#i figured we can use this thread to either wrap it all up in a nice little bow

[silkchvffon]

closed for @invcntions surprise shawty !

SHIT. THAT'S WHAT THIS IS AND HOW SHE FEELS. and the vacation had been going so well too — dj had fallen into the pace of jaiden's family so fast, baking gingerbread cookies side by side with his mother, laughing at the numerous baby pictures of jai, being presented a matching christmas sweater. she had felt at home, which she doesn't much at all anymore. and then she'd fucked it all up. she's pacing outside of his bedroom door, unsure of where to even begin her sorry excuse of an explanation. truth is she'd kissed him because she wanted to. because it felt right — nothing's ever felt so right, and yet now her stomach hurts like she's swallowed rocks. she feels so stupid in her short light blue lace nightgown, even if he's seen her in it more times than she cares to count. everything feels weighted now. purposeful. bigger. she knocks rapidly before she loses whatever little bravery she's mustered, and when he opens dj can barely meet his eyes. « hi, sorry, i uh — can we — can we talk ? »

[sp0o0kylights]

Steve and Gareth as Cousins, no longer a warm-up and now called Lifelines, part three! I’ll throw it up on A03 when I finish the fourth part. 

Prior parts can be read here: Part One / Part Two 

First things first, the most amazing @ sereinpetrichor managed to track down the OG Twitter thread this runaway train is based off of! 

It was this thread by @gatorthots, the Tumblr version of which can be read, here.  All blame for this idea firmly rests on their brilliant, plot bunny inducing shoulders. 

The other, follow up thread I mentioned was this one by Silas, whose tumblr name I do not know. 

As always and forever, shout out to the most amazing @chalkysgarbagefire​ who helps me edit/plot/pats my head while I’m crying in their inbox bc the words aren’t wording right. 

Warnings: Steve and Robin are canon (S3) drugged. I took a slightly (kinda sorta) more realistic approach. Vomit mention, canon threat of violence/guns (the Russian guards) Mention of pantsing/past bullying, Steve and Robin’s drugged asses not understanding personal space, Dustin’s canon...Im gonna go with assholishness? but like, I think its more than he’s a young kid and doesn't quite have the emotional growth/awareness yet in this kind of insane situation to know how to react to the whole address/torture bit (really who does)/its a defense mechanism--and Gareth sort of has a panic attack. 

Whatever the hell they had been drugged with, Steve and Robin went from 'giggly happy fun time' to 'vomiting into toilet bowls while loudly wishing for death’ awfully fast. 

Gareth was not an expert on drugs. He knew Eddie wasn't either (the guy never dealt anything stronger than your average psychedelic--had some agreement with his Uncle about only selling "the 70s basics") and repeated looks towards him proved Eddie was still trying to figure out what Steve and Robin were on. 

Answers hadn't exactly been forthcoming--Eddie's gently made attempts at ferreting out information had only caused more confusion.

Like why the two of them were so freaked out about a gate, or what had made Robin gasp, and then laugh so hard she cried when Steve had made a particularly rough noise then muttered; "Even that sounds better than Tammy Thompson." 

Either way, Gareth was mostly trying to figure out what the hell they were going to do, because sobering up in a busy, public mall wasn't exactly the best idea. 

"I regret," Robin tried to say, in-between gagging. "I regret--hrk--" 

"Me too." Steve moaned, head resting against the stall wall. Gareth, still caught up in panic, had been permanently regulated to door guard while Eddie alternated between sweet talking, rubbing backs and offering quietly whispered advice. 

"Let's go back in time and ignore the whole silver cat thing." Robin continued, slumping back down onto the floor. 

"Wouldn't have mattered." Steve muttered. "Dustin would have figured it out without us. Kid’s too damn smart." 

"So?" Robin grumbled, quietly thanking Eddie as he once again brushed her hair out of her face. 

"So he would have gone down there anyway, which means I'd be down there anyway." Steve concluded. "We shouldn't have gotten you involved though." 

He shakily pushed himself up, staggering to his feet and looking like bambi on ice while doing it. 

Eddie quickly came round to offer his help, hands spread as Steve groaned out a curse and clutched his head.  

The older took a step forward right as Steve lurched back, unbalanced and shaky. 

 "Oh shit." He said, eyes wide as he crashed backwards into Eddie, the latter catching him with a grunt. 

Despite the entire situation, Gareth found himself stifling a laugh as Eddie wrapped his noodle arms around Steve's chest, trying to hold the other up without falling himself. 

"Come on big boy, why don't we just siiiit back down." Eddie said, slightly breathless as he helped guide Steve back to the floor. "There we go…"

They did so outside the bathroom stall, Eddie sinking into a kneel as Steve sort of flopped down on top of him. 

Blinked a few times, like the drop had rattled what little sense he’d managed to recover in the last few minutes. 

A pleased noise came out of his cousin's throat, and holy shit was Gareth going to have blackmail for life, because rather than vacate Eddie's lap, Steve just turned around in it. 

Reached up with one finger outstretched and proved himself to be very much still under the influence as he touched Eddie's nose.

"Boop!" He said, and then giggled as Eddie dropped onto his ass in surprise. 

Gareth watched Robin as she took the whole thing in, from Steve's snickers to Eddie's shocked expression, eyes growing wide in excitement. 

He failed entirely to cover his own amusement when Eddie abruptly found himself with two sailors invading his personal space, each taking turns to boop his nose. 

“Uh.” He managed to get out, blinking rapidly and at a loss for words. “Ah.” 

Steve caught the metalhead’s awkward, red-faced expression and proceeded to drop his head to Eddie's shoulder, muffling his laughter against the man's vest. 

The helpless look his best friend sent him was one Gareth would remember for a long time. 

“O-kay.” Eddie said, frazzled, as Steve recovered far too quickly, turning to rest his cheek against a slim shoulder as he walked two fingers up Eddie’s battle vest and towards his hair. Likewise, Robin had discovered Eddie’s wallet chain, and had begun fiddling with it. 

One finger curled around a strand of brown hair and Eddie jerked his head, removing the tempting piece away from Steve’s hands. 

“I know you’re used to getting whatever you want, your highness.” He said, his own hand smacking against his waist before Robin figured out the other end of his chain ended in a handcuff, “But you of all people should know the hair is off limits.” 

Completely undeterred, Steve just gave him a loose, easy grin. “It’s so pretty though.” He complained, fluttering his eyelashes in a blatant attempt to try and turn on the ol’ Harrington charm.  “You can touch mine if you want.” 

Yeah, Gareth’s blackmail was getting better by the second. 

He might even get a new piece for his drum kit out of it, if this kept up. 

Free weed too, considering Eddie’s blush was now fire-engine red. 

“Man,” Eddie said in a clear bid to deflect the entire situation (and Steve’s fingers) away from his hair, “the last time someone called me pretty was right before I got pantsed—-is Tommy H hiding in one of the stalls again?” 

Steve picked his head up, confusion crashing down his face. 

“Did he do that?” He asked. 

Then, with growing horror; “Do you think I’d do that?” 

Eddie raised an eyebrow. “Isn’t that your whole little court’s M.O.?” 

Steve sucked in a breath, looking downright hurt. "I wouldn’t do that." He insisted, eyes wheeling from Eddie to Gareth and back, as though hoping Gareth would back him up. 

“I’m not--I’m not friends with Tommy anymore.” Steve continued, voice growing smaller as he spoke. “I’m not friends with anybody anymore, except maybe Dustin.” 

It sounded so defeated; trodden on and subdued that Gareth stepped forward automatically, to do--something. 

Provide the fucking comfort his cousin was oft denied and hug the guy. 

As always, it turned out to be the wrong move. 

"Oh thank god." A kid said, seconds after bulldozing through the main door and nearly bowling Gareth over in the process. "I found them!" He shouted over his shoulder as swept into the room. 

“Speak of the devil.” Steve said flatly, and even drugged, he managed to pull himself back together from distressed to stoic in mere seconds. 

The curly-haired kid--Dustin apparently--stormed right up to the pile of humans splayed on the floor, hands on his hips. "What the hell. We told you two to stay put!" 

Steve rolled his eyes as Robin booed him. 

“Have you forgotten what’s happening? Or how we’re kinda in a Red Dawn situation?” Dustin continued, looking like he’d just escaped from a summer camp. 

The kid even had a walkie talkie clutched in one hand, of all things. 

“We know.” Steve and Robin deadpanned at once, before looking at each other; Steve pointing a finger towards Robin and Robin pointing one back. 

This caused the kids to trade their own long suffering, “can you believe this shit” faces. 

"We need to go, and the only way we’re gonna get out of here unnoticed is if we blend in with the crowd." Dustin said impatiently.  “Now come on Steve, get up already, you've had worse.”

"I really don't think I have." Steve muttered, but moved to push himself to his feet anyway. 

Eddie beat him to it, and he and Gareth both hovered nearby in case Steve was still unsteady. 

Thankfully, the kids' presence seemed to sober up Robin and Steve both. 

Not actually sober, that wasn't how drugs worked, but whatever was left of the fun was sucked right out of the bathroom, replaced by two teenagers who were sort of functional on whatever they'd been drugged with. 

Stress and adrenaline, Gareth knew, could overcome a lot of things. Including Russian "truth serum" apparently. 

“Yeah well you're lucky you got found by these guys and not anyone else. " Dustin continued pointedly, before turning his attention towards Gareth and Eddie both. "Thanks for watching our friends, but we've got them from here." 

Gareth made a sort of unhinged, disbelieving noise. 

 “No, no you do not.” He declared, anxiety clawing at his gut at the mere thought of abandoning Steve to two children. 

"I don't think you heard him." The girl stepped forward, braids swinging about her face as she lifted her chin and nailed him with a cold glare. 

 As if this entire situation couldn’t possibly get weirder, Gareth suddenly realized she had a helmet in her hands and knee pads on.

 "He said we got this. So scram." She flicked her fingers out in a dismissive sort of "shoo" gesture.

"And leave my drugged cousin with his new girlfriend behind!?" Gareth challenged right back, emotions far too raw and frayed to care he was snarling at a little girl. "I don’t think so!”

"Cousin!?" Dustin bit out, sounding almost betrayed for some reason, at the same time Robin who'd been climbing to her feet with Eddie’s help, shouted; "I am not his girlfriend!" 

Steve, clearly unwilling to entertain whatever fight was brewing, clapped his hands together. 

"Yes cousin, Dustin. It's a type of family member." Steve said, after they all flinched and looked to him. He at least looked steadier on his feet this time, though Gareth still lingered nearby in case he took a wrong step. 

"I know what a cousin is, Steve!" Dustin shot back. 

“Then why are you acting like a lunatic?” Steve complained, and Gareth got to watch in real time as Steve pulled on the persona he often wore in high school down around him. “You said it yourself, we don’t have a lot of time. Worse, I don't know if anyone saw Gareth and Munson here with us.” 

He jerked a thumb sideways in Eddie’s direction, not that anyone couldn’t figure out who “Munson” was. 

“They stay with us until we’re out of this mall.” Steve finished, before he started towards the door.

One step he was Gareth’s cousin, drugged and vulnerable because of it. 

The next he stood taller, talked smoother, took charge with an aurora that said he expected everyone to listen to him. 

It was fake as hell, but it worked. 

“I know you’ve got a plan Dustin, so spill it.” He commanded as he walked.  

 Dustin, despite all the squawking, did just that. 

xXx 

Of all the things Gareth had expected to see upon escorting their little ragtag crew out of the bathroom, groups of intimidating, mean looking assholes wasn’t on the list. 

He found himself repeatedly nudging Eddie in the ribs, unable to take his eyes off what was clearly a checkpoint as he staggered to a halt. 

It was one thing to be told people were after Steve and the “Scoop’s Troop” As Robin had jokingly named them. 

It was another entirely to see the security guard directly in front of him look over a woman’s ID before apologizing to her, a sleazy grin matching his oily pony-tail as he waved her on. 

They really were looking for someone. 

Not someone, Gareth realized in dawning horror.

Them. 

Robin apparently, came to the same conclusion seconds later, because she snatched Steve and Dustin’s arms both, hauling them backwards. 

“Argue about Dustin’s address later, we need to find a different way out.” She hissed quietly as she tried to slowly reversed direction, movements still a bit sloppy. 

She might have even gotten away with it, had Sleazy Pony-Tail not turned and made eye contact with Gareth right after she spoke. 

His eyes swept over him, then to the rest of the group, freezing like a cat that had spotted its prey.

“Abort, abort!” Dustin sputtered, wheeling about on his heel. 

Erica, whose name Gareth had learned when she kicked him in the shin after he asked why an actual infant was running around with Steve and Robin, pointed towards the escalators before she beelined over to it, ducking into the center and riding it down like a slide. 

Something Eddied was downright delighted to copy. 

Gareth might have enjoyed it himself, had he not been looking over his shoulder to see not one, not two, but four security guards giving chase--and gaining. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuckikity fuck.” He heard Robin chant as she shot past, Steve planting himself at the top as he made sure everyone got down to the next level before sliding down himself. 

"Do not let them leave!" One of the guards yelled to the others, accent clear as a bell. 

"Holy shit that guy's actually Russian." Gareth found himself saying as he skidded across the floor and bolted after the others, Steve hot on his heels. 

He had kinda expected the Russian thing to be some sort of drug influenced inside joke and not an actual, honest-to-God Soviet. 

Which led to the question of why the fuck adult men in security uniforms had drugged random teenage retail workers.

Food workers.

Whatever the fuck one called a two people who scooped ice-cream in sailor costumes. 

"There's another group up ahead!" Eddie yelped, swerving sideways and nearly taking Erica out while doing it. 

Noise erupted ahead of them in the form of foreign shouting and loud, harshly barked commands to “Freeze!”  

‘Oh hell no.’ Gareth thought wildly, as he caught the form of the giant fricken gun the guard closest to him held. 

“Split up!” Dustin howled, and before anyone could comment about how bad an idea that was, Gareth found himself being yanked sideways. 

Steve swore loudly behind him as Robin, who’d crashed backwards, pulled him in the opposite direction and in a second their group broke in two. Gareth, Eddie and Dustin going one way, Steve, Robin and Erica another. 

"This isn’t happening." Gareth muttered, words made in a sort of pleading denial as he and Eddie turned the corner and immediately vaulted over the counter of an Orange Julius. “I smoked or drank or did something and this is a hallucination that is not. Actually. Happening.” 

Dustin at least, was smart enough to dive around the counter instead of over it, sliding towards them on his knees. 

Eddie quickly yanked him down to the floor in-between himself and Gareth once he was close enough to grab, one hand going over the hat to shove the kids head down. 

Annoying or not, he was at least several years younger than them, and Gareth could practically feel Eddie’s protective instinct kick in as he kept his hand on Dustin’s head. 

Together they tried to silence their breathing as the guards’ shouting continued on behind them. 

What was worse than their noises though, was when they unexpectedly and suddenly, went silent. 

Gareth’s breath felt far too loud as the stillness gained a suppressive weight, pressing down harshly against him and making it harder and harder to inhale. 

‘Panic attack.’ He realized, thoughts a touch detached. ‘You can’t afford to have a panic attack right now.’ 

Not when it had a high chance of getting them all killed. 

Slowly he moved his own free hand, placing it atop of Eddie’s, fingers gripping down in a way that was no doubt painful. 

Eddie glanced over to him and Gareth thanked every single time he’d smoked way too much weed, because his best friend immediately clocked what was wrong. 

Turned his hand over, so that Gareth could hold onto it atop Dustin’s hat. 

It didn’t help with the knowledge that his very much still drugged cousin and his equally drugged not-girlfriend were also hiding somewhere, or that there was significantly more Russians than there where terrified teenagers (and one--whatever age Erica was.)  

Flashlights cut shapes into the wall overheard, trailing along the Orange Julius menu. Quiet voices covered even quieter footsteps and Gareth had the sudden realization the probability of there being more than one guard carrying a huge gun, was very, very high. 

Worse?

This part of the mall wasn’t that big. There were only so many places to hide, and as such, only so many places to look. 

Death comes for everyone eventually, but Gareth hadn’t exactly expected it to show up before he hit twenty.

Not that they could do anything but wait. Pray to God and the universe and any other higher power he could think of to intervene, head pressed hard against the wood behind him as the small noises drew nearer.

What he hadn’t expected was for said prayers to get answered in the form of a of a fucking car being thrown into the Russian’s like bowling balls. 

“Run!” Dustin shouted, and Gareth wasted absolutely no time in doing just that. 

The only goal on his mind was to find Steve, get out, and then have a very long discussion about what the hell this all was, in that exact order. 

[apomaro-mellow]

King and Prince 29

Part 28

“Summer will be upon us soon”, Nancy said while scribbling away on some parchment.

“Mhm, that means a new crop of squires, ready to start their trials”, Eddie was lounging on a chaise, playing with a mess of thread in his hands.

“You know I can’t give Lucas any special treatment. Not because he’s my brother’s friend, nor your paramour’s protege.”

Eddie turned over onto his stomach to look at Nancy sitting at her desk, his eyes sparkling. It wasn’t quite the reaction she had been expecting. He had heard her, right? That she wouldn’t be giving anyone preferential treatment? She never did.

“You think Steve and I could be paramours?”

“....I swear you only hear half the words I say.”

“I heard you loud and clear. I just don’t think Lucas will need a leg up or anything like that. But your thoughts on me and the little prince would be news to me.”

Nancy let out a breath. “I don’t think there’s anything inherently wrong with you pursuing him.”

“The ‘but’ is so loud you might want to get your intestines checked.”

“But, you should know you’re playing with fire. Even if he’s been unofficially disowned, he’s still a prince. One whose family has wished for our destruction. If this goes to your favor and you are wed, have you thought about what your subjects might say?”

Eddie stopped fiddling with the thread. “I have. And I’ve decided that while I am open to hearing concerns, I’m not giving up on him. Anyone with a problem with that can take it up with me personally.”

“Hm. I thought as much. Just don’t, you know, burn the whole kingdom just for him.”

“Do you really think I’m that far gone?”, Eddie asked.

Nancy thought about how she’d seen Eddie around the training grounds more and more and how that had everything to do with Steve taking Lucas under his wing. And because of that, she deigned not to answer.

-----------------------

“You really think I’ll pass?”, Lucas asked, panting as he put his wooden sword away.

Steve was wiping the sweat off of himself with a cloth. “I think you’re one of the most passionate kids I’ve ever met. You’re on your way to mastering swordplay and archery. You’re going to ace this.”

“So like, are you planning on actually marrying Eddie?”, Lucas asked.

He wasn’t the only one curious. Everyone in the castle was abuzz with this new development and of course, the news began to move from within the walls to outside of it. The gossip traveled and everyone had their own spin on it. The king was courting a young man was what everyone got right. But as to the identity of that man, people couldn’t quite agree.

He was a prince, no a duke, no an earl, no he wasn’t from the aristocracy at all. He was in his thirties, no his twenties, no he was only fifteen because he was around the children of the castle often, no he was, but as a mentor so he had to be at least a few years older. He was very handsome, no he just looked okay, well their immortal king had written so much about his appearance so he must be ethereal. The king had written a few, no many, no an entire tome’s worth of letters courting him.

“Either way, can you imagine it? A royal wedding?”

Jason could hear some woman prattle on with his mother while he wrapped up a few chops in the back.

“I can’t even imagine what that would look like”, his mother replied. “King Edward has never done anything like this.”

“He must truly be in love. And if the rumors are true, he’s a real bonafide prince.”

Jason slammed the meat down onto the counter, jolting them both. “Has anyone figured out which kingdom?”

“Oh, this is all just gossip, Jason”, Mrs. Carver said. “If His Majesty is truly courting with foreign royalty, it would be for the good of our kingdom.”

“Well how do we know it isn’t completely selfish? How do we know he didn’t just snatch someone up?”

“He wouldn’t do that.”

“Or how about this? If they are a prince? How do we know his intentions are pure?”

“Oh you’re being paranoid”, his mother said placatingly. She muttered something to the lady about him recently breaking things off with a lover and the woman nodded sagely before grabbing her order and leaving.

But it wasn’t as simple as all that to Jason. He alone, knew the truth of what was happening and yet he had to hear misinformation everywhere he went. In his own family shop, on the streets, even in the tavern. The very place he had met Steve one night and while he was trying to drink himself to numbness, he had to listen to a group of guys sitting at a table, trading rumors about Steve’s true identity.

“He’s not what you think he is”, Jason finally spoke up, pushing his drink away.

“Huh?”

“What’s the butcher’s boy going on about?”

“The man our king is trying to tie himself to”, Jason clarified as he stood up from the bar and walked over to their table. “He’s a lying snake.”

“And what do you know about him?”

“I know him too well. Met him right here, even talked to him at this very table. He looked sweet. Until he wasn’t.”

The men scoffed and that riled up Jason enough to raise his voice, garnering the attention of the other patrons. Even the musician in the corner stopped playing. Emboldened, Jason continued.

“His name is Steve. And he would come into town. He would, he would spread his legs and break hearts and damn those he left behind.”

“Ahh, he’s just a spurned lover”, someone commented.

“That’s how it was at first!”, Jason quickly regained control of the conversation. “I thought I was just another person on his trail, to be left behind when he moved to the next town because that’s what he led me to believe. That he was just a traveler. But then he gave me this letter. This letter told me everything and now I know the truth.”

When no one interrupted him, he kept going, telling them of the kingdom that Steve had come from. That he was a Harrington, someone who had actively pushed against their borders and that wasn’t enough for them. People began to leave, not wanting to hear the drunken ravings of a man who had been dumped.

But the seed had already been planted. And the longer this courtship went on without an official decree, the more doubt began to spread among the people. The story turned from their wise king finally giving his heart to someone, to an invasion in the form of a seduction.

“Why else would he be going after our king, huh?”, Jason posed the question to a crowd that gathered outside the butcher shop. “He was literally walking these streets, stringing people along, he could’ve had anyone. But he goes for the most powerful man in the country. Nothing he ever did made sense to me but when I got this-” He brandished the letter, crumpled but still legible.

“This made everything so much more clear. Within those walls”, he pointed to the castle, “Is an imminent danger. Today it’s just him, tomorrow it could be his whole army at our doorstep.”

-------------------------

Eddie was pretty good at keeping his ear to the ground. So he could tell almost immediately when the rumor mill began to turn against him and Steve. He hadn’t wanted to make an official announcement and thus thrust Steve back into the royal spotlight too soon. But what was happening was getting too much to ignore.

He knew of it, even before his council brought it to his attention. He was pacing about in a sitting room, Robin, Nancy, and Jeff there as he figured out how to bring it up to Steve, and how to move forward. Of course, as if summoned, Steve pushed the doors open and stomped in.

“Have you heard what they’re saying about you?!”

“I have”, Eddie said. “As well as what they’re saying about you.”

“It can’t stand. He can’t talk about his king that way. That isn’t why I gave him that letter!”

Eddie came over to Steve, clutching his hands. “Has anyone ever told you how beautiful you look with the fire of righteousness blazing in your eyes?”

Steve would have been embarrassed to say how fast he melted if it wasn’t for the fact that it came with how warm Eddie’s gaze was on him. It almost made him forget why he had come in here in the first place. 

“As I was s-saying, you can’t let this stand. You can’t keep letting him spread these lies about you.”

“What lies? You came from another country with the sole intent to seduce your way to my throne”, Eddie teased, bringing Steve’s knuckles up to his lips.

“Is that how it happened? Because I remember carting a package and dumping it in the dungeon”, Nancy piped up.

“I remember you handing him off to me with little regard”, Robin added.

Jeff started, “And I seem to recall-”

“Now those are lies and slander that I will not allow”, Eddie said. “I have always treasured you above all, my sweet.”

Steve rolled his eyes. “Don’t try and change our story, I was there for it. I will say, I think I’m getting to my favorite part…”

“Hey your faces need to be six inches apart at all times”, Jeff reminded.

“We are such good chaperones”, Robin shook her head.

“Eddie, let me do this for you”, Steve said, taking a step back from him.

Eddie’s brow raised. “Do what?”

“Fight for your honor.”

Part 30

Taglist CLOSED

@thesuninyaface @only-evanescent  @snakeorsquid  @ignoremyworld  @theclichefortunecookie 

@goodolefashionedloverboi  @just-a-tiny-void  @0body0disphoria0  @cinnamon-mushroomabomination  @samsoble 

@jamieweasley13  @y4r3luv  @xtkxkrzrizir  @un-knownperson  @greekgeek24 

@justdrugsformethanks  @potato-of-the-lord  @notaqueenakhaleesi  @swimmingbirdrunningrock  @queenie-ofthe-void 

@nebulainajar  @lil-gremlin-things  @nicememerino  @robininblue  @hornedqueenofhell 

@anne-bennett-cosplayer  @moomkin77  @here4thetrama  @bookworm0690  @autumncrocusandladybug

@lil-gremlin-things @littlebluejane @puppy-steve

[rinhaler]

PRELUDE

CHAPTER SUMMARY : Your best friend Chigiri is hanging out at your place helping you wrap gifts for the holidays. Weird coincidence that your ex-boyfriend's brother texts you while you're talking about him with an invitation to visit the Itoshi family cabin!

ex-fiancé!rin x f!reader

WARNINGS : 18+, alchol consumption, mentions of a breakup.

WORDS : 1k

notes: SOOOOO nervous to share this but I hope u all enjoy :3

               MASTERLIST ┊ NEXT CHAPTER

“Do you miss him, still?” Hyoma asks, helping you wrap gifts to deliver to your family throughout the week. His question halts you, momentarily, before you shrug the thought away. “I get it, this time of year makes you think about things like that too much.”

You sigh, finishing one present and placing it in a tall gift bag before starting another.

“I don’t have any right to miss him, right? I ended things…” you try to laugh at yourself so you don’t cry, but Hyoma knows you too well, he knows how sensitive you are. He knows how you try and downplay your feelings so that you don’t make others feel uncomfortable.

But he knows you.

“It’s a big change, though.” he reminds you, “Cut yourself some slack.”

“Anyway!” you giggle, still trying to hide your true feelings before you burst into tears. “I’m dreading Christmas. I’m meant to be seeing my parents on different days, my dad has a new girlfriend who is younger than me. It’s so weird.”

“I told everyone I’m working so I don’t have to see anyone all week.” he smirks, laughing a little when he sees you staring at him with a look of horror. It’s kind of genius, really, you’re a little jealous you didn’t think of it. “It’s my birthday week, I choose peace.” he tells you, defending his choice.

“I love your birthday.” you tell him, finishing up another present. You stand up so you can stretch your body, sitting on the ground is definitely taking its toll. You end up yawning loudly as your body relaxes, but you feel a surge of energy as you look down and see a notification on your phone.

SAE: hey, are u doing anything next week?

“Um…” you say, pacing around a little as you read the text over and over. You catch Chigiri’s attention, he finishes wrapping the last item and puts it in the bag for your dad. “Sae just texted me.”

“Sae? What did he say?” he wonders, pulling his body up so he’s sitting on the couch behind him rather than the cream, fur rug in the middle of the hardwood floor. “You’re still in touch with him?!”

“Well, y-yeah! I figured I broke up with Rin, not his family, so…” you explain, sitting next to him on the couch and showing him the text. His eyes widen, surprised at what he’s asking. “Once we started getting along we were close! I didn’t feel right about cutting him off too… should I reply?”

“I don’t know. This is weird.”

You roll your eyes and look at the text thread again.

YOU: it’s chig’s bday and I’m seeing family! wbu? SAE: my parents are in Europe for the holidays so I’m heading up to the cabin with some friends. Interested?

“Oh my God.” you speak, showing Chigiri your phone.

“Stop calling me Chigs.” he scolds you, focusing again to read the most recent text. “Shit. What’re you gonna say?”

YOU: can’t! hyoma will be alone for his bday if I come 💔

“Don’t use me as an excuse!” he chastises you. “If you wanna go, go.”

“I don’t want to… what if Rin is there?”

SAE: bring him. SAE: there’s more than enough room.

Your heart is racing. You only realise how much when Hyoma reminds you to breathe. Even your hands are trembling as you hold your phone. He doesn’t say anything in way of an answer if he’d like to come or not, he’s leaving it in your hands.

“I- it’s your birthday, Hyoma!”

“I don’t have plans! We’ll either spend it together at home or spend it together in a rich boy’s cabin.” he assures you. You smile, weakly, appreciative of the support. But there’s no way you can go. You can’t face Rin after everything, not yet, maybe not ever. “Whatever you wanna do, I’ll support you!”

You look down at your phone again, still having no idea what to say.

SAE: Rin won’t be there, that’s why I’m inviting you. YOU: … YOU: why? Let me guess, training? SAE: yeah. SAE: so… YOU: ugh… fine! If ur sure he won’t be there SAE: I’ll send the address 😊

“What am I doing?” you ask Chigiri, tossing your phone down onto the coffee table before turning to face him. He laughs, leaving you alone to open a bottle of Disaronno. “Hyoma… it’s 11am.”

He shrugs, “It’s Christmas.”

You laugh, watching him pour two small glasses for you both. The two of you get comfortable on the couch, facing each other, as you begin to dissect what just happened. He pulls the blanket down from the back of the sofa and you both struggle to adjust it with one hand each, neither of you willing to put down your drink.

Disaronno is dangerous, because it tastes so good. You drink it, lots of it, forgetting it isn’t in fact Dr Pepper in a glass. You both end up wasted, forgetting everything that just happened.

You look at your sparse Christmas tree, feeling a wave of sadness as you remember this time last year you and Rin had decorated it together.

“I do miss him…” you tell Chigiri after a lull of silence, lip wobbling as you think fondly of your ex. Chigiri shakes his head, though, taking another big gulp of a much larger drink.

“Don’t start.” he insists.

You sigh, putting your drink down and taking a few deep breaths. He tries to distract you with nonsensical chit chat, though it doesn’t really help. Rin is still at the forefront of your mind, no matter how hard you try and push him away. Who’s stupid idea was it to drink at 11am? Hyoma’s! It’s all his fault you’re in your fucking feelings.

“Hey, I’ve been wondering something…” he tells you, tilting his head as he thinks. “How are you gonna get out of seeing your parents for Christmas?”

You look at him, dumbfounded. You lean back over to the coffee table to grab your drink without taking your eyes off him. It’s gone in one swig, so he tops it up again. And you devour that, too.

“… Fuck.”

© 2023 rinhaler

[mxltifxnd0m]

𝗔𝗡𝗜𝗗𝗔𝗟𝗔 𝗩𝗦 𝗦𝗖𝗢𝗨𝗡𝗗𝗥𝗘𝗦𝗦

»——•——«»——•——«

Summary: You and Stiles can’t choose a couples costume

Pairings: Stiles Stilinski x fem! Reader, Scott McCall x platonic fem! Reader 

Words: 1.6K

»——•——«»——•——«

Warnings: no use of y/n, fluff, language, suggestive, spicy, implied smut, BUT NO SMUT, kinda a college au!

A/N: This was intended to be released in October, but I could not figure out how to finish it for my life. But hey, better late than never, am I right? Anyway I had no clue that Han and Leia’s ship name was Scoundress, but the more you know. Also, it is my first time writing for Stiles!

not beta read but YOLO

𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘭𝘦𝘴 𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘴𝘬𝘪 𝘮𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘵

»——•——«»——•——«

"I don't know why you insist we should be Anakin and Padme! We would fit Leia and Han more for Halloween." Stiles whispered harshly, not looking up from the notebook that he was scribbling in.

You roll your eyes at him, "What are you talking about? I said we could do either, but I'd prefer if we were Anakin and Padme." You whisper to him. His head snaps up to protest, but a chair scrapes along the carpeted floor and interrupts Stiles. 

"There you guys are! I was wondering where you were." Scott says a little too loud, and the people at the other tables surrounding you and Stiles give Scott a dirty look.

"Scott, I know you don't visit the library often, but we typically use our inside voices." You whisper as he sits down next to Stiles. Scott shoots you a glare. 

"Anyways, I disagree. We should be Leia and Han, and that's final." You can see that Stiles is done with the conversation.

You squint suspiciously at your boyfriend, "You just want to see me in Leia's slave outfit from ROTJ, don't you?" You can see a red flush creep up Stiles's face and the tips of his ear as he stammers, trying to defend himself before giving up and returning to his notes. You chuckled under your breath to avoid disturbing the other students. 

Scott looks between the two of you, confused, "What are you guys even talking about?" 

"We are trying to figure out what costume we will wear to the party your frat is hosting." You explain, your voice low, "But we are split between two costumes. I want us to be Anakin and Padme, but Stiles-" He snaps up at the call of his name, focusing on the conversation, "-wants us to be Leia and Han." You glare at Stiles. 

"I thought Luke and Leia were together?" Scott says cluelessly. Both you and Stiles groan loudly at Scott's words. A girl from a nearby table glares at you and shushes you. You apologize quietly and turn your gaze to Scott. 

"We've gone over this before Scott. Luke and Leia are siblings, and Han and Leia are together. Do you just forget the movies as soon as we watch them?" Stiles asked exasperatedly. 

"No, I tend to fall asleep halfway through the marathons," Scott says guiltily as he scratches the back of his neck. Stiles closes his eyes and uses his hand to rub his face frustratedly. Stiles murmured something under his breath, and Scott's face screwed up into an offended expression.  

"I heard that." 

"Yeah, no shit, you did. I'm the one who said it for your little werewolf ears to hear." Stiles scoffed quietly at Scott. 

Scott goes to retort, but you snap your fingers twice to get their attention. "As much as I would love to see the two of you bicker, we all know how loud you guys get when you do, and I don't fancy getting kicked out of the library." You smile sardonically at them. They roll their eyes at you but yelp in pain as you lean over the table and tug their ears. 

"Could you guys be quiet? Some people are studying." The girl from earlier whispered firmly to you guys. 

You wince at her tone, "Sorry, we're leaving now." You whispered. You glared at Scott and Stiles and started to pack up your things to leave the library. Stiles scrambled to pack his things, and the two boys followed you outside the library. 

Stiles wraps an arm around your shoulder as you walk through the quad. You thread your fingers through his hand, and he squeezes your hand three times. The annoyed expression melted off your face, and a smile replaced it. You take a quick glance at your phone, checking the time. 

Your eyes widen, "Shit! I have to go! My class starts in 10 minutes." You untangle yourself, "Our discussion isn't over." You tell Stiles before separating yourself from him, pecking his cheek, and waving goodbye at the both of them as you speed walk to your class. 

»——•——«»——•——«

The sound of a keyboard clacking echoes through your silent bedroom. You're hunched over your laptop on your bed as you work on one of your papers for your English class. Lofi beats play quietly in your headphones as you read through your paper for the final time before returning to it tomorrow to edit it. A knock at your bedroom door catches your attention. 

"Yeah, what's up?" You say to your roommate as she peaks her head into your room. 

"You have a visitor." She says with a knowing smirk on her face. 

You roll your eyes at her, smiling, "Tell him he's actually banned from the apartment, then let him in." You instruct as you remove your headphones and stretch your back from your hunched position.  

She nods and closes your door before leaving. You can hear the voice of your roommate and Stiles's voice talking lowly in the apartment's entryway. You hear a scoff from Stiles and footsteps quickly entering the apartment and heading toward your room. He burst through your door, pointing at you. 

"You are so mean, you know that?" Stiles says with a slight pout on his face. He removed his backpack and toed off his shoes to leave near your door. He stands in the doorframe for a moment before you see a mischievous glint passes through his eye, and you catch it. 

"Stiles." You say his name warningly. 

He sends you an innocent smile before quickly running towards you and jumping onto your bed. You yelp loudly, closing your laptop and moving it out of the way of Stiles's landing. He lands on top of you, effectively pinning you to the bed. You can feel Stiles's chest move from his giggling fit as you try to squirm from underneath him. You give up after trying to push him off of you and thread your hand through his hair, scratching his scalp. He relaxes on top of you, settling his total weight on you. After a few minutes, he eventually rolls off you and sits on your bed.

"Any reason as to why you're at my apartment?" You ask him as you sit up and shift until your back rests against your headboard. You go to grab your laptop, but it's quickly moved from out of your reach, and you turn to glare at your boyfriend. 

"Oh, don't give me that look, you know what that does to me babe." Stiles sarcastically as he moves your laptop to your desk. 

"Besides, I'm here to present my argument as to why we should be Han and Leia for Halloween and not Anakin and Padme." Stiles moves closer to you and boops your nose after he finishes his sentence. You scrunch your nose at his actions and shake your head at him.  

"Nope, not going to hear it." 

He groans loudly, "I knew I shouldn't have asked you out, you prefer the prequels over the originals." He flops down on your bed, his head landing on your lap as his legs dangle over the side of the bed. 

"Is that your way of saying that we should break up?" You raise an eyebrow at him. 

He shot up from your lap, "NO! Absolutely not. You're like the woman of my dreams. I'd be an idiot if I broke up with you. Especially with the amount of shit we went through together in high school. I actually had dreams about marrying you, so-" His hands wave wildly as he begins to ramble. You roll your eyes at him and grab his chin to kiss his mouth to shut him up. He immediately shuts up and melts into the kiss. You peck his lips before pulling away. 

"You're such a dork." You smile at Stiles. 

"You're dating this dork." 

"Yeah, maybe Lydia was right. I am out of your league." You joke, and a noise of offense comes from Stiles. You chuckle at his pouty expression and peck his lips.

"I'm kidding babe." You say as you pull away. You move around the bed to straddle him, your thighs on either of his hips, his hands coming to rest on your waist, and you rest your arms on his shoulders. 

"How about we make a compromise? We go as Anakin and Padme this year, and then we can go as Han and Leia next Halloween." Stiles opens his mouth to respond, but you quickly put a finger in front of his lips. 

"I wasn't done, and to sweeten the deal, I'll wear Leia's slave outfit underneath both costumes." You lean closer to Stiles, "How does that sound." You whisper seductively in his ear and plant a kiss underneath it before pulling back to see his whiskey-colored eyes darkening slightly with desire. His hands tighten around your waist before flipping the two of you around, you landing on your back. At the same time, Stiles settles in between your open legs and hovering above you. 

"It doesn't sound fair, but if you wear the outfit often then I'll let it slide." He says lowly, lowering his face closer to yours. 

"Deal." You say breathily, your lips brushing his as you speak. 

"Deal." He says before smashing his lips against yours passionately. Your hands begin to wander and tug at each other's clothes. The room slowly grows hot and fills with low groans and whines coming from both of you. After you finished, you guys showered, went out to get the costumes, and tried them on when you returned to the apartment. 

Let's just say the slave outfit came off as soon as you put it on. 

[bellarkeselection]

Knew Better But Still Picked You pt 2

Gif belongs to @miyagiverse

Part One Part three

Jackie has some rules set for the reader and Cole that might be hard for them to follow.

Tag list- send me an ask to be added @cognacdelights @connieisthesun @bbabycass

Cole shrugged some jeans up his legs while I tossed one of his tea shirts over my head. Tying my hair up in a messy braid. Jackie had stomped out of the bedroom and down the stairs clearly frustrated. “So how bad do you think she’s going to be about…us?”

“I have no clue. I’ve never seen her this concerned for me before since we’ve been friends forever.” I responded by slipping some socks on my feet sitting down on his bed.

Cole throws a blue tea shirt on coming over to me wrapping his arms around my waist tugging me to his embrace. “We could just stay upstairs for the day. To avoid my parents' possible wrath on both of us. What do you say?”

“Cole..” I warned him by draping my arms over his shoulders.

He leans down since he was taller than me, kissing me slowly. “How about now?”

“We can’t hide away.” I attempted to say while he kissed me again a little more passionately as if that would convince me and I hate to admit that it might be working.

The older Walter boy in front of me cupped my face in his hands. “The way you’re reacting says otherwise….jump.” I leaned into his embrace, moving my arms around his neck threading my fingers through his honey hair. He moaned when I did so and he moved his hands down where I jumped wrapping my legs around his waist but that’s as far as we got.

“Cole. Y/n, can you come downstairs now!” His father hollered where we broke the kiss.

Cole sighed and I could feel his muscles tense up. “Oh boy. Are you sure we can’t just sneak out the back door and go to the riverside?”

“Unless your parents don’t know about that place and Jackie’s phone has terrible cell service she’ll find us no problem. We have to go, Cole.” I explained to him running my right hand through his hair getting some of it out of his bright green eyes.

He lowered me to the wooden floor and planted a kiss on my forehead. We still held hands coming down the stairs until we reached the third to last step. His parents and my best friend were standing in the kitchen with angry looks on their faces. “You wanted to talk with us?” Cole stated calmly.

“Do you want to explain to us why Jackie is saying she wants us to forbid you two to be together?” His mother Catherine scowled hands on her hips.

Cole pretended to play like he was clueless. “I have no idea.”

“Me either.” I shrugged my shoulders following along with him.

Cole's father glared at his son. “Cole, don't joke around about this. We know Jackie isn't a liar. So I'd suggest you tell us the truth.”

“I don’t have anything to hide.” I replied.

Jackie stomped up, ending up in between us and the Walter parents. “Come on, you two. I know that you're lying to them. I saw you two laying in his bed this morning!”

“Okay, fine. Yes we were sleeping together in his bed. But not in the way that you think I swear.” Holding my hands up I figured it would be safer if we only lied about the horse riding and kissing last night between us.

His father glanced at his son, leaning against the fridge. “Cole, just tell us exactly what happened and your punishment won't be as bad since we already learned about you sneaking girls out of the house without our knowledge.”

“Which will never be acceptable in this house ever.” Catherine waved her index finger at him.

Cole dropped his gaze to the wooden floor and I felt him reach for my hand. I wanted to support whatever he was about to say but I still drew back keeping my hands clasped together in front of me. “Look you guys, I am not hooking up with Y/n. I just hung out with her last night and she didn’t want to wake New York up so she slept in my room with me.”

“Fine, if that’s all you're going to tell me then let's get onto the part that I came up with.” Jackie turned on her feet to the Walter parents. “Are you still open to the ideas that I came up with for going behind my back?”

Catherine shifted her gaze between us. “Jackie is very upset that you two lied to her about this. So we have decided that you two are grounded here for the evening.”

“What-” I gasped, never being grounded before in my life.

Mr. Walter leaned his palms on the island. “And if you don’t get all the chores done then you can't go to the homecoming prep rally.”

“I didn't want to go anyway. “ Cole shrugged his shoulders not fazed.

Turning my head in his direction I admit weakly. “I want to go. I've never been at anything like that in the city.”

“Oh…” Cole replied giving me a guilty expression.

Jackie moved forward grabbing my arm and dragged me out onto the porch so we could talk alone about this. “Jackie, this is ridiculous. We didn't sleep together.”

“But you did do something with him. I can see it in your eyes, Y/n. You're closer to him than you were a few days ago. He reached for your hand I saw it.” She throws her arms away from her sides.

Dragging my hands down my face I groaned at her. This was getting ridiculous that she is so concerned for my heart. “Jackie, I don't want to be having this conversation with you. You also had no right to involve his parents in this.” I appreciate it the support. But I haven't had a boyfriend yet so how was I supposed if he would be bad or good for me.

“If you just tell me what happened last night I'll go inside and tell them I overreacted. You just have to tell me the truth.” She crossed her arms over her chest.

Shoving my hands in my pockets I huffed. “I shouldn't have to tell my whole life story. You're supposed to just trust me since I'm your best friend and you consider me to be your sister.”

“If I consider you like family then there's no problem in telling me.” She pressed onward.

Stomping my boots into the gravel drive I snapped at her not being able to handle it anymore. “Urgh! You wanna know what happened between Cole and me…we kissed. We kissed after he took me horse riding to see the stars. That's what happened between us!”

“You freaking kissed him!” Jackie raised hee voice at the same time the front door opened and Cole walked past us seeing her death glare as he went straight for the barn.

Whipping my head around I ran toward the barn leaving my best friend ending our conversation with her. “Cole!” Leaning in the doorway with my hands on either side of the stall with his horse, he avoided my gaze brushing his horse.

“Hey Y/n.” He mumbled.

I opened the door coming to stand closer to him so he'd possibly look me in the eye. “Cole, please look at me. I didn't want to tell anything about last night. Last night was something that I wanted to be my own thing that no one could take away from me. But now she's made me put it out in the open.”

“It doesn’t matter that she knows about the kiss last night. I just don’t want to talk about it anymore we have chores to do.” He grumbled walking out of the stall and gently pushing me out of the way so he could lock the stall.

Spinning around in my boots I snapped back at him. “If you’re bring an ass to make my best friend right I don't like it. I already told you that I chose you when everyone else tells me I should stay away.”

“I'm not trying to make her happy. I am trying to stay away from you. But I can't avoid being around you.” Cole spun around on his feet getting close to me where there was almost no space between us.

I parted my lips eyeing the side of his jacket pocket where I knew he had slipped his keys inside before we went downstairs and clearly his parents didn't know. “Then let's run away somewhere they don't know about. Like Romeo and Juliet but obviously not dying.”

“Are you sure you're not a little afraid of any danger, Y/n?” He questioned me, focusing his green eyes.

Closing the gap I wrapped my arms around his neck pressing up against him as much as I could. “I'm choosing to be with you aren’t I Cole Walter. Danger can be my new middle name. So let’s run away for the night.”

“Running away isn't showing them I'm a good influence on you…But I don't want to be apart from you now.’ He declared looping my hand through his and he peaked around seeing that the lights in the house had been shut off meaning everyone was asleep. He led me to his truck and I climbed in hearing him Starr the engine racing away from the ranch.

Pulling out my phone I turned my location off knowing Jackie would track me. Leaning back in the seat I put my hand over his freehand. “You are honestly more fun then I'd thought you'd be, Cole.”

“I was thinking the same thing about you, Y/n.” He intertwined our fingers together and the rest of the drive through the night was comfortable silence with both our hearts racing with adrenaline and fear.

Comments really appreciated ❤️

[lovelytsunoda]

last friday night // carlos sainz jr

summary: after her best friend's bachelorette party, she wakes up in bed with a stranger and no memory of what she did the night before. carlos can't remember either, but he knows he wants to spend as much time with y/n as he can, so he offers to help her figure out what happened.

pairing: carlos sainz jr. x female! reader

warnings: heavy drinking, one night stand, terrible drunken bad decisions, implied smut but it's not written out. sexual innuendos, memory loss due to said heavy drinking. skinny dipping, spanish pet names. some cheating bastard named jake and his cousin brad get their car egged. semi-drunk driving ( don't do that, guys. it's unsafe )

mallorca, spain.

saturday morning. 8:54 AM.

something felt wrong, and it wasn't the pounding behind her eyes or the expensive sheets on her sweat-soaked skin. it wasn't the spanish sun streaming in from the blinds.

no, what was wrong was the arm over her body. the muscled, strong, tanned- stop. backtrack. scream.

she sucked in a breath, slowly sitting up. her thighs ached, the familiar after sting of a night of relentless sex. and when she realized she wasn’t wearing any clothes, she couldn’t stop the scream that tore through her heart.

she leaped out of bed, stumbling across the marble floor as the scrambled to wrap the duvet around herself. her memory was a black hole, the previous night a blur.

the man in the bed groaned, his hand patting down the mattress as he looked for his companion. mortified, y/n paced the floor, searching for her clothes from the night before. her entire body recoiled at the idea of putting on the previous night's panties, but she wasn't exactly about to go without any whatsoever.

she moved quickly and quietly, searching for her romper, which she finally found thrown over the back of a fainting couch. she held it up with disgust, looking at the frayed threads where one strap was beginning to sperate from the rest, and at the wrinkles in the sunshine yellow fabric, the stains that she simply prayed were food-related and easy to clean.

she wished she could remember what had happened.

"corazon?"

she cursed herself for how far she jumped when he spoke, his spanish accent thick and seductive. and when he sat up in the queen sized bed, she couldn't help but think that, even as drunk as she was, she had picked well. his messy hair was voluminous and fluffy, borderline pornographic, and she had to hold back a moan as she took in the sight of his toned, muscled chest.

"i'm sorry, can you tell me what the hell we did last night?" her voice was shaky, and she wasn't sure if it was from anger, uncertainty, fear, or something else, something hornier, as she tried not to think about how that god of a man had touched her in so many intimate ways and she couldn't even remember his name.

"i'm assuming we had incredible sex, if the marks on your neck are any indication, but beyond that i can't remember a damn thing." he groaned, falling back against the pillows. "and what a damn shame that is, carino."

"fuck." she groaned, tilting her head back. "i'm y/n, in case you don't remember. and you are?"

"carlos." the spaniard cocked his head in the direction of the fainting couch. "if you could toss me those sweatpants, i'll run downstairs and get us both some advil. how does that sound?"

"like the best idea you've had all morning."

friday night, 7:55 PM.

the sun was sinking against the horizon line, palm trees silhouetted against a cotton candy sky as the orange sun reflected across the water.

y/n stood in front of the barbecue, stoking the fire and tending to the meal as she swayed her hips to the rhythm, joining her fellow bridesmaids in the chorusing of a throwback katy perry hit.

at the center of it all was holly, one of her long-time university friends. a bright pink silk sash across her body proclaimed her as the bride to be, and she wasn't letting anybody forget it, gleefully slipping a mention of her fiancee, carlos onoro, or 'caco', as he had first introduced himself to her.

"y/n, i'm sure the barbecue won't spontaneously combust if you take a quick break to take a picture with us." holly encouraged, hoping that the quieter girl would join her for the bridal party photo.

the hen week in mallorca had been jennifer, the maid of honor's idea.

rolling her eyes, y/n closed the lid on the barbecue and grabbed a can of white claw, joining her fellow bridesmaids behind the glass patio table for a picture.

the party that night was intended to end the trip, a friday party before they flew back home the following tuesday to return to their normal lives. little did they all know, jennifer had one more trick up her sleeve.

a trick that would turn the whole night on it's head.

"everybody shout 'same penis forever'!" jennifer cried, holding her phone out in front of them for a selfie.

the girls repeated the joke, their grins and giggles captured on the camera as they dissolved into drunken laughter.

"now, holly, i have one last surprise for you." jennifer said, pulling a chair out from the patio table for the bride-to-be to take a seat. "i know this week has very much been girl time, but i also know that you've been missing a certain special someone."

at this point, y/n had gone back to her beloved barbecue, tending to what was supposed to be their dinner. she knew what jennifer was planning, her little scheme being an open secret with the group of bridesmaids.

jennifer stood behind holly, gesturing to someone who was hiding in the background.

"carlos!" holly shouted in delight as carlos onoro made his presence known, appearing underneath the pergola where the ladies were gathered. "what are you doing here?"

"coincidentally, my own bachelor party was also in mallorca, because my dear cousin is so uncreative." caco rolled his eyes, looking at a man with olive complexion and a man of dark, fluffy hair.

"the cousin is quite the looker." sophia, another one of the bridesmaids, said lowly with a grin, nudging y/n in the side. "if i wasn't already spoken for, i'd be going after the cousin."

as holly and caco spoke in low tones with each other, laughing at their inside jokes and kissing each other gently, y/n found her eyes wandering to the cousin. she bit her lip to stop herself from running her tongue across her bottom lip in a suggestive manner.

"care to introduce the guest?" sophia said with a grin, nudging y/n, who she knew was too shy to ask by herself.

"this is my cousin, carlos sainz jr." caco said with a grin, clapping his cousin on the shoulder. "not only does he wear the carlos name better, he is also a bit of a big deal. he's a formula one driver for ferrari!"

carlos.

well, hello carlos.

saturday morning. 9:25 AM.

dressed and with food in their stomachs, y/n and carlos set out across the beach and back to the villa that had been rented for the bachelorette party.

the pergola was a mess of empty white claw cans and broken wine glasses, one of the chairs completely overturned. y/n's beloved barbecue hadn't been cleaned properly, and the burnt remains of what the group had tried to eat was seared onto the grill.

"what the fuck happened last night?" she said slowly, picking her way over the sand in her flip flops. she had been unable to find her shoes in carlos' villa, but he promised that he's have one of other carlos' groomsmen look for them.

when it looked like carlos might actually answer her rhetorical question, she glared at him with a look that shut the spaniard down instantly. she kept moving, bounding nervously up the stairs of the villa, somewhat scared about what she might find inside.

she eased the back door open, a part of her relieved to find each member of the bachelorette party passed out in the living room in varying hungover states, save for the bride and other carlos, who were nowhere to be found.

y/n sighed in relief before shaking the sleeping bodies of her mates, hitting their backs with pillows and trying to get them all to wake up while carlos stood in the doorway and laughed at the spectacle. he never asked where his cousin was, because he assumed he had a pretty good idea of where caco was, that being in bed with his bride to be.

"ladies, up and at 'em, lets go!" clapping her hands together as the bridesmaids groggily wake up

"can someone close the blinds?" jennifer whines, pulling a throw pillow off the couch and pressing it over her face. "its too fucking bright."

"we're in mallorca, jennifer. get used to it. come on, we have cleaning to do and hangovers to beat."

sophia sat up groggily, her blonde hair a rats nest on top of her head. she yawns, patting down the blaket hasitly thrown over her body to try and find her phone. and once she does, the sound of pure disgust is enough to get the rest of the bridesmaids to flock to her side.

"what happened, soph?" jennifer was suddenly wide awake, and even carlos could be enticed away from the doorframe

"we did something really fucking stupid last night." the blonde groaned, pulling up her instagram story. "so do you remember jennifer's ex-boyfriend?"

"what, jake the cheating asshole?" jennifer yawned. "what does he have to do with anything?"

"just watch the damn video, jen."

the video played for less than thirty seconds, and with each second, the regret and guilt began to seep in, coupled with the complete shock at the fact that they even did what was caught on film in the first place.

"holy shitballs."

"very eloquent, thank you jennifer." y/n huffs sarcastically. "if anybody needs me, bother carlos. i'm going to get dressed. and then we're going to sort out exactly what we did last night."

friday night. 8:35 PM.

"that cheating bastard!"

jennifer's shout is enough to get the bridal party's attention over the drinks being poured, and the songs blaring from the wireless speaker. y/n and sophia had never left the barbecue, with the blonde attempting to encourage her shyer friend to talk to the spaniard who was sharing a beer with his cousin.

"fucking jake is in mallorca!" the maid of honor groaned, turning her phone to face the group.

"i thought you blocked his sorry ass three months ago. we talked about this, jen. you need to release the toxicity from your life." agatha, another bridesmaid sighed.

"its not jake's instagram, its his hot cousin, brad. he's here in mallorca with that fucking ginger spice wannabe."

sophia glanced at the screen, biting the end off a twizzler. "in all fairness, the name of his hotel is geotagged."

"and what's that supposed to mean? we get it, bitchy spice's parents are rich and probably paid for the entire thing. brad isn't smart, he probably wanted to boast about the luxury that his cousin's girlfriend was paying for."

"flick one slide over, i think that's his license plate number." sophia grinned. "anybody got a palette of eggs and some bog roll?"

"oh, you're evil." holly throws her head back with a laugh. "right, caco, since you haven't had anything to drink, would you love to be a darling and drive us uptown so we can egg jake and brad's car?"

caco sighed. "i'm going to regret this, aren't i?"

"totally." sophia agreed with a smile. "but we'll all wake up tomorrow with hangovers and plausible deniability."

half an hour later, armed with cartons of egg and rolls of toilet paper, the drinks and barbecue long forgotten and fall out boy on the radio, the group were pulling up outside the hilton.

"fuck you, you cheating bastard!" jennifer shouts with her head out the window as she lobs an egg at the rental car that was badly parked outside the front lot. "you gave shitty head anyways!"

they all climbed out of the car, not even waiting for caco to park.

"i had to put up with her drunk sobbing ass at three in the morning, dickbag!" holly shouted, throwing another egg, the yolk splashing all over the back windscreen.

sophia stands off to the side, laughing as she films the carnage.

"can i throw one?" carlos asks quietly, reaching for the box of eggs that y/n was holding.

"knock yourself out. i don't even know jennifer, i'm just here to watch them make fools of themselves."

"fair enough, carino." carlos laughs, the entire sentence turning her insides to mush. "want to throw one with me? whatever jake did, he probably deserves it."

she knew it was a shitty idea, especially since sophia was filming it. if word ever got back not only to her family, but to her employer, she was done for.

but there was something about carlos sainz jr that made her want to make terrible choices.

"okay. yeah, let's egg this sucker."

saturday morning. 9:35 AM

"so did you fuck mr. ferrari?"

"sophia, get out!"

the blonde laughed. after revealing the activities of the night before, sophia had enough of watching the other bridesmaids going through the stages of denial and decided to busy herself with something better: grilling y/n about what she had gotten up to the night before, since she was the one person who hadn't ended up taking extra tequila shots to cobra starship and passing out on the villa floor.

"i'm just asking. come on, he looks like a spanish porn star. you can't tell me that you went home with that and didn't smash."

y/n shook her head, pulling on a fresh t-shirt that didn't smell like barbecue smoke and alcohol. "yeah, i fucked him. and it's a damn shame i only remember bits and pieces."

"do you remember how many orgasms he gave you?" sophia pressed, hoping for more information. "or what he sounds like when he comes? i bet he speaks spanish in between your legs."

"sophia!" y/n was blushing bright red now. "you know as well as i do that i have no memory of last night. we were hammered!"

"do you remember anything?" the willowy blonde asked, sitting at the foot of y/n's bed. "now that i've seen the egging video, i remember going to the bar afterwards. i think mr. ferrari picked up the tab. yeah, they were playing some latin club music thing on the speakers and you and carlos were snogging in the corner."

and suddenly it was like lightbulbs went off in y/n's head. "that's right, i think i remember it now."

actually, what she remembered was dancing with carlos, his hands toying with the hem of her romper, his crotch against her ass. his breath hot against her neck as she whispered dirty things to her in spanish. the soft moan she let out as he gripped her thighs.

"do you remember what happened after the drinks?" as much as y/n wanted to know what they got up to the night before, desperate to fill the gaps in her memory, a selfish and decently horny part of her psyche wanted to know what she had done with carlos.

it seemed like such a waste to have a one night stand with a man like him and not remember any of it.

"no idea. i found a crumpled receipt for the rounds of tequila and the parking pass for the hilton in my pocket." sophia stood up, patting down her white dress pants again. "maybe there's something else? ooh, what's this?" the bridesmaid extracted a crumpled sheet of paper from her pocket.

"a parking ticket? for a public park? what the fuck?"

friday night. 10:01 PM.

"okay, that's last call!" the bartender shouted in spanish, the music overhead going quiet. "we're a respectable establishment, not a night club."

"boo!" jennifer shouts, pulling away from the random stranger she had decided to dance with. "you're such a buzzkill!"

"and you're drunk, jennifer." caco rolled his eyes. even the groom to be was drunker than he had been when the party left the villa. "i think you're all drunk, actually."

"but this is the bachelorette party!" holly whines. "at least there weren't any strippers, but we can't let the night end this early!"

at the back of the horde, carlos still had his arms around y/n's waist, his body pressed up against hers in a way that was anything but innocent as he whispered in her ear, sending shivers down her spine.

"we could get out of here now, corazon, and head back to my villa. let the night end with me inside of you?"

she hums in content, turning to face carlos, her face heating up at the memory of his tongue in her mouth, his lips against hers, his hands leaving a bruising grip on her waist "very tempting, but in case you haven't realized, i'm the sane one. they're definitely going to get themselves in trouble if i don't go with them."

"i'll go wherever you go, corazon. and once you're certain they aren't going to get into trouble, the two of us can go back to my villa and get up to our own, good kind of trouble."

his lips were so close to her neck, and she had to bite her bottom lip to stop from moaning.

"carlos." she whined lowly, thankful that they were at the back of the crowd and everybody else was too drunk to notice.

"i know, carino, i know."

they were back in the car, with holly and y/n sitting on their lovers's laps due to the total lack of space within the car. they were violating so many traffic laws, and there was no way that sophia was sober enough to be driving.

holly and caco were making out in the backseat, and agatha was complaining about god knows what while y/n fought to restrain herself from guiding carlos' hands between her legs.

"ew, ew ew, im covered in egg yolk and it's drying on my skin!" agatha whined, shaking her hands in the air. "it's bloody disgusting!"

"what do you want us to do, agatha?" jennifer whined. "you were fine in the bar."

"yeah, until your drunk ass spilt a pint on my dress!"

"ladies, ladies, let's mediate this, let's sort it out." sophia urged, taking a corner far too quickly. y/n was grateful that the spanish roads were empty, and that there were no cars around for sophia to crash into. "look, there's a pond over there."

holly stopped kissing caco for a fraction of a second, her head flying up, the top of her ponytail grazing the ceiling of the rental car. "you can't seriously be suggesting what i think you're suggesting."

agatha laughed, throwing her hands in the air and hitting both caco and carlos in the faces. "let's go skinny dipping!"

with a cheer and a few decidedly unsafe driving techniques, sophia navigated the car into the park, almost hitting a flock of seagulls in the process as she drove right up to the pond's edge.

the girls flocked out of the suv, immediately stripping down to lingerie and getting in the pond. caco took his dress shirt off, hoisting holly over his shoulder before wading in up to the knees on his slacks.

y/n spun around with a mischievous look in her eyes, making eye contact with carlos as she began to slide the straps of her romper down her shoulders. the ferrari driver's hungry eyes followed her movements as she began to show more and more skin, a prominent bulge appearing in his jeans as he swallowed hard.

"what do you say, mr. ferrari?" she was now down to her pale yellow matching set, a color complementary to the floral pattern she had been wearing previously. "care to join me for a swim?"

saturday morning. 10:00 AM.

now that the bridal party was mostly awake and coherent, they were dressed in sweats and gathered in the villa kitchen, hounding carlos for breakfast and spanish hangover remedies.

"excuse me, mr hot bartender, why is my drink this green?" jennifer whined, scrunching up her nose as she sniffed at carlos' hangover remedy

"because there's kale in in, dumbass." agatha rolled her eyes.

carlos turned to y/n, who was messily picking her way through a breakfast frittata. he looked her in the eyes, mouthing 'help me', to which the bridesmaid simply laughed.

around 10:10, holly and caco stumbled out of the bedroom in varying states of disarray, their hair a mess and hickeys all over both their necks. holly barely even glanced at her bridesmaids, instead grabbing jennifers untouched glass of kale and egg yolk and chugging it down in one go.

"so we know about the egging, and we have the receipts that prove we were at the bar," agatha began. "but why do i smell like a pond?"

"maybe it has something to do with this parking ticket." sophia asked thoughtfully, placing the paper, written fully in spanish, in the middle of the table.

holly snapped to attention "oh my god, the car. that's on my dad's credit card. i swear to god, if anything happened to it last night-"

caco placed a hand on her arm. "hermosa, im sure it's fine. i'm sure nothing that bad happened to it."

"we used it in the comission of a crime."

jennifer choked on her omlette. "yeah, and it was fucking fun. you should see how salty brad and jake are. they posted a whole ass rant on facebook. god, i hate them both."

y/n rolled her eyes. "let me take one for the team and go see if the car is out front, how about that?"

she got up from the island and walked around to the front of the villa, tile cool against her bare feet. she never had found her heels. when she opened the front door and stepped out onto the porch, her heart stopped.

the car was missing.

friday night. 10:37 PM.

y/n wasn't sure how the night had gotten this insane.

the bridal party were drunk off their asses, floundering around in a public pond in mallorca with the groom and the best man. agatha was making out with sophia, a fine line the duo had been dancing around since the group all met in college and y/n was seriously considering jumping carlos sainz jr's bones.

somewhere along the line, a very out of key carrie underwood karaoke session had begun, with the drunken bridesmaids singing 'before he cheats' as they splashed each other with the mucky pond water.

agatha had stopped complaining about the egg yolk on her arms, but it wouldn't be long before she started complaining about pond dwelling fish, or algae, or fucking frogs.

somewhere on the shore, a phone began to ring, the generic apple ringtone breaking through the tone deaf song.

"i'll get it!" jennifer shouted- well, more like slurred, before she began to swim to shore, her head barely hovering above the dark water as she made a grab for her phone and her dress.

y/n and carlos hadn't ventured in very far, the pond not being that deep anyways. there was no space in between their bodies, her hands on his shoulders and her legs around his waist as he supported her body.

"hi." she said quietly, like time had slowed and this was a moment just for the two of them.

it was the clearest her mind had been all night.

"hi." carlos said back, matching her tone. "you look beautiful, carino."

"kiss me, carlos."

and so he did, his soft, plump lips cushioning hers as he cradled her body against the pond's edge.

"holy fuck, guys the cops are here!"

the group may have been drunk, but they were sober enough to know that none of them wanted to end up in a spanish jail under a drunk and disorderly when they all had jobs they needed to get back to on tuesday.

"motherfucker!" holly shouted. "what do we do?"

"for one thing, we put our clothes back on!" agatha shouted back, splashing through the water with sophia right behind her. "and then we get in the car and hope thye don't fucking see us!"

the bridal party scrambled out of the water, hastily pulling their clothes back on before sophia started patting down her pockets. "guys, i can't find the keys!"

jennifer's eyes bulged. "what the fuck do you mean you can't find the keys?"

"i mean they're not here!"

"everybody calm down!" y/n encouraged. "i'm sure they're just, in the grass somewhere."

"is that a parking ticket?" holly screamed, pointing at a mint green slip of paper under the windshield. "oh, my parents are going to hate this."

"that's the least of our worries right now, holly." carlos rolled his eyes before sinking to his knees and patting down the grassy area where the clothes had been scattered.

"is anybody at all going to help us look?" sophia shouted, the rest of the group snapping to attention and beginning the hunt for the subaru keys.

minutes flew by, and drinks were wearing off. agatha had already been sick in the pond, scaring away three swans.

"guys," y/n panted, ready to throw in the towel. "we're never going to find the keys in the dark, let's just leave the car here and fucking come back for it."

"it's going to get towed if we leave it in the open. we need to hide it somehow." caco pointed out

jennifer scoffed. "we can't just push the damn thing into the pond."

"no, but we can hide it in the bushes." agatha suggested. "if we cover it with enough branches, nobody will be able to see it. we just have to hope we can find the keys in the morning."

and so it was decided. with help from caco and carlos, the group managed to push the rental car into the bushes, pulling branches over the rear window as sophia called for two ubers back to the villa.

friday morning. 10:45 AM

"are you sure this is the right park."

"it's what the parking ticket said, jennifer! you'd know that if you could read something other than cosmopolitan and vogue!" agatha shouted, waving the ticket in the air as a flock of morning doves startled and flew off.

sophia raised her hand, waiting for the already agitated agatha to call on her, giving her permission to speak. "this is all pointless if we can't find the keys."

"right, let's split up then." agatha rubbed at the skin on her forehead. "half of us will look for the car keys in the grass, the rest of you search the shrubs and shit. maybe the pond, too."

"i'm not getting back in there." holly pouted "there's no way we parked the car underwater."

"fine. don't look there, then."

they broke off into groups, desperate to find not only the hidden suv, but the keys that would allow them to drive it home and pretend like friday night had never happened.

but there was still a major part of friday night that y/n was trying to get back, and it pained her that she never would.

"hey, carlos." she said softly as she and the spaniard began sifting through the large mounds of shrubbery around the pond. "im sorry that i don't remember anything from last night."

"it's okay, y/n. i don't remember too much of it either, if that's any consolation."

"but it's not." she shook her head. "from what i can remember, and what i saw this morning, you seem like a really sweet guy and its a shame that we're going to throw the whole damn thing away."

carlos stopped moving branches, resting his hand on hers. "how can i make it up to you?"

"maybe you can refresh my memory?" she suggested in a tone that she hoped was even the slightest bit suggestive, indicative of where she hoped this new love might lead her. "after a nice dinner, and maybe a walk along the beach?"

carlos laughed, turning to face her. "i would like nothing more."

"good." she said with a smile before cupping his cheeks with her hands, and pressing up on her tiptoes to kiss him, his hands flying to her waist as the bridal party caught sight of the two and began to cheer.

the couple continued to kiss sweetly in front of the shrub when a large beeping noise startled them, red lights illuminating the inside of the shrubbery as the couple jumped, y/n still held safe in carlos' arms.

"i found the car keys!"

"shut up, agatha!"

[paintyoureyeswithavividmind]

close to home | chapter fifty two

close to home | chapter fifty two

plot: no real plot, just nsfw content 😏

series masterlist

Pairing: Eventual Daryl Dixon x f!reader Word Count: 4,528 Warnings: violence, blood, typical twd, explicit sexual content (you're welcome) A/N: thank you for reading!!!

The Hilltop became your home for the time being. With all the moving parts and Alexandria being overridden, most Alexandrians ended up at Hilltop. You didn’t mind, except there were so many people it was impossible to be alone for more than five minutes. 

You received a letter from Carl, and Michinne urged you to read it, but you couldn’t bring yourself to open it. 

Things moved slowly in the following days and a few weeks after defeating the Negan. You told Rick you couldn’t be apart of any decisions, that you didn’t have the mindset to even think about helping the saviors. And he respected your decision and let you be. 

You mostly busied yourself with helping Maggie with whatever she needed. She started showing a few weeks after the end of the war, and it seemed to liven up the place. She was their leader, and the people loved her. 

It was nightfall when you returned to the tent you and Daryl shared. It was much bigger than the old one since supplies had been divided up from the Sanctuary. It had enough space for a mattress, a small table that served as a nightstand, and then an old trunk that housed all the belongings that weren’t at Alexandria. 

Tora was waiting for you, who had waited out the war at Hilltop. You sobbed when you finally saw her again, and she didn’t leave your side for a few days. She seemed to be mourning Carl as well and had taken up following Judith around on her walks with Michonne and Rick. 

You collapsed onto the bed and looked at Tora, who was comfortable on the trunk. You stared up at the tent’s ceiling and took a deep breath. When you heard the tent unzipper, you sat up and watched Daryl walk in. You hadn’t seen him since this morning; he went out with Jesus on a run. 

“I missed you,” You said to him as you leaned back, watching as he started to get ready for bed. He kicked off his shoes and then took off his shirt. His back was to you, and you stared at the angry scars on his back. Then he took off his pants, and you admired his figure before he came over to you. You sat up again and tilted your head to look up at him. 

“I missed ya, too,” Daryl whispered, setting his hands on either side of your jaw and leaning down to kiss you. 

You wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him down to you. One of his hands left, and you heard the click of the lantern before he sank down next to you.

You hummed against his lips as he threaded his fingers through your hair before pushing you against the mattress. His hand moved to your waist and squeezed before his lips finally left yours. 

“You drive me crazy, Daryl Dixon,” You told him, running your fingers through his hair.

“Can say the same thing ‘bout yaself,” Daryl told you and kissed you softly. 

“You used to be so shy kissing me,” You chuckled. “It was the most frustrating and adorable thing all at once.” 

You felt his lips smile against yours before they finally pulled away. “Yeah, well, after everythin’ and almost losin’ ya, don’t wanna regret anythin’. Besides, I love ya. Got nothing to be shy about anymore,”

You smiled and cupped his cheeks briefly before he swatted them away. “Good, because we haven’t had sex in days cause of everything, and I need you more than life itself,”

“Oh, do ya?” Daryl whispered, and you felt his facial hair tickle your neck. Your eyes fluttered shut when his lips touched your skin, and you titled your head the other way, giving him more access. 

“Daryl,” You breathed out, feeling his hands move from your waist to your inner thigh. 

“Mhm, I know,”

He was gone in a flash, and you heard him unzip the tent, and Tora meowing in displeasure. Then he zipped it back up and came back over to you. 

You spread your legs so he could hover above you, and he didn’t waste a second before kissing you again. You ran your hands down his broad chest. No signs of bruises or cuts just hardened muscle under soft skin. You trailed your fingers down his abdomen to his briefs and snapped the band against his skin. 

“Ya a real tease,” He mumbled against your lips. 

You pushed him backward, flipping the two of you around, and grinded against him. “Don’t act like you don’t like it, old man,” 

Daryl grabbed you by the shirt and pulled you down, taking it off before you even realized what happened. “Not an ol’ man,”

“True,” You said, circling your hips as you felt him grow harder. “An old man probably couldn’t keep up with me.”

Daryl groaned and grabbed your waist, using his hands to make you move faster. “Do ya ever just shut the hell up?”

You bit your lip to suppress the moan that bubbled in your throat when you felt his tip rub against your clit through your clothes. “I thought you liked it when I’m loud?”

***

The following day, after multiple orgasms that left you shaking on the bed the night before, and another round when Daryl woke up to your sleeping body and couldn’t stop himself from waking you up by sucking on your neck, you walked out into the brisk fall air with sore legs and a grumbling stomach. 

“Give me that back,” Daryl said behind you. 

“No way,” You said, stepping away from his hands when he tried to grab his vest. “I think it looks nice on me.”

“(Y/N),”

You grabbed his hands and moved closer to him, leaning up so you were closer to his face. “I tell you what, Daryl Dixon, I’m going to be walking around sore all day because you couldn’t keep your grubby hands off me, so if I wanna steal your damn vest, then I’m going to, and there’s nothing you could do about it.” You said before walking away. 

But then you paused and turned around, meeting his eyes. “Besides, if you let me wear this today, maybe it’ll be the only thing I wear tonight.” When you saw his eyes widen, you smiled, “What? Don’t you like the idea of me riding you with just this on?”

With him blushing and shell-shocked, you smiled to yourself and walked away. 

***

Later that day, you were sitting with Michonne while eating lunch. It was quiet while the two of you sat together and ate, and it was something you never thought you’d have again. Aside from Daryl, Michonne was your best friend and had been for a long while. Even though you disagreed with her supporting Rick’s decision, you knew why she did it. The exact reasons why you support Daryl. Because you both loved the men you were with.

“How’s Rick doing?” You asked. 

“He’s okay, I think. He’s throwing himself into work. Which is better than sitting around. He wants to start clearing Alexandria soon and fixing the walls and everything else.”

“And you?”

She shrugged, “I’m okay, I guess too.” Then she looked at you, “Are you and Daryl going to come home once Alexandria is good?”

You nodded slowly. “Probably. I might bounce back and forth ‘cause of Maggie. We haven’t talked about it, but… it is home.”

***

Later that night, Daryl was anxious when he went to the tent you two shared. All day he had thought about your words, and it made fixing the walls that the firebombs from Oceanside burned hard. His hands would tremble when he thought about it too much, and Rick would ask him every so often if he was okay. 

So when he approached the tent and quietly entered, his mouth parted when he saw you waiting for him exactly like you said you would. 

“Sorry in advance,” Daryl said to you as he took off his shirt, eyes never leaving your body. You were sitting on your knees, completely naked, aside from the vest that teasingly covered your breasts and nothing else. You sat with your legs spread out so he could see every inch of you. 

“Why’s that?”

“‘Cause ya gonna be sore again tomorro’,”

Daryl swallowed as he knelt down on the mattress in front of you as moved so you were on your knees, and he brushed your hair back, which was, for once, not in a braid. His calloused hands caressed your cheek, down your neck, and through the center of your chest before they gripped your waist and pulled you so you were chest to chest. 

His gaze went back to your face, searching your eyes for that look you consistently gave him since before he even recognized what it was. If there was one thing the savior war did, it was prove to him how much you loved him. It was what he reminded himself of when he doubted you loved him. But he saw it in the way you looked at him, the way you teased him with little jokes or sarcastic comments. But more importantly, it was the way you gave him your life for him so many times. And he loved you every bit as you loved him. 

His eyes closed when he felt your hands on his bare chest. Your cold fingers from the chilly fall air left goosebumps on his skin. His heart beat erratically when he opened his eyes again and looked down at you. 

“I would do anythin’ for ya,” His voice was deep and gruff, a contrast to the meaning words he spoke. Words that he held in reserve for you and only you. 

You smiled and leaned up, rubbing your nose against his for a second. “I know,” You whispered. 

Finally, he couldn’t resist it anymore and leaned down to kiss you deeply. His tongue ran against your bottom lip, and he pulled you even closer to him. As he kissed you, he pushed you backward.

When he carefully had you on the mattress, he grabbed your thigh and opened your legs before he hovered between them. 

“Tell me again,” Daryl mumbled against your neck as he pressed kisses down to your collarbone. 

“I love you,” You breathed out. 

His lips continued its trail until they got to your breasts, and he pushed the sides of the vest away to kiss the soft skin before darting out his tongue over your nipple. Hearing your moan, he moved to the other one and repeated his actions. When your back arched and your fingers threaded through his hair, he felt himself grow harder. 

Then he continued down, leaving kisses and licks down your abdomen, feeling the weight you’d put back on the past few weeks with his hands. He squeezed the soft skin and left kisses around your belly button before adjusting himself and lying flat across the mattress with his head between your legs. 

“Daryl,” You moaned. 

He pulled your legs further apart with his hands and held them down. His lips further nipped, kissed, and licked at your inner thighs. The moonlight shining through the tent’s roof allowed him to see each dip and curve of your skin and the freckles that dotted your thigh. 

He listened to you moan his name again, back arching off the bed already and hands gripping the blanket. He smiled to himself as you withered underneath him. Daryl hadn’t done this to you, nor any woman, for a very long time. 

But hearing you moan his name and seeing the way your body reacted to his touch before he even got started was enough of an invitation. So he dipped his head down, and with one struck up your center, you had to cover your mouth. 

He gripped your thighs tighter as you tried to clench around him, your body shaking. He repeated his actions slowly, each time getting the same reaction. His tongue dipped into the curves, and his cock twitched at how wet you were. It pooled on his tongue with each lick. 

And when he finally circled your clit with his tongue, your hands fisted in his hair, and he moaned into you. Slowly, he let one of your thighs go and brought his finger to you, playing with your entrance before sliding it in. 

“Daryl…” You moaned loudly. He knew it was too loud, but he continued his movements and wrapped his lips around your clit, sucking lightly and using his tongue to swipe back and forth. As he heard his name again from your lips, he added a second finger and pumped harder. Anything to listen to his name again or make you feel this way. 

His fingers rubbed the soft ribbed spot a few inches deep that he knew had you breathless. When your hands pulled at his hair and your body started shaking, he knew you were close. He also knew he would finish if he kept this up anymore. 

So he moved his fingers faster, rubbing that spot and licking your clit repeatedly in a circle, making you breathe faster and faster. And he knew exactly when you were going to climax because you clenched around his fingers, and he had to reach up to cover your mouth with his hand. 

Your body shook as you came down from your high, and he felt your hands reaching for him. 

“Come here,” You whined, and he immediately moved to you. Your hands grabbed his face, and your lips met his feverishly, moaning as they did. Daryl lost his balance at your desperation, and his body rested against yours as you parted his lips with your tongue and sucked on his. 

He grinded his hips against yours, rubbing himself against you and feeling your cum and wetness soak into his briefs. 

Your moan broke apart the kiss, and he let out a deep breath of air. “Ya like that, don’t ya? Tasting ya self like that.” He mumbled against your lips as he grinded against you again. 

You nodded, mumbling just how much you liked it, and he felt your hands pushing down his briefs. He had no clue how you got them off so fast, but your desperation for him had his heart beating in his throat, and the only thing he could feel from you was how much you loved him, how much you wanted him. 

That feeling drove him mad; the feeling of being wanted. It was like a drug to him. It was better than anything he’d ever had, and he wanted to bask in it. He wanted to wrap himself up in it and never let it go. The way you wanted in him in every way had him ready to risk anything, do anything just to keep it. 

“Now, Daryl,” You said, breaking apart his thoughts. He felt your cold fingers wrap around him as you lined him up. “Oh my God, now,”

The both of you moaned when he pushed himself in, and he couldn’t stop himself after that. He thrusted faster and harder, leaving you breathless, and needy for more. He felt your legs around his waist, which let him go deeper than before. 

Daryl would’ve loved to put you on your knees and bend you over, which he hadn’t had the opportunity to do to you yet, so he could go even faster and harder. But then he couldn’t look down at your face; your eyes either glazed over with tears from the pleasure or closed tight while biting your lip. He couldn’t watch the way your breasts bounced with each thrust, but mostly because he couldn’t look you in the eyes while you came, which was a level of intimacy he’d never had with anyone but craved with you. 

“Daryl, I’m gonna…” You trailed off, fingernails biting at his skin and edging him further. 

“Don’ gotta hold it back,” He said, holding his thrusts for an extra second before he pulled out. 

Daryl’s gaze met yours and he leaned down, kissing your forehead. He felt that same feeling around his cock and knew you were about to lose it. So he bent down and kissed you through your moans, which effectively silenced you. 

After you finished, your bodies still moving together, you cupped his cheeks and he stared down at you, watching a teardrop fall. “I love you, Daryl Dixon,” 

He nodded and leaned down as he thrust hard, “Love ya, (Y/N),”

The feeling of being inside you was everything to him at that moment. It told him that everything was over, that you were finally, truly his. He could sink into you night after night, morning after morning, and he didn’t have to worry about you being taken. He was free to love you with every part of himself. 

“You’re…gonna…make me so sore,” You breathed out in a soft moan. 

“That’s the plan,” Daryl said, his arms twitching from supporting his weight for so long. But he ignored the burning in his forearms. “Want you to remember with every fuckin’ step ya take,”

You moaned at his words and gripped his shoulders. “That was the hottest thing you’ve ever said to me,” You said. 

He felt his cheeks heat up a bit, and then he felt how you’d clenched yourself around him at those words. He thought about everything he wanted to say to you in bed, when he was so deep in you that he couldn’t tell where he started and you ended. He wanted to say a million dirty things to you but didn’t know how. 

Daryl knew you were getting close again; how your body responded to each thrust was a dead giveaway. And he knew he wasn’t going to last much longer either. Not with the multiple rounds last night and this morning. But God did he went to keep himself in you as long as possible. 

“I love you,” Daryl heard you say, repeatedly moaning it over and over again. 

He felt your walls clench tighter and tighter around him, and he knew you only had a few seconds. He tried to suppress his own orgasm the best he could as he sent you over the edge. But when you loudly moaned his name, and he felt you cum around his choke, he couldn’t pull out fast enough. 

“Don’t stop,” You moaned, grabbing his shoulders through your high. “I don’t care, just keep going,” 

Perhaps it was the ecstasy, or how connected the two of you felt like this, but neither of you could stop yourselves from this. So Daryl kept thrusting as he came, pushing in as deep as possible. His eyes shut tight as he filled you up, so much so he could feel it coming out with each slowing thrust. He pumped himself into you, wanting to get every last drop deep inside of you. 

Your high was ending, and the warmth between your legs made you want more and more. You couldn’t help yourself. 

Finally, his movements stopped, and he collapsed on top of you, breathing heavily. He felt your fingers gently thread through his hair, and then your lips kiss the top of his head. Then he slowly pulled out of you and rolled over so he was lying next to you. 

You couldn’t stop yourself from climbing over his lap so you were sitting on his groin. “You made a mess,” You whispered, leaning down so you could kiss him. 

“Ya begged for it,” Daryl gruffed in that voice that only came from after sex. His hazy eyes glanced at you, still wearing his damn vest. 

You grinded your clit against his cock as you felt his cum leak out of you. “That was the hottest sex I think we’ve ever had, old man, but I don’t think I’m going to be as sore as you think I will be,”

His hands gripped your waist, “That ya comin’ on to me or what?”

You repeated your actions again slowly, giving him time to recover. “Oh, I'm coming on to you. Figured I could do all the work this time,”

Daryl tried not to smile as he looked up at your finger, illuminated by the soft light coming through the tent. His eyes were heavy, and he was exhausted, but the feeling of your dripping pussy over his cock had him wanting more, and he knew he wouldn’t stop fucking you until he passed out from it. 

“You know,” You said quietly, circling your hips. “I never expected this from you. You’re more sexual than I thought,”

“Me too."

He heard your giggle and lifted his hips a bit to make you feel better. Which it did, from the look on your face. 

“I can stop if you want,” You whispered as you leaned down. “Just say the word, okay?”

“If I ever tell ya to stop, shoot me with my bow."

You laughed loudly and straightened up. “You’re too cute."

He grunted and reached between your legs, rubbing your clit to shut you up. He watched your mouth part in pleasure, and he felt a jolt run through his body. It had only been a few minutes, but he knew it wouldn’t be long until he was ready. 

“Daryl…” You breathed out, “I said I was going to do the work,”

His finger slipped between your bodies, and he slowly pumped it in. You were so wet still, and warm, and dripping with him. It was addicting. He ignored your comment and brought his other hand to your clit, which had you groan. 

“Jesus Christ,” You said. 

He bit down on his cheek as he looked up at you. You’d leaned back, resting your hands on the mattress behind you. Your body was stretched out, showing off each curve, your breasts, and the pussy he now had two fingers in. Your fourth orgasm hit you, and he continued his slow pump, which drove you crazy. 

Daryl’s movements were slow, teasing, as he felt himself start to get hard. He knew you felt it immediately because you sat straight up and moved his hand away and started grinding against him, hard. He couldn’t understand how much energy you had after everything you’d done today, but he loved it. 

As soon as you could, you sank down on his cock and moved. You didn’t give him a chance to catch his breath before you were circling your hips and slowly moving up and down.

Daryl’s mind felt like it was on fire as he watched you, his hands touching anywhere they could. He couldn’t look away from your face, breasts, or where his cock disappeared into you. With each bounce, he met you with a thrust, and only after a couple did you press your hands flat against his chest. 

“I said I’m doing the work, Dixon, so slow your roll.”

He nodded and just grabbed your waist, watching as you fucked him. But he couldn’t stop himself, and he sat up, wrapping his arms around your waist. Your breasts rubbed against his chest, and he reached down to grab your ass. 

You moaned, moving your body fast. He knew you were getting close, and with how fast you were moving and how incredible you looked, he would follow you right along. You ran your fingers through his hair at the base of his neck.

He squeezed your ass as he pressed his lips against your collarbone. “Oh, darlin'..." He groaned.

You kissed his neck before leaning back, “I want you to cum inside of me again."

Daryl looked at you as you moved up and down, using his shoulders to balance you. He wanted the same thing more than anything. But his mind took him back to earlier, how you were so desperate for it. Then he leaned his mouth toward your ear, “Beg me for it,”

“Fuck,” You mumbled. “Daryl…” 

You pushed him backward, hard, and Daryl’s back hit the mattress with a thud. Then you moved your hips even faster, grinding them up and down. He thrusted upwards and you whimpered, his name coming out as a moan. 

“I want you to, Daryl,” You said, moving as fast as your straining legs allowed. You begged him desperately for what you wanted.

His hands gripped your waist as you continued to beg him. The words struck him deep as you moaned and whimpered. When his hand went to your clit, you nearly shouted out your begs, a string of obscenities and desires; all the words you whimpered out in that begging tone of yours had him shaking. 

And when he felt you start to orgasm, he followed you. He painted your insides, and he watched you sink down onto his cock again and again as he did. He kept thrusting as long as he could, wanting to fill you again and again, and watch it drip out of your pussy and down onto his cock. 

He only realized how loud you were when he stopped focusing on how your pussy looked with his cum leaking from it, and he grabbed your arm and pulled you down. You continued to moan your pleasure into his neck before you finally rolled off of him, breathing heavily. 

His tired eyes closed momentarily as he took a deep breath to calm himself down. His heart was beating fast, and he couldn’t keep his eyes closed when he heard you move. 

“I love you,” Your voice was quiet, and he felt you kiss his shoulder. 

“I lova ya, too,” Daryl said. 

He took a deep breath and moved, reaching for the shirt he had discarded on the floor. Then he wiped your thighs to clean you up, and then himself.

“I’m thirsty,” You yawned.

Daryl sighed softly and looked at you for a moment before he pulled on pants and a shirt and grabbed an empty container. “I’ll get ya some water.” He kissed your forehead and then was gone. 

The community was quiet, and only one of the lights from the trailers was still on. He prayed that whoever was in there didn’t hear you. After getting water from the pump and returning to the tent, his facial features softened when he saw you passed out on the mattress. He could see your naked body and quickly zipped the tent behind him. 

The water canteen was discarded, and he climbed into the bed and pulled up the covers. Then he wrapped his arm around your stomach and pulled your sleeping body so your back was against his chest. 

He pressed a kiss behind your ear before shutting his eyes and falling asleep.

[clockwork-ashes]

Day 7 - Free Day

Note: thank you to the lovely mods of @erisweekofficial for such an amazing event!!! i had so much fun, and i can’t wait to catch up on all the wonderful creations <3

Summary: Eris no longer wants to ignore the connection he feels with Cora (one-shot). All 7 (!!!) of my eris week one-shots can be read on Ao3 <3

Another Note: cora is an OC who heavily features in my elucien multichapter fic! she acts as elain’s lady’s maid while she’s stuck in the autumn court, but her and eris became very close ;) this can be read as a standalone, it’s just a spicy little one-shot <3

All You Have Is Your Fire taglist: @sad-scarred-sassy / @teddyhoneybear / @anishake / @nocasdatsgay / @mybestfriendmademe / @talibunny30 / @halfbutneverwhole / @wishfulimaginings / @goldenmagnolias / @emmers-bens123 / @cauldronblssd / @xirose / @rarephloxes / @thehighlordishere / @the-darkestminds /

Join me tonight.

Eris had whispered the words against the smooth arch of Cora’s pointed ear. His lips had brushed the skin lightly, a promise of what could be if only she agreed. His head had been bowed, shoulders curled towards her as if he had been pulled closer by an invisible thread. She had slipped from his grasp, water through his fingers, her dark skirts trailing in a river of fabric as she walked away. 

Impress me, and perhaps I will. 

Her rich voice had echoed in the empty corridor as she had chased the sound of the orchestra’s music. Cora had moved like a predator, silent and precise, each of her steps graceful. She was a queen, royalty in hiding. 

Eris had been given no choice but to follow her, an amused tilt to his mouth. She had smelled of spruce trees and mountain air, her scent lingering on the velvet of his jacket the entire evening. It had been a welcome distraction. He had, for the first time in weeks, forgotten about the mess his younger brother had gotten himself into. 

Lucien had danced with his mate, Elain having managed to impress the vicious courtiers of Autumn with little more than a practised spin. Cora had spent most of the night at Eris’s side, drinking wine in small sips and glancing at him over the rim of her glass. The tension between them could have been cut with an ash-tipped knife, a near irresistible desire had made it difficult for him to focus, but he had tried his best.

Time had moved slow as honey, and when Elain and Lucien left the ballroom holding arms as though they were in love, Eris decided he would not be staying either. He offered Cora his hand, not really expecting her to reach out. She linked their smallest fingers together in a gesture Eris found both surprising and endearing, winnowing them into a different part of the Forest House with very little effort. 

“We stop at my chambers next,” Eris warned, wanting to make it abundantly clear what he wanted, hoping Cora felt the same. She was hard to read, her brown eyes revealing nothing. 

She looked up at him with a raised brow, one of her hands resting on her hip in a way that accentuated her figure beneath the conservative dress she wore. “You’ve changed your mind, prince?” There was a challenge in her tone, as if she would have argued had he suggested such a thing. 

Eris shrugged, feigning indifference. “Don’t feel obligated, I would hate for you to feel…used.” While his words might have sounded cold, he meant them. He was fully aware of her position as a lady’s maid, and of the fact that she served another High Lord. He recognised the power he possessed, and he did not wish to coerce Cora into his bed. 

Instead of responding, she took a measured step towards him so that their toes were nearly touching. There was an angry twist to her mouth as she lifted a hand and brought it to his lapel. She adjusted the fold, her fingers toying with a button on his shirt. 

Eris felt as the breath caught in his throat, desire thrumming in his bones, barely leashed. He wanted to see her long hair wrapped around his fist, to feel her body against his own, and to hear the sounds she made while in the throes of pleasure. 

Cora smiled, the expression looking more like she was baring her teeth. White as bone and sharp as a knife, her canines flashed in the dim lighting of the hallway. “I don’t answer to you, Eris Vanserra, first son of Autumn.” 

At the sound of his name falling from her lips, Eris closed the distance between them. Eyes shut and the sweet taste of her against his tongue was overwhelming. She clutched his jacket, using him for balance as he threaded desperate fingers through her hair, keeping her in place for better access. 

Cora gasped, her soft moan muffled as he deepened the kiss, winnowing them both to his bedroom in a flurry of dancing embers. He fisted the fabric of her skirts, searching to feel the skin of her thighs, their newfound privacy making him bold. Her hands were locked around his neck as she fought for dominance, nipping at his bottom lip in warning. 

Eris moved to the skin below her jaw, taking pleasure in the way she pulled on his jacket, urging him to take it off. He threw it to the floor, untying the cloth at his throat with quick fingers. He briefly wondered if she would let him use the piece of fabric in other ways, but all his thoughts scattered at the way she tugged at the strands of hair on the nape of his neck. He moaned appreciatively, encouraging her to be as rough as she wished. 

Eris trailed his lips along her collarbone, licking and biting at the exposed skin of the tops of her breasts. He was hard, he noticed, his length pressing painfully against the seam of his pants. He yanked at the laces tied carefully at the back of her dress and she arched into him with a sigh. 

“Cora,” he murmured, her name unbelievably familiar as it rolled off his tongue. He pressed his forehead to hers, eyes still shut as he swallowed. “Cora, tell me to stop.” 

The Night Court female brought a hand to his cheek, running her thumb along the sharp plane of his face. He ached all over, his muscles tense as he waited for her consent once again. “I don’t want you to stop,” she whispered, tugging his head back down. 

Eris smiled against her lips, grabbing the backs of her thighs to lift her into his arms. Cora hooked her legs around his waist, her slippers falling to the floor to join his discarded jacket. He nearly stumbled on the edge of the carpet as he carried her to his bed. 

They fell in a tangled heap onto the mattress, his arousal hard against her core. She ripped at his shirt, buttons hitting the ground like rain water. Each of their actions was desperate, as if they had been drowning and were coming up for air. Eris moved her skirts, adjusting the fabric so that he had better access to the space between her legs. Cora tilted her hips up, giving him the permission he needed. He gave her no warning as he slipped two fingers between her slick folds. She hummed in approval, grabbing his wrist to show him what she liked. 

He continued to move his fingers at the pace she set, using his magic to strip them of the rest of their clothes. Eris pulled away, wanting to get a better look at her. Cora made a low sound of objection, clearly not wanting him to stop. While the thought satisfied him, his overwhelming need to see her was stronger. 

There was a scarlet flush to her brown cheeks, her straight hair a tangled mess along his pillows. Her pupils were blown wide and her lips were swollen. She took Eris in hungrily, her dark eyes falling to his length almost involuntarily. 

“Beautiful,” Eris said softly, loud enough for her to hear. 

Heat blazed in her gaze, and the candles on the nightstand flared brightly in response to the inferno raging inside him. Cora reached for him, her palms skimming his shoulders to once again rest on his neck. Eris hovered above her until she pulled him closer, arching her back so that she could press herself fully against him while they kissed. He groaned, his grip on her leg tightening as he carefully angled the tip of his length at her entrance. 

Before Eris could give her the option of going slow, Cora has already shifted, taking more of him suddenly. She moaned into his mouth, Eris gasping at the feeling of her walls around him. He moved inside her, and she gave herself over completely to the steady rhythm he had set. 

Cora’s fingers fell lower on his back, her nails dragging against the skin. He felt the way she tensed beneath him, and nearly hit his head against the bed frame in his rush to move away from her. If something was wrong, if she wanted to stop—

Cora did not let go of him, her strong legs keeping him in place. She looked up at him, the question bright as starlight on her lovely features. Eris belatedly realised that she was tracing the length of a long scar with the tip of her finger. He relaxed into her arms, pressed his face into the crook of her neck so he would not need to face her. “Lashes,” he said against her skin, his movements becoming more desperate as he neared his climax.

Punishments.

Eris did not need to say it out loud, but he could practically sense understanding wash over her. Her touch instantly became more gentle as she took his chin in her hands to tilt his head in a way where he could look up at her. Cora brushed her thumb along his bottom lip. “Beautiful,” she murmured, kissing him sweetly, stunning him into silence. She was careful with her touches, handling him with care, as if he were easily breakable. 

Eris felt drunk, desire fogging his thoughts. He continued to move at the pace he had set, her hips meeting his with every movement. He brought his one hand back between her legs, stroking in time with his thrusts, wanting her to break first. 

“Eris,” she gasped, his name uttered in a strangled moan. He felt her walls clench around him, pressing his hips flush against hers as he saw stars. Her pleasure was enough to bring him to the edge. He bit down on his tongue, tasting copper as he stifled a cry. 

They stayed tangled together for a moment, Cora’s legs still wrapped around his waist loosely as he remained seated inside her. There was blood rushing to his ears, and her heart was beating rapidly, perfectly matching the rhythm of his own. Eris moved first, falling onto the mattress beside her with all his weight. The ragged sounds of their breathing broke the silence, but neither of them spoke. 

For the first time in centuries, Eris had let someone share his bed as he slept, unguarded. The night carried, and his rest was dreamless. When he woke in the morning, Cora was already gone. 

[robot-roadtrip-rants]

Fulgrim's toga

Ok I need to share this with y'all.

So during the war council about the war on Laeran, we get this description:

"The primarch wore a long flowing toga of pale cream, and the dark iron hilt of his sword, Fireblade, was visible at his hip, the blade itself sheathed in a scabbard of gleaming purple leather. The flaring wings of an eagle were embroidered in gold thread across his chest and a slender band of lapis lazuli kept his silver hair from his face."

So far so good. For those keeping track, Fulgrim probably looks something like this:

But as the council is wrapping up, this happens:

"'Then the word is given, Captain Kaesoron,' said Fulgrim, casting off his robes to reveal his magnificently polished battle plate."

There's a lot to unpack here. First of all, the usage of the word "reveal" implies that his armor was completely hidden. A toga very notably leaves half the chest uncovered. So Fulgrim isn't just wearing his armor beneath his toga, he's wearing it beneath his tunic. And remember...power armor is full plate. It covers more than a classical tunic-toga combination. Let's fix that image:

But even this image isn't enough. As @lolipop1920 points out, this is what Fulgrim's armor looks like:

I don't have the art skills to edit this properly, so I want you to pause for a moment and try to picture how a toga-tunic combo would look draped on top of all that. You can leave off the cape.

Yeah.

And remember, the text says describes this moment as a REVEAL. Apparently Fulgrim walked into a room with a tunic/toga pulled on over his POWER ARMOR, and nobody noticed.

But it gets better! Fulgrim casts off the whole ensemble to reveal his power armor! Again, this is what a toga looks like!

So either he unwound his toga and then pulled his tunic over his head...OR he just ripped the whole thing off his body.

Normally at this point I'd say, "Graham McNeill just doesn't know how this garment works." But check out this bit from a little earlier in the book:

"First Captain Julius Kaesoron was a man not used to conflicting emotions, which made his current situation deeply uncomfortable. Dressed in the triumphal purple of his toga picta and the martial red of his lacerna clock, he cut an imposing figure as he marched swiftly to the Heliopolis...A pendant of fiery amber hung around his neck and nestled between the carved pectorals of his golden breastplate."

Someone's been doing their research! I'd argue that most Westerners have some idea of what a toga looks like, it's a pretty iconic garment, but the different varieties of togas? The Latin name for the cloaks/capes that the Romans wore? Hell no.

(Also note that Kaesoron is also somehow wearing a breastplate with his toga. A toga picta is just a purple-colored toga with gold embroidery. It involves just as much complicated drapery as a regular toga--possibly more, since it's a very formal garment. I guess he could wear the breastplate over his tunic and under the toga, but that still seems like a weird combo).

So yeah, McNeill definitely knows what a toga looks like, and he still wrote this scene. And of all people it's Fulgrim who pulls off this fashion atrocity! FULGRIM! The primarch most famous for his style, elegance, and class. The peacock of 30k. That's the guy who just walked into a room with a tunic and toga pulled on over his goddamn power armor. This is at the war council for Laeran! He hasn't even set foot on the snake orgy planet! You can't blame this on Slaanesh!

[zeestarfishalien]

What Lies Between Us

[DPxDC Week 2023 Day 4: Danielle “Dani” Phantom // Halfa Jason Todd AU // Heartbeat]

• Daddy Issues Ship (Danielle “Dani” Phantom/Jason Todd) Established Relationship

“Why do you like cuddling me so much?” The question flows from his lips before he can think better of it. Instead of pulling away or changing the subject, she answered his question.

“Your heart is steadier than mine. It reminds me to breathe, to be alive.”

Jason craned his neck to get a good look at Ellie’s face. She studiously doesn’t meet his eyes, instead focusing on picking at a loose thread on his shirt.

He knew she had some sort of heart issue. Hard not to notice when they often cuddle close on the couch or fall asleep on one another. He hadn’t asked details and she hadn’t given them.

This…these words are striking all the wrong chords. Still he doesn’t push. She met Tim once and Jason didn’t see her for 3 weeks after that. She sent him pictures from Tibet, all scenery and places and people but never of her. Jason learned from that experience. He saw how worried she was about his reaction when she returned. She whispered to him in the wee hours of the morning before the sky lightened into dawn about a father-like figure who took and took and took, never gave. Someone who trapped her into a role and a place, then cast her aside as soon as the better option came around.

Jason makes sure to touch her lightly and fleetingly staying soft so she doesn’t feel trapped.

So yeah, Jason doesn’t ask what she means by those oddly ominous words.

Instead he gives.

“Sometimes I feel too heavy and hardened by some of my work, but you snuggle right in like I’m soft.”

She meets his eyes now, just briefly, but she does it.

“You are soft, Jay. You keep it wrapped up safe under that hard shell so that it doesn’t disappear. You keep living.” She pauses and Jason almost says something but stops and so she continues. “I don’t know how it works…living. I’ve been faking it in some vain attempt to pretend long enough that it becomes real, but I still don’t understand. I was made not born Jay.”

Jason takes a deep even breath.

“But you’re here now, with me. That’s living.”

“It’s so much easier, more simple, to be dead but I’m not that either. I’m stuck in this void and being with you makes me feel so much and see just how far from living I am. But your heartbeat? That makes me feel alive. It makes my heart match yours and I breathe in and feel the oxygen instead of just going through the motions.”

“That seems like a bit of a contradiction.”

“It is…but so am I.”

“I’m okay with that,” he says quietly, because he is okay with it and because she feels so safe and familiar, a feeling from a time he can’t quite remember (he thinks it might be when he was dead).

Her arms snake around him tightly and she buries her face in his chest.

He softly cards his fingers through her hair. It’s rarely loose like this. She usually keeps it in a ponytail or braid of some kind.

She hums and her body hums with her as she melts into him.

“Danny wants to meet you,” she murmurs almost sleepily when she finally unburies her face.

“Okay, I can adjust my schedule if we get a date and time.”

“Danny is my biological donor,” she adds on like she’s trying to wig him out.

“Not your father-like figure, right?” Jason clarifies.

“No.” She makes a face. “He’s the one who made me from Danny. Danny didn’t even know about me until I tried to kill him.”

Jason blinks. He was not expecting this, not today during sleepy cuddles on the couch but he’s not about to stop her or interrogate her about it.

“Danny didn’t have to care but he does. He was just a kid but he cared. He tried for me. He did what little he could within the restraints of his own circumstances. He gave me freedom.”

“Then I’d be honored to meet him.” And he means it.

“He’s like you,” she continues once again not looking him in the eyes. She’s found that loose thread again to pick at. Jason isn’t sure where she’s going with this but he has suspicions. “Where I’m neither dead nor alive, Danny and you are both dead and alive.”

“I don’t…what?”

“Death doesn’t let go even if she lets you come back. There’s a part of your soul that is forever changed by your time among the dead,” she explains. If it were anyone else Jason would already be on the defensive and anger would be bubbling to the surface. He’d have to fight to keep control of his emotions.

But it’s Ellie…

And that makes all the difference. Her earnest way of dropping bombshells has him reeling but not angry.

“I,” he pauses to search for the words, “it’s not that I didn’t know that I was different when I came back but this is a whole new level. You’re sure that I’m ‘dead and alive,’ right?”

“I’m sure Jay,” she pushes herself into a sitting position using his chest so she can look him in the eyes. “You’re a halfa. An earth born halfa but a halfa all the same.”

“How do you,” he gestures vaguely, “know?”

Ellie closes her eyes as she breathes in deep. When she opens them, her eyes glow a green not dissimilar to the Lazarus pits. She makes some sort of sound of water running over stones, but not with her mouth.

There’s an echoing pang in his chest right where those feelings of familiarity reside and his whole being vibrates with the sound of a plucked guitar string. The sound somehow escapes his body (maybe because it’s not a sound).

He lets out a soft, “oh.”

“You feel it too. The familiarity and comfort of death.”

He nods.

“I would know you no matter what form you take,” she whispers.

In lieu of an answer, Jason places his hands on hers. Slowly, ever so gently he tugs them up to his lips to place a soft kiss on them. He doesn’t know what to think or what to say. It’s kind of a lot that she suddenly dumped on him but he does know one thing for sure.

“I would like to stay with you no matter what form we take.”

It takes a moment for her to process the words but then the seriousness of the moment is broken and she’s rolling her eyes and shoving her hand in his face.

“You’re such a sap,” she complains but she softens. Jason didn’t realize she had been so tense until it’s gone. She lets him push her hand away from his face.

“Hey, you started it mx. ‘I would know you no matter what form you take.’ I just went with it.”

“Ugh…you’re right. I hate when you’re right.” With those words of admittance she huffs and drops her upper body once more to snuggle into him. He’s pretty sure she wiggles around extra just to annoy him. Today. Here and now, it could never be annoying.

Bc Ellie’s behavior might be confusing. She wanted to tell Jason about herself but was scared he would reject her so she decided to just info-dump everything on him and prepare for the worst. It’s not a great way to handle that situation but she isn’t perfect.

Also the time where she met Tim… so Tim just like started prying. The boi has no sense of boundaries and you cannot convince me that he does. She panicked and ran off bc instincts and only once she calmed down did she start taking pics and sending them to Jason to see how he was going to react.

It’s hard to get all that across when we are so limited by Jason’s pov. And that’s also the point. We are missing so much information and it’s kinda fun to write that. I’ve been needing to work on it more so here we are.

[redahlia-writes]

you make loving fun. | frankie morales x ofc

two. landslide

content (for this chapter): (kinda) religious imagery, food as love language, mentions of food, mentions of drugs and drug usage, mentions of death, a little angst from both of them, self-doubt, hurt/comfort, fluff, one bad (and explicit) joke everybody say thank you elvira, mentions of illness

word count: 7.4k

a/n: i'm so unbelievably happy about the response ch1 got, thank you all so so much

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“I was lost when you found me. I know it might sound like a cliché, like something every couple tells each other. My life had no meaning before you, I didn’t know who I was before I met you, you made me into a better person, I started to live again with you–all that stuff that sounds overused, and pointless. But in this case it’s–I had a life before you, and it was a mess, I was hanging on by a thread just for Alba. But then you came along, quite literally sweeping me off my feet and it’s true, we didn’t do things the proper way, if there even is such a thing–knock it off, Miller, I’m not giving you the satisfaction either. But Mila, amor, my life only got better from the moment you came along, and I’ll never, ever stop being grateful–for you, for the fact you put up with me, and saw in me not the person I used to be, but who I could become. I’ve never been religious, but I do believe you’ve been my salvation.”

Frankie’s head was pounding, Alba’s tears now drying on his neck and shirt, her warm forehead pressed against the bent of his shoulder and her breath calming at last after hours of crying and screaming and trying to scratch her ear.

The house was a mess, multiple attempts at making the child eat scattered on every flat surface, covers she’d drooled over abandoned on the couch and on the chairs he’d tried to sit for a few minutes before she started screaming again, forcing him to resume his walking around rocking her against his chest.

With the throbbing in his temples, he almost didn’t hear the soft knocking at his door–so soft he for a moment thought he’d imagined it and had to wait out until he heard it again, still soft, but definitely somebody’s knocking. He wondered whether it was Alba’s doctor, coming back to tell him what an awful job he’d been doing all day with her, or his mother with one of her home-made remedies he wasn’t sure would be good for the kid or not.

“Mila?” she stood with her back almost to the door, as if ready to go down the steps, turning her head only when he called her name quietly. Her cheeks were red, hair half-piled up on top of her head, and a scarf covered the lower half of her chin. “God–I thought I called you, I must’ve forgotten to call you, I’m sorry, Alba–”

“I know, you did call me,” her eyes flickered to the sleeping child, expression softening. “Let’s get her out of the air, it’s alright.”

Frankie moved almost on auto-pilot at her words, backing inside the house until she’d slipped inside, too, and closed the door behind her, toeing off her shoes the same way she had that first night they’d stumbled inside his house.

“I’m sorry,” he repeated tiredly, his hand coming up to cover the back of Alba’s head when she shifted in his arms. “She just now calmed down, it’s been a long day and I can’t–I don’t think–”

“Frankie, it’s alright, I’m not here for our date,” she smiled gently at him, reassuringly, then lifted what he’d thought was her bag between them–it was a mesh bag, anonymous wrapped up items inside he had a hard time focusing on. “I brought dinner for you–figured you wouldn’t have thought of feeding yourself through the day, so,” she shrugged, glancing away almost shyly.

And she was right–he couldn’t even remember when he’d last taken a sip of water, let alone ate anything. Did coffee count? Had he had any coffee?

“I also got the blueberry muffins Alba likes–I think, hope. For when she feels better,” she added, her gaze drifting towards the asleep child.

“You didn’t have to,” he wanted to get closer, rest his forehead against hers and close his eyes for the first time since the previous night, when Alba had woken him up with her wailing.

“I know,” she nodded, and reached over with her free hand, her cool fingertips brushing his chin–there, then gone, bringing a single moment of clarity to his mind. “I’ll heat up your dinner, then get out of your way, alright?”

Words felt stuck in his throat, a gratitude he wasn’t able to express as she caressed his cheek again, one more reassuring smile that softened her eyes before she walked towards the kitchen–he followed shortly. It was a mess in there, too, and he almost apologized.

Camila proceeded on unbothered, resting the bag on the counter and shrugging off her jacket and scarf before beginning to fix everything–placing the dirty dishes in the sink, putting aside the various attempts of food he’d tried to feed Alba unsuccessfully.

“Can I–” he took a step in her direction and froze, unsure of what to do with Alba still in his arms, and also that he could be of any help with the drowsiness in his head. “Do you need anything?”

“Just go sit down now that she’s asleep,” she hadn’t turned on the light yet, which made Frankie wonder how she moved so effortlessly through the room. In the month they’d kept seeing each other, she’d been back at his house just one more time, to recover her jacket from that first night–it had turned into having a quick dinner with him, ruefully saying goodbye at the door. “I’ll manage, don’t worry.”

For the first time that day, Frankie wasn’t worrying. Still, there was a nagging feeling in his throat–an apology, a justification, worry in the shape of non-formed words–that melted away only when Camila stopped moving and lifted her gaze to him, brown eyes so soft he felt his breath stutter, his shoulders sag. It wasn’t the first time she had that effect on him, he noticed, a way of putting him at ease just with a look.

They’d gone out often after that first night, but always for a short time that left him unsatisfied, yet warm all over. Tranquil. They’d take a walk with Alba in her stroller and the moment she locked her arm with his, he felt like the day got better, brightened up. He’d drop by her workplace for lunch after his shift was over, a little before he had to go get Alba from daycare, and Camila would kiss his cheek as a greeting and goodbye, leaving him to rub the spot multiple times a day with a foolish grin on his lips.

Each time, she seemed to sense the moments he started to grow uneasy–he could never pinpoint the actual reason, he just knew a tightness constricted his chest and his legs tingled with the sudden desire of running away, mind screaming at him that was not where he was supposed to be, not with her. A hand on the nape of his neck, her head on his shoulder, or her gaze locking with his, and he could breathe again.

“Go,” she repeated, voice still gentle but a little firmer. He couldn’t argue with her then. He wasn’t sure he had the strength to, in any case.

Alba didn’t wake once while Camila was in the kitchen–in his half-asleep state, Frankie could hear her move around, the sounds of the stove and of water running in the sink, chairs moved to be put back into place. He should’ve told her to not bother, that he could do it later.

He didn’t realize his eyes had closed until he felt the shift of air in front of him–he went to tighten his arms around Alba, only to notice the absence of her weight on his chest. He sat up abruptly, stopped only by a hand on his shoulder.

“Frankie, it’s alright,” Camila was whispering, and she turned her head towards Alba’s cradle–she’d started to outgrow it, Frankie knew he’d have to replace it soon. “She rolled around a bit, but she’s fine.”

“I didn’t feel–” he looked down at himself, a blanket draped across his legs, similar to the one tucked around the sleeping child. Her face looked more serene, the red spots on her cheeks dimmed slightly to a blush pink. He exhaled, leaning back against the couch. “I’m sorry.”

“It was just a few minutes,” her hand trailed up from his shoulder to his neck and then his cheek, another reassuring touch that had his breath slow down a little. “I made guiso carrero, and there’s coffee ready in the kitchen.”

He picked up the scent of food and coffee just as she said it, sleepy mind catching on–when he looked around, the house had a semblance of order. He brought his hand over hers still resting on his cheek, turning to brush his lips against the sliver of wrist exposed by her sleeve–the smell of the dish soap lingered on her palm, and he closed his eyes with a frown.

“You didn’t have to clean the house, too,” he muttered, and a breathy laugh left her, reaching up to brush his hair back.

“I just did the dishes, Frankie,” she held his face in her hands for a moment, looking down at him with those soft, gentle eyes that made him feel like he could crumble at any moment. “Less for you to worry about.”

“Thank you,” he breathed out, wrapping his hand around hers–his was cooler compared to hers, and when he looked back up at her, she was smiling softly again. He pulled on her hand gently, tugging her closer as he straightened his back, and brushed a quick kiss to her bent lips as she caressed his face again, up to his ruffled hair.

It was a soft kiss, quick and shallow, a support to his words, a further thanking.

“Here,” she let go of him and, reluctantly, he let her move back towards the coffee table, picking the warm bowl to hand him. “You eat up, I’ll get out of your hair.”

“Wait,” struggling with balancing the bowl on one hand, he reached up again to grab her wrist. He looked at the stew swaying in the bowl, then glanced up at her, his lips slightly parted. “Can you–could you stay? Just a little longer?”

“Of course,” she turned her hand so she could grab his, giving it a quick squeeze before moving to his free side on the couch, sitting down carefully with her legs folded underneath her. Frankie leaned towards her almost unconsciously, until his shoulder was pressed against hers, her warmth spreading all across his side.

Silence engulfed them–familiar and easy, interrupted only by the scraping of Frankie’s spoon across the plate. With each mouthful, he noticed how hungry he’d been the whole day, how much of himself he’d poured in Alba’s sickness.

The child would make a noise, every now and then, a small hiccup that had his head jerk to the side, his whole body tense for a second, two, and then Camila’s elbow dug in his side, rooting him. Alba’s doctor had told him ear infections were common in children her age, that more often than not it was nothing to worry about, it would even heal by itself in a few days.

Still, Frankie felt unnerved. Because Alba was all he had, the one thing he could hope he was doing right, and her ear-piercing cries had made his heart drop in his stomach where it still remained, uneasy.

“I don’t know what I’m doing,” he admitted in a whisper after several more moments of silence, the empty plate abandoned on the coffee table. “I’ve never had to deal with her like this, I’ve never–it wasn’t easy when she was teething, but it wasn’t like this, and I don’t know–” he exhaled shakily, his eyes fluttering close as Camila’s hand wrapped around his, gently bringing it on her lap, fingers interlocking. “You managed to do more since you arrived here than I’ve done for the whole day.”

“I heated up some stew and cleaned a couple of dishes, Frankie,” bumping her knee into his, she turned her head to look up at his face, chin brushing his shoulder for a moment as she leaned in, then pulled back. “Don’t sell yourself so short, honey. She’ll be fine.”

Honey. Somewhere between their first night together and the third time they’d had lunch together, the nickname had started making its way into her sentences–the first time, Frankie had stopped dead in his tracks and hiccuped a breath, equally confused and endeared. He’d read the question in her eyes right away–was it too much?–and immediately kissed the tender word onto her lips again. He liked to feel her smile within each kiss.

“There’s something else,” though a hint of uncertainty colored her words, she didn’t exactly pose it as a question. And then, “what’s wrong?”

“I think I’m waiting for the other shoe to drop,” he admitted in a whisper, and when he turned to look at her she was frowning, brows pinched closer and her head tilted slightly to the side. “I’m not sure what you’re doing here, with somebody like me.”

“Frankie–” at the beginning of her argument, he was already shaking his head.

“No, you–” he sighed heavily, and she squeezed his hand, interlocking their fingers together. “There are things I’ve done–things you don’t know about me,” he lowered his gaze to their hands, keeping his voice low. “And you should know the truth, but I’m afraid that if I tell you, you’ll leave.”

“Have a little more faith in me,” still with a light frown knitting her brow, she reached up to brush his hair away from her forehead, “would you?”

“I’m not–it’s bad,” unable to help himself, he sought her touch furthermore, leaning towards her, head tilted into her hand.

“Okay,” thumb rubbing against his temple, the other fingers interlocked between the short strands of his hair, she angled her body so she was almost facing him, elbow propped up above the back of the couch in support of both herself and his head. “Try me.”

“Mila–”

“I mean it,” a delicate tug at his hair made him look up towards her again, her eyes attentive and a little expectant. “Because I’m sure whatever it is that you’ve done in the past, whatever it is that’s making you feel as if you’re not deserving of–” she hesitated a moment, glancing at their still joined hands, “of this, or more, and whatever it is you think is so unforgivable, it won’t change my mind about who you are now. Nor will it change how I feel for you. I’m sure of it.”

Would it be better like this, he wondered? Rip the bandage off before she became too essential in his life, when he was still able to let her go. Perhaps. He wasn’t sure. He was tired, and scared, for Alba and for what his confession would mean to them.

He couldn’t look at her. But he owed her that. He owed her the truth. Before it was late for her, too. It was the least he could do–after all her patience, and kindness and–

“Look at me, Frankie,” she called softly, and his eyes stopped wandering. “You don’t have to, if you don’t want to. Your past is your past–it can stay as such.”

“I know,” he lied–knew he was lying.

He knew that, whatever he decided, Camila would be fine with.

Which was why he suddenly felt so at ease, even with his fear–as long as she kept looking at him with that gentleness in her eyes, his only focus.

Which was why he needed to tell her, in spite of his nerves.

So he told her everything, tiredness aiding the words tumbling from his mouth alongside her thumb rubbing his knuckles and the attentiveness of her gaze. He told her about the military days and the boys, their bond. He told her about the afterwards, how hollow he felt, and about the cocaine, about losing his license–she knew he’d been a pilot already, just not the extent of it. He told her about Colombia, about Lorea and his money, choking up on his words a little when talking about Tom’s death.

He told her about Alba’s mother being pregnant when he left–how she hadn’t wanted to be, how she’d done it for his sake, the sake of their already failing relationship, which a part of him still thought was utter bullshit yet he couldn’t help be grateful for, because Alba was the only reason he’d managed to get some of his shit together after Colombia, to get clean, to keep going. And he told her he always felt like he didn’t know what he was doing, which terrified him, because he’d constantly heard about the parental instinct kicking in when needed and he feared it would never happen for him, that he would fail her.

“You do have that instinct,” was the first thing she said, a tentative smile on her face. It baffled him how she still managed to be gentle with him after all he’d said–he’d spoken, and she’d just listened. “That fear–you’re a good dad, Frankie. You’re good.”

“And now there’s you, too,” her lips turned in a half-pout, a flash of worry in his gaze. “Possibly the best fucking thing that has happened to me since Alba’s birth–and I’m terrified of fucking this up, too.”

“You won’t,” she spoke while a bright flush spread across her cheeks. “I’m not that easy to get rid of, Morales,” she added then, leaning towards him, her hand falling from his head to the nape of his neck.

“You’re too good to be with someone like me,” she scoffed at his whisper before pulling him closer, her hand cupped behind his head to guide him forward until she’d kissed him. Harsh, a little hasty, Frankie’s lips tingling as he freed his hands to reach for her waist to bring her closer, too, that single kiss enough to quieten his mind.

Camila pulled back just as his tongue darted out, a soft groan leaving him as he leaned further forward, his back protesting with the movement. He let his arms wrap around her middle, her knees shifting over his lap as he got her closer still.

“Let me be the judge of that,” he looked up, lips parted ready to argue, and she silenced him again, another hurried kiss that left him aching. “Nuh-hu, you’re too tired to have an argument about it now. Just take it.”

He chuckled then–low and hesitant, although amused, and tightened his hold around her as he lowered his head furthermore, until it was resting on her chest and he nodded, the movement barely visible but perceptible as she locked her arms around him, too.

“Thank you,” he said again in a breathy whisper. She hummed, fingertips scratching slowly up and down the nape of his neck, her chin coming down to rest over the top of his head, a twisted lock of limbs huddled in a corner of the couch.

“I was right, by the way,” he could feel the rumble of her words alongside the beating of her heart, eyes fluttering shut as if lulled by them both, and the smell of rosemary that lingered on her skin that he’d started dreaming of. “None of it changed the way I feel about you.”

Frankie had been to Camila’s apartment only twice–once he’d driven her back and had stopped at the door, a lingering kiss through a dance at the threshold, one step in and two out because he needed to go back home but he really, really wished he could stay; the second time, they’d stumbled inside and barely made it to the couch, barely made it out of their clothes, tangled together with soft laughter and softer sighs. 

The third time, he stood with a bag in his hand, knocking against the chipped white wood as softly as possible–still, on the other side, he heard her groan and had to stifle a chuckle. 

“Coming,” she called out, voice hoarse followed by a sniffle. The lock clicked after a few more moments, and the door opened just a inch to reveal Camila, wrapped up in a thick blanket, large framed glasses sitting on the tip of her reddened nose. She was frowning, leaning against the frame. “Frankie? What are you doing here?”

“I brought you some medicine,” he spoke softly, yet still she flinched, a little groan leaving her already parted lips. “And some of my mom’s ajiaco–pretty sure it was the only thing I would eat when I had a cold.”

“Oh,” her eyes, a little glossed, moved from his face down to the bag in his hand and up again, a tentative smile making its way on her chapped lips. “You shouldn’t have, honey,” murmured tiredly as she leaned a little more against the doorframe, her cheek pressed to the wood and eyes drifting closer.

“I know,” he shuffled forward, lowering his head towards hers. Her eyes shot open at his sudden closeness, stumbling back from him and pulling her blanket over the lower half of her face, shaking her head quickly.

“I’m gonna get you sick, stop,” her voice muffled, she stared up at him still wide eyed, rocking slightly on the spot with her arms tight against her chest. “Thank you. But go away.”

“Oh, baby,” Frankie chuckled, walking past her inside the apartment–he used the same soft voice she’d heard him use with Alba, a sort of cooing that imitated the child’s speech. She whined in complaint, trying and failing to stop him from closing the door behind him. He took advantage of her step back in his direction to lean down and leave a kiss against her forehead, right above the frame of her glasses, making her mumble again. “I’ll be fine.”

“I can’t get you sick–what about Alba?” she kept at it, walking after him as he headed towards the kitchen–she’d made coffee for him there and sat on the counter in an unbuttoned shirt and underwear, his frame slotting between her thighs as they spoke before he had to leave again. “Francisco,” though she tried to sound firm–and it worked more often than not, the mere mention of his name making him fumble to get to her–her voice was low and raspy, that whine clinging to her tone.

“Have you eaten anything?” he asked instead, placing the bag on the small kitchen table and retrieving the pot he’d taken at his mother’s when he’d dropped Alba off. Para que tu novia se sienta mejor, she’d said–to which he’d replied, stuttering a little, no es mi novia, mamá.

“Some toasted bread this morning,” she leaned her weight against the doorframe of the kitchen, taking a slow, deep breath that then had her clear her throat and stifle a cough, eyes falling shut again. “It’s fine. It’s just a cold, I’ll be fine.”

Frankie placed the pot on the stove and then, after removing his jacket, walked back towards her–with her eyes closed, she heard him coming and mumbled another complaint, trying to escape him. He held her with an arm around her shoulders, her hands pressed to his chest as he leaned down again and brushed his lips to her temple–he lingered there long enough she eventually gave up fighting him off, her entire body slumping forward.

“How’s the fever?” her skin was warm under his lips, cheeks flushed when he cupped his free hand over one, thumb gently pushing her glasses up.

“Still there,” she muttered, tipping her head back as if trying to get away from him–he could feel her pushing weakly against his chest, too. 

“And how’s your head?” he asked, rubbing his thumb across the apple of her cheek.

“I haven’t had any complaints yet,” she retorted, making him snort softly and shake his head. Her eyes fluttered open, lips turning in a half pout before adding, “Sorry, I’m–”

“You need some sleep,” bringing both hands to her shoulders, he slowly guided her out the kitchen and into the living room.

“I was sleeping!” she protested, hands curling above his chest.

“Were you?” he glanced at her glasses, and the papers scattered on the coffee table by the couch. Camila huffed and pouted again, and Frankie stole a quick kiss to her downturned lips. “Off to bed.”

“If I go to bed, I’ll just spend the whole day asleep doing nothing,” she complained, managing to make a little more resistance as he tried to push her towards the bedroom.

“Good–you’re sick, you shouldn’t be doing anything,” he reached over and took the glasses from her face, taking advantage of her rapid building to gain more ground along the short corridor that led to her bedroom. “You lie down, I’ll eat up your soup–”

“I can do that,” he sighed, stopping them both in their tracks and taking her face in his hands, glasses dangling at the side of her head as he gently tipped her head back.

“I know you can,” eyes dancing across his face, she licked her lips and sniffled again. “But let me do it for you.”

“Frankie–”

“Camila,” he mimicked her pouty tone, lowering his face to hers–she held her breath when he got closer, and he almost chuckled again. Instead, he gave her a soft smile, brushing his thumb across her cheeks. “Why are you so against the idea of me taking care of you?”

“I’m not,” she blurted out–a tad too quickly, her gaze darting away before she cleared her throat. “I just–you don’t have to. I’ll be fine.”

“I know,” he repeated, “but I want to,” her bottom lip jutted out slightly, tired gaze softening. “And it’s not out of some sort of obligation because you’ve been nothing but good to me,” he bowed his head as she turned hers, his kiss landing at the corner of her mouth. “You deserve someone looking after you, too, y’know?” another kiss to the other corner, her head twisting with a soft sigh. “You stubborn woman.”

“First time I’ve been called stubborn like that,” she murmured, his palms gently pressing into her cheeks making her speech a little more slurred, her lips in a perpetual pout.

“Like what?”

“Like it’s not an insult,” her eyes fluttered open again–not sure when she’d closed them, even less sure of how they’d reached her bedroom without her noticing–her glasses had ended up on the drawer right at the entrance of the room. Frankie’s smile was still soft as he leaned in again, and she wrinkled up her nose. “I’m not letting you kiss me, Morales. You’ll get sick.”

“I’m willing to take the risk,” he shrugged lightly, and before she could argue again he pressed his lips to hers, purposefully sloppy, her hands coming out of the blanket as if to stop him–one of his hands slid to the nape of her neck, and the slow touch made her sigh, melting into the kiss. Unlike the rest of her body, her fingertips were cold brushing his neck. “And I like that you’re stubborn,” he murmured, following it with another kiss she submitted to. “Although right now I’d like it more if you got into bed and let me take care of you.”

She tasted as if she’d eaten too many lemon candies, sweet and sour equally, her lips chapped and her breath short when he moved away to pepper the rest of her face in kisses, feeling her hands slide up from his neck to his jaw.

“Okay, fine, fine,” she took a stumbling step back and landed in a seated position at the edge of her unmade bed, her lips turned in a pout again, the tip of her nose even more red as she tightened the blanket around herself, head tilted back as if to look at him, even though her eyelids were drooping already. “But if you get sick, I’m not nursing you back to health.”

“You’re breaking my heart,” he chuckled, slotting himself between her legs to press a kiss to her forehead. Camila’s shoulders sagged, an exhale leaving her as she leaned forward against him, hands shifting up his sides. “Should I go heat up the soup?”

His hand shifted over the top of her head, brushing down the start of her long, messy braid that was tucked underneath the blanket. Camila’s head fell to his chest with a soft hum, her whole body rocking forward and then back and forward again, balanced only by Frankie’s gentle grip.

“Yes, please,” she murmured after a moment of hesitation, face half-buried into the fabric of his shirt. He could feel the warmth of her skin even through the material, and let her linger there a moment longer, one hand on her shoulder and the other still over her head, massaging her scalp gently.

“Go on, scooch,” he said then, guiding her back towards the pillows. Camila curled up on her side with a sigh, curling her hands against her chest and tugging the blanket closer with a tremble. Frankie brought the rest of the covers that were rolled at the foot of the bed over her, waiting until she stopped shivering. 

Back in the kitchen, he brushed past the rosemary plant she kept on the windowsill–he’d seen her crush some of it between her fingertips. She would carry the smell of it with her for the rest of the day, smearing it across his brow or mustache when she brushed his face–the one other night she’d spent in his bed, it had lingered in his sheets for days. 

Camila had the covers up to her chin when he returned, eyelids trembling when she heard his steps but without opening her eyes, slowly tilting her head towards him.

“Are you spoiling me with food in bed?” she hummed, a tired smile on her lips.

“After all the hassle I went through to get you in there, I am,” he walked around the bed to get to her side, placing the bowl of soup on the nightstand, alongside the water and some medicine. “Surprising, really, since it was so easy to–”

“Don’t try to sweet talk me while I’m sick, Francisco,” she grumbled, shifting a little underneath the covers–when she looked up at him at last, her eyes slightly red rimmed, he was grinning and leaning towards her. “You’re unbelievable.”

“You started it,” he replied, one knee pushing against the bed as he shifted closer–Camila scoffed, then cleared her throat. “Can you sit up?” he asked then, brushing a loose strand of hair back from her forehead. She nodded, her eyes fluttering close for a moment before she pushed herself onto her elbow.

Frankie’s body pillowed her side, her frame slightly askew as she leaned into him with a soft groan, eyes screwed shut. The room was dimly lit, sheer curtains drawn filtering the noon light.

“You’re staring,” she murmured, slightly shaky hands coming out of the blanket to fix it over her shoulders, while he folded the duvet on her lap. 

“A little,” he returned, without any other justification. She smiled tiredly, eyelids moving as if she was rolling her still closed eyes. “Food or aspirin?”

“Food,” he moved slowly, so that he could still support part of her weight as he took the bowl and carefully placed it in her hands. He wasn’t sure she’d realized how much she was leaning against him, and truth be told he didn’t want her to move. “Thank you,” murmured so low he wouldn’t have heard it if she wasn’t so close.

So he sat still as she ate, his gaze carefully trained on the light grip of her hand around the spoon–he spoke to her in the meantime, his voice soft as he talked about work, Santiago–who kept asking about her–and Alba, pulling a tired smile out of her every now and then. Camila made it half-way through her plate before her hold started faltering, cold fingers cracking softly and a light hiccup that threatened to make the rest of the food spill onto the covers.

“Alright?” he asked quietly, and she nodded, slow motions as she sank deeper back into the pillows. “Do you need anything else?” she shook her head with a quiet groan, letting him take the plate from her.

“Think I just need to lie down,” her voice remained low, a little nasal. “My head hurts,” she added, bringing one hand as if to shield her eyes.

“Here,” he curled one hand around her jaw, a gentle touch as he brought the aspirin to her mouth. Her lips parted with no hesitation, though wrinkling her nose as soon as the pill brushed her tongue–he brought the glass of water to her lips, too, tipping it back gently to help her drink as he supported her head.

She hummed when he helped her down again, settling more comfortably at her side as he fixed the blankets over her once more, back resting against the headboard–her head sinking in the pillows, she curled forward until her forehead was pressed into his side, one hand shifting up to rest on his thigh, his body working as a shield against the feeble light.

She’d felt on edge all day–the splitting headache slowing the work she was forcing herself to do, cold settling in her bones while she remained on the couch, stomach turning from emptiness because she couldn’t stand to fix herself a proper meal. Frankie’s presence had spread through her limbs like sunlight warming her, a newfound sense of safety that started in her chest and wrapped all around her with his arm around her shoulders.

“Thank you,” she whispered, and though her eyes hurt she still tipped her head back to look up at him–they were glazed over, slightly reddened, and Frankie looked back at her with a softness that made her heart beat a little quicker. “I’m sorry,” she added then, and he tilted her head to the side, confusion in his eyes.

“It’s just a cold, Mila,” he smiled, caressing the side of her neck and the shell of her ear, gently brushing her hair back. “You have nothing to apologize for.”

“It’s just–” she curled her hand over his thigh once, twice, fingers shaking until he rested his other hand over hers. “You didn’t have to be here, or take care of me, I’m–”

“I told you, I know I don’t have to,” he interrupted her with a gentle voice, her hiccuping breaths pulling him a little lower on the bed–her head shifted over his chest, standing closer now. “I wanted to–I like being with you,” he squeezed her hand, offering her another smile. “Snot and all.”

She groaned at that, screwing her eyes shut and bowing her head as if to hide away from him. With a chuckle, he coaxed her to lean back again, shifting with her until he was resting fully at her side, one arm trapped under her and the other, still holding her hand, pulling her delicately until she was pressed against him.

“You have enough going on already,” voice low, she let go of his hand and curled her fingers into his side. “Last thing you need is me being a burden like this.”

“Hey,” he tapped under her chin gently, so that she was angled towards his face. “Look at me for a moment,” she was slow in opening her eyes, the pout returning to her mouth for a split second before she trapped her bottom lip between her teeth, chewing nervously. “You could never be a burden,” she scoffed, looking away, and he pushed his thumb into her lip to free it from her hold, pinching her chin at the same time. “I mean it, baby.”

She exhaled heavily, a shaky breath as she pushed herself forward and buried her face against his chest, arm curling fully around him to keep herself against him. He locked her in an embrace with a sigh, shifting so his chin rested over the top of her head, slowly rubbing her back as she shook into the circle of his arms.

“I’m sorry,” she repeated, voice muffled by the blankets and his shirt. He shushed her gently when she said it again, hand moving to the back of her head and brushing down, freeing her hair and wrapping his finger around the end of her braid. “Frankie–”

“You need some rest, sweetheart,” he chided, soft-voiced. “We can talk about it later, alright? I’m not going anywhere.”

“I am so sorry,” was the first thing Frankie said when he opened the door. “I tried texting you but you must’ve gotten in the car already and–she ambushed me,” he looked over his shoulder and sighed heavily, his head dropping slightly.

“What are you talking about?” Camila frowned, mimicking his low tone.

“Cisco, déjala entrar,” a voice called loudly from behind him, and then he stepped aside–or, rather, was moved to the side. A woman stood by him suddenly, graying hair pulled back from her face and a big smile widening across her lips. “Ay, mírate–tan bonita.”

“Mamá,” Frankie groaned softly, to which the woman responded by backhanding him across the chest before smiling again, opening her arms towards Camila.

“Oh,” she exclaimed, eyes widening a little as her gaze darted between the two Morales. “Lo siento, señora, Frankie no me dijo–”

“Ah, no señora,” she scoffed, and promptly pulled her in a tight hug–Camila huffed at the impact, tentatively wrapping her arms back around her, her eyes turning to Frankie again. His expression looked pained, and she almost laughed. “Llamame Verónica, cariño–pasa, pasa,” she added then, shepherding her inside.

“Mamá, por favor,” Frankie closed the door and watched as the two women walked deeper into the house, his mother’s arm linked with Camila’s. “I’m sorry, I’ll fix it, I–”

“It’s alright, Frankie,” she said, looking over her shoulder with a gentle smile.

“Ah! See, Cisco?” his mother exclaimed, holding her a little tighter. “She has no problem meeting your mother,” she tipped her chin up, then patted Camila’s hand. “Él quiso esconderte,” she added then, lowering her voice in a mock whisper, and Frankie sighed.

“I wasn’t!” he protested, walking with them into the kitchen where Alba sat in her high chair. As soon as she saw them all walk in, she squealed and threw her hands in the air. “Wait, is that why you’re here?”

“Claro,” the older woman shrugged, her eyes following as Camila moved closer to Alba with a wide smile, letting the child grab one of her fingers as she leaned in and kissed the top of her head. Verónica hummed, seemingly pleased, and turned to Frankie with her eyebrows arched high. “¿Cómo sino iba a conocerla?”

“You could’ve asked,” he argued with a loud sigh, shuffling closer to Alba and Camila, her hand still held up by the child.

“I did!” she retorted, scoffing. “Few weeks ago, I gave you the ajiaco and asked when I could meet her, and you just brushed me off,” Camila’s eyebrows lifted slowly, her gaze moving from Frankie to his mother.

“Thank you for the ajiaco,” she said quickly, before Frankie could reply instead. Verónica’s expression softened again, a gentle smile that wrinkled her face. “Estaba delicioso.”

“Thank you, cariño,” she nodded her head, one hand over her chest. 

“Mamá, Mila and I–” Frankie started, and got cut off right away.

“Mi-a!” Alba exclaimed, tugging on the woman’s hand. Verónica’s eyes widened, and Frankie’s head whipped around to look at the child as she squealed in delight. “Mi-a, mi-a,” she repeated, bouncing a little in her seat.

“What is it, nena?” Camila asked softly, lowering herself next to the high chair.

“Did she just–” Frankie looked between Alba and his mother, whose lips had parted slightly as she stepped forward. “Alba, sweetie, can you say that again?” he asked, shifting until he was crouching in front of them both. “Were you calling for Mila?”

“Mi-a!” she said once more, wrapping both her hands around Camila’s one. The woman frowned lightly at Frankie’s reaction, her gaze flickering between him, his mother, and back to the child again.

“Once more,” Frankie asked, his face split open by a wide grin. “Come on, sweetie.”

“I’m gonna go, mijo,” Verónica said softly, and he turned his head around.

“Wait, mamá, it’s–” she smiled softly at him, lowering herself to kiss the top of his head.

“Lo sé,” she told him gently, rubbing his shoulder. “Enjoy it–both of you,” she added, winking in Camila’s direction–she looked confused, still, and when the woman chuckled softly it turned into a deeper frown. “It was nice meeting you, Camila.”

“You too,” she said, though her voice sounded uncertain, watching as she walked out of the kitchen with one last pat to Frankie’s shoulders. “I don’t understand–”

“First word,” he breathed out, his eyes wide and shimmering as the smile did not waver from his face. “That was her first word–you were,” he said, turning to look at her.

“What?” Camila felt like the air had left her lungs, warmth spreading across her skin down to where Alba was still holding onto her, and her eyes widened, too. “Coño–sorry. What?” she repeated, words falling rapidly from her lips rapidly.

“I think she heard me say it so many times and it stuck,” he murmured–Alba was looking at them, her eyes attentive and shimmering, tilting her head towards one and then the other, still smiling wide. “Isn’t that right, honey? Will you try again?”

Alba’s only response was a soft babble, waving her hands around and dropping Camila’s. Frankie waited, expectancy bright in her eyes, but when the child just kept blabbering, he sat back on his heels and tilted his head.

“Is that alright?” Camila asked softly, lowering herself at his side.

“Well, she already said it more than once,” he shrugged lightly, his hand shifting blindly to reach for hers across the floor.

“I mean that it was–” she cleared her throat, hooking her fingers around his, “that it was me.”

“Oh, baby,” he said softly, shuffling closer to wrap his arm around her waist–the position was far from comfortable, the hard, cold floor under both their knees unwelcomed, and one hand each still lifted towards Alba’s high chair. “Of course it is, why wouldn’t it be?”

“I don’t know,” she shrugged lightly, leaning into his side. “This is still new, and it was her first word, I don’t–” digging his fingers into her side, he pulled in to kiss her cheek, impetuously. “It’s important.”

“Yes,” he nodded, peppering softer kisses down her shoulder. “And I’m glad it’s you.”

“Mi-a!” Alba exclaimed, leaning all the way forward across her chair–they straightened quickly, legs protesting at their kneeling stance as they faced a giggling Alba, both their smiles widening.

“I think she’s gonna abuse her new power,” he murmured, bumping his shoulder with hers. She chuckled, looking between the two of them, and Frankie turned slowly–head first, then his eyes. “My mom liked you, you know?”

“She’s nice,” she hummed, bumping her hip into his. “Did she really drop by because she knew I was coming?”

“Yes,” he sighed, eyes fluttering shut. “I’m sorry–and I wasn’t trying to hide you, I just–”

“I don’t think you could hide anything from her, Frankie,” Camila chuckled, bringing one hand to his shoulder and slowly letting it slide to the nape of his neck.

“No, probably not,” he sighed in defeat, tilting his head back into her hand. “Plus, she’s known about you since the first night.”

“Wait, what?” a little gasp left her with the question, and he laughed softly. “Frankie!”

“It’s not my fault, you were upstairs when she dropped Alba off,” he moved closer again, both his arms coming down to wind around her waist. “You said it yourself–can’t hide anything from her.”

“You know I won’t be able to face her again, right?” still chuckling he inched closer to brush his lips to hers–one kiss, two, one a little deeper than the previous one and so on.

“Too bad,” he mumbled between kisses that widened her smile. “I think you’re stuck with us, now.”

“Mi-a!” Alba added, as if to highlight her dad’s point, and Camila melted into a fit of giggles, the hand resting behind Frankie’s head pulling him in for a deeper kiss.

That same evening, when Frankie looked at his phone after Camila had fallen asleep on the couch–her head on his lap and her arm around Alba, keeping her in place–there was a single message from his mother: No la dejes ir.

next

[artdivadej]

Survivor’s Remorse

Part 9

18+ | PTSD

Part 10

When I awake again, I feel well rested and secure. I'm curled up in a ball around someone who's unnaturally warm. The arms around me tighten a little as I wiggle. Blinking a few times, I see that whoever was my cuddle buddy, didn't have much choice in the matter. My hands were practically inside their vest as I held it in a vice grip.

Oh.

Oh......

Oh shit!

I tilt my head up and see that I am in fact curled up against Peeta's broad chest, his arms wrapped tight around me as we slept.

This was not safe. I could’ve accidentally killed him in my sleep!

"G'mornin" he mumbles with a yawn above my head

I face the consequences of my actions and pull my head from his chest, sliding back a little, not that his arms allowed me to go but so far. His eyes are groggy but trained on my face, inspecting.

"How do you feel?" he hummed

"Rested" I admit "You shouldn't have slept here"

"Not like you gave me much choice there sweetheart" he chuckles looking down to his chest

I follow his gaze and quickly unwrap my nails from the vest. There are even punctures in the fabric where they'd been clutched.

"I'm sorry"

"Don't be. I haven't slept that well in a while either" he grins sliding into a sitting position

I follow suit and look around the cellar. I'm nestled between Peeta and Cressida, Katniss is checking Finnick's shoulder over on the boy's pallet. It's still dark out.

"How long was I out for?"

"A full day. Tigress brought more food and news about the fighting. We've started planning what to do from here"

"You should've woken me"

"No. You needed the rest. We can strategize and fill you in later"

"What's been decided?"

"The rebels are in the city. Only a few blocks from here so, they're evacuating. Most will be going to the mayor's mansion tomorrow. That's when we leave" he explains

"We'll put on some disguises and fit in with the others going there. Gale and I will be together. I look enough like you that it'll be a distraction in case someone does figure out who we are"

"You could just let me go first. Even if a mob chases me, it's a Capitol mob. I can outrun and overpower them to buy some time for a distraction" I offer, taking the can Cressida offered me

"No. You and I will be together"

"I'm not going to just throw myself at an angry mob" I sigh

"And how am I supposed to trust that?" he fires back accusingly

"I guess you can't. I can't promise the mutt version of me wouldn't hurt you when the gunfire starts either"

"Exactly. So we go together"

***

Haymitch pats my knee twice.

"Even in 13 you didn't have it easy. Yet, look at you now sweetheart" He smirks gesturing between me and Peeta, whose nose is buried in my hair "A Victor doesn't begin to cover the two of you. Don't let each other go. You'll need one another"

"I guess I'd better go pack" I sigh, not wanting to leave the safety of Peeta's arms. In our home.

I wanted to stay buried in his scent forever. Shielded from a world that had taken all of me and even after I regained myself, or part of, they still demanded more. But my Peeta. My sweet Peeta. He had hands that made everlasting memories of warmth and love for all blessed enough to see his creations. As long as I was with him, I could weather any storm.

***

When we got to the train platform I was practically vibrating with nerves.

It was the same train.

I stop cold in my tracks and just stare at the infernal thing. My carryon bag forgotten at my feet. So many hijacked nights from my days and nights on this very train. Why did it have to be this train?

As I feel myself beginning to drown, warmth envelops me from behind, secure arms wrapped around my waist. His lips and nose are buried in my hair and it calms my palpitating heart.

"They didn't give use separate rooms this time" Peeta informs me

"I think after the maybe-baby bomb, they've given up all pretense of us being pure" I snark, pleased that he threads his fingers through mine and give a squeeze

"Not like we ever followed that rule anyway" He chuckles picking my bag up and slinging it over his broad left shoulder, his right hand still in mine.

I let him lead me into the train towards the north end, close to the nose, where our room would be. We're in between it, in the dining car, that is thankfully not set up like a opulent feast. There's a spread but it's humble. A roasted duck, some venison slices, and rabbit with a bowl of greens for a salad. Peeta must have informed the train staff about my appetite. I wanted a bite of that rabbit now, but I knew I had to get settled first.

"I'm going to find Haymitch. Make sure he's not bullying the staff in the bar car. I promised to keep him behaved until we got there" Peeta rolls his eyes playfully

I wrap my arms around his neck and tuck my face into the column of it, taking a large inhale, trying to commit his security and scent to memory. Rubbing my nose against it, I melted my body to his. He dropped the bag and quickly gathers me up in his arms, always understanding me without a need to hear it.

"I'll be right back. I promise"

"I'm ok. I'll be OK" I repeat to reassure us both

I know that Peeta won't let go before I do, so I reluctantly release him, then take a step back to make sure I don't pull him right back into my arms.

"Go. Before I change my mind" I growl giving his hard chest a small shove that doesn't even make him budge

"You're a bossy little thing today" Peeta teases before throwing his hands up in surrender and taking long, quick strides to find Haymitch in the other car.

I take a steadying breath, scoop the bag up and walk into the compartment. When I step inside, my breath catches and sweat breaks out over my cool skin, terror seizing me tight. That bed. I walk over to it with legs of lead, running my fingers over the silken sheets covering the mattress. Even the colors of the sheets were the same. Then the door opens and in he walks.

Mean Peeta. 

My cheek throbs, a memory so viciously clear, knocks the wind out of me. I feel the haze taking over and I can't fight against the overwhelming fear. It's threatening to pull me under and I can't make sense of where I am anymore as my breath comes out in heavy pants. Pupils receded to miniscule slits, hands twitching with the need to fight back at the mist forming the Visage that is Mean Peeta. His slow stride towards me, distaste tilting his lips as his too bright eyes look me over with boredom.

He was here. How did he get here!

No!

I roar loudly and throw a lamp that'd been sitting on the dresser at him, refusing to let him near me ever again. He ducks the lamp and smirks at me condescendingly. I wasn't caged anymore. I'd rip his damn throat out.

Where was my Sweet Peeta?!

[dingochef]

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x You (OFC)

Warnings: Swearing, Smut (MDNI 18+ Only), Stalking, P in V, oral (female and male receiving), Semi-public sex, light spanking,

Summary: Jake officially moves in, but that's not what throws you off kilter, it's memories from the past.

Word Count: 3.4k

Chapter Specific Warning: Brief mention of eating disorders in general. No character has an eating disorder in this story.

My Masterlist

Series Masterlist

Chapter 5

Chapter 6: From Afar

Jake wasn't kidding when he said it wouldn't take him long to pack and be out of his quarters. He has packed up his belongings and is back at your house in under four hours.

You are relieved, the few times you had visited the apartment always felt lonely and impersonal. It also didn't help that the floor below him was all of his students, which was too close to have any real separation from his job.

You've only lived with one other person before and in a place you both chose to move to so it was a blank slate you filled together. Jake is moving into your house where you've lived for a couple of years. You want Jake to feel like this is his home, too.

You had cleared out a drawer in your dresser for Jake to stash some clothes early on in your relationship, but now you need to reallocate storage space in the bedroom. You and Jake are standing in the bedroom discussing it.

"I won't lie, I do have an absurd amount of clothing between work clothing, casual clothing, and cycling/workout gear," you say.

Jake laughs,

"We'll figure it out, besides I like all your clothes especially when I'm taking them off you," he replies and kisses your temple.

"So, I was thinking I'll clear out half the closet for your frequently worn hangables and we can put the rest of your stuff and formal uniforms in the guest room closet. We could also get another dresser for you or get a double one, I think there's room for either option," you say as you lay out a plan.

Jake wraps his arms around you and replies,

"You are such a cute engineer, the way you pounce on a problem is adorable."

You give him a little scoff and he continues,

"I think the closet will work and that another dresser is a good idea, it gives us more flexibility in layout."

Nodding, you reply,

"I think I can get a matching dresser from the place you got this one, or there's a neat vintage shop in Old Town where we could find something."

The bedroom settled, you walk into the guest room. You have a very fancy futon with a good mattress for guests and a desk, but not much else in the room.

"This room doesn't really have a function, I sometimes get friends visiting, but when my family comes for Christmas my parents just rent a beach house for a week and we all hang there."

"Christmas in San Diego, sounds nice."

"Yeah, with my parents in Michigan and my sister in Chicago convincing them to come somewhere warm in the middle of the winter was an easy sell."

"Back to this," you wave your hand at the room, "If you want to carve out a space that's yours or have any ideas this room is a blank canvas."

You step over to Jake and wrap your arms around his waist,

"I want you to feel at home here, that this house is your home, so if there's anything you want to do, change, or need, let's talk about it. You know, paint, sheets, whatever."

He kisses your forehead.

"I appreciate you putting so much thought into all of this," he looks down at me, "I do feel at home here, I like the way it's decorated, light and airy, you have very comfortable furniture and whatever 12,000 thread count sheets you use are like sleeping on a cloud. This is home because you're here with me."

"You are too sweet," you respond standing on your tiptoes to give him a kiss.

"I have a few things back in Texas at my parents house that I'd like to get up on a wall and a few other mementos that I thought I'd grab when I went back for Thanksgiving," he pauses,

"Speaking of, would you like to come with me and meet my family?"

You are surprised and not at the same time that Jake has asked you to meet his family. A brief memory of meeting Liam's family for the first time flashes into your brain; it is not a good memory.

"Depends, do you like your family? I've walked into a hornet's nest of passive aggressive familial animosity and I'd prefer not to do it again."

Jake chuckles,

"I do like my family, in fact I love them. I think you'll like them and they are definitely going to love you. Seriously, my mom is probably going to write me off and adopt you as the daughter she never got."

It's your turn to laugh,

"It sounds great, I'd love to spend Thanksgiving in Texas with you and the Seresin clan."

"I'll call my mom later and let her know the news, that and my new address."

Jake is beaming, the panty dropper smile is brilliant on his face.

The transition of Jake living with you is hardly noticeable or different than how things were before in the daily routine of your lives.

It's a few days into your official cohabitation when you get a large box in the mail from your mom.

You're opening it up when Jake gets home.

"What's all that?" he asks as he takes his shoes off. You have placed the large box on the coffee table and are looking through it.

"My mom sent it. My parents have decided to downsize and are looking at getting a condo on the lakeshore, so they've been cleaning out the house in DeWitt. My mom said she was sending some 'important stuff' that I left there," you answer.

"The lakeshore?" Jake asks.

"Sorry, Michigan thing. A condo somewhere in one of the towns on Lake Michigan, in this case, or any of the four Great Lakes that Michigan borders."

He laughs at your very tourist guide answer and sits down next to you. There's a few formal family portraits in frames on top, you laugh as you look at the absurd 90s clothes and hair.

Jake laughs,

"El, you had a perm."

"I know, a poodle perm, too. I asked my mother later in life if she laughed when she sent me to the bus stop in the morning."

The next artifact to come up is your high school diploma and tassel. you put it aside and look under it. There are about a dozen DVDs with homemade labels on them.

"Oh yeah, my dad said something about taking our family videos and putting them on DVD."

Flipping through the DVDs you see that most are in chronological order and include things like birthday parties, holidays, and school events. The last two give you pause. The first is labeled with your mom's handwriting and says, "Elsa Gymnastics - Before" and the second one says, "Elsa Gymnastics - After."

You look down and the rest of the box is filled with gymnastics medals and trophies and other useless trappings of competition. Something in you flares up in anger.

"Jesus Christ, mom. It's been nearly 20 years and she still hasn't let it go," you spit out.

Jake takes the two DVDs from your hands and reads the labels.

"Are these seriously divided by when you fractured your ankle?" he asks, an incredulous edge to his voice. He has peered into the box and seen the mountain of medals and trophies. He puts his hand on your back and starts to rub gently, sensing your agitation.

You huff an angry laugh through the tears that are starting to form, "Nothing like your parents making you feel like a disappointment from afar, thank you US Postal Service."

"That's a little fucked up, El. I can't understand how any parent wouldn't be busting with pride for all that you've accomplished in your life."

You sigh,

"Please let them know that. They had one dream for me for so many years, but it wasn't my dream. They poured so much time, energy, and money into making that happen. I get the initial disappointment, but it's been almost 20 years and I've gone on to do some pretty god damn amazing things with my life, but they still hold onto the grief of losing that one dream. I always thought that a parent's dream for their kid would be for them to be happy in life and not a serial killer."

He snickers at the last part and takes your hands in his,

"I think most parents aim higher for 'not a serial killer'. What matters is if you're happy with your life, El. Not them. You are an amazingly smart, beautiful, funny, and kind woman who has a goddamn PhD in aerospace engineering with a job that engages and challenges you and a devastatingly handsome boyfriend who is a decorated fighter jet pilot."

You laugh softly at his self assessment.

"People wouldn't write that in a movie script because it sounds too good to be true," he says, earnestly.

You look at him through the last of the tears and say,

"Did I mention I love you?"

"Not in the last five minutes, but I'll take that any time. Here," he stands and pulls you up. He rifles through the rest of the box to see if there's anything else besides medals and trophies. Seeing none he picks up the box and grabs your hand.

"Come with me and grab some shoes," he tells you. You break apart for a brief moment to slip on some sandals by the back door. He is outside and heading towards our garbage bin in the alley with you following close behind.

"I think I'm reading the situation right, this all shit you don't want in your life anymore?" he asks, putting the edge of the box on the edge of the now open bin.

"Yes, I've made my peace with it and it's all just reminders of the past and shit I don't need," you answer.

With that answer he tips the box of medals, trophies, and bad memories into our trash. It is a loud din of metal clanking and jingling. There is a silence after everything settles in the trash and you feel lighter. Jake responsibly breaks down the box and puts it in the recycling bin.

Taking your hand he leads you back into the house. He sits down on the couch and pulls you down with him.

"I didn't throw the DVDs out because I want to see that part of your history," he says, almost asking gently.

You nod and you get it, it was such a big part of your life that it makes sense that he wants to know about it.

"No time like the present. I'm already in an emotional state so why not go with it," you say a bit darkly. You pick up the DVD labeled 'After' and put it in the player and turn on the TV.

Surprisingly, the first meet to come up is one from college, you recognize the shiny shamrock on your leotard as you run for a vault, your face determined. As it plays you look over to Jake, who is mesmerized.

"That's unbelievable you could do something like that with your body. Hell, most people pull a muscle getting off the couch," he says watching the past you on the TV.

The TV you had landed the vault beautifully, you bow and trot off out of the frame. The next thing to appear is you on the parallel bars. You snuggle into Jake and he wraps his arms around you.

"Babe, not to be blunt, but you seemed really small back then," he asks with a bit of hesitancy in his voice.

"Yeah, I was about 15 pounds lighter than I am now. There was immense pressure to keep your weight down, I'm lucky I didn't come out with an eating disorder. I didn't really have tits or an ass till you went to grad school and stopped working out four hours a day, basically."

"Really, you are a tiny little thing right now and in incredible shape. You don't even weigh enough to give blood. I didn't realize how intense some of the training was and how that would have affected you growing up. It makes it even more amazing that you're a well adjusted human being after all that."

"Yeah, it took some therapy and mostly just getting away from my parents and living the life I wanted."

Jake looks down at you where you have your head on his chest.

"And that life led to us, so I'm incredibly grateful for that. Plus, I do have to tell you how much I appreciate your tits and ass among other things," he says leaning down to kiss me.

You let out a little laugh,

"You are a very good man, Jake Seresin."

Your storm of your emotions has wound down and you are filled with the need to have Jake surround you with his love in every way possible.

Pausing the TV, you stand up and pull on Jake's hand to get him up off the couch. You take his hand and guide you and Jake to the bedroom.

You guide his head down and kiss him,

"I need you, Jake, I need your love," you whisper into his neck, your voice cracking a little at the end. You see the understanding in his eyes, in what you're asking for. Jake brings his hands up to your cheeks to cradle your head and kisses you so tenderly it brings tears to your eyes that Jake wipes away with his thumbs. He wraps his arms around you and squeezes you into a tight hug.

Lifting you up he gently places you on the bed. He pulls back and undoes your pants and slides them off. Then he works on his clothes, unbuttoning his shirt then his pants letting them all fall on the floor. The bed tips as he kneels down and crawls up to you pulling you into his arms and kissing you. His hand slips under your shirt and rubs the soft skin of your stomach.

You lean up to pull your shirt off and Jake's hands have slipped to your back to undo your bra. Clothing discarded Jake rolls you so that you are on your sides. He pulls your leg on top of his and pulls you close so that you are chest to chest. He brings his hand up to stroke your cheek and looks in your eyes and whispers,

"El, you love you so much. I can't change your past, but know our future together is brighter than any shitty medal ever would have been."

His words overwhelm you and you feel a part of yourself heal, his love so strong and pure. It strikes you that is what love really is, unconditional and beautiful. You can't form the right words, so you desperately kiss him trying to let him know how much you are feeling right now. Small tears slip down your cheeks as you process it all. When you're finally able to talk, all you can say is, your voice a little thick,

"Jake, you need you, need you right now."

He understands and slides down to slip off your underwear and his. Sitting up he gently pulls your arms for him to straddle his lap.

You sit in his lap and enjoy the feeling of strength and protection that envelop you as Jake wraps his strong arms around you. Your head is tucked into his neck and he smooths his hands over the expanse of your back and you for the same. The position places your core over his rapidly hardening cock and you start slowly running your heat over him, your quickly forming slick wetting him. Everything you've ever wanted is here at this moment, and is Jake. You reach behind yourself and guide him into you. You both moan at the contact and connection. You savor the initial stretch, the initial joining, your breathing starting to speed up and your foreheads together.

Rolling your hips Jake's breath catches and a low groan bubbles up from his chest. His hands slide down to your hips and join the gentle pace you have set. The room is filled with soft moans and heavy breathing. Your hips are suddenly lifted by Jake's strong hands and you are moving farther up and down his cock. You engage your legs to help speed up the pace. A stab of pleasure shoots through you. Jake has moved one of his hands to your clit and is drawing circles around it in time with your pace.

There is so much emotion running through you right now; you feel raw, vulnerable, and most of all safe. That thought combined with your now almost frantic pace and Jake's efforts on your clit brings your orgasm hurtling towards you. The intensity overwhelms you and tears pinprick at the edges of your eyes as you cling to Jake as the waves wash over you. Jake's breathing has stuttered and he spills into you reaching his high. Wrapping his arms around you, he murmurs words of praise as your breathing slows,

"My El, so strong, so amazing."

You let them wash over you along with a warm feeling of comfort. Jake gently lays you down. You are so exhausted, emotionally, physically, and sexually and you quickly slip into a light sleep.

You wake a little while later, a little disoriented, not used to taking a nap this late in the day. Jake is cooking something, the smells luring you out of bed. Throwing on one of Jake's t-shirts and some underwear you walk out to the kitchen to find Jake putting some bowls of food on the table. He is wearing a pair of gray sweats and, of course, a faded Navy t-shirt. He turns and gives you a bright smile and says,

"I was just about to wake you, figured you needed the rest."

Stepping up to Jake you wraps your arms around his waist, nuzzling your face into the soft fabric of his shirt on his chest.

"I did, definitely helped me recharge a bit. What's for dinner?"

"Whipped up a quick stir fry," he answers. You break the embrace and lead him to the table sitting down to eat. He is looking at you trying to read your face to see where you're at emotionally. You take a bite, chew and swallow it savoring the umami and other delicious flavors. He continues to watch your face closely, you help him out and say,

"First, this is really good. I like the sauce," you reach out and take his free hand,

"Second, I want to really thank you for being here today, for that emotional landmine. I know if it was just me, I don't know how I would have dealt with it. Probably would have angrily drank too much wine and then put all that emotion into a box and not dealt with it."

He snorts,

"So you would have worked through it in a totally healthy way."

"Yeah, but having you here to share it and do something about it, even if it was just a mostly symbolic act, it was a million times better. Thank you."

He gentle shakes his head,

"El, that's just one benefit you bring to our relationship, besides keeping you knee deep in orgasms." You give him a well earned laugh.

"I'm here to share your burdens and support you, that's what love is. I think it was more than a symbolic act, your mom said 'important stuff'. Those medals and trophies were important to her, not you. They were just bits of metal that brought you back to bad memories. Getting rid of them shows you've moved past that. All the good that gymnastics brought you, your degree, your crazy capable body, and your own joy when you did it for yourself, that's what you get to take with you, not trinkets that supposedly made your parents proud."

"Jake, stop, I'm going to start crying into your stir fry," you squeak out through a few tears. Wiping them away and you squeeze Jake's hand.

"I want you to know this goes both ways, I'm here to support you too, babe. You and you are a team," you say as you point to both of you.

"I don't want you to pull some stoic soldier shit when life hands you a problem. I will always be here for you."

"It's a deal, El. It's a deal."

Chapter 7

@starswholistenanddreamsanswered

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[vivianquill]

Scar had known that this particular quest wasn't going to be easy. None of them ever were, even if they looked like they'd start out that way.

Cub and Zedaph had both pointed them towards the fabled Deepfrost Citadel. It was their best chance to find information on the contract Grian's bloodline was subject to. And it wouldn't hurt to go looking through the grand old library, surely it was full of a million useful books and spells.

They got into town early in the evening, and decided to get settled in for the night. It was freezing at night, they wouldn't do anything except exhaust themselves if they tried climbing the mountain at night. Scar sat down at a table in the corner with Grian, Gem, and Pearl, while Impulse and Skizz booked them a pair of rooms and sorted out dinner.

"There's a guide to the Citadel, if we can find him." Skizz waved a note, "The barkeep said the only way to get up to the Citadel and back is to have a guide."

"Did you get a name?" Gem asked, snatching for the note.

"Yep." Impulse slid into a seat next to Pearl, Skizz dropping down on his other side, "Said the guide's name was 'Jimmy'."

"I'll see what I can find." Scar grinned, raising his hands and calling Jellie from the ether as he prepped to look for the person attached to the name. It was one of the perks of having vex blood. If he had a name, then he had a chance of finding them.

Jellie hopped up onto the table from his lap. Grian absentmindedly started petting her, and Scar reached his arms across the table. With Gem and Grian pressed to either side of him, and Impulse and Skizz taking his hands from across the table to hold him steady, Scar closed his eyes and slipped from his body and into Jellie.

Well, Scar was still in his own body, but his perception was in Jellie's, via their bond.

"Jellie, we need to find the guide to the Deepfrost Citadel. His name is Jimmy." Scar explained. Man it was always strange to see himself through someone else's eyes.

Jellie mrrrp'd, bumping her face into Scar's cheek, before she jumped off the table and scampered out the door and into the town. Scar could still feel his friends pressed against his side, and holding onto his hands. They would squeeze twice if he needed to come back to himself, but for now? Scar watched Jellie skitter down the cobbles, following the magic strings hanging in the air--

This was-- quite the abnormal amount of magic, if he was being honest. He hadn't been able to taste it upon simply walking into the town, but through Jellies eyes it was obvious now. He urged Jellie to get climb up to somewhere high through their bond-- there!

That church spire would be a good lookout. And Scar really needed to see the whole town.

It took longer than he would have liked for her to get up there, hopping from trellis to windowsill to roof to spires.

"Oh. . . Oh no. . ." Scar's jaw dropped, at seeing the weave of magic draped over the city like netting over a pond. It stretched up to the base of the mountain, and the same icy threads seemed to drift from off the snow-swept slopes.

Jellie turned her gaze down to the streets, and each and every person seemed to be caught in the threads. Scar needed a closer look. Jellie popped out of existence, to appear back on the table in the tavern.

"Scar? Scar what's wrong?" Pearl looked two seconds away from snatching Jellie up to keep Scar there with them.

"The magic's too thick." Scar hunched his shoulders, nudging Jellie to hop down, "Hold on. I need a better look."

And it was even stronger in here, now that he knew what he was looking for. The light made the threads harder to see, and they were already trying to tug at him and his friends. It wouldn't be held off by their innate magics for long. Scar needed to figure out what it was before they all ended up cursed.

The barkeep was wrapped up like a mummy, threads drifting free with every movement like seagrass in a river. It was thickest in a band that wrapped around his head, covering his eyes and ears. There was another thick band wrapped around the barkeep's neck, plenty of threads snaking their way out into the air around him.

Jellie skittered back out the door, nudged once again by Scar's bond. He needed to see a few more of the people around here. Were they all wrapped up in this? Was it harmful?

Stars in the sky. This was going to be complicated.

After peeking at a few more of the townsfolk outside. Scar dropped back into his own eyes and ears with a huff.

"Scar, what's going on?" Skizz was staring at him from across the table, both hands still clutching onto Scar's.

"It's cursed." Scar managed, his thoughts still tangled around the shock of the revelation. The air tasted of icy magic so thick it almost made him want to gag. "This whole town-- it's draped in-- in spiderwebs of magic. It's so thick. And it's everywhere"

[novelyst]

Skyrim Female Head UV: The Definitive Post

We begin as like a cooking blog's recipe, with a sort of vaguely related yet unnecessary anecdote. I've been thinking about putting modding stuff up on this blog, lately. I used to run into the problem on Discord where I'd be like: man, I'm spamming this channel, who even cares about this stuff anyway? So I made my own dev thread in which to spam these posts. As more and more people started joining, though, and still not replying to anything I wrote, I ran into the same issue where I've now become hesitant to post whatever I want in my own dev thread for fear that people will find it annoying. Silly, I know, but I figure that this here, tumblr, is the option with which I cannot go wrong, right? So long story short: this might turn into a mostly modding blog now.

I'm about to do an explanation of UV mapping as an introduction to this post, for those who know very, very, little about it. Many of you reading this may already be modellers or texturers who don't need this dumbed down, so you are welcome to skip to the big red UV map if you wish.

Without further ado: this is Nur.

Nur is what I would call a 'chatterbox', but she was made in the same way as any paper fortune teller. One thing that you should note about her: she is three-dimensional. I have power over Nur's state of being, and I can unfold her.

Unfolded Nur looks very different. We can see that her mouth, usually a triangular bipyramid minus a couple of faces, is now four separate triangles. We could also conceivably understand this as a '2D' version of Nur. It's flat, but it has all of the colour information that ends up on the surface of her 3D self; the area painted red is the 'mouth' part, the top squares on the left and right are the upper part of the 'face'.

Now, if we were to make a 3D mesh of Nur, we could use something like the second image for her texture and tell the computer which area of it should be shown on the surface of a given polygon. We'd do this by giving every point two dimensional coordinates, instead of inventing some kind of new format where every voxel in 3D space is assigned a colour—after all, it's only the surface that matters, right? This process of giving 3D vertices 2D-coordinates on a texture is called UV mapping. What you should really take away from this is the UV map holds the information of how to wrap a texture on to a mesh.

And, since all vertices already have X, Y, and Z coordinates, (and W is used for something else,) their two-dimensional texture coordinates are U and V.

Now, UV maps can be different from a piece of paper you fold in a few ways. What you mainly need to remember is that in UV Maps, we aren't bound by angles, length, or area – the lines making up a UV map are 'stretchy'. This mapping allows, then, for you to 'stretch' the texture over the surface of the mesh.

Now that everyone is (hopefully) on the same page, let's move on to the subject of the post!

This is the UV map of the female head mesh in Skyrim. Right away, a few weird quirks are going to stand out about it.

It is not truly vertically symmetrical along any X-coordinate.

It is kinda symmetrical along a line a short ways to the left of the centre.

Even along that line, the eye sockets are not symmetrical.

The symmetry along that central line starts falling apart towards the boundaries of the image, where there is not really very much symmetry whatsoever and what there is seems to fold more along the actual central vertical axis.

Now, if none of that stuff stood out immediately to you, or you are having trouble seeing it, that's absolutely fine! This image here should help to clarify the things I just mentioned.

The white line in the middle highlights the true centre of the image, from which (as you can see) the UV of the mesh's 'central line' is offset. The sort of lens-shapes either side of it trace the UV map's eye sockets, which are quite different.

Now, is all of this stuff fine? I mean, kind of. No, it's not really a good UV map (there are serious issues, for example, at the back of the scalp) and the symmetry problems all suck for working with it as a texture, but it's still useable and, for a high-poly to low-poly workflow, won't really impact things all that much for the creator. Painting on to the mesh, baking from a sculpt – all these will suffer for a worse UV map, but are still essentially the same process as with a different UV. The game's textures were made for this UV map, and Bethesda seem to have been able to manage fine with it.

Credit to Bethesda Game Studios. A section of the 'FemaleHead_MSN.dds'.

The issues come in more for people working on a 2D level. Making textures in photoshop? Painting some tintmasks? Then these things are going to annoy you, especially those darned eye sockets. So, is there a better way?

A Better Way

Sorry, that section header is kind of misleading. There's an extent to which this is subjective but, honestly, I don't think there really is a better way. I firmly believe that you can't fix Bethesda's UV because it's not broken. A little annoying to work with? Sure. But it wasn't meant to be another way, and it works with the textures provided by the game. There is nothing to fix.

On the 15th of March of 2012, Enhanced Character Edit (ECE) was published on Nexus Mods, in its description claiming thus:

Fixed asymmetry head mesh for Female.

Enhanced Character Edit had not 'fixed' issue of the off-centre axis of symmetry. What it had done was make the eye socket on the right symmetrical to the one on the left in the UV map. Behold, the ECE head mesh with the vanilla game's texture.

On the left: the ECE head mesh with the vanilla textures. On the right: the vanilla head mesh with the vanilla textures, as Todd intended.

ECE needed its own textures, made for the 'symmetrical' eye socket UV. There were already existing texture sets made this way (even reflecting the same eye; I suppose people preferred the left side), so it wasn't too great a problem—ECE was providing a fix for existing mods, really!

Except, well, it's a little more complicated than that. You can change the mesh, and the textures along with it, which works. This only affects the player character, however—generated face data for NPCs must be regenerated or, in the case of NPC overhauls, manually changed by the user, a thing few users actually know how to do. Pretty soon, though, people were using ECE in their character creation, and then for the NPC overhauls that they put on Nexus. Skin mods were being made specifically with use of this head mesh in mind, like SG Female Textures Renewal, which actually includes ECE as a requirement for this reason.

So everything is great and we can just use ECE, right? Sure, we have to regenerate all of our NPCs' faces which requires the creation kit and a lot of time, but that's workable. Well, not quite. Some mods have mismatched diffuse maps and normal maps when it comes to eye sockets, like Tempered Skins, which has ECE's eye sockets in its diffuse, but bases its normal maps mostly off of vanilla, including keeping its asymmetry. Mods like Mature Skin don't even use the ECE sockets, which means that those textures will look wrong on NPC overhauls based on the ECE head meshes. This issue ends up happening both ways, too—users of ECE-based textures have an even worse issue when using a mismatched mesh, to the extent that Enhanced Female Head Mesh was created, a mod that solves an issue that isn't in the base game. The ECE sockets are that ubiquitous.

Credit to DomainWolf. A comparison image from the mod Enhanced Female Head Mesh, showing the issue that ECE-based textures have when using the vanilla mesh.

Incidentally, this user has also created tintmask mods. Many of the textures included in those would have to be manually edited in order for them to look right on the vanilla head mesh.

We can see that the effects of ECE's change ripple outward without ever really becoming understood by the common modder. When installing High Poly Head, users are presented with the option of Symmetrical Eyes (Female). The average user probably doesn't know what this means, let alone whether the texture that they're using is based on ECE. If they choose the wrong option, many won't think to go back to the FOMOD. ECE itself has been far surpassed in popularity by RaceMenu on SSE—how many people would think to install it for its head mesh alone? Even Enhanced Female Head Mesh, which is specifically mesh-only and for SSE has only ~25 k downloads as of writing. Popular skin mods with symmetrical eye sockets have millions.

This whole thing impacts almost all modders. Most of them know barely anything about it. So, this stubborn ass who refuses to use the 'fixed' eyes and manually converts all of their NPC mods by painstakingly fixing things in NIFSkope wanted to write a post aggregating everything they knew about the subject, endeavouring to maybe improve people's awareness of it.

If you read all of this, thanks! I'm honestly surprised at how long it got. I hope you enjoyed my writing.

Hello, future me here. If you read this before this message was added, please note what I had earlier said about ECE not working on SSE was wrong. I have updated the previous sentence to reflect this information.