#not that I’m necessarily suprised

[tizeline]

Eueueue these two :>

Tried out a slightly different shading style this time, no idea if I like it or not

[ifeelfreewithoutmyshoes]

Another queer flatmate!

[reds-writings]

souls further entwined

(pairing: rust cohle x fem!reader)

a/n: finally an update for these two! sorry to keep you waiting! I've got a lot of life changes in the works so updates might come a little slower over the next few months depending but i hope this tides y'all over for a bit! this takes place sometime after if only tonight we could sleep

word count: roughly 2.5k

warnings: (PLEASE LOOK BEFORE CONTINUING) discussions of abortion, child loss, forced/unsafe medical procedures, bad family situations, angst angst, cursing, semi-not-so-smut at the end, minors avert your gaze or else!!

The hidden gem of a restaurant that Rust had brought you to somewhere in the French Quarter was rather nice with its live jazz band playing in the corner and lavish decor. The tinkering of silverware layered on top of the low rumblings of fellow diners did what it could to fill the void of silence that had long settled between you and the man sitting adjacent. He had spontaneously asked you– well more like told you to go out with him tonight. Something about wanting to do things right once and for all after all this tiptoeing around.  The whole notion had taken you off guard, admittedly.

You’d been buzzing so bright leading up to tonight that you could've probably put a lightning bug to shame. He’d asked you on a real date. A step forward from the semi-clandestine meetings you’d both been settling on for far too long now. It was unlike him to outwardly admit to much but you doubted it was a wide occurrence that he’d take a girl on a date just because he was bored. This had meaning.

With that thought swirling in mind, you’d found your best dress and took what constituted as way too long of a pampering shower to best prepare for a promising night out with the man you'd become so deeply enamored with. It wasn’t often you got to get all prettied up for some fun given that work always managed to swallow you whole. 

God you’d been so excited. 

From the time you’d gotten into Rust’s Ford up until you’d sat down to eat he had yet to utter a single word to you. Hell, he’d hardly even managed to look at you either and it was starting to cause a distasteful rock that went by the name of dread to sink lower and lower in your gut. 

Dexterous fingers stayed picking at the table cloth as a form of lengthy distraction and you fought the bubbling urge to snatch his hand and demand what gives. It wasn’t hard to miss the anxiety bleeding from his form with those tense shoulders and that telltale faraway look in his eyes. You didn’t want to continue the cycle of jumping to conclusions when it came to the routine lack of forthcoming involving his more vulnerable thoughts out of insecurity so you bit the bullet,

“Y’know…usually on a date there’s a bit more talkin;. Maybe startin’ with questions like ‘what’s your favorite color’-- it’s blue by the way, or ‘where’d you get that lovely dress’. Could also do with lookin’ a little less green in the gills.”

That got him to stop fidgeting but a response was not yet prompted. You sighed and looked down at the vibrant cloth napkin in your lap,

“If you’re startin’ to regret this we can just forget about it and head back-”

“I don’t know if I can be what you need.” He all but blurted and it had your head shooting back up in suprise.

“What do you mean?”

“I can’t…I don’t find myself being suited for marriage like before. I can’t give you kids because I don’t think it’s right-”

“Wait a minute just-...slow your roll for a second.” Your mind was going a mile a minute at his frank outburst and you were having trouble pinpointing just where it all came from. 

“First of all, I don’t necessarily need the promise of marriage to feel fulfilled. I’m about to hit 30 soon enough and I’ve supplied plenty for myself that I'm not sure some flimsy marriage papers can add on to. I’m not just sayin’ all this to make you feel better either so don’t go down that route.” You were tenderly stern in your delivery to make sure what you were saying was actually sticking without sounding offended.

All he could give was a slight nod as the tip of his thumb came to his mouth: a nervous tic.

“Secondly…” You cleared your throat slightly and gave yourself a moment of pause. The latter concern wasn’t that of an easy subject. For either of you. Besides your family and probably Marty, not many knew of your reality when it came to the idea of starting a family. 

“I can’t have children. So that wouldn’t even be on the table to begin with I suppose.” 

That seemed to stun Rust. His expression working out how, what, and when this came to be. You cleared your throat again. Talking about it was never easy no matter how much time passed.

“The gist of it is…well I got knocked up when I was sixteen. Total accident, shocker. And um…my pa didn't approve. Not one bit, bein’ the respectable county figure he was as a seasoned lawyer n' all.” 

Your sinuses began to sting but you willed away any threat of tears as you tried to explain. Rust didn't say a word, his expression hardening minutely with a knowing sense of where this was headed.

“I didn’t wanna listen. I was scared of course but the boy I was foolin’ around with at the time was nice and had a family who wanted to be involved so that was enough for me. My uppity family could shove it for all I cared,” You scoffed wryly but continued, “But pa was adamant. He couldn’t have some little whore of daughter muckin’ things up but we were a church family so abortion was obviously out of the question. At least one would think that was the case,” 

“Long story short he dragged me to some back alley clinic where things would be kept under wraps. They fuckin’ botched it of course and made me sterile. Didn’t really know how bad it was until another loss and a visit with the doctor after trying with a serious boyfriend some time ago…” You shrugged as you fiddled with your unused silverware. You hadn’t spoken with your family since then. Letting you be mutilated for the sake of preserving a frivolous public image was a hard thing to let go of.

You remember how sick you were afterward. Infection from the procedure and a decent amount of blood loss, go figure. You only recall the house's maids nursing you back.

Your pa had never been able to look you in the eye again. Your mama just pretended nothing had ever happened the way it did.

Sometimes your mind had the habit of taking a dark turn every now and then, wondering if they would’ve felt any remorse if their forced course of action ended up actually killing you. With a selfishness like they had you couldn't help but doubt it. 

They had always taken more pride in your sister anyway. 

“So yeah…you don’t have to worry about the possibility of kids when it comes to me. It’s not like with our line of work it’d be much of a good idea anyway. Marty’s a prime example I'd reckon.” Your laugh was brittle in a weak attempt to lift the heavy weight you felt like you’d set over the mood. 

Rust’s large hand reached over to encase your shaking one to garner your attention. Looking up you weren’t met with pity or disgust, but with recognition. One shared in the experience of grief. Of having something meant to be so precious ripped from you in the cruelest of ways. He didn’t feel sorry for you. He understood you. More than anyone else had or could. 

“You’re enough for me, Rust. I don’t know if you’ve noticed by now but there’s not much you can do to send me runnin’ for the hills. I like you as you are and I don’t need more. I wouldn’t expect you to change your mind over somethin’ like that anyway. It just wouldn’t be fair to ask.” His eyes glazed over at your words and he had to let go of the troubled breath he’d been holding. He brought your hand to his lips and kept them there as an unspoken thank you. 

After a moment or two he set your hand back on the tabletop, still grasped in his. 

“How about we find some shitty dive and let loose over there. This place is startin’ to feel a lil’ too stuffy for me.” Your light-hearted jab made the corner of his lips quirk up before he nodded,

“Yes, ma'am.” 

—

After a relaxing drive accompanied by the tunes of Willie Nelson in search of a dive bar that was sufficient enough, the ice from all the worries of earlier had melted as fast as they had formed. The establishment you ended up coming across was a more than welcome change of pace compared to that of the restaurant (as lovely as it was). It wasn’t big by any means but there was room to dance and plenty of open spots to sit around and drink. 

You looped your arm through his and leaned into his side as you made your way to settle down. There wasn’t enough time or clarity earlier to truly appreciate just how good he looked for the occasion but now you had all the time in the world to shamelessly ogle.

He’d donned a black dress shirt, forgoing a tie and leaving a few buttons undone in a way that had you feeling dizzy, as well as a nice fitting pair of jeans that had plenty of passersby’s eyes glued to his shapely form.

“The ladies of Louisiana might just beat me up for a chance with you. If your face ain’t motivation enough your ass surely will be.” You nudged him and he shook his head mirthfully. 

“One would say jealousy is unbecoming.”

“Who said anythin’ about jealousy? I’ve earned my stake in claimin’ you as eye candy fair and square. They can try all they want but they were just too slow to the draw.”

“With your pension for being scrappy, I’d say they wouldn’t have much of a chance to begin with.” 

“Gee, is that the only reason they don’t stand a chance?” You quirked a brow. You knew the answer but pestering him to fess up hardly ever got you far. 

“What d’ya wanna drink, Miss Envy.” He drawled, not one to fall into your traps so easily and you flicked him with narrowed eyes.

“Last time I checked my name don’t even come close to rhymin’ with envy so you can quit with that.” 

The shithead just smirked.

“I’ll take a jack and coke. Now run along.” You waved him away and he just shook his head. In his short absence you’d found a high top and decided to claim as your territory for the night. The music was clearer over this way and your heart jumped at the beginning notes of Fleetwood Mac’s Beautiful Child.

Upon his return, Rust had hardly been able to set the drinks down before you were grabbing at him to park yourselves out on the dancefloor. A few other couples were swaying in place so you figured it wouldn’t be all that awkward to steal a moment for yourselves.

It was strange, being able to be so open in your affections without the curious eyes of Marty or anyone else from the precinct to make judgments. You could just be yourselves. It was a breath of fresh air after all this time.

As the song gained momentum, you wrapped your arms around his neck, toying with the hairs at his nape while his strong ones made home around your waist to pull you in closer. A small spark of pride lit up your chest at him being able to be this comfortable with you.

As you rested your head along the expanse of his chest you felt the feather-light stamp of his kiss at your crown. The tenderness of the simple act almost had you turning into one hell of a mush puddle. You settled on burrowing deeper if that were any more possible as Stevie sang on. Fighting the effect he had on you was always going to be a losing battle. 

You wouldn’t trade this moment for a damned thing. 

—

It was nearing almost three in the morning by the time you arrived back home. Your mind had been pleasantly warmed by the drinks and all the dancing. Rust even seemed to have a newfound glow to him and it was triggering something innately carnal in you. 

Taking an opportunity from the pocket of silence, you scooted along the Ford’s bench seat to make a place for yourself along his lap. 

The relaxed daze displayed across his features was something you’d never had the pleasure of seeing before. It was nothing like the faraway trance he’d trap himself in with all the pills and whatnot in fruitless efforts of chasing undisturbed sleep. No, this was true content. 

“I had a good time.” You didn’t mean to sound so coy but it couldn’t be helped as your hands crept up to frame his fine face.

“That’s good. I’m glad.” He hummed as he took in every feature your beautiful face had to offer. It was like striking gold. Especially in this expansive wasteland of a state.

“When we get a chance we should do it again. S’nice to go out…feel normal…” Hair lying in his line of light distracted you as you moved it out of the way with a gentle sweep. The truck’s cab could probably burst with the steadily increasing tension so you did what any normal woman would do with such a man in front of them and kissed him with all you had. 

It started out syrupy and languid as if you had all the time in the world to be out macking in the car like a pair of careless teenagers. Your skin hummed like a live wire at his sudden grasp on the plush fat of your hips which served as the green light to go further. 

Your delicate fingers carded through his soft waves as the muscle of his tongue took dominance over the kiss. A meek whimper cracked within your throat as you tried to keep up with what little oxygen you had remaining. When Rust kissed, it was all-consuming. It was no act he took passively when it came to you which had been made crystal clear to you by now. With each pass of his wet-hot caress, you could feel everything he wanted to say to you without complication of expression through words. 

His mouth traveled across the apple of your cheek down the expanse of your neck, nipping and sucking with such lax reverence it had you arching as if you could fuse your ribs with his. Souls to be permanently intertwined.

With a starting grind of your hips that your body had no willpower to control you could feel him hardening with each intensifying roll. His choked moan had you remembering where you were and you’d be damned if your first actual night with him was in this old, damned truck right outside your house. 

“D’ya wanna take this inside?” You offered in a breathless huff, trying to catch your breath in vain. You’re sure that even in the dark of the truck’s cabin the heat of your face could set the whole space aglow. He nipped at your bottom lip and soothed it with another peck,

“I would.”

The sudden tangle of limbs clambering to make haste towards the beacon of your front door would’ve been downright hysterical had you any hubris. 

a/n: sorry to blue ball you lmao. I HOPE THIS WASN'T CRINGE AHHHHH. i'll probably come back and edit this later. feedback is always appreciated!

[dadsbongos]

Hi! I was wondering if u write fic requests on minor characters? Holm from Dungeon Meshi is my fave character and it's saddening that there are only a few contents about him T^T (tho its understandable since he's, well, a minor character)

If it's okay w you, I wanna request a Holm x reader scenario where Holm introduces reader to his party as his partner, and everyone is suprised because they didn't expect a laid-back guy like him to be in a serious relationship with someone!

aaaa sorry if it's a bit short and bland I just want some fluffy imagines with the cute lil gnome ;-;

as long as i feel confident enough in my characterization of a character i'm more than happy to tackle minor characters!

holm is a lil cutie patootie so i get it anon

586 words / warnings - not super proofread ~~~

“Congratulations, big guy!” Mickbell claps Holm on the back, earning a startled flinch from the gnome.

“Thank you…” Holm sighs, choosing to ignore the rough jostling, “So as I saying, I finally bought a house. I’d really appreciate it if you all could come to dinner to celebrate.”

Daya scratches the back of her neck, lips pursing thoughtfully, “Can I bring my fiance?”

“Sure! It’ll be a great time for you all to finally meet my spouse as well.”

Kabru is first to respond, a despondent, broken, “wh-what…?” croaking out.

“You’re married?” Rin mutters, covering her twitchy mouth with a gloved hand and brows furrowing. If none of them knew her, they might think she was disgusted by the information.

Holm nods, “I never found the right time to bring it up, but now is perfect!”

“Married…” Kabru’s horrified, he had zero idea Holm was a taken man -- and he’d been meeting with the gnome’s sister often! Did she have no clue either? They weren’t the closest siblings, after all…

“See you all for dinner then?” Holm bypasses the man’s internal struggle completely.

Rin, still with elation masked as indignation, nods rapidly, “We’ll be there!”

… 

“Married,” Kabru’s still pouting by the time he and Rin arrive at Holm’s new residence, “And I had no clue…”

“He hardly minds,” Rin rolls her eyes, a kinder lilt overtaking her tone, “Besides, nobody else knew.”

Sighing wistfully, Kabru doesn’t expect her to understand, only continuing to mope.

“You’re probably the only one who brought a gift, so at least take that as a win,” Rin grumbles, annoyed by his angst, and knocks on the door.

Holm is not who greets them at the door, but rather a total stranger who already knows their names, “You must be Rin and Kabru! Welcome in, I’m glad you both could make it!”

Kabru’s terror only increases at the realization you know him by description, and he cannot even guess as to what your name is.

“I should die…” he whispers.

“Huh?” your eyes widen.

“Kabru! Rin!” Holm saddles up beside you, a hand finding the base of your spine while the other outstretches to accept his leader’s cradled gift, “You didn’t have to bring anything!”

“I would’ve felt terrible,” Kabru shakes his head, smile soft yet disarming.

You take it that you must’ve just misheard the nice man, then…

“You know,” Mickbell calls from where he’s lounging in Kuro’s lap on your couch, “I never would’ve taken you as the type for a serious relationship.”

Daya has half a mind to whack the man, and she probably would have if her own fiance hadn’t barked a laugh in approval. Instead, she swats him in the chest with a quiet grumble to be nice.

“Why wouldn’t I be?” if it weren’t for his gentle face, one could take the question as offended.

“You’re too laid-back…” Kuro huffs agreement to Mickbell’s point, “I would’ve thought a married man is more intense.”

“I don’t think that’s necessarily true,” Holm thankfully takes the jab with humor, “I’m seventy-six, not forty.”

“Imagine if you were?” you laugh.

“Nightmare, I’d be about you,” Holm chuckles.

“Oh, but it’d be flattering!”

“I was too immature.”

Mickbell scoffs, “Stupid long-living gnome and his stupid happy marriage.”

This time, Daya does smack the half-foot.

Meanwhile, Kabru is viciously examining yours and Holm’s body language and Rin is trying to psychically tell him to be normal.

“Your party’s very interesting…” you murmur to your husband.

“They’re just excited to be here.”

[munson-blurbs]

Thoughts on how eddie would react to the reader (his girlfriend) buying new underwear/lingerie and showing it off to him whike she changes into comfy clothes for the evening? Bc my boyfriend apparently didn't even look long enough to differentiate between two very clearly very different pairs and I need Eddie to have a better reaction🥲

Combining this with a req from @kellysimagines:

How about reader and Eddie dont wanna go out to celebrate their 3 year anniversary so they spend it at his trailer and the reader suprises Eddie only wearing thigh high leather boots and only that and Eddie is surprised and they have sex?

Warnings: smut (18+ only, minors DNI), sub!Eddie, dom!Reader, c*m eating, thigh riding, praise

WC: 1.3k

A/N: The model in the picture is just there to provide a visual of the boots, and does not necessarily represent how Reader looks. Eddie would worship any of your bodies 💚 also, shoutout to @big-ope-vibes for convincing me to post this tonight in an attempt to defeat the Sunday scaries and to @pastel-pillows for helping me write sub!Eddie.

--

“Hey, babe, I’m home!” Eddie’s voice calls out. His nose is pink from the chill in the air. Indiana winters are brutal, and this one is no exception. “And I brought Chinese for dinner!”

“I’m in the bedroom,” you call back. “Got you a little surprise.”

Eddie’s brows pinch together in confusion. “I thought we said no gifts,” he whines, placing the bag of takeout on a snack table. It’s your third anniversary, and you’re trying to save up for a house. The trailer Eddie bought from his uncle Wayne after the older man moved to Florida was cozy, but it wasn’t where you wanted to grow old together.

You giggle mischievously, further piquing his interest. “Just come over here, handsome!” You hear him stomp through the living room; he isn’t angry, just walks with a heavy foot. It makes it nearly impossible for him to sneak up on you, snaking his arms around your waist and resting his chin on your shoulder to say, “guess who?”

“Baby, you’re making me look bad–holy fuckin’ shit.” Eddie’s jaw basically hits the floor as he takes in the sight of you before him. You’re kneeling on the bed, wearing nothing but a sheer pink bra, a tiny matching g-string, and black thigh-high boots. “When did you–how did you–can I just touch you? Please?”

It seems bizarre, Eddie asking you for permission. He’s usually the dominant one, making you beg for an iota of pleasure. You’re taken aback for a moment before replying, “of course.”

His hands immediately fall to the swell of your breasts, thumbs easily finding your nipples through the gauzy material. “Don’t even know where to start,” he mumbles. He looks up at you with wide eyes. “Tell me what to do, Sweetheart. Please. I’ll do anything you say.” 

“Touch me, Eds. Need…need you to touch me.”

“Tell me where, baby,” he begs. “You’re in charge tonight. Want you to use me.”

The idea of bossing Eddie around is so foreign to you, and it takes you a beat before you can figure out exactly what you want. Your whole body buzzes with need. “Let me ride your thigh,” you murmur, “and while I do that, you’re gonna suck on my tits.”

Eddie nods, lifting you onto the bed and placing you on his lap. He starts to unhook your bra, but you shove his hands away.

“Did I say you could do that?” you snap, feeling more confident in your dominance.

Eddie gives you a confused look. “N-No,” he stammers, “but you said–”

“I said to suck on my tits. You can get me fully naked once you make me come. Got it?” When he just nods again, you tilt his chin upwards towards you. “Good boys use their words, Eddie.”

“S-Sorry.”

You sigh impatiently. “Don’t apologize; just tell me you understand.”

“Yes, ma’am. I understand. I won't get you naked until you come.” He swallows thickly, leaning in and bringing his lips to your clothed nipples. One hand rests on the middle of your back, but he stops before using the other one to cup your ass. “Can I please touch your ass?”

You kiss him, biting his lower lip as you pull back. “Since you asked so nicely.” He whimpers lightly, grabbing the soft flesh in his strong palms. For a brief moment, he looks like he wants to spank you–which he typically does–but quickly remembers his new role. His mouth returns to your tits, lapping and sucking on them hungrily. You wrap your arms over his shoulders, grinding down on his upper leg. ‘Keep your hands right here; that’s my good boy. Don’t let them move or I might not let you come.” 

“Won’t move,” he promises meekly, “take whatever you need. ‘M your fucktoy to use.”

You suck a harsh bruise into the nape of his neck, licking over it once you finish. “And what a sweet little fucktoy you are, hm? All mine, and ‘m gonna make sure everyone knows it.” You tug his shirt above his head and leave a trail of hickeys across his chest. Already started to feel pent up and overstimulated, Eddie instinctively begins bouncing his leg up and down. “Stay still,” you order him, ‘hold me and stay fucking still. Fucktoys don’t move.”

“Could I, um…could I kiss your neck?” Eddie asks, and you can’t help but note the slight whine in his tone. “Please, baby? ‘S my favorite spot…” He pouts as you shake your head.

“Tell you what,” you reason, still grinding your needy cunt on his thigh. You’re so wet that it’s leaving a damp patch on the denim, turning both of you on even more. “If you let me come, I’ll let you kiss my neck.” The friction is driving you wild, and you dig your fingernails into his bare back. “Fuck, Eddie. ‘S like your body was made to get me off.” 

You watch as his hand instinctively snakes down towards his erection, palming at it pathetically. A tiny whine escapes his lips as you pull it away and push him back onto the bed. “Trying to cheat the system?” you taunt him, rummaging through the dresser drawer until you find what you’re looking for. “Sit over there,” you motion towards the chair tucked under your vanity, “and put your hands behind you.” Eddie does as he’s told, a bead of sweat trickling down his forehead. The shiny silver handcuffs glint as you snap them around his wrists. “This is what happens when you can’t follow directions.”

“‘M sorry, ma’am,” he gulps, but you’ve already devised a new way to torture him. Slipping off your panties and unclasping your bra, you let both fall to the floor. You’re left only in the thigh-high boots. “Wan’ touch,” he mumbles, knowing that the effort is fruitless. Instead, he watches as you get down on your knees, pulling at his belt buckle and unfastening his button and fly. When you take his cock out of his boxers, he lets out an audible sigh of relief. He thinks I’m gonna blow him, you realize, a suspicion that’s only confirmed when he says, “Yes, baby, please.”

You tut disapprovingly as you make your way back to the drawer, purposely bending over a bit more than is necessary to give him a better view of your ass. Grinning, you slide a cockring down his shaft and press the tiny plastic power button. Eddie yelps out as the toy begins vibrating around the base of his length.

“Now,” you say, bringing yourself back to your position on his thigh, “I’m gonna get myself off, and you’re not gonna come until I tell you to.” He’s too overstimulated to respond, so you take his face in your hand and turn it so he’s looking into your eyes. “I said, good boys use their words.”

“Okay, yes, shit, I w-won’t come.”

You rub your clit against his naked thigh, faster until you feel your orgasm about to hit. His upper leg is covered in your slick, and you throw back your head in utter pleasure as you finish. “Such a good fucktoy, letting me come all over him. You’re so fucking good to me, Eddie.”

The praise combined with the vibrations and your own orgasm is too much for him to handle, and he groans out a loud string of curses. Thick, hot ropes of cum trickle down his cock, pooling in the thatch of curls at the base. “Shit, ‘m so sorry–I didn’t mean to–”

But you just kiss him, roughly and deeply, effectively shutting him up. “That was really hot,” you murmur into his ear, before dropping to your knees again. This time, you use your tongue to clean him up, swallowing every last drop. “And delicious.”

Eddie writhes against the chair, and you let him out of the restraints. “Baby, any time you wanna be in charge, just…just fuckin’ do it, holy shit.” He pauses before adding, “and wear those boots, too.”

“Okay,” you say, shooting him a salacious grin, “how does ten minutes sound?”

--

[hockeyboysimagines]

Hello dear! I see you've had a few requests about Tkachuk but he's one of my favorites so would it be too much of a bother if I asked too? hahah (you can switch to another player if you want)

I wonder what it would be like for him to commit even more to his girlfriend (not necessarily a marriage proposal, but a hint that this was in his future plans?) I think something like, he and his girlfriend met and started dating in Calgary, she's always gotten along with his family, friends and the whole complicated hockey universe. For silly reasons, she and Matt have been fighting a little more than usual, and it all gets worse when Matthew is traded to Florida. She is afraid of moving away from her home, family and friends, especially with the uncertain way things are going in their relationship. Oh and I don't know, maybe they take a break, Matthew moves to Florida and realizes that without her with him nothing feels right? Does she feel like Calgary has lost its color without Matt there? Does she go to one of his games by suprise? Or does he go all the way to Calgary to see her? Many possible endings hahaha

I hope this is what you had in mind!

Things had never been this bad.

All couples fight, sometimes over big stuff and sometimes over little stuff. But you and Matthew were fighting over both of those things and everything in between.

It seemed there was nothing you two weren’t fighting about these days. It felt silly thinking about it, and it felt even sillier to know that it really didn’t make any sense at all. Nothing had changed really, or at least not to your knowledge, although it had been a somewhat tough year in Calgary. Always the center of hockey drama, Matthew was becoming more well known than ever at this point, and your “strong” relationship had begun to crack under the pressure. In the beginning you decided you would hang tough, because the good parts always outweighed the bad. But now you were hanging on for dear life because the bad was drowning you. Once calm waters were now raging and choppy and more than once your head had dipped below the water line.

It was exhausting.

There wasn’t really one thing or one person that was to blame. It was both of you. You’d just forgotten how to to be with eachother.

In the beginning it was sunshine and rainbows. You loved the city, his family, the other Wags, all of it. You threw yourself into his life, being every bit the supportive girlfriend you should be. And it was great. But as time wore on, you’d lost your identity and become nothing more than Matthew Tkachuk’s girlfriend. And then the rumors.

You didn’t really believe them, but they still hurt. And he saw that. He saw how much you struggled with them, so he moved you into his apartment hoping that would make things better.

It didn’t.

If anything it was worse. Every minute he wasn’t home when he said he would be you sat wallowing in your own paranoia. He started posting more photos of you on his social media in order to quell your overthinking, which only opened the door for ugly remarks on your appearance and invasion into your privacy. To him it seemed like no matter what he did, it never made anything better, just worse.

But it had come to a head when the news of his trade to Florida broke.

You’d been blindsided, having no clue it was about to happen.

He however didn’t seem as surprised.

“I didn’t tell you because I wanted to surprise you.” He said nonchalantly as he unpacked a jersey the panthers had sent him “Your gonna love Florida. It’ll be a fresh start for us and I-“ he stopped when he caught your eye and frowned “What?”

“I’m not-I’m not moving to Florida.” You said quietly. The silence in the room was the loudest thing you’d ever heard. He was standing so still he could have been a statue, but the blood creeping up his neck and across his face gave him away.

“I don’t want to uproot my life that way, especially not with how things here have been going.”

“Babe things are going to get better.” He came around the counter and grabbed your hand “I know things have been hard but-“

“No you don’t.” A tear spilled over your lower eyelid and ran down your cheek “You have no idea how hard things have been for me.”

He stepped away from you “Oh don’t I? Do you think I would do everything I’ve been for the last year if I didn’t know?”

“I didn’t ask you to do any of that-“

“I did it because I love you and I wanted to help. Clearly that wasn’t enough. You know-“ he scoffed and turned away shaking his head “No matter what I do it’s ever good enough for you. You don’t want to come to Florida, fine don’t come.”

That had been 5 months ago. It had turned into a knock down, drag out screaming match that had ended in tears and a packed suitcase. You’d stayed with your sister for a week until he’d left for Florida and you hadn’t seen him since.

You’d been keeping tabs on him though, even finding yourself smiling a little as you watched the coverage on him in Florida. You missed him, realizing now that he was what made life in Calgary colorful and great. And that maybe there was more you could have done to fix things. Maybe he was right. You’d never really appreciate me the things he’d done to make things better for you and that maybe Florida would be kinder to you than Calgary was. And now you’d never get the chance to find out. You were walking through life without really living, completely numb to the outside until a knock at your door turned things around.

Matthew was standing on the other side of your door, bundled in cold weather gear. You were both surprised and not surprised. You knew he was in town for his “return to Calgary game”, but you didn’t think you’d see him. After all it had been 5 months of complete silence between the two of you. And while you’d hoped that maybe you would run into him or fate would bring you together, you also kind of didn’t. It would be hard to see him knowing what had gone down between you.

“I forgot how fucking cold it is up here.” He walked wordlessly past you and turned to find you still holding open the door.

Before you throw me out, just listen.” He reached past you and pushed the door shut before he sighed “I acted like an asshole before, and I should have talked to you sooner but it’s taken me 5 months to realize how dumb I was being. I have no idea how hard that was for you, and I won’t pretend to. The truth it, I never even tried. I just kept putting bandaids on our problems hoping it would make it better, but looking back I think if maybe I had tried to just see things differently and understand why we started to struggle it would be different. Every time something happened I saw you pulling away and I panicked because I didn’t want to lose you, so I took another step forward with you in hopes that would are it better. And I don’t regret any of that, but I wish I had tried to get a better understanding of your feelings and for that I’m sorry.”

You pursed your lips “It’s not your fault. I appreciate your apology and as much as I’d love to let you take the blame, some of it was my fault too. I wanted so badly to just be a part of your life that I gave up my own life for it. I loved being your girlfriend and everything that came with it, and when things got tough I never appreciated your support the way I should have. I never realized that you were only trying to help because I had my head so far up my own ass I couldn’t see straight. You did a lot to help me assimilate into your life and I never thanked you. I’m sorry too.”

He smiled a little, and then a lot “I know it’s crazy. But that offer about Florida is still there if you want it. I miss you and I want you there with me.”

You felt like you were melting as you walked forward wrapping your arms around his midsection “I missed you too. And if you want me to move to Florida with you, consider it done. I’d follow you to the North Pole Matthew Tkachuk.”

“The North Pole? Are you crazy. I barely made it here without freezing. How about we start with Miami? Sound good to you?” He smiled down at you.

“Anywhere with you does.”

[matcha-kathrin]

STRANGERS - Chapter 2

Summary: You can’t seem to get a night all to yourself, can you?

Pairing: Pedro Pascal x reader. Again, until they share names ya’ll can picture whomever.

Word Count: 2.5k

Notes/Warnings: Surprise suprise no warnings. Light flirting, a bit of anxiety mixed with anticipation. I’m very happy so many of you enjoyed yesterday’s first part! I had this already ready to go so I couldn’t wait to post it, part three may take a while so stay tuned for the next update!

Please read Strangers - Chapter One before this one. Thank you.

~*~

STRANGERS – Chapter Two

As most sudden meetings go you soon forgot about the stranger you met one late night at the speakeasy bar of your street. Even though every time you’d pass by your now favorite bar you couldn’t help but feel a tang of sorrow in your chest, mixed with something else. Was it expectation? You sometimes would look through the windows of the place and wonder if he was in there, searching for him before you could realize what you were doing. You huffed at yourself in amusement when you caught yourself. What did you expect? You knew that if the two of you were ever to meet again the fantasy would be broken, the moment you shared no longer a special memory. So, in fear of losing such a memory you soon distracted yourself with other things.

But sometimes, when you sat on the small fire escape outside your window to enjoy a small smoke break, the chilly air and soft noise of the streets would lead your mind right back to him. His tired posture, his brown eyes that looked at you from underneath those sunglasses. And his low voice, a voice that was getting harder and harder to recall as time passed.

Such was life. A blissful torture made of a string of encounters, each one beautiful and unique in their own way. Each one leaving you always craving for more. But it never came. And you were fine with that, sometimes you had to get out of your head. Those moments were nice, but what were they really? They weren’t real, they were the moments poets would write about, moments where the world didn’t exist, and two individuals shared a common thought. Beautiful, torturous moments.

It was better this way; you would think to yourself. It’s what you thought every time it happened, even if it had happened only a handful of times. You remember the one time you had tried hard to find one of your encounters, and you did, but it was all wrong. The magic of it all had…left. Your encounter had changed, the person no longer the one you had shared such a fond moment with, and inevitably the memory was ruined. You’d be damned if you’d let it happen again.

Unfortunately, many things were ultimately out of your control, as you so tried to explain to the stranger you had met weeks ago. Most of the time things happen with no reason and no explanation, and even before you realize what situation you’re in it’s too late. It was, once again, inevitable.

So, as you sat comfortably at a small table with mismatched chairs of yet another bar, watching the band that was playing in what you figured was only the best seat in the whole place, you sighed. Content.

You didn’t necessarily make it a habit of going out alone, god forbid you tried asking the few friends you had actually made in this hectic city to join you, but you failed. People had lives, priorities. No one could fault them for that, much less you. What were you to do? Not go out? Just because you were alone didn’t mean you couldn’t keep your own company, and the air was right.

Your feet had led you to the bar you were sitting in almost by their own will. And there you were, smiling happily as you watched the band play, tapping your foot lightly on the ground to keep tempo. And soon enough the song came to an end, breaking the unity that was suspended in the bar as people clapped, and chatter overlapped almost immediately. It was the noisy breaks that interested you the most, how people laughed, how the band took a few minutes to sip their beers and drinks, sweat on their foreheads glistening under the colored spotlights. And there you sat, taking it all in.

“Are you waiting for someone?” A voice asked from above you, you turned your head to the chair in front of you, not looking up at the man whose hands were on it.

“Oh, no I’m not. You can take it.” You smiled, looking up politely. But you stopped, your smile instantly dropping. Being met with brown eyes you thought you’d never see again.

“I was actually thinking of joining you, may I?” He asked, a small smile playing on his lips as he watched your surprised expression.

“I-” you stuttered, the words not seeming to form on your lips “sure, I wouldn’t mind the company.”

There he was; the stranger. Dressed much similarly to when you two first met. Only this time instead of a plain loose shirt he had a buttoned one, still loose. You were starting to see a pattern in his choice of clothes. Loose, comfortable, always paired with jeans and his leather jacket, which he hung at the back of the chair before sitting in front of you. And of course, his ridiculous sunglasses. It was already quite dark in the bar; you wondered if he could even see anything at all. For a moment there was silence, and you just looked at each other. It seemed eternal, but it was more of a split second than anything. Then the music started back up again, and you were awoken from your trance.

“How did you even recognize me with those things?” You laughed finally, not being able to contain your amusement at how weird he looked with such dark shades. He frowned, feigning offense.

“I happen to be used to them, thank you. I can see you just fine.” You were already feeling a warm buzz when he sat down, but now that he was leaned in front of you, his elbows on the table, telling you how he could see you clearly you couldn’t help but feel the creeping nervousness make its way up your neck. Oh, how you wished you were slightly tipsier. In fact, you replied by just picking up your drink and taking a sip, trying to hide your face as you did.

“I’ve never seen you here before, did you get bored of our special place already?” He flirted, and it took every ounce of self-control in your body not to sputter in your glass. Why was he here? Why was he flirting?

“If I told you the places I frequent we wouldn’t be strangers now would we?” you lulled “Besides, what’s so wrong with this place?” You continued, looking around as if trying to find fault in the perfectly quaint bar you were sitting in. He didn’t follow your gaze, just kept his eyes on you. Much to your nervousness.

“Nothing, I just grew fond of the other one that’s all.”

“I can imagine.”

“Can you?”

“So, what’s in store for you tonight then, hmm?” You quickly changed the subject. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t like the way he was talking to you, his voice loud enough for you to hear him, but not as loud for others to hear. And his voice. It was better, better than what you remembered. And it terrified you.

He seemed…scruffier than the last time you saw him, his patchy beard unkept, his hair tousled messily and well…his sunglasses were dark sure but that didn’t seem to hide the bags under his eyes as he sighed.

“I was hoping for another break…you see I’ve had a lot going on in my mind since…” He hesitated, looking between you and the table between the two of you “since the last time we spoke. I guess I still have to get better at…getting unstuck.”

It seemed like you kept getting closer to figuring out where you had seen him. Was he a model? Some sort of social sensation? He definitely had the looks for it, but for some reason each time you got closer to figuring out where you had seen him your mind just froze and you lost it. Maybe it was the drink you kept sipping or the warm air between you. Or maybe it was the way he kept looking at you. A way strangers would never look at one another. You snapped yourself back to reality, you didn’t know this man, didn’t know his name. You couldn’t deny the blatant chemistry between you but again…he was a stranger. And he was to remain as such.

“Don’t you think maybe you’re expecting too much of yourself?” You quietly asked as he had waited for your answer. He looked up at you again, as if in a daze, as if you could have said anything in the world and he would still be in awe.

“We have certain expectations of ourselves,” you continued, a small smile forming as you saw his stupor “we have to learn when to say no. You keep talking about being stuck- and tired, but I wonder if you’re not just doing too much? Maybe you’re mixing others expectations of you with your own, maybe you just don’t know how to put yourself first for once.”

He was lost in you, listening to your every word as if hungry, as if deprived of the sound of your voice. Mistaking it for distraction you placed your hand on his gently, making him freeze beneath you. Until he eased completely under your touch. “You have to take time for yourself, it’s okay to say no. It’s okay to disappoint others if it means you get to be happy.” You don’t know if the words you were speaking were for him or more for yourself, but his skin was feverishly hot under your fingertips, it was the best feeling in the world. His warm, tan skin, all to yourself.

He chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck as he so often did. You wondered if it meant he was nervous. “You…” he started, looking at you from underneath his glasses as he did the first night you met, and you could feel your heart in your throat “How do you know what to say even though I gave you nothing to go on?”

“Who knows,” you lifted your hand from his, seeing a small flash of disappointment in him as you did “maybe we’re not so different.”

“Oh, I believe we are.” His tone was playful, but you were anything but amused, his eyes…were really getting to you.

“Stop…looking at me like that.” The words came out of you before you could stop yourself. For a split second his brows furrowed, probably wondering if he had done something wrong, but he wasn’t blind, he saw how your cheeks were flushed. Maybe he was just kidding himself, maybe it was the heat of the stuffy bar or the alcohol in your drink.

Or maybe he was the one who had that effect on you.

“Looking at you like what?” He teased, but there was no smirk, no smile. The stranger was dead serious.

“Like…like that. It makes me- it makes me nervous.” You swallowed, you had been so calm, so confident. And suddenly you were a nervous wreck. He liked that he had that effect on you. Shutting it off you straightened your back, picking up your drink and swirling a few times before speaking. “Or don’t, I’ll get used to it either way.”

“Not so easily defeated, are you?”

“You thought that was enough to take me down?”

“I don’t know, did you think placing your hand on mine would be enough?”

You shut up at that. Narrowing your eyes at him in amusement. He gave a small laugh, feeling like he finally cornered you.

“That’s not fair, I wasn’t trying.” You quipped, sipping your drink. He hesitated, you weren’t trying? What were you like when you were trying? This was already more than enough for him, but he would never let you know.

“I was serious, about taking time for yourself. I don’t know what you do or why it’s got you so hung up, but I know a people pleaser when I see one.” You added, trying to get the sentiment through, of course you knew what people pleasers were like, you had been one for a while. It was terrible. Trying to appease everyone, trying to make everyone happy even if it meant you were miserable.

His smile fell, it seemed like you hit dead center. Seeing his expression drop made your chest tighten slightly. “But then again…I don’t know you. You’re the only person who knows what’s best for you. Don’t let some girl you met twice tell you how to live your life.” You laughed it off, trying to ease a bit of the tension that had formed. You wanted him to still think he could have his breaks with you, you wanted it to be light and fun. As it was in your first meeting.

Fuck. You knew it was going to be ruined. You should just get up, say your goodbyes and avoid him if you ever saw him on the street-

“You know me better than the majority of the people in my life.”

“Don’t lie.”

“Okay fine you don’t know me. But you…have a way of- listening to me for a few minutes and understanding me without me having to explain anything.”

“As I said,” you got up, drowning the last of the drink before putting your coat on “I don’t think we’re all that different. I know you all too well, because I’m just like you.”

“You’re leaving?”

“Of course I am, the more we talk the more we’ll know remember?” There you went again, hiding yourself behind a game you so desperately wanted to play out. A game he had no say in, but you wouldn’t let him. You didn’t know what scared you so much. He…had issues. That much you could tell. What scared you was the fact that even though you could see him coming from a mile away, you were still drawn to him. Dangerously so. The whole conversation was proof of it. You said nothing and everything, all he had to do was look at you with that look you couldn’t quite decipher, and you were sent into factory settings.

It was too risky.

“Maybe next time we’ll have a chance to share a smoke break again.” You whispered to him, placing your hand on his shoulder for a moment before leaving the bar. Not daring to look back.

He watched you leave, and he couldn’t do anything about it. Again.

You had such a finality when you spoke. As if once you decided to leave there was nothing that could sway you. He thought maybe this time he could keep you for longer, but he ultimately failed.

Ultimately, inevitably, failed.

“I’m nothing like you.” He whispered, taking his glasses off and rubbing the bridge of his nose after seeing you disappear through the windows of the bar.

[prince-rowan-of-the-forest]

What about 10. "Cat got your tongue?" with the fae Janus au?

Faeries in a Dance

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Roman's going out to a party, leaving Janus and Virgil alone to spend some time together. Maybe it takes Janus by suprise that Virgil wants to take part in some more magical shenanigans.

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| Ao3 | Previous Part |

This fic isn't necessarily a continuation, but it takes place in the universe of Faeries In The Forest (and other fics linked from there)

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Warnings: Dissociation (or possibly hypnotisation? Though it's framed positively)

Pairings: Anxceit, Anaroceit

Word Count: 1784

Notes:

Helloooo

This was based on this prompt/ask I got from an ask game SO long ago, like, over a year ago fdkffkds I can't believe I only just finished it lmao - so sorry this took so long jfdkslfjds

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"Cat got your tongue, my darling?" Roman hummed, raising an eyebrow at Deceit as he stepped out of his bedroom wearing the most - Virgil could only describe it as obnoxious, though Roman looked lovely in it - dress. 

Deceit was staring shamelessly at the way the dress split at Roman's thigh, the glittered red fabric elegantly pooling at his feet - where he was wearing sparkly red platform heels. 

"Roman-" Virgil started, about to protest the outfit he had chosen before a gloved finger was pressed to his lips. 

“You look stunning my dear,” Deceit said, “Don’t let V tell you otherwise.”

“I wasn’t gonna-”

“Shhh” Deceit said.

“I was-” Virgil was cut off with a kiss from Deceit.

“No talking for you, sweetheart, we’re admiring our lovely partner right now.”

Virgil huffed and crossed his arms, once Deceit had let him go he said, “You do look great, Roman.”

“Why thank you! Both of you! I was worried it’s a little much for the event, what do you two think?” Roman asked, stepping forward towards them.

“It’s a party to celebrate the success of your musical, is it not?” Deceit asked, Roman nodded, “Then surely a dramatic outfit is adequate.”

“Wonderful! You get it,” Roman laughed, Virgil huffed.

“It's a casual get together between tha cast,” He said, “Not the oscars.”

Roman burst out laughing, “I see your point, V, but consider: I'll be the most beautiful one there! Isn’t that wonderful?”

“More like embarrassing,” Virgil mumbled.

“You won’t even be there, darling,” Deceit told him, “If our Prince wants to wear such a dazzling outfit to his party I don’t see why he shouldn’t.”

“Awee you think I’m dazzling?” Roman tried to tease, though he was bright red with blush. 

“Of course I do,” Deceit said, stepping closer. Roman nearly matched his height with those heels. Slipping a finger under Roman’s chin, Deceit tilted his head up so they were nose to nose, “Although you are always beautiful, I can’t say you didn’t render me speechless, my dear.”

“Oh- oh I- um- thank you!” Roman stammered, his face as red as his dress. Deceit chuckled and pressed a kiss to Roman’s lips. Virgil laughed as Roman chased Deceit’s lips when he pulled away.

“Careful darling, I don’t want to smudge your lovely makeup.” Deceit said, though Virgil could already see that his lips were stained red from Roman’s lipstick. 

“And besides, I want a kiss too,” Virgil huffed, stepping forward, “If you’re gonna dress like that you can’t expect us not to.”

“Of course not,” Roman laughed, swooping down to press a kiss to Virgil’s lips too, hand tangling in his hair even as he pulled away, eyes sparkling with a smile. Now his lipstick really was smudged, though it somehow looked even better now that it was more diluted.

“You planned this,” Deceit said, chuckling as he reached for Roman’s hands, “You knew we’d kiss you so you put on more lipstick.”

Roman chuckled, “You caught me! I just know you both so well my darlings.”

Shaking his head, Virgil gently pushed Roman towards the door, “Get out, you flirt, or you’ll be late for your party.”

“Alright alright,” Roman laughed, kissing Virgil on the cheek and then reaching over to do the same to Deceit, “I’m going!”

“Keep your phone on!” Virgil told him sternly, always one for keeping them safe. 

“Go on, enjoy your night my dear.” Deceit said, waving a hand as Roman turned back in the doorway to wave at them. Moments later he was shutting the door behind him and rushing out of their apartment to head to his party. Virgil turned to look at his remaining boyfriend.

“Why didn’t you want to go with him?” Virgil asked, tilting his head. They had both been invited, Virgil knew why he didn’t want to go, but he thought Deceit would be quite in place at a party. 

Deceit hummed, taking his hand and leading him over to the sofa, where he was pulled gracefully into the faerie’s lap, “I’m not sure dancing with mortals in a crowded space would go down so well,” He said softly. Virgil leant against his chest, letting out a hum. He’d almost forgotten how dangerous fae powers could be. 

“Right,” He says softly. 

“Why didn’t you want to go?” Deceit asked, running a hand through Virgil’s hair. 

“I’m a socially awkward, anxious freak?” Virgil says plainly, as though talking about the weather, making Deceit frowned.

“You are not a freak,” he says, kissing Virgil’s forehead, “You are anxious and socially awkward, though, I cannot deny those.”

Virgil chuckles, laying his head on Deceit’s shoulder, “Roman loves all these parties and stuff, I just… don’t, I’d rather be here.”

“I understand,” Deceit says softly, “And I would rather not enchant a whole room of mortals to dance, as freeing as it would be for me.”

At that, Virgil paused. Deceit had always been upfront about not wanting to enchant or hurt people. He was summer, he had the power to burn along with the fun-seeking spirit of a seelie. Virgil hadn’t quite considered how repressing the natural instinct to take and enchant and bewitch mortals might affect him.

An idea popped into his head, then. A stupid idea that he dismissed at first, content to cuddle with his faerie, though it wormed its way back into his consciousness and eventually he gave into it, standing up and offering Deceit a hand as well. He took it with a curious tilt of his head. 

“Will you help me move the couch?” Virgil asked, gesturing towards the wall. They’d need a bit of space.

“Yes…?” Deceit said, clear confusion on his face even as he did as Virgil asked. 

“Okay, cool, uh - I’m just gonna…” he mumbled as he connected his phone to the bluetooth speaker they kept next to the TV. 

“What are you up to, little spider?” Deceit asked, frowning as Virgil scrolled through his phone. 

“We need music to dance to,” Virgil said simply, setting down his phone and turning to look at Deceit, who was suddenly staring wide eyed, “What?”

“You… want to dance with me?” Deceit asked, looking surprisingly tentative.

“You said dancing would be freeing,” Virgil said, putting on some random song from his playlist and holding out his hands, “So dance with me.”

“But you… you know what it will do to you, don’t you?” Deceit asked, already reaching for his hands. 

“I trust you,” Virgil said, taking Janus’ hand and spinning into his chest, “Though I’ll warn you I’m not really a good dancer.”

“You want me to enchant you?” Deceit asked, wrapping one arm around Virgil’s waist, Virgil smiled up at him.

“Yeah, I think so,” Virgil said - he wasn’t having doubts exactly but Deceit’s worry made him worry more too.

“Would you like me to tell you how you’ll feel first?” Deceit asked, leaning down to press a kiss to his lips - he tasted so sweet, even more so than normal, and his touch made Virgil’s lips tingle. 

“I think that would be reassuring,” Virgil nodded - then they would both know what they were agreeing to. 

“You’ll feel hazy,” Janus said, “Warm, relaxed - I believe you’ll feel like you’re floating, light as air - you’ll feel happy, maybe even freed - and you won't want it to end.”

“It will end, though, right? I won’t be stuck?” Virgil asked, he didn’t want to be stuck like that, though it did sound… almost nice.

“Of course not,” Deceit said, “As soon as we stop you’ll start coming down from it, I’ll take care of you.”

“And we won't dance for too long, will we?” He asked, not giving in to the way Deceit had already started swaying with him to the music.

“No,” Deceit said softly, “We won't dance for more than an hour.”

“Okay,” Virgil said, turning around to face Janus properly with a smile on his face, “I trust you.”

“I’ve never felt so honoured to have someone’s trust,” Janus said softly, lowering a hand to his shoulder and the other to his waist so that he could begin to spin him around in a slow dance. The song Virgil had chosen might not be the best for it, but it was better than nothing for him. Janus pressed another kiss to his lips and Virgil let the almost sickly sweet taste wash over him. He was giving Janus his trust entirely, he would be completely at his mercy if he let go and allowed himself to be taken by the dace, but… for some reason he wanted to. 

Slowly he felt his mind slip away. He felt that floaty feeling Janus had mentioned overtake him and he felt elated. There was no worry, no anxiety, just the music and the way they were moving, the soft gentle touch of Janus’ hands and the gentle turning and swaying he was being guided into. Virgil wasn’t a dancer, but then he’d never danced like this before. 

Dazed in the best way, happy and giggling, letting out a laugh he never would’ve under different circumstances. He heard Janus laugh too, he could almost feel him drinking up the energy in the room - the energy Virgil was relishing in. 

Before he knew it though the feeling was beginning to fade away. He felt strong arms lift him and ever so gently set him down, he felt a comforting presence next to him, a hand in his hair, kisses pressed to his face. Virgil snuggled up to the warmth and sure enough he fell asleep in minutes. 

—

“Good evening, sunshine,” Deceit said softly when Virgil finally woke. It was dark, Virgil’s head still felt a little funny - just a little bit of fog that hadn’t cleared, “How do you feel, my dear?”

“What time’s it?” Virgil asked, slurring his words a little. 

Deceit chuckled, helping him to sit up, “Almost eleven, you slept for a few hours.”

“Bah,” Virgil grumbles.

“You probably needed it sweetheart,” Deceit said, kissing his forehead, “Did you have fun?”

It took a moment for him to remember what Deceit was talking about - but soon enough he remembered the dance, the feelings, the way he’d felt so safe and warm… “Yeah, I did - we should do it again sometime… it was really relaxing…”

“I’m so glad you enjoyed yourself,” Janus hummed, pressing little kisses all over his face, Virgil squeaked and batted him away, “Really though, I’m glad you felt relaxed enough to sleep, my dear.”

“Me too,” Virgil said with a nod, before grinning a little, “Princey’s gonna be so jealous he missed out.”

"Well that just gives us an excuse to do it again, doesn't it?" 

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Tags: @full-of-roman-angst-trash @your-local-random-dino @cutebisexualmess @glacierruler @roseianxiety @bella-bugatti-frogetti-baguetti @scalesfeathersnfur @oatmealdaydreams @littlerat2 @goldnskyart (if anyone wants to be added, let me know!)

[coldpintglass]

💖👖💭👀 for the fanfic asks!

RIVER!!! Thank you so much for the ask, you’re a babe. Also a great compliment because I love your stuff so much 💖🥺

💖What do you like most about your own writing?

I really enjoy the sort of personable way I write a characters POV/ internal dialogue! Take this snippet from “you’re my baby, say it to me” where Southgate has a clanging realisation about his future:

“He has to quit.

He sits with the thought for a minute, it’s been rattling around his head for days, shadowing him every step of the way. He knows they’ve been calling for his head back home, pundit and public alike.

He should have quit already.  

Fucking hell, he thinks, and then swigs the whole mug of whiskey in one go.”

Because that’s how people think through events. They talk in their head! They bat it around and imagine scenarios and have horrible moments of clarity. It keeps you up at night! 

From a writing perspective: it makes it easier to understand motives, to make a fic memorable plus, frankly, it’s so much fun to both write AND read as if you’re in the characters shoes. Not just watching them from the outside! 

👖 Are you a planner, plantser, or pantser? Is it consistent

BOTH. A rough outline of what I want to go down will get plotted, plus I’ll probably spend some time mulling it about my brain to see what jumps out (or more recently, chat about on discord with likeminded folk, HELLO CARRAVILLE DISCORD, LOVE YOU 💖) 

Catch is, I think I have it plotted out and then fuck me, this is taking a turn isn’t it? Whoosh, out goes the plan and in come the vibes. So, swing and a miss tbh. This has happened with all 3 fics I’ve published so far…! 

Like “Amensalism” started life as something else, in fact the section where Southgate dreams about Harry agreeing to letting him care for him was the first part I wrote. It was meant to be much much much more bleak and grim for Harry.

💭 What is a headcanon you have about your own work?

That it is painfully obvious that I am English and grew up on British comedy 😔🇬🇧🍺💷

 I think it was Sara (@storyshark2005) who asked in the comment of “i thought maybe we could kiss tonight” if I was British because of my dialogue I’d given Jamie!!! I actually quite love being able to flag that sort of regional U.K. dialogue with words/phrases. Think it puts a nice stamp on the work and also makes me feel I can do a decent job at fleshing out characters. 

👀 Do you have any WIPs that you would never let see the light of day? If yes, what are they about?

I think I want this WIP to see the light of day BUT it’s probably the most unsavoury and grim thing I’ve written. I’m not sure how many people would want to imagine it, let alone read it. Anyway, as mentioned above, I totally intended Amensalism to be a much more bleak and nasty fic. I literally dubbed it “SouthKane Misery AU” when writing it as a draft header. 

And then I realised actually where I wanted to go with this. Let’s just say it’s slowly becoming more “Dead Dove: Do Not Eat” then I care to admit. 

Here is a snippet of it.

NB: warnings for abandonment, unhealthy relationship, and BDSM. Probably rate this section as a hard T, so nothing explicit. Sorry don’t know how to describe this more specifically but you’ll know fairly quickly if you want to touch this or not. Behind a read more it goes:

“Come on Harry, it’s not difficult” He tugs his hair sharply “Be a good boy now”

“P-please, please I’m sorry, boss, please-“ he chokes on a sob. 

It’s exceedingly easy to get Harry to cry, that’s not a problem necessarily, quite the opposite. But Gareth is almost suprised it’s this easy to start seeing cracks in him - he’s a ugly crier, lips pulled up high, nose and eyes streaming, blotchy red face. 

However, tears means he’s making progress.

“All you have to do is let go, I’m not sure why that’s so hard for you” Another tug, another sob. 

“I-I’m not a dog” he croaks out “Boss, please, Gareth -“

Defiance and using his name? Christ, can’t even piss outside without making a huge deal about it. Gareth tuts, it’s a shame really, two steps forward and one step back. 

Still, nothing a night outside in the stables can’t fix. 

He lets go of Harry hair, turns on his heel and locks the door.

*

Gareth finds he’s almost tempted to flick the heating on, it’s gotten chilly this morning, a welcome reprieve after a week of hot afternoons and muggy evenings. Woven silk threads are scattered across the grass, coated in dew, glinting in the dappled sunlight from the trees. He couldn’t ask for a better a view out over the window by the kitchen sink. It’s times like this hes especially glad for the house, even if it needs constant matience and having to wrangle around the council if he wants to do anything. But a Quick Look at the vistas outside and all is forgiven.

Speaking of. 

He grabs a bowl from the cabinet, filling it with tap water, and pulls a banana off from the bunch in the fruit bowl. He’ll give Harry something a bit more substantial once he’s inside and got him to ask for it nicely. It’s finding the right balance that’s tricky, he does love him, honest, even after everything. 

But that doesn’t mean he’s above correcting Harry when he goes wrong. 

As he opens the door, the cold nips at Gareth, that’s a little bit fresher than he was expecting to be. Well, he’s not a monster, he throws the dogs blanket over his shoulder. He pulls on his outdoor shoes he keeps by the door and walks across to the stables, the dawn chorus starting to wind down to make way for the rest of the day. 

A quick turn of the key in the lock and he is greeted by Harry blearily staring up at him from the floor. He’s hit by the stench of piss and body odour as he step inside, a dark puddle shaped stain on the concrete beneath Harry.

He puts the bowl and banana down in front of Harry, bending down as he reaches round to click open the lock on his wrists and is taken a back by how grimy Harry feels, specks of dirt and dust covering his goose flesh skin. His skin blossoming under different shades of pink and red, the chill slowly creeping around his body. 

Not a peep from Harry. No crying, no whinging, no sharp comments. It’s lovely. Gareth can’t resist indulging him with a kiss to his temple, he’s done so well, wrapping the blanket round his shoulders. 

“You ready to be nice and listen to me now, sweetheart?”

Harry manages a shallow nod, his hands shaking as he tugs the blanket right around him. 

“Good boy, have a drink and I’ll feed you after” 

[paladinwife]

🛌🤪❤️ whoever you'd like! suprise me :)

Not those emojis-

Answering these all for HSR Carmen!

🛌: What tropes show up in fics involving your ship?

So here’s something interesting I’ve noticed about ships involving HSR Carmen - she tends to either end up in a dichotomy (like with Kafka, where they are the Trailblaze and the Finality respectively), or in a ship with someone who deeply resembles her in some way (like with Himeko). Acheron is an interesting example where both are kind of applicable, as both are kind of wandering around the galaxy with no hard ties because of their backgrounds, but also they have what’s probably best described as a sun and moon dynamic. Also, this one’s a platonic example, but I have to include Aventurine for both being a narrative foil to Carmen, but also one that both resembles her in some ways design-wise and does have some poignant similarities to her.

🤪: What is your trait that fanon would exaggerate?

My honest guess is it would be her diva and hater tendencies. They’re definitely there, particularly when she’s interacting with Aventurine and he’s feeding into them, but she’s not completely unreasonable. I do think she’d get the “hater and a gatekeeper but God’s favorite princess” treatment, which is funny and I definitely make that joke about her, but it can be exhausting when that’s all they boil her character down to. Also, because most of the targets of her Hater Behavior happen to be men, I absolutely dread to think that there would be a fringe group of the fandom that would construe it as man-hating — I mean, come on, she’s bisexual!

❤️: How popular is you x your f/o? Are you a rarepair?

We discussed this in vc but I’m putting it here for the world to see! I think her most popular ship for sure would be her and Acheron, because they’d get to interact a lot in the Penacony arc and the chemistry would be pretty natural. Himeko/Carmen and Kafka/Carmen would follow right after, because Himeko also gets some good interactions with her during Penacony, and as I’m planning it now, Kafka is an important figure in her character quest. Everything beyond that is probably less common, but maybe not necessarily rare.

[ashersbraincell]

Just had the most terrifying nightmare yet, one of those stereotypical ones that actually incorporate both real life events twisted into optimum trauma factor scare and topped off with a dusting of sugar(your traditional spooky stuff)

I will try to retell it, but first

TW: bodies, trauma, school trauma, second hand embarrassment, sleep paralysis, nightmares, night terrors(?), being chased, body horror, physical abuse, bullying, fear of the dark, fear of heights, hyperventilation, hyperventilating, false awakening, being stared at, being watched

Okay, so first thing I remember is that, for some reason, in this dream-universe it was required of all school graduates to complete a day of chaperoning the youngest(a year 7, I live in Britain). So I’m chaperoning this kid, I think his name was Liam? Something with an L I think. Looks, kinda familiar? I’m not sure now. I couldn’t recreate his face now if you asked me to imagine it clearly but in it was still much clearer than most dream characters.

Well anyway, we check in with the head of the school(who, again, looked familiar but I don’t think I actually knew her irl. Perhaps she was a mashup of all the female teachers I’ve known that had long-ish white blonde hair. Well anyway, she sets us off for the day. I find myself actually somewhat compassionate for the kid, which I guess was expected since, again, in the „dream universe” the reason this was required was to build compassion and kindness or something.

So there were two moments when my school trauma(bullying), particularly showed up. Once, just, seeing that familiar hallway. With the Nurses office and all(personal detail, won’t make sense but wanted to add it for myself). Then, later, there was a more elaborate moment. So it’s breaktime, and this kid meets up with his chubbier, glasses friend(/not negative just the two descriptors I particularly remember. He was also blonde like Liam but his hair was slightly more bowl-cut shaped).

Said friend has a bottle(for some reason, one shaped like those gas tanks? It was huge) of alcohol. Naturally, I caution them but I’m too timid to overstep my boundaries. Doesn’t matter though, since lessons start up again and. The crowd comes(another trauma, my school had major overcrowding to the point that it became dangerous oftentimes when breaks would end especially). I get lost in the sea of people, and start completely panicking/crying/hyperventilating when I feel some guy just, grab my hair and yank it continuously(didn’t happen specifically back then, but I had many other experiences of being physically abused in those crowds, shoving, shoving against walls/door-frames, kicking, etc).

It cuts to later when I’m apologising for just, blanking out like that but the aforementioned blonde haired lady is forgiving. Later, it is lunchtime and I loose the kid again, I assume among the masses of people though this time I don’t think it was any more scary than just being a crowd(don’t think any more physical abuse occurred). So I’m looking for him everywhere and eventually remembered that some kids would gather in classrooms to eat(this didn’t actually happen, again, dream-universe thing), and check until I find him and sit down.

They are, unsurprisingly drinking alcohol. At some point I HAD reported that so I wondered how they weren’t caught. Somehow, H(again, personal detail, stands for a name I OBVIOUSLY dont want to disclose) was another chaperone for some other kid there at the time, which is suprising how much of a general red flag he is as a person. But I try to put up face and just, make it to the end of the day. But, eventually we start watching cringey tik toks to make fun of them, and an old one of mine comes up(though I’ve had cringey tik tok accounts that I am mortified by, this one wasn’t an actual one I’ve had, again dream-universe thing. Not necessarily a trauma but it is a fear of mine that someone could find the ones that DO exist so another point for realism horror ig). Obviously I’m so distracted by this that we proceed to be 10 MINUTES late, and that’s apparently my last strike.

Now here is where I think my brain ran out of material to torture me with, because things get more, if not in an extremely bizarre way, „traditionally” nightmarish. As I take the walk of shame to the library, slowly transforming into a librarian, the kids’s, all the kids’s eyes have become nothing but bright red circles in a fashion that would almost the cartoonishly ridiculous would it not have had the immersiveness of the dream. All staring. And they’re droning, all in unison, something I don’t remember. I’m dream universe, I was aware of this being the consequences of failing my mission, being sentenced to working as the librarian at that school forever.

Later cuts to me in the car with my mom, talking about my „demotion”, ig. I mention the fact that the blonde haired teacher lady ACCUSED me of drinking the alcohol myself and that being the reason for my lateness, since I was much too embarrassed to admit to what actually happened. I, of course fervently denied the allegation as it was obviously something I’d never do. To which she patronisingly continued to not believe me, „reassuring” that it was „understandable” for someone my age. A statement, much to my disappointment and disbelief, my mother echoed. She would not believe me either. The whole thing had very „fallen Angel” vibes so I guess it had that going for it in the metaphorical department

Then, for some reason, we were walking through and out of an apartment complex, one of many in a line, though this one had a straight line on path towards a bridge…over a completely dark abyss. A huge one, too. Apparently, this was a normal occurrence of getting home every day(one could make out the end of the bridge, and it didn’t look particularly damaged, but it sure as hell wasn’t sturdy(it was one of those hanging rope ones). We start going through, and I just hear this bellowing howl from within the abyss. We begin to stagger back, obviously, but out of the corner of my eye, towards the edge of the abyss, on a sort of shore, I notice a…mass? No, a body. It’s really pale, white, like completely with a greyish hue, and curled up in such a way I can’t make out a head, but I wouldn’t be suprised if it was bald.

I am horrified, instinctually so. Like I just, KNOW that it will begin to chase us and something HORRIBLE will happen if it should get to us. As I begin to audibly go into hysterics(ie „oh god, oh god, what the fuck, oh god” etc) it begins to move, jerking in in-human ways, as I sprint for it. At first, my mom has the idea to try to duck behind and hide behind some of the apartment complex’s walls, (they were irregular, not lined up smoothly, with a section pertruding forward in the middle of each one) but I just knew it wouldn’t work. In hindsight, I thought my screaming had already set off it’s instincts and it was after us anyway. I eventually let go of my mom’s hand, and keep running. At this point, I was already like, half-dreaming, half-imagining it, as I was already gradually waking up so I kinda just had a „man, fuck this” moment and fully pulled myself out of the dream.

Had the sneaking feeling it COULD turn out to still be right behind me towering over my bed(I was turned towards the wall) l, so I did many a reality checks, a double-reality checks to make sure I was fully awake and wasn’t in for another round via false-awakening. I wasn’t.

Dude, when I tell you it was fucked up. One of those nightmares you wake up hyperventilating from. Eurghhh

[saintmeghanmarkle]

Harry Duke of Sussexs uncle Charles (Dianas younger brother) is divorcing his THIRD wife - yet of course the genetic pain comes from the Windsors side. Sure by u/Lensgoggler

Harry, Duke of Sussex’s uncle Charles (Diana’s younger brother) is divorcing his THIRD wife - yet of course the ‘genetic pain’ comes from the Windsor’s side. Sure… So, I saw this in the newspapers (not going to link - the fact it’s his third divorce speaks for itself) and it got me thinking how naive or manipulative the Duke and Duchess of Sussex are, blabbing about genetic pain and how it’s all KCIII’s fault (not Diana’s, not the late Queen’s and Prince Philip’s fault - ONLY The King’s). And how about both Diana and her brother Charles, not having witnessed a healthy romantic relationship probably were and are both unable to pull a good partnership off themselves. Remember, Charles didn’t attend his daughter’s wedding? A bit if a red flag, I thought. I have googled the Spencer dynamic a bit and it’s pretty horrifying for everyone involved, over several generations…I’m not blaming anyone. I have a deeply flawed dad myself as my gran is a narc and my dad still acts like a teenager - but it’s his choice, he claims he’s fine. It’s tragic - a marriage ending is tragic. What suprises me is Harry idealising Diana and not being able to learn from the lessons of both Diana and all the other Spencers’ lives. As I gather, William went out of her way to understand Diana as a human, but Harry didn’t and it shows. Meghan probably has no interest in healing any problem areas either. So… not suprised they are where they are. Generational trauma is not a life sentence but only if you look at it closely, come to terms with and learn from it. The Sussexes are barking under the wrong three, so to say.I hope Harry’s uncle Charles stops and takes a breather and a moment to think before rushing into another marriage. post link: https://ift.tt/BIZj09C author: Lensgoggler submitted: June 11, 2024 at 02:27PM via SaintMeghanMarkle on Reddit disclaimer: all views + opinions expressed by the author of this post, as well as any comments and reblogs, are solely the author's own; they do not necessarily reflect the views of the administrator of this Tumblr blog. For entertainment only.

[too-many-rooks]

Writing procrastination game!

Thanks @lastlymatt for tagging me, I got rambly so I’ll put this under a ‘read more’

Tagging @pigandpepper @known-concepts @countessrivers

1.) what’s the name of one of your wips?

My doc names are usually very boring 95% of the time I finish a fic and think it’s ready to post and realise I need a title. How about ‘Yassen Bedroom Visit’?

2.) Describe a Wip in the format of __+__=__

SCORPIA heir Alex + totally normal kidnapping and drugging in the middle of the night get to safety orienteering exercises = childhood trauma

3.) What tags/warnings will one of your Wips need if you share it?

Forced child seperation?

4.) alternative title to a wip?

I don’t really have alternate titles! Titles tend to come pretty late in the process!

5.) which wip are you most likely to update/finish next?

Probably one of my s3 aus I’ve got brewing, there’s a longer thing I posted the first chapter of today but I also have some one shots, one where Yassen gets wounded fighting off Alex’s enemies and Alex basically has to hold him down to say he cares about him, and another where Yassen comes to chat to him in the middle of the night (while Alex is sleeping) and they catch up.

6.) what is one of your wip’s document title, not what it’s name is but what you have it saved as?

Again, extremely boring. Some examples - ‘Tom/House introduction’, ‘stables’, ‘the ball’, ‘heir apparent 1-9’, ‘hunting’ ‘hostage’ ‘orienteering.’

On reflection, these are very badly organised. But, hey Ho.

7.) post any sentence from your WIP?

Okay this took me forever to decide bc I want to share like, all of my sentences, but here’s a sentence from my SCORPIA heir Alex thing where Yassen just tries to take a day off, but is interrupted by Alex sneaking out of school/the country and mountain his school is on

‘Rubbing his eyes with his forefinger and thumb, he blocked out the little blonde headache sat before him, and sighed, already imagining the state of his email inbox when he got back to his laptop, which he’d sworn would stay folded in its case for the rest of the day.

“And how long ago was this? When should I start expecting panicked calls from your father?”‘

8.) a scrapped idea from your WIP?

Not necessarily a scrapped idea but evidently one I forgot about and rediscovered as I was flicking through google docs - originally a pre-season 3 idea (but could work post s3) where Yassen retires, and decides it’s time for Alex to retire too, even if he doesn’t want to. Very “congratulations you are being adopted! Do not resist.” Meme with Yassen that I’ve seen on here, the bit I’d written was him contemplating the least traumatising way to kidnap him, to make sure they’re a happy family unit post-kidnapping

9.) what’s a story you would love to write but have yet to start?

Alex sees dead people AU - Ian knows, when he dies his ghost becomes bound to Alex, and helps take care of him/watch over him in the field, Alex bumps into Yassen at Point Blanc and immediately recognises the ghost bound to him as his father, especially as he begs the assassin to stop pretending like he can’t hear him for once and let him see his son, to protect him.

10.) how many WIPs are you actively working on?

Four - regency fic, darker Alex s3 au, two other s3 aus I mentioned earlier. Suprised myself by how much of this longer ‘SCORPIA heir’ Alex thing that I’d put off for a while I’ve actually written. That’s one that I really want to finish before I start posting bc I’m bad at doing work without an immediate emotional reward/it’s a longer than anything I’ve written before and I don’t want to give up on it when it’s half published. I had been delaying it till after s3 but maybe time to get to work (will try and finish regency fic first)

11.) is there a scene your struggling to write now?

Oh I mean so many but the most immediate stumbling block is with the regency fic, chapter after this one they go to a ball and that’s almost basically written and so is a lot of the next two chapters but there’s things I need to thread into this chapter that just don’t want to be threaded - I need Alex to start being a bit more suspicious of Yassen, and remember that whole thing about his uncle being murdered now he’s a bit passed the initial princess diaries revelation moment.

I was thinking like Alex waiting up for him on Christmas Eve or something and falls asleep then is woken by Yassen sneaking back in and Alex noticed he’s got blood on his clothes or something and Yassen just shrugs him off and reacts more strictly/authoritatively than he has before. But the scene is a bit sludgy I my mind atm.

12.) Not a question but a second kudos!

[ronwestbreeze]

tbh neytiri the least on my nerves but both tustey and jake are assholes (granted they act like that from trauma) but i’m suprised(or maybe not, reeds is in a lot of grief now) that reeeds didn’t use that marriage proposal as a bargain chip to grant herself freedom and be allowed to tame an ikran(which only the onomatopoeia can grant someone) in exchange of giving tustey an heir(or spare? if netayam his heir?) for him to raise with neytiri and jake. i’m not sure maybe that would be my choice since i have a tendency to run away from the people that cause me pain.

oooh what an interesting take! reeds probably still wouldn’t accept the proposal mostly because no one’s necessarily forcing her to be there so i don’t see her using the proposal as a bargain for that when she could simply steal a truck or a Samson ship to escape anyway

but i like your take too! if she were truly being held captive there then i could possibly see her doing that out of desperate or a last last resort.

[nickeverdeen]

hello! could i please request a ship from the hunger games, avatar the last airbender and the umbrella academy? i’m ok with being shipped w any of the adult characters in any of the fandoms also. my name is noelle & i’m a bisexual cis female (she/her pronouns). my fav romance tropes are arranged marriage & forbidden romance, and (i think) my love language is physical touch. i’m also an entp & gryffindor! i LOVE to travel & i value experiences over possessions. my family is very important to me and i also really want to have children in the future but not necessarily get married. i’m a people person but i enjoy having some quiet time to myself. i like think i’m pretty nice, but do not cross me 👀 also, my dream job is either a comedian, working in film or something to do with traveling <3 i’m also considered “the funny one” & the ‘wild child.’ i also struggle/have struggled with anxiety, depression, substance abuse & eating disorders. i love to read books and write (mostly scripts & poetry.) i love my job as a barista and i also enjoy going on spontaneous adventures! i love camping, swimming and anything to do with nature. i have a navel piercing, a sagittarius (my zodiac sign!) arrow tattoo below my neck and a fig tattoo on the back of my arm. my style is very 70s mixed with early 2000s. i thrift basically everything i own. i’m 5’3 & have dark blonde hair with blue eyes, i’m pretty chubby but i have a great ass lol. thank you so so much!! :)

Your Hunger Games match is…

Peeta Mellark

After the games he needs physical touch

His love language is physical touch and time quality

Peeta would also like to have children one day

He also prefers to have some time for himself

Likes your jokes and would try to beat you with his

Would fail

Peeta knows how to handle mental/emotional problems ‘cause he expirienced some of them himself

Takes you outside on a date 100%

He is a very observant person so he’d notice your tattoos

Asks if they have any meanings or you just took them because you liked them

Would need you to remind him what’s real and what’s not, sometimes

Your Avatar The Last Airbender match is…

Zuko

Zuko tried not to fall for you considering that being with you - someone who ain’t a firebender - would disappoint others

But he does fall for your personality and body

He ain’t much of a touchy type at first, but would “warm up” after few weeks

Zuko would to your suprise take you to travel on his boat

He ain’t really sure if he wants kids in the future

Likes your attitude

Doesn’t really get your jokes at first, but after a while he would start to understand

Knows exactly how to help you if you’d ever feel down or have your mental problems back

I mean he went through some of them himself

Jokes about your hight

Finds your clothing style funny and real good at the same time

You’re his comfort person and he’s very protective of you

Your Umbrella Academy match is…

Allison Hargreeves

Take in vain her childhood making her touch-starved

So she is seriously into physical touch

Would like to have children one day too

I mean look at her when she had Clarke

(or whatever her name was)

Seriously likes your jokes and puns

Allison has a truma and some other mental issues

So

She knows how to help you if you’re ever back at it again

Feeling upset in general? Let’s go out or whatever you wanna do

Cuddles 100%

Allison likes your clothing style a lot and would ask for your tips with hers sometimes

[chemnections]

I don’t think Gerard likes to quit and is encouraged to do so by his wife. He clearly has been dealing with mental health issues for almost all of his life and is really insecure and has been open about it. From what Frank has said about MCR’s future, I get that they are doing everything at a peace that is comfortable for everyone. And that means respecting their time. Gerard himself before the announcement for the Shrine concert said if MCR came back they would release stuff without promo. His mental health talk during COVID also made it clear that he has a problem with overexposure. I understand we want more from them, I believe we will get much more, but nothing will happen unless it’s exactly when they are ALL ready for it. They just toured for a year after ten years and played over 60 songs, new and old, they deserve a break and they needed time to be a band again before anything else.

its not that gerard likes to quit, it is more his self sabotage habit. and this dates before the band. the new book release ‘where are your boys tonight’ features a story of gerard walking away from a comic opportunity to work on spiderman from before mcr. he had pretty much decided to walk away from the breakfast monkey before the company even made up their minds. he actually wanted to quit mcr after the first album and there is an interview where he mentions that ray helped convince him to stay. while he did pull off a solo album he did claim to be working on a second which he never followed through on. and these are just ones we know about.

fame is difficult and damaging, but it’s possible to have balance and healthy boundaries. and it also can’t be taken back.

the releasing things without promo really is a gerard insistence that i am not sure the rest of the band necessarily agrees with. i believe they do suprise releases to help hide behind the scenes chaos, short noticeness and allows them not to make any commitments until the last minute. look how frank and ls dunes are operating- they tell us when they write and record songs and when everything is going to be released. I think frank likes the certainty and commitment. it means they can’t cancel without consequences.

i fully agree with you that they would be taking a break anyways and need all the members to be on the same page. i’m just not sure gerard will ever be ready to go again unless he is successfully convinced. i think the bands future right now is uncertain, not decided. i bet warner brothers is pushing for an album and a lot of frank’s behaviour in ls dunes seems to be about egging gerard to continue on - like the look how lucky we are to tour with friends and have fun thing. i do believe gerard’s wife is against the band, and i would put money down that the weird behaviour on the lola account was her and related to this band tug or war thing.

but thank you for disagreeing with me kindly