#it is ABSOLUTELY batshit to me to be LIVING IN HIS HOUSE like even when I try to go home ur still there

[firelise]

And it is absolutely NOT lost on me that the ONE THING Joe asked Ming to do two years later he STILL HASNT DONE he said PACK UR SHIT U BUM AND GET TF OUT MY HOUSE,,, oooooooweeeeee if I found out that my abusive boyfriend not only fucked up my life but that they had PURCHASED and were now LIVING in my house still not respecting my wishes the way that I would be so pissed is indescribable

[dontbesoweirdkira]

A/N: I love platonic yandere Johnny Cage so much. Here’s Johnny obsessing over a new and upcoming talent. He wants to protect you and boost your career but he ends up going overboard with it.

Inspired by

Warnings: Yandere themes (stalking, murder, physical abuse and manipulation) blah blah blah it’s a very fun time for you!! :D

Request: open 24/7

Masterlist

I think we as a community all agree that Yandere Johnny Cage is absolutely batshit insane…I mean he’s already operating on a certain kind of time usually but it’s just cranked up to 1000% with you.

Everything in his life just has to be picture perfect, his hair, movies, cars, house, and…you. Especially you! He sees himself in you, full of life and absolutely beautiful! You will have the absolute best if you just do exactly what he says.😀👍

Don’t get me wrong, he absolutely adores the crap out of you and he truly means well. He’s trying his absolute best to take care of you, he’s just an emotionally unregulated fuck.

When Johnny saw your audition tape he just knew you were destined to become America’s next sweetheart. It’s so hard to come by a natural like you in today’s world so he’d be a fool to just let you go.

His career is steadily on the decline so why not try to save it by living vicariously through you. If his name is attached to the new hot shit then he’s sure to skyrocket back into fame.

Johnny coming to you with this deal at first glance was the dream! THE JOHNNY CAGE LIKES YOU?! He thinks you’re star material?? Who wouldn’t take up this one in a lifetime opportunity.

Press conferences, interviews, red carpet and product reviews…Johnny kept you booked with little to no free time.

There was no saying no to this aswell. Take a good look at what you signed sweetheart! You’re his property. You have a script to follow and you better follow it.

What you wear, the way you walk, talk and dress are all under his creative direction.

Just smile at the camera, y/n and say how he’s the best co-star in the entire world and how perfect it is working with for him!

He’d flip out so fucking bad if you even suggest you wanted to leave the spotlight.

He’s the main reason anyone ever even looked your way! Johnny is the “only one” who cares for you, don’t you think that he knows what’s best for you?

He brought the shirt on your back and the food in the fridge and if you want to be an ungrateful little cunt, he’ll take it away from you.

He’ll tell you how if you really didn’t want to be here, he’d just hire someone else to take your place. And not just as America’s sweetheart…as his too.

Yeah you're an adult and he technically has no legal rights over you once your contract is up but imagine the constant conditioning that you’re going to be nothing without him.

He set up everything in a way where you can’t escape. The house he “gifted” you is all under his name, so is that fancy car and even your cell phone.

Even though he consistently threatens to disown, replace and ruin you, he will go absolutely psychotic if you decide to ignore him.

Oh and that cell phone I mentioned earlier? He’s constantly tracking you with it. Has access to personal files and even a parental mode at his disposal.

The revival of his career is crumbling in front of his eyes…worst yet, the entire WORLD.

He’ll blow up your phone with tons of texts and voice messages, spend copious amounts of money on gifts to bribe you back, kick up the charm too and tell you he didn’t mean what he said and that he’s such a terrible mentor.

He cries how he just wanted a better life for you and how he just wants to do something great and if all of this work fails he’ll become even more of a joke.

If that doesn't work he’ll even go as far as to try to manipulate you by saying he’s going to terminate all of his projects, delete his social media and tell the world he’s such a horrible man and that he doesn’t deserve any of the fame he has because he’s hurt you.

Of course you come back and start doing as he says again, only for the cycle to repeat.

Johnny isn’t the absolute worst, he does protect you from any potential dangers out there. He works extremely hard to keep your image very clean and pure even though you’re in your 20's . As much as you hate basically being stuck in a girl next door persona, he explains how once you start becoming a sex icon like him…the exploitation becomes worse.

Johnny definitely has been through and seen a lot of shit so he’s got the right spirit but wrong execution.

He even beat the shit out of a producer and got arrested because he tried forcing himself on you.

Speaking of getting arrested for fighting, this is such a common occurrence for him that you hold onto some of his credit cards just in case you have to bail him out on any given day.

Has threatened to murder multiple people in great detail for making you uncomfortable…now I’m not saying he’s ever carried out those plans but have you ever seen any of those co-stars ever again? Eh..Johnny said they just weren’t working with the camera.

He will vet any jobs you want to take and hand pick the safest sets and crews for you to work with. Your real manager doesn’t even argue with him anymore, he just accepts the fact Johnny is the self proclaimed one.

Hey well at least your idol doesn’t interfere in your romantic life! He just has to run background checks, stalk their socials and inner circles, be there on the date…nothing major….

You just can’t hook up with anyone, y/n. Can you imagine what this would do to your image??

Don’t bring up the hypocrisy of him practically dating most of the tri-state area….in the past year!

Has thought about getting a conservatorship over you but has been rejected because if anyone needs one, it’s really him.

[anxiousnerdwritings]

Bellatrix Lestrange having a daughter around Tonks/Charlie’s age who is like a younger, more unhinged but still somewhat replicated version of her this is very, very inspired by Jenifer Check, I love her sm so when you think of Lestrange!Daught it’s pretty much Chrck lmao which she thought she’d absolutely love except her kid won’t do anything she asks for her and absolutely will not serve the Dark Lord cause she worships the ground the Reader walks on, whatever they want and whenever they want it, she’ll do anything for them

Narcissa can’t help cause she doesn’t have a daughter for plots sake we’ll say Cygnus raised her alone meaning the kid had mad freedom, old man just wanted to chill after losing 2 of 3 daughters over politics so Bellatrix goes to Andromeda

and for a solid five minutes all Andromeda can do is laugh because her older sister is coming to her for vague parenting advise

inevitably Andromeda connects the dots and then starts laughing again pointing out the hilarious parallel about Bellatrix being obsessed with Voldemort and now her daughter being obsessed with her own morally questionable criminal or better yet the Reader isn’t a criminal but gets up to sketchy shit sometimes and doesn’t understand why this pretty, violent girl is following them around but goes with it anyways

worst part is that after Rodolphus and Rabastan died which I assume they did in Azkaban then Lestrange!Daughter would’ve inherited the vault, cutting off the death eaters funding and access to the Hufflepuff’s Cup hidden inside, because she’s not gonna betray her darling for some nose-less fuck

Are we talking like an OC?? Cause I actually really love that idea. Especially, regarding Harry’s twin!Reader or something like that, just the parallels between the two only Belatrix’s daughter is on the literal complete opposite side. But in the circumstances it would be Harry and twin!Reader with this older girl staliking following them around, especially outside of Hogwarts. Like, she just hangs out outside of 4 Privet Drive just watching, even breaking in and just wanting to be close to the Reader. You can bet Bellatrix’s daughter would give the Dursley’s a piece of her mind. Or maybe even just take Harry and the Reader to live with her.

I just imagine the Reader waking up in a completely new place all by themself with this older girl hovering over them. And the Reader being kind of okay with it since they’re away from the Dursley’s but they ask their captor/“savior” to go back and get their brother too.

The Lestrange house/manor/estate would probably become the new Order of the Phoenix headqaurters, mainly because Bellatrix’s daughter won’t part with the Reader so they can’t go with Harry to live with Sirius so Sirius moves in to keep an eye on everything. And his reaction to his batshit crazy cousin’s batshit child being obsessed with one of his godchildren would really be something. Like, FUCK NO!?!?!

Like, I could imagine Bellatrix’s daughter having been obsessed with the Potter twins since it came out that they were able to survive and best Voldemort even when being just mere babes. And just her like revolving her world around getting to meet them or something. Maybe when Bellatrix’s daughter was younger but still older than Harry and the Reader she ended up wandering to 4 Privet Drive or having her house elf take her to meet them or something and she did, even if it was for a few minutes.

When it comes to the idea of Bellatrix’s daughter being obsessed with a criminal or a bad witch/wizard, I could just imagine Potter!Twin!Reader having nicked something small or lied about something insignificant and from then on Bellatrix’s daughter was like “That’s the one for me”.

Also, just the idea of Bellatrix’s daughter having stalked Harry and his Twin!Reader for most of their life. Like, I could see them getting Cygnus or their house elf to take them to 4 Privet Drive and she would just watch the whole place like a hawk. Never taking her eyes off of it and getting excited at the smallest bit of movement or liveliness at the home. Or even having the house elf sneak her into Harry and the Reader’s school to pass herself off as one of the students and getting to befriend the Reader even just for a brief time. But afterwards, Bellatrix’s daughter would use that as her excuse to interact with the Dursley’s. She’d happily knock on their door asking the Reader to play with her, that she was their friend from school as to not draw any suspicion. Hell, Bellatrix’s daughter would go as far as getting one of the houses on Privet Drive just to stay close and ending up living there the rest of the time the twins are across the street/down the road.

[ltbarnes]

‘Tis the Damn Season

Stark U #6

Summary: It’s Christmas Eve, you’re too drunk, you’ve basically avoided Bucky and Steve for six months and the last person you’d want to meet at this party just happens to be yelling in your face. The panic attack is inevitable, really.

Pairing: college!Steve Rogers x reader, college!Bucky Barnes x reader, college!Sam Wilson x reader, college!Natasha Romanoff x reader

Word count: 7.8k

Warnings: so much angst, past SA, alcohol, talk about violence, Christmas celebrations, things finally start to happen, kissing :)

A/N: Happy holidays to anyone who celebrates and to those who don’t, I hope you have a good few days anyways <3 This is the first I’ve posted since July which is awful of me so sorry

Series Masterlist

Main Masterlist

You didn't see them all summer. The day after your last exam was over, you bolted back to your hometown and spent the entire summer selectively ignoring messages from Bucky and Natasha and Steve and Sam asking what you were doing and how your summer was going and maybe you could all meet up and go somewhere and—

It's December now, and every goddamn day since June you have been trying to figure out if what Bucky said to you when you were sick was a fever-induced hallucination or if he really, actually, said that he wanted you to take his last name someday. It made you panic, because the entire spring term you tried to convince yourself that your feelings towards them were batshit crazy and any inkling to them feeling the same was a delusional reach, grasping for crumbs that in reality were just friendly gestures. And then he says that.

"She's just practicing her future last name, Stevie."

So, yeah...things have been weird. Three months have passed since classes started and none of you want to mention what happened right before summer break. Actually, with each day passing you feel more like maybe it was just a hallucination or a very vivid dream, because both Bucky and Steve act like it never even happened. Bucky even had his mouth latched onto some blonde sophomore at a dumb, stupid frat party on Halloween. You went home right after and cried for two hours. But it's not hard to conclude that even if there was some spark or connection or anything beyond friendship with either of them before summer, it has died out completely.

The subject will probably never be broached. You're too scared of confrontation and definitely too scared of revealing unreciprocated feelings for that to happen. The slightly tense atmosphere in the loft is entirely your fault—your lack of communication with anyone in the group during the summer has made them a little confused, you guess. You mostly spend time in your room, giving excuses of studying and talking with parents on the phone and 'I'm just tired, sorry'.

Spending too much time with Natasha scares you too, because she reads you so well and you don't want her to know how hurt and unhappily in love you are. She'll try to do something about it and then Steve and Bucky will catch on and then you will end up rejected and labeled as crazy, because who the fuck falls in love with two people?

That doesn't mean you've managed to avoid her. Living in the same apartment as her definitely makes that hard, but just the fact that she won't let you makes it impossible. Last week she even broke into your room when you had it locked, because apparently she knows how to pick a lock open in under ten seconds. She absolutely knows something is off, but so far she hasn't brought it up.

Natasha is the sole reason why you're now standing in the backyard of some rich kid's house just off campus, surrounded by smoke from cheap cigarettes and fairy lights hung up between the trees and one too many shots of vodka in your blood. It's December utterly and thoroughly—there's snow on the ground but people still haven't accepted the fact that wearing their short dresses and tank tops without jackets does not work anymore. Ice drops hangs from the tree where you stand, listening to Natasha talk with a drunken girl looking for her phone.

It's fun, sure. Not the worst party you've been to and not the best either. You talked to the girl you've been sitting next to in History class earlier for almost twenty minutes. Got free vodka. It's Friday and you don't have any exams to study for. None of that makes you forget that things aren't the same.

"Nat. Nat." You poke her shoulder repeatedly, obnoxiously probably, until she glances over her shoulder with a slight glare.

"What is it?"

"I'm gonna get 'nother drink. Inside," you tell her, pointing with your thumb towards a hedge even though it was meant to be the door. Natasha seems to understand anyway.

"Okay. Don't wander off too long. And come back here right after."

"Yes, ma'am." You give her a half-assed salute before turning around, swaying slightly in your step. It's the uneven and slippery surface of the snow-covered ground, you tell yourself.

There's a lot of people here, is what you note as you push yourself through the seemingly endless crowds of the living room. You kind of hate that they haven't played a single song you like and if Steve was here he would agree, because he doesn't listen to any music made after the internet was born. Bucky would then make fun of Steve and you would laugh and everything would be right in the world. Instead you're pressed to kitchen drawers of a dark kitchen, cheap vodka mixed with soda running down your throat.

The kitchen is crowded too, but either way it's a respite from whatever the hell's going on in the living room. Jumping up and down and calling it dancing (you were doing the same the hour before). You're too drunk to be miserable about everything happening in your life this entire term and much too drunk to feel the absolute atrocious taste of your drink.

In half an hour you will probably throw up and tomorrow will be spent nursing a horrible hangover, but those consequences seem insignificant right now. You just keep thinking about the image of Bucky shoving his tongue down someone's throat that wasn't yours. It was heartbreaking. That he's not here is a good thing, because you'd either witness the same thing again or actually bring it up to him, and that's much worse. God knows it's only a matter of time before Steve does the same thing.

Someone pushes into you, forcing the liquid from your cup to spill from the confines of the red plastic onto your dress. It's black, so it doesn't really matter, but the alcohol still seeps through the fabric until it reaches your skin.

"Shit, fuck—"

Your hand tries to somehow dry your dress by fanning the fabric, which obviously doesn't help very much, and the paper towels placed on the counter in front of you escape your drunken mind completely.

Fresh air and icy winter winds are the only options, so you push through and stumble into people on your way outside. It takes a lot longer than it should. You can't really see much considering the dizziness and darkness inside, but somehow, magically, you are eventually dragging your way towards Natasha who stands in the same place as before.

"Nat. Natty—I spilled. Look."

The black dress with the now wet patch is lifted towards her by your hands, highlighted for her to see. You sway as you tell her.

"Jesus, you can barely stand straight," Natasha answers with a stabling hand to your shoulder, shaking her head to herself instead of focusing on the very urgent fact that you spilled on yourself.

Natasha turns to the girl she's talking to, saying something you can't bother to decipher, before stepping aside with a guiding arm around you.

"We gotta get you home before you embarrass yourself for real," she mumbles underneath her breath.

"I heard that," you whisper, a loud hiccup following. Whoops.

She rolls her eyes, fishing her phone up from her pocket.

"Who—who you writing? To?" you ask, slightly aware that your sentences lack correct structure but not really caring. As long as the message comes across, right?

"I'm texting Steve. I can't drive and you sure as hell can't."

Even in your state, panic instantly sets in over the mention of his name even though you live in the same goddamn apartment.

"Nooo. No Steve."

Your hand grasps for her phone. Nat pulls it away from your reach much quicker than you can comprehend.

"Yes Steve. You're a mess and he's the only one with the patience to take care of this level of drunk. I don't care that you're avoiding them for some stupid goddamn reason," she tells you.

"Nat," you whine. "He can't see me. I spilled!"

She just glares at you. "I swear to god, Y/n...nobody cares that you spilled your drink. I can't even see it."

"I'm so drunk!"

"Yeah, I know. Just—just stay here, okay? I'm going to get you some water so you can sober up by the time your precious Steve comes for us."

Natasha is heading inside before you can process her words. Waiting in place for a few minutes turns into an eternity in your mind. She should know better than to leave you unattended and then expect you to stay—really, it's her own fault. You will accept no blame if Nat gets mad at you for going inside again. It's cold and you need to go to the bathroom. Also, you're mad at her. Telling Steve to come get you? That's just...embarrassing.

Once again you're shouldering your way past people on about the same level of intoxication as you. There's a bad remix of a Christmas song playing loudly. Makes you wanna punch whoever's phone is connected to the speaker. The bathroom is so, so far away. It's something the architect of this house should've thought of before he put it at the very end of this long hallway you're currently making your way through, but clearly he didn't have you in mind.

"Fuck! Watch where you're going, asshole," some girl seethes at you as your shoulder nudges against hers. A nudge is an exaggeration—you brushed against it at most. She's probably an aggressive drunk, that's all.

You don't answer, instead fumbling for the door handle to what you believe might be the bathroom. Some couple is making out in here, the girl with her ass planted on the edge of the bathtub and the guy nearly devouring her face. Doesn't look very pleasant, if you're honest.

"Out. I need to pee."

Your hands find their way to their shoulders, ushering the lovesick pair out of the room without much protest from either of them. They're still making out as they walk out.

Despite your less than sober state, you manage to remember to lock the door after they leave. Some of the mascara that previously inhabited your lashes has moved down to rest under your eyes. You rub it away, smudging it slightly, but it just makes you look a little more like one of those cool girls you always see on campus. It will do.

You kind of want to throw up, but decide against it. That hasn't happened since you were a freshman, and you'd like to keep it that way. Staring at yourself in the mirror occupies your time in the bathroom instead, swaying slightly with your hands placed on the cold sink. If Steve saw you now he would be so disappointed. At least you imagine he would be—that fatherly look on his face as he tells you how you need to be more mindful with your alcohol consumption. Did you even watch who poured your drink? Never go anywhere alone at a party. Especially not a frat one. You know better than this, Y/n.

Steve's imaginary voice is interrupted by someone banging on the door, shouting for you to hurry the fuck up. It's been over ten minutes, but to you it just feels like three, and Natasha has been looking for you ever since she returned to the garden with a glass of water in her hand and no one to give it to. It's not her banging on the door, unfortunately, but instead a dickhead guy who has no patience. Can't a girl spend some time alone in the bathroom doing nothing anymore?

The guy glares at you as you push the door open, stumbling out into the crowded hallway while paying him no mind. It's dark save for the red LED-lights plastered on the walls, making it feel like a seedy dive bar instead of a seedy house. You don't see much.

"Hey! Hey, you—the girl with the black dress!"

Someone pushes their way past the people talking and making out and leaning against the walls, shoving through them as he searches for your attention. Of course, you don't really think it's you he's after. Half of the people at this party are wearing black dresses.

A clammy hand finds purchase on your shoulder, halting you in your less than gracious steps and turning you around with ease. Head tilted back, gaze running upwards until they settle on the face of a quite attractive guy. He doesn't look pretty happy to see you. You're not very happy to see him either.

The blood drains from your face, stealing away all that alcohol-induced heat within a second as his curly hair and green eyes look down at you with that same contempt he had when Sam dragged him away from the kitchen almost a year ago. You had hoped you never had to see him again. It was a naive thing to wish for.

"Y/n, right?" he asks bitterly. You don't answer, but he takes your silence as a yes. It was probably a rhetorical question anyway. His slightly crooked nose was perfectly straight the last time you saw him. His face is committed to your memory, burned in to taunt you on sleepless nights and everytime an unknown man walks a little too closely when you're out alone. "Your little boyfriend broke my fucking nose. You know that?"

Another rhetorical question. Definitely more threatening. Might be the tight grip he has on your arm too. Either way, his mere presence has apparently stripped away your ability to breathe normally. It feels like you've been running to the point of nausea, dark spots dancing before your eyes as he shakes you in attempt to get an answer.

"You ruined my fucking reputation. For what? I barely touched you. Such a sensitive fucking bitch, going around telling everyone that..." His voice trails off, ushering you into a quiet corner when he realizes people are staring. "Got nothing to say now, huh? Been so good at running your fucking mouth before, haven't you?"

"Let me go," you whisper, voice wavering. You don't sound assertive at all, instead weak and fearful. It's what you feel, as an upbeat, slightly bad cover rendition of "All I Want For Christmas" booms through the house. Girls shrieking in excitement over in the living room reaches your ears. You would have joined them if you weren't currently cornered by the guy who assaulted you in your own kitchen a year ago.

"No, we're going to fucking talk. What the fuck were you doing, going around saying shit like that about me to everyone?"

"I...I didn't..." Your lips part between words, breathing out shakily, trying to articulate sentences long enough to make sense. Why can't you speak? Why can't you even think?

"You didn't what?" he seethes. "You're such a fucking bitch, you know that? Acts all innocent and hides behind her friends. My nose is fucking crooked forever because of that fuckhead you sent after me."

Is it the alcohol that renders you this goddamn useless? There's just tears springing to your eyes, unable to say anything in defense of yourself. Can't even walk away.

He pushes you against the wall, knocking the breath out of you. To other people it probably looks like you're hooking up. At least that's what you hope they think, because otherwise you want to wonder why no one is intervening.

"Joshua, please let me go," you tell him again, even more pathetic this time. You're crying now, curled in on yourself in attempt to make yourself as small as possible.

"Fuck, you're so—"

"She told you to let her go."

The assertive, familiar tone booms through the hallway. It doesn't really, can probably only be heard by the people around you, but it feels like it when Steve's tall figure pushes through with hasty steps towards where you and Joshua stand, followed by a glaring Bucky with his jaw clenched so fucking tightly. A sob of relief is drawn from your lips, muffled by the back of your hand.

Joshua steps back instantly. Kind of funny to think that he's so scared of those two, and sad to think that he only respects a 'no' when it comes from men.

"Nice nose job," Bucky speaks up, pointing at his own nose as he stares at Joshua's crooked one, courtesy of the damn good punch he managed to land with his left fist all those months ago.

"Fuck you," Joshua growls, taking a step forward in attempt to appear more threatening or something. He doesn't really succeed—both Bucky and Steve towers over him in both length and build, unrelenting in their stance. As if they're stone walls keeping out the enemy.

Steve rolls his his eyes, shaking his head with a sigh. "Just get out of here. Don't go near her ever again, you hear me? Bucky's glad to fix your nose otherwise. Break it right back. Can't promise the result will be very good, though."

Bucky stands slightly behind Steve, raising an eyebrow in Joshua's direction that tells him there's not even a trace of a lie in the blonde giant's statement.

"You—fuck this." Joshua throws his hands in the air, aiming the most distasteful glare over his shoulder in your direction, before pushing past Steve and Bucky with a shove.

Your body instantly deflates, the tension melting off your limbs as you close your eyes and lean back against the wall. Gentle, firm hands instantly reach your cheeks, your arms, searching for any trace Joshua might have left behind on your body.

"Hey, hey. Y/n, are you okay? Did he touch you? Sweetheart, look at me."

Bucky's voice draws you out of the anxious, panicked state you slipped into, fluttering your eyelids open to see his worried frown and an equally worried Steve looming behind him. Wet cheeks and red-rimmed eyes greet them, pupils dilated from the alcohol.

"Y/n, are you hurt? How long have you two been talking?" Steve adds, looming over you in such a way that his large frame blocks out any of the colorful lights plastered on the walls.

They already know you're drunk—Natasha was the one to call them here to get you, after all. Maybe your silence and obvious intoxication makes it clear to them after a couple of seconds that an answer from you is a few minutes away, a few miles of distance from this foggy, packed house. Nothing more is said or requested from you. Instead your trembling form is led away and out into the biting cold by gentle hands belonging to your friends. Even your slight shock can't shield you from freezing your ass off as soon as you get out into the fresh air again, teeth beginning to chatter within the second step on tightly packed snow.

"What the—where the hell have you been? I swear to god, Y/n, I was gone for two minutes! I've been looking for you everywhere!" an angry Natasha yells, running perfectly towards the three of you down the slippery lawn to where Steve is currently helping you into the backseat of his car.

"Nat," Steve says, giving her a pleading look that silently tells her it's not the time for a scolding.

"What? I told her to stay put when I went to get her a glass of water and she just disappeared out of nowhere. Slippery motherfucker while drunk, I swear she'll be the death of me—"

"Nat," he repeats, sternly this time. In that tone only he masters, silencing even the most eager tongues with a single exhale. "She met Joshua. And she's not okay. So please, leave your yelling for tomorrow and get in the car."

Steve holds the passenger door open, gesturing for the seat beside Bucky. He's turning the key, letting the car warm up properly while he clutches the wheel tightly. Natasha's irritated frown turns into a concerned one, nodding silently before slipping inside. Steve closes the door shut behind her.

You lean your head against the frost-covered window, fogged up by your breath two inches away from it, and close your eyes. Steve leans over you, reaching for the belt and fastens it over your torso. You forgot. He never does.

It's no surprise, doesn't startle you despite your absentminded state, when his warm hand cups your cheek, turns your head to face him. Soft, blue gaze and ridiculously long lashes. It's nothing but contrasting against the clouds released from your mouths with each breath—warm, concerned...loving? Maybe.

"Are you okay?" he whispers, thumb rubbing over your cheek.

You nod. "Yes. I am now."

Bucky puts his foot on the gas, turns on the blinker, and pulls away from the curb, out onto the streets. It's nearly soundless. The usual rumble from wheels against road is cushioned by the snow.

"This was a mistake. Sorry, I can't—" Sam gags, moving his head out of the bathroom before returning his presence within a few seconds. "You're a real shitty guard, Nat. Why'd you let her drink this much?"

All four of your roommates are gathered in the bathroom, surrounding you as if you're a newly born lion cub in a zoo, while you puke your guts out into the toilet. Steve is kneeling on the floor beside you, a comforting hand rubbing your back, while Bucky sits a few feet away with a glass of water in hand, ready for whenever you need it.

"Fuck you. You weren't there—she was like a goddamn ghost, just slipping away everytime I blinked. Looked fucking everywhere for her. 'S not my fault," Nat answers, residing on the floor of the shower in lack of space.

"Not true," you murmur in answer, your voice echoing off the ceramic surrounding you.

You're pretty much done throwing up, it's just the exhaustion following that's keeping you slumped over on the bathroom tile. Your hand stretches out in Bucky's direction, reaching for the glass of water that's gulped down within a few seconds.

"Careful. Gonna get sick again if you do it this fast," Bucky says, unable to help himself from brushing away the stray drops of water running down your chin.

The gesture is nothing new from him. He did it when you were sick all those months ago too, and you haven't forgotten it at all. His thumb gently rubbing over your skin as if you're precious, something deserving of gentleness, is engraved into your mind. You're thankful for getting most of the alcohol out of your system, because you might not have remembered this moment in the morning if not. Fuck it if you forgot the way his pupils widen just slightly, as if he didn't mean to, as if he couldn't help himself.

"I'm fine," you whisper in answer, clearing your throat. "Got it all out."

"Good." Steve's hand moves up from your back to your head, stroking it for just a second before withdrawing his touch. "Let's get you to the couch."

"I don't wanna go to the couch. Wanna be in my bed." You're pouting. Maybe there is some trace of alcohol left in you.

"Steve and Buck will feel much less like creepy stalkers if they stare at you sleeping on the couch instead of hovering around your bedroom all night like a bunch of pervs," Natasha speaks up. A snort follows after, as if it was a joke and not a statement. Definitely tipsy too, despite unwilling to admit such a weakness.

Steve raises a reprimanding eyebrow Natasha's way, telling her to shut her mouth with just his gaze. She smirks in answer.

"Don't listen to her. A fucking liar," Bucky remarks, but there's still some form of amusement in his expression. He can't even deny the statement—he is going to watch over you. Doesn't really matter if it's in the living room or in your bedroom. "Now let's get you up. C'mon."

With a push from your arms against the cold tile, you're standing on two legs again. Steve is hovering his hand near your back, ready to support if the vodka decides to topple you over. But you're fine—just tired now.

For ten minutes it feels things are back to normal again. On the living room couch, nestled in between them, your head leaning on Steve's shoulder as a stupid Hallmark Christmas movie plays on the tv. Sam and Natasha are in their rooms sleeping, and for a few moments you forget why you kept your distance. Everything would have been good if this is how the night would end. If Steve didn't have to address the past six months.

"I've missed this. With us," Steve whispers as he strokes your shoulder absentmindedly, like it's second nature to him to have his hands on your skin. "You've been so distant lately. For months, Y/n."

The room instantly becomes tense enough to make you nauseous. A clearing of your throat, an attempt to sit up out of Steve's hold and away from this conversation that you'd much rather avoid is futile—it's instantly stopped by Bucky's hand on your chest that pushes you right back.

"No," he says sternly. "You're gonna sit right here, sweetheart, and tell us why you've barely let us see you since fall term started. 'Cause it's sure as fuck not something I take lightly. Why have you avoided us?"

You look away, shaking your head to yourself as you try to talk yourself down. You will not break. You will not confess a single thing. You are going to act like everything is fine and you are not currently freaking out being sandwiched between the only two men you would gladly be sandwiched between under different circumstances than this.

"What are you even talking about?" you answer meekly. It's clear as soon as the words come out of your mouth that no one is falling for your innocent act, not even sweet, naive Steve. Then again, you're doing a particularly bad job. "Both of you think I've been distant?"

"Cut the bullshit, Y/n. If we've done something wrong, just say so." Bucky bites his cheek, glancing down for just a second, but it's enough to let his vulnerability slip. He's hurt.

A wave of guilt instantly washes over your body, an unusual feeling. During all these months of avoiding any interaction with Bucky and Steve besides the necessary ones, you didn't think that they'd actually mind your absence that much. They might not be hopelessly in love with you like you are with them, but they're still your friends. Friends miss each other.

"Or if it's something personal, you can tell us, you know? Is it anxiety, or are you feeling generally low, or...?" Steve chips in, trying to drown out Bucky's accusatory tone.

"No, no...I'm not depressed, Steve. And none of you have done anything wrong, I promise," you say hastily, shutting down their concerns as quickly as possible while trying to buy yourself time to come up with an excuse. "I just...needed some alone time."

Bucky rolls his eyes, shaking his head. Sassy man. "Bullshit again. You've spent a bunch of time with Natasha. Sam, too. It's us you're avoiding." He points to himself and Steve with his hand. "It's been almost six months, Y/n. What the hell's your problem?" He pushes himself off the couch, standing up and blocking your view of the tv. It's as if his frustration is all contained while sitting down.

"Bucky," Steve scolds, glaring up at his friend. He's not appreciating the tone at all, that's for sure.

"There's no problem, Bucky," you tell him, shaking your head. Trying to dismiss this entire conversation before you reveal too much.

"No! Y/n, I'm going fucking crazy! This is the first time you've even let me touch you in half a year!" Bucky yells, a pleading tone in his voice that breaks your heart just a little. Because it's true. You have barely even hugged since June. You've barely talked for more than five minutes at a time.

"Don't yell at her, for god's sake, Bucky," Steve adds, his hands on your shoulders and ready to get up from the couch any second.

"What the hell's going on with you, huh?!" Bucky continues, ignoring Steve's statement. His eyes are solely focused on you, void of the usual softness. There's just anger. "Cause if you can't stand us, then tough fucking luck. I can have your fucking things moved out by tomorrow for all I care. Can move right into Walker's dorm. Bet he'd accept you with open fucking arms if you get to your knees and—“

The drop of your heart down to your stomach can almost be heard, an echoing, hollow sound. You're sure of it. Bucky shuts his mouth, as if he realizes what exactly was about to come out of it. What is not even a second of silence feels like a whole minute, before Steve shoots up from his seat beside you and grabs Bucky by the collar, rattling the whole room with the force in which he nearly tackles Bucky against the wall with. The tangy taste of iron starts to fill your mouth, your teeth biting down on your lip hard enough to draw blood. There's tears lingering in your eyes but you can't hold them back, not anymore.

"You don't fucking talk to her like that, you bast—"

"I love you! It’s ‘cause I fucking love you guys!” you yell, a pathetic sob marring the words. “So I’m fucking sorry that I’ve avoided you two but I’m trying to get over these goddamn—these feelings, but I can’t, okay! I can’t!”

The bitter delivery is punctuated by the sleeve of your sweater wiping away the tears furiously, cutting Steve off and drawing both of their wild eyes towards your figure now standing up, just a minute away from a complete breakdown. You don't even process the fact that Steve cursed. It would've been teased about endlessly in any other situation.

"I will go. I'll leave if that's what you want," you seethe with a voice so unsteady that it's almost unbearable to listen to. "But I don’t hate any of you. I don’t, and I get why you’re mad. But fuck you, Bucky. Fuck you for saying that.”

More tears fall. It's futile to wipe them away when they'll be replaced the second after. You want to say more, hit Bucky where it hurts, but you cannot get the goddamn words to form on your lips. Opening your mouth and closing it again, shaking your head, comes before hastily walking towards your room and locking yourself inside without giving them a chance to answer.

As soon as the door is slammed shut, your hand comes up to your mouth to muffle the sobs. Sinking down to the floor as if you’re in a movie, forehead resting against your knees. The rate of your heartbeats could be considered dangerously high, but you just blurted out a whole love confession for two of your roommates in the midst of a fight. How the hell could everything turn to shit so quickly? Half an hour ago all of you were joking around in the bathroom, and now you're not sure you have the courage to face any of them again.

It's a rash, impulsive decision fueled by anger and betrayal and shame, but you rush over to your closet and pull out an overnight bag that's soon filled to the brim with enough things to last you a few days. You're crying the entire time.

When you pass the living room again, Bucky isn't there anymore. But Steve is. Barely a glance his way is spared, with hasty steps heading towards the hallway. You remind yourself of a furious toddler when you angrily put on your jacket, stick your feet into your winter boots. The bag is slung over your shoulder, hand resting on the door handle.

"Don't go. Y/n, please don't leave."

Steve stands at the other side of the hallway, a broken down expression on his pretty face.

"Bucky went out of line, but he didn't mean it, I swear. He's just too prideful to admit it," he continues. You shake your head, biting down on your bottom lip. "Please, honey. It’s Christmas Eve. It won’t be the same if you’re not here tomorrow.”

"I just need some space," you whisper, brushing away a stray tear with the sleeve of your jacket. You’re so embarrassed and hurt that you can barely look him in the eye. "I can't be in the same apartment as him right now."

Steve sighs, looking about ready to just throw you over his shoulder to get you to stay. But he won't do that. That's not Steve. So instead he glances down to the floor, shaking his head to himself.

“Did you mean it?” he asks softly. “The thing about—you said you loved us. Did you mean it?”

It takes a few seconds before you nod tentatively, sniffling and keeping your gaze on a spot past Steve. He doesn’t say anything.

Steve gathers courage enough to walk up to where you stand by the door, grabbing your cheeks with his hands, thumb running over the tear-stained skin gently. For a few moments, he just looks at you. Loud thoughts running amok in that perfect head of his.

“Nothing I say right now will do my feelings any justice, so I’m gonna save any big speeches for tomorrow. But just…stay. It’s 2 am, it’s freezing out and you’re still drunk. I don’t want you out there on the streets alone. I need you to stay, even if it’s only for your own safety. Don’t have to talk to any of us if you don’t want to.”

His words makes you nod automatically. All it took was his hands on your skin and the flicker of hope his words ignite in your chest, and you conceded within a second. No hesitation left in that exhausted body of yours. He‘s not saying outright that your feelings are requited, but it doesn’t feel like a rejection either. He doesn’t seem disgusted by your confession, by the knowledge that you’re in love with both him and his best friend.

“Good girl. Let’s just—let’s get you to bed, okay?”Steve tells you, squeezing your shoulder gently. With your confirmation in form of another silent nod, he nestles the bag out of your grip and takes off the jacket from your torso.

The bed feels so soft and warm and comforting when you lie down. Steve tucks you in. It’s achingly sweet and you don’t really deserve it after avoiding him and Bucky like that for so long, but he looks out for you nonetheless.

“Steve,” you whisper, drawing his gaze up to meet yours. “I’m sorry. For being so distant.”

He shakes his head. “You have nothing to be sorry for. You were scared,” Steve answers. “Don’t worry about anything, okay? Get some sleep. You’ve had a tough night, Y/n.”

The softest of smiles grazes your lips, puppy eyes gazing up at Steve. Your wonderful, caring, perfect Steve.

“Are you alright? It must’ve been hard meeting Joshua again. And what Bucky said, it…it was far from okay.”

“I will be,” you whisper.

He nods, observes your face for a few seconds. Leans down to press a kiss to your forehead—what kind of college guy even does that? And then he leaves the room, turning the light off behind him.

You’re woken up by a red headed, crazy woman sitting on top of you over the sheets, shaking your shoulders.

“Wake up, fuckhead. You’re gonna open the presents I got you,” Natasha urges, grinning down at you as you blink your eyes open, groaning.

“Fuckhead?” you ask, a tired chuckle from your lips as Natasha climbs off the bed.

“Yes. Don’t like it, huh?” she teases. “C’mon. The guys are already waiting.”

With slow steps and a loud yawn, the slightest trace of a hangover plaguing your body, you drag yourself out into the living room. Around the ugly, little tree that Sam insisted on cutting down from the campus gardens last week (he almost got arrested by the security guards) the three boys sit. Your gaze falls to the floor, scratching the skin right above your lip nervously, once Bucky looks up at you. Can’t really read his expression, but you figure you’ll lay the fight aside for the day. It’s Christmas, after all.

“Merry Christmas, sweetheart,” Steve says, urging you to sit down next to him right there on the carpet. You offer a soft smile, and an even softer ‘Merry Christmas’ back. You’re still unsure about yesterday. Despite there being no rejection from either of them, the uncertainty is kind of killing you. A pit of anxiety rests in your stomach, an uneasy feeling corrupting every cell as you sit down on the floor next to Steve.

Not even ten minutes later, the living room is drowning in a sea of wrapping paper. Natasha went overboard with the gift shopping this year, it seems like, but her absent father is also some kind of Russian oligarch or something so she tends to use up as much of his money as she can. You’re not complaining.

The special edition of The Hobbit, signed by the director of the movie, that you managed to get on eBay and cost you a fucking fortune is received with a whispered ‘thank you’ from Bucky. He holds it in his hands tightly, staring down at the book without a word, and you don’t know if he’s happy for it. Maybe he’s not happy with anything touched by you at this moment. He hasn’t gotten you a gift, it seems like, or maybe he threw it in the trash and burned it yesterday.

Steve got you three books that he’d heard you say you wanted months ago, and a dainty silver necklace with a bee pendant hanging from it. “You know, uh, I usually call you ‘honey’ and I thought it was a little funny, maybe. But I can exchange it if you don’t like it. It’s no problem,” he had said, even though there were tears of gratitude in your eyes. Your arms were thrown around him a second later, hugging him tightly as you thanked him profusely for the most thoughtful gift.

Now you’re leaning your back against the couch, still on the floor, watching as Sam and Natasha are tinkering with his new Nintendo Switch that he got from her (overboard with the gifts, as previously mentioned). He’s so happy it almost makes you zoned out as you watch his childlike excitement. It’s nice to see the two of them so calm and sweet with each other too. Usually bickering and getting on each other’s nerves all the time otherwise.

“Y/n, can we talk?”

Your head tilts back, looking up at Bucky standing nervously in front of you, his hand rubbing the back of his neck. There’s a deep hesitation within you, a pride that wants to say no and remain in your angry state forever without confrontation. But it’s Bucky. You hate this animosity between the two of you, the tension. Despite being pissed off and hurt and afraid that he doesn’t want you, you can’t say no, so you nod and push yourself up to a stand.

Bucky closes the door to his room behind him gently, clearing his throat and looking at anything but you. A sigh comes out of his mouth, shaking his head, before he parts his lips to speak.

“I’m so sorry, Y/n. What I said was disgusting and unforgivable and so fucking out of line. You didn’t deserve that at all. So out of proportion to what I was mad at you for,” Bucky says, running the palm of his calloused hand over his face.

“It was,” you answer honestly. There’s no use in denying that what Bucky said was stupidly hurtful. He nods, looking away from your gaze.

“It made me angry thinking that you ignored me, because at first I didn’t know what I had done, you know? And then I thought for a few months that me and Steve had been too overbearing and that you tried to keep your distance because you thought we were annoying or something. But that’s not the case. I should’ve known better by now than to think that you would do anything to purposely hurt us.”

You gulp, nodding, looking down to the floor. “I’m sorry too,” you whisper. “I didn’t know that you guys thought I had something against you until last night. Obviously, you…you know now that’s not the case,” you tell him, embracing yourself with your arms. “But last night, Bucky, I…you hurt me. I know you were angry, but saying those kind of things isn’t okay.”

“I know that. God, I know, Y/n. I’m so sorry. It was fucking childish of me, retorting to saying that Jo—“ Bucky shakes his head, hands coming up to tug at the roots of his hair. “And it felt stupid giving you that present in front of everyone, so now you think I didn’t get you anything, too, and—“

“You got me a present?”

“Yes. Of course I did, Y/n. But I saw how much Natasha had bought and that necklace Steve gave you and my gift felt stupid in comparison to that. Just didn’t want to give it to you in front of everyone,” he says, a little awkwardly. A little boy giving his mother a drawing he made in kindergarten, he reminds you of.

“Bucky…that doesn’t matter. I don’t care what you have gotten me. I’ll like it no matter what if it’s from you.”

He shifts in his place, contemplating something, before picking up a sweater on his bed, revealing a wrapped present hidden underneath. Bucky took the gift from the pile without anyone noticing before, throwing it into his room so no one would see.

With a tentative hand, he reaches it out to you. Doesn’t watch as you unwrap it, instead biting on his thumbnail. You reprimand him for it, and the hand returns to his side.

“Is it a book?” You run your fingers over the cover, a hardcover with nothing on it. Blank.

“It’s a photo album. Shit, it’s stupid. I don’t know,” Bucky answers, looking about ready to snatch it back, but you open the first page up before he has a chance to.

A picture of you, Natasha, Sam and Steve on the first page. It was taken last year in November. You’re all running after one of Sam’s model planes, fall leaves singling down from the sky. It’s a beautiful picture.

“4 grown idiots running after a kid’s toy - November 12th, 2022”

“It’s just pics I’ve taken with my phone, so it’s nothing artsy or anything, but…uhm.” Bucky runs his hand through his short, brown hair.

You flip the page. You’re looking out through the kitchen window, the sun shining through and casting shadows over the room and your figure curled up on the chair.

“Angel in the sun - March 25th, 2023”

A soft chuckle is drawn from your lips, resisting the urge to run your finger over the photo, but you don’t want to smudge the blank paper. On the same page there’s another picture of you with your arms around Natasha’s shoulders, nearly wrestling her to the ground with the force of your hug. You look so happy.

Bucky looks nervous as you glance up from the photo album at him. “Know it’s not much, but…yeah.”

A loud huff of hair escapes Bucky as you throw your arms around him. It takes a second or two for him to hug you back, but he soon has his chin resting on top of your head, arms around your waist.

“I love it,” you whisper, holding onto him tightly enough to constrict his breathing.

“You do? I can take it back if you don’t like it.”

Your grip around him releases, arms coming down to your sides so you can take a step back and look him in the eyes. “This is everything, Bucky,” you say softly, feeling a lump in your throat that can turn into tears any second. “The fact that you took the time to make this for me is just…it’s the most thoughtful thing ever. And these pictures are so beautiful, Bucky, and just the thought of you sitting down and glueing them onto the page and writing captions and—“

His lips against yours. Oh god. Oh my god, Bucky has his lips pressed against yours. Gentle hands hold your jaw, his head leaning down to compensate for the height difference, and Bucky Barnes is kissing you with urgency and desperation.

The shock is enough to make you unable to return the kiss. He seems to take your surprise as rejection despite the fact that you literally yelled ‘I love you’ in his face last night. Bucky steps away and takes his hands off your skin, running his hand over his mouth, shaking his head.

“I’m so sorry, don’t know what the hell came over me, I—“

On your tiptoes, fingers grabbing his sweatshirt to pull him closer, and you nearly smash your lips against his to shut up any of that doubt he carries. It’s not a graceful or very romantic kiss, but by the sound akin to a very mild growl that comes from Bucky and his hands sliding down to your waist to pull you closer, you guess he likes it anyway.

It doesn’t last more than 20 seconds. A harsh knock on the door to Bucky’s room interrupts it, forcing you part from his lips and get down from your tiptoes again.

“What the hell are you doing in there? C’mon! I’ve made goddamn Christmas brunch!” Sam yells, drawing a soft chuckle from your lips as your forehead meets Bucky’s chest.

With a soft smile, nothing said, you back away from Bucky. Slipping out of his room and leaving him there all flustered and semi-hard from a 20 second make-out session. The first ever between you, though. He thinks it’s pretty understandable.

As Bucky follows you into the kitchen, sitting down at the table by Steve, he leans towards his best friend and whispers into his ear low enough to make anyone else unable to hear.

“I kissed her, Stevie,” Bucky says with a shit eating grin on his face. “I finally fucking kissed her.”

The blond man turns his head enough to look over at Bucky, the red flush of his cheeks and ears enough to tell anyone what’s been said.

“Are you serious?” Steve asks.

“I kissed her and she kissed me back, I swear. I gave her that photo album I’ve worked on for weeks. She said she loved it, Steve.”

“I guess it’s my turn then, isn’t it?” Steve answers, a shy smile on his lips as the two of them watch you sit down opposite of them at the table, glancing through the window out at the heavy snowfall. Natasha puts a newly toasted bagel on your plate.

“Go get our girl, Stevie.”

[fauxpontchartrain]

i just spent an hour and a half catchingup on what youve been up to lol..to recap you: got away from ef and heil finally, were in rehab/halfway house/assisted living of some kind for a while, got some jobs that pay you well enough to ball out a bit, beefed with lolcow.farm, became catholic, got a boyfriend who then had to go into custody, started living with people from the internet, were sober but are now tweaking (?), also tricking the whole time. DID I MISS ANYTHING LOL 😭😭😭

Yeah, but I still occasionally put up with Heil and Ef for Reasons;

I only went to rehab after I went to jail for two weeks after trying to kill my mom, and a little bit afterwards I decided to run away from her and the rest of the circus freaks, so I landed myself in a boarding home for seven months;

Yes, ever since I interned for the UN back when I was 21, I’ve kept doing it and taking on more projects by them until they actually recognized my talent and achievements and decided to give me a “real” job;

I was mostly just rubbing it in the lolcowers faces that they all accused me of lying about everything and harassing me just for being mentally ill when it turned out that I wasn’t lying about anything, I was just a schizo drug addict, and people think that those two things automatically make you a liar, when most wouldn’t even have the mental capacity or willingness to actually admit that they do have serious mental illness such as schizophrenia and drug addiction in the first place lmao;

Yes, I decided to become Catholic again because why not? I was baptized Catholic and figured it wouldn’t hurt to rediscover my faith after sobriety;

We THOUGHT Jamari would have to go into custody to take care of his last warrants for a bunch of old shit, but he didn’t. Also I broke up with him like last month or so;

Yeah, I’m living with Mr Skeleton and Miss Mila now (does “haiiii Mr Skelly, serve that cunt buddy!!! ring a bell lmao, he’s the guy that I would reblog selfies and modeling pics of just to harass him in his own tags for no reason until I actually became attached to the guy over the years) and we now live in a very nice house;

I’m mostly sober (california sober) and occasionally dabble in adderall and stuff again but only to study and actually do my work. This one guy who’s been following me around just to harass me for years called me and my friends “tweakers” so we’ve been going with it lmao;

And finally, I stopped selling ass once I got away from Heil & Co., but given current circumstances, I decided to make it a side-job and started doing porn, and while it sucks ass and causes a mental breakdown every week, I decided to take advantage of the people who constantly hate-stalk me after becoming known as “Nazi Fucking Black Girl” and started charging people to actually SEE me do this crazy ass shit, and as soon as I launched my Onlyfans, I managed to bring in about $2k worth of additional income within 3 hours of launching my shit precisely for the reasons that I thought I would lmao.

I think the only thing you’re really missing is when my ex finally came back home, but he turned out to be a Freak on Another Level, and Mr Skeleton and Miss Mila were the ones who got me out of that shit too, so now I’m a relatively functional woman without those people in my life holding me back anymore, but my tweaker friends proved to me that I can also be absolutely weird and batshit insane but still smart and accomplished as fuck, so lmao

[hopeforchanges]

if you've never read the Silmarilion, you are depriving yourself of a major old school reality tv vibes in the vain of Big Brother. Tolkien really was the G, because if you think that the Greek gods have something on Tolkien's Valar, i'm here to tell you they're not even playing in the same league. not even in the same universe.

oh? you think Zeus is detached? Poseidon is kind of a dick and Hades just could not give less of a fuck about his dysfunctional family?

what if i told you that once upon a time there was a guy who was a big asshole and who rallied his entire race to go to war cause one other guy who was also even somehow bigger of an asshole (let's call him huge asshole) stole his shiny rocks? and the Valar did a total of fuck all to stop him from leading an entire race of people they essentially helped create and lived with in harmony to slaughter.

remember that huge asshole who stole the big's asshole shiny rocks? well he also happened to terrorize an entire continent with countless lives for centuries, meanwhile the Valar largely stay out of the conflict even though the huge asshole was technically their family and therefore their problem. Despite the pleas of the people, they remained indifferent, chillin' in the west five feet apart cause they're not gay, watching an absolute carnage unfold for several long centuries. It took several more hundreds of years and devastating battles before one guy with a backbone finally said 'had enough of this shit' and sailed to their West California/Malibu hangout to tell 'em they should get their fucking asses up and work.

so the Valar eventually are like 'jesus, okay' and stop the huge asshole but if you think that they were going to send sanitation or stimulus checks to the people who were left behind and broken by the war they did not care about to stop earlier even though they were the only ones who could, you have another thing coming cause they peace out and everyone else who cannot afford to go to their West California/Malibu hangout because they are not privileged enough or don't have the right background to go there and heal can fuck off and die.

then you might think, well, the huge asshole was defeated so now at least there should be peace and quiet for a while in the house, no? fucking no because it turned out the huge asshole polled really well in the demographic of young men and one of those young men decided to take up the huge asshole's mantle and make middle-earth great again or some shit. except his own crowd runs him out of town cause he is one of those people who think they can swing but they're actually just meow meows with anger issues and a staggering lack of self-awareness who really need to get laid. (on that later)

so the young man decides to go on vacation to an island that was basically created by the Valar as the paradise for those who helped defeat the huge asshole and he realizes he really likes this island full of assholes cause that's kind of the crowd he vibes with. and slowly but surely he comes to the conclusion that not only is the island full of assholes, it's full of the dumbest motherfuckers he has ever met in his life. he gets them to build worships and temples and statues to celebrate the huge asshole guy who died on the basis of their general huge asshole-ness they have in common with him. still, the Valar do nothing as the young man corrupts this island full of dumbasses and enslaves them to his will. they only intervene when the young man rallies them to band together and attack the West California/Malibu hangout. Which ends in complete destruction of the paradise island and a complete shift of the map of the world and the trajectory of its free peoples.

and this whole tangent is basically me reminding myself that yes, Hope, you can write an outlandish new chapter where absolute crazy batshit things happen to people who do not deserve it and have the Valar ignore it completely, because that is what they do.

they are trolling. they don't intervene when entire populations are destroyed, but when they randomly see the young man and an elf vibing on a shitty raft, Poseidon's Valar equivalent Ulmo gathers the clouds and tells his little helper Ossë who is responsible for storms and waves:

.... you know what would be really fucking hilarious ....

[a-aexotic]

CONGRATS WITH 800 FOLLOWERS! YOU DESERVE IT SO MUCH!!! ❤️❤️

🌙 with Rafe and Blank Space (i havent heard that song in a while so😖) Maybe like reader is as “crazy” as Rafe or something like that? Love you❤️

ofc babe, thank u sm!!!!!!!!! love u more

cw's: very toxic relationship but like funny... not conveyed in a very serious way, illusions to smut but no actual smut, crazy reader who's a little too much like me, uhhh lmk if i missed anything!

Opposites attract, people always love to say it. But have they actually ever seen it actually work out? People who preach "opposites attract" have never met you and Rafe.

You are equally as psychotic as Rafe, always chaos in your life. You live in constant chaos and you're fine with it. It adds plot to your story, you love to say.

When you met Rafe, there was an instant connection. When you met him, you knew that he was your next obsession. He was exactly your type - blonde, tall but most importantly, batshit crazy.

One day at a party, Rafe had approached you and you knew this was your time to shine. You'd been stalking his instagram for what seemed weeks and you knew he loved golf. So, you taught yourself everything there was about golf. He was very impressed, golf wasn't a very common interest for girls.

He suggested you guys could play sometime and that's how you got his number. And that's how it all began.

The first 3 months of you and Rafe was absolute summer heaven; yacht parties every week, delicious brunch at the country club, mind-blowing sex on the beach in Cabo.

But the 3 month rule is real, even for you and Rafe. The first argument you guys ever got in was of course about an ex; it always is.

"What the fuck Rafe, hearts? On her post? Are you serious?" You were standing next to his bed, your phone in hand as you showed him his ex's post, with his comment.

He was laying on his bed, annoyance evident on his face. "It was her birthday and they weren't even red hearts-"

"The color of the fucking hearts doesn't matter, Rafe! They're still hearts." You snapped making him get off the bed to stand in front of you, exhaling dramatically.

"Y/N, this is childish and stupid, why are you even mad-"

You were so mad you couldn't even contain a shout. "Why aren't you more understanding? What if I did that to my ex?"

"I wouldn't fucking know because I don't follow them." Rafe stated as you let out an angry scoff.

That fight ended with less understanding of you anger and more of Rafe making it up to you in a less wholesome way.

And thus began the next cycle - fight and scream, block and ignore, kiss and make up. Every time you would get angry, Rafe would be angrier even if the situation doesn't call for it. Sometimes, when you guys would make up, you couldn't even remember why you fought in the first place - you just did it for pure entertainment.

Rafe eventually caught on to your little ruse and decided maybe it was his turn. Now, every time he felt even a little intimidated by a guy you were talking to, he made it into a huge thing as well."

"He was grinding on you!"

You rolled your eyes, unfazed by Rafe's sudden anger. You were seated outside of the Cameron's house at the pool. "Hardly! Rafe, he just put his hand on-"

"I don't care." Rafe was suddenly up close to your face, his expression angry and annoyed. "No one is allowed to touch you but me, Y/N."

You smiled at that. "Yes, Rafe. Of course."

Petty arguments and faux anger wasn't the only thing going for you and Rafe. Sometimes, your fights were genuine but were taken too far. Like the time you banged up Rafe's car because he had started talking to his ex again during your "break."

You knew where Rafe kept his golf clubs and you decided to borrow just for this. His dad had bought him his dream car just a few months ago and you were about to wreck it.

You went up to the car and started banging it on the hood of the car. The door of the house opened and some shouting, you recognized it as Rafe.

"What the fuck-" He ran up to you. "Are you doing to my car?"

You stopped the banging and throw the golf club lightly at Rafe. "You fucking cheater!"

Rafe looked at you with confusion as he caught the golf club. "What-"

"Oh, you look sooo pretty in that tight sundress!" You mocked him and suddenly his face turned bright red. "Orange is such a pretty color on you!"

"Shit, Y/N! Don't act like you haven't texted any one of your exes just to get a raise out of me." He defended, scoffing.

"Never the one I knew you actually hated though, Rafe. You're a fucking asshole!" You then turned away from him and you felt like you were going to explode.

He sighed, walking towards you to put a hand on your shoulder. "I'm sorry, you're right. I was just angry when I saw you touching that guy and I got caught up."

You shrugged.

He moved his hand to your jaw, making you look back up at him. "Can you forgive me?"

As you looked into those pretty eyes, you saw the sweet boy you had met just a few months ago. Your heart melted and you turned to face him. "Yeah.. Sorry about the car."

He pulled you in for a hug and you inhaled his expensive cologne and you felt like you were home again. You forgot everything in his touch; every bad thing he's ever done.

"Yeah, no it's fine Ward can repair it if we tell him one of Sarah's friends did it."

You held in your laugh at Rafe's solution, squeezing him tighter. "I love you, Rafe."

"Yeah, I love you too."

[simplepotatofarmer]

Blog Update:

Hi, it's me, Loyal.

I just want to say first and foremost, I really do love (parts of) the fandom and I'm not going anywhere.

I will, however, not be around as much. One, I'm about to enter an all day intensive treatment plan so I'll literally just be on in the evening. Two, as much as I'm going to keep writing and creating, I have no intention of interacting publicly with fandom as much as I have.

I can't. It's actually fucking insane that it's gotten to this point. I made tribute post and because I used lyrics from Dream's song, I got harassed. The people doing this, acting like this, thinking this way are insane.

So in case it's not clear: Based on my personal lived experience and some information that's come to light, I still enjoy Dream's content. You can approach me personally, off anon, if you want to know my reasoning. If you dislike me for this, that's fine. But I'm done trying to walk this fine line just so I don't get people threatening me, my kids, and my pets. Just so people stop sending me the city I live in, so they stop digging up twelve year old tweets, so they stop calling me slurs and suicide baiting me.

That's absolutely insane. It's horrible. It's disgusting and I was honestly just sitting here, taking it, because I'm terrified of upsetting people and losing friends if I say 'yeah, I'm excited for a new manhunt and I also this song helped me and my kids process my grief'. And the worst part is, it's not an unfounded fear. People have done the most vile shit to me. People I thought were friends jumped on me instead of those harassing me.

I just want to post about Techno and c!Rivals duo and not worry about whether or not this post is going to get me hate. I don't want to worry about how random discord servers are talking about me.

Because that's fucking batshit. Not the worrying, but what these people are doing and I'm tired of letting this effect me. I have enough going on in my personal life. My partner of 15 years almost died. We almost lost our house. I should be able to come online and post about the silly minecraft guys I like and their RP and lore without censoring myself out of fear of literally being doxxed and cyber stalked. I should be able to talk about the racism that effects me without being afraid people will make it about cc drama or calling me slurs or erasing my identity as an Ojibwe person.

The people doing this are the problem. It hurts that so many people are part of this, it really does. But I can't keep letting it get to me. I've always done my best to be kind. I haven't been perfect, especially not lately, because all this hate and stress has gotten to me. I've lashed out. I shouldn't have.

And I shouldn't have had to deal with all that shit in the first place. I hope no one else does. It's terrifying and draining and I'm done.

So I intend to post the things I enjoy, I intend to reblog my friends' art, write the Emerald duo and Rivals duo fics I want to. I want to post about the Syndicate and the new manhunt when it comes out. That's what I'm going to do.

Asks are staying off for the moment because people are too happy to make burner blogs but I'll probably turn them back on at some point as I love answering lore and headcanon questions and, again, it's fucked up I can't enjoy an aspect of the site and fandom because people can't just leave me alone.

To those people: Get help. You're harassing someone because you think they deserve it and that's the most fucked up thing.

To everyone else: So so many of you have been amazing. You've been supportive, you've been kind. That kindness and support speaks volumes and I love you all. I genuinely love you. Dreblr, you've been here for me for over a year at this point and I cannot thank you enough. You are the best part of fandom as far as I'm concerned. And to Dtblr, y'all have come to support me countless times and that means the world to me, it really does. As for all my fellow Rivals duo fans, you people are worth your weight in gold for the joy you bring. A special shout-out to @vpofcookies because you've been here since the beginning, practically, and I love you. There's more but you know who you are.

Anyway, I've been carrying this for awhile and I'm tired. I'm no longer going to give any amount of thought to the people determined to drag me down and harass me constantly.

My best advice is stop focusing on the things and people you hate and instead focus on what you love. That's what I plan to do, from here on out.

[bitch-spectrum]

PART 3/3

Part 1 ,, Part 2

Mooch

Personality Headcanons: She is NOT "Teehee :3" she's the kind of girl to show up to your house and commit arson. She's feral, she's dangerous, she's killed 4 people. She was probably arrested for murder and was doing community service to get out early when she got recruited for TF4. You could say she's a little..... nuts :D Physical Headcanons: I don't really have any. ~5" Gender: Puts female on legal documents but always says something different when asked for her gender. Things like "Wouldn't you like to know, weather boy?" or "Ur mom." or "Whatever keeps you busy while I rob you." Pronouns: Any she doesn't care. Orientation: I don't have one. Post Game: She probably wasn't impacted much if at all. Opinions: She's a really funny side character. I adore cute characters who are batshit insane. 3.5/5.

Moray Personality Headcanons: They're a Mettaton stan. They act like a kowkey k-pop stan. They make aesthetic Mettaton gifs, reads/writes x reader fanfic, etc. Because they don't like conflict they don't get into internet beef though. At first they really only joined Starlo's posse for the aesthetic but it turns out they actually really enjoy sword fighting so they stuck around. Because they don't really like fighting or conflict so they usually do all the office work and they don't mind. Physical Headcanons: None really. ~ 5'07" Gender: Nonbinary (Is this canon?) Pronouns: They/Them Orientation: I don't have one. Post Game: They where pretty sad finding out about Clover's passing. It impacted them just not as hard as some of the others. They where able to get back up pretty quickly. Opinions: Gender. But sort of bland in personality. 2.5/5.

Starlo (Okay he's my fave in this specific iteration so just bear with me)

Personality Headcanons: He tends to have a bad habit of avoiding his problems. He tries to keep himself busy so he's not alone with his thoughts for too long. If he has absolutely nothing to do, he sits outside with an acoustic to keep his hands busy. Spanish was his first language and he often mispronounces English words. His mother handmade most of his gabàns. When he was really young and still lived on the surface he loved looking up at the stars. When he was in middle school he had a phase where he hated humans but grew out of it. He was comphet with Ceroba in high school but she clocked him and broke up with him. They stayed friends for a really long time anyway. He's ambidextrous. He's Ceroba's age so ~40-43. A lot of people interpret his sprite as having shade over his eyes but I like to think of it like a bandit mask.... that's prescription. His safety goggles are also prescription. He's really near sighted. He's also a pretty solid horse rider. You can't tell me this man DOESN'T smoke weed idc. He listens to southern rock, country, latino rock, and classic rock.

Physical Headcanons: The parts of his face that stick out emote with him. They turn up when he's happy/excited. They go down when he's sad. They kinda >:|< when he's mad. From growing up doing farm work and then deciding to become a sheriff too he's in really good physical condition and could probably lift most people over his head. His eyes are completely white. He's covered in a thin lair of fur that he grows out in certain places (chest, arms, beard, etc.). Ed is really jealous of his beard. The longer his fur is the darker it gets. Yellow to green-blue to dark blue (looks black). Fangs because I said so. Gender: Cis man Pronouns: He/Him Orientation: Gay and somewhere on the asexual spectrum.

Post Game: He was absolutely devastated the days following Clover's death. He barely got out of bed. Ed had to be the one to get him to even eat anything. He was really out of it, sort of dazed, for several weeks while he just tried to get back to work. He was a little torn between continuing trying to be the town's sheriff or going back to being a farmer. So, until then he just helped his parents out with whatever they needed. As he did, he reconnected with his childhood. He looked back at the boy he used to be, but unable to forget about Clover, he never forgot about the man he wanted to become. Clover had been so excited to meet a real-life cowboy that it almost felt disrespectful to throw out that pipedream now. So, he tried to find a middle ground between the two. Some days he'd be up at the first crack of dawn working in the field and other times he'd be the figurehead of his town, keeping the peace and keeping spirits high. Eventually he managed to pull himself out of a continuous low mood. Because of that, he managed to clear his mind enough to move on through the stages of grief. He and Ceroba got into a fight over what had happened. He felt like he owed it to Clover to at least try. Finally ending on the note that his freedom wasn't worth the life of someone he viewed as his own flesh and blood child - unlike what Ceroba did to her child which really WAS her blood. Their long-time friendship came to a bitter end, and he found himself turning to alcohol as a coping mechanism for a few months before a heartfelt talk with Ace pulled him back to his senses.

At one point when he was working in the field his mother called him inside and said she had finally finished the gabàn she had been making for Clover - he had requested it several months or so at this point but forgot to tell her what had happened. Re-opening old wounds he told her what had happened. He kept the gabàn and keeps it on his guitar case. Like Martlet, it was probably another decade or so before he really felt like his life was starting to move on. He had only known Clover for maybe a couple weeks at most but losing them felt like losing his own kid. He didn't know how long Clover was planning to stick around but had full intentions to legally adopt them. He successfully managed to move on, but he never forgot them.

Opinions: Like I said before he's my favorite character in this specific game. He's that right mix of serious and silly that really scratches an itch in my soul. His design is peak, it just speaks to me. I literally remember yelling at my TV when his design got revealed because I loved it instantly. HOWEVER, I do think that maybe his character could have been written a little better. It's pretty clear he's a complex character but the way he was written I feel like didn't fully convey that. 4/5.

THAT'S ALL! HAVE A GOOD DAY!!

[theshippirate22]

okay so i had a four hour drive home from university for fall break this week and to entertain myself in the car for that long, i put on The Phantom of the Opera soundtrack because I was really obsessed with it when I was a kid and I know all the words and then I started thinking about Neil and this just sort of happened

So a bunch of Neil's actor friends start talking about trying out for a production of Phantom, and at first he's kind of like well damn guess I have to miss out on this one because he doesn't have a lot of training with singing, but they convince him to audition anyway, even if it's just for an ensemble part because it's something he can add to his portfolio and he's down with that (some of his friends even mention that he'll probably get Raoul because it's less singing and Neil fits the charming heartthrob type)

So imagine his surprise when a week after the audition he told Todd went "okay-ish" that he's been cast as Eric. And like he goes to the show directors and he's like. hi i think there's been a mistake. and they're all just like no we want you! we know it's weird but the vibes are right. like just trust us

And he goes with it, because why not right? And very quickly he's like oh hey this character is extremely easy for me to play even though he's genuinely deranged and he panics that maybe he's been a repressed serial killer this whole time.

But then on opening night when Charlie comes to see it (with Todd, of course, because they're the only two that are allowed to come on opening night in case something goes terribly wrong) and he's like INSANELY GOOD and everyone goes absolutely batshit insane for him.

And then afterwards Charlie's like damn bro you were meant to be Phantom and Neil is like ???! You think I'm a serial killer too???!!

Charlie just kind of stares at him. "No, like, the whole story as a concept is the over-dramatized fantasy of an oppressed and abused person taking control of not only their own life, but the lives of those around them which like. the call is coming from inside the house."

Which makes Neil feel better because maybe he's not actually a psychopath and is just working through some things from his childhood

So then he really leans into it and just has fun with it and really makes Eric as poetically unhinged as he can and everyone just eats it up, which ultimately skyrockets his career in musicals

Like I just have this vivid picture of him in the All I Ask of You Reprise on his knees in desperation, actively bringing himself to tears before leaping to his feet and cackling this skin-tingling, sweat-inducing laugh and like perfectly portraying the split duality of Eric's pathetic self-loathing and his tragic misdirection of insanity to violence (which may or may not awaken some things in Todd)

And because The Point of No Return is like one of my precious darlings like I just can't stop picturing it with Neil and his like intense solemnity with that conniving smile idek I'm losing it fr

[firthbetterorfirthworse]

Unleashing Mr. Darcy (2016)

I watched this Hallmark movie so you don't have to

And I'm going to tell you allllllllllllll about it so you can suffer along with me and are never tempted to watch.

TL;DR: woman meets man, hates him for no reason, holds on to that hate for ages, then they kiss the end

Cute Whitebread Woman (AKA Liz) is a high school teacher. We know she has Morals because the Asshole Parents of a star lacrosse player try to bribe her to change his grade so he can continue on the team and she says no. This gets her suspended.

She has a dog. She is spending her birthday showing her beloved dog at a dog show. I think this is supposed to set up how she is Sad and In Need Of Love, but it honestly sounds boss and she seems quite happy.

The new judge, Generic Handsome White DudeTM (AKA Donovan Darcy) expressed mild annoyance that she wasn't paying attention and was late to her showing (valid) and when he said "Fine eyes...shame about the freckles though" she thought for 5 seconds he was saying it about her instead of, you know, her dog that he's being paid to judge. This is enough to cement her eternal dislike, even though she admits to her sister Jenna that a lot of it was just about him sounding like Asshole Parent.

Her suspension turns into a firing because one of the Asshole Parents sits on the board, so she takes her mom's friend up on the offer to come stay with her in New York and be the handler for her dogs at shows for a few months. Surprise, Darcy lives across the street. She is very antagonistic toward him, even though Darcy asks if she's always so hostile.

"We have a mutual dislike!" she insists, while everyone denies there is any possibility of Darcy disliking her.

He invites them over to meet his new puppies. Darcy is not there, but they meet bitchy Aunt Darcy and someone named Felicity, who Aunt Darcy insinuates is about to marry Darcy. Liz believes this even though her mom's friend (I'm not confident I ever caught her name) snorts with laughter.

She also met his teenage sister Zara, who cozies up to Liz and admits that Darcy wanted to see her but Aunt Darcy made up an emergency to get her out of the house. (why??? Aunt Darcy had never heard of her. Does she just isolate him from everyone who isn't Felicity?)

Btw, Asshole Parent is suing Liz, saying that she was the one who solicited the bribe. Darcy is concerned when he runs into her and she's crying. She insists she isn't, is very rude, and runs away.

Seriously. Mom's friend, who is friends with Darcy: He doesn't like this other girl, he likes you Darcy's sister: He hates this other girl, he likes you Liz's sister Jenna: I'm dating his best friend, who says he doesn't like this other girl and he likes you Liz: Idk he's probably with this other girl but I don't care because he definitely hates me

Mom's friend maneuvers Liz into being at the groomers at the same time as Darcy. They have a whole Moment, after a dog that doesn't even come up to their knees somehow shakes off enough water to splash their hair and faces, so he tenderly dries her off.

Surprise! Darcy is Very Rich and Important, so the tabloids caught pictures of this moment! Since Felicity has told the tabloids they are together, he's being labeled as a cheater.

Bitch Aunt is super pissed. She insists he needs a proper wife for his head of the charity foundation Lifestyle. Liz is upset and agrees to stay away from him, even though her mom's friend points out how absolutely batshit insane of a viewpoint this is in the modern world.

Did I mention that Bitch Aunt also shows dogs? When her dogs lose to Liz, she claims there is a conflict of interest with Darcy dating one of the handlers and even though Darcy is like "fine I won't judge then" Liz quits her job.

Darcy is like hey don't go home yet. I've protested the decision. If you feel like you're freeloading in the meantime, then you can work for me - puppysit while we go out of town for a week.

"You keep surprising me," says Liz, astonished that Regular Human Man is just a Regular Human Man and not the UltraDick she assumed him to be on no basis whatsoever.

Her sister Jenna begs her to come to some charity gala with her, so she does and surprise! It's Darcy's estate/party! She walks in to see him coming out of the pool (again they got Darcy wet I'm so right about this) She tries to leave but he tells her he wants her to stay.

When the gala starts, he tells her she takes his breath away and asks her to dance. I think this is where she might be realizing that he doesn't hate her (fucking finally)

Asshole Parent is at the gala too, and is like "be sure to watch your wallet with her Darcy, she once tried to pick mine." Darcy is like "do you know him?" and she runs away. Asshole Parent tries to confront her but Darcy takes her side and throws him out. "I've ruined your party" she says, for a few minutes of awkwardness that only a few people noticed. "Your aunt and felicity invited him here because they want me gone." "Well let's shut 'em up," he says, "let's shut 'em all up" and then he KISSES her. IN A CROWDED ROOM. I might care more if there was any chemistry between them.

Everybody gasps and claps. He kicks out Bitch Aunt and Felicity for good measure, for inviting the asshole in, but Liz still leaves the party and goes upstairs to her room. Her sister Jenna overhears her love interest trying to get Darcy to confess to his feelings, but he is not having it, so Jenna gets incredibly upset and convinces Liz to leave (?)

Darcy stops her outside the taxi, has a heartfelt confession of feelings. Says he loves her. Liz tells him to leave her alone.

He writes a heartfelt letter, which she insists is just a rich boy throwing a tantrum for something he couldn't have (honey you've been throwing a tantrum for the entire movie, get over yourself)

Guess what? Her old job calls! They've gotten new info about Asshole Parents, which allows them to hire her back with a 20% raise and kick them off the board. Darcy is the one who saved her job. (she does not take the job, because Morals)

Liz's mom tells her that she looked into Darcy and found out he gives away more money than anyone else in the state of New York. Liz finally starts to believe he is a good guy, even though none of this is new information and in fact was told to everyone about twenty minutes into the movie. In fact it's not until Jenna's love interest shows up and sweeps her off her feet and admits that Darcy was the one who urged him to follow his heart that Liz is like "Darcy? has a heart? omg I love him"

She leaves him some voicemails but he doesn't respond, because he dropped off the grid when she broke his heart. She even moves to New York and job search there in case he calls her back.

He doesn't.

But she runs into him at a dog show! He tells her he listened to the voicemails and her confession of love and they talk about their feelings for like 3 or 4 minutes, standing there holding hands IN FRONT OF A CROWD WHO IS WAITING FOR HIM TO JUDGE THIS DOG THAT'S JUST SITTING THERE.

They kiss. Everyone claps. They break off, embarrassed, realizing they're standing in front of a crowd, aaaaaaaaand then they go back to kissing.

End.

[ladysomething]

rushed back home. pretty sure I broke like 7 different basic driving rules from the driver manual in my country that even kids are aware of. also my best friend says he's never letting me drive ever again. he also says you're kinda a mastermind. I may not have a driver license for tomorrow, or a car to drive, but I do have new hatred and also a new level of crush (ness? English-is-not-my-first-language moment) for Max Verstappen. and my brother as well. he also pleged alliance and eternal honor to you, Madds.

5+1!!!!

1. honestly Charles, I get you. cramps are how some criminals should be punished. make them suffer for their wrongs. make them regret ever living. make them feel pain for comitting their crime. (says the lawyer. at this rate, for tomorrow I will loose not one but TWO licenses. who cares)

2. as stated beforehand, the Max crush that you've been cooking in me with this fic is absolutely massive. gigantic. astronomical. and let me tell you something. Max taking care of Charles during his pre-heat melted me. my ex boyfriends should learn from him, because that's the bare minimum and yet they didn't do shit. and Charles here has this lovely dumb idiot (affectionate) while he hates him. honestly goals. where do I buy one.

3. I kinda understand why Max distanced himself from Charles. sorta. actually barely. but the guilt trip that my man has to be going through has to be though. what reminds me

4. FUCK MATTHEW AND FUCK LANDO AND FUCK THE DOCTOR WHOSE NAME IS NOT WORTH OF ME TO REMEMBER. oh and FUCK FERRARI AND FUCK MCLAREN AND FUCK EVERYONE. GO TO HELL PIECES OF SHIT. yeah, that's it I think. my poor baby Charlie (IBEIDNDOSNDLSBDOWHEODIAJS I went batshit with that. just so you know. worried Max might be my favorite Max. maybe slightly behind horny, protective and obedient Max) did NOT deserve that and everyone should rot in the darkest pit of hell for that. no less. cramps for you all.

5. we love Jean-Luc in this house. that was the resolution the three of us got to. my man deserves a cold pillow on both sides, a cup of tea and the chance to see his family anytime and to be happy forever. please don't make me hate him, I love him too much.

+1. if you've told me at the beginning of the year that I would be eating dinner with both my brother and my roomie while we were reading a quite explicit Lestappen omega verse fi in TV, no less, I would've not only not believed you. but died of shame or something like that. my yearly choice of a dead dove do not eat fic (I've been learning about tags!!!) has united this household. who would have thought that.

+2. Max is down BAD. but you know what, so is Charles. they really are exactly like the other. when Charles said that he was feeling lonely all I could think of is how Max said the exact same. and the hospital part had me kicking my feet, jumping around excitedly. then I alarmedly had to go all the way up to see in which chapter we were. and after, I just felt scared. chapter 16 is my worst nightmare it seems. how funny.

+3. hun, how has been your hand? I hope you're feeling better 🩷 as much as I love weekly uptades I can't help but feel worried that you might push your hand a lot. the chapter was absolutely lovely but remember to rest please 🙏🏼 speaking on my behalf and the other two readers' (and I hope everyone else's) we don't want you to be hurt, regardless of the fic.

thank you for the early uptade, even if now I'm a reckless driver to my country's police. at least I didn't read it while I was working. I don't know how I could've managed that.

I will take eternal allegiance wherever I can get it. I am making men kneel before me, one at a time, and so I'm glad to add two more to my collection.

cramps as a form of punishment .... you get it.

no because that whole heat sequence with Max .. melted me. he's so written by a woman coded in this fic (which you'd hope. considering he is. lmao)

he's hurt!!! he's sad!!! Max is going through a phase right now ok

the doctors name is Leo, and funnily enough Charles got Leo the same week that chapter came out and I was like ... Charles reads wygig confirmed

THIS IS A JEAN-LUC STAN ACCOUNT and honestly????? I love that you all love him. maybe he should get his own fic one day. who knows.

+1. the war being over because you've bonded over the lestappen war .... there's something so cosmic about that.

+2. everyone being on the edge of their seats for 16 ... god I'm good.

+3. thank you for the well wishes! it's wayyyyy better now, thank god.

p.s. I think maybe your brother and your roommate would riot if you read it at work without them sooooo

[turtlesocksv2]

Kinnporsche 12 Rewatch Thoughts

God, Chay not going through with the university interview is fucking heartbreaking. But if I was Porsche I would kick his ass, my god given right as Older Sibling. Porsche spent years busting his ass off working at the bar to give Chay the opportunity at a better life, is encouraging him to go to music school which is one of the worst fields re: actually making any money, and JOINED THE GODDAMN MAFIA so that Chay could keep his house and go to school and this ungrateful little shit! just throws it away! because he's ~sad about a boy~! NOT IN MY FUCKING HOUSE. Chay would be suplexed through a table if I was his older sibling. (yes yes i know it's more complicated than that and Chay is going through a lot! but my older sibling rage does not care for logic or reason, here)

I know Porsche and Pete are Besties but Porsche and Arm have such a solid friendship. Arm is his Bro. Arm is Team Porsche. They have secret codes about stalking Kinn for jealousy reasons. Arm asks Zero questions. Code Red?! Here is your access to all our surveillance tech, Porsche! but also, Porsche really needs to learn not to listen in to conversations when he's not ready to hear them.

Just Normal Kidnapping Things - reading horoscope books with your kidnappers pet hedgehog and making fun of/psychoanalyzing your kidnapper by telling him that he is sensitive and needs love. Hmmm, also I think Vegas knows here that something is wrong with Khun Spikes. Not how serious it is, but that something is Off.

Kinn admits that Korn was the one really pushing for him to get Porsche to work for them by any means necessary and Porsche asks THE burning question: Why Him? Kinn offers to help Porsche get the answers, but Porsche realizes that Kinn can't help him, not really. Because asking the questions Porsche really wants answered is going to involve going against Kinn's dad. And Kinn is the wrong Theerapanyakul for that. (ask Tankhun, porsche! Tankhun could probably get you the answers! The tragedy that no one realizes how smart Tankhun is.)

Every time Korn opens his mouth in this scene:

just straight up lying! all the time! When Porsche storms out and Kinn gives his dad the "really? you just fucked up the best thing to ever happen to me i can't believe you." look, that is not enough!

Ok so I absolutely believe the meta that Khun Spikes died while Pete was asleep and Vegas was just waiting for him to wake up so that he could stage Pete's 'escape'. He made sure Pete knew there were no guards, he left the key, the shirt. it was on purpose. the clues are all there. He had one pet die in that fucking safehouse and didn't want another. But Pete can't bring himself to leave when he sees how sad Vegas is. After they bury Khun Spikes, Vegas walks away from Pete, he doesn't even look back. He's letting Pete go!!! But Pete chooses to stay!

RIP Khun Spikes. King. Legend. Your legacy lives on.

You know, i didn't notice the first time through, but the cinematography and art direction in the VegasPete Fuck Nasty bondage chain sex is like...really unsettling. with the music and the quick cuts and everything. these are not two healthy individuals making smart choices and I love that for them. glad it works out for them in the end.

aaaaaand we immediately go to Bread Product Placement. fucking love Farmhouse Breads for greenlighting the absolutely batshit insane product placement. them and Deutsche Bank.

Kinn is such a schmoopy, gooey bastard when he's in love. "i could live anywhere as long as it's with you" Korn is now terrified that Kinn is gonna pull a Nampheung and run off with a Kittisawat Boy.

here we go, the really fucking weird Tay-Porsche conversation where Tay says that Time doesn't really love him and it's not like it is with KinnPorsche. what an absolutely batshit weird thread that's just vaguely in the background. i have to know what was cut for time/pacing. also, I think Tay might have had feelings for Kinn at some point and even if he's not currently, like, in love with Kinn there's still a light "Kinn would treat me better than Time does :(" energy. and he's right! Kinn would treat him better than Time does! Dump Time's fickle ass! When Porsche tells Tay that he and Kinn are both out of the business now, Tay gets this look on his face like:

And of course Korn can sense that Kinn is happy and has to crash the party and ruin it. (I do like how in tune Tay and Time were here, they've been Kinn's friends long enough to realize it's about to go down and they should leave.)

I do have to wonder what that dude did to piss Korn off that he gave Porsche his picture and address and said "this is the man that killed your parents. have fun :)" He had to know there was the possibility that Porsche would go through with it. just like there was a possibility that he wouldn't. so did korn care if this guy dies? does he die a few weeks later in a mysterious accident anyway? HMMMM. Anyway, Porsche choosing not to kill the guy is such an important moment. We're on a Porsche Corruption Arc but he's not that far gone.

Chan just looms in the background and i am dying to know what he knows. what he thinks. he's been korn's right hand man and closest bodyguard for so long. he must know so much.

Kim realizing just how much he fucked up with Chay is hilarious. And Chay trying to have his post-breakup rebellion is even funnier. sir, you are a kitten you do not drink or do drugs or have dyed hair.

Uncle Thee is a dick for extorting Porsche, but you know what, Stopped Clocks and all that. He's right to tell Porsche not to trust Korn. I do wonder if he knows exactly what happened back then or if he's just bullshitting.

[blujaishah]

hi! How’s it going?

This is a good opportunity to explain why I haven't been posting art dont read any of it if u dont want to it's more for me

Aside from normal academic stuff it's mostly because my school's literary magazine is allowing submissions and I really want to get my art in it (you're a published artist/author if you get in it)

Thing is last year I didn't get my art in it (I made a self portrait titled 'hearts' that I stupidly never took a picture of because I never got it back) but they had too many art submissions and not enough literary submissions so most of the art got cut from the magazine

So I think you can tell that I was pissy bc I really need to get my art in this thing

So now I have been focusing a lot on my submission because I'm writing something with it, it's gonna look like a children's picture book with multiple drawings and a story

I might post it here if it doesn't end up being too personal but prob not

It's taking me a while because one i want it to look good and two i want it to look painted and that isn't my normal style and three because I am not a writer

Another reason as to why I'm not posting is because I'm looking for jobs because ur girl does not have money and that's something I wanna prioritize

And the last reason is less fun and something that I genuinely need to type out and admit in writing is that my parents are absolute batshit crazy and I want nothing more than to complete my high school credits and leave my home town

My sister didn't mind leaving like I want to in fact she wanted to get as far away from us (specifically my dad) as possible but she has no problem having me with her and husband because they've somewhat settled down

She's traveled the world and she's pretty cool, she's at a very prestigious university, she went to Thailand in high school, she's been to Jordan, Lebanon, and a couple years ago she went to Palestine for a year and became a high school teacher there she's awesome

It would be amazing to go to college where she is (i'm in a position financially and academically where going out of state for college is very possible ESPECIALLY where she is) and also to get to know her husband more would be great cause we barely got to know each other when he was here

My brother on the other hand didn't want to leave our mom but really needed to get out of the house because of our dad so now he's in this really awkward position where he lives in an apartment literally a 15 minutes walk from our house and by extension his very comfortable bedroom, and also he comes home every night to see our mom

It absolutely sucks and I very much want to leave my home even though I say what my parents want me to say I'll do after high school when I'm around them

My dad is demented and I have no problem admitting that he's never abused me physically but he has verbally quite a few times and hinted at physical abuse and it gets to me a lot

mostly it's about academics which he is quite literally insane for thinking I don't do well academically

There's a lot of stuff with him that's god awful and i wont get into it because that's what I do in a therapeutic environment which I cant get without being gaslit by my family so yeah

I can't draw anything except what I have to with all this it's a lot to be thinking about because I'm still just a kid and idk i can't handle it maturely so I have to write about it on tumblr lmao

[hydrangea-mon-amor]

Ok hear me outfdjjsn

I was wondering about the lore for Jaydee and Valery's relationship, ik it was a given that they were somehow sweet(??) With one another especially how Dante mentioned several nicknames Valery used to give to Jaydee before they broke up- like what were they like with one another--

Also i am absolutely living in this silly headcanon that Jaydee's Reader and Valery's reader are relatives, like imagine if they were twins and at some point i can see them having a mix and match scenario its just silly whhahahahddhs

I love u and ur content sm like mwamwa stay hydrated always 🙇‍♀️❤

-your new 🌟 anon

I love you anon 🌟

Okay so it is a given that both of them are absolutely batshit crazy, and yes you are correct Valery’s darling and Jaydee’s darling are related in a sense. I wouldn’t say they are biologically related because otherwise the story would very different. I would imagine one of the darlings would try to help the other darling to escape if that was the case. I see them as more of acquaintances. They have heard of each other before, maybe I ought to explore their relationship a bit more through future fics.

Anywho, Valery and Jaydee were a couple for roughly 2 years, they broke up in the beginning of junior year. Even then, Valery and Jaydee are still useful to one another that is why they still hang around each other. I imagine them to have been really good friends throughout middle school, it was Jaydee who confessed his feelings to Valery in freshman year, under a oak tree in their city.

When they were dating, they were very loving with one another. Just ask Dante. It was Valery who mostly used outrageous nicknames to Jaydee, but he too also used them, just not as often. That changed when he met you though

This is where Jaydee is going to sound like a prick, before he ever met you, he wasn’t 100% faithful to Valery. In Sweet Injuries it’s noted that when Valery came to his house to break up, he was in the process of trying to make another girl fall in love with him, even though he was in a relationship. Valery is a girl that loves hard no matter if it was in a yandere sense or not. So for a while she truly was trying to make it work, even though she knew she could never have Jaydee to herself 100%. But when she met you, she decided to finally let him go.

When their mutual friends heard of their break up, for a while they had no idea what to do. Oscar was the one that was genuinely tweaking out, because he liked Valery as a friend and he was worried that Jaydee was going to make him chose sides. Imagine his surprise when Jaydee and Valery came to school the next day still on good terms? Alas, they were all on edge for a few days.

To add in Drama, that was also the day that you and Jaydee confessed your feelings for one another. Trust it’s all going to make sense once I publish this fic I’m working on.

When their families caught wind of this they were genuinely shocked. Dante was shocked that Valery would ever break up with him, and Valery’s parents were upset because they had thought they lost a huge sponsor for their business. They didn’t.

In future fics, I’ll delve deeper into why they still find each other as “useful” but just for now, I’ll say it has to do something with their darlings, though I think that may have been hinted in Visit me, will you

otherwise, why else would Valery tell Jaydee where you were?

[wordtotherose]

"Stop walking away from me!" Elizia takes a deep breath, doesn't close her eyes or frown or furrow her brow, she stays perfectly still. "Listen to me for Hell's sake and stop lying. You aren't fine and frankly, if you couldn't tell, neither am I."

Astarion is a breath away from her face, fists in her nightshirt, holding her close without a care for the pull of the collar around her neck. His breath smells of wine, the bad stuff he only drinks when he's upset. And right now, he's furious. Incandescent with his rage. She cannot show how much his wrathful accusations hurt her, because he will fold into himself, he will crumple and this conversation won't have a chance in hell of progressing. It needs to happen, she knows it does, she's been putting it off and throwing herself into everything and anything to avoid talking to him. Because it's insane, what she's dealing with, absolutely batshit insane and if he doesn't question her sanity after she tells him then…then…well, then she won't know what to do. And that's terrifying. Far scarier than the vampire threatening her. Letting him win is the only way forward or they will be back to where they've been for the past however many days since they moved into this house. It's not yet a home, maybe one morning soon she will wake up and it will feel safe, it will feel like a refuge from the world and all its problems. It doesn't yet. It certainly won't if this is how they're going to be the entire time living under the same roof. And whilst it is entirely her fault right now, she wouldn't lie to him. She is fine enough.

"Astarion," she keeps her voice level, tone as clear of judgment as she can manage in this situation, "I am not lying to you."

He shakes her harshly before pushing her away with an aching look of disgust. "I don't understand, Tavaril. I cannot see what it is I have done between then and now, maybe it's just time. Maybe you've just finally realised the- the reality of chaining yourself to a vampire. An, in your defense in this, admittedly messed up vampire spawn. It makes sense. After all, this cannot be what you want. This perversion of a life. You are miserable, it hasn't escaped my notice that you can't stand to be in the same room as me let alone look at me or, gods forbid, touch me! This is the first time I've seen you in three days, Tav, and you're already leaving again."

Continue Reading on AO3 or under the cut.

He stops abruptly when she flinches, dismay breaking through her mask. He only calls her that when talking about her to the others. It is always, always an endearment or the full versions of her names when speaking to her directly. Never Tav. Not once since they met. She can't get herself together again quick enough to say something before he's back on his roll.

"What?" He snaps. "The truth not meeting your expectations? Lie to yourself, Tav, but don't you dare lie to me, I've had enough of that in my life. I know you're still not sleeping, I can hear you through the wall and yet you make me listen unable to do anything to help. You say you are 'fine' and you send me away. What changed? What did I fucking do? I thought- Gods! I honestly let myself believe you when you said you wanted to live with me, that you wanted our future. Together. But no. Of course not. Why wait until now? Why now, after everything?"

"I haven't lied to you," she repeats, knocked off balance by just how bad she has let it get, just how much she has hurt him, and, because she can barely find the courage to look at him with the guilt on her shoulders, she falls back on cursed old habits. "Astarion, my love, I have been busy, too busy, and I am sorry about that but can't we just-"

"Busy? Busy? With what, Tav? What could there possibly be left to do? What is more important than even just saying a gods damned cordial hello in passing? You know Gale came by trying to find you earlier? 'Where's Tav?' He asked and I looked like a fucking idiot without a clue because my own lover won't look at me let alone talk to me. 'Apologies, Gale, I haven't the faintest idea where Tav is-!' He was sympathetic, he was pitying, do you have any idea how mortifying that was? He's going to ask about it, Tav, at-"

"Stop it!" The shout is nearly a scream of frustration and she cannot regret it even when he looks feral in his own damned vindication in getting a rise out of her, she's playing right into his hand; deep down, she's grateful that he can do this, that he isn't afraid to do this. "Stop fucking calling me that. You never call me that. I'm sorry I've not been around, okay? I miss you, I miss you, you fucking idiot, but I have been trying to process the fact I died and that I have nothing left! I just keep losing everything. Not for one second have I wanted this, you're right, I have imprisoned you in this house and I- I have nothing left… nothing to give you, no leads to follow, nothing but my own trauma and my own gods damned ghosts. Can you honestly say this is what you signed up for? To have to look after me when I cannot think, when I cannot even get out of bed because of the pain? In the space of so many months I have lost everything I had. I- You all were a family to me, you became everything, I would have done anything for any of you and now where are they? I'm alone, again. And I didn't even get to say goodbye."

She squeezes her eyes shut against the prickling of tears, hides in her hands and drops into a crouch right there on their upstairs landing outside their bedroom doors. Breathe. Breathe. Just breathe.

"Nothing." Astarion's echo of her is empty, cold as the void of the Astral Plain. "Well. At least you're not pretending anymore, I suppose."

She scratches her fingers into her hair, forehead to her knees, and digs in with her nails to the short hairs that are doing a horrendous job at growing back. She honestly has forgotten about the sensitive scars until they sting and she's already letting go but Astarion is faster. He's on her in an instant, yanking her wrists away in a vice grip as he holds them to his chest. She glares up at him as he crowds over her, lips pulled back over his fangs in a snarl.

"Stop it, you fool!" Astarion yanks her into the curve of his body, twisting her to wrap his arms tight around her, back to his chest, wrists pinned to her own chest now in a cross.

She grunts and kicks her legs out in front of her, wriggling to try and break free but he has no problem holding on. He continues growling into her ear telling her to stop, to relax, to get it together. There's been moments, like this, since she woke up with half a brain still mush and a body lethargic no matter how much she sleeps. Moments when she cannot do it, this thing called coping or living or surviving, when she's fighting for her life on a brain above the sea again. When she wants it to just stop and that means winning the fight. Sometimes it's darker. A desire heavy and thick like wading through treacle in her mind as she craves and end to sensation, no more thoughts, no more arguing, no more having to try because if she doesn't try then who is going to try for her? No one. No one will. No one ever has.

Astarion is normally softer, more patient, gentler when he has to hold her still. Normally the words he repeats are comforting promises of peace. Normally he isn't accusing her of getting bored of him, of wanting to leave him. Normally…normally she trusts him not to leave her in the aftermath.

"Let me go, Astarion, let me go, please, if you're going to do this then just go, I don't want to do this to you, to us. If you want to go it's okay, I promise, it's okay, you can just tell me. Please just tell me," she begs, chin to her chest.

He exhales heavily and it flows through her. "You know I hate being the sensible one but since you're not stepping up, I guess you leave me no choice."

A sob escapes her as his chin drops onto the top of her head, at the start of her scars.

"When did you last sleep?"

It's not what she expects. Maybe that's why she tells him the truth.

"I can't."

"Right. And where have you been?"

Another sob. "I- it's stupid-"

"Tavaril," the edge is back in his voice, she buckles instantly.

"I can't find his grave," she cries, shaking in his hold as he settles more comfortably around her, legs cradling around her own; he starts to rock them ever so gently back and forth, like she does for him after a nightmare or memory. "I don't remember where they said they would bury him, I didn't go, I didn't- I didn't and all I could see when- when I was dying was him and he's lost. He's lost and he's haunting me, I can't let him go again."

"Oh darling…"

"I can't be- be happy, Astarion, it doesn't work that way. It has never worked that way. I lost him, I let him die whilst I fucking /slept/ and then you- I've ruined you! I've made you just as much a slave to me and my protection as you were to him after promising you what you wanted and then I died and then- then it hit me that I'm going to die again, Astarion, again and there won't be any coming back from that one!"

"...I forgot how much you can talk. It's all absolute shit, of course, but you can really keep it up when you get going."

She screams in frustration and tries to fight her way out again but he holds her tight until the energy seeps away once more, leaving her boneless and cold. After a moment Astarion clears his throat.

"It seems I owe you an apology, my dear. I may have let my own…insecurities," he says the word with a frown she can feel but not see as he hides his face in her neck, "rule my judgment. Though I am not alone in that, it seems. You are nothing like him, my sweet, and it…it pains me to know you think that about yourself. You have your ghosts and I have my own, seven odd thousand of them are in fact actually possibly looking for me so I think I have you beat there."

"I'm not lying," she whispers.

"No, you're not, are you? You damnably honest thing."

"Let me go…"

"You don't actually want me to, do you? Tell me you want me to leave, all else and I will stay. I will stay and you will sleep, in my arms, on my chest or on your own and I will lie on your back as you like. I- We will look together for his resting place. And you will eat. You will rest. You and I will stay here in this frankly hideous house and redecorate to make it liveable and you will remind me that if nothing else, I can protect you from yourself. We have time, Elizia. I promised you we would give planning our next adventure before diving into it a go and I'm not one for breaking promises. You don't have to do anything but rest and recover right now, darling, we will go looking for trouble and artifacts or spells or scrolls when we are both ready."

She shudders, curling her legs up and pushing back into him, reassured by his strength of presence. His words are honey sweet and missing all of the insincerity she used to be so used to. She's an idiot. An exhausted, forever in physical pain nowadays, self-sabotaging idiot.

"Why are you laughing, you weirdo? Do you have a single sane emotion in you at the minute or do I need to take you to get looked at, not that I imagine much can be done that hasn't already."

"I once thought," she says even though she probably shouldn't, "that we'd never get here."

"Yes, I know, you thought you were going to die. It was only a month and a bit ago, darling. You truly have a knack for making a painful conversation worse."

"No, no, I thought we'd never be here. Where I'd- I couldn't say what I want and you'd know anyway. You'd hear me anyway."

He scoffs and prompts her to turn around. She goes, lets him manouver her to face him and he immediately crawls into her lap, straddling her legs. He's taller than her already but like this he has an extra inch or so. She wraps her arms around his back tentatively, tears drying on her cheeks until he brushes them away.

"I'm not leaving. So don't leave me either, Elizia, please. I'm not above begging for this. Not anymore. I spent too long thinking you died because of my monstrous needs to think I could ever really want to be parted from you. Self-sacrificing moron that you are trying to be."

"I don't know how to keep you, how to fix things," she says pitifully, looking up into his earnest expression like a penitent searching for absolution in the idol of their god. "I couldn't face leaving but I couldn't tell you to go either, even to save you. It's been so long since I remembered him so clearly and now I can't stop. He's driving me to destruction and I don't want to ruin you anymore than I already have. I promised you sunlight and I'm breaking my promise."

"Stop saying you've ruined me, would you? You're giving yourself far too much credit for everything that happened. I made my choices, you played a part, yes, but they were my choices, my actions. And you don't need to fix anything. Nothing is broken. I've lived two hundred years in the dark, in far, far worse conditions than this. You know that. You saw the state of the palace. You read their shitty little diaries, heard what Bodey said. Elizia, we have a home, we have…ugh friends, don't tell Gale I said that. I have a lover, a partner who is my equal and who I know, moments like this aside, has seen me at my worst and still trusts me, still cares for me."

"Loves you. Who loves you."

For the first time in so long she gets to see his smile, genuine and soft.

"Who loves me, yes."

"I shouldn't have said what I did. You're right. I have so much…so, so much."

"And just to check, you are including me in that, yes?"

She swats his arm before holding his hand, blushing a little when he presses his thumb into her palm like she does for him so often. "I don't know, that depends on if I'm still wanted. Screwed up as I am after everything. You've…I've been making you carry more than your fair share of all of this since the move. I should be pulling my weight better. I want to pull my weight, not just chase after one of my problems to avoid another."

He quirks a brow and she backpedals gracelessly.

"No! That's not what I meant. Stop being a bastard, that's not what I meant and you know it. You're not a problem. I promise."

"I don't know, I thought you rather liked how much of a bastard I am," he teases, pulling his most offended pout even as she swats at him again.

"Shut up," she grumbles, dropping her weight back to flop onto the floorboards fully. "See if I apologise again."

He runs his fingers mindlessly over her ribs, up around her chest, grazes the skin on show but retreats to the safety of fabric. "I accept your apology, my cantankerous darling. And I apologise too for assuming the worst of you. That was…"

"Understandable, it was understandable, Astarion. I needed pushing. Gods know how long I would have kept it up if you hadn't."

"Hmm…perhaps."

"Can we talk about the rest of it tomorrow? I am actually exhausted."

"Sulking your way round the city on your own does tend to have a depressing effect on a person," he muses, not making any start towards moving. "I've heard it's less so with company though."

Elizia drops her hands on top of his thighs, just resting them there as she looks up at him, apparently puzzled by his obvious offer. "You truly want to go traipsing around graveyards all day- night, sorry? You?"

"I am a vampire if you'll remember, I've done my fair share of graverobbing."

"You have not."

"Have too." He retorts. "People get buried with all sorts of treasures. As you well know, darling."

She yawns unexpectedly, her eyes stay closed afterwards. Like this, with the comforting weight of Astarion above, she feels like a cat luxuriating in a sunbeam, utterly drained of all the tension of the past couple days. Well. Months. "You can prove nothing in a court of law," she says sleepily.

"Not without indicting myself, I suppose."

"My point exactly. Can we sleep here tonight? I don't think I can move anymore."

He shifts his weight and she swears if she could purr she gods damned would be as he carefully settles himself on top of her, head tucked under her chin, legs entwined sort of awkwardly with her own.

"Only so long as it doesn't become a habit. We finally have actual, honest to god, good beds and you still want to sleep on the bloody ground."

"Just leave me here when you get uncomfortable or bored if you're not gonna sleep."

"Yes because that will be so good for you, darling."

"Carry me then, I don't care. I'll be asleep."

"...Elizia."

"Astarion."

"Are…"

She cracks an eye open, concerned, and buries a hand in his curls, petting them as soothingly as she knows how. "Astarion," she repeats, softly pressing for him to continue.

He clears his throat to put it off a moment longer. "I simply meant to ask whether we are…okay?"

"Whether we're okay?"

"If you could refrain from the mimicry for the current moment, that'd be much appreciated."

She winces. "Sorry, I didn't mean it like that. I just…how do you mean? I think we're okay. I'm okay, well. No. But. Right now, I'm alright, honestly. Are you?"

"Fine. I'm fine. Just…not used to… Getting things wrong used to be much more dangerous. For me. It wasn't…well, it certainly never ended with a cuddle and apologies, that's for sure."

"Oh… I… I see. Do you…" biting her lip, she gently untangles a snare in the curls by his ear. "Do you want to talk about it?"

"No. Not tonight. Can we just…" he doesn't finish, falling into his own thoughts, beyond her reach; she lets him go, trusts that he'll come back, when he's ready, when he can.

She can't remember falling asleep but when she stirs sometime later, still half in a dream, she turns over in her own bed and finds red eyes glinting in the candlelight shining from her bedside table. They're perusing a book but drift down to her as she blinks slowly, ever so slowly, fighting off the cotton clouds of rest long enough to shuffle closer to Astarion. She wraps herself around his nearest leg and clumsily moves to rest her cheek on his thigh, ready to go back to sleep. Cool fingers stroke across her braid and stay there, supporting her neck in her awkward angle of choice so she doesn't slip back down at least while she's conscious enough to grouch about it. She thinks she mumbles a thank you but can't be sure before she's floating away again, peacefully content.