#ended up bringing them in after the house was built (they were still stuck there. for days) and they had trouble getting up stairs too

[eudico-my-beloved]

managed to pirate minecraft and just built a fuckass house B)

[pinkcarnatixns]

georgia stanway | flowers for vases

synopsis georgia does her first tattoo on you, it leads to a confession after of years of feelings [1.6K] contents best friends to lovers, nervous georgia, tattooing, mentions of needles

You normally took pride in your fearlessness when it came to adding to your growing collection of ink on your skin, but now you were completely petrified.

When Georgia had first approached you to be her canvas for her very first tattoo on real skin, you had immediately agreed- your haste chalked up to a trust built on years of friendship and definitely not the fact you’d do anything she asked. 

What your sometimes scatterbrained best friend had forgotten to mention was that this was not a private affair, but a moment that was going to be televised for all the nation to see. Of course, this meant that you’d have to act like you weren’t completely smitten with the woman-  in front of a bunch of cameras while you tried to not blush at her hands on you. 

Safe to say, you were quite ticked off with Georgia when you first arrived at the small tattoo studio’s address, only to be greeted with people rushing filming equipment inside the building from a van with a big ‘BBC’ plastered on the side. When you entered the studio with a quirked eyebrow and crossed arms, her face clearly dropped as she realized her mistake, rushing over to your side. 

“I completely forgot to mention the filming part, didn’t I?” She pouts at you, grabbing a hold of your bicep to plead her case.

You sighed, “You know, I really thought this was a sweet gesture of trust between us, not to get you a big check from the BBC.”

At your jest, she deflated even further and you struggled to stop your lips from quirking up at her dramatics. You could never stay mad at her for very long, especially when she made you laugh just by being in the same room as her. Still, you were a bit mortified at the possible outing of your feelings for the girl being broadcast to the world, so you tried your best to hold your ground. 

“It’s not like that at all! You know there’s nobody else I’d rather share this with, I swear!” She held onto your biceps tightly, and you felt your resolve washing away like a sand castle with the wave of her cologne that hit your nose. 

Her hands were trembling lightly, and at her gaze and proximity you quickly turned shy, only managing to mumble out, “You don’t mind sharing it with everyone in the nation, clearly.” 

However, taking pity on her already clearly fried nerves, you followed the snark up with a playful eye roll and returned her gaze. “Well, since I’m here, let’s see what you’re going to put on my body forever.” 

Her already big brown eyes seemed to light up at your compliance, and she gently pulled on your forearms to uncross them with a blinding smile. She effortlessly initiated the intertwining of your hands, nearly dragging your shocked form to the ground with her fervor to show you what she had drawn. 

She got shy as you both approached her already prepped little work table, going quiet as you peered down at the paper and leaning into your body for comfort. The warmth that spread through your body at your still entwined hands creeped all the way up to your ears at what she had designed just for you: a little broken flower vase. 

When you two had first met as kids, Georgia, persistent to impress you with her football skills- had wrongly decided to do so inside your house. When this naturally ended in the broken heirloom, and your mother’s harsh scolding, you had taken the fall for the overexcitable girl. She had been inconsolable at the mess she had caused, promising to make up for it someday. To this day, she still felt guilty for the incident while you often brought it up, joking that she was only still by your side to repay her debt. 

Through all the growing pains and hard times, you had stuck by each other’s sides. Even when you got into fights, one of you would always bring up the vase as an olive branch, knowing that it really meant that you could never get rid of one another. 

Your eyes got misty, your heartbeat in your ears drowning out the hustle and bustle around you two, “Georgia, that’s so sweet- you sap.”

“You really like it? Don’t lie.” Her hand nervously fiddled with the rings that adorned yours, both of you refusing to meet each other’s eyes. In a moment of bravery, you pecked her on the cheek and rested your head on her slightly taller shoulder. 

“I love it. Can’t wait to have it on me forever.” You punctuated the genuine words with a squeeze to your intertwined hands, hoping to calm her nerves with the action. 

She stumbled a bit over her sentence, before forcing it out nearly too fast for you to catch it, “There’s three flowers on one side and then one on the other. Y’know like 31, like my number at Bayern.”

Your head jumped off your shoulder, gaping at her as she was locked in a staring contest with the table- cheeks red like she had just played a full 90. With your heartbeat nearly breaking at the confines of your ribcage, you decided to lean into the moment, tripping over your words a bit but whispering. “That’s perfect. I like it even more now.”

At your reassurance, she shyly met your sincere gaze, struggling to keep a goofy smile subdued as you nodded at each other.

Your little bubble was broken when a crew member called for her presence, apologizing for interrupting as he dragged her over for an interview. You watched on with hearts in your eyes as she spoke to the camera, her sincere appreciation for the art shining through with every word and the sparkle in her eye. Caught up in watching her, you barely realized when they had wrapped up, rushing over to her side after missing your name being called a couple times.  

They perched you up on a stool for her to place the stencil on your calf, sighing in relief as it peeled off exactly as she wanted it. She gently held your hand to help you down, using it to guide you over to the table while instructing you to lay down comfortably.

When she actually starts dancing the needle over your skin and attempting to answer questions at the same time, she clearly struggles. Nearly every time she punctures your flesh, she can’t help but look to you for your reaction- scared to hurt you. You try not to laugh as her sentences trail off again and again as she continually locks eyes with you, knowing she’s going to make the editor’s job a nightmare. As she nears finishing, you try to shoot her encouraging smiles, wishing you could tell her how good she was doing if not for the mics that would pick it up. 

The tattoo takes quite long for how simple the design is, partly due to her insistence on doing everything right, stopping for the littlest things. It’s sweet that she’s so adamant to not hurt you or have the ink blow out, but it’s pretty comical and clear that the camera crew is getting antsy. You are happy to sit for as long as she needs, content with the heat of her palm through her gloves soothing the ache of the needle, but try to silently encourage her in order to get everyone out on time. 

As she takes the final swipe of a paper towel over your skin and declares that she’s finished with a shaky breath, the first thing she does is to once again look at you. She visibly relaxes as you send her a beaming smile, taking your hands to move you to sit upright. You admire her work as she turns to give you her water bottle, watching you like a hawk as you take a sip.

You get shy at her attention, “I’m not going to pass out you know, I’m literally covered in tattoos already.”

“You’re really feeling alright? We can take pictures after you have a second, yeah?” 

“Georgia really, you look much more lightheaded than me. You did great, I promise.” As you try to scoot off the bench, her hands stop you- pinning your thighs to the table. The position forces her to lean closer to you, putting you at eye level with one another. She has a certain determination in her eyes, but is clearly quite mortified at the proximity her actions have caused.

Still, with her big brown eyes boring into yours, slightly rough palms on your naked thighs, and the slight dizziness that you do feel- you look around the room to see everyone busy packing up before you do something drastic. As you turn back to her soft gaze, a slight tilt to her head and a quick glance at your lips is all the encouragement you need. 

Your hands cover hers, desperate for something to ground you as you lean in to peck her lips. At your slight movement, she excitedly surges forward and you clash much harder than you had expected. 

Pulling away, you’re both reduced to hysterics at the release of the tension that the day caused, and for finally giving in to a moment to had both waited for all your lives. Who knew it would take her marking you forever for you both to make a move.

a/n: wow so sorry I have not uploaded in forever! midterms absolutely kicked my butt and then I was celebrating my birthday! anyways I'm not super happy with this but I hope yall enjoyed <3

my requests are still open and i will really try to be much quicker in getting to them lol

[charliehoennam]

hero's homestead

A/N: just a lil blurb I've had stuck on my mind and had to frigging get out since watching Road House

Pairing: Elwood Dalton x f!reader

Warnings: physical injuries, jealousy, kissing, mentions of grief and death

SHARING IS CARING, SO PLEASE REBLOG

Growing up in Glass Key made your face quite familiar around these parts. Everyone knew you, not because you were popular or from a rich family. Lord knows you wish you were.

But because the island was just so small, like a little fishbowl with too many sharks circling around their prey, everyone knew each other around here. However, the small island was full of a strong sense of community.

Your friendship with Charlie started while you were in high school. You were just a freshman and Charlie was six when Stephen and his wife would very often ask you to baby-sit.

Saying no to them was nearly impossible. Not only did they pay you well, but they always offered you a ride home and made you sure you had dinner before leaving. They really treated you like you were part of the family and helping one another in the community was just so normal.

They always treated you with welcoming kindness and respect so, if there was anything you could do to help them, you did it. Aside from baby-sitting Charlie, this included working at their book store.

You were around there most of the time. If you weren't at home or at school, you were at Glass Books.

As you got older, you started to spend less and less time there in order to focus on your own personal and professional life.

That didn't mean you were never around anymore. You still made your frequent stop to buy the new read of the week.

"Why don't you just get all the books you want for the month, so you don't have to keep coming back?" Charlie questioned genuinely curious.

"Nah, I like coming here. I like the service. And besides, you'd miss me too much, kid" you chuckled watching the young teenage ring your book up at the register.

When Stephen told you about his wife's illness, it really took you by surprise. She could've easily been voted the happiest woman of Glass Key. The aura she possessed could make the dullest room become the brightest. Her sense of humor would have even the most no-nonsense person cracking a smile. She was an amazing woman and a motherly figure to most.

The entire community mourned her loss. The blue sky and the tropical environment wasn't enough to brighten the day for your neighborhood's residents. The heavy rains that followed that entire week led you to believe that even the island was weeping for her absence.

Between medical expenses, funeral costs and a growing teenager, Stephen had to learn to be a single father quite fast. And that meant working a full-time job to make end's meet.

He asked you to help out with the store and you happily agreed. Glass Books was his wife's dream. She loved spending her days there, in the cozy little bookstore she'd built with the love of her life.

Although you know Stephen has a lot on his plate, you can't help but wonder if he wants to avoid the store and her memory altogether.

You refused to accept money for it, knowing the shop didn't make so much money. Even so, Stephen would still transfer you a small amount whenever he could and would often bring you breakfast, lunch or dinner because he felt it was the least he could do.

All you wanted to do was help.

He was more than grateful, especially when he saw how you could make Charlie laugh by putting on music and dancing in the middle of the store with her.

He could see her slipping into a dark place after the death of her mother. Dealing with his own pain, he did his best. But, you were the best friend she needed. A feminine figure she could go to talk about more embarrassing situations or just to get her mind off of the loss.

Gradually, it seemed like their small family was beginning to heal. Although the loss was a still a fresh wound, and Stephen would often find Charlie clutching a small portrait of her mother asleep in bed, they were managing to keep the pain at bay.

You understand how important this store to them. It represents so much more than being just a simple local book store. It represents her.

The store was just as special to you as it was to Charlie and Stephen.

It had always been your refuge, but now, it was always the place where you met him.

Charlie, with her overly friendly nature that she inherited from her mother, struck up a conversation with the then stranger just outside the bookstore.

Her overprotective father was soon outside within seconds. Although the friendly streak ran deep within him too, he knew these parts were full of men with bad intentions.

Once he realized the stranger wasn't from around, he felt a little more at ease.

Although you remained inside the shop, you could overhear their conversation as you inched towards the door and opened it to stand in the doorway, eyeing the stranger with caution.

Stephen was surprised to know he'd come out of town to work at the Road House. To be honest, neither of you expected him to last very long. At that place, security never does.

The bouncer turnover never ceased with the riots that broke out there almost every night. So, you didn't bother getting your hopes up.

However, Dalton kept coming back. Every other day, he came in with the excuse of using the computer or buying a book just to strike up a conversation with you and lay down his flirtatious charm.

Charlie was the first to notice he would always come around when you were there and, if you weren't, he'd always make sure to ask when you were.

She had quite a bit of fun poking fun at you, telling you he had a crush on you or mocking the unconscious change in your voice you had when talking to him.

It didn't long take for feelings to develop between you and him. There was no doubt in either of you. Although unspoken, the magnetic attraction was undeniably present.

Some of those talks were deep and you felt you could confide in him to share things you hadn't shared with anyone at all. He, in turn, told you about the night on the train tracks and how the last fight he had in the ring haunted him every night.

There was no denying the bond you were forming. However, the rumors that were spreading around the island about the closeness between Ellie and him made you hesitant to make the first move.

When you casually brought it up into conversation, he shook his head and told you it wasn't anything serious and that she'd took him on a date once. You wanted to ask him if he had feelings for her, but that would be too much.

"So what's the deal with you and Dalton?" Charlie curiously asked, having picked up on the constant courtship that you two refused to act on.

"There is no deal. We're just friends. Hardly that."

"I may be young, but I'm no fool. I know there's something going on between you two."

"Sorry to disappoint you, kid, but there isn't. Besides, I hear he's got a sort of a girlfriend" you replied without looking up at her from the book in your hand.

You were both sat in fold-out beach chairs placed in front of the store, enjoying a couple of white cherry slushies, hoping the ice cold drink could soothe the hot, humid weather.

"How do you have a 'sort of girlfriend'? Either she is or isn't."

"Those things are complicated. I guess they're getting to know each other," you shrugged wishing you could avoid the topic.

"Like you guys are?"

"There is nothing going on. Sure, he's cute and funny and all, but he's seeing someone else. He's not interested in me, Charlie."

"So, you are interested in him?"

"It doesn't matter if I am. She's a doctor, she's smart and she's really pretty and drives a nice car. I know I don't stand a chance, so I'd rather not get my hopes up," you rambled, failing to read anything on the page you were stuck on. "Can we please drop this now?"

"Oh my god," she smirked staring at you. "You're jealous."

You scoffed at her ridiculous accusation and shook your head as you closed the book and set it in your lap.

"I am not jealous. I do not get jealous."

"Yes, you are! You totally are!"

"I am not! I just don't want to talk about this anymore, alright? So can we drop it?"

"Alright, alright. Sorry I brought it up."

She couldn't stop smiling as you opened your book to continue reading. Although you weren't her parents, her mind couldn't stop thinking of a way to parent-trap you into getting together.

However, her plans were brought to a halt when Brandt's lackeys invaded the shop just a few days later.

You tried your best to stand your ground and defend the shop along with Stephen. He told you to leave, but you refused.

After the beatdown you both received unwillingly, a fire had been set and the cruel men left. The adrenaline that surged through your bodies was enough to numb the pain in order to get you both quickly back on your feet to put out the fire.

Between the blood loss and the resurfacing pain, the billowing smoke got stronger and stronger. The flames became too strong too quickly and had engulfed the entire wall across the front counter.

Light-headed and dizzy, Stephen tried to save whatever he could from the store. As you rushed back and forth, you realized that the fire had grown too much and swallowed the front entrance.

The heat of it shattered the glass windows. The open air only fueled the fire more. Coughing from the heavy smoke, both you and Stephen got down on the floor to avoid the unbreathable air and attempted to crawl to the back exit.

Everything went dark after that and melded into one huge blur.

You don't remember when you actually blacked out, but you do remember feeling relieved once you heard the fire department's arrival.

The time you spent in the hospital was short - only a couple of days - but it was enough to make you reflect on your life.

An overwhelming sense of regret washed over you as you thought about Dalton.

You'd only known each other for a few weeks, but what if you could've had something special? What if Charlie's jokes were true and he actually ended up to be your soulmate?

She could be wrong too, but the fact that you could've died and never found out if you ever really did stand a chance ate at your mind.

You hadn't fully realized the extent of your attachment until a couple days later.

You show up at the store with a limp from the beatdown you'd received a couple days ago.

Stephan tries to assure you they're fine, that you need to rest and recover, but you argue that you'll go insane if you stay at home with nothing to do, high on pain meds.

Helping the owners clean and salvage whatever they can, Charlie casually mentions that Dalton and left her and her father a suitcase full of money to rebuild the store before he got on a greyhound bus destined to leave Glass Key.

The same regret you'd felt in the hospital strikes you again and secretly consumes you.

You try to play it off and instruct her to not to tell anyone about the money. You barely understand what she said after that. All you can think about for the rest of that morning is that he left and didn't even say goodbye.

When Charlie and her father invite you to get some lunch with them, you politely refuse, opting to stay back and keep yourself busy. You lie and tell them you had a big breakfast beforehand just so they won't worry.

You promised you wouldn't get your hopes up. You knew better than that. Bouncers never last at the Road House. You know this just as well as any of the other residents of Glass Key.

He's gone now.

You just want to be alone for a bit to process it.

The door opens and the bell above it rings as you sweep away at the shattered glass, forcing you to look back over your shoulder.

The sight you see has you frozen in surprise.

His face is impossible to forget. You could never forget those big blue doe eyes, even with the dark skin that circles his right eye.

You groan lightly at the shooting pain from your broken rib as you straighten and turn to face him, holding the broom by your side as you stand next to it.

Dalton closes the glassless door behind him as he greets you with a silent but friendly smile until the cut on your lip and the black eye remind him of the damage he caused.

He doesn't look too different from you. His eye is still a little swollen but mostly black now, his lip busted and the stitches on his eyebrow are all evidence that business has been handled at the Road House.

"So, the Glass Key hero returns" you smile at him, ignoring the sting on your bottom lip. "Charlie said you were riding off into the sunset. You forget something?"

"I'm not a hero and, no, I didn't" he starts, looking around the burned down shop trying to swallow his guilt.

"Changed your mind?"

"Someone kinda changed it for me, actually. A very wise person told me that heroes don't always have to ride off into the sunset. They can stay and make a homestead instead."

Joy bursts within you like fireworks on new years. You try to fight back the smile that creeps onto you lips.

"Thought you weren't a hero."

"I'm not."

You nod biting the inside of your cheek to mask your excitement. You take the second broom that Charlie had been using earlier and left leaning against the wall by the front door.

"This homestead could use a hand" you smile and offer him the broom.

He takes it with a happy grin, feeling finally accepted as if he finally found somewhere he belongs.

"There's, uh, one more thing" he says in a soft voice.

His hand raises to your chin, tilting your head up as he cranes his neck to kiss you in the most tender of ways.

Unable to forget about Ellie, you place a hand on his chest and gently push to stop the kiss.

Dalton's face contorts with confusion. He doesn't notice the breath he's holding, anxiety settling in as he fears that you'll ask him to stop. Maybe he got the wrong signals and you don't like him that way. He'd respect it, if that's the case, but it doesn't mean his heart won't be crushed.

"I thought you were seeing Ellie?"

He blinks slightly surprised. That's not what he had expected to hear, but it makes him kind of happy that you're not asking him to stop.

"She took me on a date and we kissed, but that was it."

"So, you are dating her?"

"What, are you jealous?"

"Why does everyone keep saying that? I'm not jealous."

"You sound a little jealous" he smirks.

"I'm not. I just... I don't wanna get my hopes up."

"I'm not dating her," he says gently stroking your bruised cheek. "I told her there's someone else for me, someone that I really wanna date."

He gazes into your eyes as you smile up at him and let him continue his kiss. You let his lips linger on yours and smile when you feel them stretch into a grin.

The cuts on your mouths hurt, but neither of you bother to pull away.

His kiss gradually intensifies. His tongue flicks over your bottom lip, politely asking for entrance. His free hand reaches for your waist as the other sets against your cheek, leaving the broom tucked in his arm.

You let his tongue slip past your defenses. The gentle way his hand cradles your face has you holding onto his strong forearm and the other broom for balance as the room spins around you from his vertiginous kiss.

Your chest presses against his as you moan softly into his mouth. It takes him every ounce of his self-control to not pin you against the wall.

The bell rings again, alerting you both of another's presence so you quickly pull apart, trying to quickly compose yourselves. Your eyes shoot to the door along with Dalton's.

You realize who it is, so he shyly lets his eyes wander around what's left of the store and sweeps the ashy floor.

"Hope I'm not interrupting anything," Charlie smirks sipping her juice from a straw as she stands in the doorway.

"No, no," you reply nervously as heat pools in your cheeks. "Dalton and I were just, uh, cleaning up."

"Cleaning what? The floor or each other's throats?"

Dalton snickers at her candor, glancing at you until she continues.

"Good to see you're back though. And if you ask me, it's about time."

[idontknowreallyidontcare]

Silly Husband!König decided to give it a try to one of Soap’s girlfriend’s ideas. Out with the boys for a beer, he let it slip that in some weeks you’d celebrate your first anniversary and he’s just scared of not being able to make you live a night full of passion, he’s getting a bit old after all.

Some of the girlfriends were trying to give him lots of advice, “don’t watch porn, don’t masturbate, don’t be overly sexual because you might not be able to get it up”, Soap’s girlfriend casually mentions just taking some aphrodisiacs and calling it a night (better if taken some hours before the act, so sexual tension can be built up). Soap ends up telling König how it actually works and how his girlfriend never had a complaint while they used them, just make sure not to exaggerate with the dose/the amount of times you use it.

Husband!König returning home to you, finding your precious self asleep on the couch as his heart starts pounding and blood rushing, he just loves you so much, he will not risk anything to ruin the day of your anniversary. He brings you to your shared bed and gently tucks you in, kissing your temple as he gets out the room, closing the door slowly so he doesn’t wake you up.

Husband!König that spends the night on the computer and researches the topic of aphrodisiacs, writing down every pro and con he finds. He goes thru a list of the safest ones to buy and chooses the absolute best one, paying a good amount of money for it, but it’s all for his sweet lady upstairs, he would pay millions just to make sure she’s safe.

Husband!König that receives his package and runs to hide it asap, so you don’t see or suspect anything. Your anniversary it’s in a week, he can’t risk to ruin the whole surprise. The bottle it’s actually small, or maybe his hands are too big (umm.. DUH?), but he reads the instructions very well, aside from trying to remember what the website he bought this thing from said. A maximum of 2 drops mixed with anything, or just plopped in the mouth and swallowed, if taken more, there was not really any risk, the state of the aphrodisiac would just last longer, but don’t go over 5 drops, it’ll be painful to deal with the effects for DAYS!

Husband!König is getting ready for your dinner, being finally the day of your anniversary, and as you’re still stuck on your make up, he prepares two glasses of champagne for you two to drink before going. Of course he has a reason to, he squeezes, well he tries to, some drops of the aphrodisiac. He’s careful to remember not to go above 5 drops, and decides to be precautious, he’s squeezing in 2 for you, you’re a young lady, your stamina still pretty high, while he gives himself double, 4 drops hoping he didn’t fuck up, still, he’ll think later about consequences. He brings the glasses upstairs to you, and you both drink, you thank him and notice how he is not able to keep his hands off you already. You have to drag him outside the house, or you’re risking your dress ripped off and your makeup destroyed, but it’s still too early for that!!

Husband!König that’s being tasted for the whole duration of the dinner, you caress his hands, your foot seductively touching his leg, running up and down his calf, your eyes focusing on his face and never breaking eye contact, your lips, your voice, everything about you is so sexy and seductive, and he can’t wait to just bring you home and give you a proper fuck, one you’ll never forget, and not because it’s your first anniversary together, but because he really plans to fuck you good, worship you but still get you all dirty and messed up for him. He’s a man of thought, he bought condoms, he has lube, even bought one that tastes like strawberry, he’ll pour it on your pussy and enjoy himself between your legs for a good amount of time. He has cuffs, ropes, toys that you would already regularly use, but tonight he wants to push you to the limits, he’ll probably stick his cock inside your pussy while he fucks your ass with a dildo, he’ll make sure to torture your clit with a vibrator while he fucks your ass, and play with your tits, maybe even sticking his cock between them too! Night’s young and he has a lot of plans, he can tell that his magic drops are working on you also, not just on him, because the moment you both leave the restaurant you’re leeched onto him, grabbing, touching, tracing his body and hungrily kissing his lips when he allows you to. He’s a taste, he’s not lowering himself on purpose just to hear you beg and whine about wanting his lips.

Husband!König who stands on his title as a silly man, because he might be actually good with technology, but why would he not delete the chrome history on a computer he knew very well you were using too. Maybe it was a slip, maybe he really didn’t think that his searches would pop up on the search bar the moment you typed an ‘A’ onto the keyboard, eager to look for ‘Austrian foods’ to make for him, just to have ‘Aphrodisiacs for couples, pros and cons’ pop up as a recent search. Needless to say, you left it be, your silly husband was onto something and you were really exited to see how it would all play out. You knew the moment he brought you the glass of champagne, you knew what he had put inside, and you still drank all of it. Careful not to spill a drop. The night was long ahead, you knew, but were more than happy about it. Feeling your panties already sticking to your folds while in the car was an indicator that the aphrodisiac was indeed in your champagne, and it was working its magic already! Of course he wanted you to suffer a bit by giving it to you before dinner, but he mostly wanted to edge himself, force himself to have you all wet and ready for him the whole time you were at the restaurant, having to wait till back home to have you in every place and position he wanted.

[no1frogfan]

In the wee small hours of the morning

Tsukishima Kei x gn reader

Word count: ~1k

Tags & warnings: fluff, a little angst but it's just soft pining Tsukki

Note: Idk it’s cold in the mornings now and that makes me think about him too much. Trying out a new header situation too, I guess?

“Tsukki?”

A confused rasp stills him as he’s pacing through the living room, down the hall, and back up again. Outlined by the flickering tv screen, he sees a nest of hair poke up over the back of the couch.

“Y’ok?”

The gravelly timbre of your exhaustion weighs down each syllable, the edges of each word melding into one another over the tinny sound of some cooking show rerun.

After weeks together, the two of you have finally grown accustomed to sharing space. The living room is evidence of that — his half-built lego set, your cups (yes, multiple cups) of water, his clean jerseys, both your books, they all lay strewn across its surfaces. Kei’s finally stopped cloistering himself in his room, and you, you’ve moved past the pretense, no longer tip-toeing around him or bothering to look “presentable” around the house (not that he ever cared).

Actually, he likes you better like this — mussed hair, ratty house clothes, unguarded, at ease. It’s a secret little sliver of you that nobody else gets to see and he wants to hold it tight against his chest.

Instead of answering you, Tsukishima rubs his bleary eyes.

He’s been drifting through the apartment a lot these days, mostly in the early hours. Restless. Cold.

His toes are freezing and the tips of his fingers are icy as he curls them into his palms. You keep the apartment too chilly for him, but he never touches the thermostat. Not when you always look so inviting, all cozy and bundled in an oversized blanket. Yes, inviting. Even now, when you’re clearly pissed that you’re still awake, and so worn out that your face is crumpled into a tight grimace.

Three days ago, he admitted to himself that he’s hurtled past the line of friendship with you.

If he’s honest, he passed it a long time ago, and living with you has only forced him to come to terms with that fact. He’s sprinted far beyond a passing crush, barreling straight into whatever this is. Whatever it is that has you swimming across the inside of his eyelids whenever he closes his eyes. Whatever it is that compels him to pace the length of your apartment at night, slowing his steps when he nears your door, lifting his hand to the doorknob before hastening away, only to spin around the next minute and do it all over again.

It’s not cowardice. It’s not. It’s just…

Tsukishima stares at your huddled form. There’s a hint of impatience in the tilt of your chin, but mostly, you look concerned. Beneath your joking barbs and prickly exterior, you’ve always been concerned about him. That’s why he’s even here, trying not to inconvenience you further while his landlord fixes the leak in his apartment. It was supposed to take a few days, then a week, but now it’s been almost a month with no news, and he thinks he should just find a new place to live. But even when he’s snippy and seething about the whole thing, you’ve been gentle with him, letting him stay in your office-slash-guest room without paying a cent of rent (though he’s tried to insist on it many times), and bringing home treats to share after work (“They were having a sale!”).

It wouldn’t be right to force his feelings on you when you’ve been nothing but generous.

(What he can’t admit is that he doesn’t want this to end, for you to shut the door on whatever this is, once and for all.)

Plus, he’s seen you with Tadashi and Yachi and even Kyoutani, and you’re like that with all your friends. It’s not like you’re sweet on him. You’re just sweet. But he’s not sure how much longer he can stand to be stuck in limbo, unable to tell you and unable to not tell you.

The heat finally kicks on and Kei’s reminded that he’s cold. Freezing, actually, and haggard from lack of sleep. But he also puts on a bit of a show, rubbing his arms and shivering theatrically (why, he’s not sure).

“You’re cold,” you state dumbly, after staring at him for too long. “Do you want…?”

There’s less hesitation in your voice than he expects as you sit up a little to lift the corner of the blanket.

Maybe exhaustion was the final push he needed. He rushes over — before you change your mind (before he changes his) — and slips under the blanket.

Stiffening, you utter a bewildered noise.

Ah, shit.

Shit. Maybe not. Did he- You were offering the blanket to him, not telling him to get in with you. Obviously. Obviously. Fuck. Should he double down? Should he back off? Should he-

You stir again, and the weight of your head drops heavy onto his shoulder. (Is this…?) Tsukishima hardly dares to breathe as you pull him close and cradle your hands against his chest. He’s lightheaded, giddy as he tucks in the edges of the blanket, making sure to completely cover you both. He’s careful with his ice-cold hands, too, avoiding your bare skin as he wraps his arms around you.

Your exhales fan hot against the crook of his neck, and slowly, slowly, they deepen.

Eventually, drowsiness overcomes him too. After the frantic pattering of his heart has subsided, and after the bright red flush on his cheeks has faded. After the feathery wisps of dawn unfurl from behind the curtains, he cracks his heavy eyelids open one last time to look down at you, nestled tightly against him. Your face is slack, your lips gently parted, chest rising and falling in time with his.

Kei knows that tomorrow, when you’ve both had a good night’s sleep, you’ll have to talk about this.

He tightens his hold.

Tomorrow, whatever this is, you’ll cross that bridge together.

[xenon-demon]

only one (1) coherent thought in my skull right now and it’s domestic steddie with Steve washing Eddie’s hair after he’s discharged from hospital post-Vecna.

I’m imagining Eddie’s being discharged to Steve’s house, because Steve is but a simple man with a saviour complex (and also a crush on Eddie) so he’s letting Wayne and Eddie stay with him. Partly so they have somewhere to be while the government sorts out some new housing for them, but mostly because Eddie needs support for these first few weeks out of hospital and Wayne is away at work a lot. Having Steve around as well means Eddie won’t end up in a situation where he needs a hand but is stuck home alone for hours.

Eddie’s recovered enough for discharge but still requires a lot of physical therapy, and one of the things he still can’t do is raise his arms above his head. He can’t wash his hair pretty much at all, and while the nurses washed it for him in hospital, they didn’t do it frequently enough for Eddie’s standards. His hair has been driving him insane, as the limp, greasy feeling against his face, neck and scalp makes him want to claw his skin off. When he’s told how long it’s expected to take before his arms have full range of motion again, he makes a joke-that’s-not-really-a-joke about going back to his buzzcut days just to avoid dealing with the feeling.

Steve is horrified at the suggestion, and immediately offers to wash Eddie’s hair for him. He also divulges that part of the reason he styled his hair the way he did in high school was because he played a lot of sports, and couldn’t stand the feeling of sweaty hair against his neck and face. Sure, he genuinely did want his hair to look good, but styling it up so it was out of his face was an added bonus.

Eddie’s hair is driving him so crazy that he says yes, especially once he realises Steve might actually get where he’s coming from.

Cue an emotionally tense shower, where both Steve and Eddie are stripped down to their boxers because they don’t want to this fully clothed but they sure as fuck don’t want to do it naked, either. (Spoiler alert, they’d both actually love to have a naked shower together, they’re just both too nervous to bring that up at this stage!)

But then Eddie slips while in the shower, still unsteady on his feet and learning to adjust to his bad leg, so Steve makes an executive decision to switch over to the bath. After a bit of manoeuvring they find a comfortable position to do this; Eddie sitting in front of Steve in the bath, Steve’s legs stretched out either side of him. Between the physical intimacy of having your hair washed by someone else, and the way they don’t have to look at each other’s faces as they do this, they end up talking. They get a lot more personal than they were able to in hospital or during Spring Break, and it’s such a nice experience that they’ll each happily put up with the sensory hell of waterlogged boxers.

Eventually - after Eddie and Wayne have moved into their new place, but Eddie and Steve are over at each other’s houses often enough that they might as well still be living together - Eddie can move his arms enough to wash his hair on his own. He’s gotten more used to his bad leg and can stand long enough to even shower if he wants to. They go about three weeks with Eddie washing his own hair, both of them desperately missing this little routine they’d built but not wanting to admit it. One day, however, Eddie feels so lonely and so tired from physical therapy that day that he asks Steve to wash his hair for him. Steve accepts in a heartbeat, almost before Eddie’s even had time to say the words.

It feels different that time. The energy between them is charged, everything feeling more intimate somehow. It’s so palpable a difference that after Steve runs the conditioner through Eddie’s hair to let it sit for a few minutes, Eddie turns around in the bath to face Steve. He takes a breath, trying to steel his nerves, and asks: can I kiss you?

Steve doesn’t answer him; he thinks the way he leans in and slots his lips in between Eddie’s is answer enough.

[sigmaelxgr]

Hey there

been a while!

As some of you may know already, I left ESO in november. Its been three years now that its been harming me more than bringing me joy. I stayed mainly bc I felt the passion and need to share stories w other people. Living them in liveRP is still today the very core of my love for roleplaying. Drawing used to help me fix ideas but never got as satisfying as creating whole plots w mates.

For around three years, I noticed a switch in the global behavior and relation some people had with RP. It grew an evidence year after year that what I seeked through RP was about to rarify, and it did. Ive been remaining kind of a ref for the community I used to admin back then, but ended slowly left unsatisfied. My friends and my own practices were beginning to be considered elitism, for we loved to share our thinking process. What we thought was the very base of RP became percieved as disposable, useless, a pain in the ass, even when answering lore questions directly adressed to me. I got hurt and stayed here way too long only because I used to trust we had to remain visible, that our practice was as valuable as any other, that if we tolerate other kinds of RP we shall be tolerated either. It is not what happened.

-> Many other subjects should be in this category, but ill sum up with; i have an exhausting feeling of giving away energy for it to be met with indifference, hostility and sometimes atrocities. If you have been a moderator of a place with more than 400 people in it, you know. If you have been a girl, or female, or a she in a community, you know. Ive been dealing with atrocious behaviors I feared nobody if me would take seriously, and when I left administrating, what I feared became true. I got forced to come back and faced even more problematic behaviors bc victims were left alone and distrusted by the actual moderators. It drained me, i felt like I screamed to the void for 4 years.

Through those years, Ive been exploring more, deeper and deepest pve. I loved it and got a pretty decent level at it. To be fair, im quite proud and sure of myself about it, but since High Isles and the release of the desastrous update that came with it, lots of friends lost trust in the game direction. I remained, bc i loved vDSR, but grew evidently bored as oakensoul got released and became the meta (yes, even in vRG HM), then came the arcanist, and I couldnt anymore. I love this game so so much but pve became unilateraly the same. Hybridation destroyed theorycrafting, which is my primary niche of enjoyment about pve. The revendicated accessibility in fact destroyed skill ceiling, making arcanist the go-to class so so more prevalent in every situation with no risk high reward, I got pressured to play it to the point I disgusted myself of it... AND THEYRE EVERYWHERE. I grew bitter, waited for each update that could counterbalance the arcanist undisputable domination, and got my necromancer’s blastbones removed... necromancer being my main and favorite class. Trust got crushed over once again.

Then, the price. The crates. Chapters, DLCs. The housing... God I love the places I built to RP in. I fcking wept at the idea of them disappearing one day, so much memories and love are stored in it. But fuck how its expensive as hell, predatory as hell. I felt trapped here by melancholia and nostalgia on a platform that lurks for my money.

Well yeah. With a sour heart, I left. With sour heart I evoke it. I spended bright hours here and had so much fun, but recent years were disappointments after disappointments. I feel sorrow, because this precious character of mine is such a pillar for me... But you cant remain somewhere that harms you, and I stopped relating to the newest people in my own community.

Its been great and I hope someday we’ll gladly meet again and pve again, I hope the game goes saner, I hope the love for art and lore comes back in the community I adored. I had so much in store that will remain stucked in my head until played, i cant get satisfied with barely drawing and writing. I just hope it goes better.

[xtrafluffyteddy]

Everdoor

spiritfarer!Johnny mactavish x spirit!Reader x spirit!Simon Riley

I’ve been playing spiritfarer and I got inspired, this is mostly from Johnnys pov, kinda bittersweet ending?

Being the new spiritfarer wasn’t an easy task but when Johnny was choosen for it he knew he could handle the weight and burden of having to cross over the many spirits still stuck in the ethereal plane “Johnny” the previous spiritfarer Price grumbles lowly, Soap was quick to look up at the large creature like man “yes sir?” He replied, “make me proud” was all Price said as he crossed over into the Everdoor.

“Okay Riley” johnny huffed as he looked down at the German Shepard by his side wagging its tail in happiness “let’s go help some spirits hm?” He smiled as Riley barked in reply reaching his large hand down to scratch behind the dogs ears before turning to his controls setting his navigation to some random island on the map.

That’s where he met the first spirit who would board his ship, standing before him was a very large cloaked figure at the end of the pier staring out into the vast nothingness “hello?” He called out causing the spirit to quickly snap towards him “who are you, how’d you get here, how’d you find me” the spirit shot off rapid questions already on guard “I’m Johnny but you can call me Soap I’m the newest spiritfarer” he reassured putting his hands up to show he’s harmless “my boat took me here I’m guessing to bring you aboard” the cloaked figure held an aura of distrust as it reluctantly followed Johnny to his ship.

Once the cloaked figure set foot on his ship it’s cloak immediately vanished leaving a very broad and tall man with a skull mask staring back at him “I’m Ghost” the spirit grunted as he looked at his new surroundings before digging around his pocket to give Johnny his obal

Days and weeks passed as Johnny upgraded his ship, helped other spirits cross over while Ghost remained never growing close to any of the other spirits, always sticking to himself only really talking to Johnny or playing with Riley. “Phew another spirit in the Everdoor I’m on a roll aren’t I” he grinned at Ghost who was sat in his own house that Johnny had built for him “you remind me of my old team” Ghost mumbles as he looks lost in thought “always ontop of things, always together” that’s all Ghost said for the rest of the day deciding that he just wanted to be alone worrying Johnny just a bit.

He couldn’t stay worried for long as he docked at a new island filled with cherry blossom trees and strawberry bushes which he quickly harvested as he made his way up towards the lone cabin at the very top of the hill. “Hello?” He called out to the cloaked figure sitting at the lone bench over looking the sea “hello?” He called out again as he made his way towards them “hello Spiritfarer” you say still not turning towards him “I’m guessing you’ve come to take me away from my home” you inquire turning slightly to look at the large man “only if your comfortable with that” he reassures “well I mean it’s time isn’t it I can’t cling to the past forever” with that he watches as you rise up take one last look at your home and follow him to the ship once onboard your cloak melts away revealing your form standing before the only other spirit on the ship and Johnny “it’s been so long since I’ve been around others” you snicker

The three of you were thick as thieves growing closer and closer as the days turned to weeks then months everything was well sure you’d had a few times where Johnny was worried because you were struggling against an unseen foe, or when ghost would have what he could only guess were ptsd flashbacks that caused him to be catatonic for days, the good times outweighed the bad in his eyes as long as you both remained happy then he would keep trying to make you both better.

“Johnny” Ghost said one day after Johnny had fed him his favorite food of beans and toast “I think it’s time Johnny” Soap felt his heart drop into his stomach he knew this day was coming but he would never be ready for it “I’m ready to go Johnny” ghost said as he placed a calloused hand on Johnnys warm cheek “you know what to do” Johnny nodded a sadness burying itself in his heart as he set his navigation to take him to the Everdoor

“I’m gonna miss you Simon” Johnny watched as you said your goodbyes to your beloved Ghost hugging him tightly and pressing a soft kiss to his cheeks then his lips only letting go of his hands as Ghost boarded the small boat that would take him to his final resting place “ready” Johnny questioned his voice thick with emotion “ready” Ghost reassured as he gently placed a hand on Johnnys knee giving him a smile behind his skull mask.

“I’m grateful for everything in my life” Ghostst began as Johnny continued to row “grateful for my team, for the tragedies, for meeting you and them” Ghost smiled as he took off his mask wanted to feel the breeze on his face one last time “I’ve done bad things, and at one point I was sure I was a villain but when you look at me it makes me want to be a better person” Johnny sniffs but keeps a strong composure “I've never deserved you anyway... But I've loved you, and that won't stop even if I'm not around anymore. The ones who really love you never really leave you, you know” Ghost reassured as they stop in front of the large door Johnny quickly rushing to pull ghost into a tight hug inhaling his strong scent “I love you Simon” Johnny murmured as Ghost rose above him disappearing in a burst of light

It was lonely without Ghost on the ship but things had to keep moving, Johnny continued helping spirits cross over while you remained unmoving wanting to stay by Johnnys side for as long as you can teaching him lessons on how to open up to people, to love, to grieve properly. “Even when I leave you Johnny I’ll wait for you on the other side so you don’t have to cross alone” you smiled as he pressed a soft kiss to his lips before disappearing into your house.

The day johnny had been dreading had come you were ready to leave you had told him so as you were helping him into his orchards “I think I’m ready Johnny” you say as you put the fallen apples into a basket “I’m done fighting the inevitable I’ve had a wonderful experience seeing the world with you but it’s time for me to go” you gently cup Johnnys cheek and all he can do is focus on remembering your touch “you know what to do”.

Johnny couldn’t fight the few tears rolling down his cheeks as he helped you into the small boat watching as you sat across from him brilliant smile never leaving your face “you know I used it be such a logical thinker, everything had its place, everything was black and white, then when I got sick I started changing started learning a new way of living and I always wanted to pass that down to someone and I’m grateful it was you” you coo as you reach out to caress Johnnys cheek “The only lesson I have left is to show you what we're made of. Of ephemeral starlight. We're but a few particles of thought on the vast stream of consciousness” you sigh happily as you lean forward pulling Johnny into a soft kiss wrapping him up in your arms “I love you Johnny and I’ll be waiting” with that he watched as you burst into a ball of light taking your place amongst the stars next to his beloved Ghost.

Years passed Johnny lost track of how many souls he’d helped pass on but now his time was up it was his turn to crossover and he knew that you and Ghost would be waiting for him with open arms and happy smiles.

[valerico]

10, 11, 19, for anyone! =:D

I'm going to mix this up and do this for a couple of mine and kinda shotgun blast these. [A.N. I have wrote this over the course of the past 4 days. There are spelling errors. I do not care anymore. There are things I forgot to mention, that will be explained at some other time. I am so tired.]

10. What is their main character arc in the story? Where do they start and how do they develop? Do they get a happy ending or is their story a tragic one? (apartment!Ludvwk)

I'm doing apartment world here (still need to come up with a better name for that place tbhhh) because campaign character's fates are in flux, anyway. I straight up had to rewrite this a few times now because I can't actually figure out how to summarize his whole deal. His arc is about living with being a clone of someone else who was raised as the original. His arc is about learning how to love other people for real and understand he can also be loved by them. His arc is about the healthcare system and how it works against people with untypical bodies. His arc is about becoming the warden of the panopticon and realizing all the cameras were pointed on him anyway. His arc is about how intense societal racism has irreparably shaped his mental health, and how he can express himself, and his choice between being honest with himself or being another smiling face. His arc is about getting his brother to stop shouting at people while he plays leauge and trying to get him to stop stealing his identity. Does he get a happy ending? Kinda? He does break out of the Panopticon which is a win, but he also does go through a very literal fall of Icarus, like straight up fake wings (army stealth jetpack wings) flying into the skies to try and spy and reach the realms of the "gods" (CEO Information Satellite Space Station), whole deal. His brother Ludovig does stop shouting at people over video games but does not stop playing leauge (net loss).

11. Is there any existing character from other media that your character resembles? Was the resemblance intentional or was it a coincidence? (Ludvwk and Novac)

A big chunk of my characters start from a sort of "seed" idea, usually after watching something, and then divert pretty drastically during development. Ludvwk was actually derived from watching Fight Club, originally he was a "Narrator-esque" character, someone who was stuck in a dead-end job working for a company that hated him, who met this person who was confident and charismatic and lethal who he began to mold himself in the shape of. Over-time and one campaign with him later the ideas became those of clones and horrors and things well outside that original idea but he started as this "average every-man".

Novac was actually the biggest example of this, he was directly based off Dale Cooper from Twin Peaks and later very literally in his transfiguration to being a human, but he ended up becoming this very inverted concept to him in development. This weird kid who basically grew up with "the shining", who's mom died in a house fire, who moved to Chicago and basically became this "no-nonsense hard-boiled private-eye interrogator" who kinda had his friends bring him back to "Oh this fucking suuucks actually i'm going to start dreamwalking again and not beating the shit out of goons" and then didn't stop beating the shit out of goons but now he also dreamwalks into their minds beforehand.

19. What is your general favourite thing about the character? What is your least favourite?

oh god uhhh i've been working on this for a few days now (and also changed this section this is day 4) and i'm going to just list out a bunch of my characters here:

Ludvwk: I like that he is short, I don't have many short character's and a 3'6" moth guy is really good to write when the world is still built for 5'-6' tall humans. There are a lot of things to not like about Ludvwk but I like that he sucks a bit. I don't like that he can't get nosebleeds to show his mental strain so I have to just make him really nauseous all the time and there's only so many ways to write "he got really dizzy and then frew up"

Novac: I like being able to have an alternate to Ludvwk's brand of dreamwalking and show the better side of the coin, and I like having a character that's just as ruined as Ludvwk but in such a way that he seems perfectly normal at first glance. I haaate having to write someone who talks like Jackson Alberta PHD, who just sounds like some dude who went to an Ivy League college and doesn't want you to forget it.

Sony: I know he's an ex-wrestler character who's now like a normal screenwriter for TV, which is interesting enough, but I do think his most favorite thing is the weird ass psycho(non)sexual mind game relationship he has with Wayland and I love writing it, i genuinely think if it was romantic or sexual in any way it would make whatever they have 10x weaker and whatever they do have is legit better than sex. I could go off about that whole thing but like that's a whole other post. Worst part is writing the way that catfish breathe and having to remember they don't have scales.

Wayland: I love being able to write a guy who's day job is as a spy, but like magical girl style "Alter Ego" style. Having him watch the news and have to act all surprised to Sony when some person-of-the-week gets their comeuppance, while Sony immediately reads him to filth while going like, "Oh yeaaah, of course, now tell me where you got these gunshot wounds you definitely couldn't go to the ER to get patched up? Some guy was messing around on the job? Of course, of course, just strange he was concealed carrying a rifle at work." While Wayland sucks in a harsher breath of air and his ears heating at the tips from Sony using just a bit more pressure on that stuffing gauze. I hate that I forget he's blonde so much. Straight up it's so annoying i keep writing shit like "he ran his fingers through his jet hair" and go "oh wait that's not right" and then have to think up the 17th new synonym for "golden".

Joules: I like that he is a masochist, I hate that I have only been able to write him horny because 9 times out of 10 he is actively getting hurt for plot reasons. He's that one post about that person's torturer getting pissed because they keep moaning. I have been trying to find a time where he is not horny and then his ass will snuff out his bedside candle with his fingers just to feel something. I do think he might just be hypersexual but I need to do further analysis to figure that out. I know he's an aro bisexual though.

Hollister: Holly is a really cool character and one of my favorites for how little I write about him. He is an absolute gem and a surgeon, he's basically my Rory if Rory got really into experimenting on himself after the whole plastic soldier thing and going back to normal. I love being able to have him around because he is my lightning rod for weird shit. Something happens? Holly's at the center. I think the thing I hate about him is that he's got such shit politics I have to make an effort to remember he's an ancap in a world that's already had a second worker's revolt, like I think I have an excerpt somewhere of him having a convo with Damien and trying to sell him on "No wait hear me out here's why vets shouldn't get comp" to the vet.

Torrance: Torrance is an architect and I get to talk about my very based and very correct thoughts about architecture through him, but also he has chronic memory issues so having to keep track about what he knows and doesn't is so hard.

Celenos: Celenos allowed me to sort of write a love letter to my HAM radio club full of vets who realized too late that the cause they were fighting for was fucked up from the very roots of this country. He was scammed and propagandized to his entire life and when he broke out of it he brought to light the crimes his troop specifically was doing and lying to him about and he was dishonorably discharged for it. I like that I get to write a critique of another world's military complex from the POV of someone who went through that shit first-hand. I hate how much of a savior complex he has sometimes because his first solution to any problem is "Can I bleed about this to fix it" and he's not even horny about it like Joules he just doesn't know how to fix things any other way :-\. And he's right. Most of the time if he bleeds about it he can fix it. That's why he's an adventurer.

Opus: Opus sucks on purpose and was made by me to spite me I hate them. I like when they lose money because of the groups.

[princess-glassred]

Dude a Reddie Hook au would be so fucking good. I know a Peter Pan au already exists but picture this: Many years ago a baby so terrified of his smothering anxious mother it rolls away to never land and becomes Peter pan.

Years later, thst baby is now a worried, constantly terrified 40 year old Eddie Kaspbrak.

He's just doing his normal risk analyst job, freaking out over statistics, and being absolutely stressed over his marriage with Myra.

On the night of his 40th birthday he gets a special visitor and discovers he's actually THE peter pan from the famous stories, having grown up to be constantly worried about everythung and terrified for the future due to living in the real world and finally growing older.

Richie is his Tink, a spitfire little fairy who's always had a thing for Eddie and is the one to finally bring him back. He's charming, reckless, silly, incredibly jealous when it comes to Eddie, and most curious of all, has also aged, but never really matured.

When Eddie left Neverland and grew older, Richie loved him so much he wanted to grow along side him, so he began to age himself as opposed to other fairies who are immortal and young forver, however Richie never understood all that "growing up" entails. His mind is still that silly child in a big kids body.

When they first meet again after 30 something odd years, Richie gets quite a kick out of scaring the shit out of Eddie, he cracks jokes about him being a delusion brought on by alcohol or prescription meds, He tells him he's the ghost of a person he killed in a drunk driving accident, and when Eddie naturally says "i don't believe in fairies" Richie tells him everytime some one says they don't believe in fairies a fairy dies... immediately followed by him doing an elaborate death scene.

Once over the intial terror of it all, they start to do the usual hook shit like fight the famed Bowers pirates, go on an adventure to conquer the great evil Pennywise, hang out in their underground club house with the rest of their old friends, and just act like silly kids, but underneath all of that is the horrible knowledge that Eddie has grown up and Richie hasn't, and neither one will ever truly understand each other now.

Myra's basically his Wendy, while she's not perfect, heck, Eddie's not even attracted to her, they still care about each other and have stuck together through the trials and tribulations of adulthood. Just as Richie and Eddie were a team once, Myra and Eddie are now, just a different kind of team. A realistic team. He cares for her like the mother he never had, and Myra cares for him like a protective brother.

Even bringing Eddie back to never land will never change the fact that at the end of the day... he's too old for fairytales now.

Eddie has a choice though, abandon the cushy life he's built for himself to live in a diluted fantasy world with his soul mate, or accept all the pain that comes with reality, like marrying some one for convenience instead of true love, if it means he can feel real and truly alive.

I think possibly the best outcome here would be for Eddie to decide he wants to still grow up and live with reality, but he realizes being with Myra will never truly make either of them happy, so they decide to have a very supportive mutual divorce.

Richie, having being changed by Eddie coming back , decides to FINALLY mature and decides to leave never land too.

Eddie has no clue about this though until a really reckless and really familiar client comes into his work, claming he has some "risks that need analyzing".

[skepticalfrogcat]

Here you all go, the happy part 3 you all were promised.

And I know that for the last part it was just a suggestion to read the previous part, but for this one I'm going to go ahead and say you have to have read the previous part in this series in order for major scenes in this fic to make any sense to you. You have been warned!

(Also I was told that I should tag @choicesficwriterscreations ! Thank you to @lovehugsandcandy for telling me this!)

Relationship: Finch Parnassus (MC) x Aerin Valleros

Warnings: Minor angst. With a happy ending I promise! And as I said in a post I made a while back, it's mostly very soft emotional stuff, nothing too serious.

Word Count: 3,007

Summary: Finch and Aerin take a trip to Riverbend.

Since the end of the battle with the Ash Empress, and the decision to keep the portals open, Finch had been busier than ever. It seemed as though everyone was competing to get him to pay attention to their personal gripes and grievances, and he only had the time and energy for so many of them. Most of the time he ended up directing them to someone who could actually help, because his reputation often gave people the false idea that he had endless talents, which simply wasn't true. Often, there was no way he could properly accomplish the tasks they gave to him.

Luckily, he'd been spending most of his time with the goblins in the Whimsywood, which was far enough away from the bustling environment of Whitetower for his liking. Evidently, and a bit to his surprise, he had a much higher tolerance for handling people's requests when he was in the middle of the woods. Of course, that wasn't the only part of living in the Whimsywood that he was especially fond of.

He'd moved into one of the houses that had already been built into the trees. It was a more permanent residence, more than his room in the castle had been at least, and he was content with it. Truthfully, he would've been happy to start living anywhere, given that he'd be living with Aerin. It had been proven to him time and time again that he could find happiness anywhere they could be together.

After they'd settled in, they actually hadn't had time to do much other than help rebuild. There wasn't much destruction, and Finch was grateful every day that he'd made the right choices in order to keep it that way. Most of what he'd been doing was diplomacy, sorting out conflicts between people passing between realms. It did settle down after a while, though. The hectic nature of his environment persisted for a few weeks at the most, and after that it was over. Everything became sort of… normal. He hadn't experienced that in kind of a long time, longer than he'd realized. He wanted to take advantage of it while he could, because he knew that eventually something would arrive to stir things up again.

And so, Finch and Aerin had decided to take a trip. Not a big or extravagant one, but a well-needed one nonetheless. It was kind of like a little vacation. Finch had realized that Aerin had never actually been to Riverbend, which he knew needed to be rectified. The destination was agreed upon very quickly, partially because it would provide the relatively stress-free break that they both needed, but Finch knew it was also because Aerin had been able to tell how important it was to him.

The trip from the freshly revived Whimsywood all the way to Riverbend had been a long one. Finch loved visiting home, he did, he simply wished that his Realmwalking abilities provided some method of faster travel. He was sure they might, to someone older or more experienced, but for the time being he was stuck traveling mainly on foot. Besides, he wasn't entirely confident that he'd be able to bring anyone else with him that way anyway, which happened to be fairly necessary for this trip.

Given how tiring it had been to make it to the town, all they'd really been able to do on their first day there was sleep. Kade was still working in Whitetower, but the place they'd lived in together was still available to them whenever they wanted it. That was one upside to having grown up in such a small village: it was almost like everyone was family. Even if he weren't the Savior of the Realm - which would never stop being strange to hear - he was sure he and Kade would still have their room above the local tavern, because that was how things worked in Riverbend. People always did favors for each other.

The second day in Riverbend, though, they were actually able to explore a bit. They went to the river, the town's namesake, where Aerin had been able to do some drawing while Finch chatted away beside him. After that, they'd gone to a couple of Finch's personal favorite places, like a bakery he and Kade had been going to since they were kids, and a really old archery range someone had set up in the woods where Finch had practiced with a rudimentary bow in his younger teen years.

By the time evening was rolling around, they'd made their way back to the tavern. Their plan had originally been to retire back upstairs, but the tavern was much more populated by then, and naturally there were demands for the two of them to stay for a round.

“Why don't you tell us something, Finch?” One patron suggested, gesturing with the pint in his hand as he spoke.

“Ah, you all know I'm no good at it,” Finch waved him off. “Just wait for Kade to come back around, I'm sure he'll have something great for you when he does.”

“Come on, just one new story, and then we'll leave you be,” a girl standing nearby attempted to barter. “Why don't you tell us about… a beast you fought?” she suggested.

“I'm sure Kade's told you all about those a million times over, because I'd bet all of you that you've done this exact thing to him before.”

“We don't have to bug him, he just does it!” Someone called out from the back of the bar. Everyone laughed, and it did make Finch wish his brother were here, but he knew they'd be back in Riverbend together eventually.

Finch leaned over to speak to Aerin, lowering his voice so only he could hear. “What do you think? Should I throw them a bone?”

“Personally, I'd really like to hear which one of your escapades you think is entertaining enough to please a room full of mildly drunk people,” Aerin muttered back. “Especially with the way you tell stories.”

Finch laughed, bumping his shoulder against Aerin's. “Don't pretend you don't listen to them every time.”

“Go ahead then.” Aerin gestured to the rest of the room with a nod of his head. “Prove me wrong.”

Aerin had always been quite good at getting Finch to do practically anything. Finch left his spot leaning against the wall and went to take up an empty stool along the bar, which was more central to the room. Then he started telling the story. He'd chosen to tell them about the time he and Mal had met a mermaid near the Shimmering Isles, because he knew that one had a good enough balance of action and glamor to hold just about everyone's attention, no matter what sort of story they favored.

Truthfully, he was a rather terrible storyteller. Kade could tell a story as if it were happening in real time, always getting the details just right with perfect timing and impeccable vocabulary. Meanwhile, Finch frequently had to backtrack to include details he'd forgotten to mention, and he often forgot what he had and hadn't already said. He was lucky he at least had charisma. Even still, every time he'd glance over at Aerin, he'd be looking back, intently listening as he always did.

When he finished the story, a few people did request another, but that time Finch was adamant about his refusal. It was already further into the night than he'd been planning on staying out. He did receive a few playful jabs about the fact that he was turning in early, but he'd been expecting them. Most of the patrons of the tavern had a slightly warped view of what ‘early’ meant anyway.

So he and Aerin went upstairs, back to the room they were staying in. It wasn't very large, and it was barely furnished. All that was really in the room was a small, tattered rug on the ground, a nightstand with a single lamp on top of it, and the two beds he and Kade had slept in since they were much younger. But, despite the fact that he'd lived in much more lavish places since leaving Riverbend, Finch still thought of this room as home. Aerin didn't seem to mind it either. Finch knew he'd never been suited to the extravagance of the castle.

“Do they ask you to do that a lot?” Aerin asked, already in bed after having gotten ready.

“What, tell stories? No, not usually.” Finch pulled his shirt off over his head and put on the pajama pants he'd brought. “I'd say I'm pretty low on the list, even without Kade here. Honestly I think it's just because you were there.”

“What do you mean?” Aerin moved over on the bed a bit as Finch settled in beside him. It was really only meant for one person, but that didn't matter. Even though they'd never discussed it, Finch had a feeling that Aerin didn't like sleeping alone. Not after all those nights in the cell. “Were they trying to make you seem impressive or something?”

“No, not quite,” Finch laughed. “If anything, they were trying to get me to make a fool of myself in front of you. Kind of like what Mal does to Tyril all the time. Luckily, you love me too much to be embarrassed of me, even if I am a terrible storyteller.” He gave Aerin an exaggerated kiss on the cheek.

Aerin held back a smile and reached over to turn off the lamp, making the only light in the room the moonlight coming in through the window on the wall above the bed. “We've both done stupid things in front of each other enough times that it doesn't matter anymore.”

“It's probably best that we don't keep count.”

Finch closed his eyes as peaceful silence fell over the room. He was lying with his cheek resting on Aerin's shoulder, his forehead pressed lightly against the side of his neck. His hand laid flat on Aerin's chest, and if he focused on it, he could feel the indent about the size of his palm where Aerin's scar was.

He'd only ever seen the Nerada Stone once, but he remembered it vividly. He could still recall the precise details of how it had looked, and the terror it had brought on when he'd seen it. He still didn't know what had caused Aerin to decide to take it out, in the end. Finch couldn't imagine what someone would have to feel to put themselves through that kind of pain. At times he wasn't sure he wanted to know.

“Finch,” he heard Aerin whisper, bringing him out of his thoughts.

“Hm?” he hummed in response. He felt Aerin's hand cover his own.

“You were doing that thing again.”

It wasn't the first time he'd done it. Every so often, when he got really wrapped up in thinking about the stone, he would start gently tracing the outline of the scar with his fingertips. He never knew he was doing it until Aerin inevitably pointed it out to him.

“Sorry. I didn't notice.”

“It's okay. I don't mind it. I just want to remind you that you don't have to worry about what I can tell you're worrying about right now.”

“I know, I know, it's just…” Finch shifted in place, propping himself up slightly with his elbow on the mattress so he could see Aerin's face. He had a habit of wanting to be able to look at Aerin when he started talking about something he was deeply invested in. He did it with everyone, but especially Aerin. “I wish there was something I could've done. I'm sure we could've found some other way, if I had known that was what you were trying to do.”

“You not being there didn't have anything to do with what I did. I didn't even know you were gone. Your friends stopped visiting eventually, and no one else seemed to think I should know. So my point is, even if you had still been around, I probably would've done the same thing.” Aerin lifted his hand to run it slowly through Finch's hair a couple times, and Finch leaned into the touch.

“I guess I just want to know why. That's the one part of it I've never been able to figure out,” Finch admitted. “And you don't have to tell me, if you don't want to, but…”

“Do you think it would help?” Aerin's brow furrowed. “Because I don't want to do anything that would hurt you. And don't say it would help just because you want to know.”

Finch considered it for a moment. “I think that… I'd probably think about it a lot at first. But knowing would definitely make it easier to come to terms with.”

Aerin took a deep breath, and sighed it out. “Okay. The truth is…” He looked away, into the wider room, almost as if he was embarrassed. “I decided to take the stone out after you came to see me. All it took was that one time, and I... I knew it wasn't worth it anymore.”

Finch's eyes grew distant as the memories of that night came back to him. He'd forgotten. So much had happened since then that he'd completely forgotten it. That was a terrible thing to have forgotten, what kind of an idiot forgot about something like that? He remembered it now, of course, but he had no idea how it had ever slipped his mind in the first place.

“Hey.” Aerin tapped gently on Finch's cheek with his knuckle, the way someone might knock on a door if they suspected someone was asleep on the other side. “You're beating yourself up over something right now. Tell me what it is, so I can help. I'm not just letting you sit here and stew in whatever you're thinking about.”

It took Finch another few moments to say anything in response, but Aerin allowed him to work through it for as long as he needed to. “I really shouldn't have done that to you,” he muttered. It wasn't exactly what he'd been thinking about, but it was what those thoughts had led him to. “Not the visit, but the fact that I just left. I got scared and I ran, I didn't even try to talk to you about it. I was a real jerk for that, wasn't I.”

“I… can admit that it's not my favorite thing you've ever done. But I've forgiven you by now, which means you should forgive yourself too, because honestly it was probably the best thing you could've done.” Aerin placed both of his hands on Finch's cheeks. “If you hadn't come to see me, and you hadn't done what you did, we probably wouldn't be here right now.”

“I still think I could've handled things better. I didn't think it through. Any of it. Even just a little more planning would've stopped it from going so poorly.”

“Finch, it didn't go poorly,” Aerin insisted. “Maybe in the moment it did, sure. But seeing you that night, talking to you, the way you kissed me, it all reminded me how much I needed you. Then you left, and I realized that before I could get that life back, I needed to become a better person again. I couldn't go on the way I was if I ever wanted to have something good again. That was why I took out the stone.”

“But it must've hurt you,” Finch shook his head, still catching up with everything Aerin was telling him. “To take it out, I mean.”

“Of course it did. It hurt me to have it, too,” Aerin reminded him. Finch did remember that, from when he'd first seen the stone. “But I was betting on the hope that those last few minutes of pain would pay off with more happiness than I knew what to do with. It was either that, or keep hurting other people for the rest of my life. I didn't know what would happen, but I knew I had to try.”

“And… did it work?” Finch asked, speaking hesitantly.

“Yes,” Aerin nodded, possibly sounding more certain than Finch had ever heard him before. He lifted his head a bit and gently brought Finch down to meet him, pressing a soft kiss to his lips. “I'd say that it did.”

A small smile crossed Finch's face, which almost always happened when Aerin kissed him. “Good.” He settled back into his place on the bed, lying down the way he'd been before. He felt Aerin's arms wrap around him, warm and familiar against his skin.

He was finally satisfied with the knowledge he had. He hadn't wanted to push too hard on the matter of Aerin’s scar and how he'd gotten it, because he knew that at times the idea of it upset both of them. It was a big sore spot that neither of them wanted to get close to. But he'd always known they'd have to talk about it at some point, and if it was going to happen somehow, he believed this was one of the best ways it could've been. The room felt much more peaceful then. His thoughts weren't quite so loud anymore. Well, aside from one of them.

“I love you,” he whispered.

“I love you too,” Aerin replied, as Finch knew he would.

Finch was well aware that there would be more problems for him to fix eventually, whether it was a simple favor for a friendly stranger or a new foe for him to save the world from. It seemed unavoidable at that point. But right now, he was safe at home, in bed next to the best, smartest, most breathtaking person he'd ever known. There wasn't anywhere else he'd rather be. Things were difficult at times, and would be again. But for the moment, all was well in the world.

[aph-mable]

Dp x Demon slayer au; Nightgale arc

Tanjiro, Nezuko, Inosuke, and Zenitsu all collapsed onto their respective beds in the infirmary house. They had just been double checked by the staff to make sure each of them were actually healthy and properly healed up.

It had been an eventual adventure for sure.

Having to dress up in drag for the mission, face off two demon siblings, and Tengen Uzui’s retirement means that the demon slayers are down another Hashira. At the very least there is a bit of a happy ending to it all, the demon siblings finally got a chance to move on and Uzui was still alive.

It's the little things to be thankful for. Even if, technically, it's big.

Though Tanjiro's true mission, gathering up high ranking demon blood to help Nezuko return human, was set back once more. He knows he should be grateful for being alive, yet it feels like obstacles keep getting in the way. Even if they win and survive, Nezuko was still stuck in her own torment.

Falling into an uneasy sleep, Tanjiro wishes something, or someone, could just help him on his mission to cure his sister. _________________________

The trio sat in front of Hashira Kocho, as she looked over their notes of the previous mission.

Glancing over at the three boys, Kocho placed her hands softly on the table. Knowing they worked hard and risked a lot, but missions have to keep getting completed.

"Well, I can tell you all this much, every one of you is healthy and ready to go back into the field." She told them with a smile.

Zenitsu groaned about wanting to rest up just a bit more and maybe hang out with the girls for an afternoon longer. Inosuke yelled in excitement, being ready to hunt more demons and not have to wear ugly clothes anymore. Tanjiro smiled softly, staying silent with his head slightly tilted to the floor.

Observing each, Shinobu Kocho pulled out the information for their next mission.

"And I'm happy to say it's going to be an easy one in comparison to what you have dealt with so far. You’re tasked with finding the Nightgale family and bringing them back to the Butterfly Mansion."

"Um, excuse me Miss Kocho, but who are the Nightgales?" Tanjiro's soft voice echoed in the small room.

"Ah, well where to begin. The Nightgales are one of the oldest demon slayer families. They were, in fact, the ones who figured out what metal could be used to fight against demons, and from there they branched out. Throughout the generations they have been doctors, scientists, slayers, craftsmen, magic users… really everything but cooks. Their entire livelihoods have been built on studying, and slaying, demons." Kocho's lips culled at the last statement as she watched Tanjiro almost jump at her words.

"Study? They actually studied demons? B-but how?! What have they learned? Are they willing to take an apprentice or share what they know?" Tanjiro asked question after question, only quieting down when Inosuke interrupted him with a tackle.

"Will you shut up, Tarongi! you ask too many dumb questions." he growled.

Laughing softly, Shinobu gently pulled on her sword. "Boys, no rough housing in my office."

In an instant both Inosuke and Tanjiro sat properly.

"Good. Now, as for your questions you'll have to ask them in person. The most I know is the latest Dr. Nightgale's have been studying demon blood and physiology, with their only child Jasmine recently finishing up her training to be a demon slayer herself in the last year. The reason you’re heading to meet them is because within that time frame the Nightgales seem to have vanished without a trace. You are to investigate why that is, bring as much information about their research back to the Hashira, and bring with you the Nightgale family as well in case they are in danger."

Tanjiro agreed with newfound determination in his eyes. He was ready to go right this moment and nearly bolted out of the door when Miss Kocho raised her hand to stop him.

"Now, I want you three to know some important information before you head out. The Nightgales are very hospitable to other demon slayers, but the moment they even suspect you're a demon they will not hesitate to attack, capture, study or kill you where you stand. Over the past 13 years they have been more paranoid about demons designing themselves as humans, so tread carefully. especially if you're wearing a mask, flirt, or have a demon with you." She stared at the trio, who couldn't even look her in the eyes.

"Hmp, I'll be giving you a crow to lead where the Nightgale house is… oh, and can I ask a tiny favour?"

“Of course Lady Kocho, what is it?” Zenitsu surprisingly asked.

"Can you get me one of the flowers they've been studying? There have been some rumours that they had found a new type that when matched with Wisteria flowers will amplify the power, and burn away a demon within seconds." She tilted her head playfully.

"A simple task to bring a flower to a fair lady such as yourself Miss Kocho, it would be an honour~" Zenitsu bolted out the door to get ready for the mission. Tanjiro and Inosuke followed, not wanting to be left behind.

__________________________

Tanjiro kept his eyes on his soundings as the crow led the way. To his left Zenitsu hummed to himself as Inosuke ran around looking for something to fight.

So far their journey has been calm, all they had to do was trek though a peaceful forest path, it barely counted as a hike. Nezuko was sound asleep in her box, restoring her energy while the sun was out.

As they continued on the tree's shade became thicker as the path was slowly but surely disappearing, leaving them lost. The crow they had been following seemed to have gone missing, and with the thick underbrush sounding the trio it was nearly impossible for them to find their way.

Untamed Nature caged them, yet strangely there was barely a sound but their footsteps. Not a bird song or the trickle of water, just pure silence. Taking a deep breath Tanjiro decided to keep moving forward, leading further into the unknown wilderness.

Both Tanjiro and Zenitsu were trying to step slowly around roots and lose rocks, but Inosuke got inpatient and didn't want to be stuck going that slow until nightfall, so he took initiative as he shoved past the two boys and ran ahead. With that they gave chase after their boar headed companion.

"Inosuke, slow down! We don't even know if this is the right way!" Tanjiro cried out. Zenitsu was just trying to keep up as he held back the need to cry, everything was going so good, but his friends just had to ruin it.

It wasn't long before Inosuke had run so far ahead he was out of sight, forcing Tanjiro to slow down and smell the air to see which way he went. As he slowed down to sniff the air, Zenitsu, being blinded by tears as he tried to keep up, bumped into the other slayer, causing both of them to fall down a steep slope. Crashing and tumbling down they come face to face with the bottom of the hill, a small valley covered in trees and thorny bushes.

Zenitsu slowly pulled himself up first, his hand pressed against some kind of rope. With lightning speed he moved out of the way just before the trap could pull him into the trees, landing right against Tanjiro’s side, who groaned in pain.

Tanjiro shook his head and got up, making sure Nezuko was okay and her box intact before looking over at a shivering Zenitsu, who stared straight ahead with a terrified expression on his face. Following his gaze, Tanjiro could see traps with rotting meat hanging from various ropes and rusted chains. Magical markings drawn in dulled, red paint covered the slowly degrading building, A vibrant orange sunset illuminating the forest and house before them.

"Yo! Zunkaka, Tabiroj, about time you got here! Hurry up, it's almost night you idiots!" Inosuke shouted as he stomped over. Zenitsu took small nervous steps towards the house, which just made the boar headed man huff in frustration as he marched over and picked up his sparky friend. Tanjiro quickly gathered his sword and Nezuko's box to join them, hearing her small growls and whines as he stopped his friends once they reached the front door.

"Hold on, this place smells weird. and Inosuke, you still have your mask on! Remember Lady Kocho's warnings? Let's just wait a moment." Tanjiro begs.

"No way, we came all this way already. If they want to fight me about what I wear, let them!" With that Inosuke shoved the door open.

What they were greeted by was the smell of medicine, blood, and rotting wood. Through the door was a darkened hallway completely absent of outside light, yet a distinct small shadow sat in the middle of the floor. As they stepped forward to get a better view the child sized figure snapped its head towards the trio, glowing eyes of green and blue illuminated the hallway as red lights flickered on, revealing who was really there.

A small boy with black hair and white tips sat perfectly still, not blinking, not moving, not even breathing. His porcelain skin cracked with scars across his face and down his neck, all while an oversized blue kimono draped over his small body. If it wasn’t for an almost familiar scent of Jasmine, cedarwood, rose and strangely ice, Tanjiro would have believed they were a doll.

Tanjiro stepped forward, about to speak but stopped as the living doll opened their mouth…

A piercing screech caused everyone to drop to the ground in paralysing fear.

Ao3 link here; https://archiveofourown.org/works/46063900/chapters/115954591 

check out @thegatorsgoose fan art too. https://www.tumblr.com/thegatorsgoose/712982462899404800/art-from-chapter-one-of-aph-mable-s-danny?source=share 

[electrikworm]

Repoding: 99 meets Wrecker

Relationships: Wrecker & 99

Content Warnings: Implied/referenced Child Abuse, Dehumanization

Summary:

99, one of the janitors at Hemlock's lab, makes a frightening discovery about the place he works at when he meets Wrecker.

Part of my TBB Selkie au. Wrecker is 5, 99 is 39.

Word count: 2’651

Read on Ao3

Masterlist

For all the 23 years 99's worked for the Hemlock family, he's never known what their labs research. He's a janitor and was never privy to that knowledge. But that doesn't mean 99 is ignorant or blind to what they do. Ms. Hemlock, the woman that had employed 99 when he was just 15 and in threat of ending up on the street, was interested in marine life, though 99 never knew what she focused on. She rarely mentioned her work to 99. When Ms. Hemlock died, the lab went to her son, Royce Hemlock. A lot of changes were made when he took over. Large parts of the main lab 99 worked at were renovated or rebuilt and most of the staff was replaced. 99 guesses the reason he was kept around was the fact he looked after Royce when he was little. The lab still focused on marine life, more obviously that when Ms. Hemlock ran it. Hemlock spoke of his goals more openly. He wishes to do what many had avoided in the past, finally brings some clarity to the world about selkies, the elusive creatures both humanoid and pinniped. 99 wasn't involved in anything of course, at least not directly. But about 5 years ago, 99 was suddenly added to a briefing. The reason was that they were getting live specimen. 99 never took much of an interest in selkies, never having had any trouble with them before. But he has heard the stories. Fanged and clawed beasts that attack fishing boats and steal children that make certain bodies of water so dangerous, no humans are allowed near them. The same rules were applied to the lab. Any enclosure housing a selkie was to be avoided by anyone but the staff trained to do so, and 99 doesn't fit that bill. He stuck to that rule, only cleaning the enclosures when the inhabitants weren't present, taking detours to avoid the creatures. 99 was curious of course. He'd never seen a selkie, not unless you count the grainy images in news reports and circulating on the internet.

The fact he heard them sometimes made taking a look even more tempting. The selkies calls were a lot more high pitched than 99 would have guessed. But curiosity never got the better of him. 99 isn't stupid, he knows he could never outrun a creature like that, not with his spine and hip twisted as they are. There's no point in taking a risk like that. 99 intended to keep it that way, however, he made a mistake. Blame it on the fact his shift had gone on for far too long, or the fact he barely slept the previous night, but 99 could swear he hadn't seen the light indicating the isolation chamber as occupied. He was quietly mopping the floor when he heard it. A splash from the enclosure's pool. Since he'd hear the sound, 99 had been standing there, frozen, waiting. There's another splash, and the sound of something hitting the tiles. 99 should have left as soon as the mistake dawned on him. He should leave, before something happens. But 99 knows the enclosure is sunk into the ground and surrounded by an electric fence. They would have built it higher if the selkies could jump that high. He's already in here, so he might as well take a quick look at the creature housed in the enclosure. It's late, so the overhead lights are dimmed. In his mind, 99 paints a picture of what he might see once he looked over the fence as he approaches it. He envisions the creature hunched and snarling, eyes glinting in the dark. 99 has a hard time imagining the details, only that it's very animalistic. 99 holds his breath as he gets to the fence, not spotting anything in the enclosure yet. He finds it strange, there's not many places you can hide among the white tiles of the enclosure and 99 did just hear it move. It's near silent as 99 closes the last of the distance between himself and the safety measures keeping the creature in. "Hello," a voice says, breaking the still feeling that descended upon the room. 99's taken aback, dropping the mop he'd carried with him.

It clatters to the ground and rolls, falling through the small gap between the floor and the fence, making a second loud noise as it hits the floor of the enclosure. The voice that spoke is unmistakable a child's. 99 peers down into the lowered enclosure, finally spotting the selkie. He's so much smaller than 99 imagined, pressing his tiny body against the tiled wall to peer up to the edge of the enclosure.

His eyes are wide, dark pupils focused on 99 and his ears taper into points. In one clawed hand, he's holding the mop 99 dropped, struggling a little with it's size. His skin bears patterns, darkening around his hands and feet. The selkie is young, face and body rounded by baby fat. 99 stares down at him, frozen in place. He'd never even considered that Hemlock might have a child locked up here. "Hello," the selkie says again, exposing his sharp teeth as he speaks. "You dropped something." He lifts the mop higher, panting in exertion as he lifts his arms high above his body. 99 takes it from him, mind feeling miles away from the present. "Thank you," 99 says, and the kid smiles. "Am I still in trouble?" the selkie asks, picking at the tight shirt he's wearing, likely fabric made for extended contact with salt water, with his claws.

It dawns on 99 that this selkie, this child, has been put in isolation. 99 can't think of a single reason anyone would do that to a child.

When the selkie looks up at him again, 99 makes another disturbing discovery. The dark mark on his left cheek 99 had originally assumed to be the same dark patches as on the selkies limbs looks worryingly like a bruise.

99 realizes just how horribly out of his depths he is with this.

“I, uh... trouble?” is the clever response 99 comes up with. The small boy nods.

“For crying,” the selkie answers, sounding deeply ashamed of himself. He can't be more than six years old and here he is, reacting like crying is a punishable offence.

But then again, if he was put in isolation for doing just that, 99 guesses that in this small selkie's mind, crying is a punishable offence.

“Crying?” 99 exclaims, deeply horrified by this whole situation.

The boy flinches, drawing his clawed hands to his chest. “It- It was only for a moment! I swear! And I'm really, really sorry,” the selkie rambles, wringing his hands frantically. He barely seems to draw a breath as the words spill from his mouth.

Then, he goes very quiet, 99 can barely hear what he says. “But if you think I need to be hit more, that's okay. I can be quiet!”

99 almost chokes he inhales so sharply. “No! No, no, I'm not going to hurt you! You're a child,” 99 rambles right back. “Do- Do the guards hurt you?”

He's always wondered why the guards carry tasers and batons, but had never though more of it. Internally, 99 kicks himself for not doing so. How could he be so stupid?

The child nods. “The doctors too. Hemlock's the only nice one.”

99 scoffs. So that's what Royce had meant with “conditioning”.

“You're not dressed like a guards,” the boy says, looking up at 99 with big eyes.

“That's because I'm a janitor,” he answers, only to suddenly worry that the young selkie may not know that word. “I clean things.”

“Like what?”

“I clean the lab, your enclosures too,” 99 clarifies, leaning on his mop. He's not the only member of cleaning staff, but over the years, he's become the one in charge.

“Really?” the selkie asks, eyes widening as 99 nods. “Thank you.”

99 laughs. “Don't worry about it, it's my job.” After thinking for a moment, 99 continues. “Everyone calls me 99. What are you called?”

“You have a number name?” the boy gasps, raising a clawed hand to his face. “I'm 03!” The selkie tilts his head so 99 can see a bright piece of plastic on his ear, a tag. It has “03” written on it. Just another way this kid has been treated like an animal. 99 frowns.

“How long have you been here?” he asks.

“Since I was tiny!” 03 attempts to indicate the size he was, making 99 think he must have been a baby. At the start of Hemlock's active work with selkies five years ago, there had been a lot of noise, a lot of which sounded like crying. 99 really should have investigated sooner.

“What do they do to you?”

03 shrugs. “Hemlock teaches us things and we have to do tests.”

“We?” 99 asks. Hemlock had acquired multiple specimen, 99 had almost forgot that.

“There are three other selkies and they're my friends,” 03 beams. “You should say hello to them too!”

99's about to ask 03 another question when a firm hand on his shoulder startles him. “You've been told to stay clear of the specimen for your own safety,” a voice says, pulling 99 away from the enclosure. It's one of the guards, fixing him with a stern look.

“I'm keeping well away from the wires, nothing's going to happen,” 99 argues, but the guard's having none of it, pushing 99 in front of himself.

Even whilst trying to look back at the boy in the enclosure, 99 recognizes that the guard is bringing him to Hemlock's office. That's fine by 99, he'd wanted to talk to him anyway.

99 is shoved into Hemlock's office and the door is swung shut behind him. Hemlock's seated at his desk, typing at his computer. He doesn't even look up, so 99 wanders a little, looking at the dark bookshelves lined with a variety of books.

Some are still the same one's Hemlock's mother had displayed, others have been replaced by less scientific books, myths and stories about selkies. One catches 99's eye, bearing Hemlock's name on the side.

99 pulls it from the shelf. It's evidently a book on selkie anatomy, new facts about how their bodies work that have gone overlooked in the past.

Flipping through it, 99's eyes land on a picture of Hemlock, wearing thick gloves and holding the small boy he'd just met aloft. There's a serious look on Hemlock's face, but 03 seems to be yawning, showing of the sharp teeth in his mouth.

“Could you stop touching things?” Hemlock says, standing behind his desk now. Begrudgingly, 99 places the book back on the shelf.

“Why are you hurting a child, Royce?” 99 asks.

Hemlock sighs. “They're not children, they're animals, monsters. There's a reason you're not supposed to go near them.”

“I talked to one of them and they're far from as bad as you say they are. He acts just like any small boy would. This isn't right,” 99 says.

Hemlock walks around the desk, leaning against the front of it. “You've barely talked to one for more than a few minutes and now you're the expert?”

“I don't need more than that to know that this kind of treatment of them is unfair!” 99 tries to not let his emotions, his anger get to him.

“You're a smart man 99, but now you're just acting stupid. Selkies are a real threat to humans, always have been. How can you be this ignorant?”

“Even if they're animals like you said they are, how can you let your employees hurt them? How can you permit such cruelty?”

Hemlock groans. “It's operant conditioning 99, we've done it on plenty of animals over the years. Rats, pigeons, dogs. It's effective, so I'll use it.”

“It's inhumane,” 99 counters, staring Royce down.

“Well then it's lucky that they're not human.”

“You had 03 beat and isolated for crying. How is that justifiable?”

“I'm not discussing this with you any further, 99. I don't employ you to question all my actions.” Hemlock turns his back to 99, arms clasped against it.

“This can't be legal,” 99 mutters more to himself than to the room. It still makes Hemlock turn back to him.

“It is. Selkies aren't even classified as animals by law and the demand for more knowledge on these creatures, how we can defend ourselves against them, is high. Do you think I fund this research out of my own pocket?”

99 just shakes his head. That can't be true. He'd never thought much about selkies before today, why would he have? He'd never even seen one. But surely if they're this clearly sentient and intelligent, then people must know so, right?

“Take the day off, 99. The stress is clearly getting to you and you need a break.” Hemlock says. 99 just shakes his head again. “I insist.”

Before 99 can argue, Hemlock's already trying to get him out of the door of his office.

“You'll feel better after a break. And when you're back and you still want to risk losing fingers to our specimen, then you can go ahead and stick your hands into their enclosures and see what happens. But you'll be taking responsibility for that.”

Hemlock orders a guard to escort 99 out of the lab, not giving him a moment of peace until 99's out of the building.

The long drive home is gruelling with his mind so full of worried thoughts related to the labs occupants. 99 hadn't expected his life to change so drastically that day. By the sound of it, all of Hemlock's specimen are young.

All horribly mistreated just like 03 if 99's not guessing wrong. 99 never though Hemlock would resort to such cruelty, but he really had changed a lot in the years 99 didn't see him.

Hemlock has to be lying about this being legal. Selkies are sentient, that small conversation 99 had with 03 proves that. They're not feral, blood thirsty beasts either, that's clear to see. So there's absolutely no way treating them with such cruelty is allowed.

A few hours later, after arriving home, eating something small and spending an extensive amount of time trying to look up anything he could about selkies, 99 sits there with his head in his hands.

All he'd found confirmed what Hemlock said. Selkies have no rights, less than animals and barely anyone has anything kind to say about them.

There were a few people advocating for them, but they were usually hounded by those that don't share their opinions or made out to be not right in their mind in some way.

Weary, 99 sighs. This is so much worse than expected. There's not a single thing he can do for those selkies in that lab. As long as the law permits it, they'll just continue being mistreated.

Closing the tabs he's opened during his research, 99 runs a hand across his short hair. There has to be some way he can help, even if it's not much.

The image of that small boy, terrified, face bruised, keeps entering 99's mind. That's there's people capable of such cruelty worries 99. And somehow, Hemlock's managed to employ a whole staff of such people.

99 needs to learn more about the selkies, needs to look out for them in the lab. Maybe one day an opportunity will arise for him to free them, get them back to their own people, far away from Hemlock's lab.

Until then, 99 will have to try and make their lives as comfortable as possible.

Opening a new tab, 99 starts looking for that book Hemlock published as well as a good place to start learning first aid.

[spider-self]

IT had to resist the urge to freeze when Ben turned around, instead ducking into a doorway and leaning against the wall. This wasn't IT's preferred style of hunting, had the circumstances been different IT might have cornered him, led him down a dark alley and disposed of him quickly and quietly. He wouldn't have had the time to scream. This slow stalking, making Itself blend with the crowds.. IT could be patient yes, oh so patient. But deep down.. No, IT would never admit to even a hint of fear. IT was simply eager to have this done, to end their interference once and for all. IT simply could not rest easily knowing that they were still alive.

IT waited a few more moments before beginning to follow him once more. There had to be some kind of plan in place. Mike with his obsessive research would no doubt have found something related to IT's past. IT hadn't been particularly subtle over the years. There were clues for those who knew where to look. Some had of course, the losers were hardly the first to poke at the hornet's nest. But they were the first to succeed in getting away. They were the first to hurt IT as badly as they had. That pain still lingering was a constant reminder of why they needed to be destroyed. Suppose the insane possibility was true. Suppose they could defeat IT once more. Wouldn't they bring others who could hurt IT? Wouldn't they show them how and make a meal of IT as IT had intended to do to them? It could not be allowed.

Ben was the easiest target, less likely to lash out, less likely to use that innate ability to shine against IT. Had IT gone after Bill.. No doubt he would have thrust his fists against the posts and hurt IT badly. Ben however.. He doubted the human knew anything of Chüd. Dreamer though he was, he was too practical. He built strong structures, he was sturdy and reliable. He would be prey. IT felt IT's mouth fill with drool and spat, turning to watch the pavement hiss and steam where IT's salvia fell. Oh IT couldn't wait to tear into them all, perhaps IT could string them up, leave them to watch as IT ate them one by one.

It was that boldness that made IT act, IT should have been cautious, should have stuck to IT's original plan of staying back, watching from a distance. But where was the fun in that? The losers had haunted IT's dreams, filling IT's rest with fevered imaginings, restless nightmares. If IT couldn't bring them just a little terror, just a little fright in return for all those years.. Then there would be no point in continuing this, none at all. IT walked faster to catch up to him, reaching out to tug lightly on his sleeve. Up close the oh so human stench of him was strong and IT had to choke back the urge to growl.

"Excuse me, do you happen to know the way to the town house? I'm hopelessly lost."

@spider-self

Nobody in their right mind would ever pinpoint Ben as a threat, and it was as true now as it had been when he was a child. His body may have changed, leaner and stronger now than it had been, but inside he was still exactly the same, the guy who teared up at heartfelt commercials, and smiled at dogs and children, and loved his friends more than he loved himself. Well, when he had friends. Those close connections had eluded him after Derry, for reasons he was only just beginning to understand. 

He'd kept the folded yearbook page in his wallet for almost thirty years. He’d thought that meant he remembered, but was realizing that it was little more than a vague memory at best. The warmth of people he’d cared for as a child without the reservations that came with adulthood, nightmares that were forgotten as soon as he woke, a small town that he’d once lived in-- what was its name? It didn't really matter. It was the feelings that counted.

It was only once he was back in Derry that he realized how much he'd forgotten, Mike's phone call triggering a quiet avalanche in the back of his mind. He’d only just started to understand the scope of that fallout, an entire landscape changed. Walking around the town was like wandering through some half-remembered dream. He was supposed to find a token? But it was already in his pocket, had never really left him, so he was just killing time and letting the memories come back on their own.

The feeling of being watched never really went away. It was stronger since he’d set foot in Derry, but Ben had the sense he’d lived with it all his life in some form or another. And it was true, wasn't it? Something had set its sights on them a long time ago. The back of his neck prickled as the feeling intensified, and he glanced over his shoulder, scanning the street for something out of place. It wasn't busy, but it wasn't empty either, and nothing stood out. He couldn’t tell if someone was actually there, lurking just out of sight, or if he was just scaring himself.

[senkusphone]

@aresagainstthemachine asked so this one is for you. Video of it working at the end.

Here's the one project I am so proud of I named my entire blog after it.

Back in 2020, while I was stuck at home with few pleasant things to do, I decided to bring this contraption to life.

Only recently had I gotten into this inspiring series called Dr. Stone, and when I saw them make this device in the anime, I knew it was my divine calling to build it, for I had prior experience building circuits with vacuum tubes, an interest that was fostered greatly by my late grandfather when I was a boy. It had been because of the stories he'd tell me that I built my first crystal radio back then (which took me about 4 years of trial and error). Now, people had ''built'' the phone on youtube at least once before, but I was not satisfied with what they did, when they used parts that were too advanced and didn't even get it to transmit a voice, only to pick up radio stations. So I tried to go beyond while being as accurate as possible to the level of technology they had, I was seeking to achieve more with less

Making something that picks a radio signal is relatively easy, the challenge was making it also produce its own signal so it could truly be used as a phone (or more accurately, like a walkie talkie), and I restricted myself to use the most primitive tubes I had, the ones most similar to what old Kaseki would have made.

(Happy birthday to Kaseki by the way, February 9th) I started out using this beautiful Western Electric 262-A tube. This general purpose triode was developed around 1928 by the Bell Telephone company and one of the things it was known to be used for, was in cinema projectors to amplify the sound from the early talkie films. I think that's interesting enough to mention.

It wasn't long until my experiments showed great promise, eventually I moved on to a type 45 vacuum tube, another triode which is more powerful as a transmitter than the 262-A yet its construction is much more primitive. This tube is very similar to what Senku & Co. would've had.

I started building the definitive device, simultaneously laying a plan to combine a transmitter and receiver in the same unit using just one tube, a task that required this one part to perform four different duties (because I hadn't read the manga, and I didn't know the final unit they dispatched used two tubes instead of just one). On new year's eve at the end of 2020, the circuit was broadcasting One Small Step by Lillian Weinberg, loud and clear to a radio across the room.

You can get a recording of that in the link below as Tumblr won't let me upload it (yes I am using discord to host files, it also works for hosting images for your fanfics on Ao3, you're welcome).

The wooden circuit board was wired with homemade wires, made by cutting a sheet of copper into strips, and wrapping them in cotton and thread. A relay is used to switch the phone from receiver mode to transmitter mode with the push of a button.

Then the coils were calculated and wound, including the iconic large transmit coil

but would this coil that was made to look like the one in the series, be suitable to repeat what I had achieved in my experiments, would it resonate and produce the signal?

yes

I intended originally to have this project done before season 2 of Dr. Stone started, and put out a youtube video, but that ended up not happening. Still, the unit finally came together, and the plastic housing was a tupper with the rim cut off, painted orange and applied lettering.

By now season 2 had already ended, I believe, or it was soon to. Before I painted the case, I had to have one definitive test, to see that my creation demonstrated the functionality it promised, and now I had just the right voice to do it.

The final circuit was based on the work of radio pioneer Edwin Howard Armstrong, who was one of the fellows who invented the wireless world we know it today.

I turned the switch, and watched as the tungsten filament in the tube started glowing red. First I adjusted the receive coil and a radio station came in on the crystal earpiece, then, with a radio receiver in tune nearby, I started the sound I wanted to send over the air, and I pressed the transmit button...

It's true, it can be done. Today, there are people still alive who saw the day when the cutting edge of electronics was at this level. How far we've come from these baby steps, over such a short time.

Isn't science awesome?

I still haven't built a second unit.

[h-c-u]

Ways he shows you love

Summary: Maverick's love languages and some of the things he would do for you.

Pairing: Pete "Maverick" Mitchell x reader [I actually managed to keep the reader gn :) ]

W/C: 2.6k

Rating: PG

TWs: none

A/N: There is no specific story, just a bunch of soft headcanons stuck together with a washi tape, but they were bubbling in my head and I had to get them out in one place.

Masterlist | List of tags

After the initial - I don't deserve you, I'm too old for you, I'm always away, etc phase - he would finally relent and properly asked you to be his... girlfriend.

Since it was his first serious relationship, he wasn't exactly sure what it entailed. Of course, he knew the "proper relationship" tropes from movies, books, and Goose and Carol, but you didn't exactly fit into any of those categories, and he wanted to bring heaven to you, he just didn't know how. Yet. What he did know how to do, was how to fix things, so he started there. 

He took care of your leaky faucet in the kitchen first. Next, he replaced that one glass panel in your bedroom window, that started to crack. Later he connected the water pump in the garden to the main line, so you wouldn't have to drag heavy watering cans from the inside of the house anymore. 

When you mentioned that you wanted to paint one of the walls in your living room gold, he went to the ends of the Earth to find four different shades of metallic paint you might like and prepared everything, and that included taping the corners of the other walls and ceiling, putting protective foil on the floor and getting you all the rollers and paintbrushes you could possibly need. And when you were finished and decided that you wanted to paint realistic clouds on the ceiling, he was right there with you, researching the best techniques and renting a proper scaffolding for you, so you wouldn't have to balance on a ladder for three days straight; he wanted to do so many things for you, but respected that you also wanted to do them on your own, so he was just happy to... well... make you happy. 

When you couldn't find a specific coffee table you wanted, he spent hours upon hours asking you questions about it. What wood would be the best, did you want it stained? How about edges, rounded or squared? The exact dimensions...? To which height you wanted the countertop to raise, so you could still work and eat on it? How many compartments on the inside? Did you want any drawers...? How tall the legs should be...? And after about two weeks of those relentless questions, you came back home to the exact table you wanted, because he built one for you, with a small help from his friends. 

He very quickly noticed that you didn't drink coffee, observed which teas you'd prefer during the day, and was ready with one as soon as you realized you wanted it. 

When he was in the country, he was the one doing the majority of day-to-day cooking, while you were the one who took care of preserving fruits and veggies from your garden for longer terms. 

Since you had an inquisitive mind and loved understanding exactly how things worked, he answered every question you had in extreme detail. It didn't matter if it was about that fixed leaky faucet or the engine of his plane and why it needed that exact maintenance. 

He was always happy to teach you new things, and learn new things from you. 

Since you quickly became a top specialist in your field, you didn't have to work as much, because you were usually called only as a last resort or to teach courses, leaving you tons of time to work on your home and to spend time with Maverick; and you both used it to the fullest. He was genuinely interested in your work, even if he didn't always understand everything, and that sometimes made him wonder if the interest was actually there, or did he enjoy seeing you talk about something you were so passionate about, that he would do anything to maintain that level of energy in you. Either way, he ended up with a much higher level of knowledge about cloud engineering than some of your colleagues.

When you expressed interest in the local huntsman community, he was right there with you, learning and acing all the tests about maintaining a proper balance in nature, how to create spaces for endangered species, and sometimes - how to help control a population. He was there when you killed your first deer, and held you close when you cried. You knew it had to be done because he was attacking and killing the younger bucks in the area, yet still - it affected you. And he guided you through those complicated emotions. After the meat was tested, he was the one to properly process and preserve every possible part, and that helped you feel less guilty, because every part of that majestic animal was properly utilized, and it fed both of you for over half of winter.

Even as a kid you wanted to do as many things as you could from scratch, that's why you ended up in a small house next to the forest, with a giant garden, that already had a proper orchard, and he never batted an eye when you wanted to plant new veggies, try freeze drying or dehydrating them, and when the pantry next to your small kitchen filled up, he was the one that came with the idea of building a root cellar, and you took a course on building one together.

And next year, when you wanted to get chickens, he was the one who researched what would be needed in the coop and built one from the recycled haul of the plane, which made you laugh so hard because you just loved it. And after that, when you wanted to start a small colony of bees, he was right there with you, preparing proper frames and contacting local beekeepers in search of a hive. 

He helped you maintain everything in tip-top condition, even though you were the one who usually got up first to do some light weeding, feeding the chickens, and gathering eggs. He was up just as you were finishing up, and was ready for you with tea and breakfast. 

It was only natural that he was the one to move in because he knew that you would suffocate living in assigned housing on base, so far from nature. He loved that duality in you... You were working in a very technical and futuristic field, and yet, here you were... Gathering honey from your bees. 

You knew he was doing a lot for you, but it first hit you how much, when he was deployed for the first time since he moved in. All the teas, the cooking, making sure that you'll actually eat during work... Of course, there were other, more technical things around the house, but you were more aware of those since you knew the building in and out, and you knew you'd had to take care of them when he was out. But there were so many small things that you didn't even notice during the regular day, which made you feel guilty because you weren't doing as much for him... An empty house was something that you could stomach, an empty bed...? Let's just say it was harder. That's when you noticed that he left three of his favorite t-shirts and his leather jacket, and you took full advantage of wearing them almost every day. The shirts quickly stopped smelling like him, but the jacket... it was what helped you the most since the calls were so few and far between. He couldn't even tell you where he was, so you weren't even able to check the news from that area.

When he proposed, he didn't do it in some grand way, because he knew you would hate it... He actually planned a beautiful two-day hike to the top of a mountain, just the two of you, where he planned to propose, but a huge storm caught you, and you had to pitch a tent in a rush because coming down was more dangerous than staying where you were. And the storm just went on and on... So you've spent the whole night just... talking, nothing else. Whispering soft stories about your time together, possible plans for the future, and the silly little project you wanted to do around the house... All the words were barely written into existence before being drowned by the sounds of rain viciously attacking your tent. And when in the morning the storm was still raging, he realized that you're not gonna move anytime soon, and he just couldn't wait any longer, so he pulled out a small box with a simple, handmade ring with a green stone embedded in such a way, that it wouldn't snatch on anything. You of course said yes because for you - it was perfect and unusual, and you loved to tell that story, even if most of your friends couldn't quite understand why.

He insisted on having a prenup, since you were the one who was earning more in your relationship, but to be honest, both of your pensions were mostly piling up in your accounts since you were mostly living from your land, which somehow wasn't the plan when you first bought the house. Sure, you wanted to have some fruits and veggies during the summer, but it somehow evolved into this beast that you loved more than anything, because your land basically became a living thing that required love and attention, but was giving so much in return. You eventually decided to get solar panels and dig a well, after one particularly long break in receiving water and electricity after the hurricane. You weren't one of those people that were getting ready for the apocalypse, and you definitely wouldn't try to force a similar lifestyle on anyone. And of course, you didn't judge anyone for living differently. You just found it funny that you've found yourself in this position, but you loved every moment.

When it came to gifts for special occasions, he never gave you something that you could just buy yourself. It was either something you wanted, but couldn't find anywhere, or an experience. Because of that, he took you to pottery classes, found a bookbinder who spend a weekend with you, teaching you the basics of making and conserving paper, and later - how to properly bind it. He also took you to a jewelry workshop, where you learned different methods of casting metal, and after that, he found a geologist who took both of you for a day-long adventure all about finding raw crystals and how to recognize fossils hidden in simple stones; you still had few of those on your fireplace. 

He was never the biggest fan of public displays of affection, but neither were you and yet when you on occasion grabbed his hand and intertwined your fingers, he never let them go.

He learned everything there was about you... Not only what was visible on the surface, but because he spent so much time looking at you, he knew things even you didn't know were there. He noticed that when you were working, you preferred to use one specific type of perfume, and you were using them unconsciously when you needed to focus on work. So when he noticed you were having trouble focusing on the task you just had to do, he smeared a bit of them behind your ears, kissed the top of your head, and in only a few minutes you were back to clicking on your keyboard at the speed of light. He noticed that you gravitated to one specific brand of pens when you were documenting what you did in the garden and when you were tracking the crops, so he made sure that they were always laying around the house in visible places, and it wasn't even your favorite brand, you just liked them for this specific activity. 

When you were leaving for a week with your friends, he not only drove to the meeting point but prepared snacks for the road for everyone, and even made a thermos full of mulled wine, and you knew that you were leaving your home in very capable and loving hands, so there was not even a second when you were worried when some of your friends did... About their husbands, about their kids... And you...? After all those years you two became an extension of each other and there was nothing but trust between you two. And when you came back after a whole week of backpacking, there was a white gazebo with a blue roof, and a swing mounted to the ceiling in the corner of your garden, a mirror image of what you had in your head. He even planted the vines on the sides, but it would be a while until they'd covered the intricate white paneling. 

At first, it was hard for you to pinpoint a way he'd preferred to receive your love and attention. He wasn't the biggest fan of gifts per se... He of course cherished everything you were giving him, like that stupid pendant you cast in your metallurgy course, that somehow managed to look a little bit like a plane. And the mugs you made together during the pottery course... But something like an expensive watch or a new bike was definitely out of the question. When it came to words of affirmation... He had an extremely complicated relationship with compliments, even if they were genuine, but he loved hearing you say that you love him, so you would try to pepper that in during the day. Neither of you liked touching that much. Of course, there was occasional cuddling, but it wasn't something either of you craved; it was more of a comfort thing after a long day. There was one exception though... He simply melted when you were playing with his hair, didn't matter when or where, it was like his reset button. And even though he showed love by doing things for you, when it came to receiving love the same way, he was more than uncomfortable, so you also had to wiggle around that. And then there was just... time spent together. Didn't matter if you were actually doing something together-together, or you were just simply there, reading a book when he was fixing up the plane. Or if he was going over paperwork on the terrace while you were doing something in the garden. 

Simply spending time with you was recharging his batteries, and your single smile was able to make all the worries go away in a blink of an eye; he just couldn't stay frustrated or angry in your proximity, which was fun to see when you were spending time together with his friends from the navy, because they rarely got to see him as you saw him every day. He was much calmer, less anxious, and somehow... more confident...? Of course as a pilot and a captain, he had to be confident in his decisions, but with you near... It was just another type of confidence, at least that's what Ice said. He couldn't explain it in more detail though. 

You two worked well together and somehow managed to avoid serious fights over the course of your 14 years of marriage. Sure, there were disagreements, but neither of you was above admitting when you were wrong, so you never got properly angry, having too much respect and love for each other to assume less than the best about the other person. 

You were the couple that your friends looked up to and were a tiny bit jealous of... You were the couple that randomly started dancing in the kitchen when "Snowman" by Sia came on the radio. You were the couple that after all those years looked at each other as if you saw each other for the first time ever. You were the couple who read books to each other out loud. You were simply a couple that loved each other.