#had to translate most of this myself so just keep that in mind

[novemb-r]

Gunvor Hofmo (b. 30 June 1921 Oslo/Kristiania - d. 14 October 1995, Oslo) was a Norwegian writer considered among the country's most significant modernist poets. She eventually was named "Mørkets sangerske / songstress of darkness", being one of the leading poets of the post-war period, the horrors of the war and the loss of her Jewish lover Ruth Maier left a deep mark on the majority of her writing.

P.1: Gunvor Hofmo P.2: Gunvor Hofmo & Ruth Maier

Hofmo was only 19 when the war broke out, and several of her relatives were imprisoned or killed by the Germans. But perhaps the biggest loss was her lover, Ruth Maier, an Austrian Jewish woman born in 1920, who came to Norway as a refugee in 1939. A year later Hofmo met Maier at a voluntary work service at Biristrand, both being fond of writing, they quickly became friends. Eventually the two women became lovers and they traveled around Norway together, working from place to place, until they returned to Oslo sometime in 1942.

Ruth was arrested and sent to the Auschwitz extermination camp together with 532 other Norwegian Jews on the transport ship Danube on 26 November 1942. Gunvor followed her girlfriend to the dock and never heard from her again. Maier died 1. December 1942 in Auschwitz.

P. 1&2: Ruth Maier

Ruth wrote several diaries that Hofmo kept after her death. She made attempts to publish them in the post war period, but it was only after her passing in 1995 that Ruth Maier's diaries were discovered and later published in 2007.

The topic of homosexuality plays a role several times in her diaries, already at the age of thirteen, Ruth discussed same-sex love and desire with a friend in Vienna but was happy when she could push the subject away: "I think about how horrible it was when I went and thought about it. I looked it up in the encyclopedia. I asked Mutz [Ruth Maier's mother] too, but she said it's the kind of thing I don't understand. Thank God it's over now. Yes , if you don't have problems, you get them!" Later, after she had gotten to know Gunvor Hofmo in Norway, she would return to the topic.

Unlike Gunvor Hofmo, it is not easy to decide whether Ruth Maier was a lesbian or not, but her love for her was clear, she wrote of Hofmo in her diary several times:

In January 1941, she wrote: "Gunvor's eyes are dark blue. They are bottomless. […] The days are brighter when you love someone." In the autumn of the same year, she admitted that she could not imagine life without Gunvor.

Again in 1941, "I can't say how warm I feel with Gunvor. I love her deep eyes. I love her reserved way of talking about things. Gunvor is a valuable human being. I would sacrifice a lot to make her happy."

In her diary after Maier was admitted to Ullevål Hospital in Oslo after a nervous breakdown, the doctors asked her about her feelings for Gunvor Hofmo as well. In her diary, she noted: "I can't do anything for that I feel so deeply for her. The doctors must have thought that I in this regard have an unnatural inclination. That is not the case. What I feel for her is completely natural. I feel spiritually connected to her. There is not the slightest hint of physical lust in me. But it may be that I have a need for love that requires its expression, where Gunvor is a (dear)welcome object."

Gunvor Hofmo and her girlfriend Ruth Maier

After the war, in 1946, Gunvor Hofmo published her first collection of poems: Jeg vil hjem til menneskene / I want to go home to the humans.

It is here that we find the iconic post-war poem "Det er ingen hverdag mer / There is no everyday anymore":

God, if you still see: There is no everyday anymore. There is just silent screams, there is just black corpses that hang in red trees! Hear how quiet it is. We turn to go home but we always meet them. Everything we sense one day is the breath of the killed! If we in hiding go: it is their ashes that we tread. God, if you still see: There is no everyday anymore.

In the debut collection, as in all of Hofmo's later releases, it was grief and suffering that stood at the center.

In the post-war period, she was to become a long-term patient at Gaustad Hospital in Oslo. Doctors diagnosed her with "schizophrenia, paranoid form" in 1954. She was there for shorter and longer periods for 22 years - until she was discharged in 1975. Before and after this period, she produced a large number of poetry collections.

Just before she was admitted to Gaustad, she wrote one of her most famous poems, Jeg har våket / I have awakened. The last part of the poem, about Maier:

... I saw my friend, the only one, I saw her go to die. And since the trees have mourned, and since then Death has drawn my body and soul and voice into the sea of ​​despair!

In 1947, Hofmo began a long term relationship with Astrid Tollefsen (1897-1973) and became one of the first Norwegians living in an openly lesbian relationship. They continued to live and travel together until Hofmo was incapacitated and committed to Gaustad for her illness.

Afterwards there was a period of 16 years silence where she published no new work until she broke her silence with the collection 'Gjest på jorden / Guest on earth' in 1971.

She lived an anonymous life in the capital city, refusing to be interviewed nor did she read her work aloud. Her last years spent mostly in solitude and isolation apart from a few friends who were allowed in. She died suddenly in October 1995, debilitated by diabetes with which she had been struggling for a couple of years.

Hofmos work was little translated during her lifetime. And there seems to be no official translated works in English. (The poems you see on this post have been translated by me.)

Sources: x x x x

[golden-cherry]

the way you like it - c. leclerc

pairing: Charles Leclerc x reader

summary: winning twice does something to Charles - in a good way

warnings: basically porn without plot, smut, fingering, overstimulation, slight choking, mentions of creampie and somnophilia, unprotected sex, poorly translated french

word count: 550

a/n: hello friends. I haven't written in a long time and this just happened and I couldn't keep it to myself. enjoy!

"Si bon pour moi, mon amour", Charles groans into your ear, his hand on your stomach sliding down to your thighs and feeling how sticky they are, stained with both of your cum. "Regarde combine tu es venu pour moi." so good for me, my love. look at how much you came for me.

"Charles, please." Your voice is barely more than a whisper. With your eyes closed, you blindly try to reach for his hand, his skilled fingers slowly circling your swollen clit. "It's too much. I can't-"

Charles carefully pushes your hand away and you're too exhausted to do anything about it. "You can and you will." You feel his sweaty skin against your back as he drapes your leg over his hip, his front pressing against your back. "Je Saison sue tu en as encore un pour moi." I know you've got one more for me.

You couldn't have known that his second Grand Prix win in a row would not only increase his self-confidence, but his stamina by one hundred percent as well. Right after his victory celebration and all the formalities, Charles had dragged you into his hotel room and you hadn't left the bed since. That was several hours and several orgasms ago.

Your pussy is sore, your thighs ache and the thin skin on your neck is visibly red from his beard scratching over it. But Charles doesn't care. As his fingers gently circle your most sensitive spot, his other arm wraps around you and his hand gropes your tit. As he rolls your nipple between two fingers, you lean your head back against his shoulder, moaning.

"Charles, I-"

"What do you want, ma belle? Huh? Do you want my fingers?" The fingers that were just circling your clit glide lower and he gently slides two inside you. "Tu sens comme tu es mouillée?" do you feel how wet you are for me? He curls his fingers, touching that sweet spot inside you that makes you squirm and see stars. "Ou est-ce moi qui fuis de toi?" or is it me that's leaking out of you?

You can't talk, can't even think as he spreads soft kisses on your neck and slowly fucks his come back into you, his fingers bringing you once again to your climax. Completely overstimulated and close to the pain threshold, you grab his wrist to push him away, almost whining, and indeed he lets you.

Only to then press you even closer to his muscular body and slide his cock home for what feels like the hundredth time that night. Your eyes roll back, your breathing is ragged. "Dètends-toi, ma belle." just relax, pretty one. Charles' hand, which was on your tit a moment ago, gently rests against your throat. As you moan, he can feel the vibration and his cock twitches noticeably.

"I know you're fucked out and tired, but I'm not finished with you yet." He places his thumb on your jaw and tilts your head so he can take a look at your face. Your brows are furrowed, your lips swollen and you're so exhausted that you can only breathe him in. He loves what he does to you.

"And I know that you don't mind me fucking you when you're asleep." His thrusts are slow, but hard. You feel him everywhere. "Go to sleep, mon amour. I'm right here." Charles presses a kiss to your forehead, before nuzzling his face back into your neck, his hips slowly rocking you to sleep. "And when you wake up, I'll still be inside you. Just comme tu lahmes." just the way you like it.

[ramp-it-up]

Sugar, Cubed

Photo found on Pinterest

Summary: I revisited Sugar and the boys from the Sugar is Sweet séries, and let me tell you. Bucky and Steve sure have grown up from their college days. They are no longer playing around. And they are coming for you. How do you choose? And do you have to?

Word Count: 3.5K

Pairings: Steve Rogers x Reader; Bucky Barnes x Reader; boss Tony Stark x reader

Warnings: 18+ Only, Minors DNI. Not Beta��d. Read at your own risk. Roommate/Co-worker au, S MUT! Angst, little bit of slow burn. Main character injury, allusions to sex, sexual tension, indecent proposal, caught between two lovers trope, idiots in love, Tony being Tony, truth or dare, talk of voyeruism, possibility of group sex, eventual polyandry.

A/N: This is related to the Sugar is Sweet au, but can be read alone. This is part one, part two will be posted next week. I hope you like it. This is part of Falloween 2024.

I no longer have a taglist. Please follow @rampitupandread and turn on notifications to learn when I post! 😘

I Do NOT Consent to my work being reposted, translated or presented on any other blog or site other than by myself.

——

You met the two most hated men in your life while you were living together as recipients of the prestigious Stark STEM Fellowship at NYU.

There was an instant spark when you met James Buchanan Barnes and Steven Grant Rogers, best friends from childhood. They sarcastically named you Sugar because of your initial rudeness, but the nickname just stuck around after you warmed up to them.

In the Stark Fellows program, life was hard work and hard play. Soon it was down to just you, Bucky and Steve, and life was a dream with parties, booze, and almost anything you wanted, as long as you lent your minds to the work.

Tony Stark tolerated anything that would keep productivity high. He knew that all work and no play would make Bucky, Sugar and Steve dull scientists.

So he encouraged you three to play. And funded it too.

Steve and Bucky were so protective of you, their sweet Sugar. The sexual tension that came with living with them was heady stuff.

You basked in the glow of Bucky and Steve's attention, while observant of the lines of partners at their bedroom doors and the competitiveness between the football quarterback and lacrosse captain.

You swore that neither Bucky nor Steve would ever win you, no matter the plays they made. But they each had you sprung in different ways. And they were so damn competitive.

They both wanted your heart.

It was only a matter of time before you gave it to each of them.

You fell hard for Bucky first. And it was urgent and intense.

But after just a year together, Bucky accepted a position with Stark Labs in Bucharest for a term that stretched into two years as he completed grad school at Politehnica. It happened without warning. You were angry at his choice and trapped in New York by your own contract with Stark for graduate work. 

You and Bucky were over. And you were heartbroken.

Steve’s waiting arms were open, and it was effortless and freeing to realize that the golden boy was the one who truly loved you. And he’d always been there. Your heart healed. You thought.

According to social media, Bucky seemed to love his new location, extending his contract beyond the initial year-long contract to finish his degree. It seemed that all he did was work.

Not that you were stalking his IG or anything.

He didn’t communicate with you directly, and with Steve only intermittently. It was like he’d erased his best friend and his best girl from his life. 

It made sense, since his best girl was now his best friend’s girl.

Then, during his second year, Bucky's stay in Romania was cut short,  he came back to New York, although not in the way you imagined.

Bucky had been critically injured; losing a limb. Tony made sure he had the best care, flying with Bucky to Wakanda for experimental surgery and overseeing his recovery. 

You found out via a social media after Bucky was back in town, and not from Tony or anyone else.

You were livid.

You raged at Steve, who had lied to you that he had to go to London for two weeks for work when he was actually in Wakanda at Bucky’s bedside.

The betrayal ran deep.

You and Steve were done after that, although you continued to work side by side at the labs. You felt as if Tony was trying to drive you over the edge, having you work around the clock with your ex. But he didn’t care. He had some insane theory that the tension would yield better results.

Each day, you longed for the hour that you could go to your posh new quarters in Stark tower. Although it was lonely, at least your apartment was private, and you could unwind in peace. Your days were tense, but predictable.

Until they weren’t anymore.

——

One afternoon, the hairs on the back of your neck stood up as you stared into the monitor to watch the results from the latest compound analysis roll numbers across your workstation.

“Hey there, Sugar.”

You froze, looking up and out over Manhattan through the window above your station. You couldn’t believe it, but you saw a pale reflection of him in the mirrored glass.

You slowly turned around.

Bucky looked good, his pale complexion not all the result of the blue gray skies over the Hudson. His face had grown more angular, his hair was shorter, and his eyes seemed older, but outside, he was the same Bucky. 

You didn’t know what you were expecting. 

Bucky Barnes seemed whole, except his left hand, the “golden arm” that was the pride of Bobcat football, was now black and gold metal. 

Vibranium. 

You stared at it as it reached for you.

“So I don’t get a hug?” 

Your eyes moved to his face while Steve cleared his throat and reminded you that he was there. You tried to forget his existence most days, but Bucky walking into your lab had erased him from your mind completely. For a moment.

“Sugar–”

You cut him off.

“Fuck you, Grant.” 

You looked back at Bucky with tears in your eyes.

“And fuck you, James.”

Despite your epithets, you threw yourself into his arms, sobbing with emotion.

“How could you…?”

You whispered it into his suit coat, your fingers digging into the material at his back as you cried into his shoulder. Bucky held you tight against him, and he felt harder, more solid. 

You realized that under all of the anger and hurt, you were mainly just relieved that he was alive.

Over two years of anxiety and unprocessed feelings were coming out, and Bucky rocked you as your body heaved. Steve came up behind you and hugged you both.

For a minute you relished the feeling, being held by the only two men that you ever had feelings for. You felt safe. But then you remembered the secrets and the lies, and anger flooded you again. You twisted out of their grasp.

“Don’t get any ideas, assholes.”

You moved away from them and wrapped your arms around yourself, suddenly cold.

“Do you know how worried I was? No one gave me any information. At all. I had to find out from social media. I felt like a fool, Bucky.”

You scowled at him.

“And you. You knew that, Cap. And you lied to my fucking face.”

You glared at Steve.

You looked from Steve to Bucky, who shared a guilty glance with each other. 

“That’s my fault, Sugar. I– I made Tony and Steve swear not to tell you.”

Your dark haired ex boyfriend looked at his shoes as he rubbed the back of his neck with his new hand. He held it up and looked at it and then at you.

“Didn’t know how you would feel about this.”

You ignored the uncertainty and hurt in his eyes.

"What do you want? A cookie? A pat on the head?  A tear? You are not going to make me feel sorry for you. Not when you let everyone else but me in on your secret."

You cocked your head and gazed curiously at the new appendage, then back at him.

“Bucky, I am stronger than you think. And I loved you.”

Both Steve and Bucky winced at the word ‘loved,’ but both for different reasons.

“I would have accepted you anyway you came. And I would have been by your side while you recovered. But you didn’t want that. But it looks as if you’re fine.” 

Steve sat back down at his workstation, resigned. You shook your head at him. If it wouldn’t have cost you a million dollars, which you didn’t have, you would have walked out of Stark Industries and moved across the world. But you had work to do.

“You’re interrupting our work here. You need to leave.”

You wanted him away from you like fire.

“That’s what I’m tryna tell you, Doll.” 

Bucky strolled over to the locker area and took off his coat, grabbing goggles and a lab coat.

“I’m reporting for duty. Tony assigned me back to the New York lab.”

—-

Tony leaned against the bar in his office, after he downed the drink that he’d offered you and that you’d refused. It was only 10:46 am. You were trying to hand in your resignation. Or at least ask for a transfer to a new location.

“And just where do you think you’re going to go, Sugar?”

You glared at your boss. Bolstered by anger, this was the least intimidated, and most angry, you’d ever been at him.

“Paris, maybe? Tokyo? Hell, even Des Moines. I’ll take anything. I need space.”

Tony shook his head. 

“I need you here. The productivity with Barnes back is about to be through the roof.”

You just stared at him incredulously.

“You’re not thinking with your brain. Your heart and what is pounding between your legs are in the way.” 

Your mouth dropped open.

“...But the tension between you Barnes and Rogers will make me a lot of money. I’ve studied you since your freshman year. I know what makes you tick, what motivates you to do your best work. And the numbers don’t lie. Being right in the middle of Bucky and Cap makes lots of money for Stark Industries.”

You stared out at the view of New Jersey, outraged.

“Besides. I have the exclusive contract over your mind, body, and soul for the next seven years. Might as well make the most of it.”

You sighed and took the drink Tony offered you this time.

—-

Bucky Barnes was the most infuriating man you’d ever met, second only to Steve Rogers.

Your brain was scrambled when you weren’t working, so you worked that much harder to stay in control. You hated when Tony was right.

Here you were, flanked by two gorgeous men whose work clothes only accentuated their powerful bodies. Bodies that you knew very well. Your tongue had traced every plane of each of them. Your hands explored their broad shoulders and taught, muscular frames. Your fists had clenched their throbbing cocks and you had accepted them inside you. 

No matter how mad you were at them, you couldn’t get them out of your mind.

Imagining Bucky crashing his lips to yours as he backed you up against a wall made your core throb. And dreaming about Steve’s hands around your thighs as he lifted you onto a lab table made your nipples tingle.

Working in between them in the lab was torture for your neglected body and soul. You were doomed to work in  between the two men who’d fucked you most thoroughly and recently.

You didn’t even want to think about your heart.

You ignored the lingering looks in their blue eyes, the way they gentled their voices when they spoke to you, and the way they tried to come in contact with you for no reason. The number of times fingers lingered over passed specimens, the way space became so tight that they had to squeeze behind you in the lab, and the uncomfortable number of times you ended up between them in the equipment closet made you lose your breath.

Steve and Bucky never pressed you for anything, and all you had to say was ‘excuse me,’ for them to move out of your way, but it was untenable. You would give neither of them the satisfaction of getting upset. You managed made it through work and home to your brand new vibrator every night after long days of fighting their pheromones in the lab.

After a week of forced proximity, you were experiencing the forced Stark Industries Happy Hour. As you waited for your drink at the bar, you thought it strange that Tony had never made them mandatory before Bucky came back. That was quite the coincidence.

You wanted to pace yourself with your drinking as you realized that you had to stay there for another couple of hours to get the bonus that came with attendance. The word ‘happy’ and the names Bucky Barnes or Steve Rogers did not go together, so you participated in each round to numb the desire that was plaguing you. 

For someone so smart. You were so clueless sometimes.

—-

As you rode the elevator in Stark Tower to your apartment later that evening, it seemed as if the elevator was moving extra slowly. You didn’t know if it was the tequila affecting your senses, or an actual malfunction, so you asked FRIDAY for analytics, but for some reason, she said you didn’t have clearance for the answer.

You were mad and mute for a minute, trying to clear your head for the security code. It was then that one of your fellow passengers, who you were trying to ignore, broke the silence.

“Okay Sugar, truth, or dare?”

You looked at him as Steve watched you both. 

“I said, truth, or dare.”

“Truth is Bucky, we’re not kids anymore.”

“So you pick truth. You don’t get to pick the question, though.”

Bucky ignored your ire.

“Which one of our cocks is better, mine or Steve’s?”

Your eyes widened and you gasped as Steve interjected,

“Buck…”

“What, Punk? Remember she rated them before she experienced them. Did that hold out? Or did she tell you that you were the 9.9 too?”

Steve rolled his eyes and went back to watching the floor count, mouth set in a thin line. You had not, in fact, told Steve that he was the 9.9. 

“Stop being a little shit, James.” 

You were rocked, memories flooding back, dysregulating your nervous system even more.

“So you’re saying you won't answer the truth?”

You crossed your arms and legs as you leaned back against the elevator wall. You looked up at the floor indicator lights, trying to stop the emotions from getting to you.

“You can pass. Or you can take a dare, Sugar.”

You huffed, fighting the urge to just say pass. Some lingering adolescent urge refused to let you.

“This is so fucking ridiculous.”

You spoke it outwardly, but you were talking to yourself, to your riotous body, which was reacting to these two men in this enclosed space in the most alarming way.

Bucky was watching you intently, but Steve hadn’t turned around, just replied in that voice of his.

“Those are the rules, Sugar. You should probably answer the question or take the dare.”

You closed your eyes and took a deep breath when you realized what this was. You were dealing with male egos and competitiveness. And they wanted to know the answer, hear you talk about their cocks when for some reason the agave gods were making you horny.

You had to get out of there. 

“You’re not making stupid bets and putting notches in the bedposts any longer. Bucky, we were together, and then you left. I thought it was something that it was not. Then Steve and I got together. I loved you both and in return, you both played me. You both won.” 

Steve turned around and faced you as Bucky advanced closer. He licked his lips and you wanted, no you needed, to run.

“You think I didn’t love you, Sugar? Shit, I worshiped you.”

The sensation of Bucky’s firm body crowding you in bed, taking up the mattress, leg wedged between your thighs while he delivered hot kisses and a slow grind against your clit came out of nowhere. You missed it. You wanted it again. But you lifted your chin as you straightened your spine, determined to resist him.

“You left me.”

“Stark made me!”

Bucky’s blue eyes were wide with emotion.

“‘S’okay Buck. She doesn’t believe I loved her either. Even though I always have. And I caught her when you were gone.”

You looked up at Steve and saw the hurt, and you were preparing not to care, but the feeling of Steve naked against your back, his hands roaming all over you, whispering assurances and praise as he rocked inside and made you come apart in his grip almost made your knees buckle.

You had to move, so you pushed at the rock hard wall of them and they let you move them to get to the elevator controls.

“Why. Won’t. This. Thing. Move!?!?”

You pushed too many buttons at once as Steve and Bucky tried to stop you. The only thing that stopped was the slow progress of the elevator. The small room jolted to a halt, and you stumbled, right into Bucky and Steve’s arms as everything went dark.

“Well now, Sugar. You should have just taken the dare.”

Bucky’s sass enraged you and you cursed and batted their hands away from you as you reached for your purse to find your phone.

—-

A half an hour later, you were all sitting on the floor, Bucky’s jacket beneath you and Steve’s jacket around your arms because the climate control was off. There was no telling how long it would be before someone would find you.

There had been silence since you realized you had not cell phone signal and cursed for 3 minutes straight. You were more than sober now.

God, you wished you were drunk.

“Answer the question. Or take the dare, Sugar.”

This time it was Steve.

“Your fucking competitiveness is so annoying, you know that? Can you two accomplish anything on your own, just for your own pride? Or altruism? Or shits and giggles?”

You could feel their eyes on you in the dark. You fought against them in the darkness, or you were just fighting the darkness, because the lack of sight was enhancing your other senses, and lord you didn’t really want to feel those right now.

“Truth. Or Dare?”

Bucky’s velvet voice was undeterred. You shook your head at it.

“Fine. If it will get you to leave me alone. Dare.”

“I dare you to give up control.”

The response was immediate, as if he were waiting for you to say that.

You groaned, a sound that sounded to sensual, even to your own ears. You were going for annoyed.

“Bucky, it’s late. I’m tired. I’m stuck in an elevator with my two exes. This is a nightmare. And you’re daring me to give up a concept?”

He chuckled.

“Not the concept of control. I think you know exactly what I mean. Give me control. One long weekend. It will be just like when we were roommates. But without the endless teasing and blue balls. This time you give us both that we deserve.”

“What the hell are you talking about, Bucky?”

Your head turned toward Steve, whose voice was on edge.

“I get to watch. You and Sugar, Steve. And direct. And participate…and we find out who is the best…”

“Hold on…”

You could feel Steve shifting in his position on the floor.

“Are you talking about….? Watching me and Sugar… what–?”

“Really Bucky? Do you have a metal brain as well?”

You wanted to fight, but them touching you was out of the question. Bucky was pure chaos.

“If we do this, what would that accomplish?”

“The fuck are you entertaining this nonsense for, Steve? Who the fuck–”

Bucky interrupted your rant.

“Well, you’ve entertained both of us, Sugar, haven’t you? Teased us. Toyed with us. Played us against the other. Wore our clothes and nothing else, slept between us in our bed. Teased us with that body well before we could really do anything about it.”

You dropped your head in your hands, exhausted, as Bucky continued.

“And then, when you finally granted us between your legs, one by one, there was always this spector hanging over the bed, or the floor, or the counter, or the lawn that we fucked on, wasn’t there?”

Bucky paused and you heard the bitterness in his voice. 

“The other one of us was always in the closet or the bushes, or in your head, weren’t we?”

"Don't blame me for your twisted predilections, Bucky."

“What about your predilections, Sugar? You’ve played us against each other long enough. Don’t forget. We both know what gets you off.”

Bucky’s voice wrapped around you in the dark, and you wanted to climb on and ride it as your clit began to pulse. You cursed your body’s reaction to him.

“We know what gets you off hard. Steve told me everything. And it was the same as with me. Your fantasies, Sugar…”

Steve spoke up.

“Bucky, this is uncalled for…”.

"Stop being such a boy scout."

“We know you, Sugar. What we don’t know is who you like the best. We deserve to know.”

“Bucky…”

“It would give us all closure, Steve.”

“You’re crazy, Bucky.”

“Put up or shut up, Sugar.”

Suddenly the lights came back on and you scrambled to stand up as the elevator started again, this time moving at normal speed. You looked between one man who was flushed red and the other who had a smirk on his face.

The elevator stopped and the doors opened, as you bolted out, you replied to Bucky.

“Why don’t you just fuck each other? That will kill two birds with one stone.”

——

Next part: Simple Sugar

Let me know if you like it! 😊

[zhongrin]

𒆙 morax

part 6/8 of ⎡∞ / 𝟔 𝟎 𝟎 𝟎 ⁺⎦, a zhongli 2023 birthday event

© zhongrin | 2023  ✼  no repost・translations・plagiarism of any kind・ai data mining. rebloggers get a free cup of tea ♡

𖧷 tags ┈ minors dni, gn!reader, afab!reader, biting/marking, cockwarming, choking but not really, edging, dirty talk, cervix fucking but not really ‘fucking’-, i don’t know how to tag things help

𝑜𝓊𝓇 𝒻𝓊𝓁𝓁 𝓂𝑒𝓃𝓊 ❬ masterlist ❭ 𐫱 𝓂𝑒𝓂𝒷𝑒𝓇𝓈𝒽𝒾𝓅 ❬ taglist ❭

“𝓁ord morax! must you keep branding me with these marks?!”

morax blinked owlishly as you barged into his little office. he would have immediately beheaded others who would dare act so boorish, but your presence - nevermind the fact you were glaring at him - would always be welcomed into even the most private corners of his life, so he merely leaned back on his golden throne, abandoning the papers waiting for his approval as he gazed at you like you were the whole universe. his cor lapis-lined tail coiling behind the chair thumped lightly on the ground as he spotted the tokens he had so graciously placed on your skin.

“…. yes?”

the honest answer seemed to have made you double back. you could tell from his clueless expression that he bore no remorse for his actions.

“i must beseech you to restrain yourself. the adepti dare not even raise their heads when i talk to them!“

“but… unlike minerals and other inorganic materials, your skin heals, so naturally i must renew the imprints every now and then. i cannot fathom what made you so displeased? i have taken precautions so the process would be enjoyable to you at the very least… or are you saying that the act was not pleasurable for you after all?”

you had to resist the urge to facepalm, but you couldn’t help the natural reaction of your cheeks starting to sizzle with warmth. morax’s gentle smile lilted into a slightly cheeky grin, and he beckoned you to come over. you both praised and berated yourself inwardly when you obeyed his command like a faithful pup, knowing to seat yourself on his lap.

“are you not proud to bear the proof that you are mine, my dear? if it truly upsets you, i… will try my best to reign in my instincts. but you know how i always seem to lose myself in the heat of the moment…,” his kisses journeyed from your temple down your neck and shoulder, a silent plea for leniency.

it would have been a sweet and innocent gesture if his hands hadn’t wandered above your silken robes.

“my lord….”

“mmm… i’m sorry, darling, it’s the dragon instincts,” he nuzzled lovingly onto the junction of your neck, and you quickly felt both the heat and his arousal rise. quite literally, that was. “your smell mixed with mine is just too tantalizing to ignore. to illustrate, would you be able to pass by a banquet full of your favored delicacies without salivating?”

“perhaps not, but i would be able to refrain from devouring the whole banquet like some greedy buffoon,” you faked a reprimanding tone, eyebrows raised.

“which proves that you are, in some ways, stronger than me,” his arms tightened around you, geo-lined appendages sneakily slipping beneath your garment to rub your inner thighs, before trailing over your dampened underwear, “though it seems to me that you’re putting up a front…”

you were torn between rolling your eyes or blushing in embarrassment, “perish the salacious thoughts. i came straight from the bedchambers, my lord.”

“ah, so these are both your arousal and the remnants of our passionate love last night? how delightful. no wonder you smell like the most fragrant and mouthwatering delicacy in the whole teyvat,” he pressed his lips on one of the hickeys, staring in contemplation at your body nestled on his lap, an idea brewing like the freshest tea in his mind, “say, darling… i know you’re tired, but won’t you at least let this lovestruck lizard steal a morsel from the figurative banquet? just a little arrangement to tide me over until the moon graces our nation.”

“….. i will consider your proposal; enlighten me.”

you really, really should have thought twice about making contracts with a dragon.

seated snugly on top of your beloved’s lap after he had - far too easily, much to his delight and your fervent embarrassment - eased you onto his cocks, his non-dominant hand poised to lightly rub your abdomen, right on the bulge indicating the way he was all nestled inside your tight heat. his other hand had long since left your hip and was in the process of writing some kind paperwork to ensure the construction of what shall be a prosperous harbor sometime in the far future would be going smoothly — or something along that line. he might have sort of meandered about it as he worked, but alas, you were too distracted to actually listen to his words, clenching and squirming like a bunny in heat instead.

morax hummed. momentarily, he set his pen down against the polished sandbearer wood of his desk. his slender fingers reached up to lightly brush and wrap around your throat. your breath hitched, heart soaring like a hummingbird, cunt trembling. he wasn’t even putting any pressure ー just a light touch. a warning. and yet the message was there; even more pronounced with the verbal warning whispered right beside your ear.

"mind your manners, darling."

you nodded with a whimper, gulping and feeling his fingers lightly caressing your pulse point before they detached themselves from your heated skin to curl elegantly around the pen once more. the deity resumed talking as if whatever happened was a delusional wet dream you conjured out of desperation this fine afternoon, but this time, you ceased squirming. he gave you a soft kiss on your nape as a reward. pride permeated your veins, your eyelashes fluttering and fists clenching in an attempt to control yourself.

"not to fret, your patience will be rewarded," he purred, deep and velvety and smooth, his breath tickling your skin, burning your nerves and sending your arousal lurching. perhaps you should have begged for him to relent to his depraved desires and devour the whole banquet instead.

the hand on your tummy trailed upwards to settle on your chest, palming idly before rolling a painfully hard nipple between the calloused pads of his fingers, the gentle movement a complement to the cold sensation of his rings pressing onto soft, sensitive flesh. sparks bloomed like fireworks and slick trickled down your stuffed pussy. yet still, you obeyed with trembling thighs; the only body part moving being your walls, squeezing around his cock, wishing for it to move and bully your sweetest spots with hard and precise series ofー

"so well behaved for me...."

you swore you heard him chuckle.

"my good mate."

he graciously bestowed you a new mark on your neck and a teasing little thrust, just enough for the two heads to peck your cervix like a teasing lover, savoring the enchanting wail falling from your lips.

“oh, this archon can’t wait to utterly ruin you tonight.”

𖧷 𝓂𝑒𝓂𝒷𝑒𝓇𝓈𝒽𝒾𝓅 ❬ taglist ❭ ┈ @abyssmal-skies | @hamdehlesmis | @depressivecomforts | @sunnshineflxwer | @yuutasbabe | @queen-belial | @stygianoir | @silentmoths | @niktwazny303 | @dustofthedailylife | @marina-and-the-memes | @mixed-kester | @lordbugs | @anonymousficreader | @shizunxie | @ansy-tea | @irethepotato | @sassy-cat-in-town | @syrenkitsune | @smokipoki | @cakeboxie | @crystalflygeo | @ciexuvia | @illaasya | @celestewritestoomuch | @pams-comfortzone | @spidermanluvr444 | @ourstrawberryclouds | @ryuryuryuyurboat

[pretty-little-mind33]

Count Alexei Vronsky x wife!reader

Summary: Your husband comforts you on your period.

Genre: Fluff

Warnings: blood. having a period lol, probably shitty Russian translation

~ sorry this took soooo so long, anon! i also realize I have completely ignored our boy so here is some Vronsky love ~

COUNT VRONSKY MASTERLIST

You had a dreadful feeling in your stomach that this would happen. Your mind blanks as you feel the cramp coming on again and you can feel the blood drip down your thighs, being stopped by��nothing and inevitably soaking your undergarments.

You feel dizzy as the darkness of the room seems to taunt you. You're too scared to move, in case that means you'll stain your husband's satin sheets—if you haven't already. You turn your head and look at Alexei, who is asleep, blissfully unaware of the turmoil in your head. Your heart thumps. You don't want to wake him for this, but everything hurts now.

You shift, the wetness pooling your thighs as tears prickle your eyes as you stir. Finally, you sit up and wince as you hold your stomach. You bend your head, keeping in pained whimpers as you don't dare stand and look at the bloody mess that is surely underneath you. 

"Милый (Darling)?" Your husband whispers and you jump, looking at him. The moonlight from the windows illuminates his features as he yawns, sits up and runs a hand in his blond hair. His eyes are bleary and shame hits you. 

You'd woken him up. 

To your horror, he reaches towards you as his hand touches the mattress. He frowns and pulls his hand away, realizing he's just touched what feels like blood.

"Are you hurt?" It's his first question. He's still exhausted as he sits up completely and crawls over the soft blankets to sit next to you, avoiding the stains he can see on the sheets. Alexei looks at you, seeing the blood on your nightdress and around you as well as the tears in your eyes. 

While he isn't the most educated on this issue, he isn't entirely useless either. His blue eyes soften and he takes your chin in his hand. "Милый (Darling), it's okay," he soothes, wiping your tears with his thumb. "It happens."

"The sheets," you whisper back, sniffling. 

"Can be washed or thrown away. It isn't a problem, мой голубь (my dove)." He looks down at you again. "Does it hurt terribly?"

You nod, gripping your nightdress. "I was going to draw myself a bath," you tell him. Alexei hums. He looks at the grandfather clock in the corner of the room, it's four in the morning. He yawns again and runs his hand down his face, rubbing his eyes until he snaps awake. 

"Nonsense. I'll do it for you," he says and takes your hands, helping you stand. You wince as blood continues to drip down your legs and you look at your husband, appalled by your own body.

Alexei shakes his head. "Will you stop worrying? A bit of blood never hurt anyone, promise." 

He looks down at his blood-stained hands from earlier, having now stained yours, and grimaces a little. "We both need to clean up, Милый (Darling)," he says and guides you down the hall and into the bathroom.

You follow, a lump still in your throat. Alexei washes his hands in the sink, having you do the same before you stand in front of him, looking very miserable as the water runs into the tub. His soft hands glide across your skin, lifting your nightdress as he looks at you, no sign of perversion, simply pure admiration in his eyes. 

"You're always so beautiful," he tells you honestly, his hand on your hips. You have the undeniable need to cover up yourself as you stand naked in front of him. Alexei holds your hands in his when you try and he shushes you.

"Please don't hide from me," he says as he kisses your forehead tenderly. "I didn't marry you just to have you hide yourself from me.”

You look at him, eyes still tired and teary, but you allow him to guide you into the bath, the warm water staining red but neither of you seems to mind as Alexei kneels beside you, scrubbing at your legs as he hums.

You watch him, taking in his hair and the way his blue eyes shimmer. "I'm sorry."

"Whatever for, Мой Милый (My darling)?"

You sniffle for the thousandth time, wetting the tips of your hair as you relax in the bath. The warm water soothes your cramps. "For making a mess. Waking you up." 

Alexei smiles and pushes some wet strands away from your eyes as he leans over, not caring that his nightshirt is a little damp now or that he's had to roll the sleeves up to his elbows, as he kisses your forehead. 

"In sickness and in health. I meant it. Until we die," Alexei whispers against your skin. "I'll take all the mess you throw at me, Красивый (beautiful)."

And he really does mean it.

tags: @siriuslycaptainofthedawntreader, @princesssunderworld, @longlivedelusion, @earth-elemental18

[lixies-favorite-cookie]

an ocean in a world full of puddles ◦ Chapter 1

-After being brushed off by Chan once again, you are stuck waiting in the lounge room for him to arrive. What are you going to do when it isn't Chan that arrives, but instead Felix? And it feels like you've known him for years."

words ◦ 5k

genre ◦ series, angst, fluff, the beginning of a wild ride

warnings ◦ chan is painted in sort of a negative light because he is always busy, felix is sort of shy around you at first, but lowkey flirty near the end as he starts to get more comfertable, theres a lot of fucks in this, i keep calling yall im dumb im sorry, fem!reader, felix calls her a lady once,

a/n ◦ The strikeouts are intentional to show how chaotic the reader's mind is and how she feels like her emotions are so invalid she has to just erase them away. I'm sorry if this isn't what you expected. I found myself struggling to describe certain aspects of this and was quite disappointed by the outcome (but please do not let this deter you. If anything, read it and let me know what you think/what I can change. Plus, I know the other parts are going to be way better than this).

also i listened to heather while writing this up until the phone number bit... then i listened to slow down by chase atlantic...do with that information as you will

A VERY VERY SPECAIL THANK YOU TO THESE BEAUTIFUL PEOPLE that helped me through the different struggles and stages in this fic I thank most of my unnecessary errors being fixed because of them @yongbun, @jeonginsleftcheek, @luvtak

masterlist ◦ a loved lived in between the stars and the sea

The human condition: a soul filled with passion, but not a mouth to spill it into.

It was ironic really. 

Your soul was filled with passion, but you had a mouth to spill it into.

That mouth just didn't want your passion- 

Your fervor-

Your ardor-

Romance practically coursed through your veins, your blood cells shaped like the hearts you saw the world through. 

Chan was filled with passion.

Chan was filled with ardor.

Chan was filled with romance.

But Chan didn't want poetry-

Chan spilled too much soul into songs. 

Songs that made him too busy for you.

The two of you saw the same goal, but spoke different languages- 

Your love was often- 

Lost in translation. 

You shout, frustration poking in the pit of your stomach painting the car red you dig the pencil into the words scratching them out so hard you cut holes in the page that sounded so stupid

all of this was so stupid

your feelings-

stupid

your issues-

stupid

the thought that Chan was anything other than perfect-

stupid

Why couldn't you just be content with everything you have? So many girls would pay to be in your place, tripping over each other just to be in his presence, and yet, what, you're unhappy because you spoke different languages? 

What the hell does that even mean?

You were trapped inside an inescapable box, the sharp edges of your unrealistic expectations like shackles that cut into your skin, bleeding with a passion only ever found in fiction. 

Why were you always stuck?

stuck in the stars, stuck in the sea-

stuck in this stupid line of stupid traffic, waiting for a stupid meal that Chan probably will be too busy to eat with you, writing some stupid piece of poetry that was about as poetic as the rotting innards of unidentified roadkill.

stupid

stupid

stupid

“Finally,” you mumble as the car in front of you inches up, allowing you access to the next window. You politely bow, grab the trays from the worker’s hand, and drive off.

Your life quickly turned from the hope of a story to the reality of a routine. The road, the walls, the button your finger grazes as the doors to the elevator slam shut, the number of steps it takes to get to his room, the feel of cold metal underneath your palm as you open the door, the same hunch of his shoulders, the same glow of his laptop, the same empty look in his eyes.

the same

the same

the same

Most of your relationship is spent looking at him like this.

"Hey channie," you say, setting the food down on the empty spot beside his keyboard.

"Hi, love." His voice is nothing more than the ghost of a mumble, blending with the click and shift of his mouse, moving different blurs and blobs of color on the screen. Chan tended to get tunnel vision when he was working, even if that meant you were left stranded in the shadows of his forgotten responsibilities. 

"I um brought you dinner." you clear your throat, pointing lamely at the boxes beside him like he couldn't clearly see they were there. He perks up, finally lifting his eyes to meet yours. 

"Oh baby, thank you." The tension in his shoulders melts. "I'm sorry, you know how busy I am sometimes; right now it feels like I'm drowning in work," he chuckles, absentmindedly shifting in his chair.

you're always busy

You push a smile through the tangled ball of suppressed emotions climbing up your throat.

"I know you're busy, but do you think I could eat dinner with you today...please?" Your stomach twists in painful knots. It was pathetic really, the way you begged for attention like a needy dog more than a doting girlfriend, but you were desperate, scrambling to fan a flickering flame that felt long sputtered out. 

stop

You knew what you were getting into when he asked you out—the stress, the anxiety, the workload, the long hours. Chan was always upfront and honest about the struggles of being an idols girlfriend, never wanting to veil your eyes from the harsh sting of realities rays.

then why does it still feel like your soul is burning?

He flicks his gaze to the screen, guilt gnawing at his core. There was so much to do in the day and just never enough time to do it. "I don't know, I don't really have a lot of time right now..." He mumbles, picking at the seam on his shorts apologetically, "Do you think you could wait about 20 minutes? I'm kind of on a roll here."

When your relationship was first blooming, your spirit would often shatter with those words, but pain only holds power when it isn't welcome, and as long as you are loved by him, you will accept the feeling with open arms. 

"I'm going to go sit in the lounge room then." You try to keep the disappointment out of your tone, but it leaks through the cracks echoing in your chest, radiating in palpable waves. You clench your jaw, picking up your tray of food.

does he not care?

"Okay," The squeak of his chair indifferently swiveling back to its previous place echoes in your ears. Louder than anything you've ever heard. 

he didn't even kiss you

1 hour 45 minutes and 13 seconds

That's how long you have been waiting in the lounge room for Chan to walk in the door.

that is how long you've been wallowing in a sad pathetic heap staring at your uneating supper

1 hour 45 minutes and 15 seconds now

16 seconds

17 seconds

You spin around when you hear the door creak open, anticipation fluttering in your stomach, only to plummet when you see Felix standing in the entrance, too busy shoveling a fork full of noodles in his mouth to notice your presence.

Felix was a familiar face, mostly associated with sweet smiles and bouncing eyes; you have only ever talked to him on a handful of occasions, possessing the basic relationship of hellos in the hallways and smiles when you enter the same room, but besides the couple times where he offered you some of his freshly baked brownies or told you which room Chan was in, you haven't actually had a conversation with the boy.

You groan, dramatically deflating in your seat.

Of course, it wasn't chan

Felix yelps, his heart leaping in his chest, only to wrap around his bones, doing trapeze tricks inside his ribs when he lays eyes on you—why, out of all the days he could have seen you, it was on the one day he was least ready, and the way your whole body slumps like a deflated balloon, it becomes crystal clear you weren't exactly jumping up and down to see him either.

Does Cupid have a vendetta against him or something?

"Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't know anybody was in here," he stutters awkwardly, running his fingers through his hair like he was trying to fix it without a mirror. Disappointment quickly brews into guilt watching the way his eyes shift, hurt drooping his shoulders down. 

"No, I'm sorry, it's not like that; I just thought—" You falter. What the hell did you think? Sorry, but I thought you were my boyfriend who left me here all by myself, and like usual, my stupid, hopeful heart really believed this time was going to be different. "You were someone different." You sink into the couch, a dull ache spiderwebbing through the chasms in your chest.

"Let me guess." His eyes crinkle with sympathy. "Chan."

You glance down at your ribs—some silly part of you really believed your shirt had blossomed with the crimson stain of your sorrows.

"How could you guess?" you mutter sarcastically, picking at the skin of your nails. Why did it seem like everybody else got the memo that if you were to search the thesaurus, your name would be the first word under forgotten?

"Well, really, it was a toss-up between you being with him for the past 5 years and the fact that he has been glued to his computer for the past 5 hours," he grins. "Pick your poison."

Your gaze drifts back to the couch that sits idly in front of you, lonely in the middle of the room, out of place, without the implant of another person's body.

"W-Well," he starts, shifting his bowl in his hands. "Do you... I don't know, want some company...maybe."

He's so awkward, so unsure, like a baby deer wobbling on unfamiliar legs, struggling to stay upright. You tilt your head, your lips pulling up into an adoring grin; you never really noticed it before, but he was sort of shy. You had a terrible tendency to take your time observing people unintentionally, causing discomfort to the victims of your restless brain—assessing in silence.

His ears burn when your eyes gloss over with an opaque glaze. His heart drops only for those silly little butterflies that always appear when you are around to swarm their wings around the lump growing in his throat.

Well, that was a bust.

Why couldn't he just be normal around you?

"O-Or not, that's fine too. I-I get it; you're probably l-like waiting for Chan or whatever. I-I can go get him if you would like." He jerks his thumb behind him, forgetting he was holding something for a second, stumbling to catch it right before it falls. You snicker, biting your lips to contain your laughter. His eyes flutter shut, scrunching his nose in embarrassment.

He was cute

Why haven't you talked to him before?

"No, please sit down," you lazily gesture to the couch in front of you. "It's not like Chan's going to be coming down anytime soon."

He sighs, his whole body melting with relief, practically forming into the couch when he shuffles over, adjusting himself to comfortably sit with his legs wide and his head tilted down. He picks up his fork just before whispering, "I'm sorry that he kept you waiting," and stuffing his face. You smile, the sight all sorts of endearing. The amount of food stuffed into his cheeks puffs them out, forcing his mouth into a pout that's smeared with red sauce. For a moment, you almost forget that you're supposed to be groveling, but why would life want to let you live when instead it could remind you constantly how much it sucks?

"I'm used to it." You learn to live with the absence of air when your hope always causes you to suffocate.

"You shouldn't have to be," he murmurs, his hand politely veiling his mouth while he chews. He's staring at his food like his noodles were an impossible labyrinth he's forced to escape, completely oblivious to the cataclysmic sentence he just uttered. Your jaw drops, stomach fluttering with butterflies, butterflies that you could’ve sworn burned out a long time ago. When most of your time is spent in a constant state of apocalypse, you forget the side effects of a romanticism, felt before your soul was littered with the echos of war.

"Oh?"

"Are you not going to eat?" He questions, forehead creased with concern as he gestures to the food that was currently burning a hole in the table. You stare at him stupidly, mouth ever so slightly agape. Did he not notice that there were swarms of zombified insects burrowing their way into your belly, kaleidoscopes charred wings creating panic in your pounding heart?

(cookie interruptions: I was today years old when I found out that a kaleidoscope was the technical term for a swarm of butterflies)

Why was he making you feel so jittery?

"Oh," you blink, giving an imperceptible shake of the head—a weak attempt to gather your disoriented thoughts.

Honestly, you had forgotten it was there.

"I was waiting to eat with Chan..." You mutter through the tufts of wool still stuffed in your head, wrapping your fingers around the tray, but when you pull open its flappy lid, your lips pull into a sneer glaring at the congealed sauce and cold noodles. You weren't surprised that your food had spoiled over the 2 hours you had been waiting, but it didn't make the frustration that bubbled in your gut any less apparent either. "But clearly, that hope was shortlived," you scoff, chucking the useless tray back on the table. 

Felix clears his throat, adjusting himself in his seat. He often found himself tiptoeing on the edge of insanity, always rewriting the words he wanted to say, terrified you had written a line in the sand the waves had washed away.

You were a star with a heart tied to the sea, where he would have more success breaking the bond of the moon than turning the tides of the ocean that suffocated your soul.

So for now, he will coast the cosmos alone, waiting for the day you will finally look his way.

"You can have some of mine... if you want," he whispers, shyly scooting his cup over to you. "It's salmon-flavored; it's really good."

"Are you sure?" you blink, utterly flummoxed.

"Yeah, of course!" You swore you could trace the stories of the sky in the gaps where his freckles glowed.

"Thank you; I promise I won't eat too much," you joke, pulling out your fork. "I don't mind it, really. I can always make more as long as you're eating I'm okay," he grins, sliding his hand out of the way to allow room for yours, grateful for his generosity; you bite back a smile, digging into the hot noodles; a spicy flavor pulled straight from the sea explodes on your tongue as soon as the food meets your lips.

You swear you just tasted heaven's gates.

"Holy shit, this is delicious," you moan, rolling your eyes back in your head.

"I'm glad you like it," he smirks. "It's my special recipe."

"So you do more than bake, huh?" you waggle your brows lightheartedly, though you were sort of impressed by his broad palette of skills. 

"You know that I bake!?" He was still recovering from the shock that you even knew his name—the way he often dissolves into the wall when you enter the room.

"Of course, I know that you bake; I always have to eat at least half of the plate of brownies Chan brings home." You giggle, picking at the noodles, wanting more but feeling guilty for hogging the whole bowl.

"Oh, I'm full," he stretches, rubbing his stomach like a stuffed cartoon character. 

"Are you lying?" Cynism was a side effect of being a creative romanticist—your artistic brain didn't limit itself to only forming one conclusion, while the stories that ended up on paper were solely portrayed as having happy endings—you knew this philosophy was neither sadistic nor realistic, for even if the fictional characters made up of the fluid of your mind betrayed each other, what would a human, evil in its rawest form, do to you?

well that was melodramatic

"You know you're a very skeptical person," he jests, pulling his lips ever so slightly up.

"I'm a hopeless romantic; there's a difference," you state, stuffing your face when you finish studying him down to the very twitch of his right calf muscle.

"Aren't hopeless romantics supposed to be happy-go-lucky all the time? Seeing the world through rose-colored glasses and stuff?"

"You know we are called hopeless for a reason," you snort, unrealistic standards were more of a curse than a blessing.

Scratch that, having unrealistic standards is just a curse

“Being a hopeless romantic is like being an ocean in a world full of puddles.” Your soul speaks like his fingertips have felt its walls a million times before “devastating.”

He stares at you gobsmacked, blinking like you just hit him over the head with a mallet. Your mind kicks into gear, anxious little butterflies flipping on the switch for damage control.

that must have sounded so self-centered

"I-I didn't mean, like, in a cocky way, I'm better than other people. I just meant it's impossible to pour my passion anywhere because everybody else doesn't have room to take it. If anything, I-Im the bad one in this scenario.” You stutter, sporadically shaking your hands, worried that the misconception is going to create a concrete opinion. He quickly waves you off, seeming anything but bothered. 

“An ocean in a world full of puddles that's pretty deep,” he implores, treating the words like age-old wine to be sipped with both time and deference. “You know you should really consider being a poet 'cause that like moved my soul.” Only Lee Felix can make humor sound so honest. 

Why was he so ...amazed

"I like to think I'm a poet." Your cheeks are painted red as you bashfully tilt your head down. 

but right now not so much

“You can't think you're a poet,” he chuckles. “If you ever wanted to read somebody your stuff, I would be happy to help…Maybe it could fix your uncertainty." Something twinkles in his eyes, something nervous yet desperate, something you couldn't quite pinpoint while your stomach was sprinting in circles—the mere thought of showing somebody else your poetry was the equivalent of slicing your heart in half and presenting it to the world on live television.

basically, something that will never happen never ever

"No, no, no, it's nothing like that. I don't really write poetry per se; I just write my..." You trail off.

What do you write?

"You don't have to talk about it if you don't want to," he reassures, his warm smile cooling the icy anxiety that crystallized around your core.

Why do you do this to yourself??

Stupid Felix and his stupid power to loosen your lips-

stupid. stupid. stupid.

To be a poet is to be vulnerable; no great art is ever created comfortably. 

Fuck it 

“I write my dreams,” you blurt, peeking out through your clenched eyelids to see if Felix caught the spit of a sentence; clearly, he did the way he lifts his brows thoughtfully. 

“Elaborate”

A man of many annoying questions you see 

“Why,” you groan, sinking into your seat almost comically. 

"Because I want to listen to you," he laughs like whiskey and wine, both husky and rich. You choke, your heart imploding into a million tiny, rose-shaped pieces.

"Nobody wants to listen to me ramble on about hopeless fantasies that will never come true," you sputter, still trying to reshape your rose-shaped shatters into something that resembles an organ. 

"I do."

Oh well, there they go again, forming right back into roses-

He made all of this seem like a complex game of chess, every move of hesitance quickly countered by a block of honesty.

From the moment you could write, you found out that paper was not volatile the way people were, how you could erase a word written but, in time, in life, you cannot erase a sentence said—that philosophy stuck with you, forever rendering you apprehensive to vocalize your feelings.

Maybe it was your soft spot for the stars that made you speak, but either way, when your mouth opened, it felt as though all your past doubts had washed away, and for once, you were free.

"I have always held onto my dreams through the tip of a pen, existing in between the lines of my poetry. But I don't write about deep philosophical pearls of wisdom; I write about love, passion, beauty. I write about coffee and cream, roses and vanilla. I write what I think romance tastes like, how the contrast of the most iconic confessions has been written in the rain, a usually gloomy, grey thing completely transformed through the lenses of love…" You sigh, tilting your head against the back of the cushion in bliss.

"I write the way I want to love, for I know it's the only way to quell my heart's aching urge to live anywhere but reality."

He stares at you eerily still, blinking once, twice, three times."

Why wasn't he saying anything?  

Perhaps you were drunk off Felix's promises, or the cracks Chan created in your chest made you bleed with a passion only ever reserved for your poetry. But either way, you felt naked—exposed under his exploring eyes.

"What?" You croak, picking at the sleeve of your shirt.

Why did everybody act like you were crazy?

Was there something wrong with you?

You are floating in the asteroid belt, a thousand tiny rocks hovering around your head.

"Maybe you're just not looking in the right places." There’s a deep intensity in his eyes, a million roaring waves crashing against each other; you run face-first into a meteor, bouncing around the surfaces of a weightless space.

How many brain-altering revelations could Felix bestow before your brain cracks?

"You know, I haven't even told my friends that," you deflect. It was a dangerous game, diving too deep into your thoughts, and right now, with him—with that statement, danger could quickly bleed into destruction.

"So, I'm not your friend?" Clearly, Felix catches on to the sudden swerve of the conversation, how he eases into it with such grace, jestingly poking your knee.

"This is the first time I've ever had a real conversation with you," you scoff, poking him right back. His jaw drops in faux offense.

"You know, I just gave you my food. I think that deserves an upgrade into friendship territory," he states matter-of-factly.

Two can play at that game-

"I don't have your number; usually friends have each other's number." You place your elbows on your knees. He has been playing a metaphorical game of chess with you this whole time, his pawns moving ever so slightly forward. He forced your hand, the comfortability in your eyes making openings on the board you never meant to create. His rook, his bishop, his queen—they kiss the place right below your king.

You had one more trick up your sleeve-

You were a creative romantic whose moves were nothing less than a story, and you were going to be damned if you let your king be captured.

Now, where's the happy ending in that?

(cookie interruptions… I dont know what this is nor why i am so dramatic but hey what can you do ALSO LISTEN TO SLOW DOWN BY CHASE ATLANTIC I BEGTH OF YOU )

He leans forward, pressing his tongue against his cheek. The fabric of his shirt stretches across the hard ridges of his abs—

No, stop it, bad y/n. 

"Do you want it?" He leans his head ever. So. Slightly. Forward  

"Maybe I do."

"Maybe I'll give it to you," soft, smooth voice- 

you narrow your eyes,

"What will Chan think?"

"It doesn't matter what Chan thinks-"

"Tell that to Chan-"

"Maybe I will." His lips-

"You know, if Chan saw us here right now, he would not be very happy." You suck your teeth.

Check-

He scoffs. Moves his bishop. 

You're right back where you started. 

"You're not his pet."

"Yeah, but I am his girlfriend." Block.

"Those two words are not synonymous," he says. Moves his queen.

Too many openings, too many moves, too many pieces on the board.

Too many outcomes.

Do you even still want to play?

Weren't you the one who started the game?

You bite your cheek, his eyes burning like molten amber, glinting in the overhead lights.

Should you have really asked for his number?

What would Chan think if he saw it in your phone?

Who were you kidding? He would actually have enough time to look at your phone.

"You know," he leans back, extending his arms to drape across the couch, pushing his thighs ever so slightly apart. Gone is the man with smiles like sugar; determination wisps across his face like spits of fire, overtaking every feature."If I give you my number, I'm going to have to help you unlearn your engraved cynicism." He's closing in on you, moving all his pawns in one fair swoop. You're surrounded, swarmed.

"You can't ungrave something it's scientifically impossible." You shift your king. One last dying breath-

Before- 

"I can try."

Checkmate

And like every person of honor does when they have nobly lost a battle they created- 

You run away. 

“I have to admit, as much as I loved this conversation, I really should be going,” you say, picking up your tray of forgotten food to chuck in the trash, leaving Felix's bowl on the table. He jumps up, scrambling to pick up his mess while you dart out the door, tossing the tray in the can just outside the room.

“Wait,” he gasps, stumbling to catch up with your speed. Your finger, out of habit, moves to press the button to the elevator doors—that is, before he catches it, his warm hand wraps around your wrist.

“Now, what gentleman would I be making a lady get her own door?” He bellows, voice deep and low, a sound echoing through his chest as the fabric of his shirt kisses your back. He’s so close, so close, so—

How long has it been since you've been touched? 

Heat. You're drenched in it, painted in it, enveloped in it.

His hand grazes your skin as he slides up your wrist, his finger extending to press the button.

Your breath hitches.

Body shutters. 

Every atom erupting in flames. 

The elevator doors slam open-

Your brain clicks back into place-

“Will I be seeing you again?” Your hot, so hot. He’s hot, so hot. Breath—it tickles your ear. Disoriented, so disoriented.

“I still don't have your number,” you manage to utter, slipping into the doors. His face will be the final thing you see as you descend down the shaft, lifelessly walking to your car where you will go home, go to sleep, and start your routine all over again. He smirks, flicking his eyes to your pants.

“Yes, you do.”

I do? 

The doors inch shut, and a small, teeny-tiny part of you wants to wrench them open, pull him in, force him into the stanzas of your story. You are tired—tired of waiting for your life to begin, tired of repeating the same vicious cycle.

But that wasn't you talking- 

That was the hopeless part of your personality,

The unrealistic-

The fiction- 

Life wasn't a game and reality wasn't a book. 

You had a good thing going wth Chris and you were going to be damned to ruin it just because of one fun conversation.

You reach one finger into the back pocket, feeling around for what Felix could have been talking about.

There's no way.

Your skin brushes across a smooth surface—something that definitely wasn’t there before.

There's no fucking way.

You pull it out.

It's pink and folded and definitely written on. You unfold it.

XXX-XXX-XXXX. Just in case you ever need an editor or a friend.

Oh well, fuck the game. He just flipped over the whole damn chessboard.

Read Chapter 2 here

[marlynnofmany]

Singing the Approach

“You’re coming on this delivery,” Zhee told me with a flick of his antennae. “We have to make noises as we walk up.”

“What kind of noises?” I asked, accepting the tablet he held out. 

“There’s a sound file.” He angled his head away, but with eyes that big, he was still looking at me. “I’m not going to try to copy it. That’s on you.”

I opened the briefing for our newest clients, which included a rundown on their species and a sound file for a standard greeting. Well, standard for an offworld courier delivering something they’d ordered. Apparently there were many types of greetings. I played the top one, and it sounded like whale song. 

I looked at Zhee. “Sure we can’t just play this really loud?”

Zhee angled his antennae into a no. “Captain says they’ll like us better if it’s an actual voice. Are your human voice-bits up to that?”

“Yeah, shouldn’t be too hard.” I cleared my throat and gave it a shot. It sounded like a childish imitation to me, but a subtle twitch of Zhee’s antennae suggested he was pretending not to be impressed. 

“Good enough,” he said. “I’m going because I’ll need to open the crates before they accept them.” He flexed a pincher arm, purple exoskeleton shining. “You get to do the talking.”

“They speak Doorway, right?” I asked, looking through the file. “If it’s one of the more obscure trade languages, we may want to bring Coals or Trrili along.”

“Yes, Doorway continues to open many doors,” Zhee said with an aggravated sigh (his favorite kind). He was probably grumpy that a language from his own species hadn’t taken off like this one had. But not every race was up to the intricacies of that many different hisses. And the Heatseekers had crafted Doorway with interplanetary communication in mind, a level of cooperation that would have surprised me coming from Mesmer society as a whole.

“I heard my name,” said a voice from hip height.

“Hey, Coals,” I said to our shortest and most patient crewmate. “I was just wondering if the delivery will need your translation skills, but it sounds like not.” I angled the tablet so he could see.

He gave it a look then nodded, scaly face as calm as ever. “Oh, those folks. I wonder if there was ever a consensus on whether their own name for themselves translates as ‘Ground-grabbers’ or ‘Ground-huggers.’ They do embrace each other with their grabbing arms, so last I heard, it was hard to say.”

The customer was listed on the tablet as a “Ground-grabber.” It was kind of a silly name to my way of thinking, but I’d heard worse. I said, “It probably won’t come up in conversation if we just stick to business.”

“Keep an eye out for the Tree-grabbers,” Coals said. “They live nearby but higher up. And the things barely count as trees, but it’s the best we could do.”

“Right,” I said. I wanted to ask more, but the intercom chimed with the “about to land” noise. We all took our positions: I followed Zhee to the cargo hold and Coals continued on to whatever he’d been doing.

While I waited for the ship to land, I entertained myself with the realization that the species names could also be translated as “landlubbers” and “treehuggers.”

The view when the door finally opened was of a blue-skied desert scrubland, with a town made of sturdy one-floor buildings constructed out of dusty red clay blocks.

Coals would have blended right in, I thought as I helped maneuver the hoversled down the ramp. That might have been a problem, actually. The briefing had been clear that the Ground-grabbers had poorer eyesight than average, which was why the polite thing to do was to herald your arrival.

Speaking of which… I cleared my throat again and sang my best whale song while Zhee and I towed the package toward the three large figures walking toward us. Not for the first time, I was very glad for the captain and the pilots watching from the cockpit, who would let us know if there was a problem. They’d already gotten permission to land, and talked with someone who was sending out the right people to meet us.

People who looked an awful lot like rhinos with a creepy set of extra arms reaching out from their backs — long-fingered like they were meant to be wings, but had gotten sidetracked on the evolutionary path.

Right. Ground-grabbers.

They sang more whale song back, then to my relief, greeted us in Doorway. The conversation went smoothly. I described everything that we were bringing them — exactly what they’d ordered, packaged at an offworld store — and Zhee easily cranked open the lids for inspection.

The exotic food that they’d ordered was extremely sour fruit with a smell that made my eyes water. I would have worried about looking unprofessional for a moment there, but I was pretty sure they didn’t notice the face I made before wiping my eyes.

After they did some sniffing, and some careful fondling with the grabber arms, they declared the items acceptable and had Zhee put the lids back on. While the Ground-grabber in front was signing the payment tablet, I caught motion from the corner of my eye. I turned to look and I heard something like whale song, just higher-pitched.

Oh, I thought. So these are the Tree-grabbers. They scampered across the dusty ground like long-limbed monkeys, pausing every so often to look around for danger, in the manner of prey animals everywhere. They had big eyes and mousy ears, plus tiny little horn nubbins on their noses. Their top set of arms looked much like the lower ones, probably very useful for climbing the giant cactus-things in the distance.

I had a theory about the evolution of these two species.

The landlubbers turned to greet the treehuggers in a moment of beautiful music, with both groups singing together. Then it devolved into conversation that I couldn’t follow, since they weren’t bothering with Doorway now. But soon they turned to address me.

The Ground-grabber still holding the tablet asked me in her deep voice, “How long would it take for you to bring this same amount for them?” The Tree-grabbers hopped in barely restrained excitement.

“Let me check with the captain,” I said, glancing at Zhee. I took out my phone and called back to the ship, stepping away while he finalized the payment for the first delivery.

Captain Sunlight had of course been watching from the cockpit, and already had an answer for me. I relayed it to the Tree-grabbers, who thought it sounded fantastic, and the captain said she’d be right out to negotiate.

The bravest Tree-grabber asked, “Can your airwing land closer to our home?” He pointed a long arm toward the cactuses, which I now realized had tiny figures climbing the many spikes and branches, along with dark spots that looked like doors. “There is a section of high ground. We can meet there. We’d never ask an offworlder to climb.”

Zhee hissed a laugh. “This one might like the chance.” He pointed an elbow at me.

“Well,” I said. “It might be a bit of a challenge with this many crates.”

The Tree-grabber wiggled his ears like a cartoon mouse. “Oh? Maybe afterward?”

“I mean…” I looked at Zhee. “I wouldn’t say no to a quick visit.” Zhee was quietly laughing at me, which wasn’t a surprise.

“Excellent!” the Tree-grabber said.

The Ground-grabbers moved to unload the sled. “Don’t let the Air-grabbers catch the scent of it,” said the lead one.

This was news. “Air-grabbers?” I asked.

The big rhino’s arms were busy with the crates (and Zhee’s help), but the little monkey-mouse pointed behind our ship. I hadn’t really looked in that direction yet, and I found a flat mountaintop back there holding what might have been another city. And the sides were speckled with possible windows.

“They live up high, but they’re always down here pestering everyone else,” said the monkey-mouse.

“Nobody likes an Air-grabber,” rumbled the rhino, balancing a crate on her back. “They never herald their approach, and they come from above!”

“So rude,” agreed the Tree-grabber. “They think any door that’s open is an invitation, just because they can fly right to it. They would probably make you deliver to the side of their cliffs. Those are much harder to climb than trees!”

Zhee gave me a look.

“Well. Especially with the crates.”

The monkey-mouse looked shocked. “Really? Your people climb things like that?”

Zhee answered before I could. “Humans climb anything they can, and a few things they can’t. Plus they wear ‘wing-suits’ sometimes that lets them glide on artificial wings.”

I asked him, “When did I tell you about wingsuits?”

He spread his mandibles in a grin. “I looked it up after you climbed on top of that other ship at the spaceport.”

“Hey, that wasn’t my idea; she needed help with maintenance up there.”

“And you didn’t see anyone else volunteering without an antigrav pack.”

“Oh!” said the Tree-grabber. “Do you have a source for those? Some of our elders could really use them.”

“Let’s ask the captain,” I said with a look toward the ship. Captain Sunlight and Paint were heading toward us, two lizardy figures with a recording of whale song, since their vocal cords weren’t quite up to human-level mimicry. “I’m pretty sure there was a store that sold them at the same spaceport as these fruits. And yes—” I said to Zhee, “It was run by humans.”

~~~

These are the ongoing backstory adventures of the main character from this book.

Shared early on Patreon! There’s even a free tier to get them on the same day as the rest of the world.

The sequel novel is in progress (and will include characters from these stories. I hadn’t thought all of them up when I wrote the first book, but they’re too much fun to leave out of the second).

[cosmicatta]

One Piece Novel: Law — a short analysis

So, after a long time trying to get my hands on the Law light novel, I was finally able to read it recently! And, because I'm an obnoxiously intense person who can't just be normal about things, I found myself taking notes about everything I judged interesting.

And I thought I could share! So here's a mostly improvised essay about the Law novel, how it portrays Law and what it reveals about him as a character.

Some notes before I start:

The edition I've read of this novel is the official Spanish translation by Planeta. When quoting and mentioning numbered pages, I'm referencing that edition.

I originally posted this on Twitter as a thread! If it sounds familiar, that might be why.

For those who haven't read the novel and might want to: be mindful of some trigger warnings, including gruesome medical descriptions, suicidal thoughts, mentions of abuse, and violence in general (I won't be touching on these subjects here though).

These are just my personal impressions, I'm not trying to tell anyone how they should interpret the novel or Law's character. I'm just doing this for fun!

The story takes place right after Cora dies, following young Law's journey as he makes it to Swallow Island and desperately tries to survive. There, he will meet Bepo, Penguin and Shachi, as well as Wolf, a novel-exclusive character that welcomes Law and the boys into his home as a family.

Overall, it's a very short read, agile and straightforward. The style is very juvenile, but that was to be expected, and I'd say it does a pretty good job at capturing the feeling of watching a One Piece episode. The novel does kinda feel like a mini arc.

I'm unsure if light novels can be considered 100% canon in general, but since the contents don't contradict anything from what we've already seen in the manga/anime, I'm going to assume we can at least take the events described in this one as canon.

But I'll leave the plot aside a little bit to focus more on Law's psyche, analyzing everything in the novel as material that helps us further understand him.

The entire book (save from a few specific passages) is written from Law's point of view and in first person, so it offers a more in-depth look at his way of thinking, motivations and ideals.

What I find most interesting in this sense is that the whole story is very centered around Law's kindness. Though he does admit several times that he had wanted to see the world burn when he was under Doflamingo's care (as we already know from the source material), the novel makes it very obvious that Law's true nature is compassionate. His inner voice even explicitly states that he enjoys helping and making others happy. (Quotes roughly translated from Spanish):

P. 27: "And I felt very comfortable collaborating with the task of helping others."

P. 92: "Knowing that I was going to free a person from their pain [...] gave me a joy I had never experienced before."

P. 136: "Just imagining the surprised faces of the Old Man, Bepo and the others brought a smile to my face" [when planning on getting fresh fish for dinner as a surprise].

And, despite living under Wolf's motto of "give to take," Law never expects anything in return for any of his good actions. In fact, he gets furious at Wolf himself when, after saving his life, the old man insists on giving Law anything he demands as compensation.

P. 120: "I didn't save you because I wanted a reward!" [...] They [Bepo, Shachi and Penguin] burst into tears of happiness when they realized that you had survived. That's more than enough for me! [...]" I won't let you belittle their tears!"

But even then, Law keeps arguing that he only saved Wolf "on a whim," much like he would say years later when asked why he chose to save Luffy's life. This is a common theme throughout the whole book (which is also pretty obvious in the manga)—Law doesn't recognize his own kindness.

It's not modesty or shyness, his inner monologue makes it very clear that he doesn't see himself as good-natured, and is often confused at his own motivations.

In their first meeting, when Bepo asks him why he is so nice to him, Law doesn't know what to answer; and after that, when Law finds himself wondering why he's trying so hard to save Shachi and Penguin despite their past history, he blames it all on "doctor's pride."

P. 48: "I wasn't even a good person."

Still, regardless of what Law might think of himself, living in Swallow Island seems to be making him progressively gentler. He was wary and hostile towards Wolf at first, but eventually lets himself trust people again, trying to honor Cora's memory and what he taught Law.

In Swallow Island he builds his new found family little by little, though never letting go of Cora and what he meant to Law.

P. 39: "Cora and I were family, that's what I felt at heart, I had no doubts. We had loved each other without saying it out loud [...] Would I feel the same for the Old Man and Bepo eventually?"

Slowly, he starts finding comfort and joy in community. He lets himself be carefree around his new friends, treating them with open affection, laughing and being surprisingly enthusiastic (although he quickly starts taking his role as a leader very seriously, and sometimes avoids showing weakness around them so as not to worry them.)

Law even gets to become an active part of life in Pleasure Town, where he and the other boys are cherished after 3 years living and working there. He's comfortable with his role in the community and appreciates the people in town. His sense of duty towards them shines especially when the pirates arrive to attack the town.

Again, this contrasts with how Law sees himself even in the manga/anime, where he insists that he acts mostly out of selfishness and only seeking his own benefit (or, in the best of cases "on a whim.")

But the truth is that Law's decisions are almost always related to other people's desires.

In this sense, the concept of guilt is also key to understand Law's motivations and his relationship with the world as a whole. This is especially obvious when it comes to Cora—Law even briefly wishes that they had never met, so that Cora would still be alive (p. 128-129.)

In a way, guilt is what moves Law forward, and what slowly starts transforming into a thirst for revenge, into rage and hatred towards Doflamingo and possibly towards himself too. It's a kind of tragic guilt born out of love.

His love for Cora still haunts him, his last wish for Law is the big enigma that he tries to solve during his 3 years in Swallow Island: be free. What is freedom to Law? How can he fulfill Cora's request? This is the question that gives meaning to the novel.

We know that Law wouldn't feel free until finally taking down Doflamingo and avenging Cora's death many years later, but he hasn't reached that point of determination in the novel yet. Maybe that's what gives the narration that hopeful and optimistic tone, with a young Law that's still finding himself, experiencing wonder in loving again, and learning what it means for him to be true to his values. It's the start of an adventure, and its core theme is love.

The ending illustrates this very well; I especially like the moment where Law names the crew as they're setting sail:

P. 243: "Cora's love that he showed me, Wolf's affection, the trust I had in my companions. One word embodied it all: Heart."

It is love that gives Law a reason to keep going. And I'm so glad that the novel doesn't shy away from this fact and isn't afraid of sounding "sappy" or "corny," because I do believe emotion is a very important part of Law's character.

The epilogue closes with a very interesting quote in the last page:

"You hear that, Cora? This is my... This is our pirate crew."

It is unclear if by "our" he is referring to himself and Cora, as if dedicating this new beginning to him, or if he means him and his crew. I'd personally like to think he means it both ways. But in any case, it's interesting that he openly shares the honor of "owning" his crew with someone else. He is the captain, but not the owner. It's another little way in which his generosity is evidenced.

Overall, it was a very enjoyable read, and it left me wanting more. Obviously, it's not a literature masterpiece, but it gives a lot of interesting material for character analysis, which is super fun.

Finally, here’s a few fun facts for those who can’t/don’t want to read the novel but enjoy the little trivia:

The Polar Tang was built and designed by Wolf.

Law’s first tattoo was "DEATH," and he got it at a local tattoo shop in Pleasure Town at around 15 years old.

Shachi and Penguin are childhood friends and likely met through their parents.

Shachi had always wanted to be a hair stylist.

Law is bad at cooking.

Both Shachi and Penguin are good at cooking, especially Penguin, who worked as a waiter in Pleasure Town.

The Hearts’ jolly roger was collectively designed by Law, Bepo, Shachi and Penguin days before leaving Swallow Island.

Law decided the name of their crew upon setting sail for the first time.

And I think that's all! ♥ I hope my rambling was enjoyable at least!

Edit: I've now posted an analysis of the Ace novels too!

[libraincarnate]

astrology notes: 18 (love quotes) 🦇‧₊⁺⭒

quick note: i'm absolutely not an astrologer and this post is just for fun. i understand that some of these quotes or excerpts may not be about love when you consider the full context of the poem or work of literature, but this is how i am intepreting and applying them without context. lastly, keep in mind that i'm not reading your birth chart and i know nothing about you. these are just quotes that remind me of the signs so you may or may not be able to relate to them. enjoy!

𓆩♡𓆪 aries:

“If we meet each other in Hell, it’s not Hell.”

— Geoffrey Hill, Broken Hierarchies: Poems 1952-2012

𓆩♡𓆪 taurus:

“The smell of her hair, the taste of her mouth, the feeling of her skin seemed to have got inside him, or into the air all round him. She had become a physical necessity...” 

           — George Orwell, 1984 ↟♡↟

𓆩♡𓆪 gemini:

“The next day I write him one of the most human notes he has ever received: no intellect, just words about his voice, his laughter, his hands.”

— Anaïs Nin, from Henry and June: From “A Journal of Love”: The Unexpurgated Diary of Anaïs Nin, 1931-1932

𓆩♡𓆪 cancer: 

“…Your chest is becoming the field I want to be buried in.” 

— Cristin O'Keefe Aptowicz, from The Year of No Mistakes: “Atlas”

𓆩♡𓆪 leo: 

“Attention is the beginning of devotion."  

           ― Mary Oliver, Upstream: Selected Essays 🦇

𓆩♡𓆪 virgo: 

Pylades: I’ll take care of you.

Orestes: It’s rotten work. 

Pylades: Not to me. Not if it’s you.

― Orestes by Euripides from An Oresteia, translated by Anne Carson

𓆩♡𓆪 libra:

“If there is life after the earth-life, will you come with me? Even then? Since were bound to be something, why not together.”

           ― Mary Oliver, from “West Wind” ↟♡↟

𓆩♡𓆪 scorpio:

“They had made love in every possible way, or so they believed, and they theorized about new ways but came up only with death.”

― Roberto Bolaño, from '2666', translated by Natasha Wimmer

𓆩♡𓆪 sagittarius:

"All roads lead to you even those I took to forget you."

           ― Mahmoud Darwish 🦇

𓆩♡𓆪 capricorn:

“She turned to me and said, ‘hold me’. So I dropped the world I had been holding and picked her up with both hands.”

           ― Zachry K Douglas ↟♡↟

𓆩♡𓆪 aquarius:

“I feel the distance between myself and others. I guard that distance … But when you move away from me, even just the least bit, a blackness descends upon me, I feel engulfed.”

— Henry Miller, "A Literate Passion: Letters of Anaïs Nin & Henry Miller 1932-1953"

𓆩♡𓆪 pisces:

“I asked if you heard the rain in your dream and half dreaming still you only said, I love you.”

           — Edwin Morgan, When You Go 🦇

this was just something cute and extra since I haven’t posted anything in a while. if you read this until the end i hope you enjoyed it & thank you so much for reading. ♥︎♥︎♥︎, those hearts are for you.

[kisakis-boyfriend]

Kinktober Day 6: Cockbulge

Pairings: Inui x male reader

Warnings: Male!reader, top/dom!reader, demon!reader, sub/bottom!Inui, sorcerer!Inui, size difference, teratophilia, overstimulation, mind-breaking, dacryphilia, blood from neck biting briefly

Prompt List by: sakuyaserenitykira 🧡

Author's Note: This ended up being very different from my original concept (and also way longer than intended) but I hope you enjoy what it turned out to be! :D Keep an eye out for this AU in a future kinktober installment 🤫

Inui was well aware of the dangers that this particular ritual held. Sure, any summoning ritual could go awry and become trouble quickly, but this spell was especially fickle. One tiny mistake or missed detail and he could summon something unwanted, possibly some eldritch creature that would destroy every known universe, but to him, the risks were worth it

He had spent so much time meticulously studying the circle that he'd need to draw, which materials you needed to place around said circle, offerings you were supposed to make, and even studying another language to learn how to pronounce the incantation correctly. Everything should be fine, it would all go perfectly and he would get what he wanted with no problems...

...He said to himself, sweating profusely as his arms carrying the backpack full of spellcasting materials trembled... Nevertheless, he marched onwards, deeper into the dark forest where you were supposed to carry out the ritual

Inui found the spot that he needed, a small clearing in the woods where the grass was noticeably softer and the breeze seemed calmer, where the only red flowers grew within the entire forest. This was where he began prepping for the ritual, casting the intricate circle with dried herbs, flowers, and crystals. Fixing several candles around the pattern and lighting them before stepping away to pull out his book of incantations, reading over the lines and practicing in his head. He waited about an hour, just as the instructions mentioned, before standing up and facing the circle. Taking a deep breath, he began the chant, repeating it three times as he walked around the summoning circle

He then put his book away and returned to the circle, stripping off his robes before laying down in the center, announcing his offering to the demon, “In return for your arrival and services, I have brought an offering of... myself. My flesh, my mind, and my soul are yours to do with as you please. Now, come forth!”

Tonight, Inui was uncharacteristically impatient. Normally he had no problems waiting for summoned creatures to appear, or waiting for spells to take effect. Tonight's spell, however, was very special. The being that he was desperately attempting to summon was a demon of lust, not an incubus or succubus, mind you. This was supposed to be leagues above those kinds of demons. And He was rumored to only appear before men that He found exceptionally attractive, which is what made this ritual difficult to find. Most of the sorcerers that committed to this summoning had no results, the demon refusing to come forth for anyone within the last 300 years, give or take...

Many people regarded this spell as nothing more than a hoax, claiming that it had probably become lost in translation somewhere and that was the reason it never worked. Some of the world's most handsome and skilled sorcerers attempted the summoning with no luck, so the magical realms deemed the spell to be fraudulent, because who wouldn't find these men attractive? That's what they all said, anyways. But Inui was tempted by the promises that this spell makes. Promises of "pleasure unlike anything this Earth could ever provide." And, "A love that no other could provide." These were loose translations of course, but Inui was tempted nonetheless. Hoping that if he was the one to finally summon the demon after all of these years, the other sorcerers would have to acknowledge his work, no longer able to poke fun at him or disregard his magic

He had other motivations for this summoning as well. The prospect of demon sex was very tempting...and since it was this demon's specialty, why not dedicate an entire year to studying the ancient books to bring this fantasy to life?

-

Inui's mind wandered as he awaited the creature's arrival. He closed his eyes, feeling the breeze glide through his hair and brush against his bare skin, his mind conjuring up scenes of what he imagined the demon would do to him. If it has claws, would it use those to scratch his delicate skin, drawing blood and licking it up with it's long tongue? If it has sharp teeth, surely it would sink them into Inui's tender flesh, marking him as it's human toy. And what about it's size, surely the demon would want to shove it's monster cock deep inside of him?

Inui began to squirm, his skin felt impossibly hot, as if he was on fire. His back arched as a single moan slipped out of him, rubbing his thighs together as his cock began hardening from the lewd thoughts. Suddenly, his hips burned, not in a painful way though, in a way that caused him to moan out once again

“My, aren't you an adorable little thing~ ” A low voice purred into Inui's ear, impossibly hot breath hitting his neck as a shiver crawled up his spine. His eyes snapped open to find a large creature hovering over his body, it's hands firmly gripping his hips and haunting yellow eyes boring into his, visibly glowing in the darkness of the forest

Inui wanted to say something, but the words died in the back of his throat, only able to gasp and pant as the demon loomed over his comparably small frame. “What's wrong, little one? Too stunned to speak?” A small noise escaped from Inui involuntarily, unable to process that this was actually happening. “Oh, darling, I hope you're not afraid of me now?”

Inui shook his head, not wanting the demon to leave him. “Good, good. ” It chuckled, brushing it's slender fingers against his cheek, trailing it's touch down the human's neck, smiling when Inui arched his back again, squeaking out some cute response and tilting his head up to expose his neck further

-

You slowly licked your lips, leaning down and grazing your sharp fangs against Inui's sensitive flesh, causing him to flinch and gasp. Gently kissing his neck, your hands traveling to his stomach and trailing your fingers downwards, stopping at the base of his dick. Inui whined in response, raising his hips up a bit to chase the addictive touch. Desperately wishing you would wrap those hands around his cock and–

“Already excited, are we?” Purring, you tapped his fully erect cock, eliciting a tiny noise from Inui. “Such a horny little thing, I haven't even touched it yet. Are you desperate for this kind of attention, sweet thing? Is that why you summoned me? ” You teased, baring your fangs and growling, just as hungry with lust as the sorcerer was. Depraved from worthy offerings for centuries now

“Take m-me...please...” Inui whispered. Spreading his thighs for you. You cocked an eyebrow at the request, the sorcerer's tone was meek, but you could sense the sincerity behind his words. Humming, you brushed a hand through Inui's hair, and he leaned into the touch, looking up at you through pretty blond lashes

“This is what you want, human? Once we start, I will not stop until you are marked with my seal. Are you certain that you can handle this? ”

Inui swallowed hard, taking a deep breath before his answer, “Yes. I want this, I want y-you...all of you. ” This greatly pleased you, a toothy smile spreading across your face as your slender tail swished from behind

“Very good~ Then let us begin, cutie~ ” You positioned yourself so that your face was hovering over Inui's cock, using your long, forked tongue to wet the member while your hands held the human's thighs apart. Inui moaned loudly when you swallowed his entire length at once, your mouth now flush with his pelvis. He instinctually grabbed your hair, tightening his fist as you bobbed your head up and down, sucking on the tip harshly. Teeth grazing against the bottom of his cock and causing Inui to keen, throwing his head back against the ground and letting out a high-pitched moan

Precum hit the back of your throat, coating your tongue and drawing out a moan when you tasted the familiar salty flavour. You couldn't help but moan around Inui's thick cock, the vibrations causing his dick to twitch inside of your mouth. Which only egged you on more, now bobbing your head faster, wrapping your long tongue around his shaft. Inui was losing his mind, vision blurry as it felt like he was getting a handjob and a blowjob at the same time

He cried out your name, his back arching impossibly high off of the ground, “G-gonna– Aaahhh—!!! ” Your eyes rolled to the back of your head as the sorcerer's load poured down your throat, greedily swallowing every last drop. You slowly let his cock slide out of your mouth, releasing it with a wet pop sound, tongue lolling out and a bit of cum sticking to it

Already spent, Inui panted heavily. But you were far from finished with this new toy, licking your lips and immediately sticking your tongue into the human's hole, eliciting a scream from him. “Oh– Oooohh fffuuuck~ ”

You continued to lick and slurp Inui's ass, working your tongue deeper inside of him and shoving it against his prostate, making him shout out broken moans. Sobbing as his ass was stretched just from that thick tongue

Retracting your tongue, you quickly replaced the wet muscle with two fingers, pumping them in and out of Inui's wet hole. His head felt fuzzy again as his ass was stretched further, it already felt as if he was at his limit, his arm draped over his eyes and chest heaving. You wrapped your other hand around Inui's dick, giving it a few pumps before rubbing over his slit with your thumb. The poor human hissed, biting his lip and clawing at your arms, his dick still sensitive from the previous orgasm

This did not deter you, however. If anything it only made you move faster and push your fingers in deeper, once again hitting Inui's prostate and leaving your fingers pressed against it. Ripping yet another orgasm out of him as your hand milked more cum from his cock, the thick fluid leaking all down your fingers

Inui slumped against the ground, almost hyperventilating from the overwhelming pleasure. With his strength rapidly leaving him, his hands fell onto the ground, releasing their grip on your large arms. You rubbed your hands over the expanse of Inui's chest, cooing sweet praises into your human's ear. “You're doing so well, sweetie. Releasing all of this lovely fluid just for me~” Inui could feel the rumbling in your chest as you spoke, voice low and gravelly. “But we're just getting started~ ”

Inui's eyes opened in bewilderment. He knew that this would require way more stamina than usual, human sex. What he did not expect was how every single touch from your clawed, calloused hands seemed to drain that stamina immediately and light every last nerve on fire at the same time. It was as if your touch injected him with lust, keeping him constantly horny enough to keep going even if he could no longer hold himself up

The familiar sound of clothing hitting the ground brought his attention back to you, having just removed your trousers. Which allowed your cock to spring free of it's constraints. Inui's mind appeared to go blank at the sight, drool falling from the corners of his mouth as he stared at your fully erect length. Most humans would say something along the lines of, “No way in hell is that thing going to fit!” But Inui Seishu was not most humans. Inui was, to put it crudely, a cockslut and a size king. Always craving the things that would stretch him open enough to shut off his mind, only able to moan and take inch after inch deeper into his body

These thoughts were not unknown to you, as every last kink and preference became known as soon as they laid down in the enchanted circle. Which is exactly why you chose him. Inui would be capable of taking everything that you could give him; he craved an experience such as this one, and you were more than happy to give it to him

As if your body had its own gravitational force, Inui inches closer towards it, beckoning you to slide into his tight hole. So you grabbed his waist, impossibly tiny within your grasp, and lined your demonic dick up with his ass. He gulped, glassy eyes trained on your cock as the tip disappeared inside of him, the stretch already burning in the most delicious way

“Shh, breathe for me, lovely. There's still so much more that needs to go in.” Those soothing words echoed in Inui's mind as another inch slid past that ring of muscles. His eyes rolling into the back of his head and mouth falling open in a silent moan. You soothed the human as best as you could, sliding in further and further until your dick had disappeared entirely. “Ooohh fuuucckk yeeesss~ ” You hissed, panting as his tight walls convulsed around your cock, his hips jerking upwards as cum painted his chest white

A devilish grin spread across your face, slowly thrusting into Inui's twitching body. He came just from feeling you bottom out inside of him. Such a good little pet for you.

A familiar tightening in your core caused you to speed up, chasing your first release of the night while your human was already on his third. Yet, you could sense the passion inside of him, he craved more. And more is exactly what you would give him. Slamming your hips against his roughly, you growled praises against Inui's neck, nipping him with your fangs and flooding his insides with searing hot cum

Still partially recovering from his earlier orgasm, Inui arched his back high off of the ground, wailing as you fucked him and filled him. His body going completely limp in your hands, breathing erratically and making the cutest fucked out noises

You took a second to catch your breath and revel in the sight before you. There was a large bulge in Inui's stomach where he was stretched around your cock, his insides pushed aside to make room for the impossibly large intrusion. His blond hair clung to his forehead, beads of sweat sliding down his skin from the intensity of it all. Your hand brushed some of the wet hair away, nails scratching against his scalp and pulling a soft whine from him

You couldn't stop the smile growing on your features, it'd been far too long since you had felt this way towards a human. Especially one that intentionally offered himself unto you like this one did. Hungry lips met Inui's soft ones, moving together harmoniously as your eyes fluttered closed, enjoying this moment before you gave him another orgasm

Inui moaned into the kiss when he felt your fingers brush against his nipples, playing with them so you could hear more pretty noises from your sweet human, humping into his wet hole as you did so. Inui gasped as your hips snapped into him harshly, pinching his nipples simultaneously. Your thrusts began to speed up again, causing him to throw his head back in total bliss, fucking him at just the right pace

The temptation to mark your cute pet up was far too strong, leaning down to press an open-mouthed kiss to his sensitive neck. Nibbling on the soft flesh as you fucked your previous load deep into his gut, thrusting faster and faster so that you could add more cum to the mess already within his walls, making the bulge in his stomach even larger. Inui whined loudly, tangling his hand in your hair and tugging at the roots, begging for you to cum in him again, “Please– Ah!! More...cum in me more... Fill me with your cock until I can't think of anything else– F-fuuck—!! ”

Cum flooded his insides once again, dick twitching as his gummy walls squeezed it all out of you, your hips surely hitting him hard enough to leave a bruise later on. Blood trickled down Inui's neck as your fangs pierced his delicate skin. Tears ran down his cheeks from the combined intensity of everything

Inui's dick became hard yet again, still glistening from his previous orgasms. “Sweet thing, will you cum with me this time? ” You cooed, wrapping a hand around his length. Slowly pumping it as you peered into his gorgeous green eyes. “Just give me one more, then you can rest. Can you do that, darling? ” Inui nodded languidly, his hips rolling into your fist on their own

You smiled at him in response, taking a deep breath before thrusting into him again. The reaction from him was immediate; his hips jerked forward, head turning to the side as a loud moan erupted from him, hands grasping at your wrist that was gliding up and down his member. But you continued on, cock reaching the deepest places inside of him, rearranging his guts completely as his body molded to your length

Inui clenched around your dick, his fourth climax just within reach, crying out your name while your thrusting became sloppy. One hand continued to jerk him off, twisting your wrist as you stroked upwards and eliciting high-pitched screams from him, while your other hand rubbed at the bulge in his stomach. Effectively jerking yourself off through his body, almost using him as a fleshlight

The way his mind just shut off was instantly noticeable. Inui's eyes became vacant, unable to look away from your lustful gaze. Little “Ah! Ah! Ah! ” noises escaping him with each rhythmic thrust, no longer capable of forming words as he becomes your dumb little doll. Arms and legs completely limp, the only thing really moving is his hips as they thrust into your hand, chasing yet another orgasm even though his mind is unresponsive to the overstimulation

“I really did fuck you stupid, didn't I, little one?” No response, unless you count the slightest change in the pitch of the human's moans as anything. “So good for me. Mm, cum with me now, let us complete this pact~ ”

With that, you fucked into Inui roughly, snapping your hips into his and vigorously pumping his cock. Biting your bottom lip as you grow closer to your release and finally cumming within Inui's tight ass as he squeezes you once more, his own release following only a second behind yours. His body twitched and writhed under your grasp as a glowing red seal was burned onto his stomach, the large mark spanning from just above his bellybutton to right above the base of his dick. The same mark as your summoning circle, a mark of ownership. Telling all manner of demons and other creatures that this one belongs to you

Caressing the newly etched seal, a wave of possessiveness washed over your features for a moment. Your darling human was fast asleep, exhaustion finally taking over after so much excitement. His soft features became illuminated by the moonlight and you couldn't help but smile fondly

You slowly and carefully pulled out of him, so as not to hurt him or rouse him from slumber. Soothing your hands over his body and kissing his pale cheek before lying down next to his side. You pulled him against your chest and spooned his small body, wrapping your tail around his leg. Placing a kiss on the top of his head, you whispered a few more praises and loving words into Inui's ear before drifting off with him

Tagging: @steadybreadbluebird @6kabuki

[mi-ni-me]

Here are my first batch of sketches! I apologize if the text is very light or sloppy looking, when I’m drawing I’m not thinking of anyone reading but me lol! Below are text and translations as well as context.

1 + 2.) Simply wanted to draw bara Paps in my style but with daisy dukes, no I’m not going to apologize. (1.) Bara Papyrus aka BEEFCAKE)(2. Hood instead of scarf)(3. Daisy dukes)

3.) Small doodle* Money being a little shit n getting caught stealing Mutts (sf!red paps) cash, I hc Money being very skilled at pickpocketing and being able to get into almost anyone’s pockets without noticing, until recent moments..

4.) Small doodle*anotha one. No im just playin lol but just two swapfell Sans’ minding their business not much to say on this page considering it’s so empty! I do wanna say I used a ref for Maroons jacket cause I couldn’t for the life of me remember how exactly leather looked on paper, references are truly a blessing.

5+6.) Finally! A warm up doodle of Sans that turned into a skelesona spread🌚. In truth I always told myself I would never make one of these because of cringe, but let’s be honest this is a self insert tumblr how much lower can I get😂. All jokes aside I made this in inspiration to @absurdmageart ‘s fic Making a Monster bc that fic is SO GOOD!!!! Probably some of my favorite interpretations of some of the skeletons! Especially the swapfells, I feel like they never get enough love 💔. Anyways,, I decided to keep her with a human soul even though she’s technically a skelesona, I kinda wanted to pay homage to the fic (even though I can’t really remember if Lisa had a human soul or not it’s besides the point). She was obviously very shook when the transformation first took hold, but after a few days you can see she’s adjusting fine(especially when she finds out limbs are detachable and pain free~)(1.First day, Skelesona lmao, “oh god”, “Y’all look what I can do lol”, “Y-you guys?!”) (a lot of the stuff on this spread is just rambles and such so most can go ignored)

[ramp-it-up]

ii Most Wanted Part 11: Till the Day I Die (2)

Bless the Broken Road

Pairing: Syverson x OFC Reader "Buttercup"

Summary: The wedding, along with the nerves, are here!

Word count: 3.5K

Warnings: 18+ Only, Minors DNI. RPF. S MUT, ANGST, FLUFF. Not much smut at all, sorry. 18 year olds heavy petting, teen hormones, talk of bad dreams, wedding day angst, thoughts of loss, lots of flufffff, 😊.

Sy and Buttercup get married! 👰🏾‍♀️🤵🏻‍♂️

Read at your own risk.  Not Beta’d. All errors my own.

A/N:  This is the 11th installment of II Most Wanted. These characters won't quit, so this series will be extended to at least 12 installments, but not for much longer than that. Here are the results from the wedding dress poll .

I'm in love with these two; they are bringing my writer heart back to life. If you like it, please reblog and comment.

I don't have a taglist. Please follow @rampitupandread and turn on notifications to learn when I post! 😘

I Do NOT Consent to my work being reposted, translated or presented on any other blog or site other than by myself.

Previous part here

May 2004

“We’re both grown ups now, Buttercup.”

Sy’s breath and smooth voice ghosted your ear as he mouthed at your neck and down your collarbone to the tops of your breasts that were threatening to come out of your bra. You shivered, causing him to pull back and check to see if you were cold because you had thrown off your t-shirt. When he saw your lust- dilated eyes, he was lost to your charms.

Sy could tell by your silence that you were in the same zone that he was in; you just couldn’t admit it.  He wondered if it was because you were trying to keep your purity, or that you wanted to give it away so badly that you couldn’t formulate words. He got impossibly harder at the thought of the latter. It was just a week after your birthday and two weeks to prom and Sy was back to begging.

He was so weak for you.

“You’re a good girl, I know it, Buttercup.”

You whimpered and kissed him hard, your lips sucking on his tongue while pulling him on top of you and between your jean-clad legs, making Sy realize that him calling you a good girl ignited something inside you. His heart pounded through his ribcage at your response.

When you parted, gasping for air, he moved again, bending his head to gently bite your nipple through your bra and continuing his assault on your mind as you ground on the bulge in his pants. Sy held your hips in his hands, slowing you down lest you cause him to make a mess in his pants.

The now familiar, alluring coil in your belly had been winding you up for a while and you were on the verge of risking it all to get some relief. You and Sy had been physical for weeks, but kissing and heavy petting was as far as it went. He would never allow you to go down on him, although you could tell he was holding back. 

His chivalry only made you want him more. But something was causing you to hesitate, despite the fact that Sy was delicious torture and temptation personified.

Tonight, however, he was begging. Artfully. And you were on the edge of giving him everything that he, and you, wanted.

“I have protection. We’ll be so careful, Buttercup. Nothing will happen. Except… except I’ll make you feel real good. I promise. Please.”

His hands moved up your torso, grasping your ribcage as he continued his rationale.

“You already know I’m gonna marry you, girl. It’s a done deal.”

You melted at his deep drawl in your ear, and his touch on your skin, but you chuckled at him, giving him pause.

“Sy…You couldn’t decide what you wanted for dinner. How do you know you want to spend the rest of your life with me? We’ve been together, what? Four months?”

Being the new girl sucked, but when your two new besties, Carla and Tiffani, ratted you out to Sy and gave him your number right after the homecoming dance when he broke up with Becca, you were mad. They had no right to tell your secret.

But you were pleasantly surprised and shocked as hell when he actually called you a week later. 

Everyone thought the pairing was odd; you were so different but shared the same heartbeat. You talked for hours about life, the universe, and everything, and you loved rolling through town in the passenger seat of Sy’s 1978 Ford Bronco with the loud muffler, making waves in the wind with your empty hand, your other hand on him. Sometimes you flipped off the haters that loved to talk shit, but mainly you just waved at those who stopped and stared.

You didn’t give a shit, and Sy didn’t either.

That’s why you loved him. People said you were too young, but yes. You were in love with Jake Syverson.

Even though you were lying In the bed of the Bronco with your shirt off, Sy stopped trying to get into your pants, shifted beside you and stared. Cerulean blue orbs held you captive.

“I knew what I wanted you the moment you walked into English class with that Powerpuff Girls shirt on and that scowl on your face. I knew you were mine. Trust me,  Buttercup. I know you feel it too. I’m yours. ‘Til the day I die.”

You shivered as you stared at him. You didn’t trust many people in your life, but if you trusted anyone, it would be Sy. You took a deep breath and searched his face for deception. It wasn’t there. He already had your soul; you were about to give him your body. 

Sy saw the moment you made your decision and was shook. This wasn’t going to be some simple fun in the back of Betty. This was forever. He considered you. The hot, innocent look of desire that made him rock hard also made him feel guilty. He knew what you’d been through and the last thing he wanted to do was to hurt you. Sy wanted this to be your decision, and you weren’t ready tonight before he sweet talked you. All of a sudden, it just didn’t seem right.  His hand came up and traced your cheek down to your lips.

“You’re so beautiful. I love you Buttercup.”

You flushed, and a warm sensation was building in your chest at his gentle whisper.

Is really this what true love felt like?

Before you could respond, Sy pulled you closer, and reached into the backseat for his letterman jacket to cover you from the chilly night air. 

He leaned down and kissed your forehead and nuzzled your hair as he held you close.

“Drivin’ me crazy, but I will wait forever for you, Buttercup.”

You melted into him when you realized that he was pumping the brakes. You soon noticed that he was still semi-hard beneath your thigh, which was thrown across his hips. You reached down to grasp him.

“Poor Sy…”

Sy caught your hand in his and interlaced his fingers with yours instead.

“Prom night?”

You nodded and bit your lip, looking up at him through your lashes. A low growl emitted from your boyfriend. 

“I must be really in love, ‘cause I just cock-blocked my damn self.”

You shook with laughter as Sy grumbled. He handed you your shirt back and took in what he could of your flesh as you covered up, licking his lips as he memorized you for when he was alone in his room later. 

You grinned at him.

“Maybe so, Captain Syverson.”

He smacked your bottom as you climbed back into the passenger seat. Sy loved it when you called him Captain.

He climbed out of the gate and stepped out into the chilly night to get back to the driver’s seat and took a deep breath, then shook his head as he looked up at the stars. Sy smiled at the thought of his grandmother’s ring.

Suddenly, a plan formed in his mind.

You and he would go to State, you with his ring, a promise, on your finger, and him with his heart on his sleeve. He’d propose with a rock the summer before senior year and marry you the week after college graduation, living happily ever after.

Sy grinned at the perfection of it all as he climbed back into the Bronco and gave you a kiss before he peeled off the Lookout.

—--

Sy woke up with a start the next morning. He looked around confused, not recognizing his surroundings as he tried to wake up fully. He hadn’t had a dream like it in months, since he was newly retired.

But this dream wasn’t about war; in this dream, he’d lost you again. 

He sat on the edge of the bed, regret about so much time was wasted swirling around him. Then he sighed and reached for his phone, finding a treasure trove of pictures of you and your friends. His heart rate calmed and his face cracked into a smile as he discovered that you had messaged him genuine joy. 

No use in mourning the past, Sy thought.

You’d stopped sending pictures around 11:56 pm, because it was your wedding day, you explained, and his heart exploded when he read that. 

You were still his girl, and he was gonna marry you.

He texted you good morning before he put down his phone and stared at the ceiling. 

It was his fucking wedding day.

Sy jumped out of bed and was on the road to Vegas by 6 am.

—-

The next afternoon after a 24 hour whirlwind of pure fun with your friends, you smiled up at the photographer as you carefully adjusted the lace garter around your leg.

You were in love with your dress, your shoes, and especially your hair. Tiffany had been right to encourage you to get a Vegas blowout. You felt like a model. The camera clicked away as you beamed into the lens.

“Beautiful, now let's get a shot with the bridesmaids.”

Carla and Tiffani gathered close and smiled. This intimate ceremony would be the perfect wedding for you and Sy. And that was all that mattered.

After the pictures, you got yourself from your suite to the limo just in time to make the booking at A Little White Wedding Chapel on the other end of the strip. You were serene, and happy that you didn’t need to stuff a monster gown into the car.

During the drive, you looked out of the window and remembered your mother, who had been alive at the time of your first wedding. You allowed yourself a moment of sadness.

Carla leaned over to you.

“We got your back if you want to run.”

You looked back at her and smiled. 

“It’s okay. Sy is who and what I want. I’m good. Really good.”

Tiffany spoke up. 

“Okay. Just remember, we’re always here for you.”

You became even more emotional.

“I know.” 

You smiled at both of them, near tears.

“But you better not make me ruin my makeup, bitches.”

You all laughed, the mood lightened.

—-

Jacob Syverson had been waiting for this day for a long, long time. 

He didn’t think it would come this soon. 

Or all this time later. 

Hell, there was a time that he never thought he’d see you again. 

He’d arrived at the chapel a little early, not wanting to wait to take you as his bride. As he got ready in the groom’s room, he eyed his blue checked sport coat and blue polka dot tie with matching pocket square that he had picked out. He knew that they brought out his eyes. He fiddled with his curls and smoothed down his beard, staring at himself in the mirror, almost in disbelief.

Was this really happening?.

From the moment he saw you when he was 17 years old, he’d wanted you to be his.

And now it was about to happen. 

Sy suddenly couldn’t breathe and he was weak, sweat popping out on his forehead. The tie was too tight. He loosened the tie and unbuttoned the top button of the shirt, hands seemingly a blur in the mirror. He shook his head to clear it, and looked back up into his own eyes long and hard, asking himself if he was really ready to be your husband.

He knew he wanted this, but today he was scared shitless.

—----

The doors of the chapel opened, and you stood around the corner, hidden from view as your friends preceded you down the aisle. You peeked around the corner to catch a glimpse of him at the end of the aisle, and saw a flash of blue at the altar.

There was Sy, so handsome in a blue sportcoat and polka dot pocket square, chuckling and shaking his head at something Carla did as she walked toward him, then he smiled wide at Tiffani. You straightened up when  his eyes found the closing doors, your heart pounded as you hid from his view.

Were you really going to do this?

—----

Sy’s throat went dry as he stared at the doors at the back of the chapel. His hands began to shake causing him to clasp them in front of him as he waited.

In a flash, the doors were open again and there you were a vision in satin and lace, but not a lot of it. The sun shone behind you and he nearly fainted as he admired the view through your dress.

You glowed like an angel.

You paused and the music began. He barely registered the familiar notes of the song because suddenly, his head was swimmy again. 

He took a deep breath and got himself together, staring at you wide eyed as you slowly moved toward him, with that smile on your face.

At that moment, there was only one woman in the world, and you were walking toward him.

—--

The doors of the chapel opened again and you had tunnel vision for Sy at the end of the aisle. Your heart leapt in your throat and you tried to swallow it down when all you could hear were the opening notes of the music you and Sy claimed as your song all those years ago. 

You didn’t realize how much more accurate the lyrics were twenty years later.

I set out on a narrow way many years ago

Hoping I would find true love along the broken road

But I got lost a time or two

Wiped my brow and kept pushing through

I couldn't see how every sign pointed straight to you

You smiled and paused, eyes having found Sy’s and locked in. You were trembling and took a deep breath before walking toward him. 

—---

It seemed that you moved toward him in slow motion, and Sy felt that he was in a dream, staring at you in disbelief. There you were, all long, flowy hair around your shoulders and that satin baby doll dress with lace trim adorning your curves perfectly. 

Sy gazed at you, taking you in from your cute white toenails in your high heeled sandals up those curvaceous legs and thighs to the short, flowy skirt that swished around the swell of your hips to the fitted waist. He licked his lips as he hallucinated seeing your nipples through the rushed satin bust of the bodice, and almost passed for the third time when one of the lace straps fell down your shoulder. 

The dress was everything, and he was gonna make love to you in it later on.

His eyes moved upwards, reading the name on the gold necklace that was his gift to you, and that was nestled on your chest. Sy looked back up at you smiling knowingly back at him, and suddenly, he was calm although there were tears streaming down his face.

That every long lost dream led me to where you are

Others who broke my heart, they were like Northern stars

Pointing me on my way into your loving arms

This much I know is true

That God blessed the broken road

That led me straight to you

—---

As you moved, speeding down the aisle it seemed, you realized that you were smiling through your own tears. Sy broke your heart once, but you both were idiot kids in love, and who knows if you would have made it that young anyway?

The way this happened was meant to be, this moment was perfect, and it was now.

—--

I think about the years I spent just passin' through

I'd like to have the time I lost and give it back to you

But you just smile and take my hand

You've been there, you understand

It's all part of a grander plan that is coming true

It seemed like it would take ten more years for you to reach him at the altar and Sy felt a pang of regret at the lost time. But then he remembered that you were walking towards him, right here, right now. You were choosing him. The past was over. It was time to make a new future.

—--

You floated down the aisle, and in no time you were standing beside Sy at the altar, no recognition of how you arrived in this instant bubble between you two. 

Sy stared at you, as if surprised to find you there, then smiled as you wiped his tears away with your fingers.

“Hi,” you whispered, smiling as Sy chuckled and took his pocket square out to dab at your face. 

“You look so handsome.”

Sy smiled, wanting to take you in his arms.

“Hey, Buttercup. You look gorgeous.”

You shivered as his eyes assessed you, your belly flipping as his gaze covered your entire form. You grew warm and wanted to kiss him, but he gave you a look and you decided to behave.

He held his hand out for yours, eyes sparkling.

The electricity that buzzed around you when you were near him was back, and you knew that you wanted this feeling forever. Sy’s patient gaze made you smile wider at how much he loved you. 

In that instant, you knew beyond a doubt.

You stared at him, taking in his face, the woodsy scent of his cologne, how huge he was in front of you. Then you sighed, nodded (to yourself really) and gave Sy your hand, which he held in his and caressed with his thumb. Shivers ran down your spine, yet you managed to stay upright.

—--

And now I'm just a-rollin' home

Into my lover's arms

This much I know is true

That God blessed the broken road

That led me straight to you

The officiant cleared their throat and you all looked their way.

“Have you come here freely and without reservation to give yourselves to each other in marriage today?"

Sy answered first, smiled, looked at you and said,  “Yes.”

You smiled back and without hesitation, said, “Yes.”

“Will you love and honor each other as man and wife for the rest of your lives?”

“Yes.”

“Yes.”

“Since it is your intention to enter into marriage, join your right hands, and declare your consent before these witnesses.”

Everyone laughed because you were already holding hands. 

You wrote your vows together, so you knew what was coming. But you weren’t ready. The tears started again.

Sy spoke, his voice never wavering.

“I take you Y/N Y/LN  to be my wife. I promise to be with you in good times and in bad, in sickness and in health, for better or for worse. I promise to take care of you and to share with you and be straight with you and to always shelter you with my love. I will always come after you and I will always help you to look up when you are feeling down. I will love you and honor you all the days of my life.

Until the day I die.”

Your eyes overflowed, but you remained strong.

“I, Y/N Y/LN, take you, Jacob Allen Syverson to be my husband. I promise to be with you in good times and in bad, in sickness and in health, for better or for worse. I promise to care for you and be straight with you and to share with you and to always shelter you with my love. I will not seek to run from you and I will always hold you down while you lift me up. And I will love you and honor you all the days of my life. Until the day I die.”

Sy grinned at you and your stomach flipped with excitement as Carla and Tiffani awwed.

The officiant continued.

“You have declared your consent before these witnesses. What has been joined together, let no man divide. May these rings be a symbol of your true faith in each other, and always remind you of your love.”

You turned to Carla for Sy’s ring, a simple gold band, and you slipped it on his finger. Sy turned to Tiffani and your eyebrow shot up as she reached into a pocket in her dress and handed him a black box. Out came his grandmother’s ring, only now there was another ring that was paired with it, beautifully heavy with diamonds.

Your mouth hinged open in shock.

Sy was grinning at your reaction as he slid the rings onto your finger, pretty pleased with himself you could tell.

“Told you I would marry you with a bigger ring than that. Told you that a long time ago.”

He looked up at you with those baby blues and winked at you as your knees got weak. You looked around at your friends who were obviously in on it.

“Don’t worry, they’re conflict-free.” 

Carla stage whispered and everyone laughed as you shook your head and held your hand up to the light before Sy captured it in his own again. He was feeling like the man at that moment, and you almost forgot there was anyone else in the room as you gazed up at him. Electricity zapped between you, and you were ready to take him down.

The officiant cleared their throat again.

“I now pronounce you husband and wife.” 

There was a pause as you both looked at them with anticipation. They smiled back, knowing what you wanted.

“You may now kiss your bride!”

Sy let out a whoop and pulled you in for a kiss, taking you into a dip and causing hoots, hollers, and cheers.

“May I now introduce Mr. Jacob and Mrs. Buttercup Syverson!”

You burst out into laughter as Sy led you back down the aisle, fingering the gold name necklace which said ‘Mrs. Buttercup.’

[geekgirles]

I'm actually quite proud of Armand right now. Openly admitting to Amalia the reason their relationship was always strained was because he'd always been jealous of her and her relationship with their father is such a great character moment for him.

One thing season 4 is definitely delivering is some much needed depth and exploration of the Sadida Royal family. And I find myself fascinated (not only because Amalia is my favourite character and I have a soft spot for her people).

Personally, Armand is a character I have a lot of trouble having a clear stance on. I don't hate him, and it's true his motives become clear and even understandable once you give them some thought, it's just that Ankama does a wonderful job at making him both outwardly dislikable given his abrasive personality and some of his most questionable actions.

For example, season 3 Armand and season 4 Armand are almost like night and day. Maybe it is indeed that his new role as king has forced him to be more responsible and emotionally mature, but the vibes between L'assamblée and Falling Down are completely different.

In season 3 he just oozed contempt for his sister, and his actions towards her reeked of ulterior motives. The fact that Aurora has been described as manipulative (even her hairstyle is meant to hint at her true nature) and was purposely placed in between the two siblings as a visual nod to how she's keeping them apart doesn't help matters.

Which is another factor to take into account: Aurora's character and the role she plays in the siblings' deteriorating bond.

Even if so far she seems to genuinely love Armand, I really can't bring myself to trust Aurora. Not only because of all the behind-the-scenes facts I already mentioned, but because her actions are just sketchy and clearly veered to the betterment of the Osamodas rather than the Sadida.

First of all, her contempt for Amalia is genuine and she legitimately seems to be planning to send her away to keep her from interfering with her plans. After all, this is literally what she had to say about her sister-in-law:

"Ne vous en faîtes pas mon prince, nous finirons bien par redresser cette mauvaise herbe."

Translation: "Don't worry, my prince, we'll get this weed straightened out in the end."

(I haven't watched the English dub, so my apologies if the translation doesn't match the official version).

There's also the fact that, despite being the new Sadida Queen, her intentions in season 3 clearly laid in the benefit of her own kingdom, the Osamodas. Such is reflected in her choice of suitors for Amalia:

She intended for Amalia to marry Ashdur, her own cousin, thus, strengthening the Osamodas' hold over Sadida politics. In fact, it becomes quite clear Aurora's choice in suitors, only supported by Amalia implying back then her sister-in-law had already tried the same thing with her brothers, was much less about the future of the Sadida Kingdom and more about the Osamodas' sake.

After all, while arranged marriages between royal families isn't anything new, usually the sensible and even most strategic thing to do is for rulers to"spread" their children and marry them into different families around the world. That is exactly what Ferdinand of Aragon and Isabela of Castile did with their own children, they married them off to the royal families of England, Portugal, and Austria.

With that in mind, having both Sheran Sharm children marry Osamodas royalty just seems dumb, doesn't it? It all comes to show Aurora is more concerned over solidifying her power over the Sadida Kingdom than its actual well-being.

Which is why I'm still going to keep my guard up regarding her character until the season ends. After all, we still have 9 more episodes where everything can go up in flames.

But going back to Armand, even though he is in love with his wife, his treatment of Amalia in L'assamblée is leagues better than it was in season 3. Unlike most of his appearances and his interactions with his sister, where he kept treating her like a child who didn't know any better (what she just so happened to accuse him of when presented with Ashtur, as a matter of fact), here not only does he finally open up to his sister about his insecurities and his reasoning for his behaviour towards her, but he offers her support in the wake of their father's passing and even invites her to attend the assembly with him.

He is entrusting her with responsibilities befitting a queen, not a child.

Their relationship is finally healing.

As I said earlier, despite the undeniable depth behind his character, it's difficult to really side with Armand in plenty of occasions. Not only because of his difficult personality and flaws, but because it is so much easier to sympathise with Amalia.

And I'm not talking exclusively about the fact that, as one of the main characters, we've been by her side throughout everything, witnessing her true selfless, responsible, and brave self, but the fact that her position within her own family certainly tugs at our heartstrings.

Amalia is the youngest sibling, the princess. For all the sheltering and privileges that can get her, it also became her gilded cage. And for the most part, not even her family was a safe haven.

Queen Sheran Sharm died when Amalia was probably still a kid, whereas Armand was most likely already a teenager. As King Oakheart revealed back when he explained to Amalia it had been Armand who insisted they let her go, the queen's death shook their entire family, making the king and prince unintentionally turn their backs on Amalia during a time she needed as much affection as possible. And so, her royal duties became stifling, her royal upbringing unbearable. Thus is the reason for her wanderlust.

And then we have Armand's reason for not always being fair to her: jealousy. He resented her for being Oakheart's favourite, despite constantly going off to adventures while he remained in the kingdom by his side. Now, as I said, this was a great character moment for Armand, one that also belies his character development. However, it doesn't change the fact that, while easier to relate and sympathise with him, we still sympathise with Amalia more or have been doing so for far longer because we knew the effect this had had on her.

We all have been someone's scapegoat to their frustrations with a third person, we have all been treated unfairly by someone who, for whatever reason, couldn't solve their own issues with the person they had problems with in the first place and took it out on us. This is the crux of Armand and Amalia's strained relationship: for years, Armand took his frustrations and insecurities out on Amalia instead of having an honest conversation with their father.

That's why it's easier to sympathise with Amalia, because we know that, deep down, for all her flaws, she was never at fault for how their relationship turned out. Because we can understand her frustration and pain when, even with their dying father, Armand still chose to listen to his wife over her and try to marry her off instead of being there for each other when they both needed most. As Amalia called him out for before leaving with Yugo, he still chose politics over family. Everything involving Armand and Aurora is about politics.

But now that they are at least beginning to rebuild their relationship, I sincerely hope things get better for them. Unless their original intentions back in 2017 have changed, I seriously fear Ankama will still use Aurora to complicate things further between these two.

Please, Ankama, I'm literally begging you. They're all the family they each have left, don't let their relationship be ruined forever.

[hryniewiecki]

Hi, this is how I made Jinx's chomper grenade, so (maybe) you could (hopefully) make one too (in case you'll ever want to)

With a lot of cardboard and some more paper!

I. GATHER REFERENCE PICTURES I used mostly fanmade 3D models and one or two screenshots from the actual show - that's why my chomper isn't exactly show accurate. I was trying not to go too hard on myself (for a change), so I didn't care about accuracy that much - do as you please.

For gathering refs I use Pinterest and Twitter accounts that share high quality screenshots (eg. this one).

II. PLAN OUT (the hardest part) Time to use refs to sketch the chomper - I started with a rough sketch to get familiar with the structure and all it's elements, to help me better understand how to build it. It was done keeping in mind estimated measurements I was going for (highly recommend using checkered paper), but keep in mind a 2D representation won't fully translate into 3D, so it wouldn't turn out the exact same.

When I was done with the rough sketch, I made a second, cleaner one (in pencil), this time to measure things more exact. Then constructed the "target board" you can see above it. It's representing all the "layers" - the cylinders that once stuck on top of each other would make the grenade - so I know how to space them out. It's basically a top view of the grenade without it's jaws.

III. MATERIALS, TOOLS and how I work with paper (important) List of the most important stuff: - different types of paper* - wood glue and/or any good paper glue - paper masking tape (or any that can be easily removed) - acrylic paints - compass (the one for drawing circles) - hobby knife / exacto knife / box cutter - hot glue gun (optional, but makes things easier) - air dry clay (optional)

*I used 4 types: - magazine paper (super thin, I used supermarket flyers) - cardboard packaging paper (from rice, cookies etc., rather thin but a lot more sturdy than regular paper, easily bendable) - super sturdy cardboard (still looks thin, but it's so hard it breaks easily when bend too hard) - corrugated cardboard (thick, but can be squished to be thinner; a pain to cut with scissors - recommend to use a knife)

Tips for working with paper: - scratch the shiny, printed side of the cardboard packaging to make it easier to glue (you can also try to gently peel it off, but it's not always possible) - another gluing tip: use masking tape or clippers to hold elements together before the glue starts to work, otherwise you may have to hold them in your hands and wait forever - if the paper is thin enough, curl it up to fit before gluing it onto a rounded surface (I mean something like this, except I just press it against a table and not my finger; it can be done with any tool really - scissors, ruler, pencil, edge of the table etc.) - the magazine paper can be used like a sculpting medium (bent, twisted, crumpled into balls etc.) to fill any empty spaces and even things out - I used it to make a "beveled edge" on two of the cylindrical parts, that's why they're covered in colorful stripes

IV. CONSTRUCTION (best part) Time to build some cylinders (how exciting!). I started with the tall middle one. Do I have to explain it? Just remember to add the details (the "bars", aka two layers of cardboard packaging paper spaced evenly) to it before you glue all the parts together.

For the thinner cylinders I simply glued circles of corrugated cardboard together, then covered the sides with a strip of cardboard packaging paper bent to shape. Depending on how tall the cylinder is, one can cut out two circles (top and bottom part), then sandwich (glue) some more scraps inbetween and cover the sides.

Now onto the two tricky parts: 1) Bottom I cut a ring out of the sturdiest cardboard I had and built an armature on top of it. It was then covered with magazine paper strips dipped in glue to create a half-sphere (basically paper mache). I filled it with even more crumpled paper to help hold the shape.

To make those funky "bolts" I scruffed each of those parts a bit a the bottom by cutting about 5 mm into them, so the paper would bend inwards allowing it to better fit the uneven surface. Then glued on the caps (this is when I run out of patience, filled the "bolts" with hot glue, placed random scraps on top of each one and then cut them into shape ..whatever works).

When you have everything assembled and it doesn't look the best, you can use more magazine paper to try to fill any gaps. Even better if you have air dry clay (that's what I used to even the half-sphere a bit). It's great for smoothing out the transition between parts if mistakes were made. If you want to make it super smooth you can use sanding paper.

2) Chompers (most important) I planned out the jaws on checkered paper, constructing the shape by following the lines or making diagonals, so it would be easy to replicate and make adjustments (super easy to measure).

It was then traced and cut out of cardboard packaging paper. I connected each part using masking tape to shape it into a jaw and check if it fits the grenade - after some adjustments were made I glued everything in place.

I wanted the jaws to be thick, so up to three additional layers of corrugated cardboard were cut out and glued on the inside of the initial "sculpt" - this allowed me to carve the eyes through the first layer.

V. PAINTING (suffering) general tips, because I'm not an expert - I used acrylics and started with painting everything black, then color and simple shading, then highlights (thin, bright lines on the edges), and paint splatters at the very end - the layering allowed me to later scratch some of the paint off to add more texture - follow your refs closely, you can even pic colors of off them (using a graphic software or any color picker online) to hint what to mix (eg. the jaws had a greenish/blue tint, so I mixed a bit of green paint with black and white)

- more on that note: just try not to use only black and white (that's what I did on my first try, when I forgot how painting works) - on the final version even the bottom part (which may seem plain black) has a drop of red or brown added; the highlights are not purely white either - it takes a lot of time and requires angelic patience (took me 2 days); take a break if you get too angry or frustrated

And I think that's it!

It's my first time trying to explain stuff and I wasn't sure how much detail to include, so if anything's unclear or missing I'll update the post. Feel free to ask and point out stuff, I'll be happy to help!

Good luck have fun

[writersdrug]

Ghost x Konig x Reader: I Don't Need You (Ch. 6)

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Summary: You (surprisingly) get more comfortable with Kortac, and slowly let yourself connect with the team. You subconsciously tether yourself to Konig, who is more than willing to help you fit in. The pain of the past begins to fade into the back of your mind like the end of a long chapter of your life.

Additionally, Konig starts asking the hard questions - it unearths a piece of you that you'd hoped would remain buried, but you still share the memories with Konig.

Chapter warnings: Mentions of violence, mentions of rape, cursing, google translate German, shirtless Soap, very EXTREMELY watered-down mentions of sexual themes (we ain't there yet, boiis)

Notes: Sorry it took so long, I've got a lot cooking in the kitchen now and I'm hoping to pump out a lot this week!

Additionally, I've had some comments on this work not being an x Reader. First off, I never want to mislead anyone. I label this as an x Reader because Bonnie is not an OC of mine. I've seen other x Reader fics include callsigns that refer to the reader, so I assumed using Bonnie similarly would be alright. I also mentioned a name ONCE in chapter 3, "Jane Morris," which I thought to be a very generic name, and I haven't used it since and don't plan to. I have a personal preference of writing longer, chapter-by-chapter fics in first POV because it feels more natural to me than second POV. The same goes for using y/n - I like to avoid it if I can because it feels unnatural.

Again, those last two thing are a personal preference. I'm not bashing any fics that use these things at all, I enjoy both ones that do and ones that don't, and I don't enjoy one over the other. When I say one feels more natural than the other, I mean it feels more natural to write, not to read. I'm debating changing the name I used in chapter 3 to just y/n l/n to make this a true x Reader. If you still feel like I should change this to an x OC please let me know and I'll be happy to adjust the tags, titles, and descriptions. Again, I never meant to be misleading, and I hope I didn't make anyone angry. If a mistake has been made I am happy to learn from it. Thanks!

Konig had cracked the code on me. He figured out that after a case of American beers and a long drive, away from the crowd of new faces, my outer shell began to soften.

There was still a wall that I was holding up between me and everyone else, even though it was significantly smaller than usual. When Roze and Castillo approached me at breakfast, I didn’t get up and leave. And when Juno used the empty spot in the gym room right next to me, dropping his bag on the floor and giving me a cautious glance as he set up for his routine - I didn’t grab my things and move to the other end of the room. That was my first instinct, but I fought it. Instead I huffed, facing the mirror in front of me and focusing on my sets.

I’d started going to the common area more often – maybe not every night, but often enough. We’d make it a habit to play poker on the nights I did show up. I was better than most of the group, since none of them were quite used to my mannerisms yet. However, Konig and Horangi still took the lead as the winners, despite most of us arguing that they shouldn’t be allowed to play if they were going to wear their masks. The argument would eventually turn into a casual conversation – I didn’t engage in it too often. I preferred to sit and listen, using the time to slowly learn more about the team. I typically planted myself between Roze and Konig, keeping my legs crossed on the seat and nervously fiddling with my Yuengling bottle.

Although I was ashamed to admit it, Konig had become a conduit for my interactions with the rest of the team. The way he engaged with their activities, yet still managed to stay reserved, struck a chord with me. I respected the fact that it could sometimes be difficult to find him on base, and that at the same time, he was always there when I started to feel overwhelmed. I didn’t need him, no… that was a stretch. But sometimes I felt grateful that he was so eager to accompany me places – especially when he invited me to go on “perimeter checks” with him, which mostly consisted of long drives off base.

I don’t know how I had grown to appreciate him so much – maybe it was because he felt similar to me, in the way that we both needed our alone time, and with how we often found ourselves slipping out of the common area around the same time, with the original excuse being that we were tired. Half of the time, we would sit in the mess hall and talk until the early hours of the morning.

“A sniper?” I asked on one particular night, fiddling with the mouth of my beer bottle. “You’re way to big for that – no offense.”

Konig chuckled. “And that’s what they initially told me.” He took a swig of his (nasty) German beer. “But, despite being handed other opportunities, I proved them wrong. I’m sill a damn good sniper.”

I huffed. “Nah, you should be happy you got promoted to Colonel; you’re lucky, you get to avoid being in the trenches – at least, as much as the rest of us.”

“Lucky? No…” Konig said, shaking his head. “I do not like being a Colonel. I’d much rather be doing the dirty work of soldiers than writing these stupid reports.” He slapped a large hand over the manilla folder that sat on the table next to his beer. “It keeps my head busy, and I don’t have to listen to myself think.”

I nodded while sipping my beer. “I completely get that – If I’m not actively doing something with my hands, my brain gets too loud. Like – like there’s a mini me in my head, and the only way to drown her out is by physically doing something. Anything, really.”

Konig laughed – almost a snort – “‘A mini you’. I like that, that’s good.”

I huffed a laugh through my nose, turning my head to hide the smirk on my face. Despite being a large, brutish man, he had a youthful essence about him. It was hidden deep beneath the thick exterior of a war-hardened soldier. But, every now and again, it rose to the surface, touching a part of my soul I hadn’t allowed to be seen in a long time.

I pushed my stack of bills into the middle of the table. “All in.” I said nonchalantly.

Gaz narrowed his eyes, leaning back in his chair and looking down his nose at me. “You’re bloody stupid…”

“Or really smart.” I retorted. I folded my arms over my chest, not wavering under his intimidating gaze.

It was unbearably hot in the room – whether that was from the tension of the game or the broken air conditioner (Price eternally insisted it would be fixed, “… by next week…”), I didn’t know. I was donned in my sweatpants and sports bra, Gaz was in a wife beater and sweats, Ghost was covered head to toe in a sweatshirt and jeans (one could ever rarely catch him wearing anything less), and Soap… well, Soap was Soap. Completely shirtless, with only a pair of gym shorts on. Typical for him to be so shameless.

Ghost looked at his cards, his jaw clearly tense underneath his mask. He wasn’t very good at hiding his unlucky hand – it was almost like he wasn’t even trying. Which was a possibility.

“Fucking hell… I fold.” He tossed his hand onto the table, revealing his sour bunch of cards. He walked to the fridge and cursed under his breath, rummaging through the contents.

“Jesus, you’re a load of dry shite.” Soap commented, leaning against the wall adjacent to Ghost. “You could’ve at least tried to intimidate ‘em.”

“You could try shutting your fucking mouth, alright?” Ghost snapped back. Soap raised his hands defensively, leaving Ghost by the fridge.

He flopped onto the couch near me and Gaz. “Miserable sap…”

I did my best to tune out their bickering. I stared down Gaz, tapping my fingers on the edges of my cards. I was relying on the river card – I had a chance at a four-of-a-kind, praying the last card on the table would be another seven.. It was risky, and Gaz was probably right in calling me stupid. But I was never one to back down from a challenge. I craved the thrill of it. Most of the time, I ended up getting lucky.

Gaz chewed his lip. He cocked an eyebrow, slowly pushing all of his cash to the middle of the table. “Call.” He said.

And I heard it – the telltale sign of his bluff. A fraction of a second where his voice had waivered, followed by him grinding his jaw. I knew I had it in the bag.

I was savoring the moment of triumph, watching Gaz stare at his cards, when I felt a hand on my back. I nearly spun around and yelled at whoever touched me, until I saw a gloved hand place a Yuengling bottle to my right, the lid already popped off. I faltered, staring at the bottle, feeling the hand on my back rubbing a thumb back and forth over my spine.

I glanced behind me, looking up to meet Ghost’s eyes. He was looking down at me with an empty gaze. His eyebrows twitched for a brief moment as he continued rubbing his thumb over the skin of my back.

I knew what he was suggesting. What he was asking. Put a woman on a compound with broken, touch-starved men, and eventually one of them will succumb to the temptation. Even so, I was shocked that it was Ghost. I would say he was showing a weakness here, no matter what he decided to call this – it was an admission that he needed something – something from me, specifically – which I never thought would happen.

He continued staring at me for another few moments, waiting for an answer. Keeping my eyes locked on him, I took the bottle and drank; my reply. He gave the tiniest nod, walking away and sitting down next to Soap – who was shuffling the remaining deck of cards, eyes narrowed at Gaz. He knew he was bluffing too.

I turned back to Gaz, smirking as he revealed the river card.

“You ever think about what you would say to those kids now?” I asked, tapping my beer bottle. “The ones who bullied you.”

Konig hummed. “Mm… not really. I don’t hold too much resentment.”

I chuckled. “If only we could all be a saint.”

“Well, it all happened so long ago.” Konig tried to justify himself. “We were only kids, bored and trying to stay on the surface. They just wanted to look tough so that no one would pick on them. Of course, I wouldn’t understand that as a kid. Maybe then, I would have admired what I’ve become, and I would have wanted to boast about it. But now that I am a Colonel – Ich habe besseres zu tun.”

I sarcastically rolled my eyes. “And that means?”

“Ehh…” he groaned, squinting his eyes. “How is it said… ‘I have bigger fishes to cook.’”

I sputtered, turning my head and laughing. Konig glared at me. “Gibt es ein Problem?” he asked, which I sort of understood. He sounded irritated, that much I could tell.

“No, Konig…” I said, standing up and giving him a pat on the shoulder as I walked by. “Just keep up the English lessons, ok?”

He scowled. “Verpiss dich… Start learning German and maybe I will.” He retorted, and I waved at him dismissively from behind my back.

I stuck my head into the fridge, grabbing a Yuengling and one of Konig’s beers. I walked back and placed them both next to him. Like instinct, he took each one and hooked their lid onto the edge of the table, then smacked the side of his hand down on the tops, sending the lid clattering to the ground. He opened my beer and handed it to me, then repeated the process with his, before reaching down and collecting the lids. He added them to the pile, totaling six beer lids so far.

If someone had shown me this image a year ago – Konig and I, sitting up late into the night, chatting like we’d known each other for decades… not to mention the fact that I was so unusually open with him… I would have been insulted. I would have laughed. No one would have been able to convince me that I would become so attached to anyone else after what had happened with the 141. Yet, all of this felt so natural. It was beyond how I felt that Konig and I were kindred spirits… it really did feel like I’d known him before. Maybe, he reminded me of a part of myself that I tried to bury away.

Or, maybe, I was just submitting to loneliness and trying to justify how quickly I clung to the first available soul. That was also an embarrassing possibility, one that I would rather not admit to.

“I have a question for you.” Konig’s voice and the clink of his beer bottle on the table brought me back to reality.

“I might have an answer.” I replied.

He looked off to the side, perhaps wondering whether or not he really wanted to ask the question. “Who did you kill? And why?”

Just like that, I felt the walls being built right back to where I had them. Bonding time’s over. Back to square one.

His inquiry caught me off guard. I froze, my bottle hovering in the air before I could take a sip, my eyes glued to the table. Just the mention of the incident brought the painful memories up to the surface, like claws scraping at the dirt, digging up the deepest roots.

“Lots of people.” I said, deflecting. I took a swig of my beer.

“You know what I mean.” He scoffed. “Why did you end up in military prison?” He leaned over the table – clearly not planning on letting the topic go.

I sucked my teeth, staring at him defiantly – moments ago, it was pleasant talking to him. Now, I was fighting back the urge to leave him at the table and go to my dorm. I felt ambushed at how he had changed the subject so abruptly. Like he had been waiting for me to carelessly stumble into the trap, and now he was watching me snarl from within it.

He leaned back with a sigh. “You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to. I just thought we were getting somewhere here.”

“Oh?” I said dryly, cocking an eyebrow. “’Getting somewhere?’ What’s that sup-“

“Hey, it’s ok.” He raised his hands defensively. “I get it. I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.” His words were forgiving, but his eyes said something else – I knew what he was thinking.

Weak.

I gave him a hateful stare. Fucker know how to play his cards.

“I killed a sergeant.” I admitted. “My lieutenant’s right-hand man.”

That got Konig’s attention. He leaned forward again, putting his bottle off to the side. “Why?” he asked again.

I inhaled deeply, then exhaled, as I leaned back in my chair. My eyes fell to the floor as I forced myself to recall the memories. “In Egypt, a while back. Don’t ask when because I won’t tell you.” I warned Konig, and he huffed – but obliged.

I continued. “We were going in to retrieve a hostile target. Everyone was jumpy – me included. It was dark, and we didn’t know what to expect. After the hostiles started to engage, we were scattered. I got stuck in one tower, so I went upstairs to try and make a foxhole.”

I paused. It was now my own hands, covered in dirt, clawing at the roots of the memory. Each word I said was painful, yet somehow felt overshared. Like I was trying to get Konig to pity me. Except I wasn’t – I just wanted him to listen.

And that’s exactly what he did. No comforting shoulder pat, no soothing words… he just listened. He knew that if he stepped on the wrong spot, it would break my openness, like a branch breaking under his foot would disturb the silence of the woods.

“The sergeant – ‘Flare’ – he was up there, too. I thought we’d had the same idea, but… holy fuck…” I ran a hand down my face, feeling my heartbeat grow faster. “At first, I didn’t know what he was doing, I just heard him making those sounds and I thought he’d been hit, but… he was taking advantage of this – this woman – and with her kids right fucking there… she was probably just trying to hide, to hide them, she had to be so fucking scared… he didn’t even stop when I found him, I don’t know if he even heard me screaming at him.”

I paused, almost waiting for Konig to say or do something, but he remained silent. Despite my eyes never leaving the floor, I could see his blue ones watching me carefully. Concerned, patient, and calm.

“I didn’t know what else to do.” I said, my voice faltering the slightest bit. “So I shot him. In the head.” I unintentionally shivered. “Probably traumatized that poor woman and her kids, but… quick decisions aren’t the best ones.”

I ended my rant with a heavy sip of my beer. Konig continued watching me with wary eyes, which I ignored. I didn’t need consolation, or sympathy, or whatever he might try to offer. Somehow, he seemed to understand that.

“I would have done the same thing.” He commented.

Would you?

After a moment, he exhaled. “I don’t understand… I’d say you were in the right. Why did they put you in prison for that?”

I chewed my lip. “There was… some speculation, that I was jealous of his position. We’d been close throughout my time with the team, and when he got the promotion to second-in-command, I was a bit envious at first. People thought I was taking my anger out on him in what seemed like the perfect opportunity to lie.” I took another sip. “But I was happy for him. He worked hard, and he deserved it. But then the pressure got to him – Lieutenant was always depending on him for too much, and Flare couldn’t handle the responsibility. If he slipped up, it was a lot worse than if one of the rest of us did. I guess… the pressure is what got him in the end. Made him crazy in the end. He didn’t have any morals anymore.”

More silence. It felt uncomfortably loud – Konig’s stare seemed to make my head ring, making me fidget and bounce my knee. I wanted to snap at him. What are you looking at? Why are you asking so many fucking questions? But I was able to keep my anger at bay, justifying the situation by assuming his questions were fueled by nothing more than curiosity.

I figured I had said enough for the night, and finished off the rest of my beer. I slapped my leg, the telltale sign that I was getting ready to turn in.

Konig ignored it, or seemed to not notice. “Why did you kill him?” he asked.

I narrowed my eyes in confusion. “Why did I? What do you mean?”

“Why kill him? Why not just… disable him for the moment, and let your commander deal with him later?”

I opened my mouth to speak, but my voice was a second too late. “Again… in the heat of the moment, you don’t make distinctions like that. You think: ‘shoot,’ or ‘don’t shoot.’ And shooting him was the choice I made.”

Konig’s gaze became scrutinous. He knew I was lying about something… he was hellbent on figuring out what.

He’s going to have to wait a long damn time.

“Goodnight, Konig.” I said flatly. I collected my bottles, getting up from the table. With a clang, I tossed them into the bin by the exit, walking down the hall and leaving Konig sitting alone in the mess hall. I feel tears stinging my eyes, but that’s all they did. It’s all just water under the bridge, y/n. Get it together. You’re alright.

-----

Taglist: @igotmajordaddyissues @princekonig @vixionix

[cirilla-fiona-riannon]

You've Got Some Nerve Trying to Buy Me

Translations may not always capture the exact nuances or tone of the original text. Expect grammatical errors and inaccuracies.

Not proofread.

(Spending an entire day with the winning bidder!?)

Merchant 1: "I see, an auction. That's fair."

Merchant 2: "This is getting quite interesting."

The merchants were all in agreement, and I was the only one panicking.

(W-What should I do!?)

Silvio: "But I don't want money. Bring me what I want the most right now."

Silvio: "Whoever can provide that will win the bid."

(This has turned into a big deal.)

About an hour after the party ended, I was sitting on my bed, holding my head.

The traveling merchants were given a place to stay at the villa, and tonight, I'll also be staying in the guest room.

(The auction is tomorrow night.)

(If I can't prepare what Silvio wants by then, I won't be able to spend his birthday with him.)

(But what does he want the most?)

Emma: "........"

(No use, I need to get some fresh air.)

I was about to leave the room but hesitated at the last moment.

(Yeah, I should at least put on my wig.)

I quietly walked down the hallway and heard a familiar jingling sound approaching from ahead.

(Is that...?)

Silvio: "Hm?"

Just as I thought, it was Silvio and Carlo walking down the hallway.

Silvio: "Where do you think you're going?"

Silvio: "You're not going to run away with your tail between your legs, are you?"

Emma: "No, I was just going to get some fresh air."

Silvio: "Is that so?"

Silvio: "Carlo, you go ahead. I have something to discuss with this female merchant."

Carlo: "Great! You're finally willing to have a proper conversation."

Carlo: "Even about the letters—"

Silvio: "You really want your research funding cut, huh?"

Carlo: "Sorry, sorry, never mind! Take your time!"

Carlo bowed repeatedly as he passed by, then hurried away like a rabbit.

(Letters?)

I was curious about what Carlo was about to say, but more than that, I was excited to see him for the first time in five days.

Emma: "I missed you. Are you okay? I heard you were busy."

Silvio: "Ha! You're talking like you're my fiancée. If you're going to make a move, you'll have to do better than that."

Emma: "What?"

Silvio: "What's with that face? You're a merchant, remember?"

(That's right. Right now, I'm not Emma. I'm just a merchant.)

(Emma is forbidden from approaching the villa, so I have to play the part properly.)

(But why is he trying to keep me away so much?)

(Sure, I'd be a distraction to the negotiations, but I feel there's more to it than just that.)

Silvio: "Looks like you still haven't prepared anything."

Silvio: "Talking big and failing to win me would be so damn funny."

Emma: "Don't worry. There's still time until tomorrow night."

Emma: "I’ll get what you want most and win your birthday."

Before I could finish my sentence, I found myself cornered against the wall.

Emma: "P-Prince Silvio?"

Leaning against the wall, Silvio cut off my escape route and slowly brought his face closer.

(H-He's so close!)

Maybe it was the fact that five days had passed since we saw each other, but my heart was pounding like crazy.

Emma: "T-There are important people here, you know? Are you sure this is okay?"

Silvio: "What, didn't you come here to seduce me?"

As if provoking me, his face drew even closer.

(That's how you want to play it, huh?)

Emma: "Take this!"

I hugged him tightly, and his face immediately turned red.

Silvio: "Don't cling to me, idiot! Let go!"

Emma: "Nuh-uh!"

Silvio: "Ha?"

Emma: "Just as you said, I'm seducing you. I won't let go until you tell me what you want."

Silvio: "This is the worst seduction attempt ever."

Emma: "But you're flustered, so it's working."

Though I tried to appear strong, the moment I felt his heartbeat and body heat, the loneliness I had been holding back overflowed like a dam.

(Of course, I want to know what he wants, but more than that, I just can't bear to let go of him after so long.)

(If I could, I'd stay like this with him forever.)

Silvio: "Geez, that's not the face of someone trying to seduce."

He pulled me away sharply and suddenly lifted my chin.

(Ah…)

As our faces drew closer,

Silvio: "........."

He turned away just before our lips could touch.

Silvio: "You'll never be able to get what I want."

Silvio: "The other merchants might have a slight chance, but for you, it's impossible."

Silvio: "At least, not as you are now."

("Not as I am now?")

Silvio: "Well, do your best."

Silvio: "If you can buy my precious time, that is."

He turned on his heel and walked away. For a brief moment, his profile seemed like he was going through something.

(That expression.)

(Could it be that what he wants is...)

The following night—

As Silvio had declared, the auction to win his birthday was underway.

Merchants and nobles from all over had gathered, filling the venue with an intense, almost oppressive heat of competition.

Amidst this, I participated in the auction as a "merchant," just as I had the day before.

With what he wants most in hand.

Silvio: "Alright, let's see what ya all brought."

Part 1 ╎ Part 2 ╎ Part 3 ╎ Part 4