#i'm in constant shambles for these two

[schneiderenjoyer]

Was browsing through the wiki to get some reference and I've always found it interesting that Portrayals gave off the hint that Vertin captures their form's essence (through film most likely) and the descriptions of them are insight of the character from Vertin's perspective.

If we go by that logic...Schneider's Portrayal description ruins me.

[unproduciblesmackdown]

and i draw parallels solely on the cinematographic basis of “when my man is no more than a millimeter away from perturbation at all times but you give the Whole Right Half Of The Screen 3/4 Closeup of Harrowing Recontextualizations” like that’s right. we’re living it up

[fake-bleach]

HOTEL ROOM | SOLDIER BOY x READER

"babysitting" a nearing hundred year old supe wasn't your ideal day, nor was it ever on your bucket list. but, maybe it'll be worthwhile.

word count: 7k

WARNINGS/DISCLAIMERS: (18+ only!) fem!reader, slight slow burn but very much worth it, porn w/ somewhat much plot & angst/fluff, praise/degrading, use of pet names (honey, baby, sweetheart, etc), drugs i.e. snorting shit (oops, but what else did u expect w/ him..), handjob, piv, unprotected gradual rough sex, tiny bit of hair pulling, coming inside, i thinkk that might be it? happy ending :p another disclaimer: soldier boy's def much softer/vulnerable here cus i feel like reader can change him :) (i'm delusional) :) hope u enjoy! <33

ao3 link! | my masterlist

it’s not like you wanted to babysit. 

and by babysit, i mean watching a 100 year old supe that was still very much alive and well. did i also mention that he was an asshole?

probably not, but you should know that too.

“butcher! no fucking way, there's no fucking way i’m doing this shit!”

you whispered loudly in the british man’s face, trying to make sure that supe couldn’t hear you. but, god, what could that man not do?

butcher rolled his eyes at you, that constant, smug smirk plastered on his face as he shook his head. “oh, c’mon love. you’ll be fine. all he’ll do is watch the telly, snort some shit, and talk ya’ ear off,” he laughed as he stared at your annoyed expression, “i need you here, anyway. can’t have anything happen to you, you got that?”

you turned away from him for a moment, crossing your arms and glancing at the infamous man sat on the hotel bed. you bit the inside of your cheek, sighing out as your head hung low, staring at the floor. for once, you just wanted butcher to take you seriously. to bring you along for the important shit, not this.

but, what else could you do?

you moved to face him again, letting out a noise of disapproval, but your words showing otherwise. “fine, fine, okay. just this one fucking time, okay? you owe me.” you spoke loudly now, your irritation extremely evident.

“oh, come on, doll. am i really that bad?”

soldier boy’s ben’s voice made you flinch; his booming voice sending a rush throughout your body. one part of you was afraid, and the other annoyed. you whipped your head to look at him, his large frame stood in front of you now. he was more than just large; he was powerful.. intimidating. and you’d be lying to yourself if he wasn’t at least a.. little attractive to you. but, you couldn’t let that affect you.

he also had an unbearable ego that practically everyone around him could sense, his arrogant smile directed towards you nearly making your blood boil. 

“considering how much of a conceited asshole you are, i’d say yes,” you bit back at him, returning a condescending grin in response.

ben whistled then, his smile never faltering as he took in your powerful presence and words. “phew! she’s a feisty one, yeah? she yours or is she for the taking?” he teased butcher as a low laugh erupted from him, making you groan. to your surprise, though, his question sounded genuine.

“oh, fuck you! i’m not anyone’s!” you let out, tightening your crossed arms as your eyes moved to butcher. he all but laughed, pursing his lips as he shook his head at ben, pausing for a moment. “oi, play nice you two. can’t be coming back to this room in shambles..” his eyes flickered between you and ben, licking his lips, “but, to answer your question; no, she ain’t, but good luck tryin’, mate. i tried it myself.”

you punched butcher’s shoulder at that, scoffing. “don’t encourage him, you asshole.”

butcher laughed, raising his hands in surrender and giving you an almost apologetic look as he backed up, starting to walk towards the hotel room door. “alright, bye now, love. and you–” he pointed towards ben, his face hardening for a second, “behave, will ya?”

you watched him open the door, shutting it behind him as dread filled your every being. you turned to ben again, his eyes already fixed on you with that same smirk.

“oh yeah, i’ll definitely behave.”

only a few hours in, and you already feel like you’re going insane.

a ton of snarky remarks and about a million snorts of cocaine later, you’re just fighting the throbbing headache that’s building up. hell, anyone would feel the same in your position.

ben was sitting at the small table, you at the end of the bed right next to it, surrounded by fast food and pills. using the end of his knife, he was crushing the small tablets on the table, turning them into fine, white powder. it made you cringe, to say the least.

you watched him as he lined it up, sliding his nose through it eagerly as he sniffed, snorting the line completely. he let out a groan of satisfaction, the white powder stuck on his skin as the high he so desperately craved filled his body.

you let out a quiet chuckle to yourself, shaking your head. for one of the greatest supes in the history of mankind, he was certainly a treasure.

not.

“what are you laughin’ at, huh?” ben looks at you, his face firm as he poses the question. your lips flip, pursing, then frowning slightly as you shake your head. “oh, nothing, nothing. you just.. love that shit, don’t you?” you accuse, a small chuckle escaping your lips again.

his face shifts, a faint smile presented. “what? you want some, is that it?”

“oh no, god no. don’t want any coke of yours, no thank you.” you turn him down instantly, almost as if you couldn’t dream of it.

he laughs now, the deep gravel in it making you shudder slightly. “s’not cocaine, sweetheart. something like it, yeah, but not coke,” he informs you, watching intently as you return your attention to him, interest piquing. you didn’t know much about these kinds of drugs, surprisingly enough considering the people you surrounded yourself with, but you weren’t completely innocent.

he takes notice of your sudden curiosity; your eyes widening just a tad bit more than usual. the way your body language shifts. he notices it all.

cocking his head slightly, he lets out a small chuckle again. “you ever done drugs before, sweetheart?” he asks sincerely, wanting to know. you deny, shaking your head, “no, i mean– i’ve smoked weed maybe once, but i don’t know– never had a reason to do it again, i guess.”

he raises an eyebrow at that, leaning back against the chair he was sat in and crosses his arms. “that so? i’m shocked,” he hums, biting the inside of his cheek at he stares at you, “powerhouse like you, i woulda’ expected you to do allll that crazy shit.”

you snort, looking at him in disbelief. “you got the wrong idea of me then, soldier boy.” you tell him, emphasizing his name. boost his ego a bit more for the fun of it, y’know?

he snickers, staring at you as if you were some puzzle he needed to solve. “do i?” he pushes, leaning a bit forward, “i don’t think i do.”

you roll your eyes at him. “and why’s that?” 

he breathes out, grinning even wider. “sweetheart, you’ve got it written all over you.”

your eyebrows furrow at him, confused. the fuck did he mean by that?

before you could question him, he beats you to it, laying it on you.

“i mean, your attitude with butcher earlier? i don’t know about you, but that don’t sound like someone who takes shit.” he scoffs, his eyes locked on you as he pauses.

“...and you’re not taking any of mine, are you?”

you breathe out through your nose, licking your drying lips and taking in his words. “no, no i guess i’m not,” you admit, appreciating the slight bit of generosity from him, “but, what’s that gotta do with me and your drugs?” you laugh, unable to connect the two.

ben shakes his head, uncrossing his arms and moving his forearm on top of the table, leaning on it. “you’re a curious one, aren’t you? that’s why you didn’t wanna stay with me, right? y’wanted to go out there, save the fuckin’ world, huh?” he inquires, giving you the perfect opportunity to tease him instead of taking him seriously.

“well, no. i actually didn’t wanna stay with you because you’re an–”

“stop being a fuckin’ nag and answer the question.”

his voice booms in your ears, the direct intimidation from him working on you like a charm. you swallow, eyes shifting to look at the table for a moment before returning to him. 

“fine, whatever, i guess you’re right, yeah, i’m.. curious. but, fuck..” you lick your bottom lip, shaking your head as you stare out in front of you, “you try being part of this shit for years, and not being given any opportunity to..” you trail off, huffing.

“to be a hero?” ben questions.

you turn to him now, sad eyes staring into his own. “to be a hero.”

he shakes his head, wiping his mouth and nose as he inhales sharply. “you don’t want that life, kid. trust me.”

your jaw falls open a bit at him, your voice rising, “what the hell do you know about what i want? you don’t know me.”

he huffs, his hand pressing into his knee as leverage as his body leans in towards you, scoffing.

“the fuck did i go through? huh? i was asleep for decades, sweetheart. much before that, i was tortured and experimented on and treated like a piece of fucking meat. an animal.” you stare at him sadly, your demeanor falling as he looks at you with hardened eyes.

“being a fuckin’ hero..” he shakes his head, laughing as his head lowers to look down at his lap, “look where the fuck that got me.” he mutters out, his upper lip twitching as he breathes heavily.

silence fills the room between you two as the faint background noise from the television whirs. you didn’t know what to say. you just knew that maybe.. you were wrong about soldier boy– ben.

he was avoiding your gaze, his chest rising and falling in an attempt to calm himself down. you swallow, pursing your lips. “ben.. i’m sorry you went through that, i really am,” you began, causing him to lift his head at you, “but.. that doesn’t change the fact that you’ve helped people. you’ve saved people. and, yeah, maybe sometimes you weren’t the good guy, but.. you’ve done more than what a lot of people would.”

he looks at you with doe eyes, taking in your little speech. he nods, and it’s almost as if he can’t possibly believe you, but he does. he decides to trust you as your words give him the slightest bit of hope in his heart. an emotion he hasn’t felt all these years.

he sniffs suddenly, clearing his throat and shaking his head as if he were shaking himself out of it. “yeah, well, maybe you’re right. still wouldn’t want yo–” he pauses, cutting himself off, “uh, y’know, going through that.”

you give him a small smile, understanding him completely. it was hard for him to be vulnerable; you knew that now. but, you appreciated his efforts nonetheless. it made you see him.. differently. the way he spoke to you about his experiences.. you wondered if there truly was a good man underneath that harsh persona.

“well, thank you.. soldier boy.”

“oh, stop with that shit. ben.”

you smile. “ben.”

“alright, love. m’ sorry, i promise i’ll make it up to you, yeah?”

you groan into the phone held against your ear, picking up the words of the same british man on the other end of the line. god, i’m never letting him off the hook, you thought to yourself. 

“okay, yeah, whatever.”

“don’t stay mad at me–”

you cut him off, “bye, butcher.”

“bye, love.”

you hear him end the phone call, the sound making you throw your phone down on the bed irritatedly. “the fuck happened?” ben asks you as he sits up on the bed, putting the remote down from surfing through channels with you for hours now. it was nighttime before you knew it, and you spent most of the day talking to ben here and there, as well as watching random shows and movies. certain topics were definitely touchy, but you were starting to get to know him more, and him with you.

you huff, walking over to the empty side of the bed to sit down next to him, crossing your arms. “we gotta stay here for the night. butcher n’ hughie are being held up with some.. shit, and don’t want us leaving without them.”

he lets out a chuckle towards your frustration. “don’t see a problem with that.”

you roll your eyes, turning to face him. “of course you don’t, you’re like– a million years old. i’m bored!” you whine, groaning. you don’t mean to act immature or fussy, but fuck, you were younger than him and needed other kinds of entertainment to survive (dramatically put). shitty television just wasn’t doing it for you.

he scoffs, “oh, fuck you. i can be plenty of fun, doll.”

“oh, yeah? prove it.” you reply, raising an eyebrow.

he smirks at you then, leaning in a bit closer as his face grows snarky. “you want me to show you fun?” he teases.

you groan, grimacing, “ugh, grossss..” you draw out, swallowing sharply as you turn away.

what you didn’t want to do was recognize the butterflies you felt at the thought. or the way your heart skipped a beat at him growing closer towards you. fuck, no.

he snickers, eyes still fixed on you completely. “oh, c’mon, honey. y’know i’m a great fuck. n’ besides.. it’s been awhile..” he teases you further, and he makes it sound so sleazy that it feels like a joke; fuck, maybe he really was just trying to rile you up.

you shake your head though, playing along. “nice try, ben. gonna have to try harder than that, though.” you stand your ground, giving him a faux smile.

he raises his hands in surrender, shrugging his shoulders. “hey, i’ll fuckin’ work for it, baby, i’ll tell you that much.” he admits, grinning at you.

you try your hardest to keep your composure, fighting the heat growing in your face, especially with that new nickname he gives you. a weak spot.

fuck. this was gonna be much harder than you thought.

you’re finishing the leftover fries that ben requested earlier, snagging them from his side as you laid next to him on the bed; cold and soggy, and definitely not appetizing, but you’re working with what you’ve got. you feel the bed shift before looking up at ben, his eyes on you as he moves.

“so, other ideas of fun..” ben trails, standing up from the bed and walking towards the table.

“i’m listening..” you curiously give in.

he grabs his knife, pouring out the remainder of his pills, and starts to crush them, noticing the way his eyes look up at you, eyebrows raised.

“you do a line with me. just one–” he suggests, his attention focused to see how you’ll react. “and you can loosen up for fuckin’ once.”

you grimace at his suggestion, denying him immediately. “no, ben, i don’t.. i don’t know. this isn’t my kind of thing, you know that..” you speak, evidently unsure of the act. come on, snorting some random, crushed up pills? didn’t sound like much fun to you.

he puts the knife down, turning his entire body to fully face you now. “hey, you said you were curious, didn’t you?” he raises an eyebrow, “doesn’t hurt to try it once. besides.. you can trust me, can’t you?” he teases, a sly smile on his face.

you huff, “yeah, sure. sure i can.” you joke at him, sarcasm filling your voice entirely. your face drops though, seriously contemplating his inquiry. “okay, seriously, though. it won’t fuck me up.. completely, right?”

he laughs at your question, his low voice rumbling. “not unless you take more than you can handle, baby.” he tells you, starting to crush the pills again. “i’m right here, though. i’ll getcha’ through it. promise.”

you were shocked at how.. kind he was being with you. how utterly careful he was with you now. it was odd, to say the least. but, you liked this side of him. maybe that’s why you were starting to feel so comfortable with him now.

you think about it for a few seconds longer before ultimately coming to a decision. “i.. okay, okay. just once.” you agree, nervously standing up from the bed and approaching the table, pulling up another chair to sit next to him.

fuck it. what else did you have to lose?

sitting down, you watch carefully as he proceeds to crush up the pills, examining how fine the powder turned. ben uses the knife to separate it, forming some of it into a line that was a bit shorter than what you saw him repeatedly snort earlier. 

was he making sure he wasn’t giving you too much? maybe. you didn’t want to think of it too much.. his intentions. you couldn’t. 

you swallow tensely, eyes flickering from the table to his face as he finishes, his own setting themselves on you. he gives you a small smile; an almost encouraging kind, providing you with a bit of comfort.

he raises an eyebrow at you. “you ready?”

“uh,” you stammer out, biting your bottom lip, “what exactly.. is it, though? i mean, what’s it gonna do to me?” you ask warily, second thoughts arising in your head.

he sighs out as he attempts to think of what to say. “these here are bennies, as we call em’. or, well– what i call em’,” he lets out a small laugh, cocking his head, “they’re amphetamines. they’ll just.. give ya’ a bit more energy.. that euphoria people talk about,” he explains to you as thoroughly as he can, “shouldn’t last too long, n’ if anything, you can try to sleep it off, sweetheart. no harm, no foul.”

he watches your face as you absorb his answer, noticing your features relax with each second that passes. he grins even more, listening to you.

“okay.. okay, doesn’t sound.. too bad. let’s do it,” you quickly spur out, shaking yourself out of it. “fuck it.”

“atta girl.” he gleames, his hand lifting to rub your upper back gently for just a moment; a moment long enough to send chills down your spine. the first time he’s really made any physical contact with you, and you’re already a mess. 

fuck, why did that feel good? why did that sound good? it was a harmless gesture.

you need that high, and you need it now. maybe that was the only way you could get through this long ass night with him.

“okay. do i just.. sniff it, uh?” you ask him, letting out an embarrassed laugh as your lips turn upwards. he nods, his own lips curling. “don’t overthink it. you’ve seen me do it a hundred times now,” he tells you confidently, muttering out the last words, “y’know what to do, honey.”

you just nod, leaning your head forward and slowly putting your nose against the right side of the line. before you can allow yourself to back out, you slide your nose towards the left, snorting it completely. you lift your head up, an abrupt cough escaping your throat as your nose burns, your eyes rolling back before shutting tightly.

“oh, there you fucking go. there you go, baby, there you go..” ben softly praises you, his words almost echoing in your ears as your head thumps. his hand returns back to your skin as he rubs your back in circular motions, your breathing growing heavy as you feel the drug enter your system.

“oh, fuck, ben, what the fuck!” you let out, a laugh escaping your throat as your head grows hazy. you turn to him, his hand still rubbing your back, which was definitely helping, and you grin widely. “that was fucking crazy!” you all but yell, excitement getting the best of you. what a way to show your experience, huh?

he chuckles, shaking his head as he stares at you. “alright, don’t get ahead of yourself, peaches. barely gave you half of what i’d normally do,” ben tells you, teeth bare as his smile widens, “that’s enough shit for you, little lady. can’t be too much of a bad influence on ya’, can i? butcher would rip me a new one.. or he’d try, at least.”

you giggle at that, your composure slowly, but surely, fading. “oh ben, aren’t you supposed to be a big n’ bad supe?” you breathe out, “he’s just a man.. and you’re a.. superhero.. y’wouldn’t let him..” you murmur out, eyes dazed out as you look at the man in front of you. his scruffy beard.. his messy hair.. the details in his skin.. fuck.

was he always this pretty?

you giggle again, his hand slowly lowering to the midst of your back to rest there. he chuckles lowly; an action that makes your breath hitch. “oh, sweetheart.. you’re feeling it already, aren’t you? quicker than i thought..” he trails off, cocking his head, “you think i’m some big, bad supe? s’that it?” he teases, lips curling up as he breathes you in, inching just a tad bit closer. “think i wouldn’t let him get one in?” he whispers.

you shake your head, smile dropping as your face hardens. “no, no, i wouldn’t, nuh uh,” you deny, biting your lip as energy suddenly surges through you, your filter entirely out the window. “i’ve seen you, you know? i mean, who hasn’t? videos of.. the way you fight.. you’re strong..” you mutter, swallowing as you giggle again, “so strong.”

he laughs, his index and middle finger connecting to rub subtle circles on your skin, “have you now?” he asks almost matter-of-factly, “you did research on me, baby?”

your stomach drops a bit, butterflies storming your stomach at the nickname again. you stammer out, “no, no, not research– i mean– yeah, i.. searched you up, but i jus’ wanted to see who you were before i.. came here, but.. s’not like i.. put that much thought into it, i–” you spit out, an involuntary laugh erupting from you as your cheeks heat up from your confession. a lie that escapes straight through your teeth.

oh god. why the fuck were you saying all of this shit outloud? stop!

he shrugs, a sly frown swift on his lips. “don’t gotta make a fuss about it, honey. s’cute. real sweet of you..” he grins, the hand so glued onto your back sliding down sleekly, fingers gripping onto your hip now. you gasp softly at the sudden touch, his grasp on you pulling you just a bit closer to him. your chairs are right next to each other, hips nearly joined together now. he whispers out, his mouth close enough to catch your ear, “sweet girl like you.. i’m honored you think of me that way. wouldn’t have suspected it from how feisty you were earlier.”

you roll your eyes at him, avoiding the flutter in your core as the drug builds up inside of you, fighting it. “oh, come on. you probably used to get this shit all of the time.”

he breathes out, shaking his head. “not from people i want it from..” his jaw falls open as his eyes flicker from your eyes to your lips, murmuring, “..not from you.”

your breath hitches in your throat, turning your head to look at him as your cheeks flush. you gulp, heartbeat quickening as you notice his gaze entirely locked on you. he was being serious. this wasn’t some kind of sick game of his.

you remain quiet, unsure how to respond. too nervous, too dazed to come up with some snarky remark you usually would; that you should bite back with. but, you don’t.

instead, ben’s fingers dance on your hip subtly, his other hand lifting up to caress your face; his thumb gliding against your cheek, trailing down to your bottom lip as his gaze that was once on your eyes fixes onto your mouth.. gorgeous as ever.

his thumb catches itself on your lip, pulling it down gently as he hums, satisfied. you gulp, shaking your head gently as you process what this was leading up to.

“ben.. we shouldn’t..” you whisper out, shutting your eyes for a moment as you pull away from him; just enough to have his hold off of your face. he was a fucking supe, for christ sake. you were human. and sooner or later, he’d be gone again; just like that. you couldn’t. no matter how much you so desperately craved it.

he lets out a disappointed noise, breathing out through his mouth, “why not, sweetheart?” he closes in on you again, lips near your ear as he hums, “don’t you like me, baby? don’t you want me? i like you.. n’ i sure as hell.. need you..” he sighs out, his hot breath hitting the sensitive skin on your neck, your body trembling at the feeling.

you groan softly at his words and the touch of his breath against your skin, shutting your eyes tightly. he huffs, pushing his nose softly against your neck, inhaling your scent and rapidly muttering out, “c’mon, baby, c’mon.. gonna take care of you, yeah? make you feel good, don’t y’want that?” he presses kisses on your neck, slowly trailing up to your cheek as his hands move to cup your face, quiet gasps escaping your lips. your eyes open up hazily, rolling to the back of your head as you lift your neck just enough to give him more room.

you don’t even think before you’re pressing a sloppy kiss to his lips, quietly moaning into it as your eyes flutter shut again; your disoriented mind taking over your body completely. he groans against your mouth, his soft lips becoming so harsh against yours, needy and having been deprived of this pleasure for so long.

he pulls away from the kiss for a moment, allowing the two of you to catch your breath as his large hand grips your face, the hold on it tight and rugged. he turns your head to the side, moving in to attack your neck once more with his lips, teeth grazing the skin as he grunts, his body closing in entirely.

it’s primal; instinctive and downright dirty the more he grows impatient. no longer gentle; not him, not now. he all but stands as he leans into you, his free hand moving from your back to your hips, wrapping his arm around you as he uses his super strength to lift you up effortlessly. you yelp as he picks you up, placing you directly on his lap as he settles himself back in his chair, your legs hung around his sides to the best of your ability.

“pretty fucking girl.. you stay right here..” he murmurs out, returning his kisses on you as if his seamless actions were nothing. his hands move to grip your hips tightly now, pushing you further into his lap as you involuntarily grind into him; his cock through those grey sweatpants of his beginning to harden.

“b-ben,” you stammer out, pants heavy as you let him touch you, feel you just how he wants, and you, taking him as you please. your hips and their movements quicken slowly, gradually building up and up the more your cunt throbs against his clothed skin; the way his strong hands keep you moving for him without a second to waste.

your cloudy mind from the drug intervenes with your control, unable to fully grasp your feelings or words that slip from your mind, keeping you completely vulnerable to the man below you. 

god, did that annoy you. 

but, fuck, did it feel so good.

“need you to fuck me, please, ben, please..” you whine out, grinding your core against his hardened cock faster, harder, your impatience getting the best of you. he laughs against your skin, a small moan seeping out of it as he gently bites your neck. “so needy, aren’t you, baby? gonna give you what you want, don’t you worry..”

the hands on your hips find themselves lowering, landing on your ass instantly as ben squeezes, groaning out at the feeling of your flush skin beneath his fingertips. he takes control of you easily, moving your body along his thighs and digging your cunt where he needs it the most. 

the constant friction makes you wetter with each push of his hands, his cock imprinting against his sweatpants with a perfect outline, your panties growing soaked at the sensation of it. an incoherent string of noises falls out of your lips, the gasps and moans sounding like porn to ben’s ears. a satisfied laugh from him shakes you to your core, that deep rumble multiplying your arousal.

you take matters into your own hands, fingers pushing down against his wrists to get him to loosen his grip on you, which he does. you scoot yourself back to disconnect your body from his abdomen, hips stilling on his thighs now, giving you an enticing view of the strain in his pants.

“i said..” you breathe out, mouth falling open as you look into his eyes, lust pouring out of them, “i need you to fuck me,” you emphasize, your fingers moving to palm his bulging cock through his sweats, “so, fuck me.”

you can’t be bothered anymore. you’re past waiting.

your hands slowly find a rhythm as you maintain eye contact with him, ben immediately reacting with a low moan as his hips thrust needily, “fuck, baby..” he hisses out as your fingers slip to the waistband of his sweats, your hand reaching beneath the layer. to your surprise, and delight; no underwear.

god, he was a fucking whore. you loved it. 

“jesus christ, ben,” you let out a laugh as you wrap your fingers around his cock, putting just enough pressure on it, and it makes him twitch against your touch. it elicits a throaty whine from his lips that has you clenching around nothing, squeezing him tighter, tighter. “jus’ take what you want, sweetheart, need you ‘round me, c’mon, ” ben spurs out rapidly, his words the least coherent they’ve been; his usual, old hollywood-esque diction in his voice gone. 

soldier boy, begging you with your hands on his cock and your ass in his lap? 

you couldn’t have possibly dreamt of this moment till now.

you try to hold yourself back, but the little amount of sobriety inside of you’s hardly strong enough to help you achieve that. no more waiting. not now.

“you’re lucky i’m impatient,” you breathe out, and before ben can react, you’re slipping his cock out of his sweats, the heavy weight of him on your hand sending you into a damn near spiral as he twitches against your fingers again, pre-cum practically leaking out of the tip.

you let go of him though, fingers desperately moving to the waistband of your loose sweats to slip them off. ben’s helping you immediately, lifting your hip for you with one hand, and the other hurriedly pushing them down, nearly ripping them off from the pace and force; off, off, off, he all but mutters out with eager noises.

“stupid fuckin’.. fuck, g’off–” ben grumbles until they’re successfully on the floor, and he sighs out in satisfaction, “no more fuckin’ waiting, n’more teasing.”

you nod hurriedly at him, bare legs exposed for him now as his fingers dig into your thighs, taking no second to waste to slide to the hem of your panties, fingers hooking onto them. “useless fuckin’ things,” ben murmurs, and before you can protest, he rips them off seamlessly, throwing them to the floor.

your jaw falls open, gasping out at him, “ben! fuck, i needed those! i didn’t pack any–” 

he shuts you up instantly, his thick index and middle fingers finding your slit, swiping through your soaked folds, and you whine loudly, the sensation making your core tighten. he hushes you softly, looking up at you eagerly, “shh, shh, honey, y’don’t need that shit with me, not now. gonna fuck you right here. now. you’re soaked already.” 

your heavy eyes stare into his own, nodding eagerly as the tip of his fingers bump against your clit, sending a jolt throughout your body. he moans with a short laugh, leaning in to press a messy kiss to your mouth, his other hand just above your ass. he taps your lower back, muttering, “come up here.. gonna have you sit on my cock.. get in as deep as i fucking can.”

you grunt at his words, whining, “fuck, please, ben..” as the sole thought of it sends pulses to your pussy. you nod frantically, immediately scooting closer on his lap to reach his member, kneeling on the sides of his body to lift yourself up. ben’s hand grips the base of his cock to lift it up, and he’s hard, the girth making you drool. you gulp, wondering how the fuck you’ll fit it in, but you’re too high to fucking care.

you position yourself above him, the fat head of it lined up to your cunt perfectly. his hand on your back helps you move closer, the tip nudging against your hole as both hands grip your hips now, fingers digging into your skin. you bite your lip as you look down at his cock, core tensing in preparation. staring into his eyes now, you move, lowering yourself slowly as your walls engulf him bit by bit, inch by inch.

both of you moan as you take him, clenching around him so much that you nearly see stars. you’re so tight around him, and he’s in heaven.

ben groans loudly as his eyes fix on your pussy, and it’s porn right in front of him. he sputters out mindless noises, gritting his teeth as you finally take him to the hilt, feeling his cock fill you up, nudging the deepest parts inside of you.

you hiss out as you sink, your thighs colliding with his own as you adjust to him. “you’re so fuckin’.. tight, oh fuck, sweetheart..” he whines out, and you’re relishing in this; in him. you start moving, hips involuntarily rocking against him as you move up and down. it’s messy; out of rhythm and desperate, but so fucking good.

“haven’t..” he grunts, gripping your hips harder for leverage, “fucked a pussy like this in a long fucking time.” his breaths grow louder the more you move, your throbbing hole just above the tip and slamming back down repeatedly. your core tightens as he starts to thrust up into you, meeting your synchronized movements immediately, and you cry out as you take it. 

you blabber out mindlessly at the sensation, incoherent whines and what seems to sound like ben’s name over and over again filling his ears, and he just laughs, lifting himself from the back of the chair to sit up, adjusting you with him. his chest meets your body, chin resting on your shoulder as his hand finds your hair, gripping it tightly and pushing your body into him. he’s flush against your skin as he huffs into your ear, the hot breath engulfing your brain. your fucked out head and blown, wide eyes.

he moves against you as you bounce on his cock, words spurring out with his harsh pants on your skin, fingers tightening into your hair, “no thoughts in this pretty head, huh? nothin’ but my fucking cock in this cunt. s’how it should be. pretty girls like you.. s’what you’re made for.. made for me.”

your head scrambles at his words; the way they’re so filthy, but most of all? 

because of how right he is.

he fits inside of you like a glove; a perfect hole that’s meant for him to fuck. it has your eyes lolling back over and over again, unable to truly focus on the task at hand. and when your movements begin to slow because of this, ben’s grip on you handles it for you, hips thrusting up into you aggressively. your stomach tightens repeatedly as the tip of his cock hits the deepest parts inside of you, practically bulging out with each hit into you, and it makes your pussy convulse around him, rambled noises escaping your lips.

“am i right, honey? are you made for me?” ben growls in your ear, his harsh grunts echoing, “fuckin’,” he huffs, “answer me..”

his words hardly register in your brain as you grow closer and closer to your release, short moans being the only thing you can muster out, along with a few noises that almost sound like ben’s name. “mmphf– b-be– ah–”

he shushes you, arms wrapped around your body, “don’t gotta think baby, just feel.. let me take you like this, just feel me..” ben whispers desperately into your ear, moving one of his hands to reach between you, the large palm pressing into your lower abdomen, “right fucking here. you’re gonna feel me for fucking days, baby.”

it has your stomach doing flips, body quivering against ben’s hold. your eyes shoot open as he begins to slow his thrusts, relying on pure power rather than speed now. his hips snap into you repeatedly, slow and deliberate as if he needs to make sure your body memorizes the shape of his cock.

and, knowing him? you probably will.

you know that you’ll never get fucked like this again. you know that you’re already completely ruined for any other man now. and a part of you’s okay with that.

his fingers gripping your hair. his hands digging into your skin. the strike of his hips, holding you captive for him as he takes you. how could you think of anything else?

ben’s power over you doesn’t relent at all, his super strength enough leverage to keep himself completely occupied. the hips slamming inside of you have you seeing stars now, your eyes threatening to twitch open in bliss as he buries himself in your throbbing cunt. you involuntarily flutter around him, walls pulsing as your core constricts.

you feel ben’s cock twitch inside of you, his moans growing heavier as he lets out a breathless laugh, “you’re so.. close, i can feel you, sweetheart..” he grunts and snarls, his thrusts quickening rapidly, “and you’re gonna come on my cock like the good girl you are.. while i fill you up.. make sure i stay in this sweet pussy forever.”

you cry out as that familiar heat in your stomach arises, blurting out nonsense, along with a, “p-please, ben, please–”, that leaves you panting.

“yeah, baby? want me to come inside of you, s’that it?”

you nod furiously, whining out as your face heats up at the thought, flush and its sensation overwhelming you. you’re hot all over, and you just need a release.

“that’s my girl.. my sweet girl. gonna come inside of you, give you what you need..” he breathes out against your ear, and before you realize it, you’re convulsing around his cock, yelping out as you come. your hands grip onto his back, his arms, anything you can hold onto as you ride through it.

“there we go, baby, just like that, my fuckin’ girl..” he encourages you, overstimulating you with his unrelenting hips as he buries himself inside of you over and over again, making you clench around him uncontrollably. you’re spewing out mindless moans as your walls spasm, and it makes ben whine. 

he grunts out rapidly, unable to control the noises he makes as his hands on your hips feel tight enough to leave bruises, “gonna.. gonna fuckin’, oh– fuck!–” he moans loudly, cutting himself off as he pushes you down to the hilt, cock twitching rapidly with his come spilling inside of you. you feel the streams of hot white bury inside of you, and you’re lightheaded at the feeling, the aftershocks of your orgasm forming tears in your eyes.

you whine against him as you hold on tight, his hips rocking into you as you both ride it out. it’s almost intimate at how breathless the two of you are, taking in each other completely.

he huffs against your skin, pressing a small kiss to your shoulder. it’s wordless, but it goes without saying. 

this was a moment you’d never forget. and you hoped that he wouldn’t either.

eventually, ben lifts your hips up, his cock sliding out of you as the mess you both made slips out of your cunt, making you whine at the feeling of his come falling out of you. the slick catches itself on his cock, spilling onto his grey sweats sloppily, and you can’t deny the twinge of arousal the sight brings you. leave that for another time.

you take a deep breath as you let out a small laugh, preparing to say something about getting up and cleaning yourself up, but to your surprise, ben’s arm holds onto your body tightly, lifting you up as his other hand shoves his sweats down, feet stepping out of them. he’ll deal with it later.

you yelp as he stands up fully with you in his arms, carrying you as he walks over to the shitty hotel bathroom, lowering you to stand in the bathtub. ben hums softly as he grabs a small rag, running warm water underneath it and squeezing out the excess water.

you’re in too much.. shock to bring yourself to say anything, but when he brings the rag to wipe your inner thighs and core, you let out a noise of surprise, cheeks warming up. who the fuck knew soldier boy could be so.. gentle?

he doesn’t look up at you as he continues. instead, he asks, “what? too hot?”

you let out a laugh, shaking your head. “no, just right.”

he lets out a satisfied noise as he finishes cleaning you up thoroughly, throwing the rag to the side as he grabs another one for himself, repeating the process. you watch him in awe as he does so, and you try your hardest to make sure you don’t fall in love with him.

but, when he carries you to the hotel bed and lays you down like you’re glass that might break, it seems a bit too late for that. and when he gets in that bed with you and holds you like his life depends on it? 

you know you’re done for, and you’re in for a ride.

[hedwig221b]

omg qween goddess supreme hedwig221b can you please, pretty please rec me some regency and/or historical sterek 🥹

hoping you have a good day/night (idk your timezone lol)

Hi, love! You know me so well... historical aus, my beloved 💜

When All the Pieces Fit by NARKOTIKA

"Does he even realize? With the cooking and cleaning andandand—now this fucking baby?" Isaac fumes. Said baby waves its fist in the air, and Stiles bends to haul him onto a hip. The baby babbles something and Stiles nods his head with complete seriousness, as if everything out of its mouth is perfectly sensible and coherent. Then the kid starts mouthing at Stiles' nipple through his dress and everyone goes dead silent. "I'm going to wife him so hard," Ethan announces, and they all break out into argument over who has the best chance at mating the boy in the river.

Elskende by DarkAthena (seraphim_grace)

Stiles is an omega concubine, kept sequestered away in the city of Beacon Hills, waiting for his lord Gerard Argent when the Wulver take the city and the alpha takes the omega.

Pride and Place by DarkAthena (seraphim_grace)

Derek Hale, Earl of Osterbrook, has inherited, following the death of Lord Montfort, a run down house in Yorkshire he neither needs nor wants, convinced his staff are robbing him, and with the mystery of a missing ward, he manages to get himself talked into a ridiculous bet, that he cannot pass as a steward until Midwinter, nearly two months away. So can he maintain the charade? Find the missing child? and manage to turn the shambles of a house around, or will he give up and let Peter take the thousand pounds he bet.

A Princely Knight by Dexterous_Sinistrous

He would stand by Stiles’ side, a constant shadow of protection until his death. A life for a life, one worth much more than an orphan turned thief turned royal guard could comprehend. In truth, Derek saw the one person he would gladly give his life for, because Stiles made this world better. ~*~ Or, Stiles is a prince and Derek is his knight.

Meant to be One by sunhazeheart

His nerves felt like a live wire was running hot beneath his skin, hands fidgeting with the silken material of his robe. If he had the concentration to spare, he might had worried about tearing it. It was all he could do to sit there at the vanity, eyes squeezed shut, and try to give in the constricting pressure around his chest that said that he was about to fall into a panic attack. Breath in. Breath out. His own heartbeat rushed in his ears. Being mated to the reclusive king with a frightening reputation to his name, bundled away from his home and father, and then surrounded by underwhelmingly distant faces hiding secrets was not how Stiles Stilinski imagine spending his life soon after turning eighteen. He can only remind himself that it is for the good of his people, both old and newly acquired. But, perhaps first assumptions are made too hastily and a fated match can be made, even surrounded by threats of war, revenge and death’s waiting embrace.

The Wolf Lord by mikkimouse

"You never know," Lydia said. "Perhaps the Wolf Lord will ask you to dance tonight." Stiles scoffed. "Oh, yes, of course he will. And then he'll transform into a giant black wolf and whisk me away to his estate to live happily ever after." He rolled his eyes at the thought. "Actually, I rather hope he does ask me to dance. I can tell him how ridiculous these masquerades are."

To Whom The Wolf King Bows by MadcapRomantic

Stiles Stilinski meets The Wolf King, the very boogeyman he'd spent his younger years terrified of; yet the man is little, if anything, like the tales he's heard. But, Stiles has spent the last ten years of his life as a slave, under the harsh whip of the cruel King Gerard Argent, and trusting Derek - trusting anyone - is beyond difficult.

Where the Shadow Ends by Green

Derek goes undercover to Delphi to figure out what's wrong with the oracle. He doesn't mean to fall in love.

The Hills Call

Five years ago, Prince Derek of the Hale Empire had fallen for the son of a Baron, Genim of Stilinski. His mother had not approved, and after some time imprisoned Genim escaped to the Dukedom of the Shore, where he was taken in by Duke Christopher and Lady Allison. Now, Prince Derek is on his deathbed from a poisoning and it is up to Genim, now called Stiles, to nurse him back to health. Wary of the Hale Empire, Stiles returns with their young son to see if he can heal Derek of his illness and escape the threats he still feels from the Empress herself.

The Light in the Woods by DiscontentedWinter

To honour a treaty with the people of a strange land, Derek Hale, prince of the kingdom of Triskelion, has to marry Stiles.

I encourage you heavily to go through the works of Dexterous_Sinistrous and DarkAthena (seraphim_grace), these two are my crushes and I am in awe of their work, it's so good. I could genuinely sit here and list dozens of their fics - I already did list some of my most beloved fics of theirs...

Other fic recs: pack mom!Stiles | angsty fics | possessive Derek | baby/mpreg | outsider POV | smut | mafia | hurt/comfort | magical!Stiles | Stiles gets kicked out of the pack | BAMF!Stiles | omegaverse | witch!Stiles | creature!Stiles | bad friend Scott

[americas-ass-writing]

Happy Ending

Steve Rogers x reader

Words: 1.3k

Warnings: some swear words

A/N: For @fluffystevefest last day (it went by so fast)! Thank you for doing this 🥰

I wrote this on my phone so there will probably be mistakes 😅

Devider by @saradika-graphics

Happy endings were something from fairytales. The real life didn't offer this. Steve would know. Every single piece of happiness was taken from him after way too short. His dad, his mom soon after, Bucky (who luckily returned to him), his own life. After trying to reclaim what he could of his life things looked better. He had friends, a found family, a sense of purpose... only for it to be taken far too soon. After the fight with Thanos everyone went their separate ways. Tony quit to be with his family, Natasha went on a lengthy solo mission. Sam and Bucky went on their own adventures after Steve gave the shield to Sam, too tired to continue being cap. Being someone he just isn't anymore. Thor went back to new Asgard. Bruce went to California. Which leaves Steve alone in New York. Alone to pick up the shambles of his and everyone else's life. Alone.

The only social contacts he has are Peter when he needs help with his history homework, the old man from across the hall who bakes too much and gives Steve some sweet treats every sunday and the stray cats in the alley behind the building that he feeds. And theres the people from the therapy group he leads... And of course the people on the street who absolutely seem to hate him and love to let him know.

Do his neighbors to the left that constantly fight so loud he hears every word count? Steve sighs as he hears then fight once more and he isn't strong enough to hold himself back. "Fucking finally break. up! The building is sick and tired of you two fighting! Move out!" He barks against the wall. Against the picture of him and his friends... who kind of broke up. No more avengers... No more found family. Steve blinks at the picture and mutters a sorry before someone bangs on his door. Great! It's probably the asshole from next door.

With another sigh he goes to open the door. The angry gnome from next door stops in his tracks, the red falling from his face faster than his eyes grow the size of dinner plates because of all people it was the ex captain America that just told him to fucking break up. "Uh..." Steve rolls his eyes at the stammering. "Listen, sorry for the profanities but damn I'm so annoyed at your constant fighting. Keep it down or I'll complain to the building manager." He says, his tone serious and the gnome nods as if Steve just gave him an order... Well maybe he did. Steves eyes flutter to the poor girlfriend who stands in the doorframe. She's cute. "You deserve better." Is all he says before he turns around, catches a glimpse of the old man, Stanley, across the hall and closes the door. He lets out another sigh and crawls back onto the couch. Silence at last... At least in his environment..his head is loud as ever as his eyes fall back on the picture of his found family. Maybe he should go visit Tony. Or maybe Clint on the farm? Maybe he could guilt trip them all to see him for his birthday? He purses his lips and is about to text them when there's a gentle knock on his door. He swears if it's that gnome again he'll punch him into the next century.

As Steve opens the door he's met with the most beautiful woman he's every seen. His eyes grow wider and his mouth opens slightly. "H...Hi! You don't know me, I just moved in on the other side of the loud apartment... I just uh... Thank you for making them shut up?" You give him and unsure smile and all he can do is nod and stare. Which makes you nervous. "I uh... I had the night shift and I should sleep but they were so loud I couldn't. I already knocked against the wall but that didn't stop them. So thank you again!" You ramble on, nervously wringing your hands. Something makes Steve snap out of it. "Oh! No problem... They annoy me a lot too, although I don't have... work..." He offers awkwardly and then he holds out his hand. "I'm Steve" you smile softly at that and put your hand in his, offering your name. He softly shakes it and maybe holds it for a bit too long, not that any of you care.

"I should let you get back to sleep. Night shift sounds awful. Exhausting job?" He asks with an easy smile. "Sometimes? It's just exhausting when you have the night shift immediately after your move to scream town" he chuckles at your joke, which makes your insides release thousands of butterflies. "Yeah I think the building manager makes them leave for showings. They didn't scream for mine or for Stan's showing" he points to the door across from him and you immediately know that that must be where Stan lives. "They probably do or they'd have an empty floor" you joke and there's another sweet chuckle. "I uh... Thanks again, I'll leave you to it." You say before he can answer and give him a sweet smile and a small wave before heading back to your apartment. Steves heart flutters as he watches you leave. Did screaming at the gnome just introduce him to the sweetest human alive? He closes his door after you've entered your apartment. With a new pep in his step he goes to his phone and reaches out to his friends.

It's just a couple of days later when you knock on his door again. He's surprised to see you but oh so happy. "Hey sorry if I'm disturbing you" he smiles and shakes his head, urging you to go on. "I... That'll sound like I'm a creep but I uh... I saw you feed the strays and I wanted to bring you some food for them." You hold up the bag of food and Steve smiles sweetly. "Yeah... I started feeding them when I moved in. Can't have 3 cats though and I can't just take one. Would be a shame to separate them" he says as he takes the bag from you and thanks you sweetly. "Yeah it would be... They're so cute though" you gush and he smiles even more. "Hey uh... Wanna come in? Stan made too much cake and gave me like half of it... We could share?" You immediately nod and give him a shy smile. "I'd love that" Steve beams at that and let's you in. As you sit down he gets some tea for the both of you and gives you some cake.

One slice of cake turned into two. That turned into dinner and dinner turned into the two of you kissing on his couch. Kissing on his couch turned into a beautiful relationship filled with love and laughter. Steve has never been happier and he vowed to the universe to give everything in his power to not lose you. And whoever in the universe listened fulfilled his wish. A short engagement led to a beautiful outdoor wedding on Tony's property with everyone from his found family showing up. The two of you bought a house and moved in together with the 3 strays that you just couldn't leave behind. And your little family soon grew to a family of 7 when you got pregnant with twins.

Steve has never been prouder to carry a title then the title of daddy. Little chubby hands around his finger, big eyes taking in the wonder of the world and your beautiful smile as you're watching him with your little ones.

If Steve would have to describe a happy ending it would be this. You, his little ones and the 3 cats.

[stargirlo]

𝓜EET THE FUSHIGURO'S — ( 𝕿 ) OJI FUSHIGURO │ "dear babygirl, i'm sorry that your father is not active inside your world." (angst)

not everyone has such a perfect life, but not everyone has such a complex life. things aren't meant to go in a straight line, but things also aren't meant to be in a bumpy ride. everything felt like a maze, trying to find a way to escape this hell hole without any blocks or bumps coming into life — your life, toji's life. everyone has goals, everyone has dreams, everyone can achieve some of their goals and dreams, but some of them don't. and it's fucking hard to overcome that.

being in a relationship with toji fushiguro, ah, toji fushiguro. you aren't married to him but somehow you managed to birth out two beautiful children, first being a beautiful baby boy, megumi fushiguro. he's identical to toji, same hair, same facial features, everything looked alike between the two. in the next few years, a beautiful baby girl now came into the world, tsumiki fushiguro. personality wise, she's just like you, a kind-hearted soul, a sweet girl who should be held with care. you know those stickers that are added to packages when you buy something that can break easily; "fragile. handle with care." yeah, that's tsumiki, and you.

even if the family of four didn't have all the luxury, they say that it's the littlest things that can balm your shell.

remember how you used to be so fragile, so kind, and so, so sweet. well that wasn't permanent, and it was only temporary as soon as toji was on and off with family. you know he's working, but you don't know what or who he's working for or who he's even working with. even a man can have his own struggles; but what kind? gambling problems? drinking problems? pill-popping and spending problems? bad with money? only toji knows.

"mama when is daddy coming back?" "is daddy gonna come to my ninth birthday?" "are we gonna watch frozen with daddy?" "is daddy gonna help us with our timetables?"

those questions tire you because you don't know, you really don't. you wish you could explain where he's at, but with so little information and so little contact, you don't know where the fuck that man is.

until this one night where you left yourself and toji into shambles.

carefully leaving your bed in which tsumiki and megumi are currently sleeping in, you set yourself off to leave and relax on the living room. it took some time for the kids to sleep, it took more time for you to even sleep despite having to wake up early for work tomorrow.

not until the jangling keys were hear through the front door, and the loud creak audibly heard across the hallway and onto the living room. he's here. you looked across the room just to make sure it was him, even though you know it is him because he's the only one that has a spare apartment key to his own place. or rather your place now.

"the fucking nerve," you grumble under your breath, a vein almost popping out of your skin. getting up from the couch you came up to him, the reeking scent of alcohol lingered just two feet away from you. the musky scent of sweat and dirt combined with such a foul smell that made your whole face twist and scrunch. eye bags were visible, hair disheveled and greasy, lips chapped, breath probably smelling horrible, and clothes needing to be washed asap. he's a fucking mess.

"mm- what? 'm home..." he spoke lowly, scratching his head as he always kept up his nonchalant nature. one of his hands held a medium sized plastic bag, hanging lazily between his fingers. "yeah no shit." you said sternly, arms crossing in disbelief as your eyes followed all over him like he was some sort of homeless person. "what's up with you? why're mad, babe..?" he cocked a brow, energy low and definitely not in the mood to hear your constant babbling.

you scoffed. what is up with you anyway? is he fucking with you? "what's up with me is that you didn't come home in almost about a month. you look like a fucking mess and you smell like absolute shit." now the jet black haired man knew that shit was getting serious, the way you're just talking to him like that, and the way you're saying that he smells like shit. he needs to tighten up because your points are right about him. "what a nice way to welcome me back, thought i was expecting a kiss or sumn'–"

"are you kidding me, toji? showing up at midnight and acting all nonchalant and shit. you don't understand how fucking worried i was for you? even the kids were asking me about you, keeping them on their toes everyday without any news from you and praying that you'll be okay. do you understand what you are fucking putting me through just now? work was the only thing being up my ass and now there are multiple other things that i have in my hands and in my care." you rasped, eyebrows pinching together as frustration slowly seeped into your nerves, holding back the urge to lash at him. "instead of you, the man of the house, having all the courage to take care of its family, you fucking destroy it. fucking us all up." your hands ball into fists, the whole scene turning into a tense argument.

"you should've been teaching megumi his timetables, or maybe watching frozen with tsumiki. you missed out on my baby girl's birthday, she just turned nine and i could tell that her birthday wish was for you to come back." slowly, your voice started to crack, salty tears welling up your dropping eyes. "and what have you been doing during those times where i've worked my ass off overtime at a fucking convenient store? huh? i'm so tired, toji, and i bet you are too. but the way you're just unexpectedly showing up when you're the reason you've put me at my lowest is fucking unacceptable." you spat, a streak of tear running down your cheek. toji exhales deeply, knowing how you feel and it was actually his fault that you turned out this way. guilt and frustration washes through him, not having any other excuse about his absence.

"look, the point is that 'm here now. and i promise that i won't leave without letting you know, i promise i'll build a connection with our kids–" and then again, you interrupted his promises. "promise? hah– you? promising something that you'll do again? make up your fucking mind, toji. you broke our promises, you said that you'll marry me someday; that's a fucking lie. you said you'll get payed more and pay off our bills; that's also a fucking lie because you're using that shit to buy rum and gamble out the money that could save our life. look at you, fucking pathetic. you're embarrassing yourself at this point because i know what your true intentions are, toji. are you still popping pills to keep yourself at your feet? did you fuck whores at a brothel while you're at it?" those bitter and heartless words have left toji in shock, of course it has, you know him well and clear — like he was an open book to you.

"did you buy tsumiki the barbie doll that she asked for a few months ago? or did you gamble that money?" you asked, tilting your head slightly as your expression was evident that you were not buying this. "because i know for sure that i was counting pennies at the grocery store to buy that fucking toy for tsumiki–" you spat, holding back from having a psychotic episode before toji's gruff voice interrupted you now. "don't speak like that if you're going to mention our daughter." he gives off a warning, but you could only scoff at disbelief at it, why's he all of a sudden caring so much? "our daughter? no no no, you barely did shit for her and now you're trying to be on your goody-two-shoes to act like you care about our daughter? where were you when i gave birth to her, huh? where were you when i gave birth to megumi?" your voice echoed through the hallway, the argument getting louder that the kids would probably hear it.

"megumi, why's mommy yelling?" tsumiki asked in a hoarse voice, waking up to the ruckus happening outside of the bedroom. megumi softly hushed the little girl, placing his hands that are slightly bigger than hers to her ears, muffling your shouts and derogatory words. "it's gonna be okay, she's just talking to daddy..." he murmured reassuringly, hiding the fact that he's on the edge of tearing up after finding out the truth about the absence of his father.

"you're acting like you did most of the work when you haven't been on my shoes." toji stated, his stomach twisting at the fact that you bought up the way he wasn't with you during labor. "because i did most of the work you dickhead! you barely didn't show up for your own family, for your own lover who was giving birth to your fucking kids! how would you think i was feeling during that time toji?! squeezing the nurses hand instead of yours while i was popping my ass off to give you two beautiful kids into this shitty life!" you shouted, already having a mental breakdown as more tears bubbled within your lower lashline. "you never open about yourself, you never show any ounce of affection ever since we had kids, you never did the bare minimum to show that you still love us! you're a fucking disappointment toji! you don't know nothing about taking care of things. waking up the kids? know nothing about that. teaching them basic human decency? know nothing about that. telling them to pray? know nothing about that. taking them to school? you know nothing about that." and that was the breaking point. the plastic bad dropped down to the floor as his calloused hands quickly loomed over to you to grab you at your shoulders.

"call me a disappointment one more time 'n see what fucking happens." he shook you like you were mentally ill, thinking that some sense would come to your mind. but could you let him get this physical with you? fuck no. "don't touch me you freak!" you squealed, hands that are smaller than his large ones grab his wrists as an attempt to pull away from his embrace. "can you take a second to understand what i've been going through?! jesus... haven't had a single moment to express myself for just a fucking minute." he grunts, the grip on your shoulders loosening up as he wasn't daring himself to even hurt you. no way.

"and what do you have to say to this, huh?! stop trying to figure out a useless excuse so that i could come back to you like nothing happened." you sniffled through your nose, soft hiccups eliciting through your slightly swollen lips. "please just hear me out–" toji exclaims, showing an ounce of vulnerability that he wasn't planning on expressing. "no! take your fucking shit and leave this goddamn place," you quickly push him away from your personal bubble, grasping the plastic bag and slamming it at his chest. "you're nothing but a fucking deadbeat who doesn't even deserve to be called a 'father'." and with that, he's standing by the front doorway, mentality absolutely destroyed as his face uttuerly grew pale. this was it. this was over.

"if you weren't raised in such a fucked up clan, maybe you shouldn't have been such a shit dad."

-

the aftermath of the argument left toji having a hole to his stomach. it was like daggers were digging deeper and deeper into his gut. what you yelled and screamed at him for was probably right, maybe he is a shit father; maybe he was born in a fucked up family and turned out this way. the plastic bag swung between his thick fingers, walking like a kicked puppy in the rain as he was lost in his thoughts.

a nearby trash can was visible along his way, now carelessly throwing away the bag and discarding it with the rest of the trash and pests that were there. what was in that bag anyway? take-out? alcohol? meds? no. they were two gifts that megumi and tsumiki were asking for a few months ago. a pretty blonde barbie doll in her pink little dress, and a few stacks of digimon cards. all of that went to waste.

meet the fushiguro's.

note: phewww, that was a lot. updating my masterlist tmrw. have a good night everyoneeeeeeeeee.

⠀( OWNED BY ) STARGIRLO.

do not plagiarize any of my works , translate them , or repost them anywhere around any other social media platform . thank you .

[grandlinedreams]

childhood friends trope with Law please and thank you <3333 This particular trope always has me in shambles THE INTIMACY?? OR KNOWING EVERY VERSION OF THAT PERSON?? THE INSIDE JOKES? UGHHH And lets not forget the tenderness that comes with knowing that person for years and then some. Good shit. I just want this lonely brooding twink to have something constant in his from from his childhood to adulthood. The softness makes me wanna hurl i love it

YESSSSS i am also such a sucker for childhood friends trope bls I hope I can do this justice for you!!

[Heads up!: fluff, a touch of angst, dressrosa arc spoilers]

He's lucky to not be dead.

You kneel on Law's other side, limp hand in both of yours. You've never seen him so still and quite frankly, you're terrified.

You know you should talk to him, try to keep him tethered here in the land of the living ㅡ but your mind is horribly blank given the chaos still unfolding around you.

Were you more sentimental, you'd beg. A thousand pinky promises and accompanying eyerolls, the smirk you so often threaten to punch him for when he's being insufferable ㅡ you'd take it over this.

"You must care for him quite a bit," Viola says, and you know she's trying to find something to say, to reassure you that Law is going to be just fine. "Are you..."

She trails off, tact where there often is none when it comes to you and Law. Because there's only so in sync you can be with someone else, share looks and understand what the other wants, seemingly operate as two halves of a whole before you get that question.

"No," you say, "we're just friends."

ㅡ

You're a lot more than just friends. That implies that there's been much of a time where you didn't know each other, and there really hasn't. Or that the two of you met through traditional means.

That isn't quite true either. You meet when the world is on fire for the both of you, in ways so similar and yet not.

Grief is such a funny thing when you find comfort in someone who's lost just as much as you. It's easier to tread those dark waves when someone else is threatening to sink with you ㅡ find solid ground in linked pinkies and eyerolls that follow, wide grins made hole-punched by missing baby teeth.

Of course there's also Shachi, Penguin and Bepo ㅡ they aren't far behind you in knowing Law, but it still stands that you've been a constant for longer.

"Of course I'm gonna come with you, idiot," you huff, eyes gleaming with laughter, "who else is gonna put up with you the way I do?"

You don't need to tell him you'd gladly follow him through the gates of hell. He knows, because he'd do the same for you.

There's only one person who knows you better than yourself, and his name is Trafalgar Law. You don't turn as he exits Kyros' house, eyes still skyward as he sinks onto the step beside you.

"The stars are pretty," you remark.

"You should be asleep." Law's eyes narrow when you mouth his words at the same time, and you scoff.

"Last time I checked, I wasn't the one who got shot, then almost lost an arm." Law meets your gaze, then looks away. "I'm not expecting you to apologize, because that isn't how we operate. But we made a promise, didn't we?"

"[Name]ㅡ"

"Law."

Law huffs. "We were kids."

"So? Hasn't stopped us before. As I recall, you've pulled this card on me several times." You hold your hand up, pinky extended. "Do it, Law."

Law stares at you, as thrilled about your tradition as he ever is, but links his pinky around yours. You grin, and he rolls his eyes. "You're a pain."

"Yeah," you answer, scooting closer to settle your head on his shoulder. "You're my pain, and I'm yours. That's how it works, right?"

Law is quiet, undoubtedly still coming to terms with the end of all of this and what it means for him ㅡ catharsis, a shackle unclamped from around his neck. Your hand finds his, fingers braced through the gaps of his, and you squeeze. You don't say a word, and you don't have to.

"Yeah," Law finally answers, lets his head rest against yours. "It is."

[tavyliasin]

Disability Pride Month and BG3!

It’s Disability Pride Month! And you know what that means, right? No? Well it has been ages and I’ve long been casually planning a series of short (maybe) essays around the parallels to disability - and the clearer disability representation - throughout Baldur’s Gate 3 in both the characters and the story. So what better month than this to finally work on them and bring them out?

Whilst I do have some personal lived experience with disability, this doesn’t account for every type of condition or all the ways that different disabilities affect so many of us. Two people with the same condition can have quite a different lived experience, and even the condition itself can vary significantly. So what I mean to say here, loves, is that if you have a differing opinion, or there’s something I’ve missed, or you’d just like to add your thoughts - please do just that! 

I welcome hearing from all of you about how you relate to the game through your own lived experiences, and what the characters can mean to you. Representation isn’t always clear, but honestly I think when we look closer we can see parts of all kinds of experiences reflected through the characters and story. So, what I intend to do is create a series of essays, looking in depth at the potential parallels we can see in each of the main companions that I’m most familiar with (unfortunately I don’t know Minthara well enough to include her in this, but I would welcome input from others!) and then perhaps some of the other characters. (Edit - all pieces completed for now, next year I may add more!) These pieces are not meant to be diagnostic in any way, or claiming “this character has this illness”, but instead is a look at how the characters and their stories and details can be similar to real world disability and health, and how different people might find ways to relate to their experiences through this.

Links to the Disability Discussion Posts

Karlach - Terminal Illness (Completed) Wyll - Sudden Physical Change (Traumatic Incident) (Completed) Gale - Chronic Illness, Autism (Completed) Astarion - Complex Needs, Specialised Diets, and Addiction (Completed) Lae’zel - Ableism, Eugenics, and More Neurodiversity (Completed) Shadowheart - Memory Difficulties, Depression, Fluctuating Chronic Pain (Completed) Halsin - Carer Fatigue and The End Of The Path Of Healing (Completed) Gortash - Invisible Disability and Visible Mobility Aids (Completed)

--- I'm not sure how quickly I'll get through posting these as I'm having a tough time with my own physical health right now - isn't that ironic? - but I do intend to get through at least this list by the end of July in between fic writing and other projects.

If you would like to suggest other characters, storylines, or disability related topics in BG3 please let me know! I'd love to hear how you all relate to the game and the characters from these angles too, and I might be willing to add things to this list if I can.

Lia's Disability Experience

As a little peek behind the curtain (and for full disclosure that I'm not an abled person here to talk over disabled experiences) without giving you too much of myself on the single plate, my lived experience is with an unpredictable chronic pain condition as well as a few other chronic illnesses and disability issues. I'm a wheelchair user, partially ambulatory (essentially I can shamble around in my home with assistance but outside the house I rely on my wheels), and my most prevalent symptom is constant pain. I have made vague references to these things in a few works and the experience does provide me with some fic inspiration for a couple of works. I'm far too familiar with Loviatar's embrace, but I feel this is something that can be used to my advantage at times like these where I can examine the characters and storylines from angles that abled people might not consider.

Your Input!

I really would love to hear from all of you - what other characters do you feel reflect some of the lived experiences of disabled people? Are there any that you connected to? Did you find the game was accessible for you to play as a disabled person? What do you wish you saw more of in the game or in games in general? This month really is an important one for awareness and understanding, as well as finding things in ourselves to be proud of that don't fall into the categories of "inspiration porn" or the kinds of internalised ableism that can drive some of us to push too hard to work against our conditions instead of with and around them leading to more issues.

Remember - The Disabled Community is the one minority that anyone could become a part of at any time. Advocating for our rights could also be advocating for your own future or that of a loved one.

[crazycurly-77]

Like an old married couple - Chapter 20

On the way to your apartment he broke surely 10 traffic rules. 9 of them where definitely speed limits, but he didn't cared. He couldn't wait to see you again, clear this mess and hold you in his arms. 

So he drove as fast as was possible and after parking his car right in front of your house he ran the steps to your apartment, taking 3 steps at once. 

Arriving at your door he rang the doorbell and didn't let go of it. Additionally he pounded as hard as he could at your door, screaming your name on top of his lungs. He simply had to speak to you, no matter what. Let the neighbors complain, what the hell. He was a man on a mission and were not backing down from it. 

You were woken up by a constant ringing of the doorbell and a loud constant pounding on your door. You didn't want to speak to anybody, rolled onto your stomach and pulled your pillow over your head, hoping that your unwanted visitor checked that you didn't want any visitors and went away. You wanted to be alone and nurse your broken heart. 

But no, your visitor didn't get it. Far from it. Because to the insistent pounding and ringing, loud shouting was added. 

“Y/N!” 

“Y/N! I know you are in there, open the door!” 

“Y/N!” 

Eventually you rolled your eyes and got up, shambling to the door. “Yeah, I'm coming, but stop this noise!” You yelled. Then it struck you. You knew this voice. And how you knew it. You dreamed and wished so much to hear this voice only once again in the last few days, you had lost count on it. “Y/N!” You heard him shouting through the door. Yes, it was none other than Jethro, the man himself. And he seemed very determined to get your attention and speak with you. 

“Y/N! Open the door, I need to talk to you.”

You reached to open the door, but you trembled. What does he want? Why was he almost tearing down your door and screaming while doing so? 

After all, if you were not opening the door the whole neighborhood would soon be there to see what's the matter. So you sighed, steeled yourself, turned the door knob, opened the door and were immediately surrounded by two strong arms that pressed you to a broad chest “hmpf”. 

After the first surprise you wrapped your arms around him and you hugged him tightly. Yes, this is where you belonged. Here in his arms and nowhere else you wanted to be for the rest of your life. 

You inhaled deeply as you perceived a faint scent of sawdust that was so him and you closed your eyes. This felt like heaven. 

Before you could say anything he closed the door and kissed you deeply. He poured his whole heart and soul into this kiss only interrupted by him murmuring “I missed you. I missed you so damn much, it was driving me insane.” And he was back to kissing you once again. 

You thought you were dreaming. Could it really be? Could this really happen? Jethro (as you were calling him in your thoughts) in your home, kissing you senseless? 

Oh yeah, he really was there with you and so you kissed him back with as much fervor as he kissed you. 

As wonderful as kissing each other madly was, after a while you two needed to interrupt your kisses for breathing. You were both panting hard, but couldn't stop giving small kisses to each other and smiling madly. 

Then he couldn't hold it to himself any longer “I love you. I love you, Y/N. So damn much. Please come back to me. Come back home, it feels cold without you there” Gibbs whispered. 

“Gibbs…” you began. 

“Jethro” he corrects you. 

“Jethro” you whispered and he nodded, smiling widely and kissing you once again. 

He was here. With you in his arms. Kissing you deeply. He was in heaven. 

You smiled infinitely happy up at him “I love you too, you know?” 

“Yeah, I very much hoped so” he laughed and kissed you hard. 

It sounded so good to hear him laugh again. 

“Listen, I know everything. Col. Mann tried to flirt with me, but I turned her down because of you. And in the meantime I have found out that Simon is just a friend to you” you waited where he was getting at. So he continued “sooo how do you feel about moving back in with me as my girlfriend? I've built you an own workplace in the basement for building your model ships and I would be honored if you come back to me” he pleaded. 

That was all you wanted, dreamed about and wished for, so you nodded fiercely and threw yourself into his waiting arms and kissed him passionately again. Both your hearts were bursting with bliss and happiness.

But there was one thing that was still running through your head “how do you know all that? Will say, that I saw you with Col. Mann and that with Simon?” “I spoke to Abby and Ducky. Don't be mad at them. They only tried to help” he asked of you. 

“I told them not to say anything, but yeah, they did mean good. So it's okay. At least, thanks to them you are here and we are happy. We are finally happy with each other, aren't we?” you asked him. 

“As happy as one can be” he answered and kissed you once again. 

You were kissing and kissing, his lips nearly constantly on yours. Breathing? Who needs to breathe? You both were needing the other like crazy and were feeling like you have to starve, if you were not touching, feeling and kissing each other intensely. 

Boy, you had it really bad for one another. 

The spell of your wonderful fairytale moment was sadly broken, as you needed to breathe urgently. Okay, apparently it still was impossible to go without breathing. 

So you moved to the couch, laying down pressed tightly against the other cuddling and enjoying the closeness, which you missed so hard. And now you were even closer than ever before and you both hoped that this would never end. 

You were holding each other tightly, cuddling on the couch and talking until well into the night. You spoke of everything and anything, but mainly of your future together, exchanging a lot of “I love you"s throughout the talking and finally falling asleep in the arms of your beloved.

The next day you were walking into the bullpen hand in hand, both grinning madly. 

All the people there were greeting and hugging you happily and welcomed you back. 

“So…you were walking in hand in hand…are you two dating now?” Tony wanted to know as nosy as he was. 

But before you could even make a sound, Gibbs pulled you into a bear hug and kissed you, bending you over his arm, so that everyone would know that you are a couple now. 

You heard hands clapping, cheering and whistling in the whole office and you were both laughing hard. 

Abby came screaming “I've won!” and threw herself in your arms for a group hug. 

“I said you two would need a little help, but would end up together” she winked and bounced up and down. “Y/N, Ducky and I told Gibbs what's going on, because he was driving us all nuts. I hope that's okay with you.” You smirked and nodded “yes, it's okay. Thanks for your help” and you hugged again. 

Jenny watched the whole thing from the top of the stairs, smiling happily seeing you finally as a couple. A little piece of her heart was sad for herself, because she had a feeling that Gibbs had finally found the one for him and you were about to be the next and last Mrs. Gibbs.

So she walked down towards you were standing and hugged you. “Welcome back, Y/N” she smiled warmly. 

You looked stunned at her. 

“Back? But I gave you my request for transfer” you said in surprise. 

She smiled, winked at you and only said “you gave me your request for switching back to the FBI, but I didn't accepted it, so you are temporarily on leave.”

Looking over at Gibbs she said smiling “I think you both have a lot to discuss and to celebrate, so I suggest you take a vacation, too. See you two in a week.” You both just nodded laughing. Gibbs took your hand and you two left the bullpen, whereas Jenny headed back to her office.

After all, you two had a lot of work to do for your moving in with Jethro.

The End

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

Here you will find the other chapters of this story and the other stories I've written to date.

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

[casdeans-pie]

I dont know if anyone noticed that I took a three day break from tumblr, but I was in a pretty low place and I just didn't want to post anything

Long story short the vet doesn't know what's wrong with Pumpkin - by the appearance of his gums he shouldn't be having any problems. And yet his fur is in shambles from him ripping it out and he chews on his own gums incessantly.

More rambling under the cut

The vet prescribed him some medication that's good for cat anxiety and for nerve pain - which I'm starting to suspect he has from the tooth extraction operation going wrong somehow.

He's only been on it for like two days so I shouldn't be disappointed that he's not any better, but I still am.

The amount of money for two weeks worth of these tablets is. insane.

And he can't just stop being on them or it'll give him seizures!!! I have to wean him off gradually. So that's even more money RIP.

I'll be doing something fun to raise some funds tomorrow - it's a little gacha game I've thought of, where if you donate on my kofi page you get to 'summon a familiar' so I'll throw some DnD dice that'll determine the species, features like wings and horns, elemental powers, colour, temperament etc ... and then I'll draw it!!

So each person gets something unique decided by the dice rolls! That's the familiar you summon from the special familiar gacha machine lmao

But yeah, I'm trying my best to stay positive about it all. I'm doing my best for this annoying little creature that I love, and I can only hope that we eventually sort him out. Also he's got to go back to the vets on Friday! Again!!! The staff all know us by sight now!!!

Despite the circumstances not having changed much beyond him now being on medication that I don't actually think is doing anything, I'm actually weirdly feeling better about it all. Has my body finally adapted to the constant stress? Have I finally snapped? Who knows. But I feel calmer all of a sudden. I'm doing my best and that's all I can do - we can keep looking for ways to make him better, but I can't physically do any more than that, so I can't just stay stressed about him 24/7. It's not helping him and it's not helping me. I just need to keep hoping we come across the magic solution to his discomfort soon 🤞

[linafinsterwald192]

This Soyuz-Apollo romance has me in shambles. SHAMBLES. It all starts with Sergei challenging Margo with the whole "No, that's not astronaut 3 and 4, that is cosmonaut 1 and 2." and "I suggest Soyuz-Apollo. For convenience." and "Soyuz will be the active part." He's such a cunt with it but he is also right. He needs to be doing this because otherwise, the Russian involvement in it will always just be an accessory. An afterthought. Also frankly I think it was funny for him to be a little shit. I hope it was funny to Sergei too.

Margo had absolutely no say in falling for him. But I also think that she puts an incredible amount of love into the people around her. Purposefully. She let Wernher close to her, and made herself vulnerable by asking how much he knew, and I think she was trying to find something that negates all the harm Wernher has done. Something that excuses his actions even a little bit. One can see how much she cares about basically everyone who is up in space at any point. She is so hopeful and scared when things go wrong. She made herself incredibly vulnerable with Aleida. She met up with her several times, knowing she needed it. Needed Margo as a parental figure in her life. She asked her to join NASA, knowing it was a risk, knowing that Aleida might slam the door into her face and hope it breaks her nose. Knowing Aleida might fuck it up big time and ruin Margo's reputation as she vouched for her. And Margo kept at it, until Aleida could stand on her own two feet. Despite how often she got hurt, she always keeps loving. Despite the constant paranoia and hatred towards Russia/Russians from the people around her, Margo and Sergei bantered over Apollo-Soyuz vs Soyuz-Apollo after Margo invited him to one of the places she never shows someone else. One of the sides she hides from everyone around her because that's HER space. it's her. Despite the revelations about Wernher, she trusts that Sergei won't be like him, even though it could very well be plausible for Sergei to have dark secrets as well.

She is so silly when she is with Sergei at first. She allows herself to just relax and be silly when she has to constantly be so fucking serious. The little paper ships docking. Them being stuck in the handshake tube thing. Margo never lets people get physically close to her like this. She isn't uncomfy. She is very comfy in there, despite being stuck and being super close to Sergei, despite Sergei clearly finding this amazing and hilarious, and MISSING THE COIN FLIP- Margo pushes him away because she has to. She doesn't want to push him away. She is MAD when he talks about work after they made out. Margo "I am always professional and this is not a place for feelings" Madison is livid this is interfering with literally anything - and livid that anyone would threaten Sergei like this.

She cares about him so much. She promises to keep him AND his family safe and it's clear she will do everything to achieve it. She doesn't shove him away going "this is fucking dangerous and I'm not risking everything I am and have for you". She goes "I'll get you and your family out of here." She KNOWS this might be the worst heartbreak she will ever go through. She KNOWS she might end up being tortured or killed or being seen as a traitor, a coward, a defector - And she does it anyway. She didn't stumble into any of this. She fucking ran praying to be fast enough.

That scene of her screaming into the pillow? fucking gold star. What I love so fucking much about this romance is that it's not a "it's too dnagerous to love me" shtick. it's "well FUCK. well FUCK. i love you and i can't do anything about it. so what do we do? how do we keep everyone safe, and be together? and be together.

It hurt her so much to constantly dismiss Aleida's efforts of finding out who gave away the engine design. And it scared her because she knows Aleida doesn't give up. And that is such a good thing.

Margo for sure wanted to run away with Sergei. But she couldn't promise him anything. And then, she didn't get to. She never got to say "I'll run with you." she never got to say "I love you." But everything she did conveyed just that. Everything she did was such a pure form of admiration, dedication, love, vulnerability, fear-

She was READY to rip Irina into pieces. She was. all she could say was "You knew him for years!" She couldn't SAY "I loved him and you know that." She couldn't SAY "he was always in a good mood, always happy, always loving, always caring, he was the best of the best, he was selfless and gorgeous and amazing" - she could only appeal to Sergei's supposed loyalty to the Russians. That was all the leverage she had. I WISH we knew what Irina thought in this moment. How much she knew. If she knew after Margo crying CRYING in a full room of silent people, in front of IRINA, maybe being aware that this might reveal her love for Sergei- And it hurt her so much that Aleida got pulled into this. Aleida was right, it had to be her typing the code. And it broke Margo that there was nothing she could do against it. Only for her to take the blame. Irina was in that room. Eli was there. Aleida was there.

Margo knew Sergei would be SO PROUD and SO PISSED if he had the chance of learning about this. Margo was stripped of the last tidbits of her honor, she was stripped of her diplomatic immunity - for all she knows, she could be kidnapped by the KGB and tortured for however long her body holds up. Especially if Irina pieced it together somewhere along the way. And she still went for it. And she let Aleida hug her in front of everyone because she knew that this was more important than the shit Aleida could catch for it. AND AFTER THIS. AFTER HER FEELINGS HAVE BROUGHT HER SO MUCH FUCKING PAIN AND MISERY, AFTER SERGEI ESSENTIALLY GOT KILLED FOR HAVING FEELINGS AND BEING IN LOVE, she says that feelings are a good thing. "Your honor, I was always told we shouldn't let personal feelings cloud our search for the truth. I don't think that's right. Feelings might not always be convenient," WELL . YOUR FEELINGS CERTAINLY WERE NEVER CONVENIENT- GOD- FUCK- THIS WOMAN. "they may even slow our progress, but they are also the only way to truly begin to understand the world around us. And the new worlds that await us." She EMBRACES it all. She might be in American prison from the sounds of it but this absolute powerhouse is looking forward to new worlds. She embraces that she felt all these feeings. She once thought she was like WERNHER VON BRAUN because of things she did. LIKE WERNHER VON FUCKING BRAUN- and now she is like "I did that." Also frankly I think she feels a little proud of herself when she gets escorted out of the mission control room. She does look a little smug, right? So anyway I will be reading all Margo Sergei fics I can find and post a thousand posts about them and I think Apollo-Soyuz should be a synonym for top Margo bottom Sergei and the other way around and I will now continue to scream into the void. thank you for your understanding. thank you for coming by on such notice.

[cleolinda]

Here's another song I had wanted to write about: Hozier's "Movement." It is a fact of my existence that I get into a musical artist/band about 10 years after everyone else does, and then they become 30% of my personality (see also: Florence and the Machine). So I didn't really get with the program until Wasteland, Baby, and even then, it was for an unusual reason.

When did this album come out, spring of 2019? I had spinal surgery in early 2018. A discectomy, L4/L5; the disc had gradually become herniated due to a fall I'd had at a convention. My surgeon was required to warn me that surgery would come with a (low) chance of paralysis; it was my choice to make. After two weeks of seizing up in pain every hour or so, confined to my bed—hydrocodone did nothing—I chose the scalpel. Even then, it was another four weeks before he could work me into the operating schedule. Trust me when I say, no matter how I'm doing now, I do not regret having that surgery.

But he also told me, "You will always be a person who has had spinal surgery." Since anything was better than screaming every time I moved, I didn't fully understand what he meant until a year or so later, when I was still in pain—a chronic but lower-grade pain that came and went depending on how much activity I dared try that particular day. It was infinitely better than before. And, but, yet, I still deal with that chronic pain today. I will always be that person.

"Walk," he told me. I had a packet of therapy exercises to do, sure, but he was firm on this point. "That's the main exercise you need. Just walking." Which I couldn't do at first—I didn't have to learn to walk again or anything, but I was in a wheelchair early on, then on a wheeled walker for a couple of months. I also have inherited neuropathy in my feet, which was exacerbated by electrically painful sciatic nerve damage down my right leg while I waited for my slot in the surgery calendar. (I swear to God I will start talking about music soon.) I only walk across the longest side of my backyard. I don't leave it and walk around the neighborhood, because I generally have about two minutes upright to get back to the house once my feet start hurting.

So I had been struggling with my walking assignment for about a year when "Movement" came out. Of course it's literally about physically moving (and emotionally being moved), but that wasn't what captured me. The song starts out slow and reflective; it was a gentle tempo for a time when I couldn't walk very fast, and I still use it as a warm-up today. But there are two other things I love about it. One, the willow tree in the chorus, as I was walking my little runway back and forth under a canopy of wild water oak draped with wisteria, looking up into the sun through the leaves and snowflake flowers of an overgrown cherry laurel. Sound met landscape.

But the other thing is how—generous? accepting?—the words are of the "you" of the song. This person, the lyrics say, does not have to be a virtuoso dancer like Fred Astaire or Sergei Polunin (who's in the video up there). Instead, "you're Atlas in his sleeping, and when you move, I'm moved." My absolute favorite part is,

Move like grey skies Move like a bird of paradise Move like an odd sight come out at night

What the fuck even are these lyrics. I can't. That's so good. You ever sit there as a writer and think, I'm so mad I didn't come up with that? Just the pure unexpectedness, "I'm telling you how earthshakingly amazing this person is. Like a beautiful willow, like a rare bird, like some weird-ass cryptid in the night, I don't even know what that was about but I love it." What even. So good.

And I was for sure an odd sight shambling back and forth across the back of my yard: five minutes at first. Then ten the next week, working my way up to thirty, still in a dull roar of constant pain a year into my recovery. But this is a song that says, your efforts to move are moving, whatever movement is natural for you; you may be sleeping just now, you may be moving without moving, but you are wonderful not in spite of being strange in your movements, but because of it. The song always feels like a friend walking along with me, no matter how many setbacks I have, or how slow I have to go.

Anyway, Unreal Unearth comes out next Friday. The five songs Hozier's put out so far are ridiculously good, and I've scheduled a couple of months to be completely feral about it. When the weather is less dangerously hot, we'll find out which songs are good to move to.

[dearembraced]

KH OC WEEK DAY 1 - INTRODUCTION @khoc-week

I couldn't prepare properly for this week because my hyperfixations have been elsewhere and my mind literally wouldn't let me focus on anything until like, yesterday - but I was not going to miss khoc week this year!!! I was so upset I couldn't do it last year because my life was in shambles, but I'm in a much better place now!

For this year though I want to focus on my set of kh ocs who are the 'firsts' !! Meaning they are the first members of each union. Two of them don't belong to me, so I focus on the ones that do - meaning Cecil (Ursus first), Kage (Unicornis first) and Saorise (Anguis first).

I haven't drawn them recently, gosh it's been like a year or two! So these references are old but still more or less accurate, I'm overall happy with their designs - the only one I would probably update is Kage's but if I do I'll just do that on a different day.

To summarize their personalities:

Cecil is the eepiest person you will ever meet. They're known as the 'ghost of ursus' as only a few people have even seen them or know about them. The most people know about them is that they tend to leave supplies for members in secret, that they're always tired, and they have the strength of 100 keyblade wielders (supposedly),

Kage is a great leader - for those who can put up with his constant berating and short fuse. He leads a party called the 'patient dreamers' and they constantly have one of the top three rankings within the union even though the party is relatively small due to not many people wanting to join and deal with his nonsense. Those who stick around understand that no one cares more about the union, its members, and ira, more than Kage.

Saorise is the least developed of the three but essentially she is known as a 'prince' within the union. She's like a celebrity and everyone rushes to team up with her whenever they get the chance. But she's also very mysterious and no one in the union knows a lot about her. The other firsts think she's more trouble than anything, though.

[snowblossomreads]

Day 10 - Lingering Touch

Pairings: Past Sinclair Bryant x OC (Amiee Huang)

Summary: In where Sinclair mulls over lost love.

Tag(s)/Warning(s): Angst

A/N: I keep making pupper cry and I'M SORRY 😭😭😭😭😭. I really dont mean it but it hurts when he hurt and i'm like well i have a good prompt so hey 😭😭 I'm sorry sweet pupper boi. (also yes it's sinclair again and yes he will show up again i'm not sorry)

Based on The Art of Entangled Hearts (which is currently in construction lol)

Almost six months had passed since the last time Sinclair had seen, and lost the person he knew would forever be the love of his life. Summer had melted into autumn and autumn into winter. 

Yet, his heart was still broken and his thoughts in shambles, which was a wholly new experience for him.  

Everyone could see it. From his coworkers who noticed how blue he was whenever he came in, to his friends, and even his cousin, who had called wanting to talk business and any trends Sinclair had caught sight of at his work. 

That discussion took a turn, when he let out a weary sigh, after giving the man on the other end of the phone very nonchalant answers. Which was again, very out of character for the normally chatty man. 

How could he be normal, when the only person who ever made him feel that way, was thousands of miles away across the ocean?

"Sinclair, listen to me." The frustrated sigh of his cousin made him want to hang up the phone immediately, as he knew a lecture was incoming and he really wasn't all that interested in hearing what the man had to say about his love life.

But being who he was, he didn't.

"You have to get over her. It's been months, and she’s gone while you're here moping and making everyone around you suffer from the dramatics. People break up all the time, and I think it is time you at least attempt to move on."

"No."

"What was that?"

Sinclair's brows furrowed downward at his cousin's words, a glass of mulled wine in his hand that he had been swirling around, as he stared at a little handmade painting that sat on his coffee table. Splashes of pinks, blues, and greens, decorated the small canvas creating a beautiful pond with flowers floating peacefully in it. Another touch of hers that lingered around his flat. One that had so many little trinkets lying around yet felt so empty without her. 

"I said no Lionel." Sinclair repeated, his tone taking on a harsher sound than he wanted, but could care less to correct it as he took a sip of his wine. The flavor was duller than he remembered and unappetizing just like his life for the past months. "You're acting like I haven't tried to move on but I can't…I just can't."

"You can't? Or you won't," Lionel asked, his voice leaking exasperation and annoyance at what he deemed to be his cousin's dramatics over a girl. "You dated her for what? A year? And you're acting like you've spent all your life with her."

Oh, if only he knew. 

"Two actually."

"Okay two," Lionel repeated, doing so in a way, that Sinclair could tell was paired with rolled eyes, without even seeing the man on the other side of the phone. "Which is the same amount of time you dated some of the other girls," he pointed out correctly. "Yet when you broke up with them you were quick to rebound. So, forgive me if I don't understand what was so special about this one girl when there are plenty-"

"Because I was going to marry her!"

Sinclair exploded, having enough of his cousin’s lecture, and slamming the glass he had down on the table with so much force, that it was a miracle it didn't shatter, as its contents splashed around violently, some of it even spilling onto the tabletop. But he could care less. It was a constant lately. Him just not caring.

The line went quiet on the other end.

"I-I loved her, I still love her, you don't understand Li!" Sinclair sobbed out as he smacked his chest with a closed palm, his voice hoarse as he tried to hold back the tears that burned in his eyes. "Every time I close my eyes and try to sleep I see her! Her smiling at me and laughing and she made me feel normal!" His voice cracked and went higher with each word as his throat constricted and his grip on the phone receiver tightened. 

"I could actually think clearly when she was around, and she listened to me Li, she listened and genuinely wanted to know what I had to say. I know I talk a lot because I know no one is listening to me but she did!" He choked out before devolving suddenly into a fit of painful sobs. "She listened to me Li. She listened…."

His words trailed off, and the tears he had been holding back finally broke at the thought of Amiee and just how much he cared and loved her. She was everything to him, someone he could confide in with ease. Someone he could just be with, and not worry if she truly loved him because the way she would look at him told him everything he needed to know. 

She treated him so gently even though he knew her life hadn't been that way, and it just made his heart ache so much. He had her so much love, he still did, but she was gone and he would probably never see her again. 

Never love someone like he loved her. 

What was his life without her? His best friend? His Amiee.

After what felt like hours, his sobs turned into hiccups and little sniffles as he tried to regain his composure. Almost embarrassed for his sudden outburst on the phone. Which made him all the more surprised, when he realized that Lionel was still on the phone with him during the entire thing.

"Li…?" He sniffled, wiping his face with the back of his jumper sleeve.

"When are you coming back to London Clair?"

Sinclair paused mid-wipe of his nose just to stare at the phone in confusion. Well, that was an odd thing to ask right after he just had a mental breakdown on the phone.

"W-what?"

"Tsk, answer the question we don't have all day," Lionel sighed on the other end. 

"I-I don't know, probably spring next year after we close this project out," he sputtered out, still so puzzled that he didn't even know how to feel because what? "I think mum wanted me to come to France with her for her friend's vineyard opening or something after I'm done here so maybe even later?"

"Oh no that won't do at all that's far too long from now," Lionel announced, and Sinclair could hear some papers being shuffled around in the background, making him wonder if he was still at the office.

"What won't do Li, I'm sorry can you please explain? Even with all the thoughts that swirl in my head I'm very confused."

Another long sigh came from the other end before Lionel spoke. "What I mean to say, is that next spring is far too long, I'm coming to you. Tonight. And you better let me in."

"You? Come to Manchester?" Sinclair balked, before devolving into a fit of laughter ignoring the protesting coming from the other end. "Lionel Shahbandar in Manchester? Is the world ending because the last thing you told me is you'd never be caught dead in the North! What's changed all of a sudden?"

"Well pardon me if I'm only trying to make sure my cousin doesn't do something idiotic because he's so torn up by a woman!" Lionel huffed causing Sinclair's lips to twitch upward. "Is this how I'm repaid by trying to be nice? See this is why I don't even try!"

Listening to Lionel gripe about being nice and then being made fun of, Sinclair shook his head, a tiny smile on his lips. One that wasn't forced like he found himself doing so often nowadays. His eyes and head hurt from the crying, and his heart was still in pain but at least he had someone. Even if that someone was his cousin, who when it came to love wasn't the most talented in it either.

Still…it was nice. 

"Thanks Li," Sinclair spoke, causing a pause on the other end of the line. A pleased hum came from Lionel's side at the gratitude he was being shown.

"Yes, yes, I'll be there at a quarter till 7 I'll have my jet drop me off at the airport there and come around."

"You know those are terrible for the environment! You could make the trip here by car multiple times and you would still use less fuel than just on trip Lionel!"

"Duly noted, I will see you later, good bye!"

"Lionel!"

Before he could get another word in, Lionel had already hung up with a click, causing the line to go dead and leaving Sinclair with a frown. He stared at the phone a moment longer before hanging up, sinking into the sofa and letting his mind and eyes wander.

Each area in his flat that his eyes were drawn to as they wandered, lay a touch of her that lingered still. From a beautiful purple orchid, that was sat on his dining table that she had taken such good care of, which he was also trying to do the same with, but was finding difficult to because of how delicate they were.

Like love he thought.

Two of course, her little painting on his coffee table, and the others hung up in the hallway. God she was so talented, and it made him wish Lionel had gotten to meet Amiee. Granted, maybe not, as he was sure his cousin would make a not-so-subtle dig at the city, and the wrath that he would probably incur would be major.

Smirking to himself, Sinclair shook his head at the image of Amiee in all her 5'3" glory tearing into Lord Lionel Shabandar, who, was a smidge larger than Sinclair. That was another thing he loved about her. Quiet until you got to know her but once she trusted you, a ball of untapped energy that was also quick to defend the people she loved. 

Yes, that was his Amiee. His darling, his little love, and he missed her and would continue to do so for years to come until…

"Sin-Sinclair?"

She was still as lovely even after five years apart.

A/N: no matter what :" D they'll always find each other.

[starfall-spirit]

Summary: After his rescue from King Benedict’s dungeons, The Villain finds himself forced to make a difficult declaration.

AN: The characters in this fic may not be familiar to all of my readers, as some of you haven't read Assistant to the Villain. Again, I highly recommend it. It was so much fun and I'm dying for book two. In the meantime, I humbly offer slightly unhinged Evie and pathetic simp Trystan.

Read on Ao3

Evie

I. Beg. You.

Heartless, stoic, cold, brutal, ruthless.

Countless words could be used to describe The Villain, each one as horrible as the last. They were whispered to children as warnings. 

Stray from your bed and The Villain will snatch you up.

How many times had her father said those very words to her and her sister in her childhood, threatening them with the dark of night and a faceless beast? Evie scoffed, refusing to think of the man she’d called a parent for twenty-three years. He was the heartless one in this story.

But The Villain—Trystan… She wrung her fingers, letting her worry finally show within the privacy of his office, her rising emotions making her more claustrophobic than any tight space could. That constant flutter in her stomach had grown as the months passed, morphing into a great writhing thing that curled around her heart, squeezing. 

An endless drumbeat. A reminder.

I. Beg. You.

Ruthless. “No,” she snarled to the darkness around her. That squeezing eased, if only a fraction, and she raised her chin once more. “If the world wants ruthless, I’ll be the one to grant that request.” 

Though the declaration was made to nothing more than the empty air and a sign-wielding frog, there was a shift all the same. A shift in power. For now.

~~~~~

The Villain

She had been exquisite.

Trystan’s pride was in shambles, and yet he couldn’t bring himself to care. Not when the only thing he could picture was his sunshine assistant dressed in his colors, executing a flawless rescue mission. “I told you you can’t always be the one to do the saving around here.”

If he hadn’t been in so much pain, he would have laughed. But all he could feel in that moment was agony and awe. Tatianna had managed to eliminate the first, thankfully, but the latter was another matter altogether.

And now—well, now his brain refuses to process anything productive. For example, running his equally honorable and nefarious empire. Well, perhaps not equally.

There was a hesitant knock on his office door and he found his heart rate climbing. Sage—Evie wasn’t exactly prone to knocking, but she was one of the few employees who lingered beyond the closing bell these few days he’d been back. He supposed she didn’t have anything to rush back to, with her father held prisoner and her sister living here with her on the west side of the manor. The door opened just a few inches. “Mr. Maverine?”

Ah, not his little tornado, but her miniature. He clenched his jaw. Evie wasn’t his anything.

“Lyssa, what can I do for you?”

“I just thought—” She twisted the toe of her shoe in front of her awkwardly. “Never mind. I’m sure you're busy.” He raised a brow. He thought the girl had been accepting of his newly revealed identity as The Villain. But then, there was probably a reason she still addressed him so formally. He wasn’t sure how he felt about that, or why he cared about a child’s opinion at all. “I just thought… My sister has been acting very strange the past few days. Maybe it had something to do with work. And you could, um, help her?”

He cleared his throat. “Lyssa, if your sister has a work concern, believe me, she’d make it known.” Unless it didn’t have a thing to do with office tension. He sighed, resting a stiff hand on her shoulder when her worry seemed to linger. “We have a meeting every morning. If there’s an issue, it will be solved.”

“Hey,” a familiar voice called from outside. “I’m going to track down my sister and head off. Was there anything you… Well then. What’s going on here?”

“Nothing,” Lyssa said, the picture of innocence. “Mr. Maverine was just saying he wanted to talk to you before we went home. Right?”

He frowned at the girl, seeing his assistant take a step closer in his periphery. “Sir?”

“Indeed,” he conceded. “If you don’t mind waiting outside, Lyssa.”

“Oh, Tati said she’d take me back to my room.” She batted her lashes, turning to her older sister. “Take all the time you need. I’ll be fine.”

Of course this started with that meddlesome healer. Her retribution, he supposed, for dragging her into his business with Clare. Things on that front were “progressing��, he supposed. Now, it appeared his oldest friend thought it was his turn. Turning to the window, he gave Kingsley a pointed look, and for once the creature granted them true privacy, tailing the ten-year-old to who knows where. 

He wasn’t concerned. She knew the lower levels where his torture was conducted were off limits, and the foyer was now clear of any evidence of decapitation—a small courtesy he could grant Evangelina. After all, he wasn’t a complete monster. Then again, the office rumor mill had brought word of a little incident involving a certain village blacksmith’s head. He let his lips twitch up at the thought. He always knew she had a little ruthlessness to her.

“Sir. You wanted a word?”

“Right. Yes.” Her fingers grazed the back of her chair before she sat. It was an effort to not think back to those same fingers brushing his face as she marked his lack of sleep or slipping into his own when they sat knee-to-knee. Again, he found himself clearing his throat—by the deadlands, stalling.

“Sage, it would appear some of those closest to you feel something is wrong at the moment.” She stiffened. “You’ve been as diligent as always, but not quite yourself.”

“Sir.” Her shoulders slumped. “I suppose I haven’t. But it’s nothing that I can’t put behind me.”

He hummed. “I haven’t quite been myself either. I’ve heard a brush with death makes you a little more keen to express your feelings. I didn’t believe it was true. Until now.”

“Going soft?” Her voice didn’t have its usual teasing lilt. In fact, she sounded downright nervous. “Sir, that night the king intercepted us. I think of it often.”

Trystan nodded, clasping his hands behind his back before they could curl and reveal his anger. “I could imagine an event like that would leave a scar.”

“No. I mean, yes, but… What I meant was, you were under no obligation to protect me and you tried even when…”

He could see the question in her eyes. A decade of hatred, seeing Benedict as nothing more than a beast, and Trystan had fallen to his knees before the man for someone he claimed was just an employee, her death a mere inconvenience to him. Now he had to explain himself. “I find now that you’ve become important to me, Evangelina.” 

She startled at the use of her full name. He could count the number of times he’d said it in the past six months on one hand. A few steps and he was around his desk, perching on the edge, just shy of crowding the chair she occupied.

Who was he kidding? Any employee who crossed the threshold of his office had coined it “Evie’s chair” and knew better than to seat themselves.

“Sir?”

“I find when you are near, my emotions are not as easy to control, nor any sort of severity.”

She smirked. “Sir, I think that’s a fairly common affliction when it comes to people as optimistic as me. Not grounds for increased protection.”

“Sage,” he almost growled. Her smirk fell. “Perhaps you’ll let me continue. This isn’t particularly easy for me to confess.” She nodded, a signal for him to continue. “I find myself pleased that you are comfortable enough to touch me. That you seem to enjoy my company and want to know me, as you put it before. I knew when I hired you that you would be an exceptional addition to my empire. I did not realize I would develop feelings beyond a general appreciation.”

Her brows flicked upward. “You’re beginning to see where I’m going with this. Good.”

“I wouldn’t want to make assumptions, sir.” 

Her words were hardly more than a whisper, but he heard something vital in them. Hope. He could only pray that meant what he thought it meant. “It isn’t exactly professional for one to have feelings for a coworker, let alone those in our positions. But then, I can’t say I’m terribly concerned with textbook professionalism in this line of work. Also, I’m exempt from any and all rules when I choose to be.”

She laughed at that, likely wondering if she could get away with calling him audacious.

As if she wasn’t well aware she could quite literally get away with murder, in his eyes.

For the third, perhaps fourth time he cleared his throat. He never realized he had a nervous tic before he met this woman. “That said, I would not wish to pursue you if you were uninterested.”

She laughed again, high and sudden. “Sorry, it’s just… Kissing you was certainly no hardship. Nor was anything else, for that matter.” She bit her lip. “Even so, people will talk.”

“Ignore them.”

“You don’t.” His jaw clenched. “We both know there was a little more than impertinence to whatever Joshua Lightenson said. I’m not so naive that my imagination is lacking. And you threw him out a window.”

The crass accusation made against Evie wasn’t one he’d easily forget, and he felt no remorse for his response. He hadn’t been truly in love with her then. Imagining the reaction he’d have to a rumor like that now… The woman before him, so full of sunshine, thought she had seen the darkest parts of him. But if she saw the reality, she would come to truly fear him at last, he was certain.

How easily would she shy from him if she heard how Trystan truly felt about her father’s deceit? The pain he wanted to inflict when he heard she’d been sold off Warsen like an animal brought to market. He couldn’t bear to consider it.

“If there comes a day when you wish to punish those who have slighted you, I’d be the last person to stand in your way. Until you’re ready to take that action, love, I’ll wield the blade in your stead.” He thought back to her infiltration of Benedict’s fortress a few days prior, letting his lips curl. She’d never looked more beautiful. “Perhaps we aren’t too far off.”

She flushed slightly, due to the endearment he used for a second time now or his mention of her budding ruthlessness, he couldn’t be sure. Regardless, he found himself leaning closer, his right hand reaching to stroke his thumb across her heated cheekbone. There was a slight quiver to her next breath, cementing the rocky ground he stood on. Would he spook her if he leaned down?

The things he’d give for just one more taste of this woman, to have that soft vanilla linger on his tongue once again.

She stood, shifting forward. “Sir—”

“Trystan,” he murmured.

“Trystan.” Head tipped back to meet his eyes, lips slightly parted, her invitation was clear. Call him what you will, he had no intention of wasting it. For a moment there was nothing but the warm softness of her lips, seconds later the darting of her tongue gave him the courage to bring his arms around her, her own tentatively winding to the back of his neck, the fingers of one hand playing at his nape. 

Groaning, he broke the kiss, leaning down further to press a kiss to the pale skin of her throat, earning one of those soft little sounds he’d been blessed with at his father’s soirée. “You’ll be the death of me,” he panted. “I know it.”

She gave a sweet little giggle that lit up something inside of him. “Is this a good time to mention that dream you overheard me mentioning was truly filthy, and didn’t have a thing to do with mud or blood?”

He chuckled. “Little tornado, I’ve known that since the moment you said it. If there’s one thing you can’t do, it’s tell a convincing lie.” She squeaked as he spun them around, lifting her to sit on the edge of his desk before claiming her mouth once again. It was a perfect moment and it felt like nothing could touch them.

Until the seventh hour bell chimed. Once again, a precious moment interrupted by an ill-timed sound. Evie was the one to pull away, her withdrawal hesitant. “My sister. I might not have a two hour walk home anymore, but I still need to see to her care.”

“Of course. And I’m sure I’ve given you much to consider. Let me walk you back?”

She nodded, flitting back to her desk to gather what she’d left there originally. He only offered his arm. “Shall we?”

“We shall.”

~~~~~

AttV Taglist: @shallyne // @captain-of-the-gwynriel-ship I thought you might be interested too. Feel free to tell me if you're not.

[throughtrialbyfire]

WIP Wednesday <3

tagged by the amazing @saltymaplesyrup @skyrim-forever and @your-talos-is-problematic !!

tagging the incredible @thana-topsy @totally-not-deacon @viss-and-pinegar @dirty-bosmer @orfeoarte @changelingsandothernonsense @mareenavee @thequeenofthewinter @archangelsunited @gilgamish @wispstalk and anyone who wants to participate, consider yourself tagged!!

this week i bring a section of the rewritten chapter 9 of Cycle of the Serpent. i'm planning to do some final edits to chapter 8 and 9 both and update those in the fic, finish 10, and then do some tiny editing for consistency in the rest of the published chapters in the next couple of weeks. for now, have this! <3

Thick, impenetrable night slid through the cracks of the inns walls, cool air and occasional passes of torchlight from outside bringing slivers of light into the otherwise dim hall. In the rented upstairs room, the flickers from the hall found their way in, bathing it in a bronze hue. Sleep, the elusive beast, sometimes captured and sometimes wild and far away, had wrestled itself from Athenath's grasp minutes ago. So now, he lay there, eyes fixed on the ceiling, the heavy wooden beams, the aged surfaces revealing previously unseen shapes as his mind tried making sense of the dark. There were promises to keep, come tomorrow. Whispers from under the balcony flew up through the wooden floors, the conversations of some patrons up well into the night. The constant hiss of syllables against teeth, the sharp, whistle sounds of them, made the Altmer want to grab the pillow and shove it over their ears and clutch it until his hands forced themselves loose from aching. But he couldn't do that, and he definitely didn't want to wake his friends, so they lay there, chest tight at the agitation. The shuffle of blankets rose up to end the quiet. Just Emeros, turning over in his sleep. They glanced to him and then returned to staring at the ceiling, brow knit, the sound of whispers softly fading. Finally. A sigh of relief had nearly left their mouth, but they stifled it, his focus again on the two Mer beside them. He didn't want to wake them. They'd both earned the rest. Athenath could hear Wyndrelis breathing, but aside from the rise and fall of his side when he did, he resembled more a corpse, entirely still and curled into himself. Emeros, meanwhile, had his forearm tucked under the pillow, his other arm around himself, blankets tight to his form.

The bronze light dimmed. A torch blown out. The night must be deep into itself, somewhere in the latest hours before morning would come and wake everyone up with its crowing. Athenath had blamed his sleeplessness on the whispering below the bed, but now, it was as though that had just been the catalyst, and now he was truly awake and alone, and unable to creep out of the bed if he even wanted to. At this rate, they'd look like a draugr in the morning, shambling up to Dragonsreach and barely forming the words to tell the Jarl of what happened to Helgen, what happened to them.

He shut his eyes tight. Gods, they didn't want to think about that day. But it still found a way to invade their thoughts, even when they were making all the effort in the world to go back to sleep. Their mind ignored every attempt to shove the fires aside, Athenath's arms wrapping tight around their middle as he stubbornly tried to push his mind to something else. What about the nights in Anvil, walking the salt-scented paths through town? And the dares to go up and knock on the old haunted mansion? What about the laughter of their old friends, and the house they grew up in? What about the shopkeep with the strange necklace, and the strangers in town in their black coats, and… Athenath's eyes shot open. The dark was still the dark. The same thing he'd closed off. But now, it seemed to wrap around them, tighter than they could bear. They fixed their gaze on the ceiling and thought of poems he'd memorized on the road with troubadours from High Rock, or the songs that they'd thought about writing down and quickly forgot, or the bards who sent them on this damn journey in the first place, but none of it replaced the sinking feeling in his stomach, like he was desperately clinging to a broken raft far out to sea. "What are you doing up?" Emeros whispered. He didn't need to open his eyes. He knew from jokes shared at the campfire that Athenath never slept on their back, and here they were, and he could feel the way the blankets laid over them and how different it was from when they were truly well asleep. Athenath shot their gaze to him, brow knit.

"Just can't fall back asleep," they whispered back. Emeros cracked an eye open, face half-buried in his pillow, hair tousled along his neck. He pushed a hand through the front strands, a couple small noises leaving his throat as though he were returning to the waking world by force. "Tomorrow, I fear, is going to be dreadfully long. Don't keep yourself awake, or you'll regret it." "It's not-" Athenath inhaled, held it, and exhaled, "I'm not. I know." "Then what's the problem?" "I woke up, couldn't fall back asleep, and now I'm just… Up. When I wish I wasn't." A long pause. Emeros sucked his inner cheek between his teeth on one side, then repeated to the other. "Did you have a nightmare?" "No," Athenath blinked curiously at the Bosmer, "did you?"

The alchemist rolled slowly over onto his back, palm draping over his eyes, other hand still firmly beneath the pillow. He inhaled, moved his hand down his face, before his arm came to rest over his middle. "I suppose one could say that fire has never been my favorite thing." The bard didn't reply, laying there, watching him as well as they could. He sucked in his cheek, then exhaled, peering at Athenath out the corner of his eye and the smallest turn of his head. "It'll be morning before you know it. Try not to keep yourself awake." The smallest fringe of concern at the edge of his words caught the Altmer off-guard, who only continued to watch him quietly. Emeros' gaze shifted. "You too, Wyndrelis. I know you're listening in." Wyndrelis snorted. "How did you guess?" At this, Emeros merely grinned, rolled over, and said, "I saw you move."