#to me and gave me all the space to do it in my time here

[4vanaa]

WHILE YOU WERE SLEEPING, rafe cameron, 20

summary: y/n left the outer banks years ago, determined to build a life far from the memories of her childhood love, rafe cameron. now a botanist, she's moved on-though a quiet part of her still clings to the past. when an event brings her back to OBX, she's forced to confront the one person she never truly forgot.

cw: none | masterlist | 19 | 21 |

The group was buzzing, the energy in the club electric after the wedding rehearsal. Everyone had fallen into their own rhythm—JJ and Cleo tearing it up on the dance floor, Topper and Kelce playing some obnoxious drinking game, and Sarah holding court with John B by one of the lounge booths.

You stood by the bar, waiting for your drink, the crowd shifting and pulsing around you. The sleek black dress you wore fit like a second skin, the neckline daring, the slit high enough to turn heads. Your hair fell in soft waves over your shoulders, catching the soft glow of the club’s neon lights.

You weren’t trying to get attention, but you weren’t blind to the effect you had—least of all on him. You felt it before you saw it, that familiar, heavy stare. Your skin prickled as you glanced sideways, catching Rafe standing a few feet away. He leaned casually against the bar, his sharp jaw illuminated by the amber glow of a nearby light.

His drink hung lazily in his hand, but his piercing gaze was anything but casual, trailing over you in a way that sent a shiver down your spine.

“Please don’t look at me like that,” you said, your voice low but cutting as you turned to him fully.

Rafe didn’t flinch. If anything, his smirk deepened. He pushed off the bar slightly, stepping closer, his towering frame making the space between you feel even smaller.

“Why not?” His blue eyes flickered down to your lips for just a moment before meeting yours again. “I like looking at you.”

You faltered, swallowing thickly under his gaze. “You know what you’re doing.”

“I really don’t.”

He shrugged, though his smirk gave him away.

“Just noticing you, Sunshine. Can’t help it when you look like that.”

His eyes flicked down, slow and deliberate, taking you in. Your lips parted, your breath hitching slightly. You recovered quickly, crossing your arms in front of your chest, your lips curving into a faint, teasing smile.

“Careful, Cameron,” you said, leaning slightly closer, your voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper.

“You’re starting to sound a little obsessed.”

Rafe’s smirk didn’t falter, but there was a flicker of something darker in his eyes.

“Oh, I passed a little a long time ago.”

Your cheeks heated, but you refused to let him see you squirm. Instead, you tilted your head, your gaze locking onto his like a challenge.

“You know my boyfriend’s right over there, right?”

Rafe’s smirk twitched, and you could see his jaw tighten just slightly. “Yeah,” he said, his voice lower now, quieter. “Doesn’t change anything.”

Your heart stuttered, and you hated the way it did. Hated the way his voice still had this effect on you, the way he seemed to see right through you.

“Rafe,” you warned, your voice soft but firm.

“What?” he asked, leaning in just enough that you could smell the faint mix of his cologne and whiskey.

“Am I not allowed to notice how good you look? You’re impossible not to look at, Y/N. Impossible to ignore.”

Your breath hitched again, and you couldn’t stop the slight flutter in you chest, no matter how much you tried. You leaned back slightly, your fingers curling around the bar for support.

“You should try harder.”

He chuckled softly, shaking his head. “Believe me, I’ve tried.” Something about the way he said it—low, honest, like a confession—made your chest tighten.

You exhaled sharply, shaking your head. “I came here to apologize, not... this.”

“For what?” His voice softened, his smirk fading.

“For what I said to you at the chateau,” you admitted, fidgeting with your drink straw. “I didn’t mean it, not all of it. I was angry.”

“It’s fine,” he murmured, leaning closer, his voice low and deliberate. “You don’t owe me anything, Y/N. But that doesn’t mean I don’t feel how I feel.”

“You were right, though. I haven’t done much to prove you wrong.”

You sighed. “Still. I shouldn’t have said it like that.”

There was a pause, heavy with unspoken words.

“Y/N,” he murmured, stepping closer, “do you ever think about—”

You cut him off, stepping back. “Rafe, stop.”

But he didn’t. “What if you just let yourself—”

“Rafe.” Your tone was firmer this time, but the way your cheeks flushed betrayed you.

“You’re unbelievable,” you muttered, your tone lighter again, teasing even.

“And you’re beautiful,” he shot back without hesitation, his voice soft but firm, like he couldn’t hold it in any longer.

Before you could respond, the bartender slid your drink in front of you, breaking the moment. You grabbed it quickly, needing the excuse to pull away.

“Look,” you said quietly. “I don’t want this to be weird during the wedding. Sarah’s my friend, and—”

“I’ll behave,” Rafe cut you off, his smirk returning. “Scout’s honor.”

“Good,” you replied, stepping back. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Enjoy the rest of your night, Cameron,” you said lightly, your tone airy as if you weren’t fighting the heat rising to your cheeks.

Your turned on your heel, walking back toward Noah. You felt Rafe’s eyes burning into you as you moved.

When you reached Noah, you didn’t hesitate. “Hey, babe,” you said, your voice soft and warm as you slid an arm around his waist.

He turned to you, his face lighting up instantly. “Hey, sweetheart. Everything okay?”

“Perfect,” you murmured before standing on your toes and pulling him into a slow, deliberate kiss.

Noah blinked in surprise but quickly melted into it, his hand resting lightly on your lower back. When you pulled away, you smiled up at him, your gaze warm and steady.

Rafe watched from the bar, his drink untouched in his hand, his jaw tight. The knot in his chest grew tighter, the sharp sting of jealousy and longing intertwining in a way that made him dizzy.

You caught his eye over Noah’s shoulder as you walked past, your expression unreadable but deliberate.

It was a silent message, and it hit its mark.

Rafe’s grip on his glass tightened as he downed the rest of his drink in one go, the burn doing nothing to dull the ache.

🏷️: @xoxo-ada @sabrina-carpenter-stan-account @sleepiibunniiii @urbrunettebombshell @sideboobrry11 @acidfeens @marleymarleymarleymarley @hadids-world @ursogorgeous13 @louxmcl @cyberkitty1 @pogueprincesa @drewrry @the-oracle-at-delphinitely-not

a/n: i was very inspired by this edit. GO BIRDS 🦅 🦅

[waywardstation]

Take a Break

It's a rainy day today, and everyone is stuck inside the Galaxy Hall. Good thing Akari has brought in a fun board game for everyone to play! Commander Kamado is not exempt, even if he is buried in paperwork.

Here is my piece for the Hisui Chronicles Zine! It was so much fun getting to write this for the project, and such a huge honor to be invited to do so by the mods! Mods, thank you again so much for having me in the zine, and for all the work you did putting it all together!! It came out fantastic!

If you have the zine, you can find this work within and see its accompanying spot art! They're really fantastic pieces, all drawn by Sensushimi!

You can check out the zine at @hisuizine here on tumblr and on twitter; leftover sales are currently open! :)

OR read it here on AO3!

Enjoy!

–––––

Another flash of lightning glared through the rain-streaked windows to illuminate Kamado’s office. The commander gave no thought to look up from his paperwork as the deep rumble of thunder followed close behind, rolling somewhere above — the storm’s impressive display had been a common occurance all day, and he had grown used to it.

So used to it, in fact, that it felt like it was beginning to overstay its welcome. Having rolled in on dark clouds the night before, the rainfall had long since sufficiently watered the fieldlands. Now, it wasn’t doing much more than swelling the rivers, oversaturating the ground, and unnecessarily pelting Jubilife and its residents.

It certainly halted work for the Galaxy Team’s members today. No surveying, no construction, no farming… Kamado couldn’t send anyone out in these conditions under good conscience, and had dismissed everyone who had reported for work that morning. Efficiency was the pride of any respectable organization, but it meant nothing if safety was not considered. Practically every worker who reported in that morning had been quick to agree to this, but Kamado felt it was more in the interest of wanting to go back to bed and catch a few more hours of sleep.

It wasn’t all bad, though; vicious weather hopefully meant no meetings. No need to settle disagreements between disgruntled villagers, bargain with advantageous Ginkgo members, or play middleman between clashing clan leaders. Kamado did appreciate that it gave him a much-needed chance to finally look over a few backed up work orders, as well as notices for final approval and acknowledgement. 

Writing off the current one before him — a notice from the Ginkgo Guild that two supply ships would need the docks next month upon their arrival — and setting it aside, Kamado plucked the next one from off the top of the pile.

Let’s see… A request from Captains Sanqua and Colza, petitioning permission for the construction and agriculture departments to collaborate on new facilities and expansions in the crop fields. That seemed reasonable, what with the recent arrival of four new families to Jubilife—

“ NO! Akari!” A sudden shout downstairs from Rei ripped Kamado’s attention away from the words on the page. “Please don’t, you know it’s the last one I need!”

“Buy it! Buy it! He’s trying to start setting down those housing pieces!” A resounding objection followed, unmistakably from Zisu.

…Ah, yes. The small group of Galaxy Team members who did not run home the moment they had been dismissed.

Even through the barrier of closed office doors and an entire floor between them, the group’s excited shouts still slipped through to reach him. For most of the afternoon, it seemed their commotion and the thunderstorm had been competing to be the loudest disruption in the hall. 

And currently, the thunder was not winning.

They were playing that game. The one Akari had saved from a space-time distortion the day before. The one that she had nagged him to play with her and everyone else who had decided to stay at the hall this morning.

She had gushed about how fun it was and how she’d properly teach everyone how to play. And perhaps it really was as enjoyable as she had advertised, what with how spirited everyone was downstairs, still fully engaged in it hours later. But the temptation of partaking in a game was weak in the face of untouched paperwork that had already been neglected.

Kamado huffed to himself at the recollection. That sky-faller was a different breed, braving the unstable pockets to bring back such toys and playthings so regularly. Sometimes, it was cards. Other times, it was a colorful board game with most of its pieces. And occasionally it was something different all together, consisting of game pieces that looked as novel and bizarre as the rules sounded. 

Regardless though, it always extracted a very… disruptive energy from anyone who got involved.

Sighing through his nose and reclining back in his chair, Kamado tentatively attempted to redirect his attention back to his paperwork — he had a goal to finish it all by this afternoon, and planned to follow through with that goal. Straightening the paper in his hands, he tentatively leaned back into reading.

Sanqua was requesting approval on preparing land for additional farming plots and another storage shed. There was an attached list of required materials and a projected estimate for—

“Wait! I’ll buy it from you!” Rei’s pleas severed Kamado’s weak thread of concentration before it could even fully recover. “How much do you want for it?”

A quick, coveted second of silent thought before Akari threw her voice into the fray. “Six-hundred!”

“What? No! It says it’s only two-hundred!”

“You asked how much I wanted for it, not how much it costs! Besides, you have like three times the money I do, this is nothing for you!”

“I’ve been saving them for all the houses!”

The sky once again illuminated the office with a flash as the bickering went back and forth. It only seemed to have reached a resolution after it was drowned out by a disruptive roll of thunder. The animated negotiation had reduced back to a level that made it audible yet indecipherable as the rumbling faded, but Kamado didn’t even bother attempting to return his focus to the papers.  

“Ooh, Community Chest!” Akari’s voice rose up after a moment of jumbled conversation. “Here, read it!”

A moment of heavy silence, presumably as someone was handed a card to decipher their fate. Kamado’s eyes glanced back down at his paperwork, but he was too busy anticipating the impending shouts to read any of the words.

“I’m being thrown into jail!? ” Laventon’s voice lamented with an anguish that evoked a wave of collective exclamations so loud, Kamado reflexively looked up at his office doors; at this point, it was like they had taken the game up the staircase to continue playing right on the other side!

He could not get any work done like this. Especially if they had somehow even roped the professor of all people into the game — he was one of the few people Kamado had expected to do the same as him, using the day off as an opportunity to barricade himself in his office and tuck into his work uninterrupted. And unfortunately, once Laventon became invested in something, he became almost as enthusiastic as the Pearl Clan warden who had been shouting downstairs quite loudly over the last half an hour.

Heaving himself out of his desk chair and crossing the room with a certain unwillingness, Kamado cracked open one of the heavy office doors and slipped through, heading for the stairs to begin his descent down to the madness below.

––––––––––

“...Forty-eight, forty-nine, fifty.” Akari quickly skimmed through the thin paper money before setting it aside, her Cyndaquil observing from her lap all the while. “Paid your bail! Your crimes are forgiven, you’re free to go next turn.”

“Ah yes, the criminal offense of simply picking the wrong card…” Laventon gave his unlucky card one last look before handing it to Akari so she could tuck it away. 

“Well look, I’m in there visiting you at least,” Rei pulled his hand out of a bag of snacks to point Laventon towards his metal piece on the board; while the professor’s figure was confined within the barred section of the square, Rei’s was sitting on the safe outer strip labeled ‘just visiting’ . “I’ll be here for you when you’re a free man again.”

“Thank you, my boy, though I sorely needed that two-hundred I was about to collect!”

Rei lit up at this, giving Laventon a look that Akari had learned to be wary of.

“…If I give you three-hundred right now, can you help me bankrupt Akari and get Festival Plaza from her?”

“Hey!” Akari intervened before Laventon could even give his answer. “You can’t do that!”

“Yes I can! Come on, Professor,” Rei flashed him a set of three yellow paper bills, “your new hardened life of crime should make this an easy choice!” 

“I’ll take that offer if he doesn’t!” Bagin saw his chance to jump on the offer when Laventon, clearly torn, stalled on his words.

“ No! No one’s getting bribed! Just pass the dice, Professor!” Akari reached across the board to firmly guide Laventon’s hands towards Ingo, who was sitting right next to him. Appearing a little victimized yet relieved at the chance to escape the situation, the professor hastily dropped the dice into Ingo’s waiting hands. 

“Ah, my turn has arrived now, I suppose.” Holding the dice close, the warden gently shook them. The uncertainty in his wording gave away his hesitance… which was understandable, given his present situation.

His poor piece, a metal figure representing what Akari had reminded him was a modern-day aether, was stationed right before the only three property squares that Zisu had bought. 

With every single property choked with green and red buildings, it was a short but fatal stretch of unforgiving financial hell. A ‘Community Chest’ square separating the second and third tiles was the only safe space between them, but Ingo wasn’t counting on being lucky enough to land on it.

“Get ready to pay up, Ingo.” Zisu leaned forward in anticipation, like a Purugly crouching in the tall grass and waiting for a Starly to turn its back.

“Please allow me to traverse these tracks safely,” Ingo begged the dice before releasing them onto the board. “Five or greater, that’s all I need—”

Every pair of eyes around the board was glued to the two plastic pieces as they rolled, their quiet anticipation being held just long enough to hear the muffled pattering of rain against the hall’s roof. The tumbling pair of dice slowed to a stop, and Ingo’s unfortunate fate was declared as matching pairs of black dots stared back up at him — a double roll amounting to the grand total of four.

“AUGH!” Ingo lamented above the collective shouts that rose up.

“Oooh, so close!” Zisu leaned over towards him, pinching his metal game piece and sliding it right into the hotel-infested deathtrap that was her third property square. Then, the same empty hand extended towards him expectantly. “Alright, Join Avenue’s rent is due. Cough it up!”

“Please, Miss Zisu.” Ingo attempted to appeal to his coworker’s empathy as he began to thumb through the few paper bills he still had; mostly consisting of fifties, it clearly wouldn’t be enough to cover what he owed, judging by the amount of hotels surrounding his piece. “I am unsure if I can even afford such an exorbitant amount!”

“Well, that’s what happens when you blow all your money buying those railways off everyone!” Zisu took a teasing jab at him, but eventually relented to an element of mercy. “Ok, ok, just, hmm… give me everything you have except for one of your tens. You can keep that.”

Normally one might have been devastated at being reduced to only standing ten dollars away from bankruptcy, But Ingo seemed grateful enough given the circumstances.

“Thank you; the leniency is much appreciated.” He deposited the money into Zisu’s waiting hand, and she counted over it briefly. Sitting back, he handed the dice over to Bagin, who seemed a little impatient to roll — though, seeing as how he was only seven squares away from passing ‘Go’ , the impatience was understandable.

“Let’s hope I have better luck than you, warden!” He eagerly clasped his hands around the dice and shook them thoroughly. “Come on, seven!”

Bagin more-so threw the plastic pair of pieces as opposed to simply dropping them. The dice tumbled haphazardly across the board, caring not for the stack of chest cards they bumped into, or Akari’s metal piece that they knocked aside.

Laventon blocked their path at the edge of the game board with a quick hand. A five, and a two — the sum of seven faced up towards the hall’s ceiling.

“No way!” Rei seemed almost accusatory as Bagin slid his coin-shaped game piece over to the ‘Go’ space.

“Show me your sleeves!” Having long grown used to Bagin’s exploitative tendencies, Akari felt similarly; she would not put it past the guy to use weighted dice. And his recent streak of extremely fortunate rolls was not helping his case. “That’s the third time you’ve gotten the exact number you’ve needed!”

“No tricks, I promise; I just got lucky!” Bagin tugged at the sleeves of his corps’ red hanten to prove Akari’s accusation wrong. “And two-hundred Pokédollars richer!”

Plucking two yellow slips of paper money from the bank stash, Akari reached across the board to hand them to Bagin, but not without a tiny, well-hidden hint of skepticism. He tucked them away with the rest of his colorful currency, only adding to the comparatively impressive amount he possessed.

“ And , this means that I now have the most savings!” Bagin turned his attention to Cyllene, who was at his right side. “So it’s my turn to wear the crown—!”

“—Ahem!” A stern voice from above killed whatever insistence was about to ensue.

Every head turned towards the top of the floor’s left staircase. With her back to it, Akari glanced over her shoulder to find herself looking up at someone she thought had long since left the Galaxy Hall and gone home on account of the rain.

A muffled rumble of thunder decided to roll somewhere above them at that moment. It might have been seen as an amusing announcement of his arrival, if it didn’t assume his appearance to be one of admonishment.

Akari bristled into surprised silence, but Zisu had no such qualms, flashing a welcoming smile up at him. “Commander Kamado! Did you hear how much fun we were having, and finally decide to come down and join us?”

“Oh, I did hear,” Kamado’s gaze shifted to the Security Corps’ captain, but then moved to scrutinize the large game board on the floor. “I can hear like I’m down here playing this game myself! I came down only to request you all be conscious of your volume; I am trying to finish up a few more work orders and reports.”

“You’re still working on all that paperwork?” Akari lamented, slumping back to better look at him. “You’ve been up there for hours. Have you taken any breaks yet?”

“Coming down here and requesting less shouting is my break.” Kamado descended the rest of the way down the stairs, looking back over the board again as he stepped closer. Apparent curiosity slowed his inspection the second time around in order to take in the finer details.

His gaze wandered over the tiny metal figures and colored building pieces scattered across the red carpeting. Then to the cups of tea and plates of snack cakes around the board, and the colorful paper money, either haphazardly clumped or neatly stacked in piles by peoples’ sides. 

While his expression wasn’t one of disappointment, it wasn’t quite one of approval either. “Perhaps I should ask you all to keep the floor a little neater as well?”

“Can do, if you take a real break and join us!” Akari reached over towards Cyndaquil, Oshawott, and Rowlet to pluck an additional metal piece up for him, as at some point the Pokémon had begun playing with the extra ones. “We could squeeze you in real quick—”

“That won’t be necessary.” 

“Come on, ” Akari drew out the last word, giving him a look as she held the metal figure up to him. “It’s supposed to be a day off!”

“You have been working up there for a while, Commander.” Sitting between Bagin and Zisu, Cyllene had been partially obscured by the Security Corps’ captain until she leaned forward to speak up. “I would suggest taking a break if you haven’t yet. The work will still be up there when you return. And I am open to assist you tomorrow with what is left, if you would like.”

“Cyllene,” Kamado turned his head to her. He would have otherwise been even more surprised to discover her playing than Laventon, but his subdued tone suggested confusion more than anything. “What is that on your head?”

“It’s a paper crown.” She obliged to his abrupt change of topic, a hand moving up to ensure the shiny red papercraft was not leaning crooked. “Akari’s rules. The player with the largest sum of money wears the crown.”

“...Which is actually mine now,” Bagin insisted so quietly, that it barely reached above a whisper. He at least had enough decency not to extend an expectant hand out for it at that moment.

“But!” Akari interrupted, “If you join now, you’ll get to wear it! Come on, join us!”

“Join us! Join us! Join us!” The emboldening chanting grew more confident as more voices rose up, with Kamado only shaking his head as even the Pokémon began to squeal, squawk, and bark, the commotion riling them up. The surrounding ambience of the rainfall disappeared entirely under their chanting.

Kamado inwardly groaned. Even if he did go back up to his office now, there was no way he’d be able to concentrate on that pile of papers sitting on his desk; he’d entirely lost the streak he had going. And now that he’d fallen out of it, the growing ache in his hands might make it difficult to return to the repetitive motions of signing his name for who-know-how-many more times...

“Alright,” Kamado huffed, stroking his chin as he surveyed the board one last time. Perhaps he should tentatively feel out a compromise. “I will join in for one game. But only one game. How long does a round usually last? Around ten, twenty minutes?” “Well, we’ve been playing the same round since this morning,” Rei mused around a mouthful of snack cake. “So like, four hours? Maybe? But Akari said that’s normal for this game!”

“...I see.” Of course Akari would grab up a game that took a decade to play. “How about this; you all move this to one of the rooms downstairs, keep this mess contained to a table, and control your shouting; once I finish up this last workform I’m in the middle of, then… maybe I’ll come down and join you all.”

“Yes!” The group collectively cheered. Kamado turned to head back up the stairs as excited shouting mixed together with the rustling of paper bills and tumbling game pieces, all in a big effort to collect the game and move it down to the sub-level. 

Kamado shook his head as he reentered his office, but there was a certain smile hidden under his mustache. Such an enthusiastic bunch. He dearly appreciated the Galaxy Team and what it had developed into over these past two years, even if it was hard to keep up with sometimes.

[darlingdaisyfarm]

My Love Mine All Mine | Stanley Pines

★ Caryn Pines gives her son the only thing that truly belongs to him. love that will live in the people he loved and in the people they will love after him.

for Stanley Pines, whose soul was too big for his own body, so he gave the extra away. who had nothing and so he gave everything

i highly recommend listening to this song when reading <3 its by Mitski

before anything else, before words, before thought, there is love. and love is red, love is screaming, love is Stanley Pines coming into this world.

and his world begins with a cry. Stanley is loud as he will ever be, his tiny body shaking with a ferocity.

she holds both of her sons to her chest, skin to skin, two tiny bodies curling into her warmth, and she knows. these are mine.

and she loves them both like the ocean loves the shore.

Caryn feels two new hearts against her. she presses Stan close, feeling the tremble of his breath. he is too small to know what he needs, but she does.

Caryn knows that everything she does will leave a mark. she won’t leave them money, she won’t leave them houses, but she will leave love. a love so vast, so infinite, it will fill spaces long after she is gone, after the years pass.

“you are mine. all mine, my love. i will teach you how to love, because that’s the only thing that will ever belong to you.”

Ford is quiet in her other arm, calmer, softer, less of a storm, more a ripple in the ocean. but his twin is a storm and he will carry that storm with him always. it will be his curse and his blessing and Caryn will teach him how to contain it. she hopes it plants something deep inside him that will take root, that will never leave him, even when she does.

“Stanley,” she breathes, pressing a kiss to the forehead of the loud one. she shifts, pressing another kiss to the quiet one. “Stanford.”

Stanley never stops crying unless Caryn holds him. and Ford never cries at all. unless Stanley is taken away, so Caryn carries them both at once because her arms are strong and her heart is stronger. Ford rests in the crook of her arm, Stanley clings to her like a little stubborn monkey.

she sings to them before they understand words, sings because love is the only language they will ever need.

“moon, tell me if i could, send up my heart to you? so when i die, which i must do, could it shine down here with you?”

Stanley kicks his feet in time with the melody. Ford watches her mouth move, curious.

Caryn takes Stanley to the ocean, cradles him against her chest as the tide curls around her ankles. the waves roar, and he giggles, his small hands grasping at the sea spray.

“see, sweetheart?” she smiles, bouncing him gently. “this is yours. the whole ocean.“

Stanley realises, this is home. this is the ocean. and he will love it, because Caryn loves it and Caryn is his, so it belongs to him too.

Stan buries his face in her neck, grinning against her skin. Ford is on the shore, his tiny fingers curling into the sand, fascinated by the way it shifts beneath him.

her boys. her whole world.

it’s strange, the way children grow. they exist between moments, one minute they are so tiny, and the next, they are already eight.

and Stanley, with all his fire, all his want to hold the world in his hands, is too much. too much for this small house, too much for his small body. so he reaches.

when it rains, Stanley runs outside, arms wide open like he could hold the whole sky, mouth open to catch the drops. Caryn doesn’t mind, she never minds. she takes his hand and twirls him in circles until they are both dizzy, rain-soaked, laughing.

Ford stands under the porch, watching, waiting. he is quieter still, more thoughtful. he is different. he watches moths with wide eyes, reaches for mushrooms with eager hands

Ford loves the quiet things, the soft things, the dark, the mysterious. Stanley doesn’t understand it. how could he understand the silence when he was born from a cry?

Stanley finds the moths disgusting, he sticks out his tongue when it flutters too close. but Caryn only laughs, cupping one in her gentle hands, watching the delicate way it moves. “he sees the world different than you,” she tells Stanley. “and that’s beautiful.”

Stan pouts. but later, she catches him watching Ford watching the moths. he wants to understand.

that is the thing about love, she thinks. you don’t have to understand someone to love them. and she is proud of them both. they balance each other

but Stanley does understand love, because his mom has given it to him in every moment, in every touch. she is raising him on it, feeding it to him like milk.

but he doesn’t know yet that one day, when he is older and the world becomes too rough for him, love will be the only thing he has left. it will be the thing that pulls him through.

Stanley is joy. Ford is quiet. and Caryn is the bridge, the hands that hold both at once. she knows that love is different for each of them. she loves them in the way they need to be loved.

one more thing about love: it does not stop the world from moving forward and it's not enough to keep Stan and Ford from growing up.

the house is too quiet without Stanley’s voice filling the halls. he leaves with his mother’s love carved into him, so when she'll be gone, it'll feel like he is bleeding.

but when Caryn dies, she lives in him. Stanley wonders if he could send his heart up to her. he wonders if she knew if he still carried her love in his hands because no one else in the world could ever take it from him.

and that love, the one she taught him, it moves through him like a pulse, and Stanley doesn’t know how to let it go. but he does not need to. it will never leave him, even when everything else does

years pass, and his mother's love is still in him.

it’s many years later when he meets a boy without a father. a kid with a too-big heart. the same hunger for a love that doesn’t ask for anything. so Stan does what he was taught, he holds Soos close, he becomes what Caryn was for him.

Stanley does not think about it when he ruffles his hair, when he buys him lunch without being asked, when he shows him how to fix things.

he pours that love into the boy, as best he can, knowing full well it isn’t enough. but love, as his mother said, it is all he has to give. it is the thing that will stay, even after he is gone.

years pass, and when Mason and Mabel are born, Stanley stands at the edge of the hospital room, hands shaking.

Mabel is first, she arrives screaming, loud, red. Stanley strokes her tiny cheek with his thumb, only now realising how he looked when he came into this world. so this was me, he thinks. Caryn always mentioned it. now he knows. because now Mabel exists and she is warmth, she is loud, she is life, she is the echo of his own baby wail. too much love in too small a body.

Stan does not expect to cry, but he does.

because when Mason is placed in his arms, there is a birthmark on his forehead. a constellation written into his skin. Stan doesn't know if he's crying or laughing because the universe must be playing a joke on him.

six fingers, the big dipper, twins.

it’s too much like Ford, too much like the thing he lost

Stan's heart is too full, too raw, too open. and when he holds both kids, so small, so pure, he understands. he understands what it means to love something so much that it hurts. because this is what he does and he will do it for as long as he can: he loves. he loves the children, he loves the world in pieces, he loves the moment he’s in, because that is all he can do.

Stanley swallows hard and pulls Mason close, because he misses hugging his brother. he presses his forehead against the baby's and laughs. “kid, you got some big shoes to fill.”

Mabel gurgles in his other arm, as if reminding him she’s here too. Stan grins. "don't worry, sweetheart. i won't forget you."

he never does. because they are his now.

when they’re little, Stan carries them both at once, just like his mother did. he rocks them in his arms, sings to them like his mother sang to him and Ford.

so when i die, which i must do, could you shine it down here for her?

the years pass, and Stanley is there.

he carries Mabel on his shoulders, spins her in the rain, lets her paint his nails and knuckles with glittery nail polish.

Mabel reminds him of himself. she is messy, untamed, wild with love. Mason reminds him of someone he cannot say out loud, but that is okay.

Mason. . . Mason with his notebooks and his questions and his hunger for the strange. Stanley listens. always. because he remembers Ford’s voice, too. remembers what it was like to have so much inside you and no one to tell it to.

nothing in the world belongs to him. not really. not his home, not his name, not even his own history.

except his love.

Stan looks in the mirror and sees his mother’s hands, sees the way she used to hold his face, thumb brushing his cheek.

“i did good, ma,” he says, not expecting an answer. the moon is outside, glowing with a light it doesn’t own.

and Stanley knows. love is the only thing that never left him. his, all his. it lives in the ocean. in the rain. in the wings of a moth. in the laughter of a child.

it lives in the hands of a boy who learned how to fix things. in the laughter of a girl who runs into storms. in the eyes of a boy who sees magic in what others ignore.

when he dies, his love will not.

it will live in Soos’ hands, when he holds his own child for the first time

it will live in Mabel’s loud laugh, when she spins her brother’s kids in the rain

it will live in Mason's voice, telling stories to people who will listen

love is the only thing that does not end.

his love, his, all his.

[lady-belz]

Dirty Thoughts: A Dirty Shorts Fic

Kim Namjoon x Female Reader

Rating: 18+ (minors DNI)

Prompt: “How am I supposed to concentrate when I am having the most unholy scenarios about you and me in my head?”

Author Note: Poll results from last week said Jungkook would be the next one in the series. Boy were you wrong! LOL!

Story notes: You and Namjoon have been married for 6 years, and to keep your relationship spicy, you like to send him naughty pics via text message that end up distracting him from working and causing him no end of embarrassment to his bandmates.

When Yoongi entered 'Rkive', it was to see his long-time friend and bandmate staring off into space as he sat at his control board.

“Oh not again!” he chuckled to himself as he closed the door. “Nam!” he called out, trying not to startle the man.

Namjoon blinked twice before looking up at his friend. He cleared his throat, his cheeks tinting pink and Yoongi knew what, or rather who, had been on his friend's mind. “Oh! Hey! How long have you been there?”

“Long enough to see you thinking about your wife again. What did she send this time?” Yoongi wondered, sitting in one of the empty chairs next to him.

Yoongi (all of the boys really) absolutely adored the woman that had captured his leader and best friend's heart. It was an accidental meeting (Namjoon had been out riding his bike, got distracted by a duck in a pond and nearly ran the poor woman over. If she hadn't jumped out of the way, falling into the pond, she would have been hit with his bike. He was completely embarrassed as he helped her out of the pond, apologizing over and over again as she wrung out her soaked clothing. She waved him off, giggling and the moment their eyes met, it was love at first sight) that turned into something long-term and on a sunny day, 3 years later, in front of the same pond they'd met at, they got married. Married now for nearly 6 years, she still found ways to embarrass her husband, and one of her favorites was sending her husband selfies. Not tame ones either – ones that made him question everything about life and caused him no amounts of embarrassment if he was out in public with his friends and popped a boner after looking at the pics.

If anything, his question made Namjoon's cheeks even redder and he couldn't help the laugh that bubbled up from his throat. “That good, huh?”

“You don't understand, man! That woman can make angels want to commit sins!” Namjoon burst out, making Yoongi laugh loudly.

“And you married her.” Yoongi reminded him.

“Well I couldn't let anyone else get their grubby hands on her! I saw her first!”

Yoongi wondered if he had channeled Jimin for a minute, he was laughing so hard he nearly fell out of the chair. Namjoon sounded like a pouty 5 year old.

“So why are you here, and not at home asserting dominance over your fiefdom?” Yoongi smirked. Namjoon gave him a dirty look.

“Did you just really say 'fiefdom'? Dude.” Namjoon shook his head. “Besides, we have work to do.”

“Work that can wait until later.” Yoongi assured him. “Go home. Be with your wife. You know you want to.”

“...I kind of do.” Namjoon looked down, cheeks and ears red.

“So why are you still here?”

“The music guides-”

“I can call Jungkook.”

“And the ad-libs need-”

“Jimin's free.”

“But the ra-”

“Hobi's down the hall in his studio.”

“But-”

“Jin and Tae are downstairs in the practice room. Go home, Joonie. We got this covered.” Yoongi chuckled, patting his friend on the leg.

“You s-”

“Kim Nam-joon! Go home!” Yoongi laughed, grabbing his friend by the arm and dragging him out of the studio, Namjoon grabbing his bag and jacket before they could be left behind.

“Fine!” Namjoon sighed as he slipped on his jacket, grabbing his bike from beside the door to the studio. “Don't call me unless it's an emergency!” he yelled as he headed for the elevators.

“We won't!” Yoongi yelled back with a chuckle.

The elevator doors closed as Hobi poked his head out of 'Hope World'. “The wife?”

“Yep.” Yoongi chuckled, moving to the door of 'Genius Lab'. Hobi just shook his head with a laugh, going back inside his own studio.

Namjoon entered his apartment to the smells of delicious food. “Y/n, I'm home!” he called out.

“You're home early! I'm in the kitchen!” you returned as he hung up his coat and bag. He followed the smells to the kitchen and found you at the stove, dishing out a soup into some bowls. You looked up and smiled at him. “Why are you home so early? I thought you were going to be a few hours?”

“Yoongi kicked me out.” he shrugged, moving to stand behind you.

“Why would he do that?” you frowned, looking at him over your shoulder.

“Because he caught me staring off into space again.” Namjoon replied, pressing against your back. You hid a smirk, now knowing the reason why he was home early.

“You were thinking about that photo I sent this morning.” you told him, making it a statement and not a question.

“What do you think?” he replied, leaning down to press a kiss to the exposed skin of your neck. You hummed in thought as you moved out of his embrace to take the empty pot to the sink. You could have sworn you heard him growl.

“I think you need to get your head out of the clouds.” you chuckled as you washed the pot, setting it in the strainer to dry. You felt his body heat at your back again, this time his hands resting on your hips as he pressed his nose into your hair.

“How am I supposed to concentrate when I am having the most unholy scenarios about you and me in my head?” he whisper-growled against your ear, making goosebumps break out along your arms. “Especially when you keep sending me those pictures!”

“Well... just keeping you interested.” you smirked, giving him a side eye. You found yourself spun around and pinned to the counter at your back, his lips inches from your own making your pulse rate spike.

“I'm always interested, love.” he stated, his tone dropping an octave and making desire slowly curl in your stomach.

“Yeah?” you whispered, voice shaky and he smirked hearing it.

“The things I want to do to you right now on this counter...”

You couldn't help it – you moaned, the sound seeming to come from the back of your throat. It was rare when Namjoon became so dominant and it turned you on completely.

“Namj-” you started to say but he cut you off, his lips sliding over yours in a sensual kiss that made your toes curl and your hair stand on end. You reached out to touch his chest but he grabbed your wrists and pinned them behind your back with his larger hand. You gasped in surprise and desire.

“No touching!” he growled.

“Yes, sir!” you agreed almost immediately.

Using his free hand, he slowly unbuttoned the shirt you had put on that morning, realizing it was one of his. He loved it when you wore his clothes and if he wasn't already hard before, he definitely was now. You wore nothing beneath it, reminding him of the photo you had sent him that morning; you wearing this exact shirt while laying in bed, the fabric barely covering you.

“You drive me crazy, do you know?” he whispered, leaning in to press a warm kiss to your sternum.

“A girl has to have goals in life, Joonie.” you replied, shivering against his touch.

“And yours is to make me insane with lust?” he glanced up at you, arching an eyebrow and hollowing his cheeks, a look that never failed to make you wet.

“Yes.” you answered honestly, staring him directly in the eye. He just gave you that look again. You waited to see what his next move would be and he surprised you by wrapping his hands around your waist and hoisting you up onto the counter. You gasped in surprise and desire. “Joon!”

He smirked at you, getting to his knees and pulling your legs over his shoulders. Before you could complain, his face was between your legs, his tongue dancing along your wet folds and you cried out in shock. “Fuck!” you shouted, your head falling back between your shoulders as he ate you like a man starved.

He groaned at your taste, something he could never get tired of and hearing your moans above him meant he knew he was doing it right. He pushed in deeper, the moan you released the filthiest moan he'd ever heard come from your lips and he smirked internally.

Your fingers slid into his hair, grabbing tightly and pulling hard, causing his tongue to move faster. He released a hand from your thigh, his thumb pressing against your clit and rubbing hard. You started to swear most colorfully, making him grin. He loved reducing you to a babbling wreck whenever he had the chance.

Your thighs started to shake, the coil of desire in your stomach tightening by the second. You were so close.

He felt the tremors in your legs and used the other hand to slip two fingers inside of you, replacing his tongue, moving the wet muscle to your clit and making circular motions. “Oh my god! J-Joonie!” you nearly screamed, falling backwards on top of the counter. The wet sounds his fingers made sliding in and out of you were loud, the acoustics of the kitchen making it echo.

The coil snapped and your back arched as your orgasm blasted through you. You soaked his face, the counter, the floor and the front of his shirt as your thighs snapped closed around his head. He ignored it, continuing to wring every bit of pleasure out of you he could get.

Exhausted and spent, your legs finally relaxed, dropping heavily to his shoulders as you struggled to catch your breath.

He removed your legs from his shoulders, leaving you laying on the counter as he gained his feet, quickly stripping out of his clothes. Once naked, he grabbed your thighs, pulling you to the edge of the counter before sliding his hard cock inside of you in one thrust. You gasped loudly in pleasure as his large hands gripped your hips and he started thrusting hard.

“Fuck, you feel amazing!” he groaned as you wrapped your legs around his back, keeping him close.

“J-Joon!” you babbled out, so wrecked by your husband you were punch drunk, eyes rolling behind tightly closed lids. He did not let up, didn't pause for a break, chasing his pleasure as well as giving you more of your own.

“So close.” he mumbled some time later. You pried your eyes open to watch him fall apart over you, his face absolutely beautiful as the pleasure overwhelmed him. You could feel his hot seed fill you, triggering your own orgasm, your walls fluttering around him as you moaned his name.

Breathless and sated, he collapsed, his head falling against your stomach.

You stayed like that for a time, waiting for your breathing to regulate and your bodies to cool.

“Guessing you really liked this morning's photo?” you giggled later. He raised his head, giving you a salacious grin.

“Don't tell Yoongi, but I jerked off to it after you sent it.” he chuckled, making you laugh and flutter your walls around him. He thrust back into you, making you both groan. You fell back on the counter, staring at the ceiling.

“I'm never going to be able to cook in here again without thinking about today.” you giggled, making him laugh outright.

“Your fault for being so delicious and putting thoughts in my head.” he replied, slipping his arms around your back to pull you upright and into his embrace. You leaned down to kiss him deeply as he pulled you off the counter, still linked together. He took you to your bedroom where you continued your activities well into the evening.

-End-

[moosesarecute]

Chapter 13: The Shadow to my Flame

Series Masterlist

Masterlist

Azriel was having a hard time.

He had, together with Rhys and Cass, explained to Mor and Amren that they had let Ashe not only into the Night Court, but also into Velaris.

When they had started explaining that Ashe was a Vanserra, Mor had become…distant. It didn’t take long for her to get into self-defence mode. He didn’t blame her for that, of course, but he wished they had gone about explaining it in a kinder way.

Amren agreed and had given him and his brothers many disappointed looks afterwards.

Azriel was also doing bad, because he hadn’t seen Ashe in over a week.

Samli and Thord had come up with the idea that Ashe would live with them, to try to not overwhelm her with all the changes. Azriel agreed that it was a good idea, but he hated not being able to help her.

So, he had been sneaking into her room after Thord and Samli had gone into bed to try to talk with her. She had grown quieter for each time he visited, and he got a worse and worse feeling of worry for each time he left.

But for the last week, Ashe hadn’t been in her room when he visited. Azriel took that as a sign she needed space, but he still let his shadows follow her.

They gave him updates about how she every night, snuck off and burned and burned and burned. She never did any harm, unless you count the trees she burned down, but she was growing more and more exhausted for each night.

Azriel had to admit that he was worried about her. Of course he was, she was his mate, he was supposed to worry. But he forced himself to stay away.

That was until his hands started hurting more than usual and his shadows informed him that she had burned her hands badly. They whispered about how she lost control for just a little and how her hands now were full of blisters.

His mind was brought right back to his younger self. He barely managed to pull himself out of his head before he got a panic attack.

Azriel used his worry to first pick up some bandages and cooling cream before he shadow-walked to where the shadows told him his Ashe was.

She was seated leaning against a tree and breathing heavily when he arrived. Her eyes widened just a little when she saw him and then she abruptly stood up. She was shaking and it was visible that she had been crying.

He slowly made his way towards her.

“I brought-”

“Don’t come closer,” she said. He had never heard her voice sounding more panicked. He stopped at her words. “You need to leave.”

Her shaking became worse and Azriel saw how she tightened her hands to try to ease the pain.

“I’m just here to help, Flame,” he answered and took another step towards her. Ashe reacted by taking a step away from him. “I have some cooling cream for your hands.”

She shook her head once more. Tears again begun to flow.

“I’ll hurt you. You have to leave,” her voice sounded even more panicked and urgent.

Hurt him? She could never hurt him.

He furrowed his brows at her words.

“You could never hurt me Ashe. Please, I just want to help you. See!” He held up the cooling cream and bandages. “I know you hurt your hands. These will help you.”

He knew by that terrified look on her face that he wouldn’t get any closer to her that night. He moved slowly as he put the cream and bandages on the ground.

“I’m here for you if you need me Ashe,” he said and he surprised himself when he heard the shakiness in his voice. Was he going to cry? He held the tears in, but he could see how Ashe definitely understood that he was getting emotional. “It will be better eventually.”

He stood straight and was about to move away, when Ashe took a small step towards him. She stopped herself after just one step. She looked terrified about what she had just done, but Azriel got hope.

He looked hopeful at her, waiting for her to make another move.

“I can help you, Ashe,” he said again and slowly lifted his foot to take a step towards her.

“No,” she almost yelled at him. “You can’t help. No one can help. Please, leave. You must leave.”

“Ashe, please-”

“LEAVE!”

One moment the forest was shining in the light from the moon, the next it was lit up by the fire that accidently left Ashe’s hands.

It was a thin, soft flame. It didn’t hurt as it hit Azriel’s hand. He got surprised by it, but it didn’t hurt. It almost felt comforting. It felt like his own shadows, but a little warmer. It wasn’t burning hot like the fire from wood. It was alive and felt safe.

However, Ashe didn’t realize he felt it that way. She looked like she had seen a ghost. That was until she got a little green tint in her cheeks.

She winnowed away before she threw up.

Azriel knew he had fucked up.

He had been in his room at the House of Wind for an hour. His shadows were covering him and the entire room. He wouldn’t be surprised if he learned that they were seeping out into the corridor.

What in the cauldron was he going to do?

He could feel all of Ashe’s terror and guilt. It overwhelmed the mother out of him. He was bawling his eyes out. He couldn’t remember last time he cried that much.

He needed to a plan to help Ashe. Firstly, he needed a plan to make Ashe tell him what she was struggling with. He had spent over an hour trying to come up with something, but the only thing he got was Rhys forcing it out of her brain, which didn’t seem like a good idea for her to trust him, or having his shadows follow her for every second of every day.

But they already did, and he still didn’t know what to do.

A soft knock on his door made his shadows stop covering him. They went to the opposite side of the room and swirled in a big black blob.

“Can I speak to you?”

It was Mor.

He got up from his bed and opened the door for her to come through. Mor’s eyes widened when she saw Azriel’s blood red eyes. He tried to rub the worst out, but it didn’t help much.

They sat down on his bed and Mor begun speaking.

“Rhys explained Ashe’s life. How she had no clue she was a Vanserra. I overreacted and I hurt you by not letting you explain, I’m sorry.”

Two hours ago, Azriel would have appreciated the apology, but right now it felt so insignificant. He had such bigger problems to fix.

He muttered a small thank you and expected Mor to leave. But she didn’t.

“I’m not going to leave you when it is so visible that you have been crying your eyes out. What’s going on?”

He knew she wasn’t going to leave until he told her, so he just started speaking. He always found it hard to explain things, so it took some time, but she eventually understood.

“So she burned you?”

“Yes, but no. It didn’t hurt. It didn’t leave a mark. It was almost soft.”

“But you flinched because you got surprised, and she thinks she hurt you? And then she left before you could explain?”

He only nodded.

“You care a lot about this female, don’t you?” Mor spoke extremely softly.

“She’s my mate.”

Mor looked at him both surprised and happy. None of them had mates. They didn’t even know many mates that actually liked each other, other than Miryam and Drakon.

Azriel felt honoured to have a mate, but at the same time he had never felt so lost in his entire life. He wanted someone to tell him what to do, but no one knew. No one had experienced what he was going through.

“You could explain it to her, you know. Explain it, not with words, but show her that she didn’t hurt you. Her fire is different because you obviously care for her, so show her the difference between her fire and other fire.”

It was the best idea Azriel could hear, so he started working.

Ashe was poisoned by her own mind.

She was a danger to the people around her. Or at least that is what she told herself. For each day, she noticed more and more details that gave away that she was his daughter. And for each detail, she got even more need to shut down her powers.

He flinched.

Ashe saw it every time she closed her eyes. And every time she saw it, she got more motivated to lose her powers.

If she didn’t, she would become him.

That’s how she ended up wandering through the sketchier parts of Velaris. That’s how she met with the drug dealer. And last, that’s how she got hold of the faebane.

Ashe knew it was stupid, she knew it was dangerous and potentially lethal, but if she didn’t do it, she would become lethal.

She started small. Only taking a pinch of the powder and adding it to her water. It tasted earthy and dry, but she got it down. However, she could still use her powers, so a few hours later, she took some more. Relief washed over her together with the nausea when she no longer could use her fire.

Good.

No fire = no danger to others

But then, after a few hours, she could again light her candle. So, she drank some more.

She felt like a thick cloud had laid over her. It held her mind tightly and it was highly uncomfortable. All her limbs felt heavy to move. Even lifting her eyebrows was a struggle. She began to cold sweat and uncontrollably shake, but it meant that she was safer for anybody else.

She looked down at her burned hands. She hadn’t let them heal completely before she started with the faebane. They would leave scars, but she deserved it. Azriel had similar scars, and she had hurt him, so she would experience the same amount of pain.

Samli and Thord were as loving as usual. They gave her food and hugs when she needed it. They asked why she was smelling so earthy but accepted her answer when she told them she had been spending a lot of time outside.

They were visibly worried but listed to her when she said she needed some space.

But she didn’t want space. She wanted to be held and comforted. She wanted someone to explain why the hell her life had taken such a turn and help her to see herself as herself and not him. She wanted to be loved and taken care off, but she was too much of a danger, so she couldn’t let anyone close enough.

She had proven that she wasn’t safe to be around. He had hurt Azriel. She had hurt the person she cared the most about. If she wasn’t safe to Azriel, she wouldn’t be safe to anyone else either.

Azriel had felt the bond growing quieter and quieter. When it got silent for the first time, he was sure Ashe was dead. He had completely lost it. He sent all his shadows to her and was almost on his way when the shadows told him that she was okay and safe.

Azriel was on edge for the rest of the day. He realized, after doing some studying about mating bonds, that he probably just closed her side without realizing it.

But then she didn’t open it. Not for days. Azriel had to admit he was worried. It did help a little when his brothers teased him for being to paranoid, but at the same time he just needed her to tell him that she was okay.

His brothers had been awful. They were only teasing him. Saying that he was whipped or wrapped around her finger. They weren’t wrong. Azriel wished his brothers were lucky enough to have mates, if only just so Azriel could tease them back.

It had been three days after the fire incident when Azriel was finally ready to explain. He had been practicing for three days, but he also wished for Ashe to have some time. He didn’t want to push her. If she told him to leave, he would.

Samli opened the door when he knocked.

“Please, be gentle with her,” she said. “I think she’s doing a lot worse than what she’s letting on.”

He nodded and promised to be gentle. He didn’t think he could ever be something else with her.

He knocked on her bedroom door and she opened after a while.

She had huge undereye circles and she looked exhausted. It felt like someone had stabbed Azriel. He just wanted her to be alright. Tears pressed on his eyes.

Ashe moved and let him into her room.

Azriel remembered laughing when he first saw her huge bed made for Illyrian wings. He had gotten hopeful that maybe one day, he would sleep in it with her. Now, it only felt like it was haunting him.

It looked like it only had been slept in a few times.

“I’m sorry,” Ashe spoke. Cauldron, her voice sounded weak. Azriel turned to look at her and saw that she was even paler than usual. What was going on? “I didn’t mean to hurt you. I-”

“You didn’t,” he started. “You didn’t hurt me. I just got surprised.”

He was about to start the explanation he had been practicing for the last three days, when he smelled it.

He noticed how her sweet smell was sour. How it didn’t give him the comfort it usually did. It only made him anxious.

He stopped and told himself it couldn’t be.

That was until his shadows drew his attention to a small jar that stood on Ashe’s desk.

He moved swiftly towards it and Ashe didn’t even have time to protest before he had opened it and smelled the faebane.

He felt chills going done his body. Had she been poisoning herself?

He looked over to her and she looked even paler than before. Her mouth was open, and she looked like she was trying to explain, but that she couldn’t.

“When did you get this?”

“Three days ago.”

He was going to puke. She had gotten it after she sent fire towards him.

“Was it full?”

“Yes.”

That’s a lot of faebane.

Azriel didn’t even try to hold back his protective instincts.

He dropped the lid back onto the jar and immediately moved back to Ashe. He didn’t let her protest as he embraced her so tightly. He also didn’t bother holding back his tears.

His mate had felt so low, felt so dangerous, that she poisoned herself. For three day. And he hadn’t noticed.

“Never again,” his shadows told him, and he agreed.

“Please, Ashe. I’m not letting you do this anymore. I’m going to help you. You can’t scare me away. I won’t leave you. I don’t care if you tell me to leave, okay? I’m going to stay, and you’ll have to find a way to deal with it. Okay?”

Her shoulders shaking told him that she was crying silently. He soon felt her tears soke his shirt. He only held her tighter.

She drew a breath and said something. But it was so quiet and full of sobs that not even his shadows heard it. He started stroking her hair in a hope it would calm her sobs a little. However, it only made her cry more.

“What did you say?” he whispered into her ear.

“Please, stay.”

Hope filled his heart.

“I’ll stay forever.”

Madja had given her a quite harsh talking to about how stupid she was. And even though Azriel felt the need to protect her from all the harshness of the world, Ashe’s eyes seemed more aware than it had since she got to the Night Court.

Madja had gotten all the poison out, but Ashe would remain weak and sick for a couple of days. She had dressed Ashe’s hands and given her an even bigger supply of cooling cream than earlier.

Azriel had held Ashe’s hand the entire time. He wouldn’t ever want to let go, but if he had wished to do so, he couldn’t. Ashe was holding him so tightly. It was like she was scared he would leave if she let go.

He needed her to know that he wouldn’t leave. Not now, not ever.

Samli and Thord had dinner ready for both of them when they got back from the healers. They apologized that they hadn’t noticed how bad Ashe was doing and then they told them how happy they were no permanent damage had been done.

Ashe only played with her food. She was deep in her thoughts and Azriel hoped she wasn’t spiralling deeper.

After dinner, he carried her up to her room. She had tried to walk, but even walking on the flat floor was too hard for her currently weak body.

Azriel adored having her in his arms, and even though he was overwhelmed and stressed, he couldn’t help but hope that it wouldn’t be the last time he carried her to her bedroom. He only hoped it was because of other reasons.

His shadows helped him lifting the duvet as he laid her down into the bed. She sunk into the mattress and Azriel realized how he loved seeing her relaxed. She was blinking lazily and Azriel had to smile at her.

He tucked her in tightly together with the shadows. It was a high possibility she would experience some fever throughout the night, so he didn’t want her to freeze.

He brushed the hair away from her face and watched how she closed her eyes and then, they stayed closed. He lifted her hand that had been holding his since before they went to the healer, and he kissed it softly.

Azriel then stood up and carefully let go of her hand. He moved quietly to the door when the cutest voice he had ever heard stopped him.

“Where you going?” Ashe asked him. He could hear how tried she was, but some panic still bloomed through her words. When he turned, she had almost sat up in the bed, only leaning down on one of her arms.

“I was going to let you sleep.”

He looked over at her and saw how tears started to fall. He immediately got the intense need to hurt anything that had ever hurt her. He moved over, sat down on the bed and dried some of her tears.

“What’s going on? Are you in pain? Do you need anything?”

She sniffed a little before she spoke.

“You said you would stay.”

Azriel felt relived. She had gotten him to think something was terribly wrong. But he saw how devastated she looked at the thought of being left and realized that to her, him leaving probably was something being terribly wrong.

“I’ll stay, my Flame.”

She nodded seriously and then moved over, picked up the duvet and grabbed his hand once again.

Her seriousness was only displayed as adorable in Azriel’s mind, but he laid down next to her. She then lifted his arm and laid it around her waist before she moved closer and closer to Azriel. He then covered them both with his wing.

Her amber eyes were almost glowing in the night light.

Azriel begun stroking her hair once more and it didn’t take long before she was snoring not so softly.

His mate snored.

Taglist: @tele86 @demon-master-zero @kbear8863 @atluky @mis-lil-red @rcarbo1

Let me know if you want to be added!

Dividers by: @saradika-graphics

[tearsaura]

In the woods, the monster awaits // Eris Vanserra x reader

Based on this comment by @astarionsdurge thank you so much for this prompt! I hope you like it.

picture is from pinterest: tanema3

Word count: 1.2k

The estate was much quieter nowadays. Visiting it served only two purposes: seeing my mother or following up on court business. It always felt cold, which is ironic since our power was quite the opposite.

My father’s office was the furthest away at the highest floor and even that didn’t seem far away enough from us. As I climbed up the stairs and entered his space a few moments later, the familiar smell of his cologne hit me and it made my skin crawl.

“We must check in with y/l/n. The magic on our borders is wearing of. There has been an increase on beasts in the woods and if they get any closer, they’ll feast on the village by noon and on us by the evening.” Beron said without looking up from his papers as I stepped closer to his desk.

Well hello to you too father!

Yes, I am doing alright thank you for asking!

Our army shrinks with every day that passes but you already knew that and you refuse to do anything about it! What will you do when there are none left, even for you?

How are you feeling? Any chance that you step down and free this court from its misery?

My father, the high lord of the autumn court, summoned me at dawn to complain, like he usually did. He did take me by surprise that he decided to do something about it instead of delegating it to someone else. Maybe the thoughts of being a meal for some beasts did worry him.

“Shall I meet up with him today?”

“No, I already scheduled to meet up and I want you to accompany me, I need to have a word with him first but after that it is going to be your problem.” He said, raising from his chair.

With other words, he wanted the people from the village to think that he does care about them. That’s what he usually does: Goes to the poorer villages occasionally, act as if he cares, promises them that he works something out to help them but never actually does it. He wordlessly walked out, his guards trailing after him. I sighed, counted to ten, and went after them.

The horse ride to the boarders went quietly thankfully. I tuned out my fathers talking and took in the lands. The autumn court was beautiful, especially the forest. We reached the said place at the border shortly, and nobody was there. I got off my horse and gave him something to eat before joining my father, who was already seething. It was astonishing, how short his patience ran.

“This is unacceptable. Where is the old man?” Beron complained as he dismounted his horse, walking further into the woods.

Please dear mother, let this man get lost in there and never come back.

“This is a forest, he probably needs some time to find us because it looks all, you know, the same.” I claimed, walking after him whilst keeping my distance.

“I am the high lord of the autumn court! I do not have the time or the nerve to wait on some old Witcher to find his way to the place I ordered him to get to on time. He’s a Witcher don’t they sense people?”

“We don’t. We only sense the magic, or well, the lack of it.” A feminine voice called and as I turned around, I was sure that reality had left me. The unknown woman came towards us, my father taking a few steps back as his guards stepped in front of him.

She nearly made me drop to my knees. There were no words on this world that would do right in describing how beautiful she was. No music could come close to the sound of her voice. Without thinking, I stepped closer to her.

The woman raised up her hands in surrender. “No need to draw weapons. I am not here to harm you, high lord. My father sends me: y/l/n, the old Witcher?” she said, a coy smile graced her red lips. Of course, I personally hadn’t seen her father but her signature light grey, almost white, eyes gave her away as a family member of the witches.

“Why didn’t he come himself? I specifically told him that he should come. One would think that the order of the High lord where to take-” “He went to another weak spot. Sadly, this area isn’t our only problem. It took me a while to find you because the magic is missing in multiple places.”

I swallowed. One leakage was bad, but manageable. Multiple where a bad sign. Something was wrong.

“So, what can we do about it?” I asked, her eyes now fixating on me. They looked just like the sky during autumns stormy afternoons. Very hard to look away from, pulling me deeper into this trance.

“You are?”

“Eris. Eris Vanserra.” She continued to look at me, her head tilting slightly. She had a mole right over her upper lip on the left side.

“My oldest son.” I hadn’t even realised that my father had stepped closer too. “He will take over this matter and you’ll correspond directly to him. Unfortunately, I must go. Court affairs.” He said, before he went to his horse, his guards trailing after him.

She waited for a few moments, watching my father and his guards leaving and as they became a small figure in the distance, her attention turned back to me.

“I feel sorry for lady autumn. It must be tiring to listen to this man for even a second, I fear.”

“You have no idea.” I replied and she gave me another smile. She had dimples.

“So, my father and I are working on resurrecting the old magic that was used. But it is many centuries old and all the tomes we have need to be translated first. We will work with lesser magic until we have it but that would only last days or weeks at most. For the time being I would stay here to make sure that everything is alright.” She said, stemming her hands on her hips as she observed.

She smelled divine. Oranges with a hint of vanilla. He wanted to wrap her scent around him for the rest of his life.

“The Forrest house isn’t far from here. You can stay there.” I blurted, her eyes widening in surprise. “Oh, that is quite all right I thought about bringing a tent-” “A tent? Absolutely not. You are saving your people with your work. The least I can do is make sure that you have an actual roof over your head.” I said, stepping closer to her. She bit her lip, as she looked up to me, the confidence from before replaced with sudden shyness.

“Thank you, Eris.”

Eris. That’s what did it. I suddenly felt the thin golden thread pulling me towards her and my breath hitched.

Mate.

Must protect her, must keep her safe.

I found my mate. I took everything in me not to blurt it right out.

“Of course.” I whispered, before I held out my arm to her hoping that she didn’t notice it trembling.

“I’ll bring you there.”

[darklove9314-blog]

Sorry is the Hardest Word: A Nessian Fanfic

Welcome to day 3 of SJM romance week, prompt: First “I Love you”.

Synopsis: This story contains spoilers for HOFAS: proceed with caution. After the events of HOFAS, Cassian gives Nesta an explanation for his anger.

Nesta shoveled the food that Cassian had made them for dinner on her plate, her appetite near nonexistent as the silence and tension could be felt between her and Cassian. The feel of it damn near sufficienting as he concentrated on his own plate, his jaw still clenched in that anger from the discussion she, Rhys, Feyre and himself had had. Where even he had snapped at her about her reckless discussion. Feyre had been the only one to fight for her and the only one to get Rhys to back off until they were back at The House of Wind.

Ember and Randall exchanged a brief glance with one another, a silent conversation playing out between the two of them as Ember rose from her chair, gathering her and Randall’s empty dishes as Cassian’s eyes flickered up to her in response.

"I think we'll turn in for the night. Thank you for dinner." She said to Cassian as Ember squeezed Nesta's shoulder in reassurance before slipping her hand into Randall's making their way to wash their dishes before retrieving to the guest room Nesta had set up for them earlier.

She watched Ember go, taking a deep breath and gathering her courage as she turned back to Cassian, his focus still on his own plate as she straightened slightly. That was it, she was tired of this silence between them. If he was mad at her, fine, but she refused to let this argument fester between them any longer instead of talking about it.

"Go ahead." She finally said to him making Cassian's head lift in response, his eyes still flared with the fire she had seen in them earlier that day. she refused to back down from it.

"What do you want me to say Nesta? That I'm upset? You know I am, but somehow I doubt you care.”

"What was it about my decision that made you so angry? Even Feyre knew why i did it."

"I'm not Fyere, Nesta."

"Neither am i." Nesta argued, her hand clenching the table, "And yet when i make a decision that Feyre herself would have made, I'm punished and reprimanded for it. Why is that?"

Cassian gave her a leveled look, crossing his arms over his chest as he answered,

"I've been mad at Feyre plenty of times for throwing not just herself, but all of us in danger. You should have seen how angry I was when she decided not to tell any of us that she was High lady and decided to go with Tamlin to the Spring Court."

She briefly remembered that time, had remembered some of his anger, but mostly during that time, she had remembered him doing everything to keep her sane. Even if it meant provoking her anger in the process so she had something else to focus on then her own reality.

"Stop trying to change the subject, you owe me an explanation. I know why Rhys was mad, he's the High lord of these lands, Nyx is barely four months old and I already know he detest me, but I still can't figure out why my mate, the person who's supposed to understand me the most is angrier at me than my own brother in law is."

Cassian stood abruptly as Nesta stood up to meet him, crossing her arms over her chest. there was no way in hell that she would let him avoid this conversation. No matter how unpleasant it made both of them feel. She was tired of whatever the hell was happening between the two.

"You want to know why I'm pissed at you, why I'm furious that you gave it to that-that female." Cassian spewed out stepping closer to her so there was no space between them.

"I'm here waiting for an explanation aren't I?" She pressed.

"You are the most infuriating female I have ever met, you know that?"

She gave a low laugh at that,

"In that way we're evenly matched."

She expected lot of things, for him to yell at her some more or for him to walk away, she did not expect him to pull her in, whined his hands in her hair, and press his lips to hers.

She met his furious kisses, stroke for stroke, taking her own fury at him out in her kiss as they battled for dominance. He pulled away, leaving her breathless but still tilted her face up to meet that fire in his eyes as he breathed out,

"I'm angry, because that female had the audacity to ask my mate for a favor after she had already put your life in danger. I'm angry because the woman I love, put her life and safety at risk to help save others who would not do the same for her. I'm angry because-"

"Did you just say that you love me?" Nesta questioned, his declaration catching her off guard as he breathed pausing in his expiation blinking in confusion.

"Of course I did. You're my mate, why wouldn't I-"

He paused considering, contemplating their time together. the words he had uttered to her in their love making, she knew he loved her, had felt it in his kiss, in the fierceness of how he showed it to her, but she had never heard him utter it out loud, not until this very moment.

"I'm an asshole." He finally admitted, sorrow and regret in his eyes and a hint of shame. "I'm a selfish, cowardice, asshole, and some days I do not deserve you."

She closed the very narrow distance between them, standing on tip toes to press her lips to his, her hands gently caressing his face as he kissed her back with the desire of a thousand universes.

"I love you too." She whispered, losing herself in his strong embrace, her lover, her best friend, her mate.

"I should have said it sooner." He whispered to her in between their urgent kisses.

"The past is the past, Cassian. I'd rather live in the here and the now, for however long the Mother and The universe gives us, I want you by my side."

He grasped her hand, intertwining their fingers as he said,

"I wouldn't want it any other way, Nesta Archeron."

She smiled, capturing his lips once more as she mused,

"We should take this to the bedroom that way you can show me how much you love me."

She felt his smile between their kiss as he lifted her up in his arms, a giggle escaping her as he grinned,

"I thought you'd never ask."

@sjmromanceweek

[shipper4everships]

BuckTommy Fluffebruary: Day 10

~Sleepy cuddles~

Tommy returned to the break room on the second night of his 72-hour shift. This was far from his first shift, and he was used to them, but this one felt especially tough. A few unforeseen circumstances had disrupted both his and Buck’s schedules, and now they hadn’t shared a single day off together for several weeks.

All they managed to get were a few minutes for conversations when one of them was heading to their shift while the other was just returning.

With each passing day, the separation became harder. Tommy missed Evan terribly, and he knew the feeling was mutual, but there was nothing they could do about it. He also knew they would have to keep living on this schedule for a while longer, and that thought weighed heavily on his chest.

Tommy lay down on his bunk by the wall, hoping there wouldn’t be another call for at least a couple of hours so he could get some rest - just a short nap where he wouldn’t have to think about how difficult it was to fall asleep and wake up without feeling the warmth of his loved one beside him.

Buck parked the jeep near Station 217 and climbed out. He moved inside quietly, trying not to disturb anyone or draw attention to himself, when suddenly, he heard a familiar voice.

- Buckley? What are you doing here?!

It was Lucy, appearing out of nowhere and speaking way too loudly for nighttime, in his opinion.

- Shhh, be quiet! I don’t need you waking up the whole team. - Buck hushed her carefully.

- You didn’t answer my question. - Lucy whispered now, though she still looked extremely curious.

- Where is he? - Was all Buck responded with.

Lucy rolled her eyes and nodded toward the couches.

- In the break area. He just went there about 20 minutes ago.

Buck gave her a polite nod of thanks and walked in the indicated direction.

Lucy watched him leave and giggled. There was no way she wasn’t teasing Kinard about this later.

Buck stepped inside the room, and his gaze immediately landed on the bunk by the wall, where Tommy was peacefully sleeping. The man was lying with his back to the entrance, and Buck could hear the steady rhythm of his breathing.

Buck quietly approached the bunk, slipping off his jacket and boots as he went. There was a little space left at the edge of the bed, so Buck carefully lowered himself down, slid under Tommy’s blanket, and gently moved closer, making sure not to wake his boyfriend.

Eventually, he even managed to wrap an arm around Tommy’s waist, pressing his chest against man’s back. Holding Tommy close, Buck closed his eyes and matched his breathing to his partner’s.

For a while, Tommy remained still, but when he tried to turn over and felt an arm on his side and the warmth of another body behind him, he woke up with a start.

- What- ?!

- Baby, it’s me, don’t worry. - Buck answered in a voice still hoarse from sleep.

- Evan? But… what are you doing here? - Tommy whispered in a groggy voice, his breath not cooperating after sleeping.

- Just finished my shift and decided to visit you. - Buck murmured into Tommy’s hair, sending light shivers across his skin. - I missed you too much.

Tommy’s heart skipped a beat. He felt the same way.

- But Cap…

- Bobby talked to your Captain - consider my visit approved. - Buck cut him off. - We’re fine as long as I don’t distract you from a call.

Tommy hadn’t even realized he let out a happy sigh. He couldn’t believe they finally had some time together.

In the darkness, Tommy found Buck’s hand and pressed it to his heart, pulling Evan even closer. Buck was more than happy to oblige.

They fell asleep peacefully, holding onto each other and listening to each other’s breathing.

Tommy managed to steal a few precious hours wrapped up in Buck’s arms before the next call came.

He couldn’t have felt better. @bucktommyfluffebruary ❤️️

[angelasscribbles]

Best of My Love: A Victim of Love One-Shot

Series: Victim of Love

Fandom: The Royal Romance

Pairings: Drake x Riley. Drake x Hana mentioned.

Word Count: 958

Rating: G, fluff

Warnings for this chapter: none

Written for the @choicesficwriterscreations Valentine's event.

My other stuff: Master List.

The bell jingled as he strode through the door. The sweet floral scent of begonias and petunias washed over him as he made his way to the counter.

The young woman behind the counter smiled politely. “Hello, sir. Are you here to order flowers for Valentine’s Day?”

He grinned broadly. “Yes! I was looking for something with roses and lavender.”

The bell jingled again and a voice from his past spoke. “Well, as I live and breathe if it isn’t Drake Walker!”

“Fuck!” He swore softly under his breath. Turning around, he pasted a polite smile on his face. “Shayla. How have you been?”

“I’ve been good, sugar!” She invaded his personal space and grabbed him in a tight hug. “How about you?”

Drake leaned forward so that only his upper body was engaged in the hug, patting her on the back lightly. He quickly disengaged and stepped back. “Never better. Got married last year.” He held up his left hand to show off the gold band glinting on his ring finger.

“Anyone I know?”

He shook his head. “Met her in Cordonia.”

“Cordonia?” She said it like it was something disgusting.

“Yes.”

“Is that why we haven’t seen you around the rodeo circuit lately? The little wifey made you quit?” The curvaceous brunette smirked. “Those city girls just don’t get it.”

“She didn’t make me quit. I don’t know if you know this or not, but I’m a grown ass man capable of making my own choices and decisions.”

“And you chose to stop bull riding?”

“Yes. Why do you say it like it’s hard to believe or something?”

“Because I know you, Drake. You’re stupidly good at it. You’re a local legend. Why would you give that up?”

“Because I no longer want to risk my life.”

She scoffed with a shake of her head. “But you were so good!”

“I was also careless, reckless, and foolhardy.”

“I liked that about you.”

“So, you liked the part of me that had a death wish. Noted.”

She rolled her eyes. “Don’t be so dramatic. You loved it.”

“No. I loved the rush it gave me. But I love my family more. Riley gave me something to live for, and now I’m going to be a father. I won’t do anything to jeopardize my ability to be here for them.”

Her eyes widened. “You’re having a baby?”

“Yes.” He stood noticeably taller when he said it, pride coloring the simple utterance.

She shook her head with a frown as she moved around the counter and tied on an apron. “Never thought I’d see the day Drake Walker gave up women and bulls.”

“That was my past. Riley and the baby are my future.”

“All right, all right, don’t get your knickers in a bunch.” Turning back toward him, she studied his face for a moment, and then her expression softened. “Well, I’ll be damned. You’re really in love!”

His brow furrowed in annoyance. “Why do you seem so shocked by that?”

She burst out laughing. “Because I didn’t think you were capable of it.”

“Oh.” He shifted awkwardly, unsure how to respond to that.

“Oh, don’t make it weird! You’ve changed, Drake. Grown. That’s a good thing.”

He let out a relieved breath. “So, stop giving me a hard time about it.”

“I wasn’t.” She peered at him a moment longer with squinted eyes. “Did you think I was jealous?”

He went beet red as he mumbled, “Maybe.”

“Oh, Christ!” She laughed as she held her hand up in the air. “You’re not the only one that moved on.”

He examined the midsized diamond sparkling on her ring finger as his face broke out in a smile. “Congratulations! And sorry if I was being a conceited jerk. Anyone I know?”

“Shane Mahony,” she told him with a self satisfied grin.

“Skeeter?”

“The one and only.”

“He’s a good guy. I’m happy for you both.”

“Thanks. We should get together sometimes. His number’s still the same. So is mine. Give us a call. Okay, I’m going to clock in. Shelia here will get that order rung up for you.”

“Right.”

He’d order something for Hana online. The last thing he needed was for the whole town to think he was cheating on his wife.

Liam and Hana were in Cordonia while he and Riley were at the ranch so they wouldn’t be spending Valentine’s Day together.

He had no idea how to explain their relationship to others without making it sound like their marriage was open. When people thought that they often tried hitting on one of the four of them.

Their relationship was not open, it just had more than two people in it and that was hard for a lot of folks to understand. Especially hard core conservatives in the Bible Belt.

He quickly made and paid for his selection, waved goodbye to Shayla, and headed back to his truck.

He still needed to make reservations for dinner and a hotel room for Valentine’s Day. But the main surprise was lying on the back seat of his Quad Cab Ford F250.

He glanced in the rearview mirror at the drawing tube. He couldn’t wait to get home and show Riley the plans he’d had drawn up for their new home.

Splitting their time between Cordonia and America, they had been content to use his old room at the ranch, but with a baby on the way, he wanted their own space. In Cordonia they had Valtoria. Now they would have something of their own in Texas too.

He turned off the pavement onto a county two lane, turned the radio up, and started belting out lyrics as he accelerated toward home with sheer joy in his heart.

[inkyrainstorms]

Alright bestie, buckle the fuck in cause I got some Martian Stan AU stuff we need to figure out.

(Also your latest writing piece is just??? Impeccable. Imagine me gripping the sides of my screen like a crazed circus monkey, its so good)

Here's the problem with the Martian Stan Au.

How the hell is Stan supposed to survive on the other end of the portal,

WITHOUT. This Au being a reverse portal Au

We all know how those go, Stan starts dimension hopping and surviving that way, like a crazy space pirate.

But if this is to STAY a Martian Au, that means Stan needs to retain some Mark Watney type traits. Mainly, Staying in one space, making notes (or in this case, audio logs) about his experiences, and making the nightmare realm fear his botany powers.

Now why the hell would Stanley Pines, a grifter conman extraordinaire know anything about Botany, or growing anything?

This is where I need you to hear me out.

What was a popular, elicit and illegal crop, grown both in the United states and in South America in the 1970s? What could Stan have been growing that gave him experience with botany and crop growing in general?

I am suggesting the idea, that Stan grew weed, and THAT is why he can survive via botany powers in the nightmare realm.

I've been staring at my ceiling unblinking for an hour trying to figure out a different way Stan could have all of the knowledge necessary to create, harvast, and maintain a large scale crop production site for. However long until Ford can get the portal up and running

(In the book The Martian i think Watney was on Mars for like? A little over a year?)

PLEASE tell me if you have any other ideas other than Stan being a weed farmer as a part of his criminal past. I don't know how else to give him knowledge about growing things that fit in his character

Peace and love! <3

After thinking about it for a good couple minutes, honestly i think you’re right. Stan could definitely have been involved in something of that nature for a while. to be fair though, he also probably picked up a lot of random skills on the road (not enough to grow a whole farm with alien crops, but enough for a base, maybe) (between odd jobs, like weed farm and maybe even regular farm for a while, and the couple of Stansco products that were farm related (thinking about the pitchforks) he’d have a decent-ish base to start)

i’m ngl, i’d been thinking about it in a slightly different direction though! I love playing with the effects of the Nightmare Realm on human beings (I actually came up with a whole au where Ford was stuck in the Nightmare Realm for several years and developed static powers as a defense mechanism) (oh my gosh no i’m not gonna rant about that right now we’ll be here all day) (i should make a separate post at some point though, now that i think about it) (Nightmare!Ford from the Came Back Wrong au my beloved) (he’s got so many problems)

ahem. i got off topic. anyway! I kind of figured that, since time is probably incredibly odd in a realm that is literally falling apart at the seams, maybe Stan’s bodily systems also work differently, at a different pace or something along those lines.

(it’d also let there be a scene post-rescue where Ford is obsessively doing medics tests on Stan and finds out he’s like. months younger than he should be, even though it felt like time passed ‘the same’ for them) (like real life astronauts). So he wouldn’t have to eat that often! So then, he could stretch out the perishables he finds at the refugee camp for longer, and then he has more time to figure things out farming!

[serinxo]

she let out a low, amused chuckle, tilting her head as she watched him work himself up into a whole little monologue. it was cute, really — how hard he was trying to land a hit, throwing words like weak jabs, hoping something might actually stick. “wow,” she murmured, slow and deliberate, as if she were actually impressed. “so many words. so little impact.” she stepped even closer, invading his space just enough to test that patience he was clearly clinging to. “but sure, i’ll play along,” she continued, her smirk widening, all lazy confidence. “i mean, you clearly need this win more than i do, considering you’re over here acting like a philosophy major on a caffeine bender, giving me deep insights on my own personality.” she let out a small, faux-thoughtful hum. “so let me get this straight — you rolled your eyes, gave me an unsolicited speech about self-awareness, and then wrapped it all up with a dog shit metaphor? incredible. really. i can see why you’re such a hit at parties.” she shook her head, gaze sharp, unwavering. “but let’s get something clear,” she took a step back, just enough to make it clear this wasn’t even worth her full energy. “if you really didn’t want to spend any more time in my presence, you wouldn’t still be standing here, clinging to your last shreds of dignity, trying so damn hard to convince me — and yourself — that you don’t care.” she let the silence stretch for a beat, letting her words settle. then, with a slow, mocking tilt of her head, she delivered the final blow, voice smooth, effortless. “but hey, at least you finally admitted i won.”

    “   that's   a   foreign   concept   to   you,   huh.   so   unoriginal   you're   repeating   my   words   now.   ”   he   quipped,   cleaning   his   hands   from   the   remnants   of   powder   on   the   bar.   “   no,   you   might   be   right.   for   you   to   be   put   in   your   place,   first   you'd   need   to   know   it   and,   again,   you   don't   seem   like   the   type   of   person   with   enough   self-awareness   to   achieve   such   a   simple   thing.   if   you   did,   you'd   know   you're   nowhere   near   as   intimidating   as   you   consider   yourself   to   be   and   being   all   up   in   my   space   or   putting   some   bass   in   your   voice   won't   change   that.   ”   it   wasn't   something   he   did   often,   but   her   words   did   make   him   roll   his   eyes.   “   you   need   to   work   on   your   shit   talk,   you   know.   or   does   everything   that   comes   out   of   you   just   sound   like   it   was   generated   by   artificial   intelligence   ?   void   of   true   character   and   basic   human   decency.   ”   he   shook   his   head.   “   you   know   what,   consider   this   your   one   victory   of   the   day.   competition   would   be   fun   but   i   noticed   that,   probably   like   everyone   else   in   your   life,   i   don't   want   to   spend   any   more   time   than   necessary   in   your   presence.   ”   and   the   necessary   was   not   a   second.   “   and   here   i   thought   this   level   of   self-absorption   was   only   possible   amongst   teenagers.   don't   worry,   one   day   you'll   grow   to   realise   your   opinion   has   just   as   much   value   as   dog   shit   under   one's   shoe.   ”

[dreadfutures]

almost cried as my advisor introduced my talk and emphasized my dedication to science communication, community and coalition building, and broadening participation in stem alongside all my scientific achievements 😭 kept a brave face but I'm crying now tho

[artfulacrostic]

jean moreau, and faith and religion and the absence of it.

the sunshine court, nora sakavic // the unabridged journals of sylvia plath, sylvia plath // "stay down" by boygenius ft. julien baker, lucy dacus, and phoebe bridgers // the denial of st. peter, caravaggio // salome with the head of st. john the baptist, simon vouet // henry iv pt. ii, william shakespeare // the rebirth of the arts, charles haslewood shannon // daredevil: "born again" (1986) by frank miller et al. // "ash-wednesday", t.s. eliot // map of hell, botticelli

[kaidanalenkosprmanager]

Sophie Shepard & Kaidan Alenko (ME3) 1/?

MIRA'S MORE CANON ME3 "You're real enough for me." AKA: The tango. :) Mass Effect 3: Legendary Edition (2021)

[thevegetablewhichnoonedaresname]

I'm starting Mission to Zyxx Season 5 now, and I have feelings about that.

First, it generally scares me when people hype anything up at all because there is no guarantee that anyone values the exact same thing I do to the same degree. Even if I trust the creators of a thing to value something and try to do right by it, that doesn't always necessarily mean it will be successful, especially if that involves doing something wildly different than what made it good in the first place (I have been burned this way before). I guess I'm just hoping they continue the format of goofy improv shenanigans for the majority of it with something more planned and emotional in the finale if they want, like they've been doing all along. I'd think they would, and I've heard nothing bad about the ending, but I guess it still makes me nervous because I'm so close to the end and I want it so badly to stick the landing. I'm setting my expectations on the floor so I can be surprised instead of disappointed, but honestly, I don't need it to be better, I just need it to be on par with the rest.

Second, and more briefly, I'm happy it's (hopefully) ending before it has a chance to decline. I am so on board with that philosophy. But on the other hand, finishing a thing that I really, really like and knowing there's not another one out there gives me a special kind of heartache. Like, I know there will be other good media, and stuff that's good and unique in other ways, but I know for a fact that there are no other podcasts out there that have the same mix of a balance of off-the-wall improv and structured narrative, quality comedy, fantastical sci-fi setting and loveable characters, and high quality production. There are other things out there with many of those qualities, but nothing that checks every one of those boxes. It's a lightning-in-a-bottle thing that very much feels like the right people had to be in the right place at the right time to do it. Attempts to do it again would feel hollow because it had to be born out of necessity and passion and the talents of the people involved, so if you switch out the people it loses the reasons it's great, and if the same people tried to do it again it'd feel tired. That makes me so, so grateful it exists, but also so, so sad that it doesn't, and I'm 80% of the way done. When it's over, it's over.

Anyway. Now that that's all out there, I'm just gonna finish listening and have fun. Wish me luck.

[necrotic-nephilim]

What are your opinions on Casstim?

i LOVE CassTim. i've actually written a CassTim fic that's mostly just fluff and smut, but i have a lot of ideas/thoughts about them that play with the more complicated aspects of them.

i'm of the opinion that Tim and Cass were a potential romance that DC left the door open for before Tim got adopted by Bruce. (and tbh, even after he got adopted there were certain interactions in Red Robin (2009) that felt romantically implied) a lot of their interactions have implied feelings on both sides so of all Batcest ships, i think this one has a *lot* of genuine canon backing despite it being one of the most underrated ships of the fandom.

the dynamic between Cass and Tim is really interesting to me because Tim doesn't want to be Batman in any capacity and thinks that goal is actually incredibly unhealthy and unachievable, whereas to Cass it's the thing she strives for the most and if anything she wants to be even more than that. (Batgirl (2000) #59 actually has a really interesting discussion about that and that whole post-War Games arc is fun for understanding how Tim and Cass feel about each other) so a lot of their interactions clash because of that and they can't always see eye to eye on what vigilante justice and Batman's vision should look like. their relationship with each other is always going to be dependant on their relationship with Bruce first, as well as the Batman mantle as a whole. so for them to love each other (which, they do without a doubt, romantic or not) they have to accept where they don't agree with each other.

there's such a gentleness to CassTim, i think? not because i think Cass (or Tim tbh) is gentle, but i think for the exact opposite reason. there is this fullness and drivenness in the way she loves and her undying devotion to them. she would do anything to protect her loved ones. and when you combine that with Tim, who's pretty self-sacrificial at his worst, you have some interesting conflict because they're both too-willing to die for the other. their lives are defined by violence, *especially* Cass', so for her to finally let herself be loved and protected by someone else as much as she loves others is something that simply makes me feral.

they've both been trained by Shiva, which i don't think gets explored enough because it's fun for exploring the way they fight and think in a fight being potentially similar. Cass is *far* smarter than anyone gives her credit for being, and has detective skills on par with Tim, in my opinion. they balance each other out in a lot of ways. they're two people who have *chosen* this fight more than a lot of the rest of the Batfamily. being Batgirl is so important to Cass and it's something she chose because of her desperate want to be good. and Tim chose to be Robin because he knew Gotham and Bruce needed that. while they don't always agree on it, i would argue Cass and Tim understand the nuances of the Batman mantle and what it represents deeper than almost anyone else. because of that i'm particularly interested in a future CassTim, where Cass becomes Batman and Tim is in a weird limbo where he wants to stop being a vigilante but can't seem to quite let go of the life and how they end up meeting in the middle of that. i think it could be really fun with a lot of complicated arguments between them that end in a slow burn romance.

idk man this is baseless rambling, but tldr i love them so dearly and there's so much that can be explored between them. also, i think TimKonCass should be a thing. i like KonCass more than most people do (why do y'all hate this ship it's so good pls hear me out-) and i think as a complicated weird throuple they'd be fun.