#tHread: Lunch and Lies

[nightmarist]

Oh another small thing. Player keeps making really low rolls, a couple ppl make a joke “better get the low rolls out now” and “put it in dice jail” and he gets ornery about it, “I don’t believe in that kind of junk” like ok. It’s not a literal oracular belief system, it’s just a silly superstition. Don’t get mad at us just bc you haven’t hit the monster. Maybe the dice is legitimately unbalanced. Switching dice isn’t superstitious it’s sometimes an actual fault.

Hm. Maybe there’s more involved w my problems about our campaign.

Ok I promise that’s all I have to complain about.

[psychostxr]

𝐣𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐚𝐧 𝐥𝐢 | emotions

PAIRING. jordan li x gn! reader

WORD COUNT. 0.7k

WARNINGS. cursing, mentions of death, marie bashing (i'm sorry)

NOTES. i have also hopped on the jordan li train, and my god, i've never had a character chokehold me so tightly

Since Marie Moreau joined Godolkin University, everything has gone downhill. After the death of your friend Luke and the murder of your favorite professor, your life has gone through a ball of shit. You didn't want to blame Marie. The poor girl got caught up in Luke's drama — drama you didn't even know existed — she's just as traumatized as you are.

That's what you would've said before news spread around school that Marie and Andre were the ones that stopped Luke, not Jordan. Your partner who actually fought Luke while Marie ran at the first sign of danger. The thought of Marie frustrates you to no end, but you have other things to worry about, such as Jordan locking themself in their room since classes ended.

For as long as you've known Jordan, they've always been competitive. They climbed up the school's student ranks at Godolkin, beating almost anyone and everyone who tried to get in their way. They were one stop away from being first-ranked. But because of Marie and Andre's 'courageous act' of stopping Luke, they've been pushed up the ladder, while Jordan has to settle for fifth. It hurts to see Jordan so angry at the world and themself.

You knock gently on Jordan's door, hearing the muffled sounds of what you presume to be Marie's interview with Hailey Miller. The room goes quiet, and you wait a few moments for Jordan to open the door. But they don't.

"I know you're in there, Jordan." You turn the doorknob, rattling the door in your unsuccessful attempt to get in. You sigh and lean your head against the door. "Please open up, baby. I'm worried about you."

There's a moment of silence until the door cracks open. You take a step back, seeing Jordan's somber expression.

"Hey," you say, smiling softly. "Can I come in?"

Jordan hesitantly returns your smile. "Sure."

They open the door wider, allowing you to enter their dimly lit room. Their room is nothing from the usual, with clothes strewn over their couch and textbooks scattered on their desk. You pull your bag off your back, setting it down on Jordan's bed to retrieve your laptop and the takeout you bought from Vought A Burger.

"I was thinking we could maybe watch Property Brothers and have dinner together?" you suggest. "Or any other show if you want?"

Jordan shakes their head, their lips quirking upwards. "That sounds really nice, actually."

You pass Jordan the takeout, unsure if they've eaten anything since having lunch with you earlier today. You quickly set up the laptop on the coffee table before sitting on Jordan's bed.

Leaning against the headboard, you open your arms wide. "Come here."

Jordan doesn't hesitate, settling themselves in your waiting embrace. Their arms wrap around your torso, pulling them closer until their head finds a comfortable spot nestled against your stomach.

Feeling the weight of Jordan's emotions, you hold your partner close, your arms enveloping Jordan's shoulders. You softly kiss the crown of Jordan's head, your lips brushing against their ink-black hair.

"I'm sorry you're having a shitty day," you whisper, threading your fingers through their silky strands. "It's not fair."

"It's not your fault," Jordan says, sighing. "Shit happens."

"This school is shit," you explain, your anger spiking. "You've worked your fucking ass off to become second-ranked at Godolkin, but because of Marie and our asshole of a principal, you've lost your spot."

Jordan lifts their head to look at you. "It sounds like you're more upset than me."

"I'm sorry, it's just..." You shake your head before staring lovingly at Jordan. "I love you so much, Jordan. So much that I feel everything you feel. When you feel angry, I feel angry. When you're sad, I'm sad. So when you go through these obstacles in life, you aren't alone. I will always be there for you, baby."

Jordan crumbles at your words, and a small smile plays on their lips. They lift themself and lean towards you. Their lips press against yours gently before pulling away, leaving you no time to savour the kiss.

"I'm lucky to have you," they admit.

As you grin, you pull Jordan closer into another kiss. But this time, you can feel the intense emotions radiating off them, and you soak in the passion and love from Jordan's kiss. The rest of the night is spent in each other's arms, binge-watching Property Brothers and devouring greasy takeout.

© psychostxr — all rights reserved. please do not repost, copy, translate, or claim any of my works as your own.

[sectumsempraaa]

Being coworkers w/ the Slytherin boys (headcanons)

feat. Draco, Mattheo, Theo, Blaise, Lorenzo

this one’s for the working folks bc you KNOW these guys would make work so much more fun!! :)

Draco:

- extremely punctual

- judges you for how you write emails

- picks you up in his car before your shift every day

- has a kettle plugged in AT his desk for maximum tea drinking

- will often leave you a cup on your desk too without you asking for it

- writes 95% of paperwork by hand

- kisses ass to your boss but vents to you later about how much he hates them

- overdresses even on casual fridays

- takes his lunch break with you every day and has your meals delivered (doesnt even ask what you want, he’s just good at this)

- gets turned on when you sit on his desk and look down at him

Mattheo:

- consistently 5-10 minutes late but everyone’s just kinda used to it

- takes mass transportation bc he keeps failing his drivers test

- stops to get you both coffee before work (thats why he’s late!!)

- will respond to emails you’re too scared to answer

- similarly will pick up the phone when you don’t want to

- office pranks galore with this guy

- calls you from his desk (it’s next to yours) to ask you to meet him somewhere so y’all can makeout

- also calls you when he sees someone he KNOWS you hate trying to talk to you at your desk to get you out of it

- post-shift treat several times a week

- most likely to pleasure you from under your desk 🤭

Theo:

- gets distracted easily and falls behind on work

- is so quiet no one really even knows he’s there

- bribes the office manager into making you his secret santa

- has a private email thread between the two of you that goes on and on all day with complete nonsense and memes

- visits your cubicle and sits there for like an hour at a time

- holds your hand under the table during meetings

- “ugh can we go home now” “theo we haven’t even clocked in yet”

- hacks the system to change the schedule around so you always have the same shifts

- cooks your lunches at home and brings them to work for you

- 100% takes naps under his desk when you’re out sick and he’s alone/bored

Blaise:

- gets along with everyone

- often leads meetings and presentations bc everyone trusts him

- winks at you from across the office several times a day

- has everything in his desk from stain remover to first aid kit to microwaveable ramen

- checks each paycheck (and yours) to make sure y’all get paid RIGHT

- hugs you from behind your chair like 1000 times a day (ft. neck kisses)

- flies paper cranes into your cubicle with cheesey pick up lines

- knows how to get your fav snacks from the vending machine without paying

- will randomly do some of your tasks bc he’s so ahead on his

- LOVES a business trip and gets you two ALL the travel upgrades

Lorenzo:

- does not give a fuck about getting anything done

- but somehow is pretty much always caught up/in good standing

- does the bare minimum but makes up for it by being extremely charming

- faxes you (yes, faxes) memes when he is extra bored

- steals people’s things off their desk if he doesn’t like them

- never abides by the dress code

- lies to your boss to get you out of meetings and leave work early

- convinces you to call out with him so you can spend the day together

- has a keycard that opens every door in the building, don’t ask how he got it

- switches nametags/IDs with you and thinks its the funniest thing in the world

- headphones in 24/7

ALL of them love to say “if you ever leave i have to quit too. i can’t work here without you” and they MEAN it!!

[jaysgirlx]

Can you do a Jason Todd x reader where the reader doesn’t think she has a chance with Jason because “he’s a 10” and the reader has low self esteem

❝ 𝐇𝐄’𝐒 𝐀 𝟏𝟎 ❞

❥ pairing: jason todd x reader

❥ summary: jason has always call you names like pretty, gorgeous and beautiful and you could never fathom he ever meant them.

❥ warnings: insecurities, anxiety, crying & comfort.

❥ wc: 2.1k

You sat on the roof of Wayne Manor as the rain poured down quickly. The roof was quite slippery at this point so you didn't mind staying up there a little while longer. It was just water right? You looked down from the roof, noticing Jason Todd also in the rain looking up at you with that dumb cheesy grin that never failed to make you smile.

Is he…looking at me?

He waved and for a brief movement, he seems as if he was thinking before you watched him attempt to try and climb the building while it rained. His looks definitely made up for his lack of brain cells. After many, many failed attempts Jason had actually managed to make it up there and sit down next to you. He could tell you were holding in a laugh but only smiled at you.

"Hey beautiful"

Your heart always fluttered at his compliments especially since you knew that you wouldn't ever hear them from anyone else.

"Hey Jason"

"Why are you up here in the rain? You could get hurt y'know"

You watched him relax and lay down a bit as the water washed through his dark black locs. You were too focused on his hair to even remember his question. Without asking you threaded your hand through his curls, at first it had startled him but it only took you seconds before you relaxed him by massaging his head gently. You'd never noticed how curly his hair was until now, probably because you'd never seen his hair yet. It wasn't fair that you had been deprived of such a sight for this long.

It wasn't long til it had started to settle into your mind that he liked to call you pretty, beautiful, cute and etc. You never corrected him because why would you, someone as hot as him gave you daily compliments that you didn't even deserve and it was all on his own accord. But that made you wonder, why would he do this. This Jason we're talking about. Jason that bitches about patroling with Dick. Jason that teases Tim about his boyfriend. Jason that somehow managed to trick Daimen into watching Gossip Girl. Why would he call you pretty?

"Jay?"

"Hmmm…yes pretty?"

Another flutter? Jeez, calm down.

"Ummm, why do compliment me so much?"

"Cause you probably don't hear it enough"

To you his words translated as, "No one probably calls you pretty" and it wasn't wrong. You never had anyone actually tell you they thought you were beautiful or stunning. While your mind wandered you began to chew on your bottom lip, thinking about all of your insecurities. Your weight, lack of confidence, feminism, looks and there was so much more, and day and night they ate at you, made you feel so inferior, so weak, almost as if you meant nothing.

Jason sits up causing you to quickly retrieve your hand from his locks. The rain had slowed and it was probably safe to get down. You could tell because it didn't take Jason much to get to the ground. He looked up at you, his cheeks tinted a pink hue from what you assumed was the rain.

"You coming?"

"Not yet, I'll see you at dinner, Jason"

Jason's mouth opened and closed multiple times, as if there were words he wanted to say but just couldn't form. After a while, he nodded and walked into, Leave you alone outside once again with your pathetic thoughts.

I'd never have a chance with a guy like him…

—

"Get off my case Grayson"

"I'm just trying to understand why you've been avoiding him lately"

"Can't we just enjoy our weekly lunches in silence?"

"I just want to help you y/n I swear"

You looked at Dick Grayson for a moment before taking a small bite of your sandwich. If you told him he'd get off your back and it's not like he'd tell Jason right? Once your voice found the words, you began "To me Jason is like a 10 and I'm…" your voice cracked slightly and you stopped talking instantly. You knew that if you had continued, you'd spill out all your dumb insecurities all those things that made you so pathetic.

"You're what y/n?"

"I'm like a 2/10 on a good day"

Is my self-esteem really this low?

The air between the two of you was deathly silent. You watched Dick's fists clench but quickly relaxed as his gaze met yours.

"Who told you that y/n? I want specific names. Did Jason say that to you? Tell me because if he did I will kick his ass if necessary-"

"Grayson, no one said anything. No one had to because I already know it and Jason probably already thinks it, he compliment me because he knows no one else will"

For a while you just looked at the table, you were sure that by now you were crying because of your blurred vision. You couldn't face Dick like this, you were a ticking time bomb waiting to explode and you didn't want him to hear you. So you left. You ran out of that cafe and got yourself out of there, right after grabbing your phone of course. Dick didn't need to hear all the things you hated about yourself and all the things that made you doubt everything aspect of your being.

Why am I like this?

Once you were out of there, you decided to go back to your apartment. Though you lived at Wayne Manor, you had your apartment in case you needed some private time or just somewhere to lay low. You decided it would be best to walk, so you could clear your mind a bit.

You wiped away your cold tears and tried to keep on a happy face or avoid drawing any unnecessary attention to yourself especially because of the scene you had probably caused at that cafe. This whole thing felt so dumb in your head, why did you have to avoid Jason. It was not like he was hurting you, if anything his compliments were one of the highlights of your days but maybe that was a good reason to avoid him. There was no point getting attached to someone who was definitely of your league.

You pushed those negative thoughts out of your head and decided before heading to your apartment, you'd do some shopping and maybe even buy yourself some food. Eagerly, you went to the nearest clothing store in the neighborhood and decided to splurge a bit on a couple new clothes then decided to treat yourself to some seafood as takeout. Little things like these were the only things sometimes that could make you feel loved.

When you had finally arrived at your place you were relieved. No one was there plus none of your neighbors were around so you could rest and relax in-

"hey there y/n"

You jumped at the dangerously familiar voice. Jason? Why was he here? In your apartment? You took a couple steps back, getting ready to make a run for it. You couldn't talk to him, not yet, and especially not after today's events. You looked up at him studying his body, he was dressed in his gear except his helmet was nowhere to be found and he had on a different shirt.

"Please don't run away, y/n," Jason said taking a step towards you. The two of you locked eyes for what seemed forever before Jason started to close the distance between the two of you and you let him. So many things raced through your head, you thought about pushing him away, running away again, or maybe just hearing him out. The thought of him being this close to you was a dream come true under the right circumstances but this wasn't the time to be thinking like this especially when you knew he didn't see you the way you saw him.

"Dick told me a bit about what happened earlier at the cafe, he said it would be best if I came to check on you," he said looking down at you. By now your back was pressed against the door and you'd dropped all your bags. You needed to get him out of here.

"Jason I'm fine, you can go"

You never would've thought Jason cared this much for you. So much that he broke into your apartment just to see you. But you were thinking of this all wrong, Jason was a nice guy who probably just wanted to clear things up that's all. There was nothing more to this and you had to convince him just as you convinced yourself that the two of you would never happen.

"Did you know I hate the rain?" he said quietly picking up your dropped bags. He grabbed the clothes and gently put the food in your hands. There was a voice in your head warning you to not drag this out any longer but you didn't want to listen this time. "But when I saw you on the roof the other day, suddenly I could tolerate it"

"So many bad things happened on rainy days but seeing you… that was best thing"

Jason grinned at you as he grabbed your bags filled with new items and clothes and placed them on your kitchen counter. He then motioned for you to come to sit with him on your couch once he was done. By then any sense of self-respect had gone out of the window now. Without much hesitation, you followed him which earned you a soft chuckle from him that sparked something in your chest.

"Y/n I think I gave you the wrong answer the other day"

He can't say anything worse than last time if I avoid it.

"For what?" A beat passed, and you looked up at Jason and he was… nervous? he was sweating and could barely make eye contact with you. He clearly had trouble finding his words and that was partially your fault because you knew exactly what question he was talking about and you could even admit it yourself. It was a stupid question that you had asked in the heat of the moment and you wished you could both forget about it and move on but that's not how things work. Though you regretted asking, you still listened to what he had to say.

"When you asked about why I compliment you so much. What I meant to say is that when I find a girl undeniably beautiful all I can ever do is remind her of it every fucking day"

There had never been a time that your heart had raced this fast until now. Jason took your hand and held it, softly as if you were going to break. The small space that you put between you on the couch was now gone as Jsson pulled you closer to him.t

"You are not a 2/10 sweetheart, you are so much more than that and I will do whatever it takes to make you see that," he said flashing you one of those cheeky grins you loved so much. If your face hadn't been red before, it was sure to be red now. It was at this moment that you knew he meant it. That Jason did not pity you and in fact thought that you were one of the most attractive girls he had ever seen.

Jason had wanted you to know for a while, he thought you did at first but after hearing from dick what you thought of yourself, he found himself willing to do anything for you to understand how you felt about you. How Jason Todd saw you and now you had no doubt now in the way Jason saw you.

"Jason you don't know how much that means for you to say that and how much I needed to hear that," you said as if you were out of breath even though you had only said a couple words. because this was literally breathtaking. "I really really like you Jay"

Jason looked at you before grabbing you into what was a mesh of a hug and a tight squeeze and saying, "Please don't say anything else just lemme hold you" he said quietly as he held your body close to his. squeezing his big arms around your waist and pulling you even closer together as if you'd run away if he dared to let go.

"Because I really like you too pretty girl"

Always remember that you can be loved guys<3

[sameschmidtdiffname]

And now, for some shit ain't nobody asked for... *drumroll please...*

Fanboy Futturman Headcanons That Hardly Make Sense Unless You're Deranged

(because it's fun)

Tags: just rawdog it bruh, idk what this is. I got fucken murmed.

Notes: Special thanks to @luverstream for going insane with me. This list is based off of our oddly specific thread. Love you pookers <3

                        °☆>》¤●¤《<☆°

• 100% started writing fanfiction for 'Biotic Wars' because there was only two works in the whole fandom and they were both illiterate/ooc

• It started as a challenge because he likes writing as a hobby so he made a random account on Tumblr and wrote a one-shot from Tigers POV just for shits and giggles

• He didn't expect literally anyone to read it, maybe a couple notes

• Then around his lunch break the next day his phone won't. Stop. Dinging.

• Long story short, he ends up with an account with like. 1.1k followers

• Once he realizes he has a serious reader base, he takes his blog seriously

• He spends a weird amount of time perfectly curating his blogs aesthetic with mods and whatever extentions he can find

• Personally commissions other fans for his fanfic borders, proper gifs, etc. He has one fanfic actually illustrated for Kinktober and it stays at the top of the 'Biotic War' tags for months

• Speaking of Kinktober, literally will not make plans for October/late September because he knows he's gonna aim to post everyday

• Will stay up for days writing when he gets hyperfixated

• Hates posting short fics. If the number doesn't end with a .k he doesn't post it until it does

• Also has a bunch of Easter eggs from his favorite movies and such in his works as well

• Knows an insane amount of copywrite laws because he's had to deal with people illegally selling his works/uploading them on other platforms

• When he eventually gets a partner he initially lies and says he wanted to become a lawyer when he was a kid, thus why he knows so much

• That works for about 12 minutes before he finally breaks down and tells them the truth, then offers to show them his work because he's told literally no one in his personal life about it

• His partner eventually becomes his editor and co-author on certain works (mainly smut)

• Half the time when he's actively working on smut he's gotta stop midway to "test the accuracy" w/ said partner

• Writes OUTRAGEOUS smut that makes him unable to look in the mirror while he's writing it

• Deadass hides under his blankets in total darkness with tape over his computers camera because of the shame

• Has a collection of proofreaders/consultants because his first smut included cervix penetration and he got dragged by basically everyone on Tumblr for it

• Had a work get popular enough one time one of his friends sent it to him because they figured he'd get a kick out of it

• Which made him panic and stop writing for like a month to lay low

• Has a completely different Spotify account for writing because his mom uses his "normal" account even though he has a family plan (side note: they make little playlists for each other :))

• Has like 50 different playlists dedicated to his fics that's available for his readers to listen to

• The artists all range from Deftones to dodie depending on the work

• His top artist is Ayesha Erotica with 2000+ minutes spent on 'Yummy'

• (Also has an impossible amount of hours logged on said Spotify account)

• Has a whole panic attack when he leaves his phone in the 60s because he had a whole new chapter ready to publish in his 20 part hurt/no comfort/slowburn fic that was over 10.k words in his notes app

• Wolf finds his Ao3 account one time and becomes... concerningly obsessed with Futturmans work without realizing Futturman is the author

• It gets to the point Wolf will legit go on 30+ minute rants about the stories while Futturman is just hyperventilating in the corner because he doesn't know how long he can keep up the facade

• It gets worse when Wolf makes an account and starts actually commenting on the works

• However he ends up getting impressive tips from the rants and ends up incorporating his suggestions into his works

• Wolf never stops bragging about this

• His most popular work/series follows a female oc that originally started as a one-shot request for a oc x Wolf fic (which Wolf hates because he says it's OoC. Futturman does not agree nor care.) But ended up getting popular enough there's well over 20 parts

• At some point he, Wolf and Tiger get into a massive argument because he finds a bound copy of all of his works amongst their supplies and no one will confess who's it is and keep blaming each other

• (It's Tigers)

• When he gets to his final timeline he manages to get his all of his drafts back through Susan (who had a lot of questions, and was given no answers) and just publishes his work as an original series since Biotic Wars no longer exists

• "Orginial series" gets insanely popular and now he has like five burner accounts so he can read fanfiction of his own fanfiction

• Writes fanfiction for his own series purposely to fuck with the fanbase

• Usually will make it ooc but well written, but once in awhile comes up with a "headcanon" that will come true in his next book so he can watch the readers implode

• And last but not least

• He casts his other self in the final timeline as the male lead in the eventual movie adaptation. Because of course he would

(Bonus: in the OG timeline when Futturman ends up disappearing, his biggest series ends up never being finished, nor his blog updated. Leading to a weirdly thorough four hour video docuseries made by Wendigoon about the rise and disappearance of the mysterious author and how the 'Biotic Wars' fandom eventually finished the fic themselves and created their own spinoffs, leading the work to get more popular than 'Biotic Wars' ever was and like five different people falsely claiming they wrote it, only to be disproven within an insanely short amount of time. Yeah, kinda a full on My Immortal.)

                           >¤》○《¤<

Don't ask me what this was, I think I got possessed. Anyways, bon achoo sweet.

Taglist:

@cassiecasluciluce @gh0u1ishly @joshhutchersons-slut @schmidtsbimbo @sugarevans @wompwompwomp57 . Thank you for your support pookies!!! <3

               •▪︎Masterlist▪︎•

[abiiors]

hot chocolate ☕ // matty healy x reader

promptober '23 - day 19

a/n: for all my girlies with the big sad, the cold months approach :/ cw: discussions of mental health, mentions of depression wc: 1.1k

matty has a pit of worry in his stomach. he’s had it for about two days now, for as long as the house has been unusually quiet. he’s alone in their dimly lit kitchen, barely any sunlight streaming in. whatever manages to sneak in through the parting of the clouds, gets diluted by the sheets of rain falling from the sky. 

it’s dull and grey. exactly the kind of weather she hates. 

matty gives the brewing pot of coffee another look and decides on abandoning it. 

he knows what he will see when he walks into the bedroom—she will be in bed, in the same three day old pyjamas, messy and unbrushed hair, “taking a nap”. not that he cares about how she looks. it’s just the niggling pit that doesn’t let him sit still. 

“darling?” he calls from the door, watching for any signs of movement under the duvet. “you awake yet?”

she should be, he thinks to himself. it’s nearly noon. he wants to make them some lunch but she doesn’t move, doesn’t reply to his question. matty gnaws on his bottom lip and walks in. 

“i’m making something for lunch…” he says again, sitting by her side of the bed and resting a hand on her back. matty knows she’s not asleep. her breaths are nowhere near deep and even. 

“i know you’re awake,” he says softly, moving his hand to her forehead, checking for any signs of an illness just in case. but deep down he knows the illness is not physical. 

when matty threads his fingers through her hair, it’s not the usual soft and smooth strands he’s met with. his fingers get caught up in the greasy knots, accidently pulling on some hair. she winces.  

“go away, matty, ‘m not hungry,” she mumbles into the pillow, voice feeble and barely audible. “‘m sleepy.”

he tuts. it’s a lie—if he’s right, and he suspects he is, she hasn’t properly slept in days, tossing and turning at night. and yet she has left the bed only a handful of times in the last few days. 

he’s tried giving her space, to let her sort things out on her own because that’s usually what she prefers. but he draws the line at skipping meals. 

“sleep after lunch,” he counters, and goes to draw the duvet off her. 

it’s not even a moment later that matty fliches, appalled when she slaps away his hand. 

“i said i’m not hungry!” she snaps, turning away from him, cocooning herself further, shut off from him, from the world. 

he stills and for a moment the only sound in the room is that of the rain hammering against the window. it’s haphazard, nowhere near a soothing beat. this rain sounds more like an anxious heartbeat—loud, odd and out of sync. 

then he hears the sniffle and his heart breaks. 

“baby…” he approaches again, trying to at least slide the duvet off her face. “hey, look at me please.” 

he doesn’t care that she snapped at him or slapped his hand away. right now, he cares that something is deeply wrong, and he’s ready to beg if that means she’d tell him. 

“g-go away, matty,” she tries again, tries so hard not to let her voice waver or crack and yet he hears it. 

matty decides enough is enough, and pulls the duvet off her entirely. 

her pyjama top is wrinkled and bunched up around her waist, and if he’s being honest, she smells a little bit but he can take care of that later. showers and perfumes and oils can wait. everything else in the world can wait. 

“i won't,” he declares firmly. “now you can either keep fighting me or you can tell me what’s wrong. either way, i’m staying right here.”

she looks at him through dull eyes that widen slightly with every word, jaw clenched to keep her chin from wobbling even as her eyes turn pink first, then watery until the tears fall one by one. matty doesn’t shush her, he just quietly pulls her into his chest, letting her cry it out. 

“i’m so cold…” she says after a few minutes. her voice is already hoarse, a whispery shadow of what it’s like on the good days. today it’s barely more than a squeak. “so cold. all the time. i just…i’m just so tired, i can’t. i don’t know what to do. and whatever i do, i can’t g-get, can’t get warm.”

she breaks into another round of tears by the time she’s done—loud, gut-wrenching sobs that break his heart but he lets her be. his only job is to be there and hold her. he just needs to be the sun.

“i know what will help,” matty mumbles into her hair, pressing a small kiss to her head. “give me two minutes?”

and he does return two minutes later as promised. matty practically makes a mad dash to and from the kitchen, balancing the mugs in his hands and his socks sliding on the wooden floors around the corner. but the liquid in them stays unscathed. 

“there we go,” he announces as soon as he’s back in the bedroom. a tiny pang goes through his chest when he sees her sitting up in bed, arms hugging her middle. she looks small, smaller than he’s ever seen her. but there’s a miniscule spark of curiosity in her eyes. 

he’ll take that spark. he’ll nurture and rekindle it. 

“chef matty’s hot chocolate,” he presents it with a flourish smiling at her raised eyebrow. 

“i know you said you weren’t hungry and you were cold. so i thought this would be a good compromise?”

for a moment she doesn’t say anything, only takes the mug from him and cradles it close, lets the steam waft over her face. hot chocolate won’t do anything for a cold that goes bone-deep. but it’s a start. he can do the rest of the work. 

“take a sip?” he nudges, sitting back in the same spot as before. he brings his own mug up to his mouth, nudging her to mimic him. together they drink their first sip. 

instant sweetness floods his mouth, comforting warmth creeping down his throat and settling into his stomach. he can only hope it does the same for her. 

and he will be there for the rest of it. for all the cold days that come after this. 

lemme know what you think <33

taglist: @scooby-doodoo, @partoftheairforce, @justgoatsbreakinghearts0855@beachesgetpeaches, @you-muppet, @mcabister, @alexmarie29, @at-her-very-foreign, @hfkait, @squishysoupy@sierraeslaprincesa@harrie-fic-center @alien-girl-violet@thereisaplaceintheheart @kennedy-brooke @lolidontknowanymore @theoriginalwhatsername@celestcies@sugarkane1001 @ari-turner @thewaywewereinsaigon @daphnesutton @beliefandsayingsomething @ros3chu @nothingrevealedeverythingdenied @zzzhealy @mattymybeloved @fck-off @indiaamars

add yourself to the taglist

[octuscle]

Last day I found out my boyfriend had cheated on me multiples times, so now I want to use Chronivac for revenge to transform him into something hot for me and humiliating for him.

I don't know your taste now… But if you give me free choice, I'll just run one of my favorite presets. Transformation duration two days. Start during the morning meeting of your cheating boyfriend.

Your friend stands at the flipchart and explains the status of the current sprint of the software development project he is leading. Confident as always. A seasoned man in his early 40s, but suddenly he keeps losing the thread. He is unfocused. After the meeting, he runs into his office, takes a pack of cigarettes from his jacket and smokes a cigarette outside the building. And another. And plays with his cell phone. He surfs through porn sites he's never heard of before. Only when a colleague calls him and asks where he is, does he get back to work.

During the lunch break, his colleagues all go out for sushi. He says he's not in the mood for that shit. Drinks a beer at the food truck in the supermarket parking lot and eats a kebab with fries. Your friend spends the rest of the afternoon surfing the Internet in his office. He doesn't even go outside the building to smoke, he does it in the toilet.

On the way home, your friend looks at his reflection in a shop window. Fuck, he urgently needs a new haircut. Half an hour later he comes out of a 5-pound hair salon. And happily strokes his short hair. When you get home, your boyfriend is sitting half naked in front of the TV and jerking off. He asks if you can give him a blowjob. He would also immediately return the favor. There is no dinner. But you fuck like rabbits.

The next morning your friend gets up at 05:00. A round of running before work. He saves showering afterwards. He's been working for the security service for almost 10 years now, whether he's showered or not in his polyester uniform doesn't matter anyway after a few hours in the summer. That he wakes you up after the run with a blowjob is really sweet. But to be honest, the smell of cigarettes during the final French kiss with his cum-glutted tongue bothers you a bit.

You have made extra early closing time today. Your friend makes you so horny. The crisp young body this morning, his greedy tongue… In fact, his change has also rubbed off on you… You also had your hair cut short today. And you have also started to smoke. Nevertheless, the sight of your boyfriend almost knocks you over when he comes home at 4:00 pm. After the shift, he was working out. He stinks of smoke and sweat. He sees you lying on the sofa. And when he drops his pants, his hard-on jumps out at you like a jack-in-the-box.

Fuck, it's 10:00 o'clock when you wake up the next morning. Totally overslept! But the transformation is complete. Next to you lies an 18-year-old chav with a sneaker fetish and a sex drive that can hardly be satisfied. It is Friday. Take the day off. And let me know if you want me to adjust you a bit to your friend. In any case, have fun this weekend!

[trickricksblog08]

Holy 🐄💫 This THREAD!!

CNN's @abbydphillip: "There's no evidence Joe Biden was involved in Hunter's business deals."

@mattgaetz: "Are you actually trying to say Joe Biden wasn't involved in Hunter's business deals?"

16 times Vice President Joe Biden met with Hunter's business partners below...👇

🚨Vice President Joe Biden meeting Hunter Biden's foreign business partners.

November 2010: Joe Biden had a sit-down meeting with Eric Schwerin - the president of Hunter's private equity firm - in the West Wing.

November 2011: Joe Biden met with Chris Heinz — a co-founder of Hunter’s private equity firm — in the West Wing.

March 2012: Joe Biden met with Andres Pastrana Arango — the former president of Colombia who Hunter was doing business with — at his personal residence.

December 2013: Hunter flew with Joe Biden aboard Air Force Two to China, where he introduced him to Jonathan Li, a Chinese businessman.

February 2014: Joe Biden had lunch with Hunter and two of Hunter’s Mexican business partners and was pictured giving them a tour of the White House.

June 2014: Joe Biden met Manuel Estrella — Hunter’s Latin American business associate. After the meeting, Estrella emailed Hunter: “Hunter, I just met your father! So exciting!” Hunter replied: “I'm glad it all finally came together.”

August 2014: Pictures show Joe Biden golfing with his son, Hunter, and Devon Archer while they were both serving on the Burisma board.

April 2015: Joe Biden attended a dinner in Washington, D.C., with Hunter’s business partners from Russia, Ukraine, and Kazakhstan.

[lou-struck]

Rights and Lefts

Denki Kaminari x reader

~ You and Denki love hanging out, but recently he has been avoiding you and you have no idea why,

WC: 1.5 k

Genre: Fluff with a bit of miscommunication.

A/n: I've been trying to finish this for awhile and was finally able to do it today.

"Is your boyfriend joining you today?" The waitress asks, setting a roll of silverware and a menu out in front of your seat. 

You take the familiar laminated menu and shake your head, "He's just a friend, But not today,"

She shakes her head. "That's a shame; I'll give you a few minutes to decide what you would like." As she turns her attention to one of her other tables, you stare at the empty spot across from you, you had messaged him earlier to see if he was going to meet you today, but he has yet to respond. 

What is it that she calls a shame? Is it that the Stun Gun Hero Denki Kaminari isn't seated across from you in his usual spot, or is it a shame that he is just a friend?

Denki isn't one to remember to change his phone's settings, so you curiously check the text thread between the two of you. The recent text thread shows that only you have actually sent messages. Underneath each one lies one little word that you didn't notice before

SEEN…

 Her words echo in your head as you try to remember the last time the two of you had actually followed through on your plans to meet for lunch. It must've been two weeks ago.

You have just gotten back from a trip with some of your friends and brought him back a cheesy souvenir from a gift shop. 

He grinned ear to ear as he slipped on the pun-adorned t-shirt over his leather jacket. He looked kind of goofy, but the genuine smile on his face made your stomach flip in a way it hadn't before.

But the smile on his face fell suddenly, and he left the restaurant mumbling something about forgetting to turn off his freezer.

Come to think of it; you haven't heard from him since. The lack of his electrifying presence in your life makes you realize two crucial things. 

One; You have feelings for Denki Kaminari 

And Two, He has been avoiding you and you aren't sure why.

~

It's been a few hours since your little revelation at the cafe, but your stomach hasn't settled at all. All you can focus on is the question of why he is avoiding you.

Your brain hurts thinking back to all your little lunch dates, trying to figure out what exactly it is you said or did to the Hero to make him not want to spend any time with you. The curiosity tugs at your tender heart stings, and you can't stand not knowing anymore. You have to call him.

Pulling up his contact on your phone, you look down at his contact picture; his smiling image does little to put you at ease as you listen to the dull dial tone.

After a few rings, you hear the line click. "Yellow? He says over the phone. The light tone in his voice shows that he is trying not to giggle at the pun he just made. The sound of rushing wind passes by the speaker, so he must be outside.

You clear your throat to speak. "Denks?" the sound coming out is much softer than you thought it would be. His breath hitches over the phone at the nickname. 

"Oh, y/n," he says quickly. "I didn't think that was you calling. Uhh, what up?"

He didn't think you were calling him, so that's why he picked up?

You want to hang up the phone right then and there, but the curiosity and heartache that has been tormenting you makes you stay on the line. "I-i was just thinking I haven't seen you in a while," you say absentmindedly, twisting the ring around your finger. 

There is an uncomfortable pause on his end, and you can imagine he is biting the inside of his cheek, trying to come up with some sort of excuse for his actions. "Y-yeah, I guess I've just been super busy with Patrol to come and eat."

"That's not good," you say. The excuse he has given you makes a bit of sense, but you still can't shake that feeling in your gut. "Next time you think you're going to work through lunch, just give me a call, and I can bring you something."

"You'd do that?" he asks. "For me?"

"Why wouldn't I? We're friends, aren't we?" you reply, not liking how the word leaves your lips so easily.

He lets out a good-natured sigh. "Yeah, we are. Hey, I actually just got off patrol, and I'm starving. Wanna meet somewhere?"

You definitely weren't expecting this. "I haven't had dinner yet. Just tell me where to go, and I'll meet you there."

"Alrighty then," he snorts. "I'll text you the address," he says, hanging up the phone quickly without a goodbye. I wonder if he is feeling just as nervous about this as you are.

~

The pub he sent in the chat is only a few blocks away from your apartment, but each step feels like you are on a treadmill forcing you in the other direction. You wonder if you should confront him about his avoidant behavior, but if things are getting back to the way they are, should you just leave it?

Once inside, you notice the trendy light fixtures and the patterned vinyl flooring. This place really seems like the kind of place only Denki would be able to find. You are able to make out his distinct black and yellow hair from a booth in the corner, approaching it slowly.

"Hey, Denks," you smile, sliding into the seat across from the Pro Hero, who looks as nervous as you feel.

"Hey, y/n," he says, sliding a menu over to you. "This place looks good. Have you been here before?"

"Never," you shake your head. "Which is weird since it's so close to my apartment."

"I heard they have great Hamburgers," he says, eyeing a tray of food passing your table, trying not to drool over his favorite food.

Crap… It's too quiet. It's like neither of you knows what to say next.

Try as you might, you can't seem to think of anything to say back to him. Everything seems fine, but Denki's natural charming extraversion makes it seem like everything is fine. You search your brain for some kind of witty retort but come up short. Twisting your rings again, you notice his gaze coming to land on the little accessory before turning out the window.

"That's the bus," he says, suddenly pointing out the window at the large greyhound picking up a few passengers. On its side is a plastered poster for a new Action Comedy movie that is supposed to come out on Saturday.

"You've seen the trailer for it, right?" he asks excitedly. His energy seems to overpower the feelings of awkwardness in your gut, and you can't help but let out a little giggle.

"Yeah, of course I have. I really want to go and watch it before all the spoilers come out," you say earnestly.

He looks at you as if he has just had a revelation. "We should go together on Saturday."

You nervously clench your fists and take a deep breath; this is your moment. "Great," you beam, "Then it's a date."

"Yeah, it's totally a date," he says happily. But then he pauses. The spark of excitement in his eyes is slowly dulled with one of conflicted confusion. 

"Denks? What's wrong?" you ask nervously.

Have you misread things?

Does he not actually like you in that way?

"Wait… but you're married," he says suddenly, "I really want to, but we shouldn't do this."

Your eyes shoot open, and you stare at the man next to you. Wondering if he is playing some kind of joke on you, but the serious look on his face tells you otherwise.

"Um, no, I'm pretty sure I'm not Married."

"Then what's this?" he cries, grabbing your wrist and holding your hand out in front of you.

What catches your eye is your little ring; it rests comfortably on your finger and glitters in the sunlight.

You got it when you were on your trip the other week and haven't taken it off since. Is this really why he has been so hesitant to see you? Because he is worried about ruining your nonexistent marriage?

Your mouth runs dry, "Denki, are you serious?"

He nods nervously, muttering a yes under his breath.

"That's my right hand. you dumbass."

He looks confused, and you take a deep breath in, rubbing your temples. "Wedding rings go on your left hand…."

He looks down at his hands and makes L shapes with his index fingers and thumbs squinting at them carefully. Noticing the left hand's proper placement he breathes a sigh of relief and grins at you. "Oh yeah, you're right!"

The tense feeling in your chest dissipates as you laugh aloud, knowing that the reason the Stungun Hero hadn't asked you out sooner was that he thought you were married.

"Soooo?" he grins, sending you a playful wink, "How about that date?"

[queenbees21]

|[ Selfish really • • •]|

Summary: You belong to someone else…. Yet he cannot accept that…. He doesn’t want you to be happy. He doesn’t want to see you happy with someone… someone that isn’t him… it’s selfish really…

Warning: grammar errors, not proffered, angst, kinda “yandere” Izana, slight OOC Izana, Slight description of suggestive theme - but not further than that.

🎴Pt1🎴

Inspired by: Sweater Weather - The Neighborhood

His eyes linger on your figure as you talked your heart away…. Your lips… all he wanted was to shut your mouth angrily against his. He watched as you happily blew on your tea, and proceeded to take a sip.

You kept bringing up your upcoming wedding day, asking him to come to it… and yet again; he refused. “Aww come on! Why not Izana? You’re my best friend. And I want my best friend to be there!” You exclaim, hoping that; that’ll convince him. Unfortunately, it didn’t.

He smirks at you and shook his head before taking your half of the hunny bun. “Hey!”

“Sorry Angel, I’m really busy that day. So I can’t attend your big day.” He lied. “But, I’ll be there before the day comes. You count on that.” You pout, but softy smile. Appreciating he can at least make time to come before the event.

Once you were done with your lunch. You both stood up from your seats and headed your way out of the coffee shop.

Although; still disappointed, you slowly started to smile as you thought of an idea. “Hey. I know that look. Don’t even think about it.”

“Huh? What do you mean? I wasn’t thinking about anything?” You looked away, trying to hide your face.

“Sure, whatever you say Angel.” You softly smiled his way.

Dame… why did you have to smile like that. At him of all people, you should be smiling like that towards your… “soon to be” husband… so why him?

“Thanks for having lunch with me Izana. It was fun,” You say,

“You say that as if we’re not going to have any more dates?”

“Hey! It’s not a date! It’s just a hangout. Don’t make it sound weird.” You cross your arms, as you both stop at your designated location. In front of your apartment, you look at him.

Izana didn’t say anything. All he did was stare at you; admiring your smile. He took in your beautiful feature, your hair; falls on your face, as your eyes gently look into his. Your soft cheeks had a slight tint to it…

You looked away; nervously, you bit your lip. The way Izana gazed at you, made you feel anxious.

“So uhm, thanks for walking me home! Stay safe Izana, have a good night.” You bid him goodnight; looking back at your apartment. Opening your apartment door, your turn your head at Izana; and smiled. Then you closed the door, leaving him with his mind wandering.

…

Izana thought of what could’ve happened; if he had stopped you from closing that door. Leaving him forever… leaving him for someone else. He’s imagination ran wild of again… what could’ve happened. What he should’ve done; knowing that it��d cause trouble…

————————————————————————

He would have pushed that dame door open. You’d looked at him, startled by his sudden action. And then, you’d question his sudden outburst. Although; he’d cut you off with his lips smashing against your own, in a heated kiss…..

He’d guide your body to the kitchen. He’d lift you up with your thighs around his waist.. and place you on the counter. His hand; roams your body, He’d place your arms around his neck. His hands would’ve made their home upon your hips…..

Your fingers; threads through his snowy locks. Slowly moving to his face, and leaving them there. You’d break the kiss for air, causing him to chase after your lips, wanting more…..

You’d shyly get down from the counter… and guide him to your bedroom. His smirking face, would get on your nerves…

Then after all that, both of you would fall asleep; naked, in each other's arms. Snuggling one another.

Izana would get to wake up to you, cuddling close to his body….

He’d gaze down at your sleepy features, moving some of your fallen hair out your face; to the back of your ear.

He’d get to caress your cheek and kiss your lips, which would wake you up….

You’d smile up and him, and close your eyes getting a few more minutes of rest. Though; he wouldn’t let you. By the way he’s pepper kisses on your face, says it all. You’d smile and try to hide your face on his chest….

Izana would chuckle, before taking ahold of your chin. Slowly lifting it up, and staring at your flushed face. You’d close your eyes and lean in, only for him to lean back….

He’d tease you, making you think he’s leaning in for a kiss. Only for you to get embarrassed when he stops and makes fun of you….

…. You’d pout and turn your back to him. The covers would slip down to your hips, making you cold and slightly shift….

Izana would pull you close to him. Trapped in his arms; he peppering kissing on the back of your nape, and cheeks as an apology…

You’d eventually forgive him, and turn to place your lips on his. Softly moving your lips against his, hearts thumping and blood pumping…

Your hands would roam his body: His chest, to his neck, and the back of his head. You’d play with his snowy curls, as he; curls your own (Hc) locks.

He’d get to enjoy the taste of your sweet lips against his, without a care in the world. No worries, no nothing…

————————————————————————

But then… Izana opens his eyes, he realizes that it never happened…

Reality hits him like a truck… you’re not here… you’re not in his arms. You never were.. and he knows that it’ll never happen. You’re not his.. and he’s not yours.

You’re getting married to someone that’s not him, the thought of it only makes his blood boil. But at the same time, his heart aches.. he’s in pain… he’s not ready to let you go. He’s doesn’t want to let you go.

He doesn’t want you to be happy with someone that isn’t him!

He wants you all to himself. You were supposed to be his, and he was supposed to be yours. How did it end up like this? If only you’d get his hints sooner… he thought he made it obvious that he had feelings for you, So how did you not get it?

Were they not straight forward enough? Or were you oblivious towards his feelings? I mean you do tend to miss the signs of things… was he not obvious enough? Or was his hits not that good?

Regardless; he thought he was making his feelings clear. Clearly I didn’t work…

… ‘Well it’s not like it matters anymore…’ Izana thought, as he sadly gazes at you walking down the aisle… his hopes and dreams… shattered as he watches you kiss your now ‘husband’. Happy cheers and falling flower petals ran down on you.

All Izana can see was you… being happy… with someone that isn’t him… and he doesn’t like it.. he hates it…

One would usually be happy for someone’s else big day. And yet, here he is; a small frown grace his face. It was quickly hidden with a fake smile when you turn to him.

That smile… it felt bidder sweet to him. It was a smile of happiness, not a smile of someone in love. Someone that you’d smile at, when your in love with them… but you weren’t in love with him.

You were someone else’s and he didn’t want that, he hated it. He despises it, he wanted to rip you away from your hus- No, that stranger. Take you away from him, steal you away. Make you his. And his alone.

It’s selfish really…

But what can he say.. he’s just one selfish human being… a selfish man that was in love with a woman that isn’t his...

Hoped you enjoyed! Stay safe and have a good day and night! - 👑🐝

Update: part 2 memories of you

[aria-ashryver]

WIP Wednesday!

(yes, on a Saturday. Shh. It's fine.)

Thank you so much for the tags @stars-are-within-me @aallotarenunelma @peonierose !! This is was a lot of fun! 💖

Here's a ✨far too lengthy✨ look at some things I'm working on at the moment, because brevity? Don't know her!

Immortal Desires: Starlight, Chapter 38

‘I don’t ever want to fight with you again,’ Gabriel said on an explosive exhale, agony shaking loose from his lungs to lift free into the stale air. ‘I had no idea how much it would ache, not being by your side. Now that I know exactly what I’m missing. Never again.’

‘That shit sucked, yeah,’ Cas agreed, turning his head to press an idle kiss to Gabriel’s temple. ‘But, like… never? I dunno — that’s most of my schedule for the week. I had light bickering pencilled in for Thursday right after lunch, I’d hate to reschedule at such short notice. And then “fundamental disagreements about toast”, that’s locked in for Friday morning, after I bring you breakfast in bed…’

Cas shook his head ruefully.

‘Yeah, I just don’t see how I can get out of that one. Sorry, Adalhard.’

Gabriel sighed, a warm thread of laughter trickling down his throat to settle behind his ribcage. He nuzzled his cheek in closer —somehow— smiling against Cas’s skin.

‘Oh, you’re right,’ Gabriel said. ‘That would throw us right off for “squabble about whether to watch Blades or Bloodbound” on Friday night, god. We can’t miss that again.’

‘I’m sorry, Adalhard,’ Cas repeated.

His voice was insistent, tight with feeling; blinking, Gabriel looked up to see a muscle flickering in Cas’s jaw, his eyes bright and glassy.

‘I’m sorry, Gabriel.’

Immortal Desires: Into the Witch-Dark, Chapter 1

‘That was terrible. Again.’

Morag snapped her fingers; a sharp crack that echoed and warped in on itself, folding within the edges of space and time as they stole along an inky shore of black twilight. A sea of gold stars washed over Luca’s skin, turning it dazzling in this far-away, nothing space.

‘I’m trying,’ Luca gritted out, waiting to catch their breath where there was none to catch. A curious emptiness ached in the place where their lungs should be — here, he was little more than light, and choice, and reason.

His great aunt stared down at him, unimpressed. Where Luca would have met her gaze, he saw nothing but two burning, searing holes, the vacant glare behind them hungry for knowledge.

Funny that a ten foot light-being in a vaguely humanoid shape could still look so, so deeply unimpressed.

‘We have a handful of weeks, a month, at best, to get to the bottom of this. We don’t have time for “trying”. Succeed or die. Those are our choices.’

Luca scoffed. ‘Yeah, no pressure.’

Blades of Light and Shadow: Dorian (MC) x Aerin Fluff

After last night’s dismal attempt at putting together a meal —when Willow had politely but firmly told him that what he had created was an affront to nature and gently escorted him away from the cooking area— he’d woken this morning determined to redeem himself.

In the cooking department, at least.

Like his other attempts at redeeming himself, it wasn’t exactly going great.

‘I am nothing if not consistent,’ Aerin said to no one in particular as he watched a spray of oil spit and leap from the sizzling pan. He yelped as it landed in the flames, the fire leaping up in an orange-red column of flame.

‘Woah, there, let me just—’

A large, calloused hand reached past his waist to grab the pan by the handle, adjusting it on the cooking stand until it was no longer in danger of setting itself, Aerin, and the entire Whimsywood aflame.

‘Okay, first we save breakfast, then we save Morella.’ Dorian fixed Aerin with a grin. ‘Move it.’

Bumping him out of the way with his hip, Dorian took over at the helm.

‘I had everything perfectly under control,’ Aerin lied.

Blades of Light and Shadow: Dorian (MC) x Nia angst

He’d knelt before her to tug out her old, ragged laces, grinning up at her as she’d wobbled on one foot, balancing her hands on his shoulders. He re-laced her boots with swift, deft movements, stealing half a moment to lay his hand over her own when he was done and give it a quick squeeze.

‘Wouldn’t want you to trip and fall in front of the dwarves of Zaradun, now, would we?’

His palm was broad and calloused, warm where it lay over her own. It was the first time he’d touched her in nineteen days. Since he’d healed her by the lake in the Whimsywood. She’d counted. She ached for him. All too soon, Dorian drew is hand away and rose, tossing her a carefree wink as he sauntered off.

His smile didn’t reach his eyes.

It never did, these days.

Blades of Light and Shadow: Dorian (MC) x Aerin angst + smut

[A/N: no smut in the excerpt but there is a smooch 🥰]

Aerin worried his lip. ‘I wanted… I wanted to believe it was real,’ he admitted. ‘That even despite all I’ve done, there might somehow be a way. That you could truly—’

‘Love you?’ Dorian cut him off, his gaze insistent. The night air lashed wildly around them, branches whipping in their trees. Though it was cold, Aerin’s skin seared beneath Dorian’s hands. ‘I do.’

Aerin blinked. ‘W-what?’

Frozen, Aerin could only watch in quiet bewilderment as Dorian lowered his head to meet him. He caught Aerin’s lip between his teeth, biting down on a snarl, kissing him with a fervour that bordered on punishing. A needy moan escaped Aerin’s throat as he opened to him, their tongues meeting in a heated glide that had Aerin grateful for the tree at his back, lest he lose his footing entirely.

They broke apart on a shuddering gasp. Heat flooded into Aerin’s cheeks.

‘Does this feel real to you?’ Dorian growled.

For a long time, they simply looked at each other. Dorian’s gaze bore into his own, and all at once, Aerin understood he wasn’t looking, he was seeing— Dorian saw to the very heart of him; all his bitterness; all his lies; his hate and pain and open scars and chose to love him anyway.

‘Say it,’ Aerin choked out, his voice a colourless whisper, the weight of the revelation so immense that it had all but rendered him mute.

Dorian tilted his head, his eyes raking slow over Aerin’s face; eyes, nose, lips, back again in tender passes.

Aerin wasn’t breathing.

‘I need to hear you say it.’

Tagging @lovehugsandcandy @nukritus and @dreamscapingsblog (and anyone else who feels like it!) in case you want to share anything you've been working on lately! I'd love to see what y'all are up to!

(no pressure of course, feel free to ignore this) 🤗🌸

[puzzledmemories]

((needed to just take time today to go through and make sure i didn't miss any drafts while i was sick, because i was missing. um. quite a few! and that definitely wasn't a i'm not interested situation, that was a my sick brain couldn't keep up with anything situation. and i still have stuff in the inbox as well. i also went through and added some icons to drafts so i can work on them tomorrow. it's late.))

((i would like to work on some replies tomorrow at work because i have no self control and i'm very close to caught up on my work i'm late on from being sick. however, there's a good chance i'm gonna be supervised during work. and when i'm supervised it's mentally harder for me to be on here. or elsewhere on the internet. even during my lunch break.))

((once i get home though the world is my oyster, and i intend to try to get back in the groove! i'm definitely struggling a bit on that front, which has nothing to do with how much i wanna be on here, and everything to do with my anxiety feeding me lies that i'm doing my best to deal with. i will be trying to reply to dms and threads tomorrow!! i think my mental strength is coming back. i was able to do more at work today than yesterday, and yesterday was a rough day anyway.))

((as weird as it sounds, i got burger king for dinner today and that really threw me off))

((i've missed being on here lots. i will try to be back tomorrow! it's just. really late tonight.))

[thaliaisalesbian]

i get myself twisted in threads

Chapter 8: who used to be me

Chapters: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15

Steve knows he went to bed with someone on either side of him, so waking up with no one there is a little concerning.

There’s a spike of panic before he recognizes Jonathan’s bedroom, with one of Nancy’s skirts hanging over a chair.

The kids—the kids are out.

They’re not in the Upside Down anymore.

He’s not in the Upside Down anymore.

“You awake, Steve?” Mrs. Byers sits next to him on the bed, feeling his forehead. “Oh, good, your fever’s much lower.”

“Good morning.” He tries to sit up, but it pulls something in his side and then he remembers the stitches.

“It’s almost two, sweetie. It’s not surprising, you were overwhelmed yesterday. You missed Irene’s visit, but she fixed up your stitches and changed your bandages. You won’t be off the IV for a few more days, though. And you'll have the catheter in until you can reliably stand on your own.” He winces despite himself when she mentions that. Steve really just wants to forget it's there. 

He hardly remembers waking up yesterday. Hopper was there for a lot of it. El, too. She’d read to him, one of those kids’ chapter books. He thinks if he remembered more of it, he’d know what book it was.

And then the kids. He’d seen them all, they’d had a fort? And then Nancy and Jonathan had made him come back to bed.

“I just need to check those again, and when Jonathan gets home from school, he can help you take a shower. I could help you now, if you’d prefer, or you could wait for Hopper. Whatever you want to do.” A shower sounds fantastic, but he’d rather take one alone.

The main problem is that he won’t be able to stand for that long. Not on his own.  It’ll hurt, and if they asked his nurse or whoever, they’d probably say no.

“I think I’ll wait for Jonathan.”

“That’s not a problem.” She props him up on different pillows—one smells a little like the shampoo Nancy uses, so he knows her lying down next to him wasn’t part of a dream or something—and hands him a glass of water.

“So, I’m thinking soup for lunch.” Mrs. Byers doesn’t need him to help keep up the conversation, which is good, because he doesn’t have much of anything to say right now. She talks about the kids’ fort and how they’d gotten to have a sleepover last night, how Hopper’s been talking to that Owens guy and he might have to go to the lab and have some tests run to make sure he’s okay.

She keeps talking the whole time it takes for him to drink the whole glass of water.

It’s half an hour, at least. It settles weirdly in his stomach, and he’s not sure if it’s from the remnants of the fever or if it’s everything else going in his head right now.

“Do you think you can move out to the living room? I can’t carry you, but you can lean on me.”

“Yeah, that’ll work.” It’s awkward, because he’s so much taller than she is, but it hurts less than walking alone does, and once he’s in the living room with evidence that the kids were there last night, safe and not dead, he’s able to relax a little more.

The fort is still set up, Will’s art supplies are out, and when he sits on the couch he can see El sleeping on a mattress on the floor.

“Is she…?”

“She’s just fine. You might not remember, but she tried drawing you out of your head yesterday. It tired her out a little, is all. She fell asleep not long before you woke up.”

“Okay.” Still, once Mrs. Byers has come back with the soup, El doesn’t sleep for long.

“You lied.” She looks at him.

“I didn’t lie, El.” On a technicality. “I never promised I would get out first, because I didn’t know what would happen.”

“You are not allowed to be alone now.”

“What?”

“Joyce and Hop said so.”

“El, we were talking about the next few weeks, until he heals up a little more.” Mrs. Byers interjects kindly. “Not ever again. I’m sure even Steve likes time to himself.”

Weeks? He’s not that bad off, he can even walk with help.

“I do, Mrs. Byers. It’d be kind of impossible for someone to be with me all the time anyway, kiddo. We all have school or work.” From the look on Mrs. Byers’ face, he’s going to be getting shit later for calling her ‘Mrs. Byers’, but she won’t say anything in front of El.

Hopefully.

El finally sits down, squishing against his non-bitten side. “You are not allowed to be alone. My rule.”

“El, you can’t go everywhere with me.”

“I will watch instead.”

“No. I love you, kid, but there are things I do that you don’t need to see and I know you can’t watch people for long.”

“It will be… practice.”

“Spying on me doesn’t count as practice.”

“Once a day?”

“No.”

“Every other day?”

“Still no.”

“Three times a week.”

“Nope.”

“Twice a week?” He shakes his head, tugging on her short hair a little. “Once a week?”

“Once a week will work, I guess. But only when I’m at school, and not after 2:30, okay?”

He usually has practice around then, and she doesn’t need to see the boys’ locker room.

If he’s allowed to practice again, that is. He wasn’t allowed to before all of this. His doctor had been very insistent upon it. And with all the new damage to his body… all the new scars… he’s not sure he’ll be able to handle being in a locker room again.

His mother would throw a fit if she could see him now. He's going to scar, that's for sure. And he's too skinny now for even her to think it looks pretty.

He wonders if she even knows that he was gone. He hasn’t asked Mrs. Byers yet; he’s a little scared of what the answer will be.

“Why?”

“I have practice that I have to change for, and after I have to change again. So nothing after 2:30, agreed?”

“Once a week, before two-three-oh.” She repeats, and he knows she’s just messing with him by the little grin on her face.

“You got it, Ellie.”

“No.” Her nose scrunches up and she shakes her head, like she can rid herself of the nickname that way. 

“Mom? Can I see Steve now?” Will’s backpack is half unzipped. and if he couldn’t see Jonathan right behind him he might be more worried about him losing all of his schoolwork. For a kid who typically keeps his things organized (or more organized than Steve had at his age, anyway), it’s a strange sight. “Steve!”

“Hey, buddy.” Will’s the one kid he hasn’t really spoken with much—certainly not as much as El, Dustin, and Max. He has a lot more common ground with Lucas, and even Mike, as annoying as he is. Will, though, is quieter, and while they talk when he’s over, it's not the same. Mike is the only other kid who doesn’t call him on the walkies whenever they need something, even if it’s just to talk after a nightmare.

It's because Mike and Will have Nancy and Jonathan, he knows. But he hopes they know they can call him. If they need to.

“You’re awake!”

“Yep, and almost fever-free.”

“You’re not allowed to do that again.” Will looks almost as serious as El had when she’d told him he wasn’t allowed to be alone. He doesn’t quite manage it; his worried face is almost identical to Jonathan’s.

Steve feels like maybe he shouldn’t know that. Or at least, he shouldn’t admit to knowing it. He can’t really remember the first time he realized he was noticing Jonathan, but the fact that it’s been long enough that he’s got his facial expression memorized?

Steve doesn’t know what to do with that.

Will pokes his shoulder lightly when he doesn’t answer. “I can’t make that promise, Will.”

“So you won’t make it to me, either?” Jonathan asks, and if it weren’t for El, his nearly-empty soup bowl would have spilled all over the carpet. Since when does Jonathan care about him putting himself in danger?

He's probably just saying it for the kids' sake.

Jonathan can’t mean it any other way, right?

(He doesn’t let himself think about the way Nancy and Jonathan had clearly shared a bed with him last night.)

“You know why I can’t.” Steve’s not going to say he’ll stop putting himself in danger when it really means he’s giving the kids time to run, get help, whatever.

“Jonathan,” Mrs. Byers says, maybe sensing that this is probably going to derail into an argument of everyone against him trying to get him to make a promise he knows he won’t be able to keep, “would you mind picking out a new set of clothes for Steve? He’s not quite steady enough on his feet for him to shower alone, so it was best to wait.”

“Of course, Mom.” He stops by the couch to give her a kiss on the cheek and ruffle El’s hair.

Steve tries to ignore the way his stomach sours when Jonathan doesn’t touch him at all. He knows what Jonathan thinks of him, he can’t let himself forget that.

“Will, El, please start taking the fort down.”

El looks like she’s going to remain stubbornly pressed against Steve’s side for a minute, but she does pull away without prompting to help Will.

“And you,” Mrs. Byers turns to him, trying to pull off stern but not quite hitting it with the way her lips turn up at the corners. “Call me Joyce. I don’t know how many times I need to tell you that.”

“Maybe just once more, Mrs. Byers,” He says, just to be cheeky.

“Oh, you!” She laughs. “Jonathan, come get Steve! He thinks he’s funny.”

finish on ao3 or under the cut

Walking with Jonathan is easier than walking with Joyce, at least. They’re closer in height, and he’s not as worried he’s going to crush Jonathan.

Actually, he probably wouldn’t even crush El right now.

“I didn’t know if you’d want a t-shirt or a sweatshirt so I grabbed both.” Jonathan explains once they’re in the bathroom. “Do you just need me to stay in the room?”

He'd love to say no, but he doesn’t think he can.

Once he’s sat on the edge of the tub, Steve can feel his energy flagging. He’d been fine in the living room, and the walk wasn’t even as far as Jonathan’s bedroom, so he doesn’t know why he’s crashing.

“Steve?”

“Yeah?”

“You can just go back to bed, man, you’ve gone grey.”

“No, we’re already in here.”

“You’re not taking a shower, then. Come on, arms up.” Jonathan somehow manages to strip him down to his boxers. 

“Hang on.” Jonathan steps outside the bathroom for a minute, or maybe it’s five. He can’t really tell right now.

“Mom says your stitches can’t get wet, but your ankles will be okay. We’ll just have to rewrap them.” Jonathan covers the bandages on his torso in plastic wrap and takes the ones on his ankles off altogether.

“And Nancy called, she stopped by your house to get you a few things.”

“Okay.” Steve lets Jonathan worry about the water temperature and soap and everything else. Even sitting up without a backrest is taking so much thought, because he has to worry about not popping a stitch.

He hadn’t had time to be this worried about his ankles in the Upside Down, and it’s weird to be thinking about his wounds constantly now.

“Nancy will be here soon, do you just want to sit under the water until she gets here? She mentioned washing your hair for you.” He nods, and Jonathan half-lifts, half-dumps him into the bathtub. He barely fits, but that’s okay, because if he wasn’t forced into sitting up he’s not sure he’d be able to right now.

When Joyce said Steve was awake, Nancy wasn’t expecting to find him nearly passed out in the bathtub. Jonathan’s sitting on the edge, holding a wet washcloth like he’s never seen one before.

“Boys.” She mutters under her breath, not really thinking about it. “You know he wouldn’t have cared, right?” What Steve might care about, though, is the catheter bag on his leg. Joyce and Hopper take care of it, mostly, but Irene had wanted them to learn, too.

“No, he did some of it. I think he just likes sitting under the running water, honestly. It’s probably the first time he’s been clean in weeks.”

She sets down the bag she packed up at Steve’s house; some of his clothes (but not too many, because she thinks she likes seeing him in Jonathan’s and that’s a thought for later), a blanket she knows he finds it hard to sleep without, and his hair products. Not all of them, she doesn’t think he uses them all every day anyway, but enough.

“Nance?” It’s quiet, almost slurred.

“Hey, Steve.” He hardly reacts as she cups water in her hands and carefully pours it over his head.

She should have grabbed a cup from the kitchen. She washes his hair for him carefully.

Nancy’s glad he's not up to conversation, really. She'd probably tell him something she's not ready to… or something he’s not ready to hear.

Tommy had asked about him today. He’d pulled her aside between second and third period, the only ones she doesn’t have time to meet with Jonathan between, and asked her why he’s gone.

She’d had to tell him she didn’t know, and she hadn’t been all that upset about the lie.

He hadn’t pushed.

She’s not sure she wants to tell Steve about that. Tommy might be a safe enough topic, right now.

But she doesn’t want to, not when he’s like this, half-asleep and pliable.

Looking at them like they could leave him to drown in here and that’d be okay.

Instead, she talks about the kids’ latest campaign—he pays more attention to them than he lets on, she knows, because she’s seen him at the school library looking up different terms and rules. He relaxes into her hands when she works the shampoo into his hair.

He’d let her do anything she wanted to, right now.

She wants him to look at her like that in much better situations than this one. 

Jonathan must have dug around in the cupboards, because he has a cup ready to rinse the shampoo out, and she could kiss him for it.

“Hi.” Steve looks up at them both, and with his hair wet like this, she can see the little scars from the plate on his head.

To avoid tracing over them with her fingers, she picks up the conditioner and squeezes it maybe a little too hard.

Jonathan doesn’t seem to have the same issue; when she looks at them again, he’s got one hand tilting Steve’s chin up, the fingertips of his other hand delicately finding the paths the scars take into his hairline and across his scalp.

If Steve were more with them, she might tell Jonathan to kiss him.

Nancy knows he wants to; they’ve talked about it. Before Steve heard exactly the wrong thing.

But not now.

Not when Steve’s eyes are so hazy she’s not sure he’ll remember this tomorrow.

Not when they haven’t talked to Steve yet, about any of this.

None of them speak as she rinses out the conditioner, when Jonathan pulls the stopper, when they get Steve changed into a pair of Jonathan’s pants and one of his own slightly-too-big sweatshirts, no t-shirt underneath.

(It’s one she knows fit him perfectly last year.)

They wait until they’ve got him back in bed to rewrap his ankles.

And if Steve grabs each of their wrists loosely—fingers trembling like even this is too much for him to handle—when they try to leave, they don’t have to tell anyone that’s the reason they stay.

They don’t have to tell anyone they weren’t really going to leave anyway.

<- 7 9 ->

[wellthebardsdead]

To Deny Godhood pt6

Part 5 here

———

Shamat: *sighs watching the last of his followers leave the room after his final service of the day, and among them, a familiar argonian from house telvanni* finally… *stretches and stands up, glad he finally has a moment to just breathe and stop pretending he’s Voryn*

Councillor: *suddenly steps in* You’ve done well yet again lord dagoth. It seems you truely are remembering who you are.

Shamat: *nods removing his mask and blinking all 3 of his eyes* I know who I am. It is just a matter of remembering what I’ve forgotten in my long rest… *sets the mask back down* if I am done with my duties for today I will take my leave.

Councillor: Very good. I’ll escort you to your chambers.

Shamat: I- but I thought lord nerevar said I was allowed to roam the halls freely now? Have I done something wrong?

Councillor: What? No you haven’t. Lord Nerevar may be the head of house indoril and this may be his city but I am still the high councillor of this temple and I granted no such permissions-

???: Is that so? Former. High. Councillor.

Shamat: *looks to the door to see nerevar standing there, arms folded and glaring at the councillor* nerevar. *smiles softly, keeping up his act of affection towards him*

Councillor: I- l-lord nerevar I didn’t hear you come in I what do you mean f-former?

Nerevar: *glances at Shamat and smiles before returning his glare to the councillor* you undermined my authority in the temple of my house and of the 6th house now mourned. I will not stand for this loose tongued slander, if you speak so forwardly to my dreamer than how boldly have you spoken to others lesser than him? What other lies have you sewn to further your own gain?…

Councillor: i- no- i *suddenly drops to his knees grovelling in a kowtow* m-my lord mercy! Please I beg of you! I was only being careful! We do not know if we can fully trust ur dagoths reincarnation y-

Nerevar: VORYN DAGOTH!

Shamat: *visibly jumps and staggers back a little in fright thinking for a moment he was the one being yelled at*

Nerevar: *notices he’d frightened the dunmer but doesn’t acknowledge just yet, instead kicks the councillor off his boot and continues his reprimanding* His name is Voryn Dagoth! I will not stand to hear him referred to as the sharmat any further!!

Councillor: *realising he’s really fucked up, now bowing so aggressively he’s hitting his head on the stone floor* my lord! My lord please forgive me! Forgive me!

Shamat: I forgive you.

*silence*

Nerevar: what?…

Shamat: the insult was directed at me. He called me by the title of the sharmat… I forgive him… I did not mean to over step- but… *steps forward and helps the councillor to his feet, blood from the other dunmers forehead now spilling onto him and his robes* I cannot stand the suffering of others… *places his hand on the wound, healing it with the little magic his jewellery like restraints allow*

Councillor: *grey skin turning maroon with blushing from the others kindness* i-

Nerevar: … *sighs* you are forgiven… and demoted in rank… go.

Councillor: y-yes my lord- i-i mean my lords! *hurries off and out the door without another moment spared*

Nerevar: *watches him leave before looking back at Shamat* …

Shamat: *kneels down and bows into a kowtow, long black hair falling like silk threads onto the now bloodied floor* forgive me my moon and star… I should have held my tongue… I never meant any har- oh-

Nerevar: *gently takes hold of him and helps him to his feet* do not apologise to me my dreamer… *looks at the blood now all over the Dunmer’s robes and hair* His filth has stained you…

Shamat: *smiles and looks away seemingly shyly* I-I was hoping to have a bath after coming to visit your office again… I suppose I’ll go have my bath now instead then…

Nerevar: *slides his hands around the others waist, giving a gentle squeeze* Would you like some help?…

Shamat: *trying to keep his lunch from coming back up at the idea of him touching him again, simply smiles and nods giving him bedroom eyes* hmm, maybe. If I’m not stealing you away from anything?

Nerevar: *scoops him up with ease* Not at all~ *carries him out and back to his chambers*

*meanwhile*

Xelzaz: *steps into his room in the corner club* gods… *locks the door and sweeps the room checking for spies or assassins before pulling the parcel Shamat had given him out of his robe* okay Shamat, what did you give me?… *opens it up revealing his journal, wedding ring and the Talisman Kaidan had given him, all things he managed to get back from Nerevars office* … *opens the journal and flicks through the pages, stopping as a note falls out of it* oh?… *picks it up and reads it* Contact. Neloth, he’ll know what to do… oh divines no Shamat really has lost it!!! Why that mad old bastard?!

[officialleehadan]

Escort Equipped

To Build an Empire

+++

Cuira allowed her maids to tease her in a way she might otherwise have shut down, simply because she was in such a good mood. As it was, the word spread quickly among her maids exactly how Bess had found her, and who she had been with at the time.

“I’ll never know how you do it,” Maritza complained cheerfully as she finished with Cuira’s hair and began threading glittering pins into it. “We’re all of us trained to watch you, keep you safe, and otherwise make sure nobody is getting close enough to do you harm, and yet, somehow, that hulking husband of yours managed to get into your rooms without any of us knowing about it.”

“He is your emperor, Maritza,” Cuira chided her gently, because while teasing was acceptable, even welcome, disrespect to her husband was not to be permitted. She liked Maritza, but Cuira knew perfectly well who was paying her maids, and that it wasn’t her. Until she was certain of their loyalty, her trust would have to remain her own. “And he was trained in infiltration before he was an emperor. Do you think those skills simply disappeared when he was given a throne?”

Maritza paused, chastened by the firm, although kind correction of her behavior. Cuira patted her hand reassuringly. She wasn’t angry, but there was decorum required, and as one of Cuira’s maids, her behavior did reflect on the throne.

“How long has he been coming to your rooms?” Whiloh asked more softly and helped Cuira up, towards her gown for the day. Dominik would almost certainly be wearing his armor to lunch with her father, and she intended to match him. Rather than wear red twice in two days, she opted for almost-black navy blue, decorated with crystal stars, stitched into perfect constellations. It took three maids to get her into it. One to steady her, one to hoist the dress up, and a third to lace it tight. “None of us have seen a bit of him, but lately you’ve seemed… close.”

“You need only know that he is not a stranger to me,” Cuira said, knowing that it would do more to frazzle her maids, and any spies they reported to, than anything else she had to say on the matter. “But do please feel free to come up with whatever colorful exaggerations you feel my father will believe. I encourage your creativity, provided that it retains the facts of who you found in my bed, and what we were doing when you found us there.”

It was something of a risk, but it also wasn’t a secret who they reported to. They could prove their loyalty to her by allowing her father to chase his tail in any direction that they chose.

Dressed, bejeweled, and ready for war, Cuira gave herself a once-over and caught Bess’s eye. “Please check on Hindera this morning. I have not seen her since she came aboard, and I promised she would want for nothing.”

“Yes Empress,” Bess said, still smiling to herself. “Would you like me to attend her?”

“If her own maids are not treating her with appropriate respect, yes, but tell me first.”

“Yes, Empress.”

Maids settled, Cuira nodded to Whiloh and Maritza to follow her, and checked the small comm that hid neatly away in a pocked amid her skirts. Dominik had sent her a message, requesting her presence by the siegebreaker wing of the ship, where he was to introduce her to the siegebreaker who would be assigned to her side. It would be a protection and assistance in one, for it would take a strong assault indeed to go through even a single one of Dominik’s enhanced soldiers, but she also needed those same enhanced senses to pick out the loyal among the court.

It was very difficult to find good help when everyone she spoke to lied as easily as breathing.

“We have a stop to make before we go to the meeting rooms,” she said when they were on one of the many transports that hummed through the base. This one was hers, of course, but there were many aboard the immense space-base. It wasn’t far to the siegebreaker’s wing. She had wondered about that before, about her nearness to what she thought was simply the bulk of their military. Now she suspected it was because Dominik’s rooms were still among them. “My imperial husband has promised an escort of one of his elite, which should make my meetings with the household go more smoothly.”

“And if he doesn't, you can have them shoot whoever is annoying you,” Maritza said slyly. Cuira didn’t laugh, but it was a near thing. “Where are we to meet His Imperial Majesty?”

Cuira sent a message to Dominik and got a reply that came so quickly he must have been waiting for it. “The training rooms.”

Cuira had never been to the training rooms. It wasn’t even close to appropriate after all, but she was beginning to realize that she didn’t particularly care what was appropriate. She had sacrificed far too much to propriety, and refused to let it steal away her happiness now that she was just beginning to find it. Still, it wasn’t like the ship didn’t know who she was, and Dominik’s siegebreakers would certainly know her, on sight if nothing else, but they very probably knew her by scent as well.

That was harder for her to understand, and made her a little uncomfortable, but there was nothing for it. They couldn’t turn off their senses, and she didn’t blame them for it.

She did ask Dominik if her perfume was bothersome, but he assured her that it wasn’t. The way he smiled faintly when he said it suggested he had more to say on the matter, but he kept whatever it was to himself.

The scene inside the training rooms of the siegebreakers was one of controlled chaos wrapped in careful order. There were other soldiers among them. Those who were brave or foolish enough to train with soldiers many times their own strength and speed. All the same, it was clear that the siegebreakers welcomed those soldiers in and taught them. Better, it let the regular soldiers practice techniques that would kill or maim a weaker opponent.

Cuira new almost nothing of military affairs. She couldn’t even throw a punch, and despite having a rough idea of how to stab someone, it being fairly self-evident, she didn’t have more than that.

Still, the first sight of her husband, battling against three of his own soldiers, left her mouth dry.

He was shirtless, muscles on display as he fought back. The three soldiers in the ring with him, two men and a woman, pushed him hard. None of them had weapons, but bruises bloomed under their hands whenever someone landed a blow. Those bruises barely had time to show purple before they were gone again, washed away by the nanites that made them what they were.

Dominik was giving a good showing of himself, to Cuira’s inexperienced eyes. She thought they were trying to take him ‘alive’, which made sense, all things considered. Dominik was an emperor now, and while many would try to kill him, more still could wish to capture him for their own purposes. She was glad to see him training for that possibility.

She might not be able to protect him, but at least he was more than able to protect himself.

Cuira saw the moment he noticed her. He paused just for a moment, gave her a roguish wink, and kicked one of the other siegebreakers hard enough to send him flying out of the ring. The woman dove at him, but although her strength was likely close to his, she was still much smaller. He caught her, and bodily threw her at his third opponent. Before any of them could recover, he ran for the corner of the ring, where another man was waiting, and tagged his hand.

“Match!” the fifth man yelled, and the other three pulled themselves to their feet, grinning and groaning playfully. Dominik paused to talk with them, and clapped one of the men on the shoulder. The woman punched him in the ribs, but it looked playful even to Cuira’s eyes. The woman then whirled and pounced on the third man for a frankly obscene kiss,. He caught her easily, and staggered for a nearby door, to the hoots and whistles of everyone who saw them.

Dominik only shook his head and climbed out of the ring to join her. He snagged a loose shirt off one of the nearby benches, but, much to her delight, did not put it on.

“You got here faster than expected, or I would have met you at the door,” he said, just a little breathless, and with his friend, the fifth man in his match, at his heels. Cuira thought about giving him the very-appropriate curtsey she should offer her emperor, and stood on her toes for a kiss instead. He made a small, surprised noise but leaned down to meet her with a pleased hum. Whistles echoed from around them. “What was that for?”

“I thought it was simply the way your siegebreakers end a successful match,” Cuira said impishly and startled a laugh out of him. “But if it was inappropriate…”

“Just unexpected,” he told her a shade too quickly, and slung his shirt over one shoulder before taking her hand. With the other, he beckoned his friend, who wore a very amused grin, forward. He was a tall man, taller even than Dominik, although not as heavily-muscled, and boasted close-cut blonde hair, and blue eyes. Like Dominik, he sported the metallic ring of nanites around the iris of his eyes, although they barely showed against the blue. “Cuira, this is Jyn Deurians, my closest friend, and second in command of the siegebreakers. I asked if he would mind working with you and he agreed to help with whatever you need.”

“Nice to meet you, Empress,” Jyn said, polite, although still resoundingly, charmingly, incorrect. He gave her something like a bow and Cuira resolved to arrange etiquette lessons for any of the siegebreakers who agreed to them. She thought their blunt honesty was delightful, but there were many courts where it would be a liability. “I hear you have a problem with people lying to you. I’ll be able to sniff them out for you. Plus, I’m pretty good at killing things.”

“You really should have had a siegebreaker escort before now,” Dominik said apologetically, but Cuira waved it off. “Jyn’s one of our best, and I trust him completely.”

“High praise, my husband,” Cuira said and smiled up at Jyn. “I would be glad for the escort, and I do need help with the household. The perils of running an empire. Everyone wants to know what we’re thinking before we think it.”

“Sounds stressful.”

“Depends on their motivations and how annoyed I can make them on the way.”

Jyn stared at her, and then burst out laughing and clapped Dominik on the shoulder. “It figures you married the only noble girl around with as much sass as you. Go shower. I’ll watch out for your empress.”

“You’re an ass,” Dominik muttered to him, but kissed Cuira again, to the titters and giggles of her maids, and Jyn’s snickers. “I promise he knows how to be appropriate when he feels like it.”

“I never doubted it,” Cuira promised, and cast her eyes on Jyn, adopting a strict expression that he could almost certainly see right through. “Commander, I will need you garbed appropriately. I assume you have something resembling my dear husband’s armor?”

“I- yeah?” Jyn said, apparently startled out of his laughter. “I have a dress uniform too, somewhere.”

“I would rather you look somewhat terrifying. Fear, I have discovered, makes people more inclined towards honesty,” Cuira said, and leaned into her husband’s shoulder, still just a little resentful that they had been interrupted this morning. Hopefully it wouldn’t take much to talk Dominik into another visit to her chambers, this time with rather more intent involved. “Now if you do not mind, Commander. I have a meeting in fifteen minutes. Shall you meet us there, or can you be ready in time?”

“Give me five and I'll be ready,” Jyn said cheerfully and clapped Dominik on the shoulder. “Come on, Dom. Kiss your Empress and wrap it up. You need a shower before you go yell at the generals.”

“Fine, fine,” Dominik sighed, but he did kiss Cuira one more time, lingering and sweeter than she would have expected before she got to know him. When they parted, he brushed his thumb over her lips and Cuira gave him a very wicked smile that made his heart speed under her hand. “Minx. Go on, I’ll see you for lunch with your father in a few hours. Perhaps by the time I get there, I’ll feel less like shooting him.”

“If you decide to do it anyway, warn me first. This is a complicated dress,” Cuira teased him brightly and gestured at her dress. On a whim, he lifted their joined hands and encouraged her to spin for him, which she did gladly. “Blood would ruin it, and that would be a shame.”

“Perish the thought,” he agreed, and pressed a kiss to the back of her hand. “Now go on, or you’ll be late. Jyn, keep her safe. I don’t trust Steil not to try something stupid while my back is turned.”

+++

To Build an Empire:

Garden Dome (Subscriber Only!)

Claxon Call

First Name Basis

Arrangement of Nobles (Subscriber Only!)

Of Adamant

Cross an Ocean (Subscriber Only!)

The Second Challenge (Subscriber Only!)

Snacks and Snipers

Torn Silk and Blood

Hostage Explained

New Understandings (Subscriber Only!)

Dinner Door

Enter Together (Subscriber Only!)

Changing Loyalties (Subscriber Only!)

Shots Across the Plate (Subscriber Only!)

Wine and Words (Subscriber Only!)

Waking Discovery

Escort Equipped (New!)

+++

MASTERLIST

[kinetic-elaboration]

January 15: Monty/Raven, Accurate/Indefinite

As is so often the case with me, I don't know what this is. I didn't have a strong idea going in so I just went with Dramatic.

This is part of the Ark AU, and takes place before the beginning of that story.

Monty/Raven, ~660 words, written in about 20 minutes

For the prompt "accurate, and its antonyms (inaccurate, indefinite, unreliable, faulty)" from my July Break Bingo 2023 card.

*

One thing Raven and Monty have in common is an unerring desire for accuracy in all tasks and perfection in all results, paired with a stark understanding that such things will never be. Their ship is old and faulty, and it cannot ever be otherwise again. They are both only part of the shoestring and glue that holds the thing together—not that Raven would ever admit to Monty's face that she gives him as much credit as that.

Their relationship, too, is uncertain and stumbling: indefinite, and in that way, one might say faulty, too. Two months after the first time, she finally invited him back to her quarters on Mecha. But then they hardly knew what to do with each other in the privacy behind a locked door, in the space of a single bed. He showed a certain patience that she'd never felt in him before. She would not be so naive as to say it was love or even desire, because desire is something lofty and beautiful, and they've only ever been clawing and scratching in the dark. Still, he took his time and he stretched himself out and he kissed her slow. He left her with hollows of time in which to think—something she'd always avoided in the past, with him.

She's heard rumors that all his other girls are ex-Prison Station, which makes her wonder if she's special, if there's some sort of hidden meaning there. Maybe he knew Finn on the inside and figures, close enough. Or maybe Raven crept up on him in some unexpected way, and he intends this no more than she does, and is compelled to keep going like it's some kind of dare.

Sometimes she shows up on Go-Sci just to rag on him about the hole in the security system in Alpha Sector 4, something she shouldn't even know about except that any fool could see it, and sometimes he reminds her that the patch job in that section of family quarters on Farm is so weak, he could probably rip it apart with his bare hands. He grew up on Farm and knows that's always been a damn trouble spot. But if she's such a genius, why can't she figure something out?

"I am a damn genius," she answers.

He flicks his gaze all the way down her body, slow, then raises his eyebrows like a dare.

Maybe she is special.

Maybe they will always be indefinite, faltering, because they've been broken up in pieces and turned old before their time, and they cannot ever again be otherwise again. That's when she thinks when she catches sight of sweetness in him. When she spies him across the cafeteria at a crowded lunch hour, laughing and joking, hiding that laughter behind his hand. He's only twenty, looks young still, sometimes, for his age.

For a while, in her quarters, he slides himself down under the covers and just lies there, his breath hitting ragged and tired against the bare skin of her hip. She lets her hand fall down and cards her fingers through his hair. Her lungs are working hard, trying not to burst. Something's cracked up, uncertain, a story they could have had together but she just can't find the thread of it, doesn't know what she's doing. She’s thinking not about the Skybox girls but about the Station itself, how he never talks about it, how he'd up and leave now without a second-thought if she even said the word. She's the shoestring and the glue, sliding her fingers again and again through the soft strands of his hair. Holding them both together, somehow. He pokes his nose against her hip. Underneath the blanket, he must be hot, sticky with sweat, unable to ignore for a moment the lingering scent of them, too aware of the wrinkles on the sheets that, somehow, they've half-pulled off the mattress. Surrounded on all sides by the wreckage they've created and become.