#here are just somethings that kind help me sometimes

[dduane]

I have been trying to write fic (well, smut) set in a world where certain things are slightly different to serve the fic's plot.

However, each time I try I have run into a problem: my head insists I need to justify the changes - I need to know comprehensive details about how the world works so I can ensure everything is consistent and not too f'd up.

So I get bogged down, and don't write a word. What do?

In your position, I’d sit down and write myself a bible.

This is how I did my prep for Barbie: Fairytopia.* And how I’ve done it for various works of fic presently on AO3… and how I’m doing it right now for the new Sherlock Holmes and the Giant Rats of Sumatra III project. I was taught this art by my animation story editors at Hanna-Barbera, and it’s stood me in good stead. (Peter and I pulled down our first miniseries assignment from a company that told us “we gave great bible.” And that was true.) 😄

When I say “bible” I don’t necessarily mean something that thick! (Though some of mine have been pretty hefty, with one TV project’s bible running more than a hundred pages… because I knew I had skeptical and underinformed TV execs to convince about something historical.) For the kind of purpose we’re describing here, your prep bible could be quite short: maybe looking like a bullet-pointed “shopping list”, five or ten pages long. It can be just as long or short as it needs to be to cover all your salient points.

The idea is simply to put down, in concrete form, a list of the main “different things” you need to know and remember about your alternate universe when you’re working in it. This is where you do your justification work, in as much or as little detail as you need to convince yourself you’ve got the necessary bases covered. The virtual “stage manager” who sits at the back of the theater of the Writing Department in your mind, judging when things are right, will be your guide here, and will advise you as to when you’ve got enough and it’s time to stop. And once this stuff is down on the page, you’ll be a position to judge critically whether everything makes enough sense to work with, and slots together correctly.

This is also a bit like (for the prose part of a project) outlining, in that it’s incredibly freeing. Once you’ve got this background nailed down, you know you can safely turn your attention away from it and get down to the serious business: drama, and the character interactions that express it. (And inevitably as you’re doing the bible writing, you start getting ideas for how the substrate you’re laying down is going to affect the conflicts between and among the characters. The bible stage can be incredibly fruitful this way.)

It would be facile to describe the bibling process as “getting the easy part over with first”. Because sometimes it’s not easy! But it’s worth doing first, because having done this first relieves you of the ongoing anxiety caused by knowing you may have to keep inventing or rationalizing stuff on the fly. (Which can produce the kind of micro-blocks that a writer can generally really do without.) …Not that you’re not going to be inventing things on the fly anyway: that’s a normal part of the writing process. But the biggest and most obvious issues will have been handled already, and you’ll know they have; which is always a weight off one’s mind. And the fewer of those weights you have loading you down, when you’re in the midst of the labor of composition, the better.

Anyway, give it a shot and see how it works for you. And then you can, like the rest of us smut writers, get on to the really pressing business: making sure you haven’t lost track of where all the characters’ arms and legs (and things) are when you’re writing those hot steamy sex scenes. 😏

Hope this helps!

*ETA: My remit on this job did include creating a bible for them. But I write a rough-draft one for myself first, including various meta that I needed but they didn't.

[billionairebratenergy]

Forever Sounds Good

Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: Bucky Barnes had been called a lot of things in his lifetime—soldier, assassin, hero—but when you called him your husband, everything else ceased to exist.

───────────────────────────────

The compound was quieter than usual, save for the occasional hum of voices from the common area. You and Bucky had settled onto the couch, your legs draped over his lap as you scrolled through your phone, the warm glow of the TV casting soft shadows across the room. His vibranium fingers traced absentminded patterns along your calf, a subconscious habit whenever he was near you.

It was peaceful. Domestic, even.

And then Sam walked in.

"Hey, lovebirds. You two gonna join the rest of us for movie night, or are you too busy being disgustingly in love over here?"

You smirked, not looking up. "Bucky, what do you think?"

Bucky, who had been perfectly content in his own little world, blinked up at Sam like he hadn't heard a single word you just said.

You tilted your head, waiting for him to answer. When he didn’t, you sighed dramatically and turned to Sam. "Guess my husband and I will have to think about it."

Bucky stiffened beneath you.

The silence stretched, and you glanced back at him, only to find him staring at you. Wide-eyed. Lips parted slightly.

He wasn’t breathing.

"Buck?" you prompted.

Still nothing.

Sam, who had been in the middle of making some smart-ass remark, paused and squinted at Bucky. "You good, man?"

Bucky swallowed thickly, jaw tightening, but the color in his face betrayed him. His ears were turning pink.

And then—he grinned.

Not his usual smirk. Not the teasing, cocky one he gave Sam when they were bickering. Not the polite one he sometimes gave strangers out of courtesy. No—this was something different. Something real.

It was soft. Shy, almost.

Like you’d just given him something precious and he wasn’t quite sure what to do with it.

"Yeah," he said finally, voice rough, but there was a warmth in his eyes that made your stomach flip. "Yeah, I’m good."

Sam narrowed his eyes, looking between the two of you like he was missing something. But when Bucky made no move to elaborate, he just scoffed. "Weirdo."

As soon as Sam was gone, you turned back to Bucky.

"What was that?" you asked, amused.

Bucky shifted beneath you, avoiding your gaze. "What was what?"

"Oh, I don't know. You looking like I just told you I was carrying your child or something."

He huffed out a breath, shaking his head, but that small, secret smile never left his face.

"Just wasn’t expecting it, is all," he murmured, almost to himself.

"Expecting what?"

His thumb brushed over your knee absentmindedly. "You calling me that."

Husband.

You bit your lip. "Did you not like it?"

His head snapped up. "No—God, no. I—I mean, it just caught me off guard."

You watched him for a moment, the way he fidgeted slightly, the way his grip on your leg tightened just a fraction.

"You’re still thinking about it, aren’t you?" you teased.

"Absolutely."

The way he admitted it so easily made your heart swell.

You leaned forward, resting your forehead against his. "Should I say it more often?"

His breath hitched.

He closed his eyes for a brief second, then exhaled, a little shaky. "You tryna kill me, doll?"

You grinned. "Not at all, husband."

His ears were definitely red now.

"Jesus," he muttered under his breath, but there was a kind of wonder in his expression that made you soften.

"Bucky Barnes," you whispered, brushing your nose against his. "Are you telling me you like the idea?"

His fingers curled around your wrist, holding you there.

"Wouldn’t mind it," he admitted.

It was quiet for a beat. Then:

"Wait, are you proposing right now?"

He laughed, the sound vibrating between you, and you couldn’t help but join in.

But later that night, as you lay tangled together beneath the covers, his fingers tracing over your ring finger absentmindedly, you wondered if maybe—just maybe—he was thinking about it just as much as you were.

⚝──⭒─⭑⚝──⭒─⭑⚝──⭒─⭑⚝──⭒─⭑⚝──⭒─⭑⚝──⭒

[ozwriterchick]

Anaesthetic..

Summary: A bit of fun when you come out of anaesthesia after an operation.

Characters: Bucky Barnes, Reader

No warnings

Word count: approx 1400

A/N: I'm heading to hospital tomorrow for my 2nd cancer surgery - a liver resection - and I have been wathcing alot of Tiktoks about anaesthesia and came across the funny ones when people are coming out of it, and it inspired this in my brain.

I hope you enjoy!

I appreciate each and every one of you.

Not Beta'd so any mistakes are my own.

Dividers by @firefly-graphics

Masterlist

It had been a long day for Bucky so far.  You’d had a 4am wake up call to be at the hospital by 6am.  He dropped you off like you asked and pretended to leave.  You had told him that you couldn’t see the need for him to hang around and suggested he go home and get some sleep while you were in surgery.

Bucky couldn’t imagine heboth you and’d be able to have any kind of restful sleep while you weren’t right next to him, so he bought a newspaper and sat in the hospital coffee shop reading and trying to concentrate on the crossword puzzle. 

Crosswords weren’t something he normally enjoyed but having sat beside you and helped you out with your daily “brain exercise” as you loved to call it, he found it now gave him some comfort.

You had listed him on your hospital admissions paperwork as next of kin so he knew they would call you as soon as the operation was done to let him know how you were.  He wanted to be close by, not because he could be of assistance if, god forbid, anything went wrong.  More so that he could see you as soon as you were able to have visitors.

Bucky had decided to take a walk, the crossword had frustrated him to no end because he didn’t have you beside him to answer the questions he always had when you both were trying to complete the puzzle.

There wasn’t much around this hospital but he found a couple of local shops where he picked up some things for you and then stumbled upon a park with a coffee cart, so he took the opportunity to relax with some nature and have a decent cup of coffee, not the stuff you normally get out of hospital vending machines.

He felt like he wasn’t there more than 15 minutes however, when his phone rang.  Looking down he saw it was a private number so he figured it was more than likely the hospital  It couldn’t have been anyone from the Avengers because he had their numbers saved, and he knew it wouldn’t be anyone calling from a landline at the tower because they all knew he was off today at the least for your surgery.

Picking up the phone and hitting the answer button, he braced himself for whatever was about to come next, good or bad.  “Hello?”

“Uh, good afternoon am I speaking to James Barnes?” the voice enquired.

“Yes, this is he, I mean that’s me, I mean yes, I’m James Barnes” he could hear the girl giggle quietly through the phone at his seeming inability to put together a coherent sentence.

“Well, I’m Sasha a nurse in the recover suite, we just wanted to let you know that Yn has come through the surgery perfectly, she is in recovery and you can come sit with her whenever you get here.”

“Oh that’s such a relief, thank you Sasha, I’m just down the street in a little park so I’ll be there in like 10 minutes or so” he confirmed for her.

“Oh, are you in Ventnor Park?  I love that place, sometimes if I can swing it I go there to eat my lunch.  Well, we’ll see you soon Mr Barnes” to which she hung up the phone before he could say any more.

He ditched his almost empty coffee cup in the nearby bin and started walking back to the hospital, eager to see you again, even though it had only been a few hours since he dropped you off.

As Bucky approached the recovery suite, he had to admit to himself that he was getting a little anxious about how you’d be after the anaesthesia and all, but he was very excited to see you again.

He pressed the button on the door to gain access and the nurse who came to open the door asked who he was here to see. 

“I’m James Barnes, I’m here for Yn Yln” he informed her quietly.

“Oh yes, Mr Barnes, come through, she’s in bed 7.  She’s still quite groggy but that’s totally normal.  I’ll grab a chair for beside her bed so you can sit there.”

“Thank you ma’am.  I appreciate that” he replied.

Moving down the row of beds he rounded the curtain towards you and stood at the end of your bed.  The nurse approached and quietly placed the chair beside your bed.  Bucky gave her a quick nod and sat himself down, reaching for your hand.

At the feeling of his hand in yours, you stirred.  Unfocused eyes roaming around the room, landing on him and widening dramatically in reaction.

“Oh, hi” you said to him.

“Hi Yn, how are you feeling?”

“Umm, ok.. I think, I’m not sure my brain is working properly yet.”

“No, you’ve only just woken up, it will take a while before you’re completely with it again.  They said the surgery went well so that’s a bonus”

“Oh, yeah, but you might have to tell me again later” she slurred a little when speaking but, again, it was totally understandable.

You drifted off again for a few minutes, opening your eyes and looking around again.  You noticed a handsome man sitting at your bedside.

“Oh my god! You are gorgeous” you say to him.

Bucky looks around, not realising you are talking to him at first.  “Umm, ok, well thanks, I’m glad you think so” he replied to you.

“No, I mean look at you, you look like a god” you exclaimed.

“Well, again, thank you, umm…” he stammered, blushing.  He looked for your nurse who just smiled and nodded that this was another normal thing for some people.

“I mean damn boy” you began. “If I didn’t have a boyfriend, I’d wife you up so quickly”

Bucky laughed “Well, that’s a shame that you have a boyfriend because I’d love to wife you up”

“Oh no, you can’t say those kind of things to me, I have a boyfriend!” you whisper yell the last part at him.

“Yes, I know you do, you told me that.  But can’t we have something as well?” he chucked again to himself, enjoying this side of you.

“Hmmm, I don’t think so.  You see, my boyfriend is very tall and muscly and very, very strong and I’d hate to see him mess up your pretty face.” You sighed.

“Well, we wouldn’t want that now, would we” he smiled.

“Nurse” you raised your voice.  Seeing her round the end of the curtain you asked “Did you call my boyfriend.  Do you know when he’ll be here?”

“Yes, I called him, in fact, he’s here already” the nurse replied.

You turn to Bucky “Oh no, you better go, he’s gonna get real mad if he comes in here and sees you holding my hand like this.”

Bucky just chuckled, this was hilarious and he knew if Sam were here he’d be filming this but he didn’t want you to be embarrassed later on if anyone saw it other than the 2 of you.

“Don't laugh, I mean it” you start crying.

“Oh baby” he said, concerned. “What’s wrong, why are you crying?” he couldn’t bear to see you upset and wanted to be able to fix it for you.

“No, it’s just my boyfriend is here and you’re here and I love him so much but you’re just so beautiful and I don’t want him to punch your face off.”

“Babe” Bucky began.

“No, you can’t call me babe, that’s what he calls me” you cry even harder.

“Yn, listen to me.  I am your boyfriend.  I’m James.”

“My boyfriends name is Bucky, you can’t be him because he’s coming here and you’re already here.”

“Trust me, my love, I am Bucky, I am also James, I am also your boyfriend and I think after this I have no choice but to wife you up like you said you’d do to me” he leaned forward and kissed your lips lightly and tenderly.

“Oh dear, now you’ve kissed me and… Wait, did you say you are my boyfriend?  How did I get so lucky to land someone like you?”

“Yes sugar, I am and we have forever to work out how I was so lucky to land you, not the other way around.  Now you lay your head back and relax so we can get the rest of this anaesthesia out of your system and back to reality.”

[goldfades]

Please more controversially young gf for sid🫶🏽🫶🏽

you ask, i deliver!! i hope u enjoy<3

You always joked about Sidney’s age.

Always chirped him about his back, his knees, the way he sometimes got up in the morning with a groan like he was a man twice his age. You teased him relentlessly, with little jabs like "Want me to grab your cane, Grandpa?" when he stretched too long after practice.

But when you saw him go down on the ice, nothing was funny.

Nothing at all.

You didn’t even register what had happened at first. One second, he was in the play, moving like he always did—fast, sharp, instinctual—and then the next, he was hit hard along the boards, his body crumbling in a way that was all wrong.

Your heart stopped. Literally stopped. Your breath caught somewhere in your throat, and suddenly, the crowd noise, the commentators, the sounds of skates slicing ice—it all faded into a dull, meaningless blur.

Because he wasn’t getting up.

Your hands clenched around the edge of your seat so tightly your knuckles ached. Time felt slow, unbearably so, like you were watching the worst moment of your life play out in slow motion. He was on his knees, then on his side, and there was a trainer already rushing out to him. But he wasn’t moving like he should be.

You felt sick. A tangible, horrible nausea that curled in your stomach and made your whole body feel cold.

Sidney was tough. Tougher than most. He had taken hits before, had gotten back up when no one else could. But this—this wasn’t right.

You barely noticed the people around you. Barely heard the fans murmuring, the worried whispers and sharp intakes of breath, the occasional muttered, "Shit, that looked bad."

All you knew was that your chest felt tight, too tight, like you couldn’t get a full breath in.

And then, finally, finally, he moved.

Slow. Careful. The kind of movement that told you it hurt like hell but he was too stubborn to let anyone see just how bad it was. He pressed his hand to the ice for support, his jaw clenched, his eyes set forward in that focused, determined way you knew so well.

It should have made you feel better. It didn’t.

Because you knew him.

You knew his pain tolerance was stupidly high, that if he wasn’t just popping up and skating back into the play, something was really, really wrong.

You didn’t even think before you moved. The second he was helped off the ice and down the tunnel, you were out of your seat, pushing through the rows, ignoring the way people turned to watch you. You didn’t care. Didn’t care that the cameras might catch you, didn’t care what social media would say, didn’t care about anything except getting to him.

Your pulse pounded in your ears as you made your way through the winding hallways of the arena, the path to the medical room too familiar by now. You had done this before, more times than you wanted to admit. But it never got easier.

The second you reached the room, you barely hesitated before pushing the door open.

And there he was.

Sidney sat on the exam table, gear still on, one skate unlaced, his posture stiff like he was bracing for bad news. His head snapped up the moment he saw you, and something in his face softened.

"You’re not supposed to be back here," he said, his voice rough but steady.

"Yeah, well," you exhaled, still trying to calm the pounding in your chest, "try and stop me."

And just like that, whatever resolve you had left crumbled.

You crossed the room in seconds, standing between his knees, your hands finding his face, tilting it up, searching. His helmet had been removed, his hair damp with sweat, his brow creased in quiet frustration.

"You scared the shit out of me," you admitted, your voice quiet, your thumbs tracing lightly over his cheekbones.

His lips twitched like he wanted to smile, but the pain in his eyes dulled it. "Didn’t mean to."

"You weren’t moving," you whispered. "I thought—I thought—"

Your throat closed up, and Sidney—ever steady, ever calm, even when he was the one hurt—reached for your wrist, grounding you with a squeeze.

"I’m okay," he murmured. "Just sore."

You didn’t believe him, not entirely, but he was looking at you like he needed you to, like he needed you to be steady for him.

So you nodded, exhaling shakily. "I’ll be the judge of that."

He let out a breath of amusement, the smallest hint of a smirk tugging at his lips. "That right?"

"Damn right," you said, shifting so you could press your forehead against his. "Now let me have my dramatic, emotionally charged moment, please."

Sidney huffed a soft laugh, closing his eyes for a second, letting you linger in the quiet. And when he finally spoke again, his voice was low, just for you.

"I’m glad you’re here."

And just like that, the tightness in your chest eased.

Because yeah, the world could speculate all it wanted. People could talk about the age gap, the controversy, the noise. But right now, in this small, fluorescent-lit medical room, none of it mattered.

Because you loved him.

And he loved you.

And at the end of the day, that was the only thing that ever would.

Sidney was not a good patient.

This was something you learned very quickly.

The second the team doctors gave him strict orders to rest, you knew it was only a matter of time before he started pushing it. Because he was Sidney Crosby��one of the most disciplined, regimented, "tough it out and get back on the ice" people to ever exist. He didn’t do rest. Didn’t do sitting still, didn’t do taking it easy.

Which meant you had to be the one to make him.

Lucky for him, you had absolutely no problem being a pain in his ass.

"Sit. Down."

You stood in the kitchen doorway, arms crossed, staring Sidney down as he very slowly tried to get up from the couch. He was still in sweats, fresh from a shower, his damp hair slightly messy in a way that would’ve been distracting if you weren’t so focused on keeping him immobile.

"I was just—"

"—going to sit your ass back down like the doctors told you," you finished for him. "Good call."

Sid exhaled through his nose, unimpressed. "I’m fine."

"You have a bruised rib," you reminded him, walking toward him and shoving him back down with one finger on his chest. "Which means no skating, no lifting, no ‘I swear I’m just stretching’—and definitely no trying to prove how tough and manly you are by walking around like a fully functional human when we both know you are not."

He just looked at you, lips twitching, because he was definitely entertained by the way you were talking to him.

"You enjoy this, don’t you?" he asked, voice tinged with amusement.

You scoffed. "Oh, so much." You pointed at him again. "Now stay there while I get your meds."

Sid obeyed, but you could feel his eyes on you as you moved around the kitchen, grabbing a glass of water and pulling his painkillers from the cabinet. You turned back to him, shaking two pills into your palm.

"Take these," you ordered, stepping back toward him.

He raised an eyebrow but took the pills from your hand. "I could do this myself, you know."

"Could you, though?" you mused, tilting your head. "Because from where I’m standing, it looks like you’re a very injured man who should probably stop arguing with his extremely generous, very beautiful, highly intelligent, and endlessly patient nurse."

Sid let out a slow, amused breath, shaking his head. "Highly patient, huh?"

You handed him the water, watching as he swallowed the meds, and then took the glass back when he was done. "Unbelievably patient," you confirmed. "Practically saintly."

Sid didn’t reply, just watched you with that look—the one where his lips curled slightly, his eyes softened, and you knew, knew, that if he weren’t injured, he’d be pulling you into his lap just to shut you up.

Instead, he settled for reaching out and grabbing your hand, his thumb brushing over your knuckles. "Thanks for taking care of me."

You shrugged, sitting on the couch next to him, curling up so your legs tucked under you. "Someone has to make sure you don’t do anything stupid."

He hummed, shifting slightly to get comfortable. "Don’t I have trainers for that?"

"Yeah, but I’m meaner," you pointed out. "And I have better hair."

Sid chuckled, tilting his head toward you, his expression easy and fond. "Can’t argue with that."

You smirked, leaning your head against his shoulder, being careful not to press against the bruised side of his ribs. "Damn right you can’t."

And despite everything—despite his injury, despite the way you knew he hated being sidelined—Sidney relaxed. Because this? This was what made it all okay.

Even if you were bossy. Even if you were slightly unbearable in full nurse mode.

You were his. And that made every moment—every ridiculous, slightly bitchy, very loving moment—worth it.

[ateez-himari]

250214; FATED VALENTINES

[NEW MESSAGES FROMM HIMARI]

[AM 8:13] Early date in Copenhagen before going to see our Tiny ♡ I get to be sappy about my boyfriend today and you guys can't tell me anything about it ㅎㅎ

[AM 8:14] Mingi oppa hasn't told me where we're going, he always does this when he's the one planning our dates. The only information I got out of him was that we're going to a flower shop at some point 🤭Didn't take much prying though

[AM 8:15] We matched very well this year! We started dating after valentine's day so this is only our second one together, but since the first one we agreed that we'd choose each other's outfits, I wasn't expecting this dress though!

[AM 8:15] He styled my hair too! Well he tried...I had to help him a little bit, he has long fingers but he doesn't really know what to do with them sometimes

[AM 8:16] His hands are very big, yes ㅎㅎ It surprises me too sometimes, the size difference is very nice when it's cold, my hands can just hide in his, like gloves

[AM 8:17] Nope, the second picture was my idea, the first one was his. He wanted to make it look like some kind of royal portrait, just less official

[AM 8:17] Ahh no they're not engagement rings, it wouldn't be on my index if it was, but we both designed them together not that long ago

[AM 8:18] We also have a special surprise for those coming to the concert today! It's nothing too insane, we just changed the 'Addict' stage slightly to be more romantic, 'Shadow' felt too dark to perform on the day of love

[AM 8:20] stop keeping my girlfriend from me on this special day, we have a date to get to 😠 you guys can have her to yourselves tonight (you won't)

[AM 8:21] (1 video attachment) here you go, you can have a video of me asking her to be my valentine, special gift for you guys, better than chocolate

[AM 8:22] it won't be the only time that i get on one knee to ask her something 😉 now if you'll excuse me and my beautiful angel, we'll see everyone tonight

[AM 8:24] Mingi oppa is pouting at the fact that you guys are taking all my attention away from him, so we're heading out now ♡ Love you so much, kisses!

[distracted-milkshake]

Like ‘Em Weird - Steven Grant x reader

Warnings: bri’ish reader, non explicit sex, snogging tf out of Steven, general embarrassment, slight jerk Marc

Words: 4k

Rating: M

Summary: A fast moving relationship halts abruptly when the cute guy you met at a cafe wakes up a completely different person.

or

How you helped Steven figure out his body has multiple tenets, and that he doesn’t mind sharing it it’s you

I haven’t actually finished Moon Knight, so any inconsistencies or straight up false stuff is on me. Other guy isn’t here because I haven’t met him yet

Whipping up 1-5k oneshots while I can't get even ten in on my wip is such a me thing it's not even laughable anymore

Also! I have read a lot about DID and talked with friends who have it, and the portrayal of the reader does not represent kind or correct treatment of people with such issues at all, just wanted to be clear that I as the author know that and this isn’t any sort of handbook

AO3 link

“You gonna talk to me or just keep staring?” 

Steven blinks, immediately feeling his hands and cheeks go hot. 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t realize I was staring–!” He quiets as you stand and drag your metal chair the few feet across the cafe patio to his table, plopping into it. 

“Hi.” He murmurs, eyes dropping to his lap as he wrings his hands. 

”Hey,” You reach your hand over the table, flashing a smile, introducing yourself. 

“Steven Grant.” He shakes it, adjusting in his seat.

“No worries, by the way. I never know how to start a conversation either.” 

“I am so sorry, really, I hadn’t noticed. I uh, I don’t do that, I swear, I was just sort of spaced out.” He sucks in a breath and lets it out slowly, running a hand through his hair to get it off his face. “I don’t usually see a lot of pretty girls around, not ones that I find pretty– well, I mean there’re plenty of pretty girls, just not as– you just…” he swallows, wishing he could sink far enough into his chair to disappear from the face of the Earth. 

“God I wish I could start over.” He says. 

“This conversation, or since you started staring?” 

“My life at this point.”

“Take as long as you need.” You grin. 

“My name’s Steven, I work in a gift shop.” 

“At the museum?” 

“Yeah,” he nods, sitting up straighter. 

“I knew it, I’ve seen you before! I love that place.” 

“Ah! Me too! It’s ahm, probably about my favorite place in the world.” 

He goes off about something having to do with history, half of which you don’t quite follow, but you listen anyway. 

He tells you about several different exhibits from the museum he works at, stuff that isn’t on the little plaques, going on tangents here and there about the origins of popular misconceptions. 

“…and that’s just off the top of my head; numerous examples of it.” He takes a sip of his coffee, suddenly seeming to realize something. 

“Shit. Im sorry, I’ve been talking entirely too much. You want to tell me about you?” 

“No, it’s cool, I get it.” You laugh. “You read a lot.” 

“Oh loads, anything that interests me, I love books.” 

“Music's my thing.” You say. 

“Oh, do you play?” 

“Nah, I collect. CDs mostly, vinyl sometimes.” You finish your drink, setting your cup aside. 

“I’d love to get into it, but I should be going. Do you wanna get dinner sometime?” You ask. 

“Yeah,” he nods and you pull out your phone, handing it to him to put his number in.

“I’m vegan, but anywhere you like is fine though. Saturday work?” He says. 

“Saturday’s brilliant.” You click your phone closed when he turns it back to you, tucking it back in your pocket. 

“Brilliant.” 

“I’ll call you with the place. See ya then.” 

“See ya.” 

Saturday rolls around, and you get off the bus to a lovely little Indian place with a bounce in your step. 

You had double checked thy had plenty of vegan options, spending the last few days trying and failing not to text Steven every half hour. 

“Sorry! I got put on inventory again.” Steven huff as he bounds up to you, making you feel a little silly as he’s all dressed up. 

“You’re right on time actually. I just came early.” 

“Oh, thank goodness.” He says, exhaling heavily and straightening his back. 

He holds up a “Um, these are for you.” 

“Oh my God.” You smile, taking them from him and turning them over. 

“I hate flowers, but that has got to be about the sweetest thing anyone has ever done for me.” 

“Sorry, I’ll uh, I’ll remember that.” 

“Nothing to be sorry about, I appreciate it. Shall we?” You gesture to the restaurant door. 

“Oh– Of course,” Steven sidesteps to hold open the door for you, and you both head in. 

Seated with your food on the way, you look your date up and down expectantly, to which he sets his drink down and explains. 

“I am keeping my mouth sealed unless spoken to. Even if it means I’m staring.” He jokes at the end with a smirk. 

“Sure you’re going to be able to stick to that?” You tease, taking a long sip from your mango lassi. 

“Sure am. Talk to me.” 

So you do. 

You tell him all about where your from, your favorite band, the kinds of movies and shows you like, and he chimes in with his own, careful not to dominate the conversation with his preferred topics, which as much as you love the sound of his voice, you’re grateful for. 

“You know there’s something special about you maybe.” He says when you’re about finished with your meal. “I feel like I just click with you. Is that weird?” 

“No, it’s not weird.” You shake your head, meeting his eyes. “That’s not weird at all.” 

You walk with him down the street, hands in your pockets from the slight chill, but keeping close enough your arms are almost touching. 

It’s quiet, and it’s a comfortable quiet, but you can’t help but feel nagged at by a lack of something. 

You come to an intersection, and Steven turns to you. 

“Well, thank you, for going out with me.” You take him in, framed in the streetlight, messy hair and nice clothes, pretty eyes catching the light. 

“I hope you have a great rest of your night–” 

You push him against the brick wall of the building closest and catch his lips in a kiss, startling him as his hands hover over your shoulders, then your arms, before finding your back and waist, pulling you close. 

He kisses back confidently at first, then out of sync, then trying to pull away, saying something muffled. 

“Good?” You break the kiss to ask, wetting your lips. 

“Yeah. S’prised me’s all.” He says, breathing heavy. “I just wanted to say I think you’re gorgeous.” 

You pull him back into it with almost feverish urgency, pushing your tongue past his lips and to the roof of his mouth where you find his and press and move against it roughly, hand finding the back of his head to tilt just enough to have the perfect angle to explore. 

You recede to let him breathe and Steven catches a dribble of spit with the back of his hand, looking mortified as he having no where else wipes in on his coat. 

You bite your tongue to keep from laughing, wiping his bottom lip with your thumb. 

“Sorry,” he mumbles. “Sorry that’s gross, I dunno if I’ve ever been kissed like that, I’ve no idea how,” he wipes his lips again. 

“It’s not like movies. Very, very wet.” 

“You talk a lot for someone who stares.” 

“In the restaurant. Out here I’ve dropped it now. You know I don’t know if I want to be remembered as that guy in your head.” 

“Something else, then?” 

“I’m cool with gift shop guy.” He says as you give him lighter pecks on the mouth. 

“Much better than spaced out Steven.” You giggle, tracing his cheekbone around back to his ear and down his beck, letting your thumb slip under his collar as you press your forehead against his. 

“Yeah well, I find it hard to get a good night’s sleep.” 

“I’d like to get a good one with you.” 

“Hmnn?” His eyes flit to your lips and then back up to yours, bewildered. 

“Oh, oh you mean!” He pulls back and gives an enthusiastic nod, a wide smile on his face.

“Hells yeah.” 

“I like your apartment,” Steven says under his breath between dizzying kisses in your entryway, watching you alternate between his throat and kissing him with utter fascination, unsure how to keep up or what to do with just how expertly you’re making him fall apart. 

“You haven’t seen it yet.” 

You pull him by the wrist through your living space, past the couch to your bedroom, where you shut the door and shuck off his jacket. 

“Do you have a condom?” He asked before you can devour any attempts he has at talking again with your mouth. 

“Yeah, one sec.” You dig around in your nightstand drawer, pulling one out and turning back to give Steven a gentle shove onto the bed, climbing atop him and undoing his buttons with your free hand. 

“I can’t believe this is really happening,” Steven says when you finish with his top and strip off your own, tearing the condom open and sitting back on your haunches. “This is unbelievable.” 

You grab him by the chin, making his heart skip a beat. “Let’s aim for unforgettable.” You say. 

Steven lays on his back, hands on his chest, having finally caught his breath. 

“That was lovely.” He says. 

“Lovely?” You repeat, stretching your spine, side eying him. 

He turns on his elbow you look at you. “Lovely. Amazing. Mind blowing. All of the above.” 

“Been awhile?” You chuckle, tracing his collarbone to his shoulder before hooking your arm over it. 

“You have no idea.” As lost in your eyes he is, he pulls away to check the time, sitting up. 

“I um, I should get back to my apartment,” he moves to get off the bed, and you sit up after him, catching his wrist. “Hey wait. Don’t be ridiculous, stay.”

“No, I uh…” Steven stops himself, not wanting to mess this up. If he told you he had some weird sleep condition, that he literally bolted himself to his bed to sleep every night for fear of missing hours or waking up places he didn’t recognize, he was certain that was the kind of thing that would scare you off. 

That look you're giving him, that half lidded, cocksure smile, still topless and not even trying to cover it, it’s convincing enough on its own. 

“That’d be just fine. Yeah. Yeah okay.” He relaxes back into the bed and you lean up and kiss him. 

“Great.” You murmur, pulling him in and tugging the covers back over you. 

Maybe just one night would be fine. 

Marc wakes up in an unfamiliar room, with an unfamiliar woman in bed next to him.

You stir, burrowing your face into the pillows before you feel the bed spring back, blinking your eyes open and pulling yourself up just enough to see him retrieving his clothes from the floor. 

“Hey, no rush, it’s Sunday, come ‘ere.” 

“I’m sorry, you seem nice and all, but I was not supposed to wake up here.” 

“What happened to your accent?” You laugh humorlessly, brow knitting. 

“Accent? Jesus, I don’t have time for this, I’ve got to be in Madripoor in like two hours, that idiot was supposed to be back at his apartment.” 

He gathers up the rest his things as he mutters to himself. “Yeah yeah I know, I can get to the justice after I get back to his apartment and sort things out there. I swear if this is what gets him… yes. Of course I’m grateful. I will handle it.” 

“Hey, wait!” You pull a t-shirt and pajama pants on, following him into your living room, but by then he’s already got his shoes on. 

He opens and struts right out your front door without another word, slamming it behind him. 

Monday afternoon you take your lunch break to head down to he museum, stomping right up and into the corner gift shop, where sure enough, Steven sits twiddling a pen while he reads. 

He sets aside both when he sees you, smile falling when he sees your face. 

You plant your palms and lean directly over the counter, huffing. 

“Hey, you know I really can’t believe I fell for your shy soft boy act, you pull that on everyone? Or was I just ‘special’ enough to catch your attention?” 

“What? I– what are you talking about– hey!” He jumps up from his seat as you push back from the counter, folding your arms. 

“I mean what on Earth is wrong with you!” You stare him down as he rounds his station to speak with you. 

“Hey, whatever I said, I’m sorry? I don’t– I didn’t mean it– will you please tell me what you are talking about?” 

“You jerk. Can you go one minute without lying? Rhetorical, because you obviously can, if it’s convenient to getting in my pants. God! I can’t believe I slept with you.” 

“You slept with me?!” He exclaims, hunching over as a couple passerbys give him looks, making you roll your eyes. “Holy shit, I thought I dreamt that.” He says mostly to himself, tugging at the hair behind his ear. 

You look at him, jittery, wrinkled clothes, chewing at his thumbnail. 

“Are you high?” You ask, tilting your head to get a better look at his face, trying to make out if it’s a bruise or just bags under his eyes. 

He quickly shakes his head. “No, no-no-no, I-I don’t do pills or anything. I mean, maybe I should, to be honest– but I’ve never done drugs of any kind.” 

You throw up your hands. “Why would I believe you after yesterday!” 

“Yesterday? Why– What happened yesterday.” 

“Unbelievable. You know, you aren’t worth this. Don’t text me anymore.” You turn to the door, but his whirls around you in a panic, blocking you. 

“Wait! Wait, please. Look I don’t know what happened the other night, but I assure you that's not me, I’m not like that, I would never say stuff like that, I’d never use you, I like you! I really like you, and I don’t want to never see you again.” 

You study his expression, torn between how completely devoid of any sort of dishonesty it looks, paired with how desperate his tone is, and just who you remember walking out of your apartment. 

“You’re acting completely different now.” You shake your head, hanging it and letting out a long sigh before looking back up at him, which you immediately regret because he has the saddest puppy eyes you’ve ever seen. “I have to get to work. If you think you can explain to me just what the hell is going on with you, meet me at the park at six thirty, I’ll… I’ll hear you out.” 

“Thank you,” he folds his hands, needing to shout after you as you make to leave. “I won’t let you down, I promise!”

You give a dismissive wave as you head out museum's front doors. 

“…and that’s all I know, I swear.” You’re seated on a bench in the park. By now the sun has set, and the lights are the only illumination with a cloudy night sky. 

“I believe you.” You sigh, letting the leg you’d been sitting on down from the bench to stretch. “How often does this happen?” 

“Most nights. I’ve been trying not to sleep because of it.” 

You shake your head. “Why the hell haven’t you gone to a doctor?” 

“Because I can sort it, it’s fine. You go to a doctor if you're sick, I’m not sick.” He fiddles with his hands, realizing your looking at them he smoothes them down his pants and keeps them on his knees. 

“Sleepwalking isn’t sick. It-it’s just like, stress, or something.” Even saying it aloud he didn’t believe it, but what was the alternative? That he was legitimately mad? 

“Steven, look at me. You need to get help for this. That's mental. It’s not normal. Tell me you’ll get help.” 

“I’ll look into it.” He scratches at his 

You frown. “And mean it. You need help.” 

“I mean it, I will get help.” He nods when you put a hand over his, pulling him into a side hug. 

“Thank God.” You murmur. 

Two months later, you and Steven are kind of dating. 

Though your relationship had taken a big step back, you still texted and called him frequently. You didn’t feel like you could bring yourself to getting any closer, not when you still didn’t know who you had woken up in bed with. 

Today he’s over for tea, on your couch with his hands folded, helping himself to the biscuits you put out. 

You come back from putting the water on, stuffing a couple cookies in your mouth before he can eat them all. 

“Oh! I erm, I got you a copy of that new CD from that band you like.” Steven digs around in his bag, pulling out a still wrapped album, handing it to you. 

“Holy cow.” You scoff as you take it. 

It was the newest release from your favorite band, and had been sold out everywhere for more than two weeks. 

“I can’t believe you remembered. I’m putting this on right now.” You pop on the stereo, slow rock jams filling the apartment as the water boils and you bring the pot to the table, filling Steven’s cup. 

“So how are you doing?” You ask. 

“Oh, mostly good. I still haven’t figured him, Marc, out much, but I am sleeping better.” 

“You figure out just what ‘he’ is yet.” 

“No, still no diagnosis. I’m having trouble finding a therapist I like. I also, you know, not keen on institutionalization.” 

“Right. Well I mean so long as he doesn’t decide to go on some break.” You grimace, wondering what the hell he could’ve had been up to in Madripoor of all places, if he’d even been serious. 

“Beg your pardon?” 

“Never mind.” You give your hand a wave.” I still can’t believe I’m how you found out.” 

“Hey now hang on, I knew, I just didn’t know why.” He stands up to be at your height, annoyed. 

“Or how, or what.” You give him a look. 

“Yeah. But I did know.” He shrugs. “Even though he was trying to keep it from me.” 

“Well yeah, probably because you’re the nice one. Marc is a prick.” 

“The hell did she just say about me!?” Marc growls, catching his eye in his reflection in your tea kettle. 

Steven blinks. “He didn’t like that.” 

You draw your brow, frowning. “He can hear me?” 

“Apparently? I don’t get most of it myself, I didn’t think he could hear me till like last week.” 

You push off the back of the couch. “Tell him to come out here and talk to me right now.” 

“Uh, right, sure, yeah. Marc, you heard her.” He closes his eyes, taking a deep breath. 

When he opens them again, you slap him across the face. 

He cups his cheek, turning to look at you. “Still Steven!” 

“Shit– I’m sorry!” You cover your mouth. 

“You were going to smack him? But that’s me!” 

“I thought– I didn’t think it through, really. Is he not there?” 

“I can’t really make him come out, he just kind of does it if I let him.” 

“I’m sorry I hit you.” You say. 

“No,” he shakes his head. “He totally deserves it. Prick is right on the money.” 

“Even so, I shouldn’t have done that.” 

“Already better.” He smiles. “Though a kiss wouldn’t hurt…” 

You raise a brow and smile, pressing a kiss to his cheek. 

You hang out a while longer before heads home, leaving you to think. 

“I want to date her too.” 

“What?” Steven looks up at his mirror from across the room. “You won’t tell me where you’ve been pissing years of my life away, what you’ve been doing, but now you want to meddle with the one good thing that’s happened to me, after you nearly screwed it all up? That’s rich.” 

“I didn’t want much of anything to do with her until I saw the way she slapped you, I mean, that was unexpected.”

“She’s for sure, isn’t she? All the more reason you will not seeing her unless she asks.” 

“Let me talk to her or I’ll break up with her.” 

“We’re not together…ish. I don’t know, it’s not the simplest.” 

“I’ll ghost her. Delete her contacts. You know I will.” 

“Alright! Okay, fine. Jesus.” 

He picks up his phone. “Don’t you negotiate in anything but threats?” He starts to dial your number, then stops. 

“Hang on… you’re jealous, aren’t you?” 

“I’m sorry?” 

“You're jealous I have a girlfriend and you don’t. And she doesn’t talk nicely about you.” 

“I’d stop talking now.” 

“Holy shit, that’s hilarious. You act like you think my life is boring, but you envy it.” 

Marc glares at him, jaw working. 

“I’ll tell you what, I will set you up, but you have to tell me what you’ve been doing, and where you've been taking me.” 

“Khonshu’s not gonna like that.” 

“Again with bloody Khonshu. You’re flipping bending over backwards for that fool. Figure it out, cause that’s that.” 

“Fine.” 

“Perfect. Done deal.” 

He hits dial. “Hey so uh, Marc wants to meet you. Properly. I’ve told him he needs to apologize.” Marc rolls his eyes but doesn’t say anything. “Right. Yeah. Can you meet me?” 

“This… Marc the Merc, the pissy one?” You say, looking him over. You’d met Steven not far from the museum, and held his hand while he relaxed and let Marc take over. 

“Yes, it’s me again. Hi.” You meet his eyes, feeling oddly bothered by just how the same they look. It’s Steven, but it’s not. 

It’s painfully not him, and yet you can’t put into words how. 

“Hey,” you say, not sure what else you’re supposed to. 

“Let’s get this part out of the way: I’m sorry I walked out on you. It’s Steven’s fault we were there at all, and I had shit to attend to, but I was less than curt about it.” 

“Accepted, if that’s the best I’m going to get.” You nod, and he gestures for you to walk with him, so you do. 

“I haven’t been keeping tabs. What’s he been telling you about me?” He says. 

“Not a lot. I mean, he barely knows you, and neither do I.” 

“There’s not a lot to tell. He’s not supposed to be tangled with my life, but, since he is, I figure we might as well share.” 

You stop, and he does too. 

“What?” He says. “I’m willing to be more open if you are.” 

“What are you talking about? Are you saying you want to get with me?” 

“Would you like to?” 

He looks you right in the eyes, catching you off guard. Before you can answer he cups your face and kisses you, arm around your lower back, nearly lifting you off the ground. 

You pull away, eyes wide, breath ragged, trying to get your brain to catch up with your body, realizing you're right in the street where everyone can see you. 

“Too much?” He asks. 

“No,” you shake your head. “Just– just surprised me.” It’s quiet for a moment. 

“His apartment’s not far,” he finally says. “If you wanna see just how much of a prick I am.” 

You stare up at your boyfriend’s apartment ceiling, wondering what the hell you’ve gotten yourself into. 

You turn when you hear footsteps coming back to the bed. 

“Hi,” he gives you a little wave, holding out a cup of tea. 

You sit up on your elbows, slowly taking it. “Steven?” You say tentatively. 

“Yep, it’s me.” You stand up, throwing back half the cup and setting it aside, swallowing. “Everything go okay?” He asks.

You nearly knock him over in a hug, burying your face into his shoulder. 

“Better than okay,” you say, smiling against his bare skin. 

“Really? Oh, Gods, that's a relief.” He wraps his arm around you, pressing his nose to the top of your head. 

“Marc was different than I thought.” 

“Now we’re even, he said he’d cooperate with me some more, so I think it all works out?” 

“I love you. Both of you.” 

“Really? It’s not too weird?” 

“Hey,” you press a kiss to the bridge of his nose. “I like ‘em weird.” 

Even though you had next to no idea what was to come, between you, Steven, and Marc, you were confident you would figure it out.

[dulcescorderitas]

Hi it's me again lovely~ 💜 I hope you are keeping well! It's 34 Celsius here and upon (re)discovering Supernatural was mostly filmed across Vancouver in Canada, we never really get to see the boys have any summer moments!

So in my thirst and need for distraction, could I please request that after finishing up a case the boys and reader are just trying to cool down after an unexpected heatwave?

Dean managed to put some sodas on ice in the cooler box since alcohol of any kind would just result in a headache. Reader on the other hand, has surprised them with ice lollies, and while it's a thoughtful idea with the motel's aircon being packed up, Dean is still getting pretty damn hot watching reader suck an ice lolly (innocently, of course... 😈) so he decides to go on an evening walk.

Thank you again for your previous piece, I look forward to reading this one too! ✨

the sun was relentless, bearing down in waves that shimmered off the cracked asphalt of the motel parking lot. the impala sat there like a beacon of heat, metal too scalding to touch, its black paint drinking in the late afternoon sun. inside the room, the little wall-mounted aircon had given up sometime around noon, leaving nothing but a weak, useless hum and the occasional splutter of warm air.

"this is actual hell," dean groaned, sprawled out on one of the lumpy motel beds. his shirt was rucked up, exposing sweat-slick skin, and he had one hand lazily draped over his face like that might somehow shield him from the oppressive heat.

sam, ever the practical one, was perched in the rickety chair by the window, flipping through lore books like the heat didn’t bother him. it did, though—his hair was sticking to his forehead, and he kept fidgeting like he couldn’t quite get comfortable.

"could be worse," sam offered, flipping a page. "at least we’re not dealing with heatstroke."

dean let out a humorless laugh. "speak for yourself. my brain is melting."

the only saving grace was the cooler box by the bed, filled with ice and a handful of sodas. alcohol was out of the question—heat like this and beer would just end in dehydration and a monster of a headache. he fished out a can, pressing it against his neck before cracking it open.

then you walked in, and dean nearly choked on his first sip.

"okay, so," you announced, holding up a plastic bag like it contained the holy grail, "since the AC is officially dead and we're all about to combust, i got us a little something."

dean squinted at the bag, too heat-drunk to process anything past the glisten of condensation on your skin and the way your tank top clung to your chest. then you pulled out the ice lollies, bright and colorful and practically glowing with promise.

"oh," sam said, perking up. "nice."

you tossed him one, then made a show of tearing the wrapper off yours with your teeth before sliding the frozen treat past your lips. dean had to look away—except he really, really didn’t.

you were just trying to cool down, nothing more, but god help him, the way your tongue darted out to catch a stray drop of melted juice? the way your lips wrapped around the ice like you were savoring it? he felt sweat bead at the back of his neck, and it had nothing to do with the weather.

he shifted, clearing his throat. "gonna take a walk."

sam glanced up from his book. "dude, it's still like ninety degrees out."

"yeah, well." dean grabbed another soda from the cooler and popped the tab. "figured it'd be cooler once the sun starts going down."

the truth was, he just needed to get the hell out of there before he said or did something stupid. watching you enjoy that ice lolly with such innocent obliviousness was short-circuiting his brain in ways he didn’t have the bandwidth to deal with.

he shoved his free hand into his pocket and stepped outside, walking toward the impala and hoping the evening breeze would do something—anything—to cool him the hell down.

taglist: @iloveeveryoneyoureamazing @legalmente-loca @bluemerakis @whisperingdaze @cherrygirlfriend @figthoughts @sunsbaby @ambiguous-avery @sunnyteume

[midnight-mourning]

Only Place Worth Being

Little something for one of my Secret Valentine's! Hope you enjoy Ben, one of my fav love songs is a bit angsty, but I promise is all works out in the end <3

Song rec: Cold Cold Man - Saints Motel

Word Count: 2302

💘💘💘💘💘💘💘💘💘💘💘💘💘💘💘💘💘

You sigh, feeling defeated as you set the vase back down on the desk. All day, you'd waited for any kind of acknowledgement. A thank you, a nod, even just a passing glance. 

Nothing. Nothing at all.

Another gift, another failed attempt. 

And on Valentine's, at that. 

You take one of the flowers out, twisting it between your fingers. 

Maybe flowers weren't their thing? Though, that implied that neither were cards, stuffed animals, art supplies, and—okay yeah maybe this was a pattern. 

Maybe gift-giving wasn't their love language? They always accepted gifts from the children without hesitation, fawning over them and the likes. Proudly announcing their joy at receiving something so lovely, and displaying it for all to see somewhere in the Daycare. Could it really just be all an act? 

You try to reason with yourself more and more as you set the flower back. You felt bad that they'd go to waste, and almost considered taking them home with you, but that just felt… pathetic. And rude. 

You need to face the facts; they just didn't love you like you did them. 

They didn't love you at all, for that matter.

You've tried everything to tell them when it came to your side. Hinted at it, joked about it, did everything except outright say the words. And the only reason you hadn't done that was because you felt almost certain of the rejection that would occur. 

So, you tried for the most part to keep your feelings to yourself, only letting slip ups like this happen once in a blue moon. A moment of weakness, a moment of 'what if'. Though you've yet to have that happen. 

You know they tolerated you, you think you were friends at the very least. 

They would tease you, make you laugh, and so on. You worked well together, be that keeping the kids corralled for arts and crafts, or for naptime. You'd spent many a night working late cleaning up, chatting, flirting. Or at least, you'd thought so.

"Sunshine, could you help me clean this table please?" Sun would ask, more than capable of doing it on his own. 

But you'd oblige with a smile and a nod, heart racing every time your hands brushed against each other. Seemingly too many times to just be 'incidental'. 

"Starlight, sit and read this with me, I want to make sure it's something the children will enjoy." Moon insisted, pulling you into his lap where you'd stay until he deemed otherwise. 

But during the day it was almost the complete opposite. They were professional, to the point. Conversational, but brief. Their laughter at your jokes not quite as full, more nervous, or hollow. 

It almost made you feel like you were going crazy, getting the most mixed signals of your life. Maybe that's why you hadn't given up until this point. You always somehow managed to get drawn back in. 

A bout of excited yelling from further in the Daycare interrupts your melancholic thought process. You see Sun is busy with several of the remaining kids, acting out some sort of scene with them as a distractor while they wait to be picked up. 

You lean back against the security desk, sad smile on your lips as you observe. They'd make someone very happy one day, you think. It just wasn't going to be you. 

You needed to finally accept that. 

Sometime a bit later, as you're packing up your bag, your phone rings. Taking a glance you see it's your manager. You answer, not thinking as you're digging in your bag for your keys. 

"Hey." She says. 

"Hey." You reply. 

She sighs, you can hear the tap of a pen. "I got your file pulled up here. Talked to the manager over in rockstar row and they said they're happy to have an extra set of hands if I've got 'em. I just wanted to double check with you before I make any changes."

You cringe at her words, as if you hadn't been expecting them, or this call. You wanted this. You asked for it. You couldn't seriously be upset that you'd gotten exactly what you had asked for. Deal with it now or suffer the consequences later.

It had been the only way, you'd argued. Your little crush was affecting your day to day, and theirs. It wasn't fair to keep pushing when they weren't going to give. And if you stayed here you'd just feel like a burden, and that's the last thing you wanted. You decided that you'd still do your best to remain friends, maybe hang around and offer guidance and the likes to whoever took your place.

"I, yeah, give me a second,"—you still can't find your keys, now confused and frustrated—"I can't seem to find my—"

A jingling sound from behind you stops you in your tracks. And just as you turn around to find yourself face to chest with a yellow torso do you hear the 'call ended' noise go through your phone. 

Only then do you realize you'd been on speaker. 

Your eyes slowly move up, meeting Sun's gaze after a moment. 

His smile is as static as always but his eyes are narrow slits that sear into you. You shift your focus slightly to the left to see your keys spinning around his finger. He clears his nonexistent throat and your focus goes back to him. 

No point in beating around the bush. "Um, I was… going to tell you guys. Once it was for sure going to happen. Didn't think you'd take my keys as punishment." The joke is a bust and you know it, especially given his entirely unwavering gaze. 

"Oh, Sunbeam. We took your keys much earlier today, for a different reason entirely." He suddenly bends to your level, rays ticking to the side. "But now, I think I'll be keeping them. Because an explanation is in order."

You think you'd find him intimidating in that moment, but building off your earlier feelings—and all the others you've kept in for so long—all you find is anger and frustration pouring forth. 

"I'm the one who owes an explanation? What about you? What about the both of you and this… game you've been playing with me?" You stand straight, poking a finger into his chest as he jumps back from the touch. It only fuels your fire. "I just, I can't get you. Can't wrap my head around how you can just go from being all over me to flinching at my touch. I think you like me, think you care, and then snap! It's like we're back to square one again. Do you know how much that hurts? Besides the fact that I love you, even if it was just as a friend, being this hot and cold with someone is just cruel, you know. So I was just trying to save all three of us the trouble and finally take myself out of the picture. Because lord knows you two have probably been dying for that to happen."

You take a gasping breath, hand coming up to your hair as you breath heavy, tears pricking your eyes. You dare to spare a glance over to the Attendant. If he didn't hate you before, well, he probably does now. And you're sure it'll be the same with Moon. 

You cough into the silence, cheeks starting to burn. "Now. Can I have my keys back, please?"

Sun doesn't answer you, and you suddenly hear a loud thump. You jump, whipping to look at him and find that he's dropped to his knees. 

He looks nowhere in particular as he speaks, voice barely a whisper. "No, surely... is that, what have I—" He grips his rays tight, they squeak under the force. His words become unintelligible to you, and it's then you realize he's switched to binary. It's garbled, grating, and it worries you. 

You rush over, reaching out to touch his shoulder, but hesitate. "Sun, is everything okay?"

No response, the binary grows in volume, worse, harsher. 

You finally have no choice and have to put your hands on his shoulders. "Sun! Talk to me, Pretty bot."

He snaps to attention, eyes meeting yours as you rub soothing circles into his shoulders. Slowly, his hands release his rays, dropping to his sides. He leans into your touch, head drooping and dropping onto your shoulder. You ignore anything this action stirs in you, especially when he lets out a quiet sigh. 

"Pretty bot?" He asks after a moment.

You can't help the laugh that slips out. "You act like I've never called you that before."

"I took it for granted, then." His hands travel up to rest on your own shoulders, squeezing. "If I'd realized how high the chances were of never hearing it again, I would have treasured it more than I do."

You freeze at this, and he notices, pulling back to look at you, rays spinning a couple times. 

"I'm so, so sorry love, give me, us, a chance to explain, would you?" His hand cups your cheek. "We don't deserve it, but it would mean everything if you did."

You swallow, nodding slowly. "Okay."

Sun rises to his feet again, and extends a hand to you. You pause for a moment, then take it. He suddenly pulls you into a spin, and the Daycare music stops, switching to something else, modern, pop. A piano riff begins to play and Sun guides you into dancing along. 

Sun chuckles softly. "The concept of love, and feelings, it's... exceedingly difficult for us to express properly in words of our own. But, we both think this song puts it near perfectly."

The singer starts then, and you recognize the tune. It's an old favorite of yours, and you know the lyrics well. 

'Oh, my love. I know, I am a cold, cold man. Quite slow to pay you compliments, or public displayed affections...'

You snicker to yourself. That one hit you right in the chest, you won't deny. But the direct acknowledgement right off the bat was a start. 

At the chorus, Sun's hands grip yours tightly. You realize then that he's trembling slightly. 

'You're the only one worth seeing, the only place worth being, the only bed worth sleeping is the one right next to you...'

"Sun—" You start, concerned.

He shakes his head. "We're okay. Please, keep listening."

You frown, but nod. 

The two of you continue to sway and spin, and you listen, really listen. It may be an old favorite, but they've given you an entirely different context to hear it in now. Feel it in now. Appreciate it, now. 

If it's truly a representation of how they feel, for you, then it's finally happened. They've broken you. You keep your feelings inside, waiting until the song is over to say anything. 

As the music fades out, Sun stops your movements, but keeps your hands held in his. 

He speaks before you can. "This is all, so new, to us. And we simply find it terrifying. We don't know how to act, what to do. It's all…  so much. But we were so focused on our own feelings towards you that we neglected you." He looks up to you then, even with that unmoving face of his he's still able to convey a look of genuine distraught and remorse. "We're so, so sorry, love."

"I—"

In that moment, the lights cut, the Daycare—and the Attendant momentarily—powering down.  

Still holding your hands, Moon appears, faceplate spinning once or twice as he meets your gaze. 

Again, you don't get your chance to speak first. "You can hate us if you must. If that does anything to ease the pain we've caused." The naptime attendant rasps out. "To be truthful, I almost wish you would. It's been more than earned." He lets you go then, stepping back. 

"Was it true?" You ask. "About the song being an accurate representation of… how you feel?" You glance down, biting your lip. 

"Stars, Moonbeam. It wasn't even the half of it. It's so much more than that. But yes, to a point, yes."

You shake your head, stepping forward. After a moment, you hold out your arms wide. Moon gets the idea, enveloping you in a hug soon thereafter. 

"I was hurting, a lot." You say against his shoulder.

"I know."

"I was so close to leaving."

Moon makes a rumbling noise, holding you tighter. "We know."

"If this is gonna work, we have to talk more. Okay?"

"As much as you want. Whenever you want. Anything, anything that you'll let us have." You find that he, too, is trembling now. 

You chuckle, petting his hat in an attempt to soothe him. "If that's the case, I guess I can let go of some of the anguish the two of you have put me through."

"We'll do whatever it takes to take that away. To make up for it. Promise. Promise. Promise." It occurs to you then that he's lifting and pressing his faceplate, specifically his smile, into your shoulder. Kissing, he's kissing you.

Oh.

You gently push him back, cupping his faceplate. "Hey, why settle for the alternatives when you can have the real deal?" 

Moon stares at you a moment, so still you'd think he powered down. Then, you're being peppered with kisses all over your face. Your cheeks, your forehead, your nose, and your lips, especially your lips. 

You laugh, trying half-heartedly to push him away. "Quit it! I'm serious! So greedy."

"Yes." Moon hisses in between kisses. "Absolutely. Always."

You finally give in and succumb to the love being bestowed upon you then. You think you liked the sound of that. 

Always.

💘💘💘💘💘💘💘💘💘💘💘💘💘💘💘💘💘

Gahhh this was a lot of fun, a bit angsty but I think it got cute and sweet by the end, I was really channeling the song and like the vibes, Happy Valentine's Bensus!!!

Adding the tag list since it's writing stuff

@scarletcowboy @beemyhuneybee @fishm0ther @deviouscrackers @elsajoyagent8 @luckyyyduckyyy @zenkaiankoku @jogimote @local-shrub @milosmantis @robinette-green @everlightreader @sinister-sincerely @starredeclipse @dangerva @juukai @crystalmagpie447 @mothgutz236 @lizyxml @divinit3a @amarynthian-chronicles @crystalfay @that-one-unknown-artist @rosescarletful @buzzybee3

[driftwoodmfb]

Spoilers for the end of Episode 8 of Beast-Yeast

I have indeed gotten attached to @jackie-mae 's crk AU that I'm calling Hat Bound Smilk for the time being since she hasn't given it a name yet.

(Note: I used some of the canon dialogue in this. Mainly at the start of this)

After a tough bout, Shadow Milk Cookie was on the verge of collapsing and Pure Vanilla Cookie wasn’t far behind.

“Kh… Haa… Haa… Pathetic fools…”

Pure Vanilla Cookie reached his hand out to Shadow Milk Cookie.

“It doesn’t have to be like this, Shadow Milk Cookie.”

Shadow Milk Cookie slapped his hand away.

“Ha ha ha! Inhale How “kind” of you! Mark my words: one day, your “kindness” pant will become your undoing.” He waved his staff, opening a portal behind him. “I’ll be seeing you! pant pant… Tootles!”

“WAIT!”

Pure Vanilla Cookie’s staff lit up. 

He couldn’t just let him go like that!

The room lit up with a single spell.

. . .

tink

Shadow Milk Cookie and the portal were gone…

GingerBrave ran to where he had been standing moments ago.

“Gah! He’s gone!”

Strawberry Cookie picked something off the ground.

“And he dropped something…”

“Be carful Strawberry Cookie, it might be another trap-” Wizard Cookie looked at the item. “Wait a minute. That’s- That’s his Soul Jam!”

THUD

“PURE VANILLA COOKIE!”

The three of them ran to Pure Vanilla Cookie’s side.

He shakily pushed him self up right with his staff.

“Don’t worry, I’m… pant just a bit tired...”

The whole tower begun to shake.

“Without… pant pant its master, the Spire will collapse…! Quick, we must leave this place!”

GingerBrave helped Pure Vanilla Cookie to his feet.

Strawberry Cookie trembled, still holding Shadow Milk Cookie’s Soul Jam.

“Wh-wh-wh-what should we do with this���!?”

Pure Vanilla Cookie answered.

“We should take it with us.”

“Oh! And don’t your hat!”

“Thank you, Wizard Cookie.”

- Sometime later -

Pure Vanilla Cookie pointed his staff at the eye on his hat, gazing into it.

“Shadow Milk Cookie. You’re in there aren’t you?”

“. . . ha… HAHAHAHAHA! What a dumb question from the Cookie WHO SEALED ME HERE IN THE FIRST PLACE!”

(One thing to note is that from the sketches it looked like Shadow Milk Cookie didn't have his own Soul Jam anymore and his comment on Nilla's Soul Jam calling it "ours" made me think Pure Vanilla Cookie now has both Soul Jams. If this is not the case, then just ignore the few parts talking about Smilk's Soul Jam.

[bunnib4b3s]

Sylus- Payback

Synopsis: Sylus wanted to take you out on Valentines day as 'payback' for helping him retrieve some data. As the night goes on, things start to seem a little too romantic.

Genre/ Warnings: 18+, Smut, Body-Worship, Coworkers-to-Lovers, "Friends"-to-Lovers, Car Sex, Fingering, Porn-with-Plot

MDNI

Word Count 3000+

You weren’t sure why Sylus had insisted on taking you out tonight. Sure, you’d helped him retrieve some critical data a month ago, but this felt a little… excessive. He’d said it was a “payback,” but the more you thought about it, the more the whole thing seemed strange. You had helped him because it was the right thing to do, not because you expected something in return. Yet, here you were, seated at a small, dimly lit restaurant tucked away on a quiet street.

The place felt far more intimate than you’d expected. Candles flickered on every table, casting a warm glow across the room, and soft jazz played quietly in the background. You couldn’t help but feel a little out of place. This wasn’t the kind of place you went with Sylus—he was all about efficiency, never indulging in things like this.

When you walked in, he was already seated at a table for two. His usual composed self, as always—dark suit perfectly pressed, glasses resting on the bridge of his nose, eyes scanning the menu with a quiet intensity.

“You made it,” Sylus said when he saw you, the corner of his mouth quirking up into something that resembled a smile, but it was softer than usual, almost… tender?

You slid into the seat across from him, still trying to shake the feeling that something was off.

"So," you said, trying to sound casual, "this payback thing… what’s the plan here?"

He looked up from the menu, locking eyes with you for a moment longer than necessary. His gaze was unreadable, but you could have sworn there was something more to it.

"Just dinner," he replied, though his tone was a little too smooth, a little too calm. "You helped me with something important. This is the least I could do."

You nodded, feeling the weight of his words, but still unsure of why he was acting so different tonight. You’d known Sylus for a while, and this wasn’t like him. It wasn’t like him at all.

The evening unfolded with ease, but as the night wore on, it felt like the atmosphere between you two was changing. Every word you spoke seemed to catch his full attention, his gaze lingering on you just a little too long, like he was searching for something in your eyes. The way his lips curved into that small, thoughtful smile—was he looking at you differently than he usually did? Maybe you were imagining it.

You took a deep breath, trying to push the feeling aside.

"Sylus," you began, glancing at him with a raised eyebrow. "You’re not fooling me. What’s going on? This is more than just ‘payback,’ isn’t it?"

He paused, his fingers gently tapping the rim of his wine glass as he regarded you. The air between you two felt heavier now, thick with something you couldn’t quite place.

“Sometimes,” he said slowly, almost thoughtfully, “it’s not about the favor. Sometimes… it’s about something else entirely.”

You blinked, unsure of how to respond. Was he being cryptic on purpose? Was this just Sylus being his usual self, or was there something more he was trying to say?

Before you could ask more, the waiter arrived with the food, breaking the moment. Sylus shifted his focus to the plates, but you couldn’t shake the feeling that the conversation was far from over. That maybe tonight wasn’t just about gratitude, or payback, or dinner.

And as you watched Sylus glance at you again, his eyes lingering a little too long, you couldn’t help but wonder… What exactly was he trying to say?

As the evening progressed, you couldn’t ignore the growing tension between you and Sylus. The conversation came and went, but it always felt like something was just beneath the surface, waiting to be said. Every time you spoke, you caught him watching you, his eyes lingering a little too long. It wasn’t his usual cold, calculating gaze—it was something else, something far warmer. His smile was softer, and his laughter, when it came, seemed almost… affectionate?

You shook your head slightly, trying to push the thoughts away. It’s just dinner. Just payback. But the more you tried to convince yourself, the more his subtle gestures kept pulling you back into that uncomfortable, unfamiliar space.

After a while, Sylus placed his fork down, the small clink of metal on porcelain echoing in the quiet between you. He met your gaze, his expression unreadable, though there was a slight hint of hesitation in the way he lingered there.

“I'm not used to you being this quiet,” he said, his voice warm. “Is something wrong?”

You didn’t want to admit it, but you couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off—something beyond the usual awkwardness that came from eating with someone like him. You opened your mouth to respond, but nothing came out.

Instead, you found yourself looking at him, really looking at him, as if seeing him for the first time tonight. His suit, so meticulously tailored, his hair neatly combed, his hands folded carefully on the table. It was all familiar, and yet, there was an intensity in his eyes that made your stomach flip.

“No, nothing’s wrong,” you finally said, trying to sound convincing. “I’m just… I don’t know. A little thrown off, I guess.”

Sylus raised an eyebrow, his gaze never leaving yours. “Thrown off by what?”

You hesitated, unsure of how to phrase it without making it sound like you were overthinking. But the truth was, you were starting to feel a little... exposed. Like Sylus was peeling back layers you weren’t ready to reveal.

“This—tonight,” you gestured vaguely at the table, the soft glow of the candles flickering between you. “It just feels different. You’re being... different.”

Sylus didn’t break eye contact. His lips pressed together in a thin line, and for a moment, he seemed to debate something. Then, without another word, he leaned forward slightly, lowering his voice so only you could hear.

“Maybe I am,” he said, his tone almost too calm, too deliberate. “But maybe it’s because I’ve been meaning to tell you something for a while now.”

Your breath caught in your throat. This wasn’t how you expected the night to go, not at all. Your mind raced, but before you could formulate a response, Sylus continued.

“I’ve always been the type to keep things… logical,” he said, his fingers tapping lightly on the edge of his glass again. “But this—what’s happening right now—it’s not logical at all. It’s... something else.”

You blinked, unsure of where this conversation was going. Something else? What did he mean by that? His words didn’t seem to fit the context of a simple thank-you dinner, and yet the more he spoke, the more you realized that Sylus wasn’t just talking about gratitude anymore.

A strange tension settled between you, thick and unspoken. The soft hum of conversation from other diners faded into the background, the flickering candlelight casting shifting shadows across his face. You weren’t sure what to say, so instead, you reached for your glass, taking a slow sip in an attempt to steady yourself.

Sylus watched you, his expression unreadable, though his fingers lightly tapped against the table—a tell, something you’d noticed before when he was thinking carefully about his next words.

“I don’t usually do things like this,” he admitted, voice lower now, almost hesitant. “Dinners, gestures like this… it’s not exactly my style.”

You let out a soft huff of amusement, setting your glass down. “Yeah, I kind of figured that much.”

His lips quirked slightly, but it wasn’t the usual dry smirk you were used to. It was softer, more deliberate. “And yet, I wanted to. I kept thinking about it, about how to repay you. But every option felt… insufficient.”

You frowned slightly, tilting your head. “Sylus, I wasn’t expecting anything in return. You know that, right?”

“I know.” He nodded, glancing down at the rim of his wine glass before looking back up at you. “And that’s part of the problem.”

Your brows furrowed. “Problem?”

Sylus exhaled slowly, like he was weighing something in his mind. Then, as if coming to a decision, he leaned forward slightly, his elbows resting lightly on the table. His gaze was locked onto yours, the usual analytical sharpness in his eyes replaced by something deeper, something unreadable.

“You never ask for anything,” he said. “You do things for people without expecting anything back. That’s rare.”

You shrugged, suddenly feeling a little self-conscious. “It’s not a big deal. I just—”

“It is a big deal.” His voice was firm, though not unkind. “At least… to me.”

Something about the way he said it made your stomach flip. You weren’t sure why, but the atmosphere felt different now—charged, like you were standing at the edge of something uncertain.

“I wanted to find a way to properly thank you,” he continued, “but the more I thought about it, the more I realized it wasn’t just about repaying a favor. It was about something else.”

There it was again. Something else.

You swallowed, trying to keep your voice steady. “You keep saying that. What do you mean?”

Sylus didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he studied you for a long moment, as if he was searching for something in your expression.

Finally, he spoke.

“I’ve been trying to ignore it,” he said quietly, his voice almost lost beneath the music playing in the background. “Trying to keep things simple. Logical.”

You tensed slightly, uncertain where this was going but aware, on some level, that this wasn’t just about a thank-you dinner anymore.

Sylus hesitated, then exhaled, his posture shifting slightly as if letting down some unseen barrier. His next words were careful, deliberate.

“But that’s not how I feel when I’m around you.”

Your breath caught.

He was watching you so intently now, his normally unreadable face showing something you couldn’t quite place—something vulnerable.

“I care about you,” he admitted, and this time, there was no hesitation in his voice. “More than I should. More than I expected to.”

The room felt suddenly smaller, the noise around you fading into a distant hum. You opened your mouth, but no words came. You weren’t sure what to say, weren’t sure what you could say.

Sylus must have noticed your shock because he leaned back slightly, giving you space even as his gaze never left yours.

“You don’t have to say anything right now,” he said softly. “I just… wanted you to know. Because tonight? It was never just about payback.”

Your breath hitched at his words, heart pounding harder than it should have been. The air between you was thick now, humming with something electric, something undeniable. You weren’t sure if it was the wine warming your skin or the way Sylus was looking at you—like he was stripping away every layer of pretense between you, piece by piece.

You swallowed, trying to steady yourself. “So if it wasn’t just about payback… what was tonight about?”

Sylus’s lips curled slightly, a slow, knowing smirk spreading across his face. He leaned forward again, close enough that you could feel the heat radiating from him, close enough that when he spoke, his voice was just above a whisper.

“I think you already know.”

Your stomach flipped, heat pooling low in your belly at the weight behind his words. His fingers, long and precise, traced the rim of his wine glass before sliding lower, resting against the table—but his attention never wavered from you. He was watching your every reaction, your every breath, like he was waiting for you to put the pieces together.

And maybe you had. Maybe you had all along, but had been too blind—too stubborn—to see it.

You exhaled, your tongue darting out to wet your lips, and Sylus’s gaze flickered downward, tracking the movement like a predator locking onto prey. The realization sent a shiver down your spine.

“Sylus…” you started, but your voice came out softer than you intended.

“Hm?” His expression was calm, but you could see it now—the tension in his shoulders, the controlled way he breathed, like he was barely holding himself together.

It wasn’t like Sylus to be this restrained. He was always composed, always precise, always a step ahead of everyone else. But now? Now he looked like he was fighting something, and the way his fingers flexed slightly against the table only confirmed it.

It made something dark and wicked curl in your stomach.

You weren’t stupid. You knew what this was. You could feel it in the way his eyes darkened, in the way his breath came just a little deeper, in the way his body was angled toward you, like he was just waiting—waiting for you to catch up, to make the next move.

So you did.

Slowly, deliberately, you leaned in, mirroring his posture. Your voice dropped just enough to match his. “If you wanted something, Sylus… all you had to do was ask.”

His jaw tensed, and for the first time tonight, you saw his carefully constructed control crack.

For a moment, he didn’t speak. He just looked at you, heat simmering behind his gaze, his grip tightening around his glass. Then, with a slow exhale, he tilted his head, his smirk returning—but this time, it was darker.

“Oh?” he mused, voice smooth but laced with something dangerous. “Is that how you want to play this?”

Your pulse skyrocketed.

“I don’t know,” you murmured, letting your fingers trace the stem of your own wine glass, pretending to be more composed than you felt. “Depends on what you have in mind.”

Sylus’s tongue flicked over his lower lip, and the way his eyes raked over you made heat pool between your thighs.

“I have a lot in mind,” he murmured, his voice velvety, rich. “But not all of it is appropriate for a dinner table.”

A slow shiver trailed down your spine, your body already responding to the implication.

“Then maybe,” you said, your voice steady despite the way your skin burned under his gaze, “we should take this conversation somewhere else.”

For a moment, Sylus simply stared at you. Then, without a word, he pushed back his chair, standing in one smooth, controlled movement. He pulled out his wallet, dropped a few bills on the table—far more than the dinner cost—and then turned his gaze back to you.

“Let’s go.”

The tension between you crackled as you followed Sylus out of the restaurant. His hand rested lightly on the small of your back, guiding you through the dim streets. Even that simple touch sent electricity coursing through your body.

When you reached his car, Sylus pressed you gently against the cool metal, his body caging you in. His eyes burned with barely restrained desire as he searched your face.

"Are you sure about this?" he murmured, giving you one last chance to back out.

In response, you grabbed his tie and pulled him down into a searing kiss. Sylus groaned against your mouth, his composure finally shattering. His hands gripped your hips, pulling you flush against him as he deepened the kiss.

You lost yourself in the taste of him, the feel of his solid body pressed against yours. When you finally broke apart, gasping for air, Sylus rested his forehead against yours.

"Get in the car," he growled, voice rough with need.

You didn't need to be told twice. As soon as you were both inside, Sylus drove to a secluded spot overlooking the city. The moment he cut the engine, he was on you again, kissing you with a passion that took your breath away.

Your hands roamed over each other's bodies, desperate to touch and explore. Clothes were hastily removed as the windows steamed up around you.

Your skin was on fire, every touch electrifying and igniting an inferno of desire. Sylus' hands were firm and purposeful as they roamed over your body, sending shivers of pleasure through you.

Your hands tremble as they run over the smoothness of Sylus' skin, your fingers digging into the muscles of his back, leaving red marks in their wake. His hands leave trails of fire on your skin, igniting every nerve ending in your body.

Your hands were slick with sweat as they slid over each other's skin, brushing against sensitive areas and causing sparks to fly. The rough texture of the car's seat against your back only added to the intensity of the moment.

As you and Sylus continued to explore each other's bodies, the car rocked gently with your passionate movements. The heady scent of desire filled the air, mixing with the smell of leather and jazz from the restaurant still lingering on your clothes.

Sylus's lips trailed a trail of kisses down your neck, his tongue flicking at your sensitive spots, sending shivers down your spine. His hands roamed your body, leaving a wake of goosebumps in their wake. His touch was both confident and reverent, as if he couldn't believe you were finally here, with him, like this.

His fingers teased you in ways that made your toes curl and your nails dig into the leather upholstery. "Sylus," you moaned, arching your back as his skilled fingers found just the right spot. He responded by pressing his lips to the crook of your neck, nipping at the tender skin there, sending shivers down your spine.

You couldn't help but moan louder as he continued to tease you, his touches becoming bolder and bolder with each passing second. The car felt like it was shrinking around you, yet not enough to contain the desire raging between you two.

"Tell me what you want," he whispered huskily against your ear, his breath hot against your skin. "Tell me how much you've wanted this."

It was a mix of exhilaration and vulnerability that coursed through you at those words. But tonight... tonight was different. Tonight, it felt like anything was possible. So, taking a deep breath, you met his gaze and said what had been on both of your minds for so long: "I want you, Sylus."

As Sylus's hands traced the curves of your body, you arched into his touch, desperate for more. His lips trailed down your neck, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. You tangled your fingers in his hair, pulling him closer as a soft moan escaped your lips.

"Sylus," you breathed, voice heavy with desire.

He lifted his head to meet your gaze, his eyes dark with passion. "Use your words kitten," he murmured, his voice low and husky.

Instead of answering, you pulled him into another searing kiss, pouring all your pent-up longing into it. Sylus responded eagerly, his hands roaming your body with increased urgency.

The confined space of the car only heightened the intensity between you. Every brush of skin against skin sent electricity coursing through your veins. The windows were completely fogged now, creating a private cocoon for your passionate encounter.

Sylus's fingers danced along your inner thigh, teasing and exploring. You gasped at the contact, your hips bucking involuntarily. He smirked against your skin, clearly enjoying the effect he was having on you.

"Please," you whimpered, beyond caring how needy you sounded.

Sylus didn't need any further encouragement. He positioned himself between your legs, pausing for just a moment to meet your eyes. The tenderness in his gaze took your breath away.

Then he was pushing into you, slowly and carefully. You both groaned at the sensation, overwhelmed by the intensity of finally being joined. Sylus stilled for a moment, allowing you both to adjust.

"You feel incredible," he murmured, his voice strained with the effort of holding back.

You wrapped your legs around his waist, urging him deeper. "Move," you pleaded.

Sylus began to thrust, starting slow but quickly building to a passionate rhythm. The car rocked slightly with your movements, but neither of you paid it any mind. You were lost in each other, in the pleasure coursing through your bodies.

Your hands roamed over Sylus's back, feeling the play of muscles beneath his skin. His lips found yours again, swallowing your moans as the pleasure built higher and higher.

The tension coiled tighter in your core with each thrust. Sylus's movements became more urgent, his breathing ragged against your neck. You could feel yourself teetering on the edge of ecstasy.

"Sylus," you gasped, "I'm close."

He slipped a hand between your bodies, his clever fingers finding just the right spot. "Let go," he urged, his voice rough with desire. "I've got you."

With a cry of pleasure, you tumbled over the edge, waves of ecstasy washing over you. Sylus followed soon after, groaning your name as he found his release.

As you both came down from your highs, Sylus peppered soft kisses along your collarbone and shoulder, feeling his warm breath on your skin.

Sylus collapsed against you, his body slick with sweat and trembling slightly. You held him close, running your fingers through his damp hair as you both caught your breath. The car was filled with the sound of your heavy breathing and the faint ticking of the cooling engine.

After a few moments, Sylus lifted his head to look at you. His eyes were soft, almost vulnerable as they searched your face. "Are you alright?" he asked quietly.

You nodded, unable to keep the smile off your face. "More than alright," you assured him.

He smiled back, a genuine smile that reached his eyes and made your heart flutter. Then he kissed you again, softly this time, full of tenderness and unspoken emotion.

As you separated, reality began to creep back in. You were still in his car, parked in a secluded spot overlooking the city.

You felt a blush creep up your cheeks at his words. This softer side of Sylus was new, but you found you liked it just as much as his usual composed demeanor.

"So," you said, trying to lighten the mood, "I guess this wasn't just about payback after all."

He chuckles as you both take in the air around you as you slowly drift off into his embrace.

[tadpolecollin]

Kurt Wagner x gn!reader

Summary: you're new to the X-men and very nervous, but Kurt makes you feel more at home

Finding Home

It had been a whirlwind of confusion, fear, and hope since you discovered you were a mutant. Everything had changed in an instant, and the world felt foreign, uncertain, and overwhelming. But there was one place that seemed to offer a flicker of warmth—an enormous mansion with walls full of people like you. The X-Mansion.

You were standing in the hallway, your heart racing, unsure where to go or what to do next. Everyone had been kind, but you still felt like an outsider, lost in the chaos of it all. The sounds of people talking and doors opening and closing echoed around you, and you couldn’t help but feel small in this strange, new world.

A soft *bamf* broke through the noise, and before you could turn, there he was—Kurt Wagner. He appeared out of nowhere, his body shimmering with the faintest hint of smoke. A tall figure with blue fur, a pointed tail, and ears that twitched as they listened intently. His smile was warm and genuine, lighting up his face in a way that made you feel a little lighter inside.

“Hallo!” Kurt said, his voice friendly, with a thick German accent that made his words sound like music. “You are the new one, ja?”

You blinked, a little caught off guard by the sudden appearance of the man. “Uh, yeah. I’m still getting used to everything here.”

Kurt’s yellow eyes softened with understanding. “Ach, I know how that feels. When I first arrived, everything was so foreign and it made me very nervous, much like you. But in time, I realized this place is... unsere Familie—our family. You will find your place here. Ganz sicher.”

You felt a wave of warmth at his words, but the doubt still lingered in the back of your mind. “I don’t really know where to start,” you admitted, your voice quiet. “Everything’s so... different.”

Kurt chuckled lightly, his tail swaying behind him as he stepped a little closer. “*Kein Problem*, no problem at all.” He extended his hand, and you hesitated for only a moment before taking it. His grip was firm but gentle. “When I first arrived, I didn’t know where to go, either. But I learned quickly that this place is a little like a *Dschungel*—a jungle. But it’s not a scary one. It’s full of life and Abenteuer. And most importantly, it is full of people who understand. You will find your way, just like I did.”

You couldn’t help but smile at the analogy. A jungle, huh? Maybe that wasn’t such a bad way to think about it. “I guess that makes sense.”

Kurt’s tail flicked with a lighthearted thwap against the floor as he leaned in slightly, his smile widening. “And if you ever get lost in the jungle, I’m always here. You don’t have to go it alone. We are all here for each other. I will help you.”

You nodded, a small but genuine smile starting to tug at your lips. His energy, despite how strange he must have appeared to you at first, was oddly comforting. The way he spoke with such certainty, with such kindness, made you feel as though you might just be able to make it here after all.

“Thank you, Kurt,” you said quietly, finally feeling something like peace settling into your chest. “It means a lot to hear that.”

“Natürlich,” he said, his tail flicking once again. “It is nothing. We look out for one another. I know that feeling of being new, of feeling anders. But that is not a bad thing. You are who you are, and that is something to be proud of.”

You felt your heart soften at his words. “It’s just... hard, sometimes. You know? It’s hard to accept this part of me.”

Kurt’s expression shifted to one of empathy, his head tilting slightly to one side. “Ich verstehe. I understand completely. It is not easy to embrace what makes us different. But you will see, here, there is nothing to fear. Everyone has their own... unique gift, and here, we learn to embrace that. For me, it was teleporting around and being a bit bluewhen I first arrived. It took time for me to see it as something good.”

He leaned in slightly, his yellow eyes bright with mischief. “And besides, you won’t find anyone else here like me. Wirklich.”

You let out a soft laugh, the tension in your shoulders finally starting to ease. "I don't think I’ve met anyone like you either."

Kurt gave a dramatic bow, his tail swishing behind him. "That is a good thing! And it will be the same with you. everyone here is different, and that is what makes us strong. You are not alone in this. We are all in this together.”

There was something in his words, something in the way he said them, that made the idea of fitting in feel possible. Maybe you didn’t have all the answers, but with people like Kurt around, maybe you didn’t need to have them right away.

Kurt stood up straighter, his expression turning more serious but still warm. “Let’s take a walk. I will show you the garden. It’s a quiet place, and sometimes, die Stille is the best way to think.”

You nodded, following him as he led the way, his presence like a calming force. It didn’t feel as overwhelming now. The mansion didn’t feel so big and intimidating. With Kurt by your side, it was starting to feel a little more like home.

As the two of you walked, he continued to speak with ease, sharing little stories about the mansion and the people who lived in it. The more he spoke, the more you realized how genuine he was, how truly kind, and how welcome you felt in his presence. For the first time since you’d arrived, you began to feel that maybe—just maybe—this place, with all its differences, could become a new kind of home.

And as you listened to Kurt’s stories, filled with German phrases and laughter, you couldn’t help but believe that finding a family—one that accepted you for exactly who you were—wasn’t as impossible as it had seemed.

__

Two i a row :3 i had this one laying in my notes so here you go ^^

[dark-lord-of-awesomeness]

What if Soos in the Princess Stan au is just a child who a village decided they wanted sacrifice to the might dragon who is the keeper of the Princess Stanel.

Also would Carla and Dan be knights but the kind who are there for the bounty and not for Stan’s hand in marriage?

I’m imagining a scene where Stan gets bored of knights “rescuing” him after a montage. So he starts acting like bugs bunny and start messing with one of them. Sometimes he picks up abandoned Knight armor infiltrate one group of knights and messes with them

I haven't decided how many gf characters to bring in here, but that sounds like something that would happen to soos. Soos just thinks this cool dragon is rad, and then his grandma showed up! She was ready to throw down with Ford, then 180 just moves into the castle. Makes herself at home knitting in a corner and watching their knight drama like TV.

I was thinking Dan is also cursed in some way. Kid punched one too many trees and the forest got made at him about it. Didn't stop him from punching trees though, so jokes on it. Ford was in the middle of helping him break it when he got dragonfied so now hes just hanging around. Carla is 100% a knight. Woman came to rescue the princess in a move of woman solidarity, and just freezes when she sees its Stan. She's the first person who Stan would love to rescue him. Unfortunately she believes the dragon is Ford, despite all of Stan's claims otherwise, and refuses to kill him. Sticks around to help lower the invading knight problem and to laugh at Ford obsessing over Stan.

Stan would love to mess with the knights, but he's not allowed outside without supervision >:( he also doesn't want to encourage any more from coming, so he's limited to throwing things at them and saying incredibly bizarre things where they try to talk to him.

Knight: Princess! I've come to rescue you!

Stan, from a window: hmm :/ you don't look tall enough.

Knight: what? I assure you-

Stan: yeah, way to short here. And what kind of sword is that?

Knight: my sword is forged from-

Stan: yeah, the dragons only weak to swords made from... ice. Ice sword. Yup. That's a thing.

Carla, whispering next to him: is that true? :( don't give away your brothers weaknesses!

Stan, whispering back: not my brother, and no. I just want to see if he'll figure that out and come back with one.

Knight: I see. Wait for me! I shall return to free you from this beast!

Stan: sure, whatever guy. Feel free to take your time.

[cod-thoughts]

Proclaim eternal victory

Word count: 1.1k

Relationships: GazRoach, Gaz/Roach

Tags: love confession (kind of), first kiss, competitive Roach

Part of a project that has a tiny explanation here. Keep reading under the cut!!

AN: Happy valentines day @hexxedghost!! I actually really struggled to write something for you cause you like so many things but I did include Roach cause i just had to. Its how we started talking anyway so it had to be done :D I hope i got their dynamic right, it was fun to write smth a little random like this instead of hurt/comfort pffft. I wish i had the time to write smth horror based though those ideas were so goooood, definitely gonna have to revisit that :O You're always so nice and understanding, your DMs have always been open and a safe space to me and for that i want to thank you, genuinely <33

The rivalry had started as a joke.

Gaz liked to talk. Roach, despite his silence, somehow always had the last word.

It was infuriating.

At first, it had been small things—Roach raising an eyebrow at Gaz’s one-liners, shaking his head with mock disapproval when Gaz made a particularly terrible pun. But then, Roach started using his phone to reply, quick texts flashing on the screen with pinpoint sarcasm, perfectly timed to shut Gaz up before he even had a chance to counter. Sometimes, when he wanted to really drive the point home, he signed. Gaz had been making an effort to learn, but he still missed a lot when Roach signed. It certainly didn’t help that Roach had started deliberately making his signs quicker, more subtle, knowing full well Gaz was struggling to keep up.

It should not have been possible for someone who didn’t speak to be this annoying.

It wasn’t just training, either. Roach had developed an uncanny ability to disrupt Gaz’s focus at the most inopportune times. Briefings, field exercises, even casual downtime—there Roach would be, watching him with that insufferable smirk, typing something at a speed that suggested he had been waiting for the perfect moment to strike.

The worst part? Everyone else was enjoying this.

“You’re a menace,” Gaz muttered after Roach absolutely obliterated him in a training exercise, landing a clean shot before Gaz had even spotted him.

Roach, ever smug, pulled out his phone and held it up: Get good.

Gaz swatted the phone out of his face with a huff, only for Roach to catch it effortlessly, flashing a shit-eating grin before pocketing it.

Soap and Ghost, the ever-present audience to their nonsense, watched on with far too much amusement.

“Y’know, Gaz,” Soap mused, stroking his chin like he was deep in thought, “for someone who’s meant to be the witty bastard on this team, you’re lettin’ Roach run circles round you.”

Gaz rolled his eyes. “I am not letting him do anything.”

Roach, with the worst timing imaginable, sent a single message to his phone. Gaz felt the buzz in his pocket and, with a sinking feeling, pulled it out to read it.

Yeah, but you still can’t keep up.

Gaz turned to glare at Roach, who merely tilted his head with an expression of pure, innocent delight.

“Oh, that’s it—” Gaz began, but then Roach signed something quickly to Ghost. Whatever it was, it sent the normally stoic man into a low chuckle, shaking his head as he walked away.

“What? What did he say?” Gaz demanded, looking between them. Ghost just patted him on the shoulder.

“Nothin’ you need to worry about, mate.”

Gaz turned to Roach, eyes narrowing. “That’s dirty play.”

Roach smirked behind his mask but didn’t deny it.

Fine. Two could play at that game.

The next time Roach got the drop on him in training, Gaz decided to fight dirty. He grinned, wide and slow, and stepped right into Roach’s personal space, leaning in just enough that their noses almost brushed.

Roach, who had been infuriatingly confident up until now, immediately stilled, blinking at him with sharp, surprised eyes. Gaz didn’t miss the way Roach’s fingers twitched by his side, like he was debating stepping back but refused to give in.

Gaz smirked. “What, cat got your tongue?”

Roach’s eyes narrowed, a flicker of something dangerous in his gaze, but Gaz saw the faintest dusting of pink across his cheekbones and oh, this was brilliant.

Gaz was just about to revel in his small victory when Roach, moving faster than Gaz could react, reached up and flicked him on the forehead.

“Oi—”

Roach pulled out his phone, typed something quickly, and held it up for Gaz to read.

Try harder, pretty boy.

Gaz’s brain short-circuited.

Soap cackled. Ghost actually laughed, which was worse. Gaz was left standing there, ears burning, fists clenched, as Roach just walked away, supremely satisfied with himself.

Gaz seethed.

Alright. Fine. Roach wanted to play this game? He’d show him.

The next few days were war. Gaz spent every moment he could trying to get one up on Roach, but every attempt only seemed to amuse the other man more. Whether it was sparring, training drills, or even meal breaks, Roach found some way to fluster him. He’d smirk behind his mask, tap a quick message, and watch with clear amusement as Gaz gritted his teeth. He started stealing Gaz’s seat at meal times, casually handing him his phone with a text that read mine now before returning to eating like nothing had happened.

Gaz had never wanted to throttle someone more in his life.

It wasn’t fair. Gaz was supposed to be the smooth one. The fast talker. The one who could charm his way out of anything. And yet, every time Roach smirked at him or sent a cheeky message, Gaz felt his stomach do flips.

One evening, when they were walking back from the gym, Gaz decided it was time for revenge. He waited for the perfect moment—Roach, distracted, stretching out his arms, looking smug as ever—and stepped in front of him, blocking his path and guiding him into a slightly more secluded corner. 

Roach quirked an eyebrow, amused, but before he could sign or reach for his phone, Gaz lifted a hand and hooked his fingers under the edge of Roach’s mask.

Roach stilled. His hands didn’t move to stop Gaz, but there was a flicker of uncertainty in his eyes—just a moment where he let Gaz decide what happened next.

Slowly, deliberately, Gaz pulled the mask down, revealing Roach’s lips, slightly parted in surprise. Gaz felt his breath hitch at the sight of him, and for once, Roach wasn’t smirking, wasn’t teasing—he was watching Gaz like he was waiting for something.

So Gaz gave it to him.

He leaned in, pressing their lips together in a kiss that was slow, deliberate—less about winning and more about the way Roach melted into it. Roach made a soft, startled sound against his mouth before he kissed back, his fingers curling instinctively into Gaz’s hoodie. Gaz let himself sink into it, into the warmth, the way Roach’s breath hitched when he tilted his head just so.

The world around them blurred. The distant sounds of the base, the ever-present murmur of other soldiers moving about none the wiser to the revelation that Gaz was having right now—it all faded to the feeling of Roach’s lips against his, the way his breath stuttered when Gaz moved just slightly closer.

By the time Gaz pulled back, they were both slightly breathless.

Roach blinked at him, lips red, pupils dark. For the first time ever, he had nothing to say.

Gaz grinned, victorious, his voice smug but warm. “Gotcha.”

Roach’s fingers twitched—half instinct, half hurried—before he pulled out his phone and typed furiously.

Gaz had barely a second to brace himself before Roach turned the screen towards him.

Do it again.

Gaz’s breath hitched.

Oh, he was in so much trouble.

[ruins-of-tragedy]

Thoughts on season one's episode four to seven of RWBY coming right up... Or down I guess.

Season 01 Episode 04: The First Step - Pt I

- I am so happy that I can sing along to some of the song now. One of them monsters has a yellow coloured tip on it's tail. Didn't notice that before.

- So, Ruby's symbol is a rose. Weiss has the snowflake in her corner. Both Blake and Yang have something akin to flames, but of different colours and shapes. Blake's thing looks more like a flame to be honest. Yang's is almost a heart Hmmm.

- The girl is a morning person. The guy isn't. Both of them are me somehow. These two also show up in the opening and ending together with Jaune and the red-kinda-like-fire-dressed lady.

- Also, the boy here has magenta eyes. And a hair stripe of the same colour. Nice.

- Nora and Ren. The former is crushing, ain't she? And do they have a major height difference? Maybe it was the angle of the shot.

- No social interactions anymore. Ruby just wants to ride into the sunset with her weapon. Mood... Is this the arc where we learn about the importance of teamwork and people alongside her?

- "I don't need people to help me grow up. I drink milk!" Yes. You tell them kid.

- Yang doesn't want to be on Ruby's team. Typical big sister energy. I have that urge too sometimes.

- Jaune finishing a "nice and quirky" girl's sentence? More likely than you think.

- So red-kinda-like-fire-dressed lady is Pyrrha. Strong and well-known. Can't decipher her origins yet. Seems Greek to me, for whatever reason... Is she supposed to be Hestia?! Moi's favourite goddess from the Greek pantheon.

- Weiss wants her in her own corner. And she is scheming already about a good life alongside her. LoLLL!

- Okay, why is this soliloquy from Weiss me as a kid thinking about getting a best friend for life? Nothing gay going on at all... Oh my Gods. She literally says, "Nothing could come between us now!" 😂👏🏻

- Jaune is jinx for Weiss it seems. Am pretty sure Pyrrha is actually fond of him. She is the only one so far who waved at him willingly. Or maybe she was just being polite.

- "Hot stuff." "Snow angel." WoW.

- Weiss really is smart. She realised what would get Jaune to recognise Pyrrha after only two attempts. Kudos!

- I liked the cereal box animation bit. Gave me a good giggle.

- Pyrrha is so nice. Jaune thinks he has more game than he actually does. Should read up on personal space though. Ooooooh! That spear throw from Pyrrha was badass!

- "Ladykiller." Yeah, the ladies want to kill themselves often when he comes around. Jokes! 😂

- Is Ozpin sick or something? Every time I see him well enough, he has a cup in his hand. Granted I have only seen him thrice, but during two of those times he was drinking from a cup and walking around merrily. The initiation speech was the only time I saw him actively using what looks to be a cane. He didn't seem very energetic then, as noted by Yang and Ruby. Too early to actually lock in on this though.

- Emerald forest. Cute.

- Ruby's worst nightmare is coming true. Jaune's attempt at a question was the tree in the jungle no one saw fall. And they will be graded on their journey through the woods and could die in the process... I want to be in this world.

- Jaune. My friend. It's kind-of a drop off. Look around. You missed Yang putting on her aviators moments before being catapulted. So cool.

- The Blake ending. Tune was nice. Very, expect something to come soon.

Season 01 Episode 05: The First Step - Pt II

- Rocking along to the opening song.

- Ruby smashed across a winged creature on her way down. Hope that birdie wasn't uncle Qrow. 😆

- The scythe landing technique was nice. Weiss has snowflake steps. Ren uses his gun very well. Yang is handblasting her gauntlets to fly through the sky. Pyrrha warrior princess-ed a path in. AND assisted Jaune. Gods, she is good... Yang seemed to be the only one having fun though. The aviators make a lot more sense now.

- How did Blake and Nora get in? Me wants to know!

- The mental juggling Ruby is doing as she runs... Funny and many people's everyday reality. Probably different circumstances though. I hope.

- The figures in her head are so unserious. Great for comedic value at least! Blake's "so mysterious, so calm" face is giving major 'Hey mamas' vibes.

- So Ruby's choices so far are her own sister. The incompetent nice guy. The anti-social bibliophile. And...

- Of course it's the mean girl Ruby ends up paired with... "The world needs the selfless and the selfish to keep spinning." 😭

- Oh my Gods. Is this Weiss' version of 'stuck between a rock and a hard place?'

- Ruby's celebratory hurrah on getting Weiss as a partner might not last long, but mine probably will. 😁

- Jaune should be asking for team spots on Pyrrha's side. But still, cute!

- When did Ruby become the roadrunner, Weiss would like to know.

- Grimm monster's here. Weiss is alone. Ooooooh. Things mayhaps be getting interesting.

- Yang's ending. Exciting music. Makes me want to do a montage planning a revolution.

Season 01 Episode 06: The Emerald Forest - Pt I

- RWBY opening. My beloved.

- The monster is not Yang's sister. The other monster is also not Ruby. And they both get hit by Yang.

- Complained so bad Yang is teasing them now.

- Ahhhh. Her hair is precious. One strand out, and not only does the perpetrator go down but some trees around them as well. Junior's fate is shrouded in more darkness now.

- Blake did the other monster a favour by saving it from Yang's wrath.

- Her ensuing smirk and Yang's answer... New partner alert! AGHHHHHHHHH! It's happening!!!!

- Weiss being so technical about her stance and stuff could mean she hasn't had much time training with actual monsters.

- Ruby and Weiss' teamwork so good, they only needed one hit to bring down an entire group of monsters AND some chunk of the jungle... without even meaning to do that. 😂

- Sending my prayers to the collateral damage the forest is withstanding. And the noise pollution it needs to tolerate, courtesy of Ruby and Weiss.

- Slicing down the tree in anger was such an alpha male move. I support a woman in male dominated fields. Go Ruby!

- That feather is huge. Is that from a monster?

- I am loving the reversal of gender roles between Jaune and Pyrrha. The damsel in distress man and the competent protector lady. Considering this came out in 2013, good on the folks behind the show for making this a thing. Chef's kiss!

- Ooooooh! Exposition... "It bears our burdens and shields our hearts." I guess I don't have no soul. My aura would be working overtime otherwise.

- Ren vs a big snek. Aura Person vs Creature of Grimm. Manifestation of soul vs Manifestation of anonymity. Light vs Darkness.

- It's interesting how just as Pyrrha talks about understanding light and darkness, 'cause everyone has some of both, a white snek comes along. Also a Grimm creature, from the looks of it. Hmmm.

- Essentially, bare your soul. Project yourself. Turn your aura into a forcefield... Man, they really are coming for the arses of emotionally unavailable people.

- Hope Ren's okie... WHOA. This guy pulled out some serious ancient art moves with his magenta-pink(?) aura. Blasted a snek's head off. NOICE!!!

- The fact that Jaune didn't immediately assume Pyrrha was going to kiss him is good character development! 😂 Jokes aside though, Pyrrha used her own aura to unlock Jaune's? She is such a good person...

- White aura Jaune. Red aura Pyrrha.

- "You have a lot of it." Am sure Jaune's mum probably wondered why he had so much energy at least a few times. 😆

- A wild sloth appears. Ren doubts her choice of animal noise. The sloth uses the 'boop' maneuver to counteract this claim.

- The Jaune and Pyrrha ending. The music is almost EDM like here.

Season 01 Episode 07: The Emerald Forest - Pt II

- Yes, am ready for a revolution!

- Pairs have been formed and Madam Glynda has thoughts... I have none 'cause she so pretty.

- Nora Valkyrie and Lie Ren. Norse myths and I think Chinese background... Nora's inspiration is apparent. Can't figure out Ren's... They do have such cool names though. NOICE!

- Of course Jaune is a good student. And Ozpin is really invested in Ruby. Hmmm.

- Weiss' sky high pride meet Ruby's rising irritation... Ooooof. That spat was unnecessary. Don't be so rude Weiss. You really don't know Ruby.

- Blake and Yang are the first ones to make it?! Dream team!!! Go sapphics, go!!!

- The temple's a chessboard. Huh.

- Jaune and Pyrrha enter a cave (Why does this sound like an opening for a joke?)... Jaune's only contribution has been extinguished 'cause he clumsy. Warmth in places dark... Good sign?

- Yang and Blake decide on taking a pony. Equestrian folks would appreciate it.

- The chesspieces have yellow and black toppers. Huh.

- Jaune confused the yellow-tip of a monster for the relic. Classic. His girlish screams are doing something to Blake. Is this PTSD?

- The cave has a drawing of a scorpion being forced in. Oh Gods. I think there was similar art when Pyrrha and Jaune were entering initially. Either this is actually funny or I am too tired.

- Jaune goes flying out, Ruby comes flying in. Wonder what happened there.

- The Ren and Nora ending. Sounds a little like a spy theme. Huh. I didn't realise they showed symbols in the end credits as well. Ren's is like a leaf. Or is it a flower. And Nora's reminds me of a hammer. But with a needle on both ends of the part with which you hit. Hmmm.

(You spoil me, I spoil your life.

Them's the rules. So don't do it. Farewell!)

[mcflymemes]

AS SAID BY LACE HARDING - PARTY BANTER *  assorted banter from dragon age: the veilguard

don't just stand there!

what does it mean?

oh, that's just a me thing.

you didn't even list ten people!

our paths didn't cross much.

never would've guessed what he was planning.

that's a tricky question.

honestly, i don't know. i think about it, too.

it was a good question.

you can't kill someone for something they might do.

next time you need help moving furniture around your room, let me know.

i was going to come check, but then the noises stopped.

raw strength's important, but so is technique.

want me to show you?

did my tips help?

thank you for that new nightmare.

i don't know anymore.

i don't think an indifferent god is better than an evil one.

maybe things would have been better if they hadn't fought.

we don't know that.

i'm here now, and you're here now, and the best thing we can do is learn from the past.

i'm not arguing with that.

you're not one of them.

be kind to yourself.

romance looks good on you.

i was just trying to be nice!

what kind of questions, exactly?

are you waggling your eyebrows at me?

it's definitely... something.

yeah. we're together.

what exactly was in the basket?

don't worry about it. you weren't prying.

that's so sweet.

would you like some tea?

she just pops up whenever things get weird.

we'll probably never know why.

you've got a lot of trophies.

i wish there was something else we could do for them.

i still don't know why this happened.

what's that like?

i try to ignore it, but something's out there.

i don't know what happened.

how long did it take you to get used to it?

i don't drink. but thank you.

sometimes i get unpleasant thoughts or feelings, and i come out here.

i can't resist that face!

i'm surprised some of us still wear pants.

it's actually easy. maybe too easy?

i can totally see it.

i thought you'd be used to gruesome.

does magic ever make you feel... itchy?

it's... complicated.

do you really think so?

if you liked someone, what would you do? to show you liked them, i mean.

you've been... kinda preoccupied.

it was terrifying the first time it happened.

how did you become such a good cook, anyway?

that's why we don't work there anymore.

i only need one.

i'm afraid of what you are.

it's not personal.

do you ever wake up angry at someone for something they did in a dream?

you mentioned you don't sleep?

i know that face.

i was looking for you, actually.

i was just exaggerating.

you're watching me.

i dreamed about strawberry tarts last night.

do dreams actually mean anything?

what do you think this room was used for before?

this is a weird question, but do you think i could sit on your shoulders in battle one day?

there are people like you everywhere.

isn't that cheating?

whatever it is, it's not stupid. you can tell me.

are you all right? you're limping.

[theblasianwitch]

@creatingblackcharacters Is currently hosting an event for Black History Month. And I for one am so for it!!

Please have a look if you'd like to learn more about their challenge and participate

Not sure who to tag as I'm not sure how many people I know on here are artists or writers, but if you make things of any kind you can still participate. @crazycatsiren @thecomfywriter @venusrrvelez

For my contribution (the word feels wrong but my brain doesn't know what word to use at the moment): Szar Rei Ra, Jay Benu, Anthony Benu, Bora, Fiona Ra, and Xana.

In my series "Different Yet Same" I have many characters of varrying backgrounds. Everyone's background, upbringing, family history, and culture are as diverse as they are. I'm going to describe all of them, but put certain emphasis on one's I feel embody Black History and have something to offer in terms of being more culturally sensitive and understanding.

Szar Rei Ra is the main male character in my story. Without spoiling too much, he is a descendant of the Egyptian God Ra and has a heart for the people that was noticed and taken advantage of. Realizing and breaking away from that leads him into making a community of diverse individuals to help him with his role as an important figure for the future of the world on a whole.

Fiona Ra is Szar's older sister who was quite literally bound to the body and whims of a man via a curse placed by their older brother. She was released once the old patriarchal system was destroyed and is now trying to live life and use her divinity to help others while recovering from her trauma.

Jay and Anthony Benu are a married gay couple. Jay is from Libya and Anthony is from a secret society deep within West Africa. The creatures they are are based off of are from various African mythology but would be recognized, I hope, by my future readers from certain pop media of the 2000s where these creatures were white washed and Asian coated. The creatures they are heavily impact their outlook on life as Jay is more protective and pessimistic and Anthony is a symbol of life, prosperity and safety and is very optimistic. They serve as a hidden Easter egg to educate others on the origins and true nature of the creatures they are.

Bora is an intersex demi god who's upbringing led them to isolate themselves from society. In my second book they are forced to face the fact that they are one of the few gods on earth allowed to actually do anything for the people who have and still are suffering from the African Slave Trade and African Diaspora. The second book is very heavy on humanity suffering the consequences of their actions via divine intervention and having to come to terms with what they do and a need to change.

Xana is a North African bouda, a hyena shifter of African folklore and mythology, sometimes called a werehyena. Her story is part of the second book as well. Hyenas are a very female led and dominate species so her character and her people are used to show the determination and strength of Black women and just how much women do for society. Her people are one of the few matriarchal societies throughout the series.

I do hope people give my story the chance when it's first book is released in April. As a mixed race person who has suffered from all ends of my spectrum it serves to show just how connected we all are and to remind people of the humanity that exists within all of us. "There is nothing in this world that humanity hasn't done to another human." That is a quote that has stayed with me throughout my life as it is repeated quite a lot by my mother whenever injustice happens. World history, TRUE world history proves that and shows why so many people seem afraid of another set of people. Fear drives people more than anything, but we should not need to fear each other because we all bleed red; we all live on the same earth; we all are capable of the same emotions and therefore capable of both love and hate. All my life I've chosen love and only suffer from those who don't.