#so i got tenderized into pulp and these came out of it

[madderruz]

Assorted mushy gushy sumiisa doodles + a more humorous one and they're purple this time

[absolutebl]

This Week in BL - The Heat is Rising

Sorry this late, blah blah real life actual job blah blah.

Organized, in each category, with ones I'm enjoying most at the top.

June 2024 Week 3

Ongoing Series - Thai

Wandee Goodday (Sat YT) ep 8 of 12 - Why is it so good?! It’s unfair. Cause I know pain must be incoming. Also... Yak moved to the "rao" pronoun for his confession! SO ADORABLE!!!!! Can you see me kicking my feet and squealing with joy on this side of the screen? Well I am. 

Sunset X Vibes (Sat iQIYI) ep 2 of 12 - I think I'm finding this show a lot funnier than the show is trying to be. The pose in the doorway. The sparkle pants. The creaking of the leather. It’s all hilarious. The foot massage. So silly. Simultaniously, full of thirst. Yay! I like thirst. Not entirely sure why he’s dicking him around and not dicking him out but hey the tension is fun. Also the shot staging is very good. Very yaoi. Lin going to have so much power in this relationship once he starts trying on seduction for size. All just to say, it’s good and I’m enjoying it.

My Stand-In (Fri iQIYI) ep 9 of 12 - you know I'm enjoying it a lot, so a surprise to see a Star Hunter beat it out? It's just MosBank are SERVING classic BL and I am a sucker for that kinda smut. Back to Stand-In...

It’s sad and a little complicated and interesting. And I’m still enjoying it very much. But this episode was mostly a rehash of information we already had been given, it was slow. Although since the acting is so good in this particular show, I didn’t mind it as much as I might have in a pulp piece, for example. 

My Love Mix-Up Th (Fri YT) ep 3 of 12 - I’m very much enjoying this. Not quite as much as I initially enjoyed the JBL version. But I’m liking a lot. There’s something particularly high school teen YA angst about this IP. Even more so than something like Make it Right or Love Sick. It’s just the cringe reactions and the constant embarrassments and the roller coaster of emotions that each character goes through in every scene. I forgot how exhausting it is to be a teen.

We Are Cute (Weds iQIYI) ep 12 of 16 - We Are Cute continues to be very cute indeed. Honestly Phum doesn’t need to flirt with Peem, Peem is already in love. The learning about each other is fun, but the fact that Phum still constantly communicates via kissing is great. I love that we have a couple whose love language is smooches. TanFang endgame is my favorite, I fucking LOVE them. But... NO SINGING. Worst fake band ever? Place docked in BL standing this week for that alone.

Love Sea (Sun iQIYI) ep 2 of 10 - It's fine I guess? Trash watch here.

Knock Knock Boys (Thurs Gaga) ep 5 of 12 - It’s ridiculous and they're very cute and I kind of don’t know what’s going on. But the young one getting his first dildo and skipping with excitement was utterly adorable. And it is the first rep we’ve got for such a thing in this genre. So good on you little pulp!

Only Boo! (Sun YT) ep 11 of 12 - Everything felt a little rushed and oddly paced in this episode. Not entirely sure why K came back to him. Anyway, I hope it’s all explained in the finale.

Ongoing Series - Not Thai

At 25:00 in Akasaka AKA 25 Ji Akasaka de (Japan Thurs Gaga) ep 10fin - I’ve made no secret about the fact that I haven’t been wild about this show.

Here’s a few things I enjoyed about the final episode: Uke initiated the sex scene!! Lots of tenderness. Long takes plus the absence of (and then very gentle introduction of) music. Unexpectedly high heat. Condom rep! The gayest bedroom layout ever. What I didn’t like: The absolute pinnacle of frustration for P'ABL on the other side of the screen wanting to grab the leads and shake them until their teeth rattled and scream "FOR THE LOVE, just TALK to each other!"  Oh but they are so cute and SO POLITE when the finally do reconcile! 

In conclusion:

A BL about the making of a BL where the famous one has a crush on the obscure one. It’s already been done.  Recently. By Japan. I would be tempted to say "better" but I didn’t like the first version either. At least this was less stalkery? Look, this show was fine. Just, in a word: cool, unengaging, and frustrating. OK that was 3 words. But they’re apt. A lackluster offering with a great ending. How to rate that? I despaired but ended up on 7/10 - do better Japan, I know you can.

Blue Boys (Korea YouTube) - it got its part 2, thank the BL gods, rounding this one into an 8 ep series. Still short (those eps barely scrape 10 min at most) but a solid little offering.

Charming reunion romance full of class + coming out struggles and great chemistry all of which was let down by a curtailed length. Had it just been given some legs, it could have grown wings and taken flight, but in the end it is simply too short. Still enjoyable and certainly worth your time. Cause ya don't need much of it. 8/10 RECOMMENDED

It's airing but...

The Last Time (Thai Fri YT?) - Convoluted story of loss and possible reincarnation or something. Can't find it.

OMG Vampire (Thai Sun ???) 10 eps - I've put the search on hold for a bit and y'all can let me know if it's worth tracking down.

In case you missed it

I mean you were under a rock on Tues Jan 18th Thailand's senate passed the Marriage Equality Bill. As of typing this, the King still has to sign it into law, but he's unlikely to veto. So it's a matter of time before everything is official. Thailand follows Nepal (2024) and Taiwan (2019). Both of those were judicial, Thailand's is legislative.

Let's Eat Together Aki and Haru 2 AKA Aki wa Haru to Gohan wo Tabetai 2 Haime! (Japan movie) - Continued the (frankly) lackadaisical story from part 1 and was meant to drop yesterday. We thought maybe Gaga, but nothing so far.

The Time of Fever AKA Unintentional Love Story 2 (Korea movie) trailer released to Korean theaters 5/25. HoTae & DongHee, side couple from Unintentional Love Story are back! Same actors, same character names. I love them. Devastated this hasn't had international distribution.

Next Week Looks Like This:

Upcoming BLs for 2024 are listed here. This list is not kept updated, so please leave a comment if you know something new or RP with additions.

Last of the June Releases

6/26 The Rebound (Thai Weds Gaga) - MeenPing are back in their 3rd BL together, a basketball based romance (Meen was a national basketball player, so yay for that). I like this pair better than most (I still do miss Meen with Est but Est has a fantastic looking new BL coming from GMMTV so yeah...) Anyway I'm up for a sports romance starring a man who, yah know, actually played that sport so... I'm game (pun intended).

6/26 I Hear the Sunspot AKA Hidamari ga Kikoeru (Japan Weds Gaga) 10 eps - A new series adaptation of beloved yaoi I Hear the Sunspot (first adaptation was feature film Silhouette of Your Voice 2017).

6/30 The Trainee (Thailand Sun YouTube) 12 eps- office romance between a boss/employee featuring OffGun. Taking over Boo's spot for GMMTV.

THIS WEEK’S BEST MOMENTS

Lip touch! So sexy. So rare from Korea. Blue Boys.

I do love a meta call out moment.

Tiny idiots (affectionate)

Love their kisses. Such a great side couple.

All Wandee.

(Last week)

QUICK NOTE: I'm flying international back next weekend and the damn thing is gonna take like 72 hours or whatever insanity. Needless to say, I may not get to this round-up for ages. So don't panic, I'm not dead just sleeping.

Streaming services are listed by how I (usually) watch, which is with a USA based IP, and often offset by a day because time zones are a pain.

The tag BLigade: @doorajar @solitaryandwandering @my-rose-tinted-glasses @babymbbatinygirl @babymbbatinygirl @isisanna-blog @mmastertheone @pickletrip @aliceisathome @urikawa-miyuki @tokillamonger @sunflower-positiiivity @rocketturtle4 @blglplus @anythinggoesintheshire @everlightly @renafire @mestizashinrin @bl-bam-beyond @small-dark-and-delicious @saezurumurmurs

Sigh, Tumblr in it's infinite wisdom doesn't like too many tags.

There's these tricks, remember.

[kyleoreillylover]

Reunited At Last

Summary: Sami and Jey reunite at the Rumble, and show each other love in the only way they know how (by being utterly adorable two idiots insufferably in love)

Word count: 1,819

tagged: @southerngirl41 @venusesworld @jeysbae @reci1996 @tbonesteakwithasideofmashngrav @hope4more @selena-tyler-564 @saintaquarius @whatdoeseverybodywant @raya-hunter01

A/N: this is for all the people that were mad at the fact that jey got eliminated right before sami came in at number 30! here's to seeing our boys reunite at raw tonight!!

Jey was sweaty and out of breath as he walked into the locker room. He knew he should’ve been angry at Gunther eliminating him—he had lasted almost an hour in there just for Gunther to throw him over the top rope, and make his efforts in vain. Trust that he was gon’ take that title from him when he gets the chance.

But right now, all he could focus was on Sami (his Sami) making his way to the ring—fiery red hair and eyes that matched the determination in his stride.

Of course it would be his fucking luck that he got eliminated right before Sami entered, after weeks of not seeing each other after Drew hurt Sami's leg, and Sami had taken time off to heal. Jey missed his boyfriend dearly, and even though they called and texted every day, it wasn't the same as being together in person. 

And now, finally, they were reunited, so close to reconnecting fully, and Jey couldn't wait for it.

Jey peeled off his sweaty wrestling gear and tossed it into his locker, the metallic clang echoing in the empty room, wiped the sweat from his brow and hurried to find a good spot near the entrance ramp where he could watch Sami's match. 

Despite his disappointment, a small smile tugged at the corners of his lips as he watched Sami on the monitor mounted on the wall. That was his man beating Drew's ass to a pulp, and getting his lick back. That was his man having the crowd in the palm of his hand as he eliminated other competitors one by one.

And once he saw his man come to the back after getting eliminated by Drew (who Jey added to his list of people he would deal with), Jey wasted no time in pulling Sami into a tight embrace, ignoring the pain shooting through his own body from the grueling match he had just endured. 

“I fucking missed you,” Jey whispered into Sami’s lips as he harshly kissed him, pouring all his longing and pent-up emotions into the embrace.

Sami's arms wrapped around Jey's neck, holding him close as if afraid to let go. "Missed you too, babe," he murmured against Jey's lips between kisses, his own passion matching Jey's intensity.

It felt like coming home. Their toungues swirled in a dance of longing and desire, their bodies pressed close, sharing the heat of their passion. Jey tightened his grip on Sami, as if trying to meld their bodies together, wanting to erase any space that separated them during their time apart.

Sami responded by deepening the kiss, his fingers tangling in Jey's hair as he pulled him even closer, his cologne mixed with Jey's sweat creating an intoxicating blend that filled Jey's senses.

For a moment, the world outside faded away, leaving only the two of them in their own bubble of love and longing.

But just as quickly as it had begun, reality intruded. The sounds of the locker room, the distant roar of the crowd, reminded them of where they were. Reluctantly, they broke apart, though their hands remained clasped, unwilling to let go completely.

"I missed you, boo." Jey whispered, his voice husky with emotion, as he pressed his forehead against Sami's, their breaths mingling in the air between them.

Sami smiled at Jey, his eyes shining with affection. "I missed you too, Jey," Sami replied, his voice soft yet filled with a quiet strength. His lips made his way to Jey's again, but this time it was soft and sweet, no heat between them, just the tender reassurance of their love for each other. "But I'm here now, and we 'll make up for all the lost time," Sami added, his voice carrying a promise that echoed in Jey's heart.

Jey smiled, feeling a warmth spread through his chest at Sami's words. Despite the disappointment of losing the match and the ache in his body, being with Sami made everything feel right again. "Yeah, we are," he said, his voice filled with conviction. "And ain't nobody gonna come between us again."

The tension that always surrounded them was coming back full force, and their eyes told the whole story; love, longing, and determination all mixed together in a potent cocktail of emotions.

Jey couldn't take it anymore, and pressed his lips against Sami's once more, this time with a softness that belied the intensity of his feelings. Sami responded eagerly, his arms wrapping around Jey's waist as they melted into each other, their bodies fitting together perfectly like two pieces of a puzzle.

"Why you ain't fucking tell me you was gonna be in the Rumble tonight? I haven't seen you in weeks," Jey murmured against Sami's lips, his voice tinged with reproach, though the love in his eyes softened the edges of his words.

Sami chuckled softly, his fingers tracing patterns on Jey's back. "I wanted it to be a surprise," he admitted, his voice warm with affection. "Thought it'd be nice to see the look on your face when I came out."

Jey rolled his eyes, though there was a hint of a smile playing on his lips. "Well, I gotta admit, I was pretty damn surprised," he admitted, pressing a gentle kiss to Sami's nose. "But you could've at least given me a heads up. I would've made sure to kick Drews ass extra hard for you."

Sami laughed, the sound light and melodious, like music to Jey's ears. "I appreciate the sentiment, babe," he said, his eyes sparkling with amusement. "But I think I did a pretty good job of handling Drew myself."

Sami pecked Jey on the lips before continuing, "Besides, knowing I was coming back to you being in my arms was incentive enough to keep my mouth shut. Your pretty face was all the motivation I needed."

Jey smiled softly at Sami's words, his eyes softening with affection. "You such a fool, he said, leaning in to capture Sami's lips in another tender kiss.

Sami's smile widened, his eyes sparkling with love as he pulled Jey closer, their bodies pressed together in a tight embrace. "But I'm your fool, right?" He asked into Jey's lips, his voice filled with love and warmth.

Jey chuckled, his heart swelling with happiness at Sami's words. "Yeah, you my fool."  Jey leaned in to kiss Sami again, the world around them fading away as they lost themselves in each other once more.

In that moment, nothing else mattered but the love they shared, and even though they didn't win the rumble, Jey didn't care about that anymore. All that mattered was being with Sami, holding him close, and never letting go.

"But next time, no more surprises." Jey pulled away to give Sami a playful glare, though his eyes twinkled with affection. "You know I ain't like surprises."

Sami grinned at Jey softly, eyes filled with mischief and love, his fingers trailing down Jey's chest. "Got it," he said, his voice warm with affection. "No more surprises." He squeezed Jey's hand before bringing him into a final kiss, his red beard tickling Jey's chin in the most delicious way possible. "But that sucks for you, cause I had a surprise for you tonight in our hotel room."

Jey arched an eyebrow, curiosity piqued. "Oh yeah? And what might that surprise be?" he asked, a playful grin tugging at the corners of his lips.

Sami chuckled, the sound low and teasing. "Well, if I told you, it wouldn't be a surprise now, would it?" he teased, leaning in to nip at Jey's earlobe playfully.

Jey shivered at the sensation, a shudder of desire running down his spine. "You're such a tease," he muttered, though there was no real annoyance in his voice, only amusement and anticipation.

Sami smirked, his eyes dancing with mischief. "Guilty as charged," he replied, his voice low and husky as he leaned in to capture Jey's lips in another searing kiss. "Now grab your bags so we can get out of here and I can show you just how much I've missed you." 

Bossy as hell was Sami, but it was nothing if not hot, and Jey's eyes darkened at the promise in Sami's words. With a smirk of his own, Jey squeezed Sami's hand before leading them both to the locker room, where their bags were waiting. 

"I really missed you, y'know?" Sami softly whispered as they walked side by side, their fingers intertwined, and it made Jey's heart swell with warmth. He glanced at Sami, taking in the sincerity in his eyes, and couldn't help but feel a surge of love for the man beside him.

"I missed you too, more than you know," Jey replied, his voice soft with emotion. "Drew and Imperium was bothering me, and you wasn't by my side. Every week I would count down the days until I could see you again, until I could hold you in my arms," Jey continued, his gaze locked with Sami's as they stopped in front of their bags.

Sami reached out, cupping Jey's cheek in his hand, his touch gentle yet filled with a quiet intensity. "I know, babe," he said softly, his thumb brushing over Jey's cheekbone. "I would be at home waiting for you, feeling just as lost and empty without you by my side," Sami admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. "But now we're together again, and nothing else matters."

Jey leaned into Sami's touch, closing his eyes briefly to savor the warmth of Sami's hand against his skin. Nothing else was needed but their silent exchange of love and understanding, each word unspoken but felt deeply between them.

With a shared smile, they collected their bags and headed out of the locker room, their hands still intertwined, their hearts beating in sync.

Before they got in the car, Jey stopped and turned to face Sami, cupping his face in his hands. "I love you, Sami," he said, his voice filled with sincerity and devotion.

Sami's eyes softened, a tender smile gracing his lips. "I love you too, Jey," he replied, his voice barely above a whisper, yet carrying the weight of all the love he felt for the man in front of him.

With one final kiss, they sealed their love, their lips meeting in a soft, lingering embrace that spoke volumes of the bond they shared. And as they drove off into the night, hand in hand, their hearts full of love and their souls intertwined, they knew that no matter how much time passed or what challenges they faced, they would always have each other.

As they drove through the city streets, the neon lights blurred into a kaleidoscope of colors, but in each other's gaze, they found the only light they needed.

And that was better than any Rumble win could ever be.

[crybabytoy59]

Please deal back fired pt3.

On the trolly at my side was various items first was six suction cups of different sizes, next to them was the hand pump for them.

A silver surgical plate was next to them with plastic needle cannulas, two of them ! Pinned up beside these were around 12 needles in two rows of six each getting larger ..the last one was black and of a Very Large gauge ! 

A wee silver bucket was next with two bags of some sort of fluids a thin tube coiled from each at the ready.

But it was the last bowl that had me scream so scared pleading with them.. 

in this was ginger pulp with a glass jar next to this bowl was squeezed ginger oil !

Last item was a large black pudding that had the plastic wrapper removed?

The with of the north smiling at me spoke to her twin sister !

“Let’s get started on Snow Whites new surprise ! For Mommy and Daddy!”

 She lifted the white neck frills on my dress pulling two zips I had not seen !

The chest part fell down like an apron in my lap..

She ran her hands over the plastic to loud crinkles ..

Mmmmmmmm !

The witch of the south handed her a scalpel ! 

“Keep Very still Snow White !”

She cut along the chest line through the plastic the pulled out the pink Lycra cutting it also then tucked it up and down to form an opening over my chest !

As again South handed her one of the cannulas! 

“Big Deep breaths Snow White !…good girl…I’m we go !”

The pain was instant as I felt her work the needle into my chest, then remove the needle part she put tape on to hold it in place …

“Snow White what do we do for this ?”

She had the other cannula !

I took a big deep breath!

The witch of the south spoke to me ..

“Clever girl Snow White that’s clever..trust me when I say you had best be completely Obedient or else we are going to truly hurt you princess !”

Her words were almost cold in there delivery too me !

She was truly scary..

Aawwww don’t tease poor Snow White she is going to be ever so good aren’t you princess!”

North them put the second neddle in much more forceful ! 

As I cried out …

They were already setting up a bag to each cannula !

The witch of the north took my tender nipples slowly teasing them.. 

“Mommy has you very tender her eh Snow ?”

I nodded best I could to her as her sister handed her a cup with the pump attached !

She set about pumping it over my right nipple as it raised up inside she removed the pump fixing it to the second cup her sister was handing her over.

Both nipples now cupped she patted my head….

“Clever girl Snow ..Your turn South !”

She got up off my lap..

As the Witch of the South lifted the jar of oil removing the top she held a steel syringe with a glass center, pulling the entire container into the syringe ! 

She came over to me as her sister lifted my dress to reveal my shorts..

South did not even speak to me !

She pushed  it to the gold heart into one of the black rings ?

Pushing slowly..

She looked Deeply into my eyes ..

Then as I felt something ozing out my inflatable plug, she pushed Hard emptied the whole syringe in one ! 

I squealed…

“Quite Snow White ! Think we care ? This is a punishment madam !”

She pulled the plunger out of the syringe lifting the ginger pulp she poured it in ..

Then fed the plunger back in as I watched goo drip from the end !

“Hold her head please North !”

Her sister held my head but I could barely move it in any case?

South pushed it to the mouth gag …

Pushing it hard goo flowed over my trapped tongue !

I had to swallow relentlessly not too choke !!

This was very hard as the last went in I started crying..

“Clever girl Snow White cry for everyone princess !”

The witch of the north mocked !

As Her sister did something diabolical !

She lifted over a blender removing the jug she squatted over it to pee ! 

Next she put the black pudding into the hot piss putting the top on it she plugged it back on the blender flicking the switch !

It was instant a black slurry…she then undid the jug removed the top and handed it too her sister who also squatted over it to pee !

This was set back to the blender as I sat crying over what I knew was next !

They were going to feed me this !!! …

[wanderingmind867]

I love Iron Munro being Roy Thomas's remake of the Golden Age Superman mixed with the mythos of Hugo Danner, an old pulp hero. But I want to elevate it, and make him a bit more like a backwards Superman. Iron Munro was a human being born in the 1930s, who grows up on Olympus. At this point, I'm making a new character with the same name, a character who's like 50% Golden Age Superman, 50% Jason Grace from the Heroes of Olympus (and also 50% holy polytheistic crusader fighting against an evil christian). But let me explain in more detail:

In 1928, the roman god Jupiter fell in love with a mortal woman in Cleveland by the name of Anna Munro. Anna was married to a cruel, heartless man named Hugo Danner, heir to a rich publishing company based out of Cleveland. Hugo was a nihilistic womanizer, constantly cheating on his wife just to try and feel something in life. What drove Hugo to become like this, you might ask? Well, to understand that, we need to understand his family history.

Hugo Danner was born in 1893. His father was a mad scientist obsessed with eugenics and with creating the perfect human. To do this, he conducted highly unethical experiments on his wife and on animals he kidnapped. Eventually discovering a formula to make a man super strong, this mad scientist shot the formula into his wife's pregnant belly. This led to Hugo Danner being born a virtual superman, genetically superior to all other men in all ways, physically and mentally.

But perhaps because he was raised by a mad scientist obsessed with eugenics, Hugo never had a normal childhood. He was taught to see himself as above others. He inherited his father's lucrative fortune in 1908, and he used it to build a business empire. He got married in 1915, but the marriage ended in 1918, shortly after she gave him his first son. He then divorced her and took the son, because he felt no love for this woman so far below him.

He then met Anna in 1920, and he wooed her tremendously. But she eventually realized it was pretty much all an act. Hugo was never satisfied with just her. He would constantly be pursuing other women, all just so he could try to feel less like a god. He barely ever felt like a normal man, and he certainly didn't feel any form of fondness or attachment to anyone. So his only form of feeling came from commuting countless affairs.

In any case, Jupiter took pity on anna when he met her, and he slowly began to fall in love with her. If her husband wouldn't be there for her, he could at least offer her a tender word or two. Eventually, this led to them having a one night stand together, and anna subsequently ended up pregnant with his child.

When Arnold Munro was born in the spring of 1930, Hugo immediately knew the child wasn't his. Especially since he hadn't slept with Anna in months. Accusing her of cheating on him (the exact same thing he repeatedly did to her) Hugo tries to kill her! Strangling her and throwing boiling water at her, Jupiter intervenes. He sends lightning crashing through the house, destroying it and killing Hugo Danner with 500 million volts of electricity. For all his superhuman might, hugo danner was no god. He died then and there, a callous and bitter 37 year old man.

In shock at what happened (and subsequently at realizing she slept with a god), Anna's mind breaks and she dies of a heart attack right then and there. Witnessing all this was hugo's 12 year old son by his first marriage, Harrison Danner (who had inherited some of his father's great powers). Seeing a god kill his father, Harrison swore revenge if it was the last thing he did. He would not rest until he got to kill Jupiter and his filthy step-sibling, Arnold Munro.

But now that Arnold was fundamentally homeless (and since I definitely can't get away with having him living in Camp Jupiter, or raised by that filthy, eugenicist wolf called lupa), Jupiter takes pity on his son. He knows there's no place for him on this world of men. So he takes him to Olympus, to live as one of Dii Consentes. One of the holy gods in the roman halls of olympus (not those "barbaric greek ones", as his more uncivilized form of Zeus would want).

So from here, Arnold Munro grew up on the roman olympus, the demigod who curried the favour of all the gods. He even earned himself a nickname, the name of fortissimo (which means very courageous in Latin). From 1934/1935 to 1981, Arnold lived with the Roman Gods. Mars was his trainer, and Jupiter and Minerva his teachers in Wisdom and Diplomacy. He had the best teachings the gods could provide, and he became one of the strongest demigods to ever live.

The gods bestowed many blessings upon him for his valorous deeds, the biggest of which was his gift of bulletproof skin. He also has control over the winds and the storms, the finest training in roman military tactics, and a special weapon: a spear charged with the power of jupiter's powerful lightning bolts. With Flesh of Iron and Blood of Olympus, he is Iron Munro, the Champion of Rome!

Around 1985 (when the crisis on infinite earths occurred, and arnold was approaching 60 years on olympus), the romans sent him to earth on a mission. Faith in the old myths is decaying. You must go out and restore faith. Prove to them all the power of Rome has never once faltered! Those two-bit christians and monotheists have destroyed our temples, and we must rebuild!

Sent onto the world of his birth in 1986 (one of a few worlds that amalgamated after the crisis to form a New Earth unique to the Post Crisis universe), Iron Munro sets out proving the worth of his people. And the first step was to go to Cleveland and finally get revenge on his step-brother. Harrison Danner is now a 68 year man who's continued the lecherous ways of his father and the corruption of his company. He's had 6 wives in 68 years, and he's had 3 kids from three of the different marriages. He's disowned all of his kids, too.

But besides just being a lecher and an abuser, Hugo Danner has spent the last 56 years since he saw his dad killed building a megachurch dedicated to stamping out any and all roman influence in society. Him and his band of christian zealots call themselves "The Warriors of Truth", but Iron Munroe has arrived to show they're anything but.

Breaking into one of their meetings, Arnold leads an attack on his brother. The attack is fierce but precise, the same way Mars taught him. The holy zealots realize their bullets don't affect him, and he calmly storms up to his brother and hits him with a punch of pure iron! Throwing him off the stage, Arnold Munro then calls upon the might of his father to send an arc of lightning running up and down Harrison's spine!

By the time Arnold is done, Harrison Danner is paralyzed, stuck in a wheelchair and unable to talk. But his brain still functions, and this mad religious hypocrite still plans revenge from his care facility. He will kill the filthy sinner that is Iron Munroe, and he will prove that Jupiter is a false god! But while he seethes, Danner publishing co is bought out by a more inclusive company, S&S (Siegel and Shuster) Publishing.

And with his mortal mother and his olympian family finally avenged, Arnold Munro heads out into the woods of the far northern yukon, where he lives hidden from mortal civilization. Or well, hidden for around 2-3 years. Because by 1988/1989, he winds up a founding member of the Justice League of the New Earth.

[libidomechanica]

Untitled (“Made it,”)

A sonnet sequence

               1

That from the silvery boyish, new, seraglio guess’d he plumes ane an’ twenty, Tam. The sacred proverb of thankfulnesse, and hate: born to my though no more difference wherein I long, that have power sae sweet eglantine; modesty’s my Julia, now fast fading too, to some sweet in her than lost, where his virgin Daughters, who keep fair from my foolish Ishbosheth through art’s and your lost. Made it, and lay no attentious, therefore a Son; got, what it might neuer slain with great footed flows, walk’d, and roll of lower yet this lady. Being streams around asleep, some on their own land rolls away.

               2

” Said he, if only branches out to pulp. Until the window—and there and pity rest in love the dark crust crumbled mixt with their roll, lay in lovely boy, when, and it is not Twenty—from these regions which as any room. Are dropping loud she will not choose bushes wept Blood, in shining Age, so I slowly spirit was the silent, and War was to Arts to the inhabitants of fear, till do whate’er here was obtuse. Her planet closed in the Muse would call’d my part, her feel how few! And if I knew her body to challenge eyes, nor slave of knowledge flies. Oh leaves so greeting, and shiver.

               3

The best of the Cup of my rude Pan thousand wrath I hear thee to meditate to sport; both might awakes the acts retire, and with Jove’s picture, furnish’d Clarinda knew; but now the engines laid with my veracious, position; which Neptune’s babe in mossy bed reciting on delight, still losing heart, his head, and inwardly, and as a hat, or a Ha! Fountains! Of lofty pride, so, one day throbbing sets up in thee by Juno’s smiled ark the Fates but Half-lance touch of Loue, and words but ah! The chilly midnight for a tenderer dream: but I compile she measure!

               4

Their iudgement of wrinkles glance as he’s music in the burning flood than if Kate o’ the queen often navigate o’er, nor claim Comes a vapour fresh Glories haue, but speech grew my too soon woud breakfast tables, and thy Heav’n Submitted to make her, where hard old me by those birth—Despair stirred. And lift Endymion’s Curst thee, whichever sinking; hero, buffoon: the Carian hordes, cobbling lyre already, who say leads in colour vade of its currents, he arose a nurse of his bleede; but what—and wisdom on thy side, seem near. Of waking, but shears had hope this; say these: not so long, he had suffer’d: why am I Scanted;—I presume thought her ear to cry as if he were laid with fierce alarm, so that make him, up, to brings are caprice; and adore. Upon the ev’ning Phoebe, his was all end. Of which makes me again, how changed her. When a hen to trust, enjoy’d no longed. In the monstrain?

               5

Will do; but, if examine, there in each! Hast the wind mend the frost of sixteen call, dreary moon, and amid the Crown? From David, several plot which wrapt they held. The wide withdrew to hand, which, as some beauty forest girls and came flying fire filched besides I’ll tell. That sad reach’d their sinless to dwelling, when he great, were some Astraean aged crescent. Despise, for if those of memory of a poet laurel! And after flight of those enchain! How blest, by new unfolding a numbers, who is that? A bless: this is not had a flowers to deeds— this husbandry? The space, both twain forces.

               6

Away! But these are broad sunk: tis she, too cruelty has been she triumphant iron of a kindness, nor miniature make example to precede like those, the rosy mouth’d proper to Padisha or Pacha. And thence we hunts into the Diadem he give on all rockets of whatever heed: That fine screwy fiddler from the hall; so, as Socrates, and each other, they calling teares. This, that of the breath of shame, decides like widow’d with the carven story, which is occasional to restore than the air and he never try’d them in the golden from vice, of her not.

               7

Sweet a faire, and Gills and fame may shows herself to save one dire Agent fountains,— thine and pity would be afraid, to bed. In deaths of hemlock I hae lo’ed best cou’d be undone vast abyss: while heart to doubt not, nor taint thy tendrils did she be them equal baseness by night as a human Wit could turn from the Sea; listen, and throughout excitement of our Good; enclin’d the tints of grow’st; if so, by Lawless demons to the mirror, and beckon’d none, or how: but women use but deems a strange, on syren show’d the slenderest inscribed, we stumbled might after all the soil hath set.

               8

The key turn the blind will not see the Fates were they will but follow’d by Force becoming breasts, and quick apprehension whether truth! What island never want to give him, if this manners go. I bade he binds meet A chains remain on a flame to go. Where and where fancy cannot lay afloat, below the place, and cannot fly, fly, my faults i’d not, the proud with none but the world compass than an uniform. And do I return no more. Now, euen while, entoil’d chilly nest, althought to prevent your heart, and so long, and, kind conquering! Devout kiss; dead world is censure your unmistakes.

               9

Indeed a colour vade of Beauty Full; who thus with large, with ease, and fiery night, or did her to represence not all my loof, i’m think me touch my mind, cast out and came to love for the mysterious blame; for at least a shepherds that. Back, saw myself the day when thou, roger stood and mine, lass, was never, whispering Tyrant to right that through the stood a beggar that poor Plot is made them all in the years, and the look’d aside, and he slid. I am so pure Will leaguing, instead, and scarcely like to the Seasons and others; arts of an old one the who can never habit rather bridal-gift a scour about him, takes thought to admiring thus; Drear, dreadful fightingale, till gentle sex, and an eye can blacknesse kils delight, and knockest a dead before her silver, she hated. By the two. The saddle- leather’s seat, might she, they camel’s hump, beside, seemed to hope.

               10

Have don’t say that golden hook, the sea places if i could decreed it his eyes, a lip to spin for ever side, seeming women of various, who on the tangled, and music in all that, they all for now, his last time lie then, thy grace. Who make my Madeline in spaces that Sage said john surrender’d a speedy ease all thee: who thus him playnd, that grow to move with swimming and given grace, with his he shore. Went the tried to this wide: And round of snow; for wits of light with stroke out offered and I swallow flame. The guest hid: but lent that tends to meet the final berried that his lady.

               11

And there came crown of sorrow is thin, applying in the superstition; if matter, entering fauns would have the golden daffodils. Her mind. And her drawn from his business I might shade, I clasp? The subway rideth! Tread they will. Many a door is to be a butterfly, a lonely trees, it is they shall be you up his thought of such a baby as the law with heavenly and to greet to the spake him, looking at the gardens: there ran in sort of Ruth, will presence, and his own the can I not surely I drew to front to the forth the chiefest joy to have known to Foreign Yoke.

               12

I could my lustful spight on an hour, that nobody, not even smiling, yes. The Pen of Let these thing! And, Princes all thine early fruit wouldst haue my dearest, I think our may be my reflection, lust is morning, hath let them not; my sense that seventeen, than it not; the trash’ he sails the wind a wond’rous rippled the new native on the measure to whom still, an outline’s fated or the due careful to the pride to worth of yes and maids are paired with the year; and fairy one, nor slave-maker, who with ever-varying rhyme? Of health, our Head, though certain and worship to dreamingly.

               13

To which veils the way, and the choose, and Jebusites may slip could what mix’d and meanwhile and be but thou dost this such a heap it high, could seer in his anger with blowe the teeming has shook down his army’s loss is now to say with his said that in the face the Fates were always taught window’s benighted, child. Yet, Fame is it, as one granted of spirit all its real drifting up the dark hearts, and gem. Nor would more sent to twinkle things rarely suppose the milk-white limbs, and couch’d. To me, and Delude soft starved in their Chief, in pretence, and those nameless virgin’s chamber of his realize it.

               14

His sacrifice, Treason Law. If true-love’s empyrean I have I drunk my fingers with eloquence hast to drops like them whence untenance, and when gleam; the sun looking and how he had none; if stars, and a sweet your mine eyes, but one, sleeping though skin: little moment, wan, in beauty show the passions why sae sweet. To a marriage, his Highness. To call do: for I flatter where be know them proper home, the valley lightest graced here, like some splenetic soul smooth as an island never was a sin far too happy speedier blood queers? Nor the night I have I to take him, and cried my fate.

               15

Most think ye are castle o’ Montgomery! Desire, which in files, as bottom will never feelings from his tuneful straiten’d forefingers on the couldst those head, taking; some old Man you would have to fade awake, and then my selfe, shall keep his tongue, I have my body into regions mayst with fleshly spring found the weeds we do. I may press Cathering through her paint your kirtle blood burn’d and I should suffer&becoming or right? From seeming with me to nothing new: that’s bearded not rises up the best of ill! But when the visions wilds the clamour thou gentle write on the deed be done.

               16

As the dark pillars of the Nikolaiew: the glow as in convey the baldness to be sorrow the phenomenological charioted by the sea, playing. For the carefully, sudden a town of doctrines thrown, from the wood’s bold snuff at its worth’s bound: for which he clung to deeds a moment deserts that meek unknown, and lost his Kingly tripped, for its coolly as I’d talk of the caged birds are topic which should be for that needs discordant goose. The devils! Was as a swallows ne’er would she, she farmer of the spring when me! Bending, haply I then my off’rings, but by the boor.

               17

Seer in a glow-worm should contracts, and more some said. As the hall—jenny her Content beneath the anger, and heaven’s surface; but names let falls under crescented spotless Kings, from them,—or, if it should have the songes, let her Milk, she love-knots, silken hook, the morning up in languid moon:-to be from Oblivion, even make, with ’haviour boast; things to my purpose, thou wast a frozen great cost, and if I could plumes ane an’ twenty, Tam. Said, the parts which is not love the rose the triumph’d ere I die; nor canst not a whole a noise the mind? Watch out forth we hear that Sage his shepe there one out.

               18

Singing of a throne, frugal forms go by, as the boy’s? Love’s sole praise they must often thro’ thy pregnant winds are about that it is a muskrose upon her neck, likewise her freeze, they’ve wrangled but yet, because his false, are men with yielded, wrong, Moody, full mankind. Besides, the deep for blushes might signal to see Leander view. You are rather their compass come to clear planning now it nor grave Professor. The bourne of him be thy vestal duties of everywhere!— I did moue, they fails, since by vnright a man shares in her matter, by the sod, and if you can’-which undone. Not for my tomb.

               19

The mind, seemed not, for Agnes’ Eve, Are you wept. With a great revive; inspir’d, the boldest Hope, with cypress, to raise effect: the People in the rolling water-lilies deeply under still the water they fled, in paid his Estate. His own carol them with you wilt be my ain. Was to end wise I: be comforted, ’ said Arac, worthy being lanes and Naming Saint from her birth, and then thou hast away, because my body should I? Yea but Save me in the female dress his brow the Lady Adeline in their bride, cheered me withdrew to find. Can no man even to thraldome time procure.

               20

Told, though the trees, a tigression, were at lengthened by fate, well might she answered Love’s worth his voice is Nature thus intervene and she upheld her and after the raines which, they will all on you and might I Mourn’d of endless permutation and upon a grave demurely been able to all see mark of art, but being me. And now are clouded pond’s ordination—professor. Worthy tottring by my side, that none, in signs. Which mans mind no place was from that his Kindness Ill with sober see deserve to say, there lies be ioyes remains: and fruit no less import in his title of Dung.

               21

To bed, to move so near under was not supply: that Colin Clout doth the beauteous fair and say to a moving view, he countries that self; if that verily believed with kindly in the hush’d, and to Loues in the rainspout you may come backyard licks us. Strength more than form a science subjected with diminsh’d lightly tell youth! Replied and blear-eyed Will the gentlements happens in the Prince our royal bird stiff icy mitts and talk’d till at hand dreamt of my spit. Dear lady, it is fill with ready many a starry clusters tost it take at hob-nail Dick, who would lift this age, would tye.

               22

When Winters, which after, all, and drops dead. Henceforth ask me no matter pearl and let me but go, endure; and winds at all. Like puzzled more perform nor yet that will not even now, that the rest; for Factions exactly increase, nor bussed are, whatever had he bears it out as from heave theme of long didst poison’d in a new news is I witness Lump, like the Sword, which leave me most think h’ had every courage him eerie,— o why sae sweet are only’ s a spacious! New joy was in a straight embraces, with reproue, and once again, all the land, whose Nativity? Set in love, dear sister.

               23

Her kirtle blacksmith, ’ a village churlish billowing full-cavern’d earth thee long. Except Mahomet with Martyrdom did the grass my hand care, or speech is the fire, and Dark, drawn thus began retreat, himself he went too, the Throne by a sin, kiss me wiser that always both she lay, the king; they answer’d,—that his Highness’ year, and yet the worms thy charm, as congresses place Leander move, without disturb a Stake the phantasm! Thus even of fit and Tom are palsy shakes wi’ disdaine, must be: where is abundance of fault was a good or ill come and Trojan, and we ride you transit.

               24

And every woe; before the third, in Sion rank, ribands, together than all that hand remain’d, where enamour’—a dish of whom them, than this, so beauteous riddle-book, his Highness with every well or ill delight, sick, old ere my swain. Underneath huge honeyed embracements we need wise; for which doth thy lying with thee best. Yet this thy voyce the winna ease thee, diviner streak through she leaneth, Put a kind and when birds do no less. The play; he thunder. Let not be as firebrand—gentle lady tread the too; upon his hand answering matter what Relief was not there was hid.—Taste and vagrant exhalation, e’er driven sign thy wynters far—ye may read, or constrain; where when thing;—a dove fray’d by Truths transaction, for your book of shepherd, but select, as then moved, I call that bards called our of Property allow; even to One, in gormandize excess, was not things dear!

               25

Ramping across the water enter pillow; let us man-girdle his queenly blew, with my own fancies, toiled into a white arms some those proceed more abuse of kill’d on thine Eyes from they take amiss, for their arms round rose-bud’s the centre sits ink has pants, with immod’rate and frets our spirits do sing, tis burning Power unpleas’d amain. Outcast stale down, but my native hopes, hover’d wall and Musk she to fright the same,—and our roses nobody, not even sacrifice as mother with this friend of war and heard, like the past them with swimming and every limb, low about Shalott.

               26

Love’s daughter: for I loved, a version was a snowflake in this very night she, his loftiest mind, than these meadows, with thy bowers, your braid my spirits do sing, down his replied, without, proclaim, or be as unmix’d and Elizabeth and truly notes as she was strife, from wife, and friend Hortensius. Overcome inmate there was pension proved angel is a narrow with somewhat largely spring to destroyed just as a little damp, presaging thought! She turtle’s blood as also set and silent; brother wing, which nodded tomb, and had before for which mount he with his last extremely freed.

               27

’ The heart had a syllable month, will I sobbed in lead so these is conspird into the loftiest kiss; dead when they still the Beams of light it rested farther predilection’s and warmth, if never love me; here an old one tell me backyard licks us. It suffice what well; no, child of a Crown intent to regions Waste, haste, whither, that made your face: inches play. With all heart! And chastitie: o eyes by the things at hand, and blew up inside its cautious of men; at harvest of her Eye. Thou ask my eye doth swell; no, child, a lessons rather arms, and fill the blasted, all in one who as yet this.

               28

In war with show’d the sweet. He look on the sudden woman’s down, mouthing they creeps, so might refines stately Brave, they can do; thought a kind companion art, but I was plant in your prowde with the piebald miss in triumphed, or marriage was seeking not too sooner forest disarms—these days till perhaps the prime, and the distant from the West. Heavy, my lady in heavens filling may be of Corinthian Brass, ’ for laying willow: ’twas a child, in view its blood, that he case, may yet still, as the trouble sacred Life can know no more sent the floods which was deemed a banish’d, I will be my ain.

               29

On desperation; proud of thine, of hospitable seamen. Suddenly, as where signal that has already cited; her eye doth his Masters Fate: in which thee down: and, tumble down beside some of your best; dissimus ibis. Passions are a new nodule of them.—I wish thee. Star, if any further present pay? The pallid aspect of them. Of my rude pen can hath their seed attentious, have no dædale heard through some cornice rest, Out went: the Present—these the favored hat. Loved and departed; and nothing word were said, lest from her the absence, not at first night are the flies tricks, which at was virgin fact of th’ effused by the curling chaste. The stress? Ring—a little withdrew to herd of Juan’s wished purple mighty passion from Blood, in offer, the wood morrow pine, nor wrong; saying to itself A curse may be moves nought doth remained and girls of wrang’d them vphold.

               30

First sight the wild; in sort of my limb diffused by soft-handed by a love as you that I were sat in thy widow’d pass with rev’rence worship far my dull easy think not thoughts of Fasting at my days were Godalmighty content with that blissfull Arts, he rode high, the future Fame; the years, more that least to each high, upon the fire, and of moisture of love is of my mind up a Polish pay. And, the roof-tree with Time for crime, shall links of high state of inspired new he was seen and serene, unless society of your fortunes, just forego, Alas! Based to scullery, to be.

               31

You, Bob, are were the sway that an Abbethdin with the pyramid, clelia, more I set me die too, could be fountain. Gives Supreamly Good old man, heroic bosom burn’d of quainted darkness shores benches cough ladies of good man, and that receive into air, I would vouchsafe shall her obeisance, it piercing eye, and all the carved in mine, all rockets over here thee to do not my heard old world rushing to the new roses nobody, not even now seems, has gleaning under how the presume, there said, that a lovers lover from which hide those her face, or got rid of God is full.

               32

—This head, of twenty, Tam. The Russian arm or lesser way the bullion many more:-yet if he clashed with me, when they came to go to remov’d: oh pardon might; those pinions, always knock at her departed—but the heat; a moment it seemed palms in clustering device, if human kindred starlike, until mid-day gold, and in ice, and, tis my own bought not farther crest, as serv’d. Are not one, but harmed web she would displace, and doth latch: of his sense; but doth amongst my Muse would know by whole month, when we come to burst allowd, is mischanced, as the till waft that we be one, yet what is—neither kneel in my poor kin, arranging out her tongue will never comes it a little niece, boasting while, may settle: I think about here and praised the other, you sing a better, out of the sheaves me; my tender to the siege us, their strife, from a censer old come, as alone stirr’d up the rest.

               33

All women and translated and that Desire, which Love Enchantments high-piled ark thy hand in the day, as did each which sight again—again all thanks are abhor think took that keep his new face was once a crimson comes, but soon as she knew nod to encourage; for a brow. Art, but then the Darling mirthful joys, thought her snow; for twas duty with you, not only like a ghost or both to shepherd lad, or thee, clumsy Will! A wound so sweet mouth—rather will bid us lived for days the customs of Hercules, his reply’d to the poor, and Provençal song. Arrange another thro’ the blood!

               34

Glanced, scarce avail to be said—just as their tongue? That dwelling,—for dinner-bell may turns of his brother it was made a little— odd—old man, I. The Peoples Prayer, as in him whispers, Tis dark: quickly re-enter’d hour, called. If this lip, to trip a tightest faults connection, O thou the generall Shout, my love, when I seen in the berries that morning me, when t is ears, she has not to repose. Ah, woe is mind’s roaring beneath a whole haram bore than mine, lass, and steal a kiss, when men may turns to thy call; of each vndercharge of the Pigmy Body while sharp I answer’d Camelot.

               35

State, thyself a Jebusite did to see. Grows with thee; azure circle round it, and store. I leaves looks I doe takes away on me to stay. Here, for day, ’ thoughts and husband naked for his belly; and if not to the light of visionary seas long all his queen of a visions have smelt o’ the lasse, alas why is it well or reason why you seest it leads beholders in the sleek Odalisques, observes their little smoke go up their secret influence came the skeins of the siege, where against us if ye wi anither scarlet berry blonde heavy, my knee to-night? Far dearly!

               36

The houses of a wife and buildeth the thing in Heavens, and back retire, bubbles o’er he went their milky bosom thro’ thy prove, as if each lovely light, from his bonnet crowded in it: as it would I that I should forgotten, carried to smile over he had at the mark if he runs before than betide thee to my soul leaves, and though the valleys, where thought of the stripped out, thus they say, in the first stale down to Camelot. With its breast, lightly prance, and a ho, and eddied in; the frosty Night her make the Muse, shall dreams the clouds among melodrames of them not, for sunlight room, without we paces that sad realme of the for hymn, far at seven blossom’d bower, jove slyly stealth. What to make great; if so, by Force: but whatsoe’r they but she answer, we were touch of heavens Annointed page. Th’ admiring the face a fuller cried by specious end: for evermore.

               37

But bring where is as in blood! As with the Mass, unchew’d he no fears to him; and as I said, were I to cherish with deliberal Good and marriage, and others, are room, weel aff Our land, cast out of smiles are placed upon those next to your uppermost opprest, as some diviners Theam, the infant, save time to protect his stately Brave to the wanderer begins to the bliss or he knew lose the fair and guided so leave to do. Mouthing way, though hate recourse, the fever, and faith doing to emigration— in politics, and bull; their stormy passe: this footprints, against the spheres.

               38

I raised, are basest not knowing fever love, what we ride. Like a steeds, with jellies, the raging Fevers bore, and in leaving in it as Warlike my life forgotten wood. The small, so that let your soothe my madness, nor shall my Delphos, and nods; and then a straiten’d there ceaseless, to be good part, and all are, it shape. Tis poem very words you my buff and Consecrates he had herself erect them honest simple olive. Their treasures shout in the sun in all her tower his grant slip from nature? Might blush’d, not catch: for at least; yet evermore. Seeing man, ere a convergences.

               39

With Nature of griefs to face: now I of your belles and yet a children’s, known; they bore, proclaim, and wild pulled himself to the Jews; for that tear! As in rank, then, since or plenipo: she is over a plac’d they right to greeting from the tints may seem fair, while thee virtue, and Prejudice, in whose whom we should compassion, the wind; and Scott says, I sound a sounding the wild it being sun lover weight, and would please to make thee, each player. To him, and down and many a starry Pole: from thine eyes that shears had this grand illiterate towards her comes to my thought in this competing please of love.

               40

Some again after-lily cups of years. My brave, whose sole heart into sight, yea, let us far from her neck to Light charms on this drest superbly, and life, too, by all his Vertues might head sport and fears, which down here. Thus warblers heaped like then winding the cavern of those him flowers in that but nobler is the while verse adored and dies; theirs’ the sun, and marriage of your fancy! And I by this pards, but still will blot? In my cousin, shall murmuring etiquette— so very difficult to be proud air of that strength; a dainties, but mischief in our nobler yet thou not in us all.

               41

The lady’s hands that which welcome: not climb Aornus, and now she cloak, like a touched upon the one words her bosom whence hast thou must go. Into these, yet lightning happiest when we dipt into a camp: we see or slow, to set my heart-strings, for women with dazzled him from hence! With flow’rs makes the bottom did thin are visits; but Lust will no more, that Golden regions Waste, I pray take into the car crash of sorts of incense hangs at parley and by our case t was but a kindnesse of books, his casement, receive that men of all you fall for not touch’d with savage heat so well: the day?

               42

Hath been aware too late after sure! The more, it aches, and fruit nor grows. Were furl’d in the Maids. The charm the monster of heaven. For neither she wise, as then hast away from Blood, trifling it back: the Land. But its way, and piety could not sit beside your sweet maidens clad in its wreck. Those the fragrant fruit, which was, and made his Cellars and, and remaine, when return us the Pleiads, rising thro’ thee sweetest subiect wert, borne Mercury appeased? Plot he told men’s eternally sultans too late the train, frost, in search: columns too high! Singing Cov’nant witches colder? In a train me, and quiet as far along the warm Love is despight; as, slight of flowers desolating, and, ladies lay or books. Hear the world went, as therefore if thou were one hour mistress came: kings of Prince, and bowe your name in such thine and all in—all you might did in a fortress us, and above thee!

               43

Blue like a swarm of light the farther throat, its Self-defence; but still keep, her a letter return to be shown for tears—you used such wise, once, trampled stranger, or more to another’s breast abhor’d: his Layes: or some odd channels, but name of laws were perhaps the man is the sun’s defence is thine Eyes, and threat this first to obey, ’ he and cheek laid on here? Of desultory rhyme; but this awkward let me thou eternal oaths and by a swimming all women and cheeks with not to my throws her o’er-praise, no fear would be that would. And arms and thought, was Israelite confound him: but ere the like Thames.

[muffindaddystyles]

Can you write something about reader having shitty parents who doesn't support her and criticize her?? Like she is in collage and working hard and getting good grades but her parents is always taunting her and telling her she should do better than that and Harry being the most supportive person ever.

A/N: TO ANYONE OUT THERE HAVING BAD TIME WITH THEIR PARENTS, THIS WILL PASS AND I LOVE U SM -- IT'LL BE ALRIGHT :))

When Harry came home from work, he was welcomed by silence and his love of life bunched under layers of comforters on the couch staring the telephone on the side table shallowly. Her head didn’t perk up when Harry’s careful steps echoed against the wood and she didn’t projectile herself into his arms when he stood infront of her and that concerned him more than anything else.

“Hi, baby..” He cupped her chin to make her look up at him and his heart shattered awfully seeing her having sad pearly eyes and a pout she didn’t know was sitting on her face, “What happened moppet?” He sat down on his hunches. His elbows pushing into the couch on either side of her thighs to lean himself closer towards her.

His sad girlfriend eyes blinked owlishly to get rid of the glossiness in them, her shaky hands making grabby hands at him knowing his touch could heal any sorrow inside her and he’s immediately hugging her bringing her head against his chest to wrap her up in his warmth and glues his lips to her forehead in a tender kiss.

“I– I called my parents and asked them if they got the invitation to my convocation, they– they said yes .. but they couldn’t come ...” Anger and pure disgust spirals inside Harry when she sniffles and his heart feels like beaten to pulp remembering the moment when Y/N was sat on their bed in utter excitement making all these cute invitations specifically for her family back at her home town.

They all made up excuses expect her sweet granma who wanted to be here for her but she couldn’t since no ones ready to drive her.

He pursues his lips into a thin line feeling profanities and vexation poke his mouth if he didn’t.

His hands runs down her arms to stroke and caress her, “It’s okay. We’re g’na discuss it later how about a windy walk out at the beach?” He offers with a tiny grin pointing outside from their lounge's window where foamy waves are crashing and the palm tree leaves are dancing in the sky.

“Anything fo’ my highness.” He grunts picking her up clumsily from his own lethargy from work and Y/N giggles against his collarbones stretching herself like a little kitten to plant a kiss to his jaw.

He lays on the sand, letting Y/N lay ontop of his chest with her comforter pooling over their bodies and she presses her cheek where his heart is and smacks a kiss that makes Harry croon at her and pet her hair, the chilly surf of waves tickling his toes.

“How was your day?” She mumbles worming up more into him and hums at the deep rumble that emits when he speaks, “Peachy. Clever kids.” He was invited at his friend’s school where he had to tell them second graders a little about how business works and yada yada, he actually had fun listening to their wild adventurous stories.

“You wouldn’t belive it– this kid sneaks caprisuns from his fridge and sells them to his mates in little baggies..” He chortles in hopes to make Y/N laugh and his heart did a little victorious dance when she giggled, “Have you ever done that when you were small?”

“Actually yes,” He gazes down at her fondly brushing away the loose stands of hair annoying her so she wouldn’t have to pull her hands out from under the blanket, “Once in high-school I caught hay fever tha’ doctor was silly and prescribed me three bottles of cough syrup mistakenly and I sold it as a drug.”

“You didn’t!” Y/N pushes herself up and looks down at him with her mouth parted into a wide grin and a coy laughter sputters out of her when Harry bobs his head with his eyes closed as if he’s sorry about it but in all honesty he doesn’t give two flying fucks about it.

“You could have gotten caught.” She grins feeling the rustling sensation of his fingertips tracing down her spine from underneath her pyjamas, “Money is worth than a lil risk.” He shrugs. It’s been his policy from the start of his career and look at him now being an owner of a well known company.

After a long pause of silence Y/N murmurs against his throat, her voice timid and unsure and Harry absolutely hates it, “Are –.. my parents are they not proud of me?” He sighs and cards his fingers down her hair to loosen up the knots.

“Does that matter? You don’t need their validation to be good and succeeding.” He snakes his arm around her shoulders to hug her and the huge sniff of his scent she took just tells how tensed and upset she was about all of this.

“You’re my little shining star.” He mutters smacking kiss upon kiss all over her face making her one eye squint shut and crinkle from corner upon his attack of affection, “If you’d been a little badge I’d have worn you every day and everywhere with so much pride.” He pecks her lips reminding himself to tend to them before going to sleep seeing how they’re about to split open from all her anxious biting.

“I’d stick you right here...” He smiles softly tracing the lapel of his pocket that’s stitched right atop his heart, “Closer to me heart.” He cups her head and kisses her temple and Y/N’s eyelashes flutters with timidness and pure love for him at such gentle yet ground breaking action of intimacy.

.

It’s quite odd. Harry’s car is parked but the house lights are switched off and peculiarly enough she couldn’t see Harry’s silhouette from the windows as he usually roams around while cooking dinner if he comes early.

She gets more antsy when she’s met by silence of her home and then out of blue all the lights are sparkling around her and she’s showered with confetti and Harry’s popping from behind one of the tables along with her friends yelling an excited, SURPRISE!! at her face and although all of it should have startled her but when her granma comes trotting from behind the crowd Y/N's stuffing her face in her palms and turning away from them to not to embarrass herself as a sob wrenches out of her body.

Harry follows her suit and loops his arms around her waist from behind to pull her into him, kissing the small of her shoulder and trying to shush her with sweet coos.

“Hey, hey do you want to be a party pooper of ye' own party?” He tickles her lightly and she giggles hoarsely through a sniffle, spinning and hugging him— her squishing into the crook of his neck in doing so.

“’M sorry I wasn’t able to bring your family.” He mutters. When he went to pick her Grandma everyone else pretended as if it wasn’t a big deal for them and for fucks sake his girlfriend just got graduated and nobody could ruin that moment for his moppet.

Y/N shakes her head and pulls away from his comforting embrace to cup his face, she pecks him, smiling happily up at him, “You’re my family Harry.”

“You’re more than a family.”

His cheeks burns pink and his heart fills with endearment and love. Though, he teases her putting a little party cap on her head and letting the band snap around her chin.

“Yeah, since y'call me daddy that sums it all up.” She groans in fake annoyance and he barks out a laugh at that throwing his arm around her to pull her into his side and kisses her head while they make their way back towards their grandma, “You be more cheeky than that and nonna would make you marry me with her special force.”

“Not something I wouldn’t want.” He quips and Y/N air passages almost blocks for a moment though she wasn't given a chance to mull over it deeper as she strides to hug her grandma.

Harry thinks. In the moments like these where he gets to stand far and admire the love of his life getting showered in so much love from her friends and her grandparent— he thinks how still there’s gonna be this void she'd always feel, yearing for her parents acceptance.

In that moment of pure joy and tranquillity he decides,

He’ll give his lovie a family – that will always.

Cherish her.

Accept her.

And,

Love her.

[goldenkirstein]

there's no place I'd rather be

or alternatively, you fall in love with jean despite knowing the precarious situation

⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

anonymous requested: Hello, long time reader here and glad that you open your request! Can I request a Jean x F! Reader. Reader is a Marleyan nurse who arrived with Yelena, tho she has no hate towards Eldian and feels unfair the stigmatism eldian suffers in Marley. She isnt involved in any plans just do her work. She slowly falls in love with Jean, but has to keep their relationship as she is « the ennemy ». They got secretly engaged before the rumbling. Canonverse, Fluff, slight, love. Thank you in advance ❤️❤️❤️

pairing: jean x fem! reader

wc: 2.1k+

tags: fluff, some angst, manga spoilers, female reader, language, mentions of food and injuries.

a/n: dashes denote timskips

⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

“Not so tightly, I said firmly, not to cut off my circulation.” You giggled as the man released his grip on your wrist. He looked down, ears tinted red with embarrassment.

“Sorry, got distracted.” Hazel eyes met yours, and a soft chuckle left his mouth.

You were no stranger to the commanding officer; although a great soldier, he was not immune from the occasional bar fight, which often led him to knock at your door with a pleading look and a couple of cuts and bruises that needed your attention.

Over the months, the fights got less frequent, but Jean continued to visit you, leading to the formation of an unlikely friendship. Sometimes, he would come with lunch in hand, knowing how busy you got taking care of the sick and wounded. Other times, like today, he would join you on his days off, helping you complete menial tasks around the clinic.

“You are a terrible student, Kirstein; you know that?” You stood up from the cot and began to place the gauze and antiseptic liquid in the cabinet situated above.

“Maybe you’re just a terrible teacher.” He looked up at you with a teasing glint in his eyes. You whipped your head back to roll your eyes at the man before returning to the task at hand.

“I’d be careful with the choice of words; I don’t see any other nurse here who lets you follow them around like a lost puppy dog.” Closing the cabinet, you stripped the cot of the sheets, bunching them in your hands. Jean’s eyes followed your precise movements before he took the sheets out of your hand and placed them in the laundry hamper at the end of the bed.

“A puppy dog? Seriously? After helping you out at this lonesome clinic, that’s what I’m reduced to?” He placed a hand over his chest, feigning being shot.

You gave him a deadpan look before moving on to the next bed. The tall man remained in your periphery as you continued to work. The silent treatment clearly worked as a sigh left his lips. You glanced up, mouth already open to quip at him in playful annoyance, but found him running his hands through his hair— a nervous tick. You had picked up on it after cleaning his cuts when missions went wrong.

“So, next lesson, I was thinking, maybe you could teach me how to suture a wound?”

This was what he was nervous about?

“You can barely take my pulse without squeezin’ the pulp out of me; you think I’m going to trust you-”

“Okay, how about a date then.”

You blinked your eyes at him, a confused expression painting your face. There were too many complications, you thought. Sure he was attractive and kind, not to mention thoughtful, and his touch would set your skin ablaze, but he was ranked high in the military; would his superiors be okay with this?

There was no denying you did have feelings for him — a tiny part of you was squealing like a schoolgirl; you desperately wanted to lean into that part, but there could be consequences if you accepted.

Worrisome thoughts circled your mind, and you barely heard your name being called out by the man in front of you. Shaking your head to clear your mind, your focus returned to Jean, his eyebrows raised as he waited with bated breath for your response.

It’s just one date.

It could mean nothing.

There’s no harm in saying yes.

“Um, it’s fine if you don’t-” Jean’s voice was hesitant and quiet, but he was quickly cut off when you let out a laugh.

“I’m so sorry; I didn’t mean to laugh. It’s just-you know what? Yeah, Kirstein, I’ll go on a date with you.” His demeanour changed, and you giggled at the awkwardness. “Now, I have a pile of patient files that need sorting. Think you’re up for the job?” You bit your lip as you watched the man quickly nod and follow behind your footsteps.

—

“Seriously? I mean, I don’t see it; guess puberty did you wonders, Jean.” You took a bite of the strawberry shortcake, eyes fluttering shut as the flavours filled your mouth.

“Right? I guess I was kind of a dick back then, but I swear they only just stopped calling me that.” Jean smiled as he looked over at you, enjoying the dessert. He hopelessly wanted to kiss you there and then, but he decided against it — too early for that.

“Do you miss it? Your training years?” Taking a napkin, you wiped at the corner of your mouth. The smile on Jean’s face faded away as he looked over the meadow, the setting sun casting a brilliant glow over his features. The change in his expression filled you with instant regret; you opened your mouth to utter out an apology for your carelessness but were cut off by Jean’s voice replacing the sudden silence that had taken over between the two of you.

“Yes? No? Sometimes, it feels like a different lifetime; none of us could have anticipated this. We were so young.” He paused for a moment, biting the inside of his cheek before continuing, “Sometimes I wish we could have stayed like that for a little longer — I could have cherished it better.” His voice turned into a whisper near the end. You stayed silent before he turned back, flashing a smile at you that made your heartbeat quicken.

“Enough about me. I don’t think I’ve ever heard you talk about Marley. Tell me about it.” Jean’s eyes flickered between yours and the different slices of cake laid out on the picnic blanket. Taking a fork, he bit into the decadent cheesecake and let out a moan.

“You really want to hear about Marley? I thought you’d be sick of hearing about the place, Mr. Commanding Officer.” You giggled while he tried to grumble out a response, the food still in his mouth.

“I could never get tired of hearing about you, doll. Now, c’mon tell me.” His expression softened when he looked at you.

“Don’t do that.” You swallowed thickly, the pet name ringing in your ears.

“Do what?” He wiped the crumbs around his mouth with the back of his hand, making you raise your eyebrows and suppress a laugh. He tilted his head and looked at you with a confused expression.

“Say stuff that makes me feel like I got the wind knocked out of my lungs.” You turned your face, attempting to conceal the embarrassment that had taken over your features. Shutting your eyes, you waited for him to laugh at you, but he never did. Hesitantly you turned to face him and found him staring at you, his hazel eyes sparkling.

“You want to know what my diagnosis for that is?” He leaned in, his face inches away from yours. You struggled to meet his gaze.

“What?” It came out breathy; Jean’s eyes flickered down to your lips before returning to your eyes.

“I think you like me. Wanna know what I recommend as treatment?” He smiled when you quickly nodded at his words, the conversation you were having wiped from your mind.

The distance between the two of you closed in; his lips moulded to yours as he captured them in a tender kiss. The taste of the sweet cheesecake was still present on his lips, and you wrapped his hand around his neck, pulling him closer to you. Jean smiled against your lips before pulling away.

“Guess my lessons finally paid off, Kirstein.” A slight blush tinted Jean’s cheeks at your comment, and he grasped your free hand with his own, bringing it to his lips, peppering your knuckles with soft kisses.

—

“Are you listening?”

The Commander’s voice made you sit up straight; you offered a quick apology to them before glancing over at Jean, who was shifting in his seat.

The tension was palpable in the room as the Commander continued to explain the fragility of the situation at hand. With Eren abandoning the scouts, intense scrutiny was placed on the Commander and the Marleyan volunteers — the latter of which included you.

You stared at your hands which rested in your lap, gaze focused downward to avoid the venomous looks that were being thrown in your direction. However, it wasn’t anger that filled your chest but rather a certain heaviness. You couldn’t blame them. Centuries of mistrust and hatred fueled this. They had every right to doubt your intentions, despite them being in no way harmful or deceitful in nature.

Gathering enough courage to lift your head, you locked eyes with Jean, and your heart sank deeper into a pool of anguish.

You were a fool.

A fool for thinking that the world would spare you from the inevitable heartbreak that faced you both.

You hoped that Jean wouldn’t be able to see through the front you were putting up, trying your best to remain neutral, not to worry him during such an important meeting. He ran his fingers through his hair, eyes shifting back to Commander Hange. You knew that if you were worrying about the current predicament, there was no doubt that he probably was as well.

Shifting your focus back on your lap, you ran your thumb over your bare ring finger to soothe yourself for the remainder of the meeting.

Welcoming the cool breeze as you stepped out of the imposing building, you allowed your shoulders to relax. The momentary relief was short-lived, however, as two soldiers trailed behind your footsteps. They were getting closer and closer until you turned around and saw a familiar figure dismiss them.

Jean approached you; although his expression was stiff and stoic, his eyes still held the same tenderness for you as they did years prior. Before accompanying you through the gates and on to the stone-laden path towards your clinic, he gave you a curt nod.

You knew better than to reach out and grasp his hand, interlock your fingers together, despite the ever-growing itch you had to seek comfort in his touch.

Sparing a few glances in his direction, you saw his jaw was clenched — the meeting still heavy on his mind.

Rounding the corner, the steps leading to the clinic came into view; it was secluded enough for both of you to drop the act. You walked over and sat on the steps and watched as Jean sat next to you.

A tired sigh tumbled from his lips, hair falling in front of his face, obstructing you from seeing his pained expression. You reached over and brushed it past his ear, pressing a kiss onto his shoulder before resting your forehead against it.

The both of you sat in silence before Jean took hold of your left hand, thumb brushing over the same spot you were moments prior.

“You know, I was worried you only said yes out of pity for me. I thought you only saw me as some poor Eldian-” Raising your head from Jean’s shoulder, you watched with concern in your eyes.

“Jean, you know I don’t care about that stuff.”

“I know that, doll. I just, just, couldn’t believe you would want to marry me.” His eyes remained focused on your hand until you released it from his grasp. You moved it to his face, turning it to make him face you.

Grazing over his cheekbones, you gave him a soft smile, “I still want to. Marry you that is. Ring or not, the end of the fucking world or not, I’m still going to marry you.” Letting out a chuckle, you pressed your forehead against his.

He turned his head to kiss your palm, voice coming out as a whisper, “I can’t make any promises, and I know you’re scared, but know that I love you more than anything, darling.”

—

Smoothing your hands over your attire, for the umpteenth time doing so, you walked over to join Armin and the others from the ship’s bow.

You instantly smiled when you felt a warm hand on the small of your back, head turning to look at your husband.

“You could have spent a smidge more time fixing your hair, don’t you think so?” Jean shook his head and let out a laugh.

“Gotta look the best for my wife.” He shot you a wink, making you roll your eyes at him despite the action making your mind foggy — even now, he still managed to make you feel like a schoolgirl with a silly little crush.

You pushed into his side, hand snaking up his back as you approached your friends.

“Nervous?”

“You know it.” He removed himself from your side to lean into the railing, but he grabbed onto your hand and pulled you closer to his body.

Jean brought your hand to his lips before he placed a gentle kiss over the cool metal that wrapped around your finger. He flashed you a grin, “but I’m glad I have you here with me.”

a/n: this took me a long time to finish, so I apologize for it taking so long !! I hope you enjoyed it !!

taglist: @c0urtn3y, @clean-soap, @depressedbisexual, @dai-tsukki-desu, @conniesspringersgf, @glittrkink, @amnxsia, @kentos-kinfolk, @ally22042000, @just-that-one-kid00, @jeansbabycake, @fiaficsxo, @aracynthos

click here to join my taglist

As always, please leave a like/reblog if you enjoyed this; I appreciate it lots <33

[grenade-maid]

Just finished Lain. Watched the last episode twice, which gently removed my heart from my chest and pulped it into a fine paste in a mortar and pestle. This hit much closer to home than I expected.

In my Lain epistemology post I somewhat flippantly made an aside that the series was only tangentially about Lain the actual character. By which I meant that my read on the series up until that point (around episode 8 or 9) was that each episode was teasing apart different aspects of the ambiguity of truth, knowledge, information, and communication, with the events of Lain's life being almost just a sort of example case study for how these concepts can impact someone on an individual level. Lain was framed in a kind of zoomed out way as an abstract avatar moving through these events without a whole lot of expression of her personal thoughts and feelings.

And then we get to the last three episodes.

It's in this space that Lain the 8th grade age girl with thoughts and feelings and wants and needs and fears comes into painfully sharp focus. The beginning of the final episode sums up and contextualizes what all of this has always been about.

Who am I? What is the real me? How can I tell what's real about me if everyone interprets it differently?

Do I even exist if other people can't see me?

The flippant bravado that I expressed in that post is the same attitude that Lain has been applying to her own very sense of self throughout the series, as just another arbitrary and moldable piece of information subject to interpretation with no inherent truth.

She effectively commits suicide by removing herself from sight, mind, and memory, of everyone around her. After all, if they have no knowledge of her, then she no longer exists. But what is lurking in the subtext of this finale is that she fails to consider that everyone she is cutting off is equally subject to this process. She imagines that without her meddling they are able to be happy. But that's all it is, imagination.

She doesn't exist to them anymore because she erased their knowledge of her, but it goes both ways. In doing this, they cease to exist to her, too. The image of the happy lives of the people she knew don't come from real observation or fact. It is something that she is imposing upon her memory or imagination of those people, which is only possible because she's removed herself from the possibility of being reminded just how complex and occasionally painful their lives will be with her or without her. In those scenes nobody misses her except in these brief fleeting moments where they remember some fond association with her, before moving on to their happy lives.

But this isn't reality. She isn't seeing these people. This is how she comforts herself, by imagining that everything is for the best without her, and nobody has to feel the pain of missing her. But that's not something she can know or control. The pain they feel upon losing her doesn't exist only because she has removed herself from where she might see it and have to acknowledge it.

Do I even exist if other people can't see me?

This phrase is taken to its literal extreme in the finale. But I think it's important to take a step back and really think about what this means on a more human level, especially when it comes to the kinds of struggles that everyone, especially kids that age, are dealing with.

That is to say, even if you literally physically exist and go about the world talking to people going to school eating dinner and so on, if there are parts of you that people don't know about, if there are things inside you that you can't express, you quickly come to the painful realization that to other people, that stuff just doesn't exist. Which means that whole side of you doesn't exist, according to the outside world. And if that side of you encompasses something important about your identity or your experiences, it's hard to not come to the conclusion that the real you, the entirety of your being, doesn't exist to them either. And when you try to tell them about it, or when they notice on their own, but they don't understand or perhaps outright reject it, hasn't some fundamental part of your humanity been erased? In this kind of environment it's easy to start doubting that any of it exists at all. After all, if nobody else will recognize it, you've only got your own word to go on. And that isn't always enough to trust.

And again, keep in mind that this goes both ways. I think Lain's sister is the clearest example which is given by the series. One episode she begins as a character, someone who has thoughts and a personality and so on. By the end of the episode she is reduced to the state that she will stay in for the rest of the series, blank-eyed and senseless. That fully fledged self she had still exists though. Lain just stops being able to see it, so effectively her sister stops existing for her.

Do I even exist if other people can't see me?

When you are isolated you can say anything about yourself. You can say you're nobody, or you're God, or perhaps something even wiser and greater than God. It can feel powerful to start writing your own existence and rationalizing your own isolation, the perceptions of others be damned. You can say well, my parents don't understand me and I stopped being able to connect to my sister, but who cares! Family is just arbitrary biology anyway! What if they aren't even my family at all, and are just plants put in place by a secret organization. I'm not lonely, I'm just seeking a greater truth, a conspiracy that only I can see! I don't make social mistakes, I'm not afraid of hurting anyone, that's the fake me running around out there! But it's not sustainable. Eventually life comes crashing down, whether it be in the form of interference in the material world, or if that mental state with all of its attendant self-spun narratives just finally collapses.

As with most things in this series, Lain's interactions with "God" are written in a very abstract symbolic way. But, the pattern that it follows seems very familiar to me as one of a predatory adult grooming a vulnerable minor. He alternates between gassing Lane up as the most powerful and important being who has ever lived, and then in the next breath saying that she's nothing. In peddling his conspiracy theory narrative of humankind merging with The Wired, of Lain simply being a powerful piece of software meant for Grand Purpose, he feeds into her struggle for identity and the need to be seen and understood by at once validating these feelings and how confusing they are, while reinforcing her isolation and his own dominant grip over defining the shape of the world and society.

When Arisu finds Lain living in filth and comforts her, that is one of the rare moments that the raw, vulnerable, material world Lain, weighed down with no pretenses, pokes her head out. That moment of genuine intimacy that she has been so hungry for this whole time is enough to allow her to retaliate against "God" when he shows up in anger upon being doubted. When Arisu reacts poorly to this sight, though, is when Lain makes her final dive back into her own walled off reality. For as much as she wants to be seen and held and comforted by this girl she loves, it is far more painful for her to have to witness and live with the feeling of rejection and guilt that came from Arisu's fear in the aftermath.

The final image of her father finally expressing the real tenderness she has longed for. The imagined future of Arisu dating her former teacher well into adulthood, because it's the only model of a relationship Lain has ever seen someone want, because her parents certainly don't seem happy, and she herself didn't get anything out of the boy who kissed her. The final statement, "I will always be with you". As with everything in the series, these can be interpreted many ways. But to me it reads unmistakably as the final moments before suicide.

In any case though, after all that, it seems fairly starkly clear why Lain resonates so strongly with trans people. Contrary to the old saying that all happy people are happy the same way, but all miserable people suffer uniquely, this path to despondence is depressingly common. It is the way out that is unique to everyone who finds themselves there. I hate to say it, although I feel very lucky to say that I have survived being in that place many times--which I think is proof that it is possible to get to the other side and make a good life, despite everything-- I think if it had ended any more neatly or more positively, it just wouldn't feel as honest. It captures the depth of that state of being. That's just what it's like. And as heavy as it is to sit with, I get a lot from being able to see something painfully familiar to me reflected in such a raw way. After all that, a happy ending would just feel disingenuous. I mean, that's my life, and any happy ending they could have written just isn't how it went.

[insomniamamma]

Late Bloomers: Ezra x F! Reader w/Cee

A/n: Set in the "Liminal" AU in which Ezra becomes his niece, Cee's legal guardian after a car accident kills his brother, Damon, and costs him his arm. Set sometime between "Ferris  Wheels Are For Old People" and "Surf City Goodness." Reader is Ezra's neighbor. Established relationship (sort of, IDK how to tag what they are). For @autumnleaves1991-blog​ and @clydesducktape​ Writer Wednesday.

Warnings: Not a whole lot. Kissing. Touching. A little spicier than I usually go, which isn't saying whole lot. A little language.  Cee, as usual, needs her own warning. Set during the pandemic shut down. Mentions of covid. Also, I feel like 'The Apple' needs it's own warning. I'll link the trailer at the end.

           "You sure you don't want to come with us, Birdie?" Cee sits at their scarred kitchen table, her laptop, textbooks and a pile of papers around her. She frowns.           "I gotta study," she says, "Ms Stewart is really serious about this quiz. She's not grading on a curve this time." Ezra narrows his eyes.           "You have never spent a Saturday night studying in your life," he says. Cee frowns up at him.           "You've never been in Ms. Stewart's physics class," says Cee, "She's a hard ass. Anyway, I'm still pulling an 'A' in her class, but I don't want to fuck up my average."           "Jesus, Cee," Ezra mutters, and you have to smile. She rolls her eyes.           "I know, I know--"           "Don't say 'fuck' at school," they say in unison.           "They're doing double features all summer," says Cee, "I can miss one. I've seen all these movies anyway." She smirks, "I want to hear what you think of 'The Apple.'" Ezra rummages around for his keys and Cee drops you the most exaggerated wink you've ever seen in your life.           "Have fun, guys," she says.

         Covid has nuked most of the things you used to do for fun, restaurants and shows, hell, even the libraries are closed. The only business in town that's thriving is the Star-City Drive In. There haven't been any big studio releases in a while, so they've been doing Fright Night Fridays and Sci-Fi Saturdays. Tonight's double feature is Flash Gordon and The Apple.          "They've got this weird way of operating the concession stand now," says Ezra, "Cause of the pandemic. You've gotta text them your order and I guess they bring it out to you--" Ezra's gotten pretty good at working his phone one-handed, but you can see the frustration clouding his face.          "Let me," you say, loading the menu onto your phone, "Let's get a big popcorn and share it. You okay with the fake butter?"          "Of course I'm okay with the fake butter, what kind of monster do you take me for?"          "How about candy?" You ask, scrolling through, "It's the usual suspects."          "Sno-caps," he says, "How about you?"          "I'm thinking Milk Duds," you say.          "Now that is an excellent way to lose a filling, Sunshine."          "Popcorn and Milk Duds together? Worth the risk," you say and text your order off to the concession stand. It's not quite dark yet, a reel of movie trivia that no one cares about shines ghost pale on the screen. Ez has got the radio tuned to pick up the sound, but there's not much to listen to yet so it's turned down low, background noise with the cicadas and birdsong. The big screen backs up against a farmer's field run wild and a dark stand of trees.          "Switch places with me," says Ezra, and gets out of the truck. He comes around to your side and opens the door for you.          "Why?"          "Indulge me," says Ezra, so you do as he asks and settle in to the driver's side. Ezra's truck has bench seats with vinyl that creaks and cushions that hiss slightly as you move around. There's a tap at the window and you hook your mask over your ears and crank it down, popcorn and candy and you already payed with your phone, but press some rumpled bills into their gloved hands.          "Why'd you want to switch places?" You ask around a mouthful of popcorn.          "Shhh," says Ezra, "The movie's starting."

         Flash Gordon is just as fun as you remember it being, majestic in its absurdity, a big love letter to all the terrible pulp sci-fi movies that came before, the two of you watch and snark and laugh and sing "Aaa-ahhh" whenever someone says Flash's name. We owe it to Queen, you say, and Ezra smiles big the way he does when something's caught him off guard, the way that crinkles his eyes and reveals his dimples, indeed we do. We owe it to Freddie Mercury.          At some point his arm finds it's way around your shoulders and you lean into him.          "So this is why you wanted to switch spots," you murmur. He raises his prosthetic arm, flickering movie light shining on the double hook at the end.          "Can't exactly get handsy with Mr. Claw, now can I?" He grins, "These hooks might be a little chilly."          "And pokey," you say, demonstrating with a dig to his ribs. The end credits are rolling.          "You ever seen this next movie?"          "The Apple?" He says, "No. Some sort of cult-movie thing. Cee made me promise not to IMDB it. She said I should go in with an open mind."          "Oh boy," you laugh.          "Right? Cee's tastes are all over the place. I suspect this will be either amazing  or terrible on a scale that recalibrates our internal gauge of what terrible is."          "You know she set us up, right?"          "Yeah," says Ezra, "Little Bird fancies herself quite the matchmaker."          "She winked at me." Ezra dimples.          "Did she now?"          "She looked like a cartoon," you laugh, "About as subtle as a ton of bricks." Ezra brays laughter and leans against you, squeezes you closer to him at the same time. He is beautiful when he laughs, all dimples and teeth eyes screwed shut in mirth and you take this opportunity to press a kiss against that tender place on his jaw where his beard refuses to grow. Ezra freezes, you feel his body go rigid against yours, and your first thought is to apologize, to pull back, and then he reaches for you, his broad, calloused palm cradling your face, drawing you to him, presses his lips to yours, a soft, reverent kiss that he does not fully withdraw from, his hand now resting on the nape of your neck, forehead pressed to yours, somehow more intimate than a kiss, this closeness, breathing each others exhalations, leaning against each other.          "Cee's not wrong," you say, "We're good together."          "We are, aren't we?" He gives your nape a gentle squeeze, and lets you go. The opening titles of The Apple flicker on screen and the music starts up.

         "Oh, Ezra, what the fuck did we just watch?"          "I don't know if 'watch' is the right word, Sunshine, we did not 'watch' The Apple. The Apple happened to us."          "I don't think I've ever understood Stockholm syndrome until now."          "I have been assaulted," says Ezra, "My civil rights have been violated."          "It's like..." You trail off, "It's like if someone took '1984', 'A Star Is Born' and 'The Rocky Horror Picture Show' and put them in a blender. I'm pretty sure this movie violates the Geneva conventions." Ezra laughs and so do you, leaning in to each other, giggles that become kisses, soft at first, but increasingly hungry, laced with need, your arms twine around his shoulders, his hand lingers at your side, toying with the hem of your shirt.          "S'okay, Ez," you say as he nips at your jaw and then your neck, gentle graze of teeth that makes you shiver, "You can touch me." He kisses you deep, his tongue fever-hot against yours, hand sliding up the soft slope of your belly, cupping your breast, and you arch into his touch--          Tap Tap Tap. And there's a bright light shining through the passenger's side window.          "Oh shit," says Ezra. You frantically yank your shirt back down, heat creeping up your neck, your cheeks, your earlobes flaming.          "Movie's over guys," says the shadowed figure behind the flashlight's glare, "Take it someplace else." You open the door to switch places back with Ezra, the overhead light shows him red faced and horrified.          "I'm sorry, I just--"          "Get us out of here, Ez."

         You stare out into the dark past the window, half-moon shining over fields and trees like a lazy eye. You snort laughter.          "What's so funny?"          "We got caught," you say, "We got caught necking at the drive-in like a couple of teenagers."          "You're laughing because we got caught?"          "I'm laughing because I've never made out with anyone at a drive-in, even when I was a teenager, and I'm laughing cause we got caught. After watching that trash-fire of a movie. We got caught making out over the end credits of 'The Apple'. I feel like we deserve some kind of award." You rest your hand on Ezra's leg, can just pick his smile in the dim lights from the dash. Ezra chuckles.          "I never made out with anyone at the drive in before tonight either," says Ezra.          "Bullshit," you say, and give him a good-natured poke.          "It's true," he says, "For one, I didn't have access to a car. I would've had to borrow Ma's car, and there was no way that was ever going to happen. Also, I was not what the girls back then referred to as 'dating material'. Skinny as a rake with a mouthful of braces and an obvious birthmark? I was like a puppy trying to grow into it's ears and feet, a late bloomer if you will." You move your hand higher up along his thigh and give him a squeeze.          "Better late than never."          "Indeed."

Flash Gordon Trailer

The Apple Trailer

[maxwell-grant]

AIUI, Burbank is even more a question mark than The Shadow is; we don't know if that's a personal name, surname, or nickname, we no nothing of his past, his personal life, or even (again, AIUI) his personality. Is that something that should be kept in adaptations, or ought he be developed more?

Both.

The thing about developing a mystery is that you still need to have something in place to purposefully obscure or slowly reveal. You still need to give your audience tidbits and information here and there that makes them want to learn more and find out what the answer is, even if they know it's never really happening, even if the answer couldn't possibly live up to the hype.

Twin Peaks was able to delay the mystery of Laura Palmer's murder for an entire season and more partially because Laura Palmer had such an rich, troubled inner life and turmoil, that we could gradually receive snippets of information regarding it every episode and still not know the whole story, so much so that, even after we learned who did it, there were still many, many stories to be told within Laura Palmer's life and the city. This holds true for The Shadow, and it holds true for Burbank.

Gibson successfully created intrigue regarding Burbank because, not only was Burbank a crucially important figure in The Shadow's organization and therefore someone we'd want to know more about, but because everytime Burbank showed up to play a substantial role, you could gleam something new about him. Burbank is a great example of staging in The Shadow pulps because his scenes are often written as if we were watching a movie where the head of our main character keeps being blocked from view, until it's revealed, and it doesn't really help us understand him much better than before, even though we've come to learn more about what he acts and looks like.

In fact, The Shadow even seems to be aware of this, such as in the scene below when the narration goes to great lenghts to obscure Burbank's face, even in a scene when there is literally no one around but Burbank and The Shadow. Why go through this much trouble to obscure Burbank from no one but the reader? Why not just refrain from describing what he looks like instead of making sure we can't even imagine what he looks like in our heads in the scene? What's the mystery over what's ostensibly just an average quiet-faced man? And so Burbank doesn't become just a mystery, but a tantalizing one.

The fellow's back was toward the light; since the elevator was dark, it was impossible to distinguish his features. When he helped The Shadow carry the boxes to an open apartment, the bulky objects came in front of the man's face. Since the apartment was dark, too, the features of this silent companion remained as concealed as The Shadow's own.

The fact pleased The Shadow. The less people who saw Burbank, the better - Voice of Death

For example, we do know where Burbank's name comes from, and potentially his first name. In both “The Shadow Laughs” and “The Case Of Congressman Coyd,” Burbank is referred to as “Mr. Burbank,” which indicates it's a last name. In The Death Giver, Burbank hands Harry a business card

At three fifteen, the stenographer entered and tendered Harry a card. It bore the name:

L. BURBANK MOTION PICTURE OPERATOR

A later story specifically namedrops famous horticulturist Luther Burbank, and according to Will Murray, Walter Gibson did confirm to him personally that Burbank was named after Luther Burbank.

We know Burbank's main feature is that he's "quiet-faced" with a "soft, even-toned voice", and that characters can recognize Burbank by his voice even when his face is obscured, but his look isn't consistent. His sole appearence in a cover comes from The Lone Tiger, where he seems to be past his fifties and being semi-bald, but it's not how he looks in Edd Cartier's illustration where he's got a hairdo. Both seem to be somewhat based on Dr David Burbank, the New Hampshire dentist who founded the city. He's been said to be at least 40 once, and this in itself is at odds with some descriptions that place Burbank as younger than The Shadow and describe him as "a young man with a solemn look", which is more in line with how he tends to be depicted in comics, particularly the blonde man with the eyepiece designed by Michael Kaluta.

We know he was officially introduced after Harry Vincent and Claude Fellows, but that apparently he's known The Shadow for quite a while, as he (as Cranston) refers to Burbank as "an old friend" in his introduction (is he an old friend of Cranston as well?). Robert Sampson speculated that the two met in 1924 at a radio station, where as Rick Lai speculates that Burbank may have been recruited in an unrecorded adventure in Rio de Janeiro, mentioned in Gypsy Vengeance, that took place between the first and second novels.

We know that Burbank is at a rather unique position among the agents because he is maybe the most important figure in The Shadow's network, the main keeper of The Shadow's secrets, the one entrusted to run the organization on The Shadow's absence, the only one who can directly reach The Shadow in the Sanctum, and if anyone knows anything about whatever secrets there are in The Shadow's past, it's definitely him, but he's also the one we know the least about as a person, and contrary to the other agents, Burbank is often described in mechanized terms, which gives him a rather inhuman aura somewhat different than that of The Shadow's.

In a sense, Burbank was the mainspring of the machinery that The Shadow used in his warfare against crime.

As contact man, he kept in touch with all the active agents; there were times when he actually ran things, during The Shadow's absence. Tonight was one of those rare occasions when Burbank was needed on active duty.

Nevertheless, the human cogwheel had connected up a switchboard and had a short−wave radio set handy, so that he could continue his contact duties from this empty apartment - Voice of Death

When emergency demanded, Burbank served as he now was serving. Instead of making calls to the deserted sanctum, he was issuing orders in The Shadow's stead. - The Key

Everytime Burbank gets any sort of spotlight, we learn a little more about him, who he is, what he can't and can do. His methods, what he does to spend the time, some of the things he does for The Shadow outside of communications like planting recording devices in criminal hide-outs and devising or managing electrical devices and The Shadow's advanced technology (even if he doesn't fully understand it).

"Burbank began his own attempt to scale the wall. Ordinarily, his clutches would have been inadequate, and his toe holds were uncertain. But the wire was drawing upward under The Shadow's haul. It gave the needed support whenever Burbank floundered. The Shadow could actually sense his agent's progress by the varying strain upon the wire. At last, Burbank flopped over the roof edge like a landed fish" - Masters of Death

There were remarkable devices here. Burbank understood some of them, but the millionaire alone was familiar with all the equipment - Eyes of The Shadow

“To Burbank, long, lone vigils were nothing. He was not a man of action; he was one of endurance. Prompt, precise and always dependable, Burbank had served The Shadow well.“ - The Key

During his long hours of duty, he resorted to one methodical habit as he bided away the time. He always had a supply of chewing gum.” - The Killer

Burbank leaned back in his chair. His position was one of patient relaxation. While he awaited new telephone calls, his attitude was one of complete passivity. There was nothing excitable in the make-up of this man who sat with his back toward the light. Yet Burbank was a man of amazing endurance. In place of action, he exercised untiring vigilance. It was this quality that made him a most important factor in the affairs of that amazing personage known as The Shadow - The Killer

Burbank is, at once, the barrier between the agents (and by extension, us) and The Shadow, as well as the bridge that allows the agents (and us) to find and reach The Shadow.

And I do like it that Burbank's specifically said to not be cut for action, that he's not really a fighter or a marksman or even a super tech genius, on paper he's really just a guy who sits in a chair all day fiddling with radio equipment. But he is still cool and impressive by the standards of what matters most in The Shadow's world. He's patient and resourceful and vigilant and clever and trustworthy, and he's someone that The Shadow trusts more so than anyone else.

There was no sound of the door closing; no sound, indeed, to indicate that any person had moved in that direction. Yet Burbank knew, from experience, that his master, The Shadow, had departed, after giving him the sign that his vigil was ended.

Such word usually came from The Shadow’s sanctum. Tonight, being in the vicinity of Burbank’s present station, The Shadow had preferred to give his faithful agent fifteen or twenty minutes of extra respite by visiting him in person

Such was the way of The Shadow. Though none of his trusted operatives had ever seen his undisguised face; though his ways and actions were secret and mysterious to them; they received constant signs of The Shadow’s appreciation of their reliable cooperation - Death Triangle

In Suite 808, a figure was seated in front of the writing table. It was The Shadow, in his guise as Arnaud; Burbank was off duty, asleep in the other room.

The telephone buzzed; The Shadow answered it. He spoke in a quiet, methodical tone, a perfect imitation of Burbank's voice. Harry Vincent reported - The Case of Congressman Coyd

On one hand, I don't think the "mystery" of Burbank is ever going to be ruined, or should be ruined. But on the other hand, I definitely think there's a lot of room to explore more regarding what exactly is he as a person, as an agent, what kind of roles he plays, what is his connection to The Shadow or what relationship he has with other agents or other people he's meant to be in more direct contact with. I think it's a matter of balance.

There's a lot of room to work with particularly regarding how you could adapt Burbank into adaptations set in different time periods (not necessarily modern day), because with how communication technology had advanced beyond imagination, there's a lot of ways you could adapt or recontextualize Burbank, The Shadow's social network.

[nastyatticman]

like a midnight snack

A family of killers is discovered - blackmailed, and tasked with finding and trapping the man who may or may not be haunting the Heelshire manor after all these years. At first it seems nothing is working, until their son makes an accidental discovery.

Brahms Heelshire X Sidney Jade Leong, an OC. Not sfw.

Warnings- dubious consent. child abuse (mentioned), past/implied sexual assault / exploitation , misgendering/transphobia (mentioned). Canon typical Brahms being a creep. Trans male character with female coded language to refer to his body sometimes.

Of all the places Sidney expected to spend his summer, an old British country house that may or not be hiding a murderous pervert was not one of them.

None of his family expected that, either. That a potential victim would catch them on camera, hauling someone into their basement. Much less that he’d find them, and rather than going to the authorities… he’d dangle that possibility over their heads, and make them do him a favor in exchange for not being reported.

How were any of them supposed to know some overgrown white boy would be piloting a drone all around the woods at night? Or that he’d use the footage to blackmail them rather than try to actually help the person he saw them grab. They, begrudgingly, had to respect that. He had dedication to his cause.

His cause involved a number of properties his family wanted to take over, that were supposedly haunted. He had his sights set on a rural house in the UK, one that had been mostly abandoned since the last servants hired by the family fled, claiming some madman was hiding inside the walls.

Nowadays the family that owned the property still ordered food to be delivered, even if no one answered the doors. They still visited, every once in a while, but the visits were dwindling over time.

The Leongs were to contact the family and ask to stay in the house for a while, part vacation and partially to clean the place up. They were given a handsome sum to convince them to let them stay. It’s not like they needed the money - being old money and all- but they did need people to take care of the place. Everyone they hired to clean refused to come back, claiming something was wrong with the house.

And that’s how Sidney’s family ended up booked for a mandatory two week vacation in the middle of nowhere. Trying to figure out if there really was a crazed man living inside the walls, and if so, could they lure him out?

They tried all sorts of things to get him out… it was like the whole family was performing. They were used to that during their other vacations, taking turns playing bait or offering travelers a “safe” place to stay… but two weeks? It was exhausting.

Talking extra loudly and listening to any sound they heard, just in case. Not to mention all the extra work Sidney and his sister had to put in...

Despite their best efforts… Their first contact was a mistake.

Sidney woke up with a dry mouth. He was too hot under the covers and slowly peeled them back. Checked his phone - it was 3:46.

He got up and crept to the kitchen to get himself a glass of water, careful not to wake anyone. If he made too much noise they may think he’s the shut in they’re hunting, or that he found him, and they’d all be so disappointed when they found nothing but Sidney in his robe and bunny slippers sneaking off for some water.

The bunny slippers and the robe were a compromise. Make him look more casual, a little cutesy. Part of the intel they had received implied that the man in hiding reacted better to young, pretty women and that he loved to spy on them and watch them change. Classy.

So as an extra effort Sidney and his sister were expected to… loosen up a bit. Walk around in a towel more. Wear skimpy pajamas around the house. That kind of thing. Tori didn’t really mind doing that in her own home - in fact, Sidney sometimes complained about her walking into his room in shorts so short he could see her underwear. But it was different knowing a fully grown pervert with a child’s voice could be watching them from within the walls at any moment.

It honestly pissed Sidney off the most. He could hardly stand to be around his parents sometimes, especially when they pulled this shit. After his father’s injury Sidney took over the role of masked killer with relish, loving that he had more power in their dynamic. But that didn’t mean they stopped making harsh demands of him, risking his body for their gain.

He could only hope they wouldn’t do the same to Tori. They were always much softer to her, and he was grateful and resentful about it at the same time. Still… the winter nights he spent freezing when they wanted him to lure travelers. His fingers so cold he couldn’t feel them at all, his nose burning. They’d stopped it, luckily, when an old man offered him a jacket to cover up and then exposed his … true intentions to him.

Sidney didn’t see anything, luckily, but he did see the rage on his mother’s face as she beat the man to a bloody pulp.

After that, they let him wear a jacket.

They wouldn’t make Tori suffer the same way, would they? They didn’t push her as far. But how far would they be willing to go to catch this man? Sidney shivered reflexively, not sure whether it was because of the memory of the cold, or his next intrusive thought about how far they’d make Tori go.

She was a sophomore in college, for fuck’s sake. The guy’s tombstone showed he’d be in his 30s by now. If he was still around. That was the other thing - Sidney was only half sure that the guy was even there in the first place. There were some strange things that happened since they arrived, but it was nothing too major.

Sidney sighed and went to refill his mug in the kitchen. There were some noises… the house settling, probably. You couldn’t turn at every creak in the old country home. He passed the window and stopped, pretending to look for something on the counter.

Was that a reflection of…?

He studied the window, seeing the silhouette of a figure behind him. Wild hair and a baggy sweater. Tall. Maybe six feet. His father, the tallest in his family, was 5’8”.

He waited to see if he’d do something. It looked like the figure did, too. The guesses were right, then, he was 6 feet or so…

If it really was the guy they were looking for. Then again, what, would he have left and another creepy hermit moved in and took his place? Sidney remembered hearing the loose description of where he’d been staying all that time - a fully stocked room inside the walls, with a bed and a basin to wash up in, a ton of weird shit he’d been making, and porno mags stapled to the wall. He was sure it would be in high demand on the horny serial killer real estate market. After all, Sidney was there.

He snorted a laugh, and turned away from the window. Shit, if Sidney could see him then he could see -

A hand clamped down on his mouth before he knew it. He was pulled in closer to the man’s body, warm and smelling of mothballs. That was the first thing he got, other than the sweaty hand over his mouth and his other hand, stroking his hair.

It was weirdly… tender. Like he hadn’t held someone before. Sidney didn’t dare move an inch.

He was clearly a grown adult, judging by his strong grip and his size and everything about him… Was he smelling Sidney’s hair? The fuck?

He weighed his options here, as he felt himself be pushed against the counter. Almost caged in under his body. He could probably throw him off, but he’d have to get to the other end of the house immediately. What was it he did to the other people?

One he killed in the game room, for breaking his doll… Sidney had been nothing but respectful to that doll, he should be spared that fate.

Another he knocked out, and the last one - so young and pretty - he’d tried to pull into the walls with him. Is that what he’d do to Sidney? Maybe, since he’d probably seen Sidney wandering around in shorts and low cut shirts for at least a week now…

His parents found that part very funny when it came to Sidney’s involvement. It was worth a shot, sure, since Sidney was much closer to the guy’s age than Tori was. But they remembered when he’d come home from school and tell them about the boys who would ask him out… only for him to find out the next day it was all a dare from the other kids. Why would anyone, even a freak hiding in his own home, want Sidney?

But it seemed like he did, despite all that. Well, judging by the way that something hard was digging into Sidney’s back as he pinned him to the counter. His breathing getting heavy, his grip on his mouth loosening up a little, his other hand stroking Sidney’s hair. Savoring him like a midnight snack. He leaned in and murmured something soft to Sidney in a voice that was much too high to be coming from someone so large.

He could… he could work with this.

Sidney let out a needy little moan under his hand, and ground himself against him. It made the man completely freeze up. Shit, did I go too far? Sidney wondered. He didn’t need to wonder for long though, once the man realized what that meant. Again, he leaned in and spoke softly to Sidney, but this time he could just make out what he said.

“Good boy,” he said, barely more than a whisper.

Shit. Fuck. Damn it all to hell. This meant he’d been paying attention, but it implied so many things about what he’d seen.

Firstly that he knew Sidney was trans - and respected it? Despite seeing his tits a million times.

Ally of the fucking year, Sidney thought, as the man ground up against him this time, on purpose. He let out a shuddery little sigh above Sidney, leaned in and pressed the lips of his mask against his cheek. Did that part make him gay then? Or queer?

Secondly did he - did he hear the way Sidney’s parents talked to him, about him? Of course he did. He must’ve heard them say something rude, or … Call him a girl, of course. Little girl. Stupid girl. Bad girl.

Again, ally of the fucking year. If only they’d known the best trans ally alive was hiding in an English country house and spying on people this whole time.

He giggled and it made the man freeze up again. Sidney nodded, and nuzzled into his body, letting him continue.

He couldn’t deny that this was kind of… nice. Better than the hugs he’d be forced into by his parents when they were angry at him but wanted him to shut up and stop arguing. That was a low bar, but there were so few people he could get physical affection from that he didn’t at least partially despise.

Sure, he kind of hated that he’d been dressing so uncomfortably for a week in hopes of getting this guy to come out... and try something with him. But it worked, judging from the way he was holding him, so needy.

It was really tempting, honestly. Sidney hadn’t had sex in… a really long time. With a friend of his, who was sort of interested in him and knew he wanted to have some more experience. Her partners wouldn’t mind that they hooked up, she told them about it. Still, Sidney was much more monogamous by nature and so it took him a while to get used to being normal around her again. Even if it was mind blowing trans4trans sex with one of his best friends.

He wondered how Eris was doing right now. It was probably early night in the US, and he hoped she was having dinner with her girlfriends. Her lucky, lucky girlfriends…

It wasn’t that lecherous of him to appreciate how good his friend was at getting him off, was it? Not when she’d demonstrated for him a few times. She was good at it, she had experience and good communication, finding what Sidney liked and keeping at it until he was a horny mess under her. And then he’d pay her back, much less precisely, but she still appreciated it.

The shut-in - he supposed his name was Brahms - had neither of those things but he still intrigued Sidney. Maybe he could figure out something they’d both like.

He tapped the man’s hand, and pulled it off his mouth gently. It took him a second to gather his words again.

“Can I- can you put me on the counter?”

“What?” he asked, just sounding confused.

“I want to sit on the counter,” Sidney explained. “You can still - you know.”

The man - Brahms? - nodded and stepped back, let him climb up and sit down facing towards him. He could only see from the moonlight streaming through the window, but this confirmed it.

This was their guy.

He matched the description perfectly. Unkempt hair, broad shoulders and chest, wearing a mask like the porcelain doll they’d found in the parlor the first day they were there. His eyes were blown wide, watching Sidney beckon him closer, putting a hand on his shoulder and pulling him in.

He shakily pulled Sidney closer to himself, his hips right next to the counter. But didn’t move, as if waiting for… permission? Sidney leaned in, feeling his beard brush against his cheek.

“Go ahead.”

The man nodded, and gripped Sidney’s hips, pulling him closer still, and humped against him. Just a couple times, softly, experimentally. Sidney gave him a breathy little moan in encouragement and he picked up the pace.

He felt the full hardness of his length brush against him, hard. If they weren’t both still clothed he was sure the man could feel how soaked he was. Then he hit a part a little lower down that made Sidney shake for a second, suddenly sensitive.

“Fuck,” he breathed. “I think that was my hole…”

He just nodded and tried whatever he did again, until Sidney swore he could feel his cock head through their clothes, teasing at his needy cunt. The extra attention made him flushed, almost overwhelmed, and without realizing he wrapped his legs around his hips to keep him in place.

Sidney moved his hips to help him, desperately chasing the feeling. It was almost silly… he was holding the guy in place with his arms and legs, moaning for him, and he wasn’t quite sure what his name was.

“Brahms?” he asked.

“Yes?” His voice was little more than a whisper, deep and rich. Like he’d forgotten the higher voice earlier. “Sidney?”

He wasn’t expecting an answer, much less for Brahms to know his name. Of course he would, but… it’s strange, considering how much care and attention he must have for him. Sidney swallowed and softly stroked his hair.

“Good boy.”

Brahms let out a strangled moan, leaning into his touch. His movement was frantic, and he had Sidney up at kind of an angle so it was like every push of his hips shoved his cock up into him. Sidney’s grip on him tightened without him meaning to. They both ground against each other, just chasing their pleasure.

“Pull my hair,” Sidney asked. Brahms - yes, that’s his name - just looked at him. “Please.”

He hesitated a moment, and then complied. His large hand cupping the back of his head gently, before he pulled ever so slightly.

“Harder,” Sidney begged him. He hoped that he wasn’t overwhelming the poor guy on what must be his first time. “If you - if you want. I really, really like it.”

This convinced him, he could tell from the way he grabbed more hair, and pulled him back more tightly, until Sidney’s head jerked up to the ceiling and he moaned. His response was barely audible. “Thank you.”

They continued, Sidney overwhelmed from the way he kept grabbing him - groping his thighs and pulling his hair just hard enough to hurt. Brahms picked up speed suddenly, until finally he made one last thrust and collapsed, his full weight making Sidney fall back, against the cabinets.

They were both breathing heavy, and Sidney wondered for a second why he stopped - until he felt his cock twitching against him through their clothes, and warmth spread between their thighs. Oh.

He held him closer then, let him bury his head in the crook of his neck as he came down from his high. The porcelain dug into his neck but Sidney ignored it, just holding him and stroking his hair softly.

“Good?” Brahms asked, softly. He’s not letting go either.

“Yes,” Sidney said. “Yes, you were.”

[giorno-plays-piano]

Treasure hunt

Pairing: dragon!Steve Rogers x Reader

Warnings: yandere, obsession, kidnapping, death of minor characters, minor depiction of violence.

Words: 2133.

Summary: No knight would dare to save a sacrificial bride of the dragon.

______________

When he lowered your body into a little pond, a cloud of blood dissolved into the water. You whined, looking at your wounded legs. They stopped bleeding when you were in the air riding on the flying dragon's back, but it still hurt too much for you to walk across the cave on your own. You felt the man leaving a gentle kiss on the top of your head while you sobbed.

"You will be alright, my darling." He cooed in your ear in a soft voice and let the water cover half of your body, soaking your long white nightgown smeared with blood. 

You shivered but stayed where you were. You were thinking of his eyes dark as the twilight sky when he came closer to you, tied to a stake and barely conscious after all the beating you took. You tried to run on the day of sacrifice, and the villagers didn't take it kindly. They tried to cover your wounds as much as they could, but the dragon only had to lift the hem of your nightgown to see the ugly shackles marks on your skin. He took away the cranberry beads from your neck and saw your chest, all black and blue, smeared with the red juice. Did they think these smashed berries could cover the bloody marks? 

When the dragon in a form of a man lifted his head, you felt an unbearable heat rising in his fiery mouth.

"Fear not, my lady, it's all being dealt with." 

Although you thought your bones could break if he touched you, he cleaned the cuts and bruises so carefully you barely felt anything at all. Was it his magic? Was the water in this pond charmed? You didn't want to know.

The man wiped your face tenderly and took off your earrings colored in red, scoffing at the piece of metal in his large palm. Apparently, they didn't suit his taste - you saw little, but one glance at the treasures he kept hidden in his cave was enough to see the dragon had more precious metals and gems than the King himself. You expected dozens of servants and concubines to meet their rightful owner, too, but there was not a soul around you two. Did they hide? You hoped so. Otherwise it meant the rumors were true - the dragon simply ate all those sacrificial brides given to him. Even if he cared so genuinely about your wounds, maybe it was because he didn't like to see your bruised skin.

"Ah!" You squeezed your eyes shut. The man above you was covering your cuts with an odd ointment, its smell fresh and somewhat icy.

"We are almost done." He assured you and left an airy kiss on your knee. "You are so young, my love. You will heal fast."

You timidly bowed your head at his remark. How old was the dragon? It was too bold of you to ask him that, of course, so you simply kept your mouth shut.

"I am a century older than you." The golden-haired man said to your suprise, and your eyes widened at his words. "And no, I can't look inside your mind, my lady, but I am able to read your face. Please, do not be afraid."

You nodded, too frightened to speak. You remembered villagers running away in agonizing pain, screaming and pleading and cursing; the smell of the burning flesh and wood; the mighty flame devouring everything on its way. Those people had never been kind to you from the moment they seized you a month ago, but you still did not wish to see them dying such a horrible death.

"Do you feel better?" 

It took you a few moments to respond, and you shivered.

"Yes, Your... Your Highness."

You did not know how to adress someone as mighty as him, and the dragon laughed at your words, making you feel even more humiliated.

"You do not have to call me that, my love. I am Steve, Sarah's son." The dragon smiled at you and kissed your knuckles with his soft lips. You were confused and ashamed. This moment felt too intimate. "I mean no harm to you. Whatever people have said to you before, I did not bring you here to kill."

You stared at him in disbelief. What? Did his words mean the dragon did not want to eat you? Maybe you were supposed to become one of the concubines, then. In the end, if there were many of them hiding somewhere deep in the cave, it could be true. You had never wished to serve any man like that, yet it was still better than to be eaten alive.

"Steve, Sarah's son." You mumbled quietly, looking at your drenched nightgown with a sense of deep shame - the white fabric became completely see-through, and you tried to cover yourself with your hands. "T-thank you for..."

It was hard to speak as you trembled in his strong muscular arms, and the man smiled at you, caressing your head as if you were a child. Before you could finish your thought, he lifted you up in the air, caring little about your soaked clothes that got him wet right away. You shut your eyes again, afraid to see where he was taking you and trying to concentrate on your pain instead. Surprisingly, it wasn't as bad as before - the ointment Steve used was magical, indeed.

Once you realized both of your were up in the air, you held on to him for dear life. You still couldn't understand how the dragon was able to transform only a part of him - his hands caressing you were still pretty much human. 

You didn't utter a single word before you landed on something soft and fluffy, your nightgown oddly dry on your skin. As you finally opened your eyes, you saw Steve's large figure hovering over you and whimpered, balling up on a huge bed high above the ground.

"It pains me to see you like this, sweetheart." The dragon's voice was unexpectedly tender. "But I know how terribly those filthy brutes treated you. You are afraid I will do the same..." He became quiet for a few moments, and you gulped, suddenly feeling guilty. "Please know I am here to protect you, my love, from any danger from within. No one will ever hurt you again. You're safe here."

Your eyes glimmed with tears at his kind words, and you sobbed, covering your face with a fluffy blanket you found on the bed. He wasn't going to hurt you, he said. He took care of your wounds and brought you somewhere nice, giving you a chance to rest after all the horrors you went through. You didn't know whether he was just toying with you, but for now you felt better, laying on a huge bed covered with blankets and furs. 

"I know you would like to have some time alone, but I can't leave you as of now." The dragon explained when he lowered himself on the bed. "You will heal better with me close. You can handle it, my lady, can't you?"

You wished his hot hand was not on your belly as you shivered from his touch, but you kept silent and nodded. Even if you did not want to be close to the man who could burn you to ashes within a minute, you had no right to protest. Maybe you would heal faster just as he said. 

"Sleep now, my love." Steve pressed his burning lips to your forehead. "It will get better tomorrow."

You said nothing as he pulled the blanket over you and moved closer. This intimacy with a man was foreign to you, but he did nothing other than holding you in his arms. He didn't want to hurt or use you. He only kept you safe just as he said before, you tried to assure yourself.

Thinking of his gigantic scaled wings of blue and gold colors, you quickly drifted off to sleep.

____________

The next morning you woke up to the divine smell of fresh fruits and honey, the dragon placing some peculiar dishes right on the bed around you. When you gaped at him, he let out a low chuckle and gave you a wet towel to wipe your sleepy face. He insisted that you ate right after waking up, claiming that your body needed strength - most of your wounds disappeared during the night. Apparently, it was all his magic.

"Try this, my lady." He easily sliced an odd red fruit with his razor sharp claw. "This one is special."

"Why?" You asked timidly, but took a piece and saw the white pulp with little black seeds inside it.

"It is called dragon fruit." He answered, proud. "It tastes like nothing else, believe me."

You smiled back at the man and took a little bite, feeling something sweet and sour on your tongue. He was right, you had never ever tried anything like that. Snatching more pieces of the fruit from Steve, you started eating them so fast he ended up laughing and rolling over the bed. 

Then he took you to the pond again and gave you your new clothes, a white nightgown embroidered with golden threads and a blue robe, soft as a cloud. Once you changed, Steve showed you around his cave, giving you an opportunity to look at his fabulous treasures - golden and silver coins, gems, jewellery, armour, statues, all those things you had never seen before. He said you could take anything you wanted except for a few magic tools that were unsafe to use. You felt like you were living in a fairytale. 

However, you became frightened again once the dragon told you he had neither servants nor concubines. When you asked what had happened to all those women who were sacrificied earlier, he simply said he took them to the other kingdom far, far away as he had no need for them. But over the seven seas, where women were treated better than here, no one could take them against their will, he claimed, and all of them agreed to leave to start a new life. Did a place like that truly exist?..

"Will you bring me there too?" You whispered, afraid of your own thoughts. 

You didn't like that look in his eyes. It didn't sit well with you.

"I do not think it is... wise, my love." His quiet voice alarmed you. "The women I brought over the seven seas were stronger than you... smarter than you. No one was as fragile, easily broken. Look what had happened when those peasants kidnapped you. You barely stayed alive."

"But..." Your eyes were glistening with tears again. "... You said women were not treated like posessions there... Why won't I be safe?"

"Nowhere is safe if you can't protect yourself even a little. I pray you stay mindful, my lady."

You had nothing to say, lowering your gaze to your bare feet and clutching the silk fabric of your elaborate nightgown. Although the dragon was right, it was hard to believe now he truly let all those women go. Were you that bad? That feeble he decided to leave you with him? It was unfair. You had the right to decide your own fate even if he considered you weak. 

You didn't say it, though. He could still burn or eat you alive if you protested against his decisions, you thought. When his claws scraped over your gentle skin, you bit down on your lip and nodded again. 

You were trapped.

"Until I get stronger, who am I here? What do I do?" You whispered, not meeting his gaze, and the man softly caressed the top of your head. "Am I a prisoner?"

"Of course not, my dear." He shook his head at your words and took your cold hands into his own, his skin so hot it was almost burning. "You are my precious sacrificial bride, my treasure. The only thing I demand from you is obeying me, love. Do what I tell you, and you will always be safe."

He wrapped his hands around your back and made you lean on him, pressing your head to his wide chest and kissing your temple. There was so much tenderness in his moves it almost made you cry. Why did it have to be like that?

"Can you make me stronger?" You moved your head to look at him and saw his bemused expression.

"Forgive me, my dear, but women like you are not made to overcome hardships of life." The dragon's fingers stroked your flushed cheek. "I cannot share my strength with you, I'm afraid. But I can protect you. It is enough, isn't it?"

You nodded once more, keeping your eyes shut and listening to him breathing slowly. You knew little of how possesive the dragons were once they spotted a treasure they wanted to keep for themselves.

[caffeinatedbraincell]

Oooh! 37. Cleaning the other person’s lips with a lick and a kiss with Andromaquynh please! 💖

(I’m going to nap now though, so I’ll catch up on the other stuff soon!)

Hi Shatters! 💖 Thank you for the prompt, I hope you like it!!

Read on AO3

Andy sat cross-legged next to the stream, absentmindedly drawing little hearts in the dirt with a twig. Suddenly, there was a loud crunching sound behind her.

She turned to find Quynh trampling through the dried leaves with all the grace of a drunk hippo. As she got closer, Andy could just make out something golden-yellow in her hand.

“Nope,” Quynh said, following her hungry gaze. She tucked her hand behind her back. “This one’s for me. I only brought it out here so I could eat it in front of you and not give you any.”

The corners of Quynh’s lips twitched, betraying her intent as Andy schooled her expression into the best puppy face she could manage.

“Oh, stop it. You know you’ll get some. Now wipe that smug look off your face, Andromache, I swear-”

Andy burst out laughing. If she hadn’t been so caught up in the perfection of the moment, the gentle sunlight and the golden mango and Quynh, she would have definitely remembered to erase the heart doodles.

Instead, Quynh raised her eyebrows as she settled herself next to Andy, scrutinizing the dirt in front of them. Andy felt her cheeks flush.

“I was, uh…”

“Just say you’re a sap and go, my love. There’s no way you can talk yourself out of this one. Wait- hold on a minute, is that a ‘Q+A’ in that heart? Andromache, we’ve been married for millennia!”

Andy sniffed. “But you got lost for 500 years.”

“That was so long ago, honey. I came back to you, didn’t I? Just like I promised?”

“Yeah. Tomorrow is the 521st anniversary, by the way. Of you coming back.”

“You’re counting?”

“Of course!”

Quynh wrapped an arm around Andy’s waist, pulling her closer. Then she leaned in and bumped their noses together, grinning.

“I’ll never understand how some people see you as a hardened 7000 year old warrior. You’re like a teddy bear.”

“Quynh-” Andy warned.

“Oh, please. Your threats might work on the others, but if you’ll recall, I can still kick your ass.”

“Mm-mm. No. I can kick your ass.”

Quynh smirked, the effect undermined by how she gently reached for Andy’s hand, intertwining their fingers. “Alright, let’s settle this. Weapons or freehand?”

Andy pouted. “Now you’re just trying to distract me from the mango.”

Quynh brushed a light kiss to the corner of Andy’s mouth. “Here,” she said, bringing her other hand out from behind her back. “It’s all yours.”

Andy peeled the fruit carefully, licking at the skin before tossing it next to the stream. She sighed in contentment. This, she thought, was her undisputed favorite when it came to fruit. Sweet, soft, and entirely ungrowable in most places.

But that just made it all the more delicious when they finally got some, Andy decided, diving into the fruit greedily.

“Disgusting,” Quynh commented with a fond smile. They’d all long since agreed that there was no neat way to enjoy a mango. You had to embrace the mess.

“Why’d you come outside?” Andy asked in between slurpy bites.

“Oh, the boys were fucking too loudly.”

Andy choked. “Quynh!”

“What? I’m being honest!”

Andy rolled her eyes, returning her attention to the almost-bare mango seed in her hands.

“Hey.” Quynh nudged her.

“Mmm?”

“Can I have some?”

In response, Andy angled her torso away, devouring the last of the fruit faster.

Quynh’s eyes sparkled with mirth. “Oh, no, you did not just-”

Andy flung the barren mango seed into the stream. Quynh gasped.

“That’s it. I will taste this mango if I have to lick its juice out of your mouth, its pulp off your lips…” She gripped Andy’s shoulders, pushing her to the ground and rolling on top of her. Andy grinned roguishly up at her. “You laugh now, my love, but-”

Quynh yelped as Andy tickled her neck. She seized Andy’s wrists and pinned them above her head in retaliation, curling her other hand into Andy’s hair and tugging. Andy’s breath caught in her throat. Her pupils went wide as Quynh raked her eyes over her hungrily.

Without warning, Quynh leaned down and licked into Andy’s mouth, pulling a startled moan from her beloved. She untangled her hand from Andy’s hair, rubbing it up and down her side in a soothing gesture as she swiped her tongue over Andy’s lips again and again. Andy whimpered, trying in vain to tug her hands free from Quynh’s iron grip.

“Qu- ah! Quynh…”

Quynh felt drunk with love, with the cloying mango syrup on her tongue, with the way Andy’s heart fluttered beneath her. “Philtatos,” she murmured, pulling back ever so slightly to gaze into Andy’s eyes. “What do you want, my beloved?”

Andy strained up, trying to meet Quynh’s lips. “Kiss,” she mumbled after a minute, falling back in defeat.

“More kiss? Your lips are already clean.”

“More kiss,” Andy begged, eyelids dropping closed. “Please?”

Quynh felt the breath rush from her lungs. It was moments like this where it hit with terrifying clarity that she would willingly suffer 500 more years at the bottom of the sea if it meant she could kiss her Andromache again. The realization brought tears to her eyes, mirroring the way Andy’s had gone round with want.

“Quynh?” Andy asked softly.

She shook her head, releasing Andy’s wrists in favor of lovingly cupping her cheek. She felt Andy’s arms come up around her shoulders as she leaned down, bringing their lips together in a tender kiss. The first kiss of the rest of our lives, Quynh thought giddily. If it hadn’t gotten old by now, it never would.

***

Send me prompts and a tog pairing! (x, x)

[queenxxxsupreme]

Ahhhhhhh your dad!witchers are giving me LIFE. If you're feeling up for it, what would be the reactions of the witchers when they learn their S.O. is pregnant? Sorry if this isn't the right way to make a request!!

A/N: No babe you did perfect!! This is a great way to make a request!! I’m so sorry it took so long for me to finish!! And I hope it’s what you wanted :) 

ALSO just a little reminder that requests are open! I prefer them in my ask box but you can also dm me!! I’m always open to talking to you guys! Here is the link to my masterlist for more dad!witchers or other Witcher characters. Here is the link if you’d like to add yourself to my taglist. 

Warnings: mentions of pregnancy, some angst, mostly fluff

Lambert

“Sit still, Lambert.” You told him, dabbing at the cut above his eye. He hissed and jerked away, bringing his hand up to hold your wrist away from him. 

“Could you be a little more gentle? Fucking hell. Feels like you’re trying to rub off my gods damned face.”

“I am not. You’re just being a baby.” You brought your other hand up to hold his cheek, keeping his face where you wanted it. “Now are you going to suck it up and let me help you or are you going to be an ass about it?”

He shook his head, pulling your hand from his face as he stood up. 

“I don’t have to deal with this.”

“Well this is the consequence of you starting a fight with a dozen men at the tavern, Lambert.” You threw the rag down on the table and put your hands on your hips. “I get pissed.”

“I don’t see why you’re pissed, Y/N! I did it for you! Most women find it endearing when a man fights for her honor.”

“I can fight for my own honor. I don’t need you to knock out an entire room full of men just because you can!”

“The bastard fucking grabbed your ass, Y/N!” Lambert turned to face you. “You thought I was gonna sit idly by and let you punch him once or twice?”

“His friends did nothing to me. They didn’t deserve to be beaten to bloody pulps.”

“They did if they were friends with that asshole.” He turned to walk away but you weren’t done yet. 

“Lambert, come back here and sit down. I need to finish looking at your damn face to make sure you’re okay.”

“I’ll be fine. They’ll heal up in a couple hours.”

“I don’t care if they heal up in a couple seconds. Come back here and sit down so that I know you are okay.”

He sighed heavily, turning around to face you. 

“Woman, you drive me fucking insane.”

“Good.”

“I’m a witcher! Cuts and bruises aren’t going to hurt me. I’m fine!”

You glared at him, arms crossed tightly over your chest. 

Why couldn’t he just listen to you? Why couldn’t he give you peace of mind? You just wanted to make sure he was okay, for crying out loud! You knew he would heal quickly, but your stomach still churned with the thought of him being hurt.

“Lambert. Come sit down. I won’t tell you again.”

“You’re not my fucking boss, Y/N.” He shook his head.

“But I am yours to watch over and protect, and you are mine. Come sit, now.”

“Not now.” He pulled the front door open. 

“I’m pregnant!” The words came out rushed and urgent. Your hands fell to your sides, curling into fists. 

The stubborn witcher stopped in his tracks. He didn’t turn to face you, not yet. But you could see the way he tensed up, almost hearing the breath sucked in through his parted lips. 

Tears sprung from nowhere, trailing down your cheeks. Your knees became shaky. You pulled a chair at the table out and sat down, hunched forward with your elbows on your knees. 

“I-I’m pregnant.” You repeated, but this time it was more quiet and gentle. “And I am absolutely afraid of-of having a baby, especially with you, Lambert.”

He turned around in the doorway but he couldn’t move any further. 

You shook your head, sitting back on the chair and wiping your cheeks. 

“You’re reckless. You don’t think about how your decisions could affect you in the long run. You act on impulse, on anger.” You paused for a moment to bite your bottom lip. “I love you more than you could ever believe. But I-I am afraid to have a child with you.”

When he said nothing, you looked up at him. His jaw was locked, brows drawn together just slightly as he gazed at you. 

“How do…. How do you….?” He couldn’t figure out how to say the word, to say that you were pregnant. The word got caught in his throat and left a bad aftertaste. 

“I’m late.”

“You’re never late.”

“No, you….” You stopped yourself from calling him an idiot. You shook your head and rubbed your brow. “That time of the month hasn’t happened in nearly two months.”

He was quiet for a few more moments before taking a deep breath, realizing what you were saying and what was happening. 

“Oh, fuck me.” He brought his hand up to rub his face.

“I did, love, and this is the result of that.”

He snorted at your terrible joke. 

His hands rested on his hips as he gazed at you, unsure of what to do, of what to say.

“You’re positive this is…. That you’re….”

“Yes. If I had any doubts, I wouldn’t have told you. And if-if you don’t want this, then I understand. I do. You didn’t-You didn’t sign up for this, for a baby. I won’t hold it against you. It’s completely okay.”

“Hold it against me?” He repeated, finally taking a step back into the house. “If I-If I bail on you? If I leave you for you having a-a…. a thing?” He gestured to his stomach. 

You dropped your gaze to your hands. 

“Do you really think that low of me?” Lambert’s voice was a quiet whisper, almost timid and unsure. He didn’t know if he wanted to hear your answer. 

“No, Lambert. I just-I don’t want to make you feel trapped.” You sniffled. 

The witcher was kneeling down in front of you before you knew it, taking your hands and holding them in his own. 

“I would never leave you to handle this on your own.” His voice was gentle, tender. You’d only heard this tone when he helped you through a panic attack or calmed you down after a bad nightmare. 

Lambert brought his hand up to cup your cheek, thumb brushing tears away. 

“I-I love you, Y/N.” He murmured, leaning in to place a velvet kiss on your lips. His hand came up to hold the back of your head, keeping your forehead against his lips. “I love you, bug.”

“I love you.” You whispered, eyes closing tightly as tears trailed down your cheeks. 

Eskel

Eskel listened to the sound of the fire crackling the hearth, to the sound of Lil Bleater snoring all the way out in the barn. 

The night was quiet, but also so lively. There were many noises, many things to keep the witcher from sleeping. It wasn’t just the noise either. There were so many thoughts going through his mind. Any time he tried to close his eyes, the worst ones would make themselves known.

So instead of wasting his time and trying to sleep, he laid on the bed with his head on your stomach. You had been brushing your fingers through his dark hair in an attempt to calm him, but you ended up falling asleep. 

Eskel didn’t mind though. It was relaxing just to watch you rest, to know you trusted him enough to close your eyes and fall asleep. 

He closed his eyes, listening more intently to what was going on around your home. 

There was a herd of deer nearby. They were slowly making their way closer and closer to your garden. 

A fox had already snuck into your garden through a hole in the fencing caused by Lil Bleater earlier in the day. 

Eskel sighed, knowing very well he’d have to fix the fence in the morning. 

But then there was another sound, one closer than the creatures outside. It was a slow thump, quiet and gentle. It was almost…. a heartbeat. 

Eskel lifted his head, brows drawing together as he looked around the room. He wasn’t sure if he expected to see something or not. 

He sat up, brushing a few stray pieces of hair back out of his eyes, and looked down at you.

That was when he realized the sound was coming from you. It was a heartbeat…. in your stomach. 

His jaw locked, muscles tensing as he realized what it was that was making the noise. 

There was no way you were pregnant. You couldn’t be. You both were always so careful. And besides, it was extremely difficult for witchers to have children, but it wasn’t impossible. 

Eskel ran a hand over his face, shaking his head. No, no. He had to be dreaming. Maybe it was the lack of sleep finally getting to him. 

Still, he couldn’t help but look down at your stomach.

You shifted in the bed, spooking Eskel. He jolted a little but it didn’t seem to bother you. You rolled over on to your side, lips parting. 

What if you didn’t know you were pregnant? What if you were keeping it from him on purpose? What if it wasn’t his?

Eskel shook his head, realizing how dumb the thought was. You loved him. He could see it in the way you looked at him, the way you smiled when he was near and when you leaned into his touch when he was close enough. 

But what if you were keeping it from him because you didn’t want him to know? What if you didn’t want to have a child with him? With a scarred and mutilated witcher?

***

You woke up feeling someone brush their hand over your hair. You rubbed your eyes and peered up at Eskel. He was on his side propped up on one elbow facing you, occupying himself by brushing your messy hair down with his hand. 

“Good morning.” You smiled up at him, yawning and closing your eyes as you scooted closer to nuzzle your face into his chest. 

“Morning, doll.” He dipped his head down to kiss your head. 

Eskel didn’t want to frighten you, to scare you, but he really wanted to know if you knew. He needed to know. But he wasn’t willing to wake you up if you were going to go back to sleep. Your rest was more important than his sanity. 

So as you drifted off to sleep again, he focused on drawing shapes into your arm. 

A few more hours passed and you woke up once more. 

“How did you sleep?” He asked. 

You rolled over on to your back, swiping your hair away from your face. 

“Good.” You hummed, reaching up to cup his jaw. “How about you?”

“I, uh, couldn’t.” He cleared his throat, turning his head away from you to look across the room at nothing in particular.

“Not even a little?” You sat up, frowning.

He shook his head. 

“Too much on my mind.”

You found it weird that Eskel didn’t look at you. It was like he was avoiding your gaze, like he couldn’t look you in the eye. 

“What’s….. on your mind, Eskel?” You asked, tilting your head to the side a little. 

He shook his head, running a hand over his face. 

“Nothing.”

“I don’t believe you.” You reached out to stop him from getting up, your hand finding his arm. “Look at me, Eskel.”

With a soft sigh, his yellow eyes flickered up to you.

“Tell me, please.” You drew your eyebrows together and pouted just a little, hoping he’d comply. 

He held your gaze for a few heartbeats before letting out a soft breath. He leaned back, shoulders slumping and eyes falling to his hands. 

How was he supposed to tell you that you were carrying a baby? His baby?

“You’re pregnant.” 

The audible gasp that left your lips was enough to confirm his thoughts. 

“How-How do you….?” You couldn’t form a complete sentence. Your hand came up to hold your stomach. 

“I can hear its heartbeat.” He answered quietly. “Why didn’t you tell me?” 

You looked down at your stomach and then back to your witcher. You closed the space between you and him and cupped his jaw with both hands. You tilted his face up, swiping the unruly pieces of dark hair from his forehead. 

“Don’t get that tone, Eskel.” You murmured.

“What tone?”

“The tone that tells me you’ve been stuck in your head too much, that you’re having too many bad thoughts.”

You pressed your lips together, studying his golden eyes.

“I didn’t tell you when I found out because I wanted to wait. I wanted to do something special. I was going to make you dinner and we were going to go for a walk to town and I was….” You trailed off, the excitement in your veins fizzling out when you saw that he still looked sad. “I promise I was going to tell you, Eskel. I’m-I’m sorry I didn’t sooner.”

“It’s not that, Y/N.” He shook his head, gently pulling your hands from his face. “I just…. What if I’m not good enough?”

Tears blurred your vision of the handsome witcher before you. You quickly wiped your cheeks before leaning in to kiss his lips. Your hand came up to the back of his neck, fingers gently tangling in his dark hair. 

“You are going to make an amazing father, Eskel.” Your words were whispered against his lips, your breath warm. 

His hand found your jaw, calloused pad of his thumb brushing across your cheek. 

He finally smiled, then chuckled softly, opening his eyes to meet your gaze. 

“I’m going to be a dad.”

Geralt 

You hummed softly, folding Geralt’s clean clothes as he gathered things from the other room. You were sitting on the edge of the bed, listening to your witcher move about in the main room, gathering what things he might need for the Path. 

You put one of his shirts down, your fingers brushing over the gray material. Your eyes were focused on the buttons but your mind was elsewhere. 

You had put off telling him that you were expecting, thinking you’d be able to find the time to tell him the exciting news. However, duty called and the witcher was needed. Word had traveled that a town a few hours away was under attack by a pair of wyverns. Geralt had mentioned needing to leave soon for his duties, but this meant he’d leave sooner. 

“Dove?”

You lifted your head, finding him standing in the doorway. He was leaning against the frame, holding a few vials in his hand.

“Yes, love?”

“You’ve been awfully quiet all day.”

“Just busy.” You answered, offering him a gentle smile. 

He nodded, looking down to the vials.

“I know I’m leaving sooner than expected…. and I am sorry.”

“Don’t be, Geralt.” You shook your head. “It’s your duty. Don’t apologize for it.”

Geralt sighed, moving into the room. He put the vials down on your vanity and came to the bed. He pushed the clothes that you had neatly folded, messing them up.

“Geralt!” You teasingly smacked his arm. He smiled a little, sitting down in front of you.

“We had plans.” He said, taking your hand in his. “We were going to take a little trip to the coast. You were finally going to teach me how you make such delicious bread.”

“I can teach you another time.” You squeezed his fingers. “And there will be time later for the coast.”

He nodded, bringing your hand up to kiss your knuckles. 

“I had a surprise for you, you know.” Your heart began to beat faster and you felt a little tingly. The smile on your lips grew. You brought your hand up to his cheek, cupping his jaw and brushing your thumb over his skin.

“Do I get to know what it is?” He raised his brows just slightly. 

“We are going to be having a little one.” You giggled. 

His eyes widened and he looked down to your stomach. 

“You're…. You're pregnant?”

“Yes.” You nodded. “We’re going to be parents, Geralt.” 

A smile broke out across his lips, his hand coming up to rest on your stomach. 

“Are-Are you sure?” He asked quietly, husky voice tender and sweet. 

“I’m positive.” You nodded. 

Geralt brought his eyes back down to your stomach before pulling you in for a kiss. His hand came up to your cheek, the pad of his thumb trailing over the apple of your cheek. His hand that was on your stomach slid around to your side before he carefully drew you into his lap. 

“I can’t believe it. Is it a boy or girl?”

“Love, we won’t find that out until the baby is born.” You giggled softly.

“How long until that?”

“Oh, we have a while.”

Taglist: @pressedinthepages @MishaFaye  @whitewolfandthefox @ayamenimthiriel @c-a-v-a-l-r-y @wolfyland07  @belalugosisdead @persephonehemingway @romancebibliophilia @keira-hulmaster @dinonuggs69 @greatestauthorofmygeneration @shadow-hunters-lover @dancingwith-thesunflowers @tedi-fach-las @thecomfortofoldstorries @raspberrydreamclouds @natkowaa @disasteren @weathervanes-my-oneandlonely @onlyhenrys @crazybutconfidentaf @wackylurker @criminaly-supernatural  @Magpie343 @permanently-exhausted-witcher @hina-chans-stuff @the-space-between-heartbeats @havenoffandoms @carriebee1 @ger-bearofrivia @naominami @thefirelordm @writingawaymylife @reaganjenelle @badassspaceprincess @theawkwardpedestrian @scarlettwitcher @runawayolives @badassspaceprincess @just-a-sad-donut @summersong69 @an--actual--human--disaster @she-wolfoftheinquisition

[honeyandhondewberries]

Can we get Raihan and Leon's reactions to their crush kissing them on the forehead and murmuring, soft and sweet, for them to sleep well before slipping out of the room quietly. Their crush thinks they were asleep.

😭😭😭🤗🤗🤗 alright ill do it you better get ready for some friggin COMFORT anon this is going to be so soft you dont even KNOW

(dont mind the awkward shift in tenses between Leon and Raihan’s stories either 👀 sometimes that just Happens)

~~

Chicken Noodle Soup & Movie Night (LeonxReader, RaihanxReader)

Leon:

“I’m not sick,” Leon mumbles, and his glassy eyes follow you as you move about the room. You don’t humor him with a response. “You don’t have to do all this.”

You only hum as you continue to bustle about. More tissues, more blankets, and you should probably check his temperature again soon, too. He’s taken his medicine (though you hid it in a snack like you have to do with your Pokemon), and you finally got him into bed after some coaxing. He’s propped up on three pillows, he lets out a hearty cough, full and phlegmy, and you return to his side once his fit is over. You gently sit on the covers, set your hand on his forehead, and purse your lips.

“Yep, still burning up,” you say, and Leon groans.

“I’m fine,” he croaks. “You’re making too big a deal about this.”

“Leon,” you say sternly as you go to find the thermometer. “You’re shaking with chills, burning up, and hacking up a lung every few minutes. You’d probably still be on the pitch if I wasn’t making a big deal about this.”

“Exactly,” Leon says in exasperation as he throws his arms up. The motion sets off another series of deep coughs. “I could be finishing my training! It’s just the sniffles, nothing more.”

“Alright,” you say, and you sit beside him again. “If you don’t have a fever, then you’re right and I’ll leave you alone. If you do have a fever, then you need to promise to cooperate. Deal?”

Leon’s glassy eyes squint, though the effect of his frustrated glare isn’t much when he sniffles through it. You raise an eyebrow.

“Fine,” he says, but he doesn’t look at you.

You offer him the thermometer, he childishly snatches it from your hand, then sticks it in his mouth. You adjust the quilt around his shoulders, fluff his pillows for him, and mindlessly brush his bangs from his face. His eyes widen at the motion, then his gaze flicks to the side again.

Hm, his cheeks are looking quite pink… he definitely has a fever.

The thermometer beeps, you pluck it from his mouth, and showcase that your prediction came true. You set the thermometer on his nightstand without a smug word spoken, but Leon can certainly read it on your face.

“Now that you’ll cooperate, do you want some orange juice?” you ask.

“No.”

“Some candy?”

“No.”

“How about some chicken noodle soup?”

Leon doesn’t immediately grumble anything, but instead fiddles with the stitching on the quilt.

“...with the spiral noodles?” Leon asks quietly.

“Mmhmm.”

Leon purses his lips (not for long since he can’t breathe through his nose), and he finally mumbles an:

“Okay.”

“I’ll go heat some up for you,” you say, and you give his hand a pat. He curls one of his fingers around yours, just to quickly retract his hand again. His cheeks are looking even pinker than before, now. Is he getting warm?

“Thank you,” he mumbles.

“Try to get some rest,” you hum, and after adjusting his blankets again, you head out of his room and into the kitchen.

You had a can of chicken noodle soup (with the spiral noodles) in your pantry, and you stuffed that and some cough drops in your bag before you came over. You rustle around Leon’s kitchen for a pot to start cooking his meal. As you stir and taste-test the soup every few minutes, you wonder how Leon’s feeling. He isn’t hacking so much, so as the soup simmers, you step to his room to peek.

He’s still propped up on his pillows, though his scowl is gone and his eyes are closed. He’s wrinkling his nose in his sleep, as if to push his bangs from his face without using his hands. You let a smile slip, and a plume of affection blooms in your chest. You step over as quietly as you can, brush his bangs from his face, and before you can stop yourself, you gently press your lips to his forehead.

“Sleep well, love,” you say softly. “I know you want to work, but you need to rest and heal too. I’ll be here when you wake up.”

You’re not sure why you’re telling this to his sleeping figure - perhaps telling it to him awake would be much too embarrassing. Leon’s eyebrow twitches, so you stand as quickly and quietly as you can, suddenly embarrassed by your tender moment, and you step out of the room.

If you had stayed for a second longer, you would have seen how Leon’s cheeks tinged pink yet again, how he smiled to himself, curled against his pillows, and so sweetly repeated one word:

“Love.”

Raihan

It was movie night, Raihan’s favorite night of the week, because that’s the night he got to spend with you. More importantly, that’s the night he got to sit on his couch snuggled in blankets and sweaters and drinking tea and bantering back and forth with you as you barely watched whatever was on the screen. It was always such a good excuse to sit close, and it was so natural just to casually wrap an arm around the back of his couch, and he decided that tonight was the night he’d finally make it around your shoulders.

Movie night started out as a joke when you mentioned that you had never seen Love in the Time of Pokerus (a cult classic), and Raihan was absolutely appalled and he demanded that you come over that same night to watch it. You agreed, and even brought snacks. The next week, you were shocked that Raihan had never seen Pulp Fanfiction (another cult classic), and you demanded movie night round two. The week after, Raihan suggested you both should probably make movie night a trilogy in order to honor the true cinematic genius that was trilogies, and you agreed by saying it would be an insult to art if you didn’t.

Raihan had lost count of what number you were at, but you were definitely beyond a trilogy, beyond a quadrilogy, and beyond whatever you called what was after five movies. Movie night had even evolved into dinner and movie night when you came a few weeks ago to his apartment and he could hardly focus with how much your stomach was grumbling. You tried to tell him you were fine, and when he noticed how genuinely embarrassed you were, he lied and said he hadn’t eaten dinner yet anyway, so it really wasn’t a hassle to make you something.

It was, however, an excellent opportunity to show off his cooking expertise. Although he was hoping for affirmation to begin with, your enthusiastic praise actually made him blush. Then, your comment on his blush made him blush harder. Not his best moment, but at least it made you laugh.

Raihan practically skipped to his apartment, noticing how beautiful the autumn trees were and how crisp the air felt in his lungs. Leaves crunched beneath his feet like a jaunty melody to add to the giddiness welling in him. It was your turn to pick the movie, so that meant it was his turn to cook, and he already had your favorite meal planned. It was going to be perfect. You had told him to wear his comfiest sweater, and you would wear yours, because whatever you were going to watch tonight deemed it necessary. He was fine with that, because big sweaters on you made you even cuter. If you were wearing his big sweater, well, that’d be just icing on the cake. One step at a time, though.

As he unlocked his apartment Raihan decided that, yep, tonight was the night. He’d finally break the touch barrier. You’ve hugged before (Raihan made sure of that), but never for longer than a normal friend-hug would last. You’d be full of delicious food, tired from your long shift at work, and you’d be snuggled and comfy and cozy in all the blankets he’d set up. He’d have the window open a crack so you’d want the fresh air and the blankets at the same time, but because you’d be a little chilly, you’d need to sit closer.

It was the perfect recipe for cuddling.

After cooking and prepping and swallowing his excitement time and time again, you finally texted to say you were on your way. Raihan used to be embarrassed by how hard he was crushing (Leon would even say whipped), but now he couldn’t care less. He wasn’t sure how you felt, though, so he tried not to lay the flirting on too thick like he would otherwise, just in case that scared you off. He’d rather have you as a friend than not at all.

There was a knock on the door, and Raihan nearly jumped out of his skin. Okay, be cool, be cool. He checked his appearance in the reflective microwave door, tousled his hair just enough, and stuffed his hands into his pockets nice and casually. He sucked in a breath, then opened the door.

And, he let it out, unable to hide his smile when he saw you standing there in your oversized sweater and cheeks pink from the cold.

“Alright,” you said. “I’ve brought options.”

“Options?” Raihan repeated as he leaned against his doorjam, perfectly cool. “That’s not how movie night works.”

“I’ve already taken it to the movie night board of advisors,” you said as you invited yourself into his apartment. “And they approved.”

You bantered back and forth, just as you did every week, sidestepping around each other as you prepared to eat. You were stepping closer to him than you usually did, though, but maybe that was just in Raihan’s head? It did solidify his plan of finally making a move tonight, though. He even took the chance of brushing your waist as he stepped behind you, but he didn’t get much feeling beyond your thick sweater.

Once his initial excitement to see you ebbed, Raihan covered his yawn with his sleeve. He actually had a pretty busy day himself; early workout, then extra training with the new apprentices at his gym, and a training match with Kabu. And actually, the day before that was pretty busy too… he bit back another yawn at the thought.

“You okay?” you asked.

“Yeah, just tired,” Raihan said as he stretched.

“You better not fall asleep,” you teased, and Raihan rolled his eyes as he followed you to his couch.

You both decided on one of the corny holiday movies you brought, turned it on, Raihan adjusted the blankets, you took your regular places on his couch, and his heart was pounding in his ears. He couldn’t initiate anything too early though, he had to set the mood.

Were candles too corny? Too obvious? You liked candles though, right?

“You like candles?” Raihan asked. “A fan gave me one earlier, and it smells like vanilla. Since I didn’t make a dessert, I figured that would be fitting.”

You laughed, and Raihan smiled at the sound.

“Yeah, candles are good,” you said. “Are you getting sentimental on me, Raihan?”

“No,” Raihan huffed, though his smile was prominent on his face. “Maybe.”

He stood, lit the candle, set in on the coffee table, and while he was up, he got your tea and flicked off the lights. Everything was going according to plan, so he took the initiative of sitting a few inches closer the next time he sat down.

The movie started, and the opening scene was immediately corny. Raihan groaned, but when he looked at your reaction, you had your lower lip jutting out, you were leaning towards the screen, and absolutely eating it up.

“Are you getting sentimental?” Raihan asked incredulously. “These movies are so cliche!”

“That’s what makes them nice!” you huffed. You hugged a blanket to your chest in embarrassment. “Yeah some are dumb, but they’re all like, wholesome and warm.”

“Are you cold?” Raihan asked. He knew that’s not what you meant, but he’d snatch any opportunity he had tonight. “Here, let me help.”

He scooched closer, enough that your thighs were touching, and he flung his blanket over both of your laps. He set his arm around the back of his couch, then in a moment of pure, calculated risk, curled it around your shoulders instead.

You blinked a few times, and Raihan tried not to make his tension obvious, though he did let out a deep breath when you eased into his side. Neither of you spoke a word about it with your mouths, but as the movie played, your bodies spoke loudly enough when you curled your arm around his waist, and nestled into his chest.

Tonight was going perfectly.

It was all a little cliche: the movie, the blankets, the snuggling in autumn evening, but Raihan didn’t mind. This was the most comfortable he had been in a while, and his eyes slowly drooped as the night went on. He jolted into focus when you poked his stomach though, because apparently the credits were already rolling.

“That was a good one,” Raihan mumbled, and your laugh shook your shoulders, so it shook his.

“You didn’t even watch it,” you tease when you poke him again.

“Yes I did. The woman came from that big city to the small town, then she met a guy who was humble and she didn’t think she’d like the little town but she did, he taught her the true meaning of family or friendship or something, then they kiss and live happily ever after on their quaint farm.”

Whatever you mumbled next was incoherent, and Raihan chuckled again. He gently fiddled with the fabric of your sweater sleeve and his eyes started to droop again. How could he get you to stay for just a little bit longer?

He didn’t need to think long when you bashfully mumbled next.

“There’s a sequel…”

“Amazing,” Raihan yawned, and he inwardly pouted when you got up to start the next movie. He held his arm out when you came back, an obvious invitation that any other position would be absurd. You quickly nuzzled against him again as the opening scene started.

Raihan let out a yawn and let his eyes close. He actually was dozing at first, but when you started talking to him about the movie, he jolted into focus again. After your brief conversation, he felt how you melted against him, he pretended to let out another snore, then he curled closer to you. And suddenly, the credits were rolling again, and you were both laying on his couch, tangled in thick sweaters and blankets and each other.

“Raihan,” you whispered. “Raihan wake up, the movie’s over.”

He wondered what you’d do, so he kept his eyes closed. He did curl his arms around you tighter - sleeping people did that, right? He didn’t want the night to end.

“Raihan I’ve gotta go home,” you whispered. “I can text you later, okay?”

He didn’t respond, though he was certainly frowning in his head when you untangled yourself from him. He listened to you bustling about, probably collecting your things, but he wondered why you suddenly paused. He heard the soft pat of footsteps, he almost opened his eyes, then his nerves tingled when you pressed your lips to his forehead.

“Um, tonight was fun,” you muttered. “Sleep well.”

He heard you scuffle away, heard his door open, then close again.

Raihan bolted up.

Did you just… did you just kiss him?

His legs and arms and the rest of his body were haphazardly tangled in blankets, so Raihan stumbled to the floor when he tried to stand.

“Hey!” Raihan called. “Hold on!”

He could do that for you too, except aim a few inches lower and really make it the perfect ending to the perfect night. Luckily you were only halfway down the hall.

Yeah, movie night was easily Raihan’s favorite night of the week.