#going to post one of these this time each day for a week and then ill do the same next month bc my rec list is long and narrowing this down

[sutherlins]

↳ #STREETS by @xblackreader [WIP - 13K | Rated M]

☆ a resurrected socmed au “his record, background and hearsay from news outlets and media won’t change her mind. Sydney Adamu is in love with Carmen Berzatto; guilty or not.”

sutherlins fic appreciation week (please show the fics love, kudos, and comments on ao3!)

This fic has made me lose my mind multiple times. I've yelled about it on ao3, I've yelled about it in DM's, and now consider this me yelling about it on main. The amount of work and thought that has gone into this fic is incredible. Each chapter blows me away, the writing is next level and the social media/texts add so much. You can't help but be pulled into the world of Carmen 'Alleged is crazy I did that shit' Berzatto and Sydney 'America's sweetheart' Adamu. It's funny, it's hot, it's sweet. I love it so much 😩 I got yelled at to chew my food because I devoured the last chapter so fast but call me Carmy Berzatto bc munch fucking munch!!!

Please go read if you haven't already, and show some love over on ao3! (ps. I'm doing 7 of these this month and intend to make this a monthly thing!)

[spacegyaru]

DON'T LOOK AT IT! PT. 3

your phone got lost for some reasons. the following day, the sex tape you made with your boyfriend (rin, isagi, chigiri) was all around the internet. how would they react?

cw: r18+, mdni! mentions of sex tape and implied sex. humiliation. mirror sex on chigiri’s part + angst. somewhat angst and comfort. a little bit toxic from rin’s part!

a/n: this is the last part!! unfortunately, i don’t have that much energy to continue this series further and might start writing for another idea 😭🥺i hope u guys understand!!

masterlist | part 1 (shidou, kaiser, bachira, & sae) | part 2 (reo, nagi, hiyori, otoya, and yukimiya)

rin itoshi:

sorry to tell you guys, but his gf has to be a little bratty and naughty enough to provoke him into making a sex tape. i imagine him doing it out of jealousy, he wanna make you moan his name loud while he takes you all-fours and biting your neck a little bit. all after seeing how isagi was being a little bit too friendly towards you.

and that's exactly what people saw on the video. you remember your phone being pickpocketed while you were out for a shopping. when it got lost, rin scolded you a little bit, and reminding you of the video you guys made. you were the one who insisted that he shouldn’t think too much cuz ya boi was overthinking. but his hunches and gut feeling prevailed. the next few days, your name was all over the news.

rin’s team worked on the damage control. he was hesitant to post a public apology, but he did anyways. unlike his brother who has a ‘idgaf’ attitude, rin cares a lot; he cares a lot about his image and your image too. it’s just plainly embarrassing for him.

when you started isolating yourself due to the humiliation you were going thru, rin tried to comfort you.he was never good with words and may have appeared harsh the way he said it, but you knew what he truly meant. you gave him a hug and a kiss due to his attempt to comfort you.

“babe, i know how much you hated it whenever i say ‘i told you so’ so i’ll try not to make you feel worse. but try not to worry about what other people say. don’t check your phone too much. it doesn't matter what they think. what matters most is what we think of each other .”

yoichi isagi:

fuck, even i am wondering. how did this guy have a sex tape? well, it was your idea, but you didn’t think that your bf, isagi, would be super into it. both of you ended up making two-three sex tapes together. at first, it was embarrassing for him. but then once he’s inside you, he gets all pussy drunk and hell breaks. all that can be heard in the background was the loud bed creaks, along with your moans and his groans. your legs are all over the place, while he held your thighs. the lights were a bit dim, but both of your faces were visible.

the following week, you lost your phone while you were sightseeing all alone. you didn’t think that much of it. but the following day, that very same video you created with isagi, was all over the internet. both of your names were mentioned in twitter and apparently, he was placed in trending.

although isagi was very much embarrassed by what happened, he never blamed you for it. he asked his team to focus on the damage control while he released a public apology, addressing what happened. he explained that you lost your phone while on a trip, and are now taking the proper measures to track whoever did spread the video. isagi couldn’t stop apologizing. everyone knew how harsh he speaks whenever he’s at football matches but this time, he seemed like a dorky apologetic machine.

when isagi realized how humiliated you seemed to be, he immediately prepared a romantic dinner for the both of you, buying some wine and steak for the both of you to enjoy. he also bought a bouquet of flowers for you. then he rented a private ship for the both of you, so you could spend time together and get things off your head for a while.

“love, you don’t have to blamed yourself for what happened, you know? sometimes, there are just things that are out of our control and this happens to be one of them. let’s get this off your mind for now, okay?”

hyoma chigiri:

okay so if you wanna do anything new with this guy, you should initiate it because he’s very much of a vanilla. that’s how you ended up having a sex tape with him. the crazy thing is, he was the one holding the camera. you were riding him in a cowgirl position, your ass was bouncing as you went up and down on him. your room was surrounded by mirrors, so chigiri was recording your reflection. his hands were shaking as he was feeling too much pleasure from your pussy. so far, he was able to record almost everything, but he ended up dropping the phone when he orgasmed.

one day, you lost your phone after a long day at work, but then again, you didn’t think anything of it. you just thought of buying a new one instead. but then few days later, you suddenly see your boyfriend’s name on twitter’s trending. when you clicked the link, that exact mirror sex videos were all over the internet. you just sighed upon seeing those. you never expected them to reach online but here they are.

given the situation, you didn’t even have that much space to comfort yourself because you just saw how down and embarrassed your boyfriend looked. he was able to release a public statement, and his pr team did the damage control. but he was so affected by people’s comments about his masculinity. well, the question about this didn’t really matter to him, but what affected him the most is how people would say how ‘hot’ you are and that you deserve someone more dominating and masculine. he was more affected on what people say about you, rather than what people say about him.

so your night with him ended up being a comfort-fest. both of you lay on the bed with hands holding together while you reassure him that what other people said isn’t true. that you only need him to satisfy you and no one else. you thought your night would be sweet and peaceful. until your small cuddle moment turned into a heated making-out session with chigiri hovering on top of you.

“babe, i love how hot you are whenever you're on top of me. i love how your body bounces and tell me how you make me feel good. but what about let me do the work tonight? i'll let you feel every part of me while i dominate you.”

[mybelovedwoo]

secretly close

seonghwa x f!reader

fluff, forbidden love/ wc: 2.0k

warnings: jealousy, a lost little kiddo, anxiety, tension between two people, unsaid feelings

note: hey guys! i hope you liked this little comeback, i swear i'll try to post more frequently again. i missed you. lots of love from yours truly <3

seonghwa masterlist - main masterlist

Y/n and Seonghwa had grown closer over the past few weeks. Their initial connection had blossomed into a deep, meaningful friendship. They texted all the time, sharing jokes, life updates, and random thoughts throughout the day. But they both knew they couldn't tell Yunho or Y/n's sister about it. They wouldn't understand the bond that had developed between them.

One sunny afternoon, Seonghwa texted Y/n, suggesting they meet up for coffee. Y/n eagerly agreed, happy for any excuse to see him.

Seonghwa: Hey, want to grab some coffee today? There's a new café I've been wanting to check out.

Y/n: That sounds perfect! I could use a break. 😊

They met at the cozy little café, tucked away in a quiet corner of the city. The warm aroma of freshly brewed coffee greeted them as they walked in. They ordered their drinks—an iced Americano for Seonghwa and a caramel macchiato for Y/n—and found a small table by the window.

"This place is really nice," Y/n said, taking a sip of her drink. "I love the atmosphere."

"Yeah, it's pretty cool," Seonghwa agreed, smiling. "How have you been? How are your classes going?"

Y/n sighed, a hint of frustration in her eyes. "They're tough, but I'm managing. It helps to have distractions, like hanging out with you."

Seonghwa chuckled. "Glad I can be of service. Work has been crazy for me too. But I guess we're both just surviving the chaos, huh?"

They continued chatting, their conversation flowing effortlessly. They talked about everything from their favorite movies to their dreams for the future. The chemistry between them was undeniable, and they frequently found themselves sharing knowing looks and inside jokes.

After finishing their coffee, they decided to go for a walk. The weather was perfect, with a gentle breeze and a clear blue sky. They strolled through a nearby park, enjoying the tranquility and each other's company.

As they walked, Y/n found herself glancing at Seonghwa, admiring his profile. She appreciated how thoughtful and kind he was, always making her feel comfortable and valued.

Seonghwa, on the other hand, was captivated by Y/n's bubbly personality and the way her laughter lit up her face. He felt a connection with her that he couldn't quite explain, but he knew it was special.

They came across a food stand selling Sotteok Sotteok—skewers of rice cakes and sausages. Seonghwa's eyes lit up. "Want to grab some? I'm starving."

"Definitely," Y/n agreed, her mouth watering at the thought.

As they approached the stand, the girl working there flashed a bright smile at Seonghwa. "Hey there, what can I get for you?"

"We'll take two Sotteok Sotteok, please," Seonghwa said, returning the smile.

The girl quickly prepared the skewers and handed them over. "Here you go. You know, you have a really nice smile," she said, batting her eyelashes at Seonghwa.

Y/n felt a pang of discomfort. She knew she had no right to feel jealous—they were just friends, after all. But she couldn't help the uneasy feeling that settled in her stomach.

The girl wasn't done. "So, do you come here often? I'd remember a face like yours," she continued, leaning a bit closer to Seonghwa.

Seonghwa, completely oblivious to her intentions, smiled politely. "Not really. This is my first time here."

"Well, you should definitely come back," the girl said, her eyes twinkling. "Maybe next time, I can give you a special discount."

Y/n stood behind Seonghwa, feeling more uncomfortable with each passing moment. She tried to focus on the positive—how nice the day had been, how much fun she was having with Seonghwa—but it was hard to ignore the flutter of unease in her chest.

Seonghwa, still clueless, nodded. "That sounds nice. Thanks for the offer."

Y/n couldn't stay silent any longer. "Are we ready to go, Seonghwa?" she asked, her voice a bit sharper than intended.

Seonghwa turned to her, a bit surprised. "Oh, yeah. Let's find a place to sit and enjoy these."

As they walked away, Y/n tried to shake off her discomfort. She knew Seonghwa wasn't encouraging the girl, but it still bothered her more than she wanted to admit.

They found an empty bench and sat down, enjoying their Sotteok Sotteok and the peaceful surroundings. Y/n decided to change the subject and lighten the mood.

"So, do you get offers like that often?" she teased, trying to keep her tone light.

Seonghwa laughed, looking a bit confused. "Not really. I think she was just being friendly."

Y/n rolled her eyes playfully. "Sure, friendly."

They continued chatting, the playful banter flowing naturally. Despite her earlier discomfort, Y/n found herself relaxing and enjoying their conversation.  The park was serene, with families enjoying picnics and children playing nearby.

Just as they were about to take another bite of their Sotteok Sotteok, a little girl no more than six years old approached them. Her eyes were wide with worry, and she tugged on Seonghwa's sleeve.

"Excuse me, mister," the girl said, her voice trembling slightly. "I can't find my mommy. Can you help me?"

Seonghwa and Y/n exchanged a quick glance, their playful banter giving way to concern. Y/n immediately knelt down to the girl's eye level, trying to comfort her.

"Hey, sweetie, it's okay," Y/n said gently. "Let's help you find your mommy. Can you tell us where you last saw her?"

The little girl nodded, her lower lip quivering. "Over there," she pointed towards a crowded area of the park.

Seonghwa placed a reassuring hand on the girl's shoulder. "Don't worry, we'll help you find her," he said with a reassuring smile.

Y/n and Seonghwa followed the little girl through the park, scanning the area for any signs of the girl's mother. Y/n felt a rush of empathy for the child, imagining the fear and confusion she must be experiencing.

As they approached a larger group of people, they spotted a woman frantically calling out the girl's name. Relief washed over the woman's face as she saw her daughter running towards her.

"Mama!" the little girl exclaimed, throwing herself into her mother's arms.

The woman hugged her tightly, tears of relief streaming down her face. "Oh, thank you! Thank you so much for finding her!"

Y/n smiled warmly, relieved that the situation had a happy ending. "It's no problem at all. We're just glad she's safe."

Seonghwa nodded in agreement. "She's a brave girl for finding us and asking for help."

The woman turned to Y/n and Seonghwa, her expression filled with gratitude. "Thank you both again. I don't know what I would have done if you hadn't found her."

Y/n waved off the thanks. "We're just glad everything turned out okay."

After ensuring the little girl and her mother were safely reunited, Y/n and Seonghwa started heading back home. The park had quieted down, and the sun was starting to dip lower in the sky. They walked side by side, talking and laughing about random things, the earlier tension dissolving into the background.

As they strolled along the path, Seonghwa was telling a particularly funny story about his misadventures with Legos when suddenly, the sky opened up and rain began to pour heavily.

"Oh no!" Y/n exclaimed, looking up at the darkening sky. "We don't have an umbrella!"

Seonghwa glanced around, then grabbed Y/n's hand. "Come on, let's find some shelter!" he shouted over the sound of the rain.

They sprinted down the street, dodging puddles and laughing despite the downpour. After a few moments, Seonghwa spotted a doorway of a small, closed café and pulled Y/n under the awning. They were both soaked to the skin, rainwater dripping from their hair and clothes.

Breathless and shivering slightly from the cold, they looked at each other and started laughing about the whole situation.

"This is crazy!" Y/n said between giggles, wiping water from her face.

"Yeah, it's like a scene from a movie," Seonghwa agreed, chuckling. But then he stopped laughing, his expression turning serious.

Y/n noticed the change and her laughter faded too. The air between them seemed to thicken, the playful atmosphere replaced by something more intense. Seonghwa's eyes searched hers, and she felt her heart begin to race.

He reached out slowly, gently pushing a stray strand of hair behind her ear. His fingers lingered for a moment, and Y/n felt a shiver that had nothing to do with the cold.

"How can you be this pretty even like this?" Seonghwa said softly, his eyes locked on hers.

Y/n felt her cheeks flush. She didn't know what to say. Pretty? Me? she thought. Then what about you, you're seriously so handsome. But she couldn't bring herself to say it out loud.

Instead, she stammered, "I-I... um, thank you. You're too kind."

Seonghwa noticed how Y/n was shivering, her damp clothes clinging to her and her lips slightly blue from the cold. Concern filled his eyes as he gently rubbed her arms, trying to warm her up.

"Let's get you home," Seonghwa said, his voice firm yet caring.

Y/n nodded, grateful for his thoughtfulness. They stepped back into the rain, which seemed to have no intention of letting up. Seonghwa kept a protective arm around her, guiding her through the slick streets. Their earlier playfulness had given way to a quiet, mutual understanding.

By the time they reached Y/n's apartment, they were both thoroughly drenched. Seonghwa walked her to the door, lingering for a moment.

"Thank you for today," Y/n said, looking up at him with a soft smile. "I had a great time, despite the rain."

"Me too," Seonghwa replied. "Get inside and dry off. I'll see you soon."

Y/n nodded, giving him one last smile before stepping into her apartment. Seonghwa waited until he heard the door lock behind her, ensuring she was safely inside. With a sigh, he turned and started the walk back to his own place, his thoughts swirling.

As he walked through the rain, Seonghwa replayed the day's events in his mind. The laughter, the unexpected moments, and the connection he felt with Y/n. He couldn't deny his feelings any longer; they were too strong to ignore. But what would he do about them? How would he navigate this complicated situation with Yunho and Y/n's sister?

By the time he reached his apartment, he was soaked to the bone and deep in thought. He opened the door to find Yunho lounging on the couch, scrolling through his phone. Yunho looked up, his eyes widening in surprise at the sight of his drenched friend.

"Seonghwa! What happened to you?" Yunho exclaimed, sitting up.

Seonghwa shook off some of the excess water and managed a sheepish grin. "Got caught in the rain. Long story."

Yunho chuckled, shaking his head. "You look like you swam home. Seriously, what happened?"

Seonghwa sighed, running a hand through his wet hair. "It's a bit of a story. I was with Y/n, and we ended up helping a lost little girl find her mom. Then the rain started, and we got soaked trying to get back."

Yunho raised an eyebrow, a knowing smirk on his face. "You and Y/n, huh? You two seem to be spending a lot of time together lately."

Seonghwa felt his cheeks heat up but tried to play it cool. "Yeah, she's great company. We get along really well."

"Uh-huh," Yunho said, his smirk widening. "Just friends, right?"

Seonghwa's heart skipped a beat. He wanted to tell Yunho everything, but the timing didn't feel right. "Yeah, just friends," he lied, hoping his friend would drop the subject.

Yunho's expression shifted to something more serious. "Good. Because if you had decided to mess around with my girlfriend's little sister, that would have been a whole mess. And she is my little sister too, after all. I look at her that way, and I wouldn't want to ask you to leave her alone, bro. So I'm glad you're just friends."

Seonghwa felt a lump form in his throat. He forced a smile and nodded. "Yeah, I understand."

"Great," Yunho said, clapping Seonghwa on the shoulder. "Now go get changed before you catch a cold. And next time, take an umbrella."

Seonghwa laughed weakly, grateful for the momentary reprieve. "Yeah, yeah. I'll remember that."

As he headed to his room to dry off and change, Seonghwa's thoughts returned to Y/n. He knew he had to figure out his feelings and what to do about them. But for now, he was content with the memory of their day together and the hope of what could be.

-

taglist: @dinossaurz @soso59love-blog @tiredlittlevirgo @everythingboutkpop@engentiny @abibliolife @k-zuzu @ateezswonderland @oc3anfloor

[thebroccolination]

THAMEPO: EPISODES 10, 11, & 12 PREDICTION + MIDPOINT ANALYSIS

Okay so!

Next week's gonna be great.

We get the Consequences of Their Actions AND the only thing I love more than Jealous Thame: Protective Thame.

The teaser for episode 10 suggests that Miss (angel of my heart) Pemika has discovered Po's involvement in the resurrection of MARS and fires him. It's possible that she didn't know about his relationship with Thame, but I imagine Thame confronting her and being Feral Boyfriend at her will speedrun that part.

But I also think Pemika put pressure on Pepper and Gam to end their relationship.

In my episode 6 prediction post, I wrote:

Thame, having realized he’s falling in love with Po, will try to convince Pepper that he can have both. He can date and be part of MARS. In Thame’s mind, if he can establish a precedent for a member dating and not threaten the group’s survival, then Thame and Po won’t have as big of a struggle convincing the company to let them date.

At the end of episode 6, Thame and Pepper both decided to choose love and career, which means that narratively, Pepper's relationship is likely going to take the fall first.

Because my long-term prediction in that post was this:

My guess is that Pepper is dating a woman in order for the narrative to show how much more dangerous a relationship between two men will be to MARS. If even a conventional relationship is enough to threaten Pepper’s status in the group, imagine one that isn’t. […] But to satisfy the narrative structure of the stakes rising while disrupting the so-far smooth sailing of bringing MARS back together, I think Pepper will feel pressured enough to break up with the person he loves for MARS. This will put Thame in an even more uncomfortable position: he’ll have seen the risk of pursuing something with Po, he’ll have seen a friend’s relationship ruined and thus potentially feel guilty for pursuing something with Po, and we know he’ll choose love anyway because that’s the kind of show this is. (And y’know, because we’ve seen the trailer.)

See, in the preview for episode 10, we get this shot:

and judging by the framing of this same scene in the trailer, of Pepper being in the center with Thame and Nano comforting/supporting him,

we're probably getting a press conference scene where Pepper addresses the end of his relationship with Gam. (Also, Thame and Pepper are the two in relationships, and they're the two looking at each other.)

Midpoints generally follow one of two trajectories: False Victory or False Defeat. In a False Defeat, things go badly for our protagonist, and that raises the stakes and tension throughout the second half of the story.

[Spoilers for Be My Favorite start here]

The midpoint of Be My Favorite, for example, is a False Defeat.

Kawi kisses Pisaeng while drunk, which is the only way he can face how he feels and act on it, but when he tries to talk to Pisaeng about it the next day, Pisaeng shuts the conversation down. Pisaeng's constant flaw in the series is avoidance, which he leans on hard here.

This midpoint leads to Kawi time-traveling forward into The Worst Timeline. Because Kawi and Pisaeng didn't have that one crucial conversation about their first kiss, Kawi has developed alcoholism as a crutch and Pisaeng has committed to his life of avoidance. When Kawi still insists on chasing after him, Pisaeng walks out on Kawi entirely.

As a result, the consequences of the False Defeat midpoint raises the stakes for both of them. Kawi has to try twice as hard to express himself without substances to help, and Pisaeng has to force himself to confront issues instead of constantly hiding from and avoiding them.

[Spoilers for Be My Favorite end here]

ThamePo, on the other hand, had a False Victory Midpoint in episode 6 with Thame successfully persuading Pepper to commit to Gam and MARS. That success spurs Thame on, leading him to pursue Po more and more seriously, egged on further by his low-stakes competition with Jun.

But even though the trajectory for Thame and Po has been going up in episodes 7, 8, and 9, the audience knows there are threats on the sidelines. That's what makes it a False Victory: Thame and Po are riding on a high from the midpoint, taking risks that will lead to the All Is Lost, the place in the narrative where our protagonist is at their lowest point (what Thai BL fans call the Episode 11 Curse).

Episode 10 will probably see Pepper's relationship taken out first.

I initially thought it would be Pepper breaking up with Gam, but having rewatched her scene with Thame in episode 6, now I think it might be Gam who decides to end things.

Something about the way she looks away toward the end of the scene tells me she has reservations.

The separation of Pepper and Gam, a conventionally gendered couple who have been together for a while, would heighten the threat to Thame and Po who are both men and in the fledgling phase of their relationship. That "ticking time bomb" Pepper mentioned in episode 6 is going to explode in episode 10.

From there, we have a bunch of scenes and dialogue from the trailer that I presume will appear in episode 11:

The trailer repeats Jun's line to Po about a relationship with Thame being impossible.

And then we get Thame saying this:

"No matter what happens, I'll never lose my friends(/members) or you."

So, y'know, standard happy ending fare, and I'm happy to report that I have no idea how it'll happen, but I do think it'll be some mirror of Earn. Especially given how determinedly Thame erased Earn's residue in Po's life in episode 9, there will probably be a very public declaration from Thame. Not necessarily that he loves Po, though I'm sure that'll be part of it, but more an acknowledgement of how instrumental Po was in saving and safeguarding MARS, which is more Thame's family than his biological family.

Since Earn wouldn't recognize Po, Thame will, and that will complete both their arcs. Po getting the validation he's longed for, and Thame being selfish enough to risk everything for something he wants.

/thamepo dismount

[raayllum]

fics of mine to check out if you haven't, a non-comprehensive list (and some co-written with thosefiveadoraburrs)

MULTI-CHAP:

21 days: They say it takes 21 days to form a habit. // Rayllum from 1x03-3x05. 14k, Complete

looking for a way to break in: Canon divergence/AU. In a world where the moral lines of Dark Magic are less evenly divided, Rayla is a Moonshadow elf in the service of the royal family of Katolis. Rayla is Prince Callum's bodyguard AU, slowburn. Complete, 97k.

if heaven and hell decide: Claudia convinces Soren to play the long game. OR: a post 2x03, canon divergence where Claudia and Soren travel with the trio rather than betraying them right away. 53k, Complete

love you again: AU as of S3. A prominent mage and on the cusp of his thirtieth birthday, Callum thinks he’s finally starting to truly leave the past behind. Until a kid claiming to be Rayla’s shows up on his doorstep, that is, asking for his help. Ongoing.

Horizons: Callum and Rayla make their way from the Starscraper to the Nexus. Set during S6; rated E. Twoshot

Teach Me How to Name the Bigger Light: Fanon S6 with a strange amount of overlap with canon S7 and speculative S8. 115k, Ongoing, probably the best thing(s) I've ever written fandom wise

(if time is money then) i'll spend it all for you: Runaan and Rayla's parents are de-coined. Now it's time to adjust to how the world and their daughter has changed, including her relationship with one particular human. 146k, Complete, canon up to S3.

as the poets say: When Amaya is accidentally caught up in a Sunfire prophecy and its subsequent ritual, her and Janai's journey to Mount Helios may finally force the two to confront their feelings for each other. Janaya, twoshot

ONESHOTS:

this fall just might kill me: Callum goes to the Sunfire elves to be purified in hopes of ridding himself of Aaravos' hold on him. It doesn't quite go according to plan. Rayllum, oneshot (canon up to S5), 7k

say the wind won't change on us: Callum discovers that Rayla came back to Katolis, secretly injured with a slow-acting curse, when they're already two weeks deep into sailing the Sea of the Cast Out. Arguments, caretaking, and the search for a cure ensues. 11k

a frightening thought: Soren thinks he may be falling in love with Corvus. This is a problem for more reasons than one. Sorvus, Rayllum, Soren&Callum

Hard to Please: A rumour regarding the prince of Katolis starts when he keeps rejecting proposals. 6k, set during the post s3 timeskip

will not be denied: Per the monarchs of old, King Ezran is visited by Lady Justice in a dream. 1.5k

i care if i am guilty: The Moon primal has its own consequences in store for Rayla’s choices. 3.8k

just wait for me to come home: Canon up until S3. Rayla runs and Callum chases her. It’s their own cycle to break. OR: the post-TTM reunion fic with a whole lot of angst. 16.8k

[the-unidentified-author]

The Lord, The Lady and The Long Winter | Cregan Stark | House of the Dragon

Chapter 2/5?: The Wolf of the North

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 - Comming soon

Cregan Stark x House Baratheon Reader

One or more parts in this story will include the following:

Warnings/ Tags: SMUT[NSFW}, smut, minors DNI, new relationship, arguments, harsh words,longing, p in v, creampie, cum play, a little rough, Cunnilingus, fingering, consensual!, hes a big man, orgasm denial, one orgasm after another 🚨SLOW BURN🚨

Summary: You’re betrothed to Cregan Stark. The pair of you navigate this relationship of convenience and perhaps even find love.

Word Count: 3,317

*Not my Gif

A/N RANT: I find writing easy. I just splat ideas down on the page. It’s the editing that really gets me. I spend so much time deleting and rewriting, googling synonyms because somehow I’ve managed to use the same word 4,000 times in the last twenty sentences. Agonising over the wording and then Word for some reason trying to make me spell things in american. Then the grammar actually sends me over the edge, Word telling me that there should be a comma, so I add a comma and then no that’s wrong there shouldn’t be a comma there. It actually makes me go feral. Anyway, if anyone wonders why it takes me so long to post more parts, these are some of the reasons.

Chapter 1

It had taken a little over a month for your father and your entourage to reach the castle of Winterfell. As you journeyed, the number of layers and furs you wore in the carriage increased, each piece a necessary defence against the northern chill. It was the last day of the trip, and you were thankful it had finally come to an end, eager to sleep in the same bed for more than one night in a row. You stepped up into the carriage and turned to your father, who was already seated, his expression one of calm reassurance. "Almost there," he said, his voice steady as he attempted a smile.

You averted your gaze, sitting down and looking out at the landscape that unfolded outside. A heavy blanket of snow cloaked the ground, transforming the world into a vast, seamless expanse of white. The trees stood tall and skeletal, their branches laden with frost that sparkled like diamonds in the weak and low winter sun. Occasionally, the wind howled through the barren branches, sending a shiver down your spine and creating an eerie symphony that filled the otherwise still air.

The world outside seemed lifeless, devoid of colour and warmth—how you longed for the vibrant greens and the golden hues of the south, of home. You hadn’t seen an animal for more than a week, and the silence felt oppressive, magnifying the sense of isolation that you felt. Your mind wandered to what your sisters would be doing right now, likely studying or playing in the garden with your mother watching sewing something beautiful as she always was. A lump formed in your throat as you thought about how long it would be until you saw them again. This new landscape was as much a part of your new life as your upcoming marriage; it revealed in its stark beauty but also served as a constant reminder of the challenges that lay ahead. With the shutter closed, you felt a growing knot of anxiety within you, the weight of the impending changes heavy as the snow that blanketed the ground.

At some point, you had fallen asleep, though you couldn't recall when. The anticipation of the day had kept you awake through most of the night, and the uncomfortable seat of the carriage left your body aching. But then, the resounding blast of trumpets heralding your arrival jolted you from your sleep.

“Are we here?" you asked, glancing at your father, whose expression was distant, as if lost in thought.

"Yes," he replied, turning his gaze to meet yours.

"How long do we have before meeting the Starks?" you asked, smoothing your clothes and hoping the nap hadn’t left your hair in disarray.

"Lord Stark will greet us as soon as we step out of the carriage," your father replied, straightening in his seat.

"What? Aren’t we meeting in the hall after we've freshened up?" you exclaimed, taken aback by the immediacy, realising just how soon you'd face the man who’d share your future.

"Ah, but they're Northerners," your father said with a dismissive wave, "They'd find you lovely even in rags." The carriage lurched forward, jolting you both, as your heart raced.

You thought you would have just a little more time, a chance to gather your thoughts and brace yourself for the momentous introduction. Panic rose inside you as it became clear you had mere minutes before meeting the man who would be your husband.

Your heart raced with a flurry of questions and doubts. Would he be as the tales described—harsh and unyielding as the Northern winters—or might there be warmth beneath the layers of fur and Stoic silence? The uncertainties swirled, each more daunting than the last, wrapping around your thoughts like a relentless blizzard.

You fidgeted with the edge of your cloak, trying to calm the rising tide of unease. What if your mannerisms seemed too foreign, your presence too delicate for the rugged North? At this moment, you realised your entire future might rely on one singular, daunting introduction.

You focused on your breathing, counting each inhale and exhale slowly to five, as your mother had taught you to do in moments of unease. Her voice echoed in your mind, recounting stories of Lord Cregan Stark and how he had become the embodiment of his house’s strength. At just seventeen, he had fought for power against his uncle, rallying the North to his cause and earning the legendary title of the Wolf of the North.

Now, at twenty-five, he was widely renowned as the most powerful man in the region, with whispers even calling him the King in the North. His influence stretched far, untethered by the intricacies of southern politics. In the refuge of your measured breathing, you hoped to draw some comfort from the formidable reputation of the man who would soon become your husband. Could a man so brilliant at war be kind?

The carriage came to a rest, jolting you back to the present, you looked at your father, who attempted to give you a reassuring nod as the door of the carriage swung open. He moved through it first, giving you a precious few moments to prepare yourself before he turned and extended his hand inside the carriage to help you out and down.

The cold hit you first, making you draw a sharp breath, the icy air burning your lungs. For a brief moment, you looked around and watched as snowflakes danced in the chilled air, touching gently on Winterfell's ancient stone façade. You stepped out, the snow crunching beneath your feet, you were thankful for your father's firm grasp on your hand, worried for a moment that without it, you would slip.

The northern air was sharp and invigorating, a biting chill that seemed to permeate the very fabric of everything it touched. It was the kind of cold that, if endured for too long, would nestle deep into your bones, leaving a lingering reminder of the North’s untamed power. Pulling your thick cloak more tightly around yourself, you sought its warmth and comfort, a shield against the relentless chill.

Your father stepped forward with the practiced grace of his station, turning to address the Northerners who had assembled to witness your arrival.

"Greetings House Stark, I am Lord Borros Baratheon, of the House Baratheon, Lord of Storm's End. I have come to present to you, my daughter." His voice was, steady and confident. It carried over the soft whisper of the wind, acknowledging the strength of the Northern families and the significance of the union that would soon bind Baratheon and Stark.

He turned to you and gestured for you to step forwards, and you did, curtseying to the group. Your eyes swept over the crowd of Northerners—a sea of rugged faces hardened by the winter landscape. And there he stood, amidst them, undeniably Cregan Stark. His towering form was enveloped in commanding furs, every inch the lord who embodied the unforgiving north. He looked younger than you thought he would, hearing stories of how the north aged you beyond your years made you worried about what you would be confronted with up getting here.

Cregan stepped forward with an elegant grace, offering a formal bow. Yet, the warmth in his eyes spoke an unspoken promise of understanding and curiosity.

"Welcome to Winterfell," his voice resonated, deep and steady, his accent thick.

Your father and Cregan began discussing the plans for the coming days, their voices a steady hum amidst the towering stone walls of Winterfell. You followed closely behind them, the chill of the Northern air slowly giving way to the warmth of the hall, its fires crackling and casting flickering shadows that danced across the ancient stone.

Eventually, you found your place on a chair, one of many surrounding a small table strewn with maps and parchments that detailed the intricacies of alliances and strategies. The gathering of lords settled into their respective seats, enveloping the table in a sense of purpose and gravitas. Your father leaned forward, engaged in discussions about the expectations of this union, emphasising duty and honour—the very fabric of noble life.

As they spoke, a few lords occasionally cast friendly glances in your direction, but you could sense the unspoken rules that governed the conversation. This was not the sort of assembly where women were expected to voice their thoughts; instead, you listened intently, absorbing the dialogue around you. It was both fascinating and daunting, a whirlwind of responsibilities that felt far removed from the warmth of family gatherings you had known.

You were taken aback that they allowed you to sit at the table at all, a privilege that your father would never have granted you in the South. Perhaps the customs were different in the North, a notion that intrigued and unsettled you. As your gaze wandered around the assembly, it landed on one woman at the table—until that moment, you hadn't realised she was among them.

Dressed in masculine attire, she seemed to blend right in with the lords surrounding her, sitting tall and confident as they addressed her with the same respect reserved for their male counterparts. It was a striking sight, one that momentarily pulled you from your anxious thoughts about the future.

Then, the unexpected happened; she caught your eye and offered a warm smile that brightened her otherwise stern countenance. Heat rose to your cheeks as you realised you had been staring. Quickly, you turned your attention back to Cregan, the man you were to marry, feeling the weight of the room around you as you grappled with the complexities of your new reality.

Cregan Stark was a striking figure to behold, towering head and shoulders above your father, making it instantly clear why others held him in such high esteem. His presence conveyed more than mere physical stature; as soon as he began to speak, his demeanour and the way he carried himself revealed the essence of a man of honour. Unlike the tall men of the South, who seemed like a gust of wind might send them hurtling over the battlements into the sea, Cregan's stature was built broad and firm.

The cloak draped over his shoulders only added to his impressive build, yet you could tell at a glance that this was a physique forged through hard work and rigorous training, not by indulgence in luxuries. Every movement hinted at discipline and strength, an embodiment of the Northern spirit you had heard so much about.

Your eyes focused intently on his face as he spoke, captivated by the way his shoulder-length brown hair framed his features, catching the light to highlight the rugged lines that undeniably spoke of his Northern lineage. Cregan had a strong jaw, lending a chiseled quality to his visage that perfectly complemented the air of unyielding determination he exuded.

But it was his piercing blue eyes that truly drew you in—striking and deep, they seemed to hold an entire world within them. In contrast to the often stark demeanour he carried, those eyes contained an unexpected warmth, like a flickering flame against the cold backdrop of winter. There was a kindness in their depths, a silent promise that perhaps beneath the fierce exterior lay a man capable of tenderness and understanding. With every glance, you felt the pull of his gaze, an invitation to see beyond the bravado and discover the complexities that made him who he was.

He turned and met your eye, and it took you a second to realise that he had asked you a question, you looked around the room at the lords. All poised to listen to your response. You looked to your father for guidance.

"You'll have to excuse my daughter, the journey north has been long. However, I do think that she has enough strength left to accept your suggestion of a tour of Winterfell." he smiled at Lord Stark, who looked from you to your father, an understanding smile playing on his lips as he worked out you hadn't been paying attention.

He didn’t say anything, didn’t expose your lapse in concentration, just stood and shook your father's hand. You stood too as all the other lords stood and moved towards the door. You watched as they filtered out of the room, your father and Cregan being the only two aside from yourself still left in the room.

"Well, I would say that no chaperone is required, it is said that no one in the realms have as much honour as the Starks." your father said, resting his hand on the hilt of his sword as he looked between the two of you.

He nodded and gave you a small smile and turned to leave the room, the guards at the door opening and closing the door. You felt the resounding boom of the door closing in your chest as it seemed to echo around the entire room. The room seemed smaller as you looked from the door to Lord Stark, he looked so much more intimidating now it was only you in the room.

"My Lady, what part of Winterfell would you like to see first?" he asked stepping towards you.

"I- I don’t know." you whispered, finding it too difficult to look him in the eye.

"May I?" he asked, gesturing to your cloak which you had removed and placed on the back of your chair.

You nodded, he carefully picked it up and placed it over your shoulders, you moved your hands to do up the buckle that would secure it to your body and turned to Lord Stark. The massive sword slung across his back caught your attention, its hilt visible above his shoulder—a symbol of the strength and legends whispered in the halls of your childhood home. It seemed a natural extension of him—an embodiment of Cregan Stark, the warrior and the lord.

He smiled down at you, warmth and friendliness lighting up his features. With a gentle tilt of his eyebrow, he extended his elbow towards you, inviting you to take it.

"Well, I shall show you my favourite parts of the castle, and then we'll join your father and the other lords for a late tea," he said, his deep voice smooth and rich, like honey.

You nodded, not trusting yourself to speak, as you took his hand and allowed him to guide you out of the room. Agreeing to marry someone you had never met was undoubtedly a gamble, fraught with uncertainties. Yet, with this match, a sense of hopefulness stirred within you—a feeling as if you had struck gold in a world tarnished by rusted steel.

Your thoughts drifted back to the moment you first learned of your betrothal. That night, your mother had remained by your side, holding you close as you cried, part of you mourning your childhood and the other terrified of the future. She assured you that everything would be alright, words you initially dismissed as just the comforting words you say to someone when they're crying.

But now, with time and distance, you started to see that moment in a different light. There was a certainty in her voice that had been unwavering, and it made you wonder if she had played a part in your match with Lord Stark. Her confidence lingered in your mind, suggesting that perhaps this match carried more promise than you dared to imagine in those initial, tear-filled moments.

Winterfell was a beautiful castle, said to be one of the oldest still standing. As Cregan showed you around, you noticed something different in the way he spoke. Unlike most men, who seemed more interested in proving themselves smarter than you by belittling or over-explaining, Lord Stark had a unique approach.

His way of speaking about the castle and its history felt more like listening to a passionate teacher than a rehearsed lecture. He engaged you with stories, making each tale and detail come alive, and you couldn't help but feel a sense of respect and curiosity grow within you. It was refreshing and made you appreciate not only Winterfell, but also the man guiding you through its storied halls.

He had suggested that the two of you look out over the battlements before retiring to the great hall for something to eat. The climb up to the battlements was more challenging than you had anticipated. The stairs were far narrower than any you had navigated at Storm's End, making you marvel at how men clad in armour could swiftly manoeuvre them during times of war. Yet, as you reached the top, the sight that greeted you was nothing short of breathtaking—a vast, snowy landscape stretching as far as the eye could see. There was a vast expanse of forest in the distance, but even that was coated in snow.

Your home back in Storm's End prided itself on its massive walls for protection against invaders. However, here at Winterfell, the tall walls paired with its isolated, formidable position in the North presented a different kind of strength. The harsh, unforgiving landscape surrounding Winterfell seemed an ally to its defenders, an icy gauntlet capable of claiming the lives of unprepared southern soldiers long before they could even reach the walls. The beauty and latent power of the scene sent a shiver through you, a reminder of the resilience required to thrive in this raw and rugged part of the world.

"There is a small moat hidden by the snow at the bottom of the wall," Cregan began, his gaze shifting to you with a knowing glint in his eyes, as if he was sharing a secret of the North only a few were privy to. "If aren't aware of it and attempt to climb the wall, you sink into snow taller than a man."

You withdrew your hand from the warmth of your fur muff, moving to grasp the metal handle fixed to the wall, hoping to steady yourself for a better view over the battlements. The chill of the metal immediately shot through your fingers, contrasting sharply with the cozy warmth of the muff.

"Agh," you gasped, yanking your hand away from the frigid metal.

Before you could even check for injury, Cregan Stark's gloved hand enveloped yours with a surprising gentleness. He looked down at your hand, his thumb softly brushing across your palm, sending a tingle through your skin. "Careful, My Lady," he murmured, his voice carrying a deep, soothing timbre. "Warm hands stick to cold metal. You could lose some skin if you're not careful."

You grimaced at the thought and glanced back at the metal, reassuring yourself that none of your skin lingered there. "It burns,” you whispered, eyes dropping to the red mark on your palm.

Cregan's gaze met yours, holding a mix of concern and something unspoken. He raised his hand to his mouth, biting the finger of his glove and pulling it off, his breath misting in the cold air. He placed his large, now bare hand over yours, its warmth seeping through your skin, soothing the sting of the cold. His touch seemed to linger longer than necessary, then he removed his hand from yours and pulled the glove from his mouth.

"Careful my Lady, the cold burns sometimes more than fire." He remarked, eyes locked on yours, before slipping his hand back into the glove with deliberate care. "We ought to get you some gloves." His voice carried both practicality and an undercurrent of tenderness that surprised you.

He offered his arm once more, and this time, as you looped your arm around his, the touch felt more intimate, more charged. You tucked your hand back into your fur muff, your hand still feeling the ghost of his.

A Link to My Complete Inventory

[mapis-putellas]

Okeyy how about a sad Alexia x reader fic where for all the years reader has known alexia, she’s planned her the best most special birthday ever. Each year she always tries to top it. But one year, reader’s bday comes around and she doesn’t expect much, but she atleast expects something. It doesn’t matter if it’s small or big, just something that says “I care”. Especially since she grew up in foster care. So for her, gifts aren’t what matters, quality time and love means everything.

But this year, it was the opposite, Alexia, completely swamped with football and media days and cover shoots that she becomes preoccupied with all things work. Completely forgetting reader’s bday. And reader is quiet shy when it comes to things Ike this so she doesn’t say anything, if you care about someone, they shouldn’t have to give you a reminder so u show u care, so reader doesn’t say anything and Alexia being the grandma she is (lol) doesn’t know much about the internet aside from posting football promo stuff. So she never goes on just because. So she never gets any last minute reminders either.

Bc of this, days pass and reader pulls away not really in the mood to pretend to be around someone that couldn’t even be bothered to remember her birthday after she goes all out for everyone every year. Not that she does it to gain something. And Alexia being so into work she doesn’t realize, till it gets to a point where Alexia and some other members of the team plans a huge party for another member of the team (they didn’t even invite reader), whose bday is only 1 week from reader’s. Then Mapi and Ingrid have to step in when they realize that everyone on the team + Alexia forgot reader’s birthday. So when they tries to make it up to her, reader forgives them reluctantly, but is completely closed off with Alexia. A of this just reminds them of foster care and being in spaces with people that treat her like shit when all she does is try to please them to keep/gain their love.

I feel like it would be important to separate the fact that reader would take longer to forgive Alexia since they have a deeper relationship and Alexia means more to her than anyone in her life. And Alexia not understanding that when she sees reader forgive the team but not her. (Doesn’t mean reader is gonna start laughing or going out with the team tho)

Alr you asked for angst…😭

Thank Youuu

~🦈💕

Your brain? *chefs kiss*

[daycourtofficial]

Take a look at my girlfriend

Pairing: Nesta x reader | WC: 4k | warnings: smut, drinking, oral (f!receiving and giving)

Summary: Based on this request - Nesta runs into Cassian post break-up, accidentally calling you her girlfriend, leading to a night of confusion and revelations

Author’s note: this is for @sjmromanceweek !!! Happy first kiss (and more!). Also I’m retconning Nesta being sober just for her to be hot and tipsy okay she deserves it

Rita’s was packed tonight - the entire city of Velaris was in the club it seemed, nonstop ordering drinks.

It was the first warm day in ages - warm enough for fae to bask in the sunlight during the day, but the nights were still cold enough to need a coat.

Or, it seemed, enough alcohol to keep you warm on the walk home.

Nesta was four drinks in, her cheeks dusted with a light pink from the heat and the alcohol. She moved through the crowd, back to the table the two of you occupied with Gwyn and Emerie, a drink in each hand.

She moved through the fae quite easily, her tall frame easily navigating the crowd. She slid back into the booth next to you, pressing a little closer to you then necessary.

If she was asked, she would say the crowd pushed her a bit harder than she expected. But really the alcohol in her system just made her hold back less when it came to you.

“Thank you, thank you!” You pressed your lips to Nesta’s cheek in thanks, taking your drink from her. “I was too ambitious with these shoes - I’d never make it that far.” You giggled, leaning into her side as she settled in next to you. You looked past Nesta, looking at the crowd of people drunkenly dancing, and Nesta was grateful your attention was away from her warm cheeks. 

Nesta turned to face Emerie and Gwyn, the two friends making kissing faces at Nesta when you weren’t looking. She rolled her eyes at her friend’s antics, the two of them desperate for Nesta to make a move on you.

“She likes you, Nesta.”

Nesta had pushed past Gwyn, trying to avoid having this conversation again. Gwyn shot out a hand, stopping Nesta.

“The sooner you admit it to yourself, the happier you’ll be.”

For weeks now, her two best friends had done little else except reenact the conversations between you and Nesta, with overzealous touches and giggles galore.

Nesta missed not having friends.

She looked away, avoiding their antics, when a large body in the crowd caught her eye. 

Cassian.

His red siphons glowed faintly, one on each wrist glowing in the low light of Rita’s. Nesta ducked her head, hopeful to avoid the encounter, but it was too late. You prodded her side with your elbow, pointing her to Cassian’s wave across the bar.

“Go say hi.”

You nudged her out of the seat, and before she could comprehend, she was walking across the floor of Rita’s, her shoes sticking slightly to the floor with each step before stopping in front of Cassian.

He looked genuinely happy to see her, but Nesta knew that was just the kind of male Cassian was.

Cassian looked behind Nesta, seeing you at the booth talking to Emerie and Gwyn. He smiled, glad that Nesta hadn’t used the breakup as an excuse to hide away from her friends.

The breakup had been mostly amicable. A series of hookups had led to them dating for almost a year before realizing they weren’t that well-suited once they tried to live together. 

Nesta hadn’t minded him when they saw each other a few times a week, but their lifestyles were too incompatible for cohabitation. Nesta preferred quiet mornings so she could ride her Peloton, whereas Cassian woke up ready to chirp about anything and everything. Nesta preferred nightly baths to unwind from her workday, whereas Cassian preferred time together to unwind. Reason after reason piled up, causing resentment to build until eventually they just couldn’t make it work. 

She had been sad - she knew it was coming, but it didn’t hurt any less. She hadn’t seen him around much these past few months, having heard from Emerie that he was seeing someone new.

That tidbit hadn’t made her upset, but standing before him, the need to feel some kind of win over him took control of her mind, the stress of the last few weeks culminating in the biggest lie of Nesta’s life. 

“She’s my girlfriend.”

The words came tumbling out of Nesta’s mouth before her brain could register them. The alcohol flowing through her caused her to not even realize she hadn’t actually said hi to him.

Cassian’s eyebrows raised, nodding softly. “Uh, okay. Yeah, I can see that.” Nesta’s brain was short-circuiting at his words, unable to take in Cassian’s nonchalance at her lie.

“I didn’t even tell you who I was talking about.”

If Cassian noticed the edge to Nesta’s voice, he didn’t let on.  

“I always figured she had a crush on you. You two make sense.”

Nesta balked, “me?” This was a very convincing lie, she was sure of it. She quickly straightened her spine, adopting an air of confidence. “It’s just - new. She never told me she’s had a thing for me for that long.”

Her eyes met yours across the bar, your enthusiastic wave at her sending butterflies through her stomach.

“‘Course she did. I went drinking with her one night and she told me how lucky I was because you were..” He scratched his head as he trailed off, looking for the exact words you had used. “A sexy bitch who could step on her’ or something like that.”

Cassian took a sip from his drink, “glad to see you’re doing well.” He reached his arm out, wrapping his hand around Nesta’s bicep. “Especially glad to see you still work out! You look great, Nes.”

Cassian’s smile never faltered as he walked away, and Nesta could make out the top of Rhys’s head from the direction Cassian was headed. 

He seemed chipper. And sober.

Meaning he’d likely be here for the rest of the night.

Nesta slunk back to the booth as you moved to make room for her, but she reached out a hand and grabbed your wrist. 

“Can we talk somewhere private?”

Emerie and Gwyn sipped their drinks quietly, giggling to each other. When Nesta looked at the pair, they made kissy faces at her as you maneuvered out of the booth, ignoring the middle finger Nesta sent to them behind your back. 

“Is everything okay?”

The look of concern etched on your face made Nesta want to kiss the space between your brows. Your voice hushed as you asked, “did Cassian say something?”

“No, no, nothing like that. I- um.. I told him something.” You stared at her, your balance wobbly as she looked at you.

Shit. Nesta felt immediately bad about this idea. You were already drunk, having pregamed with a few shots of tequila with one of your friends before meeting up for girl’s night. Nesta looked down at her feet, ashamed of her silly lie.

“I told him we were dating. It just kinda slipped out, but I think he’s staying here so would you- could be my girlfriend for the night?”

Your mouth parted in an ‘o’ shape, and Nesta could tell your brain was trying very hard to figure out what she was saying.

“We’re dating tonight?” You laughed, and Nesta’s heart sank at the sound. “I had no idea, this is great!” 

“Really?” Nesta asked, not trying to mask the hopeful tone of her voice.

“Yeah!”

Before Nesta could do anything, you grabbed the back of her neck, pulling her down to your mouth. Nesta melted into the kiss, the way you pressed against her, blocking out the whoops and hollers from her friends.

Your hands settled on her hips as she held onto your neck, your tongue swiping into her mouth in a way that had heat pooling in her core. 

The places that tongue could go.

The kiss was all consuming, every hesitation Nesta had ever felt around you fell off like clothes at the end of the day. Another thing she wanted to see come true - you in her apartment, clothes slowly falling off. She didn’t really care what happened or where so long as you kept your mouth on hers.

A cough disrupted the two of you, but you didn’t jolt from Nesta’s arms. You pulled your lips away, Nesta’s own lips following after you. She was certain she’d hear about that from Gwyn and Emerie later.

Your head tucked itself into Nesta’s neck, giving off a bashful look to whoever disrupted you. As Nesta offered a withering stare to whoever interrupted, she only found a bored male watching the two of you. You grew bored very quickly and began nipping at her neck, your teeth unsatisfied with how pale her skin was. 

“You’re in the way.” Nesta’s stare deflated, her arm circling your waist to move you as the fae sidestepped the pair of you. She pulled you with her, back to the booth her friends were in, their faces were smug as they watched the two of you the rest of the night. Drink after drink, you didn’t let Nesta go, always touching some part of her. Every so often your hands would travel up her thighs, first just sitting there, until they began wandering further and further up.

Nesta’s breaking point had been when your hand dipped below the fabric of her dress, getting close to her underwear. She had to have some semblance of self control, otherwise she would let your fingers glide inside of her right here in front of everyone.

“We should get out of here, go to sleep.” Nesta stood quickly, nearly knocking the table of drinks over. She said a quick goodbye to your friends as she ushered you to the door.

“I wanna stay here and make out with my girlfriend.” Your shouts over the music gave Nesta pause before she grabbed your wrist, pulling you through the bar until the cold night air hit you both. She hadn’t realized how stifling the club was until now, the cool air a much needed balm to her skin.

You continued your clinginess, hands and arms desperate to touch every inch of Nesta as she tried to walk the two of you down the block that separated Rita’s and her apartment. It was every late night fantasy come true, but filled with an extra layer of annoyance.

“Stop it.” Her tone was harsher than she was going for, an admonishment while trying to get her keys into her door lock. She felt proud as the door swung open, safely getting the two of you back to her apartment. 

All pride deflated once she turned and saw the look on your face. Your face resembled that of a kicked puppy - wobbly lip, big, sad eyes. You were half turned away from her before she ran a hand down your arm, leading you inside.

“What’s wrong?” She shut the door behind you, guiding you to her couch before sitting down next to her.

“Do you not like me?”

It felt like a punch to Nesta’s stomach. Before she could explain, you were blabbering again, the words falling from your tongue too fast to stop.

“Because I thought- I thought you did and Gwyn was helping me. She got you that romance book with the females to see how you felt about it.”

Nesta wasn’t entirely certain what to make of Gwyn’s recommendation at the time, assuming it was her form of teasing Nesta for her little crush on you and how the cover had two women who resembled you and Nesta. She didn’t want to hear Gwyn gloat about how quickly Nesta read the story, or how it gave her new things to think about when she was alone at night. 

And how she’d reread certain scenes over and over again, imagining the two of you in place of the main characters.

“I do like you.” The words were hard for Nesta to get out - you had been looking up at her the same way you had looked at the paintings at the art gallery you two went to a few weeks ago and Nesta couldn’t take it. “A lot.”

Your squeal caused her to pull back from you, the sound a surprise to her ears. The space she had created between you two was enough for you to move your hands around Nesta’s hips, pulling her toward you before placing sloppy kisses on her neck. Nesta short-circuited at the feeling of your lips on her collarbones and she quickly grabbed your face as she felt your mouth moving lower over her sternum.

“Sweetheart, you’re drunk.”

“But you like me and you told Cassian you’re my hot girlfriend.”

Nesta’s knees buckled at how unwavering your voice was.

Hot girlfriend.

“Now’s not the time, pet.” Your hands wandered her body, leaving goosebumps as your eyes and hands focused on her breasts. Your fingers lightly pinched her nipples, causing Nesta to gasp lightly.

“I can be your little pet, just tell me how to please you, Nes.”

Your words were accented with you pushing your face directly into Nesta’s chest, kissing all of the exposed skin you could find. Her fingers threaded your hair momentarily before pulling your head back.

If Nesta had known how horny you got when you drank, she would have taken you out for drinks much sooner than she did.

“Sweetheart, let’s go to bed.”

Your eyes lit up at her words and she practically choked on the sweet aroma of your arousal.

“Not like that - let’s just cuddle for tonight, okay?”

You nodded enthusiastically, and before Nesta could blink you had your dress slid off, the fabric now lying in a pool on the floor. You had bent over to undo the clasps on your heels, nearly falling over before Nesta set you on the bed, kneeling down to take off your heels for you.

She made the mistake of looking up, seeing you in nothing but your underwear, the scent of your arousal finding her nose once more.

Mothers tits, were you making this difficult on her.

She got your shoes off before standing up, and you watched with wide eyes as she pulled her top off before undoing the ties on her pants, pulling them down over her muscular thighs. 

You were practically drooling at her toned body, and as Nesta turned to find a nightgown, you grabbed her hand, quickly pulling her to you. She looked surprised as you wrapped your arms around her, slowly trying to wrap your legs around her too.

“No, Nes. Why cover up such a beautiful body?” Your words were hard to discern as you had gotten preoccupied with her breasts halfway through, but Nesta could fill in the gaps where your words were muffled.

“Because I can’t go about naked.”

“Why not? Who would complain?”

Your tongue began swirling her nipple through her bra, the lace fabric doing very little to protect her from you. She gasped as you nibbled and sucked on her nipple, hands rubbing her breasts, a deep desire for more.

“I would, because all of this is just for you, pet.”

She wanted to laugh as you squealed at her flirting before pulling her down on the bed, flipping the two of you so you were on top.

“So I am your little pet!”

Your squeals of delight were amusing to Nesta, until you settled your hips on her stomach and she could feel just how wet you were.

For her.

She swallowed hard as you kept kissing her neck, the alcohol still moving through Nesta’s system to leave her just lucid enough to know she had to stop this.

“I have something very important for you to do.”

You pulled your hands back, sitting up to look at Nesta, her hair splayed out on the pillows like a crown.

“Anything for you, Nes.”

Nesta’s brows shot up, her drunken mind filing that away for later.

“I want you to lay right here and go to sleep.”

She watched as your brain stopped working.

“But I wanna please you.”

With your words, you rubbed against her, the scent of your arousal making her head spin. Her fingers twitched, wanting nothing more than to push past your panties and feel just how truly wet you were.

“And I want you to lay right on top of this bed and go to sleep.”

You leaned forward with a sigh, your head fitting into the crook of Nesta’s neck. Nesta could feel the vibrations from your groaning. 

But you listened to her. You didn’t say anything, your breaths deepening until Nesta was certain you were asleep.

Nesta laid awake that night, your body weight both a sense of comfort and a source of extreme anxiety. You were half naked on top of her, for cauldron’s sake. You slept soundly through the night, tiny snores eventually lulling Nesta into a peaceful sleep.

-

You woke up the next morning, pulling the comforter higher over your head as the sunlight peaked in through your windows. You groaned, nuzzling deeper into your pillow, stopping when you realized it was someone’s chest you were snuggling into.

You opened your eyes, a big, beautiful breast covered by the delicate lace of a purple bra filling your eyeline. Before looking up at whoever’s bed you had stumbled into, you took stock of your position. 

Underwear on, your leg was propped up on their hip, arms around their torso.

You definitely had been sleep cuddling.

You slowly turn your head, finding Nesta sleeping peacefully underneath you. 

“Good morning, pet.”

Well, you thought she had been sleeping. The previous night was hazy, the taste of alcohol filling your mouth at her words. Things were confusing, having a dream like haze to them.

“Morning Nesta.”

You laid frozen on top of her, wanting the shame of the previous night to keep you weighed down. What was a dream and what was reality? Had you spent the evening making out with Nesta? Did you take a shot off her breasts? 

You groaned, holding your head in your hands. Realization hit you, your head whipping too fast, a wave of nausea hitting.

“You called me pet.”

“You said you’d just love to be my little pet, doing whatever I wanted of you.” Her words were slow and mocking, drowned out by your groans.

“I don’t know what I was saying, obviously.”

Her hand crept up your side, fingers slowly gliding over your waist. The motion made you shiver, and Nesta laughed at it.

“So you were lying when you said you wanted to be my girlfriend, wanted me naked?”

Nesta’s hands kept exploring, now cupping your breasts. 

“No.”

She slowly crawled on top of you, her hips settling on top of yours.

“So what is it? Do you want me? Or no?”

You nodded. “Yes, I want you.”

That’s all it took for Nesta to flip the two of you as her lips met yours, her hips grinding down onto your stomach. It was slower than the kisses from last night - more tender, more deliberate.

The smell of her was everywhere - in the sheets, the room, off of her. You wanted to die in this moment, certain it couldn’t get better.

Until Nesta’s fingers snapped the band of your underwear, the zing on your skin slightly painful.

“Do I have to ply you with alcohol to get you naked again? Or are you going to take your underwear off?” You moaned at her words, enjoying this more dominant side to her. You quickly shimmied off your underwear and bra, throwing them off to the side. Nesta pulled back, her eyes wandering the slopes and planes of your body in appreciation. 

Nesta’s fingers began closing in on your breasts, pinching and teasing that made your back arch.

“Beautiful creature.”

Something took over you, some drunken braziness left behind. You held onto Nesta, flipping the two of you over so you were straddling her now. You shimmied down her body, your head resting on one of her thighs. Your fingers trailed up her thighs, lazily drawing patterns on her panty line.

“Nes, it’s not fair how pretty you are when you first wake up. Or how good you smell.” You nosed at her covered cunt, lightly sticking your tongue out. One of her legs hooked around your head, keeping you in place. Your tongue brushed over the fabric, a soft moan coming from above you.

Your mouth hovered directly over her cunt, the fabric the only thing separating you.

“Can I have a taste? It’s only fair. You denied me last night.”

“That’s because you were drunk.”

“So were you.” Your words were mumbled and Nesta felt the vibrations straight to her core. She needed you to just slide the fabric over an inch.

Her hips began grinding on your face in anticipation.

“Yes, but you’re quite a horny drunk.”

You pressed your nose into her, slowly gliding up and down, enjoying her reactions.

“No, I have less inhibitions when I’m drunk. I’m just more honest.”

 Nesta hummed, only half listening as your nose continued its movements, hitting just the right spot.

“The last time we went to Rita’s and you couldn’t make it, Emerie and Gwyn got me drunk so they could question me about you.”

Trying to string together a thought was difficult as your fingers played with her waistband. She had you exactly where she wanted, where she thought about you being for months. 

“That was ages ago.”

“And?”

“You never said anything.”

It was quiet as you laid still, your position so tantalizing to Nesta.

“Please. Touch me. Please.” It was all the confirmation you needed before sliding her underwear over and diving your tongue through her wet folds. Nesta fisted the sheets, the pleasure coursing through her body immeasurable. Time seemed to stop as you continued exploring, changing speed, your tongue’s direction, anything to keep her on edge. She tasted divine, nearly getting lost in your head at some deep need to pleasure her.

“Can I touch you?” Nesta’s question was quiet, a shyness you hadn’t expected from her.

You removed your head from her, your tongue slowly crept up her stomach, pressing kisses all over her.

“Of course.” You flipped your body around, legs now straddling Nesta’s face, your face right back at her core. You dropped your hips onto her face, laughing as she bucked her hips up into your mouth at the action.

“Do you like that?” You did it once more, slowly grinding your hips across her face. Your fingers moved through her folds, your head held up just enough to talk. “Or would you prefer to explore on your own?”

Nesta’s hands wrapped around your thighs, bringing you down to her. Her tongue glided across you, nearly making your own movements stop. She was hesitant at first, testing the waters.

Then she dove in, her tongue moving so quickly and expertly you nearly forgot where you were.

She was a fast and eager learner. 

“It tastes better than I imagined.”  

Nesta’s words were almost your undoing, her words just as delightful as her tongue. All you could do was reciprocate, trying to match every movement of her tongue with your own. She moaned into your core, heat pooling in your gut. 

“Come on, Nesta. Cum for me. Want to taste it.”

You pushed your hips down, nearly suffocating her, the action pushing Nesta over that precipice. 

She continued working on you, her fingers circling your clit sending you spiraling over the edge. You collapsed on her, knees giving out to bliss as you tried to catch your breath.

The two of you laid there, motionless, breathing deeply. Eventually you peeled yourself off of her, slowly crawling back up to her. Your arms wrapped around her, delighting in what this means for the two of you. You began stroking her hair, lightly shushing her as she came down from her high. 

“Wow.”

You chuckled, kissing her forehead. Breathing and thinking were laborious, but it felt so easy to lay in Nesta’s arms.

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[xechu]

a/n: A bit of a long post, but I thought I'd share some character notes I have of Sukuna from my au 'Cross My Heart'. I don't foresee myself writing anything that is related to Sukuna's past before him meeting reader, which is why I thought it would be nice to release some notes just to give him some more depth. This will have some little fun facts about Jin as well since they're twins. As you might be able to tell, I'm a bit invested in this au right now. But I am trying to work on my other fics, so you might not see anything else come out for CMH this upcoming week. x

tw: 18+ mdni, suggestive themes, mature themes, complicated family dynamics, death

cmh!sukuna - growing up & teen years

Their mother has always been out of the picture so it was just Wasuke, Jin, and Sukuna. Wasuke never mentioned much about their mother, it always seemed to be a sore topic. All they know is she's no longer alive.

Sukuna had always been kind of troubled as a kid and well into his teens. Finance has been tight growing up, so Jin and Sukuna had to work odd jobs since they were 13 until they were of legal working age, which then they would be on an actual payroll working minimum wage jobs.

Uraume knew both Jin and Sukuna since elementary school, but they have always been a little closer with Sukuna. They didn't attend the same high school as they attended another school in a different district, but they were still in contact with Sukuna.

In high school, Jin was the nerd, and Sukuna was just an edgelord that all the girls found very mysterious and alluring. Sukuna's height skyrocketed during this time as well, so he just naturally stood out. He was popular not because he aspired or tried to be - it just happened.

Given his physique, some teachers would also try to recruit him into sport teams, but Sukuna said no, because he had to work part-time after school.

Jin and Sukuna never talked to each other much. Even though they were in the same high school. People didn't even realize they were related because of how different they looked, until graduation when some students saw them taking pictures together with Wasuke.

Sukuna looks a lot like Wasuke, and Jin looks a lot like their mother.

There was a bit of resentment between the two brothers growing up, because Sukuna thought Jin was spineless, whereas Jin thought Sukuna was selfish.

To be honest, both Sukuna and Jin had a difficult time expressing their thoughts and feelings because Wasuke was pretty harsh on the boys growing up, but he also had a lot on his plate as a single father. Given Wasuke's curt nature, he didn't really know how to nurture children and did only what he thought was right.

Sukuna was easily agitated and explosive, versus Jin who bottled everything up and could be a bit reclused when things got too overwhelming.

Kaori and Jin were high school sweethearts. They met in the debate club during Jin's sophomore year. Kaori is one year older than Jin. Jin was not the argumentative type, but he decided to step out of his comfort zone, and try something new. Seeing how Jin is now, it's hard to believe he was incredibly shy in high school. Kaori had a lot to do with him being more expressive with his feelings and really getting him out of his shell.

cmh!sukuna - college days

Left home shortly after high school graduation. He got into a huge fight with Wasuke, because Sukuna wanted to go into trades instead of university. Jin was accepted into a prestigious ivy league university on full scholarship.

Wasuke had found Sukuna's acceptance letter to the same university in the bin, after Sukuna lied and said he didn't get accepted. Wasuke went into an explosive fit - he couldn't understand why his son was settling for 'less' and told him with that mentality he will amount to nothing.

Though Sukuna left home at 18 and seemingly hated his brother, he never changed his telephone number just in case one day Jin needed him.

College was when Sukuna really began to let loose and felt the full experience of freedom.

Lost his virginity to some random TA in his college, he couldn't even remember her name or face, until she approached him one day out of the blue and thought she was pregnant. They went to a health clinic and it turned out to be a false alarm. The TA wanted to continue the relationship on the down-low, but Sukuna dropped it.

Sukuna met Yorozu during his first year of college. Her band was prepping for a college event - they did a cover of ‘Smile Like You Mean It’ by The Killers, which initially piqued Sukuna’s interest

Yorozu and Sukuna hit it off quite well, it had a lot to do with their approach to life, and to be honest they were both kind of troubled at the time.

Toji and Shiu came into the picture shortly after, they met Yorozu during an elective course they all shared, and somehow the four of them all came together as a group even though they were from vastly different fields of studies. Toji and Shiu have known each other for a long time.

Yorozu's area of study - music (4 year), Shiu's area of study - international business (4 year), Toji's area of study - exercise science (3 year), Sukuna's area of study - automotive technician (apprenticeship program, 2 years)

cmh!sukuna - 20's, up to when he went to jail

When Sukuna was 21, he received a phone call from Jin. Wasuke passed away very abruptly. He came home from work one night and said that he had a headache, went to bed early and never woke up.

After going through Wasuke's stuff, they accidentally broke one of Wasuke's picture frames. The framed photo was from their high school graduation. Sukuna never saw the photo before, but Wasuke wore a big smile, one that Sukuna had never seen growing up. And when he looked closely, he could see that his father's gaze was actually on him in that photo.

On the back of the photo, Wasuke wrote a note to his late wife. "They grew up well. I tried my best though it would have been better if you were around, but they still managed to pave a path for themselves despite my shortcomings as their father. Jin is very much like you, while Ryomen reminds me much of myself. They are truly both our children. I am proud of them. I miss you, but the three of us are doing fine."

That revelation with the photo really fucked Sukuna up. That's when he also patched things up with Jin.

Jin graduated at 22 from an ivy league business school, and had this ambition of becoming an entrepreneur. At this point, Sukuna had already been working as a full-time mechanic for two years. Jin approached Sukuna with the idea and that's when they kickstarted their garage business.

The first year was quite difficult, but then afterwards it started picking up, eventually by their fifth year, business was booming. Jin was able to get married to Kaori, and bought a house to start their family. Sukuna bought two condos, and continued living his life of work hard, play hard, and just enjoying a commitment-free life.

Patching up his relationship with Jin and starting a business really saved Sukuna's life - and that's why he has so much respect for Jin and the business. It definitely curbed down his edginess and he felt less troubled, but he's far from a saint and knows there's still a lot he needs to work on.

A few months later, the altercation with the bad business deal happened and Sukuna went to jail for two and a half years.

Toji, Shiu, and Yorozu would occasionally visit him in jail

Jin and Kaori would visit Sukuna too, but Sukuna was the one to tell Jin and Kaori not to visit when they found out she was pregnant. "Don't worry about me, take care of the kid. I don't want a pregnant woman coming in and out of jail like that. I'll see you both and the kid when I'm out."

Writing © xechu - please do not redistribute, translate, or repost any of my works.

[sutherlins]

↳ FAIREST CREATURES by @falllpoutboy [WIP - 19K | Rated E]

Lord Carmen of House Berzatto, returns from his travels back to his ancestral home of Ursiday after the tragic death of his eldest brother Lord Michael. Now the Lord of Ursiday, he is pressured by his uncle and liege Lord James “Jimmy” Kalinowski to clean up the utter mess Michael left Ursiday and to marry and have children so the Berzatto name lives on…

sutherlins fic appreciation week (please show the fics love, kudos, and comments on ao3!)

I love this fic so much. You don't HAVE to be a fan of GOT/HOTD to love this, I actually think it would still be so enjoyable to read even if you know nothing of that world but if you are a fan of both GOT/The Bear?? This fic will burrow into your brain and live there forever because that's what has happened to me. It's so in keeping with that world yet the characters we love aren't lost in the slightest and they are true to who we know them to be, all while making sense in the type of environment they are in within this AU. It's absolute brilliance at work. It's filled with nods to canon and is one of the most immersive fics I've ever read.

Please go read it if you haven't already, and show some love over on ao3! (ps. I'm doing 7 this month and intend to make this a monthly thing!)

[randomfoggytiger]

The X-Files: A Day-in-the-Life On-Set

An extract from this (very long) 1995 Chris Carter post.

CRUSHING TIMELINES AND ULTIMATE FREEDOM

…The Los Angeles office, housed in its own bungalow, is nicely appointed but relatively spare. 

The [Los Angeles] office itself is bustling this particularly morning, as writers move in and out--- occasionally invading the space of researcher/officer manager Mary Astadourian, where various drawers full of research material are kept. In there, the scribes will find literature on the paranormal, diseases, viruses, and various monsters, with folders that carry labels like “Roswell” or “Loch Ness.” 

…Part of the morning is devoted to the regularly scheduled writers’ meeting, with the entire staff… assembling to go over that week’s script, blocking out the teaser and all four acts….

The other writers question each nuance, throwing out suggestions to refine the story and make sure it’s clear…. Despite the need for exposition, Carter also stresses not letting the pace drag, wanting to spread action within the hour (or more precisely, 44 minutes or so minus commercials) allotted them. “Make sure you keep it hoppin’,” he says. 

…Eventually, it’s suggested they shift some action from the second act into the first in order to achieve the proper sense of pacing. The move requires some reconfiguration of other plot elements, but once those are blocked out the producer and other writers seem content. “That works for me,” says Carter, sending the show’s writer off to do another rewrite. 

Carter’s daily schedule, however, is just beginning. The writers’ session is followed by what’s known as a concept meeting-- a teleconference with the staff in Vancouver to grapple with various production issues before the begin filming a new episode…. 

Other issues involve the number of extras they can use….

Because money is always an issue, and time a luxury the crew usually doesn’t have, compromise and ingenuity remain key….

The producers also pride themselves on finding means of scavenging resources, then developing different ways to capitalize upon them. A prime case involves the crew getting access to a Canadian Navy destroyer that was then used in three different episodes, including “Dod Kalm”... and “End Game”.... “It’s fun,” Carter says, “to make something out of nothing.” 

Episodes must be plotted down to the most minute details-- in part because Carter is a perfectionist, and in part because the show is under a microscope now, with fans picking and nitpicking every conceivable aspect. Issues raised include what sort of garb Native Americans depicted should wear, with an emphasis on being as faithful as possible to tribal customs. (A Navajo group has complained because a character wore his hair down, something the elders in that tribe wouldn’t normally do, in the episode entitled “Anasazi.” Carter subsequently visited a Navajo reservation and attended one of their ceremonies.) 

From a more practical standpoint, the Vancouver team wants to know whether they can wardrobe the actors in blue jeans because some postproduction special effects shots use blue-screen, which essentially eliminates that color. 

The L.A. staffers are also assured that a shoot-out sequence will be top-notch, with bullet hits and ricochets plus a movie-style car explosion. Can it be done? “The answer’s yes… with disclaimers,” quips Beck good-naturedly adding, “One big disclaimer: How much money you got?” 

…The crew clearly takes enormous pride in the series, which presents them with such challenges on almost a daily basis and allows them to put their skills to the fullest possible use. Some freely admit, in fact, that they’ve been spoiled by their involvement with "The X-Files" and would have a hard time working elsewhere. “They’d have to drag me kicking and screaming off this show,” Gauthier says. 

The same goes for makeup special effects supervisor Toby Lindala…. Still, Lindala has proven up to most any task, with the Flukeman-- a costume his crew created in 10 days that had to weather water and other shooting ordeals-- still his proudest accomplishment. “That was probably the most insane undertaking for a time period,” says Lindala, who worked a 28-and 28-hour day during that stretch to get the suit ready in time. Even so, Lindala grew up watching monster movies and isn’t complaining, relishing the opportunities the show has provided to fool around with such projects. “I love making ‘em,” he says. 

Goodwin, a veteran producer who has worked on such series as "Life Goes On" and "Mancuso FBI", now tries to provide more lead time to prepare such major undertakings, but in most instances Lindala and his team (four people, including Lindala, work full time in that area) have just seven days’ notice to put a makeup effect together, and his services are needed in virtually every episode. 

…Careful planning remains the main hedge against both cost and time crunches, with Goodwin pointing out that in television time essentially translates directly into money. “The quicker you have to do it, the more it costs,” he says, adding that while some in the industry are tempted to cut corners, “My motto is, ‘Quality, whether they want it or not.’” 

…Kim Manners, also one of the show’s pool of directors, lauds Carter for treating each installment like a mini-movie. The process gives the individual directors-- who in episodic television, which is dominated by executive producers, are often viewed as transient guns for hire-- the opportunity to truly ply their trade. “He insists that you go out and be a filmmaker,” Manners says. “He doesn’t want you just go out and be a traffic cop.” Because of that freedom, he adds, the show is “the zenith of my career.” 

…Unlike most television shows that shoot on location, on "The X-Files" whoever scripted that particular episode goes to Vancouver to scout out locations and do other preparatory work. “To make sure,” as story editor Frank Spotnitz puts it, “everything is in sync with what the writer had in mind,” from casting to production design. In the cryptic vernacular of the show, the process stems from commitment to “purity control.” 

…For the episode in question, that means co-executive producer Howard Gordon, the only member of the writing staff other than creator Chris Carter who has been with the show virtually since the beginning, has made the sojourn to Vancouver. “As a writer, you don’t get that experience on any other show,” says Gordon. 

…Other matters have also arisen, some remarkable in their degree of minutia. Gordon’s script for the episode being prepared, for example, contains a seemingly innocuous reference to being “in the mood for some Quarter Pounders,” and Fox’s legal department wants them to clear the wording with McDonald’s…. “That’s a great line,” says an only slightly exasperated Manners…. Hours later, it’s decided to change to a more generic term rather than hassle the legal issue. 

…A later shot involves disposing of the [dead] cow, and Gordon-- a city kid from New York-- has actually researched the matter…. …But in light of McDonald’s headache, Carter has another suggestion. “How ‘bout if we just have a truck with golden arches on the side?” he jokes, spurring laughs from everyone in the room. 

…The attention to detail, again, proves remarkable, driven by Carter’s commitment to perfection. 

The entire process involved in shooting an episode of "The X-Files", from the first day of preparation to the last day of postproduction, usually takes six to eight weeks, with the seven days of preparation key to ensuring that the eight days of production that follow go smoothly-- though even the enormous effort that goes into planning can never account for every detail that can delay filming and raise blood pressure rates all around. In the middle of the season, as time grows shorter, there’s occasionally been as little as five weeks from prep to air. 

Just two days before shooting is to begin, Manners, Gordon, Carter, and co-executive producer R.W. Goodwin cram into a small audition room, where they’re scheduled to see more than 20 actors in just over an hour….

Manners, Gordon, and about 15 crew members, including special effects ace Dave Gauthier, production designer Graeme Murray, and others from various departments, later embark on a technical survey. They pile into an air-conditioned bus to scout out all the locations that will be involved in the upcoming shoot, usually a six-to-eight hour pilgrimage. “And this is the easy part,” laughs set decorator Shirley Inget. 

Carter follows the group to the door but has too much work at the office to come along. “I’m gonna miss this one, you guys,” he tells them, which is met with a collective “Aw” from the bus. 

…The bunch straggles back to the studio around 7:30 P.M., almost eight hours after their departure. On a near-by soundstage, meanwhile, Bowman is directing stars David Duchovny and Gillian Anderson, trying to keep the level of enthusiasm up with another long night of work to do. Shooting is frequently a tedious process, with long lapses between the action as shots are set up. The two stars carry out an emotional scene in front of an elevator that isn’t really an elevator, with a crew member behind the soundstage wall sliding a wooden door closed to approximate the effect. “I love it!” Bowman proclaims as the scene ends, watching the shot through a monitor and lauding his star as “One-take Duchovny.” 

Outside, Anderson’s baby, Piper… plays with various staff members as well as her father, assistant art director Clyde Klotz, who’s just returned from the technical survey. Piper shows off her mother’s piercing eyes and frolics later with Duchovny’s dog, Blue (his constant companion on the set), both seemingly fascinated with and a bit perplexed by the other. "The X-Files" is, indeed, a family affair, underscored when Goodwin brings his 10-year-old son and a friend into the production office the next morning, the latter collecting autographs from everyone on that week’s script. 

A short time later Duchovny and Anderson arrive, enjoying a few quiet moments while Piper plays nearby in a small red tub, watched carefully by her nanny. …Though he isn’t shooting that day, actor Mitch Pileggi (who seems to create quite a stir among the female office staff) also pops by to look over dailies, or raw footage, of a fight sequence featuring him shot earlier in the week.  

…Bowman has to deal with five actors (Anderson, Duchovny, and Gunmen Dean Haglund, Bruce Harwood, and Braidwood) in a relatively confined space, so the staging will be critical. After Bowman aligns them one way, Duchovny suggests an alternative in handling the shot, and various configurations are tried. As they begin rehearsing, everyone still seems a bit punchy, and the mood is light. Haglund keeps wanting to call a Nazi scientist “Kempler” instead of “Klemper”, and Duchovny has a hard time not laughing each time Braidwood (who comes up roughly to the actor’s chin) approaches him, with Frohike supposed to act relieved to see Mulder alive after the events that closed the second season. “Did you ever see the Star Trek where Spock thought that Kirk died?” Duchovny tells him with his trademark deadpan delivery. ‘That’s what you want to be doing.” 

Production ultimately won’t conclude until near 2 A.M. that morning…. 

[onesnoopyaday]

I AM AT MY LIMIT

Snoopy #90

30/12/2024

description under the cut

[description: a cartoon-style drawing of Snoopy's head. Snoopy is a white dog with black ears. His eyes are shut and his mouth is a horizontal line. There are two large blue teardrops, one under each eye. The text "I am at my limit" is handwritten across the top of the image.]

[radioactivepeasant]

Snippets: Free Day Friday

Well, not a snippet. A whole durn one-shot. No title yet, so let's just call it "Responsible Adults, or, Damas Wants A Raise"

(This mentions a hilarious headcanon that rose from a discussion of game weapons with @troblsomtwins829 and @segaphantom , one I intend to use from now on, where it was decided that red eco shockwave ammo is what Wastelanders give their kids when they're first learning trigger discipline, and Jak is the equivalent of a kid bringing down a grizzly bear with a plastic baseball bat. Also featuring swears borrowed from Watership Down because rabbit language is a lot of fun tbh)

It should have been a perfectly straightforward event. Fourteen candidates who had finally passed the initial terrain tests to Kleiver's satisfaction, finally able to go at it with weapons. Only Scatterguns for now, of course. Live ammunition would wait for those who passed their first trial. Those left standing would receive their gate pass and first amulet, everyone who had dodged the lava but not their comrades' shockwaves would be scraped off the sand and delivered to the on-site hospital. They would have to wait another month to retake their trial.

It was standard procedure.

They'd done it hundreds of times.

But this time, it was immediately apparent that something was amiss.

One man broke out of the pack before Damas could even explain what was expected of a first trial. He ran between the cover provided by the matter formers like his life depended on it, gun swinging uselessly on his back.

Well. That one probably wasn't going to last.

Damas sighed and checked the tiny screen that showed him the Arena from a closer view. Oh. That was the Krimzon Guard who had turned up at the temple, begging for clemency in the wake of Praxis's death.

Well if he survived this, his record was clean. But if he didn't-

Well that was one less Krimzon Guard in the world.

Behind him, down the stairs leading to the interior corridors of the Arena, Damas heard an alarm siren. He frowned. What could be so urgent as to sound an alarm back there? Was a patient coding?

The king twitched one ear back to listen for details while glancing periodically at the ring.

"All personnel, all personnel, be on the lookout: an unaccompanied minor is missing from Ward 2. Light hair, underweight, believed to be experiencing medical distress-"

Damas blinked. How on earth had a patient gotten out of the children's ward without someone noticing? Oh, Dr. Petros was going to spit fire when he found out.

"It's going to be one of those days," Damas grumbled, rubbing his forehead, "I can already tell."

He was correct.

A chorus of surprised voices began shouting in the stands, and Damas squinted down into the Arena. Amidst the chaos, the tattooed soldier formerly of Haven was still fleeing for his life. He occasionally fired behind him, but focused mainly on looking for a way out of the Arena. And now Damas could actually see his pursuer.

The figure was small -- tiny, compared to most of the candidates in both height and weight. It wove in and out of the combatants with an unusual speed and grace. But something was wrong.

"What the-"

Damas stood.

"Asa," he said into a handheld radio, "Don't activate the lava. Can you get eyes on the field and tell me if I'm actually seeing someone in hospital scrubs out there?"

"If what?!"

The man running the matter formers went silent as he peered out of his booth further down the wall.

"Bloody Frith! That guy doesn't even have a gun! They're not allowed to be unarmed for trials!"

"No, no they are not." Damas tightened his jaw. "But if he's unarmed-"

Then what's the Krimzon so afraid of?

The mystery candidate passed near the drone camera, and Damas almost dropped the screen entirely.

"Embleer Frith!" he swore, "It's that kid!"

It was the boy he'd found in the desert, barely alive, the one with a dead man's beacon in his hand. It had only been two days! Foundlings weren't permitted to take Arena trials until they had been declared medically sound for three consecutive days after their rescue!

Damas suddenly remembered the call from Petros, informing him that the young man was not, in fact, an adult from Haven. That he was in reality a young boy, covered with some deeply concerning scars. And the doctor had been very insistent about the foundling not being of age for combat trials.

The alarm from the hospital continued to blare, and Damas had a sinking feeling that the unaccompanied minor and the kid he'd hauled out of the desert were one and the same.

Who had allowed this?! The foundling definitely hadn't passed the terrain test yet -- he hadn't even reached the minimum age allowed to compete yet! He never should have gotten past Kleiver in the waiting hatch!

"Oh don't tell me," he breathed.

The Arena had been compromised. And that meant that the results of the fourteen candidates' initial combat trial were compromised. If Kleiver didn't have an incredible explanation for this, heads were going to roll.

Below, the boy had caught up to his quarry. Every single blast of the Scattergun, he dodged. Then the former guard shouted something; Damas couldn't make it out, but from the footage his lips seemed to be forming the word "free" or "freak".

Yells of both excitement and alarm filled the stands as the renegade patient just

Changed.

Purple sparks flickered over his body, like lightning. Every part of his body the sparks touched drained of all color. This was not the pallor of the dead, this was the white of bleached bone, and teeth. Black horns rose from ragged hair. Black claws were barely visible on each hand. At this distance, even his eyes looked black.

What. Was. That.

The KG screeched, firing without aiming. But the demonic boy launched too quickly to be tracked by the drone, taking the guard to ground. Damas knew without looking that the man was dying. He didn't even scream. There was only a pitiful gurgle as claws pierced his throat.

Damas turned the volume as far up on his screen as he could, just in time for the monstrous form to recede, to vanish as though it had been a mere hallucination. Spattered with blood, the boy from the desert stood up on shaking legs. Just barely, the drone caught his vicious hiss.

"Not so funny when you're the one with a mouth full of blood, huh, Tyber?"

He spat on the dying man.

And then his knees buckled.

Damas had seen enough.

"Stop the trial!" He commanded, waving guards towards the Arena. "The Arena is compromised! Get the candidates back to barracks, and send Kleiver to me, immediately."

He started to leave the booth, then turned back to the radio again.

"And find whoever was in charge of Ward 2 this week! And for the love of the Precursors get that kid out of my Arena!"

Oh, heads were going to roll.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

Jak could hear shouting long before the creaking wooden platform reached the top of the shaft. He'd already been tense when the two big Wastelanders pulled him off the cot someone had dropped him on. If one of them hadn't been carrying Daxter, it was very likely that Jak would have tried to kill them, too. Now he started tugging experimentally at his arms, checking their grip.

"Quit!" One of them scowled at him. "The king’s mad as it is, don't make it worse!"

"-Didn't drag that kid off death’s doorstep just for you two to send him right back!" A raspy voice was yelling, "So you tell me, Rezzik, how a patient -- who Petros already told me was a minor based on musculoskeletal scans -- got into the Arena -- unarmed -- during a combat trial!"

The voice that responded was the skinny guy Jak had shoved away from him when he first woke up.

"Sire, the boy just-"

"I didn't ask about the boy! Tell me what you did! You were in charge of the children's ward this week, not the boy! When I want to hear the boy's side of things, I'll ask him myself!"

The other guards holding Jak's arms sucked on his teeth nervously.

"Oh, he's pissed," he whispered. "I wouldn't want to be the nurse right now."

"Or Kleiver. They're in deep weeds," the other agreed.

The elevator locked into place and, for a moment, Jak forgot the shouting. They were inside. And there was water. Water. Inside. Vast pools of it like an indoor oasis. Trees lined the room, dropping the temperature by several degrees. And this had been built by hu'men hands! How?!

"Well there he is." The raspy voiced man -- oh, Jak had seen the guy with the staff on that balcony of that stadium -- made an impatient gesture in his direction.

"Back from the dead, are you? You've certainly caused a fuss, young one. Care to tell me exactly what you were doing unarmed in a combat trial?"

"A combat what?" Jak answered the question with a question.

The man with the staff steepled his fingers in front of his mouth. He inhaled sharply and wheeled to face the skinny medic.

"Rezzik!"

Rezzik put his hands up defensively. "He was unconscious, my lord! He wasn't expected to even be lucid until Se'enday!"

The king dropped his face into his palm.

"Oh my gods," he groaned, "He doesn't even know where he is, does he?"

"Uh, "he" is right here," Daxter snapped.

Every person but Jak jolted.

"It talks?!"

"Oh what the rot what the rot-"

"Oh that's so cursed-"

"Why does it talk?!"

Daxter whistled sharply.

"Yes yes, I'm a miracle of premodern medicine. Moving on! Who are you mooks, where are we, and what's all this about Jak and a combat trial?!"

Jak glowered at the ground.

"Saw Tyber. From the prison. He's dead now."

Daxter's ears drooped and his eyes widened. "Oh..."

He reached down to pat Jak's shoulder.

"The creep had it comin', Jak. You did good."

"Well. Considering you apparently weren't conscious until now, you can't be expected to have known," the man who was probably the king groused, "but entry into the Arena is restricted to those aged eighteen and older for a reason. So. What I need to know is who let you through that gate."

He pointed at the sullen man with the big mustache.

"Did he or did he not make any attempt to stop you?"

Frankly, Jak couldn't remember much about how he got onto that field.

"Wouldn't have mattered if he did or didn't," he muttered, "he couldn't have stopped me."

The king narrowed his eyes at him. Then he seemed to actually see him.

"Ah, what are we doing- Jin, Faro, let go of the kid! Get him some water for the gods sakes, he just passed out on the battlefield!"

Then he turned to look at the guy he'd called Kleiver.

His voice was much quieter now. And somehow that was more frightening.

"Kleiver, you know the procedure for new arrivals," he said softly. "Three days' recovery and approval from Maud or Petros before First Trial. So what made you let a boy in hospital clothes through that gate?"

The big man sneered. "Did you see the anklebiter?! He was out for blood! He ended up fine, di'n't he?"

"Fine?! Look at him!" The king gestured sharply in frustration. "He's wearing pajamas!"

"If he'd passed out two minutes sooner he could've died!" Rezzik gasped, appalled.

"Sire, this clearly wasn't the hospital's failure," he said, turning to the king. "This oaf put my patient in danger and-"

"Enough." Damas held up his hand, face hard.

"You are both to blame for what ultimately derailed the trials of fourteen candidates. Rezzik, I leave your penalty to be decided by your superiors. But Kleiver-"

He glared.

"Your only chance at retaining your position is if that boy had an extremely valid reason for hunting down that candidate."

Jak edged away from the guard offering him a canteen. "What counts as valid to you?" he asked pointedly.

The king paced to the edge of his dais, watching Jak with eyes a little too knowing. He folded one arm behind his back and studied him with none of the fire that had been directed at his own people.

"Newcomer, I will ask you only once, and you need only answer once. The man you killed: did he give you those scars?"

Jak went rigid.

They'd seen his scars.

They knew.

Nausea rocked him, crawling up his throat and tasting of shame.

"Boy?" The king pressed, "Did-"

"No." Jak practically spat the word out. "He kept me from escaping. He laughed. And now he's dead. Got a problem with that?"

The king scoffed slightly. He glanced back at Kleiver.

"You are fortunate today. I will retroactively approve an exception for the boy this once as a case of justified retribution. Do not let it happen again."

"Sire," Rezzik piped up again -- guy just didn't know when to keep his mouth shut -- "Arena exceptions must have signed affidavits from the guardian of the minor, mustn't they? As the attending physician, shall I-"

"Don't be a pot-stirrer, Rezzik," Damas said flatly.

Jak muffled a snort and exchanged amused glances with Daxter. At least he wasn't the one getting yelled at.

"No," Damas said, tense again and gritting his teeth, "Since apparently I am the only reasonable adult in this entire godsforsaken room today, I'll complete the affidavit."

He waved dismissively at the group.

"Do not compromise the trials of our candidates again. Negligence costs lives, and weakens our city, gentlemen."

Kleiver looked like he had a few choice words to say about that, but he dipped his head respectfully and marched away without a word. Jin and Faro cringed at each other, then made to grab Jak's shoulder.

"Come on, kid. You need to go back to the doc-"

Jak shoved Jin away and stumbled back.

"Don't touch me!"

Rezzik raised his hands placatingly, approaching as if the boy was a frightened baby animal.

"Hey, hey, it's alright, we only want to help you! I know you must be scared, but if you'll just let us get you back on the IV-"

Jak didn't hear anything else after that.

They were going to inject something into him.

They were going to strap him down and inject something into him-!

His breath shortened as he ducked Jin again. Faro was surprised enough by the elbow strike to his gut to loosen his grip on his gunstaff, and that was all Jak needed.

He ripped the weapon from the guard's hands and swung it in a wide arc, eyes wild.

"Get. Back."

Daxter snarled next to Jak’s ear. "Nobody touches my pal. Keep your filthy needles to yourself, or better yet, stick them up your-"

"Hey! Come on!" Faro complained, "That's custom, kid! You can't just jack a Wastelander's peacemaker, that's just not on!"

"You're not taking me back."

Jak swung the gunstaff again.

"I'm not going back there!

You can't take me back! I won't go back!"

Damas frowned and started down the steps. "What the bloody bones did you people do to make him do...that?!"

"That's...that's what I was trying to tell you before, sire," Rezzik said meekly as he backed away from Jak, "We didn't release him from care, he had some kind of...panic episode. Ripped out the IV and nearly killed Jessop on the way out."

The grinding of teeth was audible even at the bottom of the stairs.

"Petros is going to strangle you if he finds that you didn't take precautions with newcomer trauma," Damas said sharply.

"But we didn't know-! He was unconscious!"

"Get out."

Damas pointed to the elevator.

"Send Petros up here with his file after he deals with you."

When the guards didn't immediately follow the medic, Damas growled. "All of you get out! I've had enough foolishness for one day!"

"Sire," Jin gulped, "The uh, the boy-?"

"He's fine. I have to ask him questions for paperwork now thanks to at least one of you."

That left Jak and Daxter alone with the really really pissed off Wastelander King. (He hadn't even known there were enough Wastelanders to have a king!)

For almost a minute the man paced, swearing very colorfully under his breath. After six or seven very slow, deep breaths, he finally seemed to get control of himself again.

"How do you see needle scars and not think "hm, perhaps someone should stay with him to explain when he wakes up"? It's not that complicated!"

He pinched the bridge of his nose and groaned.

"Is it the full moon this week? It must be. Everyone's lost their twice-rotted minds around here."

He took another deep breath, and after letting it out slowly, he sat down on the edge of the dais.

"Well, I can hardly think of a worse introduction to Spargus than that, but I hope you won't hold it against me."

Jak kept the staff clutched tightly in his hands, but didn't aim it at the man yet.

"Who are you? And what's Spargus? I know it isn't in Haven. Nobody cares what age you are in Haven."

"Definitely not Haven." Damas buried a curse in his hands.

"Gods I hate that place."

Daxter scowled. "Join the club."

"My name is Damas. I am the king of the territory of Spargus, and the man who pulled you out of the desert that surrounds us. And you are going to be an interesting case, I can tell."

Damas used his staff to drag a box from the side of the throne to just beside him. After some digging, he came up with an oddly shaped piece of metal.

"Ah. There it is."

He looked up.

"This is a battle amulet. Earning three grants adult newcomers citizenship and equal legal protections in the city."

"What if you're not an adult?" Jak challenged.

"Then you're already a citizen, but you can't vote until you're nineteen." Damas dismissed this as if it barely warranted mentioning.

"Now, understand this, boy: I am giving you your first amulet. And I will give you the modular gun. But you will not be allowed to take further trials until you pass eighteen years of age. I will hold your gate pass until such time as you can show me you have learned to survive in the wastes out there."

"You're keeping us here?!" Jak bristled.

"You're a minor. You had heatstroke. It happens. And since my people want to be idiots today evidently, you and I are going to be stuck with each other for a couple years. So you'd better get used to this place." Damas turned and stood up to stretch.

"Frith-rot-it. I have to go get the bloody intake forms, make a whole folder now- Do we even have more guardian ad litem forms?!"

He stepped somewhere behind the throne and seemed to vanish. "Amuse yourselves while I'm gone. No drowning in my throne room.".

And then he was gone , leaving the boys with more questions.

"What...what just happened?" Daxter asked.

Jak didn't have an answer.

[vehemourn]

guy in mabinogi rolled up on a vespa and began polling

[kyouka-supremacy]

(´･ᴗ･ ` )

[sutherlins]

↳ HOW I LEARNED TO LOVE THE BOMB by @bakerst-sherlolly [COMPLETE - 2.8K | Rated T+]

Natalie’s POV of her life. And it's deep in inside you / I think I just found the bomb / Baby, how do you hide it so? / How do you live like this? Oh / When you get home, who'll I get? / I don't know when you'll explode.

sutherlins fic appreciation week (please show the fics love, kudos, and comments on ao3!)

I think Baker wrote this for the eldest daughter in slightly dysfunctional families.... whew. This is the only non-sydcarmy fic on this weeks list (and baker has wonderful sydcarmy fics so check them out when you visit her ao3 profile) but I truly can't recommend this enough. Nat's voice is so present in this fic, and the journey through her life is a beautiful one. Tender and intimate and beautiful!!!

Please go read if you haven't already, and show some love over on ao3! (ps. I'm doing 7 this month and intend to make this a monthly thing!)