersed in your pleasure. he simply releases a hand from your hips to pet and caress your hair.

your job is to feel good for daddy, and you do just that ♡︎ 

back 2 maki catalog

[margarine-archives]

Courting HCs with: Royal Margarine Cookie !

A continuation of this post

notes: it's been awhile haha. This has been in my drafts since 2023. I apologize that it's super short, its originally unfinished but might as well post it. I might only write for royal margarine cookie this time around, so feel free to request me anything for royal margarine !

oh ?? the famous royal margarine cookie wants to court you ? You are quite the special one ! Yet knowing who you are, it's gonna take more than just a few words to truly swoon over such a majestic cookie ! ~

as expected, royal margarine cookie makes more of an effort to graciously flirt with you, spending most of his free time coming up with more creative lines to, hopefully, make you fall for him ! The special cookie that ( unbeknownst to him ) made him swoon from mere presence !

He makes it his goal to make you fall just as hard for him. ' it should be quite easy for a charming cookie such as I ! ~ ' the dragon rider thinks

to see you reject his words takes him aback, but takes this as a challenge, as a dragon rider he must not give up so easily.

maybe you both had met at the bar, and so it begins. Royal margarine cookie making his daily visit to the bar to have a drink or two with a cookie like you, and graciously throw a pickup line or two in the midst of your conversation, making sure to take a good look at your features to find any form of reaction ( or maybe its another excuse to truly admire you lovingly )

whether you reaction to his advances are positive or not, it’s quite obvious how nervous he is— stiff posture, glancing anywhere but your eyes, and the fidgeting of his fingers.

Despite his multitude of praise and compliments at you, royal margarine is not someone who will take things further, leaving you constantly open to reject him. At this rate, if you want to take things further, it’s up to you on taking the lead ! He swears he’s trying !!!

during the ACTUAL courting stage, royal margarine ensures that nothing goes wrong ! Being the most chivalric and sweet cookie that could only be seen in fairytales ! Many townsfolk are fond at the sight of you two, and grandma cookie can’t help but let out a soft sigh towards it, muttering “ ah, young love ! “ ( even if you two may not be as young as she claims anymore .. )

while there are people who can’t help but turn their heads towards you both, there’s a certain group that really, really aren’t fond of the amount of attention he’s giving to you. Said people are royal margarine’s fans in particular.

many would cast you jealous stares, envious, wanting to be them instead of you. Royal margarine tells you to pay no mind, yet you can’t help but wonder: what makes you so special out of the bunch ?

royal margarine wouldn’t admit it— unless drunk, but he knows, in his heart, that you’ve seen him as more than just a deception he’s succumbed himself into. An endless, perfect performance that somehow, some way, you found a way through the loophole of lies that have driven more than just fake stories.

A fake role, fake personality, fake everything, and yet you loved him— tended to him like it was second nature. If anyone should be asking ‘ what makes me so special than the rest ? ‘ it should be him.

although he’s inexperienced, he really does try to show more of it that he truly is genuine with the ( sometimes over-the-top ) things he does.

Royal margarine is slowly learning, growing overtime, to overcome fears— one of them in having the habit to hide and hide away until the sun disappears, where not even tears that flow down can be seen by the naked eye. He hopes that no one but you sees the raw emotion through his eyes, when he hands you a bouquet with a red, smiling face

“ I know I’m not really.. well— the BEST at these things, and you don’t have to like what I do !!! You deserve so much more …! But.. I hope to see you only see the truth, and not the lies I’ve built up. “

[thescrapwitch]

HELLO ! I have seen your poll and you mention being somewhat knowledgeable in arthurian legends

it happen to be that i like the concept of it , the aesthetic , buuuuuuuuuuuut i do not know where to begin it is all very scary looking

anyways if you feel like , drop us some recomendations (we might crown you queen of camelot for that , not that i have any power to do so but we could brainstorm a plan for that , charles dont have that good of king england swagger )

Warning for the very long answer to this question. You have unlocked my special interest; prepare for all the words:

So!

Arthuriana can be best described as a very old, long-running fandom with no actual canon source. This means that there’s no true version, no first text we can all point to and go, “ah yes this is the sacred text right here”. Its layers and layers of different time periods/cultures picking up the myth and going “but what if I wrote a story set here with MY OC KNIGHT”. Parts of that got mixed together to make the more “recognizable” bits of the story (Round Table, Excalibur, evil Mordred, etc) and other parts were forgotten about. Which means you have a grand buffet of different stories to devour.

My main interest in Arthuriana is anything medieval (a very broad term I know) and less the modern day retellings (though I will have some recommendations for them here too). I’ve tried to organize a sort of “starter pack” list broken up into different kinds of books so that you can pick the ones that sound the most interesting and dive in from there. There really is no wrong place to start. This story is so old that things are constantly getting added, changed, retold and rediscovered.

Very Old/Medieval Texts:

I want to stress that this isn’t like a course list or required reading. These are just some Arthuriana books that I’ve read and enjoyed. Pick the ones that sound the most fun, and don’t feel like you need to struggle through the medieval stuff if you’re not into that (the language/more religious themes can take a little getting used to).

Le Morte D’Arthur by Thomas Malory

If you’re going to read one Arthuriana book from ye old days, this one is my top rec. Malory basically takes all the previous Arthurian legends he likes and puts them into a mostly coherent story. It's my absolute favourite.

TRANSLATION REC: New American Library edition; translated by Keith Baines

I like this one the best because the language feels more accessible and it cuts out a chunk of filler stuff (Malory we needed far less of Tristran faffing about and much more about the guy who was cursed to be a werewolf!) but I don’t know how easy it will be to find, so…

ADDITIONAL TRANSLATION REC: The Penguin English Library edition; translated by Janet Cowen (its split into two volumes)

Mabinogion

This one is a collection of Welsh myths/stories, some which have to do with Arthurian legends and some which are their own thing. It contains Culhwch and Olwen, arguably the oldest Arthurian tale, and one of my favs.

TRANSLATION REC: Oxford World Classics; translated by Sioned Davies

Arthurian Romances

A collection of chivalric French Arthurian tales, many which were later absorbed by Malory. Some fun stories in here, especially the Lancelot one.

TRANSLATION REC: Everyman Library edition; translated by D. D. R. Owen

Gawain and the Green Knight

Nothing says Christmas like executions! An Old English poem featuring the knight Gawain beheading a green giant, and then being told he too will have to give up his head in a year’s time. I love the alliteration in it.

TRANSLATION REC: Faber & Faber edition; translated by Simon Armitage

(there’s also one by JRR Tolkien, though he sticks to a more formal translation of the language - still good though!)

History of the Kings of Britain by Geoffrey of Monmouth

This is not an accurate book for history, but it did help introduce/popularize a lot of the Arthurian classics, such as Merlin and Mordred.

TRANSLATION REC: Penguin Classics edition; translated by Lewis Thorpe

The Death of King Arthur

(also known as the Alliterative Morte Arthure)

Not to be confused with Malory’s text, this one is a poem that focuses mostly on the end of Arthur’s reign. There’s a bit in it that radically changed how I view Morded as a character and it has stuck with me because of that.

TRANSLATION REC: W.W. Norton & Company edition; translated by Simon Armitage

Romance of Tristan by Beroul

A chivalric romance that takes place in Cornwall and has become intertwined with Arthuriana, it contains some classic elements like: a love potion, doomed lovers, a dragon and a tragic ending. It also contains the beginnings of one of my favourite knights, the sarcastic Sir Dinadan

TRANSLATION REC: Penguin Classics edition; translated by Alan S. Fedrick

Quest for the Holy Grail

Fair warning, this one is very religious in the old-school medieval way and because of that can be (a) hard to read and (b) very weird, but it does involve the Grail myth which has become a big part of Arthuriana.

TRANSLATION REC: Penguin Classics edition; translated by Pauline Matarasso

Lais of Marie de France

A woman medieval writer, these are a collection of stories in verse that focus on chivalry/courtly love. While not strictly Arthurian, they do carry the same themes, and also one of them involves a werewolf. (Yes, Malory, I’m still pissed you didn’t give us more about that!)

TRANSLATION REC: Penguin Classics edition; translated by Keith Busby

Parzival by Wolfram von Eschenbach

More Grail myth, this time with Parzival as the main character and from a German medieval writer. I love this one because of the author’s weird little rants that he goes on throughout the story, complaining about women and how no one understands his genius.

TRANSLATION REC: Penguin Classics edition; translated by Arthur Thomas Hatto

Idylls of the King by Alfred Lord Tennyson

Okay, technically this is Victorian, not medieval, but it's a classic within Arthuriana and I like it a lot so I’m throwing it on this list. It's a long, narrative poem following Arthur’s rise and fall. Also Tennyon agrees with me on how the Kitchen Knight SHOULD HAVE ENDED and so I’m very glad to have someone else backing my Arthurian OTP.

(he also wrote the very famous “Lady of Shalott” Arthurian poem, which isn’t actually in this book, but I wanted to mention it too)

TRANSLATION REC: Penguin Classics edition

Modern Retellings:

There are way too many retellings to list here, so here are some of my favourites. They come from different genres (fantasy, middle grade, young adult, historical fiction, etc) so I suggest looking them up on Goodreads and seeing from the summary to see if you want to read them.

The Merlin Series by Mary Stewart

Sword of the Rightful King by Jane Yolen

The Arthurian Trilogy by Rosemary Sutcliff

Winter Prince by Elizabeth Wein

The Dark is Rising Series by Susan Cooper

Spear by Nicola Griffith

Once and Future King Series by T H White

I Am Mordred by Nancy Springer

Legendborn Trilogy by Tracy Deonn

Once and Future Duology by A.R. Capetta and Cory McCarthy

Fionavar Tapestry Trilogy by Guy Gavriel Kay

(technically this one is not strictly an Arthurian retelling, but King Arthur/Lancelot/Guinevere play a big role in the trilogy and also I adore these books so I’m throwing it on here)

Nonfiction Sources:

These are great if you want to learn more about Arthuriana in general.

Inklings and King Arthur by Sørina Higgins

A look at the Inklings and the influence Arthuriana had on them. Very interesting, especially if you are in the Tolkien or Narnia fandoms.

The Romance of Arthur by James J. Wilhelm

Okay, I took one Arthurian Legends class in uni and this was our textbook and I still love it. A really good overview of different old sources. I’m sure there are newer editions out there but this is the one I have.

The Celtic Myths that Shape the Way We Think by Mark Williams

Not exclusively on Arthuriana (some Welsh and Irish mythology discussed in here as well) but a fascinating look at some popular figures, like Taliesin and Merlin. I got it for Christmas last year and devoured it in an afternoon. Love the balance it strikes between how these myths are seen today and how they were actually written.

Mammoth Book of Arthurian Legends by Mike Ashley

I find this book really useful as an overview for all the different names/sources/texts that are involved in Arthuriana. It's like an encyclopedia of sorts for me, especially when I want information on one specific character who has like twelve names (looking at you GAWAIN!)

Malory: The Life and Times of King Arthur's Chronicler by Christina Hardyment

A really cool look at the writer behind Le Morte D’Arthur. Since so many modern day retellings take their inspiration from that text, it was fun to learn more about the writer. He’s not a good person (he did write Le Morte while in jail, afterall) but he’s fascinating to learn about.

I hope this helps! Like I said, it's such a long running fandom/myth that this only scratches the surface. My suggestion is, once you figure out what parts of the myth you like best - a certain character or type of retelling or time period - to then dive more fully into there. Enjoy!

[lingrimmart]

Hello. I am a really big fan of TCoL; your art really inspires me to learn how to draw. Ayelahai has the best fashion, in my opinion. I have a curious question: What does Roui think of the other countries?

Hi! Thank you so much! It’s really nice to hear that our work inspires you. And I agree — Ayelahai have one of the best fashion styles, no doubt about it :> Wishing you lots of luck and fun with your drawing journey!

So, what does Roui think about the other countries... He hasn’t visited many (I genuinely don’t remember if he’s ever been to Ayelahai), but there are two places he can tell us about. Let’s ask him.

Latori

Not exactly my favorite spot. Sure, there are a couple of nice historical sites and tourist traps — if you like that sort of thing. After the old war, though, things got a bit… tangled. They're trying to patch it up; some folks are really working on it. On the bright side — good food, clean air, a lot of trees, rich soil. You know, the important stuff for farmers. I'm not a farmer.

Nouri

Ah, the great rival of Latori. Personally, I like it more. It's the kind of place where your brain gets a proper workout. So many things to see; if you ever visit, don't miss the library in the capital — it’s a wonder. You can be anyone you want there… just, uh, maybe don't get too cozy with the Synglits. They’re those charmingly unhinged scientists who might offer you a "great opportunity" — which usually means unpaid work, or, if you're lucky, an invitation to become a "voluntary" donor or test subject. Good money if you don't mind losing a few joints. Or an organ. Depends on what you sign — and you should read what you're signing in Nouri. Other than that? Perfect place. Nourians are chill, they love rock music — so do I. Definitely hit one of the underground bars if you get the chance. You’ll thank me later.

[beef-brisket]

Lucifer watched Theo like a hawk. Every move he made, everything he said, or did was being monitored by either Lucifer or Bandit. He could tell the shift in the dog right away, but Adam tried to brush it off.

He said it was because they were going into winter, that Bandit always acts weird around this time, but Lucifer knew it was because of Theo. Bandit was ready to pounce if he needed to.

Adam: Dad! I've got something to show you!

Theo looked up from his morning coffee and looked towards his son, who was out of the patio. Lucifer stared at the name across the table from him. He wanted to smack the older man when he actually had the nerve to look annoyed at his son. Luckily, Adam couldn't see him very well through the blinds and the window.

But Theo put on a good ack.

With a smile and a wink to Lucifer, he called out to Adam: What's that, son? Something good, I hope! I haven't finished my morning Joe, yet!

Adam: Oh- we can go see her afterwards then-.

Theo: "Her"?! Well, why didn't you say so, boy? Show me this Sheila!

Lucifer glared harder as Adam sounded even more excited and ushered his father out the door. It was sick that he would move so quickly for the potential of there being a woman outside.

Adam: This way, dad. You'll love her.

Theo: Hope so son, there's nit much options for ass out here.

Adam: Uh... what?

The blonde watched front the porch as the two men walked over to the barn. He could see them once they went inside.

Adam: This is Shire!

The older man looked up at the white horse, who tilted her head at him, not sure of her visitor. But Adam quickly distracted her when he pulled an apple out of his pocket.

Theo laughed: Ah! This is the Sheila! And here I thought there was a woman out here! Wishful thinking being on a fag farm, huh? Good girl, look at you!

Adam looked down as Theo patted Shire on the nose. But he quickly decided to ignore the comment and talk about how Lucifer brought him the horse and how amazing she is.

Theo: Alright, kid, calm down, yeah? You're rattling so much I can barely understand a word you said. I thought that rich boy school your whore of a mother sent you to would have fixed that weird speech thing.

Adam: "S-Speech thing"? What speech thing?

Theo: That thing where you don't shut up! Ha! Oh, don't look so down. It's just a joke! No wonder you shacked up with a dude, you're obviously the fucking woman.

Adam cringed and looked away as Theo wrapped his arm around his neck and forced Adam closer.

Theo: But... in all seriousness. This place isn't half bad! Not bad at all. You've come a long way, son.

Adam: Yeah? You mean it!

Theo laughed: I know, surprised myself, even! But, I mean it. All of it. You've done well for yourself! Picked a good one- a rich one! Now, make sure you bleed him dry, huh? Ha!

Adam: I'm... I'm not here for that...

Theo: Oh, sure you are! What else would you be with him for? To get your ass fucked, like some bitch?

Adam: W-What?! No! I-I love him!

Theo shook his head: You don't need to lie to me, Ad. I know you. You may claim to love him, but I know you want his money. Look at what he's given you! How couldn't you use him? I'm sure he's soo easy! I mean, to fall for you, he must be fucked in the head!

Adam: D-Dad-.

Theo: Oh, I'm only kidding, son! No need to cry like a pussy! Although you get fucked like you have one, huh~?

Adam tensed until he heard Lucifer call out, saying its lunch time. He didn't hear what Theo said before he walked out, but Adam gave Shire a strained smile before petting her.

Adam: I hate this... b-but there's a chance, right?

-

As they ate, Lucifer stared at Adam. He was being quiet while Theo looked smug. This wasn't good.

-

Later that night, Lucifer finally had an opportunity to talk to Adam after he got out of the shower. He quickly walked in and locked the door, making Adam jump.

Adam: Oh! H-Hey Lu. You good?

Lucifer: Oh, I'm great! You, on the other hand.

Adam: ...What did I do?

Lucifer sighed: Nothing, Ad. But what's going on? What did he say?

Adam: S-Say? Nothing! I just showed dad, Shire... it was... good.

Lucifer: ...Very convincing...

90 Day Fianceé: After The 90 Day's

@beef-brisket

Lucifer grinned from ear to ear as he had the tickets in hand for him and Adam to go on their honeymoon to New Zealand. There was so much for them to see over there and Adam really wanted to go to Taumatawhakatangihangakoauauotamateaturipukakapikimaungahoronukupokaiwhenuakitanatahu.

Or Taumata Hill for short.

Not to mention all the other places they could go.

Lucifer: Addie! Are you ready love?

Adam came down with his suitcase and gave Bandit a few pats, Lute was going to take him while they were away for the two weeks.

Adam: You know it!

They went out and loaded up their car, Bandit ran and jumped in the back seat.

Lucifer: Maybe you can come with us another time boy.

Lucifer ruffled up his fur and got in the driver's seat, Adam got in next to him and they drove out to Lutes.

Lute took Bandit and waved: Have fun you two!

They waved and went to the airport. Adam and Lucifer went through security and to their gate where they took a picture together. Soon their gate number was called and they were off to go on their honeymoon.

Lucifer: I'm so excited!

Adam: Me too! I've never been to New Zealand before.

[mourn-and-watch]

you know what. i actually love that trying to talk to solas was the last thing varric did and it ended in complete failure. especially if you put it in the context of his feelings about anders. varric was so bitter every time he mentioned him because he could not stop him. he didn't even realize that anders was up to something and when it was too late he started to think of him as of someone who destroyed that fragile peace in kirkwall that actually never existed.

it adds layers to the way he felt about solas. he believed that time he could stop a friend who simply lost his way. because varric tethras can talk anyone out of anything, can't he? anders was just too dodgy and self-centred and cut everyone off just like solas did but this time varric is completely prepared. surely. absolutely.

he could have never talked anders out of it even if he had known what was coming. he could have never talked solas out of it either. anders was a desperate person standing against (as varric himself put it) forces he couldn't possibly defeat. solas was a god standing against a couple of mortals and his own conscience buried under his guilt and regrets. being a good friend would not stop meredith's oppression. being a good friend would not stop someone who fears so much that all of the atrocities he committed were for nothing and would mean nothing at the end. varric died because he didn't realize it. he died and left his second in command with an immense guilt because they believed he knew solas enough to pull that off and there's something tragic about it

[babacontainsmultitudes]

Squinting intensely at Will as he says that after thousands and thousands of years the bigfoot world suddenly looks like the 1950s (albeit like the Jetsons version). Mr. Campos that's a rather suspicious thing to say paired with that other suspicious thing people picked up on you saying in episode 1. You know, this:

🤨 Anything you want to share with the class, Will?

[vaguely-concerned]

kill me

(*wobbly tearstained voice* this is father & son richard plantagenet in henry vi part 3 1983 dir jane howell btw. which is. extremely good)

[acourtofquestions]

Overhead, the stars shone clear and bright, and though Mala had only once appeared to him at dawn, on the foothills across this very city, though she might be little more than a strange, mighty being from another world, he offered up a prayer anyway.

Then, he had begged Mala to protect Aelin from Maeve when they entered Doranelle, to give her strength and guidance, and to let her walk out alive. Then, he had begged Mala to let him remain with Aelin, the woman he loved. The goddess had been little more than a sunbeam in the rising dawn, and yet he had felt her smile at him.

Tonight, with only the cold fire of the stars for company, he begged her once more.

A curl of wind sent his prayer drifting to those stars, to the waxing moon silvering the camp, the river, the mountains.

He had killed his way across the world; he had gone to war and back more times than he cared to remember. And despite it all, despite the rage and despair and ice he'd wrapped around his heart, he'd still found Aelin. Every horizon he'd gazed toward, unable and unwilling to rest during those centuries, every mountain and ocean he'd seen and wondered what lay beyond... It had been her. It had been Aelin, the silent call of the mating bond driving him, even when he could not feel it.

They'd walked this dark path together back to the light. He would not let the road end here.