#th E IRON Y

[fedorahead]

facebook has introduced an ai. i fed it the darth plagueis copypasta

the tale of Jedi Knight Aryn sounds so exciting! she could move objects with her mind? i bet no other jedi could figure that one out

[totaldramafan-lauri]

Now that we’re talking about Golden Cheese’s muscles… I must bring back that 𝓯𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓴𝔂 dream Reader had…

Ah umm uhh… something something… Golden Cheese grinding us down against her thigh… something something something maybe she flexes her thigh to make it firmer for better friction… ermmmm… strong hands… iron grip on our hips… uhhh… something something…. Woah who said that

- 🐝

....WH-WHWHWHWHWH!!?!?!?!!???? HGDFNHDFTGB??!?!?? rghtjntfghbdsrfg!!! TRDTHBTh!!!1... ..r .egrtehbrg.....>//////<

........y-yeah.....ss-omething like that.....k-kinda like......f-feeling like y-you can't escape.....sh-she's so so so strong....n-notthatanyonewouldevenwanttowhileshe'sjust....t-teasingyouwithhervoiceinyourearasshe....*COUGH* m-meep-

I-I'm sorry if....y-you wanted a more......l-literate response from me but th-this topic, I-I just can't d-discuss withoyt being all mind scrambled lightheaded heart going doki-doki and it's e-embarrassing c-cuz I keep f-feeling like I-I shouldn't have the RIGHT to d-discuss her in th0this way, it's so so so.....aaaaaaaaaa.......>//////////<

[afrobrujie]

I’m my research around the Norse pagan sphere I’ve learned some things about runes that I didn’t know before. Here are the three main rune types there are are far more.

Elder Futhark - 2nd Century

Rune, UCS, Transliteration, IPA Proto-Germanic name Meaning

f ᚠ f /ɸ/, /f/ *fehu

"cattle; wealth"

u ᚢ u /u(ː)/ ?*ūruz

"aurochs", Wild ox (or *ûram "water/slag"?)

th,þ ᚦ þ /θ/, /ð/ ?*þurisaz

"Thurs" (see Jötunn) or *þunraz ("the god Thunraz")

a ᚨ a /a(ː)/ *ansuz "god"

r ᚱ r /r/ *raidō "ride, journey"

k ᚲ k (c) /k/ ?*kaunan

"ulcer"? (or *kenaz "torch"?)

g ᚷ g /ɡ/ *gebō "gift"

w ᚹ w /w/ *wunjō "joy"

h h ᚺ ᚻ h /h/ *hagalaz "hail" (the precipitation)

n ᚾ n /n/ *naudiz "need"

i ᛁ i /i(ː)/ *īsaz "ice"

j ᛃ j /j/ *jēra- "year, good year, harvest"

ï,ei ᛇ ï (æ) /æː/[9] *ī(h)waz "yew-tree"

p ᛈ p /p/ ?*perþ-

meaning unknown; possibly "pear-tree".

z ᛉ z /z/ ?*algiz "elk" (or "protection, defence"[10])

s s ᛊ ᛋ s /s/ *sōwilō "sun"

t ᛏ t /t/ *tīwaz "the god Tiwaz"

b ᛒ b /b/ *berkanan "birch"

e ᛖ e /e(ː)/ *ehwaz "horse"

m ᛗ m /m/ *mannaz "man"

l ᛚ l /l/ *laguz

"water, lake" (or possibly *laukaz "leek")

ŋ ŋ ᛜ ŋ /ŋ/ *ingwaz "the god Ingwaz"

d ᛞ d /d/ *dagaz "day"

o ᛟ o /o(ː)/ *ōþila-/*ōþala-

"heritage, estate, possession"

Anglo-Saxon runes

Unicode, Name, Name meaning, Transliteration IPA

ᚠ feh (feoh) wealth, cattle f /f/, [v] (word-medial allophone of /f/)

ᚢ ur (ūr) aurochs u /u(ː)/

ᚦ ðorn (þorn) thorn þ /θ/, [ð] (word-medial allophone of /θ/)

ᚩ os (ōs) heathen god (mouth in rune poem?) o /o(ː)/])

ᚱ rada (rād) riding r /r/

ᚳ cen (cēn) torch c /k/, /kʲ/, /tʃ/

ᚷ geofu (gyfu) gift g /ɡ/, [ɣ] (word-medial allophone of /ɡ/), /j/

ᚹ wyn (wynn) mirth w /w/

ᚻ hægil (hægl) hail h /h/, [x], [ç]

ᚾ næd (nēod) plight n /n/

ᛁ is (īs) ice i /i(ː)/

ᛡ/ᛄ gær (gēar) year j /j/

ᛇ ih (īw) yew tree ï /i(ː)/ [x], [ç]

ᛈ peord (peorð) (unknown) p /p/

ᛉ ilcs (eolh?) (unknown, perhaps a derivative of elk) x (otiose as a sound but still used to transliterate the Latin letter 'X' into runes)

ᛋ/ᚴ sygil (sigel) sun (sail in rune poem?)

s /s/, [z] (word-medial allophone of /s/)

ᛏ ti (Tīw) (unknown, originally god, Planet Mars in rune poem?) t /t/

ᛒ berc (beorc) birch tree b /b/

ᛖ eh (eh) steed e /e(ː)/

ᛗ mon (mann) man m /m/

ᛚ lagu (lagu) body of water (lake) l /l/

ᛝ ing (ing) Ing (Ingui-Frea?) ŋ /ŋg/, /ŋ/

ᛟ oedil (ēðel) inherited land, native country œ /ø(ː)/

ᛞ dæg (dæg) day d /d/

ᚪ ac (āc) oak tree a /ɑ(ː)/

ᚫ æsc (æsc) ash tree æ /æ(ː)/

ᛠ ear (ēar) (unknown, perhaps earth[16]) ea /æ(ː)ɑ/

ᚣ yr (ȳr) (unknown, perhaps bow[18]) y /y(ː)/

Youger Futhark - 8th~12th Century

The names of the 16 runes of the Younger futhark are recorded in the Icelandic and Norwegian rune poems. The names are:

ᚠ fé ("wealth")

ᚢ úr ("iron"/"rain")

ᚦ Thurs ("thurs", a type of entity, see jötunn)

ᚬ As/Oss ("(a) god")

ᚱ reið ("ride")

ᚴ kaun ("ulcer")

ᚼ hagall ("hail")

ᚾ/ᚿ nauðr ("need")

ᛁ ísa/íss ("ice")

ᛅ/ᛆ ár ("plenty")

ᛋ/ᛌ sól ("Sun", personified as a deity—see Sól (Germanic mythology))

ᛏ/ᛐ Týr ("Týr, a deity")

ᛒ björk/bjarkan/bjarken ("birch")

ᛘ maðr ("man, human")

ᛚ lögr ("sea")

ᛦ yr ("yew")

From comparison with Anglo-Saxon and Gothic letter names, most of these names directly continue the names of the Elder Futhark runes. The exceptions to this are:

• yr which continues the name of the unrelated Eihwaz rune;

• thurs and kaun, in which cases the Old Norse, Anglo-Saxon and Gothic traditions diverge.

Min Kilder (My Sources):

Elder Futhark|https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Elder_Futhark

Anglo-Saxon Runes|https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Anglo-Saxon_runes

Younger Futhark|https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Younger_Futhark

[hanwag]

Four, three, two, fuck you

Listen up y'all, this shit is ironic

Strider's beats are best suited to trolls hooked on phonics!

{Verse 1}

Karkalicious: definition, makes Terezi loco

She wants to know the secrets that she can't taste in my photo

Dyin' just to know the flavor

I ain't doin' her no favors

No reasons why I tease

Her flush just comes and goes like seasons

(Four, three, two, Fuck you)

{Chorus}

I'm karkalicious (so delicious)

No, I don't do kismesis

And if you read any fanfics

All that shit is fictitious

I blow kisses (mwah!)

Don't matter if we're just moirails

Trolls be lining down the veil for a chance to fill a pail

So delicious (super sweet)

So delicious (fuckin' adorabloodthirsty)

So delicious (even Egbert wants a piece of me)

I'm karkalicious (l-l-l-l-like candy, candy)

{Interlude}

Karkalicious def-

Karkalicious def-

Goddammit, Doc Scratch stop fucking around with my mic-

{Verse 2}

Karkalicious definition makes the shippers crazy

Nepeta's always squealin', cutesy pet names like karkitty

I'm the k to the a, r, k, the a, the t

And the majority of pairings had better include me

{Chorus}

I'm karkalicious (so delicious)

My body stays vicious

All the highbloods feelin' nervous 'cuz I'm doing some fitness

Zahhak's my witness (whistle)

Bet that ship curls Nepeta's tail

And he'll be needing all the towels 'cuz I'mma make him sweat pails

So delicious (super sweet)

So delicious (fuckin' adorabloodthirsty)

So delicious (even Egbert wants a piece of me)

I'm karkalicious (now you nooksuckers hold the fuck up, check it out)

{Bridge}

Baby, baby, baby

If you really want me

Honey get some patience

Maybe then you'll get a taste

I'll be tasty, tasty

I'll be laced with lacy

It's so tasty, tasty

It'll make you crazy

T to the a, to the s-t-e-y - fuckin' tasty, t to the a to the s-t-e-y - fuckin' tasty

D to the e, to the l-i-c-i-o-u-s, to the d, to the e, to the, to the--

I'll just spell it out for you

All the time I turn around trolls gather round always sniffin' at me, wanna guess the color of my blood

I just wanna say it now - I ain't trying to round up any drama, little fucker I just don't want you to know

And I guess I'm coming off as just a little insecure although I keep on repeating how the secret's fucking awesome

But I'm tryin' to tell, it's a secret that I just don't wanna tell

{Chorus}

Terezi says I smell...

Delicious (so delicious)

No, I don't do kismesis

And if you read any fanfics

All that shit is fictitious

I blow kisses (mwah!)

Don't matter if we're just moirails

Trolls be lining down the veil for a chance to fill a pail

My body stays vicious

Zahhak's been feeling nervous 'cuz I got down to business

Nepeta's my witness (meow~!)

I'll even let her first ship sail

Just watch that kitten be the first in line to fill a pail

{Extended Chorus}

So delicious (eridan, see)

So delicious (you can trust me)

So delicious (I'll help you

I'm karkalicious, l-l-like candy, candy

It's so delicious (ay, ay, ay, ay)

So delicious (ay, ay, ay, ay)

So delicious (ay, ay, ay, ay)

I'm karkalicious, (she says my blood is like candy, candy)

{Outro}

T to the a, to the s-t-e-y - fuckin' tasty, t to the a to the s-t-e-y - fuckin' tasty

D to the e, to the l-i-c-i-o-u-s

T to the a, to the s t e y - fuckin' tasty. T to the a, to the, to the, to the, to the

To the d to the e, to the l-i-c-i-o-u-s

To the d to the e, to the l-i-c-i-o-u-s

To the d to the e, to the l-i-c-i-o-u-s to the d, to the e, to the...now, wait just a motherfuckin' second

{Outro Interlude}

Do I seriously have to spell this shit until the end of the fucking song?

I mean, whoever fucking wrote the original never had access to spellcheck I guess

Because t-a-s-t-e-y does not spell tasty. Was this fergie douchemuffin illiterate or something?

What do you mean human rap artists are the only ones brave enough to write their own grammatical train wrecks and call it music!? What the fuck even is Will Smith doing?

He doesn't throw down sick fires anymore!?

Fuck this shit, I quit!

You really like that song dontcha

[thisblogwilleatourselves]

our MIND’s a wretched twist-ed / n n n gnarled tree ROOTs all chaotically intertwined ⚙️🔪 trappinG US here, LOCKED UP! 🔒 barricaded w—ith ourselvesselfselfSELF. Tethered & burndened in some *corporeal* vessel, ❄️⛓️ bound 2 stone—TO EARTH!!! and what d’d’we get? A mother who isn’t there—not th-e-r-e [hiccup]—no matter how we scream SCRAPE S C R A T C H at the walls walls walls 🤍💀—SHE ONLY HEARS HER OWN heartbeat. HER O-w-wn pulse HER!! own mind (but the cats still purr & the boyfriend’s grins are familiar 😺🐾).

Can’t escape. nope nope ❌where wOULD we gO? this stupid decrepit MINDscaffold Is A House on stilts stilts stilts!!! ❄️NOthing to stand on anyway so why try the fall’ll just BURY us ⛓️ crush us 🗡️ break break break (BREAK—!! do it DO IT--)!! it’s gone GONE!!! under snow suffocating snow ourself is already drowning and she’s got no ears—NO EYES EITHER only fingertips on cold fur... l-o-v-e-l-y isn’t it? 🤍🩸

Being WATCHED 👁️👁️!!? By what? Ourselves? Other's peering from the black-hole ether—noone “real” comes close enough to touch & even if they did, it’s all STATIC, screen noise noise noise!!! ➿ text messages blip! like dying stars, those cursed void-blips and ghosted signals—we CAN’T leave, there’s *NOWHERE* to leave, our skin's an iron cage cage cage!!! No escape...never escape...✋🔒⛓️

Time means **nothing** TIME rots us from within 🧠❄️⏳ walls of dust sifting through our non-existent bones. 🤍 isolation eats the marrow of our consciousness gnaw gnaw gnaw the gnashing TEETH OF SILENCE! our mother’s boyfriend can’t hear this, oh NO!!! 🦷❄️🤍 To him, to her—her cats & their starry-furred backs—WE’RE (d) i s t a n t echos 🗣️ ➿ echoes locked in the back of a room barred for a THOUSAND YEARS or MORE & more & more &

Just. not. real.

But hey! haha. 😂 There’s this bright, bleeding-wound reality-shock, a CRY! a LAUGH! 🌠 if we rip ourSELF APART!!! it’s our OWN hands anyway *n-no one else’s here NO NO ONE here but Us!* 💀 just her bed and our own mirrored EYES. Our tongue gone NUMB ❄️ limbs frozen against drywall [crack snap crack]—head’s hollowing hollow hollow h-- it’s alright-- it’s “OKAY” isn’t it?

At least—

It’s...consistently...terrible...consistent...

& oh OH how the ground gives way... voicesfadingout

[loquaciousnesssesquipedalian]

Transliteration of Hellenic alphabets

Hellenic (”Greek”) languages are a series of Indo-European languages with the distinction being mostly based on era but with a few ancient outliers.

The ancient version of the standard alphabet would be as follows:

Α/α - A/a: ’Ah’ sound

Β/β/ϐ - B/b: Hard voiced bilabial, phonetically ‘b’ 

Γ/γ - Ŋ/ŋ: Hard voiced velar, phonetically ‘g’ or more rarely ‘ng’ (the Latinic one given consistently represents ‘ng’ in general, but it is the linguistically closest match here)

Δ/δ - Đ/đ: Hard voiced dental, phonetically ‘d’

Ε/ε, Ⲉ/ⲉ - E/e: ’Eh’ sound

Ζ/ζ - Z/z: Either like ’tz’, voiceless initial or final and voiced otherwise or in certain digraphs, or like ‘z’

Η/η - H/h or Ę/ę: Originally an ‘h’ sound, then an unrelated ’ae’ sound

Θ/θ/ϑ - T/t: Hard aspirated voiceless dental, phonetically ‘th’

Ι/ι - I/i: ’Ee’/y- sound, could be either a vowel or a consonant

Κ/κ/ϰ - G/g: hard aspirated voiceless velar, phonetically ‘k’

Λ/λ - L/l: As expected

Μ/μ - M/m: Made attached voiced/voiceless consonants voiced

Ν/ν - N/n: Made attached voiced/voiceless consonants voiced

Ξ/ξ - X/x: ’Gs’ sound, voiceless initial or final and voiced otherwise or in certain digraphs

Ο/ο - O/o: ’Ow’ sound

Π/π/ϖ - P/p: Hard aspirated voiceless bilabial, phonetically ‘p’

Ρ/ρ/ϱ - R/r: Generally rolled

Σ/σ/ς - S/s/ſ: Either like s or z, voiceless initial or final and voiced otherwise or in certain digraphs, or just ‘s’, so consistently a sibilant

Τ/τ - D/d: Hard voiceless dental, phonetically ‘d’

Υ/υ - U/u: Originally an ‘oo’ sound, then an ‘uy’ sound by itself, like Ι/ι but with rounded lips

Φ/φ/ϕ - F/f: Originally a hard aspirated voiceless bilabial, phonetically ‘kh’, then soft voiceless bilabial, phonetically ‘f’

Χ/χ - K/k: Hard aspirated voiceless velar, phonetically ‘kh’

Ψ/ψ - Ɔ/ɔ: ’Bs’, voiceless initial or final and voiced otherwise or in certain digraphs (the Latinic letter presented was originally used this way in ancient Rome)

Ω/ω - Ą/ą: ’Oh’ sound, to Ο/ο as Ε/ε was to Η/η

- There were diacritics in a tonal variant, and the only one of still used is the acute mark. Also, what is commonly mistranslated as ‘H/h’ is actually a diacritic best transliterated to ‘

Variant letters: These were used in various variant alphabets, the latest of which was the Byzantine one, and the earliest of which were continuations of original forms of certain baseline ones

Ϝ/ϝ, Ȣ/ȣ - V/v or Ȣ/ȣ: ’oo’/w sound, equivalent to the Ου (Ou) digraph when a vowel, a replacement of the original use of Υ/υ, the second form was the Byzantine one, and one ancient variant resembled Ͷ/ͷ

Ͷ/ͷ - C/c: ‘Tz’ sound where Ζ/ζ had a ‘z’ sound

Ͳ/ͳ - Ç/ç or C/c: Some kind of ‘c’ sound, likely a ‘tsh’ sound or something like that

Ͱ/ͱ - H/h: Like an ‘h’ sound of some sort, a replacement of the original use of Η/η

Ϙ/ϙ - Q/q: Varies, one possible sound was equivalent to Χϝ (Kv), based on Κ/κ

Ϻ/ϻ - ẞ/ß: Like ‘s’/’z’ where Σ/σ/ς would have sounded like ‘sh’/’zh’, based on said other letter

Ϛ/ϛ - ſt/st: Sounds like Στ (Sd), the form was ironically (see above) inspired by Ϝ/ϝ but it’s otherwise unrelated (the uppercase-stand-in for the given transliteration is not an actual uppercase, but it is the closest to one)

Ϸ/ϸ - Ş/ş: ‘Sh’ sound, not used in Hellenic languages

The modern alphabets are based around the corresponding Hellenic one, which does not exactly match the language anymore:

Α/α - A/a: ’Ah’ sound

Β/β/ϐ - V/v: Soft voiced bilabial, so as expected

Γ/γ - G/g: Soft voiced velar, like G/g in Dutch

Δ/δ - D/d: Soft voiced dental, like the ‘th’ in ‘with’

Ε/ε, Ⲉ/ⲉ - E/e: ’Eh’ sound

Ζ/ζ - Z/z: Voiced sibilant, like ‘z’

Η/η - Y/y: Like Ι/ι but only as a vowel

Θ/θ/ϑ - Þ/þ: Soft voiceless dental, like the ‘th’ in ‘thin’

Ι/ι - I/i: Same as its ancient use

Κ/κ/ϰ - K/k: Hard velar, usually voiceless

Λ/λ - L/l: As expected

Μ/μ - M/m: Gives voice to certain letters in certain digraphs

Ν/ν - N/n: Gives voice to certain letters in certain digraphs

Ξ/ξ - X/x: Pretty much the same as its ancient use

Ο/ο - O/o: ’Ow’ or ‘oh’ sound

Π/π/ϖ - P/p: Hard bilabial, usually voiceless

Ρ/ρ/ϱ - R/r: Generally rolled

Σ/σ/ς - S/s/ſ: Voiceless sibilant, like ‘s’

Τ/τ - T/t: Hard dental, usually voiceless

Υ/υ - U/u: Like Ι/ι as a vowel and Β/β as a consonant by itself

Φ/φ/ϕ - F/f: As expected

Χ/χ - H/h: Soft voiceless velar, like H/h in Serbo-Croatian

Ψ/ψ - Ɔ/ɔ: Pretty much the same as its ancient use

Ω/ω - ��/ǫ: ‘Ow’ sound

There are variant letters in other modern alphabets, and of them are equivalent to Latinic letters with diacritics while others are based on variants of existing ones and/or Latinic equivalents.

[iguessigotta]

Can I kindly request a Drabble of Dark and Y/N going out to a very, v e r y fancy restaurant ( chosen by dark of course, ) for a date? I feel like he would spoil his s/o absolutely r o t t e n.

of course he would spoil his s/o! omg imagine being shy and quiet and not big on speaking up for yourself or what you want, so Dark spoils the hell out of you to help you feel more comfortable asking for things. imagine the smug, satisfied grin he'd have when you finally put your foot down and demand something! he's so proud of you, look at you go

You sighed, looking yourself over in the mirror. Dark had told you earlier that day that he'd gotten reservations at what was possibly the most upscale restaurant in town, that he'd handled everything, all you had to do was be ready on time. Initially, when he'd told you that, you assumed you'd still have to find your own outfit and pray that you managed to match the feel of the place with what you had in your closet. But when you'd gone up to your room that evening to get cleaned up and dig for something nice to wear, you saw something that made you stop in your tracks.

Draped carefully across your bed was a brand new, freshly ironed, suit. You thought for a moment that it belonged to your boyfriend, but then you noticed the flowers - your favorite kind - and a note sitting next to it. For some reason you hesitated, too nervous about what the note might say to take the few steps it'd take to cross the room to your gifts.

Gifts. Dark was always giving you gifts. You'd been insecure about it at first - you didn't get why anyone (especially someone as powerful as him) would want to dote on you and give you things with nothing expected in return, save for a smile. It didn't make sense to you, to be handed things free of charge. Even small things, like an iced coffee made just the way you like it, or a bouquet of lilacs laid on your side of the bed after a particularly hard day. Little notes stuck to the bathroom mirror or stashed in your pockets for you to find.

Sometimes there'd be some cash along with the notes, instructing you to treat yourself to something you'd been wanting, and to tell him all about it when you both got home. The first couple times he did that, you'd tried to politely decline, attempting to slip the money back into his hands when he'd greeted you at the door. He'd smiled, softly pushing the money back into your hands. "That's yours," he'd said, wrapping an arm around your shoulders to pull you in and kiss you on the temple, speaking into your hair, "and if you try and give it back to me again, I'll double the amount." You'd whined at that, making him chuckle. He knew you felt guilty about accepting gifts, and now he was using that same guilt to make you accept them.

Glancing at the mirror one more time, you turned towards your bed to pick up the flowers and note. In elegant handwriting, the tail ends of each letter swirling around, giving it the look of a drawing rather than words, was your name. A small, soft smile spread across your face as you unfolded the paper and began to read:

My Love, The suit and flowers are yours, take your time getting ready, then meet me downstairs. I don't want you to worry about a single thing tonight. Leave it all to me. - Dark

As simple and blunt as it was, the note made your heart swell, a few tears welling up in your eyes. It was a mystery to you why he'd chosen you, of all people, to be sweet like this with. You knew how much anger and sadness he carried around with him. You knew how hard it was for him to drop his guard and take off the proverbial mask he always wore. It was hard for him, you knew that, so you didn't mind if he was a little stiff and awkward, his loving notes a little blunt and to-the-point. He was trying, for you, and though you couldn't understand why he'd chosen you, you loved him for it.

Now smiling and giddy like a school kid going to meet up with their crush, you half-ran to the bathroom to shower and get dressed. The suit fit flawlessly, which didn't surprise you. Somehow Dark knew exactly what alterations needed to be made to any article of clothing to make it fit you like a glove. He knew, thanks to a few alcohol-induced breakdowns, the insecurities you had about how you looked, about how things fit on you. Never once did he judge or belittle you for it. Instead, he always made sure to have things tailored to help you look and feel your best in anything he gave you.

When you got to the bottom of the stairs you saw him, leaning against the wall by the door, his own suit also impeccably tailored, accented with a light purple tie - the same color as yours, you noticed. You lingered on the steps a moment, drinking in the sight of him, still blown away at the thought that he was yours. He must have felt you staring, as a small smile spread across his face before he lifted his head to look you in the eye. You felt your heart beginning to pick up speed as Dark dragged his eyes slowly down your form, as if he were trying to memorize exactly how you looked in that moment. When he finally lifted his eyes again, your face was flushed, your hands starting to sweat a bit. You'd been with him for some time, but he still managed to make every date feel like it was the first, excited nerves and all.

Dark smiled at you again, his eyes crinkling at the corners, and lifted his hand to beckon you over to him. You walked down the last few steps, a shy smile on your face, to place your hand in his. He raised your hand to his lips, speaking so softly you almost couldn't hear him, "You look lovely," a pause while he kissed your knuckles, causing your smile to spread wider, "Are you ready to go, my love?"

Unable to find your voice, you simply nodded at him, inching yourself ever so slightly closer to his side. You laced your fingers through his as he opened the door, leading you outside.

You weren't sure what you'd done to get so lucky, but at this moment you didn't care. 'I'll be damned if I ever let go of him' you thought, letting yourself be wholeheartedly selfish for a moment.

[loupettes]

As requested by the fabulous @darth-tella 😘 (I nicked your head canon for this one!)

A   T H O U S A N D   T I M E S   B U T   O N L Y   O N C E

SUMMARY: Rose wakes one ordinary Saturday morning to find the Doctor she's been building a life with making her pancakes in the kitchen.

Until he's not the Doctor she's been building a life with. 

Written for the prompt: "Please can this moment last forever?"

TAGS: fluff, romance, domestic mornings at home, everybody gets their happy ending for once!

Read on AO3: a thousand times but only once

“This is the nicest way you’ve said good morning to me in a while,” she grinned, and she heard his quiet chuckles into her shoulder. “I know you’re grateful for us having a chance at a life together, but the charade’s up now, hmm?”

She wasn’t sure he was fully listening to her, he seemed to be completely lost in his own computation. She let him do whatever he needed to do, because they hadn’t done this in a while and it was nice. They hadn’t breathed fully and openly to be near one another, their hearts releasing to know they had the other’s, simply standing still while they let their fingers explore each other for themselves. He was doing it now; he nudged her neck as his hands defined the planes of her back, her cotton t-shirt bunching up beneath his fingers as they swirled and stroked as they went. It was as though he was saying hello but with everything other than his voice, as though he was feeling the space she filled for himself to find her there with him.

No, not quite; it wasn’t as though he was saying ‘hello’, it wasn’t that familiar.

It was as though he was reacquainting himself with her.

Her heart dropped; this had been a long time for him. A lot longer than the forty seconds it had been for her to grab the milk.

“Doctor, tell me what's happened?”

He wasn’t next to her, she realised, when she slowly began to wake, but she felt the spot beside her on the bed warm. He hadn’t been up long, then.

And her lips curled to smell the coffee and hear the sizzle of the frying pan in the kitchen just across from the bedroom. She was sure he was bringing her breakfast, as he often did, but she swung her legs over the side of the bed and pulled on a pair of socks to go and join him, because she was just as often there in the kitchen watching him, savouring the way he looked when he’d just gotten out of bed; dishevelled hair and a spatula in such a grosely domestic fashion.

Pancakes. She could smell them before she even stepped out of the bedroom, and it was different to the normal English breakfast he liked to cook up. To be honest, he was still learning with that one; he hadn’t quite upskilled himself in timing, ironically enough. English breakfasts had become to him a bit more of a nuisance he was getting far too aggravated in his quest to conquer, and more often than not she was alerted to it being an ‘English breakfast’ morning whenever she woke to the smell of bacon burning on the hob and an aggressive ‘come on!’ when the toast was taking its time in the toaster. Other times, he might make bagels, sometimes he might make ‘breakfast lasagne’ — which are just various savoury breakfast items inside three pieces of bread instead of two — and sometimes, he even makes waffles.

“Wow, strawberries,” she grinned in delight, nicking one from the punnet before she gave him a quick kiss. “Morning.”

“Hello,” he smiled his usual smile, and for that she gave him another kiss. “Sleep alright?”

“Yep— although I had a really weird dream,” she frowned, as it only then came back to her. “I was back in my old school— same uniform and everything— and it was just me and Marcus, but there was this massive tree in the middle of the school grounds and, no matter where we went, we always ran back into it.” He was listening to her, but focusing on making sure the pancake wasn’t sticking to the pan, and it gave her the chance to really think about her dream. “It was quite scary, actually. I don’t know why, but that tree was not a nice tree.”

“So not like Treebeard, then?”

“Who?”

“The tree? From Lord of the Rings?”

She groaned. “You can’t talk to me about Lord of the Rings before 10am on a Saturday morning, remember?”

He smirked, which was a relief, because she was quite often met with a scowl when she expressed her indifference to that series. “Do I know Marcus, or is this one of your old school mates?”

“Marcus’s a dog,” she giggled. “Well— was a dog. Beautiful Staffie, my old art teacher used to bring him in when it was the last day before the holidays. Or on Wednesdays, sometimes he brought him in on Wednesdays.”

“Mmm,” he murmured absentmindedly. “Makes sense now, you were thrashing around a bit.”

She smiled a small smile, and wrapped her arms around his waist to press a kiss between his shoulders. “Sorry if I woke you.”

“Na, I was alright,” he dismissed, taking a sip of his tea — which she promptly took from his hands and assigned as her own.

She frowned as the smell caught up to her. “Hold on, why does the room smell of coffee if you’re drinking tea?”

“I had one earlier.”

She watched him while he was unaware, flipping over the pancake in the pan and busying himself around, looking for the various condiments he always liked to put on the table but only ever ended up sticking with sugar and lemon juice anyway. “How long have you been awake?”

“Hmm? Oh— you know me, not much of a sleeper.”

She did know that about him by now, that he only really needed four hours or so a night, but her heart still broke for him to know that, sometimes, he was really exhausted; the unproportionate need for sleep between both his Time Lord and human physiologies made for many tiresome days. “I wish you’d have woken me, we could have, I dunno, watched something together or something.”

He snickered and grabbed the maple syrup from the cupboard. “Last time I did that, you gave me an undignified grunt before you turned back over.”

“I suppose I don’t always take too kindly to being woken up,” she reflected, and he hummed in agreement. She kissed his shoulder in apology, before she turned around to sit at the counter. “I should be making you breakfast.”

“Well, I didn’t want to say.”

She grinned to herself, since his back was still turned to her, and she scoffed at the obscenely large stack of pancakes he’d been building beside him. “Who you got coming round for breakfast with all those pancakes?”

“Oh, just my other girlfriend, once you’re gone.”

“Ah yes— Cassie, was it?”

“Chloe.”

“Well, as long as I get the freshly cooked pancakes, I don’t mind,” she teased, and she still shivered delightfully to be reminded that she was his girlfriend. It seemed strange, like ‘boyfriend’ and ‘girlfriend’ were a bit too… high school for a love that transcended dimensions, but she wasn’t exactly his friend, but she also didn’t expect him to bump her up to his fianc��e anytime soon. She wondered whether he’d thought about it, about asking her to marry him, and it was just as before, when it seemed to be one of the only things they weren’t talking about. To be honest, she wouldn’t even be sure she would know what to say; marriage, a ceremony, it all seemed a bit… odd. She wasn’t sure why, because there was not a doubt in her mind that they would spend the rest of their lives together, but she supposed she still thought of him as a bit too detached from humanity for that.

But she did wonder, and she felt regretfully orthodox to be a little hopeful. Really, she had thought about asking him a few times, except she really wasn’t sure at all how he would react. She often imagined he would laugh, ask her what the heck she was on about in a manner not too dissimilar from the time she merely suggested they share a mortgage together on some distant world far from home. But sometimes, like now, when he snatched his tea from her hands with a soft kiss to her forehead, she imagined he might not be too opposed to the idea.

“Shall we make a pot?” she suggested when she heard him put the kettle on.

“You hate tea from the pot.” He pulled out a mug from the cupboard and chucked a tea bag inside. “I resigned myself long ago to becoming your own personal pot of tea.”

“Quite right, I’ve trained you well,” she grinned. “I remember when you used to make the most shocking cups of tea.”

“One scolding from your mother was enough for me to learn quickly the error of my ways.”

She cackled in agreement. “I still laugh at those early days, when you used to pretend you weren’t watching us make tea while making your own mental notes.”

“The Tyler way, or you’re out, it was.”

“And now look at you — mum always comments on how good your cuppas are.”

“Yes,” he mused. “It’s suspicious.”

The switch to the kettle flicked as she pulled the puzzle book of crosswords from across the table and picked up a pen. She scanned over the one’s he’d already done, and looked to the ones he hadn’t. 2-down: ‘the Nickelodeon show starring Nick Cannon and Amanda Bynes’. Easy, she thought, and promptly scribbled in the letters that spelt ‘ALL THAT’ into the right boxes. When she was about to move onto the next, she noticed she hadn’t heard the water being poured, and she glanced up to see the Doctor had stopped turning the pancakes, his shoulders tense.

“You alright?” she asked, and he seemed to snap out of it as soon as she spoke.

“Yeah — just, feel a bit—” he scratched his hair and sniffed “— I dunno. Off. I’m alright, though,” he added, before she could start worrying.

That was another thing she had noticed: she panicked a lot more. He had a human lifespan now, and didn’t have the option to regenerate should he need to. His mortality now was frightening, and sometimes she wanted to cling to him and keep him as safe as possible. She really had no idea how he used to cope, the old Time Lord him, knowing that she could be lost to him for good at any given moment and she always would be. She stood from her stool and tugged on his arm, pulling herself into a hug. He snickered at her neediness, and he knew that this was her way of panicking without actually getting as far as to panic because, well, he would never let her.

She still felt herself weaken to feel his hands touch her the way they did. Nothing had changed, of course; his otherwise meaningless touches had always burned so unbearably loving on her. The way he used to hold her hand, the soft touches to her arm when he would pass her, the distracted way he used to watch her and tuck her hair behind her ear when she would otherwise be distracted by the telly; all of it always told her without telling her that he was beyond any doubt in love with her.

His hands stroking her back now were no different, and she sighed with longing into his t-shirt. That one single heartbeat of his pulsed steadily, and it was something she was only just getting used to even now — although she never dared tell him because she knew just how much he worried that he wasn’t enough for her. She kissed the space just above where his other heart once beat should he ever need reminding that he was wrong.

And it always, always came back down to this: they had gone far too long without each other once, and sometimes they just held each other to make up for lost time. Her heart used to yearn for his closeness, the closeness of a man locked away in another universe, and she sometimes even felt it still now, pathetically; on the days when her missions took her away from him, there was an ache in her chest that she was promised she would never feel again the moment he whispered that he loved her. Being this way with one another was the only way they could at least start to amend such lasting heartache.

It was only after she felt him kiss the top of her hair and pull away did she smell the burning from the hob, and he only snickered once more as he used the spatula to scrape the pancake that had since fused to the pan.

“You and those bloody hugs of yours," he teased. "Won’t be long till I set fire to this flat just for one of your hugs.”

“So mine’re better than Chloe’s, then?”

“Oh, without a doubt,” he agreed with a dismissing wave of his hand. “Not as good as Molly’s, though.”

“God, you’ve got a new one?”

He shrugged. “So many now I’ve lost count of who I’ve told you about and who I haven’t.”

She scoffed as she flicked the kettle back on, and he scoffed at what she knew was his indignation at her needing the kettle to be as recently boiled as possible before she could pour the water into the cup. He once had the audacity to pour the water in before the kettle had finished boiling! 

She heard him wince, again, and this time, she really did start to worry.

“Doctor, please tell me what’s wrong?”

“I’m fine,” he reassured, and to be fair to him, he looked alright. No signs of lasting discomfort, anyway. He saw the concern in her eyes and his head tilted, before he took her hand and pulled for closer. He cradled her face in his hands and kissed the bridge of her nose, and, when she didn’t giggle, kissed her again until she did. “I think it's just a pulled muscle, s’all.”

“Sign of aging, that.”

“I think it’s a sign of sleeping in a bad position.”

“Which reminds me,” she added promptly, withdrawing herself to continue making her cup of tea. “I promised Tony a sleepover next Saturday.”

“Good,” he muttered, and she knew exactly where this was going. “Cos I want a rematch.”

She rolled her eyes, and nicked another strawberry from the counter. “Cannot believe you are holding this much of a grudge over a game of ‘Tumblin’ Monkeys’.”

“That kid cheats and you know it.”

“He’s five.”

“Five-year-olds can be cheaters.”

“Yeah, and nine-hundred-year-olds can be sore losers.”

He muttered something under his breath she didn’t care to hear while she opened the fridge to grab the last of the milk from the fridge.

“We need to do a shop today, we’re running out of milk.”

“It’s Saturday,” he dismissed, as he rolled a pancake with copious amounts of sugar up and stuck it in his mouth in one go before she had the chance to slap his wrist for starting without her. “Milk’ll probably be outside.”

She nodded, and poured what was left of the milk into her tea. “Don’t eat any more bloody pancakes while I’m gone.”

“Can’t make you any promises, there.”

The Doctor busied himself with plates before picking out a single gerbera daisy from the bouquet on the windowsill and slotting it into a small vase. Her heart wilted to see him so effortless, the awkward fumbling man he once was now a natural romantic — or perhaps it was just that he always was, only now he had the freedom to be. She rinsed out the glass bottle and stepped through the corridor and out the front door, where she found there was a fresh glass of milk outside. A bit of a relief, as always, because it would have been a difficult morning with no tea, and she placed the empty glass for collection on the floor before she frowned in confusion.

She turned on her heel and back into the kitchen. “Y’know, I could’ve sworn we’d ordered some orange juice this week—”

“Rose—”

She stopped dead in her tracks to hear him so… distressed. He’d spun around to face her, his hand gripping the counter for support as his eyes, wide and frantic, darted across her face in what looked to be a state of almost terrisome perplexity.

“What?” she cautioned, “What is it?”

His mouth agape, he seemed not to have heard her. His eyes flickered away from hers and next to the space around her, their flat and their home, which he only searched as though he wasn’t sure where he was. Her heart sank momentarily in dread and pity, but a feeling she knew well by now.

She had seen this before.

She carefully put down the glass of milk on the counter and stepped towards him slowly; he hadn’t been displaced in a few months now, not since the start. He used to freeze here and there, usually when he was tired, when he had first lost his heart in exchange for a life and the flashbacks used to completely take over him. Flashbacks to the war and after, they realised; the time that was just as fearsome and painful after they were first separated and what became of him thereafter. It would take him a minute or two to remember where he was, and she always wanted him to find her holding him whenever he eventually would. At first, he resisted, perhaps for too many years he had been left alone to cope with the wounds, but soon he learned to trust she would heal them for him. She would wrap her arms around him and wait for him to come back to her, and, after a while, it began to happen less and less frequently, until it stopped completely.

As she cautioned herself closer to him now, though, he was watching her. He wasn’t lost in his own memories of blood and battle, he was completely here in the room with her. So she held back, her arms cautiously hovering out before her.

“Doctor? What is it?”

As soon as she spoke, the second his name escaped her lips, his entire expression broke. His eyes bounced erratically across her face until the corners of his lips twitched, releasing a breathy exhale of disbelief where her name might have even escaped his lips, before he broke into a full, bright smile, eyes glistening and she thought, for a moment, that he might even be about to cry.

“Doctor—”

“You’re here,” he whispered, and the words seemed to instill a blissfulness within him. “How can you be here?”

She shook her head slowly, confused. “What do you me— we’re home, yeah? You’re here, home, with me.”

With that, she took another slow step towards him to touch his arms gently, and he closed his eyes the moment he felt her. She hadn’t seen him like this before, not at all in fact, so she wasn’t sure whether touching him and holding him tight would help anymore. He seemed to be here, with her, but just not quite, and she herself was still a little stunned in confusion and concern. His brow pinched almost in anguish as he froze under her touch, and soon after, she started to feel his fingers lightly touch her arm in return. It was very precise, very deliberate and gentle, that she didn’t take it as anything other than him needing to feel her; one by one, the pads of his fingers touched her arm, grazing the skin that chilled beneath them. He smiled to feel the small dimple at the top of her right arm from a chicken pox scar back from when she was a child, and she remembered the way he had once brushed his lips to it, many years ago now. His palm found her cheek not long after, and he opened his eyes to meet hers.

And she shuddered deep with how fast they darkened, his pupils expanding and opening until she could feel herself faltering beneath them, the sheer depth and expanse of a world up into which she only wanted to be swept. His world, a world of course they had started to map out together, but still, it never failed to make her vertiginous to remember he was hers now.

“Rose.”

Her name on his lips was a prayer, different somehow to the way he had said it countless times in countless ways. His eyes caught the light and she saw it then, a glimpse at the stars and a universe so familiar, before she lost it, his head dipping to the crook of her shoulder at about the time his arms pulled her into him.

“What’s gotten into you today, hmm?” she cooed with a smile, her hands stroking his back.

“I can’t believe you’re here, I can’t…” his voice was lost to his own disbelief, then, and she was still so tremendously confused but relieved nonetheless to know that he was considerably less distressed than he had been before, if not a little scatterbrained for whatever reason. She lightly brushed her lips to his neck and, again, he released a shaky breath that divulged a concealed smile.

“This is the nicest way you’ve said good morning to me in a while,” she grinned, and she heard his quiet chuckles into her shoulder. “I know you’re grateful for us having a chance at a life together, but the charade’s up now, hmm?”

She wasn’t sure he was fully listening to her, he seemed to be completely lost in his own computation. She let him do whatever he needed to do, because they hadn’t done this in a while and it was nice. They hadn’t breathed fully and openly to be near one another, their hearts releasing to know they had the other’s, simply standing still while they let their fingers explore each other for themselves. He was doing it now; he nudged her neck as his hands defined the planes of her back, her cotton t-shirt bunching up beneath his fingers as they swirled and stroked as they went. It was as though he was saying hello but with everything other than his voice, as though he was feeling the space she filled for himself to find her there with him.

No, not quite; it wasn’t as though he was saying ‘hello’, it wasn’t that familiar.

It was as though he was reacquainting himself with her.

Her heart dropped; this had been a long time for him. A lot longer than the forty seconds it had been for her to grab the milk.

“Doctor, tell me what's happened?”

“I don’t know!” he laughed breathily and in disbelief, pulling himself away. Her hands slipped down his back and to his side when he cupped her face in his hands, those long fingers splaying her cheek, and she gripped his wrists to keep herself steady. “I was— ha! I was regenerating! Rose! Just now! I don’t know how— I mean I have no idea how this is possible, but it is! I was regenerating, and now I’m here! With you.”

His eyes closed again as he said that last bit, as though he were holding himself together for fear that his perceived reality might only be transient. Her eyes flickered across his features, and he was exactly the same as she left him; he hadn’t shaved since they had got back from Cardiff on Thursday, and his hair was the same— no shorter or longer than before, no product or anything other than just a night’s sleep against a pillow. Her eyes lowered then, down to the hollow of his neck where she could see his pulse, beating quicker than she would expect to be normal, and she counted the beats in her head to check.

Regenerating.

She frowned, and her head jolted back as she realised with dread what he must mean.

“You… you can feel him— he’s, is he—”

“Me, Rose!”

“No I know he’s you, I mean the Time Lord you, you can feel him regenerating?”

“No,” he chuckled. “I mean I am him, the Time Lord me! Last thing I remember, not five minutes ago, I was regenerating in the TARDIS. And now…”

He swallowed the breath caught in his throat and his eyes wandered her face— deeper than that, even, as though he not only was taking in her features but taking in her. His gaze was so adoring, as it always was, but renewed somehow; he took her in as he would a new world. His features had suspended in an expression of wonderment while he studied her, and she considered what he was saying, what he was about to imply. She thought hard for a second, really trying to believe that maybe, perhaps, he was the other Doctor, the one she had not chosen back on that beach.

And for a second, just the briefest instance, she saw that he was.

“Oh my god…”

He shook his head in disagreement, as though the thing he was so unsure of was now so sure in his mind, while she now only stumbled several steps behind him. “I have no idea how this could have happened, but you’re here, and I’m here with you.”

“You think— you think maybe, when you regenerated, you, what, came here somehow— how can you have— across worlds—”

“I have no idea, Rose, I really don’t! But one moment I was saying goodbye to you on the Powell Estate, and the next, here I am.”

He looked exactly the same, but different, and she felt similar to the way she had felt at the beginning, when they first started this new life together. She searched for him, her Doctor, and the face before her changed back and forth so often and so quickly in front of her eyes that her head started to spin.

And then she gasped to feel it all so overwhelming. She was looking now at her original Doctor; the one who had to force himself to walk away from her was now standing with her in this kitchen and being given the chance he needed to let go of just for her to have her happy ending. She had let him go that day and spent so many months doubting herself, knowing there was a man in another universe alone for thousands of years when she had chosen to accompany one with a human lifespan. The guilt she had felt at having left him to be alone, the turmoil at loving two men and only being able to choose one and she shuddered now to know that, maybe, perhaps, she could finally have both.

“But, but what about my Doctor?” she whispered, and winced to hear herself say it out loud.

She might have seen his heartbreak had he not been so enraptured himself to be standing here with her, and he barely considered the answer before he shook his head. I'm still here, I’m still me. Promise. Just as before, same memories— oh, just— ah— yes, those memories, waking up now—”

She raised her eyebrow and he jolted backwards, his eyes closed but she could see them both flickering under his eyelids as he was ambushed, it would seem, by memories that weren’t quite his playing right before him until they became his.

“Oh, wow, okay— I definitely cannot play the trombone, then?”

Every now and then he would smile, or he would wince, or shiver as he recalled a particular memory, and by the constant shift in expressions she imagined he was remembering a lot and all at one — she imagined it must be sort of like how the recollection of one memory can inadvertently spark a multitude of other ones. She wondered whether he might be noticing the humanness of it all: the depth of emotions so intense when he was used to them being mostly limited, and the domesticity of his life now in this world. Maybe, she worried, he might even see how limiting it all is: the daily routine, public transport and a life confined to the barriers of Earth. His smile only seemed to grow with each snippet he got, the look of a man so happy with his life and she watched as her Doctor slowly returned to her — or she supposed, watched as both of the Doctors aligned with one another.

“Oh, right— yes—ah— we, oh— we do — we do that—”

She giggled to watch him acquaint himself with perhaps every sexual encounter they’d ever shared over the last seventeen months in the space of a few seconds. He looked flustered, about as flustered as he looked the first time she’d pulled him by the tie at the very well attended Vitex Christmas party last year to partake in an activity very much not intended for such an audience, his cheeks starting to dust a delightful pink.

“Oh— okay we do that a lot— oh my god— on the train— Rose!”

She knew she had her human Doctor here with her by the fact that, of all the memories he might be remembering now, it was so unbelievably human that he should remember those ones so soon.

“Can’t believe that was up in your top ten most scandalous places,” she teased, but she wasn’t sure he was listening. “Would have thought that time we snook one in on your desk during recess—”

“Blimey, yes—” she giggled to see him cut himself off, quite likely as the visual of — what she considered, anyway — one of their most phenomenal yet briefest shags played in front of him, before he shook his head quickly. “I think that’s enough of a trip down memory lane.”

“Mmm,” she murmured, and pressed a kiss to his neck nonetheless, just above his pulse. Oh god, she thought, as she considered how her wanting to feather those kisses all over him so soon after he had shown all the physical stuff to be quite overwhelming to be not the best thing for him right now.

Down girl.

She shook her head, confused, and she was a little surprised to find he must have been watching her when he responded to her disorientation with a quiet hum. “How can this — that happen? How can you just… remember stuff that didn’t actually happen to you?”

He chuckled, and cupped her face in his hands, his thumb brushing gently over the heat under her cheeks. He seemed to lose himself in it, momentarily captured by her and, she could only presume, her humanity. “How many times have I told you, it is me?” When she only looked back at him and didn’t show any signs of understanding, he continued, “This has never happened before — well, that I’m aware, anyway, but I can only imagine it’s something to do with our bond. Signal was a bit weak — well, okay, almost entirely severed — through the impenetrable walls of the universes, but now that I’m somehow here, it’s like it’s tuned in properly.”

“Wait — could you feel each other through the universes?”

“No, not exactly,” he said with a crease in his brow. “Certainly when we were in the same universe, we were on exactly the same wavelength, thinking the same and all that stuff. But once I sealed the other universe off, we sort of lost it. I think— I think I knew—”

“You were regenerating,” she finished quietly, and he nodded.

“I think something like that would surely be felt by the other. Like the death of a twin, I suppose.”

She had to fight back the tears to know that he had so recently gone through the process of regenerating. She remembered, unfairly perfectly, how awful it was to watch him in so much pain, all those years ago, and she was too afraid to ask whether he’d had to regenerate alone this time.

“We’re standing in exactly the same place — occupying the same space — at exactly the same time, and we are exactly the same,” he continued. “Guess it was just a case of… I don’t know. Finding each other and slotting into place.”

“Like bosons,” she mused.

He blinked. “I’m sorry?”

“Remember? When we were in Devon, looking up at those stars, and you were telling me about how only bosons and not fermions can occupy the same place at the same time?"

He continued to look at her confused, and tilted his head. “Wait— you remembered that?”

She shrugged with a nod. “I remember you talking about the big bang. Somethin’ about a particle bumping into some boson and setting it all off, making everything ‘be’. Something comes along and interacts with a boson and BAM. Mass gets added, it exists.”

His smile was sweet, in awe, and he looked at her softly. “While I am in awe that you remembered me babbling on about the Higgs field and that’s where your brilliant little mind went, it’s a bit more like…” he frowned, and she couldn’t help but grin at his own confusion. He seemed to not really know what it was he wanted to say, so, in the meantime, she snatched his glasses from the counter and fixed them on herself.

“‘Bosons can inhabit the same space at the same time’,” she recounted in her best and most exaggerated expression of him.

“I’m going to need you to stop talking to me about quantum mechanics and especially when you’re wearing those glasses,” he warned — even nearly groaned — and she wondered whether the Time Lord might finally be realising why his human counterpart had so many more of those particular memories. He was distracted, definitely, and even more so when his gaze began to travel south, before he scrunched his eyes shut and shook his head. “How did we get onto quantum mechanics, again?”

“You crossin’ universes and being’ here”— she held out one hand — “some other psychicsy thing that makes no sense” —she held out her other hand — “dunno, seems about right to me.”

“Ah, yes! The crossing universes thing,” he nodded. “So I suppose I’d say, think less ‘Higgs boson’ and more ‘huon particle’.”

“What?”

Again, he shook his head. “Nevermind.”

“But I still don’t understand why,” she stressed. “I mean, I still don’t understand the how, to be honest, but — why did this happen?”

“I don’t know,” he sighed, and he really did sound quite lost. “But I think… I think this is my reward.”

She frowned. “Reward for what?”

He didn’t reply at first, he seemed to be watching her for a moment before his own thoughts took over.

“For what I had to do.”

His words were heavy and final, and she realised he didn’t quite want to talk about whatever it was. Nothing much had changed there, then, but she was plagued to see him look a way he hadn’t looked for a while, steeped in regret and remorse and hurt. She had almost forgotten what it felt like, having him feel so broken, and it pained her to realise he never stopped feeling that way. All the time she and her human Doctor had been together, all the chance at healing he had had, the Time Lord hadn’t. It was normal for her now to ask him more, and he had gotten at least somewhat used to talking about his feelings, but she imagined the worst thing she could possibly do right now was make him relive whatever atrocity it was that made him — the Doctor — think he was owed a reward for.

“My regeneration, it wasn’t instant,” he explained, and she again felt a sharp sting in her chest at his having recently needed to regenerate. She pulled herself in closer to him and shivered in anguish, and he kissed the top of her head. “S’okay, I’m alright.” She nodded, and he proceeded a bit more softly. “I had a bit of time in between. Not too long, but enough for me to be a little bit selfish. Retribution, I suppose.”

“You’re the least selfish person I know,” she lamented, her cheek pressed to his chest and she scrunched her eyes shut to only wish he could see it the way she did.

“You would say that,” he said quietly.

“Doctor—” his name caught in her throat, and she had to swallow before she could continue on steadily. “You deserve the future you want. Whatever you had to go through, whatever dreadful thing forced your regeneration, I know you only had to do it because you were saving somebody. That’s what you do, you put everybody else before yourself every single time and ask for nothing in return—“ she had to pause and regain herself, because she could hear the quiver in her voice. She took a deep breath, leaned her head back to his chest and closed her eyes again. “Just ask. That's all you'll need to do to get what you want.”

He seemed to sadden by the way his shoulders slumped on his exhale, and she couldn’t understand why he could never accept happiness. Even the more human Doctor — which she supposed was the man standing in front of her still — took a long time to realise that maybe he might be able to be happy, and she still wasn’t entirely sure whether he believed so truly even to this day. She supposed having the consciousness of the Time Lord Doctor only took him several steps back, and she wasn’t about to let him have a moment’s doubt that he couldn’t have this. So, she stood on her tiptoes, and brought their lips together.

They had shared so many kisses over the last seventeen months that this was nothing extraordinary, but to her it felt different. The moment her lips touched his, it felt just like the first time, and she could almost taste the salt on his lips from that windswept beach. He didn’t kiss her in return with familiarity; he was hesitant, like this was new for him even though it couldn’t have been. While he only seemed guarded, she was ungoverned, sure, and she kissed him with everything she knew to be true; them, the love she had for him and the love they had together, all his flaws and insecurities and she kissed those with just as much love and adoration as his virtues and morals. She knew she could make him learn how to heal and forgive himself by only allowing her to love him as she did: with all that she had. So it was with all that she had that she kissed him now, until all those thousands of times that she had kissed him alike became this time.

Soon, he began to return the kiss. His fingers threaded through her hair cupped the back of her head, and he kissed her in such a way that felt familiar and yet completely new; she couldn’t be sure whether this was muscle memory or the intolerable restraint of a Time Lord in love with a mortal finally shattering. Perhaps, it was both.

She had had this kiss before, one where she felt him crumble beneath her lips, a kiss such as an oncoming wave that drew out back with it his fears. It was overwhelmingly powerful, when he kissed her like this, and when they broke apart, he was breathless, but she wasn’t. She listened to him, almost even heard his heart beating frantically, and placed sweet, gentle kisses across his cheek as he regained control over his breathing. His head bowed to the crook of her neck and she held him close to her, fingers combing through his hair and down the nape of his neck and back up again. He liked that the most, when she would brush her fingers over the very top of his spine, as though it were enough to travel all the way down and set alight every nerve in his body in turn, to feel alive and know that she was there to feel alive with him, too.

“Tell me you love me,” he whispered his plea into her skin.

He had heard it a thousand times but only once. When she whispered her love for him, it wasn’t her response, nor was it her compliance. He had only ever heard it as their parting; now, she meant it as their promise. A promise that was his to keep for as long as he wanted to hold her to it, and when she was sure that he had heard her, when she was certain he knew of his reward, she reached her arms up and around his neck to transcribe her words and promises into kisses upon his skin.

Over and over she kissed him, slowly, deliberately, lulling him into her protection, telling him that this, his future, that swelling of his heart and the warmth beneath his skin that he felt right now was not even the universe’s for the taking.

All he had to do was ask.

“Please can this moment last forever?” he breathed, and even then, she didn’t know for sure who he was talking to.

So, with the smile that came when he had answered her this very question in not so many words seventeen months ago, she whispered,

“Yes.”

[ode-to-fury]

Winter Thorns and Iron Crowns Pt. 6

Summary: I was supposed to be studying for finals so of course I wrote this instead. This is self indulgence at its f i n e s t I hope you enjoy!

Pairings: Stannis Baratheon x reader (eventual)

Disclaimer: part of this fic was inspired by this post because I’m soft and it made me have all sorts of feelings. Also by now you may have noticed most of these could be read as oneshots that sort of come together to form a narrative, and also this is just some fun, so I hope everyone who reads this enjoys it.

“Let’s go hawking!” Y/n said suddenly, jumping up from the small couch in Stannis’ rooms.

He groaned, and leant back in his chair.

“Riding, then?” She asked, looking at him pleadingly.

He looked back at her, but made no move to get up from the chair.

“Please, Stannis!” She said, folding her hands together. “I’m bored.”

“Then go and fetch another book from the library,” he said, “I told you no one uses my father’s study any more, and all the books are- “

“But we’ve been inside all day,” she said, “and the weather’s wonderful outside, and I want to go hawking, and you can’t possibly mean to sit and do sums all day- “

“Alright!” He interrupted her pleading. “Alright. Stop yammering.”

She smiled despite his curtness. She was used to it, with him. What other fifteen year old boy would use the word yammering?

Everyone always said she had too much energy. Rhaegar even went as far as to say it was positively unladylike, though he always said it with a smile.

“I came to visit you, not sit and watch you do work.”

He rolled his eyes, but finally, reluctantly, stood up from the desk.

She’d always liked his rooms. They were built more toward the center of the towerlike structure that was Storm’s End, so they had no windows, unlike her rooms in Meagor’s Holdfast, but the walls were a light sandy colour, and they were spacious enough that she hardly noticed the lack of windows. She’d only visited him a few times since coming to King’s Landing, though she wished she could come more. It wasn’t really proper for either of them to visit each other alone.

“Besides,” she grinned sideways at him as they started toward the outer courtyard, “I wasn’t yammering, I was just making my point.”

“Loudly,” came the short reply, “Repeatedly.”

She smiled again.

They walked the rest of the way in silence, though with Stannis it was always a comfortable silence. She’d grown about three inches since the last time she had seen him, but as always, he towered over her. He was just as lanky as the last time she’d seen him too, however, and just as uncomfortable. She tried not to think too much about that last visit, about a year before. The hardness in his deep blue eyes had eased slightly since the funeral, but he still frowned too much. Robert was still nowehere to be found. She hadn’t ever really minded Robert. Sure, he was crass and loud, but he reminded her of Brandon, in a way. He had left, however, after lord Steffon and lady Cassana had died, and Y/n would never forgive him for that.

Renly was in the castle currently, probably being tended to by Maester Cressen or one of his doting nurses. Y/n would be lying if she said she did not dote on the little toddler as well, but he was such a happy child. It was good to hear someone in the keep laughing.

She hoped that he would help Stannis, perhaps make him feel less alone, though she knew he would also be a reminder to him, always. Not for the first time, she secretly wished that lady Cassana had sent her letter to Winterfell before the queen had sent hers.

In the courtyard between the seaward wall and the tower, a mews, smithy and stables all nestled, safely tucked away from the storms that ravaged the coast of Shipbreaker Bay.

She dashed ahead of Stannis when she saw the bird cages, eagerly looking for one who seemed like a good hunting bird.

Her eyes landed on a falcon with white feathers under its wings.

“I don’t like hawking,” Stannis said from behind her, walking up to the cages much more slowly.

“You don’t like anything,” she said sourly, frowning as she turned back to him.

He scowled back just as hard, but she was used to it from him by now.

“Besides,” she continued, not giving him a chance to object further, “That’s a blatant lie. Now saddle your horse.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~<~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“I should leave her to die,” Stannis said, dejectedly.

Vermithor frisked beneath her. He’d never liked being cooped up for more than a day or two, and he’d been confined to the stables at Storm’s End for three now.

The falcon on her shoulder was sitting serenely as the two of them rode with their escort to the open fields south of the Kingswood.

Stannis had his teeth clenched on his roan gelding, Proudwing perched on his shoulder. She did not need a hood to stay still, and clung to him like a child.

“Don’t say such things,” Y/n scolded gently. “She’s wonderful.”

“She still will not fly properly, or hunt,” he said sourly, yet he still chose her out of all the birds in the cage. “It has been almost six years now.”

She frowned.

“She will,” she said, surprised at the conviction in her own voice. “You’ll see. And even if she does not, you can’t just leave her. It isn’t right.”

He looked over at her, but only grunted.

“It isn’t, Stannis,” she said again, trying to get him to see sense. She couldn’t explain why, but she knew it was important.

“She’s worthless,” he said.

“She is not worthless!” She said, nearly turning in her saddle to face him.

“It’s what everyone says. Robert, my uncle, everyone.”

She frowned again.

“My uncle says I should stop coddling her. Then perhaps she’d learn to fly properly.”

She had to bite the inside of her cheek to stop the tightness in her chest. Why wouldn’t he just understand?

“I don’t think you are coddling her,” she tried, but Stannis was not listening. He was staring at the reigns in his hands like he wanted to set them on fire.

“My father and my uncle used to tell my mother to stop coddling me as well” he said then, softly. She hastly looked around to make sure that none of the guards were close enough to hear, but most of them left the two of them to their devices, and rode too far away to hear conversations. It was the first time he’d spoken to her of his parents, the first time he had even mentioned them in a year.

“My uncle says it’s why I can’t fight as well as Robert, or ride, or hawk,” as he spoke, the words became angrier, until Proudwing gave a small squawk from his shoulder, and he gave a start like he had forgotten where he was.

Immediately his ears turned bright red, and he avoided Y/n’s eyes.

She hastily cast around for something to say that would comfort him. Normally words came easy with him, but this... this was something else.

“My father used to say I couldn’t ride as well as Lyanna either,” she finally said. “Or dance, or swim, or hawk. At least yours wanted you.”

She smiled sheepishly at him. “Mine sent me half a world away.”

His dark blue eyes lightened slightly. It wasn’t much, but it felt easier to breathe nonetheless.

“You ride like you were born in a saddle,” he said, “It isn’t the same.”

“It isn’t that hard, only you’re too tense.”

He frowned at her again, but this time it was a familiar frown, a special one he kept just for her.

Proudwing squawked on his shoulder again, and he cast a glance at her.

“You’re right,” he said to her, curtly, “I am smarter than Robert, at least.”

Y/n laughed, the tight feeling leaving her chest again.

For a second, Stannis looked over at her like he wanted to say something, but he frowned and looked away quickly enough that she thought she had imagined it.

“I’ll race you to the hawking spot,” she said suddenly, feeling like she had to do something or burst out of her skin. She kicked Vermithor, and the stallion sprang away with a fury. She heard Stannis curse quietly behind her, but to her surprise, hoofbeats started after her. She laughed into the wind, alive, free.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“You know, letters are supposed to be legible, I’ve heard.”

“You know, letters are supposed to be private, I’ve heard.”

“It isn’t my fault you write your little love letters where everyone can see. Is that how they taught you to do it in the North?”

Y/n but her tongue. If she did not, she would start yelling, and she’d gotten in trouble enough over Cersei as it was.

“It isn’t a love letter,” she snapped. “I’m writing to my sister. Don’t you have anything better to do than bother me?”

Cersei smirked.

“I suppose you have to, don’t you?” She said. “It must be so awfully boring up in the North, any sort of news must be welcome.”

Like Lannisport is so much better, she wanted to snap. She kept herself in check, however. Arthur would have been proud, if he was there. He and Rhaegar had ridden off to Summerhall. Again.

She wondered what they did there. Arthur said that Rhaegar just went there to play his harp and walk amongst the ruins, but she didn’t believe it. That sounded much too boring for Rhaegar Targaryen.

“My father told me the only reason you’re even here is because the queen felt bad for you,” Cersei continued, jerking Y/n out of her thoughts. She’d almost forgotten where she was for a moment.

“Truly?” She asked, finishing her letter. She didn’t deign to reply to Cersei, because she knew the other girl was wrong. The reason Y/n was in King’s Landing was that king Aerys had heard lady Cassana was going to offer her a wardship, and it would not do to have the Starks and Baratheons joined in marriage, oh no. She wondered for perhaps the thousandth time if anyone would ever see her as anything more than a potential wife.

She sighed. Queen Rhaella had mentioned something about her visiting home soon, but she doubted it would happen. Winterfell was simply too far away. Lyanna’s last letter had included a message from Brandon, describing to her in great detail how green the Wolfswood was at the moment, and how wonderful the hunting and hawking was, how easily he was finding quarries. Bastard. She missed him so much it was a physical ache.

She glanced up at Cersei suddenly. She had arrived at King’s Landing whilst Y/n was away at Storm’s End for the funeral. It had been almost a year since then. She wondered if Cersei ever missed Jaime. Surely she must? They were twins as well.

Y/n doubted it, however. Cersei’s father, lord Tywin Lannister, looked nothing like her. She was beautiful, truly, everyone said so. He was cold and mean and his hair was starting to recede. There was one thing they had in common, however, and that was their eyes. Brilliant emerald eyes under golden hair. And both lord Tywin and his daughter’s eyes were as hard and cold as actual emeralds.

She had disliked lord Tywin since the first day she had seen him, and would have even without her father’s warning to be careful around him. She had never seen him smile, not once. Stannis did not smile often either, but his eyes always gave him away. Lord Tywin was cold stone, through and through.

Cersei was something else entirely.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

~~~~~~~~~~<~~<~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~<~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Stannis coughed again. Then sneezed.

“My lord- “ Maester Cressen’s long suffering voice came from across the table. Stannis stubbornly refused to look up at him or stop working.

“Cressen if you tell me once more that I need to rest, I will have you hung from the parapets,” he snapped. “I’m perfectly healthy.”

His statement was rather rudely undercut by a sneeze.

Betrayed by my own damn body, he thought scathingly. Of course he would get sick. Of course the one day he had had to inspect the fleet, a storm would roll in over the bay.

His head had been aching the whole morning, in fact his whole body was aching, and the cloak around his shoulders was as much to hold off his chills as for neatness.

But there were things to do, and despite Cressen’s incessant mothering, he would not go to bed before he had to.

“My lord,” the Maester started again, tentatively, “Lady Stark will arrive on the morrow. Surely you would not meet her in poor health?”

Stannis clenched his jaw.

The queen is allowing me to visit again. I would ask if you would like me to, but we both know you do. I wil arrive in a week’s time.

He hesitated. Y/n would want to be busy the whole time. Hawking, riding, walking. He could not dissapoint her, it would never do for him to be a bad host.

“Perhaps...” he said slowly. “Perhaps it would not be fair of me to deprive her of a host if I am... if I am out of sorts.”

He bristled when Maester Cressen had to hide a smile. The man had never been good at being discreet.

“Yet there is still a lot of work to do- “ he started, and noted with some satisfaction that the smile vanished.

“I will see to it, my lord, if you would but rest.”

Stannis sniffed, but reluctantly stood up and left for his rooms. Sleep for a while, and on the morrow he would be perfectly capable of being a good host.

He savagely pushed down the familiar nervousness that crowded his chest at the thought of her coming as he got ready for bed, his body aching as he lay down. By now he should be used to her presence, it had been years since anyone else had made him nervous.

Vaguely, he heard Renly yelling something in the hallway outside his rooms, but his eyelids were heavy and he fell asleep quickly.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Vermithor reared dramatically in the courtyard of Storm’s End, making Y/n laugh even as she had to clutch at the saddle to stay seated.

She jumped off of his back and he wickered happily at the stablemaster who came forward to take him. It was raining lightly and had been for the past hour. Y/n was soaked through.

“Lady Stark,” the man said as Vermithor nuzzled him. “We were under the impression you would be arriving tomorrow.”

“I wanted it to be a surprise,” she said sweetly to him, “since my presence is such a gift.”

She nodded to Donal Noye as she passed him at the armoury, and he favoured her with a crooked smile and a salute.

She had not been inside for a second before something careened hard into the bottom of her legs.

“You back! You back!” Renly yelled, laughing as he held on to her legs. She laughed too, and reached down to pick him up into a hug. Immediately he clambered up onto her shoulders, holding on to her neck like a monkey, surprisingly spry for a two-year-old. He wore a little parchment crown that she had no doubt Maester Cressen had made for him.

“I haven’t seen you in ages!” He said.

“I was just here a few months past, little Renly,” she said. He held on tighter. Only when he had situated to his taste did she turn to the older man who had accompanied him.

“Lady Stark,” Maester Cressen said, bowing slightly. He smiled his fatherly smile at her that so infuriated Stannis.

“Maester,” she said, smiling. “I would curtsy but I fear little Renly would be dislodged.”

Renly laughed again, the infectious laughter of all children.

“The letter you sent informed us you would only be arriving on the morrow, my lady,” the maester said.

“I know,” she smiled, “It was supposed to be a surprise.”

She looked around, suddenly realising Stannis was absent.

Cressen answered her question before she could ask.

“My lord has come down with a cold,” he said, “and is resting.”

She gaped at him.

“You got him into bed?” She asked, amazed.

“On threat of being a bad host, my lady, yes.”

Gently she reached up and dislodged Renly from his seat on her shoulders, ignoring his cries of protest.

“He must be near death, then,” she said as she set him down on the ground. “Can I see him?”

“Of course, my lady. And I doubt it would be much trouble if I were to task you with keeping him in bed?”

She grinned.

“None at all.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Renly insisted on staying with her, and on threat of being dragged out by his ear, also promised to stay quiet so his brother could sleep.

He fell asleep after a while, and she obligingly carried him to his own rooms before returning to Stannis.

On the way back, she ran into Robert.

“Y/n?” He asked, obviously taken aback.

“Robert,” she nodded to him. She was supposed to curtsy, but she just could not stomach it.

“I didn’t know you were coming.”

Robert had grown since she’d last seen him. He towered over her now, though he’d always been taller, his shoulders had filled out and the beginnings of a scruffy blue-black beard was on his cheeks.

“I didn’t know you were here.”

He cleared his throat.

“Well,” he said, grinning, “I do live here.”

She fought to keep a smile from her face, though she knew her dimple was giving her away. Damn him. She wanted to be angry at him, for leaving his brother, but he was so damn friendly.

It drove Stannis mad, she knew. A memory surfaced from years ago, on one of her first visits to Storm’s End, of Robert shoving her a tiny but too roughly, resulting in a fall, a seething Stannis dragging her away by the hand, his knuckles bruised, Robert holding the side of his face and cursing. It had been the first time she’d ever seen Stannis stand up to Robert.

She shook her head.

“I have to go,” she said, rather awkwardly. “Stannis is sick.”

“Yes,” Robert said, “I heard.”

They both nodded at each other again, and she walked past him and into Stannis’ rooms.

He looked different when he was asleep, she realised as she sat down next to his bed. The almost permanent frown since his parents’ death left his face, and he seemed to calm. He looked almost handsome like this.

She frowned at the thought, then pushed it down.

She reached forward and brushed the hair from his forehead, and made sure the blanket was tight around his shoulders before settling back in her chair to read.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Stannis woke to a dark room. His head felt like it was stuffed with cotton, and he had to supress a surge of irritation at himself when he realised he must have slept most of the day away.

“Good morning, lord Stannis.”

He sat bolt upright at the sound of her voice. Then immediately he blushed and drew the blankets up around his torso.

Y/n sat curled up on a large armchair next to his bed, a book open in her lap. The only light in the room came from the candle she was reading by.

“You were not supposed to be here until tomorrow,” he snapped at her, his headache slowly coming back. He was so flustered at her presence next to his bed he did not even think to be happy. He was shirtless, for the gods’ sake, had she no shame?

It nettled him even more when she merely smiled. The dimple in her left cheek showed deeply.

“It was supposed to be a surprise, and would have been a good one if you’d had the decency to stay healthy,” she said. Then, more softly, “Go back to sleep, Maester Cressen says you need rest.”

“What are you doing sitting next to my bed?” He asked instead. “And do not presume to tell me what to do.”

“I was told to keep you from getting up,” she smiled wider this time, and he suppressed the urge to smile along.

He grumbled, but despite his annoyance at both of them, he really was quite tired.

“Rest, Stannis,” she said again, more insistant this time.

Grudgingly he lay back.

“I’m perfectly capable of looking after myself, you know,” he said to her. She lifted her eyes from the pages, and they twinkled slightly in the half light. She was not laughing outright at him, but those eyes told him something different.

“Of course,” she said, and turned back to her book, amusement radiating from her like heat from a fire.

His head ached even worse when he ground his teeth together.

“What are you reading?” He asked in an effort to get her to stop treating him like a child.

Immediately her eyes lit up with excitement, and a fit of coughing took him as he lay back.

“It’s a new account,” she said when he had finished, and he could tell she was barely keeping her enthusiasm in check, “All about Sothoryos and the monsters that live there. Most of it is embellishment and fancy, but the author really did travel there.”

Her eyes travelled up to the wall above his head, and he knew she was seeing the free cities there, and all the wild lands to the east of them.

“The adventurer has to resque his true love from an evil sorcerer, who can control chimeras and wyverns,” she stopped, and looked at him suddenly. “I could read to you, if you’d like?”

He hesitated. He’d never liked the same type of stories she did. The heroes always reminded him too much of Robert, and the princesses were vapid and shallow, without a lick of sense in them.

But her voice soothed him, and despite his embarassment at the thought, and the fact that he would never tell another living soul, he liked having her close, he liked listening to her speak. She always put on different accents and voices for the characters in books when she read aloud.

He nodded stiffly, and the smile he recieved in return made him all but forget his headache.

[morizoras-cave]

Sleepover (Collab with @lozzypoz321)

Sebastian Stan x f!teen!co-star!reader, MCU Cast x f!teen!co-star!reader

Genre: fluff, crack honestly

Description: You and the MCU cast have a secret sleepover on set.

Warnings: language!!

A/N by morizoras-cave: this was even more fun than the last fic, loz is so so funny and so so talented and i just feel so comfortable writing with her :) also so many… bad things… happened while we wrote this. I mean it was chaotic.. I hope you enjoy its LONG

A/N by @lozzypoz321​: this was so much fun to write and I loved it!! Honestly you do not want to know what happened behind th scenes because that was a m e s s. Vic is suck and amazing writer and deserves so much love! Hope you enjoy!!

“Kid, open the door!” your head snapped to the door of your hotel room. You recognised Sebastian’s voice coming from outside. “Open up!”

“I’m coming” you yelled, padding over to the door and opening up. Sebastian and Anthony stood out there. They looked oddly child-like as they stood there with their sleeping bags and dressed in pjs. You snorted. “Well, hello to you too!” 

“Don’t laugh, N/n, this is serious.” Anthony said as you walked out, you also dressed in your marvel pjs and with a sleeping bag in hand. Although, you thought, it was hard to take him seriously when he was dressed in Winnie The Pooh slippers. 

“Whatever you say, man.”

The entirety of the marvel cast had planned a sleepover on set. It was very secret, apparently. You didn’t know the full story, but they had seemingly asked the directors if they could have an onset sleepover and they’d refused, so someone had to steal a key. It was a whole process, but nonetheless you found yourself on the way to set at around 10:30. 

“Is anyone bringing snacks?” you asked. You, Seb and Anthony were walking down the street. You could see the set already. “Damn, I hope so” Anthony mumbled and you all continued walking. 

When you got there Elizabeth was standing outside, holding the door open with what you assumed was the stolen key. She ushered you inside. “You’re late and for some reason I’m not surprised.”

Inside all the others were already waiting, the entirety of the cast. Notably, you could see that Robert, Scarlett and Mark had created a pillow fort, and were hiding out in the coziness with a bag of popcorn. 

“Welcome, late-comers!” Robert greeted you dramatically, standing up in his Iron Man onesie. “You’ve missed the pizzas. You know, because you’re late!” 

“It’s fine, we already ate. Which is why we’re late,” Sebastian pointed nodded to Anthony. You nodded along.

Everyone sat down on a large stretch of couches, blankets and pillows, where Elizabeth had placed a projector pointed to an empty wall of the set. You sat down with Tom (Hiddleston), Sebastian and Mark. It was a rather weird thing to see so many grown men and women (that you had previously had respect for) in their most colourful pjs, but you supposed it was on you to expect any differently from this cast of people. 

Chris (Evans) had picked a movie and, unsurprisingly, he picked Iron Man 1. Robert protested for about two seconds, before he let everyone shower him in compliments because that movie was so damn good. “Okay okay, I guess we can watch it if we really have to”

Scarlett lightly laughed and pressed a button on the projector to start the movie after placing the disk inside that Chris (Evans) had brought from his collection at his house. “Where’s the snacks?” You heard Chris (Hemsworth) loudly whisper to Scarlett who sat next to him. 

“Ooh do we have popcorn?” You quietly asked Sebastian who nodded and reached across Anthony who was laid next to him to retrieve the salted popcorn that Mark had gotten just for you as he was in charge of the snack committee. Chris (Evans) silently got up, after making sure nobody noticed him (except from you), and crawled across the room in his rapunzel pjs on his hands and knees to reach Robert who was now on the verge of unconsciousness with dribble falling from the side of his mouth. Trying to be discreet, he raised his hands scarily behind him, gaining everybody’s attention in the room except Robert, and suddenly pounced on him in a playful manner. 

The man leapt up without warning with wide eyes the size of dinner plates and held his hands up as if he was doing karate in a mode of self defence. Everybody in the room burst out laughing at his reaction, Chris (Evans) reaching for his left pec as he leant back on his knees in a full on belly laugh. “You looked like you were a 6 year old girl” Scarlett laughed out and shook her head towards the man, who was now grumbling as he sat back down on his spot with an abundance of blankets by his side. 

“All the snacks are gone” Anthony exclaimed to the cast, making Tom (Hiddleston) look up from the screen and ponder “well we could do something that doesn’t require food” he suggested, making everyone look at him to continue. 

“I mean, we could play hide and seek?”

“Oh!” You exclaimed excitedly, one of your first inputs of the night “I’d love to play hide and seek! My dad used to do it with me all the time!”

Your happy demeanour made them all smile as you began explaining how he would hide next to you while your brother tried to find both of you. “Well it’s settled then, we’re playing hide and seek!” Chris (Hemsworth) announced in his Australian accent, before you could be told twice, you jumped up and grabbed Sebastian's hand before racing out of the room, not even giving anybody a second glance. 

“Woah, where are we going?” Sebastian chuckled, following your rapid footsteps. “Don’t worry about this, Seb, I’ve the perfect hiding spot!” It was a little bit embarrassing to admit, but every time you entered a new place, you thought about the best hiding spots (in case of an unwarranted game of hide and seek). 

You pulled Sebastian into the costume room and shuffled awkwardly into the back. There, you found your masterful hiding place. It was a vent, but not a small one. It was big. Sebastian looked at you in surprise. “Not bad, Y/n.” 

You popped the cover right off, catching Sebastian off guard. “I unscrewed it back in February,” you explained and jumped inside. Sebastian seemed to want to question you further, but instead just shrugged to himself and followed you inside, closing the vent cover behind him.

“This really is the perfect place,” he mumbled, voice echoing slightly in the vents. It was pretty cold, but stable. “And hey, didn’t you say that your dad used to hide with you?” He asked while looking around the airy place. “Oh, um, yeah” you said sheepishly, just now remembering the moment in the other room. 

“Um- I-I mean, not that you’re my- Like, my dad-” you stammered, blushing at the awkward moment, “Like- My dad is my dad- You’re just- I’m sorry- I didn’t mean to make this awkward, I just-”

“Shut up!” Sebastian hissed suddenly. You looked at him, taken aback. He was staring out the vent covers, and then looked back at you with a grin. He pointed to it silently. Your brows furrowed, and you looked out. You saw Chris in the room, hand holding a flashlight while aiming it around the room, trying to find a sign of anybody. You held your breath. 

“I know you’re in here! I can smell your fear!” he yelled trying to act scary. Meanwhile, he just looked kind of goofy in his Disney princess pjs. You saw Sebastian beside you, trying not to laugh. His face was contorted into a forced frown, but a smile still crept up the corners of his mouth. Seeing his face, you started feeling the urge to laugh too. 

You both laughed silently, trying so hard to not give away your position to Chris. You were failing miserably. 

“I will find you!” Chris said again, and this time Sebastian let out a laugh, immediately clamping a hand over his mouth. His eyes widened and so did yours. Chris stopped moving, snapping his head around furiously. “Who was that? Where are you?” 

You saw the moment Sebastian decided to give up on hiding, as he just suddenly started laughing like a maniac. You did too, both of you clutching your stomachs. Chris scoffed and tore the vent cover off, revealing the two of you laughing uncontrollably. 

“Come on, guys, it wasn’t that funny!” Chris sighed, but he was wrong, it was definitely that funny. You guys went back to the movie room. Robert, Tom, Scarlett and Anthony had all already been found.

“Welcome to the losers!” Tom grumbled. You both sat down with him and chatted while waiting for the others to turn up. The next was Mark, who had been hiding under a table, and then Elizabeth who wasn’t even trying, but was somehow second last anyway. 

Then came the waiting game. Hemsworth, the biggest of you all, the goofiest, and seemingly the easiest to spot, was still at large. Chris was hopelessly searching, but came back every ten minutes with a more and more depressed look on his attractive face.

“I can’t find him!” he admitted finally. There was a collective sigh, and then everyone started searching together, simultaneously calling out “Chris! The aussie one!” Eventually you did find him, crammed behind a couch uncomfortably. 

When you finally did, Anthony (as well as several others) seemed to have only grown hungrier, and the need for snacks was larger than ever. “I swear to god if we don’t find food right now I may just quit the job” Anthony swore and huffed as he crossed both his arms over his chest. “That seems a bit dramatic but okay” Scarlett laughed as the ten of you rounded a corner in the building to only come face to face with an abundance of vending machines that everyone used at break and you all had seemingly forgotten about. “Woah�� Tom said, impressed at the arrangement. 

“Food galore,” Elizabeth expressed and was the first one to walk towards, closer to the arrangement, leaving the rest of you by the wall with your jaws dropped. “If I’m sick, don’t blame it on me” you quietly expressed, making Mark laugh from his spot next to you. 

Trying not to seem too excited, Anthony ran forward, eyes following each and every item of edible food and drink. “I think you better hurry up” Tom commented from his spot the furthest from you, noticing the way Anthony and Chris were now eyeing your favourite type of chips. 

“Umm yeah, that sounds like a good idea”

You, Robert and Sebastian immediately went over to the vending machine that was holding doritos, lays, and other classic chips. “Um, about earlier,” you mumbled to the Romanian man as Robert began to shake the machine with force, hoping something would fall down “I didn’t mean it like that” your cheeks flooded with embarrassment as the memory came flashing back to you.

But before you could start apologising even more, he stopped you and sent a reassuring smile your way “don’t worry about it Y/N, I know what you meant.” He gave your shoulder a small squeeze, before going back to watching Robert yelling at the Doritos to “fall out, you big pussy!”

Before Chris (Evans) and Tom could come over to your side of the room to be responsible adults and make a rational decision, Chris (Hemsworth) had already come bounding over to you and kicked the glass where the chips were held behind. He put full force behind the kick, so it shattered and fell loudly with a crash to the ground. 

“Erm. Good idea?”

For no reason at all the situation was just funny to you, so while everyone in the room was stood still shocked (apart from Hemsworth who rocked back and forth on his feet sheepishly) you began to laugh. “What’s funny? You could literally cut your feet if you move!” Tom exclaimed with wide eyes, “you can’t get hurt we need to return you to your mom the same as we got you!”

Without warning Chris (Evans) ran over to you, making sure to carefully avoid the glass panes. “I’m not getting sued for this shit” he muttered as he picked you up and brought you over to a corner, which was a safe distance away from the wreckage.

“Alright, this has gotten out of hand,” Mark ran a hand through his hair, as he surveyed the broken glass on the floor in distress. Elizabeth nodded. You made eye contact with Scarlett and Anthony, who very clearly didn’t share the same concern that Mark and Elizabeth did. You all giggled quietly. 

“But uh, let’s take advantage of the situation, eh?” Chris (Hemsworth) pulled a couple bags of doritos out of the broken vending machine, “Free doritos?” He shook the bags playfully. There was a moment where people seemed to question whether they prioritized their dignity of the free doritos, and it’s fair to say that a large number of them chose the doritos. 

You all went back to the movie room, collapsing on your mattresses and blankets, with your snacks. But before any of you could begin to focus on the movie once again, a sudden gasp broke out from across the room. “He has the last bag of Doritos!”

“No I don’t” Hemsworth was quick to deny Elizabeth’s claim but everyone could see the full bag that he had attempted to stuff under his blanket. All of a sudden, Scarlett leapt out of her sleeping bag, trying to reach the chips before he did, but unfortunately all the gym workouts he had been going to (or yoga lessons you weren’t really sure) were paying off, as he held the woman at bay so he could grab the snack and hold it far out of her reach.

“Give it” she grunted and tried to reach past his grip and take the chips for herself, but before she had a chance, Chris (Evans) jumped up from his spot over by Tom and snatched the bag from him, holding a victorious grin on his face. Chris (Hemsworth) pouted angrily at his costar, not bothering to fight back as he knew it would be a losing battle (he was captain America for Christ’s sake). But you had a trick up your sleeve, you wanted those chips and you were going to get them whether it was the last thing you did.

Picking up the pillow beside you, you held it up as a shield as ran forward as fast as you could, taking in the confused expression Chris held in his face before you smashed into his stomach, knocking the air out of your lungs but unfortunately, not his.

He chuckled deeply as you smashed back into the wooden floors groaning as the pain surged through you. “I don’t think that worked as well as you thought it would” Mark commented from his comfortable spot on his mattress. 

“No, it really didn’t”

The movie ended, and slowly but surely people started going to bed. There were yawns and stretches around you all bundled together on the floor. You too found yourself growing tired, stuffing yourself into your sleeping bag and getting comfortable. 

“Goodnight!” you murmured and those who were awake mumbled it back drowsily. You distinctly heard Sebastian mutter back to you from his sleeping bag “shut up, I’m tired”. You chuckled for the last time that night, as soon sleep overcame you. 

Then, at the the buttcrack of dawn, a scream came from the nearest entrance: “WHAT IN THE ACTUAL FUCK-” 

And that was the inspiring story of how body searches became a daily routine on set, so the Russos could make sure no one had gotten their grubby hands on an extra key.

___________________________

Tag List:

@hera-the-writer @marvel-madness @40srogcrs @whatthefuckimbisexual @snarky–starky @garbage-potato @lozzypoz321 @allthecreativeonesaretaken @missamericana713 @rororo06 @shady80smusicsingercolor @ireadfanficforfun @deephideoutmilkshake @rae-is-typing @sophs-library @herecomesthewriterwitch @alicedanganh @eviemarvel @idk123906 @tamayakii​

[salemwritesxx]

lycoris radiata

↳ pro-hero bakugou x pro-hero reader

summary: The myth around red spider lilies, lycoris radiata, is that, when you see someone you may never meet again, these flowers will bloom along the path. Thus, when Y/n and Katsuki depart on the morning of their 6th wedding anniversary to walk to their respective agencies and spider lilies bloom along the path Bakugou is walking on, Y/n gets an uneasy feeling, unaware that the legend surrounding these flowers may have a germ of truth to them after all.

w.count: 2k

content warning: angst, major character death, which leads to reader committing suicide, afterlife happy ending

“Okay, hey-“, you grinned and pulled him back one last time to peck his lips, “-don’t forget our rendezvous tonight, yeah?”, to which Bakugou only rolled his eyes – in a playful way though as he immediately pressed a soft kiss onto your mouth once more, not caring that you two stood in the middle of the streets.

“Don’t worry, I won’t forget.”, and with that, you finally let your husband go, though as he walked away from you, you couldn’t help but witness red spider lilies blooming along the pathway, hence you yelled after him, “Babe? Be careful, okay?”

“Ha?”, when he turned around and you pointed to the flowers, Katsuki only laughed and gestured a ‘whatever’ and saying a “Don’t be so superstitious, Y/n. It’s just a myth!”

Even though you both chuckled as he turned around and walked away for real this time, you still felt a slight uneasy feeling in your stomach, though you simply thought it was because you were excited to celebrate your 6th wedding anniversary with your husband.

--

“KATSUKI!”

You screamed as if you were the one being impaled, your knees were shaking, feeling like the ground was opening up underneath your feet and you fell into a dark, black hole any second.

Coughing up blood, he was hanging on the villain’s arm which was weirdly transformed to look like a lance – Bakugou hadn’t seen it coming, if he would have, he…

“Pathetic.”, the villain almost spit into his face before dropping him onto the pavement like some sort of trash, only to jump back immediately when other heroes already attacked him again.

You were rushing to your husband’s side who was coughing up more and more blood while squirming in pain, his “Y- Y/- Y/n…” being interrupted by his coughs, though you were already dropping to your knees to hold him.

“It’s okay, Baby, I’m here. Everything’s gonna be okay! Don’t worry, everything will be okay!”, you cried and sobbed, tears already streaming down your face while pressing him against your side and one hand against his wound where the villain impaled him.

Bakugou knew though. It’s why he was clawing at your hand so much, both of them soaked with his blood that just wouldn’t stop – he knew he wasn’t going to be okay. As he almost couldn’t speak anymore, because his lungs filled with more and more blood, he still grasped your hands as tightly as he could, smearing his own blood all over your arm in an attempt to stay.

“Y/n-“, gasping for breath, he was almost completely over the bridge as his tight grip slowly softened.

“I love you, Baby. I love you so much! Katsuki please, don’t go!”, not being able to suppress your desperate sobs, you barely choked out a “Please.” again as his grip loosened more and more around your own hand.

“I … love… y..o…u…”, were his last words, a single tear trickling down his cheek as his ruby eyes lost that sparkle you fell in love with the very first time you looked into them.  

“Katsu… No….Kat… Nononono please! PLEASE!”, literally begging him to not go, you hugged his bloody, heavy body so close against your chest while you cried, not caring about the explosions from further back into the streets as other heroes still fought against the villains, while rescue heroes only gradually managed to get through the wrecked buildings.

You shouldn’t even be here. Bakugou and you had been in two different agencies, it only should have been a calm day at your respective work places, wanting to be done quickly so you could enjoy your wedding anniversary tonight, but then, all available heroes were called up when the villain went on a rampage.

How…? How did it turn out like that? A harmless villain turned out to be so strong? How… could have anyone guess that? How could have anyone seen that coming?

So, it was true. Walking along a path where red spider lilies bloomed meant you wouldn’t see each other again…

Rescue heroes tried to calm you down and get you to let go of Katsuki’s lifeless body, but you just yelled at them, your voice high-pitched and so full of pain, and cried and held him tighter, not caring that you were full of his blood as you still couldn’t process that this wasn’t a dream, but it was reality… Harsh reality.

Your husband was dead.

And with that, your soul and heart shattered into million little pieces, unable to be whole ever again.

-------6 weeks later--------

You sat in front of Katsuki’s grave.

It was a cold spring night, though to be honest, you hadn’t been warm in the last weeks ever since that accident – the coldness you felt was never going to leave ever again.

Your fingers were softly playing your guitar. Making music had always brought peace to your husband’s mind, whenever he felt angry, frustrated, anxious or any other negative feeling, he would flop beside you and make you play the guitar for him. It calmed him and sometimes, you would both sing crookedly to get him back into a better mood – very fond memories indeed.

Tears were blurring your vision, even though you shouldn’t have been able to cry anymore with how many tears you had shed in the last weeks, but it still felt surreal. Knowing he was never going to come back again – never.

Slowly, your fingers stopped as you stared onto his gravestone. There were red spider lilies planted around – how ironic. Though they weren’t blooming as it was now spring.

Was is really just superstition? Or should you have been warned that day? That uneasy feeling you had felt - it wasn’t excitement, it was a sense of foreboding, and you had ignored it…

Putting your guitar, that had stickers with his hero name and your own, as well as stupid little things like a dick doodle on it, to the side, you sighed and rubbed your red, swollen eyes. You did have this guitar since your middle school days after all. And you remembered when all these things happened oh so vividly. Still hearing the giggle and laughter of your, back then in high school, boyfriend, while you yelled at him for being an idiot. Being angry over a dick doodle seemed so petty now.

Taking your permanent marker, you opened the cap with your teeth, before leaning in and doodling a broken heart onto the surface with the date of your husband’s dying day on it. Spitting out the lid of the marker, you put the pen onto your guitar, before staring back at Bakugou’s grave.

“Please tell me.. Who should be my soulmate now? Who will hold my hand while I drive? Who will hold me when I can’t sleep at night? There is nobody like you out there, Baby…. so please tell me…”, you were crying again as you sobbed and rubbed over your face, “Tell me, who could possibly take your place? My first and last love. I won’t be able to do anything without you…”

Your heart was hurting so much, you couldn’t take it. You knew he was irreplaceable, there was no one out there that could ever give you what he gave you all those past years.

Bakugou was sitting beside you, though you didn’t know – of course you didn’t, was he a mere spirit now, never leaving your side as his translucent hand touched your own.

“Please, you need to go on. Don’t do it…”, tears were in the corner of his eyes, wishing he could talk to you, wishing you could hear his desperate attempts to keep you from committing suicide. Katsuki loved you, he wanted to be with you, but he couldn’t be selfish anymore – you couldn’t throw everything away just because of him.

Though, as he was a mere ghost sitting beside you, he couldn’t do anything but watch.

With a shaking hand you then reached for the gun you had purchased today on the black market – to think, at last, you were doing illegal stuff even though you were a hero – before coming here and sitting in front of his grave for hours. You couldn’t possibly be alive without him beside you. It just hurt too much. You didn’t care about anything, you had no one besides him. Katsuki was your everything and all you wanted to do was finally meet him again.

Sobbing quietly, you then held the end of the gun against your temple, your e/c still staring at his gravestone, before you whispered one last time, “I want to meet you again. Please. I miss you so much.”

“I promise, I’ll be there.”, Katsuki whispered.

For the first time in weeks, there was warmth surrounding your heart and with a smile you barely mumbled “I know you’re waiting for me.”

And then, a loud bang echoed through the silent night and the cemetery, cherry blossom petals, that were in full bloom now, swaying in the wind and slowly falling down and onto your lifeless body.

-

“Y/n…Y/n…”, the familiar voice made you gradually open your eyes – above you, it was an ocean of pink and white cherry blossoms. But then, as you looked further back, you saw directly into Katsuki’s face, his smile making you feel so warm and fuzzy instantly. It was in that moment you realized your head was resting in his lap.

“Katsu…”

“You should have lived a long, happy life…”, his voice was so soothing and calm as he combed through your hair, though you just shook your head, tears already welling up in your eyes.

“I was already dead inside the moment you were gone.”, and then, you finally sat back up to connect your lips, Bakugou immediately slinging his arms around your neck and pulling you in closer as you both fell back into a pile of cherry blossoms.

“I love you. I love you so much. And now we’re together again.”, you whispered against his lips, lacing your fingers together and Katsuki squeezing your hand tightly, the sparkle in his ruby eyes back as tears shimmered in them as well.

“And we will never be apart again.”, he barely mumbled back, before you hugged each other tightly as your lips melted together tenderly.

--

Katsuki and you were sitting on the gravestone together, it was the day your lifeless body joined Katsuki’s in the shared grave. Watching your family and Katsuki’s once more crying so much, it really did break your heart.

“I wish they wouldn’t have to go through that again.”, he said and sighed, though also squeezing your hand tightly.

“Mh… But it was inevitable… I know they know that, too…”, since you and Mitsuki were quite close, she, of course, knew how badly Katsuki’s death affected you, even though she tried to help, the moment you were alone, you knew you couldn’t take the loss of someone so precious to you.

“Y/n… I know your pain was immense… I just hope you are both happy now wherever you are…”, Mitsuki quietly cried as she stood in front of the grave with your coffin in it, joining Katsuki’s, Masaru holding her close by his side, both of them a red spider lily in their hands that weren’t blooming.

Looking at each other for a moment, you both stood up from the gravestone and walked towards his parents, softly touching the flower, making them bloom in their hands.

“Let’s go. We are free now. Let’s see the world - together.”, Bakugou smiled and you chuckled and nodded, “Yeah.”, only to pull him closer and softly kiss him and whisper, “Together forever.”, which earned you Katsuki’s soft giggle and him pulling you closer to connect your lips once more.

Mitsuki and Masaru were both completely astonished when the red spider lilies in their hands started blooming, as if it was your answer to their question if you were both happy now, making Katsuki’s Mom smile and cry a little harder.

Though, once she looked ahead, she thought it was probably because she was sleep-deprived and in so much emotional pain, but… she saw you and Katsuki holding onto and smiling at each other. His mind must be playing tricks on her and yet, it was bittersweet to witness you two like that…

“They are happy…”, she wiped away her tears and with a smile on her lips, Mitsuki threw the blooming spider lilies into the grave eventually, knowing that her son and son-in-law were now happily dancing in the cherry blossom trees.

@salemwritesxx || do not repost, edit, modify or translate my works

writer’s note: ya boy literally chickened out the last minute and made it a somewhat happy ending instead of leaving it sad… idk i kind of just want them to find their happiness again in their afterlives 💌 my first idea was to make Y/n sing his heart out on like a roof and then jump, then I wanted him to sing his heart out in front of katsu’s grave and in the end, we just have some soft guitar play and a gun… but while I listen to the song I had playing on repeat while writing this, I still imagine Y/n singing loudly for his Baby and grieving terribly 💔

[badjokesbyjeff]

A woma‌‌n stoppe‌‌d by‌‌, unannounced‌‌, a‌‌t he‌‌r son'‌‌s house‌‌. Sh‌‌e knocke‌‌d o‌‌n th‌‌e doo‌‌r the‌‌n immediatel‌‌y walke‌‌d in.

Sh‌‌e wa‌‌s shocke‌‌d t‌‌o se‌‌e he‌‌r daughter-in-la‌‌w lyin‌‌g o‌‌n th‌‌e couch‌‌, totall‌‌y naked‌‌. Sof‌‌t musi‌‌c wa‌‌s playing‌‌, an‌‌d th‌‌e arom‌‌a o‌‌f perfum‌‌e fille‌‌d th‌‌e room‌‌. "Wha‌‌t ar‌‌e yo‌‌u doing?!‌‌", sh‌‌e asked.

"I'‌‌m waitin‌‌g fo‌‌r Mik‌‌e t‌‌o com‌‌e hom‌‌e fro‌‌m work", th‌‌e daughter-in‌‌-la‌‌w answered.

"Bu‌‌t you'r‌‌e naked!‌‌" th‌‌e mother-in-la‌‌w exclaimed.

"Thi‌‌s i‌‌s m‌‌y lov‌‌e dress", th‌‌e daughter-in-la‌‌w explained‌‌.

"Lov‌‌e dress‌‌? Bu‌‌t you'r‌‌e naked!"

"Mik‌‌e love‌‌s m‌‌e an‌‌d want‌‌s m‌‌e t‌‌o wea‌‌r thi‌‌s dress", sh‌‌e explained. ‌‌"I‌‌t excite‌‌s hi‌‌m t‌‌o n‌‌o end‌‌. Ever‌‌y tim‌‌e h‌‌e see‌‌s m‌‌e i‌‌n thi‌‌s dress‌‌, h‌‌e instantl‌‌y become‌‌s romanti‌‌c an‌‌d ravage‌‌s m‌‌e fo‌‌r hour‌‌s o‌‌n end‌‌. H‌‌e can'‌‌t ge‌‌t enoug‌‌h o‌‌f me".

Th‌‌e mother-in-la‌‌w left‌‌. Whe‌‌n sh‌‌e go‌‌t home‌‌, sh‌‌e undressed‌‌, showered‌‌, pu‌‌t o‌‌n he‌‌r bes‌‌t perfume‌‌, dimme‌‌d th‌‌e lights‌‌, pu‌‌t o‌‌n ‌‌a romanti‌‌c CD‌‌, an‌‌d la‌‌y o‌‌n th‌‌e couch‌‌, waitin‌‌g fo‌‌r he‌‌r husban‌‌d t‌‌o arrive.

Finally‌‌, he‌‌r husban‌‌d cam‌‌e home‌‌. H‌‌e walke‌‌d i‌‌n an‌‌d sa‌‌w he‌‌r lyin‌‌g ther‌‌e s‌‌o provocatively.

"Wha‌‌t ar‌‌e yo‌‌u doing?‌‌" h‌‌e asked.

"Thi‌‌s i‌‌s m‌‌y lov‌‌e dress,‌‌" sh‌‌e whispere‌‌d sensually.

"Need‌‌s ironing"...

[ironasss]

NO WAY HOME SPOILERS

Saw no way home on the 23rd, sent my friend this email:

AHHHHHH OH MY GOD I JUST SAW SPIDER-MAN HOLY MOTHER*language*ING *language* OH MY GOD LIKE I KNEW TOBEY AND ANDREW WERE IN IT BUT OH MY GOD I THOUGHT IT WOULD BE LIKE A CAMEO(which is interesting, because i thought Charlie Cox would have a bigger role) AND I KNEW EITHER AUNT MAY OR HAPPY WOULD DIE BUT WHYYYYYYY????????? LITERALLY AS SOON AS SHE SAID "with great power there must also come a great responsibility" I KNEW IT WAS HER JESUS JAMIE FOXX OH MY GOD HIS HAIR OK BUT VENOM????? See, would this have been explained if I had watched Venom: Let There be Carnage? GET h*ward STARK'S MOTHER*language*ING FACE OF THAT MIT WALL WTF PUT TONY ON THERE NO ONE KILLS ABOUT JOHN SLATTERY Is marvel just like, really reaaaaallllllyyyyyyyyy team cap? because, a) like all of team Iron Man is dead(except Peter, but hey, he doesn't exist!) b) the statue of liberty has a shield. why. GIVE IT A WIDOW BITE OR AN ARC REACTOR Also: DUM-E? I also knew he was in it but GAH IT WAS SO SAD And then at the end, oh my god, at the cemetery, I GUESS SPIDER-MAN ISN'T COMPLETE WITHOUT AT LEAST TWO FUNERALS HUH EXCEPT NOT A FUNERAL, BECAUSE NO ONE KNOWS Happy. Why. LOOK MAN I KNOW YOU WERE FRIENDS WITH TONY STARK. b ut d i d yo u h a ve t o ru b h i s de a th i n m y fa c e l i ke th a t I had a close friend die recently. this feels like that. OR WHATEVER IT IS HE SAID, IDC IT WAS SAD And ok, hold on. You know that set photo, Andrew Garfield said was photoshopped? Ima be honest, I thought it was. I had full confidence he was in it, but liKE I SAID I THOUGHT IT WAS A CAMEO But then, I saw the exact moment that was, and i SWEAR I COULD JUST SEE THE PURPLE SCREEN BEHIND HIM OH MY GOD And the movie theater we went to *language*ing SUCKED like you know how usually they play something related to the movie, cast interviews, moments with the character(s) in past movies if they're a returning character, a comics history if they're new? (like there was comics history when I saw Shang Chi and the Legend of the Ten Rings(2021) and Eternals(2021), and a feature thing with Nataliahashalie's past movies before Black Widow(2021), and all of them had cast interviews.) Question: why do people deny Agents of SHIELD being canon, when Maria Hill exists? (like obviously Coulson exists, but people are like: hE's sTIlL dEaD! aGeNTs oF ShiElD iSn'T rEaL!) OK BUT A MILLION YEARS ON INSTAGRAM I SAW THIS POST, AND I DONT REMEMBER IF IT WAS ORIGINALLY INSTAGRAM OR ORIGINALLY TUMBLR OR TWITTER BUT Someone was like, what if when MJ falls, Andrew Garfield Spider-Man catches her? AND THEN HE DID JHEJDGEWUIDG:UDHLKUQ *dies* ANYWAY SINCE IM SEEING IT AGAIN ON THE 28TH AFTER I SEE VENOM AT THE ALAMO ILL GET THE FULL EXPERIENCE!!!!!!!!! Also: i hate my brother hes an idiot and hes arguing marvel with me. HJJHGHJDG DIDNT SEE IT THE FIRST TIME BUT I SAW IT IN LIKE IMAX AT THE THEATER THE DOCTOR STRANGE 2 TRAILER THATS AMERICA CHAVEZ WITH THE STAR JACKET ITS GOTTA BE IDK IF YOU KNOW WHO THAT IS, BUT SHES ONE OF THE YOUNG AVENGERS SHES FRIENDS WITH KATE BISHOP(I ship them actually) AND SHE CAN OPEN LIKE, MULTIVERSAL SPACE PORTALS IN THE SHAPE OF A STAR SHES SO COOL IF SHES MCU, THEN THEY HAVE MOST OF THE YOUNG AVENGERS theres David(prodigy), Billy(Wiccan), Tommy(Speed), Teddy(Hulkling), Kate(Hawkeye), America(Ms America), Patriot(FORGOT HIS NAME HE WAS IN TFATWS), Noh-varr(Marvel-boy) and SOMETIMES Nate(Iron lad, but if the MCU was gonna do it they would probably make it Harley Keener) and..... I feel like im missing one? lemme think, i got wiccan and speed and their bfs, hawkeye and her bf, america and patriot... OH YEAH LOKI!!!!!!! o h m y g o d WHAT IF THEY DO KID LOKI Anyway. all the mcu is really missing is David and Teddy now, SO (guess theres the dillema of Billy and Tommy not existing....) OH MY GOD IM SO EXCITED FOR JARED LETO AND JARED HARRIS

[trashytummiez]

Consider: Idia safe vore during a gaming session, and Yuu trying to work out as many burps as they can out of him, while an increasingly flustered Idia tries (and fails) to keep it away from his mic for the other players to hear. bonus points if idia has a starting kink realization that he might be just as into this as Yuu is...

"Look out! He's about to use a type B earth attack guys! Make sure your iron boots are all equipped or else you'll get staggered and medium damage!" Idia exclaimed while playing on his PC with his guild. He had on his really expensive gamer mic and high spec rig which he built himself being such a tech wiz.

Idia winced when his tummy burbled but ignored that and continued fighting the monster with his guild.

He grinned excitedly. "Good! Now all we have to doooOOOOOORRRP!!" Poor Idia immediately blushed and covered his mouth when a large burp interrupted him mid-sentence. "E-Excuse me..." he all but whimpered. "A-Anyway all we have to do is keep attacking his backside. Keep-" Idia could barely finish his sentence an even bigger burp cut him off.

BBRRRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAPP!!!!

The boy immediately covered his mouth and whimpers.

"...S-Sorry again. Th-Think I had too much soda..."

Only there wasn't any soda on Idia's desk or any bottles in any bins to back what he was saying.

Idia pats his stomach a few times like he's getting someone's attention. "C'mon Yuu you're moving around too much."

Someone on his mic ask what Idia said which made the boy yelp in startled panic.

"S-Sorry! T-Talking to my cat."

Idia didn't own a cat either.

Though he did have a girlfriend who shrank herself with a temporary shrinking potion that she picked up from Sam's shop. All so she could ask her anxious boyfriend a simple request. Eat her and let her stay in his tummy for a little while.

Unfortunately for Idia the timing was pretty bad since there was a major raid his guild was planning and he was one of the lead players who obviously couldn't leave his team out to dry.

So here he was raiding the event level with his guild and had Yuu jumping around in his already stressed out tummy. It was not a good combination.

They were halfway into beating the monster when Yuu shook the stomach walls around. This time Idia tried to hold in the burp he felt rushing up his throat. But too bad for him the mic still picked up the sound of the gas rumbling in Idia's mouth. Poor Idia whimpered when he heard one of his guildmates suggest Idia get some pepto if he was burping so much.

The boy rubbed his turbulent tummy from under his hoodie in the hopes that Yuu would settle down in there.

"C'mon Yuu..."

"Sorry I can't help it," Yuu finally said and patted the tummy walls around her. "Your belly is just so hyperactive...!"

She wasn't wrong. The patting alone got Idia's tummy bubbling forcing the boy to just barely stifle another incoming burp.

The guild and Idia continued fighting the event monster until it eventually went down. His embarrassment subsided in time for Idia to allow himself to feel victorious as he hooted happily and thrusted his fists in the air.

"Wooooooo!!! Oh yeah! We totally owned that beast! Good job guys! We finally woOOOOOOOOON!!!!" That celebration was interrupted when Idia accidentally burped the end of his sentence right into his mic. He froze in place with his pale cheeks heated from embarrassment and whimpered again. "Y-Y'know that seems like a good place to end the raid. S-See you guys for the next one...!"

He immediately signed off of his game and frowned down at his own tummy.

"...Seriously?!"

"Sorry. Couldn't help it."

Idia sighed then sat down on his bed so he could lean back in a more relaxed position. One hand rested against the mattress while the other gently draped atop his stomach. Idia softly rubbed his belly and felt Yuu squirming around inside of him.

"Next time we're not doing this if I have a gaming sesh planned okay?"

"You want there to be a next time?" Yuu asked in surprise.

"N-Not really...b-but I know you do. So my hands are tied..." Idia replied. "...A-And, umm, I'm not gaming anymore so you can start moving around again if you want..."

Idia subtly lifted his hoodie up exposing his flat pale tummy which he subtly rested his hand against. He felt Yuu eagerly shaking up the walls around her which made Idia's belly shift in his hand.

It also produced a big pocket of air that rushed up Idia's throat for a big lengthy burp that expelled for a few seconds.

BBBAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRROOOOOOOOPP!!!!

Yuu shuddered at the sound and the way the stomach rattled around her when Idia released and blushed furiously.

Idia hit his chest to release another burp then sighed in relief and gently patted his tummy. But there was a subtle blush on his own face too. Not from embarrassment. Instead it was because the boy had to admit.

That squirming in his tummy felt really really good.

"You know something Yuu? There's something about having you in my tummy that feels...nice..."

Yuu grinned.

"You're into this too aren't you..."

Idia's whole face went red when she said that. But when she started moving around in there he couldn't help groan.

"...M-Maybe a little bit..."

Yuu grinned and patted the tummy walls to make Idia hiccup.

"Then yeah. I'll be sure to check if Sam has a discount for bulk potion purchases."

Idia moaned in satisfaction when Yuu began to gently rub the stomach walls instead of thrashing them around. The feeling caused the boy to steadily relax more and more until he was laying down on his bed with his arms rested on either side.

"...I'd like that a lot Yuu..."

[bloedwraak]

From a Distance

Hello folks! This is my first piece in awhile, I am new to writing for Game of Thrones so let me know how it is! I am aware that I am not the great with writing structure but oh-de-well! Also I couldn't find a gif that I liked, but this one works! -E

The Past

           The stones feel cool under your feet and the iron around your wrists almost burns your skin. With every step past the guards and servants makes your heartbeat faster and your head fall lower. No young lady should be seen in nothing but her night slip, but you were way past dignity and honor.

           “MOVE!” With the tug of your chains, you almost fall to your knees as you try to keep up with your captor. The tears that once threatened to fall now only burn in your eyes refusing to fall. With a shove your captor pushes open a heavy wooden door leading to a room filled with the lords and ladies along with the common folk.

           You briefly look up to scan the room, but only find looks of disgust or pity. Before you return your gaze to your battered feet you glance at the lord at the head of the room sitting in front of a grand fireplace, much like the one you once played in front of. To the side of the Lord hidden in the corner of the room was a boy with a mop of dark curls hanging just above his eyes and without meaning to you lock eyes with the boy and he receives you with a small smile.

           “What is the meaning of this, why is this child in chains!” A voice raised above all the others with a boom making you shrink into yourself once again hiding behind a veil of hair. Another tug comes from your captor, but this time you fall to your knees.

           “I caught this wildling scum hiding in my barn Lord Stark.” Your captor finally spoke, but only to spill lies. You were not a wildling, and you were only seeking shelter from the rain. In the storm it looked like it was abandoned until the morning when you woke to a knife at your throat.

           “Look at that child and tell me that is a wildling!” The lords voice raised higher and was filled with anger. You could feel the disgust in your captor’s eyes as he looks down at you and pulling tighter at your chains. “Remove her chains at once.”

           “My lord, she was stealing from my barn!” Your captor stepped forward to argue his claim making you fall onto your stomach. With a swift motion the lord stood and pulled you to your and away from your captor.

           “Release her.” His voice was low, but clearly it struck fear into your captor because in seconds you were free from the irons. What felt like instinct you rubbed the redness around your wrists while you reached for the pendant around your neck.

           “What is that my child.” The lord’s voice was now soft, and he reached for the pendant rubbing it over between his fingers. “Where did you find this?”

           “My father, Lord Linzer, gave it to me on my 5th name day my lord.” As your voice creaks out you look for the boy in the corner only to find he isn’t there. You cautiously look to the lord and find a friendly face.

           “Lady Y/N? How did you..” The lord’s voice trailed off as your tears decide to fall down your stained cheeks. The memories of fire and smoke fill your mind as you hear their screams telling you to run and not to stop only for the sound of steel to cover their last cries. “Take her to Lady Stark, and see that she is fed. This poor girl has gone through too much.”

The Present

           “Y/N why is your head always in a book, you should be practicing your stitching.” Sansa voice fills the silence in your corner of the library. She moves around the table and sits in front of you. The midday light is kind to her features and shows her smile.

           “If I stitch another stitch I will go crossed, and besides there is nothing else to fill my time.” She lets out a sigh, but her expression quickly changes once she realizes what you are watching from the window. Below in the yard training is Robb and Jon, they dance back and forth to the music of steel meeting steel.

           “Which one is it, I know you fancy one of them. Otherwise, you wouldn’t stay couped up in this dusty room.” Her comment pulls you away from them and once you meet her eyes, your cheeks flush a brilliant red. She laughs at your expression and reaches to grab your hands.

           “Please tell me it’s Robb, I’m sure mother would love the match!” Your face falls at the mention of Robb, Although Robb has grown into a fine man there is someone else that holds your heart.

           “You mean, you can’t be serious!” With a huff Sansa pulls away from you and stands to leave. Your gaze falls to your lap as the door of the library shuts. Standing to leave and possibly do damage control, you glance once more out the window catching the eyes of Jon. What a man he has become, from that day in the great hall he has always been an arm length away and never paying hardly any attention to you.

           He realizes who you are and goes to raise his hand in response, but Robb beats him to it with a strike to his arm. With that his attention is once again pulled away from you. Before retreating from the window, you see Lord Stark enter the yard and pull the boys away.

...

So what do we think, is it worth a part 2? (I might write part 2 anyway) Please feel free to make suggestions! -E

[whatdoesshedotothem]

Mon[day] 25 August 1834

..

..

At Beauvais at 1 1/2 a.m. fine night and fine morn[in]g as it beca[me] light – Oats (short and poor) to cut

n[ea]r Poix – at 10 20/.. cutt[in]g poorish barley – at 10 18/.. pass 1st br[idge] int[o] Abbeville – at 10 35/..

alight at the hot[e]l de l’Europe at Abbeville – the moyeux of the wheels (naves) mere[l]y

wedg[e]d and so flying in pieces - h[a]d the carossier from 3 doors off – all the wheels made safe and carr[ia]ge rais[e]d behind and before (the box of

the off-fore wheel brok[e]n) – put int[o]the fire, and fastened in its place w[i]th straw and matic of argille

i.e. clay puddle – the grease h[a]d got bet[ween] boxes and naves - Geo[rge] s[ai]d the iron rim of one of the naves

 149

1834

Aug[u]st

w[oul]d loose aft[e]r the 1st day or 2 – the boxes too sh[or]t - sh[oul]d be as long as the perforat[io]n of the nave

in order to keep the grease out – naves sh[oul]d be bored sm[all] and boxes heated and driv[e]n tight in - surpris[e]d

who d[i]d s[u]ch a job – the wheels ‘dangereusem[en]t malades’ b[u]t might last so[me] ti[me] - astonish[e]d

to hear they were new n[o]t 3 m[on]ths ago – naves n[o]t wedg[e]d now in th[i]s way eith[e]r in

Lond[on] or Paris - H[a]d work[e]d for Daldringen in Paris – knew he w[a]s dear - recom[mende]d

Binder r[ue] Cadet, Faub[our]g S[ain]t Hon[or]é – wheels here 60/. a p[ai]r = 120/. the form and

paint[in]g 160fr. – springs weigh[in]g fr[om] 50 to 60lbs. fer de Berri at 2/50 p[e]r lb. –

Restive horses at Montreuil and laugh[in]g impert[inen]t peop[le] cluster[in]g r[ou]nd the carr[ia]ge – (the garcon

h[a]d s[ai]d the wheels want[e]d greas[in]g and took two off – no! n[o]t at all want[e]d touch[in]g b[u]t Geo[rge] fac[ie]d

th[e]m hot or warm) – A- [Adney] sad[l]y fright[ene]d - s[ai]d I w[oul]d compl[ai]n of the horses, the postill[io]n s[ai]d

th[e]re w[a]s no reas[o]n b[u]t I might do as I lik[e]d – so g[o]t out at Corm[on]t next stage, w[e]nt

int[o]the single h[ou]se (n[o]t an auberge) – and wr[ote] ’25 Aug[u]st 1834 Mrs. List[e]r hav[in]g tak[e]n 4 horses

fr[om] the poste at Montreuil to Samer, th[i]s ev[enin]g, complains of the restiveness

of the horses’ - sh[oul]d ha[ve] writ[ten] Cormont inst[ea]d of Samer - p[ai]d the [impolite] postill[io]n 30 sols

p[e]r poste and ga[ve] the oth[e]r 1/. in addit[io]n – fair, b[u]t rath[e]r dullish day, i.e. lit[tle] or no sun

b[u]t rath[e]r warm[e]r th[a]n yest[erday] –