#not my dog I’m housesitting at the moment | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

waithyuck · 4 years ago

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flame

pairing: dragon!mark lee x reader (f) *halloweenie special*

genre: smut, supernatural au

word count: 3k

warnings: BIG DICK MARK LEE, but also shy mark lee, sexual content, thigh riding, unprotected sex, kinda sub mark for like a couple seconds but then those dragon instincts kick in, biting, slight alcohol consumption, light cockwarming, overall sweetness **unedited**

a/n: I simp for mark lee on the daily ofc I had to write some smut ab him OFC

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~10/21/2020~

~~~~

“mark lee, if you don’t get your fire breathing ass back in that kitchen in two seconds, I’m cutting your tail off.” you heard your boss call out, her voice stern as she pierced her gaze through your blushing coworker. he mumbled a hushed apology before rushing past you and into the back, knocking all kinds of things over on his way.

mark was a clumsy dragon; being a dragon wasn’t an uncommon thing, considering the world was littered with creatures now, but you had never met one as shy or as clumsy as mark lee.

he was shy and always spoke quietly, and rarely ever looked anyone in the eyes. in fact, you were certain you’d never actually seen his eyes, even after working with him for two years.

you had become friends with him in that time, and currently was the reason why he just got hollered at by your manager. you probably shouldn’t have called him up from his station just to bullshit around.

you considered mark one of your closest friends now, even if he was still a shy mess around you. he opened up a little bit, to your surprise, but never fully. you couldn’t lie to yourself and say you didn’t have a small crush on him, despite him having the personality of a small, naked dog.

he seemed to trust you though, so it shouldn’t have surprised you when he came to you after work asking for a favor.

you were on your way to your car when you felt a warm hand softly grip your wrist, stopping you from walking any further. you turned around startled at first, not knowing it was him until you saw his face in front of you. you smiled at him.

“hey markie.” you greeted sweetly, moving your arm back down to your side once he let go of you. his lips quirked you slightly at the nickname, but as quickly as you saw it, it disappeared.

“hi y/n,” he let out quietly, wringing his hands together. “I have a, uh, favor to ask of you, if that’s okay.”

you quirked your eyebrow at him, your curiousity piqued. you gestured for him to continue and he let out a large warm breath as his thin tail flicked behind him.

“would you mind, um,” he scratched the back of his neck. “housesitting my grandma’s place with me this weekend? I don’t wanna be alone in there…”

you blinked in silence at him for a moment, processing his request before replying.

“mark,” you started, looking him in the eyes, “you’re telling me that you’re a fucking dragon,” you stated in disbelief, your hip cocked to one side as you stood across from him. “but you can’t stay the night at your grandma’s house alone? aren’t you supposed to be like, the most powerful creature in the world?”

he blushed and looked down at his feet, one little fang poking out over his bottom lip as he played with his fingers bashfully. when he didn’t reply a small frown made its way to your lips, and you quickly clapped a hand on his shoulder.

“sure mark, I’ll house-sit with you.” you smiled, trying to find his eyes. when he smiled back and glanced at you, your heart seemed to flutter on its own accord, and you stepped back out of his space.

you cleared your throat. “just text me the details. I’ll see you later!”

with that, you quickly ran off to your car, starting the engine and driving away. you didn’t even notice how the boy you had just left stared after you, his eyes glowing gold in the setting sunlight.

mark didn’t take long to send you the details, and before you knew it the weekend had rolled in. you met up with him at his place and he drove the both of your across town to where his grandmother’s house resided, and you can’t say you weren’t awestruck at the size of it.

it looked like a true mansion; but more like one from some bad horror movie that was haunted by 100 year old dead girls or something. you had to admit, it gave you the creeps and now you were beginning to understand why mark didn’t want to stay here alone.

“so uh, the electricity seems to be out.” he stated once the two of you made yourselves comfortable inside the home. you two looked at each other briefly, both of your eyes wide. “she didn’t mention that on the phone.”

you sucked in air through your teeth, but knew you would have to deal with being in the dark in an old and creepy mansion that was owned by a woman most likely close to death herself.

“it’ll be fine,” you reassured him, placing your backpack down on the floor in front of the sofa. upon opening it, you pulled out two wine bottles, much to mark’s surprise.

you smirked at him. ��are you down to drink with me?”

he nodded almost instantly, and you grinned back.

fast forward an hour later, and you were definitely a little wine drunk. you weren’t too far gone; you still had some wits about you, but everything seemed to just feel a tad bit too good for you to be completely sober.

you and mark were giggling back and forth over stupid nonsense, and you felt your heart flutter everytime the harmonious sound of his laughter left his body.

god, you really were such a goddamn simp for this boy. “so, markie,” you blurted, smiling dumbly at him as you set your glass down on the coffee table in front of you. you curled your legs up under you as you turned to face him on the couch, your face resting on you palm. “do you have a girlfriend?”

“a g-girlfriend?” he squeaked out cutely, his eyes wide as he stared at you from across the couch. “uh, n-no. uhm, not many girls really like me like that.” he laughed it off, his hand coming up to rest behind his head shyly. you almost melted at the sight of him acting so bashful, even though you’ve seen it countless times in the time you’ve known him.

you snorted in response, “oh god mark, I beg to differ.” it may have been the small amount of wine in your system, but whatever spurred you to move closer to him was growing with every passing second, weakening your willpower. your knees rested against his leg as you now leaned against him, your chin incredibly close to resting on his shoulder.

his wide brown eyes looked down at you, and you watched his throat bob as you swallowed heavily, most likely a little nervous at your proximity. you smiled at him sensually, your eyes trying to convey as much of your emotions as possible to him.

“I think you’re very attractive,” you mumbled sweetly, not making any moves to get closer or touch him just yet, in case he wasn’t into this like you obviously were. considering you just outed that you thought he was cute, now was as good a time as any to just let it all loose.

“I think I like you, mark.”

he kissed you, which caused you to squeak in surprise. you quickly recovered however, and immediately threw yourself over him to straddle his lap, kissing him back with just as much fire.

it really shocked you; you weren't prepared for mark to have the balls to kiss you first, but you welcomed it, causing your core to grow hot at the thoughts of him doing more to you.

“I like you t-too.” he muttered out between kisses, his tongue finding your own as the two of you felt each other on the couch in the darkness of his grandmother's old house.

his hands held steady on your waist; every so often you would feel his fingers squeeze at your sides, but nothing much more than that.

you were growing insatiable at the point, your core aching to feel something against it, so you decided to take matters into your own hands.

“can I ride your thigh?” you asked breathlessly, pulling back from his lips to look into his eyes. they were tinged gold; little flecks of the color breaking up the deep natural brown of his irises. you felt his fingers squeeze your hips ever so slightly, and he nodded simply in response, his lips moving up timidly to connect with yours once again.

you situated yourself so that you were straddling one of his legs, the muscle of his thigh pressed right up against your already aching core deliciously. you sighed in content as you pressed against him, pulling your head away to throw it back in pleasure. mark didn’t hesitate to kiss your neck delicately, pressing small kisses along the column of your throat and around the sweet spots down near your collarbones.

your panties were soaked in seconds, and you were sure he could feel it even through the material of his black jeans, the two sets of fabric the only things separating you from feeling skin on skin.

you couldn’t help but begin to grind your hips back and forth, the delicious feeling of his hard muscle pressing against your clit making you almost delirious. his hands on you hips helped drag you back and forth against him, and before long you had built up a steady rhythm that had you weak and whining.

“mark,” you moaned out, catching his attention instantly. “mark I need you to fuck me,” you were panting, both hands on his shoulders as you borderline aggressively humped his leg, your eyes pleading and your lips parted in pleasure.

“fuck, okay yeah, yeah I’ll fuck you,” he stuttered out, hoisting you off of him with ease and maneuvering you onto your back below him, your core clenching at the display of his inhuman strength.

it was a battle to get as many articles of clothing off of your two bodies as possible, and in the end your clothes were thrown every which way around the room, leaving you both naked and needy in front of each other.

you almost cried when you saw his cock in the dim light, twitching in front of your very eyes.

“holy fuck, mark,” you gasped, eyes widening as you sat up on your elbows to get a good look at his raging cock. “you’re fucking huge, are you trying to kill me?”

he blushed sweetly in response but you caught the sight of his dick twitching, indicating that he liked the praise you gave him.

you sighed and laid back down flat, motioning for him to crawl forwards on top of you and he complied within seconds. you glanced down between your bodies to look at his dick once again, your brain still not comprehending his size.

you decided you didn’t want any prep. you wanted to feel every second of the burning stretch.

“you’re seriously gonna destroy me, mark.” you stated flatly, but you weren’t so opposed to the idea. in truth, you wanted him to annihilate you like the dragon stud you knew he was; no mercy, making you cry for his cock like a good little slut. you shivered at the thought.

“we can s-stop, we don’t have to—“ he began to say, but you slapped a hand across his mouth, much to his surprise. he looked confused, but didn’t try to remove your hand from where it laid on his lips.

you smiled, “that’s not a bad thing, baby,” you murmured, leaning up to trail your lips along his ear. “I want you to absolutely obliterate this pussy, you understand?”

it wasn’t like you to dirty talk in bed, but there was something about the way he reacted to your every word that had you more vocal than usual. before you could think, mark had your back pinned to the cushions once again, his eyes glowing a bright gold as they bore down into your own with an intensity you couldn’t hope to match.

bingo.

he grabbed his dick and quickly aligned it with your entrance, sliding in slowly and stretching you out at a snail's pace.

the stretch was gradual; you could feel every inch of him sinking inside you and the feeling sent a shock down your spine, causing your walls to involuntarily clench around his still moving cock.

you were grateful that he was patient and slow, not moving too quickly or harshly so that he wouldn’t cause you any pain. you let out a low moan when you felt his thumb press directly onto your clit, and the action surprised you. you didn’t expect mark to take the confident initiative like that, but you weren’t complaining as he started rubbing soft circles around the nub.

without warning, mark took your hips in both his hands and flipped you onto your side, his cock slipping out in the process as he laid behind you, effectively spooning your body. he drew in close, and you whined at the feeling of his thin tail coming up to wrap around one of your legs, helping his arm lift it up and keep in place so he had perfect access to your dripping cunt.

mark’s nose nudged against your temple as he leaned in, his lips softly placing a kiss on your cheek as you gasped for breath.

“can I have you like this?” he asked softly, still pressing gentle kisses against your skin. with a firm nod you gave him permission, and he immediately lined himself up with your more than ready entrance once again.

he slipped inside easier this time, bottoming out within seconds and making you squeak at the feeling. he waited for you to adjust, your twitching walls around him not letting up for the first minute he was inside you. once you relaxed enough, he began smoothing rocking his hips in and out of you, slowly dragging his cock against your walls as he fucked you.

you bit the throw pillow before you as you felt his tail tighten around your leg, tingles starting to become prevalent as he effectively cut off some of the blood flow.

you weren’t complaining.

“faster, please,” you whined out, your nails ripping into the pillow as he complied almost instantaneously. his hips postponed in and out of your dripping hole as best they could, his hips roughly slapping against the skin of your ass as he plowed you with all his might.

you bit back your screams as his land left your leg, his strong tail holding it in place as he reached around to play with your nipple, flicking and teasing the bud as he fucked you.

his tip ever so slightly bumped your cervix with every earth shattering thrust, and you threw your head back into his chest as he kept up his speed and rhythm.

“does it feel good, y/n?” he asked deeply, almost like a growl. the vibrations that you felt rumble his chest had your toes curling, and you could feel your stomach tightening as you grew closer and closer to your release.

when you didn’t immediately answer, you felt his teeth bite into your shoulder as punishment. you whimpered at the feeling, you pussy clenching around his still pounding cock.

“answer me.”

you could only nod your head frantically, your brain not working enough to process any words to spew back at him. he seemed content enough with your reply, and you were almost grateful that he didn’t force you to speak. you were sure you would have sounded like a pathetic mess.

if it was even possible at this point, he managed to pick up the speed of his thrusts, fucking you into oblivion until all you could do was moan out strangled versions of his name. before long, you were coming undone, your fluttering walls clamping strongly down onto his cock, causing him to seize up behind you with a roar.

you could physically feel the powerful spurts of his cum shooting inside you right up against your cervix, pairing it white with his seed. you moaned at the feeling, your body still twitching in his hold.

he gently laid your leg back down, his tail unraveling to reveal indentation marks in your skin from where it had been gripped. your thigh was especially bad, but you were definitely not complying, the sight causing your core to flutter once more around him.

you laid in silence for a while, finding comfort in each other’s breathing. he kept himself sheathed inside you, the warmth of him comforting as you laid with your back pressed up against his sweaty chest.

“...I don’t think this is what my grandmother had in mind when she asked me to house-sit.” mark suddenly mumbled into your hair, reaching around to delicately play with your fingers with his own.

you snorted weakly in response, chuckling a bit. “are you complaining?”

“no,” he hummed, clarifying. “i think this was the best night of my life.” he kissed your cheek then, causing you to smile. he nuzzled his face into the back of your neck, and you could feel the small grin on his face.

“thank you, y/n.”

you could only hum back in return, the swelling of your heart overwhelming your senses as the sweet voice of the boy you’ve been crushing on lured you into a deep relaxed state.

you wouldn’t trade this for the world.

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alloverthegaf · 4 years ago

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Is your cat going with you? Can you get more pets now

god I wish. mum won’t let me take him with me. technically I guess he is her cat, or the family cat which equals her cat, but she’s admitted for years that I’ve become his human. he latched on to me and he’s gotten more or less used to me being away for housesitting but I’m still his sort of security blanket when I’m there. unfortunately it’s not going to happen. I’m really sad about it and I’m going to miss the absolute hell out of him, but Ron and I do plan on getting our own pets when we’re financially stable enough. Getting another devon rex will be very expensive unless we find a rescue, which I would prefer anyway, but I also want a rat and Ron wants a large dog, which will also be expensive because even though we’d both prefer a mix breed and thus, most likely, a rescue, big dogs eat a fucking lot. so we have lots of pet plans, but unfortunately none of them include my baby or will happen right away. at least until we find our own place we will have Toby, Ron’s parents’ dog, who is hilarious and adorable.

also Ron from the moment he found out I wanted to get a pet rat has wanted to build a maze for her, and has already multiple times looked at the taj mahals of rat cages, so I think I’m going to be very much enabled in my pet desires lmao

also also I briefly moved out of home once before, and on the day found a blanket that felt exactly like Watson’s fur, which I obviously bought after crying a little. so that’s going to be my literal security blanket while I get used to the idea of never falling asleep cuddling him again

#thank god Ron loves cuddling #because the idea of me not cuddling watson to sleep again kinda kills me #non fandom #asks #Anonymous

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ephrampettaline · 5 years ago

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tea with jam and bread | iann, freddie, ephram

It would be cheating to bring booze, because Iann would’ve just nicked it from Stonefruit anyway. So in the spirit of melon-Cthulu, instead Iann toted over a slim, well-packaged box of assorted glacé fruit which included small pears, clementines, plums and even a row of chestnuts, apparently. All of it derived in some supernatural way; because Iann wasn’t just satisfied with regular humanish tokens of appreciation. He jabbed at the doorbell of their Jamara mansion, calling out. “It’s me!!”

Ephram had, naturally, left the entirety of guest-preparation – from tidying to menu to decor – in Freddie’s hands. taking it upon himself only to dress himself and sit patiently through a short lecture from Oliver on what would count as proper behaviour during this little … playdate. “Well, I wouldn’t call it that,” Ephram protested mildly. “It’s a proper tea! Ain’t that pretty much the standard for polite gatherings?” Of course Iann chose that moment to ring the doorbell and simultaneously yell through the door and Ollie huffed in what passed in Chin for an amused eyeroll. “He’s excited,” Ephram said, with a firm nod. “I am too. Don’t make fun of us.”

He went to the door and opened it, flinging it wider than it really required as his eyes went immediately to the fancy box Iann was holding. “Is that for me? Come on in, man, good to see you oh hey is this fruit? And what’s ��” Ephram rudely took the box and started prying into it immediately, shutting the door behind Iann with his shoulder and hollering, “FREDDIE! IANN’S HERE! HONEEEEYYYY!”

The door was flung open by Pettaline, and Iann didn’t mind the way the witch grabbed the box. It was for them after all, but now Iann was wondering if he should’ve also brought….flowers or something pretty but impractical. Iann never really understood the appeal of bringing dead flowers to someone’s house as a greeting. At least booze was drinkable, candied fruit edible. If he could’ve brought over a fancy electric drill to help then out with future home repairs, he would’ve.

“Let him primp,” Iann said with a wave, when Ephram hollered for Freddie. He took off his coat and baseball cap as Pettaline asked about the gift. “It’s like those whole fruit that’ve been candied. The candymaker guaranteed they’d have a crunch and they were juicy. Oh! And they’re all grown in a special fairy farm, apparently. Not in the Otherworld, of course. But in some sort of magical pocket-dimension.”

Freddie, who still didn’t know what to make of this entire endeavour - caught somewhere between touched that it was happening, and waiting for the other shoe to drop - heard Ephram call for him and slipped on one more ring, straightening his watch on his wrist, before coming out of the closet and heading down the stairs, to see his husband and his business partner stood in the foyer pouring over some sort of box in Ephram’s hands.

“Hello, love,” Freddie said, dragging a hand slowly across the small of Ephram’s back and giving Iann a kiss on the cheek. “Sorry to keep you waiting,” he smirked, “-but I see you haven’t made it very far, so I suppose I’m not holding things up too badly. How are you, darling?” he asked, as Ollie trotted out, his nails clicking on the hardwood, to check on their progress.

Ephram held up the box for Freddie to look at, having already prised out a glistening sugary clementine for himself. “Chestnuts,” he supplied helpfully, “magic ones, too. From a fairy farm. I didn’t think there was any fairies in the world who’d have an interest in farming, but then I reckon my view of fairies all revolves around you.” Ephram snickered and sampled the candied fruit, his teeth crunching into it – as promised – and syrupy juice dripping onto the floor. Not that he paid it any mind, tucking the rest of the sweet into his cheek so he could hang up Iann’s ballcap and coat.

“I know you been here before, Iann, but it’s different when we’re here too, ain’t it? I mean our home ain’t really homey unless we’re in it at the time.” Ephram gestured grandly to the enormous wooden sculpture of a raspberry that was reclining in the middle of their foyer. “Like it? I call it Bigfruit. Freddie thought it would look good there. It’s new since you was housesitting.” As if Iann wouldn’t have realized.

Freddie helped himself to a candied plum, smiling at the rich juicy flavour, chewed politely, swallowed, then laughed at his husband’s assessment of farming fairies. “In all honesty,” he said, “-I’d never have thought of farming as an attractive fae career option either - but it takes all sorts, I suppose. And if this is the crop they yield, it does make a bit more sense to me.” Freddie smiled again, rather proudly this time. “And Bigfruit DOES look good there. It’s a statement piece and it needs space to really be seen and experienced.”

“Good. Cold,” Iann responded gruffly, leaning into Freddie’s kiss before he nodded his chin towards the, well, Chin. “Hey you,” he said, because he’d just seen Ollie at the Stonefruit yesterday. It only made Iann realize then that he hadn’t seen Freddie there. Maybe the fairy was at the Inn yesterday, but Ollie was who Iann remembered. He took a tiny pear from the packet and crouched down, holding it out for the familiar to try as he squinted up at the other two. “Try this one. All types of fairies, all types of farms,” Iann intoned, then squinted between Freddie and Ephram’s legs at the wood sculpture. “Oh, uh. What is it?” Iann asked, his uncouthness shining through.

Ollie accepted the little pear graciously, made an approving sound, and shot a small doggie grin up at Iann, already pleased by how well things were going, then huffed out a put-upon sigh when Iann asked what Ephram’s sculpture was, wondering if this was the beginning of the end already.

“It’s a raspberry! Only big. Bigfruit,” Ephram supplied only semi-helpfully, figuring that from this angle, Iann wasn’t able to make out what the sculpture was exactly. He watched Ollie eat the pear, because seeing the little Chin eat non-dog-friendly food never got tired, and then rumpled the back of his head and asked, “Where we settling down, honey? The kitchen, or the living room? I can get the fire going.” He grinned at them both. “I can even use the magic way to get the fire going, for once. Instead of building one up my own self.”

Iann wasn’t out to be insulting or cruel, it was just he didn’t understand art, and didn’t try because it would be inauthentic. That didn’t mean he couldn’t respect creation, even if his artistic intelligence was low-to-nil. So when he stood up again he went over to the sculpture and pet at the drupelets. “Can I touch it?” Iann asked, even though he already was. “Is this mahogany? That’s a good wood.”

“I was thinking the living room, actually,” Freddie said, “I think we’ll all be happier if we keep things a bit more casual. So if you start the fire, sweetheart, that would be lovely, and I’ll start fetching things out of the kitchen.” He turned to Iann. “You make yourself at home, love, yeah?” and then glanced down at Ollie, fairy and familiar passing a silent communication between them before Ollie herded everyone off to the living room.

Ephram nodded, pleased by how this was all going so far. “Touch away,” he encouraged. “It looks like mahogany, don’t it? But it’s a local wood I discovered tends to fall over a lot in stiff winds, so I reckoned I’d make use of the downed logs. Called smoothbirch. Scratch it,” Ephram told Iann. “It smells like nutmeg.”

Once Bigfruit had been admired, they meandered to the living room where Ephram flicked at the ensorcelled control panel for the fireplace and flames instantly crackled along the small pile of logs there. “I don’t know what all Freddie made neither,” Ephram confided to Iann as the fairy bustled off to the kitchen. “So this is gonna be a surprise for me too. You'ns got somethang like this at work? At the bistro? We had to shut down a place near the University for having a high tea where they was booked up for months in advance.” Ephram paused, then elaborated, “–uh, on account of one of the proprietors being involved in criminal activities, not because of their tea. I just mean it seems like a popular thing.”

“No shit??” Iann said, perking up and using his bitten nails to scratch at the wood, leaning in to sniff it. “Smoothbirch,” Iann repeated to intern into his memory. “Where’d you find it?? I should ask Ranger Will to find me some, seems useful. Not for carving shit, I’ll leave that to the experts. But I think I’ve seen it mentioned for ritual stuff before. I just thought they meant birch that’s been like, sanded and aged and waxed or something.”

Iann followed Ollie and Ephram into the living room. He shook his head, then argued with himself at Ephram’s question. “No. Wewll yeah - I mean when it’s booked and arranged for a thing, a function or some special event, ah, special. Not a normal offer on the menu.” He grinned, finding a couch to sprawl onto. “Krizti Kameda, who ran Almond Cream Teahouse, yeahhhhh. I know what she was up to.” Iann dabbed at the side of his nose.

Freddie brought out his first tray of finger and open sandwiches, along with the slow-cooked breast of quail, set it all down, then paused to buss Ephram’s cheek and ask for help with the rest. “The cakes and pastries and the actual tea, love,” he murmured, “I’ll be ages dragging it all out here myself, and I’d rather not leave you and Iann on your own for too long.”

Ephram hopped to his feet, seeing no reason why he couldn’t loudly trail this conversation with him to the kitchen and back again. “Of /course/ you would know Ms. Kameda,” he said with laughing exasperation at Iann. “She’s right up your god dang alley, with her underhanded deals and trades. Don’t drag my husband’s good name down with yours now, y'hear?”

Ephram cackled to himself as he piled his long arms and big hands with the baked goods and pot of tea, getting it all arranged safely for the trip back to the living room. Freddie’s ‘good name’, of course, being in somewhat the same neighbourhood as Iann’s when it came to sly thievery and dabbling in the illicit and forbidden. “I’ll draw you a map for the smoothbirch after we have tea.”

“His good name, huh?” Iann repeated in mild amusement. He watched Freddie return with a tray of sandwiches, all of them neat and uniform, and what looked like a tiny bit of chicken. “Is that oh-so good name hyphenated by the way? I don’t know if I know. Like, like did you guys go for the whole Watts-Pettaline, or Pettaline-Watts name change thing?” He did nothing, letting Freddie and Ephram do all the to and fro since Iann at least knew how to read situations like this. Trying to 'be helpful’ could quickly become 'awkwardly getting in the way’ and everyone wanted to prevent that.

So Iann stayed with Ollie, grinning in anticipation at all the food being toted out. “We’re the lucky ones, huh? Don’t have to lift a finger,” he said to the familiar. “Thanks man,” Iann said to Freddie, sitting forward but still waiting until he got the green light to dig in. “It looks amazing. If this is high tea then no wonder we only haul it out for special occasions at the Inn. And no wonder it’s always sold out.”

Freddie chuckled along at the idea of his 'good name’, following Ephram back to the living room with the pot of steeping darjeeling, and making sure everything - including plates, cups and cutlery - was accounted for before finally sitting down himself to answer his friend’s question. “No officially, no. I’m still Watts and he’s still Pettaline - but we do use the hyphen amongst ourselves sometimes. Just for fun.” He waved a hand at the spread laid out before them. “Eat up, everyone - and thank-you, darling for the compliment. You’re right though - high tea is a pain in the arse and that’s why we only do it every so often. Chef would have my guts for garters if I foisted it off onto her every week.”

“Pettaline-Watts, is the going version.” Ephram efficiently harvested at least one of each food item onto his plate and devoured a finger sandwich or two before adding, “–it sounds nicer that way, cadence-wise.” The quail put Ephram in mind of eggs, and he bounced slightly in his seat, saying, “Oh! I can’t rightly recall who I told what plan to, about the Golden Fowl, but we’ll all go together this time, right? Freddie was saying that since the island is hidden with fae magic, all Otherworldish and stuff, then his fairy dust might be able to affect it. We might be able to help that atronach feller was stuck in stone on there, Iann, remember him?” Ephram shook his head dolefully. “So much bird shit.”

“No, I don’t remember him.” Iann replied, but his tone was conversational, like he cared less about the plight of the atronach than Ephram did, but was still amenable to locating the unfortunate fellow again. Iann was too occupied with his plate of sandwiches, looking at them with interest before trying them, then deciding which ones were his favourite so he could go back for more. “Oh really? Affect it how?”

Ephram, shocked that Iann didn’t remember the plight of the frozen-stone atronach, subsided momentarily into a teacake and two cups of darjeeling.

“Well,” Freddie said, giving a bit of a shrug and glancing at his handsome husband for both encouragement, and just the sheer pleasure of looking at him, “-I’m not entirely sure. But being that this island sounds to be an Otherworld outpost, or pocket dimension, and fairies are infinitely more powerful in the Otherworld, I thought maybe that might make a difference. Plus, Ephram told me that you can’t carry more than one bird over the bridge, but I can fly so that seems like a bit of a loophole in and of itself.”

Iann paused with a partially consumed sandwich in front of his open mouth. “Holy shit,” he said, then crammed the sandwich in his mouth and tucked it into his cheek as he spoke. “We could totally try and fly some of those chickens out of there! We could fly like five of them. They probably need to be culled anyway. Not like they got any natural predators on that special little island of theirs. Unless that island exists in another dimension that’s accessible by other fae-kind who happen to like a bit of KFC.” Iann grinned. “Alright - we’ll try and take chickens and eggs. And that help out that atronach fellow as well, sure.”

Ephram crammed in the rest of his cake and swallowed it down with tea, sitting back a little to slow down in eating now that he’d sampled enough to start filling his belly. “Carefully, though,” he admonished the other two, looking between them, their alert, clever faces. He’d had moments of envy when it came to how Freddie and Iann worked together so well – he’d be lying if he said he was never jealous – but when it came down to it, Ephram liked the idea of them. As friends, as business partners; it could get lonely for people of a certain temperament if there was nobody else around who could keep up, engage, lob ideas back. They could get carried away on the shining brightness of their ideas, though, which was why Ephram felt it his duty to say, “We can try with the eggs and chickens and flying, but the very minute it seems like it might be going south, we drop everything and get the hell outta Dodge. Otherworld Dodge Island. Whatever.”

Freddie leaned over and kissed the corner of his husband’s mouth tenderly, laying a hand over his witch’s heart. “Carefully,” he promised, “No foolish risks taken, love. I guarantee it.”

Iann smirked and tried the chicken nugget, which turned out not to be chicken but some other sort of fowl. Whatever, it tasted good and Iann always ate whatever Freddie put down in front of him. Pettaline getting all cautious made Iann smirk (not at the fowl nugget) because Iann didn’t balk at efforts of authority. He rather liked it because either he could just go along with it if it suited him, or skirt around it if it didn’t. But regardless of whether or not he chose to listen (depending on the situation) Iann always appreciated when someone could be a Voice of Reason. It wasn’t easy to take that role in a world full of wannabe rebels and anarchy-geeks.

“Honestly - has anyone ever seen this guy do anything that could even be within the realm of 'foolish’? But I see what’s going on, uh-huh. 'Foolish’ to rhyme with 'Cardero’, okay, mm-hm, yeah, I’m onto you two. Think you’re subtle, huh. I’ll behave.” Iann reached out to get one of the scone-looking things. “Oh I like this.”

Freddie set the clotted cream and strawberry jam in front of Iann. “Oh, that finger wag was as much at me as it was at you, love,” the fairy chuckled to his partner, and then squeezed his husband’s knee. “But I mean it, sweetheart, I won’t push my luck, hm? None of us will.” Freddie paused for a moment, looking from Ephram to Iann and back again, then said, “Now speaking of luck - namely mine, as I’ve got you both here, getting on like a house on fire - what do I have to thank for this little miracle? I mean, really, yeah? Because this is lovely.” He chuckled again. “Even if I have to admit that I’m waiting for the other shoe to drop a bit.”

“Oh right–” Iann said, reminded by the jam and cream that the scone-things were matched with the spreads. He opened one up and slathered one half with both. When he bit it, cream and jam wet his moustache as well, but Iann mopped his face with his cloth napkin, replying blithely. “Yeah well, it’s not as miraculous as you think. Pettaline showed up at Stonefruit and we talked shit over and then I made him invite me for a snack. But this is a fucking feast, which is even better.” As for the other shoe, Iann shrugged and looked over at Ephram. “No hidden shoe coming from me. I won’t even put them up on the couch, promise.”

Ephram sipped at his tea demurely, feeling very satisfied with his and Iann’s efforts so far. “Ain’t no other shoe, Freddie, come on now,” he said, voice low and warm even through the scolding. “Can’t a couple of fellers decide it’s high time to work through whatever bad business has gone on in the past?”

He looked back at Iann as the other man turned his glance over at Ephram. “Especially when said bad business wasn’t actually neither of us doing the other one wrong.” Anaxis, possession, branding, metuo sanguis – a morass of horrible things, but nothing that either of them was at fault for. Just uncomfortable associations that got tied to the other one. “I mean, I like it being called a lil miracle, though. But obviously that’s something Iann and me was never gonna agree on, heh.”

Iann nodded, consuming the other half of the scone as he pointed towards Ephram as the witch talked. “Agreed, all of that. That fucking demon,” Iann grunted and then took a gulp of tea. He didn’t really think there was much to elaborate, since he’d explained this before to Freddie, and Ephram already understood. So repeating that refrain would be redundant.

“Also agreed on the lil miracle thing,” Iann smirked, waving towards Ephram to indicate that Ephram was welcome to claim the title - and far more deserving of being considered a 'lil miracle’, all things considered. “That Cinquefoil really upped the ante, I guess.”

Freddie smiled and held up his hands as an act of concession, happy to be wrong in this instance. “Alright, alright,” he chuckled, “-you’ve both made your point. And you’re right - there’s no reason the two of you shouldn’t be able to clean the slate and move forward.” He smiled again, giving a gracious nod. “I’m sorry for doubting you. I’m just glad we’re here, is all. So from here on out, I’m just going to shut up and enjoy it.” He turned to Iann and said sincerely, “I’m glad you’re here.” And then he turned to his husband and took his hand, kissing Ephram’s knuckles, “And I’m glad you invited him.”

Freddie laughed. “It’ll just take a bit of getting used to; that’s all.”

Ephram pushed his knuckles gently against Freddie’s chin, scrubbing them into the growth of beard there. “Don’t shut up and enjoy anything!” he protested. “Or at least don’t shut up, you need to enjoy this vocally. Plenty of talking, Freddie, you know you can hold your own against Iann and me.”

Ephram was very pleased indeed that Iann was being gracious about the whole miracle aspect of it, saying, “Well, now – you laid the groundwork for the Cinquefoil your own self, Iann, can’t forget that.” Ephram took Freddie’s hand, turning it over to show the prettified markings there that had replaced the ugly scorched brand that the demon had caused, oh so long ago. “God, sometimes it seems fuckin’ unreal, what we went through.”

Iann stayed quiet, more than content to watch Pettaline protest to Freddie, in a clearly comfortable way for them both and therefore very comforting to Iann. He didn’t begrudge their relationship, far from it. Iann had known for a long time that the pair benefitted each other continually and why would he try to dissuade his friend from anything so completely good? Rare and special as 'good’ could be for individual people? Yet still, Iann knew he’d still managed to bungle it all up. “Sure, sure. I understand that I’m the one on probation here,” Iann said with a wry smile, as he leaned back and extended his arm across the back of the seat (after wiping is hands clean first). “So take as much time as you need, and, ah, I’ll keep trying to improve myself.”

He waved aside Ephram’s words. The witch was generous to say it; but then Iann considered Ephram an overly-generous man, particularly to people who didn’t always quite deserve that generousity, like Iann himself. He didn’t want to take any credit where it wasn’t due.

He looked down at Freddie’s hand, as Ephram displayed his palm, face getting grimmer. “What we went through,” Iann repeated, and then pointed three splayed fingers at Freddie, Ollie, and Ephram. “What you three went through.” Despite the clear cheery afternoon tea, Iann had no compunctions with bringing up such an old grim topic. They’d never all actually debriefed together before, after all.

#freddiewatts #ianncardero #th: tea jam bread #//cut solely for length!#//no need to cut subsequent replies #//<3

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shadowfaxes · 4 years ago

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I'm posting this here because I don't really have anywhere else to say it. I miss horses so badly. I miss riding. I miss the quiet moments of grooming and grazing and just being around them. It scares me that people may see that I've quit riding and think it's because I fell out of love with it and with horses when that could not be less accurate. I quit riding BECAUSE of how much I love horses. I finally forced myself to reckon with the cognitive dissonance of having a strong animal rights position but also riding. I don't think it's a black and white issue but I simply can't participate in that culture anymore - a culture that sees horses as playthings, as tools in pursuit of recreation. Of course, I never thought of them that way. I started riding as a tiny kid and I always, always, always cared about the horses more than the riding. But so many people DO think of it that way and I can't... be complicit in that. Even just the idea that if a horse is acting up, you throw on a harsher bit, that you should use draw reins if you want your fat horse that you haven't worked in months to immediately be forced into a frame... People that genuinely love their horses do this stuff and I can't, can't, can't - WON'T - participate in it. And so this has left me on the outside of a world that was once my safe haven. I miss horses with all of my heart, but I miss the friendships, I miss going to shows, I miss spending dawn to dusk at the barn. Not only that, I was a good rider, especially with the troublesome horses, and a calm and effective handler; I taught riding lessons and worked as a groom and exercise rider. I lost something that made me feel confident and fulfilled.

I knew I needed to direct that energy somewhere, so I started working with shelter dogs. Some of the skills are transferable - the patience, the core ideas behind training. And in some ways, I actually like working with the dogs more. I feel like I'm actively fulfilling a need instead of just doing something for my own enjoyment. I'm actively making their lives better instead of forcing an animal to do something it may not want to do just because I want it. But I know horses so, so well. I'm good with the dogs and getting better all the time, but I don't know that I'll ever have the innate understanding of them that I do of horses. And thus, it's harder for me than horses ever were. Horses are so natural for me, such an innate understanding and rewarding relationship. I don't know that anything could ever compare to that.

I'm housesitting for someone I used to ride with, so this stuff is very present for me. How do I explain to her that I quit riding because I have ethical issues with it? How do I say to someone that I love and respect that I think that riding is inherently problematic? Especially when losing it has caused me this much anguish? I don't know the answers. I don't know that I ever will. I guess all I can really do at this point is keep pouring myself into the dogs and seek out horse time when I can get it.

#personal #sorry i had to say this somewhere

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blodreina-noumou · 5 years ago

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here’s some latenight shitposting for you (general content warning for drug abuse (marijuana, and remember I’m 27):

the first time I watched s3, I was housesitting for a friend. weed had recently been legalized in my state, and I was alone. the friend had left me some weed in exchange for watching her house and taking care of her dogs. I went way overboard, I won’t elaborate, I ain’t that stoner, but I was much higher than I ever should have been by myself. I was fine, though, because s3 was incredibly entertaining to me at that point.

I’m watching 3x04, high as hell, and it gets to the moment where the singer is performing in Trigedasleng. I’m head over heels for the conlang at this point, so I’m completely enthralled. this absolutely incorrect thought occurs to me, blinding me with its truth in clarity in that way that only happens when you’re stupidly stoned:

“wow.......they did every single song in this show..........in Trigedasleng”

I don’t think I need to remind y’all that only like 2% of this show’s soundtrack is in Trig, and they were original songs.

for a full 3 hours, I was convinced that every single one of those moments, from “Radioactive” to “A Thousand Eyes” had been recorded for the show in Trig, like Simlish songs in The Sims

#stephspeaks #shitposting #embarrassing things #trigedasleng

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evverest · 6 years ago

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tw death, parental loss, suicidal thoughts, just really triggering shit i'm sorry i don't know how to use read mores on mobile

i have had an exhausting week. every bone in my body and every part of my sick brain is ready to be done. i'm not done. the coming week very well may be harder.

and it's not about me. i know it isn't, but i'm going to talk about me because frankly i don't know what the fuck else to do and i'm a huge piece of shit.

my partner is going through the hardest thing he's ever been through (this feels like a safe assumption). it's definitely the hardest thing i've ever watched someone go through so closely. briefly: parental loss, or more specifically the events leading up to it.

i have floundered. been at a loss for words, comfort, or any fucking clue of what to do. i've cried a lot. the sheer magnitude of pain i watch him experience cuts straight to my core. i cry when he cries and i don't know how to stop that from happening. and aside from that, what the fuck am i supposed to do? i want to help. i want to ask him every two seconds what he needs from me at this particular moment because i want so desperately to help him but i don't ask because i know it's not helpful. i sit next to him in silence a lot. sometimes i apologize, or tell him i love him. it feels pathetic. i bring him coffee probably more than anything else. every morning i ask if he wants coffee and he says yes so i go buy us coffees. i don't know if he just says yes to give me something tangible to do. but he drinks it. i try to follow his cues. sometimes i can tell he needs space, or he'll tell me. i distract him. we've watched movies, played games, ran pointless errands. i feel useless. i have learned a lot about how to be a good partner, but i wasn't prepared for this. what the fuck prepares you for this?

there are two things that have made this entire thing somehow more difficult and complicated than it already was.

1. i had previously agreed to housesit for a coworker over the weekend. i have done this once before, and swore to my partner, therapist, and even this dumbass website that i would never do it again. because it fucking sucked. i was stuck in bed crying and making plans to kill myself for 2 days straight. i had panic attack after panic attack. it was traumatizing, and i barely understand why. but when i got asked to do it again, i didn't want to say no and god forbid disappointment someone a little bit so i said yes. the traumatizing part has been helped slightly by the fact that my partner has stayed at the house with me this time. mostly so he wouldn't be alone, but also i think in his mind a little bit for me. he knew what i was subjecting myself to. he knew him being here would help. the idea that he has been worrying about my wellbeing while going through what he's going through makes me sick. on the other hand, him staying here means there is no one living in our apartment. so i have jumped back and forth every day multiple times to take care of a grand total of 3 cats, 1 dog, 2 homes, and 1 boyfriend having the worst week of his life.

2. it was my birthday this weekend. as soon as we found out the news i wanted to write it off. i wanted to drop it entirely and forget about it. i didn't entirely realize that you can't really do that. the messages, the phone calls, the plans that were made by other people. not everything can be cancelled, and it sure as hell can't be forgotten. and he tried so hard it broke my heart. he went to breakfast with me. got coffee. even went horseback riding. and maybe he enjoyed parts of it. but there were parts where he was distant and sad and tearful and replying to the messages and phone calls got harder. i wanted to yell at people that it didn't fucking matter. i didn't do that. i put effort into having a good day. for my partner's sake, and for mine. but eventually he needed some time to himself so i went home and cried because i wished i never had to have a birthday ever again. i never want to watch someone carrying the weight of so much be forced to carry the weight of making some random fucking day feel special. it was another day where he faced the impending death of his dad. it wasn't fucking special.

my therapist isn't in town this week, of all weeks. my partner will leave for his hometown soon. i'm going back to work tomorrow. i want there to be a break. a moment where i feel useful, and in control of a situation, or like a good partner. there isn't.

i want the world to take it back. i want none of this to be real. my partner doesn't deserve this. his patience and kindness to me throughout this entire process has made me angry that anything this shitty could happen to him. i have to go to work tomorrow and pretend to fucking care. people will ask me about my birthday. i don't know what i'll tell them. i'm tired. i love my partner more than i know how to express. i want everything to be okay. and it won't be for a long time.

#tw death

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thestuckylibrary · 6 years ago

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Group Ask 48

What is a group ask?

Previous Group Asks

AO3 Search Tutorial

Please send us an ask stating which group ask and which person you are replying to. Thank you so much in advance!

Anon 1 said:

Hi! I can't find this one fix where Steve and Bucky had a relationship before the war, and when they find Bucky after TWS, Steve tries to kiss him but is pushed away. He's hurt but realizes Bucky only pushed him away because he thought it was still illegal and there is someone else in the room. Thank you so much!!!

jesseofthenorth said:

hi guys! Thanks for all your hard work here it has been invaluable! I am searching for a specific fic and have searched all the relevant tags I could find on A03, to no avail. The fic is post CAWS in which Bucky walks away from the triskellion and ends up being taken in by a woman named Tank who runs a squat. He ends up using heroin extensively for a good portion of the fic. I read it fairly recently but failed to bookmark. Thanks for and possible help

orchidsrule, steebadore, and Anon sent in there must have been a moment where we could have said no by magdaliny (complete | 154,616 | M) - heed the tags!

alex26stuff said:

I think tumblr ate my ask before, sorry. I'm looking for a modern au where the side pairing is Nat/Sam. Bucky's at Nat's house (He may have been housesitting or staying with her) and they see Sam dressed as a cop(I can't remember if he actually was or if it was halloween) and Nat's response is "f*** the police indeed."

rooonil-waazlib sent in you were standing there by thebrotherswinchester. the fic has been deleted.

Anon 2 said:

hi! I’ve been looking for a fic that I read a while ago and haven’t found it even though I went through (what I think were) some related tags. it was something along the lines of Bucky living with Steve and I think in the description he’d wake up and have good days, bad days, and then things like FUBAR days as the WS? or he’ll wake up and be the old Bucky anywhere from before the war, during, etc. might’ve been four parts if I remember correctly. I think it was actually part of a series

mochiriceball, claudia-flies, and kittenkakt sent in Cheesecake by cleo4u2 (complete | 19,379 | E)

Anon 3 said:

I put in an ask before, not sure if it got swallowed. But basically one of them gets kidnapped, and while they’re hostage they imagine that they’re at dinner with the other (whom they’re not yet in a relationship shop with) and at the dinner they notice rings and realize they’re married. And the other says something like “I’ll always be there for you” and the kidnapped one says “you’re not here now” and the other says “no, so you have to do it yourself”. Or something like that. Sorry! Vague...

Anon 4 said:

Hi! I'm looking for a Merman!Steve AU. (I already checked the tag here and on AO3). I know it's a series. Steve is a merman living onland. Tony sort of hires him for something and buys him a house. (No one knows he's a merman)All the Avengers cast move in (college au maybe?). Sam thinks he's an alien. It turns out Bucky is a reincarnation of someone Steve loved. He is the Third Bucky. The athor has a couple parts of "100 things they did" or some such. Help please? :)

slurmsmackenzie11 said:

Hi! I've been looking for this fic for awhile and I haven't been able to find it - I can only remember the one scene where Bucky (possibly after turning himself in post-Winter Soldier?) is taking a psychological test where the tester shows him a picture of a stick figure and a dog and asks him to come up with a story, and he tells a story of when the little girls at his training compound would run away and he would be sent to hunt them down. Thanks!

orchidsrule sent in Simple by Osidiano (WIP | 51,317 | E ) - past noncon; dubcon

Anon 5 said:

Hey! I’m looking for a fic and I have tried everything. I think it is newer, but all the ao3 searches I’ve done weren’t working. I know the title has something to do with cuddling. It’s Steve and Bucky laying in bed on a day off and end up having sex and they joke about Bucky’s “other” boyfriend. If you can help I would reallllly appreciate it!

Anon 6 said:

Hi, fic finder question if that's ok, ages ago I read a fic where Bucky or Steve gives Tony a phone to fix, and Tony chances upon a very racy video stored on the phone. Never found it again... does it sound familiar to anyone? Thanks!

rooonil-waazlib and lisa-in-the-sky said this is one of @ipoiledi‘s prompt fills.

letmetobe said: possible dub-con/rape

Sorry! I didn’t realize fanmail was the same as an ask. I’m looking for a fic where Natasha is Bucky’s adult child- I don’t think they know it at first? And Steve is, I believe, shoved into Bucky’s cell to mate with Winter Soldier. I can’t remember if it’s experimentation mpreg or a/b/o. Bucky refers to Natasha as spiderling? Also the escape from hydra is kinda epic. Sorry it’s so vague...

#group asks

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catenaries-and-dirigibles · 6 years ago

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i guess both my dogs are sleeping on my bed while i’m housesitting. i’d normally be fine with that but a moment ago they were sitting there and licking each other’s heads clean so loudly and earnestly that i had to reach out and just tuuuurn basil’s bed so they weren’t facing each other anymore. mercifully they gave up at that point.

#gross dogs #cw dogs being gross

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mangled-dreams · 7 years ago

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A Man with a Van

This is a second story for @destinggirl. She requested #14 of the first prompt list; “What are we doing this time?” “Want to see what kind of trouble we can get into?” “Oh, God, we’re going to die aren’t we?” “It’s Tuesday, I know how to restrain myself.” This one is a friendly Mark and reader with guest appearance from Ethan.

Man with a Van.

Sitting on your brother’s couch you wait for your movie to start back up. Commercials are the bane of your existence at this point in time. Due to…unexpected turns of event you’ve found yourself stranded in California for the better part of December. It’s not really something you’re complaining about, but you really had been expecting to see your cousin for her wedding instead of being left to watch your brother’s house while he goes to Japan.

You’re glad that your brother is able to take such an exotic trip, but you hadn’t exactly volunteered for babysitting duty. Thankfully your recent endeavor into the employment realm proved to be fruitless. At least, that’s what you’ve been telling anyone that asks. It’s less humiliating then saying you got fired from three retails stores in four months back home.

With a heavy sigh you stare at the remote just out of your reach then the TV again. Do you dare attempt to reach over and grab the remote? Or do you simply watch the cartoon movies currently play its opening scene. Decisions. Decisions.

After a few minutes you decide to grab the remote, turn off the TV, and take a shower. It’s about time you left the house and interacted with other human beings. You’ve been to your bother’s place a few times, watching the house on occasion, so it’s not like you don’t know the area.

It’s just interacting with people.

“Okay, Theo, I’m heading out.” You call to your brother’s Persian cat. He doesn’t even lift his head at his name and you take your leave. The cat doesn’t hate you, but he doesn’t like you either. Which, in you honest opinion, is okay.

Walking around in the bright sun light you take the sunglasses you’d bought before your brother left and slip them on. Somehow it feels off having to wear sunglasses in the dead of winter. You take in the manicured lawns and blossoming colorful flowers. It’s rather peaceful and you decide to put your ear bud headphones in and play a little bit of music to accompany you.

You walk for a few songs, pausing when cars drive down the street before deciding to turn around. As you spin around you literally crash into another person. You both tumble to the ground, trying to make sense of what just happened.

“Oh God, are you okay?” you ask quick to scramble off the young man beneath you. You barely get a glimpse before brushing yourself off, but he looks familiar.

“Yeah, are you? Sorry, I was running after my dog. She got loose.” He responds looking around for said dog. You glance around too.

“Your dog? I didn’t see a dog around here. Are you sure…” You pause when you spot a wagging pale yellow tail just behind the man. Sticking your index finger and thumb into your mouth, you form a circle and whistle loudly, watching the dog’s head perk up. She looks at you a moment before running full speed to you and her owner.

“Wow, that’s impressive.” He tells you grabbing ahold of his dog’s collar and slips the leash on.

“Thanks, back home we have a dog going deaf. I’m the only one that can whistle loud enough to get him to come in.” you say taking a good look at the dog and owner. He is quite attractive, short dark down hair, dark brown eyes, and pale olive skin you wonder if he’s seen sunlight much. And he wears glasses! Oh how you have a weakness against guys with glasses.

“Again, very impressive.” He tells you smiling at you. You can’t help feeling perplexed by his features. Even his voice is familiar to you.

“Do I know you from somewhere? I fee like we’ve meet before.” You say feeling like a sleazy guy trying to pick up someone in a bar. “I’m not trying to hit on you, I just… ah. You look really familiar and it’s bothering me because I don’t know where I’ve seen you from.” You quickly explain feeling even more like an idiot.

He laughs at you, his tone relaying his amusement at your actions more than being rude. “It’s okay. I actually get that a lot, but you’re housesitting for Billy and Thomas, aren’t you?” he asks earning a suspicious look from you.

“Y-yes… how did you know?” you ask deciding to be a little more tightlipped. It’s not that you don’t trust him, but even a baby face like his can hide insidious intentions.

“They told me. When I go out of town they watch Chica for me so I don’t have to put her in a daycare.” He says smiling cheerfully. “They asked that I stop by from time to time to check in on you. You’re Y/n, Billy’s younger sister, right?” he asks and your guards relax a little.

“Oh, wait! Billy said there was someone that would stop by to make sure I didn’t die.” You say feeling a little more at ease. He laughs with you.

“I’m Mark; I live down the street a few houses.” Mark introduces himself, holding out his hand to you. You smile and take it, shaking it twice before letting it drop. You don’t know why it’s so bothering, but you know you’ve seen him somewhere before.

“Have we met before? You really do look oddly familiar.” You push. “How long have you been living around this area?” you follow up with.

“I don’t think we’ve met before, but I’ve been here about a year. I’ve seen your photos in your brother’s house, but I don’t think we’ve met face to face before. Not to sound conceded, but do you watch YouTube?” he responds. You shrug.

“I don’t not watch it. I just mainly use it for music and learning to crochet and things. Are you a YouTuber?” You ask raising a brow at Mark.

“Yeah, my user name is Markiplier. I do a lot of Let’s Play and some comedy sketches.” Mark tells you. Chic whines at his side before pushing her nose against your hand. You smile at her and give her a few good scratches behind her ears.

“Cool. I hear you can make a good living doing that. Pretty successful I take it?” you ask idly petting Chica at your side.

“I like to think so. I have a kind of sketch comedy tour set up. We’re going around the states before going international for a few months.” You raise your brows at him and nod your head impressed by his success.

“Wow, that’s amazing. Are you happy?” You ask. It’s normal question for you to ask people that are quite successful in their profession. There’s no point in doing something if you’re not the least bit happy with your success.

“It’s a little stressful at time, but yeah, I’m happy. We start the tour shortly after New Year.” Mark tells you.

You nod still quite impressed at what he’s accomplished. You’d remembered hearing a few friends, and younger cousins, talk about YouTube stars they enjoyed. “You’re not much older than me, are you? What? Like twenty-eight?” You ask. Chica pulls away and walks back over to Mark for attention. You frown at the golden hair pooch. “I thought we had a connection!” You moan at Chica. She looks at you with her big brown eyes. “Oh, you wound me Chica.” You mutter looking away from the beauty.

Mark laughs at your antics. “Yeah, a round twenty-eight.” Mark pauses for a moment. “A-are you doing anything tonight? For dinner I mean.” Mark asks almost nervously.

You shrug. “I’m not the best cook, so I thought I’d pop down the Mc D’s or something and get some grease to fill my stomach.” You eye him. “Why do you ask?”

It’s Mark’s turn to shrug his shoulders. “I’m supposed to meet a few friends for dinner, and since your relatively new to the area I thought I’d see if you want to go with me.” Mark asks. You mull over the proposal. It would be nice to see where else you can get too for food.

“What kind of food?” You ask agreeing in your own way to go to dinner together. Mark smiles at you.

“It’s really delicious,” Mark reassures you with a smile you feel instantly drawn too.

“I thought you said it was going to be delicious, not repulsive.” You groan as your meal is place in front of you. You knew you should have turned around and left once it became clear this was a… how should you put it, fan service place. The décor is quite enjoyable.

Comic book pages are pasted to the tops of wooden tables with glass covering them for protection. Large life size cutout of various comic, cartoon, and anime characters line the walls tastefully. It’s like a nerd’s version of heaven… your version of heaven, you correct yourself.

However the food before you does not reflect that heaven.

“It’s good, just give it a try.” Mark tells you encouragingly. You give him a skeptical look and glance down at your food. It’s a stew you’d always thought would be pretty delicious, but looking at it now… You’re glad you have a steel stomach.

“I felt the same way when I first got that. The WestFall stew is quite delicious. It just looks a little hard to stomach.” Mark’s friend Ethan tells you. You give him the same skeptical look before picking up your spoon and give the bowl a stir.

You glance at Mark, he’s already digging into some kind of fried shrimp dish and whisper, “If I get sick from this I’m going to egg your house.”

Mark nearly chokes on his shrimp, laughing when he should be swallowing. You panic for a moment before he coughs, takes a drink of his water, and tells you, “That’s fair.”

“Whoa, don’t kill of the leading man before his big tour.” Alex, another friend of Mark chuckles from across the table.

“So, who all joins Mark in his endeavors?” You ask scooping a small spoon full of soup, carrots, meat, and what looks like mushroom spores. God this better not kill you.

“That would be just about all of us.” Ethan says as you force yourself to eat what is sitting in your spoon. You munch hesitantly as Ethan continues on. “Originally we had a few others planning to go, but they had to bail last minute. Tyler and I will be doing a few sketches with Mark and a few others like Wade and Bob. We all have our own little spot lights but the majority of the tour will be all of us just being jackasses.”

Okay, so the stew isn’t that bad. The mushroom spore things are quite delicious. Taking another spoonful, this time quite a bit larger you listen to the conversation flow around you. You interject and add but for the most part it feels nice to relax and enjoy some good—if not disturbing looking food.

This is the most peace you’ve known in quite a while.

It’s knocking at 6 o’clock in the morning that disturbs your slumber. You curse whoever is knocking on your door knowing what time it is. Granted you’d been waking up at a more socially appropriate time.

Dragging yourself down the stairs you pass a few mirrors and ignore your appearance and throw open the door less than pleased to see Mark’s smiling face on the other side. “I will kill you if this is not an emergency.” You growl at him and notice Ethan behind him with a camera pointed at you. “What are you two doing?” You groan kind of wishing you’d stopped to at least fix your hair…or even to put pants on.

“Put pants on! We’re taking a trip!” Mark tells you in a tone that sounds slightly crazy. You glare at him then to Ethan.

“What? I don’t want to go on a trip with you, Mark, or you… Seriously, what is going on?” you ask ready to slam the door on Mark and Ethan.

“Did you not remember you were going to do a video with me today?” Mark asks breaking character. You frown.

“No?” you respond as a conversation for three days ago finally connects everything. “Wait…you never said we’d be starting at 6 in the fucking morning! God, why didn’t you call or something to see if I was awake?” You ask glaring at Mark again. He’s smiling the dorky smile that makes you want to be his friend all over again.

“This would have made the video a bit more genuine.” Ethan pipes up. “But really, you should get some pants on. People are walking their dogs out here.” He adds smirking at you. You glare at him and close the door loudly.

“Are you saying no?” Mark shouts through the door.

“No, I’m getting clothes on!” you shout back and hurry up the stairs to your bed room. It only takes you a few minutes to change and get your morning routine taken care of, but you draw it out a little longer just to make the pair wait. Grabbing a yogurt cup and some granola you head out the door to find the pair talking on the front porch.

“Wait! Ethan get back in your spot. Okay, Y/n close the door and open after I say, “huh? Guess they’re not coming.” Got it?” Mark directs as you roll your eyes and close your door on him again. You can’t help your smile and wait for Mark to mutter his lines.

You’re giggling by the time he’s finally in character and have to compose yourself as he says lines. You spare a few seconds to eat your mixture of strawberry yogurt and vanilla crumbled granola cereal. Letting your spoon simply hang out of your mouth you open the door to a slightly surprised Mark before he starts to laugh.

“What?” You ask taking the spoon out of your mouth. “You didn’t give me time to eat my breakfast.” You offer innocently.

Mark quickly composes himself and quickly takes off pass Ethan. He shouts for you to follow and after exchanging worried glances with the camera and follow after Mark. You’ve never filmed anything before, so this is going to be interesting.

Mark laughs manically in the driver’s seat and you look back at Ethan and the camera then to Mark again. You have your lines to say and thankfully you’re not doing too bad.

“Mark… Ah, what are we doing this time?” You ask a little hesitantly even as you want to laugh your ass off at the look on his face.

“Want to see what kind of trouble we can get into?” Mark asks with a look in his eyes that’s a bit too convincing.

You look at the road a head of you, there is a green screen before you and the lovely white van is on a small platform that will simulate that it’s moving. Even with the van on idle you don’t quite trust Mark in this moment. “Oh, god, we’re going to die aren’t we?” you ask looking back to Ethan and his camera again. He shakes the camera to simulate confusion.

“It’s a Tuesday, I know how to restrain myself.” Mark responds and you give him a wide eyed look.

“Is Saturday!” you shout as he presses on the gas. The van’s engine reeves in your ears.

“My point exactly!” Mark shouts. Holding his pose a few more seconds before he breaks character and laughs. You and Ethan laugh along with him. You have no idea how that’s all going to fit together but it was really fun to do.

“Mark, you are really selling the crazy guy very well.” Ethan remarks from the back seat. You nod in agreement. Mark smiles and looks at the pair of you in turn.

“You guys did great. I have a few more shots to make but this was fun. Y/n, I’ll take you back home and get in touch with you in a few hours. Ethan and I are going to go through the video and see if there is anything else we need from you. Thanks for your help, by the way.” Mark says.

Everyone exits the van and the tech that helped you set up helps break everything down and gets the van on the pavement again. You’d already taped everything that Mark needed from you at various other locations. This had been the last scene he’d needed you for.

Marks texts you later and says he doesn’t need you for any reshoots and will forward a sneak peek to you once their done with the editing. You tell him you’ll look for the email and go make yourself dinner. If you had plans to stay in Cali, you’d definitely like to do more sketches with Mark and Ethan. It was quite a lot of fun and the process itself was fascinating.

Maybe you need a change of scenery and start a new chapter in your life. You’ll talk to Mark tomorrow about that. For right now you want food.

#platonic #mark fischbach #making a vid #in a van #reader insert #ethan nestor #funny #goofy mark #mark's van #weirdo in a van-o

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allthatwehear · 4 years ago

Text

for the archives

I know that 2020 was a bad year for us all (at least, presumably), and I’m not kidding when I say that on December 31st, 2019, something dropped in the pit of my stomach, and I felt deeply afraid of what was to come.

I’d spent new years by myself in the big, hill-top, slightly raggedy house I’d been living in all summer. There were talks of venturing to the snow-clad cabin for new years with some school friends, but I couldn’t get work off.

It started poorly, and it certainly ended poorly. But the nagging sensation carried into the New Year. And I mean this wasn’t just like a “since I had a bad New Year’s Eve it’s going to be a bad year” type of feeling. This was like, a total wave of darkness; like that night I was in the house and all the lights were off, and I was stumbling around blind, hands outstretched, wondering why I felt such doom and complete and total fear. Waiting for the light to be flicked back on but it stayed dark the whole year. The whole year.

There was a similar instinct amongst my family the evening-prior to when my first sis died. I do believe there is something somewhat biological, animalistic about us humans – these psychic, predictive washings that come over us.

Regardless - I’ve been learning to listen to myself. Because, since that New Years I have been uncharacteristically predictive; my senses are so keen. Since I have taught myself to listen, I know now when there is a situation that is bad for me. I can feel it. I can.

And I felt it, that night, into the day. Nineteen days into the new year, I was on my first flight home from Seattle to Colorado, to see my oldest sibling in the hospital. Their tumor (Juge goes by they/them) had grown significantly. It was causing head aches, dizziness, weakness. Radiation wasn’t working. Something wasn’t working anymore.

I am sitting on my bed in a beautiful room with a sliding glass door, palm trees swaying outside. There’s rain coming and I can smell it in my room. I just moved to California. I mean i packed my car in a little over 40 minutes, and drove to southern California, to move in with my mom and her husband Daniel. And as I am in this place of unfamiliar peace & surroundings of love -- I mean, Seattle fucking pushed me out -- a year later, after Juge’s death, and I’m coming to process what happened to me.

here is my process, if you would like to read it. i dunno why you people like to, sometimes. you’ve got me thinking about writing a book about grief, or maybe my experiences. but that seems like freaking dog poop, who would read that -- lol.

i’ve been staring at my eyes in my twin mirrors in this foreign, new bedroom -- it’s all rushing back -- almost like i’m living it all over again because i hadn’t yet had a moment to let it all wash over me -- all.

woosh.

now that i am not in survival mode (ask me why seattle was harsh, i’ll tell you.) it feels like I am again -- sleeping on that blow up bed in maddie (my other sister’s) office room. I am again walking the white halls of the hospital. I’m sitting on Juge’s plush bed, making Juge laugh. I liked to do that, because humor is sometimes the only thing I know how to do, when Juge is sitting there, looking so sick. they were easy to make laugh, too. and their laugh -- oh, so sweet. high-pitched and cute; their eyes crinkle up like mine do: mine and juge’s “eyes smile” when we smile.

at this time last year, i was flying back and forth to the hospital (during school, in-person school, yeah,) I was flying with my head down on the airplane, nudged in between two people and unable to have the freedom to cry, so all I could do was hide my face. wait for the nightmare to be over. numbly listen to mom talk & answer my questions in the car ride “home”. to be honest, it already felt like i was being driven to a funeral and juge hadn’t died yet. to be honest, I wish that maybe I was. I wished that I was just being driven to the end of it all, not have to go through the visible/death part of it all.

Post-Death

my best school friend from Seattle wouldn’t talk to me on my birthday. I was told I was having emotional breakdowns “an unreasonably frequent amount of times” (don’t worry this person is blocked on instagram -- now -- ) by another. and once housesitting, I stared into an empty sink with a knife near my wrist -- for an entire day, just staring.

I lost so many people. so so, so so many. it wasn’t just juge. it was friends, who made pivotal imprints on my time in Seattle; so much so that being there feels like a stomach ache, a place I had to learn to “reclaim” and quickly (and yet for survival) create my own personal associations. “rewrite history” -- the history of betrayals, and deep harms.

how can one person endure so much loss? I ask myself that every. fucking. day.

I don’t know why you left me, if you’re reading this. maybe my situation scared you. but I hope you do know that leaving someone when they just lost someone, if you were a friend of mine, is not quite fathomable. and i hope that if you were ever given the choice -- if you reincarnated, built a time machine and went back, you’d change your mind and do it differently. if you find that one of your own -- well, i used to be one of your own -- if you find that someone in your life loses someone soon, i hope that you will stand by them. that’s all I’ll say in that regard. but i wish you never left.

it’s flooding back to me. i’m reading old journal entries and they’re an old Sarah saying “how are you still alive?!”. i guess i moved to california and i’m looking to put those old pieces back together.

but the stabs -- the stab wounds are still there. and they’re blaring into my eyes like a bright sun (eyelids, red) and though they’re shut tightly I still see visions, imprints, moments of ordering a quesadilla at the hospital but that was the last thing I ate before Juge died; of actually sitting down, politely, at a table at a coffee shop right after the phone call with my mom that “you gotta come home” and did homework; flashbacks of... oh my god, did this happen to me...? did i really go through this, last year...?

oh yeah. i did.

you lose so much more than the person you lost. you lose your mind. you lose your energy. you lose your memory & your ability to navigate your life. you lose parts of yourself that you loved. you lose friends. you lose family. you don’t actually just lose the person. there is a lot tangled into grief.

and i’ve learned that you very quickly get used to losing things.

I guess i process when i move. i’ve been dancing a lot. i’ve been processing with some really beautiful, really wise, really incredibly wicked friends who I am blessed to have are quite a few years older than me -- i’d say this is helpful for me though, at least where i am mentally (or where grief takes you to mentally, sometimes). i’ve been processing through meditation. i’ve been allowing myself to invest in new parts; let the old rust and slow their gears, and the new... is exciting. she is different, but she is becoming *whole*.

i’m learning that walking away is easier and attachments are meant to be lost sometimes and literally every single person in this universe has something so deep and treasuring to teach you in life -- oh, it is lovely. i cannot express my gratitude for the things i have learned from gorgeous, stellar social-justice fighting, art loving, delightful, supportive, accepting loves who god !!!!!! somebody gave me to meet; to cup chin and say “you’re worth it, you’re worth it, my dear”.

i have found new purpose and meaning for life. and that is literally, that sometimes life doesn’t have meaning.

this is she. she living in california. signing off.

(if you are struggling with grief, in any form, there is an amazing account that’s brought me a lot of comfort. @griefuncovered and @grief.is.a.river are lovely.)

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