#the thought of that this will go on at least until mid march makes me want to cry ngl 😖

[zevrans-remade]

me omw to work today like

[justwinginglife]

hello sjbsjshs just wanna ask how u would write hoshina if they had a big argument with his s/o

Thanks for all the requests, my lovelies! I got swarmed with them so I'm doing them all in order- thanks so much for trusting me with your prompts and thanks for being patient!

Offense & Defense

The first few months you'd dated the Vice Captain had been surprisingly uneventful at work, leaving more time for the two of you to flirt in passing or make out behind closed doors. If you had a mission, it was nothing more than a couple of stray yoju or an unimpressive honju. Of course, Hoshina would still examine you thoroughly after the fight to make sure you weren't hurt anywhere, but again, there was nothing to worry about- it was another pleasantly uneventful day for the Third Division.

You thought this honeymoon phase would last forever, the two of you sneaking glances at each other in between doing paperwork, and then finally making the decision to shove the paperwork aside in favor of doing each other instead. In fact, you'd been mid-moan when the red alert went up throughout the base.

You watched carefully as Hoshina slipped his suit back on and turned on his comms, listening intently to the information that was being relayed to him. He began cursing and quickly tugged on his shoes and you knew it couldn't be good. You joined him in suiting up, waiting anxiously for him to finally update you about the situation.

He waited for you to finish dressing but he led you down the hallway in silence, his face stony and unreadable.

You squeezed the hand that was dragging you. "Baby. Baby what is it? What's the situation?"

He remained silent until you came to a full stop and yanked on his arm. He huffed at your stubbornness. "Just- just stay at the back okay?"

You raised an eyebrow. "What do you mean 'stay at the back,' what are we facing?"

His eyes finally met yours and though they were cold and unwavering you swear you saw a flicker of something else. "It's a Daikaiju. Stay at the back." He commanded again, his voice more firm.

You were about to protest when a platoon leader came to join the two of you on the march to the transports. You stayed quiet as the two of them discussed strategy. Then Hoshina said something that pissed you off.

"-and whatever you do, do NOT let Officer L/N anywhere near the front lines." He sternly instructed the platoon leader. He was talking about you like you weren't right there. Like you couldn't handle yourself. Like you didn't want to be right there beside him, fighting until the end. The platoon leader nodded at his orders and you wanted to argue but Hoshina split off from the two of you, saying he needed to meet up with the Captain. Your sense of duty got the better of you and you let him go.

You and the platoon leader filed into one of the transports with the rest of the officers. As the car rumbled along, you gripped your gun, trying to steady yourself. How could he just order you around like that? You knew he was your superior officer but you thought that he'd at least utilize one of his best officers. Now he was putting you on the bench like some rookie when you knew damn well that you would be useful to him. So why was he forcing you to sit this one out?

You reached your destination and were irritated to find that there wasn't even a single wandering yoju in sight for you to take your frustrations out on. You weren't just at the back of the line, you were at the back of the back. You cursed Hoshina aloud and hoped he could hear you over the comms. But if he heard, he didn't let on because all you heard was the slight crackle of static in response.

You looked around at the irksome sight before you. Some officers were chatting and laughing like they had nothing better to do, some officers were sitting down relaxing while they waited out the battle. No one was patrolling, no one was at the ready. They knew they were on the sidelines and they accepted it. You refused to accept it.

You snuck around the block- you didn't need to sneak, no one was paying attention- and made your way to a more action-packed sector, blending in with the officers there as if you had been assigned alongside them. It was still far from the Daikaiju but at least you could take out a Honju or two and satisfy this growing need to beat the shit out of something.

To your dismay, you spilled their organs on the streets in a matter of minutes, their splattering corpses doing nothing to quench your thirst. You worked your way closer and closer to the center of the action and you wondered how pissed Hoshina would be to find you here, but you quickly shook the thought away, he should be thinking about how pissed off you were not the other way around.

But all anger and frustration went out the window when, after clearing some more yoju out of the way, you caught a glimpse of the Vice Captain. There he was, taking on the Daikaiju like he didn't have a problem with the giant class, dashing around as though he wasn't battered and bleeding heavily. Where the hell was the Captain?

You glimpsed a flash of white and saw her running with Bakko into position in her sniper's nest. She couldn't take the shot without him getting the Daikaiju into position, but if it was just him drawing the beast's attention he was going to get himself killed. That thought riled you up more than anything else. You refused to let him die, not without you by his side at least.

You raced up the stairs of a nearby building and perched atop a window ledge, shooting at the beast's throat. You knew you'd just given away your position, both to the kaiju and to the angry Vice Captain below.

"What the HELL are you doing?" You heard him yell from the ground but you kept firing, drawing the beast's attention.

This time you heard him in your ear, screeching through the comms. "I told you to stay AT THE BACK!!"

You barely had time to think of a witty comeback when the Daikaiju whipped a hand in your direction, smashing through the building. You jumped and landed on his hand, running up his arm, thinking to yourself Hoshina was going to kill you if this monster didn't. You almost laughed at the thought. This whole mess could've been wrapped up a lot sooner if he'd let you help from the start.

You were almost at the beast's shoulder now, gun still rapidly firing at any spot on him that seemed vulnerable. Hoshina took advantage of the beast glowering at you using him as your own personal jungle gym, he slashed at the beast's legs and got him down on his knees. You knew the Captain could take the shot now and you better get out of her way. You slid down the beasts back, pulling out a knife and plunging into its flesh to slow your fall to the ground.

Captain Ashiro landed several devastating blows and suddenly the Daikaiju was down. All was well until it wasn't.

Hoshina was now marching towards you with a clear purpose in mind. But you weren't about to back down either, remembering just how pissed you were to have been forced to the side.

"Didn't I tell you to stay at the back? Why the FUCK are you here??" He bellowed, gripping your wrist tight and yanking you towards him so you could face him properly.

You met his fierce gaze with a glare of your own. "And why the FUCK would you keep one of your best officers at the back?"

Your attitude sent him seething. "I'm your COMMANDING OFFICER, you do WHATEVER I TELL YOU TO!"

"And I'm your GIRLFRIEND, you don't get to act like a DICK."

The heat around your wrist grew as he dug his fingers deeper into your skin. The pain was nothing compared to the anger you felt. You took his simmering silence as an excuse to keep going. "You almost DIED, you IDIOT! Don't you know how that makes me feel knowing you would've died and I could've done something about it??"

"Do you have so little faith in me that you think I would've died that easily??" He said through clenched teeth.

You scoffed and wiped blood from his forehead, waving the dripping finger in his face. "Don't be so arrogant, you're injured, and it could have been much worse."

"But it wasn't because I can handle myself." He spat.

You rolled your eyes. "You and your fucking ego. Just let me help you damnit."

"And let you die? I refuse."

You laughed at that, causing him to glare at you even more. "Do you have so little faith in me that you think I would've died that easily?" You quoted him, mockingly.

He huffed. "Shut up. I just..." He sighs, the anger slowly dissipating from him. "I just can't stand... the thought of you dying." His voice is almost a whisper now.

You were stunned. You didn't think he would admit something so sweet like that in the middle of a fight. You took his other hand in yours. "But I won't die because I'll have you watching my back. So let me watch yours next time." You murmured softly, pressing your forehead up against his and relaxing against him.

He sighed again. "You win. You always win. I'm sorry." He pulled you into a tight hug. You rubbed his back as he held you.

Everything would be okay as long as you two had each other.

[treedaddymcpuffpuff]

BENEATH MILES OF STONE. XXI ;

🪙 chapter map 🪙 John Wick x Fat Fem Reader 🪙 the very delayed next chapter. i think this story was last updated in march. you guys don’t know how mind blown and grateful and giddy i am to have people connect with me over words and interests and the things i write. please enjoy and let me know what you think and pay attention to trigger warnings. 🪙 TW ; nsfw, violence

John’s a man of his word. Exactly 24 hours after he promises to fix things, and after 24 long hours of being tailed around an assassin hotel by at least eight bodyguards who, thankfully, know the meaning of personal space, he has a solution. 

A solution that he is scowling while telling her about. She tries to ease some of his rage while he talks, takes his boots off and ghosts her fingers up and down his bare back. 

He flips her hand over in his own, examining the pretty metallic black coated over her nails. “Who did this?” 

“Addie,” she says, smiling. “I really like her.” 

He smiles fondly at the shimmery hue. “Making friends?” 

A little giggle and eye roll, and he shudders when she reaches a particularly tender spot. How can she resist spidering back over it?

The uncontrollable way he bucks against her is insanely endearing, her soft touch more potent than bullets, apparently, and she can’t help but tease him about it. “I think I found your kryptonite, John.” 

He tackles her mid-chortle, puts her on her tummy and pins her there. 

“Can’t you just let me winnnn?” She kicks her feet into the mattress. 

“There you go again,” he muses, contemplating tapping the squirm out of her ass. Or biting into it, leaving the ident of his teeth on the plump, pretty flesh. “Trying to use cute as an advantage.” 

“Is it working?” She asks, looking over her shoulder at him. 

“Little bit.” 

God, she’s fucking adorable. It’s painful, this desire to gobble her up, sweeten his belly with sugar and everything nice. “I get this feeling sometimes, that you don’t want to be touched? And if you don’t, that’s okay…But you can tell me.” 

And what would be the harm, especially since she already seems to be inside of him so deeply he’ll never be able to unstick all her pieces from his marrow.

“I want you to touch me,” he says, aching at the prospect of her withholding that. “But I’m not used to it.” Even when he’s fighting, the number of times opponents land a hit are paltry in comparison to his own, and even then he barely feels it. 

Nothing like how soft she is with him. She is the direct opposite of what he’s used to; maybe that’s why he’s so love drunk, enraptured with the novel flavor of compassion. He grimaces at the dimpled red skin on the backs of her thighs, remnants from his rough facial hair, soothes over them with his thumb, unintentionally tickling her. 

“I’m sorry,” she says, squirming under him. “Just tell me if you get uncomfortable, okay?” 

“Okay.” He decides to go back in, because the thought of her avoiding him because of this debacle is terrifying. “I’m not used to losing. I’m not used to giving up control. I’m not good at it.” His monotone catches on a rare high note, and she blinks blankly at him for a moment.

“Have you ever been tied up?” 

He laughs at her suddenly shy, averted gaze. “Yes, I have.” 

“And you can get out of it pretty easily, I’m guessing?” She’s only teasing a little bit, prodding at his inhumane skill levels. 

“Your guess is right.” 

“So, have you ever been tied up in a way you can’t get out of?” 

“Yeah.” 

“You want me to, yknow, tie you up? Make it so you can’t win?” Nervous and writhing, quickly amending this. “You don’t have to, just if you want. I don’t wanna force you into anything and I—“

But he’s lost a little focus, thinking about being at her gentle, teasing mercy. About being bound and open for her, this small, kind thing intent to torture him with sweetness. His cock hardens until it leaks. “I would love that.”

“Yeah?” She asks, beaming up at him. 

He swallows. “Yeah.” 

He lets her up, smooths her hair back, kisses her head. “I need you to come to dinner with me. The Tarasov’s want to meet you, and they will keep you safe if I’m unavailable.” 

“Does Viggo need eight men to replace you, John?” She kisses his palm, thinking of the men in suits trailing her earlier, of the different ones now standing outside of their room. 

“I’m invaluable to him.” There’s really no cocky inclination to that, just a deep guttural sadness, a regret even. 

She pushes his hair back behind his ear. “Viggo needs you.” 

He nods. 

But I want you. This she keeps to herself, watching his lips ghost her knuckles. 

“Does this mean I get to go back to my life? Still with you in it?”

“Yes,” he tells her. “And if I find a way to keep you with me that’s safe, I’ll never leave you.” 

“I’m sorry I’m being like this, but I have responsibilities to other people. Other things. My patients, Michael—“

He shushes her with a peck to her top lip. “I know.” 

“Hm.” She smiles at him, wide, pretty eyes twinkling. “If I’m gonna tie you up, you gotta teach me how.” 

Chuckling a dark kiss to her forehead, he hums in agreement. “Do you have anything formal in your closet?” 

“Define formal?” 

“Dresses.” He pauses, imagining her in a pretty sundress, and his brain gets fuzzy again. 

“John,” she calls, snapping him back into reality. “What kind of dresses?” 

He really is distracted. Rubs the back of his neck, knows what he would like to see her in, something satin and clinging, accentuating her curves just enough to keep him from strangling anyone that looks too long, and then, to match, and underneath, only for him, sheer feminine lace. 

She tries to wait for him to become functional, and loses her patience. “I only have one dress and it’s off shoulder, knee length, flowery. Actually, I dunno if it even fits. It’s from a long time ago…college graduation, I think.”

He longs for the days where his cock was under control. She tries not to notice, eyes looking anywhere but down. 

“Is…that okay?” Big eyes, pursed lips, hopeful little smile. Additionally, then, he longs for the days where his heart was under control. 

“Let’s go get it,” he says. 

——————————————-

Thankfully, and despite lurid, bright visions of her modeling that coveted, pretty college dress for him, he manages to willpower his cock soft before they enter into her apartment where her roommate is busying himself in the kitchen.

“This is him?!” Michael is suddenly very angry, although the other two are very confused as to why. He spins around, and the flour on his neon pink apron fluffs around him. 

Michael marches up to the taller man and points a powdery finger into his chest. “You! John! You’re fucking around with my friend’s feelings?!” 

Before she can intervene on this interaction, Michael does something stupid, unexpected, and altogether horrifying: He slaps John in the face. 

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

WIBTA if I told a very poor person to stop asking me for money?

(🧍‍♂️💸 for ez finding, names are fake for obv reasons)

I (21, any prns) met Pink (21, she/they) in a fandom-specific RP server about a year ago. Everyone was (and still is) very nice, including Pink, the server owner. Pink and her family are very poor, barely even making rent, and she often plugged her donation posts in the server announcements channel (this happened a lot. at one point there was even a donations channel just for her). I didn't really mind because desperate times call for desperate measures, ya gotta do what ya gotta do, y'know?

About nine months ago (mid september) I decided to pay something for her (it was either the remains of her rent or her meds, I forgot which). I did it because I felt like it, and it wasn't much. I figured if I could make someone's life a little easier, I might as well. Then about a month later (last week of October) she DM'd me, also about meds. She seemed apologetic and honestly kinda desperate. I figured if she was going this far it was probably by necessity, so I sent money again. She asked about paying me back, but I declined the offer since when I give people money I pretty much expect it to be Gone lol. She asked me again for money twice within that week for some Emergency Essentials. I obliged the first time but gently refused the second. I work retail, I'm not made of money...

She didn't contact me again about this until early December, due to an overdraft. I declined because of a vet appointment and also Xmas shopping. Plus, I was in kind of a tight spot myself at the time (from around Nov-March I had to be really careful with my spending). She asked again in mid-December for rent money, to which I obliged. It was the last time I gave her anything. She then had *another* rent emergency at the very end of December, which I refused because I Have Bills. I should mention that some of these emergencies were not posted publicly (i.e. in the server) - she was asking me, personally, for help. Nobody else, at least as far as I know. Maybe she DMs everyone who sends money her way. I have no way of knowing.

In mid-January she asked me again for rent money, to which I politely declined due to my own financial struggles, and stated that I probably wouldn't be in a better position to donate until April. She seemed to understand and wished me well.

...until recently. She's made a habit of asking me for money again. Not as frequently as before (about once every 2-3 months. she did this in late May and again around march), but it does happen. I thought about telling her off the first time, but I wanted to compose myself lest I say something really mean, but by the time I felt like responding, she deleted it. Maybe she realized it was embarrassing? I don't know. This also happened with the May message. I was super inactive in the server by then due to being busy with Life Stuff. I've wanted to chat in it again lately because everyone else (including Pink, at least in overall demeanor) but it's kind of awkward when I have the literal owner DMing me for cash every few months.

At this point, I'm at the end of my rope. I want her to stop. It makes me seriously uncomfortable how she only ever contacts me to ask for money. Not even my closest friends of almost a decade - who also have financial struggles of their own - would ask me personally for money, and Pink is barely more than a friendly acquaintance. But at the same time I know she's only doing any of that *because* her situation is so desperate. Desperate times call for desperate measures, and it feels rather two-faced to turn my back on her now.

WIBTA?

[herejusttosufferalong]

As someone new-ish (mid June) to Polin / LN and having tried to read up on everything L/N related since then, esp. all the proposed timelines, I’m tbh still getting confused about timelines and (for me new) info that gets shared in the comments that sometimes seem to contradict timelines/speculation I found myself agreeing with before so I’m helping someone can just clarifying some things timewise for me.

In your timeline, you mentioned believing N was dating someone (I assume E) until March/April 2023.

N & L were in Australia in April and after coming across too comfy/intimate, their teams put out a people’s magazine article about them only being friends and supportive co-stars and not dating, and N reiterating that by calling L friend and dude when she posted about their Austrialia stop (if I read some comments correctly?)

Then on May 5 (as per a comment) N shared the song Kaleidoscope …which I have only today read the lyrics for and oof…esp. the first part hits hard. Depending on perspective (delulu or not) this could apply to E (if we assume it was him she prob. dated) or L.

The part ‘And if you change your mind, I will understand, And it'll just take time, To go back to being friends’ made me think of E turning up again now promo is over and hanging out with N & her friends & JD as mentioned on this blog. Like they broke up, he went off to film Witcher, N continue on her Polin Press Tour and now they are back in each others orbit (as friends?)

Also if it was for E, the ‘just co-stars’ people article could have been not just to the audience but also to try and pacify E (& A)?

Though I think I remember reading you mentioning in one of your answers you thought all her song choices during the tour were about L. How would you interpret that song fitting into your timeline of things? Admittedly that line in the song about ‘crossing lines’ made me think about L. But then again that song would make it seem like L rejected her and chose A over her which a. doesn’t seem believable b. really doesn’t sit well with me.

And wasn’t it around the same time the ‘inStyle stunt’ happened in which L was an active participant (so it wasn’t just A)? Like he felt the article wasn’t enough and he wanted to hint at A being his companion (albeit having to stay in the bathroom)

Then to make things even more confusing it was mentioned that L and his team - after the inStyle thing - put out articles about him being single (not just not dating N) …which still makes no sense to me tbh.

Then Italy happened with the inital tension btwn L/N (including a clip you posted trying to lipread what they were saying, where I also read as her saying I fucking hate this & him responding [shut up] and smile. Followed by them looking all cozy again.

Then A turned up at the NY premiere with his sister/mom - which plus him taking her to the London premiere as well - kind of contradicts one of my previous thoughts (in trying to make sense of it all) that L was asked to hide or at least not publicize A during the press tour to sell Polin (bc they were worried with all of the hate Polin/NL apparently were getting since they were announced …which, I digress, I am really glad to have missed bc WTF). If that was the case, I don’t see Shondaland/Netflix wanting her to be at the premiere?

Then there was EKR chaos dinner and some DM article about L having kissed someone. I read before about EKR stepping in immediately and saying it didn’t happen, but I only just now read that he mentioned L having a GF and to take that down (again partly to pacify A like after Australia?). EKR knew about A and L having a GF (maybe L talked about her at the dinner seeing how she wants to be an influencer etc) and basically outed L as having a GF, all while his team had put out articles about him being single.

And then the games continue ending with the London pap walk and DM/Backgrid/People’s mag articles showcasing A and trying to sell her as his ‘rumored’ GF. (Which all don’t mention her age, while DM likes to post about N possibly dating a younger man.) Articles, even if they are from A’s team, L or his publicist (if he currently) has one, is not contesting or denying.

Meanwhile the SM games from L’s friends/A/S continue and make it seem like they are all trying to help A get a job/more exposure/ recognition. This latest trip seemed to be both to celebrate R’s bday and relax all together plus get some pics/hints of A/L and articles to get A’s name out there again…Still looking really awkward in those pap pics…’Passionate embrace’ indeed 🤦‍♀️ but from other pics I saw (involuntarily as they were posted on my twitter tl) he looked relaxed and happy celebrating R’s bday with A around. The group also - besides the first days of pap pics and exposure - seemed to spend their time on a boat privately together which I would imagine being very awkward if things were not alright/unraveling btwn them. I also don’t for a minute think he’s not aware of what A and his friends post and I do think he’s ok with it as long as they keep certain boundaries as mentioned by others in the comments.

Again two perspectives - the unraveling one, helping her get what she wants so L can untangle himself from her slowly, which I would prefer, or the other one, after her having to play stuck in the bathroom all year, him trying to be a caring BF, feeling he should make it up to her (also for still not wanting to officially claim her bc he probably knows it would create another shitshow for her and him, which would help neither of them careerwise) making it a priority to help her out with her career while waiting for fandom to get over pap walk and them being together (while still hopefully for his sake also trying to work on his career and not just hers).

Is that order of events correct or did I confuse/miss something?

Does it all still fit within your timeline and thoughts that the unraveling might be starting/coming sometime soon?

And do you think that N - if she was/is hurt or annoyed by L/the whole narrative since the London premiere, whether it is professionally and as close work friend or as more or if she herself is dating someone - will try to keep a distance from L (both on set as well as on her SM even during filming and promo) to not instigate more L/N talk (esp. if L keeps A around) and focus more on posting this season leads plus Claudia when back on set?

.

[kairiscorner]

19

(reblogs are greatly appreciated, it helps get my content out there! if you guys like what you see, please reblog it too <:D)

thank you anon :> ok, so this one is a doozy (i fucking cried inside):

comforting gwen

summary: gwen's in her own world again, thinking about the stuff that's happened in the past, beating herself up for it, and... you're worried. you're extremely worried for her. you want to help her so badly, but the right push for you to help was when you witnessed her storm out of band practice with tears welling up in her eyes.

word count: 1,973

the clanging of cymbals and the drumming on the snare abruptly stops mid-performance. the bass, electric guitar, and lead vocalist going on without her for a few seconds, until they notice their beat was lacking something. they turned around to face her. she was slightly pale, her light blue eyes widening as her eyebrows curved upward to display her discomfort, her desire to just vanish from there right now as her drumsticks fell from her clutches, her grip lessening as the feeling overwhelmed her; engulfing her life a big wave she can't even see the top of. it was back again, that horrible, horrible aching feeling that consumed her.

her breathing was ragged, her hearing just became ringing. she could barely make out the muffled and overlapping voices of her bandmates as she mumbled a, "not again" hastily, over and over as she gripped her head, feeling a heavy weight on her chest and back as she hunched over, tears welling up in her eyes as she felt her breathing become more and more labored.

"stacy, you okay--" asked one of her bandmates as they extended their hand towards her, but she slapped it away. with a furious look on her face as her eyebrows knitted together, and her mouth contorting into an uncharacteristic scowl. "leave me alone!" she shouted as she got up, and as her bandmates rushed to the aid of the one whose hand she slapped away, a split second of regret for what she did in her hazy, ambiguous bout was seen; which was quickly replaced by a new kind of disgust and anger: towards herself for feeling this way.

you soon entered their practice hall, hoping to catch gwen and ask her if you could take her somewhere nice tonight, but the moment you came in was the moment she stormed out. "watch your girl, she's been pretty out of it lately." said the vocalist of the mary janes. "'pretty out of it'? she slapped me when i was trying to help her!" exclaimed her bandmate whom she slapped their hand away.

"she...? oh no..." you thought aloud as you rushed to the direction where she stormed off, hoping she wouldn't do anything crass or anything she'd regret. you looked around for her, searching everywhere within the vicinity, calling her on her phone, only to hear buzzing against the ground. you found a flashing light from a stray phone, seeing a photo of you from her 14th birthday with cake shoved in your face with a lopsided, crumpled birthday hat on with a playful smile on your face.

this was gwen's phone.

"shit, not again... oh, gwinny..." you muttered to yourself as you called out for her, picking up her phone and hoping with all your might that you could find her this time, that she wouldn't be consumed by whatever she was feeling right then and there.

soon enough, as the sun was setting over the horizon, with the purple and pink hues in the sky stretching across the city, engulfing it in the eye-pleasing backdrop, you finally found gwen inside a small thicket by the farther parts of the building. she wasn't that deep in, but to get here, she must've walked an excruciatingly long distance.

you climbed up wordlessly as you felt the crunching of dried up orange and brown leaves from underneath the soles of your shoes and the crushing of smaller rocks as you marched up to talk to gwen, or at least, to see if she was doing better than how she was before.

gwen had her legs folded up to her chest, her arms folded on her knees as she pressed her forehead against them. she always got in this position whenever she felt... overwhelmed. you could remember the first time you saw her like this was after the death of her friend, peter parker.

you knew the guy, and you knew how much gwen loved him as a friend; the two were nearly inseparable, and you respected that. and to have him taken away from her like that... you could only imagine what kind of suffering she went through when she held his dying body, his eyes' colors fading away as she clung on to the hope that he'd live--she could do something, she had to have done something... right?

gwen perked up her head when you came closer, and soon, she saw your concerned expression looking down at her. "are you, um..." you mumbled, trying to find the right words to ask, because situations like this hardly have any "right words" to say. gwen looked down at the assortment of pebbles and brown leaf bits by her feet and shrugged. "it happened again." she uttered in a soft voice.

you sat down by her side wordlessly as you waited for her to initiate the talking first. gwen was... hopeless with words, especially in situations like these. and hey, so were you, but you never made stuff like this all about you, you never spoke for her when she needed to figure out just what was happening to her, you'd never, ever do that.

gwen breathes in deeply and holds it in for a few seconds, before letting it out with a ragged sigh, evoking tears to come out from the ends of her eyes, realizing she'd been holding that breath and a few tears in, which she was only willing to let out when you were there. just you.

after a few minutes of awkward, yet much needed, silence, gwen finally spoke up. "i don't know why this keeps happening, i should be over it... right? like, it... it happened so long ago. i shouldn't be affected by it anymore, at least, not this much... right?" she asked you as tears rolled down her cheeks, her eyebrows knitting together as her frustration with herself became more and more palpable.

you put a hand on her shoulder. "gwen, it's oka--" "don't." she cuts you off as she looks away from you, shutting her eyes as more tears came rolling down her cheeks and staining her shirt. "please don't tell me 'it's okay', it's not." she muttered as she got back in the position you found her in the moment you came across her after storming out.

she tried breathing in, but she exhaled it in a sob. "i'm glad you care, but please don't tell me it's okay because it's not. it's like his ghost'll always affect me, and that..." she trailed off as she looked down at her palms, as if the answer to her mental turmoils would be drawn across the skin of her palms. "...that's pathetic, isn't it?" she asked you as she turned to look at you, her bottom eyelids reddening and her nose and the corners of her lips quivering.

you shook your head. "no, it's not pathetic, it's... it's a sign you still care." you tell her as you brush her bangs out of the way of her face, the ends of her hair a tad bit wet from her tears staining it. you looked at her with such softness and care in your eyes, you wished you could take all her burdens, all her pain, and make it yours so she wouldn't have to suffer anymore.

gwen couldn't retort your logic, she knew it just as well as you did: she never stopped caring for peter, and his death affected her in so many ways, because she felt like her not having saved him, him wanting to be special, just like her, caused his death.

she feels like she killed him, and that feeling grew the more she realized she lived and he died.

gwen soon let out a louder sob, finally releasing all the feelings she's kept pent up ever since that day. you inched closer to her, and as she leaned against you, as she sobbed and sobbed her heart out. because of how many feelings she had neglected, how many thoughts she repressed were finally coming out like a flood, she cried louder and louder, as if she were screaming out her pain into the air for her cries to be heard--to be understood.

you wrapped her around your arms gently so as not to startle her, and you held her close. you let her cry over your shirt, it was just a shirt anyway, but what she felt... she wasn't just carrying feelings, she was carrying memories and thoughts with her that made her hate herself; she carried with her burdens no one will ever understand, maybe not even you would ever understand the full extent of.

you held her close and told her to let it out, for that was the best you could do. and even if gwen couldn't tell you right then and there that she appreciated your help, so, so much, her clinging on to you as she sobbed and holding you tightly was all the thanks you were satisfied with. she felt so comfortable with you, so vulnerable, so real with you.

"i'm scared... i might lose you, too. i don't know what'll, what'll happen to me if you..." she stammered out, her lips quivering as she blinked away her tears. you smiled softly at her as your eyebrows curved upwards in reassurance. "you don't have to worry about me, and i know... you might tell me you don't want to hear it, and i respect that. but i promise you, i'll look out for myself for you; and i'll always look out for you." you comforted her as you brushed your hand across her cheek with a reassuring smile.

"but please, promise me you'll worry about yourself, too." you reminded her as your smile slowly faded away. gwen's tears slowed down and halted from rolling down for a minute, she wiped the remaining tears away as she breathed in a shallow breath. "nobody understands a thing. nobody knows who you really are if you keep putting up walls between you and them." gwen utters in a soft voice as she rests her head against your shoulder.

"and you know what? i'm okay with that." she murmured as her voice cracked. "i'm not crazy for thinking i don't belong with a lot of people if their goal is to make friends. i might be crazy though for thinking... i can keep going on like this." she admitted as she looked up at you, who had been looking down at her all the while as she was speaking.

"if you ever feel like... the world's coming down upon you, crashing down on you and all... i'm right here for you." you tell her with a gentle smile. "i might never fully understand what you felt that day, what you continue to feel, and what you'll ever feel about that day, but... i've got you. you can talk to me." you reassure her, and at those last five words, gwen wraps you into a tight embrace, her thanking you and apologizing for getting you wrapped up in all of this.

"thank... you. i'll try, i'll try to... to accept it. and i'll... i'll take care of my...self better." she whispers to you, which you smile at as she hugs you back. she doesn't do friends anymore, but... you're the sole exception, you've been there for her since forever, and she's glad you'll extend staying with her even if she gets like this, gets scared, and confused, vulnerable and weak from her horrible thoughts and memories. she loves you more than how one would say they love a lover, more than how they say they love their parents or siblings or friends; she loves you with a love that heals and comforts, even if the scars of the past continue to throb at the most untimely moments.

a/n: GWEN I LOVE YOU PLEASE DON'T BE SO HARD ON YOURSELF AAAAAAAAAAAAA

tags !! @thecoolerdor @miguelswifey04 @luvstarrstruck @maxoloqy

[daydreamgoddess14]

Support System pt. 4

MASTERLIST

CH1 | CH 2 | CH 3

Roy Kent x Reader

I'm on a roll. Roy Kent making me feel things 🥵 This one is a bit angsty but buckle up - we're getting to the good stuff soon!

Chapter 4

Some call it wallowing, some call it self pity, some call it licking your wounds. You don’t give a shit which one it is, you spend the whole of Sunday morning on your sofa under a blanket alternating between tears of shame and being angry at your own stupidity. In what possible world would former footballer and dater of models - actual, beautiful, magazine fronting models, Roy Kent, really want to kiss a single mum in their mid (cough *late*) -thirties? You honestly have to consider the fact that you’ve lost the plot. The fighting and arguing late last year took its toll on you, the split early in December actually helped, but also kind of… didn’t? And now you’re in a position where you can finally make the best of the separation and the first chance you get, you royally cock it up.

Andy has Lexie right up until you need to collect her on Monday afternoon, so you plan your week accordingly. Trying to make sure that you can avoid Roy completely for at least long enough for you to be able to laugh it off. Somewhere around Christmas would probably work for that. Annoyingly, the person you want to reach out to and talk to and cry to is Sara. You’ve exchanged a handful of messages about hangovers but you’ve not been brave enough to tell her anything. Don’t be hungover alone! My mum is cooking, you should come over. Late dinner today cos of the football. A new message appears. You try and put her off, there’s no way you’re going over there without a Lexie buffer. The match kicked off at midday, you’d put it on the TV and then turned it straight off when you realised how much the camera loved focusing on Coach Lasso and his coaching staff. Your damn body betrayed you every time the camera honed in on his surly face. You shuffled further under the blanket, content to wallow alone until another message came through, Please come. I know something’s going on, I thought Roy was going to punch a wall when I asked him if you were ok when he dropped you off. You concede - it doesn’t take much, the urge to avoid Roy was strong, but you didn’t want to have to avoid Sara as well. She sends you the address and an hour later, you’re walking to her parents house in the late March sunshine. Chief door opener, Phoebe lets you in and is instantly dismayed when you have to tell her that Lexie isn’t around today. She soon gets over it though, she’s got uncle Roy playing Princesses and Dragons. Sara ushers you straight into the kitchen to meet her mum. 

“Oh darling! I’ve heard so much about you from… well Sara, Phoebe and Roy actually. And lovely little Lexie as well. Such a shame she couldn’t come, there’s always next time though. It is so lovely to meet you! Come in, sit down. Do you fancy a drink or is your head still a little delicate?” The dainty woman knocks you off your feet with her kindness and sweetness. It reminded you of being in your teens and finding the one parent of your friend group who welcomed you all with open arms, didn’t care if you all swore like troopers and let you sit in the garden all night with a case of warm cider cans in the summer. The home you could go to when you’d argued with your own parents, but still needed home comforts.

“It’s great to meet you. I might be tempted later, I could go for a cup of tea though? I’ll make them, you’re busy.” You get up and start making a round of tea for everyone, working neatly around Sara’s mum and laughing with her at the state of the ‘favourite uncle’ mug Phoebe insisted that Roy always use.

“Thought I heard you.” A deeper voice muttered from the doorway. You bite down on your lip and try to force yourself to act naturally. He'd obviously been there a little while, watching. The only people who knew what had happened last night were you and Roy, and you certainly weren’t going to shout it from the rooftops. You hoped he was on the same page. 

“Try this love,” his mum hands you a spoonful of cheese sauce, you close your eyes and moan in appreciation - it’s incredible.

“God, that’s gorgeous. Can I have the recipe please?”

“Course you can. Remind me in a bit, I’ll swap you for that wonderful lemon sponge recipe.” In the other room, Phoebe calls her nan for something so she prods Roy out of the doorway so she can get through.

“How’s your head?” He asks once she’s gone.

“Fine, nothing a can of coke and three ibuprofen can’t fix.”

“Three? That’s specific."

"Tried and tested. Two isn't enough and four would get me in trouble with people like her," you point at Sara who's just come in. Roy sniggers,

"Her? No way, she's the biggest fucking culprit for wrongly medicating friends and family."

"Your knee got you to Nelson Road didn't it?" She queried, recalling the day he'd gone back after retiring.

"Yeah but half a co-codemol and a shot of whiskey can't be classified as a prescription."

"My slightly alternative suggestions are only for specific people. Not medically authorised." She hugs you and takes the tea gratefully. "Let me guess, three ibuprofen and a can of coke?"

"Bingo." You confirm and she sticks her tongue out at Roy. She can feel the tension in the air between you, a million miles from the laughter and glances you'd shared the night before. 

"Mum wants you to lay the table dickhead." He tells her. 

"OK," she looks to you, "come help me, I need to move it first." 

"There's a cup of tea on the side for you." You tell him as you follow Sara out of the room. 

Standing either side of the dining table, you and Sara look like you could be at war. You both pull at your end of the table, making it longer. 

"The fucks going on with you two?" She whispers, leaning forwards.

"Nothing, just very drunk crossed wires." She looks very sceptical but doesn't push you. She does, however, ensure that you end up sitting next to Roy for dinner. Fortunately, he seems just as embarrassed as you and is reluctant to talk to you much. You're starting to think that it's not so bad, avoiding him could be easy if he’s going to help you out, until he starts drying the plates you've been washing after dinner and dessert. 

"You don't need to do that, you're the fucking guest."

"Which is exactly why I am doing it." You carry on washing up in silence.

"Are we gonna talk about last night or what?" 

"Not if I can help it."

"Probably should though." You stop with your hands in the sink, and turn to him. 

"Roy, I was drunk and stupid and I apologise. I made a horrible mistake-"

"A mistake?"

"Yeah, I mean I must have been crazy drunk to think that I'm the kind of person that you would ever-"

"Hmm. I'd fuckin' stop there." You can't help but carry on, 

"You're like ridiculously gorgeous - it's borderline fucking obscene to be honest - and I'm a normal, boring person and for a tiny drunken moment, I forgot myself. It was a complete mistake, I'm sorry. Now please, I'm begging you, please forget this ever happened." Roy looks stunned while you take the towel from him and dry your hands before passing it back to him. "See you in the week." You say softly, going to the living room to say goodbye to his mum, Sara and Phoebe. 

The next day, you're rushing between meetings trying to eat a quick lunch, check your phone and book Lexie in for the Easter Holiday club at school all at the same time. When you see 10+ missed calls from Andy, your stomach drops to your feet. Your hands shake as you call him back. 

"Lexie's not well, where the fuck are you?"

"It's Monday lunchtime, I'm at work. What happened?"

"I've called you loads, I-" 

"I've been in a meeting, do you need me to come home, or is she OK with you? What do you mean she’s not well?"

"You should want to come home to her." You frown at your phone, resisting the urge to throw it in the nearest bin. 

"Of course I want to come home to her, I'm her mum. However, since I'm also paying for a house alone now and everything that goes with that, I have to make sure I'm doing the right thing and not just what I want. We don't all get to do what we want, Andy."

"I get it, work is more important. Always has been."

"That's not what I said and you know it."

"No, it's fine. I'll get her from school and I'm sure you'll turn up whenever you can."

"Fuck you, Andy. I'm on my way." You hang up on him and start making calls to rearrange your afternoon meetings. In the depths of the underground when your phone signal gives up, you chuck it in your bag and lean heavily against the pushchair space. You roll your ankles, taking some of the weight off your feet for a second. The higher the zone number, the quieter the train gets so you're able to grab a real seat. 

"Penny for 'em?" A gruff voice asks, sitting across from you. You look up and despite your mood, the situation and your Saturday night fuck up, you still smile at him. You wonder when he got on the train, how long he’d been so close to you.

"Hi. Lexie's not well, Andy basically said I was a shit mum for not coming home. So now I'm going home to be called a shit mum to my face. Happy Monday!"

"Fuck, wish I hadn't fucking asked. What's up with Lex?"

"Dunno, he wouldn't tell me. She's probably fine - you know what 8 year olds are like. What are you doing here anyway?"

"Had to go for a suit fitting." You can't help it. Your mind goes there, of course it does. It's been a shit few days. It's only going to get worse, so why wouldn't your brain reward you for keeping going by providing a visual representation of Roy at a suit fitting? Hands skimming over his body, a beautifully tailored suit. As if the standard dark jeans and t-shirt aren’t enough. You’re certain a suit would blow your tiny mind. You daren’t speak so settle for a nod. At the station, it’s pouring with rain. He sees your heels and straight away opens the passenger door of his car for you. “Come on, I’ll take you.” The domesticity of it is a little crushing, you’d bet it’s not all boring lifts to the train station and the park when you date models. More like champagne and sex on tap. You’d take a happy balance if such a thing existed, a domestic luxury of sorts. It sounded like an Instagram Influencer advert for washing powder. You direct Roy to Andy’s flat and take a couple of deep breaths before going to get out of the car. “Shall I wait?”

“No, no, don't do that. You should get back. I’m sure it’ll be fine. Just bracing myself, that’s all.”

“Whatever he says, it’s a fucking lie.”

“How do you know?” You ask quietly.

“Let me guess, you didn’t care about him, drove him away, you’ll do the same to Lexie, work’s more important…? Am I on the right track?” You nod, looking down at your hands in your lap, already ashamed.

“None of that is fucking true. I’ve seen you, you’re… you’re pretty fucking brilliant. You and Lexie are perfect. In one ear, and out the other - don’t listen to a word he says.” He reaches across and takes your hand in his, persuading you to look up. “Don’t let him make you cry.”

“It’s you making me cry, you dumbass.” You laugh a little.

“That’s better. Go get Lexie and forget about him for the rest of the week.” 

“Yes boss. Thanks for the lift.” He gives your hand a little squeeze and you dash out into the rain, trying to get undercover quickly.

Andy leaves you out in the rain for a minute or two. Of course, small punishments wherever he can. Noticeably, Roy doesn’t drive off and waits until he sees you go inside. 

“What’s he doing driving you?” Is the greeting you get when you’re finally allowed in.

“We bumped into each other at the train station, it’s raining and I was going to walk here. Where’s Lexie?”

“Sofa.” He grunts. You take off your soaking jacket, your blouse underneath is no drier, with various wet patches making it transparent in places.You kick off your shoes and go through to what you presume is the living room - you’ve never wanted or been offered a tour of his flat before. Most pick ups and drop offs took place at school so you could go blissful weeks without seeing him. Lexie is laying on the sofa under a blanket watching a film, she visibly brightens at seeing you and scrambles to sit up. You kneel in front of her and gather her into your arms.

“You ok my little one?” She nods, her temperature feels fine and she doesn’t look particularly ill.

“Yeah, I just felt a bit poorly.”

“Been sick?” She shakes her little head. “Ok, shall we go home?” You put her coat on her, get both of your bags and put your wet jacket back on. She holds onto you limply and you know the 10 minute walk is not going to be fun in the rain. “Up you come,” you tell her, gesturing to your back. As soon as she’s got her arms looped around your neck and her little legs around your waist, you step up into your heels. Andy watches with no intention of offering a lift and no comments on the rain outside.

“Dad?” Lexie asks quietly.

“Sorry kiddo, some of us have got some work to finish.” 

“We’re ok babe, we can manage.” You say firmly, you don’t want to argue with him in front of Lexie. Roy’s low voice in your ear: don’t let him make you cry. Fortunately his flat is on the ground floor so there are no stairs to navigate. You step out into the rain and start down the road towards your house. You only just reach the corner onto the main road when you see his car up ahead, pulled over. He nips out into the rain, walks up to meet you and takes Lexie off your back, she cuddles up to him while he takes her back to the car and puts her in the back. Without her on you, you can jog the short distance to the car and the two of you get into the front, your doors slamming in unison. You don’t know what to say. You stare at him as he starts the car and pulls out onto the main road.

“Alright, I waited. Don’t be fucking weird about it.” He mutters, reaching to the backseat and handing you a black sweater. You peel off your soaking jacket, so cold that you don’t give a thought to the state of your blouse underneath until Lexie draws attention to it.

“Mum, I can see your bra!” Lexie giggles from the backseat.

“Yeah, thanks honey. The rain got me.” You pull on the sweater, his scent surrounding you in an overwhelmingly wonderful way. It’s almost enough to distract you from the embarrassment of the wet t-shirt competition. Almost. He gets Lexie out of the car and carries her to the house while you get the bags. She’s soon off inside getting her wet coat and school uniform off, you hover in the small hallway next to Roy. “Thank you for everything today.”

“It’s nothing.” He tries to brush off.

“It’s not nothing, far from it. Lexie’s own dad couldn’t even be arsed to drive her home. Here,” you move to take off the sweater,

“Keep it. Suits you.” He says, halfway out the door. “See you later.” You're still watching the space where his car had been long after it drives off.

[just-wrting]

Drabble time!!! I’ve been having a rough week or two at work so Hotch fluff will have to cure it.

—

You came home late. It wasn’t the first time, but it wasn’t something that happened often. Normally it was your workaholic husband, Aaron, who came home late. You just worked the mid shift, part time to keep busy.

“You’re home even later that you thought you’d be,” Aaron greets you with a smile and a kiss on your forehead. “How was work?”

You groan and lean into his chest. “So bad. Miserable even. How dare they be so rude.”

Aaron pulls you closer and rests his chin on your shoulder. “I’ve told you, you don’t have to work. Do you want to talk about it?”

You shake your head. If you let him hold you for any longer, you’ll lose all motivation to eat and shower. Instead, you’d choose to have him hold you in bed and tell you sweet nothings until you pass out.

“Not really. Not now anyway. If you keep rubbing my back, I’m going to be so tempted to just go to bed.”

With another kiss, he lets you go. You can see in his eyes that he's worried. You scold him all you want about taking care of himself, but you know you aren't much better. You'd move heaven and earth for him and Jack.

"Jack and I ordered a pizza. I'll reheat some for you while you shower, so take your time, sweetheart."

God, he is just the sweetest. You know this, and yet everything he does makes you feel so special and loved. You couldn't ask for anything more from him, and still, he does things that go above and beyond what you ask.

"You're just the best, Aaron. I love you so much," you say before slipping into the bathroom.

After you undress, you turn up the shower temperature. You know how bad a hot shower is for you, Reid has told you on the numerous occasions that you've seen him, not that you care. You just want the hot water to wash away the stress from work.

It may not fix everything, but it helps. You lather up with Aaron's body wash and scrub your scalp with his shampoo. He never minds when you do this, and you can't think of a better way to make yourself feel better than to smell like him. At least while you work, it'll make you feel better.

After a knock on the door, you finally end your shower. You hear Aaron scold Jack for interrupting your shower, and hear Jack whine that he misses you. It warms your heart to hear.

You make getting dressed quick and swing the door open. Jack’s face lights up and he rushes towards you. He wraps his arms around you and rubs his face into your stomach.

“I missed you. Daddy said that I might have to wait until tomorrow to tell you that but you got out of the bathroom in time.”

You rub Jack’s head and ruffle his hair up. “Even if you went to bed before I got home I’d still make sure to give you a kiss good night.”

Jack gives you a squeeze before Aaron picks him up. Once he’s bundled up, he leans down to give your forehead a kiss. He also ruffles your wet hair up before his dad marches him off to bed.

“Good night, Jack. Sleep tight. I love you kiddo.”

With a little wave, Jack and Aaron disappear into the bedroom and you make your way to the couch. Part of you wants to just drag Aaron and Jack into your bed with you so you can pass out with everyone safe and sound next to you. Another part of you just wants to be alone.

You don’t even notice the time pass before Aaron comes back and gently rubs your shoulders. You sink even further into the couch. Nothing made you relax more than simple touches from him.

“Let me grab that pizza for you, sweetheart.” Aaron’s voice is soft and comforting. “Don’t go anywhere.”

You can hear him open and close the microwave and hear the beeping as it finishes. The worst part is that you can’t bear to open your eyes. You can’t bring yourself to want to move. The weight in your arms and legs makes you want to just sleep right here and even the thought of eating after hours without food isn’t enough to make you brush it off.

“If I didn’t know any better I’d say you were asleep,” Aaron chuckles from nearby. “Do you even want to eat?”

You shake your head but reach your hands out for the plate. The couch dips beside you and you feel Aaron’s weight being added to the couch. He gives you a quick kiss on the cheek before setting the plate on your lap.

If you eat it fast enough, you think you can still go to bed at a reasonable time. After all it was only about nine thirty, and you just felt exhausted. Your boss sure knows how to run you ragged.

Aaron is even so kind to grab the plate as soon as you have the last bite. You can tell he doesn’t care about dishes tonight as the sound of the plate in the sink isn’t followed by the sound of the faucet.

“Don’t feel like washing it?” you ask. “You can if you want I’ll still be here.”

You hear his laughter come closer. “But I’m not sure if my wonderful partner will still be awake by the time I wash the one dish.”

You hum in agreement. “I probably wouldn’t be.”

Aaron grabs your hands and helps you to your feet. Wrapping his arm around your waist, he pulls you close. You squint as he leads you to your bedroom. It’s only just down the hall but you feel like it takes forever for your feet to touch the soft carpet.

He helps you into the master bathroom and hands you your toothbrush. It’s already prepped with toothpaste and he makes sure to keep his arm around you like he’s worried you’ll fall over if he doesn’t. You adore how much he cares and all the little things he does for you. It makes you feel warm and loved.

Once you’ve swished your mouth free of the bubbles, he flips the switch and guides you to the bed. The covers are already pulled back and you let yourself fall right into the mattress. You can hear Aaron laugh as he pulls the covers over you.

“Do you need me to stay here? I can get into bed with you for a little while,” Aaron asks his voice filled with concern. “My paperwork can wait twenty minutes.”

You nod even though the room is dark. “I think I’d really like that right now.”

He doesn’t say anything. You hear his footsteps walk around the bed and feel his weight dip into the mattress. Soon his arm is around your waist pulling you close to him. He still smells of cologne and of paper telling you that he’s once again put you and Jack above himself.

“Don’t forget to shower and brush your teeth too, honey,” you mumble. “You should take care of yourself.”

Aaron gives you a soft kiss on the cheek. “I know, I will. I just want to make sure you fall asleep before I go anywhere else.”

You can feel yourself dozing off already. To add to your comfort, you feel his other hand reach up and start to play with your hair. That seals the deal between you and comforting sleep as you drift off in his arms.

[heylittleriotact]

Snippet-Sunday (but on Monday)

Tagged by @xxnashiraxx - thank you!! ❤️

I am tagging @allofthebarks (because I'm going to continue to annoy you into feeding me) and anyone who reads this and wants to do the thing!

I'm currently working on a one shot all about the first time Varric meets my Mourn Watch Rook, Amina Ingellvar. She's been encouraged by the powers-that-be at the Necropolis to take some time off and see the world, so naturally that means she's working in the Free Marches because all she knows is death and spirits.

First Call:

The initial contact with a funeral home when a passing has occurred to arrange the transfer of the body from the place of death. 

He got it: it wasn’t every day the Viscount of Kirkwall strolled into their sleepy little inn, but did they all have to rise deferentially? 

“No need to roll out the red carpet on my account.” He adjusted Bianca’s strap on his shoulder, making his way through the room of standing people. “Just passing through for a drink and a ghost story.”

The patrons of the inn exchanged wary glances, but one by one they all sunk back down to their seats and resumed their conversations - though the odd look of curiosity was thrown his way now and then. 

Heaving a sigh, Varric made his way to the bar and helped himself to a seat. Only one other person sat at the bar: a tall, gangly elf with a bare face and a mop of messy black curls, had to be in his mid-thirties. A chipped wine glass sat in front of him, along with a nearly empty bottle of wine that Varric knew was an expensive vintage. 

He was the only person in the inn that hadn’t stood up. 

Interesting. 

Varric ordered a whiskey - neat - from the innkeep and slipped Bianca over his head, leaning her against the bar at his feet, in reach should he need her. 

“What business brings you to Wrenwith, Master Tethras?” The innkeep - a stout older man with a ginger moustache and little other hair - asked, sliding the measure of whiskey over the wood to Varric. 

Varric brought the short glass to his nose and inhaled - yup: paint-thinner… just the way he liked it. He was grateful that at least the innkeep hadn’t insisted on dusting off something expensive and fancy just for him. 

He took a sip and hummed at the familiar burn on the way down; the warmth that spread in its wake. “You thought I was kidding about the ghost story, didn’t you?” He chuckled and arched a brow when the innkeep visibly paled. “I know, I know: why would the Viscount of Kirkwall personally drag his famously lazy ass here in person just to stick his nose into a bit of trouble with the undead?” 

“If it pleases Your Grace to know: we’ve already got somebody looking after it.” The innkeep babbled. “No need to burden the city coffers with our humble problems.” 

He was nervous - didn’t want to say too much. Wanted him to finish his drink and hit the road. 

“That’s the reason I’m here: I caught word that this ‘someone’ is none other than a Nevarran Mortalitasi - one of their Mourn Watchers, in fact.”

He was absolutely making this guy squirm for the hell of it… just a little. It only stood to reason that hiring a professional who belonged to a mysterious and ancient order of people who liked to play with dead people and spirits might be frowned upon by Kirkwall’s authority. 

The innkeep swallowed hard, the guilt on his face suggesting that he may as well have been the one to hire the Watcher. He wasn’t: the village would have pooled together their gold for this. “She said she could kill it, Your Grace. Permanently. No funny business or anything!”

The elf a few seats down, silent until now, snorted into his cup of wine. “Nothing ‘funny’ about that one, I’m afraid.” Emerald green eyes flicked up to the innkeep and a smarmy grin spread over his handsome face. “I was here when she came in: got a face like hewn granite and the disposition to match.” He turned on his stool to face Varric, still looking rather like the cat that had eaten the canary. “Doubt she’ll take kindly to you trying to run her off her work - even if you are Viscount.” His eyes roamed up and down over Varric with a haughty scrutiny that reminded him so much of Chuckles he was tempted to yank on his hair and see if it was a wig. 

“That fearsome, is she?” Varric probed. “I heard she was a Reaper. Can’t say I’ve ever met one, but I have heard that they take their authority over the dead pretty seriously.” 

“I wouldn’t want to piss her off.” The elf smirked and downed the rest of his wine, refilling his glass with the dregs of the bottle and tapping it with a fingernail to indicate to the innkeep that he’d like another. 

“You’ve… you’ve been in here all day, ser, d’you really need another whole bottle?” 

If it was true and the elf had been drinking all day, he looked pretty damn sober to Varric’s eyes. 

The elf adjusted the lapels of his road-worn leather topcoat and re-arranged his lanky legs under him. “I’m on vacation,” he drawled. “I think I deserve to indulge a little, aye?” 

“Holiday, huh?” Varric swirled his whiskey. “Whereabouts are you from?”

There was an unexpected coolness in his eyes and a tightness to his smile when the elf answered, “Nowhere.” 

Varric shook his head and turned back to the innkeep. “Listen, I came here to talk to our macabre friend: can you tell me where I might find her?” 

The innkeep nodded once, “Cemetery, Your Grace: end of the lane, take a right. Can’t miss it, can you? But… are you sure you wouldn’t rather wait? It’s nearly midnight, and the… being... she hunts is vicious.” 

Varric tossed back the rest of the whiskey and waved a hand. “Bah. I’ve blundered into worse things in my day than a pissed off spirit.” He slid a gold piece over the bar with two fingers. “That being said: I’d appreciate it if you had the bottle waiting for me when I’m back… I get the feeling I’m going to need a drink.” 

[fayeandknight]

Last week our agility instructor said she wanted Forte to trial soon. There's an AKC trial at our club in May and there are CPE trials in March and April. She wants us to do one of the CPE trials to get real trial experience without worrying about a Q and then trial for real at the AKC event.

My initial thought was oh shit, I'm not sure we're ready for that. Forte runs nicely most of the time but gets sniffy when I'm unclear on our next move (aka me getting lost on the course). He also still gets distracted when dogs/people come or go. Not enough to pull him off course but I can see the attention shift.

My biggest fear is that he finds a trial too much and bails like he did last year at the ACT. In that instance he ran three times, not cleanly - we NQed, but stayed with me for the most part. Mid fourth run members of my household showed up in a well meaning way, but they brought Faye and he heard her complaining in the car. He slipped through a gap in the fencing ring and went to run circles around their car. Compounded on that fear is anxiety around what might happen if he leaves the ring. Will he run past the wrong dog who in turn has a go at him?

As horrible as our first instructor was, I cannot unhear her telling me to be extra careful with Forte. If anything happens between dogs, the Belgian will be blamed regardless of him actually being the aggressor or not.

So I was nervous for our first run tonight and got lost on the course and in my mind. Forte responded by alerting and then going for a sniff when I brushed it off and tried to cue him to the next obstacle. We did the whole run but it was bad. Honestly we haven't had such a disjointed run in almost a year.

As we waited for our next run I waffled between confirming that we definitely are not ready and trying again to see if I could pull myself together. Our second run was indeed better because I didn't get lost but it still wasn't great. I still wasn't fully there with him mentally.

So for our third run I said fuck my anxiety. It is just him and I here in this ring. I trust our relationship and both of our skills and we absolutely have this. And just like that we had the cleanest, smoothest run we've ever had, even with the next class coming in. He never even flicked an ear in their direction.

I was on cloud 9 all the way back to our seat. Until a person and dog from the next class I've not seen before came in. Dog stepped into the room and immediately targeted Forte, body low and forward with teeth fully bared and low growling. I expected them to give us space. But no, the handler strolled pretty much right up to us - with less than a foot between the dogs.

I felt like I was moving in slow motion, watching Forte get stiff when this dog just kept coming into his space. I thought about how this is different from the overly reactive dogs he is fairly frequently called upon to play neutral dog for. This dog had serious intent to hurt him. I gestured for Forte to move to my other side to create more space, he did without hesitation but I could feel his weariness. The other person/dog moved behind us, closing the distance between dogs again. I had Forte come around the front of me and to the other side, again trying to create space. As Forte moved away this other dog shot forward to make a grab for him. I stood up to be more of a barrier and while Forte was clearly tense, he continued to not react and follow directions.

The other handler did then finally move away from us. It felt like the whole thing went on for five minutes at least but was probably much shorter. I can't say for sure because of the way time gets distorted when I'm that stressed.

And while I give Forte all the props for letting me handle the situation I'm not really sure how I feel about potentially going to trial. On the one hand, I do believe if I have my internal shit together he'll do well. And he's proven, again, that he will not engage with reactive and/or aggressive dogs - at the very least if I'm supporting him but probably even without that.

But I'm worried about a full trial experience because I don't want to put him in a situation where he's in danger from another dog. No ribbon or title in the world is worth having another dog go after him. We both worked so hard to get through his own reactive phase and I would hate to send us back to that. But I also know that when I'm stressed/worried I tend catastrophize and my perspective gets warped by it.

We will keep showing up to classes, because we both enjoy agility. But I feel more mixed up about potentially trialing than I did last week. Hopefully between getting my thoughts out here and having some good weeks going forward I'll feel more confident entering a trial. But if not, I won't.

As much as I would really love to earn an agility title my mindset is very much dog first, sport second. Though in our case it's more like dog first, service work second, and sports third.

[cricket-reader]

Your Warmth

Masterlist | A03 | Wattpad | Recommendations | Inbox

Summary: stuck in a snowstorm, she doubts she’ll make it out alive. What happens when an unexpected person rescues her from the storm?

Warnings (contains spoilers!): language, probably inaccurate descriptions and procedures, stuck in a blizzard, falling in a lake, near death, nakedness, implied sexual stuff (no sex), pining, idiots in love, cuddling, awkward fluffy moments, Bucky

Word Count: 2,426

Prompt: Environmental, snowstorm, come in from the cold

A/N: day 1 of March Trope-A-Thon by @amonthofwhump

The wind blew the snow with such force it made her blind. The only thing in sight was the white blizzard. It hadn’t picked up until just a minute ago. Of course, it would be her luck to get stuck in this crap.

She could slowly feel the numbing sensation begin to freeze her feet as the snow began to creep into her heavy duty boots. The mission suit she wore did absolutely nothing to keep out the cold. At least her jacket went down mid thigh.

Huffing in irritation as her hood gets blown down once again, she’s tempted to just give up. What’s the point anyway? It’s not like she’s going to be able to find her way to the safe house where her partner is sitting, probably all nice and cozy in the warm little cabin. She’s going to die out here alone and cold.

The frigid weather makes her body shut down. No average human could survive in this weather for how long she has.

Finding a small cave, she stumbles her way to the entrance. She doesn’t have it in her to worry what creatures she might find in it.

The relief is only minuscule. At least the wind isn’t blowing her this way and that. At least she isn’t being pelted by the snow coming down and drifting everywhere.

She’s barely able to register the beeping coming from her pocket. Whining, she hesitantly reaches to grab her communication device. Her fingers feel frozen and numb. She hardly is able to muster up the strength to press the button to answer.

“Where are you? What are you doing?” A gruff-sounding voice greets her, the voice echoing in the chilled cave.

“H-hello to you too Ba-Barnes,” she mumbles, curling up on herself to try and trap the heat.

“Not the time, doll. I can’t fucking find you in this stupid snowstorm.”

“Why-why aren’t you.. at th-the cabin.” She furrows her brows, her mind fogging over

“I can’t just leave my best girl to die out here, can I?” Her heart skips a beat. She loves it when he calls her his girl. It doesn’t mean anything to him, but she can’t stop the butterflies in her stomach whenever he says it. “Besides, Steve would kill me if I let anything happen to you.”

“Wow,” she huffs, “For a se-second there I tho-thought you actually c-cared.”

He forces out a chuckle, hating how he can hear her shivering. He needs to find her. If he can just keep her talking. He can’t lose her too. He’s lost enough. “Where are you?”

“I’ont know, a-a cave?”

“Fuck,” he mutters, almost tripping in the deep snow. “I’m never gonna find ya like that, babydoll.”

“I’on’t wanna move,” she whimpers. Bucky curses under his breath. He’s never going to find her like this. He hears shuffling on the other side and another set of whimpers. It makes his heart break. He won’t stop until he finds her. He’s close, if the signal from her tracker is still accurate.

“I’m gonna find you, doll, just hang in there,” he mutters, needing to somehow keep her talking. A harsh howling on the other end alerts him to the fact that she must be out of the cave.

“You still have those flares on you, doll?”

“I d-d-don’t th-think I’ll be able to-to light it,” she shivers so violently that he’s sure if it weren’t for his enhanced senses he would have no idea what she’s saying.

Bucky curses under his breath and looks around him. Her dot is so close. She should be somewhere nearby. Stopping, he notices a lake nearby. If he wasn’t paying attention, he would’ve probably walked right on it since the snow is covering it. God, then what good would he be?

A crack was heard through the speaker and his heart stopped. “Doll? What was that?”

He could hear her hyperventilating, still shaking as the wind harshly nips at her poor body. “Bucky…”

“What is it? What happened? Are you okay? Talk to me,” he orders, brain going into hyperdrive.

“I-I think I’m on ice ri-right n-now,” she shudders out, not moving an inch.

“Shit,” he mumbles. At least now he knows she’s close. “I’m gonna find ya, don’t move a muscle.”

He hears another one of those heartbreaking whimpers and wishes he could just find her and carry her to safety right this second.

The amount of relief he feels when he manages to see a speck of black in the blinding white blizzard is immense. That relief is quickly swept away when he hears another crack.

It all happens too fast.

The loud crack, the scream, the sound of her body plunging into the freezing water.

A churning is felt in his gut as he watches the woman he loves fall into the water. He should have told her to stay in that cave. He would have searched for hours if it meant that she was not drowning in water.

She’s never been this cold in her life. Her body seizes as she sinks. In a desperate last attempt she swims upwards. It doesn’t take long for her to feel heavy. Her body shutting down as she tries her best to keep her head above the water. It would be so nice to be in her bed, wrapped in her many blankets. Safe and warm. Her eyes drift shut as her hand catches on the ice.

Her mind doesn’t even catch up when a strange, soft material touches her hand. She barely realises that her body is being hauled out of the water. A string of muffled curses sound so far away as her eyes flutter open and close.

Warmth.

Nuzzling into the warmth, she vaguely recognises a wonderful smell. Something like the forest she used to play in as a child mixed with something purely masculine.

Bucky watches her smile as she nuzzles her face into his chest. His steps are even and quick, wanting—no, needing to get to the cabin as soon as possible.

A particularly harsh wind blows against her body and she can’t hold in the small cry as it feels like she is being frozen like a popsicle.

The cry urges Bucky to pick up his pace. He can’t let her die. He can’t lose her. She means too much to him. Who else will ramble to him when he can’t sleep? Who else is going to stay up with him all night to make cookies because he had a bad nightmare? Who else is he going to watch movies with? Who else will unconsciously cuddle into him during movie nights? Who else is going to warm his heart with every little move she makes?

There’s no one that can replace her. He is sure of it. She matters too much to him and everyone else on the team.

The cabin comes into view, and at this point he’s sprinting to get into the warmth. Luckily, it should be somewhat warm. The heating is nothing to brag about, but at least it is insulated. There’s also a fireplace, and he made sure that there was plenty of firewood.

“We’re almost there, sweets, just hang in there,” he mutters, holding her closer to his body. If she doesn’t make it… he doesn’t know what he’ll do. If only it had been him that got stuck out in the cold. Then she’d be safe at home in the warm. Then she wouldn’t be clinging onto life.

The door jolts her out of her dazed state. She suddenly feels more cold even though she is in the building. The slight warmth the cabin provides her isn’t enough.

He sets her down in the living room and tells her to strip. She mumbles incoherently as he moves to get some blankets. He sets them on the couch before moving over to start a fire in the fireplace. His hands are trembling as he lights the match. Fear and adrenaline both running high.

When the logs finally catch, he turns back to see that she has barely moved. Sighing, he rushes over to help her. “Doll? C’mon, stay with me,” he mutters, standing her upright.

She whines, just wanting to go to sleep. The warmth is starting to set in, but it still isn’t enough. Maybe if she sleeps this nightmare will be over.

“I’m gonna have to take off your clothes…” he grimaces at the blank look he receives. Swiftly undressing her, he wishes that she was cognisant enough to do it herself. He hates that he has to do this especially without her consent. He knows she’d never want him to see her like this. He knows that if she were in her right mind, she’d probably punch him for even looking at her. If there’s one thing he knows, it’s that she hates being exposed to others. Trust issues and all that. But at this point all that doesn’t matter. All that matters is getting her warm.

“I-I always knew you wa-wanted t-to get into my pants,” she jokes as he pulls down her tack pants, her voice quiet and whispery. He blushes deep red, continuing to undress her.

“You wish,” he mutters back, but it’s strangled and he definitely knows that, were she in her right mind, she would notice how he took too long to answer.

She chuckles a little, her eyes drooping closed. The smile she gives him makes him weak in the knees. When all of her clothes are removed, he carries her over to the fireplace, grabbing the blankets on the way. She leans into his chest, cuddling into him as far as possible.

When he goes to move away she whines and pulls him back. “Don’t go.”

It sounds so faint, he’s not even sure he heard it. Nevertheless, he stays. Whether it’s because he is selfish and loves having her close or because he wants to provide more warmth, he’s not so sure. Maybe it’s both. It’s probably both.

He curses under his breath when his hand touches her skin. It’s almost like she is frozen. Even after doing all this she’s still not warm. He rubs his hand over her arms, wishing he had his other arm to warm her too. Stupid vibranium appendage doesn’t provide the heat that human flesh does.

“Y’know… I heard that uh…” she mumbles, cutting her sentence off with a shudder, shaking her head. She mutters something that sounds like nonsense as her head rolls away from him.

“What is it, doll?”

“I’on’t… I don’ wanna make you uncomfy,” she slurs out, exhaustion dripping from her tone of voice.

“Baby, please, I’ll do anything, just stay awake, yeah? Can you do that for me? I know you can. You’re so strong, such a good girl for me,” he rambles, shaking her body to keep her awake.

A different kind of warmth blooms in her stomach and she hides her head into his chest so Bucky can’t see her face. She’s sure that she’s as red as a tomato. That’s one way to sort of heat up her body, she supposes.

The words she speaks are muffled against his Henley and not even his enhanced hearing can catch it. “What was that?”

She groans, not wanting to repeat it.

“C’mon, doll. It can’t be that bad,” he smiles reassuringly at her. She shakes her head and curls up in a ball, dying from embarrassment even though she hasn’t told him anything yet.

“Take your clothes off,” she mumbles, not realising that what she just said was a bit forward. Bucky’s eyes widen and he splutters, practically choking on his own saliva.

“Uh.. I don’t think right now is the best time to be—”

“Not like that you creep!” She exclaims, lightly hitting him because it’s all the strength she has left. “It’ll help warm. Skin on skin, y’know?”

“Oh, right, of course,” he stutters, face heating in embarrassment. He knew that. Of course he did. He had plenty of training on what to do during a situation like this. But god, the way those words came tumbling from her pretty lips. He’d give anything for this situation to be different. For her to be…

Stop it. Not now. She needs warmth. Not a pervert to creep on her with a hard on whilst she’s practically dying in his arms. Fuck. This is bad.

If she notices, he doesn’t say anything. His eyes have been respectfully focused on anything other than her body, but just knowing that his crush is naked, lying against him gets his blood running south. It’s not his fault that he has had no action in like seventy years.

God, that makes him sound so lame.

He lets go of her to pull off his Henley. His pants follow, but he keeps on his boxers for modesty. She doesn’t need to see his embarrassingly hard… Nevermind. Don’t think about it. Don’t think about it and it will go away.

Boy was he wrong.

When he sits back down, she crawls into his lap with not a moment’s hesitation, the blanket still draped over her. The second the blanket is removed from in between them, he swears he can hear the sirens sing. Although cold, her flesh against him feels so good. It’s a kind of contact that he hasn’t had in lord only knows how long. And now he never wants it to end.

Bucky smiles when he hears her contempt hum of approval. She nuzzles her head into his chest and cuddles impossibly closer to him. This, he muses, is a moment he wants to stay in forever. Nothing but them both cuddled against each other in the most intimate but also non-intimate way possible.

“Thanks, Buck,” she whispers after a few minutes of solid silence, the only sound is the crackling of the fire.

“No problem, babydoll.” He runs his hand up and down her bare back, wanting to comfort her and also warm her up. He watches her as her eyes start to flutter shut. She’s trying so hard to stay awake, but the exhaustion is pulling her down like an anchor to a ship.

“You didn’t hit your head did you?” Bucky questions, not wanting her to fall asleep with a concussion.

“No,” she mumbles, “jus’ wanna sleep.”

“Okay… I’ll be here when you wake up,” he promises, leaving a chaste kiss on her forehead. She smiles and sighs contentedly as she drifts off to sleep.

“You better be.”

[manonamora-if]

March Check-In

Lol. We definitely were not back on track here. We tried and SUPER FAILED at going back to the schedule.

Will March be better? Let's find out together...

Onto the usual index:

Recap of last month’s progress

IF Events in the Next Month

Plan for the next month

Still long post under the break. If you want a mini version, head over to itch.io!

February Progress

Welp... there wasn't much of a list in the January Check-in, since it was the retrospective, which included the yearly plan. Still, I did make a mini one on itch. Put together we'd get:

Play more IF and maybe review. ✅

Finish the coding of Harcourt Ch5 ❌ and editing of Ch6 ❌

Fix one of the semi-completed games: ❌

Complete the Vamp/Smoochie jam entry✅

Heyyyy 50/50. Passable grade!

I've passed the very funny number of 420 reviews on the IFDB recently, mainly working my way through the French games (since there are very few reviews and French IF peeps are neat people). There are 300+ games left on that side, it will take me a while to get there but I'm making progress (almost done with 2023!). If my pace continues... I might be able to reach 2nd place in the ranking before my 1 year anniversary of reviewing games (mid-may). Also somewhat related, I've been trying to rate more games on itch too :)

I said I would finish the coding of Harcourt... and then didn't. But MelS was more productive than me, and he finished the first draft of Chapter 6 earlier than planned... which I haven't finished commenting on either... So :/

I also didn't fix any semi-completed games. So there.

But I managed to make it for the Queer Vampire Jam and the Smoochie Jam with Teatime with a Vampire ! A 20k-long trippy game with a hot vampire and a weird show...

AND AND I finally fixed my website and my itch.io profile. It has a cool feature on the front page. And we did a little AMA a few weeks ago!

Honestly, I thought I would have been done with Teatime two weeks before it actually was completed. So that threw a wrench in the rest. And probably having to moderate a few events at once...

And the extra day clearly didn't help.

EDIT: I TOTES FORGOT, but I updated DOL-OS for an extra QOL screen at the start.

What’s happening in March?

There's always something happening in the IF world. I don't think I ever find all that happens anyway... but. Here's the ones I know!

Today is the last day to submit a Spring Thing intent! (ranked)

he Queer Vampire Game Jam ends in about three weeks. Got a vampire/human story with a LGBT+ cast? Then this is the event for you! (unranked) Also they are doing a fundraising/matching donation with submissions!

The SeedComp! (Sprouting) extended the deadline for a few more days! See @seedcomp-if for more info ;) (ranked)

Concours de Fiction Interactive Francophone 2024 se termine Lundi! Viendez faire des histoires en français!! <3 (ranked, duh)

The next @neointeractives mini-jam will all be about bringing back old jams... Check out the Revival Jam !

The Text Adventure Literacy Jam 2024 just started! It will be looking for "parser for beginners" entries until May!

Note: @neointeractives will have jams all year long. One a month/or so. And the next Planting Round of @seedcomp-if will start as soon as the results are dropped.

The PLANtm for March

Busy plan once again. Here are the thing I'm hoping to do or finish this month:

Complete my French Comp entry. The deadline is in 3 days. Will I make it? Probably. Will it be good? Probably be not because I've been writing it only in the past two weeks. You can expect some "love" letters though...

Complete my SpringThing entry. It will be all about fixing typos and potential bug. The code will be ready next week anyway. Maybe slap some cool-er animations.

Play more games! Consider this done. There's the Smoochie Jam, the SeedComp! and the FrenchComp right there...

Finish the Code Ch5 of Harcourt and edit Ch6. At least one round of edits would be good. So I can put MelS to work again.

Finish fixing The Roads Not Taken. I'm so sorry babe. I'm not avoiding you I swear. I actually haven't bee on the computer with your files this month...

LET'S DO THIS! WE CAN DO IT!

~

The 2024 To-Do List:

I have done nothing here. So here's the list again for nothing.

The hopefully maybe easy to handle To-Do:

fix the bugs in EDOC + overall the French version to match

fix the bugs of TRNT + find a way to add the missing pieces (giving up on the translation)

fixing the interface of LPM and the popups + check animal interactions

figure out the One-Button JavaScrip/jQuery issue...

edit the loading screens of the completed tiny games to include the program/format logo at least.

The 'Need a Bunch of Content to update but it's planned!' To-Do:

Update my website (bunch new title - also I don't think the logo clicky thing work...) + redo my itch page

Finish TTATEH (MelS dependent - this year should be it - for real)

Finish Exquisite Cadaver (half-way mark by this summer - manif)

Finish P-Rix - Space Trucker (main path at least)

Update CRWL (it's been almost two years... I'm getting ashamed)

The Unlikely But it Would be Dope To-Do

Finish The Dinner as it was planned (and translate)

Finish In the Blink of an Eye as it was planned (and retranslate)

Finish The Rye in the Dark City

Fixing TTTT (at least fixing, maybe try adding some storylets)

And finally The 'It's impossible, but one can wish' TO-DO:

Remaster SPS IH (if I managed to start this after completing the rest... I'm going to eat a whole sheet cake).

Start the IFComp project (2025? Might end up being a ST?)

[hairdestroyer]

TW: Grooming, mentions of NSFW content, mentions of s/h & sV!c!de

The tags are the fandoms he’s most active in so please be cautious, everyone

Okay, I was initially planning on waiting until I had taken screenshots of my own to talk about this, but I then realized I can make a separate post, this is serious and has gone on long enough so it’s time I mentioned it. However, before I do, this is not some big creator, I realize that, but they are a /very/ active user and though I only have screenshots from one victim and soon my own screenshots, there are at least five, possibly six, more that I know of, but I am no longer in contact with most of those people and I don’t want to go asking people to unblock someone like this. If they want to come out about this, that’s their choice, not mine. And, yes, you read that right. Five others.

This post is about @Mauroisthattired on Pinterest or @joshuakidd on here.

Because I know you’ll see this, hi, Josh, don’t even think about sending people my age and younger to beg me to take this down and forgive you again, you did these things, you are aware you did these things, now here are the consequences. And because I know you will, don’t you DARE hang your life over my or my friend’s head for this either, you have done that 100 times already and I do not have the energy to deal with it anymore. I may not have a big platform, but if you have publicly interacted with this person or know someone who has, please listen.

First, Joshua is not almost eighteen, he turned eighteen in March. I never wanted to mention my age on here, but it’s not like I’m posting p0/n so idc anymore, I kind of have to:

In late September, after I had newly turned fourteen, is when Josh reached out to me on my rp account on Pinterest, I hadn’t been active on there in awhile but I thought “what the heck, I need someone to talk to” so I agreed to role play with them. Josh was 17 at the time. Obviously, it was idiotic to have a rp account in the first place, but I’m aware of all the things I’ve done wrong so I won’t be focusing on that, that’s not why you’re reading this. I had admitted to him that I wasn’t online a lot so I sent him my main account, and god do I regret it.

It only took a few weeks for Josh to start overstepped boundaries, I had acknowledged that s/h is deeply upsetting to me so we wouldn’t get it involved in role plays, but he did. Not only that, but he would vent a lot and that would always end with me having to convince him not to harm himself. I will say, he was unaware of my age when this first started happening, but that isn’t that important because he didn’t give a shit. Very quickly it turned into I couldn’t not reply for a certain amount of time or else I would get berated by Josh or he would threaten to hurt himself. He’d always claim it was because I left him on seen even if I hadn’t been there to open the message in question at all. Whenever someone blocked him, he’d send their account to me in a “you know what to do” fashion, I never asked people to unblock him, but sometimes I’d block or unfollow them because I was afraid he’d check and go ballistic if I hadn’t.

At a certain point, he started begging me to add him to a group chat with my friends, always because he “needed more friends,” I never did because it didn’t work, but that didn’t stop him from reaching out. He’d spammed one of my friend’s comment sections asking them to chat with him until they gave in. Once they had he’d vent to them nonstop, send them NSFW art (never his), and once pressured him to send him pictures of his face despite his wishes. This friend is younger than me and was 13 at the time.

After he had ‘befriended’ my close friend, Jay, is when he got brave enough to start sending me NSFW, he would send me it to make fun of or just mid conversation without saying anything else. He never did straight up smut role plays, but he’d convince me to do suggestive ones where the s*x scene was always skipped (but still held the before all the way up until getting fully undressed and the direct after, not even the next morning), because he “refused to do suggestive role plays with anyone under eighteen” I never questioned it. At one point Josh threatened to end our friendship when I was disturbed that he was going to have a character attempt so it scared me out of asking not to do a certain scene, but ofc, he could tell me to stop because something was upsetting him whenever he wanted

Eventually there was the incident, my friend and I were taking a break from Josh and he didn’t respect it so I blocked Josh for the first time, while Jay was too scared to. Josh went mental. He screamed at my friend until I unblocked him to defuse things and had to explain to him what he was doing wrong, at the time the NSFW being weird hadn’t crossed my mind so I didn’t bring it up. He apologized, I tried to get him to understand, understand what he’d done wrong but the apology of “it’ll never happen again” was all I got either way. Around this time is when I had admitted my age, a few weeks or a month prior I had meltdown about how I was too young for this while Josh was venting to me, of course, that meant nothing to him.

[These screenshots do not belong to me, they belong to my best friend, Jay, like I stated. There are more examples, months upon months upon months of examples, but he didn’t want to relive any more than this and I do not blame him for that. He doesn’t go by either of these names anymore] Jay mentioned that he had gotten uneasy during their conversation about MLP, that’s why it was added

These screenshots are from /after/ everything had gone down. Eventually, my friend had enough, especially after being so shaken by the situation, so a few weeks after Josh’s 18th birthday he blocked him. I successfully comforted Josh after that and things went back to the “normal” of before. However, whenever Joshua wanted to vent he would try to manipulate me into letting him by saying things along the lines of “oh, but someone my age shouldn’t be venting to fourteen year olds” and he’d manipulate the situation so instead of him sending me NSFW out of nowhere I’d be asking him to because he “found something.”

I think Jay’s words of “he talked to me like I was a fucking dog” sum everything up. He did more bullshit, but this is long enough and I still need to make a post with my own screenshots.

If you took the time to read this, thank you, I just want people to know how abusive this person is towards everyone, including people his age.

When I finally blocked him for good it was because I realized he shouldn’t have been sending me literal NSFW, it took he about a week after with the Colleen Ballinger situation to realize what he was actually doing so I’ve been planning to make this post for awhile and realized that I’ll never truly be ready so I need to just do it.

Once again, hi, Josh, you took 50 years off my life. Congrats.

I realized early on how abusive things were, but I thought that being someone’s therapist was all I’m good for so I never brought it up. Funny. Expect a lot of vent art in the future along with screenshots of what he’d said to me, I lost an entire school year to this fucker and this post was just me recalling the basic outline of what happened

[brokenhardies]

The Butterfly Effect p4 drabble? draft? w/e?

Under the cut is a small test run of TBE's 'prequel' story, written from the perspective of Fool!Naoto (he/him). Featured in this prologue are Fool!Naoto, Hierophant!Eri, Justice!Yuuta and Aeon!Yu. Word Count: 714

@latenitewaffles, @inkwell1013, @mushroomfusion245 @rollthedice-playthecards @thehedgehogat221b @sterling-writes @wonderguards @hobie-doh

Naoto Shirogane didn’t like trains that much. The long ride from Sendai down to Yasoinaba bored him immensely - the only thing he could do was scroll through his phone and listen to gossip about a local member who was having an alleged affair with a news reporter. He frowned, he wasn’t even sure where he was going, but was surprised when he’d received a text from the woman who would be taking care of him - at least, until his grandfather recovered;

Eri: Yuu-kun and I are waiting outside Yasoinaba Station

Eri: Text me when you arrive, okay?

Naoto: I’m on my way - I think it’ll take about 15 minutes

Eri: All right then! See you!

The train pulled into Yasoinaba Station, and Naoto sighed. He was here for a new beginning, that was what it was. A new beginning that had been met with awkward silence from his classmates at Sendai High - after all, he’d only just arrived there in his first year when suddenly, his grandfather’s illness got worse. At the end of March, he was taken out of Sendai and moved to a ‘family friend’ - Eri Minami, a woman who had been close to Naoto’s mother.

She’d also been forcibly moved from the city - following a divorce from her husband - alongside her son Yuuta - the Yuu-kun that she referenced in the text. So, she could relate to Naoto’s struggles moving from a big city to a small town. Naoto’s train of thought delayed somewhat as he left the train, with nothing but a small bag of luggage, with clothes and important items. He placed his hat back on, and sighed as he looked in his reflection in the windows of the train that was leaving.

It was strange, actually going to a place that recognised his gender… But it would work, after all, new beginnings and all that. He left the stairs at Yasoinaba Station, and was immediately greeted by his new legal guardian.

“Good morning, Nao-kun!”

Eri Minami was a tall, slim woman. She was probably in her mid-30s, Naoto assumed. She had wavy brown hair tied into a low bun, fair olive skin, and wore a simple, pale pink undershirt tucked into a pair of burgundy trousers, paired with a pair of magenta-coloured slippers. Over her undershirt was a matching burgundy peacock coat, stitched together with a deep purple ribbon. Naoto waved at her, picking up his luggage with a muted apology.

“How was the trip?” She asked, “It’s quite hard travelling such a long distance. I’m Eri Minami, by the way, but I think you already understand that.”

“It’s nice to meet you in person, Minami-san.”

Eri laughed. “Please, no need to be so formal! We’ll basically be family for the next year.”

Naoto noticed that standing awkwardly beside her was a brown haired boy, who appeared to be about 5 or 6 years old at most. The boy hid behind Eri’s pant leg, looking down awkwardly. Eri smiled.

“Yuuta, this is Naoto,” She greeted, “Naoto, Yuuta. You’ll basically be brothers for this year.”

“Wow, must be weird hearing that for the first time, huh?” She grinned. “Don’t worry, I got the information from your grandfather before you arrived here. It might be a struggle to get binders, but you can always ask someone to make them, I guess?”

Naoto nodded. It did seem quite difficult, but Eri seemed to be helpful. She began to walk off to her car, Yuuta in tow, and Naoto was about to follow them, noticing an individual who was walking up to the station — a tall, tan skinned young man, with a grey bowlcut, wearing a black jacket over a grey turtleneck, matching grey pants, a pair of bright yellow headphones around his neck and yellow sneakers.

As Naoto was about to leave, he heard the young man call out.

“Hey.” He said, as Naoto faced him. “Is this yours? You dropped it.”

The young man walked over with a small sheet of paper, which Naoto recognised as his handwritten version of Eri’s address. He paused, blinking.

“Thanks?” He said, as the young man nodded.

“I’ll see you around, stranger.” The young man said, walking off.

Naoto paused. What a strange encounter. It seemed like this would be normal for Yasoinaba going forward…

[ashyblondwaves]

the ily prompts 50# jancy

Prompt: “I think you're beautiful“ Pairing: Jonathan Byers/Nancy Wheeler Rating:  T Word Count: 927

It was the perfect fall day for a wedding. The sun hung against a picturesque backdrop of thin, wispy clouds and blue skies as the temperature began to slowly rise to the forecasted mid-60's high. The sun's glow was hazy and deep shadows appeared under the orange Mums at either side of the red barn's entrance.

Will ran from one side of the barn to the other, acting as messenger between Bride and Groom since Nancy wouldn't allow Jonathan to see her until the wedding began.

"A Best Man's duties are never over," Will grumbled, barging into Jonathan's side of the barn.

"Bride meltdown. She said she needs to talk to you," Will said.

"How can I talk to her if she won't let me see her?" Jonathan asked.

Will rolled his eyes. "By being creative. Follow me."

Jonathan did as he was told. He followed his brother, who was now taller than he was, around the outside of the barn and to the front doors.

"Wait right there," Will instructed. "NO PEEKING!"

Will disappeared into the barn and after a minute or two, Jonathan heard Nancy's voice on the other side of the barn door.

"Jonathan?" she sniffled as her hand appeared at the edge of the door.

Jonathan took her hand, lacing their fingers together before he replied.

"I'm right here, Nance. What's wrong?"

"Everything's wrong!" Nancy shrieked. "My hair is wrong, my makeup is a disaster, and my dress isn't sitting on me the same way it used to. I look just like a Bridge Troll.

Jonathan chuckled. Nancy called herself a Bridge Troll at least three time a week, but he never saw it.

"I think you're beautiful," Jonathan assured her.

"You haven't even seen me!" Nancy cried.

"I don't have to see you to know you're beautiful, Nancy."

Nancy squeezed his hand tighter.

"I think you look incredible," Will said, still standing by the doors, probably to make sure Jonathan didn't try to sneak a peek. "You have nothing to worry about."

"That's was El said, too," Nancy sighed. "I thought she was just saying that because she felt that as Maid of Honor, she had to."

"El wouldn't lie," Will said easily. "And I think deep down you know that."

"You're as stunning as you always are, Nance," Jonathan added. "Now come on, let's get married."

***

The ceremony was going to be simple, chairs lined either side of the walkway leading to the barn's doors and the officiant, Jonathan, Will and El waited between the Mums for Nancy to come out.

As soon as Nancy appeared, Jonathan sucked in a breath. Even from far away he could tell she had nothing to be upset about. Her hair was pulled away from her face, with just a few curls left dangling to frame it. In her hair was a white floral pin that spanned the width of her head, and her smile was infectious.

Her dress was an off the shoulder number with flower appliques and a flowing mermaid skirt. Beads and rhinestones lined her bodice, glimmering in the sunlight as she walked toward Jonathan.

Tears pricked Jonathan's eyes as he watched Nancy march toward him, her father on her arm and tears streaming down her own face. But her smile never left.

As Nancy reached Jonathan and her father let go, she cried a little harder until Jonathan pulled her close and linked their arms together.

"Ladies and Gentleman, we are gathered here today to celebrate the union of Jonathan and Nancy."

***

"May I present to you, Mr. and Mrs. Jonathan Byers!"

The pair sauntered into the barn, hands clasped together and smiles so wide Jonathan felt as though his cheeks might crack.

The familiar sound of a ukulele began and rushed through the barn, filling it with an island sound before Israel Kamakawiwoʻole's version of Somewhere Over the Rainbow began.

Jonathan and Nancy circled the dance floor together slowly, swaying to the relaxing music. The only song they could agree on for their first dance.

Nancy dropped her head down on Jonathan's shoulder, lightly humming the tune as she held on to the man that was now her husband.

As the song finished up, the pair stayed in the middle of the dance floor for an extra minute, just holding each other. The DJ speaking finally tore them from their trance.

The rest of the reception went off without a hitch, a lot of dancing and love from both sides of the family as they celebrated the newlyweds. Toasts her made, kisses were planted and Holly caught the bouquet while Will caught Nancy's garter. He looked over at Mike, cheeks tinted pink and held up his treasure.

"We're next," he mouthed, his smile pulling his cheeks taut as he walked over to Mike and pulled him onto the dance floor.

Jonathan laughed at the pair, happy to see his brother thriving after years of trauma. He looked over to Nancy, seeing her say goodbye to a few guests as people started filing out. They'd done it. They'd made it and were married. There were days when he felt like this was never a possibility for him, but with Nancy's love and reassurance, he was able to fully embrace the idea of marriage.

He smiled and waved at the guests as he came up beside Nancy and snaked his arm around her waist. It was nice to see everyone gathered for something good. He pulled Nancy closer, bringing his lips to her ear.

"Next up, the Honeymoon," he murmured.

***

A/N: I am so sorry this took so long, anon. Life had me by the throat last week. Please let me know if you'd like a part two of the honeymoon. I was going to put it into this one but the wedding got away from me. But if any of you are interested in more, let me know!

[quinloki]

Ramble ramble

Just 1000 words of a possible opener to a self-insert isekai Marco/sona story.

I might change the perspective, but I like the idea of an omnipotent 2nd person that’s just mostly focused on the OC’s point of view. (I also don’t want to start writing first person and screw up mid-work on all my reader inserts, so here we are xD )

Their name will be Quill, and their hair is white, because I like that look and so I’mma use it.

I didn’t edit a damn thing, this is just me distracting myself so read at your own peril. Fully safe for work (for now).

Your head hurts and your body’s sore, and none of it makes sense. You shouldn’t feel anything - you died.

You remember dying, spending the last few moments in a hospital bed, the steady beeping of the monitors slowing. Your body gave way to the march of time and that’s all there was to it.

It was a good life, a long one full of people and laughter and good times. Some of it hurt terribly, and some of it you could’ve done without, but against the odds you had lived.

Right up until you had died.

You had.

You were so sure of it.

Soundlessly you opened your eyes and looked around carefully. The room was bright with sunlight, wooden and smelling of disinfectant and salt. The subtle scent of oak or maple tickled the back of your brain and the design of what you could see looked uncomfortably familiar.

You were too disoriented to really hone in on what it was, but your entire thought process snapped to a halt when you realized that you had shifted.

Not because you moved, but because the room had.

The subtle sway took a long moment to happen again and with a terrible sinking feeling you realized you were on a ship.

The salty smell was ocean air.

The boat was wood, you imagined, since the room was, and you turned your head to get a better look.

Despite the crisp clean scent there was no electricity in this room. Aside from that it looked like a well stocked recovery room. Not a place you’d want to have open heart surgery in, but you’d be sure a broken bone could be set at least.

Wincing against the soreness in your limbs you sit up. Nothing hurt in an alarming way, and you weren’t dizzy. Groggy, maybe, you could probably still nap a little longer, but you’d thought your sleep was to be of the eternal variety and now your curiosity was stoked about your situation.

You were in a simple linen shirt and pants. You looked over your body and came to realize you weren’t in your body.

If this was your body, you didn’t have any memory of it. You were short, muscled, missing scars and other marks you knew you had. Your skin was tan, and your hair was almost shockingly white.

You ran the strands between your fingers, marveling at it a little. You were most certainly not in your body. Eighty plus years of life had left its marks deep in your skin and soul, but this body was new.

New bodies healed a lot faster, and you swung your legs off the side of the bed, or the exam table turned bed, and hopped down onto the floor.

You could feel the slow tilt of the ship more now that you were standing but it wasn’t making you queasy. That was a welcome sign. Whatever body you’d been dumped into you weren’t in some poor schmuck that got seasick.

You looked around the room, looking through drawers and opening cabinets. You didn’t move anything or take anything, it seemed wrong to just wander out of the room too, so you did your best to stay put.

Bandages, medicines, syringes, sutures, tools for doing wellness checks. It was a fairly typical setup. If not for the lack of electricity you’d almost think you were on a cruise ship.

You didn’t know, technically, who you were, or where you were. But your current body was intact and you weren’t restrained, nor were you surrounded by blood and bodies and bars, so you felt pretty relaxed. You were on edge a little, wondering when the door was going to open, but you had been left on your own long enough to sate your curiosity and climb back onto the exam bed table thing.

You decided to look out the window and realized you had a decent view of the deck, or the small bit of it that ran down the side of the ship. You couldn’t be more than a storey up from it.

You noticed someone approaching and felt the blood drain from your face. The man was massive, not just 7’ or something but eye level with your window vantage point. He had to be over twelve feet tall easily. It was an impossible height, and despite the obviously kind smile on his face as he noticed you, you fell back into the room and slammed the shutters closed, nearly falling off the makeshift bed in alarm.

Your mind reeled at the possibilities, but you weren’t left to your thoughts for long before there was a knock at the door. You tried to say “come in”, but no sound left your mouth.

The air passed your lips, but you couldn’t make a peep. Panic rose up in your throat, had you ever been able to talk? Was this body mute? Would you be able to communicate in this world? What if you couldn’t write? What if none of this was real and you were dreaming the last few moments before your brain died?

Were you still actually dead? You felt so full of life you didn’t want to die, not again, not yet! This wasn’t a dream it was too detailed, too coherent, it had to be real! It had to be and -.

The door opened and you collapse to the floor heaving in big gulps of air as the rising panic and fear over takes you entirely.

Someone kneels down near you, a calming tone, a soothing timber. You like the sound, something is familiar in it, but you can’t make out the words. He shouts for someone, turned away from you for a moment before you hear that even tone turned toward you again.

Large firm hands grip your shoulders and pull you up. You can’t believe what your eyes are seeing but the extra information is enough. You can’t take anymore and hurl onto one strappy sandaled foot before passing out.