#i'm having trouble drawing eyes recently so ignore that

[123itsbri]

I don’t watch Jojo but I am going to request the hot green jojo girl with D2

i didn't know what hot green jojo girl you were talking about so i drew the whole polycule

[just-a-ghost00]

Do you know them? What do they admire about you? (possibly 18+)

This is part 2 of the secret admirer PAC. To check part 1, click here. You can either choose the same group as for the first part or choose another. It's completely up to you. For the first question, I will only be drawing one card to get a simple yes or no answer.

Group 1

Do you know them ? - The Star

That's a yes. You possibly interact with this person online and/or they live at a distance from you. They could have Aquarius influence in their chart.

What do they admire about you ? - 2 of pentacles, ace of cups, 9 of pentacles, page of pentacles

They admire your youthfulness and your giving nature. They like that you try to remain impartial and never judge a book based on its cover. They like your independent thinking but also your independance in general. You work very well on your own and you're not needy, which they value. You can think for yourself. They like your analytical mind, your curiosity and your ability to learn in any circumstance. They like how honest you can be about your feelings, your experience and difficulties. You wear your heart on your sleeve and are easy to be around. You're very laid back which gives them space and security. You make them feel safe and cared for. They like your enthusiasm and openness to life. You have a good balance and your heart is pure. They admire how you're always in a good mood and seeing the glass half full. This gives me Dean/Castiel dynamic vibes. In this person's eyes, you are a Castiel.

Song : (You're the) Devil in disguise - Elvis

Group 2

Do you know them? - Knight of pentacles

That's also a yes for you. You either know them through work or your studies. This person could be an earth sign. They like horses. They may have recently made an offer or given you a gift. They walk slowly.

What do they admire about you? - 5 of pentacles, 8 of cups, 3 of swords, 2 of cups

Okay this may be a bit weird but they like your clinginess and also when you complain to them about things that upset you. They admire your ability to ignore what doesn't serve you or would only bring you down. They admire that you're still standing strong despite all that you've been through. They admire your kindness and ability to connect with all people, to love them unconditionally. They like when you ask them for help or rely on them when you're feeling down. They like to see you sad. They think you're beautiful when in pain or crying. This may be a little triggering, I'm sorry. They like that you also don't deny your help and guidance to people in need. You're a good samaritan. You can't say no. They admire your resilience. Also your ability to know when to give up or to delegate. Your ability to rely on your peers or know who to find when in trouble. They like your moodiness and your bad temper. They like to see you upset. It's entertaining to them. They admire the emotional responses they can get from you because it's something they fail to understand or are unfamiliar with. This energy is rather disturbing. This gives me Crowley/Aziraphale dynamic vibes. In this person's eyes, you're an Aziraphale.

Song : I wish I didn't love you so - Betty Hutton

Group 3

Do you know them? - 10 of wands

You don't know them on a personal level. You are aware of their existence but it would be very hard for you to figure out who they are. You wouldn't suspect this person to admire you. You know them either from a time of your life when you were in trouble or through a common responsibility you share. So this could be worked related, but not just that.

What do they admire about you? - 9 of wands, 8 of swords, knight of swords, 7 of cups

They admire your ability to get out of any situation and slither your way through obstacles and people's BS. They admire your feisty nature and your honesty. They think you are brave. They admire how you always keep your options open and stay alert, ready to strike at any given moment. How you never stay stuck in one spot. This person would like to tie you down so they can pick your brain apart. You're a mistery to them. This gives me Will Graham/Hannibal dynamic vibes. In this person's eyes, you're a Will Graham. Constantly thinking, constantly moving, unstoppable, impossible to get a hold of or manipulate. Hard to read. Always one step ahead. Too clever for this world. They admire how stubborn and reckless you can be at times. You're unpredictable and never boring.

Song : Eye of the tiger - Survivor

[donniesgirlie]

Another Donnie fic?? Yes, and? Peep the user then say smth😤

(I needed a word for sleep that started with a "k," so I used what Google said was British slang for "sleep" - kip.)

Kisses and Kips: Donatello x F! Reader

.

"Donnieeeeee~" You pull at the side of the doorframe, swinging yourself in and out of the lab as you draw out his name.

He had told you he'd join you in bed an hour ago under the guise of "5 more minutes." You get why he is working so hard, you do. With the recent uptick of Footclan activity, he needed to get the truck up and running again as soon as possible, but goddamn it- you just want to cuddle your boyfriend. You don't think it's too big of an ask, especially considering he's been working on that damn gadget for 3 days now with little to no breaks.

With a sigh and light shake of his head, Donnie sets down his soldering iron. "Yes, sweetie?"

You can hear the edge to his voice, strained from disuse and tilted with frustration. He slips his glasses off to pinch between his eyes, exhaustion clear on his face.

"Come to bed?" No point beating around the bush.

He slips his glasses back on and swivels back to his work.

"I can't. I need to finish this."

You let go of the frame and walk over to him. "You've been up over 48 hours, you're clearly exhausted, and you should rest - even if just for a few hours."

"Y/n, I'm perfectly capable of determining what I do or don't need. Just go to bed, I'll be there soon." You know he's not upset with you, just that the truck is giving him so much trouble, so you ignore his tone.

"You said that last night. And the night before." You accuse.

He doesn't answer. He just furrows his brow and hunches over the circut board even more.

You place your hands on his shoulders, lightly massaging as you lean down to pepper kisses along his neck. If he doesn't want to take care of himself, then you just have to play dirty.

You feel him freeze under you, the soft sizzling of metal stopping abruptly.

"Please come to bed?" You pout, nuzzling your face into him. "I miss you..."

You can feel more than hear the sharp stutter of his breath as his head slightly turns toward you.

Not quite there, yet, then. You drag your hands to his chest, gently tracing along his plastron as you press yourself further into his shell.

He places the soldering iron down.

"Donnie," you whisper, pressing a kiss to the underside of his jaw. "Please sleep with me?"

He chokes back a stutter at your choice of words, skin heating under your touch. Donatello heaves out a breath before beginning to switch everything off and put it in its place.

"Fine- fine! You win." He mumbles.

You release your hold on him as he stands, easily towering over you as he turns to offer you his hand. "Let's go to bed."

You return his exasperated smile as you take it, pulling him out of the lab and through the lair to his room. Donnie lets out a snorted laugh at your enthusiasm.

"What?" You laugh with him. "I missed my boyfriend."

Once you're in his room, Donnie all but tackles you, turning mid-air so you land on top of him on his bed. He groans deep in his chest as soon as he hits the plush mattress, sleep deprivation finally catching up with him as he finally faces what he's been missing for the last 72 hours. His arms wrap around you, pulling you tight against him as he buries his face in your hair.

"I missed you too, baby." He presses a kiss on the crown of your head before reaching to turn the light off. "Goodnight, sweetheart."

[nameless-ken]

Silent Confessions, Loud Masks - Billy Hargrove x Reader Series

I'm so excited about my brand new series! Not going to lie this first chapter was difficult for me to write. I have a serious battle with the dreaded delete button!

Anyways, hope you all enjoy this first chapter. It truly means a lot to me how excited you have been for this series <3 Comment below to be added to the taglist.

(Please reblog!!!)

Happy reading!

Word Count: 4.3K

Warnings: mostly angst with some slight rude remarks/bullying

Introduction to the series here!

Masterlist

(had this song in my head while writing this chapter)

In the tumultuous whirlwind of your teenage existence, embarking on your final year of high school, you've recently become aware of a singular truth: put full trust into the future that stretches far beyond the grasp of your present moment. Amidst the unexpected certainties that await, there's one you never anticipated – Billy Hargrove.

Billy reigns as the new king of Hawkins High, his “coronation” following the departure of Steve "The Hair" Harrington. He embodies the archetype of a manic attention-seeker, parading through the halls with a rotating carousel of girls, each week presenting a fresh face to the crowded hallways. It's a spectacle that leaves you utterly perplexed, unable to fathom the allure that draws countless girls into his orbit, only to be summarily discarded days later.

Thankfully, you've managed to maintain a safe distance from Billy and his band of lunatics, skillfully navigating the school corridors to avoid any unwanted encounters. While you share a few classes with his entourage, you've strategically positioned yourself in the front row, creating a buffer zone that shields you from their antics.

However, fate has a penchant for upheaval, as evidenced by your first detention – a consequence of arriving late to homeroom on three separate occasions. As you begrudgingly endure the mind-numbing 30-minute sentence after school, Robin, your loquacious best friend, offers her trademark blend of sympathy and sarcasm.

“They seriously gave you a detention for that? Couldn’t you pull the ‘I’m a straight A student who has never gotten in trouble before, please help dear little me this one time’ on them?” 

“Sadly no. I definitely tried to get out of it but they’ve been cracking down on a bunch of seniors for a couple weeks now.” 

“I'll wait up for you after band practice.” Robin slams her locker shut. 

“Thanks. See you later.” You turn to go down the opposite hallway than her. 

“Have fun troublemaker.” Robin pokes fun at your new “status” and you give her the finger back jokingly before you both wave and disappear down your own paths.

With a sigh, you resign yourself to the monotony of detention, selecting a seat near the window to alleviate the stifling atmosphere of confinement. The rules plastered on the board, NO FOOD. NO TALKING. STAY IN YOUR SEAT, serve as a constant reminder of the school’s misguided attempts at discipline.

You roll your eyes at the obnoxious nature of this situation. Why do schools think detention is ever going to work? You are put in a room for a certain amount of time with other delinquents. If anything you’re setting up a scenario for more trouble to happen. 

You pull out the current book you're reading, ignoring all the rest of the students who walk in. 

“Alright, welcome to detention. I have quite a lot of work to finish so I will be checking in periodically. When it’s your time to leave per your detention slip, come see me in my classroom and I’ll sign you out. Please respect the rules.” Mr. Thomson, the junior science teacher turned detention overseer, delivers a perfunctory address before retreating to his sanctuary, leaving the delinquent assembly to their own devices. 

Amidst the murmurs of discontent, Billy's name resonates like a discordant note, signaling the unwelcome intrusion of Hawkins High's reigning sovereign.

“Are we gonna flake out again Billy?” It didn’t even cross your mind about the possibility of being stuck in the same room as him.

“Can’t. I’ve skipped so many that they want to try and expel me.” 

“That'd be hardcore to see.” 

“Not to my dad it wouldn’t. Besides, it's not that bad. We have quite the sight sitting up there in the left corner today.” 

As Billy and his cohorts encroach upon your solitude, you bury your nose in your book in a feeble attempt to shield yourself from their presence. 

“Let’s have some fun.” You turn another page as footsteps echo towards you, stopping in front of your occupance. “I don’t believe we’ve ever met.” 

You don’t give him the time of day in reality but in your head, you’re fighting with the embarrassment and attention he’s solely giving you right now. Billy's charisma knows no bounds, his toothy grin and smug demeanor penetrate your defenses with effortless ease.

“I’m Billy but you may already know that. What’s your name, little mouse?” Billy rests his hands face down on your desk, leaning in so his face is parallel with yours. 

“Such a quiet thing.” Ignoring his advances proves to be an exercise in futility as Billy's persistent pestering chips away at your resolve, culminating in a daring theft of your cherished book. Yet, you refuse to grant him the satisfaction of a response, maintaining a stoic facade despite the numerous emotions raging beneath the surface.

“It’s always the quiet ones you have to look out for.” His friend to the right chimes in. 

“There’s some ways I can think of to change that.” You look up, narrow eyes meeting Billy’s. He sends you a wink with his usual smirk resting on his face. 

“Not going to say anything?” You can feel your heart racing, hating the way he’s making you feel, more annoying that he’s causing any kind of reaction from you. 

The sudden arrival of Mr. Thomson offers a reprieve from Billy's relentless pursuit. 

“Y/N, you’re free to go.” He grants you an opportunity to escape the confines of Billy's gaze. As you hastily gather your belongings and make your exit, Billy's parting words linger in the air as he whispers close to your ear, “See you around little mouse.” 

Feeling like you could breathe again, you're greeted by a note from Robin stuck to your locker.

I got called into work :( Call me later - Robin

You groan inwardly, the frustration of detention compounded by the looming task of finding a new ride home. Billy and his entourage have succeeded in tainting what was already shaping up to be a less-than-ideal day. You trudge outside, seeking solace in the cool breeze that sweeps through the schoolyard.

The pleasant Indiana weather offers a small comfort, prompting you to forgo the immediate need for a ride and opt instead for a beautiful stroll to clear your mind. As you walk, you reach into your bag and retrieve your trusty cassette player, the familiar weight of it grounding you in the midst of chaos running through your mind. You mentally curse Billy for crowding every corner of your mind. 

With a deft motion, you slipbthe cassette into the player, the soft click of the mechanism soothing in its familiarity. The strains of your favorite mix fill the air, providing a welcome distraction from the events of the day.

Lost in the music, you barely notice the passing cars, each one a blur against the backdrop of your thoughts. That is, until a certain familiar shade of blue catches your eye, the sudden halt of the vehicle drawing your attention like a magnet.

You turn, locking eyes with Billy as he idles beside you, his presence an unwelcome intrusion on your solitary walk. His voice cuts through the quiet, laced with an air of amusement that irritates your nerves.

“Didn’t think we’d meet again this soon little mouse.” he remarks, his smirk evident even from the confines of his car.

You pause your tape, the rhythmic pulse of the music abruptly silenced as you face him, a mix of irritation and annoyance evident in your expression.

"What do you want, Billy?" you questione, the weariness of the day showing in your voice.

He chuckles, the sound grating on your nerves as he leanes casually against the driver's side door, his gaze fixed on you with an unsettling intensity.

"She speaks!" he exclaims, his laughter ringing out in the quiet of the street. "Need a ride somewhere?"

You bristle at the suggestion, your resolve hardening as you met his gaze with a steely glare.

"Not from you," you retort, tone firm and uncompromising.

“Oh come on, I won’t bite. Unless you want me to.” You rolle your eyes at his innuendo, a flush rising in your cheeks as you resist the urge to give in to his persistent advances.

"I don’t need your help, Billy.”

He relents, his expression shifting to one of mock innocence as he reaches over to open the passenger door, a silent invitation hanging in the air between you.

"Come on, little mouse," he urges, his tone surprisingly gentle. "Just this one time."

You hesitate, torn between pride and practicality, before ultimately capitulating to the inevitable. You step into the car, the door closing with a soft click behind you as you buckle yourself in.

"No speeding," you warn, your voice firm as Billy complies with a laugh, the car pulling away from the curb at a reasonable pace.

As you settle into the seat, a strange sense of calm washes over you, the tension of the day slowly dissipating in the confines of the car. Despite your reservations, there was an undeniable comfort in Billy's presence, a realization that both puzzles and unnerves you in equal measure.

“So are you going to tell me where you live or am I bringing you back to my house?” 

“I live near Curly. By that trailer park.” 

“Thought you lived more in the pristine area of the Wheelers and Harringtons.” 

“Well you thought wrong.” 

As Billy maneuveres through the streets, you couldn't shake the feeling of discomfort mixed with a strange intrigue. You steal glances at him, his confident demeanor and reckless charm contrasting sharply with your own cautious nature.

"Why'd you get detention anyway?" Billy's question broke the silence, his eyes briefly leaving the road to meet yours.

"Too many tardies to homeroom," you reply, keeping your answers short.

"That's it? Seems a bit harsh," he remarks, his tone genuinely curious.

You shrug, not wanting to delve into the details of your run-in with authority.

As the familiar landmarks of Hawkins pass by in a blur, you couldn't help but wonder what lay ahead, the uncertainty of the future looming large on the horizon. You couldn’t help but think if this would be the last time Billy would go out of his way to acknowledge you. 

Navigating the familiar streets of Hawkins alongside Billy, you're acutely aware of the palpable tension that simmers between you, a potent cocktail of unease but also lingering with intrigue. Though you strive to maintain a facade of indifference, the magnetic pull of Billy's presence proves undeniable, stirring emotions you've long sought to suppress.

You’re thankful the remainder of the drive passes by in a relative quiet, punctuated only by the loud rock n roll blasting from the radio. When you finally reach your destination, you find yourself hesitating before getting out of the car.

"Thanks for the ride," you say, surprising yourself with the sincerity in your voice.

Billy grins, a glint of mischief in his eyes. "Anytime, little mouse."

With that, you step out onto the sidewalk, watching as Billy drives off into the distance. As you make your way towards your house, you couldn't shake the feeling that this chance encounter with Billy Hargrove was just the beginning of something you couldn't quite put your finger on.

Little did you know, the lines between your world and the world of Hawkins' resident bad boy were about to blur in ways you never imagined possible.

The following day, you find yourself once again navigating the familiar halls of Hawkins High, the events of the previous day still fresh in your mind. As you settle into your seat in English class, you can’t seem to shake the lingering sense of unease that accompanies your newfound proximity to Billy Hargrove.

It’s the most infuriating feeling and you hate yourself for allowing him to overtake your waking thoughts all throughout your night and morning. 

The classroom buzzes with the usual chatter of students, the mundane rhythm of academic life marching on despite the turmoil brewing beneath the surface. As the bell rang, signaling the start of class, Ms. Paterson enters the room with her characteristic air of authority, a stack of papers in hand.

"Good morning, class," she greets as she makes her way to the front of the room. "Today, we'll be embarking on a new project that will count towards a significant portion of your grade for this year."

A collective groan echoes through the room at the mention of yet another assignment, but Ms. Paterson pays it no mind.

"As part of this project, you'll be working in pairs to research and present on a book report of your choosing," she announces, her gaze sweeping over the room as she distributed the assignment sheets. "I'll be assigning partners randomly, so I expect everyone to work together cooperatively."

Everyone exchanges a wary glance around the classroom, the prospect of being paired with someone like Billy Hargrove looming ominously in the air. As Ms, Paterson began calling out pairs, you held your breath, bracing yourself for the inevitable.

"Y/N, you'll be paired with... Billy Hargrove.”

You felt a sinking sensation in the pit of your stomach as Billy's name reverberated through the classroom, the weight of his presence suddenly suffocating in its proximity. You glance in his direction, meeting his gaze with a mixture of apprehension and resignation.

Billy, for his part, seemingly unfazed by the news, his trademark smirk firmly in place as he turned to face you with a glint of mischief in his eyes.

As the final bell rang, signaling the end of class, you found yourself hesitating by your desk, unsure of how to broach the subject of the upcoming project with your enigmatic partner.

Billy saunters over to your desk with his characteristic swagger, a smirk playing at the corners of his lips.

"Well, looks like we're partners, little mouse" he remarks, his tone laced with amusement as he leans against the edge of your desk.

You fight to suppress the urge to roll your eyes at his cavalier attitude, instead meeting his gaze with a steely determination of your own.

"Yeah, looks like it," you reply as you gather your belongings.

Billy's smirk widens at your response, his gaze lingers on you with a mixture of curiosity and something else you couldn't quite decipher.

"So, partner," he begins falling into step beside you as you both maneuver out of the classroom. "Where do you wanna meet up?"

You pause, considering your options carefully before responding. The thought of inviting Billy into your home sent a shiver of apprehension down your spine, but meeting up at his place didn't seem much better.

"How about we meet at the library?" you suggest, the words tumbling out before you could second-guess yourself. "It's neutral ground, and we'll have access to all the resources we need."

Billy raises an eyebrow at your suggestion, his smirk morphing into a grin of approval.

"Works for me," he nonchalantly responds. His tone surprises you at how agreeable it is and non combative about trying to get you into his bedroom. 

"4 pm. Don’t be late. I will not be waiting on you." You demand. 

“See you then, little mouse.” He winks, walking in the opposite direction. You groan internally at the use of that nickname he’s decided to give you. This is going to be a long year. 

As you and Robin sat on the bleachers in the gym during lunchtime, the rhythmic thud of basketballs hitting the court filled the air, punctuated by the occasional cheer from the squad as they practice their routines. Your eyes involuntarily flicker towards the court, where Billy’s shirtless form glistens with sweat under the fluorescent lights of the gym, his green gym shorts leaving little to the imagination as he moves with fluid grace among his teammates.

Robin's incredulous tone breaks through your reverie, snapping you back to reality.

"Wait, you got paired up with Billy for a project?" Robin exclaims, her disbelief palpable as she tore her gaze away from the court to focus on you.

You couldn't help but chuckle at her reaction, the absurdity of the situation not lost on either of you.

"Yeah, tell me about it," you respond, taking a bite of your sandwich as you try to mask the unease that churns in your stomach. "I have no idea how I'm going to survive working with him for the rest of the year."

Caught in a moment of distraction, your eyes lock with Billy's across the expanse of the gym. Time comes to a stand still leaving only the two of you in a silent battle of uncertainty. For a fleeting moment, you found yourself captivated by the intensity of his gaze, the depths of his eyes holding a tantalizing promise of something unknown. It was a gaze that spoke volumes, conveying a myriad of emotions that stirs something deep and unexpected within you.

As if sensing the weight of your scrutiny, Billy's lips quirk into a knowing smirk, his eyes dancing with mischief as he holds your gaze with unwavering confidence. Before you could fully process the significance of the moment, the spell breaks as Billy turns his attention back to the game, seamlessly blending into the rhythm of the practice session as if the moment didn’t just happen. 

You tear your gaze away, a flush of embarrassment coloring your cheeks as you focus once more on your conversation with Robin. But despite your best efforts to dismiss the encounter, the feeling of Billy's piercing gaze lingers in the back of your mind, a silent reminder of the unexpected allure of the boy who has unwittingly become a sudden constant in your life now.  

Robin offers words of encouragement, her unwavering support a welcome balm to your frazzled nerves.

"Don't worry, Y/N," her voice a beacon of optimism in the darkness. "You're strong enough to handle anything that comes your way. Besides, who knows? Maybe working with Billy will be...interesting."

You couldn't suppress a snort of disbelief at her suggestion, the image of Billy's smug smirk and cocky attitude flashing through your mind.

"Yeah, interesting is one word for it," you remark dryly, a wry smile tugging at the corners of your lips. "Let's just hope I survive long enough to at least be there for graduation."

The town library stands as a quiet sanctuary amidst the bustling small town streets of Hawkins, its walls lined with rows upon rows of books that hold the promise of knowledge and adventure. As you step through the entrance, the familiar scent of old paper and ink washes over you, wrapping you in a comforting embrace as you sought out a secluded corner to await Billy's arrival.

Minutes tick by, each second stretching into an annoying eternity as you scan the quiet aisles for any sign of your partner. Just as you begin to resign yourself to the possibility of being stood up, a figure appears in the doorway, his presence commanding attention as he makes his way towards you with purposeful strides.

"Sorry I'm late," Billy greets, his tone apologetic as he approaches, a faint crease of worry marrying his brow. "Had to drop off my step-sister at home."

You nod understandingly, "No worries," offering him a reassuring smile as you gesture towards the table. "Let's get started."

Billy's expression softens at your words, a hint of gratitude shining in his eyes as you don’t try to pry. For a moment, the weight of his troubles seem to lift from his shoulders, replaced by a sense of camaraderie as you delve into the task at hand.

As you and Billy sift through the titles of various books, searching for the perfect one to base your project on, the atmosphere between you remains comfortably casual, the initial awkwardness of your partnership gradually melting away.

"So, any preferences on which book we should choose?" you ask, breaking the silence that has settled over the table.

"Not really," he replies with a casual shrug, his gaze flicking between the book covers with mild interest. "I'm good with whatever you want."

“Do you have a favorite book?”

“I don’t think I’ve ever really finished one before.” Billy admits. 

“That’s quite sad to hear. What do you even do for fun?” 

“You think this is fun? Holding old pieces of paper about fake people and worlds. Seems like a waste of time to me.” 

You raise an eyebrow at Billy's dismissive remark, a hint of amusement tugging at the corners of your lips.

"Well, not everyone finds joy in reading, I suppose," you remark lightly, trying to keep the conversation lighthearted despite the underlying tension between you. "But there's something magical about getting lost in a good book, don't you think?"

Billy shrugs, his expression guarded as he leans back in his chair, his gaze fixes on the bookshelves before him.

"I guess," he replies with a noncommittal shrug, his tone tinged with a hint of defensiveness. "I've just never really seen the appeal, you know?"

You nod in understanding, sensing the reluctance in his voice as he skirts around the topic of his own interests.

"Well, what about movies or music?" you press, eager to draw him out of his shell and uncover the layers of complexity that lie beneath his tough exterior. "Surely there must be something you enjoy doing in your free time."

Billy hesitates for a moment, his features softening slightly as he considers your question.

"I don't know, I guess I like playing basketball," he admits, a faint glimmer of enthusiasm shining in his eyes. "And...uh, sometimes I'll mess around with drawing when I'm bored."

You smile at his admission, a flicker of curiosity igniting within you as you get to witness a glimpse of the person behind the tough facade.

"That's cool," you reply, genuine warmth coloring your voice as you lean in closer, the distance between you suddenly feeling much smaller. "I didn't know you drew. Maybe you could show me some another time?"

"Yeah, maybe," Billy replies, his tone gruff and defensive, a faint edge of defiance creeping back into his voice. "But don't get your hopes up. It’s not that great"

You sense the walls he's built around himself, the layers of protection he's carefully constructed to shield himself from vulnerability. But beneath the tough exterior, you know there’s something raw and real, a flicker of longing that hints at the depth of his hidden desires.

"That's okay," you reassure him with a smile, your voice gentle as you reach out to bridge the gap between you. "We all have to start somewhere, right?"

"Yeah," he murmurs softly, a rare vulnerability creeping into his voice. "Yeah, I guess you're right."

“So, what about you, little mouse? Any other hobbies besides reading old stories?” A spark of enthusiasm ignites within you, quite surprised at his continuing of the conversation. 

"Yeah, actually," you begin, a smile spreading across your face as you lean forward, excitement bubbling within you. "I love photography. There's just something about capturing moments and memories with people and things I love that feels so special. I don’t know, I mostly do it for fun."

A mischievous glint sparks in Billy’s eyes as he leans in closer, his voice low and teasing. " I guess I'll have to watch out for those sneaky snapshots next time."

You can't help but roll your eyes at his playful banter, the Billy everyone around Hawkins knows showing back up. 

"Please," you retort with a playful scoff, feigning indifference as you brush off his teasing with a wave of your hand. "Like you're worth wasting film on."

Billy chuckles at your response, a grin spreading across his face as he leans back in his chair, his gaze lingering on you with amusement.

"Ouch, that hurts, little mouse," he replies with mock indignation, his tone light and playful despite the underlying tension between you. "But hey, don't worry. I'll make sure to give you my best angle next time."

"Keep dreaming, Hargrove," you retort, a flicker of annoyance flashing in your eyes as you notice Billy building those tough walls back up, leaving you to the same mysteries as the rest of the town. 

As the conversation fizzles out, you can't shake the feeling of disappointment lingering in the air. Despite the brief moment of connection, it seems that Billy's walls are too high to breach, leaving you with a sense of frustration at the missed opportunity for genuine connection. You can't help but wonder about the masks he wears so loudly, each one a cacophony of distractions meant to hide the vulnerability beneath. With a resigned sigh, you turn back to the task at hand, burying your disappointment as you focus on finding the perfect book not without stealing another glance at Billy as he picks up one of the books and rifles through the pages. 

If these past two days have shown you anything, it’s how little time it takes for a stranger to become a big part of your life. It's unsettling how quickly he's managed to weave himself into the fabric of your daily existence with a persistence that both frustrates and intrigues you. You've always valued your privacy, cherished the solitude of your inner sanctuary, but now, in the wake of Billy's arrival, you find yourself craving his attention in a way you never thought possible. 

Perhaps the greatest risk is not in letting someone new in, but in closing yourself off to the possibility of genuine connection. And even with the knowledge of Billy having a tangled labyrinth for a heart, perhaps he’s worth the risk after all.

Taglist: @msbillyhargrove @uselessbutinteresting @milestellergfs @periwinkle-quill @ghostcastaway

[galeorderbride]

Hiii!!

I discovered your account recently, and I'm a fan! This strengthens my love for Gale even more! I have a request, is it possible to use the following prompts :

3)Touching foreheads

7) Kissing scars

11)Sharing secrets

41)Washing each other hairs

52)Crying into their shoulder

60) sitting in their lap

i will probably ask for others prompt later ahah!

thanks you so much 🖤

Thank you for the request!! I’m stoked to know I’ve helped strengthen your love for everyone’s favourite rizzard lol. And send as many prompts as you like!

Your prompt awaits:

Rated: M (Gale and Tav sharing a bath, non descriptive nudity).

Gale x F!tav

Words: 1652

...

Wash my Troubles Away

Baths were always the way Tav chose to unwind after a stressful day. Before the nautiloid, and after, although she’d been seriously lacking in access. In all honesty, she was surprised it took this long for her to break down. Months on the road, toiling through endless swaths of blood, shit and tears with the onus on them to solve everyone’s problems. At first, Tav enjoyed helping, seeing new friends suffer a little bit less in such a difficult society. Once they reached Rivington, however, her patience ran drier than a dead fountain. 

Thankfully, they found the Elfsong, where a private bathroom awaited. As soon as the fee was paid, Tav thought about taking a bath—craved it. A space to calm her muscles and cry out her troubles without drawing attention. 

Hot water flowed against her naked back, bubbling with lavender oil and sudsy soap, emanating the scent of vanilla and oat. Tav tucked her legs to her chest, curling into a ball of frustration and embarrassment as she couldn’t stop crying. Tav needed more resilience than this. Facing the end of the world required stalwart bravery, and she was having a meltdown over finding gold for a bank manager. How in the hells was she supposed to take down a giant brain? 

Meanwhile, everyone else had no problem being selfish. A toy maker set explosives in his own products, totally willing to kill children to save his own skin. Idiots tying up Volo just because he was talking about the things they wanted to ignore. Ironhand gnomes masking abusive bigotry with a shining cause. Tav was tired of everyone’s bullshit, making excuses for themselves, taking zero responsibility when she had no other option but to face problems head on. 

Her self pity was interrupted by a knock at the bathroom door. The sound of a lilted, erudite voice coming through the wood: 

“Mind if I come in, love?” 

Gale appeared in the doorway after Tav agreed he could enter. Holding fresh towels and a wicker basket of different bath products, looking brand new as if he’d just returned from an apothecary. Tav splashed water in her face to mask the puffiness of her eyes, as if her detail oriented wizard would ever let a thing like that get past him. 

“You seem like you could use some company. And so far, I’ve been very skilled and…calming you down, so to speak. I fetched some products from Bonecloak’s, all your favourite scents. Jasmine, pomegranate, aloe vera. If you’d prefer to be alone, know you won’t offend me. I just wanted to give you these so you know someone is thinking about you,” he said. 

Tav turned her head, grinning as best she could, easier because of his presence. Since their romance had begun, he was the only one virtually incapable of annoying her. He always knew what to say, always understood the right words or actions to keep her grounded. No one had been such a positive force in her life, and every morning, no matter how terrible, she thanked the stars for finding that unstable portal. 

“I’m not enviable company at the moment, but yours, would surely heal my weary heart,” Tav replied. 

Gale smiled, “No matter how you’re feeling, there is no one in the realms I’d rather spend my time with.” 

Times like this were when Tav didn’t believe she deserved his sweetness. Doting on her out of an adoration she couldn’t figure out. He placed the bottles on a tiny stool beside the tub, undressing so he could join her in a warm, sudsy water, snapping his fingers with a little magic to heat it back to ideal temperature. He made use of the large, circular space as he sunk in behind her, enveloping her in a comforting embrace as she rested her back onto his chest. Little hairs tickled her skin, causing her to chuckle for the first time all day. 

Careful movements of his fingertips massaging her scalp sent shivers down Tav’s spine. Scents of pomegranate and jasmine soothed her sinuses, letting the hot water pour down her head, through strands of clean hair. Tension from her muscles seemed to dissolve with each considerate touch, Gale’s hands created to caress her skin. When he finished, he wrapped his arms around her, rocking her back and forth as they both watched the window ahead. A clear night gifted them glimmering stars, a cool breeze whistling out of a crack in the insulation. Tav leaned back, resting her head in the crux of Gale’s shoulder as she closed her eyes. A few, stray tears fell from her eyes, overwhelmed by the sudden comfort of her magical lover lifting her through the ache of evening. 

Gale didn’t press her for reasons, didn’t rush to solve the problem when he noticed her tears. He just held her, waited in solidarity until she was ready, happy to let her sink into his life force to refresh her own. 

“I’m sorry,” she finally said with a tearful chuckle, “You must think I’m ridiculous. Crying for no reason like this.” 

“Well, my love, your mind may be telling you that there is no reason, but that doesn’t mean it’s true. With all our travels, all the weight on your shoulders, you have every reason to cry. You’re more resilient than you think, I’d have crumbled long ago,” he said. 

Tav looked up at him, in utter admiration for his thoughtfulness, his beauty, everything. If she could, she’d sing his praises for a thousand years, to make up for all the times Mystra never did. Or anyone else who didn’t care to see the magnificence of him. 

Her fingers traced up his collarbone, around the mark the orb left that paved a path to his wonderful neck. A forced tattoo sunk into the surface of his skin, binding him to his well intentioned folly. Their foreheads touched as Gale lowered his head, wishing desperately that he could hold every

 part of her at the same time. Mage hands and mirror images weren’t enough, it had to be him. 

“Can I tell you something I’ve never told anyone before?” He asked, words hanging on between their breaths, lips hovering over each other but never quite meeting. 

“Hmm, you’ve already told me about Mystra. And that you haven't spoken to anyone in over a year until me. Oh, and that you get excited when you see me bloody after a fight. What else could there possibly be?” She asked, flirtatiously smiling at him with her eyelids batting just the way he liked. The smirk he made when he saw it was irresistible. 

Gale chuckled, “This one is far less serious, but might be what you need to hear in this moment.” 

They adjusted slightly, Gale sitting up as he pulled his arm out of the water. Just above his elbow was a superficial scar, raised tissue blending in with the rest of his skin. An uneven line travelling up his arm, about three inches long. Wherever he got it from, it had to be years ago. 

“People don’t notice this scar much anymore, not with the giant black circle on my chest. But people used to. I’d tell them it was from a kitchen knife,” he said, “But…really I accidentally set fire to my neighbour’s rose bushes when I was a child. I was trying to conjure, and the fire got away from me. Singed my arm in the process.” 

Tav turned, scooching further onto his lap as she examined his arm. She couldn’t help but laugh, “That’s your secret? Ruining a bush?” 

“Not just any bush. A rose bush. One of the most beautiful I’d ever seen. I’d pass by those roses every day, stare at them for a minute or two. Just to see something be so effortlessly perfect in its imperfection. They simply grew that way, and then I destroyed them. All I could do was cry, sob over how I tarnished something so innocent and pretty for my own sake. I don’t talk about it because…well, it’s silly, but it’s the worst thing I’ve ever felt. It’s stayed with me my entire life, and the burn scar only serves as a beacon for it,” he explained. 

“Even worse than what happened with Mystra?” She asked, grazing her fingertips across the uneven line of the scar. Eyes stuck to the mark as if it was the last thing she’d ever see. 

Gale hesitated, taking a heart wrenching pause. Tav noticed his eyes staring ahead, fixated on the window. A heavy, unsaid energy hung over him.  

“It was the catalyst. For everything. Had I not set fire to that bush, Elminster never would’ve found me. And then I’d never have attracted Mystra’s attention. A boring existence…but maybe a better one,” he said, voice trailing along the waves of his melancholic thoughts. 

Instead of responding, giving him a treatise on how he didn’t need to feel guilty anymore and burning a flower bush wasn’t a definer of his total character, she pressed her lips against the burn scar. Counting her kisses for every year of remorse he felt since setting that fire ball. Ever since their first night together, he slowly began to shed that overconfident veneer, more comfortable to show her the parts of him that hurt, the deep cuts that both of them wished they could bury. 

“Seems we both have a guilt problem,” Tav said. “Come here.” 

Tav moved to straddle his lap, taking the ceramic bowl and filling it with the warm, soapy water. Gale rested on her shoulder, as if on impulse, while she poured the liquid down the long strands of chestnut hair. Running her shampooed hands across his scalp, satisfied every time she heard his happy moans against the scratch of her nails. After rinsing, she kissed the top of his head. 

“Thank you for telling me a secret,” she said, “I’ll tell you one of mine tomorrow.”

[yandere-yearnings]

DAR TELL MY BABYGIRL SUN I MISS HIM

ANYTHING FOR YOU AYA😩💕

The weather had been tumultuous as of recent. It had been so uncharacteristically hot and humid during the days, only for the nights to be riddled with rain and thunderstorms. Guidance was suggesting that people stay indoors for the time being, so it meant Sun hadn't seen you in a while, since you were insistent on exercising caution. He could care less about what the local council had to say, a lack of you would kill Sun before the atmospheric conditions did, he was sure.

Returning to the drawing room from the kitchen, he sprawled himself out across the sofa. No guests to entertain, just himself and the jasmine tea swirling in the pretty glass cup you'd gifted him some time ago. Curtains drawn and fire crackling in the hearth that he'd kept just for the sake of it; his limbs were hanging, neck pressed over the arm and looking down at the ugly patterns on the rug below. He needed to redesign the entire place. He had wanted to do it with you.

A flash of light peaked through velvet, a blinding introduction for the crackle of lighting that came next. From his peripheral, Sun noticed a shadow forming on the wall, and the warmth of the flames suddenly felt dull. Turning his head towards the disturbance, he could only sigh in thinly veiled anger. He really wasn't in the mood for anything since you weren't around.

"Dar." He narrowed his eyes. "Go away."

"Personally," the new figure drawled, dressed head-to-toe in a hot pink business suit that matched eyes full of mirth, "I don't think that's any way to be speaking to me. Especially not after I came all this way to deliver a message from your sweetheart."

Sun sat up abruptly. "What?"

Dar grinned. Feathers trailing where they circled the room, an undeniable itch in Sun's throat like an allergy to the curse he knew followed them. They stopped behind him, clear talon to his jugular, millimetres from piercing the skin before they were gone, settling languidly into the armchair opposite him.

"This may be surprising but, I'm more crow than dove, I'll have you know." One leg crossed over the other, it was all teeth in their smile as they clasped their hands. "You should toss me a shiny rock for my troubles."

"I'll kill you."

Laughter filled the air like the threat had been expected, Dar wiped a tear from the corner of their eye using a knuckle. "I'd like to see you try." They stood, tucking a strand of platinum behind their ear. "Really. It's an invitation."

"Will you ever change?" Sun seethed, glaring at the hand that was now gripping his shoulder.

"Probably not." A sigh escaped them. "In any case, we can skip payment this once, since you've amused me enough. I will be taking this, though," Dar picked up a letter opener from the nearby table, waved it at him, and then pocketed it.

"Can you just-"

"They said they miss you."

With that, Dar disappeared, and Sun was left flushed to the tips of his ears. His unexpected visitor was the last thing on his mind when he pulled himself to his feet seconds later, lunging for his coat and keys before running to the door.

The alert for unstable conditions on his phone went ignored.

Nothing else mattered, he was coming to you.

[ruiniel]

i think i'm too late so obvs feel free to ignore but i saw alucard smut fic and yelled so... i'm thinking outside (wherever lmao), and "I thought u were dead but you're not!" vibes? >_> (or...anything fluff/angsty alskdfj.)

While we are silent

Fandom: Castlevania series (2017-2021)

Pairing: Alucard x F!Reader

Follow up to A Place To Hide

Rating: Explicit 🔞(in Part II)

Count: 1.3k

Also on ao3

I.

You watch the crowd on this chill November night, each nursing the flicker of a candle as they follow a path toward the village cemetery. Most are bundled in thick layers of clothing, as this time of year has seen the advent of less forgiving weather, far too soon.

Removing your glove, you raise a clawed hand into the air; only to feel... if only you could feel the cold as you did before, if only it could harm you. 

Another, larger hand cups yours as it curls, bringing it down between the two of you. “What happens now?” asks Adrian.

He stands at your side, close enough that you sense his body heat, radiating off him like the memory of sun rays on skin. You crave more of it, always more, all the time, ever since… “The priest will hold the rite for those no longer among the living… and the people, their families, will tidy up the graves of their dead,” you continue in a hollow voice, remembering. You’d missed them, the chatter, humanity. “They bedeck the graves with flowers…” you say, blinking as fading candlelight reflects eerily in your eyes, “with chrysanthemums, or crowns made of evergreen leaves.”

“That sounds… beautiful, in its own way,” Adrian comments, bringing an arm around you.

You tuck yourself into him, ensuring your hood shields your face—especially your eyes. As startling as his own appearance might be, unlike him, you would swiftly give yourself away, and despite recent alliances and the fragile peace his father had forged by the strength of both vampire and human arms you’d been warned and knew it well: the base mortal fear of the unknown always prevails.

In short, you’d like to avoid any unfortunate events, if you can, and he understands this better than anyone.

“Why the candles, though?”

“It’s said they help light the way, guiding the souls of the departed to the other side.”

“The other side…” 

You glance up at him, at the expression of contemplation on his face; every feature is visible to you, despite the shroud of darkness. 

The pinpricks of light are far and smaller now, a procession of wisps wandering away.

“What?” Adrian asks with a drowsy smile, not looking your way. 

“Thank you for joining me here.”

Adrian turns to you, sensing your mood. It never left you; ever since that damned night, when you were desperate and struggling, slashing with your dagger at a face pale in the moonlight. Whenever you close your eyes, you see it—but Adrian doesn’t know. You’d declined to tell him, no matter the gentle probing once or twice, no matter the shiver in his fingers, the clawing anger turned to talons each time. The anger you should feel, but find you do not; anger at the one who took your life, who robbed you of choice. 

“What else do you wish to do? Come, this is your night.” He wears inconspicuous, plain clothing for your excursion in the nearby town, but the fine cut would still draw many a trained eye were it not for night’s shadow.

You stare after the retreating people again, then to your feet, and glance at the gauze of light flooding the dirt road from the nearby tavern. Once, you would have gone in without a second thought, to be happily ignored, and when you were yet human, Adrian by your side was a deterrent to any trouble.

But now… you clench your fist. “Why don’t we return to the castle?” Your hand glides down his chest. You reach, fingers twirling a lock of his pale hair. “I’ve had enough of study for this week…” you smile, trying to change the mood; heart unbeating, yet still, you possess the capacity to feel, and that is a blessing or an anathema depending on circumstance. “I could pose for you if you like.” A grin slips across your face, a ploy against yourself. He’s the one thread keeping you together, and you’re trying. You both are.

The war is over, but still, at times, you catch him staring into nothingness, unobserved; a shadow he does not sense if you’re careful enough until you make yourself known. He looks haunted in those moments, as though a tapestry depicting things foreign to you has been drawn before his eyes. Moments together help him, too, though every so often he still falls prey to his perceived share of guilt for your state. But etching, painting… nothing for nothing’s sake, done together, is what still seems to move him.

You will take from my warmth. Words once spoken gleam brightly in your mind as his arm slides around your waist. “... that is a fine suggestion, I’m forced to admit …” he says with a soft sigh. “... any particular ideas?”

Your forced smile feels genuine now, your body pressing closer into his, the perceived warmth of longing sparking within. “Didn’t you mention, yesterday, that you’d like…”

His eyes widen for a breath, expression swiftly melting into one of tender mischief. His touch glides through your hair, graceful along the nape of your neck. “I doubt I’ll manage more than a sketch if that is to be the case.”

You shake your head as thrill blooms—the full spectrum of human emotions and needs is still there, an unravaged cloister. It feels like a refuge, the last remaining piece of your old self, and you’re grateful for that much.

You disentangle yourself from him; together you take the path unnoticed towards the end of the human establishment, skittering and winding ahead through the forest. The nightly dark affects neither of you, no one is in sight at this hour. It’s you, and him, and the wind in the crowns of withering trees.

The stars have disappeared. The sonorous voice of the woods is mellow, with his help you’d learned to filter out all the much too loud sounds your mind had begun to perceive, and again you can be at ease, finding some enjoyment in the twigs snapping beneath your shoes as you walk. 

Somewhere along the way Adrian begins a soft banter, teasing you with hidden meanings and suggestions concerning your proposal.

“... you’re impossible,” you shake your head, and if nothing else, this, at least, feels right at last. 

“But you like me that way,” Adrian speaks in that mellow tone of his, and you’re about to say something just to feel the heat rising through him, always a delight.

You stop in your tracks, fingers tightening around his.

“... what’s wrong?” But then he feels it also; you see it in his eyes.

It must be the predator instinct he’d said would awaken and the pitched awareness it entails, as you sense the peculiar and disturbing wave of alertness, a sharpening of senses so sudden it aches. Another.

Adrian turns, eyes narrowing. “We’re not alone.”

“I know.” You each listen closely, but there is no breath no beat no warmth. 

Before you know what you’re doing, your palms are set against his chest, pushing him roughly away. Something darts between you, striking the trunk of a tree. 

You stare at the arrow even as the prickling up your spine becomes ice needles, the glimmer unmistakable: silver-tipped, the same used in the war.

Adrian is swifter than you still, but he’d not taken a weapon. And the glimmering pairs of eyes staring at you from the shadows come nearer, behind you—before you. Adrian’s voice fades from your hearing.

“... Vampires; hostile.”

“Finally,” one speaks, and your teeth gnash at the voice even as Adrian’s warmth meets you where you stand, back to back. The utterance is pain.

“... the prince—”

Dread awakens unmatched but for the bite that made you, burning like hot coal pressed to skin; your insides are roiling thunder but you stand as stiff as a corpse, limbs cramped as though the mere inflection has turned you to stone.

“—with my fledgling.”

MASTERLIST: CASTLEVANIA SERIES x READER

More of my work is on AO3 [many stories not on tumblr]

BLOG MASTERPOST (all you need to know)

Likes/comments/reblogs always and forever appreciated

[quietwingsinthesky]

MASTERFUL [+ even] SCENE ???

[Saxon groaning pathetically.]

EVEN (shouting) Master!

SAXON Present.

EVEN (curt) I don't belong to you. (shouting again) Missy!

SAXON Well, she's not here.

[An expectant silence followed by Saxon getting to his feet on his own noisily. Another expectant silence, this time followed by footsteps drawing closer. Another pair interrupts them, Even's, taking only two steps before they both stop.]

Please, don't look too happy to see me.

EVEN I'm not.

SAXON (lying) The feeling's mutual. (singsong) She's not coming back for you, (regular) so you're stuck with me. Doesn't that make you nostalgic?

[Even doesn't respond for long enough to disrupt the flow of the conversation.]

EVEN You would have come back.

[Even sighs.]

SAXON Obviously I would have. You're my pack mule.

EVEN Don't call me that.

SAXON Would you prefer guard dog? You do still have that gun somewhere?

EVEN (ignoring him) Eight.

SAXON What?

EVEN Eight versions of you. I had an equal chance to end up with any of them. Or alone. Or with… Um. (frustrated) She, um. The woman who wasn't you. (eureka) Miss Grant.

SAXON One of the Doctor's other pets. A very old model.

EVEN (audibly restraining themself from repeating him in any way) Or I could have gotten the one who sounded like Jack. I liked him.

SAXON Who?

EVEN Sunglasses.

SAXON You want Agent Smith? You can't complain that I'm mistreating you and then ask for him. Do you want to know how he got that accent?

EVEN Not really.

SAXON He took it when he took that body. It's human. It had a life, a wife, a-

EVEN You did that.

SAXON (annoyed) He did it more recently. The sunglasses cover up its eyes. Dead give away otherwise. He crawled inside it, made himself at home, and failed to make it count for anything.

EVEN You failed.

SAXON (angry) I won! You'll believe Missy, like she's done anything with her own life-

EVEN (matching his volume) It's your life!

SAXON Exactly! I'm not throwing it away for her to waste! I deserve this!

[Silence. Wind.]

What are you doing with your face? Stop it.

EVEN (upset) I'm not doing anything.

SAXON (disgusted, mostly with his own reaction) Close your eyes. Stop looking at me like that.

[He huffs. Even sniffs. He shifts, as though looking away and back again.]

I told you to close them. Now, look what you've done.

EVEN (crying) I'm not doing! Anything!

SAXON Do I have to hit you?

EVEN (no hesitation) Yes.

[Silence.]

[A slap.]

[Even squeaks. Then they let out a harsh breath.]

SAXON Done?

[Even sniffles and breathes in with just as much effort.]

EVEN Done.

[They breathe in again. In the distance, there's the rumble of a car. Saxon turns to watch it as Even exhales.]

Why didn't you say you could do that?

SAXON You asked for it. Don't act all 'woe is me' because I left a bruise.

EVEN (pleased) Left a-? (stops themself) No. About bodies. About. You said you-

SAXON He.

EVEN You got inside another person.

SAXON (innuendo) Every other day, if I can help it.

[Even sniffs again. They don't get it.]

EVEN (whispering, mimicking Saxon) If I can help it. Help. (regular) You should have told me what I was there for. If you wanted me around because I'm human and you can- However you do it. Why didn't you?

SAXON (the answer is because I wasn't going to, or because I was and I decided not to later and then I'd have to come up with a reason why that both of us would believe, or because I still would have if I had to in order to live, and then I would have eaten you all up until there was nothing left, and you'd be gone, do you understand that, you'd be gone.) I had enough trouble keeping you on a leash when you were waiting for me to kill you. You really think I would have let it slip that I wanted to wear you to stay alive. You'd have shot me. I've had enough of that for one regeneration.

[Two pairs of footsteps. One moves back. The other advances.]

[Even hums.]

EVEN I don't look good in sunglasses.

SAXON I don't look good in human. We all have to make sacrifices.

EVEN (tiredly) Sacrifices. Because you deserve it.

SAXON See? That wasn't so hard. You always come around to my way of thinking. (realizing something) So stay close to me. And… if we run into me again, don't listen to what I have to say. What they have to say. Especially her.

EVEN (half a laugh) Heh.

[The sound of another car passing in the distance. They're both quiet.]

SAXON So, do you have that gun?

EVEN Yes. (pause) I'm not going to kill anyone for you, Master.

[Two pairs of footsteps, heading away together. Their voices get similarly distant, slowly trailing off and leaving the wind behind.]

SAXON No, I'm sure they'll be very helpful and give us the car if you show it off.

EVEN And if they don't?

SAXON Then, I'll kill them. Spare you the trouble. (muttering) I don't know why you care. The Doctor's gone. You can't impress her anymore.

EVEN I still don't believe you.

SAXON I threw her into a star!

EVEN (mimicking him, mockingly this time) Into a star! You don't believe you, either. You're still waiting for her to show up.

SAXON Why don't we just walk the rest of the way in silence?

[Silence and further shuffling of footsteps]

EVEN (very faintly, far away) You're right. This is nostalgic.

[prettyblondguys]

Hello, My Old Heart

A fluffy VERY SHORT early morning one-shot with Aegon and a plus sized reader

I saw this prompt "i can’t sleep without you here” from @peakydiary and immediately had to write this lol

Warnings: drinking/Aegon being drunk, kind of alludes to the theme of sex ("lay with") but that's it, just kissing. Proofreading goes against my religious freedoms.

It must have been well into the night when you were awakened by the bed dipping behind you, clumsy hands wrapping themselves around your soft stomach and pulling your back against a warm chest. In your half-asleep state you could smell the somewhat pleasant aroma of mead still on Aegon's breath as he nuzzled into your neck, and you let out a contented hum when he curled himself around you. You had grown used to his habits, to not knowing if he would follow you shortly to your chambers to lay with you, or if he would instead wander off on his own, to drink goblet after goblet of wine and mead and anything else he could find, only to shuffle through your door hours later to lay beside you.

"I'm trying to drown my problems, my love." He had recently told you when you'd expressed concern. "No," you had replied, trying with all your might not to lecture him, "you are trying to drown yourself."

Even if you tried, you couldn't be mad at him. You knew what his life was like, his family, their expectations. You knew he was missing the love you so desperately tried to pour into him, while he was too preoccupied pouring more wine. So on nights when he'd stumble towards your bed in the darkness, you wouldn't complain about the hour, or that he should wash up first, you just let him hold you, and prayed that perhaps his dreams would offer him more peace than drink did.

But the trouble always came in the morning, as it has today. The sun drifts in through the curtains, covering the room in a hazy pale light as you open your eyes. You look down to see his arms still around you, loosely draped across your abdomen. Slowly as not to wake him, you stretch your legs out under the covers and begin to lean forward, gently easing towards the edge of the bed. You don't make it very far when one of Aegon's hands grabs hold of your silk nightgown, the other tightly snaked around your waist, pulling you down and against him, where he promptly nuzzles back into you.

With a chuckle, you place your hand atop his. "It's time for me to get up, Aegon." He lets out a muffled groan, the vibrations of which travel down your spine. "But," he says, face pressed into your back, trying to block out the light, "it's not time for me to get up." He tightens his hold on you for emphasis. "You are welcome to stay in bed, love," You absentmindedly draw circles along his arms, willing yourself to ignore just how nice he feels against you, how warm and utterly intoxicating his embrace is, "you were up late last night, you should sleep for a bit longer."

His arms loosen around you just enough for him to lean up, eyes screwed shut against the offensive sun, and place a gentle kiss to your soft jawline. "I can't sleep without you here." Said without embarrassment, without shyness or fear, but with a whine of unfairness. You turn your head to get a look at him, his chin perched on your shoulder, brows furrowed and lips pouting, and your heart skips a beat. What you feel in this moment, staring at this bratty little prince with his eyes tightly shut, is so overwhelming that you think you might cry. But instead you kiss the place in between his brows and turn away from him. "Ok," you whisper, choking back the emotion threatening to spill over, "I'll stay for a little while longer." 

He lets go of your nightgown and sighs against you, happy to have won this little battle. 

[cellard0ors]

The next night Travis finds her at the shoreline.

She's there and she has legs.

Her hair is still damp, but otherwise she's dry and she's tucked into the long grass and brush near the water's edge so as not to fully expose her nakedness.

She looks at him with accusatory blue eyes, "Did you bring clothes?"

Travis nods dumbly and draws out a dress from his pack. It belongs to his mother, so it will be big on her, but better this than nothing.

He holds it out and she takes it before shooting him a look that says he should turn around so she can have privacy. He has absolutely no trouble doing so, his whole face hot and red just from seeing her bare legs.

Even though his back is to her, he speaks, "Is Laura okay?"

"Laura?"

"As a name...can I call you Laura?"

It's quiet for a minute and he can hear the cloth of the dress ruffling before he gets a muffled, "Yeah.. Actually sounds pretty close to my actual name."

Travis grins, pleased at her response. When she gives an 'okay, you can turn around now', it's hard not to laugh, because she's pretty much swimming in the dress he managed to sneak out.

Still, she knows all about swimming and she manages to make it work as she seats herself back on the ground, "Did you bring the shiny thing?"

"The shin-?" Travis starts and then, remembering the slinky he quickly sits across from her with an, "Oh yeah!"

He pulls out the toy and hands it to her. Laura fiddles with it, clearly finding it interesting, which is fitting considering Travis finds her interesting, "So, ah - you have legs?"

Laura nods, but her attention seems fixated on the slinky, which she moves back and forth with an absorbed fascination. Travis clears his throat and she seems to pick up on the nuance of how that means she should continue.

"I do when I'm dry. All our people do."

Travis doesn't even know where to start with that one, but luckily she seems more than happy to continue as she plays with the toy, "Mers are all over the world. We inhabit all types of water. We can only turn our legs into tails in our home waters though."

"Oh! Neato!" Travis returns brightly, because it truly is. Laura just smirks, "Home waters can change too - depending on what you choose when you reach The Embarkment."

"The-?"

"It's a coming of age for us. We go through several of them. The first is after your twentieth wave, then thirtieth and so on."

Travis takes that to mean their ages and nods as if he understands, which he's pretty sure he does. Laura suddenly looks a little sad, even with her dedication to the slinky, which she's currently trying to unravel, "My mother hit her thirtieth recently...she chose to come to shore."

This gets a frown from him, confusion clear on his face, but Laura - while clearly sad - seems to like having someone to confide in, "That's why I was here a few nights ago. I was hoping she might come back."

Laura sits the toy down and looks at him sadly, "I should have known better though. She's made her choice. She'll be here for the next ten waves, then reevaluate. She might continue to choose the land. She might not. Either way..."

There's a slim shrug from her, but Travis is horrified at the implications of her words, "You're saying your mom just left?!?"

A nod and Laura looks at his pack thoughtfully, "Didn't you have other things in there?"

Travis nods and pulls out his other toys, but he feels awful. His parents might not love him, but at least they're around. They didn't just abandon him. Laura must sense his thoughts because she gives a small smile, "Don't worry. My father is still with me. He says the currents were simply too strong for her to ignore. That's all."

While Travis doesn't think that's a legitimate reason for abandoning someone's family, he is glad to hear she's not entirely alone. Especially out there, in the lake, and he looks at it in wonder - how many of her people are down there?

How many mystical and magical things are there in the world? The idea of it makes him feel light, happy - makes him feel as if what he endures at home is worth it. Because wonderful things are out there!

And the first wonderful thing he met is her and he looks at Laura with a lopsided grin, "Well, I'm sorry to hear that. But I'm glad we got to meet one another and become friends."

"Friends?" Laura blinks, "Is that what we are?"

Travis audibly swallows and suddenly feels like a real big dummy, only for her to gives him a huge grin as she reaches out to shove at one of his shoulders, "I'm kidding!"

"Y-you are?"

"Of course! We can be friends!" Laura picks up the eight ball and rolls it around in her hands, "It'll be fun! Not to mention it's good for me to learn about the land - especially if my mother ever returns."

Travis sees the logic in this, but he's more stoked at the idea of having his first ever friend. Especially one so unique and, as if sensing this, Laura suddenly looks at him, her expression very serious, "You can't tell anyone about me though. Not ever. Do you understand?"

...the only way she says it...with such serious gravity...

But Travis does understand and it's not as if he has anyone to tell anyway, so he nods and holds out one hand, "Okay! It's a deal!"

Laura looks at his hand in confusion and he sighs, "You shake it."

Laura takes his hand by the top of his fingers and shakes it. He laughs and gives a little 'Oh no, not like that! Like-?' and he shows her how they should hold one another's hands and shake.

They do so and the moment seems almost electric. Momentous in a way Travis can't describe. But it feels good, too and for the first time in a long time, Travis is happy.

Very happy indeed.

[digitalspool]

thinking about how dr ratio would comfort my oc/self-insert, iris (she is #traumatised) they r so silly

established relationship, potentially ooc? idk if i write ratio correctly lol. will have to go into iris' backstory at some point~

at first dr ratio's confused. he’s never seen iris so vulnerable before — she’s always been so closed off with her emotions, so it’s odd to see her near to tears.

“i’m fine.” her voice is cold, distant. but he can see that she’s not fine — the way her body trembles ever so slightly, she’s biting her lip, her eyes dart about the room nervously.

“clearly, you’re not fine.” dr ratio says, huffing as he draws close to her. his gaze softens as he takes in her appearance. he hates to see her so troubled. his voice is a touch gentler, “you can trust me. i promise i won’t judge. it would be counterproductive to judge you.”

iris hesitates.

“i’m sorry. this is unbecoming of me.” she bites her lip, looking away from him. “i… didn’t really want you to see me like this.”

she walks away, ignoring his looks of concern.

iris has always relied on herself to pick herself back up, because she believes that she isn’t allowed to rely on anyone. she feels that she is not enough for him. that… she shouldn’t be allowed to feel.

he only realises this just a bit too late.

he wants to feel disappointed at her most recent presentation, but... he can't bring himself too. the way she's slumped on the chair, as if lifeless...

he wants her to be like herself again. unsure of how to deal with her state, he falls back into familiar patterns, as if she's a student who's scored a less than adequate score on a test.

“why didn’t you come to me? you've made a complete fool of yourself. it’s foolish of you to not depend on me— you can lean on me!" his own frustration bleeds into his words. he doesn't understand - why isn't she trusting him? are they not close enough? he though...

"why are you being so stubborn? you-” he stops, noticing her fearful expression. just a few words and she’s already shirking away from him. he recognises that maybe he's being a bit too harsh on her... perhaps it's best if he takes a different approach.

“...my apologies." he murmurs. iris' gaze snaps to him. it's feels rare to see him apologise, but dr. ratio is smart enough to know when he's in the wrong. "i care for you, you realise that?” his voice is soft, unlike anything iris has heard before. “it is important that you’re taken care of… otherwise, how will a genius such as yourself flourish?”

a silence. iris still looks afraid of something. he can't tell what, though.

“i’m not allowed.” she whispers, her voice holding a slight tremor, “mother and father says i’m not allowed to feel. that i shouldn’t be so pathetic. that i am not worthy of comfort. seeking out others will lead to ‘punishment’.”

it’s enraging. the fact that she believes that she can’t rely on him, the fact that her parents have driven in the belief that she is not worthy of anything. her words allow him a glimpse of her past. it’s enough for him to realise that she’s experienced something truly harmful.

he wishes he could heal her from her traumatic experiences. but all he can do is hold her close and whisper words of comfort.

“don’t say that." he gently takes her hand and stares into her eyes, searching for any hints of emotion. all he can see is fear, shame and apprehension. "of course you're allowed to feel, don't be foolish. ignore your parents words. confide in me."

she still looks hesitant.

"i'm sorry." she murmurs, nodding at him, giving him permission to hold her close. immediately, he wraps his arms around her, pulling him into his embrace. so what, if the people are watching? her comfort, her emotional state is his priority right now. they can gossip all they want. as long as she's okay.

"don't apologise." he scolds gently. "you're not with your parents anymore, you know that, right? so their words hold no weight."

she nods, feeling her throat tighten, knowing that if she tried speaking, her voice would come out as a pathetic sort of croak. instead, she leans into him, feeling the tears escape her eyes.

it's been so long, since she's cried. it's been so long, since she has indulged in the comfort of another...

for now, dr ratio is simply glad that she's allowing him to comfort her.

[traumasurvivorshelpingsurvivors]

TW: CSA; asian fetishization, particularly sexualization of asian women; incest, incestuous sexual abuse; abusive relationships; grooming; 'weeaboo' behavior; self harm

looking for advice? support? idk i'm just so upset

i have DID and ptsd and i think a lot of it is connected to my white dad who was very fetishistic about asian women (my mom is asian) and would sexualize me as a child and also touch me inappropriately. i remember when i was a child (10 years) him talking about how apparently all men know that the specific mix of ethnicities i am is the most attractive. he also sexually mistreated me and i know wanted a female child (i was afab) so i can't help but think i was brought into the world becasue of the sex fantasy of my father who was trying to make the optimal sex race in his eyes. i'm trying to understand the concept of consent and other things now (i did not know i had a right to reject sexual advances or much of any other rights at all) and i'm having trouble adjusting to the world, although it is much better than the world at home.

one thing that keeps bothering me is 'weeaboos,' white people who are seemingly quite proud to proclaim their love of 'japanese culture' as a thin veil for fetishization. it's so common and widespread and in my living situation in college i encounter so many images of sexualized, often childlike or explicitly child characters, anime drawings. it really upsets me and my brain fog is so bad it's hard to explain why these things are wrong and perpetuate the same type of sexual violence that ruined my life. things were so much worse before, why does this bother me so much? i just feel unsafe i guess and things upset me more now that i know i'm supposed to have rights. the worst thing is sometimes it's inarticulatable. for example what caused me to have bad dissociation and flashbacks today were posters for some sort of 'cat maid' performance, with a 'anime' girl in a maid outfit. i don't know how to explain how i KNOW that this comes from fetishization of asian women! i just KNOW! and it upsets me because i can't explain. i hate that white people expect me to be polite and bring it up to them instead of tearing it down myself, they want me to politely debate them when im the one who hurts so bad trying to talk about it, it affects me not them. (this happened before)

i just feel so unsafe and when i have gone to multiple of my friends for support, they stop responding to me after i talk about being sexually abused as a child. it's like i disgust them. i hate myself so much and no one will help me. i feel so alone. and i hate therapists more than anyone, i have gone to over 7 therapists and i hated all of them.. they don't understand my experiences or respect me. it's so hard to reach out to friends and talk about what i've gone through and i don't know what to do that they ignore me. and the friends who do respond to me only respond to my messages after i mention something else- usually a favor i can do for them. it's so hard to trust anyone and i've had my trust betrayed several times. the only thing i can think of to do is self harm. i've been through too much in my life and i can't handle it anymore. i have so little support in my life to the point where i desparately miss the 30+ year old white man who groomed me when i was 16 and want to talk to him. i feel like there is no one i can trust but i crave going back to people who hurt me

Hi anon,

I'm so sorry to hear about what happened to you, as well as what you've been going through more recently.

It makes sense why those portrayals are bothersome and perhaps even triggering for you. It reminds you of the way you believe your dad wanted you to be. I can see how being calm and collected feels impossible when it's so brazenly reminiscent of your trauma.

It sounds like many people in your life you tried talking to about your trauma, friends and therapists, weren't equipped with the proper emotional response and multicultural approach that you were looking for. They simply weren't understanding enough and you felt invisible. You don't deserve to feel that way.

I hope that you find people to surround yourself with that do make you feel seen and heard as a survivor, and can respect your thoughts on asian fetishization.

I hope I could help. Please let us know if you need anything.

-Bun

[iceswords]

All I Want Is To Get This Right

" oh boy! what a happy landing!" was the first thing yanqing heard upon his eyesight returning as he held his sword in hand. there was no visible sign of danger yet at it could still be lurking in every corner of this alleyway. you could the hear the yawn of the bellboy followed by him stretching out before noticing the distress that being pulled deeper into the dream had caused yanqing and was quick to walk over to him, ignoring the blade as he somehow knew that the lieutenant wouldn't hurt him nor did the bellboy fear death. one couldn't really die in a dream anyway.

" it's alright. the coast is clear now." misha spoke in attempt to assure yanqing that they were safe, placing a white gloved hand on the area where the taller boy had just been stabbed in the back to showcase that no actual physical harm came to him while those yellow ember eyes only looked misha for only sign of injury. there were none.

with the hand on back, yanqing eased down and soon carefully scathed his sword. even if it would be just a mental cut, he wouldn't want to hurt misha intentionally or not. the two boys just stood there, locking eyes while white gloved hand gently stroked up and down the warrior's back until misha knew the taller wouldn't suddenly attack someone out of fear or suspicion.

clockie awkwardly stood to the side and watched as this went on. not interfering on this moment between the two boys.

the other white gloved hand of misha's reaching up and taking yanqing's as he moved himself to the other side of the taller boy so they could walk together hand in hand once again while starting to explain to yanqing what just happened.

" you remember that claw stabbing you?" asked misha as the two walked through the alley together towards what appeared to an elevator shift in the distance. walking down freights of stairs then flat ground then stairs then back to flat ground with rows of buildings on each side of them with posters, graffiti and lights while cables of light bulb ran from one building to the other similar to march's fairy lights.

you could see a rushedly drawn image of clockie in white graffiti that was lit up by some light below with an arrow draw in the same graffiti above it's head pointing towards an archway.

" of course. how could I?" yanqing couldn't help but retort in reply as the bellboy just found his remark rather cute and continued on, " well, that was the memory meme everyone's been calling about. sleepie doesn't actually kill anyone though, just carries them here from different dreamscapes and even from one to another- like a ferry! of course there used to be a much easier way but.. the family closed it up."

" they seem to be closing up a lot of things and I remember the handbook states that the hotel in the dream has been going through renovations recently, right? an entire building.. that seems odd, don't you think?"

" oh! we tell guests that so they don't go exploring it. it's not quite up to code just yet. some of the dreamjolt troupe members have.. some issues, let's say. I'm sure you'd do fine in there! I can snuck you in for a sneak peak if you like." breaking the rules wasn't something that misha normally did. the bellboy of the reverie who followed the dream regulations but it wasn't exactly his job to hold up them. he simply had to give a smile and welcome guests into the dream.

with the company of clockie and yanqing, misha wanted to see this new experience would lead him and if that meant getting into some trouble then all the better. the bellboy was ready for an adventure and he could tell that yanqing felt the same. stopping to look up at the massive clockie.. broken down and in need of repair. almost looked forgotten and abandoned. perhaps he was in time-out. how long this time out of his had gone on for is undecided as soon misha led yanqing over towards an old elevator that looked almost like a cage that opens up for them upon taking a step near it and waiting for them to get in." this will take us up to timesplit square and then I can show you the plaza- it has the best view!"

" is this place.. dreamflux reef? where you said that you lived." yanqing spoke as he had taken his first step into the elevator with misha leading the way excited to show him around." hmhm! home sweet home! and now that you have time to 'kill' since people think you're dead, I can show you around. ooohh! and it gets even better!" the elevator closed up once more before eventually starting to move upwards with clockie tagging along.

misha looked at yanqing with pure excitement and enthusiasm that our beloved excitable lion couldn't help but match it. two boys full of energy and ready to go as they held hands. not even that small room could contain all this excitement. yanqing gave up a bright smile, nodding as an indication to keep going. " I just got a three day vacation! so out of the blue! I was thinking about seeing one of the other planets on one of those days. I texted stelle and she recommended this one called jarilo-vi- it’s all frozen over. said I should take photos and sent me a photo of the place. here, look!” misha rambled on while yanqing cling to every single word before the bellboy pulled out his phone and showed the photo stelle had sent him.

yanqing looked at the photo, already knowing what planet he was talking about before looking back up to see if he had more to say but when he didn’t, the lieutenant decided to speak with just as much enthusiasm and excitement. “ oh my gosh! that’s the planet my māmā lives on!” with a point to the image as yanqing paid no mind to the affectionate term that came out of his mouth while misha looked at the other like he was the most precious thing in the world. “ really?? how cool! I can meet your mom! uhh.. umm.. because I will be there.. and she will be there.” he started with a blurt out of words so excitedly before realizing the implication of what he had just said and tried to correct it. he wasn’t going to go look for this mystery woman/man/person but if he happened to run into her during his vacation- all the better, right?

it became awkwardly silent for a few seconds until the doors opened up though neither let go of the other’s hand even after stepping out of the elevator with misha still leading the way while clockie followed along, telling them to wait up for him because he had such tiny legs. his yellow ember eyes looked up at the floating building in the sky had a ray of light beaming from it that resembled a snowflake or star. it was eerily beautiful and alluring but - at least in yanqing’s eyes - it didn’t come close to how beautiful and alluring misha was. he had almost thought that he had died at first and part of him still did because there stood an angel in a bellhop’s uniform. when misha stood in a certain way with his head blocking the floating building with the continuing rays of light that surrounded, it made him look even more like divinity.

misha took yanqing on a tour through his home, showcasing all the best parts and places to hang out. yanqing would have to stay in dreamflux reef for awhile afterwards though, staying put until the general finally catches up and finds him here. it wasn’t all that fun to stay in one location for so long and even hanging out with misha started to grow tiring but he kept up the smile if only to see the bellboy so happy and keep his mind at ease. it would seem that arlan had tagged along on misha and yanqing’s escape ride on the ‘ferry’ but was able to go back and forth because nobody actually saw the security guard get ‘stabbed’ by sleepie.

it felt like several centuries went by until eventually the unexpected came when misha returned from his three day vacation looking upset and it would appear to have been directed at yanqing. the bellboy wouldn’t yell or scream at first as the lieutenant tried to find a way to calm him down but misha did snap as the two were hanging out together in the shorter boy’s house located in slumbertown. “ stop lying to me! and don’t even try to avoid it, I know you’ve been lying. why haven’t you woken up yet? it can’t just be because of me.” a straightforward and direct approach. something that yanqing uncharacteristically had been avoiding in fear of worrying or upsetting misha but his lies seemed to just upset the bellboy even more as it only made it appear as though yanqing was pushing away- and perhaps in a way yanqing was. this was new territory for yanqing but it didn’t seem to be that way for misha.

it came as a shock to the system when yanqing heard misha yell at him but he also knew that he had it coming. it was very well deserved after all the lying. if one were to take anything away from this situation, it would be to never listen to the advice of a gambling addicted loser like aventurine. always listen to your gay parents and never piss off misha who currently looked ready to beat yanqing up with just his mop and a bucket of memoria. maybe that would clean up yanqing’s act. “ okay, okay. I will explain.” he started up as the two of them stood in the living room. yanqing kept a table in between them for the moment as it looked like a fight was going to happen- be it with classic cartoony violence or with words. “you know that I was looking into the watchmaker’s legacy, right? well.. I was given some advice and intel from the ipc’s aventurine. he told me not to trust anyone and to keep my cards close to my chest.” yanqing would feel the soaked brushes of a mop hit him on the head as a signal from misha to quit talking like the gambler and get to his point already. it was warranted and deserved, “ I was.. kinda doing that. you, my dear bellboy, are definitely an important ‘card’ but that’s not why I’m still here. you said it before.. people think I’m dead right now and that includes my dad. he will come looking for me and staying here will make things easier for him.”

misha listened and took in the words, knowing them to be true before his mop vanished from his hands and he gave a nod in reply causing yanqing to let out a sigh of relief as he had been spared by the aeons. “ okay. that makes sense.” he stated as the two boys soon moved to sit together on the coach with hands slightly touching while the bellboy still appeared a little bit upset. “ you know.. I really was thinking that I had somehow done something wrong. you don’t lie. you could have just told me you were waiting for your dad, I would have understood.” the two boys sitting down and having a real conversation with each other. the air had been so tense but slowly it was starting to become less so until misha was laying his head on yanqing’s shoulder again.

“ no, it’s not you.” yanqing shook his head in reply before laying it atop of the other’s, “ I’ve just never been in this.. situation before. liking someone as much as I like you and I really like you. I just.. don't want to mess this up somehow. considering I've been on a losing streak recently."

" I just.. I just want this to last, that's all." misha curled himself up beside the other. a love that lasts. was that too much to ask? his grandfather left him here alone so many years ago. pulled away from him and didn't talk to him. yanqing hadn't been talking to misha and therefore misha thought he was planning on leaving him too. he knew that yanqing never promised to stay here forever and misha wouldn't ask that of him but the bellboy only really ever had himself at the end of it all.

it was just nice to finally have someone to come home to and would welcome him with such warmth and love. misha knew that yanqing would have to go back to the luofu but a part of him didn't want to ever let yanqing go now that he was holding him so close. he knew it was selfish. " I can't stay here forever, misha." yanqing pointed out only for the bellboy to cuddle up into him even more, " I know. can-can I just have this moment?"

" of course."

yanqing would wake up, cuddled up and laid out on the couch with misha. who knew a person could fall asleep in a dream, am I right? but that’s what had happened to yanqing as he currently didn’t feel like moving as he looked at misha and soon saw that the other boy was awake too. it had been a good four or so days of knowing each other that felt like so much longer but yanqing didn’t really know how to define this relationship. were they dating now or was it too early to decide on that? perhaps they needed more time. " .. what time is it?" he whispered to himself, pulling up his phone and checking the digital clock on there, " we slept for.. eight system hours. so, I've been here for a hundred and four system hours." he noted more to himself than to misha.

" hmm.. you arrived at the reverie a good forty-eight system hours before that. so I would say in total you have been on penacony for a hundred and fifty-six system hours." misha sleepily added in.

" and I spent the most of that hundred and fifty-six hours.." the boy sat up and stretched out, " with you!" before looking down and seeing that sweet adorable face of misha's looking back up at him. misha couldn't help but smile in response, feeling so special yet at the same time feeling like he might have wasted the lieutenant's time. misha and yanqing silently agreed to not talk about the future right now- as both preferred to simply live in the moment and take things one day at a time or rather one system hour at a time.

they did however agree to never lie to each other but that pact of no lying would soon imply to arlan when the two headed out into town to spend some time together before misha had to head to work. seeing who had landed in was the most fun part of any day spent in dreamflux reef. robin had already been there by the time yanqing arrived and was waiting for her brother to show up. in the meantime she taught the local orphans how to sing while yanqing opted to teach them another way to 'sing' via self defense techniques. they'll thank him when they're older.

yanqing didn't see any sign of the astral express crew yet. perhaps they were running a little late and needed to catch up with everyone. after listening to all the different people's thoughts and gathering intel on the family, yanqing had been proven correct about his early suspicions. there was no way everybody in a family could get along so easily or rather as often as the family implied. there was bound to be internal fighting and arguments but it would seem that the watchmaker had been the black sheep of the family so to say.

the legacy of the watchmaker couldn't really remain such a mystery for long when you're dating the grandson of the previous watchmaker. those stones with names on them? apparently they are what the short-lifers would call tombstones. yanqing had only learned this tidbit of information from arlan and misha when they met up in timesplit square.

" you.. keep the dead bodies on broad? that's a definite bacteria issue you have on your hands. not to mention, a heliobus could possess that thing." noted yanqing after arlan explained the concept to him.

" of course not but we have all sorts on the herta space station. while how they say goodbye to their loved ones is entirely up to them, we definitely don't keep rotting corpses just laying around." answered arlan, " besides, heliobi are only native to your flagships in particular."

" the xianzhou alliance does a voyage type of thing, right? kinda similar to vikings. you put the body inside a starkiff with all the things that person liked and send it off into space." misha mentioned.

" usually yeah but last time we couldn't find the body, so all we could do was put the things she liked as well as certain gifts people never got to give her." stated yanqing.

the topic of death was quite heavy, especially after the misunderstanding of sleepie. memory memes weren't viewed as monsters here in dreamflux reef. it was quite similar to how jing yuan and yanqing viewed mimi. a creature most would view as dangerous and needing to be locked up or shot but with enough training and love, a lion or a memory meme or even a dreamjolt troupe member could make for a good companion. " soo.. anyway! we should talk about something else. misha and I-" yanqing started in attempt to change the topic but then was interrupted by arlan, " are dating? yeah. I got that."

" p-please don't interrupt like that! I think he was talking about something else." spoke misha who didn't look embarrassed by the notion at all, only his usual shy nature poking through. arlan looked between the two of them in utter silence, waiting for one or the other to say something. yanqing and misha looked to each other as if they were talking telepathically but really just were reading each other's expressions and body language.

" right. we talked. you are our son now- wait, no, that wasn't it either. what I was trying to say earlier was that misha and I were talking. about lies and the hunt for the watchmaker's legacy. I don't think any of us three really consider it a mystery at this point but we think we should be more open about our discoveries. be honest." yanqing explained to arlan.

" yeah. and what I discovered is that you two are clearly head over heels for each other. that ain't a mystery." replied arlan, " also you can't adopt me without the proper paperwork first."

" the real watchmaker's legacy was the friends we made along the way." mused misha, " .. and illegal adoption."

" must you really encourage him, misha?" asked arlan a little irritated.

" yes. is that not what a boyfriend does?" misha curiously asked in turn.

yanqing checked his phone while misha and arlan had their little banter. the three were almost like a close knitted family now. " oh.. half a system hour before you have to clock in." he reminded misha, expecting only a nod or a 'thank you, yanqing' but instead received a kiss on the cheek from the bellhop as thanks. yep. they were dating now.

" ack! get a room, you two." came arlan's complaint as he had to endure this lovey-dovey attitude between the two boys and would have to continue enduring it until after the charmony festival was over. misha soon started to head off to catch his ride to work or perhaps find his own way there but either way yanqing was left with a dorky smile on his face and cartoon-y hearts floating around him. soon shaking his head and looking over to arlan, " uhh.. anyway! what do you think? should I introduce misha to my dad or is it too early for that?"

[casualjacobwrites]

FFXIV Write 2023 Prompt #22 - Fulsome

Having my main Sindri rescue Aymeric from a dreadfully dull party. We'll say it takes place between Heavensward and Stormblood.

Word Count: 981

---

There was nothing quite like the tedium of a High House soiree. On the surface such affairs were meant to be a source of entertainment and celebration, but that thin veneer was easy to see through once the guests were gathered and the gossip began. The way the nobles would offer fulsome praise to each other's faces only then to turn away and whisper disparaging comments to their companions was almost terrifying to behold. After spending his early years of life as a bastard son and then as Lord Commander of the Temple Knights, Ser Aymeric de Borel loathed his time spent at the High House events. He'd much rather have faced a horde of dragons or march into the middle of a blizzard in the Western Highlands than force himself to sit through another of of Lady Durendaire's dry speeches concerning the proud tradition of Ishgardian noble houses while ignoring the recent grisly revelations about the true history of their fair country.

To say adjusting to life as the head of the newly formed House of Lords had been difficult was an understatement. He yearned for the sorts of gatherings Sindri described for him, the ones that took place in the Brume where no one cared about propriety and sang bawdy ballads about fishmongers and their daughters.

"Did you hear my suggestion, Ser Borel?"

Aymeric glanced up from his wine glass to see Count Baurendouin de Haillenarte peering at him with an expectant expression. He stared at him blankly for a few seconds before blinking his eyes. "Oh, I'm terribly sorry Count Haillenarte. I fear I'm poor company this evening due to a recent bout of insomnia." He feigned a yawn.

"Oh, aye. Sleep has been difficult in these times of change, though I believe my son Stephanivien has taken to it as a fish to water." He patted Aymeric's shoulder in a gesture of sympathy. "My physick has given me a draught that helps me sleep well enough. I'm sure if you wrote to him he would be all too happy to provide you with a prescription."

"Oh, I couldn't possibly trouble him. It will pass soon enough. In the interim, why not draw up your proposal and have it sent to me? I'll be happy to study it before the next session." While he couldn't recall the details of Count Baurendouin's plans, he did at least glean enough to know his offer would placate the head of House Haillenarte.

"Splendid idea, my friend. I shall have my manservant deliver it to your door by week's end." He chortled happily and raised his glass for a toast. After a few more unimportant pleasantries, he excused himself to join several other noblemen in a round of cards.

Alone at last, Aymeric polished off his wine and set the empty glass on the tray of a passing servant. Taking care not to draw attention to himself, he made his way towards an open balcony. Per usual the air was bitingly cold and numbed the tips of his ears, but he welcomed the chill all the same. It reminded him of serving guard duty for the Temple Knights before he'd worked his way up the ranks to Lord Commander.

Fury spare me from a life of politics. Alas, Halone did not appear before him and carry him away from the so-called party. Instead it would seem She sent him a savior instead.

"Tsk, tsk, a handsome lord alone on such a fine evening. Such a pity."

Snapping to attention, Aymeric spun around prepared to defend himself only to immediately relax his stance upon recognizing the person who emerged from a shadowed corner of the balcony. Though the man wore a mask concealing much of his face, there was no mistaking the tall red-furred ears atop his head.

"Sindri, when did you--" A finger pressed against his lips to silence him.

The Warrior of Light glanced over his shoulder to make sure no one watched them or heard his name. "Hilda snuck me in through the servant's entrance," he whispered.

"Why would Hilda bring you in through…oh dear gods, what is she plotting?"

"Nothing nefarious, I assure you. The servants are having a party of their own, and I thought you might like to join us." He tilted his head back to gaze up at Aymeric's face with a grin.

Aymeric hesitated. "I'm not so sure I'd be welcomed there."

Sindri shook his head. "Hilda was the one who suggested it. She said it would do you good to hear from the common folk and for them to see you as a person rather than another nobleman."

"What do you think?"

"I think she's right, and I also think it would be fun to see you get proper drunk." Sindri leaned forward, to bring his mouth closer to the elezen's ear. "And then you can take me home."

It was a wonder Aymeric's face didn't catch fire from the way his cheeks burned. While he was still unsure of the sort of reception he might receive among the servants of House Durendaire and their compatriots, the promise of a night with the man he loved was impossible to refuse. "If I leave now, everyone will notice."

Sindri smiled. "Use the servant's entrance to the kitchen near the dining hall. No one is there now. As for an excuse, Lucia is prepared to tell everyone you were called away on an important matter with the Temple Knights."

"Lucia knows?"

"Of course. Who do you think told me where to find you?"

Aymeric wasn't sure how he felt about his second in command plotting behind his back, but he was also grateful that she encouraged his and Sindri's relationship. He'd have to remember to send her a package of her favorite sweets as a thank you gift.

The night had gone from tedious to exciting.

[twstedstoryshop]

Hi your rules link doesn't work but I really want to request if any of this is against the rules please ignore

My request is for Leona Jamil and Silver(my favourite boys) where they overhear reader gush about how attractive they are not realising the boys are listening

Female reader if you can please

Hope you don't mind that while in the middle of writing, my brain just automatically made the reader vague in their gender. Also I'm not sure if I wrote Jamil well enough. He's still an enigma to me, weeps. -Shopkeep

Leona, Jamil, and Silver Overhear MC Gushing About Them

Perhaps Leona is in his usual napping spot in the botanical gardens. He’s hidden away behind a number of bushes or plant life, lazing about under the shade of a nearby tree. He’s dozing away until his ear flicks to hear a couple of familiar voices.

It’s you, the herbivore, alongside your annoying cat companion. It seems like the two of you were chatting away about school daily life. Particularly about a practice match that Savanaclaw recently took part in.

“Man, I swear, with each passing day, those guys in Savanaclaw keep gettin’ rougher and rougher!” Grim whines. “I wouldn’t be surprised if one day, they just eat someone alive in the middle of the field!”

Leona’s ear flicks in slight annoyance at that comment. You laugh though and try to reason with Grim that the boys in Savanaclaw are working harder than ever to make up for their loss at the last Spelldrive tournament. You sigh, bemoaning that you were sad one particular student didn’t show for practice.

At this, Leona would listen in curiously despite his eyes being shut the whole time. “Ugh, I wish I could have seen him work out today. Seeing him be hot like usual would have given me energy…” Grim made a violent gagging noise.

“Ugh, can you please not fawn over that lazy lion when I’m around! What do you even see in that guy…” Now THAT caught his attention. A sly smile would curl on his lips and without alerting the two Ramshackle students, Leona would stand tall behind you and Grim. Particularly, he’s leaning over you like a hunter leering down on his prey.

“And here I thought your head was always in the clouds, herbivore. Who knew you were keepin’ such a close eye on someone.” You instantly whirl around at the sound of his voice. He’s already leaned down to your level, his poison green eyes locked with yours. “Now… What’s this about you finding a certain ‘lazy lion’ hot?”

I pray for you, dear reader, because Leona would not let you live it down that you find him attractive. He would tease you at any given moment just to watch you adorably get flustered. Like a cat toying with a darling mouse~

Jamil was in the midst of a break from his classes. He was idly leaning against a nearby column in the school hallways, observing as students conversed and walked around.

He would usually be with Kalim but the boy had run off without him, saying he wanted to meet up with Ramshackle Prefect. He was a bit worried that he’d get in trouble before reaching you, but thankfully his prayers were answered when he saw you both in the distance.

Jamil would draw closer but then stopped himself when a certain piece of information reached his ears. “Come on, Prefect! You should absolutely tell Jamil how you really feel! I’m sure he would be super flattered!” Jamil quickly hid in the shadows to hear this conversation go on.

“No, no, no, Kalim, I am not saying a single thing! What would I even say!? Oh, your gorgeous long hair reminds me of the finest dark silk. You looked incredibly amazing when you danced at that one feast. By the way, I was totally not checking out your muscles when you brokedance.” “Yes! You should say that!” “I was being sarcastic, Kalim! …Even though all of those are true…”

Jamil is trying so hard not to break his stealth because he is holding back laughter. He’s not laughing at you though, far from it, he finds your reaction and the fact that you find him attractive rather endearing.

Eventually he will come out of hiding, acting like he stumbled onto the both of you casually. Kalim is trying his best to act not so subtly in getting you two alone. Jamil would play along because he wants to see more of your behavior around him.

The whole time you both are alone together, Jamil would pull these slight seductions on you. Like casually brushing his hair or stretching in such a way that gives you a peek at his skin. He acts like he doesn’t notice but if he catches you staring, he smiles to himself knowingly.

You’ve charmed him, dear reader, so please be prepared to deal with a curious Viper circling you in his coils.

It just happened to occur through sheer coincidence that Silver was able to wake himself up in time to hear you chatting. He rose up from his slumber and looked around curiously. Seemed like he took a nap under a nearby tree.

He saw that you were sitting at a bench close to where he was, in the middle of feeding birds some seeds, and you were talking to the birds!

“He’s so dreamy, you know? Not because he’s sleeping all the time or anything! But just–” You sigh. “He looks like a fairytale prince out of a storybook. I wouldn’t mind being his one true love. Haha, but that’s just silly romantic stuff. He’s too busy working hard to be a knight…” The birds tweet at you, trying to encourage you with kind songs and maybe one flutters up to cuddle against your cheek. “Aww… You guys trying to cheer me up?”

Hearing those words, Silver would feel an excited patter in his chest. The way you spoke about this person, it was obvious, even for him, to know who you were talking about.

He cleared his throat to let you know he was approaching and you turned quickly to see him. Albeit with a bit of pink coloring your cheeks. Dread fills you for a moment, asking if he heard all that but he assures you that he found your words quite charming.

By now, the both of you are feeling rather flushed as you sit on the bench, the birds around you acting quite excited by these turn of events. The little animal friends would try to push you two to sit closer and talk.

You try to apologize for talking behind his back but Silver, ever the gentleman, reassures you that you’re fine. He tries to lighten up the conversation by saying some rather bashful words, saying, “I don’t see why wanting to find someone you really care for is silly… Even if he’s busy being a knight-in-training…”

It's a very sugar sweet moment between the two of you. Your romantic words caught him by surprise and just like love at first sight for a prince, he can’t help but be drawn to your sincere admiration.

[astro-rain]

delicate; b.barnes

chapter seventeen - “wouldn’t dream of it”

delicate masterlist

word count: 4.7k

synopsis: reader has a strange dream that ends up bringing on a cascade of various events and feelings.

pairings: bucky barnes x fem!reader

A/N: feel free to drop any opinions/thoughts/predictions below (or in my asks if u wanna be anonymous!!)

She would have woken up from a night's sleep saturated with regret... if she had slept a wink. She spent the night tossing and turning, and at about five in the morning, the pursuit of rest was abandoned.

Forcefully and exasperatedly, she sat straight up, glaring at the clock and letting the blanket pool around her waist. Y/N had her weekly meeting with Shuri at nine o'clock... that meant four hours to kill. More like four more hours of trudging through thoughts, memories, questions, and fears surrounding the previous day. Four more hours of ruminating over Bucky Barnes. This seemed to become a reoccurring activity her life.

She stared at the wall, thinking about how before, there was at least the excuse of being drunk: maybe not completely knowing what she was doing, maybe not remembering something correctly. But they were sober this time... she was sober. And what struck her was that, when it happened, when he kissed her, there was no moment of initial startle. There was no surprise jerk back or woah-what-are-you-doing response. Their bodies just fell into form. She just fell into form. Like it was an instinct. Like they were both used to it, and had done it a number of times before.

She wasn't sure what shocked her more: the fact that he kissed her or the fact that she kissed him back. Was he being bold? Or did she lead him on? Had she been leading him on? He wouldn't have done it on his own account, right? She had a degree of difficulty in believing she was wanted. Truly.

She could've sworn that she wasn't this emotionally invested. She could've sworn that if she couldn't control what she was feeling, she could at least control what she was doing. She rubbed her eyes, wondering where she went so wrong. It probably happened at some point during the isolated time she had been spending with Bucky in a secret corner of the world, not minding the least bit that she had been away from home and work for months whilst working on a project hardly anyone else was even aware of.

Even with all this in mind, she didn't seem to care. She didn't really mind that she hadn't been home in ages, it didn't really bother her that she might be in trouble when she gets back for helping enemy of the state Sharon Carter, runaway fugitive Steve Rogers, or war criminal James Buchanan Barnes. Because every time she thought about the consequences, it just didn't seem to matter more than what was keeping her in Wakanda... Besides, she guessed Bucky would probably be pardoned and after everything settled down, who would pay any attention to her? It's not like she mattered in the grand scheme.

As soon as that very thought arose, she could hear Bucky's voice scolding her in the back of her head. Why was he always there?

Frustrated, she groaned into the air in front of her. Her feelings were so confusing, she wasn't even sure what exactly it was she felt towards Bucky. On one hand, she felt fiercely protective over him: she'd go down fighting before she'd let anyone lay a hand on him, prepared to stay in his corner forever, ready on defense.

But at the same time, she felt this ineffable sense of warmth for him. Like one look at the way his eyes crinkle when he smiled, and she'd turn soft as water. Like being in his vicinity smoothed out the rough around her edges.

And if all this wasn't enough, now she had been touched by him, she had felt his lips and the gentleness in his skin. This brought a cascade of new feelings, ones she knew she had to hide. It... was definitely a problem. She knew, don't get her wrong, she knew it was a problem. As much as she understood this irrefutable fact, the numbness in her lips just wouldn't go away. He had remained with her even hours later. She couldn't get rid of his heartbeat; it was still in her hand. She could still feel him.

Basically, she knew this most recent development was an issue. She knew it was bad, wrong, worrisome, and whatever else. And knowing this, recognizing the very hot water she was in, the only thing she could focus on was trying to ignore the recurrent desire to be near him, to find him and be close to him.

"Fuck."

She plopped back down on her back and elected to cast a burning glare at the ceiling until she had to get ready for her meeting.

—

"I think it might be too hot for this," she complained with a smile on her face.

"It was your idea," he said, a few steps ahead of her, "and we're almost there, so buck up."

She laughed. He smiled at the sound.

"What?" he asked.

"You said buck up. Like Buck... Bucky. Like you."

He just looked at her, amused. Sun kissed and happy.

"It's fitting," she shrugged, grinning.

"Guess so. Hurry up, slow poke. You're gonna fall behind."

"I'm already behind," she huffed . "Your super soldier legs are too fast for me."

"Well," he stopped short and she finally caught up, standing right beside him, "we're here. So worry not."

He looked over at her to find her already looking at him. Funny how their eyes always found each other like that.

"What?" he asked again, not able to help how the corners of his mouth turned up just slightly.

"Nothin.’ Everything," she shrugged. "You."

Perhaps she just liked looking at him. Him and his long hair and light eyes. Was that such a crime? His skin looked caramelized under the sun. She wanted to reach out and touch him.

"You're a real peach, y'know that?" he smirked.

She looked away, pretending to find the grass around them spectacularly interesting while hiding a dopey smile at his compliment.

"Hey, doll face. I'm a lot more fun than the grass, I swear," he teased. "Lemme see my favorite face."

"Hold on." She got an idea.

She reached down beside her and plucked a flower from the soil.

"A little hibiscus," she smiled, tucking the small flower behind his ear. God, he was just so pretty.

She stood back, satisfied with her decor. She sighed, content. How couldn't she be? She was looking at two of the most beautiful things. Flowers and Bucky.

As soon as it was securely in place, Bucky bent down to pick the hibiscus that sat right next to the one Y/N chose. Mirroring her actions, he placed it behind her ear.

"A little hibiscus," he repeated fondly, "for a real peach!"

She didn't dare try to hide the next dopey grin while taking in the sight before her, of Bucky beaming in the sunlight with a flower in his hair. Looking at this, she understood why mankind began to paint. Why there needed to be someway to capture something as precious as this, some method of preserving something so idyllic and beautiful and pure and perfect.

Perfect like the cool, fresh water of the lake. Their lake. Their place. The flowing, breathing water she felt around her waist. They floated around, her and Bucky, as light as air in that lake.

The two were weightless, adoration suspended in animation. The water preserved the feeling of feather light kisses and chests pressed together and hands beginning to roam. If only she could be closer to him. Her fingers in his hair and his palms on either side of her face wasn't enough. She needed more. More, more, more of him.

Skin is so soft and the sun is so warm and soon enough, the water was up to her shoulders as his arms ran up her back. Arms plural, she noticed. He held her with both, protectively enclosing the longing feeling between them.

"Oh, fucking hell!" Y/N sprang up, throwing the blanket off of her.

She must've fallen asleep... and began to dream... She could imagine if her brain was a person, it'd be laughing at her for that.

Why? Why? What was the reason for this? There was no point! How frustrating! How embarrassing that her mind betrayed her with dreams of him.

"God damn it," she swore under her breath.

She wanted to angrily shake her fist in the air like vengeful cartoon character, as she got out of bed and headed towards her wardrobe.

It was 8 a.m. One hour until her meeting with Shuri. She would spend the time changing her outfit until it was distracting enough to draw her attention away from thoughts of that damn lake... and his damn hands...

—

"My friend!" Shuri greeted in her usual upbeat manner. "How are you? How are things?"

There was absolutely no way to answer this honestly.

"I'm doin' well. Same old, same old. How 'bout you?"

"Good as always," she smiled. "Thank you."

Y/N took a seat at one of the tables in Shuri's lab. "So how is T'Challa doing with Nakia?"

"Oh, who knows these days! He is so awkward, I have no idea!"

They both laughed. Y/N was glad she and Shuri were able to talk like this. They weren't just robotic colleagues who only communicated when they needed to. They were partners, and they worked well together.

The meeting commenced like it did every other week. Updates on Bucky's progress, new ideas or adjustments to treatment or planning, going over scans or data, you name it. But this time, she had something else in mind. Something that a dream reminded her of. She had mentioned maybe getting her hands on a prosthetic for Bucky. She wasn’t familiar with the prosthetics industry in Wakanda, but they could probably make something work.

Was that too much? Did she care too much? Was she showing too much regard for him? Was this too much to ask of her?

"Hey, remember a couple weeks ago when I talked about prosthetics?"

"Of course," Shuri smiled. She genuinely enjoyed her partner - her partner who was intelligent, confident, and articulate but still sometimes sounded shy. "You wanna see what I've been working on?"

"You... you ordered one? I didn't-"

"Oh, no. Not ordered. Just you wait," she said, pulling out a drawer to dig amongst papers. "I've been workin' my magic."

Shuri pulled out a manilla folder that had W.W. - Proj. 1 printed on it.

She dropped the folder in front of the psychologist who sat across from her, gesturing for her to look through it. Y/N opened it to see several pages of prosthetics research, information on cybernetics and various designs for a bionic arm.

"Oh... wow." Y/N marveled.

"What do you think?"

"It's incredible," Y/N shook her head. "I didn't- ... I thought you meant you bought one or something. I didn't know you designed one"

"I didn't just design it. I made it."

"You- what?"

"Yep. First model ready for use. Do you want to see it?"

"I'd love to."

Shuri walked her over to a large, rectangular case in the side of the lab.

"Holy shit," she let slip.

The arm was astounding: a glossy black with ridges etched in a shiny gold. It glimmered, sitting in its casing.

Shuri laughed. Thank you."

"Sorry. Excuse my French. This is... remarkable. Can I give it to him?"

"I suppose so. It hasn't got much use just sitting in my lab."

Excitement grew in her chest. Bucky would be able to have an arm he was in control of, one that wasn't forcefully attached to him and used as a weapon. In a way, he would be gaining a sense of autonomy. God, she wanted to see him right away and tell him the news. She was happy to make Bucky happy.

"Oh," Shuri perked her head up. "And there was something else I wanted to talk to you about."

"Yeah, what's up?"

"You're aware of the trigger words, correct?"

"Of course."

"I'm close to fully deconstructing the mind control, but there's no way to know for sure unless we test it out..."

Oh. The excitement dissipated and her stomach dropped. She didn't mean...

"You don't mean..."

"The effect and response of the words needs to be tested on him."

Oh God. There was no way this would be easy.

"And you need to be the one to do it."

Fuck.

"Me?" she tried to hide her shock, her worry, her now overwhelming urge to protect him. "How come?"

"It seems like he trusts you most out of everyone here. I consulted with the Doras about safety and we think that if something were to go wrong, it'd be safest to happen with you. Of course they'll be nearby, but you'd be the one mostly likely to be able to control him in that state."

Her mouth went dry. Control him? She could never. She would never. She knew, in depth, the anguish he carried in his bones as a result of being trapped as a weapon wielded by other people. The thought of her controlling him made her skin crawl.

She knew how much he feared the Winter Soldier and how he would hate losing touch with himself again. He's been free from this kind of violation for a while now; she had very much rather not take that freedom away.

At the same time, she understood how this test was necessary for a full recovery and rehabilitation. And who knows if the words will even work? Maybe she'll say them and nothing will even happen.

He would have to get over this obstacle in order to make it to the other side clean. She could only imagine how scary this would be for him. But she'd be damned if she wasn't going to be right there with him.

"Okay," she said dryly. "When... when are we gonna do this?"

"Not yet but soon. I'll keep you updated."

The rest of the meeting carried on as usual, but Y/N might as well have not even been there. Her mind was off. Off somewhere trying to think of how to tell Bucky the news. The very last thing in the world she wanted to do was hurt him. She'd take his place if she could.

—

As soon as she was free from the calm, professional facade she had going with Shuri, she found herself speed walking back to where Bucky was. She needed to get to him. Now.

When his hut was in sight, she was nervous. She was nervous before, she supposed. She just wanted everything to be okay.

"Buck," she called, a few steps away from the entryway. "I need to talk to you!"

When she stepped inside she froze in place, staring blankly at the two super soldiers in front of her instead of the one she expected. Two as in Bucky and Steve.

"Y/N," Bucky stood up. He sounded surprised.

"Oh-uh," she stuttered. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt. I can come back later."

"That's okay," Steve's voice was gentle. "I'll leave you... to it."

Steve threw Bucky a look she couldn't quite decipher before he left. Bucky just looked panicked.

And soon enough they were alone. They stood directly in front of each other, but with a noticeably awkward amount of space between them. The tiny part of her brain that was still mulling over the dream wanted him closer.

"Hey," he said softly.

"Hey..."

"You wanted to talk?"

"Yeah," she breathed. "It's uh... there's kind of a lot."

"Look, about yesterday, I-"

Oh. She completely forgot about that. Well, not completely. There was no way she could forget that. But, at the moment there were more pressing matters on her mind.

"It's not about yesterday."

"It's...not?"

"No. I have good news and bad news. Which do you want first?"

"Uh... bad news?"

She took a steady breath in. She wasn't sure exactly how to tell him, she just knew he needed to know. He deserved nothing but the truth.

"So, I was just with Shuri and we discussed the next step in your treatment..."

He said nothing, waiting for the aforementioned "bad news." She continued.

"Apparently, we have to test the trigger words on you..."

His expression dropped and she watched all the color drain from his face.

"I know. I'm sorry. I don't wanna do it, but we have to do it to see if it's really outta your head."

"Yeah, that's the problem," he finally spoke. "What if it's not? Then I hurt someone - or multiple people. There's gotta be some other way to test it."

"You're not going to hurt anyone. Or multiple people."

"How can you say that?"

"It's just gonna be the two of us."

"What?!"

"Shuri thought the safest way of doing this was for me to conduct the test. That way, if things ever got out of hand, which is very unlikely to happen, I'd be the best bet at... handling... that situation. Since you know me the best."

"No way. There's no way. I thought you meant they were gonna strap me down and have some lab tech read them. This is way too unsafe-"

"Strap you down? Bucky, no-"

He still saw himself as an animal that needed to be contained. Muzzled.

"What if I hurt you?" his voice shook just a little.

The fear in his eyes was potent. It made her angry. Angry at Hydra and whoever the fuck else had a hand in this sin against the kind and gentle man who stood before her. The man who was genuinely scared of himself. How dare they make him feel so unsafe within his own mind, within his own body. All she wanted to do was make it better, and suddenly, she could no longer stand for the distance between them. She stepped forward and grasped his hand between both of hers.

"I trust you, Buck," she smiled a small but earnest smile, letting him know that she truly was here for him. "Entirely. I promise. Okay?"

He nodded, still reluctant and entirely scared.

"Do you trust me?" she asked.

"I do. I trust you, I do," he cast his glance downwards, almost in shame. "It's myself I don't trust."

Her chest twisted with an emotion difficult to place. Mostly, it was the desire to take every ounce of pain away. She wished she could just snap her fingers and make it fade into nothing.

"That's okay," she said.

He looked back up at her, confused.

"You don't have to trust yourself. That's hard enough as it is and Hydra didn't make it any easier. You just trust me, alright? I'm the one reading the words, so, even though I'd hate it, if you were to be... activated... you'd be listening to me not trying to fight me," she squeezed his hand. "And I will not let anything happen to you."

"I'm not worried about me..."

She knew. She was not stupid; she knew that Bucky was separate from the Winter Soldier and that theoretically, the Winter Soldier - and only the Winter Soldier - had the potential to hurt her. She wasn't blind to the dangers, but she also wasn't blind to the fact that there was no exact science to brainwashing. Whos to say nothing could ever seep through the programming? She knew what happened with Bucky when he was forced to fight Steve for the first time. How it changed him.

Even though the Winter Soldier was in there, there was more of Bucky. She knew that for sure. And she needed to make sure he knew one thing: even if the Winter Soldier was trying to claw his way back and entire world was against him, she saw Bucky and trusted Bucky and believed in Bucky. She was a constant. And she wouldn’t give up on him.

"What, you're worried about me?" she joked, lightheartedly. She took the hand she was holding and pressed it against her cheek. "This wouldn't hurt me, James Buchanan."

He sighed, feeling the warmth from her face. He did not deserve this kindness and he definitely did not trust himself despite her trust in him. Of course Bucky would never hurt her. But Bucky wasn't the Winter Soldier. And he didn't have the heart to tell her what the Winter Soldier could or would do. He didn't have the stomach to even think about what would happen if the Winter Soldier actually did something.

But there was something about the way she believed in him, the way her conviction was so strong. It made him almost start to doubt these feelings. He could never be sure of everything being okay, but at least he could be sure of her.

"Okay," he whispered.

"Okay?"

"I'll do it."

"Alright," she smiled.

She removed his hand from her face, but still held onto it.

"And even if you did try to fight me, I think I could go a couple rounds in the ring with the Winter Soldier. I'm big and tough."

They both laughed knowing she had very minimal fight training.

"You'd definitely kick my ass," Bucky chuckled.

She just smiled. And then her eyes grew wide.

"Oh! You wanna know the good news?"

"F'course."

Bucky watched her briefly disappear through the entryway before returning with a big, rectangular case. He raised an eyebrow.

"That's good news? What is it, a bomb?"

"I don't do bombs... arson only."

The look on his face made her wonder if he actually questioned whether or not she was serious. She fought laughter as she opened the case. It was silent for a moment. Y/N looked at him, waiting for a reaction.

"Is that... for me?"

"All yours, Buck. A favor I asked of Shuri."

She told him about the arm. Told him about Shuri's design, and the features and functionality. She didn't mention what made her think to ask Shuri, but that surely wasn't important.

"It's really cool, and like super sleek and badass. But more importantly, it will make you feel more... I don't wanna say regular 'cause nothing about you is regular," a shy smile slipped. "But more... how you're used to having your body feel and function."

"That's..." he shook his head before looking up and making dauntingly deliberate eye contact. "Thank you. For thinkin' of me. I mean it. I hope it wasn't too much trouble for her to make it."

"Nothin's too much trouble, Bucky. You're worth it."

"You're a real peach, y’know that?"

Suddenly she looked abashed. Did he say something wrong?

"Sorry- I didn't-"

"No, it's okay. I just got a weird sense of déjà vu. Don't worry about it."

He looked at her like he didn't quite believe her, but she tried not to think too hard about it.

"So..." Bucky gestured towards the arm. "...what do we do with this?"

"You wanna try it on?"

His brows shot up. "Oh! I mean- sure- I guess so, yeah."

She tried to pick it up and nearly threw her back out. "Jesus!"

"Woah there, tiger," he withheld a laugh, putting a hand under the vibranium arm to hold most of its weight.

"Okay, sit down," she ordered, both of them fumbling to hold onto the arm. "Shuri told me how to get the arm on. There's some... magnetic thing. I don't even know - it was some complex engineering lingo. Not my field."

After a couple minutes, clumsy hands attempting awkward assembly, and several curse words later... the arm was attached. They both stood as Bucky stuck out the bionic arm, admiring it and Y/N leaned back, admiring him. Wow.

Bucky smiled, holding both his forearms out - palms facing up - to see how they moved. "This is incredible."

He turned to her. "You're incredible. Thank you."

"No problem at all," she stepped forward. "How does it feel?"

Her hands found their way below his, cupping the underneath of them with a feather light touch. "How do you feel?"

"More... balanced," he laughed. "Coordinated?"

"Steady?"

"Absolutely."

"Stronger?"

"Definitely."

She looked up at him. "Confident? More comfortable in your own skin? That's what's most important."

He gripped her hands. "For sure. Thanks to you."

"Glad I could help. Just wanna make you feel more like yourself, you know?"

"I feel the most like myself when I'm with you," he nearly whispered.

He smiled, and then did something... unexpected. He let go of one of her hands and with the other, he twirled her around as if they were dancing. She went along with the movement, body falling in sync it even though she was confused.

"You make me wanna dance again."

With his voice so endearing, and his heart so spirited, the world around them fell quiet. She stepped forward and rested her hand on his shoulder. Then she placed one of his hands on her waist, and held the other out to the side, fingers intertwined with hers. And oh, the feeling of his hands on her; it was nearly overwhelming.

"Then dance."

And they swayed. They swayed to nothing, to the sweet sound of finding comfort in another person. She let her eyes flutter shut, allowed her guard to come down for just a moment. Just this moment. With him.

Bucky broke the silence with a shy question. "So yesterday... what does that mean for-"

"Let's just keep it between us."

"What do you mean?"

"It was a moment - like this one. I think I think too much, and I may have overreacted before. It doesn't have to be some cumbersome ordeal. It's just us."

"We're good then?"

"We're good."

"Good. 'Cause I like this."

She inhaled and smiled at the feeling of him inside her lungs. They continued swaying as they continued talking.

"You were in my dream you know?"

"Was I?"

"You were."

"Could I fly?"

"No," she laughed. "You were - well we, actually, were walking to that lake."

"To swim?"

Not exactly...

"I don't know. It's kinda foggy and didn't make much sense since it was a dream but we were definitely there."

"Did I say anything existentially insightful?" he joked.

"I don't remember much of what we said, but I remember how it felt."

"How... how did it feel?"

There she went again. She could feel herself slipping, but found it hard to care. She closed her eyes, thinking back to hibiscuses and Bucky's arms.

"The water and sun on my skin felt kind of like this," her hands ran up his sides dangerously slow and settled behind his neck, finger tips tangling into the ends of his hair.

His breath faltered. "Is that so?"

Unconsciously, his other hand found her waist and somehow the little space between them grew even smaller.

"Mhm," she hummed. "and the sight of a flower in your hair felt kind of like this."

Her hands moved to cup his face, the soft skin of her palm settling on his jawline.

"It was so pretty," she sighed.

"Yeah... pretty," he agreed. But he wasn't talking about the dream or the flower.

"And... your arms and your hands... felt kind of like this."

Gently, she pulled his face down to hers, though he needed no guidance or encouragement. When their lips met, that feelings of incompletion and longing, which had been prickling the back of her mind since the previous day, finally went away. They dissolved into fingers pressing into her hips, soft stubble tickling her cheek, and the delightfully encompassing presence of him.

She wasn't sure how long it was until they separated and words were spoken again. All she really recognized what that she was out of breath.

"And to think I was going to apologize for yesterday," Bucky smirked.

"I had to return the favor."

"And I gotta make up for lost time"

"Well, please don't let me stop you."

And he didn't. They continued right where they left off, except this time, it felt much too similar to something she had felt before. Hands began to roam just like they did in her dream.

The only thing was, her dream was cut short. She had no idea how it ended. But his hands were everywhere and it was all her senses could register. He was everywhere: her lips, her neck, her collar bones. She was burning.

The air ran out of her chest, and her voice was barely a breathy sigh. "Don't stop."

She could feel his smile on her skin. "Wouldn't dream of it."

-

The next morning, she awoke entwined in his arms - both of them.

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