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queenshelby · 3 years ago

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The Singer – Part Three

Pairing: Cillian Murphy x Reader

Words: 7,970

Warning: Smut, Some Swearing, Age Gap

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***Raising Suspicions***

Kurt was quick to tell Amanda about his suspicions. He was sure that Cillian and you were involved after he’s seen Cillian’s watch at your apartment, lying on his study desk along with an empty condom wrapper.

He wasn’t surprised, knowing very well that you preferred older partners and that he was the exception all along. But Amanda didn’t buy into his suspicions.

‘Common Kurt, you are being ridiculous. Cillian wouldn’t be interested in Y/N’ Amanda said, but Kurt simply raised an eyebrow at Amanda’s comment.

According to Amanda, you weren’t Cillian’s type. You were too young and too outspoken. In addition, she explained to Kurt that Cillian wouldn’t like your tattoos, piercings and your involvement on social media. You were completely different to Amanda, not just physically but also mentally. You were an extrovert whereas Amanda was an introvert. She was mostly quiet and reserved whereas you were loud and direct.

Despite Amanda’s comments, Kurt didn’t back down and eventually confronted Cillian when they were on their own.

‘Are you fucking my girlfriend?’ Kurt asked Cillian out of the blue.

‘Excuse me?’ Cillian responded somewhat flustered by Kurt’s question.

‘It’s a simple question Cillian. Are you fucking my girlfriend? Yes or no?’ Kurt asked again angrily, starring at Cillian’s watch again.

‘Did someone spike your coffee this morning or something?’ Cillian asked somewhat annoyed, making Kurt sound absurd.

‘Alright, don’t fucking answer my question then but, just so you know, since you are always trying so hard to stay out of the tabloids, it would look really fucking bad if you left Amanda for a woman half your age’ Kurt went on to say, catching Cillian by surprise.

‘You have issues man’ Cillian said angrily before walking away from the conversation, getting on with the things he had to do for the arts and music festival.

Despite Cillian’s immediate reaction to Kurt’s question, Kurt’s comments didn’t leave Cillian’s mind for the remainder of the day.

Of course, it would be bad if he was involved with someone half his age, especially shortly after separating from Amanda which was something that wasn’t even public knowledge yet and it was exactly this what made Cillian think about whether he should continue seeing you.

With these thoughts on his mind, he became rather distant over the next few days, not returning your calls and messages, only engaging into conversations with you when he absolutely had to.

You were frustrated by his behaviour and the least you were expecting from him was that he would talk with you about what happened between you. If he believed it was a mistake that you slept with each other, then you wanted to know.

Eventually, a week had passed and nothing had changed.

***New Woman***

After having been upset and frustrated with Cillian and Kurt, you’ve given up on men all together and, on a Thursday evening, your closest friend Emily and her fiancée Judy took you out to a LGBT friendly bar in Dublin.

It was cocktail night and Judy introduced you to a friend of hers named Kirsten. Kirsten was a local Dublin artist and photographer and you got on with her quite well immediately.

You spent the entire evening talking and dancing and you eventually had a few too many drinks and left the bar together with Kirsten.

Sharing a taxi together, you got quite comfortable on the backseats and things eventually got heated between you and Kirsten when Kirsten leaned in and kissed you passionately while running one of her hands between your thighs.

Her lips were soft and smelled like strawberries from the lip gloss she was wearing and you couldn’t resist but give into the kiss on the backseat of the taxi.

‘Did you want to come to my place?’ Kirsten asked when your lips drifted apart.

‘I probably shouldn’t…I have been making a few mistakes lately’ you whispered, knowing that Kirsten was, in fact, in a relationship with someone else.

‘It could stay our little secret you know’ Kirsten smirked but, despite the large amount of alcohol you had to drink, you shook your head.

‘Listen, you are gorgeous but I don’t do one-night stands, I am sorry. Perhaps we will meet again under different circumstances’ you said with a tender smile before allowing Kirsten to kiss you once more just before the taxi driver pulled up in front of her apartment.

After a short final kiss, Kirsten got out of the taxi and walked into her apartment while you remained sitting, asking the taxi driver to take you home.

When you got home, you quickly undressed and let yourself fall onto your soft and large vintage style bed which is where you remained fast asleep until 8 o’clock the following morning.

At 8 o’clock, your phone beeped and it was text message from your sister with a link to one of the bar’s patron’s Twitter Accounts…

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“New Relationship for Y/N L/N with sexy Dublin artist Kirsten Lang??? It looks like Kurt Spencer is finally out of the picture”

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This was a nightmare, you thought. The last thing you needed was false information being out there about you while you were still dealing with your break up from Kurt and all you could think about was Cillian.

But, there was nothing you could do about it and, after digesting the news, you had a shower and got ready for another day of organising this arts and music festival.

When you arrived at the usual meeting spot, everyone had already seen the Twitter post and Kurt immediately gave you a serving about it, asking you why he wasn’t invited for a threesome with your lesbian friend.

‘Fuck off’ was all you managed to respond with. Still hungover and angry about the Twitter post, the last thing you needed was Kurt making a comment like this.

With your coffee in your hand, you eventually sat down next to Cillian who looked at you with a half grin on his face. His eyes were full of questions but he didn’t say anything at all.

‘What?’ you asked, annoyed by the way he looked at you.

‘Are you alright?’ Cillian asked concerned.

‘No, I am not fucking alright, ok? I am sick of this shit’ you said with frustration as you scrolled through the Twitter comments.

‘You need to be more careful about who you hook up with in public. Trust me, I speak from experience’ Cillian chuckled, referring to that one night a few years ago where he was caught by cameras having a night out with one of his female co-stars. The incident caused his first major fight and break up with Amanda until it became public that Cillian and his female co-star were, in fact, accompanied by his co-star’s boyfriend and several other members of the film crew.

‘Well thanks for the advice’ you said angrily, still unsure why he cared.

‘Was it worth it at least?’ Cillian asked carefully, trying to figure out whether anything happened between you and Kirsten

‘Nothing happened. We just kissed. So no, it wasn’t fucking worth it’ you said. You couldn’t help but chuckle yourself knowing how idiotic this all was.

‘You’ve got two choices here. Either, you set the record straight or you let it go Y/N’ Cillian said calmly, feeling genuinely sorry for you.

‘What would you do in my situation?’ you asked.

‘I’ve learned not to give a shit about gossip like this over the years. Personally, I would let it slide. But I can see that it bothers you, so get your manager to make a statement on your behalf or, like you young people do, make a statement yourself on this platform with the bird on it which I think is where the rumours are coming from, right?’ Cillian recommended with a warm smile.

‘What Twitter?’ you laughed.

‘Yeah. Or you can use whatever social media platform you young artists use these days’ Cillian suggested.

‘Good idea old man. I will make a tweet’ you laughed. ‘But tell me, if you don’t use Twitter, how did you know about it in the first place?’ you went on and asked.

‘Kurt has a big mouth’ Cillian chuckled.

‘Of course’ you sighed.

After the initial Twitter drama, your day working with Cillian went exceptionally well and you felt much better after setting the record straight on Twitter, having your followers and fans interact on your post and offering their support.

You finished up after about five hours, ready to head back home in order to have a lazy evening.

‘Do you want a lift back home?’ Cillian asked after you indicated that you would be leaving and were ready to catch up on some sleep. You had told Cillian earlier that your car was still with the mechanics and he could see the tiredness on your face.

‘No thanks, I will walk’ you said despite the fact that you were tired and walking was the last thing on your mind. You were trying to spend as little time as possible with Cillian.

Cillian nodded and, just like this, you were out of the door.

‘You know, if you like her, perhaps just tell her’ Janine, the administration assistant, said to Cillian after having observed his interactions with you for the past few weeks.

‘Excuse me?’ Cillian asked surprised and with a slight chuckle.

‘It’s obvious that you like her. Just as it is obvious that you touched the damn printer again last week even after I told you not to’ she then went on to say.

‘I am sorry about the printer’ Cillian chuckled.

‘Sure you are’ she laughed before walking off.

***Change of Mind***

Unfortunately for you, the following day, which was also going to be the last day of working with Cillian and some others on the festival preparations, was going to be even worse than the last.

You barely made it to the office on time again, not having had much sleep again. You were on to your third cup of coffee and had been taking pain killers all night.

‘Fuck Y/N, you look awful. Are you alright?’ Cillian said as you sat down next to him and, over at the copier station, he could see Janine shake her head in disbelieve. He just told the woman he liked that she looks awful. He was a hopeless case she thought.

‘Oh, thanks Cillian. That makes me feel better’ you chuckled as you took a sip from your large cup of coffee and popped yet another two tablets of paracetamol.

‘Sorry, I didn’t mean it this way. You just look unwell’ Cillian said shyly, looking over to Janine for guidance. She nodded in approval.

‘I am fine. It’s just the time of the month’ you responded quietly and with some embarrassment.

‘What do you mean?’ Cillian asked with some confusion.

‘She means that she’s got her period Cillian’ Janine chuckled from behind before walking off.

‘Right. Of course’ Cillian said, his cheeks starting to flush. ‘Why didn’t you just stay at home if you are unwell?’ he went on to ask.

‘Because my apartment won’t have any electricity until 8pm. They are finally fixing the central heating system’ you explained.

‘Bad timing’ he responded.

‘I know. I will go to my sister’s later for dinner. Although I don’t really feel like it. She’s got two young kids who are quite a hand full and all I want to really do is chill and watch Netflix’ you whined.

‘Well, if you want to, you can come over to my place. No kids there and we could get some food, watch a movie and then I will drive you home once the electricians have left’ Cillian suggested.

‘Do you actually mean that or is this a “come up for tap water” type of situation?’ you asked causing Cillian to laugh.

‘You just said you have your period so it’s defiantly not a “come to my house for some tap water” type situation’ Cillian chuckled.

‘Believe it or not, some guys are into that. It’s just that I am not’ you giggled, causing Cillian to raise his eyebrows.

‘I can assure you that I am not one of those guys. Just a movie and some food, alright?’ Cillian laughed and you nodded, knowing that this would be a mistake but you much preferred a quiet evening with Cillian than a loud evening with your nephews while you were battling your period pains.

Just as promised, after a long day, Cillian took you home with him after you cancelled on your sister.

He dropped you at his house first, showing you how the TV works, before leaving you there on your own for half an hour so that he could organise some food for you as his fridge was usually empty now that Amanda had finally moved out.

While he was gone, you looked around the living area and you noticed that all pictures of Amanda and Cillian had gone. He clearly had moved on.

Eventually, you lied down on the lounge, watching TV and it wasn’t long until Cillian returned with two large shopping bags and it looked to you like he was going to cook for you.

‘When you said food, I expected pizza or chinese take away’ you said surprised before telling him that no man had ever cooked you dinner before and you were delighted by his efforts.

‘Nah, I enjoy cooking’ Cillian said with a warm smile as he continued to unpack the grocery bags.

Amongst ingredients for risotto, he also bought a caramel fudge ice cream, a bottle of wine, a hot water bottle and very warm ruby red socks.

‘Please explain’ you giggled as you held up the socks.

‘The last time we watched a movie together, in your bed, you had your feet wedged between my lower thighs because they were cold’ Cillian laughed before running his thumb over your cheeks and then pulling away, realising that he might have overstepped the line once again.

‘Thank you, you are very observant’ you said, feeling the want to kiss him but holding back.

‘How about you have bath while I do this’ Cillian then suggested and your eyes lid up. Your apartment didn’t have a bathtub but you also didn’t see a bathtub in the bathroom you used the last time when you came to Cillian’s house.

‘I feel bad. I should really help you’ you then said, feeling guilty that Cillian was doing all the work.

‘There is no need Y/N. Common, I will run you a bath’ Cillian said before showing you the way upstairs to his bedroom.

‘You’ve got nice taste’ you said as you looked around his bedroom and observed the quite obviously new furniture and artwork.

‘Thanks’ Cillian chuckled as he grabbed a fluffy white towel from the large cabinet inside his walk in-wardrobe.

The entire bedroom was furnished with modern wooden furniture and only a little decoration. Over the bed there was a large painting of a landscape in France and the bedside lamps were almost contemporary or vintage.

Across from the large king size bed was a spa bath and, behind a nook, there was the rest of the bathroom. The entire area could be closed by a large sliding door or could be left open if you wanted to watch TV.

You watched Cillian put some bubble bath into the tub and then turn on the water before changing the lightening and handing you the towel, a t-shirt and your brand-new fluffy socks.

‘I will be downstairs alright?’ he said with a warm smile and you nodded shyly.

You got undressed as soon as he left the room and sank into the hot water. It was delightful but you wished he would have joined you for the bath.

He was very different from Kurt, caring and romantic and you wished that he would let you in, give you chance.

After your bath, you returned downstairs wearing nothing but the t-shirt Cillian had given you, your panties and the red fluffy socks.

‘This was so nice’ you said as the pain in your stomach had decreased. ‘And this smells so good’ you added as you looked what Cillian was cooking.

‘Before I put all this chilli in there, do you like spicy food?’ Cillian asked as you stood next to him, closely watching what he was doing.

‘I love spicy food so bring it on’ you giggled, giving Cillian a big smile.

***Return of Romance***

After you both ate dinner and cleaned up the dishes, Cillian had a quick shower before sitting down next to you on the lounge in a t-shirt and trackpants.

‘Still bad?’ Cillian asked as he observed you holding your stomach.

‘Yeah, it usually lasts a day or two’ you said and, without asking, Cillian got up and boiled the kettle.

Moments later, he returned with the hot water bottle he had purchased and placed it onto your stomach before indicating to you to lie down on the lounge and pick a movie.

‘Seriously? You let me pick a movie again?’ you asked as Cillian sat down next to you.

‘I know I might regret this but yeah’ Cillian chuckled just as you put one of the small lounge pillows onto his laps and rested your head on top of it.

Cillian’s hands soon found your hair and ran his fingers through it gently while you searched through Netflix.

‘Please, no’ Cillian chuckled as you stopped at Pretty Woman and cheekily pressed play.

It was your favourite movie and Cillian already regretted giving you the remote control.

About ten minutes into the movie, you shared some ice cream and then you sat up next to him, curling up against his chest watching Julia Roberts seducing Richard Gere.

You were still in pain and Cillian noticed, his hand rubbing against your lower back gently while you held onto your hot water bottle.

‘Are you alright?’ he whispered while you took in the scent of his aftershave.

‘Hmm, yeah this is nice’ you murmured, referring to Cillian’s hand massaging your lower back gently.

‘I am glad that I am not a woman’ Cillian chuckled just before he moved some of your hair out of your face which was when you looked up at him, starring into his deep blue eyes yet again while Richard Gere was taking Julia Roberts over the piano.

‘I always wanted to do this…on a piano’ you said quietly, causing Cillian to chuckle again but then lean forward, pressing his lips onto yours gently.

You loved the feeling of his soft lips on yours and gave into the kiss which was long, gentle and passionate.

Then your lips drifted apart and you looked at each other full of questions before they met again, this time more intense than before, your tongues meeting and moving in sync.

‘I missed this’ Cillian whispered as your lips drifted apart, his hands caressing your face gently.

‘So did I’ you said quietly before wanting more, kissing Cillian again, not getting enough of his sweet lips.

You spent the remainder of the movie curled up against each other, touching each other and kissing each other until, finally, Richard Gere climbed up Julia Robert’s balcony ladder with a bunch of flowers, admitting his love to her.

‘God that is so damn romantic’ you said as your eyes began to water, Cillian looking at you somewhat confused.

‘If you say so’ he chuckled before giving you another kiss and taking the ice cream bowls to the dishwasher.

‘I should probably get home soon Cilly, I am pretty tired’ you said as you got up, following him to the kitchen but not really wanting to leave.

‘You can stay the night if you want’ Cillian said, his hands on your hips, pulling you close for another kiss.

You nodded shyly before asking him whether he would give your lower back another rub. No one had ever done this for you before and it felt amazing, taking away some of the awful pain.

‘I could give you a massage in bed’ he smirked, causing you to look at him with some confusion.

‘Are you being cheeky?’ you asked, thinking that he intends to get kinky with you which was not what you were after while on your period.

‘No, I am serious’ Cillian said before kissing you again briefly. ‘Let me show you what these hands can do’ he winked, causing you to laugh and follow him upstairs to his bedroom.

As soon as you arrived at the front of Cillian’s large bed, you were quick to take off your t-shirt and climb on the bed, wearing nothing but your cotton panties and warm socks.

Cillian momentarily disappeared, getting some sort of body lotion from beneath the sink.

‘That should work I guess’ he said before he climbed onto the bed with you, his eyes gazing over your mostly naked body for a minute before he squirted some of the cold lotion onto your back.

His hands were magic, working your upper back and then your lower back gently before he leaned down, trailing small kisses at the back of your neck.

Goosebumps were forming all over your skin and you wished that you didn’t have your period as, otherwise, you would have turned around and make him take you on his large and comfortable bed.

Eventually, after Cillian had massaged your back for almost 20 minutes, you turned around to face him, relaxed and even somewhat sleepy.

‘Fuck that felt good’ you giggled just before Cillian took off his t-shirt and tracksuit pants and lied down next to you, quickly throwing the large doona over you both in the hope that you wouldn’t notice his raging erection.

‘Feeling a little better?’ he asked and you nodded before thanking him for taking care of you.

‘You know I could help you with that?’ you smirked as you reached for his crotch, noticing how hard he was.

‘Not tonight’ Cillian said as he pushed your hand away gently, knowing that you were probably still in pain. But, none of this prevented him from pulling you closer towards him for more gentle kisses until, eventually, you curled up against his chest, listening to his heartbeat.

‘Cillian?’ you murmured, looking up into his deep blue eyes once again.

‘Hmm’ he responded with a warm smile, his fingers running through your hair gently.

‘What is this between us?’ you wanted to know.

‘I don’t know. All I know is that I can’t stay away from you no matter how hard I try’ he responded, his tone soft and warm.

‘Then stop trying. I mean, why are you trying anyway?’ you chuckled as you continued to look up at him while playing with his chest hair.

‘For so many fucking reasons Y/N’ he responded.

‘Like what?’ you asked.

‘For starters, you are twenty years younger than me’ he explained and you knew that the age gap between you had been an issue for Cillian.

‘So? You know I prefer older men’ you reassured him.

‘I’ve seen the shit you went through with your ex-girlfriend. This is going to be worse and I know much bad press bothers you’ he explained, remembering reading the tabloids when your first long term relationship broke down.

‘I am willing to take my chances. What else?’ you asked.

‘We both just came out of failed relationships. I don’t think it’s smart to start dating again so soon’ Cillian said concerned.

‘Listen Cillian, I don’t expect to be your girlfriend or us going public. At the moment, you keep pushing me away every time we get closer and I wonder if we could just give this a chance. Let’s just keep it between us and see where it goes’ you suggested.

‘I would like that’ he then said before giving you another few kisses and turning off the light.

You were still curled up against Cillian and could feel the heat radiate from his body when you drifted off to sleep. Usually, you hated sleeping in other people’s beds but, that night, you felt comfortable and safe.

No one had ever treated you so well and you were happy with where you and Cillian were at and how far you had come after all the ups and downs.

You also remembered your relationship with Kurt. Being with Cillian was all so different to what you knew. It made you realise what you had missed out on.

You slept well through the night with Cillian holding you tight but, the following morning, you were woken up by an uncomfortable feeling beneath you.

You were quite vigilant when it came to your period and when you felt something sticky on your upper thigh, you got disturbed.

Woken by the unfamiliar feeling, your eyes drifted open slowly and you looked up. It was getting light outside which was when it clicked.

You remembered that you should probably have changed your tampon again before going to sleep and your heart began to pound heavily.

Feeling you wiggle around and moving the doona to the side, Cillian was slowly waking up himself, his arm falling over to the side searching for you.

But, you had scooted up and out of the bed which is when you noticed the two small blood stains on your upper thigh.

You quickly ran to the bathroom to wash them off and change what had to be changed but you knew what this meant.

You probably had gotten some stains onto Cillian’s sheet sheets as well and you weren’t ready to face this embarrassment.

‘What’s wrong Y/N?’ Cillian murmured as you returned from the bathroom.

‘I…I think…’ was all you managed to say as you pulled aside the doona and, as you had feared, noticed a small blood stain not only on the sheets but also on Cillian’s upper thigh, which was caught up in between your legs all night when you were sleeping.

You immediately began to shake nervously, feeling embarrassed by what had just happened.

‘Hey Y/N, what’s wrong?’ Cillian asked as he held out one of his hands, indicating for you to come back to bed as he was surprised by your reaction.

‘I am sorry Cillian but I think I stained your sheets and there is some on your thigh…I am so fucking sorry’ you said almost hysterical.

Cillian looked down at his thigh and the sheets for a brief moment, unsure about what the problem was until he noticed the blood stains.

‘So? I will wash the sheets and have a shower, who cares’ Cillian said with a raised eyebrow before pulling you onto him.

‘That’s so embarrassing’ you said but Cillian disagreed.

‘No, it’s natural. Don’t worry about it’ he said before kissing you passionately and you were surprised that he wasn’t bothered in the slightest. Kurt would have made a massive scene if you had ruined his fine cotton sheets like that.

As you were making out, sharing several kisses while grinding your bodies against each other to get some traction, you suddenly heard a loud female voice coming from the doorway.

‘You are fucking kidding me’ Amanda said loudly and in disbelieved as she saw you on top of Cillian half naked by that point.

‘Holy Fuck’ you shouted before quickly scooting beneath the doona.

‘What the hell are you doing here?’ Cillian asked somewhat angrily about the fact that she had just entered his house unannounced before getting up and pulling a t-shirt over his head.

‘Getting the last of my stuff. I told you I would come by over the weekend to grab it’ Amanda explained angrily.

‘Yes, and I would have expected you to use the fucking doorbell when you do’ Cillian said firmly before walking downstairs with her.

‘I cannot believe that Kurt was actually right’ Amanda said almost hysterical and you could hear her and Cillian argue from the bedroom.

‘Right about what?’ Cillian asked.

‘That you are fucking her. God that’s so disgusting, you know that? She is almost half your age…trading me in for a younger model, that’s something I never expected’ Amanda said with anger.

‘I didn’t trade you in for anyone Amanda. We broke up because you couldn’t get over your fucking jealousy’ Cillian explained.

‘Well, it was warranted it seems’ Amanda said.

‘I never fucking cheated on you’ Cillian yelled and it was at this point that Amanda began to shout, calling you and Cillian names.

Eventually, Cillian kicked Amanda out of his house and immediately called a locksmith before driving you home.

***First Date***

You didn’t expect to hear from Cillian for the remainder of the day, especially in light of what happened with Amanda and the fact that he told you last night that he wasn’t sure where this was going between you. But, to your surprise, at around 2 o’clock you received a call from him.

During the call, Cillian asked whether you felt like going for dinner with him at restaurant near your house.

Was this a date, you wondered? It sure sounded like a date. If it was a date, did it mean that he no longer cared about the implications he was concerned about previously after your talk last night?

You sure wanted to find out and accepted Cillian’s offer to take you for dinner and he picked you up at 6 o’clock, nice and early so that you had enough time to watch a movie at your place afterwards.

The restaurant was rather busy and Cillian had booked a nice booth in the corner, giving you some privacy.

He ordered a bottle of wine while you looked through the menu for some tapas to share. You enjoyed the same type of food and it was easy for you to agree on the dishes.

‘So, is this a date?’ you asked Cillian after the waitress had taken your order.

‘I suppose’ he chuckled before he took your hands into his, sharing a tender moment with you.

‘Good, because I was worried that our run in with Amanda this morning put you off a little. I’ve heard what she said to you’ you said quietly, knowing about Cillian’s reluctance when it came to dating you, a woman twenty years his junior.

‘If anything, it made me care even less about the reservations I have about us’ Cillian explained.

‘Well, hopefully, those reservations will disappear completely when you realise how awesome I am’ you joked just before the waitress brought out the first dish.

You enjoyed your dinner and wine despite the fact that a group of girls on a table nearby were watching you. You tried hard not to care, but the giggling and whispering bothered you more than it would usually have when you were out with someone else.

Eventually, one of the women from the table came over just as you and Cillian were about to leave, asking Cillian for photo which he declined politely.

The restaurant was only a short stroll from your apartment and you were ready to get your comfortable clothes on and watch a movie with Cillian.

Shortly after you arrived at your apartment, you got changed into a nightie, poured two glasses of wine and asked Cillian whether he could get the lighter from the top draw of your bedside table so that you could light some candles.

As you put the two glasses of wine onto your coffee table, you heard a loud buzzing coming from besides your bed and you recognised the sound immediately.

‘Cillian!’ you shouted as you watched Cillian play with one of your vibrators, a big grin running over his face.

‘Give it here. I said top draw, not bottom draw’ you chuckled as you took the vibrator out of his hand.

‘How does it work? It clearly won’t fit inside you’ he asked curiously, his grin getting bigger.

‘It’s called a wand and it is for clitoral stimulation only. I actually never used it because it’s too intense. My sister talked me into it, saying it’s the best thing ever. But I don’t know’ you explained, your face flushing with embarrassment.

‘Sounds interesting’ Cillian chuckled, which is when you noticed that Cillian had already lid the candles on your beside table.

‘Not really’ you said before you shuffed the vibrator back into the draw and, just as you came up, Cillian crashed his lips onto yours.

‘There are other things I’ve found in your draw’ Cillian said after your lips drifted apart and before he reached for the handcuffs and satin blindfold in your bedside table and threw them onto your bed.

‘Cillian, remember, I’ve got my period’ you giggled just as Cillian pulled your nightie over your head, leaving you in nothing but your panties.

‘I am aware. Just let me make you feel good’ he said, grinning again before pushing you onto the bed and hoovering over you.

‘Cillian, I am serious’ you giggled, his teeth grazing your neck gently.

‘Don’t worry, your panties are staying on and I promise that I won’t touch you down there’ he said reassuringly and, whilst you had no idea how he would get you off without touching your most intimate body part, you agreed and reluctantly lifted your hands over your head and allowed Cillian to tie your wrists against the bedhead with your leather cuffs.

Cillian then gently placed the blindfolds over your eyes, carefully tying the knot behind your head without catching your hair in between it.

You trusted him. Yet it was difficult for you to relax especially since, all of a sudden, you heard a familiar loud bussing sound again.

‘No no no, this vibrator is too intense. I never….oh my fucking god’ you moaned as you threw your head back into the pillow and arched your back as soon as the vibrator hit your clit through your thin cotton panties.

‘Fuck that’s sexy’ Cillian observed as he watched you squirm against your restraints and moan as he moved the vibrator over your clit in circle motions.

‘Don’t move’ he then chuckled as he placed the vibrator onto your clit and resting the handle on your stomach. You felt the weight on your bed lightening and heard him get up, walking away from you momentarily.

‘Fuck Cillian…don’t leave me like this’ you protested just before you heard the door of the fridge opening. What was he doing? Getting himself a beer?

Then, finally, you could feel his weight on the mattress again, right next to you.

His hands began to roam over your breasts and stomach while he pushed the wand back against your clit more firmly after tuning it up a notch.

‘No no no….oh god’ you moaned, your legs squirming.

‘If you do not stay still on your own, I will tie your legs up too’ Cillian said cheekily before pulling on each of your nipple piercings slightly. He knew that you loved it when he did this, subjecting you to this little bit of pain.

You inhaled sharply, wanting him to pull them again, but Cillian had other ideas and it wasn’t long until you felt something extremely cold on your left nipple.

‘Fuck, Cillian’ you moaned as ice cold water began to run down your left breast while he turned up the setting of the vibrator again.

The ice cold feeling soon moved to your right nipple, running down from it over your stomach like a cold stream of water. By this time it was obvious to you that it was an ice cube which Cillian had placed into his mouth and which he was running over your breasts.

You could feel it melt slowly and the cold water ran all the way to your belly button followed by his hot breath.

Then, you could feel the entire ice cube slid down your stomach and all the way to the hem of your panties while, again, Cillian turned up the vibrator, reaching its highest setting.

‘Holy Christ’ you inhaled, trying as hard as you could to stay still.

You were close to climaxing and Cillian had to hold you down, securing your thighs so that you were unable to squirm away.

‘Oh fuck yes’ you screamed as, finally, your orgasm washed over you and you had no choice but to give into the sensation.

It was at this point that you heard a knock on the wall from the apartment beside yours, causing Cillian to chuckle as you had told him about the letter you received from your neighbour last week complaining about the noise level from your apartment when Cillian visited you the last time.

You eventually came down from your high and Cillian released his tight grip on you and turned off the vibrator before taking off your blindfolds and untying you from the bed.

‘Feeling better?’ he asked and, surprisingly, you did.

With a quick nod and thanks, you pulled Cillian on top of you for a passionate kiss before pushing him down onto the mattress beneath you.

Without words, you looked at him and suggestively bit your lips before reaching for his black Calvin Klein briefs and pulling them down.

‘You know I just love your cock…it’s fucking perfect’ you smirked as you starred at his erection before separating his legs, bending his knees up and taking your place between them.

Cillian scooted himself up in the bed so that he could watch you and you leaned forward to kiss him, loving and deep, before making your decent on his perfectly toned body.

When you finally reached his hard shaft, you kissed the tip of his cock suggestively before collecting his precum with your tongue.

Cillian’s hands knew what to do to help you now and he gathered up your hair and hold it out of the way as you lowered your head and take his cock into your mouth, moaning as your mouth is filled.

Cillian groaned as you finally took all of his length into your mouth and down your throat. You wanted to devour him and you took your time about it, pleasure slowly building, pressure teased and growing as you kept bobbing your head up and down.

Looking up at him while you wrapped your lips around his hard member turned him on incredibly and it didn’t take long for his breathing to become laboured.

By this point, his legs straighten, splayed out on either side of you while the frequency of his moans and groans increased.

You knew Cillian was getting close and you loved watching him moan with a slightly open mouth while you slowly and deliberately wrap your lips tightly on the head of his cock and take him deep into your throat again, all the way to the base.

Your eyes close on their own with the sensation and greed you feel and each time you rise you look into Cillian’s deep blue eyes, stopping to let him watch as you flick your tongue all over his frenulum and swollen pink tip.

His face suddenly changed and his mouth contorts. Cillian’s hands tighten, no longer simply holding your long hair out of the way but gripping your head with handfuls of your hair in both hands right at the scalp. He took control, pushing your head down hard, his cock filling your throat before letting go of you again.

‘Again’ you moaned, loving the way he takes charge and he complied with your request, grabbing your hair again and making you take his length all the way into your throat.

‘Fuck Y/N, I am close’ he moaned and, with him thrusting into your mouth and you bobbing your head at the same time, it wasn’t long until you felt it, the unmistakable spurt of cum into your mouth as his body is finally released.

You could taste him, feeling the slick cream on your tongue, holding it in your mouth as you milk the last drops. Then looking up, you see Cillian’s beautiful sexy smile and flushed cheeks, open your mouth and show him the cum pooled on your tongue.

Another groan escaped him as he watched you hold it, tilting your head back slightly while some drips escaped you and ran over your chin.

Looking at his face, completely turned on by what you were doing, you smiled wickedly and very deliberately closed your lips, looked at him, and swallowed.

‘God, why are you so fucking sexy?’ Cillian asked just as you moved up towards him and pressed your lips onto his.

‘I don’t know, I just am’ you winked before sharing another passionate kiss while his hands were roaming over your back.

After some pillow talk, you eventually curled up against Cillian, running your fingers through his chest hair while his right hand gently touched your cheek.

It didn’t take either of you long to fall asleep and you were still curled up against each other the next morning when you heard a loud knock on the door.

***Meeting June***

‘Will we ever be able to just wake up next to each other without being interrupted?’ Cillian growled as he turned over, ignoring the knock on the door completely. He was clearly not a morning person.

You jumped up quickly and threw on Cillian’s t-shirt which, the night before, had found it’s way to the floor besides your bed.

Wearing nothing but the t-shirt, some purple cotton panties and giant plush socks with small bunny rabbits on it, you walked to the door and opened it, thinking that, surely, it was just a delivery. Your local postman had a habit of arriving early and you were considering getting a postal box soon.

‘Good Morning Sis’ June said and it took you a few seconds to rub your eyes yawn before realising that you probably shouldn’t let her inside with Cillian lying in your bed completely naked.

But your sister didn’t ask for permission and barged inside, putting a bag of croissants and two coffees on to the kitchen counter.

‘What are you doing here?’ you asked surprised as she hung up her coat.

‘I know how shit you feel when you get your period and you didn’t come by the other night so I wanted to check on you, that’s all’ June explained just as she was walking through your loft, not having noticed Cillian yet as part of the view of the bed was covered by a large industrial style bookshelf.

‘Now is not a very good time’ you said nervously which was when she noticed clothes scattered across the floor.

‘Oh shit’ she giggled just before she bluntly looked past the large bookshelf.

‘Morning June’ Cillian chuckled just as he reached down to the floor to retrieve his briefs before pulling them beneath the doona and trying to discretely put them back on.

‘Holy fuck’ June shouted, her jaw dropping to the floor.

‘Jupp, swearing runs in the family’ Cillian chuckled before getting up from beneath the doona, wearing nothing but his black Calvin Klein briefs.

With a grin on his face, he walked over towards you and gave you a quick kiss before taking your coffee from your hand, taking a sip and telling you that he will go and have a quick shower.

He quickly retrieved his jeans from the floor and disappeared into the bathroom all while your sister’s eyes followed his every move.

‘Stop looking at him’ you demanded, giving your sister a nudge as it was obvious to you that she was checking out Cillian’s ass.

‘How the fuck did this happen? Did I just dream this?’ she asked as you were shyly drinking your coffee with some embarrassment, unsure how to answer her question.

‘Oh my god, he is the guy you were telling me about. This all makes sense now’ June said and you confirmed her suspicions and told her that you’ve resolved your differences.

You trusted your sister and told her about what you had discussed with Cillian the night before and that you were at his house, which is why you cancelled on her.

Eventually, Cillian came out of the bathroom, wearing his tight black jeans but not much else.

Your sister looked at him with some excitement, not even ashamed for drooling over the man you were involved with.

You noticed immediately, giving her another nudge just as Cillian stole the rest of your coffee.

‘Can you put your shirt on please’ you eventually said before handing Cillian one of the croissants and the jam from your fridge.

‘Well, I would, but you are wearing it’ Cillian reminded you, unbothered by the fact that your sister was in the same room.

You quickly disappeared behind the bookshelf and changed into your own clothes before handing Cillian his t-shirt and your sister sighed with some disappointment as he put it on.

Despite the fact that he had met your sister already, he felt somewhat awkward with your sister around and, after putting on his t-shirt, he left your apartment in order to get some more coffees, allowing you to update your sister on the situation.

While he was out, waiting for his coffee order at the nearby coffee shop, he received a call from his agent drawing his attention to a quite unfavourable article which had just appeared online, less than 30 minutes ago.

**************

OK! Magazine News

Cillian Murphy following the Hollywood Trend?

Rumours have emerged suggesting a developing relationship between actor Cillian Murphy (43) and singer/songwriter Y/N L/N (23). This comes after Murphy has only last month been spotted at a Dublin fundraising event with long term girlfriend Amanda Winter and L/N was rumoured to be involved with local artist Kirsten Mann after having been spotted leaving Soho Bar together as little as three nights ago.

Music producer Kurt Meskin confirmed the break up from singer and songwriter girlfriend Y/N L/N earlier yesterday and revealed that the break up was due to a romance unfolding between Y/N L/N and actor Cillian Murphy. It is unclear how Kirsten Mann is involved and Meskin wasn’t able to comment on Mann’s relationship with L/N’s.

Murphy and L/N have been working together with others, including Meskin, on the United Arts and Music Festival since earlier this year. The festival is set to take place later this year and will feature L/N as well as Murphy’s long term girlfriend Amanda Winter.

Meskin said that he was saddened by L/N’s actions but has accepted her decision.

‘There is not much I can do. Unfortunately, these things happen but it’s simply sad to know that not only one, but two relationships have been destroyed by her actions’ Meskin said when referring to what sounds like an affair between L/N and Murphy.

It is not clear whether Murphy and Winter have since separated but it appears to be likely as L/N and Murphy were spotted in front of Le Maison Restaurant in Dublin late yesterday evening.

The picture appeared on Twitter shortly after the date night between Murphy and L/N and has since received a large number of comments as fans question what happened with Amanda Winter and criticise the twenty year ago gap between Murphy and L/N.

“Perhaps he’s following into the footsteps of other Hollywood actors like DiCaprio who like their girlfriends much younger” one person commented on Twitter.

Neither L/N or Murphy have commented on the rumours but, with L/N’s social media presence, it is probably just a matter of time until a statement is received.

Tag List (Cillian):

@lilymurphy03 @deefigs @theflamecrystal @desperate-and-broken @weepingstudentfishhorse @livinginfantaxy @rosey1981 @atomicsoulcollecto @peakyboyslover @nerdy4itall @elenavampire21 @hanster1998 @mariapaiva13 @fairypitou @harry-is-my-sunflower @zozeebo @lauren-raines-x @kasaikawa @littlewierdalien @sad-huffle-nerd @theflamecrystal @peakymalfoyscullymulder @themissthang @0ghostwriter0 @stylescanbeatmyback @1-800-peakyblinders @datewithgianni @momoneymolife @ntmynouis @lilymurphy03 @mcntsee@cloudofdisney @missymurphy1985 @peakymalfoyscullymulder @otterly-fey janelongxox @uchihacumdump

Cannot Tag (please check your settings):

@l0tsofpennies @margoo0 @trolleydolly @avonlady1985 @chrisevanshoeee @daydreamingnymph @fookingshelby @chocolatehalo

#cillian murphy #cillian murphy smut #Cillian Murphy x Reader #cillian murphy imagine #cillian murphy x you #cillian murphy x y/n

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youvebeenlivingfictional · 4 years ago

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The Long Con Part Five

Previous Part | Masterlist | Next Part Pairing: Marcus Pike x Reader Rating: T Notes: I hope y’all had a good week! 💕 Warnings: This is almost purely fluff. There’s some angst in there, but it’s just, like...A speck. And it’s covered over by fluff. Also I’ve never been to Austin, I did a lot of Googling for this bit, so if any of it is inaccurate, I’m sorry!! It seems like such a cool town and I don’t wanna do it a disservice! Lastly, I linked the museum and the art pieces mentioned in the chapter at the end of the chapter, under the tags. Summary: You’d stayed behind to get ready— but you didn’t know what exactly what you were be getting ready for.

While you and Marcus would be helping Marnie and the family out with wedding prep during the week, they didn’t have anything in particular scheduled for that day. After he’d had his breakfast, Marcus had showered, gotten dressed, and left to get the car that he’d rented for two of you to use that week. You’d stayed behind to get ready— but you didn’t know what exactly what you were be getting ready for. “I wanna show you around while we’ve got some time,” Marcus had told you between stealing sips of your coffee (which were solely permitted because the two of you were pretending to be together - if this had been under any other circumstance, he would not have gotten away with a single sip. His parents had found it adorable. You had found it a loss of coffee).

You dressed in casual clothing, things that you knew you’d have no trouble walking around in for the day. Marcus honked twice once he was outside in the rental, and you bid quick goodbyes to his family.

-- “So,” Marcus glanced over at you from behind the dark lenses of his aviator sunglasses, “We have a few options-- well, we’ve got a ton, but, I was thinking we could take a tour of the Capitol building, and check out the Harry Ransom Center -- it’s this massive archive and library. There are a few places we could hit for lunch, and then… I don’t know, the Lady Bird Johnson Wildflower Center? And I thought we could finish with the Blanton Museum of Art?... Or is that, like, a no, since we’re both kinda around art all the time?” You watched him for a few moments, stunned. He’d clearly gone out of his way to think about what you’d like to do -- places that he knew and that you would like. He wanted you to have fun, and time out of the house - away from his family. Marcus was taking you out and about like… Like he probably would a real girlfriend. “That all sounds really awesome,” You admitted softly. Marcus grinned at you, and you settled back in your seat, facing forward again. -- Conversation came as easily as it had when you were in D.C. Marcus dropped the odd fact about Austin now and again (though it was nothing near his panicked post-flight info-dump), pointed out his old haunts, told you about his and Marnie’s childhoods. Even without his family around, you found that the two of you kept close. You reached for one another’s hands; Marcus drew you into his side when you were in crowded places; even when there was plenty of room, Marcus’ hand was on your shoulder, or your back. The contact was comforting; it didn’t feel forced. You found yourselves strolling through the Blanton with your fingers intertwined, speaking in hushed tones so as not to disturb the patrons around you. It was where the two of you wound up spending most of your day, discussing Fogel’s Conflict and Kern’s The Adoration of the Magi and Dorigny’s Diana of the Hunt. When you drifted into the Klimt pieces on loan from the Belvedere Museum in Vienna, and the two of you stopped in front of The Kiss, Marcus cupped your chin and leaned down, pecking the corner of your lips. You couldn’t help the stupid grin that took over your face, and you leaned into him, turning your head and hiding your face in his shoulder.

He just curled an arm around you, smoothing a thumb along your side as you let your sheepishness run its course. You turned your head as it ebbed away, finally, taking in the intertwined lovers, robed in gold and adorned with flowers.

��Okay, this… Is stupidly cool,” You admitted, looking around. “I was a little worried that you were going to stop at ‘stupid’.” “No!” You laughed, “I’ve never been anywhere like this.” Marcus had brought you to a bar with an arcade in Southern Congress for dinner. The two of you had ordered dinner and were looking for a few games to play before the food arrived. “They’ve got a little bit of everything. Pinball, Pac-man, Tron, Skeeball,” Marcus listed off. “Galaga?” “They’ve got Galaga.” “Perfect.” Marcus was exceptional at Pac-man and pinball, but you learned that you had the upper hand when it came to air hockey. You managed to play two games of it (both of which you won) before the food came. “Today has all been insanely awesome,” You told him after you’d polished off your pizza, “Thank you. I mean-- Seriously, you didn’t have to do this.” “I didn’t want you feeling like we were stuck at my family’s place all week, and...I mean I know we’re down here for Marnie, but you said you’d never been to Austin. I didn’t want you to miss out on seeing the city.” You and Marcus shared a smile before he added, “The whole day has been insanely awesome, huh?” “Yeah.” “Even in the kitchen?” “You mean when you were drinking my coffee? ‘Cause that put you on thin ice, mister.” “Right before that,” He corrected. The smile he was giving you was two parts bashfulness and one part coy. You folded one arm on the table, pillowing your chin on your other hand. “...Yeah, I’d include that. As first kisses go, it was…” You nodded a little, eyeing Marcus from under your lashes, “It was very...Very nice.” “‘Very nice’?” Marcus repeated, “I guess that’s not the worst review I’ve ever gotten.” “Don’t get all huffy,” You chuckled, ”I mean it, it was… I forgot what being kissed like that even felt like.” “What do you mean?” “I mean that...Was my first kiss in two years.” “Two-- How is that possible?” Marcus’ brow furrowed. You rolled your eyes a little bit, glancing away from Marcus as embarrassment swirled in your stomach. “The last person was my ex-fiancé. After that fell apart…” You shrugged, “I haven’t dated since.” You felt Marcus lean a little closer to get a better look at you. “Did you give up on finding someone?” “Not on purpose. I think I just...Built up some walls that I had torn down really quickly with them. And I built those walls up double. I prioritized work-- the devil I knew, you know.” “No dates, nothing?” “Nope.” “How many people did you turn down?” “What makes you think I turned anyone down?” Marcus tipped his head to the side, giving you a slight once-over as he muttered, “C’mon.” You shook your head, letting out a quiet, embarrassed laugh. “Well, how long after your engagement broke did you wait to date?” You asked. Marcus’ lips pressed into a thin, contemplative line before he admitted, “Five months.” “What made you get back out there? I mean… How’d you know you were ready?” “I wasn’t, but I was worried that if I waited until I was, the woman that had asked me out wouldn’t be available when I got there. I took a leap. It wasn’t a good leap, but it was a leap,” he chuckled, “And it made me remember that dating can suck and putting myself out there could be scary, but… Ultimately, it’s worth it.” You and Marcus regarded one another quietly for a moment. You couldn't even imagine what he was thinking. You couldn't understand how he was still so open to finding love when he'd been hurt the way he had. That sort of loss had only made you want to recede; it seemed to make Marcus even more determined to find love. Frankly, it was a wonder that he hadn't yet— he was the kindest man you'd ever met. You lowered your eyes to your empty plate as you realized that you were staring. It was easy to get caught up in his warm eyes; you’d found it happening more often lately, and it certainly suited the purposes of the lie you were playing up around his family. But there was something about all of it— his gaze, his smile, everything that the two of you had done today — it stirred up twinges or remorse. Lately you’d found yourself wondering if there ever could’ve been something real between the two of you, if you’d met under different circumstances. That was a very dangerous line of thought.

“If you’re finished with your food, we can go play some more air hockey.” You smiled at the offer, glancing back up at him as you asked, “I didn’t kick your ass enough the first time?” “Oh-- I was just warming up.” “Clocking all of my moves?” “Exactly.” “We’ll see about that.” (You beat him three more times.) (You let him win once.)

You flicked off the light before getting into bed, tucking yourself in beside Marcus. He yawned and mumbled, “G’night.” “Goodnight, what?” Marcus let out an exaggerated sigh, “Goodnight, supreme air hockey winner.” “Thank you.” “Mhm.” “I don’t ask for much.” “I know.” “Just that you steer clear of my coffee—” “Uh huh.” “And address me by my proper title.” You glanced over as you felt Marcus shift in the bed. Your breath caught in your throat as his arm wound around your middle, his hand dangling against your side as he rested his forehead against your shoulder. “Sleep,” He urged in a mumble, “Oh supreme one.” You settled down, resting one of your hands atop Marcus’ arm. It was a warm, comforting weight; a sweet touch that you could, if you weren’t careful, find yourself getting used to. “‘Oh supreme one’,” You repeated quietly, peering up at the ceiling, “I could get used to that.” Tag list: @hufflepuffing-all-day-long ; @spideysimpossiblegirl ; @blueeyesatnight ; @elen-aranel ; @yespolkadotkitty ; @artsymaddie ; @phoenixhalliwell ; @lunaserenade ; @winniedaboo ; @empress-palpat1ne ; @randomness501 ; @nutmeg-20 ; @leonieb ; @the-feckless-wonder ; @lou-la-lou ; @captain-jebi ; @supernaturalgirl ; @naturenebula21 ; @evelynseventyr ; @giselatropicana ; @heatherbel ; @marydjarin ; @annathewitch ; @absurdthirst ; @hnt-escape ; @writingletterstothefire ; @misswriter ; @bison-writes

Museums & Art Work

The Blanton Museum of Art

Fogel’s Conflict

Kern’s The Adoration of the Magi

Dorigny’s Diana of the Hunt The Belvedere Museum

Klimt’s The Kiss

#The Long Con #marcus pike imagine #marcus pike x reader #Marcus Pike x You #Marcus Pike/Reader #Marcus Pike/You #Marcus Pike fic

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rosynanapen26 · 3 years ago

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I wasn't supposed to post this chapter now but I had more energy to think about what to write so I gave it a go. 😙 The chapter is longer too! 🤗💕💕💕💕 Hope you'll enjoy it.

I should really do the character digitally after my Lord Dimitrescu art. I keep forgetting about it. 😫😅

Chapter Two

Your nose wiggled, feeling something touching it. You scrunched it before opening your amber eyes, meeting your sister's, centimeters from your face.

You smiled. "Good morning Bela." Not fazed by the closeness.

"Good morning baby sister." She smirked, letting go of the side so you could get up from the bed.

You pouted playfully. "I'm not a baby anymore. No need to keep calling me by that surname."

She changed into flies and reappeared behind your shoulder. "But where is the fun in that?" Bela walked toward the door. "Mother wants you to accompagny her in the Lord reunion. You shouldn't keep her waiting."

You thanked her and you were alone again in your room. One of the last maids alive came to dress you. She helped you with your favorite dress, a present from your mother that you cherish a lot. Doing your hair in long braids and ajusting your veil on your head. You thanked her before descending the stairs to the main hall. What happened in your dream came flooding in your mind but you tried to push it out. You didn't need that right now.

Your mother was standing in all her beauty with a neutral expression next to the castle door. Her expression warmed up when she saw your petite figure. She hated these meetings and felt awful to leave her precious daughters since the cold temperature was a treat to their lives, but you were there at least and Lady Dimitrescu knew her older girls could defend themselves perfectly.

You were more fragile. The Cadou gave you eternal life like the rest of them, but you had no shown abilities for a long time. You were like this since you had four years old. You were as vulnerable as a mortal soul compared to your family. She wouldn't let nobody touch you.

No one.

"Shall we go, mother?" You asked her sweetly. Her hands passed behind you, putting a delicately crafted shawl. You hold on to it with a smile.

"Yes." You hold her hand and followed to the old church.

✴ ✴ ✴ ✴

You arrived early as usual. Nobody was there except a man sitting on the bench in a comfortable manner, or non-manner as your mother would called it, with his hammer twice his side next to him. His eyes were hid by smoked glasses. The man tipped his hat. "Do you always need to be this early?"

Your mother looked disgusted since you two entered the church, but his presence seemed to turn her even more agressive. "Do you always need to ask such foolish questions, brother." She snarled at the last word.

"I'll never think about that." He responded sarcastically.

"You stupid-"

You grabbed her arm gently with a concerned expression. "Mother, you should sit. This conversation will get you nowhere."

Her anger faded after watching you. "Always so mindful." The Lady thought. She looked one last time at the man in the room before the woman sat down.

You sat down next to your mother, staying close to her as they still bicker with eachothers. It wasn't long until Lord Donna and Moreau came, both going at their respectable seat. Mother Miranda finally followed some time later.

You all watched silently but something was different.

She was holding a small child. The same one you were rocking in your dream.

"I am delighted to tell you my children," She looked at you. "and grandchild, that the researches have come to fruition. This one shall be the perfect vessel for my child to revived from the dead. The ceremony will be soon and I expect you five to be ready."

You were too closed up in your mind that you didn't pay attention at your called name. "Adeilena." Surprised, you got up rapidly and nearly tripped over your robes.

"Yes?" Your eyes casted down with your hands intertwined. "Mother Miranda."

"Come closer my dear." The woman was smiling but it seemed cold. You never felt comfortable in her presence. You just wanted to run to your mother embrace again and hide.

Your amber eyes were still on the ground, looking at each peebles and you felt each pair of eyes on you.

"Look at me."

Confused, you did so and were met with the newborn in her arms. You immediately gazed to the woman who held it. "I remember when you were so small. You had the luck on your side and kept your apparence appart from your eyes. You found eternal life too, but still so fragile."

You didn't know what she was coming up with that. It felt strange. For a moment, you couldn't help but gazed behind you where a certain male was sitting. He send you a smirk before you turned around, pink on your cheeks. You hoped nobody saw that, especially your mother.

"While the ceremony has to wait, I want you to guard the vessel."

She passed you the child. You placed her in your arms, hoping she was comfortable. Her eyes opened slowly and looked into your own as a small giggle left her. You eyes widened at the sound. Your body warm. You were already feeling attached to this baby.

"I know you are delicate and will sure be able to protect her from the father."

You stopped looking at the one in your embrace, your eyes on Mother Miranda again. "The father?" You didn't thought about her family still be alive. You thought-

The woman gazed up suddenly, not moving an inch.

"He's here."

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shrinkyclinksfest · 3 years ago

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That's a wrap!

Thank you all so much for another successful run of Shrinkyclinks Fest! Altogether the works add up to 150K words of new Shrinkyclinks content and six new artworks! We want to thank all our wonderful writers, artists, promoters, promoters, readers, and supporters. We will see you all next year!

Without further ado, the Masterlist:

Title: Nazi Punks Fuck Off [Shrinkyclinks AU] Creator: bleedxblack Medium (fic, art, podfic, etc.): digital art Rating: G Prompt #: 22 Warnings: N/A Summary: Local punk Steve Rogers goes to see his hardcore vocalist boyfriend, Bucky, perform with his band, Widow. Friend and guitarist Natasha took the first photo of them after the band had finished their set. Steve took the following photo himself while he watched his friends and lover play on stage.

Link to work: https://archiveofourown.org/works/33271081

Title: Steve has hot guy problems Creator: HeyBoy Medium (fic, art, podfic, etc.): digital art Rating: T Prompt #: 33 Warnings: N/A Summary: For the ShrinkyClinks Fest prompt: Meet-cute at the gym! Smol Steve is determined to work on his cardio and fitness. He reluctantly goes to the gym, feeling intimidated but ready to spit fire at anyone who so much as looks at him twice. He is going to get a good workout, damnit. Ignore the clunkheads. Ignore the gym rats. Ignore the super hot guy with long hair and stormy eyes who always seems to be using the equipment near Steve. That wasn't so bad! Now we can shower and go home. Wait, hot guy is also in the shower and… he's singing. WAIT hot guy just exited the shower and now he knows that I know he was singing!.

Link to work: https://archiveofourown.org/works/33271468

Title: asthma attacks, fire escapes, and chai Creator: beemotionpicture Medium: fic Rating: gen Wordcount: 6,657 Prompt #: 9 Warnings: none Summary: It happens because of his asthma of all things.

As soon as he feels short of breath he starts rooting through his messenger bag for his inhaler. Steve has a moment to think aha!and then fuck,before he’s losing his grip on the thing and it’s skidding across the pavement and into an alleyway.

He freezes when he realizes he’s not alone.

Steve hears a muffled sound coming from behind the dumpster, but that’s not what makes him look; no, it’s the metallic scent in the air which, with a creeping feeling of dread, he hopes isn’t blood. He looks. It’s blood.

And there’s a man sitting right in a puddle of it, leaning heavily against the brick wall and clutching his side with a metal hand.

How Steve finds an injured Bucky, nurses him back to health, and takes down a HYDRA agent while he’s at it. Link to work: https://archiveofourown.org/works/33272239

Title: Highway Ghost Creator: Neonbat Fic Rating: E Wordcount : 15820 Prompt #: 31 Warnings: Usual WS Bucky warnings Summary: Steve hated long drives, it was too easy to zone out, especially when you’re full of cook-out food and good times. Having someone fall out of nowhere right in front of his car wasn’t exactly something he’d ever consider a possibility. He had enough excitement already from his job as an ER Nurse. Except, where most people would have been laid out on the asphalt, the man dressed in black got up without a scratch and insisted medical care wasn’t needed. The fuck was his life? Link to work: https://archiveofourown.org/works/33283738

Title: He "Accidently" Picked A Hot Roommate Creator: rufferto Medium: digital art Rating: G Prompt #: 48 Warnings: N/A Summary: Steve needs a roommate. He thinks he will never find one but then he meets Winter Soldier Bucky who needs a place to stay while he recovers. Steve offers him the room immediately and it turns out Bucky is a great roommate. Link to work: https://archiveofourown.org/works/33279370

Title: special delivery Creator: @glim / glim Medium: fic Rating: Teen + Wordcount: ~6,000 words Prompt #: 30 Warnings: n/a Summary: Written for shrinkyclinksfest, Prompt #30: Steve Rogers has always been prone to sickness, but summer colds are the absolute worst. What he wants is a huge bowl of chicken noodle soup and some ice cream. What he gets is a food delivery guy who’s so built and hot Steve chokes on his tongue. That’s why he keeps ordering long after he’s recovered and how he finally gets Bucky Barnes into his apartment and his bed. Link to work: https://archiveofourown.org/works/33343828

Title: When the Pool Closes Creator: buckybarnesdeservestobehappy Fic Rating: T Wordcount : 1858 Prompt #: 36 Warnings: N/A Summary: Steve just wants to enjoy a day out in the sun by himself. That’s not too much to ask. Except it is, apparently. With such fair skin, sunscreen is a must, and there’s no way he can reach his entire back. He’s just going to have to find someone to help him apply it, and if the guy is ripped… Well, it’s not Steve’s fault that he’s got good taste. Link to work: https://archiveofourown.org/works/33341596

Title: To the Future and the Past Creator: buckybarnesdeservestobehappy Fic Rating: T Wordcount : 1465 Prompt #: 40 Warnings: Major character death Summary: Maybe a funeral isn’t the right time to admit to a gay love story, but Bucky doesn’t care. That’s what Steve wanted, and Bucky’s never been able to say no to the love of his life. Link to work: https://archiveofourown.org/works/33358726

Title: A Shot Across The Bow Creator: Author: Becassine Artist: Call_me_kayyyyy Art Rating: G Fic Rating: E Wordcount : 18382 Prompt #: 52 Warnings: Blood/Injury, Implied/Reference Abuse, Reference Slave Trade Summary: Bucky Barnes is a Pirate Captain, and one accustomed to getting his own way. When fate drops Steve Rogers in his path one lonely evening in Tortuga, his life is forever turned upside down. Link to work: https://archiveofourown.org/works/33265450/chapters/82597747

Title: Sometime, anytime, sugar me sweet Creator: Girl_Back_There Medium: Fic Rating: Mature Wordcount: 6214 Prompt #: 45 Warnings: Some Homophobic Language, Instances of Sexual Harassment against women Summary:Bucky doesn’t know how his mother managed to Jedi mind trick him into dropping off Becca at summer camp this year, but she somehow did it. Despite his grumpiness at the unreasonable hour in which he was wrenched from his nice and cozy bed, Bucky is glad for this time with his little sister. Becca spends their time talking about the activities she got to do last summer that she hopes will be back again this year, all of which was organized by Steve Rogers. After she came home from Camp Marvel last year, all Becca could talk about was Steve Rogers, one of the counselors for her team, The Howlies. Steve Rogers was an amazing artist. Steve Rogers participates in all of the competitions despite his asthma, scoliosis, heart arrhythmia, and various other medical issues. Steve Rogers totally drinks his respect women juice. Bucky would be worried about his sister may be developing a crush on this Steve guy, but after meeting him, Bucky is more preoccupied with the crush he's developing on Steve. So preoccupied in fact, he ends up signing on to be a camp counselor for the summer. Link to work:https://archiveofourown.org/works/33339220

Title: The Way To A Man’s Heart Creator: Author: HaniTrash Artist: Kocuria_visuals Art Rating: T Fic Rating: E Wordcount : 11852 Prompt #: 53 Warnings: N/A Summary: Steve Rogers, skinny Brooklynite, is a college student who makes old recipes and posts videos of them on tiktok. When Bucky Barnes, Winter Soldier and Avenger, sees one, he's instantly hooked and becomes Steve's biggest fan. What follows next is a story of food, flirting, and a very unlikely pairing. But much like Steve’s unusual recipes, what shouldn’t work often does… Link to work: https://archiveofourown.org/works/33312223/chapters/82722664#workskin

Title: Maybe A Muse Creator: buckybarnesdeservestobehappy Medium (fic, art, podfic, etc.): fic Rating: M Wordcount: 2871 Prompt #: 28 Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Summary: When Bucky Barnes needs extra money, he’s appalled that his best friends think he should become a model for the art department on campus. Shy, nerdy, and socially awkward, he’s not sure that’s something he feels comfortable doing. Still, he needs money, and he likes the idea of becoming someone’s muse. The problem is he had no idea two things would happen. First, one of the students in the class is exactly his type; second, he has to model nude. Link to work: https://archiveofourown.org/works/33393928

Title: Be My Breath Creator: Goosenik and clarkestetler Medium: Fic Rating: Teen and Up Wordcount: 44,575 Prompt #: 48 Warnings: N/A Summary: For the Shrinkyclinks Fest 2021 prompt: Steve needs a roommate. He thinks he will never find one but then he meets Winter Soldier Bucky who needs a place to stay while he recovers. Steve offers him the room immediately and it turns out Bucky is a great roommate.

Basically: Bucky moves in with Steve after he escapes from Hydra, and Steve begins the long process of helping Bucky remember how to be human again. Link to work: https://archiveofourown.org/works/33275848/chapters/82626394

Title: Tap-Tap Into Your Heart Creator: huntress79 Medium: Fic Rating: T Wordcount: 5k Prompt #: 6 Warnings: none, except for one blink-and-you’ll-miss-it mention of animal death Summary: When HYDRA finally fell, the Soldier was lost, in more than one meaning. And for the next several months, he, more or less, drifted from one former safehouse to the other, always avoiding to stay too long in one place. Until he comes to Brooklyn - and finds a new purpose, again in more than one meaning… Link to work: https://archiveofourown.org/works/33416524

Title: I'd be selfish but never with you Creator: Lacunalady on Ao3 Medium: Fic Rating: E Wordcount: 20k Prompt #: 32 Warnings: No archive warnings apply Summary: Prompted with: "Arranged marriage AU. Steve is a prince and Bucky is a newly crowned king of the neighboring country having conquered/overtaken the last ruler. In order to keep the peace between their countries, Steve's father decides for them to wed. Steve is reluctant for several reasons but mainly because he wants to marry for love and the fact that Bucky has a reputation for being exceedingly ruthless in battle (aka the winter solider)" by Bangyababy on Tumblr! Link to work: https://archiveofourown.org/works/33424936

Title: Just Peachy Creator: Erosanderis Fic Rating: N/A Wordcount : 1266 Prompt #: 34 Warnings: N/A Summary: Steve Rogers was not looking forward to meeting his soulmate. Ever since the day he was born, he had the worst possible words on his forearm. So of course he would meet them at work. Link to work: https://archiveofourown.org/works/33412060

Title: Knocking Boots with Sugar Creator: buckybarnesdeservestobehappy Fic Rating: E Wordcount : 4095 Prompt #: 29 Warnings: N/A Summary: In between summers at college, Steve Rogers wants a new adventure beyond his lonely life in Brooklyn. He ends up in West Texas working on a dude ranch where Bucky Barnes is a long-time employee. When Bucky offers to buy Steve a drink, they end up drunk on tequila and making out in public. For the rest of the summer, they're inseparable. As the summer draws to a close, Steve realizes he doesn't want to leave. Link to work: https://archiveofourown.org/works/33499603

#shrinkyclinks fest 2021 #masterpost 2021 #shrinkyclinks #stucky #stucky fic #stucky fanart

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clearlynotjanus · 4 years ago

Photo

Moceit Appreciation Week :: Baking

Read on Ao3

Art by @nonchimerical

tag list: @sanderssidesangsttrash @catalinaacosta @whatishappeningrightnow @the-snekwhisperer-world @varthandi @the-dead-and-the-decaying @serpentinesomebody

CW: Food mention, moral ambiguity Word Count: 2327 Genre: Hurt/Comfort Rating: Gen Ships: Moceit, implied if you squint Dukeceit

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The flower shaped cookies sat mockingly on the stove, having long gone cold. Two tubs of white frosting had been placed on the counter with some food dye as well. Many times he had second guessed the unassuming vials of concentrated hue--was it too much? Just as many times he had stood, picked up a frosting container, rolled it in his hands, picked at the aluminum before convincing himself not to peel it back, not to sink his finger in, not to cope with Janus’ absence by consuming a gluttonous amount of sugar.

He’ll show, of course he would. Janus hadn’t forgotten or … ditched him like that before. Just because he was preoccupied with something beforehand doesn’t mean he was forcing himself to come, forcing himself to spend time with him, indulging him, patronizing him … Janus would never, he enjoyed stuff like this! Even if … even if it was just for the sweets.

“Oh dear,” Patton inhaled between his sugar-coated teeth, shaking his head down at the demolished tub of vanilla frosting.

“Am I interrupting?” Patton jumped, hiding the nearly empty container behind his back, looking exactly like Pooh Bear after a honey binge, Janus thought.

“Janus!” Patton greeted, a little too much excitement and anxiety in his voice. “N-no, of course not, I was just,” He faltered, glancing at the cookies like they held an easier way of saying, I was waiting for you, thanks for not breaking my heart.

“...Testing the frosting?” Janus teased, easing into the kitchen, amusement sly on his lips.

“Yeah! Something, hah, something like that.” Patton chuckled down at the floor, a shoulder shrugging as he apprehensively brought the evidence forward. He weighed it nervously in one hand before grinning at Janus. “I guess it’s a good thing we had two containers!”

“Mm,” He hummed down at his hands as he peeled his gloves off. A rare occurrence of course, but having spent plenty of time baking together, one Patton had at least slightly adjusted to. A patch of shiny scales that spread from Janus’ left knuckle up to his wrist gleamed with the movement of folding his gloves neatly on the counter. Occupied with the curiosity Patton felt observing something so … pretty, he didn’t notice Janus reaching with a bare thumb to wipe away a sizable glob of sugar from the side of Patton’s mouth until the sensation jogged him out of thought. Janus looked down at it before placing it between his own teeth. Despite the way Patton’s mouth gaped, Janus continued to delicately scrape the sugar onto his tongue. “A good thing, indeed.” He smirked at Patton, satisfied with watching the glow of his grin quickly turn into a scarlet blush.

“Y-yeah,” Patton breathed, absolutely dumbstruck as Janus turned towards the stove. Relieved at no longer being scrutinized so closely, his head fell; cool palms pressed to his burning cheeks and a ragged breath was pulled in as quietly as he could manage. Dully he registered the sound of bowls being placed on the counter, but they didn’t make sense through the ringing in his ears.

His thoughts raced in circles as he tried to decode the meaning behind that flirtatious gesture. Patton wasn’t stupid of course, but he was an expert at assuming far too much of others’ words and actions; a pro at falling in love with basic kindness. The habit made him think at least four times over about everything ever since Thomas’ last heart crushing break up. Janus had to know that, right? And if he did, that made him really mean, didn’t it? Why then, did Patton enjoy it so much?

“...cold now, the frosting will be easier, right?” Janus paused for Patton to answer, setting the dye vials next to some arbitrarily chosen bowls. When the other didn’t respond, Janus turned just as Patton’s hands fell in a cartoonish motion. Janus caught the action in a blur, shaking his head back with a quirked brow. Patton blinked, eyes wide before catching up to the moment.

“Y-yeah, yes!” He nodded, again too eagerly, and assumed his position at the stove next to Janus.

“Wonderful,” Janus clapped his hands softly together at his chest. “This should be easy then,” He observed as he turned his head to smile at Patton in a way that had red climbing up his neck again.

Patton forced himself to inhale through his teeth and focus on the moment instead of how close they were standing.

“Thanks for getting the bowls,” Patton reached to place the vial of yellow dye in one before handing it to Janus. Reaching for a bowl of his own, Patton realized he didn’t know which color he wanted to start with. There were so many to choose from! Patton tapped his chin as Janus took the remaining tub of frosting. The signature sound of the aluminum being pulled back accompanied the rest of Patton’s sentence, which was mumbled almost shyly. “I wasn’t sure if you would think mixing the dyes was too much effort.”

“Says the person who insists on making the dough from scratch every time,” Janus snorted easily as he dolloped a spoonful of frosting in his own bowl, and then Patton’s. Patton bowed his head with a small bit of shame, but smiled at the way Janus teased him. “I know what I’m getting into every time I join you,” Janus continued, squeezing a couple drops of yellow into his bowl. Somehow Janus made the sound of a fork scraping against porcelain repeatedly not annoying. Patton didn’t know how he managed that; it always seemed like the second he held a utensil near anything, annoying noise was unavoidable.

“I guess that’s true,” Patton mumbled, finally settling on starting with purple. He planned to do a few of everyone’s favorite colors and let them know they were on the counter for the taking. Well, except yellow and green of course. Janus always did his and Remus’ himself. Carefully he squeezed a couple drops of blue and red into his bowl, tongue poking out the side of his mouth; Paton’s telltale sign of concentration. Knowing this, Janus let a few moments pass in silence as he began artfully scraping his pastel yellow mixture into a ziplock bag, which would eventually have its tip cut off to make piping the frosting onto the perfectly shaped cookies that much easier.

As Janus finished with that, Patton beamed at his perfectly purple colored frosting. The color had come out flawlessly, his concentration paying off well. “Making some for Virgil?” Janus asked conversationally as he held a ziplock bag open for Patton to begin spooning his mixture into.

“And Roman and Logan, of course,” Patton assured with a smile of appreciation as his tongue poked out once more.

“Of course,” Janus sassed but fell silent again as he watched Patton make sure he got every inch of the frosting inside the bag. He wondered how Patton ever did this without him. Had Roman helped? He couldn’t imagine the superfluous Prince capable of staying still long enough to hold a bag like this. The idea of Logan helping was almost comedic. Perhaps Virgil then … The two did get on very well and the brood had a history of helping Janus in the kitchen, years ago.

“Alright! Next color,” Patton cheered. Janus’ smile twitched and he busied himself with folding the bag of purple, squeezing out the air to be placed on the counter for later.

The bowls were placed in the sink and the process was repeated with a couple of clean ones, now with Janus mixing the forest green with a hint of yellow to achieve the Duke’s signature lime color. He watched as Patton used about half the tube of blue for Logan’s indigo shade, complaining all the while that it wasn’t dark enough and looked too much like his own favorite baby blue.

Janus hummed as he observed it; it was true, the color was far too light. “Try a couple drops of this,” He offered, reaching and handing Patton the unopened bottle of black food coloring.

“Black?” Patton said almost indignantly. His bottom lip jutted out an inch as he looked down at the bottle, turning it in his hand.

“Well, he likes dark blue, doesn’t he?” Janus questioned, wondering how on earth he could have offended Patton with the color black.

“I guess…” He trailed off, glancing between the bottle and the pretty light blue in the bowl. “It’s just…” Patton paused, realizing his thought was a bit silly, but it felt like a good question. Janus never made him feel stupid for asking things at least, even if the answer seemed obvious. “Logan’s … on our side, isn’t he?” Janus quirked a brow, his expression devoid of amusement suddenly. “L-like, mine and …. and Roman’s… I mean.”

Silence hung in the air for several seconds. Patton had begun regretting the question; usually, Janus had some sort of answer immediately. His mind was much faster than his, able to connect things instantly where Patton couldn’t even begin to see a relation. His explanations were always succinct, at least to him. This sort of pause was … rare, if not unheard of. He anxiously rolled the bottle in his hands, wishing he could just sink out and leave.

Janus started with a quiet click of his tongue as his head turned to look at the wall behind the stove. “Since when is color indicative of that sort of thing,” Janus mused rhetorically. Another pause ensued and Patton wasn’t quite fast enough to draw his own conclusion from that line alone. He did start to wonder, however, if he had managed to hurt Janus’ feelings, and if that was why he was reluctant to answer.

“Yellow doesn’t exactly scream evil, does it,” Janus said with too much venom on his tongue as he looked back at Patton and jabbed a hand almost violently at the bright gloves resting on the counter. Patton held the bottle to his chest, shrinking away as Janus’ anger showed. He didn’t like when Janus got angry, but he at least understood it. He knew he could be frustrating.

“Neither does bright green, right?” Janus tilted the bowl towards Patton unnecessary before sighing. “Your side, my side,” He mumbled, walking away from the counter. Patton frowned at the ground as Janus reigned his frustration in.

He had a point. Yellow was bright and happy; the sun was yellow, dandelions, sunflowers … lots of good things were yellow; and green was everywhere. Not exactly the Duke’s shade of green, but green nonetheless, Patton guessed. Why had he never noticed it before? Between everyone, only he and Roman wore bright colors, but that didn’t make Virgil, in his black hoodie and equally black jeans, any less good than either of them! What did that mean for yellow and green then, if even a color as dark as indigo was to be considered light?

“I’m sorry,” Patton sighed, shoulders deflating. He cautiously approached Janus’ back.

“No, no,” Janus muttered, fingers pressed to his brow with a thumb on his cheek, a hand on his hip as he berated himself for showing so much of his aggravation. “I shouldn’t have gotten so upset.”

“I get it,” Patton’s tone smiled bitterly as he hesitatingly placed a hand on Janus’ shoulder. “I’m really frustrating and ask stupid questions sometimes.”

“Pat…” Janus turned his head to frown at Patton. “That’s not…”

“Forget I asked anything,” he squeezed Janus’ shoulder and nodded towards the cookies on the stove. “C’mon, we should finish up.”

Janus stared at the wear on Patton’s face for a long moment. The air was sweet and not just because of the frosting on Morality’s teeth. There he went, hurting Patton again. Would he ever be able to stop?

“Sure,” Janus deflated and reached up to place a hand over Patton’s on his shoulder. For a moment, Patton’s facade fell and the surprise in his expression was genuine, but the slip was only quick enough for Janus to catch.

The familiar routine continued, now silently as Janus scooped Remus’ green into a bag. Patton stared down at the black dye in his hand but only paused briefly before tearing it open and poising the tip above the bright blue frosting. Janus held his breath and it seemed Patton was doing the same.

“I’m sure Log--” Janus started, about to reassure Patton with the idea that Logan would enjoy a cookie no matter its color, but was interrupted by two black globs falling into the bowl finally. Janus closed his mouth and watched from the side of his vision as Patton began mixing the color thoroughly; slowly at first, and then as the blue darkened to a familiar indigo, faster.

“Oh,” Patton sighed, soon smiling down at the bowl of perfect Logan-colored frosting. “It’s perfect,” He grinned at Janus, seeming to instantaneously forget their altercation.

Janus’ smile back was softer, much more relieved than anything. “It is,” he nodded and reached for a bag to hold open once more. When Patton had finished scooping the frosting inside and Janus had turned to place the bag with the other two, Morality paused.

“Thanks,” He mumbled to Janus’ back, hoping he would attribute the sudden appreciation to helping with Logan’s color. Really, Patton wasn’t quite sure what it was he realized, but he did realize something about the black and white way he viewed everyone; and that was thanks to Janus, as usual.

Janus ran his hands over the ziplock bags laying atop each other. Yellow, purple, green, indigo, soon to have light blue and red together with them. The colors didn’t mean anything, even if they were obviously representative of a specific person here. Sure, they could theorize all day about why each color, but what did it matter? A little darkness in someone didn’t make them all bad, obviously.

“Of course, dear.”

Chapter One || Chapter Three

#moceitappreciationweek #moceit appreciation week #moceit week 2021 #moceit #sanders sides

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flourchildwrites · 3 years ago

Text

“I want all my alchemists, current and former, to lay low for the time being while we reassess the State Alchemy program. I am here to ask what you want in return for your service and your discretion.”

Behind the reflective surface of his horn-rimmed glasses, Grumman’s eyes shift to the foot of Alphonse’s bed where Izumi’s cookbook sits open. “Your just deserts, as it were,” he adds with a smirk.

Alphonse doesn’t have to ponder what their plans are.

“All we want is to go home, sir, to Resembool,” Alphonse answers. He smiles to lighten the mood; loose skin pulls around the corners of his grin. “And I’d also like to see a few friends. Maybe try some of the foods from my list before we leave Central."

Fandom: Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga

Relationships & Characters: Alphonse Elric & Edward Elric, Izumi Curtis/Sig Curtis, Gracia Hughes, Elicia Hughes, Grumman, Winry Rockbell, Pinako Rockbell

Genre: Character Study, Post-Promised Day, Recovery, Just Deserts

Trigger Warnings: Underweight Character

Rating: G

Word Count: 2,967 words (Complete)

A/N: I'm incredibly excited to share the fic I wrote for @fmacookbookzine, Tastes of Amestris! Most of the desserts mentioned in the story have recipes in the cookbook. I owe a special thanks to the zine moderator as well as my betas, Tas and @vino-and-doggos. I appreciate kudos, bookmarks, subscriptions, comments, likes, and reblogs if you feel so inclined.

Kintsugi is the Japanese art of repairing broken pottery by mending the areas of breakage with lacquer dusted or mixed with powdered gold, silver, or platinum. The repair becomes part of the object’s history and enhances its beauty.

...

There is a plate in the china cabinet of Pinako’s kitchen that Alphonse likes best. It looks the same as the others with pale pink vines looping along the fluted rim. Yet, this particular piece is set apart from the rest. Once cracked in half, Alphonse’s favorite plate has a vein of gold that binds the fractured parts together.

He was there when it happened on Winry’s sixth birthday. Ms. Sarah assembled an unorthodox birthday dessert in honor of the occasion, an elegant presentation of fresh berries, whipped cream, and puffs of baked meringue. The final touch was a pinch of mint, and once combined, Winry gazed excitedly at her mother’s handiwork stacked atop the fine china. In her wonder, the child’s footing faltered.

All told, it was an everyday accident that had Pinako tutting softly under her breath as she picked up the pieces; however, precious little went to waste in the Rockbell household—a place where broken things (and sometimes people) came to be restored. With the conscience of a healer and the precision of a surgeon, Granny carefully glued the jagged edges together with golden lacquer. Raised lines stuck out along the break and dried, leaving the piece even more beautiful for the story it had to tell.

When Alphonse looks in the mirror now, his face also tells a story. Though, he thinks that it is not a tale the hospital staff wants to hear. They are thankful for the large red letters that read ‘CONFIDENTIAL’ stamped across his medical chart. They look away from the sunken eyes and gaunt cheeks that stare back at Alphonse from the mirror Sig is holding for him. Each time Alphonse sees himself, he half expects to confront a gunmetal helmet with half-moon holes glowing red and horizontal vents instead of gutting cheekbones. The reality is disorienting but not unwelcome.

Like the metallic bond holding together his favorite plate, Alphonse likes the way his golden eyes gleam with the satisfaction of seeing his and Edward’s bodies restored. All except for his brother’s leg, and perhaps Edward does not regret that loss. It was a price paid-in-full for the people the Elric brothers helped and the lesson they learned, albeit the hard way.

Alphonse’s fingers tremble as he grasps the razor. He glances up from the mirror to the burly bear of a man holding it. “Press the razor to your face and gently pull upward,” Sig kindly instructs. “Let it do the work for you.”

The young man nods and does as instructed, ready to savor the task of shaving for the first time with the most patient person as his teacher. Alphonse takes his first pull of the razor, and it glides across his upper lip with little resistance until, at the very end, his hand trembles again.

He feels a sharp sensation, and while examining his visage in the mirror, Alphonse notices a red mark above the corner of his mouth mingled with traces of shaving cream. Sig holds out a handkerchief.

“You should have seen my first attempt. You did well,” Sig says with a pleasant grin.

A warmth fills Alphonse’s hospital room, crammed with four people who function as a family, just as they did back in Dublith. Edward reclines on the bed next to his brother with his arms stretched lazily behind his trademark braid. Izumi watches the exchange between her husband and Alphonse with a small smile, barely keeping up the pretense of reading her recipe book. She keeps her vigil at Alphonse and Ed’s bedside despite her injuries.

There’s a staccato series of knocks on the door. Between the abrupt sound and the sudden appearance of an officer drenched in Amestrian blue, the spell of domesticity is broken. It is replaced by a colder reality: Ed and Alphonse Elric are being kept by the military. They remain unsure who is being protected from whom and to what end.

Their guard straightens up. A sheen of sweat collects on his brows and the collar of his woolen uniform. His voice is strained as he pulls up into a rigid salute to address Ed. The Fullmetal Alchemist cocks his brow incredulously at the formal display.

“Sorry to intrude, Major Elric,” the officer finally announces, “Mr. Alphonse Elric. You have a visitor.”

“A visitor?” Ed parrots; a sharp remark is already on the tip of his pitchy tongue. “If it’s that Colonel Bastard, again, you can tell him-”

“It’s not Colonel Mustang,” the officer interrupts. “It’s Genera- I mean Führer Grumman.”

The collective attention of the room turns as a shorter, older man emerges from behind the guard. He moves slowly and smiles through his thick, white mustache. The deep blue of his immaculate uniform contrasts the faded fabric of the lower-ranking officer ahead of him. Service ribbons in every color weigh down the left side of the gentleman’s long jacket.

“Acting Führer,” he corrects with adroit, disarming syntax. “But then, we’re all friends here. Who cares about a little thing like formalities?”

...

Alphonse scratches at his freshly shaven upper lip as the usual introductions are observed. It seems that Ed will be doing the talking, and with that in mind, Alphonse expects a brief visit. Nevertheless, Grumman paves the way for pleasantries as well as business. Not five minutes into the discussion, Alphonse realizes that the new acting Führer speaks with authority.

It would be wise, Alphonse decides, to listen carefully.

When Führer Grumman asks Izumi and Sig to step out for an afternoon cup of tea, the request is not a suggestion. The strong-willed teacher rises with the help of her husband, and the couple leaves begrudgingly. Alphonse grins sympathetically at them as they exit. It bolsters his confidence when Izumi returns his smile with an assertive nod.

Grumman does not hesitate to fill the seat their teacher vacated. Gravity bears down on Alphonse’s frail shoulders, but he sits as tall as he can.

“The way I hear it, you boys saved the day,” the Führer proclaims, flashing a set of pearly whites. “I’d say my government owes you both a debt of gratitude.”

With all the rough-edged diplomacy he can muster, Ed responds. “Yeah, well, we didn’t do it for the government, old man. And I’m done being a dog of the military. Whatever plans you’ve got in mind, count us out.”

The Führer’s reaction is nearly nonexistent. Instead, he leans against the hardback of the chair and immediately winces.

“Dreadfully uncomfortable,” he announces, shifting forward. Grumman waves a hand to draw the guard in closer. “Be a helpful lad. See that Mrs. Curtis is given more comfortable seating.”

The young officer scurries off, closing the door behind him, and the older gentleman turns his attention toward Alphonse.

“Oh, I understand perfectly. The military will ask nothing further of you if that’s what you want,” he replies. “But the situation we find ourselves in is unusual—a conspiracy in the upper echelons of the government, a nation-wide episode of unconsciousness, the condition of Alphonse’s body, and the inexplicable connection it all has to alchemy. These are the sort of concerns that fuel the rumor mill.”

The older gentleman pauses, idly twisting the ends of his mustache between his fingers as he divulges the political landscape of Amestris.

Behind the reflective surface of his horn-rimmed glasses, Grumman’s eyes shift to the foot of Alphonse’s bed where Izumi’s cookbook sits open.

“Your just deserts, as it were,” he adds with a smirk.

Alphonse doesn’t have to ponder what their plans are.

“Your list?” the Führer asks.

“It was in a book he used to keep,” Ed explains. His tone softens, as it always does when he speaks of his brother. “It listed foods he wanted to try when he was inside... Anyway, I think we lost it.”

“I see.”

Grumman’s response is curt. With a final flourish, the old man straightens his cap and rises from the chair. It seems that he’s heard all he needs to hear.

“I’m going to keep an eye on you boys,” he concludes. “Just the one, mind you, for whatever that’s worth. It’s a fine idea for you both to return to Resembool. Recuperate and rest, and when you figure out what you’d like to do with your time, give me a call.”

The old man produces an ivory card from the pocket of his uniform; a phone number is scribbled on the front. The card itself is an innocuous thing, but the peace offering reeks of political maneuvering. Ed frowns as Führer Grumman places the card on the small table between the brothers’ beds. Alphonse is torn, equal parts intrigued and wary of the strings attached to this phone number.

“The good people here tell me that Alphonse will be ready to travel in four months,” Grumman continues. “In the meantime, I’ll see that you are allowed visitors and suitable food that Alphonse would like to become reacquainted with.”

Alphonse focuses on the task at hand. He thinks of the timeline and of the way Edward approached his recovery from the automail installation. A determined glint ignites in his golden eyes, almost glossy with the lacquer of conviction. Alphonse is weak, but his spirit remains tireless.

“I’ll do it in two,” he says.

Edward, only too happy to put the politics of Central City behind them, nods in agreement.

...

A month’s time sees Alphonse with his hair clipped short; his once sunken cheeks have regained some fullness. Edward, Sig, and Izumi have long since been discharged, but they take turns keeping Alphonse company from the spare couch of his hospital room. Just like Führer Grumman promised, it’s more comfortable than the standard chairs, but that doesn’t mean Alphonse is content to linger.

Now more than ever, he’s determined to go home, walking unassisted down Resembool’s roads. However, for the moment, it’s all Alphonse can do to steady his awkward gait by digging his toes into mats and bracing his arms against the parallel bars. He thinks something as simple as walking should come easily; his legs have other ideas. Another fall brings his physical therapy to an end for the day, and Alphonse returns to his hospital room.

He takes the bumps and bruises in stride. He makes it a point to smile at the staff even when their treatments bring him pain alongside progress. From the confines of a wheelchair, Alphonse greets his guard—a man called Doug who likes comic books and whistles to fill the silence. Doug never pries and is quick to look the other way when Ed overstays his official welcome.

“Ready for more visitors?” Doug asks.

Alphonse’s face lights up with anticipation, and he cranes his neck to peer around the doorframe. Tawny brown hair and emerald eyes fill his field of vision as the small body of a precocious child lunges toward him. She nearly jumps into his lap before her mother pulls her back while balancing a covered plate with one arm.

“Elicia! Ms. Gracia!” Alphonse greets. Recognition washes over both visitors' faces at the sound of Alphonse’s voice.

“So that’s what you look like,” Elicia observes. She giggles madly, rocking back and forth from heel to toe.

Alphonse is quick to change the subject; he also refuses to think about the way Elicia’s gregarious nature reminds him of a certain someone.

The visit is pleasant and predictable. Gracia frets about his weight and serves him a double portion of adorable pudding domes that mother and daughter whipped up for the visit. The vanilla concoctions are cleverly molded into cat-shaped faces, painted with slanting eyes and curving mouths. Soft and creamy with a hint of coffee, they are as sweet as Elicia.

Between the confection and the company, Alphone passes an hour or more catching up on life and letting the child bounce between the walls of his hospital room. When mother and daughter depart (with promises to return with quiche), the silence feels harder to swallow. Alphonse cannot help but think of Winry and Pinako, of apple pie and strong coffee mixed with the smell of automail oil.

He wants, more than anything, to go home.

...

The doctors are surprised when Alphonse meets his deadline; Ed, ever faithful, is not. Alphonse leaves Central City General with his head held high and only stops to rest when the hospital is out of sight. His senses are overwhelmed by the feeling of a starched collar against the back of his neck, the pull of a new vest across his chest, and the weight of Grumman’s card in his pocket.

Alphonse follows Ed’s lead through neat cobblestone roads that feel familiar and yet entirely different, steeped in a tactile reality that he can touch, feel, and taste. Thick exhaust from passing cars sticks to the back of his throat on their way to the train station. Yet, the stench is suddenly replaced by delicious aromas wafting from a nearby café.

His rumbling stomach is drawn to a wide store window where rounds of raspberry mousse cake sit proudly on display. Chilled pink and green tinted layers sit beneath a tempting red glaze that appears sticky, smooth, and oh-so delectable. Alphonse imagines that the confection tastes tart and tangy with notes of brandy and pistachios. He wants to charge into the cafe and order every morsel that’s for sale, but his brother has other ideas.

“Better get going,” Ed says, throwing an arm around Alphonse’s shoulders to steer him away from temptation. “We’ve got a train to catch. You’ve been waiting a long time for what Winry’s whipping up.”

Reluctantly, Alphonse tears himself away from the sight but not before committing the name of the confection and the café to memory. He leaves Central swearing that, when the time is right, he’ll be back.

...

Their return isn’t quite as Alphonse imagined. There’s no hero’s welcome; only a few nods of recognition are offered as they make their way down Resembool’s country roads. But as soon as Alphonse sees the Rockbell residence, a place that marks their journey’s end, accolades don’t matter.

Edward offers to carry him, and Alphonse refuses, bracing himself against his walking stick instead. With gratitude, he thinks of the people that have propelled the brothers along their quest—especially the travelers from Xing. He hopes that they, too, made it home.

And in the blink of an eye, their dream is realized. Den pounces upon Alphonse, recognizing him despite the amount of time that has passed. Winry isn’t far behind. She tackles the brothers to the ground and wraps her arms around them. The trio is a mess of blonde hair and tears of joy.

“Dummies, welcome home!” she exclaims, and for now, Alphonse is inclined to believe this is where he belongs. In this home and amongst these people, he intends to reconcile the pieces of himself while his appetite for the sweet things in life returns.

Winry serves him her famed apple pie on the pink porcelain plate, its halves still bound together by golden lacquer. It’s wonderful and not just because of the flaky crust that crumbles under his fork or the cinnamon sweetness of the soft apples. It’s wonderful because, for the first time in a long time, Alphonse is precisely where he wants to be.

...

Many apple pies are shared around Pinako’s dinner table. There are also birthday cakes for Alphonse (two to be exact) and pans of bread pudding served with blueberries and vanilla sauce. He eats and laughs and grows stronger by the day.

When Alphonse looks in the mirror now, he still likes what he sees, and the girls in town tend to agree. His favorite white-collar shirts hint at the toned torso hiding beneath, and his square jaw exudes newfound confidence. Yet, his ambition to make their world a better place remains the same—too loud for a quiet country backdrop.

Alphonse realizes that the path he is meant to walk extends much farther. His studies, inspired by the prospect of adventure and letters from a feisty alkahestress, resonate with the Dragon’s Pulse. Finally, Alphonse is compelled to dial the number scribbled on the back of the old ivory card and is delighted when he’s connected to the nation’s most powerful man straightaway.

“Had your fill of Resembool yet, son?” Führer Grumman asks. “Are you ready to add to that list of yours?”

“Funny you should bring up my list,” Alphonse retorts, more than willing to play Grumman’s game of allusion. “There’s this Xingese dessert that Princess Mei Chang goes on about in her letters, a red bean soup. It would be a shame if I never tried it, don’t you think?”

Grumman chuckles. “Suppose you could use some diplomatic credentials for the trip. Try not to cause an international incident until Mustang takes over.”

The golden glint in Alphonse’s eyes makes no guarantees. His well-mannered innocence is tempered by past mistakes and fused with a gunmetal resolve.

“I can’t make any promises,” he replies.

#fma #fullmetal alchemist brotherhood #alphonse elric #edward elric #grumman #character study #post-promised day #just deserts #kintsugi #flourchildwrites #and uses Oxford commas

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spnasylum · 4 years ago

Text

My notes while listening to Misha’s comments on the podcast: (grab a snack!)

In light of the most recent fandom drama I decided to listen to *that* podcast and take notes as I went along about what was actually said and then give my take on it as objectively as possible. This is basically an essay so strap in!

He complains about not getting a trailer on set that’s the same as Jared and Jensen’s. Even though he has one that can accommodate 3 people. This was the first point of discussion inspired by opening up the interview with a brief chat about Misha currently being in his camper van and how he’s sleeping in it even though he’s still home in Bellingham. The whole hour and 26 minutes has an undertone of complaining and ego stroking by all involved.

Says he’s sad he didn’t get to be there for the final days of filming.

Seems a little nervous about if friendships made during the shows run will last now it’s over.

Admits he has no plan in place or anything coming up career wise and he’s unsure of his future. This is where he brings up Walker and The Boys and says if he had shows like that to go to he wouldn’t feel SPN ending was so monumental. It is said with a slight tone of bitterness.

Side note: the hosts Alaina and Malik seem to be fine with running with the narrative that Misha was part of the show it’s entire 15 year run. Misha clears this up eventually by saying he joined in season 4.

Misha says that he realized about six years ago that SPN could run as “we” wanted it to, implying he has any say in keeping the show going or not. He asserts that he would have been on the show up until the very end in any case. But he didn’t feel that way the first few years he was on the show. So that makes me think something or someone involved gave him the feeling he could be confident in being in the cast for however long SPN aired. Maybe this was after Sera left? Maybe this was when he agreed to a significant pay cut and demotion? Either way it seems he felt SPN = job security.

Misha doubts he’ll have the feeling of job security again.

Says from around age 11 he wanted to be a politician.

Says he saw “successful, untalented” actors and decided “I can do that”. He realized that was naive and it’s actually not easy to be that successful and by the time he got his career going he was basically just in it for the fame it’s not anything he took seriously.

We find out his wife did a doctorate in gender history... for some reason.

That Marilyn Monroe was some sort of baseline for him about creating a public persona (🤷🏽‍♀️) except for getting cosmetic surgery he points out.

Talk about how he got started. Acting classes, improve groups. Moving between Chicago, DC and LA.

Discussion about the differences and similarities between Hollywood and Washington.

States he got a consultant to help him cultivate a fan base and image to connect with an audience after getting on SPN. Admits that was a double edged sword because an anonymous public start thinking that they really know you and things start getting weird.

Mentions trying to find a balancing act of being authentic and having a private life but still keeping your fans.

He admits that the fan base he grew for himself by seeming accessible has caused him to attract people who don’t have any boundaries. This is when he claims the “dialing it back” in regard to how much he shares and mentions his kids specifically as something he doesn’t feel comfortable with putting out there. Uses the word “unhinged” to describe them.

Malik mentions “crazy fans” who seem to know too much about you and finding out where you are etc. Using the example of fans turning up at an airport wanting autographs and you wondering how they even knew you’d be there and what flight you taking. He asks Misha to share experiences about his own crazy fans.

This is when Misha uses the example about having fans who think that when he tweets something out he’s communicating with them personally.

Alaina then says that in the Supernatural fandom people fight each other to protect Jared, Jensen and Misha and it’s “very bizarre”. She volunteered that people think Misha secretly hates Jared and that it’s not true. Not sure why she decided to direct the conversation to a place that would cause drama and give Misha a chance to play victim.

And then...

That’s when he claims that he was public enemy number one with super fans of the show because he’s taking attention away from Jared and Jensen.

That’s when he brings up the alleged organized attack to take down his Facebook account. He says they reported him for... *pauses... claims to not know what. But that whatever it was “Facebook bought it and took it down”. Facebook deleted/deactivated his account but he eventually got it back.

Side note: Facebook (like all social media) have always been bias when it comes to people with leftist views and let them have free reign on the platform. So he must have done something that they would decide to suspend him. I don’t think J2 fans can be blamed for the content he posts and if it violated any ToS. As we know he can post some inappropriate things on social media.

He then brings up the allegations of him taking money out of his organization. Stating it’s “categorically untrue” is all he brings forward as evidence to the contrary.

Side note: I don’t know why then that there’s no receipts or transparency. Why is his mother a beneficiary, why do people who mention he owns Stands get blocked, why set everything up in Delaware and have your for profit and so called non profit interests so entangled etc etc) I guess fans are just supposed to have faith and take his word for it.

He says that ALL of them (Jared, Jensen and himself) have people who hate them in the fandom. But overall the fandom is lovely and supportive of the cast and each other. Makes an attempt at stating there’s no kind of competition or animosity between he and Jared. I think this is like the 3rd or 4th time in the interview either he or Alaina bring up Jared but keep the focus on how Misha is the one facing “character assassination.”

Finally says that all of them have nasty things done to them and they all have had to consult security because of threats to their families etc, doesn’t specify which faction of the fandom that’s coming from. Mentions people filing police reports in the fandom but doesn’t say regarding who or what. Alaina reacts like it’s the first time hearing of this happening. Misha just goes “yeah!” Then they move on to talking about living situations.

Apparently Alaina and Misha were neighbors in LA but didn’t take advantage of that. She doesn’t live in LA anyone, wants a new adventure.

Misha mentions Bellingham is another thing about his future he’s unsure about and how his kids flourished there.

Brings up not being present with his kids even when he’s home because of work and side projects and that the one thing he’s enjoying right now it spending time with them. That he used to operate from a place of guilt because his kids felt like they only have one parent. He and Malik briefly spoke on how their careers have negatively affected their love lives.

Misha says he’s not really involved with Random Acts or running it anymore. (Ummm... what)

He and Alaina discuss Haiti and Nicaragua for a while.

Says he may try to get into directing. Says he likes having creative control. Mentions he likes doing his art installations.

Admits that getting a bit of success made him very entitled and wanting of special treatment. But claims he’s trying to keep that in check (where?) and he’s just like everyone else (well duh!). But he “trades on his celebrity” to get stuff and it makes him feel dirty (I think everyone with any kind of following does that though so nbd)

Talk of how TV/film is more diverse in telling minority stories these days.

Was asked by Malik if he has any kind of chip on his shoulder career wise and Misha says the chip on his shoulder is being bored. But says he needs to work on being more engaged.

He then abruptly wants to end the interview. Saying he has to pick up his kids. Malik wants another question. He asks how Misha has been hurt or healed by his career.

Misha then brings up the movie Karla. Again admitting to becoming more like Paul psychologically irl. But says knowing he has that type of evil in him somewhere (and says that we all have that in us) made him more empathetic to the human condition.

They then say their goodbyes. End of interview.

——

My takeaway. The worst thing he can think to say the people who don’t like him in the fandom did was trolling to get his Facebook deactivated? Also that people can see the suspicious nature of his businesses? It would be really easy to settle that with actually being transparent about the finances, which they aren’t and not having close family as benefactors though. Also, I can only speak for myself. But I never hated him. I actually loved Castiel (before his character was there just to be there in recent seasons and Cass wasn’t Cass anymore. I think Misha’s need to pander to shippers/stay on the show was a great disservice to Castiel and his arc) I was a huge Misha fan, and participated in RA and Gish a lot. I absolutely adored Misha, I led myself to believe he was the most amazing person in the world, obviously that’s the reaction he wanted to cultivate from us. Unfortunately I learned too much, experienced first hand and heard too much to be able to keep cheerleading for him. I feel bad for the people still under the spell of feeling like it’s their job to keep being defensive and unreasonably loyal to someone who you can’t and don’t really know and only have a superficial “relationship” with. Seeing the ever more unhealthy and toxic lengths people feel they need to go to to prop up his ego etc. The constant investment emotionally and financially that goes into it and the “sunk cost” if you let reality in makes it hard to let go I guess. Even he knows that what he’s done to gain and maintain relevance has attracted what he called multiple times an unhinged fan base he has to try and balance without losing his influence. I think he maybe had or has good intentions but his fame hungry drive and narcissistic personality traits win out in the end. The Heller’s seem to have, as always, taken what was said and blown it out of proportion, twisted things and created their own narrative. I do see them using key words from the interview a lot suddenly though to bully for him. So, I guess the dog whistle to the sycophants worked out. I hope that a time comes where they can have a more healthy relationship with the media and public figures they choose to gravitate towards. We can all get over zealous with things but there’s lines that shouldn’t be crossed. For some that seems sadly unlikely. I hope that Misha does indeed one day get himself in check as he calls it and I can feel comfortable to support him again. But so long as he’s being enabled and not held accountable again that seems sadly unlikely. Even though I do occasionally find myself being drawn in by the facade again a little and quickly retreating because the issues remain the same. There is a problematic dynamic in the Supernatural fandom for sure. That’s why for a long time I opted out and just watched the show separately from fandom. It’s why when I found out it was ending I had this odd sense of relief I wasn’t expecting to feel and it made me sad. I hope that now the show has aired its finale we can all reflect on things, hopefully be more self aware and objective and most importantly honest about what really has gone down and why. When things started turning sour there have been plenty of times it could have been nipped in the bud yet wasn’t. People who used this silly yet special show in selfish ways, times when walking away would have been better than sticking around trying to make things and people into something never intended to be, giving into tribalism while claiming we’re a family... for that I think we all hold a little piece of responsibility.

You can listen to it yourself on Spotify: https://open.spotify.com/episode/0m07her5JUf0JGGtDVohtJ?si=c-RdyZzFQmSzffgNzZhkQg

#anti misha #anti misha collins #misha collins #supernatural #fandom #anti destihellers #strap in its a long one again #opinion #trying to be objective #alaina huffman #malik yoba #anti minions #misha #collins

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dewitty1 · 4 years ago

Text

Fic Recs Wrap Up - August 2020 (੭ˊ͈ ꒵ˋ͈)･*:.｡. .｡.:*･゜ﾟ･*☆

A Convenient Impracticality by firethesound @firethesound

Somehow Harry ends up agreeing to a fake relationship with his ex-nemesis-turned-friendly-acquaintance-with-benefits, except for some reason it involves an awful lot of actual dating and, sadly, not much sex. Confused? Harry is too, but when has anything with Draco Malfoy ever been as straightforward as it seems? Rec Post

A Series of Neighbourly Epistles by slytherco @slytherco

Harry finds himself in a very awkward spot when he calls the Aurors on his neighbour… having very loud sex. As in not actually killing anyone. He writes him a disgruntled note and thus begins a very interesting exchange. When they finally decide to meet, Harry’s not quite prepared to find out who his mystery neighbour turns out to be. Or for everything that happens next, for that matter. Rec Post

Cassiopeia Lily Malfoy by GallaPlacidia

In eighth year, Harry had a toxic fling with Draco Malfoy. Ten years later, a little girl shows up, begging for Harry's help. Could the two be connected? And did Harry misunderstand what Draco was trying to tell him, the last time they spoke?

Feat. angry 8th year Harry being truly horrible to Draco, Draco writing a lot of letters he never sends Harry, and the most Gryffindor-Slytherin hybrid ten-year-old you've ever seen. Rec Post

Sex, Lies, and Veritaserum by lettered @letteredlettered

This entire fic is one long conversation about sex. Rec Post

Will you be my daddy? by SasuNarufan13

After Draco divorced from Daphne, Scorpius is set on finding a second daddy, because Draco told him he only loves men. He has even made a list. Then he meets Harry and he's dead set on getting him as a second daddy. Will he succeed? Rec Post

As Souls From Bodies Steal by Femme (femmequixotic) @femmequixotic

Hope may be found in the oddest of places, even in the bleakness of winter. Rec Post

Gravity by _Melodic_ (Sae)

Harry hasn't seen Malfoy in nearly two years--not since that thwarted kiss during Eighth year. When he stumbles across him working at a bookshop, his whole world is turned upside down. How does he deal with all these feelings that have come rushing back to the surface? And what about the pesky matter of Malfoy's new boyfriend? Rec Post

IDK My BFF Hermione? By lettered @letteredlettered

Draco's a hot mess. Harry's lovin' it (hell yes). Rec Post

₍՞◌′ᵕ‵ू◌₎♡ Here are some other fics you might enjoy-

It Gets Better by kaikim @thoroughlycollected

As much as the big picture matters, it only comes together if the details are all right.

Ten years after The Second Wizarding War there's a mysterious curse plaguing Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, and Ron, Hermione, and Harry come together again to save the school. When the evidence starts to point towards Draco Malfoy as the only one who can break the curse before it's too late, the three friends agree to convince him to help. But first, they're going to have to find him, and no one has seen or heard from Malfoy in five years. (note- I have not read this at this time, but it’s on my MFL) Art post by @zigster-ao3

Running on Air by eleventy7 @tinyhistory

Draco Malfoy has been missing for three years. Harry is assigned the cold case and finds himself slowly falling in love with the memories he collects. Art post by @saleiba-tu Art post by @bluebutter-art

Where I Feel Safest by Ladderofyears @clemandben

Draco has a mild phobia of thunderstorms. His boyfriend Harry comforts him. Art post by @miakagrewup

A Different Kind of Meaning by p1013 @p1013

The ceiling doesn't hold any answers, but there are cobwebs scattered across the corners with shadows tangled in their threads. The rug against his back is rough and scratchy, threadbare and devoid of colours other than various shades of brown. Harry takes it all in, absorbs the dingy and depressed state of his home. There's a pointed moment of decision, a note about to be played, a silence about to end, and then he rolls to his feet and sets to cleaning.

It's the first constructive thing he's done in years. Fic Claim Post

Modern Love by tackytiger @tackytigerfic

Harry Potter, of all people, knows that life isn’t always fair. And no one gets to be happy all of the time. But surely there’s something more—something better—than a rubbish Ministry job, and a lonely old house, and that feeling that everyone out there is doing a better job of living than Harry is.

And it really doesn’t seem fair that Draco Malfoy is back in Harry’s life, all of a sudden, and even though he’s wandless, and living with Muggles, and making his mother cry with his lifestyle choices, he’s happy. So what's he doing right, that Harry isn’t?

Because things don’t really change, do they? And if Harry can’t be happy, he’ll settle for a good night’s sleep, some posh antiques, and the opportunity to find out what Malfoy has been up to for all these years. Fic Claim Post

Returning Tides by Zigster @zigster-ao3

Is my timing that flawed? Our respect run so dry? Yet there's still this appeal That we've kept through our lives Art claim post by @zigster-ao3

Keep Holding On by gnarf & MaesterChill @gnarf @maesterchill

After the Battle of Hogwarts, Harry and Draco both fall into their own battles with their mental states. Draco is sent to Azkaban, and Harry turns to drinking, hoping to forget.

Months later, Harry visits St Mungo’s new ward on the request of a friend, only to find Draco in a deep vegetative state.

Not willing to give him up, Harry stays by his side, while simultaneously dealing with the Ministry's newest grand idea to make everything worse.

Making new allies, and losing old ones along the way, will hopefully be worth it in the end. Fic Claim Post

In Love With the Ferret by Pineau_noir @pineau-noir

Harry has never been the most observant bloke. Sometimes to the point of him not realising his feelings for a particular pointy, pale git. And it's not his fault if literally everyone else knows about said feelings except for Harry and the git in question. So it's really not his fault, when faced with the scope of his feelings, he suddenly has a hard time talking to one Draco Malfoy. Or looking him in the eye. Or not being a total weirdo around him.

There's nothing to do but take the advice of his friends and try to woo Draco over dinners with friends, Ministry cases, and an unfortunately named Italian restaurant.

Harry just can't stop the flutter in his chest when he sees Draco smile. Art Post by @caroll-in

That’s all I’ve got for you at the moment, my lovelies! I hope you enjoy these! I’ll see you soon with more recs. As always, Thank You for reading, following, liking, & reblogging!

Love Y’all! (◍•ᴗ•◍)♡ ✧*。 xoxoxo Carey 💜💙💚💛❤💗💕💖

#Fic Rec Wrap up August 2020 #Drarry fic recs #fic recs #Drarry #Drarry fanfiction #Drarry squad #Harry Potter #Draco Malfoy #Drarry smut #Drarry fanart #Carey's bookmark fic recs #Carey's personal bookmarks

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dawn-of-tomorrow · 3 years ago

Text

PGR COMMANDANT Q & A

FINALLY TOOK THE TIME TO ANSWER THIS-- ssdsjdlksd

link to OG post here! (made by @punishing-gray-raven-ocs)

1) How do you feel about being a Commandant? Are you proud of your job? Terrified of failing at your job?

Higetsu: Honestly speaking, it's nothing new compared to what I went through in the past-- just that now I've become an authority figure that has to lead people. ...Truthfully, however, a little unnerving, but it has to be done, and I knew what I was getting into when I decided to become one.

Yoko: Mhhmm... it's tough, I'm not gonna lie. Sometimes I have to make decisions I personally don't like but the situation demands it, and it ends up not sitting right with me. ...That's why an occasional loophole exploitation here and there is fine in spare amounts, ain't it~?

(Higetsu: Who the hell taught you to think like that-- you know what, never mind, I'd be shooting myself in the foot if I finished that sentence. // Yoko: *giggles, does a victory pose*)

2) Why did you become Commandant in the first place? How did you become a Commandant?

Yoko: Brother and I decided to become a Commandant to honor mom's memory. It sounds kinda childish to have that as a reason to take up a career as dangerous as this, but, at least to me (though I'm sure brother shares the same sentiment as I do), mom was everything to us, so we wanted to experience what she did, see the sights she did-- all the good and bad.

Higetsu: "That person", huh... Speaking of which, the relatively-fresh flowers at that grave--... No, it's nothing. In any case, "that person" took us in as her children after finding us in the remnants of our old home, bringing us back to Babylonia, to her home and husband. Well, things went as you can see, no?

3) How do your Constructs feel about your leadership skills? Are they comfortable with you? Do they fear you?

Higetsu: There's no issues at the moment with either Strike Hawk or Gray Raven. After all, if there was any problem, either Chrome or Lucia would've told me. ...Leading isn't my strongest skill, though, and sometimes they worry me. Actually, scratch that, not sometimes, FREQUENTLY. Haaaahh.

Yoko: Hrmm~... honestly, I'm not entirely too confident with my leadership skills, and the others often say that I'm a bit too lenient when it comes to dealing with Gray Raven, but... they're still people, you know? I don't want them to get hurt too much, but they don't seem to value their own lives as much as I'd wish they do...

4) Do you think the war against the Corrupted will ever come to an end?

Yoko: It will certainly come, I know it. As long as everyone continues to fight for a future, a future where we can all live in peace, then I believe that this war will come to an end. Be it in our lifetime, or the next generation.

Higetsu: ... Honestly speaking, I'm not as optimistic as Yoko. This war has been going on for a century at this point, and we are still barely scratching the surface of our objectives; that and it would seem like a bunch of rats managed to infiltrate the higher-ups. ...In any case, while I do think that the odds are stacked against us, it doesn't mean I don't believe that, one day, this entire hell will come to an end.

5) Are you in love with anyone? What drew you to them?

Higetsu: ....No comment.

Yoko: Brother~~!! It's no fun if you don't answer a harmless question like this~~!! Or do you want me to talk about your ex-penpal--

Higetsu: I evoke my right to remain silent, and DON'T YOU DARE- LIKE I KEEP SAYING, WE WERE ONLY FRIENDS-- Don't make me not let you come to the Oasis with me next time.

Yoko: Hrrmph...! Fiiine~. In any case, I'll answer here right now. I--

Higetsu: It's Lee. We all know it, you're way too obvious in your affections for him.

Yoko: Ehehe... E-Ehem--! I-In any case~~ the things I like about Lee, gosh, there's so many I might not be able to tell everything (and it would take too long)--!

Higetsu: Then just list off the top 3 things you like about him (to shorten the exposition).

Yoko: Hmmm, top 3 things about Lee, huh.... well, for starters, I like his caring nature; it's not that obvious at first glance, but he really does care about the people around him, so much so that while he may gripe and verbally snark at others, in the end he chooses to do good by them and will protect them. Secondly, I like his focus and determination; he's a man of his word, and he doesn't make promises lightly, seeing them as something that must be upheld in sincerity-- ehe, his face whenever he's working on his tools and machinery is something I can't ever not look at. Thirdly, I like him; he's equally easily flustered and annoyed by a lot of things, but at the same time, he's also very serious and earnest in what he sets out to do; he's not honest with himself, but his actions speak for itself. ....That got long, didn't it?

Higetsu: Very much so.

Yoko: Ehe~.

6) If you had to choose between saving your squad, or saving yourself to make sure you would fight on in their honor, which would you choose?

Yoko: Both. I would save myself and my squad. I won't accept any other option; rather, if there's no other option, then I WILL force that third option in!

Higetsu: Logically speaking, both of my squads would tell me to survive and live another day, and I would agree with that. ...However, such a thing doesn't sit well with me. Even if there's only the tiniest sliver of a possibility that I could save them, no matter how reckless or dangerous it may be, then I'd save the Strike Hawks and Gray Ravens.

7) You have to make a difficult choice that will affect your squad and another squad. Which squad do you prioritize? Why?

Higetsu: We can't always save people from out of our reach, so it's best to protect the ones closest to you.

Yoko: But if there's a chance that we could help them, then--

Higetsu: ...I know. ...In the end, it's your choice to do what you think is right, Yoko.

Yoko: ...Yeah. I get it. Brother wants to protect me, Gray Raven, and Strike Hawk, even at the cost of other's lives.... that's why I wish to save the others too.

8) Who is your least favorite Construct/person to be around? Why?

Higetsu: Nanami.

Yoko: EEEHHH!??! Why?! Nanami's fun to be around!!

Higetsu: Shall I list off the reasons?

Yoko: ....Ok you have a point, but she's not at all that bad--!!

Higetsu: True, but the amount of headaches she causes us is just... haaaah.

Yoko: Ah, you're starting to sound like Watanabe. Is Brother becoming an uncle now? (laughs)

Higetsu: ...I'm leaving.

Yoko: Wait I was just kidding-- brother-- BROTHER--!!! (We're not even finished with answering the questions yet~!!)

Higetsu: Just kidding.

Yoko: Really--!! (pout)

Higetsu: (amused chuckle) What about you, Yoko?

Yoko: Eh? Me? Hmm.... I suppose... it would have to be Gabriel. It's a first that I'm saying this but, I really do hate him.

Higetsu: ... Don't worry, I can say the same thing.

9) What other Commandants would you like to meet? (a clear invitation for you to involve any of my Commandants lol, because I'm always up for interacting with others)

Yoko: I'm always happy to meet other Commandants~. It's always nice to meet your colleagues whenever, especially during off-work hours.

Higetsu: Except Vanessa though. I'd rather not deal with her again.

Yoko: Ehehe... Brother, you're making a scary face right now~. In any case, I've always wanted to meet Qiu, Ash, Xiao, Kyrie, and Noir!

Higetsu: Aaaah, them. They're interesting people, not gonna lie.

10) What will you do once the war is over? Will you miss leading your squad, or will you be happy that the war is over?

Higetsu: What will I do after the war is over? ...I haven't actually put any thought into what I would do after this is all over. What about you, Yoko?

Yoko: Hmmm... honestly, I wanna join the Association of Arts, specifically the Archaeological team! Because, you know, by then, there would be no more worry of the Punishing attacking, and we could finally be able to recover in peace the remnants of the Golden Age. I want to see it all-- what other stuff left have we not unearthed from the sands of time, what potential wonders are there left from the past. ...And of course, I wanna settle down with Lee someday too, ehe.

Higetsu: I see. You've really thought about this through, huh.

Yoko: Only a little, and just fairly recently. ...Not gonna lie, I'm gonna end up missing these days; where we're all together, even through pain and suffering, because there are still a lot of good moments to cherish.

Higetsu: But it doesn't mean that you have to cut off your connections, now does it. So long as you still value them wholeheartedly and sincerely, those bonds you hold close to you will never die out.

Yoko: Aaawww, brother, you're being finally honest~! (pokes)

Higetsu: ....Shut it. (pout)

Yoko: What about you, brother? What're you gonna do after the war ends?

Higetsu: Like I said, I don't know, since I haven't thought of it yet. ...But, I suppose quietly settling down somewhere would be nice.

Yoko: Oh, right, speaking of which-- didn't Watanabe extend an offer for us to join the Oasis? ...Don't tell me, brother is thinking--

Higetsu: No, I am not.

Yoko: But you ARE thinking about it, yes?

Higetsu: ....

Yoko: Hehe~. To be fair, the Oasis isn't so bad. The people there are really nice and warm. They really do seem to be people just trying to live and get by, helping and supporting each other.

#punishing gray raven #pgr #战双帕弥什 #パニシング #戰雙帕彌什 #パニシンググレイレイヴン #ocs #pgr ocs #pgr yoko #pgr higetsu #pgr commandant #oc asks

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hello-nichya-here · 3 years ago

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Zucest - Is It Really Flirting?

(Originally posted on AO3 as chapter 43 of Defending and Analysing Zucest)

@azdaema-does-art asked: So I think a big stumbling block for me with this ship is that I very much adhere to the reading of the show that holds:

Quasi-Seducer!Azula (as seen virtually anytime) and Quasi-Seducer!Zuko (as seen in "The Waterbending Scroll") are not actually expressions of desire from them. Rather, this is Zuko and Azula trying to be intimidating by modeling their behavior off their father (circling, personal-space-invading, low seductive tones, etc)

When actually trying to flirt neither Zuko nor Azula acts anything like that. When Zuko goes on that date with a girl in the Earth Kingdom, or Azula flirting with that guy on Ember Island, they're both awkward disasters.

I'd be curious to hear you address this. (Or point me to some awkward disaster!zucest fanfic.)

***

That is a really good point and I'm glad you brought it up. While I understand that reading of the show, I disagree with it slightly for a few reasons (beyond my own bias).

Need to be in control: No one can argue against the fact that neither Zuko nor Azula know how to have "normal", healthy relationships with others, mainly due to how unequal 99% of the relationships in the Fire Nation are since imposing your own will over someone else's has become part of their culture. Both Zuko and Azula accepted being treated like mere tools/punching bags by their father, Zuko was constantly insulting Iroh over the smallest things and Azula full on threatened Ty Lee's life to make her join her on her chase after her brother and the Avatar - both were scenarios where desire wasn't a factor at all (thought I know many fans that would like to think otherwise XD)

However, during The Beach, we saw how both of them try (and fail) to deal with romance. Zuko was extremelly paranoid that Mai was interested in another guy, for no real reason, and was constantly trying to intimidate her into either admiting to it or into saying she disliked the guy, even though she had clearly said she was completely indifferent to him. And Azula, after her kiss with Chan, decided, on her own and not giving a damn about his feelings on the matter, that not only would they be officially a couple, but that they'd dominate the earth together. Control is, more often than not, a major factor in all of their actions and relationships, so Azula wanting to intimidate Zuko in the bedroom scene (which she very much tried to do and succeeded at) doesn't automatically rule out the possibility of atraction.

Mixed feelings: While "I wanna fight/kill my sibling" is sort of these two default state, there are moments that show that they do have at least some positive feelings for each other. Zuko doesn't give a shit that Aang is going to kill Ozai, but seeing Azula falling "to her death" and then chained up and defeated after their Agni Kai quite clearly made him emotional, even if he tried to control himself. Azula's positive feelings for Zuko are so obvious I had to do an in length discussion of it in chapter 12 "Is Zucest just about sex?" Combine all of the conflicting emotions they have for each other with their need to control the other, and some scenes end up getting some connotations the writers weren't planning them to have... supposedly (I'll get into that in a bit)

Awareness and familiarity: Don't get me wrong, Zuko and Azula are two extremelly traumatized, socially awkward teenagers who have no idea how to flirt (or how to fit in with people their age) but we also need to take context into consideration, especiall when it comes to Zuko's date with Jin and Azula's interactions with Chan.

In Ba Sing Se, Zuko was outside of his comfort zone, away from home, in enemy territory, and so paranoid that he assumed Jin came into the tea shop so often because she knew they were Fire Nation, not because she had a crush on him or simply enjoyed their tea. And while he liked her and the date was nice, Zuko was very "stiff" and even looked a bit uncomfortable (not to say very uncomfortable) at some points - which is oddly simmilar to how he was acting during the bedroom scene (hell, Azula was quite clearly looking at him just like Jin did, as I pointed out in "The most important parallel in Avatar"). Finally, we cannot forget that, even though he was awkward as fuck during 90% of the night, Zuko did manage to do something kinda romantic by lighting up the place, meaning he isn't completely oblivious to the concept of flirting (which is proved by his relationship with Mai).

Now, when it comes to Azula, the poor girl has almost no idea how to flirt. Almost. Talking about Chan's sharp outfit shows she's got some of the basis down, like "say something nice" - the problem is that her concept of "nice" is very different than that of most people. She did sort of know what to do once Ty Lee gave her some tips... but she quickly reversed back to her regular ways - which once again shows that flirting/seduction has an element of control and intimidation for her. She probably doesn't always mean to act in ways that could be considered flirty, but that doesn't mean she is completely oblivious to the implications of, let's say, invading her brother's personal space and talking to him in a low tone while wearing nothing but a robe.

And since I mentioned Azula going back to what she knows, that leads us to another thing to take into account: the fact that Zuko and Azula quite literally knew each other their whole lives - meaning if they were to ever flirt with each other, it would probably look at least somewhat different than when they were out of their element. Azula was the one in control, so she was far more comfortable and confident than she had been with Chan, and Zuko was the one being intimidated, which explains why he kept his guard up. Once again, that "theory" is sort of confirmed if we compare how Zuko acted while flirting with Mai on The Headband versus how he tried to interact with her in The Beach - when he used a non-traditional, but very Mai-esque "You're so beautiful when you hate the world" he got her equivalent of an "I love you" when she told him she didn't hate him, but he tried to do more "normal" things like getting her a pretty shell it blew up on his face. He knows Mai since they were both kids, meaning he usually knows how to deal with her, just like Azula usually knows how to deal with him.

Intensity: While a lot of Azula's behavior can be explained by her copying Ozai, we need to remember that there's only so much he could affect, especially since her way of "intimidating" Zuko was far more touchy and incestuous than his, and lasted a lot longer. Azula gets close to people when she's intimidating them (see how she toyed with Aang in The Drill), but not as close as she did with her brother. The sole exception to that being Sokka on The Day Of Black Sun - but that is on somewhat shaky ground despite the accidental sexual tension since the first time she got close to him she was being launched by the Dai Li and he just happened to be standing a little bellow the direction she was launched at, and the second time had him pinning her to the wall (which is in character since Sokka usually goes straight at his foes to intimidate them while fighting), and as soon as she had her firebending back she pushed him away. On top of that, she was trying to distract him, Aang and Toph, meaning he wasn't her focus at all, and she ignored him on all the other times their groups were facing each other.

With Zuko on the other hand, she was going full force, like I said on my analysis of the bedroom scene. She played coy, stared at him in a very intense, weird way, circled the pillar on her bed, stretched in front of him, got on his personal space touching his shoulder and chest, and bit her lip while talking basically purring her words. That is all a bit too much for me to believe it was just about intimidation. And the touching gets even more suspicious when you notice Azula does enjoy and is willing to give physical affection - she hugged both Mai and Ty Lee after seeing them again, pulled Ty Lee close while conforting her and apologizing for her harsh words at The Beach... and put her hand on Zuko's shoulder while saying he restored his own honor to reassure him after he was feeling bad for betraying his uncle.

Intention of the actors/writers/animators: Avatar is no stranger to parallels. It also isn't a stranger to adult themes/jokes, fanservice, and ship teasing. For instance, even thought they didn't end up together and were never canonically interested in each other, there was A LOT of hints/teases of Zutara - dude fucking took lightining to the heart for her.

Just like the writers and producers were aware of Zutara, Tokka and many, many other ships, they were also aware of Zucest and even jokingly shipped Azula and The Blue Spirit at a panel. The animators habit of sexualizing the characters speaks for itself, so I won't even go into that. Finally, Grey Delisle, Azula's voice actress is a Zucest shiper, has brought it up many times, asked people to send her fanart and fanfic of it, created the phrase "Zucest is best cest", and has full on said she voiced the scene as if Azula was trying to seduce Zuko, - which regardless of whether or not the writers intended for the character to be doing, means that there is a very strong incest subtext to the scene and that, in a weird way, "Azula" herself confirmed her motives to act the way she did.

#zucest #azuko #shipcest #meta #azula #zuko #fire siblings #atla #avatar

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clever-and-unique-name · 3 years ago

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Okay, I think I’m finally (!) on the other side of the triggered mess of that whole picrew debacle the other day. Long post to organize my thoughts under the cut (and then I should be done talking / thinking about it):

There were so many facets to it that I didn’t even know where to start, but I think the main ones are:

1a) One of my sister’s favorite talking points growing up was the treatment of artists online. Because, you see, she was an Artist and didn’t get as much recognition or fame for it as she thought she deserved, and she decided it was because people were Disrespecting Artists. So I got frequent lectures about how the worst kinds of people would treat art online--reposting art with signatures cropped out, altering work without consent, rehosting art, all that good stuff. Except it got more and more extreme and nitpicky as time went on and she started targeting other artists as well, claiming that artists needed to be citing their brush packs and linking to reference material with each post to be “real” and “responsible” artists, etc. The rules of how to interact with art and artists online became very stressful and I ended up too afraid to take part anymore (I was on places like DeviantArt back when it first started and got scared away by her “rules.”)

1b) My sister is a complicated presence in my life and always has been. She has engendered a lot of feelings of shame and “wrongness” in me about many things. So while random anons on tumblr don’t have that kind of influence over me, sometimes something like this happens where the topic happens to hit on a raw nerve left over from her, and suddenly I am feeling ALL the awful things again. Aka, it’s triggering. Not because of random people. Because of her. Thankfully, untangling all of this and separating Them from Her means I feel sufficiently guarded from their judgment again.

2) As I’ve grown away from her influence and become more comfortable with myself as a “creative person” (*cough* artist *cough*), I feel like I can make my own informed decisions about what is or is not acceptable when interacting with artist’s work online. I explicitly source everything but picrew content, and genuinely feel like leaving the artist’s tag is credit for picrews. But I struggle to say I feel that way as an artist, because obviously, my history makes it difficult for me to call myself an artist or use that to back up my arguments. Cue imposter syndrome. I’ll never be a “real” artist who gets to talk about “real artist things.”

3) The primary reason I don’t link the picrews is the above, but it’s also because I have forget-shit-disorder. I make a bunch of picrews, usually when dissociated, throw them in a folder, forget about them for a month, and eventually post them. I’m not holding on to links for them. But again, I’m full of denial and imposter syndrome, so I don’t feel like I can “use that as an excuse.” The loud argument in my head this whole time has been very “You don’t actually have this disorder, it’s shameful enough that you’re using the picrews to play pretend in the first place, now you’re going to claim that sourcing them is too difficult because of a disorder you don’t have? Holy shit.” I was also primed for aggressive denial when someone made the honest mistake of calling our dissociated parts OCs, lolsob.

4) Not linking sources to picrews was a decision made by a couple parts specifically because linking them resulted in more upsetting reblogs (as I’ve explained multiple times now.) I’m sure it seems like “not a big deal” to just throw the link in there, but to those parts it feels genuinely threatening because people do not respect our boundaries about not reblogging the posts. So it became some conflict of ideals that boiled down to “Doing a courtesy for the artists is more important than your comfort or boundaries” which some parts were all too eager to accept (”Hey yeah how dare I insist on my comfort as a priority? I am Literal Garbage.”)

So yeah. I’m good now. It just took me a while to work all that out and figure out why the hell it was bothering me so much.

#personal #tldr; triggers are strange and unexpected and tenacious sometimes

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misskatebishop · 3 years ago

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Make my messes matter

Word count: 2090

Pairing: Steve x Tony

Warning: Hurt/Comfort.

Summary: Tony has a bad day at home and Steve comforts him.

Tony rests his head against the cold metal, holding tightly his bag against his chest. He closes his eyes while the music fills his surroundings. It’s almost midnight and he has nowhere to go. Nowhere to sleep. Tony feels the tears prick his eyes, biting his lower lip to not allow a sob to come out. He’ll not cry. Not anymore.

He didn’t do anything wrong, but Howard never believes him. Not surprising, though. Yet, being kicked out of the house wasn’t something he was expecting. Of course, he had plans to move out from his parents long ago, but he’d never put them in order. He hoped that he would have more time. More time to build and secure life for himself. A life where he wouldn’t need Howard’s money to survive. But at 18, life isn’t what anyone expects it to be.

It’s a funny and ironic story that he wanted to grow up when he was a kid, and now he wishes he was a kid again. He wishes he didn’t have to worry so much or feel so overwhelmed at such a young age. But he’s Tony Stark and people expect better of him. They expect too much when all Tony wants is to work on his own projects. He wasn’t ready to assume a high post in his father’s company. Not yet. There was so much he wanted to do.

So many places to go. So many things to see, to listen to, to touch, to know. He didn’t want to spend his life in an office, barking orders around, filing paperwork. He wanted so much more to himself. Of course, Howard couldn’t see it that way. He said he was tired of Tony’s excuses to assume his place in the world, he was tired of having supported him his entire life, just for Tony to refuse when he’s offered the post of director in the R&D department. In fact, he’s tired of Tony. He’s been tired of his son long ago. And Tony was tired of living from crumbs. Crumbs of love. That’s not what life is supposed to be.

After Maria’s death, things just got worse. Howard became a constant burden on his shoulders, always asking and demanding more of him. As if he could never be enough. As if Howard had fed him his entire life just to reap the fruits of his work now. As if Tony owes him an entire life and that he should be paying back now. Tony couldn’t see an exit to himself. He couldn’t see a light out of that. He felt like a bird constantly locked in a cage. Unable to sing his beauty. To become what he was born to: fly freely. Spreading beauty in the world.

But Howard could never understand the meaning of such simple words as no, or I’m not ready or give me more time. He crushed Tony into expectations that he may never be capable of achieving. It hurts. So after being hit, insulted, mocked, he was done, then Howard screamed for him to get the hell out of his house. His house, he emphasized. After all, Tony couldn’t be more than a mere tenant living under his father’s roof while he worked out his life.

Fuck.

He’s so fucked up.

The automatic voice sounds inside the train, letting him know that he will descend in the next station. Tony sighs, looking at the empty wagon. There is some freedom in it, to be able to walk away and don’t look back. To be able to follow his own path. But for an eighteen-year-old, unemployed, and who just had graduated, freedom is always frightening. There isn’t any expectation of life. What could he do? He’d had to work his way out of this. To start job-hunting, and conciliate it with his master’s degree, which he just had been admitted to. Scary. Terrifying. So lost.

No prospect of life. No home. Just a few banknotes and his credit cards in his wallet. A couple of clothes in his bag. Nothing to offer. Why would someone take pity on him? Why would someone take him in?

Tony tucks his headphones inside his bag, holding on a post as the rails brakes, the sound is almost comforting for the fact that tonight he has a destination in mind. Tomorrow, he will think about somewhere else. But for tonight, he prays that he can count on Steve.

For his misfortune, Howard chose to kick him out at the moment that his closest friends were far away. He didn’t know Rhodey’s location since he was on a mission for the Air Force, and Pepper was in Vancouver for the next three months. He had nowhere to go, but Steve’s.

Tony was afraid of how Steve would react when he knocked on his door at… Tony glances down at his phone, 12:41 a.m. He had hung out with Steve before, he could say that they were friends. Steve is a good friend, actually, but Tony feels more for him than he’s able to voice and since he had embarrassed Steve at a party weeks ago, when he vomited on his shoes after drinking too much, then told him he loved him in front of everyone since then Tony hasn’t answered his calls or texts until he finally stopped receiving them.

Fate is a bitch, though, and here he is asking for shelter for the very same man.

Tony strides through the streets of Brooklyn, he doesn’t know the neighborhood very well, but he knows where Steve’s building is. Tony gasps, rubbing his hands together to warm them up a little bit. It’s November, but the weather gets especially cold at night. He can see his breath whenever he exhales. Tony hurries up the stairs, getting breathless easily due to his heart condition. At least, he’d remembered to pack his medication, only enough for the next two months, though.

Because being homeless and unemployed is not enough in his list of failures, he also had to have a chronic illness.

Tony stops before the door with the number 13. He raises a fist, taking a deep breath. Steve must be sleeping, and he hates the fact that he is about to disturb him. Tony looks at the stairs again, thinking that he could wait there until morning, but Steve would be mad if he knew that Tony didn’t call him. Tony knocks hard. Harder than he should. Maybe, he should call Steve’s phone, although, after weeks without any news from him, it would look weird. It was already weird standing here in the middle of the night after confessing. Tony raises a fist again, wondering if Steve would really get up and check the door but before he could knock again, the door opens.

“Tony?” Steve frowns, staring at him. He rubs his beautiful eyes. Tony feels helpless, unable to acknowledge the emotions in his features, he can’t tell what Steve might be thinking just looking at his face.

“Steve, I-I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you up, I-” Tony starts to say.

“You didn’t. I was watching a movie,” Steve says, looking at both sides of the corridor before stepping aside. “Come in.”

Tony does. Steve locks the door behind him, throwing the keys on the kitchen counter. His apartment is small, but it’s cozy and it serves Steve well. It feels warm inside here.

“What happened? Are you okay?” Steve takes Tony's bag from his shoulder, putting it on the couch. Tony sees a movie he doesn’t know playing on the TV and a blanket and cushions on the couch. “Are you hurt?” Steve’s blue eyes scan him from top to bottom.

“No. I-I am fine,” Tony assures him.

“C’mon here. You must be cold,” Steve goes to the kitchen, and Tony follows him timidly. “It’s still hot, I made it minutes ago.” Steve hands him a mug filled with hot chocolate. It smells so good and tastes incredible when Tony takes a sip. “Nothing better than hot chocolate to warm you up,” Steve smiles.

Tony agrees, adding in his mind that there’s nothing better than hot chocolate to push away the distress in his chest. Tony rubs his eyes, feeling them dry for the fact that he had cried earlier, and Steve must’ve noticed how red and swollen they are because he asks again:

“What happened, Tony?”

Tony ponders if he should tell the truth or just invent an excuse. He ends up with the truth because it’s Steve, and he hates lying to Steve.

“My father kicked me out. I have nowhere to go.”

Steve looks… He doesn’t know how Steve looks. Pitiful? Sad? Relieved? It’s hard to know. Steve is only three years older than him; they met in an art exposition months ago in the National Academy School of Fine Arts. Pepper is passionate about Arts, and she dragged Tony along that day. It was his lucky day that Steve was exposing his work there, they ended up talking and exchanging phone numbers. After that, Tony asked him out to a few parties, one of which embarrassed Steve in front of everyone. He couldn't forget about that. But nothing really happened between the two of them, except for some stares and slight brushing of hands.

“I’m sorry, Tony.”

“I don’t wanna bother you, but--”

“Of course you can stay, Tony,” Steve cuts him off, walking in his direction.

“Oh,” Tony lets out when Steve's big arms wrap around him, pulling him into a hug. “It feels nice.” Well, Tony didn’t have the intention to say it out loud. He steps back, breaking the hug. “I-I-” what?

“Yes, it felt nice, too,” Steve looks almost fond of him, but… Tony didn’t want to get attached. He couldn’t, what if Steve didn’t love him? Tony feels already loveless. He couldn’t bear the thought of being fed with crumbs again.

“Thanks,” Tony says, he passes through Steve to wash his now empty mug. “I really appreciate it. I didn’t think you would take me in after that party.”

Steve comes to his side, a frown on his face.

“What? Why?”

“I-I embarrassed you in front of everyone. I literally threw up on your shoes, then I--” Tony stutters nervously because he always feels nervous next to Steve. The blond always gives him butterflies in the stomach, he just can’t help it.

“Oh, no. Why,” Steve shakes his head, looking confused. “Why would you think that, Tony? You almost passed out. You leaned on me all the way back. Why would you think I was mad at you?”

“Why would you not?” Tony blurted out. “You took me to my house, and I--” Tony breathes deeply. “I thought I had embarrassed you in front of your friends, I made a scene, and I told you--” he stutters. “I-I didn’t want to make it weird to you. I understand if you--” Tony shakes his head, gulping. He couldn't help but frown when Steve laughed.

“I was more worried about you than embarrassed. Trust me, Tony. You didn’t call me to tell me you were okay the next morning. I was worried. You didn’t answer my calls either. I thought you had changed your mind about what you said,” Steve sounds… sorrowful.

Tony blinks. He really thought Steve was mad at him, he really thought… Did he really misunderstand it all? It wasn’t possible, right? Steve was just being his usual self, kind and nice. He couldn’t really...

“Wait, you…” Tony points to Steve.

“You didn’t embarrass me,” Steve shrugs. “I love you, too. I called to tell you that but you didn’t answer me.”

“I--”

Tony wraps his arms around Steve’s neck, tiptoeing to reach his lips, aware of Steve’s hands sliding to his waist to support him. Tony tastes the hot chocolate in Steve’s mouth, and it somehow suits him because Steve smells like home. Everything about Steve is cozy, lovely, and adorable. Tony feels a warmth flowing through his body, the feeling of safety invades him. He knows he can trust Steve, somehow, he knows, he wants to believe that Steve will not abandon him. Perhaps, that’s a love that he can let himself get attached to.

Steve breaks the kiss, still keeping Tony in his tight embrace.

Tony rests his head against Steve’s chest. “You can stay for as long as you need, Tony,” Steve kisses the top of his head. “It’ll be okay. You’re gonna be okay.”

#steve rogers #tony stark #stony #stony fic #stevetony #steve x tony #steve rogers x tony stark #marvel #marvel fic #mcu fanfiction #hurt/comfort

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songtoyou · 4 years ago

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Epiphany - Part Four

Paring: Luke Crain x Female Reader

Chapter Rating: PG-13

Word Count: 3,080

Warnings: Talks of drug use and recovery. Swearing and self-doubt.

Description: Life has never been easy for Luke Crain. After the death of Nell, Luke realizes that he needs to make some changes. He decided to stay in Massachusetts and attend rehab. He was determined to remain on his path of sobriety. When you get assigned to be Luke’s sponsor, it opens a new door of possibilities that neither you nor Luke expected.

A/N: I am sorry that it has taken me so long to write and upload this chapter. I have not been feeling so good since I posted that last chapter. Lots of anxiety keeping me from doing things such as write. Anyway, here is the new chapter. I wanted to write about Aunt Janet. I felt that the show didn’t really tell us much about her except that she took care of the kids after the events of Hill House in 1992.

Note: Italics represent the past or past conversations.

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~Aunt Janet’s House – 2002 ~

“Luke! Hurry up, or you’re going to be late for school!” Aunt Janet yelled up the stairs.

“Luke! Come on!” exclaimed Nellie. “I’ll go check on him.”

“Thanks, sweetie,” said Janet. Her youngest nephew often worried her, especially since it was the tenth anniversary of Olivia’s death this past summer. Janet started to notice that Luke became more recluse and stayed up in his room. The only person Luke would interact with was Nell, which was not surprising to Janet. The twins only managed to become closer as they got older.

What really began to cause Janet to worry was catching Luke steal money from her purse. She asked him what he was doing and why he was stealing. However, Luke could come up with a pretty decent lie about needing money to buy flowers for Olivia’s grave.

In truth, it was to buy beer. Luke had taken a liking to the barley and hops beverage. It helped him feel numb and not worry about anything. Unfortunately, Luke had one too many beers last night and was paying for it. Nellie found him headfirst in the toilet regurgitating the contents of his late-night beer binge.

“Eww, gross. What is wrong with you?” asked Nellie. She pinched her nose as the stench of Luke’s puke was overwhelming.

“What does it look like! I’m sick! Tell Aunt Janet that I can’t go to school.”

“Luke, come on. You have missed too many days already. They’re going to hold you back another year if you miss any more school,” Nellie argued while searching through Luke’s drawers and closet for clothes.

Luke managed to get up from the bathroom floor when he felt it was safe. He rinsed out his mouth to relieve it from the after taste of throw-up.

“Come on! Get cleaned up and put these on,” ordered Nell and shoved Luke’s clothes in his arms.

Luke groaned and plopped down on his bed. “Nellie…I can’t go to school today. I’m too sick.”

“Well, your sickness is also making me sick, but I managed to get up and ready for school today. Now move it! I’ll keep bugging you if you don’t move. I’m not going to let you fall to the waste side. Do you hear me, Luke?”

“Fine! I’m getting dressed!” Luke yelled to get Nellie off of his back.

No matter what occurred between them, neither twin could ever hate the other. They were each other’s best friends and closest confidante. They had to be. Especially now that they were the last two left in Aunt Janet’s care. As soon as their eldest siblings turned eighteen, they hightailed it out of Janet’s house for college.

Luke slowly trudges down the stairs with his backpack slumped on his shoulders.

“Hey, there he is,” greeted Aunt Janet. “Would you like some breakfast, sweetie?”

“No! No breakfast,” Luke replied with his head on the table.

However, Nellie pushed a plate of dry toast in front of him and told him to at least nibble some bites. “Here’s some orange juice. Take slow sips. The last thing we need is you spewing junks in the toilet again,” whispered Nellie while Aunt Janet was in the kitchen. She would not out that her brother was hungover. That last thing Nell wanted was to cause any more trouble for Luke.

She knew why Luke did not want to go to school, and it had to do with, what else, their family. Some of the kids at school saw Luke as an easy target to bully and terrorize. The topic of their “messed-up” family was their go-to whenever they wanted to antagonize Luke. Nell often found herself a target for bullies but could stand up for herself a lot better than Luke.

With the anniversary of Olivia’s death, the bullies made it their mission to torment Luke about growing up without a mother or father. They would push him against the lockers, knocking his glasses off his face, and trip him in the hallways. It was too much to handle, and Luke was tired.

Leaning back in his chair, Luke re-read the words on the computer screen. His instructor loved the essay he turned in and advised him to expand upon it. Luke pushed aside his reservations about exploring his past traumas through writing. It was a better outlet for Luke to help cope and tackle past stressful life experiences. Not only did Luke have support from his instructor and you, but his counselor at Banyan Treatment Center, Rob, also supported the idea of using expressive writing as a way to heal.

Luke could not deny that writing helped clear his head. Something he learned while being in rehab back in Los Angeles. It allowed him to face things from his past that he had pushed aside. However, Luke had some reservations about how much he should…open himself up when it comes to sorting out his past events. There were still things that Luke was not quite ready to face.

Oh my God!" exclaimed Luke. "It has been a month and a half since we have seen that movie. It would be best if you got over the ending. It happened. There is nothing you can do about it."

"I can't, Luke. It was total bullshit!" you yelled back furiously.

Luke calmly said your name to get your attention. "Listen to me; we don't even know if Steve Rogers actually stayed back in time to be with Peggy. He may have…"

"Then where did he go? Huh? He just up and left his friends who he just got back. Steve and Peggy never even dated! They kissed, that is it. Yes, there was an attraction that each had for one another, but that was all it ever way…an attraction. They are a 'what could have been' type of couple—the movie completely throughout all of Steve's character development…right out the window. Whatever, I'm over it," you stated, throwing your hands up in defeat.

You and Luke were driving to his Aunt Janet's house for a visit. He mentioned to you about wanting to visit his aunt for some time but had not gotten around to it. You were surprised that he asked you to come along.

Luke mentioned that Shirley and Theo were too busy to come with him and did not want to go alone. You agreed on the condition that he drive since Aunt Janet lived an hour and a half away from Wilmington. Lately, your anxiety has been going up and down, so you were not comfortable being at the hands of the wheel, especially on the freeway. You did not understand why you had such anxiety these past few days. You chalked it up to being nervous about your final project at school. The assignment was to create a self-portrait. It should be simple enough, but of course, the art instructor wanted students to "think outside of the box" and not have it be a regular standard portrait of themselves.

Each draft you came up with was of you in some state of turmoil, whether it be you depicted on a gurney getting resuscitated from your heroin overdose or lying in a pool of your own vomit. You could not understand why this particular project was giving you such a hard time. You were three-years sober. You had a steady job and gone back to school. Your relationship with your parents was better than ever. So, why the thought of a self-portrait brought upon negative thoughts about oneself?

You mentioned your troubles to Luke, and he was very sympathetic. While he was now 206 days sober, there were times where he felt…like the achievement did not mean much.

"What do you mean by that?" you asked him while on the way to Aunt Janet's house.

"It's just…this isn't my first rodeo when it comes to recovery," Luke began to say. "There is always this little voice in the back of my head that…"

"That it is only temporary. I have that little voice too. I'm not too fond of that little voice. Three years sober, and there are times where I still feel like a total failure. I shouldn't, but…I can't help it," you revealed to Luke honestly.

"Thankfully, there is another little voice in the back of my head that gives tells me that I'm doing a good job now and then. It's just that positive little voice has been a tad quiet lately," you added.

Luke could pick up on the little defeatist tone in your voice, and he did not like it. You immediately felt his worry about you. "Hey," you said to get his attention and placed a hand on his arm. "Don't worry about me, okay. I'm fine. I have my fears like every recovering addict. It is nice to talk to someone about it, particularly someone who understands, you know. That helps."

Silence soon filled the car, but it was not awkward. You never had awkward or uncomfortable silences with Luke. For some reason, Luke was one of the few comforting presences in your life. Regardless of all of the hardships he has gone through in his life, he offered a sense of hopefulness. With his 6'3 stature, Luke really came off more like a gentle giant. It was like he did not view himself as this grown tall man, but probably still felt like that little kid hiding under the bed from the "Tall Man" at Hill House.

"Luke," you said to get his attention. "Are you happy?"

"No," he replied immediately, then clarified when he saw the look you gave him. "I mean, am I happy that I am over 200 days clean, then yes I am, very much so. But…I don't know, there is a small part of me that is scared to be happy…to be content in fear of something going wrong."

When Luke pulled the car into Aunt Janet's driveway, the older woman immediately came out of the house to greet her youngest nephew.

"There he is, my little boy," she said and wrapped her arms around Luke, which he reciprocated.

"Hi Aunt Janet, how are you?"

"I'm fine, darling. How have you been?" Aunt Janet asked, pulling away to get a good look at Luke. He looked much better than he did at Nell's funeral.

"Good. I'm doing good. Everyone is doing…fine," Luke replied, then turned towards you. He introduced you as his friend and not his sponsor to his Aunt, which kind of surprised you.

"So nice to meet you," said Aunt Janet taking your hand. She motioned for you both to follow her into the house. "I hope you both are hungry. I made an array of sandwiches and salads for lunch. Luke, I also made your favorite…chocolate pecan pie bars."

"Thank the Lord because he was hoping you would make them on the car ride here. It was all he talked about?" you teased.

"Once you have one, then you will know what I am talking about," Luke responded with a smile.

Aunt Janet lead you both into the kitchen.

"Can I use the bathroom to freshen up?" you asked her.

"Oh yes, dear. It is down that hallway, the first door to the right," told Aunt Janet as she showed you where to go. "Luke, you should probably wash your hands first," she added.

"Yes, Aunt Janet," he said and went to the sink to wash his hands.

When you were no longer in earshot, Aunt Janet stood beside her nephew and said, "Your friend seems really sweet."

Luke could not hold back his smile, "Yeah, she is genuinely nice. She's fun to hang out with. We have a lot of the same interests. Shirley and Theo have met her as well," he mentioned and shared that both of his sisters really liked you.

Aunt Janet turned her head to see if you came if you were around the corner. When you were not, she leaned over to Luke and said, "Very pretty too. She'd make a lovely…"

"Aunt Janet, she is just a friend. I can't date her anyway. She's…they say you shouldn't date anyone while still in recovery."

"I'm so proud of you," Aunt Janet said as she placed the food on the kitchen table. "You are becoming the man I always knew you could be."

Luke would be lying to himself if he denied that there was some form of attraction that he had for you, both physically and emotionally. He knew that the feelings that he was slowly developing towards you could be considered wrong. You were his sponsor…a dedicated one at that too. It would not be right for him to act on any attraction he may have for you—no doubt, that you would not reciprocate them, which would be disappointing to Luke.

"Better to just suffer in silence," Luke thought to himself.

"Don't you want a girlfriend? A family of your own someday?" asked Aunt Janet.

"Yeah…maybe. Someday. I'm just learning to take care of myself without drugs in my system. There is no way I can be a dedicated father or husband to anyone… at least not right now. I am still a work in progress," Luke admitted to his aunt. "I do like…" But Luke stopped when he heard your footsteps approaching.

"Oh, my goodness. The pictures on the wall… I'm assuming the little kid with glasses is you, Luke."

The three of you sat around the kitchen table with your plates stacked with delicious food.

"Luke was the absolute cutest kid. He had a little lisp as well," Aunt Janet shared. "I have more pictures of the kids if you would like to see them?"

"Yes," you replied ecstatically.

"No," Luke disputed, "We are in the middle of eating."

"We can multitask. Let's see those pictures," you asserted gleefully while Aunt Janet got up from the table.

With a belly full of food, the three you were now sitting outside on the patio, drinking tea, and eating Aunt Janet's yummy chocolate pecan pie bars. You already looked through three photo albums that showed Luke and his siblings' younger years.

"I wanted to take as many pictures as I could of the kids. They hated it, but I told 'em they would appreciate it when they got older," expressed Aunt Janet. "Here's a picture of Nell on her wedding day. That's her husband, Arthur. Sadly, he passed away a couple of months after they got married. But…they are together now."

You looked at the photo of the young couple. Nell looked very much like her older sisters and her mother. You could tell that there was a kindness about Nell just by looking at the picture. She was the type of person to go above and beyond for her family and even strangers. Luke would say that Nell was just that type of person to care about everyone, no matter who they were or where they came from.

Luke did share with you that one of his biggest regrets was not going to Nell's wedding. He said that he tried, but Shirley told him to leave. Luke said that it was for the best and that he was in no right state of mind to support his twin the way she deserved on her wedding day.

Thankfully for Luke, Nell understood and held no hard feelings. She never did when it came to her other half.

Aunt Janet began to sniffle, and when you looked up from the photo, you saw the older woman dab her eyes with a napkin. Out of instinct, Luke grabbed his Aunt's tiny hand and squeezed it with his as a way to show support. Just as he was Aunt Janet's little boy, Nell was her little girl. She was the one to raise them, take care of them, and guide them into adulthood.

None of the Crain children were perfect; they were far beyond that notion. However, there is no denying that if they did not have Aunt Janet take care of them and love them, they could have been worse off. Luke had the overwhelming feeling of guilt encompassing him at the moment as Aunt Janet tried to hold back her tears.

You instantly looked up at Luke. You could feel his sense of guilt towards the way he treated his aunt while growing up. He looked over at you. It was a silent conversation you both were having between one another. You mouthed, "Do you want me to go?" so he could have this moment alone.

With a shake of his head, 'No,' Luke spoke up to get his aunt's attention. "Aunt Janet…I'm sorry. I'm sorry for…for all the Hell I put you through while living here. You did so much for Nell and me, and the others that I…shit all over it. I stole and lied to you like it was my job. You deserved better. I just want you to know that…me getting hooked on drugs…well…that was…no matter what had happened…it was my choice to go down that path of destruction. I love you, Aunt Janet, and I am so appreciative of the sacrifices you made for my siblings and me. I wish that I weren't such a fuck up…"

"Oh sweetheart, no, you are not a…fuck up," Aunt Janet interjected and continued, "Not at all. I love you so much that…I would do anything for you, you know that, right? Your childhood is in the past. It happened. It is a part of you. The fact that you are continuing to remain clean after all that has occurred…well, that is something you should be most proud of. It shows that you are dedicated to your sobriety and turning your life around. No one said this process was easy, but you stayed the course and continued to make good decisions. As I told you earlier, you are becoming the man I always knew you could be."

"Now, I'm going to cry," Luke giggled as he dabbed his eyes with a napkin. "I didn't mean to turn this into a sob fest, but I wanted you to know that I'm sorry for what I put you through and that I love you very much, Aunt Janet."

Aunt Janet emerged from her seat to wrap her arms around her nephew and kiss the top of his head. It was a sweet moment to witness.

#luke crain #luke crain x reader #luke crain x female reader #the haunting of hill house #oliver jackson cohen

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