#otp: i can’t breathe without you

[magicalandfullofhopes]

Watching Rivals and I can feel myself coming apart at the seams. This badly behaved man meets the most eldest daughter and listens to her? He changes his behavior when she tells him off?

Rupert notices how much labor Taggie does and is truly in awe of it? This man who uses sex and money to get his way is now reduced to Just staring longly at this girl every one overlooks. Going out of his way to just be in the same area as her? Is this a fantasy created just for me?

I can’t even start with the homegrown, organic yearning

[elizabethbennets]

Okay but I really need to talk about how Rupert went from sleaze to tender in 60 seconds flat. Like this man really went from being the most abhorrent rake to being unbelievably caring and gentle with her. This is what Taggie does to him. He comes home to an empty mansion, filling loss with sex and sport, and for once, he can see his reflection. He doesn’t like what he sees, and he wants to be whole. To fill the void in his life with someone good and compassionate and strong. And Taggie! No one sees her. She’s caretaker to her emotionally immature parents; her demeaning mother—and she gives and gives and receives nothing in return. Rupert sees her, though. He sees all of her, and he wants to be the one who takes care of her. Because no one looks for Taggie until Rupert does. He makes her bolder; brighter, and she makes him want to be a better man, erasing all of his edges. God I love them so much!!!

[baenakinskywalker]

wip wednesday 🙂

chapter 5 of hungry like the wolf will come after valentine’s day because i’m stuck at a work event until friday. so until this weekend or later, enjoy a lil snippet!

“Have you done this before, angel?” He’s not sure what he wants the answer to be. Would another man — boy, really — deserve to see Taggie on her knees? His fists clench, but something has him growing even harder. A primal need to be better than the rest, to prove to Taggie that sex in all its forms is more than just tolerable, more than lying back and thinking of England.

Taggie looks up at him through her lashes, and the sight — God. Her breathing has already picked up, the heave of her chest doing sinful things to her tits. “Yeah, ‘course I have.” She blinks. “Well, erm, once.”

“That’s good to know,” is all he can manage as she pulls the zip on his trousers down. “Just let me know if you want to stop — if it’s too much.”

She grins like she’s about to tell him not to be so full of himself, but then his cock is in front of her face, hard and thick, a clear bead already forming at the tip, and her mouth falls open. It’s going to take a lot not to let this go to his head. Rupert takes a steadying breath and threads a hand through her hair. “That’s step one, darling.”

He lets Taggie move toward him, his hand not guiding her at all. When her mouth wraps around the tip of his cock, it takes all of his restraint to be still, to let her move at her pace. Her tongue curls underneath his shaft, and the groan that slips from his lips is out of his control. Rupert imagines spilling himself down her throat, filling her — and then fucking her cunt and filling her again.

His hips stutter forward on instinct, and he has to exhale sharply to calm down. To remember that there will be time for that particular fantasy later, if all goes to plan. So he focuses on the way her lips stretch around his length, the way she looks up with those big blue eyes.

God, he’s going to have to start naming old horses in his head at the rate this is going.

[djarins-cyare]

Get to know your moots!

Thank you for the tag, @djarinmuse! I love these little questionnaires 😊. Challenging myself to be more succinct in my answers for once (yeeeah, don’t all hold your breath 😅)

What’s the origin of your blog title?

In a stunning lack of originality, I just used my writing pseudonym for my blog title: Jyar’ika. If it’s not obvious, that’s the Mando’a word cyar’ika (sweetheart) with a J for Jem replacing the C. It’s pronounced JAH-ree-kah, with emphasis on the first syllable (like Jessica or Erika). And on my sideblog, since it’s a rec blog, I’ve just titled it “Jyar’ika enjoyed…” because apparently WYSIWYG with me 🤗.

OTP(s) + shipname:

Oh man, there’ve been many over the years. I was an early X-Files fan, so MSR in real-time, of course. I shipped both Bangel and Spuffy at different points. Big on Polivia in the first few seasons of Fringe (when I discovered fanfiction existed). Fell completely down the fanfic rabbit hole with Carter/O’Neill from Stargate SG-1 (who unsatisfyingly never seemed to get a portmanteau ship name). Those are probably the main ones.

Favourite colour:

Teal; all shades thereof.

Favourite game:

It’s gotta be the old point n’ click PC games I played as a kid in the 90s, but I can’t pick one favourite. Big fan of the Monkey Island games, the Indiana Jones games, Maniac Mansion and Day of the Tentacle – basically anything LucasArts. Also, every game in the Broken Sword series, the Gabriel Knight series, and the Tex Murphy series. These are a fraction of the titles I played and loved.

Song stuck in your head:

I was doom-scrolling on Twitter the other day and saw (didn’t even hear!) a tweet saying Take That’s song ‘Shine’ was released 18 years ago, and it’s so iconic that my brain immediately played it to me. It’s been in there for days now! I was recently shocked and saddened to learn that most Americans don’t know about Take That 😱😭. I was never a massive fan or anything, but they are UK pop legends.

Weirdest habit/trait:

People at work think it’s weird that I don’t like speaking on the phone. If I have to have a phone call, I need to know what time it’ll be so I can prepare. But it’s because, without a visual of the other person, I find reading between the lines of neurotypical conversation more difficult. I can do it, but it’s an effort, and I need time to prepare for that kind of brain-taxing interaction.

Hobbies:

The Mandalorian, duh. Writing fics about it, mainly.

If you work, what’s your profession?

I’m in criminal law, basically doing the lawyers’ jobs for them because I have a critical eye for detail and can catch stuff they miss when preparing cases. But I never did my LPC, so I don’t have to go to court and do all the scary legal argument stuff. Win.

If you could have any job you wish, what would it be?

Author of a well-loved fiction series. I aim to make this happen one day, though at the rate I’m going, I’ll probably be retired when it finally happens! It comforts me to know that Douglas Adams always found writing to be a slow and arduous process, too.

Something you’re good at:

The English language, I guess. I have a good understanding of the technical side of writing.

Something you’re bad at:

In contrast to the above, the poetry of writing. I often struggle to ensure my writing is sufficiently dynamic and beautiful, and I have to go over things many times to try and inject more soul into my words. I’m glad I’m aware of this weakness, though – every day’s a school day, and there’s plenty of time and space to improve.

Something you love:

The Mandalorian, duh. Specifically Din Djarin.

Something you could talk about for hours off the cuff:

The Mandalorian, duh. Specifically Din Djarin.

Something you hate:

I try not to hate; this world needs more love. And if I can’t avoid hating, I do it quietly and won’t share it. So, I’ll pass on this question, thanks.

Something you collect:

Words. I love learning new ones. I love learning additional definitions and nuances of ones I already know. I can never have enough words.

Something you forget:

The time. Seriously, I have no sense of time whatsoever and am late for everything. I’ve just looked at the clock and realised it’s coming up 6:00am, and I haven’t gone to bed yet because I didn’t realise how late it is.

What’s your love language?

Of the five, mine is definitely the ‘acts of service’ one. I show love by trying to ease the burdens of others, and I feel loved when people do the same for me. At the other end of the scale is the ‘receiving gifts’ one… I can’t pick out gifts to save my life, and I always feel awkward receiving a gift I haven’t asked for and don’t need. Gifts are almost a hate language for me!

Favourite movie/show:

The Mandalorian, duh.

Favourite food:

I’m gonna say pizza. I don’t get to have it much anymore because I’m eating healthier these days, but I still indulge in the occasional Domino’s order.

Favourite animal:

Can I say Din Djarin when he’s been dosed with sex pollen? 😏

Are you musical?

I guess this is a yes because I’ve played a variety of musical instruments since the age of 5 (starting with the humble recorder, then violin, piano, guitar and other random stuff like the harmonica and ukulele) and was in choirs for the whole of my childhood and adolescence. I performed in several big shows, including a performance at the Royal Albert Hall of Carl Orff’s Carmina Burana (even if you don’t know the name, you’ll likely know one particular movement of the cantata; it’s been overused in ads, etc). But it’s been years since I played or sang anything, so maybe notsomuch anymore.

What were you like as a child?

As a very young child: unknowingly autistic. This mainly manifested in me ruining family vacations by refusing to step foot on a beach if there was any sign of seaweed, or enter a restaurant with ceiling fans, or get in a swimming pool if there was a mosaic on the pool floor. Anything outside my regular routine was terrifying to me, but nobody knew about autism in the 80s, so my parents just thought I was overly sensitive. I learned how to mask pretty early, though, so by the time I went to school, I’d figured out how to fit in. Despite that, I was always the kid who had intense hyperfixations (boys, TV shows, bands, hobbies). I still am, really!

Favourite subject at school?

English literature. Fiction was (and still is) my happy place. I also had a massive crush on my maths teacher when I was 13-14, so I was a maths nerd for a whole year. I still remember the quadratic equation!

Least favourite subject?

Religious education. It was the one subject I failed my exams in, mainly because I’m an atheist, and as a kid, I couldn’t see the point of learning about something I didn’t believe in. Later, I realised that exploring different worldviews helps us better understand ourselves and how to respect and appreciate diversity, so as an adult, I’ve made an effort to make up for my childish ignorance by learning as much as possible.

What’s your best character trait?

My autism. It heightens my attention to detail and makes me especially concerned about others’ happiness and well-being.

What’s your worst character trait?

My autism. It frustrates neurotypicals who don’t understand why I act or respond in particular ways.

If you could change any detail of your day right now, what would it be?

I would’ve gone to bed earlier. It’s 6:31am, and I’m tired.

If you could travel in time, who would you like to meet?

I’m not interested in going backwards, so nobody really. I’d probably go forward simply to check that the world didn’t end and that the USA didn’t turn into the Free American Independent Theocratic Hegemony (F.A.I.T.H.) or anything. (That’s a Bobiverse reference for anyone who’s never read Dennis E. Taylor… which, TBF, is probably most of you since his novels are pretty niche. I recommend reading them, though – super fun and packed with geeky pop culture references).

Recommend one of your favourite fanfics (spread the love!):

I finally got around to reading You Were Marked by @handspunyarns last week, and let me tell you, I could not stop binging it. It’s been a long time since I was last addicted to a fic to this degree. I’d had it on my TBR list for a while, but I’d prioritised others because I wasn’t sure if it would resonate with me since I don’t see any of myself in the main character… but boy, was I wrong! It’s extraordinary, compelling, and at times heartbreaking and agonising, but so well-written with exquisite worldbuilding and a daringly original plot, all of which seared it into my mind forever because I’ve never read anything like it. I implore you all to try it if you haven’t already. It’s a masterpiece 💜.

I usually check to see if the people I tag have already done the game, but I’ve really gotta sleep, so I’m just gonna tag at random here. I’m really sorry if any of you have done this already.

@604to647 @cheekychaos28 @cw80831 @darthbeebles @desert-fern

@dindenimchicken @frickatives @here-briefly @ishabull @jessthebaker

@lilac-boo @mosssbawls @nervoushottee @papurgaatika @qunariagenda

@roughdaysandart @the-color-is-black @the-mandawhor1an @toomanytookas @zaddymandalorian

[yunyun160]

Get to know your mutuals!

Thank you, @lepplum, for giving me an English test. 🤣

What's the origin of your blog title?  Mm, it’s simple—this is my nickname + height lollll

OTP(s) + Shipname: My favorite is Crosstech, but recently Jessix suddenly crashed into my life, and I have no idea what happened.

Favorite color: Orange-yellow

Favorite game: The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild I like it so much that I don't even want to finish the game because I don't want it to end.

Song stuck in your head: I keep thinking about Mayday... it's really sad.

Weirdest habit/trait? I'm not sure if this counts, but I have a habit of folding tissues or receipts into squares.

Hobbies: I try to develop different interests at different stages, but drawing has always been my favorite.

If you work, what's your profession? I work in marketing planning. I originally wanted to pursue a career related to design, but sadly, the salary in this field is not high in our country.

If you could have any job you wish, what would it be?  I want to become a botanist or an animal photographer, observing nature and discovering the wonders of this world.

Something you're good at: Drawing

Something you're bad at: I will go crazy when I see any long and complicated rules.

Something you love:  Close my eyes and listen to the sound of the wind rustling through the falling leaves.

Something you hate： I hate arguments and the complicated calculations of interpersonal relationships.

Something you collect： I collect tickets, such as movie tickets and train tickets from the trips I've taken.

Something you forget:  I’m the worst at remembering character names lolllll. Sometimes, I finish an entire show and still can’t remember what their names are.

What's your love language? ...What's love language?

Favorite movie/show: Spider-Man: Into the Spider-Verse

Favorite food: Egg tart

Favorite animal: Wolf

What were you like as a child? I was more introverted, but I would actively seek out quieter children to play with. I liked playing video games and reading comics, and I was more androgynous.

Favorite subject at school? Subjects without exams.

Least favorite subject: Chemistry, too many technical terms and rules to memorize.

What's your best character trait? It should be respect and tolerance. Everyone has different likes and ways of doing things, and there's no need to force everyone to be the same.

What's your worst character trait?  I have overly rich emotions, and most of the time, I suppress them and let them build up, eventually hurting the people closest to me.

If you could change any detail of your life right now, what would it be?  Slow down. I know you're passionate about practicing and improving, but life still goes on. Your lack of sleep is already affecting your daily life.

If you could travel in time, who would you like to meet?  I wish I could see my grandmother one last time and tell her how much I love her. If possible, I would love to taste her cooking again, because no one else can make it the way she did. Occasionally, I can still smell the fragrance on her clothes, and I'll never know what brand it was.

Tag as many mutuals as you want!! @letshareapapou

[mollywog]

I wish you would write a fic where your OTP finds themselves in an office romance! The kind that starts as a petty grievance and annoyance that is actually attraction at its core... 🔥

Katniss’s laughter ceases as her eyes land on the form in the break room door. She frowns down to her sandwich calculating how quickly she can politely scarf down the rest of her lunch and slip away.

“You alright?” Rue, the new hire she’s training, asks.

Looks like it’s too late for inconspicuous. “Fine,” her voice comes out like a chirp, too high and short.

Unfortunately it catches Johanna’s attention who quickly spies the source of her distress. Smirking at Katniss, she calls out for the intruder to join them.

Damn her!

“I just can’t stand that guy,” Katniss grumbles under her breath to Rue who’s still looking concerned.

“Peeta?” Rue’s head swings between her and the approaching man. “Really? He seems so nice. He was practically gushing about you when I shadowed him last week.”

Katniss scrunches her nose. There’s no way to get more information about what he might have said about her without attracting additional attention, so she shrugs it off, “it’s all part of his act.” Peeta Mellark was nice… too nice… suspiciously nice if you asked her. Her coworkers had all fallen under his spell, but Katniss wouldn’t. “He’s a huge dick.”

“Does he?” Johanna says with faux innocence.

Katniss face heats and she stares down at her lunch, taking a bite of her sandwich to avoid the obligatory greetings.

It usually wasn’t an issue avoiding him. They worked 2 days out, 3 days in the office on opposite schedules, only overlapping on Wednesday when she’d eat elsewhere to avoid him. But with training Rue she’d needed to be in the office everyday and had been seeing him more.

“Anyone want some cookies? Fresh from last night.” He passes the container around the table before siting in the empty seat across from her. Katniss let’s the Tupperware pass without even looking. “You sure you don’t want one, there’s plenty,” he says upon noticing.

Why couldn’t he leave well enough alone? He was just calling unnecessary attention to her. And why? Because she didn’t accept his cookie? Big deal! The man clearly had a fragile ego. “I don’t really like sweets,” she lies, as if she isn’t harboring two half finished pints of ice cream in her freezer right now.

‘Oh.” His smile falters, “do you prefer savory them?”

“More like; She’s looking for something unsavory,” Johanna quips. Finnick cackles and her cheeks turn a crimson. She should have never told Johanna about that stupid dream.

She doesn’t look at Peeta to notice his flushed cheeks as well. Instead she shoves her chair back abruptly, grabbing her bag and the remainder of her sandwich. “I forgot about a phone I need to make. I’ll see you guys later,” she says before making a hasty retreat. Ugh! She really can’t stand that guy.

[eddiediazismyhusband]

I want to share my thoughts on the current situation with Buddie. Buck has feelings for Eddie, but if Eddie says once again that he is straight and just wants to remain friends without love, then that's a real problem for Buck. If this happens, I want Eddie to leave forever and never come back, and perhaps their friendship will be over. I find platonic friendship boring, and Buck deserves to move on with a new love. I wonder if he will ever be able to let go of his feelings for Eddie. The current storyline and the show are disappointing, and I'm tired of the writers keeping us in the dark for 7 years. I wish Tim, Oliver, or Ryan would tell us that Buddie is not happening so we can move on with our lives and be at peace. But unfortunately, they remain silent.

I’m afraid I have to disagree… I don’t think Tim would go the unrequited route because for as awful as some of his plots have been, I genuinely doubt he would be that stupid. I genuinely think that it’s either going to be all or nothing, and based on what we’ve heard/seen… i’m leaning towait being nothing yet again.

I don’t find platonic friendships boring per se, but we already have multiple close, platonic male/male friendships on the show that this whole narrative of “buck and eddie are a beacon of how important it is to have that person to rely on as a friend” kind of falls flat for me bc we see it in so many other characters dynamics.

Unfortunately… I do think that the writers are going to frame it that way again- considering every time they’ve seemingly “set up” buddie in recent years, all it’s done is led to that same “oh you’re my bestie and that’s important” narrative that has gotten so boring to see.

Eddie is my favorite character. I don’t want to see him written off because that would probably be the last straw to make me never watch the show again. I’d much rather have him there and just friends w buck like we have for years than to not have him at all- yeah it sucks not to see my otp going canon, but i’d rather them not and still be able to keep the current dynamic in canon than for them to just completely write it off for good.

Anyway… I agree, the writing/plots since tim have come back have just been a mess, and i wish more people would consider that when theorizing/speculating about the future, but unfortunately more humans are optimists than pessimists, so regardless, they’re going to give TM the benefit of the doubt.

Unfortunately, I don’t think tim would risk that bargaining chip of being able to continue baiting buddie by saying for sure that they aren’t going canon bc he knows people will continue falling for it… and as for rg and oliver- i don’t think they would be allowed to say anything, and so they try to say it in different ways, but since they can’t say anything directly their words get misconstrued in the completely opposite direction (case and point, jeff conway taking rg saying that buck and eddie’s platonic connection is important and turning it into this constant tease on his socials so that people continue clicking his article bc the wording was vague enough to inject a pro-buddie point of view into them)

i’m gonna say what i always do- we won’t know until it happens, and i hope i’m proven wrong and we get very very pleasantly surprised, but i’m not gonna hold my breath for it

thank you for the ask!! (apologies that it took so long for me to reply)

[baronessblixen]

On My Way To You

Season 6, angst(ish). They're driving and Scully is thinking about things. Like getting out of the car or not getting out of the car.

Wc: 1,597.

(written for Year of the OTP. The words I used for March are: road trip, fresh starts, acceptance)

Tagging @today-in-fic

There are no road signs to determine where they’re going. It’s just like Scully wanted it to be. She glances to her side where Mulder is fast asleep, his body at a strange angle. The sight puts a smile on her face, despite knowing he will complain about a crick in his neck later when he wakes up. Her hand flies to her own neck where the tension sits, spreading out. For once, it’s not a case. For once, they haven’t had to risk their health or their lives. A run-of-the-mill case, the only oddness its ordinariness.

Earlier, when she said she wanted to drive, Mulder handed over the keys without a single complaint. Long gone are the days where he shot her a questioning look, reluctant to part with the keys. Or maybe he’s noticed her subdued mood, her clipped answers. How often she’s stared into the distance these last few days, her thoughts everywhere except with their case. If he did notice, he didn’t mention it. But he let her drive, leaning his head against the headrest, and closing his eyes. Trusting her.

“What if we take a little detour?” She asked as they passed the town sign, half hoping he was already asleep.

“Hm?” He replied and by the rustling she heard, she knew he had turned his head to her. “Where are we going?”

She took her time answering, staring straight ahead. “I don’t know,” she said truthfully.

“Okay,” was all Mulder said. “Wake me if you get tired.”

“I won’t.”

He made a non-committal noise before he touched her thigh. She didn’t startle, his touch and his warmth welcome. “Wake me,” he said again. “I want to know where we end up.” He grinned at her before he resumed his original position.

That was hours ago, and they haven’t said a word since. Mulder’s breathing is even; she’s glad he’s catching up on sleep, knowing he never gets enough. For a while, she listens to the radio. First a classic rock station, then classical music. If only her mind wasn’t so loud. She tries to drown out the voices that keep chattering. The scenes that keep repeating.

It happened last weekend. The moment she can’t stop thinking about. She knew something was different the second she walked into her mother’s house. The uneasiness stayed with her as she took off her coat, as her mother kissed her cheek, smiling so hard that her cheeks were red.

“I have a surprise for you,” she’d said and that’s when Scully knew for certain. The surprise wasn’t her brother Bill, who was standing in the kitchen with a beer, talking to another man and laughing. A knot appeared in her stomach and as if sensing her uneasiness, her mother took her hand and squeezed it.

“Dana,” she said. “This is Brandon.”

“Hi,” he said, grinning at her with perfect teeth.

“Hello,” she mumbled like a grumpy teenager forced to join the family downstairs.

“Brandon goes to my church and he’s- oh well, you two can talk amongst yourself!” She pushed Dana towards him and as if on cue, Bill Jr. nodded at the other man and walked out of the kitchen, leaving her and the stranger alone.

“I thought you knew,” Brandon said, sounding apologetic. “Your mother said you were, um, single. That you were looking for a fresh start, just like me. She said we should… meet. She didn’t tell you?”

“She didn’t.”

“Does that mean you’re not single?” The corners of his lips twitched, showing his disappointment.

“I’m…”

“She’s single,” Bill Jr. waltzed back in, exchanging his empty beer bottle with a fresh one. He offered another one to Brandon, too, who declined. He didn’t ask his sister and instead grinned at her. “Right, Dana? You’re single. You’re not married. There’s no one in your life. There’s just… your work.”

Fuck you, she thought. She would have said it if it hadn’t been for Brandon standing there.

“Brandon, tell her about yourself. You’re gonna love this, Dana.”

“I’m a veterinarian,” Brandon said, uncertainty in his voice. “I have a five-year-old daughter called Emily and-“

“Thank you, Brandon,” Scully said, tears stinging her eyes. Her brother was still grinning, making her wonder how he could be this cruel. For the first time ever since they were children, she felt violent towards him.

“That’s exactly what you want, isn’t it?” Bill Jr. kept going as if Brandon wasn’t there. “You want a family.”

“I came here to have dinner with my mom,” she said, turning to Brandon. “I’m sorry you were caught up in this.”

“Mom was trying to do you a favor.”

“It was nice to meet you, Brandon,” Scully said, ignoring her brother. Bill Jr. was on her heels when she fled the kitchen.

“Where are you going?”

“To tell mom I’m leaving.”

“You can’t just go.”

“Watch me.”

“Dana?” Her mother came into view, her eyes darting between her two children. “You’re leaving? I know, I know. I should have told you about Brandon. Bill said it would be better as a surprise.”

“Thank you, mom,” she said, hugging her mother. Despite everything, her mother’s arms felt safe and comforting. She squeezed her eyes shut, tightening her arms around her mother. “I can’t stay. I can’t-“

“You’re throwing everything away, Dana. First your career, now you’re running away. Why don’t you get to know Brandon first? He has a child, a stable job. You have to accept that you can’t go on like this. Risking your health and… Brandon wants to settle down.”

“But I don’t.” The moment she said it she realized it was true. When she said to Mulder that she wanted to get out of the car, she didn’t envision what her family so obviously envisioned for her. She thought she did. Only then did she understand that it wasn’t at all what she wanted. She didn’t want a Brandon, a ready-made family. As easy as it sounded. All she wanted, what she imagined was sharing her life with someone, going home with…

Mulder. It all came back to Mulder.  

Thinking back to that night, to leaving her mother there in the door, to her own realization, she has to fight back tears. Her mother has tried calling, has tried to apologize. Scully promised to call her back as soon as she got back home. Except that she doesn’t want to get back home, not yet. Maybe Mulder had the right idea all along. Keep going, keep driving.

“Are we there yet?” Mulder asks sleepily as if her thoughts have woken him up.

“Did I wake you?” She asks.

“My neck hurts,” he complains. “Where are we?”

“I have no idea. Does it matter?”

“You would tell me if something was the matter, right? I mean if it was something serious. Like… like what was wrong last year.” She hears the concern in his voice and feels his eyes on the side of her face.

“It’s not the cancer, Mulder. You can stop worrying about that.”

“So, this is just a regular road trip, huh? You won’t hear me complain. Kersh might but that makes it all the more exciting, doesn’t it?” He chuckles. “But I’m also here, you know,” he says, his voice gentler, the humor gone. “If you want to talk about whatever is making you go over the speed limit.”

“I’m not – oh.” She stares at the numbers there and takes her foot off the gas pedal until she’s just under the speed limit again. Mulder cracks open a sunflower seed, and the familiar noise helps her breathe more easily. She sees it now, what Mulder meant by saying that this is a life. It is their life. She doesn’t know about him, but she wouldn’t want to do this with anyone else. She touches her neck, where the tension begins to ease.  

“Your neck giving you trouble too?” Mulder asks, as perceptive as ever.

“Just a bit,” she assures him. “We’ve been driving for a while.”

“Do you want me to take over?”

“No, I’m fine.”

“Scully, it’s been hours. You must be tired.”

“I’m not.” That at least is not a lie, but Mulder’s eyes remain on her. She feels how worried he is, how much he wants to know what’s bothering her.

“At this rate,” he says, cracking another seed, “we could end up in Vegas. What do you think, Scully? Want to gamble away all your savings?”

“Maybe another time,” she says, a smile tugging at her lips. She’s thankful for the change in topic and Mulder’s attempt at humor.

“We could go see Elvis,” he goes on. “Or do you want to get married?”

He asks in jest. Of course, he does. And yet, and yet. Her heart leaps, her mind reels. What if? They’d still do this. Spend too many hours in cars, run into the darkness, and try to find the truth. But at the end of it all, they’d go home together, tear down that last wall between them, and share all of each other. Her mouth feels dry. She doesn’t want to get out of the car. She wants to stay in the car and keep doing this. With Mulder. Why not choose forever?

“Maybe I do,” she says, shooting him a look. She doesn’t expect the small smile around his lips. He doesn’t look surprised, no, he looks happy. He looks as if he’s been waiting for her answer for years.

“Then keep driving, G-Woman,” he says.

[hetalianskywalker]

Day 5: Two Siren Songs

Pairing: Siren Fives x Siren Reader

Summary: You hear a siren’s song. Being a siren yourself, it shouldn’t affect you. However, it draws you in.

Author’s Note: The moment I started planning this AU out I saw this man as a Siren. Also, sorry that it’s shorter than usual, but I think it works.

Warnings: Once again, there is reference to sirens eating people.

Word Count: 485

Prompt: It was rumored that a siren could only be drawn in by another siren if they were destined by fate to be together. Character A is a siren that traded their tail for legs years ago, but then hears a beautiful voice from the ocean, telling them to go back.

Prompt from Mermaid AU’s for OTPs by auideas

After all the continued unrest with the New Mer, Death Watch, and the True Mer, along with there being no active Sea Alor, you had given up on your people. You had once been a Mer or more specifically a siren. The downside to being a member of the Mer is that you can’t live without the ocean for long. While selkies were prone to longing and depression when they could not return, the rest of the species would start by feeling glass in their feet before slowly withering away.

You traded your ability to shift for permanent legs and a body that never tired of the land. The only thing you kept that still made you not quite human were your voice; your ability to summon your sharp claws and teeth had faded over time.

You do miss the ocean sometimes and still choose to live in a village close to the sea. One night as you prepare for sleep, a faint song filtered into your window. Half enrolled, your feet begin to follow it out of your house and toward the beach.

“This shouldn’t be possible.” You think aloud before your eyes grow wide. “Unless…” Then your running after the song.

Don’t go. You think over and over, praying to whatever ocean diety might still remain. A siren could not drawn in my the song of another unless they were destined to be. You had always thought it was an old myth whispered in Mando’a between sirens.

You’re close enough to hear the words now as you run along the sand. His voice sings of returning to the ocean and going home. Had you always wanted that somewhere deep down?

Your feet stop when you see him. He’s sitting on a rock in the distance and your eyes well with tears. Once your catch your breath, you summon all the magic you can and feel the song course through you. You never really hear the desires of the person on the other end unless you truly focus; most sirens don’t because it becomes harder to eat a human when you know their deepest desire.

This time, of course, you truly focus. A dream of victory and freedom for himself and an army of brothers; it’s melancholy, but beautiful. Becoming lost in the song, you close your eyes at some point. Calloused hands gently cup your face and the song dies on your lips.

“You were brought in by my song, mesh’la?” While he’s in awe, the flirty undertone makes you blush slightly. Your eyes scan over his face, knowing immediately he was a Mer clone. You linger on his goatee and the tattoo on his temple before meeting his eyes.

“Just as you were brought in by mine.” You tease in return, leaning into his touch. He chuckles before leaning his forehead against yours and you both stay like that a long time.

[hlizr50]

Fic prompts you say?????????

#12 for Gwynthan please.

I know you are skeptical, but this is my chance to convince you!

My OTP.

I’m doing this because I love you, and I can’t deny that these two would be disgustingly adorable and supportive of each other.

Word Count: 750

Pairing: Gwyneth Berdara/Ithan Holstrom

Prompt: “H-how long have you been standing there?” - “Long enough.” (I adjusted it a tiny tiny bit based on what I’d written.)

~~~

She ran a thumb over the cerulean stone, her reflection distorted over the smooth surface. While her evenings had become more restful over the years, the training ring was still her solace. It was a place where she’d grown strong, in body and mind and soul, empowered by the people who had become her family.

The Valkyries had outgrown the training ring at the House, though they still used it for any priestesses who still dared not venture out into the world. Which was why Gwyn could sit with her legs dangling over the railing, enjoying the peace and quiet of the winter afternoon.

Perhaps she wasn’t enjoying it, exactly. Perhaps she was more… hiding.

Another year.

The invoking stone was a lead weight in her palm, and she dropped her hands into her lap under its burden. Gwyn had never worn it as a priestess, though she couldn’t bear the thought of letting it go. Cat would have been an incredible priestess; devoted and compassionate and gentle. The redhead knew, now, that it had never been her destiny to remain hidden in the pale blue robes of the Mother. It had never been her call to remain huddled and hushed in the library.

Gwyn’s purpose was to be strong. To empower others who had been wounded to do the same. It had taken a long time, but she was finally proud of who she was, the warrior she had become.

But that didn’t make days like these any easier.

“Happy birthday, Cat,” she whispered into the winter chill, eyelashes fluttering to cool the burning in her eyes. Would it still hurt this much a decade from now? A century? Gods, she hoped not.

“I think you’d be proud of me,” she continued. Sometimes it was nice to talk to her like she was right there. “I try to help people who don’t know how to fight back. I’d like to think that—“ she sniffled, losing the battle against her pooling tears “—that I’m making sure that what happened to us doesn’t happen to anyone else. I just wish… I just wish it wasn’t too late to save you.”

The breeze was frigid against the dampness on her cheeks, and seeped through her leggings as if they were made of nothing more than lace. But she barely noticed, falling into the chasm that still remained in the wake of her twin’s death. Her head dropped, suddenly to heavy, and her drooping shoulders shook with the force of her grief.

Still.

“I’m so sorry, Cat,” she whimpered between ragged breaths. “I love you. I miss you so much. Nothing is the same without you.”

Suddenly she was wrapped in an embrace, two warm, strong arms banding around her and pulling her into the warmth of a broad chest. Then there was a kiss to her cheek, capturing one of her many falling tears.

“You do help people. Every day. It’s incredible to witness.” The gentleness of the voice made her slump in the comforting arms of the man who had become so dear to her. Ithan Holstrom was always so forthcoming with his feelings, unafraid to be vulnerable and honest if it meant earning Gwyn’s trust. She couldn’t thank the Mother enough for connecting their worlds, though the resulting conflict had been horrifying and bloody.

“H-how long have you been listening?”

Ithan sighed at her back, his exhale pulling her further into him. She didn’t want him to let go, and it seemed like the feeling was blessedly mutual.

“Long enough,” he whispered, his breath tickling the shell of her ear. “Your sister would be immensely proud of you. Just like I am. In fact, from what you’ve told me, the only thing that would upset her is the fact that you still hurt so much, and you exile yourself to a secluded roof to try to handle it alone.”

Gwyn squeezed her eyes shut, a desperate attempt to halt the fresh wave of tears from his heartfelt words.

Ithan released her from his grasp, but only long enough to step to her side and tilt her chin up toward him. His kiss was so warm and tender, protecting her from the winter chill.

“You’ll catch your death out here, Freckles,” he murmured. “Come inside. We’ll cuddle in front of the fire and I’ll tell you more about Connor.”

Connor. The brother he’d lost. His own nightmarish night, a world away.

Just another reason Ithan understood her better than anyone else.

[wanderingaldecaldo]

Some time ago, @marine-123 asked for cuddling in bed after a tiring day from the Soft OTP prompts, and who am I to deny them some cuddling in bed?

V finds Rosalind in one of the overstuffed armchairs in the residential study, head down with the latest FIA report, but she glances up with a smile at V’s approach. When V takes position behind the chair, her hands seeking the usual knots, Rosalind sighs and leans into the touch, and the tablet slips from her fingers and drops to her lap.

“Gotta be done by now. Can’t much happened since this afternoon.”

Snorting, Rosalind pulls one of V’s hands to her mouth, pressing a kiss to her palm. “Darling, things can change before I finish reading a report. But you’re right, these are low priority items.”

“If they’re low priority, means they can wait, right? Think you could use a break.”

Rosalind scoffs as V resumes her work. “Keep that up and I’ll have no choice.”

“Might as well give up now,” V says with a grin. “’Sides, can do a better job in bed.”

Rosalind’s rich laugh fills the study, and she shakes her head as she smirks up at V. “Should have known you had an ulterior motive.”

V stills her hands and screws up her face in wounded affectation. “So I can continue in a comfier spot, plus we can watch your housewives shit.”

“And drink a bottle of wine?”

V leans down to kiss her cheek. “Of course. Red or white?”

Rosalind stretches in her chair then stands. “Do we still have that chardonnay in the fridge?”

They stop by the small kitchen to grab the bottle of wine. When she picks out the proper glasses on the first try, Rosalind’s lips curl in approval and her cheeks flush. When she manages to open the bottle without looking like a gonk, she can hardly breathe from the pride radiating from Rosalind’s face, eyes sparkling and smile wide.

The screen lights up the bedroom room in a blue glow as it powers on and V leans back against the plush fabric of the headboard as she finds the channel. After changing into a tee and shorts made of real cotton, Rosalind climbs into bed and settles in her lap. She grabs her glass and relaxes into V’s embrace.

V tucks her head into Rosalind’s neck, eyes squeezing shut, chest tightening as unnamed emotions bubble up. She doesn’t want to face them so she turns, opens her eyes and focuses on the screen. While they still don’t have any labels for what this is between them, Ros cares about her and that’s enough. More than enough.

The President's Merc AU

Soft OTP Prompts

Still have a few prompts in the inbox but always happy for more!

[streakyglasses]

#18 on the Sleepy OTP Promps plsss!

hi, dear! thank you for your patience on this; i hope you enjoy!!

god it's just not fair of him (to make me feel this much)

also on ao3 and ffn!

The house is small, but it’s his. 

Theirs, really, counting Luca. And really, really, it’s Luca’s name on all the paperwork. But, okay, for all intents and purposes, the house is his. The water always stays hot through his entire show, and natural light gleams in over the hardwood as long as the sun is in the sky. The walls are thin but safe—a welcome embrace after long shifts and hard days. Every square foot is a tangible piece that he’s slowly learning he doesn’t have to white-knuckle because he isn’t going to lose it. 

So, yes. It’s small, but it’s his, and it’s perfect. 

And then he spends the night with Chris in his arms. 

He realizes quickly that he had no clue what perfect was. 

Her skin is warmer and softer than cloud nine, and he takes a deep breath of her sweet, musky scent and sinks further into his newfound bliss. Before she even flutters her lashes open or turns to give him the most beautiful smile he’s ever seen, he knows he wants to wake up to her for the rest of his life. And then she does, and he ghosts kisses over her forehead and cheekbones and lips. That’s perfect.

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

Months later, Chris starts to slip from the bed like she always does on Street’s off days; quick and quiet, and without letting too much cold air underneath the covers. She still remembers the relief of not having to be up at 4:30, of waking surrounded by warm covers and just getting to burrow in deeper, and she does her best to make sure that he gets all the sleep he can. 

If only he’d stop throwing wrenches in her plan. 

“No,” he murmurs, once her legs are dangling off the side of the bed, his fingers clutching her worn t-shirt. His voice is somewhere between groggy and whiny and her lips tug upwards into a gentle, sympathetic smile. When she slots her fingers in-between his, her body immediately settles like a puzzle piece that’s found its match.

“I have to get ready for work,” she whispers back, thumb brushing over his. He shakes his head and gives an even more grumbled voice to his displeasure, and then shifts closer until his head is almost on her pillow and his arm cages her in completely. 

“You’re the boss. You can go in when you want.” 

Her eyes roll but she can’t deny how comfortable the weight of his arm is and how much she wants to slip her legs back under the covers and tangle them with his. Still, old habits and new responsibilities. 

“I’m not the boss,” she counters, holding back the urge to turn and run a hand through his hair. “And Paloma has an appointment at 8:30, so I have to get there by 8.” 

She hears him lift his head up and can picture his expression—eyes narrowed in contemplation and mouth open before he captures his bottom lip with his teeth. The look burrows underneath her skin.

“That’s in two hours.” 

Sighing, she shakes her head but it’s a sweet kind of exasperation that fills her stomach, the kind that makes her wonder what she did to deserve him. Sunlight hasn’t even started to slip in through the blinds yet and there’s no early morning birdsong from the backyard. Even Duke seems to still be asleep. 

“Yeah, but I have to shower and get ready.” She says, though the conviction in her tone is waning, and he snuggles even closer. 

“Takes thirty minutes.” 

“And I have to make breakfast.” 

“Breakfast burritos in the freezer.” 

“Well—” but she can feel how dry the straws are that she’s grasping at. Can feel his hot breath on her wrist bone. “Traffic?” 

“You don’t even take the freeway.” 

He’s right. It would maybe be infuriating if she wasn’t so damn content. 

Maybe old habits only die hard if you let them, she thinks. The low humming noise of her thoughts catches his attention. 

“What’s that, Babe?” 

“Nothing,” she huffs, swinging her legs back onto the mattress and pulling the covers up to her chest, just underneath his arm. “Scooch over.” 

A half-cocked smile graces his lips, just one shallow dimple barely visible in the darkness, and he shuffles back to his side of the bed but keeps her t-shirt loose in his hand. Underneath the warmth of the blankets once more, she takes a deep breath as all the tension drains from her muscles. One of her ankles locks with his and her ear is flush against his steady heartbeat, arms holding one another close. 

“Happy?” She whispers. 

He kisses her forehead and nestles further into her, balancing just on the edge of falling back asleep. 

“Mmhmm. Perfect.” 

[elizabethbennets]

Literally cannot stop thinking about Rupert and Taggie I am not okay over here!!!!!

[solar-nightengale]

I'M FINALLY HERE please bear with me as I send everything but uuuuuh 11 from the more domestic prompts post with the betrothed idiots (about, of course, the splendid babygirl 💗)

HIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII I am SO sorry for the wait on these BUT we’re finally getting on through them with time!! >:))))

You’re getting like… max fun here for the most part!! For once there’s little angst BJSGHDKL Enjoy some shenanigans <3333

domestic OTP with children prompts

#11 - "Where is [child's name]?" "I thought you had them!"

Well that was a smooth market experience, Lampwick thought to himself as he trudged back towards the town’s large well. No haggling, everything obtained—even the shit Pinocchio said not to get but hey who said he needed to know? One extra bottle of mead won’t kill a man! So with his secret stash hidden away in the saddlebag Iskra was carrying on her back, he waved over at Pinocchio as he reached their spot, holding the basket up proudly.

He was so glad that the other was already there. Which meant the next thing on their list would be lunch. Something he was dying to have at this point. It had taken several slaps to his wrist both from his mind chastising him and Iskra’s wings to stop from buying anything extra just to have it by the time, so seeing Pinocchio present already was nothing short of a relief. The divines were gracious on him today!

His love smiled softly but his gaze wavered between the bags on the pony and then back to the red-head. He almost thought that the man had developed some sort of secret magical ability since he last saw him that he saw right through the bag given his smile growing smaller; but that was until the question rang out:

“Where is Bethan?” he asked, Lampwick frowning.

He looked behind him at Iskra then around realising that the small child was nowhere to be seen.

“I thought you had her!” Lampwick pointed.

In a blink of an eye Pinocchio’s smile vanished. “What?”

Oh that’s not good.

“… Last I saw her was with you.” he insisted slowly, Pinocchio shaking his head.

“She was following you!”

“No?!” ‘Least he didn’t remember her following him. He clicked his tongue as he glanced around again before turning back to his fiancé, whose frown lines were starting to look more and more defined. Something that’s become a near daily occurrence when it came to the little tyke.

“….Shit. Did we manage to lose our daughter?” Lampwick asked, Pinocchio cursing under his breath.

“Damn it. Bethan?!” the brunette shouted, “Bethan!”

“If she hadn’t run over already she probably isn’t nearby!” Lampwick pointed out, ignoring the couple that watched them curiously as they passed by.

Pinocchio shook his head and groaned. “You go left and I right! And see if Iskra can’t find her elsewhere. I’m not leaving this marketplace without finding the kid!”

Ever the child, the red-head pouted and blew out a raspberry. “Damn, that’s a shame and here I hoped for an early dinner tonight.” He held his hands up in mock surrender at the look his man gave him, just about to walk off when-

“Wish for it no longer.”

Stepping out of the crowd was the bartender carrying one small girl who sat at his hips with her odd-coloured eyes bright. She already had a sandwich on her… something Lampwick couldn’t help but envy.

Pinocchio on the other hand let out a noise in relief as he walked over “Eugene! Oh thank the ancients!” he held his arms out, the kid stuffing the sandwich between her teeth and reached out, eagerly letting the woodcarver take her. The man bounced her against his side, adjusting his hold on her so it was more comfortable. “Are you alright?”

“She’s fine, she was with me until now.” Eugene spoke up, Beth giving a very enthusiastic nod of agreement before taking another bite.

“How so?” Lampwick chipped in, smirking as he wiggled his fingers up at the kid and her little snack, successfully making her squeak as she pulled her food and whole self back.

“Walked into the inn, said she lost both of you.” Eugene explained, standing remotely still in the wake of the woodcarver’s struggle.

Pinocchio grunted between reaching out to cup the back of the kid’s head as she leaned further back against his hold. “Oh that’s good-”

“But that was after she tried to steal the cheese form one of the tables our customers were sitting at in an attempt to get my attention.” the man continued and Pinocchio’s brows shot up in surprise.

Lampwick choked back a laugh, hiding it as a cough the second the woodcarver glanced over. Bethan had soon started giggling as well, but it too quickly silenced by the look Pinocchio gave her. The child shrunk down mumbling an “I’m sorry” into the last couple of bites of sandwich she was holding and refused to meet the man’s eye any longer. Pinocchio sighed quietly as his expression softened and he combed a hand through her hair and settled it on the small of her back, hugging the child closer. Wick watched the kid relax, pouting all the same as she lay her chin on the woodcarver’s shoulder and wrapped her free around around his neck. The red-head smiled, gently ruffling her head from behind the woodcarver as the man spoke.

“Thank you for keeping an eye on her, Eugene.”

“It’s no trouble. Good on her to show up there instead of continuing to wander around.” Eugene shrugged.

“Yeah for sure.”

“I’d best get going. See you guys around.” The man huffed as he stepped back and moved into the crowd.

Lampwick had to pull his hand back rapidly at the speed the child shot her head up, just barely hitting Pinocchio’s head in the process.

“Bye misser Gene!” she called out and gave the man a wave, Eugene looking back and giving her a short one in return.

Pinocchio set the toddler down, letting her take his hand before grabbing the second basket they had brought with them and set off. Lampwick fell into step with the other man, a cheeky grin plastered on his face as he winked down at the toddler next to them. She was quick to reach up and out for his wrist, the red-head relenting and letting her take it as he huffed.

“Guess there’s some perks of showing her the tavern.” Lampwick grinned, his smile only widening when Pinocchio looked back at him, still unamused.

“Yes. Very.” Came the curt response, but the smirk refused to leave the man’s face. “But let’s not teach our child to pick pocket for attention, yeah?”

“Hey it worked wonders last time, so she may as well keep at it!” Lampwick chuckled, even as the other groaned.

Welp! Guess dinner was completely on him tonight!

[meraki-yao]

RWRB Musical Ramble Part 3: Jukebox Musical

yes I'm back on this MWAHAHAHAHAHA

I’m also wondering if RWRB would work as a Jukebox musical (a musical using pop songs instead of original songs, our darling Nicholas has already starred in a, with all due respect, not that good one: Cinderella 2021)

That way we can keep some of the amazing song choices in the movie: If I Loved You, Get Low, Can’t Help Falling in Love With You. Plus with RWRB being a modern fairy tale and stuff maybe straight-up using pop songs would work better with the entire tone of the show/movie

But like, certain scenes/moments/songs from & Juliet and Moulin Rouge (ok these are the only two jukebox musicals I’ve listen to so far) could work for RWRB (yes I’m realizing this is more me finding musical songs that work for RWRB than anything but sue me)

“I Kissed a Girl/Boy” from & Juliet/ Katy Perry would work well for the entire Red Room -> Hook Up -> Polo Scene, granted RWRB would be more intense than what’s in & Juliet since our boys are doing… a little more than kissing :)

“Whataya want from me” also from & Juliet/ Adam Lambert, even from the same ship, can work for the Kensington Confrontation

This is less direct, but parts of “Elephant Love Medley” from Mouline Rouge, more distinctly in the Broadway show version, Santine sings about how love is not something she believes in while Christian sings about how he wants love with her. The idea of a love medley can work with Firstprince too, maybe during the Paris date or the lake scene: Henry not believing he can have love while Alex wanting to tell Henry that he’s in love with him. Plus Your Song (and Can't Help Falling in Love, briefly, in the broadway show version) makes an appearance :D (Even though personally I think Can't Help Falling in Love fits Firstprince more)

A lot of us talk about how Taylor Swift-coded Firstprince is, and it’s true (and I personally love it), but in a jukebox musical, the TS songs can be directly used: personally think Labyrinth would be fitting for where If I Love you is in the film, but having Henry sing it, especially since the first verse fits the imagery of Henry holding his aching heart under the water so well (sorry I can't find the freaking gif) :

It only hurts this much right now

Was what I was thinking the whole time

Breathe in, breathe through

Breathe deep, breathe out

I'll be getting over you my whole life

You know how scared I am of elevators

Never trust it if it rises fast

It can't last

Uh oh, I'm falling in love

Oh no, I'm falling in love again

Oh, I'm falling in love

I thought the plane was going down

How'd you turn it right around

And my other otp Malec kind of owns this song, but Ruelle’s War of Hearts at the very least lyrically suits Firstprince as well:

I can't help but love you

Even though I try not to

I can't help but want you

I know that I'd die without you

And Nick’s song Comfort (which I have been listening to on loop, its amazing please go check it out) actually suits Henry’s mentality really well:

Wanna stay, wanna run, wanna disappear

I keep biting my tongue just to keep you here

Made you wait for someone I could never be

And it's killing me

I’ll be the first to admit I don’t actually listen to that much pop music, so please please please feel free to add more, but so far this is what I got in terms of jukebox musical and narrative pop songs

Part 1 / Part 2

[lord-aldhelm]

salty ask: 2, 7, 10 & 14, please!

2. Are there any popular fandom OTPs you only BroTP? I mean, Uhtred x Aethelflaed for sure, but I don't know how popular that ship really is.

7. Is there anything you used to like but can’t stand now? No, actually the opposite. I have gained a greater appreciation for many characters that I previously did not like.

10. Most disliked arc and why? For me it is the whole succession arc, and with Aethelflaed being given the Mercian throne by Uhtred. Makes my bile rise thinking about it.

14. Unpopular opinion about your fandom? This will probably get me crucified, but oh well. Probably not unpopular on here, but I cannot STAND Uhtred! He grated on my nerves from the very beginning. I think he is a boring and flat character, unreasonably overpowered, and too much of a male Mary Sue. No one is allowed to hate him, no one is allowed to disagree with him, or they get labeled an enemy.

He is a shitty husband, father, and brother to his family. I don't blame Alfred one bit for not trusting him, nor Aelswith for despising him. And his mission of taking back Bebbanburg should not be celebrated. He is like the "Saxon Forrest Gump", and it is so unrealistic. Dude has been EVERYWHERE: a part of every major battle, met every king, seems to know everybody in the entire seven kingdoms, and has every strong female character fall in love with him.

He was clearly written as a men’s fantasy alter ego rather than a realistic character with any depth. He is god's gift to the Earth. Every man wants to be him, and every woman wants him. A mighty warlord who never looses a fight. He is overpowered and overwhelms the story, so that none of the other characters can eat, shit, or breathe without asking for his help. Every King and Lord across the lands calls on him for help, like he is Hercules or something. Give me a break.