#sometimes it takes the night to fall

[aniron48]

24. just really needed a hug sort of hug for 00leiter would be amazing if inspiration strikes! 🥰

Alex, mi vida! Thank you for always inspiring and indulging my deep-seated need for 00leiter, and thank you for this prompt. 🥰 Your wish is my command, my friend! It's here, continuing below the cut, as well as on ao3:

sometimes it takes the night to fall

“My mother wanted me to go to law school,” Felix says. His tone is measured, and this, this, is something he’s going to include in his annual performance review at the Agency, which his supervisor signs every year without reading a word: Agent Leiter is calm and measured, even when he is soaking wet, covered in pink feathers, and holding a flash drive with the plans for a chemical weapon designed to take out half of Europe, circumstances which Agent Leiter would have avoided entirely had his MI6 counterpart not been a fucking asshole.

“‘You’ll make good money, son,’ she would tell me,” Felix says. He pulls his Glock out of his holster, pointing it toward the floor to let the water drain from the barrel. “‘You’ll wear nice suits.’ But no, I knew better. I didn’t want to take the motherfucking bar exam.”

“You wear nice suits now, Felix,” Bond drawls, looking him up and down, and Felix is either going to punch or kiss that look off his face, but he hasn’t decided which, yet.

“Normally, I would agree with you, James,” Felix says. Measuredly, again, because he’s a goddamn station chief for the CIA. “But right now, my nice suit looks like it survived simultaneous explosions at a poultry farm and a Pepto-Bismol factory.”

Felix had had plans for their mission in Prague, plans which involved a timeline, and coordinates on a map, and the judicious use of SIGINT. James Bond had had instincts, and even if those instincts had been accurate, as far as identifying the Belarusian middleman they were looking for went, his methods left a lot to be desired, seeing as they primarily involved a chase through a crowded craft fair in the center of town, followed by what could charitably be called hijacking a bachelorette cruise in order to chase said middleman down the Vltava River. And now here they were, on a deserted dock in a decidedly seedy part of town, mercifully free of bachelorettes, but with an unconscious henchman tied to an oil barrel behind them, waiting for the ride that would take them not to their warm, comfortable hotel room near Karluv Most, but to the U.S. Embassy, where Felix could hand off the hard drive and then spend the rest of the night filling out the ream of paperwork required after the sort of nuclear-grade shitshow James Bond tended to leave behind him on a good night.

“I think I know what you need, Felix,” Bond says, and the way his mouth turns up at the corner can’t mean anything good.

“What I need,” Felix says, “is not to be picking penis-shaped confetti out of my beard.”

“No,” Bond says, stepping closer, and if the British exfil team doesn’t get there soon, Felix is going to paddle to the Embassy on a goddamn inflatable canoe, “No, that’s not it.” 

He brings a hand to the back of Felix’s head, drawing him in close. “Why don’t you start by putting your arm around my waist.”

They’re Felix’s own words from years ago, directed back at him with Bond’s characteristically lethal precision. Not long after the events in Bolivia, Felix had flown into London for the memorial service of another MI6 colleague who had died in the line of duty. Later, after everyone else had left, he’d joined Bond where he stood in the back of the church, stiff with grief and the bone-deep chill of the British winter.

“She drowned, you know,” Bond had said, his tone conversational. “004, I mean. She deserved better. It’s a terrible way to go.”

Bond and Felix had been lovers for mere weeks at that point, if that designation even applied to the handful of hours they’d stolen in South American hotel rooms and, on one memorable occasion, the lost luggage room of a train station in the middle of nowhere. But Felix wasn’t an idiot. He’d been in Venice when Vesper died. Even then, he’d known Bond well enough to know what wounds would be fatal to him, if left untreated.

“It is,” Felix had said. He hadn’t dared to say much of anything else. “I’m sorry for your loss, James.”

“It’s England’s loss,” Bond had said. He’d already begun to go distant around the edges, all of the lines of his body tensed for a fight. Felix had wanted nothing more than to demand Bond come back with him to his hotel room, to fuck him fast and merciless until all the tension bled from his body, until he was easy and louche again, unspooled against the Egyptian cotton sheets. But his first instinct with Bond wasn’t always the right one, back then, and he’d looked at Bond in silence for a long moment before making his decision.

“Come here,” he’d said. “I’m going to give you a hug.”

Bond had looked at Felix like he’d just suggested they piss in the baptismal font. “A what?”

“A hug, Bond. Jesus Christ. Come here.” He’d pulled Bond in by the lapel of his expensive wool coat. “You start by putting your arm around my waist, like that. Then you put your other arm around my shoulders. Like this, asshole. And then—” Felix had squeezed with all his might. “Then you hold on tight.”

They are here, now, tonight—and by “here” Felix means Prague, means the dock, means covered in dirty river water and the detritus of phallus-shaped souvenirs, but he also means so much more than that—in no small part because all those years ago, his own instincts had been right when he’d taken James Bond in his arms in an empty church, and so as angry as he is, he’s powerless to deny James this, now. He gives in to the inevitable and steps into the embrace, dropping his head against James’s neck.

“I hate you,” he says, but there’s no longer any heat in it. “This was the worst night of my career.”

“The ladies liked it,” Bond says.

“The ‘ladies’ thought we were strippers. One of them threw her drink on me when I refused to take my shirt off.”

“The night is still young,” Bond points out. Felix refuses to turn his head to look at him, on principle, but he can feel Bond’s smile against his cheek.

“Fuck you and your entire country,” Felix says. “I’m glad we threw your fucking tea in the harbor.” But his head is still on Bond’s shoulder, and his arms are around his waist, and he’ll stay that way until the sound of a distant motor signals that their ride is near, and the night moves on around them.

[rileys-battlecats]

*guy that hasn't slept properly in several days voice* damn why am i so tired

[blithesharem]

OKAY HEAR ME OUT

“Go away.”

Satan doesn’t even glance over his shoulder to see who opened his bedroom door. It doesn’t matter. He’s in the middle of an important chapter and he doesn’t intend to be interrupted. Even so, he continues to listen as he finishes his paragraph: footsteps shuffling, hesitant, the soft click of the door and movement toward his bed. He huffed with annoyance.

“I said-“ he begins, stopping when he feels the body push to press against his back, soft hands slipping around his chest. He squirms instinctively, a proper scowl breaking now as he prepares to shove his lustful brother off his bed.

“Asmo! I told you, I’m not-“

“Satan.”

Satan cuts of his hiss, as the sound of a hitching breath in Asmo’s voice stops him. He stills, listening, before tilting his head to try and catch a glimpse of Asmodeus’s face. He can’t – its pressed too tightly against his shoulder blades, and Satan can only see the edge of Asmo’s shoulders as they give a shudder.

He’s quiet for a moment, thinking. Asmo sniffles, rubbing his nose against Satan’s back.

‘You’re going to get snot all over my shirt,’ he thinks. Aloud he says, “What happened?”

“…nothing…I just…” Asmo swallows, trying to find a way to express what he’s feeling. Nothing happened and everything happened: how does he explain that? Sometimes, the despair just gets too much. Sometimes he feels crushed by the work he does to try and keep everyone together. To keep everyone a family. He hates the thought of anyone seeing his most important acting role slip, certainly he can’t allow anyone to see his face so red and puffy.

“Can I just…stay? Please?” he whispers, too weary to even add a drop of simpering to his request.

Satan stares over his book at his bedroom wall, feeling how tightly Asmo’s hands cling to the front of his shirt. ‘Why me?’ he wonders silently. The newest of the brothers, the most unpredictable, certainly the one least likely to allow such an invasion into his space.

Though, Satan supposed, he was certainly the most familiar with being swept up in one’s emotions.

“Okay,” he finally says simply, shifting to lay over Asmo’s arm more comfortably. He hears Asmo give an exhale and another sniffle, feels him melt with relief. Satan can’t quite relax himself, unused to being so close to another body. It’s alien, the feeling of Asmo’s heart racing against his back.

Alien. But not so bad.

Resting his cheek back on his pillow, Satan returns his gaze back to his book, and starts his paragraph over.

[theguardianace]

ok wait i have a poll bc im curious. choose the closest one for you

[ohimsummer]

thinking about suguru coming home after a long day to “”take comfort”” in his cute little hybrid :33

[fauvester]

i think my coworkers and friends think its a little excessive that Im so militant about my sleep schedule but its hard to describe the extent to which the terrors fucking get me if my circadian rhythm is even a little fucked up

[cheekblush]

slept maybe 4 or 5 hours this whole ordeal is really burdening me i feel so disheartened 😔

[anas-tasiaa]

"it's okay Saeran-ah. You're going to be fine. As long as I'm here, no one can hurt you."

Picture

[fingertipsmp3]

Ughhhhhhh I hate writing and I hate not writing and I hate myself

[championsofthegate]

//levels of pda muses are comfortable with

Gale: awkward about pda in front of Tara and his mother, otherwise all for pda. very much a hand holder in public

Shadowheart: once she gets used to it she's okay with a little bit of pda. But she's very awkward at first.

Vax'ildan: despite his teasing he tends to be a more private person where this sort of thing is concerned. Again a little bit of pda is alright, and if it's going to piss off someone terrible he's all for it lol

Ayla: absolutely down with pda at all times. being raised among wood elves pda is basically just her normal.

Cietan: gets awkward about pda. he'd prefer to keep things more private tbh, although he does like holding hands. but still kind of weird about it in public

Lucia: very awkward about pda, not much for it at all, she's not used to letting people see her emotions at all, so that's too vulnerable for her

Rosemary: all for pda, the more obnoxious and annoying the better. will obnoxiously make out with her partner to the chagrin of everyone else

Klio: easy flustered by pda. She likes it, she's just not used to it yet lmao

Elysia: she likes some pda but she's not overly affectionate in public, small things are usually fine.

Alea: she prefers to keep things more private, but if it's going to annoy someone she's down with it lmao

Alras: pda is his bread and butter, he will make out with his partner in public if he thinks he can get away with it

[the-kipsabian]

seriously tho reblogging stuff helps so much more than just getting it into tags

seriously. the reblog button is free. support artists who make fun stuff for you to look at for free. show some love for gifmakers and fanartists and fic writers and editors and vid makers and crafters and everyone else

seriously. the button is right there. click it. tagging is optional tho encouraged

seriously. just reblog things that people make

[skimmeh]

Me overwhelmed cos I wanna do characters justice and not miss characterise them, but still have funny or emotional character interactions, being scared that imma portray them wrong.

But then also realising that I should have fun with my writing and getting all worked up over how imma write these characters kinda sucks all the creativity and fun outta it.

I do hope I can do these characters justice, and I do believe that I am and am still working on it, seeing how people react with fanwork and taking notes from all places.

I just can easily slip into a spiral of doubt cos, even though thankfully this fandom doesn't have much drama ... It does have a few when it comes to character duos popularity and character portrayals

[anotherpapercut]

I'm taking the bus to and from work every day this week for the first time in 3 yrs bc my partner is out of town and dear god I did not realize how much more tired it makes me

[elegyofthemoon]

gotta love my schools not-actually-optional optional classes :^)

[britneyshakespeare]

im just gonna tmi-medication share in the tags real quick

[apricote]

hi guys, how are you