#that has like a curtain on it for privacy so you can hang out without people staring at you

[glitteratti]

4 days out from a full year of living in what is essentially my dream house :’)

[mrsriddlenott]

~ Caught ll ~

Mattheo Riddle x Fem!reader

masterlist

Warnings:Annoying Friends, Language, Drugs(barley), Smut(almost)

Ever since the boys found out about you and Mattheo it had become increasingly difficult to find alone time since the only one that actually respected your privacy was Enzo. When they first found out Mattheo thought it was perfect, he thought he’d get to take you on dates whenever he wanted, not just at night. And the first time the group crashed one of those dates he was happy to have them join while he got to show off your relationship.

But when it kept happening over and over he became more and more annoyed with their presence. Even when you’d sneak out of the castle to avoid them, the boys seemed to always find you. So it wasnt a surprise when Mattheo saw the group running towards the Black Lake behind your shoulder as he kissed it, “Oh come on!! Can you just give me some fucking time with my girlfriend please?!?!”

“Seriously? This is why you wanted to come here of all places,” Enzo shouted waving his hands in the air as he stood infront of the other three. Over the last few weeks he had desperately been trying to keep the boys from highjacking your dates but to no avail. “I am not about to be a part of this,” he scoffed as he stomped back up the grounds.

“Hellooo Lovebirds, wanna spark this with us?” Theo sang as he held a joint out above Mattheo’s narrowed eyes. “No, no I do not, if I wanted to I would have stayed in our dorm when you fucking rolled it.” Mattheo snapped, already standing and pulling you along with him before Theo could speak.

“Stay here, smoke your joint, and do not come to our dorm anytime soon.” He entangled his hand with yours as you made your way to the castle and down to the dungeons quickly.

You both were giggling and thanking Merlin you could finally be alone again as you slammed the dorm door open to Enzo’s shocked face, “I’ll….Imma….I’ll just give you two the rooooom…” He laughed as he stumbled and rushed from the dorm room. Mattheo immediately turned to put a locking charm on the door before he picked you up to chuck you on his bed, joining you and tugging the deep green curtains closed around you.

“Finally,” He huffed out as he kissed you aggressively and tugged your shirt off above your head, pushing you backwards, covering your body with his. “It has been way too long,” He growled into your neck as he bit and licked up to your jaw, taking your lips in his just as fists pounded on the door. A muttered charm with a click of the lock signaling it was now open.

“Are they fucking serious right now?” He groaned as he collapsed ontop of you. “This is really starting to piss me off.” He muttered moving off of you and grabbing your shirt for you. When you both looked past the hangings of Mattheo’s bed he rolled his eyes back toward you as Draco, Blaise, and Theo took seats around the room, passing their joint without a care in the world, “I think I might go to Azkaban if this keeps up.” Mattheo sighed as he tugged the curtains closed again, falling back onto the bed and pulling you to lay on top of his chest.

When your dates and rendezvous continued to repeatedly fail, Mattheo decided to revert back to his old methods and soon you were being grabbed by the wrist and tugged into an empty classroom with zero warning just like old times. He was almost immediately picking you up and wrapping your legs around his waist as you draped your arms around his neck. He kissed you all over as though he was starved while he carried you towards the teachers desk.

“I think we both agree we can just get started right Princess?” he laughed as he roughly placed you onto the desk, throwing papers to the floor and pushing himself between your legs. He moved to hike up your skirt as you unfastened his belt, letting you see how incredibly hard he was from the weeks of waiting to have you.

Mattheo kissed up and down your neck as he moved your underwear to the side while you began pulling him from his boxers and palming him lightly. He moaned louder than usual before smashing his lips into yours as he hastily lined himself up at your entrance beginning to push himself inside of you as the the classroom door was opened to laughs and high pitched mocks of “Princess,” from your friends.

“You have got to be fucking kidding me,” Mattheo groaned with a deep sigh and closed eyes as he slammed his hand onto the desk beside your thigh, “Why the fuck are you guys even here,” He snapped, putting himself, still rock hard, back into his boxers and smoothing out your skirt to make sure you were decent.

“You’re hogging y/n, we barely get to see our best friend anymore,” Theo grumbled sitting in a chair as Mattheo gave him a fake, mocking sympathetic look before Blaise pulled himself up to sit on the desk next to you.

“Oh great just make yourselves comfortable,” Mattheo said with a roll of his eyes, gripping your thighs tightly and gritting his teeth, “not like we were busy with anything,”

“y/n Love, you want us hang out with you don’t you?” Draco asked with a joking pout as he leaned onto the desk beside you, “I know you miss us,” To be honest you did not miss them, there was no way you could, they gave you zero chance to anymore and at this point you were just desperate to be alone with Mattheo.

“How could I when you can’t ever seem to leave us alone” You snapped, looking up to him with a fake smile, “Ooohoohoo, someones sassy today,” Draco and the other boys laughter that filled the room only annoyed you further. “No Malfoy I’m pissed,” You rolled your eyes and took Mattheo’s hand as you hopped off the desk to leave the classroom, throwing your friends the middle finger before slamming the door shut.

“Let’s try my dorm again hm?” You smiled over your shoulder as you led Mattheo to the dungeons with your hand still in his.

“Merlin Princess, you have no idea how hot that was.” He chuckled as you tugged him into your dorm letting him kick the door shut behind you. “Oh really?” You chuckled as you turned back to him, his eyes roaming over your body as his fingers played with his lips, mumbling a very distracted “mhmm”, making you giggle. His eyes widened as he noticed you stepping closer to him, meeting your eyes as you grabbed his belt with a light tug towards your bed. He smirked down at you as he let you guide him, turning as you walked before you shoved him down onto your bed with force.

Mattheo smiled and chuckled happily as he let his head fall back while you crawled over him slowly. It wasn’t often that Mattheo gave over control, but when he did he absolutely loved it. You let your lips slowly trail over every exposed section of his body before finally reaching his lips and straddling his waist as you kissed him deeply. His hands immediately found your hips, tugging you forward on his still hard dick, the friction pulling a desperate moan from the both of you.

You trailed your lips back down his neck as your body moved lower, unbuttoning his shirt slowly and kissing each newly exposed section until your lips met his v-line. “Don’t be a tease Princess,” he sighed as he positioned himself on his elbows to watch your actions.

As you unbuckled his belt and trailed your tongue across the exposed skin above it your door swung open making Mattheo flop back onto your bed with a desperate groan close to a whine. For a second he only stared up at the ceiling, breathing slowly as the three boys made themselves at home around your dorm.

“Y’know what I don’t fucking care anymore,” he sighed as he sat up to grip your waist, pushing the both of you off the bed and tugging you towards your bathroom, “if you don’t wanna give us any privacy than you can just listen to me fuck her if thats what you really want.”

He lightly shoved you forwards through the door of your bathroom before slamming it behind you, turning to mutter a locking charm before looking at you with angry, hungry eyes.

~~~~

Caught III

Caught IV

Caught V

Caught VI

[girlkisser13]

artemis cabin headcanons

the hunters of artemis

• when a hunter join the hunt, they no longer get periods as a blessing from artemis. (another reason to become a hunter?? jk i love women WAY too much).

• obviously, they’re all feminists.

• most of them can't take sexist jokes, so be careful unless you want to get shot with an arrow.

• they keep in touch with the girls that have left the hunt.

• when two hunters fall in love, artemis usually shows mercy, knowing the vow spoke of leaving behind the company of men not women.

• they’ve definitely bumped into the valkyrie on more than one occasion. artemis doesn’t like them very much because she doesn’t want her hunters to become einherjar.

• she’d rather they have the peace and calmness that they deserve.

• much like the camp half-blood necklace beads, the hunters have charm bracelets. they get a charm in the shape of a moon once they arrive and then a star shaped one every ten years they serve artemis.

• trans girls are ALWAYS accepted into the hunt.

• but if a trans guy wants to join the hunt (pretransition), artemis will straight up refuse to take them, subsequently kicking of their gender crisis.

• she’ll also do this with pretransition trans women (to their great confusion).

• the minimum age to become a hunter is sixteen, unless there are special circumstances (it just doesn’t sit right with me that most of the hunters are in their preteens).

• this is a big decision and shouldn’t be made at such a young age. let these girls go through puberty and find out whether they really want to forsake men forever.

• plus, it’d actually benefit the hunters to be more physically mature; they’d be a lot stronger and therefore faster due to the muscle development.

• they have a hotline number that women can call if they feel extremely uncomfortable or fearful in a situation.

• they'll discretely escort her out and then beat the shit out of whoever is scaring her. <33

cabin exterior

• the cabin is primarily made of wood, with vines and ivy creeping up its sides, blending seamlessly with the surrounding forest.

• the cabin's roof is adorned with silver tiles that shimmer like moonlight, casting a gentle glow at night.

• carvings of various wild animals, such as deer, wolves, and bears, are intricately etched into the wooden walls, symbolizing artemis's connection with nature and wildlife.

• during the day, the cabin appears almost invisible from a distance, thanks to its natural camouflage of leaves and branches, making it a perfect sanctuary for the hunters.

• the entrance is flanked by banners with the symbol of the moon and arrows, representing artemis's hunting prowess and her role as the goddess of the moon.

• hidden paths and trails lead from the cabin into the deeper parts of the forest, allowing the hunters to come and go without being seen.

cabin interior

• the walls and floors are made of polished wood, giving the cabin a warm and rustic feel. the wood is adorned with carvings of forest scenes and animals.

• soft, silvery lanterns hang from the ceiling, casting a gentle glow reminiscent of moonlight. at night, these lights give the cabin a tranquil, otherworldly ambiance.

• the bunks are arranged in a circle around a central hearth. each bunk has a curtain made of light, airy fabric, providing privacy while allowing the occupants to feel connected to the room.

• the decor includes tapestries and rugs featuring scenes of forests, wildlife, and the moon. the cabin is filled with plants, flowers, and small potted trees, making it feel like an extension of the forest outside.

• each hunter has a personal space to store their gear. this includes a rack for bows and quivers, hooks for coats, and shelves for other hunting equipment.

• the central hearth is always burning with a controlled, magical flame that provides warmth and light. it's surrounded by comfortable seating made of logs and animal pelts, perfect for gathering and sharing stories.

• a section of the cabin is dedicated to practicing archery and other skills. it includes targets, dummies, and plenty of space for physical training.

• one corner of the cabin has shelves filled with books about nature, wildlife, and mythology, along with maps of various hunting grounds and sacred sites.

cabin traditions

• they have an annual remembrance day on the first full moon of june where they honor the fallen hunters of that year. artemis always ensures that there is a beautiful strawberry moon lighting up the sky.

• when they visit camp half-blood, they to have archery contests with the apollo kids (and other kids that have archery skills). they share their advanced skills and techniques, often leading to informal training sessions where the campers learn new tips and tricks from them.

• they hold special training sessions particularly focused on survival skills, hunting tactics, and self-defense. these sessions are a blend of physical training and imparting the wisdom of living harmoniously with nature.

• the hunters hold workshops on making traditional hunting gear, such as bows and arrows, and other crafts related to their way of life. these workshops are hands-on and give campers a tangible connection to the hunters' lifestyle.

divider by @strangergraphics

[arcsimper5]

Aloha 🌺

I’ve recently discovered your blog and I looooveee your fics 😭.

I saw that your requests are open but I didn’t see any rules so excuse me if I did something wrong.

May I request a sweet (possessive) Hunter x F!Reader fic? I loved how you touched on Hunters doubts in Flutter but I’d love to know how you’d think he reacts when there is an idiots in love trope going on.

Spice/smut is always welcome but I don’t want to restrict your creativity.

Thank you 🙏🏻🌺

Hellooooooo lovely anon!

I'm so sorry this took so long, I've been flitting from project to project and not had time to really sit down and think about anything!

So, I wrote what turned into basically a prequel for Flutter, as within that there's a mention of how reader and Hunter got together.

This is a spicy little ficlet, so I hope it's what you wanted and what you were looking for!

Tension

Pairing: Hunter x Reader Explicit content within! Warnings: Angst, pining, idiots in love, guilt, swearing, mentions of bad past.

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

Hunter could practically feel the anger radiating from you as you tucked Omega into the spare bunk, making sure Lula was carefully snuggled under her arm before you leant in, whispering goodnight.

Your soft smile, reserved for the young girl, was quickly replaced with a glare as you tugged the curtain across and turned to him, a fire unlike anything he’d ever seen in your eyes.

“My room. Now,” you instructed, heading for the makeshift quarters you had in what had formerly been the storage room. It was by no means large, barely fitting you slightly larger than regulation bed and a small storage chest side by side, but it gave you privacy at least.

If Wrecker, Tech or Echo noticed your anger, they didn’t say anything, all merely shrugging or shaking their heads when Hunter sent them a desperate look, one that screamed ‘help me’.

But he was on his own, letting out a deep sigh as he trudged after you, his head hanging a little.

You stepped to the side, allowing him into the room with you before you closed the door behind you, crossing your arms across your chest.

Hunter took another deep breath as he turned, bracing himself for your telling off.

“How could you?” 

The simple question was laced with venom, anger pouring off of you in waves as you hissed it, leaning forward a little.

“Who the kriff do you think you are that you can just decide that Omega is going to live with a bunch of strangers she just met, and not even talk to us about it?”

“They’re not strangers,” Hunter protested, “they…”

“They are to her!”

Your heart was hammering in your chest, eyes stinging as you stared at Hunter, trying to keep your composure.

“I know what it’s like, to be cast off because no-one wants you, Hunter. You can’t just… do that!”

“I… I wasn’t trying to abandon her,” Hunter murmured, shame flooding his system. Any anger he’d felt at your earlier comments began to melt away as you continued, the salty scent of your tears hitting him like a speeder.

“But that’s what she’ll think,” you choked, breath catching in your throat, “that kid has never been allowed to make a decision in her whole damn life, and the first one she’s made, you try and take away from her!”

“Because I was doing what I thought was best!” Hunter protested, folding his arms to mirror yours, his defences going up once more.

“For who? For her? Or for you?”

“That’s not fair,” Hunter snarled, his eyes narrowing, “Cut and Suu are good people. She’d be with kids her own age…”

“I don’t care if they’re the Force incarnate!” you shouted back, immediately closing your eyes and taking a steadying breath, trying to claw back a sense of calm. “You can’t just decide she’s going to live somewhere else without talking to her, or to us!”

“We don’t know the first thing about kids!” the sergeant barked back, taking a step towards you. “How are we supposed to look after her?”

“Trying would be a good start,” you snapped back sharply, “not shouting at her for making a simple mistake, not trying to dump her on other people. Omega saved your life on Kamino and Force knows she saved all of our shebs back there. Cut, Suu and the kids wouldn’t even have been on that shuttle if it wasn’t for her!”

That silenced Hunter for a moment, your words swarming over him.

“She’s just a kid,” he protested weakly, shaking his head. “I… I’m sorry. I panicked. I… I thought she’d be better off with them. Safer, with them. Being here, on this ship… it’s no life for a kid. It’s barely a life for us… for you.”

His gaze softened as he looked back up at you, the sincerity in them disarming you abruptly.

“Hunter,” you croaked, your tears finally spilling over, “she… She wants to be here. With you. Her family.”

“But she deserves…”

Cocking an eyebrow at the derisive snort you let out, Hunter’s eyes narrowed once more, less anger and more confusion driving the action this time.

“Didn’t we have this exact conversation just after Onderon? Before everything went to shit?” you murmured, dropping your arms to your sides. “You trying to get me to leave with the refugees because it would be ‘safer’? Because I ‘deserved better’?”

Hunter shuffled uncomfortably, drawing in a deep breath as he too let his arms drop, his eyes closing against your reasoning.

“I’ll tell you now what I told you then; I’ve made my choice. I would rather spend my days locked in an Imperial prison than apart from you, from my squad. Omega made the same choice. You seem to have that effect on people.”

The joke caught Hunter by surprise, a short peal of laughter escaping his lips before he shook his head, his expression softening once again.

“For our sins,” he huffed dramatically, your lips turning up into a soft, fond smile for the first time since you’d left Salucemi.

“Hunter,” you called, the exhaustion in your voice suddenly clear. Looking you over cautiously, Hunter stepped forward, coming to meet you as you raised your hands. His met yours without hesitation, lacing your fingers together as your foreheads came to rest against one anothers, both closing your eyes and enjoying the moment. 

“It won’t happen again,” he promised lowly, his guilt obvious, “and… I’m sorry.”

“I know,” you sighed, squeezing his hands softly, offering silent comfort. “Look… if things get too bad, I… I’ll take Omega. I’ll take her and find somewhere, and we can…”

“No…”

The word was huffed so softly, you weren’t sure Hunter had spoken at all until you opened your eyes, shocked at what you found.

Hunter’s gorgeous, chestnut grey eyes were reddened, a single tear rolling down his tattooed cheek, your breath stolen by the way he looked at you.

“Hunter?”

“I… I need you,” he admitted gently, “I… Maker, cyare, I…”

Your stomach fluttered even as your confusion grew.

The relationship you shared with Hunter had always been… different.

While you could joke with Wrecker, chat for hours with Tech and reminisce with Echo, Hunter had always been more… intense. 

The first time you’d found him having a panic attack, you hadn’t hesitated to pull him into your room, laying him down and stroking soothing hands through his hair until the panic subsided.

By the time he woke up some four hours later, he’d been shocked to find himself in a comfortable bed, surrounded by plush pillows with an eye mask on and soothing ocean sounds playing from a small device on your trunk.

Since that day, you’d confided in each other, become closer in a way you had never thought possible. And selfishly, it had left you wanting more.

More of Hunter. More of his attention, his affection, his body and mind… But you would never ask. It was against regulations, and it was a distraction. Until the war ended.

‘He doesn’t mean it like that,’ you chastised yourself inwardly, ‘he doesn’t. He can’t.’

“Hunter?” you managed, the question breathed into the space between you, your eyes still locked with his, “What… What do…”

“On Onderon… I… I didn’t want you to go. I was so glad you chose me, chose us. And then, seeing you cuffed in the cells… I thought I’d made a bad call. I thought I might lose you. I should have… I should have said something then, but…”

“About what?” you prompted into the void left by his cut off sentence, his eyes closing once again as he sucked in a deep breath, trying to steady himself.

You couldn’t suppress the gasp that left you as Hunter pulled you against him suddenly, pressing you back against the wall of your room. With once swift motion, Hunter’s hands, still laced with yours, lifted your arms and pinned them over your head.

He withdrew from the keldabe, shifting just enough to lean down, pressing his lips to yours in a searing kiss.

For a moment, your brain simply went dark. It stuttered, trying to process the feel of Hunter’s lips on yours, the weight of his body pressing against you, all taut muscle and strong grip, the swipe of his tongue against your mouth…

Letting out a soft moan into the kiss, you opened up to him, Hunter taking full advantage. As your tongues touched, you both let out a whine, your entire body shuddering under his touch.

The reaction seemed to break whatever spell had drawn you together, the sergeant almost leaping back, letting your hands go and holding his own up as if to not appear threatening.

“I… I’m sorry,” he gasped as you leant against the wall, panting for breath, “I shouldn’t have… I should…”

You cut him off with a kiss of your own, practically throwing yourself against him, pinning him against the wall this time. As your hands moved up his chest and to his neck, threading into his thick curls and tugging gently, his wound around your back, clutching at you desperately.

The next few moments were a blur, hands roaming over each other's bodies, pulling at clothing, teeth and lips and tongues clashing in a passionate dance.

By the time your naked back made contact with your bedsheets, you were a babbling mess, barely coherent as Hunter’s mouth moved over your breasts, flicking over one nipple while clever fingers toyed with the other.

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted you,” he murmured into your soft flesh, “no karking idea.”

“Is, is this really happening?” you gasped as your back arched, drawn into Hunter’s teasing touches.

“I karking hope so,” he purred against your stomach as he made his way lower and lower, kissing every inch he could reach, “because if it’s not, and I wake up alone in my bunk with a hard-on, I’m coming to find you, and making it real.”

You could only shudder and cry out in response as his tongue finally found your centre, licking stripe over your clit, to your dripping entrance.

“Now lay back, mesh’la, and let me take care of you.”

[ysmtttty]

Red Ferrari

Chapter 13

Summary: Azris AU, where Azriel is a mechanic and has his own service station. One day, Eris comes there because something is wrong with his car

AO3 link Chapter 12 Chapter 14

Eris woke up in the morning due to the light filtering through the bright curtains, the pleasant absence of a headache, and the unpleasantly familiar ringtone of his phone. At the same time, Azriel opened his eyes, grumbled that Eris was an idiot for not putting his phone on silent, and reached over to hang up the call before Eris could figure out who was calling.

"For God's sake, it's Sunday. Whoever is calling this early deserves the death penalty," Azriel muttered, tightening his arms around Eris' waist and pulling him closer, burying his nose in Eris' neck. "Go back to sleep."

Eris stifled a laugh and obeyed the command, closing his eyes again and enjoying the warmth beside him. He liked waking up here—even if it wasn't the most comfortable bed he had ever slept in and there was always a risk of getting bedbugs, despite whatever Azriel claimed about their absence. Being next to Azriel, with no rush to go anywhere, and not fearing that someone might break into the apartment was enough for him.

However, his phone rang again, breaking the comfortable morning idyll for the second time. Azriel groaned and bit Eris' shoulder in a small act of revenge for disrupting not just his own sleep but Azriel's as well.

"You're going to need to buy another phone because if it rings again, I'm breaking this one," Azriel grumbled as Eris declined the call. But not even a minute passed before the persistent caller tried again.

"Sorry," Eris said apologetically, thinking it might be necessary to answer the call. In his situation, it could be anyone for any reason.

Azriel rolled his eyes, reluctantly pulling away to give the illusion of privacy. Despite his sleepiness, he watched with interest as Eris' expression turned serious. The soft half-smile from their cuddling morphed into a frown and coldness as he answered the call, responding with short "yes," "no," and "I'll handle it."

Whoever was on the other end of the line at eight in the morning on a weekend, was making Eris tense. Azriel noticed the way his shoulders stiffened, the crease that appeared between his brows, and the way his nails absentmindedly scratched the skin of his hand.

"I understand, I'll be there as soon as I can," Eris ended the conversation, and Azriel was not happy to hear that.

After hanging up and practically throwing his phone onto the bedside table, Eris buried his face in his hands and groaned.

"Who was that?" Azriel asked, pulling his hands away from his face and placing his own palm against Eris' cheek.

"The police," Eris grumbled with annoyance, leaning into Azriel's hand. "Morrigan's father got arrested last night. And since he used me as his lawyer during my marriage to her, he's demanding me as his attorney now as well."

Azriel frowned immediately, not expecting that answer. Sure, he had anticipated some sort of work-related issue—maybe a fire at the office, a troublesome client needing help, or something business-related. Azriel had planned to persuade Eris to leave it until Monday, as the world wouldn't end if Eris Vanserra took a day off to truly rest.

Well, it seemed that apparently it would. Damn rich lawyers and their drama.

"And you can't refuse?"

"He's a client of my firm," Eris sighed in explanation. "I can't refuse without a valid reason. It would cause unpleasant rumors about unreliability."

Azriel reached over and bit his shoulder again, to which Eris only laughed softly, running his hand through Azriel's hair and smiling weakly.

"I'm sure it's just some casino debt issue or something like that. It'll be settled with bail and a few negotiations," Eris reassured, trying to convince himself of that. "I don't think it'll take long."

"So, does that mean I'll still see you today?" Azriel smirked lazily as Eris leaned in to kiss him.

"I plan to exploit your hospitality until you kick me out of your apartment, so yes, you'll still see me," Eris smirked back against his lips.

Then he hurried to get dressed, while Azriel slowly got up to make coffee since his wonderfully busy lawyer boyfriend had to work on a Sunday.

"There's a steamer in the closet," Azriel called from the kitchen, watching as Eris tried to smooth out his shirt and make it look presentable. Eris nodded in thanks and went to the closet, looking for the steamer.

As he figured out how the miracle gadget worked – Azriel had a feeling Eris didn't often iron his own clothes – Azriel whipped up a quick breakfast, knowing this idiot likely wouldn't grab food on the way.

While eggs fried on the stove, Azriel walked around the kitchen, doing most routine things leisurely, and feeling Eris approach and kiss him on the neck. "I can't imagine how I lived before you," Eris joked into his ear.

"You'd walk around in wrinkled shirts with terrible eating habits," Azriel remarked, turning off the stove and facing him.

"I never wear wrinkled shirts," Eris scoffed, tying his tie and deliberately adjusting his collar.

"Oh yeah, you'd just order a new, ironed shirt instead of using the steamer."

"Unfortunately, your home is outside the delivery range of my atelier."

Azriel laughed, plating the eggs. After a quick breakfast and a kiss, Eris left, saying he'd call later when he figured out how long the mess with Keir would take.

***

Eris hated police stations. Mostly because of how many times he had to visit them for work. Even more so because, in his hometown, his last name was often recognized before he even arrived, and the officers would look at him with suspicion and disdain.

Not that he cared what some uniformed idiots thought of him, people who couldn't do their jobs without wasting time.

Ignoring the protests of a few uniformed idiots, he walked straight to the investigator’s office, who happened to be a good acquaintance from their frequent encounters under similar circumstances. The investigator greeted him with only a sullen look.

"That bad, huh?" Eris sighed, closing the door behind him and giving Tamlin a once-over.

"Don't even ask for bail," Tamlin cut him off immediately in an unfriendly tone. "He's being charged with murder, and the evidence against him is overwhelming. There's no way you're getting him off."

Eris resisted the urge to roll his eyes. How many times had he heard that phrase, and how many times had he proven otherwise? Still, that didn't mean he intended to try too hard in Keir's case. In fact, he suspected it all coincidentally aligned with things his father had said and his sudden appearance in town.

"With all due respect, it's not your decision whether to grant bail," Eris stated firmly, not letting the condescending attitude toward his skills slide. "The court will decide that, not you. And in the event that my client and I decide to file a bail request, I strongly advise you not to obstruct it. Otherwise, I'm sure you know what will happen. Now," he patted his briefcase, "I'd like to see the case files. I have limited time, and I'd prefer to spend it speaking with my client."

Tamlin’s eyes flashed with anger. Eris met his gaze indifferently, understanding that the man had every reason to hinder his investigation. Keir was a bloated bastard, known by every rat in the alley to be involved in shady business. A man who had been under investigation for years, if not decades, but even then, no one had been able to dig up enough to go to court. The clean-up was too effective. Or the bribes. Probably both.

Eris could only sympathize for three seconds because, with all due respect to Tamlin and his “noble” duty to put criminals behind bars, right now, his own ass was on the line. If Eris had learned anything from years in law, it was that he wasn't defending justice—he was defending himself and getting paid for it.

Considering the stakes were higher than just simple money in this case, Eris wasn't about to dive into who was right or wrong, guilty or innocent.

Tamlin silently pulled a thin gray folder from his top drawer and tossed it to Eris, nearly hitting him in the face. Eris held back, though he could have said plenty in response to the unmistakable gesture—he only smirked crookedly and, flipping through the documents, sarcastically muttered, "Thanks."

All he needed was for the case not to fall into Thesan's hands when it went to court. That would be the real disaster because Eris had learned over the years that Thesan would scrutinize every letter in the documents, and if Keir was indeed guilty and foolish enough to get caught, getting him off would be impossible.

After reviewing the case files and finishing the coffee he ordered at the café across the street, Eris returned to the station. This time, he intended to speak with Keir himself.

"Is he here?" Eris asked the officer, naming Keir and identifying himself as his lawyer. The officer just looked at the computer, taking far too long to type a name that wasn't that long, then poked at it some more before staring dumbly at the screen.

"Yes," the officer eventually nodded. Although Eris had asked because he needed the officer to escort him to Keir.

Eris expectantly looked at the uniformed idiot, who slowly blinked, irritatingly taking a sip from his mug. Beginning to simmer, Eris forced himself to take a deep breath and remind himself that he would be able to leave soon.

“So, will you let me speak to my client?” Eris asked, raising an eyebrow, impatiently drumming his fingers on the edge of the table.

The idiot, as if he had just realized what was being asked of him, suddenly became flustered and nodded, finally getting up from his seat.

“Follow me,” he muttered, and Eris followed him.

They entered the interrogation room, where Eris glanced at Keir, sitting at the table and handcuffed to it. He looked exhausted; the police clearly hadn't wasted time and had been trying to question him for hours. Keir looked as irritated as ever.

Not surprising, though, Eris thought. He probably wouldn’t enjoy spending his Sunday morning in a police station either, asking for help from someone he had recently tried to intimidate.

When the idiot finally left the room, giving them some privacy, Eris pulled out the free chair and took a seat. Seeing Keir in prison clothes definitely brought him some satisfaction, along with a strange amusement at the sight.

“Well?” Eris crossed his arms and looked expectantly at Keir, who only huffed in irritation. “I hope you haven’t confessed to anything,” Eris said condescendingly, spreading some papers from his briefcase.

“Do I look like an idiot?” Keir almost growled, glaring at him with even more frustration. Eris met his gaze indifferently.

“What makes you think I’ll take on this case?” he asked instead, lifting one of the documents. “I don’t take on doomed cases. And from what I see…” He deliberately glanced at one of the security camera photos. “This case is already lost.”

“Beron’s son, undefeated in any case, and here you are telling me there’s nothing you can do?” Keir smirked. “Don’t you think your father will be quickly disappointed?”

Eris chuckled lightly, finding it amusing that Keir actually believed his father’s approval was something he sought. Not in this life, and probably not in any other. Beron was fatefully born to be a terrible father, whose opinion Eris only considered when it threatened physical harm or serious risks that couldn’t be ignored.

But to take into account the approval or disapproval of that old bastard? God forbid.

“I’m innocent,” Keir declared confidently, and Eris just rolled his eyes. How many times had he heard that phrase in his practice?

“All my clients are innocent,” he noted dryly. “Do you have an alibi?”

Keir opened his mouth and then closed it, clearly stopping himself from saying something. “No. I don’t.”

Eris narrowed his eyes, studying him, and then scoffed. “If I do decide to become your lawyer, you must tell me only the truth. Otherwise, I won’t be able to defend you.”

“The truth is,” Keir leaned in, resting his elbows on the table and lowering his voice in an intense tone, “I’m innocent. I didn’t do what these pigs accuse me of, whether I have an alibi or not. And I think you’ll take my case,” he continued after a pause, leaning back in his chair. “Because if you don’t, the consequences might not be to your liking.”

“You’re not in a position to threaten me,” Eris cut in sharply without batting an eye. Keir’s words didn’t scare him, they only made him angrier.

“Actually, you’re not in a position to refuse me,” Keir smirked smugly, trying to gesture with his hands to match his words, but the handcuffs restrained him, and Eris almost smiled. “Ask your father in a few days why Morrigan was granted the honor of becoming part of the Vanserra family.”

There it was. The hint of blackmail Eris had been waiting for. Confirmation of his father’s words, which he hadn’t wanted to fully believe, but here Keir was, behaving exactly as Beron had said he would if those words were true.

“Morrigan will no longer be part of the Vanserra family in a week,” Eris sneered without a hint of humor. Keir clearly didn’t appreciate his words, feeling unsatisfied that his threats were once again ignored. “And I have no doubt that without my intervention, in a week, you’ll have neither influence nor money. I personally doubt those things will matter much in prison. But by pulling the right strings, who knows where you’ll end up, right? Maybe even in the north.”

Eris grinned as Keir jerked forward in anger at his audacity. Of course, few people liked it when someone dug through their dirty laundry and found details they’d rather no one knew. Too bad for Keir that Eris wasn’t lazy when it came to sending his people to dig up dirt on those who dared cross him.

“If I’m not mistaken, most of your enemies are in the northern prison, right?” Eris smiled coldly. “A few drug lords you framed, maybe even entire cartels. I think they’ll be thrilled to see a familiar face.”

“You’re definitely your father’s son,” Keir muttered, and Eris laughed humorlessly.

“One day, you’ll get tired of playing the ‘your father’ card against me,” Eris remarked

Keir narrowed his eyes as if seeing Eris from a new angle. He probably hadn’t expected Eris to come this prepared. However, something told Eris that Keir hadn’t expected to be in this situation at all. There was something about his claims of innocence that Eris, despite himself, believed.

“Your terms?” Keir demanded reluctantly.

Eris tilted his head. “Simple. We sign a contract, and I help reduce the sentence.”

Keir, simmering with frustration, held back another retort. “I don’t need a reduced sentence. I need my rightful acquittal for a crime I didn’t commit.”

“All the evidence is against you. The jury won’t be pleased with your reputation, and even a judge on your payroll won’t be able to help,” Eris said firmly, in a matter-of-fact tone.

He laid out the papers on the table, and Keir stared at them, clearly seeing them for the umpteenth time, judging by the fury with which he glared at the photo of a shadowy figure captured by security cameras leaving the hotel where the victim was killed.

“The victim was a politician and businessman with whom you reportedly had a falling-out over territory disputes. He was killed yesterday at 9 PM in his hotel room. The staff testifies they saw you, and the surveillance footage confirms it.”

Keir grimaced, his eyes sweeping over all the documents with disgust.

“And you think I’m stupid enough to do it myself?” he scoffed indignantly. Eris understood, too, that people like Keir usually handled such matters quietly and indirectly. However, karma did exist, and it often caught up with such people unexpectedly. Even if with the help of people like Beron.

“I think you’re in a pathetic situation,” Eris said. “One I can pull you out of if we sign a contract on my terms. And they will include more than just payment for my hard work.”

“Demanding compensation for physical damage, boy?” Keir sneered condescendingly.

“I’ll demand the destruction of any compromising materials your family has against mine. All of it, including all backup copies. If you violate our agreement, you’ll be liable for an exorbitant fine. And we’re talking millions, which, from what I’ve heard, don’t stay long in your pockets with the speed at which you visit casinos.”

Another wave of anger crossed Keir’s face, which Eris ignored once again. “This includes compromising material held by all your family members against anyone from the Vanserra family.”

“Has your wife got something on you?” Keir guessed.

“Not surprised to find that rottenness runs in the family,” Eris shrugged. “Only on those terms will I help you. If you can’t handle things by the time the trial starts, you can rely on a public defender.”

Keir wasn’t foolish enough to believe he could find a better lawyer, or even a good one, who would be willing to represent his interests in court, given how much evidence was stacked against him. Any sensible person in this situation would say he was on his own, no matter how much money Keir offered. Ruining one’s career with such a case would appeal only to the foolish or greedy.

Eris didn’t entirely believe that a contract would truly prevent Keir from spreading compromising information, which would be difficult to control, especially since Beron would never tell him what kind of dirt Keir had. However, Eris noticed just how much Keir panicked when he mentioned prison placement. A few more well-placed threats, and in his panic, Keir would likely agree to anything Eris asked.

After concluding the conversation, Eris left the police station. He would now have to help Keir, at least by preparing a base of arguments on why the police evidence was insufficient for a conviction—something difficult, but not impossible.

***

When Eris left, Azriel remained in the apartment, unsure of what to do with himself. On any other day, he might have agreed to cover Cassian's Sunday shift, knowing full well how much he hated working on weekends, especially early in the morning. But today wasn’t the day. And… to be honest, Azriel doubted such days would come often anymore.

It wasn’t just because today he wanted to spend time with Eris, despite the fact that even on Sundays, that idiot had to work and had already run off somewhere. The problem lay more in the fact that he no longer wanted to linger at the workshop any longer than necessary.

If Azriel used to practically live for his work, in a good way, not as a workaholic, enjoying time with his best friends there and finding some peace among the familiar and well-mastered mechanisms, he no longer felt the same calm. Now, he wanted to finish his shift early and leave as soon as possible.

Azriel suspected Rhysand was to blame. More precisely, their strained relationship. It had been more than three weeks since he had, supposedly, “forgiven” Rhysand. Yet during this entire period, they hadn’t gathered the three of them together like they used to. Cassian had invited them multiple times, but either Rhysand had urgent matters to attend to, or Azriel himself came up with excuses why he couldn’t make it.

Sometimes these excuses were true, like when Eris told him they were going to a closed car exhibition, and turning that down would have been very, very stupid. But other times, he made them up because…

Honestly, he still didn’t fully understand why. Some sudden sense of discomfort? That was possible.

Despite Rhysand’s attempts to smooth over their conflict, Azriel still felt the rift between them. Every attempt from his best friend to rebuild the bridge between them ended with Azriel simply cutting the ties on his end.

Azriel thought that everything between them would improve. In time. That things would return to the way they used to be, and they’d once again sit at Rhysand’s house, watching sports, laughing at Cassian when he overreacted to certain moments. Or they’d once again discuss their complicated love lives—mostly it was just Azriel teasing the other two because they were such losers in that department, and he sometimes wondered how the Archeron sisters even put up with them.

But the more time passed, the more often Azriel came to the realization that maybe things would never be the same again.

Maybe, at that moment, Rhysand had broken something between them, causing irreparable damage that couldn’t be fixed with simple apologies and a few work-related perks.

That was probably why Azriel ignored his messages more often than usual, taking hours to respond because he needed time to gather the strength to reply at all. And that’s also why he declined their usual hangouts. That’s also why he no longer stayed longer than necessary at the workshop when his and Rhysand’s shifts overlapped.

And yet… there was something sharp tugging at his chest with the realization that over a decade of friendship had ended just like that.

Azriel spent some time in the kitchen, trying to figure out lunch, slightly hoping that Eris would return by lunchtime and finish all his business as early as possible. Aside from the leftover pasta from yesterday, which, despite his love for Eris, didn’t taste the best, there wasn’t anything edible in the fridge.

After improvising with the ingredients and making something like a stew, Azriel went out to the store, since he’d run out of sunflower oil and a few other small things he’d been putting off buying later. And that merciless "later" had finally come.

The weather outside was nasty and cold, with slush on the roads—he hadn’t even heard it rain during the night—clouds overhead adding unnecessary gloom to the day, and a wind that pierced through to the bone despite the jacket he had on. Miserable, in one word.

Azriel was almost at the store when his gaze fell on a figure in the crowd. A figure with cold eyes, staring directly at him, with hair black as night. A figure too familiar, someone Azriel never wanted to see again. A figure of death.

But as he pushed through the crowd, intent on catching the cursed figure, the person had already vanished. It must have been his imagination. It had to be. They couldn’t be here…

Looking around and not seeing anyone even remotely resembling the figure, Azriel sighed in relief. He must have imagined it. Maybe his eyesight was getting worse with age, and he was due for a visit to the ophthalmologist and perhaps even needed glasses.

Still, as he walked home, the unsettling feeling from what he’d seen lingered. A certain tension, a sense of being watched. Azriel brushed off the feeling as he entered the building and then the shower, telling himself they were too far away for the figure to be real.

Closer to lunchtime, Eris called.

"Hey," and judging by the tiredness in his voice, Azriel knew their lunch plans were canceled.

"Hey," Azriel replied. "How’s it going?"

"Terrible," Eris bluntly said. "I’ll be stuck with this case for a while. I’ll be home in the evening, okay?"

"No problem," Azriel answered, carefully hiding the disappointment in his voice. No way he’d burden Eris even more. "Any dinner requests?"

Eris chuckled softly over the phone. "Anything without black pepper."

"Got it. Call when you’re on your way."

Eris responded with a quiet "mhm" and hung up. Azriel sighed, rubbing his eyes and wondering when Eris’s presence in his life had become so indispensable, so important, that now, when he was busy with his own matters, Azriel felt a strange sense of disappointment in his absence.

When his phone rang again, Azriel hoped it was Eris. Just because. Maybe he’d finished his work early.

However, the caller ID showed it was Gwyn, and Azriel picked up, preparing to hear some important gossip about other music groups that Gwyn was too excited about or some rave about a new book—she’d already told her friends about it, but her emotions were still overflowing, and Azriel was a great outlet to vent and recount the entire plot again.

"Yeah?" Azriel smiled as he answered, but the voice that greeted him wasn’t joyful at all.

"Hey, Az," Gwyn said, sounding furious, not in the least bit amused. "I know you’re busy, but can you pick me up from the bar?"

"Something happened?" Azriel frowned, already grabbing his keys and jacket. Gwyn just sniffled.

"No," she snapped. "I’ll explain later. Can you just come, please?"

Azriel promised to be there as soon as possible, and within twenty minutes, he was already standing in the familiar bar’s parking lot, surprised to see Cassian’s car there as well.

Stepping out of his car and meeting his friend, who should have been at work, Azriel frowned even more.

"What’s going on?" he asked seriously, trying not to show his growing concern. Judging by the fact that Cassian wasn’t smiling, things weren’t good.

"No idea," Cassian shrugged, nodding toward the bar’s black back door, which was slightly ajar, letting aggressive female voices spill out. An intense argument was going on inside.

"Nesta asked me to come, so I did, but then she yelled at me to stay out of it."

Azriel wasn’t surprised, but he glanced warily toward the door.

"What the hell, Em?" came Gwyn’s voice—Gwyn, who almost never raised her voice.

"It’s my life, I have the right to make my own decisions," another voice—Azriel guessed it was Emerie’s, though he didn’t know her well enough to be certain.

"Not when it’s a blatantly stupid decision you’ll regret," Nesta’s voice, wound tight with frustration, followed.

Cassian and Azriel exchanged glances, still deciding not to intervene, as stepping inside seemed like a deadly mission, and they both valued their heads staying on their shoulders. However, Azriel at least decided to text Gwyn that he had arrived.

A few minutes later, Gwyn burst out of the building, slamming the metal door so hard that no one would have expected such strength from her. She passed Azriel in silence, getting into the passenger seat of his car.

"I’m heading out," Azriel quietly told Cassian. He just nodded. "Call me if you find out what happened."

"If Nesta doesn’t bite my head off," Cassian joked, but judging by his worried expression, Azriel knew he was more scared for her than of her.

Waving goodbye, Azriel got into the car with Gwyn and silently drove her home. All the while, Gwyn tried discreetly to wipe away the tears that Azriel knew had come from anger. It was a reaction that annoyed her—crying out of frustration. It was uncontrollable and, from what he knew, interfered with her ability to argue effectively.

Without asking anything other than if she wanted to stop somewhere along the way, maybe to get some water or sweets, Azriel drove in silence, trying not to press her.

"Em has a girlfriend," Gwyn suddenly announced, sniffling.

Azriel stayed quiet, giving her the space to talk. Instead, he reached for the car’s control panel and turned the radio on to a low volume.

"She had a girlfriend all this time, and neither Nesta nor I knew anything about it," Gwyn continued with a note of resentment. "For years, Az! She'd been seeing someone for years, and we had no idea because she was hiding it."

"And you found out? That's why you argued," Azriel suggested.

"No, of course not! Even if that's the case, it's her business. Of course, it hurt to find out so late, but she still had the right to keep it private," Gwyn grumbled, clearly trying not to show how much it pained her. "But today she announced that she wants to move in with her. To another country! To another damn continent."

"People sometimes change their circumstances," Azriel calmly said, immediately realizing he should've stayed silent, as Gwyn glared at him. "So, what's the real issue?"

"The issue is that her girlfriend asked her not to tell anyone about their relationship. The issue is that her girlfriend is married to someone else!" Gwyn continued indignantly. "She's freaking married and still asking Emerie to move with her somewhere. Az, come on, it even sounds like some kind of scam."

She gestured wildly, and Azriel tensed a little at the description because it all sounded suspiciously familiar. Slowly, an unpleasant picture began to form in his mind, and he understood more and more why Gwyn was so worried about Emerie.

"I don’t want Emerie to waste her savings on some woman who will deceive her and leave her stranded in another country where we won’t even be able to help."

"And Emerie is resolute?"

"Yes. And it’s not even about Em," Gwyn scoffed. "Her girlfriend is shady. I only needed a few sentences to figure that out. I have a very weird feeling about her and their relationship. I don’t want to meddle in her business, but I also don’t want to lose my friend. This all sounds like a very toxic mess, and I don't like it. I want to protect her from it."

Azriel glanced at Gwyn from the corner of his eye, sensing her turmoil. He knew Gwyn wasn’t one to overreact, especially regarding people she cared about. If she had this strong of a reaction, it meant something was really bothering her.

"And what did Emerie say?" he asked, keeping his voice steady, as if trying to hold back his own unease.

Gwyn let out a frustrated sigh, rubbing her hands over her face. "That Nesta and I are overreacting. That it’s her decision, and we have no right to judge her girlfriend without knowing her. She didn’t say it directly, but I could tell she thinks I’m being controlling or something."

"And do you think… Emerie will listen to you?" he asked carefully.

Gwyn paused, her fingers twisting in her lap, her face tense. "I don’t know, Az. Part of me hopes she’ll take a step back and see things clearly, but I also know how stubborn she can be. She’s in love, or at least she thinks she is, and that’s making it hard for her to see the red flags. I just… I just don’t want her to get hurt."

Azriel could hear the worry in her voice, and it tugged at him.

"I don’t think your heated argument will change her decision," he said bluntly, sensing Gwyn hold back from rolling her eyes at his words. However, directness was something they both valued in their conversations, so he continued. "Talk again. In a calmer setting, without shouting. Poor Cassian almost had a heart attack listening to you guys outside. I don’t think that conversation was helpful for any of you."

"It was emotional," Gwyn muttered. "Imagine if I came to you and said that I had a partner all this time and I was moving away with them forever to another country. You’d be worried about me too."

"Of course, I’d be worried, Miss 'Relationships-are-pointless,'" Azriel chuckled. Gwyn reached over and playfully smacked him. Fair enough, he thought. "Kind of like how I was worried when you almost got sucked into that cult."

"I wasn’t getting sucked into a cult!" Gwyn protested. "It wasn’t a cult."

"With all due respect, Gwyn, it was definitely a cult. And back then, just like Emerie now, you refused to listen to the people around you," he reminded her.

It was a scary time. Gwyn had just lost her sister, and Azriel saw how shady people were taking advantage of her grief. He watched as the "support group" started holding meetings on Sundays, and soon, they were attending some temples that regular people had never even heard of. He saw how Gwyn believed in it, slowly sinking deeper and deeper, ignoring his warnings about how strange it all looked from the outside.

Eventually, Azriel convinced her to let him come with her to one of those meetings. Ten minutes was all he needed to hear the nonsense their "leader" was spewing. He punched the guy in the face, possibly breaking his nose or knocking out a tooth—he didn’t really check where the blood was coming from—and dragged Gwyn out of there.

"This is…" Gwyn took a deep breath. "This is different, Az. I was nineteen, not the most rational age. In this case, Emerie just needs to open her eyes to see how sketchy all this looks from the outside."

"Which is hard to do," Azriel finished for her. "You won’t be able to convince her, Gwyn. But you can always be there, so if things go south…"

"When things go south," she corrected.

"When things go south," he agreed, "Emerie will have your support."

Gwyn remained silent, clearly understanding his words, but still not ready to accept the outcome of their argument. Azriel, however, silently prayed that his suspicions about Emerie's girlfriend weren’t true because if they were, he’d owe Gwyn a long conversation, filled with details after which his friend probably wouldn’t stay still.

Damn, he was already ready to step in and try to convince Emerie how bad an idea it was to trust Morrigan. Even if he wasn’t entirely sure it was actually her she was dating.

Azriel drove Gwyn home. She was still emotional but thanked him for a ride. She offered to have him over, but Azriel declined, saying he had plans for the evening, knowing their hangouts often ended with wine, then tequila, and waking up full of regret, sometimes even in another city.

"You used to never turn down an invite," she teased, trying to lift her spirits.

Azriel played along, easing her task. "I’ve grown tired of your company."

"Oh no, you’ve just found a different company," Gwyn smirked, noticing the slight blush on his cheeks from her comment. "Look at that, I’m right. How’s your redheaded friend?"

"Couldn’t be better, always in the middle of some chaos, so it’s never boring."

Gwyn narrowed her eyes but didn’t press him further. "Well, in any case, I recommend more turtlenecks in your wardrobe. I didn’t want to say earlier, but your neck looks quite colorful."

Azriel instinctively placed a hand on his neck and snorted. "Go home, Berdara."

Gwyn only laughed at him and waved goodbye. "See you later!"

Azriel watched her until she entered her apartment complex, and only then did he drive home, smiling as he read a message from Eris that he was also heading back.

tag list: @sizzlingstarlightsky @isnotwhatyourethinking @molcat07 @chairofchaos @lilah-asteria

[atsucry]

Take a Break

synopsis: Hange is a little too immersed in their study of titans.

Hange Zoë x gn!reader

my only warning is that this might be a little ooc

tags: no smut, fluff

You and Hange have been doing well in your relationship, but lately, they've been cooped up either in their office or in a tent near the captured Titans—Sawney and Bean, as Hange calls them. They loomed over their desk all day, surrounded by scattered papers filled with doodles and writings. You worry that they'll stress themselves to death if they keep going like this—not that you disapprove of their passion or projects, far from it.

Determined to bring Hange back to reality, you march toward the camp with a lamp in hand, your hood pulled over your head. It's already past seven, and they haven't retreated yet—too focused on their research to even remember to do so.

As you approach, there were two massive marquees made especially for the Titans. Their groans rumble from within, they sleep like any other creature. You continue on to find Hange. It’s obvious where they were; a singular tent has light spilling out, and you can hear their fast murmuring from within.

Pulling back the entrance to face them, but their back is turned to you. Their hair tousled, likely from pulling and tugging at it out of frustration—that’s your best guess.

Hange jerks their head toward you, surprised, though their face also holds a sorry look. They turn fully to face you.

"Ah—Hi!—Hey…" Hange starts.

"...I apologize, but…I really can't leave this alone—"

"There’s always tomorrow," you say, knowing that convincing someone like Hange won’t be an easy task. "Come rest for the night."

"Tomorrow isn’t guaranteed. Plus—" the scientist turned back to their work, "It's not that this research is being forced on me, this is my passion and I choose to spend sleepless nights to understand these creatures." Hange beckons you to have a closer look at their discoveries on paper.

You close the curtain behind you, giving the conversation a bit more privacy.

You step a little closer before speaking out,

"Even the most passionate people let their projects rest. That spark isn't going anywhere, you understand this, yes?"

"Of course I do but—"

"That drive you have will eventually lead to your doom someday. And then who else would be suitable to fill in your role if you did? Let it rest."

They seemed to mull over your words for a bit. Hopefully, this will knock their brain back into place—without all the parts littered around in that skull of theirs. Leaning back into their desk, they prop themselves on their elbows and sigh in defeat. Taking a seat, and massaging the bridge of their nose.

The usually eccentric and intense squad leader stood in front of you, in the calmest state you've seen them in. Maybe not the calmest but the quietest.

"I'm sorry…if I worried you there." your partner spoke up, looking you in the eye as they said this. "But if that's what you want…I can't exactly refuse anything from you either." they said giving a lighthearted chuckle at the end.

"...So, will you?"

"It wouldn't kill me to take a break once in a while! Let's go."

They'd gone back to their energetic persona, pulling up their hood and grabbing the nearby handheld lamp, turning off the previous desk lamp to drown the area in darkness after keeping all of their things in one box.

"Titans really are incredible, aren't they?"

A sigh of relief escapes your mouth, glad that you'd have been able to persuade them into setting everything down.

Before retreating back to the barracks, Hange had to say goodnight to their titans, of course.

"Goodnight, Sawney, bean!"

You gave a warm smile, facing you, hange did the same.

"Titans really are incredible, aren't they?"

Note: Gusy this is my first fanfic im so scared. This is obviously not proofread so...

RAHHGGAHH writing romance feels new to me idk idk how to portray romantic feelings all that well so im jst experimenting for now...

[systastic]

Sleepover / Pillow Fort Headspace

an addendum onto this pack fur anon! —🍥

An Outsider’s View

On the outside, this realm doesn’t look like much compared to other places in headspace. NPC passerby tend to gossip about it: “What’s all this fuss about a tent made of blankets for? Can’t you make that at home?” It gets quite irritating to hear that ad nauseum… Such is the reason why the entryway to this part of headspace moves around so often. It could be set deep in the forests on one day, masquerading as part of a circus troupe the next, or found in one’s basement on the third. No matter the location of the entrance, one thing remains the same: it takes the form of a comfortable-looking blanket fort of impressive size, able to support at least a few people inside of its walls. Looking at it evokes a sense of nostalgia in your heart… Surely you can spare a few minutes to take a look around, no?

source: here!

Personal Rooms

The word “room” has a very loose definition in this headspace. When the walls, floors, and ceilings are all made of blankets and plush, it can be hard to make anything solid. Fortunately, all of the extra padding serves as an excellent way to practice individuality in other ways. Embroidering walls and pillows to signify them as one’s own is common, as is changing the colors of the lights in one’s room, the addition of plushies and stuffed animals, and creating piles of pillows to function as “sleep mountains”. Rooms can be stylized through the fabric used as well: color and style is an easy change, as is most of everything else. Privacy is a bit harder — but as long as you have a curtain to pull back over the front door, you’ll be just fine in keeping your things away from others.

source: here, here!

Court of Pillows and Plush

Most system require some level of internal communication in order to make their needs known and establish rapport among fellow headmates. This is why the Court of Pillows and Plush is so important: without it, there would be no way for headmates to congregate and have talks amongst one another. Gentle light fills the entire room from top to bottom, allowing all parties to speak on level terms without having to fight to be seen.

Being made out of fabric, blankets, and soft pillows helps to soothe unruly headmates or those with a penchant for punching things. Pillows can’t exactly complain about being hit, now can they? Fellow headmates on the other hand… Well, perhaps it’s better to stick to pillow punching for now.

source: here, here!

Lamplighter’s Workspace

Every individual light, every tiny piece of the headspace must be crafted and maintained. Thousands upon thousands of hours have gone into mastering the art of creating light. It is with these lights that the headspace flows and churns, able to keep up with the population of those who reside within it. Upon entering the Lamplighter’s Workshop, one is immediately struck by how bright it is. Motes of golden light hover and dance in the air, moving about from a simple touch of one’s fingers. Oak wood that makes up the Lamplighter’s desk is the only thing in this world not made of pillows and fabric. Trinkets and tools hang from the walls in an orderly fashion, filling up the drawers close to bursting. Other headmates may try their hand at creating new lights and altering the layout of this headspace… but without the role of architect or the prior permission of the Lamplighter, the tools can be somewhat uncooperative.

source: here, here!

The Space Between

All of these comfortable, cozy places residing within one headspace… what a wonderful paradise. It raises the question, though: how does one travel between these places? What prevents headmates from getting lost among the sheets? The answer to these is simple: not all of these places are directly connected in the same tent. Some tents have open flaps that allow residents to dip into a Dark Zone known as The Space Between. These flaps offer direct routes to other locations, making for easy access to other spaces such as the Court or to Front.

The Space Between is pitch black and near impossible to see anything in. All that can be made out is the orange glow of other rooms and the starry night sky swirling overhead. It’s recommended to avoid staying in The Space Between for too long and stick to the shortest path lest you lose yourself among the stars. Rumors say that those who become lost may hear strange voices or clipped conversation from things they aren’t meant to remember… Surely that’s just a rumor and nothing more.

source: here, here!

Extra: The Lamplighter

All things that are in existence have to have come from somewhere. The Lamplighter is that “somewhere”. It makes the light that spreads throughout the fabric walls of the headspace, spreading pieces of itself anywhere and everywhere to ward off the ever-encroaching reach of the night. It is akin to a minor deity within the bounds of headspace, keeping those who fear the dark safe. No headmates have ever seen the Lamplighter in person; in fact, some argue that it doesn’t even exist to begin with. If it does not exist, though… then who is constantly altering and maintaining this headspace?

source: here!

[suomeen]

Chapter 5: Finnishing the Year

As the year was coming to an end, we finally moved into our new apartment in a 5-story municipal building. The house is rather simple, though it has all one might need, with a storage space outside and a laundry room in the basement. There are Finns living there but a lot of the apartments are owned by the city to house refugees or immigrants so there are a lot of Ukrainians, as well as people from Arabic countries and South East Asia.

The apartment is spacious, has 2 bedrooms and a larger living room. When we first arrived, there was basically nothing in it. Just beds and closets and a starter kit of cheap cutlery, plastic plate and glass, and a few pans. A bit later we also got a few chairs and bedside tables, as well as a kitchen table. The beds are very uncomfortable but it’s better than sleeping in the corridor and waking up from explosions. It was almost strange to feel so safe.

Sharing a tiny room with your mother in your 30s is not exactly ideal. Having my own room is probably what I miss the most. In a situation like that, you soon realize that privacy is a luxury. The inherent lack of privacy was exacerbated by the fact that without much furniture, carpets or curtains, the acoustics were way too good. You couldn’t make a sound without the whole apartment knowing. The bathroom is a fucking echo chamber. To make a private call, people go outside. You can always see someone hanging out in the yard with their phones. And its not great when it’s cold as fuck outside.

The city itself has a population of just 60k. But then Finland is not a big country with only 5 million people overall. So, a city of over 50k is sizeable. It’s not exactly small in terms of area either, as most of the houses have just 1 floor and the buildings are rather sparse. It looks like a forest anywhere you go. The problem is our block is quite far from the city center so to get literally anywhere you need to walk at least 40 minutes. You can take the bus but it costs 3e and doesn’t go everywhere and only at certain hours. No buses after 6 pm and on Sundays. The city is designed for cars. Or, at the very least, bikes. If you walk to a shop through an industrial zone, you’re probably not gonna meet a single person for miles. At least our house has a big supermarket right next to it.

When we arrived to settle in, there was already another dweller. A young woman named Lina who took the other bedroom. She was a German teacher, polite but sociable. We hit it off surprisingly well.  Our first order of business was to try and make this place feel at least a little bit like home the best we could and navigate this wondrous new territory.

The NY eve was wild. Sure, we used to have fireworks in Kyiv, but they went off at midnight and only lasted for about 5 minutes. We don’t have them since the war started. Fireworks sound just like explosions, you know.  Here, the fireworks began at 6 PM and went on till after midnight. There were hundreds of them going off all around us. they never stopped. It was insane. As the day wrapped up, the 3 of us sat down in the kitchen. We didn’t even have proper drinks because we learned too late that you can’t just buy alcohol in Finland. The supermarkets don’t sell anything over 5%. For that you have to go to one of the Alko shops and there are just 4 of them in town. Besides, the alcohol is also very expensive. We drank a few cans of cheap beer and called it a night.

[autumnalwalker]

Happy STS! What is your character's favourite possession? Share a snippet about it if you like 💜

Not something I've thought about for all my characters, but for the ones that I have:

From The Archivist's Journal:

The Archivist: The journal.

Maiko: A carved figurine of a animal that the Archivist has never heard of and may not exist in the world of the Village. Apparently it's something like a dog in behavior and social role if not in form. Her mother made it for her when she was a child.

Vernon: The coat that acts as the symbol of his status as Village mediator. How he doesn't get heat stroke walking around in it in tropical weather remains a mystery to the Archivist.

From Empty Names:

Road: Their shapeshifting jacket. Although given that it's sort of alive, it might be more pet than possession.

Sullivan: His wedding ring.

Ashan: Ashan (mostly by choice) has very few worldly possessions, and those select items that he hangs onto are each precious in some way. Here's a snippet about it:

It is always a strange feeling, waking up in an unfamiliar bed.  Doubly so when you are not used to waking up in a bed at all.  Though for all that strangeness, Ashan finds himself conceding to no one in particular that it does feel nice.  The weight of the blankets, the texture of the pillowcase, such things are absent from his usual habit of simply sleeping suspended midair inside a climate-controlled privacy ward.  Perhaps his standard sleep ritual is not quite as superior to ordinary bedding as he likes to believe.

Then again, he is finding it unusually difficult to get up and moving now that he is awake.  A result of poor sleep quality induced by physical bedding or just leftover exhaustion from yesterday?  Surely he is not giving in to the indulgence of luxury.  But it does feel nice just lying here, half asleep with the blankets curled tight around him and the morning light barely filtering in through dual layers of window and bed curtains.

Take a rest.  Sleep in.  You’ve earned it.

Ashan throws back the covers and pivots to sit upright with his legs hanging over  the side of the bed, brushing against the surrounding drapery.

That is the sort of thing she would say to him on a morning like this.  Or… no?  That is what Road said last night before leaving him to retire for the evening.

Hers is the voice he imagines though.

Without the covers over him he suddenly feels terribly exposed.  Pulling the bed’s curtain aside, he reaches out, snaps his wizard’s raiment from where he left it last night and quickly slips into it.  He can count on one hand the number of times since returning to the world of his birth that he’s taken it off.  Not coincidentally, it’s the same as the number of times he’s actually bathed instead of simply magically cleaning himself and his clothes.  That had been the first complex spell his teacher had taught him and she’s ever been invented. 

If you never master another spell, at least learn this one.  Best spell that’s ever been invented. 

And yet, there was a relaxation to warm water that the spell’s efficiency cut out. 

He checks the contents of his sleeves, verifying that everything is accounted for.  Wand, white with a blended rainbow.  Coinpouch, now stuffed with more folded paper currency than coin.  Portable makeup kit, understated yet elegant in its lid’s design.  The sum total of his worldly possessions.  All gifts from her, directly or indirectly, the same as his robes.

He raises a hand to draw a mirror in the air but stops himself short.  He should not strain himself more than necessary after yesterday’s burnout.  And besides, there is a perfectly good vanity set against the wall opposite of the foot of the bed.

After opening the window blinds to let in the sunlight and a view of the estate’s gardens he takes a seat in front of the vanity’s mirror, sets down the makeup kit, opens it, selects a brush, and gets to work.

This had been a daily morning ritual for Ashan, once upon a time.  The subtle transformation of his face is not so much a masking over but a drawing out of how he sees himself.  He had tried to make adjustments when he had first gone his separate ways from his teacher - experimenting with the angle and curve of the eyeliner, going lighter on the contouring, altering the blend on colors - but it had never felt like him in the mirror afterward.  While he might have copied her style to begin with, it was his just as much as it was hers now.

Wrapping up the finishing touches and closing the box some minutes later he pauses, considering.  These days he normally ends the application with a spell to keep the makeup pristine and in place for a week or more in order to preserve the kit’s dwindling supplies that he still has not been able to find satisfactory replacements for on this world.  But there is the matter of overexertion to consider.

In the end, he returns the kit to his sleeve and heads to the bedroom door without any spellcasting.  If there is one occasion that warrants wasting a little bit of material to look his best then surely spending a day in the home of the sorceress Bridgewood is it.

[littlebosslady7]

read The Home We Built. Can you describe Grey Hunt manor more?

Sure. That story is here. I know this probably or rather most definitely isn't architecturally sensical or sound, but to be fair, it changes depending on what fits in the story.

The outside is painted in gray of course, archery range off to the side. The front door, just a single door, blue. We enter through the foyer. Sometimes the walls are plain white or a pale yellow in my mind. There's a chandelier with a wood frame and elven crystals that appear branch like.

The living room has various paintings of snowdrops and blue roses done by both Percy and Keyleth. There's racks on the wall for Vex, Wolfe, and Leona to hang their bows, arrows, quivers, and whatnots. It's never used by Vex or the kids. LOL. They have a family portrait comissioned by a young artist named Genevive above the fireplace.

The kitchen has arched, rounded windows that allow for a lot of natural light. They have a massive kitchen island, the best quality stove, and a new fangled tall ice box. The door to that looks more like wood paneling. They have a nook with a round table by the window. Arrowheads, nicks on the island, and a few old food stains when the kids didn't want to eat their vegetables give the kitchen some character.

The hallway has each of the kids rooms'. Vesper's room is a lot of pinks and lavenders. She has huge parchment posters of her favorite musical artists of a pink troll, a purple tiefling, and a blue orc in a newsboy cap. All either old timey typewriter or calligraphy font.

The twins, they share. They argue about wanting to their own rooms on occasion, but to honest neither can sleep without Wolfe's snoring or the quiet little hoots, mid-slumber wing flaps from Leona's snow owl. They do have a deep purple curtain divider for privacy. Their walls are a rich coffee mocha color. Their parents decided that so there would be no arguments. Wolfe's side has a couple fencing trophies. Books on werewolves. Crude, for a 13-14 yr old wolf drawings under his bed. He has a few crude pamphlets/comic strips he stole from Uncle Scanlan. Men, women, NB individuals posing a bit too sexy. He thinks he can hide it well, but Vex and Percy catch on it and find it when they're with their tutors. Leona has archery trophies and a couple medals on their nightstand. They have books on fey and a series about a fairy/changeling royal romace on their shelves. Their floor is covered in multi-colored bowties, arrow parts, and dusty glasses cleaner clothes. Wolfe's is even worse. The boy leaves leftover food breakfast in bowls by his alarm clock.

Danny has mint green walls, a warm mural of a cherry tree and a friendly raven in it designed by Auntie Kiki. He has a toy box filled with various animal plushes and wooden airships/carriages. He has what starts out as the size of a doggy bed for Charlie, but eventually the cub needs let's say a sturdy twin bed. Percy and Vex ocassionally take away his lock picking kit he got from Auntie Pike, but a 4 year old boy and his trusty bear have ways.

Gwen has white walls with the mural of the two moons Catha and Ruidus. She has lots of fun baby books, rattles that change color, teething rings shaped like various animals -- bears, bees, lizard bee ect. She has blocks in the Infernal alphabet and bracelets, hats, and old clothes from Aunt Zee and Uncle Kash's twin girls. Her crib has little bite marks, especially when her fangs popped out. Her mobile has the stars.

Percy and Vex's master bedroom has their massive king sized bed, but honestly it's a bit more lumpy on Percy's side cuz Vex likes to spoon with both her legs tangled around him and her ear pressed to his left pec. They have Percy's short swords above their bed, which Vex isn't always fond of. Though they have come in handy. But it's a better, tamer visual of what they used to have before kids. A painting done by Percy in silhouette of Vex naked. Percy just saves that for his sketchbook now. They have a bed for Trinket that the kids will sometimes use. Lots of long cushions and sleeping bags tucked away in the closet for the kids. Their walls are cream colored. They have a little purple love seat, blue throw pillows, and a little table/tea cart for any warm drink.

Master closet is self explanatory. His and hers side. Massive dresser in the center with a few locked drawers for sexier things/hidden weapons.

Balcony on Vex's side of the room cuz she likes nature.

Second level has Percy and Vex's home office/study/quiet space. The walls are lined with tall shelves of books about various creatures, magical fauna surrounding the Parchwood. There's a secret short door for Trinket. Percy has his telescope in there. Vex has a few maps from her scouting. They have 2 separate desk where they go over the kids' schoolwork and expenses for the castle.

Percy's workshop covered in gears, tools, ect. He has a bunch of the kid's drawings, a small vase of seasonal flowers from Keyleth, letters piled from Pike and Scanlan, a long assembly desk, a literal drawing board, and there's a dropdown couch/sofa bed tucked away in a tall metal cabinet.

Pantry is self explanatory. They do have canned doughs from Pike, healthy cereals, fresh herbs, and veg. They also occasionally store a few gifts they hate in there.

Laundry room self explanatory, though they do have huge basins with enchanted washboards.

Vex and Percy have a spare room on the lower level, where they spar. They fence for fun, or honestly they do calming breathing exercises. Can't let those battle senses dull in times in peace.

Their bathroom not as spacious as the castle, but decent copper tub, chamber pot with a beaded cord to flush their waste.

The backyard has a swingset, sandbox, and a moderately sized airship (play house). A few of the kitchen staff live in a small, but easily livable bungalow between the lake and farm.

Lastly, they have secret doors that connect to various rooms.

[flowersforbucky]

Idk if you take requests but I love the way you write older logan so I'd love it if you wrote older logan coming home after a long shift of driving the limousine to find reader wearing his flannel and how he reacts <3

old man!logan x reader - 740 ish words

thanks so much for this! i have such a soft spot for older logan 🤧💕 18+ only mdni

warnings/tags: logan refers to himself as your old man, reader can wear logan's flannel but no specific physical descriptions, not explicit but there's suggestiveness/implied smut

Tonight, you find yourself especially grateful that Caliban stays with Charles in the water tower during the night. You're always grateful for this, of course. You don't know what any of you would do without his help.

But tonight, you're even more thankful than usual.

Having picked up a few extra shifts at the diner you work at this week, you've barely had time to do anything except sleep when you've been off the clock. Therefore, dishes have piled up and you desperately need to catch up on some laundry on your day off tomorrow.

In the meantime, you wear nothing but one of Logan's old flannels that hangs low enough to cover the curve of your ass - barely.

As if that isn't reason enough to be glad for the privacy, you can't seem to stop yourself from smelling the collar of the shirt every so often, inhaling the familiar and comforting scent of Irish Spring soap and old tobacco.

You'd received a text from him stating he is on his way home almost half an hour ago, so you decided to stay awake until he gets home. In actuality, you'd seen him before you left for work this morning, but it feels like it has been days since you'd been able to do anything other than bid each other quick goodbyes as one of you comes or the other goes.

You stand in the makeshift kitchen of the abandoned smelting plant that you've come to call home, reheating the food that you brought home with you from work earlier. It's dark except for the old TV that stays on near constantly for the comfort of background noise.

You see the limousine headlights flash through the thin curtains that you'd hung up throughout the factory, and you breathe a sigh of relief that he's home as the microwave begins to ding.

He enters a few moments later, locking the door behind him before noticing you leaning against the edge of the kitchen table, next to the food that you have ready for him.

“What exactly did I do to deserve coming home to this?” His voice is tired but still teasing.

“I brought home some leftovers from the diner earlier,” you shrug, nodding towards the plate beside you. “I figured you didn't eat before you left for work.”

He shrugs out of his work jacket, unsnapping the top buttons of his white button down as he slowly walks over to you. His gaze trails from your bare legs and up to your face.

“You'd be right about that,” he admits with a short, low chuckle. “But I'm talking about you wearing this.”

He stands directly in front of you, his hands lightly tugging on the hem of his flannel that graces your thighs.

“This old thing?” You run the palms of your hands up his chest, feeling the hard bulk of his muscles from beneath the smooth material of his button down shirt. When your hands reach his throat, you clasp them around the back of his neck and pull his face closer to yours. “Need to catch up on laundry real bad, it's the only clean thing I could find.”

He hums in consideration, unable to conceal the smirk that forms on his lips in the glow of the TV light. His hands move to your lower back, pulling you flush against him before bunching the loose fabric in his fists.

“I don't think this is clean,” he murmurs against your mouth, the thick scruff of his beard tickling your jaw and sending goosebumps down your spine. You can smell the familiar hint of whiskey on his breath. “In fact, I slept in it just the other night. I'm thinking you just missed your old man.”

“Two things can be true at the same time,” you retort. You did miss him - you always miss him when work and other priorities have to take precedence over time spent together.

“Oh yeah?” He lifts you up the slightest bit by the backs of your thighs, plopping you down on the kitchen table. He nudges your knees open with his own, spreading your legs enough to wedge his body between your thighs. “How about you lay down on this table and let me show you how much I've been missing you, then?”

You glance down at the forgotten plate of food that you'd made for him - it can be reheated again later, you suppose.

••••••

thank you for reading 💕💕

[silvfyre-writings]

Too Hot (BSD Fanfic)

Bramran, bramran, bramran, I need to share the bramran with you all! Enjoy~

Ranpo was out on a case when he got the call.

“Bram-san collapsed. He’s alright, but I thought I’d let you know.”

That’s what Yosano had told him over the phone, refusing to elaborate when he’d demanded she tell her more and hanging up on him before he could truly get annoyed with her. He hates when she does that; tells him something important when he’s busy and then keeping the details hush until he can actually make it back to the Agency. It leaves him sidetracked instead of focused—or worried depending on what it is that she actually tells him—and he absolutely intends on scolding her for it.

Once he checks on Bram of course.

He steps into the Agency and looks around trying to spot either Yosano or Bram, and Atsushi points towards the infirmary.

“They’re in there, Ranpo-san.” The were-tiger says, tilting his head to the side as he listens to something that Ranpo can’t hear. “It sounds like Bram-san’s awake now.”

“Thanks, Atsushi.” Ranpo strides towards the infirmary and throws open the door without knocking. It’s not like he needs to anyway; Yosano knows him far too well to be surprised by is uncaring treatments of her door. The only time she cares is if someone actually breaks her door, which is unfortunate for a certain tiger that doesn’t know his own strength quite yet.

And sure enough, when the door swings open, Yosano’s at her desk scribbling down something he can’t see onto a sheet of paper. A report most likely, to let Fukuzawa know what supplies have been used in this most recent incident. She doesn’t look up at him as he continues to stand in the doorway, and even when he clears his throat to get her attention, she keeps on scribbling.

Ranpo’s eye twitches. “Where’s Bram-kun?”

Yosano pauses, and puts down her pen before turning in her chair to face him. She inclines her head towards the bed at the end of the room that has a curtain drawn around it to give their resident vampire some privacy. “He’s over there, resting.”

“What happened?” Ranpo asks with a frown. Bram had been fine before he’d left for his case, and he’d seemed fine before they’d come to work together.

“What happened is that you need to convince that boyfriend of yours that wearing the layers he does in the middle of summer is not a smart decision.” Yosano huffs, leaning back in her chair. “He’s got a bit of heatstroke. He’ll be fine, just needs to rest and to stay out of the sun.”

Ranpo mock salutes his friend even as he starts moving towards the bed, calling over his shoulder. “Out of the sun, got it!”

Yosano rolls her eyes at his antics before returning to her report.

The closer Ranpo gets to where Bram is resting, the more his heart begins to pound, both out of worry and because seeing Bram always makes his heart race, even after several months of the two of them dating each other. It’s so strange yet so fascinating at the same time—but now isn’t the time for him to focus on feelings. He has a sickly vampire to take care of first and that’s enough to require his full attention.

He peers around the corner to see Bram blinking tiredly up at him, and smiles teasingly at the vampire. “If you wanted to return to the Victorian era, you should’ve just said so; I could’ve asked Poe-kun to write you something.”

Bram’s tired expression turns into a glare. “I do not have the strength to deal with your jokes today.”

Ranpo’s face softens a little and he moves to sit on the edge of the bed next to Bram, noting that the vampire’s been stripped down to a much thinner shirt he certainly wasn’t wearing earlier that definitely doesn’t belong to him—Kunikida’s handiwork perhaps? “How are you feeling?”

“Tired.” Bram murmurs, slumping to rest against Ranpo’s shoulder and closing his eyes with a sigh. “Tired and hot and sick.”

“Heatstroke certainly isn’t fun, is it?”

“It sucks.”

Ranpo lets out a hum and reaches for one of Bram’s hands, holding it gently in one of his own. The skin is unnaturally warm underneath his touch, it makes Bram feel alive which in turn makes him feel wrong at the same time. Not that Ranpo’s denying that Bram is in fact, a living person, because he is; it’s just that the vampirism that plagues him causes him to run cold no matter what. “Yosano-san says you just need to rest and stay cool. Want me to bully Kunikida into driving us home?”

“Do you not have to work?” Bram asks.

“My darling vampire boyfriend is under the weather; I think that’s cause enough for me to miss a day or two of work.” Ranpo squeezes Bram’s hand, toying with the vampire’s fingers as he continues. “We can go home, turn on the cooling and just sleep the rest of the day away.”

“You will get cold.”

Ranpo rolls his eyes. “That’s what blankets are for, Bram-kun. Don’t worry about me for once, focus on yourself.”

Silence greets his words before Bram shifts in the bed to curl into Ranpo’s side, throwing an arm across his waist and pulling him close. “Okay… but can we stay like this for a moment?”

“Sure.”

By the time that Ranpo decided to wrangle Kunikida into driving them home, Bram had fallen asleep which meant he also had to nag Kunikida into carrying Bram since he was the only one tall enough to do so—aside from Fukuzawa or perhaps even Dazai but neither were in the office at the time. He’s just glad that Kunikida didn’t question him too much on the matter, just doing as he asked and driving them home with a gently call if you need anything as he carried the vampire into their shared dorm. It’s in moments like these that he appreciates his colleagues.

And now he’s leaning against the wall with a bowl of chilled water beside him as the cooling blasts cold air into the room, running a cold cloth over the skin of Bram’s still flushed face. Ranpo’s bundled up in a hoodie and sweatpants—he’s always felt the cold more so than others—but Bram’s wearing nothing but a pair of boxers. The vampire lets out a noise of content as Ranpo dips the cloth and wrings it out to drag it over his chest, and those crimson eyes crack open.

“We’re at the dorm.” Ranpo says before Bram can wake up enough to act on instincts and freak out—a normal reaction in his opinion considering everything that Bram’s been through, but apparently it’s not. “I’ve just been running cold water over you.”

Bram blinks slowly before he nods, turning to drape himself over Ranpo’s lap, burying his head into the stomach beneath him. “You do not have to do this.”

“I want to.” Ranpo reassures, rinsing the cloth and running it over Bram’s back now, tracing the scars that mar the skin there with gentle hands. He doesn’t know the story behind those scars but he is curious about them. One day Bram will tell him, but until then, he’s content with not knowing for once. And yes, he could simply deduce the answer, but Bram had politely asked him not to do that when he’d first seen them, and Ranpo respects his lover enough to not break his trust. “How did you get heatstroke anyway?”

Bram lets out a sigh. “I wanted to get Aya a gift for passing her classes. Regrettably I was in the sun for too long and I collapsed. It is fortunate that Atsushi-kun was with me when I did.”

“Did you get the present in the end.”

Another sigh. “I did not.”

Ranpo drops the cloth into the bowl and cups Bram’s cheek with his hand, leaning down to press his lips against the other’s forehead. “Well, once you’re feeling better, I’ll come with you—you know, to make sure that you don’t pass out again.”

Bram huffs a laugh, a smile on his face now. “Is this your way of saying you will become my knight in shining armour?”

“If I need to.” Ranpo says with a laugh of his own. “Somehow you keep landing yourself into trouble. Someone’s gotta keep you out of it!”

“I feel like you are the last person that should be judging me for getting into trouble.” Bram says, pausing for a moment before he continues. “But thank you, your presence would be much appreciated.”

Ranpo allows a soft smile to grace his face and he leans down a little further to brush his lips against Bram’s own. “It’s a date then.”

“It is a date.”

Word Count: 1474

[johnnymarkssh]

How to upgrade your windows on a budget?  

Aren’t the windows in your Richmond, VA, home integral to it? Don't you think they do such a great job, like providing ventilation and a beautiful view of the outdoors? Moreover, it gives your home an aesthetic look and upgrades its value too. No matter how good your window is, it will downgrade after constant use, which means you need to upgrade it soon.  

If you think upgrading your window requires a lot of investment, you are wrong. You can upgrade your window within a budget, and here is how.

Tips for upgrading your window on a budget

Paint your windows. 

Are you not sure about window replacement Richmond VA for your home? Then, take your time; if there is wear and tear, replacing the windows will be necessary. However, if not, you can simply paint the frames and sills a new color. That will breathe life into the windows, and you will not have to invest much.  

Add a window film.

The easiest way to upgrade your window is by adding window film to it. It is made of PET and comes in multiple styles, and you can choose any depending on your house’s theme. It not only enhances the aesthetics of your house, But it also makes your glass panels stronger, ensuring they are more resistant to shattering, whether it is due to weather or forced entry.

It also adds privacy to your window and blocks the light out, adding even a touch of decoration to your window while making it more energy efficient. 

Fix window hardware like latches. 

You need a window that can open and close fully. But if it is not doing so, it is because the hardware is broken, faulty, or dirty. So, what can you do? Well, the easiest way is to repair or replace the hardware instead of replacing the entire window. Check the windows for broken handles, latches, hinges, and more. You should also check the lubrication of the window to ensure everything is fine. You can hire a professional for this or do it yourself.

Give your window the curtain treatment. 

A window upgrade can happen without treating the structure. All you need to do is hang some curtains, and your home will have a fresh new look. Also, it is cost-effective, as you can get any type of curtain you like. It can be blinds, shades, or window shutters. It adds to the aesthetics, for sure. But it also helps you with energy efficiency.  

Conclusion 

Windows are crucial to your house. Richmond has unique weather, and a properly placed window helps you protect yourself from the weather and other elements. So, if you see a window that is damaged, repair it and also use the above tips to give it an upgrade.

[nicetown]

Unveiling the Magic of Outdoor Curtains

Outdoor curtains! They sound like the extravagant décor choice of someone who’s already figured out indoor curtains, doesn’t it? But here’s a fun secret: They’re more attainable, practical, and downright delightful than they might seem at first glance. Buckle up, and let’s dive into the breezy world of outdoor curtains.

A Little Privacy, Please! Imagine enjoying a sunny afternoon on your patio, but you’re not alone — your neighbor’s dog has taken a keen interest in your lunch. A quick swoosh of your outdoor curtains, and voilà, no more curious canine audience. Now you can eat that sandwich in peace.

Turn Up the Style Do you hear that? That’s the sound of your patio screaming for a makeover. But don’t worry, outdoor patio curtains are here to help. Whether you go for a tropical vibe with bold patterns or a serene oasis with soft pastels, these curtains can bring life to any outdoor space.

Sun, Meet Your Match The sun might have billions of years left in its lifecycle, but it’s no match for outdoor patio curtains. Draw them shut, and you’ve got instant shade. Who knew you had so much power over the cosmos right from your backyard?

Weather-Proof Wonders Let’s be honest, the weather isn’t always on our side. But outdoor curtains don’t mind. Come rain, wind, or shine, they’ll hang in there, proving that beauty and resilience can indeed go hand in hand.

Where Fashion Meets Function Your outdoor space isn’t just for looking good; it’s for living! Outdoor curtains can be both stunning and practical. Need to keep out bugs during a dinner party? Want to create different zones for a large gathering? Nicetown Curtains to the rescue!

Installation Adventure No need to call a team of engineers; installing outdoor curtains is like a friendly DIY adventure. Grab a friend, some tools, and a refreshing beverage, and make a fun project out of it. If you can hang a picture, you can probably hang a curtain.

In Conclusion, Oops… I Mean, to Wrap Things Up Outdoor curtains may seem like an extra, but once you explore their magic, you’ll wonder how you ever lived without them. Style, privacy, protection — these curtain warriors do it all without breaking a sweat.

So why not invite them to your next garden party? You’ll have the most stylish patio on the block, and your neighbors (and their dogs) will surely take notice. Happy curtain hanging!

[rhondaburgandy]

Curtains!

After a restless night in a brightly lit showgrounds camp, it was clear that Rhonda's super dark tint was not tint enough for sleeping, or for privacy at night time. Although she has a curtain between the front seats and the back, I was relying on the tinted windows in the back, and having nothing over the front windscreen meant I lost a lot of valuable front-seat space at night time. It's time for curtains!

Many Nissan Elgrands come with electric curtains, which is one of the reasons I first fell in love with them (I love a feature!) But Rhonda had so many other things I loved that I couldn't turn her down just for the lack of electric curtains.

I hunted around online for ideas; magnetic curtains, classic fabric hanging curtains, pre-made curtains... but I liked the idea of reflective/insulating curtains. I roughly followed instructions from a few different people online. I bought a roll of thermal reflective insulation from Bunnings for around $80.

Most windows were easy enough to create a template for, so I drew a template onto the insulation sheet and cut it out. The windows in the Elgrand have a handy lip you can tuck the insulation into so it really blocks out all the light!

Next, I spent way too long in Spotlight to choose the fabric I wanted to cover them with. I spent so long and I left without choosing.

Then I went back a week later and found Mr Right

I cut the fabric about 2cm bigger than the insulation templates, and stuck it on one side with fabric glue and a paintbrush. I also glued down the remaining 2cm overhang on the other side of the insulation. After the glue dried, I hand stitched around the corners to keep the fabric in place even if the glue didn't work. So there is one side which is still the silver insulation that faces outside, and the fun fabric faces inside.

The back window needed some extra support, so I added in some suction caps to keep it up. Here is the finished product and what it looks like going to bed. I used them at a festival that was hot and sunny, parked in the full morning sun, and they kept the van pretty cool and dark inside!

[princeblack]

she doesn't seem to believe that she has him, which makes him sad even though he understands. the way he acted last night didn't make sense... touching her the way he did, even under her skirt, only to ask her to stop when she wanted to touch him. but she doesn't know that he has the mark and it'll be dangerous for her to know about it, or even dangerous for him if she somehow decides she hates him. he doesn't think bee would ever tell anyone, but if she did, he wouldn't have time to return to the cave to swap out the horcrux with the fake he's been working on. he only knows of it because of kreacher, who was so badly wounded by the inferi that he almost died that night.

"would you forgive me if it was for a very good reason?" he asks gently, thumb tracing her cheek where her tears had fallen. "please forgive me... it was suffering enough not to have you last night. i'm very sorry i made you cry." his words are spoken softly, his other thumb wiping at the tears on her opposite cheek. "you are beautiful." he leans in, pressing a kiss to her cheek, and then another to her jaw. tilting his head, he plants the next kiss on her neck, his lips lingering there for a moment. "i'm so in love with you," he answers, kissing her skin a little lower. it doesn't feel too soon to say, because he's felt it for years now, even if he never had her.

he pulls back when her voice is serious, meeting her eyes again. "i'll tell you. but first..." he leans in again, teeth catching her earlobe to nibble it gently before pressing another kiss beneath. "please let me have you, because i can't wait another second." his hands rest on her hips, touching her as he kisses her neck again. after a moment, he slips one into her own, his fingers tangling with hers so he can hold her hand as they leave the potions dungeon. she assures him she'd follow him anywhere, which makes him flush. "then i'm lucky," he says, but privately his stomach is turning a little at the thought of baring his body and soul to her, because what if she stops wanting him when she sees what's on his arm?

he leads her a short ways to the slytherin common room, speaking the current password to allow the statued serpent to reveal the door. pushing it open to allow bee to go in first, he takes her hand again when they're walking down the stairs, past a moving set of armor and several tapestries. "i like taking you here when it's just us," he says softly. he also likes when bee hangs out with him, draco, astoria, blaise and the others. but there's something about getting to show her the common room alone, when it's just the two of them, that makes his heart race. it feels intimate, showing her his home like this. "would you join me in my bed?" he wants to do the spell there, after they pull his privacy curtains, to give them a place to talk without being heard.

she didn't mean to break down in front of him but it's because she still felt safe enough with him to do she knew that she could cry in his arms and that he would protect her from all the bad in the world, that he would hold her until the bad things went away and even if things weren't great between them because of last night she hopes that doesn't change, she still wants him around.

he calls her his sweet girl, his strong arms wrapping around her making her feel small but in a different way from theo, her body relaxing at the scent of old books and lavender as her fingers tighten into the back of his robe a bit. "but I don't have you, not all of you at least...you're still keeping me at an arms length." she wants to know him, be close it him. it's not just about sex but it still almost makes her wonder if he wanted her at all because of the way he pushes her away in some ways and confuses her with these desires. so it takes her by surprise when he so bluntly tells her he not only wanted to fuck her in they class romm but he still wants her even now. cheeks blushing intensely as she can hear the sound of her own heart beat. she still wants him too which is almost embarrassing because that just makes her wonder more why he pulled away from her. "you sure have a funny way of showing it considering I basically had my legs spread open for you last night..." she tries to joke light heartedly but a hint of sadness was still in her voice. trying not to think about how good his mouth felt breathing soft whispers against her ear.

bee realizes menthing daphne kind of makes her sound pathetic but it's hard not to be a little jealous of the one girl who had regulus, who got to love him and touch him in ways that bee only longed for. it twists her stomach and fills her with something dark as she thinks of it, she kind of hates daphne greengrass for being able to know what it feels like to be his. but regulus instead of scolding her comes to cup her face, his cool ring against the cheek, getting rid of the nasty feel theo had left there as he looks down at her with his piercing green eyes as he asks her if she knew how the pair broke up.

"astoria kept that detail out..." she says softly with a chuckle. the sweet girl tried to be friends to both, she only imagines how annoying it got hearing the two of them. her eyes soften as he tells her the story, how he broke up with astoria over her and how he thought of her every second. she bites down on her lower lip a little as he presses his nose with her own, wanting to kiss him as her hands lay on his chest and he tells her that he loves her. "really?" she smiles, arms wrapping around his shoulders. "you're in love with me?"

it makes her giddy but it doesn't explain why he was fighting both her and seemingly himself of just being together. she looks at him sadly as he once again gives her this cryptic explanation but this one scares her a little as he tells she that he could get killed if he shows her. she shakes her head a little, frowning at his words. "I would never say anything to put you in danger reggie but whatever it is...just tell me, let me help you or at least be there for you." she frowns. she wants to help him, to support him because whatever it is she knows it isn't his fault.

she liked the slytherin common room, had only been there a few times because she and astoria would team up to study or she would go to hang out with regulus or draco. she liked that their windows say in the lake, getting to see the water and supposedly mermaids as well. it was also just cool and comforting kind of like regulus. she smiles sadly, nodding gently. "I'd follow you anywhere."