#doing lots of stuff so all that combined with the loads of people and noise everywhere

[seaofreverie]

Also I got these today

[i-identify-tanks-in-posts]

Less of an ID here, but what are your thoughts on the AbramsX, both as a platform as whole, and what technologies from it do you think will show up on future upgrades to the Abrams?

Oh boy, the Abrams X tech demo.

AKA: "Oh, so that's what the FCS program was for."

I have a lot of thoughts on the Abrams X, so, if you don't care to read all that, I'll leave a tl;dr at the bottom, in case someone wants to know my opinion without wanting to know why I have that opinion (for some reason.)

The Abrams X incorporates a lot of technology that excites me an awful lot. However, there are three things that stick out the most, so I'm gonna talk about them:

#1. The engine. The Abrams X uses a hybrid diesel engine (designed by Cadillac, if I remember correctly), which is a massive improvement over the current Abrams' gas turbine, which is less fuel efficient than just about every other MBT around. The new engine solves this problem by both switching to a hybrid design, which has greater performance, lesser noise, and lesser fuel consumption.

2. The turret/gun. It's remotely controlled, and miles better than the current m256, being lighter and even further integrated into optics/targeting. While I expect the real next-gen tanks to be equipping larger bore guns (in response to Russia and China looking to up-gun their next-gen MBTs), this Cannon is a fantastic intermediate step, and a great test bed/proof of concept for a remote-operated, auto-loading turret. This also drops the required crew down to 3, which may not seem like a big deal, but actually represents some pretty big stuff.

3. The integration. Ah, the "system of systems", come at last. Full integration to a combat network of drones, CAS fighters, other tanks, and in the future, perhaps fully autonomous ground vehicles. This is the thing that excites me most, as it means a truly massive level of integration and cooperation between every element of a combined arms forces, allowing every part to operate at a greater capacity. I've actually spoken with M1 tankers, and they seem most excited about the new Airplane-style helmets, and the level of coordination and targeting and spotting ability supplied by integrated drones.

However, it's not all sunshine and roses. With any massive leap forward in technology, this introduces a thousand thousand new potential points of failure into the system of every Abrams tank, which can cost lives when it counts. In addition, concerns have been expressed over the lowered crew count, saying that three people is not a reasonable number to expect to service and maintain a tank of the Abrams size out in the field, even with the supposed lower maintenance requirements of the Abrams X. Additionally, the smaller crew size and heavier focus on technology could indicate a shift in American tank ideology, towards the tanks being put out by other geopolitical powers, like China, Russia, and others.

So, to summarize, (here's that TL;DR I was talking about.) I think the Abrams is an incredibly promising test bed that is the culmination of the 1999-2009 Future Combat Systems program, and am excited to see how the technology will develop into the next generation of MBTs. However, I am cautious, as I can see several possible downsides to a lower crew size and a heavier reliance on tech.

[miss-tified]

Stop Multitasking! It Won’t Get You Any Further

Imagine it’s finals week. Deadlines are piling up. Finals, orals, long exams, essays are all up in the air. You’re running out of time. A lot of university students would think that doing things simultaneously or at the same time will help in finishing the tasks earlier. However, as time passed by, they noticed that even though they look like they are doing a lot by juggling all their requirements at once, they are not really making any progress on any of them. What seems to be the problem? It’s the study technique they are implementing that’s a big mistake. 

Multitasking is a new form of procrastination where instead of putting off a task, you try to combine it with something more enjoyable or double the task to finish faster. Be that as it may, it is a counterproductive coping mechanism that will deteriorate the brain’s memory over time. This decreases brain power for it exceeds the brain’s threshold of retaining information by trying to capture loads of data more than what it can handle at a quick pace, leading to overdrive.. 

To prevent this, one solution is to break down tasks into smaller chunks and time-block them with enough room for taking intentional breaks in between. Task breakdown can be further made easier using the Eisenhower Matrix wherein you prioritize important and urgent stuff first. Eliminate all distractions including phone, TV, and music with lyrics. A tip is to put those devices as far away from you as possible so the temptation to check on them is less. For extra measure, you can also put it on “Do Not Disturb” until your focus session has finished. If you find yourself being easily distracted still, try listening to brown or white noise, certain frequencies, classical music, Mario Kart soundtrack, or anything that you find to help you lock in the zone of concentration. 

Multitasking is one of the most famous study techniques students resort to when they are faced with overwhelming stress. It reels in a facade that doing more at once is efficient since it’s technically completing more work in a shorter amount of time. However, it is overlooked that studying and retention requires focus and our brains can only truly focus on one task at a time. All tasks will be given divided attention thus sacrificing quality and progress. Contrary to what most people think, multitasking is not just doing multiple tasks at the same time. It can also look like jumping from one task to another or getting distracted a lot and having your attention all over the place. This is quite common yet unbeknownst to students in this age where distractions are found left and right. 

In McGonigal’s TEDTalk, she emphasized that stress becomes bad when you have a negative perception about it. The only way of truly combating this habit is changing our mindset about stress. Multitasking is a product of getting stressed out over having to do so much in a short period of time. Why is there a huge pile of work due on the same day? Assuming that professors gave ample time to accomplish the requirements, this means that there is a lack of discipline and time management. Why is there a lack? Students see workload as a taxing job thus putting it off until the last minute. It’s important that we reset our perception on homework from laborious and boring to it being a privilege and a gateway to expanding our knowledge. To make it sound less pretentious, students can also focus on the end goal that if you prioritize accomplishing the important tasks first, then that leaves you more guiltless time for leisure afterwards. 

Personally, I have an addiction to multitasking. Yes, it has failed me through and through. It never works but I still keep doing it because of the craving that I anticipate from this habit. I always associate studying as pain and maybe if I just do something pleasurable such as watching a series or listening to bangers on the side then I can work better. I even try to convince myself and say, “I would not pay much attention to it, I just need something to play in the background and I’ll get the ball rolling.” Boy, was I wrong. I would end up ditching my homework and just lay in bed distracted with all sorts then to self-loathing afterwards for multitasking. In the habits discussion, this bad habit is enabled because of a craving which the dopamine rush from instant gratification. The result of overstimulation while trying to absorb and understand concepts guarantees to be a failure every time.

Even with the evident undesirable aftermath of multitasking, there are still people who believe that it works. Some employers encourage applicants who put “multitasking” as a skill. In the show “Gilmore Girls," the top straight A student protagonist used a cramming method of switching back and forth 3 subjects as it proves to “produce better results.” It’s dangerous since it gives a false sense of productivity meanwhile what it actually does is increase the risk of getting distracted and driving yourself to burn out. 

Trust me, if you want something done. Focus on that task at hand first then save the pleasure for later.

[sleepdeprivedsimp234]

AUGHHHH MY HEART <3 /pos

Silly:

I’ve never heard of combining ice cream and soy sauce, but strangely I can see NY liking it lmao. He probably uses it to freak out all the other states tbh. He stares into their souls as he eats it, enjoying the fear and confusion in their eyes. And with a smile, he’ll do it again :)

Honestly him stealing other state’s clothes (hoodies, shirts, tank tops, sometimes sweatpants) has always been a headcanon for me and it holds a special place in my heart. I imagine that the bigger clothes make him feel safe and protected 🥺😭 Though one time he stole one of Alaska’s hoodies and it ended up being the equivalent to a weighted blanket. Poor thing was stuck. He also likes to think that the others don’t notice, but they do. And they think it’s cute and wholesome.

Him having a friendship with Loui will ALWAYS hold a special place in my heart and I can 100% see them reading picture books together 😭🧡. They’ve probably both made a picture book together at some point tbh. Also- NY seeing a book he thinks Loui would like and bringing it to him for their next We-Can’t-F*ckin-Sleep session? YES PLEASE-

FKSGDKSHDKSHDKSHDKSHDKS HIM PAINTING PARTS OF THE STATES DEPENDING ON WHO HE’S MAD AT IS GREAT 😭😭

Tell me why I read this and instantly thought of those acting TikTok’s where the boys wear towels on their heads to represent women/girls 😭💀 NY is the type to throw his jacket over his head and just randomly run at people to hear them scream and run away. He is quite the silly lil fella.

He probably hides a lot of stuff in his beanie and candy is 100% one of those things 😭 he probably also has a rat chilling up there ratatouille style lmao

Angst:

He is the literal definition of sleep deprived 😭 He can fall asleep standing, hanging upside down, all that. Yet when it comes to him actually having to go to bed and go to sleep, he can’t. He just- can’t. Especially not with the nightmares about the war and abuse, the sh*t load of work, and the fact that he feels as though he doesn’t deserve to take a break. Till eventually, he gets sick and passes out. I can also see him using makeup to hide the fact that he’s tired.

NY literally cannot handle loud noise and if he doesn’t disappear, he’ll have a panic attack in front of everyone. Which would be embarrassing. And he’d be seen as weak. Which he does NOT want

I mean- it’s canon that he’s always stressed, he said it himself. "Ya can’t feel somethin’ that’s always there." Like- AUGH. So when things get too much he goes on a never-ending working spree and locks himself up for a while, barely sleeping, eating or drinking anything that’s not coffee. Also- I hc that he picks at his skin and scratches himself, so he’ll often times have scratches and cuts on his hands as well as bleeding and peeling on his fingertips/nailbeds/sides of his fingers.

HIM BEING ABLE TO COMFORT OTHERS BUT NOT HIMSELF??? ABSOLUTELY- he also probably rejects an help that is offered to him cuz he hates feeling like a burden to his loved ones. Then that’s when the others sic the Midwest, OG13, or probably Loui on him 😭. They make sure that some food is put in his system, but they don’t force-feed him or anything. Instead, they’ll calmly sit with him until he’s finished eating and just talk to him and remind him that they’re there for him if he needs a shoulder to cry on.

NY vanishing to somewhere where he won’t be found is fully accurate lmao. He probably goes to Wyoming the most cuz Wyoming understands him to an extent and understands if he wants to be left alone. Iowa would probably try to take him in like one would a lost a child. All the OG13 and Main 6 keep a VERY close eye on NY, making sure that he’s not hurting himself and helping him if they notice he’s stressed and/or overwhelmed. If it’s during a meeting, they’ll cover his ears and teleport him out of the meeting.

He’s definitely attempted before. Just saying. He still sometimes hopes that maybe the immortality wore off.

This man is definitely a wall puncher and has broken his hand or bruised his hand from doing so (he’s the definition of glass bones and paper skin-). NY seems to be on that line between being afraid of fire and loving fire. Like-"Oooo pretty- but danger- but pretty- but danger- I’m gonna lick it-"

Do you have any silly hc’s and ansgty hc’s for NY?

**it’s fine if not lol**

Hii! Ooo thank you for the ask, and I may have a few of both kinds of hc's for him :D

New York's silly hc's:

-He has tried ice cream and soy sauce together because he read about it in a book and surprisingly, he doesn't hate the combination. (the book is King of Wrath by Ana Huang, which is set in New York)

-I like to think that he tries on the shoes of the bigger states in the statehouse because he finds fun in doing so. New York was wearing Texas's huge dress shoes and tripped on them, and Alaska so happened to be nearby and helped him up, which got Alaska to be the one to first notice this habit of his.

-He and Louisiana read picture books together on nights when they can't go to sleep. Sometimes they're picture books that New York himself wrote, other times they're picture books that New York finds in his local bookstore that he thinks Loui would like.

-Whenever he's angry at a certain state, he paints a portrait of them that portrays them in the ugliest way possible. It could be a painting of the state's face with the ugliest color combos and/or purposefully messed up proportions or he may paint a part of the state that the state considere to be ugly or unattractive (ie. if here were madam at Texas, he'd paint Austin bc TX thinks that Austin is ugly, California w/ Bakersfield, Michigan w/ the border shared between him and Ohio, etc)

-He sometimes likes to wear his coats on his head like a wig and walks around the statehouse as he's doing so. And he likes to style it too: sometimes the coat looks like a whole ass muffin on his head (think of how people with long hair wrap a towel around their hair after a shower). Everyone else thinks he looks insane, but he's happy doing it for some reason.

-He hides candy in his beanie and nobody knows.

New York's angsty hc's:

-He has a terrible relationship with sleep. He can't sleep because of flashbacks of his past, he can't sleep because of his workload, and sometimes he doesn't sleep on purpose just to punish himself.

-He likes to lock himself in his room when the statehouse gets too loud. It reminds him of his past again (with all the wars and stuff) and he prefers not to interact with anyone at all for a few days to deal with it.

-[TW: self-harm] Whenever he does something that doesn't reach his own standards, he hurts himself in many ways. He indulges in his never ending workload, he stays up all night, he doesn't eat, and he can't talk to anyone without screaming at them (which hurts NY bc he doesn't like hurting his loved ones).

-He likes to cook for others but rarely finds the will to cook for himself sometimes, much less eat. It's the same way with comforting others: he always is the first to try and uplift somebody yet he can never uplift himself when he needs to.

-He likes to disappear whenever he gets too overwhelmed. The fellas in the Northeast always try and look for him whenever he does so, but New York always finds a spot where he knows he can't be found (usually in Wyoming and Iowa since they're usually forgotten, and both states seem peaceful to me), so they just wait for him to return home hoping he's okay. There was an occasion where he came back with cuts and bruises all over his body to the point he was hospitalized, and though the northeast states thought it was bc of a fight, it turned out to be self-inflicted injuries. The northeast now keep an eye out for any sign that NY's stressed out/overwhelmed so they can go talk to him before he decides to disappear again.

-[TW: suicidal thoughts] He likes to think about not being immortal & what life would be like if only he were to be able to die like normal humans. Sometimes he doesn't have the will to live and finds it so hard to accept that he can't just die. This fic by @xechoecho88x is a great story that ties along with this specific headcanon if you're interested in reading something like this :D

-He has a severely damaged wall designed for when he needs to let out some anger. To go along the lines of this, he likes fire and burns random things to keep himself at ease. The only thing that he regrets burning is an old necklace given to him by a friendly old lady he met & befriended in upstate. Her death took a toll on him and he burned the only thing that reminded him of her so he wouldn't mourn as much, but all he feels now is regret.

That's all I have, I hope you like it :D Thank you sm again for your ask, I appreciate it so much <3

[blu-joons]

Colouring His Tattoos ~ Jeon Jungkook

Jungkook’s tattoos had always been a part of him that fascinated you greatly. As you woke up that morning and noticed that the sleeve of his shirt had ridden up, exposing many of the pieces of art that he wore, your hand naturally began to reach out.

He was yet to wake as the tip of your finger began to delicately trace along the tattoos that covered his wrist and hand, which held on tightly to the duvet. The sensation of your skin against his was soon something that began to make Jungkook stir however, a smile arising on his face as soon as his eyes opened.

The smile that you wore whenever you traced along his tattoos always caused his heart to flutter, watching as you tried to peek through the hair that had fallen in front of your face overnight brought a gentle giggle out of him.

The noise made you jump as you looked up to see Jungkook staring back at you, wide awake, with a grin etched across his face. Your hand slipped away from his wrist as you moved your hands to rest against his shoulders, leaning closer towards him to greet him with a kiss against his cheek.

“Enjoying yourself?” He teased.

Your head nodded, instantly feeling your cheeks begin to light up. “I just can’t help myself, it’s such a relaxing thing to do, so many intricate details that I can’t risk missing a single one of them.”

“Maybe rather than trace them, you could try something else,” he suggested, kissing against the top of your head. “We could always try colouring them instead?”

Your head tilted up to stare at him, unable to stop the smile from growing on your face. “That would be pretty cool, I’ve always thought about what your tattoos would look like if they had a bit of colour to them.”

“I’m sure I’ve got some pens lying around somewhere in here with my art stuff.”

His arms unwrapped from around you, walking over to one of his dressing tables, pulling out the drawer that had all of his art supplies in. “Make sure you don’t pick up anything permanent,” you warned as he began to scour through, “management will not be impressed.”

“Don’t worry, I’ve got some felt tips somewhere.”

You continued to watch him closely, as he pulled out a metal tin, carrying it over to the bed. You sat yourself up as Jungkook slid back underneath the duvet, tipping the contents of the tin into your lap to look through.

“There’s so many colours,” you grinned, taking his arm and rolling up the sleeve of his pyjama shirt so that you had as many of his tattoos exposed as possible.

Jungkook shuffled closer in anticipation, “see what colours you like. We can always do this again and see if there’s some better colour combinations we could use.”

“This is going to be so fun,” you grinned, resting your head against his shoulder as you looked down and tried to figure out which colours you wanted to try first. “Can I just do whatever?”

“Whatever you want,” Jungkook assured you, “I’ve got every confidence in you so just do whatever feels natural, I’m sure I’ll love it anyway knowing that you’re the one who’s designed it,” he grinned, as you rolled your eyes back at him.

Your hand reached out and picked up the purple pen first, turning his hand so that you could get to the logo that he had on the side of his hand.

“There’s only one place that I can really start.”

“A true army,” he sniggered, as you popped the lid off the pen and began to colour it in. Your touch was still as soft as ever, enough to bring a nervous giggle out of Jungkook at the sensation of the pen brushing against his skin, tickling him ever so softly.

Your head could only shake at the way his nose scrunched up at how feathery the feeling of the pen was along such a sensitive part of his skin. Whilst he giggled away, you carefully coloured in the logo perfectly, making sure that you didn’t go out of the lines of his tattoo once.

“I think you should get more tattoos just so I can do this more often,” you spoke up as you moved onto his eye next, deepening the shade of red that he already wore. “I’ve been thinking a lot recently about other tattoos you could maybe get one day.”

“I didn’t realise you gave my tattoos so much thought,” he admitted, turning his arm as you guided it so that you could colour where you wanted. “There have been a few ideas springing to mind recently about other things I could get. I really want to get something significant again, with a lot of meaning.”

Your head nodded as his eyes studied the concentration in your face, “what sort of thing would you want to represent in a tattoo?”

“I was thinking maybe you.”

You instantly stopped colouring, turning your head to look at him with wide eyes. “You’ve been thinking about getting something for me? Really?”

Jungkook didn’t reply, too excited by the idea to really express to you how he felt. Without you knowing, he’d had plenty of thoughts about tattoos that he could get for you. His scrapbook was already filled, kept a secret so you couldn’t see how keen he was by the idea.

As you turned back to colouring in his tattoo, your mind couldn’t stop thinking about the idea of a tattoo dedicated to you too. You knew how important each of his tattoos was, slightly surprised that you meant enough to him too to join the others he already had.

“Loads of people keep telling me that we should look at a couples tattoo,” he suddenly spoke up once you’d finished colouring in his eye, “have you ever thought about getting a tattoo?”

Your eyes met his once again, “it’s not something that I would say no to, if it was the right one.”

“So, you’d look into getting one with me?” He asked, resting his hands against your legs as you placed the pen back into your lap. “Because I’m sure there’s plenty of ideas that we could look at getting together, I’ve always thought couple’s tattoos were such a romantic thing to get together.”

“I’ll think about it,” you chuckled, “I don’t want you to get yourself too excited just yet.”

“Sorry,” he blushed, “I know it’s a big deal, but I just feel like you’re always going to be a part of my life, so why not get something on my body that too will always be a part of my life.”

Your head shook at how giddy he became, brushing your hand through his hair in an attempt to try and calm him down. “I said I’ll think about it,” you reminded him as his head nodded.

As you continued to colour through some more of his tattoos, light giggles continued to escape from him as he thought about all the things that he could get. Even if you chose not to, his mind was made up, he wanted a tattoo, just for you.

“Draw something,” he suddenly whispered, “whatever you draw I’ll get it tattooed into my sleeve.”

“Are you serious?” You doubtfully quizzed.

“Why not? At least that way I’ll have an extra special tattoo, just for you,” he smiled, “whatever springs to mind.”

“That’s a lot of pressure,” you frowned.

“Not when I trust in you, I know you’ll create something perfect for me.”

---

Masterlist

[sunflowersseemhappy]

The Arcana | Little Romantic Gestures Headcannons

Asra

A lot of Asra’s little romantic gestures are aimed at getting you to smile, he spent so long watching you struggle after he brought you back that all he wants is to see you happy.

Ever since he started travelling Asra has always brought souvenirs from his trips. Things he thinks you’ll like. Although he knows you so well that what he brings you never fails to make you happy at how thoughtful he is. It’s only after the whole ‘saving the world thing’ that you realise this was a gesture of his affection for you all those years.

Tied in with bringing you souvenirs Asra loves to spoil you every once in a while with a outfit tailored to you. Clothes that make you look stunning in the most modest of ways, leading to everyone else complimenting you. Asra has a critical eye when it comes to fashion and making the love of his life look good.

His goofiest gesture is probably making heart shaped foods for you, this only began after his confession of love (before then he made little animals and flowers from the food he gave you). Its an intricate process, but Asra definitely has the patience.

Once every-so-often Asra will ask if you want to bathe together, there is generally no other reason than he wants to pamper you/feel you close to him. Asra will draw a bath and cradle you in the water, and you’ll both just talk and give each other soft kisses.

When the night is waning and the candles burn low Asra will ask to cuddle in close with yo u and puts his head against your chest listening to the beating of your heart. He doesn’t consider it his anymore, he gave it to you, therefore it is yours. But he hopes the connection between your hearts will always be this strong.

Julian

Julian can be a little distracted when if comes to romantic gestures, big ones get lost in his planning for them. The little romantic gestures Julian gives you have no plans, just him and his complete adoration for you.

It’s like clockwork. Julian is awake as soon as the sun rises and quickly brings you morning coffee/tea/or whatever you favourite morning wake up beverage is. It’s simple and maybe you do or don’t notice it, but it’s always fresh, like he knows exactly when you’ll wake up and makes it just before you do. If you manage to catch him after he leaves it on your bedside table you give him a good morning kiss (he deserves it).

If either of you are out and separated from each other for the day Julianhides lovely little notes in your pockets. Poems, quotes, even simple ‘I love you’’s. One is always there, you save each and every one in a box under your bed and look through them while he’s gone. You plan to one day stuff them all in his coat as both a prank and a grand romantic gesture. He has the same idea, so right now it’s a waiting game to see who gets to it first.

He doesn’t necessarily do it on purpose or even in your presence, but Julian absentmindedly sketches little portraits of you in the margins of his books/scrolls/whatever paper is on hand. He’s committed you to memory and when he realises Julian gets flustered, is it weird that he just does that? After you discover a whole sketchbook of you, you pretend not to know even though you secretly love it. He can show you when he’s ready.

If he’s drunk or sober Julian will shamelessly flirt with you when he knows you need some love. He loves it when you do so back. Most of it is PG, but if you want him to Julian will most certainly compliment you on your finest assets *wink, wink*.  

Anywhere and anytime Julian will just stop, look into your eyes, smile and honestly tell you how much he loves you. It’s probably the most beautiful gesture of love you can think of, its just that pure. 

 Nadia

The moments spent with Nadia would usually be considered mundane to most, but that’s what makes them so pleasant. As a countess and former princess, Nadia doesn’t usually get to enjoy ‘normal’ so the moments spent with you are the best sense of normality that she can get.

Nadia is such a busy bee that by the time you wake up she’s off doing her morning duties, so she (like Julian) leaves you little love notes, usually accompanied by breakfast. The notes are always written in her hand, on scented paper and laid with a beautiful flower. On more than a few occasions her notes have made up mini scavenger hunts, just to keep you on your feet and lead you to where she is in the castle at a later time.

If she can avoid morning duties Nadia will spend time helping you with hair and makeup, she likes making you feel beautiful/handsome/gorgeous and just looking at your face brings a smile to her lips. Her skills always seem to make you look better and you wonder how she’s so good at it.

As anyone would Nadia finds your magical abilities fascinating and loves to watch you work on spells and the like, she also asks about things genuinely interested in what you are doing and how you do it. She thinks possessing such a skill as magic is like an extension of you yourself and she loves all of you (therefore she loves your magic). Given the chance Nadia could watch you work all day, alas palace duties call but she always asks you later in the day how that spell you had been working on went. 

Nadia is forever inviting you on long walks through the palace grounds at the end of her day. There’s nothing more relaxing than walking though the palace grounds and just talking about each other’s days. She’ll always let you talk about your day first, no matter how dull it may have been. She likes to find things out, figure out ways to entertain you while she is busy and plan out activities the two of you can try out together. She also just really likes listening to you, she’s had people talking AT her all day. It’s a nice change of pace to actually have a person to talk to about everything.

Tied in with doing your hair Nadia can’t help but play with your hair,she only usually does it in the privacy of your room but when she does you’re on cloud nine. Something about her hands trailing though your hair is so soothing that it sends you to sleep, which isn’t a problem in itself. The problem is; you fall asleep on her, and Nadia hates waking you up. So she just lies there and accepts her fate with a smile. 

 Muriel

Muriel doesn’t necessarily realise he’s making his little romantic gestures, to him they just feel like a normal part of his day but he’s glad to do them. They make him feel close to you and make him more comfortable with being in a relationship.

Muriel can cook, but he’s spent so long making meals that just state his hunger he forgot food could taste good. Since living with you and learning about you Muriel has discovered he quite likes making your favourite meals, not only because they are tasty but it’s nice seeing the smile on your face when you realise he made the meal just for you. Also you seem to like his way of making your favourites rather than your own.

It’s normal for Muriel to do his own chores around and out of the hut, and although you usually tell him to leave your own messes for you to clean up later Muriel can’t help but get itchy fingers. Doing your chores for you, he thinks he might as well, what’s more he wants to. You’re so busy running the shop, buying nice things for him and just making his life brighter, its only fair to lighten the load.

Even Muriel knows people like flowers, and what’s more you give flowers to the people you love. So Muriel finds flowers everyday and gives them to you, it might just be a single rose or a bundle of forget-me-nott’s but each flower he picks out is carefully chosen and perfect. It took him some time but Muriel soon figured out the perfect combinations of flowers to give to you, sometimes they say things better than he can.

Being the big shy boi he is Muriel remains pretty quiet when the two of you are out and about among other people. Even among your friends he can get pretty uncomfortable when trying to love and dote on you, therefore it’s not uncommon for Muriel to pull you aside to compliment you. It’s easier getting words out when it’s just the two of you and he wants you to know that he does notice things. Like how shiny your hair looks and how well your clothes suit you, it’s not just physical things either. He might mention how kind you are after helping a lost child find their parents or that he just really likes being with you. 

Once he’s gotten used to them being enveloped in a Muriel hug is probably always a great feeling.You don’t actually notice at first but he holds you in that embrace for a little longer than a normal hug (especially when you’re leaving to go on an errand, etc...), when your arms loosen his own take a little longer to do so. He gives you a gentle squeeze and sighs in his head, he wants to hold you longer. Forever, maybe. He’s too afraid to ask though, but when you finally do notice his hesitance and think back on all the times he was the last to let go, it clicks. You can be late opening the shop, as long as Muriel knows that you love him as much as he does you. You both hug each other a little longer. 

 Portia

Portia romantic gestures almost make it seem as if you are married already, her little gestures are comforting and you’re always aware she does them because she always states; ‘I’m doing this because I love you!’ She needs to make sure you know because she loves love, and loves you.

A good meal never goes amiss when it’s with Portia, you know how a lot of people leave the best thing on their plate till last? That’s what Portia does. However she always offers the last bite of her food to you, even if you’re eating the same meal. If you’re in the same room, eating at the same time Portia will lift her fork to your mouth and offer it to you. It’s usually quite funny because she kids around, making silly noises as she puts in your mouth or teasing you by holding it just out of reach.She’s a good cook, Portia’s peach cakes are to die for. 

She’s aware of how much you like her cooking, so when you’re off to work in the shop for the day she will pack you a hearty lunch and send you on your way with a kiss on the cheek. She want’s to make sure you have a balanced meal ready for you when you need it, it helps that she makes it because it’s irresistible! The first time you made a packed lunch for her (because damn this girl works hard, and how does she make the time?) she burst out crying saying how happy she was that you loved her enough to make her lunch. You figured out that that was one of Portia’s romantic gestures that day, now you make packed lunches together. 

Days off with Portia are full of sunshine and relaxation, most of which is spent in her veracious garden tending to the plants and chatting away about your week so far. It’s a peaceful pastime, when the sun is highest in the sky and it becomes too hot to work you and Portia take up residence beneath the maple tree she has growing on the fringes of the garden. There the two of you lay back and feed each other berries/fruit/veg from garden, there’s always something ripe and fresh that tastes like sunshine and rain. It’s got to the point where it’s become a part of your day, where Portia and you just flirt and kiss and enjoy the mundane parts of your lives. It’s her favourite thing to do.

She wouldn’t be Julian’s sister if Portia wasn’t a shameless flirt, she’ll do it anytime, anywhere and in front of anyone. She gets a certain kick out of seeing your cheeks redden, but she’s careful to keep it at a comfortable level for the situation. You wouldn’t think a simple ‘I love you’ could sound so... flirtatious but Portia may just be better at this than her brother.

Even Portia doesn’t realise she’s rubbing your back for no reason until she’s actually doing it. It’s not always a situational thing, but it often happens when your uncomfortable/scared, or when you’re relaxing. It makes the both of you feel better, you’re both together standing by each others side and figuring things out together. She’s glad the two of you can be there together, but she’s still not sure why she does it. After mentioning it to Julian, he says something about how their mother used to do it to the two of them when they were upset. Their mother had always whispered ‘I love you’ as she did so, Portia figured out it was her subconscious way of saying ‘I love you’. It was a strange time when you did it back, because for a moment she felt like she had her mother back. For a moment you made her feel complete. 

Lucio

Lucio’s extravagant, and so are his ‘little’ romantic gestures (it scares you to think what his big romantic gestures must look like). But whatever he does it’s with good intentions that become skewered when he goes over the top. You’re his king/queen, he intends to treat you as such.

One day Lucio, left alone as you tend the shop, thinks back to your conversation about favourite meals. He remembers you saying about a dish you loved but could never find a certain ingredient, so a scheme forms in the back of his mind. How better to express his love for his dearest by making their favourite meal. He debates getting the servants to make it, but... When you come back Lucio is nowhere to be found, you search everywhere and almost pass by the kitchens. There are audible crashes and some swearing, when you step in you find Lucio covered in flour. He’s very embarrassed, but explains that he found the ingredients and wanted to make it himself. He got confused and ended up making a mess instead, you can’t laugh because it’s almost too sweet that he tried. The next day you spend together is teaching Lucio to cook the dish and enjoying the fruits of your labour.

Lucio just so happens to like your face a lot, so he brings in an artist and commissions a portrait of you you. Only problem is he want’s it to be a surprise, but the artist can only paint what he can see and you’re not there. The end result is a culmination of his terribly drawn doodles and the vague descriptions he gave the artist. You’re horrified when you find it in your room. Lucio instantly throws it out and begs you to pose for the artist this time, he just wanted a really nice portrait of you so that even when you’re gone he can see your beautiful face. You insist that he poses with you and you get a much better portrait of you and Lucio.

You often humour Lucio while listening to his stories time and again, and he’s kind of aware that he’s probably told you a story before. He does about 90% of the talking in this relationship, but when you tell him stories he hangs on every word. While you let him ramble non-stop Lucio is always politely asking you to elaborate on things because he wants to hear more! No matter what Lucio has never once told you that he’s 'heard that story before'.He’d be fine with you saying it to him, but he could never do so to you. All he wants is to hang on your every word and see your face shift into different expressions, happiness, sadness, excitement and disgust. He wants to see it all because knowing every part of you as a person makes him happy and love you all the more.

Lucio believes the most romantic thing ever is people dancing together (at a point he thought it was fighting together, but the two are close enough), the way he saw people at his masquerades dance together made him long for the perfect partner. Although Nadia was always a good dancer it never felt natural with her, when you came along he found his true partner. There have since been many times where he has led you into and impromptu slow dance. No matter when, where or who is present, its like a natural part of your lives, Lucio loves it. Twirling and dipping you and making you feel like the centre of the solar system, because to him he is just a planet and you are his radiant sun.

I had a lot of fun writing this, but what I really want is you lovely people to send in requests to my ask box! Don’t be shy, I accept any type of request (fluff, angst, smut, etc...) for any of the main six. Anonymous is on, but if you’d like to request with your handle that would be great!

Lots of love! XOXO 

[a-man-for-hire-and-his-archives]

Black Sails’ Toby Stephens on Captain Flint and the Final Season

Black Sails will return to Starz on January 29, 2017 for its fourth and final season. When we last left the pirates, Captain Flint (Toby Stephens) was beginning the revolution in Nassau and Long John Silver’s (Luke Arnold) star was rising. We recently got a chance to chat with Toby Stephens about the end of the series, what’s coming for Flint and working on this epic show. Check out his thoughts on season four below!

Here is the official synopsis:

The fourth season opens with hundreds of British soldiers dead in a forest… the Royal Navy sails back to England in retreat… the West Indies are now a war zone, and the shores of New Providence Island have never been bloodier. With the help of Eleanor Guthrie, Woodes Rogers transforms Nassau into a fortress without walls, as Captain Flint amasses a fleet of unprecedented strength, hoping to strike the final blow against civilization and reshape the world forever. Meanwhile, from within the island… an insurgency builds, fueled by the legend of its exiled leader, whose name keeps grown men awake at night… the one they call “Long John Silver.”

But as Flint, Silver and their allies are about to learn, the closer civilization comes to defeat, the more desperately and destructively it will fight back. Oaths will be shattered, fortunes will change hands, and amidst the chaos, only one thing remains certain: it has never been more dangerous to call oneself a pirate.

xxxx

Legion of Leia: I was in South Africa on the set when you were filming that crazy storm sequence in season three. What sort of set pieces are we going to see this time around?

Toby Stephens: It’s huge. There’s loads of stuff that will keep fans extremely happy, I’m sure.

Legion of Leia: Flint had a crazy few seasons. I’m curious about whether or not you think his destiny was set with Miranda’s (Louise Barnes) death.

Toby Stephens: I think yes, it kind of compounded the way he was going. I mean, I think before Miranda died, maybe people could reason him out of certain choices, but I think when Miranda dies, that’s the last nail in the coffin in terms of him going after England in this relentless way. And also, I would say, the other thing that compounds it is finding an ally in Silver. The fact that they become partners in this enterprise, it seems that Flint can only function when he has somebody who he’s allied with or is an alter-ego for him. Someone who can balance him and he can work through. So that is both good for him and bad for him in a way.

Legion of Leia: In the last episode, there is that conversation between Flint and Silver where they’re like, oh, we’re friends. But bad things happen to Flint’s friends. We know a bit about where this is going to go because of “Treasure Island.” What’s ahead for Flint here?

Toby Stephens: Yeah, well, I think it’s really the end game for the whole series, and we know it’s a tragedy because there was no great revolution in the pirate world. There was no emancipation of the pirates and the slaves. It didn’t happen, so why did it not happen and what happens to Flint at the end of that, when his dreams are crushed? What happens to Silver and him? How does that play out? And also, how does the Silver that we know become the eponymous Long John Silver of “Treasure Island?” How does that happen? And I think season four brilliantly leads us to a point where where, it’s a very satisfying ending, but also leaves you to fill in the gaps between there and “Treasure Island.” You kind of know who these people are at the end of this, but it’s a kind of really cool thing to allow people to do that themselves rather than go, look, this is what happens, all the way to the end. It leaves you to do some work yourself.

Legion of Leia: I love that. This show has sent me to Wikipedia more often than you would believe!

Toby Stephens: [laughs] I know!

Legion of Leia: How much research do you do for a role like this, or do you rely mostly on the script?

Toby Stephens: Do you know what? It’s a combination of laziness and there is method to it. I just go with what is in the script. I mean, like you, I’ll go to Wikipedia if I need to know something, if I don’t know what something is. But whether or not it has real historic context, for me is immaterial because I’m working in a fictive world. It’s a fictive world with dashes here or there of historic fact. A pinch here, a pinch there, and I need to work in that world, so it’s better if I stick there.

Legion of Leia: I did love seeing how much was actually built on the set and how many little touches were there, historical and fictive, both.

Toby Stephens: Yeah, what I love is the detail in terms of everybody else, the props, etc. There was a lot of care taken about what would have been there, what wouldn’t have been there, creating that texture of the world, where you can believe it.

Legion of Leia: When we were there, we were hearing stories of bugs in the walls!

Toby Stephens: We were always having problems with–there were these crickets. And they would get in. We would call them “sea crickets!” [laughs] You would be in a take and you would hear [makes cricket noises]. We’re supposed to be in the middle of something scene! [laughs] Or there would be birds up in the rigging going “cheep, cheep!” And you just go, oh my God, there’s another hour in ADR!

Legion of Leia: Did you have to do a ton of ADR?

Toby Stephens: Oh yeah! I have become the master of ADR. I breeze it now! I kind of like it because sometimes you can actually improve things. You know? There was a scene I did in the first season where it was with Gates (Mark Ryan), and it was a storm, and we’re having this conversation and we’re having a drink, and we’re on the set–it was the beginning when they used to gimbal the set. It was so noisy! There was water coming in, dripping everywhere. They wanted it to look authentic. Because it was quite a stressful set to be on [laughs], for some reason my [in a high-pitched voice] my voice was up here! I watched it–I mean, I had to loop it because there was so much noise there, but I thought, I sound like an hysteric! I managed to re-voice the whole thing and kind of couch it where Flint speaks normally. That’s a case in point where you can really improve on things.

Legion of Leia: I can’t imagine trying to speak clearly during some of those storm scenes!

Toby Stephens: I mean, it was mad! This job was amazing because I loved the people and I loved working on it, but there are aspects that I won’t miss. It was totally exhausting. By the end of this last season, I was literally hanging in rags, because it makes such demands on you. You’ve got enormous amounts of dialogue and enormous amounts of acting to do, and then at the same time, you’ve got all of this physical stuff to do, and it’s day in and day out. And you’re in the costumes and you’re in baking heat, and it was long, long days. No other job I would be able to do, in terms of acting–I mean, I’m not working in a coal mine–but there is no other job I could do that would come near this. It sort of made me immune to–it made everything else seem like a breeze. It was so arduous. And some of the stuff we did in season four, some of the stuff that I did towards the end, it was really difficult. Really difficult.

Legion of Leia: Having seen that storm scene and the tanks of water being dumped on you and the ship moving back and forth and the yelling–it was crazy!

Toby Stephens: Yeah, it was also the length of time it went on for. Because we also did two weeks straight, and then we kept on coming back for pickups because it was so particular. And also, it’s part of the reason why I’m so proud of the show, is that they had such exacting standards for what they wanted. They’d cut it together and realize they were missing bits, or that they could get bits better, but it was a drag. You had to get back on this deck and they were spraying you with stuff and they had the engines on. It was brutal. But you look at the end result and you go, that will stand. In ten years time, it will look amazing.

Legion of Leia: What are you going to miss the most, now that the show is over?

Toby Stephens: I think I’ll miss all the people that I worked with. One of the things about the job is, you create these very intense and very fun relationships with people, creative relationships with people, very creative, and then they dissolve and move on. I’ll miss that, and working with such great writers. John [Steinberg], Robert [Levine] and Dan [Shotz], you know, just brilliant writing, fantastic showrunners. They were so good and we had a really intense relationship. I’ll miss that.

Legion of Leia: What do you have coming up next?

Toby Stephens: So I just started doing the reinvention of Lost In Space for Netflix, so I literally just started working for them. I’m really excited for that. It’s a brilliant segue from one genre to another. [laughs] It’s a really fun reinvention of it. It’s really clever, and I’m really excited about it. I think this will be fun in terms of, it’s servicing fans, making a show for now.

Legion of Leia: Also, different costumes. Maybe not so much wool in the heat!

Toby Stephens: I think it will be differently uncomfortable. [laughs]

Legion of Leia: Those costumes were insane and it was so hot while you were filming.

Toby Stephens: Yeah, it was tough, and also in the brutal sun all day long. Standing on ships. It was killer. And the boots. I remember always complaining. I bitched and moaned about my boots all the time. [laughs] These things are killing me! Can you imagine these pirates going, “Jeeze, man! Couldn’t we have flip flops? Could we have a pair of thongs? Why do we have to wear these things?” [laughs]

Legion of Leia: I feel like pirates should have worn fewer clothes!

Toby Stephens: Yeah! [laughs] But apparently they didn’t. They didn’t, actually. The whole thing of pirates wearing all of that is baloney. They actually–they had very light shirts and stuff. Apparently they just didn’t wear much.

Legion of Leia: That was for fancy pirates.

Toby Stephens: And also, it was just for show. Also, what Black Sails kind of gets into is, a lot of it was p.r. It was p.r. by the English, because they wanted to demonize these people, but it was also their own p.r.–like Blackbeard having fuses on his beard and stuff like that. It was all to make people scared.

Legion of Leia: You can see that even with what Billy [Tom Hopper] is doing at the end of season three with Silver.

Toby Stephens: Yeah, and here’s a really fun thing. You get to the end of this season, and you take a screenshot of characters at the end of this season and you compare them to screenshots from the beginning of season one and they’re just like–the journey that they’ve been on, and the toll it’s taken on them is really cool. I mean, Luke just looks terrible at the end of it! And he was so beautiful at the beginning! [laughs] And the same with Tom Hopper who plays Billy Bones. You see he’s headed towards the Billy Bones of “Treasure Island.”

Legion of Leia: I wanted to ask you about Flint and Billy. There is such a tense relationship there with so much history. How is that going to shift this season?

Toby Stephens: Yeah, it really comes to a head. It comes to blows. They’re not going to be able to–it’s really interesting the way Billy goes, I think, in this season. It’s been a long time coming.

Legion of Leia: Do you think Flint has any of the idealism left that he had at the beginning?

Toby Stephens: Well, what’s really interesting at the end of it, one realizes how personal this is for Flint. And that, actually, it’s not really some altruistic scheme that he has to liberate everybody. He’s playing out his own psychodrama in reality. And how demented–how he will not stop. How it will go on and on and on. And somebody has to stop that. You know, it’s a tragedy because we know that there was no–it’s got to end somewhere. It’s not going to be good.

Legion of Leia: I do have to ask you about working with your family! [Toby’s wife Anna-Louise Plowman plays Mrs. Hudson and his brother Chris Larkin joined the cast as a Redcoat this season]

Toby Stephens: Yeah! It was wonderful, actually! It was so wonderful because I hadn’t spent so much time with my brother for a while. And was really great hanging out with him. And it was a bit strange. We had one scene where we were given direction to look at each other across–we had no lines together, but we had to look at each other across this town square. And I suddenly realized, this is really difficult because nobody on Earth knows me as well as my brother does. And to try and pretend with one another is just impossible! There cannot be any artifice! [laughs] So both of us, it was hopeless! I said, you look at my chest and I’ll look at your forehead. [laughs] It’s impossible! You can’t hide!

Are you guys excited for season four? Let us know in the comments! Black Sails will return to Starz on January 29, 2017.

sources: Legion of Leia (unfortunately I can't put link because it wasn't secured)

[buglife]

Bend and Not Break - Ch 4: A Scar

Read here on AO3 :3

Contains 100% more smooches!

Xena stepped lightly as she opened the door to one of the interrogation rooms, narrowing her eyes as she adjusted to the dim light. The room had been quickly converted to a makeshift recovery room, the table that usually sat in the middle of the room had been pushed aside and replaced with a cot. Said cot was loaded with pillows and blankets in an effort to take as much pressure off the occupant's injuries as possible. Resting peacefully on it was Poppy, the scorpion rescued from the basement of a disgraced noble and had her venom forcibly extracted by torture. She seemed to be doing much better, her body was now criss-crossed with bandages and she was no longer twitching. She seemed to be sleeping at the moment.

She took a look at the clipboard left behind on the table where Monomon’s notes were scribbled. Electrical burns, blunt force trauma, eye damage, nerve damage...the list seemed to go uncomfortably long. She was glad she managed to get to her in time, but was disappointing that she and the other knights didn’t find out about the assassination plot sooner. Maybe they could have prevented a lot of suffering, but she couldn’t know for sure.

“Hello?” Poppy blinked awake, most likely from hearing Xena walk around. She was lying on her back and couldn’t twist her head to see who had entered the room. “Who’s there?” She asked, a tinge of worry to her voice.

“I am Xena, one of the Great Knights, I was there when you were rescued.” She pulled up a chair next to the cot and sat down. “Do you remember me?”

Poppy took a moment to breathe and then smiled the best she could through half a bandaged face. “I do.” She sounded coherent, but her speech was slurred and slow.

“You look much better,” Xena smiled in what she hoped was in a comforting way. “You must be on the good stuff, right?”

“Yeah.” Poppy didn’t bother trying to nod. “Nothin’ hurts. It’s great.”

“Well I won’t keep you long, I just need to ask a few questions and then you can go back to resting, okay?”

“Mmhmm.” The scorpion mumbled softly and did her best to focus her one working eye to the ant’s face. “I’ll try.”

“That’s all I’m asking for. Do you remember how you were abducted?” Xena had a quill and a tablet ready to take notes. “Take your time and try to remember what you can, okay?”

Poppy mulled over the question for a while, and started speaking. “I was at my flower shop in...in Deepnest. Some Hallownest bug came in...I asked if they wanted flowers...I grow flowers by the way and make them into arrangements. It’s nice.”

Xena nodded, knowing full well that she was on some of those good painkillers, and would probably will go off into tangents. “What kinda bug came in?”

“It was that um….beetle. Yes, that beetle. From...the place.” Poppy swallowed thickly, “Where they were...were...hurting me…”

“Don’t worry about him, he can’t hurt you anymore.” The ant put as much conviction as she could muster into her voice. “He won’t be hurting anyone else, after today.”

“Good,” She wheezed a little, catching her breath.

“What did the beetle want from you?” Xena pressed gently. “I think I could wager a guess but I need to hear it from you.”

“He uh...he asked to buy my venom...and I told him I sell flowers, not venom! It was weird...and creepy , and its against the law cause um...uh...it’s dangerous. You hafta have a license to get some and you get it from the...oh...what do you call it…” The scorpion hrmed to herself. “Oh I can’t remember, it’s the place where you can get dangerous stuff if you are a uh...professional? Scientist?”

“A supplier is what I think you mean. Where controlled substances can be given out dependent on research or medical use.”

“Yes! That! Well he got mad and started saying something about the fate of bug kind and how there was monsters in Hallownest? He said I should work with them to save everyone and I told him to leave cause I’m just a flower bug. And then something hit me on the back of my head.” She reached up with a free arm to touch the back of her bandaged head. It looked like a mess when she was first found and Xena was glad that Poppy couldn’t feel any pain right now.

“Then I woke up all tied up and the beetle was there with some other people. He said that I was going to help them get rid of the monsters and I told them I wouldn’t! Then they...they….” She sniffled, her eye tearing up.

“Then they hurt you and forcibly took your venom.” Xena knew when to stop asking questions. Poppy was starting to get a little upset, and she felt awful that she even had to bring up what happened to her so soon. But, she had to get this down for the record, and it was better to do it now while Poppy wasn’t in physical pain than wait and do it later.

Poppy nodded in response. “Mmhmm. I don’t know how long I was there.”

“That’s okay, Right now what I need from you is to rest and get better, okay? We’ll send word to your Queen and Princess and they’ll probably send someone over to help you home once you are well enough to travel.”

“Okay...thank you.” Poppy sighed. She wasn’t going to be able to stay awake anyway with the meds she was on and was quickly falling back into the realm of dreams. “There'll...be someone outside...right? Watching?”

“There are, I promise.” Xena nodded. “Nobody will let you get hurt again.”

“Mhmm...thanks…” Poppy fell asleep, a combination of reassurance and the ‘good stuff’. Xena took a bit of time to make sure she was comfortable, and then left the room. She glanced at the two guardsmen stationed outside.

“Nobody gets in that isn’t a Knight, the King, or Monomon, got it?”

They both saluted and stayed in place.

“Good...now excuse me, I have someone to see.”

She turned and headed towards the holding cells. The cells were kept underground, and as she descended the stairs she began to hear the annoying sound of metal scraping together. There was the sound of someone loudly complaining before descending into shrieks as the scraping got louder. She took a moment to rub her eyes and sighed, locking the gate behind her and stepping into the corridor.

Tiso was just sitting there, making god awful noises as he happily ran a fork over a metal plate. He was making sure to press extra hard, making terrible squeaking noises that made Xena’s antenna twitch under her helmet. The ex-noble within the cell was close to tears, looking around to Xena as soon as he saw her.

“Oh, oh bless you. Please! Please make him stop!” The jewel beetle was in the dirtiest cell they had, tear tracks marking his face and generally looking disheveled. He crawled to the bars on his knees, gripping the bars with shaky hands. “Please! It hurts!”

“I’m not even doing anything! I’m trying to serenade you with my beautiful music, you uncultured bastard.” Tiso scraped the fork loudly and it set the hairs on her carapace standing up and the beetle to cry out in pain. “It’s not my fault you can’t appreciate artistic talent. Frankly, I’m insulted.”

“That’s enough for now, Tiso.” Xena sighed and dug out her keys. “Monomon needs this guy and she’s going to be pissed if we’re late.”

“Oh?” He casually tossed the dishes to the side. “Going to be testing the antidote then?”

“Testing the what now?” The beetle looked around, confused.

“Most likely, yeah.” Xena ignored the beetle. “Now that she has a pure sample of the poison as well, she thinks she’ll know for sure if the antidote is legit or not after a couple hours.”

“Hours?” Said beetle was rapidly turning pale as he realized what was about to happen.

“Did I fucking stutter?” Xena snarled, opening the cell door. “Get your ass out here or else I’ll drag you out.”

“You can’t do that to me! I’m Lord Maximus Pennington Chrysoch the third!” They tried to dodge her hands, but she was too fast. She seized him by the wrists and began to bodily drag him out.

“I don’t give a fuck who you are! A traitor is a traitor to me.” She looked to Tiso. “Help me drag this sack of shit to Monomon and then you can take a break.”

“Hells yeah!” He jumped up, grabbing the free wrist of the condemned and hauled them to their feet. “Think I’ll have time to head to the museum to see Myla?” The beetle started wibbling and sobbing, but was completely ignored.

“Eh, take Cloth with you and you all can have an hour together. You’ll have to be back at a reasonable time though, we need all hands on deck with this situation.”

“Yeah I got ya. Thanks.” Tiso was noticeably happier, cheerfully dragging the sobbing beetle down the corridor and to their fate. He didn’t care what happened to them, all he could think about now was finally getting to smooch his girlfriends.

---

Monomon arrived outside the door to the royal suite, a capped syringe gripped gently but firmly in her tentacles. As soon as the antidote proved to actually work, and not just be another poison, she rushed as quickly as she could to the top floor. Hollow was standing guard outside of the room and nodded to her. Seeing that there wasn’t time for chit chat, she attempted to open the door.

To her surprise, it was blocked off. She looked at the knob, confused, and tried to push again. “What’s going on here?”

Hollow chirped to get her attention, and signed. <”Father is in there. I think he is sitting in front of the door.”>

“Mato? Of course he would.” She knocked on the door. “Mato! It’s Monomon!”

There was a shuffle from the other side, and the door was pulled open to indeed reveal the Nailmaster. He seemed rather rough looking, he must have booked it from the Howling Cliffs as fast as he could. “Monomon,” he nodded, and stood out of the way.

She floated inside to see what was going on, eyes immediately going to the nest that took up a good portion of the room.

Ghost was cuddled around Quirrel, doing their best to hold him in a way that would hopefully reassure him that someone was watching over him, but not tight enough to harm him. Quirrel was still unconscious, breathing heavily and shivering and once in a while his nerves would shudder, making him twitch and spasm. Ghost was already awake, no doubt hearing the door open. They looked at her, the dark fathomless eyes behind their mask tired and fearful. Their eyes darted from the door to the syringe held in her tentacle.

“Is that…” Their voice was so small and weak, but there was a bloom of hope behind it that Monomon could feel.

“Yes.” She drifted closer and uncapped the syringe. “We have it.”

They sat up quickly. “What do you want me to do?”

“Hold one of his arms still, I don’t want the needle to break if he has a spasm while injecting him.” She checked over the syringe, going over the calculations in her head one more time. She had already triple checked everything, but it wouldn't hurt to check it one more time. Ghost sat up, pulling Quirrel into their lap and used their lower set of arms to cradle him, and the top set to grasp an arm and hold it straight. Quirrel continued to shiver, making a raspy noise of discomfort from being moved.

“Good, like that.” With Ghost holding him, it was easy for her to find the joint in his elbow and sterilize it. Then, she injected the antidote slowly, watching the liquid within disperse into his hemo system.

“There…it should take effect soon.” She deposited the used needle in a box she carried to be sterilized later. “We may not notice a difference at first, but within half an hour he should be more comfortable.”

Ghost kept Quirrel in their embrace, resting their chin on his head and tucking him up close. “Thank you.” They said, moving slightly to adjust themselves. Monomon watched them tilt their head slightly, listening to his breathing as he continued to wheeze.

“How did you get that?” Mato had stayed back to let her do her thing, but now that there wasn’t any needles involved, he approached the nest again.

“A combination of work from the Great Knights, good old science, and some very helpful mandatory volunteers.”

“That’s fucking terrifying.” Mato took a step away from her.

“It’s what they deserved. They at least did something useful with their lives instead of just being executed.”

“How many prisoners are left?” Ghost’s mental voice was whisper quiet, as though they were scared that they were going to disturb Quirrel’s rest.

“I’m not sure. Tiso has the numbers. The ring leader is still alive, he was the lucky one who tested the antidote. What are you going to do about them?”

Ghost was silent for a moment, idly smoothing back Quirrel’s antenna as he lay in their embrace. “I think I will wait for Quirrel to weigh in on it all. He was...the most hurt.”

“He wasn’t the only one hurt,” Monomon drifted down to the floor to sit, curling her tentacles under herself. “There was another victim who is thankfully alive. You’ll have a report on that soon, but you may want to keep her in mind too, as well as yourself and my son.”

“It seems like the best thing to do is to let them stew in their own fear and guilt until you have a chance to deal with them.” Mato also sat, leaning against the wall. “They are not going to have any type of peace as long as they are down there with Tiso at the same time.”

Ghost actually chirped a laugh at that. “That is true.”

As they conversed, Ghost noticed Quirrel subtly shift a little over the course of twenty so odd minutes. His twitching was definitely dying down, leaving him still for the first time since he was poisoned. They could hear his breath change as well, the raspy wheeze was getting smoother and less labored. It would be a while before he was back to normal, but just being able to actually rest was something sorely needed for the pillbug.

“He’s doing better.” The vessel sagged in relief, tears once again welling up in their eyes. “He can breathe now.”

Monomon floated up from her position on the floor and placed a tentacle on the pillbug's forehead. She felt it for a moment before she spoke. “His fever has gone down.”

“He’ll be okay now, right? He’ll be okay?” Ghost shivered, black streaks dripping from their eyes as they pulled Quirrel closer to their chest.

“Yes Ghost, he’ll be okay.”

Ghost broke down into tears, a combination of relief, love, and the bitter fear of loss. Once they started they couldn’t stop, the emotional dam had broken. The sheer stress they had been bundling up for the past two days refused to be ignored any longer. Thick, choking sobs filled the room as they held their husband close. He’ll be okay, they won’t have to say goodbye so soon. They knew one day they would have to, but for now, he’ll be okay. He’ll live and they can continue to share the love that never ran out in their heart. He’ll be okay.

Mato and Monomon both embraced them, and for once, they let their family help them carry the huge amount of stress and emotions swirling around in their void. They kept repeating that simple phrase to themselves, over an over, to keep them grounded in the here and now.

He’ll be okay.

---

Myla hummed to herself as she looked over a crystal in her claws. She turned it around in the light, squinting through a monocular as she studied it’s structure. It was a beautiful fluorite specimen, still rough and unpolished. Broad bands of green, purple, and blues swirled around the stone in a rainbow of colors. She just needed to do a little cleanup on it and then it would be ready for display.

She looked at the basket of rocks on the floor next to her work station, all of them mined and found by her. She was pretty proud that she didn’t lose her knack for finding the beautiful and unusual. The infection left her unable to mine professionally anymore, but she had enough energy to go on little expeditions, following her heart as she explored the corners of the kingdom.

Of course, she didn’t go alone. Either Tiso or Cloth would come with her, keeping her protected as she jumped into holes to hack away at the rocks. She wasn’t very strong, but she can still knee cap people who threaten her, and she keeps her pickaxe nice and sharp. It was fun! Especially when she could spend the time with her partners.

She sighed, she hadn’t seen Tiso and Cloth for several days now. She knew what happened, the whole kingdom knew by now. She knew they had important work to do, but she still missed them.

As if the universe was listening to her thoughts, there was a knock on her office door. She glanced at her clock, it was about time for lunch. Maybe it was a coworker asking if she’d like something?

“Come in!” She called.

The door opened, and to her delight, her two knights tried to squeeze their way inside at the same time. Tiso gasped, smushed up against the door frame as Cloth tried to force her massive bulk through, getting equally wedged in.

“Cloth! Back up!” Tiso kicked his legs that were a good foot of the ground. The force of the attempt to beat Cloth inside had angled his body upwards to get stuck on the frame, one arm free and trying to pull himself free.

“No! You back up!” She retorted, trying to squeeze her shoulders in. “I want to kiss her first!”

“Like hell you -wheeze-” Tiso started going a little blue, a stark contrast to his black shell as he got squashed harder.

Myla never in her whole life, expected that she’d ever be a girl that someone would fight over, let alone two. She knew they were just playing around and joking with their fake little rivalry thing, it was endearing, but sometimes Cloth forgot her own strength. She remembered once when Cloth gave Tiso a ‘gentle’ punch to the arm and accidentally sent him through the window.

“How about both of you back out, and I’ll come to you?”

Cloth and Tiso looked at each other. Cloth nodded and with some effort, pulled herself back and out of the door-frame. Tiso, no longer supported, just fell on the ground and wheezed for breath. Cloth helpfully picked him up and set him on his feet again and dusted off his armor.

Myla giggled, bouncing forward to leap at the two of them and was caught into a three way hug. It was a happy moment of hugs and little smooches that was sorely needed after days of being apart. “I’m so glad you two are here!”

“Unfortunately, we only got a short amount of time, then we have to go back.” Cloth replied, sounding very apologetic.

“Yeah...we still got idiots to process.” Tiso took the time to give them both a nuzzle. “Duty calls and all that.”

“That’s okay, I’m just glad you’re here for now!” Myla wriggled to escape the hug, and promptly headed back inside the office. “I processed some new minerals if you’d like to take a look!”

“Of course we would!” Tiso booked it to the door.. and ended up getting wedged in again when Cloth tried to get in at the same time. This time it was worse, because Cloth didn’t put her club down first, and Myla could hear the wood creaking under the strain of it all. She rubbed the back of her head as she watched them both struggle.

She wondered if she should just have a second door put in.

---

It felt like ages since Grimm started talking, telling Quirrel of fantastical worlds both old and new. It was fascinating, hearing of so many places that were different and unique. For the most part Quirrel listened, asking a question here and there. It seemed like the Nightmare King had visited the places Quirrel had during his wanderings on the surface world, and offered some interesting insight to things he may have missed.

“It seems our time is nearly up.” Grimm folded his claws together under his chin, looking at the pill bug who sat in front of him. He had just finished telling Quirrel about a colorful world with a legend of an eternal sprout that was constantly being searched for. “You will need to wake up soon.”

“Really?” Quirrel leaned back in his chair and poked himself a couple times. “If I’m well enough now to wake up, how come I don’t feel any different?”

“It’s because your mind is protecting itself. You won’t feel pain while in a dream. I can however, change that aspect if it is a nightmare, but I have no reason to do so here.” Grimm gave him a sinister grin, exposing many needle sharp teeth, but Quirrel wasn’t afraid.

“Thanks.” Quirrel sighed, and put down his cup. As soon as it hit the table, it began to dissolve into essence, floating away in motes of white and red. In fact, it seemed like everything that wasn’t Grimm or himself was beginning to look blurry and grainy.

“I am not going to lie. You will most likely be in for a lot of pain once you awaken, but you must wake up.” Grimm looked to the side and off to the distance, watching the walls of the cozy room fade into white. “But you will live.”

“Will we ever get to chat again sometime? Despite the circumstances, I quite enjoyed our conversation. It would be nice to revisit it sometime.”

Grimm smiled softly, hiding his wicked looking teeth once again. “Of course we will.”

“Great!” Quirrel watched the last motes of color leave the dream, leaving nothing but a white, featureless void. Somehow they were still sitting, despite the lack of anything coherent around them. “Hrm...how do I wake up then?”

“Oh, that’s easy.” Grimm laughed, his voice distorting and echoing, as though retreating backwards. “You /[Quirrel]/ just need to /open[ed]/ your /[his] eyes./”

.

.

.

Suddenly, he was awake.... and he hated it.

Quirrel’s first thought was a mess of confusion. He had managed to open his eyes, a jarring jump from the dream world to reality. It was easy, but hard at the same time.

What Quirrel managed to see through his stinging eyes was nothing but a blurry mess of darkness and shapes. As soon as his brain caught up with the rest of his body, a deep sharp ache radiated from within his core, spreading all the way to the tips of his limbs. It felt like he tried to cuddle an ooma and paid the price for it. He had no idea how, but even his mandibles hurt. At least Grimm warned him, but it still sucked.

He could tell he was lying on something soft and warm at least. Wriggling his antenna (with a wince, cause how the fuck is his antenna sore too!?!) slightly gave him the usual smells of his home in the palace. His mind was still a little foggy, so when he detected three other people around him, he wasn’t quite sure who they were at first. It was silent, so he couldn’t identify anyone by voices. He was exhausted. Everything hurt. Breathing hurt. Having his eyes open hurt. It sucked and he resolved to complain about it soon enough. He had no clue what happened other than 1. he got poisoned and 2. he got sick from it.

What he needed right now, was his spouse. They probably knew what the hell happened and could fill him in on what he missed. He didn’t even know how long he was out for. It didn’t seem so long while he conversed with Grimm, but he suspected that time doesn’t really hold all that much meaning in a dream. He moved, at least, he tried to, gasping in pain as his hand squeezed something hard and slender. He nearly jumped out of his chitin when something squeezed back. A shape moved in front of his vision, a blurry mess of white that seemed to shine in the darkness.

“Quirrel?” The voice was tinged with the feeling of hope as it whispered through his head. He knew that voice, and he relaxed.

“Hello, love,” he wheezed. His throat was dry and scratchy and he coughed on his words. He closed his eyes for a moment as the blur moved and tripped his sense of vertigo. He heard a chirp in response before he was being hauled upright and held with four arms. The sudden movement flipped his stomach around and he groaned in response. “Ugh…”

“I’msorryi’msorryi’msorry.” He was being peppered with kisses all over his face as a soft whining noise emitted from a throat that was voiceless. He managed to lift up a shaking hand to rest it on the side of Ghost’s face, happy he didn’t accidentally poke them in the eyes since he couldn't see. He rubbed them as well as he could, struggling with the effort of keeping his arm up.

“It’s alright... dear…” It was difficult to talk, he had to stop and take a breath between each word. As much as he loved kisses, it was starting to overwhelm him, so he tried to soothe his spouse. “I’m fine.”

“You are not fine. I...I…” There was another wheezing sob and he was thankfully nuzzled instead of kissed. “You could have died.”

“Heh...heh...like you could...get rid of me...that easy.” He dropped his arm, no longer able to keep it up. His hand was captured in one of Ghost’s, and they rubbed it gently. “I plan to...be around...for much longer…You couldn’t...keep me away...if you tried…” He was losing his voice and he swallowed with a wince. He opened his eyes again, it was still blurry, but he could see clearer shapes. A blob of green and a blob of red was approaching, mixing together as he struggled to focus.

“Here you are, my dear.” A glass of water was placed in his free hand and encircled with a tentacle. “Sip slowly.”

“Hi mom…” He knew what his mom felt like, how she always had this sort of static energy around her, like you could get a good zap if you pissed her off. The same tentacle that used to rock him to sleep at night when he was a pip helped him drink and he gratefully swallowed down the water. It was absolute bliss. He may be king, but all the finery in the world couldn’t compare to that nice cold glass of water.

“You gave us a hell of a scare, how are you feeling?” Oh, that must have been Mato. It made sense that he would be here. The blurs of red mixed with gray and was certainly big enough to be the Nailmaster. They moved to stand closer to Ghost...at least he thinks they did. It was hard to tell for the moment.

“Hurts.” Quirrel could have lied but his mother was right there and she would have no trouble putting him in the corner for it. “All over. Hard to see.”

“I figured as much,” Monomon was still holding the glass of water for him, and another tentacle bumped against his mandibles. “Open up, I have something for the pain.”

He did just that, letting the pills go down with another few swallows of water. He imagined that he should feel hungry or something too, but he just didn’t feel like it. She must have sensed the question because she continued talking.

"Let’s wait for half an hour and see if you can handle some soup, okay?”

Quirrel nodded with a sigh. He was awake but tired again, it was rather frustrating. He closed his eyes again, letting them rest as he just laid there and breathed. He could feel the medicine begin to work, a numb tingling working down his limbs and into his core. Soon, every movement didn’t result in pain, and he managed to sit up a little. Ghost helped, sitting so that his back could rest against this chest and belly.

“What happened?” It seemed like a sensible question to ask. He was not surprised that Ghost was the one to answer.

“There was an assassination attempt and you were poisoned by the nail that cut you. The Great Knights led an investigation and arrested the ringleader and several members of the group. They are still investigating, but they are confident they caught most to all of them. You were unconscious for almost three days.”

“Three days?!” Quirrel raised his voice at that. Three whole days? As in seventy two hours?

“Yes, three days.” Monomon piped up. “If it makes you feel any better, half the kingdom has been keeping vigil outside, hoping that you would get better.”

Quirrel blinked in surprise. “Really?”

“She isn’t lying.” Mato was the next to say something, his voice moving around the room. “I nearly had to fight my way inside, there were so many people out there.”

Quirrel...didn’t know how to feel about that. On one hand, he didn’t feel like he was a person who would warrant a three day vigil, and on the other, he was touched and humbled. He had always been a bug who was fairly social and had a lot of friends, but to have that many bugs sitting around and waiting for news about him...it was astonishing. It must mean that he is doing something right.

“You two need rest,” Mato continued. “Ghost? There’s a pot of soup in the icebox, just warm it up. I’ll go out and tell the masses that things are okay so they can go home.”

“That is a good idea.” Ghost leaned their head down to nuzzle Quirrel some more. “Thank you.”

“And you, my little scholar, are going to stay in bed.” Monomon added. “Strict bed rest until further notice, got it? I will know if you get out of bed, trust me.”

“Yes mom.” Quirrel believed her.

Soon, both parents departed, and once again the room was quiet, save for a soft rumbling. Quirrel realized that Ghost was purring as they cuddled against them. “Stay with me...for a little?” He asked. Now that their parents were gone, it felt strange, like he was a small thing in a sea of uncertainty. Most likely, it’s trauma from the experience, but he didn’t think he could stand being alone for very long now. Now that he was awake, he wanted to stay awake, but he doubts that his body will let him for long.

“I would never leave you,” came the reply. “Everything is on hold for now and will be for a little while.”

“You can’t just... shut down the government...love.” Quirrel chuckled. “Even though...I think most would...enjoy the vacation.”

“I am a king, I can do what I want. And if I want everyone to fuck off so I can care for my beloved husband who survived an attack on his life, I will make it so.” There was a hint of amusement in their voice as they gave him a nuzzle.

“What about...the assassins?” He would not be surprised if they were all dead by now, but he still wanted to know.

“The knights have them. We can talk about it later. I would rather kiss you and talk about how much I love you, if that’s okay.”

Quirrel managed a laugh as he relaxed against his spouse, feeling happy and full of love. “You know what? I would...like that very much.”

[mangofetts]

paz vizsla; nsfw alphabet

NSFW UNDER THE CUT

paz vizsla x reader

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

paz is very caring, especially after he’s been rough with you. aftercare will usually consist of cleaning you up, eating/drinking, and back rubs/shoulder rubs

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

he loves his partner’s thighs and neck. he likes to hold your thighs and eat you out and loves marking you up on your thighs and neck. he likes your neck because when you show it to him it makes him think you trust being vulnerable around him.

his favorite body part on himself would be his arms and hands. he likes his hands because they absolutely dwarf yours and he likes seeing his hands on you. he likes his arms because they’re so capable and he’s able to hold you down and make you take it.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

this man LOVES to paint your insides white. if he’s in you without a condom?? absolutely goes fucking crazy. it makes him stupid when you let him cum inside of you. this comes from his desire to have kids.

if you don’t let him cum in you, that’s alright! his second favorite is marking you up on your thighs or chest. you cleaning yourself up and eating his cum makes him go stupid too!!

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

when he cums in you, he wants to keep his cock in you so his seed doesn’t leak out. he actually has a plug that he never used on you because he’s too shy to bring it up.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

some experience! when he was younger he used to fool around and he never got any complaints about his performance. if he does come across something he doesn’t know, he knows to ask you about it. he does learn and adapt fast too, so even if it’s a new thing, he gets the hang of it pretty quickly.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

he loves doggystyle, but he has to try extra hard not to blow his load immediately after you get on your hands and knees. something about you in that position makes his lizard brain go ‘breedbreedbreed’ and he has to hold himself back before he breaks you. other than that, he likes to lay you both down on your sides (him as big spoon of course) and he enters you from behind. easy access to your chest, neck, and thighs.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

aside from teasing you, he takes your pleasure pretty seriously. he makes jokes, but it’s the humiliation part of it that makes him say it. stuff like, “you get a cock in you and you forget how to speak? huh?” and “so cock drunk you can’t even think.” your reactions let him know that he’s doing a good thing for you.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

he has a trail but tends to trim and shave because it’s more comfortable for him. he doesn’t like the chafing down there and no one wants to get their pubes stuck in their fly.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

VERY VERY INTIMATE. he wants you to remember each and every time he’s taken you. if it’s one of your birthdays or your anniversary, he will go all out with candles and rose petals and shit. all that romantic stuff. he lives for it.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

hoo boy. this man jacks off so much you’d think he has an addiction. if he’s gone, he’ll squeeze one out after a hunt because he gets horny chasing after people because it reminds him of when you run from him. if you are there, he’ll jack off in secret. there’s something dirty about him jacking off and trying not to get caught by you. he will admit that he’s bad at hiding it because he’s too loud.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

OH BOY. daddy kink, predator/prey, authority kink, breeding kink, weapon kink, bondage, LIGHT bdsm, dom/sub. sometimes he’s in the mood for kitten play so you guys keep cat ears in the drawer. his daddy kink comes from him wanting to be a dad, breeding kink for the same reason. he also likes giving orders and you calling him sir. he likes threatening you with weapons (knives, guns, etc.) BUT ONLY IF YOU’RE UP FOR IT. tying you up is a yes. something about seeing you vulnerable and unable to move is really hot to him. some bdsm elements and dom/sub elements.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

alleyways, bathrooms, the bedroom. whenever y’all get horny, y’all can basically do it anywhere. leave it to paz to get you in the weirdest places.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

your moans and pleas for more keeps him going. other than that, when you touch him, it makes him want to return the favor so he’ll want to touch you even more. when you’re desperate and when you beg him to take you by touching him all over and trying to jack him off? that’s what motivates him the most.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

hurting you in any way. if you asked for it, he would probably try it with you, but without your explicit consent, he wouldn’t do anything. that includes cutting you with a knife, shooting you, anything that involves blood. now, he will choke you, but he knows your limits. safe words are implemented and if you can’t speak you guys have a visual cue. you are in safe hands with paz.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

paz prefers giving but isn’t opposed to receiving. this man has a sharp tongue, and he sure does know how to use it when you’re eating you out. he likes to circle your most sensitive parts and when you get close and gush with cum? he slurps that up like a starved man. he also likes holding your thighs up and back so you don’t accidentally squeeze them shut.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

both!! depends on the night you two are going for. he’ll be fast and rough when you two need it, usually this is after he’s done with a hunt or when he just needs you so bad he can’t control himself. on more romantic nights, he’ll go slow and sensual, hitting all those spots inside you and making you see stars.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

paz doesn’t generally like quickies because he wants to prolong your pleasure and make you feel good for a long time before you guys are finished. he’s more of a marathon fucker. regardless, you two will have quickies when you need them. like when he’s on business but wound up tight so he takes you into the alleyway for a quick fuck.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

he will experiment with you!! consent is the key to him so if there’s consent from both parties, he’s down for basically anything. risky things like guns and knives aren’t usually his thing, but if you like them, he’s down to try them out with you. not generally a risky person, he likes to play it safe. you know to go to him and talk about it if you need something more to keep you going.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

like i said earlier, this man is a marathon fucker. get him in bed and prepare not to leave that room for hours. his heavy armor has conditioned him so he can go for rounds at a time. being a bounty hunter is also a strenuous job, so all of that combined has really conditioned him to have good stamina.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

has one (1) fleshlight that he uses sometimes, but he likes to use his hands because his callouses feel good. other than that, he generally has no use for other sex toys. he is totally down to experiment with some!

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

he knows what you want, and he knows what he wants. it’s how patient he’s feeling that day that causes him to tease or not. if it’s a rough and fast day, he’ll prep you but there’s no other foreplay aside from biting. if it’s a slow and sensual day, he’ll prep you, eat you out, tease your nipples, kiss you until you whine. it’s a feely thing for him.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

he’s very vocal. his grunts and groans are loud and heard throughout the room. it’s usually groans, but sometimes you’ll hear a growl if he’s particularly wound up. aside from noises, he talks dirty in your ear when he fucks you. things like, “you take my cock so well, pretty thing.” and “aren’t you just so needy?” teasing is huge.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

one thing that turns him on is when you pretend to struggle to take him. small things like clenching your eyes shut, whimpering, and grabbing at him. when you say things like, “you’re too big for me!” and “please! give me a break!” it makes him want to drill into your until you’re limp and boneless. it also makes him almost nut so use this tactic sparingly (or not ;))

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

tiddies. can i say that? his chest is huge, as is the rest of him.

anyways, he’s 8 1/2 inches long with a 4 1/2 inch girth. he’s very big 😌.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

since he masturbates so much, he definitely does yearn for you a lot. people think he’s addicted to you lmfao. you guys probably have sex once or twice every three days with him masturbating in between. it gets really bad when he’s away for more than a day.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

he doesn’t fall asleep until you do. he wants to make sure that you’re okay before he lets himself sleep. it’s endearing, really. if it’s a marathon fuck, he’ll pass out after aftercare.

I REALLY ENJOYED DOING THIS LMK IF U LIKED IT OR NOT. dm me if you want to be in my taglist!! <3

@maybege​

[pepperf]

Jaysus, I kind of want to ask all of them, but I'll try and restrain myself. Lets go with 2, 5, 6, 11, 16. If five questions is just rude, then, idk, pick three of those XD

2. Will you participate in any fandom exchanges or fic challenges, etc?

I was thinking about it recently, actually! I was going through my Whumptober fics and thinking how much I enjoyed that, and how it's kind of great working to a challenge, because I end up writing stuff I otherwise wouldn't, and it just makes me get on with it. So, yeah, probably. :D Unless my fic writing crashes and burns, it could happen. All the good fic challenges seem to be in October, though, which is super unhelpful. But maybe by then I'll have finished all the things currently on my to-do list.

6. Which yet-to-be-started fic is first on your list?

I'll say barely-started rather than yet-to-be-started, because I had to jot down some lines so they didn't disappear, but it's a 'six years later' sequel to the boxing AU I just posted (fight like a title holder, stand like a champion). I wanna write what happens to them down the line, if they met that young. Do they turn up to his dad's funeral with like a couple of kids in tow? Did they break up tragically and are convinced that They Will Never Love Again? Who knows… (me, I know).

11. Would you like to try any new fanfic genres or tropes this year?

Ooh. Yes, but it's hard, because I went full-tilt on trying to tick off a load of tropes from, like, my Stargate days, so a lot of them I've already done. I should check my list, see what I've still not ticked off. As for genres…I guess I mostly stick to a combination of romantic comedy drama and scifi, I don't know what other genres I could do… detective fiction? Noir? I think I tried writing noir once, it was great fun but exhausting. Fuck, what other genres are there? I'm bad at genres, my brain doesn't categorise things that way.

16: answered here!

5. Which WIP is first on your list to complete this year? Will you post a snippet?

I put this one out of order so I could put the response behind a readmore. Shelter From The Storm! And, hah, you don't need a snippet, do you??? Okay, two options: one snippet that you've not read, or one snippet that other people haven't read…I'm going to be mean and post the one for other people. ;)

---

Diego spins around, and then heads for the steps, taking them two at a time. He knocks hard, twitching on his feet, aware of his brothers watching. Knocks again.

"—right, keep your hair on," says Lila, as she opens the door. She stops, staring at him, her eyes widening.

And then she slams the door in his face.

He stares blankly at the door for a second, his mind running a mile a minute, and then knocks again, frantically. "Lila! Lila, please open the door! Don't run!"

"Huh," says Luther, behind him. "Is it just me, or was she holding a baby?"

"Not just you," says Five.

"Lila, please!"

"Do you think she stole it from somewhere? Like the Handler did with her, I mean."

"No, Luther," says Five, patiently. "I don't think she stole it."

Diego bangs on the door with his fist.

"…Ohhhh," says Luther. "Oh, shit, time travel, right."

"Fuck this," says Five, and there's the noise of him disappearing.

Diego stops at that, and waits breathlessly, staring at the door. He senses Luther shifting behind him, wills him not to speak, not to ask, not to say a single word—

"Do you think it's—"

"Shut up, Luther!"

"I wasn't going to say anything," says Luther, sounding a little aggrieved. "I just wondered if it was a boy or a girl, that's all."

Diego presses his palms and his forehead against the door, and breathes out slowly.

[jamesnorrington]

Rules: Answer the questions and then tag 10+ other creators to answer the questions! I was tagged by the amazing @oswiins​! Thank you, Neve, and Happy New Year! <3

First creation and most recent creation of 2020: I deleted all my old blogs and restarted everything this year. These Kiki’s Delivery Service GIF headers were some of the first things I made. And my most recent one is this Pride and Prejudice set.

One of your favorite creations from 2020: This Hoist the Colours lyrics set. Frankly, I wasn’t sure the color scheme or the concept of GIFs inside letters would work, but I really like how it turned out.

A creation you’re really proud of: This Black Pearl set. It’s part of an ongoing series about ships in POTC but the Pearl is special so I wanted to make it really special.

A new style you tried this year and a GIF set that uses it: I tried as many things as I could this year (and thank you so much to all the creators who made tutorials! I owe you so much!), but the overlay transition style is something that’s become a big part of my recent stuff. This Team Cap set was one of the first things I used it on.

Your favorite coloring: Norrington’s death scene. I actually made this set out of spite (LMAO) because I couldn’t stand the scene’s original coloring, which was a combination of sickly shades of yellow and cyan. I wanted to do better than that. I think I did?

A creation that took you forever: Norrington as Odysseus. This took me so long because it has some sensitive imagery and I basically let the set stew a bit after finishing each individual GIF to give myself time to think “Is this actually a good idea?”

Your creation from 2020 that received the most notes: This Pintel and Ragetti set, and I’m so glad that even in 2020 a lot of people still love them!

A creation you think deserved more notes: The ASOIAF book fandom is pretty small, so I think it did well all things considered. But this manip of Ben Barnes as Theon Greyjoy. (Alfie was amazing in the role, yes! But Ben fits the book description, so I wanted to make a fancast set.)

A creation with a favorite scene/quote: I really love the lighting of the beacons and the lines “Gondor calls for aid” / “And Rohan will answer,” so this LOTR set.

A new fandom you joined and a creation you made for it: I’d been watching Studio Ghibli films since I was a kid, but I only really joined the fandom this year. I made a set for Ocean Waves, one of their lesser known films and which I’d only watched this year!

A creation you made that breaks your heart: Norrington / Davy Jones parallels. It fits, ya know? And it hurts. And if my heart breaks, I’m breaking my followers’ hearts along with it because pain should be shared. LOL

A “simple” creation that you really love: This La Haine set. I learned a lot about color grading B&W while working on this one.

A creation that was inspired by another one (add both your creation and the one that inspired it!): So much of what I make was inspired by other people’s awesome work! But I learned a ton from Sarah’s poster tutorial (she mentioned techniques in there that I keep in mind for everything I do now, like sharpening methods, etc.), so this Curse of the Black Pearl poster edit. And it was inspired by everything under this tag!

A favorite creation created by someone else: This is literally the hardest to answer. There are so many amazing creations that came out this year alone. The size limit increased to 10MB, which meant everyone was free to experiment with huge GIF sizes, loads and loads of colors, and techniques using multiple GIFs combined into one. I’m sorry I can’t mention every single one I’ve adored, but here are some of my absolute faves. This Witcher set by @yenvengerberg (what even is this TALENT? This set is pure genius). This Wondertrev set by @timothyolyphant (everything is PERFECT: the coloring, the color scheme, the frames, the fonts!). This Old Guard set and this Sam Wilson set by @momentofmemory (I am not exaggerating when I say that these are some of my fave GIF sets of all time). And of course by the insanely talented person who tagged me @oswiins and whose sets make me make pterodactyl noises: this Doctor Who poster (I stared at it for an overly long time, such BEAUTY!) and this Julie and the Phantoms set (so many layers to it! This isn’t something you just look at, it’s something you stare at and study and think “Holy shit, these people are doing all this immense work for free and I am so lucky to be able to see it”).

Some of your favorite content creators from the year: Again, there are too many to mention! But I met so many talented people via the Creatorhub server and I am always thrilled to see their work on my dash: @harknessjack @magnusedom @eleanorguthrie @sonsofeorl @tennant @sonyarebecchi @amarakaran @pedros-pascal @juliesmolina @amirwilson @ansonmount @rhodee @erinsdoherty @antoniosbanderas @feativen.

And for good measure, another couple more creations of yours that you love: This Bande de filles set because I love this movie. This Three Caps set. This postcard. And this wanted poster. The last three because they were so much fun to make!

Pretty sure everyone has done this already by now, but if you haven’t, please do it if you like! So glad I met you all, and I wish every one of us a much better 2021. <3 Thank you again, Neve!!

[maggyoutthere]

I can't believe I actually fINISHED THIS HOLY SHIT-

The chapters are more than 4000 words long combined. I literally never wrote something this big damn. As much as this is supposed to be satire of bad creepypastas, this little shit found its way into my heart. I'll treasure it as probably the best thing I've written, like, ever XD

‼Tws for blood and body horror

First part here

Second part here

Sonic: Battle of Metal and Blood (Part 3 - Finale)

Synopsis: Local teen faces off against whatever is haunting this game and dies(?)

The game took a while to load again.

I was already making backup plans in my head in the case this didn't work. I could always ask people online if anyone had ever known about this game, even get my brother to help me record some clips of it to post on forums and sites. If that didn't work, maybe try and dump the file on my PC? That could be dangerous; if it was making the console crash and restart, I didn't want to know what it could do to my computer.

I was thrown in the same level. Well that was weird. It was the exact same jungle, or at least it looked like it at first. I could tell it was now supposed to be night time since everything had almost a dark blue filter over it, even Tails, who I was playing as this time. The night filter made the level a bit harder since I couldn't see some things properly, but it was still playable. It looked just like any Sonic game from that time, but I knew something was definitely up with it. I just flew over some badniks and made my way across the level (I missed smashing stuff with Amy's hammer so I just tried to escape that level as quickly as possible)

I entered the same clearing, fearing what would happen to Tails this time. Guy was 8, and I doubted SEGA would let their employees just kill off a kid on screen; but again, as far as I knew this game wasn't even supposed to be here. It could've been some unhappy worker or employee gone rogue making a statement. It wasn't helping to be honest. As I followed the exact same route as Amy, I found Metal Sonic again, still stepping on... something. It was too dark to see what it was. It just made squishy and disgusting noises as he pressed his foot on top of it. For an old game, the audio design was pretty unsettling and well done.

I didn't want to get closer to the guy, so I tried flying over him and getting to a checkpoint or something, anything besides confronting that thing. As soon as I made Tails take off from the ground, Metal came flying at him. I almost shrieked as I tried getting the little guy away from that thing, immediately making him land and sprint out of there as fast as possible. In all that panic, I didn't even notice when he tripped over whatever Metal was stepping on and fell on his face. No matter how many buttons I pressed or how hard I pressed them, Tails wouldn't get up. Metal catched up with him and the screen went black as soon as the two collided.

Those same red eyes were back on screen, staring straight back at me. I was with my face glued to the television from all the anxiety that little chase scene gave me, so I jumped back when the thing looked back at me. It felt like it was looking directly at me.

"I want ears like yours"

There it was again

"I want arms like yours"

"I want a mind to think and a heart to feel like yours"

I wanted to punch the screen; I had no idea what was going on. This was starting to get unsettling. Then, I was back in the main menu, the game's menu. It didn't crash this time, at least that. Tails was gone, like Amy. Now, Sonic was there, facing his metal faker. The two looked like they were about to punch each other in an epic pose. Visually it looked great, but then it hit me. "Battle of Metal and Blood"; did it mean faker versus organic? So the two were going to fight again? Maybe we could still get a happy ending of some sorts.

I didn't even flinch. I pressed continue.

The jungle was gone. I was in some facility  now, playing as the blue hedgehog himself this time. The level layout was much different this time; there were more loops, enemies, spikes and so on. Maybe it was only because I was playing as Sonic this time, so I could just speed my way through the level without having to worry about smashing enemies or flying away from them. I got through the level and ended up reaching an empty room; Metal Sonic was there.

I had never been much of a player myself; I'd rather stand by the sidelines and watch as more experienced people got through all the hard levels. Sure I played a lot when I was a kid but I hadn't carried that with me to adolescence. Now I had to do it myself. Hours of playing Sonic CD as a 12 year old, don't fail me now.

The boss fight music kicked in and a large door slammed shut, covering the way out. It was actually kinda hard landing a hit on the guy; I was supposed to dodge his attacks until he got tired and stopped, then parry on certain parts of the walls and spin dash at Metal Sonic as many times as I could while he was down. The thing was: I was awful at parrying. I sucked at anything that involved aiming, but I was somehow able to pull it off well enough to send the guy to his knees after around 20 minutes of dodging and parrying things.

When I hit him for the last time, it looked like I'd split his face in half or something. There were some pieces of Metal Sonic's shiny blue cover scattered around the arena. He just stood still for a while covering his face. Did I do it? Was he deactivating or something? My fingers were getting sore from holding the control and mashing buttons so hard. He wouldn't move on his own, so I just made Sonic approach him to maybe give the final blown.

As I got closer to him, Metal immediately lashed at Sonic again, trying to hold him down. You could see his face a bit better and… it was kinda red. What was that? Was he changing to another phase or something? The screen went black again.

Staring back at me were no longer those two red beacons; there was only one this time, as Metal Sonic did have half of his face completely torn apart. The uncovered half of his face was a bloodied, pulsating mess of flesh and wires. Coils, staples and stitches kept the mass of muscle and whatever else he had inside of him crudely stuck together. Two different colored eyes were shoved in one eye socket as the whole thing now oozed with blood and oil.

"I need quills like yours"

"I need a body like yours"

Was that… what Amy and Tails…

"I need an organic body like yours

to become the Real Sonic"

What… the fuck… I was too shocked to even move as it cut back to the game. Metal Sonic had successfully tackled Sonic to the ground and had started clawing at his face as if trying to rip it out of his "loathsome copy". As I saw a pool of blood appearing under them, I told myself that was enough and got up to pull the cartridge right out of the console. This was just sickening. As I got closer to the console to pull the memory card out, I realised something that made me start worrying about this in a different way. As I got a good look at my Playstation 2, I realized it wasn't plugged in. It wasn't receiving any power at all. It was only connected to the TV.

How had it been working then?...

I slowly backed away from the console, and when I looked back at the screen, that darned thing was looking back at me. It was looking at me as I was trying to stop it, peeking at the side of the screen as I went to turn off my Playstation. That thing knew I was there. No no no, this couldn't be happening. I started shaking as I realized there was something looking back at me though the screen. Its red eyes pierced into my soul, and I didn't know how to stop it.

"I WANT A SOUL… LIKE YOURS"

I shrieked as I finally pulled the cartridge out of the console, throwing it against the wall to my side in pure fear. The screen immediately went to static and the Playstation opened by itself, the Sonic Gems Collection DVD taunting me. That was NOT just a game. Whatever it was, whoever it was, I was terrified to even pick up the memory card. I put the DVD back in its box and turned off the console. I tried taking deep breaths and getting some sleep; it was late, I'd drank a lot of coffee. Maybe all the coffee I was having had created this fever dream. I begged for that to be the situation. Still, I got no sleep that night. My eyes were focused on the TV right in front of my bed, its bright red ON/OFF button giving me panic attacks each time I thought I saw it moving. If I didn't know better, I'd have believed the thing had been watching me all night.

Would it come for me next?

I ended up passing out around 5AM; I was constantly checking my phone to see the time and messaging my friends. I tried explaining the situation to them but they thought I was either messing with them or that I had somehow dreamed the whole situation. I was dead-sure I hadn’t though. I woke up around 2PM and, according to my brother, I looked like shit. Not even he would believe me when I told him what had happened last night; I couldn’t have dreamed the whole thing up even if I wanted to. There had to be something to prove it was all real… the memory card. If I played the game in front of him, he’d have to believe me. After getting breakfast, I pulled my bro back to my room to show him the game. I hesitantly went to pick up the memory card I had thrown against the wall yesterday, but it was no longer there.

“What are you looking for?”

“The memory card; it was right here! Help me look for it!”

“You mean this one?” he pointed at the Playstation.

The fucking cartridge had plugged itself back on the console. What was that thing, and how was it doing that?! The TV screen lit up with static as me and my bro jumped back; we looked at each other in panic and confusion as no one had even touched the TV. We could feel the electricity flowing through the air, giving us chills and making our hair stand up. My brother grabbed my hand as we saw the darned thing appear in front of the static, its shiny metallic cover still split in half. I froze in fear with my little brother to protect right there; I should’ve done more, I should’ve gotten rid of that cursed thing as soon as I unplugged it from the console last night. That thing placed its hands against his side of the screen, its fingers twitching as the blood made the metal hinges rust and creak. The edges of the screen leaked with blood as if he was trying to break this barrier that separated him from us. It looked at us the same way it looked at me; ready to take what he believed was his.

“I… WANT… SOULS LIKE YOURS… AND I WILL HAVE THEM…"

[spectraspecs-writes]

Black Mirror: tumblr in the world of Nosedive

Yeah, here I go again with my thoughts on a Black Mirror episode. This morning’s TV fare was the episode “Nosedive.” To those who haven’t seen the episode, the premise is social media. Each person has the same type of phone coupled with ocular implants that allow you to identify a person on site, connect with their social media, and rank them, one star to five stars. Based on your ranking, you are either denied services or jobs, or get extra benefits. We follow Lacie Pound, a 4.2 desperate to get higher, to be a prime influencer. This gets her more money, a better apartment, better job, all that stuff. The plot follows her as she sinks lower into infamy. Not like villain stuff, but pretty much everyone hates her by the end and she revels in it, being free of the quest for a higher ranking because she’ll never get it.

What I was thinking about earlier is the fact that everyone uses the same nondescript social media. It looked to be picture-oriented like Instagram, and certain pictures for higher rankings than others. And since you could be ranked by your real-world actions, your public life was basically your Instagram life. I personally don’t have an Instagram, so I don’t know much about it.

Point being, though, that was the only social media in the episode. I doubt that it was the only social media in the world. Meaning, if your life is so public that strangers can affect your social standing, I think a lot of people would crave some anonymity. Which is where tumblr would come in.

Tumblr is the antithesis of “Nosedive.” Because each blog is not directly connected to the person. Take my brother’s blog. My brother is just on here to follow some artists. He doesn’t reblog hardly anything. His blog only has two posts on it. If it were so connected to his person, so integral to his progression in society, his feed would be loaded with military history, pictures of trains, and the occasional Zoey picture because you can’t go wrong with cute dogs. If social media was his life there would be more of his life on there. And performative socializing can be exhausting, so logically he would seek a place to stop performing.

Or take me. I’m not a big picture taker. Most of the stuff on my phone is stuff I might need later, or pictures of Zoey. It’s pretty much the same on my iPad, with the addition of art and art references. If my social standing depended on taking pictures, then you would see a lot of activity between 7 am and noon, which are my peak productive hours anyway, and things would drop off in the afternoon. Or I’d keep up that level of activity all day and crash at home like I normally do. I, too, would seek a place to be myself. Where I don’t have to perform.

Enter tumblr. With a few exceptions, none of you would recognize me if you saw me in person. There are two pictures of me on this blog, and you would have to dig deep for them. I’ve shared selfies with a few friends, and a similar subset know my actual name. This is on purpose. This was the plan in the first place. I don’t want people connecting me with this blog. I’m different in person than I am here - more on that in my other Black Mirror analysis, “Be Right Back.” And so is my brother.

Personally, I like the weirdness here. None of us care about the approval of strangers on the internet, not so directly that we cater to them if they ask. I would not stop posting about kotor if someone asked me to. I know none of y’all would stop posting about any of your particular topics if I asked. And there is no social incentive for me to keep posting about kotor. Even the existing kotor fandom on tumblr has no idea I exist, or if they do they’re being awful quiet about it (and frankly I would appreciate more noise. After all I reblog their art. Doesn’t anybody love me? Doesn’t anyone care about Sid the Sloth?) In fact, most of the time, if someone says “stop posting X,” the response is just to double the output of X out of pure spite. And why? What’s the social incentive? What does this get us in the broader tumblr society?

Nothing. There is no tangible reward. Notes are fleeting. The joy of being liked sticks with you, but fame too is fleeting, with a few notable exceptions. And even in those few exceptions, I just assume they have large follower counts because they blog like there’s an audience. But so do I. I guarantee you, my follower count is smaller than you think. My sustainability blog is higher, but the fact that the blog has a focus combined with the fact that my voice is rarely there may have something to do with that. Tumblr-focused accounts on other websites like reddit and iFunny could steal from any blog. There isn’t really an algorithm pushing the big posts to get bigger, like there is on other social media. So influencers aren’t so much of a thing here.

I am... not popular in real life. I’m a pleasant enough person, but I’m not constantly socializing because I have to budget my energy. If I spend it all chatting, then when I come home there’s nothing. I also tend to be quiet because I’ve learned that access to my constant internal bogus monologue is off-putting to most. If I come off as callous or brusque it’s only because I don’t want to come off as annoying. So my ranking in “Nosedive” would be mid level and probably stay there. I’m friendly. But I’m not going to ask questions about your life. There’s too much going on *up here* to focus on asking questions to which the answers are irrelevant. I do a lot of polite listening but if you look deeper there’s nothing there. I’m waiting for a question or something that catches my interest. And I’m used to being ignored. So rather than waste your time with babbling, I’ll keep my mouth shut. Do people miss out? Probably. But as I said there’s a lot going on *up here* and I don’t want to subject you to that if you’re not interested.

My dad would have a high ranking. That’s just the life he lives. He is always trading polite pleasantries with people, to the point where us three autistic people in the house can get a little annoyed. “Stop talking to strangers, we have things to do!” Mom’s ranking would also be mid level and stay there, for the same reasons as me, but she does have a tendency to talk a lot. My brother’s would be a high 3. He’s very pleasant, but he’s been dinged a couple times by people who were wrong, so that would hurt his ranking. But Mom and Dad are already themselves. I on the other hand have come to learn that Specs is a person that does not put a good foot forward. Specs does not make good first impressions. It is best to hold them back until my irl has made their impression and been received well. But Specs is a personality that needs to come out. And they are best expressed here, and will be for the foreseeable future. No matter how dystopian it gets.

[saibh29]

Flirting with Danger (2/2)

Pairing: Antonio Dawson x Reader

Warnings: Swearing, Drinking,PG Fluff, think that’s it…

AN: Ending to this little request, I really enjoyed writing this so hope everyone enjoys. Love to everyone and hope everyone is safe. xx

Could you please do an Antonio Dawson x halstead!reader where they both like each other but Antonio won’t do anything because it’s Jays sister. And he sees her talking to someone at Mollys and gets jealous? Thanks x

Molly’s was busy tonight, Herrmann in his constant bid to fill the bar with new customers had organised some live music from a group who’s name you couldn’t recall. It meant that a lot of the standard regulars had retreated to the booths around the edge of the bar grumbling about the general noise and new faces.

You were meant to be meeting Sylvie but she’d already called to say she was stuck at the hospital waiting to sign over responsibility of patient.

So, you were sat at the bar, laughing at Herrmann who was trying desperately to identify 3 cocktails that a group of very out of place high fashion women had ordered.

“Try Gin” you fake whispered to him as he routed around for bottles under the bar.

“Gin?” his head popped up to look at you in desperation. “You think it needs Gin?”

“Negroni is Gin based Herrmann”

“You know about this fancy stuff?”

You were getting a bad feeling about the sudden look in his eyes. “Maybe…”

“Help me” he reached out to grab your wrist. “I’ll give you whatever you want, just help!”

You really didn’t want to get up and go behind the other side of the bar, you did not want to get roped into helping Herrmann on what was bound to be his busiest night for months. However, on the other hand you were a little worried about just how desperate he looked. You weren’t sure what he’d do if you said no.

“Whatever I want?”

Herrmann sensing victory nodded instantly. “You got it darling, anything you want”

“Fine” slipping off your stool you went around the corner of the bar and ducked under the counter to join Herrmann on the other side. “You’re going to owe me big time though”

Herrmann didn’t seem concerned about that and left you doing the more complicated orders, one that didn’t just require him to pop the top off a bottle.

In turned out that actually you were quite enjoying yourself, the customers were in a good mood, the music wasn’t turning out too badly and even the arrival of the intelligence division hadn’t upset you too much.

Jay had laughed and simply ordered the most complicated thing he could think off, which, because it was Jay, wasn’t all that complicated. The others had also just grinned, all of them of course apart from Antonio Dawson.

The only one who was managing to ruin your night, because you were fairly certain he hadn’t stopped staring at you since they had sat down. You were doing your best to just ignore him but his gaze almost felt like a weight on your back.

You’d also seemingly gotten another fan because the paused band had come over to the bar and the drummer wasn’t even trying to be subtle about the fact that he was flirting with you.

Unfortunately, he was probably still in college and you didn’t date people who’s combined digits didn’t add up to more than 5. Even so, it was flattering and it hurt no one to indulge in flirting straight back. Nor, considering that you weren’t actually an employee here, did it hurt to take the drink he offered to buy for you.

You made yourself a rum and coke and handed him the beer he’d ordered before leaning over the bar to smile at him.

“I should ask you for ID”

“C’mon darling” he smiled “I'm not that young”

Sure, he wasn’t. Once again though you resorted to the ‘I don’t work here’ excuse. Anyway, you were pretty certain that Herrmann would have checked their ID before he hired them.

“Younger than me”

“I like older women. They know what their doing”

You couldn’t help the laugh at that line, he’d accompanied it with such a fake lewd smile that you knew he was joking. “You’re cute kid”

“I can work with cute”

“Oh you can huh?”

“Hey!” Herrmann came bustling up to your side. “Y/N I ain’t paying you to flirt. Leave the kid alone, he has to play”

“You aren’t paying me at all Herrmann” you grouched turned to glare at the fireman. “and who says I was flirting”

“You weren’t?” both of the men asked at the same time. Albeit with very different reasons.

Herrmann recovered first. “Scram kid, back to your drum kit. She’s taken”

This time it was you to say “what?”

Herrmann nodded his head over to where intelligence were sat and your blood instantly started to boil because you knew full well what Herrmann was getting at with that previous statement.

The drummer had looked over as well and obviously decided you weren’t worth fighting with Antonio for, especially not if he was doing his murder face, which he probably was. Without another word he grabbed his beer and slunk off back towards his band mates.

Herrmann instantly held his hands up in front of him when you directed your eyes that way.

“Not my fault sweetheart” he said instantly, “nothing to do with me…”

“Y/N”

Herrmann trailed off and quickly made himself busy at the other end of the bar. While you slowly turned around to face Antonio.

“What?”

“Can we talk?”

“About what?”

Antonio sighed rubbing his face in aggravation. “Don’t make me drag you out Y/N”

“Try it” you hissed, eyes flicking over Antonio to where Jay was still sat. “I can scream real loud and you know allllllllllll about my brother”

A war of indecision played out on his face until finally resolve settled and reaching over he grabbed your wrist and yanked you out from behind the bar and dragged you behind him towards the door.

Making the most of your previous warning you did scream for Jay who jerked his head towards you whole body tense to run for you, unfortunately he then saw what was happening and a shit eating grin spread over his face as he relaxed and simply shrugged his shoulders in a ‘what can I do’ sort of way.

Antonio pushed you out the door and backed you into the wall of the back of the bar, hand placed on either side of your head so he could lean into you. With any other male you’d be scared, worried about what he was going to do.

Dawson though?

He wouldn’t hurt you, ever. You knew that. It was that knowledge that was keeping you furiously angry instead.

“What the fuck are you doing Toni?” you snapped rubbing at your wrist. “Dragging people behind you like some sort of dog. Acting like you have some sort of right to dictate who I talk to? Who I can flirt with? What gives you the GODAMNED RIGHT!?”

You were thumping rather ineffectually at his chest during this tirade and apparently your brain had decided it was also ok to start crying. You were going to blame that on an over flow of alcohol from the previous night and just too much confusion about what Antonio wanted from you.

“Shit, sweetheart” his thumb wiped the tears away from your left cheek. “Don’t cry”

“Don’t call me that”

“Why not?”

“It isn’t true” you sniffed managing to get your tears under control. “I'm not…”

Your words got cut off because Toni had leant down the final inches between you and claimed your mouth in a kiss that seared you all the way from the top of your head to your toes. The hands you’d had bunched up to thump him now clung to the material of his shirt holding him close to you as he put one arm around your waist and the other tunnelling into your hair.

“You are” he spoke against your lips. “No more of this trying to ignore you or saying it won’t work because of Jay. None of it”

“None?”

“You’re mine darling, and that’s the end of it”

“I'm not a possession Toni”

He kissed the tip of your nose, the arm around your waist moved down, hand palming your ass and cancelling out the sweet gesture of kissing your nose. “Must be the caveman in me darling, he’s fairly certain you are his”

“Really?”

“Totally”

“And what? He’s going to club me over the head and drag me back to his cave?”

Antonio grinned “I'm not adverse to that idea” He seemed to be thinking for a moment. “I don’t have a club though; would you settle for handcuffs?”

There was another loaded statement if you ever heard one. One that you refrained from answering instead lifting yourself up on tiptoe you settled on kissing him again instead.

@lifesaclimb-buttheviewisgreat  @lclb13 @moli1497   @clementines-x @the-chosen-one-time-lord @no-other-names-availible-blog @angelaiswriting @selldraug @angryares @thenovarose @mindofthescattered  @dontstopxx @iamabeautifulperson18 @madelinecraig03 @ka-x-in @mesmericbell  @weirdpotato-14 @putinontheritzz @soulslaststand @fuckthatfeeling  @ember1201 @morganlb23 @tomhopperarms  @fakingintrest @artprincessbree  @dreamer-lover-laughter @artprincessbree @rime-warrior @captainvaneswife @kapolisradomthoughts @thingsandstuffienjoy @letsgetfuckingsuperwholocked @aya-fay  @itsbubbaog @hp-hogwartsexpress @emmykinzs @thatbadassunicorn @sassywingednightmare @weirdnewbie @goyawriter @shipperfangirling @nathaliabakes @stillreadingfantasy @waywardblueshun @give-jack-a-lightsaber @shipatheart @itsdesiree86 @coffeebooksandfandom​  @smoothdogsgirl  @witchygagirl​ @ollyoxenfrees​ @theatrenerd101601

[turningtummyrubs]

h+l (1)

(In which Henry gets a stomach ache during a dinner party...)

The discomfort starts at the same time as the gala, precisely 9 PM. It’s tolerable, at first. A bit of a nuisance but nowhere near debilitating. Simply a slight churning in Henry’s gut, some mild aching as he walks from guest to guest, mingling and welcoming them all. If he moves too fast, an occasional sharp twinge will pierce dully just below his navel, but it can be quickly dissolved with a strategic press of his fingertips.

“I do so love those petunias,” Miss Crackett coos, golden tresses pinned up neatly in two spiraling braids with delicate cream flowers woven through them like little splashes of vibrance. She’s been blathering on and on about their floral arrangements for the past ten minutes and, frankly, Henry’s growing quite bored.

He straightens his cufflinks and smiles the princeliest smile he can muster. “Why don’t you speak with my brother about the decor? He’s the one who oversees all that stuff. I’m sure he’d be ecstatic to talk with you about it.”

Crackett perks up immediately. “Really? Oh, I’d so love that! Where is he?”

Henry directs her towards his brother, who’s inhaling an entire tray of finger sandwiches. He breathes a lengthy sigh of relief, retreating to a secluded corner when he finally finds himself alone. Miss Crackett truly is a delight, but only in small doses.

He leans back against the wall and takes a long sip of the glass of water he’d picked up on his way across the room. He shifts with discomfort when the water falls heavy in his stomach, sloshing painfully. His stomach is now achingly tender to the touch, as if freshly bruised. Henry would really like to lie down, to give his poor tummy a bit of a rest, but alas duty calls and he’s forced to take his seat near the head of the table by his father when the bell rings, signalling dinner time.

His father, the King, gives a dull, lengthy speech to appease the elders before allowing everyone to eat. Henry almost wishes he’d spoken for even longer because the thought of putting food in his aching belly seems far too daunting a task. The churning in his belly picks up, as if sensing his anxiety.

Henry can’t just not eat though, especially not with Lucien, the prince from the neighbouring county, watching him like a hawk from across the table, searching for something to dissect and stab him with. That’s how they’ve always been, ever since they were young and first met. Their kingdoms have a barely civil relationship filled with passive-aggressive insults and thinly veiled disdain and it seems to have passed on to them. Usually, Henry would be more reciprocal of Lucien’s smouldering stare, but his stomach is far too distracting and it’s too difficult to concentrate on upholding their enemy status.

Henry resignedly loads a heap of turkey, some cranberry sauce, a lop of steaming, butter-y mashed potatoes and a helping of salad onto his plate. Just looking at it nearly triggers his gag reflex, but he knows he’ll need to toughen up and just force all of it down without complaint to keep up appearances. His stomach cramps. Ugh, Henry hates appearances.

He eats the turkey first, which settles like a boulder in his lower belly, rolling like a heavy barrel from side to side. The cranberry sauce that accompanied it was not a good choice. The sweetness sends his upset tummy into a twitching fit. His abdominal muscles burn with a searing soreness at the rapid convulsing. The salad goes down very slowly, and the mashed potatoes up the queasiness factor from a four to a solid nine, the rich butter agitating his strained insides even further.

He obediently drinks the traditional chalice of non-alcoholic cider placed in front of him. Horrendous nausea wells up at the sickly sweetness, and the bubbly fizz causes his stomach to burble like mad. He kneads at the cramps beneath the table, maintaining a polite, composed look on his face all the while.

Something shifts abruptly and his tummy suddenly goes groaningly tight, heavy discomfort pooling in his lower belly. He hesitantly presses his fingertips into the churning area and immediately regrets it when a horrid feeling of queasy nausea wells up his throat. He wills it back down which only succeeds in upsetting his unsettled tummy even further.

The King stands to deliver a final message and orders everyone else seated along the table to stand as well. Henry braces a hand against the table and slowly pushes himself up, face going pinched as his belly rebels against itself violently. His insides strain and burble against the tightness, demanding to be soothed and comforted. Henry swallows and keeps his gaze resolutely forward, which happens to be directly at Lucien.

Lucien's slate eyes bore into him, narrowed and assessing. Henry feels almost naked in front of him. His eyes narrow even further and Henry is certain Lucien's aware of his physical turmoil. Lucien's always been rather perceptive, far more than most. He probably knows more about Henry than anyone simply by watching. And vice versa, Henry supposes. He's not sure how he feels about that.

Henry's father sets down the chalice with a dull thud and, as people begin to disperse, Henry realizes with no small amount of relief that he's finally free to leave. The thought of retiring back to his bedroom actually isn't all that appealing, though. He won't have to pretend to be feeling all right and dandy anymore, but his belly will still be churning just as much and Henry can just tell this pain will last long into the night.

Something twinges low in his gut and he quickly hurries out the door, forcing a smile and waving half-heartedly at the people beginning to cluster around him. A maid—Luce—stops him just outside his door, wrinkling her brow, and says, “Are you quite alright, Prince Henry?”

His smile thins out and he nods shortly, voice clipped as he says, “Fine, thank you.”

She spots the hand hovering over his stomach and his tightly clenched jaw and raises an eyebrow. “Alright, but I’ll drop off a cup of tea and a heat pack just in case, okay?”

Henry smiles, a genuine one this time, small as it is. “Thank you, Luce. You’re amazing.”

She nods once, returning the smile, and scampers off.

Henry closes the door to his bedroom behind him and gingerly eases himself down onto the bed after shutting the thick purple drapes and turning on a tall, sleek, rectangular lamp that bathes the room in a pale white glow. He grunts, forehead creasing, as his belly cramps.

He leans back against the headboard and lightly rubs his belly over the clean dress shirt, breathing heavily as the contents of his stomach writhe and churn, straining against the drum-taut surface. Though his stomach is still flat as ever, everything inside feels heavy and packed, painfully tight and flooding his entire body with a pulsing discomfort. 

As Henry tries his best to quell the twisting unsettlement in his stomach, he can’t get Lucien’s searching eyes out of his mind. Really, he can’t get Lucien at all out. As much as Henry loathes to admit it, Lucien is, well, very attractive. Pale blond hair, eyes like ice and marble skin. He holds a certain striking power that compels everyone to shut up the moment he opens his mouth. The chills that always run down Henry’s spine whenever Lucien speaks used to be mistaken for disdain, now he’s not sure what it is.

A soft knock sounds at the door and Luce pokes her head in, opening the door fully when Henry waves her in. She brings in a tray holding a steaming mug of peppermint tea and two slices of plain toast and sets it down on the nightstand along with a hot pad.

“I know you probably won’t want to eat right now, but something bland like the toast should help in the long run,” Luce says. She’s right. The thought of eating even more is nauseating. “And the hot pack should last for at least half an hour.”

“Thank you, Luce,” Henry says.

After she leaves, he settles the hot pack at the base of his stomach where the tightness lets up to lurching and churning and leans back against the headboard again, shoulders tense as he shifts with discomfort.

He takes a sip of tea and his belly gurgles as the hot tea sloshes down into the pit of his stomach. The warmth feels nice for a moment before his tummy begins cramping around it, prompting him to wince and lightly roll his knuckles over the shifting area. The motion incites lots of achy burbling and he flattens his palm firmly against it in an effort to calm the upset rumbles.

After a moment, Henry readjusts the hot pack and takes a bite of the toast with great trepidation. He forces down the two slices, apprehension growing all the while. He intersperses every few bites with a sip of tea.

The first minute after he’s finished, the agitation in his stomach has started to settle down, but then, to Henry’s great dismay, the new food combined with all that he’d had to consume during dinner strains terribly at his insides, rolling and seizing with abrupt pain. All he can do is sit there and helplessly try to soothe the sick noises coming from his upset tummy.

As the tightness builds, his palm suddenly dips down into a particularly achy spot and a painful burp leaves Henry’s mouth. The churning worsens considerably after that as he frantically attempts to calm his belly. The heavy pressure of the rubbing only succeeds in pushing up a few more nauseous burps, which he stifles with his palm. No matter how hard he tries, he can never seem to locate the spots that will provide more comfort than pain.

The heat pad loses its warmth and the small comfort that had lent him leaves. He pushes it off, the weight now making him queasy and uncomfortable, and kneads at the spot, shifting onto his side. Every roll of his knuckles sends a bout of painful sloshing throughout his belly accompanied by a slew of sickly gurgles.

The bread and tea have now solidified into a tender lump in his stomach, sore to the touch. He lies flat on his back with no small amount of pain and rubs his entire stomach in broad, sweeping circles. He does so very, very lightly with only the tips of his fingers because any further pressure makes his belly squeeze sickeningly with discomfort. He gives a little more attention to the tense, aching knot beneath his navel, groaning miserably when the hesitant palpitations work his burbling insides up further.

Henry’s about to call Luce back to bring him another hot pack when a knock sounds at his door.

“Come in!” he says, suspecting Luce is some sort of mind-reader. Only it’s not Luce. It’s Lucien. His eyes widen before narrowing suspiciously, shoulders tensing. “What’re you doing here, Lucien?”

Lucien enters the room and shuts the door behind him. The dim light faintly illuminates his face, making him look like a statue of some sort of Greek god. He raises a brow. “You’re sick.”

Henry figures it won’t be any use arguing the fact. He sure as hell won’t be able to prove it. “And?”

Lucien takes a seat on the side of the bed Henry isn’t currently occupying as if he owns it and almost arrogantly says, “And I’m here to help, obviously.”

Henry’s brow furrows. “What? Why?”

“You’re the only interesting thing at all these boring parties,” Lucien says plainly. Henry isn’t sure whether to feel insulted or flattered. He supposes it depends on what Lucien’s definition of interesting is.

He’s about to ask when his tummy clenches abruptly, the roiling stirring up a painful storm in his gut. Everything just won’t stop moving. The contents of his stomach constantly straining and shifting beneath the drum-taut surface of his belly, pushing and twisting and lurching, loud and noisy.

Lucien slides Henry’s shirt up, exposing his flat, tanned abdomen, and raises a brow. “May I?”

Henry frowns in confusion but nods.

Lucien’s large, rough palm comes to rest at the base of his stomach, warm and supporting against the cramps. His thumb presses in and up, in and up, from lower belly to navel. He slowly slides his palm down and in a firm circle before pushing up and the heavy pressure coaxes up a burp that leaves Henry sinking back into the sheets with relief, some of that aching tightness alleviated. Lucien continues the massage, rubbing steadily against the roiling unsettlement. 

Henry’s stomach suddenly spasms, a quick, sharp convulsion, and he gasps breathlessly, a soft moan leaving his lips.

Lucien frowns and has him sit up further before saying, “We need to get a bit more food into you. You’re not digesting things properly. I think applesauce would probably work best.”

Henry’s cheeks flush in dismay. “No, it will not. It’ll only make it hurt more.”

Lucien sighs. “Yes, but it will help in the end.”

“Do I have to?” Henry asks, feeling very much like a small child.

Lucien raises an eyebrow, the corners of his mouth softening slightly. “If you want to feel better, yes.”

Henry sighs, shoulders slumping in defeat. “Fine…”

Lucien calls Luce back and sends her off to the kitchens for a cup of applesauce. The quickly growing anxiety inside Henry makes his tummy even more upset and Lucien patiently rubs back and forth at the churning, hand pressing in further whenever he feels the contents of Henry’s stomach shift a certain way. Lucien’s right, Henry realizes. All this packed heaviness won’t go away on its own, so no matter how hard it’s going to be, he’ll have to finish all that applesauce.

Luce arrives with a small bowl of applesauce a few minutes later, and, to Henry’s great disappointment, Lucien quits his soothing ministrations to get up and take it, thanking Luce. He sits back down on the bed and holds out a spoonful for Henry to eat. Henry’s fingers tighten in the sheets with apprehension, but he takes a bite of the applesauce. His face crumples as the sickly sweet mush slides down his throat and settles in his stomach, nausea welling up his throat. 

He realizes, panicked, that this time the nausea is truly coming. Lucien must realize, too, because he swiftly grabs the small trash can by Henry’s bed and places it beneath the side of the bed where he’s suddenly lurched over. 

“I don’t wanna… I don’t—” Henry pants, eyes stinging with the effort it takes not to throw up. It’ll feel horrible and gross and his tummy will feel so upset afterwards.

Lucien settles a hand on Henry’s back, rubbing broad circles. “Come on, Henry, you’re just going to have to let it out.” He slips his hand beneath Henry’s shirt, directly on top of that soft burbling area, and abruptly presses in with the heel of his palm. That’s what does it. 

Henry flops back against the bed after he’s done, miserable and thoroughly spent. Lucien gets up to go retrieve a glass of water and a washcloth. His stomach is so upset now it’s churning like a whirl pool, the contents twisting and spinning rapidly. He doesn’t even bother trying to quell the heavy discomfort. The thought of any further disturbance makes him want to throw up all over again.

Lucien returns and helps him back up into a sitting position, the covers pooling at his waist. He hands him a glass of water and Henry drinks it greedily. Lucien then picks the bowl of applesauce back up again and feeds more of it to a miserable Henry. After every spoonful, Lucien smooths his palm against the distress building in Henry’s stomach, hand sliding smoothly back and forth along his tummy.

After Henry’s completely finished with the applesauce, groaning and squirming with horrible discomfort, Lucien can feel his suffering tummy begin to take its course. As if to signal the start of digestion, it starts making loud, sickly noises. Every press of Lucien’s palm brings with it a distorted gurgle, louder in the areas that make Henry more nauseous.

Lucien kneads gently but firmly at the tight area directly beneath Henry’s ribs, coaxing up some alleviating burps. Then, he massages the gurgly sick areas, palpating quickly with his fingertips at the cramped heaviness and cupping the burbling shifts and lurches with his rough palm, smoothing it all up. Every firm stroke brings up a small, nauseous burp that leaves Henry groaning with pain, face crumpling momentarily each time.

Lucien presses and rubs the particularly nauseous, achingly tender area of his belly directly above his waist, bringing up the most painful burp yet that, after a moment of anguish, leaves Henry sighing with relief.

After that, Lucien rubs away the rest of the minor aches and twinges with broad circles, clockwise to help aid the gurgling digestion. Once the pain has settled into a faintly dull ache, he moves behind Henry and instructs him to lean forward, dropping his head. He rubs large, warm circles into his tense back, then slides his hands up and down, stopping to squeeze his strained shoulders each time, until Henry is pliant and relaxed, warm and content as his belly gurgles away.

———

can’t say i’m too proud of this one, unfortunately. it’s some pretty old work (lmao only like a month old) but i’ve definitely grown a lot since then. anyway, these are my ocs henry and lucien! there’s no real plot to any of my stories so they don’t have a grand storyline or anything like that, but i like them haha

[revisionaryhistory]

Three Days ~ 37

~*~Emma~*~

 Things are running very hot here. I don't mean the sex. Although, the sex is hot. This man. Oh fuck, I don't even know what to think. Thinking isn't the issue anyway. Unless it's that I'm not. Which I don't think is true. It's just that he feels so damn good.

I woke up before my alarm. Sebastian was on his stomach with one arm tucked under the pillow. I noticed a couple of freckles on his back and smiled. He looked completely relaxed and I decided to let him sleep a little longer. I slipped out of bed, tied my robe, and headed downstairs to make breakfast.

 A man-sized version of a rumbled little boy walked into the kitchen about thirty minutes later. He wore only his boxers and that he felt comfortable enough in my house to walk around half-naked made me smile.

 "I woke up alone." He came up behind me at the stove, pulling my hair to the side and kissing the back of my neck.

 Such a simple yet intimate act. I put my hand on his face, "You looked so peaceful. I thought I'd get coffee and breakfast going."

 He looked at the crumbled meat in the pan, "Is that going to be sausage gravy?"

"It is." I could feel him smile against my neck. "Biscuits are in the oven."

"You're so good to me." His arm snaked around my waist, holding me close.

I stroked the back of his head, "I like taking care of people I care for." I turned my head for a kiss. "Why don't you get some coffee and sit down. Breakfast will be another ten minutes."

He kissed my neck again, "I’m starving."  

 Sebastian kept talking while he fixed his coffee, telling me about the food on set and how shitty the biscuits were compared to the restaurant they’d gone to one morning. This led to a general conversation about craft services on set, location, and at concert venues. While it was on a much lesser scale it made for good conversation that I had some knowledge of this stuff. I could share stories and we could laugh together. I think I might feel like a fan if I didn’t have a point of reference and I would imagine that could be uncomfortable for him.

 He hadn’t sat down, preferring to lean in the corner a few feet from where I was stirring. I took my hand from the handle of the pan and motioned for him, “Come here.”

 Sebastian smiled and took the three steps to me, “Yes?”

 I slid my hand from his side around to his back and urged him closer, turning my face up for a kiss. “Will you pour this in the bowl for me, please?”

 “Of course.”

While he did that, I checked the biscuits and pulled them out. He put the pan back on the stove and looked at the biscuits, taking a deep breath. “Smells delicious.”

 “I hope you like it.” I was a little nervous cooking for him.

 He hugged me, putting his hand inside my robe to touch skin, “I’m sure I will.”

 The first bite had him letting out a satisfied groan, “Oh wow.” He took another bite and covered his mouth with his hand, “Seriously, Em, it’s delicious.”

 “Thank you.”

 Sebastian finished chewing, put his hand on the back of my neck, and kissed me, “Thank you.”  When we were finished, he pushed our plates to the other side of the breakfast bar, “You go shower and I’ll clean up.”

 “You sure.”

 He nodded, “Yep, you cooked. I’ll clean up.”

 “Your mom taught you well.” I kissed his bare shoulder and went upstairs.

 I called the Uber to pick us up at ten-thirty. We were downstairs and ready about ten minutes before. Sebastian looked all boy in black basketball shorts, a blue Under Armor shirt, and a baseball cap. I had on an oversized t-shirt over my team tank top and sweat pants with my hair pulled up in a ponytail. The combined excitement of him and the tournament had me keyed up.  Bouncy. Hyperactive even. Unable to sit down, I wandered around while Sebastian sat in the chair scrolling through something on his phone. “You ok there, babe?”

 I was hoping he hadn’t noticed. I jumped up and down a few times, “Nervous energy.”

 He still hadn’t looked up and shook his head, “We should have had sex in the shower.” Now, he looked up with a grin. “Calmed you down.”

 I laughed and walked over, sitting down on his lap when moved his phone out of the way. “Dammit.”

 “Nervous or excited?” He laid his arm over my legs, taking my hand in his.

 “Both.” I fiddled with his fingers. “It’ll go away once the game starts.” I looked up, “Unless it’s all about you.”

 He jerked his head back, “Why are you nervous about me?”

 “The other one. Excited.” I brushed my lips against his softly.

 “Good.”

 I’d told the driver to honk and the noise cut through the moment. “Time to go.”

 I jumped up off his lap, keeping his hand, and grabbing my bag from by the door. It held extra ponytail holders, Advil, tape, a first kit, and cooling rags. We got to the bar way early, a habit of mine. It was good though because I wanted to get Sebastian where he could see. There were four courts with court one in front with seating around two sides. The other three courts were lined up with court four tucked in behind court one with really no seating. The deck along the short side of court one ran the long side of most of court three and all of court two then around the corner of it. Obviously, the better games were going to be on courts one and two.  The deck would be loaded with umbrella-covered tables and a long counter ran along the railing for observing. When the games were over (or any other night) it was just a big outdoor bar. It was a huge complex. Inside was a big open area with a bar that wrapped around two sides. Anything could be going on inside. Karaoke, live band, or a DJ.  

 The Uber dropped us around back and we headed onto the deck. A covered area at the corner of court one was set up for registration and had a board set up with a blown-up bracket. The league coordinator was behind the table and I headed toward him. “Hey, Roger.”

 “Emma. Early as always.” He gathered the paperwork.

 “I want a table by one and two.”

 He looked around for the table signs, “Yep, taken care of. You’ve got your pick.”

 I took our registration papers and the signs with a laugh, “Which is why I’m always early.”

 “And you live five minutes away.”

 “Details.” I waved the papers, took Sebastian’s hand, and headed toward court one, explaining as we walked. “The higher seeded games and the championship will be on one, so we’ll get those tables first. Fingers crossed we play there. We always buy a couple of tables at a tournament because it’s just easier.” I stuck our “Player Reserved Demonic Crickets” sign in the table coils of the table closest to the net of court one then headed back the way we came, to the other side of the complex. “Friends are assured a good view and if we’re out a round we’ve got a place to hang.” I pointed to the other courts, “There are approximate start times for games, but past the first round it’s back to back, so times depends on how fast the games go. Seating for the other games isn’t as easy. Four sucks. Since we’re the three seed we’ll start on court three, but if we win we’ll bump up to court two then one. It’s a double-elimination tournament. The winner’s bracket will be on one and two, losers on three and four.”  I looked between the tables and put the sign up. “You can always go to another table or the railing.” I changed my mind and moved the sign, nodding with my new choice.

 I looked at Sebastian. He was fighting a smile. “This is a new and interesting side to you.”

 I laughed, “You mean the obsessive planner part?”

 “Yeah.”  He wrapped our joined hands behind my back, “Cute and a little annoying.”

 “Also, useful.” I annoyed myself sometimes.

 “I’m sure.” He nodded, kissed my forehead, and let me go.

 I moved to the table and started filling out the form. Standard roster and liability waiver stuff. “Pick your seat, we’ll play here first.”

 “Sure you don’t want to pick for me?”

 A glared playfully at him and went back to the form. Without looking up I pointed to my right, “That one.”

 I could see him suppressing a laugh as he put my bag in the chair I’d pointed to. “Mostly cute.”

 When he’d asked to come, I didn’t even think about him sitting up here with people he didn’t know. I was just excited to see him again. Only when I’d been picking tables did it hit me, I’d be on the court most of the day. “The place won’t fill up until later, closer to dinnertime and the semi-finals.”

 “Don’t worry about me. I’m excited to meet your friends. Do you know where the men's room is?"

I pointed to the end of the building, "Straight through those doors."

"Be right back." He ran his fingers along my lower back as he passed by.

I watched him walk away, twirling the pen against my lip. I stayed lost in my thoughts after he'd gone through the door.

A voice startled me, "Earth to Emma."

 I turned my head, "Right on time."

 Pete gave me a one-armed hug, "You're early so we don't have to be."

All five had walked up together, "Carpool?"

Lindsey shook her head, "No, people kept showing up in the parking lot."

Lindsey's girlfriend Samantha was standing with Pete's husband, Scott. Samantha had a dry almost bitchy sense of humor which I loved, "I’m apparently the designated bar bitch."

 I hugged her, "I brought a bar bitch too. He's in the bathroom." I pointed to the papers, "Sign so we can get them turned in and warm up.”

 Scott looked at Samantha, "Since your bar bitch, I’ll be paperwork bitch."

Where is Sebastian? This conversation would be perfect for an introduction. Everyone signed, Scott took off with the paperwork and the other’s headed to the court, Sam and I sat the table.

 Sam pointed to my bag, "Your date there? "

 I nodded.

 "Will I like him?"

 "Hopefully you'll all like him."

 Sam gave me a look that said she knew I was hedging the question. We’d become friends over her lack of tolerance for bullshit, which is why I answered, "I’m sure you and Pete will get along great with him. Becky’s going to be weird."

 Sam snickered, "Because Becky's weird. Nick and Jeff were dicks last night. Hope their mood is better today."

 I’d skipped out on drinks last night. Glad I missed moody boys, but I wasn't worried, "Maybe they got stoned on the way. Nick plays better stoned anyway." I looked toward the building and thought I could see Sebastian pacing in front of the darkened window. Someone must have called.

 Jeff yelled from the court, “You coming, Emma?”

 Sam turned her back on the court, “See?”

 I rolled my eyes and walked over. I didn’t want to walk around to the end of the courts so I climbed over the railing to get under the netting and landed on our bench.

Scott and Becky had designed out shirts. We all had bright blue tank tops with long armholes. Sports bras were easily visible and I’m pretty sure Becky considered that a feature rather than a bug. Not that I’d protested. I’m very competitive, but there was a social aspect to the game. Looking cute after the game didn’t hurt. Our team name and a graphic of a cricket with demon horns and an evil grin was on the front. Our first names on the back. The three girls had always worn volleyball shorts, but I’d bought us bright orange ones for today.  They were the ones I preferred in college and it’s possible they were a little shorter than what we usually wore.

 I stood up from the bench, tossing my sweats down, and adjusting my shorts. Nick looked at the three of us, “That’s going to distract the other team."

 A voice from behind me called out, "Fuck, that's gonna distract me."

I turned to meet his eyes, "You’re easy."

He leaned forward, "Only for you, baby."

 Nick groaned, "New relationships make me want to vomit."

Jeff added, "Which is why you don’t have one."

Not a one of them looked like they recognized him. I used their banter to give me time to walk over, step on the bench, and touch him through the netting, "Everything ok? You were gone a while."

"Emily called. Best to take it or she’d keep calling. Sorry."

I shook my head and turned back to the team, “Everyone, this is Sebastian." I pointed as I said names, “Pete, Becky, Lindsey, Nick, and Jeff."

The net made handshakes impossible, so he waved, "Nice to meet all of you."

Pete was the first to do the double-take. He pointed to the table, "That’s my husband Scott."

Lindsey repeated his gesture, "My girlfriend Samantha.”

 Sebastian nodded and looked toward the table. “I’m going to go introduce myself and let you guys get ready." He looked at me. “Need anything?"

"Not yet."

He got close to the netting, nodding his head back, "Come here."

 I got closer and kissed him between the netting. He whispered, "Good luck."

 Sebastian was few feet away when Pete did a Ricky Ricardo imitation, “Lucy, you got some ‘splainin to do."

 I glared and pointed a finger at them, “Do not embarrass me.”

 Nick laughed, “Oh, you can be sure that’s going to happen.”

 “He’s our Hall Pass.” Pete smiled dirtily.

 “Both of you?” Jeff shook his head.

 “Definitely. We own more than one copy of Political Animals and Kings.”

 I raised my shoulders and shook my head, “Don’t know what that is.”

 “Your boyfriend kisses boys in both.”

 I cringed, “I wouldn’t use the word boyfriend.”

 Pete grabbed a ball and rolled his eyes, “Whatever. He kisses boys. Hall Pass.”

 I followed behind with Becky and Lindsey, “That’s kinda hot.”

 Jeff passed a ball to me, “Have you not Googled these things?”

 “No, disrespectful. No Googling. We’re just getting to know each other the normal way.”

 Pete passed off to Lindsey, “I’ll send you pictures.”