#have to pull out an example so that I don’t sound insane

[daisyachain]

I’ve made this post before but I can’t be bothered to find it. In what we commonly consider a ‘traditional’/patriarchal European society, the paths in life are: marriage with children (acceptable), bachelorhood (frowned upon, locked out of certain professions/roles), spinsterhood in servitude to parents (probably suffering), religious servitude. An unmarried person is a servant either of the local lord, the Lord, or the parents. The parental relationship has a built-in hierarchy of the senior parents and the underling child. All pressures push down and toward marriage as a form of (highly limited for women) freedom.

One of the few ways around this system is the sibling relationship. Sticking with a sibling can provide an avenue to independence from hierarchy via a peer relationship, a person who moves in with a married sibling is protected under the auspices of that marriage (though somewhat dependent on the sibling) and is not automatically subordinate as with aristocracy/religious orders/parents. I’m interested in the sibling relationship as a kind of lifeline or shield against the buffets of social expectation specially in a world where there is some kind of censure against unmarriage and in which marriage is seen as the final step in growing up. Siblings are the playmates of childhood, they are biological family, to remain part of s biological family unit is acceptable, to remain unmarried is not, the sibling is the last line of defense against a spouse without submitting to hierarchy and/or could be read as the last line of defense against growing up.

This isn’t coherent. I like the idea of two siblings choosing to remain close into adulthood not because they necessarily like each other that much, but because they understand the consequences of abandoning someone to social forces. Siblings as a kind of delayed maturation, a sign that something is wrong, a failed evolution, a vestigial relationship, you’re supposed to be close growing up and then split into different clans, but they have failed to do so and have closed the loop to return to childhood.

[borom1r]

watching an RN debate TERFs is always a wild fucking experience

[talktonytome]

Buck’s nervously bouncing his leg on the barstool, hands a little sweaty, as he waits for Hen and Karen to show up. They had invited him to a gay western club, after he came out and he’s excited to finally be here. He’s craning his neck to see if he catches a glimpse of them, when a beast of a man walks up to him.

Wow, Buck knows he’s a big guy himself but this dude is even bigger than him. He’s got insanely broad shoulders, big arms, thick thighs and an ass that had to be sculpted by the gods-

Suddenly, the man is clearing his throat to get his attention. “Excuse me, but I think you took my chair,” he says matter-of-factly, like Buck should have known. And it’s maybe a little infuriating because who does this guy think he is?

“Oh I’m sorry, I must have missed your name on it,” Buck retorts, eyes narrowed at the stranger. The chair was open when he got there and really, it’s a little childish to be calling dibs.

Hot jerk holds his hands up placatingly, attempting to deescalate the situation. “Sorry, sorry”, he says genuinely enough. There’s something about his eyes that comforts Buck. “It’s just, I only ran out to take what I thought was a work call, and I was hoping my spot would still be free. It’s been a long week,” he sighs.

Buck can understand that. It’d been a long week of hectic calls for the 118 and he’s been looking forward to tonight. “Hey, uh, I get it. It’s been a week for me too,” he offers a rueful smile. “I’m meeting some friends so I’ll give you your chair back soon, don’t worry.” If he didn’t know any better, he could swear the man’s face falls a little.

As if by stroke of luck, the stool next to his opens up and hot guy immediately sits down. “It’s my fault really, I know this place is packed Friday nights. It’s worth it for the live bands, though,” he says. “I’m Tommy, by the way. Fighting the great chair war merits name privileges, right?” He winks.

Buck blushes, suddenly feeling a little breathless. “Oh definitely,” he manages not to stutter. “I’m Bu- um- Evan Buckley.” Wow he almost had it.

“Evan,” Tommy tries out and it sounds like the name was made to be uttered by him and him only. Buck gulps.

“Well, since we’re both here, how about I buy you a drink? I owe you that much for being rude earlier.”

Buck can’t help but smile. “Sure, why not?” He nods, “my friends aren’t here yet, anyway.”

“Great,” Tommy grins. “Craft beer okay? Or I can get you something else?”

“Beer’s fine, I’m not picky,” Buck shrugs.

“I am, at least when it comes to beer,” Tommy chuckles, signaling the bartender for two beers.

“Why doesn’t that surprise me?” Buck teases. Why does this feel so easy?

“Hmm, I think there’s a lot about me that’ll surprise you,” Tommy smirks.

Buck may be inexperienced with the same sex, but he damn well knows how to flirt. He tilts his head a little, knows his eyes are twinkling. “Is that right?”

“Oh absolutely,” Tommy declares. He’s so confident in a way that radiates coolness. “For example, I’m a pretty great dancer.”

Buck thinks back to the times he’s tried to dance and winces. “I’m definitely not.”

“I could teach you,” Tommy says as Buck finishes his sentence.

“Really? Is that gonna be right after our beers?”

“I mean I don’t think we can drink and dance at the same time,” Tommy laughs, “at least not effectively.

“Yeah okay, teach me, Tommy.” Buck says dropping his voice, looking right into his eyes.

Tommy’s eyes grow wide and Buck immediately notices the blush on those gorgeous cheekbones. He preens a little because he did that.

“Ok,” Tommy swallows, holding out his hand. “Let’s do it.”

“What about our beers?”

“I’ll buy you another one.”

Buck laughs incredulously, but gives Tommy his hand and lets him lead them onto the dance floor. The band’s playing something sweet and slow, for lovers. Tommy uses the grip on his hand to pull them close together, until they’re chest to chest. He guides both of Buck’s arms around his neck and he circles Buck’s waist with those big hands, finally turning them into a gentle sway.

You got me out there, honey

We danced until I let go

Never been lost in a moment

But there's hours I can't recall

Buck looks down at his feet trying desperately not to mangle Tommy’s. He feels two fingers under his chin, as Tommy tilts his face up. “Eyes on me,” he says softly. “I got you.” Buck obeys and gets lost in Tommy’s eyes- gosh they’re so blue-as they sway and spin so smoothly he forgets about his feet altogether.

Maybe tonight

You'll let me run

Into your arms

And we'll conquer the heart

Tommy’s guiding them into another spin, when Buck can’t hold back from wanting to kiss him any longer. If Tommy’s eyes constantly flicking down to Buck’s lips are anything to go by, he’s on the same page. Buck tests the waters by leaning in, enough that Tommy’s breath ghosts across his lips.

You came in like a fire

Burned all I ever knew

I've been weighed and found wanting

And all that I want is you

Tommy gently grips his chin again, one big thumb slots right in the middle, and brings him in for the gentlest, most tender kiss Buck’s ever gotten. Tommy’s lips are warm and soft as they slide against his. It’s not long, by any means, but when they part, it leaves him breathless, all the same.

Tommy rests their foreheads together. “Was that okay?” He whispers, a little awestruck.

“More than,” Buck grins, playing with the hair on the nape of Tommy’s neck.

“Good,” Tommy replies, pressing a kiss to Buck’s bicep. “I do have a confession to make.”

Tommy tangles their hands and pulls Buck away from the dance floor. The song is over by now, so they make their way to the edge, where they can lean against a railing.

Bucks stomach drops. Did he get it wrong? Was Tommy not interested? Was he about to let him down gently?

“Hey, hey, look at me,” Tommy cuts into his spiraling. “Whatever you’re thinking, don’t.”

“I’m a little embarrassed to say it now,” Tommy breathes, “but.. that wasn’t my chair.”

Buck finally lets out a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding. “Huh?”

“Erm, where you were sitting? It wasn’t actually my chair. I just… I saw the most beautiful man I’d ever seen all alone and I knew I had to talk to him,” Tommy rushes out. “Upon reflection, my approach could have been better,” he mutters.

Bucks laughs, but makes sure to squeeze Tommy’s hand in reassurance. “It was… not good,” he laughs again.

“Come on, hey!” Tommy exclaims in mock offense.

“But- you did it anyway. You came up to me all cocky and hot, not knowing the outcome, and it worked out so,” Buck shrugs.

“You think I’m hot?” Tommy smirks, playfully bumping his shoulder.

“Oh like you don’t know?”

“Did I mention you’re the most beautiful man I’ve ever seen?” Tommy looks at him in a way that’s too fond for having just met.

“Maybe, but doesn’t hurt to hear again,” Buck grins. “Thanks for the dance, by the way,” he adds shyly. “It was pretty great.”

“I had the best partner,” Tommy says.

They look at each other for several beats.

“So, you wanna get out of here?” Tommy jerks his head toward the exit.

Buck doesn’t know if he’s ready for what that sentence entails, but he really likes Tommy.

Just like before, Tommy notices his apprehension; he’s so goddamn considerate like that, apparently. “Not like that,” he clarifies. “I’m having such a great time with you and I’m not ready for the night to end. I know this place with the best tacos,” he gives Buck his best puppy eyes.

Buck breathes a sigh of relief. He’s not ready to part ways either. “You had me at tacos! Lead the way.”

Tommy wraps an arm around his waist as they start walking toward the exit, when Buck remembers, “oh wait, my friends!”

“You sure they’re coming?” Tommy raises a doubtful eyebrow.

“I dunno, they said they would. Let me-“ Buck pulls out his phone and opens his messages. Sure enough there’s a couple from Hen.

Sorry buckaroo, Denny has a stomach bug and we’re pretty sure we all have it now :(

We’ll make it up to you, we swear!

Buck can’t feel too disappointed, when he got Tommy out of it. He texts back a quick ok feel better! and slides his phone back into his pocket, then reaches out to take Tommy’s hand again.

“Their kid has a bug and infected them so they are, in fact, not coming,” he explains.

“Kids and their germs,” Tommy laughs. “So you’re free to go?”

“Yes, I- I am free.”

- inspired by the chair (george strait) and conquer the heart (orville peck)

[bloodiedrogue]

MY LOVE IS MINE, ALL MINE (15)

SUMMARY: Astarion insists that you rest.

PAIRING: Astarion & Female Reader

WORD COUNT: 2,987

WARNINGS: Brief mentions of death and dissociation, a whole lot of fluff and comfort as an apology for all the angsty chapters. :^)

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Ha-ha, hey do people still care about this fic? (Sorry I went MIA, my brain got bad)

CHAPTER LIST / MASTERLIST

-

It feels odd having Astarion around.

For days, his hands are almost always attached to you in some way. Gripping tightly onto your arm as he guides you out of the bed, drawing patterns into your back each night he quietly lays next to you —anything to make you feel like he’s some sort of extension of you. As if he’s another set of limbs there to help you heal. 

It’s nice, at first. Comforting. And for a while, as you exhaustively lay amongst the sheets and pillows, tucked against the side of his torso, it helps you forget about the world around you. How just beyond this realm of soft looks and tender touches, there’s a war raging on, developing day by day as you tirelessly drift from bed to bath and back again, trying your best not to get too restless.

Which is easier some days than others. 

For example, the first few felt like a breeze. Nothing more than a collection of hours that quickly whizzed by before you could even blink. With Astarion there to distract you, time seemed to slip from your grasp entirely. Exiting your mind in the form of lengthy naps spent latched onto your partner’s frame. 

It was blissful. A much needed break from all the chaos but it was obvious it wouldn’t last. Nothing more than a blip in an otherwise more momentous event, you could feel the restlessness of the future seeping in. Taking hold of your mind, ripping through the cavernous well of missing information that occurred during your death. You couldn’t help but wonder what had happened. How the group managed without you —how Astarion managed.

Based on the lack of space given during the healing process, you assume badly. Considering he’s never touched you like this —like you’re the most fragile thing he’s ever placed his hands on as if at any moment one wrongful slip of his fingers might shatter you all over again— it’s apparent something within him changed. Shifting in a way that, even now, nearly a week later his presence is still stagnant.  

And for the most part, it is nice. A welcomed change amongst all the bullshit. Having him there with you —seeing the lengths he’s willing to go to make sure that you’re safe is unparalleled to anything you’ve ever felt. A dream within a plague of nightmares lulling you to sleep each night he holds you close, telling you that everything’s fine. At least, until it isn’t. Then it feels like suffocation. Like his once-loving hands are now wrapped around your throat, reminding you of what little time you have left. Forcing you to realize that, instead of lying around living in ignorance of the task at hand, you should be helping —working alongside the rest of the party to complete your common goal. 

“I need to move, Astarion,” you tell him. Almost angrily, you press your hands to either side of his face, narrowing your eyes, watching the way he rolls his own and frowns.

“Zamrie said—“

“Oh, my Gods, forget what Zamrie said!” Before he can even protest you’re on your feet and moving towards the door, ignoring the way he huffs in response. Blocking out the sounds of his angered protests as you begin to pull on your boots. “I swear, if I don’t get out of this room I’m going to go insane!”

Surprisingly, he doesn’t do anything other than try to talk you out of it. Relaying each point of criticism with facts to back up his claims, watching the way your face twists in annoyance the longer you realize he’s right. 

Because despite mentally feeling alright aside from the lack of stimulus, you’re still exhausted. A feeling you hadn’t anticipated to take so long to recover from. Assuming you were under the hindrance of any other common illness, you figured you’d be back to normal in a few days tops. No longer feeling numb or shaky. But then again, you were dead. And for a while too, so unfortunately it makes sense as to why as you finish tying your first boot you’re already out of breath. Heavily panting against the warm air of the inn’s top floor as you glance to see Astarion’s smug look. 

“You know I’m right,” he says, and all you do is awkwardly walk back to the bed with your boot still on, collapsing face-first into the mattress with a groan. 

“I’m so bored.”

“And what do you want me to do about it?” 

In response, you merely grumble, feeling him roll you over so that he can untie the laces of your shoe, kneeling at the edge of the bed for better access as you let out a huff, unsure what to say.

Because really, there aren’t very many options left. Already you’ve read every book your party has and then some thanks to Gale and his lengthy trip to Sorcerer’s Sundries, as well as exhausted all your conversation topics. At this point, there’s nothing left but card games and sleeping and Astarion frequently cheats which leaves you with the most boring option. The one you’d rather suffer through the pain of activity than submit to, prompting you to look at Astarion with pleading eyes, praying that just this once he’ll give in. 

“Don’t look at me like that.” 

You narrow your eyes and wiggle your foot as he eventually discards your boot, quickly moving to kick his face in annoyance only to have him catch it before you make contact.

“If you don’t stop I’ll cast hold person on you,” he threatens then, moving to grip your knee and pull you towards the edge of the bed. Smirking at the sound of you squealing in amusement at the sudden shift in position. 

“You’d like that wouldn’t you?” you tease, but all he does is slowly maneuver himself above you, slotting his hips between your already spread legs. Ignoring the way your face contorts to showcase the sudden nerves that erupt. 

“I would because then you’d actually rest.” 

“But I am resting.” 

“Hm, are you?”

“I’m laying down aren’t I?”

“That’s different than resting, my love.” 

“Is it?”

Somehow he’s managed to distract you with conversation long enough for you not to notice he’s looming above you. Pressing his palms against the spaces next to your head —shifting the lower half of his body to lightly press against your own. 

Upon noticing this, you swallow hard and try not to smile. Forcing down the anxiety of Astarion’s mischievous gaze exploring your features —taking in the obvious temptation that’s begun to surface. 

“You don’t seem very tired,” he tells you. Teasing you in a way that has you rolling your eyes, allowing it to happen because, while you’ve exhausted a lot of options to entertain yourself, sex isn’t one of them. Considering the two of you have been too busy reuniting and making sure everything about your resurrection continued to go smoothly, the thought really hadn’t occurred to either of you. 

Far too lost in the simple touches of each other’s company, up until now it felt more important just to coexist. To relax and monitor rather than jump into something that could only result in complications. 

Which is a thought that sits at the back of your mind. Even as he leans down, nudging your nose with his —saying something flirtatious that you completely miss due to the passing thoughts that stroll through your head— you can’t help but wonder if it’s a good idea.

“Are you sure we—“

He cuts you off with a gentle kiss. One that lingers for a couple of seconds before it’s over and he’s grinning above you, moving to glide his thumb along your cheek. “We don’t have to if you don’t want to.“

“No, I just —is it right?” 

He scrunches up his face, looking at you in confusion. Making you realize how offensive your words probably sound. “Sorry, I don’t mean it like that.”

“Then how did you mean it?”

You take a minute to put together your thoughts, ignoring the way he longs for your answer. Feeling him shift slightly backwards in anticipation of your inevitable rejection. 

“Is this the right time to be doing this?”

He raises his brow and sort of laughs. “Do you mean that morally or?”

“Kind of?”

“Kind of?”

All you do is scoff in embarrassment, moving your hands to cover your face. “I just mean that… should we be having sex while the others are doing all the work?” 

Astarion really laughs at that, his voice practically rising a full octave as he swats away your hands, watching your annoyance only increase at his actions. “Seriously? That’s what you’re concerned about?”

“I feel like it’s a valid concern.” 

“Well, it’s not.” 

“Okay but I think—” 

He steals another kiss, ignoring the groan of protest that hits his lips. Opting to instead grab your cheek again, gliding his fingers against your skin. Feeling the way you almost immediately settle into his touch the moment he pulls away. 

“Darling, you and I both know the other’s don’t give a shit what we do. So long as it’s somewhat legal and doesn’t disturb their sleep.” 

Moving your hands to his torso, you practically sigh in defeat, pinching his hips with frustrated fingers as you lean up and kiss his chin. “I don’t know. I think Gale might be jealous if he comes back and sees us.”

As you fall back down he chases you instantly, enveloping your mouth in his a third time, knowing then that you’re surrendering. That instead of fighting the urge to make excuses, you’re allowing yourself to enjoy what he’s offering. To experience that connection without the added baggage of not knowing whether or not there’s feelings involved. 

Because now that you’ve admitted it —now that both of you have said those three little words, it feels completely different. After travelling and talking and experiencing that unfortunate blip of separation there’s a whole other dynamic that takes place.

For example, somehow his touch is gentler. And not because of your current physical setbacks. No, there’s something tender about it. As if the care he has for you has extended from his heart to his palms, guiding them in ways that make your chest tighten with newfound anticipation. Against your flesh, his fingers are delicately placed, slipping to grip the back of your neck, sprawling out to cover as much surface area as possible. 

Sighing into him, your thoughts wander to different positions. Imagining all of the ways the two of you might end up, you can feel your stomach twist with excitement. Your mouth curling up into an empty-minded smile, unaware of the joy that radiates between you. Too distracted by the happy sound he makes when you grip the waistline of his pants. 

“Does this serve as a good enough distraction for your boredom?” 

You hum and kiss him, eventually pulling back to nod. “Only if it’s okay.” 

For a moment he pauses, his expression turning from playful to serious. His eyes softening at the weight of your words, realizing that you mean it. That for once in his life he’s in control of his own pleasure. 

“I promise you, I wouldn’t offer if it wasn’t,” he eventually tells you, and all you do is beam. Moving your hands to his face, you look at him with affectionate pride, running your thumbs along the highpoint of his cheeks —pressing down as you pull him back to rest his forehead against yours.

“I love you so much,” you say, closing your eyes, hearing him softly hum in a way that rips the air right out of your lungs. Feeling the way he stiffens before he ultimately melts beneath your touch, allowing the full weight of his body to press against yours. 

“You mean the world to me,” he responds, moving to kiss your cheek before moving to the other before you open your eyes again to see him hovering above. “When I lost you I—“

You don’t interrupt him. Instead, you just press your lips together and offer a nod, watching his mind work through the blockage. 

“Losing you felt like losing hope. Like I was being shoved back into that blasted mausoleum all over again.” He pauses to swallow, watching you stare into his eyes, refusing to break the contact even though it’s obvious he wants to. “I don’t want to feel like that ever again. I can’t —I won’t.” 

Your hands move towards his shoulders, slowly weaving their way around his neck to pull him close. To let him feel the pounding heart inside your chest and how its pace quickens because of him.

“I know it may seem like I’m ungrateful a lot of the time —that I’m brash or unkind but don’t think for a second I take for granted what you feel for me.” His lips press against yours for a second before they’re separate again. “I love you and I won’t let anything more happen to you.”

As soon as he finishes you can’t help but pull him against your chest, placing a kiss to the crown of his head before resting your chin on top of it. “Mm, you really have a way with words don’t you?”

All he does is chuckle. “I would hope so after all the mindless chatter I’ve done over the last two centuries.”

“I’m sure you’ve swept your fair share of feet with that beautiful voice of yours.” 

He cranes his neck to look up at you. “My voice is pretty beautiful, isn’t it?”

“It’s like music to my ears, darling,” you tell him, partially mocking him as he scoffs in response and reaches for the nearest pillow to smother your already giggling face.

 “Don’t mock me.” 

Awkwardly moving to shove the pillow aside, you feel him shift against you as he sits up, grabbing both of your wrists and pinning them above your head. “Actually, you know what, I take back what I said —I actually hate you.”

“No you don’t.” 

You scrunch up your face in fake annoyance as he leans down again, giving you a chastising look. “I do. So much so that I don’t want to have sex with you anymore.”

“Oh, really?”

While nodding your head, you try your best to get him to release your wrists but to no avail, eventually sighing in response. “Yeah, I’d rather take a bath instead, I think. Get you to wash my hair or something.”

Without even protesting he just kisses your nose and rises from the bed, readying the bath. Taking it upon himself to focus on the task at hand rather than your lingering eyes staring at his dishevelled hair and the way his clothes have shifted out of place thanks to your roaming hands. Something that shouldn’t annoy you but does as you crave his attention. Finding yourself wanting desperately to keep him connected any way you can. 

Because despite knowing he’s here with you, sometimes he isn’t. Instead, sometimes he’s lost in far-off lands, travelling by himself in fear, trying desperately to get back. Behind his eyes, you can always tell when he’s absent because his eyes sort of shift out of focus, dismissing whatever’s directly in front of him in favour of relieving whatever awful memory’s been triggered. 

It breaks your heart. Ultimately spurring you to stand and move behind, wrapping your arms around him as he finishes up the bath. 

“C’mon, get it before it gets cold.” 

Despite wanting to playfully protest, you listen. Taking a reluctant step back while releasing his frame, you slowly begin to peel off your clothes, feeling his fingertips reach for your stomach as you throw your tunic over your head.

“Can I help you?” 

Looking down at his hand, you see his fingers draw patterns into your flesh. How they practically dance their way down to your waist before his other hand slips to the buttons of your trousers. 

“Other way around.”

You look at him, confused, prompting him to laugh. 

“Figured you could use a hand with these.” He tugs the button through the hole with one quick swipe, causing you to bite back a smirk and roll your eyes, allowing him to slowly drag the fabric down your legs. Watching as he moves to his knees along with it. 

Once there, he motions for you to step out of each pant leg, discarding the fabric entirely. Grinning up at you once you’re left only in your underwear. 

“Gods, you’re…” He doesn’t finish. Instead, he just kisses the inner portion of your thigh as he plays with the edge of the fabric, looking up at you with pleading eyes. The kind that you merely nod at, suddenly feeling nervous.

Because it’s been a while since he’s seen you like this. And even so, it continues to feel different. More intimate somehow as he moves at a leisurely pace, kissing your skin while exposing your sex. As it happens, you have to look away and take a breath, feeling everything shift past your thighs and knees, eventually moving to your calves and feet before there’s nothing against you. No fabric or hands or lips —only the suffocating air of the inn hitting your bare skin, forcing you to uncomfortably squirm as you look down. 

“Beautiful,” he mutters, and suddenly it feels like your heart is bursting against your chest, watching as he leans forward to pepper a few kisses along your upper legs, reaching for the scars that line your stomach —ignoring the way they twitch beneath his fingertips as he traces over them. “How about we get you into the tub before the water gets cold, hm?”

Almost nervously you nod, feeling him grip your hips for support as he moves to stand before guiding you into the tub without another word. 

-

TAGLIST:

@poohxlove @gaiasmight @sassy-stupid @novarex @v-gremlin @sapphiccloud @lipstickghoulie @kuroitsukyo @jjfchk @idiotsatan @bluestuesday @bloopthebat @art-by-greenie @heneralmoon @sukunababe @dreamingaboutyousworld @ranfithegood @haniscrying @liadamerondjarin @the-lake-is-calling @marina-and-the-memes @rookieoftheyear @zraloci-cpr @kaetmo @snickerdoodle-daydream @wowowwild @d1anna @raswiet @conniesbbymama @venus-wrts @demonicthorns @kihten @sanscas @spammypasta @leighsartworks216 @rose-gold-blue @p1ssmagg0t @hellish-writes @ghostinvenus @otayz @sexysquatch @sleepyeclair @colorful-anxieties @alina-exe @lillifer @girlwiththepapatattoo @acelin-ginsberg @pinkuranium @catrad0rable @scarletrosesposts @qwnamidala @itsrosebabe @bunnyperi @queenofcarrotflowers-s @tatumadams20 @spkyxszn @chlort @f3v3rs @awkwardwookie @joy-the-reader @warm-milk-with-honey-blog @vertigocrime @iyis @wildpiper @pebblethestone @tillywasneverhere @bex-03 @revemiya @staticspouse @itzagothamcitysiren

(taglist continued in reblogs)

[astronicht]

I was DMing a friend yesterday about how the lotr films (imo) do a great job of making Gondor look vaguely Carolingian — I was kind of holding it up as a positive example of intuiting and extrapolating on what Tolkien might have meant when doing adaptations — but said I wasn’t personally sure whether Tolkien was pulling from the Carolingian Empire or maybe the very shaky papacy further south or Visigoths or something. Or all of it!

Anyway then I settled in for my evening pop-nonfiction read, and got to find out why I’m always mixing up the Merovingians and Carolingians, a thing I will never do again. Bc yes they were two ruling families, but one was originally the fucking… stewards. I mean mayors. Haha.

(From The Private Lives of the Saints, Janina Ramirez, 2015. pp. 346-7)

Several points:

- I KNOW I made a post back in Rohan about how it’s very nice and wholesome that Tolkien wrote a fix-it for the brutal sack of the Saxons (Rohan*) by the big post-Roman southern kingdom but I didn’t know how thoroughly he did that. He really said what if Carolingians Gondor and Saxons et al Rohan bonded together to fight evil 💗 instead 💗

- So I don’t actually think Tolkien goes 1:1 with characters and historical figures, but I’m weeping at the idea that Boromir was a sort of Charlemagne but stuck in an AU where Charlemagne touches a magic ring and dies (despite being cool ☹️)

- Alternatively, it was actually Charlemagne’s dad who made a deal with the pope (NO idea on this one lmao good luck everyone) and seized power. Which would make Boromir something of a… potential.. Pippin figure.

Like he’s not, it’s not 1:1! But each Tolkien character does sometimes feel like an avatar of 3-5 medieval characters in a flashing and beautiful and strange palimpsest, while still utterly being themselves and not a symbol etc. it just so happens that you could, I guess? Make this argument for Boromir if you really really wanted to. Or Faramir! Charlemagne really tried to be both brothers, actually, which is— oh it’s fascinating again. Damn.

- Final incredibly important question: Wh at constellation was on Aragorn’s sword. I need to know the constellation on Aragorn’s sword immediately.

*I sound increasingly insane the further I get in these books but as… as established in previous posts there’s no English Channel in Tolkien’s world so Rohan is sort of the Saxons, Doggerland, and the Angles, Jutes, etc (English kingdoms), running up to Wales (the hill people + where Aragon goes on a Wild Hunt). God it’s so ancient aliens sounding but I cannot disavow any of this at this point.

[leavemeslowly]

IV. from first fever to love's plague

pairing: Susie Glass x Edward Horniman

tv show: The Gentlemen (2024)

wordcount: 6, 030

warnings: mild smut, emotional tension, sexual tension, blood, hurt/comfort, love no hate, mild violence, characters sick with longing

available on AO3

Eddie, after so many years of living in his own skin and knowing more or less what to expect, still, on occasion, would be surprised. For example, this morning, he woke up in his bedroom and hoisted up to rest against the headboard. He looked down and could not avert his gaze from a silhouette sleeping next to him. To say the least, he was hypnotised by her gently opened lips, pale skin and lashes, which, even without mascara, were thick and black as night. Eddie felt like a pervert staring at her defenceless posture, and it made his heart beat faster.

He just forgot what it is like to have someone next to him. It was insane that this person was the daughter of the most notorious drug lord in the entire country or even Europe. But, she was also Susie, sometimes when Eddie was angry, Susan, but yesterday, in the middle of the night, she was his darling and sweetheart. He mentally slapped himself realising how ridiculous that sounded.

Susie stirred next to him and clutched the sheets to her chest, inching closer to him. Without a word, she left a kiss between his pectorals and briefly on his throat to stop in front of his face. She was glorious like this. Wild, with a defiant look in those arctic blue eyes and a tiny smirk on her lips. She grasped his arm and pressed herself against his body, letting him feel the outline of her curves.

'Morning', She whispered, and Eddie’s eyelids fluttered as if he was Pavlov’s dog conditioned to be overcome with desire whenever she wore that cocky expression.

'Hello,' his voice came out low and hoarse. He could tell she liked it by the way she looked at him. Silence fell when they stared at each other, and memories of yesterday skipped in front of their eyes. Her fingers slipped into his hair, and his chest instantly flared with intense need.

'I have to kiss you, Susie.' She laughed and almost rolled her eyes. He was pathetic but could pull it off.

'It is never how did you sleep? Or are you hungry?'

'I don’t care.' Sometimes, shamelessness could get him far. 'I know what you truly want.'

'I should tempter your confidence before you become unbearable, Eddie.' She slipped her leg across his thighs and let her hands roam over his body, now fully devoted to bringing her pleasure and happiness. He was lovesick, and repressing it simply made no sense because she could read him like a book with one glance into his raven eyes.

'Can’t wait.' He mumbled before resting his hands on her upper back and pulling her to him. Their lips crushed together. He missed this even though he indulged in kissing her for almost half of the night.

She let the sheets slip down her body. Uncovered skin showed reddened marks left by Eddie, a reminder of who she belonged to even when he could never truly claim her clever mind, foul mouth and exquisite body. Eddie’s fingers skimmed over the marks, eliciting a shudder of want ripping through her. This tender touch pushed Susie to kiss him, spiking her desire to impossible heights, demanding his touch, his complete attention and devotion.

All Eddie could do was agree to those terms when he held her close. Their bodies spread on the mahogany bed, tangled together as the day rose above the horizon.

***

Knowing climate gets warmer every year, he feared one day, winters would stop altogether. There will be no snow at all, no frozen lakes, no rime on the branches coiled from their old age. Birds, instead of undertaking a hazardous journey to Africa, will be staying in gloomy England, getting fat and forgetting how to fly. The awful, awful perspective he sometimes contemplated, especially when having morning coffee in a room overlooking the garden enveloped in snow.

He turned to face the doors, hearing heels clicking on the wooden floor. Eddie took her in, from those red, glossy shoes through her slender, long legs he worshipped and then the cobalt coat. Susie’s face remained neutral when he took her in. Long, black hair curled on her arms, red lipstick making his stomach twist, and those attentive, punishing eyes looked straight through him, scanning his mood, movements, and tightness of grip around the cup handle.

He wanted to throw the porcelain through the window and embrace her like a creature he never suspected he could be. The cup was also his last rescue, an annoying object sobering him up and forcing him to stay still.

‘Your Grace’,Susie welcomed him, mocking seriousness. ‘Winter in Halstead Manor is more beautiful every year. Snow in London looks like angels made fun of humans and pissed on it before throwing it from the sky.’

Eddie chuckled and looked at her with a wide, honest smile. He noticed she enjoyed making him laugh with her punchy wit.

‘I see you are in a good mood today.’ He concluded when inviting her to his study with a gesture of a hand. ‘This heightens my spirits too.’

She briefly looked into his eyes, probably surprised by his directness. That was everything to him, those stolen glances filled to the brim with understanding, twisting his insights in every direction.

At least until they discuss their operations, when it becomes strictly professional because their business is literally a matter of life and death to both them and their families.

That is also why he could not just get closer and touch her whenever he wanted. They put some rules in place, which he despised but obeyed, especially knowing how hot his blood could become. If they weren’t created, if he didn’t want to disappoint her, he would have, a long time ago, mindlessly kissed her so she would grasp his arms, trying to steady herself. He would then embrace her while looking at the garden and tell her how afraid he is that this is the last time he is seeing snow.

However, they would need a different life for that, some more time and bravery on his part, as if he lacked any. That was nothing for what he was prepared. Eddie’s life was not average, taking into account his family estate, but falling for someone like Susie resembled a spontaneously improvised scene.

That sat in the office and started to discuss the most pressing matters. Business was good. Their recent success of defeating Uncle Stan has been accepted as a triumph and they were in the position of strength.

After they finished, Susie was still sitting opposite him. She was waiting for him to decide what they should do next. Should she go, or maybe he would find an excuse to keep her close? That was not strictly within the agreement's lines, but they allowed a wide interpretation.

‘Would you like to take a walk with me in the park?’

Susie smirked in response.

‘With pleasure, Mr. Darcy.’ She made fun of him, but he just shook his head, hearing how unserious she was. ‘But I will need different shoes.’

Yes, her red boots were no suitable for an exploration of winter countryside.

‘Let me find something.’

After a while, he came back with Hunters’ black wellingtons. When Susie reached for them, he just dismissed her hand and kneeled in front of her. She stilled for a second but almost shyly let him grab her ankle and slowly unzip the leather. He smiled at Susie, reassuring her that he did not mean any harm.

Her gaze was transfixed on him; she probably could not really comprehend this gesture. It was almost like pleading allegiance, being her servant, subordinating to her needs, even if she was perfectly capable of dressing herself. Eddie did not have to tell, he wanted to show it, prove that his devotion was undying.

He may not demonstrate it constantly, but it is always there. Always with him. She is right between his breaths, in the corner of his eye, hanging heavy on his soul.

He held her close for a while, and despite untangling from her limbs, Eddie was still haunted by her embrace. Not a full-bodied presence before him but a ghost, his favourite ghost, of her pressed to him.

After helping with the shoes, he lingered a bit, with a hand on her knee and eyes meeting hers. They were darker now. It was his doing. He caused this storm to unravel and fight inside of her. Soon, it will swallow them both, cover them with waters of want and oblivion, when they fall together into the ocean foam of his white, starched sheets in the master bedroom. With only one touch, he was making a promise, silently saying, I still want you, I did not forget.

They walked out to the backyard garden and proceeded in the direction of a forest filled with trees which branches seemed almost black. Their temporary nakedness was covered with pristinely white snow. As if angels respected this place too much to play out their tricks here.

‘You whose face have felt the winter's wind, whose eye has seen the snow clouds hung in mist, and the black elm tops among the freezing stars, to thee the spring will be a harvest-time.” Eddie recited when they walked along the lake, on the breach of the forest. Susie looked up at him, trying to find a reason for this pensiveness. ‘You may laugh, but I loved poetry in high school. I even had Keats’s poems with me in Turkey.’

At once her eyes were overcome with tenderness they rarely bore, even whilst she was falling apart in his arms. ‘God, Eddie, you are unfathomed.’

‘I know it does not really present me as a suitable partner in crime.’ He tilted his head looking into the grey skies above, capriciously self-aware of potential judgment.

‘Don’t be absurd. You are irreplaceable, Edward.’ He looked down raising his eyebrows but Susie’s cheekbones were brought up by her honest smile. ‘It is all so new.’

He understood. It was the same for him. Eddie did not know how to react to a sudden need to halt and simply kiss her lips. Instead, Eddie chose to stare as she was looking down at her black wellingtons also unsure how to process this confession.

‘On my post, days were uneventful. We were controlling borders, checking documents and bringing supplies to cross-border villages. The inhabitants were hospitable but they also distrusted us. Rightfully so, I guess…’

‘But it wasn’t all there was?’

‘No, Susie, not all. I heard gossip during training. Right before deployment, one of the higher-ranked officers mentioned the possibility of some extra tasks being assigned to us. We were a blue-ribbon division, our training focused on reconnaissance, but it developed all different sorts of skill sets.’

‘Killing included.’ Susie supplied. They stopped on the other side of the lake and faced each other now.

‘Indeed.’ He never told anyone the next part. The after-sunset part. ‘But during nights, it was all different. We used to be paired with other divisions from France or the United States, and we would go across the border. Into the war. We would trace particularly dangerous groups patrolling the border. We had to eliminate them. They were not primitive. Many were trained by Americans. They fought bravely and ruthlessly, but we were soundless, perfectly thorough, and cruel. At night, it felt surreal. Never realised its impact.’

‘That is why you never came back? Your mum told me you were away for 8 years.’

He put his hands in the pockets of a Barbour jacket and shrugged his shoulders.

‘Think so, yes. When I left, I was angry. Disappointed with my prospects. Not with being the second son but with society to which I had to adjust. The rules and traditions are ridiculous. You know that. So I chose something agreeable that provided a way out.’ She was letting him continue, get it off his chest. He felt it was right to tell her this and strengthen her trust. ‘I never hated people I killed. The army wanted us to but what I felt was mostly indifference. I admired them in a way. They have probably done horrible things, but because I have never seen them doing it, I had no proof. What was real was that they were all so young. They fought that way, too. Officers were telling us it is service, it is for the country, His Majesty, for peace. For our egos and primal bloodthirst. I don’t know what I believed but had some convenient truth to get me through the days.’

‘You were young too, Eddie.’ She almost whispered. He had to swallow the thickness in his throat to continue.

‘I blended in so well. I have always known just this one thing. It was comforting in a way. Maybe what I was telling myself was that now my ancestors are truly proud of me. That I am fulfilling my purpose.’

Susie looked at him with lips forming a thin line. She moved closer and grabbed around his wrist.

‘Eddie, look at me. Your purpose is your family, there is more to you than what happened in Syria. If you want me to say it, I can. I forgive you for everything. For every person you killed. But this is exactly what will make us invincible. Together.’

Eddie felt something unlocking, untangling within him. Beforehand, it was tightly shut, closed to his inner radar. Now, it was stepping forward, feeling places where he felt a beaming void, where he was left undone at the ripe age of twenty-one when he decided to join the military.

She was looking straight into his eyes, forcing him to leave the past behind and embrace all that was coming their way.

***

Glassknuckle was famous for its galas, at which young talents from all around South London were presented to promotors. Even with Jack still recovering from his accident, Susie decided not to abandon this tradition established by her father in the early 1980s.

Dressed in a silver slip dress and Versace Medusa high heels, she paced around her office, trying to remember if she had forgotten anything. She looked at the clock and realized it was showtime. The gala was about to start, and she was supposed to ring a bell to announce the beginning of the competition.

Outside, the gym area was transformed into a luxurious club where round tables were placed around the main attraction of the ring. The guests were already seated, standing up to pay her their respects, when she passed by on her way to her table.

Susie saw him before he saw her. It was already a few weeks after they crossed the boundaries of their relationship, and she thought that the initial spark would have been extinguished by now. It was not. The sight of Eddie was enough for her body to remember all the places where he touched, sucked and kissed. She wanted to go directly to him and feel his hands resting on her back, informing everyone loud and clear what they were now. Susie was the house, the establishment, she did not fear anyone, much less what anyone had to say about her choice of a partner.

When Edward finally looked at her, turning his face away from Freddie, his eyes slowly dragged down her body. His lips curved into a smile betraying his thoughts, at least to her. He wanted her, and she knew that when she stopped in front of them, looking straight into his eyes. She barely registered Freddie frowning but staying silent for his own good.

'You are killing every man sitting in this room.' Eddie whispered into her ear after she rang the bell, and they sat down to watch the first fight. She hoped people around them were too focused on boxers to notice how he leaned over her.

'I need just one to stay alive.' She turned her head. Eddie was just inches away from her, his whisky breath landing softly on her lips. He must have looked like this when he was younger, overconfident with shining, honest eyes. Susie wanted him to be like this all the time.

’He already died a little because of you.'

The crowd erupted around them. The audience stood up, cheering the boxers as they entered the decisive stage of the fight.

Susie felt her body flaring up with adrenaline. It started in her stomach and flooded her throat and cleavage, spreading down her thighs. He was overstepping. She knew that, but she wanted him to.

It got so loud that she knew he would not hear her reply, which was hanging at the end of her tongue. She will put her words to a good cause later. Now, she watched as Eddie leaned back in his seat, sipping his whisky and observing.

She stood up before him when everyone else was turned to the boxers. Pressed the material closer to her body, giving him a glimpse of the curves hiding under it. He licked his lips, and she felt her body burning. Eddie Horniman was setting her on fire for his own satisfaction, as if he had total control over her. That felt right, too damn good.

Susie slowly turned around to clap for the winner of the fight. The Duke also raised behind her and stepped close enough for his linen shirt to prickle the delicate skin of her forearm. This closeness was enough they could allow for in public.

She was just half-mindedly watching the winner being celebrated on the stage after knocking the other fighter to the floor with a series of impressive punches. Susie was more concerned with imagining Eddie's hands sliding down her spine or holding her hip. She looked up to see his face, and the darkness of his pupils caught her breath. He was focused only on her when his eyes dragged slowly down her features.

'What a fucking amazing fight!' Freddie stepped in between them, cheering and clapping like a madman he probably was. Susie grunted to regain her composure and stepped back away from the danger that Eddie was. 'I think I have to start training box myself.'

Eddie raised his eyebrows at him at shot Freddie a look that immediately told his older brother to hold his horses.

Susie chuckled a bit at that silent exchange, which caused Eddie to look back at her. She smiled at him, suddenly moved by his weird yet caring relationship with Freddie, who was picking up champagne glasses for all three of them. Eddie relaxed his shoulders and returned the smile. Susie was warm, felt almost delicate under his gaze, and filled with fondness she had never seen before.

All the versions of him were magnetising and mysterious, and she wanted to unpeel each one and learn it with her heart. The urge to be held by him not only in their private moments but also officially in public sparked up again, and she had to turn her gaze away from him.

Paradoxically, this thought made her more relaxed. She had no idea how to act on it or if Edward would ever consider it, but she was more honest with herself than she had ever been before. Her footing was far from stable, but it was now at least identified. For better or worse.

Later that night, the fights ended, the guests, including Freddie, left, and cleaning was postponed until the next day. Eddie grabbed her hand and guided her to her office. He moved her to sit on the sofa and kneeled in front of her. When he was kissing up her ankles and her smooth thighs, Susie felt like crying because the rightness of how she felt hit her with full force. She threw her head back, dug her long fingernails into Eddie's soft hair, and whimpered his name. He was good to her, seeing what she needed before she got the faintest idea, not only when it came to pleasure.

After Eddie rested his head on her thigh, she offered to return the service, but he just shook his head. She made a mental note to remember it and compensate him later, but for now she curled against his chest when he sat next to her. He embraced her, and they drank and talked some more before she felt sleep bearing down on her as Eddie's fingers ran down her spine and imprinted small circles on her hips.

***

Leaving London before the weekend was always a nightmare, but on that particular Friday, it seemed to be more daunting than ever. The whole day was filled with smaller housekeeping tasks spread across the town, so Susie and Eddie spent most of the time in her black Land Rover. He insisted on driving them to the Manor, but Susie dismissed him and explained that she could notice when he was exhausted. However, now she regretted her decision because traffic in front of them had been standing still for over half an hour.

She rested her forehead on her hands, holding the steering wheel. After a while, she turned, and the view painfully tugged at her heart. There was something special, intimate, about seeing him stretched out on the passenger seat, observing the traffic jam through slightly narrowed eyes. She hoped she would not disturb his peaceful moment while looking at him.

Then, the cars finally moved, and she had to face the road. It didn't last long and they stopped again. The movement woke Eddie up, and she saw him yawning and blinking as if he forgot where he was.

'We never properly celebrated. Winning the bid, I mean.' She started hesitantly.

'I was under the impression we celebrated plenty.'

She gave him a solemn look which was met with Eddie raising hands and just staying silent on the subject.

'Well, I thought, cause everything is running good, we can, if you want to, of course, I do not know, if you like it at all...'

'Susie, please.'

'We should see the Swan Lake with new ansamble.'

Eddie snapped his gaze to her in shock, but Susie's big eyes were filled with hope and expectation. He immediately softened and chuckled, but his eyebrows remained raised.

'I... did not expect that.' He admitted, trying to put it together.

'You thought I would want to see a cock fight somewhere in Putney?' Eddie was silent for a moment too long. 'Yes, you did.'

‘Fair enough, you got me.' Susie smiled widely. 'I can ask around. I remember father was a long-standing donor, so possibly I can pull some sort of a favour.'

‘Always proving your usefulness, Captain.' Her smile turned a bit more wicked now. Eddie leaned over the console.

'Oh, I am nice when a lady asks me out on a date.'

Susie's mouth shut tight, but he could not contain his smirk.

‘It is not a…’

‘I vaguely recall that a box is available on the Duke’s request.’ He leaned in and moved his eyes over her flushed cheeks. ‘It would ensure us some privacy.’

‘Don’t even think about it, I have never seen this ballet, and you will not distract me.’

‘You wound me, Miss Glass. Then, I must be a good boy and see where it will get me.’

Susie smirked and leaned over his ear.

‘Probably to the second floor of a certain newly purchased apartment in Mayfair.’

His eyes flashed with curiosity.

'What is there?'

Susie acted as if she was trying to remember.

'A very comfortable king-size bed with fresh silk sheets and the view of Regent’s Park.' She explained slowly and watched Eddie's throat bobble.

'Then, I will be on my best behaviour.'

'And in your finest suit.' She added.

'Yes, ma’am.' He grabbed her hand, still placed on the steering wheel and kissed the tops of her fingers. She inhaled deeply, and only the cars honking behind took her out of her daydreams. Susie started the engine to continue their drive to the Manor.

***

Susie was captivating tonight. The heavy, long earrings almost touched her bare shoulders. She was leaning slightly towards the railing, almost like she was in a trance, focusing only on the ballet dancers performing their hearts onstage. Eddie should have appreciated them more and observed their emotions carefully because dancing was not only movement, it was more than that. It was a touch, a brush of hands and a deep look into the eyes. It was in the distance tonight, the red and gold decorations of the Opera, only a background for Susie's profile. Her cheeks adorned with pink dust, and her eyes emphasised by a black, bold eyeliner.

She turned her head and caught him watching her, but he did not flinch. Susie sent him a tiny smile, almost invisible in the darkness they were sitting in. His heart should not have ached the way it did, seeing her satisfied. Her face was relaxed, full of relief. Maybe this was what she truly wanted - art and dance. Not blood, death and fear. Until now, she always had to look behind her back to be sure no one shot her and disappeared into thin air. But now, any time she looked behind her, Eddie was right there to protect her or just be there with her. Not demanding anything, not trying to force her to do anything.

Suddenly, he felt Susie's warm fingers decorated with gold rings landing gently on his. She squeezed them slowly, and it meant everything to him that she wanted this touch, even when they could not say a word to each other.

It was like she put his fingers right on his beating heart. Hold it in her hand and hide it in her palm to keep it, kidnap it away from him. But there was no ransom to pay. It was hers. He never had any person that he could just leave it with until Susie. Before, Eddie thought he had no heart. He was more of a device than a human being. A puppet dressed in a uniform manipulated to the will of others.

After the third act, a break was scheduled, for which Eddie ordered a cold bottle of champagne. Susie did not stop holding his hand, even when a waiter was opening the champagne and pouring them the first glass.

When he left, Susie cleared her throat, and his attention was solely on her. She looked at him, one hand holding his, another gripping the champagne flute. The noise of the audience rushing for the exit faded to nothing.

'I said it would be a celebration because that is how my mother wanted to celebrate when I graduated middle school.' She inhaled and squeezed his fingers, reassuring herself more than him. 'Mum was optimistic and happy, too happy for the poor English weather. We never got a chance to visit the Opera. She had a hidden aneurysm, no history in the family, nothing. One second, she was there, tall and happy, mixing something in a kitchen. Then, she collapsed, and before the ambulance arrived, she was gone.'

He could barely hear her. Maybe that was why she chose this place. from all the others because it was distracting, trying to steal the attention away from the words painful as a knife slowly dragged through the organs.

'Susie, that is why... Oh, God. I am so sorry.' Tears slid down her cheeks and dropped on her dress, leaving wet marks. He took her into his arms and kissed her hair, but she tugged on his arm, and he understood he should give her more space.

'I can't stop thinking about her now. How much she would have loved it. I want to believe she would be happy here. Or happy seeing me here. With you. Not alone.' Her voice was barely above a whisper. It was almost lost among the background noise of the auditorium. He understood Susie was afraid of sharing them, but holding them inside was even more deadly. His chest hurt, his eyes burnt, and he searched around, powerless, faced with her confessions, powerless, realising his love. But there was no escape. Perhaps it was the time to stop running.

The cork has popped, and the liquid has spilt. He was in love with her. Susie made him feel like the weak-willed, work-shy, public school-educated heir.

Her hands could mould him into whatever she wished. One day, he was a general, her equal partner. Then, on the other days, he was rolling like a good boy she had trained.

Hearing the first bell announcing the beginning of the third act, they separated. Eddie drank his glass of champagne as if he hadn't drunk for a week. He tried to push down the feelings stirring inside him before the lights went down.

At some point, he focused on the dancers. They were putting on a solid performance tonight. The finale was breathtaking, the white dresses twirling around the dancefloor with the monstrous raven terrorising the innocent swans.

Before Odetta climbed the rock and made the ultimate sacrifice, Eddie's gaze moved to Susie's face. Her bright eyes were glazed with emotion, her breath withheld. Her lips trembled, when, he suspected, Odetta jumped.

Eddie gently took Susie's hand and reverently kissed its palm.

He will always catch her. No more desperation, no more unnecessary death threats. Love will conquer all, even if it means swallowing him alive.

At that moment, it was palpable that the sacrifice would be his. Because, foolishly, he did not expect anything in return.

She looked at him, startled and surprised, but then immediately appeased. His mission was to assure her peace. In their line of business, it meant a constant war with the entire world.

***

Susie admitted she chose to move up north to be closer to Halstead and Eddie's heart leaped at her words. Her new house was hidden behind a tall, brick wall behind which stood a two-level villa with white window frames and dark blue entrance doors. The heavy, black gates closed behind them and the stone-paved path led them to the doors. The interior was specious, with staircase leading to the first floor.

They left their coats in the corridor and walked to the living with a height ceiling and overlooking the garden frozen in its winter dream.

‘I decided to have a garden, after spending more time in Halstead and realising how good it is to have nature right outside of the house.’

Eddie turned away from the windows and looked at her standing in her black dress with silver embellishments. She had her hair pinned, so it cascaded down her right arm. The only colour was a red lipstick painted on her lips, which stayed in tact, because he refrained from kissing her to honour her request. But now, they were finally alone, in her new house, where they were free from their business and praying eyes.

A shiver run down his spine when he remembered that after they collected their coats and headed to call for a taxi to go the restaurant where he made a reservation, Susie leaned into him and rested her forehead on his. Her breath caressed his cheekbones and she murmured:

‘Take me home, Eddie.’

He swallowed, hearing her words. He wanted that more than anything, but he also wanted to feed her, show her that he is more than the soldier turned gangster. More than anything he wanted to talk to her, get to know her better, because the time that was dedicated only to them, has never been enough for him.

‘We have a reservation… You don’t know how hard it was to make it.’

Susie smiled and pressed her front to his coat. His hand flew to her waist and he tilted his head back to really look at her and ascertain what he should do. Truly, he wanted nothing else than to forget about this dinner, take her home and have her legs wrapped around his waist for the rest of the night.

‘It is alright, Eddie. I won’t think any less about you, if we don’t go.’

Edward felt his resolve breaking and he squeezed her side. He drew out a shaky breath.

‘If you say so. I don’t want you to starve.’

Susie looked into his eyes.

‘Don’t worry about it. I know you will keep me sated.’

Desire fired up in his belly and he had to turn away from her to wave for a taxi.

Now, he stood in front of her again and let his hand rest on her cheek. His hand was so large in comparison to her face. Anytime he held her, she was drowning in arms. Physically there was an imbalance between them, but only one gesture or a single eye contact was enough for Eddie to change his mind and adjust to her needs. When she opened up earlier that night, he wanted her to know that it was safe to tell him about her past. He wanted her to trust him.

‘Thank you for telling me about your mother.’ He was stroking her cheeks and her eyes glazed with tears at his words. ‘I wish I could tell her how wonderful you are.’

She sniffed at that and rested her hands on his chest.

‘You will make me cry for the wrong reasons.’

Eddie smiled and felt desire building up again but tried to contain it for few more moments.

‘Wish I could tell her that you are everything to me. It is soppy, and not something I had ever thought about saying to anyone.’ There was practically no space between them. He caught her hands and lowered his face to kiss her fingers. She stopped breathing and looked him straight in the eyes.

Now her hand flew to his cheek and she closed her eyes, when her forehead rested on his once again tonight.

‘You are everything to me too. It feels like I am melting when I am with you. I am having troubles with recognising myself.’

She forced her eyes open to look at him. Eddie looked at her with curiosity.

‘I am melting you?’ He echoed.

‘My mind, my heart and my body. With you I am still me, you are not taking away who I am, but you are changing me. You are showing me it is good to admit things, but you don’t question me when I do things my way.’

She was looking at him pleasingly. He was ready to make a move, to let it all wash over him. To make her melt again and again, to prove her case.

‘You can kiss me, now.’ Her shy voice was louder than any scream he has ever heard. He leaped forward and took her in his arms.

On their way upstairs, they lost their shoes, their clothes, watches and all the expensive fabrics they wore with so much pride.

Susie and Eddie melted into each other. Kissed the air out of their lungs and exchanged it with a new kind of gas capable of sustaining only the two of them.

When the dawn started over the tops of the trees, Eddie was mindlessly skimming his hands down her bare shoulder when she breathed hard into his neck. Small shivers were still running through her, the remnants of pleasure that overcame them.

‘Maybe it is not melting, maybe I am completely dissolving.’ Susie whispered near his ear. He stopped his caresses and moved to look at her face resting on his shoulder. ‘Maybe this is what falling in love is.’

Eddie’s heart started to beat wildly in his chest. He became restless, suddenly wanting to go for a walk and regain some composure he discarded along with his clothes.

Instead, he pulled her closer to him and kissed her hair, trying to come up with any suitable answer. Her breathing was steady, and her fingers rested relaxed on his chest.

He closed his eyes and confessed in the dark.

‘Then, I am already gone.’

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•••••

Sorry for all the mistakes. I really wanted to publish it so it would stop haunting my dreams. Tell me what you think and if you would want to read anything else about these two! All the comments and likes will be greatly appreciated <3

[hollyoongs]

𓇬 Woo-ooh 이제 재미없어 | no more fever |

◞ ≽ܫ≼ ◟ 𝖍𝖔𝖑𝖑𝖞'𝖘 ♡ 𝖕𝖗𝖔𝖒𝖕𝖙 𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙

↷ 𝚑𝚘𝚕𝚕𝚢'𝚜 note: After my girl @sunkittie dropped her prompts list to get out of writers block, I decided to do that (despite having several blogs already in my drafts) , tysm for the idea love! This is mostly you do a request (anon or not) and I make small scenarios with the given prompts. I made prompts so that it can fit female and male idols with fem reader (and some of them I can turn them into threesomes) 🦋

RULES 4 THE REQUEST!

step 1: be polite, saying hello at first doesn't hurt, yk? <3

step 2: prompts you would like (3 or 4) + member (i see a minor and istg i won't hesitate on delete it.)

EXAMPLE!

"hey girl! So I thinking about 6 + 38 with heeseung." "hi! this is my first time doing a request, but can you do 36 + 45 with itzy ryunjin. tysm!"

REQUESTS WILL BE CLOSE ON 6th of September

“Then be quiet. Don’t make a mess, baby.”

“That’s not fair! You tied up a vibrator on me!”

"Fuck, I can see my dick inside you"

“I’ll devour you in a different way. Can you guess how?”

"Wear your marks with pride"

“Shhh, don’t make a sound. Keep still,” 

“Be a good girl for me, baby.”

“Now, now, what do brats get?”

“I'm not sorry.”

"Own this pussy, please."

"Such a good boy"

"She/He can never have you, not like I'm having you now"

"Open that mouth."

"I love how I can turn you into a mess."

"Take off your clothes."

"What a nice, submissive little slut you are"

"Want me to model these for you?"

" You're body says otherwise."

"Why did you buy me this?"

"I want you to break me. Make me entirely yours."

"Feels too good, right?"

"I could just pull your bikini bottoms to the side, no one will notice"

"And I'm going to make you cum again."

"Keep doing that."

"It’s not my fault you keep turning me on"

"God, you taste so good I could just eat you whole."

"Wanna play a little?"

"I've never wanted to fuck someone as badly as I want to fuck you right now."

"How the fuck did you manage to cover me in this many hickies?!"

"Think anyone will notice if I start fingering you right now?"

"I’m trying not to fuck you senseless right now."

"What if someone hears us?"

"Can't believe I created a cock slut."

"I want you to feel good."

"So...you wanna have sex?"

"That's it, baby, fuck yourself on me."

"You're on top, but I'm in charge."

"Eyes on me, pretty."

"Come kiss me and bite me."

"Scream. Let the neighbors know my name."

"Make that noise again"

"You look really pretty when you cry."

"Come on, fuck me."

"Okay, you fucking win."

"Can I sit on your face?"

"Cum all over me."

"You're such a brat."

"You taste like fucking candy."

"I can do this all day"

"You look so good right now."

"Keep them on the mirror, sweet thing."

"I will do whatever you ask of me."

"How can you still be so tight?"

"Coming back for more?"

"Yes sir/ma'am"

"Back sit, now."

"The camera makes you look even more wet."

"You're killing me"

"This is fucking insane."

"Own me baby, ride it like the good girl that you are"

current permanent taglist: @kwiwin @hees-love @taeghi @glitterjay @caratstick @hvseung @hxxsxxng @jaehoonii

[jumblekinz]

webkinz room decorating tips!

hi. hello. welcome to property brothers: webkinz edition, where I give you some tips for decorating and designing rooms. 

play around with room sizes and placements! this might mean something like splitting one large room into one small room and one medium room because you had more items than originally thought, or something like starting with a small room and changing to a medium room or a large room when you want more space or have more items than originally thought.

that being said - don’t be afraid to fill up small and medium rooms! I find that I like my rooms to have most of the floor space filled, so don’t be afraid to fill up every corner of a small room or add things on counters or tables.

okay this might sound a little insane but when going through your dock, START AT THE END. like scroll allllllll the way to the end. this lets all your items load so your dock doesn’t do any of those weird jumps and you don’t lose your place. 

colors are key! how I start out designing a room is I scroll to the end of my dock and then work backwards and literally throw in ANYTHING that has the same color scheme or palette, and any item that matches the theme. don’t worry about the organization for now, cause if you remove anything from the room, it’ll just go in your recent items, which gives you a section of the dock to easily work with. like here’s a couple of rooms after that process:  

like in the first picture I threw in items that were candy themed! and then right away I can kinda see that some of the items placed in there stick out, like they’re too dark or bold for the color scheme, or there’s not enough of that color in the room to pull it together. one way to identify those items is to take a step back or like. blur your vision - the first things your eyes are drawn too are probably the ones that don’t go, like this:

don’t be afraid to mix themes! what tends to make a room fit together is COLOR and STYLE. like I wouldn’t put a really angular table into a room that mainly has furniture with rounded edges, or vice versa. 

don’t shy away from wshop items! I know this might seem like a basic tip and sound kinda silly, but I used to avoid using wshop items because they weren’t rare/exclusive/etc. but wshop has some great items for room fillers, like simple plants, toys, rugs, and tables. plus, wshop has a lot of simple items that can go with a LOT of themes - things like the white rug or the golden side table or the party time windows. it’s a-okay to use an item that’s wshop or not “rare” if you like how it looks!

ask for help! while everyone has different tastes and will design rooms differently, putting an in-progress room in a group chat or a discord server can help you get some new ideas on how a room is organized, what to add to a room, or ideas for swapping out items.

look through other rooms for inspiration! I like to search pinterest (here’s my board of webkinz inspo) and go through the rooms Michael Webkinz posts on WebkinzNewz. you can see a lot of different themes and design layouts and get some inspiration for your house!

try and make different “areas” or “zones” in your rooms, so you have different places within the room itself! in a bathroom for example, I usually have a toilet zone, a bathtub zone, and a sink zone. or if I’m making a large room that has a bed, I’ll try and siphon off a little area for sleeping. rugs and dividers are great for helping you make these zones!

play around with the space and do what makes you happy! the beauty of webkinz rooms are that you can change them over and over again.

and lastly, while not webkinz, this video by polygon talks about how you can use real interior design tips to decorate your virtual rooms - in the video’s case, they use animal crossing, but I find a lot of the tips are helpful for webkinz too!

happy room decorating!! don’t be afraid to share your rooms on social media or to Michael at letsbuild@ganz.com. there are literally infinite possibilities and I love seeing what people do with their houses!

[starmybrainrot]

Fluff!Bang Chan Imagine

Genderless Y/N has a rough day and gets overstimulated at work. When they get home, Chan is there to help calm things down. (I don't write fluff or Y/N stuff, so don't be mean lol) word count: 1786 cw: pretty detailed depiction of overstimulating situations ______________________________________________________________ As the big hand on the clock joins its partner, the work day is officially over. That’s normally good. Especially today. 

It's been a particularly stressful day at work. Nothing insane had happened- it wasn’t as if someone had a stroke in their office. But little things had piled up all day. 

For example, you’d woken up late. Not having time to stop and get coffee from the shop near you, you decided to get some at work. You took a crowded, stuffy metro ride all the way to work, just to be met with a broken coffee machine. It was like that all day. Someone coughing too loud and far too near you. Having to rush through your lunch. A meeting running just ten minutes too long. Nothing particularly unbearable, but the overstimulation sank in fast. It was like your skin was burning but only on the inside. Every sound too loud, every smell too strong. It was unbearable. 

So, usually, 7:00 would be a relief. But today it’s a new worry. Rush hour traffic. Everyone’s going to be on the train. It’d be just like this morning, except people would be even more annoyed this time. Pushing, snapping, more teenagers running around outside the stations. 

Your hands tremble with mounting anxiety as your train speeds towards home. Three stops left. You think to yourself, white-knuckling the pole on your left. The train lurches to a halt. Someone steps on your toe and the pain is amplified, swimming up your leg like neurotoxin. The man mutters an apology and bows his head a bit before hurrying off.

Two stops left. The person next to you is blasting their music too loud. Someone keeps swinging their foot- it’s clipping against the ground. Yet another person coughs too loudly. You swallow harshly and screw your eyes shut. The train stops. More people get off, more people get on. 

One stop left. You think, biting the inside of your cheek. Just one more… A baby starts crying at the other end of the car. Someone forgot to silence their phone- the tone is blaring from mere feet away. More coughing, sneezing. What if you get sick? Oh, God, you’re going to get sick- 

The train stops and you practically throw yourself off. There’s no time to stay still. You make your way off the train, tap out of the station, and make your way up the steps in almost one fluid motion. Your legs speed up faster and faster until you’re practically running up the stairs to your building. Fingers still shaking, you manage to get the key in the door, turn around and try not to slam the door as you shut it.

You take a deep breath, and immediately a small sense of calm fills your lungs. The neurotoxin that’s wrapped its tendrils around your bones is being fought off by the faint, sweet smell of your boyfriend’s apartment.

“Y/N?” Chan’s voice creeps around the walls of your house. “You finally home?” It’s slow, calm. It sounds like he’s been relaxed for a while. You don’t have the energy to wonder when he got home or why. All you know is that he is. 

Instead of responding, you take your shoes off and place them on their designated rack. While you’re fussing around with them, slipper-muffled footsteps creep up behind you. 

“Y/N?” Despite being sing-songy, Chan’s saying your name still makes you jump. You turn around to face him, unsure of how to react. He knows what to do, though, and hugs you. It’s a happy hug, one that continues fighting off the blackness in your stomach. He kisses the top of your head and pulls back, holding your face in his hands. He smiles to himself, running his thumb across your cheekbone. 

“Hi.” He says, the smile on his face widening to a grin. You can’t help but smile back. Despite how shitty you feel, it’s impossible not to. That pretty dimpled smile… It's contagious. It’s as if the gods took all the stars from the sky and put them in his eyes, where his teeth are. So warm and bright, no matter how big or small it is. So you smile. 

“Hi,” You manage back. You don’t have much energy to talk, but there was so much love in that single word you couldn’t help but return it.

“You’re gonna wash up, right? After work ‘n’ everything?”

“Yeah, that’s right.”

“Cool. I’m gonna go back to our room.” He pauses, as if he's thinking of something else to say. When he can't find anything, he just kisses you again. 

His lips feel perfect yours. Pillowy, soft, still tasting of the cherry Vaseline he applied hours ago. He holds the kiss for a second longer than most gentle kisses are. His hand stays holding yours for a moment later. Even in such small movements, he’s clinging to the softness, the innocence. 

He can sense the anxiety that’s mounted in your chest, your throat. He doesn’t want to rush you into talking, he just wants his baby better. So he holds it. He clings to the calmness for just a second longer. 

You pull back and smile at him. He nods and turns around, fingertips skimming the door frame as he walks back into your bedroom.

Washing up is fast but is in no way fun. Your soul still feels like it’s scratching to get out. The smell of steam is the only thing in the bathroom, and without Chan’s smell or the soft touch of his skin, the toxin is back in your bloodstream. You can feel each individual jet of water from the showerhead, each drop of soap, each plume of steam rising off your skin. You don’t stay in that shower very long

You’re able to bundle yourself in pajamas. Safe fabric, finally. Something soft, familiar. That worn out t-shirt you stole from Chan. The shorts that are a bit too stretch out but you can’t bring yourself to toss. Nothing too tight, too smooth, too rough. Everything’s safe. 

You run your fingers over the hem of the shirt as you walk into your bedroom, the cool fabric slipping between your fingertips.

Peering into the bedroom, you just sit and admire your boyfriend for a few seconds. It’s clear he’s going to go to sleep early. Despite it only being about 8:00 or so, he’s already shirtless and partially under the blankets. He’s lazily scrolling on his phone, a thousand-yard stare painting his eyes. And yet that bright, joyful smile hasn’t left his face. It’s more tired now. Much more gentle. Much less upturned. But there’s so much peace in his face. The faint magenta light that glows against his walls has painted his skin a beautiful mural of pinks and purples. He looks like something you’d find in a prodigy’s photography portfolio.

You take a deep breath and walk in, clambering on top of the mattress. Without a second of consideration, you lie face down on his torso. Resting the side of your face in the middle of his chest, you slip your arms under his back, holding him close to you. He’s smooth and warm, his typical gentle, warm smell filling your nose. You take a deep breathe, letting your lungs fill with him. 

Without a second’s hesitation, Chan rests one hand on your back and the other on the back of your head. He looks down and kisses your, his lips brushing ever so faintly across the top of your head.

“Why, hello there, my pretty baby.” He muses, his voice high and playful. He may be tired, but he’s overflowing with happiness at the mere sight of you. Being able to see, touch, smell you. Each sense activated is another damn bursting with golden light. 

Hi. You think. You don’t respond out loud. You want to. Really, you do. But there’s no energy. WIth the overstimulation fading away, all you can feel is how tired you are and how shitty you feel.

Chan strokes your head lightly with his fingertips, trying to lull you into a calmer state of mind. It’s working, thankfully, and he wants to make sure it stays working.

“You okay?” He asks you, his voice dropped to a whisper.

“Mm-mm.” You manage, unmoving beneath is soothing hands. 

“You wanna talk about it?”

“Mm-mm.” 

He sighs. You can’t see it, but he nods. 

“That’s okay.” He assures you. “You don’t need to if you don’t want to.” He kisses your head again, this time longer. He holds your head a bit firmer, pressing you into his lips. “I love you so much, my baby.” He sighs. 

With that, he doesn’t say anything else.

You stay like that for a while. The only sounds are the pitter-patter of an approaching storm against the window and the breaths of Chan beneath you. His warmth leaks into you, that golden love inside of him infecting you yet again. Sticky sweet honey that holds the two of you together. 

Each breath you take in unison, every small circle of fingertips on skin, all the tiny kisses you press into each other. With each and every miniscule act of love, you’re pulled closer together. Closer to each other’s souls, closer to sleep. 

Eventually, the overstimulation and anxiety has completely leached itself out of your body. His fingertips no longer feel like hands. You’re able to snuggle deeper into his chest, he’s able to hold you tighter. He buries his face in your hair as you bury yours in his skin. He smells good. He smells like home. 

Despite sleep dangling above your head like an anvil tied with twine, it’s yet to knock you out. Your eyes are shut, your body is still. Yet you still haven’t passed out. No matter if you have or not, it’s comfortable. It’s sweet. It’s safe.

After a half house of this wake-sleep silence, Chan speaks up again. His voice is raspy and deep, indicative of someone about to pass out themselves. Still, he doesn’t stop himself from speaking to you again.

“I know you had a bad day, and I want you to remember that tomorrow’s going to be better. Even if work is worse, I’ll be waiting right here when you get home. I promise. I’ll be waiting right here for you. I’ll always be here to make sure you’re alright. You’re the love of my life, Y/N. I can’t just let you feel like shit.” He takes a deep breath. “I love you, Y/N. Sweet dreams.”

He presses one final kiss onto your head, and as his lips leave your skin, you’re finally pulled under.

[fyodoro]

HAI. may i request akito with a reader who got injured super duper bad but tries to hide it? but obviously fails haha

(for example: i broke my shoulder once and though i didn't try to hide it it hurt like a bitch. like that kind of injury.)

HAVE AN AMAZING DAY!!!!! decline this if you don't feel comfortable writing it, and don't forget to take breaks!!!! :)

-> 𝐓𝐞𝐥𝐥 𝐌𝐞 𝐓𝐞𝐥𝐥 𝐌𝐞

You couldn’t stand feeling like a bother, especially to your own boyfriend. Unfortunately for you, he has a keen eye. But also fortunately, you could never be a bother to him, no matter how tough he acts.

Cw - reader is in pain, confrontation (but it’s healthy communication), Akito goes soft oh wow, implied broken leg

Genre - fluff, comfort

It was an accident, really. You didn’t initially intend to hide your immense pain and discomfort, it just… happened. But the longer it went on, the more inconvenient you felt to speak up. You knew you didn’t have much reason to feel that way, but you still did. Especially to Akito.

He’s been relaxed all week, him and his group put a successful event on over the weekend, and it’s kept his mood up since. You didn’t have the heart to take that away from him.

So you didn’t. All week, you’ve handled this insane amount of pain on your own. You thought it’d be easier overtime, but it’s only gotten worse. That’s when you the question arrises in your mind…

Did you break a bone?

The possibility is certainly there, you did fall out the tree pretty hard, not to mention high up. But that’s an even bigger inconvenience, even for yourself. And how could you ever hide a broken limb?

What a pain.

Walking was a pain, a big pain. Not only does it hurt, but the way you limp gets many odd looks from peers and passerby’s. You’re doing a terrible job at hiding this, aren’t you? And if you’re failing at hiding it, then that means…

“We need to talk.”

In any other situation, your heart would have dropped. But in this situation, you only sighed. You knew what Akito wanted to talk about, it’d be a surprise if he hasn’t caught on by now anyways. After all, he knows you better than anyone else. Maybe even yourself.

“You can fool the others but you can’t fool me, you know that right?”

His tone is playful, but so serious. You don’t know whether to brace yourself for a scolding or not.

“Well you see, it’s not like I wanted to hide it? I’m not sure how to put it… it kinda just happened, y’know?”

“How do you just happen to hide a borderline broken leg?”

You awkwardly laughed. Yeah, you were definitely getting a scolding.

“I just… didn’t wanna bother you Akito. You’ve been so happy lately after that event, and I didn’t wanna kill your mood. I didn’t think the pain would get worse though, I thought it would be healed by now.”

“Babe…”

“I know it sounds dumb but-“

He cut you off with a quick kiss on the lips. Not too long, but long enough for you to kiss back in time. He pulled away and grabbed your hand, guiding you to sit down.

“It’s not dumb (Name), you’re hurt and you tried to hide it and it got worse. You wouldn’t have killed my mood if you told me. I would have helped you a lot sooner and I’m sorry I made you feel like you couldn’t go to me about it. Just… please if this happens again, don’t be scared to ask me for help, okay?”

His voice was so tender and soft, dropping the tough guy act and letting himself be vulnerable with you. You didn’t know what you were thinking before, but you’re just happy Akito understands.

“I love you so much… thank you for understanding, Akito.”

“I love you even more, now how about we get you in bed? You’re not allowed to walk for another few days unless it’s just around your house or my house. I think we still have crutches from when Ena broke he leg years ago…”

You chuckled, he went from gentle to stern mother in a blink of an eye. But this was the boy you loved after all.

He smiles at you knowingly. Akito picks you up bridal style before gently tossing you on his bed and flopping down next to you, pulling the thick comforter up in the coldness.

“But it’s late now, and I’m exhausted, and even if you aren’t, you need rest. So let’s get everything taken care of tomorrow.”

His presence was enough to make you feel better, and before you knew it you were burying yourself in his hold.

“Goodnight… love.”

[freakshowtwopointoh]

Come Home With Me - All I've Ever Known Part 7

Come home with me

Maybe because she'll make you feel alive

< prev | next >

If you had told me at the start of the semester that Jordan Li would become my closest friend on campus I would have laughed in your face. But it was November now, and I found myself looking for them in every room, letting out a sigh of relief when our eyes would meet. Even though I barely understood myself, Jordan seemed to really see me - the me underneath the layers of deception and anxieties. They would catch my eye across the classroom when one of our professors said something particularly inane, a shared moment of truth amongst the lies. 

If I was truly honest with myself, it reminded me of Sam. I could never hide my true feelings or intentions from him either. We used to have the same kind of moment when our dad would wax on and on about what it means to be a hero or whatever sanctimonious bullshit he was spewing that night at the dinner table. And it was an addictive and terrifying thing to be truly known. Especially when there are still skeletons in my closet, and threats looming on the horizon. 

Being with Jordan made it easier to push those worries away. They started crashing my study time at the library, sidling up to my table with their characteristic smirk, a coffee in hand. 

Today, they slid a cookie across the table at me. I raised an eyebrow at them in confusion but they pointedly ignored me, pulling out their laptop. But I swear I saw a small, satisfied smile flit across their face when I ate it. 

It’s strange, the things you notice about someone when you spend a lot of time together. For example, I had never paid attention to how someone moves before. But Jordan moves with precision, like they’ve mapped out what they’re going to do before they’ve done it. And yet, they move quickly - lightning fast reflexes. Despite being a supe, I still usually felt like I had to choose between speed and accuracy, and Jordan had both in spades. 

There are other things I’ve noticed. Things I wouldn’t dare admit to - it makes me sound like a creep. But I know the kind of cologne they wear (L'eau d'Issey - I may or may not have recognized the smell in store right away), I know the face they make when they’re biting back a quip, and... yeah, I’m falling for Jordan fucking Li. Despite my best efforts, despite the insane nonsense happening around us, despite the fact that I’m still keeping major secrets from them, I get fucking butterflies when they smile at me. 

They don’t need to know about my ... incident during the spring. They’re already helping me with my family shit, already drove me to the fucking cemetery, already help so much with the nightmares that don’t seem to be getting any better. The details are irrelevant, and besides - no one else knows. No one else can know. Even Robert, my dad’s lawyer, keeps certain details from him. The only one who knows the whole truth is Grace, and that’s because she’s the one who found me.

Last night was really bad. I might need to change my sleeping aid because I’m skipping the same number of days but I couldn’t wake up last night. I was trapped, choking, feeling his hand gripping the back of my neck and pressing me deeper into the water.

I don’t remember what happened properly either, which makes it that much harder. It’s like a series of scenes from a television show that have been put back in the wrong order. The doctors said that PTSD is like a memory filing error. My brain was trying to keep me alive, and it didn’t have time to organize the memories properly and put them away in the right place. To me, it feels like I’m still putting together the puzzle of my own life, and I can’t keep my hands from shaking so I keep dropping the pieces. I’m not sure if I’ll ever know the full extent of what happened to me during those few days, or why it happened. 

Jordan coughs, and I blink, only to realize I had been staring off into the distance for who knows how long.

“Earth to Maggie. Everything all right up there?” They asked, and despite the casual smirk on their face, I knew they genuinely cared. But that didn’t mean I could tell them everything. That wouldn’t be fair, and it would start me down a path of remembering that would just cause more problems. So I just smiled and nodded. 

“Just had trouble sleeping last night.” I said, hoping I sounded relaxed about it.

“Worse than usual?” They asked, looking up briefly from their screen. I nodded, and Jordan just gave me a soft smile before going back to their work. I was glad they didn’t push the issue. Then I remembered their tentative offer from a month or so ago.

By the way, if you ever need to, uh, train with someone

Maybe burning off some steam before bed would do me some good. “Hey, if you’re free tonight... would you be willing to spar for a bit?” I asked hesitantly. “If the offer still stands, of course.” They grinned at me impishly. 

“Hell yeah.” And so we ended up in the training room once more, decked out in athletic gear, but this time we were facing down each other instead of sandbags. I settled into my usual stance for sparring but Jordan just smirked and came to adjust my stance. They used their foot to move mine a few inches to the left, and then their hands were on my hips, grabbing them softly and adjusting the angle slightly. My mind went blank.

I didn’t think one touch could render me speechless, but it was all I could do to keep my face from betraying my emotions. My skin burned slightly where their fingers had been, and I swallowed hard. Then Jordan fell into their own fighting stance, their bob tied back, and nodded once.

Especially when fighting, Jordan is fast - and perceptive. Even when I’m trying to disguise my feints, they still seem to know exactly where I’m planning on striking. I sighed in frustration as they continued blocking every strike without breaking a sweat.

“Your lean is a bit too exaggerated when you feint.” They explained, taking a long drink from their water. I tear my eyes away from them before I can really start staring. 

We started exchanging blows again and I focused on keeping my movements natural. I even got a few hits in before I got over confident and ended up backed into a corner. And there was that stomach lurching, heart pounding, mind melting feeling as our eyes met. You would think that it’d be impossible to be intimidated by someone a few inches shorter than you, but I legitimately felt my breath catch in my throat.

“You’re improving, little mouse, but I still win.” They said lowly, with that fucking smirk again, and I swallowed hard. I knew I should have something clever to say but I couldn’t think about anything but their piercing brown eyes which were staring deep into my soul.

“One more round,” I said huskily. It would be three more rounds before we both went back to the townhouse to crash. And, surprisingly, no nightmares.

Luke’s POV

When my dad explained his plans for our future all those years ago, it all made sense. I remember sitting in his office, pleased to be included in the work my dad was doing.

“Luke, I’m telling you this because you’re the eldest - that means you’re the leader. Your mother and I have always known that you and your siblings would be incredible heroes. We made a deal with the people behind the seven to get you, Margaret, and Sam what you’ll need to be the best heroes you can be.” He said to me, holding my gaze to impress the seriousness of his request. “I’m going to need your help to make sure that your siblings stay on the right track, ok? This world is full of temptations - but you three have a responsibility as heroes.” 

A responsibility as heroes. That stuck with me - more than I think he intended. And it became clear throughout the years that my siblings did not feel the same way. They didn’t feel the sense of duty I felt towards society. I have these powers - shouldn’t I be using them for good? 

I knew our dad just had our best interests at heart, and I understood his motivations. So I was okay doing what he asked. Even when it felt... wrong. Like reading my sister’s journal and reporting on her research and inventions. Or helping them put Sam in that facility. I try not to think about that too much - he killed himself two days after he was admitted there, and it still feels like it's my fault. I isolated him from his support system - but he needed help, more help than we could give him. Dad had been right all along - unfortunately. Maggie’s insistence that Sam is alive when she doesn’t know anything is infuriating. She wasn’t there when Sam was committed. She didn’t see the animal look in his eyes when he was being driven away. After seeing that, it was much easier to understand how he could have killed himself. 

A few days before the gala, my dad called me to chat about Maggie and her ... attitude problem. I had noticed it, of course - she had no desire to actually put in the work to become a  hero or flesh out the story that had been created for her - to cover up her mistakes.

“Listen, son, I need a bit more help with your sister. Despite all the work Robert and I put in to get her this deal, she’s still dragging her feet, and we are getting a bit... concerned.” He said seriously. “We were hoping you could talk to her at the gala, and introduce her to some of my associates. She’s a good girl, and she means well, but sometimes I think she forgets what’s truly at stake.” We’d had this kind of conversation before. It was different when she and Sam were together - they brought out the worst in each other. Idealistic, stubborn, and selfish. They have no understanding of what it takes to become a hero or what it took for them to even get their powers in the first place. 

“Of course, dad. She’s smart, she’ll come around.” I said, and I hoped I was right. 

“She better. A lot changed when Sammy died. We can’t afford any more setbacks.” The casual way he spoke about Sam’s death - as if it hadn’t changed everything - made my stomach churn, but as usual, I ignored it. Everyone copes differently, I guess. 

That’s what I was thinking as I got ready for the gala, tightening the ruby-red tie I had picked out to match Cate’s gown. But little did I know, this was more than just a conversation, and Maggie wasn’t the only one in the dark about what was truly going on.

< prev | next >

thanks to @barbieprincesshilton for the edits

[mutantninjamidlifecrisis]

Your 23!!!!!???? I’m also 23??!!!!!

Dude; how the hell did you get so good at writing/pos/affectionate

What are your secrets and tips??

Oh wow this got longer than I thought it would be but anyway lets kick this off by saying age is no number! Don’t ever feel like you’re too young/old to start/improve. Also take any advice I give here with a grain of salt! I’m a stem major, I specialise in Zoology, not English. I’ve never taken a writing class, this is just what I've found works from my own experience and also from talking with other people that write fics.

I think first up, have a concept that you deeply, deeply love - an idea that you want to see so bad you’re willing to remove it from your brain and write it down onto a page. This is harder than it sounds.

There are two types of writers, I think. Type One – the people that want everything structured and figured out before they begin, and then there’s Type Two - the others that go: Fuck it, we ball, and type out the story without a plan and let it fly by the seat of their pants. Both styles have their pros and cons. Sometimes when your story is too structured and you’re trying to drive through plot points the story can feel very stiff and rail-roady, like you’re trying to play out certain beats rather than letting the narrative go where it would naturally flow. But sometimes letting the story flow without a plan for long enough means you get lost in it, and it never actually come to an overarching message or end point (i.e., it can get very wish-washy, and parts you want to really hit are less likely to because you haven’t had a pre-established plan leading up to it). You’ll probably naturally lean one way or the other, but I think both these styles can and should be interchangeable when you’re in the process of writing a story. I think having a good structure is particularly important the longer your fic is. The way I usually do things is to have a loose structure set out (typing out dotpoints of what I want to achieve from a chapter and the sequence of events that will play out, and keeping this as a reference during the writing process), and then let myself go wild with everything else in between (probably how I end up with 10k+ chapters. Which. Is not advisable, I think 2-7k is a much more reasonable number).

You might also want to have in mind how long your story is going to be and how much time you’re willing to put into writing it before you start <- (CJ has many sadly abandoned wips because they lost sight of where the story was going and didn’t plan out their time schedule appropriately) I try to plan ahead and have some vague idea of where I want the story to end. This helps a lot with motivation when writing.

If you’re able to write out a one-shot, I would highly recommend it. I tend to really like writing multi-chapter fics because the brainrot gets to me and I have no impulse control.

Once you have your concept and your loose structure (start, middle, climax, end), you’re going to want to expand on things. i.e. what are you trying to say with your story. What are the themes that really hit for you. What scenes are going to make you go absolutely feral (you can write these first, if you want). I’ve got a scene a chapter or two ahead that I already have in mind that’s going to make me go insane, and that’s the carrot at the end of the stick that’s pulling me through areas that I don’t want to write so much.

I also have like, sheets for each character with a list of dotpoints relating to their background, motivations, feelings towards other characters and how these dynamics may evolve over time etc. This is a really useful resource to flip back to when I’m writing.

Research, research, research. Google, read, watch videos. Expand on the stuff that you do not know, or stuff that you do know and want to expand upon (for example, I have had a panic attack before. I can write from experience of what that is like, however I do not know what it’s like from other’s perspectives, and they may have completely different symptoms to my own). The more information you’re able to gather, the more believable and interesting the story is going to be to the reader.

Do Not. I repeat. Do NOT write that you are a new writer/sorry im bad at summaries <- that kind of stuff in your fic description if you’re going post to ao3. I know it is tempting. I have imposter syndrome and the urge to lower people’s expectations before they jump in is very strong, but you gotta at least pretend to be confident. The summary is for marketing yourself and convincing people to give you a chance. You can add that stuff to the author’s notes if you’d really like. People will usually be willing to give you a shot even if you think you’re summary is bad. And often your writing is a lot better than you think it is (after having stared at it for hours). Also, the more you write and post, the better you will get.

I guess the only other advice is uh… Read! Read a lot. I don’t read nearly as much non-fanfiction as I should, but I am constantly reading, and I do believe that there's some non-published stuff out there that's a lot better than "official" books or whatever. There’s so many amazing authors out there – fic writers or no, and there's always going to be someone (probably a lot of someones) better than you. Don't be discouraged by that! Keep in mind the kind of stuff that really affects you, and how the writer got you to that point.

I’m sure I’ve forgotten/left stuff out here so if you ever have more questions feel free to ask. Also google is your friend! There’s so many incredible resources out there that can teach you how to write/structure/improve your story.

Most importantly, have fun with it. You’re not getting paid; you don’t owe anyone anything. If you’re not enjoying yourself, what’s the point?

[theminecraftbee]

I posted 23,379 times in 2022

That's 12,272 more posts than 2021!

5,012 posts created (21%)

18,367 posts reblogged (79%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@/gardenergulfie

@/harley-the-pancake

@/simplydm

@/bananasofthorns

@/starsandfluff

I tagged 20,218 of my posts in 2022

Only 14% of my posts had no tags

#from the queue - 11,399 posts

#answered - 2,886 posts

#stream liveblogging - 822 posts

#hermitcraft - 555 posts

#ask game - 354 posts

#double life spoilers - 213 posts

#hermitcraft spoilers - 196 posts

#a bee fic - 177 posts

#joe hills - 171 posts

#empires smp - 130 posts

Longest Tag: 138 characters

#i love grian’s weird contradictory ‘is immediately bound by any rules of competition and won’t break them even if they’re all in his head’

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

[image ID: two pictures of joe in his daughter's homemade zombiecleo costume. /end ID]

...oh my god,

4,233 notes - Posted October 26, 2022

#4

huge fan of how they did this 1.20 update so far. the changes really do feel like “they are doing things to make minecraft more minecraft”, just adding several small things that makes everything feel nicer is exactly what i want from an update. just… small details! huge fan of that! also a big fan of them going “we are only going to show you features that are done”. it does mean we don’t actually get to know what they’re planning until it’s about to be in a snapshot, which will be an adjustment, but it’ll prevent all the nonsense that happened around 1.19, so I’m a fan. overall, like how 1.20 is looking!

4,370 notes - Posted October 15, 2022

#3

genuinely all the pairs are insane. shoutout, for example, to tango and jimmy, the single most doomed pair of people i can possibly imagine. mr. “dies with tragic futility” and mr. “dies first despite his best efforts” are on the same team AND one of them was already blown up by a creeper. i cannot imagine a more “will die first” pairing. those poor boys i’m already planning their funeral,

5,032 notes - Posted June 17, 2022

#2

“Alright,” Jevin says, “now you just have to give the egg basket back.”

Grian stares at him with big, black, soulful eyes, and holds the basket closer to himself. “...give... you... the eggs...?”

Jevin closes his eyes and mentally counts to five before opening them again. “Yeah. That was the point of the game, right? Collect the eggs and then give them back to prove you’d found them.”

Grian continues to stare.

“So you hand me the basket...”

“Are... are you keeping an eye on them?” Grian asks.

“Keeping an eye on the eggs.”

“Well, it’s a dangerous world out there,” Grian says. “You never know when some maniac with TNT might show up. Probably best to just keep these in my ne- base. Keep these in my base.”

“A maniac with TNT?“ says Jevin, in a tone of voice he hopes conveys exactly who the maniac with TNT normally is on the server.

“You never know,” Grian says. “You’ve seen the eggs now. You know I found them. Really, what do you need all those eggs for? Surely you won’t miss these, right?”

Jevin sighs. “Yes, but I need the eggs to prove you didn’t cheat. You can’t win unless you turn them in.”

Grian stares blankly at Jevin, big black eyes watering as he tries to decide between winning (a thing Grian is very bad at giving up on) and, presumably, some stupid bird instinct that’s refusing to let him let go of the eggs. Jevin’s not sure which one is winning. He is sure, however, that he is slightly regretting making the egg hunt actually use eggs.

Because, he thinks wryly, it’s hardly just Grian.

“Jevin,” Doc says, landing on the platform to the egg hunt central area. Grian makes a sound somewhere between a hiss and a squawk and pulls his shulker full of carefully-padded and protected eggs closer to his chest. “I have found all of my eggs.”

“Excellent! Now, if you’ll hand them over -”

Doc is holding a shulker close to his chest. “Give you my eggs? Don’t be ridiculous.”

...the worst part, Jevin thinks, as he tries to figure out how to negotiate with a bunch of hybrids who haven’t slept in too long and therefore don’t realize they’re being irrational, is that the others are almost certainly going to insist on playing again next year. Something about optimal hiding spots. Next year, though, he swears: he’s not calling them eggs.

5,705 notes - Posted April 20, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

general writing advice, actually: you don’t need an excuse beyond “BUT WOULDN’T THIS BE COOL” to write something into your fic. write things in solely because they make you cackle with the delight of a 12-year-old-boy playing with his dinosaur toys. it’s fun and there’s nothing stopping you or any of us at all any longer.

20,415 notes - Posted February 25, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

[ct-multifandom]

Hey so there was this theory with the pic of Emilie and Gabriel looking at lil Adrien and I just wanted to ask you if you could explain it a bit more clearly cuz this theory sounds absolutely insanely fantastic and id like to understand it properly,thanks sm

Hi! Sorry for the very late response. I’m still not caught up on the show, so I’m probably missing many details, and for that reason I’d like to open this post up to other people to discuss because I think the things I noticed in prior seasons have become more relevant with the s5 finale.

the Amelie vs Emilie “theory”

For the new people, about a year ago I made two posts in response to the s4 episodes Wishmaker and Gabriel Agreste pointing out things that caught my eye regarding the twins.

All in all I don’t have much of a solid conclusion for the “theory” which is why it’s so confusing. It’s mostly a compilation of details I thought were strange and potentially foreshadowing a future plot twist. I’ll list some below.

In Wishmaker, Adrien’s baby memory depicts his mother with blue eyes and his father with green eyes. Astruc claims this was an error, which might be true.

Many depictions of Emilie have her in black and white. For example, the movie she starred in was B&W, and Felix and Kagami’s award winning indie film was all B&W, plus their eye colors didn’t change anyway under the masks

When Gabriel made the wish, Emilie didn’t open her eyes, she stayed dead

In the first post I pointed out that Emilie and Amelie are wearing different colored blazers, although I believe Astruc has since also said that’s insignificant. Once again dk if that’s true or not. In Andre’s dream box, he has headshots of supposedly young Tomoe and either Emilie or Amelie, but she’s wearing Amelie’s blazer.

Of course, since I’ve made those posts, we’ve seen actual scenes of Gabriel and his wife where she clearly has green eyes

I want to put emphasis on this because I’ve never seen anyone except me mention it: in the episode Gabriel Agreste, Gabriel’s tablet falls and breaks due to Marino’s antics. Amelie and Felix are the only guests to arrive AFTER this and NOT get their finger prints scanned.

Most recently, the writers commented on the finale. They said that Emilie has not come back to life, but intentionally avoided specifying who was at the pool party in the big sunhat. This would lead us to just say it’s Amelie then, but the vagueness makes me wonder.

The writers also suggested they left the contents of Gabriel’s wish vague on purpose to pull some twist. They said you’d think it just healed Nathalie’s illness, but that’s not all, and there’s a trick to it.

Minor note, but the whole reason people were confused about the swimsuit woman’s identity is because the leaked texture reference page for her character model was labeled Emilie. Either they changed the story, had a spelling mixup, or [insert conspiracy]

Adding on, after the first post I made, someone sent me old concept art of Adrien’s mom simply labeled “Adrien’s mother”. Either they didn’t come up with her name yet back then, or [insert conspiracy]

So at the end of the day, I have some level of confidence that they’re planning something with these GDV twins, but every explanation I can come up with for it sounds kinda crazy. Perhaps the most straightforward thing I can suggest is that the two swapped places early on in the overall plot? Idk. I’d love to hear other people’s ideas no matter how crazy. Maybe Gabriel wished for Emilie’s ghost to possess Amelie, awaken in the dead of night, and carry on his legacy of throwing plastic trash directly into the river. Who even is Emilie? Who’s Amelie? I’m excited to see where it all goes.

[toaster-hair]

Graveyard Shift

(A/N: hey guys this is my first fnaf fic and also i apologize for my insane writing style)

Mike is missing Vanessa and gets a job at a hospital.

A large piece of paper with a “FIRED” laid upon Mike’s desk. 

Mike stared at the paper in utter confusion. He looks around the office, waiting for an explanation. He just started a month ago, don’t tell him he’s doomed to forever look for a job he’s only gonna have for a few weeks and then get fired!

“You got fired again?” Abbey asked at the dinner table. It had only been a couple of months since his last job as a… security guard… “How come?” Abbey continued to question as she stuffed her mouth with cheap off-brand cereal.

“Apparently, I kept clocking in too late when they needed me to come in sooner, or something like that.” Mike shook his head as he filled his coffee mug to the brim, nearly overfilling it due to his lack of focus on the very important act of filling a cup of coffee. He could never get a job as a barista like that. Wasn’t even a good brand of coffee.

He put the cup of coffee on the dinner table in such an unmannered manner, such a rude man not putting his coffee down in a way so that it wouldn’t make a loud sound. With a swift motion he pulled a chair out and sat his perky little cheeks on it. Abbey looked up from her bowl of cereal at him with some kind of emotion on her face, not sure which. “How is Vanessa doing?” she asked as she tilted her head. Mike froze for a moment. He forgot when the last time he visited her was. But he knew for sure that last time, she was still asleep. “Why haven’t I seen her lately? Is she still hurt?” 

Mike nodded his square head “Vanessa is getting better but she has to stay at the hospital until she can get back to working. Working as a cop is dangerous, you see, so they want to make sure she’s had a full recovery.” Abbey looked at him like he was stupid. “Yeah, I know why she’d need to stay at a hospital. I just wanted to know how she was doing.” she said cockishly. Mike chuckled as he looked in the jobs section of the daily newspaper. It was then he saw an ad for a night shift as a security guard at the very hospital Vanessa was staying at.

Mike looked away from the paper and towards his pseudo-daughter sister girl. “Hey Abbey, how has school been treating you?” Abbey stopped her cereal chewing for a moment and spoke to him with her mouth full. “Ifs beenf goof!” she swallowed, “There’s this boy and girl who's been hanging out with me at lunch.” That made Mike smile. “That’s cool, they got names?” he asked. “Of course, um, their names are Cassie and Gregory. They mostly talk to each other, but they like drawing with me.” She started to brag about her new-found friends, wiping milk from her mouth as an alarm clock started to go off. Mike grabbed the clock and smashed it on the ground. “Looks like it's time for school then.” Abbey happily stood up from the table not even putting her dishes in the sink wow Mike really setting a good example for your little sister and ran over to the door, putting on her shoes. 

After dropping Abbey off, Mike started thinking about that graveyard shift at Vanny’s hospital. Now of course, Mike is still traumatized by his last graveyard shift, and he's not even sure if he can do nights again ever since Max…

But still, it was probably best to look for some kind of job. Maybe he could even pay Vanessa a visit! No, that was creepy. Kind of creepy. Would Vanessa find that creepy? Would she be happy that Mike got a job just to see her? After everything they’ve been through? 

When Mike got home he immediately grabbed the phone and dialed in the number of the hospital. Y’know, just cuz he needed the job. No other reason.

“Y’ello, this is Fritz Smith at the New Horizons Medical Center, how may I help you?”

Mike thinks for a moment about what to say.

“....Y’ello? If you aren’t gonna say anything then just hangup, we’re a very busy line we don’t have all day.”

“I wanted to ask about the security job.”

___________________________________________________

As he stepped into the cool air of the night out of his car, he looked at the hospital before him. He already had on his uniform and brought a flashlight with him, so instead of checking to make sure he had everything, he just unlocked the doors and walked in balls to the walls like he owns the place. God what a prick.

Mike got to his office, didn’t put anything down cuz he forgot to bring a backpack, and then immediately left to go see Vanessa. He was lucky he was able to find a babysitter in time, some guy named Ness who needed a side hustle alongside his waitering job. Mike went up and down the stairs AND the escalator trying to find Ms. Nessa before finding her room. He was twice as lucky that she got a room all to herself, so he wouldn’t be disturbing any other patients. 

Mike flashed his flashlight directly at Vanessa’s face. Nope, not waking up. Mike got real close to Vanny’s ear and whispered a soft “Vaaaa~~ Nessss~~ Aaaaa~~”. Didn’t work either. Mike slumped in the chair next to her bed, out of ideas. His perky little buttcheeks weren’t helping him this time.

“I guess I shouldn’t have expected much. You’re still recovering after all. Sorry, Vanessa.” Just as Mike got up from his chair, he hears a screech and feels something grab at his arm. “Mike? That you?”

Mike could jump for joy. In fact, he did. He fucking jumped on a poor sick woman. He then realized that was weird and got back up.

“Sorry, I just- me and Abbey both missed you.” Just as Vanessa was about to speak, he interrupted, “I didn’t bring her with me by the way, I’ve learned better.” Vanessa chuckled.

“I’m glad to see ya, Mike. I uh, haven’t been having great dreams. Nightmares, to be exact. Nightmares about my dad, to be specific.” Mike sat back down into the chair nodding his head. “Go on?” he furthers.

“Well… I keep thinking about something that happened when I was a child.” She began, “I had just gotten home from school when I walked into my father preparing dinner in the kitchen. He was making my favorite, potato stew.” She leaned on Mike’s shoulder a bit, tearing up a little. “I used to love potato stew, I would always ask my mom to make it for me. I always had it on my birthday, too. But that day, I stopped liking it.”

“How come?” Mike asks, “Did you find a fly in your soup?” Vanessa chuckled a bit before her voice changed to a somber tone. 

“No. But I did find something else in it.” She started to choke up and before Mike could even ask what, she says “I found my mother’s ring finger in it.”

Mike stares at her in disbelief. Vanessa starts to sob, the memories coming back. “A-and. I remember my dad.. He.. he told me that if I ever cr-crossed him. Like my mother did. I’d. I'd end up like her.” She laid her head on Mike’s arm, getting his jacket wet from her tears. Mike wasn’t really sure how to comfort her, he was also just really bad at comforting people in general. He knew one thing though, that his perky little buttcheeks wouldn’t help.

“I’m really sorry Vanny. It’s not the exact same, but I know how it feels for your mom to not be around anymore.” Vanessa nodded with tears rolling down her face cheeks. “A few years after Abbey was born, mom just felt so stressed she…” Vanessa pulled him into a hug. Mike just accepted it, knowing she knew what he was about to say.

“SNOOOOOORKKKK mimimimimi….” Vanessa snored loud as hell. Mike put her back into her bed making sure not to mess with all the wires next to her. He figured it’d be fine if he fell asleep on the job, at least until six.

[asexual-spongebob]

Wail Of The Siren - Chapter 3 - The Offer (originally posted: 5/4/24)

Dib didn’t want to believe what he was seeing.

“Tak?! What are you doing here?!” Dib demanded, walking towards mew with a pissed look on his face.

“Dude chill out. I only came here to grab my ship. That’s all, I swear. I want nothing else.”Tak insisted. 

Dib glanced at Gaz with clenched teeth.

“Why are you hanging out with her of all people?!” They whispered in a demanding manner “she tried to destroy the planet for goodness sake.” They add. “Dib, mew doesn’t want to harm us, mew just came here to grab mew’s ship and not much else. I’m not sure why you’re freaking out over something this small.” Gaz scolded. “Yeah but- what if she hurts you?!” Dib fretted. “I know what to do if that happens, Dib. I don’t need my older sibling to protect me.” Gaz grunted. 

Dib then walked upstairs to his room. 

“Ugh Dib is so annoying. I hate how they think I’m still a baby.” Gaz grumbled as she sat back down on the couch.  “Is it okay if I stay here for the night?” Tak asked “Yeah sure, that’s fine. I don’t think my dad would mind.” Gaz answered, then going to the linen closet to grab a blanket.

“Here, I figured you might need this.” Gaz said, handing a blanket to Tak. “Thanks Gaz.” Tak replied, Gaz just nodded sat down on the couch.

“Do you want to play a game or something?” Gaz asked, Tak nodded, Gaz then went to tv stand to look for one.

She rummaged through the shelves for a moment hm… I know that she likes cats. This is probably a good choice. Gaz decided, pulling out the game.

“Does this sound good?” Gaz asked “Yeah that sounds great!” Tak answered. 

Gaz put the disk inside the console.

“So how does this game work?” Tak asked “Ah, so basically you have a little village of cats and you can assign the cats different jobs, like gardener or hunter or baker for example. You can also have the cats interact with each other with the interactions button. You can also take the cats on adventures where they fight monsters. On adventures you can also get special items and currency.” Gaz infodumped “ah, neat. This sounds like it’ll be fun.” Tak remarked, Gaz nodded in agreement. 

It was around 2 am, Professor Membrane arrived home, ready for a good slumber.

He saw his daughter, Gaz sitting on the couch with a blue haired girl and what looked to be her pet cat.

“Hello daughter, how was your day?” He yawned “Fine Dad.” Gaz responded. “Who’s this?” He asked, glancing at Tak. 

“This is a friend of mine, her name is Tak.” Gaz introduced, Tak gave a small wave. “Pleasure to meet you!” She adds, Membrane offered her a hand shake, which was taken.

“Where’s Dib?” Membrane asked, glancing around the room. “He’s upstairs, he’s probably drawing moth man or something. Or making his moth man plushies kiss.” Gaz answered. “My poor insane son…” Membrane remarked, then heading up the stairs.

Dib laid in bed, they’d put their clothes to dry on the end of their bed and had put on their pajamas. 

They held one of their mothman plushies, Mothy, close. Trying to fall asleep. He still remembered the day the got Mothy from that gift shop, when he was only five years old.

“Hey Dad, can I get this?” 

“No daughter.”

“Pretty pretty please? With a cherry on top?”

“Alright fine- you can get it I guess.”

“Thanks Dad! You’re the best!”

“My poor insane daughter…” 

Dib had a pumpkin scented candle lit, Mothy smelled like pumpkins now. 

He wasn’t even sure where he got the candle, he had just found it in his closet one day and decided to light it.

Dib sat up and climbed down the small latter on the slide of their bed and blew out the candle. The stench of smoke filled their nose. 

Ew. Dib thought with a disgusted look on their face. They then climbed back in bed and stared at the glowing stars on their ceiling.

He then drifted off to sleep.

Dib awoke to the sound of birds singing, the sun light the room.

Dib sat up and rubbed the sleep from his eyes, his vision was blurry, he looked for his glasses which sat on the his nightstand.

There. That’s much better. Dib thought, then climbing out of bed to use the bathroom. 

Dib grabbed a towel from the linen closet and headed to the bathroom, he turned the faucet to the warm setting.

Dib fidgeted as they watched the tub fill with water. When will this tub be filled?! Dib questioned as they leaned over the tub. 

After five minutes, (which felt like an hour for Dib.) the tub was finally full. Dib poured in some bubble bath, then swishing it around with their hand, once the bubbles were to their liking, they got in. 

Dib soaked in the warm, refreshing water for about ten minutes before scrubbing himself. 

He was once again glad that it was only salt water that trigged a siren transformation. 

Once Dib was finished he rinsed himself off and dried off.

Dib had placed his coat in the garage to air dry the night before. 

Membrane was downstairs doing his laundry, however he noticed a strange stench coming from Dib’s coat.

Membrane grabbed the coat. It had the strong stench of fish and salt water.

Dib went in the garage, he was wearing a mothman shirt that was way too big for him and some pajama pants with ufo’s on them. He was also wearing some huge, ridiculous looking slippers.

“Hey son, why does your coat smell like fish?”Membrane asked. 

“Uh- no idea Dad!” Dib lied shakily. 

“Oh uh- okay?” Membrane replied awkwardly, unconvinced, then throwing the coat in the washer. 

Dib then walked to the kitchen, Tak and Gaz were eating some pancakes that Gaz had cooked. 

Dib was getting some cereal, he didn’t want to ask Gaz to make him pancakes. 

Dib poured the cereal in the bowl and added some milk and ate it. 

Gaz and Tak had went to the local convenience store near the beach, Gaz sipped on her blue raspberry and cherry suck monkey, Tak had gotten a poop cola flavored one.

The two of them stood in the parking lot. 

“I HAATEE YOOOOU DIIIIIB!!!!” Zim shouted as he chased Dib “SHUT UP ZIM! I HATE YOU MORE!” Dib shouted back.

“Ah yes, typical Zim and Dib behavior.” Gaz remarked as she rolled her eyes, then taking a dramatic sip from her suck monkey. “Mhm.” Tak hummed in agreement.

Zim and Dib then started punching and kicking each other “YEAH!!! YEEEAH!!! GET HIM!!!” Gir cheered as it obnoxiously slurped its suck monkey. 

Keef sat at the dinner table with his parents, they were having some lunch.

Keef stared down at his food, taking small bites.

I wonder that fish creature was… Keef wondered as he took a bite out of his chicken.

He wasn’t sure what kind of fish it was, it looked more human than fish, but it still was fishy enough to where it wasn’t exactly human either.

“Is something wrong Keef?” Keef’s mom asked, noticing the look on her son’s face.

Keef nodded. “I’m just thinking about that happened a few days ago.” They mumbled as they licked the chicken seasoning off their lips.

“You know how I told you about how that fish I was supposed to bring home a few days ago was stolen right out of my bucket?” Keef recalled, their parents nodded.

“Well… I’m still trying to figure out what creature it was. I don’t know of any marine animals with scaly hands like that, other than a salt water crocodile but those don’t live anywhere near here so I’ve ruled that out.” Keef adds. “Are you sure you weren’t seeing things?” Keef’s mom questioned. “I’m sure! I saw it with my own eyes!” Keef assured.

“Well. Hopefully you can figure out what stole your fish soon!” Keef’s dad said, Keef nodded in agreement.

Once Keef had finished his food he placed his dishes in the sink and grabbed a fishing pole, canoe and some fishing equipment.

After saying goodbye to his parents, he was off to the beach. 

Keef walked to the beach, wearing some sandals, a fishing hat, a button up shirt and denim shorts. 

Gaz and Tak still stood in the gas station parking lot, drinking the last of their suck monkeys, watching Zim and Dib fight.

Keef stopped in a his tracks, Zim and Dib were beating each other up.

“Hey! Guys! Please stop!” Keef pled, dropping his things and running towards Zim and Dib.

Keef pulled Zim off of Dib.

“Why can’t you two just get along? It’s like you guys always have to fight over something. Can’t you just be nice to each other for once?” Keef questioned.

Dib and Zim gave angry looks at each other, Zim let out a cat like hiss. Dib and Zim then went in different directions, Zim was going to grab a snack with Gir and Dib was heading to the beach.

“Hey I’m gonna go for a swim, see you in a bit.” Gaz said, Tak and Gaz waved to each other before Gaz ran over to the beach. 

“HEY WAIT FOR ME DIB!!!” Gaz shouted in between breathes. 

Once Gaz and Dib reached the beach, Dib took off his flip flops, the hot white sand burned beneath Dib’s bare feet. 

“Ouch!” Dib groaned “that’s why you keep your shoes on, dumbass.” Gaz jeered, then running off into the waves. 

“Hey wait up!” Dib called out, then running after his sister, the two disappeared into the waves.

Meanwhile, Zim and Keef walked to the convenience store, however Zim then noticed someone familiar.

Tak. 

Zim couldn’t believe it’s eyes. What was Tak doing there? 

Tak let out an angry hiss at the sight of Zim. 

“What do you want from ZIIIMM!!!” Zim demanded, crossing xyr arms as xe bit xyr lip. “I want nothing from you Zim.” Tak spat bluntly. “I’m only staying here because I’m not sure where to go next.” Mew adds as mew placed mew’s hands on mew’s hips.

“Yeah sure. I bet you want something from me. Don’t you? Like revenge?” Zim laughed. 

“Zim. How many times do I have to tell you that I hate you and that I want nothing to do with you.” Tak reminded him. “Zim, if Tak doesn’t like you, you should respect that. I think we should just go.” Keef advised.

Zim let out a defeated huff, “see you later Keef.” Zim said, glancing away from Tak and glancing at Keef.

Zim and Gir then started to walk back home. 

“Alright, bye Zim!” Keef replied, turning around. 

Keef went on his way to the beach. Once he arrived he pushed his canoe into water before climbing into his boat.

They began to paddle towards a good fishing spot.

Dib lurked below the surface, however, he saw the canoe again.

Keef was almost ready to cast the fish rod, until he saw someone familiar lurking below the surface. 

The creature. The creature that had stolen their fish.

They caught a glimpse of the siren’s face as it glanced over its shoulder.

Dib?! 

“Dib?” Keef gasped, not believing their eyes.

Dib froze, rolled over and looked up at Keef, with an anxious expression on his face. 

“P-please don’t tell anyone…” Dib stammered. Keef recognized something.

Wait a minute. Aren’t those the same scaly hands I saw when my fish was stolen? Keef questioned. They were.

“Hey… You stole my fish…” Keef frowned, Dib broke the surface of the water when they swam up. “Yeah… I didn’t know it was your’s… Not until I over heard you and Zim talking about it…” Dib admitted. 

Keef nodded, “I had no idea that was your’s at the time. All I saw was a bucket handle and I was hungry- “ Dib adds. “It’s okay I guess, just please don’t steal my fish again-“ Keef requested “understood.” Dib replied with a nod.

“What are you anyway? Are you merman or something?” Keef questioned. “I’m a siren, so is Gaz, we became sirens after I accidentally spilled some of our dad’s chemicals on us.” Dib explained. “Y-you’re not gonna e-eat m-my fl-flesh are you?” Keef stammered. 

“Nah of course not!” Dib assured “oh, alright, thank you.” Keef sighed of relief.

“Anyway uh- now knowing that fish was yours, I feel pretty bad about it… so you can this fish I caught if you want it..” Dib offered, pulling a salmon out of his pocket “Thanks!” Keef smiled, taking the fish out of Dib’s hand.

Mimi and Gir sat on the dock, they could see Keef and Dib in the distance.

Mimi and Gir had been talking for a few hours at this point. 

Mimi had a sad expression on her face.

She had gone quiet.

“What’s wrong?” Gir asked with a frown “I’m not sure if we can be friends Gir.” Mimi finally said, breaking the silence. “I mean- our master’s hate each other’s guts, I don’t think they’d be happy if they found out we hang out together…” Mimi adds. “Just because Tak and Zim hate each other doesn’t mean we have to! We can still be friends!” Gir assured, then hugging Mimi. 

“Thanks Gir, I needed that.” Mimi thanked, ignoring the stinky stench that reeked from Gir’s dog costume. 

“Anyway I brought cookies!” Gir cheered, whipping out the cookies, it and Mimi enjoying them. 

“What did you use in these? They taste really good!” Mimi giggled “Vanilla extract!” Gir smiled, licking the crumbs off its lips.