#but at least for the foreseeable future I will have to keep up my work

[thelastspeecher]

I finally graduated from physical therapy for my ankle! 🥳

[stairset]

I decided I'm taking the L and applying for the car part assembly place that my former neighbor works at cause A) she can vouch for me which increases my chances of actually getting it, B) all the places I actually wanted to work at either aren't hiring or never got back to me but this place is always hiring, and C) it's full-time and pays $17.75 an hour and I've looked at the rent prices for nearby apartments and calculated that with that pay I should be able to move out in about a year give or take so even though I won't enjoy it it'll be worth it in the long run.

[moondancediner]

Love of my Life

summary: the dagger squad meets hangman's best-kept secret

jake seresin x reader

word count: 1490

warnings: no editing, fluff

a/n: this popped into my head the other night... enjoy! also this gif makes me CHOKE ohmylord

song rec: love of my life - harry styles

masterlist

It wasn’t on purpose. Nights when you and Jake ended up at the same bar were never planned, mostly because your friends from work always wanted to go somewhere downtown, and Jake’s friends from work always wanted to go to the Hard Deck so there was never a chance for the two groups to intersect. 

Tonight, however, your friends had enough of hearing about all your nights at the Hard Deck with your fighter pilot husband who drops by work every once and a while with lunch or a gorgeous bouquet of flowers. They decided to venture out to the Hard Deck tonight for your monthly get-together and you weren’t going to miss an opportunity to ogle at your husband from across the bar while he played darts and pool with his Dagger Squad friends who just so happened to be in town visiting. 

And that’s exactly where you found yourself on this lovely Friday night. Your friend walked over to your standing table with another drink for you and you thanked her with a smile. She immediately started diving into some workplace gossip, keeping her voice quiet since so many of your colleagues had managed to make it out tonight. You half-listened to her go on how bad the break room refrigerator smelled the other day but your real focus was on Jake who was playing pool with Phoenix, Fanboy, and Bob. He had Bob on his team and you were surprised to see him actually give the man a chance to play without correcting or coaching him. 

You knew all about the Dagger Squad, when Jake was first sent out here you followed him, even knowing this wouldn’t be a permanent duty station, and he talked about everyone he was competing against non stop. From the moment he came home after training you were getting a full rundown of the days happening (you were sworn to secrecy of the top secret events, of course). You learned quickly who was who, even if you never got the opportunity to meet them. 

After the mission, you were pulling out boxes and getting ready to move what little belongings you brought over to the island when Jake came home and surprised you to your core. He accepted a teaching position here on the North Island and you were staying for the foreseeable future. 

You were shocked but over the moon. Jake would be in one spot for at least a couple years and wouldn’t be off on deployments and missions so often. You could start a family and he could actually be there for all of it. 

“Hello? Anybody home?” A hand waving in front of your face brought you out of memories and a trance you hadn’t realized you were in. You laughed and smiled at your friend, but not before catching the eye of Phoenix, who totally caught you staring at Jake. 

“Sorry, sorry, got a little lost there.” You waved her hand out of your face and took another sip from your drink. 

“I’ll say,” she laughed, “I mean, I get it.” Her eyebrows wagged and you laughed heartily, throwing your head back. She was always complimenting your choice of husband and you had to agree with her, he was fine as hell. 

“Fuck, I think one of his friends just caught me staring,” you said once the laughter died down. 

“Remind me again why he doesn’t tell them about you?” 

“It started off as a joke,” you start, “he wanted to see how long it would take one of them to notice, and now it’s just an ongoing bet we have.” 

“A bet I am about to win, by the way.” Jake suddenly appears behind you and you’re happy to see him until his words sink in.

“You’re not allowed to interfere!” You point at him and he just laughs. 

“No interference, I promise.” He leans on the table you two are standing at and you almost forget about the bet for a second because his green eyes still captivate you even after all this time. 

“Well, what are you doing over here then?”

“See now, that’s where it gets interesting because someone caught you looking at me,” he tips his beer over in the direction of his friends, who scatter like chickens when you turn your head to look at them, “and they bet me $20 that I couldn’t walk over here and get your phone number.” 

“Hmmm, seems like fair play to me.” Your friend interjects, looking contemplatively between you and your cheating husband. 

A noise comes out of your mouth, somewhere between disbelief and betrayal. You only had one month left before the bet was yours and you could claim your prize and now this happens, the perfect opportunity falls right into Jake’s lap. 

“Did none of them notice the giant ring on my finger?” You hold up your wedding rings, which glint even in the dim bar lighting and Jake takes your fingers in his hand, bending them towards himself before placing a kiss on your knuckles. You swoon. It’s impossible not to. “Don’t try to distract me, you’re in trouble.” 

“Come on darlin’,” His hand fell away from yours but moved slyly around your hip, where it curled around the belt loops of your shorts, and just then, while his face was inching towards yours, your wedding song came on. 

“When did this song get added to the jukebox?” 

“I may have put in a special request.” His smile did you in. You met him halfway and when your lips met that familiar kaleidoscope of butterflies took flight. Jake pulled away just to smile at you some more before pressing a few quick kisses to your lips. When he backed away enough, you took the chance to look over his shoulder and see what his friends thought. 

The entire group was standing around, completely gobsmacked at what just occurred and you could only imagine what was running through their minds. 

“After you, Mrs. Seresin,” Jake whispered in your ear. You gave him the best glare you could but he just laughed and grabbed your hand to walk you over to the group of people you already felt like you knew. 

Jake chuckled as you got within ear shot. “Everyone, I’d like you to meet someone,” he pulled you under his arm and you automatically slid your own across his back, “this is my wife.” He said it with genuine pride, a stark contrast to his usual cocky tone everyone was used to. 

“Wife?” Rooster repeated, dumbfounded.

“Pick your jaw up off the floor, Bradshaw.”

You ignored Jake and introduced yourself to everyone with a quick wave. “It’s nice to finally meet you all.” 

There was a beat of silence while you watched everyone process what was happening, but Phoenix broke it with a laugh. “You’ve been holding out on us, Bagman!” 

“Yeah, what the hell, man!” Rooster seemed downright offended that Jake would keep such a secret from them and you couldn’t help but laugh. 

“It’s not all Jake’s fault,” You come to his defense, “we had a bet going, which I just lost.” 

“What bet did you two have?” Bob asked, coming forward to introduce himself to you properly. 

You shook his outstretched hand, smiling. “We wanted to see how long it would take for someone to figure out he was married.”

“You… you don’t wear a wedding ring?” Rooster seemed to be having the hardest time with this revelation and it was cracking you up. 

Jake pulled his dog tags out from under his shirt, proudly turning them around to display his gold wedding band that perfectly matched the one around your finger. They both belonged to his grandparents and he was so proud to give you his grandmother's band on your wedding day. 

Phoenix studied the two of you for a moment, watched the way you started to sway to a song and Jake immediately joined in, watched how his attention always drifted back to you, and how his entire cocky dimenor melted away as soon as you were near. 

“So, what’s the story? How did you manage to bag Hangman?” Natasha asked, leaning her hands on the pool cue in front of her. 

Jake pretended to be offended. “I’m not that wild.” 

You roll your eyes affectionately before diving into the story of how you and Jake met. It was nothing spectacular or anything you would want to make a movie about, but it was a whirlwind romance that ended in the two of you married in the Seresin family’s backyard three summers ago. 

When you finished your story, all smiles for your husband, Rooster raised his beer in a toast. “Welcome to the family, Mrs. Seresin.” 

Jake couldn’t help but smile. It felt good to let the team in on his best-kept secret, even if he was gonna pay for her losing the bet later on tonight. 

---

thanks for reading ily

Requests are open 🫶🏻

[thewickwheat]

I'm going to a post full details under the cut, but a short run down:

I've sort of vaguely mentioned this here and there but this year I'm forcing myself to go on a long hiatus. Its been something in the plans for years now, but I can't put it off any longer because 2024 was the worst wrist pain I've dealt with and I don't want to risk permanently damaging myself if I haven't already.

If you're waiting on a comm, don't worry! My hiatus won't officially start until I've finished them all up (estimating April-May to finish up everything), so just bare with me!

Character Sheet comms are staying open

If you're able and willing to support me during this break, please check out my shops or my Patreon!

Ko-Fi - Physical/Digital Merch + Donations

INPRNT - Physical Prints

Patreon - Process Videos and WiPs

Full details and extra info under the cut

So this has been a long time coming but this year I’ll be taking a long hiatus. This is something I’ve wanted to do for years but I can’t put it off any longer due to how bad my wrist pain was in 2024. I’m feeling incredibly burnt out as well and my turn around times growing longer and longer is a very clear sign of it. It also means I’ve had a growing anxiety that if I continue at this pace I will end up doing permanent damage to my body, if I haven’t already. Creating art is the one thing I know I want to do for the rest of my life, be that drawing for myself or helping other people see their visions come to life, and I don’t want to put that at risk.  

So I can’t put my hiatus off any longer and I’m making this year the start. If you are still waiting on a commission from me, don’t worry! I am going to keep working on them and my official hiatus time won’t start until everything has been finished up. I’m estimating April to May to get everything cleared off the table since I’m going to work at a steady pace. Character sheet commissions are going to remain open, they are not in high demand and I can put them in a queue and so should anyone have interest in one during my hiatus, it could be something I pick up when I need the extra cash. However all other types of commissions are going to be unavailable for the foreseeable future. 

I am aiming for a 6 month long hiatus at the least. If I can go longer I will aim for a full year break. Freelance and commission work has been my main source of income for over 10 years now, so during this time I may also look into getting a part time job so I don't have to rely so heavily on art, which will also affect how much I’ll be able to take on in the future. I’m not quitting art during this hiatus, I do want to keep drawing and creating! But I will be working at a slower pace, creating for myself, experimenting and trying other projects. I also have more merch ideas on the list to work on! I’ve got some plush designs I want to have made,namely a new Zenos plush that will have doll fiber hair that can be brushed and styled.

I will also design more tag style keychains with more XIV characters (like the Scions and other major NPCs), since people have really liked those a lot! I’ll also plan out some other ideas and maybe design some original design plushies or other merch. We’ll see!

If anyone enjoys my work and wants to help support me during my hiatus, please check out my available merch. I have prints on INPRNT, and a variety of items on Ko-Fi (limited prints, artbooks both physical and digital, keychains, stickers, etc.), I also have a patreon where I post process videos of illustrations. You can also drop donations of my Ko-Fi. I will be adding a goal that I’ll set at a high amount I don't expect to reach, just because I personally want a visual of donations or purchases during my break. Even small donations would mean a lot. If only 10% of my followers on twitter or tumblr bought a single Ko-Fi donation, it would be a substantial amount of money. I say this not to guilt folks into donating, but to point out small donations can still have a lot of power. And so I appreciate any support at all!

Thank you so much if you read this entire message. It means a lot to me and I hope a good long break means when I’m  able to get back to commission and freelance I’ll approach them with much more vigor and skill!

[whatifitis]

♡ It's time to go - FC 43 ♡

Summary: it's go time. franco's final race in f1 for the foreseeable future. you don't want to say goodbye, but is it really goodbye?

Author's Note: i'm tired and sad and i already miss him

WC: 1911

CW: angst? fluff? girl idk what this fic is anymore, mentions of his DNF eheh, happy ending 😚

You remember when you saw his face not long ago. You had met him at an F3 event and the two of you immediately hit it off and became so close in such a short amount of time. He was your favorite person and when you found out he was moving up to F1, you nearly broke glass with your scream. 

For months, the two of you raced with, and against each other. There were ups and downs but you wouldn’t change it for the world. It was amazing, being able to go to work together and see each other all the time. The two of you were always spending time together in the paddock. For a minute, the world seemed so simple. But it’s gonna be over soon. 

It’s the day of the final race of the season in Abu Dhabi, the final race with Franco, for god knows how long. Neither of you were ready to say goodbye. Sure, you would see each other every so often, but it wasn’t going to be the same. He wasn’t gonna be at every race with you, he wasn’t gonna be on track with you, he wasn’t going to be there after every race to walk you home. 

You had already put on your race suit and made your way to the Williams garage to see Franco before heading over to your garage. When you arrived, you were greeted by a few of the mechanics and engineers. Across the room, you spotted Franco as he was going over some numbers for the race. 

He felt you watching him, looking up and smiling when he saw you. Making his way over to you, he asked what you were doing there. “Just saying hi and good luck today. Also wanted to say I’m gonna miss you on the track. It’s been fun driving against you these past few months.” you say. 

“It’s been a pleasure being able to share the track with you, y/n. I’m going to miss you as well. I’m not sure what’s in store for me but I do know that I don’t want this to be the last time I see you.”

You can’t help but blush at his words. You truly felt like Franco was one of the best things to happen to you. In such a short amount of time, he’s taught you so much and you’re the person you are today, because of him. 

“Let’s make a deal. We promise to see each other at least once a month. I don’t want you to disappear, Fran.” 

“I like that deal. And, I’m not afraid to disappear. My dream was always to make it to Formula 1, and I made it. The one thing I wanted all my life was all mine for a short time. But now it’s time for me to go. If I don’t get the chance to come back to Formula 1 then so be it. The birds will still sing and the leaves will still die. Nothing will change.”

“Everything’s going to change. Who’s gonna make the whole grid laugh? Who’s gonna yap everyone’s ear off? Who’s gonna flirt with all the interviewers?” you ask, laughing to try and prevent the tears from rolling, “Who’s gonna be there to hold my hand and tell me it’s gonna be okay when things go to shit? Who’s gonna put a smile on my face everyday? I don’t want my favorite person to leave.” your tears are falling now. 

Franco’s face falls when he sees how much love you hold for him, he quickly pulls you into a hug that makes you grab onto him so tight so that he doesn’t slip through your fingers. 

“Don’t worry. I know I’ll see you again. You’re gonna win races, beat the competition out of the water. And I’ll still be here by your side, even if it’s not physically. We’re gonna call and text all the time, you’re gonna keep me updated on all the drama in the paddock, especially the drama between George and Max. And you’re gonna become a champion. Okay?” he says, rubbing his hand up and down your back to try and help you calm the tears. 

“You changed my life, Franco. I couldn’t have asked for a better friend in the paddock, or in general. Please don’t be a stranger.” “I won’t. I’m not going anywhere. You’re the greatest thing in my life, butterfly. I don’t think I can live without you now that I know what it’s like to have you here.”

“You’ll make me cry when it comes to an end.” The tears are fully streaming down your face now. Your heart aches not knowing when you’ll be able to race with him again. You breathe him in and fight the tears. 

Alex clears his throat behind the two of you, trying to get your attention. The two of you pull apart and wipe away the tears, looking at Alex as he stands there awkwardly, “Just wanted to let you guys know we have to get ready to get in the cars soon. Bye.” he says, walking away with a small wave. 

Franco and you shared a little laugh before looking at each other and nodding your heads. You reach a hand out for Franco to shake, and he does. “One last time.” you say. 

“One last time.”

-=+=-

Everyone fought hard on the track today. Unfortunately, your engineer told you that Franco had to retire the car during the race. When you heard those words, you just shook your head in disappointment. You were insanely proud of Franco and of how far he’s come, but he got stuck with an awful car. His last race shouldn’t have ended like that. 

But like your engineer said, there was nothing you could do. All you could do now was keep pushing and try and score points for the team. You overtook some cars and now you were approaching the end. You were 2 seconds behind Charles and you were pushing the car to the limit. You kept inching closer and closer to Charles and when you entered a DRS zone, you and Charles fought hard. You pushed and pushed until you finally made it. You ended the race in P3. 

“Congrats, P3. You did amazing this season,  y/n. I’m proud of what we’ve done this season and can’t wait to go again next year. Until then, it’s been a pleasure. Thank you.” you hear through your radio. Your engineer has been amazing through the years and has helped you in tremendous ways. 

“Thanks, man. This season was hectic and tough but we pulled through. Thank you to the team, the engineers and mechanics who have spent countless hours making the car what it is. They did an amazing job and I’m thankful. Here’s to next year.” you say as you make your way to parking your car. 

You get out of the car and are immediately greeted by Carlos and Lando, all of you congratulating each other on everything. You saw your team on the side and ran to hug and high-five them and give them a few more thanks. You’re going down the line when you spot Franco there, absolutely shouting his head off. 

Immediately, you run to him and hug him. You can barely hear him through your helmet and the cheers all around but you make out his words, “I’m so proud of you. This isn’t the end, yeah?”

“Yeah, never the end.” 

You let go and make your way to the cool down room and prepare for the podium. 

When you are called out for the podium, you walk out and smile wide. You’re proud of yourself and the team that helped get you here. You stand tall and look at your team, beaming with pride. They’re all watching you, watching how you hold your head up high despite all the shit that gets thrown at you. In the middle of the crowd, you can see Franco. He’s still cheering for you and you see him scream “That’s my girl.” Causing everyone to turn their heads in confusion. You couldn’t help but laugh at the scene as Franco is giving no fucks and keeps smiling up at you. 

After the podium celebration and post-race interview, you made your way to your garage and you were engulfed with hugs and cheers from the crew. Horner walked up to you and thanked you for the season and that he’s excited for next year. After a ton of pictures, you were able to get a minute to breathe and change out of your race suit. 

You had just finished putting on your shoes when you heard a knock on the door. You open the door and are greeted by a happy Franco. “Hi” 

“Hi, come in.” you say as you open the door wider for him. “What are you doing here? I thought you’d be in the Williams garage right now.”

“I was in there but I wanted to come see you for a minute. There’s something I wanted to talk to you about.”

“Oh,” your anxiety begins to take over, it’s written all over your face and Franco spots it. 

“Oh no, don’t worry. It’s nothing bad. It’s just something I’ve been thinking about. I, um, I have something to confess. Over the time we’ve known each other, I’ve started to notice how happy you make me. I have been too scared to admit it, to you, to myself, but this feeling is something that I want to keep chasing, feeding it more and more every time I look at you, every time I hear your laugh or make your cheeks blush. I was way too scared to admit it, but I want more than to just race by your side on the track. I want to be by your side in life, I want to share my days and every moment with you. I don’t know if you feel the same, but I would be stupid to continue to ignore what I feel, because I’ve never felt something as strong as the love that wraps around my heart whenever I am with you. It’s like you’ve taken over my mind. I wanna tell the whole world about you.”

You could feel tears brimming your eyes, as if you haven’t cried enough today. You grab his hands, feeling his soft touch on yours. Eyes meeting as you smile up at him. Without a word, you lean in and kiss him softly. Your hearts are leaping in a giddy whirl. He’s frozen at first, until he lets in, realizing that he truly loves you so. 

When you pull apart, Franco is left breathless. He can���t believe that just happened. He finally got the girl of his dreams? 

You wrap your arms around him and pull him close to you, “I hope you know there’s no chance I’m ever letting you go, now that I have you. You’re stuck with me for life. We’ll grow old together, and then if we turn into a tree, I’ll be the leaves.”

“There’s no one I’d rather spend eternity with. You’re the number one girl in my eyes and nothing will ever change that. I’m in love with you and it’s a feeling I want to show.” 

It was moments like these that reminds you that sometimes, the heart races faster than the car. 

[thefandomsfervent]

Personal Pigments Viktor x Reader (Part 2) - Burnt Umber

Find the premise and first part of the fix here. Find my imagine that inspired it here. Thank you for reading <3

╔═*✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.*.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.*.·:·.✧-✦-✧.·:·.*.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.*.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧*═╗

An enforcer led you down the long hallway. Your footsteps echo out of time with his. You were supposed to have met with the Dean two hours ago but Piltover’s council had a meeting that ran long. You can’t imagine the stress of all those titles, yet it still irks you that he barely spoke to you before passing you off to an enforcer promising to “be there in the turn of a cog.” Something about the enforcer’s gruff sigh tells you he must say that a lot. The air of the hallways seems still, and you can’t tell if your nervousness is what puts an eerie feeling on your walk or the lack of people. For a city of progress, you figured the Academy would have more bustling inside the walls. But you do appreciate the peace, hands tracing the spine of your portfolio as you follow alongside the man in blue. 

“Is it usually this empty?” You chance the question.

“Mm, it’s break season ma’am. You’ll see more people in a couple weeks.” Right. This was technically a school. Students would be making up most of the populace. 

“Do you enjoy the quiet?” Small talk attempted.

“I do.” The same sigh he let out in the Professor’s company follows the two words. Small talk denied. 

You hum in acknowledgment, tightening your grip on your portfolio. The awkward silence that follows is broken up by sounds of boots on tile, someone ahead of you. Another enforcer by the looks of it, she glances at you before giving your guide a terse nod. He returns the gesture before slowing his pace in front of a door. He waves his hand towards it and starts walking away. 

“Shouldn’t we wait for the Dean?” Mostly you just didn’t want to be left alone in this huge building for another hour if the Dean loses track of time again. Another sigh, much more exasperated than the last two. He turns around to face you, annoyance on his face. 

“The Dean,” he practically hisses the word, “will be here eventually. Do not wander, just wait here.”

You just nod as he turns around again. Damned enforcers. This day is off to a wonderful start. He goes around a corner a dozen feet away and you drop your shoulders. You didn’t realize that your jaw was clenched either, opening your mouth to unflex the muscle. After waiting about ten minutes and not seeing anyone the annoyance of the day settles in your feet. You’ve kept an eye on either end of the hallway and go to lean against the wall when you realize the lab door isn’t fully shut. The locks are half jutting out, keeping one door barely propped open. You knock on it, hoping someone was in there. For company to pass time with, or to at least introduce yourself to the duo you were hoping to spend the foreseeable future with. 

“Anyone in there?” You say against the crack in the door. Nothing. The doors are heavy though, and you half wonder if anyone could even hear you. Tucking your portfolio under one arm you reach for the handle and give it a tug. Like it takes convincing, it takes a moment before it moves. 

“Hello?” Your voice isn’t loud but it startles the man inside, a head of fluffy brown whipping up from his work.

“Who are you?” The man is sitting at a desk and abruptly stands, reaching for a cane propped up next to him. 

Viktor hears those heavy doors open, and he’s expecting Jayce. Heimerdinger or even Councilor Medarda would have been expected over this person in front of him. You don’t have time to give him a reply before a voice answers. 

“This is Miss L/N. It seems I’ve lost track of this particular project, but she’ll be here to work with you boys.” Heimerdinger shuffles in behind you and Jayce behind him. 

“What? With all due respect Professor we don’t need more minds for Hextech. Viktor and I have it covered.” He walks past you and stands next to Viktor. The lithe man nods curtly.  

“You misunderstand me, she is here in accordance with a collaborative project with the Arts Institute.” The yordle turns to face you. “I am sorry my dear, I was supposed to have briefed them days ago, but as you know a scientist’s mind can be full of conclusions just waiting to be reached. We do not always fully think about the paths to get there.” He gives the two men a knowing look and you offer a small smile in return. “Perhaps you could explain it better.” He gestures to your portfolio still tucked under your arm. 

“Yes, I, uh,” You reach for it, fingers undoing the string that keeps it shut. “Your Hextech invention has sparked a lot of conversations across Academia as I’m sure you know. So much that it reached the Arts Institute. It seems that the Academy has been looking for a new art hall, several of my peers are meeting with your best students and researchers here.” You gesture to a relatively clean table with a “May I?” 

Viktor just looks at you but Jayce nods and Heimerdinger finds a step ladder to stand on. You begin to remove several papers from the carrier you’ve brought with you. A few blueprints of a new art hall, some letters from the Academy and from the Arts Institute, and finally some of your work. 

“The idea is the artists will make entirely new pieces for the gallery hall that’s to be unveiled at an eventual Progress Day, to do that we stay close with the scientists. It’s thought of as both an experiment and a hopefully beneficial relationship.” Viktor steps closer, cane tapping lightly on the tile of the lab floor. He picks up one the blueprints, his amber eyes scanning them over before handing them to Jayce. 

“And what exactly about this relationship would be beneficial?” He asks, he is looking over the letters now. It doesn’t go unnoticed by you that he hasn’t even looked at the art you’ve brought with you, or really you for that matter. Jayce is still looking over the blueprints when you answer Viktor.

“Mixing the Arts and Sciences, new ideas for both groups? On a larger level it helps both schools with funding and connections. It can help smaller artists get out there, being in an Academy art hall is huge and can get them connections to very profitable commissions and galleries. As for you inventors, it can memorialize you and your accomplishments. It gives your work a face! Er, well, faces in this case.”

“We have no need for this,” he’s shaking his head. ‘Hextech is to better lives, not be some glorified art project.” he flicks the corner of a letter. The dismissal stings, but you know something he doesn’t. 

“I am sorry my boys, but it is a non negotiable! Hextech may be to better lives, but it has caught a lot of attention. This is only the first step to controlling its image in a public way. You boys will be doing more dinners and speeches and galas and the like. It comes with the territory, trust me.” You notice he gesticulates a lot, and it's honestly endearing. His small fur covered hands moving around with one finger in the air. 

“The sentiment is appreciated, Professor, but what does Art have to do with us or Hextech.” Jayce asks as he puts the blueprints down and takes the letters from Viktor’s hands. 

“Art and Science have always mixed!” You do your best to subdue the frustration rising in your chest. “Take fractals, golden ratio, your craftsmanship starts with craftsmen. Surgeons learned how to create sturdier and safer stitches from fiber artists. If what the Dean has told me is true, you both should know better than anyone that sometimes an extra perspective is all that it takes for an idea to shine.” Heimerdinger gestures to your work with both hands, nodding his head encouragingly. When they both start looking at the pictures of your larger paintings and the smaller scale sketches on the table you try to keep speaking with the same confidence. 

“As you may have read in the letters, it’ll also be good to secure you more investors. You guys are going to need promotional materials as well. Not everyone who wants a piece of your pie can make the journey to Piltover but they want some of it regardless. It can be expensive trying to make progress, adding your faces or prettying up proposals can help secure that. Council support is one thing, but you also need the support of people.” 

They still haven’t said anything, just sharing looks as they spread the images out on the table.

You wring your hands together behind your back. This is stressful, and you’d like to go back to the institute soon. “To be honest with you, I’m one of several candidates to do your painting. If you don’t like my work, my style, what have you, I’ll leave. But someone else will be back to bother you two at some point about it.” 

A silent beat passes, and you’re wondering if the walk here was even worth it. Eventually they both lift their heads from the table and Heimerdinger leans towards them expectantly. You try not to do the same. Jayce looks at Viktor and the pale man gives a simple nod. He turns to you, and what he says has you sighing in relief. 

“What do you need from us?"

╚═*✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.*.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.*.·:·.✧-✦-✧.·:·.*.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.*.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧*═╝

---------------.·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ Part 1-.-Part 3.·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .----------------

------------‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊ ♡ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙· Master Fic List *̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ♡ ‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊--------------

[what-even-is-thiss]

so are you going to vote for biden?

Yes I am because I don’t want to vote for trump. And if you sent me this ask to send me a follow-up ask with something along the lines of “oh so you support genocide then?” No I do not but I do firmly believe that trump would make the situation over in Gaza and Ukraine and China and everywhere else we’ve got our fingers in even worse. He already did that while he was President. He made stable situations go unstable. He made our relationship with several countries go even more sour than they already are. And I’m also not putting up with trump potentially appointing more Supreme Court judges and ruining all of our lives for the next 50 years. I’m voting for the least bad option that has a chance of winning. And if you can’t see why I’m focusing on harm reduction I doubt you’re looking at the whole picture. Besides, Biden has done some good things. That doesn’t cancel out the bad things, but I’d also rather keep his good policies in place for as long as possible. And for the foreseeable future the only way to do that is to keep him in office even if I’d rather have somebody else.

Tbh I’m never gonna 100% like any candidate for President because the sort of people who would willingly take on that much power and make the kinds of tough decisions presidents have to make are not the sort of people I’d actually want to have that job but they’re also the only people that are going to be doing that job so I’ll have to pick the least bad one.

Also, President isn’t the only thing on the ballot in November. I’m not exactly sure where I’ll be living in November because I’m job searching right now but wherever I end up I’ll also be voting with that same mindset for everything else. Pick the least bad option. Because that’s how democracy works. I’m not abstaining from democracy just because my country is doing bad things. My country is always doing bad things. If liberals and progressives only vote when all available options are good then they’ll never vote and conservatives and fascists will run this country and that’s just how it is. I’d rather have a guy that’s not doing the best job on the international relations front than give the nuclear codes back to Don.

[pit-and-the-pen]

I'll Crawl Home to Her- Chapter 2

Sorry this update took a little longer, I had some personal stuff going on and my work schedule was pretty packed this week.

Also, this is a fix-it fic. It'll be following the events of the whole series so buckle in y'all. Also also, I shit on Tamlin a lot in these next chapters but it has a purpose I promise!

Chapter warnings: Warnings: Mention of abuse/ trauma, one comment about weight in terms of said said abuse , minor blood

WC: 9.6K

Read the previous parts here

[prologue] [chapter 1]

Next Part [here]

“Rhys is the most handsome High Lord.” I read line after line of similar words. I rolled my eyes at my brother's antics. 

“He’s sure laying it on thick.” I say as I sat down next to Feyre. She looks up from her writing and gives me a guarded laugh. 

“At least I’m entertaining.” She huffs out. 

“I can help you too, if you want. Give you a break from him.” She raises her eyebrow at me, studying me with a look that made me want to sink in on myself. 

“Why?” She asks sharply  

I willed my temper down. “Because despite what Tamlin might tell you, we’re not evil,” I spit out at her, she doesn’t flinch even slightly at the venom in my voice. “And you’re going to be here once a month for the foreseeable future. I’d like us to at least tolerate each other. Plus, it would piss off my brother.” Her eyes shone with mischief.

“You should have started with that.” And that was that. I pushed Rhys’ papers to the side and picked out a few books that had been my favorite. The plots are interesting enough to make up for the basic words used. Feyre caught on fairly easily. She could recognize almost all of the basic words but struggled to read them out loud. Not fully understanding how the sounds mashed together. We sat and read, and then when that got to be too much for her we just started talking. It was nothing deep, not really gossip either. Just casual words thrown back and forth until she asks out of the blue. “What’s the deal with Tamlin and Rhys?” I froze into stillness only fae possessed. Sensing my discomfort she backtracked. “You don’t have to tell me. I shouldn’t have asked.” Her voice held a little edge of fear. I forced my shoulders to relax. 

“No, you have every right to ask. It’s…complicated. You’re walking into centuries old distrust and unfortunately, are caught in the middle.” It wasn’t fair to her to be caught in all of this old shit. That was our baggage and I could see it was affecting her but she pressed on.

“But why do they hate each other so much?”

“I’m not the best person to ask.” She narrowed her eyes at my non-answer. I sighed. “We’ve both done some terrible things to each other's courts, the wounds run deep and that’s all I’ll tell you.”

“Why?” She would not let up. 

“Because you love Tamlin. And I don’t want you to think I’m trying to ruin whatever picture you have of him.” That really seemed to pique her curiosity. 

“You had a different experience with him?” It felt like she had punched me in the stomach. No. That’s the problem, I had the exact same experience with him and I ended up just as broken as I can see you’re becoming. 

“That’s not a story for today.” I tried to keep the shake out of my voice and maybe it was that, or the fear I know I couldn’t keep off of my face that made her drop the subject with a small, “okay”. 

It was lunch time before we decided to take a break.  “Do you want to eat here or go out with the others?” 

“Rhys will just pull me out if I don’t.” 

“My brother can fuck off. What do you want to do?” I saw a ghost of a smile twitch across her face. So we ate in the library. I left only long enough to stack up two plates full of food. Rhys took in the amount of food I was grabbing, 

“Hungry today?” I only stuck my tongue out at him and walked back out of the room. 

Rhys joined us a little after lunch. If he was surprised to still see me in here, he didn’t let it show. I didn’t leave until Feyre told me she was okay with me doing so. 

It was probably overkill to be so protective of her, Rhys was the last person who would ever try to hurt her or anything like that but she was still uneasy around him. She hid it well with the sheer disdain she showed him but I could tell from the rigidness of her shoulders and that slight edge in her voice. But there was also something else there that I couldn’t put my finger on. 

Feyre had stayed in the library long after their meeting. I found her hunched over another book, finger slowly tracing over the words. She hardly looked up as I placed another plate of food in front of her and went to walk out of the room. She didn’t call after me and I was okay with that. Scared she might start another round of questions. 

I didn’t see much of her after that. So I traveled back and forth between Velaris. Spending half my time at the manor and the other half actually doing my job as researcher. I really didn’t have to work but it gave me something to fill up my days. Before Amarantha I spent most of my time helping Cassian manage the Illyrians, from the background of course. Being the High Lords sister did not save me from their views on females. So I only showed up when necessary, Azriel and Cassian always following behind me. They learned fast enough to keep their tongues in check if they wanted to keep them in their mouths. 

Currently I was looking at old maps of Prythian. Combining through records for landscapes and t river patterns. Where the boundaries have shifted over time. And then came the daunting task of trying to pick out recountings of the old war. Figuring out who does best with what court. Prepping for the outcome we were all dreading, another war with Hybern. 

“I don’t understand what you’re trying to get from these books.” Cassian said, absently flipping through the large leather bound book I had just placed to the side. 

“Anything. Weakness, strengths, strategies, gods, anything.” I said leaning back. I knew I had to take a break, when I closed my eyes I could still see the words swirling in the blackness behind my eyelids. I took a deep breath and went to look at the giant map I had covered my desk with. Pins and markers to recount every movement during the last war. 

“Do you really think that it’s going to help?” I know he wasn’t trying to be rude. His voice was soft when he asked and my shoulders sunk in slightly. 

“I don’t know. But if it does…” He nodded in understanding. Azriel knocked lightly on the door, making both Cas and I jump. He had learned to knock now after he had to dodge out of the way of the book I had launched at him last week. I still haven't reaccustomed myself to how quiet his footsteps could be. A skill I had once prided myself on, I had even been able to pick up on those silent footsteps and find him before he wanted to be seen. 

“Just wanted to remind you two to eat.” He looked at the books strewn across the table, taking note of the one Cassian was still flipping through, playing with truly. “I know how you can get when you’re focused. Time for food.” He smiled at the shy look I gave him from being called out. Many times he had to drag me out of my office when I really got into something. His smile made me think he was remembering those times too. 

“If we go, will you two stop making eyes at each other?” Cassian spoke up, making me break away from Azriel’s stare. 

“We were not.” I responded, trying to tame the blush in my cheeks. Get it together. I told myself as I forced myself to turn to Cas. His eye roll was the only answer I got. Azriel had already started walking down the hall and I slapped Cassian on the arm.

“You’re so annoying sometimes Cas.”

“And you love me for it.” He gave me a loud, wet peck on the cheek and gave a full head-thrown-back laugh when I made a big show of wiping it off. 

I didn't return to the other house that night. Opting to stay with my friends. One of whom, Cassian, had gone into the wine cellar and returned with his arms almost full of the expensive bottles. I just laughed as he shot me a wink. I blew him a kiss back as I settled down on the couch besides Mor. 

We didn’t bother getting glasses, passing the bottles around while we talked about absolutely nothing, acting like we had during our teenage years. It was later in the night before Rhys appeared in the living room. He took one look at all of us and rolled his eyes before he swiped the bottle out of my hand and brought it to his lips. 

Mor and I were fully supporting each other's weight on the couch, I couldn’t tell who was leaning against who more but our giggles started to get louder and more frequent. She whispered to me so quietly I had to strain to hear her. “Stop staring at him.” And we fell into another fit of giggles.

She was right though, everytime Azriel talked I could feel how my eyes stayed locked on him. Reminding myself to breathe when he pulled the bottle to his lips. I pushed off of Mor and went to stand up, wobbling slightly as my feet touched the ground. Azriel made a move like he was going to catch me if I took a face first dive on the carpet but when I steadied myself, he moved back. It happened so fast I wonder if I imagined it.

“I think it’s bedtime.” I said, mouth feeling mushy as the words came out. Mor laughed again and I turned to face her and gave her a rude gesture. I offered that same hand to pull her up to her feet and she pouted before taking it. Everyone seemed to get the hint that it was late so all of us in our various drunken states started the climb up the stairs to our rooms. Good nights thrown through the hallways, Cassian all but screaming it to make sure Mor and I heard him. The sound made us flinch before laughing again as I closed the door to my room. 

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

Before I knew it Feyre’s week was officially up. She had demanded to be brought back home and I fought down the biting comments I wanted to make as Rhys agreed. I stepped besides the pair and she looked over to me for a brief second before pretending that neither of us existed. 

“You don’t have to come with me. Rhys spoke into my mind and replied with a shake of my head. I could do this for Feyre. Despite every part of my body screaming at me for bringing her back to the Spring court, if she could be brave then so could I. He sighed at my stubbornness but knew that there was no changing my mind. 

We weren’t going far. Simply dropping her at the border of spring and summer and making sure she got into the manor. I could manage that. Yet as we were getting ready to winnow in, I felt my hands go clammy. I remember me saying I’ll never go back there willingly.

The smell was the first thing that hit me. The overwhelming floral scent. I could smell the roses from the outside of the manor this far away, their sheer number coating the air with a smell that threatened to suffocate me on the spot. 

“Goodbye, Feyre.” She had already started walking before he finished speaking, not sparing so much as a glance back to us. So we stood and watched her retreating figure until those wooden doors closed behind her. That was that. 

We didn’t return to Hewn city, instead winnowing outside the townhome. 

Rhys didn’t stay to greet our friends. Instead, he all but ran up the stairs to either go to his study or his room. Everyone gave me a tentative look before I shrugged and sprawled out on the couch besides Azriel. 

He didn’t try to pull away from me. Instead, he lifted his hands from their spot on his lap. His way of telling me I could place my legs up so I didn’t have to sit awkwardly to avoid his wings. I did and I ignored how happy that little gesture made me. Over the last few weeks he seemed to be able to handle being around me again.

Cassian started rapid firing questions at me. What is she like? She threw what at Rhys? Anything for scraps of what their brother's mate was actually like. Sure they had gotten the story of her trials but this was different, getting to know who she actually was. Cassian seemed pleased to know she was still just as head strong. “Maybe someone will finally humble him a little.” He chuckled 

 Rhys spoke up as he entered the room. “Who’s humbling who?” He picked at an invisible piece of lint on his shoulder. The only sign of how upset sending Feyre back had made him. 

Cassian didn’t answer but instead asked “Did she really throw a shoe at you?” He laughed when Rhys shot me a dirty look. Answering the question for him. “I want to meet her.” Cassian said and I swore he was almost pouting. 

Rhys sighed, “And have you scare her off.” Cassian looked hurt so Rhys added, “Let her get more adjusted to me before we add all of this into the mix. Besides, she cannot see Velaris. Not when…” not when she came back to Tamlin. Not when she could still spill every little secret of ours to one of our biggest enemies. 

Cas looked like he wanted to argue but only said “Princess gets to see her.” 

“Because I have a winning personality.” I smiled at him and he launched one of the small pillows from his chair at me. I managed to deflect it but as it bounced off my arm it hit Azriel square in the face. I bit down my laughter at his faux outraged face. He threw it back and before I knew it, they were yelling at each other, well Cas was yelling and Azriel was trying his hardest not to laugh.Sensing a fight was emanate, I pushed off of Azriel and spoke loudly over the two Illyrian males. 

“Outside if you’re going to fight.” Even Armen, who had stalked into the room around as Rhys laughed at that. 

Cassian turned to me, his temper still flaring. “We’re not dogs.” 

“Last time you both fought in the house, I was cleaning up glass for a week.” I raised an eyebrow at him, challenging him to say otherwise. 

Azriel spared Cassian from having to respond. “C’mon.” He said, pulling Cassian to what I could only assume was the training ring. 

“I forgot how much you look like Rhys when you get bossy.” Cassian said as he was pulled from the room. And my responding gesture made the rest of the room go up in laughs. Rhys followed them out. Probably needing to get rid of his own tension and Armen had snuck back into the research room. 

I didn’t have it in me to just stare at maps all day long, regardless of knowing how much I needed to. So I just stayed in the living room, a random book from the shelf pulled onto my lap. 

Rhys came back first, hair only slightly disheveled, wings out proudly. “Once I get out of the bath, it’s time for your training.” I huffed and he could sense I was about to argue with him. “Cassian and Azriel told me you can’t use your powers.” Traitors. “So we’re going to figure out what the hel is wrong.” 

Less than an hour later I was sitting in Rhys’ study. A small candle flickering in front of me, taunting me to snuff it out. I pulled and pulled for any of the small dark tendrils to do so but found nothing. Sweat was beginning to form on my brow with how hard I was concentrating. 

Rhys huffed in frustration at my lack of progress. “It was easier teaching Feyre to read.” 

“Then by all means, go back to that. I’d love to see her throw another shoe at you.” I bit back at him and he just rolled his eyes. 

“Try again.” He went right back to business, ignoring my statement. I really did try. I Have been trying. That rich darkness that normally lingered under my skin seemed like it was hidden behind a wall. Just out of my grasp, so close I could almost taste it, almost touch it. I yelped as I reached out towards it. Pain flickering through my body as if it had burned me. Rhys’ hand on my shoulder snapped me out of whatever had happened. Sweat broke across my skin and I flinched as I felt my magic fight against the wall inside my head. 

“What’s happening?” I spoke to my brother. He just stared at me before I felt a phantom knock at my mental shields. I forced them open and almost screamed at the pain that flooded through me. I knew the moment he found it. Felt that sickening thread of magic that never released when the spell broke for the other high lords. Rhys’ presence in my head retreated and we could only look at each other. No words to be found between us. 

“Fuck.” The first word he uttered and I somehow found it in myself to laugh. 

“That bad?” 

“Good news is there’s not a physical block. No magic stopping you.” So why did he still look like death froze over? “Bad news, you’re the block.” 

“Go on?” 

“I don’t fully know but it looks like your magic is being tied up by your own magic.” 

“So, you’re saying. I’m the problem?”

“I’ve been saying that your whole life but yes, especially in this case.” He teased, trying to lighten the new tension in the air. I bite 

“Well then that simply means you’re going to be stuck with me a lot more. That or I go to Helion.” He rolled his eyes at the mention of the other high lord, one who has been trying for the last few centuries to get me into his bed. 

“Maybe.” shit. It must be serious if he’s actually willing to let Helion help. “Let’s hope it doesn’t come down to that.” He says solemnly and points back to the candle. I stare at him for a moment before sighing and trying to cover the light again. 

We sit as I try again and again and again. Nothing besides a small puff of black smoke to let us know that I’m even trying. Right as I’m about to say something I see Rhys flinch and his eyes flare with anger. Only not at me, his eyes look far away as that anger homes in on whatever must have made his shoulders tense. 

I see his eyes come back into focus and I don’t even have to ask before he’s spilling. “He hurt her.” I don’t need him to say who. “I can tell it’s nothing serious but I got nothing but pure fear from her.” Rhys had already explained that the bargain amplified the usual effects of the mating bond. That he could sometimes get whiffs of any strong emotion from Feyre. Fear, anger, mostly fear but as her nightmares have started to fade I haven't heard much about it. My stomach curls and I try to will my hands to not shake as my mind drifts to the endless possibilities of what could have happened. 

“It’ll be okay. She’s strong.” The words felt wrong in my mouth and Rhys said the very thing I had been thinking.

“You were strong.” 

“Well you can’t very well march in there and get her.” I saw the look on his face. “You can’t, we can’t. And she still doesn’t want us. Unless it feels like that first time…” He shook his head. So not as bad. Still bad, still awful enough for her to send fear down the bond but not bad enough that Rhys could only hear her screaming for someone to get her out of there. So we both let it go, ignored the thoughts that told every part of us to go help this girl from whatever Tamlin was inflicting. But even I knew that Tamlin’s anger comes from his love. That anger so wrapped in fear that something will happen that he almost wills those incidents into existence. 

We spend hours trying to break whatever block is in my head until I’m grumpy and all but biting his head off at every little comment he makes. He bites right back at me and I know there's no point in this anymore, both of us too on edge to do anything productive. Throwing his hands up in surrender he doesn’t stop me as I storm out of his study. I run head first into Azriel on my way to my room, his hands resting on my arms so I don’t topple over. 

“Training went that well.” He says with a small chuckle. The noise sends a low growl from my throat and he takes his hands off of me. “We’ll figure this out.” He says and I continue my path to my room, not staying long enough to see the concern in his eyes. 

I was still grumpy by the time that dinner rolled around but I managed to pull myself out of bed. My head is pounding from the strain and whatever Rhys did inside my mind. I throw on the first thing I find, still in my thin nightgown I pulled on after my bath, and head down to dinner. I don’t say much and not even Cassian tries to cheer me up, all he does is remind me that I’m joining them for training in the morning. I don’t respond with anything other than stabbing the chicken on my plate with extra force. 

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

I struck the center of the dummy and looked over for Cassian for any semblance of approval. He gave me a bored look and I stomped over to the stupid thing and pulled all three of the daggers out of it. Cas wanted me to get back up to snuff with long range before he put a sword in my hand again. I had never needed the sword that I kept strapped to my back on the missions I would accompany Azriel on, always having my powers to stop anyone from getting that close in the first place. Between Azriel shadows and my blanket of darkness, very rarely did we ever need anything more than truth teller. 

I grunted in frustration as the sharp metal flew through my fingers time after time, all of them hitting the center of the target. 

“Fuck this Cas, I did the warm ups, I did the exercises. Let me fight.” I needed to do something more than this. If I couldn’t use my powers, if they never came back, I needed to be useful. In no world would I just sit around and let my friends risk death while I sat around playing with my maps. Cassian must have heard the desperation in my voice because he agreed. 

We circled each other and I got a rare glimpse of Cassian with no restraint. This was the war general that scared people just by being on the battlefield. I tried not to let the frision of fear show as he surveyed every inch of me, seemingly reading my body language like I was screaming my next moves at him. I didn’t stand a chance. His fist made contact with my nose before I could turn out of the way and I fell to the ground. My hand went up and when I pulled it back, my fingers were sticky with my blood. Cassian was instantly in front of me, mumbling out apologies. I held up my hand to stop him from talking. 

“Cassian.” A stern voice called out as I ran my hand along my nose again, feeling for any breaks. “What did you do to her?” Azriel’s voice was full of concern as he knelt besides Cassian. 

“Alright bat brains. I’m not dying,” I started to stand up and they both reached out their hands to help me up, I swatted them away and brushed off the dust on my pants. “It’s not the first time I’ve been too slow before, and it’s not going to be the last.” They both stared at me and I rolled my eyes. “C’mon. I still have to beat you Cas.” He shook his head laughing and Azriel shot him a glare. 

Cassian, never one to back down from a challenge, and never one to miss an opportunity to piss off Azriel, agreed to go back into the ring with me. He coached me through it this time, slowing down his punches to explain how to predict them and block them. All things that I knew but just needed more practice. By the end of the hour I was covered in sweat but I was able to block him without his guidance. Azriel didn’t leave either, hanging back to watch, adding his own little tips and tricks to help me get some advantage over Cassian but I still couldn’t get him to budge an inch. 

“Do you want to get in with her then?” Cassian shouted to Azriel as he continued to assist me from the side lines. I made a motion for Cassian to stop as I tried to catch my breath. Placing my hands on my knees and sucking in screaming breaths. 

“I think I’m done.” I panted out.

“If you wanted me to make you breathless princess, all you had to do was ask.” He winked and tossed a canteen full of water over to me. I drank half of it in one long gulp and forced myself to stand up straight. My muscles were already crying out in protest. Tomorrow was going to suck for sure. 

The three of us walked back up to the house, laughing and joking and I felt proud of the progress I was making. Even if the dried blood still on my hands might have suggested otherwise. 

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

A month went by so fast, I had to tick off the days to make sure I was right.I woke up to Rhys preparing to collect Feyre from the spring court again. Rhys didn’t ask me to go with him this time, after that last flood of emotions he knew he would have a hard time containing himself let alone both of us. 

I was already waiting at the house for when they got back, ready to play mediator if need be. They had barely materialized before my brother was fussing over Feyre. The two bickered back and forth but from the way she looked over herself, I knew even she could hear the worry in his voice. She had lost more weight since the last time she had been here. The shadows under her eyes creeped back onto her pale skin. “Eat breakfast with me.” He said and I shifted from my place in the living room. Mor was somewhere in the house after her visit to the Court of Nightmares yesterday. Probably still decompressing with the bottle of wine she took with her to bed. 

I gave Feyre a small smile and she didn’t return it, but she didn’t glare at me either. It’s a step at least. The female in front of me gave a heavy sigh after weighing Rhys offer. The growl I heard come from her stomach seemed to make the decision for her. I didn’t follow them, if she had wanted me to I would have been able to tell. So I stayed close enough that I could swoop in and save her from my brother's overprotectiveness if need be. The glimpses of their conversation I caught weren’t the best but I stilled completely as I caught, 

“I was tortured, beaten and fucked until only I could tell myself who I was, what I was protecting. Please- help me keep that from happening again. To Prythian.” My heart ached at the words. He had had it so much worse than I did, regardless of what people might believe. I could see it on his face during some of his bad days, the scars of what Amarantha did to him. I didn’t listen to her response as I walked to my room. 

I found Feyre the next day as I had the last time, hunched over the table with more lines from Rhys to read. She was copying them in better handwriting than she had before. When I approached she didn’t so much as look up at me. I called her name gently and still nothing. So I took that as my sign to let her be. Rhys had gotten called to the war camps later that day. 

“Just look after her please. I know she’s fine but let me know if either of you need anything.” He blabbered as I all but pushed him out the door. 

“We’ll be fine, you overprotective mother hen.” His face fell slightly and I couldn’t stand that look on his face. “I’ll let you know if she needs anything, okay? Now go be a High Lord.” I saw a hint of a smile as he winnowed out of the house. 

I tried to stay out of her way. Whatever bit of goodwill she had allowed me last time seemingly disappeared. So I kept bringing her books when she ran out of the ones Rhys had given her, brought her food and left her to her own devices. Today, she didn’t give me a glare as I sat down in the armchair on her left. I opened my own book without giving her a second glance. The small hmph she made was the only indication she had even noticed my presence. She didn’t want to talk and quite frankly, neither did I, perfectly content with getting lost in our own books. 

It was around midday and the sun was just starting to peek through the heavy curtains of the library when I felt Rhys appear in the room. In his hands were trays of food which he presented to Feyre. A small thank you left her lips and I wanted to smack that smug look on Rhys face as he teased her. But then I saw his face get serious and I suddenly felt very much like I was intruding on a private moment. “Tell me how I can help you.” His voice was scratchy and I knew he was trying to hold back tears, to keep the conversation casual enough that she wouldn’t shut him out again. I truly did try to tune them out but these were the same things I had been wanting to say to her all week but couldn’t find the strength. 

“If you fall apart then the bitch wins. All of that is for nothing and she wins.” Rhys said plainly and Feyre flinched before going back to her book. I could tell that she was talking to him in her mind. My eyes grew wide when I saw that slight layer of frost cover the book cover. Rhys barely had time to dodge said book as it was thrown right at his head. It bounced harmlessly to the floor and I stifled a laugh. The laugh died in my throat when I saw the flicker of flames in her palms and I tried to reach my mind out to Rhys, he all but threw me out. 

Feyre and Rhys left later that day. I didn’t offer to come with, didn’t want to come with. Just like last time when Rhys returned to Velaris, he stalked to his office and hid out for the rest of the evening. I only got close enough to the door to leave a plate of food outside before retreating back to my side of the house. His emotions pouring through the door were enough to give me a headache, the way it felt like I was walking into a brick wall. I didn’t try to talk to him for the rest of the day. Instead choosing to pull my attention back to the map in my study. 

I had been neglecting it to focus on Feyre and Rhys but I knew it’s just because I wasn’t getting anywhere. No matter how many books I read, I couldn’t think of anything that would help us win this war. Not without all seven courts working together and I knew Hel would freeze over before that ever happened. 

So I read until my eyes became blurry and heavy. My head had gotten so heavy like the words were getting stuck and wouldn’t leave. When I felt my eyes starting to close and knocking on the door jostled me awake. I saw the shadows before I saw him, too tired to notice that they had time to take in my current state and report back to Az. 

“You should take a break.” He said as he went to pull up a chair at the table I was sitting at. 

“I can’t take a break when I haven’t found anything yet.” I whined at him. “I’m supposed to be good at this, I am good at this. Or at least I was.” I slumped in my chair and I saw that familiar look of concern flash through his warm amber eyes. He sat there, I could almost see the gears in his brain turning, his shadows starting to swirl around the floor like soothing waves. I stared at them and felt my mind calm slightly. He sighed and leaned back in his chair, wings flapping behind him. 

We just sat there in silence for a few moments and then he stood up suddenly. My eyes tracked the movement, following his arm as he extended a hand to me. It was like my brain short circuited at the gesture. He had to clear his throat before I snapped out of it and I timidly placed my hand in his. He led me out of my office and I felt his shadows on my heels. “Where are we going?” I laughed at how ridiculous this must look, one of the fiercest Illyrian warriors towing someone behind him like an excited kid. 

“Just be quiet. You’ll know when we get there.” His own voice full of an almost giddy excitement. So I let him pull me along. All the way outside until it clicked. There was a little patch of grass beside the Sidra that I loved to sit by when the weather was just starting to turn warm. Our little group used to spend free days out on that field, just soaking in the warmth. He gave me a proud smirk when we finally reached that stretch of grass. “Now, you’re going to sit and just enjoy being out here.”

“Is that an order?” I teased and he didn’t miss a beat. 

“If that means you’ll actually do it, then yes.” I sat and looked out over the river. The lights and sounds of the city walk could just trickle in, becoming a lovely hum in the back of my mind. I patted the spot next to me and Azriel sat beside me. I curled my knees up to my chest and rested my chin on top of them. Just looking at the city I loved so much. We didn’t talk, Azriel was always good for that. He knew when I needed the quiet. The sound of the small waves helped clear my head and after a while I felt my shoulders sink down, the tension lightening. It was still there of course but became more manageable as I could smell the water and Azriel’s pine and fresh air scent. It wrapped its way around me and held me like my favorite blanket. 

“Thank you.” I said, breaking the comfortable silence. We didn’t look at each other, still staring out at the city just ahead. 

“Of course. Anything for you,” He cleared his throat, “For one of my friends.” I bit down the string at that little word. I fought the urge to put some distance between us at the feeling that flooded me. The cruel reminder of just exactly how he saw me. So I just pulled my legs in tighter and ignored all the thoughts of him that began to take over. 

We didn’t head back to the house until sundown. The pair of us walked under the flickering faelights that lined the streets. It still blows my mind how much the city changed while I was gone. I told him that much. And he shrugged off the tiny complement. 

“Rhys and I will never be able to thank you enough for how much you all did while we were…gone.” My voice felt tight as I finished, “You kept our home safe when we couldn’t.” He turned to look at me and went to say something but stopped himself. His face looked slightly pained, in that concerned way he always managed. He shook his head slightly. 

“You did more than we ever could. You and Rhys gave us a chance to have something to protect in the first place.” In his words, I was pulled back to that night when it had all gone to shit. How Cassian and Azriel were out dealing with the camps and how I couldn’t convince Rhys not to go so I insisted that I come along. I had to beg him to let me come with him and he still wasn’t happy about it. We walked right into a trap and before most of his power had been ripped away from him he wiped the memory of Velaris from everyone who was under the mountain and let our friends know what was happening, how they couldn’t come after us without leaving Velaris unguarded. 

Azriel’s small nudge to my shoulder pulled me back to the present and his eyes asked the question before he needed to. 

“I’m okay.” But I felt how my arms had wrapped around myself but he didn’t say anything about it, letting me have my space. We reached the house again and I could hear Cassian and Mor’s voices floating down the hallway. The sound alone plastered a smile on my face. Azriel followed behind me as I rounded the corner and Cassian all but cheered when he saw me. “There you are princess, we went to pull you out of your study but it seems someone beat us to it.” He gave me a small wink and I laughed at the joke behind it. I shook my head as I sat down next to Mor who was already pouring me a glass of wine. 

Rhys spoke to me across the table, “I peaked in and saw the map, tomorrow if you’re up for it I want all of us to go over it.” I nodded and he smiled at me. And we all ate and joked and I left the love I felt for the people in the room washed over me like the waves in the Sidra. 

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

“So if it comes down to war. Who do we have?” Rhys turned to Cassian and myself. We were all sitting around the map I had been working on, face grim as I explained the various markings. 

“The Illyrians don’t have a choice. The court of nightmares should. We kept up pretty well with Dawn and Day. Winter…” His voice trailed off. I still remember Kallias’ face as the news broke of the attack on Winter. The thousands of babes dead by Amarantha’s hand. The pure loathing his face held as he looked at Rhys. 

“I can talk to them.” I had always liked Kallias. And from the little bit I’ve heard since our return home, he finally married Viviane after being friends since childhood. Viviane was sweet and her, Mor and I had been known to get ourselves in trouble when together. If she would listen, Winter would come around. 

“Autumn and Spring are lost causes.” Cassian sighed beside me, slumping down in his chair. 

“Tamlin is delusional enough to think it would keep him safe.” And keep Feyre safe. But I didn’t say that outloud. “Beron is…well Beron. Unless we think we can pursue one of the brothers to take him out of the equation, I think it’s better to not plan for them.” 

“Summer?” Rhys asked pointedly ignoring Cas’ words on the other seasonal courts. 

“Tarquin is new and young. He’ll side with the majority. But I think I could talk to him and at least see where his loyalties lie.” I had only talked to the new high lord a few times during our time under the mountain. He seemed nice enough, one of the few people who was even willing to talk to me at all. No fear of the role I had been forced into and hoped he would side with us. Hoped his newness wouldn’t scare him into the easy choice.” 

“I don’t like the idea of having two courts fighting against us.” Azriel finally spoke up. I had almost forgotten he was in the room but his shadow currently sitting at my feet should have been reminder enough. “Hybern has the armies he needs and if he has the cauldron….” 

“So what do you suggest?” My brother asked, head in his hands. 

“We talk to them. Let them know that we won’t win this if we’re not unified. Remind them that we fought a war once to avoid this very thing and some courts were on the wrong side of history then and would be now.” I spoke plainly, it was the only answer. If it had been anyone else the idea would have been shot down. But Rhys just let out a heavy breath and nodded. 

“We’ll wait until we’re sure. Some courts will refuse to believe there will be a war until it’s staring them in the face.” The tone in Rhys’ voice letting us know this meeting was over. We all stayed in the room, the same exhausted look sat on our faces. “Good work.” Rhys said to me as he studied the map again. “You got all of this from books?” I had been too young to remember most of the war, let alone fight in it. But at least someone had thought it smart to recount all of it in very exact detail, I just managed to translate to current day Prythian. Rhys was silently nodding to himself as he really studied the map. The others slowly filter out of the room, leaving Rhys and I alone studying the map. 

“And these?” He pointed to the orange marks I had drawn all over. 

“Trade agreement routes, the thicker the line, the more movement there is through that path. They would be the most vulnerable areas since people know them so well. They’re also normally the quickest way between courts.” I pointed out more of the lines and pins. I had so much marked off, down to what ways the rivers flowed and where their currents changed. Rhys just drank in all the information I threw at him, only nodding along to the explanations. I was about to start on another part of the map before I saw his face freeze. 

Rhys had completely stilled besides me. That all-too-familiar far-away look on his. When I raised my eyebrow at him, “What is it? Is it…” He didn’t wait for me to finish, instead he let me into his mind and I almost flinched at whatever feeling Feyre was sending him. The crushing agony and pure terror. It was a feeling I knew all too well. These weren't the few stray glimpses Feyre had sent him while they were separated. This was the very thing all of us were holding our breath for, hoping it never happened. 

“Rhys we can’t just ignore it this time.” I spoke, already leaving the table. His hand wrapped around my wrist, making me pause. 

“If you storm in there, Tamlin has every right to declare a war.” 

“And we’ll have every right to kill his sorry ass. Something that we could have done decades ago.” I spit back at my brother. 

“Please.” His voice shook with fear. Scared for Feyre and maybe for me. I put my hands up in surrender. I couldn’t argue against the tone in his voice. 

“So how do you want to do this then?” I asked him and we started planning. 

In less than 10 minutes Mor had winnowed right on the border of spring and summer. Rhys had insisted that she come along to help. Her status would help blanket us from any repercussions. Plus her powers would come in handy if any of the guards found us. So her and I snuck into that manor I had sworn I would never see again. Do it for Feyre. Be brave for her. I said to myself as my own terror rose to a fever pitch. 

I could see the darkness already pouring out of the house. My anger quickly turned into fear. What did he do to her? The voice in my head screamed. Rhys had already broken the wards and whatever was locking her inside the house. Mor knocked out the guards before they could spot us. When we finally entered the house my blood ran cold. Sitting in a ball of inky darkness was Feyre. Her screams pierced something deep inside of me. I looked around and locked eyes with Alis. Her eyes wide as she took in my face. 

“He locked her in the house. I tried to…Please just keep her safe.” Was all the older fae had said to me. 

My heart warmed at the concern in her voice. The same concern she had once shown me. I nodded and walked towards Feyre. Whatever darkness she was wielding seemed to only be for her and as I shook her shoulder, gently saying her name they retreated slightly. I looked over to Mor who only gave me a small nod. Taking her cue, I picked up the shaking female and was startled by how light she felt. Mor spoke up from beside me. “Your guards are going to have a hell of a headache when they wake up.” 

Alis nodded in understanding and I added. “Don’t tell him where we took her. Please.” And for a second I felt just as broken as the female in my arms. I knew she would tell him, and would have to tell him but a small part of me wished she wouldn’t. But that was unfair to expect of her. It reminded me too much of the same hope I had when I left. Face sunken in and heart broken as I begged her to not tell Tamlin I was leaving. No one was there to help me and I’ll be damned if Feyre ever felt that pain. I didn’t say another word as Mor winnowed us right in front of the border. It felt like I could finally breathe again as the scent shifted to ripe fruit and salt water that marked us as safe. Marked us in summer. Feyre shifted in my arms and mumbled something softly. 

Mor soothed a hand through her hair. “You’re free.” 

Rhys quickly scoped Feyre from my arms without so much as a word. He looked at Mor and I 

“We did everything by the book.” Rhys nodded before I felt the air whoosh around my ears and I knew we had made it home. Rhys deftly climbed the stairs to take Feyre to her room and I just stood staring at my brother back. I blocked out the memories that began to rise to the surface. The scar on my arm prickled and when my other hand raised to scratch at the angry white lines that trailed down my forearm, Mors hand wrapped against mine. Grounding me in the present. 

“She’s free.” She repeated to me. 

“Thank the mother.” I responded as I started to climb the stairs suddenly bone tired. 

Feyre didn’t emerge from her room that night or the next morning. More than once I found myself standing outside her door, hand held up to knock but some part of my brain told me not to. Rhys hasn't left her side the whole time she was asleep. Whatever magic she had used in the house had exhausted her and I felt my heart pang for her. How alone she must have felt, how scared she must have been to be locked in that house. I remember my simple panic the first time I went to the basement of the townhouse. How it transported me back to under the mountain, I couldn’t imagine how it felt to be locked away again.  

When I finally did see her, she seemed to have gotten a little color back. Enough so that she was able to argue with Rhys again. I didn’t linger this time to hear the fight, letting them duke it out in private. But as Rhys turned the corner, I knew something that happened. Something important. 

”We’re going home.” 

If someone had told me two months ago that Feyre would be standing in the living room of our home in Velaris I would have probably keeled over laughing. But here we were, Feyre’s eyes flickering from spot to spot in the house. I couldn’t get a read on her face but before I could even process that, I heard a pounding on the door. Cassian’s voice filtering through the wood, already complaining. Rhys shot me a look that said deal with them please. He tried to hide it but I could tell he was waiting for Feyre’s reaction to her surroundings. A hint of anything to gauge how she was feeling. He needed her to like this place like he needed to breathe. So I excused myself from the room and slipped out the front door. 

”Are you serious Cas?”

”I want to meet her. She’s right there, my brothers m-” I cut him off, blocking both him and Azriel from trying to peek into the house. They could easily push right past me but stayed a healthy distance. 

”Do not finish that sentence. Do you want all of Velaris to know?” I whispered screamed at him and he rolled his eyes.

”I promise you drama queen, no one’s up this early. I don’t want to be up this early.” 

After a few minutes of us bickering back and forth, Rhys opened the door and said to us, “Are you all just going to stand there?” 

Cassian all but trampled me trying to get in the house. I laughed when I saw his crestfallen face as he noticed Feyre was no longer in the room. “She was here right?” He spoke to the room. 

”Maybe she’s scared of your good looks Cas, can’t have her falling in love with the wrong Illyrian bastard now can we?” I shot Rhys a wink and he growled lightly. 

”She’ll meet you when she’s ready.” Was all he said before he rangled all of us into the dining room. 

Feyre slept for the rest of the morning. She came down the stairs dressed in Night Court clothes and I felt my breath catch in my throat. The way they seemed to compliment her well enough and I had to bite my tongue to prevent me from pointing that out. Rhys met her at the door and shot me a vulgar gesture at my sugary sweet, “Be safe kids.” That I called out from my spot on the couch. I sat on the couch until the sun started to set. I had just got to the good part and debated even going to the dinner at all but I was dying to see how Feyre would handle our crazy family. If she had any chance at surviving here, she needed to like them or they would drive her crazy. Although from Cassian’s earlier words that might be the case either way. So I groaned and pulled myself off the couch, pulling on the first thing that I saw and winnowed with Mor to the front steps of the house. 

Azriel and Cassian were waiting to fly us up. Cassian wrapped his arm around Mor’s waist and Azriel did the same to me. I hardly felt my feet leave the ground before he was already placing me down in front of the door. I had not had the heart to come here since I’ve been home. Too many memories for me to want to come alone and Mor grabbed my hand as she pulled me through the threshold. We had just settled in before I heard the faint trails of Rhys and Feyre voices outside the door. I couldn’t stop the two males from bounding to the door, they flung it open to reveal a very annoyed looking Rhys. I held my breath as she stood in the doorway, eyes searching for something and she landed on me. She squared her shoulders but Cassian was already speaking.

”I promise we won't bite.” 

Last I heard, Cassian, no one has taken you up on that offer.” And I laughed as Feyre’s face blanched. I didn’t miss the way the female's eyes raked over the Illyrians as they stepped into the light. I tried not the bristle as her eyes lingered on Azriel just a fraction longer than I would have liked. Rhys introduced the two and it was Feyres response to one of his questions that made me feel a frision of pride. 

”How the hell did you manage to survive this long without anyone killing you?” She would fit right in and Cassian’s booming laugh told me that very same thing. Armen had appeared almost out of thin air as we all made our way to the table. 

Feyre was slowly filled in about how the three brothers had met. Her eyes flickered to me during the story. 

”Where do you fit into all of this, besides being his sister.” She quickly added. Everyone seemed to be waiting for me to answer. 

”I mean there's not much else to it besides that. He got stuck with them so I did too. I nearly knocked Cassian's teeth in the first time I met him and I’ve been stuck with them ever since.” I stuck my tongue out at Cassian who rolled his eyes. 

”You mean you broke your fist trying to, princess. I had to nurse you back to health and you were helpless but to fall for my charm.” Now it was my turn to roll my eyes and I fought the urge to throw my bread across the table at him. If it wasn't for Feyre I would have. The rest of the stories and tales flowed out and, much to Feyre’s credit, she didn’t falter in the slightest. She interjected at the perfect moments, making jokes that had everyone roaring with laughter. Then the tables were turned onto her and Cassian was asking her about her life. After she had finished she turned to Rhys.

’I accept your offer- to work with you.” And I wanted to scream and cheer. I felt no such joy from Rhys as he started.

”Good because we start tomorrow. Hybern is starting this war and he’s going to bring back Jurian to help him.” I felt a shiver run down my back. Rhys had neglected to tell me that part. In an instant the lighthearted conversation was thrown to the side and Cassian launched into full general mode.

 I tried my best to keep up with this new bit of information, how it would throw a wrench into any attempts of a plan. I missed the conversation that followed, mind already trying to figure out the adjustments I would need to make to the map in my office. Armen managed to snap me out of my thinking. 

”The Bone Carver might indeed be willing to talk to her.” She pointed a finger at Feyre and I went to argue against the ancient female. Rhy had beaten me to it. 

”Your choice, always your choice, Feyre.” and I tried to keep the fear off my face as she answered. 

”How bad could it be.” Cassians’ answer had her face pale as a ghost and it was clear dinner was over at that moment. The others reduced to arguing over the semantics and who would be doing what in preparation for their journey to the prison. My eyes suddenly felt very heavy at the sounds of their voices. Azriel’s gentle hand on my shoulder was the sign that the arguing had stopped at all. I didn’t need to be asked a second time and as he flew me back down to the ground below Velaris, I wondered if all of us would make it through the war a second time.

Next Chapter: Here

Taglist: @durgenyx @tothestarsandwhateverend @quinzzelx

[gainerbf]

•How I’ve gained weight•

I’ve wanted to make a post like this for a while now because I get the question ‘how do I gain weight’ often. Here is an outline of what I’ve been doing

-In the morning, I try to have eggs. 4 eggs scrambled with a slice of cheese is my go to. That’s 24 grams of protein right away. Add a tall glass of milk (for me chocolate milk) and boom, 30 grams of protein immediately.

-I work on the road during the year so around lunch time I would try to snack on cashews and peanut butter crackers. Once I’m off work around 2-3pm, I would try to have a burger. Literally just a plain ass burger or 2 with ketchup. Alternate that with grilled chicken or a deli sandwich with some kind of red meat. Or even full fat greek yogurt is good.

-Dinner is…dinner. Eat whatever. Pasta. Pizza. Chicken. Steak. Burgers. Tacos. Hell pb n js will do. Go nuts

-IMPORTANT-

•Weight Training

I weight train. Almost every day. I can tell I am ruining some of your ‘ooo fat boy is out of shape. He probably can’t do a push up’ fantasies. Very sorry but I can. I can do a lot actually. I lift weights. I do lunges. I do squats. I have a fat fucking milkshake made up simply of ice cream and milk. Not even trying with the milk either, it’s low fat. Imagine if I did whole milk? In due time 😉 but this is important. I’m not saying ‘hit the gym blimpie!’. Get some dumbbells. Work your lower body. You need to do this anyways to carry your growing body. Plus you’ll feel A LOT better…and your ass and thighs look good, win win 😃

-Midnight snack/second dinner. My go to second dinner/before bed snack is a steak and cheese grinder. I don’t have it every night but probably 3-4 times a week. Again, it doesn’t have to be red meat but protein is key.

In conclusion

I started doing this for a few reason

My job causes me to move around a good bit and I lost weight because of it. I had no muscle. I was just pure fat. I wanted to change that and have

I figured it would help fill me out a bit more. Uhhhh mission accomplished 🥵

It’s healthy. Pretty simple

Final reason. I am always trying to find the most effective weight gain regimen. This is it. At least for me it is.

I’ve gained 23 pounds since June 25th. I have to make adjustments do to my upcoming work schedule but I plan on keeping this routine for the foreseeable future and even tweaking it a bit.

-I can add protein powder, whole milk and heavy cream to my milkshakes

-I can have 2 milkshakes a day (or 3 or 4 or just a constant stream 😅)

-I will go up in weight with my weight training. Increasing weight is key, don’t do a ton of reps because that is how you cut/tone. You want to build. Only way to build is to increase the weight you lift. Don’t hurt yourself. Start low, then grow

I’m not saying this is a guarantee plan for you. Everybody is different. But this worked for me. It DESTROYED a plateau I was hitting and then some.

Side note: this was influenced by a post that I have a screenshot of but I didn’t screenshot the name of the blog and I can’t find the post. When I see it resurface, will rb

[roanniom]

Hello Valentine!!!

I have missed you terribly, and I'm so glad you're taking some time to write today. Tell me, what has Steve been up to with this god-forsaken cold front plaguing us in Midwest? I'm sure there's been at least a couple of snow days in Hawkins lately.

I love you!!! ❤️❤️❤️

Claire <3 Love of my life <3 My forever Valentine <3

Just for you we're going to fly right over to Hawkins and see what's going on in the Harrington residence.

Cold Out There

Steve Harrington x Reader

Warnings: SFW, fluff, small mention of Steve's neglectful parents but don't worry, he's doing great!

As I'm sure we're all well aware, Steve's parents' home is big and empty and drafty and all together oppressive. Especially with the cold front that has turned Hawkins into an icy wasteland.

So I'm sure you aren't surprised to learn that Steve is not at his parents' house. No. Instead he has been holding court at your place with you and all your shared friends. The fire is going, kept fed in no small part by Steve and Eddie's combined efforts to one up each other with your alarmingly dull ax. Robin and Max have been baking all day in your cramped kitchen, keeping your poor old oven cranking to help heat up your small, shittily insulated home.

You have been working with Dustin and Mike on designing a new campaign that you're all going to begin playing once the sun goes down (Eddie gets a much needed, if not begrudging, break from DMing so he can play for once). Will, Lucas, and El are out braving the storm to acquire more snacks to keep you all going for the foreseeable future, because the cold weather has shown no indication of stopping anytime soon.

When Steve walks in, red faced and runny-nosed, with an armful of fresh firewood, he takes in the scene before him. You and the boys squabbling with Eddie as he tries to tell you that you've formatted your character sheets wrong. Max flustered and covered in flour as she barks at Robin for forgetting to put baking powder in the latest round of muffins (though Robin is doing a really bad job at hiding her laughter in the face of the red-head's fury).

It's all so...warm. In spite of the blistering cold outside, Steve feels himself heating up from his toes all the way to the tips of his ears. It gets so hot, so suddenly, that he drops the firewood and strips off his jacket as fast as possible.

You notice his sudden movements out of the corner of your eye and look over in time to notice the most peculiar look on his face. You abandon your current argument without so much as an excuse.

"Hey, I'm not finished criticizing you guys yet!" Eddie calls out after you. You throw a middle finger over your shoulder passively as Dustin and Mike dogpile on top of their shrieking dungeon master.

Steve watches you with misty eyes as you approach.

"What's going on over here, Mr. Harrington?" you ask softly. Steve stares down at you with an equally soft smile.

"It's really warm in here."

"Well yeah..." you hesitate, looking around. "I guess we've been over doing it maybe with the baking and the fireplace. Maybe we can cool it for a while - ,"

"No no!" Steve interrupts, grabbing you by the waist. You look back up at him to see that his soft smile has grown into a full grin. "Leave it. It's perfect."

You relax into his hold, your own arms winding up around his neck.

"You're an odd one, Steve Harrington," you quip. But he can tell by your answering grin that you understand where is mind is at.

It's cold outside. But your hearts are alight in here, amidst the glow of everyone you love.

(And some you'd like to lovingly punch. Ahem, Eddie Munson).

~*~

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Thank you for reading! Please send in more requests!!

[swiftyangx12]

Continuity Crossover #4

[D/N] = Designation (Your name)

Cybertronian!Reader

TFP![D/N]: Remember, this is a stealth mission. We keep everything quiet and do not set any alarms off, got it?

TFA![D/N]: Loud and clear.

G1![D/N]: You got it, “boss”.

[The three were assigned on a mission to gather intel reside in the Decepticons’ base. As both TFP![D/N] and TFA![D/N] snuck inside without a sound, unfortunately their G1 counterpart had other ideas.]

G1![D/N]: *Runs into an open area filled with Decepticons* What’s up, motherfraggers?! *Pulls out their blasters*

TFP![D/N] & TFA![D/N]:

G1, NO!

[Hours Later]

[Autobot Base]

TFA![D/N]: We forgot how unhinged G1 can be during missions.

G1![D/N]: I think we did quite alright.

TFA![D/N]: You literally ran straight into the enemy’s view and started blasting everywhere.

G1![D/N]: *Shrugs* It got the job done. We got the intel we needed.

TFA![D/N]: You shot Ironhide from the Bayverse. He was our extra defense.

[Bayverse!Ironhide was rushed into the Med Bay after the mission had failed successfully? The weapons expert is in stable condition, so he’ll be okay. “I’ll be fine!”]

TFP![D/N]: Optimus, with all due respect, please don’t partner us with G1 again.

TFA![D/N]: We can’t handle their kind of chaotic energy compared to ours.

TFP!Optimus Prime: Granted. In the foreseeable future, [D/N] from Generation One will only be with you for more dire missions rather than stealth-based ones.

G1![D/N]: So…No more stealth team-ups with you, huh?

TFP![D/N]: I’m sorry, [D/N]. We can’t risk our covers blown due to your approach on handling things.

G1![D/N]: That’s fair. At least I’ll hang with my Oppy for other assignments.

TFP![D/N]: What’s that supposed to mean?

G1![D/N]: Meaning I have a little more time to hang with Optimus from my universe while you two have to work your afts off. Heh.

TFP![D/N] & TFA![D/N]: …

[Twelve Seconds Later]

TFA![D/N]: *Ex-vents tiredly* Oppy, could I borrow your axe for a moment?

TFA!Optimus Prime: *Grips on his axe tightly* No way, [D/N]. We’re not disciplining your variant by chasing them like a serial killer.

TFA![D/N]: *Pouts* Then how come TFP me is chasing them?

[TFP![D/N] chasing behind G1![D/N] with their weapons out while G1!Optimus and TFP!Optimus chase after the two from killing each other.]

TFA!Optimus Prime: Probably since they’re more equipped with firearms and more experienced in battles compared to us.

TFA![D/N]: Uh huh. You’re just afraid I’ll hurt myself.

TFA!Optimus Prime: That’s…true. Since you joined us, I’m afraid something will happen to you.

TFA![D/N]: Oppy, I understand you’re worried for my safety. However, you forgot about that one time I kicked some Decepticons’ afts, by myself. They can barely lift a digit while escaping from me.

TFA!Optimus Prime: *A little intimidated* R-Right. You reported that last time. “Frag, they’re a beast.”

[gepardings]

HIIII can I request for a vincent renzi fic where vincent as a lawyer is of course VERY busy and reader rarely sees Vincent and when reader texts him he barely answers so reader gets moody af :o then one night, unexpectedly, when reader is eating dinner or something and sitting alone in her apartment, Vincent surprises her and it gets so fluffy after..... hope everything goes well for u, thank you!

Oh my god, anon!!! This is such a good prompt. I took the angstier approach with it near the beginning, but you do get your fluff at the end. Thank you for the ask! I hope you like it <3.

genre: angst with comforting ending word count: 1081. warnings: none!

It took awhile for the lawyer to agree to make it official with you. Vincent Renzi was a man who fell in love easily, but seldom did he act on these desires. He was focused, meticulous, determined. Between law school and building a career, he had come to terms with being alone for the foreseeable future. In all fairness, he believed that no one would put up with him because of it. His relationships didn’t last very long as a result and he’d convinced himself that he was content with that.

However, he did not anticipate you in this. Suddenly, he was no longer content leading this lonely life of his. Suddenly, he was going out of his way to get your attention. Suddenly, the world was just you. It was wonderful. 

When the honeymoon phase wore off, however, reality would hit you both. He was a busy man in a competitive field, and he had to get his head back in the game. Vincent back at work, you desperately trying to adjust to his absence. He really tried at the beginning— he’d squeeze in dates no matter how busy he was. During harder cases, even those dates would disappear. 

This one particular case fell as an example of that. You hadn’t seen him in weeks! He’d head from the office straight to his apartment where he’d collapse and the cycle would repeat. You’d considered asking him to move in, but he wasn’t answering any texts except for the ‘good morning’ and ‘good night’ ones (to prove he wasn’t ghosting you, just busy) and there was no time to bring it up. 

At some point, you tried showing up to the law firm to drop him off some lunch you’d made him. Showing up unannounced was your first mistake however, Vincent was visiting a client who lived two hours away by car! He wouldn’t be back until the deep hours of the night. You’d gone home— defeated. It wasn’t just defeat, but a misplaced anger. In the heat of the moment, you’d angrily texted him to have the decency to at least text you his schedule, and that this was driving you insane. When the text remained on delivered for the next few hours, you’d felt humiliated and hurt. 

Maybe you just weren’t cut out for this. Vincent needed someone who could keep up with his pace, but oh you loved him desperately. It wasn’t an issue of insecurity or feeling unfulfilled. You just … missed your boyfriend. Yeah, you just missed your boyfriend. You missed his hands running through your hair as you cuddled on your couch, his other hand scrolling through his laptop as he went over the details of another case while yours scrolled through your phone. You sat in the same position on the couch, scrolling through your phone, but there was no hand to run through your hair. 

You must’ve been in that position for hours, because when you looked up at the sound of your door unlocking, you could see that it was dark outside. You frowned deeply. You knew it was Vincent who had come on— he was the only person with a key to your apartment after all. He called out for you, and when you gave him no response, he made his way to the living room, looking at you with a sheepish expression. 

He looked tired. Deep-set eyes looking at you with apology etched in. In his right hand was a bouquet of your favorite flowers, in his left was your favorite take-out. However, he did not speak, only watched you. 

“Do you think this makes up for this?”, you spoke, and you were surprised at how you immediately choked up. You looked to the side, not wanting him to see how truly worked up you were over this. You heard him put down the gifts and in seconds, he was crouching in front of you. 

“Chérie..”, he pleaded. “Sweetness.”

“It’s not fair, Vincent”, you mumbled, still not looking at him. The comfort his presence brought you was unmatched. Just speaking to him could bring you to tears when you’ve been repressing them for weeks on end. “There has to be a different way”, you finally turned to him, the tears freely falling down your cheeks.

“Please, don’t cry”, he whispered, hand wiping at your cheek, his other hand holding your own, squeezing. “I’m so sorry.” When the tears didn’t stop, he pulled you in by the back of your neck, letting you bury your face in the crook of his as he kissed your forehead. “I never wanted you to feel like this. It’s just not something I can control”, he promised. “Look at me?”

You finally did, your eyes finding his blue-grey ones. He smiled down at you, and you couldn’t help the ache in your heart. “We have to figure something out, okay? I love you, but it’s like I’m dating a ghost.” He nodded, kissing you softly. “Okay. We’ll figure it out.” 

You stayed like that for a while, staring at one another, unspoken words of love exchanged. “I heard you came by.. the law firm today?” You nodded, laughing softly and wiping away your tears. Your laugh was a sound that always made his heart swell with affection. Vincent Renzi was a man who fell in love easily, and when he did, that love encompassed his entire being. To him, your smile, your laugh was his entire being. 

“I thought that if I wasn’t going to see you at home or on dates, I could bring the dates to you. I wanted to have lunch together, but you weren’t there.” 

He watched you, a smile on his face.  “What?”, you asked. He reached over and planted another kiss on your lips. “Je suis fou de toi.” (I’m head over heels for you).

You blushed, giggling into the kiss. It was not easy being with someone as driven and determined as Vincent Renzi, but you had once heard that when you love someone, truly, then there is nothing to keep you away from that person. You were never much of a believer in such cliches, but he made you one. He had turned you into someone who believed in cliches, and you had turned him into a man willing to throw all the efforts he had made to protect himself from heartbreak out the window just for the chance to love and be loved by you.

[justinspoliticalcorner]

Dan Pfeiffer at The Message Box:

Poring through the aftermath of a brutal defeat, Democrats are now in their worst position in at least 20 years. Republicans have the White House and the Senate and an excellent chance to capture the House. Trump is only the second Republican since 1988 to win the popular vote, and he made huge gains across the country, building a multi-racial working-class coalition.

For many of you, I imagine this is painful to read. Trust me. It is even more painful to write. Most of my career has been spent within the machinery of the Democratic Party. I worked in the White House and Senate leadership. I worked for Democratic governors and other party organizations. It pains me to see the party in this state of disfavor only eight years after Barack Obama left the White House. The coalition that Obama built has crumbled. There are millions of reasons why we are in this position — COVID, inflation, an unpopular President, several political miscalculations, and a failure to adapt to a changed media environment. Ultimately, I am less interested in how we got into this mess than in how we get out of it.

The press continues to second-guess and Monday-morning quarterback various tactical decisions of the Harris campaign. I am also not particularly interested in that debate. Two things can be true at the same time. Kamala Harris ran a great campaign in a brutal political environment under an impossible timeline, and Democrats just got their ass kicked by a failed President and convicted criminal who could have been sentenced to jail if he lost the election. Where Democrats go from here is a conversation that will be an ongoing part of this newsletter in the months to come. There is no singular or simple answer, and many strawman arguments are being offered up on Twitter and cable. The solution is more complex than being more left or centrist or less woke. I don’t have the answers. Like the rest of you, I am still processing what happened on Tuesday. As part of my personal therapy, I wanted to do a bit of brain dump on the road ahead for Democrats as we confront another four years of Trump.

1. Recognize the Scale of the Problem

On one level, Trump’s win isn’t that big. His popular vote margin will end up being lower than Hillary Clinton’s when she lost the Presidency. This was far from a landslide. It looks nothing like Reagan’s victories in 1980 and 1984 or Obama’s win in 2008. But we shouldn’t sugarcoat the size and scope of Trump’s victory. Trump improved on his 2020 performance nearly everywhere in the country and with every type of voter. There was a six-point shift to the right in the country from 2020. Trump did 10 points better in Democratic strongholds like New York, New Jersey, and Rhode Island. He gained ground with men, women, Latinos, Black voters, and voters under 30. If the GOP can maintain that coalition post-Trump, Democrats will have no shot at the White House or the Senate for the foreseeable future. We are in a deep hole, and because of that, it is essential that we contemplate radical solutions about how we communicate, campaign, and govern. Every option should be on the table and every prior should be questioned. Yes, it was a brutal political environment, but this failure was a long time in the making.

2. Understand Why We Keep Losing on the Economy

Post-COVID inflation is the biggest factor in this election. It’s why incumbent parties all over the world have been getting slaughtered in election after election. It’s almost impossible to win an election when, according to the exit polls, 68% of voters rate the economy negatively, 75% say inflation caused them harm, and only 24% of voters say their financial situation is better off than four years ago. But if Democrats just blame inflation for voter distrust on the economy, we will be whistling past the graveyard. Democrats have lost economically-focused voters in every election since 2012. Even in the 2018 and 2022 midterms, which saw huge Democratic gains, we lost the voters who said the economy was their top issue by an average of 36 points!

President Biden passed a bunch of very consequential and popular policies. Yet, his ratings on the economy worsened over time. While I think we should revisit our policy agenda to look for new, bolder ideas that better speak to people’s concerns, this is largely not a policy problem. It’s a brand problem. When you do a blind taste test, our policies are more popular. This is why ballot initiatives like raising the minimum wage and allowing collective bargaining often pass in very Red states where Democrats have no chance of winning elected office. On economic issues, Democrats have a cultural problem; regardless of our policies, voters in the toughest economic situations simply don’t think Democrats care about them, and they haven’t since Barack Obama left office. Republicans have done an excellent job — with some inadvertent help from Democrats — branding our party as the party of elites even though the GOP standard bearer is a wannabe billionaire who offers tax cuts to other billionaires in exchange for campaign contributions. There is little question that we would benefit from more full-throated populism.

3. Close the Communications Chasm

Democrats are losing the information war. Trump and the Republicans are relentlessly communicating their narrative to a wide swath of the electorate, while Democrats are mostly still playing by an old set of rules. The Right is dominating the information space. In the battleground states where Democrats could spend more than a billion dollars communicating to voters on TV and digital platforms, Trump gained three points over his 2020 performance. In the rest of the country, which saw no paid Democratic messaging, Trump gained six points. This means that Democrats got absolutely battered in earned and social media. An average American who just turned on their TV or unlocked their phone or tablet was getting much more pro-Trump and anti-Democratic messaging. This situation is not unique to the Harris campaign. It’s been a problem for Democrats for more than a decade. Democrats cannot reach the wide swath of voters who don’t actively consume political news. According to polling from Data for Progress, here’s the statistics showing how people voted based on the amount they paid attention to political news:

a great deal: Harris +8

a lot: Harris +5

a moderate amount: Trump +1

a little: Trump +8 -

none at all: Trump +15

If you read the New York Times or watch CNN, Democrats know how to reach you. The problem is that we already have those voters. It's very clear that most of Democratic communications is a circular conversation with the people who already agree with us on everything. The rest of the electorate can’t hear us. They are getting no countervailing information to counter the Right Wing caricature of Democrats. Because of Fox News and other Right Wing outlets, Republicans have long had an asymmetric media advantage. However, in recent years, Right Wing messaging has come to dominate non-political online spaces centered on topics like comedy, gaming, gambling, and wellness.

Most Democrats continued running the same communications playbook for the entire Trump era despite massive changes in the media ecosystem. We haven’t incubated our progressive political media enough nor have we been willing to go into the non-political spaces where the most critical segment of voters are getting their info.

Dan Pfeiffer has yet another home run column on how the Democrats can roar back from their shock 2024 losses.

[ms--lobotomy]

40k Lion being an an absolute freak. A slutty old man. A whore. Anything will do really.

Normally I don't answer requests while they're closed, but @kit-williams has a long overdue birthday gift involving Lion of either type. I was already going to do 40k Lion, but this is the kick in the ass I needed to finally write the fic. Thank you, Anon!

Summary: Lion reunites with an old lover.

Word Count: 649

Content Warnings: This one's real soft but like. Armor kink and breeding and vague NSFW

Image Credit: @squishyowl

You were going to become a mother. At least, that's what he had promised you. Before Horus lost his mind, before the man you loved vanished without so much as telling anyone where he'd gone. Ten thousand years had gone by. Despite your nature as a Perpetual, it was a long and accursed wait for something that might not even happen. Ten thousand years, and you'd not given up for a day.

Someone who'd been the lover of a Primarch would have had to go into hiding for the foreseeable future. So hide you did, moving from planet to remote planet and never staying for more than a few Earthen years. It was late at night while you worked. The noises you heard were like small earthquakes, but rhythmic as one thump superseded another. Right after the last one, you heard a knock.

"Shouldn't you be...?" you asked, words failing you.

"What in the galaxy do you mean?" you heard a familiar voice respond.

It all clicked in your mind. Perhaps the footsteps of a Primarch were so unfamiliar to you nowadays, so otherworldly that you'd mistaken them for something else. You hadn't looked out of any windows, but you saw a familiar shade of green. And you'd recognize the voice anywhere, if it was a little huskier and a little more worn.

"Lion?"

"Indeed," he replied, "now if you could invite me in, that would be quite welcome."

You tilted your head. He was never one to announce his presence, and the Lion you knew would open the door himself if he'd wanted to see you. Oh, well, you've reasoned with yourself. Most people change in ten thousand years. As you approached the door, you saw the familiar etchings in his verdant armor. You opened it and craned your neck up to look at him.

"You've aged," you said softly as he ran a hand along your cheek. His wrinkles were far more pronounced, and his hair was silver instead of the blonde you remembered. His forest-green eyes were the same, and he made rare eye contact with you as the crows feet grew deeper with his smile.

His smile widened. "You haven't," he replied, kneeling down. He slipped a hand behind your knees and lifted you up, his armor cold against your skin.

You relaxed. Despite the metal armor, his hold was as comfortable as your remember. He stood up. You hadn't felt that rush of air in a long while. You were now higher above the ground than you were tall.

He lifted you to his mouth, and you bared your neck as he pressed kiss after soft kiss into it. His whiskers were still rough against your skin, but that was a welcome feeling after going so long without it. Your eyes met again, and you let out a light giggle.

"I've missed you," he mumbled before resuming his activity.

"I've..." you started. How were you even going to begin to describe how you felt, those ten thousand years of sleepless nights waiting for him? That empty feeling of waiting, of not knowing whether your efforts were for nothing. Relief didn't even begin to cover how you were feeling. "I've missed you t-!"

He set you down and knelt before you again, pressing his lips onto yours and pressing you into the side of your house. The straps of your sundress were pushed up and to the side, and your eyes widened as his closed. After a minute, he pulled away.

"Too soon?" he asked, concern in his voice.

"N, no," you whimpered. You made no effort to pull the straps of your dress back up, thanking your lucky stars that you had no neighbors.

"Good," he said. "Now, help me take off my armor. I want to keep my promise to you."

"What-?"

"You're going to become a mother when I'm done with you."

Taglist: @bispecsual @justeverythingnothingelse @bleedingichorhearts @nekotaetae @historitor-bookshelf

[karatekels]

Fresh Start February #1

BOO!

I'm back, with some ~randomly scheduled~ little snippets of soft little Fresh Start Terry and reader! I know this is shorter than what I normally post, but... I figured this way I'd actually do it, y'know?

---

Reunion - Chapter 1

---

Bzzzt. Bzzzt. Bzzzt.

Terry snaps to attention, snatching his phone off the desk and dismissing the alarm. He all but abandons his work on the computer without a second thought in favour of taking the familiar path from his home office to the master bedroom.

There is an extra spring to his step as he climbs the stairs to the third floor; it’s the last time this particular routine will be occupying his nights for the foreseeable future.

He has enjoyed his nightly phone calls with you for the past thirty-six nights, having adamantly refused to go a single day without hearing your voice. Not that you had needed much persuading on the matter; it was clear from the way that you fought yourself to stay awake every night that you’ve been just as desperate to talk to him. But – finally – tomorrow would come and put an end to his weeks of suffering.

Tomorrow you were coming home.

His thumb traces the familiar path across the phone screen to dial your number with the sort of tenderness he’d typically reserve for your body, lifting the phone to his ear.

“Hello?” you answer the phone, a tad breathless.

He sits at the foot of his bed, feeling the tension leaving his body at this single sound of your voice.

“Y/N,” he sighs your name into the phone by way of greeting.

“Terry!” you exclaim his name happily, your voice at a higher pitch than normal. What was going on?

“Is everything alright?” he asks hesitantly, afraid of the answer. You sound surprised by his call somehow, though you’d been a part of this routine for over a month now.

“Yes, Terry, sorry. I just lost track of time,” you apologize, and he doesn’t doubt the sincerity in your tone.

“No need to apologize, love. I’m sure you’re stressed about traveling tomorrow.”

He’s briefly distracted by a sudden incessant knocking at what he presumes is the front door, and frowns. He’d normally have received an alert that someone was being let through the gates, and at the very least one of the staff should’ve been there to address this night-time visitor.

Where the hell was everyone?

The volume of the knocking increases and he bites back a growl of frustration, rising from the bed to handle things himself. People were just asking to get fired tonight.

“I’m sorry, Y/N, what did you say?” he asks as he descends the stairs, realizing he hasn’t heard a word you’ve said in his preoccupied state.

“Please don’t be upset with me, Terry,” you beg. “I know I should’ve told you before canceling my flight.”

“What?!” he asks in shock, his voice nearly cracking. You had canceled your flight? You weren’t coming?

The incessant knocking reaches a fever pitch and he lets out a snarl before realizing how it may come across to you.

“Give me just a moment please, Y/N, and then we can talk about this,” he pleads with you. He couldn’t have you getting cold feet now, not after this, not after everything.

He wrenches the door open, fully prepared to lay into whoever was on the other side for their interruption. Someone had better be dying…

“I couldn’t wait,” you inform him, your voice echoing as he hears it from both his phone and your mouth from where you stand on his front doorstep.

---

It takes everything within you to keep from launching yourself at Terry the moment he opens the door. You manage to hang up the phone and drop it somewhat carelessly into the tote bag slung over your shoulder, your eyes never leaving his face. Terry is speechless, looking down at you with clear surprise. You bite your bottom lip, both to conceal your amusement at his shocked expression and your own anxieties. He wouldn’t be offended by you showing up unannounced, would he? Especially after weeks of conversations that revealed just how badly you were missing one another…

Between one blink and the next Terry has snatched you up, tugging you covetously across the threshold and into his arms, and you let out a sigh of relief against his shirt before greedily breathing him in. The shirt he had lent you had long since lost his scent, and you realize how much you’ve come to crave the presence of his cologne in the air.

“Y/N,” he breathes your name into your hair quietly, arms squeezing you so desperately it feels like he’s trying to force your body inside his own, and it only makes you feel like you’re home.

“I guess this means you aren’t bothered by me showing up a day early?” you ask jokingly, your voice muffled as you speak against his chest. You hear him exhale through his nose, exasperated by your mouth as always, before he relaxes his grip enough for you to peel your head away to look up at him.

“Never,” he answers fiercely, his blue eyes roaming every inch of you like he was trying to recommit you to memory. You understand the feeling, your hands moving almost of their own accord up his back before sliding down his arms to take his hands in your own, trying to relearn the feel of him.

“How did you get here?”

“I flew, then took an Uber,” you say, shrugging nonchalantly. “Economy class, too,” you chirp, grinning up at him as his nose wrinkles in distaste. He rolls his eyes at your attempts to goad him.

“I meant past the gates. Did you scale the walls, you little beast?”

“Of course not. I had someone on the inside,” you inform him with a conspiratorial wink. “Thanks, Victor!” you call out, waving at one of the security cameras.

The lens pointedly moves away from the two of you – whether to dismiss you or to avoid looking at your reunion any further, you aren’t sure. Terry turns from looking at the camera to gaze down at you with suspicion.

“How have you been contacting Victor?” he demands.

“I have my ways, Mr. Silver,” you offer mysteriously, biting back a giggle. You’re quite enjoying this moment of having taken Terry by surprise.

“Is that how you’ve been spending your time away? Turning my own men against me?”

“Do you really want to spend all night talking about Victor?” you tease, batting your eyelashes up at him. “I, for one, would appreciate a shower.”

Terry hisses, his gaze darkening as he tightens his grip on you. Well, it was good to know that his attraction to you hadn’t abated in your absence…

“I missed you, Terry. So much,” you confess, your heart physically aching as you think back to these past weeks without him.

And it’s that declaration, rather than your sudden appearance or flirty invitation to share his shower that has Terry scooping you up into his arms and pressing you back against the wall next to the front door, his mouth seeking out your own to capture your lips in a kiss that sets your whole body on fire. You do your best to cling to him, locking your hands together behind his neck while your legs fight against your weak knees to wrap around him, your heart fluttering like a hummingbird’s in your chest.

“Y/N,” he sighs your name into your mouth, “My Y/N.”

Terry’s entire being seems to relax now that he’s got you in his clutches, even as he continues to hold you up against him, your lips never parting. You squeeze yourself around his massive form as best you can, needing to be closer to him and feeling him clinging to you just as desperately, his grip on you teetering on the edge of being painful in the best way.

“Let’s see about getting you cleaned up,” he murmurs softly before whisking you away, still in his embrace.

---

“I had plans for tomorrow, you know,” Terry informs you breathlessly between kisses.

“I’m sure,” you hum in appeasement, your fingers joining the steamy spray of water in its path down Terry’s firm chest. You resist the urge to lap up the droplets clinging to his skin.

“Flowers when I met you at the airport, champagne on the plane,” he offers, his large hands running up and down your sides firmly but gently as he traces your curves with reverence.

Your feet hadn’t touched the floor of the house until he’d set you down in the shower.

“Sounds lovely,” you sigh, half at the thoughtfulness of these gestures and half in exasperation. Terry didn’t truly think you needed any of that, did he?

“A limo to pick us up from the airport, and a romantic candlelit dinner here.”

“There’s always tomorrow,” you remind him, your hands sliding down and around his body to give his ass a firm squeeze. You need him here with you now, not dwelling on what could have been.

“Everyone was meant to be gone when you got here.”

That has you pausing in your ogling of Terry’s body. The ever-present staff had been the subject of lighthearted debates between the two of you during your time apart, with Terry ultimately concluding that you were just self-conscious about others hearing the noises that he intended to pull out of you.

It wasn’t an entirely inaccurate conclusion, but it is one you’ve been trying to mentally prepare for during your time apart.

“I appreciate the thought, Terry,” you offer sincerely, smiling up at him before allowing your lips to twist into a far more mischievous grin.

“I suppose we’ll just have to give them a reminder as to why we’re going to be sending them away.”

Rather than being stunned speechless the way that you’d anticipated, all Terry does it let out a low, sinful chuckle.

“You, Madam,” he murmurs, staring down at you like you were something to eat, “have just ensured a long night for yourself.”

He abruptly leaves the shower without another word, sealing you back inside and leaving you to watch him towel off through the foggy glass panes.

“Terry? Where are you going?” you call, already feeling the loss of his presence.

“Relax, sweet thing. Take your time. I just have to get a few things ready for you…”

---

You force yourself to stay under the hot spray of the shower, trying to relax your tense muscles. You aren’t sure what exactly Terry is planning, but you imagine it’s going to take him a few minutes. Finally, you can’t bring yourself to draw things out anymore, needing to seek out Terry’s embrace once more.

Upon toweling off, you realize he has taken your clothes with him, leaving you with nothing to change into. Your lips quirk into a smile at his antics, and you secure the towel around yourself, moving to leave the bathroom.

The door is locked.

You try the knob again, pushing and pulling the door to no avail. You call for Terry but hear nothing on the other side of the door except for what you suspect is a low, muffled chuckle. Scowling, you snatch your phone off the bathroom counter:

You scowl, grumpy that your plan to surprise Terry and take control of the evening had been so easily usurped. Huffing, you reply, your thumbs tapping the screen with more force than necessary:

You frown down at your phone, feeling butterflies in your stomach despite yourself. Put what on?

You quickly retrieve a sleek black and pink box from beneath the sink, lifting the lid with anticipation, your fingers trembling as you brush the tissue paper aside. As soon as you see the contents of the box, you yank your hands away, leaving the box on the counter. Utterly frazzled, you frantically unlock your phone again.

---

Brad Pitt voice: WHAT'S IN THE BOX??

See you all soon for Chapter 2!

Fresh Start... starts here! Other chapters, sequels, and stories linked on my Masterlist!

Support my unhinged smut here!

[roseaesynstylae]

So, the idea of the Bad Batch (minus Echo, plus Emerie) being the other half of the Nulls has consumed my goddamn mind. Therefore, as you do when an idea takes up residence in your frontal lobe for the foreseeable future, here's some headcanons.

The Bad Batch (except for Echo and Omega, who have no clue what's going on) hate the Nulls. As in, "murder on sight" hate them. From an in-universe perspective, there could be a myriad of reasons, ranging from feelings of abandonment to resentment over them having a better life. From a writer's standpoint, it's because I love me some good old familial dysfunction and angst.

The more...unhinged...tendencies the Nulls are known for manifests in the Bad Batch more as "let's jump off this cliff and use explosives to direct our fall!" and less as "hey, check out my new skin gloves!" Of course, if you push them too far, it's a different story. In order of least to most likely to pull a "lemme turn you into an art installation," it's Omega, Wrecker, Hunter, Crosshair, and Tech. Omega wouldn't do that, at least not at this point in her life. Wrecker, when enraged, goes for the just-hit-them solution. Hunter's a decent human being and usually wouldn't do something like that...Unless his kid's been kidnapped by a crazy Imperial doctor for the fifteenth time, on which point he starts becoming a little deranged. Crosshair hovers close to the line but wouldn't do it to someone unprovoked. Tech is a special case, in that he has to be pushed, but when he is, the results make the rest of the Nulls go "JESUS FUCKING CHRIST."

The Nulls want to reunite with their lost siblings and build a relationship, but that's kind of hard to do when said siblings (except Omega) keep trying to kill them on sight and none of them were built for intricate and deeply complicated emotional issues. Still, they persist. Eventually, they could probably get to the level of "awkward conversations" but it'll take a lot of work.

The Bad Batch have what makes the Nulls superior to regular clone troopers, plus their unique enhancements (which in this version are less defects and more Nala Se picking an attribute for each of them and cranking it up to 11). They feel that it makes them better than the Nulls, something they're not shy about expressing.

Emerie is the same height as her estranged (I can't think of a word that applies to this specific situation but this one will do) brothers, because I stan a tall queen.

Nala Se is smug as hell whenever she sees Orun Wa. "CT-9904 just broke all records for accuracy, CT-9902 discovered a new element, CT-9903 crushed beskar like it was paper, and CT-9901 tracked a man through five systems and a solar storm. What are your clones doing, again?"

There is no understating the sheer "wtf" that goes through the Nulls' heads when they first see Omega. But, of course, this is Omega. Imagine the cutest image of her you've seen, fanart or canon. That's what the Nulls see when they meet her. Unsurprisingly, the Nulls, who got the Mandalorian gene to adopt anything that isn't nailed down, go from "wtf" to "so smol 🥰" in roughly a minute.

Kal Skirata is in the corner. His attempt to interact with the Bad Batch did not go well. He casually calls Hunter "son," as he does with various characters, and the resulting explosion puts a thermal detonator to shame. Since it's clear that his presence is not making things better, he's sort of just in the corner.

The rest of Clan Skirata, and associates, are staying out of this. Gilamar and Vau took one look and retreated to the bar because they know better than to get involved. Everyone else witnessed one of the less acrimonious encounters and collectively decided that they are not jumping into the emotional equivalent of a pit of rabid wolverines.

Echo is the go-between. He does not want to be the go-between. But he's the only neutral party in this thing aside from Omega, and the rest of the Batch don't trust the Nulls with her.

Spare a though for 99. He raised four of these guys, often with the aid of leashes. Truly, he is an unsung hero of the Clone Wars