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honeybeezgobzzzzz · 1 day ago

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𓅨 The Endless’ Adventure with Animal Control: Chapter One

The Endless’ Adventure with Animal Control: You are being courted by Morpheus, one of the seven Endless. Then you get stood up on your date, and find out the shocking reason why.

Warnings: None.

To Note: Morpheus x Reader, Destiny = Russian Blue, Death = Sphinx, Dream = Mainecoon, Desire = Bombay, Despair = Exotic Shorthair, Delirium = Bengal.

Word Count: ~3.4k

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Apparently, having an Endless ‘court’ you means being showered with attention, gifts, and being treated like royalty while visiting the Dreaming. A quick Google search makes your situation clear. Courting is basically dating with the intention to marry, the step before engagement. So, you’ve essentially told Dream of the Endless he could court you and potentially marry you. Wow, you really have a knack for getting yourself into situations!

On the bright side, you enjoy the intimate time spent with Morpheus as he shows you places within the Dreaming you’d never imagined. Despite all the ethereal beauty and wonder you gaze at, Morpheus always keeps his eyes on you. That makes you feel special, beautiful, and seen—a first in your life.

It’s also an ego boost for the Endless to watch you fawn over his creations, as there’s nothing you don’t find awe-inspiring or amazing.

Morpheus’ courtship sweeps you up in a romantic swirl of magical dreams, picnics, and strolls, making you feel like you’re living a never-ending fairytale. But fairytales always end, right? You don’t think it’s going to crash and burn; you’re just suspicious of how well things are going in your life. Nothing has ever been this smooth and easy for this long. You’re suspicious, to say the least. That’s how you find yourself absentmindedly stirring muffin batter while lost in thought.

“Hey, uh, Y/N?” Matthew chitters, his head cocking to the side. “I think you’re over-stirring the batter…” You blink out of your tumultuous thoughts and glance down at the bowl. Damn it.

“It’s banana muffins,” you mutter, trying to hype yourself up. “They’re forgiving… right?” Matthew has no idea if banana muffins are forgiving, as he doesn’t bake, but he remembers that over-stirring muffin batter is a kitchen no-no.

“No idea, but sure, they’ll taste good either way,” the raven replies from his perch on the window sill. You installed a little bird perch for him after Morpheus began courting you. Matthew cocks his head further at you while you spoon the batter into the muffin tray. “So, you’ve been really lost in your thoughts lately, Y/N. Something wrong?”

You don’t reply at first, choosing to collect your thoughts while spooning dollops of batter. With a more than necessary drawn-out soft sigh, you finally reply:

“I feel like I’m in a fairy tale,” you explain almost numbly, realizing that admitting your thoughts out loud makes them true. “A stupid Disney fairy tale where all my wishes and dreams come true.”

Listening to your softly spoken words, Matthew is confused by how down you seem about those words. You’re happy with your life, right? It sure seems like it with the way you smile when Morpheus is with you—you practically glow! Clearly, everything isn’t fine in reality.

“What’s wrong with that?” Matthew broaches, ruffling his wings. “Isn’t that a good thing?”

“Fairy tales come to an end, Matthew, and I’m starting to wonder when mine will do the same.” You reply with a shrug, setting aside the now empty bowl and grabbing the filled muffin tray. “I’m not going to pretend that this is going to last forever. Nothing in my life has ever been without problems or heartbreak.”

“What exactly are you saying? Things are going too well between you and the boss man?”

“Pretty much,” you say, putting the tray in the oven and setting the timer. “I mean, do you know what it means to court someone? It isn’t dating, Matthew.”

“Uh, you’re gonna have to clarify for me because I have no idea what courting even is…” the raven responds sheepishly. You lean back against the kitchen counter and stare out the window.

“It means you get to know someone with the intention of marriage,” you explain to the raven, feeling silly for even saying the words. In what dimension would an Endless want to marry you?

“Wow, boss, you’re really going for it,”

Sitting on the park bench where you’ve spent countless hours next to a certain brooding man, your jaw clenches and fingers grip the worn wood tightly. Morpheus is never late. In fact, it always seems like he waits for you to arrive. He’s always careful never to have you wait on him and extends every chance he has to spend more time with you. So why isn’t he at your meeting place today?

Perhaps something has come up in the Dreaming, and he had to tend to that incident first? No, Matthew would have come to inform you of such an event. You spend many of your waking hours in the raven’s presence, and he keeps you well informed about what’s going on in the Dreaming. They wouldn’t leave you sitting all by yourself on this bench wondering...

“Maybe I was right,” you softly speak to yourself, thinking back to the conversation you had with Matthew about how your life is a fairy tale. Perhaps this is the great end you’ve been expecting? No, Morpheus wouldn’t do that to you. He dotes on you like a loyal boyfriend and worships the ground you tread! If you and he were going to end your relationship, no doubt it would be an explosive event with anger and tears. Not this nothingness. “They wouldn’t do this to me, they wouldn’t do this to us.”

You repeat those words in your mind, trying to convince yourself that nothing is wrong and that, for once, Morpheus and Matthew are distracted by something to miss your bi-weekly date at the park. Tonight you’ll enter the Dreaming and hunt down Lucienne to find out what happened. An Endless hellbent on courting you like a queen wouldn’t ghost you.

Sighing in dejection, you rise from your seat and stuff your hands in your pockets. Clearly, your date is going to have to be postponed. So you turn and slowly begin walking back towards your home, trying not to let your mind turn upon itself. Following the winding path, you pass a group of children kicking around a soccer ball and a pair of gossiping women. The pathway bends around a group of trees that obscure the rest of the park, and while you glance at a flowering bush, a cacophony of birds and breaking branches startles you out of your inner thoughts. You look up in time to see a black mass of ruffled feathers shooting directly at you and take the bird straight in the chest.

Obviously, you fall on your ass with a less-than-graceful yelp. While your palms sting from rocks and gravel digging into your flesh, you grunt and shift into a sitting position as the black bird rights itself.

“We’ve got a MASSIVE problem, boss lady!!” Matthew thunders from where he’s still perched in your lap, feathers askew and very ruffled. You blink at him in surprise, wondering why the hell he would be pulling such a stunt in broad daylight around the public. But before the flustered raven can tell you exactly what’s going on and why it’s such a huge problem, your phone’s ringtone goes off.

“Hold that thought, let me get off the ground and check my phone. It might be work…” Moving Matthew so he’s perched on your shoulder instead of your lap, you pull yourself to your feet and slip your phone from your pocket. The moment your eyes glance at the screen, your brow furrows. “Why on earth would they be calling?”

“That’s what I’m trying to tell you!” Matthew all but shrieks in your ear. “The boss is a cat again!” Dear sweet Jesus, not again! At least the animal shelter has your number on file and is calling you. Accepting the call, you hold the phone to your ear while speed-walking home.

“Hello?”

“Hello! We are calling you to inform you that we have picked up your cat Morpheus after he was found at the scene of an accident with other felines. We suspect that someone might have been trafficking purebreds given the conditions he and the others were found in. We’ll give him a once-over before you take him home.”

Well, no wonder he hadn’t shown up for your date!

Never mind that, brain. Morpheus is a cat again and possibly mixed up in animal trafficking? You need to get over to that shelter pronto!

“I’ll be right over as soon as I get home,” you promise before ending the call.

“Boss lady to the rescue,” Matthew sighs in relief. “I’ve been trying to bust him and the others out for at least two hours, but I got chased off.” The raven explains. “You have no idea how despondent the boss was when he realized he was going to miss your date. Thought he was going to start crying… can cats cry?”

“No idea and I do not want to find out.” You muse, crossing the street and setting your eyes on your front door. You unlock the door and throw yourself into your home, searching for your car keys. “Stay here while I handle this. It shouldn’t take long since they’ve dealt with him before.”

“Well, yeah,” Matthew agrees, coasting to his perch. “But what about his—” you’re already out the door, the wood slamming shut behind you. You know Morpheus isn’t in any danger of being neutered by the staff, but you do know he isn’t too keen on being touched and prodded while being examined. The last thing you want is for him to get injured a second time while in cat form… which makes you wonder how the hell this happened a second time!

Your boyfriend has a lot of explaining to do. Boyfriend. Gripping the steering wheel in a white-knuckled grip, you stare at the red light holding you in place, wondering when you began to think of him as your boyfriend. It makes sense; he is courting you. Has been for several months. But you’d never put a name to your relationship like that, just worried that things were going too well.

“It was a cat that got me into this, and a cat that will probably get me out of this,” you sigh to yourself, pressing the accelerator when the light finally turns green. The only question is, how long are you going to have to wait this time? Hours? Days? Are you going to wake up in bed with him naked again? You wouldn’t complain about that if it did happen again. But seriously, Morpheus really needs to stop getting stuck in cat form because once was excusable but twice is just ridiculous. Especially for an all-powerful Endless.

While you aren’t feeling as stressed as you did the first time entering the animal shelter, you’re still jittery about the idea of an Endless confined in a feline form. Trotting up to the desk, you give the receptionist a smile and tell her that you’re there to pick up Morpheus.

“He’s in back with the other five cats. Follow me,” she says. You do as told, following the receptionist to the back of the clinic and to a room marked ‘holding.’ The moment the door is opened and you step inside, your eyes zero in on the large form of your boyfriend currently sulking in a corner while a gorgeous Bengal bounces off the walls with energy near him. They couldn’t be more opposite! Letting out a breath of relief, you take a step forward, ignoring the dark-bodied Sphinx that trots up to you and sniffs your jeans.

“Morpheus?” you call softly, not wanting to spoil his mood further. Azure eyes settle on you, and in less than a second, the Black Maine Coon is launching himself at you. “Oh jeez,” you exclaim, awkwardly catching the flying form of your boyfriend as he latches onto you with his nails and instantly begins rubbing his face everywhere he can. “Mor—Morpheus, is this… is this really necessary?” you question, pulling away from his nuzzles. A rumble sounds in his body.

They must know you are mine.

You have no idea what he’s talking about, let alone who ‘they’ are. Perhaps the other cats? Your eyes glance around the small room as you hug Morpheus to your chest to support his weight. Obviously, there’s the energetic Bengal and the dark Sphinx, but a black cat with the most peculiar golden eyes lounges on a table observing you while what you think is an Exotic Shorthair lazes about. Finally, your eyes catch sight of a looming body perched on top of a bookshelf, glossy blue-gray fur shimmering in the light while an eyeless gaze stares into your soul.

Holy fuck.

“Family,” you whisper faintly, realizing what this is. The whole Endless family has been turned into cats. Destruction is clearly not here, he’s been missing for a long time, but the six remaining siblings are all accounted for. “How—how did this happen??”

I am afraid we cannot speak of what took place, beloved.

Morpheus’ words draw your gaze from the sightless, but not unseeing, Destiny. You look at him with panic in your eyes.

“Morpheus, Morpheus I am not—” You cut yourself off when a worker pops in.

“Hello! You must be Morpheus’ owner! We’re so glad to reunite him with you after the accident. We haven’t been able to identify the owners of the others, but they are obviously well-fed and cared for…” You speak before you can think your words through.

“They’re all mine,” you blurt out. “The cats. I mean, I’m not a crazy cat lady, I just… love cats…” You ramble as your face heats up, but the worker doesn’t even blink at your claim. The Sphinx obediently sits at your feet, looking up at you. The Bombay gets to its feet, stretches, and jumps down to the floor to get closer, and the Russian Blue, who has been the most aloof, gracefully leaps to the floor and joins the Sphinx. Clearly, they know you and are comfortable with you. “It’s complicated.” You finally sputter out.

“Just means a little extra paperwork, but we are glad to see that they have a loving home to go back to,” the worker replies. “We were real worried about a bunch of families missing their cats.”

“Nope,” you say in a high-pitched voice, cringing on the inside because you clearly need to calm down. “All mine, and clearly I need to make sure to fix whatever they used to get out.”

“I’ll go grab the paperwork and get the cardboard boxes ready. Hang tight,” she says, leaving you alone in the room with six of the most powerful beings in creation, all stuck in cat form.

“Someone better start speaking because this is above my pay grade,” you state, turning back to gaze at Morpheus’ siblings. This is not how you pictured meeting them. You never expected to meet them in the first place! “I—Let’s just be clear that I am a mortal human, and I do not play around with supernatural bullshit on the regular.”

That is understandable; this must be quite a shock for you, Y/N. You look down at the Sphinx, hearing a gentle female voice coming from that direction.

“Great, so I have no idea who is who except I can guess who is Destiny.” The Sphinx blinks at you, and you could swear you receive the cat version of a smile. Meanwhile, Morpheus is still rubbing his face everywhere he can reach.

I am Death, and I am pleased to meet the one who holds my brother's heart.

“Do Endless even have a heart to be held?” you wonder aloud.

Not a physical one. This time, the voice is suave and silky, drawing a low rumbling growl from deep within Morpheus. He pulls away from your neck, where he had been furiously rubbing his scent, and settles his gaze on his sibling.

Do not meddle with my beloved, Desire. Desire, the gorgeous Bombay, doesn’t even bother to bat an eyelash at the hostility in Morpheus’ voice and words.

Oh big brother, must you be so protective? It’s not every day that we get to meet the one who currently holds your attention. You can’t help but flinch at that wording. Hold his attention. Is that all you’re doing? You’ve heard bits and pieces of Morpheus’ past lovers, and by far, you’re the plainest. But you also know about Desire and their love for stirring shit up in the family.

“Desire, I presume?” you ask, stroking Morpheus’ body in an effort to calm him down before a full-on cat fight breaks out in this room. His hackles are already raised.

A pleasure. You must meet my twin; we’ve been ever so curious about you. Twin. Despair, the Exotic Shorthair, who is almost as sulky as Morpheus but barely makes any effort to move from where she lounges. That must mean…

“So you must be Delirium,” you surmise, turning your gaze to the Bengal that’s exploring the room and getting distracted by every little thing she comes across. “I didn’t exactly expect to meet you all like this, but I guess this is what was in the cards?” Your eyes glance down at the silent, eyeless Russian Blue. It’s a little creepy to look at him, but you can’t deny his beauty. Which is odd to think because he’s currently a cat. A cat with no eyes.

This is as planned. That’s a relief to know. Destiny, after all, sees everything. But still, how long is this going to last?

“Okay, and how long should I expect you all to be like this? If you can even tell me about that…”

Not for long, beloved. Morpheus reassures you, only taking solace in the fact that you won’t be subjected to his sibling’s noxious presence for very long. A few days at most.

“A few days, I can do that,” you breathe out, steeling yourself for a few tense days before everything returns to normal. You hug Morpheus to your chest for comfort, which the Endless certainly is pleased about, until the small cardboard boxes arrive to package up the cats for transport.

Morpheus’ ears go flat on his head, and a soft rumble emerges from his throat. Desire slips far away from you, clearly understanding what’s going to happen. Destiny, Death, and Despair wouldn’t care about being shut in the cat carriers, but Dream, Desire, and Delirium are probably going to be another story!

“The quicker you get into the carriers, the faster we can get home, and the faster you can get out of the carriers,” you announce to the cat Endless. The cardboard carriers are lined up, and you’re happy to see that Destiny and Death don’t hesitate to walk over and climb in one—they’re sensible enough. Desire glares at the boxes in disdain but ultimately sulks over, calling for his twin at the same time. All that’s left are Dream and Delirium.

Delirium is still bouncing off the walls and playing with every little thing she can get her paws on before getting distracted by another object… and Morpheus is still covering you in his scent and refusing to ease his claws out of your shirt.

“Morpheus, my love, box,” you chide him while peeling his claws from your shirt. “I need to get Delirium into a box before she gets out of the room and we have to chase her down.” Your boyfriend couldn’t look more pathetic than he does when you place his massive body in the extra-large box and close it up. Sighing, you stand up and look at Delirium.

She’s currently pawing at the space beneath a storage cabinet. Something has caught her attention.

“Delirium?” you call, and the Bengal turns towards you, revealing one blue and one green eye. “It’s time to go to my home. You can play around there as much as you want.” The youngest Endless blinks at you, and for a moment, you think she’s going to ignore your words and go back to bouncing off walls… but she runs over to you, full of energy, and launches herself into the box with an excited meow. “Thank you.”

With the six cats boxed up neatly, a worker helps place them on a rolling cart to make transport easy. Of course, you have to fill out paperwork for each of your five new ‘cats,’ but with Morpheus already in their system, it’s not that long of a process. While you finish up the last bits of paperwork, the cats are loaded into your car, and with a profuse apology on your part, you scurry to your car to get the Endless back to your home.

Date Published: 11/13/24

Last Edit: 11/13/24

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#dream of the endless #the sandman #dream of the endless x reader #the sandman netflix #lord morpheus #dream the endless #dream the endless x reader #sandman x reader #morpheus x reader #morpheus

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girlsneedff · 1 day ago

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NSFW! Minors and Ageless blogs DNI!

Sukuna x f!Reader, fwbs, best friends, Sukuna's a dick, angst, unrequited love, mentions of sex

Word count: 1k

Author's yap: This is the start of the "NOT Over It" series! Should I have started with Over It first? Possibly. But this is my writing project, and I'm gonna do what I want <3

Fun Girl

And now you’re stuck here feeling shitty. And stupid. All because you decided to fall for your guy best friend. Who you know is a dick. You thought maybe, just maybe, that you would have the chance to get with him- to be in a real relationship with him besides the friends-with-benefits relationship that you have while he’s in between girlfriends, and you’re not distracting yourself with flings and short relationships. You thought that because he’s kept you around, you were different. News flash to you: you’re not. And now you’re wishing that you’d never even asked him about that possibility.

•───────•°•❀•°•───────•

The two of you were sitting in his car, coming back from the movies. He wanted to see some random action movie, and you would follow him to the ends of the Earth, so of course you went with him. You’re sitting in the parking lot of the movie theater in comfortable silence, both of you just scrolling through your phones, not really ready to return home yet.

“You know the girl that I was talking to?”

Oh great. You rolled your eyes, shifting to rest your head on the closed window as you responded, while you continued to scroll through your phone. Trying hard to not show him how much hearing about his prospects bothered you.

“Which one?”

“I’m ghosting her. She’s hot, but talking to her is boring. I’d rather shit in my hands and clap.”

“Ryo you’re a dick.”

“A 10-inch one.”

“It’s smaller than that.”

He hits your leg in response. You shrug, glancing at him out of the corner of your eye. His body is facing you, his arm resting on the steering wheel.

“What?”

“You think I'll end up alone?"

Your heart jumps a bit, taking this opportunity to subtly hint at something. Who knows, maybe it would work?

You scoff. “Well at this point, the only girl you’re gonna end up with is me.” You say, trying to sound absent-minded. Sukuna doesn’t even let that sentence, that possibility, hang in the air for a moment before he shoots it down.

“You know there’s no way in hell that’s happening, right?”

You could practically hear your heart cracking, feeling it crumpling in on itself.

“Jesus, I was just saying.” You say quickly, trying to collect all of the shards of your heart before the hole is too big. Maybe you can glue it back together. He’s harsh- you know this. Don’t let it get to you.

“I’m not saying we’d be in a relationship or anything-”

“Oh yea fuck no. Sorry,” he says, in a way that you just throw the pieces you’ve collected up in the air, damning them all to hell, because you know that whatever he says is going to be devastating as he continues, “but I’d never date you. Ever. You’re not what I’m into.”

You were stunned. Looking back, you don’t know why you were stunned. You know this man. Certified womanizer, number 1 hoe. He’s noncommittal, selfish, rude, arrogant, abrasive. You knew this. So why were you so shocked?

“Oh, so I’m cool to sleep with, but not for a relationship?” You can feel your throat closing up, but you refuse to let him see you get emotional over this.

“We… have fun.”

“Fun?”

“You can’t tell me that you don’t have fun when we fuck.” He looks straight out the windshield, this conversation unconcerning to him.

You guys fuck?

It’s such a harsh way to put it. You hoped he would be softer about it- maybe salvage your feelings. You’re his best friend, for fuck’s sake. His kisses would be so tender as he slowly pushed into you, like he was taking care to not split you apart. The slow fucking and reassurance, the words of encouragement. Though it never lasted long before he’s thrusting into you like he hates you (which now, you’re wondering- does he?), you thought that those first moments were the most important. That they were his true feelings. Dumbass.

“I’m not your type, but you fuck me. How does that make sense?” You finally turn to look at him, your anger and tears combating each other to see which one holds out the longest. Your anger is winning, thankfully.

“Please don’t tell me you’re getting in your feelings about this.” He’s fucking smiling. Rolling his eyes, as if you’re getting worked up over something simple. Because to him it is simple. Sex is simple to him. He gets his rocks off fucking the shit out of anything that moves, and then he moves on.

“I don’t want to know about all of the guys that my girl’s been with. It’s emasculating.”

“Oh, so you can slut around, but there’s an issue with me having a past?”

“No, there’s not. Because I’m not into you, so it doesn’t matter.”

“You’re such a fucking-”

Immediately you hop out of his car. You quickly start to walk to the sidewalk near the theater, keeping your eyes glued to your phone as you scroll to book yourself an Uber home quickly. Your vision is blurring, but you don’t stop looking at your phone, not giving a damn if cars are rolling through the lot. You may be an emotional wreck, but you won’t allow any man, no matter how in love with him you are, to tell you that he’s using you to your face. You can hear him call out to you- you can picture him leaning on the top of his car with that stupid grin, calling your name as if he doesn’t understand why you would be upset.

You’re that undesirable? But Ryomen Sukuna sees no issue with his past sexual escapades. His charm, and his ability to sweet talk any woman is attractive.

•───────•°•❀•°•───────•

And that leads you to where you are now, sitting in the dark of your room, sniffling and deleting everything in your Photo’s hidden folder.

#jjk #ryomen sukuna #sukuna #jjk x y/n #jjk x reader #sukuna x reader #sukuna x you #sukuna x y/n #NOT over it series

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honey-minded-hivemind · 3 days ago

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Hey guys! So, I have lots of felt, some pieces of fabric and old clothing pieces I've collected, and some real pearl beads, and I thought, "Huh, what if I try to make simple pearl dolls?"

See, I have multiple things of felt, from hot pink and light pink to crimson red to cream yellow to sunset orange to dark yellow to brown to tan to black and gray and so on and so forth. I also have little colored buttons and colorful pearl beads too. I've looked up some basic doll/plush patterns, and I can sew plushies, I just don't do it a lot or maybe once or twice a year.

So, maybe as a small project to keep me occupied, since I going going have lots of time on my hands, I can make unique pearl dolls. Ye or no? It's a maybe, at least. I think simple projects might be best, instead of diving into the deep end like I sometimes do. I just need to keep my mind occupied, so I can deal with everything going on right now. Everything will be okay. We'll be alright.

( @sugar-soda @vivid-bun @thewickedweiner @crowwithguns ) (I know y'all like some Steven Universe or gem stuff, so maybe y'all would like to see any progress or dolls I might make if i do this. It's still a maybe. And it seems fun. Amd I really need to use up those pearl beads and buttons)

#honeycomb thoughts #honeyminded dolls

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aftgficrec · 2 days ago

Note

Can you please suggest fics where neil and bee have more interactions. Or even ones about andrew and bee talking about neil or anything else

Btw I really really appreciate everything yall do! God bless you.

Here is what we found for you. -A

Neil/andreil talk to Bee:

Neil goes to therapy here

‘we softly stir the violence’ and ‘Healing’ series parts 1 & 3 here

‘“I wish I'd never…”’ here

‘Andrew Minyards Crystal’ here

‘pain our brain has made’ here (updated)

‘not to blame for falling’ series and ‘sidelines’ here

‘on the tip of my tongue (say something)’ series here (completed)

‘Andrew and Neil's guide to getting better’ series here

‘True Love Waits’ series here

‘Cyberstalking’ here

‘Promises’ here

‘A Taste of Your Own Medicine’ here

‘The Massive Continuity of Ducks’ and ‘Ghost of You’ here

‘A collection of Andreil one-shots’ ch 3 here

‘I Don't Know’ here

‘The Destination Was Always Forever’ (updated), ‘Minyard-Josten Rivalry’ (updated), ‘sunrise, abram’ series, ‘and in a flash, it's gone.’ series part 2, and ‘Stay Where I Can Reach’ here

Andrew talks to Bee about Neil:

previous ask here

‘Unspoken’ here

‘AFTG Drabbles’ parts 1 & 8 here

‘Paper Cut Hearts’ here

‘the shuffling of cards’ here

‘words can't warm the windows of my soul’ here

‘The Hand That Needs Me’ here

‘Mother Mannequin’ here

‘Anything’ here

‘the icarus to your certainty’ here

‘No straighter path than to struggle’ here

‘Can we can pretend like we're (not) in love?’ here

Neil Josten is Not Fine by Anonymous [Rated T, 3362 Words, Complete, AFTG Then & Never 2024]

After weeks of nightmares and an embarrassing discovery, Neil finally decides to pay Betsy a visit.

tw: implied/referenced torture, tw: implied/referenced rape/noncon, tw: nightmares, tw: bedwetting

i'll take anything you have (if you could throw me a line) by ifitmeanslosingyou [Rated M, 923 Words, Complete, 2024]

the sunrise can be pretty, neil thinks, but instead of the pinks and oranges washing him with ease, neil can’t help the panic at the thought that he’s been up here for longer than he planned to he wonders if anyone has even realized he left the dorms in the first place, wonders if andrew even looked when neil left the bedroom, wonders if he gave up, wonders if he finally came to his senses and realized neil was more trouble than he’s worth wonders if the roof of the court is high enough that the fall would kill him day 31: asking for help | therapy | “i’m alive, i’m just not well”

tw: suicidal thoughts, tw: implied/referenced self harm

help, I've lost myself again (but I remember you) by abitsillygoofy [Not Rated, 5320 Words, Complete, 2024]

“Neil we have to talk about it,” Betsy said “I don’t think so” Neil replied “Nope, not happening” He popped the p at the end trying to make the woman mad at him. “You just tried to kill yourself, so I think we have to have this talk” Betsy didn’t seem bothered by his act and kept her nice, neutral facial expression, but unlike on his session looked worried too. or Neil wakes up in the hospital after his suicide attempt and has to face what he did.

tw: suicide attempt, tw: self harm, tw: blood

keep telling me that it gets better (does it ever?) by phan_taloon [Rated M, 15415 Words, Complete, 2022, Locked]

Previously recced here

AU where Neil never met the Foxes, with a little less mafia and a little more pain for Neil when he ends up captured by Nathan for months, and has to deal with the consequences by himself. He ends up in treatment for chronic pain with opioids, and let's just say opioid use is tricky when you're alone and in pain; one thing can lead to another more easily than it seems.

tw: drug addiction, tw: drug overdose, tw: withdrawal, tw: suicidal thoughts, tw: implied/referenced self harm, tw: implied/referenced abuse, tw: implied/referenced torture, tw: vomit

an acquired taste the asbestos is lovely by cyanica [Rated M, 6617 Words, Complete, 2024, Locked]

“What did you take?” Andrew demands. Neil wonders if Andrew will taste all that is wrong with Neil when he kisses him. He wonders if Andrew will recognize it. Andrew knows what it is to hurt himself, and this must be familiar. It’s deja vu, Neil thinks, if only a little bit worse, a little more terrible. Neil shakes his head, groaning into the toilet, “I don’t want to tell you.” Andrew pulls out his phone, and Neil can already hear it dialling when he says, “You can tell the paramedics.” Or; “Cigarettes,” Neil says. “I ate your cigarettes.”

tw: self harm, tw: overdose, tw: pica, tw: eating disorders, tw: vomit, tw: blood, tw: mental breakdown, tw: implied/referenced abuse

If it means protecting you (I’ll pay my dues) by Intangibel (duskbutterfly) [Rated T, 125462 Words, Incomplete, Updated April 2023]

Previously recced here

What if the threat of Aaron being charged with murder was more significant and Neil found out that he could prevent Andrew from having to be at the trial if he were to testify. What would he be willing to sacrifice to achieve that? What if instead of refusing to testify for Aaron, Neil decides to make a deal with the FBI to become their witness against his father if they’ll backstop his current identity. He thinks it means signing his death warrant and losing the Foxes. Betsy, Aaron and the Foxes are determined to convince him it doesn’t have to be all or nothing, his father’s people are coming for him and that’s not even starting on what Andrew will have to say about Neil choosing to martyr himself.

tw: graphic depictions of violence, tw: child abuse, tw: torture, tw: blood, tw: scars, tw: vomit, tw: implied/referenced drug addiction, tw: implied/referenced rape/noncon, tw: implied/referenced csa, tw: homophobia, tw: conversion camp reference, tw: reenactment therapy with noncon

The Sun Still Rises by mordax [Rated E, 474451 Words, Incomplete, Updated Oct 2024]

Previously recced here

Somewhere on the road, Mary Hatford gets pregnant with her second child. When she passes, she leaves behind not only Neil, but his toddler brother. Survival is difficult without also raising a kid. Worn out and desperate, Neil still somehow ends up at Palmetto, only this time, he brings his four-year-old brother with him.

tw: violence, tw: anxiety, tw: panic attacks, tw: implied/referenced rape/noncon, tw: implied/referenced self harm, tw: implied/referenced child abuse, tw: drug use, tw: involuntary sedation, tw: reenactment therapy with noncon

NB: find fanart for this fic by @/elidanus on twitter here

Ain’t it fun by jemejem [Rated T (we say M) 30672 Words, Complete, 2018]

Neil can't sleep. Andrew can't feel. High school is going well for the both of them.

tw: homophobia, tw: mental breakdown, tw: anxiety, tw: depression, tw: suicidal thoughts, tw: suicide attempt, tw: implied/referenced self harm, tw: scars, tw: ptsd, tw: psychological trauma, tw: flashbacks

I been here all along (so why can't you see?) by alexcherry [Rated G, 8691 Words, Complete, 2021]

Andrew leans on the counter beside Neil's thigh. "Where do you want to go, Josten? What favor do you need from me?" Neil looked at Andrew and steeled himself. "I want you to come with me to the next therapy session with Betsy posing as my boyfriend." "Like one," Andrew thought for a moment. "Couple therapy?" Neil perked up. "Yes! Exactly, and then we see how long it takes her to find out we're not connected at all."

tw: implied/referenced child abuse, tw: implied/referenced torture, tw: implied/referenced murder

If You Need Shelter by AfraidOfBananas [Rated M, 2642 Words, Complete, 2021]

��The boy is staring at Neil with a startled expression like he’s just seen a ghost. Well, maybe he has. Neil hasn’t felt alive for a very long time.” Or.....Neil meets Andrew while he’s on the run

Family by BlueJay26 [Not Rated, 9420 Words, Complete, 2021, Locked]

The blood of the covenant is thicker than the water of the womb. Three adults who certainly proved this was true, and their (sort of) children who realised a family isn't always linked by blood. Also known as, how Abby, Bee and Wymack earned their family's love and trust.

tw: implied/referenced abuse, tw: internalized homophobia

Art

Abby and Betsy art by @rainbowd00dles

Betsy 💕💕 art by @neroholik

Mom and Dad and Mom art by @llstarcasterll

Betsy and Abby 💖 art by @jeannemaybedarc

Betsy Dobson cosplay by @/toobeetofunction on instagram

@drbetsydobson instagram account/moodboard

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allmannerofmalady · 17 hours ago

Text

In continuation of my clownery, I started a new DATV playthrough because my beloved Inquisitor looked so jarring I had to remake her and replay like 20 hours of the game. But hey, I made peace with the fact that I am playing DATV to wrap up Inquisition and get an ending scene at this point, I'm not currently foreseeing a second playthrough, so I gotta do it right, y'know?

Spoilers, and me complaining at extreme length, yet again, about my own personal expectations vs reality into the void. Please ignore if DATV negativity is something you prefer to stay away from, protect your peace & what you enjoy.

So I replay HOURS. I'm having fun killing everything as fast as I can - I don't know what it is about playing as a rogue in this game that has tickled my ADHD brain so much, but I'm surprisingly really good at the arrow bonanza and relentless enemy aggro?! This turn based bitch? I digress.

I see my bb Inquisitor Lavellan - she still doesn't look like herself, but I can live with it. She got some ill-advised fillers in Tevinter, she's been through a lot, let her LIVE.

This time around my strategy is pure lore hunting. I'm getting every codex, I'm SQUEEZING this playthrough for whatever lore/easter eggs I can get because idk if I'm going to play again. I got all of Solas' murals early on, got Mythal's essence before Weisshaupt even, I think. BUT WAIT! I have one more treat! The locked room in the Lighthouse! Solas' study! There must be something juicy for all the effort, right? RIGHT? :'D

I know it's been beaten to death, but PERSONALLY, the game still feels incredibly flat to me, jarringly so. If I'm in the Dreadwolf's home, I want to snoop. I want Rook to look through his library, his books, his garbage bin. I even remember the devs saying they wanted being in the Lighthouse to feel an old friends house, or something? I could be wrong, my brain is fried. It's not just a Solas thing - I'm playing this game because I'm desperate for info about the characters I love, but as Rook, we are IN Solas' HQ and I want to rip open the floorboards. I'm trying to RP as much as I can RP in this G.

Anyway, I was so thirsty for something more, something deeper than just these lovely environments I cant do much with, and notes on how Solas hoards raisins - so I collected the wisps and did all the things to unlock the second door in the Lighthouse, forever booboo the fool, thinking I would get an easter egg or something. Trying to stay positive.

No. NO. I got some gear, another empty room Rook has no comments on, and fine, some of Solas' observations on the anchor.

Back to backflipping and shooting arrows in the air, and wanting to grab Emmrich by the beautiful lapels to shake him and ask about the Pentaghast family. Where's my WIFE --

On to the Weisshaupt mission, which was actually ridiculously fun to play - until I was told Weisshaupt is gone haha wow great love that at least the Inquisitor & gang are keeping Southern Thedas safe *subtle foreshadowing* 😃🤞 weeee

I was SO MAD at myself for expecting more like the clown that I am, it was something dumb but just annoyed me all over again and got me all… opinionated 🫠

So, I'm mad again. I cannot begin to articulate my feelings about the incredible amount of storylines and lore we've lost with the decisions made in DATV's writing - they've already been written so eloquently by much greater minds than myself. SO I'm just laughing my way through the pain 🤡

People pleaser that I am, I see other creators I've followed and loved for ages defend the game's choices, tell others they lack media literacy, that your criticisms mean you have rose tinted glasses about the previous games - whatever, your opinion can be valid without tearing others down. So, I genuinely thought something was wrong with me for being so hung up on details. But I can't even engage in fan theories anymore because I'm so jaded at this point. When I see new deep dives into lore-based theories on the game, 99% of the time my mind goes "There is no deeper meaning. They just wanted to wrap it up." Why do you think this thing happened? What do you think that thing is hinting? Nothing. And this is coming from someone who played all the games, owns all the novels, art books, World of Thedas I and II, the bloody Inquisitor lamp from the BioWare store LOL, I was primed and ready to engage in these conversations, but I can't. I have nothing to say that won't end in a cynical answer, and maybe that's because I'm also jaded by working in the game-adjacent VFX industry.

The factions are, yet again, fun but shallow, the logic confusing, and lack much of a backstory for Rook (I think Grey Wardens and Mourn Watchers seem to be the best developed from other reviews and playthroughs, I've only played extensively as a Shadow Dragon, to be fair). Why are you a mage in this one faction? Why are you a rogue in another when it doesn't make sense without a story to support it? It's all this beautiful candy floss that melts away the minute I stop and think about it. And then the cynic in me thinks - these are probably vestiges of the live service part of the game that EA was pushing for. I have to slap myself and stop looking for deeper meaning within corporate decisionsssss there is no swimming pool behind that closed door you needed 7 wisps for 😃

I desperately did not want this to be the case. I was hyped. I preordered the game and organized vacation around it, I'm too old and dealing with way too many crappy personal things to just be a hater for the sake of being a hater. Gaming and Dragon Age are my comfort spaces. But for the LIFE of me, I can't imagine playing DATV again once I finish, let alone more times than I can count like the previous games. Or imagine listening to 4 hours of Youtube videos of party banter to analyze, or even imagine how companions would react to certain things because they feel so stiff. Everything is beautiful, but sterile.

I do love Emmrich - I'm enjoying his storyline and romance, it's like the loveliest most whimsical Vincent Price Pixar romance, but still, something is always missing with the characters even as some do grow on me. I can't imagine anything close to just the party banter ALONE between Solas and Iron Bull. Cole. Fenris and Anders. And to be clear - the whole DA was GRITTY and DARK, DAO supremacy - NOT ME. I love all the games but they have always been whimsical and silly, cringey at times, and did not take themselves seriously. I remember doing the quest where Hawke is running around trying to keep Aveline's date with Donnic from going south, cracking up at how ridiculous it was, and just thinking - gods I LOVE this game.

Speaking of romance, while I'm enjoying how sweet the romance with Emmrich is, when I see others complaining about lack of spice... ahem. I still cannot get over the art style when it comes to characters. This is subjective, and a me problem - I still find it jarring. I don't like the proportions, the bloom, how smooth everyone looks. They still mostly look like cartoons to me, with no body hair and the big heads, and I find everyone's hands so distracting because they look like plasticine. I'm ok with no spice between these characters with their current designs lol let me leave it at that. Ok, except for Felassan and Solas, chef's kiss, no notes.

Solas and story elements directly around him still mostly hold the familiar weight, for the most part. I think credit goes to his amazing VA and the strength of what was likely written for his arc from the very start, before the rewrites and dev hell the game went through. I still have opinions, obviously, but even as a ride or die Solavellan I don't like having the Solavellan angle hijack conversations, so I'm not going to go there. If I'm going to criticize stuff I'll do it as a gamer/DA fan first, egg lover and apologist second.

As I reach the end of Act 2, the game continues to makes me feel like I'm stripped of all agency after a lifetime of playing choice-based games. I talk to companions when it allows me to, then they are relegated to set dressing. My conversation choices all feel the same, or don't match what I'm choosing sometimes. The Lighthouse does not feel like the vibrant hub it was sold as. I am on quests I mostly cannot accept or reject. I cannot interact with my surroundings unless it is gameified (light a candle, move a crystal). The companions abilities are all just - platforming? I know I sound hyperbolic, but it's all I can see currently.

I played Persona 5 from end to end, twice. I played FFXVI. I loved both, had no issues with their linear storytelling, and how the game led you to their end points. Those games are not DA, they did not have the expectations you would have from a BioWare title 10 years in the making. You were not lured in by tales of an incredible character creator, teased about what might be coming from previous games, told this was a sequel to an immersive fantasy RPG series in a beloved fantasy world where the defining studio mechanic was CHOICES MATTER, even when they changed a lot of other things from title to title. In P5/FFXVI you were Clive, you were Joker, you were playing out their story. They were not direct sequels to anything. I'm loathe to be seen as a mindless critic who just wants to shit on things, but a part of me does feel emotionally manipulated for $$$. I still resent how much hype was built for the game by maligning the previous ones (we're fixing Inquisition's mistakes!!).

I'm back to my mission of finishing the game I paid for, enjoy what I can, and get my Solavellan ending scene cause I'm down BAD for literally the only ship I have ever shipped🧍🏻‍♀️I appreciate that it was included. But also - wow does it exacerbate what wasn't included for everyone else's choices.

Something I hate is how everyone immediately jumped on the Baldur's Gate 3 comparisons - BG3 was a life changing game for me, but it's not perfect, and the comparisons are not fair. The one thing I will say is that when I first played BG3, despite its issues and the later criticisms of how Larian reacted to pressure from fans, I remember my earliest impression was - it feels good to be respected as a player. I didn't feel the game was talking down to me, and I got SO much for what I paid for (700 hours baybeee). Jaheira and Minsc were included as companions in homage to the previous games. Yes, they did Viconia dirty, nothing is perfect - but for example, Jaheira would tell you about her husband Khalid from the original games, which came out in 1998 and 2000. There was a lot of world building/easter eggs that not everyone was familiar with or even noticed, because not every player played BG1 and 2, or were familiar with DND 5e - but it was included. Drizzt Do’urden was mentioned ffs, they didn’t overthink about who read those books or not. I’m aware of my biases and I may very well be looking through rose tinted glasses, but I did not feel like the information was presented like I was dumb, or "ah they'll never understand this - SCRAP IT". It just feels like it’s there to honour the past and out of love for the world Larian were playing in.

I don't feel that respect for the player in DATV, I'm sorry. There is love there, but as hard as I try, it feels like it's there despite of the overall design of the game, not part of it. I keep remembering interviews before the game was released and things that were promised, and I don't see it. At all. No more meaningless fetch quests!! Most companion-focused game! The quests are largely boring or formulaic, but addictive and fun because they are so packed with mindless combat that my brain enjoys. Sometimes it feels like filler - we didn't know what to add here, FIGHT! You unlocked a poignantly named gate in the Crossroads? NO STORY MORE FIGHT! And I'm eating it up, let me not be a hypocrite, I have 80 hours in the game. But personally, it feels designed to pad out this beautiful, sometimes fun, but bitterly shallow game. I can't even go into companion specifics because I have nothing to say, no story I want to analyze. Some have grown on me, but there is no bite or nuance to the writing that compels me and I have no urge to know more. In the previous DA games I would take the long route wherever I went just to get more banter from my companions, and I was instantly interested in them, even if I disliked them. I've seen the comments, I tried, I don't think it's because "I haven't spent enough time" with the DATV companions.

The level design of long narrow corridors, which do remind me of DA2 and FFXVI, has become so predictable to me that I almost always know exactly where I'm going to find loot. So it becomes this admittedly satisfying run of grabbing and fighting to the end point, getting the dopamine hits of collecting pointless stuff, but not really taking in the environments and enjoying the adventure. The level design is not immersive. These do not feel like real cities or real people, and that was intentional. It feels like “levels”, not a World. No one reacts to a single thing you do. Even in the ultra minimalist style of Zelda BOTW, townspeople would react to things you did. Sometimes I walk up to yet another obvious fight arena where the enemies are just chilling, waiting for me while standing still - almost like they're on shift at a haunted house LOL. I can imagine the Venatori stubbing out a cigarette, "C'mon guys, she's here, showtime". The funny part is this has all been seen before in older games, and it never bothered me. My own expectations and overhype might be to blame, but it feels like a big step back when so many games are stepping forward. Me = clown

I keep going back to my first reaction when the disappointment hit me. It feels like being given Persona 5 Strikers or Hyrule Warriors, and told that it's the sequel to the actual RPG. It's fun, it wears the skin of the thing you like that makes you happy, but stops there.

Other things I shake my fist at

Cheap ass The 6th Sense ass Varric death. Yes, yes, Solas villain arc whatever - it was cheap. Way to honour a multi-game beloved character and the player, even if the time had come for him to die in the story.

No, I cannot find a single redeeming reaction from a companion that makes Varric dying make sense in hindsight, except that they are all made of cardboard. I saw comments saying on a second playthrough it's clear Harding is in mourning - sorry, I don't see it.

So. Dorian, the Inquisitor, Charter, Harding, your party, Maevaris, Isabella, list goes on - not a single one of them asks about Varric or mentions his death? Expresses condolences? Nothing? Cheap. Even if Solas was playing with your mind, doesn't it make the overall characters in the game seem even more wooden and unrealistic to the player? It was not the gotcha they seem to think it is.

When the novelty of the cameos and the emotion associated wore off, they were just flat and felt random. Cassandra should have been there, doing Seeker shit (my WIFE). Ok no cameo? Casual dialogue with Emmrich about having a Nevarran in the Inquisition (or as the Divine?!) Lucanis info dumping about Josephine as an Antivan, Zevran as a Crow, nvm, time for a coffee joke. Merrill, eluvian queen, how is she a nonentity? Habibi Fenris should have been in the Shadow Dragons, spitting on the ground after being approached by Solas to join his uprising (lol what uprising amirite). Ok I'm cooking hire me Bioware 🍳 but at least they can remain untainted by the Isabella Treatment (tm)

This leads into the yeeting of the Keep, world states, choices, and hypocrisy around claiming to want to level the playing field for new players. No, all I can see is - it was treated as a buffet that they picked from as it suited. This is the one disappointment I will never let go of. Facsimile's of beloved character cameos were tossed in, you could not really talk to them outside of what limited dialogue you were allowed. Certain world states are now canon apparently - Dorian being recruited in the Inquisition, Morrigan drinking from the Well etc. You want a reboot and you've committed to tossing the choices and burning down Thedas (literally)? Go down with GLORY! Have all the previous main characters/companions alive. Have them all mentioned, even in passing. A portrait on a wall. Say goodbye to them, get your reboot. Honour what you built your business on. But yeah, Emmrich and Harding get to have their picnic in Fereldan fml bye

The argument of: well, the games are old now, it shouldn't matter. Ah - not too old to capitalize on the IP and DA name? Not too old to use some cameos to lure old players? The argument of - it was too many choices to track. Ok cut them down, but don't go scorched earth? 3 choices, mostly irrelevant to those who don't care about Solas (could never be me), and then literally telling you everything else in the South and Weisshaupt is now razed to the ground. But also the illuminati did everything.

FINALLY - the Inquisition should have been in charge of the hunt for Solas, hill I will die on. Fine, have Rook, but Inquisitor should have been the other protagonist. The people... who knew Solas best and betrayed by him... who were in an organization to save the world... Why did we have that cunty dagger stabbed into the map of Tevinter cliffhanger to have the Inquisitor reduced to a pyjama wearing husk BIOWAAAAAAAARE

It's this stuff that builds up, and makes me think - does this game hate its fanbase and source material that much? I very obviously need to go touch some grass 🤠

I keep engaging with Reddit, Tumblr, Twitter - all to my detriment because it makes me feel like there's something wrong with me for not loving it, all over again. I also desperately have a fic in me I would love to write, an ode to the story in my head from years of loving the world of Thedas, a love letter to my Lavellan and others - but idk what to do with the post-DATV world atp. I just want to get through Act 2/3, get my Solavellan smooch, ignore the ~secret Illuminati ending, and be grateful I'm not a Mass Effect fan so I don't have to go through this again 🐣

#bioware critical #dragon age critical #i scream here to function out there #trust me i want to get over it #came to fix solas now he needs to fix me #veilguard critical

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thatsveryvortex · 2 days ago

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Writing Tools for Planning Your Story

I've tried tons of writing apps and sites, so you don't have to. Here's a list of free sites to plot out your novel, with my review and some images of how I use it.

Milanote

Milanote is like having a giant pinboard with folders. You can upload anything onto it [yes even your main doc] and then draw over it or connect things with lines and arrows

Milanote lets you add up to a hundred things for free, not including drawing. This is one of the downsides of the site as I've found myself reaching that limit recently.

For me, the best part is being able to draw over stuff, and the color swatches.

Milanote is a lot less structured than other sites I've used, and personally, I don't think their templates are worth using.

8/10 overall, Milanote is what I mainly use. Here are some pics of how I use it:

Miro

Miro is a flowchart website mainly used for corporate jobs, however, it can be a great plotting tool for that reason

Miro has a lot of great starter templates if you are looking for a more structured freeform experience. It also comes with a blank page as well.

Unfortunately, I'd argue that it's a bit of a hard tool for beginners to use without a template, I've learned copy-paste is my best friend with Miro the hard way.

It's much better than most platforms at making timelines though.

It has a limit of three boards which is a bit disappointing but overall, I think it's worth the try.

5/10 Miro is very middle of the road for me due to the limited ability to customize things and the free limit. Here are some pics:

[I wrote that part weeks ago, I am now fully using Miro and believe it's the best for making timelines and charts, I just wish it let me make more boards 8/10]

Hiveword

This might be someone's jam, I can't really say it's mine though.

First off, the unpaid version is really just a few boxes saying "Write a summary here." which makes it just not worth it in my opinion

There really isn't any way to customise things which is my favorite part of most of these softwares

I've barely used this, so maybe there's something I'm missing but

1/10, Just use Google Docs at this point, here's a couple pics

World Anvil

People like this software, it's mainly used for tabletop, which is just a different way of writing adventure, and I've seen it recommended by authors.

Unfortunately, I'm going to disagree with a lot of people and say it's hard to use and isn't even really good at plotting.

I may be biased on this one as every time I've tried to use it in the past I've struggled. However, it seems like another just write it in a document and create a folder.

I'd say it's closer to an organizing tool, but even then just use something else.

3/10, I have nothing to say about it but maybe you'll enjoy it, all here are two photos

Campfire

This is the one I think I've heard the most about, but have never actually tried.

right off the bat, I'm going to say this is 100% worth it, you'll see at the end with the photos but this is like if Miro and World Anvil had an organization baby.

It's extremely easy to understand, and it makes timelines, it's more for writing your whole book but idk about that yet.

7/10, its themes are really pretty but it limits how much you can do to 20 I believe. Here are the photos

That's all for now, honestly, I think you should use Miro if you are looking to plot things out, and Milanote if you want to collect and organize your thoughts for writing, as that's what I do. Obviously what I like won't be for everyone, but hopefully, this helped you see some options

#writeblr #writers on tumblr #creative writing #worldbuilding #plotting #writing advice #writing tool #writing #writers #writing plans

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holyblanchett · 10 hours ago

Note

Hey wanted to shoot you an ask and say I really appreciate seeing what you have to say on the show and how it was handled! Specifically in regards to Rio. I love Agathario a lot and was disappointed with how it was ultimately played out but I was also happy, for me, with the show as a whole.

It always seemed like Agatha was never meant to get like a proper redemption, and then of course didn't, but I hated how she treated Rio by the end of the show. She just would not let herself see the truth of the situation as a whole and something you said earlier on, she didn't deserve Rio!! They gave us a "breakup" but it felt weird. Like Rio and Agatha had back and forths, memories etc. But Agatha never pushed forward to try and at least understand where Rio was coming from, ie her job. If I was the green witch I'd crash out too just out of being frustrated probably. Anyway, sorry to take up your ask space, I just love your takes!

Also sorry that people are being crazy at you??? Your reactions and thoughts are valid, God forbid they're different

Agatha was just so consumed by her own grief she could not see anyone else's perspective. Even in the flashback we did see Rio was genuinely hurt and did not want to take her son. I feel like Agatha just needed a person to blame and Rio was the most logical choice. From Ep1 when she tells Rio "you don't have a heart." In my mind, it was her acknowledging that as a cosmic being Rio doesn't experience emotions quite like humans or witches do. She kind of used that against her in the end which is kind of fucked up ngl. I 100% agree I would have crashed out too after being mistreated for centuries.

Right?? With all the backlash I'm getting you would think I said I hated the show or something awful. The collective outrage is insane.

#agatha all along #agatha harkness #kathryn hahn #agathario #marvel cinematic universe #marvel #nicholas scratch #lady death

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bomberqueen17 · 19 hours ago

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how the writing is going

Ok so. LOL. About the only thing I am effectively achieving this week *is* writing, and even that is not really..... I don't have a draft. But I have a whole bunch of sample snippets I've written to try and feel my way through the worldbuilding and discover the sorts of things the characters are likely to be preoccupied with, which is often how I figure out what a plot should be.

The next thing I thought about after dolphins was modes of transport besides sailing ships.

So this is a fairly high-tech society, but they do not have fossil fuels, and they don't have a large-scale power grid. I decided that for aesthetics, but as I'm unpicking my plot, I'm realizing that it makes sense. See, the main driver for all my plot devices is that there's a lot of sun activity-- sunspots, coronal mass ejections, magnetic field anomalies, that sort of shit. A power grid could not survive on a large scale. So all power generation is done in small, local installations-- some very local indeed, panels on rooftops, little waterwheels, tiny wind turbines. Industrial-scale power is generated in hydro plants and used right at the site for hydro-powered manufacturing-- much of it direct hydro-power, not converted to electricity. Just direct drive waterwheel shit. Because the sun can throw whatever shit it wants at the planet and your waterwheel won't notice or care.

That said. Communication over long ranges does pose a significant challenge. You're going to need line-of-sight semaphores and shit, which I had not worldbuilt in the earlier versions but absolutely could add in.

There should be trains, and I haven't really pondered those yet because I need to know more about my geography. Please, god, don't make me draw a map, but I'm gonna have to. Oh well.

But the other thing I thought of and got really excited about was

DIRIGIBLES

It's feasible with technology we currently have, and this is a thing that some large companies are pursuing, to make very large, hydrogen-filled, entirely solar-powered dirigibles for long-distance cargo transportation, faster than ships, the same speed as trucks/trains but more direct, slower than airplanes but INFINITELY lower carbon footprint. And hydrogen is outlawed by the FAA as a lifting gas, not because of the Hindenberg (which had many contributing factors) but because of a Congressional hearing which was presented by the helium lobby in the 20s. Hmmmmm.

A fascinating detail is that you could make a solar-powered lighter-than-air craft operate day and night seamlessly by having a power generation process where some of the day's collected solar energy directly powers the thing, and some of it goes toward... I forget the details but it powers a chemical reaction that, come nightfall, is simply set to reverse itself, which will then release most of the energy that it took to power the reaction in the first place, which you can now use to power your aircraft. Which is not a thing I knew about and I now have to research how that would work because, fascinating.

Anyway. In Fantasy World, there are totally dirigibles, and they're also probably operated by the Navy, and the water-ship sailors fucking hate them, LOL. This will be a wildly entertaining dynamic and I am rubbing my little paws together.

Also.

While feeling sort of brain-dead and stupid, I got a sheet of paper, went through a bunch of lists of historic names and lists of like, suggested baby names from various ethnicities, and I just made lists on this sheet of paper of men's names, women's names, arguably gender-neutral names, and then a huge pile of surnames, and then I sat down with a bullet-pointed list cribbed from the website of the museum of the USS Constitution of all the personnel that would be on a 44-gun frigate ca. 1812, and I first pondered each of the jobs, added some, took some away, came up with my own numbers of how many guys I needed, and then I just sat there and combined the first and last names in aesthetically pleasing ways to generate characters, lightly crossing out ones I'd used. (and sometimes googling them to make sure they're not somebody famous or something, which i always recommend with fictional character creation, especially if you're as oblivious as I am.)

I was unable to resist also coming up with some backstories-- siblings, little work histories, criminal pasts, notable traits, that sort of thing-- for many of the characters.

I did not make up names for every individual person on this ship, which I decided should have a crew of about 150-180, but I made up some names for every position, and considered age and gender as well for all of them.

I will not use many of the characters I've created this way, I'm sure, but the ones with interrelationships will totally somehow get used, and this way as I'm writing if I need a character I can find them already made, and if that person has a defined role, I already know which one and won't lose track of them.

This also got me to consider why people wind up in the jobs they do in this society, what drives them to seek out certain things, and that gave me a lot of background as to what's going on onshore.

I should try to find a list of a dirigible's crew and think about them, too, and build out the train people and routes and whatnot.

I also bought a used older edition on Thriftbooks of The Annapolis Book Of Seamanship and have been reading that with... more interest than I expected actually. I have the 1983 edition and it has a really moving little plea to let the women on your ship also learn to sail because it is foolish to relegate them to the kitchen when if only they were taught how it works, they could save you all in an emergency. LOL I wonder if that's worded differently in the updated new version or not.

#about the author #writing #the process #solarpunk tall ship bisexuals

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mynameismanze-blog · 2 days ago

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Warnings: Smut, p in v, making out, blood, almost dying, cussing.

Black Sheep

After it was revealed that Ethan was the second killer, my heart sank. But not only was that revealed, but Ethan was also Richies, younger brother. I killed Richie out of self defense but they weren't having it. Apart with having 22 stab wounds all on his body.

As we kept going back and forth between the aisles of collectables, we came to a hault between one of the aisles. Ethan was front watch and Quinn was in the back. As Detective Kirsch was watching the video Richie made from God knows when, Ethan was locking eyes with me. I look in his eyes and I once in a while look over at Detective Kirsch.

"There's a very special bond between a father and his first son."

I notice Ethans shift in his demeanor. He looks sad and defeated, along with a little bit of anger? I notice it and I look into his eyes again. Ethan changes to his tough exterior and I raise a brow slightly.

"You too huh?" I ask in a low voice. Quinn and Detective Kirsch shift their gaze to me and I continue to look at Ethan for a response.

"What?" Ethan shakes his head and he smirks a little, then he replied with annoyance. "What are you on about?"

"When he said there's a special bond. Your face-" I get cut off by a cut to my arm by Ethans knife. "You don't know what you're talking about!" There it was my way out of this situation. I hold my arm trying to slow the bleeding.

"I think you do Ethan." I say with my expression hardening and I lock eyes with him. "What are you really doing this for? Validation? Aknowledgement?" Detective Kirsch steps closer and I don't leave my eyes from Ethan. My expression is serious and but my heart flutters for Ethan. You see I've always liked Ethan, I just never told him mainly because I didn't want to get rejected.

"Ethan-"

"Shut up! You're not my fucking therapist!" I inhale deeply as he's on the verge of a serious rage. I swallow and I blurt out. "Ethan this probably won't make a difference but I have to get this off my chest."

There's a moment of silence before I speak up again. "I like you ethan. I did at the beginning of the year. That probably won't make a difference right now because I'll be dead but let me tell you something I had to learn on my own. Being a people pleaser, or something you're not takes a toll on you. It makes you not recognize yourself and you do things to make other people happy. This may not be the case or maybe it is. You don't have to be something you're not with me. I know all too well because I was once you too. I thought I had to impress people just to get them to like me."

Detective Kirsch steps forward and pushes Ethan aside. Ethan almost loses his balance and stumbles a bit. Detective Kirsch grabs me by the collar and pulls me towards him.

"Who the hell do you think you are?"

I quickly headbutt Detective Kirsch and he falls to the ground. I back kick Quinn hard and my foot lands on her boobs. She falls to the ground as well. Snapping my gaze to Ethan and I quickly go over the aisle of evidence. Ethan stands there conflicted but he eventually runs after me. I quickly go up the ladder and I make it to the top. Heading through two double doors there's a staircase leading up. Quickly making my way up the stairs to the top.

I push through the only door that was up there and looking around I'm obviously at the rooftop. Quickly thinking on my feet I run along the edge to see if there's a fire exit. When I finally found the staircase, I start to make my way down with one foot on the step. “Stop right there!” A sharp and loud voice can be heard. I turn around and it's Ethan he's still holding his knife. He quickly barricades the door with junk from around the corner.

I get off the fire exit and I jog towards him. “How long do we have?” I say breathlessly to Ethan.

“Five minutes or less. I missed you.” I quickly kiss him and insert my tongue in his mouth. I run my fingers through his hair and pull him closer to deepen the kiss. Ethans hands slide to my butt and I he reluctantly pulls away. “Baby. We have to make the scene.” I nod gently and I place my forehead on his.

“I know, I'm just nervous.” Ethan takes one hand and places it gently on my cheek. “Don't be okay? I'll be there to get you when you wake up. We went over the plan several times.” I give a small nod and I peck his lips. Ethan reaches in his pant pocket and hands me a syringe. He hands me a bottle of fake blood and I head down the fire exit.

I make my way to the side walk and I go in the dark alley that's next to the building. Pouring the fake blood quickly and covering my body. I pour the remaining on the ground and I take it the syringe. Quickly putting the syringe in my vein and I toss it in the dumpster. It's supposed to slow my heart rate down, enough to presume me as dead.

Lying on the ground face forward, my heart rate slows and I close my eyes.

Waking up it's dark. The zipper was the only thing shedding the fluorescent light. Listening to see if there was anyone nearby. When I felt like the coast was clear I dig my finger into the opening of the body bag. The ribbs of the zipper was rubbing against my finger and I quickly open it up.

Looking around and sitting up on the table. I get out the body bag and I'm covered in blood. Slowly watching my step I take a peek out the hallway and look for any employees. There's a few but they're talking to each other. I notice a window on the other side of the room and there's a book self parallel to the window. So it's perfect it'll hide me while I sneak out.

Peeking again to see if the employees are still in their conversation. One of them walks away and waves bye. And the other looks at the file on the counter.

I run across quickly and I press myself against my window. Unlocking the window quickly and I slide it open. I get out quickly and I hear loud footsteps approaching me. Looking down from the window was a dumpster. It was black and it looked like nothing was in the dumpster. “Hey! What are you doing?!” I jump and don't look back, there was so much trash it was disgusting.

Ethan was waiting in his car around the corner and I walk down the sidewalk. I spot his car and I quickly approach it, I open the passenger door. “Oh my god. What happened?” I tap the dash signaling him to leave. “Let's go Ethan!” I look back as he takes off and he heads down the road.

After settling in at the motel. I take a hot shower to wash the blood and garbage smell off of me. Sure it was illegal to do what I did but I had my reasons. Ethan told me about it before it went down. We confessed that we liked each other a long time ago. Way before the murders. It still didn't faze me, I knew who Ethan was. The real Ethan, not the pretend person he tries to be for his father. He felt the same way for me and Ethan told me about the ambush before it happened. Ethan didn't want me to die so we got a good plan and executed it. I fell in love with him hard and fast, there's just something about him that drives me absolutely crazy. I would do anything for him. Even kill.

Exiting the shower I have the towel wrapped around me. I step into the cold room and Ethan turns around. “I got you some clothes love. We have four hours until our flight leaves. So we have time to kill.” He fails to hide his smirk and I chuckle lightly. I take the clothes and I get dressed in front of him. Ethan comes near me and he towers over me. “But of course, I do want to blow off some steam.” Ethan doesn't exactly say he wants to have sex he kind of shows it with his touch.

Suddenly I was right, his hands drop to my ass. We look into our eyes and Ethan immediately takes off the towel. It falls on the floor. Ethan gently guides me and places me on the bed. “You were so brave today baby.” Ethan praises as his hands roam over my body. I bite my lip and I look in his eyes.

He makes his way to my clit and he starts to rub it in slow circles. He exhaled and groaned as he watched me squirm underneath him. Ethan holds me in place and looks into my eyes. “You were such a good girl today. It's only fair I repay you.”

He unbuttons his pants and pulls them down along with his boxers. Ethan takes his base and rubs it along my slit. I moan softly then I grip bedsheets. Before I can beg for him to stop teasing he pushes himself into me. Gasping for air and I adjust to his size. “Oh fuck. You're so fucking tight.” Ethan leans down over me and he starts to thrust in me at a slow pace. I run my fingers through his curly hair and I pull on his hair a bit.

“Ethan. Harder baby.” I say with a moan on my lips, looking into his eyes deeply and hungrily. He picks up the pace and the room fills with our skin slapping together. My eyes roll back and my back arches off the mattress. “Oh fuck! Ethan don't stop baby!” I say while reaching down and rubbing my clit fast in a circular motion. He smiles and locks eyes with me, his hips snap harder and faster. “I could do this all day baby girl.” The creak of the bed can be heard underneath us, the room was filled with our moans and skin slapping together.

We're both a moaning mess, Ethan was close because he always does his signature move. He always raises my right leg and hooks it on his shoulder. Ethan gets close to me and his skin was covered in a thin layer of sweat. “You're close huh?” I say with a smile and look in his beautiful dark brown eyes. He nods quickly in response and I rub my clit faster. “I'm getting close Ethan.”

After a few more thrusts I came first. My body pulses and my legs shake around Ethan. Several moans escape my mouth and Ethan chases his own release. “Oh fuck y/n I'm going to come!” Ethan says uncontrollably. I love when he loses control like this. The feeling is powerful and sexy, it makes sense. He spills into me and his thrusts get slower and slower with each thrust. Eventually he comes to a stop, Ethan falls on top of me slowly. He buried his face into my neck and inhales deeply to steady his heart rate.

A few minutes pass and Ethan is laying on my stomach. I'm playing with his curls and staring into space. He picks his head up and looks up at me. “Do you love me?” My gaze snaps at the question and I look at him a little surprised. “Uhh.” Is literally all I could get out. Of course I love him. Once again I'm just not very good at showing it. Well, saying it.

I hold his chin and I look in his eyes seriously. “I do love you Ethan.” His response was a chuckle and a head shake. “Why are you so damn serious? It's a simple question. Not a Econ question” I burst out laughing and he does too.

We end the night running away together to another state. In love. Madly in love.

A/N: I feel like Ethan is the black sheep of the family. Hear me out, as a black sheep from experience, it's not hard to see how your parent only cares if you impress them. I feel like he was pressured or heavily convinced into getting revenge. Go back to this scene and really pay attention. Watch his expression and body language.

#ethan landry #jack champion #scream six #scream #ethan landry imagine #ethan landry smut #ghostface #ghostface smut #scream x reader #killer x reader #ethan landry x reader #smutty fanfiction #jack champion smut #ethan landry fanfiction

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lovelygirlwithablog · 3 days ago

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Mission: Amore

pairing: Harvey Specter x f!reader

Summary: Harvey Specter doesn’t do undercover missions—or romance. But in Milan with you, lines blur between duty and desire. As the mission turns deadly, Harvey realizes more than just his heart is at risk. Italy may be his toughest—and most personal—case yet.

Warnings: romance, friends to lovers, violence/action, mild language, emotional angst, alcohol use, mature themes, smut, p!v, fluff

A/N: i can't thank you enough for all the likes, reblogs and new followers (seriously, i'm jumping around my room😭). sorry for taking so long to post something but school is taking more time than usual (exam's month, yay) and I really hope you will like this story!! requests are always opened <3

The hum of the plane settled into a low, steady drone as you leaned back, staring out the window at the endless stretch of clouds and sky. This wasn’t how you’d pictured your first trip to Italy—sitting next to Harvey Specter on a red-eye flight with an agenda that would likely get you into trouble.

Harvey, of course, was completely unfazed. He looked relaxed, leaning back in his seat with his laptop open, typing away as if he were just on another late night at the office. The occasional clink of his cufflinks as he adjusted his shirt sleeve was the only sound breaking through the silence between you.

"Are you nervous?" he asked suddenly, without looking up.

You raised an eyebrow. "About the mission or sitting next to you for seven hours?"

He smirked, finally glancing over. “You tell me.”

Typical Harvey—throwing the question right back at you. You shifted in your seat, trying to shake the feeling that he could see right through your calm exterior. If he knew how tightly wound you were, or how the thought of being in close quarters with him for days was already tying your stomach into knots, he didn’t show it.

"Just hoping you don’t snore," you shot back. "Or hog the armrest."

He chuckled, the low, warm sound oddly comforting. "I don’t snore. And you can have the armrest, partner." He emphasized the last word.

You took a steadying breath and nodded, trying to match his calm, collected energy. "Fine. But just remember, this is a team effort."

His eyes softened just a little as he studied you, almost as if he were considering something he hadn’t allowed himself to think about until now. "Trust me. I know what’s at stake."

With that, he returned to his laptop, but you couldn’t shake the feeling off. Seven hours of flight lay ahead—and days in Milan after that. Somehow, you knew this trip would be more than you’d bargained for.

The private jet landed smoothly at Milan’s Malpensa Airport, and after a quick transfer, you found yourself stepping into the grand lobby of the hotel. The air was rich with the scent of fresh espresso and a hint of luxury. Ornate chandeliers hung from the ceiling, and marble floors gleamed underfoot.

Harvey walked beside you, exuding his usual confidence, his eyes scanning the area as if evaluating every detail. You couldn’t help but admire the way he carried himself—like he owned the place.

"Nice digs, right?" he said, glancing over at you with that trademark smirk. "I figured if we’re going to do this, we might as well do it in style."

"It’s certainly… impressive,"you replied, trying to hide your awe. "Just remember, we’re not here for the amenities."

“Relax,” he said, feigning innocence. “I’m just appreciating the view.” His eyes flicked to a couple of well-dressed guests across the lobby, then back to you. “Besides, a little luxury never hurt anyone, especially not when you’re about to dive into the center of Milan’s criminal scene.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t suppress a smile. “You’re impossible.”

“True, but it’s part of my charm,” he shot back, moving toward the reception desk. As you approached, the receptionist greeted Harvey with a smile, clearly recognizing him.

“Mr. Specter, welcome back,” she said, her eyes sparkling. “Your suite is ready.”

“Thank you,” he replied smoothly, flashing a grin that could charm the socks off anyone. He turned to you, raising an eyebrow. “I hope you’re ready for a little bit of luxury. I booked us a suite.”

“A suite?” You blinked in surprise, caught off guard. “I thought we were keeping things professional.”

“Professional doesn’t mean we have to be uncomfortable,” he countered, a playful glint in his eye. “Trust me, we’ll need the extra space to strategize.”

You could feel your heart race as you followed him to the elevator. As the doors slid closed, you both exchanged a glance.

When the doors opened to the suite, you stepped inside, taking in the plush furnishings, sweeping views of the city, and the unmistakable air of sophistication.

“Welcome to our temporary headquarters,” Harvey said, his voice low and teasing. “I’d say we’ve arrived in style.”

He stepped closer, leaning against the door frame with that familiar cocky demeanor. “As long as we’re on the same team, I think we’ll manage just fine.”

As night fell over Milan, you stepped out of the hotel with Harvey, the warm evening air brushing against your skin. The streets were alive with people, laughter, music, and the delicious smell of Italian food wafted through the air.

As you and Harvey settled into a cozy corner table at a Italian restaurant, the ambiance was warm and inviting, with flickering candlelight casting soft shadows around the room. You took a sip of the rich red wine the waiter had poured, letting the flavors swirl over your tongue.

“I can’t believe we’re in Milan,” you said, glancing around at the rustic decor and the delicious aromas wafting from the kitchen.

“Don’t get too comfortable. We have work to do,” he replied playfully, raising his glass in a mock toast. “But I guess a little wine never hurt anyone.”

Just then, a man approached your table—a tall, well-dressed stranger with dark hair and an easy smile. He seemed confident, exuding an effortless charm as he stopped beside you.

“Excuse me,” he said, addressing you directly. “I couldn’t help but notice you from across the room. Your smile could light up the entire city.” His accent was Italian, smooth and melodic.

Ah, the usual pick up line.

You weren't impressed, but, well, you're not always in Italy.

You glanced at Harvey, who remained quiet but stiffened slightly in his seat.

“Thank you,” you said, returning the man a smile.

“Matteo,” he introduced himself, a twinkle in his eye. “Would you mind if I joined you for a moment?”

Before you could think twice, you nodded. "Sure, that would be nice.”

Matteo slid into the empty seat across from you, and you could feel Harvey’s gaze, the atmosphere shifting subtly.

“So, what brings you to Milan?” Matteo asked, leaning in slightly.

You opened your mouth to answer, but before you could say anything, Harvey interjected, his tone smooth and casual. “We’re on our honeymoon,” he declared, a charming smile plastered on his face.

You blinked in surprise, momentarily caught off guard. “Uh—” you began, but Harvey continued seamlessly.

“I’m ‘Jack,’ and this is my beautiful wife, ‘Sophie,’” he said, his confidence unwavering. This were your false identities. Jack and Sophie Castens, a married couple from California.

Matteo’s expression faltered slightly, his eyes widening in surprise. “Oh, I see. Congratulations,” he said, forcing a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes.

You could sense the tension in the air, and the mood shifted. Matteo’s body language changed, becoming a bit more rigid as he looked between you and Harvey. “Well, it was nice to meet you both,” he said quickly, his charming demeanor fading. “Enjoy your evening.”

With that, Matteo stood up, his smile replaced by a polite but strained expression. He glanced at you once more before walking away.

You watched him go. “Wow, that was unexpected,” you said, glancing at Harvey, who wore an amused expression but was clearly hiding his irritation.

“Didn’t see that coming, did you?” he replied, a hint of satisfaction in his tone.

You shook your head, still processing what had just happened. “He didn’t even get a chance to say anything interesting.”

“Yeah, well, he shouldn’t have been flirting with my wife,” Harvey said, leaning back.

After the unexpected encounter with Matteo, you and Harvey decided to leave the restaurant and take a stroll through the streets of Milan. The city was alive with energy, the warm glow of street lamps illuminating the cobblestone paths.

As you walked side by side, the tension from dinner seemed to melt away. You could feel the electric atmosphere around you, and for a moment, it felt as if the city was yours alone. The stunning Duomo loomed in the distance, its intricate details bathed in soft light.

“This place is incredible,” you said, glancing up at the cathedral. “I could get lost here forever.”

“Don’t let it get to your head,” Harvey replied with a smirk, but there was a hint of warmth in his tone.

Just as your fingers brushed against his, his phone buzzed in his pocket, breaking the moment. He sighed, pulling it out and glancing at the screen.

“Work?” you asked, noting the slight annoyance in his expression.

“Yeah, quick call,” he said, answering it almost reluctantly. “I’ll be right back.”

You nodded, watching as he stepped a few paces away, his voice low and focused. You turned your gaze back to the beautiful streets, the blend of old architecture and modern life surrounding you. The atmosphere was buzzing, yet you couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off.

While Harvey spoke, you noticed a shadowy figure lingering at the edge of the plaza. Your heart skipped a beat as you recognized the clothing and stance—it matched the description of the criminal you were supposed to be tracking.

You glanced back at Harvey, who was still engaged in his call, his brow furrowed in concentration. The figure shifted, and your pulse quickened. You were about to call out to him when the man turned and disappeared into a narrow alley.

Your instincts kicked in. You hesitated, torn between wanting to alert Harvey and the urgency of remaining calm.

Harvey ended the call and walked back towards you, his expression shifting as he noticed your distraction. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah, I just thought I saw someone… Never mind,” you said, trying to brush it off while the adrenaline buzzed in your veins.

He studied you for a moment, concern flickering in his eyes. “You sure? We can keep walking if you want.”

You hesitated, then shook your head. “No, I’m fine. Let’s keep going.”

With a nod, Harvey stepped closer, his shoulder brushing against yours as you resumed walking. But as you moved forward, you couldn’t shake the feeling that you were on the edge of something. Someone.

Just as you were about to share your concern, a series of sharp, echoing gunshots rang out through the night.

Your heart raced as you instinctively grabbed Harvey’s arm, pulling him closer to you. “Did you hear that?” you whispered, the adrenaline surging through your veins.

He nodded, his expression shifting from relaxed to alert in an instant. “Stay close,” he said, scanning the street for any sign of danger.

You could see the tension in his posture as he led you towards a nearby alley, instinctively guiding you away from the noise. The sound of gunfire reverberated in your ears, sharp and shocking against the otherwise lively backdrop of the city.

“Do you think it’s—?” you began, but Harvey cut you off.

“Not here. We need to find cover,” he replied, his voice low and steady, a hint of urgency threading through his words.

As you turned into the alley, your heart pounded, the reality of the situation crashing down around you. You pressed against the cool stone wall, glancing back at the street, where shadows darted past in a panic.

“Stay quiet,” he murmured, his gaze fixed on the mouth of the alley. You nodded, your breath quickening as you realized that this was not just a night of sightseeing—it was quickly becoming a dangerous mission.

Harvey’s phone buzzed again, but he ignored it, fully focused on the unfolding situation.

Then, another shot rang out, closer this time, followed by a flurry of footsteps. You pressed yourself further against the wall, your pulse racing.

“Do you think they’re after us?” you whispered, the gravity of the situation hitting you hard.

“Just stay behind me,” he said, his voice calm but firm, as he stepped slightly in front of you, instinctively shielding you from whatever was about to unfold.

The sound of chaos erupted around you—people shouting, the clatter of heels against the cobblestones, and the metallic echo of gunfire. You exchanged a glance with Harvey, the unspoken understanding between you solidifying in that moment. You were in this together, and there was no turning back now.

The night had turned dark and dangerous, and as the sounds of violence continued, you felt a mix of fear and adrenaline coursing through your veins.

As the chaos unfolded outside, you pressed your back against the cool wall of the alley, your heart racing as adrenaline surged through you. Harvey’s eyes were focused, scanning the street where the gunfire had erupted. The weight of the moment hung heavy in the air, and you felt the danger closing in.

“Stay here,” he said, his voice low and steady. He stepped a bit further into the alley, trying to get a better look at what was happening. You could see the tension in his shoulders, the way he prepared for anything that might come next.

Then, without warning, a figure appeared at the mouth of the alley—a masked man, his gun drawn and aimed into the night. Harvey’s instincts kicked in, and he raised his own weapon, ready to take action.

“Harvey, wait!” you shouted, panic rising in your chest, but it was too late.

The sound of gunfire rang out again, and you froze, your eyes wide as Harvey pulled the trigger. Just as he was about to fire, another shot rang out—a sharp crack that seemed to split the air.

Time slowed. You watched in horror as the bullet struck Harvey, hitting him square in the side. He stumbled back, his expression shifting from determination to shock as he gasped, clutching his side.

“Harvey!” you screamed, rushing forward as he fell against the wall, pain reflecting across his features.

He managed to keep his grip on his gun, but you could see the blood seeping through his shirt. Panic surged through you as you knelt beside him, your hands shaking. “Oh my God, what do I do?”

“Get down!” he grunted, struggling to stay conscious, his voice strained.

You quickly ducked down beside him, your heart racing. You could hear the sounds of chaos growing louder as more footsteps approached, the shadows of more figures moving closer. You had to act fast.

“Harvey, I need to get you out of here,” you said, your voice trembling as you pressed your hands against the wound, trying to staunch the flow of blood.

“Don’t… don’t let them see you,” he managed to say, his breath coming in sharp gasps.

Your mind raced, torn between the urgency of the moment and the overwhelming fear gripping you. “I can’t leave you,” you said, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes.

“Trust me,” he whispered, his voice barely above a whisper. “You need to go.”

You shook your head, desperation clawing at your throat. “I’m not leaving you here!”

“Listen to me,” he insisted, a fierce determination burning in his eyes despite the pain. “Get to safety. Call for help.”

Suddenly, more shots rang out, and the figures were drawing nearer. You could see the silhouettes in the dim light, their intentions clear.

Just then, a surge of adrenaline coursed through you. You couldn’t let them find you here. With one last, frantic look at Harvey, you made the decision. You would follow his orders, but you weren’t leaving without a fight.

“I’ll be back,” you promised, your voice steady despite the fear threatening to overwhelm you. You squeezed his hand tightly, giving him a final look of determination before slipping deeper into the shadows of the alley, heart pounding and breath hitching, ready to do whatever it took to save him.

With your heart racing and adrenaline pumping, you found a small vantage point, crouching behind a stack of crates. Peering out into the street, you saw the masked figures advancing, their weapons drawn and aimed at the fleeing crowd. Fear gripped the bystanders as they scattered, but you couldn't let them become victims tonight.

Taking a deep breath, you steadied your shaking hands. You had trained for situations like this, and while you had never imagined you'd be in a life-or-death scenario, the skills you had honed kicked into high gear. You couldn't let fear dictate your actions. You were going to fight back.

You spotted a clear target—a thug aiming his gun at a terrified couple, his finger tightening on the trigger. Without thinking, you raised your own weapon, the weight of it feeling surprisingly comfortable in your grip. You focused on your breath, silencing the chaos around you as you took aim.

BANG!

The shot rang out, echoing through the night. The thug dropped to the ground, surprise etched on his face as he crumpled.

Your heart raced.

You shifted your aim to another figure who was attempting to intimidate a group of young people.

BANG!

Another shot. Another thug fell, and you felt the power of your actions ignite a fire within you.

"Get down!" you shouted to the civilians, urging them to find cover as you continued to take out the armed threats one by one.

Each shot was precise, calculated. Your training kicked in, and you fell into a rhythm, moving with confidence and purpose.

As the remaining thugs realized they were being picked off one by one, panic spread among them. They began to turn on each other, unsure of where the threat was coming from. You felt a surge of adrenaline as you ducked behind cover, scanning the area for any remaining targets.

"Drop your weapons!" you shouted, your voice steady and commanding. The remaining thugs hesitated, fear creeping into their expressions as they weighed their options.

One of them raised his gun, but you were quicker.

BANG!

The shot rang out, and he fell to the ground, his weapon clattering beside him. The others dropped their guns, surrendering as they realized they were no match for you.

Breathing heavily, you turned to the group of bystanders who had sought refuge, their eyes wide with shock and gratitude. "Is everyone okay?" you asked, scanning the crowd for any signs of injury.

They nodded. Just then, you remembered Harvey. "I need to get Harvey!" you shouted, rushing back to where you had left him.

You found him leaning against the wall, his face pale.

"Y/N..." he said, a hint of a smile breaking through the pain.

"Did you doubt me?" you replied, kneeling beside him and pressing your hand over the wound to staunch the bleeding. Tears were starting to fall down your cheeks. "I'm getting you out of here."

Before he could respond, the sound of approaching sirens grew louder, and the realization of the situation settled in. You had done it. You saved lives.

The sterile scent of antiseptic filled the air as you paced back and forth in the hospital waiting room, your heart racing. The chaos of the night was behind you, but the weight of it pressed heavily on your chest. After the gunfire subsided, the paramedics had arrived swiftly, transporting Harvey away on a stretcher, his face pale and strained.

You had insisted on going with him, but they had gently but firmly told you to stay behind. “We’ll take care of him. He needs you to stay calm and wait,” one of the paramedics had said, but the reassurance did little to quell the anxiety swirling inside you.

Now, all you could do was wait. The fluorescent lights overhead buzzed softly, illuminating the small room filled with uncomfortable plastic chairs and the distant sounds of hospital machinery. You could feel your heart thudding in your chest as you replayed the events of the night over and over in your mind.

You leaned against the wall, glancing at the clock. You took a deep breath, trying to steady yourself. Harvey had been there for you; now you needed to be strong for him.

Every time the automatic doors opened, your pulse quickened, hoping it would be a doctor coming to give you news. You watched families come and go, some faces filled with joy, others with despair, and you felt a knot tighten in your stomach. What if something happened to him? What if he didn’t make it?

Just as you began to spiral into a haze of anxiety, the doors swung open again, and a doctor in scrubs entered the waiting room. Your heart leaped into your throat as you approached him, desperate for answers.

“Are you here for Harvey Specter?” the doctor asked, looking at you.

“Yes! How is he?” you replied, your voice trembling.

“He’s stable. We were able to stop the bleeding, but he will need to undergo surgery to repair the damage,” the doctor explained, his tone calm but serious.

Relief flooded through you, but it was quickly followed by a wave of concern. “Can I see him?” you asked, needing to be by his side.

“Not just yet. He’s in surgery now, but you can wait here. The nurses will keep you updated,” the doctor replied, giving you a reassuring nod before turning to leave.

You watched him go, your heart still racing. He was alive—Harvey was alive. You took a deep breath, trying to calm the whirlwind of emotions inside you.

You returned to your seat, fingers tapping nervously against your thigh as you stared at the wall, lost in thought. The events of the night replayed in your mind—the gunfire, the adrenaline, and how you had taken control. But now, all you felt was helplessness.

As you stared at the wall, you realized you didn’t just care about Harvey as a colleague or a partner; it was deeper than that.

Harvey had risked everything to protect you, and you were determined to show him just how much he meant to you.

"Y/N L/N." a voice suddenly calls for you. It's one of the nurses that was in and out of Harvey's room.

You stand up quick and look at her, your heart beating out of your chest.

"You can see him." she spoke, her italian accent coming to the surface as she elaborates. "He is stable and will leave the hospital tomorrow."

"Gosh, thank you," you finally manage to smile.

You walk slowly into the room and close the door behind you.

"Y/N," you heard Harvey whispering and you ran to his bed.

"Harvey..." you sat on a chair beside him. You looked at him and touched his face with your fingers. "I thought I lost you..." your voice cracks as tears begin to pile in the corners of your eyes.

"I wouldn't give you that joy." he smiles. God, that beautiful smile.

You smile softly and nod.

"I-I can't imagine a life without you in it." you look away from his eyes.

Before he could speak, the nurse comes back into the room.

"Miss, I'm going to ask you to leave. We have to run some tests on his body. He is going to be fine."

You look at him one more time and leave.

You pace the hotel room, the echo of the news that Harvey would be okay doing little to calm the tight coil of worry in your chest. The soft thud of your footsteps blends with the muffled city sounds outside, each second stretching longer than the last.

Suddenly, the door clicks open, and you whirl around to find Harvey stepping in. His suit jacket is draped over one arm, and a few stitches run along his brow, stark against his otherwise composed expression.

“Are you kidding me?” you snap, relief and anger tangled in your voice. “You should be in the hospital, not strutting back here like it’s just another day at the office.”

He smirks, the hint of exhaustion in his eyes betraying his voice. "Missed me?”

You glare at him, folding your arms as your pulse quickens for an entirely different reason.

“You’re unbelievable, Harvey. You think this is funny? You scared the hell out of me.”

For a moment, his expression softens, and the room falls into silence. Harvey steps closer, his smirk fading. “I know,” he says, voice lower, more honest. “I’m sorry.”

The apology catches you off guard. It’s rare for Harvey to admit when he’s wrong, let alone with the hint of vulnerability you now see in his eyes. You stare at him, words momentarily escaping you, as the anger simmers into something softer, something that feels like the ache you’ve been holding onto for far too long.

“Sorry doesn’t cover it,” you say, the tension in your shoulders slowly unwinding as you drop your arms to your sides. “You could have—” Your voice cracks before you can finish the thought, and you turn away, unable to look at him without remembering the hospital room, the bandages, the sight of him lying motionless in blood.

You feel him step closer, close enough that the heat from his body warms your back. “Hey,” he says softly, and you squeeze your eyes shut, trying to ignore how his voice makes your pulse flutter.

“I’m here now, and I’m okay.”

You let out a shaky breath and turn to face him. The distance between you is almost nothing, and you can see the faint trace of exhaustion in the way his eyes narrow. Without thinking, your hand reaches up to touch the edge of the stitches, gentle enough that he barely flinches.

“You’re not invincible, Harvey,” you whisper, your eyes meeting his. “One day you won’t be fine."

His hand finds yours, pressing it against his cheek.

“Then I guess I’ll have to make sure that day never comes.”

Your heart lurches at his promise. Before you can say anything else, Harvey leans in, eyes searching yours for permission, and in that moment, all the worry, all the fear melts away.

“Harvey,” you whisper, but before you can say anything else, he closes the distance, capturing your lips with his. The kiss is gentle at first, hesitant, as if testing the waters. But then, the weight of everything unsaid—years of banter, stolen glances, unspoken confessions—crashes over both of you, and the kiss deepens.

Your hands find their way to the lapels of his shirt, gripping them as if to anchor yourself to this moment, to him.

Harvey’s fingers thread through your hair, pulling you closer until there’s not a breath between you. The world outside the hotel room dissolves, leaving just the two of you, tangled in the realization that whatever this is, it’s real, and it’s been waiting too long to be acknowledged.

When you finally pull apart, your breath comes in quick, unsteady gasps, and Harvey’s forehead rests against yours. His eyes flutter open, and he smiles—soft and genuine in a way you’ve only seen glimpses of before.

“Took us long enough,” he murmurs, and you can’t help but laugh, the sound breaking through the last of the tension.

“Yeah,” you say, fingers still curled in his shirt. “It did.”

Harvey tilts his head, searching your face as if to commit every detail to memory. There's a question there, one you answer by closing the distance and brushing your lips against his again, this time slower, savoring his taste.

His hands slide down your arms, resting at your waist before moving to the hem of your shirt. He hesitates, giving you a moment to pull back, but you don't. Instead, you reach up, guiding his jacket off his shoulders and letting it fall to the floor in a careless heap.

Your heartbeat thunders in your ears as he tugs your shirt up, and you lift your arms to help, your skin tingling as the fabric slips away.

The soft, shared gasps echo in the quiet room as he traces a line up your spine, pulling you close. The heat of his touch sears through every inch of you, erasing the worry and fear. You reach for the buttons of his shirt, fingers fumbling as he watches you.

"Careful," he whispers, the smirk returning for just a moment.

You roll your eyes playfully before finishing with the last button and sliding the shirt off his broad shoulders. His expression shifts again, back to something serious, as he cups your face with one hand, eyes searching yours before leaning in.

Harvey’s hands guide you toward the edge of the bed, movements slow and deliberate as if savoring every moment.

You step back until your legs meet the bed, and you sink down, pulling him with you. The mattress dips under you, and a quiet laugh slips from your lips as Harvey’s arm wraps around your waist, steadying you both. His laughter joins yours before he kisses you again.

He leans down, pressing a trail of kisses from your shoulder to your collarbone, each touch making your pulse race faster.

Every touch, every look is unhurried, filled with understanding that neither of you has to rush; there’s nowhere else you’d rather be.

Harvey's body pressed into yours, the warmth between you making everything else fade away. His lips find your neck again, kissing and nibbling with a tenderness that makes your breath hitch. You tilt your head back, giving him more access as his hands roam to your back, trailing over your skin, sending shivers down your spine.

His lips move lower, brushing across your collarbone and down toward your chest. You feel his breath against your skin, the heat of him making your heart race faster. His hands gently guide you to lie back, following the curve of your body, as he peppers soft kisses along your ribs, your stomach, each kiss slow, deliberate, as if he wants to memorize every inch of you.

You let out a soft sigh, fingers running through his hair, urging him closer as his lips continue their path lower. Your breath catches when his lips brush just above your stomach, the sensation making your body tremble beneath him. Harvey pauses for a moment, lifting his head, his eyes meeting yours.

"You're perfect," he murmurs, his voice low and rough, before kissing his way back up, his lips finding yours again in a searing kiss.

Harvey's hands slide over your body with a slow, deliberate touch, each movement sending a jolt of warmth through you. His lips follow the trail of his fingers, pressing gentle, hungry kisses against your neck, your collarbone-lingering on the sensitive skin beneath your ear.

"God, you're incredible," he whispers, his voice thick with desire. You shiver at the praise, the way his breath feels against your skin.

Your hands find their way to his body, his chest rising and falling in rhythm with your own hurried breaths. His lips are back on your skin, kissing and teasing their way down.

His hands slide down your sides, fingers brushing the edges of your body.

"Harvey," you gasp, pulling him closer, your fingers threading through his hair, your body arching into his. "Please..."

His eyes lock onto yours. "I need you to know how much l've wanted this," he says. "You're everything l've been trying not to want."

His lips press firmly against yours, stealing your breath as his hands move to the small of your back, pulling you impossibly close, as if there's no room left for anything but the two of you.

You run your hands down the length of his back, feeling the heat of his body.

You're breathless now, your heart racing as you let your hands slide down his chest, fingertips brushing the hard muscles beneath his skin. "You have me," you whisper, your voice a little shaky, but full of conviction. "And I don't think you'll ever be able to walk away from that, Harvey."

His lips crash back onto yours in a heated kiss, one that leaves you breathless and dizzy. His hands move to your waist, lifting you effortlessly and laying you back on the bed. Every movement between you is slow, deliberate, like he's savoring every moment, every kiss.

"I'm not going anywhere, Y/N," he murmurs against your lips. "Not now. Not ever."

You instinctively tilt your head up to kiss him, but he pulls back, leaving just enough space to make you ache for more.

"Do you really want me, Y/N?" he asks you.

Your grip on his neck tightens as you whisper softly. "You have no idea," you reply.

He laughs softly. "Good," he says , pressing a gentle kiss to the corner of your mouth before pulling back once more. "Because I'm not done with you yet."

You pout.

"So impatient, angel..." he teases, glancing at you. "I thought you liked taking things slow."

"Harvey... Please..." you whisper.

He smiles and kisses your soft lips again, this time more gentle and slow.

"Are you sure you want this, Y/N?"

"You... you don't know how much I needed you all this time."

He stood just inches away, his eyes searching yours with an intensity that could break through steel.

“You know,” he began, his voice barely above a whisper but deep enough to send a shiver down your spine, “I’ve won a hundred cases, closed deals worth billions, and walked into rooms knowing I’d come out on top.”

He paused, exhaling slowly.

“But standing here with you—right now—it’s the first time I’ve felt afraid. Not afraid to lose, but afraid of what it means to finally win. To finally have you."

He reached out, his fingers brushing against yours, igniting a spark that seemed to fill the entire room. “Because with you, it’s never been a game. It’s everything.”

For a moment, the only sound was the slow, rhythmic beat of your hearts.

And then, you wrapped your arms around him and kissed him.

He takes of your skirt and throws it across the room as you undo his belt and take off his pants.

You take off your own underwear as he does the same. You look down and damn, he was big.

"Y/N..." he whispers your name before kissing you hungrily.

"I know..." you bite his bottom lip.

He looks at you with those beautiful brown eyes and slowly enters inside you.

You both moan at the sensation and you wrap his legs around his waist.

"Oh, fuck..." he lets out a soft whimper. "You're so tight," he kisses you.

You smile and lift your hips slowly. He starts to push his cock into your pussy, stretching you out like no one ever could.

You moan at the feeling of him inside you. Gosh, how much you waited for this. How much you imagined this, daydreaming about it. But it was so, so much better.

He adds two of his fingers on your clit as he continues to push in and out of you.

"Deeper," you manage to say in between moans.

"Princess..." he kisses your neck, biting your soft skin. "I..." he smiles.

"Yes, baby boy?" you praise him.

And well, you didn't know that was one of his weak spots. But you sure discovered that when he pushed deeper into you, squeezing the pillow behind your head.

He trembles slowly and kisses your lips.

"What did you say?" he teases you.

You bite your lips as you smile. "Baby boy?"

"Mhm..." he kisses you, passionately and hungrily.

"Fuck, Harvey..." you moan louder. "I'm close."

"Me too, baby, me too." he bit your bottom lip.

As he pushed inside your wet pussy, you came, trembling.

"Harvey!" you scream his name in pleasure.

"Yes, that's it. Come on, baby," he doesn't stop. "Fuck, I'm coming too."

He closed his eyes and let out a soft moan as he came inside you, his warm cum filling you up.

He kissed you before he collapsed beside you.

You lay against Harvey, your head resting on his chest, the rise and fall of his breathing slowly bringing you both back to reality.

Harvey’s hand, warm and steady, was lightly grazing your back, his fingers drawing gentle patterns along your skin. His thumb brushed over the curve of your spine, the touch soothing and tender.

“Love..." Harvey murmured, his voice low and soft. "Are you okay?”

You nodded against his chest, feeling his muscles flex as his arm tightened slightly around you, pulling you a little closer. “Yeah,” you whispered back. “Just… you’re good at that.”

He chuckled, but there was no smugness in it, only warmth. “I know,” he replied, teasing just a bit. “But seriously, I want to make sure you’re okay. Anything that you need, my princess?"

His hand moved to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, his fingers grazing your skin with tenderness.

“I’m good,” you said, meeting his eyes with a smile. “Better than good, actually.”

Harvey grinned, and for a second, it was as if you saw a hint of something more vulnerable behind those sharp, dark eyes. He pressed a kiss to your forehead, lingering there for just a moment before pulling you even closer.

“You’re incredible,” he murmured, his voice soft and full of affection.

You felt your heart soften at his words. It was rare for him to be this open, to be this tender, but in that moment, it felt right. You shifted to look up at him, smiling.

“Do you mean that?” you asked, your voice quiet but full of sincerity.

He met your gaze with an intensity that matched the depth of his feelings. “I wouldn’t say it if I didn’t.”

You could feel the security in his words, the comfort in his touch. Harvey Specter, always the man who seemed to have everything under control, had a way of making you feel cared for in a way that only he could.

After a few moments of quiet, you sighed contentedly, snuggling even closer. Harvey shifted beneath you, adjusting so that your head was resting more comfortably against his chest. He kissed the top of your head, and for the first time that night, you both just relaxed, letting the peace of the moment wash over you.

He leaned down to kiss you, slow and deep. The kiss was different this time—gentler, filled with more meaning than anything physical. It was a kiss of assurance, of love, of something real.

You hummed, a small, content sound escaping your lips as your body surrendered to the warmth and comfort. The next thing you knew, your breathing had evened out, your mind had quieted, and you were drifting into sleep.

But just as you were about to slip fully into dreamland, you heard Harvey’s voice again—so soft, so tender, it made your heart skip a beat.

“I love you, angel,” he whispered, his words meant only for you, his breath warm against your skin. “More than you’ll ever know.”

And with that promise, you closed your eyes, your body finally settling into the safe haven of his arms.

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